Lance discovered that he really really disliked this occupational hazard part that comes with saving the universe, especially when his jetpack sputters while he's suspended over god know how deep a gorge. After the initial panic induced launch Lance tried to remain still and aerodynamic, but as his boosters failed he began to panic. Sure he had been in dangerous situations before, but not one where he plummeted to an unknown death among opaque gray mist filled chasam, can you blame him?
Needless to say, a panicked Lance is a silly Lance. Flailing his arms in huge windmill patterns, he kicked his legs out, resulting in an odd swimlike motion. A wordless cry for help failing to be vocalized, settling on the tip of his tongue. Slamming his blue armored fist against the hard metal of the jetpack, Lance elicited a shuddering groan and the jetpack flared to life again, rocketing toward the pale yellow trees rooted to the opposite edge of the chasm. Lance hit a tree reminiscent of an aspen head on, his right shoulder connecting solidly with the paper-like bark, while the rest of his body continued flying forward.
He spun crazily from the hit, slamming sideways into another tree, before his jetpack gave a ear wrenching whine and died, smoke billowing out of the boosters. Lance tumbled backward, propelled by momentum into an outcropping branch. He soundlessly shreeched as his back emitted a sharp crack before bouncing off like a ping-pong ball, all the while gravity pulled its insidious strings. He knew the outcome of his next standoff with a tree; he would lose, painfully. Unfortunately there was nothing he could do, as the remaining momentum of his jump flung his grasping fingers past the tree branches. He slammed chest first onto a thick branch, forcing all the oxygen out of his lungs in a pitiful wheeze.
He cried in silent agony, eyes squeezed shut, arms wrapping around the branch in a choke hold, the bark painfully digging into his fabric clad arms. For a few seconds, he hung there limply, legs dangling down, struggling to regain his breath. After a few moments his breath evened out and he opened his eyes; before quickly snapping them shut. Wonky vision was one thing, but swirling stars and blobby trees was not conducive to seeing straight or reducing nausea. A silent groan vibrated in his chest. Normally Lance wasn't afraid of heights, but quiznack! He couldn't even see the ground or the gorge due to the gray fog enveloping the landscape. Eyes clamped shut Lance slowly clawed his way down and around the trunk, fingers scratched and full of splinters.
He cracked his eyes open once he had scaled down the almost aspen like tree. Glancing around Lance saw that he stood, albeit shakily, on a forest floor covered in pine needles, pine cones, and a myriad of leaf debris. He stood for all of two seconds before his knees buckled, sending Lance sprawling on his butt, arms locked at the elbows, the only thing keeping him from completely adrenaline drained from his system, leaving him numb and shaky. All the while during his wild escape from scorching lava and dangerous height ellipsing death Keith's voice persisted in his ears.
Lance laughed breathlessly, at least he knew Keith was alright, though there had been an ominous stretch of silence. The others had gone silent a while back, and Lance was sure that even if they had said anything, Keith's loud panicked voice would've drowned them out. Lance stared a moment, eyes zoning out over the lava dripping over the gorge's edge, hissing and steaming as it dripped into the rock chasm below.
Silently Lance wondered how to communicate with Keith. Sure the mullet was annoying but hearing the desperation and fear in Keith's voice struck a chord deep in Lance, reminding him that they were family He didn't know if Keith knew morse code. 'Not that it mattered anyway,' he thought bitterly, 'Keith's speakers were most likely busted. He wouldn't be able to hear me even if I could speak.' Lance pondered it a moment longer when an idea struck him.
He smacked himself in the forehead, or rather his helmet's forehead. 'Of course, why didn't I think of it sooner!? The helmets were enabled with a video call function.' Lance just prayed that it hadn't been damaged in his various tumbles that day.
If Lance flipped his camera around and wrote a message in the dirt, Keith would be able to see it and actually reply. Lance grunted as he sat up straight, curling his legs in tighter to his body, arms relaxing, numb from the releasing their previous strain. Deliberately he glanced around, eyes peeled, vision still slightly blurry. Quickly he spied a somewhat thick branch that was perfect to write with as the ground was too hard and rough for his fingernails, not that he had any more fingernails at this point. Lance internally sighed at the terrible state of his nails, it would take more than a manicure to fix them. Stripping his branch of its still remaining silver and purple veined leaves, providing a better surface to hold, Lance grinned.
'Yep! This'll do.' For a second Lance was tempted to pretend sword fight before remembering the gravity of his situation.
He scratched his message in the hard packed earth, grunting faintly with the effort. Then his hands went to his ears, where the control buttons were located on the outside of the smooth metal. First, checking that the camera lense was intact and could encompass the entire message (it would be no good if Keith couldn't read the whole message) Lance flipped the camera around and hit the call button. It shocked Lance when Keith answered the transmission after a few seconds, to see, a crimson water-like substance dripping from his soaked mullet and stringy, gooey yellow snot dripping from his nose.
