StarGate Atlantis Aberrant: StarGate Atlantis - S1: E3: Net Worth

[Goro Kondo]

Goro nodded to Mirelle, "Thank you, I would appreciate that." Nodding to Bates and Dylan Goro prepared to go. He quickly stuffed everything back into his bag and rose to follow Mirelle. He stopped, "My Lantean isn't very good, perhaps we should stay in a group so that Inoue can continue to translate for us?"

[Dawn OOC]

Mirelle inclined her head, her smile placid. "I doubt Tycom will mind, other than his house is not big enough for us all," she said though Inoae. "However, he loves company so I imagine he'll accomidate you all."

"Sounds good," Bates replied, rising from his cushion. Only Goro noticed the slight hesitation as their leader stood up straight, as if he'd had to catch himself. "Let's go see what the local witchdoctor has on his shelves."

As a group, they followed Mirelle out of the building and over to another. The man who answered the door was portly and had crooked teeth, but his smile was welcome. "Please, come in!" he cried, grinning broadly.

Bates had been joking, but the man's place resembled exactly that: shelves were stuffed with wooden boxes of stuff while dried herbs hung from the ceiling. Mirelle was right; there wasn't quite enough room for all of them, but Tycom invited them all in anyway and offered them food and drink. And he looked to be a man who knew his food and drink.

[Dylan Harvey]

Dylan graciously accepted the refreshments and looked around the room as he carefully nibbled and sipped on what he was offered. Most of the food they had encountered so far in the Pegasus galaxy wasn't half bad, but he had discovered a few things that tasted absolutely disgusting. Looking around the room he asked questions about the purposes of some of the herbs that were there and asked about storage and how long they stayed fresh.

[Dawn OOC]

The juice was sweet with a hint of tart; the breads were soft and had a vaguely grape flavor to them. “Oh, that? That is good for sore muscles,” Tycom said, his expression jolly. “You mix the powder with something to make it into a paste and apply it to the inflamed area.”

“Do it absorb into the skin?” Goro asked, taking a closer look. “And what is it made from?”

“Ground choboro root. Once it’s dried, it can easily be crushed in the mortar and pestle.” He smiled broadly as he added, “It doesn’t absorb easily, so it has to be covered with a bandage.”

The conversation drifted around the room, each root, seed, powder or dried leaf revealing something new. Before long, everyone but Goro and Dylan were listening with glazed eyes. It was a relief when another man entered the room. He was dressed in gray robes with a green sash running across his chest. “The Vican wishes to greet you and offer hospitality,” he said, bowing.

“Let’s go,” Bates said after Inoae had translated. The group trooped out into the open air and followed their guide to the massive tree. The massive doors were opened to a hall. The room was lit by glowing panels of cloth. The lights shifted and rippled as wind currents shifted the narrow tapestries.

A man sat in a chair on a raised platform at the end of the room. It felt like he was the sovereign ruler of this place. The Atlanteans waited as Inoae and their guide went through the introductions, which were done with little pretense or any bowing. Finally, the Vican spoke directly. “Welcome and know us as friends. You say you come to trade, please speak to me of what you offer.”

[Sgt. Yseult Moreau]

The juice was juice, the bread a little weird and grapey, but rather good Moreau admitted to herself, and at least it wasn't purple. Her eyes glazed over as the botanist-healist - who appeared to be very well acquainted with the Pillsbury Dough Boy, even from a galaxy away - rambled on... and on, grunting a sigh of relief when the guy with 'official' stamped all over his grey robes and green sash interrupted him.

Then they were off to see the Man on Top, the Vican, if she had caught that right. The luminescent cloth caught her eye - if it could be turned off or hidden in an opaque sack, she could see some definite uses for it.

All in all, the expedition was going pretty well. Lounging to the side as she waited for Bates, the Lawyer, or the Doctor, to reveal their offer and needs, the brawny, soldier woman kept a wary eye on their hosts and the surroundings, her muscular back rippling as she tensed.

