⤷ muselist found here ⤷ leave an idea/plot/character you want in the subject line. ⤷ you can leave your comment blank or create your own scenario. ⤷ have fun!
[Deep breaths. Inhale, exhale, focus. You got this. At least Hiroto is laughing, instead of some other reaction. He'll take amusement.]
That's definitely one check in the plus department. [He takes the towel, but, rather than starting to clean the arm off, starts on the mess of the counter. His mess -- he'll clean it up.] Don't worry about the mess, I'll take care of that.
[Look, he knows he's Terrible. He just thought maybe -- just maybe -- it would work.]
[That's where he's got you, Shiro. He's got a towel of his own, and he's placing it to your arm right now to do the cleaning for you. Silly adult, if you wave your soupy arm around it's going to get everywhere!]
He's eccentric...but we all kind of look up to him anyway. I don't think I've ever met a person with more passion to what he does than him. And he's eager to please.
[Traits he sees a lot in Shiro, honestly. Not all of them--Saginuma was the one who trained in two positions just because.]
It's okay to make messes--there'll always be people who'll help you clean them up, no matter how bad.
[... he didn't think of that. The soup spraying thing. He grimaces, and nods in thanks. The things that fly under your radar.]
What does he do, exactly? Same thing you do?
[The soccer, he means. Which is kind of refreshing. Meeting and being around someone whose main concern was a sport -- even if the sport was as intense as this kind of soccer sounded.]
Mm, if you mean a soccer player, then yes. He was a goalkeeper, though. So he stood back and protected the goal while his team brought home the points. It's not an easy position, but he loved seeing people come at him with their full strength.
And in turn, he showed them his.
[He finishes cleaning off that arm, making sure to get it out of the creases in the metal and around the edges before placing the towel in the microwave to sop up the remaining liquid.]
I guess I was considered a leader back home, too. Although I don't know if I really deserved that title, or if people just followed me because I was Dad's favourite.
[The word 'Dad' gets lumped in his throat, though, if only for a second.]
If not for that, I don't think I'd have been anything close. [Reina...Ulvida would have certainly dominated there. He'd known that from the moment he felt her voice sting his heart after she'd struck him with that soccer ball.]
[At least they are in other sports, right? Or they are in the few he's seen. Which are very few, admittedly. He'd been looking to the stars when most people were looking at the fields.]
[When it's done, he flexes his fingers a little, testing. Yep, everything still works just fine.] Thank you.
Your parents were involved in the soccer too? Or... just your dad?
[He asks it without thinking about it. Before shaking his head, and holding up a hand.]
Never mind. You don't have to answer. You seem pretty reliable to me, from what I've seen so far. Probably why people look to you.
Usually, but not all of them. On my team, our goalkeeper was very short. [A hand goes up to his waist.] As long as you can stop the ball, your height could be anything.
[But he pauses a moment when his parents are mentioned. Not out of anything bad, but more inquisitive. How does he explain this eloquently...]
I guess it's a little selfish of me to really call him Father. He was the person who ran the orphanage that I stayed at with all my friends. He would bring us gifts and play with us...
He really liked me. [He won't go into details about that part.]
As for soccer...[His eyes turn somber, playing with the corner of that towel idly.]
That's... pretty impressive. The goals are a tall, aren't they?
[And if their goalie is that small -- that kid has to have some serious skill on hand. In hand? However that works with soccer. He doesn't know, he's an astronaut not a referee.]
[He listens to the explanation, quietly. Leaning back against the counter.]
It doesn't sound selfish. Sounds more like he was all you had to go by.
[Oh...that's right. Shiro doesn't come from a world where soccer is like his. Hiroto's smile is apologetic, taking one of those paper towels as he explains.]
I'm from a world where soccer is a little bit different than what you're used to. What is only kicking a ball and making a score is something a whole lot more to us. We're able to summon forces, almost magically, to help defend the goal and score goals as well.
It makes it a much more beautiful sport, but a lot more dangerous, and a lot more influential in the world's battle for power.
It's always so easy to forget that our world's the only one like that. It's...more than often gotten me weird glances. I suppose I can't blame them for it, though.
...
