takashi shirogane (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
earthshine) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
singillatim2023-09-13 06:03 pm
earthshine) wrote in singillatim2023-09-13 06:03 pm
Entry tags:
improvise. adapt. overcome →
Who: Takashi Shirogane +
What: Surviving
When: Permanent Log for all (mis)adventures
Where: Town + Nearby Areas
Content Warnings:
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
no subject
shiro hasn’t told keith much about his time with the galra. bits and pieces, yes, but nothing too detailed. so he wonders how much keith’s shiro has told him. shiro can’t imagine breathing life into the horrific memories in his head, but maybe in another reality, that shiro has found the strength to do so. is that encouraging? somewhat. it’s also unnerving, because if this keith knows more than shiro realizes he does, what does this keith see when he looks at him?
if shiro’s soaked in blood, then so am i –
keith’s loyalty winds him. it isn’t the first time shiro has been caught off guard by that type of unwavering support, but in those specific words, it shortens his already shallow breath and stills his heart. he’s so goddamn stubborn; shiro both adores and hates him for it. keith should be saving himself, not binding himself to the focal point of this monster’s ire. ]
Keith.
[ it hits no higher than a whisper, harsh and pained as it steals what little breath he has left in his lungs. he doesn’t have words beyond that for what he’s pleading for; for what direction he wants keith to take. all he knows is that he wants keith safe, he wants keith away, he wants keith to be free of that blade and well… soon enough he gets what he desires.
partially.
he swallows a short breath and holds tight, every inch of his bound limbs tensing into stillness again as metal touches his throat. reflex has him arcing his head higher, subsequently elongating his neck but also holding it further away from metal. it doesn’t matter much. the sickle follows after, its curved edge digging in with just enough bite that a swallow too strong will have it piercing skin. a cooler head would have him accessing his options and measuring his breath, but while the panic doesn’t lessen, now that keith is, for the time, safe, shiro finds his way back to bitterness again. ]
