#was stuck on allura

[torveiglyart]

The voltron crew as quotes I saw on bags while on vacation:

I always carry a knife in my purse. You know, in case of cheesecake or something. -Keith

Taking off my makeup at the end of the day is always bittersweet. Like goodbye fierce and confident bitch, hello bitch who can rub her eyes. -Lance

Parenting hacks 101. There are none. Good luck. -Shiro

High maintenance 🍃. -Pidge

If a glass of wine is good for you, imagine what the whole bottle can do. -Coran

My vacation budget and a seagull flew away with my fries. -Hunk

Take me and you get a free ride in a police car. -Allura

[kreeeeeez]

[aiendeeay]

okay real question, was anyone actually happy that lance ended up with allura???

[saltwife]

When it's Lotura Week but you're kind of stuck on bears... If I accomplish nothing else this year at least I made this, the Bear AU no one asked for. :V It's Bearllura and Beartor, the rulers of Alaskaltea! I guess??!

@loturaweek2023

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[thebiggestfuckgiven]

i was peacefully working a closing shift when i was struck by a horrible yet wonderful and supremely indulgent idea:

Danny Phantom x Voltron crossover

[lazlolullaby]

Catfishing, a Shallura Fic

Here’s a shallura fic that I’m working on~ I’ve been pulling it up every October or so and keep getting stalled, so here’s the opening. I hope you like it!

Quick summary: Witch!Allura summons Cat!Shiro to be her Familiar. But of course, he lied on his online profile. Still, she tries to keep her head up.

Allura read the directions three times over.

There was always a nervous pit in her stomach when it came to new spells. A frizzle of excitement at her fingertips; like her powers were ready to pour out of her at any moment. Allura knelt down on a blanket, as to not hurt her knees. She inhaled, steadying her hands before drawing the circle. She put the sigils on the inside, then laid alternating tributes of snowflake obsidian and Oreos over them.

Allura was glad her potential partner had sweet tooth like she did. The online profile was fitting most of her criteria in a Familiar; not too old to feel babysat by them, not too young she feels like a babysitter, a shared interest in astrology, a patient disposition, and experience in potion making.

Her dear Uncle Coran would complain that there was no fun in it anymore. The elder used to slapdash a Summoning together just to see whatever popped up. While ignoring whatever popped up was angry they were pulled away from something.

The internet expanded their worlds, yet made it seem so much smaller. Modern society didn’t know about the actual power she could wield; and Allura liked it that way. She was merely a young woman who practiced her religion. It was comforting, keeping the rituals passed down from her mother and grandmother. If the key-chains she made were never lost, or her mugs kept tea at just the right temperature, that was just a bonus.

There was only so much one could do alone, which was why she sought a Familiar. Their heightened senses and connection to magic itself aided a witch in their studies. A partner that understood their ability in its fullest, and helped it grow.

She had been trying with several these past few months. Her poor neighbors thought she was bringing her veterinary work home with her; an absentminded parrot, an overactive Xoloitzcuintle dog, a string of indecisive geckos and distracting budgies. But as Coran pointed out; Allura was a traditionalist. When she saw the listing for a house cat, it was like fate.

Allura chanted the spell softly under her breath, and placed her hands on the markings. There was a surge of power in her hands, the vertigo made her head spin. And suddenly it was over. Allura opened her eyes.

A black and white cat was in the center of the circle, as promised. Wide gray eyes were looking at her, it’s body tensed for a moment, as if ready to jump away. The profile may need updating – the picture promised a classic tuxedo, but she could see sprinklings of white hairs here and there. She could chalk it up to stress, or an outdated photo. Then she saw his front paws. There was a prosthetic made of gray and black plastic, with a shield up to his shoulder, and small parts molded to look like toes. That wasn’t typical, most feline prosthesis only had a nub to walk on. The problem was that he didn’t let her know.

She’s met with her share of liars over the internet. The Xolo dog “forgetting to mention” he hadn’t had experience in potions, a Witch and Familiar trying to add a third, an errant Demon Hunter (as if Demons existed)...it was a wonder she still tried at all.

