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somekindofspaceuncleHiroki doesn't remember, exactly. His early life, that is. Childhood, somebody could call it, even, maybe, but that's no childhood, Hiroki won't call it childhood. If that was childhood, he'd cry about that child's (himself, yes, himself that he barely remembers) life. He would.
Funny thing is, most of the words he'd put this in, they come from the future, applied retroactively. The young himself back then didn't know many words, really. Not many words he'd know the meaning of, before Takashi Shirogane's memories had been forced into him.
So these are - feelings, instincts, the bare reality of things, retroactively translated into words by himself later for himself to understand. Maybe-
Yeah. That's it.
He says he doesn't remember, but maybe he doesn't remember - yet - much -because he does NOT WANT to remember, not because he CANNOT, in other words, isn't he himself to blame, if he doesn't remember? The early life. Maybe days, maybe weeks, maybe months, he doesn't know, he cannot know, because himself back then, Subject Y0XT39, had absolutely no concept of time. He only knows time now because Shiro knows time, that had been uploaded together with everything from Shiro's memories. If not for that, would he have the concept of time, himself, by now? How old is he? The intuitive answer is twenty eight, and that answer is WRONG, but it feels right, and that's how... isn't his life still a lie? No, it's not, but his age is. He can't be twenty eight years old, nor can he be three years old, and that's why he's a freak of nature, because even right answers are a lie to his brain.
Sometimes, he feels fourteen years old nowadays, and perhaps that'd be most right, but that's just a fantasy. That's just a boyish desire.
But, back to memories. He doesn't remember much, perhaps because he does not want to remember. He is...
He is glad he had been blind, in the beginning. He doesn't know what his body had looked like, back then, as he couldn't see it. What would he have seen, back then, in those earliest memories, had his eyes worked? A toddler? A preteen? He probably would have cried, for the past himself, for the himself back then, right now, if so, because...
He remembers when almost drifting to sleep. That's when he remembers, slowly, only as much trickling in through the walls that had been built by Honerva as... as much as... as much as he right now allows? In order to stay sane...
He remembers, then, when drifting off to sleep. He tries to wall that off, slightly, too, so that Ziggy doesn't hear. It'd be upsetting, surely.
He had been blind, back then. And perhaps a child. He had been in liquid - he knows now, that he had been in the pod. An existence mainly comprised of sleeping, and sleeping was good, because in sleep, there was sometimes a flash of something. But in wakeness, the world was liquid, and pain, and nothing, because being blind, he could not see a thing. At first - was it even at first, or weeks later - again, no concept of time back then - waking up was just too scary (another retroactive word). Waking up meant feeling as if he was drowning. He could breathe, but he didn't know he could, and so, he would panic, and panic, the survival instict, he'd try to go through the liquid, and then through the solid (how weak had he been, he wonders today, if the glass of the pod felt like impregnable steel and there was no hope of getting out), to get out, out, out, to breathe!! and when all attempts failed, he'd fall asleep, and that was like being saved, because in dream, he didn't know he felt as if he couldn't breathe, and so, he breathed calmly.
Then, came the whispers. Another retroactive word, but that's what they had been. Because a child learns the language, he was slowly learning whatever language the whispers, directly to his mind, came in. Altean, perhaps. Maybe Altean. Because... because the one whispering had been HER.
It took him some time, but he must've, looking back he realises, he must've realised that the whispers were alien to himself.
In other words, though how strange that had been, he was not one of the only three things (himself, the liquid, and the solid thing around the liquid) in the whole world
And then knowing that, he had suddenly felt so, so, so... alone, perhaps? Not as if he had words for it, back then. The whispers... they hurt, but it was such a relief when they came, when he wasn't the only thing in the whole world, just for a moment. Such a relief.
The first thing he properly understood where numbers. Well, not quite, as he couldn't count, but, it was imparted to him, accidentally or not, he knows not, even now, that he was one of many. He thinks... there was a time when he must've felt almost happy about that.
Almost happy.
Not alone.
Then, other whispers came, sometimes. Not her. The Druids, he now knows. Checking whether his mind is developed enough to react to their presence, he knows now.
They'd come and go, leaving very quickly. He looked forward to their visits, even though they hurt. (But everything hurt. Always. So it was better to hurt a bit more if that was a price for not being the only thing in the world. Right? Some Druids, he knows now, thought he was probably worthless, like all other Subjects. And maybe he was. Still, it was always good to get a momentary visit. Wait, was it?
Well. It had felt so, back then. The alternative was total isolation. Or sleep. But that was getting stale, sometimes, even if he had no concept of times. The almost dreamless sleep, with only flashes of something, sometimes. Where did the flashes come from? Perhaps some of his core quintessence, that had to be, surely, copied from Shiro's.
So when he dreamt, he dreamt, perhaps, of what Shiro would dream of, if Shiro had no memories.
