u/Baileyjrob

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Jessica

What the fuck was going on?!

Strange buildings towering overhead, I crept behind the monster with the lightest footfalls I could manage. It glanced around, then turned back to me and chirped. This Rorad, whoever they were, appeared to be friendly enough. I couldn’t afford to trust them any more than necessary, but their hesitant offering of food was more kindness and charity than I’d seen since I’d arrived here. 

Bait for the trap.

I grimaced and tried to shake the thought out of my head. I couldn't deny the possibility, but I also couldn’t let paranoia drive me. In the mere couple hours I’d been here, food and shelter had been concerns secondary only to security. I already had been afforded one of these needs, and with any luck, the other two would follow suit. That just left finding a way home.

Wherever that even IS relative to here. Where the hell even is “here?”

No matter how much I ruminated on it, I couldn’t pin down how I’d gotten here. One minute, I’d been performing routine experiments warping spacetime, the next I was face-to-face with a Rorad and its… angry companion. I didn’t need to speak their language to understand hostility when I’m being wrestled to the ground, nor did I need to understand all the details to panic when alarms sounded as I fled.

The obvious explanation was that I’d teleported, but the receiver was only a couple meters away from the sender, and I wasn’t even in the effective radius! It shouldn’t be possible… and yet, here I was.

Was I in a different universe? Another time stream? I couldn’t rule anything out. And if I was on another planet, who could say where Earth was? What if I was on the other side of the galaxy—fuck, what if I was in a different galaxy, or even beyond the bounds of the observable universe?! That shouldn’t be anywhere close to possible, but then, none of this was!

I ground to a halt, my feet anchoring to the floor as the Rorad flicked its tail inches from my face. I opened my mouth to tell it to watch itself, but then I noticed its eyes locked on something in the distance, a protrusion in one of the many strange pillars lining the roads. I tried my best to discern what the creature was thinking, but I would receive my answer a moment later as it launched into the air. It grabbed a perch about 20 feet up before launching once again up to a rooftop. I threw my hands up in frustration. That bastard had abandoned me! Maybe I’d misread it, maybe it had been trying to leave all along. 

It peaked over the rooftop, looking down at me, and squawked. Was it… was it expecting me to follow it? I stifled a laugh, thrusting my hand in front of my mouth, and it squawked once more at me. I shook my head, unable to keep a small smile off of my face. I had to take moments of cheer where I could get it, and the strange, clueless look in its eyes as it gazed at me from dozens of feet above was undeniably humorous.

I made a dramatic show of crouching as much as I could, bracing myself, and leaping with all my might. I soared a mighty foot and a half off the ground, and shrugged to the monster. Its eyes locked onto me, a vacant look pinning me to the floor. I couldn’t tell if it didn’t understand my display, or if it was so flabbergasted by my weakness that it wasn’t sure how to respond.

I’d learned a decent amount about these creatures’ physical capabilities while escaping during my initial encounter. Their legs were remarkably powerful, able to send them soaring into the sky at shocking altitudes. This, followed by using their wing flaps to glide, seemed to be their most comfortable mode of travel.

They were, of course, capable of ground travel, but thankfully, we humans seemed to have the leg up on them there. Their walking and running speeds seemed to be far slower than a human, and while they could sprint at astounding speeds, they couldn’t turn or stop nearly as easily. One of their armored folk had made a charge at me during my escape. I had almost been bowled over by the sheer speed, but I’d had the presence of mind to dive out of the way. The resulting crash had dented one of their containers and left my would-be captor sprawled on the floor.

The friendly Rorad hopped off of the roof, landing back by my side and paced. Its tail lashed long and slow, its eyes only leaving me to glance at the column. I leaned against the wall, allowing it time to think, and its face turned toward the perch embedded in the side of the building. 

It looked at me, then the post, then me, then the post… and then it walked up close and squatted down, extending its arms and deploying its wing flaps.

“…no.” I shook my head. “You want me to… to ride you?!?!”

It offered me a casual chirp and wiggled its back, as if my comprehension was the problem. These creatures weren’t exactly steady in their ascents, their steep rises were little more than glorified jumps. I had also never seen any of them gliding with any substantial cargo… and now I was supposed to hop on its back as it leapt upwards of 40 feet into the air?!

