[ … that’s almost funny. forcing his hand -- get it? forget the idiom, there’s a literal interpretation of this that shiro’s pun-friendly brain appreciates. or would rather, if the play on words wasn’t directed solely on a piece of shiro that he doesn’t particularly like drawing attention to. can he even call it a piece of himself? consent never given, shiro woke up to find this thing attached to him and despite the usefulness it’s served in daily tasks, in voltron, here, it doesn’t quite feel like his own. two separate entities: shiro and the arm, that’s what it’s felt like since the beginning.
he’s rambling. he thought he was past these moments of loathing; now isn’t the time to get caught up on his jigsaw puzzle of a body. and frankly, he doesn’t much want to hear keith's thoughts on seeing him punch through some monster’s abdomen. knowing himself to be ex-champion is daunting enough. having keith privy to how much shiro’s changed from the garrison’s golden boy is… not something he wants to face right now. ever, if he’s honest.
so breezing over this? yes. that seems like a solid plan. ]
I have a feeling it would have come to that either way. [ briefly, his gaze skirts up toward the building remnants, eyeing that heap on the ground. ] They didn’t seem like the type to take no for an answer.
[ us or them. we did what we had to in order to survive. we did nothing wrong. even as he thinks all this, the justifications of going absolutely brutal hold some hollowness to them. he doesn’t regret killing these things, but he doesn’t necessarily enjoy it either. sighing now, he returns his gaze to keith and again, finds himself wondering where keith’s head is in all of this. might as well nip that in the bud, huh? ]
You did well in taking down the other one. [ in the following beat, he sets his expression into something closer to sympathetic and steps closer, setting his left hand on keith’s shoulder. ] It’s different though, from what we're usually fighting… -- it can be a lot to stomach.
[ another beat and a more careful: ] Are you holding up okay?
no subject
he’s rambling. he thought he was past these moments of loathing; now isn’t the time to get caught up on his jigsaw puzzle of a body. and frankly, he doesn’t much want to hear keith's thoughts on seeing him punch through some monster’s abdomen. knowing himself to be ex-champion is daunting enough. having keith privy to how much shiro’s changed from the garrison’s golden boy is… not something he wants to face right now. ever, if he’s honest.
so breezing over this? yes. that seems like a solid plan. ]
I have a feeling it would have come to that either way. [ briefly, his gaze skirts up toward the building remnants, eyeing that heap on the ground. ] They didn’t seem like the type to take no for an answer.
[ us or them. we did what we had to in order to survive. we did nothing wrong. even as he thinks all this, the justifications of going absolutely brutal hold some hollowness to them. he doesn’t regret killing these things, but he doesn’t necessarily enjoy it either. sighing now, he returns his gaze to keith and again, finds himself wondering where keith’s head is in all of this. might as well nip that in the bud, huh? ]
You did well in taking down the other one. [ in the following beat, he sets his expression into something closer to sympathetic and steps closer, setting his left hand on keith’s shoulder. ] It’s different though, from what we're usually fighting… -- it can be a lot to stomach.
[ another beat and a more careful: ] Are you holding up okay?