revivalproject | ( open ) arrival

Entry tags:

( open ) arrival

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!))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Garak looks up at the voice. He'd heard someone approaching so he doesn't startle much when he sees them, and he lifts his eyebrows, lips pursed thinly. ]

Unusual, indeed. But most Earth music is rather odd by my standards. And, perhaps, by yours as well.

[ There's a bit of a frown there. Garak's not as quick to agree with the latter, but not because he thinks otherwise-- he just likes being contrary sometimes. ]

That, I wouldn't know about. I think it takes a different sort of... taste to appreciate it.

I've never heard of a place merely called Earth- so I suppose that would make it strange by my standards, yes.

[Curious though. Altair's always been drawn to unusual things, new things, to things he wishes to know more about, to any opportunity to learn. His curiosity has always been with him, though the freedom to indulge in it is something of a more recent development.]

May I? [He gestures into the room- not about to just invite himself in. He values privacy himself, and the stranger may very well wish to be left alone. An open door is not always an invitation, after all.]

Is that so? Where are you from, then, if you don't mind me asking?

[ It's entirely possible that he's not from the same universe as him. In fact, it's very likely. Or if he is, he'd be from a very distant section of the universe. ]

Of course. [ Garak gestures inside. Aside from the little nest of blankets and covers in the darker corner of the room, there's not much else decorating it yet. An old and torn piece of fabric hangs precariously over the window, shielding the room from the light outside, and there's a cracked vase where a few flowers have been placed. PADD still in hand, he touches the screen and lowers the volume so that they can speak over the music. ]

Little bit here, little bit there, really.

[He steps inside the room, finding himself a spot to sit down in- by the wall, not entirely too far away from the door. His posture relatively relaxed, despite having sat down in a spot where he can easily bolt if he deems it necessary.]

Officially I suppose I should be saying a planet called Dromund Kaas.

[He should. But he's not going to.] How about you? You know, if you don't mind me asking?

[ Garak's smile grows just a hint. What a delightfully cryptic answer. On the one hand, he wants to know even more where the stranger comes from, but on the other he can genuinely appreciate the ambiguity of that answer. ]

Then I suppose I should be saying a space station called Deep Space Nine.

[ No need to mention his home world, or the Defiant for that matter. DS9 is vague and close enough. ]

I am Garak. A tailor on that station. [ He bows his head slightly in greeting. ]

Never heard of it. I suppose we must be from different worlds all together.

[Curiosities, curiosities. But he won't pry- Altair values information, finding it to be the most valuable resource of all, but he imagines he'll be here for a while, and his immediate priority is information about this world, not any other. Of course, his curiosity still sees him staying rather than going elsewhere.]

A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Garak.

[Seated as he is, he still puts a hand to his chest and gives a bow of his head. Formal. Practiced.] You may call me Kallig.

Most likely, yes. It has been the case with most of the people I've met.

[ His smile widens, and he tilts his head. ] A pleasure as well, Kallig. So tell me, what sort of music do you have in your world?

Only most? I suppose you're luckier than me, then.

[Having allies would be preferable. Any of his crew, a limited number among his fellow Councilors, or anyone connected to the Empire, really. Hell, he'd even welcome the presence of a Jedi, or an individual or two from the Republic.

Of course, it does run the risk of it being an enemy or someone with more aggression that brains, but even they could be of some use.

He decides to not ask what it is in the other man's case. None of his business, anyway.]

Louder. Not so much meant to be enjoyed, as meant to drown out any chatter in a cantina.

[He shrugs.] That's been the case with most of the music not created for a certain purpose I've heard, at least.

There are two other people here who have come from the same place as I, even if slightly different times. We're still close enough for the gap to be practically negligible.

[ 'Practically' being an important word here, because it's always complicated to have to remind himself to keep so much information to himself. Granted, that's something he's more than used to, but this is information he never had to bother to hide before. ]

Ah. Yes, Humans too have that kind of music. [ His nose wrinkles in clear distaste. ] I suppose in comparison this is quite lovely, however I vastly prefer opera so far as Human music is concerned.

I see. I suppose it offers an amount of security either way.

[Of course, not everyone dislikes being around strangers quite as much as he does. He's perfectly capable of dealing with people he doesn't know in an official capacity, he sort of had to get used to that by becoming Sith, and especially upon joining the Council. After all, there was much for him to manage, both within his own power base in the Sith Order, and within his own branch in the military.

