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 Post subject: Re: The Journal
PostPosted: Sat Sep 19, 2015 9:47 pm 
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Stegosaurus
Stegosaurus

Joined: Sun Jul 19, 2015 3:09 pm
Posts: 51
Spoiler: show
So, sorry for the delay, my computer really did die, the screen fell off and everything. Sad news I'm afraid, the lizard pictured earlier died and has been cremated, if this was ever something published it'd have a little dedication to him on the title page. Also if it was published (very very unlikely) as I've said to Tatu and Vesiapina there would be limited editions with props used in the movies, if anyone is interested I will have fossils used in the pictures and replicas of the shotgun shell matchboxes used and stuff like that, nothing incredible yet, after all I am aquiring props and such in my spare time with my own money. I've gone back through and updated several key plot points but I doubt anyone will really notice, a researcher has become a vet, the Mussosaurs have become Eodromaeus, Jacob's Marlin is now a Winchester (for the sake of us being able to actually get one for photos, It wasn't cheap) and I will be replacing one of the photos from the bit with the Troodons once I sort out some cables, the old one was lacking. The updates will come slow for maybe a few weeks, at this point I'm trying to find time for several photoshoots to accompany a large wad of main story ark, I'm also, if anyone wants to see them working on a little lego replica of the jeep we'll be using (once I stump up the £2000 needed to buy the thing off a friend and modify it) and little lego minifigures of some of the cast along with their armoury, if anyone is interested in seeing that maybe I'll start another thread, let me know, anyhow enough from me, On with the story.

UPDATE: Ok so I've now begun working on replicating the entire franchise fleet in Lego :P


16th August
Today I visited Chris to ask for an update on the decryption of the tags "Ahhh not good." he replied leaning heavily on his desk "Whatever is on those tags they didn't want us to read without their hardware, there was some kind of virus, overheated half the computers and burned them out. We still have most basic systems but phones are out for now and we've lost tracking on the satellite that does our satphones. That and some of the lower risk solenoid locks opened, hell of a roundup it'll be." "So." I replied "computers are dead and the animals are loose... fabulous." "Without the Phones we can't replace the fried components of the main computer system, it did something to overheat the CPUs, you're of course back on combat duty with all this. Your first order of business is helping out herding the sauropods back into their sector out on the plains, you used to drive a rig right?" "Not so often but yeah, I can weave one backwards through traffic cones, why do we even HAVE a couple of old aircraft De-icing rigs?" "You try washing a damn dinosaur with a broom and hosepipe, fine for elephants, less so for Apatosaurs" Chris replied "Look just use the hose and try to chase the things back through the gates."

"This is wash rig 07 heading out" I radiod as I set out followed by two other 18 tonne rigs, trundling out of the compound to the plains with ACU troopers hanging off the sides. Reaching the herd of sauropods I stopped the rig, climbed down from the driver's seat, and into the basket (known as a Mobile Elevated Work Platform(MEWP)) and hooked up a coms headset to the cabin. I took the basket up on the boom as high as I dared while remaining mobile on uneven ground and checked the high pressure hose before we moved away, a driver taking over from me in the cabin. The three rigs formed a chevron around our first sauropod, guiding it with jets of high pressure water and the odd poke with a wash brush (a telescopic broom designed for scrubbing aircraft fuselage from a distance) back through the gates and back to the feeder tower in their enclosure. To repeat this process with all the sauropods and block any trying to wander again took all day. At the end of the day I headed to the diner with Owen as per usual, Tonight I ordered the Chilean Sea Bass and Owen had the Pachy Burrito. "Where are the Eodromaeus tonight Jani?" I asked "Oh, I guess they're off somewhere else tonight" He replied "I really wouldn't worry about that, they're fine really." "Sounds mighty fishy but I'll take your word for it." I replied.

17th August
"Earl Grey? you've got a more lively one today..." It was 7 AM in Chris' office and Owen and I were getting our squads' assignments for the day. "Yes please." I replied, "Lively y'say, what have we got now? Gallimimus?" "If what just ran past the fence out there is any judge, nothing so cuddly, better make it a strong brew." Said Owen, "Yes that's right chaps, terror birds from the Aviary. You'll be giving Carl a hand with the damn things now they've come down off the highlands." And so we found ourselves standing on the edge of the forest armed with net guns, bolas and snare sticks, waiting. "So, run the plan by me again?" Asked Matt as Watchtower and Bloodhound squad stood awkwardly in the damp undergrowth "Well..." I began "Somehow Carl thinks he can chase the terror birds in groups or one at a time into our lines and we, uhhh, net the gigantic vicious predatory birds? Damn I'm glad they're flightless." "So..." Connah ventured "We're going up against ten foot tall flesh eating ostriches with nets and harsh language?" "Yes." Owen responded, "That's why some of us were smart enough to bring shotguns loaded with rubber bullets." At this Owen and I hastily checked our shotguns really WERE loaded up with rubber bullets as the inherent risk of the plan his us. "Did anyone think to bring tranquilisers or stun-rods?" I asked "I mean I have a few tranq darts but as Hammond said 'the effect changes with the target's mass, temperament and mood' as he said, Results may vary." At this point we were interrupted by shrill shrieks made by no human throat and the sound of a small engine being pushed hard. Coming over a low rise was one of the most bizarre sights any of us had laid eyes upon, Carl on his motorbike flanked by and slightly behind a group of four terror birds. At this strange sight I burst out laughing, how could I not? "What's got into you?" asked Owen "This really isn't the time mate." "I know Owen" I said catching my breath and picking up my SPAS 12 "But did you ever see that security footage of Grady riding with his Raptors in the second Nublar incident?" "No, but I really don't think this is the best time..." "Righto, but I'm telling you, after this review your shoulder cam footage and compare it to the Nublar archive footage." With that the two squads raised their capture gear, Owen and I trained our shotguns on the leading two birds. Three birds went down to net guns, one to the edge of the group broke left and ran back out into the open. Of those birds the best way we found of subduing them was to jump on them in the true spirit of Steve Irwin and wait for Rach, the vet attached to Watchtower to inject the great feathery beasts with sedative. As no bloodshed had come about Owen, Connah and I hefted the Terror birds into the back of a supply truck and Owen and I drove them back to the Aviary. On arrival we took the supply road into the structure itself, an incredible road passing along the top of the canyon, across and down into the far rock wall, through a store room, then across a caged in bridge passing through the canyon. The Aviary is a breathtaking sight at the best of times, but the seemingly perpetual fog in the canyon was a little lessened by the sun today and around us wheeled brightly coloured Pterosaurs of many less aggressive species (or in some cases bred more passive than their Nublar and Sorna Iterations). Arriving at the aviary hub we drove through the open gate into the terror bird paddock and dropped the tailgate of the truck next to the individual holding pens. We secured each bird in a separate pen so they could regain consciousness safely and would not trouble us when we bought in the rest of the birds. By the time we returned to the lowlands another four birds had been bagged and Matt seemed to be thoroughly enjoying chasing a fifth bird around in an old Ingen Harvest outrigger jeep built in the late 90s, with occasional shouts of "Tally ho!" as he tried to keep a cumbersome linstradt trained on his quarry. The sun was setting by the time we wrapped up the terror bird situation and as always we headed for The golden Amber for more Dunkleosteus Doughnuts. Watching Jani's behaviour tonight I said to him "Ok, I know something's up, where are they?" "You've got me." Jani replied "All in good time my friend, you'll like this one..."

