revivalproject | ( closed ) cohort mingle

Entry tags:

( closed ) cohort mingle

WHO: Steve Rogers, Julian Bashir, Elim Garak, Vision, Rayla
WHERE: their (so far unnamed) ship
WHAT: panicking, surviving, exploring, socializing, a bit more panicking, etc. Whatever you want!
WHEN: October 8th - 21st (all 330 hours of their lockdown)
WARNINGS: none at the moment - please tag your threads if need be!

This is an open post for face-to-face interactions between the cohorts within this same ship, so please go ahead and post your own top-levels and tag around!

For reference, the list of cohorts and their respective augments is as follows:

Steve Rogers: medic
Julian Bashir: medic
Elim Garak: agriculture
Vision: agriculture
Rayla: none

Go forth and have fun!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The snap doesn't appear to take him aback as much as it does. Irritability, likely secondary to his anxiety. He hasn't seen Garak like that in a while. A couple of years at least. It's okay though. It comes with the territory. Right now, Garak is a patient and he must forgive some emotional lability.

"Whatever you're referring to, no I don't remember. No need to apologize," he reassures. He realizes that maybe kneeling in front of the other isn't the best way to make him feel less claustrophobic and so kneels at his side instead.

The problem is, claustrophobia is not something that can be fixed with a medicine. A calming medicine might help the symptoms, but Julian's looked all over the ship--there isn't even a sickbay let alone proper medical equipment or pharmaceuticals.

"What can I do to help?" he asks, keeping his frustration at his inability to offer much of anything bottled up.

He is thankful, but not surprised, that Julian doesn't ask about it. Of course, the exceptional doctor that he is, he knows better than to hound a patient with questions while they're having any kind of attack, even if a merely psychological one. With some physical reactions, granted, but nothing that will kill him.

"Unless you have anything that can put me to sleep, I'm afraid there isn't much you can do," he breathes, pondering for a moment. "I don't suppose there's a place here with windows?"

Being able to look outside would certainly help.

He frowns further as he shakes his head.

"Unfortunately, there aren't any. I've looked around most of the ship." He doesn't want to freak Garak out (and goodness, is it jarring seeing him like this), but he also doesn't want to lie to his friend either. Especially with something this important.

"Take a few deep breaths." All he can offer is guided visualization at this point and he doesn't think Garak will be thrilled with the prospect. Not to mention, he's not thrilled with the idea of sedatives when it comes to his former-addict friend, not that he's seen any.

Garak lets out a faint sound, a frown crossing his face briefly. Oh, that's just wonderful news, isn't it? Stuck in a minuscule space without even an outside view to calm him down.

"I have dealt with this before, you realize," he says, a little impatient, but doing as told nevertheless. He inhales slowly, exhales deeply. Closes his eyes as if that will help him forget where he is. If only he could.

He would gladly take that sedative and sleep his way through this nightmare, if only he had that option.

"Is the ship taking off?" He doubts Julian will know much, but he needs to ask. He needs anything at all to distract him.

"I'm sure you have, but clearly however you dealt with this before isn't working now," he tries to reply with minimal tartness. He knows how Garak can get with his physical health--he doesn't even want to think about what kind of backwards logic Cardassians have regarding mental health.

Julian sits down properly, crossing his legs. He's not sure how long he will be here but he will stay as long as he's needed.

Not to mention he can feel any subtle vibrations if there are any to be felt. "No. As far as I can tell, the ship isn't running at all except for internal functions like life support and electricity. Have you been able to look around the ship at all?" Perhaps that will help, seeing more rooms behind the paneling, more space.

"It might," he counters, voice quiet. "It takes time. I need to calm myself, is all."

It would help if he knew where they're going, if they're even going anywhere, or when the doors will open again. Being in this state of suspense and ignorance only makes it worse.

"Not at all, I'm afraid. I just, ah... spared it a passing glance as I made my way to the cargo hold in hopes of," he pauses, glancing at Julian, panic in his eyes. He reaches out to grab Julian's hand, seeking any source of comfort he can find. "Of finding my way out."

Clearly that's not happening, at least not anytime soon.

Surprised, Julian’s face softens as he takes hold of Garak’s hand, absently stroking the back of it soothingly.

“It’s alright,” he murmurs. “There’s a few rooms you haven’t seen yet. When you’re up for it, we can look around.”

He’s never seen Garak look this terrified. His friend has always kept his emotions carefully controlled behind his mild-mannered mask. He’d like to comfort to where Garak is back to himself, but he isn’t sure how much knowing about the other rooms will help—especially when there’s no idea of how long they will be stuck in here.

The contact helps immensely, perhaps more than Julian can imagine. The doctor may not have the same memories as he does, but having Julian nearby has helped him during a crisis before, and it's no different now.

"Let's go now," he urges, forcing himself to focus on the here and now. "Staying here, doing nothing... it will only make things worse. Let's walk, go elsewhere."

It does seem to be helping more than when Garak was suffering withdrawal from the wire. At least he feels like he's doing something.

"Of course."

He is surprised at how quickly Garak changes tactics, and seems nearly frantic to get up and start looking around. Julian stands up, never letting go of Garak's hand. He will assist with helping him up if Garak will allow him.

If he's moving, at least he's not thinking. Maybe, who knows, the other rooms will look more like actual rooms and less like a prison he can't escape.

He moves his hand to Julian's forearm, holding it lightly while he follows the doctor through the rest of the ship, focusing on his breathing. One in, two out, his gaze fixed on the floor rather than the low ceilings or the narrow walls of the corridors.

Julian leads them down the hall towards where he thinks the kitchenesque area is. It's not very big but it's certainly bigger than the hallways.

"Sadly no replicators," he comments softly. Yes there's tea but it isn't his Tarkalean tea, extra sweet.

They reach the dining area, and that is what truly grabs Garak's attention. He looks around for a while, noting the lack of replicators, then he approaches the counter and cupboards, going through them briefly... only to realize something.

"There is no food, either," he says finally, then shows Julian the nutrition gels with a flat stare.

Well, if they were looking for something to distract Garak, this will probably do it for now.

"It seems as though our current predicament is..." He sighs. "Even worse than I thought."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( closed ) cohort mingle

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject