Connection
Apr. 18th, 2016 04:27 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
esp_dragonFandom: Storm Hawks
Summary: The Condor is Stork's home and safety. On a routine check after a mission, Stork realises something else about her.
Notes: So this ended up being way longer and went in a different direction than I expected.
I'm still in the middle of rewatching so I might have a couple details off.
Rating: G
Genre: Friendship
Word count: 2,462
Status: Complete
Stork didn't stop trembling as he dashed up the Condor's ramp, his toes gripping the metal as he propelled himself up.
That - that hadn't been a fun mission. But then again, what mission ever was? This one had involved following Cyclonians to find out what their latest plan was.
Until Dark Ace showed up and recognised who they were, of course.
Stork shuddered.
But he inhaled as he entered the Condor, breathing in the distinct smell that was hers alone (they'd tried to scrub it out once, but the smell lingered no matter if they used soap and a brush, or crystals) and he started to relax just from that.
It wouldn't be quite enough though, so he went straight for the bridge, each step looser as he recognised familiar surroundings.
He exhaled once he reached the bridge, everything still in place and where he left it. He walked over to the ship's wheel and slid his hands around the handles, his fingertips finding the familiar grooves his nails had left in the leather when he had gripped it too tight trying to get them away from death chasing their tail.
Safety. Protection. Home.
That was what the Condor was to him and more, and the bridge was the safest part of her, where he was in control. If he was attacked here, he could fly away, and if the intruders got into the Condor, all it took was one lever pull and they were gone.
But that didn't stop Stork's ears from twitching at the metal groaning behind him. Too close to be the rest of the Storm Hawks, and too concentrated as well, not like their footsteps as they walked (or ran) down the corridors.
Stork knew the Condor, what made her strain, just how far he could push her, but there were times were he wasn't sure if there was something else there, the hair at the back of his neck raising at times, just before he heard a rumble that wasn't part of her usual workings.
He'd checked for metal biters of course -tiny stowaways that could end up eating a ship whole if they weren't contained fast enough- but he'd found no trace and most other things that sounded like...that tended to be bigger. Much bigger.
They would have been dead already if it was the other possibilities.
Unless whatever it was was biding its time, gathering its strength to swallow them all in one bite-!
The perimeter alarm hadn't been tripped, but he would double check everything. Just in case.
* * *
Stork screamed as he swerved out the way of the terra, grunting as he pulled the steering wheel.
They weren't going to make it.
"Come on, come on," he begged through clenched teeth, arms trembling with the strain, even though he knew it was useless. The Condor didn't have enough power to get out of the way.
All he'd done was make sure she impaled herself faster. At least that way they had a much larger chance of exploding.
That was better than falling to the wastelands and seeing exactly what was going to eat him before chomp.
Stork eyes widened instead as he felt the Condor kick, his arms tensing even more as she jerked and clear the terra.
His ears flattened and he winced at the dull shriek as the terra scratched her hull on the way up, but it was just a scratch. That was fixable.
Then his ears were filled with the Storm Hawks' cheering as they reached the safety above the clouds again.
Stork was sure he could feel the night worms' grinding teeth missing the Condor by a hair.
"Good job, Stork!" he heard Piper say and he had enough time to brace himself for her hug. "I thought we were goners for sure there!"
"I-" They should have been. Engine Crystals didn't do that — they had a continuous output and nothing changed that. Even a Velocity Crystal just meant they went faster, nothing else. He had already been gunning them as hard as they could; that should have been it.
The Condor groaned again and he peered through the periscope, partially to know what was behind them but also to keep himself upright, his legs not quite holding his weight. He saw the night worms dive back below the cloud line, their tails leaving a swirling trail behind them.
Stork continued to scan the skies for any movement, but that seemed to be it.
They'd…made it. Survived. But now they had to check on all the damages so they wouldn't fall straight back into the wastelands.
* * *
"How's she looking, Stork?" Aerrow asked, hopping up next to Stork as he inspected the damage across her hull.
