Challenge #00491 - A116: Random Curiosity

You mentioned Shayde’s much-debated status as “human” among the denizens of Amalgam. So I’m guessing that as well as all the “human status confirmed” moments there had to be a few cogniscients that just bluntly asked her what she was. And I’ll bet after the first twelve she started coming up with more creative answers/responses….

[AN: I doubt she made it as far as twelve]

There were drawbacks to being in the company of someone who was only technically human.

“Your -er- tall friend, over there,” began a random passerby.

“Yes, she’s human in everything but the physical resemblance. I stood with her in the ruins of Daffadd Gwedyl ar Afon[1] as she gave a historically accurate recounting of what was no longer there. Including details that were discovered later. She originated in pre-shattering Earth and has… been… through quite a lot.”

“She’s really five hundred years old?”

“Another technicality,” Rael allowed. “Chronologically, subjectively, she’s twenty-seven. It’s only when you measure her age in this universe that she’s five hundred and change.”

Over at the counter, Shayde was dealing with another curious cogniscent in a far less civil manner. “Noooooo… I’m a meat popsicle. And I’m only two! Awa’ wi’ ye! Shoo!”

People should really learn to pay attention to the pins she wore.

[1] I once translated “sheep crossing on the river” to Welsh and this is what I got.

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Challenge #00490 - A115: One Alarming Discovery on the Paths Less Travelled

I may have already submitted a similar prompt, but there was mention made about how non-human species might be very good for autistes - some are very cuddly, some like particularly quiet environments, some have interesting textures. All good for degaussing or forcing the unwanted mob to back off when the autiste is having trouble communicating.

In case a similar prompt has already been made, I’ll request the first time a human of the autism spectrum met any of the Galactic Alliance

It looked like any other idiot-pod in the space lanes. The sad proof that something fatal had happened, elsewhere. Jork logged the vectors and ran a cross-check on the Galactic News-nets for any other hints of where it may have come from. And notified the rescue networks that she was due some pay.

Air mix inside matched the air mix outside. Good. And one living soul inside, according to its readouts. Apparently in distress.

Jork triple-checked the infection stats, too. Best not to give the patient anything they were unprepared for. Or to catch something from them. All good. Great. She popped the seals.

There was a lump in the middle of the seating arc. Swaddled entirely in a fluffy blanket. Oscillating regularly and making a constant noise.

“Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn…”

Jork took the universally accepted not-a-threat posture (cringing as low as possible and taking baby-steps forward. “Hello? Is friend,” she offered in Galstand.

“Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn…”

“You is hurt?”

“Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn…”

“You is scared?”

“Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn…”

“Please be speak?”

The lump cringed. Tightened on itself. Respiration was occurring, as was the sound. Jork ran a medical scanner and discovered that the inhabitant of the fluffy blanket was a human. A juvenile.

The human emerged from their huddle to watch the lights from the scanner[1].

“Hello,” Jork tried again. “Is friend. Am name Jork.”

The human didn’t seem to understand this, but reached out to touch. “Soft,” they said. “Smooth.”

“Yes,” agreed Jork. Uncertain as to whether this was a compliment.

“You’re like warm glass.”

Okay… “It is not safe to stay here,” said Jork. “This is survival pod. Is not live-in pod. You come with? I help.”

It was a steep learning curve, transporting this human to places where other humans were. She did not, in any way, react like humans were known to. She took in Jork’s normal as just that - normal. And when she warmed up to Jork’s company, little treasures became revealed.

Her name was Victoria. She liked the name Vic. She liked to line up her food by colour before ingesting and would -if unsupervised- suckle liquid Nutri-food from the bag all day if she could get away with it. She liked smooth things, fluffy things, and warm things.

And there were frequent episodes where she could not distinguish between reality and her own imagination. And since her reality stemmed largely from the fiction she’d absorbed, Jork had to learn how to deal with these incursions by comforting Vic before asking who could help resolve the problem.

And, when they finally docked with a Britanian station, Jork was truly sorry to see Vic return to her parents. On one hand, it would be easier to work without Vic wrapped around a limb, but… it would also be lonelier.

She also learned that the thing that made Vic so much more accepting of others and their ways was considered a mental disorder amongst humans. That humans pitied people like Vic. Sometimes, considered them lesser.

Further proof in Jork’s mind that humans were crazy.

[1] Thanks to numerous science fiction dramas, all scanners must have blinking lights as part of their makeup or various cogniscents will not be aware that they’re working.

