whatsacactus | (no subject)

Are you trying to say it is a speeder. That - [He looks closer at it now that Shiro's there.] - is in definite need of repairs?

Mmhmm. Think you could give it a look?

[He sounds. Pretty fucking smug, actually. It'll be nice to have something else to work on.]

Yeah, I think I could find the time to give it a once over.

[He's already circling it and taking stock.]

Bet it could do really well in the canyon when the weather lets up.

[He just rolls his eyes.]

Always thinking about how to go faster, huh?

Can you blame me?

[He finally stops when he's standing next to Shiro, patting a hand to his shoulder.]

This is really awesome. And not what I'd expect to find here.

Well, Black can teleport. Maybe Zarkon liked to go fast too.

[Not as fast as Red unless she's got her wings, but he's... not entirely sure Keith's ever used them.]

[If Red had wings, that's news to him. He gives the shoulder a little squeeze before stepping away, back toward the house.]

I found a basement, I think? Didn't go inside though. Not sure what's on the other side of the door.

[Something about the way Keith says it piques his interest. The bike's not going anywhere, and it's not like they can't leave it out in the storm, so he follows after him.]

Sure. Let's have a look. Maybe we can find a communications center, some way to reach the others.

[Oh he hadn't expected that to happen now. But he nods, changing his direction to lead the way.

It's eerily similar to human earth basements, the doors set into the ground with a sturdy frame. The difference is the lock on it - a customary hand scanner. Keith kneels down and places his hand to it, watching it scan then blink and hears the tell-tale clunk of a lock opening.

The doors slide open sideways, folding into themselves. Lights blink on, lighting the way down a set of steps.]

Here goes. [And he leads the way down.]

[The first step he takes down into the basement he already knows something is wrong. It's the smell. Ten thousand years old, one would expect it to have dissipated, but maybe the door was hermetically sealed. Maybe what's down here was preserved. Maybe dark, dimly lit places just reach into some primal part of his brain and set off every alarm bell he has, but there is a part of him that vehemently does not want to continue on down.

Shiro reaches out and grabs Keith by the back of his shirt, dangerously close to just scruffing him like a cat.]

Wait. Keith.

[Shiro gets close to scruffing him by the neck but he stops, looking back at him. Something about the look on his face is uneasy for Keith, his brows knotting together. He steps back up to be level with him.]

What's up?

[Shiro exhales. His pulse is quickened, and there are pinpricks of sweat at his temples. He stands his ground, but it's an obvious effort and he shifts his jaw to grit his teeth before he answers,]

If we're going down there, I think we should be armed. Do you have the bayard?

It's with my armor upstairs. Come on.

[That's all he needs to know they aren't coming down here. He carefully reaches for Shiro's elbow to turn him back around, get him going back up to the surface. Keith isn't about to stand there and let Shiro have a bad time here.]

I can lock it back when we get out.

[He shakes his head.]

We'll get the bayard. No point locking it if we'll be right back.

[Keith never really had to see the side of Shiro that drove him headlong into what few fears he ever had. He's never let himself rest easy when there's something to overcome, and although he understands and appreciates the sentiment he already knows he'll be going into the basement one way or another.

He does, however, gesture Keith to precede him on the way out.]

[He desperately wants Shiro to go out first. Partly to get him out, partly in case there's something lurking and comes behind them he can take the brunt. The only problem with that is Shiro is literally bigger than him (physically is... questionable. He'd held back in that fight, he hadn't wanted to hurt Shiro. That was no way to judge their strength together).

He's clearly unhappy but goes in front of him, stopping at the entrance to reach and make sure Shiro does actually come out.]

All right, but-- if you decide you don't want to go down, we won't.

I'm fine.

[He says that perhaps a bit more forcefully than he might have were he completely unrattled. It's a sign of just how much that hit him, and he reaches up to rub at his temple, drag his hand through his hair.]

Sorry. Jumping at ghosts.

