universal_charm | Entries tagged with luceti

[ For the past week or so, since coming back from the Draft, Kirk had been wondering what to do with what he had brought back from there besides the nasty feeling crawling up and down his spine almost every moment of the day. He had brought back dog-tags he had snatched off one of the sacrificed bodies, rubbing across the damaged names and possible dates. They were hard to make out, and he wished he could read them better, but he couldn't.

And somehow, in the deepest hours of the morning, he figured out what he would do. So he got up, tugged on his boots and got a few items to stuff in a small pack, and headed out into the nearby woods, painfully aware that said woods would never be haunted by Katniss again. Or, maybe they would, but no guarantee it was the Katniss he knew, had come to care for. Another dagger of sadness slid through him, making him blink rapidly as he trekked his way slowly, looking around until he found the perfect tree with the perfect crook, sunlight peeking through branches and smattering the forest floor.

He sat down, gathering up some broken branches and twigs, binding them together with string he had in the small pack, making something of a cross. It wasn't that he was particularly religious, by the shape was easy to stand in the ground and let it hold, easy to drape the tags over, happy to see that, through his guess, some time during the day they would get sunlight. It wasn't much. Some might call it pitiful. But this place was quiet, peaceful and even beautiful if you ignored the fact that if you walked long enough you'd run into a wall. But it was better than what those poor people had at the end, and far less than they rightly deserved.

Slowly he turned on the camera to the journals, letting his face linger for a moment before he turned it to show the tiny memorial he had made. ]

I don't know if anyone wants to, but... I put this up here. It's not far in, and I'll write out better directions later. But if you want to say respects for those people, and I wish I had even a name for one and I don't, but if you want to - well, you can do it here. Or yell at it, I guess, or what it is you feel you need to do or your culture says you should or your religions.

I just don't want what happened to them to be forgotten.

[ And with that the Captain signs off and sits for a little longer, paying respects to people he still believed they should have done more for. ]

So, I want an honest opinion:

Does it make you a failure if you wake up the day after your birthday without a hangover? I feel like I have somehow failed my generation and age bracket by not having this be the case.

Voice // Filtered from Spock

[ For a minute, Kirk sits there, tapping his fingers against his chin, as if debating how best to open this with as he stares at the world through the little window of the journal. ]

All right, since there's no handbook on etiquette for this stuff I guess I'll just get right to it.

Do not give chocolate to Spock. I repeat, do not give chocolate to Spock.

Probably should have told everyone this earlier, but we were all a bit preoccupied, and I'm getting to it now so better late than never, right?

I repeated, do not give Spock chocolate. That is all.

[ So, hopefully, you guys with brains will run with that and actually listen to it, and the rest, well, he'd have to hope Spock was in a state of mind to refuse said chocolate. Otherwise... well, best to keep that in his own head, thanks. ]

Action // Stable (and Town)

[ Kirk had been spending more time in the stables, mostly because he had come to think he was bonding with this one dapple that Loki said he might be able to learn to ride on. It was an archaic skill, but it seemed to work out for the best here, so he should try it. In the mean time, he was working on bribing the dapple to behave for him with treats. Carrots usually, sugar cubes now and then, but mostly carrots.

He had held out his hand to give the horse another carrot - and promptly yelped, jerking his hand back and looking at the rapidly reddening and somewhat green-slime coated digits. Oh, and the throbbing. There was that. This body wasn't very good at blocking pain still. He glared up at the horse. ]

You're a dick, you know that?

[ Not that it was really the animals fault, but it made some of his pain ease as he turned to try and find some bandages. And baring any being in the stables, well, guess it was back to the town for some mild medical attention. Please, lord, don't let him run into Bones... ]

[ ooc: for the action, find him in the stables, or on his way to the town for some medical attention! ]

[ Was it just him, or were there a lot of new people around lately? A lot of new people without wings? Was this another trick of their keepers? Was it supposed to taunt them somehow or was it some experiment gone wrong? Were they rejects? Though he wasn't sure if that made these guys lucky or not.

