Growing Shadows (open thread, tagging ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
boldygoing for sure)
Oct. 6th, 2018 01:37 pmsmartass_captainGeorge 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.
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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Date: 2018-10-07 08:00 pm (UTC)The newness of the chess set doesn't escape his notice, but he doesn't remark on it, either. Part of Operation Don't Ask is not poking at the obvious aftermath, too. "Coffee table's fine with me." He's still looking around a bit as he finds a comfortable spot to sit, though, taking note of the few personal touches sitting out in the open. It's damn near as sparsely decorated as his apartment back in San Francisco was, after he'd first moved in.
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Date: 2018-10-07 08:22 pm (UTC)Jim brings everything over to the coffee table and moves aside the stack of data pads and actual paper notebooks Felix has been using for his studies while he tries to learn up on the basics of Jim's world, culture, and Starfleet. "Coffee's ready, hold up."
Just give him a second to set up the board before he goes to fetch drinks and drag a chair over to the other side of the coffee table with Jim sitting on the couch like he is.
"How's the ship?"
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Date: 2018-10-07 10:04 pm (UTC)He watches the other captain puttering around, trying to get a feel for his mood without making it too obvious he's doing it, a subtlety that's probably completely wasted, to be honest. But if talking shop helps take the edge off, then he's more than content to do so. "She's still running like a dream. We just wrapped up the survey on the Talgus system; Astronomy should have enough data to keep everyone busy for a month, never mind the probes we left to keep an eye on those solar flares."
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Date: 2018-10-07 10:59 pm (UTC)When Jim finally sits down he's sure to slide a mug over to his companion without prompting before he burns his mouth with his own coffee and pulls the mug away with a swear before he sets it down.
"It's hot." No shit, Kirk, you just grabbed the finished pot. "That's good. Steady work keeps folks happy and..." He turns the board so that white is facing the younger companion, then frowns. Is that right? He doesn't remember whose turn it was.
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Date: 2018-10-07 11:37 pm (UTC)What the hell is going on?
He's aware that he's probably staring, holding his mug up to his lips without drinking it, an endless litany of possibilities nagging at him and none of them seeming to fit. It's on the tip of his tongue to just break the rules and ask, but instead he says, "I think it's your turn to be white." Even if it isn't, the other guy looks like he needs the advantage more, right now.
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Date: 2018-10-08 05:41 pm (UTC)The board is spun round so that white is facing the older captain. He wastes no time in making his opening move either. Whether it's a plan he's had in mind or just impatience is anyone's guess at this juncture. Though he does so nearly pick up his coffee to sip at it again, only stopping when the younger captain quietly reminds him that it's still very hot. Jim looks down at the mug and sets it down with a nod. He knows. He knew that.
Jim won't stop fidgeting.
The game between them is erratic and frustrating to follow. Every time the younger captain seems like he's catching his jittery older counterpart there seems to be a change in direction and strategy. As if Jim's focus is coming in fits and bursts and desperate not to lose despite so clearly having something he wants to say. Tiber bats at the little strips of napkin Jim has been ripping squares off of while they play and rolling it between his fingers just to have something for his hands to do. In all honesty he's rubbed the back of his hands raw and red already so this is likely to stop him from doing that even more.
The whole time the older captain says very little. His small talk has consisted of answering remarks his companion makes, though sometimes it take multiple times repeating before he seems to hear it.
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Date: 2018-10-08 06:32 pm (UTC)It’s near impossible to set up any kind of winning strategy against this kind of random pattern, but neither is the other captain pressing the advantage like he should. Minutes tick away as the pieces on the board dwindle, reducing chances of a clear victory even further until it becomes obvious neither of them is coming out on top.
Jim’s coffee is damn near forgotten, slowly cooling on the table at his elbow, barely touched. He picks it up again and grimaces a little when he takes a sip, though it has little to do with the lukewarm bitterness of it.
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Date: 2018-10-08 06:45 pm (UTC)The older captain's hair has become a wreck the longer this goes on with how often he's drug his hands through it either absently or actively while he was trying to think. He's reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose now in a small attempt to alleviate the headache blossoming a pressure throughout his entire skull. This isn't working. It's not helping.
If anything, it's only trapped him into sitting here and thinking about it without the luxury of being able or made to speak.
"God fucking dammit. Why can't this shit ever just be easy?"
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Date: 2018-10-08 07:15 pm (UTC)Jim sets down his mug again, the ceramic solidly thunking against the table like a gavel. “What the hell happened?” Sure, it’s not his turn, but if they have to go through another round, his companion might just work himself into an aneurysm or something.
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Date: 2018-10-08 07:39 pm (UTC)It's out of his mouth before the younger companion's nearly finished asking and even Jim is startled at how paper thin his patience was becoming during their match. His blue eyes are troubled. Suspicious when they raise form the board and meet his younger counterpart. "I called you here to warn you but it's...it's so messed up and--"
Embarrassing. Here Jim thought he didn't have shame in him but looks like he was wrong as usual.
"I met a guy who is literally all of our hangups. My hangups, at least. In one body."
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Date: 2018-10-08 08:46 pm (UTC)Please don’t let this be another tailor-made nightmare in the making. It shouldn’t be, but... There’s a small tremor in his hands, and he clasps them together to hide it. “Who?”
