A crochet contest? It’s kind of sweet (okay, tooth-rottingly sweet), and Jim catches himself smiling. At least it’s good to know the Tower isn’t being too tough on the kids (or some of them, anyway); Jim’s pretty sure he heard what he would call if he didn’t know any better, a dragon roaring, earlier. The mention of magic once again has his attention, and he tilts his head inquisitively. “What kind of magic helps you crochet?”
“I’m not sure anything around here is normal.” Jim leans back on his hands, the sleeves of his sweater dropping around his wrists; he should probably get clothes that fit a little better, but Spock had given him some that he claimed weren’t properly insulated for him, and honestly they were comfortable - besides, Jim hated being wasteful.
Sandry, who is a thread mage, cannot help but notice the fit of his clothes. As always she has the itch to pull out a needle and thread, to do something about it, but she has no needle or thread—but she is a thread mage, is she not? She doesn't need a needle and thread, all she would be doing is fixing the cuffs, and there's already threads in the cuff. All she would need to do is remove those threads, adjust the length, and use the existing thread to sew it back together.
She realizes belatedly that she's been staring at his sleeve cuff for what's probably been too long and glances away. Well, there's a way she can answer his question, and she looks back with a polite but confident smile.
"Would you mind if I fix the length of your sleeves? I think that will demonstrate what kind of magic helps me crochet. It won't take more than a couple minutes and you won't have to do anything at all. Unless, of course, you like them that length."
Sandry's elongated pause makes Jim tilt his head briefly, watching her for any sign of - what, he's not sure, distress maybe? But whatever she was thinking about didn't seem to have a negative impact, at least.
The question does get him to glance down at his hands, mitted in the sleeves as they are. The instinct to say, yeah sure go ahead actually...isn't his first inclination? Which is odd, because why wouldn't it be? It's not like he liked them longer, right?
Why would he? He wouldn't. Obviously. Would he?
There would be no...logical reason for that. "Uh..."
Jim shakes his head to clear the weird reticence away (because there was no reason for it, or at least, that's the hill he's dying on), sitting up and bringing his hands forward. "Sure, why not. Knock yourself out."
Sandry eyes him a bit suspiciously at his hesitation, but in the end he grants permission, so she'll trust him. This won't actually take her much effort to do, but she puts a concentrated look on her face mostly for his benefit, so he knows she's actually doing something. Though "doing something" becomes very quickly obvious.
The thread in the right cuff seam wriggles a bit before slithering out and on to the ground. Now free, the fabric in the cuff folds back on itself making a more appropriately length sleeve. The thread that was on the ground now raises back up in the air and sews itself back into the cuff. Satisfied with her work, Sandry repeats the process on the left sleeve. All in all it only takes about a minute for her to finish and at the end Jim has two properly shortened sleeves and Sandry has a satisfied smile on her face.
"There, that's much better, don't you think? And that's what I can do as a thread mage!"
Jim's not quite sure what he expected to happen, but his eyes widen in surprise at what inevitably does. His sweater is shifting, the fabric unraveling itself and reforming as Sandry bids it - through some kind of telekinetic force, apparently. He's heard some species with higher psi ratings could develop powers of that magnitude, but he'd never seen it himself.
Jim raises his other sleeve when the right one finishes, undisguised fascination overtaking his expression. Sandry finishes her work with a grin that Jim echoes, turning over his arms to look at the handiwork; it's just as stable and neat as it was when she started.
"That's incredible! Where did you learn that?" Jim runs his fingers over the new seam in wonder. Whatever vestiges of hesitation he might have been fighting with before appear to have been erased. "Does it only work on fabric?"
Sandry loves when people admire her work. It's not as flashy as her siblings' magic and she doesn't get to show it off very often; even if she's a thread mage she's also a noble, so she doesn't get to do her magic for a living. This was a fairly simple piece of magic all things considered but it was quite practical and she performed it well.
"I learned from my teacher Lark, who is also a thread mage. And yes, as the name implies, my magic is with threads; fibers, thread, cloth, that sort of thing. I can perform some more abstract magics with it as well, but it needs to be based in those concepts. Even though I can do the magic I also had to learn the craft; spinning, weaving, and sewing—I already knew how to embroider. Is there any magic where you're from?"
