Streets OTA
Humans were fascinating creatures... in that utterly annoying sort of way. Picard thought that it had been the Continuum that had gathered all of these people in one place, and it would be like the Continuum to be biased towards humanity. But why him? Some cosmic joke to position him near Picard because he knew all too well the officer's experience with Cardassians. That would be very amusing of the Continuum. Odd to make him the specific choice though, being that he'd been ostracized by his people.
At least at the moment he was only initially eye-catching in the way that most people wandering about weren't dressed in thick, fur lined parkas. The hood of his was pulled up. It did little to keep the scales of his face being chilled, but the leather gloves over his fingers kept them suitably warm. He did hate it when humans stared at him disdainfully, and it had to be amusing to the Cardassian Central Command and the Obsidian Order so he always masked it with that pleasant expression and bore it like any other torture.
He needed distraction though, and distraction came for him in the form or repetitively sewing or arranging and coordinating fabrics. It was simple and easy and bright and kept his mind and eyes busy so he didn't notice those looks or miss his kind or feel the physical pain of separation and rejection.
The kind and charming man who'd gotten him coffee when he'd first arrived advised him about the bridal shop and there was apparently another clothing store. He could probably offer services to both. He doubted he would be terribly busy here and there was a decided lack of intelligence that he could gather outside of stories from the residents of other universes, so what else was there for him to do? Plus... he really wanted to see if Earth men actually at one point actively did elaborately dress as women as Stildyne had so generously informed him.
Oh, but this fuzzy lining really didn't help his peripheral vision any, and it was difficult keeping an eye on the shop names.
Braving reaction and cold, he pulled the hood of the parka back and made himself keep an eye on the shops that he strolled down the street, hard soles clicking softly against the sidewalk pavement. Despite himself he couldn't escape that Cardassian stride- almost a strut, and filled with all the confidence of an entire race and world and empire. His strangely pale eyes (his people usually had darker) avoided the faces of the humans. Usually he could meet gazes and looks with forced enthusiasm. He supposed that all the recent events had tired him to it.
He stopped outside a shop with dresses in the window, most looking detailed enough to be custom made.
At least at the moment he was only initially eye-catching in the way that most people wandering about weren't dressed in thick, fur lined parkas. The hood of his was pulled up. It did little to keep the scales of his face being chilled, but the leather gloves over his fingers kept them suitably warm. He did hate it when humans stared at him disdainfully, and it had to be amusing to the Cardassian Central Command and the Obsidian Order so he always masked it with that pleasant expression and bore it like any other torture.
He needed distraction though, and distraction came for him in the form or repetitively sewing or arranging and coordinating fabrics. It was simple and easy and bright and kept his mind and eyes busy so he didn't notice those looks or miss his kind or feel the physical pain of separation and rejection.
The kind and charming man who'd gotten him coffee when he'd first arrived advised him about the bridal shop and there was apparently another clothing store. He could probably offer services to both. He doubted he would be terribly busy here and there was a decided lack of intelligence that he could gather outside of stories from the residents of other universes, so what else was there for him to do? Plus... he really wanted to see if Earth men actually at one point actively did elaborately dress as women as Stildyne had so generously informed him.
Oh, but this fuzzy lining really didn't help his peripheral vision any, and it was difficult keeping an eye on the shop names.
Braving reaction and cold, he pulled the hood of the parka back and made himself keep an eye on the shops that he strolled down the street, hard soles clicking softly against the sidewalk pavement. Despite himself he couldn't escape that Cardassian stride- almost a strut, and filled with all the confidence of an entire race and world and empire. His strangely pale eyes (his people usually had darker) avoided the faces of the humans. Usually he could meet gazes and looks with forced enthusiasm. He supposed that all the recent events had tired him to it.
He stopped outside a shop with dresses in the window, most looking detailed enough to be custom made.