I only did what I was ordered to do.
[ so much for his admonishment toward keith and his stubbornness; shiro is just as guilty. it’s folly to argue with someone who so clearly has the upper hand, but shiro’s flaw is his inability to admit defeat. he refuses to play by this thing’s rules; he’s done that once before to terrible ends. case and point: ]
I had no choice. Victory or death. That is their way.
[ not his fault. truthfully, shiro doesn’t absolve himself of guilt. yes, he’s sinful. yes, he may even be wicked, at the very least tainted by wicked deeds. and perhaps he’s made even worse for refusing to admit as much to this psycho. ]
A̶̛̼͈͕̠̘̘̭̬̓̈́͌̄̾͝n̸̨̡̲̝͙̆̋̅̈́͋̏ͅḏ̶̟̭͖̦̣͔̺̲͚̫̃̓̀̌̒̂͆̽͛̀̏̚͝ͅͅ ̴̨̞̌̏̍̒͗͂͐̉͑̋̊̏̑n̸̠̳̞̘̎͋͒̉o̶̜͓̦̜͖͖͍̘̾͛͆̎̏̊̉̐̕͝͝ẅ̸͔̫̣̅̽̒́͆͠ ̸̬͖̹̱̺͚̔̋̕i̵̧̨̡͉͈̪̞̯̱͖̳̻̰̦̭̅̓̋̓̓͗̽̇̋̒́̐͘͝ţ̴̡̧̛̥̥͈̲̦̩̩͉͕͙̺̈́͐͑̔̇̀̍̚̕̚̕͝ ̷͉͔͕͖͓̤̖̹̱̺͇̩͑͆̏h̷̡̻̻̘̳͕̖̠̞͖̻̥̐̄̒̑͊̉̆̂͌͌̄͗͝a̴̧̺͍̖̣̎̓͌̏̅͂̑͒͋̊͜͝ͅs̶̰͚̳̗̋̄͆̅̅͗͊͗̅͒͝ ̵̡̡̙͚̟̜̪͕͔̫͍̳͉̞̐̄͗̀̆̉͒̆͂̂̈͘b̵͛̏́̉͜ȅ̴̖̻̥c̷̛̛̣͍͎̝̍̏̌̋͋̊̂̽͝o̴̢̺͇̽͠m̸̧̭͓̖͉̼̰͙̅̾̓̂̊͊͂̽́̓͒̏͋͠ȅ̶̯̘̈́̉́̓ ̸̨̛͔̙̤̗̜̮͇̬̼͕̘̝̝̼̒̿͌̂͐̽͌͊̑͐͆̉̄͝y̸̲͍͐́̐́͗͜͜ợ̶̡͉̭̗̯̫͚̟̩̭̐̆͂̇͂͆͆̿̓̅͊̆̚͜͜u̴̪̤̜̖͈̺͕͔͎͓̜͎͖̠̚ͅr̵̡̡̟̥̬͚̝̯͚̟̻̫̩̔͐̓͗̓̊̓͑̓͆̄̑́̈́̋ͅś̷̹̬͓̩̳̪̳͈̼̫̩̤̟́͋̏͛̆̏̿̃́́̈́͝.̶̳̩͂̿́̽̑̐̉̆̌̍͘
( And now it has become yours. )
[ shiro doesn’t move a muscle but he feels himself rattling apart from the inside. ]
No! I’m not like them!
[ a slight twist of the wrist and the blade angles lower, below his adam’s apple. ]
Y̶̡͕͂͂̇͛̂͗̊̊̈́͌̏̄͝͝͝ǫ̶̰͔͈̙̮̓̀̓̕u̶̪͖̣͎͚̭͙̦̬̰͑̌̅̐̈́̋̅̓͊͆ ̶̲̬̟̔͐̇͗̅͌͛́̊̈́̓̉͗͝f̴̢͎͂́̈́̀̚a̴̧̧̟͙͖̜̎͂̇́̀̓́̂̏̊́̕͝i̷̯̒ḷ̸̢̨̱̮̯̝̠͈̤̝̼͊̊́̔̉͂̇͌́̀̎̐̚͝͠ ̸̱̩̟̤͓͊́̌̃̋͋̋̆͗͊̕̚ͅt̸̛̜͔̪̺̪̦̯͋͐̌̃͂̾͛̑͒̄o̴̧̭͓͓̙̠͖͍̻͖͉͕͇̭̒͐̀̾̃̆̔͒̎̓̋͛̓͂̒ ̶͉̲̰̙̤͕̱͖̦̞̈́͂̈́̿͋͂͆̽̿͐̎͘͝s̶̛͇̐̃́̿̎͠ę̵̦̻̥̝͎̟̹̱̼̗̊̉̔̌̈́͐̀͜͜͠͠ȇ̸̛̳͖̮͔̘̖̰͇̲̝̫͋͛̒̎̌̍̾́̕ͅ ̸̳̘̙̐̃̈̑̒̈̍̾͌͌͊͠w̴̡̨̢͓͉̭̞̝̭̪̓̀̈́͐̚͝h̸̫̭͈̝̜͈̔͒̓o̴͎͎͓͋̂̆̍̏̍̀͂͑̔͑̕̚̚͝ ̴̢̨̣̺͙̞͔̪͍̫̼̆͒̆̈́͑̐͋͑̌̃̆͌͆̔͝ý̸̛̤̲̻̬̹̤̤̥̿́̊̊͗́̀̈́̿̀o̵̡̮̳͕̜̩͂̆̄̾̃͐̕u̴̧̨̗̟̇̔̓̐͗̅̑͂̈́͠ͅ ̴̤͎͚̜̦͙͖͛͗̈́̿̏͐̐̄̒̉͌̍͜ǎ̸̡̠̐͊͗̊̈́̾̄̎͝͝r̷̩̩̐e̴̛̻̓̅̉̔͊̏̓̽̅̕̚̚…̴̤̠̽̂͆̀͆̽̃̎̈́͋̊̀̽ ̸̨̩͉̣͇͖̥̩̪̬̀̈͆́̀̍̒̋̾̕ͅC̴͉͗̒̊̀͝͠ḧ̵͓̣̩̜̖̭͓͉̬͎́̀̈́͊͌̑͘͘͝ȁ̴̧͙̖̙̩́̈́̈́͘̚͜ͅm̸̹͙̠̲̌p̸̜̖͍̥̣̀̒̂̎̈́͆́́͋͋́̑̉̕i̸̡͎̘͎̭̭͍͎͑̎̌̿̽̍͗͊͋̓̑ǫ̸̨̠̠̞̦̼̜̪͕̍̿͂̑̀͑̍͘ͅn̶̛̯͉̤͂̉͑̅̈́̇̋̏͑̋̕̚͝.̵͚̟̉͒̀̉̐͂͐
̵̻̣̽̅̽͐̓̂̂͝
( You fail to see who you are… Champion. )
[ that gains an instantaneous rise. ]
Shut up!