“Fuck, no way, I can’t…—“ I bit my lip and glanced over at the protrusion in the street pillar. Whatever that was, despite my lack of understanding, I could tell that this Rorad wanted to avoid it. It didn’t want to get anywhere near it, as if just being in front of it would… would…

“Oh shit, that’s a camera, isn’t it?” I couldn’t tell, their technology was completely alien to me, but it would track. It had been looking around a lot during its interaction with me… did it know that its kind was pursuing me? It wanted to avoid detection… it…

It was putting itself on the line for me?

“Shit…” I had no choice, did I? If it was risking who knows how much for me, then I had to put some trust in it. It wouldn’t do this if it didn’t think it was capable, unless it was just crazy. Which… wasn’t out of the question.

With jelly legs, I approached the Rorad and lifted a leg to straddle it. I moved like a glacier, giving it ample time to rebuff me if I was misinterpreting. To both my relief and growing dread, the creature instead shuffled under me, reaffirming my assumption. I let my weight settle onto it, and it stumbled, shifting its tail and “wings” to accommodate me. It didn’t fill me with confidence, but I wasn’t left with many alternatives.

“Okay, uh… yip yip, I guUUEEEAAAHH!” Despite my efforts to remain calm, I couldn’t help but scream as I found myself launched into the sky at dizzying speeds. Nausea swelled within me, my stomach churning as we landed with an uncomfortable thud on the post. The Rorad stumbled, losing its footing, and it deployed its wings to adjust to my weight. Fuck, I knew this was a bad idea!

Moving with the utmost speed, the creature launched once more, and I felt myself shift. It had adjusted to support itself, but that had left me off of its center of gravity. I screamed and grabbed the Rorad, squeezing it to ensure I didn’t fall off, and it tilted under my grasp. I was aware that I’d just ruined its own balance, but had I not grabbed on when I did, I would have fallen without a doubt: a lethal prospect.

The creature and I did a sort of midair tumble, falling head-over-heel, and it took only a second or two before the hard roof of the building slammed into my side. I gasped and disconnected from my makeshift mount, and the two of us rolled apart.

“Ugh… you alright?” I groaned, collecting myself and rising to my feet.

“Tetlo,” it responded, and I grunted. It was nice to hear what actually sounded like words out of it, rather than… bird noises. It alternated, including more standard phonemes amongst strings of nonsense caws and clucks and chirps. There was an obvious language present, but deciphering it was going to prove a challenge.

I rubbed my side, probing for any injuries. The skin was tender, bruised no doubt, but there was no sign of spraining or broken bones. Good, because I doubted our journey ended here. The Rorad whistled and whipped its tail, drawing my attention, before continuing off in another direction—southward by Earth terms, based on the side the sun rose, but who knew what rules applied to this place?

Our trek was long and arduous. Cameras were still placed high enough to see us, but now they were more sporadic: evasion was more feasible. The gaps between buildings tended to be narrow enough that I could leap them with ease, and where they weren’t, I needed to go for another ride on my trusty monster.  We discovered that its gliding, while not totally impossible with me astride, was hampered a great deal. We descended hard and fast, most attempts ending with us tumbling in a painful manner. Still, for now, it was our only option. 

Over the course of 30 minutes, we crept our way from building to building, avoiding detection and nursing our aches, when we came to our destination. To my eyes, it was a building like any other, but the Rorad opened the skylight and hopped in. I gazed in, careful to make sure I wasn’t taking a blind leap off a tall ledge.

A Rorad building was, if this was any indication, designed for vertical movement as much if not more than horizontal. They had floors, in a sense, but each one was more like a balcony that gave way to a sheer drop. Perches lined a number of locations, including each “floor”, which my ally hopped between. It sang a stream of chirps, caws, and syllables, communing with me in a manner just as indecipherable as everything that came before.

“Nice place,” I grunted, lowering myself from the skylight and dropping to the floor below. It was a small drop, only about six feet. Unpleasant, and my feet stung, but nothing I couldn’t handle. This seemed to be a storage area, not too dissimilar to an attic. I peaked over the edge at the dizzying fall that awaited me if I wasn’t careful, and my eyes locked with the creature.

