Barter Bazaar!

[prorenataa]

Who: The entire CREW! [ Open ]
When: A day sometime after the holiday bash thrown by the captains
Where: The Medical Tent
What: An opportunity for swapping resources
Warnings: N/A But if a thread takes a turn, let me know and I'll edit



As described in this OOC post, one morning the captains will send out handwaved messages to the crew, old and new alike. New crew members will be offered a pacdisc of their own with some starter goodies that they can choose to keep or work on trading with their fellow crew.

Established crew members will be encouraged (but this is not an order) to arrive at the Medical Tent at a handwaved time with any extra items they have which they might be willing to trade out.

Also as mentioned on Discord, players/characters can have scavenged some items from the settlements and caves.

Come and trade! Or just come and watch/take the opportunity to meet some new faces. There will be a table set up with freshly prepared purple deer meat and clean (aka not-purple) water available. Sorry, alcohol is BYOB, but certainly welcome!

If you have any questions, please direct them to the OOC post. Otherwise, enjoy!

Also, just for some IC setting flavor:

[ As it had been for a couple of days now, the medical tent stood set up and ready to receive anyone who decided to take the captains up on their offer. Some of the pacdiscs were inside, ready to hand out to the new arrivals or those individuals could have picked them up directly from the captains themselves.

Either way, the cots of the med tent had been pushed back to the edges, gotten out of the way but also providing places to sit. There were also some crates and other sturdy looking cabinets for sitting on as well, why the hell not. Maybe be a little careful as some of those cabinets might be on casters. Please no rolling around the medical tent! But if you do sit on one of those cabinets and end up 'bucked off' people are probably going to point and snicker.

On one side of the tent a table had been set up with freshly bbqed purple deer meat and some sides. The sides were obviously canned goods but they were there for a change of pace. Fresh water, untainted by purple-ness, was also set up in large containers at the end of the table. There was plenty to have and also plenty to be bottled up in individual containers and packed away.

There were also glasses and cups sitting ready for water ... or you know ... if anyone had brought the hard stuff! ]

Comments

[hellsbel]

It's been almost a year since Bel landed on the Moira -- not counting that one planet where time hadn't seemed to pass till it was over -- and there's been a lot of water under the bridge since then. And a lot of people, come and gone.

Offering a starter kit to the new arrivals seems like common sense, and Bel turns up at the tent with some items acquired on planets they've passed: a warm sleeping bag, several unisex outfits of average size (stylish, though on the colorful side), and a few assorted bras in case anyone with the relevant anatomy needs one. Necessities, too -- some soaps and towels, rescued from the empty settlements they'd passed along the way.

[alan_1]

[Recent circumstances mean Alan’s not really in the mood for social events. Still, the gathering advertised by the captains sounds like it might be a useful chance to clear out some of the clutter in his Pac-Disc without letting it go to waste and maybe get something he can use in return.

He’ll be there with Bit hovering over his shoulder, offering what few items in his inventory he doesn’t need. He’ll also take a look at what other people are offering, and though he’s limiting himself to necessities, his eye will nonetheless be drawn to any interesting tech people are showing off for trade as well...]

[infailtration]

[ York's got the opposite problem, pacdisc-wise. His is pretty barren, and he needs everything he has except perhaps the scavenged items from this planet. Those, he's willing to give up. But either way he's interested in the event and seeing what other people have up for grabs. Every now and then he'll comment on something and glance at his shoulder. Not unlike Bit, he has something hovering there. A holographic projection of a man wearing the same armor he is (though his helmet is under his arm as he wanders) glowing green.

Alan's too far away to hear them, but this will probably catch his attention. ]

[alan_1]

[It does indeed get Alan’s attention. At first, it’s just the flicker of green light that catches his gaze. Then, he sees the man talking to it and realizes that the green light is shaped like a little person. Curiosity draws him closer. The hologram doesn’t appear to be linked to the man’s TAB and unlike a simple message display, it appears to be aware of its surroundings.

Unfortunately for Alan, Bit takes Alan’s fixed attention on the projection as a suggestion to go investigate. By the time Alan realizes that Bit has left its spot above his shoulder, it’s already halfway to the armored man.]

Bit--!

[But it’s too late. Bit flies close enough to start scanning and Alan decides it’s best to bite the bullet than to risk Bit getting swatted out of the air for its intrusion. He quickly walks over.]

Bit, cut that out.

[His looks back at the man, and then at the green projection on his shoulder.] Sorry about that. Bit can be a little, ah, over-enthusiastic sometimes.

[”Yes! the shape agrees, momentarily flashing yellow and flat before returning to its default blue. Alan gives the Bit a pointed look and it returns to his shoulder.]

He was probably just curious about your friend there, [Alan says, nodding towards the green figure.

Nice save, Alan.]

[infailtration]

[ As he's approached York turns, Delta floating forward to remain on his shoulder. ]

It's fine. Bit? [ York looks at the floating device, hears it respond and automatically assumes it's an AI as well. He smiles and addresses it. ] Hey, Bit. This is Delta. Say hello, D.