"Mmm, fine, mostly," Stork said, rubbing his left shoulder. Another rash? "No breaches and nothing's nested itself into the cracks." No trace of orange and yellow spotted fungus anyway. That took a couple of days before it could be seen though; Stork had sprayed the area down, just in case.
"And you?"
Stork glanced at Aerrow through the corner of his eyes. That was what Aerrow always seemed to do with everyone, checking in on them at least once a day. "Aside from the upset stomach? I have a new rash," Stork said, pressing his fingertips into his shoulder. There hadn't been any symptoms or evidence of one, but Stork could feel it there, like it was under his skin, mocking him and his eyes. Even when he took off his uniform he could still feel it and scratching didn't help (the upside was it wasn't getting worse).
"It would be a bad idea to pat you there, huh?" Aerrow asked, one corner of his mouth curled up.
"Yeah." Stork glanced back at the Condor and he got a light pat on the back as Aerrow left, just above the Storm Hawk logo.
Was that another-? Stork squinted for a second at the hull before he leaped up, his fingers and toes able to grab enough purchase to let him propel himself up further.
Aha-! Mmhm, he'd been right: Stork inspected the network of gouges along her hull. That must have been where the night worms had first attached. There were long scores in the metal, twisted inwards.
Stork peered into the holes but couldn't see any movement. Night worms didn't like being above the cloud layer, and the hole was too small for them to have fit through.
He dropped a pebble he kept in his pocket for distractions into a hole anyway and kept his ears pricked as it bounced into the darkness, but he didn't hear any other movement.
Good. Nothing inside (yet). Now he just had to close it up before something did slither inside. He wouldn't be able to smoothen it out himself.
He knew someone who would though.
* * *
"Are these the ones?" Junko asked, patting the breech, and Stork nodded, rubbing his shoulder.
"That's the only ones I could find so far." He'd looked around while waiting for Junko, but that seemed to be it.
"Got it!" Junko grunted as he activated his energy knuckle dusters and peeled the metal back until the edges lined up with each other again. "How's that?"
"That's-" Stork blinked, digging his fingers into his shoulder again. "Fine?" What? It felt as if his rash had disappeared like it never been there in the first place.
Junko smiled, deactivating his knuckle dusters. "Great! If ya need anything else, just tell me."
"Y-yeah, sure," Stork said, staring at the hull, trying to keep his breathing steady. The hole was on the left side of the Condor and if she'd had a humanoid body, that wound would have rested...on her left shoulder. Where his rash had been. Where it had disappeared as soon as Junko had fixed the metal.
"Hey, Stork?" Junko frowned, leaning in to peer at him. "You okay, buddy?"
Stork scrambled back a step. "Fine! Just fine!" No, he wasn't. "There's something I need to check."
Something he had to check right away.
He fled, hearing Junko call out after him.
* * *
Stork poked his room into Piper's room. "Hey, uhm, Piper?" He shifted his weight from foot to foot, swallowing. His heart was both somewhere in his stomach and sending blood roaring into his head, dizzying him.
She looked up from the crystal she was working on, lifting her googles. "Hey, Stork, what's up?"
"Oh, lots of things." A lot of things. "Can I borrow your squadron log? It's sort of...important." Very.
"Sure!" She walked over to her desk and Stork followed her, his hand not leaving his shoulder. Maybe the rash would come back if he let go. Maybe his arm would fall off. "I know you won't make any comments or draw all over it."
He couldn't stop his snort at that. Record keeping was important — they only knew about so many of the monsters in Atmos because someone had wrote about it and kept it safe before being torn apart.
"I'll be right back," he said as he took it from her hands.
It wouldn't take long to check.
* * *
Stork dived onto his diary as soon as he reached it (metal box by his bed; secure enough to keep away the leaf flies, and close enough he could grab it after waking up). He skipped pages at a time, muttering under his breath as he walked to where he'd placed Piper's log. Nothing had happened when he let go of his shoulder, but he wanted to finish as quickly as possible.
