MD #218: Shopping Struggles
Shopping Struggles
Summary: Yari needs some new civilian clothes. Randy and Clara lend their assistance and pickup Emily along the way.
Date: 12/11/2017 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: None
Yari Randy Clara Emily 
Bazaar, Mother Ship
Once a large, open area, over the years the Bazaar has developed into a maze-like warren with vendors ranging in size from single-person tables to fully-appointed shops. Larger shops line the two straight thoroughfares, but most of the stalls are set up along the narrow, winding paths and cul-de-sacs that take up the lions share of the space. The main laneways, which open up into wide plazas as they approach the passages to other areas of the ship are usually crowded and bustling, lit by lamps hung from each stall, full of shameless hawkers who all swear theyre not going to hassle you. The back alleys are lit largely by table lamps and string lights, though occasionally an ambitious entrepreneur sets up an old, salvaged neon sign.

If it weren't for Randy's elven ears and large eyes, she might actually blend in. Her hair is tousled and she's wearing some simple, rugged civilian clothing. Just some old raggedy gray jeans, some tanks, some thinish leather bracelets, and a burnt orange hoodie with black boots. Slung over her shoulder is an earthenware growler and a satchel. She has a pair of sunglasses perched on top of her head for whatever reason. She's in space. But this must have been one of her scores. Leaning back against a bulkhead, she plucks a joint from behind her ear and produces a lighter, flicking it at the joint as she inhales to get it started.

She's home. Almost. The shadows in the rear of stalls don't quite conceal the cold, metal bulkheads reminding one they're onboard a spacecraft and not in a /real/ town square. Also, there's a distinct lack of manure smell, which is frankly an improvement on the shopping experience, far as Yari's concerned. She stills catches herself looking down now and again, to check for patties underfoot.

Having dodged a grabby hand of an overly eager merchant, Yari hurries along the corridor in search of a narrower offshoot where the sensory input might be more manageable, crowd smaller. She's dressed in the obviously-Orion off duty uniform which, when paired with her flighty demeanor and apparent inability to appear 'casual', causes her to stand out among the locals.

Randy spots the Corpsman over the glow of the tip of her joint. Forming somewhat of an O with her lips, she lets a passable smoke ring flow out of her mouth and towards the young woman. "Hey. Are you here alone?" Not exactly an inviting phrase for someone trying to slip away from a crowd in a shady-ish market. "You okay?" She leans down to pull a knife from her boot and tilts her head towards where Yari came.

"Wha—yes! Yes, I'm fine." A visible wave of relief washes the wide-eyed look from Yari's face for about four seconds as she comes to startled halt and ID's a familiar face. A /friendly/ face. But then there's the knife, and Sawyer Jr snaps her head around as if to follow Randy's eyes and spot whatever danger she thinks the other woman's seeing. An unconscious half step draws her just that much nearer to ring-puffing Randy. "I came over with a couple marines, but…well, I may have lost them." Funny, the two hadn't seemed interested in browsing that rack of children's clothes. Maybe they didn't have families. Or, maybe they were MORE interested in "What's No Man's Land?" It's an earnest whisper, coming from one who knows she's definitely out of the loop.

Randy also puts herself between Yari and where she came from. Once she sees there is no threat, she kneels to slip the knife away again, toking as she rises up. "Arses. Well I won't leave you." She shrugs. At the question, Randy's lips twist upward slightly. "It's a bar, lounge. They have some dancers sometimes but it's mostly just drinks. Pretty cool! You want a puff?" Randy offers her joint out to Yari after ashing it into a metal can that's been bolted down to the deck. "You just take one or two puffs, hold the smoke in your lungs for a few moments and then let it go," she says in case Yari might be avoidant due to underexposure.

"Dancers? I — Oh. Umm," Yari eyes the joint with a /little/ trepidation, but in the ever-turning wheels of her brain, the greater danger in the here and now would be to paint herself apart from the older, more experienced soldier who appears unharassed by the surrounding chaos. "Okay. Yes." No. No, Yari…she takes it cautiously between forefinger and thumb and raises it to her lips with an understanding nod. One or two puffs.