Jim just happens to be that rare breed of person who finds joy in learning new things, big or small. Flashy or not, it's telekinetic matter manipulation, and maybe it's just the fact that it's not common enough in his world but - damn, he thinks it's pretty cool. Sandry is also the second girl with powers Jim has met, what with Toph's Earthbending. Earthbending and a thread mage - are the two correlated, somehow, maybe tapping into the same kind of ability on different wavelengths?
"Sounds like a comprehensive education." Jim loops his arms around his knees, clasping his hands together. "Not as such. At least, not that I know of. If you don't mind my asking - you're human, right?"
He's kind of starting to wonder if there is magic and they just haven't discovered it yet. Wasn't that the saying? Magic is just science we don't understand yet.
Sandry is a bit startled by his question. Is she human? Well- of course she is. Does that imply that he knows people who aren't human? She's only ever met humans before- or so it seems. Has she met people who aren't human and simply not known it? Is it obvious?
"Yes, I am. Do you know people who aren't human?" There's no judgement in the question, just bright curiosity.
"I do. I live with one, actually." He'd thought perhaps it would be more common around Aldrip given everything he's heard, although to be fair, maybe it is and Spock is just the most visibly different. If he's not wearing a hat, that is, and they haven't bothered much with subterfuge on that front. "He hails from the planet Vulcan."
"I only ask because where I come from, humans can't wield that kind of ability," Jim makes a vague gesture between them to encompass the magic display. "At least, if they can, we haven't figured out how, yet."
Sandry thinks for a moment. "I didn't think about anyone not being human. Is it very different than being human? If we can spend time together and be friends, I that's what's really important," she says, completely seriously. Some people here don't seem to be very interested in getting along, but Sandry thinks that's what's most important of all in a place like this. Besides, being friends with someone who wasn't human sounds fun!
"Sometimes it can be different," Jim answers slowly, equally as serious. It was entirely possible that alien lifeforms were a foreign concept to Sandry, and the last thing Jim wanted to do was accidentally freak her out. "But different isn't a bad thing. We just have to be mindful of those differences and accommodate where we can for each other."
"My friend, he doesn't like being touched." It's one of the easiest differences to explain, so he starts there. "His species has an ability we call touch-telepathy; he can read thoughts and emotions with skin-on-skin contact. It's considered invasive for him to do that without someone's knowledge; and it's invasive for him, too, having to feel all of that from someone. Humans tend to feel really...intensely."
Sandry takes a few moments to think about that. Such a thing seems... fantastical to her. To be able to know someone's thoughts and emotions just by touching them? She never would have thought about it... well, ever.
"That must be difficult. I don't think people would think about that. I've never heard of that, I wouldn't have known. I'll have to be more careful about that sort of thing. There's so many strange things here to learn about! Do you know of any other things I should be careful of?"
It seems Sandry's not the only one with a kind of magic in her world. Funny how that works, isn't it?
"It's alright. He's unique, my friend. He wouldn't have expected you to know." Jim's lips pull into a fond smile on their own, as is so often then way when thinking about Spock. "None I can think off, of the top of my head. But I'm sure everyone has their own rules and preferences."
He shrugs a little, hands resting on his knees, legs still folded criss-cross. "This place is definitely full of surprise."
Sandry opens her mouth to reply in agreement when both their tablets beep alarmingly and she jumps in surprise. She had completely forgotten about the "challenges" for these rooms, or- perhaps she simply didn't care about them in the first place. She's much more interested in the people she's meeting here.
With a tiny sigh she fishes the tablet out of her pocket (is it pocket sized? I'm pretending it's pocket sized) and looks at the screen with a small frown.
"Share a secret you’ve never said out loud...? Is that what we need to do for this 'challenge'?"
The tablet beeps insistently, and Jim suppresses a sigh, rubbing the calluses on his palms against the seam of his pants, a subconscious tick. He's already drawing a big fat blank - well, not blank, but not anything he's willing to say to such a sweet girl. He has no doubt Sandry has probably been through something - it seemed all the kids here in Aldrip had, and of the things Jim doesn't speak of, his childhood holds a great number of them; he knows how that can go - but nothing he can think of is something he'd be willing to dump at her feet.
They're not things anyone should have to deal with, frankly.
"I think so. Seems like an...interesting challenge." That's one word for it, anyway. If his smile is slightly strained, well, Jim doubts he'll be called on it. "I'm not sure I can think of anything."
Sandry is, unfortunately, sharp for her age, especially in spite of her friendly demeanor. And like, well, probably every kid, she thinks she deserves to be taken more seriously than her age implies. She gives Jim a distrustful look and speaks in a slightly imperious voice.
"You can't think of anything, or you can't think of anything you'd tell a kid? I'll have you know that I've lived through two plagues, pirates, and now assist my uncle in running his realm. I'm hardly about to wilt from a bit of hardship."
She does, in fact, think rather highly of herself in that regard. She knows that she's gone through much more than most kids her age, and that wasn't even mentioning the earthquake, forest fires, or the fact that the first plague left her trapped in a cell in the darkness after witnessing her parents' corpses. Personally, Sandry is proud of where she is after all that she's gone through and doesn't appreciate it when adults look down on her.
Jim almost laughs, surprised, when Sandry catches him out, but he has enough wherewithal to hold it in - it's not that he's laughing at her so much at himself, for being so obviously transparent. He shakes his head, raising a hand peaceably as Sandry lists her credentials - yeah, he was right, none of these kids were normal, it seemed. "I'm sorry, I meant no offense. I didn't meant to imply that you would."
"Some things aren't meant for anyone's ears." Jim admits, the shadow of a helluva lot of something crossing over his expression; he doesn't try to hide it this time, but hopefully it at least presses home the point that he's serious. "Doesn't matter how old you are, it doesn't make it better."
When Bones, his friend and now CMO, read his medical records (the full medical records and not just the declassified portion), the man had been a wreck. Jim had felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin with the looks he kept giving him. He knows the holos haunt Bones, and why wouldn't they? The kind of shit that had to happen for a 15-year-old kid to get a full osteogenic regeneration? Horror show, especially for a parent.
Sandry isn't convinced he's not just making excuses for her sake, but she'll let it slide if he is. There's not much purpose in belaboring the point with the answer he gave her just now, she won't get anything more out of him. Still, they are supposed to.
"You can't think of anything? Not one little thing? Not even something like, 'oh I didn't know I was supposed to peel a fruit before eating it'? It doesn't have to be your deepest darkest secret, after all."
Sandry has thought of an important secret that she's going to share, but her point stands.
"I'm allergic to most fruit," Jim admits, albeit sheepishly. That's definitely not the point, Jim, but it is kind of ironic. "The instructions said 'a secret you've never said out loud'. Seriously, I don't...have many of those."
To be fair, it is true. There's the secrets he keeps, and the rest of it - there's not much point. Most of Jim's life is up for public consumption; the circumstances of his birth, his family life, his career at Starfleet and all it's entailed. The parts that aren't? He's probably drunkenly rambled them to Bones at one point or another. "...I wasn't sure I could graduate from the Academy?"
His tablet flashes a big red X on the screen - clearly, that didn't cut it.
Sandry gives Jim a disbelieving look. "You didn't try very hard."
But she'll let him off the hook on this one. Instead it is her turn. Sandry gives a small sigh. "I don't think the way my parents lived was right. They frivolously spent the money they earned from their lands on travel and adventure rather than take their responsibility to their land seriously."
A green checkmark flashes on Sandry's tablet and she gives a slightly sad smile. "I still loved them very much though."
"Hey! I am trying." There's no right way to argue with a teenager and not sound like an idiot. Believe him, he knows, he's been through this with Peter already. For all Jim purports to be an adult, however, he's not yet out of his twenties, and can, occasionally, be goaded appropriately.
"I'm sorry," A frown touches the corners of his mouth, but he nods in acknowledgement. "Of course. People make bad choices, but you love them anyway."
"My mom - I still love her, too." An offering, even though it doesn't light his tablet up green. Nothing he hasn't been over before, unfortunately. "Despite her choice to leave, uh, me and my brother."
It's true, there really is nothing quite so humbling and frustrating as arguing with a teenager. But even though his tablet doesn't acknowledge his admittance (for whatever reason), it shows Sandry that he is at least engaging with her, not just writing her off as a silly kid. She'll forgive him for not (in her opinion) trying very hard at the challenge.
She also doesn't know whether he means leaving in the literal sense or a more euphemistic "leaving" like in her situation. It's not appropriate to ask, either, so she goes with a more generic response. "It's hard when the people we love aren't in our lives anymore, isn't it? I'm very fortunate to have found a new family I love; I hope you've found new loved ones in your life as well."
Lark, Daja, Tris, Briar, Uncle Vedris... even Rosethorn and Niko. She loves them all so dearly, her life has been so full since she arrived in Emelan in her mourning clothes.
