Chanter (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chanter1944) wrote2007-02-15 10:12 pm
chanter1944) wrote2007-02-15 10:12 pm
Jitters-inspired Voyager fic
I blame this on a song played by a rather... iffy band performing while Katie and I were making a coffee run tonight. the first line of the summary contains the lyrics that caused this ficlet to knock me on the head. :)
Title: Atmosphere
Author: chanter
Series: Voy, with a slight reference to Faces - call it season 3.
Rating: PG
Characters/pairings: Kim-centric
Summary: this goes out to everyone who ever felt this way before. The mental reflections of a Delta-bound Harry Kim.
207 words
Some days he doesn’t know what to think. Love it. Hate it. Breathe it in, ride it out, take it in with the food and the water and the recycled air and the replicated clothing, everything that makes his world a combat vessel flung years from home and quadrant. Close quarters, hot tea, family.
Sometimes he isn’t sure what to think, draining the fruity dregs from his glass as the alcohol goes to his head, playing scales on his clarinet, fingering the single pip on his collar. Love it, live it, feel it in his veins and fly high.
Some nights he isn’t sure what he thinks; long, hot sleepless nights under his blankets dreaming of the unattainable, restless nights shooting pool under the lights of a holographic café, exhausted nights where his sleep is uninterrupted and dreamless. Love it. Hate it. Embrace the crowds and the conflict and the interdependency.
Sometimes he doesn’t even try to think about it, and sometimes he can’t get the realities out of his mind and ends up analyzing and deconstructing them until his head spins. Hate it. Love it. The work and the play and the confusing ever-present contradictions. And everything in between.
Sometimes he almost understands how Torres feels.
Title: Atmosphere
Author: chanter
Series: Voy, with a slight reference to Faces - call it season 3.
Rating: PG
Characters/pairings: Kim-centric
Summary: this goes out to everyone who ever felt this way before. The mental reflections of a Delta-bound Harry Kim.
207 words
Some days he doesn’t know what to think. Love it. Hate it. Breathe it in, ride it out, take it in with the food and the water and the recycled air and the replicated clothing, everything that makes his world a combat vessel flung years from home and quadrant. Close quarters, hot tea, family.
Sometimes he isn’t sure what to think, draining the fruity dregs from his glass as the alcohol goes to his head, playing scales on his clarinet, fingering the single pip on his collar. Love it, live it, feel it in his veins and fly high.
Some nights he isn’t sure what he thinks; long, hot sleepless nights under his blankets dreaming of the unattainable, restless nights shooting pool under the lights of a holographic café, exhausted nights where his sleep is uninterrupted and dreamless. Love it. Hate it. Embrace the crowds and the conflict and the interdependency.
Sometimes he doesn’t even try to think about it, and sometimes he can’t get the realities out of his mind and ends up analyzing and deconstructing them until his head spins. Hate it. Love it. The work and the play and the confusing ever-present contradictions. And everything in between.
Sometimes he almost understands how Torres feels.
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