Puff one: *sputter*cough*wheeeeeeze

Yari shuts her eyes and holds her breath in attempts to regain control of her breathing before she becomes a total embarassment and then sucks in a greedier, slightly hypoxic second breath/puff. Puff two holds a little longer before the smoke escapes out both nostrils and between fingers when she does her best to muffle the next round of respiratory protest. The joint gets passed back before it, like Lleufer's expensive scotch, is wasted on her unappreciative palate. "I'm sorry…"

"I should have brought my vaporizer. It's easier on the lungs." But it's war time, and Randy's more often in a trash-her-own-body devil-may-care mood than anything during war time. She smiles a little, completely patient with the woman as she monitors the second round. "No it's okay. You did better the second time. You should begin to feel it." She takes the joint from yari and takes a pull from it, eyes squinting as if she's still got a grin playing at her lips. After holding it in, she lets it go, though no fancy smoke rings or the like this time. "This form. It's more just meant to quickly get you buzzed," she explains. "You're the one with the kids right?"

"Feel what? Buzzed?" Sounds like bees, but Yari's heard the term before. She looks worried. The bag clutched between hands is cloth, so doesn't make a great deal of rustling about when her fingers knot up a little tighter in their hold. "I have children, yes." The Corpsman ducks a look back down to her bag. "Thought maybe next we go home, to our NEW home, they'll be need'n more clothes. Boys always grow so fast…" she pulls the bag open and the first item on top is a tiny dress. Not exactly boy clothing. "Maybe not as fast as baby sister, though."

"Buzzed, like relaxed kind of buzzed," Randy tries to explain, but just waves it off. If Yari feels it, she feels it. If she likes it, she likes it. "Mine are all grown. Well one is still missing, but I'm fortunate," which is a hard thing to say. She directs her eyes to the ceiling a moment before looking down and nodding. "Aye. They do. Aww, that's so cute," the tough little marine steps closer as she gushes over the tiny dress. "I miss those ages. If we weren't at war I'd be having more I think."

Clara wanders along a row of stalls, with an eye for any sweets on display. The Three is dressed in her civvies, as she generally is any chance she gets: a long skirt that swirls around her ankles, heeled boots and a leather jacket zipped up over a white tee shirt. Her hair is styled in an artfully messy braid, and she's got a lollipop in her mouth as she browses.

Yari coughs a little more lightly aside into her shoulder and twists the bag back up. "We can hope to see such a future for ourselves, can't we?" Like three's not enough. Her next look around at the nearest stalls seems a little less frantic, little more calm. Maybe she's feeling it. "S'easy to shop for them, still. I'm told I should spend such an effort on myself though, and…that's an entirely different sport."

"Well, I'm…not exactly the mum who spent much on herself. Given most of my days were spent working on a farm." Randy tries to explain lamely with a shrug. The whole market is a different experience for the enhanced little one. There's a rolling beat from all the hearts, so it's easier to pick things out from where her and Yari are now. There's a familiar heartbeat that edges its way into her hearing, pricking the back of her mind. She looks in the direction and spots Clara, "But /she/," she indicates with her thumb, "Can definitely help you out with that. Clara!" Randy cups the side of her mouth to help the sound travel.

Clara's head jerks around when her name is invoked from.. somewhere nearby. Dark eyes scan the smattering of people bustling like worker ants amongst the stalls, and double back on Randy when she spots her. A hand is lifted for a little wave, and the Three starts making her way over.

Yari tips her head aside and follows the direction of Randy's thumb. Clara! Indeed. Clara's worn lovely, long skirts and dresses. "Mostly mine were picked for me, so I've never had to. Used to go to market, before after Argus was born and I…overstepped the line. Didn't see much outside the house, after that." She lifts up a hand to wave a little back at the Three and takes a deeper, calmer breath that catches a little more of Randy's ambient smoke.

Randy looks sidelong to Yari, completely naive about the life back on the colonies and Piraeus. One can imagine, but it's not the same as living it, and Randy can't even begin to process what Yari says. When Clara nears, Randy plants a little kiss in greeting on the Three's cheek. "Hey Love. Here, there's a hit or two left," she offers the joint to the Three. "Yari here needs some help with shopping. I would help her but we'd be done in ten minutes and she'd probably regret it."

