tampered | → we're soarin', flyin'

Entry tags:

→ we're soarin', flyin'

When; 06 September, Friday, late afternoon.
Rating; PG-13???
Characters; Ginny Weasley [

hexuality] & Hikaru Sulu [

excelsiors]
Summary; Flying bros getting up to flying things.

Log;

[Ginny says her flying lessons are for weekends but truth be told, she'll take any excuse to take someone flying whenever there's a spare moment. So she's taken off from work early and she's in Xanadu with brooms and two paper bags of an early dinner because one should not fly on an empty stomach.

Or, you know. She's a Weasley and food is like breathing.

She's climbed a low-hanging branch of a tree for now, two brooms leaning up on the trunk with the rest of her things nestled among the roots, and she's fashioned a whistle out of a leaf as she waits. She may have lived in the City for four and a half years, but she will always be a wild summer child from the countryside at heart.]

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_{( he's not really sure what to do with his newfound freedom, most days. sulu's used to structure and schedules, and though he can be a bit of a free spirit he works best under pressure. the city has come with its own surprises, and the stars know how many stressors, but it isn't quite the same. he's at a loose end, and it's really weird.

flying has been, amongst other things, a distraction and a goal. something to get better at, something to achieve in. something to feel good about at the end of the day when he goes to sleep with comfortably sore muscles.

which is why he never misses a chance to do more of it. today, he's out of uniform but still in yellow and black, hair pushed away from his face and features set in a placid expression. he arrives at their predetermined spot, finds the right tree, leans against it casually.

he should probably look up. )}

[He should, but there's no fun in him knowing she's there. Ginny thinks about calling out as she sees him approaching but decides against it and waits, pulling up her legs and swinging them onto the branch. She does love flying with people who want to learn, with people who appreciate it as much as she does, who find a distraction and a solace in it. It's her way to release energy and thoughts and to channel it all into someone else is also something wonderful and still new despite the years she's been here.

Best of all, she likes flying with Sulu (with anyone from Starfleet, it seems) because he gets it. She doesn't have to try and put into words what flying should feel like. It just is. So she should be eager and excited to start today's evening fly around, but she is first and foremost a Weasley and mischief is in her blood as much as the sky.

She blows hard on the leaf whistle, letting it sing out. And if (when) he does look for the source of the sound, she grins down at him, innocent as can be.]

You know, I could have just jumped on you, but I figured announcing my presence was a better idea.

_{( he is a well-trained, utterly disciplined starfleet officer. he literally cannot be ruffled. and yet, when the whistle sounds, he makes a movement that would be the beginnings of a startled jump in anyone else. because this is sulu, it takes him .5 seconds to realize what's happening and reign in his response. he tilts his head up, smiles. )}

It's probably for the best. I think I might have dropped you.

_{( he delivers that line as flatly as possible. )}

I'm not sure if I should pity your self-confidence or be offended that you've called me fat.

[Just as flat, if it weren't for the amusement in her eyes. Ginny places the leaf between her teeth and climbs down with a lightness that speaks of childhoods spent swinging from branch to branch and when she's on the ground, she grins at him, all teeth and leaf.]

It was more a comment on my coordination than your weight.

_{( but he coughs, at that, ears going ever so slightly pink. he'd never comment on her weight, really. )}

[Her smile widens a fraction, more warm than teasing.]

Mm, yes, I suppose you're quite the gentleman.

[She plucks the leaf from her mouth and lets it flutter to the ground as she bends to pick up the paper takeout bags, holding one out to him.]

And I am quite the lady because I've brought dinner.

[What's in the bags? WHATEVER YOU LIKE.]

_{( he just raises both his brows, expression entirely innocent. )}

Something like that.

_{( he takes the bag reflexively, poking his nose into it and finding pastramis. because who doesn't like pastrami? )}

And here I didn't bring you anything. Remind me next time, and I'll at least manage dessert.

If you haven't learned by now, you'll know soon enough that a Weasley is never far from food. And it's almost dinner time, besides.

[She settles on the grass and leans up on the tree so that the brooms don't get knocked over, starting to tuck in.]

But I'd never turn down dessert.

_{( he eats in delicate, small bites. his cheeks don't stretch, he chews methodologically. )}

No smart person would.

_{( he nods, before taking another bite. swallows, smiles at her. )}

[... Definitely the complete opposite of how Ron devours anything. Ginny herself starts picking bits out of her sandwich and eating those separately as she goes, thoughtful as she nibbles on a piece of pastrami.]

Favourite?

Mooncakes.

_{( that's an almost immediate answer, though he follows it up with: )} I'm not that picky. I just like sweets.

You?

The ice cream my Mum makes. [Or basically... everything Molly Weasley makes.] The chocolate cake they make at my school's a close second, though.

What's a mooncake?

You can make ice cream? _{( as in, at home and not in some factory somewhere? amazing. )} You guys really are magic.

Mooncakes are pastries. About this big _{( he makes a circle 10 cm across with both hands )} and filled with red bean or lotus paste. My grandmother made really good ones, when I was a kid.

