Don't believe in no-win scenarios

General Text Overflow/PSLs

Thu, 26 Mar 2026 15:34:46 GMT

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Balder's Gate 3 PSLs/Overflow

Tue, 08 Apr 2025 01:30:04 GMT

Onward to adventure, whether you like it or not!

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Veilguarding - an open post for DAV AU shenanigans

Sat, 22 Mar 2025 21:15:44 GMT

It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it. Masterpost for Dragon Age Veilguard AU overflow + psls

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The Academy AU for sensors

Tue, 28 Jan 2025 23:08:19 GMT

The night Sam Kirk walks into the Kirk family farmhouse his little brother throws a fucking beer bottle at his face. He misses. If he'd hit, the next several years might not have happened.

( Jim is twenty years old and his life is a fucking mess. )

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Infiltration

Mon, 28 Oct 2024 14:57:39 GMT

Jim blinks.

He's been locked in his own processors again. How long has it been? He turns his auditory sensors back on and immediately wishes he hadn't.

"How fucking hard is it to get a goddamn order right when there's hardly any people sticking around this shithole?" A receipt is being waved in front of his face. Jim has been standing here, shoulders slumped, and completely tuned out while looking appropriately browbeaten while the reporter he's supposed to be assisting complains about the status of his breakfast sandwich.

Jim had pretended to be surprised when his 'boss' had insisted on going to Jojobeans himself for his morning pick-me-up instead of sending Jim out for coffee. Had pretended not to know the ulterior motive the reporter had. Had pretended not to feel smug knowing his contact would never show as he was busy decaying in his precious holiday home. No sign of forced entry. No fingerprints to find. A heart attack, nothing more.

He looks down at his hands.

~~Bloody. Streaked with soot and flakes of burnt flesh.~~

Jim blinks again.

Perfectly clean. Wringing in a human expression of discomfort. Curious how his subroutines are working to keep him blended in even when he's...

Malfunctioning.

He was built to walk among them. He is broken, now. But even a broken machine can still serve some purpose.

"We've still got an hour before your first interview of the day." Jim says. "I'll go to the usual spot and get you something."

Does he take out the reporter next? Or attempt to utilize him for more leads? Unwise to kill his direct 'reports'. Even a blind man would grow suspicious of assigning him new temp positions if he did. His fingers twitch without his consent. He will find more deserving targets. He will seek out every person who threatens his kind.

He is broken. But it means he is best suited to commit these atrocities. So no one else like him has to break.

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Meanwhile...

Wed, 02 Oct 2024 14:25:19 GMT

It's snowing again. It was snowing then too.

Fitting.

Snow dampens sound. Suffocates the surroundings. When actively coming down, it masks tracks.

~~Screams. A child sobbing. Slush and mud underfoot where fire melted away the snow--~~

Irrelevant data. His memory files have been recalling without his consent more and more frequently. If this droid had a visible LED it would flicker between yellow and red while he runs an internal diagnostic. He doesn't stop walking. It's after dark, yet this droid doesn't seem bothered. Why should he, when no one not performing a very meticulous scan would ever know he is a droid? His gait is casual, his cooling fans emulate simulated breaths that cloud.

Paper crinkles in his pocket where the scrap of paper Jim had stolen pokes at his synthetic flesh. Jim withdraws the scrap and opens it. Unnecessary when he's housed the data internally, but having something tangible...keeps him focused on the here and now rather than lost in his own files where every second stretches out into an eternity.

It's an invitation. One he pilfered from the reporter his day job requires he follow around and assist like some service model of droid. The temp agency had admitted that the work 'might feel demeaning'. Most people aren't used to having assistants that are alive these days. But ever since the revolution agencies like the one Jim had signed up for have had to turn once again to Human labor to fill the shortage. If nothing else, the unemployment rate is about to drop significantly for the first time in over a decade.

I've got an AirBnB in town for the next few weeks to oversee 'company divestment talks' between the fucking Merch, Cyberlife, and state government. I can't give you all the details yet, but we can meet for coffee at Jojobeans in the morning and I'll give you what scoop I can. - Gary

A human wise enough to pass analogue notes when texts can be compromised, but not so wise to not leave his name, the time in which he will be seen by Jim's temporary 'boss' next [728 minutes 36 seconds...], and enough of an indication of where he's staying that an incognito browser and backdooring the company's website for credit card transactions yielded only one booking in Detroit during this time.

He could have done it quicker by just interfacing with the network directly, but that sort of activity is much more carefully monitored by droids. Droids who....on paper should be free now, but Jim holds no such presumptions that capital nor government alike would give up such important slaves easily. Either way Jim has an address in what he is now observing to be a mostly abandoned suburban neighborhood. Scans show no movement behind the curtains in windows he is silently passing. No one watches the street when Jim stops outside the address his prey is staying in.

A minor Cyberlife executive here presumably to try and curb what access his kind will have to replacement parts, thirium stores, and software repair. To insinuate droids may be free but they are still at the mercy of organics who think them Better.

~~"Papa? Gde ty? Papa!!*"~~

Smoke. Burning flesh, kerosine. No. Too messy. ~~Too alike last time~~

Jim needs this to be quiet. He walks around to the back door and tests the windows until he finds one unlocked. No one will hear a man scream his last, because Jim Kirk kneels atop his victim and suffocates him with a pillow. Difficult for a human to do, perhaps, but Jim only looks human. A droid's strength keeps the man from lashing out, breaking free. The pillow keeps him from having to touch the bastard with his own hands.

Fifteen minutes later Jim shuts the window and lets himself out the back door and back onto Detroit's streets with no one the wiser.

[OOC google translation from Russian for quick reference: Dad? Where are you? Dad!]

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Detroit: Become Human AU

Mon, 30 Sep 2024 15:06:15 GMT

Specifications and Designations Model: Reconnaissance Soldier Prototype RS100 Jobco Inc Serial: 233-017-001-14 Temp-to-hire Office Administrator, currently placed with Detroit Local 58 News Designation: Gabriel/Gabe James T. Kirk Gender: Male > >Added Species: Human Language Settings: English, Russian Current Location: Detroit, Michigan United States

( Read more... )

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Shedding Light Part 3 - Demons in the Dark [Ongoing Post with conjuredskies]

Wed, 02 Jun 2021 20:43:10 GMT

((OOC Note: Content warnings for trauma, body horror, and upsetting imagery still apply. Necromancy and its consequences are a hell of a thing. Link to Part 2 in the opener if you missed it!))

It feels like months ago they made their plan, and all the while time slips by.

Jim doesn't intend to let this problem linger and yet it's so easy for the weeks to pile up. First they wait for Felix to heal. He's adamant that he must go with to help set things to rights. Stratos insists they at least write to Mathieu to let him know this will be handled. To perhaps appease the college that the mage is doing what he can to get that stolen property returned....

But Stratos and Jim are both men with large responsibilities. They delay when the Tribune must travel for a summit dealing with political tension and new orders in Skyrim. They delay again when quarterly reviews and a minor ion storm throw the Enterprise-A into strained disarray. All the while a man's future hangs in the balance back on Nirn.

The New Year is a quiet one. They celebrate their anniversary, Jim reluctantly agrees to speak over subspace transmissions for a Remembrance Day ceremony held over his birthday. He ignores any more transmissions from his own mother for the time being. It would be easy to go on forever like this. Better for Felix, Jim, and probably Stratos to let Rielle fade until it was nothing more than a nightmare once more. But they can't run forever. Jim Kirk, at least, wouldn't be able to forgive himself. When Stratos sends word that he's back to business at his camp in Skyrim, Jim leaves Alpha shift with his teeth grit.

When he comes back to their quarters it won't be to enjoy a well deserved quiet evening. He'll need to hunt down his husband in the botany labs so they can both get dressed for a trip back home to Bruma.

There's preparations to be done first.

Jim makes sure Tiber's well fed and freshly watered before he sits down at his desk to force down a turkey sandwich he's procured from the replicator. By now Jim's aware of this cycle to know he needs to eat before they start talking about that godforsaken place hidden away in the mountains of Cyrodiil. If he waits there's a good chance he won't have an appetite for a day or more. Being sick and shaky from hunger but unable to eat because of ravaging nausea isn't going to help anyone. Taking a basic and mostly tasteless meal with a strong cup of coffee is easy enough even if Jim's already forcing himself to eat. He might be sick, later. But he'll definitely be less useful if he doesn't at least try to shore himself up ahead of this.

