alobear (
alobear) wrote in
fandomweekly2019-02-02 12:14 pm
Entry tags:
[005] Spacesuit (Original)
Theme Prompt: #005 – Long Shot
Title: Spacesuit
Fandom: Original
Rating/Warnings: None
Bonus: No
Word Count: 736
Summary: Living in a bubble is nice, but sometimes you just have to take a chance.
It’s hot. So hot. The air pump is flowing but I can hardly breathe. I feel like the atmosphere is pushing in on me. But my suit is secure. I checked every seal twice. There’s no way the contamination of this hostile planet can reach me. I’m safe. Protected. Separate from everything I can see outside my helmet. I’m here. I’m standing right here. But there’s a sheet of plastic between me and anyone who might be in the area.
It’s so hot, though. My sweat is gathering in uncomfortable places. I can smell its fug permeating the suit. I’m going to have to get it cleaned when I get home. My own stench is choking me. I’m trapped in this tiny space with my stink. Is it fear? Is it panic? I’m trying to stay calm but it’s a scary world out there and I don’t know how long I can survive like this. The only sensations I have are my own. My breath loud in my ears. My sweat trickling down my back. My heart beating in my chest.
There might be other people near me but I can’t sense them. My helmet only allows a small window of vision. The protection stops me from being able to hear anything other than the noises my body is making. All I can feel is the puffy thickness of my gloves. The close contact of the suit material on my exposed skin. I’m safe.
But am I really? Am I not actually incredibly vulnerable to attack, sealed here inside my protective suit? I’d have no warning if someone were to approach. I wouldn’t know if someone was plotting to attack me. I think I’m safe but really I’m exposed. To ridicule. To confusion. To misunderstanding. I’ve put myself in a position where I’ll stand out. Draw attention to myself. Which is the opposite of what I want. All I’ve ever wanted was to blend in, meld into the background.
I’ve always been a good observer. I’ve spotted when people don’t have my best interests at heart and managed to avoid getting hurt. But maybe that’s prompted me to be too insular. Maybe I’ve locked myself away from human contact too much. Not been prepared to give others an opportunity to get to know me and show that they might like me. I’ve shut myself in my suit and I wander the world in it, only looking out at what’s around me and never willing to interact directly.
Maybe it’s time to break the seal. Maybe I should take even one glove off, feel free air on my skin. Test the temperature. Will it be cold? Will it reject me? Will I feel pain or discomfort? Perhaps. But maybe the air will be warm. Maybe it will be welcoming. If I don’t try it, I’ll never know. I could stay inside my suit forever, safe and sound. But then I’d never know if I could have something more. If there’s something or someone out there, reaching back towards me.
I’m scared. Frightened of what dangers could be lurking in unseen corners. Terrified of what could happen if I expose myself to the outside. But life in my bubble is sterile, confining. All I have is myself and I’m starting to think I might want more. After all, there are a lot more unseen corners with my helmet on. I want to breathe free air, make eye contact with someone, anyone. Smile and maybe receive a smile in return. Is that so hard to do? What’s the worst that could happen? Surely it’s better to take the risk than live forever in this shell.
I reach up slowly with both hands and feel for the release catches on either side of the bulky dome of my helmet. My heart thuds in my ears. I press the catches and hear the hiss of air breaching the seal. It’s too late now. The atmosphere might be toxic but it’s in here with me now. I’ve made a connection between me and the outside. So I might as well see it through. The outside air is already inside, so there’s no point sealing myself in again now.
I push the helmet up until it clears the top of my head. I take a breath. And another. I look around and see someone standing behind me.
I smile. They smile.
First contact.
Title: Spacesuit
Fandom: Original
Rating/Warnings: None
Bonus: No
Word Count: 736
Summary: Living in a bubble is nice, but sometimes you just have to take a chance.
It’s hot. So hot. The air pump is flowing but I can hardly breathe. I feel like the atmosphere is pushing in on me. But my suit is secure. I checked every seal twice. There’s no way the contamination of this hostile planet can reach me. I’m safe. Protected. Separate from everything I can see outside my helmet. I’m here. I’m standing right here. But there’s a sheet of plastic between me and anyone who might be in the area.
It’s so hot, though. My sweat is gathering in uncomfortable places. I can smell its fug permeating the suit. I’m going to have to get it cleaned when I get home. My own stench is choking me. I’m trapped in this tiny space with my stink. Is it fear? Is it panic? I’m trying to stay calm but it’s a scary world out there and I don’t know how long I can survive like this. The only sensations I have are my own. My breath loud in my ears. My sweat trickling down my back. My heart beating in my chest.
There might be other people near me but I can’t sense them. My helmet only allows a small window of vision. The protection stops me from being able to hear anything other than the noises my body is making. All I can feel is the puffy thickness of my gloves. The close contact of the suit material on my exposed skin. I’m safe.
But am I really? Am I not actually incredibly vulnerable to attack, sealed here inside my protective suit? I’d have no warning if someone were to approach. I wouldn’t know if someone was plotting to attack me. I think I’m safe but really I’m exposed. To ridicule. To confusion. To misunderstanding. I’ve put myself in a position where I’ll stand out. Draw attention to myself. Which is the opposite of what I want. All I’ve ever wanted was to blend in, meld into the background.
I’ve always been a good observer. I’ve spotted when people don’t have my best interests at heart and managed to avoid getting hurt. But maybe that’s prompted me to be too insular. Maybe I’ve locked myself away from human contact too much. Not been prepared to give others an opportunity to get to know me and show that they might like me. I’ve shut myself in my suit and I wander the world in it, only looking out at what’s around me and never willing to interact directly.
Maybe it’s time to break the seal. Maybe I should take even one glove off, feel free air on my skin. Test the temperature. Will it be cold? Will it reject me? Will I feel pain or discomfort? Perhaps. But maybe the air will be warm. Maybe it will be welcoming. If I don’t try it, I’ll never know. I could stay inside my suit forever, safe and sound. But then I’d never know if I could have something more. If there’s something or someone out there, reaching back towards me.
I’m scared. Frightened of what dangers could be lurking in unseen corners. Terrified of what could happen if I expose myself to the outside. But life in my bubble is sterile, confining. All I have is myself and I’m starting to think I might want more. After all, there are a lot more unseen corners with my helmet on. I want to breathe free air, make eye contact with someone, anyone. Smile and maybe receive a smile in return. Is that so hard to do? What’s the worst that could happen? Surely it’s better to take the risk than live forever in this shell.
I reach up slowly with both hands and feel for the release catches on either side of the bulky dome of my helmet. My heart thuds in my ears. I press the catches and hear the hiss of air breaching the seal. It’s too late now. The atmosphere might be toxic but it’s in here with me now. I’ve made a connection between me and the outside. So I might as well see it through. The outside air is already inside, so there’s no point sealing myself in again now.
I push the helmet up until it clears the top of my head. I take a breath. And another. I look around and see someone standing behind me.
I smile. They smile.
First contact.

no subject
But it might be fun to develop it as a literal first contact situation!
no subject