#user: skrain400babiesdukat

[professortora]

Skrain picked up the charmed journal, running his hands over the cover of it, testing the leather for a chance to catch the warmth of her hand resting on it. He opens the book and takes out his quill, the light of a single candle illuminates the pages in the dark after hours of the Slytherin dormitories. He puts the pen to the page, still holding the spine in his other hand, warming the cover, in case she will feel his hand holding it, writing: 'I want to see you tonight...' (400babies) (v: HP)

Naprem is squirreled away in her bunk, pretending to study by wandlight. Really, she’s been holding the charmed journal to her chest, waiting to feel the heat of Skrain’s palm on the cover. As soon as his words appear on the page, she feels her heart flutter and her cheeks warm. She smiles, fingers curling against the cover, a thrill going up her spine.

‘And people call me the troublemaker,’ she writes, and she could swear she feels the tip of his quill resting on the page. ‘Don’t you have a Potions test tomorrow?’

@skrain400babiesdukat

#character: skrain dukat #user: skrain400babiesdukat #v: where dwell the brave of heart | hp au #ooc: queue

[professortora]

Post 8 Facts About Your Muse. Then Tag 8 People to Do the Same.

Naprem has a scar on her left eyebrow that was made to distinguish her as a non-violent (but persistent) troublemaker during the Occupation. It was deep enough to slightly chip her browbone, and occasionally aches when she’s frightened or nervous.

Naprem’s mother, Cebahi, was left by her own mother (Naprem’s grandmother, Esa) to be raised in a monastery. It was at this monastery that she met Naprem’s father, Vedek Sitka Tarr. Sitka was almost fifteen years her senior, and already married with children of his own. He met Naprem only twice, and never revealed his role in her conception.

As an ih’valla, Naprem was originally going to become a singer, and was classically trained. She can play several instruments and sings beautifully, but is terrified of performing. She doesn’t even like to be overheard singing if she can help it. She finds it excruciatingly embarrassing... with a single exception: she will always sing for her daughter, no matter how late at night or who can hear them.

Naprem’s hair was cut short during the Occupation - she keeps it short now mostly out of habit, and as a reminder of everything she went through. But once upon a time, she wore it long. (Though, even then she kept it up most of the time.)

After the public funeral rites at the camp where her mother died, Naprem started wearing a traditional gossamer mourning shroud over her head and hair. She still thinks of herself as being in mourning, and takes comfort in the act of donning traditional mourning garments.

Naprem is excellent at most strategy games including but not limited to chess, go, kotra, and - of course - kalevian montar. 

Because she worked as the Prefect’s personal aide on Terok Nor, Naprem had personal override codes to access most of the station, including the station archives and emergency protocols. These overrides still work, as the system encryption was only designed to lock out unregistered users; the secondary lockdown, which occurred as a result of Dukat’s actions in Civil Defense, only locked him out. The system currently recognizes Naprem as a system administrator which could allow her to override all executive functions of the main computer at any time. Mostly, she just uses it to access the station archives, which the Cardassians encrypted rather than wiping completely when they left.

Naprem is a huge crybaby. She frequently tears up or cries whenever she’s feeling “more” than usual - whether she be happy, sad, angry, or fearful. 

Tagged by: @drorah-walks

Tagging: @astralmedic, @defectivevorta-and-changeling, @infiinitepossibilities, @oftwoworldsandnone, @skrain400babiesdukat, @msgold63, @ltbroccoli, and i almost got to eight dammit

#people forget about her eyebrow scar all the time so im calling attention to it now #ooc: about #meme: response

[professortora]

50. what i should have said was nothing

Continued from here.

The pure, volcanic rage that bursts in Naprem’s chest is so hot she can barely form words. She’s halfway through getting dressed, and she’s so angry she can’t even finish.

“You--” She grabs a pillow off the bed, which is still warm and tangled from the night before. “How dare you! You are still married!” she shouts, throwing it at his chest. 

She’s trembling with anger, fighting the urge to screech. “You selfish-- hypocritical-- I have lived and died for you! I am the mother of your child! I have chosen you every day of my life for the better part of the last twenty years! And you haven’t chosen me once, except when you think I’m willing and ready to bedded!” Battle lost. She’s screaming, her voice bounding off the walls of the room. 

@skrain400babiesdukat

#50. what i should have said was nothing #this is log 50!!!! #we did it chica we climbed the whole mountain #character: skrain dukat #user: skrain400babiesdukat #v: as long as the stars are above you and longer if i may | good ending #the most ironically named universe

[professortora]

49. in the golden light of autumn

@skrain400babiesdukat

Naprem receives her own formal invitation to the celebration at the Jalanda Nature Preserve about two weeks beforehand. She hasn’t hired an assistant yet, which clearly comes as a shock to the governor of Hendrikspool – he asks her if she’ll be in attendance the way one asks your name when they know should already know it, which is to say: haltingly and with a large helping of embarrassment. She accepts mostly to relieve him of the burden of continuing to make a fool of himself.