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Challenge #00489 - A114: Oxymoronic Artefacts

A sign in Braille that says “do not touch”

“Humans had to have made that,” said P’riix.

Tonq, the other archeologist on this ruined planet, peered at it. It was a wall plaque with two codified human languages on it. One of them, raised for the vision-impaired.

The flaking paint above read, “DO NOT TOUCH”

“Oh yes,” said Tonq. “We have clear evidence of humans.”

Which would alter all the reasonings concluded from the evidence so far. And, of course, hiring a human consultant to help them find a reason why this planet chose to self-immolate.

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Challenge #00488 - A113: Biggest Fans

A friend just showed me the opening lines to his new story and said I could use them as a prompt:

“This is the voice of the Mysterons. We know you can hear us, Earth-”
*sound of tape rewinding*
“…Sorry for the technical difficulties. To clarify, we are not the Mysterons. We are arguably worse.”

“Approach Cairo at vector two-one-niner by alpha seven,” sighed Kevin. “And we’ll thank you for a lack of sideshows on the way in.”

Some aliens viewed humans with suspicion and distrust. Some viewed humans as dangerous. Some saw humans as insane.

But the most hazardous of all were the ones who viewed humans as entertaining. Every five years, the major cities of Earth held a lottery, and the one who got the short straw had the dubious honour of hosting H-Con.

And, like many humans who did not want an instant trail of alien paparazzi following their every move, Kevin was planning to move the heck out of Cairo, Egypt, and very possibly Terran local space for the interim.

Mars looked very good this time of year.

And Earth, being a residence of varying entrepreneurs, sold a fame experience to people who wanted to be followed by alien paparazzi and asked intrusive questions.

For the rest of the year, Cairo would be full of the people who paid to be here, the people who were paid to be here, and the people who, unfortunately, could not in all good conscience leave.

Of all of them, Kevin pitied the members of the third group. It was no wonder that those experienced with H-Con referred to it as the Year of Hell. A city full of maddening fanbeings, taking uninvited photos, asking unwanted questions, staring and grinning and getting into everything. And, if they were extremely unlucky, taking everything that wasn’t nailed down.

“Welcome to Earth, H-Con Cruiser One. Please keep all your receipts.”

Kevin hung up his headset, grabbed his suitcase, and proceeded with all due speed to the cruiser for Mars.

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Challenge #00487 - A112: Why They Never Came By

The humans’ reaction to finding out what the rest of the galaxy thought about them before actual first contact (bonus points mentioning the Pioneer plaques)

The humans learned fast. They apparently learned by messing around with things until something happened that they understood, and worked outwards from there.

And they had learned to read Ulu.

T'reka watched and recorded various humans at the Communications Centre that had once been a Hide Unit. They sat or stood at various info-stations and accessed data on a seemingly random basis.

Most avid of them all was Su-syn. Every single day when T'reka was not active in the jungles of Toxic Island, Su-syn would find her way to the Beach Path Hide Unit and find something to read and translate.

T'reka noted with some strictly internal alarm that today’s exercise for Su-syn was the Wikipedia Galactica’s extensively cross-referenced file on humans. The local addendum concerning emergent capacities for adaptability and amenability towards other species was waiting an extensive peer review and - T'reka was certain - her own demise by natural causes.

“Warning plaque?” Su-syn read. She checked the calendars and resumed her reading. Very soon, Su-syn began experiencing a breathing difficulty that involved a lot of short breaths and grinding noises.

And since Su-syn was very alarmingly gravid, T'reka abandoned her paper-in-progress to glide as fast as she could to the Comms Centre. Concerned for her friend. The sky-raker trees meant that T'reka could climb high and therefore cover vast distances.

When she arrived at the Comms Centre, T'reka discovered Su-syn leaning against the console, water streaming from her eyes, and a repetitive bark of a call coming from her throat.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…” (gasp) “HAHAAAHAHAHAHAAAHAAAA…” (gasp) “HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA…” (gasp) “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!” Su-syn broke off in coughing.

The other humans did not seem at all concerned. “Su-syn,” she called. “Is this normal reaction? Is you wanting medic?”

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” she squeaked. “All fine feather,” she added in Ulu. “Who wrote this? It’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen…” Su-Syn leaned back, clutching her distended belly and did more of the disturbing calls.

“This is normal reaction to… funny?”

“Yes!” and more of the barking call.

Humans are not alarmed by their status of dangerous animals, T'reka later wrote, Rather, they seem greatly amused by it.

