Realistic or Modern Just Two Aliens Trying to Fit In

[Danoram]

Welcome, friends, to our little story. Feel free to read over for some time-killing entertainment, and to get familiar with our fun, little characters here.

Cracker

 

[Danoram]

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"Initiate our descent, maintain concomitance," Xivha calls to his partner beside him. The two push forward on their control wheels, steering the massive airship downward at speeds of greater than 2000 miles-per-hour, thus directing their travel toward the planet Green, otherwise known as Earth.

Already become of a humanistic form, Xivha looks at his partner and smiles, saying in a deep, smoky voice, "Finally, we'll leave this wretched ship." He returns his attention to the growing celestial body ahead. "It's been one-thousand-one-hundred and nine moons now. I've decided that once we land, I'll never eat, much less touch, dried salmo again." At the thought of the mentioned food, his nose wrinkles in disapproval. "'Tis no longer a delicacy as it was once. Now it tastes of early-stage oxidation..."

Amidst his talking, the ship enters the Earth's exosphere, and upon noticing, Xivha lets up on his control wheel a tad but forgets to inform his partner. The inner gears of the drive panel suddenly begin to grind and shudder, and Xivha's eyes widen, as he's just made a terrible mistake. "Blast it!" he curses, immediately trying to recover consistency within the system's inner functions, to match their control wheels' axis again. However, he applies an inaccurate force and the ship backfires. It starts to turn. Over and over, he tries to fix the problem but only makes it worse, repeatedly engaging the aircraft's throttle to only one of its engines, while his partner tries, too, to match with him.

"P-Pull back at the same time with equal force!" His voice is barely loud enough to overcome the clanging racket of the vehicle's mechanics. It pops and smokes, and sparks and shakes, undoubtedly falling apart from the inside out. Their efforts are to no avail. Knowing there's nothing left for them to do, Xivha exits his seat, taking his partner by the shoulder for him to follow. "Let's go," he yells, heading for the escape-pod as the ship enters the Earth's stratosphere. They've not long before the whole thing crashes, and he'll be damned before they crash with it.

C-A-P-E-S-E. He types these letters into the escape-pod's external activation pad, then the doors swing open. The both of them enter in, pulling the doors shut, and Xivha re-enters that same password into the internal activation pad. Within moments before their ship plummets like a stray asteroid into the Earth's pacific ocean, they manage to deploy safely, and the pod descends slowly into those same waters shortly after. Now, here they sit, stranded miles from land with nothing to eat or drink or entertain themselves with, bouncing with rough waves that are seemingly uncomfortable for Xivha, as his face has grown ghostly pale all of the sudden.

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[Cracker]

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Quoro sat dead still in the escape pod as it fluently followed the ocean's aggressive waves. With an unfazed expression masking his internal panic, he tilted his head to the left as he stared out of the small, glass window, "Did you not have expectations of complete failure in the ship's functions whilst you expressed your hostile feelings toward dried salmo?" His voice was tight as he basically asked Xivha if he was stupid.

When Quoro took a glance at his partner who almost blended in with the bright horizon, he started noticing odd symptoms that gave a bad impression. He let out a loud gasp and jumped from his seat, "Are you being poisoned by the humans' vile and untreated planet?" He threw his hands out before his partner, "Your mortality shall not be lost so simply!" Quoro grabbed Xivha by the shoulders, violently shaking his body, and demanding an answer as he worried for his friend.

It didn't register to Quoro that shaking Xivha would appear to make him feel worse, "Oh no!" His voice changed to that of understanding, "Xivha, please don't lose control of emesis." He released his grip on Xivha and inched away as far as he could until his back met the wall of the pod. It was only a matter of time before the other gave up on holding back and releasing his stomach contents.

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[Danoram]

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"I blame the- brghh-" something inside of Xivha coils and prevents him from speaking. If he could, he'd tell his partner that the fault is with whoever designed their aircraft in the first place. To maintain complete and utter parallelism is just impossible, as evident in their current situation.

Foolishness, he inwardly inveighs before Quoro's sudden and imprudent behavior, which only makes Xivha all the more sickly, causing him to curl forward in suffering. His throat tightens, jaw burning, and he begins to salivate profusely, growing more and more to the brink of expulsion.

"Quoro," he wheezes, crawling across the floor and up to the guy. Xivha grabs Quoro's foot in an act of desperation, looking at him with misty eyes and burping to clear way for his words, "If this somehow- If it kills me... I want you to tell my story- but don't- I want you to exaggerate it a bit... Hype me up- Brghh- Oh dear- Brrrgh- Uurgh!"

Xivha's cheeks bulge with vomit, a sparkling, translucent, icky substance that spews all over his partner's legs. It drains down his pants and into the floor, spreading like a plague--but on the positive side, Xivha has nothing left to put out, so anything more than this will be strictly dry-heaving. "I'm so sorry," he breathes weakly, still groveling in the floor at Quoro's feet, lying in the vomit because he's too tired to care.

Three days is how long they spend in the pod before it finally washes upon a sandy beach in California. Standing by the window, Xivha looks out at the city, calling out to Quoro, "Come look," he says. "We've reached land..." and though they're both covered in bodily fluids and smell of stale breath, this moment proves the utmost pleasure. "We finally made it..."