She hadn’t been thinking about Berajin, to be quite honest – she’s been busy, for one thing, and for another, she’d anticipated the same weak-willed, forgettable celebrations that characterized the Occupation. It’s been so long since she celebrated it properly that she finds herself a little shell-shocked at the idea of finally going about it. But the brilliant colors of fall have arrived in Hendrikspool, and in lieu of any graves to visit, Naprem supposes that’s as good a place to be as any.

Naprem’s well aware that inviting Skrain to accompany her is in bad form. If she weren’t from the beginning, she surely would be by now; everyone she knows has seen fit to tell her, in excruciating detail, how ill-advised it is. But she’s made up her mind, and, what’s more, she’s already invited him, and disinviting Skrain Dukat from anything is frankly impossible. It would be easier to reverse the poles.

So, like most bad decisions she’s made in the past, Naprem turns up to accept the consequences right on time. Skrain beams down to the spaceport in Yurur, and she’s there to meet him, a new dress under her now-customary mourning shroud. She smiles when he appears, in spite of her better instincts.

“Gul Dukat,” she says. “Welcome to Bajor.”

#49. in the golden light of autumn #character: skrain dukat #user: skrain400babiesdukat #v: as long as the stars are above you and longer if i may | good ending

[professortora]

ATTENTION BAJORAN WORKERS

INDIE GUL DUKAT. MULTIVERSE. MULTISHIP.

RULES | ABOUT | ASK

#user: skrain400babiesdukat #character: skrain dukat #ooc: promo #promo by me

[professortora]

42. straight into you

She shouldn’t have run. She knows that -- she knew that when she did it. It’s Rule #1, dealing with Cardassians: don’t run. Never run.

Doesn’t really matter. She doesn’t regret it. She ran and she’d do it again. She deserved to feel that lean, clean wind in her for one last moment. She deserved the adrenaline, the exhilaration -- one last, fast run. 

They drag her in bodily -- iridium dust scoring her forearms and tracked up her leg and torso where she fell, knuckles bruised, forearms aching, lip swollen, face messy with blood and grime. The one she punched is grumbling, squeezing her arm tight like he’s expecting further struggle. His orbital is blackening, and he looks like he might burst into tears, even as they haul her through ops, up the steps to the Prefect’s office. The doors hiss open.

“Laborer #98719 to see you, Prefect,” the bruised one says, bitterly.

The first thing she notices is the swatch of dried blood on the floor. It’s a dark violet stain, like dried ink. They should’ve cleaned it -- why didn’t they clean it? What is this, she wonders -- some kind of intimidation tactic? Did they really not bother to clean it up?

The second thing she notices is the Prefect, who’s watching her from behind the desk.

This is it, she thinks. This is how it ends, for her.

Despite everything, despite the numbness in her body, the vague apathy that soaks her mind, she feels her heart seize with terror, as though it’s the only one of them who realizes what’s to come.

@skrain400babiesdukat

#v: daughter am i in my mother's house but mistress in my own | occupation era #42. straight into you #character: skrain dukat #user: skrain400babiesdukat #i am so excited #let's do this

[professortora]

40. baby daddy

Naprem should’ve known something was wrong as soon as she walked in the door and thought -- thought -- she might have smelled his cologne.

Naprem often thinks she’s smelled his cologne. It’s the only truly expensive thing he wears; a direct import from Italy, almost like eucalyptus but not quite. She has the strangest reaction to it -- one part annoyed, one part fear, one part nostalgic, one part maybe a tiny little bit aroused. After she left him, she used to think she’d smelled it all the time, but every time, she’d be wrong.

Maybe that’s why she disregards all the other signs -- the overturned candle on the table in the hall, the new scuffmarks along the wall from expensive leather shoes, the door to the den slightly ajar like some kind of invitation. She’s so used to ignoring any paranoid instinct that he might be close, and she’s tired. She’s been at the Congressional office all day, and her mind is crowded with thoughts from the day.

So, even though she should’ve seen it coming, when she walks into the den and finds Skrain Dukat on her couch, she almost has a heart attack.

“Skrain!” she shrieks. She grabs the door and closes it, firmly, dizzy with shock. “What are you doing in here?! How did you get in?!”

@skrain400babiesdukat

#40. baby daddy #verse: deep dish 9 #character: skrain dukat #user: skrain400babiesdukat

[professortora]

36. starlight, star bright

Continued from here.

