driftfleet | Heron May mingle

[ a - kitchen ]

[ The glamour of being on a spaceship fades very quickly when you realize that all the shelves are too high to do anything with. He briefly thinks about his old chair (magically modified) to give him the rail support that he needs. Until then, like the stubborn man that he is, he pushes himself up on the counter to reach what he needs. ]

[ b - the lab ]

[ Even though for the most part, Charles has appropriated Hank's lab, he still finds himself using the one on the Heron. Mostly to check up on the current research (and a small space to put his books as he would fill up his own far too quickly). For now, he goes through the plant and soil samples intently, making notes as he goes along. ]

[ c - wildcard ]

Edited 2016-05-14 14:25 (UTC)

i. the ship

[Erik's been getting increasingly restless, and while he still goes down to the moon fairly frequently, being cooped up in this box of a ship grates on his nerves at times. His movements have become slightly jerkier, moving around the corridors. He's taken to sitting on the bridge for a while during afternoons near the windows, and winding spare metal around his fingers. He molds it into random shapes, liquefies it, and spins it around in the air. There's a certain artfulness to it, even when it's without form and just winding its way through the air. The intensity in his expression belies the calming effect it has on him.

Otherwise, he works in the engine room, or occasionally in the lab where he's set up chemical baths for the poisoned metal he'd retrieved from the moon. If it's early in the morning, he's often on the treadmill for a while.]

ii. wildcard

[Whatever's on your mind!]

Edited 2016-05-14 10:59 (UTC)

1. SHINJI'S BUNK.

[Shinji still has swaths of leftover fabric from the costumes he made for the moon's masquerade party. He hasn't done anything with it, because he doesn't know what to do with it. Throwing it away would be wasteful. So he tapes up a plain sign in the kitchen that says he's willing to make fabric-based things for people. Commissions, in other words. But for free! There's a list of potential items at the bottom: clothing, curtains, communicator pouches, pillows and blankets, even dolls.

If someone is interested, the sign directs them to visit Shinji at his bunk. He's attempting to make his own communicator pouch right now.] Maybe this stuff is too fancy, [he says to himself, peering at the fabric. It's shimmery gold and honestly kind of garish.] Dark blue might be better...

2. LABORATORY/MEDICAL BAY. (cw: medical stuff, needles, blood, somatic delusion.)

[Shinji isn't the type of person to socialize, but he often observes the other members of the crew, figuring out their unique schedules. He tries to time his latest visit to the medical bay to when absolutely no one else is around. Once inside, he starts pulling open and shoving his way through various drawers and cabinets as quickly as he can. He's looking for a few very important things in order to conduct his own checkup.

He locates the syringes. The needles. Alcohol swabs. Tape. A rubber tourniquet. A Petri dish... Do they have a microscope? God, he hopes so. Lately, especially right after he wakes up, he swears he can feel something swimming around in his blood. It could be a nasty parasite, or a virulent disease, or...

He's so intent on gathering supplies that he doesn't even notice when someone walks in.]

3. WILDCARD.

[Hit Shinji with whatever you want, or leave a blank comment for a random, personalized starter. Shinji will be available throughout the Heron. Feel free to ping me at

glowmoss to discuss anything.]

Edited 2016-05-14 13:25 (UTC)

[Heading over to the Heron to see Shinji is standard procedure for Asuka at this point, even though he doesn't need her checking up on him the way that he used to. When she doesn't find him in the kitchen, she heads for his bedroom, and when she can't find him there, she turns to wandering around the rest of the ship. She doesn't like messaging him on the communicator prior to showing up, much more accustomed to bursting in unannounced, as if he's a marsupial she's trying to watch in its natural habitat. Or maybe she just doesn't want him preparing himself for her arrival.]

[She can hear the opening and closing of drawers from outside the door of the med bay, so she yanks it open on a whim, not particularly expecting to see him there, or the disarray he's left in his wake. She steps inside without preamble or apology, frowning as she peers at him. It's not exactly her favorite place on her own ship, though obviously, no one's yet tried to run any medical tests on her there. So what's Shinji doing here? She glances at the needles and syringes with a twitch of her lip. God, when will he know what's good for him?]