That was when — no, that wasn't what he was looking for. Oh, he remembered when that happened, but that still wasn't-
He peered at the date laid out in Piper's log and then turned back to his own diary, matching them up.
And they did.
His stomach was twisting again, his legs feeling like one of the slimy foods Junko liked eating, so he collapsed into his chair before he fell to the ground.
That - that was just one instance. (And sometimes that was all that was needed.)
He found another entry in Piper's log and looked in his own diary.
The same.
He flicked through more, and why hadn't he noticed this pattern before?
Because he'd been distracted at the time, recovering from their latest escape or more worried about the Condor, and by the time he had the time and energy to look at his own health... He'd thought it was good at the time, that it had cleared up on its own and he didn't have a disease that would have taken a limb.
But this...
This was...
He didn't know.
He didn't know.
He'd never heard anything like this before. Mind worms, psychic bugs and hallucinogenic venus flytraps, he knew about and had invented things specifically to protect himself from them.
He'd never heard of someone becoming psychically linked to their ship. Especially to the point where they could feel what was wrong with the ship like it was happening to their own body!
...It explained so much. Why he had phantom rashes and his stomach was unsettled at times.
Stork reached out and, hesitating a little, brushed his fingers against his bedroom wall.
His ears twitched at the Condor groaning and he felt a pull to go somewhere.
So that was it, then. This was where he was driven to throw himself out the Condor and into the waiting jaws of whatever had taken hold of his mind.
No?
Stork blinked, twisting his ears even though he knew he hadn't heard that. The correction had come from inside him.
Not death.
It was like trying to grab hold of a cloud: there were only indistinct traces and nothing left after reaching out.
But whatever it was didn't want him dead and — Stork squinted. It wanted him to go to the bridge, nowhere else.
Maybe that was where his death awaited instead.
Another nudge, patient. Knowing.
Because the Condor was the safest place in all of Atmos for him, and the bridge was where he was the most protected.
He would need to get to the levers first.
It didn't take him long to jam on his protective gear (his head didn't feel any different when he'd clasped on the helmet, but if whatever it was was already inside him...) and he crept along the corridors, hands wrapped around the pot handle, in case he was ambushed.
Everything was normal though, and he didn't see or hear anything that was out of place.
Step by step, Stork made his way to the bridge. The sense of impending doom didn't grow though, which made Stork even more suspicious.
The bridge was empty and Stork edged towards the steering wheel, peering at the shadows and through the window. There still wasn't an ominous shape there and... Hm.
Stork's attention was drawn to the Engine Crystals, glowing in the sunlight but inactive.
They weren't inactive. They were-
Stork's eyes widened, realising what it was. What had happened.
He did know what this was.
With enough regular use, crystals started to synchronise with whatever they were attached to, the equipment able to access more of the crystal's energy more efficiently. As the equipment picked up more of the energy, so did the user. It was how Sky Knights developed their signature moves: by getting more in tune with their weapons and being able to use the energy it had gathered.
He wasn't a Sky Knight, but he did have the Condor, and he was her pilot.
There was another groan, soft. Almost a croon. Agreeing with him.
Protective.
They'd rescued her from the wastelands, fixed her so she could fly again, and in return, she tried to protect them as best as she could when they needed it.
All the air in Stork's lungs rushed out in a whoosh and he braced his hands on the edge of the closest flat surface.
His ears twitched towards a knock at the bridge entrance.
"Hey, Stork?" Aerrow said, walking in, looking over Stork with a small frown, concern creasing the space between his eyebrows. "The others said you were acting different from usual — you okay?"
Stork glanced at the Condor's Engine Crystals and then back at Aerrow.
"Yeah," he said, "I am." Now that he knew what was going on. "…Can I ask you something, about crystals?"
Aerrow blinked, and then gave him a puzzled smile. "Sure, but shouldn't you ask Piper? She's the expert, after all."
Mmn, he would ask her afterwards. "I will." But he was going to gather as much information as he could, and Aerrow was a good start.