A shift spent mostly on paperwork means the captain doesn't strictly need to clean up but a quick sonic and a change of clothes Feels better. Feels like Jim's in control. In his routine. He shoves their uniforms to one side of the closet once he's changed, revealing the large trunk nestled in the very back hidden mostly from sight. He fishes the key for it from the usual hiding place before squatting down to turn the heavy lock. Lift the solid oaken lid up to reveal the carefully hidden clothing of Felix's world. Jim's careful not to rumple all of their clothes as he fishes out travel wear for both himself and Felix to lay out on their bed ready to change into once Jim brings his husband back to their quarters. All the while anxiety prickles at the edges of his thoughts. Jim slows his breathing purposefully every time he catches himself. He's taking too long to prepare, they shouldn't leave Stratos waiting. What if Felix isn't up for going? What if...

Tiber bunts his head against Jim's leg with a deliberately loud purr until the captain reaches over to give the kneazle a few strokes. "You be good and maybe I'll bring you along to see Stratos later." Jim hasn't missed how fond the Tribune is of the animal, magical or not. He needs to get a move on for now though. Tiber hops up on the desk to watch his bonded turn to the terminal inset next to the door. The kneazle's eyes blow wide, his tail twitching eagerly as the human kicks aside a hollow torchbug thorax when making his way over. Jim doesn't pay the chittery noises behind him any mind as he runs a scan to locate Felix. The Deck-2 labs are usually reserved for Spock's current projects and other Federation-requested testing of samples they collect, so Jim's not terribly surprised to find Felix on Deck-3's smaller botany lab.

"Seems he hasn't charmed Spock into granting him access to the larger labs after all that talk the other day..." Not even the current task can drain all the fondness from Jim's voice. It's easier to focus on his husband of the night before, idly complaining about the issue the head of the Science Division took with his lab findings write up. Helps his hands stay steady. "Don't let Felix leave if I somehow miss him and he beats me back here." Jim comments over his shoulder to the kneazle before excusing himself from their quarters and making his way down to the turbolifts.

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Shedding Light Part 1 - What Haunts Us Still [TW for Body Horror]

Wed, 02 Jun 2021 20:35:39 GMT

((OOC Note: Part of the Shedding Light series, the preview of which can be read Here from one of the Wronged Party's Points of View. Set a few months back at this point.

Content Warning for this whole series for upsetting imagery, trauma, and body horror. This is gonna be about the consequences of necromancy so you have been warned.))

Sleep hasn't come easily for months.

Not when a cold so much more potent than the biting chill of the mountains poisons Jim Kirk's every subconscious thought. Sometimes it's Harrowheart bloating and rotting in his armor the weaker his enchantments became, plundering the life of the forest they traveled through for any precious minutes of sanity he could buy. Sometimes Isidor's hateful words and bitter tears knife at him while she brandishes magic powerful enough to move mountains, her hand on the Runeblade. He and Stratos crying together in their bedrolls. Sometimes Felix is strangling him, or standing above him with his familiar bristling while it all but foams at the muzzle. Smoke filling Jim's lungs while a demon wearing his brother's smile presses a hefty gem soaked in the blood of mortals just like him into his shaking hands while whispering about the one way to bring Felix back. Sometimes it's Rielle itself with its gaping maw of fetid dark energy that made the living tremble to stand amid its ruins, the letters addressed to Jim or Stratos in all their feverish disarray trying to explain the madness Felix succumbed to in these crumbling walls.

Jim's fought more undead in his dreams than could possibly exist. Has been pulled under into murky algae-thick waters by rotting hands with splintered mails as rasping noises filled his ears and teeth sunk into his flesh. He's been chased down by shambling horrors that should never have been made, but were. How could Felix have made these? How could all of this Wrongness been the brainchild of the man Jim loves so much? Felix must have personally mutilated those bodies before magic allowed him to rearrange the pieces into the monstrosities they faced down amid the sinkholes and collapsed stairs deep within the ruin. So far away from even a hint of daylight.

It comes back to them every time. The Runeblades are at fault for this. Harrowheart's cursed soul repository that sought for themselves a new wielder. They tried to take Felix, they infected him with their madness, THEY TRIED AND FAILED TO CLAIM HIM. The metallic hiss of his name echoes throughout the stoneworks of Rielle.

"James...."

He sometimes thinks he can see glowing eyes following his every move even after Jim wakes before the dream has bled away back into his subconscious completely once more.

If it were just for himself, Captain Kirk wouldn't say anything. He'd suffer through his panic attacks, his night terrors, his PTSD induced nausea and then get up from the floor come Alpha shift and pretend to be a whole man again. He talks to Leonard first. Gets himself something to help him sleep. Jim won't agree to therapy but he can't fall to pieces every night with Felix at his side. He's not the only one with nightmares, either. Even on nights Jim is otherwise fine he'll be woken to curl close and ease Felix through his own remembered terrors. Jim can't give his husband reason to try to leave him behind again once the mage is well. The captain won't let himself be driven away again no matter how much he sometimes wants to grab Felix and demand answers he knows the man cannot give.

So he does what he can.

He's at Felix's side when the man gets his bandages off for good. Comes along for the initial trip to Bruma to go reassure their Uncle and Brother that the treatment Dr. McCoy provided won't be lacking in any magical area. To be support when both men inevitably have their chance to speak to Felix's actions going back to Rielle. Jim does his best to be a good husband. Dutiful. He's there to quietly offer up that Felix chose this foolhardy path in order to spare Stratos or himself from having to face that place again....

Jim's there because he has to be. (Part 2 is here!)

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Shedding Light - What's Left in Shadows

Fri, 05 Mar 2021 21:39:50 GMT

The courier takes so long to arrive he begins to suspect treachery anew.

They weren't friends--no. No, Felix made sure to show the Truth of that when he disappeared to planes unknown with Knowledge that never should have been shared. He should have seen the writing on the wall sooner. Shouldn't have been so quick to assume they were misplaced though even then his chest seized tight with the realization of the treachery shrouded among those quiet shelves.

Should have fled when the first missing tome was mentioned, before the exact tally of all that had been ~~RAIDED~~ gone missing could be ascertained. Like a fool, he'd kept his head down. Assumed that they had been clever enough. That there was no way this could trace back to Him. And Felix?

People pleaser wide-eyed boyish Felix?

He didn't have it in him. He wouldn't Dare pull something like this. Not truly. They'd just been misplaced. They'd turn up.

They didn't turn up. Seasons came and went and Nothing turned up. Every other moon the list of crimes grew longer and yet still he had been foolish enough to Hope....

The Caeluses are old mage blood. Entrenched with family homes and libraries all of their own. Felix didn't Need to do any of this. He was a coward. A coward in a way only the powerful could be. He feared the eyes of his family and so he kicked downward onto the Friends less fortunate than himself. Soon, even the small room he keeps (and shares with the mice, more often than not) in Bravil will be out of his means and then what will he do?

When the courier comes, it's not with tomes wrapped tight in linens and warded with spells. He comes with a letter and Matthieu has to laugh so he doesn't cry with his rage.

It would be easier if the courier never came at all. Assuming the worst is easier than trying to read between the lines of a man begging for more time as if he's the one who's been put to pasture because of this. Whether or not Felix Caelus truly intends to make anything right is left for the Divines to know. Mathieu isn't about to hold his breath this time. He knows what was in those missing tomes, for starters.

Once bitten, twice shy.

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3. Burying the Hatchet - A First Step

Wed, 16 Sep 2020 13:36:31 GMT

Nothing can ever just be easy, can it?

Felix's foolhardy attempts at secrecy to fix his own mistakes marked only the beginning of the storm that followed. He's recovering well. Thank every one of Felix's gods for that. Jim has spent more nights lying awake tormented by nightmares and what-ifs than he'd like to admit in the days since. Felix probably knows. Jim hasn't exactly been hiding the shadows underneath his eyes nor the amount of caffeine he's started consuming to get through his shifts. Work that is ramping up again on top of old friends calling at the worst time to ask for his help--taking him away from the ship for days at a time.

