moves like jagger [open]

[jirk]

Characters: Jim Kirk and open!
Date: May 4th, watch as I refuse to crack jokes about rival sci-fi franchises.
Location: A couple different scenarios, thread starters for each. If you'd like to set up another scenario, PM me and we can hash out something else!
Situation: Jim's acquainting himself with the concept of being, you know, on a giant turtle.
Warnings/Rating: Shouldn't go past PG-13.
Notes: Starting in prose, feel free to hop in with prose or actionspam.

Comments

➸ exploration

[jirk]

Waking up in unfamiliar places wasn't in any way unusual for Jim. It probably should have been, but at this point? He'd grown long used to the idea that sometimes, people just wanted to kidnap him, maroon him on alien planets, et cetera. You know. The usual.

Spock would probably have something to say about all this, but then, Mister Spock wasn't here. Or anywhere within communicator range. The same could be said for the rest of his crew, the ship, and anything else he might have otherwise been interested in hailing. So it happened that he crammed himself into the nearest alley after his ride from the palace (they should really do something about those roads) and set his tricorder to send out a weak SOS. If he was any kind of tech genius (he wasn't) he could probably jury-rig the power source from his phaser to boost the signal, but in lieu of Scotty or Chekov, he was stuck simply making the best of a bad situation.

Not that it was so bad, really. The food (he sweet-talked a pretty kedan out of a spare shiskabob as she was closing up shop for the day) was decent, edible. The turtle itself was phenomenal. There was no record of any life sign like this anywhere in the Federation handbook. Exploration, wasn't that one of the Fleet's oldest tenets? Even being (kidnapped) (stranded) out of his depths didn't remove that obligation. He spent a considerable amount of time talking to the locals, learning what he could. There was plenty of 'I come in peace/take me to your leader' rhetoric. He couldn't quite bring himself to give the standard Federation spiel.

He updated his logbook with a sardonic sort of resignation. Rules and regulations were made to be broken, sure, but this wasn't the time or the place for rebellion. He was in hostile territory – or semi-hostile, anyways, and he wasn't going to take any chances. The kedan didn't have the technology to be a universal threat, but after that whole mess with the Gorn he wasn't really interested in taking chances.

Still. There were a plethora of science officers who would probably skin him alive if he didn't take adequate readings and research of the local flora, fauna and atmospheric— you know, pressures and things while he was here, so he could be seen from the morning until well after noon taking tricorder readings and otherwise investigating nearly everything he could get his hands on. He was wearing his Starfleet uniform, the customary gold and black, and he'd be more than happy to strike up a conversation with any stranger who ventured too close.

Re: ➸ exploration

[gathersnomoss]

[Zelgadis is taking his own measurements. That is, he'd talked to Norrington about the possibility of boats, which meant knowing where the turtle was relative to... well, anything. Since they were out of sight of shore, the best Zel could manage was getting latitude and longitude and seeing if there was a magnetic north or south to get a compass reading from]

[So cue a blue stone-skinned man with a sextant and a clock that might contain actual clockwork looking for a high spot in the Metal Sector to get a sighting on the sun, crowding out Kirk's current observation spot]

[jirk]

[Kirk raises an eyebrow at the guy. Alien? Probably an alien. Nothing Kirk's ever seen, but he's probably missed out on a few here and there. And blue dude is pretty much right in his way.

Oblivious? Rude? Both? Kirk has no idea. He clears his throat, stows the tricorder.]

Hey buddy, you mind?

I call dusk!

[anything_it_takes]

[There's still quite a bit of light in the sky, by Leo standards. But he's acutely conscious that things are different here, like Raph said, and well... he just wants to see this place a bit, okay? Besides, it's true that no one ever looks up, and Leo compensates heavily by moving swiftly and sticking to cover. He'll grab the tail-end of daylight, a trade-off for minimal risk.

The young ninja is traveling from the city outskirts to the heavier vegetated sections, leaving familiar rooftops for the still-unfamiliar pathways of tree branches when something catches his eye. A gold and black uniform, arranged in shapes he would know in his sleep - or rather, in his galaxy-studded dreams.

Leo stares, mouth gaping. He'd thought his mental analogies comparing Tu Shanshu to a plot of Space Heroes were just because he was a Spacenik. But there's a human down there, in a gold-and-black one-piece uniform, scanning the vegetation with a... with a... is that a...?!

