Dragon of the Ocean {Quarter-Fiction}

Underwater 'charge' (with a dragon) comprises this Alien-media adaptation of the non-prawn kind.

Alien adaptation. 

DISCLAIMER: This work of fanfiction/adaptation contains images/references with no ties to any representative person(s)/body (e.g., Scripps Institute of Oceanography) and is therefore cast as purely a 'personal' expression for social arts (for 'open' views/critique). 

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It was in a special Cali oceanography institute where my two patriot-pals and I had found special bound-Rationalism for a deep-waters dive and fortress for research pre-contact with a dragon, an alien 'resident-artist' of Earth-realm, which we called the Xenomorph (Facebook-like!).

We'd been operating out of that Western/Pacific oceanography institute, praising all the unified American Homeland work with ocean-life for organic-science understanding or IQ in this new time of Earth 'troubles' like eco-pollution and climate-change of undesirable liberal quality (ha). We had no idea our underwater research station would involve engagement with a leviathan (Facebook-like?).

We had to design special electrocutioner-weaponry, glowing light guns with the ground underwater ability to send electric shock-waves to our dragons, these 'resident-artists' (Xenomorphs), of insect-reptilian raptor like visage and claws and bad malice who simply sought self-exile sovereignty status and left-alone leviathans of the Earth-water, veiled somewhat by the presence of other un-cute underwater (ocean-abyss) cryptids like the Giant Squid/Shark but requiring (as explained) an electric-energy wonderwall choice (Facebook-like!).

ALIEN: We see you see us, in this water-study for Hell, heroes.

OCEAN DIVE TEAM (Me and my 2-pals): You're aliens seeking sovereign-distance?

ALIEN: We see your electric message concerns reciprocal knowledge of farness!

OCEAN DIVE TEAM: We keep you secret, keep you veiled with the Giant Squid?

ALIEN: It's a stalemate accord; and it's all you can afford for Earthling-sanity.

OCEAN DIVE TEAM: If we don't respond to this accord-charge, you threaten Earth.

ALIEN: You guessed like science-soldiers; we'd plant chest-bursters for murder!
OCEAN DIVE TEAM: Well, this electric-field farness operative is (all) chandelier.

ALIEN: Farewell (Selfie-like).

We achieved a compact miracle with these Earth residing dragons of the ocean, these Xenomorphs of incredible malice if not simply nihilistic distance-preference(s) for darkness and havens (wow). We would keep distance, simply because the Xeno-aliens were too rapid and quick and adaptive not to manage terrestrial crawling for invasion/colonization...and as they stated, bloody-murder. I knew if we didn't respond/change perfectly precisely, they'd give us Earthlings heart attacks for the Ego (damn). This wasn't (all) simple food-for-fiction.

COUNCIL (Earth): Moby Dick fair?

ME: I just want wings for Xmas and Super Bowl TV.

COUNCIL (Earth): You know the Melville tale of bad obsession/focus (a giant)?

ME: Those Xenomorphs down in our Western ocean abyss are distance-diplomats.

COUNCIL (Earth): Failure(s) of reciprocity-shape yield invasion of heart-attacks.

ME: You said it (right); this is no tale of school but one of water's qualia.

COUNCIL (Earth): Well, off to Super Bowl TV you go then...for chips.

ME: Love them Seahawks (thanx)...Selfie-like.

I felt like a scientist but also a soldier and an exorcist. This was space-distance affordance quality for Earthling intelligence for purified salvation (wow). Those Xeno-aliens are still down there, in our deep-ocean abyss, with their afforded compact IQ sovereign-space for forever-thermals; and I take walks down the stairs of that area by the West/Pacific, where I take for granted what makes overground life/TV simply one of leviathan-qualia (for the Ego).

GIRLFRIEND: Good Saint Patrick's Day in a hotel-lounge for Irish-TV.

ME: Faraway from the dragon of the ocean, darling Esmerelda (thanx).

GIRLFRIEND: Do you still believe in the Tooth-Fairy, hon?

ME: I do now more now than ever (Facebook-like!).

Now, I'm working on a Pulitzer-caliber?) novel or comic-art concept (Beneath Ocean's Quark); I consider myself a new age Jacques Cousteau or Rambo or something. The dragons of the ocean of Earth have labeled us (all!) messengers of what's Earth's supreme charge...incomplete-distances readings to the raw darkness of chandeliers for the faces of residents (Selfie-like).

"Doing well is the result of doing good. That's what capitalism is all about" (Ralph Waldo Emerson). 

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)