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Found 35 results

  1. GenTech1000

    fanfiction Marcus Notes [Collection]

    I have posted these before, but for convenience reasons, I will now be posting the all past and future Marcus Notes sections on this single thread. I hope this helps those who found difficulty keeping up with all of the separate threads. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story of Marcus Torgana! Marcus Torgana, who comes from the same time as Diana, is a scientist of the Terran Federation. He is now head of the survivor’s research division. 1 I thought I had seen everything, from dinosaurs to invisible barriers, but I could never had imagined this. The barrier falling caused solar radiation to leak into the space station that is our island, turning the surface into a mass of fire and destruction. On the positive side, I and the rest of the survivors made it into a cave system, protecting us from the hell above. I am starting to question why we are truly here. 2 I must admit, we’ve done better than I thought we would. We established a new home base and even have some Hyper Chambers. However, what’s more incredible is the ecosystem down in these caverns. Creatures beyond my wildest dreams exist here, as well as creatures from my worst nightmares. What I am disappointed about, is we cannot fly down here. Something with the caves air is preventing our jetpacks from running. However, we may not be able to fly, but we can glide. Using pictures of the old avians of the surface, my team and I were able to develop a glider suit. And hopefully, as the technology advances, we can create a form of flying transportation. On a side note, it truly perplexed me how these creatures came to be. The don’t resemble a single animal from Earth, yet they are here. I wonder what caused their creation... 3 That traitorous Santiago! To think I was his friend! I should bust into his dwelling, and strangle him with my own hands. How dare he steal MY idea and say it is his own? And those URE buffoons in their shiny armor gawking and gaping at him spreading LIES! They wouldn’t believe me if I said it was my idea, the snake made it impossible for me to do so. Oh, I miss you, copyright. No matter, I can get back at him later. But for now I need to focus on the “Gateway Project” as they call it. I think the name “The Exodus Program” is still better. 4 The “Gateway Project”, just saying the name brings a fowl taste to my mouth. However, we have come along greatly with Santiago’s, A.K.A. my work. The shear size of it is a sight to behold. The first ring has been constructed and the others are on the way. There is one problem, the energy required for the entire thing to function is immense and we currently do not have a clue of where to get it. However, the obelisks are connected straight to the Ark’s power source. That seems to be the best course of action. I am sending out a research team tomorrow to the surface to take a look at the obelisks. Hopefully, all will go well. I wish them the best of luck. 5 This Mei-Yin is quite the interesting person. Not only has she been surviving on her own, but she comes from Ancient China AND can control the feathered beasts from below. After finding a burnt out piece of armor on the surface a search party was sent out into the caverns to find our guest. At first, she fled from us, however we were able to calm her with Diana removing her helmet. From there we took her to base. Maybe she’s smarter than most of those URE idiots leading us. She is a very stoic woman, and a stubborn one too. Instead of asking for help when using our tools, she sits there, staring, trying to figure it out. That Diana seems to have noticed. From now on I will not call the “ Gateway Project” by its name, rather, I will call it “Exodus”. Speaking of stolen things, I found a way to get back at Santiago and reclaim MY creation. However, it will take time. 6 This Mei-Yin seems to be adapting to our society quite well, minus a few differences, and seems to be liking it here. I was finally able to examine her creature and figured out how to make a saddle that can connect to its cloaking organs to conceal the rider. I have also made drafts for a Tek saddle for it. On another note, the preparations are made. The plan is, since we need hypercharged element, to created a false signal to fool Santiago into sending a team into the deepest darkest parts of these caves. They get killed by the monsters from below, he is investigated into and “discovered” to be the cause of the incident based on planted evidence, and I can have my revenge at last. He will rue the day he ever messed with me! 7 Damn that Mei-Yin, ruining my perfectly constructed plan. I almost had my retribution! I’ll have to add her to the list of people that I need to kill. However, she may have actually given me hope in the matter. After rescuing Diana and some other man, something beautiful occurred, the miracle of life. Turns out that those monsters from reproduce by impregnating a host via a proboscis-like organ at the end of the female’s tail. The female then injects an egg into the hosts body and flees the scene. The baby then develops like some wasps in a caterpillar, you know, like the usual parasite. However, the birth is the best part. The baby then bursts out on the hosts chest and then attacks everything and all things due to a lack of a sense of smell and sight. However, if it cannot see or smell, how does it recognize its mother? I tracked down one of the females creatures and killed it for dissection. However, to my surprise its body vanished in an acidic cloud of its blood. But to my surprise, I seemed to have receive a some sort of pheromone gland. It seemed edible, but when I consumed it, I gained a horrid odor that lasted for what seemed like hours. Blegh, So that’s how hell’s armpit smells. Luckily, we have power washers to remove such odors. But that must be how they know who their mother is, by sensing the pheromones. This is how we can tame them. This is how I can kill Santiago! I could either: A- Get him impregnated and let the baby do its work. or B- Impregnate myself and raise the baby as a weapon of revenge. I’m leaning towards the latter due to the fame it comes with. I can already see it, ”Marcus Torgana, Tamer of Monsters”. I like the sound of that. Well, off to get more glands, it’s showtime! 8 I cannot believe that they fell for it! Those URE imbeciles are more gullible than I thought! I was given permission to go down into the depths to study the “ environment” and learn as much as I can. However, the “environment” I was looking for was far deeper than the team wanted to go, so I had to bribe a them to come with me. Once down there, I gathered samples of various plant life and other things to not make them suspicious, and I slowly went deeper and deeper towards the creatures’ lair. They attacked us on sight. The colossal forms emerged from the earth, bits of rock and debris falling throw the gaps in their spines. It was a massacre... A BEAUTIFUL MASSACRE!! Luckily, I was able to get samples of the dirt where it tunneled from, the poisonous spines they shoot from their tails, and a piece of its exoskeleton. We escaped, however, afterwards only eighteen out of twenty-five remain. We returned to base immediately, and as soon as word reached the ears of our “leaders” about how I “ran from the fight” and “ cowardly abandoned my team”, I was called to speak with them. They chastised me for about an hour until they finally allowed me to speak. I told them that ...”it was out of nowhere. All of a sudden the creatures came from the earth and tore through my men. Knowing the importance of the knowledge in front of me, I ran and gathered samples from the creatures to gain as much knowledge about them to aid us in the future...” and after about thirty minutes of my persuasion, they soaked it up like a sponge and agreed with my view. I feel bad for the ones that died during this trip, nevertheless, they are merely pawns in my grand plan. And soon, I will have Santiago’s head crunching in the jaws of my pet, and I can reclaim my creation and lead these people from this Ark!
  2. GenTech1000

