ximilialog | OPEN // december catch-all log

[ Despite Jim's best attempts at a sleep schedule, some nights he just can't make himself fall asleep. Some days he can't focus on anything either, too much pent-up energy with nowhere to go when he has so little do keep him busy at times.

A message will ring out across the Orbers' earpieces, quick and simple. ]

Looking for sparring partners. Training room, right now. No weapons.

[ Plain and simple, really. Jim doesn't really care how strong they might be, or if they have special powers. They can just tweak the details. He might not even mind being roughed up some. ]

（ the... festivities have resulted in him spending rather more time in his single quarters than usual — eclipsing an already significant tendency towards solitude. he has only emerged for training and food, and even that is probably not done as often as mccoy would prefer given the censure about his eating habits.

when the call goes out, he is washing his breakfast dishes in the kitchen, and he pauses to send a word of acceptance back and a rough time frame, as well as a brief physical description so the man knows who he's meeting. it's the one activity he can abide no matter the time or opponent — they all need to stay combat-ready for their next mission.

(no name, though. his username is simply the kanji for 'crimson', and he does not elaborate on that.)

he arrives almost eerily in line with his prediction, and when one of the gathered people shows recognition towards him, he heads that way. he's dressed very plainly, long hair drawn back in a messy bun at the nape of his neck. when he reaches jim, he gives him a respectful nod. ）

Are you what most consider to be 'baseline' human?

（ the best conversation starter. he's obviously a sociable guy, brimming with charisma and easy familiarity. ）

[ Jim absolutely doesn't mind the curt approach. His own message had been short and to the point, and even getting a message back just to let him know he'd be dropping by and what he'd look like is already more than he expected. One doesn't send out a message like that in the wee hours of the night hoping for deep, meaningful conversations.

He wasn't particular about details, and isn't even now, which is why he doesn't ask for a name just yet. He waves a hand at the guy once he comes in, offering a nod of his own in greeting, lips curling at the question. ]

Ah. Yes, average human. I know some hand-to-hand and mixed martial arts, but that's about it.

[ An important question to ask, something Jim forgot about, but is glad his opponent remembered to. ]

I'm guessing you aren't, if you're asking.

[ Fine by him, honestly. He wants to burn off energy, even if it means getting thrown around some. ]

No.

（ but it does not trouble him, to have opponents who are otherwise. everyone has something to teach, whether they are aware of the value in it or not. ）

I am a fire user, and am considerably faster and stronger than a baseline human.

（ it's the same line he's given most people when asked, though it paints an underwhelming vision of the skills he holds in reserve. #justspythings. ）

If that does not dissuade you, I am capable of operating within the parameters of your limitations.

（ not everyone is comfortable with extranormal abilities — and he takes no issue with respecting that. ）

[ Jim nods, taking all that in for a moment, considering. ]

I've often sparred with someone whose species is much faster and stronger than a Human, as well. I don't know if I can handle your abilities in full, but we can try as we go, figure it out.

[ He's certainly not averse to it, and no, it doesn't dissuade him at all, evidently. ]

How about I let you know if it gets to be too much?

[ He wants this to be intense and challenging, but it's still just sparring. He doesn't want to end up in the infirmary or anything like that. ]

That is acceptable. I will allow you to lead the attack and will adapt as necessary.

（ he has a water bottle that he goes to set down on one of the benches alongside the wall, and then he returns to the mat opposite jim. he gives him a short, polite bow and then lapses into the easy posture of a lifelong martial artist, awaiting that initial move. ）

[ Jim takes a bow as well, then watches Itachi's stance before mirroring it somewhat. It's always tricky, being the one leading the attack, it tends to leave you more vulnerable and in a more revealing position too.

