ᴋᴇɪᴛʜ (
balancingedge) wrote in
melodiesofeternity2018-10-23 11:36 pm
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Entry tags:
even more 🎂
Who: Keith and open~
When: October 22nd and 23rd
Where: Voltron and Friends' House, Arito, Curti Center
What: Practicing his skills and a very chill birthday
Warnings/Notes: Nightmares of death in the first prompt.
i. nightmares and rest in pieces, training dummy. (@ Curti Center, house B-02, 10/22)
[The night before he had nightmares of Blades lying in a massive heap surrounding a small child clinging to a small toy. He'd nearly woken up with a start; he'd recognized every single individual except the child. His mother and Kolivan were among them, and he had to look at the blade resting on his nightstand and its still glowing jewel to calm down. Only a dream. It wasn't real like the warmth behind him; arms wrapped around him and breath so quiet that if he hadn't felt it on the back of his neck or the way the other's chest rose and fell against him, he would wonder if it was there at all.
It lured him back to sleep, yet the image stuck with him even after waking again. Kolivan in particular had looked as though he'd been tortured and starved for weeks. Yet the blade in his hand told a different tale at least in one aspect of the dream. The Dream Width could seal away his ability to use it's awakened form, but it couldn't take away that shared connection his mother's blade held with her as well.
And like so many other times when he couldn't think straight, he went outside and raised his knife as he sank into a practiced stance. He eyes the dummy for a brief second, regarding it before allowing instinct to take free reign. A clear-cut jab to the abdomen from below, pointed upward and twisting. A slash across the dummy's neck- where the jugular and carotid would have been sliced clean open if the head did not come clean off. Another slash going up from below where the left arm ought to be, and he would have severed the nerves and main arteries to it. If this were real.
It continued for ten minutes, repeating the same movements over and over. He would have to repair it later; would give his hands something to do. Things around him became crystal clear and he noticed he'd gained an audience, yet he does not stop. There is no wasted movement; each strike measured and precise. It may only be a striking dummy, but against a living target each attack could have been lethal. Were it a true fight and the foe had failed to block or side-step, they would have been dead at the first strike with the knife.
Yet as he sheathed the knife behind him once more, it hit him why he needed this in the first place. This entire month had been an interesting ride. The pranks, the flirting, having been separated from his team and stuck with members of the Phantom Thieves and another similar group, not to mention the other two and that annoying moogle in the middle of a haunted forest. What wasn't to love about it? Ah, and the dolls. Perhaps that's what brought it out: his third-greatest fear. He may be the leader of Voltron, but he is a Blade as well. The thought of losing his mother after having only finding her again had been too much. Yet as he stabbed and slice, the glow never faltered. It's enough to prove to him that they're both alive. They're all alive.
It was just a dream.
He wipes the sweat from his brow, exhaling a sigh before he looks over to whoever heard the commotion in the shared housing block. Had the sound of metal scraping against wood and stone woke them? It was still early in the morning, but he needed to get it out before the flight back to Arito. There were plans for his birthday tomorrow.]
Ah- Did I wake you? [There's a spark of sincere apology in eyes that had been focused on their target not ten seconds ago.] Sorry about that. I'll be quieter next time.
ii. all around town (Arito, 10/23, open)
[Lance had been right about one thing: you share things with friends- family he corrects in his head. If he said it aloud said right hand would likely either die at the thought or tease him mercilessly for it. Like a younger brother, he guessed. He hadn't had a family for quite some time; they'd become his at some point between the antics and arguments.
Which is why they're out as a group on the twenty-third, wandering the city of Arito and doing whatever they damn well felt like this afternoon. The birthday boy didn't care; he's just glad for the company. Yes, even Lance's. Though a brief thought of being stuck with him for an eternity made him second guess that for a split second. Probably a really terrible joke on his part.]
iii. a quiet evening (10/23, closed)
[But after the excitement of the last several hours, it was good to be back in their little bases of operation in the desert city. Both Black Paladins had claimed the couch for movies, snacks they'd picked up at the store on the way back either on the table or the kitchen counter. No one felt like fixing something up at the moment. He doesn't blame them; of the group, Adrien needs to Learn more than he does, Shiro is a lethal chef if it isn't over a campfire (sometimes even then), Keith only remembers recipes of his pop's from his mom, and Lance is a bit better than that having grown up the youngest of who knows how many. Whiiich... left Marinette and Pidge, and he had no idea how good Pidge was and didn't bother asking.
Especially because someone had just invaded his personal space bubble and he's surprisingly fine with that, leaning on his oldest friend and boyfriend. Don't mind them, guys. You guys already had the cake.]
When: October 22nd and 23rd
Where: Voltron and Friends' House, Arito, Curti Center
What: Practicing his skills and a very chill birthday
Warnings/Notes: Nightmares of death in the first prompt.
i. nightmares and rest in pieces, training dummy. (@ Curti Center, house B-02, 10/22)
[The night before he had nightmares of Blades lying in a massive heap surrounding a small child clinging to a small toy. He'd nearly woken up with a start; he'd recognized every single individual except the child. His mother and Kolivan were among them, and he had to look at the blade resting on his nightstand and its still glowing jewel to calm down. Only a dream. It wasn't real like the warmth behind him; arms wrapped around him and breath so quiet that if he hadn't felt it on the back of his neck or the way the other's chest rose and fell against him, he would wonder if it was there at all.
