asgardchrysalis | ( open ) practice makes perfect

Entry tags:

( open ) practice makes perfect

Who: Jim Kirk & YOU!
What: Jim wants to learn how to wield a sword (and some other weapons)
When: Now-ish
Where: Temjask arena
Rating: PG-13 for possible mild violence, fighting and minor injuries

While not unfamiliar with using weapons, it's fair to say that Jim's well out of his depth here. Barring the use of magic, there's nothing even remotely resembling energy weapons, and even projectile weapons are nonexistent. He's checked out what's on offer but some of them he doesn't even recognize, and those that he does...

Well, he can't really remember ever holding a sword in his life, for instance. But he's definitely curious. He goes to the arena to train, keep his body in shape and possibly look for someone willing to spar with him, and after he's worked up some sweat, he heads out to where all those weapons are on display, looking over the selection with interest.

He picks up a sword at one point, a smaller and lighter-looking one, but not knowing what to do with it, he'll put it back down unless someone approaches or cuts in. He also walks around the training grounds, watching others use those same weapons, admiring from a safe distance at how skilled they are.

A more elaborate or showy move will no doubt get an impressed sound from him, and he tips his head at them. "That was brilliant. You're really good."

Not that he'd know the first thing, it just looked impressive.

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There was something of a perfectionist in him. Ariadne could appreciate that. "Better," she said, giving him an encouraging nod. "But make sure everything is loose. Not just the shoulders. The best way to think of it is throwing."

She took half a step back and mimed throwing a ball. "The movement needs to be fluid all the way. Shoulder to elbow to wrist."

Ariadne could make it look like a dance. What she lacked in raw power, she had to make up for in form, in grace, in every other advantage she could squeeze out of her slender, delicate, bird-like body. And it was bird-like, no matter what color her skin happened to be.

"Do this," she said, repeating the movement over and over again, like a ballerina doing drills.

Jim let out a soft chuckle at that, smile sharp and eyes alight as he answered with a teasing tone to it. "Trust me, everything about me is loose."

He couldn't help himself, okay. Too good an opportunity to pass up on a bit of harmless flirting. He winked at her, but then turned his attention back to the exercise. Her motions made sense, so he mirrored them, over and over, the movement of his arm more fluid the longer he practiced.

"I know what this reminds me of now," he said, grinning. "Baseball."

She certainly hoped everything about him wasn't loose. After all, his bones needed to support the structure of his muscles and tendons. And she was about to point out as much when he surprised her with that wink.

...was there something in his eye? Was he trying to send some kind of message?

What a peculiarly confusing Human.

"What's baseball?" she asked, reaching into her satchel to pull out a handkerchief, which she offered him.

Yeah, if her knowledge of metaphors was anything to go by, he had a feeling that that particular expression would fly right over her head, just like the last one. But then that was why he decided not to insist much, at least for now.

"It's a sport where I'm from," he explained, accepting the handkerchief. He figured it was to wipe the sweat off his brow, so he did just that. "Well, it used to be a sport. The popularity waned a lot, most people don't even know how it's played anymore. To be honest, I don't know any of the rules either, but I do know there was a player who'd have to throw a ball, really far and really fast, and aim it at a specific spot. Kind of like this."

Apparently his eye was fine. But no matter. The wonderful thing about handkerchiefs was that they could be used to cure all sorts of ails. One of the many clever Human inventions that Ariadne admired greatly.

Although her favorite was bread. She loved bread.

"I wonder if there's any way to find out how it's played," she said, taking the handkerchief back and tucking it into her satchel. "It might be fun to have some games. Everyone here is always so serious all of the time."

Of course, she couldn't blame them. It went with a little kidnapping. But it wasn't doing them much good now, was it?

"Well, there are a few options," he commented with a shrug. "We could ask around, maybe someone here would know the rules. Or we could look through the library."

One never knew what kinds of books they could find there. Maybe there was one about various Earth sports through the ages tucked away in some dark corner.

"If all else fails, we can always create a sport that's similar to it, even if it doesn't have the exact same rules. You'd probably do pretty well at it," he pointed out with a smile.

"That might be fun," she said, with a little laugh in her voice. "Inventing our own sport. We could call it 'Asgard Ball.'" She'd noticed that most team sports seemed to always involve some kind of a ball. "Teams of eight each. That seems like a good number. But nothing involving the horses or the chickens."

Chasing chickens was a lot of fun, but it wasn't fair to the birds, really.

The idea was truly captivating. Strange and alien. But maybe that's where the excitement came from. Ariadne was always up for trying something new.

Unfortunately, the distraction managed to draw her attention away from the very real fact that she'd been in her Human form for nearly ten minutes. Her hold on her new powers was weak to begin with. And without even thinking about it, or meaning to, her body decided to revert back.

Skin the green of the underside of a maple leaf. Hair blue as candy floss. Lips the color of violets. And eyes widening in a suck panic as she realized what she'd done.

