fanfiction What I've been doing in Ark

[Chudz66]

Ark Date: Day 800ish

 

Total Caverns of Lost Faith runs in the last three weeks: 4,265   (At least that’s what it feels like….)

 

 

I roll out of bed a little groggy and grab a Stim-Berry Screamer from my Rex-Fridge, chug it down, and give it a few seconds to hit. “One, One-Thousand, Two, One-Thou-- WAAAA-HOOOOO!”  Nothing like being instantly awake . . . and needing to pee really, really badly. Be right back!

 

So I’m dressed in my wet suit and tank, two scuba masks and a set of flippers dangling from one hand, and now all I have to do is find Lenny. He’s my jerboa friend who has a tendency to get into trouble. Just last week, he got into my beer stash, and I found him banging on a mini-set of war drums at two in the morning in the middle of all the birds. They were drawing straws to see which one would get to eat him.

 

Five minutes later, I catch him climbing out the window of the storage area. And basically, it looks like a rainbow threw up on him. He’s been in the dyes again.

 

“Have you been eating dye again?” I say rather loudly.

 

Lenny makes a little squeak, loses his balance, and plops on the ground, leaving a multi-colored splat. Wasting no time, he springs to his feet, adopts a pose of pure innocence, and shakes his head from side to side.

 

“Um-hum, let me see your tongue.”

 

Lenny sticks his tongue out.

 

Yep, purple. It’s his favorite flavor. “C’mon, we’re going caving,” I say and toss the extra mask to him.

 

He easily snags it out of the air and starts wiggling it on over his newly orange ears, as I turn and head for the dock. I’m halfway there when I feel him grab one of the straps for my scuba tank and use it to clamber on up to his perch on my shoulder. Great, now I probably have pink and yellow jerboa prints all over my back.

 

In short order, we arrive at the dock. A place where once upon a time my sleek motorboat was berthed. Now, it is home to three cramped Basilosauruses and Duffy the Dolphin. I don’t see Duffy, though, but he’s probably still hiding under the ramp after our first attempt at finding deep sea loot crates a couple of days ago.

 

Max sees me first and sings a whalely-hello, which is soon echoed by his mate, Tilly. Ariel, our pride and joy, on the other hand looks like she has her flippers crossed and is thinking, “Not the caverns. Not the caverns. Not the caverns.”

 

“Who wants to go to the Caverns of Lost Faith?” I ask.

 

Max sings something in whale, pretends it’s the ringtone on his imaginary cellphone, pantomimes answering it, and then shifts toward the wall so he’s out of eye contact. When I look over at Tilly, she’s actually knitting a sweater. I didn’t think that was even possible, but it is ARK after all. Poor Ariel. When I look at her, fins all droopy, head bowed, tail not moving, I know she feels exactly the way I do about another trip to the Caverns. But the Rex Base has submitted a request for a better armored saddle BP, and it’s our job to deliver.

 

“Yah, I know how you feel, Ariel. Maybe you’ll get to play with some sharks along the way, though. Heck, I think I even saw an Alpha out that way when Tawny and I were gathering stone.”

 

The mention of an Alpha perks her up a little.

 

“Plus, you might get to play tag with Bub, and Trevor’s a lot more fun now that he’s decided to go vegetarian.” Crud, that reminds me, I have to get some savoroots before we head out.

 

Ariel heaves a sigh of resignation, sending small waves through the tiny dock area, before sounding that she’ll go.

 

“That’s my gal,” I say, then add, “I’ll be right back.” Now, I just have to head to the garden for those savoroots.

 

So I’m back and sitting in Ariel’s saddle when I realize Lenny is no longer on my shoulder. Ugh! “Where did that jerboa get off to now?”

 

Tilly gives a little alert and points a knitting needle toward the spire of our heavy metal, snail pen. I gaze upward past the stained glass windows and watch as a red and black dimorphodon drifts past the turret at the top. Then I spy Lenny. He’s crouched beneath the weapon, tensed and ready to go.  He just has this thing about trying to catch dimorphs. Kind of like a dog and a car, I guess.

 

“This is not going to end well,” I say without thinking, and all three Basilos nod in agreement.

