I'll never let you go [Closed]

[spaceforged]

Who: [OU] Takashi Shirogane, [OU] Hunk, the crew signed up to retrieve them.
When: August 15th and 16th
Where: Dream width and then airship
What: Two of Team Voltron got canon updated and now must be retrieved.
Warnings/Notes: Spoilers for season 6, swearing, violence, aaand idefk I'll add more if we need it.



The signal beeps in a steady rhythm like a heart monitor assuring all the patient is still alive. After vanishing a week ago, Takashi Shirogane's mark on the readouts gives no sign what's ahead.

Nor will Hunk's a day later. What does? The memory nebulas swirling with light and color. Just like any other retrieval.

Comments

August 15th

[spaceforged]

The memory swirls and clears revealing a wide flat plane of a desert wasteland. Shiro's voice sounds from your left, "We need to get Sam!" Just as memory Pidge shoots past you, followed by Matt and Shiro himself. In the distance the prince of the Galra and the present Emperor clash in a blaze of dual colored light. The concussion force hammers at you like an air fist but everyone manages to latch onto the side of the black and purple shuttle attempting to take off.

Pidge calls out as she slams her Bayard into the side, the whine of the engines masking the way it cuts into the metal. "We can't let the shuttle dock with the cruiser!" Shiro's right arm activates in a wash of purple as he joins the assault. "We need back up. Lance! We could use a little help down here."

Their coms snap on with a brisk reply. "We're already on our way!" If you look up you can see three sparks of light in the sky. Shiro pays attention to the shuttle. Together he and Pidge rip their way inside and drop down onto the inside of the shuttle. Matt grips his staff as he takes up a position at Shiro's right side.

Pidge has eyes only for the Generals. She stabs her bayard forward. "Hey," Her voice cracks like a whip as she brings it down in a slash, warming up her arm. "Let my dad go!" She lunges forward with Matt and Shiro racing in behind her. The red general, Ezor, and Shiro fall into a spinning dance of slashes and kicks. She races up the wall and gets behind him, slamming him to the floor. He rolls to his feet as Pidge and Matt engage Zethrid.

In the ensuing chaos not only is the ship tipped upwards causing cargo to be slid back towards everyone. The ship gets tipped into a dive, destroying what gravity was in the shuttle. Sam Holt calls out for help and Shiro dodges Ezor's latest attack. "Just a sec!" Matt winces as he recovers from a blow. "Kind of busy here dad!"

This is where you come in. Protect Sam, help the assault team, and convince Shiro this is just a memory. Be careful and enjoy Zero G.

[balancingedge]

Keith's eyes widen as the memory comes into focus. A desert? He blinks, recognizing the other players immediately as the others fall in after him. He knew this was supposed to be Shiro's, so he automatically focuses on him, but...

Was this- one of the clone's memories? Had they instead found the clone again?

He doesn't get much time to think on it, because the moment he hears Shiro's voice, Keith is rushing after him and Matt for the shuttle. Black bayard already in his left hand and transforming into a blade. "Shiro!"

He needs to get to Shiro. They have to wake him up, no matter what. "Lance, try and find a secure position and get us some covering fire. Adrien, keep the generals off Commander Holt's back. Pidge," he glances to her, "With me." He's going after the generals himself as well. Besides, it's not like they-

Ah, quiznak. This is where he wishes he had his blade as well. Instead, he tries to land slide back and at an angle to avoid the cargo, calling his shield to take the brunt of it just before gravity says 'later, losers, I'm going for coffee.' He kicks off a crate, and aims (with a 19 roll) to slam into Ezor with the shield and send her into the wall. "Shiro, please."

[thegoofball]

This isn't how Lance remembers thing going - he recognizes the scene immediately. The inevitable double cross, the desperate ramp up of the deal, the fight between father and son.

But he hadn't been in the shuttle. He had been in Red, fighting the fleet off, and knowing already that the memory's can place people wherever the hell they want means he's not shocked by this event, but there's still a moment of disorientation as he sees the side of the fight he didn't get to see before.

