driftfleet | Captain's Log 04 - It's a Rock Party

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Captain's Log 04 - It's a Rock Party

Who: Jim Kirk + You
Broadcast: Yes
Action: Yes - either on the Tourist or the Planet (this post will be functioning as a semi-overflow)
When: Nowish

[ Hello, fellow Drifters. Today you shall find one Captain Kirk, currently of the Tourist, smiling into the camera - perhaps a bit to delighted for everyone's comfort, so if you know what's good for you turn off the broadcast now. Or stick around. It's really 50/50 with him some days. He clears his throat, for a moment attempting to look serious outside his obvious delight. ]

So, first things first, some house keeping -

For those who don't know, I'm James Tiberius Kirk, Captain of the Tourist, newly minted a few weeks ago. Please just call me Jim or Kirk, though. Any problems with the Tourist or her crew can be directed to me, or if I am not available you can relay a message to my first mate - Fenris.

[ Let that sink in everyone and then think real hard about if you want to go that route ever. ]

Now, with that out of the way...

[ His face resumes its delight. ]

Since we're all sharing what little treasures we've been getting from the planet we're all on, I thought I would join in the fun.

[ He messes with something off camera, and everyone will be treated to the dulcet tones if the The Beastie Boys. Kirk is bobbing his head and every now and then either strumming an air guitar or beating on air drums.

The song ends and his grin is so very pleased with itself. ]

Words to live by, my fellow Drifters. Words to live by.

_{[ ooc: Inside this post will be a section for continuations of planet mingle threads if we have not already started one somewhere else! Feel free to add one here if I miss yours or if you would like to start one since I'll also be putting up the original starters from the mingle. ]}

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[That is a much more depressing conversation for a much less depressing time. Tell him more about your world and century, Kirk. It's a lot more hopeful than his.]

Well that's how you beat the actual impossible, isn't it.

[It's not a question at all, it's a statement from a kindred spirit. Adalwolfe flashes Kirk a wicked grin, leaving no doubt that he catches Kirk's rule-breaking meaning.]

I have a reputation too, for getting the impossible or at least the incredibly unlikely done. If my experience was anything like yours, my guess is they didn't actually reward you for your creativity?

[He rolls a bit, sidling up against Kirk for a bit of warmth as the sun slowly sinks into the sea, in no great hurry but still letting a bit of the heat out of the air as stars wink on in the velvet sky it drags into being behind.]

It took a bit, but eventually, yes.

_{[ His arms shifted, wrapping loosely around Hawke, happy to soak up his extra warmth as the sand began to cool, losing the sun's warmth. He still tingled in spots from earlier contact, bringing his head in closer so their foreheads together. Fingers flicked back and forth in butterfly caresses. ]}

I did become captain of a star ship, after all. I do think it gives them particular delight when they have cause to dress me down though.

_{[ His mind flickered back to a memory though, dressed in his formal red suit from the academy, looking down at a proud Admiral Pike as the man reached up to pin an emblem to his jacket, took his hand and said "I am relieved", though there is a note of humor in his tone. ]}

[Adalwolfe hums happily under his breath at Kirk's arms sliding around him and he does the same in turn, comfortable and pleased at the gentle enjoyment of each others warmth and the memory of Kirk's he can practically see in his head. A graying man in the wheelchair, uniform of understated white and gray in stark contrast to the bright red on Kirk. There's a private joke shared between them, relieved in both senses of the word, and Hawke chuckles at his mind's eye for filling in all that much.

Only he's not just imagining it. How could he be? He's never seen anything like those uniforms, or that lecture hall, or Admiral Pike as he somehow knows is the man in the wheelchair's name.

Adalwolfe cracks an eye open, loathe to sit up and he does at least look at Kirk.]

I saw that.

[He explains with a bit of wonder, not sure how that's happening. Emotional transference he knew was a side effect of prolonged contact on this planet, but anything further he hadn't found out because he rarely lets himself touch many people for long enough to get past the initial sharing.]

You were both so... proud.

[So many other things too, but proud covers much.]

_{[ He had touched enough people to know about the transference of memories, especially via prolonged contact or if the memory was a strong one. He hadn't been expecting it, but it wasn't a bad memory to share with someone else. He can hear the wonder in Wolfe's voice and he hums, content in being curled up with him, skin to skin. ]}

Yeah, it was a proud moment. Pike was the one who got me to go into the Academy, and he was basically a father figure to me. If there was anyone I wanted to make proud, it was him. And it was his ship I was taking over. Kind of like passing it down, in a way.

That, and I kept my promise. Captain in three years.

_{[ He says it with quite amusement, lulled by Wolfe's presence and the heat of the sun. ]}

Mmm. Fathers do that, don't they.

[Not really a question, he knows. He knows because in his minds eye he's sixteen years old with his twin siblings half his age in the other room setting the table and their mother at the fireplace hunched over a stew or something. He doesn't exactly remember what. That's not the point of the memory, and their details are shadows and wordless voices, the general sound of domestic goings on.

Adalwolfe, I need you to listen.

His view switches from the unclear details of the warm kitchen to the dim light of the room he's in. Nothing's casting light but the vaguely moon through the window, curtains drawn. Even so, the man who spoke is clear in all details. He has kind eyes, a striking misty blue that's offset by his dark hair, though his head and beard is more silver than black now. He has the same facial shape as Adalwolfe, strong jawed with a hawkish nose like their namesake. It's a joke among all of them, the "Hawke" nose.