"Sounds like you've got a good head start, huh," he commented with a smile. "Should let you come up with the rules all by yourself at this point."

Of course, the most boring part of creating a sport, the way Jim saw it. He was kidding, of course. He'd gladly help out if it came down to it, or they could just play and perfect the rules through experience.

Not that his focus lingered much on that. Her appearance changed rather abruptly and he was a little surprised by it, but her facial features still looked the same, so he was sure he was still talking to the same person.

"That's, uh... you're looking a little different, not sure you realize," he said. By the shocked look on her face, he had a feeling she was well aware. He didn't particularly linger on it, though, and instead lifted the sling to practice swinging it again. "Shapeshifter, I'm guessing? Is this what you really look like, or..."

"No," Ariadne hissed to herself. She curled her hands into fists and pressed them against her chin, squeezing her eyes shut. "No, no, no..." She tried to change back, but she couldn't feel the power any more. It had gone out of her completely, like someone had opened her up and emptied her.

She took half a step back.

Ready to flee, ready to run.

But Jim was...swinging the sling again?

Ariadne opened one eye, then the other. It made no sense at all. He wasn't shouting or afraid. Or worse, turning a weapon on her. Well, all he had was an empty sling. But still. Maybe he was going to strangle her? She took another half step back, the muscles of her legs tense, ready to spring. "I..."

Jim was focused on the exercise, so he didn't immediately notice her panic. He swung the sling in circles a few more times, then threw it in a clean cut across the air, keeping the grip tight but the movement fluid. It looked better now, but without a stone to throw, he had no idea if it was any good.

He was expecting her instructions, but her silence only had him looking over.

"Thought you were gonna help me get this right?" His smile didn't fade entirely, it just waned a bit, and he tilted his head, eyebrows knitting together. "What's wrong?"

"I..."

What did she say? Ariadne had absolutely no precedent for this situation before. Back home, it was easy to stay hidden, for hours, days, weeks at a time, even. And here she was, on her first jaunt, and she'd failed.

Miserably.

Somewhere, in the back of her head, she could hear every warning her mother had ever given her, every threat, every bloody detail of what a Human could do to an exposed Alastrian. Ariadne's childhood had scared her into hiding. But now she had no place to hide.

"...I'm sorry."

He lowered the sling and turned to her, the exercise momentarily forgotten. He knew he hadn't done anything to upset her, so the only logical conclusion was that it had to do with her change in appearance. Given how she'd been so caught off-guard by it, it was easy to guess that she was terrified of someone seeing her like this.

Not that Jim minded in the least. Not that he cared whatsoever that she looked any different.

"That's alright," he brushed off the apology like it wasn't needed. Stepping closer, he handed the sling back to her. "You want to take a break? We can just go for a walk somewhere."

The thing of it was, for all of her mother's warnings, Jim wasn't following the script. And Ariadne didn't quite know what to make of that. Certainly, Princess Amanda had never been offended by her appearance. And she'd gotten on well enough with Josie and Peter. But this was different. This was her own deception unmasked.

And he was acting like he didn't care.

Well, maybe he didn't. But it was going against quite a few Human stereotypes, that was for sure.

"Do you...not care?" she asked, gesturing vaguely to herself.

Jim shrugged at the question, smiling. It definitely had to do with her appearance. He couldn't fault her for hiding behind a mask, if she was used to humans reacting poorly to her real appearance.

"Not really? I mean," he paused, weighing his words and thinking on how to best explain it. "I think you look very pretty, so I care in that sense. But it doesn't really matter to me that you're not human, if that's what you're worried about. I'm... used to it, actually. Living among other species, many of which very different from humans, physically and otherwise."

In her experience, green never equated to 'pretty,' but she allowed herself to finally relax, at least a little bit. He wasn't going to throw the sling at her or try to throttle her or anything like that. Once again, her mother had been wrong about Humans.

More than wrong, really.

She'd always been warned that reverting like that, in front of someone, was a death sentence. Now she knew for sure that was also an exaggeration.

"I always wanted to be a Human," she admitted, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Back home, you would never have known that I'm...not. It's harder here."

The real question she had to wrestle with was how necessary it was.

"It's a little overrated," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Being human, that is. I like being who I am, don't get me wrong, but... I've met amazing people. Their species has never mattered. And I only wish that everyone was equally happy and proud of who they are."

He played with the sling in his hands, sifting through his thoughts before he added.

"And if you ask me, the way you reacted to me just now... you shouldn't want to look human. You shouldn't want to pass off as the very species that dislikes your own that much."

He was more observant than she would have guessed. Ariadne felt the hint of a smile tugging up the corners of her mouth. "Well," she said, "for what it's worth, every species hates mine. Including Humans. It's not the same here. I guess. But it's hard to unlearn a lifetime of lessons."

