Work Text:
Peaceful acquisition of goods in this dimension was its own kind of dance, but nevertheless the wanted vagabond Stanford Pines was desperate.
For one, local customs denied any alien outsider the privilege of gazing upon stock in a market stand, least they be labeled as potential thieves. The people who lived here were particularly... untrusting, as Ford quickly discovered. Not that he blamed them of course, but selfishly, it made stocking up a great degree more difficult. What these customs meant for him was that he had to know exactly which stand dealers to negotiate with for specific goods before arriving at the bazar. And of course he’d already pinned down the dealer he needed to buy his iodine (for water purification) from, but playing to the worst of his fears, they... didn’t desire to cooperate with outsiders today, it seemed.
Thanks to his earlier study of the bazar he made quick work of his journey, weaving through the stalls and the crowds like a true local. Scents of nearby roasted meats, alien fruits, and fermented drinks nearly made his empty stomach cry. He would have salivated, if it weren’t for the fact that he was seriously dehydrated on a world filled with creatures with little to no care for water sanitation. Within minutes, he approached the stall in question.
“I have heard word of your iodine stock and wish to buy,” he said, avoiding any passing glance at the goods in question as per tradition. The dealer’s whiskers twitched in suspicion. In their ear, Ford knew they were listening to a seconds-delayed translation of his words.
They spoke in return, the manner of their speech alien to him. “Tell, strange one, how is you’re sure I hold in stock?” his own translator relayed in grammatically incorrect feminine monotone.
“I heard second hand,” he stressed once more. “I seek not to steal, nor to disrespect the customs of your culture. I only seek to buy.”
The dealer sized him up, from his muddied boots up to the mangled, stained cotton of his scarf and the unruly grey shock of hair utop his head.
“No sell. Not to strange ones.”
“I can pay double.”
“NO SELL. Leave.”
Based on the dealer’s wild gesticulations and barring of teeth, Ford reckoned that they intended this as more of a demand than his translator could ever fully express. He hastily left the stand, but by now his throat almost burned with dryness and he was beginning to get a headache. The weight of the empty water canteen bouncing at his hip as he paced through the bazar only served as an extra reminder of how desperately he needed that iodine. He tiredly slumped against the base of a post and began to consider his next move.
Does he dare steal? Was he that desperate? Sure, it would be playing directly into the stereotype of outsiders as thieves this culture was so fearful of, but it also seemed they weren’t eager to move past this narrow view to begin with. Time did not tarry on his side. The one-day mark of not drinking any water stood only hours away. From here on out, death was a legitimate concern he needed to weigh into his decision-making. He swallowed, the motion hurting and feeling like a heavy stone dropping in his esophagus due to the dehydration.
That’s it.
If death was destined to find him today, then he’d rather it come swiftly in failed escape than slow and painful in the cowering of a man too afraid to stand up for his own dire needs.
Ford pulled himself to his feet, feeling his joints creak in exhaustion. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he traveled back to the stand he left behind. The last thing he needed was for bystanders to have bonus visual descriptors of his appearance, after all. Heart thrumming against his ribcage, achingly shallow to his skin, the correct stall appeared in his peripherals. He snuck a millisecond’s glance. The small bottle of iodine sat in front of the rest of the stall’s wares, in a basket. The same dealer that turned him away previously hadn’t noticed him yet.
His fingers twitched. He knew he’d only have once chance at this. Miss his opportunity now, and the dealer’s security would shoot to high alert for the rest of the day. The steady rhythm of his boots against the dust increased ever so slightly...
Just as the dealer turned to assist a local, Ford thrust his hand from his pocket, nicking a single bottom of iodine. But as stealthy as this move was, it couldn’t escape a watchful crowd’s notice. Creatures all around him began to point and shout. His translator only picked up the loudest of all the crowd’s cries.
“Thief. THIEF! STOP!”
Savior’s elixir securely in hand, he took off running, and never once glanced back.