#collab writes

collab rambles: textposts

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collab writes: writing

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collab ocs: original content

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faq: frequently asked questions

Hitoshi Hidaka awakens with lungs full of smoke, limbs full of pain, and ears full of alarm bells.

He tries to crack open his eyes and instantly regrets it- slapping a hand over them as flashing red warning lights pierce directly through them and into his brain. His agonized groan trails off into a cough partway through.

Not a great way to wake up, he thinks.

He needs to figure out where he is and what's going on. He's slumped forward over a hard surface, misshapen objects digging into his torso through his clothes.

Dashboard. Right. He was flying. Which means... he probably crashed. That would explain the smoke and alarms.

He attempts a second time to open his eyes, squinting through the haze and light and the film of his own tears. The acrid air stings. He needs his helmet.

He forces himself to his feet, only for his legs to nearly buckle underneath him as his entire body protests the movement. His hands scrabble at the dashboard he was slung over moments ago, seeking support for his knocking knees. He's not strong enough to keep himself upright, and goes crashing to the floor with an unpleasant jolt.

The alarm continues to flash and shriek. The smoke refuses to dissipate. Safe in the knowledge he's at least alone, Hitoshi allows himself one frustrated, childish whine.

He fumbles for the seat to try and pull himself up again. His hand only meets a metal pole and dangling wires. Ejected- without him. Some safety measures.

Still, it's enough support to put him on his hands and knees. He cracks his eyes open a third time, just long enough to figure out where his locker is. At least that's in one piece. He shuffles towards it like a dog, cringing to himself at the sheer lack of dignity.

The suit's tough to put on at the best of times. He's always hated zippers. But in these current conditions, it's nearly impossible to fit into, fabric chafing at his sore limbs and refusing to let him squirm into it properly. He considers just giving up and letting himself choke. It's a damn miracle he manages to get his helmet and pack on.

But it's rewarding. Cool, fresh air fills his helmet, and he takes grateful gulps of it, swearing to himself once more never to take breathing for granted.

He's alive, guaranteed for the next short while. He'd better assess the full extent of the damage, both to himself and his ship, once he can actually get up.

He's not sure how long he lays there, cringing as the alarms continue to beep at him even through his helmet. His ears folding down can only do so much. Eventually it's too much to bear, so he attempts a third time to stand.

He manages to keep his feet under him this time, with fresh air in his lungs and a moment to rest. But his knees and back, poor at even the best of times, twinge with every step. He's forced to stand as he examines the console, and regards the ejected seat with newfound disappointment as he does.

It takes a moment to remember how to turn off the alarm. Blissful silence fills the cockpit after he presses the button, and it's all he can do not to slump in relief.

But it's not silent, it turns out. Even with ringing ears, he can make out the hiss and creak of damaged machinery all around him. He shouldn't stay in here. Once he runs diagnostics, he needs to get out.

He can't help but feel a pang of regret. Ten years he's flown this ship, and he's gone and totaled it over...

...he can't actually remember what he did. Just that he was on a delivery run, and...

He can worry about that later. Trembling hands work the dashboard, clumsy through gloves and pain. He squints as the cracked display lights up.

"Okay, girl," he breathes. "Let's see what I did to you."

The computer renders for a moment as it runs diagnostics.

MAIN ENGINE - MISSING

Hito blinks.

"Wh... missing?"

Missing is very, very different from damaged. How is he meant to repair the engine if he doesn't have anything to repair--?

POSITRON GENERATOR - MISSING

Okay. It's- it's fine. He'll just find the parts, they can't have fallen far--

FUEL DYNAMO - MISSING

#1 IONIUM JET - MISSING

#2 IONIUM JET - MISSING

It's only a few--

ZIRCONIUM MOTOR - MISSING

SHOCK ABSORBER - MISSING

CHRONOS REACTOR - MISSING

Maybe he can call for help--

INTERSTELLAR RADIO - MISSING

ANALOG COMPUTER - MISSING

GEIGER COUNTER - MISSING

Just wait it out until he's found--

ANTI DIOXIN FILTER - MISSING

RADIATION CANOPY - MISSING

GUARD SATELLITE - MISSING

As the list grows and grows, Hito's breathing picks up. His heart pounds in his chest. He's stranded somewhere unfamiliar, with his ship in pieces and only so much battery in his filter pack. It doesn't matter that he survived the crash with minimal injuries- he's going to die here, isn't he?

DANDELION RESIN - MISSING

Something cold reaches into his chest and pulls.

He thinks, the ship kept track of that?