Clara darts her eyes between Randy and Yari as she nears, expression curious as she catches snippets of conversation. The cheek peck garners a slow, soft smile that disappears again fairly quickly. "Shopping?" Her eyes light up a bit. "Um, sure. What're you shopping for?" The Three is wearing a touch of pink lip gloss today that smells of strawberries, and leaves a very faint imprint when she takes a hit of Randy's joint.

"Something to wear that's not….this." Yari shrugs a helpless shoulder and one hand abandons the bag to pick at the hem of her double tanks. "For the rare chance I've reason to wear anything else, that is. Or trips home." A pause, and glance to Clara's skirt with a smile. "There's just so much to see here. I don't know where to start."

Randy leans back against the bulkhead casually, slipping her hands into her pockets as the other two women sort out the objectives, amused at how Clara seems to light up, even if she expected it. "I can help with the bartering," and she's not a bad judge of what looks good on someone once it's on them. "Well I imagine when we could start with a blouse. Maybe get something somewhat rugged for bouncing around on Pitchfork and then something nicer?" she tries to contribute vaguely, looking unsure if she's even being helpful.

Clara purses her lips a little, considering Yari's attire for a moment. "Maybe a couple of blouses, some moto jeans and a cute gypsy skirt. Oh, and a chunky knit sweater, if we can find someone who makes them." She pops her lollipop back into her mouth, and flashes a little smile Randy's way when the marine echoes one of her suggestions, and offers to help with bartering. "C'mon, let's start over there." And she trots off, skirts swishing about her ankles as she moves.

What are moto jeans!? Yari casts a nervous glance Randy's way but follows along obediently in Clara's wake like the good little novice she is. Lead and she shall follow!

Finding what one wants is as much about information gathering as it is searching about in this place. This is what Randy's good for on these trips. Her ability to network with the vendors and read each person in these microcosmic situational bubbles on the fly is…fantastic and might make someone pause as to why she's so clueless in other situations. As they make their way to get started and the other women look at clothing, Randy's hitting up the sellers and working the vine. She produces another joint from gods know where and lights up.

Clara is about as clueless with 'working the vine', and people in general, as Randy is with fashion. Luckily, they make a pretty decent team. She's gathered up an armload of clothes in no time, and while most vendors don't have curtained change areas per se, she seems confident about what will fit and what won't. (re for Yari)

Emily has been working her butt off with basic training. She was warned it would be hard, but nothing could have really prepared her. She hasn't 'broken' yet and had a good cry that anyone has /heard/ but if she hasn't, it'll likely happen. Everyone breaks at some point in Marine Basic. The girl refuses to quit, though. Every day she's up on time and she does her PT and goes to classes. All the exercise is paying off and she's even trimming up a bit. There's a little more definition to her arms that's already showing. There's a solid confidence to her as she moves through the bazaar, holding her head high as she looks about at different stalls. Seeing her in civilian clothes might be a bit weird at first, though. She's in a loose black t-shirt with some kind of faded logo across the chest and snug jeans. The black boots are more designer, though, and have a small heel to them. Seems Emily is attempting fashion. But she's also having a look at accessories and stops at the stall next to Clara and Randy, looking at necklaces.

Yari has found a scarf. Or kerchief. Or something that looks shapeless and large enough to be multifunctional as head covering, beach sarong, infant swaddler, or sling. It's red, which is the real, unspoken triumph in the small purchase. Red being a 'holy' color among the Skath-worshippers and a color she was banned from touching again that moment her palm struck Titos's smirking face. They'd stripped it off her before the beating. Now she's got it back. Suck it.

Clara's armload has her concerned though, so the scarf gets draped back over its rod with the promise she'll be back to claim it - don't you worry, scarf - and Yari moves in to have a look at what the master fashionista has assembled.

Randy is happy to have something to do and is already doing some pre-deal-making moves to prime the vendor to start out negotiations in a compromised position should there be a sale in the making. She also gets some good information on where one can find modern knits as she notices Emily. "Hey." But then she's turning her head to call out to the Three, "Clara, 'old sisters' have a stall a few rows down. Apparently they might have a chunky knit." Her eyes flick back to Emily and she purses her lips slightly. "Emily are you here alone?"

