In the dark of night, men and creatures alike hide away. There's safety to be found in the darkness, but it's a double-edged sword, this safety. Like so many other things in life, it is only relative to the dangers that lurk in the night. One is only as safe as one is capable to face the monsters, within and without.

( A thin tendril of smoke rises up to the skies from the second balcony from the left, one story up. )

It's been a long day, but not at all in a bad sense. He feels relaxed, content with his day of work. So many new students, positively charming - with the exception of one or two - such brilliant young minds just waiting to suck up vital knowledge like sponges ( Read more... )

Having called ahead to make sure he was welcome to visit, Garak makes his way over to the Bashir residence. He carries a tupperware container of something or other under one arm, and a stack of books under the other arm. That white plastic bag dangling from his wrist? Just what is in there? Films, perhaps ( Read more... )

The small apartment is filled with the unmistakable smell of freshly popped popcorn and butter. And what Garak does, he does old school. Popcorn machines and microwaveable popcorn bags are for wusses and Americans. Real men do things from scratch, with real ingredients.

The big pot on the stove pop-pop-pop-pops and putters, but safely under a ( Read more... )

( Lunch )

The vast majority of his evening has been put to good use turning the small apartment into the semblance of a home. He doesn't need much, but he likes some sort of order to the full picture. The details are important only to the extent of what they lend to the bigger picture. It's a very important thing to remember, and recently, it's something he' ( Read more... )

( Of Phone Calls and Veiled Messages, or The One Where Garak is Too Paranoid for His Own Good )

( Wednesay night )

Come lunchtime, Garak has ventured outside, his long coat being the only thing keeping out the cold. He's brought his lunch, consisting of a thermos of soup, and a pack of cigarettes.

See the smoke billowing from his mouth on every exhalation? It's just that cold.

Really.

Wanna make something of it? Go right ahead.