lifeaftr | March Undercurrent: Lost Connections

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March Undercurrent: Lost Connections

MARCH UNDERCURRENT

Who: Everyone!
What: We remember those lost, and connect with one another
When: March 3rd to March 19th
Where: Everywhere!
Warnings: Please mark anything as it comes up!

From Stardust to God

Those months since the Water's introduction to you all have been...tumultuous, haven't they? These two gods have more or less been trying to consistently undermine each other, and you all have been caught in the middle of it - whether or not you wanted to be! Kind of a miserable state of being to be stuck in, right?

All that is going to change.

For the duration of this particular month, both the Storyteller and the Water will be operating under a tentative ceasefire as they commit their efforts to one singular, joint goal:

They wish to remember those who have been lost. Those who have left the archipelago, those who have died, those who have come and gone, those who you lost in your homes...and these gods will be, also, commemorating those who they have lost.

This commemoration will be facilitated with the use of memorials and offerings to those long past.

The Storyteller will provide you with materials to craft paper lanterns that can be illuminated and sent sailing into the ocean waters. They can be decorated with colorful paper, cut designs, and so forth. The Water will guide the currents to allow the lanterns to drift to...wherever it is they need to go. You can send as many lanterns as you like, and as many nights as you like. The skies will always be clear, and the water will always guide them to the horizon, where they eventually fade from view...

Both the Storyteller and the Water will be available for discussion for the duration of this event.

The Highs We Trade for the Lows

This month isn't only about remembering what's been past. To conjure Ai'tuoh back to the archipelago, it will also entail that all of you do some reflecting on what has been lost in your lives, and sharing in that pain together. This may be a somber month for some of you, or it may be an introspective one.

At any point during this event, your character may wake to discover that one or more thin threads of colorful light appears to be emanating from their chest and trailing through the empty air. These threads cannot be removed or influenced in any fashion; attempting to grab at them will simply cause one's hands to phase uselessly through them, as though they are ethereal constructs of some sort.

The purpose of these strands of light might not immediately be apparent, but if you spend enough time observing your fellow islanders, it might get a bit clearer. Each tether connects you to someone else - someone who has a pain similar to your own. Should you follow your tether to whoever it has linked you to, you may find yourself compelled to comfort or relate to the other party. This compulsion can honestly vary, from a gentle nudge to a sudden impulse and anything in between. There may or may not be a subtle pressure on your thoughts that may help you discern what you might have in common with this other person, whoever they might be.

This facet of this event is completely opt-in, naturally, and we encourage you to interpret this however you like. What counts as shared pain? It can be as literal or as figurative as you like. Whether characters underwent the same events in this game or another, or whether there are certain parallels you wish to explore within certain canons or across multiple ones...or if you just want your character to have a nice sit down and talk about their problems for once, the choice is yours. Your character can be connected to as many others as you like - there is no limit to how many characters you can share any related trauma with!

Should you choose to reflect on that which you have endured, and the shared pain of others, what follows is fairly intuitive. The tether binding you together will fade, though hopefully a stronger bond will be forged, and ideally you'll all feel better afterward...but that's not necessarily a given, now, is it?

This is No Place Like Home

Of course, there's a lot going on in the background as well. You're free to use this log as a catch-all for the duration of February's Undercurrent Event, as well as any of the other minor events listed on our Monthly Rundown post. And, of course, you are always free to create your own individual logs and posts as needed.

If you have any questions, please feel free to ask them over on the Questions header on our Monthly Rundown post!

March Timeline

[ ♆ ] March 1st: "The Return of Your Special Lifting Friend" begins and lasts until March 10th
[ ♆ ] March 3rd: "Lost Connections" begins and lasts until March 19th
[ ♆ ] March 12th: "Spring Forth" begins and lasts until March 21st
[ ♆ ] March 20th: Ai'tuoh returns to the archipelago
[ ♆ ] March 22nd: "The Happy Hang Glider Vacation Society" begins and lasts until March 31st

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I've not always done what is in your best interest. I have been...angry and resentful and loud and perhaps it is excusable behavior for a mortal, but I am meant to be...above all that.

[Meant to be. Perhaps that was not so very meant to be.]

It's not excusable for mortals either. I just got over it. [He shrugs, folding the paper at a corner and then at the opposite diagonal side.]

It's not like everyone is always doing things in everyone's best interest. That gods can be selfish too is kind of comforting if I'm being honest.

Besides we can't take back what has happened, [He makes a face at his work then constructs it slowly into another little lantern.] What do you plan to do from here on? That's what counts.

I...don't know.

[They sound a bit lost. They watch him folding his paper, crease by crease, without really seeing it.]

This ceasefire between myself and...my compatriot...will not last forever. As long as we are both here, we will continue to never quite see eye to eye. In spite of all things.

