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

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.

[spazzed]

( she touches his hand and it brings some measure of relief, because it means she realizes he's there and solid and real and can bring her out of whatever visions she'd been seeing in the first place; he can't see them for himself, of course, but it doesn't matter because he doesn't need to.

what he needs to be is a calming presence, something to ease her out of the fear or sorrow or whatever else these things are making her feel, and what he needs to do is get her away from them as soon as possible.

he grips her hand back just as hard. ) Hey, yeah, it's me —

( it's my fault, she says, and his expression turns into something both confused and concerned all at once, and he blinks a couple of times, searching for the question he knows needs asking. ) Wait, what's your fault?

[quintessent]

[Lance's hand gripping hers is like a tether to reality. She's aware it's not real — Lotor is gone, her parents are gone, her people are gone- or far enough away that she can no longer reach them. She knows well enough how this place that toy with and manipulate her emotions by now. It's not real.

But isn't it? The visions and might be fabricated but what they're saying is reality. Words she's heard over and over again in her head. In the quiet moments of the night when there was nothing to keep her busy and she laid awake and wondered. What if she hadn't trusted Lotor. What if she thought to look for surviving Alteans. What if she'd never woken up from stasis in the first place.

She blinks hard, and shakes her head, trying to fight it back like she had so many times before. But they swell and spiral until it feels like there's nowhere left for the thoughts to go but out.]

Lotor. [There's no love in her voice when she says it, but she squeezes Lance's hand even tighter, as if reminding herself of the present— (He'd held her hand like this, she'd never forget how gently he held her, even as he tried to justify the blood of her people that stained them.)]

Because of me, everyone- [She cuts herself off, swallows hard and meets Lance's eyes. In a way this is a memory too, of when they'd talked before. As someone who's made a million mistakes... all you can do is pick yourself up and make things right again. But-] I wasn't able to make it right. I don't think I will ever be able to.