James "Jim" T. Kirk (
finalfrontiersman) wrote in
expiationlogs2024-08-01 03:31 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
[ Trek Crew Catch-All ] And you may ask yourself
Who: Jim Kirk, Spock, Tendi, Bones & friends.
Where: The Trek house!
What: Catch-all for the month's nonsense.
Content Warnings: Profanity. Potential for discussions of survivor's guilt and Gnosia-related trauma.Old man yaoi.

See below for closed starters! This post will serve as a catch-all for the Trek cast~
Contact for plotting:
James "Jim" Tiberius Kirk |
trickster88, PM, Discord by Request/Game Discord
S'chn T'gai Spock |
askefise, Game Discord
D'Vana Tendi |
posolutely, Game Discord
Leonard "Bones" McCoy | PM, Game Discord, Discord: chatnoir
Where: The Trek house!
What: Catch-all for the month's nonsense.
Content Warnings: Profanity. Potential for discussions of survivor's guilt and Gnosia-related trauma.

See below for closed starters! This post will serve as a catch-all for the Trek cast~
Contact for plotting:
no subject
That's a look.
[Says the one in a sweatshirt and leggings in the middle of summer. In her defense, she didn't really pack, so much as throw the first things she grabbed into a bag. But it's fine, she'll survive. No matter how anxious and nervous as she might be, she can't be mad at Bones. When the dog bounds towards her, she drops to her knees to greet him, a small smile finally showing up again on her face.]
Hey buddy! [She is absolutely going to make sure Bones gets all the pets he deserves.]
What are you making? [She's trying to keep it light, even if she's rocking on her feet when she stands again. She had ate plenty of sandwiches and other snacks he had brought in to STEM, so it wasn't too much of a surprise to see him baking, or whatever it is he's doing right now. Cooking away his feelings? She knows, as bad as she feels after everything that happened, he has to feel worse. He's the one that said and did all those awful things. Having no control over yourself like that? That had to be horrible.]
no subject
[ Jim tilts his head, smiling as Bones happily absorbs all the pets he can get. Attention whore to the max; he'd pouted for a full 24 hours after Jim and Spock had stumbled home, exhausted from their week of madness. Funny that something that caused so much damage could be trivialized down to the interruption it had made in a dog's routine - Jim had sleepily laughed about that one for thirty minutes, until Spock had all but hit him with a pillow to get him to settle. ]
Cookies. Chocolate chunk with cinnamon. Smells good, right? [ The aroma coming from the kitchen does appear to confirm his claims - and likely tells her how much cinnamon he used.
Cooking away his feelings - well, the cooking is only part of it. They're for her, though of course Jim will likely just pretend it was a casual decision. If he actually manages to make a decent batch, he'll be handing them out to everyone he and Spock crossed paths with
there were a LOT of people in cages...]Come on in. Make yourself at home. [ Jim opens the door wider to allow Gwen entry, retreating back towards the kitchen to fuss with the oven. He manages to shove two trays full of cookies into the oven, cranking the hand-timer for twenty minutes. ] Son of a -
no subject
It smells amazing, actually. [He's not the world's best chef or anything, but she knows he can make edible things. Once he lets her inside, she trails behind, following him into the kitchen. She's been here before, of course, so she knows her way around. Still, she stays close by, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter.]
Can I help with anything...?
no subject
He's been improving, since the situation demanded it! The future doesn't exactly lend itself to cooking being a necessary skill. If he's cooking, he's charring something into an edible state over a fire because he's stranded somewhere. Pike liked to cook, as a hobby, but Jim had never taken up with it himself.
He does kind of get it now, though, even if trying to figure out new recipes so he doesn't get bored of the same three things is a pain in the ass, and even if he gets the steps wrong some of the time (ask Spock for the specific stats and Jim will whack you with a spoon). ]
Nah, these are almost done. Actually - why don't we make some hot chocolate to go with them? [ Jim busies himself with prepping the next tray, scraping the remains of the cookie dough out of the bowl and beginning to shape it into appropriately-sized cookie balls. He points to a cabinet off to the side, glancing to Gwen. ] There's cocoa powder in there.