An injury like that would require some permanent changes to her home, even if he keep his prosthetic on. Ergonomic door handles, specialized cutting boards, maybe even a shower chair? At least she already had an electric jar opener. (And Coran said it was a waste! Well, it paid for itself in pickles and kimchi more than a partner ever could!)

Allura was getting ahead of herself, as usual. She turned to the side, picking up the contract she had prepared. The unusual terms made even more sense now. “Good afternoon,” she bowed politely. “I am Allura of Clan Altea, and I ask for your partnership as a Familiar. I understand your request and have modified the standard terms.”

The Familiar blinked, then seemed to recover and bowed in turn. “Good morning Allura.” his voice was deep, held steady by composure. “I am Shiro, and I...would like a minute.” he backed up, picking up the Oreos and the contract. They seemed to disappear out of view behind him. An essential trait of a Familiar. “Do you have a bathroom I could use?”

Her welcoming smile didn’t falter, “Yes, through that hallway, first on the right.”

Shiro nodded, his feline body gracefully dipping before nearly running out of sight.

Allura waited until she heard the door close and then she sighed and stood up. This was starting out spectacularly. .

.

.

So - there’s more. And an outline. This could be the year I finish it~ Thank you~

[angstandhappiness]

LMAO YES

I was trying to design casual outfits for Human Allura and Coran and then thought what mysteries could be under the jacket, then I imagined and I laughed.

If I ever get stuck in space, I want to be wearing that shirt.

[empty-blog-for-lurking]

Ough ship of theseus au........ Im so fascinated by this concept of the world slowly changing loop by loop, its so horryfying<33 is it known what exactly caused the loop? Also, im wondering, how far off the deep end does lance go? You said he starts Doing Things, does he do stuff to try to break the loop, to try and save his friends, does he slowly go mad? Some combination of these? Something else entirely? Either way this au sounds epic as fuck🔥🔥🔥

I am so glad you like it!!!! As for what caused the loop, I have few options-

Unintended consequences of Haggar destroying the multiverse and her and Allura being unable to fix it correctly. So instead the universe's timeline just keeps repeating itself, like a broken record

2) Unintended consequences of 10,000 years of destruction caused by the Galran empire. It fucked up their specific reality SO MUCH, that the literally the only way to preserve any life on said reality was to coil it onto itself creating a loop repeating itself like recorded videos on repeat and hope for the best.

3) things having been Always Been Like This™. Nobody knows when the time loops started or why it was started because the universe has changed so much and to the point that what was 'original' reality and the main perpetrators and the circumstances that made them begin the time loop is all but gone. The timeline that was the shows canon was simply one of the thousands Or even millions of loops these characters had gone through and didn't even know. The only difference being that this timeline ended up creating conditions (such as trans-dimensional travel and Lance's altean marks) which enabled team voltron to remember and ultimately Lance getting kicked out

4) Lance did this through quintessence fuckery. He wanted to save Allura, and when he managed to save her (and Kuron) through time travel he was Kicked Out™ of the timeline which got stuck in a loop

Either way there's a loop, and no one is there to control it Or end it. Lance remembers and tries to save people for several loops until eventually it causes him to be erased from the timeline for a bit. Think gaster from undertale. Just got put in a little timeout box beyond reality, time and existence itself no biggie he can still watch his friends and family go through same/similar shit over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again.

Only much later that he realizes that the loops are also changing. At first he blamed his own faulty memory but later he realized that no it is changing. The fucking genre is in fact changing

I imagine this was not a pleasant realization.