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Challenge #00486 - A111: Camouflage

“Humans perceive sixteen times the colors we do. Do not hide in bushes or vines from humans. They can distinguish your pelt from the foliage with ease.”

There were always things to learn. Things like, once an anomalous shape is recognised, it’s easier to spot. Dappled shadows were better to hide in and blending was important.

“Gotcha!” said the human. “You really suck at hide-and-seek, T'yrt'yr[1].”

“I followed the rules,” she objected. “And your guidelines. How is it that you keep finding me?”

“You’re a charcoal-coloured bird hiding in an ocean-grey nook. You stand out like a sore thumb.” Tor laughed, trying to show her where her wing stood out against the place where she had once hid. “See?”

“I want to surrender,” said T'yrt'yr. “I do not understand how a pale-hide like you can hide everywhere. Or how you can spot me and have different names for identical colours.”

“They look like identical colours to you,” Tor explained. “To us… not so much.”

“Please do not walk me through salmon-fuscia-rose-pink again? They all appear to be the same hue.”

“Maybe we could build a treehouse? At least then we won’t be arguing about colours.”

“Let’s play on the beach. We can collect shells.”

“Sandcastles?”

“You read my mind.”

Two children from different worlds sped together for mutual fun. One occasionally assisting the other by using their arm as a perch to throw the other to glide ahead of them.

Two friends amongst many other like them on a planet called Amity.

[1] pron: chir-chir

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Challenge #00485 - A110: Irresistible Force

Hey look what came around with new bits on it! http://siphersaysstuff.tumblr.com/post/73671577343/therobotmonster-moniquill-siderealsandman

Prepare for a barrage of prompts based on it :P

1. “Our strength and speed is nothing to write home about, but we don’t need to overpower or outrun you. We just need to outlast you - and by any other species’ standards, we just plain don’t get tired.”

[AN: I love that post so much that I’m hinging a book on it :D Bits you see here may or may not turn up in the finished opus]

T'reka leaned heavily on the trunk of the tree that she was resting in. Gulped at her water and desperately tried not to faint. A local year of physical exercise had reformed her body from the stereotypical soft and weak scientist into that of a Scientist of Steel.

She was fitter than most of her fellow kind in the distant city of Kal'rike, but the human had yet to stop her steady pace.

“Again?” said Su-syn. “Just roost on my backpack, I don’t mind.”

The carrying capacity of humans boggled T'reka’s mind. The fact that a juvenile human could carry travel supplies and a grown cogniscent on her shoulders was awe-inspiring.

“My am thanks,” she managed in Human. Su-syn’s head was warm and soft and inviting to lean against. “I understanding human rumours of unstoppable hunting.”

Su-syn laughed as she continued on her relentless pace. “And I haven’t even trained for cross country,” she said. “I’m just doing Kori a favour. That’s all.”

“You is walk more over five Flights.”

“Yeah, it is about two and a half clicks, now. On the plus side, we’re getting close.” Su-syn walked her through almost invisible signs that the ungulate known as Midnite had been in this locale. Dung on the ground. Hairs in the knotbush. Broken twigs and foam from the animal’s saliva.

“You is stop to showing me,” worried T'reka. “Will not horse Midnight get further running? Horse is faster over human.”

“Eh. Horses are faster, but not really in the long term,” Su-syn resumed her steady pacing. “Midnite’s a sprinter, so he does short little dashes and gets tired.” She pointed to a depression in the foliage. “Stopped for a roll. We’re gaining on him.”

It wasn’t a full Flight further that they came upon the black ungulate gulping water from a stream. It - he - raised his head to stare at the two of them.

Su-syn already had a ’crabapple’ a small fruit native to her original planet, the aptly-named Terra. “Hey there, beautiful,” she sang. “Lookit I got…”

The animal walked over and enveloped the crabapple in one bite. And, in a movement T'reka almost missed, Su-syn captured the beast in a rope leash. A halter. The ungulate flicked its ears back and rumbled.

“Well if you didn’t run away,” Su-syn admonished the animal, “I wouldn’t have to catch you like this.”

“We is to riding back?” enquired T'reka.

“Nah. Midnite needs a good rest before he can be ridden again. I’ll walk him back.” Su-syn had barely stopped. She didn’t even stop for water. Just tipped it into her mouth from the container at her hip. “You’d better stay on my backpack. Your feet are sharp and I didn’t bring a blanket.”

T'reka investigated the crystals forming on the ungulate’s hide. “These is salt!”

“Yup. Horses sweat just like humans. We need salt, and they need more of it, because they have more skin to sweat with. But you knew we needed salt.”