Lance was confused, maybe he hit his head a little too hard, but surely that image was wrong. 'Keith would have been wearing his helmet, encasing him in an airtight bubble, nothing should be able to get in, unless it was blood.' It took a minute but Lance noticed the glaringly obvious crack branching across the helmet glass, trailing from the dark haired teen's right eyebrow, skittering across his right violet eye and bridge of his nose to end midway across the left cheek.
'Oh,' Was the most obvious first thought in Lance's mind, the second was 'How quiznackingly hard was he hit?' Those helmets were practically invincible. Trust him, Lance had experimented, extensively.
Keith bit back a strangled yelp as the video call answer button burst into life across his helmet screen, distorted by the crack maring its surface. He quickly slammed the answer button, engaging the call. Keith blinked, confused for a second. Instead of the expected image of his teammate's face, he saw a hurriedly scratched message written in the hard packed earth, surrounded by oddly colored silver and purple forest loam. He tried to scan the message when the camera jostled and a blue gauntlet blurred across the screen. It moved a moment later revealing a hurriedly sprawled message underneath the first, careful handwriting progressing to become scribbled and barely legible. Scanning both messages, Keith recognized Lance's untidy scrawl spelling out the words; Yo Keith, we can hear you but your speakers are broken, you can't hear us. Is that BLOOD?! What happened? Keith cringed, thinking back to a few minutes ago.
The cabin was dark, only faintly illuminated by the glowing strips of emergency red lighting when Keith awoke. He groaned, eyes fluttering open to take in his dimly lit surroundings. It felt like his was back at the under Allura's training regime, that's how much his entire body ached. Wincing Keith rubbed an hand over his sore chest. He might have bruised a few ribs when he slammed into Red's console during the attack. Keith blinked a few times, forcing his brain to process his situation. He glanced around the cockpit to see that all of Red's screens were black, and no welcoming hum from his Lion.
'Great.' Keith growled in frustration. 'Just great, of course there's no power. It's never easy for me is it?
It was then that he realised how disturbingly quiet his comms were. Typically there would have been some kind of status report by now. Fearing the worst he jerked forward, nearly screaming into the comms.
"Keith to Voltron! Team status report! Hello? Is everyone alright?!
Keith waited a few moments, maybe everyone was indisposed somehow? Keith knew he was grasping at straws so he tried again.
"Hello!?" Now Keith was annoyed, "Guys if this is a prank, it's not very funny. Someone just ANSWER me!"
Truly panicking now, Keith blamed the blood pounding in his ears that he was not to hear his own voice.
"SHIRO!? HUNK!? Allura!? Coran!? Pidge?...Lance?"
First he called those who wouldn't be in on such a cruel prank, but his voice fell to a whimper, still awaiting any response but none came.
He was startled out of his thoughts when he felt liquid lapping against his ankles. He jerked his feet out of the dark blood colored water. He dearly hoped it was just a coloring effect from the emergency lights. 'Why would liqui-Red's armour must be cracked! Quiznack I need to find the leak.'
He silently cursed, as he wading in now knee deep liquid. 'It's pooling too fast, I need to get out.'
Keith he surged towards the emergency exit, urgency lending him the strength to pry it open with brute force. That was a terrible hatch opened underwater and liquid pounded onto Keith's shoulder, slamming him to the floor of the cockpit with a splash. His breath forced from his lungs in a fatal whoosh. He lay trapped under the tons of force provided by the waterfall of dirty crimson water. Sprawled in a painful position, arms and legs bent in awkward ways and body sealed to the metal floor, Keith cursed his cracked helmet. If only the helmet was sealed, then he would have no fear about breathing underwater. But now? Keith prayed for the the flow to end quickly. He winced as the water pounding on his back sent pangs, like pins and needles, through the rest of his body.
He cussed in shock when he felt the ice cold touch of water against his cheek and corner of his mouth, trickling in from the crack. Probably not the most intelligent decision Keith has ever made, since when opened his mouth to utter the foul words, water rushed in. He sputtered and tried to buck upwards but the water kept him pinned to the floor, only managing to lash out in a sidewards motion. Thankfully, only a little water managed to squeeze into his helmet. After he dispelled the liquid from his system, Keith closed his mouth only breathing through his nose in an attempt to avoid a repeat performance.
Unable to move out from under the the harsh flow Keith could only wait for the water pressure to equalize. Precious ticks sped by, his helmet slowly filling as each one passed. Suddenly Keith saw the crack in his helmet widen from the pressure, allowing the liquid to surge into his helmet. Terrified Keith held his breath as the freezing water covered his nose, inching its way up to his eyes. Squeezing his eyes shut, heart threatening to burst right out of his chest Keith felt panic set into his stomach.
