alxngrant

[alxngrant]

Number 46 for a suspicious starter . { Suspicion from your Grant perhaps-- if you feel like a different starter is more appropriate ABSOLUTELY feel free to write it up I don't mind <3 }

There wasn't too many people that Alan would turn away from his dig site--at least, not without a good reason. Grouch he may be, he was still a professional. Besides, it usually allowed an opportunity to educate.

But, for reason, this guy just rubbed him the wrong way. Maybe it was just a gut feeling, but one or the other, he wasn't looking forward to dealing with him. Alas, he was in charge, so he didn't have much choice.

Roland didn't make it very far before Alan cut him off at the pass, walking forward to greet him well in advance of anyone else even spotting him.

"Dr. Alan Grant," he said, stiff smile on his face. "Do you need something, Mister...?"

[alxngrant]

I rescued your hat.

well... that's the important thing.

[alxngrant]

these nerds

[alxngrant]

Alan considered himself lucky he hadn't met a mated pair of Tyrannosaurs. If the current hypotheses were really true, that was one hell of a power couple.

"We ran into a Spinosaurus, Ceratosaurus, Ankylosaurus... no Carnotaurus, though." He leaned forward, curious. "What were they like? Group hunters, or solitary? Were they really as fast as we think they were?"

He caught himself before he got too excited, clearing his throat and sitting back in his seat. Best not to badger Ian TOO much about it. Chances were good that it wasn't a pleasant experience at the time. Even he still had nightmares about the caws and snarls of the Velociraptors, regardless of his utter fascination with them.

"It's going," he admitted dryly. "Honestly? Ever since the San Diego business, dinosaur interest has really skyrocketed. And since no one's allowed to visit Isla Nublar while the park's being built, or Isla Sorna, the only place to properly appreciate them is in the fossil record."

And while he doubted it would stay that way when Jurassic World opened, he was going to milk the opportunity for all it was worth.

"I'm not exactly a people person, obviously, but I try to educate my students whenever I can. Some of them are more interested than others, but I'll take what I can get. The science is in the bones, not in a theme park. I hope people understand that."

Well that hurts! Is he really that obvious?!

Was the hurt able to be seen momentarily on his face? Probably.

He built his life on chaos theory and he's not being chaotic!

How could he?

"... They won't listen but... Yeah. I'm going. Hoping I don't freeze up hearing the noise of a creature but only one can hope for so much."

He sips the beer again, nodding silently to Grant's words.

"The Rexes were breeding with each other when I was last there. Raptors, Pachycephalosaurus... Compsognathus." He's sure he's butchering the names of the animals but he didn't care.

"... But it sounds like you didn't meet the Carnotaurs." Hell, he didn't even meet the Carnotaurs himself. He was out in the back room high out of his mind on fucking morphine.

He hates to think of himself as some kind of drug addict when it came to morphine...

"I won't pester you with that information then if I find out more."

He's leaning back heavily in the chair with a sigh.

"It's weird that I'm the one interested in finding out more. Guess that's my nature coming in to explore more even if I get more regrets from it."

Another sip. "How's your paleontology going?" It's a hard u-turn for the topic they'd been on about, but it's clear he's respecting Grant's wishes about not talking about the parks or other information.

[alxngrant]

JURASSIC PARK (1993) dir. Steven Spielberg

[alxngrant]

"I wouldn't put it past you--though I suspect you would have done it a lot earlier than now."

He took a sip of his own beer as he listened to Ian talk. He didn't blame the man for worrying; his entire job was expecting the worst, and that would wear down anyone, given enough time.

And, quite frankly, Alan wasn't exactly optimistic either. Just because they learned from Hammond's mistakes didn't mean they wouldn't make all new ones. It was only a matter of time... and that would just make the inevitably disaster all the worse. What if something happened when there were thousands of people there? He shuddered to even imagine it.

And Wu... he vaguely remembered he name. At the time, he had focused more on the hatching Velociraptor egg than the scientist explaining their 'breeding control,' but he had seemed a little too confident in their work. He wondered if the Jurassic Park 'incident' had humbled him a bit... but he doubted it.

"...you plan on actually going?" He finally said, leaning forward on the table and fixing Malcolm with a slightly surprised look. "You don't think they'll actually listen to you, right?"

There was a sigh, before he sat back again.

