like a wildfire;

[spazzed]

Who: keith, shiro, lance, allura
What: catch-all for shenanigans during february
Where: casa voltron, possibly other places, who even knows
When: all month
Warnings: nothing just yet but will be updated as needed!

Comments

forward dated to the 14th

[spazzed]

( he doesn't know what time it is — he never does, when it's this early — but it hardly matters when he's still in that in-between state of sleep and awake, that blissful handful of moments in which dreams run together and you can hold on to them for just a little bit longer. not that he'd been dreaming about anything important, or even exceptionally interesting, but it means that he can stay closer to dreamland for a little bit longer and that's what's most important to him, cocooned in a little bit of harmless deception before he needs to get up and make himself useful.

or fight keith for the bathroom. that's usually what happens first.

he's on his stomach, because of course he is, stretching out those long legs when he hears the tell-tale shuffling of feet over the floor in the direction of aforementioned bathroom, and he knows it has to be the buttcrack of dawn if someone is already up; it's always a toss-up between shiro and keith, both of them too adherent to routine to give it up, so much to the point that lance wouldn't even need a watch to be able to tell what time it is sometimes, and it's amusing in a way nothing else really is, just for the sake of something so mundane being amusing.

he doesn't bother moving too much even when those steps get to the point of passing by their many-times-stabbed couch, and lance's eyes are slitted open in a way that doesn't give him much of a view of a bedhead-styled mullet passing him by, but he does at least ( for some reason ) want to let the other know he's awake, and when he goes to give a soft little mornin' in the other's direction his eyes open a little more, and his heart does this funny little flip-flop-flip-shiver behind his ribs and he. he swallows a bit harder than he would normally, eyes opening fully, unblinking.

he hasn't even seen the tattoo yet. )

[marmoron]

[The morning starts off less than stellar already when Keith wakes up and sees that apparently someone decided to go ahead and write their name on his wrist while he was asleep. Keith doesn't know what's more annoying: the fact that Lance did it at all or the fact that he evidently didn't wake up during any part of these shenanigans. He isn't that deep a sleeper, and unless Lance has acquired some new stealthiness overnight (a terrible prospect), he should have woken up.

The annoyance with this only escalates when he realizes the name isn't actually smudging or coming off when he rubs at his wrist. Audibly, he grumps: the hell, Lance, under his breath, causing space wolf to wake and peer over at Keith curiously.

Shaking his head, Keith gets to his feet and gives Cosmo a few earskritches before heading to the bathroom to try and wash this off so he doesn't have to deal with it anymore. It's a foolproof plan, clearly, and not one that's doomed to fail because that name's been tattooed on him, Either way though, before he can actually act on this plan at all, he has to pass by Lance on the couch .... and that's where things go sideways.

His eyes sweep over the sleeping paladin -- just registering the guy's there and not occupying the bathroom for his extended beauty routine. It's normal. Oh so normal. Except for the way that he can't stop staring. He wants to be irritable, you know. Bypass the good mornings and launch right into stop writing on me, damn it, but... god, he's so speechless and inexplicably tongue tied.

He'd ask what the hell's going on, except.... it doesn't actually feel like anything's going on. In fact, it's like everything's aligned and warm and....

He needs to quit staring immediately. He isn't succeeding.]

[spazzed]

( first off — why would lance do something like write his name on your wrist, keith? that's just … silly in a juvenile way that one might have actually expected from him to begin with, but that's not the point, because this one time something isn't actually his fault.

but moving right along because that isn't the point. the point is that eventually lance is going to notice the other's name on his own wrist, and while he might not immediately jump to the conclusion that keith had put it there himself, he might. well, of course he'll wonder why it's there, but it's more than likely he'll find himself still staring at the person the name belongs to than anything else.

so.

keith apparently notices him first, and of course it's only a matter of time before his eyes are open and trained on the other's form standing just off to the side; he rolls over onto his side in one jerky motion, trying still to blink the sleep out of his eyes as he rubs at them, but that only proves to center his focus even more on the lines of him, the way he's standing, and he's pulling himself into a sitting position before he knows it.

he can't stop staring. he should stop staring — but he can't, and he still hasn't noticed the name on his wrist, but it doesn't seem all that important when literally everything about keith is begging his attention.

finally: ) H— hi. ( like a dope. like the dope he is. but would you have really expected anything less? )

[marmoron]

[Oh. Oh god, he's awake. Horrified by the prospect of having been caught staring, Keith forcibly averts his eyes and looks down at the floor.]

