a characteristic trait of the trill is their aversion to heat, and yet jadzia has never felt so uncomfortably, bone achingly freezing in her life. she’d almost died, but the cold sometimes makes her wonder if she’s really alive… there’s no warmth to be had in the whole of the universe. and it’s quiet, it’s so quiet that it’s suffocating, even at @colnerys’ voice — impassioned over something jadzia hadn’t heard amidst the silence — there’s an undeniable feeling of isolation, “you almost died.” knees pulled to her chest, gaze focused on the stars outside, the trill wonders why kira’s pointing it out… again. maybe it’s the fact that jadzia hasn’t left her quarters in days, that she’s refused to answer her door or talk to anyone, but that’s just vague supposition. after a moment, eyes shift to stare blankly at nerys, a frown on her lips.
“i know, i was there,” there’s not even annoyance coloring the emotionless reminder — like her heart had gone with dax, leaving only the faintest echoes of the passion she’d once embodied. “there’s no fixing this, kira. i’m never going to be myself again. to be honest with you? i think i did die… all i am now is a shell of jadzia dax, you shouldn’t waste your time on a ghost.” she’s tired; she’s so tired, and yet there’s no rest to be had. jadzia simply exists, and maybe she should feel encouraged at the heat that rises with every word, but she’s not. she’s not anything really. “i can’t do my job, i can hardly remember our relationship, and i’m so alone. there were eight other lives that were a part of me,” each host and dax themselves, and she misses them all desperately, “and now they’re gone — and i went with them — do you have any idea what that feels like? because i truly doubt that you do,”