"I haven't heard much. Not really interested in looking deeper into it. I'm done dealing with InGen and their science projects, Ian." He paused, adding in a whisper, "There were illegally bred animals on Sorna. I don't know if you ever saw any of that, but... if that's the sort of thing they're still working on, I don't even want to think about it."

"You and I both know I'm not a champagne kind of person."

But, hey, they had beer in the tent. Might as well crack open a bottle before Ian collapses. With a sigh, he waved for Malcolm to follow him, trudging slowly towards the digsite's main tent. He skirted around the edge of the site to avoid most of the people and equipment, giving Ian more than enough room to move around freely... or as freely as he could with his leg problem.

"Of course I did," he said dryly as he walked. "Masrani gave me a free ticket and everything. I assume you said no as well? Unless you really wanted to give them grief in person."

He wouldn't put it past the chaotician to take advantage of that opportunity.

"...I try not to think about it," he continued, pulling aside the tent flap to let Ian in before heading over to the cooler to grab a bottle of beer. "It wasn't exactly a dream vacation, you know? Neither was Nublar."

He paused to crack open the bottle, pour the two of them a couple glasses, and hand one to Ian before sitting down at the folding table he had set up in here.

"Is that what you came all the way out here for, Malcolm? Site B?"

[alxngrant]

Send my muse “👀 + a question” and they’ll have to answer with 100% honesty.

No deleting questions, either!

[alxngrant]

"You and I both know I'm not a champagne kind of person."

But, hey, they had beer in the tent. Might as well crack open a bottle before Ian collapses. With a sigh, he waved for Malcolm to follow him, trudging slowly towards the digsite's main tent. He skirted around the edge of the site to avoid most of the people and equipment, giving Ian more than enough room to move around freely... or as freely as he could with his leg problem.

"Of course I did," he said dryly as he walked. "Masrani gave me a free ticket and everything. I assume you said no as well? Unless you really wanted to give them grief in person."

He wouldn't put it past the chaotician to take advantage of that opportunity.

"...I try not to think about it," he continued, pulling aside the tent flap to let Ian in before heading over to the cooler to grab a bottle of beer. "It wasn't exactly a dream vacation, you know? Neither was Nublar."

He paused to crack open the bottle, pour the two of them a couple glasses, and hand one to Ian before sitting down at the folding table he had set up in here.

"Is that what you came all the way out here for, Malcolm? Site B?"

"Doctor Alan Grant... It has been a while, all this time and you don't bring out the champagne? I'm a little offended." It's all done in jest as the smile comes back once he's on flat ground.

He's leaning heavily against the cane though, even on such ground.

"Next time I need to walk a few miles to meet you, I'm calling you to come get me. This terrain's a nightmare."

The jovial nature's gone a moment as he winces, accidentally putting more weight than he should on the injured leg.

"Anywhere to sit and chat? I'd love to stand and chat but if I stand any longer, this leg might call it quits."

The jovial nature fully disappears a moment later though. A frown on his face.

"Get that invitation too to the new mess they decided was a good idea to build?.. Also, why did you never tell me you went to Sorna too? I know we aren't exactly best friends here but we could at least share our experiences with Site B."

[alxngrant]

There was a certain irony in just how well Alan was doing these days.

After the incident on Isla Sorna, he had only grown more bitter and resentful of InGen and their monsters--especially after his attempt to reveal illegally bred animals like the Spinosaurus was covered up. But now, with Simon Masrani's big announcement of the upcoming Jurassic World?

Interest in dinosaurs had skyrocketed, and he had become a very busy man. Funny how that worked.

He'd been given a formal invitation to attend the grand opening free of charge, of course... and of course, he had politely declined. He was quite happy in the dirt, among the bones. Sometimes, he idly wondered if they invited Malcolm too, amused at the idea of their biggest critic visiting the new park.

Ah.... speak of the devil, and he shall appear, apparently.

Squinting in the midday sun at the black-jacketed figure hobbling his way, Alan tried and failed to suppress an irritated sigh. This was going to be interesting.

"Billy, Henry, we'll go over everything in a bit," he said, nodding to the pair of students he was working with. Billy was doing quite well after the whole Pteranodon incident; he'd even told Henry Loomis a... slightly exaggerated version of events. Astronauts, the both of them.

Alan made his way to the bottom of the hill, ready to meet Ian on flat ground.

"Ian Malcolm. It's been awhile."

{ @alxngrant liked for a starter from Ian Malcolm!! }

Grant really likes it out here? In the dirt? This hellishly uneven ground?

