Challenge #00938-B207: Human Phenomena

An alien witnessing a human do the “Just walked through a spiderweb” dance for the first time

OR

A scholar writing a research paper on the one dance universal to all human tribal cultures, the “Spiderweb” dance.

In augmented scope sight, the web was clearly visible. And the spider itself stood out like a miniature sun.

“This spider,” whispered a lizard off to one side of the screen, “has been weaving and re-weaving its web all night. In a few hours, it will retreat from its work. Because it knows that foot traffic will soon ruin its chance to feast. We also know that a human regularly exercises through here. So we may have the chance to see something spectacular.”

The view changed to common optics, thus rendering the spiderweb invisible.

The lizard vanished somewhere off camera as the view focussed further down the corridor.

The human in question wore the usual warning signs. Non-emergency running in progress. Ze had some sound equipment on and hir eyes closed as ze jogged.

The instant ze hit the web…

“AUGH! Pthpht… Pthpht… euw gross uuuuugggghhh….” Hir arms and legs flailed in panic and alarm. Hir feet danced around and twirled her about.

“And this,” said the lizard, “is the first time the humans’ spiderweb dance has been caught in its entirety on a vid.”

The human said, “What in the Powers are you doing, over there?”

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Challenge #00937-B206: Living Proof

Another Humans Are Crazy point: most bright colours in the animal kingdom are for either a mating display or are a poison warning. The brighter the colours, the more likely it’s poison - see snakes and frogs, even compared to peacocks they are brighter (if less visually spectacular overall).

Most other animals, on seeing the fluorescent poison warning colours, are rightly horrified. 

Meanwhile, humans think they are pretty.

Of all the ambassadorial mistakes Harry could have made, this one pretty much topped the metaphorical cake. During one of the mandatory mingling exercises, She sidled up to the nervous Ambassador Q’vath and murmured, “I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but your colours are very pretty.”

“I AM WEARING TOXIC COLOURS! SELF IS NOT BEING TASTY!” Q’vath back-pedalled away from her as if she were a rabid predator. “STAY BACK, DEATHWORLDER!”

Harry immediately put her hands up in surrender position and stepped away. In retrospect, it was the hard way to learn that many in the Galactic Alliance still considered her species to be highly dangerous.

And she was very glad when the ambassadors from Amity turned up with positive proof that Havenworlders and Deathworlders could co-exist.

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Challenge #00936-B205: An Ace Up Her Sleeve

(Since we can do this, let’s try a different post)

Pick a prompt from one of these:

http://thepreciousthing.tumblr.com/post/121702150607/finding-flight-okay-but-imagine-a-medieval

“You fool,” crowed Master Magistar. “You thought that underwater level was a simple defensive measure!” He cackled in his usual, evil manner. “I filled that labyrinth with pure Love Potion! You cannot hope to defeat your one, true love.”

“Watch me,” said Aiana the Mighty unsheathed her rapier point. “Have you nothing else to defend yourself with, wizard?”

He bared a little of his bony chest. “The love you feel for me won’t let you harm me. Go ahead. Do your worst.”

Aiana the mighty aimed and lunged without another thought. Piercing him straight through his black heart.

“But… the love potion…”

“Doesn’t work on one who can not love,” Aiana smiled. “In your next life, do look up the words ‘aromantic’ and ‘asexual’.”

“…impossible…” he croaked. It was his last word.

She cleaned her sword and set about breaking his spells across the land. Some later sang that it was her sword that held magic against him. Or some piece of her armour. Or a charm or a blessing or even a curse.

But the truth is, sometimes, you need the right kind of hero.

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Challenge #00935-B204: Human Terminology

(Came up with this and thought of a certain sawn-off lunatic, but it doesn’t have to be Vorkosigan fic if you don’t want it to be)

“When you say ‘secure on three flanks, with an opportunity to the north’, what you really mean is ‘cut off on three sides, with enemies front’, isn’t it?

