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Leaning back in his chair, Apollo stretches while giving out a loud yawn. He'd holed himself up in the Sensoriums, leaving the entrance open in case someone really wanted to use them, for a few hours. A large stack of paper was in front of him, and the table and floor around him was littered with various bits of crumpled... No, folded paper. Paper crabs, paper cranes, paper frogs, paper bugs... He's obviously been busy. In his hand, held between two fingers, is the start of another folded paper project.

He looks at the paper and sets it down, leaning over the back of his chair and letting his arms hang loosely for a bit. He's been at this for too long, but somehow the whole 'wait for a crewmember to stop by the most popular part of the ship for a bit of conversation' plan failed. "Maybe I should have tried the cafeteria?"

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Sheik frowns - that sounds rather, well, unwise. "Is that safe?" he asks dubiously.

Apollo nods. "I've been out in space before. And, let's face it, something this big is kind of hard to miss." Besides, if he gets lost, Angie could probably guide him back through radiotelepathy. "I just have to stop breathing, and I'm fine."

Not needing to breathe? "That's a useful skill," he says with a quick grin, "I can... do something like that, but I have to be in an area with a lot of shadows for it. Shadows don't need to breathe."

Shadows and sunlight - they're basically polar opposites, then.

"So you're some kind of spirit or shadow elemental, then?" He raises both eyebrows. He didn't expect to see someone who relied on shadows to be so... blond. That was it. "I wouldn't call it a skill, really. It's just how I am."

He shakes his head. "Not quite. I'm a Sheikah - we are the Shadow Folk, the shadows of the Hylian race. The Hylians are of the light and we are of the shadow, it's a... symbiotic relationship, I suppose."

Like he and Zelda. That's an apt description, actually.

A symbiotic relationship? Between a race of elves and some other race? "Maybe I'm just stupid, but... What do you gain from your relationship?"

Existance. But he doesn't quite answer out loud - instead, he simply shrugs. "It's... complicated to explain," he finally says, "And it isn't really on an individual basis. But on a racial basis, we need each other."

"All right." Apollo waves it off. It's not that important, in the long run. He's never really been that pushy around people, either. "So long as you get what you need, I guess."

"We do," he nods, then settles back down to finish off the star/flower.

There - that looks good. "What do you think?" he asks distractedly, then starts on another.

And, by way of conversation, he asks curiously, "What is your world like, then? Is everyone like you?"

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