Kinverse: Volume One

PATH OF THE EMERALD MAIDEN

A naive young monster's tale by Moros, aka KinverseWriter

Legal Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise herein mentioned. No copyright infringement is intended. All characters and events in this story are entirely fictional. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental. This work of fiction contains disturbing content.

Reader discretion is advised.

Description:

A young woman from a pre-neolithic society is accidentally whisked away to another world entirely during a raid on a research lab run by alien invaders. Stranded with no friends, badly injured, and no idea where home even is, she's forced to live off the land and learn how to survive in this strange and hostile world.

There's only one slight problem, though.

She's not trapped in this world with them. They're trapped in this world with her.

Categories:

Adventure, Coming-of-Age, Isekai, Erotica.

Disclaimers:

This story contains sexual elements and disturbing themes. The contents aren't purely intended to be pornographic, but some scenes objectively are. This is about a giant monster that eats people, so reader discretion is advised. This story contains vorarephilic themes.

This story will have a very slow and intermittent pace to begin with. True stakes don't really show up until halfway through, though the build-up is always there in the background. This is ultimately not a story of grand adventure and defeating one's enemies to rise to the top, it is the tale of a lost and naive young woman growing as a person and learning new things. It is a personal one concerning her, and thus this story will be told in present-tense first-person.

Chapter 17: Braking Badly

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A/N:

Each of the arcs has a general theme. The first one was the protagonist finding herself in this new situation and figuring out how to deal with it, not to mention her place in it. The second arc is about learning and understanding the workings of this new world. The third will be one of consolidation, and the fourth will be one of expansion.

Storytelling is like conquering lands: you must first establish and prepare before you can take, and once taken, you must once more prepare. From there we reach the peak of the story and contraction begins, where all that has been established is made to build something great.

Thank you for coming to my seminar on world conquest and fiction writing.

---

I think I may be able to claim that I'm the first Kin to control fire.

Well... at least that my brood knew of.

Unfortunately, I won't be able to say the same about tall intruder movers. That bit of bragging belongs to one of my older sisters, who was once able to steal one and rather poorly make it move. It stopped working after a few days though--perhaps for the same reason as to why the fire-tamer wouldn't release flames any more.

I also didn't crash the fire-tamer a few times into trees. I wish I was there to see it, but I was too young. A Kin using a mover? Hilarious!

Hmmmm.

Speaking of which, I might be able to have a bit of my own fun soon...

The hunter's mover is very different from what I've seen previously, but not unheard of. Tall intruder movers vary in size but they're usually equivalent to the average broodmother of a few years and completely protect the occupants within. This one is a bit smaller than I, and looks like it's meant to be sat on.

It has four circles as its rolling feet, with two sticks to grip at its front. The black seat looks like it could fit at least one, maybe two tall intruders. On its back is an area to store objects, and slightly behind the entire device is a wood and sharp-rock surface with another two circles of its own that looks like it may be able to be attached.

Presumably the containers of meat would be stored on this for travel, but he would definitely have to make many trips to get all of the meat containers where he wants them to be. There are many bundled skinned elk hides on it already. Perhaps he has a larger mover somewhere he brings the meat to with his smaller one?

Unfortunately the trailing mover--trailer I suppose--is a bit smaller than the mover itself which means it would definitely be too small for me to ride on. It would be nice to have my own little tall intruder to operate my new things for me, and carry me around... Mother has briefly entertained the idea in the past; using the tall intruders for their things. It's an intriguing idea but we would need to subjugate them first, of course.

And to do that we'd need to actually win the war, which... hasn't been such an easy prospect, according to Mother and the many fields of burnt carapace. I had only ever seen the aftermath, never before participating in the slaughter until that fateful night. My mind goes back to the sight of torched corpses everywhere. There was a plan to come after. One great push. My lack of participation will not have changed things. How many more of my kin lay dead?

I shake my head.

Now isn't the time to think about how the brood is faring. I'm far from home and I've got other things to do.

However, what stands out most of all is its armoring. Dark green sharp-rock plating armors its innards from the weather. Truly our carapace armor must be the best if even the tall intruders with all their knowledge would make something similar!

With observing the mover done, it's time to move on to the next step. First rearing up, I reach a claw out to feel at the seat. It's a strange black material that absolutely reminds me of skin, which answers one question I had earlier; that they do use skin for cushioning, probably coverings as well. It would explain the hides--he is gathering resources.