Emily looks over to Yari and smiles at her. "'Allo," she greets, wiggling fingers with a 'wave'. She's evaluating the look that Yari is going with for now and seems to approve given the look on her face. "How're you?" She then looks to Randy as she picks up a necklace, a thin silver one with a small fleur de lis. Em seems to like it quite a bit. "I am, yes. I come over here alone most evenings." Which means people probably know she doesn't usually travel as part of a pack, but they know her face. "I like to look at what is here and talk to people. There's so many interesting tales and stories, some of other worlds. I do love this place. I've been invited so many places, too. But basic training keeps me too busy to indulge. ..Isn't this beautiful?" she quickly adds, holding it up to her neck, checking a mirror.

"Emily!" Yari chirps back in greeting while pawing through the selection and takes a wardrobe chunk off Clara's arm to better view. "That is quite pretty," she agrees without really seeing what sort of pendant is hanging from the thread-thin silver. Oooh, these are some nice blouses, this one, maybe that one, that one doesn't have sleeves!? Her residual baby fat's been largely trimmed off by now, muscles restored to their cottage-life days, before the doctor's-wife days, but that doesn't mean she's keen on exposing it when she doesn't HAVE to. The sleeveless gets laid aside in the 'meh' pile, along with a pair of pants that must have been an accident. Except the other pair looks to be the same size. And this one. "Am I meant to be a sausage?" she challenges the picks with a mild look of alarm to her who's done the leg work. "Squeezed into this?" The garment gets held aloft, out to her side for comparison to her actual leg, which is really masked by the blousy, utilitarian off-duty greens pant. But the flesh'n'bone under that camo is about the same size AS this jean leg, which means yes, Yari. It's a tight fit. "How's this meant to be comfortable?" Her fingers pinch the denim. "Rubbin on your skin, like that?" She's got a lot to say for someone who hasn't actually tried it on.

Randy, for once, actually starts to get distracted by the clothing. She wanders to go look at Yari's piles and picks up the sleeveless blouse off of Yari's meh pile. The word sausage Randy looks up and laughs, allowing Clara to handle that one. "The materials are softer. It's just a matter of what you're used to," she tries to explain.

To Clara, most of what she's picked out is fairly modest. The Three is fond of teeny tiny skirts, after all - once she got over her initial awkwardness with her body. "It's denim," she explains flatly to Yari. "It'll stretch a little and get comfortable over time. By the way, the sleeveless blouse would look great on you. You've got nice arms." Emily is given a little finger waggle hello and a flash of an approving smile for the necklace. Yes, Clara's in her element when it comes to clothes.

Emily laughs to what Yari is getting at. She puts down the necklace and moves over to look at the selection. Lifting her leg out in front of her, she points down to the snug jeans. "It actually is quite comfortable. I mean I see many women around in much, much less. I've not the gusto to attempt such a thing yet, but I can understand the attraction. Eyes would follow you around, I'd imagine. Not always a bad thing." Emily holds a pleased little smile. "Try it out. Its not as if you're walking about the crowd in your bedclothes. I admit, however, I wish to own a skirt but am terrified of the cultural definition of them here," she laughs. "I also rather enjoy choosing my own shoes, rather than having my servants thrust them at me regardless of how comfortable they are."

"I don't think I /want/ eyes following me around…" Yari mopes a little, now that she's spent most the steam on dissing denim. "Least not here," she adds more quietly. She takes a moment to better observe Emily's fit and some of the other legs that go walking by. The girl is right. It could be worse! Well. If Emily can give it a go, then why not she? May as well be a good sport. "Fine." She decides and folds the pair over an arm. "I'll try it. Here." Making it clear that she's not committed to spending her very hard earned cubits yet, she hands her bag of children's clothes out to Randy for safe keeping, then gets three steps away toward a vendor to inquire before stopping, turning about face, marching back to snatch the sleeveless blouse, then goes off again. There's no harm in trying it on. Right?

Naturally Randy starts becoming the pack mule. She doesn't surrender the sleeveless blouse to Yari though, even after Clara says it would look good on the woman. Randy looks inside at the children's clothes Yari got while the other women do their rituals. Most stalls have a changing screen which folds up to have complete coverage from prying eyes, though it is rather small in there. On some stalls oddly shaped mirrors are hung on one of the panels.

