This is probably the fourth or fifth time I've attempted to write a Jurassic Park story from Muldoon's POV. The first one I tried was when I was 12, the most recent was a story I had up here maybe four years ago and I thought it was a decent story…then I read it again a few years later and was like, "KILL IT WITH FIRE"…but I digress…my brother just recently bought me Jurassic Park/World Lego for the Xbox and I finished it for the second time in five months and the whole thing put me in a very Jurassic Park-y mood. I'm in college with a buttload of work every day and yet when I procrastinate, I write or sketch, so this is me procrastinating. I hope to finish it and not leave it hanging, but if there's long bouts between chapters, I apologize. Hell, I'm even procrastinating my Walking Dead and Harry Potter stories, and have a long-standing in-progress Lord of the Rings fic.

Anyway, here's a JP from Robert Muldoon's (and perhaps some OCs as well) POV with some other familiar characters. Imagine if JP had opened and was as successful as JW (for those who've seen the fourth film).

/ /

"Now, didn't I tell you that you worried all for nothing, Robert?" asked John Hammond as he and Robert stood overlooking the park from the Needle.

"I wouldn't say for nothing. It never hurt anyone to be cautious."

"It's only been bad for morale. Robert, my boy, it wouldn't hurt you to be optimistic for once. Look at how far we've come in the past two years alone: from an idea on paper to a reality."

Robert saw the tourists below, all of them reduced to ants from the height of the Needle. None of them cared that Jurassic Park had two-hundred guards whose sole purpose was to monitor the dinosaurs around the clock to ensure maximum safety at all times. None of those people knew how Robert had fought Hammond every step of the way to make the park herbivore-exclusive or that even now after four years of watching the park build from the ground up and thrive, Robert wished he could have talked Hammond out of the whole thing. Dinosaurs were best left to the dust, long forgotten in the ground where only their skeletons were reconstructed instead of their living counterparts. The beasts were not meant for the world the way it was now with thousands of people milling in from all over the world to crowd in front of them, gawk at them, and snap endless photos.

If Robert had any sense at all, he would have quit long before now, but he did take pride in his work and he considered himself one of the best in his line of work. The job of head game warden in the world's grandest and most dangerous zoo was one he entrusted to no one else, not even the men and women who worked under him and who he had come to respect, even trust with his life. Some of them shared his distaste for the idea of reincarnating an extinct species while others saw it as a welcome challenge to learn about the dinosaurs and train them. But those who were with him now had not been present when the park suffered its first (and thankfully only) casualty. None of his companions now were there when Joffrey had been disemboweled mere feet from Robert who could do nothing but try to tug the man free. Those men who had been on the premises during the incident all put in their resignations within the next few weeks. Robert was the only one left.

"I'll tell you what, Robert, tonight marks the three year birthday of Noona—"

"I know."

"The park's been promoting it for months now and the turnout was more than I could have hoped for. The vice president is even going to put in an appearance. I know you have paddock duty, but I'll arrange for someone to cover for you and I want you to just walk amongst the crowd during the countdown. See for yourself the wonder and excitement and appreciation these people have for what we've done. Maybe then you'll finally be convinced that you did the right thing."

"I walk amongst the people every day, John, I don't need to stand around at a ceremony for a triceratops to see that. I just think that it may be time for me to return to my roots and go back to overseeing predictable animals."

"Kenya's gotten on quite well without you these past few years, and it can manage for a long while yet. I know you, Robert, and you'd never forgive yourself for leaving if something were to happen—"

"So you finally admit that every day there is the high likelihood of something going wrong?" asked Robert.

"No, I'm simply stating that with how you are, you'll be back in Kenya with your mind still in Jurassic Park and you'll never be able to rest knowing that I put someone else in charge. Until the day you retire, your mind will always be here."

"And I don't thank you for that. I can never retire. I have to keep this job until I die."

"You're being melodramatic. Tonight, Triceratops Town eight o'clock sharp. Bring a friend."

"You're hilarious, John."

Robert left the old man standing at the observation deck as he jabbed the button for the lift to take him back to the bottom floor. As the glass doors slid shut, Robert heard the roar of the main attraction and felt the lift shudder ever so slightly. When he reached ground level, he felt that the lift could not have gotten him down quickly enough and made a mental note to check with the tech overseer to make sure that the thing was up to speed. Checking his watch, he saw that he still had fifteen minutes until his lunch break was over, and so he made for the open-service restaurant tucked into the corner of east wing by the bathrooms and the photo pick-up center.