"Got it!" At least he hopes he's got it. What if he doesn't got it? He doesn't have time to think about not gotting it, because everything's going topsy turvy and he's not as quick to avoid the cargo as Keith is. His armor at least works like how it's supposed to in the memory, and he can right himself as he pulls out his bayard.

"Is it bad I'm glad Hunk's not here right now, because he'd definitely be puking everywhere!" It's not the time for jokes, but it helps him consider this as something not...not as dangerous as it was, as he raises his bayard and it takes the familiar form of his gun. His shots aren't pinpoint accurate, with how he has to compensate for the abrupt shift in gravity, but he at least doesn't manage to hit any teammates. (And it's not like it matters - hitting anyone isn't vital for the mission.)

[modelcivilian]

He goes into this rescue completely prepared to be out of place. He'll take a moment to assess like the others were, noting the desert, the shuttle, and just plenty of fighting going on all around; fighting that's probably best not to get involved in.

Fortunately, Keith seems to have an idea on what to do. Okay, process of elimination said the oldest person here might be the Commander and the Generals would be part of the Galra.

"Leave it to me!"

He can do this, right? He's not trained for this combat, but he's not a superhero completely for show either. Though, he's not even able to act before everyone's tilted and his eyes widen at the cargo coming towards them. He barely maneuvers away from them and flails momentarily as gravity decides to not be a thing. It'd be nice to have his baton right now. All mental griping aside, he scrambles to catch hold of whatever he can and proceeds to quickly propel himself towards Commander Holt.

August 16th

[chefbayardee]

(( Locked: Futaba, Marinette, Castor, maybe a Paladude if they feel so inclined! Also, tag or prose style is fine, this just Worked for the top-level. ))

The retrievers awaken to a rumbling feeling and to a light. A bright, piercing, all-consuming light, one antithetical to the inky blackness of space they might expect. In fact, if they look towards the source, they see light into infinity, barring black particle clouds randomly throughout. This is the quintessence field, the space between dimensions, ripped asunder by crafts made of ancient Altean alchemy. Of course, each member of our intrepid retrieval team is the cockpit of one of the Voltron Lions: Futaba in Green, Marinette in Blue, Castor in Red, and then Hunk himself in Yellow. Should one (or two) of the Paladins want to join, they would be piloting Black, which may be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity or just... awkward.

"I underestimated you, Princess." The voice belongs to Lotor, waiting across some length of space in his Sincline mecha. He crosses his swords and charges forward. Voltron charges forward and as it crosses blades with the enemy, it becomes apparent that... each member of the retrieval team knows how to do this. Maybe it's actually the memory playing on its own and you're improvising, or maybe exposure to the quintessence field is making up the difference. It's worth noting that your focus isn't even torn between things like piloting and talking!

However, what outworlders and Hunk aren't yet aware of is that this all comes with a price. Quintessence corrupts in large quantities like this space between dimensions; energy levels, aggression, and negative personality traits are amplified. Overexposure to that pure, cosmic lifey energy will drive you mad in time.

Your mission has multiple parts: mitigate the emotion-amping effects of quintessence on Hunk, convince him this is all a memory, fend of Lotor, and resist the siren call of the infinite power of the quintessence field. For sanity, please also roll a d20 and include the number in either the subject line or within the tag itself.

9

[promiselisting]

Exhilarating.

In a word, that's how this feels right now. It's like the first time she ever sat in Necronomicon's cockpit, the liberated by the truth she'd just accepted, feeling knowing what to do and feeling everything respond under her fingers perfectly. It's incredible.

And it's enough that for a moment, she completely forgets why she's here. She's here to help a friend of course, that part stays solid in her mind. But for the rest of it? Those thoughts are all but swept away in the rush of energy and power from the quintessence.

"What do we need to do? Kick his butt, right?"

14

[thegoofball]

The controls in front of him are familiar - he remembers Black's cockpit, trying to see if Black would respond to him, but being inside of Black and piloting it is another thing entirely. That's not what gets his stomach to drop, though, as he looks into the glow of the quintessence field.

He remembers this. He was here.

"We need to get out of the field." His voice manages to stay steady, as he tries to think. He remembers Hunk, in Red's cockpit, telling him it was just a memory. That he already knew what was going to happen, and how that shook the memory apart before they were spat out into the void of the Dream Width. "Hunk, you know how this goes. You need to focus on that."