Spoiler: show
Editing note: the bit about the terror birds originally had a typo: 'armed with net guns, bonas and snare sticks' I've finally fixed that, however I found it far too hilarious not to mention... sorry, they were definitely NOT armed with Boners, prehistoric beasts should not be seen as sexy... Again at Marsh language, Connah was not Bubbling like swamp gas


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Last edited by Fenris on Wed Jan 20, 2016 3:42 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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 Post subject: Re: The Journal
PostPosted: Fri Oct 09, 2015 10:48 pm 
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Stegosaurus
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Joined: Sun Jul 19, 2015 3:09 pm
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18th August
We finally got through to the mainland to requisition new computer components today, and given the seemingly higher risk work environment we find ourselves in, a few upgrades in terms of firepower. I even convinced Chris of the possibility we might need bigger guns. Re-barreled assault rifles and even a custom .600 pistol, low on magazine space and big on recoil these guns will offer unrivaled stopping power. Full metal jacket rounds by the thousand and numerous upgrades for the guns we have. In the Afternoon I went to see Marcus, I was told he could be found out by the unfinished visitor centre outside the main compound, working around the construction team. "What are you up to out here?" I asked, spotting him working in the shade of a stack of monorail sections. not a big high speed transport monorail like on Nublar or Sorna but a ride like some zoos and amusement parks have. The monorail is set to pass slowly over some of the park's exhibits, offering an unrivaled view of some of the larger enclosures which might be harder to observe from the road tour. "After those breakouts." Marcus replied, "Some of my saplings got uprooted, we had a few species running around if you recall." "Looks like they got the treeferns? Damn you know I like my treeferns, just when I thought we might have one of the nicest visitor centres in the Central Americas, of course we can't compete with Permafrost park, they've got that whole glass 'ice palace' thing going on." We'll Get there" Marcus replied "After all, this island isn't about the big predators and the rides, we're about the little wonders, the species no-one else is working on, the behavioral studies, the varied beauty of it all" At this point a Hummingbird zipped past, heading straight for a climber just beginning to establish on an arch over the main staircase, a beautiful visitor centre indeed.

19th August
Today I went to see my favorite animal on the island, I drove my little Jeep out into the plains to the Mammal compound. Heading down a well used muddy lane recently paved with logs I passed between fields where all manner of prehistoric mammals and proto-mammals grazed or foraged. Today however I was headed for the main compound, where all the more troublesome species were kept in reinforced pens till more suitable Habitats could be prepared. Passing into the building itself I searched among the rows of cages filled with tiny furry creatures, big hairy things with fangs, and darkrooms full of bats. I found Sam feeding some honey coloured scrap of fur near the back of the building. "Morning Sam." I greeted her "How's my boy?" "Of course, I knew you'd be here sooner or later for that great oaf. He's growing well and he's strong as an Ox." Together we walked through a large door in the back of the room and down a ramp into a huge open sided timber structure. "All Well and good, but that's not strong enough for me." I replied. A pair of Paleomastodons stretched their trunks over heavy log and cable fencing to snuffle hopefully for treats from us, Therapsids bared their massive teeth behind the bars of their pen and a young Ambulocetus slipped from a bed of straw into its pond. "Are you still keeping that thing here? Shouldn't it be at the marine labs?" I asked, "Well, he is a mammal, they mostly deal with fish and marine reptiles" "Well," I began, "He IS basically a tiny Whale with legs... Speaking of, when are you going to get some Otters?" This conversation took us to a pen built of the same beams as the fences protecting the perimeters of the island's compounds. "COLIN" I called, "Get yer Wrinkly Arse out of that bed of yours" As if on Cue a dusty grey boulder of a beast burst from the hut like structure in the far corner of the pen, shedding straw as it ran. The grey behemoth hit the fence with a resounding crash, sending flakes of grey paint flying and denting the bars outwards a fraction of an inch. "Most people just get a dog you know" Sam observed "Out of all the weird and wonderful animals we have here, you bonded with a Rhinoceros." "Yes I replied, "A very special Rhinoceros, a fresh male Northern White Rhino, and the world needs him, Don't they lad?" Colin just Snorted and allowed himself to be stroked through the bars, rubbing his great head against the long-suffering barricade and grunting contentedly. "So Sam, Them Otters..." I began. "We'll get them, for some reason they thought the world needed weird extinct whales with feet more than to build up populations of endangered species... I know Chris is asking mainland management if they could get their priorities sorted on this one. You must be really glad you've got your Rhino." "Yes" I replied "But one Rhino does not a Herd make, we need more DNA from somewhere for a good gene pool"

