Park 2 of the, thus far, four part Draconic Park/World series with Sousuke Tenki
Acknowledgments: All The Lost World: Jurassic Park, Tangled, HTTYD, Frozen, Rise of the Guardians, Wreck-It-Ralph and other movies' contents are all own by the respective owners.
A Tangled World: Draconic Park II
Introduction: Isla Santa Site B
It has been six years since InGen shutdown Draconic Park on Isla Dreki. 87 miles south west of it is the island of Isla Santa. A Yacht is not far from the shore, while on the beach a few men dressed in white cruise-line uniforms, but more upper-crust are preparing the luncheon for their employers. As one is pouring two class of a fine white wine a woman's voice is heard, "Thank you so much, that looks fabulous. Thank you Geoffrey."
A man's voice is heard in reply, "You're welcomed."
"We'll also take a bottle of red as well, thank you." the woman says as the white wine bottle is put in something to keep it chilled. A hand takes the glass that was just poured and it is taken to man reading while reclining in a very fancy beach chair, as the woman's voice is again heard "Right now..."
As the glass is handed to man reading, "Thank you, Barry." the man says to man handing him the wine.
"You're welcome, sir." the server says.
At this time another man in the uniform delivers to a young girl what looks like a small sandwich.
"Thank you." the girls says, accepting the sandwich and starting to walk away along the beach and passes a table set for lunch.
The woman's voice is heard again, "That looks wonderful. A beautiful day." She, the woman is dressed in a peach-pink sundress and she stands at the table looking at it. She turns to see the little girl passing, "Sweetie, where are you going?" she asks the girl.
"To eat my sandwich" the girl answers.
"You'll ruin your appetite. We've having prawns, your favorite." The woman says as the girl continues to walk along the shore.
"I don't like prawns." The girl counters, she actually likes prawns but right now she just wants to enjoy her sandwich.
"Now Darling don't wander off." the woman says to the girl.
"For God's sake, leave her alone, Deirdre." The man calls out, to him this is not an issue that there needs to be an argument over.
"Sweet heart, why don't you play with your ball." Dierdre suggests.
"Don't be so annoying!" the girl says and walks off.
Dierdre turns and walks to where her husband is, "Darling, what about snakes?"
Almost dismissively, the man replies, "There aren't any snakes on the beach. Just let her enjoy herself for once."
Dierdre goes to where the white wine is being chilled, she's about to pour herself a glass but she stops. "Edward?" She says.
"Yes, ma'am?" Edward replies.
The little girl skips along the shore, humming to herself. She starts to go a little farther inland. Just as she passes a few plants growing under a tree, she barely notices it moves, but she does and she also hears something. She turns and from the undergrowth a Terrible Terror jumps out. "Well, hello there," the girl says to the Terror. She kneels no to the ground, "What are you, some sort of strange lizard or something?" she asks. The Terror comes closer to her. "Are you hungry? Here take a bite. Its roast beef." the girl says as she offers some of her sandwich.
"It's good, come on. I won't hurt you." The Terror accepts the meat. "Mommy! Daddy! You've got to come see this! I found something!" She shouts turning away from the Terror. As she turns back she notices more of the Terrors. She almost jumps to her feet and as the tiny dragons begin to surround her she tries to back away.
Back at the table as the meal is served, "Cathy, darling, lunch is ready!" the woman calls out.
Back at the spot, Cathy tries to get away calmly, "Are you looking at this?" she asks, referring to her sandwich. "I'm afraid there isn't enough to go around." one of the Terrors jumps at her and she throws her sandwich. She screams.
Back at luncheon spot, they hear the screams. Dierdre turning to her husband asks, "Paul?"
"Cathy?" Paul asks. They still hear the screams. And they all bolt.
"Will you hurry up?" Dierdre shouts, but she really doesn't need to say so as they all over take her. She is the last to see the scene and presses her hands to the sides of her face and screams.
Ch. 1 This is a rescue mission
Almost Three Days later, in the Boardroom of InGen photos are presented to the board members, a woman's voice is heard, "These pictures were taken in a hospital in Costa Rica, 48 hours ago." all the people turn to see a woman in her forties with gray eyes and long curly raven hair, "Apparently a British family on a yacht cruise stumbled upon Site B and elected to have luncheon there. The little girl will be physically fine, her parents, however, are well... angry. They are seeking restitution. Sadly that's hardly news to us. Here is a partial list of the wrongful death settlement and other expenses: The family of Pitch Black, $36.5 million; Family of Drago Bludvist, $12.6 million; Breach of contract with Walt Arendelle $24.8 million; Damaged or destroyed equipment, $17.3 million; Demolition, deconstruction and disposal of Isla Dreki facilities, organic and inorganic $126 million; Salvaging of select assets and storage, $250 million. The list goes on, ladies and gentlemen- research funding, both originally from InGen and acquired from Biosyn, media payoffs, political gray-mail..." She stops stacking the folders and looks to the board members. She knows she's close to having them.