 

Seeing his chance, Lenny leaps for all he’s worth.

 

The dimorphodon, somehow sensing a variegated jerboa assault, nonchalantly performs an Immelmann, causing Lenny to shoot underneath with a squeal. In free fall now, my friend flaps his tiny, orange and blue arms like crazy, before landing with a meaty thud on Max’s tail.

 

There’s a collective intake of breath until Lenny gives a green thumbs up a few seconds later. He lurches to his feet, staggers around in a circle, and then stumbles off the trailing edge of Max’s left fluke.

 

Sploosh!

 

Max raises his tail in the air, eyeing the dye splat that Lenny left behind. It’s kind of psychedelic looking, if you ask me. While up above, the dimorph flies in a lazy circle before alighting upon the nearby behemoth gate.

 

A cloud of dye stains the water where Lenny entered, making it hard to locate him. And just as I’m about to jump in, he starts rising majestically from the sea and gliding toward me. Duffy the Dolphin to the rescue.

 

Poised atop the ichthyosaurus’ head like he’s surfing, Lenny seems none the worse for wear. It even looks like some of the dye has washed off, which isn’t a bad thing. What’s left, though, seems to have blended with other nearby colors, and now he looks more Swamp Thing-ish than like the Mardi Gras float of a few moments ago.

 

As I’m pondering this, Duffy eases up beside Ariel, and Lenny nimbly hops the gap between the two. He comes over to me and snaps a smart salute.  The first thing I notice is the fine web of cracks in the lens of his scuba mask. Ugh, I’ll have to repair that when we get back. The second thing I notice is that no water got in his mask, so part of his face is still a bright blue, making him look like an extra from, “Braveheart.”  And the third thing I don’t notice until he smiles. Yep, he definitely chipped a tooth during that fall. I grab him before he can get into more trouble and place him back on my shoulder. Of course, he decides to shake his wet fur out like a dog when he’s up there. Yeeee!

 

“Thanks, Duffy!” I say, turning my attention back to Lenny’s savior. “And in honor of your rescue of the little nincompoop on my shoulder, I think“--Lenny smacks me playfully in the back of the head with his tail--“ow, a reward is in order.”   I start digging through my inventory, and . . . there it is, a Sizzling Salmon bar. It’s salmon jerky dusted with ghost pepper powder and then dipped in dark chocolate. Duffy loves them. In fact, they’re the only reason he agreed to go deep sea loot crate hunting with me before. I took a bite of one once, and let’s just say compared to that time I got eaten by an Alpha Rex (R.I.P. Monkey Pug!) I think I’d choose getting eaten again over taking another bite. I unwrap the treat, placing the brightly colored foil packaging back in inventory, and toss the bar to Duffy. He catches it easily and wolfs it down. Ariel holds one flipper up and the ichthyosaurus slaps it with one of his own before slipping beneath the water. Hmm, high-flipper . . . nice touch.

 

Finally, we’re on our way. Of course it takes a sixty-two point turn to get out of the dock area, thanks to the cramped quarters. I’m really going to have to take the time to build a dedicated sea pen one of these days.

 

Heading north, Ariel is swimming along the surface at a moderate pace, her undulations causing the water to repeatedly rise from my knees to my chest and sink back down again. As far as Lenny goes, he’s in full sightseeing mode, looking back over our wake, then trilling happily as a rose colored pelagornis glides over us, heading for shore. Me? I’m happy I have a new wetsuit, which is keeping me warm in the chilly morning waters. Ariel has a special ability that helps with that as well, so between the two, I should be able to stay deep in the ocean without having to worry about that biting cold anymore.

 

Fifteen minutes, and two unlucky megalodons later, I can see the rock formations along the beach that signal we’re halfway to our dive spot. Ariel seems to be in a better mood, too. Heck, she tore through those sharks in such brutal fashion that she must have gotten rid of some pent up frustration. As if in response to my thoughts, she opens her blowhole and releases a spout, which refracts the light briefly, creating a tiny rainbow. Lenny gives a hoot of approval and jabs a spear toward the sky.

 

Whoa! Wait! What? When the heck did he get his grubby little mitts on a spear?

