HomeAskArchiveBuy my stuffBaby forumMy Hub Site Submit a prompt Support me on Patreon Medium Website What is Amalgam Universe? Buy me a Ko-fi Steem Theme

Challenge #02783-G226: Untranslatable | PeakD

Reblog

Challenge #02782-G225: Under Starry Skies

This is a prompt that’s actually a mix of 3 stories, the one of the super-soldiers, the one of the dream berries, and the one of the seed collector. Here are the prompts for reference.

https://peakd.com/fiction/@internutter/challenge-02677-g120-a-mind-of-their-own

https://peakd.com/fiction/@internutter/challenge-02509-f319-berry-small-problem

https://steemit.com/fiction/@internutter/challenge-02525-f335-useful-obsession

The person had collected more seeds than any human ever had before. It was their hobby, it was their obsession, and with it they had saved many lives from preventing mass-starvation due to crop losses. An elderly havenworlder who had been obscenely wealthy had no family left, but had always admired this human, so while most of their wealth went to charities, they granted the human a boon. They, in their will, left the human an uninhabited planet. It was a havenworld, though only level one or two at best. The plantings from Rushes-o Station could be expanded to this world.

Unfortunately, there were those that did not like this idea, especially when they found that dream-berries, along with other such plants, were going to be amongst the plantings. But another group had heard of the grumbling. Another group who knew what it was to have their backs against the wall. They had been created for war, and were learning to live in peace. The had no desire to be living aboard ships, but a chance to living on a beautiful world amongst growing crops? And yet still allow their skills to be needed to protect that world from those that would ravage it? It sounded like a near paradise to them.

This was a paradise world where people could buy seeds from the collector to save their worlds, or to start collections for their own. A place where medics could buy dream-berries and other medicinal crops to help those in need, and a place known to be well-guarded by soldiers who wanted to live in peace, but were designed at the very genetic level for war. It was a wonderful place to live. – Anon Guest

The Arcas didn’t do very well in indoor spaces. They therefore did not like space travel. Once settled in their appointed planet, they said, they intended to stay. Which was what lead, in a roundabout fashion, to The Deal.

Rushes-o Station was too big, and at the same time, too small to contain Human Liam’s enormous collection of flora. Further, they were now wealthy enough to purchase and maintain their own planet. A nice safe nigh-Havenworld in a goldilocks zone with plenty of easy-access minerals. All Human Liam needed was someone to guard it.

Liam, chief supplier of the Dreamjuice that kept the Arcas at least calm for transit, had a great need of a protecting force to stop various polities from stealing or destroying any of the plants kept there. The existence of the plants necessitated biological maintenance in the form of insects and avians. There would be very little room for shelter that was not focussed on plant maintenance. Liam needed a special kind of force for that.

The Arcas were few, but they were effective. As far as being a deterrent force was concerned, they were fast, motivated, and brutally efficient. They had also spent twenty minutes at the landing site just staring at the sky and the creatures within it.

[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for a link to the rest of this story, and details on how to support this artist. Or visit peakd (dot) com (slash at) internutter for the stories at their freshest]

Reblog

Challenge #02782-G225: Under Starry Skies | PeakD

Reblog

Challenge #02779-G222: And There Was Only One Bed

Archivist finds a Treasure Trove in a Library’s donation of ‘source material, just old papers’. Stored in time seal conditions. Just one problem to the end of all their funding problems it was all hand written. – Anon Guest

It was a sealed box in one of the Pre-Shattering Permaplastics. Someone had scrawled, “rando papers” in permanent marker across the lid. Scanners indicated that it was still hermetically sealed. This required care and attention to detail.

Good thing the Archivaas were an order of information-obsessed weirdos for whom that was a normal Twosday night. Sealed room with clever air pressure modifications to keep any ancient pathogens in, check. Also heavily sealed livesuit with touch-reaction gloves, check. Every possible means of recording the unboxing at every angle including the helm and eyecam, check. An entire team of fellow nerdy historians looking on and prepared to commentate the proceedings. Of course, because these were like-minded nerds, they were also prepared to give opinions that nobody asked for.

This was a treasure chest of incalculable historical value. Priceless to the right people. Worthless to the wrong ones. The Archivaas could not think otherwise, since Terran history had lost vast chunks of its records via colonisation waves known as The Shattering. The fight to get even the smallest fragment of it back was known by Archivaas everywhere. That said, they were a cult so magnificently obsessed with their own mission that even other Humans called them insane.

