Galileo's Burden, Phase OMG: Comfortably Numb

[cityship]

All the torches in the village were lit, and the smell of cooked meat wafted through the air. The village center was the site of a tremendous bonfire, surrounded by cushions for the guests of honor. The Oryans performed a ceremonial dance to kick off the festivities, and then came the food. Piles of it, magnificently colored and all lovingly prepared for the so-called sky people.

As the bonfire settled down into cinders and the night wore down, the local brewmaster passed around a jug of banni, the fermented fruit of a local tree. Banni, as he explained to the visitors, was carefully brewed in wooden casks made from the tree's bark. It took a brewmaster to create the mix, however, due to certain special properties in the bark.

The Oryans didn't really explain what those were.

But as the liquor (or tea, an alternative for those who prefer not to drink) was served out, there was a feeling of peace in the village.


(OOC: SUBTHREADS ARE FINE!)

Comments

[puny-parker.livejournal.com]

Peter, who was next to Billy, rolled his eyes. "Dude, save the Eeyore voice for when we're completely doomed."

[medicalmind.livejournal.com]

"Obviously they want us alive, otherwise they wouldn't have gone to all this trouble," Scarlet added, attempting to sound reassuring. She couldn't claim that all her higher cognitive functions had kicked back in after whatever drug they'd been slipped, but she was aware enough that she'd righted herself and was looking around their prison, trying to get her bearings.

"We'll find a way out of this. We're all smart people, right?"

[hi_there_aliens]

"'m fine," came Daniel's muffled voice from the other end of the room. The archaeologist was lying face down, arms pulled tightly behind his back. He turned his head with a sigh of relief. His neck was killing him.

He shouldn't be surprised by now. Waking, tied up, fuzzy, and face pushed into cold rock and not a clue how he got there was not how Daniel liked to start a day. Or night, and yet somehow he found this happened a surprising amount to him. Whoever said archaeology was all books and cataloging never ran with SG-1 or this crew.

Daniel took the time to consider the options and their surroundings. When you were lying, bound, there weren't actually as many of each you'd think. The room itself was small. Nondescript. Damp. It looked like he'd come to in the middle of a conversation. Who knew how long he'd been unconscious. Scarlet seemed convinced that there was a malicious intent at work. Daniel wasn't so sure. There had to be an explanation. They should try and talk to the tribe before assuming it was always coming down to hostiles and hostile intent.

And frankly, wars started over less.

Daniel managed to roll himself onto his side. His glasses were hanging lopsided, barely perched on his face. Absently, he noticed that there was an oily splotch where a lens had pressed against his cheek and eyelid. He wished someone had their hands free. It was going to annoy him to death if he couldn't get it cleaned.

He licked at dry lips. His mouth tasted like sandpaper. "Maybe there's been a misunderstanding. We don't understand a lot about the Oryans. We may have offended them," Daniel offered. Okay, well, it sounded kinda lame given the circumstances. That feast had been in good will. He hadn't felt any hostility behind their actions. He was sure the Oryans appreciated the aid, but...

If only he could speak for the entire night. Daniel had obliged them and followed along, drinking the offered mix. He'd only taken a small sip, both to try it out and for politeness' sake. It wasn't like he'd never gone with the local customs and foods. He didn't remember that much after that. That got the anthropologist in him worried. He'd lost time. Either that drink had been incredibly potent, possible with a different effect on human physiology, or drugged. Time lost meant there was a large window of time and it was possible that he, or anyone else, might have royally ticked off the tribe. If so, they had to smooth this out, fast.

He seemed to come to a decision. Awkwardly, with a Herculean effort, Daniel got to his knees.

The archaeologist staggered over to the sealed door. "Hey!" He called out. "I think there's been a misunderstanding. Where is Mother Reda? I have to speak with her!"

[couldputitback]

Faiza had been struggling with her bonds about as long as the others had been awake. "You know, this is somehow part of the superhero experience that I never had to deal with before now." And it pretty much sucked.

She didn't have fine enough control of her powers to be able to help with the ropes, but she tried anyway. After a few moments, she shook her head. "And mine are out for the count, too." Just as well. They were rather gross. "There must be some sort of power dampening here."

