Captain James T. Kirk (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
winscenario) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
riverviewlogs2018-01-21 01:55 pm
winscenario) wrote in riverviewlogs2018-01-21 01:55 pm
( open ) last night I felt real arms around me
who: Jim Kirk & YOU
what: Bones is gone and Jim is coping with it the only way he knows how: poorly.
when: Jan 25th through to early February
where: bars, parks and streets, shuttle and beyond the walls
warnings: drinking, general weird moods, Jim being depressed, possible crying. don't expect anything else but will edit if need be. JUST GIVE HIM DISTRACTIONS.
I ▹ JUST ONE MORE GLASS
II ▹ MIDNIGHT RUN
III ▹ THROW YOURSELF INTO YOUR WORK
what: Bones is gone and Jim is coping with it the only way he knows how: poorly.
when: Jan 25th through to early February
where: bars, parks and streets, shuttle and beyond the walls
warnings: drinking, general weird moods, Jim being depressed, possible crying. don't expect anything else but will edit if need be. JUST GIVE HIM DISTRACTIONS.
I ▹ JUST ONE MORE GLASS
[ It's a few days before Jim actually leaves the house properly, though he still doesn't look all that great. He's combed his hair and put on mildly presentable clothes, but he's still sporting a short beard he hasn't cared to shave, and he's not looking like his usual cheerful self either.
During the first few days, it's all still a little too fresh on his mind, and his heart. He goes out but it's not with the intent of socializing so much as sitting by the bar on his own, asking the barkeep to pour him one glass after another. He spends most of the time staring down at the liquid swirling in his glass, gaze seldom lifting from the surface, though he will if someone happens to take a seat on the stool next to his.
He'll spare a vague smile if it's a stranger, and a few words if it's a familiar face: ] What brings you around here?
During the first few days, it's all still a little too fresh on his mind, and his heart. He goes out but it's not with the intent of socializing so much as sitting by the bar on his own, asking the barkeep to pour him one glass after another. He spends most of the time staring down at the liquid swirling in his glass, gaze seldom lifting from the surface, though he will if someone happens to take a seat on the stool next to his.
He'll spare a vague smile if it's a stranger, and a few words if it's a familiar face: ] What brings you around here?
II ▹ MIDNIGHT RUN
[ It doesn't get better anytime soon. It's a process, Jim tries to tell himself, but he hates that he can't force himself to just be fine. He hates that he's nothing but a burden souring everyone's mood, and maybe that's why he thinks it would be for the best if he just avoided everyone.
On the other hand, he's lonely. He hates that. Can't stand being all alone in the empty loft when he leaves the guard. John's been putting up with him and keeping him company more often than not, but Jim knows that he can't very well hog all his time. He's got better things to do than stay with him.
So, when he can't sleep, and when he can't stand the deafening silence, he puts on running gear and goes out for a late night jog. There are always a few people around but it's generally quiet, and the parks are a good spot to just run until his legs hurt and his lungs burn. When he can't take it anymore and his head starts spinning, he lies down on the grass, staring up at the night sky. Anything to not be in his empty bed, staring up at the ceiling. ]
On the other hand, he's lonely. He hates that. Can't stand being all alone in the empty loft when he leaves the guard. John's been putting up with him and keeping him company more often than not, but Jim knows that he can't very well hog all his time. He's got better things to do than stay with him.
So, when he can't sleep, and when he can't stand the deafening silence, he puts on running gear and goes out for a late night jog. There are always a few people around but it's generally quiet, and the parks are a good spot to just run until his legs hurt and his lungs burn. When he can't take it anymore and his head starts spinning, he lies down on the grass, staring up at the night sky. Anything to not be in his empty bed, staring up at the ceiling. ]
III ▹ THROW YOURSELF INTO YOUR WORK
[ After the end of the month, the levels of self-pity start getting a little ridiculous. He finds himself equal parts sad and angry at himself that he's just letting himself go down a spiral, as much as he tries to tell himself he's coping just fine.
He needs to do something. Be useful. Resume his life in the Quarantine the best he can, cling to whatever is still steady and present and normal in his life: his work.
He shaves finally, tidies up his place, even irons clothes and buys some ready-to-eat meals to stock up his fridge, and he shows up at the Perimeter Guard after a week and some looking mostly like himself. He's not as cheerful, granted, but he doesn't avoid or ignore anyone, though it's obvious he focuses on his work more than anything else. As the days go by people might catch him yawning at odd times, rubbing at his tired eyes still sporting dark circles that are proof of his lack of sleep.
Out on the shuttle, he might even start to doze off halfway through a flight. Whoever's with him should probably take helm control and just tell him to sit back, or else Jim's grip on the shuttle might just slip, giving them the scare of their lives. ]
He needs to do something. Be useful. Resume his life in the Quarantine the best he can, cling to whatever is still steady and present and normal in his life: his work.
