(no subject)

[parricida]

Who: Elim Garak and YOU
Broadcast: Network wide at first; to the Red Fish ship afterwards
Action: In his room
When: December 28th

[A wholly pleasant smile appears on the network. While the face it's attached to is . . . reptilian, to say the least, at least the smile is friendly. Prominent ridges outline Garak's cheekbones and where a human's eyebrows would be; his black hair is neatly combed back from his face.]

I wonder . . . while the planet below is quite charming, I find myself rather disliking the temperature. And while I can amuse myself with embroidery, I find myself wanting nothing more than a good book. Do any of you have recommendations? I'm somewhat familiar with Terran literature; a friend of mine even says I have a favorite genre: realistic fiction, if that's any help.

My sincerest gratitude to any who might help.

[A beat. He cuts off the feed and adds to the members of the Red Fish:]

Coil. Might I ask you to stop by when you've a spare moment?

Comments

video; 1/2

[parricida]

Oh dear indeed. Fortunately for our good tailor, he wasn't killed-- merely knocked out. When he awoke, it was in the tent of the khavichka'n-- and one in particular was watching him, waiting for him to wake.

Nurak had gotten his wish: he had now seen his first khavichka'i. Within moments, he knew he was in love, for the khavichka'i was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen-- unlike anyone or anything he had ever witnessed before. Immediately he knew he had to be with the khavichka'i; he would rather die than go home alone.

When Nurak's captor saw he was awake, he called to his fellows-- each of them more beautiful than the last, but Nurak had only eyes for his first guard. After some chatter he could not understand, his khavichka'i asked him in Kardasi: "What is your name?"

"Nurak." And then, feeling bold, he added: "What's yours?"

"Aterareanhui," the creature replied, and Nurak found himself pleased, for the creature's name was as strange and beautiful as its form. "Why have you come to our camp?"

It was in his best interest to lie, but Nurak was admittedly unusual, and so said: "I wished to see what you looked like. I have heard stories of your grace and beauty, and I wished to see if it were true."

This caused quite a stir. The other three began talking among themselves, but Aterareanhui only stared at Nurak. Finally, after a long time, the oldest one barked an order, and they left. Aterareanhui pointed his spear at Nurak, who stared back, unflinching. He was a Cardassian, and though he did not want to die, if it was to be his fate, he would face it unflinching.

But to his surprise, Aterareanhui did not kill him. Instead, he tore his bonds and got him to his feet. Quickly, Aterareanhui lead him to the edge of the camp, until Nurak found himself in the desert once more.

"You are free," Aterareanhui told him briskly, and Nurak began to panic. He did not want to be free, not without Aterareanhui-- and yet the creature gave him no choice.

"Thank you," Nurak said, and then, thinking quickly, added: "But I must repay you. I must give you a present."

"There is no need," Aterareanhui said doubtfully, but Nurak shook his head.

"I am a tailor," he replied. "Let me sew you the finest shirt you've ever known, out of the strongest, lightest material. I'll return in a moon cycle."

"We will be gone by then," Aterareanhui replied, and Nurak hissed in shock, as if he had not known it was so.

"Then come to my home," he proposed, "and I will give you your gift." To his glee, Aterareanhui eventually nodded.