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For once, Glaucon was speechless. And that was a feat worthy of the gods, given how verbose he usually was. But it was his host. Standing in front of him, fit and healthy in ways that he could only be in his dreams while he was still alive.

A few moments passed with the god simply staring, the composure stripping away from his face to reveal a strange, confusion-riddled brand of grief. It was David's appearance, and his voice... but the demeanor and manner of speaking belonged fully to the Andalite. Now he understood, to some degree -- she had 'acquired' his form, and was now able to use it to pass as human. How many times had he done the same, before he had taken the body completely? But there would be no mental voice from the young man to interrupt his latest doppelganger's thoughts.

"David is the name of the man you have now transformed into," he answered. "You must have only acquired the parts of me that are still mortal, and not the ones that are divine. And your name is is Estreen? Or is that the word for shapeshifting on your world?"

"Correct. Lady Music was once the same as I, but she has since ascended to full godhood. In time, I will do the same. Rebirth means a rise back to our old power. It begins with a mortal body." Simple enough.

And also bizarre enough, to see the stoic and arrogant Andalite stealing moments here and there to make silly faces. Was having a mouth really that much of a novelty?

Although the introduction was largely informal, Glaucon still acknowledged it with a bow. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Should I use the full name, ambassador? Or is there a short version your people would normally address you by?" He set his eyes free from the strange sight of his host with another's voice, to regard the nearby building of the Pantheon. They had made a mutual agreement out of the Andalite's need to mingle... and simply standing here and talking was not meeting this need.

"It might be best to take this conversation somewhere you can observe more of the Pantheon," he offered.

A nod. "Exalla it is. And you need not use any honorifics to address me." Not that he had provided any that she could use, and not that she would agree to use any unless somehow forced. But Glaucon was, by nature, a creature of formality.

"Our Library would be worthwhile, as there is bound to be some literature on our history there..." he pondered. "But I believe that should come later. The marketplace would be the ideal place to begin, to see what composes the daily lives of the mortals of the Pantheon. I have been planning to take a closer look at it myself."

So they began that way, Glaucon somewhat slow in pace, though he hoped that might be compensated for by Exalla's inexperience walking on two legs. "How much time do we have before you must change back?" the god asked, as they approached. "Will you need to acquire another human form afterwards?"

Architecture aside, the two-legged form was ideal just for the sake of navigating through the traffic created by throngs of moving people. The marketplace was very much alive in activity, and a sense of pride for the gods and mortals who had made it that way was clear in Judgment's face. It was good to see how much the community was prospering. "It may take more than one visit, then, to take in the full scope of this place," he observed.

"Though a composite morph may be wise. As long as you look like David, people may mistake you for him." Hopefully that would not be an issue here, but if it came to it they would be able to figure out an explanation. Glaucon led in probing the marketplace further, in hopeful search of a familiar face while he was around -- a god, or a refugee of Baadris even.

"If you got a problem with the quality of our work, then don't dirty it up with your hands," growled the artisan, as he threaded a thin chain into another item. "Leave it clean for the folks who know what quality is!"

Glaucon quickly moved to wave Exalla away, and over to hopefully more friendlier stalls. He hoped she would follow, otherwise they would be whittling away precious time having arguments with shopkeepers. "Some sell decorative items, yes. But the market should also sell practical things... tools, cloth, and food, for example..."

The smell of food was present throughout the whole street, but one aroma rose above the rest as their meandering path took them closer to a small food stall, its cook serving up a freshly-prepared bowl of noodles in fish broth to the single customer sitting on one of the seats built into the tiny outdoor restaurant. It was all too tempting for Glaucon, who was desperate for a rest after all the time he had spent standing and walking. His legs felt like they were about to stage a mutiny against him.

"How about we eat something?" the god offered, gesturing to the stall. "Cuisine is an important part of tourism, after all."

"What are you learning? A good question. I would say that you are getting firsthand experience in how people interact here," he explained as they walked. "The market is a beautiful place, Exalla. It is where the simplest of social contracts are carried out, day by day... goods for services, services for currency, and any other combination. The very heart of a just community resides here. By coming here, you can learn much of what people value. I would advise you not to let your inner disagreements blind you to this knowledge."

They arrived at the food stall, and where Exalla was skeptical, and Alice was... Alice, the shopkeep took Glaucon by pleasant surprise with his immediate recognition and respect. He returned the greeting with a soft smile and a bow of his own before introducing himself.

"An honor to know someone who finds joy and prosperity amongst the gods. It serves us, as we strive to serve you. I am Glaucon of Judgment, the Verdict of Midas. My companion here is new to the Pantheon, and my honored guest for today. If you have a personal favorite on your menu, then that would suit us both."

He breathed a small sigh of relief as he was finally able to sit down, and propped his cane next to him. It felt like he had been walking around for days, even though it had only been a few hours at most. Exalla's small surprise, and moment of cognitive dissonance that came with it, was almost nearly missed until she spoke and brought his gaze back to attention.

Glaucon arched a brow as well, and for a moment the two faces were nearly mirror-images of each other. It was broken, though, when he gave a slow shake of his head. "I thought the honorifics of your kind could not apply to me... especially given my current physical condition," he pondered aloud. "You do not need to use them."

The Judge gave an approving nod at Exalla's interpretation. "Correct. There are intricacies to the act of trade, nuances that determine how much of one thing is worth how much of another. But such things are beyond my expertise, I admit." Those matters were left to dieties of trade and commerce, and most likely the extant Treasurer. Perhaps Jin Huang would be able to teach the Andalite more, granted he would be willing to spare the time and attention.

It was fair weather outside, with no need for any extra warmth to stay comfortable, but the steam rising up from the freshly-prepared soup and caressing Glaucon's face was a pleasant feeling regardless. The soup smelled fantastic. He fully planned to enjoy it at a liesurely pace, slowly taking in the flavor of each bite so he could give proper compliments to the chef -- and figured Exalla would be doing the same, especially given this was the first meal she had ever consumed with a mouth. And as he lifted his spoon up from the broth, delicately blowing the excess heat off the first bite, he had absolutely no idea how utterly wrong he was.

His eyed darted to the side at her initial complaint, but he quickly returned his attention to his own meal, confident she would figure it out.

Then the noise to his side continued. But it was not more complaining, not at all. Instead, it was... chaos.

Pure, unequivocal, uncivilized chaos.

Something about tasting food had turned Exalla into a complete lunatic. Glaucon watched, with a baffled expression identical to that of the other customer and the shopkeep, as the Andalite-turned-human slurped away at her first bites of soup like a starved animal. Broth was splashing everywhere, still releasing steam wherever it landed. And then... and then the spoon was abandoned completely. So she could use her face instead. The lofty, civilized Andalite was trying to eat like a dog!

When she finally paused to take a breath, there was broth all over the place. It was on the table. It was on the ground. It was on her shirt. It was in her hair.

Glaucon was not expecting this at all. An individual with an honor-obsessed personality like Exalla's should have been able to handle this with more... politeness.

"Please pardon my companion," he finally began, slowly, after a good second or three more of staring. "Where he is from they did not have much in the way of real food... or silverware... or table manners." The disbelief in his tone gave way to exasperation that intensified with each word he spoke.