She continues, "While there is no denying that the truth will cost a pretty penny. Silence is where the real expense lies." She pauses to let the board members take in what she said. After a few seconds, "Well this madness must stop, now. Members of the board, this corporation has been bleeding from the throat for the last six years. You have sat patiently and listened to ecology lectures, while Nicholas St. North signed your checks and spent your money. You watched your stocks value drop from $78.25 per share to $19 flat with no good end in sight. And all along, we have held significant product assets which we attempt to hide at great expense when we could harvest those assets with minimal cost and display them for profit. Enormous profit. Enough income to wipe out six years of lawsuits and damage control and unpleasant infighting with-in a quarter. But the one thing, the only thing standing in the way between us and this windfall is a born-again naturalist that happens to be both our majority-share holder and CEO. Believe me, I don't enjoy having to say these things about my own uncle. But Mother Nature doesn't pay my salary, you do."
She pauses and takes out a piece of paper, she reads from it out loud, "Whereas the CEO has engaged in wasteful and negligent business practices to farther his own personal beliefs, whereas these actions have affected the finances of the company by incurring significant losses, whereas the shareholders have been materially harm by these losses—Thereby, be it resolved that Nicholas St. North should be removed from the office of CEO effective immediately. I move the resolution be put to a vote, do I have a second?"
"I second the motion." It is Dr. Weselton, he had become a member of the board as part of the deal he made to sell Biosyn to InGen. "Mr. Maguire, please poll the members by show of hands."
The senior board-member, Mr. Maguire reluctantly says, "All in favor of InGen Corporate Resolution 213C, show by raising your right hand." All raise their hands with Maguire being the last. "InGen Corporate Resolution 213C passes. Ms. Gothel, you are now the CEO of InGen."
A few weeks later, on a subway platform Eugene Fitzherbert waits for the train to stop, he hates traveling. Four years ago he published a tell-all book about what happened on Isla Dreki titled 'God Creates Dragons: How We Survived Isla Dreki' and almost instantly InGen has tried to turn him into a quake. Two years ago his publishers printed a new edition turning it into Science Fiction and named it "God Creates Dragons: Man's Foley". Last year his university had given him the ultimatum take a two year sabbatical or lose his tenure.
Well he needed a break from college students so he elected the sabbatical and he spent most of the time on the road with his band. 'Flynn Rider and the Stabbington Brothers' were in more demand than ever, thanks to the change in show line-up with the rest of the band and crew, known as the Snuggly Ducklings, preforming some of their own stuff, the lighting crew doing a light show, Hook-hand the keyboard player doing a piano solo to name a couple.
However, so many have bought InGen's lies that Eugene rarely traveled without a band member or not riding Maximus, a horse that his girlfriend's father, Roy Corona gave him as a birthday gift. Eugene still believes that the jester was meant to keep Eugene too busy to deflower Roy's little princess, Rapunzel.
Eugene takes a seat on the train and thankfully few people notice him, He thanks whatever god Rapunzel worships for that. It's not that Eugene is atheist or such, but having aged out of a Catholic ran orphanage, he's not so such if a god exist. A young man, in his mid-twenties, sees Eugene and realizes who he is. Eugene notices this because the young-man approaches and snaps of his fingers trying to remember Eugene's name. Eugene tries to ignore him.
"You're him, right?" the young-man asks, as he sets down. Eugene tries to act like he's reading the paper. "The scientist? The guy? I saw you on TV." The man continues. He leans in to try to get Eugene's attention. "I believed you." he says and after a couple of seconds mocks Eugene by saying "Roar" and using his arms to act like a huge jaw. Eugene doesn't acknowledge the young man. All Eugene can do is wait for his stop and hope the young-man doesn't get off with him or that the young-man's stop is before Eugene's.
Sometime later that day, a butler walks inside a large house to the front door. After opening the door for Eugene, "Shall I tell Mr. St. North whom is calling?" he asks Eugene.
