melodiesofeternity | The craziest show in the galaxy, yup.

Entry tags:

The craziest show in the galaxy, yup.

Who: Takashi Shirogane, Keith, Lance, Katie “Pidge” Holt, and whoever else gets dragged into this madness.
When: November 10th (with possible additions later for Curti Center run ins)
Where: the Dream Width, and see above
What: When all save the former Black Paladin get pulled into the Dream Width within the span of a morning, it becomes an Adventure retrieving them.
Warnings/Notes: Spoilers up to the end of Season 7 of Voltron: Legendary Defender. Also game shows. I’ll add more if anything shows up.

It’s shortly after midnight when all three signals are caught by the Curti Center’s radar. Prior to that, however, there is another sign: the barriers of both Red and Green go down as both mechanical lions stir, a low rumble of a growl echoing among the two of them. Black looks up and roars. They’re back, but in trouble. Yet like with the two disappearances among their team before, there is no sign whatsoever of what lies ahead.

Just a signal, and three lions that desperately want to get off the ground and fly to their paladins.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

The airship is relatively quiet as they make their way toward the source of the signal, which beeps in a steady rhythm of a heart monitor. Though instead of one, there are three so close to one another it may as well have been one at long range. It’s unprecedented for all save potentially who it is caught in their dreams.

Yet until they reach the signal(s), there is only the nerve-wracking wait and one another for company.

As they near the memory nebula, it becomes obvious already why it nearly read as one signal: swirls of violet, red, green and black bleed and intermingle in the cloud of space dust. It is both three and one. As soon as they touch the cloud, the memories swirl and begin to take shape to reveal a... game show set? The stage has a space for five contestants on both the left and right sides, the colors bright yellows and oranges with white and cyan light accents; the screen a triangle surrounded by outlines blue and brown, and curved rectangles of blue and orange.

A green alien with a yellow keyhole symbol where a nose ought to be sits in a hoverchair in center stage as he smiles at the invisible audience. “I’m Bob. Now,” he gestures to stage left, “-let’s meet the intergalactic goofballs we’ve got playing with us today.” The five Paladins in full armor save their helmets rise up from platforms behind their podiums. All of them look to be as confused as those who are likely here to save them from… this.

“What is this place?” Allura, the Altean who is likely confused for an elezen by those who don’t know her, asks as she glances about. Hunk’s eyebrows furrow, perplexed as he looks ahead. “Looks like some kind of game show.”

“What’s happening?” Keith asks, keeping his voice low and his guard up as Lance’s gaze fixes on the host of the show. “I don’t know,” Pidge responds, “The last thing I remember, we were all flying in our lions.”

“Hi, there.” Suddenly Bob is in front of Keith, shoving his hoverchair’s microphone attachment into Keith’s face. Keith looks at him, shocked and off-centered. “Tell us your name and where you’re from.” Keith glares at him. “What is this?”

“Uh-oh. Looks like somebody wasn’t listening to Norlox.” The audience laughs mockingly at them, and Norlox “hmphs” at the team leader. “Tell them what this is, everybody!” Every single one of the Paladins look more than a little off-put by this turn of events as the crowd roars “GARFLE. WARFLE. SNICK.” and goes wild once again. “That’s right, the name of the game is Garfle Warfle Snick. Now, tell us your name, son.”

Bob looks at Keith expectantly, resting his chin on his hand and looking up doey eyed at the black paladin in red armor. “My name is Keith. How did we get here?” Bob grins. “I’ll tell you how Norlox got to be on the show. His uncle owns the studio.” Womp womp. “Alright, Keith, why don’t you introduce us to the rest of your team?”

“We’re the Paladins of Voltron.” The camera pans left to right. “This is Allura,” Allura stands at attention, deadpan, “Hunk,” Hunk waves, “Lance,” he gives the camera his best smoulder look (save him; please), “and Pidge.” She stares at Bob with an unimpressed look. “But you haven’t answered my question. How did we get here?”

