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“Dear diary. I had a smoking hot date today. Sparks flying everywhere! I swear, we had some real chemistry, you could almost smell it in the air. It wasn’t all sunshine and daisies though. She really knew how to grind gears at times, but I got the sense she was pretty reliable. At least, until the end of the date. She promised to bring me home, but when it came down to it… She fell short. Ahh, well. I guess that’s just my luck. That’s all for now, Tahtah!”
The internal monologue of one Malloki Tuwile was spoken to no one in particular. It was a means of catharsis to the stitched up puddle of thoughts one could vaguely call a mind.
All around the man, hell had broken loose. He sat in the pilot seat of a small interplanetary vessel. The hulking mass of metal was little more than a ball with numerous gears inside and out, twisting in a myriad dance of clockwork engineering. One massive thruster puttered at the rear and a small window allowed the pilot to see the planet rushing upwards to greet him behind a wall of red-hot air friction.
The smell of fuel and byproduct burned at Malloki’s nostrils, as gears ground and sparked when their neighbors failed to turn them. Slamming into Opealon’s atmosphere had set into motion a chain of events, and with Malloki’s ‘hit it with a hammer’ tendency to fix the box of bolts, the situation had only grown worse.
He had been on the run for so long; visited quite a few different planets on this old rusty piece of junk, and maybe even broken a few hearts along the way. All that would come to an end soon in one final spine-tingling crash. If he had to go out, it might as well be in a fiery---
“Dear diary! Followup. She came back for me! She really does care, how sweet!”
With a heavy grunt, the man fought the G-forces to reach out and grab a lever just below the newly flashing red light. Right beside said light had the worn picture of a parachute. In hindsight, he probably should have taken note of that earlier.
CLANG! “I don’t think there will be a second date. I hear she’s going through a terrible breakup.” The sight of one of the front heat-ablating panels flying over his windshield was a bit worrying, considering he could feel the far-less protective flooring beneath his bare toes grow hotter and hotter. Reentry was shredding this poor machine to bits.
His fingers twitched on the lever. Too soon and the speed and friction would burn away his chute and probably him in the process. Too late, and well… Splat. Of course, that left him with plenty of time to ---
“Dear diary. Fuck.” Far earlier than he desired, he yanked on the lever. He had heard of this world’s lush oceans and beautiful floating islands. What he did not expect was the islands to be floating in the damn SKY!
The series of explosions that blew away the top of the small vessel was startling, but not nearly as much as the following rush of wind and heat that entered when the panel vanished into the distance. The depressurizing cabin and heat subsequently were less scary than the explosion beneath his seat that shot him out right after the lost panel.
That, in turn, was nothing compared to the hard clicking at the back of his seat. The smaller mass of him plus the chair meant the air friction quickly decelerated his descent. For only a few seconds did he experience the pressurized air burning at his flesh. Not quite as scary as plummeting towards a floating island while being unable to take a breath and hearing the ominous clicking of a rickety old chute trying to deploy.
Click.
Click.
Click….
That’s not good. When the clicking stopped, he could only assume the chute had failed.
The charred man had already healed from the wind burns, but he had no doubt impact would leave him more as fingerpaint across the sky-land. So he did what any sane man would do. His hands fought the torrent of air to unzip his trousers to see what would happen if you pissed during freefall. Answer; a mess.
FWOOSHHH
And suddenly he regretting the decision to drop-trou at terminal velocity. The man was, for lack of a better term, pissed on rather than pissed off. There was sage wisdom in that turn of phrase because he would have much rather been mad than used the near-death experiment to test water physics.
ThuCRUNCH!
The landing was not soft in the slightest. Given time, it would have been as soft as a feather’s fall. With time was not available, Malloki’s chair landed, tipped violently forward, and slammed his unprotected face into the dirt to skid several feet. His nose, jaw, left eye socket and several vertebrae cracked under the impact.
“Kekekekeke…” The raspy giggle came with a bubble of blood and dirt. The pain left him momentarily immobilized as if he had just lost a tickle fight. One that also may have left both arms out of their sockets. While his healing factor was nice, it was not that nice.
“Dear diary. I thought I was the one doing the dumping… but that clever girl may have dumped me instead. I feel like a broken man. Maybe I should have stayed with her. Sounds like she’s--”
KSH-BOOM! “Nevermind, she sounds like a total wreck.”
A sickening crunch announced the tickling numbness of his left shoulder had been dislocated upon impact. The slightly delayed, but near-instant means of healing made the unknown problem an idle thought of the past, as it was quickly popped back into the socket. “Kekeke!” Of course, the blinding pain brought out a maddened giggle from the living voodoo doll.
His right arm was still numb, but he imagined it was more his weight pressed on it than anything. The reinforced pilot chair had the masochist pinned heavily to the blood-stained dirt beneath him. The struggle to unbuckle himself one-handed was real, but the effort it took to roll over with that seat atop him was an effort and a half. Such a pain. Usually, a fan of pain as of late, this turn of phrase was a pain Malloki could not laugh off. Hard work.
When the chair finally thumped to the ground, the rotational force yanked Malloki on top of it as it continued to roll onto its back and then fling to an upright position. With the center of mass once again under his rear, the jostled Malloki let out a sigh of relief.
Wait.
