improvise. adapt. overcome →

[earthshine]

Who: Takashi Shirogane +
What: Surviving
When: Permanent Log for all (mis)adventures
Where: Town + Nearby Areas

Content Warnings:

‘ghost’ horror; hauntings; death of npcs; (wild) animal attacks; character injury; themes of suicide; themes of depression; feelings of isolation; potential attempted suicide; PTSD triggers; mention of imprisonment; physical violence; body dysmorphia

Comments

are you sure about that

[earthshine]

[ it’s not as though that’s the first time he’s heard keith call him that. sir. he quickly became shiro to keith at galaxy garrison, but there were appearances to keep up. so when they weren’t sneaking to the roof, drag racing in the desert or holing up somewhere to review concepts for upcoming tests, sir and salutes got tossed around far more often. still, the word catches him off guard, making him feel – odd. it’s a callback to a lifetime ago or at least, a time that feels like a past life. altogether, it hasn’t been that long. it’s just… so much has changed that none of it feels as though it belongs to him anymore. not even the memories in his head. the driving force behind all of this, he supposes, is that it comes back to that feeling he can’t shake: he feels like an imposter.

even this continued friendship with keith. neither of them are the versions that they last knew and yet, they pretend that they are still best friends. shiro wonders if or when that will come to a head. at some point, it has to, doesn’t it?

whatever this is, shiro? i’m with you to the end.

this isn’t the time to laugh; shiro almost does, though. he almost does because for every time he tells himself he isn’t enough and that keith isn’t the keith he left behind and that there is something irrevocably mismatched between them… there’s a moment, a comment, or a feeling that reinforces the fact that they are still as in sync with each other as they’ve always been. either way, just as this isn’t the time to laugh, it isn’t the time for deep reflection on the state of their friendship, and so, shiro takes that cue to offer a final: ]

You and me… let’s see this through. Come on.

[ and so they do. together, they survey and avoid the strange happenings through town and make their way to their – thankfully still standing – cabin. there is, however, a very obvious difference. ]

The lights are on.

[ perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised. electricity hasn’t been accessible to them since arrival, but as of now, various homes have been lit up, often with lights flicking on and off. their lights are, amazingly, stable – for now – and so, when shiro gets the door open and walks inside, every bit of the cabin is bathed in light.

it’s eerie.

he pauses just past the threshold, frowning and on edge as he glances around, as though anticipating the catch to this otherwise fortunate turn of events. ]

If the lights work… [ for all his hesitance, he does start walking though. ] I wonder if that means the radio works, too.

[ there are two, actually. whoever lived here was a low-grade hoarder. there are two radios stacked on top of each other in the far corner and unfortunately for them, neither of them bring in anything but static as shiro fiddles with the nobs. well, except for one station that comes in relatively clear. ]

Not what I was going for.

[ he was hoping for news and chatter; anything related to the world outside this snowy wilderness. ]