 

Seconds stream by as I tick through a few possibilities, and come to a conclusion. Most likely, one of those sharks ate someone in the past and still had their items in inventory. Which . . . after being devoured in turn by Ariel would have transferred them to her inventory. Which . . . was probably rifled through by a certain jerboa who holds little regard for the personal property rights of others. . . .

 

By Jove! I think I've got it. Now, how do I get the spear away from him? Because I know if he starts going all stabby with it, I'm probably going to end up being one of the first casualties.

 

As it turns out, it's not a difficult task at all. I remove a fishing pole and some honey from my inventory and offer it to Lenny. He looks at the items, looks at the spear, looks back at the items, looks back at the spear, tosses the spear into the sea, and snatches the proffered items from my hands.

 

Lenny's idea of fishing, when using honey as bait, is one honey for him and one honey for the fish. This then escalates into two honey for him and one honey for the fish, etc. He's going to be wired in no time. And as the fishing hook swings by my face for the third time in short order, I'm grateful for my scuba mask, and am starting to wonder if I'd be safer if he'd kept the spear.

 

A while later, we reach the dive point and begin our descent. Ariel is following the trail of bubbles that are drifting upward from the mouth of the cavern far below. Meanwhile, Lenny, who ate twenty-one honey and caught zero fish, is nearly vibrating from the sugar rush. To burn off some of the excess energy, he's holding my collar and trying to smack each bubble with his tail as it goes by. Everything is going well until Lenny's tail smacks a glowing bubble . . . that just so happens to be connected to an inquisitive angler fish. This sparks a minor altercation which soon grows into a free-for-all as two more anglers join the party, followed by three megalodons, and a manta that has nothing else better to do.

 

The battle is a twisting, turning affair filled with gnashing teeth and Lenny repeatedly hitting me in the head with the fishing rod as he tries to poke things. Yep, definitely a good call on getting rid of that spear. Ariel has things under control, though, and a handful of minutes later finds all but one of our adversaries devoured by her. The lone survivor, one of the angler fish, is beating a hasty retreat and soon disappears into the murky distance.

 

We resume our travels after a brief rest. As we go deeper, Ariel begins to pick up speed, and I can feel the force of the water pressing me backward in the saddle. Lenny, who has thankfully put away the fishing pole, is back to gripping my collar with both paws, the rest of his body streaming out behind like he’s flying. Basilosauruses aren’t fond of going below a certain depth, as the pressure starts to negatively affect them, so Ariel intends to sprint through this last leg of the journey.

 

Now plunging downward, our surroundings grow dimmer as we go. The seaweed forest looms into view; we’re almost to the entrance. A heartbeat later, Ariel goes into a half-spin and pulls out of her dive, shooting into the darkened maw of the Caverns of Lost Faith. She’s following the incline of the ceiling now, powerful tail propelling us forward, trying to get away from the pain that this depth causes her. I’m leaned all the way forward, and Lenny is doing his best two-dimensional impersonation as the rocky, uneven ceiling blurs by above us. And just when I think Lenny and I are going to be scraped off Ariel’s back, we reach the top of her rise and come to a halt.

 

Our sudden entry into this area disturbs the kelp-like strands of seaweed that grow here, causing them to sway violently. This movement in turn causes the light from the bioluminescent flowers dotting their lengths to paint the walls in a shifting display of gold and shadow that will continue until things calm down. I resume a sitting position and give Ariel a thankful pat, to which Lenny adds a thumbs-up. She whistles a low acknowledgement of our acknowledgements and begins gorging herself on the leftover shark meat in her inventory, to regain stamina.

 

A couple of peaceful minutes drift by. Ariel is digesting her meal, and Lenny . . . excitedly grabs my mask and yanks it to the side, filling it partway with water. But when my vision focuses on what his outstretched paw is pointing to, I forgive him. For in the golden glow of the next chamber, I see a red loot crate resting on the sandy floor.

 

“C’mon, Blueprint!” I shout in my mind.

