[ it’s probably pretty weird to find a silent shōyō outside of a match he’s focused on. this was no match that needed his utmost attention, this was— something else! that’s successfully stolen his tongue as he obliges with no words, but only a stiff nod as he keeps picanha’s beak shut with a bridal style carry of the bird being guided into his lap once his back is adjacent to lycka. at . . . a safe distance, at the moment, he doesn’t want to explode. that was a lot in one go, even for him!
(not that shōyō is actually complaining)
his face is still— not exactly its normal tangerine tan and more like someone’s thrown pink lemonade into the mix, with his lips doing this thing that looks like he’s withholding energy, or just placing all of his sudden onset of nervousness there instead of feeling sick (thank god, like his games when he was younger— that’d be embarrassing). shōyō’s finally remembered the other thing he was here for, when a familiar shape catches his eye amidst still watching lazarus, but not using the words to speak to him (not because he didn’t want to; recovery time, and all that). ]
You’ve got, um, [ he relinquishes only half of his hold on his crow to hold his hand up, but picanha is a slippery thing! she finds her way out in a jump and flap upward to the orca’s fin, right where she belonged. as long as she wasn’t screaming incoherencies— ] the same thing!
no subject
(not that shōyō is actually complaining)
his face is still— not exactly its normal tangerine tan and more like someone’s thrown pink lemonade into the mix, with his lips doing this thing that looks like he’s withholding energy, or just placing all of his sudden onset of nervousness there instead of feeling sick (thank god, like his games when he was younger— that’d be embarrassing). shōyō’s finally remembered the other thing he was here for, when a familiar shape catches his eye amidst still watching lazarus, but not using the words to speak to him (not because he didn’t want to; recovery time, and all that). ]
You’ve got, um, [ he relinquishes only half of his hold on his crow to hold his hand up, but picanha is a slippery thing! she finds her way out in a jump and flap upward to the orca’s fin, right where she belonged. as long as she wasn’t screaming incoherencies— ] the same thing!