“I hope not the same way I got here. A moofglider was jackknifed on the Haldar Expressway-” Bob starts rotating to the point he’s sitting upside-down in his seat. “And it took forever to get past it.” He rights himself. “I still smell like moof.” Ew. Keith slowly starts to look as though he is going to punch something (or, rather, someone). Also very shocked and disgusted as Bob leans back right in front of him and grins. After saying that. He withdraws his left arm so he can’t lean against it. “Okay, Keith, I’m sure you know how to play our game. All you’ve gotta do is accumulate quaz-cenbullion credits, and you win. Of course, if you don’t, you’ll hear this sound.” ...Well that sure sounds like the Jeopardy losing jingle played on a sad trombone. The invisible audience makes a sad “aw” noise in response. “And that means you’re trapped here in our studio for the rest of eternity.”

Pidge grimaces, Lance looks like his soul is about to evacuate his body, Allura and Keith both look in shock, and Hunk likely just voiced their thoughts for them, “Wait, what?”

“Did you say we’ll be trapped here for the rest of eternity?!” Thanks, Pidge. “Uh-oh. Is there an echo in here? Echo in here?”

Keith glares. “I don’t know who you are or what’s going on, but we’re getting out of here.” Bob laughs. “Oh, I don’t think so.” He snaps his fingers, sparkles appear across his face, and light forms beneath the paladins’ feet, encasing and trapping them. All of them are struggling to break free, but their legs won’t budge. Not even trying to remove their leg armor helps. “My feet are stuck.” Rip Lance. “Mine, too.” Thanks for seconding that, Pidge. Keith tries to lift his right leg as he stares down at what may as well be shackles attached to platforms gluing them in place.

“See, all of you are guests on my show and-” suddenly, things grow dark as Bob’s face comes into focus no matter who it is (even those who are here to save them). “will play my game as long as I want you to.” He grins as everything returns to normal. “Understand?”

Everyone viciously nods their heads. Except Keith, who only nods once. “Great! Let’s start with our first warfler. Tell us what it is, Norlox.”

“The first warfler is… Pictation!” The audience cheers as a green screen backdropped by rings of red, blue and pink. The light platform shackling Keith spins and hovers, dragging him to the center of the stage. “Come on over here, Keith.” Another podium appears out of nowhere in front of him. “Now, Keith, the answers will pop up on your screen where your team can’t see them. It’s up to you to draw the people and places you’ve seen during your adventures as a Paladin of Voltron while your team tries to guess the answers.” Oh, no. “Are you a good artist, Keith?”

He looks at him. Bob’s resting his chin on his hand again, smirking. “I, uh…”

Bob doesn’t give him a chance to respond. “Well, I hope you’re a better drawer than a talker, huh?” He waves his hand and suddenly in a puff of smoke, there’s a pacifier in his mouth and his hair is tied up out of his face as he gives their captor an unamused glare. The audience laughs.

Edited 2018-11-10 13:07 (UTC)

[ She is here because Shiro asked, because she cares about Keith and Lance and Pidge, and because others on her team came too. All those three things together. Nothing less could get her out here in the Dream Width again, prepping for another memory dive.

Still. It's almost impossible to really calm down. She's probably a few shades paler than normal as she paces. Trying occasionally to sit down with her iMog or her laptop or something but it doesn't last, it never does.

The sooner they get this over with, the better. Distractions welcome? ]

“The question is, Zarkon, which one is it going to be?” Bob asks the hulking alien standing across the stage from the Paladins. He seems all too pleased that one of them is going to have to take on the next warfler alone thanks to Zarkon’s play of the solo card.

Zarkon puts his hand to his chin, miming thoughtfulness. “Well, I think there’s really no choice here.” His voice gets louder as he speaks, before he points across the stage. “I’m going with the dumb one!”

Lance blinks, as the camera zooms in on him. He turns to Keith. “Who’s he talking about?”

“It’s time for a word from our sponsors,” Bob says as the audience laughs at Lance. “But when we get back, Lance will be starting the next warfler all by his lonesome. Stick around.”