“I mean both!”

[AN: SO very tempted to write one of the Vorkosigan brats…]

Hwell returned covered in soot and a light scattering of debris. “Okay,” he panted. “The good news is… we’re secure on three sides.”

“That’s Hwellish for ‘we’re cut off’ isn’t it?” said Ax’and’l.

“Well excuse me for trying to put a positive spin on it,” Hwell pouted. “Positive thinking is the key to success.”

“I’m positively picturing a situation in which I can get away with strangling you,” Ax’and’l growled.

“If you do that, you’ll never find out my secret escape plan.”

“How?” demanded Ax’and’l. “We’re cut off on three sides and the enemy is gathering to the front. Oh. Sorry,” he added thick sarcasm. “We’re secure on three sides with an opportunity on the fourth.”

“Just for that I might hike off and let you dangle,” Hwell turned his back. “I swear you don’t know the meaning of gratitude.”

“It’s moments like this that I’m barely capable of it.” Ax’and’l sighed. “Fine. How are you planning to get us out of here?”

“Sideways,” grinned Hwell.

O Gods. It was going to be one of those.

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Challenge #00934-B203: Loverly Spam…

You don’t reference Monty Python to be helpful, you reference Monty Python because you can.

On the upside, they now had an interstellar ‘ride‘. On the downside, it was an abandoned freighter. Its hold was still full. Which meant that the parental company had pulled the plug and evacuated the pilot when the cargo proved to be valueless.

And, of course, Shayde had to look.

“No,” she grinned. The tone of her voice made it sound like a good thing.

Which meant that it was supremely bad news for Rael. “What have you found?” he grated in the disinterested tones of someone who knew he didn’t want to know, but also wanted the painful bit over as soon as humanly possible.

“Jus’ look,” she said in the tones of someone who had just discovered Christmas.

He did. The cargo holds, all fifty of them, were chock full of stasis pallets loaded and stacked high with blue cans featuring something… pink.

“I don’t get it,” he confessed. He toured down into the hold for a closer look. It was some variety of canned meat product. Ancient Terran alphabet. The yellow letters declared it to be SPAM.

Shayde’s voice pitched up into an unholy screech, “We got Eggs, Spam and Chips… Spam, Eggs and Sausage… Eggs, Spam, Sausage and Chips… Spam, Eggs, Spam and Spam… Spam, Sausage, Spam, Eggs and Spam… Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam and Spam…”

Her usual field of ur-reality asserted itself in an invisible chorus of male voices singing, “Spam, spam, spam, spam, spam…”

“Would you stop that?” pleaded Rael.

“Right on cue!” Shayde crowed. She slid down the railing so she could mime punching him in the arm. “And you said ye had no idea of what Monty Python was.”

“I still don’t,” Rael muttered. “Is this a food product or a punchline?”

“Ye know,” said Shayde. “I often wondered tha’ meself…”

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Challenge #00933-B202: It’s Just Physics

“Oh, so attempting to mind control the entire planet is fine, but steam engines, now THEY’RE too much…”

“Steam powered machines just wouldn’t work in space,” argued Ken. “It’s just physics. You wouldn’t need a fire, the water would just boil from lack of pressure. And don’t get me started on how the cabin pressure works.”

Kyle sighed. “It’s not supposed to be taken seriously.”

“Yes, but science that bad manages to filter into the heads of the ignorant.”

“What?”

“You watch,” said Ken. “Three weeks, tops, some asshole on youtube will be using this movie as an example of advanced alien technology.”

“It’s. A. Parody. No way in the world would anyone take it seriously.”

*

Two weeks and five days later, Ken sent Kyle a link to a youtube video.

It was titled, Aliens Among Us, the Conspiracy Continues.

He included a handy time reference to where Super Steam Space Ninjas was heavily referenced.

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Challenge #00932-B201: We Are Magic

Person #1: C'mon!

Person #2: No.