[ Why is it stored with the liquor, amid bottles of rum and whiskey? Jim thinks he's hilarious, that's why. ]
no subject
She nods at his request. While she knows her way around the house and where most of the snack spots are, she's lost on the cooking supplies. Thankfully, Jim points out the right cabinet for her to go for. She raises an eyebrow at the liquor hidden away next to the cocoa powder, of all things, but she removes the container and closes the door behind her.
She'd be lying if she said she didn't eye the liquor before she closed the cabinet door. She's never even really drank before, if you didn't count the sips of beer her dad had her try, just to make her repulsed by it. It worked, because she never had any desire to try it. But damn if all the bad feelings lately didn't make her wonder if alcohol would help. Wasn't that a thing, drinking until you were numb? Then again, with her metabolism, there was no telling how much it would take for it to even do anything to her.
So hot chocolate, it was. She knows what to do from here. She grabs the milk from the fridge, fishes around for the sugar and salt, and mixes it all into a pot she finds and puts on the stove. Even if he didn't exactly ask for her to do it all, she's just restless and wants to do something. She needed to fill the awkward silence with action.]
no subject
Jim could be the first to tell her the obvious, that it didn't really work - but that's more of a do-as-I-say, not-as-I-do situation. He's been trying to do better since Claude helped pull him up by his bootstraps (re: shamed him, as he deserved), but historically, Jim has most certainly turned to alcohol. It doesn't solve the problem, doesn't stop the hurt - but it also hadn't stopped him trying.
He lets the beat of silence pervade for a minute, scooping cookie dough and rolling it into balls for the next sheet. Gwen seems wholly focused on the task at hand, so Jim keeps his gaze fixed on his own when he breaks the silence. Sometimes it's easier to be honest when you don't feel like you're being stared at. ]
Peter texted me. I take it he came home?
[ Given the fact that there was no spider taking up residence on the Starfleet house couch, he has to assume Gwen let him come home (as if it was ever in question). ]
no subject
And brings up one of the things she doesn't really want to talk about, but knew was coming.
Sigh.]
Um. Yeah. He finally did. He's there now. [And why is she not? They made up, they were good, but she still wanted some air. To clear her head, and make sense of everything she's been feeling the past few weeks. It's been a lot. From the Gnosia mess, to Peter's brief stink away, she's just tired.]
no subject
Whatever the case, Gwen was always welcome here. So instead of asking, instead of pressing, Jim continues scooping the dough, making imprecise lines of doughy balls on the tray. Better to let her open up in her own time. That's how this worked, with them - and Jim was usually the one to start. ]
I've never baked cookies before. Not like this. [ There's too much dough on one of his cookies, so he splits it and tries to roll it again. ] I knew an Admiral once who insisted cooking manually was fun, but I never believed him. I think I'm getting it now, though.
no subject
Yeah? What, did you have a computer that just printed them out for you whenever you wanted them? [She's honestly just kidding. She figures, if anything, they probably had a chef on the ship that prepared meals for them. You never need to know how to cook when you always have someone to cook for you, after all. It was a privileged mindset for her day and time, but in the future? Maybe they have things like food crises handed and people didn't have to worry about going hungry.]
no subject
Well... [ Jim has to think about that for a second, and how to explain a replicator without getting into the weeds of it right off the bat. She's not technically wrong. ] Yeah, basically. It's called a replicator; essentially, it's a matter resequencer. It can recombine recycled material building blocks, based on the molecular structures it has on file.
Solved a lot of famine crises in the 22nd century. Modernly, we use corn and wheat as a sustainable resource base to run them. [ Jim finishes his slightly-misshapen line of cookie dough balls with a satisfied nod. ] Not bad for a first try, I think. Don't tell me if it is, just let me be disappointed when i taste one.
no subject
It's just-- [Gwen sighs. She really isn't the biggest fan of opening up like this, but.. Jim's been super understanding about everything she's shared with him before now. Even if a part of her has been uneasy seeing him again, she still trusts him. And who better to understand what it's like to find an alternate version of someone you care about?]
I think.. he thinks I only care about him because of my Peter. Which-- I don't know, maybe there's like. A part of me that does? But he's not the same person as my best friend. They don't even look alike. I don't think you can find someone that's more bubbly and kind than Peter. But my Peter? He was quiet, reserved, and...selfish, when it mattered the most.
[She doesn't have to tell Jim all of this, but once she starts talking, the words just start flowing. Whoops.]
-- Wait. You're serious? You're actually serious? [She might actually laugh now, because she really was just making a joke. Wow.]