He was curious, but not enough to really break from his daily routine if he didn't have. He would go to the Battledome in the morning to do his workout, which had gotten progressively more intensive over the past several months as he recovered from his little brush with death. He wasn't quite up to snuff yet, but he was beginning to put on fighting weight, which was a good thing in his book.

He'd pop into the coffee shop after for a drink before going back to the house he occupied with his crew. Instead of going in, however, he kept outside on a tarp, where he had a motorcycle Luke had given him, acquired from Lupin. It was way more vintage than he was used to, but he was finding the challenge of repairing and upgrading it mentally invigorating, and he enjoyed getting his hands dirty. Even better.

If he wasn't at the bike, he was going back to the library to find books on motorcycle mechanics. It never hurt to have a second opinion on the matter, after all, and he wanted the thing to work, not just sit there and look pretty.

Eventually, once night rolled around, he would pop himself over to Good Spirits, though he did his liver a favor and kept away from the booze and stuck to soda instead. It wasn't what one usually went to Good Spirits for, but it was better than being tucked away at home, since sleep wasn't a thing he was fond of right now. So he'd just sit here till he was nearly to tired to go home. ]

This post to be used for mistletoe shenanigans running Dec. 26 - Jan. 1st for anyone who does not want to do so in the log and/or the log starts using captchas!

Kirk is open to all versions of shenanigans, simply specify in your subject!

[ There's a surprise for Kirk on the morning of the Eleventh of December. That surprise? All his pants are gone, replaced with skirts of a questionable length. He handles the not all to foreign objects with something between being peeved and wanting to acknowledge it was kind of a funny prank. Except now it wasn't, because he wanted to get dressed and go walk.

To bad that he couldn't find his own pants, though, and any he tried to put on that weren't his simply wouldn't... well, go on. It was like an invisible wall came up whenever so much as a toe came near the legs of the pants and he couldn't get a single digit or even hair in. The only thing he could wear? The skirts of questionable length (however stylish they were if he was any judge of women's fashion). He was beginning to suspect magic trickery now, though he didn't know if that was Malnosso doing or someone else (and he didn't want to get his hopes up it was the someone he thought would do this...).

So for the first day (the 11th), he decided to for once make Bones and Spock happy at the same time and remain around the house, puttering about in his skirt because that was somehow less embarrassing than trotting about in his underwear.

The next two days, though, he couldn't bear it, and found something of a way around the skirt - wearing a very long coat. It did leave one to wonder why it was the dear Captain was exposing his legs to the winter weather when he was outside (trips he did indeed try to make short, or keep away from the main portion of the town. He was a confident man, but even he could have his limits). ]

[ ooc: The Prankening has begun! For Dec. 11, 12, and 13 Kirk has no choice but to wear miniskirts thanks to the one and only Loki! December 11 he will spend all of the day inside, so you have to come visit him to get a peak, but 12, and 13 he will venture a pit outside, though he will be avoiding places like the town center, but might dip in really quick to get a coffee or something from the grocery and pray no one stops him. But we all know you will, right? ]

I know this is coming kind of late, so sorry about that, but you just have to be sure, you know? I didn't want to write her off and cause a panic or have that stupid kid give me the look for a week...

But... yeah, I'm pretty sure Arya Stark has gone home, and Nymeria with her.

[ There's obvious sadness on his face and his voice, though he's trying to do his manly and captainly best and hold it back. But, he had cared for that little girl. She was such a tomboy, and he had even grown to like Nymeria, even if he had to clean her fur off the couch twice a day or else he'd be as furry as she was.

The house was just... emptier now. Like part of his crew was gone, an empty chair not yet filled on his deck. It hurt. ]

[ Kirk, like a lot of other people in Luceti at the moment, was still reeling some from the emotions and memories of the Valley. More than anything, this had probably been the cruelest trick, regardless if it had been carried out by the Malnosso or anyone else. Kirk didn't tend to differentiate
between them. People had gone home, so why didn't they all?

