Challenge #02594-G037: And a Macaroni Necklace
He owned, of all things, a trash planet. How did he manage to own an entire planet? Well, when you have an IQ that puts nearly all of the rest of the human race to shame, it’s not hard to figure out how to get ownership of such a thing. Besides, no one argued much when he won the bet and requested a trash planet in a rather out-of-the-way area of space as his reward. And, with it, he was able to tinker to his heart’s content with a nearly inexhaustible supply of parts. He had been 18 then, and now at 25, his newest project was almost completed.
The ship was odd, to be sure. Made of dozens of parts from several various races, but it worked perfectly. Strong engines, improvised defensive weaponry, and the inside was almost as luxurious as an expensive passenger liner. But he did not build it for himself. His ship towed the odd-looking vessel from the planet and he headed toward the planet where his close friends lived. The “dinos” as he called them had not only saved his life, but had been there when he was young and had no one else to turn to. Especially one family in particular. This gift, one of love, gratitude, and admiration, was for them. – Anon Guest
One man’s trash is another man’s treasure – Ancient Human saying.
Never bet Doughnuts to Planets with a Human – A far more modern saying.
Jun had been eighteen when he won the trash planet. The generous dinos -who had more or less raised him from a feral stowaway they’d found in their hold- made sure he had adequate nutrition, shelter, and company whilst he tinkered with everything left on the trashworld. He’d named it New Workshop. It was everything it said on the tin.
Jun’s first invention was a series of seekerbots that went out and found the essential elements. The second, after a small array of programming mishaps, was a set of seekerbots that sought out potentially active technology first. That cut down significantly on the “new craters per Standard Week” statistics.
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Challenge #02593-G036: Safe As…
True friendship is letting a small havenworlder ride around in a pouch that you’re wearing so they feel secure surrounded by the other deathworlders that they wanted to do business with in the first place. Seriously. Why do you do this to me? – Escla
Size is something interesting within the boundaries of Galactic Alliance space. Intelligent life can take very many forms, depending on the gravity they evolved in. There are some, like the Xyrak'l, that have shown signs of intelligent behaviour, yet exist in a gigantic grey zone to everyone attempting communication with them.
Most life exists in and around one Standard Gravity[1]. In that, there are certain forms that occur for cogniscent lifeforms. The anthropoid form tends to predominate with some… peculiar modifications on the central model. Evolution only has so much to work with. You can find cogniscents in the one-gravity realm in sizes between that of a terrier, and that of a bear. Which lead to some… interesting solutions for communication and social mingling.
Consider… the Buddy Livesuit. A larger cogniscent carrying -on their chest or over their back- a smaller one in a reinforced pod or bubble. A larger cogniscent - usually a friendly Deathworlder - carrying their smaller Havenworlder friend around for trade negotiations and sometimes simple transport. Human Engineering, so you know it’s tough[2].
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Challenge #02592-G035: Critical Flaw Located
A: explain to me why again you were fighting?
B: I was getting rusty, I needed someone to spar with.
A: was it necessary to create a hole in the floor?
B: you said it was reinforced! – Anon Guest
Human Sym was embedded in the flooring. Her legs were technically within the floor below, but also tangled up in sensitive, very important, and also more than a little delicate - wiring and equipment. Human Per, her sparring partner, was crouching and blushing nearby.
“We were cleared for recreational simulated combat exercises in this space,” she said. “We didn’t know a flying leap would have this effect.”
“It’s the weighted anklets and bracelets, I’m sure,” said Human Per. “The floors are cleared for us jumping about and wearing livesuits for that, but not powerful actions with extra weight load. Combo of errors on both sides.”
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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 #02590-G033: Let’s Pretend For a While
There are people who will shout from wherever they can find to shout from that autism isn’t a disability. That it should be celebrated. And I have to wonder if those people have ever found themselves so upset they couldn’t talk, so frustrated that they couldn’t control where their hands went, movements jerky, not even able to prepare a hot breakfast out of the knowledge that they’d burn themselves accidentally if they didn’t calm down first. If that’s ever happened to them five days out of seven for a month or two. Do they know that floating feeling that comes of too much rage too fast and holding back a meltdown until they’re AWAY from everyone? Of having to shove a note into their partner’s face to watch the kids while they go to a quiet room to be alone so they can cry undisturbed until their emotions are back to something manageable and words make sense again?
Funny thing is, even with all of that and more, I’m still “high functioning”. So, tell me again how I’m not disabled. – Anon Guest
[AN: Speaking as a “mostly functioning” Autiste, I know the cure for all of these is more education about how to help the Autiste in question.]
When you break down how people talk about a perceived affliction, you get more of an education about it. Disability - from ‘dis’ - a prefix implying a lack or a broken state of the latter half, 'ability’. The lack of an ability, or a broken state of ability. High or low function. Function, the capability of an item being useful in some way to intelligent beings around it.
True evil begins when you treat people like things, wrote a philosopher of Human nature. He was right, of course. When people talk of other people in terms of their 'use’, their 'usefulness’, how they could be of profit… those people who are talked about become like things. They are no longer people.
When you treat people like things, those people get angry. It’s perfectly natural. Stresses not even given to a “normal”[1] person build up, like drops of water into a pool. Some can handle more. Many handle less. Ridicule, mockery, and other micro-aggressions build up alongside the more “normal” stresses until complete collapse becomes an inevitability.
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