nysalogs | We were the victims of ourselves

[It’s a lot to process. Far from the first time that she’s woken up from stasis to turmoil, but it doesn’t make it any easier. She’d talked to Axel not long ago about his last Natha-induced nap, but nothing could prepare her for the deluge of memories. Not only that, but there was quintessent energy under her skin that wasn’t there before, buzzing like anxiety along with her tumultuous thoughts.

But there’s little time to brood. The Natha’s timing, as always, is less than ideal, although the trek across the snow and ice, then is a welcome distraction. She and Keith have a lot of ground to make up to catch up with the others, and the wilderness is unforgiving, so the conversation between them is kept to a minimum. Just a word here and there, to point out landmarks, discuss directions, but otherwise the air between them is filled with long stretches of silence.

It continues until the sun dips below the horizon, plunging the visibility to near-zero, and the temperatures beyond the comfort levels of their suits, forcing them into a nearby igloo, left behind by one of the refugees who had passed through earlier. The first blast of cold air when Allura releases the vacuum on her helmet makes her regret taking it off in the first place, but sleeping in full armor is impossible, and they would need all the strength they could get for the next day of travel ahead.

Silence settles over them as Allura finishes setting the pieces of her armor neatly to the side, feeling the chill of the evening permeating her jumpsuit, biting at the exposed skin on her fingers and her face. She rubs her hands together, and under her skin is the dull hum of quintessence, reminding her of Oriande and the quintessence field. From there, her mind wanders, to the Alteans, to Shiro, to the Sincline ships and...

Lost in her thoughts, it takes a dobash or two before she realizes that she's been staring at the wall, and she shakes herself out of it. Self-consiously rearranges her armor one last time, as if that's what she was thinking about. She can feel Keith watching her, but she doesn't know if it's real or imagined, and she brushes it off, finally breaking the uncomfortable silence,]

It's colder than I imagined.

Edited 2018-07-20 23:28 (UTC)

[For having spent most of his life as a solo artist, Keith's glad to be traveling with Allura, as it were. Memories regained may've made the transition slightly easier -- there is a certain calmness about him as they traverse what seems to be an unending sheet of white. Certain things indicate they're going the right way, markets, footprints, discarded material/similar trash -- the latter being most reassuring, somehow.

They can't walk for an eternity, however, and an igloo serves them well enough. It's a good cover against the harsh wind. His visor lifts from is face initially as he settles across from the Altean.]

Have you seen snow before?

[Of all their smalltalk, they hadn't tackled that issue. Keith hasn't any room to brag, considering: his cozy desert shack, but he does have some experience with a snowy planet.

His helmet comes off entirely, finally. Some sweat beads his forehead and immediately chills with the air. He'll ignore it -- classic mind over matter technique. The accessory finds a place at his side.]

We could try to build a fire, but our house might not hold up. [Moreover, finding dry timber might expel more energy than it'd be worth, especially if it fails to light.] But it'll only get worse overnight.

[Assuming there IS an overnight.]

[Allura nods, attention turning back to Keith, and on the situation at hand as she turns to fully face him,]

Briefly, when I first arrived on El Nysa. And once in the simulation chamber.

[Both barely counted compared to what they saw today. Even the Natha's simulation to prepare her for this mission failed to fully emulate what it would be like to be trapped out here for hours on end.

And for the cold. She watches him while she considers their options. It's surprising, even without a fire, visibility isn't terrible, as the snow does a good job of diffusing the moonlight until everything is bathed in dull greys and blues.]

I don't think a fire is a good idea. [From her experience building igloos with Richie, they aren't the most sturdy structures, especially in the hands of amateurs.] There's the blankets in our survival packs.

[They're better than nothing, at least. Her breath comes out in white vapors and she's startled when she realizes that its the moisture in her breath freezing mid-air. Suddenly the chill in her fingertips feels a lot more serious than before, and she curls her hands into fists on her lap.]

[Right; his brain's something like a Rubik's Cube at times, memories from home and Nysa constantly intermingling; her arrival was something of a blur -- he'd been caught up in something much more weighty than the weather back then. Indeed, that and some simulation isn't quite the same as this, but he won't say as much. What he will do, is slide his helmet closer to the entrance of their igloo, begin mounting his armor around it. Blocking the way in/out should be beneficial for a few reasons, complicated only if one of them decides they have to pee in the middle of their rest.]

Those -- [Won't...help much, but they are definitely better than nothing.] yeah. We have blankets.

[But Keith won't sleep; not for long. He'd like not to freeze to death in the midst of unconsciousness on such a weird planet. He'll watch Allura, make sure she's fine...it's something he'd decided a bit ago.

Once he's finished removing his armor and creating a barrier with it, he'll turn to that pack of his, seek out that blanket specifically and spread it out over their wintry floor as a buffer.]

[It's hard, she knows now, the disparity between her memories. Logically she understands that she never physically returned home, and the memories were just ones that had been left behind before, but now it brings to mind what else got left behind. And the physical changes, her eyes drift to Keith. He looked older, consistent with her new memories, but now there's a lapse as she tries to remember if it's been this way ever since she arrived on planet.

