Entry tags:
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
magitech
[ Hunk is overwhelmed.
At first, it was in a good way. It's still in a good way! It is! Just... He can only relay the exploits of Voltron so many times, can only scrape so many details from his memory to convey, can only answer so many questions before he's just emotionally tired. And now that feeling is fighting with all of the other stuff twisted up in his guts, a mix of the usual anxieties coupled with brand new ones, courtesy of Earth's invasion and the battle they'd just finished.
He's afraid to leave his parents, which feels shamefully childish when he thinks about it. He knows it's not true, but... If he leaves them for too long, what if they're not there when he gets back? The security of their current situation, of being home, feels almost like it can't be real. What if he makes some sort of wrong move, and everything stutters and stops?
(He tries to tell himself that this is impossible thinking, but... Bob. That felt really real. And it was, in a sense, maybe? At least the current climate isn't a game show.)
Eventually, though, his need for some form of meditation wins out over illogical fears. He excuses himself after dinner to go check on the lions, which... There's Garrison-sponsored studies going on around them, now, but the Paladins are still allowed access without much comment, save for the occasional question concerning their ongoing recovery. Since it's later in the evening, though, anybody else attending the area's gone off-duty for the day.
Well. Most everybody. Pidge's current work area, a table littered with tech parts and a laptop or three, parked at the Green Lion's feet, is currently occupied. That's fine, though. Pidge is part of what he's grown into in his time away from Earth. While things here feel ill-fitting and tense, falling into the habits they kept in space feels like a natural remedy, and Pidge is pretty low-maintenance. They've sank into long bouts of silence over work plenty of times, and it stopped being uncomfortable a while ago.
He holds up a hand in greeting as he approaches, figuring he'll at least say hello before he pretends to tend to something with Yellow. With scores of people around them now and so many things to catch up on and things that need doing, they haven't seen each other as much as they're all used to. It's... weird. Just another thing that feels weird. ]
Hey, Pidge. How's it going?
At first, it was in a good way. It's still in a good way! It is! Just... He can only relay the exploits of Voltron so many times, can only scrape so many details from his memory to convey, can only answer so many questions before he's just emotionally tired. And now that feeling is fighting with all of the other stuff twisted up in his guts, a mix of the usual anxieties coupled with brand new ones, courtesy of Earth's invasion and the battle they'd just finished.
He's afraid to leave his parents, which feels shamefully childish when he thinks about it. He knows it's not true, but... If he leaves them for too long, what if they're not there when he gets back? The security of their current situation, of being home, feels almost like it can't be real. What if he makes some sort of wrong move, and everything stutters and stops?
(He tries to tell himself that this is impossible thinking, but... Bob. That felt really real. And it was, in a sense, maybe? At least the current climate isn't a game show.)
Eventually, though, his need for some form of meditation wins out over illogical fears. He excuses himself after dinner to go check on the lions, which... There's Garrison-sponsored studies going on around them, now, but the Paladins are still allowed access without much comment, save for the occasional question concerning their ongoing recovery. Since it's later in the evening, though, anybody else attending the area's gone off-duty for the day.
Well. Most everybody. Pidge's current work area, a table littered with tech parts and a laptop or three, parked at the Green Lion's feet, is currently occupied. That's fine, though. Pidge is part of what he's grown into in his time away from Earth. While things here feel ill-fitting and tense, falling into the habits they kept in space feels like a natural remedy, and Pidge is pretty low-maintenance. They've sank into long bouts of silence over work plenty of times, and it stopped being uncomfortable a while ago.
He holds up a hand in greeting as he approaches, figuring he'll at least say hello before he pretends to tend to something with Yellow. With scores of people around them now and so many things to catch up on and things that need doing, they haven't seen each other as much as they're all used to. It's... weird. Just another thing that feels weird. ]
Hey, Pidge. How's it going?