A young man was on duty; he was about twenty-two years old and he had a baseball cap with the likeness of a brachiosaurus on it. He was arranging the straws at the grab-and-go utensil stand by color with a look of complete boredom on his face.

"Better not let Keenan catch you mucking around," Robert warned and the young man snapped to attention before seeing who his customer was and relaxing with a scowl.

"Don't sneak up on me like that," said Rhett.

"Well, I'd help myself to what's behind the counter, but I wouldn't want to deprive you of the opportunity to serve a customer."

Rhett flipped him the middle finger and slid across the counter between the register and the cardboard cutout of a cartoon brachiosaurus.

"You know that's unsanitary," Robert pointed out.

"Oh, piss off. I'm lucky if I get two people a day. The only reason anyone stops here is to screw around with the utensils or use a napkin to wipe their kid's boogers. I don't know why Hammond doesn't just close this place and put me somewhere else where I could be more useful."

"Doing what?"

"Anything but this," said Rhett wistfully. "I thought there'd be more to it than this. It's been almost three years since Tobias and Marx came to work here and both of them got the jobs that everyone always talks about, then you've got the kid brother who works at the dump near the dump."

"Your brothers had jobs before this though, Rhett. They were doing this sort of thing when you were born and that's how they became qualified to work in the fields that they do. It's only because of their work ethic that Hammond agreed to hire on such a young person for a job here anyway. You hardly had to work for it, so be grateful that at least you're on the island without having to pay for it. And trust me when I say that none of the other jobs here merit that much glory. The attractions make all the humans running the park invisible to the public eye."

"One of my brothers is a game keeper and the other trains the show animals and I work at the Brach Snack Shack. You tell me how I'm supposed to be happy with that."

"Because if you didn't, you'd be working some low-end 9-5 job in Idaho, living in a one-bedroom apartment and eating Ramen Noodles every night for dinner. It could be a lot worse, kid. Now, fix me a burger."

/ /

Ten men stood on watch duty around the raptor paddock, monitoring their every move and preparing to fire a fatal shot at millions of dollars' worth of prehistoric savagery at the first sign of aggression towards the handlers. Robert saw two of his good friends, one of them being Rhett's brother. As he climbed onto the catwalk, Robert heard what the handlers had named "the raptor purr" below. He didn't know why, but every time he came by for his shift, the raptors communicated like this to each other.

"How's the pack?" he asked the nearest guard, Jay Kendrick.

"Quiet for the most part," said Jay. "Violet started digging again, so we had to call Tobias out to lure her off. If ever a raptor took interest in a human, it's him. He never even said anything; just came up onto the walkway, blew on his whistle to get her attention, and went off to the containment area and she followed him."

"Probably because he smells like every other dinosaur on the island."

"Or maybe you could give him credit for his job and admit that he's managed to make a connection with some of these animals," said Jay darkly.

"You cannot establish a connection with these things, especially raptors. They have no emotion; they only co-exist with other raptors for survival because they're pack hunters. The fact that they're siblings doesn't account for anything. If we left them to die in this paddock, they'd resort to eating each other."

"Working with you is the worst part of my day, dude. You just suck the happiness out of everything."

"I'm an alarmist, mate, it pays to be wary. And if you ask me, the raptors probably have Tobias marked; they don't give a damn about making a connection with him. From what we've observed coupled with what paleontologists predicted, raptors target their prey and focus on it entirely every time it's in sight. If the raptors are giving Tobias that much attention, they're probably looking at him like he's lunch."

"Don't let him hear you say that or he'll never come back," said Tobias's younger brother, Marx.

"Don't let me hear what?"

Jay gave Robert a reproachful look as Tobias came onto the catwalk, looking down into the paddock as if he expected to see something there. "I knew it," he muttered as he leaned further out to stare at an item directly underneath him.

"Do not tell me that you dropped something valuable down there," said Robert, following Tobias's gaze.

"If by valuable you mean my wallet with my car keys, IDs, credit cards, and access codes, then yes, I dropped something valuable," said Tobias as he squatted down on the catwalk and rested his head against the railing, swearing under his breath.

