#c:kirk

[little-earthquakes-rp]

if they had a kid: Kirk&Lennon

Accepted: @kirk-everhart

Name: December ‘Emme’

Gender: Female

General appearance: Emme is petite and stands 5′4 but will swear with her last dying breath she is 5′5. Long honey blonde hair which she keeps to midway down her back and sky blue eyes wide set like her mother.

Personality: Tenacious and bubbly she doesn’t respond well to being told no. Emme’s bark is slightly worse than her bite, but make no mistake she’s a domino. Even had a bit of a reputation in grade school for beating up boys, but she’d tell you they had it coming. 

Special Talents: Started playing the violin as a child and as an adult sits first chair in the community orchestra. While she loves music motocross hold her heart. Encouraged by her father she developed a passion for the sport as a kid and now competes nationally. Eventually, she hopes to open her own track and bike shop.   

Who they like better: Emme has a tighter bond with Kirk because they share hobbies like mechanics and motocross. She sees Lennon as being kind of boring but is still quite close to her mom. It’s safe to say though, she has Kirk wrapped around her finger and more time than not can get a yes out of him before her mother.  

Who they take after more: Physically no one argues that she resembles Lennon strongly, and while most people would assume she was more like her father; however, the drive and stubbornness is 100% her mother.  If anything they two ladies are too much alike. 

Personal headcanon: In third grade, she traded her violin for an X-men comic book, a bag of skittles, and a turtle. Her parents weren’t happy about it and made her return them all to the friend's house so she could bring back the instrument. She was grounded for a month. During the retelling of the story, she embellishes and refers to it as ‘her summer of imprisonment.’ 

Face Claim: Madeline Arthur 

Bonus: She secretly loves how her parents met and fell in love and will periodically ask them to tell her the story.

[hope-augmented]

Flicking the cryotube with his fingers, he crouched down and pressed a button. "What does this do, anyway?" And then came the red, flashing lights.

The thin layer of plexiglass that separated a frozen Khan from the waking world slowly rose. The heat within the small compartment rose. Chemicals dripped away from Khan’s skin, leaving him next to naked as his body awoke. || You came to the wrong neighborhood… unless you’re about that shirtless Khan life. 

[hope-augmented]

Jim jerked a thumb to the iced up, sleeping Khan and asked, "Is it just me, or is he too hot for this thing?"

Khan remains asleep, eyelids fluttering. The ice seems to have thinned a fraction. How ominous. || Bitch, I might be. 

[hope-augmented]

In The Fishbowl (Kirk/Khan, closed; reposted because Tumblr is cattywampus.)

Feverish and drenched in chemicals, Khan dreamt of many things. He dreamt of Earth and the way things were before the Eugenics Wars. He dreamt of Spock’s coup de grace, the way his heart sunk as he realized every single torpedo had been emptied of its precious cargo. He dreamt of his crew and the perseverance they’d all shared in. Oddly enough, Khan dreamt of James T. Kirk, a man he’d thought he’d had enough of for several millennia.

In one episode, he and Kirk fought hand to hand until they’d fallen to the ground, at which time they became a writhing mass of limbs, wanton and angry and indiscriminate. In another, they spiraled towards the Vengeance, skirting past debris against the backdrop of deep space. In the final dream, Kirk was no more than a playground bully, demanding not his lunch money, but his supplication, his very affection. The young Kirk crushed their lips together, engulfing Khan in unfamiliar sensations. His stomach turned, sickened and confused by the prospected of such completion…

Khan awoke with a start. The shock of being awake was enough to send him clambering onto the floor of the storage bay, retching up the meager surfeit of chemicals suspended in his stomach. Around him, the bodies of the seventy-two others remained asleep. He stared around in disbelief, dismayed that he was yet again left completely and utterly alone. Not a single cryo-tube had opened to release its contents- only his. 

As his mind slowly ramped up, the augment made a hasty exit before his captors could sense something was amiss. Khan did not have time to question the circumstances of his timely awakening. Instead, he navigated through the corridors of the automated Starfleet archive. The structure was perhaps eight floors deep, with a logistical center at ground-level. Once he reached the top, Khan slipped out a utility dock and headed for the nearest transit station. 

According to the news, it had been a little over a month since Khan had crashed the Vengeance in the San Francisco Bay. Today, none other than Admiral James T. Kirk would be reinstating the Enterprise, which was set to launch for five years of exploration the very next day. Unthinking, Khan went with his instinct- he needed to find Kirk. He sought answers. One did not simply dream of a half-stranger during a month of cryo.

The solution was simple. While all of Starfleet’s gaze was turned toward the reinstatement, Khan stowed away on the Enterprise by means of an equipment shuttle. He stayed out of the sight of signature detectors. Once the ship had launched into warp, the augment was free to roam the tunnels and viaducts as he pleased. Every so often, he committed a minor damage to the ship’s systems, as if to say, “Hello, Kirk. I’m here.” 

It took the crew three and a half weeks of “minor systematic failures” to realize that a more nefarious force was at work within their ship. It took another three days before Kirk and several of his best found him. Khan did not go down without a fight. He killed no one, instead opting to fracture necks or femurs. For Kirk, he saved a broken wrist, administered with a gleaming smile. The last thing he could recall was the triumph that bloomed in his gut as the captain winced, stepping back as Spock stepped in to silence Khan with a death grip. 

Khan awoke slowly, his spine aching from the shock of the Vulcan’s nerve pinch. His eyelids fluttered open. This space was… incredibly familiar. With some effort, the man rolled onto his side. He scoffed. “Damn.” It was the Enterprise’s holding chamber. Just beyond the glass, the man responsible for this warm welcome had been pacing the length of the prison bay. Khan rose to his feet, but did not speak.