Lance sounds confused and dejected when he pipes up as Norlox begins announcing the sponsor. “Wait...I’m the dumb one?”

There is, of all things, a screen wipe. The world shifts, but instead of the sponsored message for It’s Earth it’s Lance and Pidge, rummaging through the fountains of what’s undeniably a mall. Their pockets are loaded with change, but it’s not quite enough, yet.

There’s just a few GAC short of buying the Mercury Gameflux - an alien stops by the fountain with change, pausing for a moment before tossing it in. Lance sees his opportunity, and leaps for it - and there it is.

Just enough. He crows in victory, and the two begin their journey to It’s Earth for their prize.

“And now back to Garfle Warfle Snick!” The studio is back, with little fanfare. “Right before the break, Zarkon’s team decided to make one of the Paladins of Voltron play solo the next round, and the Paladin he chose was the dumb one, Lance.” He gestures as he speaks, motioning to Lance standing next to him with his arms crossed. “Hey, Lance, how’s it going?”

“Well, you know what, I’m not too happy about being referred to as “the dumb one”, like, 18 times.” Lance grumbles. He hates this? He’s not that dumb! Bob doesn’t seem to agree, waving a hand as he looks to the audience. “Oh, it was only about four times, you big dum-dum.” Womp, womp. “But now you’ve got a chance to change all of that and show everyone how smart you really are. Are you ready for that?”

“Absolutely.” Lance clenches his fist, leaning forward.

[ so.

what the actual fuck. there's lance, keith, pidge...and two people she doesn't know. the other paladins, she presumes. ah--allura and hunk. she's heard a little bit about them.

but more importantly, ann isn't here to play games, she's here to get her friends out of the dreamwidth. though it seems like it's necessary for them to play the game in order to be rescued? well...at least ann's in the audience. surrounded by...aliens. well then.

she'll look for anyone else who's in the audience with her and wave them over if they're far away.

as for keith...who has a pacifier and has his hair tied up....ann is kind of speechless for a second. she's trying so hard not to laugh. instead, she'll shout words of encouragement: ]

You got this, Keith! Go get 'em!

[ Futaba is clinging to Ann as they enter the dream, and she's still clinging to Ann's as they turn up in. Well. Well. ]

What...

[ But hey, here's Bob and Norlox to helpfully explain. You know. As one does. And it just keeps getting weirder from there. Like. What the fuck. What the fuck. She tries to catch Ann's eye to share a what the fuck-esque expression and then. Well. And then.

Futaba can't help it, she bursts out laughing. And lets go of Ann long enough to pull out her iMog slate. ]

[Keith looks up from the screen. He could have sworn he heard his name, and a familiar voice laughing. He tries to scan the crowd, but the bright lights make it impossible. Especially as Bob speaks again:] Let’s put blazzle hoochas on the board. Aaaaand, go!

[He has no choice. He starts drawing as, for the audience, a feminine voice says: The first answer is… Arusian.

He keeps drawing, regardless of how wrong the answers the others give are. Yet as he draws, the memory shifts.

The entry hall of the Castle of Lions is full to the brim with the Arusians. Everyone else is still celebrating as the Paladins all meet in a side hallway. Pidge has her back pack slung over her shoulder.

"I have a pod all ready to go," she says. Keith glares and gets close to invading her personal space. "You can't leave."
"You can't tell me what to do!"
"If you leave, we can't form Voltron. And that means we can't defend the universe against Zarkon. - A flash of him looking down at a tombstone, the dirt before it recently disturbed; he's so much smaller, probably a little shorter than Pidge is. - "You're not the only one-" Another image of him sitting on a cot, unwrapping a long bandage over the hilt and embedded gem of a luxite knife. "-with a family. All these Arusians have families. Everyone in the universe has families."

It fades back to the show as he keeps drawing the very quick sketch of the Arusian, his brow furrowing and his jaw sets. Why did he immediately think of that?]

It's a rock! Balmera!
Olkari cube!

