…I am crazy for thinking this is going to turn out well… originally intended to be a simple 2 to 4 chapter story, Stranded is turning out to be a massive project unto itself with a completely new plot than the one I had envisioned before. I will be endeavoring to step up my production of the ever so important chapters along with the help of my beta, Sonsasu the Winter Dragon- (shameless plug- go read her stories! They are absolutely hysterical and so refreshingly original!)
I completely forgot to put up disclaimers so here it is- Predator –mournful sob- belongs to whomever created it but any unrecognizable characters are mine. I however don't mind if you want to use one of my characters. I ask only that you tell me beforehand and provide a link to the story so I can follow along!
Warning- this chapter contains some curse words.
'italics' is thinking.
"normal" is speaking out loud.
Without further ado… chapter 8 of Stranded!
Ignoring the stabbing pain in her knees, Sheila scrabbled backwards, free hand and feet frantically working against the floor in an effort to get Benny and her as far away from the…thing as possible. Struggling to not hyperventilate in her panic, the petite woman almost didn't notice when her back slammed against the wall of the ship, preventing her from moving any further. In retrospect, Sheila would have been proud of herself- she had covered 15 feet using nothing but a hand and feet in a record time of 4.5 seconds.
At the moment though, she wanted nothing more than to be back home in bed, blissfully curled up under her blankets and a messy pile of dogs surrounding her. But noooo... Benny had to wake her up with his tiny puppy sized bladder! Oh yeah… the pup was going to be the last kind of terrier she'd ever own- from now on out, it was BIG dogs with BIG bladders that could hold off the urge to pee throughout the night!
Sharply shaking her head to clear it of such mundane and slightly hysterical thoughts, Sheila eyed the alien cautiously (for that was what it had to be- after all what human had bright green blood and talons for fingernails) and swallowed hard as she belatedly realized it wasn't going to come after her courtesy of the stake that pinned him to the floor. Indeed, the creature hadn't moved since lashing out at her except for a more rapid rise and fall of the massive chest. 'How the hell is that thing still alive? Or even conscious for that matter?'
Forcing herself to ease up on the stranglehold she had on Benny, but maintaining a firm grasp on his baby blue collar lest Benny attempt to escape again, Sheila took a deep breath and promptly coughed as some of the swirling mists obscured her face, creeping into her mouth and bringing with it a sharp metallic taste. Feeling faintly nauseated and dizzy, Sheila coughed again, wiping at her mouth with the sleeve of her pajama shirt. The unfamiliar taste stubbornly remained despite her efforts, and this time Sheila was positive, the sharp metallic tang had increased in intensity. Resisting the urge to gag, the woman nervously shifted Benny, attempting to hold him up and away from the mists and whatever poisons they might contain. If the puppy was having any ill effects whatsoever from being exposed to the mists, he was doing an excellent job of hiding it as he continued to wriggle and pant happily, overjoyed at the fact that he had a new playmate whom seemed to be quite content lying on the ground, never mind that the alien didn't have a choice in the matter. It was probably a good thing the little bundle of energy was oblivious to the fact that if said playmate could have done anything, it'd probably have squished him under a giant foot without a second thought.
Yes… the fates were smiling upon Benny today.
Ironically, the mists did have poisonous gases laced throughout it, so important for the Yautja's continued survival and yet so detrimental to a human's own health. At the moment through… the human and dog would be fine, but in another 30 minutes… well... Let's just not go into that.
But Sheila wasn't aware of the predicament she was in… nor was she going to worry about Benny's fortune at the moment for the creature, whatever it was, was stirring again. Masked head lolling from side to side as if disoriented, the…alien made a soft noise closely resembling a growl but with a definite note of something tucked into the sound- pain maybe? The ominous sound was immediately followed by a light clicking noise that Sheila likened to teeth clinking against each other. Watching the thing weakly struggle, the deaf woman felt a wave of pity wash over her despite a nagging voice in her head, constantly reminding her of the violent actions the alien had done scant moments ago.
As a trained paramedic, Sheila was highly sensitive to the needs and hurts of other people and already, she had to fight that side of her that urged her to rush to its aid regardless of the danger it presented to herself. 'You are CRAZY if you think that thing won't kill you if it gets the chance! Look at what it's already done to your knees!' That ever nagging voice shrieked, causing Sheila to flinch.