20th August
"What's in your mess tin this morning?" Came a voice from behind and below me as I sat atop a platform on a great old jungle tree overlooking the South gate. Rain pattered on the heavy canvas tarpaulin strung up over my perch as I replied "Morning Jacob, assorted foodstuffs vaguely resembling breakfast. We've got Beans and suspicious looking tubes trying to pass themselves off as sausages, a few minuscule mushrooms... And this here" I said, spearing the offending disc of reformed meat with my fork, "Would have us believe, that it is a 'bacon slice' perhaps a more hideous untruth than when Easyjet tried that with Ham in their 'Bacon' rolls... Don't even get me started on the egg and bacon 'nuggets'. Still It's edible and if you've got a light for the hexy stove I've got spare." As the dubious mix of beans and low grade meat simmered over the solid hexamine tablet Jacob asked me: "So, why are you up a tree in the rainy season again eating beans?" "Simple." I replied "it's peaceful, back in Africa there was an acacia in the middle of Kingfisher camp, I used to go up there for a little peace and quiet to think, besides, the view reminds me just how isolated we are out here, that's a very important thing to keep in mind, particularly with recent events. Complacency should never enter into it and it doesn't hurt to keep in practice with some of our more reliable tech. Take that paracord wristband of yours with the little firesteel you lit the stove with, in a push it'll serve you better and more reliably than any of the ovens in camp, even if hexamine has that vague fishy smell." "Still" Jacob began glancing doubtfully at my shorts and battered and untied British issue Combat boots, "Bit drafty isn't it? I mean would it hurt to make use of the comfort of the huts?" "perhaps" I replied, "But this here's a good lookout point, and this is no worse than a Winter morning in South Africa, it can never hurt to keep an eye out, even from the non-designated watchtowers. I mean doesn't it unsettle you all this business with virus protected chips and species that have no place being on one of our more 'peaceful' Islands? I can almost feel it coming in the air, those chips herald trouble and it's worth being on our toes till we know just how much trouble." Jacob stared thoughtfully at his mess tin at this. "Look at it this way though, we're sharpshooters, we've got some of the best arms in the company, as long as we see them coming, and even if we don't you know Bloodhound Squad have our backs, there's not much we can't put down before it can touch us, for everything else there's the assault trooper Squad. Look at you, cream of the INGEN ACU crop, anyone who makes it into Bloodhound or Watchtower is. However bad it is, and I'll tell you now it won't be a teaparty, we can handle it lad." The rest of the day was spent in the drizzle, digging out clogged ditches running to the river as the compound threatened to flood itself.


Last edited by Fenris on Fri Feb 05, 2016 10:36 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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 Post subject: Re: The Journal
PostPosted: Sat Dec 12, 2015 1:15 am 
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Stegosaurus
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Joined: Sun Jul 19, 2015 3:09 pm
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Finally my computer sort of works again, anyone miss me? anyhow I should slowly return to posting updates...


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 Post subject: Re: The Journal
PostPosted: Mon Dec 14, 2015 6:51 pm 
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Dinosaur egg
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Joined: Sat Mar 02, 2013 10:47 pm
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cant beleve i missed this , had me hooked cant wait for more


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 Post subject: Re: The Journal
PostPosted: Wed Jan 20, 2016 1:09 pm 
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Stegosaurus
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Joined: Sun Jul 19, 2015 3:09 pm
Posts: 51
I am terribly sorry, real life has been getting in the way, I've just logged in to tidy this up a bit then I have to force myself back into the swing of writing after gallivanting around to photoshoots and working on props. Thank you for actually reading this, I was afraid by now Everyone would have told me they didn't want this.

Edit: I've gone through and improved what I've uploaded, can't find a way to remove any of my non-story posts. Rest assured there's another installment coming once I've edited it to coincide with the new, more concise storyline, I figure I shouldn't try to stretch out the story's timeline to match my own lagging update schedule.

And thank you again Everyone who has stuck with this and encouraged me on Facebook. And to our surprisingly large cast of Live action park staff ready to step in when we can get the bigger photoshoots ready.


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 Post subject: Re: The Journal
PostPosted: Mon Jan 25, 2016 1:05 am 
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T-Rex
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Location: Canada, eh?
Quote:
I am terribly sorry, real life has been getting in the way,

No problem - life comes first!

Quote:
Thank you for actually reading this, I was afraid by now Everyone would have told me they didn't want this.

Who's going to complain about there being more to read? Nobody, that's who. It's a pretty cool little story, I especially love in-character fiction when it's part of a larger world, and you've augmented it with a visual element, which is all that much better. Keep it up - I've been peeking at this every now and then to see what's going on. :)