[ all bark and no bite, though. shiro has no retaliation beyond two words that lack all punch. ]
Y̵͕̳̤̺̣̰̳̪̥̖̤͂̂͐͆̿̐̈́̿͗̚̕͠ͅö̷̧̢̗̼̣̼͓̥́ư̴̺̔͑́́̈̅̀͛͛́̕͠͠ͅr̷̢̡̡̻̻͈̜͙̗͂̉̄̇̈́̀̑̊̕͠ ̷̨̧̮͔͔̠̯̯̼̋̅̃̓̌͜ͅm̵̢͕͈͍̰͎̝̞͎͙̏̃̈́͋͋͊͊̈̄į̴̢͎̣̩̦͒̑̇ͅs̷̮̦̈́̾̆̓͂̐́͂̈̎̏̈́͗d̷̨̛͎͇̰̝͓͔̹̮̐̈́͗͐̈́̾̈̽̑͒̃̕͜e̶̜̣͍̘̞̳̹͈͑́̍͆̑̆̍͗́́̀͝ͅȩ̵̺̦̙̤̼̫̳͔͛̑̈́̾͐͂̓͑͊̍̎̎̈́̒͝d̴̨̜̠̟̫͒̔s̸̱͉͕̲̮̥̪̅̄͐̋̆̓͆̒͋̋̕͝͝ ̷̡̼̙͔͎̗͂̆̚ͅǎ̶̛̺̝̺̬̗̻̜̣̗̖͚̩͑͑̈́̋́͐̽̑͝r̶̛͓̭̟̼̞̬̝͇̘̾̐̇̊͒̃̀̊̾͒̃͗̚ḗ̵̺̬̲ ̴̘̬̖̻͕͙̤́̊͐̑̍̓̊̾͒̈́̄͜m̵̡͕̫͈̟̞̮̰̩̣̮̔͋̿́̐̊̈́͌̃͊͘͠͠ͅả̶̢̢̻̞̬͓̹̲̖̪̋̂͗̈́̐̐̿̅̀͜͠n̵͔̩̳͇͎̽͊y̷̰͓͖͉̦̻̫̩̳̜͙̩̣͔͎͐̑͋͌́̔̿͒͋̈̋̉̓̕̕.̶̛̤̫̼̳͖̹̈͐̓̒̎̈̀͒̚̚̕͝͝ ̶̛͈͈͓̖̹̲͔̺͎͌̉̈̀͊͒̀̍̀̉̈́̆̊T̸̨̲̠͖̱̥̪̬̩̗͔̻͈̈́̋̑̆̎͗͆̊̉͜ḩ̴̺̲͔̲̥̜̮͔̱̞̅̾ȩ̴̧̘͛͊̓̇̽̇͜ ̶̡͙̘͙̠͇̀̄͋̇́͐̆̆͑̒ö̷͈͎̞͈̞͗̍͐̽̏͐͐̌̈́̀̌̈̕n̵̦͌̒̀̈́̾͆̐͝͝l̵̲͙̞͐̽̍̏͌̿̾́̽̅͐͘͘͝͝ŷ̴͍̘̞̹̲̹͌́̉͆̐͐̒̎̀̈́͜ ̶̙͖͊́̉̋̅̋̎͠b̴̗̜̹͇̳̔̿̔͑̒̓͊̉̈́̈́́l̴̖̭̻̬̒̍͒̂͌̑̉͊͛̔̍̆̚͘̚ͅo̵̽̔̽̾̿́̀̍̄͝ͅȯ̵͓͙͕̻̮̳̲̯͖̭̘̯̘̞̂d̶̦̜̋̀̓̕ ̷̢̪͍̫̣̪͕͇̫͇͚̈́͐̋̑̽͌̒͐͝͝ľ̵̢̡͙̫̙̻͙̗̟͍͔̱̱̼̥̌̆͠è̶͚̟̤̮͓̀̓̏ͅf̵̨̨͕̝̝̝͕̼̯͇̉̅̄͠͝t̸͕̯̘̘͙̼̣̦̟̭̆̉͑̋̓̉͂͑̉͆̈͆̊̚͜ ̶͔̘̞̟͎͖͙̝͍̄̇̌͐̆̽́̓̈́͋́͒͊̈́͝t̷̡̹͓͇̤̰̻̠͐͌̿ỏ̷̡̨̢̡̨̧͈̦̙͉̘̩̼̗̍͐̂͒͛̋̔̆̏̈́͆̕ ̵̡̗̦̻͍̤̫̪͓̟̟̊͒s̸̢͎̫̖̯͔̖̹̩̭̘̠͖͊̀̈̈́̋̾͌́͘̚p̸̜̫̰͍̬̖͌͛͂̀̂͂̊ͅî̴̡͍̤͍͚̼͇͈̙̳͔̼̟̽̇̀̒̽̅͌̀́̔l̴̼̥͈̟͍̳͑̈́̊̀̈́̑́͑̊͑͂͂̀̚l̷̢̨̢̡͎͎͍̼̳̩̻̞̃̂͆̓͛̈ ̶̨͎͔̹̞̰̜̜͇̬̱̬͗͝ǐ̵̛̮̤͈̈́͋̃̈̉̏̇̄̂͝ş̵̧̤̰͎̰͎̘̘̦̘̉̓̓͐̆̓̎̏̕ ̷̨̛̮̯̤̤̯̙̗́̓̐̔̒͊͊̓͊̎̎̓̂͠y̶̧̨̫̟̭̬͕̫͖̗̆͝͠ͅơ̷̧̢͔̩̯̳̫̩̮͉̱̹̫̞̈̽̈́͂̏̋̋̈̾͗ư̸̢̯̠̗̰͂̊̈́̂̽̑͊̊̽̃́̌͝r̷̨̢̧̯̜͖̰͎̔̎̄͋́̂́̊̉͐͜͠ ̴̢̡͚̙̼͇͎̮̖́́́̆̓̌͌͋̌̀̅͘̚͝ǫ̷̪̹͓̱̲̰͝w̵̩̝̯͍̺̜̩̣̮̦͙̭̳̑̅͊̇͛̔̓̄̄͐̓ņ̴̯͗̊̓̎̔̅̄.̵̮̈́̈̀̈́̈́̎̊̔
̴̜̤̺̩̯̱̗̭̤̟̖͙̊͠
( Your misdeeds are many. The only blood left to spill is your own. )
[ … oh. it’s at this precise moment that shiro realizes that he’s pushed the boundary too far. he’s truly going to die right here, right now, isn’t he? there is no negotiating, there is no time; he’s wasted his window of opportunity and now… well…
he sucks in a quick breath and looks to keith, opening his mouth to… to… he doesn’t even know. say his name? to what purpose? he doesn’t get that far. the blade doesn’t dig deep as expected, but it does pierce skin, slicing a line into one side of his neck. one inch, two inches, he’s not sure; it doesn’t connect across though and perhaps that’s the saving grace here, because while blood begins to draw to the surface and spill over with the kind of pain that makes him mute, he can still breathe through it. ]
gosh i never use this icon
but the conversation starts going awry, and dread floods keith's arteries with panic that his mind can't rationalize away fast enough. i'm not like them. champion. shut up -- the rising, fracturing pitch in shiro's tone is bone-chilling, and keith starts to hyperventilate, struggling against his binds for his fucking knife.
