I'm Stuck.
Oct. 22nd, 2009 08:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kippurbirdI'm stuck. I don't know where to go forward with this. ARGH
Nobody told Alan about the terror birds. The survey report mentioned a few mythological animals and what would be considered earth animals with what might be evolutionary modifications. Terror birds -to be scientific about it maybe some variation of a Titanis walleri-, were not on the report. Watching the three meter tall birds, that had the same body shape of an ostrich but with a beak that looked like it could crush a coconut like he could crush a peanut shell, but with spiky feathers that glossed like a hummingbird's, poke around his campsite Alan wondered if he should just give up now and portal back home. Of course the only problem with that idea was that there were five birds between him and the portal generator. Five very large and curious birds. He groaned as one of them managed to get into his tent. It stood up, ripping a hole in the top as it did so.
Maybe they would get bored and go away.
Inter-dimensional Survey Members didn't get weapons, of course. That could be considered provocative to the natives. The closest thing Alan had to a weapon was the tranq gun. But he was out of darts, which is why he'd been heading back to camp. The flock...? The flock of terror birds were not supposed to be there. They didn't seem to realize this as they chattered to themselves in high pitched squawks and squeaks. In fact they started to look far too comfortable, two of them settling down to preen their tiny wings.
Alan sighed and then perked up as the birds suddenly went from relaxed to alert. They gabbled at each other and then ran off as quick as their legs could carry them.
A rumbling noise told Alan why. Looking in the direction where they were running from he could see a cloud of dust rising up into the air. "Oh Jesus Christ on a pogo stick," he moaned.
The cows were coming.
Bovine actually. If you took a Texas longhorn, doped it up on steroids and added bony plates that is. The report did mention those, but it only said, "Bovines of unusual size and adaptations." Alan immediately started looking for cover. The herds often had two hundred members at least. He knew there was a ravine around somewhere. He could hide in that. Picking a hopeful direction, he started to run, vaguely wondering what started the stampede. A shadow flew over him and told him exactly what was causing the stampede.
The dragon, a mottled green and brown, roared over the herd. Its wings spread out wide, blocking out the sun, the dragon lazily over looked the herd before diving. In two claws it snatched up a pair of cows. So intent on watching this spectacle of the graceful dragon twisting back into the air, Alan completely missed the ravine he'd been looking for. One foot went down and then the rest of him. He tumbled against the rocks. His head slammed several times and he knew he must have broken something as scree followed him down covering him in dust and pebbles, choking the air and making it hard to breathe. When he finally came to a rest, his body aching every where with sharp pains, he could see the shadow of the dragon winging its way east. The last thing that he managed to think of was that it had to be at least fifty meters long.
When he woke up he heard some sort of gibberish above him. It sounded human. His mind went on a slight tangent about how they'd discovered that the humanoid here divided themselves up into three distinct groups. The anthropologist who did the report was a bit giddy at the time, if Alan remembered correctly. And maybe stoned. He missed bugs. He was supposed to be looking at bugs here. They had lovely insects on this world. Brilliant shimmering insects with bodies that looked like they were jewel encrusted. He could deal with insects. Not people. Yet here he was. He cracked opened his eyes a little. Yes. humans.
Alan had no idea what they were saying. They looked rather concerned though. The one looking at him was an adult female with dark skin and dark hair with multiple braids. She wore colorful clothing, a dress he thought, but from his position couldn't tell exactly. She said something, clearly expecting him to understand. It sounded like "Gre alaan tell brenan". It meant nothing to him. He wasn't a linguist! He shouldn't even be talking to these people. The rules forbid it. Rule sixteen point five paragraph a clearly stated that non-anthropologists were not to interact with any of the humanoid natives of a world least they contaminate their culture and society.To answer the woman he gave her his best "blank I have no idea what you're saying" expression. An easy thing for him to do, as he didn't.
The woman looked frustrated and she stood up, proving that she did indeed wore a dress. With her out of his sight he could easily see that he had no idea where he was. People moved in and out of his line of sight, also dressed in colorful clothing. Though they mostly had blond hair as opposed to the woman's black hair. Out of a group of about forty that Alan could see about fifteen appeared to be no older than nineteen. Out of those fifteen, half were under ten and were being sheperd about by one of the older pre-adults. None of them appeared to be paying any attention to him. A good thing, because he needed to get out of there.
A goat ambled past him. Again, like the cows it was bigger than Earth goats and covered in bony plates. It even had an extra set of horns curving from under its jaw. She had an extra set of horns. From his position he could see her udder. Four nipples just like an Earth goat. No, wait, teats. The woman came back, now with an older woman with the same hair style. Alan pegged her to be in her fifties, about twenty years older than the first woman. The second woman started to move her hands across his body, watching his face intently. Figuring that she was trying to see where it hurt, he let out small noises of pain when it did. From how it did hurt, he didn't think anything was seriously broken.
Good.
Then the woman twisted his foot and he let out a scream of pain so loud it startled the goats and caused the people around to stop and stare at him.
Not good.
