Will's trip to Deep Space 9

[visible_sariel]

the door opens on a corridor not entirely unlike those on the Enterprise; comm panels on the walls, deckplates underfoot, airlocks opening and closing with audible hisses in the middle distance. Despite all that, things look just a little more... civilian here. Not everyone passing by is in the same uniform, or in uniform at all, for one. Far from it.

Sariel waits until the corridor's as close to clear as it's likely to get before ducking through, beckoning Will after as soon as her feet hit the station's floor. She still looks a little nervous, but there's a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth all the same. "Welcome to Deep Space 9," she says as the door closes behind them.

Comments

[will_scarlett]

"I'll just trust ye in terms o'what tastes good. 'rhaps could e'en find somethin' for Kate 'ere too."

Will's enjoying all the different species and shops around them, its just lovely.

[visible_sariel]

"That's definitely a possibility," Sariel agrees as she starts walking. She's keeping one eye on where she's going and one on Will himself, just so she doesn't lose him in the crowd. Getting separated from a friend is one thing. When that friend is from another world and unfamiliar with spacefaring culture, never mind unfamiliar with alien life... well. That's quite another.

That corridor they're in empties into a much wider, much more heavily trafficked one; the busier end was right. Not everybody here is human, that's certain. Nose ridges abound (this is a Bajoran station, after all) and there are no small number of people with pointed ears, blue skin or spots, as well. ... Not all at once, mind.

[will_scarlett]

Will tries to not stare too much but when they pass a Cardassian's shop and stops at the sight of all the ridges, blinking as he tries to not be too obvious.

[visible_sariel]

Sariel does discreetly nudge him; you never can be too careful. "His species is called Cardassian," she explains. "Anyone with nose ridges is likely Bajoran, and--oh..."

the reason for the murmur? Several very large, very imposing-looking aliens who've just piled out of a nearby restaurant. "Those are Nausicans," Sariel finishes after a moment. "they aren't generally very pleasant to Starfleet officers." Translation: Let's keep the heck out of their way, shall we?

[will_scarlett]

He nods and looks down as he moves on rather quickly,

"'rhaps could find a place to sit an ye could 'xplain 'bout 'em all to me."

[visible_sariel]

Wise move. Very wise move, at that. Sariel's walking more quickly herself. The Nausicans, luckily, don't notice them as they go by.

"I could certainly try," Sariel answers once they're out of close range of the surly-looking party. "We could find somewhere... what about over there?" What she's nodded to is a cluster of restaurants and shops, among them a rather... er, well. Eye-catching might be a generous way of describing Quark's, but it could certainly work. She may not have intended to indicate that particular place, but it does rather well at indicating itself.

[will_scarlett]

"Aye, should work though seems kind o'fancy for a tavern."

Though as they get closer, it does seem to have a good mix of locals and natives including some just enjoying a drink. Inside some yelling does emerge at the betting tables.

[visible_sariel]

"Certainly different from Milliways," Sariel observes quietly as they make their way in. If the sudden yells of 'dabo!' from off to one side are any indication, this place is very, very different from the bar at the end of the multiverse.

Sariel scans the room, looking for an empty table; she spots one, but a half-dozen Bajorans get it before she can turn. "Do you see anywhere we can sit, Will?"

[will_scarlett]

"'rhaps just at the Bar since seats seem 'ard to find 'ere."

He looks over as they pass the gaming tables, gold pressed latium seems as if it would pay for the tax for years.

[visible_sariel]

Oh nooo you don't, outlaw. Sariel may or may not have caught Will's glance, but she certainly heard his suggestion and took it to heart. She's obligingly threading her way through the crowd toward the bar.

Toward the bar with the large-eared man behind it. Er. Heads up, Will.

[will_scarlett]

A minute or two later, he follows behind after watching the close of a game and settles beside her,

"Seems to be lots o'rich folks 'ere."