 

It takes two tries, but I manage to clear the water from my mask.  And soon, we’re edging our way into the next chamber of the caverns. We have to be careful because this is where Bub hangs out. Bub, short for Bubbalette (I think she’s French), is a level ninety Alpha Mosa. And after all our trips here, we may be on a first name basis, but that doesn’t stop her from routinely trying to eat us. And since she’s too tough for us three to handle, we usually try and slip by her. But when there’s a crate in this first section, things can become quite dicey.

 

Two other tunnels lead deeper into the caverns from this chamber. And as Ariel continues her slow advance, I see Bub’s reddish glow emanating from the tunnel on the right. I urge my faithful basilo to keep going, and soon I can see Bub’s enormous orange bulk situated so she can see the tunnel wall. She’s watching her new Plasma TV. (I wonder if the delivery guy lived….)

 

Sweet! When she’s watching TV, Bub won’t mess with us unless we bug her too much. So I slip out of the saddle and swim for the crate, daydreaming of an end to these constant trips. I open it and find . . . forty-two empty pizza boxes from Piranah Pies.

 

“Bub! How many times have I told you these things aren’t garbage cans?” I think furiously in her direction.

 

I look back up the tunnel, and Bub is waving one giant flipper in a dismissive fashion. I’m not sure how we can actually communicate with each other, but we somehow do. Oh wait, there’s something else in the crate. Reaching back in, I pull out an, “Ark for Dummies,” book.

 

“Very funny, Bub! Very funny,” I think, and the caverns fill briefly with her chortling. I start swimming back to Ariel and notice she’s trying her best not to smile. Le sigh!

 

From there, we take the tunnel to the left, bypassing Bub completely. The next several loot crate spots turn up empty, until we come upon the alcove containing the ruins. Maria the Ammonite is in there with her usual audience, a large contingent of Coelacanth and Sabertooth Salmon. She’s an Ammonite Opera singer, and a very good one at that, judging by the size of her audience. And trust me on this, you don’t want to give her a bad review. Noticing the yellow glow spilling out of the ruins beside her, I leave Ariel behind in the shallow canal and start making my way through all the fish gathered at the surface.

 

“Wow, with all the fish here, it must be swimming room only,” I quip.

 

Not a big fan of my puns, Lenny smacks me in the head with his tail, then we both cringe and go absolutely still, hoping he didn’t hit a salmon on accident. Seeing as we’re still alive a few seconds later, we vow no more puns until we’re out of here, and continue on our way. Closing in on the stone ruins, I gently nudge some of the fish in the cheap seats out of the way, getting a few dirty looks, then Lenny and I are feet dry.

 

Ugh, walking in flippers is always so awkward. I open the glowing lid of the loot crate as quietly as possible, so as not to disturb the performance going on, and find . . . one black sock with a lunging tiger printed on it in full color, which is quickly grabbed by Lenny. And I also find . . . a rock with big, googly eyes glued to it.

 

“Seriously, a pet rock in a yellow loot crate?” I ask anyone from the RNG department who just so happens to be listening. A few shushes filter into the ruins from the fish gathered outside. Argh!

 

I manage to regain my composure . . . until Lenny, tiger sock on one arm like it’s a puppet starts pretending it’s pouncing and biting me on the head. He’s even growling each time, earning us more shushes.

 

So, I manage to regain my composure for the second time and glare at Lenny, who gets one more pounce in before wisely putting the sock away. Afterward, we wait for the perfect moment and close the lid of the loot crate just as Maria ends her performance, cutting off most of the alcove’s light in dramatic fashion. Once the ovation finishes, we filter out with the rest of the crowd.

 

Now, we’re back on Ariel and heading toward the last big room before the artifact chamber. It’s a short jaunt that usually takes a minute, but thanks to concert traffic, it takes us thirty. Sigh. Finally, though, we’re just about ready to enter, so I hand Lenny the bag of savoroots. It’s Trevor time.

 

Trevor is a regular Mosa that’s stuck in this chamber unless he manages to lose a ton, or several tons, of weight. So we eventually came to an agreement, we’d help him on the veggie/exercise front, and he wouldn’t try to eat us for real. I give Ariel the signal, and she shoots forward eagerly.