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 Post subject: Re: The Journal
PostPosted: Mon Jan 25, 2016 11:18 am 
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Stegosaurus
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21st August
A cold breeze rustled the leaves in the Tropical predawn and water dripped from the canopy, I sipped my steaming cup of camp grown Assam Tea in the quiet darkness. "So" Owen began scrutinising his mess tin of stewed steak "I read your requisition list, wise if extensive choice, you really expect to get all that? I mean I know it's looking like trouble but Head office is going to see our preparations as overkill no?" "They'll have read the reports, something's up here and I have this unsettling feeling before too long our 'overkill' preparation will be vindicated, much as I hope to be wrong" As I bit the corner off a White Kendal Mint Cake Owen responded: "Aye, I wish I could disagree but I just can't, I know about your order and I'm sure you can guess the one I've placed for my squad isn't too far from a match. My squad already has many of the items you're stocking up on, it's in our nature after all, Even ordered myself a Czech 9mm to replace one of my .45s, a sacrifice of stopping power to be sure but wait till you see the suppressor this thing has. Y'could take a raptor without him knowing where you were." "True enough" I said to him. "Our squads are somewhat dissimilar in operating procedure and atypical of the ACU in general, but that's what makes us so needed, why we're the ones they fly to other sights when they're in a squeeze. I mean... Did you hear that?" He asked. "Yeah and I don't like it" I replied, dropping the mint cake onto a crate, grabbing my rifle from the sawn off branch it was slung from and standing up. Owen grabbed the reciever of the heavy, outdated portable radio, "South Gate, This is Bloodhound lead with Watchtower lead, I want you to unlock the gate, swing it open real slow and quiet and be ready to hit the perimeter lights" By this stage I had undone the retaining strap on my holster and swung myself onto the Ladder "Barracks, I need as many troopers as you can kick out of bed, non-lethals and torches, you probably heared but South Gate, over and out" Without waiting for a reply he followed me down the ladder as I jumped the last few rungs and spun on my heel for the gate. As we ran we could already see gatekeepers emerging from the small gatehouses either side of the great wooden doors. As we Ran through the gates I pulled out my pistol, rammed a dart into the open breech before sliding it shut and flicked on the tiny black Torch taped to the small suppressor. Owen now only a few steps behind bellowed "Light it up" And the Jungle was bathed in countless millions of candlepower from the tops of the fenceposts, Great spotlights flared to life from the mighty concrete gateposts and began sweeping the Treeline. "Lower" I called "Whatever it was was small" We crept forwards into the foliage carefully, followed by a handful of gatekeepers with flareguns and shock prods, One who I couldn't help joking to myself was quite possibly Scottish bore a nasty looking length of Iron bar, rolled flat in the mighty gate bearings and crudely sharpened. "What's with the Claymore Gatekeeper? We generally set more store in catching them alive than resolving matters in a way that entails later serving them in a peppercorn sauce. "Yes Sir" He replied "But if it's a choice between some of the monsters this company got itself some bad press for and one of my lads, 'looks like meat's back on the menu boys'" I let the obvious reference slide given the gravity of the situation "True enough, How's a guy like you still keeping gates on a 'quiet' Island paradise? Permafrost Park could use more like you from what I hear. Then there's Muerta, that place is just a Damn powderkeg." "Peaceful suits me just fine Sir, what do you think it was?" At this Owen Responded "Fast, it fled the moment the lights were turned on, judging by these tracks before that it was thinking of making a meal of your lads, Under the circumstances I think the mainland doesn't need to hear about your letter opener there. I'm going to suggest we get an electrified net maybe 12 feet or so up a little way outside the fences. And you can tell the guys in stores if they have a problem with giving you night vision goggles they can take it up with me." At this point a small fleet of Jeeps pulled up, with Troopers hanging on the sides, I bid the front passenger of the first jeep follow the tracks. At this he jumped out of the jeep and perched on the bonnet, all the better to watch the claw prints as the jeep rolled over them. His vacant seat was quickly filled by a Young Trooper holding an unwieldy net launcher. "The Rest of you" I said Indicating the other Jeeps, "Spread out, where there's one..." Bringing up the rear of the procession of green InGen Harvest style jeeps was an old Sand and Red Hardtop Jeep Wrangler. "What's all this about?" Asked Chris from the driver's seat "We were having breakfast up my tree mate" I responded "Owen here heared a noise, then I heared it. Something medium and nasty skulking in the shadows out there, making a little more noise than it thought it was." "But what man?" Chris asked jumping from the Jeep, by way of a reply Owen just pointed at the tracks. "Oh.... but no, nonononono, not here, they shouldn't even be here, let alone free roaming."

22nd August
The hunt continued through the next day, with jeeps coming and going as the needs of their occupants for food, rest and other things demanded. "Reminds me of the search for that snared Lion at Kwa Madwala, Damn thing managed to give us all the slip for about two weeks before they could catch it to help." I remarked to Matt and Connah as we drove back through the compound gates, the sky darkening before us. I pulled my small, aged sand and red Jeep, the only one like it on the Island up in front of the Golden Amber. Passing inside I said to Jani "Burgers, Burgers, my Kingdom for Burgers" and nearly tripped over an Eodromeus "I see your conspicuously absent friends have returned to the roost." "Tough Day?" Jani asked, "And yes, Quite literally a roost, I caught one nesting in a crate of fruit packed in straw one time. Not that you can hold it against them." We sat down on the mismatched barstools lined up in front of the main counter, hewn from one mighty tree and I mopped my brow with a napkin. As I did so a mildly plump Eodromeus hopped up onto the counter next to me and began to 'peck' at the napkin in my hand, I gently pushed the small green-brown reptile away and shoved the napkin deep in my pocket where pointy little snouts could not find it. before too long Jani bought out a small mountain of burgers as Owen wandered in with two of his stern looking subordinates. "Any chance of Salt and Pepper?" I asked Jani, Eyeing the chips beside my Burger and grasping the vinegar bottle like it might make a bid for freedom. Jani passed me some and I found a small brown head, this one lined with blue streaks of a more mature Eodromaeus, swiveling to watch. I tore open the sachets and when empty deposited them on the counter, At this the old therapod trotted daintily along the counter, bobbing its little head and nosed the discarded sachets, inhaling deeply. Jani lifted the little birdlike reptile from the counter and placed it on the floor, giving it a thin strip of bacon.