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[Cracker]

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Quoro, who was sat against the wall, wide-eyed and rocking back and forth as he hugged his bare knees, whispering incoherent mumbles, snapped out of his trance when his partner spoke. He jumped from the cold and sticky floor of the escape pod and walked a brisk pace with a stiffened posture toward Xivha. He felt a sudden chill on his naked legs. After Quoro's pants were drenched by Xivha's puke, he was left with no choice but to remove and toss them into the ocean. From there, he now stands in only a pair of white boxers and a grey T-shirt.

Quoro looked out of the glass and teared up at the long desired view. He was relieved to reach land, but the only thing was, where do they go from here? Quoro harshly slammed his finger against the glass, pointing at a hot dog stand across the beach, "Ow- There. We will consume the..." He stopped and squinted his eyes to read the sign, "The um... We will consume what the humans call gotshod!" He says with confidence before entering the code to open the pod's doors.

The doors opened and at last, he could breathe the... horrid polluted air and smell the grease being produced at the hot dog stand. He scrunched his nose in distaste, "On second thought, Xivha, we will not consume the humans'- What?!" He glanced at the sign again, but it appeared to read something different this time, "I misread it the first time. It's says shodhog." He shook his head with two fingers pressed to his temple, "How embarrassing." After his exaggerated sheepishness, his head shot back up and his face drained of emotion, "To a place!" He pointed ahead with no direction and ran up the beach. It wasn't even a few seconds before he tripped over a sand bucket, falling face first, "Mother of air crafts!" Quoro loudly cursed non-profane words before swallowing a mouth full of sand. "Ugh!" He pushed himself onto his hands and knees and began to spit out the hot substance, "How sickening! Why does this planet have such filthy silicon dioxide?!" Quoro turned his focus back to his partner, "We're doomed here, my friend." He dramatized his words, "Let's just die in the escape pod." And with that, he gave up on supporting his body and fell into the sand.

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[Danoram]

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Xivha follows Quoro onto the sandy beach, feeling vomit squish beneath his feet in his shoes, but entirely careless of it, as his attention is focused entirely on the city-scape ahead beyond a long-extended, wooden fence that stretches left and right for quite a while--perhaps forever if he didn't know better.

Meanwhile, his partner struggles to read the humans' written language, which is to be expected. Their English studies were cut short by the war on their home planet before its demise, afterwhich they were forced to evacuate entirely, in turn being the only two to survive.

During their travel to the Green Planet--or Earth--they performed solid observations through satellite cameras to better understand how its inhabitants lived, so that they could fit in upon arrival. Using their own technology, they hacked Earthen web-browsers and found suitable forms to imitate being that their original appearance would most likely terrify the humans.

Suddenly, Quoro falls into the sand, and Xivha's eyes widen, averting from the city buildings and passing cars. People along the distance begin to crowd, approaching, seemingly shaken and withdrawn by them. After all, they did just wash up from the ocean in a foreign mode of transportation. Blast it... Xivha curses. If they're found out as aliens, they'll be taken and experimented on, and he can't have that! Absolutely not!

"Hey...?" an elderly man calls from amidst the people, shoving his way between two women.

Xivha squeals something raspy and fearful. He helps his partner up and begins backing away, peeking over his shoulder at their escape pod where a group of children has congregated. "Get away from that!" he yells to them, and they disperse, some laughing and some wide-eyed with alarm, running back to their parents or just disappearing down the beach to finish their sandcastles.

Turning back to the old man, who is now uncomfortably close, Xivha holds his breath and his grip tightens around his partner's wrist. What to do in this situation, he wonders frantically but feels he should hurry. Think! Think! Pale, blue eyes scan the area, then the old man in front of him. He's overweight and by the breath on his words, Xivha detects asthma, meaning they can outrun him. Most definitely. Thinking no further than that, he reaches back and slaps the man across the face before taking off toward the city with Quoro in tow, screaming like that of a first-timer on a rollercoaster despite the old man not following them--instead, he's standing confused near the crowd, which is really just five or six people, and rubbing at the reddening skin of his cheek.

"Quickly, Quoro!" Xivha warns, "To a dark, ominous alley! I studied that people avoid them for an unknown reason, as I was experiencing a case of R-B-M before I could read further!"

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[Cracker]

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Quoro followed along with Xivha's panicked escape. Their run didn't last long, ending when they turned into a dark and trashed alleyway. It was located in between two apartment buildings and came to a dead end with a pointless brick wall. The sides were covered in graffiti of various things and there was nothing but a dumpster and trash bags all around the concrete ground.

"Your studies have impressed me, Xivha!" Quoro laughed with a strangely stiff neck, almost as if he was trying to hold something back. His chin was tucked in as he forcefully stretched a smile, "I believe we've made an escape!" He faced his partner, staring awkwardly at him with his painfully unnatural grin.

Quoro gulped and stopped laughing. He cleared his throat and looked down at the ground, whispering to himself, "Oh, I'm so embarrassed."

After that was over, he cleared his throat and re-straightened his posture, once again holding a firm and serious face. "Right," he turned toward the graffiti, "This art is an illegal act of crime called vandalism. I researched it when I was on our home planet." Quoro followed the walls downward toward the end with his hands grasped together behind his back.

"Hmm..." He scooped his finger across the spray paint and sniffed it, "This appears to be created through some combination of paint and gas propellant." He shifted himself back to his partner and placed his right hand on his hip, "Anyway, what you suppose we do now?"

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