Challenge #00392 - A027: Interspecies Relationships
“I think its cute how a human’s normal reaction to a loud noise is to make a loud noise back”
Love is many things, as a great writer once wrote, none of them logical.
This is true across the species, but with the humans? Only more so.
K'iiv had been holding the Noise back until his beloved mammal, Del, was fully awake and not holding anything hot or spill-able.
“I pretty much have to do the thing, beloved.”
“Bracing,” said Del.
Scree-ah!
“AIGH!” Pant pant pant. “Sorry.”
“I don’t mind,” soothed K'iiv. “I think its cute how a human’s normal reaction to a loud noise is to make a loud noise back.”
“You would.”
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Challenge #00391 - A026: Ride the Pony
It says something about us as a species that we can see the most badass creature in any given biome, the one that not even the top predators will go near, and decide “I am going to ride that.”
They should never have gone planet-side, no matter how much Hwell complained about ‘cabin fever’. And, once they went planet-side, they definitely didn’t have to go on a tour.
And they certainly should never have gone on a wilderness tour.
Chiefly because humans have one of three reactions to alien fauna: (1) touch it, (2) kill/eat it, or (3) ride it.
And the third was Hwell’s reaction to the creature even passing humans referred to as the Dreaded Bugblatta.
“Ooh, I wanna go on that one.”
“This is a spectator vessel, not an interactive experience,” droned Ax'and'l. “Besides, when it eats you, it doesn’t even need to chew.”
Hwell made a snorting noise. “Bet it’s a big softie when y’ treat it right.”
Ax'and'l knew better than to mock him, or supply inconvenient facts. What he did do was make a mental note to keep Hwell far, far away from any and all inebriants. And dose his beverages with detox, just in case.
And then all he had to do was get himself and Hwell safely off-planet before that damned crazy human did it anyway.
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Challenge #00390 - A025: Ferocious Flavour
Something about the other alien species and the sheer amounts of food that humans eat that would digest us alive if we didn’t digest them first. Maybe a human explaining why we want that legalised to be imported on to a space station (because nobody likes eating nothing but space bran flakes)
“Council will hear…” T'rev moaned. “The Human Coalition.”
“As secretary of the Human Coalition on this station, I receive numerous petitions and pleas to add some variety into station-side food.”
“Your nutritional needs are already met in full.”
“Yes,” and that was the sticking point. “We acknowledge this, but humans get bored. And you want to reduce the incidents of Silly Season. A human with more to interest them is a human less inclined to indulge in… erratic behaviour.”
“And you believe you can accomplish this with…” T'rev consulted the list, “Tomatoes,” the committee gasped, “Pineapples,” shrieks, “Carbonic acid[1],” the delegate for Kinsh'ar fainted, “And assorted fungal and bacterial fermented lactate products?” At least three of the still conscious committee members murmured in shock and awe.
“And many others, yes, honoured delegate. Your Nutri-Pak liquid meals are everything we need, this is true, but they are not everything we want. We want flavour. You call boredom a plague. Flavour would at least slow that down.”
“Many of these flavours are hazardous to other cogniscent species.”
“We’re willing to eat them in a sealed environment. Come on! We’re going crazy, here.”
“There is no call,” T'rev sniffed, “for threats.”
“It was a plea for mercy.”
Odd that the humans didn’t enjoy being insane too often. Especially considering that that was their base method of operations. “We will consider altering the rules to allow… variety. Within reason.”
“Thank you,” the human sighed. Numerous humans in the audience were high-fiving each other. Considering how vehemently the committee had blocked these aggressive ‘foods’ in the past, mere consideration was a great leap forward.
T'rev couldn’t help but wonder if they were making a huge mistake.
[1] That’s “carbonated water” to the less chemically-inclined.
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Challenge #00389 - A024: Killer Mutant Zombie Human
“You know, considering how resilient humans are most of the time it’s a bit surprising that their reproductive system is so unprotected, especially the males.”
*pained moaning from just offscreen*
This was beyond surreal. Sitting next to a human (well, technically human) and watching an ancient, speciesist movie with a human starring as the main antagonist. With the unbelievable knowledge that the human had instigated this.
He had asked why, but her answer made no sense. “Because it’s complete rubbish.” What in any of the named hells was that supposed to mean?
They were up to the last ten minutes of the feature. The ‘monster’, a saurian in an unconvincing rubber mutant zombie human suit, slowly advanced on the shrieking heroine.
“Tough guy rescue in five,” murmured Shayde, offering her popcorn. “Four. Three. Two…”
A member of the initial team, previously left for dead, entered the screen and drove the monster back. Then clobbered it in the crotch region with his bat.
“I thought the monster was female,” murmured Rael.
“Aye, that’s what makes it so funny,” she cackled.