    fanfiction Element- A History

    This fanfic is about the history of Element, starting from its discovery to its uses later in the years of Homo sapiens. It is sort of like what the homo deus might teach their children. In all seriousness, I hope you enjoy the story of our future. Give it a like if you enjoy it, and watch out for the next chapters. (Chapters should be released on Friday-Sunday) Anyway, enjoy! Chapter 1 The Discovery Year 2189 After humanity was able to do full exploration of the mantle, drillers and excavators flocked to the sites. However, many of those sites came upon a pink, radioactive fluid. Those who were near the sites suffered from radiation poisoning, water pollution, among other things. The government tried to hide the news of this material from the world, blaming it on magma or large uranium deposits, but they failed. The press went wild after hearing news from workers who survived of “...a pink, glowing liquid of death...” as some called it. The press went straight to the major government officials, asking the them things like, “...is this pink substance the cause of the radiation poisoning?” and “...what exactly is this material?”. Seeing that they were in a corner. the governments of the world answered as truthfully as they could. Afterwards, research of the substance was initiated immediately . In the first few months, waterfalls of information we’re discovered. Researchers discovered the material was similar to gasoline, however it was supercharged. The liquid literally hummed with energy. Some researchers said that they heard the liquid “sing” to them. These effects happened due to a new type radiation leaking into their hazard suits. This form of radiation affected the main processing centers of the brain, causing hallucinations, sociopathy, and a variety of other symptoms. However, those who suffered were unknown until found dead, suffering from cognitive disability, or they went insane. Most just suffered mild brain damage, however, some went on darker routes. The radiation ability to affect the victim’s process things such as morality and reason caused many incidents. Several workers went on killing sprees while raving meaningless words or chants. A total of 57 people died due to this. From then on, workers were required to wear to layers of suits in hopes of making sure that similar incidents never reoccurred.
  3. Aberration, the Lost Ark. Note, due to how the forum automatic language censors is going to go crazy with ridiculous word substitutions. I will try the Battlestar Galacticia approach and see what happens. This story is about marines and sailors in the US Naval Forces. The use of foul language was common place back then. It certainly was in the 60s in the military in Vietnam. Intro. This story is loosely based upon Training flight 19 that vanished without a trace off the coast of Florida, along with a flying boat that was searching for them, in an area that later became known as the Bermuda Triangle. It will be based upon game play of the new DLC map called Aberration, a malfunctioning Ark where one has to be underground given that the force field had been damaged by the early occupants that were trying to escape, turning the surface into a burning death trap. When the control column of this Ark was damaged by an explosion caused by the former survivors, the force field collapsed resulting in the surface being exposed to the harsh environment of Space. The surface became a radioactive wasteland of hellish heat during the day and a devil’s infested play land at night. Nothing can survive up there for long. Down below, in the vast cave system, the radiation exposure has created a world of strange mutated plants, giant trees, and huge mushroom. As the Ark animals mutated to strange new forms, so did the plants. Many new creature evolved, some of them extremely vicious and dangerous, others cute and cuddly. The world below is generally hot and damp with some resources plentiful while other are rare. Alien structures, many of them damaged and overgrown with plant life, dominate some areas of the underground Ark while huge dark caverns are found in others. Earthquakes are common down below where rare resources may sometimes fall down from above lasting for a few seconds for you to gather before they vanish. One does not wander aimlessly in this Ark least they run into the dangerous creatures or the deadly environment hiding there. When one does head to the surface, it is with wearing hazard suits while traveling at night. Deep underground, some real nasty surprises hide in the dark, even a reincarnation of the Aliens Queen that can impregnate a survivor with a chest bursting parasite that is usually fatal. There are no tameable flying creatures on this Ark. There are gliders and climbers, such as a Rock Drake that like the Wyverns, you have to steal their eggs to raise the young. Good luck with that since their eggs require intense cold to hatch, something that doesn’t exist naturally except in the form of a deadly trap on this Ark. Until one can obtain a rock drake, survivors will have to use the climbing picks, zip lines, and wing suits. In short, this Ark is deadly as one works to survive there, tame its creatures, looks for rare resources in the dangerous areas, and attempt to repair the portal so you can escape to the planet down below. It should be noted that Training Flight 19 and the flying boat that was sent to look for them, on December 5th, 1945, still remain missing to this day. Chapter 1, The Lost Flight. Author Note, With the exception of selected paragraphs marked by an *, the rest of this story is fictional. Below is a history of the flight and it’s crew as located from the Internet. Sources included. THE SQUADRON FT – 28 Flight Leader: NASFL Instructor, Lt. Charles Carroll Taylor, USNR. Aircraft: TBM-3D - BuNo 23307. Crew: Gunner George Francis Devlin, AOM3c, USNR. Radioman: Walter Reed Parpart, Jr. ARM3c, USNR. FT – 36 Pilot: Capt. Edward Joseph Powers, USMC. Aircraft: TBM-1C - BuNo 46094. Crew: Gunner Sgt. Howell Orrin Thompson, USMCR. Radioman: Sgt. George Richard Paonessa, USMCR. FT – 81 Pilot: 2nd Lt. Forrest James Gerber, USMCR. Aircraft: TBM-1C - BuNo 46325. Crew: Pfc. William Lightfoot, USMCR. That day, Corporal Allan Kosnar had asked to be excused from this exercise. FT- 3 Pilot: Ensign Joseph Tipton Bossi, USNR. Aircraft: TBM-1C - BuNo 45714. Crew: Gunner Herman Arthur Thelander, S1c, USNR. Radioman: Burt E. Baluk, S1c, USNR. FT- 117 Pilot: Captain George William Stivers Jr., USMC. Aircraft: TBM-1C – BuNo 73209. Crew: Gunner Sgt. Robert Francis Gallivan, USMCR. Radioman: Pfc. Robert Peter Gruebel, USMCR. A brief history of each of the actual crew members on Flight 19; Burt Edward Baluk, Jr., S1c USNR Born 1926 in Bloomfield, New Jersey. Graduated from Bloomfield High School in 1943 and entered service soon after. Radioman on FT-3. He was 19 yrs old. George Francis Devlin, Jr., AOM3c, USNR Born in Brooklyn, New York in 1928. He was eager to help in the war effort and couldn't wait to be of age, so he decided to enlist in the United States Naval Reserve at the age of 15, under the alias of Robert F. Harmon. Trained at Barber's Point NAS Hawaii in 1944, and by March 1945 deployed to Guam and the fleet anchorage at Ulithi, where he reported on board the USS Enterprise. The war ended, and he made his way to Florida where he trained at NAS Fort Lauderdale. He was soon flying as a Gunner on the TBM/TBF Avenger Torpedo Bombers. At 17, he was in the process of having his alias changed to his birth name, when he disappeared with Flight 19. Gunner on FT-28. 2nd Lt. Forrest James Gerber, USMCR Born 1921 in New Ulm, Minnesota. Served in the United States Marine Corps during World War II. Enlisted in January 1942, becoming a Ground Marine first and later an Officer in Training. Became an air cadet in 1944. Had 360.6 hours of flight time, 61.8 on Avengers alone. He had received his gold wings 4 months earlier. Pilot of FT-81. He was 24 yrs old. Capt. Edward Joseph Powers, USMC Born in 1919, in Mount Vernon, New York. Graduated from Princeton University in 1941. On that same year he enlisted in the Marine Corps. Upon graduating, he was assigned as a training instructor at Quantico, Virginia. Later on in 1944, he would request a transfer to become a cadet in the naval air forces. He gave up his commanding position for his desire to fly on the TBM/TBF Avenger torpedo bombers. Though a NASFL student, he was senior officer on flight 19. He was the only married man aboard, and the only father. It was noted that Capt. Power's wife felt a premonition and called the base, several hours before the disappearance. Also noted, is that two months prior when Powers was stationed at NAS Miami, it was reported that his gunner Michael Belvito was missing from the TBM they were flying. The gunner's door and parachute were gone. A search and rescue was launched but nobody found anything. The cause of the gunner's disappearance is still unknown. Capt. Powers was Pilot of FT-36. He was 26 years old. Lt. Charles Carroll Taylor, USNR Born October 25, 1917 in Nueces County, Texas. Taylor was a United States Naval Officer. He served in the United States Naval Reserve during World War II. He graduated from NAS Corpus Christi, Texas, February 1942, and became a flight instructor October of that year. In 1943, he flew with Scouting Squadron 62 and later that year, he became a torpedo plane pilot with Squadron 7. From April to December 1944, he was aboard the USS Hancock as part of Task Force 38. Also part of Acorn 36 at NAS Miami Opa Locka, and Squadron 79. He was recently transferred to NAS Fort Lauderdale (November 21, 1945), where he served as a flight instructor. He had 2,509.3 flight hours, 616 in the Avenger torpedo bombers. He was the commanding officer of Flight 19. Leader pilot in FT-28. He was 28 yrs old. Sgt. Howell Orrin Thompson, USMCR Born 1925 in Chicago, Illinois. Became a Marine Corps Staff Sergeant. May of 1944 he worked as a mechanic at NAS San Diego. March 19, 1945, he was aboard the USS Franklin CV-13 "Big Ben" doing Ordnance when the ship was attacked by a Japanese dive bomber dropping two semi-armor-piercing bombs. In November 1945 he was transferred to NAS Fort Lauderdale to continue training. Gunner on FT-36. He was 20 yrs old. Ensign Joseph Tipton Bossi, USNR Born December 25, 1924 in Arkansas City, Kansas. Attended University of Kansas. He passed up a discharge so that he could stay in the Navy. Had 373.4 hours of flight time, 65.9 on Avengers alone. Pilot of FT-3. He was 20 yrs old. Sgt. Robert Francis Gallivan, USMCR Born 3 July, 1924 in Northampton, Massachusetts. Marine Staff Sergeant, veteran of the WWII battles at Guadalcanal, Bougainville, and Tarawa. From December 15, 1942, Robert was attached to Marine Squadron VMSB-143 as an airplane armorer and torpedo repairman, serving at Henderson Field on Guadalcanal, Solomons Islands. In 1943-44, after the Battle of Tarawa, Robert made his way to NAS Fort Lauderdale where he would train as a Gunner in the TBM/TBF Avenger torpedo bombers. He was going to be discharged and released the following day (December 6, 1945), before his disappearance. Gunner on FT-117. He was 25 yrs old. Pvt. Robert Peter Gruebel, USMCR Born in 1927 in Long Island, New York. Joined the Marines in 1944. Trained at Marine Corps Air Station in Eagle Mountain Lake, Texas. Here, he was part of the Marine Scout Bombing Squadron 931, with Marine Aircraft group 34. October of 1945 trained at NAS Miami, and by December, at NAS Fort Lauderdale training as Radioman/Bombardier aboard TBM/TBF Avenger torpedo bombers. Radioman on FT-117. He was 18 yrs old. Pfc. William Earl Lightfoot, USMCR Born December 1926 in Clayton, Union County, New Mexico. Entered the United States Marine Corps Reserve June of 1943. Trained in Lexington, Illinois. He was the only crewman besides the Pilot on FT-81. He was 19 yrs old. The Naval Air Station Fort Lauderdale Museum exhibits the log book he left behind. It was donated by his family, along with several original artifacts and photographs. Sgt. George Richard Paonessa, USMCR Born Nov. 1917 in Mamaroneck, New York. 3rd of 8 children to Italian immigrants. In 1944, George saw duty as an aerial gunner in Kwajalein Atoll, Marshal Islands. Upon his return, he was assigned training as a Radioman/Bombardier on the TBM/TBF Avenger torpedo bombers at NAS Fort Lauderdale. After his disappearance with Flight 19, Paonessa's family would receive a telegram days later reading "You have been misinformed about me. Am very much alive." Signed with his nickname “Georgie” (reportedly a hoax). Radioman on FT-36. He was 28 yrs old. Walter Reed Parpart, Jr., ARM3c, USNR Born 1927 in Brooklyn, New York. The NAS Fort Lauderdale Museum exhibits the log book he left behind. It was donated by his family, along with original photographs of Walter in uniform, also a Presidential Citation (hand-signed by President Truman), and family correspondence between the mother of Charles Taylor (lead pilot) and Walter's parents. He was the Radioman on FT-28. He was 18 years old. Capt. George William Stivers, Jr., USMC Born April 1920, in Piedmont, Missouri. Graduated from the US Naval Academy in Annapolis, Maryland. In 1942, as a fresh 2nd Lieutenant he was part of the Marine platoon in the 1st Raider Battalion, then part of the 3rd Raider Battalion in 1943. Then, during the Battle of Tarawa in 1943, George was General J. C. Smith's Aide de Camp, in the 2nd Marine Division. He was cited for gallantry, twice on Guadalcanal, and once on Tarawa. In 1944, he became an air cadet. That same year, he received his wings from NAS Corpus Christi. He then transferred to NAS Fort Lauderdale, to train in the TBM/TBF Avenger torpedo bombers. He had 374.7 flight hours. He was Pilot on FT-117. He was 25 yrs old. Herman Arthur Thelander, S1c, USNR. Born in 1926, in Kinbrae, Minnesota (as of the census of 2010 there were 12 people residing in this town). Herman joined the United States Naval Reserve September 1, 1944. He transferred for training several times: from September to November 1944, he was stationed at NAS Jacksonville, Florida. Then from April to June 1945 at NAS Fort Lauderdale, training on the TBM/TBF Avenger torpedo bombers. Gunner on FT-3. He was 19 yrs old. Source; NASFLMuseum.com “It began as nothing more than a routine training flight. At 2:10 p.m. on December 5, 1945, five TBM Avenger torpedo bombers took off from a Naval Air Station in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. The planes—collectively known as “Flight 19”—were scheduled to tackle a three-hour exercise known as “Navigation Problem Number One.” Their triangular flight plan called for them to head east from the Florida coast and conduct bombing runs at a place called Hens and Chickens Shoals. They would then turn north and proceed over Grand Bahama Island before changing course a third time and flying southwest back to base. Save for one plane that only carried two men, each of the Avengers was crewed by three Navy men or Marines, most of whom had logged around 300 hours in the air. The flight’s leader was Lieutenant Charles C. Taylor, an experienced pilot and veteran of several combat missions in World War II’s Pacific Theater.”* The flight proceeded as normal as the five aircraft headed to their target point of Hens and Chicken’s Shoals to drop their bombs. Then, things seem to go horribly wrong as a weather front was approaching. “Damn, my compass has quit working,” Lt. Taylor, the squadron commander says to himself. Then the rain and fog rolls in on the flight. “I don’t know where we are,” one of the pilots says over the radio. “We must have got lost after that last turn.”* Lieutenant Robert F. Cox, another Navy flight instructor who was flying near the Florida coast, was the first to overhear the patrol’s radio communications. He immediately informed the Air Station of the situation and then contacted the Avengers to ask if they needed assistance. “Both my compasses are out and I’m trying to find Ft. Lauderdale, Florida,” Taylor said, his voice sounding anxious. “I’m over land, but it’s broken. I’m sure I’m in the Keys, but I don’t know how far down.”* Hopelessly lost and thinking that the islands he now has spotted are the Florida Keys, Lt. Taylor turns the flight group to a North East heading. Some of his pilots seemed to have recognized that he was making a mistake. “Dammit,” one man griped over the radio. “If we would just fly west, we would get home.”* Eventually, the flight group turns to head West, but then later, turns East with Lt. Taylor thinking that they were now flying over the Gulf of Mexico. “We didn’t go far enough east,” he said, still worried that he might be in the Gulf. “We may as well just turn around and go east again.”* This flying lost, not knowing that they are actually heading further East away from Florida, as it is getting late in the day, continues until it becomes apparent that all five aircraft are now low on fuel. From the last radio transmission sent, the following was heard, “All planes close up tight,” he said. “We’ll have to ditch unless landfall…when the first plane drops below ten gallons, we all go down together.” A few minutes later, the Avengers’ last radio communications were replaced by an eerie buzz of static.* *History.com, Article on the disappearance of Training Flight 19. Author’s note, The rest of this story is pure fiction based upon game play experience in Ark Survival Evolved. For the purpose of this story, the names of the characters have been altered to avoid a direct connection with the surviving relatives of the crew members of Flight 19. The weather front becomes strangely glowing as the five aircraft, now almost out of fuel, have flown into a tight formation as they descend to ditch the planes in the sea. Radio communication between the aircraft is no longer possible due to something that is jamming the reception. The sea itself has become a lighted landing field in spite of the very rough conditions 50 mph+ winds from the weather front has caused to its surface. The glow gets brighter as the five aircraft descend towards the choppy surface. A strange noise sounding like a high pitch whine fills the cockpit of each plane as the electrical systems all fail resulting in the engines quitting. Then, suddenly, a bright ball of light engulfs all five aircraft rendering Lt. Tylor and the other pilots and crew members unconscious.
  4. Hello, brigands, ruffians, knights, heroes and all combatants in between, and welcome to the first episode of Bull's Beastiary. As you all may be aware, there are numerous prehistoric beasties roaming the Island, Sorched Earth, Aberration and beyond as well as various modern animals and even creatures of a more fantastical nature. The idea behind this is to help newer players figure out the basic behavior of some of the beasts of the Island and beyond. And what better to start off this series than one of the most famous dinosaurs both in ARK and in almost any medium concerning dinosaurs, the Tyrannosaurus Rex! (note, this is all from a PVE perspective) Threat Level: (1 is the lowest, 10 is the highest) Early Game (Thatch/Wood/Primitive Tier): 7 on most occasions, 8 if near ones' base. Mid-Game (Stone and Basic Metal Equipment): 4 Mostly, between 5-7 if a high level, or if it has access to more precious and weaker tames. Late-Game (Metal Buildings, electrical and beyond): 3 usually, 4-5 if the level is extremely high Behavior: Highly aggressive towards anything that's not a predator, and in certain cases, still kills them. Strengths: High attack damage, high health. Weaknesses: Mostly low speed, only negated when a player is riding it and sprinting or if an alpha. Huge size. Taming Tips: The primary thing you need to worry about, especially if you have plenty of speed and stamina, and other than the obvious preparations such as taming food (the rex's favorite kibble is made from Pulmonoscorpius AKA the Giant Scorpion's eggs, by the by) is making sure that there aren't any predators who might disturb your taming. It usually isn't difficult leading the Rex to a solitary spot where you can safely tame it. Other than that, I'd also advise preparations for a lengthy trip, as Rexes can take a while both to knock out and actually tame at higher levels. Once tamed (AKA Usage): One of the best war mounts, these things are prime hunters and are some of the best creatures you can tame and breed if you plan on taking on the endgame bosses. Personal Experience: The main thing you have to fear from a Rex, as far as I've seen, is if you have nowhere to run. As long as there is room to run (and no other predators) you can usually get away from it, especially if you have increased movement speed. Though they have lost some of their teeth (pun intended, reference to the TLC update) due to the appearance of ever-increasingly dangerous creatures on the various ARKs, they still shouldn't be underestimated. These bad boys are the backbones alot of players rely on for the endgame raids, and even wild ones of a high level can prove almost as dangerous as tamed and trained members of their species. Taming requires a decent chunk of concentration and resources at high levels. The best way to deal with a rex you can't kill is to outrun it or make it go somewhere it will be trapped. Just be careful not to get yourself cornered, or else you'll be trying to get your stuff back while a 25-foot lizard-like monstrosity capable of biting you in half with one good chomp chases you. Thanks for reading!
  5. EmberDirewolf