But he didn't have much care for such thoughts, working on trying to get his body to accept that no, no one was going to be beside him on the bed when he woke up. No, there was no boy waiting in another room of the house, waiting for a good breakfast and to go to school. He was not a family man. He was not a dad. He was not a husband-to-be. He was not a simple mechanic who worked on bikes. He was none of those things...

And God, how that hurt.

Not that he hated what he was, but he had liked what he had been too. It just made his head ache and his mind reel all the more. It didn't help he had never been particularly good at examining his own emotions, and for the first time he wished he could be like Spock, and just shove it all aside...

Damn it, he needed to just be up and doing something. And he could already hear Spock and Pike's counsel in his head, so he reached for the journal, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to figure out what to say...]

( Filtered to Katniss )
[ That done, he shifted, wondering what to do next, but really he needed to work out the energy. His best therapy was physical movement, making his muscles ache and his chest burn because it focused him. Luceti wasn't much in offering up ways of mental stimulation, at least ones he was interested in.

So, he made another call... ]

( Filtered to Steve )

[ And now the waiting game.

Well, while he waited, he would get up and head out, making his way through the town, his hands in his pockets as he considered the town anew. It felt strange, walking through it, because he kept expecting to see picket fence homes and streets. He kept expecting to hear children laughing or the roar of an ancient car (well, ancient to him anyways, not in that era). His hands itched to be worked on a bike again, missing the Panhead despite himself. ]

Damn it, this place just keeps getting deeper under my skin...

[ So, Luceti, have a captain hailing you through the frequencies at an hour that may or may not be respectable, but he's not asleep when he should be, his mind is whirring, and these are the things he thinks of asking when he has trouble sleeping. ]

So, does anyone have any empty beer bottles, beer cans, or soda cans laying around? I want to try something. Uh, you can just drop them off at my place if you want, no need to hand them off in person. Just don't throw them through the windows, k? I don't want Nymeria chewing on them.

I'm... not sure she actually would, but I don't want to get blamed if she gets sick.

[ Seriously, you ever had a girl with Arya's spunk and little glare angry at you? Not fun.

And in the mean time, he'll rattle of his house number for anyone who actually wants to get up and drop off said items at this hour.]

[ The past week had been very trying with Spock back, for a number of reasons. Not that he hated having Spock back, of course, but it was an adjustment, and was turning into a personal learning experience.

For one, he was fast figuring out that he was not meant to be a nursemaid of any kind. He didn't have the patience for it, or the beside manner - especially against a Vulcan. Of course he did it though, because Spock needed him too and he wasn't the sort to leave a friend hanging out to dry. But, yeah, sometimes it just made him realize how glad he was his career had turned out the way it had and that he kept far, far away from med bay.

Besides nurse maiding, he was having constant headaches. He figured it was from the link he shared with Spock. In his absence, he had loosened his shields - at first in a attempt to continue to feel for the link, faint with Spock being away from their little bird cage. And now that he was back, he was forgetting to keep himself closed to it. It made for pounding temples, and a part of him knew he would need to start meditating again to gain control.

For the moment though, he had a bit of time free, Spock wanting to meditate, and that being something Spock could do on his own without aid from Kirk. He was fairly sure Nymeria and Arya should be home soonish, but even then he didn't plan to be gone long. Just run some errands, get some air, and come on back.

That being the case, Kirk could be found at the general grocery store, picking up quite a few vegetables to acommodate Spock's return and his dietary choices, sitting by the fountain to enjoy some coffee in the hopes it would ease some of his headache, and a bit later, after checking on Spock, he can be seen working out in the battle dome using the forms he had been taught from his numerous teachers, which had actually started producing an interesting, if somewhat crude, mix style (which was currently being thrown at a sand-filled dummy rather than his usual holo partner). ]

( Locked to Arya, Emil, and Spock - 90% Unhackable )

[ All of that done, it was time to go and run some errands and fill up his day - which suddenly seemed a bit harder than it should.