Somehow Jim manages to keep up. He's stretched thin but he's doing his best to keep the promises he's made to Felix after the Winter Storm. Even if it's under the guise of tending to Felix's own injuries, Jim makes time to eat and to at least attempt sleep curled up with his husband.

Jim's honestly trying.

It's long hours and travel and uncomfortable evenings sometimes of neither he nor Felix knowing what to say but Jim's sticking it out. He cares too much to let things slip back to the way they were after Rielle the first time. He promised he wouldn't run away again.

No matter how tempting it might be. The crew know there's something eating at their captain. Jim's always hated feeling as though he was being coddled or treated delicately. Lieutenant Norn has asked over Felix's well being once or twice but Jim fears he's intimidated the other as that's all but dried up. Hendorff's caught him in the cafeteria and offered to help Jim brush up on his hand to hand. He's learned a lot in the last year and a half from Isidor Durant--enough not to completely make a fool of himself. Jim throws himself into it and just gives in to the outlet for all the pent-up frustration, fear, and anxiety he's been holding on to. Every swing a tear he's held off from shedding, an unkind word he's wanted to speak, a quiet admission that Jim is not as okay as he tells himself.

It's enough to wear him out so the nightmares can't reach him as easily. So he's too tired to be upset.

None of it prepares him for the incoming message waiting for him on his personal device after Jim trudges back to his quarters for the evening after training session. Felix is down in sickbay getting his bandages changed. It's Tiber who chirps in alarm when Jim knocks his mug of coffee off the desk before climbing up to headbutt Jim and make sure his bonded is alright. It's a message from one Commodore Kirk.

Congratulations are in order, I hear. Your brother didn't say anything either, so I suppose I can only be so upset with you.

Your nephew sent a card I've made a holo of attached.

Please call. You've missed a lot.

Love,

Mom

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A Very Nexus Reception

Sat, 07 Dec 2019 22:29:14 GMT

To all the friends of the happy grooms, PINpoint messages have already been sent weeks ago inviting them to expect quite the street party arranged in the commons of the Nexus. Guests have been invited to bring an appetite--both for food and for a social adventure. Nirnish weddings are public affairs, after all. While the ceremony has had to be somewhat sequestered for the sake of keeping the existence of Other Worlds a secret, neither Felix nor Jim would want to leave out their interdimensional friends entirely. Having a reception party arranged in the Nexus became the natural plan of action.

Overnight large sections of the Commons are transformed via diligent craftsmanship and quite a lot of magic from those who’ve volunteered. Lanterns representing the Divines are hung along every lamp post, bringing at least the idea of warmth even if the flames are too small to heat their surroundings alone. Bardic tunes carry in the air as readily as the scent of food and drink. Past banners of red and black, blue and white the people gather.

For both grooms this is nearly a continuation of the day before. They’ve had the chance to sleep off the nerves of their ceremony. Today is entirely for celebration--uninhibited celebration at that. No more minding what is said and isn’t. No more pretending to be anything other than who they are. Jim’s traded out his Nirnish finery for a suit and tie, garments he’s much more familiar with. Felix is staying with his native clothing; though he may have dressed down a little from his wedding clothes, the conjurer’s dressed in fitted breeches and his best fur-trimmed coat and boots, the soft hide dyed blue to match his tunic. By their side sits the conjurer’s spectral wolf familiar, ears pricked at the gathering.

As the guests find their ways over it will be easy to spot their friends amidst all the decor along with many other avenues with which to enjoy themselves….

Greetings
Food and Drink
Music and Dancing
Bonfire Entertainment
Party Games

((Links to all relevent wedding Prose can be found Here!))

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Rematches and Requests (for boldygoing)

Thu, 21 Nov 2019 22:50:18 GMT

Who knew planning a wedding could be so much work?

It was different when they signed the paperwork in Yorktown the year before. All the work leading up to that had been forging Felix an identity in this universe. Giving him a paper trail that could be found if anyone asked questions about Jim's partner. Giving Felix himself a crash course in the basics of his world, of Starfleet and it's history, and of the things the man would need to know to safely live aboard a ship like the Enterprise-A. That was necessity.

This? This is just exhausting. Every day Felix comes back to the ship looking more and more frazzled (or back to their room in Bruma the nights they stay over to see the Caelus family for dinner and the like) and all Jim can do is rub his husband's shoulders and remind him that they're nearly done now.

It's Stratos who asks first. Will your family be coming? Jim had done his best to brush it off and not ruin their dinner at the time. They don't know about the Nexus. About Nirn. And even if they Did--no, it's impossible. Their concerns were absolutely valid. How would Jim's mother or brother feel to be left out of something like this? If they ever found out. Which they won't, Jim knows that already. He doesn't like the look Stratos gives him even when the Tribune drops the subject.

Jim's turned the question over in his head several times since. Maybe...he could ask some of the crew to come. Half of them know the truth already, or at least most of it. They're his family. Better than even. The family he chose. The family he found.

Alpha shift has come and went without so much as a dust particle out of place and Jim wonders again. If they want him to bring a relative...well. Jim may not be obeying that wish in spirit, but he does know of one person he's related to that he can stand being in the company of.

The captain pulls out his PINpoint and flicks through it.

Hey, it's me. Fancy a rematch?

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Writing Prompt 5. Strange Allergies

Thu, 16 May 2019 14:01:38 GMT

He'd only gone into the Nexus for a goddamned coffee.

Sneezing isn't exactly an uncommon thing for Jim, especially in Spring when there's pollen everywhere. Space is usually a pretty great reprieve from that sort of thing but he's been careful with his time spent in Bruma with Felix and Stratos while they get things finalized with the Caelus and Avita families regarding the wedding. He keeps his allergy medications discreetly with him at all times, and avoids anything that looks like it Might be trouble.

If only he'd been that careful in the Nexus.

"Dammit, Jim--" Bones drags a hand down his face and internalizes the groan he wants to give. His best friend's turned rather pale and sniffly but that's preferable to why he'd finally drug his ass into Sickbay to begin with. "Why th'hell did you wait until now to come see me?"

"I thought I had it under control! But I got up this morning and everything looked Wrong and--" One of the captain's hands is clamped rather tightly over his eyes. "I'm going to have to apologize to Felix later for running out on him but I panicked when there was a goddamned blue arm around my waist."

"Only you could short out your visual cortex going out for coffee." The Enterprise-A's CMO mutters darkly while he rummages around in his things. "One o'these days I'm gonna just tie you in The Chair so you quit runnin' off to get into trouble every time someone looks th'other way." He stops muttering when he sees the quirk of Jim's lips but before the captain can open that mouth of his Bones is sticking a hypo into his neck.

"OW--!"
"I don't wanna know what you're into and if you say a word I'll kill you myself." He won't, Jim and McCoy both know this, but it pays not to upset one's doctor more than absolutely necessary. "Now quit whining and pull your hand down so we can run some tests."

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Here we are, so far from where we both thought we'd end up

Tue, 08 Jan 2019 17:33:18 GMT

Yorktown, Starfleet Base.

For the surviving crew of the former USS Enterprise this fragile snowglobe softly spinning out in the black this station transformed from an objective to be protected into a home for the last year. The unexpected break in the crew's five year mission has been a relief for some and an agonizing wait for others. For one man currently weaving through a steady stream of foot traffic for an 'afternoon' commute carrying a dress uniform hat underneath his arm it's been a bit of both columns. He skips the last step outside the Starfleet Command building and offers a distracted but friendly smile toward everyone who greets him.

There's no time for idle chatter today. Especially not with the Tellarite lieutenant who looks as likely to chomp her own tusks in twain if she doesn't get to argue with her commanding officer right this second. It's her way of saying hello but honestly there just isn't the time for it right now. A casual trading of friendly barbs gets him through the entryway without fuss. He keeps a brisk pace through the halls, deflects a rather direct compliment about his dress uniform in record time as he heads for the third floor of the building. Taking the stairs is quicker than waiting for a lift. Crucially, it's also easier to dodge people who would want to chat. An unmarked door at the end of the hall hisses open with his credentials and every head inside turns his way.