    fanfiction Body lanuage

    we all been around animals before right well they have feelings to they have confidence gestures for the leader the shy the loner the playful and when they get bored what do your pets do the be mischves to get your attcetion if I could wish for one thing most is Body lanuage for dinos
  6. We need more work on old original dinos any thoughts on which ones?
  7. I recently tamed a Basilosaurus ( solo Game), After equipping saddle and riding within say 1 min or less stamina was in exhaustion and couldnt move as soon as get off it goes back to full stamina, am i doing something wrong or bug ? I deeply apologise this is in wrong section should be bugs and fixes Sorry (have made one there).
  8. Kaprodonychus

    fanfiction Ark: Lost Continent

    Hey guys. It's been a long time since I've been here. Some of y'all might know for me the Ark rising obelisks story and dossiers. A lot of has happened since then on my discord and now I'm here to share. I'm currently creating a mod called Ark: Lost Continent and we're writing an entire story for it. It's basically gonna be a much better version of Ark: Rising obelisks. In here we'll share story chapters, lore info and a bit of art. But mainly this is for the story, if you're interested in looking at our mod progress itself, you can join our discord to look at the info. Essentially it's a massive fan made dlc with tons of new creatures and items. The mod isn't out yet so we can't give you a direct link to the mod just yet haha! I have the prologue for the story and nothing else right now. But I will have more later. It will take a while tho so don't expect a lot. Thank you for your attention and support!
  9. 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.]
  10. Chudz66