Hello. [ Delta moves forward again, positioned in front of York to speak to Bit. ] What is your purpose?

[alan_1]

[Bit’s response to Delta’s query is a single word: ”Yes!” Alan clarifies:]

Bit’s mainly a data gatherer. He only has binary output though. [A slight smile.] Thus the name. [He doesn’t mention exactly how literal that name is, if only because he assumes most people don’t care much for the distinction unless they specifically ask. He looks back at the projection.]

Delta, right? May I ask what your function is?

[swarm_embrace]

[Kerrigan has very little to trade, but she also has a very narrow and specific range of things she wants. She's sure if she keeps fighting that sooner or later she's going to have one or more claws get caught and ripped off at a bad time. She could still punch, sure, but claws made taking targets down faster. So would a manufactured weapon.

At first it's the hovering... thing... that draws her attention. She's seen it and the man it's near a few times from a distance but usually while she had something else to do. Right now, he's here to trade, so she makes her way over while trying to look as un-intimidating and frightening as possible.]

Hello. I'm Kerrigan.

[It still feels weird that she has to say that, but it's wearing off after a little over two weeks of it.]

[alan_1]

[To be fair, a couple of years ago, he probably would have been very alarmed to see someone with an exoskeleton and strange spiky protrusions sticking out of their back. Now? The fact that the woman in front of him is recognizably human-shaped puts her pretty low on the list of the strangest things he’s seen since arriving in this universe.]

I’m Alan. Nice to meet you. [The back protrusions do get a glance or two, but he does his best not to stare.] Are you looking for anything in particular?

[swarm_embrace]

[His reaction, or lack-there-of, moves him up in Kerrigan's estimation of what kind of world he is or how long he's been here. In the current situation he doesn't even get points off for not being suspicious. She's obviously among the group here.]

I'm looking for weapons. I'm new here; all I have to trade is beer, minerals, and future favors.

[She thinks the last one is the most valuable thing she has to offer, but no one here knows her or what she can do. And there's the chance she might not stick around long enough for them to be used, but people are trying to go home anyway so it's a moot point.]

[alan_1]

[In other circumstances, somebody looking for weapons might cause Alan to ask a few questions. But Kerrigan looks plenty dangerous on her own already, so he doubts he’d be enabling anything she couldn’t do normally. He looks dubiously at the Pac-Disc in his hand.] I don’t think I have any-- [He stops, seeming to remember something.] Well, there is something the captains gave us a few weeks ago…

[He opens and reaches into his Pac-Disc, eventually pulling out what seems to be a sheathed knife. He holds it out to the woman.] I don’t know if that’s the kind of weapon you had in mind, but I doubt I’ll find much use for it. It might be handy if you’re the type who goes out in the exploring groups. [After all, the knife does advertise itself as a “Survival Knife” in big white letters on the blade.]

[notglitching]

[Having absolutely no desire to watch user-creatures eat each other, Rinzler can be found on the exact opposite side of the tent from the food. Most of his more useless acquisitions had never been saved to the storage disc at all... but given how little value any user belongings have to him, Rinzler's still got a large amount of items he'd consider useless.

The assortment fills one corner of the tent completely, warping the fabric at one edge where a hover-speeder is parked just a little too far back. Its current possessor can be identified by the dim red-orange lights, the constant rumbling growl, and the opaque black mask probably glaring in your direction.

Customer service at its finest. Go, fight, win?]

[purramedic]

[The, uh... purring person catches Anders' attention. And among all the high tech gear he doesn't even try to comprehend, what stands out is actually the pencil. Seems pretty straightforward.]

Can I interest you in a lightly used book of matches or two for your pencil? [Sounds fair to him.]

[notglitching]

[Definite points for directness. Rinzler's helmet fixes on the user in assessment, but apart from the rumbling, Anders won't hear any answer. Instead, the program reaches for his wrist. The MIDs might be defunct, but they make a convenient holder for his TAB—and it only takes one tap to call a holographic display.]

Function: matches?

[The letters scroll out in projection: red-orange against a dark grey textbox that hovers just to Rinzler's side.]

[purramedic]

[Okay. That is nowhere near the weirdest thing he's seen this month, so he can deal. He fumbles around with his own disc for a moment to bring out one of the books and demonstrate without actually using one up.]

They're for those not magically inclined to starting fires. You tear one out and strike it along this strip, and it burns.

[neverheardofhim]

[Varric found himself just a few seconds too late to make any sort of deal with the... creature sitting before him. He paused for a moment, considering chasing after Blondie instead and attempting a mugging, but hesitated. Instead, he looked over the wares one more time, then to the merchant himself.]


Don't suppose you have another one of those. [Varric jerked a thumb after the retreating blond, expression somewhat sour.]

[notglitching]

[On display, no. Rinzler had been keeping his other writing implement in reserve—in the event of a communicator failure, it might prove useful.

...though he also simply hadn't calculated for this much interest. In pencils, of all things. The black helmet tilts a little to one side, staring dubiously down at the short user before he reaches for his TAB. A touch calls the holographic display, and red-orange letters project to the program's side as he types.]

Reason (interest)?

