[ as it stands, viren doesn't need the elaboration; indeed, pompous he may be, spelling out the sub subtleties and implications when mentioning politics is unnecessary. ]
[ he feels caught, somehow, like a rat chased into a glue trap. he curses himself: for all the memories shared alongside others, he should've prepared for this. there's a long moment of tense silence. he half considers blowing off the question with a huff, storming out the mirror himself. ]
[ keith receives a cold, hard stare. ]
Perhaps you haven't experienced it: to be at a point so low that you're without a choice, that you're forced to exhaust the least desirable, and the very last, of avenues available to you.
[ the words bite terribly at his pride. he deems it a loss, to admit that he couldn't be certain of what to expect. "commonplace" ritual, and all. so, quietly, ]
[ There've been a lot of twists and turns in the last couple of minutes. Prying into other people's memories is naturally going to come with a few unexpected curveballs, but going even beyond the oddity of Viren's blood ritual, possible (?) Galra connections and bug familiar is the preface Viren attaches to his answer.
Keith stares for a moment, expression softening with surprise. He stays quiet like he halfway expects there to be some punchline to the fact that he's now somehow feeling ... not exactly sorry for Viren, but a shade more sympathetic than he ever wanted to.
Low points, huh. Maybe it's easier to laugh at the thought that someone actually thinks he's some privileged spoilt kid who's never had a hard day in his life. If he dwells on it long enough, he certainly starts feeling a familiar and comfortable kind of irritation.
He drops eye contact, looking off to the stone wall. Even that, he realizes, has probably said a bit too much. Looking back up, he continues in the same defiant tone as before. ]
To help you with what?
[ Maybe it's too early to be feeling sympathetic. Maybe it was just a completely frivolous thing, but the fact that he's quit throwing out goading commentary, if nothing else, could probably be taken as a sign of grudging respect. ]
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[ he feels caught, somehow, like a rat chased into a glue trap. he curses himself: for all the memories shared alongside others, he should've prepared for this. there's a long moment of tense silence. he half considers blowing off the question with a huff, storming out the mirror himself. ]
[ keith receives a cold, hard stare. ]
Perhaps you haven't experienced it: to be at a point so low that you're without a choice, that you're forced to exhaust the least desirable, and the very last, of avenues available to you.
[ the words bite terribly at his pride. he deems it a loss, to admit that he couldn't be certain of what to expect. "commonplace" ritual, and all. so, quietly, ]
Answers. Counsel. Anything -- to help.
no subject
Keith stares for a moment, expression softening with surprise. He stays quiet like he halfway expects there to be some punchline to the fact that he's now somehow feeling ... not exactly sorry for Viren, but a shade more sympathetic than he ever wanted to.
Low points, huh. Maybe it's easier to laugh at the thought that someone actually thinks he's some privileged spoilt kid who's never had a hard day in his life. If he dwells on it long enough, he certainly starts feeling a familiar and comfortable kind of irritation.
He drops eye contact, looking off to the stone wall. Even that, he realizes, has probably said a bit too much. Looking back up, he continues in the same defiant tone as before. ]
To help you with what?
[ Maybe it's too early to be feeling sympathetic. Maybe it was just a completely frivolous thing, but the fact that he's quit throwing out goading commentary, if nothing else, could probably be taken as a sign of grudging respect. ]