...morning.

[Smooth. They're both so smooth this morning. Keith chances a quick glance back up, only to accidentally lock eyes. His heart skips a beat, and Keith bites the inside of his lip. Focus, damn it. Lance was scribbling on him while he was asleep; he can't get sidetracked by this inexplicable fluttering going on in his chest. Swallowing hard, Keith takes a deep calming breath, raking his fingers through his hair in an attempt to flatten the bed head a little.]

You.... uh .. get a little possessive last night?

[Why the heck is he so okay with this if that's the case.....]

forward dated to the 21st

[marmoron]

lance
[Even before Keith opens his eyes in the morning, he knows something is horribly wrong. His bed is warmer than usual, like there's a few extra blankets wrapped around his legs and the small of his back. The grogginess clears immediately when the gentle rise and fall of a chest pressed against his own registers as breathing.

Lance's breathing to be even more specific.

Keith opens his eyes, staring at the sleeping paladin curled up in his arms. He's not surprised -- of course he isn't. He wanted Lance to be here, close and tight, because every synapse fired, every beat of his heart, every part of his soul had known exactly where he belonged. Who he belonged to.

For a long moment, Keith is simply too horrified to know what to do. The intensity of those feelings are gone and the void that they leave behind is damn near paralyzing. He swallows dryly, half wanting to fling Lance out of bed, half not wanting to move at all.]

shiro
[It's a little later in the day when Keith finally works up any kind of nerve to be near Shiro. Admittedly, he'd been playing the avoidance game as much as possible when you're literally one wall apart, but after seeing Shiro's name on his wrist this morning, he didn't really want to risk making a fool out of himself around the guy. Or have things get weird between them too. When he accidentally spots Shiro going inside his room, Keith ducks back into his own, cursing under his breath.

Except nothing's really changed. Huh. It's at that point, he emerges from behind his door to go knock on Shiro's.]

Hey, Shiro?

[There'd been a different set of thoughts on his mind, but all of that goes to the wayside when the door opens and he spots the wilting floral arrangement.]

Those from a secret admirer?

[deadlining]

[ By now they've pretty much figured out how this whole name-on-wrist spiel works out, but knowing the mechanics doesn't make it any less awkward in execution. Watching Keith and Lance dance around one another for so many days has honestly been nothing short of exhausting to Shiro, for a variety of reasons. Waking up with Keith's name tattooed onto him had almost come as a relief there.

And though he doesn't feel all that notably different for it, Shiro's still glad for it when Keith finally stops avoiding him. ]

Keith, come in.

[ He gives a gentle smile, though his expression quickly changes to something more melancholy at the question. ]

Oh, no, I bought them myself. For... sentimental reasons.

[ At this point he should probably just tell Keith what happened, but it's difficult. Keith has a lot on his plate himself and there is simply no good way to speak about this. ]

[marmoron]

[Keith enters the room, closing the door behind him quietly. Maybe saying "nothing's changed" is a bit of an oversimplification; there's a degree of laxity in the atmosphere between them that's... not entirely new, at least not in his memory, but has felt a little more tenuous since reuniting in Hadriel. Ordinarily he wouldn't think to just go right up to the flower display out of respect for Shiro's private business, but it feels like it'd be an alright thing to do now.

Still, catching the look on Shiro's face makes him pause, then his own expression softens a little. It's easy enough to guess what "sentimental reasons" means, though it leaves him feeling an incredibly belated twinge of guilt.]

...For Adam, you mean?

[The question's soft; something gentle enough that it's easy to infer that he wouldn't be upset if Shiro brushed it off with a one word answer and changed the subject.]

