Chapter 2 I Of Orange and Blue:
Miles woke up to the sound of a crash.
It shook the ground, flickies flying off from their nests at the commotion. Miles himself almost fell off his tree from the surprise, so he couldn't exactly blame them.
He held on for dear life to the branch he had used as a bed, careful of not making any noises as he left a few seconds pass. He would have liked to stay there longer, but his arms were starting to hurt from the position, so he silently jumped down to the floor.
He hissed more loudly than he would have wanted, the landing had reawakened the pain in his knee. On the bright side, it had completely woken him up.
A smell hit his nose. It was acrid and sharp in a way that made him want to cover his face. However, it also had an artificial feeling to it, one that reminded him of the gas station back in town.
Miles thought he might have a good idea what it was, but just to make sure… yup there it was. High above the trees, smoke was forming from what appeared to be the beach, judging from the way the wind was blowing.
Miles should probably leave. On any other occasion, it was probably Slash and his gang playing some stupid game or preparing some type of "joke" for him, but this fire didn't appear to be made from the wood found around the beachside, it lacked that woody tint to it. Instead, Miles was certainly sure it was something chemical, and no matter how hard he tried to suppress it, his curiosity always got the best of him.
He made his way towards the beach as cautiously as he could. The closer he got, the stronger the smell became, it got to a point where Miles had to use one of his tails to cover his face, and hid behind some of the leafier plants on the outskirts of the forest. But it was worth it.
There, halfway buried in the sand, was the best thing Miles had ever seen. A small red plane with white decorations on its sides. It seemed to be a single engine aircraft, judging by its singular propeller at the front, but he was certain it could achieve incredible speeds. Miles could only imagine what a sight the plane would make in its full glory. Unfortunately, it seemed he found it in one of its worse moments.
Miles' admiration for the aircraft had to be cut short as his ears flickered at another sound. A blue hedgehog with red shoes and white gloves that Miles could only assume was the pilot, judging by the dirty spots in his fur, was frantically running back and forth from the shore to the plane. Even from this far away, Miles could make out his panicked expression and slightly hear his cut-out swears under his breath.
The hedgehog seemed to be trying, and failing, to draw water from the ocean in a small bucket and throwing it onto the plane's engine, where the fire most likely originated. Miles knew that simple water would be of no help with a chemical fire, and it seemed the hedgehog figured it out too after the flames only continued to grow.
He could practically see the gears moving in the hedgehog's head as he stood still for one, two seconds, before he snapped his fingers and moved to stand right in front of the plane, his back against the engine.
Miles was about to do something, did the hedgehog really not know how dangerous it was to put your back to a fire?, but what he did instead froze him dead in his tracks.
The hedgehog had dropped down, arms stretched on the ground to carry his weight, and began to run. Miles watched in shock as his feet turned into a red blur, throwing a ridiculous amount of sand onto the plane's engine in a matter of seconds. Gaining that amount of speed in so little time was absurd! It was even crazier that he managed to create enough force for the sand to practically go flying, but it worked.
The fire disappeared between a blink of his eyes and the next. In its place, even more of the plane had been buried under sand. It seemed the hedgehog wasn't too happy with this outcome though, as he grabbed his head with his hands and threw it back in an exaggerated gesture, a groan of frustration leaving him as he did.
Miles was too stunned to do anything but watch as the hedgehog straightened back up, shook his head, and brought a hand to rest under his chin, a thoughtful expression in his face. The only thing giving away his impatience was his foot, bouncing up and down in increasing speed until it became a red blur that sent some small grains of sand flying around it.
He seemed to have found a solution, for he stopped bouncing his foot, gave a shrug at who knows what, and sped up towards the town.
Miles just stood dumfounded in his hiding place. It took him an embarrassing amount of time to process what had just happened, but he finally gained enough clarity of mind to step out and towards the buried plane, letting his tail fall from his face now that the smell was gone.
The hedgehog had certainly been… something, but Miles didn't really have the time to unpack that whole deal. He wasn't sure for how long the pilot would be gone, especially considering his surprising speed; so, if he wanted to get a good look at his plane, he had to be quick.
Miles made his way to the side right of the plane. It seemed it had fallen at an angle, two of its ailerons sticking up from the sand. Wait a second, two ailerons on the same side! It wasn't just an airplane; it was a biplane!
He couldn't stop his tails from wagging in his excitement. He ran over to the tail of the plane and stared at the decoration carved there. A thick white line created stark contrast to the red coating of the biplane, a blue star symbol in the middle, two wings expanding on its sides.
Miles could stare at it for hours; he shakily brought his hand to touch the metal, wanting to make sure this was real, that this wasn't some sick joke or prank. He was touching a real plane!
He practically jumped 4 feet off the ground, tails helping him gain the altitude, before he forced himself to calm down. Shaking his hands and drawing deep breaths until he could focus again.
First things first, he had to clean off the sand from the biplane.
Miles looked around for anything that could help him in his task, his eyes caught on the bucket the hedgehog had been using to draw water from the ocean; it hadn't helped with the fire, but maybe it could help in cleaning up this mess.
He picked it up and began to pour as much sand into it before dropping its contents further away from the aircraft. It was a tedious task, but Miles was determined to fix this magnificent machine up to its original glory.
At least, that was the idea. He soon realized that it would take him hours just to clean the front side of the biplane, he didn't even want to think how long the rest of the plane would take.
But Miles wasn't one to give up, he took a step back and analyzed the situation, a hand resting on his chin.
Maybe if he grabbed some of the leaves from the palm trees nearby? They were heavy though, and he would have to bring them down somehow… no, that wouldn't do. A shovel would be of help, but he doubted he could find a complete shovel in the garbage around town, not to mention he would have to carry it all the way here and hope that Slash didn't find him on his way back. So then what-
His train of thought stopped short as Miles stared at the spot the hedgehog had used to run in place.
There was a relatively deep pit from where the hedgehog had drawn the sand from. It was different from the rest of the beach, so Miles guessed that was the reason it had caught his attention. He looked at it a while longer before going back to the plane. One of the blades of the propeller was slightly sticking up from the mound. Most likely one out of the two blades.
Two blades… An idea started to take form in Miles' head. His sight jumped from the pit, to the blade and then to his tails. Yeah… yeah! That could work!
He dropped down into the same pose the hedgehog had been using, arms stretched on the ground to carry his weight, but instead of running, he started to spin his tails.
He moved them in increasing speed, following the same pattern as a propeller would. Soon enough, Miles could feel a small breeze starting to gain power on his back. He risked a peek at the biplane and couldn't help the gasp that left him. The sand was being blown from the stream he had created!
A soft giggle formed in his throat, but it quickly turned into full on laughter. He- he was using his tails to help somebody! Miles couldn't believe it, everyone had told him that his tails were only a problem, but this- this-!
Miles lost his balance in his excitement. One of his arms gave out and he could feel how gravity was trying to claim him. He brought his hands to his face, tensing up for the moment he would crash against the ground-
-Only, it never came.
A nice breeze was brushing against his body. Miles slowly removed his hands and opened one of his eyes in confusion.
He was- moving? The trees around him were starting to merge into the background, the three locks on his forehead flying in the wind.
Miles could only blink. He carefully looked down and saw that his feet were just- hovering?! He was about to freak out before a new sound hit his ears. One that was coming from behind him.
His eyes widened even more. His tails were still spinning, propelling him forward at a speed he didn't think was possible for him to ever achieve.
Miles was speechless. A part of his brain was screaming over how illogical this whole thing was. But another, younger part that he hasn't felt in a long time, was just happy.
His laughter returned; the sound so alien that it took him a moment to recognize it as his own. He spread his arms, just enjoying the wind as it hit his face, and continued to run on the beach. A light feeling in his chest.
Miles had no idea for how long he had been hovering, but he soon felt an exhaustion creeping in from his tails. Stopping had been tricky, it had been messier than what he would have liked, but he managed to go back to where he had started. In front of the biplane.
He had gotten too caught up with all of… that. That he hadn't noticed his efforts had paid off.
The biplane was free of sand. A small portion of the front was still buried, but it seemed to be from the landing. All the way from the propeller to around the midpoint of the plane seemed to be covered in soot left from the fire, which was a shame. Miles would have loved to see the plane in all of its red glory.
There wasn't a lot he could do to get the plane out of the ditch it had gotten into. But Miles knew for a fact that he could help fix the engine. It seemed to be the cause of the accident, after all.
Miles made his way over to the front and opened the engine hatch. Some smoke flew out as soon as he did, making him cough a little, but he got a good look at what the problem was.
There were many, but as with all things, Miles took it one step at a time.
He took out a screwdriver from one of his tails, it was a miracle it hadn't fallen off, and started working in getting all the burned pieces out.
It was going to be a long day, but there's nowhere else Miles would rather be than surrounded by machinery.
Okay, so, maybe Sonic should have brought the Tornado over for a checkup before he took her out on an adventure, sue him.
But it's not as if he knew that leaving so suddenly would lead to the engine catching fire! Sonic had been busy enough drawing a course where he assumed was an archipelago, he thought that looking at the Tornado's fuel would be enough.
But as always, his decisions came to bite him in the butt.
He had been enjoying the view from the skies when a burning smell hit his nose. Sonic didn't even have enough time to panic before multiple red lights started to appear on the Tornado's board, visible smoke coming soon after.
What happened after that was sort of messy, Sonic would forever deny being the one responsible for making all those high-pitched screams, but the important bit was that he didn't die while landing the Tornado.
Or well, crashing would be more like it.
Come on now, between landing in the middle of the ocean while being surrounded by water or making a messy landing on some random island, Sonic would argue he got off the hook easily there.
After taking care of the fire that had erupted from the Tornado's engine, Sonic had a brand-new set of problems waiting for him.
First off, he had to figure out where he was. He may or may not be regretting doing so little research when it came to visiting new places, but where was the fun in that? The point of exploring is finding things out yourself, marveling at all those hidden wonders all over the world with the satisfaction that it was your own hard work what brought you there. Where's the fun in reading it from a guide?
Priorities, Sonic, priorities.
Right, yeah, figuring out where he was. His best bet doing that would be by finding some sort of civilization. He knew from experience that, if a town didn't settle by the ocean, they'd probably be somewhere in the middle of the islands they lived on, closer to the rivers and lakes, so he should probably go there and decide according to the stuff he found.
Welp, better get going. Standing in front of the Tornado's crash side wouldn't get him anywhere. As soon as he figured out what he was working with, Sonic would spend his time fixing the Tornado and trying to get her back in working order. He was no mechanic, but hopefully someone could help him or at least give him the proper tools for Sonic to at least get the Tornado back in the sky. He would hate leaving her behind in such a poor condition.
Sonic dashed into the heart of the island. He kept an eye out for any signs of civilization, but he also took his time to admire the natural beauty of the place.
Sonic wasn't blind to the possibility of him getting stuck here for a while, but it didn't mean he couldn't appreciate the magnificence that each place had to offer. That was life, after all. You can't always plan for what happens next, but you can take it one step at a time and appreciate what the universe throws at you.
Fortunately for him, the start of a road began to form under his feet. His quick steps echoing against the marble. He followed the path and soon enough found himself in front of a wooden sign, yellow letters popping up against a white background.
"Welcome to West Side Island!"
Hmm, that name did ring a bell, yeah. Sonic hadn't read much about the place, but it seemed to be your average, run of the mill town with the same hundred or so citizens. But Sonic wasn't one to go by just surface level impressions. Who knows, this town might be hiding some amazing things just waiting to be found.
With that thought in mind, Sonic ventured into the small community. There was a main road with all sorts of stores lined up at its sides, some smaller roads leading to what appeared to be residential areas. At the main road's end was a roundabout with a nice little playground in the middle, the City Hall overlooking it all.
Sonic whistled. For a small town, this wasn't half bad. Way better than some of the other places he had been to before.
He continued walking on the pavement, arms at the back of his head as he whistled a tune that had been stuck in his head for a while now. Some of the citizens had stopped what they were doing to stare at him, kids tugging at their mother's hand while pointing at him.
Sonic's steps faltered a bit as he heard whispers around him, going slightly out of tune as some of the faces turned into disgust. It all was familiar to him; in a way he didn't like. Not one bit.
It wasn't until he caught sight of his own reflection at one of the store's windows that he let his body relax. He was a mess, quite literally.
His body was more black than it was blue, dirty spots covering him from head to toe. He had forgotten to wash out all the grease he had gained while on the crash, no wonder people were looking at him weirdly.
Welp, he could take care of that later. Right now, he needed to get some basic supplies and something to help him with the Tornado's current sand problem.
Sonic finally found a hardware store, the chime of the small bell marking his arrival.
It was exactly what one could expect. All sorts of tools were decorating the walls on his right, while the left one held multiple building materials, there was a displayer under the counter filled with all sorts of gadgets and other things Sonic couldn't even name. But that wasn't what Sonic was looking for.
"Uhm, hello? Is someone here?" Sonic asked aloud, hoping he hadn't caught the owner on their lunch break.
"On the back, son." A deep voice responded from deep inside the shop.
Surely enough, there was a small door leading to what appeared to be a garage on the back of the store. Sonic opened it and found himself in a decently sized workshop. If he had to describe the place in a word, it would be rustic.
A green walrus was hunched over an old car. A wrench on his hand as he grumbled some stuff Sonic couldn't quite make out from the distance. Sonic quickly realized the store wasn't only a hardware store, but also a mechanic shop. It made sense that a town like this would have two places in one, the opening on the garage leading to the residential area Sonic saw earlier.
"Dammed two-tailed freak, grabbing my old tools- Ah, hello there. Sorry for the mess." The walrus took notice of Sonic's presence in the doorway, still looking around the place. "Name's Wally, at your service."
Wally turned around from the car and faced Sonic with a hand stretched out in greeting, he had a white beard on his face that went down until his midsection. His eyes were tired, yet kind and his gloves were filled with grease.
He seemed to take notice of it too as he pulled away before Sonic could shake his hand, taking off his gloves and looking for a new pair. "Heh, you'll have to excuse me there. I kind of forget how dirty one can get back here. My wife has to keep reminding me."
Sonic gave a small laugh at that. "No worries, Wally, I get what you mean."
"Oh my, it seems I have finally met someone who's messier than me. Martha is never going to believe me, been tinkering around much?" Wally had evidently seen Sonic's appearance, going to grab a clean towel and damping some water on it. "Here, it should help getting that off."
"You could say that, thanks!" Sonic carefully took it from his hands, working swiftly and getting most of the grease off. Blue being once again visible. He would still have to take a bath later, but it would do for now.
"No problem, son. Now, is there anything I can help you with?" Wally asked as he took the now dirty towel, putting it on a drain nearby.
"Yeah, I was wondering if you had some biplane blueprints by any chance? Oh, and a shovel, thanks." The mechanic stared at him as if he had grown a second pair of eyes. Before shaking his head and giving out a laugh.
"Aren't you a weird one, hm?"
"So I've been told."
"Well, you are in luck. I used to be a pilot, back in the day. Now let me see here…" Sonic's excitement continued to grow as Wally went to an old cabinet, opening a few drawers until he pulled out some blue papers.
"These are some of the ones I have, but until I know the exact model they won't be of much help. I'm guessing you're a traveler?" Sonic skimmed over the papers one by one, picking the ones that looked like the Tornado.
"Yeah, ran into some problems with my girl." Sonic returned the blueprints that he didn't need back to Wally. "I'm just trying to fix her up now."
"I could give her a look then, but I'm afraid it will have to wait until tomorrow. I promised my wife, Martha, that I'd spent the afternoon with her today." Wally returned the papers to the original spot, grabbing a shovel that was hanging on the wall and handing it to Sonic.
"I would appreciate that a lot, thank you so much, Wally" Sonic patted around his quills until he felt the bag that held his rings. "How much do I owe ya?
"It would be 35 rings, and take this, is on the house." Wally handed him an old brown bag while he took the money from Sonic's hand. A smile on his face.
Sonic carefully stuffed the papers in there before putting the strap over his shoulders, bag hanging on his left side. "You're too kind, I'll see you around, Wally!"
"Have a nice day, son!"
That had gone surprisingly well. Sonic left the store by the residential side after waving goodbye to the mechanic, watching as kids played around and the parents laughed together. It really did look like the perfect little town.
His stomach grumbled loudly, and Sonic was reminded it was lunch time. He guessed going to a restaurant wouldn't be such a bad idea, and he could grab enough take out for the night and breakfast tomorrow.
This time, when he walked down the pavement, he was met yet again with looks from the kids and parents. But those were of surprise and admiration. Soon enough, Sonic was surrounded by excited children that bombarded him with questions or asked to take a picture with him.
Good, good.
Sonic made his way to a restaurant, a growing crowd following his every step as he gave them his iconic easy-going smile.
Miles hated the night.
He knew he couldn't keep doing this forever, but the sun setting in officially killed any hopes he had left.
Miles knew he was risking it, working this long on a stranger's biplane was dangerous. But he couldn't help it!
Machines were his thing, unlike people, they were predictable. They had patterns which they followed down to the last letter, they were programmable in any sort of way he could dream of, they were reliable.
If he could, Miles would spend as much time as he could surrounded by machines. Their repetition brought peace to him.
But like everything else in his life, nothing ever worked out.
Miles prided himself on his hearing, years of looking over your shoulder did that to you, so when he heard footsteps in the distance, he knew it was time to go.
He hid his screwdriver back into his tails and used them to propel himself into the same hiding spot he had used earlier that day. He tripped halfway there, scrambling the rest of the way while using his tails to cover his tracks.
And good thing he did, for the hedgehog reappeared a few seconds later at the beach. Fur now a deep blue.
He was… surprised it seemed.
He had almost lost his footing as he arrived, letting a shovel he had been carrying fall to the ground, as he stared deeply at the biplane.
After a few minutes, he slowly made his way closer and kneeled next to all the burned pieces Miles had taken out of the engine. He took one of them in his hands, spinning it over before checking the engine itself.
The hedgehog looked to his right, where the pile of sand that had once been over the biplane now stood, and examined it with the same thoughtfulness he had used on the plane.
Between a blink and the next, the hedgehog was dashing all around the beach. Looking high and low for something.
Or maybe someone. Miles' brain not very helpfully supplied.
He had to suppress a flinch as the hedgehog came dangerously close to his hiding spot. Miles' heart was beating so hard he almost feared the hedgehog could hear it.
His green eyes scanned around the forest, slightly squinting them as he focused on something. Miles released the breath he didn't know he had been holding as soon as the hedgehog moved to look somewhere else.
It went like that for a few minutes. Him dashing all over the beach, triple checking some spots even, until the hedgehog had seemingly given up.
His posture was stiff, and his movements more calculated as he made his way to the tail of the biplane, opening a small compartment and taking out some bags.
They turned out to be some camping gear. The hedgehog got the tent up in record time, right beside the plane, and lit a small lantern before settling in for the night. Miles could swear he heard a disappointed sigh coming from him.
He watched the hedgehog until his breaths became even, waiting for a few more minutes before he deemed it safe to go back. Quietly making his way over to his hideout.
It had been a long day, and not only for him it seemed, so Miles decided he should follow the hedgehog's lead.
His knee hurt as he made his way over to his branch, stomach sore from not eating anything for what was 2 days now. But it was fine.
Today was one of the best days Miles had been a part of. He couldn't remember the last time he felt that light feeling in his chest as he ran around the beach, so he guessed that was important.
And the hedgehog… Miles had never seen someone like him before.
From what he had seen, the hedgehog seemed to be a strange character all around. His movements were spontaneous and carefree, not bothering regulating himself at all. He was confident, it seemed.
His fur had been way cleaner than it was when Miles first saw him. The blue of his quills making a nice contrast against the last rays of sun off in the distance. His eyes were an emerald-green as he searched around the perimeter, Miles could almost make out a few moments where they appeared to be glowing, most likely a trick of the light, though.
But his speed… that was what intrigued Miles the most.
It was incredible. The way he zoomed past everything like it was nothing, the fluidity in his movements as he moved around and the cyan blur he left behind…
Miles would be lying if he said he wasn't a little jealous.
The hedgehog was different, like him. But at the same time, he was nothing like Miles.
His speed was a resource, it could be used for all sorts of purposes, for helping people or pulling out fires as he demonstrated today. It was a tool.
His tails were nothing more than a burden. Always taking up space, always in the way of everything and always the reason he wasn't accepted.
Not for the first time, Miles asked the universe why it had given him two tails.
And as always, it gave no answer.
Sigh, at least they weren't entirely useless. They did help him store some light things in them and if he somehow managed to replicate what happened today and turned it into something reliable…
A yawn interrupted his train of thought. Yeah, that would be nice.
Miles went to sleep like most nights, with tails covering his body and an empty stomach.