blessed and bleak; (Laissez Outlands)

Using the clouds as cover seemed to be working; the whir of helicopter blades quickly faded into the distance. The water condensing all over his body couldn’t be good for his mechanical tails, but there wasn’t a lot Nine could do about that right now. He just had to hope that the waterproof layer he had painted over them when he’d made them held up even when they weren’t working. He spun his organic tails as fast as he could, pushing against the burn in his lungs and the ache at the base of his spine. It felt good, to hurt – to feel his breath ripped from his throat. It felt like an apt punishment and gave him something to focus on instead of wondering what was happening to the friend he had left behind.

The clouds covered his retreat, but they also blinded him. Through the whiteout, all he could see was the darkness which occasionally crept in from the edges when his felt light. Whenever this happened, Nine would slow his rotating tails enough to gasp some air back down, then speed up again when the darkness receded. By the time the cloud coverage was patchy enough to start to be able to see the ground, he’d been forced to slow permanently and the darkness wasn’t receding so much.

Were the clouds getting patchier, or was he dropping altitude? Nine slowed his tails further and squinted below at the swirly mix of grey and green. He was going to have to land. He needed to hide out somewhere, maybe take a quick nap, and then he needed to find a workshop. These humans clearly had reasonably decent technology, so they had to have places where they repaired that technology.

His landing was bumpier than he would have liked. He managed to miss the road and smushed chest-first into the grassy verge instead. His head spinning, Nine pushed himself to his feet and tried to take stock. The view swimming into focus was… a neighbourhood? They were boxy houses with neat window boxes and tidy driveways. Nine staggered further along the verge, squinting. A lot of these houses had vehicles outside them, and where there were vehicles… maybe if he followed this road…?

He tried to step onto the road, but missed his footing and fell forward, scraping his knees. Nine huffed and grunted under his breath, pushing himself back up. He balled his hands into fists and pushed forward, one foot in front of the other, his seven mechanical tails making a painful scraping sound as they dragged on the tarmac behind him. He wouldn’t make it far like this.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to. One of the box-houses had an empty driveway leading up to an open-doored building lined with… Nine squinted… yes! Toolboxes and benches, and a stack of tyres! There was one human present that he could see from here, crouched over small transportation device which could have been some kind of bike or hovercraft. It was hard to see with the edge of his vision swimming. Of course, Nine had no way of knowing if he’d come far enough or in the right direction to make it to somewhere friendlier, or if he was still in the place where they were hostile towards aliens. He could hide somewhere nearby, pass out, wait for the coast to be clear and then come back and steal some tools? Maybe he was starting to hallucinate, but a vision of Sonic pulling a face swam in front of him.

‘Just go ask for help, little buddy!’ He said. Would say. If he was here. Which he wasn’t.

Stupid hedgehog, Nine thought.

He stumbled across the road to the end of the driveway. His mechanical tails seemed to be getting heavier with every step.

“Hey!” He called out, his voice croaking a little. He held his gloved hands out to show they were empty and wondered what Sonic would say next. “Uhh. I come in peace?”