shatterverse | (no subject)

Entry tags:

edwin dobson,
sky

(no subject)

One moment, Edwin is tearing through the steppes...

...and the next, he (and his horse) find themselves in very unfamiliar territory. Huxley pins his ears back and snorts at the sudden flash, rearing slightly, while Edwin fights to remain in the saddle as he looks around. "A storm?" he asks himself, looking up a sky that seems anything but stormy. He starts as his attention goes to the rest of the landscape-it certainly looks dry enough, but this...isn't Euloria.

His horse, meanwhile, recovers quite a bit more quickly and begins to move along at a quick trot, apparently not bothered by the fact that he's trotting on pavement rather dirt. Edwin just hangs on, still staring at his surroundings, particularly at the sign that he passes by as Huxley continues onwards-Snakewater, Montana - Pop. 21,500.

At least, that's what it says underneath the scratch marks covering the population number. Beside the former number, someone's painted 15.

Edwin is fairly certain that isn't a terribly good omen.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Don't know. I can't see through time, just what's going on right now, and what's going on right now is... not much."

"...Oh." That's...not reassuring. "You don't see anything that could attack us nearby, do you?"

"That could attack you, you mean."

He should know from the oddly windy handshake that she's not exactly solid.

"Gimme a minute..."

"--okay," says Sky, focusing on the world at hand again. "Now would be a good time to go that way, very fast."

That's all the encouragement Edwin needs, really. Clicking his tongue, he goads Huxley into a gallop, glancing behind him quickly. "What did you see?"

Perhaps more importantly-does he want to know what she saw?

"Dunno exactly."

She's never seen Jurassic Park, see.

"Quick. Low. Claws. Three of 'em."

"Cats?" he guesses. Well, cats are low to the ground, they have claws, they can (and will), in fact, eat you...

He keeps Huxley at a gallop, still looking behind himself for any sign of whatever's chasing them.

"Nah... more lizard-y. I'd say dinosaurs, but that's a little weird even for this place."

Oh, if only Sky knew.

Edwin looks over to her for a moment-just long enough to ask "Dinosaurs?" before going back to trying to watch the landscape as it passes swiftly by.

Quick, low to the ground, claws...well, that certainly sounds familiar.

"Like I said, weird, isn't it?"

"Not really," he mutters to himself, then calls "I'm a paleontologist," more loudly. He has a particular interest in wanting to actually see what's chasing them. (Both in the name of science and curiosity, to see what they think of him.)

"That's why I was in Euloria-we were digging for fossils."

"Well, now you get to have some dinosaurs try to eat you! Isn't that lovely."

...it's hard to tell whether she's joking or not, here.

"They'll have to catch me first!" he calls back, spurring Huxley again-okay, so maybe he doesn't want to be too close to the dinosaurs. But he still wants to be able to see them.

...aaand there they are, sprinting up the road. Long tails. Sharp claws. Inexplicably, no feathers.

And inexplicably, way, way too big. (For velociraptors, anyway.)

Huxley lays his ears back and snorts, squealing a little and continuing to gallop-but he's slowing down. He can only take so much running, after all.

Edwin, meanwhile, is staring at the raptors. At least he's fairly certain they're some sort of dromaesaur, albeit some that were plucked somehow.

The raptors-- if they are that-- don't seem to be tiring.

Oops?

Bugger. Edwin would really, really prefer it if nothing ate his horse, kthnx. He glances at Huxley, glances to the raptors, then finally looks at Sky. "...I think I'm going to have to distract them," he says after a moment.

This is Edwin attempting to form a Cunning Plan. No good can come of this.

"With what? Pulling rainbows out of your ass?"

"Not quite," Edwin says before speech suddenly gets a whole lot harder and he sprouts a snout. And feathers. And claws much like the ones the raptors are sporting. He's only taken half-beast form-his full one is a little too close to snacking size for comfort-but he hopes it'll at least distract the raptors.

Ahh, if only the fossils were able to tell him if raptors ate their own or not...

The feathered crest along his head suddenly rises up as he lets out a hoarse "Khoh! Khoh!" at the dinosaurs.

...?!, goes just about everyone present.

Sky makes confusedface at him.

The raptors stop for a moment, but there's that juicy delicious horse right there...

"Khoh! Khoh!" This is his horse!

Huxley, meanwhile, has slowed down. The dinosaur things are talking at each other; this is (for a horse kept by a whole group of raptorskins) normal and not much to be concerned about.

Edwin's jaws snap a few times, adding to the display-and it really is a display. He's been shown how to bluff, but in a real fight? He'd likely be dinner.

...yeah, Sky's just going to... float here and let the freakin' dinosaurs sort their shit out.

The raptors (the full-time raptors, that is) aren't exactly sure what to make of this, either. The lead male and female squabble amongst themselves briefly about what to do, hissing and nipping, while the younger male attempts to just get over the fact that some normally easy prey now looks, sounds, and smells mostly like a raptor, what the hell.

Edwin just keeps his crest up and watches the trio with jerky, bird-like movements of his head, jaws still slightly gaped. Part of him is concerned about not getting himself (and Huxley) eaten; the other part is making mental notes about the dinosaurs' behavior.

Finally, the lead male snorts briefly, snaps his own jaws at Edwin, and then turns to trot away, followed by the other two. They'd prefer prey that's less likely to lead to their faces being chewed off.

"Well. That was impressive...ly weird."

Sky can pause ambiguously in the middle of a word! She is THAT COOL, dude.

"Khht." Edwin looks back to her, looking about as sheepish as a raptor can look. He'd been planning to keep the whole 'skin thing under wraps.

But he has other problems to deal with at the moment-namely, pants problems. (Also shirt and whatnot, but mainly? Pants.) He looks around for a moment before pushing Huxley into a walk, heading for a tree. It's not much to hide behind for changing, but it's better than nothing.

Giggle.

Hiding from an air spirit? He is naive.