It seemed to want something of me, though what, I couldn’t say. My mouth flopped open and closed, unsure how to address it.

“You and I are gonna need to find some way to communicate, bud,” I huffed, already getting tired of trying to intuit an unreadable form. We needed a basic set of words we could use to explain simple concepts. The best starting point was physical objects. Problem was, I couldn’t always be sure what everything around me was. Even if there was an Earth-analogue, I couldn’t guarantee that I would recognize that. I hadn’t noticed the cameras until I recognized the Rorad’s behavior, and—

Okay, actually, I should probably learn its name too… and I should probably stop calling it “it.” I had no idea how we’d communicate concepts of gender identity, words for sex were still a ways away, and I wasn’t about to start trying to eye up its genitals (assuming I’d even know them if I saw them), so for now, I’d go with “he.” Didn’t really have any reason, I probably should’ve gone with “they”, but “he” just felt right.

Sorry if I’m misgendering you, monster pal. That’s pretty low on the priority list, but I promise we’ll cross that bridge eventually. Oh geez, what if they had completely alien genders: maybe they were hermaphroditic, or sexually fluid and lacked a concept of gender. Maybe they had more than two sexes.

Focus, Jessica. Cross that bridge later.

I opened one of the nearby boxes, and began rummaging, looking for something I could use for the sake of demonstration. The Rorad leapt up to my level, vocalizing at me and approaching with trepidation. Soon enough, I found something that would work: I pulled out four sticks with patterns carved into them. As curious as I was about the function, that was yet again a topic for later. I turned to face the stranger, holding up one stick.

“Jessica,” I said emphatically. I pointed to myself, then pointed to the stick, then repeated multiple times. “Jessica.” I moved the stick in and out before placing it on the ground. I then laid the remainder of the sticks next to it and waved my hands over the collection. “Humans.”

The Rorad stared at it, eyes flicking between the sticks and me. He reached out one of his long, slender hands, and wrapped it around the stick I’d used to denote myself. He gestured it in my direction.

“Human.”

I nodded. “Jessica. Human.” I took the stick from him. “Jessica. Human.” I then placed it back next to the rest. I pointed at each, one by one. “Human, human, human, human.” I then waved over them all. “Humans.”

Once more, the creature looked between the stick and me, before making a noise like a rising whistle. He repeated it three times, before taking the stick back from me. “Rorad. Cawhyl.” He placed the stick in the group. “Cawhyl, Cawhyl, Cawhyl, Cawhyl.” He gestured over the whole group. “Cawhyli.”

…Ah. We’d miscommunicated. I’d assumed Rorad was his species name… so chances are, he’d assumed human was my personal name. We hadn’t even made it one word into each other’s languages before miscommunicating in a major way.

We’re off to the races.

Hey y’all:

Today, I was playing a game where I was the huntsman. The slayer and the damsel were neighboring the demon, and the ST made the damsel the marionette.

Is this allowed? Not only does this make the outsider count outright wrong, it also makes the huntsman’s thing null. There was no drunk added to offset this or anything.

Rorad

My eyes flickered open, greeted by warm rays of sunlight streaking in through the window, and a pesky alarm. I stretched my tail, my arms, my legs, my neck, and I let out a happy chirp as my back gave a satisfying crack. That always felt good. If I couldn’t enjoy sleep, I could at least enjoy the morning ritual.

I performed a cursory stretch of my patagia and glided over to my clothing box, picking out a hefty utility pouch and wrapping it around my waist. When I got to work, I’d be able to put on some more clothing for safety, but I wasn’t looking for an altercation with the Surveillance Corps. As I moved to close the box, my eyes lingered on a qlyquik resting at the bottom of the container, and my takqrew displayed the brief rush of emotions that surged through me. I gulped and shut the box, rubbing my chest to soothe myself.

That accessory had been inherited from my mother after her passing. Once upon a time, I’d worn it with great pride, adorning my etit with emblazoned colors. We hadn’t been a wealthy family, but this one piece of clothing had been passed down through my mom’s side of the family for generations: I couldn’t bear to pawn it. Thankfully, the government had only made wearing one illegal, not owning one…yet… so there it sat gathering dust. My mother had made me promise, as she died, to stay out of trouble. I wasn’t suicidal enough to wear it regardless, but that stayed my hand more than anything.