Lance also goes through various moods, at first he's trying to save people (first time he realized he was in a time loop he saved Allura and Kuron but then Hunk died, so he tried to save Hunk in next loop but then his family died and so on so forth until finally where everyone else is saved but he is erased)

After which he kinda had a long depression period, followed by a period of frustration and rage when he kills a God (most likely Bob) so he can do more in the universe

I also think his opinion on time loop keeps on swinging cause on one hand it's literal fucking torture, on the other hand it offers familiarity and assurance that no matter what atleast they'll stay alive (right up until he realizes that there is a very real chance of time loop changes can erase them as well and unlike him most of them (aside from Allura and maybe Shiro) don't have that specific cocktail of quintessence fuckery to keep them alive)

Overall i making this up as i go man

[ethereance]

Lance: Well diddly darn, the Galra Empire are being total buttheads. This is so Not crack-a lackin. Just absolute fiddlesticks. Allura: Lonce, honey I love you, but please just say fuck

Asrtyfdguigfg

Galra empire should be quaking in their boots right now. Truly the most language to ever

[fagdykevash]

having a vld specific blog is. more difficult than i thought it'd be??? like i can't post my writing or art bc yk. rejection. but i can't reblog anything bc even looking at one (1) headcanon gets me overstimulated. sighs

[angstandhappiness]

LMAO SAME GIRL

allura: so paladins, on earth how do you measure a “year”

lance: in daylights

hunk: in sunsets

keith: in midnights

pidge: in cups of coffee

shiro: in inches in miles in laughter and strife

allura: what-

the paladins in unison: in five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes how do you measure a year in a life

allura: yes thats what i was trying to ask-

the paladins: HOW ABOUT LOVE?

allura:

[jiveyuncle]

Hunk snickers, Pidge attacks Lance, Shiro lets it happen, and Keith, Allura, and Coran are all confused. Sorry, I’m forever stuck in the 00’s, so they are too lmao

[Inspired by a “bish” prompt I received on insta]

[bluemantics]

do you think when lance first stepped into red, he saw pieces of the former red paladin left behind? felt the imprints of his hands in the controls? do you think he noticed the snacks keith hid under the console, the sticker pidge gifted him stuck on his chair, the faint smell of whiskey-musk spray that he bought to clear out the scent of blood after rougher battles?

lance thought that red's cockpit would be empty and cold. he didn't think keith was one for comfort or sentimentality, based on his empty room and his plain outfits. but... here it was. evidence of keith, littering the inside of a lion clearly well-maintained.

with trepidation, lance put his hand on the controls and felt the way each of his fingers fit in the grooves left behind. his hands were slightly too slender.

he wondered how allura would react to the traces he'd left. a pillow and a pair of extra socks, and maybe an alien comic magazine.

more achingly, he pictured keith, trying to fit his smaller frame in a large, black seat. lance hoped in vain that shiro left fewer traces. he knew keith would see shiro in every little shadow, every slight trace anyways. 

that was the thing about chasing after someone you admire for so long.

attempting to push past the coil of emotion in his throat, lance walked back out of red, prepared to soothe his tense, cornered leader.

[autisticlancemcclain]

Keith walks into his room after a deliciously vigorous training season, wiping his sweaty face with a towel, and immediately notices something is off.

He freezes, towel clamped to the back of his neck, and carefully scans his room from corner to corner. His lock was still intact when he walked in, so unlikely break-in. His bed is still exactly as messy as it was when he left it. His dresser drawer is still left cracked slightly open, as he always leaves it, because it’s harder to put a drawer back to the same level of open it was before than to close it (he’s caught Hunk snooping through his shit many a time with this method. Thanks, Pa’s paranoia).

His gaze lands finally on a nondescript black book on his nightstand, and his eyebrows shoot up. He finished his book this morning and returned it to the library on his way to the training room.

He did not leave that black book there.

Wary, a thousand anxieties running through his brain, Keith approaches his nightstand bayard-first, sword extended and sharp. He pauses before he comes in contact, taking time to analyse it, attempt to puzzle out any kind of traps or discrepancies before they jump out at him. He can’t see any — the book is on the newer side, with a roughened black hardcover, gold detailing on the spine but no title or author. The paper looks thick and it’s strangely uncut, raggedy.

Hesitantly, Keith pokes it.

Nothing happens.

Less suspicious, now, he prods at it with his hands, and when that does nothing, he picks it up. It’s heavier than he expected. He cracks open the cover to reveal a red paper lining. Stuck to the inside of the cover is a baby blue post-it note, crookedly place, with only a neatly drawn heart in glitter gel pen. Keith can’t help the smile, even as his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“What even…”

Pinching the first page from the bottom corner so as to not accidentally rip any paper, he slowly turns it over.

