#desertkeithweek

I usually don’t post sketches but eh.

Day 1 of @desertkeithweek: Provisions

@desertkeithweek has started and it was supposed to be my time to shine but guess who forgot whoops ? 

Flash forward several years, and Keith’s out at the shack again and running out of money for supplies. The water thing isn’t too much of a problem, but he hasn’t got proper access to food and what little he has is rationed as much as he can. He’s not 18, not old enough to access the funds set aside for him, and it’s not like he can go crawling back to the Garrison after taking out Iverson’s eye. 

And then: he remembers. His dad’s old stock. He digs it up, and lo and behold, there’s enough there to last him until his birthday, or nourish him enough that he could go out looking for more. 

Day Three: Climate

Past and Future

Keith had thought he was ready, but now, lifting the heavy tarp away, he realized he wasn’t. Maybe he never would be.

It had been nearly a month since the world had received its last bit of news of the Kerberos crew. Nearly a month since the words “pilot error” had been carved into Keith’s mind, nearly a month since Keith had punched Iverson and ditched the Garrison.

Nearly a month since he’d last ridden the hoverbike, or even had the courage to look at it.

Shiro’s hoverbike, initially. The one he’d given to Keith to learn with, then to take care of while Shiro was up in outer space. Keith had ridden it a couple times since Shiro had left, but he hadn’t touched it since the Garrison’s announcement. It had remained in storage, until now.

Keith had avoided riding the hoverbike as long as possible, and although he didn’t necessarily want to, he needed to. The shack was low on provisions, and he had to go to the next town over to get some supplies. He couldn’t walk there, get what he needed, and carry it all back. He had to take the hoverbike.

Steeling himself, Keith climbed on and started the engine. The familiar purr made his heart ache. Driving the hoverbike seemed impossible without the man sitting astride him. Keith didn’t know if he really believed that Shiro was dead. He had faith in the man, faith in his skill, and knew that if the Kerberos crew were dead, it wasn’t because of any ‘pilot error’. Regardless, he hadn’t been able to get any more information out of Iverson, so it was all he had to go off of. A part of him knew that Shiro was still out there somewhere, but another part of him mourned the man nonetheless.

Riding with Shiro had been the absolute best feeling Keith had ever known. The adrenaline rush wasn’t anything compared to the way Keith felt with Shiro at his back, his laughter drowned out by the wind as Keith pushed the bike to its limits, kicking up dust in their wake. More than once, Keith and Shiro had outrun the Garrison’s perimeter patrol Jeeps to sneak off after curfew and take the bike for a spin, or even just to park it somewhere and stargaze. In fact, they’d done it quite often, often enough that Keith was amazed they never got in trouble.

It had given Keith something to look forward to day in and day out, though, other than the seemingly impossible promise of exploring the endless expanse of space.

With Shiro missing from the picture, riding the hoverbike lost most of its appeal. His trip into town was short, uneventful, and so was the ride back.

But after he’d dropped off his things and drove back to the storage shed, it didn’t feel right to put the bike away just yet. He’d barely driven it enough to warm it up. Shiro had entrusted the bike to him because he knew Keith would take care of it, and although it wouldn’t gather dust or start rusting in the shed, Keith knew that in order to keep it running right, he had to put the bike through its paces regularly.

With a sigh, Keith turned the bike around.

He didn’t stop to let himself think. He just revved the engine, punched the gas, and drove.

Flying through the desert at such high speeds was still as exhilarating as it had been the first time Keith had done it. He’d never tire of the thrill of it, even missing Shiro as he was, and it wasn’t long before Keith found himself grinning into the wind, taking every sharp turn and steep drop-off the canyons offered, not caring where exactly he went, just moving on instinct alone. He knew this place like the back of his own hand, and he had missed it nearly as much as he missed Shiro.

Piloting had become as integral to his life as Shiro had, and losing Shiro had been devastating. Keith hadn’t realized until now that, although it was bittersweet, he couldn’t lose piloting too. He hadn’t wanted to stick around at the Garrison, where Iverson lied to his face and everyone pretended everything was okay, but he could still do this. He could still drive the hoverbike.

For Shiro.

It’s eleven more months before Keith feels it again: that heart-pounding, gut-wrenching exhilaration of driving the hoverbike with Shiro riding alongside him. Shiro’s unconscious this time, held up by the shortest of three Garrison cadets who Keith hardly recognizes, but it’s Shiro. It’s Shiro, alive and, if Keith can outrun the Garrison’s Jeeps one more time, safe. He can already tell that Shiro isn’t the same, but there’s enough left of the man that boarded that shuttle for Keith’s pulse to pound in his ears and his breath to rattle in his chest every time he stops to look at him. It’s Shiro, and Keith is whole again.

They had to leave Earth rather suddenly, but Keith thanks the stars that he remembered to put the hoverbike away properly before they had left. It hasn’t rusted at all in the time they’ve gone, but the engine sputters a bit when he turns the ignition. A few more tries and it flares to life.

They’re not the same people they were when they left. They’ve changed so much in just one of Earth’s rotations around its Sun, but the hoverbike is the same. If the bike were sentient, it would not recognize the men that now sit astride it. They hardly recognize themselves, but they are confident in the presence of each other.

Shiro wraps his arm around Keith’s waist, and Keith punches the gas.

“Oh hi there little fella, where did you come fr-- dude, wtf?” o_o

For @desertkeithweek day two: wildlife.