Nevermind that. Later - it probably had to be later - again, no concept of time - he was, sometimes, taken out of the pod, which was a shock, because he didn't know, not really, not quite, back then, that that was not the whole universe, that pod.
And then the pain would come. Why or how, he didn't know. They were checking something. Many things. Checking if he's at least a little functional. Checking whether he has quintessence (he knows now, looking back on conversations, now that he understand, that getting somebody else's quintessence, a tiny part of it, into somebody else's body, is like replanting a tree. Really not guaranteed to work - in another soil, a tree might just die.
Sometime around there, though again, back then he had no concept of time, they must've decided, SHE must've decided, that there is a chance that he might be good enough - at existing - because that's when they, the Galrans, had cut his right arm off. He still couldn't see, back then.
Pain. He didn't really feel anger, back then, only pain, and-- that's probably because-- to feel anger, one must know, that something else than what happened, could've happened -- and to him, back then, that was... like an earthquake. Do people get angry at earthquakes?
He knows, because, nowadays, he can compare the memory of losing his right arm to the memory of Shiro losing his right arm. Shiro had been angry, had every right to be, knew to be, and--
But he? He didn't know a thing. There was not even tiniest relief of anger at HER, because... because he had known nothing, back then.
Nothing at all.
He doesn't know to remember more right now. Maybe another day. He remembers snippets of conversations, like...
Some Druid asking HER, no, wait, telling her, that the memory transfer, of Black Paladin's memories, into a few subjects had been a success, but then they minds collapsed, possibly because they lacked awareness to be able to parse memories.
And he remembers, after, the whispers telling him that his name is Takashi Shirogane. Telling him a few other things, too. Awareness, huh? That had to be it. Building his awareness. Lies, of course, but... so that he'd be able to parse the memories, and not only pain, when that all came, later.
So he would...
He doesn't want to remember anymore. He drifts off to sleep, hoping that maybe Ziggy's closeness will mean that he, Hiroki, won't dream of it all, and then embarassed, because Ziggy's not some kind of a teddy bear.
Still... maybe he just doesn't want to remember anymore.
Your name is Takashi Shirogane. You are a Paladin of Voltron. You must be a Paladin of Voltron. Without that, you're nothing. If you can't be Takashi Shirogane, you'll be disposed of.
He remembers those words, now. He doesn't want to remember anymore, from that time back then, right now. Not anymore. He doesn't know anymore, because he has a feeling, that if he remembers... he'll be scared, horrified, at not being Shiro. He's not Shiro, and that.. that will scare him... because if he's not Shiro... then there can be only pain. (Awareness. So that he could accept memories later. That's awareness? That's sick.).
So, maybe that's enough remembering for now.
Funny thing is, most of the words he'd put this in, they come from the future, applied retroactively. The young himself back then didn't know many words, really. Not many words he'd know the meaning of, before Takashi Shirogane's memories had been forced into him.
So these are - feelings, instincts, the bare reality of things, retroactively translated into words by himself later for himself to understand. Maybe-
Yeah. That's it.
He says he doesn't remember, but maybe he doesn't remember - yet - much -because he does NOT WANT to remember, not because he CANNOT, in other words, isn't he himself to blame, if he doesn't remember? The early life. Maybe days, maybe weeks, maybe months, he doesn't know, he cannot know, because himself back then, Subject Y0XT39, had absolutely no concept of time. He only knows time now because Shiro knows time, that had been uploaded together with everything from Shiro's memories. If not for that, would he have the concept of time, himself, by now? How old is he? The intuitive answer is twenty eight, and that answer is WRONG, but it feels right, and that's how... isn't his life still a lie? No, it's not, but his age is. He can't be twenty eight years old, nor can he be three years old, and that's why he's a freak of nature, because even right answers are a lie to his brain.
Sometimes, he feels fourteen years old nowadays, and perhaps that'd be most right, but that's just a fantasy. That's just a boyish desire.
But, back to memories. He doesn't remember much, perhaps because he does not want to remember. He is...
He is glad he had been blind, in the beginning. He doesn't know what his body had looked like, back then, as he couldn't see it. What would he have seen, back then, in those earliest memories, had his eyes worked? A toddler? A preteen? He probably would have cried, for the past himself, for the himself back then, right now, if so, because...
He remembers when almost drifting to sleep. That's when he remembers, slowly, only as much trickling in through the walls that had been built by Honerva as... as much as... as much as he right now allows? In order to stay sane...
He remembers, then, when drifting off to sleep. He tries to wall that off, slightly, too, so that Ziggy doesn't hear. It'd be upsetting, surely.