Dealing with strangers as equals though? That's much more difficult.

Especially trusting that none of them will stab him in the back.

Of course, still, here he is anyway- speaking to a stranger because he heard music.]

... Opera. You know, I think I was invited to an opera once. Didn't go though. Any Sith production is bound to be a lot of murder and mayhem.

[And that he sees enough on a daily basis.]

But beyond what can be found in a cantina, military marches during parades. So many damned military marches. So yes, in comparison, this is indeed quite lovely.

That it does. Something to appreciate when we are in such a hostile environment.

[ Things seem peaceful enough for now, but who's to say that will remain so? Especially with those storms that they learned of from the orb, it seems like it's only a matter of time before this quiet and peace is no more. ]

Ah! [ He lets out a soft chuckle, tipping his head up slightly. ] That does remind me of Klingon operas. Cardassian performances often are an ode to the glory of the State and the value of family, we aren't quite as... murderous in our stories.

[ Which isn't to say that's not the case in reality, but anyway. ]

I suspect you won't find yourself overwhelmed with many military marches around here. Small mercies, I suppose.

[He would add that the audience might be just as full of murder and mayhem as the production itself, but it doesn't seem like a point that needs to be added. After all, he doesn't want to give the wrong impression about the place he's from.

Instead he smiles slightly at the lack of military marches being a small mercy, nodding his head.] Small mercies, indeed.

[He gives a small shrug of the shoulder.] Such is the life of individuals from militaristic cultures, though. Couldn't invest in earplugs, either.

[Still, he supposes there might have been more types of music out there. All cultures had their art, after all, so surely, all cultures must also have their music.] Perhaps pleasant music like this also did exist though, and I merely wasn't in a place where I got to hear any of it.

[ Garak hums, then lets out a chuckle. ] Such are the times that I am grateful for Cardassian's less acute hearing.

[ Not that it does him much good in extreme cases, nor does it stop him from complaining nevertheless. It's in his nature to complain, after all. ]

Now you are. How curious that we should have to come so far for it.

Curious indeed. Still, I would take a million military marches, to be back with my people, I think.

[The music is a nice distraction. It sounds lovely, and hearing it has done wonders for his nerves. Still he longs for a way to return home, to go back to the Empire.]

But I'm certain that most here are of that same opinion.

[Maybe not all of them. But most, certainly.]

Oddly, I miss Dromund Kaas with all its rain and lightning storms and deadly predators stalking both wilds and city streets alike.

[He should say it's officially where he's from- but that's not really the truth. Still, it had been where he spent most of his time.]

... Do you have any other earth music?

[Music is a much nicer topic, after all.]

[ After a careful pause, Garak simply offers a noncommittal hum. Home is, as it always has been, a sore subject for him. He misses Cardassia horribly, but at times he doesn't know what he would even do with himself if he did go back. Yearning to be with his people seems like a moot point when so many of them see him as an exile and a traitor.

And the station is... well, not exactly a peaceful place, at the moment. The closest he's had to a home in the last several years, and he can't even go back to that, either. ]

That sounds rather unpleasant. Luckily I've never lived in a place plagued with such storms.

[ He nods, lifting the PADD again. ]

There's an extensive selection. Not everything is as pleasant on the ear... ah.

[ He starts playing another song, pressing his lips thoughtfully. ]

That's not so terrible either.

Oh, it was awful. Always raining, almost never a moment without lightning flashing across the sky and the rumble of thunder. Sometimes so close and so loud it sounded like the very planet was being pulled apart at the seams.

[And yet there is a certain fondness to his tone.] Still with the military marches, though, regardless of the weather. Had it not been for the lightning spires I'm certain we'd have to scrape the charred remains of half our army up off the pavement.

[There's a touch of laughter in his tone, faint, but definitely there. It's not that it's funny, really. It's just. Home. One of his homes, anyway.

He had said that it was the official answer. And it was. Still, there is a certain fondness, even if he never felt completely at ease there. Even if his true home was somewhere else, entirely.

He falls quiet again, listening to the music.] It's not. Unusual, but certainly far from terrible.

[ Garak knits his brow, slightly puzzled by that mental image. ]

It seems rather counterproductive, to waste away an army like that even before it heads into war.