23rd August
The Day close enough started like any other, the hunt for raptors had been called off though patrols around and between key locations on the island had been stepped up. The main Barracks was on full alert, all gunracks unlocked and not a single staff member allowed outside the compound buildings without some form of gun. Most members of Watchtower aside from my chosen few were dispatched to every watchtower on the island and always with a small ACU trooper team sent with them, Even disused and unofficial watchtowers were manned by a minimum of three armed men. Aside from the absence of a good number of ACU troopers and specialised squad staff, everything inside the compound was business as usual. My chosen team cleaned and oiled their guns and made for the firing range, all toting guns of or in excess of 30-06 calibre. As we were getting started on the day's practice a Short Wheelbase Landrover Defender painted in absurd tiger stripes and with a hastily set up Bren Machine gun on a pedestal in it's flatbed pulled up. "Subtle..." I commented to Owen, harnessed to the gun pedestal agaist falling from the landie "Where did you find that thing?" "You know full well we got her from a certain Safari park you used to frequent selling off old staff vehicles, I for one enjoy the absurdity..." "So, aside from laughing at your new Chariot of fire, what can I do for you?" I asked, squinting at the blaze orange and black car, still bearing English numberplates. "I've been playing with your ammo press, I thought you might want to give these a try." With this he handed me a heavy plastic box, opening it I saw triple rows of Martini Henry Bullets, these were not the extra heavy .470 custom rounds I am accustomed to by now but pointed .45 full metal jacket rounds paper patched like original Martini rounds to .468 before being pressed into the massive brass casings. "Pretty." I remarked "You know, they used to hunt Hippopotamus with jacketed Martini Henry rounds, back when bastards hunted for sport." "I know your feelings on the subject" he responded "But these are only for if you need them, superior penetration against tough scaly mothers, see how they perform then we can discuss if more should be made." As the Offensively bright Landrover pulled away We resumed shooting, and continued for some time. Other groups came and went, presumably reassuring themselves that their lower caliber rifles and regulation pistols could still save them in a pinch.

Late Afternoon and a gaggle of lab techs were taking turns to shoot at a closer target with an assortment of handguns, looking disdainfully over at them Connah raised his .50 Desert Eagle 'hand cannon' one handed and blew a hole in a mid range target. The Impressive bang caught one young lab tech off guard and he knocked a box of .357 rounds off his end of the makeshift shooting stands. Without thinking the lab tech scrambled after the box as its contents rolled down the slight slope of the range. "CEASE FIRE" Connah, Jacob and I reflexively shouted in unison. The Lab Tech glanced up from his headlong pursuit and stumbled over a pile of rounds, sliding further down the range. "Was that really necessary mate?" I asked Connah as the lab tech ducked into the bushes pursuing several rounds which had made it further than the rest "I know it's a firing range and they should be expecting loud noises, but you could have warned them before firing that damn th..." There was an all too recognisable inhuman shriek from the bushes which chilled even those who had never heared it in the flesh before to the bone. Everyone knew that sound from the training videos if not previous experience and every gun in sight was instinctively raised to the bushes. "Men, hold fire and advance." I called, "Do not shoot unless you have a dead cert shot, we don't want to hit the kid." We didn't have to wait for the shot however, the Lab tech burst from the bushes and was knocked to the ground by a blur of light grey-brown dappled with crimson. The man was pinned screaming by an Isla Sorna B tribe velociraptor as they've come to be known from the old records we recovered in the early 2000s. 'Tribe B' were Larger than the average raptor and able to withstand a beating. While they're impressive to look at with their black rimmed crimson 'giraffe spots' there's a good reason they were phased out in favour of smaller, more docile raptors that could be easily trained. 'Tribe B' were trouble second only to the tiny black and yellow striped savages of Mt Watson, 'Tribe C'. The raptor standing on the poor man tore at his back and without thinking I fired into its chest, several other rounds hit it in the leg and tail and the beast crumpled as if hit with an artillery round.

Before I could get to the radio Jacob did me proud, grabbing it and calling for immediate medical attention, only once that was confirmed calling for ACU and Vetinary support, after all with armed staff on hand the lab tech had to take priority over any concern over the raptor's life. As we ran towards the felled but alive raptor it was clear it was not some aged throwback. This raptor was young, not fully grown, its scales bright as polished glass. The shock of impact from my rifle had spun its young body nose first away from the range and it struggled painfully to get up. "Give the scaly bastard the Crocodile Hunter treatment, if she tries to bite or claw SHOOT HER, our accident book is quite full enough. Staunch the kid's bleeding with whatever CLEAN cloth you've got on you, field dressings, scope cloths I don't care we can replace them later, this guy is NOT dying on my watch." At this point a Unimog in Medical livery roared across the compound, skidding to a halt in the mud to the left of the range. From the passenger seat (being one of the few lefthand drive vehicles on the Island) Leapt Nathan, The Island's head medic , clothed head to foot in US navy combat blues. Behind him ran EMTs in green jumpsuits with High Visibility stripes wearing packs stuffed full of medical equipment. "What's going on here?" He inquired, looking at the man lying prone with his colleagues pressing shirts to his back "Right, show me what we're dealing with... Oh, Jesus." Nathan paled as he saw the deep gashes in the tech's back but to his credit didn't miss a beat as, from a belt sheath, he produced a rescue cutter such as is used on seatbelts by emergency crews and cut the soaked shirt free of the man's back. "Saline!" He barked at the nearest EMT and began to wash out the deep wounds, the other EMT pulled a packet of O negative blood and a folding stake from his bag and quickly and efficiently set up a transfusion. Nathan Took a syringe pre-loaded with TXA and injected it into the stunned technician "Relax." He told the man, "It's for clotting, I'm going to have to sew you up back here, be strong mate." He worked quickly stitching up what seemed at first a mess of gashes, while he did a second Unimog bounced over the uneven terrain of the firing range itself, this one bearing Mobile Veterinary Unit markings. Two more EMTs had set down a stretcher next to the prone unfortunate by this point and as Nathan finished his stitching the four EMTs lifted the tech and his blood packet onto the stretcher still face down. "Top work Nath" I congratulated him, "Though I'm sure you don't need telling how good you are after that little save." "Eggs and baskets my friend, I hate to say it but let's not celebrate just yet, anyhow I REALLY have to get him back to the medical bay, in future please try to get to those horrible creatures before they maul anyone." "Will do, all the best mate."

