maskormenace

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I realize there's a lot going on right now with the weird cryptic messages and everything, but has ANYONE figured out a way to stop the whole bursting into song and dance thing?

I really need it to stop. Now.

[So there's a reason Keith is doing this post as a text post. But given the way all of this has been going, is it any wonder that his video flips on to show him, very dramatically silhouetted in a window, back lit and, well, let's just call it so emo. Music begins in the background, soft at first, but it slowly crescendos and Keith starts singing,]

On my own, pretending he's beside--

[And the look of horror on his face is the last thing the camera sees as he grabs for it and turns it back to text. He's still singing, dramatically, but at least it's not being broadcast anymore. Back to text. Nice, safe, un-mortifying text.]

I don't even know Les Mis.

This has to stop. I really need to go grocery shopping.

[Instead he's holed up in his room trying to smother himself with a pillow to make the singing stop. Why. Him.]

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[ now, how could Apollo, the god of Song, ignore such a request? ]

If you say Please, I might be able to cancel it out altogether.

Please.

Pretty please.

[Zero hesitation.]

How can you do that?

It's my whole thing.

I've always been able to control sound waves - getting you to stop singing is a natural extension of that.

So hold on wait. Is this going to be permanent? And does stopping me singing let me keep talking?

This is some sort of magic thing, right?

[Fricken magic. His life used to be normal. Sort of. For a few minutes at some point maybe.

Anyway, the video flips on unintentionally again.]

Do you hear the people sing? Singing the songs of angr-- [And slammed back into text function.]

I do need the help.

idk re: magic. That's beyond my paygrade.

[ though he snickers, pretty loudly, at the Perfect Les Mes. Gods, he remembers the first performance... ]

I'd have to meet you in person.
Give me directions to your place and I'll make it go away, at least for the next 24 hours.
And yes, you'll talk again like a normal person.

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lonered - 2019-10-16 16:57 (UTC) - Expand

Wait, who's Les Mis?

[can context possibly make this better]

It's an old musical stage show from Earth. About sad people in France. And I don't know any of the songs, but I'm somehow singing it anyway.

[Context makes this no better please help him, Allura.]

Why would you make a show about sad people singing? That sounds awful.

Are you feeling sad, Keith? Do you want to talk to someone about it? I'm always here for you.

I think some of them are angry too. And everyone dies.

[Keith has no idea what it's actually about, only what he's picked up vaguely through cultural osmosis.

He also has no idea how to handle talking about feelings, so he stares at the second half of Allura's text for a long moment. He appreciates it though.]

I wouldn't say sad. Just. I guess there's a lot on my mind. That's all.

Edited (random extra lines idk where they came from) 2019-10-07 00:19 (UTC)

Nothing that would lead you to getting angry and dying, I hope!

[Allura it's just the songs, he's not going to live the musical.]

But really, what's on your mind? Is it something to do with being here, and all that comes with it -- like singing musicals?

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if you don't know Les Mis how do you know it's Les Mis

Internet search. Because I'm sure as hell not coming up with these lyrics myself.

[And because he felt like he was going insane, even having an inkling that the whole song and dance routine is a fairly common affliction lately], he had to try to figure it out.

I'd heard of it before. It was popular way before I was born.

Keith? [It's after the singing that Shiro opens the door and stands in the doorway. Keith has been avoiding him for reasons he can't figure out. They'd been fine until the songs started. Suddenly Keith was like a ghost.

He texted just fine. They talked over their phones but it isn't in person. He can't figure out if there's something about the future hidden in the music or what exactly Keith is trying to hide. He won't say it. It's frustrating.

A soft piano accompanies him stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. He freezes, one hand still on the doorknob. Then as the urge to sing grips him, maybe...this is just what they need. Have it out even if it's mortifying.]

'Cause it's too cold for you here,

[He closes the distance between them and steps into the light, his baritone pitched softer than usual. This is stupid but the lyrics are conveying what he wants to say as he offers his hands to Keith. He asks without saying it just what is wrong.]

And now, so let me hold,
Both your hands in the holes of my sweater, [Stop avoiding him and let him help.]

[He hears Shiro at his door and freezes. There's one insane moment where he considers the benefits of going out the window. But that's ridiculous. Kosmo is snoozing on the bed; he could escape via space wolf.

But no that's not right either. So he stands facing the door when it opens.

When Shiro steps inside. When the music starts. Oh no. Because Keith knows the songs are infuriatingly apt, all the things he's not intending to say and that's why he's been avoiding Shiro, because what if he says -- sings -- something he shouldn't. But now Shiro is here.

And Shiro is singing and Keith wants the floor to open beneath him and swallow him whole. But, he notes, Shiro's singing voice is lovely. And.

There's no fighting it. He takes a step closer and reaches out to place his hands in Shiro's. And his eyes are fixed on their joined hands.]

And if I may just take your breath away
I don't mind if there's not much to say

[There's always too much to say and that's the problem. But he finally looks up to meet Shiro's eyes.]

Sometimes the silence guides a mind
To move to a place so far away, yeah.

Edited 2019-10-07 04:14 (UTC)

The goosebumps start to raise
The minute that my left-hand meets your waist
And then I watch your face

[He doesn't feel the urge to keep singing and breathes out a sigh of relief. Keith didn't pull away. But, he notes that he feels the best he has in days. It crystallizes how badly he felt with being shut out.

He squeezes Keith's hands in his and doesn't let go. Nor does he look away from Keith's eyes. His voice is soft and measured. He has a chance to talk to Keith and he's taking it.] I don't know what you're hiding, Keith. I don't care. I don't want you to tell me unless you want to. But, don't shut me out like that again, alright?

If it's something I did, let me make it right. If it's not, just tell me when you want to be left alone. Okay?

[The music fades and Keith breathes a sigh of something between relief with a tinge of disappointment somehow. The way Shiro was watching him, the way his hands were held in the other paladin's, and that's over now. Except it isn't. Shiro's hands tighten around his, and Keith won't be the one to pull away.

His eyes widen as Shiro speaks, and he's quick to shake his head.]

You didn't! You didn't do anything. Really. It's not that at all.

[But ah. He sees. He hurt him, didn't he, avoiding him that way?]

I just never know what's coming out of my mouth next with this music thing. And I didn't... I didn't want to say something to you that I shouldn't.

[It's vague enough that it could mean something about Shiro's future, but it doesn't. Not entirely at least. There are worse things he could say than that, and those are what he's been concerned about.]

I'm sorry, Shiro. I won't shut you out again. To be honest, [So painfully, rawly honest.] I've missed you. Probably sounds pretty dumb, but... [There it is.]

It doesn't sound stupid. I missed you too. [So he'd been right. Shiro sighs and gently lets go of Keith's hands and reaches up to grip his shoulder like they always do. It's their gesture of reassurance one that's comforting to both of them. He makes sure not to look away still. This is important.] Keith.

I'd rather you say something you don't think you should than avoid me just because of my wishes to not know what's ahead of me. I can deal with it.

Don't hurt yourself on my account. [Then he pokes him right in the forehead light enough it's just pressure. His tone has a bit of a crispness to it as he says with slightly narrowed eyes.] Or your own. We can work out anything so long as we talk to each other.

[Then he subsides like the last rumble of thunder.] As long as you don't give up, I won't either.

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