He could at least start by really getting back into his workout. It had kind of gone wonky the last few weeks. Don't even get him started on the last weekend. He could still hear that odd speech pattern in his head and it made him wince. How? How had anyone put up with that? And he had been posing, hadn't he? He was sure he had, because he remembered looking at himself in the mirror... and no. Nope. Not going there. He was going to the battle dome now and he was going to make use of it. He spent the morning working out against simulations and doing resistance training, the release of exercise endorphines sending a nice, happy tingle through him.

Eventually, he had to stop though and get some real errands done - which basically meant the grocery story because somehow that had become his job when it came to feeding two grown adults, a teenage girl, and a wolf the size of a pony. Seriously, you try telling that thing what it can and cannot eat. If it wants to eat, it eats. Which meant grocery shopping and hauling it all back.

But even with doing that, it left an afternoon partially open, and he wanted to do something new. And what might that be? Well... why not go to the barn? He knew they had one and had horses (it made sense since they had ponies, right?), and while he had never really been much of an animal person, it might not be a bad idea to become acquainted with another potential forms of transportation after all. That in mind, he headed that way, with a pocket full of carrots. Horses like carrots, right? ]

( Locked to Emil, Spock, and Arya )

[ Action ]

[ Regardless of the kids' answers, he's heading down to down today, dressed simply in jeans, boots, and a shirt. It felt kind of weird, given the big fight that had gone down, but he wasn't one to cower or keep worrying. Besides, it wouldn't exactly set a good example for the kids living with him (and he sincerely hoped Spock would magically pop back into his usually tall self very soon, because he did not enjoy being glared at by a tiny Vulcan and getting kicked in the shins and not being able to rightly kick back). So he went down today, trying to be normal about it all and headed down to see if any of the shops were back to regular business.

He would go around picking up food for a camping trip - canned when he could find it, jerky too, some nuts and candies to make trail mix. He needed other things too, like some small pots and utensils. Oh man, he'd need to get Spock some camping clothes too wouldn't he? The kid couldn't wear what he usually did.

This was going to be harder than he thought, and he already had a lot in his bags, scratching his head as he went to the clothing shop to try and guess at Spock's sizes, poking through the children's section for some boots and pants. He didn't even dare try and think of things to get Arya. That just seemed like a bad idea all around, mostly because he wasn't sure how'd she take it.

As a last thought, he stopped by the library, trying not to make to much noise with the stuff in his bags, though it was a harder task than one might think as he aimed for the non-fiction section and reference materials.]

[ video ]

[ Kirk's face appears in the journals, distant, cold - at least for the Captain. His head had been itching all morning, and all day yesterday, waiting, hoping it was just Spock needing alone time, but...]

Spock's been kidnapped, so, if you had anything planned with him for the next week... well, going to have to put it off. Sorry.

[ How does he know? Well, that's for him to know and you to pry out of him. But that's his message for everyone, and perhaps it's more of reassurance for himself, though he doesn't like it, not one bit. He ends his message there, though. He'd answer questions about it later, if there were any

Though how to explain to Arya what this was, and that it could happen to him or her or anyone if someone hadn't done it already. Fun.]

[ action ]

[ Kirk can't abide sitting around and moping. It's not him, even though a part of him wants to. First the draft and now this? Sure he had been told it wasn't really the Malnosso's fault, but who else do you blame for this? He wished he could wrap his hands around one of their throats and squeeze and squeeze until the life was out of them, but that wouldn't accomplish much, and he'd probably get in trouble with the Fleet for it, wouldn't he?

Since his favorite option wasn't really an option, he voted for some physical exercise instead.

