Shore Leave: Arrival

[cityship]

After the briefing, the Orbs Deck disconnected from Stacy, making it's way down to the planet and landing on the top of what looked like...a mall.

Outside, a mismatch of buildings stretched as far as the eye could see on a backdrop of a sunny green sky, a few golden clouds lazily floating across it. Here there was a mall, there there was a endless parade of street shops, and over there was a bazaar. And everywhere you looked there was advertising, selling everything from kitchen knives to starship engines to pet cosmetic surgery.

And populating this world was a practically endless number of species's, all of them brought together by one thing: trading. Credit was being exchanged everywhere you looked, from the shiny exclusive stores to the the dark and dangerous spaces in-between.

As the crew stood around, a peculiar looking alien with a mustache approached them, his oddly-shaped legs and knees making it looks as if he was walking backwards even though he was coming forwards. And as he moved, his accordian-like midsection made moved, making a weird, wheezing noise that might remind some of the crew native to Earth of the sound of Fran Dresser's voice.

<Welcome to XaXing, strangers!> he said to them in thought-speak, eagerly rushing towards everyone. <I am Guide! Your ship has already arranged accommodation for you, and I have been employed to guide you there and answer your questions! But if you would just sell me your memories then I can also guide you to all of the best stores and markets...>

[[ooc: After this post, everyone is free to make their own posts on the planet! Just tag all logs for Shore Leave with !plot: shore leave.

Also, if you have any questions you can ask Guide! ...just be prepared for him to also try to buy your kidney.]]

Comments

[cityship]

<Perhaps your clothing?> Guide suggested. <I can pay credit for your skirt with the interesting pattern!>

[bonnypiperlad]

Jamie's mouth pulls off to the side in a rather spectacular manner, and one hand unconsciously moves to protect the garment from the mustachioed beastie. He's not even sure how something like that could grow a mustache to begin with...and he's certainly not about to give his clothing up to it. Definitely not his kilt, at any rate.

"Look, I'll have ye know it's called a kilt. Not a skirt. And it's not for sale."

[cityship]

<What about any spare organs?> Guide said. <Maybe a couple of fingers, or your ears?>

[bonnypiperlad]

Spare organs??!! The beastie is daft, that's all that is to it. "No," he says flatly. "I've none to spare for ye."

He'd much rather try find things on his own, he thinks, then to do that. Pivoting on one foot, he turns and starts to walk away.