[ Ian Wavewalker had been a lot of things in his life; an outcast, a pirate, a friend and brother, an unintentional hero, an errand boy for the god of death, and now, a prisoner. (Speaking of the god of death, once Ian got back to his own plain of existence, he was going to have to have a talk with his good friend and employer.)
It had all began a few hours ago. Ian had been chasing a couple of lost souls- literal lost souls, all part of the job of working for Gatekeeper- running full-tilt through the jungle when he felt a subtle shift in reality. It was as though everything just sort of slid slightly off-kilter, and though the jungle had not physically changed, the smells and the sounds were all suddenly different. Ian had to wonder if he’d shifted locations or realities altogether. (Gatekeeper had hinted more than once about being the guardian of more than just the Gate between this life and the next. Perhaps he walked in different worlds as well?) But whatever had happened, he was no longer where he started, and his senses had lost all trace of the souls he was chasing.
It was dark, but the moon was full and bright, more than enough to light his way as he tread cautiously through the brush. It was then he came face to face with her- an Old One, as his people called them. Her scales were dark, though he caught the slightest hint of blue in the moonlight, and her eyes bright. The Raptori and the raptor eyed each other for some time. Ian had never seen an Old One before. They were the stuff of books and stories, clever and vicious, but long gone. She was surely intelligent- he could see it in the way she looked at him, the way she scented the air, and recognized him as Kin- but she didn’t possess the ability to speak.
But then something else was moving through the forest, and the Old One bolted for cover. Ian thought it wise to do much of the same, and took to the treetops. Men in strange outfits with strange weapons and devices appeared. He could understand their speech well enough, and he guessed they were looking for the Old One. Hunters of some kind?
One of the machines beeped, and the man holding it said something about a thermal reading, whatever that was, and the others gathered around his device. What is that? one breathed, and Ian knew he had been found somehow. He didn’t get far before something sharp pricked into his shoulder, and he felt suddenly sluggish. He tore the offending dart out of his shoulder as he bounded through the trees, but more followed, and it was quickly becoming a losing battle. He had enough time and enough foresight to wedge his clothes, glasses, and weapons in the fork some tree branches before they finally brought him down. Let them think him some wild animal, like the Old One.
It was a charade he kept up with when he woke. He wouldn’t let anyone near him, charging the bars of his cage, snarling and growling and swiping his claws. He didn’t speak to the men who came to look at him. They wondered whose “project” he was. They wondered about “military applications”. They wondered if he could understand them. Oh, if only they knew. These men- InGen was the word emblazoned on their clothes, though he didn’t know what that meant- weren’t about to let him go. Not even if he stood and spoke to them. (He got the feeling especially not then.) Better to play dumb.
[ Owen has no idea when InGen became staffed with idiots, but it had to have happened between Masrani's acquisition of the genetics company and the moment someone had some sort of fever dream to put together a cocktail of all the scariest shit the prehistoric world had to offer. So when an InGen representative had tracked him down, told him they needed his help, he couldn't have hung up any faster.
Until the second time. And then the third.
The fourth time, the representative managed to get out the word "raptor," and while that gave Owen pause, he still hung up, all the same.
After that, Owen did something very, very stupid. It involved chartering a boat. It involved slinging a gun over his shoulder, holstering a pistol to his hip. It involved dark clothes and sneaking onto a private island in the dead of night. His good judgment always did lapse when it came to his raptors.
He's not entirely sure what he plans to do here, honestly. Owen is usually a practical man, usually knows the right course of action to take given the odds. But this time, all he has is a vague sense that he has to do something.Military applications, they had kept saying. As if Blue were a weapon they could simply aim and shoot. As if the raptor would listen to any blowhard high on his own machismo. A lot of men would get hurt in her capture, which a sadistic part of him thinks they deserve; but Blue could get hurt in her recapture, as well, and that he can't really abide.
When he finds their main camp, he stays well out of sight, using the foliage to conceal himself. The place is abuzz with activity, with puzzled, excited chattering about breakthroughs and hybrids and scientific miracles. There's a patrol circling around one tent in particular, though it's routine and lazy, more for appearances than actual guarding. It's easy enough for Owen to time the blind spot in their trek, to wrench out one of the stakes and roll beneath the loosened flap, and all of it in near silence.
The area inside of the tent is spacious and lit brightly; there are only a few cages here, though most of them empty. No Blue, and that comes as a relief.
Definitely something else, though, and Owen stops in his tracks when he finds it. ]
[ Ah, now there's an unfamiliar voice. Ian glances up from where he sits in the corner, blinking owlishly at this intruder with green eyes.