 

Bioluminescence reveals what appears to be a large outcropping of rock along the floor of the chamber. But it’s not rock, it’s Trevor. He surges upward, strokes of his tail leaving huge, billowing clouds of silt in his wake. Rising, he barrels through the kelp-like forest between us, tearing most of it apart, and leaving the rest in wild motion. Ariel adjusts course, heading straight for his gaping maw. Meanwhile, Lenny has a death grip on my collar with one paw, the bag of savoroots clamped firmly in his teeth, and the tiger sock is back on his other arm, roaring a challenge toward the dark gray leviathan. 

 

He’s almost upon us when Ariel cuts gracefully to the side, barely avoiding contact. The force of his passage through the water, though, sends us out wider in our turn than expected. Sensing this, Ariel spins, managing to avoid slamming full on into a nearby wall. Instead, she scrapes it with her tail, sending a few pebbles spiraling into the depths. Back under control, she starts to put some distance between Trevor and us. Lenny takes the opportunity to reach into the bag with his tiger-socked arm and pull out a savoroot, before releasing it into our wake.

 

Trevor’s attempt at changing course isn’t quite as graceful as Ariel’s. He starts to turn, then slams full force into the cavern wall shaking the chamber noticeably. Debris from the ceiling plunges into the water’s surface some twenty feet above our heads and begins to sink. Now we’re trying to dodge that as well. And so we lead Trevor on a chase, Lenny leaving savoroots in our wake as we go.

 

Eventually, we run out of savoroots, and Lenny starts waving the empty bag like a surrender flag. Realizing his workout is done for the day, the Mosasaur glides to a halt, nabbing the last treat as he does. Ariel hangs a U-turn, and we head back toward a smiling Trevor. Or at least I think/hope he’s smiling. As we slide to a halt in front of him, I think, “What would you like next time, big guy?” A picture of Longrass plants waving in a windswept field comes to mind, and I have my answer. “You got it, buddy.” We say our good byes, even though we’ll be seeing him again in a few minutes as we leave this place. But seeing as Trevor likes a good nap after a workout, it’s probably best saying them now.

 

Ariel swims us up the inclined tunnel leading to the artifact chamber at a leisurely pace. And there it is, glowing in the water, the Artifact of the Brute. I probably could have been rich by now, if I had an auction site to put these things on. Instead, I just leave them as is. And--

 

“OMG!” I think, as I realize the last loot crate is in the water not too far from the artifact. And it’s red! I get Ariel’s attention, and we ease over in that direction along the surface. Taking a look around when we arrive, I don’t notice anything dangerous, which means all the eels and jellies are hiding. I hop off Ariel’s saddle and get right back on and . . . yep. There’s a lone eel, big grin on his face, swimming like crazy at us. However, before he gets much closer, two jellyfish tentacles rise up from behind some seaweed and yank him down, out of sight. No doubt, he’s now getting lectured on the finer points of an ambuscade.

 

Lenny starts humming on my shoulder as I’m trying to figure out what to do. I can chance a dash and grab. But if there’s a bunch hidden, and one of them stuns me, I’m probably going down before Ariel can come to the rescue. Hmm, I liked this room much better when the jellies and eels weren’t so wise to Basilosauruses’ powers and just hung out in the open. My reverie is interrupted by the sound of a line being cast.

 

Lenny has the fishing pole out again, and his first cast is right on target, managing to hook the lid of the loot crate. A second later, I hear him start to reel in followed shortly by the sound of a loot crate opening. Somewhat awed, I watch the lid rise and see a saddle in there but can’t tell if there’s anything else. Lenny manages to unset the hook and reels the line back in for his next cast. As he’s doing this, an angry eel pops up from behind some suspiciously familiar seaweed and starts heading for us, a determined look on his face. He manages to make it a whole three feet before getting yanked out of sight again by more jellyfish tentacles.

 

The next cast lands perfectly, and Lenny hooks the saddle. The jerboa starts reeling his catch in, straining as it probably weighs as much as he does. In the background, I see that same eel pop up out of the seaweed and struggle to get free of the tentacles restraining him. He sure is determined, I’ll give him that. I guess the jellies are still holding out hope that I’ll jump in and swim to the crate. But Lenny’s on a roll, so there’s no way that’s going to happen. And as the saddle gets closer, I notice the aqua aura of an ascendant piece. Unfortunately, it’s the wrong shape. I scoop it out of the water and free Lenny’s line before taking a better look. Yep, it’s an ascendant manta saddle, just what we--I mean the grinder--needs. Ariel, Lenny, that eel, and I all look back at the loot crate. It’s still there, meaning there’s more inside.