[spazzed]

( it's been a couple of days at least since he's woken up by himself, since he'd moved from the couch to a bed that wasn't his own, and for those couple of days, he's been the most pleased, felt the most at ease with everything that he can remember, and it goes without saying that that mostly includes since he'd come through the door to end up here.

but this morning, it's different. he isn't even completely awake and it feels different, though everything of note is the same as it has been for the past handful of days; the rise and fall of keith's chest close to his own, the sound of his breathing, the warmth of him something that's become familiar, calming in its own way, a balm on nerves that have a tendency to be frazzled more often than they aren't.

it's different in the sense that all those feelings that had stolen over him in the small hours of the morning not a week previously are gone, but the memories of them are still there, as vivid as if they'd been placed there in his dreams the night before and while he doesn't make it known that he's awake just yet, there's no going back to sleep and pretending that he hadn't woken up in the first place —

even though there's a thought in the forefront of his mind that wishes he could. because …

it feels empty, already. and he knows he should move, knows he should put some distance between them before keith does it himself ( because somehow, it's better that way, if he thinks he has a choice in the matter ) but he. doesn't. doesn't dare move because he doesn't want to think about what it means. what it's going to end up meaning. )

[marmoron]

[Time has protean tendencies at the best of times and though it's probably been less than a minute since Keith has woken up to this absolute mess, each second drags out and the silence in the room feels like it's crushing the air out of his lungs. Keith doesn't know why he still hasn't fucking moved or told Lance to get out. Maybe it has to do with the way his throat's gone too tight for words, maybe it's the way his whole body is still rigid with embarrassment.

It's funny. In the most superficial sense, he's still got nothing but Lance on the mind. But where thoughts of Lance had once been warm and brought an easy smile to his lips, overnight it's as if all that warmth superheated and turned to ash. Keith knows this is ridiculous; he knows he's thinking more clearly now than he has been at any point during last week and that you cannot actually mourn a relationship you never had to begin with, but...

But what?

Keith forces himself to breathe out evenly, slowly. Deep calming breaths. Because there isn't anything to freak out about. Nothing at all.]

Lance...

[Barely louder than a whisper and yet it's the best he can manage right now.Some cowardly midground where he can claim he took some kind of action, even if it's far from a decisive one.]

for Allura, sometime... earlier after her arrival?

[deadlining]

[ The Door really has a preference for Paladins, it seems. Though there is no real discernible pattern to the way it pulls in people, Shiro finds it hard to think of this as a coincidence. And normally he'd be glad for the team being together, but it's hard to really feel this way when they're stuck in what seems like yet another space war, totally unrelated to their own. Allura's really seen enough space wars and yet...

Yet they have to welcome her into their messy three bedroom home. Initial settling in done with, Shiro has taken it upon himself to make it slightly less messy. Removing mammoth tusks from the very middle of the living room is step one here. ]

We ought to apologize, Princess. This is hardly an upgrade from sleeping in the lions.

[ This is the polar opposite of what he said when he himself arrived here, but shhh. Royalty probably has different sensibilities. ]

[quintessent]

[Space wars are becoming just an every day part of life for Allura — more familiar by now than her life as a princess on Altea. But she never gave up hope of a peaceful future, (although the question of where she fit into that peaceful future remained unanswered) and hoped to someday live beyond the shadow of the war with the Galra.]

[Perhaps she got her wish.]

Not at all. [She shakes her head earnestly, following Shiro around the living room, a few objects tucked under one arm as she helped in the cleaning effort,] At least here there is proper bedding.

[...Thanks to Lance. She feels guilty that one of them felt compelled to give up their room for her sake and as much as she insisted otherwise, there was no talking Lance out of it once he got it in his head. But she was grateful, because as much as she didn't feel like she should get any special treatment, she couldn't deny her preference for having a space to herself — less about needing to be alone and more about the inherent awkwardness of co-ed living.]

And without Coran's snoring, I may finally be able to sleep, [It was meant to be a joke, but it makes her realize this is the first time she's been without him since before she met the others. She clears her throat, moving to help Shiro,]

Here, allow me, [It looks a little awkward for him one-handed so she she offers both of her own to help haul the thing off of the ground.]

