( open ) arrival

[tailorspy]

Who: Garak and YOU!
What: Arrival and exploring the city
When: First few days after his arrival
Where: Some random abandoned buildings and shops, the hotel
Warnings: None expected


I ▹ INFORMATION

[ One thing Garak has learned can be more valuable than virtually anything is information. The bright orb waiting for him upon arrival was useful, but incredibly lacking in many aspects, and Garak finds himself needing more to know what he's dealing with.

Yes, he realizes that a dying species likely had other things to worry about than just how much information they left readily available for others to come, but that doesn't mean some isn't laying around somewhere. He takes to exploring each and every building, pushing through the overgrown plants to step inside, climbing up stairs where he can manage, poking his head into different rooms as he passes them.

He'll approach any computer screen he finds, and he'll promptly open the nearest control panel to try and see what the circuitry looks like, and if there's any chance to get power running through it again. When that fails, he heads back outside and walks towards the outskirts of the city, trying to find whatever path the power might have once followed, hoping to find some sort of energy central.

The same goes for the plumbing system. At least plenty of people seem invested in getting power back up again, but Garak has a feeling they will all be in dire need of a decent bath sooner or later, and things will get rather unbearable if they don't get the plumbing working again.

If he finds anyone else exploring anywhere he happens to go, he'll smile at them, tilting his head all too politely. ] Greetings. May I ask what you're looking for? Perhaps it's the same as I, and we can help each other.

II ▹ CULTURE

[ Garak has found himself a place to sleep in at the rundown hotel. It's far from perfect, and he fully plans on finding something better eventually, but for the moment it has a door, a mostly intact window, and a whole ceiling. The bathroom has a tub that could be filled with water for a bath if need be, and having pushed the bed frame aside, Garak has gathered a few old blankets and sheets to serve as a small bed by a darker, warmer corner of the room.

He's not sleeping currently, however. Door open, he's sitting on those blankets, legs crossed, hunched over what looks like some kind of electronic device in his hands. He runs his fingers over the screen with a frown on his face, tapping and clicking like he's looking for something...

And then music just starts playing. Garak groans, eyes practically rolling back on his head. ] Oh, useless.

((ooc: Garak is new and can be found pretty much all over town, wherever you'd like to run into him I'm game! Feel free to write your own adventure, or friend/ping me @ extreminator if you'd like to plan something out!))

Comments

[tailorspy]

[ Garak waits until the stranger turns to look at him, then he's all smiles, canting his head in something close to a greeting. His eyes drift immediately to what the stranger is working on, but he doesn't ask about it for now, even if his interest is evidently piqued. ]

Certainly, my dear. We are all attempting to accomplish something here, are we not? Namely, trying to make life here a little more tolerable. I've learned that at times combining our efforts will take us much further than doing things on our own.

[pileofspirits]

[the heads of pins stand out as a colorful line of dots against the pale rags of their sleeve, where they're stabbed in and waiting in a nice little row. the whole project is temporarily forgotten though, as this stranger completely distracts the being's attention. it takes them a moment, but they match his smile.]

Are we... not? Are we not? [they like the phrase, their smile quirking a little.] Our efforts are always combined. Right here. Already.

[tailorspy]

[ Garak's smile widens. He does so appreciate it when people seem friendly. Granted, he enjoys a good argument as much as the next Cardassian, but this is an easier, more traditional way of making allies. Something that can only be beneficial in a place like this. ]

Ah, but not always. Sometimes people turn against one another for a multitude of reasons. Given our current predicament, I can only imagine petty reasons for anyone to refuse to work together, but pettiness is unfortunately a common ailment in many a universe out there.

[ Elim Garak, you so can't talk about being petty, but anyway. ]

What is that you're working on?

[pileofspirits]

[their smile fades for a moment while they blink and appear a little lost. it takes them a pronounced few seconds to look down and seemingly figure out what the man might be asking about, and while they do, they mumble aimlessly under their breath.]

Petty.. Pretty. Pretty petty...

[ah, and then something clicks and they're all caught up again. with hideously dirt-stained fingers, they pick up their sewing project and hold it proudly in front of themself: just two mismatched pieces of fabric stitched neatly along one edge, with the needle now dangling precariously from the strand of thread they'd been using.]

Sewing. It's for us.

[tailorspy]

[ Garak watches quietly. Perhaps his new friend has difficulty understanding complex speech, for whatever reason. There are all sorts of life forms in the multiple universes out there, some of which might not even communicate verbally... maybe he should stick to shorter, simpler sentences, just in case. It will prove to be a challenge for someone like Garak, but he can manage, surely. ]

Ah! That's very good. [ Lacking in taste, but that's something one can forego while stuck here. They have to make do with what they find, and the stitching is incredibly precise and neat. Garak appreciates that. ] For your cloak? Or is it something else?

[pileofspirits]

For wrapping. Probably.

[putting their project down again, they flex one hand to demonstrate. pieces of fabric (including quite a few medical bandages salvaged from the ruins of the infirmary building nearby) blend their cloak of rags right into wrapping directly around their limbs. just a whole mess of layers tied and sewn and tucked together, wrapping them up nearly to their fingers.]

[tailorspy]

I see. [ He nods, lifting a hand of his own. ] May I have a look?

[ It's unclear whether he means their project or their hand, and he doesn't bother clarifying either. ] I am a tailor, you see. I rather fancy all sorts of sewing projects, even simple ones. And I am curious as to where you found the supplies.