"Eugene Fitzherbert, I was summoned." Eugene informs the butler as he walks in. As the butler leaves to inform St. North, Eugene looks around the atrium. St. North really cannot escape the whole toyshop at the North Pole thing.
One think does grab his attention a card with Krampus on it. "Dr. Fitzherbert!" comes the voice he had not heard in years, Anna Arendelle. Eugene turns and sees Anna and Elsa coming down from upstairs.
"Hello Dr. Fitzherbert." Elsa says a little more formal.
"Hey, it's been a while. It's good to see you both. Look you, Elsa you what now 18? You are becoming beautiful woman and Anna you're 14... 15, right? You're going give Elsa a run for her money. How are you two doing?"
"We're working out how to make a TV series. It's sort of an after-school educational thing, it's going to be humorous as well." Anna answers.
"We're using Olaf as one of the hosts, but we could use a real-life main host." Elsa points out, slyly offering it to Eugene.
"My son, Kristoff, is working as CDL driver, but I think he would gladly take the offer." Eugene says as he reaches for his wallet and pulling out a business card. "Here is card," he hands Elsa the business card on it is Kristoff's contact information.
"So you're here to see Grandpa?" Anna asks.
"Yeah, he called me out of the blue. I have no idea what's it about." Eugene answers, he's about to make a couple of comments but he sees a sadness in the girl's faces. "Is everything okay?" He asks instead.
"Well, not exactly." Elsa says, looking back up the stairs. Eugene turns to face it and sees several people coming down, most are corporate lawyers by the looks of their suits. The last one, he recognizes as Meter Gothel.
"Well, well if it isn't the infamous 'Flynn Rider'." Gothel says, turning to a desk that is on the other side of the stairs while the rest of her group exits the house. "Here to share a few campfire stories with my uncle?" There has never been good feelings between the two.
"You can convince the idiots of the Washington Post and Skeptical Inquirer of whatever you want. You know I was there. I know what happened and so do you." Eugene has had enough of society jabbing at him, he's ready to draw first blood for once.
"Do you actually believe that everyone who chose discretion did so for a nefarious motive? Even Anna and Elsa?" Gothel asks, turning to face the desk as she takes out a few files. She's looking over a few papers checking that all the 'i's are dotted, the 't's are crossed and minding her 'p's & 'q's.
"Don't bring them into this! Neither you nor I can have the slightest idea of what these girls actually went through or what Valka or CJ went through. This is not some game." Eugene retorts, angrily at Gothel bringing others into this.
"No, but you signed a nondisclosure agreement before you went to the island that explicitly forebode you from discussing what you saw until the park opened and you violated that agreement." Gothel points out.
"That agreement was rendered nun and void the instant The Red Death tried to turn over the car Anna and Elsa were in. Do you know why it took Black almost a week to get me to consent? That's because I went over it word by word, sentience by sentence, paragraph by paragraph. And I cite the agreement, highlighting the clause in question in the first chapter. And you lied about the deaths of two people, you stuffed misinformation to the public, you tried to make me look like a nut. Almost cost me my livelihood-" Eugene counters, but pauses. He wants to spill Gothel's blood, but he knows he must wait.
"We've made a more than generous compensatory offer for your injuries." Gothel retorts un-phased by Eugene's anger.
"Yeah, but that was a payoff and an insult. When you spin reality and cover up evidence, it hurt more than just my reputation." Eugene always called a duck a duck, he never was one for political correctness, being tact-less is a different story.
"As I recall, your university revoked your tenure, for your selling of wild stories to the press." Gothel reminds Eugene of his current state.
"You're spinning reality right there. They gave me the ultimatum to take a two year sabbatical or forgo my tenure. There was no money given to me or mine from the publishing house for either editions. I didn't sell anything, never accepted a cent and I told the truth." He just wants to ring her neck, but he knows it will be anti-climactic.
"Your version of the truth." Gothel argues.
"There aren't "versions" of the truth. And let me tell you something, InGen can't keep spewing out-"
"InGen, is my responsibility now, and I will jealously defend its interests." Gothel cuts Eugene off as she for the first time in the conversation looks Eugene in the face.
"You're responsibility? What about, Nick?" Eugene is taken aback at this, for all he knew St. North owned the whole company.
"It is our board of directors I must face, not my uncle. But trust me, your problems are about to be rendered moot. In a few weeks' time, they'll be long forgotten." Gothel says as she starts to walk out the house, but before she passes Eugene, he grabs her forearm
"Not by me!" Eugene says just above a whisper.