Jim knows exactly why his tablet isn't lighting up, because this Tower wants something from him. Something he's never said to anybody else, the things he dare not disturb. This place - not just the Tower, but hell, Aldrip - is geared towards rattling the bars of the cages they construct for themselves.
He really does mean leaving - going off planet, leaving them in the care of their shitty stepfather. Choosing her career over her family, because she couldn't bear the reminder of her lost husband - Jim wishes he could have held onto the anger he used to have about it, because now he's just tired. He hasn't seen his mother in years, though they've started calling each other more, since he joined Starfleet. He has no idea where his brother is, though, hasn't spoken to Sam since the day his older brother ran away - since Jim passed him on the road in a stolen car, fourteen and fearless and so hurt.
"I'm glad to hear that. Yeah, I would say that I have." His smile returns, a ghost of a thing upon his lips, thinking of his crew. "I hope we're able to find our way back to them from this place, someday."
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expiationlogs2024-05-13 12:27 am
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“I’m not sure anything around here is normal.” Jim leans back on his hands, the sleeves of his sweater dropping around his wrists; he should probably get clothes that fit a little better, but Spock had given him some that he claimed weren’t properly insulated for him, and honestly they were comfortable - besides, Jim hated being wasteful.
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She realizes belatedly that she's been staring at his sleeve cuff for what's probably been too long and glances away. Well, there's a way she can answer his question, and she looks back with a polite but confident smile.
"Would you mind if I fix the length of your sleeves? I think that will demonstrate what kind of magic helps me crochet. It won't take more than a couple minutes and you won't have to do anything at all. Unless, of course, you like them that length."
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The question does get him to glance down at his hands, mitted in the sleeves as they are. The instinct to say, yeah sure go ahead actually...isn't his first inclination? Which is odd, because why wouldn't it be? It's not like he liked them longer, right?
Why would he? He wouldn't. Obviously.
Would he?There would be no...logical reason for that. "Uh..."
Jim shakes his head to clear the weird reticence away (because there was no reason for it,
or at least, that's the hill he's dying on), sitting up and bringing his hands forward. "Sure, why not. Knock yourself out."no subject
The thread in the right cuff seam wriggles a bit before slithering out and on to the ground. Now free, the fabric in the cuff folds back on itself making a more appropriately length sleeve. The thread that was on the ground now raises back up in the air and sews itself back into the cuff. Satisfied with her work, Sandry repeats the process on the left sleeve. All in all it only takes about a minute for her to finish and at the end Jim has two properly shortened sleeves and Sandry has a satisfied smile on her face.
"There, that's much better, don't you think? And that's what I can do as a thread mage!"
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Jim raises his other sleeve when the right one finishes, undisguised fascination overtaking his expression. Sandry finishes her work with a grin that Jim echoes, turning over his arms to look at the handiwork; it's just as stable and neat as it was when she started.
"That's incredible! Where did you learn that?" Jim runs his fingers over the new seam in wonder. Whatever vestiges of hesitation he might have been fighting with before appear to have been erased. "Does it only work on fabric?"
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"I learned from my teacher Lark, who is also a thread mage. And yes, as the name implies, my magic is with threads; fibers, thread, cloth, that sort of thing. I can perform some more abstract magics with it as well, but it needs to be based in those concepts. Even though I can do the magic I also had to learn the craft; spinning, weaving, and sewing—I already knew how to embroider. Is there any magic where you're from?"
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"Sounds like a comprehensive education." Jim loops his arms around his knees, clasping his hands together. "Not as such. At least, not that I know of. If you don't mind my asking - you're human, right?"
He's kind of starting to wonder if there is magic and they just haven't discovered it yet. Wasn't that the saying? Magic is just science we don't understand yet.
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"Yes, I am. Do you know people who aren't human?" There's no judgement in the question, just bright curiosity.
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"I only ask because where I come from, humans can't wield that kind of ability," Jim makes a vague gesture between them to encompass the magic display. "At least, if they can, we haven't figured out how, yet."
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"My friend, he doesn't like being touched." It's one of the easiest differences to explain, so he starts there. "His species has an ability we call touch-telepathy; he can read thoughts and emotions with skin-on-skin contact. It's considered invasive for him to do that without someone's knowledge; and it's invasive for him, too, having to feel all of that from someone. Humans tend to feel really...intensely."
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"That must be difficult. I don't think people would think about that. I've never heard of that, I wouldn't have known. I'll have to be more careful about that sort of thing. There's so many strange things here to learn about! Do you know of any other things I should be careful of?"