The hero turned to the screen. “You know, considering how resilient humans are most of the time, it’s a bit surprising that their reproductive system is so unprotected.”
The credits rolled over footage of the monster writhing in the flames.
Shayde was almost causing herself physical injury from laughing so hard. Tears were rolling down her face as she almost desperately clung to her ribs.
“I still don’t understand how this is funny. It’s cheap, badly-produced, inconsistent, offensive, inaccurate, barely-scripted trash.”
“Aye, that’s the charm,” Shayde squeaked. She was still fighting giggles. “Pure schlock. It cannae be offensive 'cause it got everything so badly wrong…”
“It wasn’t that long ago that people believed this about your people.”
“That kinda makes it funnier.”
“Like children running away from you while screaming makes you laugh,” he said.
That shattered the mood faster than a vibra-hammer. Despite everything, there were some factions who viewed her as a monster and acted accordingly.
“Thanks for remindin’ me,” she iced. “I had been able tae ferget.” She wiped her face.
The drastic measure of the change made him want to fix it somehow. Tell her that everything would get better, anyway. But he was also compelled and paid to educate her. “You do see how that feature can be problematic.”
“Aye, I can. It’s just…” she fumbled for the right words, juggling invisible ones in front of her. “Willin’ suspension of offence, ye ken?”
He didn’t. “I’ve heard of willing suspension of disbelief…”
“Aye, this is somethin’ similar. Like… ye know it’s goin’ tae be offensive, so ye just enjoy everythin’ else. And sometimes, even the offensive bits.”
He shook his head and boggled at her. “Humans are crazy…”
She laughed anew. “I love ye too,” she teased.
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Challenge #00385 - A020: Best Frienemies
“Any lingering animosity between them vanished, replaced by a combined resolve to horribly embarrass their sons.!
"KNEEL, PUNY MORTALS!”
“Da-a-a-a-ad…”
“AVAUNT, MISCREANT!”
“Da-a-a-a-ad…”
Two sons shared a sympathetic look of mutual mortification as their parents started a war in the parking lot of their new grade school. Both wanted, but lacked the power, to dig themselves a foxhole in the tarmac and never come out again.
The rest of the playground was going crazy.
“It’s Captain Paragon!”
“And Maliciosa!”
“…nostoppitIwannadiiiiieeeee…” mumbled both sons in unison as they tried to hide inside their own hands.
Just another day at SuperPrep.
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Challenge #00384 - A019: Seriously?
“a particularly nasty paradox tangle involving one monstrous salamander, sixteen copies of a popular children’s book, and a length of lead pipe”
“No. I heard it was Kudzu, unrestrained cheese and a goldfish.”
“No way. It was mouldy bread, a pile of newsprint and a tribe of cusp-cogniscent mice.”
“I swear it was the one about the hippopotamus, the hedge and the piano.”
“I thought it was just a blockage in a waste management system that got out of hand.”
The semi-coherent argument ground to a halt. “Seriously?”
“Really, Toni?”
“That’s the one you go for?”
Toni stared blearily at the rest over the foam in the mug of intoxicant. “What? What’d I do?”
“Nobody knows how the Glunge really happened.”
“Yeah, we’re supposed to be coming up with wild theories.”
“Not Occam’s Razor.”
“Uhm…” Toni tried again. “Humans did it? With… a temporal paradox, a gengineered food plant… and… uh… an echidna.”
“DRINK!”
Lyr shook her head. Bar games amongst mining crews got weirder every year.
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Challenge #00383 - A018: Please Understand
“Darling, I love you, and I could never be scared of you. However some things you do will terrify me on a primal level, so please do not be offended that I practically teleport off the couch every time you do that scree-ah noise.”
“You mean this one?” Scree-ah!
“EEE!” Pant pant pant. “Yes. That’s the one. Gets me right in the primitive cortex.”
“Even with a warning?”
“Yes, sweetie. Even when I’m warned. It’s like that thing with my toes and you.”
“Eugh… toes. Yes. I am grateful for those little slippers.” He shuddered, making his feathers ruffle.
“And I would be grateful if you toned down the scree-ah when you know I’m around.”
“Silly Mammal…”
“Beautiful Dinosaur…”
They hugged.
“On the plus side, I know how to wake you up in an emergency.”
“Darling…”
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Challenge #00379 - A014: One Fine Afternoon Whilst Escorting the Ambassador From Jaarl
You probably already saw this but here’s another prompt for you:
http://cleromancy.tumblr.com/post/69788968504/something-i-think-about-a-lot-is-what-if-alien
[AN: No, I hadn’t seen it, but I’m running with the idea]
Not everyone meets the galactic confluence at a convenient time. And rather than rousing the ire of over thirty thousand assorted ambassadors just for an introduction, a new Ambassador is sent to go on a tour of the most important planets to know about.