Alan gasped for breath after the scream, panting hard and shuddering. The two women talked to each other rapidly, the older one gesturing to the foot sounding annoyed. The first woman shrugged and left again. He really wished he knew what was going on. He really wished even more that he was in the hands of the doctors back home and not these primitive people. At least they weren't trying to kill him, he supposed. He'd heard horror stories from other scientists and researchers about people who would run into the natives and be considered monsters or demons or sacrifices and barely made it out with their lives.
When he took the assignment he didn't think that sort of thing would be a problem. He would just be studying insects in the Robert Sanchez Plains a good ways away from any humanoid habitation. Sure there were roads near by, but if he stayed away from them he'd be able to study his insects in peace. At least that's what he thought. Reality thought otherwise. Why did he want this field job so badly again? He couldn't remember. Offices were safe. They didn't have terror birds or mutant cows or dragons or women who were going to doctor his foot and likely not do a good job of it at all.
Though, looking around, he did have to admit that they looked remarkably healthy. Even the few elders moved around easily. Their skin were free of blemishes and they had all their teeth, from what he could see. He wondered if he could pass out again. Since the woman twisted his foot, pain streaked up his leg like hot scratching fingernails. The physical equivalent of nails on a chalkboard. Trying not to whimper, Alan tried to think about what to do, since passing out didn't seem to be a viable option at the moment.
He needed to get back to his camp. If anything was left of it after the bovine stampeded over it. Stupid dragon panicking the herd into a stamped. But, he needed to get back to his camp and see what could be salvaged. Hopefully the portal generator would be intact. With that he could get home and get proper medical treatment. If he didn't get back to the camp with in two days or if his portal generator wasn't working the company would send in the search and recovery team. Those people scared Alan. Dressed in black camo suits and carrying guns, they'd fan out and search methodically for their missing quarry until the found it. Then they dragged it back to headquarters and it got worse from there. He did not wish to face an inquiry into his actions. So, he had to get back to the camp first.
The first woman reappeared, this time carrying a cup. Alan eyed it warily. He'd heard of these concoctions before. It'd likely put him to sleep - or give him the ability to understand what they were saying. He'd heard that one before from several fellow scientists. Though he really doubted it. Still, he didn't want to put any sort of foreign substance into his body. Especially not some 'herbal' remedies. The woman offered it to him gesturing that he should drink.
He shook his head, indicating that no way in Hell would he drink it.
She pushed it into his hands forcibly, trying to get him to drink.
He resisted.
She made an exasperated noise at her companion, who smacked him in the foot. At the scream he made, the first woman dumped the liquid down his throat. Despite all his efforts, Alan swallowed some of it. This led to the unconsciousness that he'd been hoping for earlier.
Nobody told Alan about the terror birds. The survey report mentioned a few mythological animals and what would be considered earth animals with what might be evolutionary modifications. Terror birds -to be scientific about it maybe some variation of a Titanis walleri-, were not on the report. Watching the three meter tall birds, that had the same body shape of an ostrich but with a beak that looked like it could crush a coconut like he could crush a peanut shell, but with spiky feathers that glossed like a hummingbird's, poke around his campsite Alan wondered if he should just give up now and portal back home. Of course the only problem with that idea was that there were five birds between him and the portal generator. Five very large and curious birds. He groaned as one of them managed to get into his tent. It stood up, ripping a hole in the top as it did so.
Maybe they would get bored and go away.
Inter-dimensional Survey Members didn't get weapons, of course. That could be considered provocative to the natives. The closest thing Alan had to a weapon was the tranq gun. But he was out of darts, which is why he'd been heading back to camp. The flock...? The flock of terror birds were not supposed to be there. They didn't seem to realize this as they chattered to themselves in high pitched squawks and squeaks. In fact they started to look far too comfortable, two of them settling down to preen their tiny wings.
Alan sighed and then perked up as the birds suddenly went from relaxed to alert. They gabbled at each other and then ran off as quick as their legs could carry them.
A rumbling noise told Alan why. Looking in the direction where they were running from he could see a cloud of dust rising up into the air. "Oh Jesus Christ on a pogo stick," he moaned.
The cows were coming.
Bovine actually. If you took a Texas longhorn, doped it up on steroids and added bony plates that is. The report did mention those, but it only said, "Bovines of unusual size and adaptations." Alan immediately started looking for cover. The herds often had two hundred members at least. He knew there was a ravine around somewhere. He could hide in that. Picking a hopeful direction, he started to run, vaguely wondering what started the stampede. A shadow flew over him and told him exactly what was causing the stampede.
The dragon, a mottled green and brown, roared over the herd. Its wings spread out wide, blocking out the sun, the dragon lazily over looked the herd before diving. In two claws it snatched up a pair of cows. So intent on watching this spectacle of the graceful dragon twisting back into the air, Alan completely missed the ravine he'd been looking for. One foot went down and then the rest of him. He tumbled against the rocks. His head slammed several times and he knew he must have broken something as scree followed him down covering him in dust and pebbles, choking the air and making it hard to breathe. When he finally came to a rest, his body aching every where with sharp pains, he could see the shadow of the dragon winging its way east. The last thing that he managed to think of was that it had to be at least fifty meters long.