Well no it's not quite right, and the uniform IS different, but STILL. Leo gets as close as he can, careful of leaves that rustle and branches that creak. And his approach is soundless, but the fact is Leo's not used to trees just yet. Fixated on the human he's stalking, jaw still open in disbelief, he reaches out for a branch in his peripheral vision, leans his weight without thinking and -

S N A P ]

Woah!!

[Leo falls with a yelp of surprise followed by a remarkably heavy thud, thanks to the natural weight of his carapace and his state of complete unpreparedness for the fall. He's a few feet away from the human and still hidden from sight by ground vegetation, but there's no way anyone with a sense of hearing could have missed that.

Maybe if he scrambles he can still get away without being seen. But his head will have to stop spinning first, and it'd also be nice to get a full breath of air before he hops back up there. Actually, if Leo wasn't a turtle or if he didn't have the correct fall training, he'd probably need medical attention right about now.

It's good to be a turtle... if not always dignified.]

[jirk]

[The noise doesn't exactly startle him. He's been a ship's captain for over a year. 'Unexpected complications' is probably one of the warnings in the Federation handbook. Not that he's ever read the Federation handbook. Jim likes to play fast and loose with the rules at the best of times.

So no. Not startled. A little wary, though. He stows the tricorder in its hip holster but isn't quite moved to draw his phaser yet. That 'whoa' sounded pretty human to him. Okay, maybe 'human' was a bad descriptor. Hostile, then. It didn't sound hostile.

He angled himself in the direction of the noise (could be a sound decoy, so he kept all his senses on high alert) and then,]

Identify yourself. This is Captain Kirk of the USS Enterprise. I'm here peaceably on behalf of the Federation.

[He's speaking to a clump of grass. This could end... foolishly. Maybe it was just a bird?]

[refusing]

[Rose is one of the ones that ventures in too close, mostly due to curiosity than anything else. She too is out trying to figure out her new surroundings, trying to gather as much data as possible. She spots him from far away at first, sometime in the morning, and keeps her eye on him here and there as they happen to cross paths into the early afternoon.

Dying for some company and to see what exactly he's up to, Rose approaches him and just slides right on over to stand in his path.

She smiles, and really can't help but laugh because she knows the Doctor would think she's incredibly simple for doing this.]

So, you figure it all out yet?

[No, she's not a crazy stalker, she promises. It's not her fault her path has just stumbled across his enough that she thinks it's within her boundaries to approach him and talk.]

[jirk]

[So she's a ways away from him, but Jim? Jim's got a radar for pretty women that could work in an electric storm while under fire from Klingon Warbirds. He surreptitiously scans her from a distance - human, so there's that. Not that Jim cares, exactly, but sometimes it's good to know whether or not someone else's bodily fluids will kill you.

(Then again, he always has liked to live dangerously)

Still. He's in work mode, so with one last look of resigned regret, he turns back to his duties. He can play later. If there even is a later.

So it's a pleasant surprise when she crosses his path again, and Jim can't help but grin rakishly at her.]

This? Oh, totally. Solved it hours ago. Now I'm just seeing the sights. Do you know the fire fountains don't actually burn?

[He holds out a hand - if she takes it, his handshake is firm and enthusiastic.]

Name's Jim. Jim Kirk. But just between you and me, you can call me any time.

metal sector | market

[iron_ego]

Two juulan.

[An excellent offer for the salvage that the kedan is offering, but he hears a 'twenty juulan' in return that has one eyebrow arch high above the frames of his impressive sunglasses.]

Three. My final offer. It's -- [A cough, a beat.] Used. I see fingerprints. Dirt. A scratch on the screen. That makes it second hand. Practically useless to anyone outside of yours truly. You won't get a better offer.

[Oh, but he tries with 'eleven' as the counteroffer and Tony's ready to offer five for the piece -- a salvaged bit of gadgetry from one of the Foreigners. On old MP3 player, perhaps. Useless without a charge. He'd never consider such a high price back in the States, but supply here is low and demand. Well, he's always been demanding, so he might have to put his wallet where his wants were.

Except then he spies Kirk.

