. Ah, the ease at the end of a battle. In the thick of it, entertainment had to be put on hold, comms sharp and quick and humorless (mostly). But now, as the last of Bursetti's goons decided to escape with their lives, it was... somewhat safer.

"On my way," she replied, beginning the tedious process of breaking Gréine down. It was a signal to her system that the mission was over, she could slow down and breathe. The methodical twists and clicks and pops of the rifle coming apart settled her nerves.

"I'll be fine. Tell them to get the car warmed up, my fingers are half frozen." She closed the case, finally, slinging it carefully over her shoulder as she began to trek down the hill, away from the building. On seeing the car and her people, she quickened her pace. She offered little to denote their success, merely stepping into the vehicle and sitting in the back seat with a sigh as they drove off. "God, we should've picked a warmer day for this shit," she mumbled, rubbing her hands together.

"You had me there for a second," Faye grinned, unable to keep herself from smiling. A nice slap on the ass from her dearly beloved was always a welcomed pain. But, she couldn't reminisce at the current moment, fully aware she'd get too caught up in her daydreams and memories. They'd be made a reality once they were safely back home.

Faye continued to walking down the barren street, skipping over cracks in the sidewalk for some old superstition that couldn't possibly effect her. With all the fighting they'd already done and with another distraction at a different location their forces had to be have been slimmed down enough for a dirty get away.

"Start packin' I'm almost at the extraction and it doesn't seem like we've left any of them," she replied. "Well, none willin' to play. Are you gonna be ok or do you want me to meet with you?" As she drew closer to the end of the street she could see where some of their gangmates were idly waiting near a dark SUV. Her pace quickened until she was nearly jogging, her hand placed over the pocket that contained a disk with some of Bursetti's secrets.

A glass of kanar Commission for the lovely @samcentral! Yes, I'm open for commissions :D.

. He grinned at the comment. Oddballs indeed, he didn't know quite what to make of the encampment, yet. He knew he liked company, at the very least, but beyond that... the situation was a little too dire to really feel like he was connecting to the others yet.

"Yeah, I like traveling, I don't really like getting rained on and rusting out of my armor," he chuckled. "Sometimes it's fun running around in the rain sans armor." Added after a longer pause as he began to peel out of leather and metal.

Once in his tunic, he rolled his more or less useless sleeve out of the way, giving more of a look at the gnarly wound.

"Do I get to keep the arm, doc?"

"Well if my magic hasn't already put you off then I can only imagine the folk in your camp." Hinoka mused aloud, "Then again given the times perhaps it's best us oddballs stick together."

"I mean when learning you're likely to make mistakes, you just have to make sure it's a mistake you don't make ever again."

How cruel of nature to make so many deadly plants and mushrooms that look just like the harmless ones.

"Oh a tent! Fancy," Hinoka chirped, "I would have settled for a tree or a warm rock."

She was joking but often times wandering about left for little coin to spend at Inns and so once again nature provided.

. "I'm very sorry we're missing it," Julian replied with a grin, playing up the idea that the two of them were engaged in some kind of naughty smalltalk. No one would want to listen in to two newlyweds muttering. "I'd pay any amount of latinum to see someone try to bribe Odo," he replied, grin more genuine at the thought.

"I think I can keep up that end of the bargain," he replied, putting enough lilt to his voice to imply something private. Honestly, if the entire mission was just pretending to be Thera's new husband, he might have found it fun. Unfortunately, he might have to interact with Sloan's agents as well- putting a damper on any true fun he might find. He was going to try nevertheless.

Julian collected up his bags, hauling one over his shoulder and wheeling the other behind him. A taxi freed up, and he nodded his head towards them, transferring some credits to the driver before she took off with them. The ride up passed great sculptures, workers at stalls with foods imported from other sections of the galaxy, ads for interactive exhibits and dancing halls, everything one could possibly want.

"That, and much more," he said with a chuckle, waiting for the driver to roll her eyes in the rearview mirror before he sat back. "Sisko used his last message to tell me that Jadzia's cursing us both for being able to go here. Apparently she's been wanting to for 3 lifetimes."

