Seeking Balance

[pronounsarehard]

Ezri sat down in her empty room, the door open and sat poised in front of a newly replicated keyboard. It was harder to ignore Joran now that she had gone through with the Rite of Emergence. He wasn't buried, and she had trouble suppressing him as deeply as Jadzia had. But maybe suppressing him wasn't completely necessary. Joran was a part of Dax whether she approved of his actions or not, and at least her training as a counselor told her that suppressing part of yourself wasn't healthy.

It was one thing embrace his actions, but there was nothing wrong with his skills as a musician--even if that talent most likely came from the same pool that made him an excellent killer. Exacting precision, patience and probably a bit of arrogance. The part of her that used to be Joran was almost sad that for so long he had been ignored. Dax hadn't been whole. Even now, as Ezri fought him.

So, Ezri released her grip, and let her fingers glide and press over the keys. It had been so long since Dax had played.

Comments

[truth_is_cold]

If anything the welcoming noise likely meant that he was in store for a touch of class.

A talent for death, properly directed, was something to be admired in Nietzschean eyes. Useless squandering of life, though, that was to be reviled. At least in Rhade's time and belief structure it was. It was complicated- to end an enemy out to end you had no guilt attached to it, as your life should come first. But to end someone merely as a gesture of strength or pleasure was moronic, removing something that could have improved and you could have improved alongside.

Joran's purpose might have been corrupt but his skill was something she could also keep, if for more positive defense purposes.

But that was a discussion for another day. Today was him wondering into meet his new roommate, peering in quietly and waiting for her to pause in her playing so that he didn't interrupt her. When the opportunity arose he spoke. "That's a wonderful composition. It's not familiar to me."

[pronounsarehard]

"I'm glad to have someone to play it for then. I haven't played in a while." The part of her that was still Joran appreciated the tact and civility Gaheris showed in waiting for her to pause, instead of interrupting. Some people wouldn't have shown such consideration.

"I composed it. One of my previous hosts did, over a hundred years ago. " It felt good to try and reach out to Joran, even if it scared her.She knew what Joran was capable of first hand, and how easy it was for her to slip into that as well. She was him, but she wasn't. And Joran was closer to the surface than he was for Jadzia. But it was still important for Dax to be whole again.

"I'm Ezri, Ezri Dax." She got up, sliding out of her seat before reaching over and offering him a hand."

[truth_is_cold]

"A host?" He sat near her.

"My mother was a musician. She sang opera. Unfortunately whatever musical genes she passed onto me only had relevance in my appreciation of good music; I am not talented in the slightest."

Which he did sound very depressed over- A Nietzschean shouldn't fail his parents, and he hoped the genes would reemerge in his offspring years later.