Alarm. “How is you knowing?”

“We found your probes on the pipeline,” said Su-syn casually.

Which lead T'reka to wonder exactly how long the humans had known she was in their neighbourhood…

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(submission instead of ask because you can’t embed pictures in an ask, reply privately if you prefer)

This was something I started ages ago, it fell by the wayside when uni work got ahead of me and I don’t know if It’ll ever be finished, but as a very rough base it was what I thought T’reka might look like because I had never seen a guineafowl before but do own a grey chicken, sans most clothing because I wanted to get the feathers sorted before figuring out what to put over them. (the little smudge on the right is a hand, there was the little girl reaching towards her that I cropped off to save space since she was still in super-rough)

For an idea of how detailed it was planned to go, look at T’reka’s right hand. How far off is it in terms of what she actually looks like?

I added my own scribbly-sketch attempt at T'reka. The pointy thing on her head is a bone crest that Guinea Fowl have.

Everyone should google Guinea Fowl. They are incredibly adorable birds. On the ground, they look like speckled basket-balls with heads and legs. They fly by throwing their heads in front of them and flapping madly to catch up. And they have the worst survival instinct of all Earth’s creatures: they react to a loud noise by sticking their heads up and calling at the top of their lungs. Seriously. People used to hunt them with police whistles and shotguns [::PEEEP!:: (birds stick their heads up) “lulu lulu lulu” ::Blam!::]

So of course I had to have the first species to contact the highly dangerous humans be a bunch of birds with the survival instincts of a meringue duck.

I know I haven’t stated as such in the stories, but the default clothing of Numidid kind is a vest and leg-warmers ensemble.

[I keep feeling I’d do better in Spore’s Creature Creator. Bluh]

Challenge #00485 - A110: The Awkward First Date

Judging by the queue size this’ll take just over a month to get to the top of the pile, so that’s a nice gap. More of the budding relationship between K’iiv and Del please?

K'iiv waited anxiously at the appointed place. Underneath the big clock that, in clear defiance of the laws of time and space, still read four minutes to two. So far, he had preened himself, purchased Terran flowers, preened himself, checked the lay of his clothes, preened himself and checked the news before preening himself.

He had, of course, scoured the info-nets for information on how to date a human. The Abbreviated Guide to the Galaxy had been more uninformative than usual[1] and he’d gone on increasingly perplexing wiki walks for days before he began to suspect that the Abbreviated Guide had it right all along.

But then he thought of Del and knew it had it all wrong.

Just when he was about to nervously preen himself again… there she was. A member of a cogniscent species once deemed so dangerous that other races kept a five-system border between themselves and any system inhabited by humans. She wore maintenance colours, of course, but the way she wore it declared, _Off duty, go away_.

Never before had such a simple dress and sandals combo been so… devastating.

K'iiv felt both sets of knees tremble. “I… understand that offerings of plant genetalia are appropriate…?” Ow. Could he be any more awkward and awful?

But then, a miracle. She laughed and smiled. “They’re lovely. Thank you. And so are you.”

It was the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

[1] The entry under ‘How to Date a Human’ was one word: Don’t.

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Challenge #00484 - A109: Someone Said it

A.
Light Year.
Is.
The distance.
That light.
Travels.
In a year. – RecklessPrudence

[AN: Huzzah! I’m not the only person annoyed by this]

“So we travelled six thousand light years in less than an hour?” asked the tourist.

“Technically,” allowed the Hitchhiker. “Wormholes are more of a shortc–”

“We’ve been taking light years in minutes! Why aren’t I any younger?” the tourist guffawed at his own joke.

Rael could actually hear Shayde snap. He was frankly shocked that the rest of this port-side Unsuitable Food Bar didn’t hear it as well. As it was, he was far too slow to stop her from physically picking the man up by his hawaiian print shirt collar.

“A. Light Year. Is. The distance. That light. Travels. In a year!” She punctuated her statement with agitated shakes of the tourist. “It’s no’ diet time!”

“…ifIgiveyouaMinutewillyouputmedown?” he squeaked. Barely audible above the applause from everyone else within earshot. Including the Hitchhiker.

“Never. Make. That joke. Again. Ye ken?”

“…yes’m…”

Shayde put him down with a snarl. “Guid. Hope ye learned sommat today.” It was evidently an effort to back off.

And it was also a very good thing that Ambassadors had a certain amount of leniency vis-a-vis physical assault. Rael did what he could to calm her down and covertly updated the stations’ Tetchy Ambassador Warning System.

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