It's... [Ah,] may I ask why do we have one of these in the first place?

[deadlining]

Ah, thank you.

[ Yeah, the tusk is a bit too long to comfortably carry with only one point for gripping. Shiro really wants it gone from the ultimate Tripping Hazard Zone though. ]

And they're for Cosmo. Giving him his own things to chew on makes him leave the furniture alone. [ ... ] Keith got them in the mammoth stampede two months ago, I assume.

[ .......... ]

I also heard something about Keith and Lance pulling dragon teeth last month, so we might be dealing with a trend here that requires intervention.

For Keith > Rage Event, hides my stream-of-conscience angst in catchall tbh

[quintessent]

[Allura is nearest to Rage's temple, far from home, when the wave hits the city, and it doesn't rock her nearly as much as she can feel the normal calm start to slip away. A sense of loss — something she's carried with her longer than she'd care to admit, wrenched from the deepest parts of her mind. And thoughts that bubbled forward, unbidden and impossible to ignore.

Her home. Her people. Everything she knew. Everything that she was. Gone. Taken from her time and time again. Even when she'd had a choice— was there ever a choice, really? To sacrifice her father's memory or let her friends perish. To lose her castle or lose everything. What kind of choice did she have?

Her thoughts spiraled. Twisting into a knot behind her chest and low in her gut. So powerfully that she hasn't even noticed that she's stopped walking until she's reaching out for the nearest wall for support. Distantly, she knows this is abnormal, that her thoughts are getting away from her. But she was powerless to stop them. As powerless as she'd been to stop the slaughter of her people. Even ten-thousand years later nothing had changed.

A wretched noise escapes her, something choked out like a sob and she squeezes her eyes shut against the wave of anger as it took over her body, like an illness. Dark anger aimed at everything: Zarkon, the Galra, her father, her friends, but mostly herself.

She's hardly aware of how long has passed while her thoughts swirl black — it could be moments, or hours — but the next thing that pulls her out of it is a noise behind her and she turns, unaware or unconcerned by the tears that stained her face, and when she saw who it was-]

Leave me alone, Keith.

[marmoron]

[The last thirty minutes have been, to put it mildly, an utter shitstorm. Keith hadn't told any of his housemates where he was going or why, but the fact of the matter is that despite having been there the moment Delight was killed, he still hasn't fully processed what the fuck just happened. One minute they'd been arguing amongst themselves about whether they ought to charge in with Delight's plan, the next the Null had arrived suspiciously early and chaos erupted before anyone could think to grab a blade or take any other kind of action.

The next thing Keith knew, they were all back at Fear's temple -- dazed, confused and then euphoria. It's been a long while since Keith was that happy, but he remembers the moment he and the other survivors of Cartesio managed to bring all their friends back from the dead. The way it'd felt to see Millium and Cian again after so many weeks of worrying about their well being on the other side. The way he, Natalie and Kino had decided to travel together as a trio. The way that it had all felt as though being a clone well and truly didn't matter -- that he was his own entity, had found a new place to call his world after being displaced from the world of Voltron....

...And then all this happened. The insane happiness doesn't last and it leaves ashes in his mouth. Emptiness that he can't even begin to fill, no matter how hard he thinks about the life he has now with the paladins -- friends -- he thought he'd never see again. Shiro, Lance and now Allura. They're all here, and though he still doesn't know if he has a place with them, he knows at least that he wants them to be safe. To know that he cares.

It's with that thought in mind that Keith takes off at a run towards the house. He has to warn the others that this deal with the Null ended badly and that the Null could strike at any moment in retribution, but he doesn't get farther than Rage's temple when he spots a familiar figure leaning over a building.

Allura.

The concern is about as far as he gets before he takes a sharp intake of breath at her mixed body language. There are tear stains on her face, and though she could clearly use some comfort, she's telling him in so many words to get the fuck away from her. Keith takes a deep breath, trying to shake the severity of that off It's not what she said; he needs to quit taking that personally, but it's just so damn hard when he's already feeling out of place and just... lost.]

No.

[The word comes out sharper than intended, fists clenched because the tension he's feeling needs some kind of outlet.]