No, scratch that. He spies the tricorder that happens to be escorted about by Kirk and his interest in the used tech dissipates like sobriety under alcohol. Tony moves towards him. Snaps his fingers and points to the tricorder. It's different. It's high tech. And it's obviously a Foreigner's, because the kedan never manage to look that good when emulating the human form. Oh, and he wants it. He wants it, oh... yesterday?]

You. I'll give you twenty juulan for that doodad.

[jirk]

[Kirk raises an eyebrow in the closest approximation to 'Spock' he can even manage while stone cold sober.]

This? It's not for sale, pal.

[He's pretty sure the Federation would kill him for losing it, anyway.]

Thanks, though.

[He reaches out to pat Tony on the arm and move past him.]

[notdreaming]

Kara had never seen the specific tools that Kirk was using, but she could tell what they were for, more or less. In any case, she didn't particularly care what exactly they did. The fact that he was using them was exciting enough.

"Excuse me," she called out to the stranger from a polite distance, "what sort of readings are you taking?" And was there any chance she could get his help in setting up a lab? She could ask later.

[jirk]

Cute, but also way too young for him. Jim scraped his index finger against his brow bone and offered her a bright smile. Sure, she was just a kid, but Jim liked kids well enough.

"Oh, you know. All sorts. It's a tricorder, it does that. Mostly it just records data, takes samples of organic and inorganic material. It's supposed to break everything down into ones and zeroes and transfer it back to the central information hub of my," he waved a hand in a vague approximation of 'upward' "ship."

[onefouroneseven]

[ It's her off day, and Soranik has been spending it doing things that were-- decidedly not what people did on their day off, which was more work. At least until her ring chimes in. ]

SOS detected. Signal faint, exact location to be determined.

[ Which is how she finds herself in Wood, floating a few feet above the ground, watching Kirk work. He certainly didn't look like he was in need of aid, but the ring had pinpointed the signal better once she'd taken to the air. There was one way to find out for certain, however, and Soranik clears her throat before speaking. ]

You sent out an SOS?

[jirk]

Holy--

[There are not a whole lot of people that can snea-- okay, scratch that, he can think of at least three people off the top of his head that can sneak up on him, but those three aren't here, they don't float, and they definitely aren't red. Or that hot.

So he may have jumped a little and/or fumbled at his tricorder at her question, but this? This can totally still be saved.]

You come all the way down from heaven to ask me that? I'm a little touched.

[Kirk is an old hat at the whole playful flirtations thing, but he only ever uses that wellspring of experience for good. He swears.]

Re: ➸ exploration

[candystriped]

Stocking was sitting at one of the cafe consoles in the Fire Sector, a huge plate of sweets next to her and typing away furiously at the keyboard. Magic turtle or not, she was not stopping her food blogging.

But when she caught sight of someone wandering around with some sort of scanner in uniform, she couldn't help but comment.

"So... you lost a bet and had to wear the jumpsuit?"

[jirk]

Kirk could roll with the punches with the actual best of them, so the statement? Didn't so much as make him blink. He leaned on the counter of the shop, waiting for the kedan behind the counter to take his order as he gave her a bit of a grin.

"It's a Starfleet uniform, actually. And it's a two-piece." He said that last bit just playfully enough to be flirtatious. Hey, she looked legal.

I had to with the icon

[hugmagnet]

[Carol's only been here a few days so she isn't all that familiar with the place herself. She's been wandering around, getting acquainted with the layout of the turtle and the people. She hasn't learned much and being on a giant turtle to still immensely weird to her but what can she do? She spots Jim one day as she's wandering around. He looks like he just stepped right out of a sci fi show so naturally he catches her attention and she decides to approach, arms folded over her chest in complete neutrality. He's either a massive nerd or this is going to be the best meeting ever. Either one is okay with her, really. She's wearing civvies so she looks like a completely normal human woman]

Are the plants around here really that interesting? Nice uniform, by the way.

because we can only have science-based CR idk? and idk why this is tl;dr either??

[angermanaging]

Bruce is taking his own readings, somewhat compulsively, to be honest. He considers his study on the variations in gravitational pull across different areas of the turtle complete-- he's checked, re-checked, and re-checked again, like any good scientist-- and has come to his conclusions there. He even has a plan on how to distribute his results with a minimum of public interaction from him. It's a good plan. The topic is more or less closed for now, barring the possibility of more invasive samples from Tu Vishan, which is off the table currently.