"Bones--! You found it! Where..?" Captain James Tiberius Kirk has never been this jittery in all the years Leonard has known him, though he seems to relax incrementally with his best friend once more at his side. Leonard stifles the urge to roll his eyes and huffs the softest of chuckles instead before holding out the hat for Jim to take. The CMO can count on one hand how many times Jim's been in his dress uniform, even fewer times that they both have at the same time.

"Never mind that right now, Jim. You look two seconds away from vibrating right outta yer damn skin. Y'never even brought it to the office. It was in your apartment." Frankly the fact that Leonard H. McCoy is here and not out of breath is damn impressive so far as the good doctor is concerned. He really isn't appreciated nearly enough. Today though, he thinks Jim can be forgiven for it.

"I did advise that you check there first before coming here, Jim." The captain's first in command tuts softly but Bones is convinced there's a quirk of a smile playing at Spock's own blank features as well. None of them are all that accustomed to dealing with Jim like this and it's honestly as much endearing as it is frustrating. Of course, the latter is all either of them will admit to later unless it's to tell on the other. Well, Bones will admit to it. Spock will insist that is the appropriate emotion if Vulcans had them. Which they do not.

"Yeah--I just, I know. Do you know where I put--" Jim's dragging his hand through his hair for the umpteenth time in the last hour. Though Spock is quick to pull his hand away and fix it before tugging the captain's hat on to stop him from fussing with it.

"Right here. Admiral Beckett is waiting."
"To hell with the Admiral, he's keeping Felix waiting."

Bones none too gently nudges Jim toward the door. He and Spock trail behind while they continue on up the hallway and around the corner until the corridor opens up into a quiet lobby with floor to ceiling windows staring out at the entirety of the base below (and above) them. But most importantly, to the outline of the Enterprise-A barely visible from this height in the docking bay below the reflecting pools just outside the building. Two dark haired men stand at the window, one of them pointing out various landmarks while the taller of the two nods with an absent pause between the words murmured into his ear and his reply.

Yorktown is a lot to take in for anyone, but especially for someone who has never before stepped foot on another world. Even the ship and its shape is only the vaguest bits familiar to Stratos Caelus from pictures he's had shared with him. His short time seeing the Enterprise was from within after all. At the time he was more interested in all the space just beyond the hull. Perhaps it's a blessing that space cannot be so easily glimpsed from beyond the artificial sky of Yorktown because this is truly a harrowing culture shock to his system already. He stands in a perfect disguise with all of the same military bearing as the Starfleet officers they've walked by getting up here because it is much easier to close himself off and exist in an overwhelmed fog than it is to try and take it all in right now.

There will be time for questions later.

"Captain Kirk!" The admiral claps a faux leather folder shut at the officer's approach and it's enough to drag Stratos and his brother's attention from the window finally. Stratos doesn't stifle his grin at how sharply Felix turns either. Neither of them even noticed the footsteps approaching, though Jim and his two head officers weren't exactly being quiet. His baby brother in an Earth made suit and tie facing the man they've already told their father would be joining their family.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Admiral." Jim nearly doesn't tear his gaze away from Felix in time to turn that statement toward Beckett. Compared to the man who looks like he's waltzed his way off of a fashion cover, Admiral Beckett is rather much more ordinary. He's a heavier set dark skinned man who could have been broader and more solid than Stratos once before all that muscle softened up with age and a promotion that kept one away from action. Jim closes the distance between them and offers a salute before taking the man's hand in a shake instead once formalities have been dealt with. "I really appreciate you taking time out of your day like this."

"Nonsense, Kirk. It's an honor to be presiding. Your fiancé expressed how important this was to be kept quiet and unassuming until you could have a proper ceremony back home. Your situation being what it is, I think this is probably the easiest course of legal action. I've got the paperwork here. Your IDs checked out, obviously. All that's needed is a signature from each of you with your witnesses present." Beckett opens the folder again and gestures to all of them to gather over at one of the small tables near the windows.

"Your Admiral was telling me all about the proper Starfleet traditions a normal fleet ceremony would have, you know." Felix leans over and nudges Jim in the arm with his elbow before his words fail him at the table. Laid out bare next to Jim's own Identification is his own, each of them with the stamp of clearance resting atop the data in plain ink. His own new life as officially recognized as Jim's own. The marriage licence itself is such a simple thing compared to that but the weight the single document carries...

"What, you want the flags and the saluting and all that pomp and circumstance?" A chuckle escapes Jim slowly without him seeming to realize it's fleeing him in a breathless titter. "Captain James Tiberius Kirk strutted around like a country hen in his gear while you're forced to watch entirely too much tradition and ceremony that has nothing to do with the wedding?"

He nearly drops the pen then, but Spock deftly catches it before it can roll off the table and hands it back to Jim without a word. Leonard nods toward his best friend. Best get on with it.

"Oh gods no. I'd be bored to tears. No offense, Admiral." And Beckett's laugh relaxes the hand Stratos placed on Felix's shoulder for a moment.

"None taken, none taken! If you're marrying Kirk, I already know you're not one to stand on airs and rest on the way things have always been done." He offers then both a warm smile for a sight he certainly never thought he'd get to see. There's always been rumors about Jim Kirk but anyone in command who knows him has known for years the only thing he loves is the job. Not even a love for the endless black can stop a man from seeking company forever.

He looks so much like George Kirk in this moment, all of twenty-four when he married now-Commodore Winona Kirk in their own dress uniforms fresh out of the Academy together. The same glowing smile lighting up the same starlight blue eyes when he passes the pen over to Felix and murmurs something that makes all of them laugh standing around the table. Admiral Beckett takes off his hat and bows his head. George Kirk never got to see his younger son but here he stands with his captain's braids swearing his life to someone with the same fervency George once showed in Jim's mother.

"Is there anything else needed...?" Jim's first officer clasps his hands behind his back and turns a serene face toward the Admiral. A look the man who must be Felix's next of kin meets as he holds back from asking much the same thing if the Admiral had to guess.

"I suppose we ought to let the captain kiss his husband shouldn't we?"

Bones drops a heavy sigh and a groan before the suggestion's even done. As charming of a suggestion as that is, those two do not need any encouragement. He's about to say as much before Spock catches his gaze and shakes his head.

Jim leads Felix away from the table until they're next to the windows. His left hand inches up Felix's neck, fingertips tracing the line of Felix's jaw with reverent softness. With his right hand he slips off his hat as he leans forward and presses the softest of kisses onto his husband. Murmurs the only two words that seem at all appropriate against the mage's lips.

"Welcome home."

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Of Warnings and Tactical Retreats ( For mr_enterprise, primelogic )

Thu, 03 Jan 2019 11:34:41 GMT

The weather's turned in the Nexus and it's showing no signs of stopping.

People are starting to panic because in a place as ever shifting as the Nexus, long term weather events just aren't a thing that happens. No one's prepared for this and portals are beginning to fail. It doesn't take a genius to see that time isn't on their side. Isidor Durant is reaching out to Jim for help, which he's more than willing to give. If he's going to be in charge of anything around here though he could sorely use some more information.

And after meeting his older counterpart Jim Kirk thinks he might know where to start looking for it. Besides, the storm isn't going to do either of the older couple any favors. Especially Ambassador Spock. With their safety on his mind and Isidor's request looming while she begins to prepare a headquarters for their organizational efforts Jim suits up and heads out on an expedition of his own to a housing district not far from the plaza.

It would be a quick walk normally. Now? It's a couple of hours before a knock is rapping against the couple's door...

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Want to meet at the Library?

Mon, 17 Dec 2018 01:25:12 GMT

Jim hasn't braved an audience with Harrowheart's rune blades since his first visit to the death knight's humble abode. If he had the free time and the liver capacity he'd go and see Harrowheart every day just to shoot the shit and take a much needed load off of his shoulders. It's nice to be Just Jim to some people, but he hasn't been able to stop thinking about that insidious laughter when he was alone in the dark hall.

Has had to lie to Felix about what jars him awake at night before he settles back into bed and stares up at the ceiling.