With that I turned to the other Unimog as Rach dropped from the driver's seat into the churned up ground, followed by assorted other veterinarians such as were on hand in the facility. Rushing to tiring raptor's side she said to Jacob: "Hold her head tighter, I need to sedate her." Drawing a sizable pistol grip syringe from a leather holster and jamming a needle on it she asked the situation. "FMJ .45 in the chest, good chance it hit the breastbone and shattered it, nasty beast is certainly winded. A .45 in the thigh, thirty-odd-six in the shin, .303 in the tail and .45-70 up the..." Began Jacob "...Cloaca." I hurriedly finished for him afraid of what be might say, before continuing: "I'm afraid we didn't get a whole lot of choice, she had that poor bloke you probably saw being carted off pinned." "There there girl, poor baby." She said softly pulling the needle from the muscular neck, before asking in astonishment: "Wait, this colour, Sorna Type B?" "Somehow." Replied Connah, "Someone better have some good answers for this." As the raptor's movements slowed she gently pushed it over on its side and listened to its leathery chest at which Connah showed genuine concern "Be careful with that thing." He implored her, "I'll be fine!" Was her reply, "She's out and probably tough enough to survive this one." "You didn't just watch it try to eat someone." he muttered "Perhaps we should have just killed the bastard..." Rachel ignored this last, pushing a pair of bullet forceps into the chest wound while another vet stood by with a canister of biofoam, an expanding sealing agent designed to degrade once good solid clots had established. With a sickening crunch she pulled the bullet free of the beast's ruined breastbone "Remind me to see about upping the powder in those for if we actually need them" I remarked, "Reckon they might just be of some kind of use if they can fell a Tribe B in one hit to the breastbone though, even a little one." As the vet with the biofoam sprayed it into the first wound Rach moved round to the cloaca, probably the second most serious injury, "Did you have to shoot her there?" She asked Jacob in some small degree of disgust, "Wait, not a She, He, though you damn near changed that..." "It was a split second shot, no-one can expect perfect aim every time under those conditions" I shot back, Jacob piped up with: "I tried, nasty place to get hit." "Well it could have been worse, bullet passed cleanly through, miraculously didn't touch bone." She said at last. The process of patching up the dinosaur proved simpler than that of patching up the man and was halfway finished by the time a Humvee rolled across the open firing range, a trooper in crisp new ACU uniform at the gun. Chris, administrator for the Island, climbed down from the back seats. "Right, what's happened now?" He asked in some exasperation, at this point Owen's garish Landrover rolled in followed by one of the sand and red Jeep Wranglers. "Bugger me, Don't tell me that's a Tribe B?" Owen asked hitting the quick release on his harness and jumping clear of the Landrover before it had halted. "They were discontinued some time ago, but this one's young." Confirmed Chris, "I'm starting to agree with the uneasy feeling you guys have about this whole mess."


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 Post subject: Re: The Journal
PostPosted: Wed Jan 27, 2016 9:52 pm 
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Stegosaurus
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Joined: Sun Jul 19, 2015 3:09 pm
Posts: 51
TheIdiot wrote:
Who's going to complain about there being more to read? Nobody, that's who. It's a pretty cool little story, I especially love in-character fiction when it's part of a larger world, and you've augmented it with a visual element, which is all that much better. Keep it up - I've been peeking at this every now and then to see what's going on. :)


I think that's about the best explanation I've had, rather than people just saying "you're a good writer" which I never bought... Thank you.

So... News:
Firstly I believe Tatu is working on giving us a new tidier format on the Articles section, most of the people associated with this project aren't Trescom folk so I'm sure they'll appreciate that, I know I have people pestering me to get that done, Hell I bought body armour (Yes, we have so VERY many props we're just waiting to use) off some guy the other day, he asked what for and was interested in the project... A little more exposure for the site and the game right?

Secondly I've been starting to gather Assets for the tie in game, I'm honestly a little exasperated, As a community TresCom have done the impossible for this game, and that makes us mighty... But with a few exceptions like East Dock most of it has been about exploring abandoned facilities, grabbing what weathered guns we could and scratching out survival in ruins? What my team and I seek to bring to life as best we can is a world where it all worked, sure there are mishaps or it'd be a pretty dull tale to tell, but I'm going to need to make everything new and shiny, less faded than the textures we have, new guns, new challenges.

To this End I'm looking for anyone with Talents geared towards making new assets, anyone who can photoshop better than I would be a welcome addition, Audio people we have...

I just wish I had more time and money to make this project really something.


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 Post subject: Re: The Journal
PostPosted: Fri Feb 05, 2016 12:37 am 
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Stegosaurus
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Joined: Sun Jul 19, 2015 3:09 pm
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24th August

The Raptor Stumbled to his feet and took a tentative step out of the cage into the morning light of the hastily erected paddock. Welders and offcuts of steel bar still littered the ground outside as we watched the injured beast nose its dressings. "Should have put a cone on it, it works for dogs." I joked to Rachel as the raptor continued to snuffle the dressings, in spite of the stitching, some blood had continued to ooze from the deep gunshot wounds from the previous day. "He's figuring it out." she replied as the Raptor turned to glare at her, "You know what Raptors are like, devastatingly intelligent, Look! He can probably smell me on the bandages, no matter how carefully I've washed. Question is, does he think I shot him? Or does he know I stopped him bleeding?"

