[ shiro follows the point, spots the corn, blinks hard and fuck it, the absurdity of the alleged likeness startles a laugh out of him. it doesn’t erase the last half hour of his horrid time here at the circus, true, but it helps rip him from his own wallowing. he’s grateful for that. grateful for keith; not that it shows, because in the next moment he turns back to keith and claps his hand, gently, on his head, roughly ruffling his bangs down into his face.

his voice is fond though. ]

Looks nothing like me, punk. [ and then he ditches harassing keith’s hair. he turns away and looks around the immediate area, checking the rows of stands on either side of the thoroughfare. ]

Imagine waking up in the middle of the night and seeing that in the corner of your room. [ creepy, to say the least. he exaggerates a shudder, grinning. ] That’ll be a hard pass from me. Thanks.

[ neon colored ponies. inflatable guitars and plastic icecream cones. purple monkeys. ladybug bean bags. tigers, penguins, cows -- there’s so many brightly colored animal plushies tied to wired walls and hanging from suspended bars. and games, so many games. ]

So how about… [ ball and bucket toss has terrible prizes. basketball is a bust. gone fishing has similarly dismal prizes. not that it matters. he doesn’t care what keith wins him. it’s not like he actually wants a plushie to take back to the apartment, that's just silly -- ]

Oh. Heh. [ and there, two stands down and to the right, there’s a plush hanging above what looks to be balloons and throwing knives. well shit, maybe he does want a plushie. ]