Another Warrior Departs [Nexus OPEN POST]

[sonof_mogh]

She was dead. They killed her. He killed her. Murdered by the hands of the Dominion. Or, to be precise, Gul-Dukat. He was a traitor to his own people as well as everyone he ever knew. A mind warped by the Pah-wraiths and the need to destroy the Bajorans and their Emissary, Sisko. Jadzia had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Worf let out an almighty roar of anguish, pain and sorrow. It was a deafening noise that reverberated throughout his Nexus apartment, while his head was snapped back, teeth bared and eyes wet with tears. Did Klingons cry? Oh, they most certainly did when one of their mates was murdered without honour by a coward Cardassian. His apartment lay in ruins, all of his nearest possessions scattered on the floor in disarray. A mirror smashed in his bathroom and his bed sheets ripped up in fierce, primal anger. Feathers from his pillow strewn about the floor.

He was a mess.

Clutched in his hand was one of his Mek'leth knives, intent on being thrust into Dukat's cold Cardassian heart for what he did to his mate; his wife. Jadzia Dax. His Jadzia. The emotion was just too strong to bare as he sunk to his knees and roared again; a pitiful wail of grief. He was alone. The knife dropping to the floor in useless abandon as he could not find the energy to use the PINpoint and seek out revenge back on DS9. He just wanted to mourn her in the Klingon way. A new warrior departing for the Klingon after life, Sto'vo'kor.

No doubt the wailing and roaring would awake other Nexus residents since it is now early evening and Worf had pretty much been screaming for hours.

Comments

[chiaro_oscuro]

Ben isn't that bothered by Worf's screaming - but he doesn't realize it's a person first.

Instead, he gets up to go look for the source of the sound. He's got his "Earth clothes" on, his usual outfit of choice when he's going out drinking or wants to avoid drawing attention to himself. Whatever's going on, someone's upset, and he's going to go do something about it.

When he finds Worf, he asks the Klingon what's wrong. An alien, but not one from a species he knows.

[sonof_mogh]

Worf's head snapped around when he heard the man's voice. Had he left his apartment door open? Who knew. Was the door even attached to the hinges anymore since the Klingon had basically wrecked his apartment in a mad emotion-fuelled rage.

"Why do you disturb me? Go away---I don't need anyone to see me like this!"

His voice was full of anger, sadness and grief. Oh, the grief. He almost snarled at Ben, not out of malice but out of embarrassment. No one should see a warrior at his most vulnerable. Worf's armour was shed off his body and he was a useless mass of emotion. Unstable and dangerous. He picked up a smashed picture frame from the floor and noticed the picture was ripped inside. Growling, he flung it towards the wall, watching is smash into tiny pieces.

[chiaro_oscuro]

"I know. You don't have to tell me anything. There's no shame in grief and anger." Ben's careful with his words, since he doesn't know the other man's species or his culture. He, too, has a tendency to retreat into himself when he's upset, and though he's trying not to break things breaking things is better than lashing out at people.

Ben winces - not just because the alien is clearly upset, but because the way he's reacting to his pain is so familiar. Unstable and dangerous. Ben knows what he's looking at, and because he does he doesn't run or leave.

"Whatever you're going through...I'll invite you out to a drink, with me. That will help."

[sonof_mogh]

Worf was in no mood to talk to anyone, even this man who seemed to be wanting to invite him out to a drink. The Klingon clenched his fists and growled deep and low, yet he didn't yell at the man anymore. What is it with humans and their need to cheer people up? Worf needed solitary time alone to mourn.

"You seek to invite me to--to drink with you?"

He growled the words out not wanting to destroy his apartment anymore but it was hard. The grief was gnawing at him and it hurt. So much. His hair was a mess around his face as he decided to take the man up on his offer.

"Fine. You believe this will help then I accept."

What was there to lose?

[chiaro_oscuro]

"My name's Ben." The introduction is quiet, and Ben bows his head slightly in greeting and respect. He's picked up that the stranger's in mourning. He won't ask the details unless they're given freely, since mourning is private.

Ben knows a few places to visit, he's been to most of them in his time. skekSa's place seems more this person's style, though Ben doesn't know her well and honestly is a little intimidated by her.

"Do you know about The Scarlet Hooyim? We can go there. Or The Viper's Pit, whichever suits your needs."

It's Worf's decision to make.

[sonof_mogh]

Ben.

Through Worf's primal rage he looked towards the dark-haired man and did not speak but nodded sharply. He was in no mood to enjoy himself but perhaps he could raise a few mugs to Jadzia and further her journey into the Klingon afterlife. Perhaps this man could help take his mind off his anguish and pain.

"No, I do not. Take me there and I shall drink with you."

He had made his decision even though he was still in the mood to smash up furniture and anything in his path.

