keith. [ * * * * * ] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
synchronized) wrote2017-10-13 08:49 am
synchronized) wrote2017-10-13 08:49 am
open post.
TEXT | AUDIO | VIDEO | PROMPTS
TEXT | AUDIO | VIDEO | PROMPTS
TEXT | AUDIO | VIDEO | PROMPTS
TEXT | AUDIO | VIDEO | PROMPTS
no subject
Young, then. Young, maybe rich. Entitled, but still with a temper. Probably gets in trouble in his courses because he's either smarter than everyone else or thinks he is. Either way, he can work with this. He knows how to work with it; he'd helped Keith when they were back at the Garrison, even if it'd been more mutual help than anything else. Keith helped him loosen up, helped him drop his walls and Shiro helped him open up to other people. They balanced each other.
That's - that's not for her, though. He shuts down that train of thought before she can grasp it, if she is in his head. Instead, he listens. Frowns. Altean, Galra, it doesn't really matter. Maybe there's a translation error, but it doesn't seem like it. Whatever the Galra is upset about, he can hold onto that. Use it as a weakness. Shiro files it away and sinks back into his corner, eating the last of the grapes nonchalantly. It's popped into his mouth withe a little hum, clearly meant to work him up. He'd normally bide his time but if the Galra wants to attack, well. He's not spoiling for a rematch but he would.
Of course. That goes to shit the moment he takes off that helmet. Shiro freezes in places and hates it, hates himself for being so transparent. Keith isn't touched by Haggar's illusions often because he can normally protect those memories from that. He keeps certain things to himself, tries to make sure they're not seen as too valuable. Apparently, his little bit of thinking was enough. The mask gets removed and it's Keith under it, which means his prior thought was right. This is a test. He knows how to pass. No reaction, nothing but fury, calm fury. ]
Get out. You can't convince me you're him; not again.
no subject
[ keith doesn't hesitate in closing the distance between them, this time, gloved hand taking hold of the human's crest as he pushes him flat against the wall. he's used to sparring with galra twice this man's size; keith doesn't have to work too hard to slam him back, but his anger makes him careless. the walls are rough, he knows - they'll abrade the soft porous human skin, just as keith knows it would on his own skin. good, he thinks. it'll sting. the man deserves it for the insult. ]
You crashed into outpost. You killed people with your ship - good people, with families and children. Father wanted you dead, and you should've been - you ungrateful human. We have been good to you. We healed you, fed you, kept you clean.
Whatever the Alteans offered you or your people, it's not worth it. They'll destroy your homes. They'll enslave your people, brainwash them if they can't be coerced to serve.
[ keith wishes he had claws. wishes he had sharper canines, stronger muscles, longer bones. he grips the man by the jaw and matches the man's furious stare with one of his own - it's only kolivan's standing orders of keeping this prisoner alive that keeps keith from truly lashing out with deadly force. ]
You clearly don't need non-cogs to be a slave. You sold yourself to them, didn't you? For what?
[ he's leaking salt again. why is he so angry? is it because this man is human, and so clearly under altean control? are the rest of the humans on the empire's side? this has to be why thace wouldn't let him see this prisoner.
even when keith's a full-fledged blade, he's still being protected. he can't stand it. ]
If you are what humans are like, then I don't want to be human like you.
no subject
The thing wearing Keith's face stalks forward and slams him to the wall, drags him against it. The pain feels real - more real than it normally does when she does this. He closes his eyes, barely listening and tries to focus against it. There are things that are always...wrong when she does this to him. There's no smell, no taste, no feeling, not really. It's like everything is muted, like a dream.
He can feel this, though. There's pain. There's the taste of grapes in his mouth, unfamiliar. There's the smell of Keith, this close, warm and familiar but different enough he knows that something is off.
Fear crawls through him, something awful he hasn't felt in ages. Whatever she's done, whatever trick this is, it's too real. Does she want him to fight and kill him? He's never done it before, but he doesn't know what she wants. Worse: Keith's eyes well up, tears shining in them. It's too real - it's too real and he hates it. ]
Stop-- [ It's choked out in English this time, the fear evident in his voice, hands trembling. He can't, he won't. He won't kill him, even this illusion of him. ] You have what you want, you don't need me to do this, I won't, I won't--
no subject
keith's confusion is told so plainly on his face now, and in his uncertainty his grip on the man loosens, lets go of the man's jaw entirely as he draws back. ]
I don't understand your speech. Are you apologizing?
[ this doesn't seem like a good idea anymore. he's gotten enough information out of the man to be useful; the prisoner number, whatever mission kerberos is, the man's name at the very least could point them in a useful direction. that he understands galra would be a relief as well, on top of a warning to the man's guards not to talk about security measures around him.
but why is the human in distress like this? why are his hands shaking? keith had taken powerful hits from this man, as well - clearly he isn't fazed by keith's fighting skills. he'd had seen him take on galra bigger than himself and win.
a small whine escapes from him. keith's trained nose catches a whiff of bitter sourness in the air, tell-tale scents of fear. unsure of what else to do, keith pets the man on his crest, carding through the fine white hairs. ]
Be at peace... [ he offers awkwardly. ] I just want to know. Are you really human?
no subject
It's jarring to feel fear at the idea of losing Keith, even if he's not real. He wants it to be - wants more than anything else, but there's no possible way. Keith's home at the Garrison. Keith would know him. This is a trick, it has to be some sort of trick, and he won't fall for it.