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"It's alright. He's unique, my friend. He wouldn't have expected you to know." Jim's lips pull into a fond smile on their own, as is so often then way when thinking about Spock. "None I can think off, of the top of my head. But I'm sure everyone has their own rules and preferences."
He shrugs a little, hands resting on his knees, legs still folded criss-cross. "This place is definitely full of surprise."
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With a tiny sigh she fishes the tablet out of her pocket (is it pocket sized? I'm pretending it's pocket sized) and looks at the screen with a small frown.
"Share a secret you’ve never said out loud...? Is that what we need to do for this 'challenge'?"
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They're not things anyone should have to deal with, frankly.
"I think so. Seems like an...interesting challenge." That's one word for it, anyway. If his smile is slightly strained, well, Jim doubts he'll be called on it. "I'm not sure I can think of anything."
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"You can't think of anything, or you can't think of anything you'd tell a kid? I'll have you know that I've lived through two plagues, pirates, and now assist my uncle in running his realm. I'm hardly about to wilt from a bit of hardship."
She does, in fact, think rather highly of herself in that regard. She knows that she's gone through much more than most kids her age, and that wasn't even mentioning the earthquake, forest fires, or the fact that the first plague left her trapped in a cell in the darkness after witnessing her parents' corpses. Personally, Sandry is proud of where she is after all that she's gone through and doesn't appreciate it when adults look down on her.
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"Some things aren't meant for anyone's ears." Jim admits, the shadow of a helluva lot of something crossing over his expression; he doesn't try to hide it this time, but hopefully it at least presses home the point that he's serious. "Doesn't matter how old you are, it doesn't make it better."
When Bones, his friend and now CMO, read his medical records (the full medical records and not just the declassified portion), the man had been a wreck. Jim had felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin with the looks he kept giving him. He knows the holos haunt Bones, and why wouldn't they? The kind of shit that had to happen for a 15-year-old kid to get a full osteogenic regeneration? Horror show, especially for a parent.
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"You can't think of anything? Not one little thing? Not even something like, 'oh I didn't know I was supposed to peel a fruit before eating it'? It doesn't have to be your deepest darkest secret, after all."
Sandry has thought of an important secret that she's going to share, but her point stands.
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To be fair, it is true. There's the secrets he keeps, and the rest of it - there's not much point. Most of Jim's life is up for public consumption; the circumstances of his birth, his family life, his career at Starfleet and all it's entailed. The parts that aren't? He's probably drunkenly rambled them to Bones at one point or another. "...I wasn't sure I could graduate from the Academy?"
His tablet flashes a big red X on the screen - clearly, that didn't cut it.
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But she'll let him off the hook on this one. Instead it is her turn. Sandry gives a small sigh. "I don't think the way my parents lived was right. They frivolously spent the money they earned from their lands on travel and adventure rather than take their responsibility to their land seriously."
A green checkmark flashes on Sandry's tablet and she gives a slightly sad smile. "I still loved them very much though."
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"I'm sorry," A frown touches the corners of his mouth, but he nods in acknowledgement. "Of course. People make bad choices, but you love them anyway."
"My mom - I still love her, too." An offering, even though it doesn't light his tablet up green. Nothing he hasn't been over before, unfortunately. "Despite her choice to leave, uh, me and my brother."
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She also doesn't know whether he means leaving in the literal sense or a more euphemistic "leaving" like in her situation. It's not appropriate to ask, either, so she goes with a more generic response. "It's hard when the people we love aren't in our lives anymore, isn't it? I'm very fortunate to have found a new family I love; I hope you've found new loved ones in your life as well."
Lark, Daja, Tris, Briar, Uncle Vedris... even Rosethorn and Niko. She loves them all so dearly, her life has been so full since she arrived in Emelan in her mourning clothes.
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He really does mean leaving - going off planet, leaving them in the care of their shitty stepfather. Choosing her career over her family, because she couldn't bear the reminder of her lost husband - Jim wishes he could have held onto the anger he used to have about it, because now he's just tired. He hasn't seen his mother in years, though they've started calling each other more, since he joined Starfleet. He has no idea where his brother is, though, hasn't spoken to Sam since the day his older brother ran away - since Jim passed him on the road in a stolen car, fourteen and fearless and so hurt.
"I'm glad to hear that. Yeah, I would say that I have." His smile returns, a ghost of a thing upon his lips, thinking of his crew. "I hope we're able to find our way back to them from this place, someday."