He's moved his cane in his hand for the seventh time this walk, uneven ground had never agreed with his leg that seemed to never truly recover from the injury it had sustained a while ago.

He crests a hill, taking a breather as he analyses the site.

He couldn't take a helicopter in like Hammond had, he'd remembered how flustered Alan had been on the trip to the island about it. Talking about it in such a condescending tone.

Of course Hammond hadn't of cared...

Not to mention he couldn't take a car in either, something about unauthorised car tyres ruining things.

He spies the familiar cowboy-looking hat Grant seems to never take off while sleeping, and feels a small smile appear momentarily...

Only momentary because this walk down the fucking hill, though small, was going to be torture.

Eighth time he moves the cane in his hand to try and get a better feeling for it, to better support his leg, then he trundles down with more care than Hammond most likely would if he was in a similar state.

He's sure his approach is well-noticed by Grant. He isn't exactly hiding it, still being a big fan of dark clothing against the backdrop of dirt tends to stick out.

[alxngrant]

"Any family, sir?"

"Afraid not." He may have gotten better with kids over the years, but actually having one was another matter entirely. "One could say I'm married to my work at this point."

[alxngrant]

Ask my muse increasingly personal questions. See how far you can push them.

[alxngrant]

"What got you into your profession?"

"That's... a complicated question." And yet, there was a small smile on his face. "But I certainly started my interest in science when I was pretty young. At first, it was just your average childhood fascination with these big, prehistoric behemoths of a bygone era. As I learned more, though, I realized just how much there was to discover. Science is the truth about the world, and I not only wanted to know the truth, but give that truth to everyone else."

At one point, that was probably a naive dream to make the world a better place--now, he considered himself lucky if he got even one person's attention outside of his students.

[alxngrant]

((Haven't done anything over here in a hot minute so... send Grant questions and concerns?))

[alxngrant]

At first, all Alan could do was blink in utter shock. Clearly, he had missed the clothes, perhaps distracted by everything else going on with Miranda's powerful and brightly-colored form, but the sound of her speaking certainly shook him out of his reverie.

"...I'm sorry?"

He isn't sure if he's instinctively apologizing for being rude or just confused that a giant axolotl is pointing it out to him at all. That was just not the sort of thing that happened to him on a regular basis. Finally, the man shook his head, trying his best to regain his composure.

"Now, wait, hold on a minute--who are you, exactly?"

He'd ask 'why can you talk,' but that seemed like a stupid question at this point.

The water drips off her sides, trails down in long rivulets to gather inside the lower bowl of her top, alongside the long drapes that run from her high collar all the way to the terminus of her hips. They don't handle the water like how landfolk clothes might, made of plants that would soak up all the seawater and carry it with them, but it's not really water repellent either.

Miranda always found that funny. She doesn't know why the landfolk would think such — maybe just because of their own lack of materials designed to be worn for long periods underwater, a pitiful selection remaining which mostly would cling close to the skin? They also think the same about her, about her scales, but that just goes to show how much Miranda knows that they've never actually touched her while she's wet.

They also think she should shake herself dry. Biased by her own body shape, she thinks, that they assume she should behave like other animals they are more familiar with, the kind that cannot speak. She doesn't do that either — she tilts her head up to the sky, golden light shimmering off of the droplets that trail off her chin and trickle down her throat, all shiny and gilt the same as the crown on her head or the necklaces hanging over her chest, and she blinks into the midday, tail still in the surf.

She has to pause there, for a while. Hard to remember how gravity works, at least for a few moments, her hands still in the sand and crumbling around her claws. She wasn't designed for gravity, wasn't made to push herself up against the weight of a planet, so different from the sweet embrace she was made for. But she's done this before. It's old habit by now, to gather herself, shift her weight back towards her hips with one smooth movement, using her tail as a brace, to push her chest and shoulders up off the ground, catching herself before she can push too far in the other direction.

Someone else, looking in, might liken her to a komodo dragon. Some other tide surfer, long and big and somewhat reptilian in make, able to rear back up onto her hind legs. She doesn't sit as high up as one, can't push herself all the way back onto her hips to lift up vertically, but she wouldn't be opposed to the comparison. She too, has been looking around for leavings in this stretch of beach, with some promising treasures tucked to her side in a net gathering bag, shells and bones and other hard objects for her craft.