[He stares out at the water and bends carefully over the small lantern. He makes the mark he saw on his father’s shoulder on his coat onto the paper.

It is set by the first lantern as he takes a blue piece and sets to folding it.] Can you at least talk to each other?

Edited (Phone autocorrect) 2020-03-18 16:02 (UTC)

And say what? We are past words, the two of us. The Water thinks this world an anathema, and me even worse for sustaining it.

[Keith looks at the paper in his hands and his eyes narrow. He bends over it to shape it, grabbing grey and black papers. He folds and folds, eyes on the small Blue Lion taking shape in his hands.]

They said that to me too. But they also want answers. Maybe I’ll talk to them instead. There’s got to be something. Some way forward that isn’t just...

[Death. The small Blue Lion lantern feels right. He looks down at it and draws on a small L and an A.]

Perhaps they ought not to look for them. Answers are...they can be a burden.

[Their shoulders droop a little, though their eyes remain fixed on the distant horizon - the line where the sky meets the sea.]

Yeah, but so is the feeling of missing something and not knowing why. [His voice is soft, maybe a little too soft. That feeling he knows so well it causes a physical ache in his chest. So many years not knowing why he was different than everyone around him. His feelings. His instincts. All of it telling him to look to the sky above him. He picks up a sheet of red and starts to fold it. He keeps talking, his voice oddly calm.

Since he made his decision it felt like some of the stress and the pain faded. He can focus now he has a set goal.]

But that's my opinion and experience from the mortal side of things. I'm not going to say I get it, I'm not a god. ...if you could do something, something you wanted to do, what would you do?

Oh, I know that feeling very well.

[The tone there is bitter, warped with longing. Perhaps they prefer the ache of not knowing to the certainty that came in its stead.]

What would I do...?

I would have them back. [They speak without hesitation, but the note of grief is more than evident.] My friends...I would have them back, by any means.

[Keith’s expression softens as he says,] I’m going to try to save you and Water and anyone else I can. I won’t know if it can be done if I don’t try.

I can’t promise anything. It would be cruel to make that kind of vow. But, [His newest lantern is the red lion. He marks it with Alfor’s mark and sets it by the other,]

I’ll try my best. Any means I have open, I’ll try it. [He will give and give. Shiro knows he is like this. He probably suspected it would come to Keith going to the wire and beyond to try and save them all.]

Ordinarily, I'd say that's impossible.

[Ordinarily. The Storyteller's restlessly twitching fingers still for a moment, and they lift their head to look at Keith with their ink-dark simian eyes.]

...but if there is one thing that you've all proven to be, it's...surprising. What is and should be impossible hardly seems to sway your convictions.

Regardless of what is possible and what is not, I...wish you the best.

I’ll do my best. [He says, his words are a vow to Storyteller and himself. To all of them. Keith takes another paper, folding it carefully. He looks away from his work to Storyteller’s own eyes.

He nods once and looks to the lanterns.] For what it’s worth I don’t regret my time here. I got chances to see and understand things...meet people I would have seen no where else.

Is it wrong of me not to regret it either?

[They whisper the words quietly, and then fall silent, almost abashed, head ducking down between their shoulders.]

...it's wrong of me, isn't it? I am responsible, in part, for much of what has occurred here, and yet - I think that if I had not met some of you, I would not be the same as I am now.

I don’t know. [He admits as he looks down at the papers he has been working on. The ghost of his father. Alfor. All of the people that went missing.] I think it’s possible to accept choices you made did damage.

And still not regret them. But, there’s still something to be done about the damage. [He says as he picks up the lantern he made for his pop.]

My pop fought fires. He used to tell me he had the easy part. The rebuilding is harder, he would say. We’re still in the fire. Have to figure out how to rebuild or build at all.

Or whether to build the same structure, over and over, if it keeps falling to pieces.

Are such damages an inevitability?

[There are too many things they never wanted to consider, and too many things that they never thought would be relevant, and yet here they are, thinking them over, considering them at length.]

[They never used to do that before.]

[He checks over the lantern and thinks about that. Storyteller is asking for a solid answer. He will give them one.]

Yeah, I think some damage is unavoidable. Time happens. Change happens. People being people happens. To grow things have to change and sometimes that change comes at a price.

[He swipes his finger across the scar on the side of his face. It doesn’t hurt these days. But some mornings the skin pulls a little tight and he buries his face against Shiro’s shoulder for a breath or two.]

Whatever you build, that’s up to you. If you’re rebuilding the same thing all the time and it falls apart something is missing. It has to be. Or. The structure needs some remodeling. More support somewhere.

Scrap it all and start again?

[There's a morose note in their tone as they say it.]

[Perhaps he is right. An ephemeral creature, one who has weathered the scars and pains of everyday living, would certainly know better than they.]