'What if he died here?'
'No!' Keith pushed that thought from his mind, he would never give up until he found his answers. Keith could feel his senses start to fade, he had already lost the feeling in his toes. Then, just as his lungs begged for air, the pressure equalized and Keith shot towards the surface. He managed to squirm his way through the emergency exit without breaking his stroke. Upward he went, still holding his breath, as water continued slipping in through the crack.
A beat or two later Keith's head broke through the lake's glass like complexion, sending little ripples scampering to the shoreline. He jerked his head back, allowing the water to pool at the bottom of his helmet, soaking his hair with its icy clutches. Keith gasped in large lungfuls of air, chest rapidly rising and falling. Panting slightly, Keith treaded water as he struggled to regain his breath once he could take more than just sips of air, he flopped onto his back, floating on the surface of the lake, conversing his energy. He even closed his eyes for a second, completely exhausted. After a few minutes he flipped onto his stomach, scanning the shoreline for a place to land.
'Good, it's not too far.' Grunting with exertion Keith grabbed a gulp of oxygen before speeding towards the shore with his fastest stroke. For a guy who lived in the desert all of his life, just knowing how to swim was impressive, even if he had no technique. It almost seemed like Keith was thrashing in panic as he forcefully propelled his body through the water, movements choppy and ineffective. Now in the sunlight Keith clearly saw the crimson blood color of the lake. The water like substance was a thicker consistency as well, slowing Keith down. After five minutes of his harsh uncoordinated strokes Keith hit the shoreline. He hauled himself up onto the fern-covered soft earth, coating his soaked armor in crumbly lilac soil. He rolled on his back, feeling the water in his helmet slid towards his hair as his lungs filled with the sweet relief of clean air.
Keith considered himself fortunate that this atmosphere was human friendly. As he felt his chest fully expand and contrast, he set about releasing his helmet to drain the collected water. He reached up and felt around for the clasp located at the base of his neck. His fingers grazed across the smooth surface of the suit, sliding eerily fast across the wet metal for a few moments before finally bumping the clasp. Quickly his fingers wrapped around the metal ends, straining to pry them apart, only to have his fingers slip multiple times. His nails scraping against the worn, somewhat rusted metal. Keith growled, the sound vibrating deep in the back of his throat and chest.
'Great,' He grumbled, in exasperation. 'It's rusted shut, now I can't even drain the water from my helmet.'
Keith sighed, closing his eyes, letting his mind work through the problem. Keith shivered, his ears numb from the prolonged submersion in the bone chilling blood water. Suddenly an idea came to him and Keith quickly straightened into a sitting position. An action he regretted a moment later as he splashed the liquid sitting in the bottom of the helmet up his nose.
Immediately he began to cough and hack, not that it did any good, as every time his body jerked to expel water the force of the motion would cause more liquid to gush into his mouth and nose. Finally Keith coughed hard enough that his head ended up hung between his knees and the liquid dripped from his cheeks in rivelts to pool on the front of his helmet. As he panted, Keith realized his love for air after his many episodes of lacking it.
'Right, not doing that again.' Keith thought as a shiver run up his spine. Slowly he tilted his head till he was facing straight ahead. He could feel the cold brush of the crimson water as it slide down his neck. Noticing his cracked helmet gave Keith an idea.
He took a minute to just breathe, allowing his heartbeat a moment to slow down, maybe without the pounding in his ears he would be able to hear. Then he took one more breathe.
Then, quickly before he could change his mind, he flipped his head over, eyes squeezed shut and cheeks puffed out with oxygen. Slowly the water trickled from Keith's hair to drain out the crack leaving his once submerged skin tickly and numb. Keith clawed at the ferns as time ticked on, eventually holding on with a white knuckle grip. So tight was his grip that he accidentally cut the plants with his nails, causing their sticky slime to ooze out all over his gloves.
Desperate to spend as little time as possible upside down Keith ignored his bodily discomforts and focused on the water still in his helmet. He could feel his helmet get lighter and knew he was almost there. Red armoured arms shook with exertion as he grew light-headed.
'Come on, hurry up! Keith thought recklessly, hair plastered to his cheeks by the dripping water, 'Just a little longer.'
He counted the seconds before the last bit of water drained away from his mouth and nose. 45. Almost a full minute of holding his head upside down. Gasping he collapsed onto his stomach, panting for air. The red paladin relished the sweet life bringing oxygen that graced his lungs. Slowly he opened his eyes; all he saw was blurry blobs from the excess water trickling down his eyelashes. The crimson water droplets trailed down the tip of his nose before splashing down to join the rapidly diminishing puddle in his helmet.