It lured him back to sleep, yet the image stuck with him even after waking again. Kolivan in particular had looked as though he'd been tortured and starved for weeks. Yet the blade in his hand told a different tale at least in one aspect of the dream. The Dream Width could seal away his ability to use it's awakened form, but it couldn't take away that shared connection his mother's blade held with her as well.
And like so many other times when he couldn't think straight, he went outside and raised his knife as he sank into a practiced stance. He eyes the dummy for a brief second, regarding it before allowing instinct to take free reign. A clear-cut jab to the abdomen from below, pointed upward and twisting. A slash across the dummy's neck- where the jugular and carotid would have been sliced clean open if the head did not come clean off. Another slash going up from below where the left arm ought to be, and he would have severed the nerves and main arteries to it. If this were real.
It continued for ten minutes, repeating the same movements over and over. He would have to repair it later; would give his hands something to do. Things around him became crystal clear and he noticed he'd gained an audience, yet he does not stop. There is no wasted movement; each strike measured and precise. It may only be a striking dummy, but against a living target each attack could have been lethal. Were it a true fight and the foe had failed to block or side-step, they would have been dead at the first strike with the knife.
Yet as he sheathed the knife behind him once more, it hit him why he needed this in the first place. This entire month had been an interesting ride. The pranks, the flirting, having been separated from his team and stuck with members of the Phantom Thieves and another similar group, not to mention the other two and that annoying moogle in the middle of a haunted forest. What wasn't to love about it? Ah, and the dolls. Perhaps that's what brought it out: his third-greatest fear. He may be the leader of Voltron, but he is a Blade as well. The thought of losing his mother after having only finding her again had been too much. Yet as he stabbed and slice, the glow never faltered. It's enough to prove to him that they're both alive. They're all alive.
It was just a dream.
He wipes the sweat from his brow, exhaling a sigh before he looks over to whoever heard the commotion in the shared housing block. Had the sound of metal scraping against wood and stone woke them? It was still early in the morning, but he needed to get it out before the flight back to Arito. There were plans for his birthday tomorrow.]
Ah- Did I wake you? [There's a spark of sincere apology in eyes that had been focused on their target not ten seconds ago.] Sorry about that. I'll be quieter next time.
ii. all around town (Arito, 10/23, open)
[Lance had been right about one thing: you share things with friends- family he corrects in his head. If he said it aloud said right hand would likely either die at the thought or tease him mercilessly for it. Like a younger brother, he guessed. He hadn't had a family for quite some time; they'd become his at some point between the antics and arguments.
Which is why they're out as a group on the twenty-third, wandering the city of Arito and doing whatever they damn well felt like this afternoon. The birthday boy didn't care; he's just glad for the company. Yes, even Lance's. Though a brief thought of being stuck with him for an eternity made him second guess that for a split second. Probably a really terrible joke on his part.]
iii. a quiet evening (10/23, closed)
[But after the excitement of the last several hours, it was good to be back in their little bases of operation in the desert city. Both Black Paladins had claimed the couch for movies, snacks they'd picked up at the store on the way back either on the table or the kitchen counter. No one felt like fixing something up at the moment. He doesn't blame them; of the group, Adrien needs to Learn more than he does, Shiro is a lethal chef if it isn't over a campfire (sometimes even then), Keith only remembers recipes of his pop's from his mom, and Lance is a bit better than that having grown up the youngest of who knows how many. Whiiich... left Marinette and Pidge, and he had no idea how good Pidge was and didn't bother asking.
Especially because someone had just invaded his personal space bubble and he's surprisingly fine with that, leaning on his oldest friend and boyfriend. Don't mind them, guys. You guys already had the cake.]
no subject
He considers joking. Nah.]
Now if this stays a romance, there's going to be another kiss. [Maybe implied sex. It's staying R rated in their war so far. But he can tell that there is love there between them now. It's been forged by years of friendship and the violet dragoon is slowing. He assumes judging by the shadows and smoke swirling around him that it's the energy he's fighting against.]
no subject
He almost makes a joke about the violet dragoon needing to lay off on smoking but he stops himself. Another time. Instead he takes a look at the back cover while setting the popcorn bowl on his lap so it's easier to reach. Huh.]
Looks like it just might. [He says, putting it back down on the table and munching on the popcorn. Just as the smoke and shadow begins to abate. Second kiss in three, two, one...]
no subject
He snags the bag of rice crackers as the pair stare into each other's eyes and the scene shifts. The sun is setting, casting deep shadows in the bedroom. His eyebrows shoot up.
Ah. They went there.
It's tastefully done with music that matches the tone of the sunset colors. The scene is over in the usual amount of time affording to this sort of thing as Shiro runs his hand up Keith's back.] What does the back cover say? I got two sentences in before Lance demanded we make a decision on what we were buying.
no subject
He sits up a little straighter at the hand rubbing up his back, distracted just enough to catch that question.] "...When their paths diverge, old feelings grow stronger and the former novice returns to save an old face from himself." Along with what I'm guessing is the usual action/romance bait.
[Said completely straight-faced. Or, more accurately, with the same unimpressed stare his mother would give when she saw a memory of his that involved Lance's mouth running off. He'll think on how he managed that now of all times later.]
no subject
Then we can watch whatever flick we feel like.
no subject
Will have to think of where to set it up. [Hint hint.]
no subject
His smile is a bright flash.]
Unless you have other ideas.
no subject
He smirks back as he cleans off the table and puts the rest of the snacks away in the pantry.]
Not really. [Oh, he might. He just won't say so where they can be overheard. Kosmo's already heading to Pidge's room.]