At this point our discussion of the future disposition of this raptor towards veterinary staff was cut short by the rumble and rattle of a supply truck that has seen better days. A General operative was behind the wheel, an uncommon site so early in the park's construction, but their numbers shall grow as more specialist jobs are completed. In the passenger seat Chris was reading from a clipboard. As the Truck slewed to a halt in the mud it began to rain, hardly uncommon for the time of year. Chris stepped down from the truck into the light mist of rain, placing his clipboard on the seat of the truck. "Look at this wondrous thing." He began as the rain intensified, "Computer components by the crate, new coffee machines, more medical supplies, everything you asked for they provided. There's another truck mostly full of ammo, also pretty full of tea and coffee. I've another item for you too." "Chris, with you I use this phrase far too often." I replied "But given the situation these days I REALLY DO hate to think." "Just follow this truck back to the Armoury, I have to make a stop at the control centre to drop off these computer parts though" He said, hauling himself back into the truck and glancing at my jeep "And bring something covered with more space in the back, OUW." He concluded, sitting on his clipboard.

After driving Rach back to the veterinary wing of the lab I radio'd Connah to bring a landcruiser round to the armoury. The supply truck Chris had been riding in had not yet arrived but the quartermaster checked our Squad's Ammunition allowance on his clipboard and two storemen started loading the back of my jeep with boxes of ammunition of varying calibres and types. While this occurred Connah arrived, followed by Owen's absurd landrover. "That thing isn't getting any stealthier." I observed "Isn't that the point of your squad? To not get spotted a mile off?" "Well, as a general rule only when we're trying not to get spotted." Was Owen's reply, "I hear someone at head office heared what had happened and threw in a few goodies extra."

While we were talking various other vehicles passed on their way to the general supplies prefab. By the time our ammunition was loaded up the truck bearing Chris and the guns was pulling up alongside our varied transports. "Right." Chris began, "We've got all the usual for you, empty cartriges... five seven seven-four fifty, fortyfive-seventy, fresh target paper and stickers, dayglo paint for your target spinners and plates, veritable bucket of gun oil, tub of wood treatment, leather treatment, percussion caps and lead ingots, Air rifle pellets, crate of tea... Damnnit Watchtower you really are about the highest maintenence group of ACU operatives in the industry. Why can't you just wear camoflage and webbing like everyone else and use regulation rifles?" "Our mismatched equipment makes us versatile, you wouldn't want to take down a diseased Compy with a regulation weapon anymore than you would a Rex. In the first instance there wouldn't be as much left for the lab, in the second there wouldn't be much of the shooter left for a funeral..." I replied, "All well and good, but could you not have gone with composite stocks, modern military grade weapons and uniforms, what's with all the private purchase hunting gear and leather?" Chris asked hefting a crowbar.

"Personal preference and unit Identity, it can't hurt for a specialist unit to feel special, and for away trips to other islands it doesn't hurt to be instantly recognisable. Eventually there's public opinion to consider too, The company has everyone else dressed up like soldiers, when the park opens don't you think it'll worry them to see staff looking like soldiers? We just look like experienced outdoor types, makes the island seem safer no?" I responded as Chris pried open a long crate to reveal racks of long Heckler and Koch rifles. Picking one up he changed the subject: "It WAS a safe island before this trouble started. Anyway, someone in head office said this is a cause for some concern, he thought you might like these, you're familiar with the SL9 yes?" "Not for a while, Bulky but if you can put some distance between yourself and your target good for small game hunting I guess." I responded rooting in a straw filled box next to the crate. "This is new, choice of Magazines, standard low capacity clip, G36 clip and what's this? do these things even reliably work?.. 'Improved design'... I'll believe that one when I see it, anyhow, nice, not what I asked for but nice. How many?" Chris picked up two of the great black rifles and handed them to Owen and I before replying: "Two per squad, stopping power is low at that caliber but you can carry a few more than with those boomsticks of yours. Next we have your new extra large boomsticks, re-engineered XM8 assault rifles, .700 nitro express... Seriously, you guys know we don't HAVE Tyrannosaurs on this island right? and those magazines hardly hold much, why didn't you just go with Saiga 12s? I don't know..." "I did." Cut in Owen, "If you'll check your list again? But this one felt deer slugs and buckshot weren't quite enough, have you got my pistol?" "I aim for a clean kill." I replied, "Last thing I want is anything we have to take down feeling it, speaking of which, how about MY pistol?"

"You mean your handheld Artillery piece?" Asked Chris "Yes, both your absurd handguns are here, they're both ridiculous and we had to special order ammunition for both. High penetration, hollow point, bloody howitzer shell... I know things have been off lately but don't you think there's such a thing as going TOO far? These dinosaurs are living beings AND assets, don't you think we should try to keep them as both?" "Well, in terms of dinosaurs that should legitimately be here." I sighed, "Yes most certainly, but most of those are pretty harmless, what I'm worried about is the influx of dinosaurs that just damn well shouldn't be here... Sure I'd rather take them alive, what do you think all the flechette rounds and the crate of darts and bottles of tranquiliser are for? But most of the time in a pinch we don't have time for bulky tranquiliser guns or measuring out dosage or the sometimes slow effects on therapods. Additionally we seem to be collecting animals we didn't want on this island, we have a troodon pit and now we have a damned raptor, where will it end?" "Very well." Chris huffed, handing Owen a pistol bearing a gigantic suppressor and myself a pistol exceeding even the size of the ubiquitous Desert Eagle.

