Anne Carson, Grief Lessons: Four Plays By Euripides

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Send a ‘📃’ for a short drabble involving our muses (Closed) || @kienokoru​

Shiro adapts to alien-care

In the briefest of instances, Shiro became aware of the void of sleep. He wanted to succumb to unconsciousness again (A secondary part of him marvels at the fact that he’s waking up at his own leisure, as opposed to being shaken or jolted awake by orderlies or nightmares), but in his half-asleep state, Shiro felt like something was up. Not wrong, just off—like he forgot something or slept on his leg weird.

As he faded further from dreams, and drifted closer to consciousness, Shiro understood what was the off feeling was about—his arm was wet.

One groggy eye at a time, he peels them open to the dingy motel room turned home-base. His sensations realign themselves with reality, and Shiro realizes that his prosthetic arm is the drenched one. The reason why is simple: Vanx.

Even as Shiro returned to the land of the living, she continued to gnaw on his arm—smearing her slobber all over the place.

It’s pretty gross. In a cute kind of way? No, no—Shiro prefers his limbs not-slobbered-on, even if his prosthetic arm could be power-washed. He half-mumbles in a groggy voice, “Come on, Vanx,” and jiggles his arm to a great clinking of teeth.

Vanx looks up—with her jaws still clamped down on his arm—and stares with big guilty eyes that scream, “I didn’t think you’d catch me red-handed.“

Vanx finally drops his arm and scooches some away. Grunting, Shiro stretches out his back. As sketchy as the mattress looks (and smells), it would’ve been better for him than leaning on headboard. Then again, a little soreness was the least of his worries.

Having popped as many cricks down his spine as he could, Shiro takes stock of his prosthetic arm; at least, he does after smearing it across the sheets, just to get the first layer of slobber off it. As he assesses for damage, Vanx pipes up with a more nervous-sounding yelp, “I swear I did not break any parts!”

Shiro realizes he’s been wearing a more so disgusted look. He is pretty grossed out, but he doesn’t want Vanx to think she’s in trouble. He’s not angry, or even really frustrated, so much as he’s just struggling. He’s never handled kids that teethed, much less kids that teethed like Vanx.

He’s seen her try to eat through walls.

Putting on a warm smile, his voice turns gentle as he tries to reassure Vanx. “I’m sure you didn’t, but we still need to be careful. I need this to get around and fight, too.” He’s been flexing his fingers and everything seems to be in order—no damage, and from the look of things, very few scuff marks. “You don’t want to leave me without an arm, right?”

“Oh.” Vanx blinks and her voice drops to low tone, something that suggests she better understands the gravity of the issue. “I am sorry.”

Shiro let out a small sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“Yes, I am sure you would be very sad if you could not do any more arm wrestling.”

Shiro blinks at that, feeling a twinge of offense spring up in his gut. “That’s not– I don’t–” He sputters for a moment as he collects his thoughts. “I was arm wrestling long before I got this arm, ”

Vanx makes a face of scrutiny as she looks between either of Shiro’s arms. “But.. your flesh arm is so weak and edible.”

“Well, yes, but arm wrestling isn’t just about strength, you also have to have the proper technique, and–” Shiro stops himself before he goes too deep into that rabbit hole. He ignores the more disturbing half of Vanx’s comment, and tries to not to regret showing her how to arm wrestle.

It helped past the time, and it was fun game they enjoyed.

“Look, it’s not just about me being able to arm wrestle or not. This arm is.. apart of me.” He said the last part hesitantly, like he didn’t really want to admit it. For a moment, his eyebrows furrow together, but his expression evens-out again. “If you need to gnaw on something, then we can get you something like, uh.. chew toy?”

He cringed inwardly at that word choice. It felt a little dehumanizing, offering a little kid dog toys. Vanx, on the other hand, perked up at that. She sounded excited as can be as she practically squealed, “Really?”

Shiro reminds himself, once again, that alien kids usually like alien toys, and those aren’t always like human toys.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll get you the next one we come across.” Shiro laughed at the way Vanx fist-pumped to herself.  He swung his legs over the side of the bed, and as he stood up, he rolls both his shoulder to even more cricks and pops. “But, how about we have another rematch before we start off the day?”

Vanx beamed at the idea and scurried off the bed herself. With just a grunt, she   was already hefting the nightstand from the other side of the bed to the middle of the room (While she lacked any kind of technique, the kid had more than enough brute strength). She always thought she’d beat Shiro at arm wrestling, and Shiro would be lying if he said a small part of himself wouldn’t feel vindicated by beating her yet again.