You're not looking for drugs, are you?

[Oh, of course. Of course he couldn't do this without someone--Asuka, of all goddamn people--barging in on him. Shinji's bladder seriously clenches in fear, but he manages to keep himself under control. Exhaling hard, he sets down the box of cotton balls and then glances over his shoulder.]

Hey, Asuka, [he says, and he can taste a nervous sweat on his lips.] I'm not-- Jeez, I'm not looking for drugs. I don't even take those sleeping pills anymore. [Not by choice, to be honest. The medicine just slowly lost its effectiveness after a few weeks of taking it. Now he's back to being unable to sleep, or else being plagued with restless dreams.]

You didn't tell me you were coming over.

[ Well. Not something you see every day. Charles thought he was looking at a younger version of Hank.

He clears his throat. Loudly. ]

It smells like alcohol in here, [Kaworu says of the medical bay, with neither pleasure nor displeasure evident in his acknowledgement. He's dressed loudly but casually today — deep pink shirt, dark blue pants, and a bracelet made out of bright orange beads that he'd found on the moon. His demeanor is just as casual, but much quieter: of course, his hands are down inside his pockets, and he leans with his backside against one of the counters. His ankles are even crossed. He's watching Shinji — surprising, right? — and is clearly more opinionated about that than about the alcohol smell. At least, he looks charmed.

The sterility makes him think. Or, remember, maybe. It's enough that he idles for several moments — the way his eyes follow Shinji's movements is all that keeps Kaworu from vacancy. But his smile is present all throughout that, as well as when his head circles back to the reason why he's here in the first place: ] Well, if you have scissors, you can take as much off as you want. [He takes one hand from its pocket and raises it up to ruffle at the back of his hair, in a fluffing action. His hair no longer spikes away from the top of his neck; it's gotten long enough that it flares out at the bottom, now.] I shouldn't let it grow so much, anyway. But I'm not sure how large of a specimen you need?

[Technically, this isn't Kaworu's ship... It's just that he visits so often, and he's tactless enough to make himself entirely at home in a foreign space. So he glides into the kitchen with the grace of someone who is gliding for real — hands in his pockets, calm in expression, Kaworu manages to look like he belongs here. He's very domestic in how he reaches a cupboard, opens it up, and retrieves two mugs, both handles in one hand.

The mugs clack together lightly as he halfway glances over towards Charles.]

Are you near the tea?

[He's so casual and polite that one might wonders if he even notices Charles' position.]

[ Show off

But Charles doesn't scowl and attempts to look like a man who hasn't been that put out. ]

I believe it's on that shelf, if you don't mind.

[ If Kaworu was going to get it, then Charles might as well ease himself back on the chair. ]

[Again, Kaworu is tactless... Though in this case, he just has no idea what it must be like to have your body be unable to do... anything. It's one thing to be a human who has a hard time understanding another person's circumstances; Kaworu, on the other hand, can't even conceptualize being anything but hardy, since it's just not possible for him. A sheltered upbringing has only fostered that disconnect.

He does, however, have a warm smile, and is tender towards human beings regardless of their physical capabilities, so Charles is immediately treated like an old friend, with Kaworu's welcoming body language and all. He steps over, reaches for the shelf.] Now, does tea really help one sleep? [he asks. There's more than one box, and he seems to be trying to make a decision between them.]

[ Charles blinks. ]

It depends on the tea in question. Why, do you need a sleeping aid?

Asking for a friend, [Kaworu says cheerfully.] Well, if it does or doesn't, I'm sure it can't hurt...? [So he plucks up one of the boxes. Could be some sort of tea made out of space roses? He thinks it sounds nice.]

If you'd like, [he says,] while I'm here, I can make an extra cup. I'm using your facilities, after all.

[ Charles is quiet. His self-sufficiency wars with his often, occasional need to lean on other people. He doesn't like it, he never has, but there's no denying the reality of his situation. And he rather not hurt himself. ]

If you don't mind. Chamomile is supposed to be good for helping people sleep.