"Careful. This suit cost more than your education." Gothel says pointing out Eugene's community college and state university degrees.
"And it's worth not even half." Eugene mutters to himself as he lets go. He takes a few calming breaths and heads to where he knows St. North is, upstairs.
"It's good to see you again Eugene." St. North says as Eugene enters St. North's room. St. North is in his bed. He is clearly not doing well, he looks like he'll die before Christmas.
After looking around it, "Seriously what is it with you and Santa Claus?" Eugene asks. St. North just chuckles. "But to honest, I cannot say that the experience is mutual. So why did you ask me here, what couldn't you say over the phone?" Eugene elects to get the point.
"Well after the fiasco with the park, things haven't been easy for InGen, your book aside. Thank God for Site B." St. North replies, the last part was really more for himself than Eugene.
"Excuse me, Site B?" Eugene asks.
"The island of Isla Dreki was planned to be what was shown to the public, the showroom if you will. The facilities there were way too small to make enough dragons for Draconic Park to work. Site B was to be the actual factory floor. It was located on Isla Santa, about 90 miles from Isla Dreki. There we bred most of the animals, saw which species would survive in the environment, conducted actual field exams of which animals that we could use at the park, nurtured the animals for a few months and then move them into the park." St. North informs as Eugene approaches the bed. St. North was mostly bed ridden.
"Really? Now that I think about it, it makes sense." Eugene comments as he is at the foot of the bed.
"After our evacuation, Hurricane Clarissa forced a closing of our facility on Site B. Call it an act of God. We had to evacuate and the animals were released to mature on their own. How did you so eloquently put it... 'Life will find a way'." St. North says as he tries to sit-up. "And now we have a completely new ecological system on that island, with dozens of species living in their own social groups without fences without boundaries, without constraining technologies. And for the six years I've tried to keep it safe from human interference." St. North finishes with a healthy amount of pride.
Eugene is surprised at all this, "That's right, that's right. Hopefully you've kept the island quarantined and contained."
"We never bred an Aetus genus dragon, and there has been no sighs that any of the other dragons could swim." St. North reminds Eugene.
"That may be true, but I'm in shock about all this. I mean, that they're still alive. E. Aster said you bred them lysine-deficient. Shouldn't they've kicked after seven days without supplements?" Eugene asks, rubbing the left side of his face.
"All true, but by God, they're flourishing. That's one of a thousand questions I want the team to answer." St. North says in a near laugh.
"Team?" Eugene asks in terror. People on an island with dragons, has no-one learned from last time.
"Yes. I've organized an expedition to go in, thank you, to make the most spectacular living fossil record the world has ever seen." St. North says as Eugene helps him to his feet.
"Go in and document? You mean with people?" Eugene asks as St. North leads him to a desk.
"Yes, the animals won't know they're there, well shouldn't. Very low impact. Strictly observation and documentation. Our satellite infer-reds show that the animals are fiercely territorial." St, North says as he points the monitor of the computer in his room.
"The carnivores are mostly in the interior of the island so the research team can stay in the outer rim, limiting injuries and such." The two turn away from the computer. Eugene is clearly showing he does not approve of this. St. North attempts to assure Eugene, "Don't worry. I'm not making the same mistakes again."
"True, but since you're making a whole lot of new ones, I have to wonder if you in fact learned from the last time." Eugene pauses for a second. "Nick! So, there's another island with dragons, no fences, not even one of those little white ones from the 50's, and you want to send people in... very few people... on the ground, right? And who are these four lunatics you're trying to con into this?" he asks in utter disbelief that anyone would want to go, even if they only read the fictionalized edition of his book or heard about it, truth be told it's a bestseller two years running and going strong.
Acknowledging that it was not easy to form the team, "Well it was difficult to convince most of them as to what they would see and in the end I had to open my pocketbook to get them there." St. North confesses. He pulls out a few folders and starts handing them to Eugene, "But there's Ralph W. It, who is a video documentarian, and Finn Hofferson, who's our field equipment expert. I wanted Felix F. It Jr. but Finn is more than qualified. We have our paleontologist." He pauses and turns to Eugene. "And I was, however, hoping that you might be the fourth." St. North then led away from the desk.
"Now we, InGen, have been on the verge of Ch. 11 [1] ever since that accident in the park. So there are those in the company who want to exploit Site B in order to bail us out. They've been planning it for years, and I've been able to stop them until now." St. North stops turning to face Eugene.