but nothing keith has ever experienced in his life comes as close to breaking his mind and spirit the way the entity does with one simple line.
the only blood left to spill is yours.
everything ceases to be real. shiro looks at him with regretful eyes and as red blood spills from the lengthening cut, keith lets out a gut-wrenching scream. he can stomach the thought of his own death, finding the grit to at least go out with some pride left to his name, but the same absolutely cannot be said for being made to play helpless observer to shiro's execution. thrashing harder with no give in his binds to show for it, keith shrieks desperately, mindlessly throwing out anything and everything he can think of to re-implicate himself in this thing's eyes. ]
No! No! Stop it, stoppit! It's me, I'm the one who deserves to be tossed aside! I push everyone away, I'm a thief, a shitty teammate, I -I'm a freak of nature! I - fuck - I lie to myself all the time about who Shiro is and what he did to get a despicable title like CHampion! I - I...
[ but no further words come out. all at once, the room starts to spin and keith slumps in his seat unconscious. biting forst is what greets him next, and keith startles awake with shiro beside him, still bleeding from t the slash on his neck. mercifully, the cabin isn't far, and with no time wasted picking apart what the fuck just happened, keith and shiro rush to get inside where keith grabs the medi-kit and urges shiro to lie down on the couch.
fumbling, keith gives himself a mental slap to steady himself and pours disinfectant on a cotton ball to press to shiro's neck. his voice is ragged from screaming, but he tries nonetheless to be soothing. ]
Sorry, I know it stings. Just gotta make sure it's clean before we get the butterfly stitches on this.
it's a wonderful icon that deserves more play
maybe, maybe not. maybe not in the way he assumes, either. all signs point to him being butchered in this chair, his blood destined to amass on the already painted floor, but perhaps it will be by hypothermia, instead. because with no warning whatsoever, binds come off and the area opens up to white and cold, their predicament seemingly evaporating into thin air, like a fucking nightmare. unfortunately, one nightmare feeds into a second and together, they have to race on unsteady legs back to the cabin.
shiro attributes the strength in his body to adrenaline. he knows he's not out of the woods yet, even with him now inside the safety of their cabin, laid out on a couch that has already been the go-to spot of injury. is this what it's going to be like? the two of them taking turns on who gets to be dying on this couch?
his fingers are bloody when he pulls them away for keith, leaving his wound exposed. he swings his gaze away as he does so, finding it far easier to look at the ceiling than keith's fear-pulled face. remember how it isn't entirely true to say shiro didn't hear keith? it comes to him now as he hisses through the sting, compounding the pain radiating from split skin. the words themselves are clear-cut, as is the desperation that had colored every syllable. there is plenty to pick apart in keith's rushed confessions, but it's the last bit that has shiro circling over and over.
so keith tells lies to himself to see shiro in a better light?
shiro can't even bring himself to feel sorry for himself in the moment. he's sickened and disappointed, more so with his own inability to navigate the terror of what they just went through. it had been some sort of sick game, one that required certain honesties and certain willingnesses. shiro failed on all fronts. ]
I'm sorry that I put it all on you.
[ it's a struggle to talk, honestly. while the cut is not so deep as to sever vocal cords, between the separation in his throat and the pressure of keith's handiwork, this is not the best time to attempt a conversation. nonetheless, even with his voice strained, he thinks it's important enough to say: ]
You said what I couldn't.