I am paying attention. Adalwolfe's voice sounds childish, further from his voice now than his father's sounds.

Then light this candle, without lighting anything else.

But supper's almost-

Wolfe, his voice is kind, yet firm, and tired. When I'm gone, you'll need to protect this family. For all we know that could happen tomorrow.

It won't, Adalwolfe huffs the huff of a teenager who's heard the same lecture too many times.

But it could.

Silence, punctuated by laughter from the other room as Carver chases Bethany about the table and their mother scolds them ineffectually with laughter of her own.

You must protect them, like I protect all of you.

Adalwolfe lights the candle with a practiced flick of his wrist, no stray sparks. At least not this time. Malcolm Hawke nods approvingly and snuffs it out.

Good, again.

It's not a good memory, but not a bad one either. He muses on it without comment as it fades, wondering if Kirk saw it, and if he did, if he felt the sense of duty that started to grow within Adalwolfe with it.]

_{[ He could see it, though it went in and out. He didn't get everything, but he understood the emotions - the pride in little Adalwolfe, the want to do his father proud and keep his word. Maybe it was easier to get those impressions because he shared those feelings at one point, if at a much older age. He can feel how these moments shaped Adalwolfe, and for a brief flicker of a heartbeat he feels oily for having seem them, like they weren't something he was ever meant to see.

It passed, though, and he curled further into Adalwolfe. ]}

Did your dad give you an extra helping at supper as your reward for lighting the candle? Or just a pat on the head? I feel like lighting a candle deserves a second helping at supper.

[Kirk curling like that prompts Adalwolfe to hold him a little closer in turn, something in the movement conveying reassurance. He laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest.]

I got a second helping of dessert too, if I remember. And I got to be the dragon for Bethany and Carver in their pretend games after dinner. With real fire.

[Only a little. He was responsible enough to keep it mostly under control, especially in the house. No flashy magic outside or it could draw attention.]

I was slain, of course. With a ladle.

_{[ He likes being held, having physical touch. It helped to ground him, gave him a sort of spiritual and mental reassurance. He had always liked to cuddle before, but since his death it had become more important for himself.

He laughed at the other's admission of getting extra for his good work, thinking it a cute image - little Hawke getting an extra cookie for being a good little magician. ]}

Well, naturally. The dragon isn't supposed to win. Glad to see you recovered though.

I was reborn as a dragon slayer instead.

[He says it with all sense of drama, using the fist on his free arm to press against his chest as an actor performing a soliloquy.]

In the nestled hills around Kirkwall, my party and I faced a fearsome beast that I had playacted at of old and bested the monster in a brilliant show of physical and magical prowess to rival tales of the Navarran slayers. For hours we fought on in the basin below the mine aptly named the Bone Pit when finally we emerged triumphant, the final blow dealt and the beast felled to our glory.

[He devolves into a snickering laugh.]

At least, that's how my friend told it. Really it was more running around in circles and throwing ice shards at the thing until she went down. I should have brought my brother's ladle.

_{[ He laughed as he listened to the tale, trying to imagine it in his head. It was quite the sight, if mostly because he had no idea what a dragon really looked like, and just used what Earth mythology and cinematic universes had always taught. Close enough, surely. ]}

Hey, whatever works, right? Though maybe stick to your friend's version. It has that certain dramatic flair.

_{[ He made a humming sound. ]}

I'm not sure I have a story to top that one actually. Can't really top taking down a dragon no matter where you're from.

Oh, I don't know. Plenty have done it. Flying in space though, that's never been even imagined where I'm from. You have academies for it.

[He chuckles, shifting so his chin is against Kirk's temple and he can feel it just as much as hear it when the other man talks.]

Maybe not as impressive here, when we're all spacebound, but still. Captain is still a respectable rank wherever you go.

Well, just the one. Just for the Fleet. You can learn to fly in other ways, but there's no way into the Fleet except through the Academy itself.

_{[ He doesn't fight the shift, fingers drawing slow circles around his
back and hips languidly. ]}

Even here in this tiny fleet of ours?

Especially here. There's a level of... I don't know, being able to define yourself here, I feel like. Not that it couldn't be done in our own worlds and times I shouldn't wonder, but for me at least it's nice to decide what I want to be and do independently of constant politics and prejudicial siege. You're a lucky one, being a captain home and then again here? You know who you are, what you want regardless of context. It's admirable.

[Hawke's eyes drift half closed at the trace of Kirk's fingers, twitching just slightly when the small of his back is grazed. It's an unconscious thing, something he can't help when anyone passes light touches at the base of his spine. It makes him chuckle that Kirk had found that spot so easily.]

Careful Captain, or this might not end up being as languid of an evening.

It's just what I've come to know I can do, is all. For a long, long time before now, I had no idea what I wanted in my life. I was rather aimless, actually. It's only in the fast four years or so that I've come to really get a grasp on... me.

_{[ He can feel it, the way he twitches and the little shiver. He smirks, continuing to tease that spot as they nestled together. ]}

Hmm, true - but did you expect it to simply die out quietly?

[He chuckles and shivers again as Kirk's fingers send another jolt through him. He makes a noise at the back of his throat, something between a growl and a purr, and instead rolls atop Kirk to hold himself up on his arms and look the captain in the eye.]

Oh I never hope for quiet, you should know that by now.

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Captain's Log 04 - It's a Rock Party

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