tookashirototheknee: (fond smile)
Matt Holt ([personal profile] tookashirototheknee) wrote in [community profile] victory_road2018-05-14 04:16 pm

Action: So no one told you life was gonna be this way....

Who: Matt Holt, residents of Attack on Voltron House, and OTA anyone else.
Where: Attack on Voltron House, Five Island, and the Observatory
When: Mid to late May
Summary: A space boy goes to work to teach people about spacepokemon, and then goes hope to be stupidly domestic.
Rating: PG (Matt swears more often than not)
Log:

I: Observatory

Ever since prom, Matt has been working on finding out everything he can about both the rifts in the sky and the pokemon who came through them. Unfortunately, it's been a lot more slow going than he'd really like. Most of what he's found can be boiled down to 'they exist'.

That has never stopped Matt before, so he's still digging, still reading everything he can come across.

However, that does not mean he's not going to be out in the evenings with his star lectures, or giving planetarium shows or space travel lectures to anyone who's interested. He does have an observatory to run after all.

II - Domesticity

A boy can't be at work all the time, and when he's not, he can be found on the beach near his house, putting his pokemon through training, either borrowing a very bored Kuro, or fishing up some poor Magikarp or other fish for his team to attack. His little brood is growing, and he seems proud of even the smaller ones.

When they're not training, Matt's helping clean the house, do laundry, or other various benign tasks that need to be done. It's not glamorous, but it is life.

If someone comes over, he'll offer them some Lemonade, or a Soda Pop and some conversation.
lordofthefries: (→ don't make me get up from here)

[personal profile] lordofthefries 2018-05-22 03:37 am (UTC)(link)
"I'm Sasha." They've spoken before, but only on the network and even if she's been here for a while, speaking in person is totally different to Sasha than it is speaking via the 'gear. There's just something about face to face interaction that's more comfortable for her.

And that something is just being from a place where letters are the primary mode of long distance communication rather than emails.

She runs a hand through her bangs, those powdery looking curls of hair that are in a dire need of a wash to get flour dusted on them out, and smiles a little. "I, uh, made too much and I couldn't eat it all by myself anymore." Not for lack of trying, anyway.