And ever since Earth gained a two-way wormhole, that tour had to include the primary residence of the confluence’s most insane species.
Ambassador Rox of Jaarl examined the human who patiently stood in the centre of the room.
“You are circling like a predator,” said the human. “Humans find that disturbing. And I believe you have already been informed that sniffing is regarded as antisocial.”
“Yesyes,” muttered Rox. She pointed too the tiny, silver, fan-shaped brooch on her lapel. “I am learning all social habits. In future I ask, yes?”
“That would be polite,” said the human. “As would an apology for inappropriate behaviour.”
“Yesyes. Apologies, yes. It is customary for my kind to gain the knowledge of scent from others with whom we spend significant time.” She blew air through her nostrils to cleanse her sinuses. “You are fellow mammal, yes?” Mammals, she had learned, were relatively rare.
“That’s correct.”
“Is the scent of blood a norm?”
The human’s face twitched. “You have been briefed on the human reproductive cycle?”
“Yes…?” realisation dawned. The humans did not go into season. They had a permanent season, which required regular purging of the uterine walls. A subject many still viewed as taboo. “Yes. Apologies again. There is much information to recall. And I was never very good at retaining information.”
“Please keep your HUD monocle active for consultation,” the human made sure Rox’s fan pin was slightly more prominent on her gold coat. “Remember, we do not ask cogniscents about their differing physicality. Here in this locale of Earth, it is custom to shake hands as greeting. I have loaded a quick-reference guide to common gestures and their meanings onto your HUD.”
“My immense thanks.”
“Stay close to me at all times. I will answer all questions, but I can’t promise permanent politeness in the face of annoyances.”
“Understood.” Rox had noticed the silver pin on the human’s mostly-brown outfit.
And for the first time in a Standard Week, Rox ventured out into the public spaces of the planet Earth.
Once again, she was surprised by the variance in everything. Jaarl perfected its planetary biome centuries past. And standardised its buildings for functionality and aesthetics. The differences in just one of Earth’s ‘blocks’ was frankly astonishing.
A human trotted by with an animal on a leash. “That is… pet. Yes?”
“Yes, that’s a pet. Specifically, that’s a pet dog.”
“Dog,” Rox repeated, watching the animal and the way it moved. It was a bulky beast, with almost all of its distinguishing characteristics obscured by volumes of hair. Fur. Many mammals on this planet bore fur.
The trees along the walking paths were purely decorative, Rox learned. Having fruit trees would encourage citizens to steal the fruit. Since the trees were city property, the city also owned the harvest.
Human nonsense, of course. Most other installations with crop plants allowed the impoverished to take their portion for a very modest fee.
Another human with another pet. This one was significantly smaller and defined.
“Which pet is that?” asked Rox.
“That’s also a dog.”
“But…” Rox gestured with her hands. “So different.”
“We have many different varieties. The one you saw first was an English Sheepdog. That one is known as a Chihuahua.”
“But they are both… dog?”
“Dogs. Yes.”
“…dog,” muttered Rox. Another beast, this one long and low to the ground, with its ears flopping down beside it’s head.
“Yes, that’s a dog,” said the human. She said it so quickly that Rox suspected the question of dogs was getting annoying. “A Dachshund, or wiener dog.”
Five more times. Five more different dogs. Rox was getting the hang of this. Any four-legged mammal on a leash and in the company of a human was a dog.
No matter how bizarre they looked.
And there was the largest dog Rox had ever seen. It overshadowed the human accompanying it.
“Why does that dog wear a seat on its back?”
Sigh. “That one,” said the human. “Is a horse…”
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Challenge #00376 - A011: Unconventional.
Dogs on an interplanetary space station. What could possibly go wrong?
[AN: Here’s one I did earlier… But I presume you mean non-augments, so…]
The galactic community were just barely getting used to humans. There were large numbers of cogniscents who tended to run and hide when they spotted even a small one. Luckily, many humans did not view this as an insult and, in fact, some found it amusing.
The galactic community were also barely accustomed to human pets. Though the idea of farming was not novel, nor was the idea of training an animal to assist in assorted tasks… the very concept of keeping a non-cogniscent animal around for company was new.
Many approved of cats.
Cats demanded respect. They were low maintenance and useful and, surprisingly, the humans had developed a low-to-no-shedding variety before they developed commercial spaceflight. That, and they had no qualms about showing anyone stupid enough to try and hunt them why that was a very bad idea indeed.
But whatever this human had on the end of the brightly-coloured webbing was not a cat. It was configured slightly like a cat, in that it had four legs, fur, whiskers and a tail… beyond that, description failed.
It was black, and breathed very rapidly. The end that dipped up and down had to be the head, because a pink tongue frequently escaped to dangle and dribble in the open air. The tail did not swing lazily about as if drifting on its own air currents, but swept rapidly back and forth, creating its own.
