application | rubycity
Name: Malathyne
E-mail: when.all.your.dreams.come.true at gmail
AIM: ThineMalathyne
Character Name: James T. Kirk
Canon: Star Trek XI (reboot/2009 movie)
Timeline: First day after the end of the movie. Jim goes to bed after the ship takes off and... wakes up in a train.
First Person:
Sample post (made on dear_mun) here ; used with permission to link to the post in replacement of a sample
Third Person:
"Your father was captain of the starship for twelve minutes. He saved eight hundred lives, including your mother's... and yours." Pike paused for the breadth of a second. "I dare you to do better."
Jim rode his motorcycle out to the shipyard early that morning, after he sobered up enough to drive without getting himself killed. He drove past farm after farm, vast expanses of flat land, the dry dirt of the road flying up like seafoam in his wake. He knew that land, knew that road. Knew it like the back of his hand. It had long since ceased being any semblance of comforting. Instead, it was... confining. Stifling. He could look around and see as far as his eyes could to all directions, and he saw... nothing. There wasn't anything for him there. Not since his brother did the smart thing and got the hell out.
He came to a stop by the wire fence surrounding the shipyard. A starship had been under construction there for God knew how long. It towered above him, taller than any tree that ever would've grown in that damn state. It no longer looked like a skeleton, but it wasn't anywhere near being complete; giant scaffolding held it up and large panels of its grey skin were missing, exposing the bones and veins of metal and electricity within. Jim could trace with his eyes the emerging signs of grace in the lines of its design. He followed the shape of the arching neck to the flat oval head, and from there up to the sky. The sun wasn't up yet, and the whole scene was cast in teals and greys in the half-born sunlight.
Not for the first time in his life, Jim felt insignificant. Small. Just a pinprick with an attitude in an ocean of hicks and farm animals. Sitting there, staring up at the ship and the sky, he could really feel how worthless a punk like him was in the face of the rest of the universe. "So your dad dies, you can settle for less than an ordinary life. And you feel like you were meant for something more. Something better."
He stayed there for a long time. For hours. Until the sun came up and the horizon was bathed daisy yellow. Thoughts slipped through his mind like water through his fingers, sifting through his palm before falling freely away where they could be forgotten.
He wouldn't be able to explain his thought process to anyone later, not even himself. He knew he weighed his choices, considered the consequences of if he chose to stay or if he chose to go, what would happen if he failed there, what would happen if he succeeded, where he would go from there. He knew he thought about his brother. His uncle. His mom. His dad. About what could've been, should've been, never was, never would be. And he knew the conclusion he came to. It was a cliché, predictable one, but Jim didn't care because, hell, it was true. What else was he supposed to think?
Anywhere was better than here.
He didn't care if he wound up flunking out. No... Actually, that wasn't true. He wasn't going to flunk out. He wouldn't accept loss. He wouldn't lose. He could make it. He could do it. He could win it. And he would. He'd get up there no matter how hard he had to work. He'd stop being a face among a mass of uniforms, and he'd be the biggest goddamn star in the sky.
Enlisting turned out to be the best damn decision he ever made in his life.
E-mail: when.all.your.dreams.come.true at gmail
AIM: ThineMalathyne
Character Name: James T. Kirk
Canon: Star Trek XI (reboot/2009 movie)
Timeline: First day after the end of the movie. Jim goes to bed after the ship takes off and... wakes up in a train.
First Person:
Sample post (made on dear_mun) here ; used with permission to link to the post in replacement of a sample
Third Person:
"Your father was captain of the starship for twelve minutes. He saved eight hundred lives, including your mother's... and yours." Pike paused for the breadth of a second. "I dare you to do better."
Jim rode his motorcycle out to the shipyard early that morning, after he sobered up enough to drive without getting himself killed. He drove past farm after farm, vast expanses of flat land, the dry dirt of the road flying up like seafoam in his wake. He knew that land, knew that road. Knew it like the back of his hand. It had long since ceased being any semblance of comforting. Instead, it was... confining. Stifling. He could look around and see as far as his eyes could to all directions, and he saw... nothing. There wasn't anything for him there. Not since his brother did the smart thing and got the hell out.
He came to a stop by the wire fence surrounding the shipyard. A starship had been under construction there for God knew how long. It towered above him, taller than any tree that ever would've grown in that damn state. It no longer looked like a skeleton, but it wasn't anywhere near being complete; giant scaffolding held it up and large panels of its grey skin were missing, exposing the bones and veins of metal and electricity within. Jim could trace with his eyes the emerging signs of grace in the lines of its design. He followed the shape of the arching neck to the flat oval head, and from there up to the sky. The sun wasn't up yet, and the whole scene was cast in teals and greys in the half-born sunlight.
Not for the first time in his life, Jim felt insignificant. Small. Just a pinprick with an attitude in an ocean of hicks and farm animals. Sitting there, staring up at the ship and the sky, he could really feel how worthless a punk like him was in the face of the rest of the universe. "So your dad dies, you can settle for less than an ordinary life. And you feel like you were meant for something more. Something better."
He stayed there for a long time. For hours. Until the sun came up and the horizon was bathed daisy yellow. Thoughts slipped through his mind like water through his fingers, sifting through his palm before falling freely away where they could be forgotten.
He wouldn't be able to explain his thought process to anyone later, not even himself. He knew he weighed his choices, considered the consequences of if he chose to stay or if he chose to go, what would happen if he failed there, what would happen if he succeeded, where he would go from there. He knew he thought about his brother. His uncle. His mom. His dad. About what could've been, should've been, never was, never would be. And he knew the conclusion he came to. It was a cliché, predictable one, but Jim didn't care because, hell, it was true. What else was he supposed to think?
Anywhere was better than here.
He didn't care if he wound up flunking out. No... Actually, that wasn't true. He wasn't going to flunk out. He wouldn't accept loss. He wouldn't lose. He could make it. He could do it. He could win it. And he would. He'd get up there no matter how hard he had to work. He'd stop being a face among a mass of uniforms, and he'd be the biggest goddamn star in the sky.
Enlisting turned out to be the best damn decision he ever made in his life.