It's all right. [He forces his voice steady, understanding. He gets it, he does. But he isn't sure Shiro would want that right now when he's trying to project strength.]

We've got time to look into it. [He doesn't want to belittle Shiro's determination, but he wants to at least give the option of not going down.]

[He's not going to be able to sleep knowing there's a druid lab beneath the house he hasn't checked over, so he just shakes his head mutely and doesn't bother with a reply.

They go back upstairs, they both grab their armour. Keith has his blade, and the black bayard comes to him. He hasn't spent enough time with it to feel natural in his hand, but touching it is reassuring. It's like having a little piece of Black with him, and her strength is always at the back of his mind.

Then it's back down into the basement. Keith takes point, which-- Shiro can see the logic in. He's missing an arm. Even with the bayard, he's not in the best combat shape. Keith is injured, but intact.

Track lights turn on as they head downwards. The smell, the stench of chemical quintessence gets stronger the farther they go, and by the time they're on flat ground Shiro is barely breathing. It's less like his time in captivity and more like--

(It's the clone's memories. That's where the terror is coming from. He was barely a person, then, when he was around this sort of thing--)

It's everything the upper part of the house isn't. Everything he'd have expected of the Galra.

(Keith's Galra. Some of them are good. But Shiro encountered the ones that weren't, first, and they left their marks on him.)

There are evidence of experimentation, things painted on the walls. It's a descent, he realizes. He's looking at a deteriorating mind. Allura confessed to (the clone) her theory that Honerva became Haggar, and seeing this--

Shiro's inclined to believe it.

Some of the lights aren't functioning properly. They're weak and flickering, and Shiro is beyond being on edge. His grip on the bayard is slick with sweat, and he can hear his heartbeat echoing in his ears so loudly he's amazed Keith hasn't commented on it yet. But it isn't until he sees the chamber in the middle of the room that he swears it stops altogether.

Universes away. Lifetimes ago. Is this going to follow him everywhere for the rest of his life?

(He's half expecting to see his own face in it. He wipes the dust and grime away from the exterior of the glass, just to see for himself, just to prove--)

-- Something stirs violently inside, and the glass shatters under his hand.]

Keith, get back!

[The bayard is already a sword in his hand, violet-black energy coalescing into a sharp point but just as he does, the lights go out.]

[He's hyperaware of Shiro's state as they make their way down. Listening to his breathing, his steps, making sure nothing's amiss. (But even if he noted it, could he relaly tell Shiro to leave? He's as stubborn as Keith sometimes.)

The clinical stench hits him in stages the further they go. It's never a smell he's enjoyed, and the overlay of quintessence on top makes it worse. He wishes it didn't smell so strongly; how it's stayed so strong after this long is a mystery unto itself. The lights are more what he'd expected from somewhere this old. The flickering makes it hard to make out the writing, but it's clear someone spent more time down here than they needed. There's nothing here he understands except one thing: they probably shouldn't be here at all.

There are tables with tubes, beakers. Books half written in, sealed jars. There's so much here that someone else with a lot more experience could figure out.

It's when he hears something stirring that he remembers to keep an eye on Shiro. The lights go out as glass shatters and he's just barely able to make out something coming by the light of his blade coming forth.]

Shiro!

[He sees teeth close and swings, feeling his blade sink into something before it's gone, noise somewhere to the left of him.]

[No light.

They did this a few times in the Arena. Blinded him to fight an opponent. The druids could block the optic nerves without permanent damage. They said it made it more sporting, but the truth is now when Shiro's fighting in the dark he instantly reaches for other senses to stay alive. Feels odd to have something to thank them for.

You can tell where things are by an absence of air in a space. It's a tricky skill to cultivate, but he got good at it.]

Here.

[He keeps his voice low, just to tell Keith where he is. The last thing they need is to stab each other in the dark. At the dull meaty thud of Keith's blade hitting the creature, it retreats. Somewhere into a corner.]