With my other claw I reach out and grip one of the handles where it looks like a tall intruder's hand is supposed to go. There are odd protrusions on it, notably one a stick mirrored on the other handle as well. Just ahead of the seat near the handles are a myriad of controls similar to those on the fire-tamer, knobs to turn and buttons to push, and most perplexing of all, an empty slit-shaped hole surrounded by shining sharp-rock.

Beside the seat is a very large knob attached to its base by a short piece of material, and a slight scent from it calls to me. Rather than continue feeling at the odd dried skin I put my claw to it, and attempt a gentle twist. However, rather than come to life like the fire-tamer did, it refuses to budge.

Tall intruders are weaker than I, so I don't want to risk putting too much force into it and breaking it. It's far more likely I simply turned it the wrong way. Turning it the other way instead I encounter a little bit of resistance, but it does turn! Nothing happens, so I continue spinning it slowly as it rises. Odd... the fire-tamer didn't do this.

Aaand then it pops off.

Shit, I broke it!

I try to put it back on, but it refuses to attach properly! Lowering my head to it I look underneath and find... grooves? Is this what lets it turn? So, I turned it too much, which means I can't just push it back on, I need to turn it!

But before I can do that, I spot what was underneath it. It's another hole, like the one in front of the seat yet circular. The stench wafts out and I curiously smell it.

Sniff sniff.

Ohhhhh. I get it! This smells like the wake of the movers I saw weeks ago! The fire-tamer burnt something to make flames, maybe this thing burns fruits? Maybe that's why I smelled the fruits.

This smells... off, though, somehow. Definitely not a fruit I've ever smelled before. I compare it to fruits because it smells somewhat sweet--perhaps it is something they take from the fruits. Hmm. Best not to try and drink it then, I still remember the weird drink the female had. Attached firmly to the back of the mover is a red container that smells similarly. I can investigate this later.

Screwing it back on, I get yet another idea. This is familiar, this reminds me of the water containers!

Opening my bag I grab one and pull it out before sitting back on my haunches beside the mover. Looking at it from all sides, it does indeed appear to be like the mover's opening knob. Experimentally I apply a bit of pressure to twist it, and after a bit of resistance and a subtle crack as part of the lid breaks, it slides along the grooves, coming off completely. Like how the tall intruders I took this from did, I put the opening to my lips and tip back, pouring in the contents before swallowing.

Ahhh. It may just be water, but it's sweetened by the taste of knowledge!

I toss the empty container over my shoulder and an empty clunk sounds out. Turning around, I see I accidentally hit the surface that has the fire-tamer on it. Oops. Well, I didn't hit anything delicate and it wasn't very heavy anyway without the water.

Hmph. Well then. With that revelation out of the way, back to the mover.

Giddy with excitement I stand back up on my hindlegs again, reach across the machine, and grip the too-small handles before raising my leg to straddle the device. Balancing on one leg would normally be a bit of an, uh, interesting experience, but I've got a good grip on the mover with my foreclaws. The seat is absolutely too small for me and the mover very noticeably dips under my weight, but I've done it: I'm seated.

Not only is it too small, I... really don't fit. My tail is stuck straight back, my hindlegs can only stick out straight past the wheels, and I need to hunch forward to center my weight on the mover. I'm sure I must look quite funny, but thankfully nobody is around to see. Well, for better or for worse, this will definitely be another story for the broodlings.

Now to figure out how to make it move.

First, I squeeze the sticks on the handles. Nothing, though I can tell it did something by the way the mover very slightly shifts. The sticks have a little bit of resistance to them and when I release, they pop back out and the mover shifts again. Next, I play with the various knobs and dials in front of my groin, but none of them seem to do anything. Finally, I bring my hindclaw back and depress a surface on a stick jutting out far below the seat, but still, nothing happens.

Hmmm. Presumably it would have what it needs to run, unless it's missing something.

My mind goes back to when I saw the hunter set up the fire-tamer. He attached the cylinder to the side first, then turned the knob. I don't have anything that might go into it other than water, and the opening didn't smell like water, so... damn. I have no idea what I'm doing. Oh well.

There's still the weird slit-shaped hole though. Slipping a claw into it and feeling at it, I can definitely tell it's meant to hold something and turn. Perhaps I can find something in his created-nest?

