Challenge #02275-F085: To Share Caring
An Alien crew of Havenworlders tries to help their security-officer (a Human) to cope with PTSD-Flashbacks, Anxiety and Panic-Attacks. – Anon Guest
The ship’s Human had been sedated after the Upset. They lay now in the darkened recovery room with gently glowing screens displaying the words, You are safe, in the Human’s home tongue. They would wake, eventually, but the trepidation amongst the Leseu crew was - what had happened to their Human?
Pack-bonding can happen in both directions.
Doctor Slysse faced a group of concerned, reptilian faces. “Human Hen is sleeping for now. Having consulted the reference material, I… I have to give the diagnosis of post-traumatic stress.”
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Challenge #02274-F084: They Look Like Monsters
Humans meet an intelligent species who is nice, friendly, understanding and honest to a fault. A human vessel breaks down and they send the distress call to Help.
The Problem is, they look Like a horror movie Monster. Something that looks somewhat human but mangled, discolored, and just… wrong in all planes of existence. Not to forget their teeth, claws,etc.
They have the smell of rotting meat, decay and blood, when they are happy and they move through the vents for easy access.
How will the Humans cope with helpful Monsters and their Overall nice Attitude? – Anon Guest
It sounded like the plot to every horror movie that Terrans had ever made since the invention of fake blood. A spaceship crew stranded AU’s from anywhere. Failing power, failing life support. Dwindling food supplies, and so forth. Stress upon stress with no hope of rescue. Until the Karmorp'se came to the rescue.
The first sign of contact was the docking clamps engaging with someone else’s tube. Then came a flood of fresh air that was a blessing to all those survivors grimly clinging to their decor pot plants. Communication came next, first through simple pictograms, then via equally simple words. The greatest relief came with the knowledge that both parties spoke GalStand Simple.
The Karmorp'se were friendly and genial, they had an abundance of compatible supplies, which they eagerly shared through loading apparatus normally meant for Station docking. They were honest about everything and even managed to share a few jokes. They were eminently loveable and their voices sounded warm, sweet, and friendly. Eventually, suspicion raised concerning the lack of face-to-face communication.
[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 steemit (dot) com (slash at) internutter for the stories at their freshest]
Challenge #02274-F084: They Look Like Monsters
It sounded like the plot to every horror movie that Terrans had ever made since the invention of fake blood. A spaceship crew stranded AU’s from anywhere. Failing power, failing life support. Dwindling food supplies, and so forth. Stress upon stress with no hope of rescue. Until the Karmorp'se came to the rescue.
The first sign of contact was the docking clamps engaging with someone else’s tube. Then came a flood of fresh air that was a blessing to all those survivors grimly clinging to their decor pot plants. Communication came next, first through simple pictograms, then via equally simple words. The greatest relief came with the knowledge that both parties spoke GalStand Simple.
The Karmorp'se were friendly and genial, they had an abundance of compatible supplies, which they eagerly shared through loading apparatus normally meant for Station docking. They were honest about everything and even managed to share a few jokes. They were eminently loveable and their voices sounded warm, sweet, and friendly. Eventually, suspicion raised concerning the lack of face-to-face communication.
Challenge #02212-F022: Companion Ship
A human finally finds a crew member who understands their sarcasm. – Anon Guest
You have to be careful when you’re a human around non-humans. Not all of them understand intonation, and just use your words. Sarcasm may be lost on the slow of mind, but it’s also lost on those with different tonal coding to you. Worse - sometimes it’s both.
Helpful hint to other humans like me who keep using sarcasm out of habit. Always point out why the sarcastic suggestion is the worst idea in the world. That way you have a passing chance that they’ll realise you were mocking them. Also - resist the idea that they’re messing with you. Galactic Society has taught assorted cogniscents that pranks are counter-productive. We’re still learning about that if I want to be honest.
I thought my life was doomed to all of this until I met Hykko. They’re a Ceratopsid Saurian type and a complete nerd about Humans and they’ve actually made the effort to learn about things like intonation inflections, ablaut reduplication, and all the weird-ass things that Humans do without thinking about it, especially once we have a handle on the lingo. I might be a little bit in love because I’ve been returning the favour by learning about their peoples as much as I can. They get me. I want to get them.
[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for a link to the rest of this story, and details on how to support this artist]
Challenge #02034-E210: Incident During the Building of Antagulus IV — Steemit
Something, somewhere, was on fire. Aarblax could see the smoke curling through the air. This was, thankfully, a facility with a generous amount of atmosphere to share, so it wasn’t that worrying. Yet. The Public Address system was making bizarre, intermittent noises. This meant that someone had manually disabled the alerts and the system was attempting connections through the network. Which had also been disabled.
Aarblax glared at the two Humans in his crew, who immediately pointed at each other and chorused, “It’s their fault.”
“Fault can be assigned after the problem at hand,” he gestured at the curling smoke, the malfunctioning alerts, and the flickering screens that indicated that the system was down and out for the count, “has been thoroughly remedied. All I need to know is: how bad is it?”
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Challenge #02030-E206: But Not My Friend — Steemit
Flaax had expected to die. That was what happened when the Vorax attacked. People died. Civilisations ended. If one was lucky, wreckage containing last messages to loved ones could be found after the fact.
And then the Humans became part of the Galactic landscape, so to speak. They hunted the Vorax. They protected unarmed vessels from scout/raiders. They signed on as crewmembers in the Edge Territories. And they were shockingly effective. Like this one, who had just bullied Flaax into living again. This, despite knowing next to nothing of Medik procedures.
“Taking lazy hour,” said Human Juff in GalStand Simple. She was draping a warming blanket over Flaax and setting it to optimal temperature maintenance mode. “Self giving adrenaline. You being much shaking for big time.”
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Challenge #02027-E203: Waifs and Strays — Steemit
Humans. Some were aggressive. Enough to make Havenworlders like the Graacil extremely cautious about encounters with all of them. It didn’t matter that not all Humans were like that. What mattered was that enough were like that that it made the Graacil extremely cautious.
Forx'gn briefly pondered the likelyhood of a pleasant outcome from sending a message home that read, The Princess is safe, but also in grave danger. It would not fly well. They would have to wait for field reports until such time as he had something clear to report.
Logic, though it was always a means of being wrong with authority, could help them. One: The Human was clearly in protector mode with the Princess Grigri. Two: communication would be limited to unmistakable action or plausibly confusing pantomime. If they could manage a way to be understood… Three: both sides had their face plates obfuscated for space travel. Reading expressions was right out.
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Challenge #01779-D318: Pack Bonding in all the Wrong Places
Despite the fact that the Numidids are… well, fictional, I have quite a fondness for the little guys. It’s funny how our ‘pack-bonding instinct’ can go pretty much anywhere. – TheDragonsFlame
There was a shrine set up in the Avenue of Remembrance. For a fictional character. Fanart adorned it, and no two agreed on what the character looked like. The little altar also spilled over with flowers, soft toys, and votary candles. Someone hung a banner that read, Always an asshole. Forever missed.
Shayde was leaving a bottle of alcohol. And a single, long-stem red rose.
“I do not understand this outpouring of mourning for a person who isn’t even real,” Rael said, and had to ignore the dozens of hairy eyeballs that swung around for the surrounding humans to glare at him with.