"I think it'll be highly entertaining, and I'm almost sorry we're missing it." Thera played absently with the collar of his tunic, both for the impression it would give anyone observing and for the excuse of keeping her voice low. "The contrast between trying to bribe Quark and trying to bribe Odo ..." Or Garak spotting the spies at a hundred yards and doing his 'tailor' routine.

The genuine smile growing on her face might be very fitting for a newly-wed, even if the real reason was something so totally other. "You'd better make this trip worthwhile for me, Julian, or I really will regret not being there to see!"

After a moment the 'return to your seats' announcement piped over the comms, with those few who had wandered off obeying - except for one greying gentleman who had to be spoken to by the Steward and escorted back; there always seemed to be one in every crowd.

There was also ... well she wouldn't admit it, but some of the slightly breathless excitement as Thera looked around the arrivals lounge and at the Starbase beyond was real. Whether in the Marines, the Academy or on DS9 she had only very rarely had access to this kind of luxury, and the prospect of doing so on someone else's expense ... she couldn't deny she was planning to enjoy!

"Tholian silk?" Amusement coloured her words as they collected their luggage, looking around for the taxi points, "Sounds amazing ..." And here she once more snuggled up with a flutter of lashes, "even better for your husbandly duties, wouldn't you say?"

you haven't changed, you just think you have

. There was more to it, that much was apparent. Each person, even the one that seemed to lead them, held their secrets. Either it was a lack of trust or a fear of their new small community's reaction- either way, they all wanted to stick together for one reason or another. For Halsin, perhaps, being the outsider looking in was... interesting.

He would not pretend he felt insult for Shar- his own history notwithstanding, he held no care for the deity and what she demanded of her followers.

Halsin instinctually disbelieved the meandering answer. He was an old bear, immune to much of the pageantry of Astarion's kind of deception. There was something there that Astarion didn't want to talk about, and despite his curiosity, Halsin would be patient.

He had an old scar, one he didn't want to talk about, and he wanted Halsin's help with... some aspect of it. Interesting. A further piece of the puzzle that was Astarion.

"That I could aid," he said after a moment, softer eyes meeting Astarion's sharp red. He offered up a large calloused hand, the gentle golden glow an offering to the other.

Quite frankly, Astarion didn't know if the scars were magical in nature. Cazador had carved into him enough he believed any of his typical vampiric constitution couldn't keep up with the damage inflicted at the time. "Hers were inflicted by that little cult she follows."

"I ask merely out of curiosity. Why else?" He debated with himself a moment longer. The itch was particularly annoying now that he had armor and long days without a proper bath to contend with. Annoyance enough he didn't want them to be a hindrance whilst he sneaked around in the shadows for the perfect kill on an enemy.

"What if let's say the old injury ached or itched? Is that within your power as a healer, Druid?" Perhaps he displayed more of his interest in the topic. How he leaned forward a touch further. How he kept eye contact with Halsin.

I keep thinking I want to play more BG3 bc I love it which is true, but the truth is I just want to take more pictures of Mythe and Halsin

. If there was anything Mythe appreciated most about their impromptu traveling band, it was Gale cooking. Left to his own devices, he'd eat poorly cooked bland meat and raw vegetables until it inevitably killed him. Cooking was simply not a blessing he received.

"Let me see," he said, holding a calloused hand out to take Gale's own. He looked the cut over, energy flooding from his fingertips into Gale's wound. It wasn't as good as a more practiced healer, but the wound closed. "I'm not the best at chopping, but I can help." He picked up the smaller blade, beginning to work. "Where'd you learn to cook anyways, Gale? Books?"

@dimensionalspades liked for starter!

"--- Damn." He whispered softly, hissing as the pain of a small cut flared in his being. He wasn't paying attention and placed the pad to his lips for moment as it that would somehow stop the pain. It was small, not bleeding so he ignored it. He paused for a moment, turning to his companions. "Could someone help me for a moment? I am afraid these need cut and the pot needs stirred and I cannot do both at once."