“FUCK.” From the seated position, the island hovering not too far off and just below his current location came into view. The man looked to the rest of the island behind him to confirm. “FUCK!” he echoed.
He had apparently landed on an expansive island covered by wheat and various other crops. On the other island? A damn village.
The internal monologue of one Malloki Tuwile was spoken to no one in particular. It was a means of catharsis to the stitched up puddle of thoughts one could vaguely call a mind.
All around the man, hell had broken loose. He sat in the pilot seat of a small interplanetary vessel. The hulking mass of metal was little more than a ball with numerous gears inside and out, twisting in a myriad dance of clockwork engineering. One massive thruster puttered at the rear and a small window allowed the pilot to see the planet rushing upwards to greet him behind a wall of red-hot air friction.
The smell of fuel and byproduct burned at Malloki’s nostrils, as gears ground and sparked when their neighbors failed to turn them. Slamming into Opealon’s atmosphere had set into motion a chain of events, and with Malloki’s ‘hit it with a hammer’ tendency to fix the box of bolts, the situation had only grown worse.
He had been on the run for so long; visited quite a few different planets on this old rusty piece of junk, and maybe even broken a few hearts along the way. All that would come to an end soon in one final spine-tingling crash. If he had to go out, it might as well be in a fiery---
“Dear diary! Followup. She came back for me! She really does care, how sweet!”
With a heavy grunt, the man fought the G-forces to reach out and grab a lever just below the newly flashing red light. Right beside said light had the worn picture of a parachute. In hindsight, he probably should have taken note of that earlier.
CLANG! “I don’t think there will be a second date. I hear she’s going through a terrible breakup.” The sight of one of the front heat-ablating panels flying over his windshield was a bit worrying, considering he could feel the far-less protective flooring beneath his bare toes grow hotter and hotter. Reentry was shredding this poor machine to bits.
His fingers twitched on the lever. Too soon and the speed and friction would burn away his chute and probably him in the process. Too late, and well… Splat. Of course, that left him with plenty of time to ---
“Dear diary. Fuck.” Far earlier than he desired, he yanked on the lever. He had heard of this world’s lush oceans and beautiful floating islands. What he did not expect was the islands to be floating in the damn SKY!
The series of explosions that blew away the top of the small vessel was startling, but not nearly as much as the following rush of wind and heat that entered when the panel vanished into the distance. The depressurizing cabin and heat subsequently were less scary than the explosion beneath his seat that shot him out right after the lost panel.
That, in turn, was nothing compared to the hard clicking at the back of his seat. The smaller mass of him plus the chair meant the air friction quickly decelerated his descent. For only a few seconds did he experience the pressurized air burning at his flesh. Not quite as scary as plummeting towards a floating island while being unable to take a breath and hearing the ominous clicking of a rickety old chute trying to deploy.
Click.
Click.
Click….
That’s not good. When the clicking stopped, he could only assume the chute had failed.
The charred man had already healed from the wind burns, but he had no doubt impact would leave him more as fingerpaint across the sky-land. So he did what any sane man would do. His hands fought the torrent of air to unzip his trousers to see what would happen if you pissed during freefall. Answer; a mess.
FWOOSHHH
And suddenly he regretting the decision to drop-trou at terminal velocity. The man was, for lack of a better term, pissed on rather than pissed off. There was sage wisdom in that turn of phrase because he would have much rather been mad than used the near-death experiment to test water physics.
ThuCRUNCH!
The landing was not soft in the slightest. Given time, it would have been as soft as a feather’s fall. With time was not available, Malloki’s chair landed, tipped violently forward, and slammed his unprotected face into the dirt to skid several feet. His nose, jaw, left eye socket and several vertebrae cracked under the impact.
“Kekekekeke…” The raspy giggle came with a bubble of blood and dirt. The pain left him momentarily immobilized as if he had just lost a tickle fight. One that also may have left both arms out of their sockets. While his healing factor was nice, it was not that nice.
“Dear diary. I thought I was the one doing the dumping… but that clever girl may have dumped me instead. I feel like a broken man. Maybe I should have stayed with her. Sounds like she’s--”
KSH-BOOM! “Nevermind, she sounds like a total wreck.”
A sickening crunch announced the tickling numbness of his left shoulder had been dislocated upon impact. The slightly delayed, but near-instant means of healing made the unknown problem an idle thought of the past, as it was quickly popped back into the socket. “Kekeke!” Of course, the blinding pain brought out a maddened giggle from the living voodoo doll.
His right arm was still numb, but he imagined it was more his weight pressed on it than anything. The reinforced pilot chair had the masochist pinned heavily to the blood-stained dirt beneath him. The struggle to unbuckle himself one-handed was real, but the effort it took to roll over with that seat atop him was an effort and a half. Such a pain. Usually, a fan of pain as of late, this turn of phrase was a pain Malloki could not laugh off. Hard work.
When the chair finally thumped to the ground, the rotational force yanked Malloki on top of it as it continued to roll onto its back and then fling to an upright position. With the center of mass once again under his rear, the jostled Malloki let out a sigh of relief.
Wait.
“FUCK.” From the seated position, the island hovering not too far off and just below his current location came into view. The man looked to the rest of the island behind him to confirm. “FUCK!” he echoed.
He had apparently landed on an expansive island covered by wheat and various other crops. On the other island? A damn village.
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