[chiaro_oscuro]

"You can tell me your name, if you want."

Ben knows how it feels to want to smash up the furniture, though he hasn't done that in a while. It's one of the habits he wanted to break, as part of getting his anger under control. So he 's sympathetic, and would be even though he doesn't know exactly why the stranger's angry and upset. It isn't his business. His job is to assist.

"The Viper's Pit? Will that do?" It's the first idea Ben can come up with.

[sonof_mogh]

"I am Worf, son of Mogh."

The words came out feeble, without the usual strength and stoicism as they usually would. The man was beaten and depressed and needed a drink. Something to drown out the painful memories haunting him right now. Perhaps this stranger could provide that.

"Let us go to this Viper's Pit you speak of."

What else did he have to lose?

[iamjustvisiting]

Tommy doesn't hear the sound but feels it from a great distance while standing out in the cold air of the Nexus winter. Maybe it was his precognition or the fact that these feelings were still raw in his own family, either way the sense of pain and anger that comes from loss felt oppressive even at a distance.

It did bring images with it when he thought, of a woman with spots down the sides of her face and the unmistakable ridged face if the man he had met only recently. He turned back into the house and sat heavily on the chair.

The images wouldn't stop and the pain wouldn't go. Closing his eyes he used the threads of pain to find the man in the Nexus. Tommy's apparition appearing in the room through his ability to astral project. To the man before him it would appear as if Tommy simply walked into the room but he couldn't be touched.

"Why do you wail in pain?" He asks but the empty feeling in the pit of his stomach already has the answer.

[sonof_mogh]

The projection was a shock and Worf wasn't in the mood for shocks or surprises as he growled at the voice disturbing his grief. His mourning. The Klingon turned on the projection and felt violated at being discovered so weak and vulnerable. A warrior should never be faced without his armour! Worf's armour had peeled away leaving him naked and prone to attack due to his weakened emotional state.

"Leave me be! I--was not wailing! It--is an ancient Klingon ritual to announce a warrior into Sto'vo'kor. Our afterlife. A coward---murdered my mate!"

Worf snarled and picked up a chair throwing it at the wall opposite Tommy with force, strong enough to leave an ugly crack in the wall. The chair smashing into many pieces on impact. The Klingon howled once more, his grief consuming him and tearing at his warrior's heart.

[iamjustvisiting]

"My species makes the same sounds." They were higher pitched, much higher pitched but in purpose they were the same. Tommy knew it even if the words made little sense.

He is unphased by the madness around him, of broken things. Though Antheans didn't smash things he could understand the need. "My nephew's mate was killed recently by a cowardly enemy. He still wails some nights."

Tommy saw the witch bringing to bear her full power on an obviously weaker person as the way of a coward, as was the forced use if someone else to do what she should herself.

He stops, the projected presence staring and he frowned deeply. "I still have my own children to mourn. They died years ago."

[sonof_mogh]

"Your species? And what might they be?"

Worf growled the words out in annoyance but he knew this man's face since he had seen him at the Dawning. The tall, pale alien with strange eyes. The one with mind powers. Tommy was his name wasn't it? Worf wasn't thinking straight so instead he just slumped down into any chair that wasn't smashed into tiny pieces.

"How did they die? Your children?"

The Klingon was a little more subdued than before yet still the pain gnawed at him from inside. The primal anger still there waiting to snap like a taught rubber band. It hurt. Damn that Cardassian bastard! Yet, Tommy's children were dead. That was a burden none should have to carry.

[iamjustvisiting]

"I'm an Anthean though I can't look like my own people ever again." Tommy has his own burdens and his voice isn't as neutral as usual. There's a hint of disgust to it that he can't hide.

Tommy doesn't know but sitting down was better probably than smashing everything. The alien sighs and looks away. "There's a great drought on my planet. I came to Earth for water or help from the humans. I was imprisoned and they died while they kept me from leaving. My planet is nearly uninhabitable now and my people are rare."

Tommy didn't blame humans for his treatment but he did blame them for the death of his family. He couldn't hate, Antheans in general didn't but he held no fondness for general humanity any longer.

[sonof_mogh]

Anthean.

Worf did not understand the man's race but he did not care at this point. They had spoken once and that was when Worf was himself. When he was complete. A man who was happy because he had his wife back home on DS9. Now he was without her. Alone. Listening to Tommy's plight the Klingon sighed heavily.

"You are unfortunate and I am sorry for your planet. Tommy. I---just need time to get over the loss. She---Jadzia was everything to me. The bastards will pay."

Another loud, anguished-filled wail and Worf was glancing at the image of Tommy. A projection. The alien's mind abilities really were powerful enough so that he could project himself into someone's home.

"I am poor company right now."