Clara shrugs her shoulders. "I wear what I want, and once in a while what I think my girlfriend will like. I don't give a shit who's looking, otherwise." She fingers a scarf, compares it to the red one Yari chose, and lets it slip away as she moves on. "How about these?" she queries, holding up a pair of leather boots with a minimal heel and buckles up to the ankle.

"Mm." Emily seems to understand Clara's point of view. But Emi came from a very, very different family. Especially the last ten years. "I find I do enjoy showing off, though I suspect that's a product of my time as a royal. One must look good for the people you rule over and such." She goes back to fingering the necklace while Yari is trying on her items. She looks ot the vendor and tilts her head. "Do you have any earrings that might go with this? I do like the necklace but I need something to go with it." Hmmmm.

There's a big struggle happening on the other side of that changing screen. First there's the physical wrestling in cramped quarters to get the jeans tugged up over one buttock/hip, then the other, then the closure. What tiny trousers. There isn't a mirror in this one, but Yari feels like she's seen enough, looking down and peering curiously over shoulder. Oh my. Her hands glide lightly over her own backside, trying to gauge just how much shape is making its debut. It makes her blush. What's the problem, Sawyer?? Other women wear it, no issue. It's normal. Men probably don't look twice about it - cept what about that one she had to shimmy past to round the corner of this corridor? She could've sworn /someone/ gave her bum a pat. It was too crowded to tell who. Might've been an accident. Might not.

On the other side of the screen now is someone else wanting in, arms laden with clothes. "Come on!" is the cry thrown her way over the hum of shuffling feet and noisy shoppers. "What're you doing in there? Fancy yourself that much, do ya??"

Mortified, Yari cringes the spare inch away from the rattled screen and shakes her head. "I—I'm thinking!!" she yells back and paces in her tiny cage. "I just need a minute!" Which has stretched into almost ten, already.

Clara didn't come from a family at all. Or have a childhood, or an upbringing to speak of. She was forged in war, and several years spent being treated as sub-human. A cylon. Emily gets a weird look for her comment about 'looking good for the people you rule over', but doesn't argue with it. The boots, she decides to simply set down at the edge of Yari's curtain before moving on. A pair of ballet shoes catches her eye, and she pauses to pick them up. Turn them over. They've seen a lot of wear, but they are in her size. The Three simply.. zones out for a time. Lost in recollections of a life she lived, miles from here.
<FS3> Randy rolls Alertness: Success.

Emily finds some earrings to go with the necklace, small hoops that closely match the silver necklace. "This set. It looks like garbage, but it will work," she tells the stall owner. And so begins the bartering. But when Yari does not appear, Lady Em leans to the side and calls towards the curtain, "Miss Sawyer, if you're unable to judge on your own then step outside and BE judged. Come here and let us see you. Now. No more delays, missy." Chop chop.

"Barf," Randy says in clipped response to Emily's comment on ruling. There is no restraint. She then tries harder to zone out, eyes wandering around as she holds various things for the ladies. Clara's perusal of the ballet shoes catches her passing attention. "You should get them," she sugest softly. Then her eyes snap to Emily at her comment of the wares. "You're horrible at this. Do not call something that could have been made by someone standing near you garbage. Especially if you're about to trade for it. " She rolls her eyes and murmurs, "Amateur."

"I will NOT!" Missy Sawyer loudly snubs the 'invite' to come out. She recognizes the silent threat unspoken 'or else' for what it is though, and opts to strip off the pants before anyone gets a looksee. After much more struggle to get OUT of the jeans, Yari finally kicks them off her remaining foot in a move that almost knocks her cover down but DOES succeed in getting the person on the other side to bugger off. When she's finally climbed back inside her more familiar, unfamiliar skin, the corpsman stumbles out and over a boot. Yari goes down in a heap of embarrassment and then that's it. She's had it. The jeans, the boots, the whatever she can grab from the pile of blouses get gathered into arms - scarf included - and she announces to her entourage "I'm done I want to go elsewhere," and seizes out a fistful of money from her belt to start counting. Fingers are clumsy in this distressed frenzy though, and it's not long before she's dropping things.