Naprem looks from him, back up to the sky -- and then, like magic, the sky itself seems to open up. The color of it deepens, going from reddish-brown to deep magenta; the dark becomes darker, but the galaxy blooms into new life, stars blossoming anew into a river of gems that sweeps over the horizon and takes Naprem’s breath with it. She puts a hand to her chest, the other resting on her stomach, feeling her heart hiccup and squeeze with awe. It’s so beautiful it almost brings her to tears -- her eyes are hot and wet and she barely breathes at all, blown away. Her fingers curl in her clothes as she tries to hold herself in her body.

“Skrain...!” It’s so hard to talk -- she’s stuttering speechless, in awe. “Prophets,” she manages to gasp it. “Prophets, it’s...” She can’t possibly put it into words, she realizes, and she oughtn’t try. 

“Hevo’eta sheleya,” she murmurs. 

@skrain400babiesdukat

#36. starlight star bright #i got the number fully wrong lmao #character: skrain dukat #user: skrain400babiesdukat #v: as long as the stars are above you and longer if i may | good ending #just standing here like girl no #do not fall for this #sidenote i love when naprem uses untranslatable bajoran its kind of my favorite

[professortora]

🌟 (skrain400babies)

WARM AND FUZZY MEME!SEND AN EMOTICON FOR MY MUSE’S REACTION TO:

🌟 Your muse taking mine stargazing.

She’s surprised by how much she likes Cardassia Prime. Well, she supposes it’s not Cardassia Prime-Cardassia Prime. But Lakat City feels very authentic in holosuite form. The air is incredibly warm, even in the late evening, and oddly dry – she’s never in her life been anywhere so naturally arid. Even the dry air of the space station doesn’t truly mimic it; Lakat is as dry and hot as the red sand it stands on. 

The city itself is busy and crowded, even late into the evening. But on the dunes on the outskirts, their only company are the succulents and the stars. She’s sure that, were they on the real planet, Skrain would be much more wary of bringing her out here – but the holosuite affords them a perfect safety reality would not. 

She probably should’ve have refused him; she knows that. His attempts to woo her anew are transparent, and she should refute them outright, rather than let him think he’s winning her over. But if she’d refused him, she wouldn’t be standing here right now, sand bitterly hard against her bare feet as she gazes up into the ceiling of scattered diamonds that is the Cardassian night sky. A desert breeze rustles over the sand, lifting the sleeves of her robes and kissing her neck; she reaches up and brushes her hair back as it flutters over her forehead. She stares up into the night, feeling incredibly small, and encompassed, all at once – serene, at peace, one with the universe itself.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she says, a little breathless. “I’m sure I’ll spend at least one night on Cardassia Prime with the delegation. We could’ve gone then.” She glances back at him, trying not to blush. “Though, I suppose that presumes you’d have the time.”

@skrain400babiesdukat

#what number am i on now??? #34. starlight star bright #character: skrain dukat #user: skrain400babiesdukat #meme: response #v: as long as the stars are above you and longer if i may | good ending #anonymous

[professortora]

31. funhouse mirror

@skrain400babiesdukat

Waking up in hell used to be something Naprem did on a daily basis. Opening her eyes to find herself on the filthy floor of a Cardassian prison cell doesn’t break her, but it is alarming to say the very least.

She pushes herself upright – her arms are sore, along with the rest of her body, and she’s dizzy and disoriented. She doesn’t remember how she got here. The last thing she remembers is standing on the bridge of the USS Conquest with Skrain as they returned from the Alpha Quadrant, watching the Celestial Temple bloom open in front of them. They’d been talking about something – the thread of the conversation is lost to her, tangled on the other side of her mind where she can’t reach it. 

She looks around, standing on wobbly legs. The room is dimly lit and her voice feels raw. The smell of blood is giving her a headache. She’s naked under her prisoner’s garb.

This a dream, she thinks. But the pain feels real.

She pulls the thin cloth closer around her and peers out into the room, past the forcefield at the door of her cell. She’s too dizzy to call out.

#31. funhouse mirror #character: skrain dukat #user: skrain400babiesdukat #v: in the mirror stands your competition | mirror verse #somebody asked for mirrorverse ;) #im thinking this is set in good ending continuity #right before civil war? #or right after maybe... #naprem is ambassador #if its before the war she and skrain are just friends #if its after they're either engaged or married #up to you! #im good with either #just hit me back and lemme know what you think

[professortora]

17. the heat of the moment

After a few hours of angry pacing, angry muttering to herself, and angry nearly-throwing-dishes-against-the-wall, Naprem can’t justify postponing a visit to Odo any longer. An angry Cardassian would be problem enough -- an angry Skrain Dukat is a threat to station security if ever she heard one. From Odo’s, it’s a quick walk to the Emissary’s office in Ops. He makes her explain it all again, which has the predictable effect of working her into an even more furious lather.

