Zul'Zae'ju'Jin
the Hugger Troll
@livinglikeleevi
He hid beneath what had once been a bus shelter, now fallen to the ground in disrepair, balled up against the thick glass. The structure was overgrown with weeds and ivy and as he looked out beyond the relative safety of his sanctuary, he could see that saplings were starting to reclaim the new world. His lips drew to a thin line before he drew his attention to the small book in his hands. He jotted down in a fast scribble before reading his own words.
It's been almost three years since InGen made the world class mistake of their whole operations. I never gave a damn for the world before but now? Someone done fucked up and now I have to live in their mess. Them and I are gonna have worlds when the world gets it shit together. IF. If is good. There's no real government anymore, the raptors worked them out quick as pan. Local wildlife has learnt fast about the extinct invaders. I heard they're not even fully dinosaurs... something about a frog or a toad.
A roar shattered the air space and he paused in his little life story of events, glancing around the shelter's edge but he could see nothing. "Too far away," he muttered before he turned back to his task of scribbling. He pulled his collar up against the chill of the afternoon as fingers shifted.
Cold beer would be nice. I'd be lucky. The grid went down few months back. The military have done shit about it. Fighting a dinosaur army with their arsenal seems akin to firing pot shots into Wolverine's skeleton. Food's all right though if you don't mind the risk. Mostly small fry. Too dangerous for anything bigger. Need better transport. It's going to be dark soon. Here's to surviving another year. Merry Christmas bud.
The man stowed the utensils away into his trench coat and gathered his bag closer to him. It looked just as worn out as he was. The coat was clearly worn everyday in and out with all the frayed edges. His boot soles were worn down and his hair was scruffy. He brought out the only firearm he had possession of. It was useless against anything huge but it would make smaller targets think twice. He slowly rose from his temporary refuge and slapped the rucksack to his back. He tucked the small firearm into his waistband and headed towards where an supermarket had once been. He hoped something was left.
He hid beneath what had once been a bus shelter, now fallen to the ground in disrepair, balled up against the thick glass. The structure was overgrown with weeds and ivy and as he looked out beyond the relative safety of his sanctuary, he could see that saplings were starting to reclaim the new world. His lips drew to a thin line before he drew his attention to the small book in his hands. He jotted down in a fast scribble before reading his own words.
It's been almost three years since InGen made the world class mistake of their whole operations. I never gave a damn for the world before but now? Someone done fucked up and now I have to live in their mess. Them and I are gonna have worlds when the world gets it shit together. IF. If is good. There's no real government anymore, the raptors worked them out quick as pan. Local wildlife has learnt fast about the extinct invaders. I heard they're not even fully dinosaurs... something about a frog or a toad.
A roar shattered the air space and he paused in his little life story of events, glancing around the shelter's edge but he could see nothing. "Too far away," he muttered before he turned back to his task of scribbling. He pulled his collar up against the chill of the afternoon as fingers shifted.
Cold beer would be nice. I'd be lucky. The grid went down few months back. The military have done shit about it. Fighting a dinosaur army with their arsenal seems akin to firing pot shots into Wolverine's skeleton. Food's all right though if you don't mind the risk. Mostly small fry. Too dangerous for anything bigger. Need better transport. It's going to be dark soon. Here's to surviving another year. Merry Christmas bud.
The man stowed the utensils away into his trench coat and gathered his bag closer to him. It looked just as worn out as he was. The coat was clearly worn everyday in and out with all the frayed edges. His boot soles were worn down and his hair was scruffy. He brought out the only firearm he had possession of. It was useless against anything huge but it would make smaller targets think twice. He slowly rose from his temporary refuge and slapped the rucksack to his back. He tucked the small firearm into his waistband and headed towards where an supermarket had once been. He hoped something was left.