Yet he's still out taking samples. It's sort of soothing in its regularity and lack of required social interaction at this point. Bruce does have an actual motive, and takes meticulous, live specimens of plants as he seems them, as well as water in small marked tubes. He might not know much about botany or gardening or hydroponics at all, he might not be able to read any of the literature around here, but that's never stopped him from learning the old fashioned way, by direct observation. Arguably it's even more effective here, in a foreign world with foreign organisms.

So he's going around in his unassuming kedan clothes, blandly colored, a beat up and extremely American backpack along with him. He'd seen no reason to spend money on something new, though he does have money now. Instead Bruce makes do, carefully kneeling and teasing out a twining tendril of a plant he hasn't seen before from among the choked grass. It might be due to environmental factors he can't notice with the naked eye, but it seems to be thriving slightly better than its surroundings.

He looks up when Jim approaches with his tricorder automatically, hyperaware of people in his space as always but visibly calm. It's clear he's not just a random local with an interest in fauna, because there's a set of previously taken samples with marked labels on the glass, and he offers a nod.

The tricorder itself gets a second, more interested look, but he doesn't pry just yet. In fact the only thing he says is, "Hey."

➸ bar-hopping

[jirk]

The day had dwindled into nothing, and he'd come no closer to figuring out anything about this place (besides the obvious) or why he was here (apparently they needed 'heroes'. Well that was flattering and all, but kind of vague) or... anything, really. Oh, he had a great barometric reading on his tricorder, and he'd identified all the local branches of dialect as being something never encountered before (his kingdom (but not his ship, thanks) for Uhura's presence) in Federation history, but beyond that? Nada. Zilch. Zip.

So he'd found his way into one of the bars that was still serving some form of alcohol. He'd gotten the Emperor's little care package all right, and he'd slapped down most (all) of the coinage down on the countertop.

"Hey, what's a guy gotta do to get a drink around here?"

He was out of his captain's uniform by this point. No sense disgracing the uniform if it turned out his constitution couldn't handle the booze. He'd kept the pants, but his shirt was simple and black. Still, he wore his phaser in plain sight and had his tricorder on his hip.

In the meantime, ladies beware. He had plans to hit on anything that moved, breathed, or otherwise caught his attention.

[imaginate]

[Four months. He’s not sure how he knows, but it’s probably been that long. Or longer. The calm of the turtle is gone and while Kyle didn’t find that annoying or intrusive, he is decidedly more morose. Sinestro is free. The man who tore apart the universe, who broke him, is free. He can’t deny he’s angry, and it’s building, but it has nowhere to go, here.

So he spends the day outside the city, smashing as many rocks as he could, so by the time he shows up at this bar in the Fire Sector he’s sweaty, thirsty, and still pissed off, but less so. The alcohol is somewhat comforting, and maybe he’s here because he wants a fight on his hands. There’s no thrill in it like there is for Hal and Guy, but Kyle knows when he needs to vent steam and well, a bar is the best place to do it.

(He can’t believe he misses the mess hall fights, sometimes. Of all things.)

Two hours later he’s hunched over the counter and the ring is coldly informing him that his blood alcohol level is far above regulation and if he does not stop right now it will be forcibly purged from his system. And that it will be extremely unpleasant for him.

He’s certainly not on the lookout for new faces, but he studies Jim with a critical eye. And maybe a little something that says what the hell do you want?]

Ask nicely.

Re: ➸ bar-hopping

[fearlessherosheart]

Tazendra is drinking (though not nearly enough for her tastes). And trying to start some sort of dice game going with the kedan, but currently isn't having all that much luck.

Which means there's a very loud, tall woman in the corner of your bar, Jim.

[OOC: Tazendra probably won't take flirting well, considering she looks down on what would be normal humans. I, on the other hand, don't particularly care what she thinks.]

[cmdreffingshepard]

Shepard liked the bars in Keeliai better than the ones on the Citadel, or Omega. Less crappy pounding club music, more dark corners for quiet conversations.

Or just spots to sit and have a drink alone, thinking about your life and your role in the universe and watching people come and go.

The newcomer was young, good looking, with the cocky assurance of, well. A young, cocky soldier who thinks he's invincible. Shepard knew his type, though she hadn't seen this guy around before, and she came to this bar at least once a week lately.

