revivalproject

WHO: Phalanx and You
WHERE: Literally anywhere
WHAT: Exploring and sewing and trying to remember
WHEN: Early October
WARNINGS: I'll add things if they come up!

→ things

Sitting somewhere around the fountain or the Hotel (they keep drifting to new places as the whim strikes them) is Phalanx and the little project they're working on. After several weeks spent in this world, their cloak of rags now has a few new pieces stitched and tied into the mess, with cloth now wrapping all the way down to their knuckles and bundled up around the lower half of their face like a cozy scarf. It's a small wonder how they're even able to work on the delicate craft settled in their lap, with the small window between the scarf layers and the hood of their cloak to peer out of, and how only the tips of their fingers are free from wrappings to work the needle and thread.

A first glance at their project shows what seems like nonsensical letters and design elements being embroidered onto a random scrap of cloth... but if you really get a good look at it, it's clear that the fabric probably came from one of the new ships (goodbye, someone's bed-sheet), the embroidery is actually meticulous cross-stitching, and the design itself is the word "THINGS" over and over, garbled up where their attention wandered or somehow got scrambled along the way, leading to the lines of letters trailing off in random directions, running into other letters, turning into pretty squares halfway through, etc.

Phalanx doesn't seem to notice the world around them as they're completely absorbed in playing with their beloved gift from the Agrii.

→ ships

Having already spent so much time exploring as much of the nooks and crannies of this city as they could manage, the appearance of the grounded ships was a gift all in itself. With childlike excitement, the spirits visit each new place to touch and learn and listen to.

They will be exploring every ship in random rounds at any time of day or night. Sneaking on-board and thoughtfully wandering from one end to the other, lying quietly in every bed, standing and looking at nothing in the galley, they eagerly experience the spaces like a ghost that doesn't realize it can be seen.

→ borrowing

When they're not stitching or sneaking through ships, Phalanx's wandering continues through the city as usual. They go wherever a human body can, squeezing into tight spaces and delving into dark places just as often as they seek out the fun, lively places where other people like to gather.

And while they're traveling, they tend to... just pick things up as they go. Usually they take little things that sparkle or click or make sounds when you crumple them up in your hand, but almost anything is fair game. They just wander by and things end up in their hands or tucked into the labyrinthine layers of their cloak and they don't seem to notice a problem with it. Their grubby little hands just sneak out and take things and it's just a thing that happens. It's not their fault that's how the world works.

(feel free to make up starters if you'd like! also feel free to friend or message me at

redpyre for anything. finally, please check out Phalanx's opt-in for ghost powers at the bottom of their permissions post in case those might come into play!)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Oh, no. Not fights, just intelligent discussion. There's no need to be quite so dramatic about it," he smiles over his shoulder, looking away again as he adds.

"Family too is very important for Cardassians. Our duty to the State is only surpassed by our love and dedication to our families. Or so it should be for all Cardassians, of course," he hums. Garak, as it stands, doesn't have much of a family.

With their head now resting on the table, they turn so they can watch Garak as he cooks.

"We're families. And pieces of families. New families and dead families..." They trail off and think to themselves for a moment, their hair growing a little longer and starting to darken in the meantime. Their skin begins to gain a little color to match.

"...Are you? In or of?"

"Yes. Many, many families," he hums, stirring the vegetables. The ones he picked for today all cook rather quickly, so it's not long before he's turning off the heat and serving the vegetables onto two different bowls.

"Ah, I... have no family, not anymore," he smiles as he turns around and brings both bowls to the table. He settles the bright yellow bowl in front of Phalanx, then hands out a fork for them. "Do you know how to use this?"

Phalanx is humming over the various responses and questions forming in their head at Garak's answer, but the sudden appearance of a fork distracts them. They don't pick their head up off the table to look at the utensil properly until after they've already taken it and looked at it for a second or so. It takes time for everything to click.

"Yes, it..." They make a little stabbing motion with it in the air, and then immediately seem surprised by the fact. "Oh! Yes."

Fork now properly in hand, they straighten up a little more respectably (but only a little) in their seat and turn their attention to the meal waiting before them. Dirty fingers grab onto the lip of bowl so they can tip it one way, peering at the steaming vegetables, then tipping it precariously the other way so they can get a good look at that bright yellow color.

Garak hums a little chuckle, so very amused to see Phalanx figure out the fork, and sit up slightly straighter. It's effort that he genuinely appreciates, and he uses his own fork to take some vegetables into his mouth, humming happily at the taste.

"That's quite good," he decides, pleased with himself. He looks over to see Phalanx tipping the bowl back. He reaches it immediately and rights it again. "Don't do that, my dear, or the food will tip over the edge and you will make a mess. If you want, you can keep the bowl once you eat everything in it."

"Oh," they comment with interest. You learn something new every day.

They leave the bowl settled properly on the table then, and focus all of their wandering attention to the food inside of it. Using the fork as they should, they curiously stab at the bits of vegetables until they skewer a particularly appealing piece. This gets experimentally licked, and then bitten, but not actually eaten just yet. They're still exploring.

"Did you have a garden?"

Garak lets Phalanx explore the food at their leisure. There is no rush in any case, so they can take as much time as they need, although the food might get a little cold if they take too long with it.

"Before here? Oh no, that wasn't of interest to me. I had a shop that kept me quite busy, I hardly had time for more than that," he smiles. "But learning how to plant and grow vegetables has become very useful here."

"No garden. No family. But you can grow them here?"

Phalanx hardly seems to be paying attention to the conversation with how involved they are with exploring their food... but, given how they continue to string words together in ways that mostly make sense, some fragments of their mind must be invested in it.

"A garden? Yes, of course. Have you been to the greenhouse yet? I could show you the various plants I've been tending to."

Not all of them are vegetables, but either way he has a feeling that Phalanx will appreciate the more colorful flowers and vegetables most of all.

"A garden. A family. You don't have. But you can grow them--make them."

Either because they're trying to illustrate some point or because half of their mind is just having fun fidgeting and playing with their food, Phalanx reaches into the bowl to pick up one bright piece of vegetable and hold up between the two of them. Then they pop the bit of food into their mouth and eat it properly.

"Not a family, so much. A family you need to... find, I suppose."

And even then, it's not an easy task. Does Phalanx even understand the concept of a family? Perhaps, perhaps not. Garak, for one, has never had a proper family to speak of. Just a father that would lock him in his closet for whole nights as some form of training or punishment (or both), who wouldn't even allow him to call him 'father' once he was old enough. That hardly counts, now does it?

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