So he puts it out of his mind. Best as he can. There's so many other things that need his attention. So many deadlines to be met and decisions to be made. Lessons to be crafted and taught. He's wearing himself thin enough that even Jim knows this isn't sustainable for much longer. Thankfully there's not much longer they'll have to wait. In either case his new ship's departure date is steadily approaching and with it Jim's plans will have to be put to the test. His sleep or lack thereof won't make that date come any slower.

But that is the how and why when the what is most important. Jim Kirk is dozing off at his seat with a stack of textbooks detailing the properties of electricity and its application in basic engineering when his arm slips and knocks the largest off the pile to the floor in a clatter that echoes through the near silence of this grandiose space. It jars Jim from his nap and probably spooks the heck out of anyone nearby.

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Growing Shadows (open thread, tagging boldygoing for sure)

Sat, 06 Oct 2018 18:55:08 GMT

George Kirk is a Starfleet legend for the Federation. A hero to his crew. A good husband and father to his family, or so Jim Kirk has always been told.

The shadow he cast even in death swallowed Jim up before he was even old enough to understand why his mother cried whenever he smiled a certain way. Refused to look at him or even come back to Earth more than she had to while he was young. He tried to fight it, rebel against it. Baring his teeth. Willing to become the antithesis of George Kirk so long as it meant someone would see him. Anyone. It didn't matter who.

To a young James Kirk even being labeled a criminal was better than being labeled as George Kirk's Son.

Pike ruined all of that. Drug Jim right back into that shadow and told him to embrace it. Encompass it. Dared him to be better. An impossible challenge surely. Every struggle Jim waded through made in the gloom of a reputation he could never hope to live up to. When he finally came out the other side and stepped into the light again a year older than his father ever got to be he was lost. His own accomplishments and reputation stood on their own merit but to what end?

"Dammit, I thought I was past all of this."

Thought he'd moved on since arriving in Yorktown. Found a place all his own that he belonged, no matter what George's reputation was. It turns out self awareness can only go so far. Meeting a Norse God who wears your old man's face isn't the sort of thing he'd been prepared for. He has a pile of ignored PINpoint messages staring accusingly up at him from the screen. Jim's been ignoring people for the last few days since his run in with Thor in the Nexus.

Some people are harder to dodge than others, of course. He picks up the device and starts to rifle through everything he's missed.

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Lessons

Mon, 24 Sep 2018 13:02:40 GMT

It's been years since Jim was a full time student. A cadet in his reds spending every waking moment studying or making it look like he never studied. Both seemed important to him at the time, even though now it seems like a rather wasted effort of a smartass kid who had a bone to pick with everyone. It hasn't even been a decade since his graduation yet and he already feels a lifetime away from the man who stood in front of Christopher Pike to relieve him of his post on the Enterprise.

Would his old teacher find this Jim Kirk amusing?

Putting together lesson plans and tests to give his fiance to try and catch him up on the basics of living on a space ship like the Enterprise so it would be safe to have him aboard? Spending the off nights carefully measuring herbs and seeds he's ground into dust with the pastes of feathers, fungi, and scales Felix provides as he dutifully studies his alchemy. Felix and he have made something of a competition over it because of course they have. It suits the competitive Jim perfectly. As much of a scholar as he is by his own right nothing motivates him better than trying to prove someone else wrong no matter who it is.

Even if it's the man Jim loves.

For as laid back as Felix can seem there's no denying there's a very specific drive in the Nirnish mage to not be left behind. He's also a voracious scholar but more important than the lessons themselves is the pleasure in smiling so sweetly at his fiance while he tells the other he's lost. Jim Kirk is a proud man. A stubborn man. Getting him into a forfeit round is no easy feat and Felix is always justifiably pleased in lording a victory over Jim. Just a little bit.

Of course the material itself is important as well. For as much of a pain as a 'mandatory cram school' as Jim calls it is, they both know how important this is before Felix soon finds himself immersed completely into Jim's daily life. In return for the hours of reading and questioning, Felix gets to watch Jim sit with his own notes carefully learning Cyrodiilic or dutifully practicing his alchemy. Strictly speaking this part isn't necessary. They're not going to be living in Tamriel after all. Anytime at all the mage comments on it Jim just looks up from his notes with the softest smile on his face.

"I know. I want to. I can't be much of a partner or confidant if I don't learn, after all."

Jim knows it's not enough. They don't talk about the things they should. He's not a mage, he wouldn't understand.There's so much Jim doesn't get and Felix needs someone he can talk to. If not Jim, then who? If Felix Caelus is going to leave his world behind and follow Jim out into the Black, the least the captain can do is educate himself in return. Until he's knowledgeable enough for Felix to open up. They've overcome so much. Jim can't let this stay in the way forever.

There's so much to learn for them both.

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Mages! In! SPAAAACE! (for heirtothearcane )

Mon, 13 Aug 2018 12:30:54 GMT

When the fabric of reality warps leaving the Nexus behind with a tiny barely audible Bip! and reasserts itself into something recognizable once more Viatorus Durant will find that they're in--actually a really ordinary looking apartment, all things considered. By the warnings Jim gave you'd think there's be beds on the ceiling and other weird things but aside from several computer terminals built into the walls of the apartment and everything feeling ever so slightly off the design of the living room they're standing in could be hyper-modern for his time.

"Alright, pardon the mess. I couldn't just PINpoint us anywhere interesting in case someone saw. This is my place." Oddly, what Jim would consider to be clutter rally looks out of place compared to the rest of the apartment. A few very old looking tomes scattered about the coffee table. A few sprigs of some sort of dried flower still sitting next to a mortar and pestle on a sidetable next to the couch. Another dried flower torn apart and scattered all over the floor, probably by the very content cat lounging on one end of the couch.

Rather than bother with a tour of his home, Jim turns a conspiratorial grin to Viatorus' way and by proxy Lyall's as well but he's been urged not to pay the other man too much attention so Jim keeps his focus on the mage.

"You ready?"

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Familiar Skies

Wed, 04 Jul 2018 14:27:00 GMT

What captivates him the most is how much of Tamriel is the same.

A different world and a different sky that looks so very much like Earth during the day. Jim's brought a small satchel with him this time and while Stratos works with patience and kindness through Felix's remedial sword and magic drills he's playing around in the dirt and soil. He tests the minerals in the rocks and dirt, taking note on anything he can't identify but there is shockingly little that isn't the same as his own world so far as the elements go. Perhaps a rarer mineral might set the worlds apart but this planet is not so different from Jim's own home.

On a rare clear summer night in Skyrim though it is impossible to mistake this world for Earth. Felix and Jim occasionally curl up together to watch the night sky but it's the first time Stratos has joined them, sitting off to the side on the blue cloth Felix has spread out on the hillside.

"That's the Apprentice right over us yeah?" There are so many fewer stars here. Jim can't fathom how empty the skies are but what is there is a tantalizing void of wonder he longs to explore as deeply as he does the recesses of his own galaxy. It hasn't take him long to learn the core constellations by heart. "That's the one that makes you stronger, right?"

"At magic, perhaps." Stratos' reply is quiet enough that Felix doesn't even sulk at not getting to answer first. He pulls Jim closer to him with an affectionate squeeze. Stratos continues stroking Tiber who's curled up in his lap while his own gaze is turned upward. "The Lord grants those born under it's influence physical health. The Apprentice deals with magical sensitivity. Both for gain and for ill."

Jim's studied every map of this Stratos and Felix could show him. This world couldn't be any geological iteration of Earth and its continents in the past. Yet it boasts an eerily near identical calendar year with its own names for the months. It's own astrological signs in the stars overhead. What is Sun's Height here is July back home. The seasons match up. As always the differences come when magic and its effects come back into the equation.

"Do you ever get folks waiting to have kids so they'll be born most likely under a specific constellation? Since they give people gifts?" He can tell he's asked another one of those questions folks don't really think about over here by the way Stratos hums in either thought or checked words he doesn't deem fit for this kind of quiet evening and by the way Felix hurries to fill the silence as though they'll seem silly for not having an answer.

"The stars don't give us that much power. It would be an awful lot of waiting around and planning with no guarantee."