[iamjustvisiting]

"I understand your need." Tommy did. He had memories of his own screaming in locked rooms or out in the desert.

It took a moment before the Anthean realized these were mourning cries and not anger. The emotions said they were the former.

"Then I will join you." Tommy let out a mind numbingly loud wail; high in pitch, airy and discordant.. at least to human ears. Who knew how an Anthean's strangely airy and high voice would sound to a Klingon.

[sonof_mogh]

Worf joined Tommy in wailing, although the Klingon's wailing was more of a gruff cry than the high pitched tone of the Anthean. Either way, most who lived close by would hear both men engaged in the wailing ritual of grief. It was a sight to behold if anyone actually walked into Worf's smashed up apartment. Coming down, Worf growled and punched the wall. Hard. Splinters of wood ended up buried in his hand but it he felt no pain. Another hole in his apartment's wall.

"Your scream---it felt good to hear. I feel your pain, Thomas. We may grieve together in our loss."

[iamjustvisiting]

"Felt your pain before I arrived." Tommy tells the other man. He isn't prone to these sorts of outbursts but he had them when he felt isolated. "How else do you grieve beyond cries of pain."

[sonof_mogh]

"You did?"

A telepath. Of course. Or empath. Either way, Worf wasn't in the mood to discuss which since he wasn't in the right mind to talk technical about anything. He was pissed off and angry. Emotional and unstable. As for what Thomas was asking of him, Worf sighed and sat on his bed, slumping onto it.

"By defeating my enemies in bloody combat. Rendering them useless with my blade piercing their heart or cutting off their cowardly head."

The words came out sharp, angry. As if he were directed them straight towards the bastard who killed his mate. Who killed Jadzia.

[iamjustvisiting]

"Yes."

Tommy swallowed hard at the discussion of so much violence but he understood the desire to be violent.

"I hope you're successful when you are in a better mind." He never wanted to cause violence but another species, like humans, were violent.

Late in the Night

[amartolosa]

Sin had been away in Chaos acting in an official capacity or she might have noticed sooner. She had a way of knowing when friends were suffering but as she relaxed in the villa it was something else she noticed, nightmares. They were hazy but after millennia beside Beelzebub she knew what that meant. A friend having nightmares while they were too intoxicated to wake themselves.

She put on whatever was around, it turned out to be a simple, red slip dress. This wasn't a social call but one of comfort. There was no reason to dress to the nines. Comfort for herself would be as important as the comfort she was to bring. It took only a moment to fly to where the Klingon lay passed out. She had sympathy for whatever it was he endured that troubled his sleep.

"Worf?" She spoke quietly so as not to startle him if he woke, her hand gently on his forearm in comfort.

Re: Late in the Night

[sonof_mogh]

Worf was laying face down on the ground with a metal mug close by his right hand which had rolled down the road and ended up in the nearest hedge. He had been drinking Bloodwine heavily and was now out cold. The grief had caused him to drink himself into oblivion since he had lost her. His mate, Jadzia. She had been taken from him cruelly and he had lashed out at everything in his apartment that looked at him. His front door was smashed in and the inside a total wreck. After getting smashed he had made his way outside where he passed out in the street.

The voice and hand on his arm startled him out of his sleep as he slowly groaned and moved his giant bulk of a body to sit up. Growling his pushed his mane of hair from his face and glanced to whoever was talking to him through his blurry vision.

"Ngh---who is this?"

[amartolosa]

She could almost feel the pain coming off of him as he woke though she didn't know why he felt it. She helped brush his hair away from his face. Though she had mostly assisted humans, this was something she had seen many times before. Pain driving someone to drink themselves into sleep.

"The Lady Amartolosa." She responds quietly. "I heard your nightmares and pain."

[sonof_mogh]

"You heard them? How is that possible?"

Worf was woozy-headed and very drunk. Also irritable and sought no desire for company at this point, yet he was laying on the floor close by his apartment. How he had got here was another story altogether. The Klingon attempted to stand in front of the Lady Amartolosa because a sitting warrior was weak and prone to attack. Worf was not weak.

Stumbling, he grabbed onto a nearby wall to help steady himself. Damn that bastard for killing her! Worf wanted to cut his heart out with a knife and feed it to the Targs. His whole body was wracked with grief. Was it possible he had wailed for hours unknowingly?

[amartolosa]

"I am an angel and am tasked with many things, including soothing nightmares." She tells him as he struggles to stand. "You are an acquaintance so it is easier for me to hear them."

She stands and is there to help him. She knows warriors can be stubborn and not want help. However, if he will allow her then she will get an arm around her shoulder and help him. "Come, let's get you to a real bed, darling."