It did not slink. It bounced.
It did not meow. It barked.
It did not discretely seek soil to enrich. It peed on everything that crossed its path.
And it was Kiz'ard'l’s job to clear it for station habitation. “There is something wrong with your cat,” she began.
“That’s a dog,” corrected the human. Ze picked the creature up and placed it carefully on the counter. “Sit.”
The dog settled its rear down, tail still oscillating.
There were twin dark, twinkling orbs in the mess of fur on what had to be its head. They seemed to have a secondary functionality compared with its perpetually sniffing nose.
Kiz'ard'l let it sniff her before proceeding with a cursory examination. Quadrupedal, of course. The tail seemed to be in a state of permanent movement. She checked the teeth. “Carnivorous,” she noted.
“Mostly,” added the human. “It’s never a good idea to give a dog too much people food. Even though they love it.”
“Predatory?” enquired Kiz'ard'l.
“He’s a Scottie. They were bred to hunt rats.”
“You said he is a dog.”
Sigh. The human had been through this before. “Species, dog. Canis Lupus Familiaris. Sub-breed, Scottie. Name, Toto.”
The ears, then the head, swivelled towards his owner, who absently scratched the animal’s head.
“Dangerous?” asked Kiz'ard'l. It paid to ask that of humans.
“Hmmmmn… Mostly harmless. You don’t have any cogniscent rats, right?”
And for a human, ‘mostly harmless’ translated out as 'venomous, nigh venomous, toxic, poisonous or otherwise savage’. She’d heard the one about the human with the snake who kept giving hir “love bites”… that would kill or cripple any other cogniscent species on that station.
“I require a safe demonstration of its hunting techniques.”
There was a sheer, metal tub for such things. And a sacrificial supply of pest-lizards. Once the lizards were released in the same environment as the dog… it was a gory, grousome slaughter filled with growls and the cheering of the human.
“Good boy,” cooed the human, recovering zir pet predator into their arms. “Oooza goo’ boy den? Ooooza goooooood boy…”
Humans…
They may be profitable to have around, but they had some damn disturbing habits.
“You’re going to keep that thing restrained at all times in all public areas unless under specific request.”
The human rolled zir eyes as ze saluted. “Yes, ma'am.” And then felt compelled to add, “He’s a real softie, most of the time.”
Translation: it will eat you in your sleep. “Move along, please.”
Another smiling human with what appeared to be a small ungulate on another brightly-coloured webbing chain to its human’s wrist.
“Cat?” Kiz'ard'l said hopefully.
“Pig,” said the human.
This was going to be a very long day.
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Challenge #00375 - A010: Animal Associate
The concept of pets is an odd one to explain, although firsthand experience tends to fill in the gaps you can’t quite articulate. And when pets are involved experience is going to happen whether it is planned or not.
Jane figured she should get used to aliens feeling her. They didn’t mean to be rude, she knew. They were just curious.
But, she swore to God, if one more of them tried to taste her hair…
One of her lizard shipmates sniffed the pet-carrier that was part of her belongings.
“Live food?” it queried.
“Not food,” she insisted. “Friend.”
Sniff snuff snuffle. “Smells food.”
The only language they shared was Broken GalStand. “Friend. Not food. Is…” she fumbled for the right words. “Animal associate.”
“Not smart?”
Jane considered the dickbaggery that Whittington, her cat, got up to on a daily basis. “Not smart. Friend animal. Never food. You eat, I get mad. You eat, I get sad. You eat, I charge.”
The lizard got its nose too close to Whittington’s cage and, true to form, Whittington sunk a claw into the lizard’s left nostril.
“YEEEEE! Predator! Predator not food!”
Whittington tried to bat at the lizard through the hole in his cage.
Word would get around, of course. But, just in case, “I tell captain of animal associate. Say to tell all.”
“Wise,” nodded the lizard. “Smart.”
“You go doctor. Get fix. Yes?”
“Yes,” echoed the lizard. As it left, she heard what was probably a lot of lizard curses.
She’d pick them up in due course.
Whittington became labled as an unsafe animal and linked to Jane in short order. It was up to her to provide educational videos about cats in general and Whittington in particular. Those lessons included Catspeak, proper handling, what to do if bitten (because cat saliva and lizard blood did not mix well), and active discouragement.
After the fifth crewman lost their tail, the word very quickly got around about Whittington. Crewmembers began to carry around water-pistols for self defence.
It was when Whittington figured out the ‘good’ prey on board that his reputation grew. Especially when the Captain caught him playing with some vermin on the bridge.
Evidently, casual feline cruelty was not as amusing to the lizards as it was to Jane.
And that was how the one about humans keeping dangerous animals for personal amusement got around…
If Jane had owned a terrier, things may have turned out worse for humanity.
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