The Market

[travelagency]

Who: Merchants, Reporters, and You
What: Open Market
When: M9 D13
Where: The center of town, near the resort
Notes & Warnings: Here is how the market works...

The marketplace is a large open air affair in the middle of town, with a couple of dozen vendors out supplying wares. For the most part they're local crafstmen and farmers; it is post harvest time now, and the last of the fresh vegetables are being sold off before it gets really cold (various tubers, fruits, roots, wheat, etc). There are also cooks with a variety of foods, so everything smells pretty good. There are even pierogi and sausages along side more unusual fusion foods like deep fried gagh on a stick.

Unfortunately, it's raining and while it's not a drenching rain, if you're not used to the rain an umbrella probably wouldn't go amiss.

There are a few odd stands, though. External stands, brought in by merchants that don't want to permanently reside here but are happy to do some sales for the resort. Sure they have to earn in the planetary currency, but they can buy a few unique items from here to take back with them before they go. That makes the trade worth it for them, and Blackstaff needs all the external trade it can get (even if the outside vendors doing the trading are a little dubious and are probably breaking the law just by being here during the quarantine).

In the meantime, with Blackstaff's cooperation Upsher and Doff have set up a booth in the middle of the market. Imports receive additional pay for going inside and answering their questions, and Jeffers is very adamant that imports should participate. It may help out their current situation by showing the universe what widely varying worlds are represented by the resort and attaching real faces and voices to the people of Quadratus.

Comments

[vengeance_driven]

I don't know, what kind of luck you got? [He sounds genuinely interested, and hot or not it seems like Niko is hungry enough that he doesn't care and is just downing this stuff in a few bites.]

[When he realizes he's being evaluated, he stops chewing. And sits. Like a cow with its cud. Then he swallows it.]

[Great impression he's making.]

[Even years down the line, it's easy to see a rough life. Scars from fights, explosions. In some ways, even if he's cleaned, it looks as though the dirt ground into his skin. His fingers poking out from his gloves are calloused, and no horrible life circumstance but plain good old misfortune gave him ears that stick out like that. Despite looking ridiculous at that moment, he's not had it easy.]

[theugly]

The not so good kind, [he says simply, letting his gaze drop again. Whatever information all that staring got him, it's not noteworthy enough to stop him from eating. It takes him another few seconds of chewing and the beat of a fist against his chest (accompanied by a noisy throat clearing) for him to continue.] Let's just say I learned a few lessons the hard way, okay?

[Maybe he'd have said more were it not for one ugly fact: he doesn't trust Niko. Not remotely. Bounty hunters can come just as scarred as bandits, after all.]

Who knows, [he adds, shrugging,] maybe I spoke too soon.

[vengeance_driven]

I think we all have there, man. [He finally washes down that finished slice with a large drink of soda and an impressive burp. He's not particularly suspicious by nature- it's almost funny. The degree to which he's been dicked over, you think they would be. But he doesn't have anything particular against Tuco and as far as he's concerned, is probably just another guy that was forced into the way of life he was.]

I got fucked over by one of my good friends. One I grew up with. He dicked over a lot of us, actually, but I am the one who survived it. The others did not. [Well, technically Bernie/Florian did, but he came out of it an entirely different man.] And this other guy I used to work for. But I got him back for it.

[theugly]

[And with that little confession, he's left smiling again—and against his better judgement, too. After spending months around Blondie, having a guy confide in you like that feels... almost flattering, really.]

No hay que echarse alacranes al seno, [he says, waggling a finger and raising the pitch of his voice like he's doing an impression of someone.] Or do, as long as you able to sting them harder, huh? [He shakes his head and reaches for his glass. Then, raising it:] To better luck, and fewer bastards!

[vengeance_driven]

[Except Niko is almost dismissive of the story at this point. It's an open secret- he only guards his conversation around employers.]

To better luck and fewer bastards, my friend. [He raises his soda with a weird smile.]