Things were going too well in her opinion. There was bound to be some shit they were about to step in, somewhere.

[Dawn OOC]

"We have technology which is different from yours," Tara said simply, "and we believe it could be compatible. We'd like to offer you some things that you don't have, which our engineer would detail. This is what we offer in exchange for food, medicine and of course, your friendship."

"All of which we have in abundance," the Vican stated. "All of these will be addressed formally, of course, if you will stay to eat with us."

"When is... dinner?" Bates asked quickly when Inoae translated.

"We will break the afternoon fast in one cycle." After some back and forth, it was learned that it would be in thirty minutes. The group was shown to a room where they could rest and clean their hands, which seemed to be important to the culture; cleaning them was emphasized several times.

Dinner was served at a table with long benches for seating. The men and women ate together; anyone wearing robes sat at another table. That was mostly children, but a few young adults were there, too.

The first course of food was cold food, such as fruits and vegetables. The tea being served was bitter but there was honey available.

[Teagan Shae Ammer]

The Lantean, grateful for instruction, washed her hands repeatedly until they shined red from the soap and the scrubbing. She was used to disinfecting herself when she worked with Darkness, so Yseult had to stop from continuing her scrubbing up her arms and past her clothing.

Once led to the dining area Inoue sat next to and as much as she could behind Yseult, which mostly ended up with her awkwardly away from the table until the robust Special Forces woman pulled the Lantean up equal with everyone else. She eyed the food with a cool disdain, though the quiet rumble from her stomach belied her supposed disinterest. Before Yseult could grab the kettle for herself, Inoue deftly picked up the glazed and decorated pottery and poured her Yseult, then surprisingly herself, a cup of hot tea. She set the kettle back and settled back onto the bench.

Each food was passed around and Inoue played the translator game, though without a perfect reference to Earth's own vegetation the team mostly got what the Lantean version of the fruit or vegetable was. Helpful, really.

[Sgt. Yseult Moreau]

Shitfuck! A state dinner or some shit? Merde et double-merde! Yseult cursed in her head. When waiting for a target from a sniper-nest or stalking through the brush, she had all the patience in the world. But yammering diplomacy and trade agreements with the pretentious adherence to politeness and ritual was a trial. We have something you want, you have something we want, just make the damn trade and be done with it.

Yseult washed her hands, then angrily washed them again when one of their guides looked a her aghast, as if once wasn't enough. Personally, she thought it was the height of diplomacy that she didn't drown the bitch in the basin of water.

The meal was doubly trying, having to deal with the formal dinner and Inoae's idiosyncrasies. At least she poured herself a cup of tea without being told to. She did have to be told to set herself a plate of food, despite her obvious reluctance. There was a brief break in the meal as people looked at Yseult and Inoae almost tussling when Yseult tried to make a plate for Inoae and herself, with Inoae moving everything from her plate to Yseult's so she would be served first. When both of them started to eat, neither looked satisfied.

Since eating with a firearm slung over your shoulder was frowned upon, they had set their packs and armaments along the wall behind them. Still waiting for the shit to hit the fan, Yseult stayed acutely aware of the distance between her and her P90 and was glad for the knives sheathed at hip and boot.

[Dawn OOC]

While Yseult was having trouble with dinner, the others were quite enjoying themselves. Goro found himself enjoying the cultural delicacies. Tara was having fun with the give and take of diplomacy; the intergalactic twist to it was just spice. Olivia quietly watched the social interactions, picking up on cultural norms easily. Bates watched for danger, letting Tara do the speaking. The Vican was a gracious host, speaking to everyone in turn.

After the ‘state’ dinner was done, they moved into a sitting lounge. More cushions were placed on the floor to seat everyone. There had been a discussion of items for trade during the dinner, but everyone sensed that it was getting serious now. Speaking mostly to Tara and Dylan, who had offered most of the talk regarding trade to this point. “So outline what you’ll be offering to us, very clearly. Now is when we talk hard numbers and reality, yes?”