Teyla wandered the marketplace, a wistful smile on her face as she stopped by various booths and stalls to look at the wares on display. There was jewelry, fabrics, clothes, and pottery. There were soaps and perfumes, toys, and a few booths staffed by "geeks" and "techies" who put their knowledge to use off-world by building and assembling things that colonists would need, though Teyla did use the word "need" loosely. Watches, redesigned with larger watch faces for the extended hours of Gamma, clocks of the same, two way radios, some solar powered, meant to take the place telephones. Even remote control vehicles that brought a fond smile of memory to her place. She missed Atlantis and her team. She hoped, desperately hoped, that they would be reunited someday, but knew the reality of loss.
She might never see John, Rodney, Ronon, Atlantis or New Athos again.
Teyla was a modest shopper and not the least bit materialistic. She didn't need much: a few days worth of clothing, some decorative pieces for her tent. However, she still hovered at the stall with the remote control vehicles and in the end, used a few of her credits to purchase two of the "toys."
After the toy purchase, Teyla wandered more, purchasing a small bag of fruit from yet another vendor. She was a sucker for the small round fruit that looked like an earth apple but tasted like one of the hoznuat fruits from the Danube world in Pegasus.
Her wanderings took her to the growing crowd around the glass blowing, and there she stopped to observe and admire the technique, while enjoying her "lunch."
Donna loved the market. She'd never enjoyed being dropped at Acton Market to "help" her Gramps during school holidays - he had a stall there, in those days - but now it was an exercise in nostalgia.. the sights, the sounds, the smells. Well it was when she wasn't trying to make her way through hordes of people anyway. Why did everyone always shop at the same time as her?
"A bag of those potatoes, 1lb of carrots, half a dozen onions, uh, half a dozen of those appley things and-" she squinted, then nodded at the purple vegetable she'd originally thought was broccoli. "What's that?"
"Local herb. It makes good tea, or so my wife tells me," the vendor made his pitch.
Donna raised an eyebrow. "Tea? All right, I'll give that a shot too. How much?"
When he told her, Donna immediately went into outraged customer mode, with added redhead temper.
"What do you take me for, an idiot? Or a frigging goldmine?"
"Uh, someone who can't add?"
"Or a frigging goldmi-"
She clamped her mouth shut mid-rant, bit her lip, glanced at the prices by each variety of food, and realised he was right. How long would it be before she got her head round the currency here, eh? At least the weights were imperial.. she never had understood that metric rubbish.
"Right. Uh, how's about half price for the tea then." Gramps would never forgive her if she didn't at least try to haggle. "If it's any good, I'll spread the word to all the admin staff. Coffee'd be better, but it's us what orders in the refreshments."
It was the stall keeper's turn to squint. Donna squinted back, waving a couple of notes that amounted to roughly what she was offering.
"Ok, lady. Just this once."
"You STAR!" she cheered, gathering her goodies. "I'll be back, you watch."
Donna slung the bag over her shoulder and began to wonder why she hadn't chosen to grow potatoes instead of peas, tomatoes and the like. Too bloody heavy.. Oh no!
Two onions worked their way out of her bag - had it split? - and rolled into the fray surrounding one stall in particular. Donna dived after them, hoping that no-one would trip over them or her, or anything else that was bound to fall out of her bag any second.. -
Nick nodded to Teyla as she moved up, unconsciously moving aside so she could get a better view, "Ma'am." Well he may have spent a few years in Vegas, but you just can't take the Southern gentleman out of a man once it is ingrained in.
Nick might have said more but he happened to notice Donna and her trouble. He never could pass up a damsel in distress and she seemed to be in a bit of distress. Of course he couldn't just move past Teyla without saying anything as that would be rude, "Pardon me ma'am."
That said Nick moved to try and catch the errant onions, while also trying to keep Donna from injuring herself, though keeping Donna from injury definitely held more importance. At times like these a heavy background in sports, and time as a beat cop came in handy.
Teyla turned at the sound of the commotion. Her eyes took a different path than that of the man beside her, following the roll of the errant white food stuffs that were particularly potent and tended to leave the breath malodorous and made the eyes sting and water.
(Onions, oh yes, that is what they are called,) Teyla remembered. (And the members of the Atlantis expedition complained about tuttleroot.)
She brought out her foot, placing it in the path of an errant onion, while turning her body just enough to prevent the two women closest to her from stepping into the fray by accident. The onion bumped softly into Teyla's soft leather booted foot and she bent at the knees to pick it up.
