gone are the glad hands, the black holes & liars;

[spazzed]

Who: allura, keith, lance, shiro
What: catch-all for april
Where: upside-down house, all over the city probably, everywhere as usual
When: now through the month of april
Warnings: currently none, unless a game of truth or dare with the paladins is worth a warning ( it might be, who are we kidding here )

Comments

TRUTH OR DARE

[spazzed]

but what is it? ( discussion )

[spazzed]

( to say that a lot has been happening lately would be putting it mildly. really mildly. like taco bell sauce mildly — but that isn't the point. not really, because with this whole planet-jumping thing and the aftermath of recent events lance has found himself a little more spastic than usual.

and you know that's saying something.

it doesn't help that so much time spent in a climate-controlled ship has made him far less immune to heat and humidity than he had been at home, and he may or may not have taken a couple of cold showers earlier in the day to try to stave off the way his clothing is beginning to stick to him in very, very uncomfortable places; it isn't often that they're all in the same place at the same time, but somehow, miraculously they're all in the living room and while they all seem immersed in … whatever they're doing, a sudden and tremendous idea pops into his head.

because he has had enough of this. time for a morale boost. or. something. ) I've got an idea, guys. ( he starts out, sweeping sweat-damp hair off of his forehead and setting them all with a determined look. ) When was the last time any of you played Truth or Dare? ( a beat, and his mouth pulls to the side. ) With the exception of Allura. ( he turns to look at her. ) Unless you had something like that on Altea?

( lance. it would really help if you explained what it was to her before you started asking questions.

buuut that isn't going to happen just yet. )

[quintessent]

[To say the last month has been a lot would be an understatement. An emotional person by nature, Allura doesn't really need any god's help messing and muddling around but that exactly what she got. Thus, it's nice, for the moment, to have some peace, time that feels normal (or as normal as things got around them), and even if it's unbearably hot and humid, she's happy for the quiet time in their upside-down house.

Speaking of hot and humid— it's not so much that she's immersed in braiding her hair when Lance speaks up, but if she doesn't, it won't be long before she's immersed in her hair. Luckily she has some help in the form of four small mice, who continue their work even as she pauses, looking up to blink at Lance,]

“Truth or Dare?” [Her confused tone is as much of an answer as anything, but she shakes her head anyway, sending the mice scrambling to hang onto strands of her hair as they're swung in wide arcs around her. Sorry mice.] Is like your Killbot Phantom game?

let the game begin

[spazzed]

( go ham, y'all. )

[quintessent]

[For some reason Allura is going first. Because I have to have at least one question she does wrong.]

Lance. I dare you... to do a handstand?

[:D?]

and because we all love lancey-lance

[marmoron]

[AFTER THIS DAMN MOUSE KISSING FIASCO, Keith's just going to looking their resident sharpshooter in the eye.As some wise Galra out there has probably said.. vengeance or deat.]

Truth or dare, dragon slayer?

yooo

[marmoron]

[truth or dare this friendly face.]

[spazzed]

( he's making you do this, keith. )

Truth or Dare?

[quintessent]

[Just be glad that Lance took her first one, or else she'd be picking for you,]

Which one do you want, Keith?

hit him

[deadlining]

[ So well, this is happening and Shiro hasn't run for the hills. He's sitting on the floor, back resting against the couch and looking into the round. ]

Alright, go ahead. Ask.

[marmoron]

[Since it was Shiro's vote that created a majority here.....]

Truth or dare.

[Time for some vengeance.]

[quintessent]

Do you want a truth or a dare, Shiro?

[She's got the swing of this game by now.]

OOPS this time in the right spot

[quintessent]

[At least Allura looks happy about it.]

[deadlining]

Alright, Princess, let's commence this cultural lesson.

[ Because that is what this is now. Educational experiences, hurray! ]

Truth or dare?

[marmoron]

[Because a certain space princess wanted the full ~sleepover game experience~]

So uh... truth or dare, Allura?

for lancey lance

[marmoron]

[Keith settles on the roof of their upside-down house, one leg bent and brought close to his chest, the other dangling over the edge. Nights are a little less oppressively humd which makes it a lot easier to actually tthink instead of staring off into space with a blank expression. Truth be told though, he's been finding of late that "staring into empty space" really means staring at Lance when he doesn't think anyone's looking. Who knows just how subtle that's been over the last couple of days.

Maybe that's not surprising at all. We need to talk, they'd said and then never followed up on. He meant to -- really, seriously meant to, but following the chaos that ensued after Delight's death and the subsequent push from the gods to jump worlds to escape Null retaliation their interpersonal problems have just fallen to the wayside.