[sonof_mogh]

An angel? Didn't he meet her at the Dawning celebration? Worf's mind was a fuzzy mess right now after getting smashed on Bloodwine. He did not want help but knew he would have to accept her help, otherwise he'd be sleeping on the cold ground all night. It wasn't exactly a very respectable thing to do.

"Very well. I do not need sleep since I am not tired. You are being helpful to me though."

He groaned as he felt himself be helped as he begrudgingly allowed himself to walk with the her back to his apartment. What was left of it, since he had smashed his door in and then many of his possessions. A Klingon's rage was never tempered.

[amartolosa]

"No, you aren't tired, darling." She laughs as she easily hefts his weight up to help him stand. "You're drunk and need a bed to lay on."

As for the destruction, nothing compared to her father losing his temper. There were still pieces at least and not just ashes or nothing at all.

[sonof_mogh]

Worf knew that he couldn't spend the night on the street so leaned into her arms, realising that she was indeed stronger than she looked. Even drunk, the Klingon was impressed with the angel's strength. His hair was a mess as he blew some strands from his face.

"A bed? Yes--perhaps. You are strong lifting me up like that. Not many can."

Even through his drunken grumpy state, Worf admired the way she sought to come and aid him where most would have left him to spend the night on the cold, stone floor. Still reeling with anger, he groaned slightly as his legs didn't want to work as well as he wanted.

"You seek to aid me. Why?"

[amartolosa]

"I'll throw you over my shoulder and carry you if I have to." She says with a smile and leaning her temple against his. She knows that will get him going and keep him walking.

"I'm an angel." She tells him. "My kind have always helped mortals... and you remind me of someone very dear to me, especially right now."

[sonof_mogh]

That got a loud and rather raucous laugh come from the Klingon as he held onto her more than he would likely admit. Looking weak in front of the angel would not be an honourable thing at all. The Bloodwine helping him to dive into a pit of grief but not helping his legs move.

"Mortals? You are...immortal?"

Worf wasn't really in the right state of mind to ask such complicated things since he was trashed. He just hoped no one else saw him being assisted back to his apartment by an angel. A woman angel at that. Yet, she reminded Worf of a Klingon woman with her strength and will. Yet, why did his wife have to die? Why?

"I still miss her---I will avenge her death!"

He growled viciously and then sighed. It was no point in getting angry now. It was over.

[amartolosa]

"I am. I've existed for billions of years." She tells him if only to keep his mind centered on the presence.

"You've lost someone?" She asks gently while stroking his back.

[sonof_mogh]

"Billions of years? I find that hard to believe that any life form could exist--"

He groaned because his head felt like a ship's bulkhead right now. Dull, thick and made of metal. How much Bloodwine had he drunk? Five bottles? Maybe more. He lost count. The angel's words causing him to growl under his breath.

"My wife. Jadzia. They---he---he killed her!"

Another deathly wail, piercing the night, echoing across the Plaza.

[amartolosa]

"My father is king of my species and created our universe." She tells the groggy Klingon while walking with him.

The wail was understandable and she sympathized with the pain in it. "Our kind think it is despicable to attack a warrior's family. Our enemy did that to my father and hurt a lot of our family."

[sonof_mogh]

"Then, he must be an honourable man to have a daughter such as you."

Worf glanced towards her with tears streaming down his cheeks but he was interested in her father and who she was, even through his drunken state. She didn't have to go out of her way to help him but she was doing so right now.

"The worst thing about---about it all was that she died without honour. The bastard shot her in the back. She didn't even have time to defend herself!"

Another wail threatened to escape his snarling lips but he held it in. She was well into Sto'vo'kor now. Amongst the honoured dead.

[amartolosa]

"Not all would think that way but I think he is a good king."

Sin was always honest with others, as were most of the angels.

"There are many among my people who would punish others for acting the way this murderer did." Her voice spoke strongly because she is among those who would punish for the murder of women.

[sonof_mogh]

He was a murderer. That Cardassian bastard.

Worf felt useless and did not want to think about the pain anymore. He was drunk and tired. But the pain still gnawed at him inside and would no go away. It would be a long process he knew this. Yet, Amartolosa's words caused him to look up from the floor and glance at her.

"How would your people deal with a coward who has no honour? Who cuts down someone's mate, stabbing them in the back."

That was the worst thing. Jadzia didn't even get a chance to defend herself in glorious combat.

[amartolosa]

She sat with Worf where he laid on the floor, close and there for comfort.

"We don't kill the worst of the dishonorable. Death is easy but we have ways of tormenting and cursing beings so that they regret their actions for eternity." She stroked his hair, brushing it away from his face while they spoke.

"I am gentle but I punish those who harm women and children senselessly." She smiles but there a dangerous cold to it. "I am the angel of dreams and nightmares. I like to let my uncle into people's minds when they deserve to suffer most."