crossmyheartandhope (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
crossmyheartandhope) wrote2021-10-22 03:01 pm
crossmyheartandhope) wrote2021-10-22 03:01 pm
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Memory 31: Static
When he opens his eyes, the world is upside-down.
The city is laid out far below him, a perfect miniature, and down there in the streets, something's on fire. There are still people running for cover, but from this height they look no bigger than ants.
Hurricane licks at his lips – tastes blood.
"Pull it together," he mutters to himself, even though he's not sure what he's meant to be pulling it together from. He remembers deploying to Nagasaki. He remembers the trip out, and Nemesis next to him in the back of the supply truck, stealing his Pretz right out of the box. He remembers suiting up in an unfamiliar hangar, Yoshioka's habitual presence nothing but a voice on a radio, this time.
And then… nothing. He doesn't remember anything at all until just now, when he opened his eyes.
Probably a concussion, if the throbbing in his head is any indication.
"Hey, guys?" he says, into the comms.
There's no response – just a harsh burst of feedback and then static.
Hurricane licks at his lips again, and braces his hands, and tries to maneuver himself upright.
It shouldn't be hard, in theory. He's encased in a metal suit that wraps him like a second skin, and that metal suit has mag-lev tech. But when he tries to lift off, he twists to one side a little and doesn't go anywhere, and the pain that shoots up his left leg is excruciating.
He screams, loud enough that he's glad the comms are out – twists and struggles, tries to free himself.
Whatever's holding him won't budge.
He pushes against the surface beneath him, to give himself leverage – peers up, and up, into twenty watching eyes, round and beetle-like, set in a creature with skin like an oil slick. It has teeth as big as his whole hand, and those teeth are sunk into both of his legs, and he has never been more grateful the right one is fake before this very moment.
Hurricane sucks in a breath and twists – kicks to try and get free.
Nothing: the teeth bite down harder, and Hurricane forces down a whimper.
In theory, he should probably take stock of the situation – take into account the fact that he's got to be twenty floors up, hanging from the side of an apartment building and getting eaten by an eldritch horror.
In practice, he just fights harder.
He hears something crack – his suit, maybe, or one of the creature's teeth. But suddenly, just like that, he feels its grip loosen and he's free.
He crows triumph for all of two seconds, right up until he realizes he's in freefall – kicks on the mag-lev tech and propels himself up, only up kind of ends up sideways, because one of his boosters doesn't seem to be doing so hot. He hits the wall, hard enough to feel like there are explosives going off in his head, or maybe that's the actual explosives, because when he opens his eyes again, Nemesis is somewhere nearby, pulling aggro.
"Thanks," he says, into the comms, and gets more static in reply.
His head feels kind of like a cracked egg, and his suit's had better days, but he manages to set himself down on the balcony with someone's not-so-clean-now laundry, putting all his weight on the right leg. He pops the armor plating on his suit's arm – stares at the wiring for entirely too long, while his head struggles to clear itself.
His fingers are shaky and a little unsteady, but when he presses the plate closed again and tests the mag lev, both sides kick in this time.
"Sweet," he says, into the comms. "Think we're back in business."
There's no answer, of course, but he figures Nemesis's got a good enough idea when he jets away from the building to throw himself back into the fight beside her.
The city is laid out far below him, a perfect miniature, and down there in the streets, something's on fire. There are still people running for cover, but from this height they look no bigger than ants.
Hurricane licks at his lips – tastes blood.
"Pull it together," he mutters to himself, even though he's not sure what he's meant to be pulling it together from. He remembers deploying to Nagasaki. He remembers the trip out, and Nemesis next to him in the back of the supply truck, stealing his Pretz right out of the box. He remembers suiting up in an unfamiliar hangar, Yoshioka's habitual presence nothing but a voice on a radio, this time.
And then… nothing. He doesn't remember anything at all until just now, when he opened his eyes.
Probably a concussion, if the throbbing in his head is any indication.
"Hey, guys?" he says, into the comms.
There's no response – just a harsh burst of feedback and then static.
Hurricane licks at his lips again, and braces his hands, and tries to maneuver himself upright.
It shouldn't be hard, in theory. He's encased in a metal suit that wraps him like a second skin, and that metal suit has mag-lev tech. But when he tries to lift off, he twists to one side a little and doesn't go anywhere, and the pain that shoots up his left leg is excruciating.
He screams, loud enough that he's glad the comms are out – twists and struggles, tries to free himself.
Whatever's holding him won't budge.
He pushes against the surface beneath him, to give himself leverage – peers up, and up, into twenty watching eyes, round and beetle-like, set in a creature with skin like an oil slick. It has teeth as big as his whole hand, and those teeth are sunk into both of his legs, and he has never been more grateful the right one is fake before this very moment.
Hurricane sucks in a breath and twists – kicks to try and get free.
Nothing: the teeth bite down harder, and Hurricane forces down a whimper.
In theory, he should probably take stock of the situation – take into account the fact that he's got to be twenty floors up, hanging from the side of an apartment building and getting eaten by an eldritch horror.
In practice, he just fights harder.
He hears something crack – his suit, maybe, or one of the creature's teeth. But suddenly, just like that, he feels its grip loosen and he's free.
He crows triumph for all of two seconds, right up until he realizes he's in freefall – kicks on the mag-lev tech and propels himself up, only up kind of ends up sideways, because one of his boosters doesn't seem to be doing so hot. He hits the wall, hard enough to feel like there are explosives going off in his head, or maybe that's the actual explosives, because when he opens his eyes again, Nemesis is somewhere nearby, pulling aggro.
"Thanks," he says, into the comms, and gets more static in reply.
His head feels kind of like a cracked egg, and his suit's had better days, but he manages to set himself down on the balcony with someone's not-so-clean-now laundry, putting all his weight on the right leg. He pops the armor plating on his suit's arm – stares at the wiring for entirely too long, while his head struggles to clear itself.
His fingers are shaky and a little unsteady, but when he presses the plate closed again and tests the mag lev, both sides kick in this time.
"Sweet," he says, into the comms. "Think we're back in business."
There's no answer, of course, but he figures Nemesis's got a good enough idea when he jets away from the building to throw himself back into the fight beside her.