But it’d all be in the name of fun and games, and it’d make for a good distraction from the grimy city outside.

who wants to write some fantasy shit

i’m so stuck on the witch au ghost & i developed and i just wanna write my space witch werewolf boy with more people. it’s a verse i’m flexible with when i expand out to other people so it’s just!! fantasy stuff!!

...i also have my hogwarts verses which i also love but yeah someone just write some magic bs with me

Soft Shiro icon commission

grimesucker‌.

@kienokoru | ♥’D 44 574R73R

                                            “ SO ? WHAT D’YOU THINK ?”

inquiry made with slight NUDGE to the slumbrat’s shoulder, followed up with a vague gesture to the stall front whereupon sits a plethora of weapons set between them & the vendor , a neon-colored punk named CIPHER— a BRAT to the HIGHEST DEGREE, but the one vendor in the black market that dox has had the most dealings with - neither would consider the other a FRIEND , but dox doesn’t steal from cipher & cipher doesn’t cut off dox’s fingers for thinking about it.

they’re out here now because dox is ADAMANT on getting fifteen some kinda WEAPON, something to at least ease his OWN mind to know the kid has some means of self-defense ; whether or not he’d USE IT remains to be seen , what with his penchant for trying to remain the VOICE OF REASON , but better to be SAFE than SORRY . …actually , dox has never been sorry a day in his life - so SAFE it is.

fingers tap across the assorted weaponry - knives , throwing stars , retractable batons , knuckle dusters , a whole-ass MORNING STAR—

                                                               “ anything ya like ?”

     “ ...i dunno. ”

  clear INDECISIVENESS clings to the response, dark grey eyes scanning over the wide range of weapons for at least the fourth time now. he hasn’t WANTED a weapon, he’s only here because dox almost literally dragged him here and is now forcing him to pick something out. ...if he were to be COMPLETELY honest though, shiro doesn’t think it’s the worst idea  ---  he knows dox only wants to get him a weapon for his own safety and, really... decent as he is with his fists in a fight, having something more would help him protect himself  ( and the other slumbrats )  a lot more.

     “ maybe... this? ” 

fingers move forward, a glance cast to cipher tentatively, and curl around the handle of a steel black combat knife. the weight feels good in his hand, but it feels WRONG to be holding something like this. it’s something obviously MEANT for combat, nothing else, but out of everything laid out before him... this is what’s caught his eye. perhaps because it seems the least BRUTAL of everything.

»» Wardrobe ( part 2 )

a bit of a contrast from his canon wardrobe, shiro’s everyday, normal life choices in clothing are, naturally, more… relaxed. the two important factors in his choices remain, however: functionality & comfort. not overly concerned with style, he wears what he likes and what keeps him comfy. he favours big sweaters that are oversized, even on him, and is well-known to have some really obnoxious and hideous patterned ones that he genuinely likes the look of. shirts, however, vary from fitted to loose depending on what he feels like wearing on a given day, and pants are much the same. his favourite shoes will always be combat boots, but he has a couple pairs of sneakers, too.

colours are most often muted and typically dark, save for his massive sweaters. where most of his shirts are black or grey or white, his sweaters come in any colour, varying brightness, and all sorts of patterns. he even has one where the front is just a massive picture of his dog’s face, but what do you want from him? he has a real appreciation for ugly sweaters.

verse tag dump.

✗ ― 「 v: dear atlas / you must endure 」 main. ✗ ― 「 v: what a beautiful day to make a break for it 」 overwatch. ✗ ― 「 v: i pray for the wicked on the weekend 」 undercity. ✗ ― 「 v: there’s a madness that’s coursing right through me 」 undercity: ii. ✗ ― 「 v: they dragged you into darkness & you came out shining 」 witch au. ✗ ― 「 v: just & loyal 」 hogwarts: i. ✗ ― 「 v: i am brave / i am bruised / i am who i’m meant to be 」 hogwarts: ii. ✗ ― 「 v: you’ll have to watch me struggle from several rooms away 」 modern.

stardust is golden, it settles on your skin and you shine with it. you breathe it in, and your insides turn to light, to the fiery blaze of cosmos.

icb jack & shiro are both filing to adopt one another @soldierwatch

VEHEMENT (adj): ardent, fierce, violent

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