#marmoritic

@emperorborn NO TOUCHY!!

                   “ Sometimes you just need to furiously      beat the brakes off a guy when he disrespects a lady. ”

                 “So, I’m supposed to meet with this.. Keith individual?” It seemed simple enough as he listened to Allura over the comlink, introduce himself and get better acquainted with the Blade of Mamora’s prince so they could better accomplish their mission to put him on the throne once they’d dethroned Lotor. In theory it should be quite easy to do, it was just formal introductions after all-- but alas nothing is ever that simple where it concerned Shiro himself. Not because he was difficult to get along with but rather because he couldn’t see who he was supposed to meet and have an easier time understanding their micro expressions or habits like he would have before. The man made it a point to always be aware of his teammates and always look out for them but when it came to new people it was difficult to get to know them unless they were patient with him and were in close quarters of him often so he could analyze the various sounds and gestures, the way tones carried and the like. 

His instructions given, his orders received, Shiro could only hope this whole meet went well. After all, there’d been too much hell that had been falling all around him lately with the things that transpired that put Lotor on the throne to begin with. How their hearts cried towards him, how Lance’s dejected soul had grasped at him and begged him to not yell at him again. (It wasn’t him, but he still felt it. He still felt that anger and resentment towards the clone of him that had done something so out of line.) Taking up a mission that wasn’t sanctioned by his full team, going against their wishes, acting alone-- these were all things he’d preached against the entirety of his career as a commander. These were the things that got people killed. So when he embarked on this journey back to the Castleship, back to where the tattered remains of his heart called home with the people he called family despite there being no relation, he was both at ease and nervous all at the same time in some kind of cacophony of emotions. 

When he returned to the bay and spoke to Black briefly about their latest mission being a job well done, he took a few moments to wait for the Blade’s guide to whom ever this Keith person was. He’d heard of him in passing, Krolia’s son. Heard of strength and prowess and general battle bred stories. That didn’t give him any insight into who he was though and how he was to ensure the other’s health and happiness in his team. “Krolia,” he chimed when he heard the steps, a smile on his features as she came to get him. “Thanks for being the guide.” Always grateful, always supportive, always kind. How it had escaped all others but Lance at the time that the clone wasn’t him was beyond him sometimes but he had long since abandoned the question in favour of forging new paths. He followed along with Krolia until they entered the council room and he reached up, pulling his helmet off to be polite so the other’s could see his features. (Even if he could not see them in return.) Sightless eyes were directed in front of him at Krolia’s gesture and he found himself needing to look down to make some form of glazed eye contact. 

accent challenge ★ ( accepting! )