The other onion was out of her reach, and as Teyla watched, it rolled further into the gathered crowd, where it would likely reach its demise if she did not act quickly.
"Excuse me, pardon me, please step to your left, to your left, forward," Teyla moved through the crowd with confident ease, gently nudging people in the direction she wished them to go even as she said the word. Her voice was calm, her manner commanding and people obeyed without thought, blinking at her in mixed confusion and curiosity after the fact.
Moments away from the impending rescue of the second onion, a very large man took a step to the left and crushed it beneath his very large foot.
Teyla winced.
The man looked down, around and then back at Teyla. "That yours?"
"No longer," Teyla replied with a faint smile. She backed carefully out of the throng, gracious and polite the entire time, and presented the onion to the woman. As the woman looked up, Teyla recognized her and put a name to the face*, offering her a sympathetic smile along with said onion. "I am sorry, Donna, but I could only capture the one rebel. The other met an untimely demise, but I do not think it suffered."
(*OOC: Seeing how Donna's bio said that she knows everyone and everyone knows her, I thought the familiarity would be there on Teyla's part.)
[Darien, Bobby]starborn_scribeFebruary 20 2009, 13:26:34 UTC
"Very nice," Bobby crooned. Darien felt his friend's elbow nudge his side. "Innit, Fawkes?"
Darien blinked behind his sunglasses, forcing his eyes to focus on the glass blowing demonstration. "Uh, yeah. Nice." He guessed the bulbous glass thing was nice. Mostly he wasn't awake enough yet to really care. Why he'd let Bobby drag him to the market first thing in the morning once again again was beyond him.
Bobby loosed a semi-serious sigh. "You need to appreciate the arts, my friend. This--"
"You STAR!" The shrill voice startled Darien a little closer to wakefulness.
"Hey, Donna's here! C'mon, Fawkesie." Bobby plunged into the crowd toward what looked like some sort of commotion. Darien wasn't surprised to see the Brit's red hair in the middle of it. He liked Donna well enough... but preferably in small doses. Especially before noon.
Then Darien spotted Teyla in the group. That was more than enough motivation to follow Bobby, who was halfway there. "Mr. Stokes," Bobby shouted, "is this lovely woman stirring up trouble again?"
"Here mate, you might want to take some lessons from Mr Stokes here -" who was very welcome to the cheeky little wink/grin she directed that way (she loved being called ma'am). "- who is a proper gentleman. Teyla's got her heart right in the right place too, while you've just got a nasty suspicious mind. Or are my runaway onions double agents in disguise?"
She stuck her tongue out at Bobby, then grinned.. over his shoulder, at Darien. Tall and cute. Nick, too. "I don't suppose either of you strapping lads fancy carrying m'spuds till I find new bag?"
Teyla thought that Donna Noble was "a breath of fresh air." The woman spoke her mind, loudly and bluntly. There was no trying to puzzle out the motives and actions of Donna, which was a welcome relief from so many of the earthers. Many found Donna overbearing, but after years of working with Rodney McKay, Donna was easy enough.
Teyla smiled mischievously at Donna, "You do not think that it would overtax them?" She directed the teasing commentary primarily at Darien and Bobby; Mr. Stokes she did not know particularly well.
"I heard that Mr. Fawkes was injured on his last mission. I am not certain he is fully recovered yet." She lowered her voice to a stage whisper, "The splinter was not nearly as big as he claims."
[Bobby, Darien]starborn_scribeFebruary 21 2009, 21:16:14 UTC
Bobby, unsurprisingly, retaliated Donna's ribbing by sticking his tongue out at her. "Smooth, Bobby," Darien teased as they approached the group.
"Gotta give as good as you get, Fawkes," Bobby shot back.
Darien chuckled. "I bet you'd like to give her--"
Bobby cut Darien off with a fake cough. With a flourish he told the redhead, "It would be my pleasure to assist you with your produce, madam, despite your unwarranted accusations." Then he mock scowled at Teyla. "Overtaxing? Fawkes, maybe, what with the splinter an' all." Donna handed Bobby one of her baskets, which he accepted.
Darien played along with a dramatic sigh. To Stokes and Donna he asked, "Remember those plants that made prickly burrs in the fall? 'Bout yea big?" With one hand he indicated a circle about a half inch in diameter. His audience nodded. "Scale that up to a soccer ball. Now imagine a primitive trap that hurls them as projectiles. *That's* the 'splinter.'" Darien grabbed the bottom hem on the right side of his shirt. "I think it's stopped weeping--"
Bobby put his hand over Darien's. "All right, all right. We get it, Your Woundedness."
