It was now Daniel's turn to grimace at her. He hadn't meant it quite that way! Eva found herself with a disapproving look aimed her way. People had died, slowly and painfully from radiation sickness; there was nothing to joke about. "That's in poor taste, and you know it. It's not funny."
Know-it-all. Daniel's mouth twitched. He'd just been thinking about not playing their games as much as he could; focus only on survival and if he could, get the blood shed to stop. But not play up to the audience or acknowledge them or the Capitol. That sunk home, maybe deeper than she knew. 'know-it-all' was the general feel that had gone around some circles back home, though said a little more eloquently; because why use three short words, when triple the amount would do. Sarah had mentioned it to him before, that she'd gotten wind of the general sentiment from some of his peers back when he'd at least been respectable once back in the academic community. He'd always ignored it. The academic community prided itself on changing the world and human knowledge. His theories about the pyramids and cross-pollination had basis, evidence, and the world needed to hear it, whether it was ready for it or not. Turned out the academic community liked change... but not too much change. Sarah's patience also only went so far, it turned out.
Daniel wasn't always right about everything. And who knew better about the games than the Victor? Maybe she was right; people could be vindictive. He'd just figured it would be more petty than a life or death situation. The archaeologist still sounded doubtful. He sighed. "So I'm supposed to play up the vulnerable type, bat my eyes and hope someone takes pity on me and sponsors me?"
He'd spent so long alone, looking after himself, and then, once he'd joined SG-1, proving he could be part of the team that the idea she was suggesting was a repellant one. he didn't know if he could do it. If he even gave off that air at all, he didn't know he was doing it or when.
"I would've thought of patron families, the very wealthy or powerful individuals and organizations. Like the Roman Catholic Church or the Medici family. Rulers or nobles; I wouldn't necessarily think of them as the lowest common denominator," Daniel's head tilted curiously, eyes searching her face for clues, and whether she would drop something other than coy hints. What was she talking about? The lowest common denominator might fall in on some limited examples, but overall, most patrons (most) didn't fall under that name, by virtue of being able to afford to act as patrons. When he thought of lowest common denominators, when he got particularly annoyed, he thought of the people who were happy in their ignorance and cruel, bullies. Not that that meant rulers and governments and so on couldn't be just as short-sighted or cruel either. "And I'm supposed to gain the interest of as many Sponsors as possible?
no subject
Know-it-all. Daniel's mouth twitched. He'd just been thinking about not playing their games as much as he could; focus only on survival and if he could, get the blood shed to stop. But not play up to the audience or acknowledge them or the Capitol. That sunk home, maybe deeper than she knew. 'know-it-all' was the general feel that had gone around some circles back home, though said a little more eloquently; because why use three short words, when triple the amount would do. Sarah had mentioned it to him before, that she'd gotten wind of the general sentiment from some of his peers back when he'd at least been respectable once back in the academic community. He'd always ignored it. The academic community prided itself on changing the world and human knowledge. His theories about the pyramids and cross-pollination had basis, evidence, and the world needed to hear it, whether it was ready for it or not. Turned out the academic community liked change... but not too much change. Sarah's patience also only went so far, it turned out.
Daniel wasn't always right about everything. And who knew better about the games than the Victor? Maybe she was right; people could be vindictive. He'd just figured it would be more petty than a life or death situation. The archaeologist still sounded doubtful. He sighed. "So I'm supposed to play up the vulnerable type, bat my eyes and hope someone takes pity on me and sponsors me?"
He'd spent so long alone, looking after himself, and then, once he'd joined SG-1, proving he could be part of the team that the idea she was suggesting was a repellant one. he didn't know if he could do it. If he even gave off that air at all, he didn't know he was doing it or when.
"I would've thought of patron families, the very wealthy or powerful individuals and organizations. Like the Roman Catholic Church or the Medici family. Rulers or nobles; I wouldn't necessarily think of them as the lowest common denominator," Daniel's head tilted curiously, eyes searching her face for clues, and whether she would drop something other than coy hints. What was she talking about? The lowest common denominator might fall in on some limited examples, but overall, most patrons (most) didn't fall under that name, by virtue of being able to afford to act as patrons. When he thought of lowest common denominators, when he got particularly annoyed, he thought of the people who were happy in their ignorance and cruel, bullies. Not that that meant rulers and governments and so on couldn't be just as short-sighted or cruel either. "And I'm supposed to gain the interest of as many Sponsors as possible?