15

[doodlebuginette]

Okay.

This was all pretty above and beyond anything she'd ever seen or done.

She'd known, coming into this, that she was going to be wholly unprepared. That they'd end up in one of Hunk's memories. Marinette had prepared for that. What she hadn't been prepared for was waking up in something that looked like it was straight out of a video game. Except the stakes were much higher now, and this wasn't a game.

But this felt good. Even Marinette had to admit that. She'd thought zipping around Paris on her yoyo was amazing, but this was... so much better!

The sound of voices snapped her back to reality, and Marinette finally took a look around. Once she was satisfied that she'd seen all that she could see, she shifted a little in her seat to get comfy and finally focused on what she could see. "How do we get out of the field?" She's not trying to be difficult so much as she's genuinely curious. But then she seems to remember why they'd come here in the first place. "Do we have to fight that thing?"

Between retrievals mingle

[spaceforged]

Getting Shiro out of the Dream Width isn't hard. He barely hangs on to consciousness and loses the battle just as they get inside the airship. Down he goes into the whirling maelstrom of his own memories following the path back to where it all began. His body and mind are at a crossroads.

Whether he rises or falls, that's up to him. He sags in their grip, breathing slowing. The battle for his own life had begun.

[balancingedge]

[It may not have been hard, but the tightening in his chest, the thoughts going through his head... He'd pushed them all aside for a moment so they could focus on the more important thing they needed to deal with: helping Shiro just a little more.

He felt his best friend and mentor slip as he sagged into him. "Lance, help me get him to the lounge!" If he had his strength from home, he'd be able to handle it on his own. Yet he knew that Lance also needed to do something or he'd go out of his mind.

Once the lounge is set up, he leads them to laying him on the pillows and blankets. He knew none of them would want to leave his side. Plus, it would give Futaba, Pidge, and anyone else with healing abilities the room to work.

Yet as he soon sits there at his right side, left hand resting on metal shoulder, the thoughts he'd been keeping at bay since they found him came back to him. That memory had been the clone's, right? Then, how did Shiro...? How did he know it? Was it because of what Allura did?

One thing is sure: if they need him, it would be easy to find Keith. He isn't leaving Shiro's side.]

Hang in there, Shiro. [His voice is soft, wishing he'd picked up a job with a healing spell so he could help. Yet even with white mage, he wouldn't have been able to this early. He knows that, and yet... He hasn't felt this powerless in a long time.]

[promiselisting]

[ Well, she can't help with the feeling-helpless part, but Futaba can (and is) helping with healing. Especially since she's halfway to mastering Astrologian by now. She stole a couple pillows but she's sitting on the ground next to the couch, casting a steady stream of Benefics. Or really, just a steady stream of healing magic, it's not like they have to worry about turns here. What is this, an RPG?

She's only got like... so much juice at any given point though. And finally at one point she breaks off with with a slight grunt, looking maybe a shade paler than normal. She'd be winded if you could.... get winded sitting down; she honestly hasn't done a lot of straight healing like this. At the very least though, the sensation of being hunched-over and stiff is familiar. Straightening up, she arches her back a bit, reaching her hands back and mashing them into the base of her spine, feeling vertebrae pop.

And glances over at Keith. ]

How's he looking?

[ She hasn't. Really had the chance to watch, all of her focus going into maintaining the flow of magic. ]

[balancingedge]

[Keith remains silent as she casts her spells, not wanting to break her concentration. He pulls a bottle from his pack with one hand. Sven had been generous enough to buy them some ethers when he finally got out of him that Shiro... likely wouldn't be in the best of shape when he returned. He hates that he's right, but all the same. He's glad one of them can do something to help.

He holds the bottle out to her, gaze not leaving Shiro's face - hoping Shiro would show some signs of awareness - when he notices she's had to stop. Fingertips move to over the carotid artery to check his pulse. This would be so much easier if their suits would work like they were supposed to. He could have his vitals on a holographic screen instead of having to rely on old training he had in the Garrison.]

Breathing is less shallow. Pulse is weak, but steady.