OOC: Sorry to end this abruptly, but I'm going AFK for a while. Feel free to NPC the boys if you're so inspired.
Nick grinned and tipped his ever present baseball cap at Donna, "It was my pleasure ma'am." He was amused at the way the two women ribbed the two men and just glad that neither of them had really turned on him. He was pretty sure that Teyla could kick his ass and Donna could probably tie his head in circles, at least from everything he had heard.
"As for helping, how could I possibly refuse. My momma raised me right and she'd tan my hide if I didn't help. I'd rather face an armed man in a dark alley then have her mad at me." It's that good ole boy thing... you can't upset Mom or there would be hell to pay.
Nick paused a moment, "I don't suppose that either of you two ladies would mind giving me a little assistance. I need to find a birthday gift for my Mom and I'm not having a lot of luck. Back home I would have sent her flowers if I couldn't visit, or visited with flowers but here she sees me all the time so I'm not sure I can get away with flowers."
"Well would you look at that?" Donna nudged Teyla gleefully, then nodded in the direction of the helpful men. "Hands-free kit!"
Her sympathetic glance towards Darien was.. well.. not as sympathetic as it might have been. "Are you sure you should be out here mate? Lots of bumps in a crowd, y'know. And if it's weeping.."
"Enough!" the poor bloke shouted. "I'm FINE. Just a little damaged. Forget Teyla said anything."
Donna sniggered as quietly as she could, sure she wasn't the only one, then reached UP UP UP to ruffle his hair. "Sorry mate, I'm sure you'll get your own back soon enough.
"As for you and your Mum, Nick, it's staring you in the face isn't it? Those glass blowers - gorgeous work. Or even one of the potters could make something." Donna's eyes lit up. "Hey, maybe she'd like it if you took her to the workshop and she could pick something out, or watch it being made? Or.."
OOC: just imagine Donna blathering on for as long as it takes for someone to shut her up :)
Knowing that Donna could very easily talk until someone interjected, and seeing the slow panic building on the faces of the men, Teyla cut in smoothly with a polite inclination of her head toward the other woman. "That's quite lovely, Donna and you're absolutely right." She turned her attention to Mr. Stokes, Teyla did not know him well enough to address him on a first name basis only and was very careful to avoid doing anything that might offend the sensibilities of the Earthers. Until someone insisted she forego titles, she would continue to use them. "Mr. Stokes, do you think that your mother would appreciate a lovely, hand crafted piece of glass work? A vase or perhaps drinking glasses? Glasses are something of a luxury now that we lack the mass production from earth."
Teyla swept her arm in a gentle arc to the stand before them, and then to the left of it where glass bead work formed necklaces, bracelets, earrings and other jewelry. "Or perhaps a new piece of jewelry?
"There are some beautiful embroidered scarves and shawls as well a few booths that way. A shawl would provide warmth when the change of seasons is upon us and a scarf would be a decorative accessory."
Teyla had looked at the scarves for herself, but had been able to justify such a luxury. As the earthers said, "Old habits died hard," and Teyla still clung the ways of her people. Keeping only what they could afford to move with them when next they must avoid the Wraith.
(Except for remote controlled racing vehicles,) Teyla amended thinking of the small toys in her sack.
Darien could have kissed Teyla for interrupting Donna's screech-- er, rambling. Hell, he could have kissed her on general principle. They really needed to see each other outside of Gamma Team-related duties.
He didn't miss how Teyla's eyes drifted back to the booth with the embroidered fabrics. Darien shrugged. "Yeah, Stokes, one of those might work." He glanced at Teyla. "Is there anything not, you know, girly?"
Bobby snorted. "With your affinity for, what'd ya call it, paisely? You can do girly."
Darien half-jokingly sighed, shaking his head. "Bobby does not appreciate vintage clothing." He gestured at his short-statured friend. "See what I mean?"
Bobby glanced down at his decidedly average, practical clothes. "Hey!"
She might never see John, Rodney, Ronon, Atlantis or New Athos again.
Teyla was a modest shopper and not the least bit materialistic. She didn't need much: a few days worth of clothing, some decorative pieces for her tent. However, she still hovered at the stall with the remote control vehicles and in the end, used a few of her credits to purchase two of the "toys."
After the toy purchase, Teyla wandered more, purchasing a small bag of fruit from yet another vendor. She was a sucker for the small round fruit that looked like an earth apple but tasted like one of the hoznuat fruits from the Danube world in Pegasus.
Her wanderings took her to the growing crowd around the glass blowing, and there she stopped to observe and admire the technique, while enjoying her "lunch."