[Hunk and Pidge call out their answers, as Lance stands between them with his fists clenched.]

It's a chicken!

[Gaaaaaasp.]

[How...what the hell? He shifts and slams his fist against the trapdoor over his head. He's back to one arm. Off balance, he hits the side of the passage and swears quietly to himself.

The monitors arrayed around him tell a really weird story. He...has no idea how to process this.]

What...there's no way this is a memory. It can't be. Can it?

Edited 2018-11-11 02:58 (UTC)

[The memory continues unabated as Pidge makes a comment about seeing chickens in outer space. After a little back and forth, Allura chimes in with "It's an Arusian!"]

Correct! [Bob chimes in, before the same female voice announces the next answer for the audience. The next answer is... Blade of Marmora.

"Where did it come from? I have to know."

Keith doesn't waste any time. He starts to draw what looks like a sword-

"Just give them the knife and let's get out of here."
"I can't give it to them, Shiro."
"What is it with you and that thing?" he demands.
"It's the only connection I have to my past. It's my chance to learn who I really am."
"You know exactly who you are, a Paladin of Voltron. We're all the family you need."
It hurts. "Shiro, you're like a brother to me... but I have to do this."
"No, you don't. So, just give them the knife."
"I can't do that."
"Just give up the knife, Keith! You're only thinking about yourself, as usual!"
Keith goes silent for a moment, and looks away. "I've made my choice."
"Then you've chosen to be alone." The hologram of Shiro turns and starts to walk away as Keith looks at the knife in his hand. For the first time since he started the trial in two days, he starts to hesitate. "Shiro! Wait!"
Keith runs after him, and as he does, a blinding white light fills his field of vision. It fades to the shack he called home for a year since he'd been kicked from the Garrison. The entire building shakes with the percussion of a loud booming noise outside and he turns toward the door, yet as his hand starts to reach out, he hears a voice he hasn't in over ten years call his name. "Keith..." He gasps, turns back around, and on the other side of the room is... "Dad?"
"You're home, son." The next sound that shakes the shack sounds like heavy artillery fire. "What is that?"
"Don't worry about that," his father replies. "We'll be fine as long as we stay in here. Don't you want to catch up?"
Keith looks from the window to his father. "Of course I do."
"Son, so many years have passed. I have so much to tell you." The loud rumbling persists, and Keith looks back to the window. "What is that?"
He walks to the window to pull back the sheet blocking out the direct light. "Everything's fine," his dad says, but the view outside shows otherwise. A Galran battle cruiser is attacking Platt City. He can hear the screams of the citizens in the distance. They're completely defenseless. Earth has no way to compete with Galra technology. On a cliff outside, he can see the Red Lion gazing toward the city. He needs to get out there. "Dad, I-I'm sorry. I gotta go. There's people that need me out there."
"Don't you want to know about where you came from?" His father asks, holding out the knife in both hands. "Your mother gave it to me."
"Mom?" The rumbling and screams continue, and for a moment, the memory fades to another memory of another dawn. One he's both a part of in the baby crib being kissed goodbye, and witnessing as a third party. His mother is handing his father the knife, as his father's shade said. "This is for Keith. He may need it someday."

When he's come back to, it's not just the blade he's drawn, but his mother, Krolia.

The drawing stylus shatters in his hand.]

“And now, back to Garfle Warfle Snick!” the announcer’s voice is entirely too cheerful.

“Welcome back, everybody! The Paladins of Voltron are trying to win their way off the show, but they just lost one of their team to the Warflater! How’s it going over there, Lance?” Bob questions, glancing over at Lance, suspended in the tank of green liquid.

“Actually, this feels great! The goo is nice and warm, and it feels like it’s exfoliating me.” And he does appear to be having a great time over there. It’s a little weird, actually.

“Well, eventually it’ll eat through your skin!” comes Bob’s voice, eliciting a cheer from the audience. “But let’s see if one of your friends can help you out.”

Bob’s chair floats over to where the others are still trapped and he leans in close to address Allura. “Well, hello princess!”

