fateprotected

[fateprotected]

@paramounticebound

“‘𝐼 𝒥𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒲𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝒯𝑜 𝐵𝑒 𝒫𝑒𝓇𝒻𝑒𝒸𝓉’”

[fateprotected]

@ofsdeath gets a haunted sword

Pris curtsies, a susuruss of skirts against ice. She lingers in it, eyes downcast, for a beat. It's more than she gives any knight or king who graces her shores. Like any witch, she knows the ritual is less important than intent. And few intents matter more than respect.

When she straightens, there's a small smile on her face. Polite. Hopeful.

"I've been waiting a long time for you."

[fateprotected]

I’ve already got a female to worry about. Her name is the Enterprise.

[fateprotected]

she doesn't mean to be cruel. pris so rarely does. but something about his sheer disbelief tells her she has been. regardless, her face softens, an apology where she thinks the words might be less well-received than the insult.

(can she truly understands what it means to be grounded? not in the slow, relentless way that isn't the end. the literalism with which the stars are her life has its own fears, but this isn't quite one of them.)

"I can understand why you'd say so. but I think...it's not quite so black-and-white."

she won't chalk this all up to her own intervention, after all. she may have helped give voice to the idea, but even with her captains' weights behind her--it's his own merit, in the end. his merit, and their desperation.

the starbase has offered a middle ground, for all he's antsy, restless. here, windows still look onto the darkness of space, the stretch of stars in all directions. here, he can avoid setting his feet on solid ground just a little longer, because he does know: once he does, he'll never again leave.

compared to, well, just about everyone, pris been nothing but pleasant with him, and in acknowledgment of that he makes an ( unsuccessful ) effort not to scoff at her question. he has no doubt she does not intend for it to sting the way it does, has a rare faith that she means to offer some semblance of hope. reassurance. whatever name might be applied to that amorphous emotion that no longer belongs in his vocabulary. ❛ they're not going to send me out on another ship. ❜

he's not sure what she thinks she's heard, or what makes her think for a heartbeat the admiralty would change their tune now, after months. gabriel's not foolish enough to think they believe a word of what he says in psych evals, and he's scarcely been the most cooperative. no, there's no more trust left there.

⤷ ✧ @fateprotected because when I ask hypothetical questions, they are rarely truly hypothetical <3.

[fateprotected]

““i just want to go home” said the astronaut. “so come home” said ground control. ‘‘ｓｏ ｃｏｍｅ ｈｏｍｅ’’ said the voice from the stars.”

— jonny sun (via outer-space-inspirations)

[fateprotected]

it's a shock. to hear her situation put so bluntly, of course--your universe, like it was as simple as a new planet--but more, she can admit, to think that there are versions of the two of them who've never known each other.

it's instinct to reach for the reassurance of their connection. a mistake. pris nearly sways with it, nauseated. she blinks it away. finds she doesn't have it in her to ask. if his hesitation is hurt, it's best avoided. if it's something else, well. it shouldn't hurt her, but she knows how selfishly it would.

"you still came."

there's not an ounce of surprise in her. between care, curiosity, and duty, she'd expect nothing less. still, she's grateful.

"an alternate universe explains....quite a bit." how sick she is so quickly, for one. just how difficult it will be to get back to her own in time, for another.

"I had just hoped for something a little simpler."

❛ my enterprise. ❜ his laugh is wry, but not bitter. an accomplishment, all considered. he hadn't waited months planetside to complete half a mission and surrender his captain's stripes for good. saying it had taken some coming to terms with didn't nearly do it justice. ❛ she never really was that, the way things worked out. ❜

his eyes narrow, two and two snapping together ( belatedly, and he's a damn idiot to not have put it together sooner, when he's pieced all the rest together ) with a conviction he wishes were a little less certain. he'd been better off not considering that it had been — could have been — any other way than this, he with feet firmly grounded and the kid he'd all but stuffed into the uniform off in his place. maybe he'd been willfully blind.

❛ is that why you asked for me? in your universe... ❜ he hesitates over the question, in part unwilling to put words to it and in part wondering, suddenly, if she had known or if he'd just dropped on her unceremoniously the reality of just how far from home she was. ❛ I should've started there, shouldn't I? alternate universes, alternate timelines. I would call it a theory, but I'm pretty darn certain. ❜ dead certain, really, but maybe he's got enough pride left to hedge his bets — just a bit.

[fateprotected]

[fateprotected]

i love you fictional vehicles that become a main character in the story by extension, i love you ships with iconic names that turn into a home for the characters, i love you humanized modes of transportation with imagined personality quirks, i love you sapient starships with real personality quirks, i love you inherent human ability to emotionally bond with literally anything

[fateprotected]

You are not immune to Starfleet propaganda

[fateprotected]

for now, there's a lull between moments of fever. long periods of lucidity. the shock has worn off. it won't last. still, for now she can luxuriate in fresh air and sunshine with enough presence of mind to try and find a way home.

