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Who: HANGE!!! GArak, Coil and Zhas
Broadcast: none
Action: closed to Red Fish crew
When: sometime... when they're in range of the planet... after whenever the waystation mingle goes up...?

[She'll take a look at the spa later - after slowly going a little stir-crazy on the ship, Hange wouldn't close herself in another building (no matter how luxurious) by choice.

Now, just as she's been, she prowls and paces along the edge of the forest, looking in. She looks excited: her eyes wide, pupils dilated, grinning absentmindedly. The movement never quite stops. The whoops and cries of distant birds or other, more alien things; the smell of wet ground and the rustle of leaves... it's like home, just like home, just like being at home, all she needs is her 3DMG and her horse and her squad. If only.

Hange will head in soon. She's seen that path and - it could be a trap, but her nature is way too direct to pass up so courteous an invitation. Soon enough...]

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What a terrible vice.

[Emerging from the ship, Garak locks his hands behind his back and stares out at the expanse of forest. He'd still prefer a desert, frankly, but it's better than all the snow and ice.]

But I suppose it's better than drink.

[oh look someone's opinion he doesn't care about. he continues to smoke, fixing Garak with an unfriendly side-eye. then again, everything he does looks unfriendly. so maybe it's neutral. it's hard to say.]

[That's all right. Garak could talk cheerfully to a corpse if he felt so inclined.]

Now, I knew a man once who would overindulge in drink. A great man, a fantastic general-- but still, quite hampered by his vice. Of course, we all have vices, but I suppose the point is to not allow yourself to be taken over by them.

Why smoking, might I ask? It's always smelled far too terrible for me to even begin trying it.

[to his credit, at least he doesn't ignore him... he seems to be paying attention to everything that he says, and glances away to give the question a moment of thought.

his answer, though, is also a short test--he signs the letters W-A-R-M, clearly.]

Oh, Zhas. You can do far better with a mug of hot chocolate.

[he smirks, a little, before shaking his head. he spells other things.

t-o-o-s-w-e-e-t.]

There's always coffee. I have a friend who's quite fond of it, in fact.

[HAH he's so smart. Actually, he missed some of it, Zhas moving too fast for him to follow-- but he can guess, given what few letters he got.]

[lucky for Garak, his response involves long words that he doesn't want to spell all the way out... so he doesn't bother. he drops the last of his cigarette on the ground, grinding it out with his boot.]

Already do.

Then I'm afraid I'm out of suggestions. Perhaps you're doomed to spoil your lungs.

[he shrugs. not something he really wants to think about or argue.]

Vampire hunter.

I had no idea that was a proper profession.

Not supposed to.

[...which was the biggest reason he wasn't very enthusiastic to share his skillset with the class earlier. it's good that Garak is following.]

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