“What are we doing here, Bob?” she questions. “We’re playing the game!” is Bob’s reply. The audience applauds. “Please let us go. The universe needs Voltron.” It’s a valiant attempt, but Bob is quick with a comeback. “Well, then the Paladins of Voltron are just going to have to get serious about winning this game. Now, which one of you do you want to play to free Lance, huh? Who’s the brainiest of the team?” In the time it takes him to finish speaking, he’s moved to hover in front of the tank, and now he turns to watch Lance’s teammates expectantly.

Allura, Hunk and Keith all gesture toward the Green Paladin, who just raises her hand with an odd expression. “Alright little fella, come on out here!” With that, Pidge floats out from around the podium to hover near Bob’s chair. “Norlox, tell us what the next warfler is!”

“It’s… Bank Channel!” Cut to a shot of what is clearly a colorful mini golf setup with Pidge and Bob waiting off to the side. “Hey! It’s miniature golf!” Pidge actually sounds excited, because this is something familiar. Something she’s not going to have to think so hard about. “Miniature what?” Bob’s confused voice rings out.

“This game, it’s- never mind.” Explaining is obviously going to do no good. “Alright! Lemme show you how to play here.” Bob’s chair tilts again, and Pidge just blinks at him. “All you have to do is hit the sphere into the bank channel…” Bob hits the ball, which ricochets several times off the wave-shaped obstacles, before finally sinking into the hole.

“Easy! Think you can do that?” He hands the ~~golf~~ club over to Pidge.

“I think I can handle it.” Pidge takes the club and immediately changes her stance, sizing up the ball and the course…

Generic music begins to play as Pidge surveys the scene from several different angles, even going so far as to crouch down at one point, and lean far over so she’s nearly prone in another instant. Bob watches all this happen from the comfort of his fancy chair. “Ooo, very serious,” he points out, to the delight of the cheering audience. “The hole is… over there!” he supplies, earning another laugh track. Pidge considers for a few moments more, before finally standing again and making her swing...

It hadn't been easy for the others to bring them to awareness. Whether it be where they wound up in the shared memory, or the fact that when one awoke, they'd be forced back in until the others woke up, too. The reason why became obvious after Pidge wakes: the three of them drifted within the same nebula, arms linked together at the elbow...

[Keith in particular does... not look well, even as they boarded the airship. While he's still in the outfit he disappeared in, his body shows signs of the last thing he remembers. He looks pale and like he probably barely survived whatever attack left him in this state. It irritates him how unsteady he is on his feet, yet he still makes his way to the makeshift infirmary. Slowly.]

[ Keith why are you like this. She doesn't bother ducking under his arm or anything to try to support him. She knows she's probably not best at that and besides, Shiro would probably prefer to do it anyway.

Instead she quickly pulls out the iMog slate and flips over to jobs, swapping out her staple for Astrologian. Healbot time. ]

Y'know you could just stop in the lounge like we did last time.

“Being easy to distract doesn’t make him dumb.” Shiro counters from his podium across from the Voltron team. He leans his only arm on it and sighs. Lance might realize he is being defended by a friend or not. He can only hope for the former. He turns to face him and calls out. “Lance. You can do this! ...and try to remember what happened the last time you did it.”

He has done all he can short of outright calling out that Lance is caught in a memory. He edges away from Haggar with a twitch. Why. Why is he stuck in swinging distance of her? This is. He sighs again. “Hurry up, please. This is not pleasant.”

Shiro cautionly observes this from his spot. She’s going to a lot of effort for this one shot. The math for it should be easy for her. He takes a second to look around and a suspicion rears up in the back of his head. He would love to step around the podium but he’s stuck there. “Pidge.” He says, trying to figure out what to say. “Whatever you’re going to do. You’ve already done it. Trust your instincts.”

He subsided and glances across at the Voltron team. He misses Hunk and Allura. He wants his friends to be a whole group. Safe. Protected. Or capable of protecting others and able to return to where they would find rest for a time. “...you’re doing fine.” Are they? Are they really?