"But a few weeks ago, a British family on a yacht cruise stumbled across the island and their little girl was injured. Oh she's alright now. But the board, convinced by my niece Meter Gothel, has used the incident to take control of InGen from me, well as CEO, but I still own 75% of the stock. Now it's only a matter of time before Isla Santa, this lost world is found and pillage. Public opinion in the US and Costa Rica is the only thing I can use to preserve it, and to rally that kind of support I need a complete photographic record of those animals alive and in their natural habitats." He finishes hoping this convinces Eugene to be part of the team.
"So you've gone from capitalist to naturalist in just six years... wow." Eugene muses.
Placing his hands on Eugene's shoulders, "This is our last chance of redemption." St, North says.
"Nick," Eugene says and shakes his head.
"No?" St. Nick asks sadly.
"Of course no. And I'm going to contact the three members of your team and stop them from going. Now who is the paleontologist by the way, because Valka is not stupid enough to sign up for that, even if you fund the Isle of Night* site for another 30 years." Eugene says as he turns to go back to desk and start making calls.
St. North is hesitant to say it, "Um, now before you do or say anything, this whole thing was in fact her idea and she came to me, I want you to know this."
"Who did?" Eugene stops and turns on a dime, he's hoping St. North is not suggesting who he thinks.
"Leave it to you, Eugene, to have associations, affiliations, even liaisons with the best and brightest people in so many fields. Some of whom are part of my family." St. North states. There is only two members of St. North's family that show interests in paleontology and only one is actually a paleontologist.
"You didn't call Rapunzel did you?" Eugene asks, coming to the correct conclusion.
"Paleontological behavior study is a brand new field, and Rapunzel Corona is on that frontier. Her theories on parenting and nurturing among carnivores has framed the debate. What are you doing?" St. North reminds Eugene of the talents of the young woman that has broken his smolder as Eugene turns to St. North's desk.
Starting to panic, Eugene asks, "Where's your phone?"
Just as Eugene finds it, "It's too late, she's already there. The others are meeting her in three days." St. North in forms as Eugene turns to face him.
"You sent my girl-" Eugene starts.
"Oh please Eugene, give me some credit for once, she's been my granddaughter for far longer. 'Sent' is hardly the word. She wouldn't be restrained. She was already in San Fransokyo at the animal park doing finishing a contrasting research between the lions there and the ones on the preserver I set up in Kenya."
St. North pours Eugene a glass of water and walks back to the desk, continuing, "And it's only a couple hour's flight. She was so adamant about making the initial foray by herself." As St. North hands the glass to Eugene, who accepts it.
"That young woman likens herself to Dian Fossey [2], 'Observation without interference' she said. She went on and on, you know how she is. Remember how she was when she was your graduate student, how after you were injured, she sought you out. And then she went all the way to a hospital in Costa Rica to ask somebody she didn't even k now if the rumors were true." St. North reminds Eugene of Rapunzel's inquisitive nature.
"If you want to leave your name on something, that's fine. STOP PUTTING IT ON OTHER PEOPLE'S HEADSTONES!" Eugene shouts as he starts to leave the room.
As Eugene pauses at the doorway, St. North tries to assure Eugene, "She'll be fine. She's spent years studying African, Asian and South American predators. She knows all the safety techniques we hear about and many only the locals know. She's knows what she's doing. And you know, only a papal threat of excommunication can stop her from doing anything. And believe me when the resear-"
Eugene cuts St. North off there, "It is not a research expedition now, it is a rescue mission and it's leaving five hours ago." He leaves the room as fast as he can, he's got a rescue mission to perform.
St. North walks back to his bed and after counting something on his fingers he smiles.
At that moment in Mombasa Kenya at an open air bar, an Indian man in his forties works his way through the hustle and bustle, mostly caused by an ill-behaving American Tourist. He finds his target, a man the same age, British and alone. "Lungri [3]" the other man says pointing to the Indian not looking from his order, which is some scotch.
The Indian asks, "How could you tell, Clayton?" and they embrace like brothers.
"That cologne I send to your wife every year, she's a smart woman marking her territory. Please sit down, Shere Khan. So how is the 'Lion Ruler' and what brings you here?" Clayton asks his old friend.
The Indian sits down and chuckles at his nick-names. It's clear by looking at him if he was not human, he would be a large Bengal Tiger. "I am alright. I am here for you. I got a call from a woman in California who's going to Costa Rica or thereabouts. If she's to believed it will be a... unique expedition. And very well-funded".