    fanfiction My Journey

    [Just had an urge to write. I have an idea where I want to go with it, too, so we'll see where I end up.] Day 1: The Arrival The last strain of the Doors, “Break On Through,” fades into the background of my mind, leaving me somewhere between dreamland and wakefulness. It’s that place where if you were having a good dream you chase after it ever grasping. And if you were having a bad dream, you swim toward the surface with all your might. The problem is, I can’t remember what I was dreaming about, but I know that song has something to do with it. While I’m pondering that, I can feel myself slowly awakening. And before I open my eyes, my other senses are already cluing me in on my surroundings. For some reason, I’m standing, and the ground I’m standing on has a give to it, leaving my feet partially buried. It holds a pleasant warmth, too, like the warmth I feel radiating down upon me from what can only be the sun. A lazy breeze drifts by, saying a cool, “hello,” before slipping off on the rest of its journey. In the distance, I can hear birds calling to each other, and the murmur of the surf is at my back. There’s no briny smell, though, so maybe I’m by a. . . . My eyes open, and I’m on a sunlit beach. A quick look around doesn’t reveal anyone else, so make that a deserted beach. Turning, I gaze out over a gleaming expanse of water, one hand shading my eyes from the sun. It turns out that I’m looking at the perfect moment, too, as a crimson porpoise breaches the surface in a graceful leap before returning to the ocean with hardly a splash. “That was cool,” I say to no one in particular, before realizing I just saw a crimson porpoise. Wait, do porpoises really come in that color? I would probably know these things if I didn’t cancel our cable TV to save money. The wife’s still kind of miffed about that, but-- A shadow drifts over me, breaking my train of thought. Turning my head and dropping my hand back to my side, I watch as it slides down the beach before darting out to sea. Looking up, I find that the color of porpoises doesn’t really matter much anymore. Day 1: Oh, I’m in a. . . . I’m watching a dinosaur glide on a current of air, its diaphanous wings flapping lightly once in a while to keep it on course. And as the sunlight glints off emerald skin, I’m stricken by a sense of awe that stretches back to my first museum visit as a child. With a certain glee, I watch as it rises upward in lazy spirals. And when it hits a certain point, it tucks its wings and goes into a dive. It’s an amazing sight to see, and when I’m starting to worry that it might hit the water, it pulls out of the dive and changes course. Now, it’s heading toward me. Wings beat furiously in the distance, as fear and self preservation start shouting things in my head. I’m not sure which one says it, but I think playing dead only works for bears, or does it? And whichever one said something about peanut butter probably has some Freudian thing going on. Then my mental lapse is over, and the creature is almost upon me. The next couple of seconds seem to stretch for an eternity before time snaps back to normal, and the creature barrel rolls through the air above me with a shriek. My legs decide they’ve had enough, and I begin to collapse backward, as an emerald wing tip flashes briefly into view. Buffeted by the wind from its wings, I fall into the mini-sandstorm its passage is creating and land on my butt. Craning my neck, I catch a glimpse of it disappearing into the edge of the verdant forest some thirty paces away. My heart is keeping time with imaginary hummingbird wings, and I can feel the icy flow of adrenaline charging through my system. That’s when I remember that breathing is probably a good thing, and start gasping for air. A minute later, I push myself to my feet and cast a few leery glances around, looking for the dinosaur, but it’s nowhere to be seen. After a sigh of relief, I realize I’ve got sand stuck to most of my body, no doubt helped by the fearful sweat I recently broke out in. And-- Wait a second, my arms are thicker than they’ve ever been, and what’s that embedded in one? A gem? And, “Holy [TuRtLes]!” What happened to my belly? I’m pretty sure I was a middle-aged, fat guy the last time the wife reminded me about it. And now, I’m all beefcaked out. And why am I only in my underwear? And wow, I’m guessing the wife would be happy with that. Then it dawns on me, I must have awoken from a dream into another dream. That explains me, my surroundings, flying dinosaurs that are spelled like “Peter,” without the first “e” or something like that. It would even explain crimson porpoises. Whew! Now I’m starting to feel better about this whole situation. That’s when I hear movement behind me.
  11. rpicardi1

    fanfiction Ark Land of the Lost.

    This story was partially posted two years ago, then abandoned. It has been completely rewritten and updated to reflect the world back in the 40s and 50s. I will be posting a chapter or two until it is completely uploaded. Ark, Land of the Lost This adventure will be based upon single player game play of Ark starting January 2017. XP, Gather, Taming, are scaled up 4X on this game for the story. During this story, a major update was added to the personal display of the Specimen Implant. The May update added an end game portal to the reworked Volcano. The player, with the name of Joe Six Pack, is started in East Zone One. That is, his location was on the beach near the box canyon of the Lava Cave. Joe spawned in a very good location near a cluster of boulders just North of the box canyon. As his luck would have it, the area was free of any threats. That is not always the case as previous players have ran into a Carno hiding among those boulders further North on that same beach. A lot has changed in Ark since the original adventure Trapped in the Bermuda Triangle. Well over 137 creatures are now in the game, many of them extremely dangerous predators, even some equally dangerous herbivores. Some are small, even tiny, as they gang up and start chewing away at your health. Another will run up and steal something from you. Still another will poison you, then eat you alive. The display from the Specimen Implant has a new look where information is quickly available at a glance. Transferring items are now as easy as highlighting them and using a single key to move stacks of items quickly. A new engram point system now has items available at each level up. Many items have been re balance. Players can now obtain the primitive bow and arrows at Level 10. Complete clothing sets are now available in one level up. The Bola, available at Level 9, gives one a great defense against attacking raptors. Other things have become better for the new player. Clothes and shelter will provide some protection from the ever changing weather. The raft is now available at level 16 so one can escape to a safer location. Many locations have become far more dangerous then they were in 2015. Much of the predator infested North is so cold as to be impossible to survive in without fur armor and fire. The swamps are death traps of diseased leaches, insects, and ambush predators. The redwood forest are loaded with packs of Terror Birds, Allasaurs, and now, a deadly giant bee. There is the rare threat of an Alpha Raptor or worse. Caves are more nasty with abundant double, even triple, level threats. The Volcano is now active. New are the Explorer Notes which, when collected, will double your XP while you continue crafting or doing other things to survive. Ark continues to evolve as it is added to, refined, polished, and prepared for its official release in hard copy. When Joe was spawned in on the test game play on East Zone One of The Island, he was soon able to obtain his pick, hatchet, spears, torch, camp fire, and establish a thatch shelter between several boulders before nightfall. His worst threats were two compy gangs which he was easily able to dispatch with his spear. Basic clothes were obtained as Joe carefully expanded his hunting range to take out more Dodos. With the Bola, Joe was able to kill a Parasaur and pteradon for the hide needed to make a raft. He left the cave side camp that afternoon for Herbivore Island to establish a safe camp on the point before nightfall. The next day, Joe tamed a Parasaur to aid him in obtaining narcoberries and transport. He had leveled up to obtain the refining forge, then the Smithy. He had enough metal from the rocks to craft a metal pick, then went off with the Parasaur to get metal ore from the metal bearing rocks on the ridge. That night got bitter cold, but thanks to the shelter and fire pit cooking up raw meat from the day before, Joe was able to keep from freezing to death. Now armed with better weapons, Joe went sailing to some more dangerous shores where he took down a raptor with a bola, then ran into a pair of very tough troodons. It was a good thing Joe had stimms in the hot bar as one bit him during the fight. He did take them both out and avoided being rendered unconscious, probably because he was already at Level 38 and had 20 fortitude on his side. Joe has reached Level 45 after 5 hours of 4X game play. He has a pteradon for flying recon and an anklyo that can quickly harvest rocks and other resources. A do tame Moschop came back on a rafting hunting trip that gathers fiber and other resources for him on Herbivore Island. It was found stuck in driftwood North of his original camp. I have seen Jellyfish in the deep entrances to Drayo's Cove, a Carno, Pegomax, and Patcheorhinos on the ridge. Except for all of the Stegos and Pteradons on Herbivore Island, creature population seems lower then usual. This story, starting during early WW2 in the Pacific, will have no connection to the other adventures. It is Year Sixteen, Day 11, on The Island as Helena, Joe Six Pack, Yamaharo, Rose, Ruth, and Larry, sit down together with all of their kids to give them an oral history lesson on how they first arrived in this strange new world and what is expected of them as they grow up to become adults. This is a story of that adventure, the future Adams and Eves, that will repopulate a new world emerging below them from the artificial ones, those giant self contained lifeboats they are now living on, known as Arks, that have been orbiting the now dead Earth in Space for an unknown number of years. Chapter One, Joe Six Pack. It is December 8th 1941 as Joe's young life has been totally disrupted by the attack on Pearl Harbor. Joe, the only son of a family that had moved to California during the Great Depression, had planned to go to an interview that Monday to work in the oil fields as a laborer. With the declaration of war on Japan, Joe, like many of his friends, jammed the local recruiting office to volunteer to join the military in order to protect their country from a feared invasion by Japan. Joe soon started his basic training in California in one of those hastily constructed training camps added to an existing military base. Like many first recruits at the time, he has trained with wooden rifles and broomsticks until the US industry could convert to military production of the badly needed equipment such as the M-1 rifle. Having tested high in his class for flying skills, he has volunteered for flight training and was soon enrolled in the fighter school program. With trainers and fighter aircraft in short supply, Joe could only get in flight time on a limited basis until more aircraft became available. Proving his worth, Joe is able to advance on to more flight time to learn dog fighting tactics which he soon excelled at. Typical of many of the hot shot pilots of the day, he would often hit the bars with his friends for a wild weekend of drinking and chasing barmaids. He would occasionally end up in the brig as a result of getting into fights with the other recruits, but was lucky he didn't stay in for more then the weekend, due to his budding flying skills and the chronic shortage of good fighter pilots for the upcoming conformation with Japan in the pacific where carrier battles would soon become the norm for sea combat. Maybe, that was because of his addiction to Lucky Strikes, which he chain smoked constantly on those wild weekends where he would consumed at least a six pack of Olympia at a time. Thus, he earned the nickname Joe Six Pack which would stick with him throughout his military career. In April of 1943, he is assigned to the Lexington which set sail with the carrier group to confront the Japanese expansion in the Pacific that is threatening to cut off Australia from the rest of the ally forces. May 7, 1943, Joe became involved in the Battle of the Coral Sea. Flying fighter escort, his group was soon involved in battling Japanese Zero, the most advanced fighter aircraft at its time. Joe's fighter aircraft is now the new Grumman F4F Wildcat, our most advanced fighter of its time, replacing the inferior Buffalo that Joe had trained in. The Wildcat, while slower then the Zero, had better endurance, making the two aircraft an even match in combat. This was a plane Joe had little flight time on in order to get familiar with how it would handle in combat. Such is the urgency of the times. As his air group is escorting torpedo bombers to their target coordinates, a squadron of Jap Zeros hit them from above. Twisting and turning, climbing and diving to gain an attack advantage, the two fighter groups engaged each other in deadly areal combat. Joe gets on the tail of a Jap Zero as it lined up to shoot down a Devastator forcing it to break off its attack. “Joe, there's a zero on your tail,” warns his wing man as he maneuvered to get a kill shot on one. “Get him,” Joe shouts back in his radio as the Zero he is chasing is shot up and goes slamming into the sea. Joe climbs for some altitude as he attempts to shake off the Zero on his tail. His wing man is close behind trying to line up a shot, but soon finds himself having to deal with another Zero trying to get behind him. A burst of gunfire from the chasing Zero catches his plane across the nose partially disabling the engine. Smoking badly and losing power, Joe makes a desperate move. He applies the speed brakes causing his plane to slow down abruptly. The chasing Zero suddenly finds itself in front of Joe in perfect alignment as Joe pulls the trigger and watching the much lighter built Zero disintegrate in front of him. Hit by the flying debris from the now destroyed Zero, Joe is forced to ditch his crippled plane into the sea. It is a rough landing in the choppy sea as Joe attempts to glide his burning plane to a smooth landing. Suffering from burns to his legs caused by the engine fire, he bails out of the sinking aircraft with his life raft, survival kit, and life vest. From the sea, he can see the battle continue to rage as a huge explosion erupts from a Japanese aircraft carrier that is barely visible on the horizon. There are several other explosions seen on other warship as the bombs and torpedoes find their targets. More aircraft go down in flames or crash out of control into the sea. Most are so far away that Joe is unable to tell which side is winning the battle in the air. Eventually, the battle dies down as evening approaches and the enemy escorts start searching the seas for any survivors. Not wanting to end up in a Japanese POW camp, Joe does not inflate his raft. Instead, he stays in the water using the uninflated raft as a cover in case a searching Japanese naval vessel comes looking for their air crews. He sees another airman in the water on a small raft just on the horizon. Fearing it might be one of the Japanese pilots that was shot down, he stays hidden as much as possible. As darkness falls, the sky remains glowing with the fires from the crippled warships. Unknown to Joe, the remaining Japanese battle fleet has moved on abandoning a carrier and several escorts to their fate, their admiral not wanting to risk the remaining fleet to an attack at night by the American Navy. Darkness soon overtakes the horizon as the burning ships slip under the sea putting out the fires on board. Under the cover of darkness, Joe inflates his raft so he can get out of the water. The salt water is causing him a great deal of pain as a result of the burns he has suffered to his legs. He has seen sharks in the area and does not want to become shark bait. Lightning is lighting up the sky as a tropical storm starts moving in. Joe scans the horizon for the other raft as the sea starts getting rougher. He spots it, still far away, but not heading towards him as the wind picks up and the rain starts coming down in buckets. It soon gets too dark and foggy to see anything as the horizon itself has vanished into total blackness. "Great, fresh water," as Joe catches the pouring rain in a poncho drinking his fill and trying to find some means of storing the extra from seawater contamination. The rain, although cold, feels good as he gets rid of the salt in his flight suit and his body re hydrates from it's long stay in the salt water. Soon, it is getting extremely rough as the wind picks up with the sea crashing all around him. Suddenly, there is a blinding flash of lightning that strikes the water around him. The electrical shock knocks Joe unconscious.
  12. GenTech1000

