first one who touches the ground loses

Of course Octavia didn't have a key. What she did have were semi-rusty skills at picking locks. She'd practiced, down in the bunker, and taught it to Niylah in the early years, but it had been a while. Duke could've done it faster, but she insisted on doing it herself.

Took longer, but she did it, then straightened up with her hand against the door - and paused, instead off opening it, instead of marching right in.

This'd be just fine, right?

It was just an apartment.

[ooc: For that one guy, pls.]

Some days were more quiet than the rest.

But also, some people had their own take on what a 'quiet day' actually entailed. For Octavia, this particular 'quiet day' had meant staying in after her morning patrol - and spending the next few hours with her drum set. But, see, it hadn't been the aggressively loud banging she usually went for. She'd actually taken care, this time, putting more of her focus and effort into the interplay of the different parts of the set and the multitasking inherent in getting her limbs to do different things at the same time, and less on just hitting things as hard as she could.

(What a difference it made when you weren't using an instrument for free therapy, right?)

And by now, she'd just... stopped. She was still sitting there, on her little stool behind the kit, the sticks still held in one of her hands. But she was listening to her stereo as it played some Elliott Smith, and just thinking. She wasn't worrying about anyone's absence (even if she was yet to see Liam back), and she wasn't feeling particularly worried about anything else, either. At most, she just felt vaguely hopeful. Curious, even, about what the near future would bring.

Was this what being calm was like?

What a weird thing, especially after the past couple of months. Octavia had no reason to think it would stick around, but still, it was nice of it to drop by, if only for one quiet day.

[ooc: Open, natch.]

Octavia was not enjoying herself this week. She was grateful that Shunsui had told her he had to go back home for a while, of course: just having him vanish would've been worse. But not by a lot, because he also hadn't been able to say when he'd be back, and also she had to really focus on thinking it was a 'when' and not an 'if'.

A warrior didn't worry about what she couldn't control, but Octavia wasn't very good at that. So this week had been one of those ones where she put all her energy towards distracting herself. It had meant several trips to the preserve, and a fair bit of time spent in her bedroom, sitting behind her drum kit - which was also where Saturday afternoon found her. Currently, she was working with a song that the music app on her phone had coughed up based on what else she'd been listening to lately. And she was just... playing with it, going back and forth between mimicking the simple beat that was already there, and improvising her own thing. Didn't really matter what she did, whether she nailed anything, whether it sounded any good, because this was all just for her.

And it was good. This was good.

Maybe she'd do this until her shoulders and arms were sore.

[ooc: Open, though you might have to be prepared to knock for a while!]

Octavia had gone to bed exhausted last night. She'd pretty much come home, set all her presents down (how were there so many?) and promptly faceplanted onto her bed, passing out almost instantly into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

And then suddenly, it was morning, and she woke to the light coming from the window because closing the curtains hadn't really been a priority last night. It was kind of a struggle, but eventually, her eyes blinked open. Bleary, at first, but slowly focusing - and she saw the pile of presents across the room. Still there. Some part of her had been expecting them not to be, somehow. Like the party had been a dream and now it was time to wake up.

The first sob took her by surprise.

By the second, her vision was blurry again, and by the third, she'd scrambled up into a more sitting position, her hand - still too big to feel entirely like hers - pressed tight over her mouth so at least she wouldn't make a sound while the tears streamed down her cheeks.

'Exhausted' in the evening apparently turned into 'overwhelmed' in the morning.

[ooc: Open, should you be in the apartment or have a reason to come knocking!]

Today was a weird day. Octavia knew that didn't really mean much on this island, but some days packed enough of different kinds of unusual into themselves that calling them weird seemed merited. And between the insomnia, the coffee shop trip where everyone she ran into was a woman regardless of whether they were that usually, the onsen and the ensuing Thai dining with Shunsui... Look, even if it wasn't weird as such, in general, it was still pretty unusual for her specifically.

And now Duke was supposed to come over to get his newly longer hair braided.