Sweats on, he went out for a jog around the edges of their little village and then back in through the streets. The burn kept his mind sharped and focused without letting it drift to places it should not. Like... no, no don't go there. He and Spock had talked that out and he wasn't supposed to go there. Sweat dripped down his face and neck, staining his shirt, and he kept pushing until his legs gave and he collapsed by the fountain, gasping for air between dunking his face into the water. He would worry about possible sanitation concerns later.

Later, he would find his way into the Battle Dome, calling up a simulation. He didn't want to bother any of his friends/teachers for a lesson at the moment, preferring to pummel his opponent with the private bubble of his own rage. He keyed his opponent as one of his well remembered bar thugs (and might have born a bit of a resemblance to a certain crew member on his ship with the endearing nickname of "cupcake"). Out of old habit now his arms were rising into the defense postures he'd learned from people like Steve and... and Zevran, feet shuffling into position. One breathe, another, go in for the strike....

If you didn't catch Kirk there, they'd probably find him later, sitting outside Buffy's bar with a beer in hand. He wasn't prone to drinking when upset, or at least he was trying not to be, but neither did he want to be in there, around... around people or huddled in a corner. So he sat outside in crispe air, taking slowly draughts from a brown bottle and looking up at the sky and suddenly cringing, recalling another guy's rather gut churning revelation - those stars were fake, a simulation for their benefit.

And because he felt like being petty in that singular moment, he tossed his hand up, middle finger raised in defiance. It was small, but it made him feel a little better, at least.]

[ ooc: respond to Kirk via the journal, or catch him jogging around town, at the Battle Dome, or out drinking in the evening. ]

[ The image presented on the screen shows a Kirk that looks like he probably just got up. He doesn't have enough hair for it to look to messy, but somehow it manages it, and his eyes look bleary. He runs a hand over his face and sighs. ]

Okay, how badly do you need therapy when even you have to admit that you need therapy?

[ Hey Luceti. Have this guy's handsome mug on your screens this morning, you know, if you're tuning and he hopes a lot of you are. Because why would you not? It's Kirk. His ego felt that big today, and was the exact same size as the smile on his face with those pearly whites and overabundance of charm.]

So, based on the idea people celebrated Christmas, I am betting that Valentine's day is up there too? Which just sounds great if you ask me. And if you don't know what Valentine's day is, let me run it down -

It's a time to celebrate not being single. Though, if you are single, you are free to call it "Singles Day", but that's kind of sad so I would advise against it. Depression inducing, that one.

But back to my real question. Who would like to be my Valentine on the special day, hmmm? I promise you flowers, a nice cooked meal, my attention all day, and chocolates if I can find them. Or whatever it is you would like that way. I'm a gentleman, after all ~

[ And with that he ends his little announcement and heads out of his house and into town. It'll make him easier to find, won't it, and it's always easier asking these sorts of things in person. So you could find him wandering through several of the shops in town, mostly groceries, stopping in at Buffy's bar for a drink and a snack (and maybe to hit on some people, you never know), and rounding it all out with a workout at the Battle Dome. Between his myriad of teachers, he was actually getting pretty good at the simulations.

And maybe, just maybe, you might catch him working at the Kobayashi Maru - because it was his kryptonite, or maybe his drug. It was hard to tell at times.]

[ Okay, Kirk felt kind of stupid for asking this, but Luke said it was real, and if the magic monk said so well...]

Okay, so, I hear there are these... spirits, I guess, that if you meditate they can teach you things - like healing or making things explode.

[ Maybe not technically correct on that last part, but whatever.]

So, I'm interested in learning some healing. I'm no medic like McCoy, and a bandaid doesn't always get the job done. Anyone want to help me find this spirit? You know, on the grounds that I don't sound like a loony bird talking about this.

[Really, he was doing this because of Spock. He himself had been so torn up after he got thrown back in the bird cage. Would Spock be any better?]