"You're lucky the rationing isn't as bad right now as it was a couple weeks ago," she said lightly as he slapped down money on the bar. Gun on his hip, she noted. Well, she had her own gun, too. Not an unusual sight.

post bar-hopping | per our discussion

[brbparadise]

[The night is young -- to a vampire of one-hundred-and-eighteen years, anything limited to a twelve hour max is "young" and Mavis is sitting on a roof, watching Foreigners and kedan filter out of the bars with a detached interest. They go in walking straight and stumble out hours later, making a bee-line in the way that a bee actually zips in and about with little discernible purpose at the human scale.

Alcohol is no strange concept to her, as Quasimodo will often flambé beetles in a light sherry for her father, but this is the first time she's watched people marinating themselves in it. Weird. It's almost like they expect her to eat them, but she's so not that kind of vampire.

Mavis sniffs the air -- it's a haughty gesture, but one which quickly repeats itself as she catches wind of something delicious nearby. She's on her feet in an instant, following the aromatic smell of blood as it wafts towards her.

A blood bar maybe? Somewhere for monsters to go where they won't be looked at weird for having a Bloody Mary? The idea triggers a small squeal and she takes to bat form, swooping up in the air, turning over once, then diving down into the alleyway it comes from. Her eyes are peeled for a door or a sign to prove her hope, but all she sees is--]

Oh.

[Her wings beat quickly to draw her to a stop and she lands on the ground in full human -- well, vampire -- form. The inkling of a pout lines her lips as she looks him over. Whoever he is, he smells delicious. There's blood on his lip and a trail from his swollen nose, plus some drops on his shirt that may not be his by the scent of things, but--]

Ew. [Seriously. It's like smelling something delicious and then finding out it's the McDonald's around the corner.] It's you.

[Disappointment? Maybe. Then it registers that he's been beaten up or something and a Good Samaripire ought to give him a hand.] Holy rabies, are you okay? [Genuine concern this time, promise!]

[jirk]

[It's been a pretty good day.

Okay, so technically his 'day' included the Gorn and that whole mess with the Helios device, and then waking up on a giant turtle in the middle of nowhere, with no starscape that's ever been recorded in a Federation database. And then getting into a barfight. And now walking home after said barfight.

But it's still been a good day. Jim feels loose all over like he does after a good work-out, he's in a great mood (saved the universe again, no big deal) and he hasn't been, you know, shot at in the last sixteen hours so that's definitely a plus.

So when he cuts through an alleyway on his way to his suite (might as well crash somewhere) just in time to see a bat turn into a girl in front of him he actually stops in his tracks to stare.

You know? He's seen a lot. He maintains you haven't lived until you've been to Arcturus 9. But bats turning into girls is new, even for him. He holds up a finger. Opens his mouth. Closes his mouth. Opens it again.]

Am I o--?

[He starts to echo her question, and then shakes his head. Okay, he knows he didn't drink that much. All the alcohol here is watered down, and he definitely doesn't feel drugged. When you spend as much time around Bones as he had, you learn to recognize the sensations thereof.]

How did you do that?

...also post-bar hopping, the next morning

[trifurcate]

[Bryn's out running errands, all three of her. With one copy off to Grantaire's to deliver a small bottle of alcohol, another to pick up an outfit she was having made in the Earth sector, and a third in her home Fire sector, she was covering three times as much ground. Hopefully saving time this way would give her more opportunities to relax in the afternoon in her suite.

Still, in no hurry to complete her tasks, she wandered down the streets, seemingly at ease. She was dressed as many of the kedan in a fitted top and looser pants, but for the belt that held her sword and gun, and the boots she'd brought with her from home.]

[jirk]

[Jim needs a hangover remedy like he needs way back to his ship. He's been drunk before. Like. A lot. But the local alcohol has a kick he absolutely was not anticipating, and as a result? Everything hurts.

The sun hurts. His skin hurts. His hair hurts, which is both weird and mildly disturbing.

So he's out on the town, in a pair of shades (he could only find the one) wandering aimlessly in search of a little hair of the dog.

Instead? Instead, he rounds a corner and bumps right into a supernova. In several senses of the word. First of all? The simple act of running into someone sets his teeth on edge and his head to pounding. Secondly? She's pleasantly attractive (aka: hot) and that confuses all the neurons firing in his brain. He twitches a smile at her, one palm pressed against the side of his head in a vain attempt to make the pounding stop.]

Small world.