Hubert Oswell (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
broadsidewaltz) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-09-22 11:08 pm
broadsidewaltz) wrote in thecapitol2014-09-22 11:08 pm
Entry tags:
[closed] you rolled in like a wrecking ball
Who| Hubert and The Signless
What| Some getting over 'dying' and a whole lot of awkward comforting an acquaintance/friend...
Where| Hubert's room, on District 9's floor
When| Soon after their respective deaths in the arena, way before the blackout
Warnings/Notes| idk a lot of sadness/comfort/hubert being unable to emote properly
Getting used to having died-- well, it still hadn't really completely sunk in. Perhaps it was stranger to feel in the midst of battle, and then suddenly, the second-long realization that he was losing his life... only to wake up, later, unscathed. Needing time to process this alone, Hubert had mostly taken to shutting himself in his room, just for a bit-- vowing to train harder than ever once he was done reflecting on his mistakes. Of course, he had put himself in a position where he was helping someone-- and he shouldn't have even deigned to. Trust was obviously a bad idea, so why had he found himself doing just that?
Ugh. He blamed the solidarity he had sensed among a couple of people he knew. Namely his rather interesting mentor, Harley, and an interesting acquaintance- the Signless, was it?
Hubert sighed, stopping in his useless pacing to perch on the edge of his bed, having showered earlier that morning- feeling fresh any way but mentally in a simple long black-sleeved sweater and plain grey slacks that clung to his legs. Nearly leggings, at that. It was just more comfortable that way.
Maybe it was best he rethink his options. Getting close to anyone here was probably a bad idea, lest he let himself get unnecessarily altruistic and softhearted again...
What| Some getting over 'dying' and a whole lot of awkward comforting an acquaintance/friend...
Where| Hubert's room, on District 9's floor
When| Soon after their respective deaths in the arena, way before the blackout
Warnings/Notes| idk a lot of sadness/comfort/hubert being unable to emote properly
Getting used to having died-- well, it still hadn't really completely sunk in. Perhaps it was stranger to feel in the midst of battle, and then suddenly, the second-long realization that he was losing his life... only to wake up, later, unscathed. Needing time to process this alone, Hubert had mostly taken to shutting himself in his room, just for a bit-- vowing to train harder than ever once he was done reflecting on his mistakes. Of course, he had put himself in a position where he was helping someone-- and he shouldn't have even deigned to. Trust was obviously a bad idea, so why had he found himself doing just that?
Ugh. He blamed the solidarity he had sensed among a couple of people he knew. Namely his rather interesting mentor, Harley, and an interesting acquaintance- the Signless, was it?
Hubert sighed, stopping in his useless pacing to perch on the edge of his bed, having showered earlier that morning- feeling fresh any way but mentally in a simple long black-sleeved sweater and plain grey slacks that clung to his legs. Nearly leggings, at that. It was just more comfortable that way.
Maybe it was best he rethink his options. Getting close to anyone here was probably a bad idea, lest he let himself get unnecessarily altruistic and softhearted again...
no subject
He frowned and looked down at his red-stained sleeve. Ah, right. Most human bodily fluids were clear. Of course Hubert would find his red tears strange and off-putting.
"It's okay. I'm not bleeding. My tears are naturally this color."