. "There is a time to work and a time to rest. Now is the time to rest." If there was something he realized would be his main job amongst this selection of weary souls, it was convincing them to slow down. Their situation demanded much haste, but one could not fight illithid while exhausted and hungry.

His head was tipped just so, brows lifted, as though he was a teacher scolding a student. When they finally agreed, his lips curled further into a grin.

"Ah, there we are," he said with a more pleasant tone. "You'll be right as rain, then. The work will go quickly."

At first, the wolf-kissed winced as the man's hands slide across their side. Eivor is not quite used to another's help, but they did not refuse Halsin's help - not this time. They knew they'd do better in battle if they were healed up. Almost expecting to feel better right away so they can spring up and do their work but their body refuses. ❝I... Cannot rest. I have work to do.❞ Yet their body screams for them to, so they relent. Sighing, they nod and look towards their bedroll, slowly standing up. ❝I'll go rest like you say. I'll do my work tomorrow.❞

Long walk in a cold night

DIMENSIONALSPADES ;; a selective indie multimuse featuring Halsin Silverbough of Baldur’s Gate 3, as well as a variety of muses from video games and sci fi media. ❦ about ❦ rules ❦ muses ❦ interest tracker ❦

. He nodded in agreement. He was never a particularly voracious creature but for the times that he had gone without food too long and someone reminded him. Those times, however, he'd probably fight the cosmos itself for even a small scrap of sustenance. Being stolen by a bird... unforgivable!

"And mine is grand! My uncle collected tomes for many years befgore I began to help in bringing more. Some are not strictly about our research, but..." he shrugged. "There is some merit in those tomes as well."

"Ah? Do you have a favorite, then?" He asked. "Some culture you've experienced that has stuck out to you? I'm afraid my studies focus on those no longer with us rather than my neighbors."

Ikaros had finally settled in a nearby tree. It seemed the faithful companion had grown tired of flying and she often wondered if he also was cured of the feeling of fatigue as she was. The staff made him immortal by proxy, but did he have the other side effects? He still seemed to have a voracious appetite, or perhaps it was out of habit.

"It's a shame to lose any food not willingly given." She adjusted her armor, still not feeling the wear of being on the road for some time.

"It is, they don't know what they're missing." Not that she'd ever hang around those institutions for long. The longer she stayed in any one location the more likely her secret was to get out. Plus as much as she longed for a more peaceful existence at times, she couldn't ignore the call to action she felt in her bones. It was who she was, she couldn't change it if she tried. "I'd definitely be interested to see your tomes, a good library is never to be looked down on." For a moment, she paused, mulling over her answer. "Traveling. Hunting. I like experiencing new cultures. No better way to learn than to be there and experience it for yourself."

. "Their loss. They could do with some extra flavor- though I wouldn't share my tailor with them." Romulans were a fascinating people. So pragmatic, but far too often they engaged in humans' petty squabbles by happenstance. Pasiphos wagered they liked the show and the intrigue more than they would ever admit.

"Curious," they remarked, still leaning back casually in their seat- the perfect image of a renaissance painting, if only they used more eye-catching colors and models half as beautiful.

Speaking of, who else was so suited to be at Pasiphos' side? Equally charming, equally devious, what a beautiful pair they made; what a dangerous one.

"I thought he only trusted the 'Kephrii'." They sipped from their glass, eyes focused on Hel as if to emphasize the strangeness afoot in the ambassador's choice of travel. Most curious. After a moment, their gaze slowly moved to the crowd again, seeking Novak amongst the heads of departments and this or that- boring creatures with no worth to Pasiphos quite yet. "Admiral Susenov has the same alcohol tolerance and theatrics as she always does. She whispered of a special guest from beyond the neutral zone. The Vulcans and Cardassians are already here, darling, who else would want to crash a Federation party?"