It was a struggle to sit up, but she managed, not pitting her hijab out of place. Actually, she was happy to see that it still was in place. "Nobody did anything that the Oryans considered offensive, that I could see. Well, unless they're insulted by bad karaoke. Which, if they're insulted by that, they shouldn't be plying guests with so much drink."

[greennotgold]

Everyone else was getting up... Fletcher finally forced himself up to a sitting position. He'd managed to avoid smudging his face with dirt, but one of the flaps on his headband was now filthy. Nothing a little alchemy couldn't fix... if he could still use it. No one else's powers were working, and while Fletcher himself would hardly call alchemy a "power", the rest of the multiverse probably didn't agree.

He closed his eyes to make himself calm down and concentrate on the transmutation circle he was drawing on the ground behind his back to help undo the ropes. Of course, once he was finished nothing happened. "I can't use mine..." he added, then fell silent as he listened to the discussion of what they could have done to deserve this. He couldn't think of a thing.

[hi_there_aliens]

"That you could see," Daniel repeated over his shoulder at Faiza. His head was clearing up, a little. Now instead instead of feeling like it was stuffed with sawdust, now it felt like it was stuffed with a little cotton. He guessed it was an improvement. "We could easily have done something wrong. We've only been here a week and this is a new culture. " At least, he thought that was the case. Maybe this crew had met before he'd woken up on Stacy. But it might take you years to be familiar with a culture. He'd only been on Abydos a year and he still found something new to learn. Luckily accidentally offending the Abydonians was harder than it looked, but it tended to help that he was both an oddity to them, at least initially, and that he had helped defeat Ra.

If they had offended their hosts, actually, Daniel was surprised the entire group had lasted so long without doing so before. "We need to at least talk to them first."

The archaeologist leaned heavily on the wall near the door. Someone had to be out there. They wouldn't leave them to rot, would they? "Anyone there?!" he called again.

[notlewis]

"Usually when I insult people, they don't throw me a party before they retaliate," Luis muttered. He rolled onto his side and used the inertia to sit up, leaning back against the nearest cave wall behind him.

"Ay, shit... I'm never going to drink again..."

[morphitudinous]

"A well laid trap," Billy retorted weakly, his voice hitting the floor. His body was in a strange sort of position, forehead pushing against the ground and hips up. He seemed to be trying to force his glasses back onto his face, not that they were particularly useful now. The chill helped his pounding headache, at least a little. Perhaps even enough to free his mental resources.

"I don't know what I've done. I could've...violated standards of modesty, or misspoke, or...that may not even be the cause." His words were hesitant and slurred, the drugs clearly still in effect. This boy never did exciting things that resulted in hangovers, that was for sure.

[notlewis]

"Don't jump to any conclusions, amigo," Luis replied, wincing. He had quite a headache.

"I... think there might be more to this than just a faux pas at dinner."

[couldputitback]

"Yes, let's not get ahead of ourselves." Faiza glanced at Luis, biting her bottom lip a moment before turning back to the others. "I also don't think we can assume that this is necessarily because of something that we've done wrong. Too many questions that need to be answered first off."

[hi_there_aliens]

That's any different than assuming it's a trap and they're out to get us? Daniel thought, looking back at the others, but for once, had the sense to keep his mouth shut. He'd woken up to the other scientists jumping to conclusions about their hosts. Normally he'd be more than happy to give his two cents (again), whether it was welcome or not, but he didn't think it would matter right now. Fighting them on the issue didn't get them out of the cell, and wasn't going to prevent violence at the moment. Unless one of them had freed themselves, that was up to the Oryans, not them.

He supposed he should be thankful. Maybe they were making all kinds of assumptions, but unlike the military, weren't making plans to retaliate.

The archaeologist leaned heavily on the wall, wishing his legs didn't feel like rubber, which probably had less to do with the floor being uneven and everything to do with how woolen his head felt. He glanced back at the group. The Doctor was still stretched out on the floor, and he thought, looked terrible. Shouldn't he be up by now?