She realizes she's distracted again, and belatedly moves to help Keith in stacking the armor, adding hers to his. The disorientation will fade with time, as the memories fade, she's sure.

She hopes.

Until then, focusing on the mission, and the tasks at hand helps her stay grounded. Keith was surely dealing with his own experience in stasis, and she owed it to him to be just as focused, they needed both of their heads to get through this. He lays the blanket out on the ground, and she shoots him a confused look,]

If you do that, there won't be anything to cover up with.

[Though, thinking about it, she's not sure if it's any worse than having the blanket on top. They'd freeze either way.]

Just lie down.

[--Without sounding bossy or impatient, which should be strange in an of itself. A slight gesture follows the advice; they have a couple of options. They could burrito themselves. The second is...a little more questionable, but effective all the same. While that's squaring away, he'll focus on their wall of armor, make sure it's all packed in well enough, use the snow to fill some tiny gaps...likely just trying to keep his hands busy. Moving around helped, wearing just his fullbody flightsuit doesn't provide much protection against the air. It's like scuba gear.]

...And sleep if you can. We covered a lot of ground today.

[He can't say for certain how much is left, but trudging through the snow makes it more strenuous. Like running through sand. NOT as bad as treading ocean current, however.]

[~~That's very romantic.~~

Her mouth hardens and she frowns, but relents enough to sit on the edge of the blanket while she fishes in her pack for the second blanket. Without discussing it, the second option that Keith had been thinking on makes itself apparent to Allura as well, but unlike Keith, she's already accepted it as the most logical solution. When she spreads the second blanket out, she does so directly over the first one, making sure to favor one side of the makeshift double bed.

But she doesn't lie down, instead sits with the top blanket pulled up to her lap, watching as he packs the snow into their makeshift door.]

What are you planning to do?

[The way he's talking sounds kind of like he's not intending on sleeping any time soon.]

[He'll turn to her finally, even scoot over so he can kneel on the blanket rather than encourage frostbite of the shins, oy.]

Camp here.

[There's the most obvious response. It's spoken with a sigh -- a cloud of visible mist marks that exhale. There's an awkward...three-four seconds wherein he just kind of stares at her, expecting her to just plop over and rest at that. He's addressed her question, after all, given her some proper advice even before then... (what was it, lie down?)]

We're camping here and heading out first chance we get. Why?

[That doesn't really address her concern about sleeping, but he's settled down from busywork, and unless he plans on sitting in the darkness and staring at her, there's not much else to do than sleep, so she lets it drop and she shakes her head,]

Never mind.

[Awkward. They sit in silence for a few more ticks before she gestures to the blankets, the arrangement of them clearly set out like a bed for two, her voice taking on the tired, but familiar diplomatic tilt that happens when she's discussing plans.]

This seemed like the most logical arrangement. Once we're both settled, the blankets should insulate the heat our bodies produce.

[The description is clinical in formality. Survival is key, after all.]

[That isn't a satisfied Nevermind, some part of his brain knows this but he's more than content to push forward with...resting. It isn't at all odd for him to rest while dressed head to toe (even with his boots on which is fucking nasty), so that's one less cumbersome thing about the evening. He'll scoot closer, lie on his side a la little mermaid at the furthest end to start with. Not the most logical place, considering, but they're easing into this survival thing okay.]

Yeah. [A beat.] If it gets too uncomfortable, we'll have to figure something else out. Maybe figure out how to start a fire.

[Even if that's a Bad Idea, they have so few options.]

[Compared to her nightgown and large bed that she was used to this is… several steps down. The jumpsuit is comfortable enough but it, combined with the cold and the snow, makes it feel less like she’s settling in for a restful night’s sleep and more just… laying down and waiting for the sun to rise (though the less she thinks of this as a proper bed, the less she has to think about the long line of etiquette teaches she’s disappointing right now).

Keith lays down, and Allura spares half a dobash more to undo her hair, setting the pins in a safe spot to the side before she settles in on her side, facing the wall at the opposite end of the blanket. She props her head up on an arm, trying to find a comfortable position, but even though she can feel exhaustion over every inch of her body, she is no closer to sleep than when they’d been out in the snow. Pulling the blanket up to her chin, she stares out into the darkness of the igloo around them, listening to the howling of the wind outside, as her own thoughts bubble up to fill the silence.]

Keith? [She finally breaks the silence, not turning around to look at him,] What’s the last thing you remember? From back home?

[They never really talked about it, since coming out of stasis. Got too caught up in catching up with the rest of the refugees to really have a chance.]

[It hardly occurs to him that having her sleep like this is...kinda disrespectful?! In some weird way, but he hasn't anything better to offer. Even if he had the option to send her off on gryphonback, she probably wouldn't go. Of course, if they had a gryphon around they could probably both ride it...

She preps, and Keith's focused on the space between them. Winds tend to pick up at night in general, and he can't decide whether he's just heard a breeze, a wolf-type or something feigned by his brain. He's considering breaking past the barrier of their armor with his knife (it's really gonna be like this all night) until Allura breaks the quasi-silence.]

Um, [While scooting slightly closer rather than pulling away to check on the wilderness.] Shiro. [And no one was surprised.] We lost everything [nearly], but we were heading back to Earth.