[Yet those would only do so much and he knows it. Right now, it's more up to how much fight Takashi has in him.]

[thegoofball]

[Helping to carry Shiro to the lounge is the least Lance can do - seeing Shiro like this, it just brings back all the guilt. It brings back every piece of blame Lance placed on himself, every terrible thing he thought about himself because of how he had failed Shiro.

Shiro had called out to him for help. Allura had sensed something was wrong, that he was acting odd, and Lance had brushed it aside. There had been so many signs, so many things that should have helped Lance realized he had to do something, that he had just willfully ignored.

He had hoped he could be over it again, but it's just coming back all over again, and he hates it. After leaving Shiro in the lounge - he should give Keith space, he should - he goes and stalks the airship. But the ship's not big enough, there's nowhere for him to run, and Hunk-

Lance ends up back in the lounge, stomach tangled into knots. His eyes are bloodshot and puffy, the tip of his nose red, but he bites his lip as he comes up to Shiro.]

How's he doing?

[Is there anything they can do for him? Anything at all?]

[balancingedge]

[Keith hasn't budged other than to check Shiro's pulse once in a while. It's remained the same ever since Futaba did all she could to heal him. He frowns, trying not to go over everything in his head as he sits there on his knees; all the signs he had just shrugged off as Shiro's illness. Yet it doesn't stop his eyes from stinging as he hears Lance approach, but he doesn't let himself slip. Not yet. One of them has to remain strong for them.]

His physical injuries are healed for the most part. [He starts, motioning for Lance to join them.] Pidge and Futaba have done what they can. Now it's just waiting to see when he wakes up.

[When, not if. Even now he refuses to give up on him. He can't. Shiro's done so much for him, that he can't imagine him not opening his eyes again.

Just like it is back home. He wants to punch a wall, and yet... he can't bring himself to move.]

Post-Hunk (cw: panic attacks, dissociation)

[promiselisting]

[ Her hands are still shaking by the time they get back to the airship. A lot of her is shaking, or maybe it's the world that's shaking. Jumping and skittering and threatening to move on its own in wrong ways and directions. Herself too, for that matter.

She makes her excuses. She knows she's probably worrying the others - worrying Hunk, who has enough to deal with already without her messed up head making things worse - but she can't stay here. So instead she bolts (or at least bolts as best she can in this state), letting the others figure themselves out. Instead she finds a quiet corner of the infirmary and parks herself there, curled up into the tightest of balls. Clenching her hands as tightly as possible so she can't feel her fingers quivering and twitching practically of their own accord, feeling like so much foreign lumps of meat attached to her body. Instead she feels her nails digging into her palms. Her glasses pressing into her face. The cold hard floors and walls. A soft thing that makes her flinch at first but turns out to be her Carbuncle. He's brought her tablet too, and the rational part of her mind thinks maybe she should text Ren, or somebody, but she's not sure she can trust her hands yet. So instead she breathes.

Breathe. Just breathe.

....

Once she's. Collected herself enough, she'll make the rounds of the ship, checking to see if everyone's okay. If anybody needs any healing. If they don't need anything, and don't ask anything, she doesn't linger. Instead she's going to go find another corner and just. Pass out then and there, hugging her carbuncle. Not the comfiest cuddle buddy, nor the coziest spot but. She's slept through worse, and she's exhausted. ]

[littlemhigan]

[ Castor is dozing in the lounge when Futaba makes her rounds, but she rouses at the girls' questioning, and though she herself is fine, she stops Futaba before the younger woman can disappear again. ]


Lass, are ye alright? I know we're all exhausted, but ye look like the life's gone from ye...

[promiselisting]

[ Her kneejerk reaction is to just. Not say anything. She's very, very tired. She's wrung out in so many ways. She's pulled herself together, mostly. But if she's going to crash soon, probably. And hard. And with the whole festival thing coming up... ugh. And she doesn't know Castor... almost at all, really.

But Castor knows Shiro and Hunk. And they trusted her enough for her to be here. That should... count for a lot. ]

I- I'll be okay. [ Words are having a hard time finding their way to her mouth. ] Just... need a break.

