Stray

[sneaks]

S T R A Y Taking in strays is, all in all, an understandable vice. The dips in between their ribs, those large and forlorn eyes, they can help you forget the claws and the teeth and the danger lurking beneath fur. But the habit's a knife edge; your efforts may not be rewarded with kindness (animal instincts aren't discretionary) and you may get bit despite what you've overlooked. A stray doesn't care about pity. All it can know is survival. These warnings apply to strays of the more human(oid) sort, too. But what may even more perilous with this type than any drawn blood is what you can get when they grow to trust you. You can earn their undying loyalty...or their love. Either from such a wild thing is a precarious path to go down, if you allow yourself to do it. Comment with your character, preferences, desired roles, etc. Reply to others. Thread! ＰＲＯＭＰＴＳ ғɪɴᴅɪɴɢ — Who's that? They're no ordinary passersby! Were they in an accident? Are they foreign? ...should you approach them? ʀᴀɪɴ, ʀᴀɪɴ, ɢᴏ ᴀᴡᴀʏ — The elements make this night no time to sleep out of doors. ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜ — Cuts, broken bones, injuries all of sorts...you have to stitch them back up, then make sure they don't get any ɢᴏᴏᴅ ɢᴜᴇsᴛ — It's all you can do to show gratitude to the person who took you in. Fix them a meal, care for their house, whatever you can do once you're able. ʙᴀᴅ ɢᴜᴇsᴛ — FUCK THIS PERSON AND FUCK THEIR COUCH. You didn't ask to be brought here. Let them clean up after you, you don't even care. ᴡʜᴏ ᴀᴍ ɪ? — How you got into this situation is a mystery. Even more of a mystery is your identity, and why the person you were would be so displaced. sᴇʟғʟᴇssɴᴇss — ʟᴇᴀʀɴɪɴɢ — If you've been injured badly enough or can't remember all too well, you might have to relearn a good deal. Luckily, you have a helping hand. sᴄᴀʀs — Scars from the encounter that lead you here or scars from prior, you don't want them to see either. You still have your secrets to keep. sᴛᴜʙʙᴏʀɴ — Ugh, your house guest is so stubborn! They always get up when they should be resting, have the worst habits, and completely disrespect your home! You'll get to them, one way or another. Or you'll throw them out. You don't want to, but you will. ᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛ — Bad memories or nightmares wreck you; your host and nurse comes to your side unexpectedly. ᴄᴜʟᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄʟᴀsʜ — The person who's taken you in is from a different culture or lifestyle than you, and adapting is harder than you thought. ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ғᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ — Think learning about a new culture is hard? Try being a different species. Can you keep your little eccentricities at bay for the good of your station? ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜsʏ — Now that your emotions towards your caretaker/host/jailer are softening, you're finding yourself unusually jealous of those in their life who were close to them before. ɴᴇᴡ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴠɪᴛɪᴇs — You never thought you'd have fun after all that's happened, yet such simple gestures as a picnic or a movie make all the difference. ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ — You love them, this person who's taken you in or this person you've found. It's not a pity or a thankfulness, it's love, and you know that now. What you choose to do with this information is ʜɪsᴛᴏʀʏ — Suddenly, the person who's been so nice to you finds out that the two of you have a history. You killed their loved ones or caused something terrible. How can they forgive you? ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ — So much has been done for you. The least you can do in return for the one who helped you at your lowest is make sure they never have such a low point. ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀ ᴄᴏᴍᴇs ᴋɴᴏᴄᴋɪɴɢ — Anyone in the way of getting to you will be destroyed, and that includes the person you're staying with. ʟɪᴠᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇᴍ — You've been given a home, maybe which you've never had before. You don't want to leave. ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴄᴇ — Not only are you living with them, but you're starting a proper life with them. ʀᴇᴠᴇᴀʟ — All secrets are laid out on the table. You've decided to tell about your past and what lead you here. ʀᴇᴠᴜʟsɪᴏɴ — What you've done and who you are is so heinous, they want nothing more to do. You're to leave their home and leave them alone. ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ — It doesn't matter what they've done. You've opened your home and your heart to them, and nothing's changed. ᴘᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ — All things must come to an end. No matter what you feel for each other, it's time to leave. Hopefully, you'll see each other again. ʜᴀᴘᴘɪʟʏ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ — Come what may, you've decided to stay at your new home with the person you love. Now, it's safe enough to do so. ᴡɪʟᴅᴄᴀʀᴅ

Comments

narek ( star trek: pic )

[zhalmakh]

[negativechill]

[ 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.

[zhalmakh]

[ 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?

[negativechill]

[ 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.

[zhalmakh]

[ .. 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.

[negativechill]

[ 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.

[zhalmakh]

[ 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. ]

[negativechill]

I'm nothing if not singular, sure.

[ a self-deprecting joke that honestly doesn't feel so self-deprecating these days. fake it until you make it, huh?

but there are more important things to focus on. ]

You're not asking me for anything, actually. I'm offering, and you're doing me a favor in return. [ he meets him for tone and volume, but steadfast and refusing to budge. jim does his best to respect aspects of others' cultures, he really does, and frankly he does a really good job of it. but he won't let something like this be shameful. he doesn't care if he's got to call it a fucking transaction, but it's not something to be fucking ashamed of for jim to not throw narek to whatever would be waiting for him.

and in that same vein, he sighs and settles back into the seat a little more, lifting one hand not dismissively but in a request to gather his response. ]

There's no earning your keep in the Federation. There is reciprocity though, and wanting to help. I know what it feels like to need to feel 'useful' even if it's an antiquated concept. I'll be grateful for anything you're able to do to assist, but you're in no way obligated, especially if it's something that might harm your people in any way. I don't intend to ask for those things, but you're free to bring up concerns if you have any and I've missed something.

[ he sits longer, longer, chews on the edge of his thumbnail in a way that indicates thoughtfulness and not nervousness or an attempt at deception.

at length: ]

I dunno if this is gonna sound like a platitude. Maybe it is. But being pulled out of where you feel like you should be and put somewhere else sucks shit, especially when there's no way to go 'home,' whether that's where you came from or someone else. The universe is beautiful, but it's also huge and cold and easy to get lost in. I'm glad you ended up here, at least. I do like to think of us as, uh, the less complicated consequence of time distortion.