Allura, c'mon. Let's go.

[He really does know better than to grab her arm. On some level. He knows better than to boss her around. But the situation is potentially dire and whatever it is Allura's crying about right now can bloody wait.]

[quintessent]

[He grabs her arm and it's like a wave of anger, more potent than she's ever experienced before, and there's a part of her that knows he has her best interests in mind — she trusts him, he's her friend, they've been through so much together — but those thoughts are drowned out but another voice. An insidious, cruel thing that reminds her of when it had been a different hand, when Lotor had tried so gently to take her hand even as he tried to convince her that the blood staining them had been necessary. As if they could just go back to the way it had been, only dobashes before when she'd been blissfully ignorant and happy.

(It made her sick to think of how happy she'd been. Shame at how she'd so looked forward to spending time working on the Sincline ships. Spending time with him. Everyone had been willing enough to write off her infatuation as the fault of Lotor for manipulating her,or at least pretend that it didn't happen at all, but she could not so easily forgive herself. The rest of them didn't know how much she'd relished those moments, not just because of infatuation but because she relished feeling important and needed and useful; like there was a spot in the universe carved out just for her. Had Keith not found Romelle and the rest of the colony, she wondered if she'd still be cozied up and helping a murderer)

So it's with more than a little rancor that she yanks her arm away, hard enough that she stumbles backwards a step, her voice fragile, but more with anger than sorrow,]

Don't touch me.

[At least she didn't throw him into the ground (yet). It's almost dizzying, trying to keep a hold on herself, to see clearly without the hints of red at the edge of her vision, and it's all she can do to clench her jaw, pulling at the smallest thread of rationality that she still had left,]

Just. Go by yourself. You don't need to pretend to be concerned over me.

[Okay so maybe that thread hadn't been so rational.]

EXPLORATION MISSION

[marmoron]

Snowstorm

[marmoron]

[Keith had been meaning to make the trek out towards the mountains for a while now. He's never been good at staying put and leaving questions unanswered, but even he had to acknowledge that this wasn't a solo mission. If nearly getting beheaded by squid aliens had taught him nothing else, it's that there has to be a team.

There's been a lot of new information posted lately about things people have learned from looking around in the bunkers and ever since that debacle of a hostage exchange happened, he's been curious to go scout out more information. It's going to be dangerous, of course. The Nul are probably more on guard than they were before, but if nothing else he knows he can count on Allura, Lance and Shiro to know how to handle themselves in any situation. They can do anything together.

With supplies and warmer clothes packed and ready to go, the team and Cosmo leave the city of Hadriel behind and start the trek towards the mountains in the distance. It's almost nostalgic really, even if Pidge and Hunk's absence feels all the more noticeable for the lack of technochatter. Nonetheless, they still have their resident babbler with them, and the several day trek through the tundra passes by with surprisingly few complications.

But in the words of that same babbler.... wait long enough and something will come along to try and kill us.

It starts as a sub Arctic windchill that Keith is largely indifferent to, thanks to the insulation of his Blade suit, but he starts looking more uneasy as he glances at the others. The concern increases exponentially when the sky turns a murky grey and sheets of snow whip around in every direction. Teeth grit as he raises his arm up to his mask, he squints at the horizon, then turns back to the others, all of them only recognizable by the colors on their mostly white armor.]

Stay together!

[He reaches out to grab the hand of the nearest person.]

Bunker

[marmoron]

[Aaaand after a several day trip across less than favorable weather conditions, the gang's made it to the mountainous region where the Null supposedly have a stronghold. It's quiet -- suspiciously so, and for everyone's sanity we're gonna hope it stays that way.

As they carefully start looking around, there's something a little odd about one of the hills. The surrounding area is covered in snow, but along one side of a certain hill, there's no snow covering it at all.]

Guys, over there.

[A closer look at it reveals what appears to be a large metal door. The fact that it's strangely warm to the touch makes it clear why it hasn't blanketed in snow like the rest of the hill. Or rather they'd know that were the case if anyone tried to touch it. On the ground, there's a screen with prompts set in an unfamiliar language. Under his breath while the others gather round:]

Seriously beginning to miss Pidge.