This is a public beach, so the onlooker is not noticed nor of note for quite a while. Not like her, to stray so far from her personal stretches, the places where she won't be bothered, where she can keep unwitting interactions to a minimum, but she felt adventurous, today. If she can be adventurous in the city, then surely she can explore along this path of coastline, far away from the real beaches, the places where the landfolk ( and herself, frankly, if she felt like being courteous ) prefer to sun themselves and dart into the waves to wash off the heat of spring starting to mature into the simmer of summer like growth pains. It's rockier here, not as much golden sand, not as much to see, with cooler water in the shadow of cliffs which might take swimmers under, the water eroding away their grey faces into crumbling expanses that would hurt under bare feet.

But she doesn't have to worry about such things, not in the same accord. Slipping under is easier here when you're already used to open water, and the new tricks aren't anything she hasn't heard or seen already, and nothing is really so dangerous to her in turn anyways.

There's more caverns here, she thinks, something hollowed out by the sea. There might be better materials around there, if she can find one, sheltered away from prying eyes and from the worst of the ravages of the high tide. They would be nice and cool, like the water, shade from the beating sun already heating her uppermost side.

She huffs, flaring nostrils with the exhale as she looks down over herself, makes sure she hasn't lost her bearings in the switch to dry land again. Her breath mists in the air, salty and warm, spraying out in a fine cloud.

Then, and only then, does she care to pay attention to the onlooker, standing there so silently and impolitely, quite rude to a fellow beachcomber. She lifts a hand up to adjust one of her necklaces, aligning it back towards the center, and she doesn't even look up at him, makes no further indication that she has been paying any mind to him at all. Miranda doesn't need to, after all, if he hasn't bothered to make the first move anyways, and especially if he's been staring at her this entire time.

"May I help you?" The words are pointed, just slightly prickly enough to gesture at the lapse in manners. Her voice is deep, smooth, spoken like a bass strummed and equally as possessing of a strange, melodic quality, the control and distant rhythm of a practiced singer met with the reprieve of something like whale song, making the syllables turn strange. She decides to open her mouth as she speaks, light glancing off the blades of her teeth, because she has learned the landfolk don't like it as much when she doesn't enunciate herself.

"It is quite rude to stare, you are familiar, yes?"

[alxngrant]

"...please, explain how this was a shitshow for the criminals and no one else." It was no 'world famine conspiracy,' but still...

    ❛ ORGANISED CRIME? This latest bust was a fucking shitshow!! ❜

@alxngrant ♥'d for a canon dialogue starter.

[alxngrant]

"A few, actually." He turned, gesturing for Soldan to follow him down the corridor and to the main exhibit hall. "They only just recently managed to set up the displays for public viewing."

And there were quite a few: dinosaur skeletons of all shapes and sizes, a couple large pterosaur skeletons hanging from the ceiling above, and scattered fragments or partial skeletons of various other animals in display cases.

"What's your favorite animal? That might be a good place to start."

"That'ss sso true! I read a lot about hisstory and science, even plant life!" Soldan hummed, lost in thought. "Yet, I take a lot of notess! I have two entire sketchbooks full of information I learned for a long time! I need reorganize them, but I'm too lazy." shrugging, shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you!" "Now! You mentioned ssome new fossils?" eyes brightened up, black pupils going wide.

[alxngrant]

"Heh, I was hoping she'd make it sound a little more exciting," Alan joked. He knew paleontology wasn't exactly the most riveting work in the world, but that just meant you needed to have true passion for what you were doing--something he tried to instill in his students if he could.

Alas, Dr. Alan Grant is not really the epitome of 'fun.'

"But I'm glad she's covering all her bases. Paleontology is more than just digging. You need to be able to tell bone from rock, to extract fragile fossils without damaging them--and the method is different depending on the bone, and the sediment it's found in--and, of course, there's preparation. And that's all well before you get to a museum."

"I'm under the impression that her work is two-fold. One aspect involves the cataloguing and preserving of discovered fossil specimens at the museum. Given how delicate some artifacts can be, I imagine that's quite a process."

"The other one, I would assume, would be the actual acquisition of said fossils at dig sites. I'm uncertain of how one actually *finds* a dig site, but I assume there's a lot of research into environmental conditions and history that leads to areas where such things are likely to be found. From there, I imagine it's a slow and careful process of unearthing the fossils without damaging them. I would assume the use of shovels and picks for initial earth-breaking, but mostly breaking down an areas and systematically working through the dirt layer by layer using something more delicate, like a brush."

"Of course, there are other aspects too. Transportation, documentation and such."