The idea, according to the Speakers, was that only those with something to hide would cover up their takqrew. Not that qlyquiki covered up much, the etit still needed to be visible to communicate emotions and all, but such was the Speakers’ mandate. I swished my tail with annoyance and leapt out the window, gliding my way down to the street level as my commute to work began.

The red sun shone bright in the sky overhead as a crisp breeze rustled my fur. I tried my best to focus on the little things, allowing the warmth of the sun’s rays to soothe my troubled spirit. I scanned the sky nearby, making sure my trajectory was clear, before launching off the ground and spreading my patagia, catching the wind and streaking alongside the towering buildings. 

I did a quick twirl for one of the street cameras.  Maybe some bored intern at Surveillance would get a kick out of that.

As I came down once more, some distance from where I’d begun, my eyes lingered on a pamphlet plastered to a nearby light post.

“Beware the Beast! A monster is on the prowl in your neighborhood. Don’t join its prey! If you spot Beastsign, contact the authorities posthaste! It could be hiding anywhere! Be vigilant!”

I clucked and rolled my eyes. A Beast, huh? So we were dispensing with simile and just downright pretending there was a monster. I turned away and ambled down the street, talons scraping along the ground as I walked. I wondered what the “Beast” was supposed to represent this time? Dissidents? Foreigners? Activists? Of course, that was the fun with Roque: it was whatever lurked in the shadows of your heart, inspiring fear. Whatever would get you to turn on your neighbors instead of them. 

Of course, once all other political parties became branded terrorist groups, Roque lost their easy scapegoats to fearmonger with. It seemed they were getting desperate. “Beast.” Pfft.

I felt anger and anxiety swell inside me, and my takqrew surged in color in kind. A frantic glance around told me that no one was watching me. Okay, okay, shit, get it under control. Think happy thoughts! The sun is nice. The wind smells pleasant. I had a good stretch this morning. Breathe… breathe…

I felt serenity return to me, and I continued on my way with a dwindling but persistent sense of anxiety. The last thing I needed was anyone getting the idea that seeing government propaganda made me mad. That’d have me on a fast-track to a re-education facility. Then my mom would be really disappointed, in whatever afterlife she’s in.

My tail swished in a friendly greeting to the local precinct enforcer, Tosza. Despite the ruthlessness of Roque, and the reputation of its agents from top to bottom, Tosza was by all accounts a good man. I had always had some reservations about him, on account of his job, but when my mother had taken ill, he’d been sure to deliver medicine to her when I was preoccupied with work. I owed him a great deal for his help. I’d never pushed my luck enough to question why he chose to be an enforcer, and I imagined I wouldn’t understand if I did, but I figured he at least deserved a polite greeting.

“Fine morning, Rorad!” He said from across the road. I chirped a greeting back, unable to decide which words to use in response. Tosza flicked his tail and chirped with an amused tone, and I continued along my way. 

The next ten minutes were uneventful. I stopped by a pastry shop I had a fondness for and grabbed a small breakfast, taking the bag with me as I walked and glided my way to the factory. I had some time to spare, so I leapt up to the top of a building and soared as high as possible. There was a certain freedom in being above the lanes and walkways between the buildings. There weren’t as many people who bothered gliding this high, due to the effort of getting up here, so it was nice to be able to just look down on the area and—

What the fuck was that?!

It was only a flash, so fast I couldn’t describe what I’d seen, but in a nondescript alley between two buildings, I had seen… something. My heart had seized with panic at the strange sight, my instinct responding faster than my conscious mind. What was that, it looked so… off. I almost tumbled out of the sky as my composure faltered, but instead I pivoted and began gliding to the entrance of the alleyway. 

At some point on the brief trip there, the thought occurred: what was I doing? Whatever I’d seen had triggered a panic response so fast that I didn’t even have time to process what I’d seen. Any sane person would keep their head down and stay moving. That’s what I should do… but… damn it, I just had to know! 

I was absolutely the person who died first in horror movies. My mom was screaming in my ear to leave, but I couldn’t listen. I was too curious.