That's--- actually really cool? You really are like the real life Jetsons or something. [They travel through space, eat fancy replicated food. What else? Flying cars? Teleporters? He's really opened a can of worms by telling her this.]
no subject
Hopefully, seeing him back in the cozy element of this little cottage by the shore, baking cookies, is far enough removed from the horror of the warehouse as to help ease the memories. Jim's not pressing the issue - well, he probably will, in terms of talking - but pressing on Gwen's comfort zone? No, he's well aware that wouldn't be helpful. He's had...some experience there, himself.
He listens, hands still working the dough for the next line of cookies on the sheet, focused on the task so Gwen doesn't have to deal with him staring at her as she explains. He does look up at the tail end, empathy clear in his expression. A far cry from the crazed, haunted-madman situation he portrayed, whilst under the influence.
It's true - he does understand. He really, really does. In fact, he was worried that Spock's experience with his own Jim was coloring his opinion too much - that Jim would never be able to match up. He understands now that it's...well, it's still a worry in some ways, but largely false. Largely a product of his own problems, and not a reflection on Spock. That Peter hasn't yet reached this conclusion - it was hard won. Jim's not necessarily surprised. ]
He is the same, in the ways that matter. [ There's no use pretending that he's not. That Gwen would have cared for Peter as immediately as she did if he weren't a version of someone she already had a connection to - it's impossible to parse, with how inextricably the two are linked. ] But...caring for one person can never replace or erase caring for another. Both can be true.
Spock doesn't look like my Spock, either. I don't look like his Jim. We're both different, in some respects. But like I said - we're the same in the ways that truly make us...us. You know what I mean? [ Jim can't imagine Peter quiet, or reserved. But then, he could never have imagined his Spock being as congenial (it's the only word that comes to mind, even if Jim is also the only person in the universe that would ever ascribe that to the Vulcan) as the one that resides here in Aldrip. His Spock back home is - angry. Persnickety, snappish. Their bickering has more bite, a product of a different universe. ] Peter will come around. He'll realize it, eventually. You just - keep showing up for each other, and it'll get through.
I'm sorry, about your Peter. [ Jim's tone gentles, the last line of cookies on the sheet completed, hands resting in the dough bowl. ] It's never easy, when someone you care about lets you down.
Would I joke about something like this? The future is awesome. [ Jim grins, eyebrows rising, before he turns to find an oven mitt - yeah, he's burned the shit out of himself more than once, forgetting that the antique appliance actually got hot. ] Uh...the what? What are 'Jetsons'?
no subject
I didn't... tell you the whole story. Peter didn't just die. He was tired of being bullied and feeling weak. He took this formula one of our teachers made and turned into a giant Lizard creature. He attacked our school, and tried to kill his bully. He said he just wanted to be special, like me. His last actions were out of jealousy and anger. [She couldn't be sure if it was the formula that made him the monster, because, clearly...other Peters could gain power that didn't corrupt them and turn them into monsters. She couldn't see her boyfriend falling like that. Even messing up the way he did now, it was because he didn't want to hurt her feelings. He was thinking about her, albeit a bit irrationally. His heart felt more pure and kind, even having lost Ben. Maybe it was because they didn't want power, but got it anyway? Maybe just the fact that he sought it out was the problem? She wasn't sure, but sometimes it hurt to think about how many Peters became this amazing hero, but hers....failed, in the worst way possible.]
It sounds awesome. [She wants to ask more, but will he tell her more?] The Jetsons was the old TV show, something my dad watched when he was a kid. It was about a family in the future, only it was like...maybe thirty years in the future now? So not nearly as far as you and Spock. But it had flying cars, smart homes, zoom calls-- a bunch of stuff we have now, but also the whole printed food thing. Oh, and instead of elevators they had these tubes that shot you from place to place.
no subject
Jim takes the new information in stride - that is, with only a minute furrow appearing in his brow. Reconciling Gwen's words with the picture of Peter that he has - the only one he can have, this bubbly, other-universe version of him - is no easy task. Still, as he said, people are complicated. They can make the wrong decision for the right reason just as easily as anything else. ]
People aren't defined by any one moment. Or...they shouldn't be. [ At last, Jim says something, slowly, choosing his words carefully after the beat of silence that follows Gwen's admission. Blue eyes turn to her, vibrant and full of empathy. He's not judging her Peter, even knowing this, and maybe that's part of what's eating her inside - the idea that other people will think poorly of his memory. ] And it doesn't make one better or worse than the other. We're all just...people. Everyone does the best with what they've got.