 

“C’mon blueprint!” I yell with gusto, causing my mount to spaz a little. “Sorry, Ariel, didn’t mean to startle you.” Lenny whaps me in the head with his tail and casts the line again.

 

The hook enters the water with a plop and sinks right into the box. The tip of the jerboa’s tongue is sticking out the side of his mouth as he makes some minor adjustments, and then starts reeling in for all he’s worth.

 

A blueprint leaps out of the crate, which disappears in a haze of red sparkles. In the background, I can see the eel bellowing a drawn out, “Noooooooooooo!”

 

Blinding light suddenly floods the bottom of the chamber as a mass of jellies and eels rise from the seaweed. I guess they gave up on waiting. Holy jerboas, there has to be over two hundred of them, and they’re trying to block our escape.

 

The blueprint breaches the surface, streams of water trailing it through the air. At a glance, I think it might be what we’ve been after this whole time, a diagram for a Rex saddle. Ariel is already heading for the exit, snapping at anything that gets too close. We’re close to being overwhelmed, and--

 

[The last glimpse before things go dark paints a picture from the following point of view. You’re in Trevor’s area, at the bottom of the tunnel that leads into the artifact chamber, looking upward. There’s a veritable wall of eels and jellyfish, and a Basilosaurus has almost broken through the barrier of light. The upper half of her body is visible, and she’s in the act of crushing two squirming eels in her mouth. Silhouetted atop her is her rider. He appears to be stout and leaning forward in the saddle for balance, as a shadowy figure clings to his left shoulder. This tiny figure appears to be holding a fishing pole, and as you trace the length of it with your eyes, you see a saddle blueprint being dragged at the end of a hook . . . but are unable to make out which one it is.]

 

 

 

[Chudz66]

Epilogue

 

Well, we made it out alive. . . .

 

It’s around noon now, and the sun is providing a pleasant warmth as Ariel heads south along the surface toward base. My eyes roam over the varied features of the Western Coast as it drifts by, thinking about the blueprint that might have been. Turns out the one that Lenny snagged is for a Mammoth, which I tend to mix up with the Rex one when taking a quick glance. Oh well, I guess we have run number 4,266 to look forward to, heh.

 

And after all the effort Ariel put in during that last trip, especially with getting us out of that swarm, I’ve vowed to halt runs until I’ve completed a standalone sea pen, so she and the others will have more room. Plus, once that’s done, she can have some younger brothers and/or sisters to play with, which I’m pretty sure she’d enjoy. I’m also pretty sure that if anyone offers her a jelly donut or an Anago dish in the near future that she’s going to barf.

 

Lenny is still on my shoulder, facing backward now with the fishing pole out. He’s wearing his mask, has the Pet Rock we found balanced precariously on one shoulder, and the ever present tiger sock. He’s trolling for fish as we go and having an in-depth conversation with both the rock and the tiger. I kind of want to know what they’re saying, because every once in a while he will give a loud guffaw and smack me in the forehead with his tail.

 

Time passes, and the platform of the main base comes into view. “Home Sweet Home!” I think, just as Lenny’s line starts spinning out at a maddening pace. Hearing it, Ariel stops and turns a bit, her interest piqued.  And with a bad feeling, I grab Lenny right as he sets the hook. Good thing, too, because we’re both almost yanked out of the saddle. He’s got ahold of something big. Shortly, though, the pulling stops, and my jerboa friend utters a questioning trill.

 

A few tense moments pass before the reason becomes apparent. It’s due to the fact that Lenny’s catch is now heading directly for us. I can tell because I see a huge white dorsal fin, wreathed in red luminescence, rising farther out of the ocean as it is closing in. I turn my head and find Ariel giving me an expectant look.

 

“Let’s do it,” I say, and we’re off to another battle. . . .