Or so he thought. Staring down the end of a broadsword tends to correct one's impressions pretty quickly. When it's all said and done, he knows that had all been more god-fuckery, but the underlying point hasn't changed at all. They do need to talk instead of just tiptoeing around the issue.

So. Here they are. On the roof. Staring up at a clear night sky after he's prodded Lance awake from his couch-bed at some late hour in the night. There isn't any real need to be nervous and yet... he's tongue tied less than a minute into being settled. Keith waits until Lance takes a seat next to him before speaking.]

Hey. [....] Okay, I said that before already. [A beat. Maybe it's just best to dive right in without some flimsy small talk lead in that they might pointlessly bicker over.]

Look. I know I'm bad at this. I know we should have talked sooner. Sorry. I had a lot on my mind. That's not an excuse, I get it and I never meant to shut you out. I want to talk to you. About everything.

[Rambling. He should stop rambling.]

Starting with are we okay?

[spazzed]

( normally, he'd complain at least a little about having his beauty sleep interrupted, but being woken up in the middle of the night by a worried-looking keith had him rolling off the couch in an instant, because they've needed to talk for so long that he might have caught himself wondering if it would ever happen at all.

even if. there have been extenuating circumstances, even more being pulled around on strings by the gods and every time he thinks about what had happened following delight's death, every time he remembers the words that had come out of his mouth he cringes, something that travels down to the marrow of his bones and he wishes more than anything that he could take it all back. because it isn't true —

( or maybe on some level, some of it is; he doesn't want to think of himself as the kind of person that keeps things so bottled up like that, locked away until it all erupts from him in a solid wall of pain and hurt and horrendous overreaction. because there is nothing that would have found him pulling his bayard on the other under normal circumstances. nothing. )

he sits cross-legged on the roof, close enough that he could reach out and touch keith if he wanted, but far enough away that he doesn't infringe on the other's personal space; a sort of compromise, all things considered, because he really does want to be closer to him.

he waits until he's finished, or at least takes a breath, before turning to look at him sideways, little more than a shock of dark hair and pale skin in his peripheral vision. ) A lot's happened lately … I mean, I'm not using that as an excuse either, but I thought we would talk eventually. ( unless i screwed everything up when rage messed with me. he doesn't say it, but it's there. ) I —

( he fumbles, huffs out a sigh, because he wants to get this right. ) We're okay. I want us to be okay, because I didn't mean any of the things I said before, when — ( you know when.

he chews on his lip as he pauses, tries to find a way forward that, again, doesn't find him tripping over his words. he looks at keith fully, uncertainty in his eyes, expression just short of fragile. ) Are we okay?

[marmoron]

Yeah. We're fine.

[His reply comes quickly, Perhaps a little too quickly, like it's a kneejerk response meant to stave off any deeper thoughts about the possibility of them not being okay.

But that's not the point of talking, is it? If he can't have an honest, vulnerable conversation with Lance, then he shouldn't have asked to talk in the first place. Brow furrowed, he interlaces his fingers and sets his hands on his knee.]

I mean... [Softer as he tilts his face just enough to look at the outline of Lance's face.] I know you weren't really yourself, but I was still kinda freaked out. [He swallows, looking away again.] ...Guess I'm just wondering if I messed things up by not talking to you sooner.

mid-may for Lance again. cw: silent hill mindfuckery and death

[marmoron]

[The fog hadn't been concerning at first, but that kind of nonchalance is a sentiment from fifteen minutes ago when the fog wasn't so thick that he could barely see an arm's length in front of him. Teeth grit, there's a slow drip of anger and fear induced adrenaline in his veins when he and Lance reach yet another intersection that's just as unfamiliar as the last one was.

In other words, they're lost. Keith has no idea where in Hadriel they are right now, and for all he knows they're just doing a lot of running around in circles. He comes to a stop, whirling around to look from Lance down the street. Shiro had always been fond of reminding him that patience yields focus, but the words are difficult to put into practice when the air he's breathing feels suffocating.

A wooden gate to a nearby house squeaks on its hinges and Keith immediately reaches for his Marmora knife. It's not an overreaction in the slightest, nope.]

Lance.

[It's barely louder than a whisper, though he doesn't know exactly why he's whispering. Wherever they are, it feels completely abandoned.]

Do you recognize anything?

all of the bad decisions are being made here

[spazzed]

( he's never been directionally challenged — at least not like some people would think him to be, because he's just a bit dense in other areas — so getting lost hadn't exactly been on the table when they'd first started out, and he can't say at all that he'd thought this was how things would pan out.

this place is. weird in a way he doesn't think there are words for, something that he can't put his finger on and it has nothing at all to do with the fog that's been steadily swirling around their legs since. since when, exactly? um. anyway, that isn't the point.

the point is that they're hopelessly lost, and every little sound in the distance has him ready to reach for his bayard, but keith beats him to the punch with his blade. at least he isn't the only about to jump out of their skin. ) … No. ( he says back just as quietly. and that's just as unnerving. )

Like. Nothing. Where the heck are we?

for allura backdated to may 15th

[marmoron]

[Keith doesn't know when or really even how he managed to get back to their home. Just that he's here, dazed and half wanting to pummel his bedroom wall repeatedly instead of being in direct proximity of either of his housemates. He doesn't even know where the other half is; it's just fucked off somewhere, lights off and shut down. For better or for worse, Allura happens to cross his path before he's able to shut himself up for the next god knows how many hours.