Clara draws in a breath, breaking her statue-like stillness. She blinks a couple of times and looks over to Randy. "Yeah.. maybe I will." She digs around in the pocket of her leather jacket, and produces a pack of smokes and a pair of fairly nice sunglasses. They're held out to the shopkeeper with a little tilt of her head in question. After a little back and forth, she parts with another pack of smokes and collects the shoes. The conversation between Randy and Emily is left the hell alone. "You look like you need a drink," she points out helpfully to Yari. "And I hope you've got something to barter with. I dunno if cubits are worth much around here."

Randy was correct. The stall owner did make the jewelry in part and eventually tells Emily to, more or less, frak the hell off. Emily is left without anything and she frowns. That was unexpected. "I may be terrible at it, but I'm trying to not be terrible. How does one barter if you cannot haggle with price and devalue it?" she mutters. It was easier at the clothier. She brings in a dress, they gave her a choice of clothes to pick from. Seeing Yri come back out without the jeans, though? Sad. But she does seem to be leaving with them. That's a good thing.

Yari pauses in her fumbling and makes a show of looking herself up and down. There's nothing. The thought hadn't occurred to her. She was in need of clothing, of things, because she hadn't any. "Well, I…I don't /have/…" Her lips purse together and she looks aside, eyes a little bloodshot from more than just the joint. "They didn't give me time to pack much just…just threw some of the little ones' things in a bag a-and shoes on our feet, and…" a moment of genius dawns upon her face. There /was/ 1 thing she was wearing - other than that damnable wedding band - the night when she caught her husband's brains with her face instead of the glass of water she'd been on her way to steal from the tap.

The earrings.

Yari drops all the things on the floor and shakily reaches up to pull the tiny green studs from her ears.

"Frak, they won't take that here. Well they will but as things, not as real currency." Randy helps Yari quickly but doesn't otherwise harass her or rib her or anything, handing over the woman's pull for her children. Randy can easily hear what happens to Emily and says, "You can. But you need to not hurt anyone's pride. Say you saw something similar going for less. Try to add more items in your deal to confuse the total value. Start with one super low bid and then act like you're stretching to throw in two of something you can tell the guy has no idea what it is. Convince them of the value." These little deceits seem to come as naturally as /breathing/ to the EOD. She slips to the Three's side as her eyes are drawn to the ballet shoes in Clara's hands. "They're going to take time before they can enjoy real clothes. Small doses," says the woman who just bought that sleeveless shirt. "I need a drink."

Clara looks in awe of Randy's bartering know-how. She brushes her fingers against the small of the woman's back, ever so briefly, when she moves in close. "Where the frak am I gonna wear these?" she murmurs, holding the dancing shoes up by their ribbons. "I probably left three or four pairs of these, and a couple of pointe shoes behind on Leonis.. wonder where they are now. You got time to grab something from No Man's Land?" Yari's earrings get a glance. Are those jade?

Emily watches Yari, seeming to understand something of that. "I had thought I only had what I was wearing when I came aboard. Turns out Gunnery Sergeant Ynyr grabbed a few items for me. They will make useful trade." Randy's points about bartering get a longer frown, but she seems to understnd that much. She messed up. Chances of getting that set are now pretty low. "Blast." She sighs and ends up nodding to Clara and Randy. "I'll leave you two to enjoy your drinks. Enjoy."

Randy leans closer to the Three, presumably with a suggestion for her question. "I'm sure Celeste got them after we disappeared." If she didn't take the whole thing personally. She looks back over to Emily and smiles gently. "It's no big deal. It just takes practice. You'll get better at it." She lifts a hand to wave to Emily and loops her arm in Clara's to steer her towards No Man's Land. "I do."

<FS3> Yari rolls Mind: Failure.

Maybe they're jade? All Yari remembers about the set is what big fuss Titos made the night be presented them to her. How /expensive/ they'd been to buy so she must understand what a priviledge it was to receive them as favor for bearing his second son. After her first, she'd gotten a 'zoo', but only once it became evident that a squalling infant in arms was not enough to drive the girl out of her depression. Caged animals evidently did the trick, if only because their status made her plight seem somehow less shitty, by comparison. Vasilis earned her a zoo. Argus these polished stones. Ionia's arrival was without any pomp and circumstance though, seeing as she was still confined to her room in isolation at the time of HER birth.

The maybe-jade balls are held within viewing distance in palm, tipped forward toward the vendor. Will they make a fair bargain or will she only walk away with scarf in hand?? To be revealed back in the bunkroom.

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