_____________________________________
Heh, of course in the first fic after getting back into this fandom is write about sentient items and mental connections with them.
Summary: The Condor is Stork's home and safety. On a routine check after a mission, Stork realises something else about her.
Notes: So this ended up being way longer and went in a different direction than I expected.
I'm still in the middle of rewatching so I might have a couple details off.
Rating: G
Genre: Friendship
Word count: 2,462
Status: Complete
Stork didn't stop trembling as he dashed up the Condor's ramp, his toes gripping the metal as he propelled himself up.
That - that hadn't been a fun mission. But then again, what mission ever was? This one had involved following Cyclonians to find out what their latest plan was.
Until Dark Ace showed up and recognised who they were, of course.
Stork shuddered.
But he inhaled as he entered the Condor, breathing in the distinct smell that was hers alone (they'd tried to scrub it out once, but the smell lingered no matter if they used soap and a brush, or crystals) and he started to relax just from that.
It wouldn't be quite enough though, so he went straight for the bridge, each step looser as he recognised familiar surroundings.
He exhaled once he reached the bridge, everything still in place and where he left it. He walked over to the ship's wheel and slid his hands around the handles, his fingertips finding the familiar grooves his nails had left in the leather when he had gripped it too tight trying to get them away from death chasing their tail.
Safety. Protection. Home.
That was what the Condor was to him and more, and the bridge was the safest part of her, where he was in control. If he was attacked here, he could fly away, and if the intruders got into the Condor, all it took was one lever pull and they were gone.
But that didn't stop Stork's ears from twitching at the metal groaning behind him. Too close to be the rest of the Storm Hawks, and too concentrated as well, not like their footsteps as they walked (or ran) down the corridors.
Stork knew the Condor, what made her strain, just how far he could push her, but there were times were he wasn't sure if there was something else there, the hair at the back of his neck raising at times, just before he heard a rumble that wasn't part of her usual workings.
He'd checked for metal biters of course -tiny stowaways that could end up eating a ship whole if they weren't contained fast enough- but he'd found no trace and most other things that sounded like...that tended to be bigger. Much bigger.
They would have been dead already if it was the other possibilities.
Unless whatever it was was biding its time, gathering its strength to swallow them all in one bite-!
The perimeter alarm hadn't been tripped, but he would double check everything. Just in case.
Stork screamed as he swerved out the way of the terra, grunting as he pulled the steering wheel.
They weren't going to make it.
"Come on, come on," he begged through clenched teeth, arms trembling with the strain, even though he knew it was useless. The Condor didn't have enough power to get out of the way.
All he'd done was make sure she impaled herself faster. At least that way they had a much larger chance of exploding.
That was better than falling to the wastelands and seeing exactly what was going to eat him before chomp.
Stork eyes widened instead as he felt the Condor kick, his arms tensing even more as she jerked and clear the terra.
His ears flattened and he winced at the dull shriek as the terra scratched her hull on the way up, but it was just a scratch. That was fixable.
Then his ears were filled with the Storm Hawks' cheering as they reached the safety above the clouds again.
Stork was sure he could feel the night worms' grinding teeth missing the Condor by a hair.
"Good job, Stork!" he heard Piper say and he had enough time to brace himself for her hug. "I thought we were goners for sure there!"
"I-" They should have been. Engine Crystals didn't do that — they had a continuous output and nothing changed that. Even a Velocity Crystal just meant they went faster, nothing else. He had already been gunning them as hard as they could; that should have been it.
The Condor groaned again and he peered through the periscope, partially to know what was behind them but also to keep himself upright, his legs not quite holding his weight. He saw the night worms dive back below the cloud line, their tails leaving a swirling trail behind them.
Stork continued to scan the skies for any movement, but that seemed to be it.
They'd…made it. Survived. But now they had to check on all the damages so they wouldn't fall straight back into the wastelands.
"How's she looking, Stork?" Aerrow asked, hopping up next to Stork as he inspected the damage across her hull.
