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bakerstreet2025-05-26 11:15 am
sneaks) wrote in bakerstreet2025-05-26 11:15 am
[The stray.
We can do some pre-canon->AU shit for crosscanon, where you realize this delinquent with the 'fight everything' attitude is actually a neglected teenager; we can do stuff with canonmates bringing Sakura home because something's wrong with his place or he shouldn't be alone for some other reason. #3, 5, 11, 15, 18 are particular favorites.]
We can do some pre-canon->AU shit for crosscanon, where you realize this delinquent with the 'fight everything' attitude is actually a neglected teenager; we can do stuff with canonmates bringing Sakura home because something's wrong with his place or he shouldn't be alone for some other reason. #3, 5, 11, 15, 18 are particular favorites.]
[Can go either way, since he's very much a stray, but also quick to take in someone in need, especially if he already has a connection with them somehow.]
[OOC: Open to everything really, both canon and cross-canon. He’s used to working alone.]
[AU version of Viktor when he's around 16 or so on the streets.]
Edited 2025-05-26 18:33 (UTC)
Jack had been watching the young man on the streets for a few nights, following him because he worried. He had no reason to worry about a stranger but that didn't stop him. He looked so young, too young. Jack wondered what had happened to send such a young man to the streets. He'd seen enough people on the streets to know the way he looked at the resturants. The young man was starving.
"Do you want to go in and have dinner?" Jack asked as he walked up beside the younger man stading across the street from the resturant.
"Do you want to go in and have dinner?" Jack asked as he walked up beside the younger man stading across the street from the resturant.
Viktor knew he wasn't alone and could tell someone was approaching him so he made sure his flick knife was at hand's reach just in case. He'd been on and off the streets for a few months now, ever since he'd been kicked out of school last year. It happened close to his fifteenth birthday and he just shrugged because school was shit. The teachers hated him and he'd been kicked out for setting fire to a classroom.
"What the fuck do you want?"
The boy was on guard, surly and hadn't had a bath for a few days. A "bath" being a make shift metal tub set by the fire back at the camp with his gang mates. It was fucking freezing being November and in the UK that made it close to winter.
"What the fuck do you want?"
The boy was on guard, surly and hadn't had a bath for a few days. A "bath" being a make shift metal tub set by the fire back at the camp with his gang mates. It was fucking freezing being November and in the UK that made it close to winter.
Jack rolled his eyes at the response. He was used to unruly street kids.
"Put the knife away." Jack had heard the sound of the kid reaching in his jacket pocket. "You're the one that wants something." Jack motioned at the resturant across the street while glancing down at the slightly shorter younger man. He wasn't worried about this kid and his knife.
"Put the knife away." Jack had heard the sound of the kid reaching in his jacket pocket. "You're the one that wants something." Jack motioned at the resturant across the street while glancing down at the slightly shorter younger man. He wasn't worried about this kid and his knife.
"Why? Who are you? My fucking dad?"
Viktor grumbled as he closed his jacket, pocketing his flick knife because this guy didn't seem to want to rob or attack him. The punk was still on his guard though because he had built up a defensive wall to anyone he didn't know. His gang was his family now and they had to fight to keep their home on the streets.
"Oh yeah and what do you think it is I want?"
The boy turned to glance at the restaurant, knowing it was well out of his reach. He was a street punk kid with no money and there was no way in hell they'd let him in.
Viktor grumbled as he closed his jacket, pocketing his flick knife because this guy didn't seem to want to rob or attack him. The punk was still on his guard though because he had built up a defensive wall to anyone he didn't know. His gang was his family now and they had to fight to keep their home on the streets.
"Oh yeah and what do you think it is I want?"
The boy turned to glance at the restaurant, knowing it was well out of his reach. He was a street punk kid with no money and there was no way in hell they'd let him in.
Jack glanced at the kid. "If you pull it my guard will break your arm before you get to use it and I'd rather you didn't get hurt."
Jack had no idea where said person was but he was there, always was there when he was out walking the street. Jack was gentle but that wasn't true of everyone on the street.
"The same thing I was heading for..." Jack smiled. "... food."
Jack had no idea where said person was but he was there, always was there when he was out walking the street. Jack was gentle but that wasn't true of everyone on the street.
"The same thing I was heading for..." Jack smiled. "... food."
"I'm not afraid of you or your fucking guard."
Viktor was putting on a display of bravado more than anything because he really was hungry but didn't want his arm broken either. If this guy was offering him food then he'd take it.
"I've no money."
No place would allow a street rat like Viktor in, would they?
Viktor was putting on a display of bravado more than anything because he really was hungry but didn't want his arm broken either. If this guy was offering him food then he'd take it.
"I've no money."
No place would allow a street rat like Viktor in, would they?
Jack smiled at the younger man. "I'm not fooled by your mouth."
He could hear the false confidence and resistance in the blonde's voice. He'd heard it a hundred times from other street kids too.
"I had a good night. I have plenty." Jack was amused by the idea of a ratty street kid and a prostitute wandering into a fancy resturant. He had enough cash to get away with it.
He could hear the false confidence and resistance in the blonde's voice. He'd heard it a hundred times from other street kids too.
"I had a good night. I have plenty." Jack was amused by the idea of a ratty street kid and a prostitute wandering into a fancy resturant. He had enough cash to get away with it.
[pretty obvious that he's the one to take someone in.]
[Absolutely! Do you want to write a starter or shall I?]
[If you've got it in you, that'd be a kindness. If you're not canon-familiar, here's a little background: Sakura here has been shunned by kids and adults for his white hair and mismatched eyes, and so he learned to fight because clearly that's the only way to respond to being shit on. In canon, he lives alone in the most run-down single-occupancy apartment possible. Kid doesn't even have curtains on his windows, let alone furniture. He's been forced to fend for himself and has real feral cat attitude about it.
...but like most feral cats, he just wants tuna fish and a catnip mouse at the end of the day. He wants to be a part of society, but does not believe that's something in the cards for someone like him.]
...but like most feral cats, he just wants tuna fish and a catnip mouse at the end of the day. He wants to be a part of society, but does not believe that's something in the cards for someone like him.]
[ooc: cool thanks for the info, if this doesn't work let me know!]
At first glance most people would assume that Alfred Pennyworth comes from money, with his proper manners, British accent and crisp way of dressing, but these people would be wrong. Alfred in fact grew up in the slums of London, a good ol lad from Whitechapel, and even though he is now Bruce Wayne's butler and lives in a huge estate that doesn't mean he ever forgets where he came from.