[ They all kind of need a break, really. ]

[balancingedge]

[He'd been asleep when the group returned from saving Hunk. Finally convinced he could let his guard down and trust Lance and the others. Yet, being the light sleeper that he is, he hears the hurried footsteps and wakes with a start, seeing the head of red hair as she runs into the infirmary.

Keith rubs at his eyes, forcing himself from Shiro's side. He had to keep to a routine, anyway. Might as well check on their friend while he was at it.

When he enters the doorway, he sees her just in time to note the carbuncle puppet handing her the tablet. He frowns, but otherwise remains silent. Waits for her to collect herself a bit. He knew that look anywhere; he'd seen that glint in Shiro's eyes one time too many, back when King Alfor's AI was corrupted. Waits for her to make her rounds before approaching her.

He makes his footsteps purposely louder in order to not startle her further.]

Hey. There's some extra blankets and pillows by the couch if you want them.

[He leaves the door open. Won't push her to join them in sleeping off whatever she'd seen in the memory. He'd still offer them regardless.]

[promiselisting]

[ She appreciates the caution he takes. It ultimately means that she tenses a little bit when she first hears them, but there's more than enough time for it to leak out again by the time they're face to face. Well. Mostly leak out. She sees that look on his face though. Feels her own burn with guilt and shame and frustration. ]

I- [ She loses her first train of thought almost as soon as she starts it. ] Y-yeah. That'd... probably help....

[ Just because she can fall asleep on the floor or in the corner with almost nothing for comfort doesn't mean she wants to. ]

Approx. 2-3 hours after Recovery 1

[littlemhigan]

Castor busies herself; it's all she can think to do. She's too keyed up to take her rest.

So she makes sure the others are as comfortable as they can be; ensures they want for nothing and have essentials well in hand. She scours the rest of the airship for spare bedding, makes sure water as at hand, that Shiro is comfortable (as best she's able.)

But eventually her hands itch for work and she wanders to the Galley. She'd stashed a small toddy of whiskey before they departed, and busies herself gathering this and that and putting water on to boil...


Sometime later, she comes back into the room where the Paladins and their friends are holed up, with a stack of small cups in one hand and a pitcher of something steaming in the other, balanced somewhat against her hip.

"Alright," she says quietly, coming to kneel towards the edge of the gathering. "Made sommat fer everyone's nerves."

[balancingedge]

Keith has always been a light sleeper. So when he first hears the steps of someone else and not as familiar as the others over the hum of machinery, his eyes open slowly. He sits up again, rubbing at his eyes when he catches who it is.

Ah. Castor. He should have figured. He looks up, an eyebrow raised. "What is it?" he asks, taking a cup. He learned better after his own horrible reaction to nunvill, okay.

[littlemhigan]

"S' just a toddy," she explains quietly, handing Keith a half-filled glass for inspection. "Whiskey, lemon juice, honey an' water. Good te clear ye of disease, good te calm yer nerves, good te help ye sleep. I made it a mite sweeter than usual, but I thought it might be appreciated."

Observing Recovery One

[modelcivilian]

[After gathering almost all the blankets and pillows from the infirmary, Adrien had backed away and given space to the others. For one thing, he had no skills to contribute to Shiro's overall physical recovery; for another, the team needed space to see Shiro themselves. He was their leader, friend, and likely more in some cases, but basically, them getting to check on him first was akin to family getting to see any hospitalized family before anyone else.]

[So he checked back every so often, giving them space but wanting to make sure they're all okay. There really is little else he can do. In fact, he really should stop hovering around the door.]

[spaceforged]

[One of the times he checks, Shiro is sitting cross-legged with his back against the ship wall. He sees him and smiles,]

Hey. I'm okay. Sorry, I vanished like that...it wasn't my choice. How have you been? Other than the sudden invasion of Team Voltron and our psychically connected cats.

[modelcivilian]

[He's surprised to see Shiro up, but if he's feeling well enough... Adrien jumps a little, but then smiles back.]

It's okay... I mean, you probably couldn't help disappearing like that... or, whatever happened exactly. [So, he wasn't too upset or anything... kind of... slightly... minutely...] I've been okay for the most part. I'd like to think I helped, but I don't think it was enough.