#logicavitium

[starlightsulu]

taming of the wolf // @logicavitium​

“ Don’t move . ” 

It’s rare for him to make an order , with voice low and that little bit gruff ( no threat there ) ; and exhaustion clawing at it’s clarity . A moment then, as the lieutenant steals space between them. --- feet forward between the other’s. Though this is a common thing , there’s something different this time , where steps don’t offer the usual sharpened strike to pierce at guard ( more a fumble , a softened nudge ) . 

This time , much like water , there is that ease in flow --- a softness unspoken , a softness unseen --- as face rests against the commander’s neck . And just before skin contact’s met , there it is in his eyes , an anger flickering ; directed at oneself --- frustration in action that betrays all who he’s built himself to be . 

Weakness , his mind screams . One that he cannot stop .  

[starlightsulu]

🎄

under the mistletoe! // selectively smooching

It’s a kind of kiss where there’s teeth ; the taste of the other’s victory in a puff of the breath --- a laugh that says he wins, again. another game played , where the Vulcan is both an easy target and seemingly willing participant. It was too easy, after all, to press his back against the wall , to tease the space between them, keep him still. 

It’s the kind of kiss that’s dangerous, that’s invasive, and that Hikaru Sulu knows requires payment in the future; for a tongue darts with the small burst of lips and the tiniest spill of green. 

A chuckle then, rumbles against spock’s chest where he presses that little bit more against the other. One second, two, three, then four before he pulls away, tilts his head back, and grins. “ See, Commander, sometimes I do play by other people’s rules. ” 

Particularly if they bother you just that little bit. 

“ Happy holidays. ”

[starlightsulu]

"It is as it was meant to be-- the two of us against all others."

coldplay // selectively accepting

A hum. 

“ --- so, is it that things are going according to plan? ” 

His eyes remain on the chess board between them, focus hard as hand hovers above a piece ( a knight he lifts and places forward ; he takes the offense this time ). It’s a game the Vulcan excels at, far more than he ---too many rules , too many boundaries. It’s unlike the board he’s used to, all mismatched pieces and mismatched rules : go , shogi , chess and checkers ( everyone after all, plays by different rules --- only fitting really to comply ).  

The same hand returns, fingers tapping against his lips before he leans back into the chair, legs stretching forward. Sulu’s knees bump the table with intent, they cause a wobble that catches the commander’s attention, makes those Vulcan brows lift ( perfect ). The pilot feigns apology with a lazy shrug and wicked curl of lips. Not that Spock would ever believe it.  

Truth be told , things have moved too fast --- out of his control, his irritation well hidden by fractured mask. Too vicious he had been these last few days --- with questions asked, and questions answered with a wickedness laid thick: he was bored. A half truth ; an easy lie. Time short, allies low and suspicions raised, not ideal. He had to be careful. Even more so. 

“ --- or do they know? ”

[starlightsulu]

"You belong to me. And I, to you."

coldplay // selectively accepting

          “ --- you’re making your point. loud and clear. ” a puff of breath punched from his lungs as the hand keeps him still and firm against the wall. still, he has that look on his face, and still he has that grin. satisfaction, and a victory where he’s received reaction. 

( perhaps he had teased that little bit too much. ) 

the vulcan looks to know, a faint glimmer of frustration in features that settle --- after of course, that twinge where eyes narrow just that little bit , and a hand loosens its grip against his shirt. always a game, he supposes the other thinks --- always a small test. 

distance and irritation; easy to read. he doesn’t look too pleased. 

“ oh, come now commander, you know i prefer it a little rough. ” the pilot says, teeth showing as he grins and takes the space the other so freely gives. ( his hand is quick to dash to grab the other’s --- seize attention and show that vicious affection ). “ wouldn’t be fun, otherwise. ”

[starlightsulu]

"I promise you that I will learn from my mistakes."

coldplay // selectively accepting

rare is it for the vulcan to make mistakes --- part of the reason why sulu found him such a capable and formidable ally. but, god, when an error was made, its order of magnitude was phenomenal. the half human side , some would blame with sharp smiles and pointed expression. their on their faces, feigned disappointment where rage had overtaken oneself, where he had acted, and a vital piece of information had been exposed. 

adds complexity to his plan, where the pilot now must find reason for his response. 

his own methods and his own masks are not flawless. most suspicious outright, non-believers of anything said --- too suspicious. it had worked in his favour, most times ( he had his guard , and a poker face hard to read ). but this? this touched too close. 

he’ll find his reason later. for now, he sits, intruding space with bloodied hands --- a gift, this festive season ( perhaps that should be it ; something careless, something stupid ).  it’s proof of pledge, of allegiance and of promise. though there may be mistakes, the wolf won’t falter. 

a devil’s grin, and playful words. 