My feet collided with the ground a bit too fast, and I stumbled. Once I’d recovered my balance, I turned to face the alley. What I saw shocked me to my core.

Nothing.

I let out a curious cluck and swished my tail, looking around the passage with confusion. There was a dumpster, some discarded boxes and bags, a few syringes (classy), and general garbage, but nothing shocking. I paced about the alley, looking around for any sign of what had provoked such a reaction. After some pacing and scanning, I opened the dumpster and—

“AH FUCK FUCK FUCK!!” I screamed and jumped back as something within lunged out at me. The sharp end of a broken bottle was thrust toward my face and throat, but my fast reaction left it only air. My legs slid out from under me, and I scrambled backward and planted my back against the wall, tail curling up to cover my vulnerable neck. Between my outstretched fingers, placed before me in a naive attempt to protect myself, was… something.

The creature was bipedal and possessed of two hands, one of which clutched the neck of a broken bottle. It wore a long, constrictive outfit, perhaps prison attire? Its face was flat, lacking any sort of muzzle, beak, or snout. All of that, however, was something I realized after a moment. Because the first thing I noticed was just how transparent its skin was. I could see the blood flowing through its body clearly, as if a thin layer of film had been placed over an otherwise exposed circulatory system. I could map out its organs, its bones, and its heart, which was beating rapidly.

“W-what are you…?” I muttered. The answer, of course, was obvious. The Beast. That was all this could be, such a strange creature. What kind of monster was this? It almost seemed like a deep sea creature, yet it walked and breathed on land. Then again, its breath was sharp, shallow, and fast: perhaps it was struggling after all?

The creature thrust the bottle at me three more times, and I recoiled, but it made no motions to approach me. I was well out of reach of its stubby little hands… was it threatening me? Perhaps it had claimed the garbage as its territory? That would make sense, except…

“Wait, you’re using tools!” I chirped, excitement infiltrating my voice. It furrowed its eyes, making an expression I couldn’t decipher, and began barking at me. Its voice was deep and guttural, scratchy and unmelodic. I couldn’t begin to understand what it was trying to convey—a threat, if I had to guess—but I was preoccupied by the implications of the bottle in its hand.

“Wait a second… that strange outfit… the bottle… the vocalizations…” My eyes shot open, and my tail whipped around like a rotor. I could barely control my excitement-song. “You’re intelligent, aren’t you?! Oh my god, non-Trelt sapient life! And it’s… it’s… um… what are you doing in a dumpster?”

Its facial expression remained unchanged as it stared me down, the only movement being its wavering hand and its eyes darting up and down. Right, it couldn’t understand me. Let’s see, let’s see… how to communicate…?

Oh! Let’s try the universal language: food!

I reached into my bag, and the Beast barked at me. I froze for a moment, aiming not to provoke it, before continuing as slow as possible. It continued to vocalize at me, but it at least seemed somewhat pacified by my slow motion. Perhaps it was worried I was pulling out a weapon?

As exciting as it was to meet another sapient creature—at least I hoped it was, or this was very embarrassing—I couldn’t deny the pounding in my heart. This Beast was so… uncanny, so creepy. Seeing inside of it like this, it was a walking reminder of death. Not to mention the government warnings. I tried not to put too much stock into official dogma, but considering this monster’s grisly appearance, I couldn’t help but consider the possibility that its nickname was founded.

I pulled out my meal and reached out with a shaking hand to give it to the Beast. This was the moment of truth—I was putting myself in a vulnerable range. If I misjudged its disposition, it could stab me with ease. Its wary eyes followed my hand, and in a flash it swiped the food and hissed at me. I jumped back and watched as it eyed the food with curiosity, sniffing at it and wrinkling its nose. It was curious how its nose protruded separately from its mouth, what strange anatomy. I wondered where in the world this being came from: what hole could such an incredible, terrifying monster have been hiding in?

It tore off a small piece of the food and rubbed it against its skin, watching the point of contact. After some moments, it popped the piece into its mouth and swished it around, not swallowing. It must have been making sure it was safe to eat: maybe it came from a different region entirely? It was smart enough to test the food, so I felt comfortable that it was sapient, but so much about the Beast was a mystery.