[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for a link to the rest of this story, and details on how to support this artist. Or visit peakd (dot) com (slash at) internutter for the stories at their freshest]

Reblog

Challenge #02779-G222: And There Was Only One Bed | PeakD

Reblog

Challenge #02777-G220: Signal to Noise

Chuckled “I sense death behind us”

The moment the human said that some ordinance were detonated behind us, and a Vicious growl to our south – Anon Guest

Human methods of memetic communication leave much to be desired. One has to know a certain volume of Terran art forms, especially popular Terran art forms, in order to understand what a memetic Human is attempting to communicate.

In this example, a stylised Human is sitting in a means of public transit and giggling about being in mortal peril. There is no further context. Humans have been known to fake a chuckle and say the phrase in a creepy falsetto. Usually, this happens before something explodes. Usually, the something explodes because of something the Human arranged beforehand.

Strangely, this phrase has never been any given Humans’ last words. Statistically speaking, most Humans’ last words are similar to, “They can’t possibly hit us at this ran–”

[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for a link to the rest of this story, and details on how to support this artist. Or visit peakd (dot) com (slash at) internutter for the stories at their freshest]

Reblog

Challenge #02777-G220: Signal to Noise | PeakD

Reblog

Challenge #02775-G218: Waste Not

[Level 2 Deathworlder] I don’t know how you can be so relaxed about this human. This is an unknown planet and, save for a few starvation rations and potable water, we’ve no supplies left. All of the prey is too fast to catch, and you are obviously starting to look worse. HOW can you be so calm when all you’re doing is banging rocks together, scraping sticks, and weaving those disgusting plants skin together?

[Human] Yes so I’ve lost some kilos, but I now have everything we need. Sure the plants are useless to eat, containing absolutely no nutrition, but they burn, don’t they?

[L2 Deathworlder] Yeah we’re warm and have shelter, but we have no more food.

[Human] –holds up several pieces of very sharp stone arrowheads, wooden shafts, and woven bark netting– Not for long, my friend, oh, trust me, not for long. – DaniAndShali

Humans are relentless. Fyorq got to see it in person. Stranded on a world they were initially there to scout. The good news - they had shelter and a decent scanner. The bad news was that they were running out of edible foodstuffs. At their most-uncomfortable survival situation, they would still perish of starvation.

None of that seemed to stop Human Fil. Ze had, upon landing and verifying the nutritional content of the plant life, started messing about with rocks, sticks, and plant fibres. Ze had also immediately began living on as little as ze could whilst doing so. Humans like Fil were capable of doing survival math and arriving to conclusions that it would take Havenworlders months to arrive at without help.

In such cases, it’s always best to watch what the Deathworlders are doing, and then at least lend a hand. This resulted in Fyorq endlessly plaiting lengths of rubbery leaf strips sheared from some marginally nutritious fruiting body. The fruits took more calories to render edible than they delivered and the extensions they allegedly made to their diet made Fyorq wish that their molecular dissassembler and printer wasn’t damaged beyond repair.

[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for a link to the rest of this story, and details on how to support this artist. Or visit peakd (dot) com (slash at) internutter for the stories at their freshest]

Reblog

Challenge #02775-G218: Waste Not | PeakD

Reblog

Challenge #02773-G216: Vent Words

(Unabashedly based on my grandmother and her go to “curse word”)

H - “Crab apples, pineapples, and sauerkraut!”

A - “… I think my translator is broken. I got an offensensitivity warning on what you just said, but I think you just listed foods?”

H - “You shouldn’t curse… It is rude.” – SilverRey

Humans are bizarre. This is acknowledged. Some Humans just happen to be more bizarre than others. For example: Most cogniscent species acknowledge the need for stresser/expressive words to articulate anger, frustration, or otherwise vent the stronger emotions in a safer manner than destruction of self, property, or others.

It is also known that some Humans find such expressive words beyond rude to repeat. The alternative expressions have become… inventive.

“Oh, cucumbers!” Human Jone shouted following a loud clang. “Radish rutabaga pie! Baby hippos!”

[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for a link to the rest of this story, and details on how to support this artist. Or visit peakd (dot) com (slash at) internutter for the stories at their freshest]

Reblog