PRESS PAUSE ✰ scarves??

[arcy]

[div style="margin: 0 auto; width: 65%; font-family: timesnewroman; font-size: 10pt; text-align: justify;"]Jim is homesick.
This is a fact.
No matter what he does, no matter what he tries to focus on, he can't stop thinking of his crew. And it just makes him feel ... hollow. He likes his groupmates, and his rank. He wants to help them thrive and his pre-fleet self would have loved to stay here. ... Today's Jim just misses his crew and his friends and his ship.
He's not going back. Jim knows a lot about engineering and theories and the transporter, but not enough to make a trans-dimensional transporter, and, even if he did, he wouldn't have the supplies. Unless his crew manages to fetch him, he's here for-fucking-ever.
God. He's so tired. ... ... He needs a distraction.
When Jim had been a kid in fuck-off Iowa, he'd had the unfortunate habit of picking up hobbies like one would coins or clothes or fuck if Jim knew what regular people did. His best friends in his later life had been so fucking weird, and no basis for comparison. .. This is besides the point. The point is that Jim is falling into old habits, because he desperately needs something to do. Something to help him forget.
He loses everyone, eventually. .. Forget.
Sewing was an odd choice, and probably one that his crew would lovingly make fun of him for. But a hobby it was. Something he could dedicate time to. It got results. That's all that mattered. So he slunk about to get his fabric, and the materials he needed. He wasn't sure how the fuck he was going to sew with his paws ... unless he got a sewing machine or something, but he doesn't think that they had electricity. Except for Jim. .. Handling it would probably short it out if he wasn't careful, anyways. (jim doesn't actually know a lot about these 'vintage' machines. he's just making guesses.)
So, old fashioned it was. Fine needles are very difficult to handle with paws. He fumbles and pricks his paws and he can't even get a fucking grip. He has to make some minor modifications -- by modifications he means a cool little system to actually be able to hold it, (spoiler, it's basically just some fucking .. sticky thing. He's not sure, but he has), and also needles of a specific material, for his electricity.
A scarf is easy. A little too easy, but still requires enough finesse and focus(at least with paws) to keep his mind from wandering. He's not sure if he feels hollow or at ease -- maybe both? .. Either way, there's no grief in his chest right as he does it, and that's all that matters.
.. It's easy enough to make a few. Granted, his first two were fucking disasters. Jim didn't know shit about sewing, okay? Give him a break. (also, frank discouraged 'traditionally feminine' activities. incredibly old fashioned, much?) .. Aside from those, he has a neat three scarves. Why scarves? Because Jim doesn't know how the fuck to make anything else, that's why! .. Scarves are kinda nice, though. He'll admit it. And yeah, so maybe Jim loops one of the golden ones around his neck and sticks a little starfleet pin on it, just for nostalgia's sake. But like .. fuck off. That's his problem.
... Jim then proceeds to set the failed scarves on fire, just because he can. It's good practice for his electricity, or whatever. .. He just has to be careful with what he actually wears. Anyways, he's content just ... staring blankly at the flaming heap of cloth for the moment. Jim had been considered a pyromaniac when he was young and honestly, yeah, they were probably right.
//tl;dr jim got homesick and then made scarves(one of which he's now wearing) now he's staring at some currently burning scarves. ur char can ask for one he isnT burning if u want but yknow whatever
sorry for the shitty thread but expect more bc Hey theyre threads

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[Morgan]

"Jim? I sensed something burning over here -- are you alright?"

Morgan appeared seemingly out of nowhere, a look of half-delighted surprise painted over his face.

"Oh, you know how to make scarves, too?"

He pulled a bit of his own grey scarf forward to show it off.

"It's been tough work making these for Tanglers who get their badges. I learned how to make these with no training at all, so if you could help, it'd..."

He stopped himself. The General quieted down for a moment before continuing,

"Sorry, I got a bit ahead of myself there. These scarves really do look cute. I won't force you to help out or anything, but you do seem to be pretty good at this."