Which is why Alfred is no stranger to the Narrows, Gotham's most distressed and derelict area. He often comes down here on behalf of Bruce to keep tabs on things and gather information, which is what he is doing today. He's just finished speaking to one of the local landlords about a fire that was started last week when he hears a commotion coming from one of the alleys, it's not out of the ordinary for fights to break out down here, but Alfred goes to check anyways.
At first glance most people would assume that Alfred Pennyworth comes from money, with his proper manners, British accent and crisp way of dressing, but these people would be wrong. Alfred in fact grew up in the slums of London, a good ol lad from Whitechapel, and even though he is now Bruce Wayne's butler and lives in a huge estate that doesn't mean he ever forgets where he came from.
Which is why Alfred is no stranger to the Narrows, Gotham's most distressed and derelict area. He often comes down here on behalf of Bruce to keep tabs on things and gather information, which is what he is doing today. He's just finished speaking to one of the local landlords about a fire that was started last week when he hears a commotion coming from one of the alleys, it's not out of the ordinary for fights to break out down here, but Alfred goes to check anyways.
In the alley, three grown men surround one teenager with piebald hair and mismatched eyes. They're all taller and have bulk on the kid, but the look in his eyes is determination and anger rather than fear. Fists begin flying, and Sakura seems capable of holding his own, even outnumbered.
At least, until one of the men reaches into a pocket and comes out with a knife.
"Shit!" He tries weaving out of the way, but the guy with the knife seems determined to corner him.
At least, until one of the men reaches into a pocket and comes out with a knife.
"Shit!" He tries weaving out of the way, but the guy with the knife seems determined to corner him.
When the knife appears Alfred decides to step in, it's bad enough that it was three against one but bringing a knife to a fist fight is just rude and unfair. He disarms the man easily using the long umbrella he is carrying, slamming it down hard on the man's wrist and when the knife clatters to the ground Alfred kicks it away.
"Pretty obvious that no one taught you lot the idea behind a fair fight." He says and the man turns on him angrily.
"This aint any of your business grandpa!"
"No respect for your elders either I see." Alfred muses before bringing the umbrella up like a fencing sword, his face calm and his hands steady. "Come on then, sunshine."
It doesn't take long, after all Alfred has far more experience fighting than most and when the man falls unconscious to the ground he turns to look at the other two who are watching, shocked.
"Piss off." He says and they decide to follow the advice and run. With them gone he turns his attention to the boy.
"You all right?"
"Pretty obvious that no one taught you lot the idea behind a fair fight." He says and the man turns on him angrily.
"This aint any of your business grandpa!"
"No respect for your elders either I see." Alfred muses before bringing the umbrella up like a fencing sword, his face calm and his hands steady. "Come on then, sunshine."
It doesn't take long, after all Alfred has far more experience fighting than most and when the man falls unconscious to the ground he turns to look at the other two who are watching, shocked.
"Piss off." He says and they decide to follow the advice and run. With them gone he turns his attention to the boy.
"You all right?"
"I coulda handled it myself."
It seems gratitude is not on the menu; Sakura's expression is wary, surly, and he's maintaining a distance from Alfred as if not wholly convinced he isn't going to attack next, hands still clenched tightly into fists, knuckles raw and bleeding.
But on a closer look, the kid is thin, underfed, and his clothing is old and torn and tight in places. From other fights, perhaps, or much longer wear than it ought to have seen.
It seems gratitude is not on the menu; Sakura's expression is wary, surly, and he's maintaining a distance from Alfred as if not wholly convinced he isn't going to attack next, hands still clenched tightly into fists, knuckles raw and bleeding.
But on a closer look, the kid is thin, underfed, and his clothing is old and torn and tight in places. From other fights, perhaps, or much longer wear than it ought to have seen.
"I never said you couldn't." Alfred says, seemingly unbothered by the young man's rudeness.
"But would you like to tell me why they were attacking you?"
"But would you like to tell me why they were attacking you?"
"They were all following some girl, looking really creepy. I called out to ask what they thought they were doing--she ran, and they all turned on me. Probably serves me right for getting involved. But it was obviously going to go bad if someone didn't do something."
There's a defensiveness in his tone of voice, like he's expecting a reprimand or worse.
There's a defensiveness in his tone of voice, like he's expecting a reprimand or worse.
"I'm sure she's very grateful that you did get involved." He says gently, "Too many people in Gotham look the other way."
It's sad but true, Gotham is a harsh city to live in and whatever doesn't kill you here tends to make you stranger.
"You hurt at all?"
It's sad but true, Gotham is a harsh city to live in and whatever doesn't kill you here tends to make you stranger.
"You hurt at all?"
"I'll be fine."
That's not a 'no', though, and Sakura hasn't started walking away, because he doesn't want a limp to betray him. Early in the fight, he'd taken someone's steel-toed boot to his ankle, and it's beginning to throb as adrenaline wears off.
That's not a 'no', though, and Sakura hasn't started walking away, because he doesn't want a limp to betray him. Early in the fight, he'd taken someone's steel-toed boot to his ankle, and it's beginning to throb as adrenaline wears off.
Alfred can tell the boy has sustained injuries by the way he has his weight shifted slightly off one leg and the way his arm curls around his waist, but a dark alley is no place to offer medical care so instead he decides on plan b.
"Well I don't know about you but a fight always makes me hungry, there's a diner around the corner. You feel like joining me for a burger?"
"Well I don't know about you but a fight always makes me hungry, there's a diner around the corner. You feel like joining me for a burger?"
[ oh no sweet, considerate alfred does not deserve this storm !! &yet i bring her nonetheless.
presenting a nimona. this thing is older than they look but methinks i should best squoosh-mix canon to suit gotham's more modern, gritty setting. idk if you know the story of nimona, but this, er, girl is actually a shapeshifter with no original form and has only defaulted to "human" due to being accepted ( fleetingly ) as a person once upon a time. only to ultimately be betrayed, blah blah, tragic backstory.
because of her abilities, she has long been regarded as a monster and personifies labeling theory ie pursues fulfilling that role - and in doing so, hopes to find belonging? if they say i'm a monster, i will be oneifitmeansihavecommunity. <-- the brilliant thought process.
my thinking is she regularly offers her sidekickery to the sordid, belly-dragging sorts of gotham with an immature approach to the idea of "evil". idk how comfortable you are with accepting her shifting magicks into the world so i am open to nerfing them somewhat. i am also open to this funny idea that nimona invites themself into the bat cave under the notion batman is ~pretty much~ a villain anyway. in a weird way thrusting her strayness upon them cos w o w yea, that is a very nimona approach. ]
presenting a nimona. this thing is older than they look but methinks i should best squoosh-mix canon to suit gotham's more modern, gritty setting. idk if you know the story of nimona, but this, er, girl is actually a shapeshifter with no original form and has only defaulted to "human" due to being accepted ( fleetingly ) as a person once upon a time. only to ultimately be betrayed, blah blah, tragic backstory.