He notices this man's clothes lack the logo he's come to know and resent so much. That might be a plus. But still, he holds his tongue, cautiously standing. He's never been especially tall, but he remains half-crouched as he edges for the bars ]
Owen remains where he is, half-crouched, himself, and staring at the creature warily. InGen project, like the Indominus rex? He approaches slowly to examine it more closely. When he speaks, it's in a murmur to himself, ]
Thankfully, Owen takes this new development with surprising aplomb, merely tensing and narrowing his eyes. Then, as if he can't quite believe it even having witnessed it, ]
So. Clearly an intelligent creature, and he doubts InGen has worked their way up to cooking up something this self-aware that could learn speech. Something else, then.
... ... ... Okay.
He knows most of the cages back in the park were controlled by touch pads, usually warranting some sort of pass code. Owen's surprised when he finds this one is a simply lock and key affair; he guesses that this InGen operation is either a low budget affair, or else the disaster at the park had taken a huge toll.
Luckily, a ring of keys sits on a table near the front of the tent, and Owen snatches it, still moving as quietly as possible, putting his old military training to good use. It takes a few tries, but eventually he finds the right key for Ian's cage, and he opens the door for him. ]
I do. I can see you just fine, but across the room, things start to get a bit blurry.
[ yes, Owen. The raptor man is near-sighted ] I also have clothes and weapons I stashed before I was captured. I thought it best to play dumb, as it were.
[ He jerks his head toward the back of the tent before kneeling beside the opening he had made himself. He checks his watch, doing the mental math for when the next blindspot in the patrol should be. ]
C'mon. We need to be quick. Stay close.
[ Which is all he says before he he's rolling back out and hurrying back to the cover of the jungle. ]
[ "Quick" is Ian's middle name. (Okay, he doesn't actually have a middle name, but if he did it would have something to do with how fast he is.) He lacks the sheer size of his fellow Raptori, and has had to make up for it with speed and agility.
So he's right on Owen's heels, footfalls oddly silent as he runs. ]
[ They reach cover just as the the soldier rounds the corner, walking around the tent in slow, lazy strides. Once Owen leads them some distance away out of earshot, he finally addresses the elephant in the room: ]
In all seriousness, I'm a Raptori. I was not created in some laboratory, I was raised in a Raptori village, with a dozen or so nestmates. Just and you and your kind descended from primates, me and mine descended from the Old Ones- dinosaurs, I think you call them.
The truth of the matter is I'm not entirely sure myself. I was running along, everything sort of shifted, and I found myself face-to-face with an Old One.
[ He pauses, head tilted upward, nostrils flaring, before heading off further into the trees. ]
If I were a halfway decent Raptori, it would have been quite the religious experience.
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pullmeoutalive2014-06-27 11:45 pm
no subject
It had all began a few hours ago. Ian had been chasing a couple of lost souls- literal lost souls, all part of the job of working for Gatekeeper- running full-tilt through the jungle when he felt a subtle shift in reality. It was as though everything just sort of slid slightly off-kilter, and though the jungle had not physically changed, the smells and the sounds were all suddenly different. Ian had to wonder if he’d shifted locations or realities altogether. (Gatekeeper had hinted more than once about being the guardian of more than just the Gate between this life and the next. Perhaps he walked in different worlds as well?) But whatever had happened, he was no longer where he started, and his senses had lost all trace of the souls he was chasing.
It was dark, but the moon was full and bright, more than enough to light his way as he tread cautiously through the brush. It was then he came face to face with her- an Old One, as his people called them. Her scales were dark, though he caught the slightest hint of blue in the moonlight, and her eyes bright. The Raptori and the raptor eyed each other for some time. Ian had never seen an Old One before. They were the stuff of books and stories, clever and vicious, but long gone. She was surely intelligent- he could see it in the way she looked at him, the way she scented the air, and recognized him as Kin- but she didn’t possess the ability to speak.
But then something else was moving through the forest, and the Old One bolted for cover. Ian thought it wise to do much of the same, and took to the treetops. Men in strange outfits with strange weapons and devices appeared. He could understand their speech well enough, and he guessed they were looking for the Old One. Hunters of some kind?
One of the machines beeped, and the man holding it said something about a thermal reading, whatever that was, and the others gathered around his device. What is that? one breathed, and Ian knew he had been found somehow. He didn’t get far before something sharp pricked into his shoulder, and he felt suddenly sluggish. He tore the offending dart out of his shoulder as he bounded through the trees, but more followed, and it was quickly becoming a losing battle. He had enough time and enough foresight to wedge his clothes, glasses, and weapons in the fork some tree branches before they finally brought him down. Let them think him some wild animal, like the Old One.
It was a charade he kept up with when he woke. He wouldn’t let anyone near him, charging the bars of his cage, snarling and growling and swiping his claws. He didn’t speak to the men who came to look at him. They wondered whose “project” he was. They wondered about “military applications”. They wondered if he could understand them. Oh, if only they knew. These men- InGen was the word emblazoned on their clothes, though he didn’t know what that meant- weren’t about to let him go. Not even if he stood and spoke to them. (He got the feeling especially not then.) Better to play dumb.