He gasps, fumbling with the book as he nearly drops it.

“How did it…”

He recognises the first page — it’s his. Or he made it, anyway. Scrawled in every white space of the nearly parchment-esque alien paper is his own doodling, from a boring meeting several weeks back. He recognises the slightly mean drawing of the Capnir leader and his snooty expression in the left corner, and the ninety games of tic-tac-toe he played with Lance on the bottom half of the page (Lance insisted he won because he is a nasty cheater. Keith didn’t even know it was possible to cheat at tic-tac-toe, but it is. It’s crazy).

Gobsmacked, Keith begins to flip through the rest of the pages, eyes getting wider and nose getting closer to the book with every corner he turns. These are his doodles and drawings — hundreds of them, loose papers from meetings and scrawled diagrams from mission plans and notes to other paladins and dorky little drawings he made for his friends or because of his own boredom. There are grocery lists covered in drawings of engine parts and knives and strange alien vegetables, hand-to-hand manoeuvre diagrams, several drawings of Shiro as Captain America, of Pidge and Hunk covered in soot except for the line around their eyes from their goggles, of Allura with the mice in her hair, Coran in the wackiest outfit he’s ever seen, Shiro with his eye twitching from Slav, Matt making goo eyes at Allura. Some of Kolivan, even, with over-exaggerated eyebrows and a frown that touches his neck.

And dozens, maybe even hundreds, of drawings of Lance. Smirking at Keith from across the kitchen table before he instigates a Pidge-Hunk argument, crowing in victory after making a shot, serious and focused mid battle, face drooping and sad and fixed on a glowing blue Earth projection with his chin hooked over his knees. Drawings that itched at Keith’s fingers every hour of every day, that he barely tried to resist; snapshots of Lance that plagued his mind ‘til he finally found time to grab a pencil.

Drawings that he had, apparently, left scattered all over the castle without thinking.

He cradles his flaming face in his free hand, heart pounding in his ears. He’s sure — he knows he threw half of these out. Some of them he left lying around, sure, and others he left out deliberately for his friends to find, but — Keith knows he threw out the full-page and coloured portrait of Lance, bright and beautiful in a dozen shades of earth, smiling softly at Keith in the low-light of the common room well after midnight. He can see the creases and smudges from where he’d crumpled it, embarrassed, and where someone had fished it out of the trash and carefully straightened it back out, brushing dust out of the crevices.

“Oh my God.”

Hunk would never have been able to keep the secret with how long it would have taken to bind this book — by hand, by the looks of it. Allura couldn’t either. Both Pidge and Shiro would have been gleeful in mocking Keith about the clear affection in every pencil stroke. Coran would have probably stuck it proudly on the fridge — he did that, once, Keith remembers, with a sketch he’d done of the whole team during a movie night. It’s still there; it’s been so long that Keith doesn’t notice it anymore.

There’s only one person who would pick up the discarded slips of paper and slide them in his pocket — only one person who’s that kind of sentimental. One person who prints every photograph he takes of every planet they’ve ever been on, who pins up every drawing gifted to him by young children no matter how objectively horrible, who tears off notes written in the margins of battle plans and keeps them in a jar on his dresser. Only one person who has a scrapbook with a dried blade of grass from Arus and piece of sea glass from the mermaid planet and a napkin stained with food goo from their food fight all those years ago. Hell, there’s only one person on this castle with enough skill with a needle and thread to bind a whole ass book.

Keith drops his bayard to the floor with a clatter, book clenched in his fist, and sprints out of his room. He flies down the hallway, ignoring the startled shout from Pidge as she jumps out of his way and the wide-eyed stare from Allura. He almost runs straight into his brother, spinning to the right at the last minute and rushing past him without bothering to entertain his questions. He runs all the way to the MedBay, where he knows Lance is taking inventory for Coran, and nearly crashes right into the pods because he’s too pumped up to slow down properly.

“Whoa there, cowboy, cool it before you give yourself a concussion. Christ.”