[ Jim moves to rinse his hands, dipping into thought for a moment. How easily it parallels his journey versus his counterpart in another life - Jim doesn't have to like the dots he's connecting. He turns, reaching out to squeeze Gwen's shoulder gently as he levels with her. ] I'm sorry that your Peter didn't get to find out what his best truly was.
Not bad. And always getting better. [ Aw hell, why not? Shit. How much more could they break the universe anyway? And no, that's not a challenge. ] Optimistic, putting that only thirty years ahead of the present. What's a smart home supposed to be?
No tubes. Well, turbolifts - which are essentially elevators, on a starship, but they operate both vertically and horizontally because of the gravity shift - I'm getting off track. We have Jeffries tubes, but they're not pressurized. And transporter pads, which I think I've mentioned, right?
no subject
It's just-- every other Peter I've met, they've been this amazing person. A hero. Not perfect, but so good. And in my world... he messed up, and never got a second chance.
[That's life, for you. Not fair. It rarely seems to be, especially for spiders like her and Peter.]
Oh, so it's like-- a digital assistant that controls the house? They're connected to the phones and computers and what-not, and all you have to do is be like "Hey Siri" or "Hey Alexa", and it'd turn on your lights, or adjust the thermostat, or play music. Whatever you wanted, as long as it was connected to that system. My house isn't that fancy, but it's a pretty standard thing on everyone's cellphone these days.
[As Jim rambles about his turbo lifts and Jeffries tubes, Gwen can't help but laugh.]
No, that's sounds exactly like what I was saying. Just more elevator like. What are transporter pads, though?
no subject
Sometimes our mistakes have consequences that we can't recover from. It's not his fault, Gwen it's - just his circumstances. [ No, it's not fair. Spock Prime's mistake cost Jim's entire timeline so much but - there was nothing anybody could do about it. ] And ours. Yours. You wouldn't be you without him, too.
Oh, like the computer? [ Yeah, he's got no concept of Siri or Alexa. Antiquated to the point of a head tilt and quizzical gaze. Which is evident by his next question: ] Or are they androids?
[ Yeah, they've got androids. But the computer is what controls the ship's climate controls and things of that nature. ] We have that. Aboard ship, everything is run by the computer. Androids have a more advanced intelligence.
It's a dematerialization system. We use it to transport matter - people, cargo - from one point to another by converting them into an energy pattern and reassembling them.
no subject
She just wished it could have happened differently, and didn't have to lose her best friend.]
Yeah, I guess. [He's not wrong, at least, that his influence is what made her want to be a better Spider-Woman. That losing him had pushed her to do even more good in her community. But still.]
Um. Yeah. A computer. More like an AI on a computer, I guess? Not like a take-over-the-world kind of AI. It's only capable of simple things, but they're pretty cool. [She can only imagine what the scope of it on his ship would be, though. Especially that far into the future. It probably made Siri look like a child's play thing. ]
Wait, wait-- dematerialization? Isn't that-- but that's basically just killing you, and recreating you in another point in space, right?? [It's a scientific theory, but... just a theory, in her time. And even if it was possible, is it ethical?? Jim seems comfortable with it, though, and she tends to trust his judgement, but...still.]
no subject
Gotcha. We have something similar running the main systems on the Enterprise. [ That is, essentially, what the computer system is for. It doesn't have full control over everything, isn't encouraged to a certain level of cognition - since the debate over classified lifeforms still rages on. He'd akin it to the debates on bodily autonomy in Gwen's time - when does life begin, and what, precisely, constitutes it?
He chuckles and dries his hands on the towel, shrugging slightly. ] Some people believe so. The thing is, it's the same atoms? The transporter converts you into an energy pattern, transits you through the system to your target location, and reassembles you - but it's still you. It's not taking your consciousness and destroying your body so you have nowhere to go. Even if something happened in transit, you can be emergency-beamed to a secondary location, and the effect would be the same.
We actually just recently discovered the equation to beam aboard a ship while it's at warp - that's a step above light speed. [ Jim tacks on the end, realizing belatedly he might not have mentioned that before. ]