Better to wait for the right human. ]
no subject
Until the second time. And then the third.
The fourth time, the representative managed to get out the word "raptor," and while that gave Owen pause, he still hung up, all the same.
After that, Owen did something very, very stupid. It involved chartering a boat. It involved slinging a gun over his shoulder, holstering a pistol to his hip. It involved dark clothes and sneaking onto a private island in the dead of night. His good judgment always did lapse when it came to his raptors.
He's not entirely sure what he plans to do here, honestly. Owen is usually a practical man, usually knows the right course of action to take given the odds. But this time, all he has is a vague sense that he has to do something. Military applications, they had kept saying. As if Blue were a weapon they could simply aim and shoot. As if the raptor would listen to any blowhard high on his own machismo. A lot of men would get hurt in her capture, which a sadistic part of him thinks they deserve; but Blue could get hurt in her recapture, as well, and that he can't really abide.
When he finds their main camp, he stays well out of sight, using the foliage to conceal himself. The place is abuzz with activity, with puzzled, excited chattering about breakthroughs and hybrids and scientific miracles. There's a patrol circling around one tent in particular, though it's routine and lazy, more for appearances than actual guarding. It's easy enough for Owen to time the blind spot in their trek, to wrench out one of the stakes and roll beneath the loosened flap, and all of it in near silence.
The area inside of the tent is spacious and lit brightly; there are only a few cages here, though most of them empty. No Blue, and that comes as a relief.
Definitely something else, though, and Owen stops in his tracks when he finds it. ]
... What the hell?
no subject
He notices this man's clothes lack the logo he's come to know and resent so much. That might be a plus. But still, he holds his tongue, cautiously standing. He's never been especially tall, but he remains half-crouched as he edges for the bars ]
no subject
This.
Is new.
Owen remains where he is, half-crouched, himself, and staring at the creature warily. InGen project, like the Indominus rex? He approaches slowly to examine it more closely. When he speaks, it's in a murmur to himself, ]
What did they cook up this time?
no subject
He's taking a risk here, he knows, but this fellow clearly did not show up here with an invitation. ]
Can you get me out of here?
no subject
what the shit.
Thankfully, Owen takes this new development with surprising aplomb, merely tensing and narrowing his eyes. Then, as if he can't quite believe it even having witnessed it, ]
... You can talk.
no subject
More than that, but I'd much prefer not to discuss the finer details right here.
So, can you or can you not get me out of here?
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Only if you tell me who or what you are. [ He doesn't want to unwittingly release some sort of killing machine, after all. ]
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It's really rather convoluted, but I'd rather not get into it with so many people traipsing around outside.
no subject
[ ... Okay.
So. Clearly an intelligent creature, and he doubts InGen has worked their way up to cooking up something this self-aware that could learn speech. Something else, then.
... ... ... Okay.
He knows most of the cages back in the park were controlled by touch pads, usually warranting some sort of pass code. Owen's surprised when he finds this one is a simply lock and key affair; he guesses that this InGen operation is either a low budget affair, or else the disaster at the park had taken a huge toll.
Luckily, a ring of keys sits on a table near the front of the tent, and Owen snatches it, still moving as quietly as possible, putting his old military training to good use. It takes a few tries, but eventually he finds the right key for Ian's cage, and he opens the door for him. ]
You hurt at all?
no subject
Nothing that hasn't already healed. I am at a slight disadvantage without my glasses, however.
[ Honestly, he says it as much as a warning and as much to see what the reaction will be. ]
no subject
You wear glasses.
[ He says it flatly, half-statement, half question. ]
no subject
[ yes, Owen. The raptor man is near-sighted ] I also have clothes and weapons I stashed before I was captured. I thought it best to play dumb, as it were.
no subject
Okay.
... Okay.
For a moment he just. Nods. Then, ]
Any idea where your stuff is? We should find it before they do.
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We should make haste. Someone usually comes in around this time to feed me, and I'd rather we had a head start when they discover I'm gone.
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C'mon. We need to be quick. Stay close.
[ Which is all he says before he he's rolling back out and hurrying back to the cover of the jungle. ]
no subject
So he's right on Owen's heels, footfalls oddly silent as he runs. ]
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So. What are you, exactly?
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[ Stop being cheeky, Ian. ]
In all seriousness, I'm a Raptori. I was not created in some laboratory, I was raised in a Raptori village, with a dozen or so nestmates. Just and you and your kind descended from primates, me and mine descended from the Old Ones- dinosaurs, I think you call them.
Obviously we don't exist here.
no subject
[ yeah. Obviously. ]
You wanna explain to me how the hell you found yourself here, then?
no subject
[ He pauses, head tilted upward, nostrils flaring, before heading off further into the trees. ]
If I were a halfway decent Raptori, it would have been quite the religious experience.
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You're saying you saw a raptor? Do you remember where?
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Suppose I did. What would you do with that information?
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You know, I don't believe I ever got your name.
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