Challenge #01997-E173: With Understanding — Steemit
Havenworlders amble gently into cogniscence and cautiously dip their toes into space travel. They are, by nature, the species most likely to have millennia-stable civilisations that expand slowly and graciously into the universe. And they are also, understandably, the most likely to be absolutely _terrified_ of any species tougher than them.
Herbivorous civilisations are more likely to come from Havenworlds. Deathworlder assumptions that only omnivores can properly become cogniscent are just that - assumptions. Havenworlders just take longer to progress towards cogniscence than they do. But, since they have an earlier start, both kinds often meet in the field. Which, as you might not guess, is disturbing to both sides of the encounter.
“It was a troll,” said Salvager Grisket in deadly seriousness. “Nine feet tall if it was an inch.”
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Challenge #01984-E160: All of Them? — Steemit
“No, no, Human Jan. You do not check that your weapons are operational. You check them in. For safety and safekeeping.”
“Right,” said Human Jan. “Nobody has weapons, nobody can harm anyone. That’s the theory, right?”
“That is the practice,” sighed Hothron. Humans may come in handy, but they tended to have difficulty with the more civilised areas of the Edge Territories. Fortunately, Human Jan had skipped over the illogical argument of, If nobody is allowed armaments, how am I meant to protect you from criminals?
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Challenge #01981-E157: One Educational Day on a Strange New World — Steemit
Edge Territory Planetary Survey, or ETPlaS for short, is one of those work forces one joins for the Hazard Pay. On the plus side, everyone doing EVA gets both a Guardian Human and a Human Bonus. Because the Humans are their own kind of dangerous. They’re Deathworlders, often describing their own planet as ‘space Australia’. And since they had a region on their own planet that was inherently hostile to life, they were a species to definitely not mess with.
Horx was uneasy with hir Human. They seemed indifferent at best and angry at worst. Their command of GalStand was crude and abrupt. If they could string more than ten words together, it was in one of the Human tongues they shared with the others on the mission. As far as communicating with Horx was concerned, a majority of it was tonal inflections around the ur-word, “Ay”.
Right now, Human Shaz was using it because they had spotted a fellow human. “AAAAAYYYY!”
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Challenge #01811-D350: Special Classification — Steemit
Human Steev had a pet, which was also Stiiv. It was a bird. A Terran parrot known as an African Grey for reasons that were clearly obvious. And, like most parrots, it was the devil incarnate.
Terran Parrots are officially classed as weapons of mass destruction for reasons that quickly become obvious the more time one actually spends in the presence of one. They gnaw at anything within range with their sharp, hard beaks and contain enough intelligence to think of the worst possible thing to do. They also contain enough mischief to go do it. Immediately.
Terrans who trust these malevolent dinosaurs on their shoulder are forces to be reckoned with. And Human Steev is one of the reasons why.
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Challenge #01359-C264: Oi Oi Oi
Humans and various aliens discover a new planet at the same time. One one side, the aliens are being blindsided by weather, earthquakes, volcanoes etc. On the other side the humans are having snowball fights, counting lightning strikes, geyser watching and bathing in the geothermal pools.
Details: http://deathcomes4u.tumblr.com/post/149643799993/humans-are-weird – Anon Guest
The crew of the Curious George had assigned the human to hauling the water cart. So far, the human had advised portable solar shelters in either wearable or carryable form. Hats or ‘brollies’ to those who preferred the Terran’s love of shorthand.
The human was in her Skins and painting her exposed skin with a colourful paste. Some resembled tribal markings, what with the stripes on her nose, cheekbones, and lower lip. Others were just swathes of colour without apparent logic.
“Zinc Oxide,” said the human. “Get some on your soft bits. Nobody wants a melanoma.”