[ Well, that is what armies are for, after all. And it's also why Starfleet is so adamant about not referring to themselves as a military force in the strictest sense of the word. ]

I think you and I both might find all the Earth music I have here to be unusual. [ He smiles. ] I have some things of Cardassian source, however, should you ever find yourself curious about it.

There were only two things the humans of the Sith Empire liked, I'm afraid- Having power, and showing it off. And with functional lightning spires...

[He shrugs his shoulders.

With the spires, most of the danger had been pulled away, after all, so there was little there to discourage shows of military force on the home world.

Altair supposes he gets it- after all, what better way to show the civilians that they are the true power in the galaxy, than marches and parades and celebration of Imperial culture. He decides to switch his focus elsewhere- coming to feel homesick so quickly may come to wreak havoc on his nerves.]

And I'd love to. There is little more interesting than sharing of culture.

[There are things he finds more interesting, but that's sort of limited to his home. Can't go digging through tombs for lost history here, after all.]

[ Garak hums, with a slow, thoughtful nod. Humans do seem to enjoy showing off, or at least some do. He can't really talk much, though. As much as he knows how to blend in and go by unnoticed (it was a fundamental skill in his previous line of work, even), he does too like to show off at times, at least to certain people. ]

Oh, wonderful. I'll find some music for you, then. A book, perhaps? I have a few classics of Cardassian literature with me, and I'd love to hear your thoughts on them.

[ Even if they're mostly criticisms. In fact Garak may enjoy that even more, there's little else he likes more than having debate partners who will challenge him and exercise his mind. ]

If it is a book with an audio recording, then I'd certainly be interested. I don't think you'd much enjoy reading it aloud for me.

[He reaches to tap the veil he wears.

He's not actually blind, but wearing it, keeping his eyes hidden, it's habit by now. Hiding his eyes from view to pass himself off as a different species than what he is is its true purpose, but he's also familiar enough with other species to know that they tend to find Chiss eyes to be eerie.

Other people have security blankets, Altair supposes, while he's got what amounts to a fancy security blindfold.]

I'm sure that you've surmised that I can see under here, but I have my reasons for keeping my eyes covered.

Ah, but these little devices are quite useful, and have all sorts of capabilities. They can translate the text into an audio recording for you. So you needn't worry about that.

[ Even if Altair couldn't see under that, Garak wouldn't linger long on the thought. Each species is different in that regard. Some can't see, others can't hear, a few don't even speak. It may be for cultural reasons in this particular case, but the point still stands. ]

Certainly. I won't pry, of course. I am hardly ever the kind to poke around where it isn't my business.

[ Yeah, right. ]

Handy indeed.

[They have similar things where he's from, of course. But all tech is not the same, so he thought it best to ask.]

Are you not? [He seems slightly amused.] In my experience people who say that tend to be the most curious of all.

[That sounds like speaking from experience. It's definitely speaking from experience, if his smile is anything to go by. He's like that himself, having gotten used to sticking his nose where it has no business being.]

Is that so?

[ Garak manages to sound thoroughly impressed by that conclusion, as though he hadn't heard that accusation dozens of times in the past. ]

Well, I wouldn't know. I always find that people who are too curious give themselves away so easily. Many of them don't even bother to hide their curiosity, and why bother? They don't know how to... sneak around properly. At least they're honest, which is a trait many see as an invaluable quality.

I do adore the honest ones, I admit.

[Despite the jovial tone, his words sound genuine.

He'll take the painfully honest over the bold-faced liars any day. Of course it's hardly relevant here- curiosity is only curiosity, he imagines, and not in fact a wind-up to a stab in the back.

At the very least he hasn't sensed a fellow Sith or even a Jedi around.]

You're the sneaky type, then?

[Also not unfamiliar. He is Sith. He was also trained as an assassin, in the Sith Academy. Both of those make the ability to sneak necessary.]

Yes, they are quite entertaining in their own way.

[ So much easier to read, and so quickly giving themselves away when they try to lie. It's all the more amusing when they think they're good at lying, too. ]

Who, me?

[ He lifts his brow, shoulders raising in a careful, innocent shrug. ]

Why, I didn't claim to be one way or the other. Does it truly matter that you know?

( open ) arrival

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