That said, he's not too worried about Itachi reading his fighting style, in part because if he has one, it's probably just chaotic, but mostly because this is a sparring match, not a serious fight. So after a moment of consideration, he moves forward for an initial strike, a precise and calculated aim of his hand against Itachi's shoulder. ]

（ he allows the blow, gauging the strength and speed behind it. he could stand solidly against it if he so chose, but instead he lets it push him back, flowing with the action rather than attempting to disrupt it.

he means to get the man's measure, but that hardly means being nonreactive — as he moves with the impact, he reaches for jim's forearm and hip, a move that is solidly taijutsu, and meant to flip him down onto the mat. he does not do it so swiftly as to overwhelm the man, but by that first strike he is perhaps as modest about his talents as itachi is about his own, though they are operating on separate scales of scope. ）

[ They're definitely operating on entirely different levels of skill, strength and experience, but Jim is well aware of that, having been forewarned by the guy of his abilities. Nevertheless, he can appreciate this moment for what it is: both of them holding back, trying to get a read on the other.

Jim recognizes the move, at least. He has a varied crew, with different specialties when it comes to close quarters combat, so he's gotten to try a bit of everything, without ever really specializing in any of them. His own style tends to be more chaotic, though; fluid, that's for sure, and his reflexes are quick, but there's no particular style that Itachi could pinpoint it as. He lets himself get moved with the hold, then at the last moment he leaps up and grabs Itachi by the front of the shirt, intent on using the momentum of his leap to bring them both down and flip them over once on the floor. ]

（ as before, he lets it happen — accepting the drag down to the floor and the resultant flip for what it is, the jarring thump against the mat drives some of the air from his lungs. it is... both different and difficult, though not impossible, to allow others in this position of power over him without immediate and violent retaliation. instinct wars with tolerant patience, and the fingers of his right hand flex faintly against the floor as the spar lulls to give them both their breath.

it is only a heartbeat. then he twists his hips, aims an open palm strike at the man's center mass. should it connect, he plans to use the ensuing disorientation to grapple them into a mirror image of their current position. ）

[ He's going into more unknown territory now, and while he knows that this guy's not just going to take the hit quietly, it's still a mystery what's to come next. Which is to say, Jim isn't ready for it when that palm hits him at the center of his chest, knocking the air right out of his lungs with enough strength that he's left dizzy and disoriented for a moment.

It's all the time Itachi needs to turn them over, Jim's back hitting the floor with a deaf thud and a groan from him. His reaction is delayed because of that hit, which is why, even though he aims his hand at Itachi's shoulder to get him off, it's probably going to be very easy to avoid it. ]

（ kirk still attempts retaliation for the shift, for the shock — he has good instincts, even if he becomes... imprecise after the damage.

(perhaps, itachi acknowledges, he hit him a touch too hard.)

he knocks the man's hand up before it makes connection, studies him a moment and then rises with deft grace from across the man's hips. grappling is still a form of sparring, but it is not his favourite, and they will be better served when they are both back on their feet.

once standing, he offers kirk a hand up. ）

You have a very interesting style.

（ chaotic, but not without discipline. ）

[ Maybe the hit was harder than necessary, but Jim doesn't bring that up, nor will he complain about it. It's not like he broke anything, and when he gets back up to his feet, he still manages to do so without folding over or collapsing back onto the floor. ]

Thanks.

[ He grins faintly, pleased and a little amused by the assessment. 'Interesting' is one way of putting it, and not the first time he's heard it either. ]

Come on. I think I can still take a few more blows like that.

[ He raises his arms again, ready to continue. ]

（ dryly, ）

I will adjust my force accordingly.

（ 'interesting'. chaotic. what is star trek if not live action shounen anime redoubled??? he even looks faintly like naruto smh.

itachi doesn't give the man too much time to recover, however, before he's leading the attack this round — he telegraphs intent to move with an obvious shift of his feet against the mat, and then lunges in.

the strength he tempers. as promised, the next blow he aims at kirk has less power behind it than the previous one, delivered in a scything kick to his midsection. ）

[ At least he's not as annoying as Naruto... he doesn't even know who Naruto is. Okay that's a lie, Erik's a big anime nerd and he's probably told him about Naruto at this point. Anyway.