Maybe, if he kills the illusion this will stop. Maybe Haggar wants him to let this go, but killing the ghost is what stops it. For a moment, he dares consider it. It wouldn't take much; his arm is strong enough and a quick enough strike would end it.
But it's Keith.
Keith's always been his biggest weak spot. The hand holding him releases and he can see the distress written on his face in return, hears the whine and that doesn't make sense. Why is he stopping? None of this follows any of the ways that things have happened before and he can't wrap his mind around it. Worse: Keith strokes a hand through his hair, clearly trying to soothe him now. Shiro flinches back from it, pressing himself flat against the wall, shuddering. ]
Tell Haggar I'm not-- I won't play these games. She can't make me kill you. Tell her I'll sooner kill her than help the Galra hurt anyone else.
no subject
[ never mind the implied threat of killing him; keith has confidence in his own skills, knows that if it comes to it he's not going down so easily. and even if he's incapacitated or killed, the man can't get too far - the hallway may be mostly empty now that this human's the only captive in holding, but right outside is a whole unit of fighters, armed and ready for deployment.
no, what concerns keith right now is that the human may possibly be insane.
just great, he thinks in frustration. the first human he's ever met, and he's suffering from mind sickness thanks to whatever torture and experiments the alteans had put him through. keith lets out another, more angry whine, as the man moves away from his touch in favor of the wall. ]
There is no Haggar here. This is the Blade of Marmora, we fight for the resistance. We're fighting against the Empire, not for it.
[ What did they do to this man? keith reaches out again, carefully and hesitantly, brushing his knuckles against his cheek. ]
If you talk to us, we could help you. I could help you.
no subject
[ He spits it out because anger is better than fear. Anger's kept him alive, kept him fighting these long months and he won't-- he won't let this, or her break him. It's easier, when Keith, no, no, when it moves back. Shiro doesn't have anywhere to go and he knows that he's baring all of his fears and insecurities in one fell swoop but Haggar knows this about him already. He's always been soft for Keith. Keith's always been his breaking point.
The next part, though - that makes him hesitate. Haggar's never mentioned the Blade. He'd never heard of them, not until the Galra on the ship had rescued him. Patched him up enough to get him moving, and then died saving him. Shiro'd taken the blade because it seemed important but the Galra (God, he never got his name--) had mentioned that. The translators had picked up the Galra and translated it loosely, roughly into the Blade of Marmora. There was no direct translation for Marmora, so he assumed it was something like a deity, or a clan.
Hope isn't something he's felt often, but he'd be a fool to ignore this and not mention it. ]
The ship. There's a blade under the pilot's seat. The Galra who rescued me said he belonged to the Blade.
[ If-- and God, it's a big if, if this is real, he--
You crashed into outpost. You killed people with your ship - good people, with families and children.
He's killed countless people before. Innocents, to save his own life, but never-- not like that. ]
no subject
just like that, some of the bigger missing pieces fall into place - how the man found the outpost when it wasn't even registered yet on most of the internal navigation codes, why his arm is galra. it's more detail than they've ever managed to get out of the man since they stuck him in this room. this revelation decides it.
keith straightens and nods at the man. takash... shiro. shiro's easier. ]
Thank you for telling me.
[ he unlatches the pouch on his belt and places it in shiro's hands; it's not quite a peace offering, or a consolation, but it's a decent enough thank you for the information. at least keith's not coming out of this empty-handed - even if the information he's gotten answers absolutely none of the questions he came here. keith pulls on his hood and releases his mask, gives the man one last look before he steps out of the cell. ]
I hope I'll see you again.
[ keith doesn't see him again, however.
he doesn't see or hear from the captive for a while - in fact, he's been grounded. he's on 'recovery suspension', officially, a status reserved for the severely injured and unable to fight, which shames keith in every possible way. it's his punishment for breaking the rules; even his guardian thace had insisted on it, had made the recommendation to kolivan himself. the only reason he's not completely off-duty is the fact that his information on the human had actually checked out.
they contacted an engineer from the resistance to help with the ship - they hadn't been able to open it with the tech they had available in the outpost, and there's reason for concern in using brute force to trigger the ship to open. the worm-like engineer - slav - had worked out a safe means to unlock the ship's security system, and after finding no traps or hidden bombs, as well as disabling the ship's entire communications system, the blades set to work on taking the ship apart.
finding the blade was easy enough - and it is one of their own, but the mysteries had compounded from that point on, because it was ulaz's blade. ulaz, who was still in possession of his own blade, neatly holstered to his hip when he himself found it under the pilot's seat.
an alternate reality, slav had said in an excited flurry, his heavy accent slurring the words even further. the blade and the ship contain traces of quintessence with a different molecular signature from our known universe, with the quantum anomalies of a worm hole. it's a marvelous discovery! he's from another reality!
none of it made much sense to keith, but the bio-organic data they downloaded from the blade's galra ID system leave no doubt. in the absence of evidence pointing otherwise, they have to accept slav's conclusion: the alien in holding is telling the truth.
the blades don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing just yet, but it does get thace talking to keith again.
