[network|log] @Quark; you better work; Night 150 [open network | closed log]

[averytinyparticle]

[Quark had done his best to get the entirety of his panic attack out before addressing the network. If he had a choice, he wouldn’t be doing this at all—but he doesn’t. When he was dying, he could pick and choose who he told before his name showed up on the obituary. Now, he needs all the help he can get, from anyone who he can get it from. He let himself cry and scream and panic when he woke up in a body bag, when he fell out of it onto the stone cold floor, and most of all when he discovered what he’d lost. It took him until pretty late into the night before he thought he had a reign on his emotions.

But then he opens his mouth, and all the fear bubbles up again unbidden, choking his words and making them tearful. Every breath of air he takes makes him feel like he’s dragging.]

It’s Quark. I’m back but I—I really need help. I’m at the chapel, can somebody please come get me? I can’t—can’t—

[He takes a deep, shuddering breath.]

I can’t walk.

Comments

[averytinyparticle]

I think so. Thanks, Mr. Enoch.

[Quark takes a deep breath, trying to stop letting his emotions get the better of him. He can’t deny that it’s nice to hear that voice again. Enoch’s always been good at calming Quark down when he’s upset.]

I missed talking to you.

[warriorscribe]

As did I. I admit I haven't been using this tablet as much as I used to. I have no excuse for losing touch with you. I'm sorry.

[He feels somehow, as always, that maybe he might have been able to provide guidance to prevent this. He doesn't quite know how, but it is his way, to take the blame if he ever can.]