Getting up from the mover is pretty simple, though I stumble a bit because I tried standing on one leg and swinging the other around. Stabilizing myself with the handles, I learn from my mistake and carry on, this time moving toward the created-nest. Rather than the colorful one the male and female had, this one is a dull grey: the color of rock rather than flowers. It's pretty similar, just smaller. It has the same general shape and the same flap serving as an entrance.

Well... there is one major difference. It doesn't have a big rip in the back. Hehe. With a significantly less impressive entrance compared to the previous created-nest, I simply tug down the flap's sharp-rock protrusion and stick my face in.

The interior is about what I expected: sleeping pouch, head-rest, strange objects, bags like mine, and containers, many of them entirely new to me in design. Due to the created-nest being smaller I can only fit my front half within. Oh well, no lazing under shelter this time, but if things go to plan I won't be doing much lazing anyway. I may be in here for a while, so I make myself comfortable, parking my rear down outside and lowering my belly to rest on the ground. I'd rather not root through the created-nest all hunched over...

Time to start cracking open these containers. The hunter has another one of those sight-sound rectangles but I dismiss it immediately; I couldn't get it working before, I won't get it working this time either. Instead, I reach over to the corner where three green sharp-rock containers and some long and thin dark sharp-rock items are. Grabbing one of the containers in one foreclaw I drag it over, amazed by how heavy it is and how full it must be.

Popping the top off reveals very strange long, thin, and pointy objects that taper down towards the tip. All are made out of two tones of light-brown shining sharp-rock. I pick one up in two claws to look at, but drop it back inside after a cursory examination, unable to figure out what it is. The second one holds much the same as the first but the ones within are smaller and stubbier. The third is far lighter and contains objects very similar to those of the first box, but missing their tips. Hm.

Eh, whatever. I'll figure that out later. Clearly they're meant to hold something--what with the missing tips on some of them--but aside from the strange foreign scent on the empty ones they're of no value to my investigations.

The rest of the boxes are boring as well. Food, water, and some strange rolls of thin and fragile stuff in flimsy bags--another weird thing I'd seen in the previous created-nest. There's also a box of more of those fire-tamer cylinders, but I don't want to toy with them and risk breaking whatever they are. If they're used to make or perhaps even contain fire, it's probably not a good idea to screw around with it unless I know exactly how it will work or have the luxury to experiment.

What does catch my eye is a set of strange small bumpy created-claws upon a ring in a flimsy bag with a leather pouch as well. On the ring there are five of the created-claws, three being all one solid piece of sharp-rock, the other two having large pieces of not-wood attached to where I assume they would be held. However, they would be hard to grip as a weapon--all of them are too tiny and have nowhere to grab.

Opening the bag and hooking one claw through the ring which I bring to my face, the created-claws jangle as they come together at the bottom of their connector. The ring itself appears to be one looped piece of shining sharp-rock. The ring has an opening that someone with smaller and more dexterous digits than I could pry open to add and remove created-claws. I have no idea how this would work as a weapon, and frankly if it is one I'm surprised the hunter even left it here. A weapon is worthless if it isn't able to be used, let alone far from the fight.

So despite its appearance it must be a tool, like the one with the fire-tamer. Looking around in the created-nest and recalling the things within the containers I can't recall anything it could possibly be used with. Perhaps the fire-tamer? I don't remember seeing anything that it could...

Hold on.

...That it could be used with.

It reminds me of both the tools he used for eating and the created-claw for cutting apart his kills, but it's far too small and bumpy for either. There is one thing that I can think of though, and it's the mover.

Excited, I shimmy my way out of the created-nest, ring of not-created-claws hooked on my claw still, and trot over to the mover. The hole. The strange long and thin slit-shaped hole, and the strange long and thin slit-shaped tools. This cannot be a coincidence!

Scrambling onto the mover I sit up with the tools and lower the ring to the hole. One by one I attempt to insert them into the hole, none fitting until the fourth: one of the two with the not-wood. Nothing happens at first, but the sharp-rock around the hole slightly depresses so I push a bit more, as far as it will go. I twist it a bit as I had to do with the opening knob and suddenly, the mover sputters and roars to life!

YES! SUCCESS!

Shaking beneath me, I can feel the warmth of the device as it wakes up from its dormancy. The mover my sister stole was already active; perhaps the reason why it stopped working was because it needed to be dormant? Because it ran out of whatever it needed to work, much like a starved animal?