“ and i promise you, i will clean up after them. ”

[starlightsulu]

“How did you get this?”

your muse finds a scar // no longer accepting

“ has curiosity ever killed a vulcan? ” 

he speaks smoothly ; words having met whetstone --- sharpened and with intent. the answer, after all, already dances against his tongue --- a harsh truth where mere ants displayed their selfishness, greed and ferocity among those who perhaps once considered peace . who perhaps once would offer more. 

not now --- too late. the door now shut with bloodied hands of the manics of men who now spread their poison ; a miasma the worlds would never be rid of. ah, how he loathes what they’ve become. 

the pilot’s breath exhaled , pleasantness in his sigh as familiar fingers touch the scar. it appears that he does not withdraw despite the jab to remind him just how little they cared. eyes on spock, lips crooked in their curve. a twitch of his brows, as if to bait. 

hm? no? nothing? ah well. 

he is harsh ; this he knows --- too much, perhaps. but vigilance is necessary to survive. 

bared flesh and tangled limbs , an ache blooms with motion ; hands often gentle had been rougher this time. his fault. ( and his fault again , should he have his way ). he’s relaxed, watches with his own curiosity at fingers brush along the imperfections with a need  to know  ; to be told the story behind the marks. 

“ a bat’leth is a merciless tool, ” he says with nonchalance. “ it murdered two that day. ” he still remembers her , burns as much as the fire that swallowed him. “ at least , when i was introduced. ” he fills his chest with air, before he releases --- a puff. “ i’m curious, sometimes, ” he continues as eyes focus on the ceiling. “ what would have happened if i never woke? ”

a hum. 

“ ah, well. ”

[ak-spra-moved-blog]

Panic, Enthusiasm

[Send me an emotion and I’ll describe how my Muse expressesit non-verbally]

Panic

Panic attacks have happened, and they flare up again after big events (destruction of Vulcan, loss of Spock Prime resulting in a potential career change, starting Starfleet Academy and finding himself incredibly alone). But beyond that, panic itself is not something he often comes across.

Eyes wide, breathing shallow. Speech fast and sentences choppy, if he is in a position to speak at all. But do not mistake his outward symptoms for lack of thinking. His mind runs faster, trying to find a way out of this situation as soon as possible. It is never fight or flight. Only ever fight.

Enthusiasm 

His speech is more animated, owing to the fact that hespeaks more in general. His eyes arebrighter, body language more open. it could even be said that he becomes more human.

If he’s working, he’ll tend to forego breaks, food, sleep.Vulcans can go far longer without, anyway. He’s more interested in the subjectmatter, and will gladly tell anyone about it, should they ask.

At times, his enthusiasm crowds and bubbles over, he mayresort to gesturing with his hands onparticular things, may have to use Vulcan phrases if he’s unable to find thewords he needs, and for once, he won’t be embarrassed about it.

[onlyknowwhaticando]

@logicavitium

How exactly they’d ended up in a prison cell was still something of a blur to Jim, given the sedative he’d been slipped. It was all but out of his system now, remaining only in what amounted to a lack of filter. Which was why he’d been very careful to only speak the necessary words to Spock as they sought an escape route. 

But now they were seated on their cots, all efforts having failed. Jim scuffed his bare foot - their shoes had been taken, and their tunics, leaving them in just their blacks - against the cool stone floor, trying not to let the silence get to him. Or Spock’s presence. He still didn’t know why someone who so clearly disliked him had agreed to be his XO. 

“So, tell me, Spock. Given how much you still hate my guts, what made you decided to sign on with me?” he asked, before he could bite back the words. But he didn’t really regret them. He wanted to know. Did Spock just want to be there if Jim faceplanted or something?