-
he's still suspended, however. he's restricted from entering the hangars, restricted from the war rooms, and his access to the fighter barracks and training floors have all been curfewed. it's driving keith up a wall from a lack of anything useful to do, to the point that he's started volunteering at the data library just to keep himself busy.
that's how he meets the human again - shiro, keith reminds himself. while shiro is mostly unrestrained, his galra arm is cuffed with a negator and his ankle is ringed by a tracking device, precautions keith can't help but agree with. interestingly, he looks— rested. somewhat. keith finishes off the bashla biscuit he's got sticking out of his mouth and continues to stare. ]
They let you out.
no subject
He's locked in the room for another few days and talked to by various members of this group. One of them looks jarringly like the Galra that rescued him; Shiro recoils from him when he walks past the room, once, stomach dropping to his feet.
Every day that passes brings the joint wonderful-awful knowledge that this might be real. Despite everything, this may be real. There's no Haggar or Druids here. No torture, no fighting. It's the longest he's gone without either to the point that he doesn't know what to do with himself when he's not fighting for his life. He works out, instead. An assortment of push ups, pullups, everything he can think of to exhaust his body so his mind will rest. Now that they know he can understand them at least passably, they try to talk to him again, but he doesn't do more than vaguely entertain it, offering one-word answers.
Keith doesn't come back. The thing wearing his face is still gone. Maybe, it was a hallucination.
It doesn't matter; he doesn't dare ask, and in time, he's told that he's allowed to the common areas of their base. He's given a room with an actual bed. A room that locks. He's given a shower and spends a solid hour in it, curled in a ball under the hot water, shivering. He's given access to food: he squirrels that away in his room, in pouches on his belt. He's given a change of clothes - Galra issue, but this doesn't make his skin crawl. It's draped loose and comfortable. There's no armor to give it form, but the silks against his skin feel positively luxurious after the scratch of his jumpsuit.
He learns the exits and entrances where he can; the Galra around him know he's casing the place but no one stops him. It's entirely by accident that he runs into Keith the next time he's on a walk, counting Galra in here to try and see how many he'd have to fight to get out, trying to track patterns.
Keith stops and stares and before he can stop himself, Shiro touches a hand to his face awkwardly. He'd shaved off the scruff that'd grown in. He hasn't cut his hair, but it's freshly washed, piled in a knot on top of his head, the streak of white obvious but not as jarring any longer when he looks at himself. The updated translator does some good; Shiro can speak English and it's transferred into Galran, but he sticks to Galran for the time being. Better to perfect it now if it's the most common language out there. ]
My story checked out. I have a shadow, but now I get a room and somewhat free reign.
no subject
[ now that shiro is clean and mostly groomed, keith can see the distinctive human traits he presents more clearly. the angular jaw he has is so different from keith's own, as are the slant of his eyes compared to keith's. his skin is darker by a shade or two, but it's also a different undertone - a fascinating aspect, when keith considers that the galra have varying hues and striping or spotting as well. outside of the prison clothes, shiro actually looks... good.
strong. sturdy. like a warrior worthy of notice among the galra. even shiro's height is acceptable enough, even if he's somewhat on the short side of the galran average. keith bats away at the momentary spike of envy; this is neither the time nor the place for juvenile thoughts and insecurities.
keith unwinds his braid from around his neck, lets it fall down his back in a slow swing. soon he'll have to cut it to a more acceptable length; kolivan lets him keep it out of respect for thace's paternal instincts, but favoritism is a plague when it's among the ranks, and keith doesn't want to add another mark against him. keith sighs. both thace and ulaz had left to investigate the ship's parts where any accidents won't risk the blades' headquarters.
he resents that he couldn't go, but at the same time... ]
Do you want to sit? [ he deftly pulls up a chair for himself, only to use it as a stepping stool so he could sit on the table. ] I still have a lot more questions if you're willing to talk with me.
no subject
Somehow, that's also not a comfort.
The Galra shadow he's picked up seems to drift off, content enough that he's got another Blade watching him so it leaves just him and Keith there and idly, Shiro wonders if he has sway here or if it's just that they assume Shiro hasn't tried to do anything so he's less of a threat and more of a nuisance needing watched.
It still makes his skin crawl, being around all the Galra, but they haven't hurt him.
Gingerly, he takes a chair and looks at him - takes in the sight of him in the Blade clothing and thinks how. ]
I don't have anything else to do, so.