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 #00377 - A012: Fandom Follies
You mentioned once in a fic that Kurt was a B5 fan. Mind ficcing more about that? (I’ve been bingeing on B5 lately). Bonus if Sara is involved. ^_^
“And then Marcus pops up out of nowhere an–”
“Wait. This is a fanfic, ja?”
“Ye-es. What part of AU did you fail to understand?”
“The AU part. I was hoping further conversation would help me decode you.”
“Just put your hand up when I talk sideways,” protested Sara.
“Fraulein, I would have my hand in the air all the time.”
“Okay. From the top. AU - Alternate Universe. The author didn’t like the cannon and decided to make their own. Crackfic - fic from a wild idea that is in no way expected to be taken seriously. Smut–”
“I know what smut is, danke.”
“Naughty elf… So I don’t need to explain the citrus family?”
“Heheheheheh…”
Jean poked her head in to find Kurt and Sara cooking massive volumes of Swedish Meatballs. “What in the name of sanity are you two doing?”
“This isn’t sanity, it’s science fiction,” sniffed Kurt.
“Yes,” said Sara. “Try to keep up.”
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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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Perks of a new job
Did I mention that one of the perks of this job offer is that you get to burn down your current office? – RecklessPrudence
(#00374 - A009)
Amycus Carrow looked at the pink mess in front of him. The kitten plates were gone, but the abundance of pink remained in the office like a pall of death.
Delores Umbrige hadn’t cleaned up after herself when she was taken for psychiatric assistance.
Behind him, Headmaster Severus Snape caught his aura of disgust and intoned, “Did I mention that one of the perks of this job offer is that you get to incinerate your current office?”
The very idea of this much pink poison going up in flames was like a song in his heart. “I’ll take it,” he purred. His wand was already halfway up.
“INCENDIO!”
Oh… that was delicious.
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Challenge #00373 - A008: Madthod
‘Is there really method to your madness, or just a functional madness successfully disguising itself as method?’
‘Both, of course, the precise proportions varying according to time and place.’ – RecklessPrudence
Rael watched helplessly as Shayde ‘wreaked hob’ on the enemy systems. She was cackling.
His own instincts to fix were not a problem in this situation. Digesting the poison they’d tried to use on them was. It was doing things to his internal systems that was, frankly, uncomfortable. It sapped his strength. It made him lose his appetite.
Always a danger sign in a Faiize.
Shayde had done her best for him, providing some variety of inter-dimensional manna to at least keep him going. And a blanket to help him maintain his temperature. Now she was working on their escape.
Perhaps, a little too gleefully.
He summoned the power of speech. “Is there really a method to your madness?” he croaked. “Or just a functional madness successfully disguising itself as a method?”
She tore out some wires with a faint (runch) sound. “Both o’ course. The exact amounts depend on the time an’ place, ye ken.”
Ah. Well, that was the opposite of reassuring. His fault for asking.
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Challenge #00372 - A007: T'reka the Unobservant
Missing the forest for the exotic small mites living under the feathers of the woodpecker. – RecklessPrudence
She was focussed intently on the little bird on the branch above her. Of course, as an avian herself, birds were nothing new. But this little creature was like nothing that came from the records of Hu'lu'a. It did not scratch or pick at the bark between her and the grubs. It hammered at it.
Toktoktoktoktoktoktoktok…
She could infer that this creature had protection for its brain. Otherwise, how could it survive?
A feather dropped, a great fortune. T'reka put it into her field scope and peered down it to see what she could see.
Fascinating. Lice that evolved to live on the feathers of a bird previously unknown to science! She placed the feather, louse and all, into a specimen bottle for later analysis.
The DNA of this island was strange. Almost as if another planet had seeded this world as well as her fellow Numidid. Bizarre hybrids had, of course, sprung up.
But if some other species had seeded this world - where were they?
A chime alerted her to the oncoming sunset. T'reka sighed and headed back to her base camp.
Behind her, one of the bushes stood up and struggled out of its canopy…
*
Susan did her best to pant quietly. Nobody had told her how hot Gilly Suits were. She was bathed in sweat and desperately thirsty and, frankly, very lucky that her “pretend friend” Grey Chicken hadn’t noticed her sneaking up to her in the underbrush.
She was also incredibly lucky that her camera was the quiet kind.
But the important thing was that she had proof, now.
Grey Chicken was real.
The only question remained was - what to do with the evidence?
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