Jul. 3rd, 2017

boldygoing: (Disbelief)
With the restrictions on his food intake finally lifted, and with months to go until the Enterprise is ready to fly again, Jim Kirk has had all the more reasons to visit the Nexus and explore, particularly the markets. Whether it's finding interesting otherworldly seedlings for Sulu, tracking down a source of authentic Vulcan kreyla for Spock, or bringing home volumes of Russian literature for Chekov, there's always something to bring back for somebody.

Jim's been warned about LOLs before. Both through the brochure he picked up the first time he arrived here, and by some Nexus veterans, namely Hunter and Samus. But in the months since he's been visiting the multiverse, he's still never seen the phenomenon, not even once.

And so it's easy to forget for a moment that he has to be cautious.

He's discovered a Jewish cafe on one corner of the commercial district that's offering free samples to passersby, and it's been ages since he's had real, hand-made vorschmack on rye. So he doesn't think twice before accepting one of the samples on offer, and there's nothing to indicate that there's anything in it other than the usual bread, fish, and other typical ingredients he'd expect. At least, not until the woman running the sample cart asks him how he likes it.

Jim fully intends on simply complimenting her on the flavor of the food, but what comes out instead is, "It's good but not as good as my Grandma Ruth used to make." He blinks in confusion. "I don't know why I just said that. I wasn't going to tell you that." And again... he says more than he intended.

"Oh dear," the woman says, looking mournfully at the sample tray. "I used the wrong seasoning again. Sorry about that." And then she whisks the tray away, vanishing into the depths of the cafe with no explanation or any indication that she plans to return.

And only now does Jim remember the warnings he was given.

"Oh shit. This is not good." He doesn't know what the hell it's done to him, aside from making him chattier than he intended to be, but he doesn't want to go home like this. Especially not when he can't be certain there won't be more coming. And there's only one person he knows he can go to for help.

Jim calls up the coordinates for Hunter's apartment, hurrying to get his ass over there, muttering to himself under his breath.

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James Tiberius Kirk

March 2021

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