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Date: 2018-10-08 08:57 pm (UTC)Jim struggles for a moment to describe Thor in appearance because nothing that he can say won't sound every kind of creepy because of the Worst part of it. He shakes his head several times.
"He's the literal definition of Perfect Masculine Idealism." Okay, other Jim might be allowed to start getting mad or at least ready to tease his older counterpart's fragile ego and vanity mercilessly but Jim's not done.
"He's got George's face though."
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Date: 2018-10-08 09:33 pm (UTC)For one incredibly stupid moment, he wants to ask, “George who?” But his stomach’s already dropped right down into his boots as he realizes there’s only one George that would freak out his counterpart this badly.
“...you’re fucking kidding.” Of course he isn’t. This isn’t the sort of thing they joke about, not now, not ever.
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Date: 2018-10-08 09:44 pm (UTC)The headache's back in full force and Jim's trying to stem it as best he can. It's been eating at him for days now. It's bad enough that the guy is the walking embodiment of all Jim's most vain hangups but to look exactly like their father? And to be some kind of fucking god?
"He seems decent? Personality wise? He's got no idea who I am. So I don't...it feels like some Nexus thing designed to screw with us. Or maybe just me I don't even know or care at this point. But I needed to warn you before you ran into him."
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Date: 2018-10-08 11:47 pm (UTC)"God fucking dammit."
Jim can't decide if that's better or worse than if their actual father showed up in the Nexus someday. With all the time travel bullshit and alternate universes crossing paths there, the odds are far higher than he'd like, even if it never once occurred to him that it was an option at all, until just now.
...how buff is this Thor guy, anyway? Never mind, he does not want to know. Might not have the final say in that, but whatever.
Jim leans forward and scrubs his hands over his face, trying to soak all this in. "Ugh, thanks. I just... don't know what the hell." To think, to say, take your pick. But better forewarned than stumbling into it blindly, unlike his unlucky double.
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Date: 2018-10-09 12:32 am (UTC)Jim couldn't take that. He's also had to come to the unfortunate realization that their father could one day stumble into this place from one of infinite times. This god, wherever he comes from, isn't somehow a deified George Kirk and Jim will have to take what little solace he can in that. His father's shadow stretches far enough without adding 'god' to that list.
"I didn't realize it right away. He's missing an eye so he's got this patch thing. I'm guessing gods don't have proper medical staff for that kind of shit. But I swear the second he turned his head I thought I had finally lost my fucking mind."
Jim has seen some shit in his life. He'd be a bit embarrassed if this was the thing that broke him.It's just so weird.
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Date: 2018-10-09 01:54 am (UTC)"...you're sure we shouldn't be drinking something stronger for this?" It's times like these that Jim really regrets some of his life decisions, and not being able to get drunk is at the top of the list. But for his companion's sake, maybe coffee isn't quite going to get the job done.
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Date: 2018-10-09 03:31 am (UTC)The last thing Jim wants is to start fixating on how ripped the god was, how he'll never look that good no matter how strict of a diet regimen he keeps (abs are just not happening when you spend that much time sitting around, Jim) or any of that. Because he could have that conversation. Probably would with very little shame with his counterpart.
If not for the fact that said god has their father's face.
Because that makes this creepy in a way Jim is not okay with on any level and he would really rather not be drunk and making things weirder than they already have to be. Not to mention alcohol is empty calories. And suddenly that matters even though it's stupid and it shouldn't.
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Date: 2018-10-09 02:25 pm (UTC)In any case, it's pretty damn obvious they aren't going to even want to try to get through another round of chess, so he reaches out and slides the board to the side of the table. Well, and also because he's not sure he can sit still right now and he has to do something with his hands that isn't going to end with this mug being broken.
"...so when you say Norse god, you mean... like for real?" That's certainly not the weirdest part but shit, he's getting a little desperate to break out of this endless loop of thought that keeps screaming George Kirk in his head.
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Date: 2018-10-10 12:59 am (UTC)"That's what he said."
He sets the PINpoint down so it's screen is face up and turns it round for the younger JIm to see.
"At least you got a warning."
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Date: 2018-10-10 02:04 am (UTC)...he's still not prepared.
It's like someone carved a bodybuilder out of solid muscle. A bodybuilder with George Kirk's face, and somehow even the eyepatch and choppy haircut that'd look awful on anyone else just work for him. Jim shifts uncomfortably, and yeah, it's so much worse seeing the guy outside his own imagination. There's a tightness in his stomach that he can't put a name to, and god, he still doesn't know what to think but it's all bad.
"...holy shit."
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Date: 2018-10-21 01:53 pm (UTC)Plus, you know, he got to kind of startle a god so this is probably not something that just happens every day. Of course when it does it would happen to Jim. That's just how the odds go.
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Date: 2018-10-21 03:52 pm (UTC)"So he's just passively screwing with us. Great."
Well, it could be worse, though knowing that doesn't exactly make him feel better about all this.
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Date: 2018-10-21 05:04 pm (UTC)"Something like that. Fucking wish it was something as mundane as 'dude makes me want to hit the gym until I accept the fact I'll never look like that', at least that kind of shit we could laugh about." Grumble, grumble.
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Date: 2018-10-21 08:03 pm (UTC)At least forewarned is forearmed, and maybe if - or, more probably, when - he bumps into this Thor guy it won't be as deep of a shock. Maybe. The only way to do know is to do it, and Jim's not exactly eager to test his theory, now or ever.
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