So that was new.

Octavia hadn't done a whole lot to prepare for it. She had a hair brush and some hair ties ready, sure, and she'd cleared out some of Bellamy's stuff from around the couch, but other than that, the biggest thing was that she'd asked him to clear out for a while. With how uncomfortable Duke had been this morning, she didn't need any kind of a big brother scene happening. Not tonight. And miraculously, it had actually worked, possibly because she'd dragged her upcoming birthday into it.

And now, alone again, she waited.

[ooc: For that guy with the hair! And SP.]

Octavia didn't really know much about cooking. On the Ark, it had been all rations all the time, and then on the ground she hadn't really been involved in the preparing of meals. And the kind of things they'd made on the ground probably would've barely counted as 'cooking' by present day standards, anyway.

But today, Octavia grown tired of takeout and prepackaged meals. And they had a kitchen, so, probably no harm in at least trying, right? And it had seemed like a good idea to start with something she at least knew she (and Bellamy, too) actually liked. So, she'd looked up a supposedly 'quick and easy' recipe for pizza crust, then gone into town to get everything she needed for the dough, and also various toppings.

And, of course, she'd enlisted Bellamy to help her. Or at least stand in the kitchen with a beer in hand. His choice, really.

So far, things had been going okay. The first step had been just to dissolve sugar and yeast into some water and then let it sit for a while. Easy. Ditto for mixing in flour, salt, and oil. Octavia was getting the hang of measuring ingredients, at least, which somehow felt like a win. She also wasn't half bad at mixing them!

However.

"Now we're supposed to 'beat until smooth'," she said, frowning at the recipe that was open on Bellamy's phone. (She probably really needed to buy a phone of her own. But it just seemed so unnecessary.) "... What does that even mean?"

[ooc: For the broooo. And SP. So much SP.]

Octavia was a raccoon.

This was not a new thing. Oh, no. Octavia had actually been a raccoon handwavily for about a month now.

At first, she'd been freaking out a lot. Running around the apartment and generally acting anxious. But, that had been weeks ago. By now... Well, she just had to trust that this would end at some point. Right? That's what Bell kept telling her anyway, that this was a thing that happened on the island sometimes and that she just had to tough it out.

Just like she did everything else.

So, Octavia was a raccoon. And currently, she was a raccoon who was sniffing around the refridgerator door.

[ooc: For the bro! Yeah hi I'm alive. Ish. Slooowly making my way back to all my characters, omg.]

Showers.

Showers were something Octavia thought she could get used to, out of the things she'd so far experienced on this Earth. Even if running water also felt very much like a luxury she shouldn't take for granted or indulge too much in, so she didn't allow herself to stand under the spray forever. She was quickly in and out but still, the short while spent with clean water soaking her hair and washing her clean while the sound of it turned into pleasant white noise in her ears... That short while was something important. It was a relief.

And once she was done, she put the same clothes back on.

Or at least that was what she'd done every day so far. Today, she'd taken one of Bellamy's shirts instead, and a pair of shorts that were too big on her before she fashioned a makeshift belt out of a bit of leather cord she'd had in one of her jacket pockets. And then she'd soaked all her clothes in the sink before hanging them up to dry.

Was that the first step to accepting that she wasn't going home anytime soon? Probably not. It was just that she'd been here for days and her clothes had started to smell. It was just being smart.

And now she was in the kitchen, looking into cupboards. Not that she was even hungry. It was just that being here, everything was new to her. She hadn't been out around the town much, yet. Not during daytime, anyway. When it was light out, she was here. Reading the sides of cereal packets and trying to understand what people saw in the television and its seemingly endless stream of noise. And staying close to Bellamy, like he might disappear if she didn't. Like she was worried two Blakes would be too much for one place and he'd get yanked back home and she'd be the one stuck here alone.

And despite this hermiting, she had not told Bellamy a whole lot about what had been going on with her over the time he'd been gone, yet. Give it time.

[ooc: For the bro, should he so wish.]