He has never made a habit of lying to them. Even when his clone spoke he didn’t really lie. He knew as little as they did.

[He steps up to his side and gently slings Keith's arm over his shoulders. He wraps an arm around him as pale light rolls down from his arm. He can't cure much but even a little is better than nothing.

Keith looks so pale. Between that and the vast shape of a ship that had loomed in the distance just beyond their swirling nexus of memories...he has a feeling a lot has happened. Will happen in his future.

The darkness of that time looms in his mind's eye. He keeps it locked up tight as he leads Keith to the infirmary.] Lean on me as much as you want to.

I've got you.

[Because it's Keith. Though in all honesty, he's not really thinking straight. His head aches. His entire being does, but both injuries and about a year and a half's worth of new memories swirl in his head to add even more to the dull throbbing.

He stops when he hears Futaba's voice and leans against the wall. She'd come back out here for them, despite what happened the last time.]

Probably. [Except he needed to stop anyway.]

Good thing you've got a master Astrologian on your side.

[ She's already setting to work sending a pretty steady stream of healing energy into him. Keeping an eye out for the others too. It looks like they all needed it. Man, what had happened to put them all in this bad a shape? Like... she knew they were in a war but... ]

Just... slow down okay? You look like you're gonna fall over.

[The aches dull slightly; Keith holds on to him like a rock in the middle of a stormy sea.]

Back to the rescue again, huh. [The tease doesn't carry any bite; there's only warmth behind the exhaustion. It nags in the back of his mind that there's some missing context in those words, but he'll return to it later. There's a lot to catch up on, but he'll say this much as they make their way to the infirmary:]

Four and a half years for our reality. One and a half for us.

[He seems to mull on that for a moment as the magic seeps into him. Breathing comes easier and the throbbing in his skull becomes an ache instead.]

Do we? Could have sworn we had another menace.

[Well, at least the dry humor's back. He glances back to see if he can spot Lance or Pidge.]

Was still in the only remaining Garrison hospital before I woke up back there. No idea about the others.

A week here. [It's not a long hallway. It feels too long when Keith's in this state. He's home but he's in such a condition all he wants to do is scoop him up and carry him to his infirmary bed.]

...and of course, you keep saving me. I thought I'd reverse that for a change. [He finally gives in to the urge and reaches to lift Keith up and carry him the rest of the way. No one is around to see.]

...I missed you. I'm glad you're back.

[A week. That parses from what he recalls from the haze of memories, yet it still hits him like the news of the three weeks they'd spent trying to restore power to the Lions and wait for Shiro to recover from, well, death... had been three decaphoebs. He keeps it locked up within him for now. He may be injured, but he is their leader.

Hazy memories of lying on the floor of Black's cockpit and hearing Shiro's voice before light pressure rested on his chest comes back to him as Shiro lifts him off the ground. He doesn't let go.]

You saved me first. [And kept doing it. His own paladin, regardless of if he flies a lion anymore or not. He has a bigger ship, now.] Glad to be back. Could have waited a couple weeks back home, though.

[Just so he could probably be walking on his own two feet to the lounge instead. He leans into his shoulder.]

[ Wow Keith, wow. See what she gets you for Starlight. ]

You say that like they're mutually exclusive.

[ Futaba glances back as well. ]

Well, you all came back linked at the elbows. Wouldn't be surprised if you came back close in other ways too.

[ ... that sounds so much like an innuendo but she means timeline-wise. For once. ]

[At least he knows what he's getting her for Starlight. A screen protector.]

True, but I more meant that we're all menaces here.

[He closes his eyes momentarily before he gently pushes himself from the wall.] Lance looks about as bad as I remember. Pidge looks better.

... Thanks, Futaba.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 3

The craziest show in the galaxy, yup.

Pre-Nebula mingle

Round One, Draw!

no subject

Round Two!

brackets awww ye

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Round Three!

Post-Retrieval Mingle

no subject

Same hat convo probably eventually

no subject

no subject

no subject

Wheeeeee

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject