You kick on the thrusters and the board jerks forward but you manage to keep your balance. You lean forward and hold out your arms in a pose that's both practical for balance and assuredly badass to anyone who would hypothetically be watching your noble rescue from afar.
You feel like a superhero, cutting through the air like this, unbound by gravity! Much like your beloved Spider-Girl, albeit male--though that idea is completely without novelty and would undoubtedly pale in comparison to the original.
You're brilliance, you're dashing heroics, you're the young and the reckless, the brazen and the bold!
You cut over the edge of the canyon where Dirk had taken his tumble due to a surprise interference from a group of those atrocious skeleton creatures. You'd managed to blast the skull off of the last of them and in a split second decision grabbed Dirk's discarded rocket board. Dirk has been teaching you how to ride the bally thing due to your insistence, because fuck did Dirk ever look cool riding it.
You finally catch sight of Dirk's flailing body down below you, and you quickly angle the rocket board downwards into a dive. The rocky scene of the canyon blurs into colors as you speed towards your falling target, keeping an eye on the fluttering blotch of white that constitutes the contrast of Dirk's body against the ragged rock bottom.
You'll save him the moment before he bashes his head bloody against the rocks--just the right amount of tension to keep the audiences on the edge of their seats!
You get closer and closer, narrowing your focus for the final catch. Once you get close enough you reach out an arm an hook it around Dirk's waist before sharply changing the angle of your descent and kicking the rocket board up into an ascent.
Once out of the canyon you bring the board down until its hovering just above the grass, before you hop off it onto the ground.
Dirk seems unusually limp in your arms, but you figure maybe he's still in shock so you crouch and lay him down onto the grass so you can give him the once over once you pop the rocket board into your own sylladex. You cast about for any more of the skeletons lying in wait, but all you see are the piles of mossy bones and cracked skulls of the beasts you dispatched moments early. Convinced that the coast is clear, you crouch back down next to Dirk.
It's only at this moment that you notice the queer twist of his chin.
It occupies your attention, holding it rapt for a moment because it's just so odd and not particularly Dirk-like. And he stranger still he seems to be holding it that way, at that peculiar angle. Wrenched off to the side and just a tad tilted up.
Dirk also really tends to move a lot more. A lot more than nothing, which is the precise amount he's moving right now.
You creep closer, folding forward on all fours as you gently begin to nudge at Dirk. His head shifts a bit, like his neck is made of wet noodles.
By then you've started to realize exactly what you've done.
Dirk, eyes. Flat. Dull. Done.
Cracked. Snapped. Struck dumb--
--Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Oh God you are so stupid.
Foolish. Reckless. Reckless, wrecked, wrong.
You whimper like a lost puppy, gently prodding Dirk's shoulder, trying to encourage him back into consciousness.
Oh you know it, oh Christ you know it, you know he's gone and you're stricken. Reduced to the most basic reactions, all rational thinking flown out the window.
You scrub your eyes with your sleeves before curling in on yourself, hands folded over the back of your neck.
Your name is Jake English, and you just killed your best friend.
What will you do?