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"A bag of those potatoes, 1lb of carrots, half a dozen onions, uh, half a dozen of those appley things and-" she squinted, then nodded at the purple vegetable she'd originally thought was broccoli. "What's that?"
"Local herb. It makes good tea, or so my wife tells me," the vendor made his pitch.
Donna raised an eyebrow. "Tea? All right, I'll give that a shot too. How much?"
When he told her, Donna immediately went into outraged customer mode, with added redhead temper.
"What do you take me for, an idiot? Or a frigging goldmine?"
"Uh, someone who can't add?"
"Or a frigging goldmi-"
She clamped her mouth shut mid-rant, bit her lip, glanced at the prices by each variety of food, and realised he was right. How long would it be before she got her head round the currency here, eh? At least the weights were imperial.. she never had understood that metric rubbish.
"Right. Uh, how's about half price for the tea then." Gramps would never forgive her if she didn't at least try to haggle. "If it's any good, I'll spread the word to all the admin staff. Coffee'd be better, but it's us what orders in the refreshments."
It was the stall keeper's turn to squint. Donna squinted back, waving a couple of notes that amounted to roughly what she was offering.
"Ok, lady. Just this once."
"You STAR!" she cheered, gathering her goodies. "I'll be back, you watch."
Donna slung the bag over her shoulder and began to wonder why she hadn't chosen to grow potatoes instead of peas, tomatoes and the like. Too bloody heavy.. Oh no!
Two onions worked their way out of her bag - had it split? - and rolled into the fray surrounding one stall in particular. Donna dived after them, hoping that no-one would trip over them or her, or anything else that was bound to fall out of her bag any second.. -
"AAARGH!"
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Nick might have said more but he happened to notice Donna and her trouble. He never could pass up a damsel in distress and she seemed to be in a bit of distress. Of course he couldn't just move past Teyla without saying anything as that would be rude, "Pardon me ma'am."
That said Nick moved to try and catch the errant onions, while also trying to keep Donna from injuring herself, though keeping Donna from injury definitely held more importance. At times like these a heavy background in sports, and time as a beat cop came in handy.
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(Onions, oh yes, that is what they are called,) Teyla remembered. (And the members of the Atlantis expedition complained about tuttleroot.)
She brought out her foot, placing it in the path of an errant onion, while turning her body just enough to prevent the two women closest to her from stepping into the fray by accident. The onion bumped softly into Teyla's soft leather booted foot and she bent at the knees to pick it up.
The other onion was out of her reach, and as Teyla watched, it rolled further into the gathered crowd, where it would likely reach its demise if she did not act quickly.
"Excuse me, pardon me, please step to your left, to your left, forward," Teyla moved through the crowd with confident ease, gently nudging people in the direction she wished them to go even as she said the word. Her voice was calm, her manner commanding and people obeyed without thought, blinking at her in mixed confusion and curiosity after the fact.
Moments away from the impending rescue of the second onion, a very large man took a step to the left and crushed it beneath his very large foot.
Teyla winced.
The man looked down, around and then back at Teyla. "That yours?"
"No longer," Teyla replied with a faint smile. She backed carefully out of the throng, gracious and polite the entire time, and presented the onion to the woman. As the woman looked up, Teyla recognized her and put a name to the face*, offering her a sympathetic smile along with said onion. "I am sorry, Donna, but I could only capture the one rebel. The other met an untimely demise, but I do not think it suffered."
(*OOC: Seeing how Donna's bio said that she knows everyone and everyone knows her, I thought the familiarity would be there on Teyla's part.)
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Darien blinked behind his sunglasses, forcing his eyes to focus on the glass blowing demonstration. "Uh, yeah. Nice." He guessed the bulbous glass thing was nice. Mostly he wasn't awake enough yet to really care. Why he'd let Bobby drag him to the market first thing in the morning once again again was beyond him.
Bobby loosed a semi-serious sigh. "You need to appreciate the arts, my friend. This--"
"You STAR!" The shrill voice startled Darien a little closer to wakefulness.
"Hey, Donna's here! C'mon, Fawkesie." Bobby plunged into the crowd toward what looked like some sort of commotion. Darien wasn't surprised to see the Brit's red hair in the middle of it. He liked Donna well enough... but preferably in small doses. Especially before noon.
Then Darien spotted Teyla in the group. That was more than enough motivation to follow Bobby, who was halfway there. "Mr. Stokes," Bobby shouted, "is this lovely woman stirring up trouble again?"
