ᴋᴇɪᴛʜ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
balancingedge) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
melodiesofeternity2018-10-23 11:36 pm
balancingedge) wrote in melodiesofeternity2018-10-23 11:36 pm
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.]
A quiet evening indeed
But not right now. He’d given Keith his birthday gift a black jacket with red edges like the coat he used to wear when he was off duty. The leather straps are darker than his and the fingerless gloves to go with it were custom made. He’d made sure they were decent in their grip. Just like the original pair he gave him all those years ago. He leans against him, resting the side of his head against his. This is their place even if they share it. And he had resolved to be a little more openly affectionate around the others.]
Supposedly, there is a dragoon duel in this one. [He grins a bit too gleefully.] On the back of a giant dragon. Aren’t you glad we grabbed this one?
[They has grabbed a few and a few were suggested. He can bet anything Lance suggested is romance.]
we may need a better definition of "quiet" because action movie but e h . . .
On the plus side: all they need is their hoverbikes and they're set to start racing again.
He settles, briefly eyeing the popcorn but deciding trying it later would be the better option. Especially as Shiro rests his head on his. Instead he watches as he struggles not to grin back a little too feral an edge. Oh, he's glad alright.]
But did they get an actual wyvern, or is it fake?
[Because if the former, damn. That's impressive. If the latter, he could probably understand if a certain two people he knows would be super jealous they're hiding the tech needed to generate it via computer. If it's not a very convincing mech or puppet.
...
And, yes. Two of the three Lance suggested were, in fact, romance dramas. Supposedly there were action scenes in one of them, but that was also the one with moogles on the cover and he passed on picking it up. He had a bad feeling about that one. Like it was suggested as a joke and as payback for the shoe chandelier. Nope, denied.]
heh
[He says without looking away from the screen. The visuals are breathtaking. The filming crew clearly understand to bring across the sense of being a dragoon there has to be emphasis on the surroundings as well as the story. He is starting to suspect the pair are on a collision course of a sort that isn’t action related.
He drops a kiss on Keith’s shoulder as the story turns to one feeling overshadowed by the other. The dragoon in deep purples is the calmer of the two. More guarded. But the tone of his voice gives away how much it hurts that his friend in the standard blues they all know for trainees wants to go far away. He holds Keith a little tighter as the clone’s memory drifts up.
Even now he would let Keith go if he wanted to be far from him. But if he could go with him...]
no subject
The trainee dragoon has a fiery temper that makes him reckless. Huh. That isn't familiar at all. Nor is how the other let their friend go.
Keith's grip tightens slightly as he presses his lips to the top of his head. It's just a movie, Shiro. Even if there are similar beats to their own story. Though now he suspects what will lead to that fight on the back of a dragon. He knows who he is, where he came from and where he belongs. No matter what happens in this reality. He's not going anywhere if he can help it.]
ii
they pass by a bookstore. it dawns on her that ann hasn't gotten keith a birthday gift yet. she taps his shoulder. ]
Hey, random question: Are you into reading?
no subject
[He'd seen the bookstore before; he'd eyed a couple of the books on display in the window but never really bothered going in to pick one out. Not after the shenanigans with Sven and that other moogle elsewhere. He needs to change that at some point.]
no subject
The dragoon gets taken by the shadows in his own head. The other begins his rise from angry young man to a blazing star in the heavens. Shiro partly turns to Keith and gathers him into his arms. He steals a kiss and looks back as the calmer dragoon becomes a force that sweeps across the land.
Controlled by the shadows his armor turns a deep shade of violet.] ...not what I expected out of this movie. ...Keith. [He strokes the scar on his boyfriend’s face like he has so many times. Just as the wyvern roars.]
no subject
Something that was almost ironic to think of and then see happen to a character in a movie. He's pulled from his thoughts when he feels Shiro pull him closer, He turns partly in time just to feel lips brush against his and he can tell where Shiro's thoughts are. Whether the wyvern was real or not, he couldn't say. His gaze is fixed on his boyfriend's face. He's tempted to pause the movie.]
...How much of the back cover did you read? [He asks, leaning up to press his lips gently over the scar running over his boyfriend's nose. It hurts, but sometimes one has to think through the darker parts of memories or the ghosts nag incessantly. He lets him and waits.]
no subject
He leans up and kisses Keith’s forehead.] I’m alright. It just surprised me.
[He turns the movie back on. As predicted the other dragoon learns of his friend seemingly going mad and comes back. Clad in black armor he seems made of the night itself. Their battle takes his breath away. Flashes in his mind’s eye of Keith moving with precision and matching him step for step dance match the fight.
The field of battle is different. The back of the wyvern is smaller than the facility. He can see where the director did their homework and where they fell short. But the battle itself is spot on. The dance of spears and leaps catches him off guard. So does the kiss that is all passion and desperate love and he blinks.] ...really not enough of it.
no subject
He isn't sure if he buys it, but he nods anyway.] Just wanted to be sure.
[He lets it go and settles again to watch the movie, immediately taken in by the fight choreography. He can see where it falters slightly and where it's obvious they had to do another take - feet don't bend that way, even on the back of a draconic being. Tomorrow they'll have to spar again-
He blinks at the two characters kissing, and he can't help himself.] I feel like we skipped a few scenes.
[He'd reach for the popcorn, but he's happily trapped right now.]
no subject
I think he missed the memo too. [The violet dragoon grips his spear and surges forward in a classic thrust of his weapon. But the other dodges it, spinning away. But the formerly calmer dragoon is off balance. He's begging the other to give in. To stop fighting. To give him up for dead.
He'd reached for this and read some of the back of it to escape the joke recommendation. He's not sure he made mistakes. The romance angle had just caught him by surprise.]
no subject
He takes the bowl of popcorn and munches on it as the dragoon who formerly had such a strong temper refuses to give up on the other. It's almost comical now. He's trying really, really hard not to laugh as he slides the rice cakes into reach for Shiro. He's somewhat failing; his shoulders are shaking slightly. I'ts obvious that he didn't see this spin coming either, but damn, he doesn't mind it. This movie's gone from "uncomfortable parallels" to "just silly" in his mind and he is fine with this development.]
Somehow I get the feeling this is better than the joke option Lance tried to push. [He'll have to thank him later for pushing Shiro to picking up the first random dragoon "action" film he saw. This is great.]
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
Let's check it out! And if you find something you like, it's on me, yeah?
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
He shrugs.] Sure.
[He gets the feeling that she'll insist if he tries to drag his heels, and it's supposed to be a relaxing day considering even his coworkers insisted he take a day or two off to celebrate. Mostly two because he turned 22 and apparently they all went a bit crazy with the alcohol on the first night they were allowed. A+ right there, he knows better. Thanks, Coran.
He turns toward the bookstore and holds the door open for her.]
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.]