huntress mingle

[tsunergy]

Who: Huntress residents + visitors
Broadcast: if you want!
Action: Huntress
When: until the next one? /o/


[Crew comes, crew goes! Half of them are invisible but that's normal at this point.

It's a mingle! Enjoy it!]

Comments

OTA

[tempredmental]

[They had a few new people, and Keith was trying really hard to be okay with that. But it was stupidly hard to do that when he was feeling insanely less than social. He was coming to realize that it was definitely going to take some time to deal with the repercussions of what he'd almost done during his time back home (had he been back home? he still wasn't sure) and how things had changed for him in regards to the team and Voltron, but he was at least trying, right?

He'd be around the lounge, in his room, on the bridge at the pilot's station, or in the cargo bay with the punching bag.]

OTA

[wallcrawler]

[Pete was trying his best to be social, but it definitely had mixed results. While he might make an effort to chat up anyone he came across- he had yet to get to know most of them after all, to say nothing of any visitors- he had a bad habit of secluding himself away in the lab. A self-replenishing laboratory to play with was kind of his dream come true, even if the variety to those unlimited supplies was much more limited in nature. Overall, he's taking to his assigned role pretty well! He even enjoys it!

Things he's not taking to well: the food. He kind of struggles to force it down, and every so often someone might find him using some of his allotted protein meals for various experiments in the lab. He also has yet to leave the ship to get himself a proper pair of shoes. Someone make this dweeb get his life in order already.]


[ooc: Other wild-card like scenarios are also fine! He's an inquisitive kid and kind of loves the hell out of science and space in general, so it's also a given he'll be exploring everywhere and inspecting all the things because GUYS YOU'RE IN SPACE DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW COOL THAT IS?????]

ota

[airily]

[ Zaveid has never been much of a social person, and that doesn't change even with the newcomers to the fleet. Sure, he's friendly enough, but he doesn't go out of his way to go and chatter to humans in the same way that Sorey might; he doesn't need to eat, but he does wander around and snack sometimes, hovering here and there and generally making a nuisance out of himself and possibility irritating anyone who can see him. Someone has to do it, and with his pain from losing Dezel still rocking him... Well. He has to do something to keep his mind off it.

It's when the Christmas presents come that everything changes. The last gift he's had from home hasn't exactly been amazing - painful, to say the least, and he's glad he was able to pass it on to Eizen - and he takes the box and slips away with it, not quite daring to open it in public. Just in case.

He's glad he didn't.

When he opens the box the entire room seems to explode with gust and air, whipping around him as he slips into something a little less controlled, his heart racing in his chest. He puts it to one side and slips away, trying to calm his emotions - and anyone nearby, if they can see him or not, will definitely be aware of the wind that thrums through the room. It's only his concern for his plants and flowers that stops him from losing complete control and, instead, he makes his way to a wall and he punches it.

Zaveid keeps punching until it hurts, until something physical balances out the mental, punching and punching until he's sure that if he was human his bones would be mangled and shattered, breaking under the weight of his own strength. As it is they're sore and bruising, and he doesn't care. He feels sick and nauseous, shaking as he drops down to his knees, breathing out with his hair a tangled mass around him. He's close to losing it, to throwing up the scraps of food that he has eaten in the last few days, and he hates it. He's meant to be a seraphim, he's not meant to feel so human like this -

For the next few days he sits in a corner of his room, for the most part, staring at the dents in the wall where his hands had been. The box sits in the middle where he had opened it, one side of the lid flipped open, but the contents are hidden by a little bit of bright green paper, smelling of flowers and something soft and feminine. He wants to curl up with it, but he's afraid if he does the smell will disappear, so instead he sits and breathes it on the wind, pretending as though he isn't still crying. ]