"Mmm, fine, mostly," Stork said, rubbing his left shoulder. Another rash? "No breaches and nothing's nested itself into the cracks." No trace of orange and yellow spotted fungus anyway. That took a couple of days before it could be seen though; Stork had sprayed the area down, just in case.
"And you?"
Stork glanced at Aerrow through the corner of his eyes. That was what Aerrow always seemed to do with everyone, checking in on them at least once a day. "Aside from the upset stomach? I have a new rash," Stork said, pressing his fingertips into his shoulder. There hadn't been any symptoms or evidence of one, but Stork could feel it there, like it was under his skin, mocking him and his eyes. Even when he took off his uniform he could still feel it and scratching didn't help (the upside was it wasn't getting worse).
"It would be a bad idea to pat you there, huh?" Aerrow asked, one corner of his mouth curled up.
"Yeah." Stork glanced back at the Condor and he got a light pat on the back as Aerrow left, just above the Storm Hawk logo.
Was that another-? Stork squinted for a second at the hull before he leaped up, his fingers and toes able to grab enough purchase to let him propel himself up further.
Aha-! Mmhm, he'd been right: Stork inspected the network of gouges along her hull. That must have been where the night worms had first attached. There were long scores in the metal, twisted inwards.
Stork peered into the holes but couldn't see any movement. Night worms didn't like being above the cloud layer, and the hole was too small for them to have fit through.
He dropped a pebble he kept in his pocket for distractions into a hole anyway and kept his ears pricked as it bounced into the darkness, but he didn't hear any other movement.
Good. Nothing inside (yet). Now he just had to close it up before something did slither inside. He wouldn't be able to smoothen it out himself.
He knew someone who would though.
"Are these the ones?" Junko asked, patting the breech, and Stork nodded, rubbing his shoulder.
"That's the only ones I could find so far." He'd looked around while waiting for Junko, but that seemed to be it.
"Got it!" Junko grunted as he activated his energy knuckle dusters and peeled the metal back until the edges lined up with each other again. "How's that?"
"That's-" Stork blinked, digging his fingers into his shoulder again. "Fine?" What? It felt as if his rash had disappeared like it never been there in the first place.
Junko smiled, deactivating his knuckle dusters. "Great! If ya need anything else, just tell me."
"Y-yeah, sure," Stork said, staring at the hull, trying to keep his breathing steady. The hole was on the left side of the Condor and if she'd had a humanoid body, that wound would have rested...on her left shoulder. Where his rash had been. Where it had disappeared as soon as Junko had fixed the metal.
"Hey, Stork?" Junko frowned, leaning in to peer at him. "You okay, buddy?"
Stork scrambled back a step. "Fine! Just fine!" No, he wasn't. "There's something I need to check."
Something he had to check right away.
He fled, hearing Junko call out after him.
Stork poked his room into Piper's room. "Hey, uhm, Piper?" He shifted his weight from foot to foot, swallowing. His heart was both somewhere in his stomach and sending blood roaring into his head, dizzying him.
She looked up from the crystal she was working on, lifting her googles. "Hey, Stork, what's up?"
"Oh, lots of things." A lot of things. "Can I borrow your squadron log? It's sort of...important." Very.
"Sure!" She walked over to her desk and Stork followed her, his hand not leaving his shoulder. Maybe the rash would come back if he let go. Maybe his arm would fall off. "I know you won't make any comments or draw all over it."
He couldn't stop his snort at that. Record keeping was important — they only knew about so many of the monsters in Atmos because someone had wrote about it and kept it safe before being torn apart.
"I'll be right back," he said as he took it from her hands.
It wouldn't take long to check.
Stork dived onto his diary as soon as he reached it (metal box by his bed; secure enough to keep away the leaf flies, and close enough he could grab it after waking up). He skipped pages at a time, muttering under his breath as he walked to where he'd placed Piper's log. Nothing had happened when he let go of his shoulder, but he wanted to finish as quickly as possible.