Lance places a cool hand on his shoulder, concerned, bin of counted bandages left abandoned behind him. Almost immediately his face coils in disgust.

“Aw, gross, you’re sweaty.”

But he doesn’t move his hand.

Keith stares.

How did he — how did he miss it, before?

“Keith?” Lance asks again, alarm clouding his face. “You okay, buddy?”

His fingers curve absentmindedly along the junction of Keith’s neck, and he leans in closer, and he smells so fucking good and he always does and Keith is lightheaded from more than just his cross-castle sprint.

“You’re in love with me,” he blurts, and he didn’t mean to say it like that but there’s no doubt in his words.

Lance startles, yanking his hand back in shock. Keith darts out to stop it, fingers wrapped around his wrist, keeping him from going far. Lance’s breath hitches.

“…What?”

“You’re in love with me,” Keith repeats, steadier this time. He waits a moment, then says, much more urgently: “The book.”

Mortification rings off Lance in waves.

“Oh,” he croaks. His pulse is so loud and so fast that Keith can feel it in his wrist. “I didn’t think it was — oh.”

There’s a strange quality to his voice, besides the embarrassment of getting caught, and then it clicks — he’s afraid. Of rejection, of disgust, of Keith. Keith isn’t sure. But he hates that it’s there.

Faster than he can talk himself out of, he cups Lance’s face with his free hand, relishing in the sharp intake of breath, and leans in and kisses him. There’s a moment of rigid shock on Lance’s part and it could spell trouble but Keith holds steady. He keeps his hold loose and the pressure soft and soon Lance — melts, into him, there’s no other word for it; he sinks in close and sighs and the hand Keith has gripped goes slack. His lips are soft, and his hair tickles Keith’s forehead, and Keith can still feel his jackrabbit heartbeat, and he still smells like that intoxicating mix of flowers and — sunshine, somehow, straight from the brightest days in Earth. Keith’s hands have never been steadier.

“You collected my doodles,” he says, staying close when Lance pulls gently away. He can see the deeper browns in Lance’s irises, the places where the gold gives way to near-black. They look like the flecks of the precious metal Keith would see at the bottom of the river mud in the mountains of Arizona.

“They were worth keeping,” Lance says quietly. He holds Keith’s gaze. The tips of his fingers trace Keith’s temples; they’re rough with old guitar callouses.

“You think everything is worth keeping.”

“Only the things that — bleed.”

Keith thinks that they’re both right. Lance can’t leave anything behind because he aches for the soul he finds in it. He finds the worth in everything. He found the worth in Keith.

He found enough to make Keith stay.

Keith grips the book in his right hand, left still cupped around Lance’s cheek. The difference in textures is startling, grounding.

“No one has ever done something like that for me before,” Keith admits. There’s a lump in his throat but Keith thinks it’s manageable, thinks he can talk through it. Thinks he might hold the strength for it.

Lance waits patiently.

“I want to —” Keith stops. He opens the book. The drawn Lance smiles up at him, beautiful. He looks up and Lance smiles over at him, breathtaking. “I —”

He doesn’t know how to say it. It’s there, bubbling in his chest, spilling out of him; obvious. But he doesn’t know the words for it. He’s not sure anyone’s taught him before.

“Okay,” Lance says. He tugs his wrist out of Keith’s grip then laces their hands together, squeezing. His smile only widens and he — sparkles, almost. Keith’s throat goes dry.

“Okay?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Lance repeats, teasing. He leans in again. “I’m going to kiss you again, now.”

“Please,” Keith begs, and he does.

———

based on this post

[utilitycaster]

Wizard Breakdown Tracker: Echoes of the Solstice

You know it, you love it, it may return on an as-needed basis for Campaign 3 now that Allura has entered the narrative and we know the fate of Caleb, but no promises: it's the Wizard Breakdown Tracker! As a reminder, I now include PCs because I make the rules; wizard NPCs are included on the very scientific basis of "do I have something I think is kind of funny or meaningful to say" so as always, if I left someone off, it was on purpose specifically to annoy you.