When he woke up he heard some sort of gibberish above him. It sounded human. His mind went on a slight tangent about how they'd discovered that the humanoid here divided themselves up into three distinct groups. The anthropologist who did the report was a bit giddy at the time, if Alan remembered correctly. And maybe stoned. He missed bugs. He was supposed to be looking at bugs here. They had lovely insects on this world. Brilliant shimmering insects with bodies that looked like they were jewel encrusted. He could deal with insects. Not people. Yet here he was. He cracked opened his eyes a little. Yes. humans.
Alan had no idea what they were saying. They looked rather concerned though. The one looking at him was an adult female with dark skin and dark hair with multiple braids. She wore colorful clothing, a dress he thought, but from his position couldn't tell exactly. She said something, clearly expecting him to understand. It sounded like "Gre alaan tell brenan". It meant nothing to him. He wasn't a linguist! He shouldn't even be talking to these people. The rules forbid it. Rule sixteen point five paragraph a clearly stated that non-anthropologists were not to interact with any of the humanoid natives of a world least they contaminate their culture and society.To answer the woman he gave her his best "blank I have no idea what you're saying" expression. An easy thing for him to do, as he didn't.
The woman looked frustrated and she stood up, proving that she did indeed wore a dress. With her out of his sight he could easily see that he had no idea where he was. People moved in and out of his line of sight, also dressed in colorful clothing. Though they mostly had blond hair as opposed to the woman's black hair. Out of a group of about forty that Alan could see about fifteen appeared to be no older than nineteen. Out of those fifteen, half were under ten and were being sheperd about by one of the older pre-adults. None of them appeared to be paying any attention to him. A good thing, because he needed to get out of there.
A goat ambled past him. Again, like the cows it was bigger than Earth goats and covered in bony plates. It even had an extra set of horns curving from under its jaw. She had an extra set of horns. From his position he could see her udder. Four nipples just like an Earth goat. No, wait, teats. The woman came back, now with an older woman with the same hair style. Alan pegged her to be in her fifties, about twenty years older than the first woman. The second woman started to move her hands across his body, watching his face intently. Figuring that she was trying to see where it hurt, he let out small noises of pain when it did. From how it did hurt, he didn't think anything was seriously broken.
Good.
Then the woman twisted his foot and he let out a scream of pain so loud it startled the goats and caused the people around to stop and stare at him.
Not good.
Alan gasped for breath after the scream, panting hard and shuddering. The two women talked to each other rapidly, the older one gesturing to the foot sounding annoyed. The first woman shrugged and left again. He really wished he knew what was going on. He really wished even more that he was in the hands of the doctors back home and not these primitive people. At least they weren't trying to kill him, he supposed. He'd heard horror stories from other scientists and researchers about people who would run into the natives and be considered monsters or demons or sacrifices and barely made it out with their lives.
When he took the assignment he didn't think that sort of thing would be a problem. He would just be studying insects in the Robert Sanchez Plains a good ways away from any humanoid habitation. Sure there were roads near by, but if he stayed away from them he'd be able to study his insects in peace. At least that's what he thought. Reality thought otherwise. Why did he want this field job so badly again? He couldn't remember. Offices were safe. They didn't have terror birds or mutant cows or dragons or women who were going to doctor his foot and likely not do a good job of it at all.
Though, looking around, he did have to admit that they looked remarkably healthy. Even the few elders moved around easily. Their skin were free of blemishes and they had all their teeth, from what he could see. He wondered if he could pass out again. Since the woman twisted his foot, pain streaked up his leg like hot scratching fingernails. The physical equivalent of nails on a chalkboard. Trying not to whimper, Alan tried to think about what to do, since passing out didn't seem to be a viable option at the moment.
He needed to get back to his camp. If anything was left of it after the bovine stampeded over it. Stupid dragon panicking the herd into a stamped. But, he needed to get back to his camp and see what could be salvaged. Hopefully the portal generator would be intact. With that he could get home and get proper medical treatment. If he didn't get back to the camp with in two days or if his portal generator wasn't working the company would send in the search and recovery team. Those people scared Alan. Dressed in black camo suits and carrying guns, they'd fan out and search methodically for their missing quarry until the found it. Then they dragged it back to headquarters and it got worse from there. He did not wish to face an inquiry into his actions. So, he had to get back to the camp first.
The first woman reappeared, this time carrying a cup. Alan eyed it warily. He'd heard of these concoctions before. It'd likely put him to sleep - or give him the ability to understand what they were saying. He'd heard that one before from several fellow scientists. Though he really doubted it. Still, he didn't want to put any sort of foreign substance into his body. Especially not some 'herbal' remedies. The woman offered it to him gesturing that he should drink.
He shook his head, indicating that no way in Hell would he drink it.
She pushed it into his hands forcibly, trying to get him to drink.
He resisted.
She made an exasperated noise at her companion, who smacked him in the foot. At the scream he made, the first woman dumped the liquid down his throat. Despite all his efforts, Alan swallowed some of it. This led to the unconsciousness that he'd been hoping for earlier.