    fanfiction Marcus Note #8

    I cannot believe that they fell for it! Those URE imbeciles are more gullible than I thought! I persuaded our “leaders” to give me permission to go down into the depths to study the “ environment” and learn as much as I can. However, the “environment” I was looking for was far deeper than the team wanted to go, so I had to bribe them to come with me. Once down there, I gathered samples of various plant life and other things to not arouse any suspicion, and we slowly went deeper and deeper towards the creatures’ lair. They attacked us on sight. The colossal forms emerged from the earth, bits of rock and debris falling throw the gaps in their spines. It was a massacre... A BEAUTIFUL MASSACRE!! Luckily, I was able to get samples of the dirt where it tunneled from, the poisonous spines they shoot from their tails, and a piece of its exoskeleton. We escaped, however, afterwards only eighteen out of twenty-five remain. We returned to base immediately, and as soon as word reached the ears of our “leaders” about how I “ran from the fight” and “ cowardly abandoned my team”, I was called to speak with them. They chastised me for about an hour until they finally allowed me to speak. I told them that ...”it was out of nowhere. All of a sudden the creatures came from the earth and tore through my men. Knowing the importance of the knowledge in front of me, I ran and gathered samples from the creatures to gain as much knowledge about them to aid us in the future...” and after about thirty minutes of my persuasion, they soaked it up like a sponge and agreed with my view. I feel bad for the ones that died during this trip, nevertheless, they are merely pawns in my grand plan. And soon, I will have Santiago’s head crunching in the jaws of my pet, and I can reclaim my creation and lead these people from this Ark! But first, I need to get more data.
  13. GenTech1000

    fanfiction Marcus Note #7

    Damn that Mei-Yin, ruining my perfectly constructed plan. I almost had my retribution! I’ll have to add her to the list of people that I need to kill. However, she may have actually given me hope in the matter. After rescuing Diana and some other man, something beautiful occurred, the miracle of life. Turns out that those monsters from reproduce by impregnating a host via a proboscis-like organ at the end of the female’s tail. The female then injects an egg into the hosts body and flees the scene. The baby then develops like parasitic wasps in a caterpillar. However, the birth is the best part. The baby then bursts out on the hosts chest and then attacks everything and all things due to a lack of a sense of smell and sight. However, if it cannot see or smell, how does it recognize its mother? I tracked down one of the female creatures and killed it for dissection. However, its body disintegrated in an acidic cloud of its blood. But to my surprise, I seemed to have receive a some sort of pheromone gland from it. It seemed edible, but when I consumed it, I gained a horrid odor that lasted for what seems like hours. Blegh, So that’s how hell’s armpit smells. Luckily, we have power washers to remove such odors. But that must be how they know who their mother is, by sensing the pheromones. This is how we can tame them. This is how I can kill Santiago! I could either: A- Get him impregnated and let the baby do its work. or B- Impregnate myself and raise the baby as a weapon of revenge. I’m leaning towards the latter due to the fame it comes with. I can already see it, ”Marcus Torgana, Tamer of Monsters”. I like the sound of that. Well, off to get more glands, it’s showtime!
  14. GenTech1000

    fanfiction Marcus Note #6

    Mei-Yin seems to be adapting to our society quite well, minus a few differences, and seems to be liking it here. However, she still refuses to sleep in one of our Hyper Chambers. I was finally able to examine her creature and figured out how to make a saddle that can connect to its cloaking organs to conceal the rider. I have also made drafts for a Tek saddle for it. On another note, the preparations are made. The plan is, since we need hypercharged element, to created a false signal to fool Santiago into sending a team into the deepest darkest parts of these caves. They then get killed by the monsters from below, he is investigated into and “discovered” to be the cause of the incident based on evidence I planted, and I can have my revenge at last. He will rue the day he ever chose to mess with me! If you like what you see, give it a like, and stay tuned for the bestnext note which will be released most likely this Friday or during next weekend. Feel free to give feedback on the story!
  15. GenTech1000