Astrid Becke: well her boss is missing, Caleb has expressed concerns in private to Beau about all of the Assembly, apparently the king is bedridden and has been for some time, and I suspect news of unsealed things being unsealed gets to her quickly; even if she isn't aware of the events in Blumenthal yet, she's about to be. Also, it's the apogee solstice. 8/10; ever the opportunist, it is a good time for her to try to become head of the Assembly, but also shit's gone real sideways.

Eadwulf Grieve: lost his title of hottest mage (men's division) to one Fjord Stone during the last Nicodranas County Fair and has been sulking ever since but more importantly the temple of the Raven Queen is doing Not Great Bob as of like an hour ago so a rare Eadwulf stress moment. 7/10.

Planerider Ryn: just lost her arm...but is unaware of it, so that's probably helping. technically cannot be calculated because she is a rock but spiritually like an 8/10 and that's only because she is remarkably unflappable; she just witnessed the Malleus Key and that should drive anyone up to a 10.

Allura Vysoren: has absolutely sensed a disturbance in the force weave and I'm sure Kima's feeling some bad vibes from Bahamut right now, but rather like Ryn she actually has some degree of sangfroid, a concept unheard of in the entire continent of Wildemount. 6/10.

Yussa Errenis: have you ever dealt with like, an ER Nurse, and unless something is actually exploding or someone is actually bleeding out they're like "yeah it be like that sometimes"? After you've been sucked into the Cognouza Hivemind while trying to do your silly little arcane investigations nothing short of the Calamity will ruffle you. He's an elf; he knows this solstice is wonky but also he knows this is Someone Else's Problem. Also Jester's left him alone for a whole 24 hours? Incredible. 2/10 and that's really just because he's still a little cranky about the disappearance of his blast scepter. As always: never change, king.

Prism Grimpoppy: by my calculations she's discovering that she's actually fucking incredible in combat right now. 0/10, she's doing GREAT.

Pumat Sol and sure, fuck it, Oremid Hass: I suspect the Zadash Wizard Contingent is dealing with some wild unsealed shit from the time of the Julous Dominion and they can't get in touch with anyone in the capital, but it's probably manageable. 4/10. On edge but not too bad.

Ludinus Da'leth: oh did your little plan to unleash the god-eater go a touch sideways? were you unprepared for the possibility of fucking all of magic? did you think it was going to be easy? did level 9 "Fuck Up Airship" and level 8 "Shield Against Werewolf" fail to save your bitch ass? As we've seen, he'll scramble and recover, unfortunately, but it's a well-deserved 9/10 right now. I love to see a plan fall apart.

Trent Ikithon: OH this motherfucker has LOST IT in prison. Like...he was able to put together a pretty elaborate situation, to be clear, but also he's gone bugfuck nuts and does not really improve. I think he's already broken down from the start having clearly been planning this exact scenario from the moment of his imprisonment honestly given that he appears to be going off of the frissons he picked up from Caleb and Essek shortly before he was captured, but regardless: he definitely ends it at a 10/10. Stuck in an egg for eternity, if he's even still a separate entity from Omentis. A well-deserved fate if ever there was one. Get fucked lol.

Veth Brenatto: hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha 10/10 you know she watched Luc leap through the teleportation circle as it closed and has been shrieking loud enough to be heard at the Chateau.

Luc Brenatto: the arrogance and naivete of youth insulate him initially, but Aggy's demise probably spikes it to a solid 6 minimum and it's definitely 9 during the battle. It goes back down pretty quickly though; see Caleb's entry.

Caleb Widogast: he keeps it together pretty well, honestly! Still I have to imagine he's kind of at a 7 or so this entire time with occasional spikes to 9 (NEIN) throughout, and I wouldn't fault him for finishing up the Blumenthal Brunch and then quietly locking himself in a soundproof tower room to scream, cry, and throw up for a while. Indeed, I would encourage it; Caleb should go have a good cry and hug a magic cat for a couple hours until he feels better, and then come back down to find that everyone except the clerics but DEFINITELY including Luc has implemented Spontaneous Apogee Solstice Oktoberfest to celebrate the demise of Trent, the engagement of Fjord and Jester, and the general experience of being alive, and is varying degrees of extremely wasted. This will of course bring him back up to like 7 as he realizes he has to return a hungover teenager to Veth and then goes down to a 4 or so when he realizes the clerics can fix that and Veth will probably be so glad that Luc is alive she'll ignore the rest of it.