because of her abilities, she has long been regarded as a monster and personifies labeling theory ie pursues fulfilling that role - and in doing so, hopes to find belonging? if they say i'm a monster, i will be one
my thinking is she regularly offers her sidekickery to the sordid, belly-dragging sorts of gotham with an immature approach to the idea of "evil". idk how comfortable you are with accepting her shifting magicks into the world so i am open to nerfing them somewhat. i am also open to this funny idea that nimona invites themself into the bat cave under the notion batman is ~pretty much~ a villain anyway. in a weird way thrusting her strayness upon them cos w o w yea, that is a very nimona approach. ]
[ooc: I am totally cannon blind but it sounds like fun so sure! I'm cool with her having magic, Gotham had Ra's al Ghul so it's not a totally foreign concept. I prefer the idea of her offering her services to a mobster rather than Batman though, mainly because in Gotham Batman doesn't actually exist yet. He's just a wee baby Bruce.]
joseph kavinsky | the raven cycle | ota tho m/m for shipping
aboringsideeffect
2025-05-26 07:19 pm (UTC)(link)
[ could go either way, but considering his substance use, more likely to be taken in ]
[ he has a bad habit of taking in strays ]
[Most likely the stray, but either role is fine!]
[ the one taking in the stray ]
((OOC: I have two Russian strays. Or, rather, an American turned into a Russian and a Russian turned into a sort of American (Nat). Interested in either?))
[ oh hi!! i'd love either of them and happy to do any canon point :') i'm a slow tagger tho as i'm wrangling a baby at home but otherwise i'm cool with pretty much anything. ]
((OOC: No worries on the slow! I've got some health things going on so I'm between boomerang and slow myself so go with whatever pace you're comfortable. My Nat is pre-Thanos and I'm re-canon reviewing Buck. Working through Falcon and Winter Soldier right now. For the sake of this, maybe he could be some ambiguous de-programming state with Steph? I can write the starter if that works for you.))
[ i can boomerang text threads at times, like when i'm stuck with a sleeping baby, but scenes just generally take me a bit longer. anyway, yeah, that works for me! her door's always open for him (or window lol) but she'll be surprised when he actually turns up, all things considered. and thanks for starting :')
for nat, if you also want, maybe post civil war and a little reversal where steph shows up in a safehouse nat gives her the location of? just mutual strayness as fugitives hahaha! ]
for nat, if you also want, maybe post civil war and a little reversal where steph shows up in a safehouse nat gives her the location of? just mutual strayness as fugitives hahaha! ]
((OOC: Man, I couldn't do the baby thing. Mad respect.
Oh! I can absolutely do both Nat and Buck! I think I've got an idea for both for you! ))
The Soldier hadn't been able to get those blue eyes out of his head since the failure of Project Insight. Since his target put down her shield and they both ended up in the Potomac River. He frequented the Cap museum and found his own face there. A recounting of how he'd been lost and how Steph became the Super Soldier. The Star-Spangled Dame of Fame. But he was lost in his own head. 90 years of muddled programming, hazy memories of being used as a weapon, all of it overlapping with the older memories trying to break through. Was he even safe to be around?
In his wandering, he kept finding himself back on a street corner, seeing the blonde jogging like he was drawn to her for some reason. So, one evening, Steph would come home to find a man in an oversized black hoodie, zipped up with the hood pulled up. He was sitting on the floor outside her apartment with his back to her door, head against his knees. Black gloves on both hands used to conceal the metal left hand.
"You're three and a half minutes later than usual." His voice was rough with disuse but he didn't lift his head.
Oh! I can absolutely do both Nat and Buck! I think I've got an idea for both for you! ))
The Soldier hadn't been able to get those blue eyes out of his head since the failure of Project Insight. Since his target put down her shield and they both ended up in the Potomac River. He frequented the Cap museum and found his own face there. A recounting of how he'd been lost and how Steph became the Super Soldier. The Star-Spangled Dame of Fame. But he was lost in his own head. 90 years of muddled programming, hazy memories of being used as a weapon, all of it overlapping with the older memories trying to break through. Was he even safe to be around?
In his wandering, he kept finding himself back on a street corner, seeing the blonde jogging like he was drawn to her for some reason. So, one evening, Steph would come home to find a man in an oversized black hoodie, zipped up with the hood pulled up. He was sitting on the floor outside her apartment with his back to her door, head against his knees. Black gloves on both hands used to conceal the metal left hand.
"You're three and a half minutes later than usual." His voice was rough with disuse but he didn't lift his head.
Steph still preferred running just before dawn, when the world was a little quieter and there were far less people around. But training the new Avengers was something done better in the morning, so she'd shifted her routine to the end of her day and used the route back to her new apartment in Brooklyn. (She'd taken up art commissions online to afford it, since she didn't like staying in the Compound all the time.)
That evening, she'd been thinking of Bucky in particular. Sam was chasing down some leads, but so far they'd all been cold. She was really worried for her old friend; worried about his condition, worried that HYDRA might've gotten hold of him again and wiped his mind and forced him to act against his will, worried that he needed help and she couldn't be there for him.
She slowed as she approached her door, catching sight of the dark figure hunched there. Unsure if it was friendly, she was about to reach for the knife she carried with her — something Bucky had taught her to do back when they were teenagers — when it spoke. She recognized his voice immediately.
"Buck," she said, blinking in surprise. "What are you—" She wanted to reach out, but wary that he would take the movement as some kind of threat, she decided against it. Instead, she fumbled for her keys and waited for him to move out of the way. "You staying for dinner?"
That evening, she'd been thinking of Bucky in particular. Sam was chasing down some leads, but so far they'd all been cold. She was really worried for her old friend; worried about his condition, worried that HYDRA might've gotten hold of him again and wiped his mind and forced him to act against his will, worried that he needed help and she couldn't be there for him.
She slowed as she approached her door, catching sight of the dark figure hunched there. Unsure if it was friendly, she was about to reach for the knife she carried with her — something Bucky had taught her to do back when they were teenagers — when it spoke. She recognized his voice immediately.
"Buck," she said, blinking in surprise. "What are you—" She wanted to reach out, but wary that he would take the movement as some kind of threat, she decided against it. Instead, she fumbled for her keys and waited for him to move out of the way. "You staying for dinner?"