She gathered her long, rope-like braid in her hands, pulling it over her shoulder, protectively against her chest.

"I don't like lying to people," she said. She was good, of course. The best. Under normal circumstances, anyway. But that wasn't the same as liking it. "Everyone here is just so...nice." She paused. "Except for Lucifer. He seems a little grumpy."

Jim nodded in understanding. "I get that. But for what it's worth, you don't have to worry about that with me."

That much was probably abundantly clear to her by now, but it didn't hurt to really cement that, just so she really believed it.

"Well, you don't have to lie. There are many different people here. If anyone treats you differently because of your appearance, that's their own flaw," he said, his expression shifting into a frown at the name. "There's a guy named Lucifer here?"

Unfortunate name choice, or maybe he was the real deal? They did have gods here, after all. Anything was possible.

"The one trying to charge people money for vodka," she said. It didn't seem like the best business model. Especially when they got pretty much everything their hearts desired, with just a polite request to the gods. "He's kind of cranky."

She gave a dismissive shrug. Lucifer was a puzzle to be solved another day. At the moment, she was enjoying what she was uncovering with Jim.

"I can't begin to explain how much of a relief it is...that people don't look at me like some filthy thing." Or worse, a potential profit. But just because people weren't hunting her down for her hair didn't mean she was ready to reveal that part of her heritage.

Lucifer might go after it next.

"Haven't met him yet," he wrinkled his nose a little. "Sounds like I might be better off. I don't like cranky people."

What a load of crap, coming from the guy whose best friend was probably the crankiest, most pessimistic man to exist in their quadrant of the galaxy. It did get annoying at times, but he loved that about Bones.

"It's unfortunate that anyone ever did," he commented. "You know, you remind me of a race we have where I'm from, called the Orion. They're green skinned too, although their hair is usually black. There are a few redheads but they're incredibly unusual. I... actually, I went to the Academy with an Orion girl with a lovely smile and very bright red hair. She was quite... unique."

And Jim probably deserved a punch in the face for the way he'd treated her back then. Thankfully they'd talked it out years later, but still.

"Orion," she repeated, careful to pronounce it correctly. "You know, you're the second person to tell me he's met a green race before. Peter Quill has too. He calls them 'Zen-Whoberis,' I think." Actually, he'd mentioned being in a courtship with one, which seemed like a wild notion to Ariadne. Wild, but not unheard of. She'd known Elves and Humans and Darucs to occasionally intermingle with each other. Never with her kind, of course. But with each other, anyway.

But while she'd mistakenly hoped that Zen-Whoberis was just another name for Alastrian, she knew better about these Orions. No Alastrian had black hair. It was utterly unthinkable, actually.

She touched her fingertips to her chest, leaning in slightly. "My people are Alastrians," she said. "We all have green skin but...many different hair colors."

The subject of hair was tricky. So Ariadne abandoned it quickly.

"Some of us are born with the ability to appear Human. I was. Until I came here. And I only just got it back...I thought I was stronger..."

"Well, there's not just one race," he pointed out. "But there are a few Orion officers in Starfleet, so I interact with them more often."

Jim nodded, smiling fondly at the mention of Peter. "Yes, he mentioned that to me too. His badass girlfriend is, in fact, one of them. I've been involved with Orions before too, so you see, not all of us really care much about that."

His eyes flickered to her hair in understanding. It was very unusual, Jim could remember maybe one species who had natural hair the same color as hers, so he could only guess that other Alastrians had hair with colors just as unusual.

"I think your powers here might work a little differently," he said. "Nevertheless, you won't need to look human all the time here, so maybe that's not much of an issue?"

"I would never have thought I could live that way," she said. "Out in the open."

But she liked the idea. She loved it, in fact. Whether or not she was ready for it would require some time. But Jim had definitely encouraged the seed growing in her mind. And there was no way to express--in any language--how grateful she was.

So she went for the next best thing. She surged forward suddenly and gave him a giant hug.

Well, as giant a hug as a five foot two waif was capable of giving.

"Brand new world out there," he shrugged, smiling at her.

The way he saw it, everyone had the right to live out in the open, should they want to. It didn't feel right to him that anyone should hide away just because of their race, or their appearance, and he was glad that he was the one to show her that here, she didn't have to worry about that.

It felt like he'd soothed some of her concerns, which made him feel pretty happy, but he was still surprised by the hug. However, he was as quick as ever to adapt, all six feet of him more than willing to lean down to meet her halfway, his arms resting around her as he let out a soft laugh.

"Well, you're friendly," he commented, a hint of teasing to his tone.

Unfortunately, Ariadne was a little tone deaf when it came to teasing. Humans were wonderful creatures, but their use of language was completely confounding. She stepped out of the hug and looked up at him, puzzled. "Well, I try to be."

It was much easier to be friendly than to be scowly. In her opinion, anyway.

She only hoped she hadn't broken some taboo.

( open ) practice makes perfect

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