[pileofspirits]

[it's probably because the other man lifts his hand that Phalanx opts for lifting their own, aimlessly holding it up for whatever he might want it for.

but then the man continues, and Phalanx's attention is immediately pulled back up. their irises are flat black, eating up all the light that should be reflected back as they stare at him, almost seeming hungry about it.]

Tailor you see--you sew? Sewing?

[tailorspy]

[ Garak takes the offered hand carefully, inspecting the gauze and admiring the pale fingers they're wrapped around. Never one to shy away from physical contact, actually he actively seeks it, especially when he knows it can throw people off.

He doesn't think it'll happen with this stranger, but it's nonetheless a gesture he's accustomed with. Reaching out, learning by touch. ]

That's right, yes. I used to have a little shop, before coming here. I designed and created tailored pieces, like suits, dresses, coats.

[pileofspirits]

[aside from the dirty stains on their fingers, black under the edges of their nails, they have lovely hands. long bones, nice and dexterous. and once Garak has their hand, it's all dead weight, like they've entirely forgotten it. he can keep it if he wants.

the entirety of their attention is still set on his face.]

A little shop? Before... where? Your home? A little village? Is it far away?

[tailorspy]

[ It is a lovely hand, though it does look quite frail. Then again, many a humanoid species looks frail to him, thin skins stretched over only a few muscles and sometimes not even a decent amount of fat. The skin also feels a little colder to the touch, and Garak brushes a thumb over their knuckles, eventually settling down to look at their face, though without letting the hand go. ]

Not my home, no. A space station, very far away from here. [ A pause, then he adds with a small smile. ] Well, I suppose you could call it my home. I've lived there for a long time, now.

[pileofspirits]

[the hand is just as forgotten as the sewing project left in their lap, needle still dangling off the thread. they're busy thinking. it's an obvious process--blinking, looking off to the side.

and when they look back, their eyes have changed. without warning, they are now a normal, average human blue.]

No... it was a village. A very... village. And the shop was-- [they trail off then, looking briefly frustrated when they don't finish their own sentence.]

[tailorspy]

[ Garak's brow raises. It's not easy to shock him, but somehow his new friend manages, with something so simple as a change in their eyes. The only being he can think of that would be capable of that is Odo, but this stranger looks nothing like a shapeshifter.

Then again, they could look like anything. For all he knows, they're a shapeshifter too, just with better developed mimicking abilities. ]

The shop was... your shop, then? Is that what you mean?

[pileofspirits]

Is that what you mean...?

[they sound like they're repeating the question more to themself than anything, brow furrowing in confusion and gaze sliding away again in thought.

they're trying to remember, and they're trying to keep the line of conversation straight in their head. they're trying very hard.]

[tailorspy]

[ He tilts his head. Well, it looks like he's just confused his new friend. Carefully he releases his hand, righting himself as he gives them a few seconds, in hopes they'll manage to resume their line of thought. ]

It is not important, my dear. Tell me, do you have a name?

[pileofspirits]

[they might not solve whatever they'd been working out in their head or recover where they'd left off in the conversation, but they do recover quickly. they take their hand back and accept the new question as if the previous confusion had never happened. the only change is them still wearing their new blue eyes.]

They called us Phalanx. Don't know if it's a name...?

[tailorspy]

It will suffice, unless you want to be called something else.

[ Odd little thing, they are. Garak can't quite figure out whether they refer to themselves in the plural because they're an amalgam of identities and life forms, or simply because their grammar doesn't translate quite so linearly. Either way, Garak supposes it's not so important for now. ]

My name is Garak.

[pileofspirits]

We want to be called.

[this one is stated with confidence. they may often sound unsure, like they recognize how little sense they make as they speak, but they sound certain that this sentence is correct.]

Garak. [glancing around, they run the word through their mind, trying it out, enjoying the sound of it.] Garak. Garish.

[tailorspy]

Good, then! Phalanx it is.

[ It's a name like any other, after all. Not one he's ever heard before, but then he has thought that about many a Human name.

The last word has Garak's expression opening in surprise, then unusually so, he lets out a laugh, though short and quiet. He grins, a little wider than his smile. ]

Well, yes, I suppose many would use that word to define me.

[pileofspirits]

[whether it's intentional or only reflexive, Phalanx does a fantastic job of mirroring Garak's grin.]

Many. One hundred sixty-four.

[tailorspy]

[ Garak chuckles again, seemingly delighted by this. ]

Oh, you can't possibly know the exact number! But how flattering that you think so many would even keep me in their minds.

[pileofspirits]

[Phalanx easily echoes his chuckling! the delight reflects back and forth in a wonderful little feedback loop between the two of them.]

Of course we know! We can count.

[tailorspy]

[ Oh, how endearing is that chuckle, Garak is positively tickled pink by his new friend. ]

Certainly you can, my dear. I didn't mean to imply otherwise.

[pileofspirits]

[first the blue eyes... then, as they're sitting there, delighted with the conversation, little waves begin to form in their hair. starting with the ends, the strands that are visible from under their hood begin to look a little more blonde, a little more lively than the entirely slack, pale hair they'd had up until this point.]

Didn't mean to... mean. So mean.

[tailorspy]

You weren't mean. You needn't worry, it takes quite a lot to offend me.

[ Unless it's Dukat, in which case his mere presence will suffice. Phalanx is far more pleasing to have around, however, regardless of how strange they are. ]

Your appearance. Does it change often?