Week four

[letsplayamod]

Two more of your fellow gods, your companions, your friends, have met their end together. As you turn in for the night, and a new week dawns upon you, it's starting to be a bitter experience. Just how much of this will you be forced to take?

But all isn't just despair. The morning is brighter than the last. The storm clouds that previously plagued almost every day have dissipated, and this week brings plenty of sun and a friendlier breeze. Not to mention, another floor of this strange temple has revealed itself. Whatever lies within is your domain, not Typhon's. Keep it tight in your grasp, because you never know when you'll lose it.

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Quark's Bar

Comments

[markofnobility]

[ he steps back to observe the sculpture again, nodding to himself]

It is a bit clashing compared to the statues. But... that makes it all the more fitting, doesn't it?

[ a momunmemt not to the would-be god but the man. Messy, but well loved]

[latinumsbetter]

Yeah. Outside of worrying about what might happen to it, I think he'd like it there. [Quark is quiet for a moment just...looking. Because Ferdinand's right. It is fitting.

He suddenly feels very, very tired. And then, quietly.]

...someone's got to manage.

[neutrally, though there's a slight slump to his shoulders and a solemness to his expression that wasn't there before]

[markofnobility]

... it does not have to be you. I know we have... not always shown ourselves to be the best at it; but most of us ARE adults who can tend to themselves. You should take a few days.

[latinumsbetter]

[Quark snorts a bit at that, wryly]

Adults. Yeah, sure, by letter of the law. [There's a dry tone to his voice, though it doesn't quite cover an odd mix of bitterness and fondness in there. Quark quiets again, arms folding over his chest as he just...stares at that statue]

Y'know, my nephew's in Starfleet.

[markofnobility]

Oh? I am surprised- you did not seem fond of the Fleet.

[latinumsbetter]

I'm not. [and yet, somehow, he doesn't sound as strong of conviction about that as he should]

[markofnobility]

[ he thinks over their coversation on Starfleet, and some dots connect]

Is he a foolish type of young man then?

[latinumsbetter]

Considering he's got his father's lobes, yes. He's also got my stubbornness and that sense of loyalty and morality that he's gotten from the growing up on the station and Starfleet, and you've got a recipe for someone making foolish decisions.

[he's clearly going for exasperated, annoyed--but it comes out with equal amounts of fondness and, though it's clearly attempted to be covered by his frustration and irritation, concern]

[markofnobility]

Is... Starfleet dangerous?

[ it's a fleet, he would be surprised if there isnt conflict they are moving to handle. He suddenly feels like an understanding is forming in him about Quark]

[latinumsbetter]

Normally, Starfleet is about exploration. Exploring brave new worlds, or some kind of canned slogan that pulls in young people like a Cardassian vole to fresh Bajoran cheese. But if there's something that they object to, they'll hop right into war if it suits their purposes.

[markofnobility]

[ he looks skyward, through the open ceiling of the pavilion. There are no stars in sight. But he knows they are there, behind the sunlight.]

... it's sad. Knowing there's war even amoung the Goddess' Sea.

[latinumsbetter]

There's always war somewhere, whether that's planet-side or in the galaxy. Right now, it's between the Alpha and Gamma Quadrants. The station is in the Alpha Quadrant and both sides want the Wormhole nearby for themselves.

[markofnobility]

Right near where you are. You fear he will be caught in the battles.

[ a seemingly peaceful goal caught in the brutality of reality. It's not hard to make the correlations between it and here, even for Ferdinand. Why Quark was so furious with Athena after Typhon appeared. Why Alex's death cut so deep even beyond all of their affection for him.

He feels suddenly hyper-aware of himself and hates it]

[latinumsbetter]

He already has been. More than once. Almost died. I thought he'd give it up and back out after the first time, but that stubbornness of his--[Quark shakes his head] Of all the things he had to get from me.

[markofnobility]

Stubborness can be a virtue in the right hands.

Even so... is that why you took Athena's offer?

[ there are things a god can do that a barkeep can not]

[latinumsbetter]

...yeah.

[But...that's not important right now. And really, what more is there to say? Quark's lips purse a bit, fingers drumming on his arm.]

Y'know, I keep thinking about the first time, lately.

[markofnobility]

The first time?

[latinumsbetter]

The first time he almost died.

[markofnobility]

Was... was it... was he hurt?

[ that self aware feeling grows. He wonders if his father ever felt this kind of dread Quark is implying, hearing about the exploits of General von Aegir from the guards in his cell. Or was he too worried about his own traitorous neck at that point? He can't settle on if the idea of his father worrying about him makes him happy or want to tear his own skin off.

He starts shifting from foot to foot anxiously]

[latinumsbetter]

He only got out of it with a few scrapes and bruises. Nothing that a quick trip to sickbay wouldn't fix. But he was lucky. Aside from him, only two other kids survived.

[markofnobility]

Only two...

[ he thinks on the Battle of Gareg Mach. His fellow students running screaming dying for a war they had no right to be involved in. Kids. Like he was. He starts fiddling with his riding jacket cuffs almost franticly]

[latinumsbetter]

Yeah. [Quark is definitely noting the fiddling, eyes flicking towards his hands, and then up for Ferdinand's face, though his body and face stay turned towards the statues ]

See, originally it was him and his best friend Jake. They were in a runabout--that's a ship built for a small amount of people for smaller missions--on a diplomatic mission to Ferenginar. Wasn't even supposed to be anything dangerous, but their ship got attacked by an enemy ship.

[...he huffs, turning to step in front of Ferdinand and reach for his cuffs himself, taking his left hand and starting to turn the cuff down, adjusting the measure of it and smoothing it, hands moving in a way that might be considered fussing if it wasn't so business-like.]

They weren't able to outrun it, but they were rescued on the way. It was the strangest thing, though, who they got rescued by.

[markofnobility]

[ the fussing is shockingly familiar, bringing to mind a life time of nannies and matrons and tutors with it's mix of fondness and business crispness. It's enough to bring his mind back from it's wandering, some of the doe-eyed blankness fading from his face and replaced with it's original curiosity.

He allows the cuff straightening to continue with a warm passivity]

Who was it?

[latinumsbetter]

There was this ship named the Valiant. It was originally manned by seven officers and thirty-five cadets on a three-month training mission, which is pretty standard, except that the cadets were members of a group called the Red Squad--exceptional among their peers and all that. They were given a real nice ship and everything. But during that mission, the war broke out, and the Valiant was considered lost in the initial Dominion attack.

And wouldn't you know it? That was the ship that rescued them. [he glances up at Ferdinand, tilting his head a bit as if to emphasize the incredulity of it as he finishes fixing the cuff of his left sleeve and moves on to the right]

[markofnobility]

[ his eyes widen at that]

Saints, what are the odds? Saved by others assumed dead. If I was still properly devout I would probably call it providence.