There are a lot of thing that Keith never expected to have to tell the other paladins. Rather naively, he thought "by the way, I'm a clone" would be the most uncomfortable thing he'd ever have to tell Allura, but this... ? This is by far the worst thing he's ever had to say to... well, not just her but to anyone.

And maybe most of it doesn't need to be said. Maybe it's all something she can infer without him saying a word. There are a few new scrapes and cuts on his face and hands, after all. Bloodstains soaking through the back of his jacket and smeared around his neck. It's not a pretty sight at all, and the red bayard held tightly in his shaking hand. He doesn't make eye contact; can't bring himself to look her in the eyes right now.

But he can't just keep walking either, so he stands in the middle of the room dead silent for a moment before forcing himself to say literally anything. His voice comes out hoarse and only atter he's cleared his throat.]

I... I tried.

[quintessent]

[It's not entirely by chance that she runs into him. The house has been empty for far longer than what feels normal, and call it intuition or paranoia, but it's just enough to set her ill at ease, leaving her pacing in the front room. When the door opens, when she hears the heavy sound of footsteps (only one set of footsteps) up the stairway of their upside-down house, her expression brightens and she turns-]

Keith...? [Relief shifts into alarm at the sight of Keith and her first instinct tells her to rush forward, to check him for injuries- see what she can heal, but there's something about his expression, the way he won't meet her eyes that turns her feet to lead, and she stands, wide eyed and searching him for answers. From the red staining his neck, into his hair and down his bloodstained jacket, to the white knuckled grip he has on his bayard-

No. Not his bayard.

Time seems to slow, and there's the dizzying sense of foreboding as all too suddenly it becomes obvious that the blood staining him has no logical starting point, no wounds that call for immediate attention. The floor seems to tilt under her as she tries not to jump to a conclusion that everything was pointing to otherwise. Her throat is tight and she shakes her head, working out the words to a question that she fears the answer to:]

Where... [She swallows, hands curling into fists at her side. Rallying her strength,] Keith. Where's Lance?

let's go to the beach-each

[spazzed]

( let's go get away.

except this is just a lake, but it's still swimming, and that's all that matters. )

[spazzed]

( he honestly doesn't know why they hadn't thought of this sooner, but in retrospect, things have been a little hectic for the last little while, and no one had really thought about trying to take the edge off with something as simple as a swim.

but here they are — the sun is high overhead, and while it might not be too late in the day just yet the heat is already close to sweltering, and he's already thinking about how good it's going to feel to finally get his splash on.

( and maybe it's been way too long since he's been in the water in general, and it's almost like. almost like being back home, even if that's the ocean and this is just a lake, there's still some measure of nostalgia that catches him unawares as he stands at the edge of the water.

wow. wasn't expecting that, were we? )

he shakes it off, looks back at his friends, beaming. ) Last one in's a rotten egg! ( because of course he would say something ridiculously corny like that. of freaking course. )

for keet, backdated to may 20th

[spazzed]

( one might think he comes to all at once, in a jolt, something that reminds him instantly of everything that had happened before, everything that had led up to the fact that he's no laid out on an altar in one of the god's temples.

( hope, his mind supplies distantly, something he must have heard from someone before, because there's no other way he would have known. he hasn't exactly made a habit out of learning much about the ones that run the show around here. not his business. not his fight. )

as it is, it's almost like. coming out of a deep sleep, consciousness clawing at him in fits and spurts until his eyes are flitting open and he's raising a hand to rub at his face; everything is still a little blurry, still a little hazy in the back of his mind but he is instantly aware of being able to feel everything below the waist again, and he almost laughs at that for some reason, some hysterical thing taking hold of him and supplying him with the memory of you died, man.

he remembers being cold. he remembers being carried. he remembers — ) … Keith?

( his voice is hoarse, thick with the way his tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth and he attempts to sit up, falters and ends up leaning up on one elbow, half-pulled up on his side. he pauses there, tries to swallow around some of the dryness in the back of his throat and falters there, too, reaching blindly for a presence he can feel lingering at the edge of his periphery.

he knows he's there. he has to be, doesn't he? or does he want it so badly that it's all just wishful thinking? )