[Open Moons Mingle Log]

[serpentis]

Who: Anyone and Everyone!
Broadcast: Maybe!
Action: Abeo, Accendo, Adsum
When: 2/3-2/7

[WELCOME TO THE MOONS ENJOY YOUR STAY DON'T GET ARRESTED.]

Comments

[parricida]

[Dear, dear. Garak tips his head, studying the young man, wondering why he was chosen to hear this. Quite possibly because it was boiling up in him, and Garak was the nearest receptacle.

Well. He's no counselor, but never let it be said he didn't listen.]

Then it sounds as if your kidnapping was done at a fortunate time, to bring you away from such a thing.

[treasureling]

I love my daughters.

[ He wants to go back, despite everything. It's his home.

He looks up to Garak. ]

I'm sorry. None of this is important to you.

[parricida]

[He offers a slight smile.]

That doesn't mean I mind listening-- though I can't promise any advice I give will be particularly helpful.

[treasureling]

I just feel foreign here. I don't belong. I want to go home, but I don't know if I belong there either. Not unless things start to change, and they won't.

[ He doesn't have the kind of personal power that would make that happen.

His fingers trace over the embossing, feeling for little flaws. ]

My name is Malak.

[parricida]

Elim Garak.

[His first name tastes foreign on his mouth, sweet and a little odd, and he's surprised to hear himself say it.]

How long have you been here?

[treasureling]

A week.

Just a week.

[parricida]

Ah, well. The first week is always roughest.

[A beat, and then, with a little smile:]

Now, before all this, I happened to find myself in another rather unpleasant situation. I can only imagine why I'm such a popular target for kidnapping; perhaps people simply want their own personal tailor for no money at all.

Regardless: I often found talking to my fellow captives to be the best remedy. It hardly mattered about what, so long as we talked. It helped to remind ourselves that things were hardly as hopeless as all that.

[treasureling]

[ Malak is listening. The rare kind of listening, where his focus is on what is being said, and not what he wants to say in reply.

So he's left groping for words after. ]

That sounds - true. [ He means it sounds like a real truth, it sounds like something he should do. ]

...though I hope I don't get kidnapped again. [ b l e h ]

[parricida]

Oh, I have a feeling this one might stick. We're entertainment, after all. We can't simply disappear on a dime.

[treasureling]

We can if we're not interesting.

[parricida]

My dear, please. We're only as uninteresting as we feel, hm?

[treasureling]

[ At these words, Malak has a flash of insight. Dubious insight, but it makes sense; he wonders, suddenly, if for Garak performance isn't submission to an outside purpose but another way to gather power. Have the audience in his thrall.

He sits up a little, chewing this over, brows knit. ]

[parricida]

[In return, he tips his head, one ridge raising slightly.]

Are you all right?

[treasureling]

Fine.

Just thinking.

It might not be the worst choice to accept being interesting, would it?

[parricida]

Far better to be interesting instead of boring-- especially here, hm?

[He tips his head again, a slight smile on his face.]

Besides, there's no harm in playing the game-- so long as you're aware of what you're doing.

[treasureling]

And you're aware. Obviously.

[parricida]

I'd like to think I am.

[He tips his head again.]

Would you prefer being angry all the time, rebelling pointlessly and being punished for it?

[treasureling]

I don't like being angry.

[ Just sometimes he can't help it. ]

[parricida]

Hence the other option, dear.

[treasureling]

But I think you're a liar if you say you're not angry at all.

[parricida]

Is there something wrong with being a liar?

[treasureling]

[ A blink. ]

Isn't there?

[parricida]

Hardly. A good liar is something to be valued.

[treasureling]

Why?

[parricida]

Why not? Can you think of no situation that might be improved with a lie or two?