[Similarly, Keith hasn't had a lot of time to reflect on his latest memory implants. Bizarre as it is, they've served him well when, in the past, measured against Lance's memories. He's propped up on an elbow, lying with approximately an inch between them -- for Jesus.]

Do you believe the Natha?

[Regarding Earth-- err, homeworld and such; he's not sure what they may've told Allura, considering...hence the vagueness.]

[The sleeping situation doesn't bother her, other than the physical discomfort. It was simply a marker at how different her life turned out from the one she'd expected as a child. Like the frequency her title is bypassed by strangers, or any number of social norms expected of Altean royalty, she was too pragmatic to mourn an old, impossible way of life, yet too sentimental to forget all of the small ways her culture was eroded.

Keith acknowledges their shared memories and Allura tenses, not sure how to feel about that. Relief that she wasn't alone in her memories? Sorrow over the confirmed loss of her castle ship? Shame at how her actions lead to that loss?

But his next question distracts her from her thoughts, and she rolls onto her back so she can look at him instead of the wall, her shoulder bumping up against his elbow as that inch of space is closed.]

We have all seen the might of the storm. [And Allura knew all to well how something as seemingly permanent as your home planet could disappear in an instant. Yet,] But I also thought all Alteans to be dead. And now—

[Her voice becomes tight, speaking about it eliciting sudden, strong emotions she hadn't expected. She swallows, eyes drifting to the ceiling,] I suppose I don't know what to believe, anymore.

[He's not bothered by the closeness, weirdly enough. This is in part, because of the subject at hand. While difficult and cumbersome to put into words, it's more important than how close their coordinates have become.

Kinda a plus anyway, considering the...weather...something he'll appreciate in a moment.

But, this has been his signature tin foil hat controversy; the amount of times he's brought up the sketchiness of the Natha until now--

Okay, he's only done it three times or so with people he actually trusts. He's not a fan, the likelihood of that changing is rather low. Having Allura sorta on the side of uncertainty is good, but not exactly worth celebrating.

On the flip side: Keith is that image that says some shit like Me Comforting My Friends and it's someone brushing someone with a broom from five feet away; the princess is visibly...not UPSET, but she's certainly not happy to discuss anxiety and the extinction of her kind.

It's probably a bad time to bring up his mom, even as an example of anything can happen. There's a long moment of him gawking, his line of vision slips to a corner of their blanket.]

We'll figure it out.

[That's why he'd taken on such shady jobs in Wyver; to get down to it all -- none of it wrought much, but what else can he do? Wallow and mourn?]

Not tonight, but eventually...

[The whole Altean thing is a tricky topic. For so long, she would have given anything to find her people, any hint that they survived Zarkon's genocidal rule. Now, having gotten exactly what she wanted, the emotions that followed were... conflicted. She was elated, yet the circumstances surrounding it, what had been allowed to happen to her people in her absence, left her sick to her stomach. Having been so thoroughly manipulated by someone she thought she could trust...

Suddenly,] I do not think you are wrong to doubt them. [Of that, she speaks with unwavering certainty. The storm aside, everything that lead them to this moment (sleeping in a terrible snow hut, on the way to some city they barely knew existed,), pointed to the fact that the orbiters were not always the most upfront about their motivations. She didn't want to think about it, but if they were being used or lied to, Allura certainly fell comfortably into doing their bidding—joining the coalition, getting caught up in the geopolitics of Wyver and Olympia.

Her eyes slide to Keith's face once again, expression serious,] You are— [She pauses, searching for words. Finding the Alteans, connecting with the Black Lion, reuniting the group with the true Shiro—Keith may be a little bit of a black sheep, but his instincts served them well. At this point she may trust them better than her own.] If anyone can find out the truth, I believe it's you.

[It's possible she's buttering his biscuit -- overcrediting. He may have made amends to his former self...he's grown up enough to do so, but even then...

He's certainly determined to find the truth, at any rate. Be it blue lions, the mothman or the orbiters. Unearthing such things here has proven difficult, however. A year in and he's hardly made any headway. From any perspective, living one year on a brand new planet and expecting to know every answer is a trifling undertaking. For Keith, it's been frustrating. Time wasted. Half the time he was focused on the wrong thing, the rest...

He's been coasting, striking dead ends. Even so, he'll offer a halfhearted, distant smile.]

Thanks. [...] But I'm gonna need some help.

[Y'know, based on facts. Forgive him for sounding stilted....]

[He has grown up a lot. Not just in the inexplicable way he managed to age two years while traveling with Krolia, but even before that, he was a much different person from the one she confronted on the Castle-ship, demanding his allegiance to the team. He refused, left to be a pawn and returned as a leader. She was proud of him. She should tell him that.

Instead she just offers a nod and, for the first time since she's come out of stasis, her smile seems to reach her eyes. They don't really have a plan but it feels like a direction,] I am not certain on how effective Voltron will be with just a head and a leg.

[Ah, that joke kind of stings a little and her expression flickers, remembering their friends she has yet to see since she's arrived.] But we will figure it out.

[In other words. She has your back.]