Afterparty

[latinumsbetter]

[After Zvei walks down into the earth and it closes over his head, and Typhon gives his goodbye...the Phantasmal Bar finally flickers out of existence. Quark breathes out a slow breath.]

Alright. The bar downstairs is going to be open. Stop in. [That is not a request.]

Riful, let's see what we can do about that thing you need.

[He'll give Leb a squeeze--before she detaches from him. He makes eye contact at least once with all of his employees, and then he turns and walks out of the Arena. So...post trial, the bar downstairs is once again open. The employees are around at different times, and Quark is once again behind the bar. There’s been several of the extra togas gathered and folded to be used as blankets. There's food and drinks and places to sit and think or talk or whatever one would like to do.

There are two more drinks that are made and sit just behind the counter to accompany with the other two that are usually remade and replaced every day.

The door is open.]

Comments

[markofnobility]

Certainly not in some strange new land like this.

[ his hyperactive child mind could have never dreamed it either, honestly]

[stringup]

Oh, definitely not. Not even in my wildest dreams.

[ In multiple sense and for multiple reasons. ]

[markofnobility]

Yet, here you are.

[He lays his head back down, eyes heavy but adoring in their sleepiness. He thinks she could talk him to sleep easily if he allowed it. He's getting close already]

Hmm, tell me more about the Threshold, my dear. No detail is too small.

[stringup]

[ Whatever brooding that was brewing through her recollection is softened when she sees the look in Ferdinand's eyes. How could she not when faced with such adoration? ]

Hm, then...I should probably explain to you what the Threshold is. The largest empire in Creation is called the Realm, based on the Blessed Isle. The Threshold is what they call everywhere else, and the places the Realm annexes there become its satrapies.

...I was born and grew up in a hot spring town in the Threshold, part of a satrapy controlled by House Regara. The sort of town people stop by for relief from the Northern cold.

[ Speaking of cold, for some reason, it's starting to feel a little chilly in this room...? ]

[markofnobility]

A hot spring... hm... we should visit the bath house later.

[The chill brings it to mind. Instead of feeling the ominous pressure he just pulls the bedding closer around them both, pressing closer and thinking of the steam and warm water. Oh, that sounds lovely. He can picture the spring in the snow already. He really is falling asleep.]

[stringup]

[ Leave it to Ferdinand von Aegir to treat death's icy grip as if it were a winter chill, she thinks. Velvet huddles closer as Ferdinand pulls the bedding around them, but stays quiet when he brings up the bathhouse.

She's avoided it ever since they had access to it, preferring to bathe in the personal bathroom instead. The very idea of going in where someone might see her even with the bathing suit feels impossible, because it can't possibly hide everything that's damaged about her body.

...She knows Ferdinand is probably just mumbling nonsense while he's half-asleep, but she can't help quietly adding, ]

You probably won't like what you'll see.

[markofnobility]

Maybe not.

[He's not so caught up in his adoration to deny it will probably be quite distressing.]

But it will not change anything.

[stringup]

[ ...

She really shouldn't want to cry, and yet. ]

...I really don't know what I did to deserve you.

[markofnobility]

Velvet... you do not need to do anything to deserve things, especially not from me. Come here- let's get some sleep.

[He can see she's reaching her limit, and he is too, honestly]

[stringup]

[ For once, she doesn't even put up the pretense of protesting, snuggling up close to Ferdinand and closing her eyes. ]

...Good night, my sun.

[ The first time she's called him this, after how often he's used endearments with her as natural as breathing. ]