[No really, the user can talk. What's his excuse?]

[neverheardofhim]

[Varric squinted at the... thing in front of him. A thousand questions bubbled behind his lips, held back only by the fact that vocalizing any of it would surely invoke its ire. If it was curious about his reasoning, then surely that meant it had something hiding. If the dwarf played his cards right, maybe he'd find himself lucky.]

[He studied the words for just a moment, before lifting his notebook up. He turned it over to the creature, short fingers stabbing at the words scrawled out there.]

I'm the guy that's going to make you live on forever. [No need for modesty here.] I write. Stories and the like. If you ask around, you can find some of my work, I'm sure. Right now, I'm hoping to start writing our history out. If anyone finds our bodies, they'll at least know what we went up against.

[yorisearching]

Yori has very little idea what of her random hoard might or might not be useful either to herself or to anyone, but she's had an interesting time wandering around to watch the trading anyway. She'll admit to watching Rinzler, too, thought she's trying not to make him uncomfortable about the fact.

When he moves to collect his things, it's a clear signal. Yori makes a quick excuse and heads for the exit nearest him, reaching it a few steps late. "Rinzler!" she greets with moderate cheer. As difficult as everything has been since the last crash, just seeing him is enough to make her smile.

She waves an idle hand back at the tent. "Find any useful trades?"

[notglitching]

The voice (her voice) prompts a stall, and Rinzler pauses midstep, noise skipping just a little as he turns. He'd seen Yori in the tent, of course. He'd thought he'd done a good enough job not staring too obviously (the mask helped), but...

No. Different query. There's a momentary lag, stare lingering on that quick smile, before reaches to his PAC-disc and taps once, rezzing up the small gun with its grappling line and holding it up for Yori's perusal. He's not sure how familiar she's become with user firearms in general, but the tip stays pointed away from either of them.

[yorisearching]

A passing acquaintance with a range of weapons is enough to peer at the hook on the end and judge, "Very nice," though Yori would be lost trying to use it herself. A tool suited to Rinzler. If he was wiling to trade for it he's probably tested it too.

"I didn't find anything I needed enough to trade for, though who knows..." She flutters a hand at the infinite possibilities of what they might need urgently in the inevitable next crisis. "Anyway, it's nice to see everyone relax a little."

Not that being in a tent full of Users is a good time for either of them to let their guard down. One reason why Yori's trailing Rinzler out with very little plan as to what to say. "How are the transports doing?"

It's never wrong to ask about flying. Putting entire ships into storage is more like home than she thought Users could manage and Yori's very grateful to have them safe, but she still worries about the long-term effects.

[inconsequence]

[Who's got two thumbs and a mess of completely unnecessary and unwanted equipment? There's a number of items they've on their person that are firmly and utterly not for sale - the Locket around their neck or the glinting red Knife at their hip, for one, or the small collection of sharp objects they've already stowed away on their person.

They're not the sort to call anyone's attention. If someone wants the useless jewels or the gum, that's their prerogative. Chara's priority is survival, and they will only accept items that will be sufficient in sustaining them. Raw materials, blankets, coats, weaponry - anything of the sort.]

i said i was gonna

[gainedlove]

[Much as the pair has been avoiding the crew at large, Frisk still had come along to try and offer what they had to help everyone else. They've gotten a lot of junk they're never really going to use, and so much had just been chucked into the PacDisk on a whim--they actually don't remember half of what was put in. Which is why they've sat down near Chara to go through their items one by one, pondering usefulness (or sentimental value) before either packing it away again or setting it aside.]

[When they produce a pair of odd boots, Frisk pauses for several moment to stare at them.]

...I thought Mom took these...

text; you're good buddy!

[inconsequence]

[There've not been any takers just yet, which is a suitable if dull turn of events. It also involves a minimum of actual interaction, which they find preferable for a great deal of reasons.

Frisk is, as always, never that far away. They carry something whose sleek contours coincide quite well with the battered sci-fi aesthetic of the place, and Chara does not bother to hide the vague quirk of an eyebrow.]

"These" being...?

[gainedlove]

Oh! Um.

[Fisk flushes a little, glancing up to Chara and then back to the boots.]

They're rocket boots. Th' captains used t' give out gifts a lot, I guess 'cuz it all fell outta th' Ingress an' they didn't really need it? This was one of my first ones, but I got in trouble usin' 'em in th' cargo bay.

[neverheardofhim]

[It took Varric awhile to amble in, and awhile longer to set up his station, which he deemed to be right beside the glasses. He gave the water a disgusted glance, reached for his pacdisc, and set about pulling out three bottles of alcohol, all three of which came from his home in Thedas.]

[The first was labeled "Dragon Piss" and was set out partially as a joke, but also because of the punch it packed. Beside it was something labeled as "Sun Blonde Vint-1," which the dwarf opened up and poured for himself. Finally there was Carnal, yet another joke given the rather suggestive looking peach-pit that someone was bound to find.]

[Once the bottles were settled, Varric found himself a seat nearby, watching eagerly for anyone who might find themselves curious enough to try anything from Varric's selection.]