"All of those can be replaced. It'll take a few days of processing, but Hammond can get you spares in the meantime and reimburse you with anything you—"

"Marx, go get me the extension pole," said Tobias, ignoring Robert completely.

"No, Marx, leave the extension pole right where it is," said Robert, snapping his fingers at the younger brother. "Tobias, if this were a herbivore pen, I wouldn't have any problems with you fishing something out, but as it so happens, it's a raptor pen, the worst place to drop something, and by now they'll have smelled your scent on it, matched it with you, and laid out a plan to ambush or trick you into getting it back. Leave it."

"I know raptors are somewhere between dolphins and primates with intelligence, Robert, but even they can't be that smart. Besides, if I use an extension pole, they can't do a damn thing about it. I can grab it while they're sleeping."

"They're not sleeping, dude; as soon as you came back here they woke up," said Jay. "They're sitting in the bushes there, waiting for you to do something. Been watching you since you stepped onto the catwalk."

"I'm with Robert on this one, bro," said Marx apprehensively. "It's just a wallet."

"Just a wallet with all of my information in it that allows me to do my job and I can't even get back into my room if I don't have what's in there. If you're going to pussy out on me, give me the damn pole and I'll do it myself."

"I'll escort you off of the premises if you want to go that route, mate," said Robert.

"You're more than welcome to—after I get my wallet."

"Or, I could just punch you in the nose right now."

Tobias snatched up the extension pole and was just maneuvering it into place when Robert heard it again: the raptor purr. For all of his talk concerning how clever the raptors were, Robert had yet to actually see them work together as a pack in taking out prey. He was curious to the point of it being a fault.

"Tobias, hold out the pole like you're going to lower it into the paddock."

"I am going to lower it into the paddock."

"Hold it, don't lower it. I want to test something."

Tobias let the extension out to full length so that it was parallel to the ground and ever so slightly lowered it. Six raptors shot out of the foliage, snapping at the pole and Tobias who quickly reeled the pole in and swore.

"Damn," said Jay in an undertone. "They were legit waiting for you, dude. If you'd gotten that pole any lower, they could've whipped you right off the catwalk."

Robert tuned out Tobias and Marx making arrangements for how to have the contents of Tobias's wallet replaced as he looked down at the paddock's occupants. To avoid confusion, all of the animals in Jurassic Park had had trackers inserted into them at birth that were also equipped with numbers, letters, and colors to differentiate between them, especially in large herds of gallimimus or pterandons. But since the public viewed the herds as herds rather than individuals, they more or less looked the same. Raptors, on the other hand, had to be distinguishable from one another, and so the scientists had injected pigments into the embryos to color-code one raptor from another.

The raptors not only had colors to set them apart, but personalities, which helped Robert identify the troublemakers and the more passive ones. It also helped that Hammond had given up trying to make all the dinosaurs exclusively female so that there was a difference in gender. Violet was a troublemaker and had to be called away from spots where she insisted on digging at least three times a week. The smallest of the pack was Jett, so named for the mostly black stripes covering his back, and he would play a game with the handlers of following directly under them as they walked above him, sometimes spinning in circles like a dog chasing its tail; a very dangerous, evil-looking dog. Hazel and Crystal were the most subdued of the siblings with green and white spots on the crests of their heads and they were the ones who would snap at their brother Red who was the most rambunctious and disobedient. Red was the beta of the siblings, right behind Silver who had the same colored marks around his eyes as well as a silver-tipped tail. Silver was the one who ate first, went to bed last, and always came out to look at Robert whenever he appeared on the catwalk.

"Why does he look at you like that?" asked Marx, seeing what Robert was focusing on.

"Because I'm food," said Robert. "And I'm a hunter, like him, so he sees me as a worthy adversary. If he was given the chance to stalk me, I would be the most well-earned meal he's ever had."

Walking back to his bungalow, Robert tried to shake off the feeling of Silver's eyes on him. In Kenya, Robert had been hunted by large cats of all sizes and chased off by elephants, rhinos, and crocodiles, but none of them had that distinctive look that Silver had. Silver was not just watching Robert; he was marking him for extinction. And to think that Hammond could not understand this or had no time for it when there were such things to be celebrated as a triceratops's birthday…