He smiled and stepped closer, sniffing at one of the finished non-burning garments.

"Where'd you learn how to make these, anyway?"

[arcy]

[div style="margin: 0 auto; width: 65%; font-family: timesnewroman; font-size: 10pt; text-align: justify;"]Jim likes listening to people talk, or even just being in the presence of people. This was a given, granted how easily he'd agreed to joining. Still, it makes him somewhat relieved, noticing Morgan's presence. The wolfdog's ears prick as he looks up, and offers a crooked grin in greeting.
"I only just picked it back up. Hence the .." He motions wordlessly to the flames. He may be naturally gifted at basically anything, but sewing just wasn't his forte. At least as a dog. At least it was a nice distraction. .. The fact that it was hard to make so many scarves didn't come as a surprise. Seriously, how many times would the big guy have to do it? Jim really felt for him. "Don't sweat it. I'd be happy to help. Something to do, y'know?" Jim is feeling a little empty for enthusiasm right now, but his grin grows wide and assuring anyways. His tail gently thumps against the ground. He was wondering what he'd do with this new hobby -- having the idea brought to him was just a bonus. "I learned a little bit a long time ago, from my aunt. I forgot a lot of it, but I only had to do some basic reading to catch up. Way harder to do in practive, though. Pretty cool that you learned on your own, though!" Feeling a little better now, he'd give an enthusiastic thumbs up if he could, but he ... doesn't have thumbs. It was impressive, especially considering. Yknow. Paws. His aunt had taught him when he was ... y'know, there. But he was just fifteen -- this was, what, nearly ten years ago? A half-memory resparked. It's not a good memory, what with the planet and what happened afterwards, but he still remembers it with an horrible, aching fondness.

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[arrow]

[glow=black,1,400]DID I HIT THE SPOT, PISS YOU OFF, MAKE YOU A FOOL IN FRONT OF EVERYONE — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

"Why'd you light them on fire?" Arrow was the next to appear, popping up behind Morgan with a wide eyed and curious gaze at the discarded and obliterated failed scarves that just didn't make the cut. Maybe it just fell in line with her habit of collecting all that was shitty and useless, but she was sure there was some other fate for the piles of shit fabric.

The chocolate feline tilted her head, trying to decide if she could participate in the making of scarves with the two canine boys. In the end though, she had the dexterity and grace of someone who just dropped acid, and decided against it. "Aunt? That's...that's a family thing right?"

[arcy]

[div style="margin: 0 auto; width: 65%; font-family: timesnewroman; font-size: 10pt; text-align: justify;"]Who the hell was this. Jim blinks at Arrow a few times, wracking his mind for where he remembered her and -- ah. Arrow. Jim allows himself a wide, crooked grin. Almost a smirk, but not really.
"I'm a pyromaniac." He deadpans in a way that makes it unclear if he was joking or not. He kind of wasn't. He'd just ... curbed his destructive tendencies lately. For the sake of his crew and reputation and that was it. Who the hell in Tanglewood cared if he burned a few things, huh?
.. He doesn't expect a comment on his aunt. Jim scarcely manages to keep his ears from flattening down, but his grin remains genuine still. He nods. "Yeah. Sister of a parent." He confirms, a little puzzled as to why she'd need confirmation, but decides it doesn't really matter. He then decides that spilling just a little about himself isn't that much of a deal, and he tilts his head, closes his eyes. It's all in dramatic effect, really. Really, though, it's easier to talk, here. Nobody had context for his life -- he was here, and that's all that really mattered. "I stayed with her for, uh .. a while, 'cause my mom was always away. She thought sewing was a good way for me to contribute," Shit, people age differently here. .. He hadn't actually had long enough to learn more than the basics there, though. Jim remains vague in his wording, though, unwilling to say more if he can help it. He gave personal info rarely, he was just .. in a lenient mood, right now. Though.. The reality of it all was a little worse. Frank had demanded he be sent away for driving that damn car off the cliff.

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