It began twitching, bouncing up and down, before finally appearing satisfied with its test and devouring the food at a speed that I couldn’t help but find frightening. I barely even saw it eat, my would-be breakfast was simply there and then it wasn’t. 

“You must be really hungry,” I noted, squatting down into a comfortable position. It glanced in each direction, making sure the coast was clear, before climbing out of the dumpster and sitting in a position that had to be uncomfortable.

My initial assumption that it was bipedal was correct, but somehow it lacked a tail. Instead, it stood (and sat) completely upright, lacking any counterbalances. Its sense of balance must be precarious. To add on to the overall strangeness of this being, its legs appeared plantigrade. It sat flat on its waist, legs crossed in front of it, though it didn’t let go of the bottle.

Okay… so… it’s mirroring me? It’s willing to listen… but it’s not fully trusting. Fair enough.

“The feds have it out for you,” I muttered, once more glancing back and forth to ensure we weren’t being watched. As far as I was concerned, the Beast, as frightening as it was, had no ill-intent. It had two opportunities to kill me, if it wanted, and it was clearly hungry and desperate. Whatever it was, whatever it desired, it wasn’t wanton killing.

I scratched a claw on the ground, pensive. I was at a crossroad here, and there were three possible options. I could turn the Beast in: that would be the “safest” option, no doubt. There might even be a reward in it for me. The main downside, of course, being that ever-pesky morality. I couldn’t bring myself to actively harm an innocent creature, especially not one as unique as whatever this thing was.

The second option was to walk away. I could wash my hands of this entirely, decide it wasn’t my problem. I could go to work and forget about all of this. But then the Beast would be on its own, and who knew what would happen then? Yes, it wasn’t malicious, but it had still tried to kill me when I found it. It was desperate and scared and hungry, and that was a recipe for bloodshed. What would it do when it was so hungry it would do anything for a bite? That blood that would be spilled would be on me. And besides, it would inevitably get captured or killed without help, it would just be a slower rate than if I turned it in. Which led me to option three…

“Alright, well…” Was I really doing this? How foolish could I be? I had no love for the government, but to openly defy it was suicide! Or worse! I had always kept my head down, kept my displeasure to myself.  I was a good little citizen, not a rebellious bone in my body! Yet every fiber of my being screamed that such a unique entity couldn’t be allowed to vanish into their clutches.

“…fuck it, I’m taking you home.” I stood up, and the Beast scrambled into a defensive posture, brandishing its makeshift weapon and squatting to cover its midsection. “Or would you rather rough it on the streets, ‘Beast?’”

I turned to lead it back home, but a thought occurred to me. I needed something to call it other than ‘Beast.’ It reentered my vision as I turned, and I pointed at myself.

“Rorad.” I pointed at it, but it just furrowed its eyes again. I’d need to learn what that expression meant, at some point. I pointed at myself again. “Rorad.” I then pointed at it again.

It mimed my pointing, and I tried going faster to make the association clearer. Point at self, say name, point at Beast, wait a moment. Wash, rinse, repeat. At some point, it seemed to get the idea, as it interjected before I was able to say my own name.

“Rorad,” it cut me off. My name sounded horribly rough, almost painful, coming out of its mouth, but it was clear it got the picture. It then pointed at itself. “Human.”

“Alright, we have names! A pleasure to meet you, Human. I’ll have to figure out what type of… thing you are later. For now, we need to get you somewhere hidden.”

I crept to the edge of the alleyway, looking for anyone who might spot us leaving. Human followed behind, keeping itself low and hidden as best as possible.

Even now, after committing, doubt crept into my mind. What was my game plan, here? I bring it home, and then what? Just live with it as a strange, monster roommate? How long do I hope to avoid detection? I had to figure out wherever this thing came from and bring it back, and I had to do it fast. The longer it was with me, the more danger we were both in. I had no idea how I’d sneak it onto a plane, I had to assume it didn’t come from the local area, but… fuck, I’d figure it out as I went.

“You better be worth the trouble, Human.”

My heart wasn’t in those words. It was too busy beating out of my chest. Despite everything, despite how dangerous this all was… I was excited.

Sorry, mom. Looks like I’m breaking that promise.