[But his eyes flick up, surprised. Usually people just ended it at that. After all 'magic soccer' even here didn't really seem to perk up anyone's ears in -interest-, just confusion.]
no subject
That's definitely one check in the plus department. [He takes the towel, but, rather than starting to clean the arm off, starts on the mess of the counter. His mess -- he'll clean it up.] Don't worry about the mess, I'll take care of that.
[Look, he knows he's Terrible. He just thought maybe -- just maybe -- it would work.]
How bad off is he? Out of curiosity?
no subject
He's eccentric...but we all kind of look up to him anyway. I don't think I've ever met a person with more passion to what he does than him. And he's eager to please.
[Traits he sees a lot in Shiro, honestly. Not all of them--Saginuma was the one who trained in two positions just because.]
It's okay to make messes--there'll always be people who'll help you clean them up, no matter how bad.
no subject
What does he do, exactly? Same thing you do?
[The soccer, he means. Which is kind of refreshing. Meeting and being around someone whose main concern was a sport -- even if the sport was as intense as this kind of soccer sounded.]
Hah. Now you sound like me.
no subject
And in turn, he showed them his.
[He finishes cleaning off that arm, making sure to get it out of the creases in the metal and around the edges before placing the towel in the microwave to sop up the remaining liquid.]
I guess I was considered a leader back home, too. Although I don't know if I really deserved that title, or if people just followed me because I was Dad's favourite.
[The word 'Dad' gets lumped in his throat, though, if only for a second.]
If not for that, I don't think I'd have been anything close. [Reina...Ulvida would have certainly dominated there. He'd known that from the moment he felt her voice sting his heart after she'd struck him with that soccer ball.]
no subject
[At least they are in other sports, right? Or they are in the few he's seen. Which are very few, admittedly. He'd been looking to the stars when most people were looking at the fields.]
[When it's done, he flexes his fingers a little, testing. Yep, everything still works just fine.] Thank you.
Your parents were involved in the soccer too? Or... just your dad?
[He asks it without thinking about it. Before shaking his head, and holding up a hand.]
Never mind. You don't have to answer. You seem pretty reliable to me, from what I've seen so far. Probably why people look to you.
no subject
[But he pauses a moment when his parents are mentioned. Not out of anything bad, but more inquisitive. How does he explain this eloquently...]
I guess it's a little selfish of me to really call him Father. He was the person who ran the orphanage that I stayed at with all my friends. He would bring us gifts and play with us...
He really liked me. [He won't go into details about that part.]
As for soccer...[His eyes turn somber, playing with the corner of that towel idly.]
I'm not sure if he likes it or not.
no subject
[And if their goalie is that small -- that kid has to have some serious skill on hand. In hand? However that works with soccer. He doesn't know, he's an astronaut not a referee.]
[He listens to the explanation, quietly. Leaning back against the counter.]
It doesn't sound selfish. Sounds more like he was all you had to go by.
[No judgment here, buddy.]
What makes you say that?
no subject
[But Hiroto's contemplative as he cleans the microwave, working out what he wants to say as he goes through the motions.]
Father lost a lot because of soccer...and I think he used it as a way to gain power.
He was misguided.
[That's...one way to put it, Hiroto.]
no subject
[He's thinking of Pidge, for example. But steps up to offer Hiroto more paper towels, leaning against the counter.]
I... think I'm missing something. How do you use a sport to gain power?
[Please explain, space friend.]
no subject
I'm from a world where soccer is a little bit different than what you're used to. What is only kicking a ball and making a score is something a whole lot more to us. We're able to summon forces, almost magically, to help defend the goal and score goals as well.
It makes it a much more beautiful sport, but a lot more dangerous, and a lot more influential in the world's battle for power.
[As Kira had once done.]
no subject
[Anyone who can use that kind of power is bound to be used by someone. For their own ends.]
[... anyone with any kind of power is bound to be used by someone's own ends. Aren't they?]
Maybe you'd show me sometime? If you feel up for it.
no subject
...
[But his eyes flick up, surprised. Usually people just ended it at that. After all 'magic soccer' even here didn't really seem to perk up anyone's ears in -interest-, just confusion.]
Really?
no subject
[Look, Hiroto, he comes from space where giant sloths run boat rides to ancient robot super weapons, okay.]
[He just smiles at him, nodding.]
It's important to you. No better way to get to know you, than that, right?