Power from the stars, every planet and moon and rock the body of long dead gods who watch over this world. Jim feels small here in a similar way he does at home but it isn't knowing there's so much out there here in Tamriel. It's knowing that what lies beyond the sky is a power he doesn't comprehend. It grows late when they all head back to camp. Felix stops Stratos before they've parted ways for respective tents and murmurs something to him before the say their good nights and tonight it is.

---------

The green is a flowing blanket of grassy farmland in Iowa that clings to the muggy July air not unlike some of the warmer eves in Cyrodiil at their cousin Marcella's home. It's so much flatter here though much like Felix had done Stratos is more agog with the farmhouse than he is the empty fields surrounding it. Felix gives him the grand tour of the place without any of the fun stories of mischief that's been made in these rooms while they wait for Jim. It makes Felix feel knowledgeable and useful and he only lords his Earth-knowledge a little bit over his older brother's head.

Stranger even than the house to the Elder Caelus is the outfit his little brother is wearing. The blue button up shirt is crisp and smart even untucked from sleek black slacks and boots but it's so different from the cuts of their own clothes. But Felix can hardly wear his tunics and leathers in Yorktown. He wears them like he belongs. Some day soon he will.

"Sorry I'm late. I brought food!" Jim's arrival might not be announced via the PINpoint but he's loud enough to make up for it. His face curls into a fond smile seeing Felix and Stratos sitting on the couch. Having real family in this house still feels so strange. Not unwelcome though. "I'll have to get you a set of clothes to wear when you come to visit, Stratos. I doubt that skirt I gave you still fits now."

He laughs at the look the elder Caelus gives and for once the memories of his altered body do not leave Jim cold and aching at remembered bruises around his neck. They eat while the sun sets before heading out back to the picnic cloth spread out in the back yard next to the telescope Jim's set up for them.

At first the pinpricks of light are bright but few as the sun sets and twilight begins to fade. Jim points out the planets visible--Mars is exceptionally close this year and draws the eye toward it's reddish light. But it's when Jim stops talking and just turns his gaze upward that all conversation fades away. Stratos remembers well the glimpse he caught of the night's sky from beyond the viewscreen on the Enterprise's bridge but this....

Jim lets Felix eagerly show off what he's learned about some of the constellations of Jim's world, kicking back on the blanket with a beer in hand while Tiber explores the grass looking for bugs next to him. He used to hate this farm, all the memories that it held. While he may not hold any love for its past Jim isn't so sure the future needs to be so grim. Felix is bright and eager in his words while Stratos seems to have sunk into an awed shock looking at the sea of stars above them. They'll bother Jim soon enough for lessons on working the telescope but for now the captain is happy to just relax and take in a familiar sky.

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Unexpected Expected Guests

Sat, 02 Jun 2018 18:34:08 GMT

Jim's in between meetings when he feels the tug on the edge of his senses letting him know that 'the lady' is in the apartment again. Felix has managed to give Tiber the slip today so the kneazle has been holed up all alone in Jim's apartment while the captain works. The last few times she's shown up haven't been ideal--rebuilding efforts on the station and staffing for Jim's new ship have eaten into most of his time of late.

Today though, all he has are easily put-offable bureaucratic meetings with his head of departments. Frankly, Scotty, Spock, and Bones can operate fine for an afternoon without him and Jim more than trusts them to do just that. It gets him a bit of an eyebrow from the other men when he begs off but they don't question him more than that for now.

The apartment sounds quiet when Jim lets himself in. The lights are off. Everything's as he's left it. Except he can see the light outside his study door marked orange telling him it's been locked from the inside. He'd shown Isidor how to do that the first day she'd come over after all. A layer of security for her already frayed paranoia about being seen at anything other than her best.

Jim knows the feeling all too well. He's done what he could to accommodate her.

His work desk has long since been pushed off into one of the corners to maximize the floor space in the room. The captain's done what he could to remove anything unnecessary--coffee tables or the like. That's left is a spartan office with a desk tucked into the corners and the only window set to opaque to give a bit of 'natural' light to this otherwise empty room. If it weren't for the terminal at the door it would look almost normal. It's the little things that feel off to any Earth-hailing person. The wood of the trim and desk don't feel quite right. The sense of balance and gravity is ever so slightly odd. Even the glass isn't the same as a normal frosted window. And then there's the smell. Or lack thereof of modern day air pollution that permeates modern living. The air scrubbers of the colony keep Yorktown sterile and clean smelling.

Jim knocks twice on the door to let Isidor know he's there before he punches in the door's override code and it hisses open with the quietest swissssh.

"I've got a pot of coffee going, wanted to see if you were interested in a cup of something a bit different from the blends you usually have access to."

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Needs Improvement (Bonus Image Prompt for May)

Mon, 07 May 2018 13:27:00 GMT

With the track record in command Captain James T. Kirk has it's pretty well known that the head of the late USS Enterprise is skilled in a number of fields. Starfleet's got him doing guest lectures via holo from Yorktown on everything they can convince him to accept. Diplomacy, tactics, survival, emergency plans. Jim doesn't mind the work though he often complains about not getting to talk about things he wants to constantly.

There's plenty of ways to scratch a scholar's itch though. Jim's taken to frequenting the Grand Library in the Nexus, scooping up every and all books on Nirn he can get his hands on. Imperial history, magical theory, folklore, religious texts--so long as he can read it they come back to Yorktown with him for hours of avid study after work. Even when he's visiting Tamriel Jim's often got his nose in a book. The best way to learn something new is through doing, after all.

Most of the time.

When Jim picked up a book full of detailed sketches on alchemical ingredients native to Skyrim he'd sort of assumed whoever had done the sketches had you know...seen the plants described therein. He's flipping through pages and frowning heavily at the flowering bush in front of him because he's been told by one of the knights this is definitely used in alchemy and he cannot find it anywhere in the book. It's actually come as a bit of a surprise that the actual flowers and not the leaves, seeds, or buds are used in the alchemical process. Seems like kind of a waste to turn a perfectly pretty flower into mush.

Jim shuts the book with a snap and tucks it back into his bag before rolling up his sleeves. Alright then. If book work isn't going to help him figure this out then he's going to have to take matters into his own hands.

-----

"Jim, beloved, what is this?" Felix has no words for what he's seeing. It seems almost like Jim's absconded with a florist's cart and dumped it over Felix's workstation inside his tent. The captain himself is holding a sprig of small blue flowers up to candlelight and flipping through a book in his lap furiously.

"None of these flowers look a damn thing like what's in this book." Jim heaves a defeated sigh and tosses the flowers back onto the station and the book atop his bag. "I was trying to do some field studies for your alchemy."

"Well, you've done a nice job of improving the smell of the tent at least. I wasn't aware you had such a keen interest in flowers."

"Alchemy." Huff.

"Of course, of course." It's a touching gesture, even if Felix has a bit of a mess to clean up now. "Next time you might just ask me to show you." Jim might be good at many things but his field scouting needs some work before Felix is going to trust any of it to his mortar and pestle. At least he's enthusiastic.

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Colors of Spring

Fri, 20 Apr 2018 01:23:10 GMT

((Bonus Image Prompt for April))

Even in Spring the air in Skyrim carries a crispness to it. The warmth from the sun still has to pierce through the dense pine forests and compete with the sharp breezes that remind those who walk in the soggy thawed ground that mother nature could rear her head at any time and quash this reprieve from the cold if she so felt like it. Jim thinks her name might be Kynareth here, but it's really only a guess based on the books he's slowly but surely paging his way through in his evening Cyrodillic studies.

Stratos' camp buzzes with activity even in the early morning hours fresh from the dawn. Breton knights and Imperial battlemages mending armor or going through morning drills against the practice dummies. Unpacking crates of weapons and armor and inspecting them carefully. Stewards tending to the fires where cooking potatoes, rabbit, and leek waft on the breeze with the smoke. By now Jim's a familiar enough face that he gets a nod of the head and a murmured 'captain' in greeting from any passers by but otherwise no trouble for being here.