'But it's hurt! It might have lashed out because it's in pain and scared… I know I'd be doing the same thing if I was the tomato on the kabob.' Ahh, there was the doctor in her, rising up to shoo away the dubious voice through Sheila, to be frank, wasn't sure why she even had voices in her head in the first place.
If Sheila had only known that the yautja had lashed out at her with the deliberate intent of wounding to kill, she would have walked out of the ship without a glance back, leaving the thing to die and gone on with her life, boring as it might be. Oh sure, she would have thought back and wondered what would have happened if she had stayed and helped the alien but she wouldn't have regretted it.
Sadly, that wasn't the case, and with her frame trembling almost minutely, Sheila stood up with her back against the wall. After a second of further consideration, she finally stepped forward. "Can you understand me? I'm a paramedic and I can help."
Her only response was a snarl as the alien swiveled its head in her direction, though if it was actually looking at her, Sheila couldn't say for sure as the soulless mask covered its face. However, it didn't lash out at her again, and Sheila took that as encouragement to step forward again only to be rewarded with another snarl, this time with considerably more heat and anger behind the bestial sound.
Pausing to quell yet another wave of fear and reassure herself that she was still out of reach, Sheila tried again. "Do you speak English?"
No response.
She received the same response when she repeated her inquiry in Spanish, German, and the smatterings of Russian she could remember. Not willing to approach any further than she had already, Sheila sighed and ran a hand through her hair in frustration. "I am not coming any closer to you than where I am now... at least until you say or can show me you understand what I am trying to do."
The silent act he was pulling didn't fool her in the least- he obviously was a creature with incredible technology and he had to be intelligent enough if he could navigate a ship that was obviously years beyond what human engineers could produce. She paused at that- well technically, he had just crashed the ship, and in a rather spectacular way too… so maybe she was overestimating his intelligence? Fervently hoping that wasn't the case, Sheila tried again in English, this time allowing her hands to flow through the air in her first learnt language- sign language. "Please… you are hurt… I can help you if you will let me."
After several breathless seconds of silence, Sheila's shoulders visibly slumped and she sighed miserably. Great. Now what? It was clear at this point that the creature either didn't honestly understand what she was trying to convey or he was continuing to be stubb- a flash of movement caught her attention and Sheila jerked upright reflexively, only to gape in disbelief.
The creature… was responding to her! In the language of the deaf!
As the taloned hands moved sluggishly through the air, Sheila was able to decipher some words here and there- "...Hurt…Help…" The rest of the words were lost to her, as they were obviously hand signs in the creature's own language.
Well! Seemed like at least one language was universal along all races! With an elated smile on her face, Sheila responded, one hand easily tracing through the air as the other held Benny who had gone strangely silent during the exchange.
Well! Seemed like at least one language was universal amongst all races!
When the ooman had first approached from its position against the wall, Bti Jfl had snapped out of his pain induced stupor and snarled, muscles tensing despite the agony it caused him. Feeling somewhat better when he saw the ooman pause, Bti Jfl forced away the agony again through sheer will.
By Centatu… the pain alone was enough to make him want to turn his blade upon himself.
Mentally grumbling, Bti Jfl's attention was drawn back to the ooman as it once again took another step. 'Does the cijit thing never learn?' Snarling with all of the anger he could force behind the sound, Bti Jfl was highly displeased to note that instead of the previous mind numbing fear the ooman had plastered all over her face, there was instead a healthy dose of respect, some left over vestiges of fear, and…pity.
'ARGH!' If it was only one thing Bti Jfl utterly loathed, it was pity either for himself or for anyone else. It was almost a phobia really of his, through he would have to be hard pressed to admit to having such a…strange fear.
When the ooman spoke to him in its odd language, Bti Jfl scoffed incredulously- if the ooman actually thought he was going to lower himself to respond in such a barbaric language, it was sadly mistaken. Oh yes, he could flawlessly understand the English language, but to respond in kind would be a huge strain on his throat seeing as he didn't possess all the equipment needed to speak in the ooman tongue such as… let's see… lips and a tongue.
Mind you, he could communicate proficiently in the English language but it really was too much of a bother to do so.