Essek Thelyss: Our international drow of mystery looms large in the narrative, but does not make an appearance, which makes this premise extremely funny. I assume he's feeling kind of rough given that the Dynasty wizards are well-attuned to leylines and I would imagine he picks up that Sending isn't working and was broadly aware Caleb was going into danger, so he's certainly stressed, but Trent doesn't actually seem to know Where in Exandria is Essek Thelyss and is merely threatening blackmail. Honestly while we're at it, we don't know where Essek is because I wouldn't put it past Mr. Geometer Owner to have been at a solstice nexus and to have possibly experienced his own Solstice Shunting. In fact I assume Essek is blissfully unaware of these specific goings on re: Trent and is just experiencing The Anxiety for all of the previous reasons. (1d6+3)/10.

Known Gem Wizard Hotsauce Lutefisk: Hmmm. Things becoming unsealed, you say? The uninvited guest list (The Real Gelidon, Isharnai) for The TusktoothStone-Lavorre wedding may have gained an extra entry.

[essektheylyss]

Honestly, the implication with the Sendings that there is something wrong with the leylines and the weave of magic in Exandria is so funny to me. There is a non-zero chance, not even a low chance, that Ludinus is pissed because he got tossed to some random point in Exandria, and now he has to walk places. And maybe get on a ship. God forbid.*

But this also has a lot of other implications. The leylines tend to be associated with both intra- and interdimensional travel, as well as things like Scrying, Sending of course, and possibly other methods of divination.

It is also possible that, given what we know about dunamis, that dunamancy is also tied to the leylines or the weave in some way.

We know that divine magic is at least working—but we only know this to be true of divine magic granted by a god of the Pantheon.

So, with all of that in mind, a HIGHLY incomplete sample of things that may or may not be happening across Exandria while the Hells A-Team is traveling to Uthodurn:

Yussa is torn between gratitude for being free from the menace of Caleb Widogast teleporting into his house and Jester Lavorre sending him messages at all hours, and irritation that he can't get any of his work done because it all has to do with planar magic.

Any gratitude wears off when Fjord and Jester come banging on his door because Jester cannot send any messages nor contact Artagan, who is bound by the rules of the planes and by extension the leylines (since he can, unlike the gods, pass mostly freely from plane to plane).

Fjord's magic is completely fine because he is operating on sheer force of will and obeys no laws known to mortals, physics, or nature. Essek, who was holed up in the Lavorres' spare room for the week, is absolutely pissed because half of his magic is broken (and also he has no idea where his partner is).

Caleb and Beau take like seven hours to get the collar off before discovering that they are stuck somewhere in the Issylran tundra. (They would probably get fined by the Slayer's Take for the number of bounties they take out their rage on, if the Slayer's Take had ANY idea who the fuck they were.)

Caduceus is cheerfully gardening and has no idea this has happened. Melora decides not to bother him. Let him live in bliss, unlike the rest of Exandria.

Dorian has been having a meltdown into his Sending stone while Opal and Dariax run rampant and Cyrus looks very pretty but does absolutely nothing. It has no effect.

Keyleth is sitting in a daze somewhere next to a tree that will not open wondering if the last thirty-six hours were a fever dream.

The city of Syngorn saw the moon nonsense, panicked, tried to hop to the Feywild, then panicked harder. Fortunately, they could not contact anyone, and Allura Vysoren did not have to hear about it.

Ludinus has murdered several people. It has gotten him no closer to leaving whatever random part of the Tal'dorei countryside he is menacing.

Somewhere, there is a bird. That bird saw this beam, looked down into a very old, very precious orb, and said, "Not this fucking shit again."

All in all, very funny couple of days Exandria is happening. I'm sure things will not get any worse.

*I know he traveled by ship to the peace talks, okay, but that was for appearances. He didn't have shit to be doing at the time.