Okay. First things first, the sticks on the handles. Squeezing them, nothing beyond the slight tensing of the vehicle occurs when I squeeze and release. The handlebar shift a little when I do, revealing to me that they aren't solidly attached and can be twisted. I turn them, and the circles holding the creation up turn, which must be how you direct it where to go. As for making it move, I could fiddle with the knobs, but I need to be smart about this.

If I was a tall intruder and I wanted to control this thing, what would I do? Presumably it already has whatever it needs within, so why isn't it moving?

Oh. Right. There's one more thing to check.

Bringing my hindclaw back, I settle it on the protruding stick below me. Putting pressure on it, the mOVER SUDDENLY LURCHES INTO ACTION!

Nearing falling back off of it I lean forward over the front to correct, looking up in time to see the surface and fire-tamer zipping by only half a leg's length away. Crap! Now what?

The mover gains speed over the muddy ground faster and faster, brown blotches visible to my night eyes as mud sprays behind me, likely drenching the sharp-rock surface. The trees on the opposite end of the clearing are getting closer and closer--I need to stop this thing!

Squeezing the sticks on the handle the mover locks up and roars louder as it begins to slide, but due to a large rock half-buried in the mud I'm too busy flipping head-over-hindclaws to consider the implications of this.

OW. Shit.

At least I didn't hit a tree...

Pinned under the mover in a puddle of mud, I consider that I may have been leaning a bit too far forward to compensate for my size and weight. I'm going to need to find a stream to wash off all of this mud later.

For now, I shift and roll the mover off of my back and get my bearings. Thanks to my carapace and size I'm uninjured, and glancing over to the mover still chugging away, it doesn't seem damaged either.

I remove the tool from its slot inversely to how I inserted it, and the mover goes dormant once more. My sister didn't know that they needed to go dormant and needed something to make it work, so she must have just left it running and it ran out of whatever it needed. It's best that I turn it off. I'm just going to leave it on its side though, I don't see much reason to flip it back over.

Well then. With that fiasco over with, it's back to the created-nest to look at the things I didn't get a chance to inspect yet. I return the ring with the mover's key--now muddied by my claws--to the bag and take out the leather pouch instead. Within are strange thin rectangular not-wood items, one grey with many symbols on it and a line across its back, the other an image of the hunter's face with yet more symbols.

Now this is interesting. Perhaps tall intruders are better able to create images than Kin due to their smaller and more precise fingers; it looks pretty accurate from what I've seen of him.

Kin don't really make images much. Just meaningless scratches in the dirt, mud, or stone and crude images of animals and Kin. The image isn't scratched out, it's totally flat. I've heard of Kin rubbing things onto stone before to make images but you would need to be extremely precise to make something like this.

Stuffing it and a bit of accidental mud back into the bag, I move on to another new thing: a bag of rectangles that are as disappointing as the sight-sound ones. These have varyingly colorful covers with symbols, and within are many thin pieces of something that feels organic all completely covered in the symbols. Boring. Perhaps they hold meaning, but I may need to get the soon-to-be-mine hunter tall intruder to teach me how to use it.

Backing out for the second time I inspect the smear of mud across the tall intruder's sleeping pouch from my belly.

Ah. Whoops.

He won't mind, right?

Eh. Whatever. I suppose I'd better get this mud cleaned off of myself.

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A/N:

The ATV scene was a fun one to visualize. The still as-of-yet unnamed protagonist gets to learn new things once more, and look hilarious doing it. As pointed out by a friend of mine who's reading the chapters as I finish them, the hunter forgot to shut the camping stove's fuel canister valve. That was actually my mistake: I forgot about that. I'm not going back and changing it because the hunter being a little bit careless fits better, especially with leaving his ATV's parking brake disengaged.

Which is totally not because I forgot how ATV parking brakes work. It's been over a decade since I last drove one and I don't remember the exact functioning of it.

Full disclosure, this scene does not portray how to start an ATV. It doesn't even portray the controls right, this is closer to how you start a car instead. It's a lot more complicated than this for an ATV, but I'm too lazy to go and learn how in order to adapt the chapter. I'm taking a huge creative liberty here that I'm generally not a fan of, but sometimes you just have to write what is believable, not what is real. This is ultimately a science fiction story, after all.