Looking around Keith noticed that he sat in a veritable puddle of the liquid, and every movement sent little ripples to the edges. Keith saw the light purple ferns sway under the puddle's surface, individual lavender leaves impossible to distinguish. Then just as the last of the water was dripping out of the red paladins' helmet, he sneezed violently and shivered. Yellow gooey snot was plastered to the inside lower portion of the helmet and hanging out of his nose in long icky strands.
'Ugh.' He thought, 'just when I thought things couldn't get any worse.' Keith couldn't even wipe it away. Keith sighed, he hoped he wasn't developing a cold, that was the last thing he needed.
He sat up slowly, like an old man, his body aching all over. He shuddered as droplets of crimson water slid down his spine, chilling him. Suddenly a video call button burst into life across his cracked screen.
Keith blinked his violet eyes owlishly, pulling himself out of his flashback. He glance at the call and bit back a yelp at the unexpected face of his concerned blue-eyed teammate. Apparently his flashback was long enough that Lance had reversed the camera to see him. Lance quirked an eyebrow, it's meaning clear. 'Well, aren't you going to answer?'
Quickly the red paladin launched into a ressuraing explanation, Keith yet again blaming his adrenaline jacked heart pounding in his ears for his lack of hearing his own voice.
Thankfully he could feel his vocal cords vibrating, so he knew that he spoke. Lance's abrupt facial feature changes were yet another indicator that of speech. Lance's face drained of color, blue eyes popping in the pale skin, as Keith retold his circumstances. He saw Lance cringe at his description of emptying out his helmet, a horrified expression plastered across his face. Then faster than Keith could blink, Lance's camera snapped back around and the blue-clad hand blurred across the screen. No doubt Lance was scribbling out another message. Sure enough Lance's hand moved out of the camera and a message lay in its wake. It read; can you stand? Keith huffed, why wouldn't he be able to? He hadn't fallen and swimming wasn't as exhausting as Alura's training regime.
"Yes." He grunted before shakily getting to his feet.
Keith's lips twitched upward slightly at his small victory. Once again Keith focused his attention on the video call, only to see a new question written in the hard packed earth. Is your GPS system damaged? Can you lock onto my position? He grunted an affirmative, before messing with the buttons on the side of his helmet. After pressing a few he was able to effectively lock onto Lance's position, indicated by the blue arrow pulsing in the upper right corner of his screen.
Thankfully it was only slightly distorted by the crack stretching across his helmet screen. A silver blur from the corner of his vision caught Keith's attention. Flashes of silver violet, which Keith identified as leaves of some sort flashed in front of the camera lense. A moment later they withdrew, revealing yet another hurriedly sprawled note. Good, and I got your position locked, if we keep walking toward each other eventually we will have to bump into each other, right?
Keith nodded. "Good plan Lance, see you on the other side."
The silver violet leaves flashed across the screen one last time, bringing one final message; Good Luck, written in Spanish as buena suerte. Keith nodded in determination before heading off away from the lake where his lion lay submerged and strode in the direction of the blue paladin.
Lance sighed with fatigue when he cut the call before wincing, one hand flying to his side, as he stood.
'Awesome,' He grumbled silently. 'I bet I bruised one of my ribs. Note to self: stop hugging trees, they don't give nice hugs in return.' He huffed before instantly regretting it as a splash of hot pain blossomed in his chest, before fading to a dull pain.
'This trip is such a joy already.' He thought sarcastically as he began the trud through the silver violet forest. He was ecstatic to leave behind the volcano and its 'turn Lance into a puddle' lava, but also, subsequently leaving Blue as well. He grimaced at the thought of Blue being left behind, but there was scant he could do about it.
Over an hour and a half later Lance found himself at the edge of the woods. During his entire trek Lance found his eyes glued to the sky. Trees of all kinds kept him company on the long trek; trees reminiscent of pine, maple, oaks, and aspens. Any type imaginable, even tropical varieties were present, the only difference between them and the ones that grew back on earth, Lance noted, was the coloring.
These trees sported pearly white trunks with eye catchingly violet leaves that were covered under a thin film of silver glitter. Additionally silver violet pine needles were scattered across the forest floor, giving the ground a disco ball feeling. Fire-moss, named quite well by Lance, clung to the white as ash rocks, shifting in hue from yellow, to orange, and bright red. Black sand and a blazing red sun greeted Lance when he finally stumbled out of the bejeweled forest. He sighed silently when he realized he had to cross, an entire desert to get to Keith. Maybe he should just let Keith come to him? It's not like he would know and it wouldn't be good if either of them got heat stroke. But...was it wrong for Lance to want to be lazy? He was just conversing his energy, he argued with himself. If he didn't have to travel the entire then why should he? But banishing those thoughts to the back of his mind Lance took a step onto the barren black sand.