"Well, I'm a very well-funded … well there is no need for curse language. You should go by yourself." Clayton says looking at the present.
"But we always had great success together, and that's not including those few time we took Gaston." Shere Khan points out, this would be one last hora, a chance to re-live the old hunts of their twenties.
"A true hunter, like you and I, doesn't mind if the animal is able to get away. But we were a firing squad, you and I, not enough escapes." Clayton points out about the over-efficiency of their joint hunting.
Shere Khan looks over Clayton's points, "Fair enough, but this particular quarry I believe you will find... up to the challenge." Shere Khan knows more, but he also knows he has find a fault in Clayton's new life.
"Then it's probably illegal. These days, it's a more serious crime to shot a tiger than to shoot your own parent. Tigers have advocates." The two look over current hunting laws both national and international. Not that either are big fans of hunting animals to extinction. They both enjoy the act of hunting, but not necessarily killing the animal, in fact their favorite hunts where the ones where the quarry got away. Clayton and Shere Khan hear the ruckus being caused by the tourist. Clayton is clearly done with this savage behavior. "Excuse me, Shere Khan." Clayton gets up and walks over to the table of the American tourists. He is able to help the waitress get out of there. Turning to the clearly the leader of this pack and the most... savage of the lot. "You, sir... are no gentlemen." all the others oh and aw and laugh.
"Is that supposed to be an insult?" the man Clayton directs his attention to asks.
"For a true man, I know of none greater." Clayton points out the tourist's behavior as being what it is, un-manly.
The tourist looks at Clayton, "Buzz off you old bastard." he says.
"Say, what does one have to do to... what's you're colloquialism... pick a fight? Bring your mother into it?" Clayton asks, knowing that this man needs a lesson in manners.
"Are you kidding, I could take you with one arm tied behind my back." the tourist says dismissively.
Clayton knows that the opposite is true so he elects to prove it, "Really?" he asks. This is the most action he had in a while.
Clayton has his left hand tied behind his back and the two face each other. "I meant my ar-" Clayton punches the tourist right in the nose knocking him off his feet. "Cheap shot."
"Does the lioness warn the Zebra when she's ready to attack? Does the cheetah tell the gazelle when it should run? You said you can take me like this." Clayton asks. The Tourist is enraged and gets back onto his feet and starts attacking, Clayton effortlessly bobs, ducks and evades every shot. After a few more seconds, Clayton knocks the tourist out. Everyone, even the other Americans, cheered Clayton. His left arm is untied and he walks back to his table. "Sorry, old bean, what where we talking about?"
Shere Khan mouth's a 'wow', "You broke that man's nose and did a number on his jaw for no other reason other than your own boredom. Tell me the truth, aren't you even the least bit interested in knowing this expedition's quarry?" Shere Khan asks pointing out that the need to at least track a great animal is still there in Clayton.
"Shere, go on up to my ranch and take a look around the trophy room. And then tell me what kind of quarry could possibly of any interest to me?" Clayton asks.
Shere Khan gives a devilish smirk as he gives a deep chuckle.
Author's Notes:
First cast update: Everyone form Draconic Park present reprise their respective roles. The mentioned Finn Hofferson is Finn Hofferson from HTTYD Dragons and fills in the role of Eddie Carr, Ralph W. It is Wreck-It-Ralph and fills in the role of Nick Van Owen, Rapunzel Corona is Sarah Harding. Felix F. It Jr. is 'Fix-It-Felix Jr.', he serves no actual role but he is alluded to often. Actually introduced characters, M. Gothel fills in the role of Peter Ludlow, Clayton from 'Tarzan' is Roland Tembo and Shere Khan from 'The Jungle Book' is Ajary Sidhu.
As for dragons filling in the role of dinosaurs, Terrible Terrors are Compsognathus or 'Compy'
[1] Ch. 11 here refers to Chapter 11 Bankruptcy
[2] Dian Fossey was one of the most famous primatologist. Her focus was gorillas and it is because of her time among them that we know so much about their actual behavior. She was murdered in 1985 most likely by poachers or people whose livelihood became dependent on wildlife tourism, two things she opposed. Her opposition to pouching is straightforward, as for wildlife tourism, it was because gorillas are actually highly susceptible to human illness.
[3] Lungri is a name used in the actual book "The Jungle Book" for the character Shere Khan, it means 'lamed one' and was given to Shere Khan by his mother because of his bad foot. Rudyard Kipling never identified which was Shere Khan's bad or lame foot, I will expound on why I use it late