Bucky looked up, his hair falling about his face messily, but more than that, his expression was stricken. "How can you still call me that after so long?" He wasn't sure there was anything of Buck left in him save for the ghost of memories on the fringes of his mind.
His gaze dropped to her keys and he rolled to his feet, out of her way. Honestly, it was a wonder he hadn't been arrested. Some strange hobo camped outside a woman's door? If she happened to notice, he was keeping more than enough space between them every time one of them moved. Like he didn't trust himself near her. "I... shouldn't even be here at all. But I haven't been able to get your face out of my head since I failed to kill you." You know, since he pulled you out of the river, which went against his programming.
His gaze dropped to her keys and he rolled to his feet, out of her way. Honestly, it was a wonder he hadn't been arrested. Some strange hobo camped outside a woman's door? If she happened to notice, he was keeping more than enough space between them every time one of them moved. Like he didn't trust himself near her. "I... shouldn't even be here at all. But I haven't been able to get your face out of my head since I failed to kill you." You know, since he pulled you out of the river, which went against his programming.
She shrugged, but said nothing for a while, just stepped around him to unlock her door. He could've easily broken in if he'd wanted to, really, and she wouldn't have minded, despite the fact that he had tried to kill her.
"What do you want me to call you, then?" she asked as she turned to face him, holding the door open. She had an idea what that was like, to not identify with a name, though she wouldn't dare presume their circumstances were similar. She'd volunteered. He'd had no choice.
Her expression further softened at his admission. It was good, right? That he was beginning to remember her. "I'm glad you're here. I've been looking for you." Not wanting him to misconstrue that, she added, "HYDRA's still everywhere." That had made her angry, that what they'd done during the war, what he had sacrificed, had been for nothing. "I don't... I don't want them getting their hands on you again."
"What do you want me to call you, then?" she asked as she turned to face him, holding the door open. She had an idea what that was like, to not identify with a name, though she wouldn't dare presume their circumstances were similar. She'd volunteered. He'd had no choice.
Her expression further softened at his admission. It was good, right? That he was beginning to remember her. "I'm glad you're here. I've been looking for you." Not wanting him to misconstrue that, she added, "HYDRA's still everywhere." That had made her angry, that what they'd done during the war, what he had sacrificed, had been for nothing. "I don't... I don't want them getting their hands on you again."
In all honesty, the thought had crossed his mind. Slipping into secure locations without a trace was a skill of his, just as it was Natalia's or any of the Widow's. They were both trained similarly. Weapons. But something deep inside him didn't want to invade her privacy without permission right now. He didn't want to be seen as a threat, which went against everything he'd been programmed to be up until now.
"I--" What should he be called? Bucky was dead, wasn't he? He'd been the Asset for so long, but that didn't feel right coming from Steph. James wasn't quite right either. The Winter Soldier was a nightmare he was trying to wake up from... "--don't know. I don't even know who I am anymore."
He studied her features as she stood with the door open. The longer he looked into those blue eyes, the more the Asset melted away. "They've been looking for me. I've been avoiding my Handler. You shouldn't have been looking. It's too dangerous. If my Handler caught on, they could have come after you." He stepped forward then halted just as quickly. "...can I?" He gestured inside.
"I--" What should he be called? Bucky was dead, wasn't he? He'd been the Asset for so long, but that didn't feel right coming from Steph. James wasn't quite right either. The Winter Soldier was a nightmare he was trying to wake up from... "--don't know. I don't even know who I am anymore."
He studied her features as she stood with the door open. The longer he looked into those blue eyes, the more the Asset melted away. "They've been looking for me. I've been avoiding my Handler. You shouldn't have been looking. It's too dangerous. If my Handler caught on, they could have come after you." He stepped forward then halted just as quickly. "...can I?" He gestured inside.
"Let them come." There was no bravado in her tone, just the pure stubborness of that girl who would pick a fight with boys three times her size because they were bullies. She especially wasn't backing down now that it was a matter of protecting him. She would take the Avengers and tear apart every HYDRA base, if that was what it took. It was about time they lived up to their name, anyway.
She waved him inside with a, "Yeah, come on in." They could settle the matter of names later. For now, she was going to be a good host and an even better friend. Her apartment was small, intended only for one occupant, but she'd already decided to give up the bed; God knows when he might've last had a good night's rest, and she didn't sleep much anymore anyway.
In the living room was a small couch and a TV. Piled on one end of the couch were some reading materials — The Lord of the Rings, a compilation of Edgar Allan Poe's works, two romance novels and some comic books — and sitting on top was one of her sketchpads. A pencil had been left in the pad, marking the page with an unfinished sketch of, well, the Winter Soldier. But she'd drawn Bucky's bare face first, then superimposed the heavy, almost angry lines of the mask.
"Make yourself comfortable. I'm just gonna make dinner," she said, shrugging off her jacket to hang behind the door and retying her ponytail into a messy bun.
She waved him inside with a, "Yeah, come on in." They could settle the matter of names later. For now, she was going to be a good host and an even better friend. Her apartment was small, intended only for one occupant, but she'd already decided to give up the bed; God knows when he might've last had a good night's rest, and she didn't sleep much anymore anyway.
In the living room was a small couch and a TV. Piled on one end of the couch were some reading materials — The Lord of the Rings, a compilation of Edgar Allan Poe's works, two romance novels and some comic books — and sitting on top was one of her sketchpads. A pencil had been left in the pad, marking the page with an unfinished sketch of, well, the Winter Soldier. But she'd drawn Bucky's bare face first, then superimposed the heavy, almost angry lines of the mask.
"Make yourself comfortable. I'm just gonna make dinner," she said, shrugging off her jacket to hang behind the door and retying her ponytail into a messy bun.
He remembered that attitude. In flashes of distant memories. And that same attitude was what had him concerned right now. "Steph, you can't just barrel in and take this problem head on." He insisted, but followed her inside anyway. His shoulders were hunched, his hands in his hoodie pockets, almost trying to make himself look smaller. Not the imposing force the Winter Soldier was any time he entered a room.
Bucky looked around the modest apartment, straying to look at her reading collection. He'd read the Lord of the Rings when it originally came out, but some of the other works she had weren't entirely up his alley. Still, he might look into them anyway, just because. However, it was the sketch pad that caught his attention more than anything. Sorry, Steph, he was prying. Images hit him in the form of memories like punches to the face. He recalled some of her older sketches. Before the fall.
The Soldier picked up the sketch book and followed her into the kitchen, touching the lines of the mask with his concealed metal finger. "You still draw." He leaned against a wall across from her, giving her plenty of space, but in view so she knew he was there.