[deadlining]

[ Shiro is glad they made it. Though he's a resilient man, the days and days of ice and snow had been starting to get to him a little as he was growing restless about neither knowing how far their journey would take nor what was going on back in the city. The door is definitely a feast for his sore eyes.

One glance at that screen tells him that he has absolutely no idea how to navigate it, so rather than making the attempt, he leans his hand against the door to test its solidity. Unsurprisingly the verdict is 'very solid'. ]

We've worked our way through some Altean control panels before, so we'll manage with this language as well. We're just going to have to be patient.

For Lance > More dddraaamaa (Backdated to the dementors)

[quintessent]

[Winters were something of a novelty to Allura. While she was aware of planets with such phenomenons (and had visited them from time to time) this was her first true winter as more than just a visitor. And even if she hasn't developed a taste for the cold yet, nor for the way her boots would get stuck in the deep snow, she can't help but admire the beauty of it. The way that the snow and ice made the planet look like it was frozen in time, like a photograph or a painting. It was peaceful. And quiet.

Even in the Coliseum, there was some degree of silence. It's been some time since she last visited — one phoebe to be exact — but it seemed new under the fresh layer of snow. Nothing like the bombast and explosions of trees when she first arrived. Her boots crunched in the snow as she took measured steps to the center, the hand near her bayard relaxing when, at first, it seems peaceful, despite the confused chatter of the newest batch of abductees nearby.

It's not until something moves in her peripheral that she turns her head, the shadow disappearing as quickly as it appeared, and she doesn't have the time to wonder about the what before something else entirely catches her attention, nearly knocking the breath out of her all at once,]

"Poor Allura.”

[Her blood turns to ice.]

Lotor-! [Her voice is loud in her ears and there's the sudden sense of vertigo that has her reeling, legs suddenly weak and she's not sure if she catches her self, or if hedoes, long arms around her shoulders (he always surprised her with his reach, the sheer span on him) in a gesture that's almost soothing if not for the way it made her stomach churn. And all at once she's aware of all of the eyes on her, the stands of the coliseum filled — Thousands of bodies. Alteans. Humans. Olkari. Dozens of other races from every reach of the galaxy. Faces that she knew.
And voices. Both sinister—]

"Your weakness has brought nothing but pain and suffering to your people...

…cost the universe countless lives.

When you disappeared, that’s when the slaughter began… "

[And heartbreakingly familiar]

"When Lotor took the throne, every Blade was exposed…

…you’re the one that got us cozied up to Lotor.

The Galra have invaded earth,"

[Then, Lotor's singular voice in her ear, sickeningly sweet—]

”and it would've never happened had it not been for you.”

[Panic and guilt and fear grips her heart all at once, and she yanks her arm away.] Don’t touch me-! [Her voice, loud in the (empty) coliseum. But he’s not there, it’s not real (isn’t it though?) and in her own need to escape she sends herself toppling over into the snow, onto her knees. But the voices down stop, the visions don’t, not even when she squeezes her eyes shut and presses her hands over her ears. All the while in the shadow of a dark specter circling nearby.]

a million years later ...

[spazzed]

( he's been trying to help her acclimate the best he can, but he hasn't exactly been here very long himself, not as long as keith, but he still tries because he likes to think the effort is just as appreciated as any real help.

things are strange, here, that's for sure; he'd figured that out the moment he'd woken up on the colosseum floor and ended up killing a dragon, taking a couple of scales and a tooth as prizes while keith himself had hacked off a good chunk of meat to take back to upside-down house. after that, it had been furniture coming alive and trying to kill them all and who the hell knows what else between then and allura's arrival, but it's all been a whirlwind of what the actual crap that he's still convinced he's trying to catch up to.

he hasn't been to the colosseum in a while, either, not since the last wave of new arrivals and while he's only glimpsed the monsters called dementors, he doesn't want to think about what they're capable of, except when he hears that familiar voice he's heading in full-throttle, worry in his expression and bayard in hand.

because keith had told him first and foremost, never leave home without it. he's learned since then that that had been the most honest thing he could have learned from the start, and he's thankful for it, though as a paladin … he really shouldn't be going anywhere without it in the first place.

when he gets close enough, he reaches out to touch her shoulder, trying to pull her out of whatever she's seeing or hearing or feeling because he can't see any of it for himself; he only knows that the swirling shadows around them have to have something to do with it, and he hates it, because this is the last place she deserves to be with everything that's happened to her. ) Allura — can you hear me?