That was when — no, that wasn't what he was looking for. Oh, he remembered when that happened, but that still wasn't-
He peered at the date laid out in Piper's log and then turned back to his own diary, matching them up.
And they did.
His stomach was twisting again, his legs feeling like one of the slimy foods Junko liked eating, so he collapsed into his chair before he fell to the ground.
That - that was just one instance. (And sometimes that was all that was needed.)
He found another entry in Piper's log and looked in his own diary.
The same.
He flicked through more, and why hadn't he noticed this pattern before?
Because he'd been distracted at the time, recovering from their latest escape or more worried about the Condor, and by the time he had the time and energy to look at his own health... He'd thought it was good at the time, that it had cleared up on its own and he didn't have a disease that would have taken a limb.
But this...
This was...
He didn't know.
He didn't know.
He'd never heard anything like this before. Mind worms, psychic bugs and hallucinogenic venus flytraps, he knew about and had invented things specifically to protect himself from them.
He'd never heard of someone becoming psychically linked to their ship. Especially to the point where they could feel what was wrong with the ship like it was happening to their own body!
...It explained so much. Why he had phantom rashes and his stomach was unsettled at times.
Stork reached out and, hesitating a little, brushed his fingers against his bedroom wall.
His ears twitched at the Condor groaning and he felt a pull to go somewhere.
So that was it, then. This was where he was driven to throw himself out the Condor and into the waiting jaws of whatever had taken hold of his mind.
No?
Stork blinked, twisting his ears even though he knew he hadn't heard that. The correction had come from inside him.
Not death.
It was like trying to grab hold of a cloud: there were only indistinct traces and nothing left after reaching out.
But whatever it was didn't want him dead and — Stork squinted. It wanted him to go to the bridge, nowhere else.
Maybe that was where his death awaited instead.
Another nudge, patient. Knowing.
Because the Condor was the safest place in all of Atmos for him, and the bridge was where he was the most protected.
He would need to get to the levers first.
It didn't take him long to jam on his protective gear (his head didn't feel any different when he'd clasped on the helmet, but if whatever it was was already inside him...) and he crept along the corridors, hands wrapped around the pot handle, in case he was ambushed.
Everything was normal though, and he didn't see or hear anything that was out of place.
Step by step, Stork made his way to the bridge. The sense of impending doom didn't grow though, which made Stork even more suspicious.
The bridge was empty and Stork edged towards the steering wheel, peering at the shadows and through the window. There still wasn't an ominous shape there and... Hm.
Stork's attention was drawn to the Engine Crystals, glowing in the sunlight but inactive.
They weren't inactive. They were-
Stork's eyes widened, realising what it was. What had happened.
He did know what this was.
With enough regular use, crystals started to synchronise with whatever they were attached to, the equipment able to access more of the crystal's energy more efficiently. As the equipment picked up more of the energy, so did the user. It was how Sky Knights developed their signature moves: by getting more in tune with their weapons and being able to use the energy it had gathered.
He wasn't a Sky Knight, but he did have the Condor, and he was her pilot.
There was another groan, soft. Almost a croon. Agreeing with him.
Protective.
They'd rescued her from the wastelands, fixed her so she could fly again, and in return, she tried to protect them as best as she could when they needed it.
All the air in Stork's lungs rushed out in a whoosh and he braced his hands on the edge of the closest flat surface.
His ears twitched towards a knock at the bridge entrance.
"Hey, Stork?" Aerrow said, walking in, looking over Stork with a small frown, concern creasing the space between his eyebrows. "The others said you were acting different from usual — you okay?"
Stork glanced at the Condor's Engine Crystals and then back at Aerrow.
"Yeah," he said, "I am." Now that he knew what was going on. "…Can I ask you something, about crystals?"
Aerrow blinked, and then gave him a puzzled smile. "Sure, but shouldn't you ask Piper? She's the expert, after all."
Mmn, he would ask her afterwards. "I will." But he was going to gather as much information as he could, and Aerrow was a good start.
Heh, of course in the first fic after getting back into this fandom is write about sentient items and mental connections with them.