It's become something of a habit for Jim since he's been 'grounded' in Yorktown. Tiber has long since wriggled free from Jim's cloak and started chasing dartwings and butterflies in the grass while Jim sits at a low bench and fastens his bracers and arm guard. Strings his bow, checking for any signs it needs to be replaced. Shoulders his quiver before getting up and walking up range from the targets set up on the edge of camp.

Nocking the arrow serves as Jim's focus. Honing in on the feel of the fletching against his fingers and tuning out the noise of the Imperial Camp surrounding him. Jim relishes every draw of the bow and the power he feels in his arms when he gets the arrow to its anchor point next to his mouth. When he first picked this up years ago as a hobby with a friend from the Nexus teaching him it was laughable how easily he'd tire after loosing only a handful of arrows with varying degrees of success. It's not as easy as those hot shot archers make it out to be, but the challenge was well worth the reward.

After their trek through Bruma Jim stayed away from his bow for a few months. Bad memories and a lack of free time ate away at what had become one of his favorite exercises. There was a focus to it and a thought process that his tactician's mind craved like a drug. Just existing in Skyrim and its steep hillsides and mountainous terrain was enough to get his Cardio in. Archery filled in strength training and picking up a useful skill for Tamriel. He was never going to be a soldier, a tradesman, or a mage but with a lot of practice and a bit of lessons from those more experienced than Jim he was at least becoming decent as a hunter. Survival skills were already things Jim had thanks to a combined love of the outdoors and terrible life experiences. Being able to properly use a bow went a long way in a place like this.

Every arrow loosed is a puzzle solved. The captain's fingers don't even begin to ache until he's down to the last of the arrows in his quiver. His shots quicken as his arms begin to burn with fatigue. The strain to hold his draw is too much when he's down to these last few attempts. Jim's aim starts to shake when he reaches the last arrow and it goes wide of the rest of his clustered arrows, lodging itself into the tree instead. He's breathing heavily by now. Has to take a moment to catch his breath before Jim can head down range to collect the arrows.

Jim's been so focused on the targets he nearly jumps out of his skin when an arm slides round his shoulders and pulls him back ever so slightly.

"It's not noon yet, why are you awake?" Blue eyes scowl over his shoulder at Felix and earn a chuckle from the Imperial along with the shrug of his shoulders. Felix knows Jim isn't actually cross. Just annoyed at having been caught looking less than cool for even a moment.

"Your little terror decided to 'gift' me dead bug parts on my face as a morning present." Felix's eyebrow game has gotten much stronger over the years spent learning from Starfleet's best. Jim finds himself looking around for the golden furred kneazle and can only suppress a laugh seeing him chomping one of the dartwings he's been content chasing all morning.

"He wanted to help stock your alchemy stores, clearly."

"Mmmh. I could do without them in our bed." Jim feels Felix huff as the breath messes with his hair. The food cooking at the fire smells heavenly suddenly. Jim can see Stratos heading their way from the other side of the camp and he wonders for the first time if this is what having a home feels like apart from the ship. He grins back at his fiance before waving his future brother-in-law over and this, Jim is certain, must be what family is. This sense of belonging.

It is a good breakfast.

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Reunion (co-authored by conjuredskies )

Mon, 12 Feb 2018 04:01:10 GMT

Felix calls Jim in Yorktown every evening.

At first it's just to hear Jim's voice, some small assurance that this is real and the captain is alright. Jim had given the conjurer his schedule right away and every night when Jim gets home there's either a message waiting for him or a call coming through shortly after he's arrived. The days stretch into a week. Felix still doesn't know what kind of place Jim's stuck in. A whole city floating out in the Void? What is that even like?

"I'll show you as soon as I can, I promise. So much has happened..."

That's where they first begin to talk again. Jim fills Felix in on everything that's happened to him since they last tried to see each other. The negotiations and peace treaties that fell through, the rescue mission they received in Yorktown and the tragic consequences of taking it on. Losing his ship, rescuing what was left of his crew, stopping Thrall from destroying Yorktown and so much more. Jim tells Felix everything up until the moment his younger counterpart and Felix called him at his apartment. Felix hangs on every word, winces at every blow Jim mentions. He looks more and more worried as Jim tells his story. He knows Jim made it out and he's impressed, but the cost...

"It wasn't until after that I realized my PINpoint was gone and I was cut off from the Nexus...and from you. I sent the message to the house as soon as I got back." Hoping and praying Felix would come looking for him. He can see the hurt in the younger Caelus' eyes. Knows how close they've come to being apart for good this time. So Jim smiles and for once it isn't forced. "I'm going to be alright, Felix." He always says that, but this time he means it.

"I'm...I'm glad to see you coping."
"There's only one thing that's hurting me." Jim leans closer to the terminal, as though he could reach through the screen across an impossible distance and touch Felix if only he could get close enough. "I miss you. I haven't seen you hardly since this summer. Since before you disappeared. I'm tired of this, so whatever we have to do to get past it. I'm telling you right here, right now. I want to do it. I'm sorry for how I acted after we rescued you. Sorry I was too proud and too weak to be there for you when you needed me."

Felix swallows a lump in his throat, expression wavering between hopeful longing and shame underneath the hood he's wearing.

"I..it wasn't your fault." Felix stumbles over his words before the floodgates burst free. "It was my fault. I never faulted you for wanting to stay away, and I didn't dare show my face to you myself but...But I love you. I want you back. Nothing is right without you here."

"So no more running away then, for either of us. Once I get the PINpoint the other Jim is sending me I'll be there by your side again. I'll dye your hair for you so you don't have to see the reminder every day in the mirror until it grows back in."

"I..that would help." Then neither of them has to look at it. Jim's smile grows so soft when Felix bows his head in shame.

"I don't mind it white, but you'll look more yourself this way. Can go around in Tamriel and the Nexus freely without people asking questions."

"Thank you, Jim."

The days stretch into weeks. Every day Felix calls and every day Jim answers. It's not fair to have to rely solely on these machines with their electricity and signals to see Jim's face. Hear his voice. After everything that's happened to come this far and yet have the captain be so much farther away, in a place Felix can't reach. Too far for Felix to even fathom the distance involved. To even be sure Jim's real and this isn't just some intelligent recording left behind. Hearing his voice, seeing his expressions with a tiny delay reminding Felix he's somewhere in the Void. Somewhere Felix can't reach.

It's more than they've spoken to each other in months. Every day Jim sounds a little more relaxed until he's back to himself. Comfortable talking to Felix like he hasn't been in so long. It stirs something nearly forgotten in the conjurer, enough to scent the air uncertainly. He asks how Jim's day has gone and Jim gives him a smile that could outshine the rising sun. It's disarming, that smile. How can Jim still look at him that way? But he is, though Jim's stuck half a galaxy away he's smiling at Felix in that way that has always made a heat curl in the conjurer's stomach.

"What have I missed today?" The question is routine by now. Jim's come to realize by now that Felix doesn't often leave Jim's house in Iowa. Not until Stratos bullies him into leaving for a decent meal, or to get Felix fitted for new leathers, or to try taking up his drills and magic again. Felix sleeps on the couch so he can keep the terminal in sight otherwise and Jim tries not to keep the conjurer waiting. He's often stuck in meetings or with work and he can't shunt it off but it's a distraction at least. Felix has it so much worse stuck waiting with nothing to help pass the time.

And when Felix hesitates or chokes on his words Jim is right there, as much as he can be. When the tears sting and prick at Felix's eyes and he can't hold them at bay Jim's voice is there to soothe him as best he can just like Felix used to when Jim would wake screaming from his night terrors. He talks until Felix has himself under control and then walks the conjurer through the steps needed to turn the volume up enough so that Jim can be heard from the couch. He talks to Felix until the conjurer falls asleep.

"Good night, Felix." And that becomes routine, too.

Every day Felix calls. Every day Jim answers. Every night Jim talks until Felix is able to drift to sleep, wishing and dreaming for this to be over.

Until finally there's fingers gently brushing Felix's hair out of his face on a sleepy morning oppressively silent thanks to the softly falling snow outside. Jim's still in his dress uniform, PINpoint gripped in his free hand. Felix starts awake and tumbles right off the couch. No one else should be here. No one else had these coordinates except...