[visible_sariel]

Score one for not losing her friend in a crowd. "Not everyone is," Sariel replies. "Quite a few people live and work on this station, and more pass through here every day. Some are, but not--" she's cut off rather spectacularly by... well, his voice is unmistakable, let's just leave it at that.

"How can I help you two fine customers?" Enter Quark. Memorably.

[will_scarlett]

Will greets Quark with a smile of his own to hide the inner voice of confusion,

"Was thinkin' 'rhaps somethin' to drink an eat, aye, Sariel?"

[visible_sariel]

Sariel isn't raising any objections to the idea. She does give Will a sidelong glance before she answers Quark; she'll explain in a second, she promises. She ends up asking for hasperat and ginger tea, which leaves Quark rolling his eyes theatrically as he turns toward Will.

"You Federation types. You just don't know good alcohol. Must be all that synthehol -- you have no idea what you're missing." That might just be a challenge.

[will_scarlett]

"Could ye 'rhaps give me good glass o'a nice whiskey then least if ye've got it."

Will doesn't say anything to the Federation comment since honestly he doesn't hold himself like one.

[visible_sariel]

This could get interesting in a hurry. Sariel seems to realize it, but keeps her mouth shut for the moment. Quark, for his part, isn't phased by either Will's drink order or his lack of reaction to the mild jibe at the Federation. there are all kinds on colony worlds, after all. Off the Ferengi goes.

"His species is called Ferengi," Sariel explains quietly as soon as the bartender's out of earshot. Pause. "I'd be careful of drinking too much, in here." Not that she's trying to step on his metaphorical toes, she'd just... sooner not end up in a sticky situation if she can avoid it. "Sorry, Will."

[will_scarlett]

"Wasna plannin' on drinkin' that much just wish for a taste o'somethin' new. Dinna worry so, I've done some travelin'."

[visible_sariel]

Sariel does look a little sheepish at that. "I know you have, I just... worry." Pause. "I'm sorry."

Quark picks that moment to return, bearing two drinks -- one giving off ginger-scented steam and one decidedly not -- and a plate of what look like small, rolled sandwiches. "Here you go! And which one of you gets the bad news?" Sariel fishes for a credit chip automatically; apparently she does.

[will_scarlett]

"Thank ye, sir. Ye've a fine establishment 'ere."

He moves over and gives Sariel a quick squeeze, she does worry a lot.

[visible_sariel]

She does indeed, but at least she realizes it and tries to stop herself some of the time? Will gets a smile as the bill is settled up and the credit chip is handed back. "I'm glad to hear you say that," Quark crows at them. "Finest on the station, if I do say so myself. If there's anything else I can get you two..." Quark trails away with a conspiratorial wink, turning to another customer.

"thank you," Sariel calls after the retreating barman. "Ferengi are merchants," she explains, diverted at least somewhat from being caught in her own caution a moment before. "Usually merchants, anyway." Beat. "Would you like one?" She's offering him the hasperat, not the tea -- there's only one mug of that to start with.

[will_scarlett]

"Oh aye."

Carefully he takes a bite, not quite sure what to expect,

"Seems like a good sort o'merchant if 'e runs this place."

[visible_sariel]

"From what I've heard, he's a very... successful merchant," Sariel answers over a first sip of that tea. "I hadn't met him before today--oh, I should warn you, those are very..." Too late.

"Very spicy," she finishes a bit lamely. Oops?

She wasn't kidding, either. Hasperat has a serious zing to it, to be sure.

[will_scarlett]

Will just turns first pale and then rather red as he has trouble talking and knowing what to do next.

[visible_sariel]

Oh, crud. "I'm sorry, Will..." It's a definitely apologetic Sariel who nudges her friend's drink helpfully toward his nearer hand. She's in no danger of knocking the glass off the table at least; that's one disaster averted, if nothing else.

[will_scarlett]

He nods and takes some careful sips of the whiskey,

"Bloody 'ell, what's in that?"