James Tiberius Kirk (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
universal_charm) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2016-09-01 11:43 pm
universal_charm) wrote in driftfleet2016-09-01 11:43 pm
Captain's Log 04 - Waking Dreams
Who: Jim Kirk & You
Broadcast: Yes
Action: Yes, on the Tourist
When: Now (that is, Friday)
[ It's a strange feeling, waking up and staring at a ceiling that he instinctively knows is on a ship. He hasn't looked at one of those in awhile, mostly because his ship was still being built. He had been able to tour some parts of her, but she was far from complete, and certainly nowhere near ready for him to move into. So why? Why was there something familiar about this ceiling? He had seen it before, he was sure, nagging at the back of his mind -
The Fleet.
It struck him like a slap, making him gasp, and he sat up sharply, looking down at himself, wrapped in his survival suit of all things. He touched the raised silver crest of Star Fleet, trying to wrap his mind around the notion he was back on the Tourist. How long had it been? Almost three years? He had just celebrated his birthday, so, yes, three years...
Looking around he located the communicator, flipping it open, remembering the motions easily enough as he keyed up the video and looked in. It's to late by the time he realizes that he has a crown settled into his somewhat fluffier hair and a bright red lipstick mark on his cheek. Who-? Well, whatever, everyone will just get to see him attempt to rub the lipstick off as he speaks, crown, for the moment, remaining where it was. ]
Uh - hello everyone. I'm not sure how much time as passed here, so I suppose I should start with introductions. My name is Captain James Tiberius Kirk, U.S.S. Enterprise, though feel free to call me Jim. I was here once before, but I suppose at some point I got sent home.
It's been three years for me. So, if possible, I wouldn't mind a roll call of who all is here - and exactly how much time has passed for you all.
Kirk, out.
[ He turns off the communicator and gets up slowly, stretching, making his way for the kitchen and wondering if that cantankerous coffee machine was still here and functioning, and if it had been tamed. He hoped so. He desperately needed coffee. Maybe something more too. Yes, definitely something more.
Irish coffee it was Or as close as he could get it. ]
Broadcast: Yes
Action: Yes, on the Tourist
When: Now (that is, Friday)
[ It's a strange feeling, waking up and staring at a ceiling that he instinctively knows is on a ship. He hasn't looked at one of those in awhile, mostly because his ship was still being built. He had been able to tour some parts of her, but she was far from complete, and certainly nowhere near ready for him to move into. So why? Why was there something familiar about this ceiling? He had seen it before, he was sure, nagging at the back of his mind -
The Fleet.
It struck him like a slap, making him gasp, and he sat up sharply, looking down at himself, wrapped in his survival suit of all things. He touched the raised silver crest of Star Fleet, trying to wrap his mind around the notion he was back on the Tourist. How long had it been? Almost three years? He had just celebrated his birthday, so, yes, three years...
Looking around he located the communicator, flipping it open, remembering the motions easily enough as he keyed up the video and looked in. It's to late by the time he realizes that he has a crown settled into his somewhat fluffier hair and a bright red lipstick mark on his cheek. Who-? Well, whatever, everyone will just get to see him attempt to rub the lipstick off as he speaks, crown, for the moment, remaining where it was. ]
Uh - hello everyone. I'm not sure how much time as passed here, so I suppose I should start with introductions. My name is Captain James Tiberius Kirk, U.S.S. Enterprise, though feel free to call me Jim. I was here once before, but I suppose at some point I got sent home.
It's been three years for me. So, if possible, I wouldn't mind a roll call of who all is here - and exactly how much time has passed for you all.
Kirk, out.
[ He turns off the communicator and gets up slowly, stretching, making his way for the kitchen and wondering if that cantankerous coffee machine was still here and functioning, and if it had been tamed. He hoped so. He desperately needed coffee. Maybe something more too. Yes, definitely something more.
Irish coffee it was Or as close as he could get it. ]
no subject
[But, watching the small movements Kirk had made when they'd first heard the music, Anders thought he understood. It was about keeping the rhythm, something he had been good at, once. Probably still.]
Alright, then, but if I make an ass of myself, I'm blaming you.
[Despite his words, a grin spread across his face as he took Kirk's hand.]
no subject
Trust me, I won't let you. It's actually pretty hard, so I think you'll do just fine.
[ He went out to the dance floor and took up a spot, swaying his body to the music. He was no professional dancer by any means, but he could keep the rhythm and a beat. He looked to Anders and motioned for him to follow his lead. ]
Don't think, just move!
no subject
Don't think, just move. Right.
He mimicked Jim's movements to start until he found the beat of the music himself and his movements started to come easier, more naturally. Maybe he understood what Kirk was talking about after all.
A smile grew over his face and into his eyes as he looked back to his friend.]
I see what you mean. There's certainly a lot fewer rules for this type of dancing.
no subject
There aren't any rules except don't hit someone and don't step on someone's toes! It's just about having a good time, that's all. Things are a lot looser in the future, as you can tell.
no subject
[He was already getting used to this. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt the stirrings of fun in his chest.]
Is this the way you dance with a partner? Just generally in their same space?
[This sort of dancing, it was almost easier to hold a conversation even with the volume and how they weren't intimately in each other's space. He liked it.]