[ how many times is keith going to assure it’s okay and how many times is shiro’s mind going to clap back, no it’s not? he doesn’t want this thing pretending to be an arm. it’s a technological wonder, one far exceeding anything the top engineers on earth have managed, but despite the sleek design and the compatibility of function, it’s a gaudy, horrorish monstrosity. it’s a weapon. time and time again, in the short span that shiro’s been weighed down with this machinery, he’s wished it away. but now that the capabilities may be stripped away from him? now that it may resemble something closer to an actual arm?
fuck. he’s been lying to himself this whole time.
this upgrade of an arm has carried him through some tough pinches; he can’t refute how useful it is having a literal weapon attached to him. it’s always within reach and he can’t be – heh – disarmed of it, at least not easily. it’s what he’s needed to maintain his winning streak in the ring and what he’s been subconsciously banking his safety on in this unfamiliar, possibly disastrous new reality.
how prepared is he to protect himself? to protect keith? because of course he’s already taken on the responsibility of seeing keith through this, even though keith is a seasoned warrior, too…?
the information dump is dizzying. he follows the words, but locks up on the meanings, because lions and voltron, and princesses and what? between the confusion surrounding his arm, the extent of its current strength, and the progression of keith’s life, shiro wavers between wanting to ask questions and to simply turn his focus elsewhere, to balling that metal fist to try punching through one of the nearby statues. is this arm strong enough to do that anymore?
the pulsing is back in his temples and the ache between his shoulder blades, up all the way to the top notch of his spine; it hurts to exist in the moment and god, how melodramatic is that? he sighs to compensate and slowly gathers words. ]
That was… a lot. Let’s go over it again… but slower this time.
[ a gentle shake of his head that neither exasperates nor alleviates the aching and then he’s looking beyond keith, toward the path. ]
And after we’ve moved somewhere… [ safer? more private? ] … that's not here. [ he frowns as he returns his gaze to keith. ] I secured an apartment, let’s go there.
no subject
fuck. he’s been lying to himself this whole time.
this upgrade of an arm has carried him through some tough pinches; he can’t refute how useful it is having a literal weapon attached to him. it’s always within reach and he can’t be – heh – disarmed of it, at least not easily. it’s what he’s needed to maintain his winning streak in the ring and what he’s been subconsciously banking his safety on in this unfamiliar, possibly disastrous new reality.
how prepared is he to protect himself? to protect keith? because of course he’s already taken on the responsibility of seeing keith through this, even though keith is a seasoned warrior, too…?
the information dump is dizzying. he follows the words, but locks up on the meanings, because lions and voltron, and princesses and what? between the confusion surrounding his arm, the extent of its current strength, and the progression of keith’s life, shiro wavers between wanting to ask questions and to simply turn his focus elsewhere, to balling that metal fist to try punching through one of the nearby statues. is this arm strong enough to do that anymore?
the pulsing is back in his temples and the ache between his shoulder blades, up all the way to the top notch of his spine; it hurts to exist in the moment and god, how melodramatic is that? he sighs to compensate and slowly gathers words. ]
That was… a lot. Let’s go over it again… but slower this time.
[ a gentle shake of his head that neither exasperates nor alleviates the aching and then he’s looking beyond keith, toward the path. ]
And after we’ve moved somewhere… [ safer? more private? ] … that's not here. [ he frowns as he returns his gaze to keith. ] I secured an apartment, let’s go there.