James Tiberius Kirk (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
universal_charm) wrote2022-05-01 11:32 pm
universal_charm) wrote2022-05-01 11:32 pm
Entry tags:
Kirk x Thor CRAU
Waking up felt different. Not the act of waking up, per say, but the way it felt. His head ached, and rather than being against a pillow it was against something much harder. And not a pleasant kind of hard either. Cold. Smooth. Metallic.
Metallic..
His brain tripped into high gear, the lizard senses finally getting through the musty fog to try and get him to participate in some form of self preservation. A necessary skill in Hell. He groaned and worked himself into a better sitting position, discovering he was in a seat - a rather comfortable one, forming to his body, ergonomic style. Lights floated in his vision, some on and off, a blur of words dashing across the front of what he assumed to be a screen.
Okay. Focus. Do this. He squeezed his eyes and rubbed, taking a few slow breaths and trying again. The words cleared and came into focus. He rubbed his eyes again all the same, then again, before cursing under his breath. Because this wasn't possible, was it? Or was this another trick from their nefarious overlord?
The words on screen were input protocols. On an emergency vessel. For Star Fleet. His fingers itched to type in his codes, still engraved into his bones after all these years in Hell, but he hesitated. What if this was a trap? His eyes refocused to the view of the stars beyond the words on the screen, and then his own reflection. His hands slapped at his forehead, running over smooth skin. No horns. His hair was properly cropped and fluffed in Star Fleet approved styling.
What if...? People did get set somewhere else, didn't they? James had. Many others too. What if this was it? Licking his lips, he let his fingers peck at the keyboard, slowly finding their rhythm as he typed in the codes and security encryptions, preparing a signal to send out for pickup. Hopefully someone was in the area...
He paused when the confirmation came up.
Two life signs?
Here?
Gasping, he turned sharply in the chair and sprung up, letting out a choked sound of surprise.
"THOR?!"
Metallic..
His brain tripped into high gear, the lizard senses finally getting through the musty fog to try and get him to participate in some form of self preservation. A necessary skill in Hell. He groaned and worked himself into a better sitting position, discovering he was in a seat - a rather comfortable one, forming to his body, ergonomic style. Lights floated in his vision, some on and off, a blur of words dashing across the front of what he assumed to be a screen.
Okay. Focus. Do this. He squeezed his eyes and rubbed, taking a few slow breaths and trying again. The words cleared and came into focus. He rubbed his eyes again all the same, then again, before cursing under his breath. Because this wasn't possible, was it? Or was this another trick from their nefarious overlord?
The words on screen were input protocols. On an emergency vessel. For Star Fleet. His fingers itched to type in his codes, still engraved into his bones after all these years in Hell, but he hesitated. What if this was a trap? His eyes refocused to the view of the stars beyond the words on the screen, and then his own reflection. His hands slapped at his forehead, running over smooth skin. No horns. His hair was properly cropped and fluffed in Star Fleet approved styling.
What if...? People did get set somewhere else, didn't they? James had. Many others too. What if this was it? Licking his lips, he let his fingers peck at the keyboard, slowly finding their rhythm as he typed in the codes and security encryptions, preparing a signal to send out for pickup. Hopefully someone was in the area...
He paused when the confirmation came up.
Two life signs?
Here?
Gasping, he turned sharply in the chair and sprung up, letting out a choked sound of surprise.
"THOR?!"