Finally, the Emissary fixes her with a serious, uneasy look. He turns to Odo. “You think he may be on his way here, Constable?”

“I do,” Odo says with a curt nod. “From what Professor Tora’s told me, I think he intends to try and verify her identity for himself.”

“You told him we’d already conducted the requisite bioscans,” the Emissary says to her.

“Not in so many words,” Naprem says, struggling to conduct herself with grace as a venerable twister of rage whips through her chest. Her exhaustion has converted itself fully to a firestorm of anger that burns in her blood, making her fists shake. “But yes. I told him.”

Odo grunts and shakes his head, hands cupping his elbows as he folds his arms. “I don’t imagine he’ll be so easily convinced,” he says. “Gul Dukat’s obsession with Professor Tora is something that defies logic. I don’t believe our evidence would ever serve to convince him.”

The Emissary nods slowly, frowning. “So,” he says. “He’s on his way to the station. For what purpose?”

“I couldn’t say specifically, Captain. But I imagine he intends to verify Professor Tora’s identity, by whatever means necessary.”

“I agree,” the Emissary says. “Do we know his last location?”

“Near Cardassia Prime,” Odo says. “Which doesn’t leave us much time to prepare.”

Naprem wrinkles her nose in disbelief. “Cardassia Prime is almost five and half light years from here. Even at warp factor 8, it would take days for him to get here.”

The Emissary shakes his head. “Cardassian ships have gotten faster since your time, Professor.”

“And Gul Dukat isn’t at the helm of just any ship,” Odo reminds him. “He’s the commander of the Lothar.”

“That what?” Naprem asks.

“The Lothar,” Odo tells her, “is a one-of-a-kind Dreadnought-Keldor class war ship, capable of multiwarp speeds. We aren’t even sure how fast it’s capable of going, but it’s made the trip from Cardassia Prime several times -- all in within a few hours.”

Naprem feels like she’s just swallowed a rock. “Hours?” She tries to do the math in her head, but can’t. 

“How many hours has it been since you spoke to him?” the Emissary asks.

“About four,” Naprem says, with a sinking feeling.

“Then he could be here any minute,” the Emissary says, jaw visibly flexing.

“Hence why I brought it to you immediately, Captain.” Odo unfolds his arms to hold his hands behind his back. “I advise we go to red alert.”

The Emissary shakes his head. “It’s too soon for that. We have no idea what he wants. Putting the station on red alert could do more harm than good. But I agree, we should activate defensive countermeasures, just in case our friend Gul Dukat gets any ideas.”

“I’ll get my security team on it,” Odo nods. “In the meantime, I think Professor Tora ought to remain here with you, Captain.”

“I agree,” the Emissary says. “Good luck, Constable. I’ll expect you and Major Kira back here when you’re done.”

Odo tips his head in acknowledgement, and leaves.

“I don’t understand,” Naprem says as the Emissary stands from his desk. “How did Skrain gain access to that kind of technology?”

The Emissary’s nostrils flare, mouth twisting with distaste. “It was a gift. The woman who controlled Deep Space 9 for the past few years took a liking to him; when she left, she left the ship under his command. She was a brilliant technological mind. We have absolutely no idea what it’s capable of; how fast it can go, it’s defense and weapons systems... The only thing we do know is that it vastly exceeds anything the Federation has access to.”

They’re interrupted as Odo returns with Major Kira, who strides in through the office doors like she’s looking for a fight.

“Security teams are at the ready, Captain,” Odo says.

“Good,” says the Emissary. 

“Sensor readings are picking up a a disturbance,” Kira says. “We won’t be waiting long.”

As though summoned, Naprem sees the space outside the viewport twist and flex, going blue, then violet, then white so quickly that her eyes can barely register -- then, in a flash, the Dreadnought appears just beyond the habitat ring, a black monolith looming like a monster from Naprem’s darkest nightmares. The Emissary moves around his desk and they all hurry out into Ops.

“Open a channel,” he orders, and the Lieutenant keys it in. “Gul Dukat,” he says. “We weren’t expecting you.”

Naprem feels like a spotlight’s on her, like she’s center stage and has forgotten all her lines.

#17. the heat of the moment #character: skrain dukat #user: skrain400babiesdukat #v: as long as the stars are above you and longer if i may | good ending #since this is an au ill be playing a lot more parts than normal #ur not the only one who can write long starters lmao