    fanfiction Marcus Note #5

    This Mei-Yin is quite the interesting person. Not only has she been surviving on her own, but she comes from Ancient China AND can control the feathered beasts from below. After finding a burnt out piece of armor on the surface a search party was sent out into the caverns to find our guest. At first, she fled from us, however we were able to calm her with Diana removing her helmet. From there we took her to base. Maybe she’s smarter than most of those URE idiots leading us. She is a very stoic woman, and a stubborn one too. Instead of asking for help when using our tools, she sits there, staring, trying to figure it out. That Diana seems to have noticed. From now on I will not call the “ Gateway Project” by its name, rather, I will call it “Exodus”. Speaking of stolen things, I found a way to get back at Santiago and reclaim MY creation. However, it will take time. For now, I must prepare.
  16. Warning: I am a nerd and this is all of my own interpretation/creativity. None of this has any basis in real biology or how actual scientists think these animals work, lol. I have no idea what people think real dilophosaurs acted like, I just figured this was a fun little take on them all. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- EDIT: I've decided to make this just my collection of little short stories so I do not spam the forums when I get inspired. Sands of Time is just the first one here, but others will follow and I'll link them here as they get posted. EDIT 2: I have no idea how to link to specific posts. But, hit ctrl + f, and enter these phrases and you should get taken to the posts (you can copy and paste them into the box as well): ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Page 1 When You Least Expect It ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sands of Time Dilophosaurs are not much of a threat, all things considered, in all the time I have spent on the Ark. These small theropods may terrorize new arrivals to the Ark for a short while, but typically their slowness and desire to chase smaller prey make them easy to evade. For the most part, that is where they remain; sometimes, new survivors will tame these animals for early protection, and then usually forget about them. Some will even release their pets back to the wild rather than keep them for no reason. I have watched someone in a tribe once struggle to say goodbye after her tribe had forced her to get rid of her clan of dilophosaurs since they were taking up space and eating food that the tribe simply felt was unnecessary to expend on dinosaurs they no longer used. But despite their lack of use beyond a survivor's early days on the Ark, I discovered just how truly intriguing the dilophosaur is. Like many other early survivors, among my first friends was a dilophosaur named Happy. Happy looked grizzled and well-seasoned, with scars littering his muzzle and tail, but his personality would have suggested otherwise. After incidentally knocking him out, I felt guilty for the thing and having just met a sarcosuchus for the first time, I was unwilling to leave it unconscious in the sand, at such an unfair disadvantage if another fearsome predator were to come along. I nervously provided some raw meat to it, and once he regained consciousness, he no longer bared his fangs and tried to knock me down. He cocked his head at me, and chirruped. A slab of uneaten meat hung from his jaws and he dropped it in the sand at my feet. He licked it with a slender tongue and then sat on his haunches, seemingly waiting to see what I would do. I was terrified, at the time. I had been on the ARK for a grand total of four days. Wary, I observed my beach surroundings and discovered that I was on a peninsula away from the main island. I found the shallow part of the brackish channel that separated me from the island and swam as quickly as I could to the other side. To my surprise, Happy followed, snatching up the meat he had dropped and chasing me through the water. More relaxed now, I calmed down and enjoyed his company. That was also when I named him Happy, since he kept eagerly following me and dropping that piece of meat at my feet. I'm not sure how he expected me to eat it, especially since at that point it was coated in a good layer of sand, but he sure seemed to determined to get me to try. I eventually constructed a mediocre base. I never considered much more to the dilophosaur other than what I first observed: it seemed to be a familial animal for most of the groups I saw roaming the beach were hunting together. Loners tended to mainly be male. They spat venom at their prey to stun and slow them, and then used the distraction to close in and make their kill. But after establishing myself, I found that I actually had a fair amount of downtime. I was living very comfortably, compared to my first days on the ARK. I took to observing the dilophosaur then, since they piqued my curiosity and seemed more social than I had first realized. After Happy, I befriended a female I named Strawberry due to her red body and creamy white marbling. A little later, I found two females wandering together who looked so similar I believed them to be sisters. I named the two of them Carrie and Hallie. Introducing the animals was much more of a pain than I had thought it would be. Happy was not bothered by the introduction of more females into his fold. He would investigate them and after a visual examination, he would open his frill and trill at them, to which the females would perform a similar reaction, and that would be the end of it. But it was the interaction between the females that shocked me. Strawberry had been my only female at first, but when I returned with Hallie and Carrie, a bloody fight erupted almost immediately. Upon sighting the new females, Strawberry's frill flared wide and began to vibrate. Coupled with her shrieking roar, it was a frightening reaction indeed. Carrie and Hallie both repeated the gesture in return, but they were clearly much younger than Strawberry; smaller than her and with much less experience, Strawberry lunged at Hallie and within seconds had the smaller female pinned beneath her. Carrie leapt to her sister's defense, but was similarly put to the ground. Hallie did not get up, instead she relaxed her frill about halfway and gave a low, rumbling sound that could only be described as a catlike purr. Carrie soon purred as well, and Strawberry visibly relaxed. She backed away from the two females and her frill rested coolly against her neck again. She gave a series of short, low trills and stalked away. This interaction made me far more curious about the behavior of these animals than anything else. I soon had a large pen with part of a river included inside of it, and let the dilophosaurs roam freely in its confines. It became apparent to me that dilophosaur groups operated with a single matriarch, and Strawberry had automatically taken that role when she had been left alone with Happy. Carrie and Hallie, upon joining the group, had immediately been cast the rank of subordinate, and it seemed there were times when the sisters grew resentful of that title. Happy never interfered in the squabbles; instead, he would merely watch from afar, only reacting if the fighting came into contact with him. To see if there was a similar social structure among males, I tamed another male dilophosaur to bring back to the group. An elderly male with inky black scales and white marbling and a silver muzzle, as if the color had begun to drain from his scales there. His eyes were deep crimson. I named him Skull, primarily because of the ridges on the top of his head being silvery-white in color. When I brought him home to the group, the females all but ignored him. Happy took notice of him immediately, but unlike the females, a fight did not break out the second the two locked eyes. Instead, the two males stared at each other and locked eyes from afar. I suppose one could say it was a glorified staring contest. It seemed to be random when Skull finally began to slowly open his frill and vibrate it, never breaking eye contact with Happy. Happy reciprocated the display, and slowly began to open his mouth and hiss. Skull abruptly closed his frill, and broke eye contact, dropping to the ground and curling into a ball on his back. He chirped and trilled at Happy, and swept his tail across the sandy ground again and again. Happy snorted and began to close his frill. With that, the interaction was over. Both males calmed down and proceeded to act normally for the next few hours. They even ate out of the trough at the same time and seemed wholly untroubled by the presence of the other, whereas Strawberry could not eat out of the trough at the same time as Hallie and/or Carrie (but the two sisters could eat at the same time as one another without issue). In my time observing this, I noticed that Strawberry had begun to dug in the wet sand closer to the riverbed. Between her massive boned head and her powerful back legs, she created a sizable depression in the ground large enough to hold her, and then some. Curiosity struck me and I decided to investigate the strange bed she had created. Within the next few days, I soon discovered it was not merely a bed. Three days after she dug the shallow bed, I realized it was a nest, for a single red and black egg was settled in the ground. Of course, when she noticed me sneaking up onto the nest, she rushed at me and flared open her frill, giving me a resounding roar. I heeded her warning fully and darted away. I decided to observe her from afar instead of close as I had been in the past. I created a platform that rested over the pen, but not close enough to annoy them. From there, I could watch without disturbing them. Strawberry treated any other visitors to her nest with similar ferocity, but instead of merely backing away, Carrie and Hallie's aggression soared alongside Strawberry's. I briefly wondered if the overzealous aggression was due to something wrong with my design of their pen... I figured I had made it quite large for only four dilophosaurs. As with all other interactions, the males, Happy and Skull, only watched the females from a distance and with indifferent stares. While observing from my platform, I noticed while Strawberry made the venture toward the feeding trough, Carrie suddenly darted for the nest. She snatched the red and black egg into her jaws and snarled, but did not crush it. Strawberry rushed her immediately, and that was the only event that seemed to pique Happy's interest. He bolted from his corner of the pen and while Carrie was distracted with Strawberry, brought his jaws down around her throat. Carrie gave a sound that can only be described as a yelp, dropping the egg in her possession, which Strawberry caught with expert precision. Once Strawberry had possession of the egg again, the violence quickly subsided. Happy let go of Carrie and gave her a sound earful for her thievery, and then stalked over to the feeding trough. Strawberry gently placed the egg back into her nest and then curled up around it. Carrie, shaken and bleeding, curled up next to her sister to rest. Hallie nibbled and picked at her sister's back, which I presume is a bonding activity dilophosaurs practice. But out of the aftermath of this event, I was mostly impressed when Happy retrieved a good chunk of meat from the feeding trough and brought it to Strawberry in the nest. She gratefully gulped it down, and gave a happy, high-pitched purring noise to Happy, who rested in the dirt near the nest. From all of this, I concluded that a matriarch clearly existed (Strawberry) and her young were cared for by its father (whom I presumed to be Happy at this point in time). To succeed the matriarch, subordinate females might try to overpower her, from flatly battling her to killing her young. But the latter did not make sense to me. What good would killing Strawberry's young do for Carrie, or Hallie? It was unlikely they would be able to best Strawberry in combat, and so they would still be where they were before, and without a new member of the group. I soon discovered my answer. Carrie soon began to dig a nest like Strawberry. By the time she laid an egg, Strawberry's egg had produced a hatchling, and she and Happy were zealously protecting it and bringing it food to eat. (Side note - the hatchlings for dilophosaurs are absolutely adorable. Strawberry and Happy's hatchling was red with black marbling and light pink feathers protruding from its back, and gave the most adorable little chirps and baby roars.) But when she wasn't paying full attention to her hatchling, Strawberry was harassing Carrie. At first, it seemed petty; she pushed all the dirt Carrie had dug out for the shallow nest back in, effectively ruining the nest. But it soon devolved into something more sinister. When Carrie approached the feeding trough one day, Strawberry's frill spread and she chased Carrie away, to a corner of the pen. There she viciously attacked Carrie's shoulders, causing them to bleed. As if someone had flipped a switch, after she made her bleed, Strawberry lost interest and trotted back over to her hatchling. Carrie began to search for ways to escape the pen after that. Feeling guilty, I decided to make the pen much, much larger. I didn't get to see the exact interactions while I was busy building, but based on what I heard, things between Strawberry and Carrie were still strenuous at best. Once I finished expanding the pen, Carrie immediately took the opportunity to seek a place on the beach as far away from Strawberry as she could. She dug a new shallow there, but found it difficult to retrieve food from the feeding trough still. Hallie seemed to try and help her, as did Skull (who I assumed was going to be the father of Carrie's egg(s)), by bringing her meat from the trough. But they too found themselves on the receiving end of Strawberry's ill temper, and later, Happy's. Happy primarily focused on Skull, but he did not attack him with the vicious cruelty in which Strawberry pursued her female subordinates. Strawberry seemed to stress Carrie so badly that she laid an egg... and then proceeded to eat it. After ingesting the egg, Carrie nervously made her way closer to Strawberry and rolled on her back similar to how Skull had when he met Happy. Strawberry bumped her muzzle to Carrie's, and then gave a snort before turning her attention back to her hatchling. She no longer chased Carrie away, and Happy also stopped harassing Skull. From these interactions, I gathered that the matriarch had sole breeding rights in a group of dilophosaurs. Due to the apparent dysfunction of my group, I theorized that groups were mainly of familial relation. Subordinates were primarily the sons and daughters of the matriarch and her chosen mate (in this case, Strawberry and Happy). Carrie and Hallie disputed with Strawberry so much since they were unrelated, and furthermore, were unrelated to Skull. I further theorized that groups lived far apart from one another to prevent clashes happening so commonly. With this new information, I decided to separate my two "groups." Strawberry, Happy, and their hatchling would remain together while Skull, Carrie, and Hallie would be relocated to a new pen. Lo and behold, upon this move, the violence decreased dramatically to almost never. It seemed much less stressful on the animals and Carrie successfully reared eggs. So did her sister. No fighting broke out between the two and I further theorized that perhaps as long as the females are all related, they can produce eggs without issue... until the group got too big, anyway. I would later figure out that males, once they reached a particular maturity, would disperse from their groups and that females rarely lived longer than six years in the wild. Of course, my captive females lived longer, and the issue of crowding became... apparent. As a conclusion, I will simply say that even the simplest of animals on the Island can be fascinating. I have befriended, raised, and watched many other creatures since my arrival on the ARK, and have been fascinated and floored by each and every one, but I still hold a soft spot in my heart for the dilophosaur.
  17. GenTech1000