Bucky looked around the modest apartment, straying to look at her reading collection. He'd read the Lord of the Rings when it originally came out, but some of the other works she had weren't entirely up his alley. Still, he might look into them anyway, just because. However, it was the sketch pad that caught his attention more than anything. Sorry, Steph, he was prying. Images hit him in the form of memories like punches to the face. He recalled some of her older sketches. Before the fall.
The Soldier picked up the sketch book and followed her into the kitchen, touching the lines of the mask with his concealed metal finger. "You still draw." He leaned against a wall across from her, giving her plenty of space, but in view so she knew he was there.
Hey
A little birdie told me you might need a place to lay low for a while
I've got you covered
And ditch the phone
You're being tracked
She sent Steph the address to the safehouse and promptly popped the back of her phone off, pulled out the SIM card, dropped the open phone and SIM into a glass of salt water, then got up from the kitchen table. She pulled a lockbox out of a closet and plucked two burner phones from it, activating one for her and leaving the other for Steph.
A little birdie told me you might need a place to lay low for a while
I've got you covered
And ditch the phone
You're being tracked
She sent Steph the address to the safehouse and promptly popped the back of her phone off, pulled out the SIM card, dropped the open phone and SIM into a glass of salt water, then got up from the kitchen table. She pulled a lockbox out of a closet and plucked two burner phones from it, activating one for her and leaving the other for Steph.
Steph had been in Wakanda to visit Bucky, then had gone to check on a lead she'd gotten from Fury on a terrorist group selling Chitauri weaponry that they'd been trying to pin down. It had turned out to be a dead end and had been more trouble than it was worth as she'd had an unfortunate run-in with Ross' SWAT team along the way. Unfortunate for them, just mostly inconvenient for her, as she then needed a place to lie low for a while. Thankfully, Sam and Nat got her back.
She arrived at the safehouse in a suit that terribly needed a wash. So did she, actually. "Sorry for the trouble," she told Nat, tugging down the hood of her jacket as she entered. "But thanks for coming to my rescue again."
She arrived at the safehouse in a suit that terribly needed a wash. So did she, actually. "Sorry for the trouble," she told Nat, tugging down the hood of her jacket as she entered. "But thanks for coming to my rescue again."
"No trouble at all." Nat smiled and slipped into the kitchen to make them both some mac 'n cheese so Steph had something to eat when she for out of the shower.
"For you? Anything, Cap." She answered as she set the pot on the stove. "Bathroom on the right has the shower. I've got fresh clothes out for you on the sink. Ross's really starting to become a pain. You okay? We didn't really get a chance to breathe. Wilson's better at the whole field medicine thing, but I'm not inept."
"For you? Anything, Cap." She answered as she set the pot on the stove. "Bathroom on the right has the shower. I've got fresh clothes out for you on the sink. Ross's really starting to become a pain. You okay? We didn't really get a chance to breathe. Wilson's better at the whole field medicine thing, but I'm not inept."
"You and Sam, you're both lifesavers. Remind me to thank him later." She'd ditched her phone as instructed, but Nat probably had a burner ready for her too. Following the redhead into the kitchen, she ran her fingers through the messy strands of her hair. She ought to just cut it off, but it had been a little hard to let go because she'd grown up styling and curling her hair, and, well, Bucky had liked her hair long.
"I'm okay, just exhausted." She extracted several handguns from her person, checking each one for how much ammo it had left before setting it down on the counter. She had a knife in her boot, too, but she wasn't relinquishing that. "I was being careful, but I guess Ross has his eyes on Wakanda now, too. Lead was cold, though. I already told Fury."
She swept a glance around the kitchen, then leaned against the counter. "I also haven't thanked you for the save, at the airport." She really hadn't wanted to fight any more of her friends. "I'd offer to help you cook as a sign of my gratitude, but I'm better at eating."
"I'm okay, just exhausted." She extracted several handguns from her person, checking each one for how much ammo it had left before setting it down on the counter. She had a knife in her boot, too, but she wasn't relinquishing that. "I was being careful, but I guess Ross has his eyes on Wakanda now, too. Lead was cold, though. I already told Fury."
She swept a glance around the kitchen, then leaned against the counter. "I also haven't thanked you for the save, at the airport." She really hadn't wanted to fight any more of her friends. "I'd offer to help you cook as a sign of my gratitude, but I'm better at eating."
Natasha was very aware of every step Steph took. It wasn't anything to do with Cap herself, but just Nat's built-in paranoia. So when the blonde followed her into the kitchen, she tossed a phone in here direction without looking up from what she was doing. She trusts your reflexes, Steph. "You don't have to thank us." She leaned her hip against the bench and pointed a spoon at Steph. "We're here for you, no matter what Ross tosses our way."
"We were all being careful. Ross is just..." Nat shrugged and went back to 'cooking'. "We'll get through this, Rogers. I promise." The offer was met with a wry smile and maybe even a soft snort of a laugh from Nat. "I'd rather not burn down this safe house. I happen to like this one."
"Besides, it's just mac 'n cheese. A family recipe passed down for generations." She teased and tossed the empty blue box in the trash. "I think I can handle it. Just get comfortable."
"We were all being careful. Ross is just..." Nat shrugged and went back to 'cooking'. "We'll get through this, Rogers. I promise." The offer was met with a wry smile and maybe even a soft snort of a laugh from Nat. "I'd rather not burn down this safe house. I happen to like this one."
"Besides, it's just mac 'n cheese. A family recipe passed down for generations." She teased and tossed the empty blue box in the trash. "I think I can handle it. Just get comfortable."
The first time Logan sees the kid (kid? He's a teenager, perhaps fifteen or sixteen, but they all look so young to Logan at this point), he's in a scrap against two other teenagers his age, and Logan doesn't have time that day to stop or intervene, but it looks like the boy with the piebald hair can hold his own, anyway.
The second time, though, that Logan notices Sakura in the street, he's surrounded by five grown men and looks like he's determined to handle them in the same way, with his fists and feet and sheer determination on his side (while at least one of the adult thugs is reaching for a knife). And beyond that, there's a woman behind the teenager, wide-eyed, clearly using him for protection.
And this time, Logan has nothing pressing drawing him away from the matter.
The second time, though, that Logan notices Sakura in the street, he's surrounded by five grown men and looks like he's determined to handle them in the same way, with his fists and feet and sheer determination on his side (while at least one of the adult thugs is reaching for a knife). And beyond that, there's a woman behind the teenager, wide-eyed, clearly using him for protection.