"I suppose that's your argument for all these lethal and nonlethal grenades and THESE." At this he hefted two large plastic cases from the back of the truck. Owen opened one and withdrew a black powder coated .50 Barrett Anti-materiale Rifle. "Nice." I commented "Fantastic close quarters potential, I didn't know your boys were into hunting trees." "Says the man with the massively overbore assault rifles." He shot back. "Yeah but they're short, recoil's a bitch but you're only going to have to shoot once..." I began before being cut off by Chris: "Enough the bloody pair of you, you've got your overkill toys, now onto everything else, a coffee machine for you each and one more thing for Watchtower... JON! Jonny here is transferring to your squad from the ACU guys filling in for security. Don't give me that look, so were you, Monty felt that like you, he wasn't reaching his potential escorting scientists and standing in front of gates with a FaMas." At this the man standing in the back of the truck, the same one who had been driving earlier jumped down and smiled from under a slightly oversized helmet. "Firstly." I replied, "I like the FaMas, not a whole lot of stopping power but it's compact and performs well, you'd hardly believe it's French. Secondly, ah what the hell... Welcome aboard lad. I suppose we better see about replacing that blue jumpsuit of yours with some dignified gentleman's wear. Then we can take you to the range, the quartermaster keeps a few more sporting models here in the armoury for our squad." "With respect sir I took the liberty of making a few private purchase decisions prior to my transfer being finalised. Rifle is in this case." He said lifting a dark, aged, wooden box from a mass of foam. "And In the bag I've got some gear to blend in a little more with you guys."



By the time what could be assembled of Watchtower had assembled (one must remember many were still posted up towers) at the firing range the rain had finally stopped completely and the trees dripped in the brightening afternoon, The squad stood under the cover of the stands eyeing the four new rifles and that old wooden case uncertainly. "Right men, I want each of you to try the new rifles, we have two re-barrelled XM8 rifles, two SL9 sniper rifles. Only one shot each for the XM8s, they take shortened point-seven hundred Nitro express and magazine for magazine they are by far one of the most expensive things you with ever shoot. The SL9s are five point five six millimetre, the quartermaster has spare barrels, I don't think we need to be too concerned with those. I also want you all to freshen up your skills with various Linstradt airguns, The older Pardini Fiocchi Dart guns and the Umarex air pistols, DO NOT CONFUSE THE CALIBRES OF THOSE LAST TWO, honestly I have better things to do than deal with anyone who tells me their gun isn't working properly or won't load because they can't tell a twenty-two from a one-seven-seven dart. New guy you're with me and Jacob." At this Jacob sloped arms smartly, no easy task with a scoped Winchester and I unslung my 1870's Martini-Henry sporter from my back, handing my Umarex air pistol to one of the attending squaddies. "Damage it any further than that crack in the casing and a new one is coming out of your wages specialist, is that clear?" "Perfectly sir." He replied wandering over to the delicate plastic rack of darts set up on the air rifle range to the left of the main stands.

"Right, Jon, Jonny, whichever, let's see what you're packing." I said laying my rifle carefully down in the rack at the side of the extra wide instructor's firing stand. "Righto, let's see it then." I said, "What are you staking your life on?" Jonny unlatched the case and creaked open the battered lid. "No." Was all I could say, "No way at all, unless every other firearm on the island somehow stops working, I do not want to see that thing pressed into service. "What's the problem?" Jonny asked, "It's a modern replica made with modern quality." "The Problem." Began Jacob "Is he doesn't want anyone dying because you chose an accident waiting to happen, I don't want to be rude but did you think before you bought this?" "I don't see the issue, I'd have thought you guys would be the last to criticise, I mean look, you're using an ancient single shot rifle, and you're using a modern version of a classic American repeater like I am." "You fail to see the difference? The difference is technology." I explained "See, what you have here is a replica of an 1855 Colt revolving carbine, Truly an innovative design and a good looking rifle. That .56 caliber would offer some stopping power to be sure but you havn't taken into account the limits of a cap and ball rifle. My rifle is single shot sure enough but it's a cartridge gun with a falling block mechanism and an effective ejector, this offers me a lot of stopping power with relatively little trade-off in rate of fire. Jacob here has if I recall, 6 in the magazine one in the chamber for a total of 7 rounds. Not that he should need to for most purposes but his rate of fire past those seven shots should match my own more or less exactly. You have five, five rounds before a lengthy reloading process, you have to fill each chamber with black powder assuming it hasn't gotten damp, if it's damp you're screwed and this is a very wet part of the world. Once you've added powder to a cylinder you have force a bullet into each chamber with the little lever, don't do that straight away you risk pouring powder everywhere. That takes long enough by itself and then you have to prime each cylinder with a percussion cap."

"Let's not forget." Jacob took over, while I caught my breath after this tirade, "Putting the slow reloads aside, let's not forget the glaring safety issues, it's a revolving rifle, they didn't take off for a reason. Unlike a revolving pistol they never solved the issue of gas leak from the chambers before the barrel, you can't hold it like a normal rifle or you risk injuring your hand. They tried adding blast guards in front of the chambers but found this increased the already sufficiently high risk of a chain fire. Now even if it doesn't fire more than one cylinder at once and take your hand off, you have to hold in in a manner that comes far less naturally, you can't support the front of the rifle properly and this can't help but harm your aim. You get past all this and you're aiming down your gun, trying to get some kind of accuracy? Well your rifle might just reward you with a little shard of percussion cap in the eye." Jonny shouldered the rifle "I'll take my chances if it's all the same..." I put my hand on the rifle and gently lowered it "No I'm sorry, no you won't, not in my squad. See you might think this is just about you but slow reloading speeds would drag the unit down and possibly get someone killed. And the rifle itself, it's a beautiful piece of machinery but aside from use on a range with a LOT of safety measures in place... I hate to do this when you've TRIED, but just, go see the quartermaster, ask him what guns he's got. I need a coffee, Connah, you're in charge till I'm back." This last I shouted over the gunfire to a few stands down as I jumped into my jeep.


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