Stay on my right.

[They've sparred together so much that they each know how the other moves. Shiro isn't worried. Whatever this thing is, it's ancient and they can kill it. It's just a matter of doing it.

The creature lunges, Shiro tracks it by the scrape of its claws along the floor and the way the air displaces in front of him.

He sidesteps. Expecting his right leg to bear his weight, except-- it doesn't. He crumples down onto his knee, finding himself in the position of needing to jam the tip of the bayard against the floor to keep from going down, and the creature sideswipes at him with one unnaturally elongated arm. He gets his shield up just in time, but it still punts him into the wall.

Whatever he hits has the lights flickering again, but there's no time to think about it. He has to keep this thing's attention, to give Keith an opening to attack it.]

Over here, asshole!

[His eyes are trying to adjust, but the flickering isn't making it any easier. Hearing Shiro's voice followed by the slam to his left is stressing him out, trying to make sure he doesn't hit Shiro and keep himself shielded.

This is bad.

He's still trying to stay on the right, but he can tell by the sounds Shiro got farther away than before the slam. He must've gotten hit into something. Shit shit. There's a low hum of a shield being pulled up, the faintest light and it's enough for Keith to make out the dark shape of the creature. With a growl, he runs and leaps onto it, sinking his blade into whatever flesh he finds.

The creature rears back with a cry, trying to scrape Keith off. Trying to stay on, Keith feels his muscles screaming more than earlier. He feels them moving, lumbering backwards before he's smacked into the wall, the creature trying to crush him. He cries out, no time to feel how his teeth change or his vision sharpening just a touch.]

[There's a point in a fight where your adrenaline slows everything down. Where you're subsumed by some absolute zen that can't help but keep you alive.

It used to come easy. But at the sound of Keith in pain--

(Everything's too raw. Too recent. I know you're in there. Keith crying out. The clone telling him that neither of them are leaving. That they'll die there. Trying so hard to make it happen.)

His own little hurts fall away, the anxiety of being in a room like this, a place that smells like this, with a table and straps in one corner and all kinds of instruments on the walls, he stops caring about it. He just moves.

The creature has Keith pinned to the wall, and Shiro - estimating where Keith is, his size - cleaves at its front leg. The blade bites deep, and it stumbles forwards, swinging at him.]

[It falls forward, and Keith grabs his blade out and lands with a roll. it doesn't make sense that he can see it more clearly in this almost no-light. But he can see its mouth, its hand swinging at Shiro.

The second it raises that arm, Keith lunges forward, swinging the blade to cut it off. It's not as perfect as the bayard, but it's still enough to cut through. The smell of flesh, of sweat, of this thing's blood gets to him, the thought of protecting Shiro falling away and what's left is kill it.

Keith gets his footing, watching the dark shape and runs, slides on his knees to go for the other leg.]

[Keith lunges at it with no regard for his personal safety. He's a good fighter, always has been, but he throws defense out the window as soon as he's riled up.

This thing has more than the normal amount of arms. Keith cuts one off, and Shiro can hear him go in for another strike and there's-- something wrong. He hears a wet, sick sound and the creature unfolds arms from its back, he can see it in the weak light of his bayard, and Keith is about to run right into one of them.

Shiro drops the bayard. Grabs for Keith instead, using his greater weight to pin him down to the ground just beneath the apex of the creature's swing.

For a moment, he just... looks at Keith. The teeth. The eyes. The cast to the skin might be from the quality of the light, but--

He grits his teeth, rolls off of him. The bayard's lost in the scuffle, he has no idea where it's gone.]

Watch the extra arms!

[Something's pinning him, keeping him from attacking and he struggles against the weight but --

Shiro's voice.

Keith blinks back to himself, eyes losing the yellow sheen to them as he watches the arm swing over them. Extra arms, of course there would be. If he took out the leg, it could still likely support itself.]

Any ideas?!