Of Saints and Sinners [closed]

[code_obsidian]

WHO: Garak and Elphaba
WHAT: After discovering she has made a horrible mistake, Elphaba seeks guidance and finds more than she bargained for.
WHERE: The Chapel
WHEN: After Elphaba interrogates Ford

Comments

[wicked_west]

After figuring out how to open up the compu-thingie, Elphaba pushed all the letter and number buttons before finding the one that turned it on. The network opened right away and she started reading the posts. She read for three days… every public post there was. People came… people disappeared. There were vampires turned human, the Goblin King, Time Lords (whatever those were) and other aliens. There was something about Naked Rugby. In the end, she could only conclude that this hotel was something far more sinister than the Wizard could ever come up with

[code_obsidian]

Garak was always attuned to his surroundings. He heard the door open not once, but several times before he saw a stranger sweep past him with a...creature of sorts. At first glance, he thought the woman was and Orion, but as soon as she began to speak, he realized it could not be so. Several times it was on the tip of his tongue to interrupt her and let her know that her confession was heard by more than her intended audience. However, old habits were hard to break. He had long been a watcher and listener, and what she said was fascinatingly strange and sad.

It was the weeping that tugged him into motion; that was something he never could bear. It pulled at parts of him best left buried. Standing silently, he drew closer, aware of the creature he had seen fly to the rafters. When he was close enough to speak without raising his voice but not close enough to touch her or pose an obvious danger, he said, "Whatever it is, my dear...can it be that bad?"

[wicked_west]

Chistery flew down to his mistress immediately as the man approached and tugged on her sleeve to let her know someone was coming.

Elphie looked around as the... man? creature? started to speak. She had read through three days of network posts, but hadn't paid more than cursory attention to anyone but Ford's part in them. She figured this guy must be an alien based off other posts. So, like Ford...

She was then painfully aware that A) she hadn't washed in days, B) she was crying... she hated crying, and C) she probably looked quite a sight. Therefore, she hid behind the disdain that so easily came to her.

"Can't a woman worship in peace?" came the sharp reply... with a heavy note of sorrow and a tremble of more weeping to come.

((OOC Deleted and edited for spelling and grammar... and still not perfect.))

[code_obsidian]

He didn't need to be good at reading others to see through that. Pride, well, he could respect that, and an effort to gather oneself. Had she met him a few scant years earlier, he would have retreated with a simple apology. That man died after the war. "I gather not," he said with a slight tip of his head, very blue eyes a bit more gentle than their usual wont.

Reaching to a hidden pocket of his tunic, he drew out a linen kerchief with the initials "D. G." embroidered upon it in delicate blue. He had no idea who "D. G." was, but he or she had exquisite taste in fabric. He offered it to her in a neat fold.

[wicked_west]

"I am the only green person in Oz or on the Earth apparently," she replied in kind.

She listened to his monologue. She wasn't sure what to say at first. She just looked at him, with pity in her eyes. She thought carefully about what to say next. The best she could come up with was, "I'm sorry."

She thought further... trying to decide if her next question would sound harsh or not. But she needed to know... "Did it work? Did the Revolution make a better world?"

[code_obsidian]

Knowing how people, how almost any sentient race could be toward those who were different, Garak said, "That must have been very lonely at times."

His blue gaze slid away from the look of pity. Pity was something he never wanted. He took a sip of his kanar. Had it worked? Was Cardassia a better world minus so much of her population? He thought of all of the reforms, the people who were just learning to breathe and speak with true freedom from reprisal, the future that was possible with three new M-class planets. "Yes," he said finally, lifting a gaze clearer of trouble than a moment before. "Yes, it did. It worked."

[wicked_west]

She slumped back in her chair. "I was never able to instigate my countries revolution. Those closest to me were murdered and then, one day the Wizard finally came for me... sent is assassin for me actually. I am not a hero. Merely a witch." She knew he had heard all of this during her confession, but she'd rather tell him in the spirit of confidence with what he just shared.

[code_obsidian]

"Change often comes in increments," Garak said. "Who's to say that your death might not just be the catalyst for someone else to take up that torch? On my own world..." he leaned back, thinking of how to boil it down succinctly. "Our government was oppressive and totalitarian for generations. But there were little steps along the way. Failed movements, martyrs. People only get hailed as heroes if they succeed or die spectacularly on the verge of it, but results aren't the sum total of what makes one heroic."