No, I don't mind. [There's a mellow light to him. For what it's worth, Kaworu's offer didn't come because he thinks Charles is incapable: rather than pity, it's just an innate love. Kaworu likes to do things. He likes people. Sharing a cup of tea seems like a reasonable conclusion.

And Charles' advice is nice to have, too. Prepared to abandon the rose hip tea if necessary, Kaworu examines the other boxes to see what they are.] So, chamomile? Is that the kind you want as well? This one is... Oh, it's peppermint — and, I've found the chamomile.

I'll take the peppermint please.

[ He leans back against his chair, watching the man move and shuffle through the contents of the shelf. Not human, his mind supplies. While Charles isn't reading his thoughts, the low level hum of activity he feels is different from most minds. ]

Peppermint, [says Kaworu indulgently, retrieving that box,] and chamomile, and... [He turns his head to smile over his shoulder at Charles, very pleasant in countenance but maybe a bit sheepish, like an adolescent who's embarrassed himself.] I admit I want to drink the roses.

[So, three bags of tea, from three separate boxes. Luckily, Kaworu's at least learned that preparing tea isn't particularly complicated. Though he's not exactly orthodox about it... Once he fetches a third mug, meant for Charles, Kaworu's pouring water directly into each mug, so that he can pop them into the space-age microwave.]

[ Charles chuckles lightly, bemused. ]

Rose hip tea isn't made from the rose itself but from the hip, a small part of the rose itself.

Is that so? But I still think it sounds very nice. [Perhaps that makes him sound idealistic, or naive, or...

Well, they're half-true, or somewhere close. He also doesn't seem to fear looking ignorant. (That one isn't quite as true.)]

I don't know very much about plants. Just a little, here and there.

Oh, it probably does. I imagine many other people have fallen under that misconception.

[ The smell of tea permeates the air. Charles exhales softly. It reminds him of things long ago. ]

Not many people do. I'm not much of a horticulturist myself.

[Kaworu, on the other hand, has only recently started drinking tea. Its scent doesn't convey any exceptional amount of comfort for him — it's just something pleasant. He's hoping that it will be more meaningful for Shinji.]

It's something that interests me, admittedly. And I've tried my hand at it a little... But the things a person can know about something are usually much fewer than the things they don't know. Wouldn't you say?

[ This isn't the normal kind of conversation Charles has with teenagers. ]

I suppose I would, but that's what makes learning so fulfilling. It never really ends.

[Five minutes of privacy. Seriously. Is that too much to ask? Just which deity does Shinji have to beg for a favor from so he can get five minutes to himself to investigate his own potentially infected blood? He looks over his shoulder, bleary-eyed. He has all the symptoms of chronic insomnia and not getting enough sunlight.]

Hello.

[At least he's willing to look sheepish about this trespass.]

I was just, uh... looking for some stuff.

I never do.

[She steps over towards him, picking up one of the cotton balls between her finger and thumb. The supplies he's pulled out are relatively random. No drugs, like he'd said. It's almost as if...]

Are you testing something?

[Asuka can't remember him being particularly bright in anything at school. Then again, in those days she'd been content enough with her own prowess to sneer at everyone else from above, at least outwardly. For all his parentage, Shinji hadn't seemed to have any aptitude for the sciences. Still frowning, Asuka peers at him deliberately.]

What are you doing?

[Kaworu may be guilty of Thinking Too Much.

The tea seems to be finished, at least. He takes each mug out of the ship's microwave-type-deal, and then navigates to a drawer so that he can get spoons. For someone who doesn't actually live on this ship, he's mostly competent at getting around in here.]

Endings are fulfilling in their own right. Well, I think they would be.

I can see that.

[ He raises an eyebrow at him - giving Shinji the distinct impression of a schoolmaster or a teacher. ]

May I ask what you might be looking for?

Heron May mingle

Charles Xavier | OTA

Erik Lehnsherr | OTA

Shinji Ikari | OTA

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[ 2 ]

kinda 2, kinda 3

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