Magic's the normal way for us. But I've seen ice cream machines you can buy for your kitchen here, I think. That's a kind of magic too, isn't it?

[Muggle technology is FOREVER FASCINATING. Ginny listens to his explanation, brows raising.]

And they're sweet?

[But red beans...]

I think anything that can make food without replicating it is magic, honestly.

_{( everything tastes so much better he could cry. )}

It's more semi-sweet. Salty, too, depending on the filling.

[Squinting.]

You keep saying things like I'm supposed to know what they mean. Replicating. That's—?

Oh, sorry.

It's... technology that rearranges the molecules of something, recycling it into something else. It's how we synthesize meals in space.

[She waves off the apology because what she meant is that she's always interested to hear about other people's worlds. She wants the explanations. And when she hears this one, her nose wrinkles.]

So you're eating food made out of recycled stuff. It's not real food at all?

_{( he waves one hand from side to side, a vague gesture. )}

It's food, at an atomic level. Completely changed into something new. But you can't beat real cooking, and after months in space it gets... old.

Then maybe being stuck here isn't too horrible if it means actual produce.

[She grins a bit, shaking her head then going in to take another bite of her sandwich with greater reverence for actual food. She swallows, then asks,]

With all your fancy technology, you can't preserve fresh food? What do they taste like, replicated meals? Can you have anything?

Oh, yeah. I'll take being trapped in a space-time anomaly as long as there are lots of cherry tomatoes.

_{( crunching down on one in his sandwich, as it so happens. )}

You can ask the replicator for anything. What you get depends on the complexity, how good you are with the machine.

I can get twelve kinds of tea. _{( so proud. )}

As an Englishwoman, I approve of that.

[She tips her head back against the tree, looking up at the leaves and through them to the sky, grinning.]

Adventure up in the stars for real food. Quite the choice. Do people get other people to work the replicator for them, if they're better at it? Merlin knows I would. I can't settle for bland food.

M-class planets versus macaroni and cheese. _{( nodding sagely. )}

If you're smart, you can use it as a bargaining chip. Trade good food for fresh water tokens, or something.

What makes a planet M-class? [Eyes narrowing, teasing.] Or is that confidential?

We're not spies. Or government suits. Most Starfleet intel is public record. _{( they're explorers, not soldiers. and then sulu thinks about harrison and the deep betrayal of having one of their top brass go entirely against everything starfleet was founded on, and it's a pang in his chest. he didn't realize the wound was still so raw. )}

But, M-class. Oxygen-based atmosphere. Habitable to life as we know it.

[His first comment earns a flicker of a smile because it may be public record in his world but it isn't here. She knows there have been secrets and she knows she's done the same, it's this bond between worlds that is necessary.]

So that's what the City would be. [She polishes off her sandwich, brushing the crumbs from her hands.] And what does that make me?

Life as we know it. _{( nodding. )}

Though the magic would make for an interesting log, that's not really my department.

Who'd study it, then, if they came across it?

[She makes to stand, grabbing her broom and holding it out as if to examine the thing.]

Who'd study this? I think Spock wants to scan me.

Spock's Chief Science Officer, but Doctor McCoy and Doctor Marcus would probably be involved, too. And the rest of the science department.

_{( finishing off his lunch and folding the paper bag into neat fourths. that is some seriously complexed behavior, sulu. )}

It's the commander's job to scan things, I guess. But something tells me he'd want to do it even if it wasn't.

Like we're something to be studied under a magnifying glass.

[But it's more exasperated than annoyed. She steps onto the footholds of her broom and it levitates upright, a hand on her hip.]

I don't think science can explain everything.

_{( wrinkling his nose. )} Not exactly. It's more about trying to understand what we come across than actively studying it. The scientist-subject relationship is... well, it's different than how it would've been a hundred or so years ago.

Probably not. But we're explorers. It's our job to find the inexplicable.

[She tips her head, amused, and then she shifts so that her broom straightens out to parallel with the ground and she's properly sitting on it.]

Inexplicable. Well, you've found it. Why don't you explain this scientist-subject relationship while we fly?

_{( he mirrors her movements, well-practiced at that part at least, by now.

he grins. )}

Don't think distracting me is going to knock me off my game.

[She snorts.]

Please. If I wanted to throw you off your game, I wouldn't do it that way. [She lifts up and rises into the air, tossing her hair behind her shoulders then leaning forward.] Come on, let's work on managing speed. Race you.

_{( he doesn't respond directly, to that. if he had more practice, his next move would be one fluid motion into the air and off at breakneck speed. as it is, it takes him a few fumbling movements to get there.

being in the air feels good, right, even if he's not entirely used to it yet. and he never could turn down a good challenge. )}

[That's her impulse but it would be unfair, so she doesn't do it, just waits patiently for him to get his bearings and a half-second's head start and then she kicks off after him, leaning down and grinning, as she comes up next to him, glancing over. She's glad for this, for people who have taken her up on her offer to fly, for people to fly with and who love it, too.]

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→ we're soarin', flyin'

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ugh god now i want mooncakes

lets have an autumn festival and make some

YES

B)

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