What a beautiful pair they made. Employer - more spectacular and flashy than the server. Had both of them come to the ball for its intended purpose, they would fit among the extravagant individuals proudly showcasing the best aspects of their planets. Even now, they were engaged in an activity predominantly widespread across the large hall. Gossiping with servants and assistants. What could be more natural for this environment?

Helena opened her mouth to suggest a reason for their target's belatedness. However, Pas's words rendered her speechless. The human's face turned unsettlingly still, and she forced a chilling, calculated: 'Really—' that sounded more like a statement than a question. A coincidence, or could the Admiral's late arrival be connected to that thrilling yet detrimental new piece of information? On the inside, she couldn't decide if the idea worried her or excited like a pleasant surprise.

'Nah!' The woman chuckled with restrained tension and absent-mindedly grabbed a tart, twirling it around. 'A Romulan ambassador? Here? I thought they were only interested in skirmishes with our like. They don't deem us worthy of conversation, let alone diplomacy.' She drew a steadying breath, muttering: 'I'll believe it when I see it.' Before casually discarding the tart in a nearby flowerpot. Roughly behind Pasiphos's chair. 'Novak's delay suggests that he used more than a single shuttle on his way here, which raises the chances of scheduling errors. Now. I don't know enough to assume why he complicated things,' her eyes had already been expertly scanning the people when… 'Wait. Who told you that Romulans were expected?'

. "A bit successful, I promise I'll appreciate it more when we're- ah, out." If they got out, he stopped himself from saying, despite his desire to. He wasn't in the business of losing hope quickly, and he intended to at least do something before this cube tried to eat both of them alive.

"Well, I'm hoping they haven't quite annihilated the Starbase, I rather like living there." As dangerous as it'd become, DS9 was still home, and he very much intended to return to it in one piece. The Founders couldn't kill him, he didn't want the Borg to.

"I think so." He was never good at staying in one spot for too long, anyways. He tentatively stepped out, looking around before he continued. Stepping onto the bridge that connected to other structures, Julian looked around the area. A dozen other bridges, patrolling Borg in other places- clearly the Borg weren't at all concerned about the ship, and they weren't sweating about fighting the Federation. This was easy to them.

"If we were to try to sabotage them, a central structure seems the best way, don't you think?" He asked, eyes scanning for anything that looked particularly important.

Judging by Bashir’s response, his jocular remark had not landed — in all likelihood, due to their harrowing circumstances and the prospect of being assimilated into the Borg Collective.

'An attempt, yes. I was not successful?’ he pointed out, his observation rendered in an interrogative form. 'Apologies. Timing is not one of my strongest suits — at least, not in that context, in others, it is impeccable.’

He proceeded to the console and perused the information it displayed, adding to the particulars he had already stored to his databanks, until the Doctor disintegrated the silence again. “I wish I could turn my emotions off…” Data momentarily suspended his activities and, at an exaggeratedly slow rate, had the servomechanisms in his neck rotate his head to direct a prolonged, sideward look at the other Starfleet officer. One man’s nightmare is another man’s dream…

His yellow eyes remained tethered to Julian as he navigated the room; he could only hope that the Doctor’s propensity for getting into trouble would not impede — or worse, permanently terminate — their progress. A minor tilt of the head ensued the other’s exiguous analysis of the area beyond the one they presently found themselves in. Quietly, Data traversed the width of the room to Julian’s location.

'Perhaps they assumed no one could have persevered under such conditions and simply… let the survivors perish,’ he hypothesised. 'Or they are too preoccupied annihilating the starbase and fighting off the fleet — assessing a crashed shuttlecraft in one of their cargo holds is the least of their concerns. Shall we proceed?’ he added pragmatically, nodding his head in the direction of the bridge Julian had indicated. 'I have all the information I require.’

Iregret planting some of it late but everything is coming up slowly but surely!! Had a filling done on a bad tooth yesterday so I was a drooling mess for the entire rest of the day. But I do feel better today!

I tried cel-shading. Idk how people do it. Anyway, a quick little thing for my dear friend @dimensionalspades of their muse Julian and my idiot Faye.