@dcscrtcd
Weyoun had left Quark’s an hour in favour of wondering the promenade. Sisko and Dukat were still... arguing? Debating lively? He doubted they’d even notice him taking leave. Their presence had put him off Dabo, which while he enjoyed, knew they didn’t understand his love for the game.
He caught the tail end of a few discussions, ones about the Dominion/Cardassian alliance on the ships, a few insulting comments about him (but he got those every time he came), and just general discussions. He’d gotten a plate of gagh out of curiosity, the taste was less important, but he could see why people didn’t like it... it wriggled, and moved unpleasantly.
He passed by the infirmary again, before coming to a stop in front of the Cardassian’s shop- Garak’s, he remembered Dukat saying once. Weyoun tilted his head, stepping inside. The sounds of the promenade largely dropped off, muffled behind the door of the clothing store.
The allure of the clothes was strong (not that he could actually register that any of it looked nice, but the mild hope that the sense of aesthetics would click. Since coming to the Alpha Quadrant, that desire had only seemed more prevalent). It was everywhere; clothes, gardens, buildings... everything was built to taste. he reached out, running his fingers down one of the folded shirts on a stand, it had a most interesting feel to it. he reached out for another, the silky purple of the first replaced with a darker, more textured feel.