And this time, Logan has nothing pressing drawing him away from the matter.
Generally Logan stays out of other people's affairs. They're too messy, and uninvited interruption isn't often welcome. A couple of kids brawling? That seems normal enough in the grand scheme of things. Maybe he's just biased when he sees the apparent underdog keeping his opponents on their toes. They could just be friends roughhousing.
Seeing grown men targeting a kid and a woman? Now that he can't walk past. Especially not when one of them is reaching for a weapon.
He diverts his path to grab the man's wrist and twist it uncomfortably, snatching the knife and eyeing it, then the group. "What is this? Grown men attacking a single woman and child with knives?"
Seeing grown men targeting a kid and a woman? Now that he can't walk past. Especially not when one of them is reaching for a weapon.
He diverts his path to grab the man's wrist and twist it uncomfortably, snatching the knife and eyeing it, then the group. "What is this? Grown men attacking a single woman and child with knives?"
"Naw, you got us all wrong, see I was just asking the babe if she wanted someone to walk her home..."
Sakura's lip curls up in something of a snarl when a yet another stranger steps into the fight. Like, even though Logan's going after one of the other adults, he doesn't seem completely sure he can rely on him being an ally. So while the assholes are looking at Logan and knife-dude, he launches himself at one of the other guys for a massive uppercut.
See, Sakura may know how to fight, and to fight well, but he has not yet learned that not every fight needs to be won, rather than merely ended. He doesn't know how to walk away. This starts the scuffle fresh, the thuggish men going after both him and Logan without any shame.
Sakura's lip curls up in something of a snarl when a yet another stranger steps into the fight. Like, even though Logan's going after one of the other adults, he doesn't seem completely sure he can rely on him being an ally. So while the assholes are looking at Logan and knife-dude, he launches himself at one of the other guys for a massive uppercut.
See, Sakura may know how to fight, and to fight well, but he has not yet learned that not every fight needs to be won, rather than merely ended. He doesn't know how to walk away. This starts the scuffle fresh, the thuggish men going after both him and Logan without any shame.
Logan had been ready for a potential fight, but he'd expected a chance to 'encourage' the men to stand down. The ridiculous excuse was normal enough. The kid suddenly punching a man like a feral balverine? Less so.
Taking the knife away is easy enough, and he's grateful to have had that much of an advantage. Twisting the wrist in his grip allows him to half trip, half throw, one man towards another. That gives him a bit of breathing room to turn on one of the others.
"Back down!" They might not be his men, but he gives the order anyway. He still has the knife gripped in his hand and he really doesn't want to use it. They might have brought it, but the moment someone gets cut it changes the atmosphere of a fight.
Taking the knife away is easy enough, and he's grateful to have had that much of an advantage. Twisting the wrist in his grip allows him to half trip, half throw, one man towards another. That gives him a bit of breathing room to turn on one of the others.
"Back down!" They might not be his men, but he gives the order anyway. He still has the knife gripped in his hand and he really doesn't want to use it. They might have brought it, but the moment someone gets cut it changes the atmosphere of a fight.
[ either role works, though probably the stray. ]
[Either role is fine, whether you might be a soul lost in Hell that she might hesitate before smacking, or you might find her on earth after she's separated from Pazelius.]
[ it's been about a month since the enterprise took on their new... well, refugee is the term closest to accurate, jim guesses, in the way that all people who come unbidden and against their will from other timelines are refugees. and in the way how a romulan as un-romulan as narek is just inherently a refugee by default.
it's a learning curve on both ends, but jim's been hoping they've managed to skirt past the biggest elephant(s) in the room(s).
and for the most part, they have. there are some things they've been trying to work through still that he's sure are going to take time: members of the crew who let their gaze skate across and off of him because lingering means they'll have to acknowledge things they'd rather not, a couple of fired-up arguments. however, most of the crew steps in line thanks to the fact that if anyone could and should be a cunt to a random romulan, it'd be spock or jim kirk, both of whom are steadfast and pointed in their treatment of their guest.
('guest' is better than 'prisoner,' because while at no point have they indicated him to be such, the truth of the matter is that frankly, this is the only place in this universe other than some kind of grounded-on-planet political asylum where narek is going to be able to exist.)
a couple of weeks back, they'd gone through and dealt with the concept of lacking a grounding compass of identity in a space where the romulan's inherent makeup was something potentially unpalatable to others and they'd tried to figure out a balance between romulan and not-romulan while here. jim hopes it'd helped, at least. things've been okay since, or at least that's what he's figured.
today's not going great, though. jim waves spock off as they both step out of his ready room; he squeezes the vulcan's shoulder and shakes his head with a sigh. ]
Hell of a call to get when we're this far out, but I'll handle it. Take the conn while I'm busy.
[ he doesn't leave room for argument. much like how when he knocks on the door to narek's quarters and, after waiting for permission to enter, steps inside to sit on the sofa in the room, his demeanor screams 'unskippable conversation, pressing x will do nothing.' ]
On the scale of fun conversations this one's going to be low as hell, but neither of us have much of a choice in the matter and I want your involvement.
it's a learning curve on both ends, but jim's been hoping they've managed to skirt past the biggest elephant(s) in the room(s).
and for the most part, they have. there are some things they've been trying to work through still that he's sure are going to take time: members of the crew who let their gaze skate across and off of him because lingering means they'll have to acknowledge things they'd rather not, a couple of fired-up arguments. however, most of the crew steps in line thanks to the fact that if anyone could and should be a cunt to a random romulan, it'd be spock or jim kirk, both of whom are steadfast and pointed in their treatment of their guest.
('guest' is better than 'prisoner,' because while at no point have they indicated him to be such, the truth of the matter is that frankly, this is the only place in this universe other than some kind of grounded-on-planet political asylum where narek is going to be able to exist.)
a couple of weeks back, they'd gone through and dealt with the concept of lacking a grounding compass of identity in a space where the romulan's inherent makeup was something potentially unpalatable to others and they'd tried to figure out a balance between romulan and not-romulan while here. jim hopes it'd helped, at least. things've been okay since, or at least that's what he's figured.
today's not going great, though. jim waves spock off as they both step out of his ready room; he squeezes the vulcan's shoulder and shakes his head with a sigh. ]
Hell of a call to get when we're this far out, but I'll handle it. Take the conn while I'm busy.
[ he doesn't leave room for argument. much like how when he knocks on the door to narek's quarters and, after waiting for permission to enter, steps inside to sit on the sofa in the room, his demeanor screams 'unskippable conversation, pressing x will do nothing.' ]
On the scale of fun conversations this one's going to be low as hell, but neither of us have much of a choice in the matter and I want your involvement.