    fanfiction Marcus Note #4

    The “Gateway Project”, just saying the name brings a fowl taste to my mouth. However, we have come along greatly with Santiago’s, A.K.A. my work. The shear size of it is a sight to behold. The first ring has been constructed and the others are on the way. There is one problem, the energy required for the entire thing to function is immense and we currently do not have a clue of where to get it. However, the obelisks are connected straight to the Ark’s power source. That seems to be the best course of action. I am sending out a research team tomorrow to the surface to take a look at the obelisks. Hopefully, all will go well. I wish them the best of luck. If you like what you see, give it a like and stay tuned for more of the story of Marcus Torgana.
  18. GenTech1000

    fanfiction Marcus Note #3

    That traitorous Santiago! To think I was his friend! I should bust into his dwelling, and strangle him with my own hands. How dare he steal MY idea and say it is his own? And those URE buffoons in their shiny armor gawking and gaping at him spreading LIES! They wouldn’t believe me if I said it was my idea, the snake made it impossible for me to do so. Oh, I miss you, copyright. No matter, I can get back at him later. But for now I need to focus on the “Gateway Project” as they call it. I still think the name “Exodus Program” is still better. If you like what you see, give it a thumbs up. Stay tuned for more of the story of Marcus Torgana.
  19. GenTech1000

    fanfiction Marcus Note #2

    I must admit, we’ve done better than I thought we would. We established a new home base and even have some Hyper Chambers. However, what’s more incredible is the ecosystem down in these caverns. Creatures beyond my wildest dreams exist here, as well as creatures from my worst nightmares. On another note, I am disappointed that we cannot fly down here. Something with the air is preventing our jetpacks from running. Alas, we may not be able to fly...but we can glide. Using pictures from the old avian of the surface, my team and I were able to develop a glider suit with the strange gemstones that are deeper in the caverns. And hopefully, as the technology advances, we can create a form of flying transportation. On a side note, it truly perplexes me how these creatures came to be. Many of these creatures don’t resemble a single animal from Earth, yet they are here. I wonder what caused their creation... What do you guys think? Should I continue the the story of Marcus Torgana, or not?
  20. GenTech1000

    fanfiction Marcus Note #1

    Marcus Torgana, who comes from the same time as Diana, is a scientist of the Terran Federation. He is now head of the remaining survivor’s research division. I thought I had seen everything, from dinosaurs to invisible barriers, but I could never had imagined this. The barrier falling caused solar radiation to leak into the space station that is our island, turning the surface into a mass of fire and destruction. On the positive side, I and the rest of the survivors made it into a cave system, protecting us from the hell above. It is a sight to behold, the stars shining from the tan planet that I am guessing is Earth. However, I am starting to question if our URE leaders are competent enough to lead us.
  21. Edit: I cannot reproduce the below. It worked for me when i posted this, but have tried it since and no dice. I am ashamed for posting this and will be meditating on my lot in life so i can be better. So I recently got into building those armored crop plots and it got me thinking... If the hatch on top of the ceiling with the pillar thing does not prevent rain from getting to the plot, would the same hold true if I put a metal ceiling on the top of a pillar and greenhouse ceiling on the lower snap point. It works. The greenhouse glass provides the greenhouse bonus to the plants below even though the greenhouse ceiling is covered by a metal ceiling. Here's the setup: F = Foundation P = Pillar C = Ceiling First floor FFFFFF FFFFFF FFFFFF FFFFFF Put your crop plots on every F except the F's on the corners. First Floor = 1 high walls all around. Second Floor = 1 high walls all around Third Floor P/C C C C P/C C C C C C C C C C C C C P/C C C C P/C In the Corners, you're going to want to pillar up, and place two ceilings, one at each of the two snap points. Once all 4 pillars are placed, you can snap greenhouse glass throughout the whole thing onto the lower of the two ceiling tiles. Once the glass is in, cover over it with metal ceilings on the higher snap point. To hit 300%, you may need to throw in a double wall or two using greenhouse as you need 20 or 21 total pieces. From the outside it just looks like a metal box, but on the inside it's a fully functional greenhouse! Never get your glass shot out again!
  22. suicidalnoodle

    fanfiction Screenshot Progression Thread

    EDIT: I've decided to go ahead and start this little... project. I'm playing singleplayer on the center map with a few mods(if you're curious which ones I have, let me know and I'll list them here) and what not. I spawned on either the "south 1" or "south 2" side of the island. Here's the album, which will be updated FREQUENTLY, as will this thread. https://imgur.com/a/ImOzy And another thing, when Aberration is released, I may start a YouTube series in a similar fashion and just like this one, each video will be one full in-game day/night. For the longest time, I've always wanted to play a survival game and take screenshots of my progress. Kind of like a visual journal in a roleplay type scenario. I want to start from scratch and take PLENTY of screenshots throughout my adventure with captions detailing what was currently occuring within the screenshot. I'll post an example with one of my current screenshots at the bottom of this post. Anyway, seeing as there will be a ton of screenshots, I'm thinking of creating an album on imgur to keep things organized. This is obviously just for fun and all I wanna know is if anyone would be interested in it. I've decided to post the story and screenshots here, however there is a link to the IMGUR album at the beginning of this post if you would rather open a new tab and continue your venture through the forums. In order to keep this series organized, each episode will contain ONE day and ONE night, with a new day(episode) beginning at 6AM. This is all IN-GAME TIME, not real time. DAY/NIGHT ONE
  23. spiritpaw

    fanfiction ARK: Immortals

    Hello everyone! I feel like an absolute nerd doing this, but I can't help it. I love creating and reading, which leads to writing. 😄 It is not so much as I create the story. It is more like the story just unfolds in my mind and I want to write it down and share it with everyone here. Please let me know if you enjoy it as I don't want to waste anybody's time with trashy writing. Enjoy!
  24. CompleteTrueWizardry