He shaves finally, tidies up his place, even irons clothes and buys some ready-to-eat meals to stock up his fridge, and he shows up at the Perimeter Guard after a week and some looking mostly like himself. He's not as cheerful, granted, but he doesn't avoid or ignore anyone, though it's obvious he focuses on his work more than anything else. As the days go by people might catch him yawning at odd times, rubbing at his tired eyes still sporting dark circles that are proof of his lack of sleep.
Out on the shuttle, he might even start to doze off halfway through a flight. Whoever's with him should probably take helm control and just tell him to sit back, or else Jim's grip on the shuttle might just slip, giving them the scare of their lives. ]
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[ He pats Jim on the back, leading the way up the main stairs. ]
You know, you can crash here later if you want. We have a spare bedroom.
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He follows Loki up the stairs and towards his room. His skin is feeling a little cool and sticky, now he's no longer running, and he's frankly looking forward to that shower. ]
I, ah... actually, that'd be— nice. Yeah. [ He smiles vaguely. ] I moved to a new place, but it's just... too quiet there.
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You're welcome to stop over as long as you please. Ah, I wonder if you could help me with a side-project ... I've been thinking of buying an anti-grav bike, but I know very little of them or any vehicle. [ Opening one of the dark-panelled doors, a modern bathroom with a shower is visible beyond. As well as Stephen, Sam, and Billy's minute additions, Loki has three racks of baskets under his name containing all sorts of fancy lotions and potions, razors and creams, nail varnishes here and there ... ] A conversation best saved over dinner, perhaps.
Use whatever you need in there, [ with a wave to the toiletries inside the bathroom, ] and fresh towels are in the cupboard.
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[ He still likes the one he has now better. But then he's always had a thing for vintage stuff. ]
I'll try to be quick. [ He turns to Loki with a smile, once he steps into the bathroom. ] Thank you, Loki.
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[ A wave from a hand and a green light the size of a tennis ball floats into being. He shrugs off the thanks, though they mean a lot. ]
Ask Will the Wisp for directions when you're done, he'll aim you true.
[ With that, Loki trots down the staircase. ]
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[ He closes the door once Loki leaves, turning to the light as though it can understand him. (Maybe it can, what does he know.) ] Right, then. Guess you'll keep me company huh?
[ He's relieved to peel off his sweaty clothes, and happier still to slip into the tub for a nice, warm shower. He helps himself to a few of Loki's soaps and scents, though he doesn't overdo it, even if he takes a little longer than he'd need just to get cleaned up. He's lacking in clean clothes when he's done, alas, so he dries himself off completely, then wraps a large towel around his waist, figuring he may as well ask his buddy Will to lead the way to where he might find a fresh change of clothes. ]
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It's a cosy place with a few books strewn around, the bed larger than any teen needs and draped in furs that scream Loki's handiwork. There is a wardrobe and into this the Wisp soars, landing on a magazine of men's clothes. This way, he seems to say as he shivers, trying to get Jim's attention. Take your pick! ]
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Really? [ Alright, maybe... he can manage not to be quite so skeptical. Magic, all that. Sure, why not. He stops on a page with a model wearing a black turtleneck and suit, and he taps on it. ] This'll do.
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Well, that's one neat trick you've got. [ He fixes up his hair a little, then gestures towards the door. ] Alright, then, I'm ready. Lead the way.
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Will poofs into nothing as Loki opens the door, no longer in his scalemaille but much comfier in a shirt and jeans. As ever, his smile is reflexive upon noting Jim and he takes in the sight of that suit with an approving nod. ]
Someone found a few rags to wear, then. You look very handsome!
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[ But he does look pretty sharp, and it's not often he wears these sorts of clothes. He gestures vaguely to the air, where Will was floating just a few seconds ago. ] Kinda want one of those, though, I won't even lie. Very handy.
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[ Never mind that, it's complicated and weird. ]
Also, pardon me; you are the eternal blonde knock-out.
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[ It's somewhere between weird and teasing, though he just smiles it off, raising his brows at Loki's last remark. ]
Damn right I am. Not that you look half-bad yourself. [ But now that they're done fluffing up each other's egos— ] So, dinner?
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Dinner. [ Confirming with a nod, he shuts his door and offers an arm. ] We can walk to Trixie from here, if you don't mind the dark. It isn't far. Oh, you even smell good too ...
[ SNIFFSNIFF. Delicious. ]
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I don't mind walking. [ He probably could use it. Going out for walks and jogs has helped him a lot over the past week.
He snorts, bumping his elbow against Loki's side. ] Oh, shut up. Besides, it's mostly your soaps and lotions.
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[ Nudging back! ]
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[ Granted, he does have a coconut oil lotion back at his flat, but obviously he didn't put any on after that shower. ]
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If I run, I get the sense you'll come zooming after me in your spaceship, shaking your fist in the window.
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[ Obviously he couldn't care any less whether the dinner is free or not, but he does want Loki's company. ]
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[ Waggling his brows. ]
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I'm sure plenty of you gets plenty of action, so that may be a problem.
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[ He points ahead to a hill, the lights at the top green where the TRIXIE sign glows steadily in the night. ]
There, not far now. What's your favourite meal, by the way? Not something super space-y that I can't have the chef whip up, I hope.
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