Brows furrowing as the ooman proceeded to speak to him in several other languages that weren't familiar to him, Bti Jfl resisted the urge to growl again. Doing such a frivolous thing was a waste of energy as it was obvious it wouldn't startle the ooman into moving away and leaving him in peace. Almost feeling the inane need to tap his claws rhythmically against the floor in boredom, the warrior couldn't resist bitterly thinking 'Where the hell is death when you want it to come?' before he shifted carefully, mindful of moving around too much lest he cause any more bleeding,
When the ooman raised its hands and began to sign, Bti Jfl's mind stuttered to a halt. '…the hell?'
Almost immediately though, Bti Jfl, never one to pass up an opportunity, figuratively leapt to action, beginning the process of converting the ooman's awkwardly distorted signals into language he could understand.
As a race of hunters dedicated to the kill, Blooded yautja had developed a system of hand communication that they could utilize when it was of utmost importance to be silent, but information still needed to be passed around. What the ooman was using seemed to be an incredibly rough and primitive version of that system and using his knowledge of body language and the hand signs, he was able to discern the ooman wanted to help him. Of course the fact that she spoke aloud as she signed as was a help too.
This of course left the albino yautja in a bind. Should he allow the ooman to repair his injures at the risk of being ridiculed by his kind when they learned of his story? Or should he take the honorable way out and activate his self destructing bomb, thus obliterating any traces of his ship or him? Mmm... Choices choices.
'Ahh fuck this.'
Carefully raising his hand and wincing when the abused muscles up and down his single operating arm threatened to seize up again, Bti Jfl began the laborious process of signing single handedly to the ooman whose visage had seemed to brighten up when he responded- not that his thermal based vision was any help with expressions, but her body language conveyed her relief and eagerness to help easily enough.
Hating how pitiful he must seem at the moment but knowing he didn't have a choice in the matter, Bti Jfl phrased his request for aid in terms as simple as he could make it. Privately heaving a sigh of relief as the ooman rapidly responded to his request by stepping closer and kneeling down, now in easy range of his hands should he get it into his head to create bloody mischief, Bti Jfl shoved away his pride and distaste of being touched and allowed the ooman to examine him with surprisingly gentle hands.
Suppressing the flinches and rattles of pain as the small hands ghosted over the still seeping wounds, Bti Jfl tensed as the ooman bent over him, peering at the large pole that poked rather becomingly out of his abdomen. Thankfully it seemed to realize that touching that area would only aggravate the pain he was already in and provoke his temper once again.
Watching the ooman flutter over his form with no small amount of bemusement, Bti Jfl silently observed the ooman while it was up close. If he could recall correctly from his earlier training hunts, this appeared to be a relatively young female, small enough that his hand could span her head with a delicate looking skeleton that he knew from first-hand experience could and would shatter underneath a playful punch from one of his kind. Long tresses, left free like one of the unblooded pups that populated his home world, trailed over one narrow shoulder, ending directly above one of the two mammary glands.
Now these, he eyed with considerable interest and no small amount of disgust- no female yautja possessed these attributes and indeed, he couldn't see the reason as to having two large deposits of fatty bodies on the chest area. That only would serve to throw off her balance, forcing her to lean back slightly in order to support the weight, slight as it was. Wanting to poke one and see if they were truly as squishy as other hunters had rumored them to be, but refraining lest he anger or frighten the ooman (not that he cared all that much about her emotional state), Bti Jfl tore his unwillingly fascinated gaze away from the soft appendages. And just in time too as the little female began to sign rapidly again. Mandibles spreading as far as they could go in the confines of his mask, Bti Jfl furrowed his heavyset brows, trying to make sense of what the girl-woman was saying. Something about… moving? Eh? 'But what about the woun- oh. Oh fine you pathetic thing. Run off won't ya?' Irritably Bti Jfl clattered the appendages that surrounded his inner mouth against each other, producing a distinctive clicking noise
While he had caught something in her signing about bandaging his wounds and possibly moving him off the pole, it was mostly jumbled to his mind, already foggy and dulled by the ever present pain that radiated out from every part of his body. Then she had moved off, out of his sight. While somewhat disgruntled at the lack of information on her part, Bti Jfl chalked it up to the poor efficiency of her sign language. Of course… it wasn't his fault the language had been so perverted and twisted that it was almost a new dialect unto itself so quite naturally it was her fault.
With a sigh that was inaudible to the human ear, Bti Jfl settled back to wait, wincing as the shard still lodged in his upper arm grated harshly against bone as muscles contracted against it. 'Fuckity fuck.'
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