    fanfiction ARK: Survivor Autobiography, Chapter 3

    It has been three weeks since my encounter with the large snake. The Parasaur has gotten better, but is still incapacitated. I had to use some of those potent black berries to keep it unconscious, for when it awoke, it cried out in pain. I did not want the beast to suffer, nor did I want to attract even more deadly foes than that of the snake. I established a suitable living area for me, and somewhat of a cover for the Parasaur, it wasn't much, but it kept us alive. I pilled large pieces of bark, and thatch on a semi-sturdy frame of branches, and bound them together with plant fibers. It stood well, and could take quite a blow, but still proved treacherous if a storm, or large beast came into contact with it. Speaking of large beasts, last week I was dragging the serpent's body onto a table, so as to study it, when I heard a thundering sound outside, I had compiled some primitive weaponry (spears, bows, hatchets, etc.) and I grabbed a spear, and investigated. I came across a gathering of 3, elephant sized beasts with large hood-like headdresses, that resembling a Triceratops. It did not surprise me as much as one would have thought, for I had already encountered the snake and Parasaur. When I had returned, I continued examining the snake's body, I wondered how a serpent of such size was even able to live. I used a hatchet to extract the skin, i figured it could be used for something useful in the future, and extracted some meat as well, That night, I had a delightful feast of snake steak. I was able to extract some venom from the creature, and store it in a stone basin. The venom was strong, and I figured it could prove useful for a defensive poison against my enemies. I sat on a makeshift bed, writing down some of my findings, both with the snake, and the Parasaur, when suddenly, I heard a moaning. I knew it must be from the Parasaur, but it did not sound like the usual moans of pain. I grabbed a sack of berries anyways, and ran to it's aid. When I approached, the creature was rising slowly to his feet. I ducked away, as to not frighten him. He managed to get up, and looked around, but not frantically, he looked on as if he was in a familiar place, maybe he was aware of what had conspired during his ailments. I came out from my hiding place, and slowly crept towards him. He noticed me, and he became nervous. Me, sensing his discomfort, lifted my hand with a pile of the juiciest purple berries. I pressed forward slowly, as to not frighten him to run. He sniffed my hand for a good while, raising his eyes to see if I was preparing to harm him, and after a few minutes, he ate the berries. At that time, he had given in to me, he no longer feared me, and had accepted me as a friend, I approached him, and rubbed his head, he pressed into my hand. His head was hard, the sail-like protrusion was made of some sort of bone, or cartilage, but it was not unpleasant. That night, we both sat near the campfire, and eat good meals. A few days of meandering about had past, and I grew restless. I was not content with my current situation, my next agenda was to explore. I grabbed some crude paper, and began marking my area, I began creating a map. The next step, was to convince my new friend to let me use him as a beast of burden, but that proved to be a difficult task. I attempted to mount him, and he bolted forward in disgust, I knew I could not just ride him bare-back. I began constructing what resembled a saddle that would fit the beast's body. There was may a try, and many a fail. Some were to loose, and some were too tight. One trial proved promising, but was missing some straps, so I used the thick snake hide to rap the seat around the Parasaur, and in a few hours, I had a working saddle. I hoisted myself up, and sat down. My friend had made little attempt against it, which surprised me, so I figured he had accepted his fate. I grabbed the reins, and I pushed on. Directing the beast was no simple task, it was quite some time before he ever listened to my commands. I called it quits for the night, and slept till morning, I woke early, and began the process again. It was evening before I had gotten to the point of satisfaction with my driving skills, which made me anxious. I was ready to leave a day ago, and now I had to wait one more night before making leave on my adventure. I knelt down on my pallet,and started my rest, when I was stirred by a blinding light. The light shined on me like a spotlight, and my hope for man was quickly refreshed! They were here, they found me, I was free! When my eyes adjusted to the light, my heart sank for it wasn't a spotlight made by a manned search mission, but a large beam of light, descending from the sky. The beam glowed a green hue, and seemed to come from nowhere, there was no source from the ground, nor the sky, at least as far as I could see. I could see,however, a ball of light on the beam that descended slowly towards the bottom of the beam. I was curious of what the object was, so I grabbed some gear, and hopped on my Parasaur friend. We rode down the ways to the base of them beam, and by then the object was in eyesight. It was a pyramid-like box with, what seemed to be, hatches on the side. As it came closer, there were clearly floating shards rotating around the crate. I had never seen anything of the sort, it was so foreign, almost... alien. The crate came down, and it's sharp bottom dug into the ground. I moved close to inspect it> I had been right about there being hatches on the side, little doors with handles on them, it was almost as if it was sent down, like a supply drop. I moved closer, and opened a hatch, inside were an assortment of things. There was a water pouch made from hide, a couple pieces of paper, and a sack of orange powder. There were also three multi-colored lights, red, blue, and green. I grabbed the prizes from the case, and set them aside, but when I returned to investigate the lights, the crate had vanished.
  25. CompleteTrueWizardry

    fanfiction ARK: Survivor Autobiography, Chapter 2

    This is the second installment of the Survivor's Autobiography, If you want to see the first, check out my profile, if you want to keep up with the story, follow my profile. (DISCLAIMER: This story is going to introduce conflicts to the actual game. My character writes his own dossier entries, and the other survivors mention in-game do not exist in this world. Ex: Helena, Rockwell, Etc.) It has been 3 days so far, and the simple campfire has yet to be lit. I am alive still, but I have made no effort to relocate. I am a stranger to this land, so I would not want to get lost in the wilderness. My mind has recovered from the tragedy of realizing how lost I truly am, in body,and in mind, and I start to think of how I can ensure my survival, when a deafening blast comes from just up the hill to my left. My blood curdles, it is the first sound I have heard, other than the crashing of the waves, in the last 3 days. I huddle down as small as I can make myself, assuming a bear of sorts will come out from the bend. The sound goes again, but this time, louder and closer. I sense my danger, and grab a rock to defend myself. I knew it would do little against such a beast to make the sound, but I could not just stand there and let myself be devoured. The roar comes again, and it is right around the corner. I know my only chance is surprise, so I lunge out towards the beast, but I never make it, for I lay my eyes upon a strange creature I have only seen on television. The creature was not menacing to the eye, but to it, I was. The creature makes a screech, and bolts off into the opposite direction. Out of curiousity, I follow the beast, trying hard to keep up with it's great speed. It proves too much for me, and the creature gets away. "Strange, that almost seemed... no no, that's ridiculous, dinosaurs have long been extinct..." I say aloud to myself. My voice is hoarse, and startles me, for I even forgot what that sounded like as well. I lessen my pace, and venture off towards the direction the tracks led, I was so distracted, I forgot my initial fears of getting lost. It seemed like I had been walking for hours, my legs ached, and I began to grow hungry... A deep hunger, one I've never felt before, I guess this was true starvation. I rummaged around some bushes, and gathered some berries of various colors. there were blue ones, red ones, yellows, and whites, and some juicy black ones with a strong smell. I didn't even to stop to think whether they were safe to eat or not, and shoved all of the colorful berries into my mouth. Eating pleased my brain, but I was still famished. I looked at the other 2 berries. I hadn't eaten these, for they just didn't seem like the others, they seemed to hold specific properties other than simple sustenance.I tried a white berry, and my mouth went dry. The taste was bitter, so I bent down and took a sip from a nearby stream, the water was smooth, and went down like silk, I immediately felt refreshed. I did, however, feel a sense of strength after eating the berry,and suddenly awake as well. They must have been filled with proteins. Still hungry, I looked to the black berries, their smell was intense. I felt drowsy just holding them, I went for the plunge, and gulped them down. My legs went numb, and my vision blurred, I collapsed to the green, and sleep overtook me, I was out like a light. I awoke with a terrible sound, a deep screech. The sound was similar to the beast I met earlier.I ran to investigate the sound, and found the creature pinned in a cove by a Gigantic snake, the snake had gotten snagged on a stray branch, but was still lunging ferociously at the creature. My instinct kicked in, and I leaped in to help. I grabbed the largest branch I could find, and swung at the snake. His reflexes were greater than mine, and he swept around to meat me. As I swung, he snapped. The villain had caught the log in his teeth, and was now stuck. I dropped the log, and ran to the aid of the terrified beast. The snake was thrashing wildly, and knocked the branch against the overhanging cliff, and dislodged some rocks. I noticed a large stone, which was now very unstable, teetering on the edge, ready to descend on all three lives below. I shoved my body against the friendly creature, but it would not move, the snakes impending strike was frightening it still. I pushed with all my might, and the beast ran. At that time, the snake broke free, and it struck the beast's leg with such a flash, that I had little time to react. It was not needed, for the creature was dead.The stone had come loose, and fell right onto the the serpent's head, and crushed its skull. The danger was over, but the te effect lingered. I now gazed upon a sick beast, one I had tried so hard to help. He was lying not 3 feet away, breathing heavily. His wound was deep, and and he became cold. I could not just leave him here to die. I rushed over to nearby bushes, and grab some plant fibers to construct a crude bandage. I also gathered some of the purple berries, they, above the rest, seemed to hold the most value. I knelt down beside, him (I used reasoning to determine his gender) and fed him some berries to keep him conscious to some extent. I sat there and nursed this beast for hours, days, and even weeks. I tended his wounds, and kept him full, I came to be attached to, what I could only call, a Parasaurolophus.
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