It's not like Jim would even be focusing on that, and he certainly doesn't know enough to even recognize Itachi by name or appearance. Right now he's more interested in the sparring, and once Itachi makes his move, he adapts accordingly. The kick is swift, but relatively easier for him to deflect, as his feet dance on the mat and he turns sideways, both hands holding up to take the brunt of the kick, pushing Itachi's leg back out and away from him. He follows it quickly with his bent elbow aimed at Itachi's stomach, in his case putting a bit more force to it since he's starting to realize his opponent can take it better than him. ]

（ rather than block, he steps into the blow, taking it before the full strength and extension of his arm. the impact doesn't register as pain, but he finds himself assessing potential damage just the same. habitual.

at the same time, he throws a second kick towards his opponent's thigh. he'd aim for the knee if this were a true fight, but instead he simply wants to stagger him and force him to leave himself open for another blow to the core. ）

[ It works just as Itachi wants, and it comes fast enough that, even when Jim realizes it's happening, he's still not quick enough to avoid the blow. It connects with his thigh just hard enough to make him buckle with the blow, not going down but still losing some of his balance.

The hit to his middle, however, does the trick. He's pushed back with a groan, stumbling back and falling on his ass, though at least he only stays down for a second or so, before he's scrambling back up to his feet, immediately going for a succession of open-handed hits at Itachi's chest and shoulders. ]

（ an opponent who does not yield... it does not drive him in the same way it drives kisame, who hungers always for such things and feels alive when the scent of blood is in the air. it is simply something he respects. kirk may be outmatched and well aware of it, but he is not resentful — perhaps the opposite.

he surprises himself to realize he is having a good time.

he does not smile, but there is amusement at play in his red, red eyes as he blocks those blows in turn, methodic and patient. one gets through, an impact to the solar plexus and forces him a step back.

the sharingan has seen enough of the man's fighting, and he does adjust. he does not become a mirror — he would have to explain how that is possible, and he has told no one here about his bloodline limit — but kirk may find that when itachi strikes at him now it is done with the exact determinant strength and speed behind it as what he's dishing out himself, manifested in a different style.

it is in this way that they carry on a time, exchanging hits with ease that becomes practiced as they learn each other's styles and adapt as a matter of course. there's almost a component of play to it, more than just strictly sparring — it's fun, to engage with someone in this way.

it is his own ruined stamina in the end that fails. the clench of the diaphragm that warns him he has pushed himself too hard, too long, the coppery taste of blood at the back of his throat that he swallows down. he is not breathing hard or heavily, but he does hold up a hand to indicate that jim ought to pause in his forward momentum. ）

Please, a moment.

（ he is confident that jim will respect that, and so he turns his back to the man without waiting for an immediate response, surrendering to a series of wet, hacking coughs that shake his shoulders and leave blood dappling his palm.

hm. foolish.

he curls his fingers around the worst of the evidence and scrubs his other hand across his face in the event any errant flecks are staining his mouth or chin. once he is certain he is rather more presentable he reorients towards kirk with a nod of his head. ）

I apologize. I do not think it wise to continue.

（ generally, he would lie. but unless he chooses to use genjutsu on the man and erase his memories, there is no point in doing so. ）

[ Jim's own stamina isn't exactly anything superpowered, but it still pretty impressive for an average Human. It's been years now since he got that transfusion from Khan, and while for the most part the side effects have vanished, a few things seem to have lingered, even if it's so faint that it's not even realistically detectable. Jim notices, though. It's what allows him to go on just a little longer than he otherwise would, taking a number of blows that could've knocked him out easy if only Itachi had put more strength to it.

He's about to reciprocate one of those blows when Itachi suddenly lifts a hand; he's got the momentum but he does stop, leaving him staggering for a second, balance returning shortly.

Even with his own slight panting, the burn in his chest from the effort, he notes immediately that something's not right. He steps closer, but waits for Itachi to turn towards him to ask. ]

Do you need to go to the infirmary?

