Mean Green Mother from Outer Space [OPEN]
Luis was getting bored.
Sure, he'd always griped about the constant parade of potential life and limb-threatening pathogens that came across his desk-- the number of grim and possibly ship-wrecking case studies he had to work on... and let's not even talk about the alphabet of Umbrella-related paraphernalia he'd had to deal with.
But now that most of it was out of the way, or at least at a stage where it wouldn't mutate and bite people's heads off, Luis was finding a lack of projects to interest him. He hadn't had anything aside from his personal tank of alien snails to interest him for quite a while. He supposed he could always try that "getting out more" thing that people kept suggesting, but when his previous "getting out" experience had been in Madrid, the city with the greatest nightlife in the world, there wasn't much on the comparatively bland spaceship to interest him.
Lately, he'd been coming to hydroponics to do a little field study. He'd spend hours poking around at the various plant life, taking water samples, observing the animals, whatever could keep him occupied.
Today, for the last three hours, he'd been occupied by a large and interesting plant he'd found about a hundred yards into the hydroponics dome. It was a beautiful specimen with long vines and huge, colorful leaves that looked almost iridescent, and a long, tubular flower with a sweet scent, likely to attract insects.
As Luis came to find out, the plant was actually carnivorous, as when he approached it had grabbed him with several of its long vines and was currently suspending him upside-down in midair. The plant didn't seem to know what to do with him, having already attempted to drop him into its flower "mouth" and finding that he didn't fit. He couldn't be eaten, but it must have seemed like a shame to let such huge prey escape.
And so he hung there, hopelessly entwined in the plant's vines, having dropped his omnicomm and unable to send a message for help. His distaste for tentacles luckily didn't extend over to vines... but it was certainly getting there.
"Is anybody out there?" he yelled. "I could use a little help here!"
Sure, he'd always griped about the constant parade of potential life and limb-threatening pathogens that came across his desk-- the number of grim and possibly ship-wrecking case studies he had to work on... and let's not even talk about the alphabet of Umbrella-related paraphernalia he'd had to deal with.
But now that most of it was out of the way, or at least at a stage where it wouldn't mutate and bite people's heads off, Luis was finding a lack of projects to interest him. He hadn't had anything aside from his personal tank of alien snails to interest him for quite a while. He supposed he could always try that "getting out more" thing that people kept suggesting, but when his previous "getting out" experience had been in Madrid, the city with the greatest nightlife in the world, there wasn't much on the comparatively bland spaceship to interest him.
Lately, he'd been coming to hydroponics to do a little field study. He'd spend hours poking around at the various plant life, taking water samples, observing the animals, whatever could keep him occupied.
Today, for the last three hours, he'd been occupied by a large and interesting plant he'd found about a hundred yards into the hydroponics dome. It was a beautiful specimen with long vines and huge, colorful leaves that looked almost iridescent, and a long, tubular flower with a sweet scent, likely to attract insects.
As Luis came to find out, the plant was actually carnivorous, as when he approached it had grabbed him with several of its long vines and was currently suspending him upside-down in midair. The plant didn't seem to know what to do with him, having already attempted to drop him into its flower "mouth" and finding that he didn't fit. He couldn't be eaten, but it must have seemed like a shame to let such huge prey escape.
And so he hung there, hopelessly entwined in the plant's vines, having dropped his omnicomm and unable to send a message for help. His distaste for tentacles luckily didn't extend over to vines... but it was certainly getting there.
"Is anybody out there?" he yelled. "I could use a little help here!"