video;

[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

[parricida]

If I didn't leave you some mystery, you might not have come back.

[treasureling]

You could have always tried lies.

[parricida]

Are you sassing me?

[treasureling]

I would never.

[parricida]

I might actually think you had a sense of humor, Malak.

[treasureling]

Men aren't allowed those.

[parricida]

I am in trouble, then, aren't I?

[treasureling]

[ He was joking, on the absurdity of this place where everything is allowed and there are no boundaries. Or, even worse, that the boundaries are placed in opposite directions - making him something odd, something that will never fit.

Garak, in an odd way, gives him hope. He has the impression that Garak doesn't quite fit in, but that he makes it work. Malak is fascinated with him. ]

What if I did want clothes from you?

[parricida]

Then you would give me enough of a fee to buy the cloth, and we'd find something masculine and, dare I say, breaking the mold somewhat? Quite possibly it will have pockets. Or a vest? A vest would look quite good on you.

[treasureling]

I'll try it.

At least to make sure there isn't something better out there than the coveralls.

[parricida]

My dear, a paper bag would be better than coveralls.

[treasureling]

You talk about that the way I talk about metals.

[parricida]

Everyone has their specializations, my dear. You know more about metal than I ever will; I fancy I know more about fashion than you do-- though you make up for it in other ways, dearest.

[treasureling]

'Other ways'?

[parricida]

Can you not guess?

[treasureling]

Just hoping you'd compliment my sense of humor and not good looks.

[parricida]

Why can't I compliment both? You seem to have an abundance of positive traits.