[ He might not see any blood, but he heard that coughing, and he's got a feeling there was more to it than just a random cough. ]

No. It is an aggravation of an old injury. I am under the care of McCoy-sensei on its behalf. Please, do not be concerned — it is no fault of yours.

（ he has many old wounds, so that is a technical truth — even if it neatly dodges around the singular fact that what ails him is illness, not injury. it has killed him once, he suspects the window of grace he has is already narrowing.

he may be careful with his body, but it is the care one has for a tool — sharpened, whetted, put away. so, he shakes his head after a moment, and goes to claim a water bottle he keeps on one of the benches along the walls. he unscrews the cap, takes a long draught — diminishing that ugly, rotten taste of blood.

then: ）

Would you care to join me for tea? We can discuss our match. I am curious about some of the moves you know.

[ Jim would argue further, but Itachi does the one thing that puts his mind to rest: McCoy's name. His shoulders ease and he nods, making it obvious that he recognizes the name.

There's not really much he can do, besides that. Itachi isn't stretched out on the floor or anything, and whatever's happened seems to have calmed down now, even if the causes for it may still be there. ]

I'd like that. [ He smiles, this time taking a bow of his own to wrap up the sparring session. ] I'll do my best to answer any questions you have.

（ as they fall into easy step towards the kitchens — ）

How many teachers have you had? Your style has many echoes.

（ perhaps that is a phrase that translates oddly across the earpiece, but the sharingan makes it easy to discern the specificities of movement, motion, the way some things come naturally and others seem learned. kirk, to him, feels a little like a walking contradiction on the mat, many disparate parts cobbled into a functioning whole that is more elegant than one might expect. it genuinely intrigues him — most shinobi will learn their family's techniques and then train under a sensei, occasionally they will take a teacher in some specialized area to further themselves. ）

[ It translates just fine, to Jim. He understands what Itachi means, in fact with the way he was studying him all throughout that session, he's not at all surprised by the question. ]

A lot. I started learning proper martial arts while I was at the Academy, some ten years ago. We had a lot of teachers there, each of them with their own disciplines and their own styles. Some from my planet, others with styles from other planets, more adapted to a different physiology than that of a Human. Then I've been studying for a long time with my First Officer. He's also of a different species, and he's been teaching me a Vulcan discipline called the Suus Mahna.

[ He raises his shoulders in a shrug, using the opportunity to ease some of the tension there. ] Guess I end up throwing a lot of stuff into the pot when I'm fighting.

（ information that is gathered, assessed, and put away. he nods, and as they near the kitchens he drifts like a ghost to the high-tech kettle he is still not entirely comfortable using, gesturing for the man to take a seat while he prepares it.

(it's not personal — he is very particular about his tea, and does not like help)

he has a small collection of sencha he keeps in a box in one of the shelves, so he takes that down for use and goes through the motions of ceremony. as he does — ）

You do. It's intriguing. You must be a considerable threat when you are fighting those with similar thresholds of strength.

（ as he adds the leaves to the pot, something else occurs to him. he blinks, and then with a sideways glance: ）

My name is Itachi. I apologize for not introducing myself earlier, it did not seem especially relevant.

[ Jim nods and takes a seat. He's not the biggest connoisseur when it comes to tea, admittedly, but he understands the importance of preparing it for some people, so he lets Itachi do it to his taste. He's not especially picky anyway, so whatever he prepares for them will be just fine. ]

I put up a decent fight, you could say.

[ It's probably the most noteworthy thing about him. Even when he's fighting people who are stronger, sturdier, or more skilled, Jim's too damn stubborn to stay down. Whether that's resilience or stupidity is anyone's guess. ]

That's fine. Neither did I, after all, [ He notes. ] I'm James T. Kirk. Jim will do fine.

OPEN // training day

i'm already sorry

don't be 👀

laughing while holding a wine glass...

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cw for respiratory illness!

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