Challenge #02723-G166: Just Add Zombies
This prompt issues to an earlier story from two years ago. https://steemit.com/fiction/@internutter/challenge-01928-e104-tag-you-re-undead. One that gave me a wicked little grin, though I did have to search a bit to find it again.
Zombie tag. That was a game, and an experiment, that was both famous and infamous. Since its inception a few years ago, it had become a wildly popular thing that became a new sport. How long could teams last against the “zombies”? Rules were drawn up, people could “defend” themselves against “zombies” with soft, fake “weapons” that, at worst, might give a level 4 havenworlder a slight bruise and, frankly, other than blotting a little ink on someone, nothing more. If the blot was on the head, the “zombie” was out. If you were tagged, you either “died”, or became a “zombie”.
But when the lights go down, the environment gets creepy, and the recording of frightening groans begins as the “zombies” are let loose on the “uninfected”, the championship teams for that year were in for a bit of a surprise. Every year there was an odd twist for the championship, but this one? A messed up version of the human anthem, enough to keep anyone on their toes. How long would the teams last, and who would the champion be this year? – DaniAndShali
Inexplicably, the Havenworlders loved it. Simulated danger without any actual danger. The rules were clear, and the options were multiple. When the Humans added Nerf Weapons and paintballs to the shenanigans. To make a bad pun worse, the nerf weapons were a hit. The paintballs were sponge, and softer than the projectiles Humans used for their paintball-oriented simulated combat. They would be felt, but they would not cause injuries hazardous to Havenworlders.
One hit to the head or five hits to the body could ‘kill’ a 'zombie’, other players could fortify, hide, or attack 'zombies’. Play only occurred within the arena, and safe spaces were non-combat zones. Non-zombies who 'died’ from a zombie could choose whether or not they became 'zombies’ and therefore joined the zombie horde.
It was a game that gave Havenworlders a chance to wail on Deathworlders and win, even if it was simulated battle, it did immense good to both Havenworlder confidence and epigenetic drift towards hardier makeup. That, and there’s nothing like almost unrestrained chaos to create a good time for all.
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Challenge #02600-G043: Trying to Learn
Humans are deathworlders, but anyone who says that we are and have always been apex predators is, well, wrong. – Anon Guest
History is written by the victors. Ancient history is written by those who wish to justify their own cruelties. – Adapted Terran saying.
Culture and education is an interesting synergy. The way things are seem to be the way they are always meant to be according to Nature, as evidenced by what is found in ancient history. The cruelties of serfdom or slavery, when not verified by the workings of the preferred deity, are justified in the anthill. The harshness of the dawning of the Industrial Age is verified by the pacing animals in the zoos, the fossil evidence of hunting tools, and Nature Red in Tooth and Claw.
The harshness created by capitalism uses the same ideals. Regardless of the truth, which has remained the same despite how the evidence is interpreted. Nature has always been cruel, they say. Therefore there is no reason why we should ever stop. They ignore evidence to the contrary because it is inconvenient. As in, inconvenient for what they wish to happen in their favour.
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Challenge #02598-G041: A Lasting Reminder
There was this one abandoned space station where humans liked to paint graffitis and do other illegal stuff. When authorities find out they started to patrolling this place. After months of punishments, fines and even prison owners finally rebuild whole place and even let humans paint on special walls. It was this moment when illegal started to be legal. The very next day there was giant graffiti inside the biggest and most secured space station in the whole galaxy. – Anon Guest
If you build it, a Human has already written something on it. – Edge Territory saying.
Though it is widely accepted that literacy is one of the essential steps towards civilisation in general, and space-travelling in particular, it’s the Humans who’ve made a big deal out of leaving their mark. No structure is so remote, too neglected, or too risky to both visit and write upon.
It’s so endemic to the species that the rest of Galactic Society has surrendered in the form of Designated Graffiti Walls. None of which existed on Nonesuch Station. For the matter, neither did other things like air, power, intelligent life, or any kind of safety whatsoever when visiting the site. Nevertheless, Humans came, they saw, they scribbled.
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Challenge #02591-G034: Conspiracy to Spread Joy
There are those that are not fans of the holiday season. The reasons are as myriad as the individuals themselves. But then there are those who not only enjoy the seasons, but absolutely revel in them. All around the station they were showing up outside of doors. Showing up at people’s workstations and amongst ship supplies. Carefully wrapped gifts. It only had three words on it “From a friend”
No one claimed responsibility for these actions and no one was usually around by the time they were found, but when the gifts were opened, they would be gifts appropriate to, and for, the individual the gifts were meant to be for. They were safe, they were lovely, and each item was always carefully settled in their gift boxes by a hand that obviously cared a great deal.
And yet, for some odd reason, surveillance could never find out who was doing this. On occasion one might catch a shadowy form, they obviously knew their way around enough to avoid getting caught, but that was all. And, through the month of what humans called “December”, through the month that was the holiday of gift-giving, this continued. And the gift giver? Each time they heard of people discussing the gifts, they smiled softly to themselves as they went about their work. Why did they do it? No reason, it just felt good to make people smile. – Anon Guest
Space, as a philosopher once wrote, is big. Really, really big. In the gulfs of darkness, the only spots of civilisation are the ones you bring with you. Nevertheless, it is there. Far from home, you bring home with you. Far from love, you share love with those you happen to be with. Well. That’s the Human philosophy.
Human pack-bonding is weird like that. Which the crew of the Twitching Whisker found out during a period of three Standard weeks[1]. They didn’t precisely know it was one of the Humans, but this particular level of chicanery fit almost exactly with other Human nonsense, so the odds were high.
The whole thing started with a box. Just a box, wrapped in bright coloured paper, and the whole thing was topped with a bow. This was immediately treated with suspicion. It had been left just outside of G'harth’s door and the Vrothiin was uncertain of what to do about, or with it. This was not the usual season for Human Pranking, and the calendar showed no other nearby events of significance in the Offensensitivity calendar.
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Challenge #02560-G003: Human NO!
A: A Dyson sphere just millions of solar panels covering a star
B: But why do we need that much energy?
A: To make a black hole bomb
B: WAIT NO
https://youtu.be/ulCdoCfw-bY – Anon Guest
Ever since Nikola Tesla accidentally invented radio[1], Humanity has been obsessed with transmitting energy without using some form of wire between points A and B. The instant they had the means, they switched to becoming obsessed with gathering as much energy as possible. Most species were sated with enough to deal with every obstacle, but Humanity loved having more.
Deathworlders tend to be instinctually in need of having enough to deal with every possible misfortune and at minimum two of the impossible ones at the same time. Most roll their eyes, muttering about Deathworlder contingency plans under their collective breaths. Some rare few dare to ask questions.
The star the Humans were building around had no planets, so logically there was no reason to be building there. It was far from the usual shipping lanes. Yet the Humans were installing top-of-the-line solar panelling at a safe distance from the surface of the star. What separated this stellar body from literally millions of others like it was that it was a slow-burning star with a lifetime measured in billions of eons. It was only natural that curiosity won out over caution.
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