He had been blind, back then. And perhaps a child. He had been in liquid - he knows now, that he had been in the pod. An existence mainly comprised of sleeping, and sleeping was good, because in sleep, there was sometimes a flash of something. But in wakeness, the world was liquid, and pain, and nothing, because being blind, he could not see a thing. At first - was it even at first, or weeks later - again, no concept of time back then - waking up was just too scary (another retroactive word). Waking up meant feeling as if he was drowning. He could breathe, but he didn't know he could, and so, he would panic, and panic, the survival instict, he'd try to go through the liquid, and then through the solid (how weak had he been, he wonders today, if the glass of the pod felt like impregnable steel and there was no hope of getting out), to get out, out, out, to breathe!! and when all attempts failed, he'd fall asleep, and that was like being saved, because in dream, he didn't know he felt as if he couldn't breathe, and so, he breathed calmly.
Then, came the whispers. Another retroactive word, but that's what they had been. Because a child learns the language, he was slowly learning whatever language the whispers, directly to his mind, came in. Altean, perhaps. Maybe Altean. Because... because the one whispering had been HER.
It took him some time, but he must've, looking back he realises, he must've realised that the whispers were alien to himself.
In other words, though how strange that had been, he was not one of the only three things (himself, the liquid, and the solid thing around the liquid) in the whole world
And then knowing that, he had suddenly felt so, so, so... alone, perhaps? Not as if he had words for it, back then. The whispers... they hurt, but it was such a relief when they came, when he wasn't the only thing in the whole world, just for a moment. Such a relief.
The first thing he properly understood where numbers. Well, not quite, as he couldn't count, but, it was imparted to him, accidentally or not, he knows not, even now, that he was one of many. He thinks... there was a time when he must've felt almost happy about that.
Almost happy.
Not alone.
Then, other whispers came, sometimes. Not her. The Druids, he now knows. Checking whether his mind is developed enough to react to their presence, he knows now.
They'd come and go, leaving very quickly. He looked forward to their visits, even though they hurt. (But everything hurt. Always. So it was better to hurt a bit more if that was a price for not being the only thing in the world. Right? Some Druids, he knows now, thought he was probably worthless, like all other Subjects. And maybe he was. Still, it was always good to get a momentary visit. Wait, was it?
Well. It had felt so, back then. The alternative was total isolation. Or sleep. But that was getting stale, sometimes, even if he had no concept of times. The almost dreamless sleep, with only flashes of something, sometimes. Where did the flashes come from? Perhaps some of his core quintessence, that had to be, surely, copied from Shiro's.
So when he dreamt, he dreamt, perhaps, of what Shiro would dream of, if Shiro had no memories.
Nevermind that. Later - it probably had to be later - again, no concept of time - he was, sometimes, taken out of the pod, which was a shock, because he didn't know, not really, not quite, back then, that that was not the whole universe, that pod.
And then the pain would come. Why or how, he didn't know. They were checking something. Many things. Checking if he's at least a little functional. Checking whether he has quintessence (he knows now, looking back on conversations, now that he understand, that getting somebody else's quintessence, a tiny part of it, into somebody else's body, is like replanting a tree. Really not guaranteed to work - in another soil, a tree might just die.
Sometime around there, though again, back then he had no concept of time, they must've decided, SHE must've decided, that there is a chance that he might be good enough - at existing - because that's when they, the Galrans, had cut his right arm off. He still couldn't see, back then.
Pain. He didn't really feel anger, back then, only pain, and-- that's probably because-- to feel anger, one must know, that something else than what happened, could've happened -- and to him, back then, that was... like an earthquake. Do people get angry at earthquakes?
He knows, because, nowadays, he can compare the memory of losing his right arm to the memory of Shiro losing his right arm. Shiro had been angry, had every right to be, knew to be, and--
But he? He didn't know a thing. There was not even tiniest relief of anger at HER, because... because he had known nothing, back then.
Nothing at all.
He doesn't know to remember more right now. Maybe another day. He remembers snippets of conversations, like...
Some Druid asking HER, no, wait, telling her, that the memory transfer, of Black Paladin's memories, into a few subjects had been a success, but then they minds collapsed, possibly because they lacked awareness to be able to parse memories.
And he remembers, after, the whispers telling him that his name is Takashi Shirogane. Telling him a few other things, too. Awareness, huh? That had to be it. Building his awareness. Lies, of course, but... so that he'd be able to parse the memories, and not only pain, when that all came, later.
So he would...
He doesn't want to remember anymore. He drifts off to sleep, hoping that maybe Ziggy's closeness will mean that he, Hiroki, won't dream of it all, and then embarassed, because Ziggy's not some kind of a teddy bear.
Still... maybe he just doesn't want to remember anymore.
Your name is Takashi Shirogane. You are a Paladin of Voltron. You must be a Paladin of Voltron. Without that, you're nothing. If you can't be Takashi Shirogane, you'll be disposed of.
He remembers those words, now. He doesn't want to remember anymore, from that time back then, right now. Not anymore. He doesn't know anymore, because he has a feeling, that if he remembers... he'll be scared, horrified, at not being Shiro. He's not Shiro, and that.. that will scare him... because if he's not Shiro... then there can be only pain. (Awareness. So that he could accept memories later. That's awareness? That's sick.).
So, maybe that's enough remembering for now.
