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[parricida]

[Hey, it's Garak! Looking, admittedly, not quite his best-- his hair is tremendously mussed, sticking up a little and far too long, and is that blood smeared on his neck? No. That can't be-- that's probably not blood. Probably not.

Anyway. It's Garak, sitting in his ship, smiling at the camera.]

Now. Despite our recent opportunities on these three moons, some rather lovely ladies have reminded me that one can't always have the clothes one wants. And with some new fabric in my possession, I thought I too might offer my services to the fleet.

I'm a tailor by trade-- a very good tailor, in fact. If you, like myself, are getting rather tired of Floot Loops clothes, send me a message, and I may be able to help you.

Comments

[theboogieman]

[see, here's the funny thing.

Zhas' coat is in the room.

Zhas' shoes are in the room.

Zhas' holster and guns are in the room, discarded as carelessly (?) as his shoes.

The ventilation grate in the ceiling is open. The rats make a lot of noise up there, sometimes. It is also just big enough for a skinny human to crawl through.

...Suffice to say, Zhas is not in the room.]

[parricida]

[But all he does is grin. Slipping off his own shoes, Garak glances up and then exits the room. He follows the vent, listening quite intently, following whatever sounds he might make. He also smells-- Cardassian sense of smell is so much better than their hearing, and so it's much easier for him to sniff and follow, as it were.]

[theboogieman]

[unfortunately, no matter how stealthy he is... he's never really been able to get around smelling like a mammal. the rodents will cover some of the noise, but it's pretty hot up in those vents...

there's a distant noise from the cargo bay, something opening. the smells will lead him right there, to the big open room filled with scaffolding, crates, and whatever else this crew has acquired during their travels. the smells lead around behind some crates nearby. if he's really observant, though, he might notice that his target is somewhere on the other side of the room, tucked in shadows and up off the ground.

he's very quiet, though. heartbeat way down, breathing nearly nonexistent. he's even closed his eyes so their glow doesn't give him away. he practically melts into the shadows of the little nook he's found himself.]

tell me if this is okay!

[parricida]

[It takes him far too long to follow the scent-- the first corner he checks is thoroughly empty, and it's then that Garak heads elsewhere. He can barely sense the other man-- but he can sense him, faint and nearly gone, and oh, he's absurdly proud of him. He knows how to lose his presence nearly as well as Garak does.

It takes him a while to find his nook-- but when he does, Garak stands in front of him, smirking widely, his blue eyes gleaming.]

that's perfect :}

[theboogieman]

[to be fair, it looks like he quickly wadded up his shirt and threw it into that corner--one last-ditch effort to throw his tracker off of his scent. it was cheap, not particularly graceful, but if Garak had been a vampire... this would have been a trap, and the distraction would have given Zhas the precious few seconds he needed to sneak above and counterattack.

but Garak is not a vampire (despite how Zhas treated this like any other hunt without thinking), so Zhas stays where he is and waits, very patiently, for Garak to either find him or miss him.

and he finds him. several seconds after the footsteps stop, Zhas' jack-o-lantern eyes crack open and he glance back up at him. he's gone and lost his shirt, and the rest of his clothes are dirty from the vents, but he's got a smirk on his face too--and that's something he hasn't worn around Garak before.]

[parricida]

Clever, clever boy.

[He hisses it out and grins, kneeling before him. He's still larger, still the one dominant, still in charge-- but he wants to talk to him a fair bit.]

You've been hunted before, haven't you?

[theboogieman]

[ah... that's interesting. he doesn't like being the one in a submissive position, but he's wedged in between some boxes and the wall, and Garak has free range of motion--so unless he really wants to fight for it, there's not much he can do.

fair's fair, he decides. Garak did find him. he nods in response to his comment.]

You track like the ones who hunt me.

[parricida]

I track like someone who's been trained for it.

[He smiles. It's not a nice smile, but he doesn't lean any more forward.]

Not a vampire, however.

[theboogieman]

['not a vampire' is always a good distinction with him. this little hunt has been full of a lot of connotations, good and bad alike.

he nods again, unwedging his shoulders a little.]

[parricida]

[With a little smile he tips his head again, staring at Zhas with interest.]

How long have you hunted them, hm?

[theboogieman]

[oh, it's been a long time. he holds up the sign for 'sixteen'--it's basic, Garak should know it by now.]

[parricida]

My god. And here I thought you were only sixteen yourself.

[theboogieman]

[it's funny how his default, deadeyed glare can somehow get more deadeyed.]

[parricida]

[With a laugh he stands and offers a hand.]

And how does one get into that business, hm?

[theboogieman]

[he... hesitates, looking down at Garak's hand with far more consideration than the gesture really warrants. but that's Zhas. things that seem normal to others are foreign and riddled with meaning, to him.

thankfully, he takes the hand, and uses it to pull himself out of his hiding spot. his face got a little smudged on one side, easy to see once he steps into the light.

for all that, he shakes his head. doesn't want to talk history.]

[parricida]

Yes, yes . . .

[He licks his thumb and reaches forward, helping fix Zhas' make-up.]

[theboogieman]

[oh my god you're LIKE HIS MOM he leans away from him, expression shifting to pretty obvious disgust.]

[parricida]

If you insist on wearing makeup, Zhas, you have to contend with it being smudged. You look like you've been crying.

[theboogieman]

[he just... growls at him. like an irritable dog.]

[parricida]

My, what a clever response.

[He tips his head, smiling at him.]

[theboogieman]

[and since Zhas is so mature and sociable, he walks past Garak to go find his shirt.]

[parricida]

Your jaw is particularly a mess. Practically broken-- unless, of course, that's what you wish to look like.

[theboogieman]

Stop.

[growled out from where he's getting his shirt--and you know what? fuck you he's just going to wipe his face off with it because clearly his makeup isn't good enough for anyone around here.

who am I kidding, Garak is making him self-conscious as hell.]

[parricida]

[Which is, of course, what he wanted-- he's never seen Zhas without his makeup before.]

Would you like some help? There's a bit just along your nose . . .

[theboogieman]

[he casually flips him off. will get the bit around his nose, though. he's actually very good at getting everything, and was already hyper-aware of all the ways it was smudged before Garak started bringing attention to everything...

he'll maybe have dark makeup smudged around his eyes until the day he's buried, but he cleans up well besides.]