(even if she could run, as they seem to worry. her best chances are right here. with those who already know what she is and can be read in on the rest.)

she can't claim to know this christopher pike--but she knows her own. knows what he looks like in pain. so she settles beside him with a grateful smile. smooths the line of her skirt. a distraction that only grants her seconds.

he feels wrong. or maybe it's the silence, the lack of connection aching like a phantom limb. even if it weren't for the physical differences, she couldn't mistake them. not in her right mind.

"no." there's resignation in her voice. she tries not to let it be more. he's come all this way, still, when she asked. "and I'm not your enterprise."

they ought to have looped him in sooner. then again, considering the circumstances, they had plenty of cause to suspect that doing so might have presented a security risk. ( he has already been a security risk to earth once; it is not a circumstance any of them wish to repeat. ) he has context they lack, however. context classified high enough up the chain that, in addition to enterprise’s captain and first officer, only the admiralty knows.

context does not give him answers, not truly. not to who she is, or how she got here, or why she would ask for him. he can, however, account for how it is that a complete stranger to him and of whom no record seems to exist could ask for him by name, serial number, and personal details that only someone who knew him — and knew him well — could possibly know. he can account, too, for why those details go awry after a certain, notable marker.

his pace is slow, as it always is these days, though he would call it instead measured, tone carrying a wry dose of self-deprecating humor. and as he nears he waves away the guards who stand watch to either side of her, as if they expect her to run. he’d ordered them to bring her here, to the park, where gray walls cannot surround and press in upon them. where security, unwilling to allow an admiral to converse alone with her, can keep careful eye from a distance out of earshot.

a semblance of space, of freedom, and nothing more.

❛ I’d introduce myself, but they tell me you’ve been asking for me. I guess that means you already know who I am. ❜ there’s no pleasant way to break the reality of her situation to her, and he sighs before continuing, ❛ but I should tell you that I’m not the christopher pike you know. ❜

he owes her an explanation for that, but first he gestures her over to a nearby bench. he shouldn’t have walked all this way, but stubborn pride won out, as it always seemed to. he’ll add this, as he always does, to his list of chiding, ‘remember this next time you consider walking’ thoughts — the list he somehow never returns to when it matters most, only when it’s too late.

⤷ ✧ @fateprotected ( only a month late… )

[fateprotected]

@paramounticebound

a ballerina who's only sexually attracted to people she has a connection with... call her a demi-plié

[fateprotected]

Rebecca Solnit, The Faraway Nearby

[fateprotected]

I love u mirror selves I love u doppelgangers I love u parallel versions I love u physical manifestations of alter egos I love u shadow versions I love u clones I love u dark but not inherently evil reflections of the self

[fateprotected]

Fate. Protects fools, little children and ships named Enterprise.

[fateprotected]

speaking of stubborn...not that Pris had expected anything less. even among captains, batel is known for her tenacity. it's admirable. she'd appreciate it, under different circumstances.

as it is, she knows when she's being herded. both verbally and physically. and she's...curious. maybe more than she has any right to be, but it's always fascinating to meet someone who's been so close to her captain. so instead of pulling her credentials, she smiles. keeps most of the mischief out of it.

"I have. you just don't believe me, which is reasonable."

❛ probably. we captains are a stubborn lot. ❜ others might be more likely to avoid embroiling themselves in a situation with no harm done and that, frankly, does not concern them. maybe marie would, too, if she had anything she needed to be doing. even brief stops in space dock, however, leave her with little but paperwork and meetings. and late night wandering, it seemed.

❛ which, ❜ she adds even as she turns to lead the way, tone light as if it's the most trivial thing in the world, ❛ is also why I haven't forgotten that you haven't really told me why you're here. ❜

[fateprotected]

even their connection doesn't entirely help her understand. through their joined hands, his emotions are tumultuous. clinging and viscous. christopher pike can hardly be described as unstable. but it's clear what happened on talos has shaken him more than he wants to let on.

"okay. of course."

she'd stay for much less. she'd stay on just his word. so pris starts guiding them towards the couch, sitting without breaking away from his grip. the unsteadiness she feels between them is still invisible in his starfleet-perfect bearing. despite the shared meal, she's not sure she's really seen him relax since returning.

"take all the time you need."

he knows better, has been her captain for long enough to know he cannot fool her. to know, too, that he doesn't have to. still, it's reflex, the way he musters a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, the way he insists deceptively convincingly, ❛ yes, of course. ❜ there's no 'of course' to it, after past mission. he's finished his report, filed it, though he left plenty unsaid. he had said plenty, though, to ensure that starfleet never sends another ship to the talos system.

the sense of unreality, he suspects, comes only half from the talosians' abilities, illusions which wove themselves all too convincingly. none of what happened on the planet's surface truly feels real.

❛ I just... ❜ but there's no excuses he can offer, nothing he can say to pass this off as perfectly normal. if all were perfectly normal, he'd have let her leave with the others. ❛ need a moment. ❜ it's not truly an explanation, and if it is, its a pathetic one, nothing that could possibly convince her everything's fine even if he had a chance of it to begin with. his fingers tighten on hers for a moment, before he forces himself to relax.

[fateprotected]

Send "You remember me?" for my Muse to react to seeing yours after a very long time.

Send "Of course, I remember you, but do you remember me?" for the reverse.