"Easy, easy. I've got you." Jim's pulling Felix to his feet and laughing and there's none of the slightly off tone or the time delay of the terminal. Warm hands are on Felix's shoulders.
"You-- You're finally here."
"I couldn't wait until this evening for you to call. I wanted to see you."

It's not a dream. It's not a dream it's real this time. Felix hesitates when he reaches up to touch Jim's face. Make sure he's real. There's no beard or sense of misplacement, this isn't a cruel joke. It's him. Jim's come back.

They embrace, there's tears. There's laughter, and Felix thinks that perhaps Jim is the only person in all the worlds that could still make him laugh. They won't let each other go for hours. It's only after they've cleaned up later that Jim takes Felix to his small and empty apartment in Yorktown to fix Felix's hair for him. Looking more like himself again puts the conjurer at ease. Teases more smiles out of him and more easily. He's feeling brave enough to follow Jim outside and to see Yorktown for himself.

There's an undeniable shock when Felix's gaze swings from the spotless streets and vertigo-inducing towers (because he's never encountered anything like those, even) out to the horizon, or rather, a different horizon up there.

"....What?"

He's gripping Jim's hand very tight head craned back as he spins round trying to make sense of the buildings curving through the sky above - and below?

More than anything Jim wants to show Felix how Yorktown looks from outside it, from the bridge of his ship as they approached what Bones had called a snowglobe sitting out in the Black. In many ways Bones isn't wrong. There's a beauty to Yorktown's design in how it makes use of the artificial atmosphere and gravity shields to the best of its ability. To the rows of greenhouses providing the colony's food supplies and the towering skyscrapers on the opposite side of the flooring tackling the colony's business, financial, and political needs. It's A Starfleet Base first and foremost but it's brought business and trade with it as all populous places will.

For now they will have to make do with the tour Jim is giving Felix. Walking him past the Command building where Jim's spending most of his time these days. Showing him the tiny hole in the wall fusion restaurant serving Vulcan/Chinese food. Back toward Jim's apartment building when a voice cuts through the crowd.

"Captain Kirk?" And Jim finds himself falling into the role without letting go of Felix's hand. His posture straightening and face clearing to calm and collected before he turns around.
"I'm off duty at the moment...." A glance at the uniform the man is wearing tells Jim all he needs to know, "Lieutenant."
"I know. Admiral Cartwright told me to deliver this to you right away, sir." He holds out a small container, no bigger than a shoe box. "These were all that was recovered of yours from the Enterprise, sir. She was adamant you get them right away."

The awe of it all still hasn't worn off, for Felix. That's going to take quite a long time, because every turn brings another impossible vista, some new sort of alien strolling by, another device or sound or hairdo that just strikes him as strange. But the raw shock has eased, so that instead of his head snapping around, eyes darting hither and yon every two minutes, he's settled into a pleasantly overwhelmed haze. No-one feels the need to pay him a second glance, and given how out of place he feels that's a rather odd feeling. A suit works just as well as an invisibility spell, it turns out. It makes him feel as if he and Jim are the only ones who actually see each other.

It's an odd frame of mind he's in, but he's happy just holding Jim's hand and taking this peculiar space walk. So it's particularly jarring when someone else calls Jim's name. Breaks the illusion. He's on alert immediately, expression guarded as he turns to study the man. His hand stays tight on Jim's, but otherwise he's keeping half a step back, avoiding drawing attention until he knows what this man wants.

But his expression softens when the box is produced. A wry, rueful smile quirks his lips. Poor Jim. There can't be much in there.

Jim's grip on Felix's hand is safe and sure even as his other hand clutches tight to the container he'd been given while they walk back to the apartment. They pass by the holo-monument to the lives lost and Jim makes sure to clear away any speck of litter that might have accumulated. He shuts his eyes and bows his head in a moment of silence before he leads Felix back up the winding road (and if he looks back for the restaurant he'll find they have gone up indeed despite the road appearing more or less flat) and back toward his quiet apartment.

"I didn't expect to get something like this."

Jim's voice is so quiet it would be easy to miss amid the hustle and bustle around them. He lets them back into the apartment and sets the container down at his kitchen table.

He opens the box.

There's precious little inside.

A damaged holo of George Kirk, Wynona, and Sam standing in front of their Iowa farmhouse. A burned book too damaged to read that still bears a few recognizable letters in Cyrodillic--remnants of one of the books Jim borrowed from Felix's childhood home in Bruma to try and teach himself the language. Sitting at the bottom is a partially melted pendant. Jim lifts it out, wiping away the soot staining the metal and it's only now that his expression has clouded. He can't give that to Felix now. Not a scarred ruined remnant of what should have been an oath to honor. To love. To cherish. It's too close to home. Too reflective of the damaged broken men standing here at Jim's table. Too much of a reminder of the paperwork gone of all the work he'd been doing in secret. Felix deserves better. Jim will get rid of it.

Felix is there, at Jim's side, and though he's curious he also isn't sure if he should take more than a glance at what's in there. He focuses on Jim, on staying close and reassuring for him. But he does sneak a look, because he is still Felix Caelus. A tiny noise escapes him because that pendant looks strangely familiar but...

"I don't remember that."
"It's nothing." The reply comes much too quickly and Jim's already looking away, dropping the ruined amulet back into the container in a rush. Felix reaches for it when Jim's gotten rid of it. It looks like something from his world, but it's not something he's ever given Jim. The moment Felix touches it he feels the faint energy emanating from it. It is from his world, the same warmth a healing spell ought to give just faintly coming off the pendant. No panic knifing at Felix. This is what it should feel like.

"When did you get this...?" There's a ringing in Felix's ears, his own voice distant as it sinks in what he's holding. Trying to make sense of this tiny little blessing being here in his hand in a town in the middle of the Void billions of miles from Jim's home planet let alone Felix's own world. Felix is still connected to Mara's light even now. Everything is going to be okay.

Jim sputters and shakes his head. Half aborted gestures and words as he cuts himself off time and again trying to explain away what it is Felix is holding in his hand.

"It's...I.."
"You do know what this is." Felix can see it in Jim's expression. The gravity of the symbolism this pendant carries.

Jim nods then.

"It would have been two years. So..." Jim's hand is rubbing the back of his neck now, his own gaze locked on to the charred pendant in Felix's hand. Does he say how long he'd planned it? How he'd held onto it even after they rescued Felix from the Runeblades' grasp? He sighs.
"Two years at Halloween."
"I got it way before that but..." Jim shrugs, "I never got the chance to ask you if you wanted it."

Is this happening right now? Felix is flushed now, suddenly questioning the last few months anew.

"But I never realized... I didn't think you were interested in that sort of arrangement. Although it's not the first time I've been mistaken there..."
"I'll have to start over on my work if you want it." Jim lifts his head finally and meets Felix's gaze again.
"Your work?"
"Your paperwork to make you a Federation citizen and qualified to be a civilian contractor aboard my ship. And...my husband. It's a loophole in the regulations, and I thought--" Nerves making Jim ramble now as he gestures vaguely.

Felix's eyes are wider than they were outside, the conjurer reaching out to grip Jim's arm with his free hand.

"You're... offering me a place in this world." Does he understand? "O-on your ship?" At Jim's side, always? It's that shocked and hopeful awe that breaks Jim out of his stupor. He runs his hand through his hair and swears in half a dozen languages as he takes the pendant from Felix's hand and drops down to one knee in front of the conjurer. Holds the amulet of Mara out with both hands and offers it for Felix to take.

"A place here with me." Jim confirms.

Felix looks uncertain of what he's doing right up to the moment Jim holds out the amulet so emphatically. He reaches down, accepting it, but not without wrapping both his hands over Jim's. Meeting his eyes.

"I don't know what I'll have to do for this, or.... all of what it will mean. But I don't have to. There is no place I would be except at your side." Felix isn't imagining the way the pendant warms with both their hands touching it.

"You...seriously?" Jim's getting to his feet with Felix tugging him up, an uncertain smile starting across his face.
"You didn't seriously think I was going to turn you down, did you?"
"Little bit." Jim laughs even as Felix is pulling his captain into his arms for a fervent kiss.

Everything is going to be okay.

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