( please. listen, if you can. i need to get you out of here. )

[quintessent]

[Her bayard is there too, forgotten and on the ground next to her. Like at some point she'd pulled it out in an attempt to defend herself, but it was too late before the visions began.]

Lance...?

[Her expression is confused when she looks up at him. Because she's sure she saw him in the crowd, she knows she heard him, among the voices and the visions, but here he is, solid and real as anything else.

She blinks hard, and her hand comes to grip his, tight as a vice. An anchor even as the voices still threaten to overwhelm. It's your fault.]

I'm sorry. I didn't- [A fragile breath, enjoy being on the other end of a conversation you aren't a part of, Lance] It's my fault.

ALSO FOR LANCE / backdated to march 21st

[marmoron]

[Ever since Delight's death, things have been off at Hadriel to say the least. Though his concerns about a counterattack from the Null haven't happened, the observation comes with a single addendum: yet. As such, the idea of relaxing was a bit of a far away fantasy.

Or really, maybe not letting his guard down and expecting the worst at every turn was just Keith's new status quo. Eventually though, that's going to take its toll. He wakes up feeling... not quite right. It begins with an insatiable urge to keep looking over his shoulder and avoid the hell out of everyone else in the house like his life depends on it. A stupid, irrational feeling that Keith tries to quash as much as possible. The couch isn't sprouting eyes, the weapons on the balcony aren't rattling ominously. Nothing is wrong.

Yet the feeling persists, intensifying exponentially as the day goes on. Skin practically crawling, Keith leaves the house, determined to get some fresh air. He has to marshal some goddamn sense into his head. Has to stop freaking out over nothing. But no matter what he does, something keeps telling him to run.

Keith never runs -- or at least, that's not his first instinct in the face of danger -- and the all encompassing need to just get away from everything because that's the only way he can possibly survive is all the more disorienting. He leans heavily against the side of the upside down house, a bead of cold sweat trickling down his forehead. The sound of approaching footsteps has him literally jump as he turns to look.]

Oh -- [Keith takes a few calming breaths. Just Lance. Safe.] Hey. You scared me for a second.

HERE WE FREAKIN GO

[spazzed]

( nothing about hadriel since his arrival has felt on in the same sense as it feels off literally all the freaking time; he feels like he's constantly stretching himself thin in order to keep up with everything that's happening, to understand everything that's happening and while the latter has never been in his favor ( in any capacity ), he's still trying, and that's. saying something.

keith isn't the only one that wakes up feeling not quite right, except it's effectively the very opposite of what the other feels stealing over him. lance wakes up with an itch, and unsettling level of restless energy that finds him wanting to. to. what? pick a fight with the first person he comes across. tear something down for absolutely no explicable reason and while he would normally find himself confused by it, the fog that has taken over residence in his head isn't about to let him start asking questions.

where keith's skin ends up crawling, lance's own feels like it's on fire the longer the day progresses,and that itch keeps on growing, and growing, until it feels like he might implode if some of that tension doesn't break. if he doesn't find some sort of outlet for that energy.

the unfortunate thing about all of this is that the first person he comes across. is keith. there's a fire that starts up in his blood when he sees him, heat threading through him even more than it already has, and his eyes narrow. ) What are you doing out here?

( not safe. not safe at all.

sorry, keith. )

nothing is wrong

[marmoron]

Huh?

[Keith blinks, obviously taken aback by the faint hostility. Maybe that's stupidity on his part for starting to assume there weren't any bad feelings between them. Or maybe it's.. something else? Despite every neuron in his brain telling him to turn and start running, Keith takes a half step closer to Lance.]

Nothing I just needed fresh air. Everything ok?

[Why are you acting like you're mad at me?]