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"Here mate, you might want to take some lessons from Mr Stokes here -" who was very welcome to the cheeky little wink/grin she directed that way (she loved being called ma'am). "- who is a proper gentleman. Teyla's got her heart right in the right place too, while you've just got a nasty suspicious mind. Or are my runaway onions double agents in disguise?"
She stuck her tongue out at Bobby, then grinned.. over his shoulder, at Darien. Tall and cute. Nick, too. "I don't suppose either of you strapping lads fancy carrying m'spuds till I find new bag?"
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Teyla smiled mischievously at Donna, "You do not think that it would overtax them?" She directed the teasing commentary primarily at Darien and Bobby; Mr. Stokes she did not know particularly well.
"I heard that Mr. Fawkes was injured on his last mission. I am not certain he is fully recovered yet." She lowered her voice to a stage whisper, "The splinter was not nearly as big as he claims."
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"Gotta give as good as you get, Fawkes," Bobby shot back.
Darien chuckled. "I bet you'd like to give her--"
Bobby cut Darien off with a fake cough. With a flourish he told the redhead, "It would be my pleasure to assist you with your produce, madam, despite your unwarranted accusations." Then he mock scowled at Teyla. "Overtaxing? Fawkes, maybe, what with the splinter an' all." Donna handed Bobby one of her baskets, which he accepted.
Darien played along with a dramatic sigh. To Stokes and Donna he asked, "Remember those plants that made prickly burrs in the fall? 'Bout yea big?" With one hand he indicated a circle about a half inch in diameter. His audience nodded. "Scale that up to a soccer ball. Now imagine a primitive trap that hurls them as projectiles. *That's* the 'splinter.'" Darien grabbed the bottom hem on the right side of his shirt. "I think it's stopped weeping--"
Bobby put his hand over Darien's. "All right, all right. We get it, Your Woundedness."
OOC: Sorry to end this abruptly, but I'm going AFK for a while. Feel free to NPC the boys if you're so inspired.
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"As for helping, how could I possibly refuse. My momma raised me right and she'd tan my hide if I didn't help. I'd rather face an armed man in a dark alley then have her mad at me." It's that good ole boy thing... you can't upset Mom or there would be hell to pay.
Nick paused a moment, "I don't suppose that either of you two ladies would mind giving me a little assistance. I need to find a birthday gift for my Mom and I'm not having a lot of luck. Back home I would have sent her flowers if I couldn't visit, or visited with flowers but here she sees me all the time so I'm not sure I can get away with flowers."
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Her sympathetic glance towards Darien was.. well.. not as sympathetic as it might have been. "Are you sure you should be out here mate? Lots of bumps in a crowd, y'know. And if it's weeping.."
"Enough!" the poor bloke shouted. "I'm FINE. Just a little damaged. Forget Teyla said anything."
Donna sniggered as quietly as she could, sure she wasn't the only one, then reached UP UP UP to ruffle his hair. "Sorry mate, I'm sure you'll get your own back soon enough.
"As for you and your Mum, Nick, it's staring you in the face isn't it? Those glass blowers - gorgeous work. Or even one of the potters could make something." Donna's eyes lit up. "Hey, maybe she'd like it if you took her to the workshop and she could pick something out, or watch it being made? Or.."
OOC: just imagine Donna blathering on for as long as it takes for someone to shut her up :)
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Teyla swept her arm in a gentle arc to the stand before them, and then to the left of it where glass bead work formed necklaces, bracelets, earrings and other jewelry. "Or perhaps a new piece of jewelry?
"There are some beautiful embroidered scarves and shawls as well a few booths that way. A shawl would provide warmth when the change of seasons is upon us and a scarf would be a decorative accessory."
Teyla had looked at the scarves for herself, but had been able to justify such a luxury. As the earthers said, "Old habits died hard," and Teyla still clung the ways of her people. Keeping only what they could afford to move with them when next they must avoid the Wraith.
(Except for remote controlled racing vehicles,) Teyla amended thinking of the small toys in her sack.
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He didn't miss how Teyla's eyes drifted back to the booth with the embroidered fabrics. Darien shrugged. "Yeah, Stokes, one of those might work." He glanced at Teyla. "Is there anything not, you know, girly?"
Bobby snorted. "With your affinity for, what'd ya call it, paisely? You can do girly."
Darien half-jokingly sighed, shaking his head. "Bobby does not appreciate vintage clothing." He gestured at his short-statured friend. "See what I mean?"
Bobby glanced down at his decidedly average, practical clothes. "Hey!"
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Yes, this is a short shift to the left. . .
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