1977, Alaskan Ironwood Forest
Sol
"Oh... my fucking gods." I mumbled as I looked down into the cockpit of this... Oh sweet lords of hell.
"Isn't it so cool?!" He shouted while bouncing ip and down, still covered in his mechanic overalls. He stood in my deeper garage, a hanger for things I collected over the centuries. He had brought somethibg new he had heard of. It was this gigantic, blocku mess of a mech. It was white, blue, and red, which was not a bad color combo, but it was so pointy in all the oddest places, and all I could wonder about was who the fuck designed this thing for combat?!
"It's.." I looked across the cockpit, seeing the big dopey happy smile on his face. "It's so cool babe!" I smiled brightly.
"Noooo, No." He wagged his finger. "I know that face. Come on, give it to me. I know you hate itttt."
"I don't hate i-" I yipped, quieted by his soft hand now right under my chin. Foxy ears stood up, then fell flat as their black fur fell over silver jair. My matching tail was now pounding the metal flooring pretty loudly, so I definitely couldn't hide it.
"Babygirl, you know I love seeing you dissect. Now. Come on." He scratched under my chin, which had effectively become his lock and key to all my secrets.
"Ughhh it is so fucking POINTY!" The rant went on for a solid four hours before I finally ran out of steam – and maybe because he had let me modify the engine – and slipped into the cockpit, settled nicely on his lap.
"Now. Feel better?" He kissed my cheek.
"Mhm." I nodded.
"Good." He started grabbing levers left and right, the gears whirling to life as my ears dell back. The noise briefly irritated me before i adjusted the sound dampener spells around my ear lobes. I practically needed them to keep me from going mad hearing birds bitch from halfway across the damn planet.
"Sound too bad on ya, babygirl?"
"No, sir." I kiss his cheek through his admittedly cute helmet.
"You know, I had one formyou."
"We both know I will never wear it."
"Even cut out ear and horn holessss."
"..."
....
"Cozy?"
"Mhm." So I put on the entire suit, even though I normally hate anything this tight, as we began exiting the atmosphere. A smile spread on my face through the matching helmet as I rest my head against his, my beloved sea of stars unfolding before our eyes as the rim of the milky way began to visibly show. The painting of colors across the endless sky was always breath taking, no matter how long I lived or traveled across the ages.
My hand rested on his, relaxing at the feeling of it as I pulled out my little notebook. I flipped to a new page, smiling as I began to lightly sketch an image of us. I was interrupted when the whole damn thing rumbled, grumbling in foxish sounds about turbulence and ruined pencils before noticing he had warped the entire thing into a warzone.
"So, Babygirl. Think you can beat it?" A grin stretched across my face as I saw hordes of green, rounder versions of his own mech.
"Now, love. When have you ever won these competitions?" I stood up as the cockpit opened with a hiss of atmosphere. I took the helmet off, but decided to keep on the cute pink bodysuit as I tossed the helmet perfectly onto the hook behind the seat.
"A man can dream."
"Dohhh, and here I thought I'd been a gorgeous nightmare the whole time."
"Much more exciting than terrifying."
"Mmm, bet you live for those chills." I launched out of the cockpit as he closed it behind me. I felt a little freer, I will admit, in the vacuum of space. This body was a mask to live among the sentient living, but I only needed air and heat when I decided I did. Or when I got that hiliarcian cold. Fuck that was a nasty week.
I felt the shift in parricles as a brilliant nlade of light burned in one hand of his giant mess and a shield click onto the arm. His voice echoed in my head easily. "Careful there. Might judt ruin that pretty hair."
"Nah. That's your job." As I tore right through one mech, erupting violently into a small blast of metal in the vacuum as I felt the spray and shift in radiation from another meeting his blade. I debated for a moment as I floated near the wreckage which weapon to use, but seeing him dueling off against the fancier mechs with the classic sword and board had me giggling. And he calls me dramatic.
I pulled out a bow. It was the first weapon my mother Skith had gifted me with, and one I had rarely used. Nisabu helped me find a love for it again, tracing my hand along the fine nightmare tail-hair string and the firm ironwood arch of its recurved form. "Suppose this is a good moment to use you, old friend." My fingers sung across the string as black flames turned to crystal sharpness, drawing back in trinity as I aimed across the fields of fire and broken metal.
Were there air, surely it would have cracked as the string snapped to fire, a trio of shadows tearing through blackness as they found and turned three more of the green bastards to eruptions of cinders and burning metal. Another knotch, another trio of singing explosions.
I grinned as my thoughts hummed with his. He was singing a song I didn't understand, but it played through the radio of his mech as his slashed and fought like a knight of old. A sigh escaped me in romantic adoration as my bow split soil from flesh alongside his searing saber of energy.
It was likely only twenty minutes, but our flight there felt like it lasted hours. Time always seems to grow even harder to grasp, whenever he is around. That's alright, though. I like how timeless it makes our space.