[ truthfully, narek's fortunate. he has some experience with the federation and starfleet, so that's helped, and.. he's alive. that's more than he expected. perhaps if he were a better romulan, a better operative, more like his sister, he'd have taken care of it on his own, killing himself instead of allowing himself to be kept here. but he's not his sister, he never has been, and he's weak.
still, he feels caged here. nothing is familiar. the air is different: not like the home he barely remembers, or vashti, or even a romulan ship. he misses keeping his hands busy with his favorite tan zhekran. he can't meditate, or think, or breathe.
and the worst part of it all is that the captain and his first officer--alternate versions of james t. kirk and ambassador spock--have been.. kind. they could have left him stranded, at the mercy of the elements or the empire. they would have been right to do so, truthfully, given this enterprise's history with romulans, given the trouble of offering asylum to not just a romulan, but one of the tal shiar. if it ever gets back to the empire--
it's something he thinks about a great deal. it's something he's thinking about now, hands folded white-knuckled together at the small of his back. his quarters, despite being here weeks now, are still spotless and impersonal. it's partially due to the habits of a lifetime: he's playing no particular role, and thus has no reason to decorate accordingly, and otherwise, personal touches give too much away. he's also waiting for the other shoe to drop.
for a few moments after the captain speaks, he simply stares, eyes flicking over the human's face, taking in the minute changes in his expression and body language. it's not exactly hard to read him right now-- he's telegraphing his unhappiness, and has said as much. then a lifetime of obedience kicks in and he forces his hands to uncurl. he steps around the chair he was standing behind, sinking stiffly down into it. ]
I'm accustomed to un-fun conversations. Am I being handed to the Empire?
still, he feels caged here. nothing is familiar. the air is different: not like the home he barely remembers, or vashti, or even a romulan ship. he misses keeping his hands busy with his favorite tan zhekran. he can't meditate, or think, or breathe.
and the worst part of it all is that the captain and his first officer--alternate versions of james t. kirk and ambassador spock--have been.. kind. they could have left him stranded, at the mercy of the elements or the empire. they would have been right to do so, truthfully, given this enterprise's history with romulans, given the trouble of offering asylum to not just a romulan, but one of the tal shiar. if it ever gets back to the empire--
it's something he thinks about a great deal. it's something he's thinking about now, hands folded white-knuckled together at the small of his back. his quarters, despite being here weeks now, are still spotless and impersonal. it's partially due to the habits of a lifetime: he's playing no particular role, and thus has no reason to decorate accordingly, and otherwise, personal touches give too much away. he's also waiting for the other shoe to drop.
for a few moments after the captain speaks, he simply stares, eyes flicking over the human's face, taking in the minute changes in his expression and body language. it's not exactly hard to read him right now-- he's telegraphing his unhappiness, and has said as much. then a lifetime of obedience kicks in and he forces his hands to uncurl. he steps around the chair he was standing behind, sinking stiffly down into it. ]
I'm accustomed to un-fun conversations. Am I being handed to the Empire?
[ the thing is, jim is intimately familiar with feeling caged in numerous ways and numerous situations. he's also intimately familiar with ill-advised, well-meaning attempts to make places seem less alarming or more like 'home' or whatever the fuck it is people who don't understand a thing try to do to 'fix' things.
he just treats narek like a person, because narek is a person. he got the usual speech about fucking around and finding out, of course, but he also got the same quarters someone else would, the same overall level of involvement.
the fact that narek thinks not leaving him to fucking die is being kind isn't jim's problem.
the fact that the romulan empire has decided it's their business that a romulan from another timeline is here again is, frankly, everyone's problem.
jim watches narek go through these steps of interaction and waits for him to sit before he speaks again. ]
You and me both. [ which is true, but that's where the comparison ends. there's a huge difference between being tal shiar and being the captain of a federation vessel, but hell if there aren't un-fun conversations in both positions.
he does quirk a brow slightly at the question though, then snorts. ]
That's what they want, but no. Not on the table. After they decided the grace with which we responded to Nero and his crew was irrelevant, they don't get to make demands like that. Them's the breaks. I mean, even if they hadn't been cunts about that it wouldn't be on the table, but it's cute they think they get to try it.
[ he sinks down in the seat and drags his fingers through his hair. ]
No. I want your thoughts on alternatives. On top of that, I'd like to know who let slip that you're here in the first place.
he just treats narek like a person, because narek is a person. he got the usual speech about fucking around and finding out, of course, but he also got the same quarters someone else would, the same overall level of involvement.
the fact that narek thinks not leaving him to fucking die is being kind isn't jim's problem.
the fact that the romulan empire has decided it's their business that a romulan from another timeline is here again is, frankly, everyone's problem.
jim watches narek go through these steps of interaction and waits for him to sit before he speaks again. ]
You and me both. [ which is true, but that's where the comparison ends. there's a huge difference between being tal shiar and being the captain of a federation vessel, but hell if there aren't un-fun conversations in both positions.
he does quirk a brow slightly at the question though, then snorts. ]
That's what they want, but no. Not on the table. After they decided the grace with which we responded to Nero and his crew was irrelevant, they don't get to make demands like that. Them's the breaks. I mean, even if they hadn't been cunts about that it wouldn't be on the table, but it's cute they think they get to try it.
[ he sinks down in the seat and drags his fingers through his hair. ]
No. I want your thoughts on alternatives. On top of that, I'd like to know who let slip that you're here in the first place.
[ .. no? he shouldn't be surprised, because it's very like the federation--the best parts of it, anyway--but it's still an awful lot of trouble for one romulan operative. they have no idea what he really is.. but perhaps to them, it's worth it. perhaps any information from one of the tal shiar is valuable in their eyes.
and how much does the empire guess, if they're demanding his return?
he doesn't bother to keep his expression even. kirk should know that he's concerned-- less for his own sake, though, than for what the empire might do with the information narek has. he's from the future. he's tal shiar. his family was part of the zhat vash, and he knows the truth of seb-cheneb.
he bends, elbows on his knees, hands curling together against his mouth. ] .. I can find out, if that's what you want. [ who let slip, and how much they said. only the captain and his command crew know more than the bare minimum of details of narek's existence, but that's not to say that there isn't gossip. a single, injured romulan so far out? almost certainly a spy of some sort, surely. ]
I'll need a believable identity. [ difficult, given the empire's excellent record-keeping, but not impossible. a low-level criminal of some sort would be troubling and embarrassing, but not alarming or suspicious, necessarily. ] I can put something together, but I don't have contacts here the way I would at home. [ he pauses, eyes sliding shut, pressing his brow to his fists instead. ] If they have any idea of what I actually know, they'll never stop coming for me.