Is destruction always going to be a part of that process? At times it feels that I am best at meting out said destruction, but not at much else. But if it will all go to pieces anyway, perhaps that destruction is inevitable.

[Keith stares out at the water instead of looking at Storyteller. The words struck an old cord. It doesn't hurt anymore. But it's enough to make him say quietly,]

...all I used to be good for was destroying things. Chances, people's faces, my own sense of worth. [He smiles down at his hands with a tinge of bitterness.]

One day some top of the heap flyboy gave me a chance. [His face softens, warmth entering his eyes and he closes them with a laugh. Then he stops. He puts his hands down and looks at Storyteller.]

Hey wait. You're Memory. If I describe my memories...could you see them better? Like...see what I'm talking about?

...yes. I always...

[Something in their expression and their tone eases and, simultaneously, achieves an ache of longing.]

Whenever you told your stories, I would...I would enjoy losing myself in them. I did not wish to. I did not want to betray that, that privacy, but it was not my choice. I am Memory, I am Stories, and so I feel those things deeply. So when the stories you told were so different from my own, from my life and my choices, I liked...it was better to be...somewhere else.

[Someone else.]

[It was better to be someone else.]

You may tell your story, if you like. I will see it clearly.

[Keith stares out at the water again. Storyteller could truly see...truly see what it was like from his memories. It should make him uncomfortable. As he rests his hands on his thighs in thought...it only strengthens his resolve.]

...So you've seen them all. When I talked about the birth of Voltron and its dark history... [The choices of his and Shiro's predecessor lay before him like a book. All the stories he's told before too. Keith nods once.]

When Shiro walked into my life everyone had given up on me, even myself. The teacher didn't even want me to sign up to the Garrison. She offered someone else but Shiro didn't let that sway him. [He coughs, feeling a little embarrassed as he adds,] He didn't let my attempt to drive him off work either.

I didn't know it was because he'd been in my shoes before in a different way until way later. [Before he lost him for the first time.] I've spent a lot of my life trying to self sabotage or letting my emotions get the better of me. I didn't find any sort of way out of that cycle of self destruction until I faced what I really wanted.

[He looks at Storyteller with that truth in his head.] Somewhere to belong. It wasn't easy. I don't think it ever is. We all have a place and you really didn't even get to settle into the one you were given before it got ripped away.

...then you tried to make one. If we have the wills you need, maybe you can lean on us to help this time. Maybe... We can make something together.

[They close their eyes for a moment, and let the words wash over them. They can feel mere echoes associated with the words - loss, frustration, confusion, and then something almost like hope.]

I thought that was what I was doing here. Making a space to belong. But it all became so...messy.

He helped you. Shiro. He grounded you.

What would happen if you were to lose that? That person who understood you so completely, so utterly?

[He glances at Storyteller and lets himself imagine it. It isn't hard. He keeps losing him at home and here. He will fight for him. Fight to the end but to fully, completely lose him...

It feels like he's caught in a whirlwind of glass. The agony crashes through him as he lets himself feel the grief and the sense that he's lost the other half of himself.]

It would hurt. [He says at last, his voice low because he can't manage to raise it or speak normally in the wake of that storm.] I'd hurt for a long, long time.

Every moment with him is worth everything. I'd carry all that with me, [Keith presses his hand to his chest as he says,] Right here.

But I'd keep going because he'd want that and because that's what I am. I can't be what I was before. The wreck or the simple Paladin. I'm the Black Paladin. People rely on me to keep them safe and make sure the universe is fair. I'd keep doing that. Maybe the pain would never leave.

I don't know. I'd learn to live with it if it was always there. Wallowing in it isn't what he'd want. Maybe someone would come along who gets me again. Maybe not. Either way, that's what I'd do.

[People rely on him. The Storyteller is once again silent for a moment before they finally speak aloud, quietly:]

Was this ever a responsibility you asked for? Did you shoulder it willingly, knowing what would come of it...or did it happen to you?

[His hand falls back onto his leg and he slowly shakes his head.] I didn't ask for it. I never wanted it. The Black Lion accepted me when I asked it for help.

[And Shiro had asked him to lead the team if anything happened to him. Then...it did. He vanished and Keith was left with a hole in his heart that felt like everything was falling out of it. It felt cold and dark like the world around him was freezing up.] It happened to me the first time.

Shiro went missing. Then he came back. But he...wasn't okay. I left. The universe couldn't afford Voltron breaking apart when they needed it most.

[He'd left to find himself. Voltron is home but, he had felt lost and spinning in the void. Keith sighs.] But I took it up willingly when I was needed. I've been shouldering it ever since. There. Here.

Because it was needed of you. Because...it was required.

[That much is apparent. From his stories, and from who he is now.]

How do you stomach it? Knowing that so much could go wrong by your own error?

March Undercurrent: Lost Connections

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