[Filtered to All His Male Buddies - Which Is Basically Anyone He's Ever Talked To, but LOL this is so Hackable, He's in a Sloppy Mood]

All right, so, I figure it's time to get some defense training under my belt. I can handle myself in a bar brawl, but by the sounds of things like this 'draft', I'd like to last more than 10 minutes. I'm more or less fully recovered from my little visit with our keepers, so... anyone got time to put me through the paces?

And not break me, mind.

[/filter]

[And with ALL of that done, Kirk decides he should at least start some of the training himself. He was slowly getting back into shape after that six weeks with the Mollies, and he supposed he should be glad his muscles hadn't atrophied entirely. So he worked himself into the closest thing to work out attire he could find (still weird with those wings, would he ever get used to them?), and headed out of the apartment to start jogging through the town.

What? He's a social work-out kind of guy.

Just... ignore the puffing. Yeah.]

[ Okay, this sucked. This really, really sucked. To be quite honest he wasn't very sure how long he had been locked up and poked and prodded, but it was long enough and he had never been quite so happy for fresh air and trees. He just hated that he was jumping at every little crack and tweet. He hadn't been this twitchy since... well, he couldn't remember. Maybe his first big storm, but what did it matter? He was twitchy, but wouldn't you be after being held captive for so long?

And he was seriously out of shape if this jaunt through the wood was making him pant and sweat. He gulped, aching everywhere, and pretty sure that his already bruised up body would not thank him for this later. In fact, it was not thanking him now. It was violently protesting, and he finally gave him and found a place to ease himself down and sit.

He thought it must have been some sort of cruel mercy that his captors had given him back his journal-thing when he woke up inside the forest of his original birdcage. He glared at it for a minute as he tried to remember how to turn it on, and finally got it going, so a little image of him appeared to whoever was listen. ]

So, contrary to what I assume is popular belief, I'm not dead. But, uh, could use some help making it all the way home, you know? I'm sitting in the woods, hugging a tree, so come and find me. I don't plan on moving any time soon.

[ He doesn't think he looks to bad to others, at least. He has a few bruises around his jaw and nose, but otherwise does not seem overly harmed. Though the bruises are a lovely shade of blue and green at this point. ]

[ooc: Yup, he's back from kidnapping!! With a little side-effect: his flirt skills are going to be seriously cramped for a bit, since anytime he sees a girl, he'll get physically ill. Don't take it personally ladies.]

Okay, is it just me... or are there a lot of grumpy, hungry people coming back into our happy little village lately? Anyone want to go over that with me?

[It was probably explained in the guide, but truth is he skimmed it more than anything. He's a learn it by doing it sort of guy, not learn it by reading a text book.

And he may or may not be walking around town, his little canary yellow and black wings fluttering behind him, getting more familiar with the town and basically just trying to make sure he knew it by heart. You never know what's going to happen, right? So he had better know his way around for sure and not just be guessing at it. So, just ignore the Enterprise captain as he stares down alleys or at shops, looking for markers that will pop up quickly later when he can't afford to stand around wondering which way to go.]

Profile

James Tiberius Kirk

May 2024

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Page Summary

Gone But Not Forgotten [ Action / Video ]
One Year Older, Maybe Not Much Wiser [ voice; ]
We're Running Low on PSAs [ voice > filtered from Spock / action ]
4th Wall Breakage
Mistletoe Shenanigans
Who Wears Short Skirts, I Wear Short Skirts! [ action over Dec. 11, 12, + 13 for THE PRANKENING ]
Sad Tidings [ Video ]
Damage Control [ Filtered + Open Action ]
[ Voice ] Don't Mind the Ingredients, Look at the Cake
I'd Do Anything For Love, But I Won't Do That
Let's Try This Again [ Action + Locked Voice ]
A Change of Scenery [ Voice + Action ]
8th World: Ramifications [ Video / Action ]
7th World: [ voice/video ] A Question of the Mind
Be My Valentine~ ;) [ video / action ]
A Most Un-Scientific Question [ video/audio/action ]
World 03 - Returning to Normal Space [ Action / Audio ]
World 02 [ video/action ]

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