and how much does the empire guess, if they're demanding his return?
he doesn't bother to keep his expression even. kirk should know that he's concerned-- less for his own sake, though, than for what the empire might do with the information narek has. he's from the future. he's tal shiar. his family was part of the zhat vash, and he knows the truth of seb-cheneb.
he bends, elbows on his knees, hands curling together against his mouth. ] .. I can find out, if that's what you want. [ who let slip, and how much they said. only the captain and his command crew know more than the bare minimum of details of narek's existence, but that's not to say that there isn't gossip. a single, injured romulan so far out? almost certainly a spy of some sort, surely. ]
I'll need a believable identity. [ difficult, given the empire's excellent record-keeping, but not impossible. a low-level criminal of some sort would be troubling and embarrassing, but not alarming or suspicious, necessarily. ] I can put something together, but I don't have contacts here the way I would at home. [ he pauses, eyes sliding shut, pressing his brow to his fists instead. ] If they have any idea of what I actually know, they'll never stop coming for me.
Edited (some rewording) 2025-05-27 03:21 (UTC)
[ narek will learn, eventually, that the fact that he's a romulan operative isn't the reason why jim gives enough of a shit to make sure he doesn't end up in the empire's hands. eventually, he'll figure out that actually, jim just gives enough fucks about people, and especially people in bad situations, that he'd fight god if he had to so he could save a single person.
in the meantime, though, jim catalogs every bit of the other man's expression, notes his concern, and presses on accordingly. ]
Finding out needs to happen, but if it's going to put you in a position where they can get at you easily, I'd rather find a different way. We're more resourceful than other ships in the fleet, that's for sure. [ he pauses, considering further, tilting his head. most of the time, in normal conversation, jim's got an attitude that's a bit like an excited dog. maybe a golden retriever, happy to be here and playful. times like this though, mid-planning, when shit might hit the fan or already has, he's like this. not cold but calculating, an interested and intent predator animal rather than anything someone might mistake for misguided, naive, or soft. ]
I can't guarantee the contacts available here will be quite on par with the network you had back home, but we have what we have. It's been a while since we've had to remove someone's metaphorical footprint from the uh, tapestry of the universe, but we've done it before and we can do it again.
[ he does not, in fact, offer explanation for how or when or why that happened. then, firmly: ]
Part of the reason I came to you like this is to make sure you're fully aware that we don't just throw people to whoever demands it. No matter what. I honestly don't know the full breadth of the historical reputation the other me has in your time and I don't want to know, but I feel pretty confident that this, at least, is gonna be a constant.
in the meantime, though, jim catalogs every bit of the other man's expression, notes his concern, and presses on accordingly. ]
Finding out needs to happen, but if it's going to put you in a position where they can get at you easily, I'd rather find a different way. We're more resourceful than other ships in the fleet, that's for sure. [ he pauses, considering further, tilting his head. most of the time, in normal conversation, jim's got an attitude that's a bit like an excited dog. maybe a golden retriever, happy to be here and playful. times like this though, mid-planning, when shit might hit the fan or already has, he's like this. not cold but calculating, an interested and intent predator animal rather than anything someone might mistake for misguided, naive, or soft. ]
I can't guarantee the contacts available here will be quite on par with the network you had back home, but we have what we have. It's been a while since we've had to remove someone's metaphorical footprint from the uh, tapestry of the universe, but we've done it before and we can do it again.
[ he does not, in fact, offer explanation for how or when or why that happened. then, firmly: ]
Part of the reason I came to you like this is to make sure you're fully aware that we don't just throw people to whoever demands it. No matter what. I honestly don't know the full breadth of the historical reputation the other me has in your time and I don't want to know, but I feel pretty confident that this, at least, is gonna be a constant.
Edited 2025-05-30 01:30 (UTC)
[ he'd had contingency plans for the federation handing him over to the praetor. he'd had them for kirk handing him to section 31, too. they'd both involved killing himself before any exchanges could happen. he doesn't want to die, but he doesn't want more war that's just going to cripple the empire in the end, either. eventually, they'll need the federation.
the fact, then, that the captain is so determined to keep him here, to keep him safe, is.. bizarre. confusing. he's not his sister, but he's still tal shiar-- no one's defended him like this since he was a child. it's been his own duty to watch his back, to claw his way into his position and keep it. but kirk's expression is serious, sincere, and.. narek doesn't trust him exactly, not yet, but he thinks he trusts him to keep his word.
if he is anything like the kirk of his own timeline, then he's an honorable man, and that feels overwhelming, in a way. ]
You're your own man, regardless, [ he says to the last, quiet, pale blue-gray eyes meeting the human's. ] I-- [ his mouth presses thin briefly. ] Thank you. It's shameful, my asking this of you, but I'm grateful.
[ he rubs a thumb into the corner of one eye, sighing quietly. ] There are contacts, organizations, that likely exist in this time that I can offer, so I'll make a list of those. [ he hesitates, straightening again, laced fingers dropping to his lap. ] You are also free to make use of me in whatever way you wish. I'd like to earn my keep. [ a slight tilt of his head, a concession. ] .. Barring actions that would harm my people or the empire as a whole. [ he doesn't think a man like james kirk would ask that of him in the first place, but it needs to be said. ]
the fact, then, that the captain is so determined to keep him here, to keep him safe, is.. bizarre. confusing. he's not his sister, but he's still tal shiar-- no one's defended him like this since he was a child. it's been his own duty to watch his back, to claw his way into his position and keep it. but kirk's expression is serious, sincere, and.. narek doesn't trust him exactly, not yet, but he thinks he trusts him to keep his word.
if he is anything like the kirk of his own timeline, then he's an honorable man, and that feels overwhelming, in a way. ]
You're your own man, regardless, [ he says to the last, quiet, pale blue-gray eyes meeting the human's. ] I-- [ his mouth presses thin briefly. ] Thank you. It's shameful, my asking this of you, but I'm grateful.
[ he rubs a thumb into the corner of one eye, sighing quietly. ] There are contacts, organizations, that likely exist in this time that I can offer, so I'll make a list of those. [ he hesitates, straightening again, laced fingers dropping to his lap. ] You are also free to make use of me in whatever way you wish. I'd like to earn my keep. [ a slight tilt of his head, a concession. ] .. Barring actions that would harm my people or the empire as a whole. [ he doesn't think a man like james kirk would ask that of him in the first place, but it needs to be said. ]
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