2021-01-05 12:52
sonof_mogh
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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.
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.
Re: Late in the Night
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?"
(no subject)
"The Lady Amartolosa." She responds quietly. "I heard your nightmares and pain."
(no subject)
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?
(no subject)
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."
(no subject)
"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.
(no subject)
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.
(no subject)
"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?"
(no subject)
"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."
(no subject)
"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.
(no subject)
"You've lost someone?" She asks gently while stroking his back.
(no subject)
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.
(no subject)
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."
(no subject)
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.
(no subject)
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.
(no subject)
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.
(no subject)
"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."