Person #1: Aww. Please?

Person #2: No. There’s no such thing.

Person #1: But you’ll never know if you have magic powers until you try!

Person #2: *sigh* Fine. Abracada-[Words in a dead tongue, strange lights from nowhere and levitating off the floor]

What Debbie and Angela didn’t know, of course, was that it was all a trick. A light show, mostly. And her limited skills in telekinesis for the levitating objects.

Cassie kept one eye half-open, waiting for someone to throw water on her or nail her with a pillow. No such luck.

Angela somehow got her hands on a knife. She was sobbing, “I’m sorry, Cassie. I’m so sorry.”

Cassie dropped the act in a cold second. “Whoah, whoah, whoah. I was just playing with you. It was a trick. I swear.” She hurriedly invented some mundane explanations for her prank, including sibling intervention.

Thank goodness her own telekinesis skills didn’t allow her to lift herself off the floor, yet. She could explain her rising a few centimeters as standing on her tip-toes.

Mom had been right. Mortals were dangerous playmates. And some tricks must never be shared.

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Challenge #00931-B200: Bunkmate From Hell

In the name of it’s late and eventually we both want to sleep, I agree to that deal.

“You ever really think about cats?” asked Sam. “You know. Really think about cats? Like they’re a solid animal, but they act like a fluid and they can expand to fill the space they want to take up…. And the super-fluffy ones always shock you when they’re wet because they’re all like those hairless skeleton things underneath all that fuzz?”

“WILL. YOU. SHUT. THE FUCK. UP?“ Alex demanded. “It’s eleven fucking fifty pee em. Can we PLEASE go to sleep before fucking tomorrow?”

“Y’know I read somewhere that if you cut a cat’s whiskers short, they get super disorientated?”

“I would sell my soul to make you shut up, right now.”

In an almost cartoony puff of smoke, the Prince of Hell appeared. “That could be arranged.”

“Dude,” said Sam. “Am I high or did you see that too?”

“Okay, fine,” said Alex. “I want to be able to make her,” she thrust a rude thumb in Sam’s direction, “sleep when I want her to. Only sleep. No death. No fucking sleep apnea, somnambulance, or talking in her sleep like she was awake. Just sleep and only sleep. Got it. Oh. And I want to be able to wake her up, too. No fucking around on that side, either.”

“…fucking lawyers,” grumbled the devil. “You will be able to command your friend to sleep. And wake. In return for your immortal soul.”

“Fine. Great. Let’s do this.”

What she got was a clicker that glowed in the dark. Alex immediately added it to her keychain before she tried it out.

“Dude,” said Sam. “Are you really responsible for geese?“

…clikit…

Sam’s head hit her pillow with a satisfying thud.

Peace. Beautiful. Wonderful peace.

“Er,” said the devil. “You do know that your soul is mine to torture for eternity, right?”

“You try bunking with Sam for four years,” sighed Alex as she made herself comfortable. “I’ve already been to hell…”

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Challenge #00930-B199: Ban the Hammer

All parts should go together without forcing. You must remember that the parts you are reassembling were disassembled by you. Therefore, if you can’t get them together again, there must be a reason. By all means, do not use a hammer. — IBM maintenance manual, 1925

Taking things apart is easy. Putting them back again, not so much.

So far, Rael had had lots of practice with the former. He’d found he’d attempted reassembly in the wrong order. Five times. Each iteration was a new and interesting method of getting everything out of order.

“Trouble?” said Dode. She’d been watching him as idle entertainment for ten minutes.

“I took stock,” said Rael. “I noted and logged carefully each and every piece and where it was meant to go…” He vented his frustration with a wail of, “Why won’t they flakking go back together?”

“Try building around the main spring. Wind it up, but don’t let it unwind.”

Rael tried it, and boggled at how well it worked.

“The trick is not in knowing that it can be assembled,” said Dode. “The trick is knowing how the pieces won’t get in each other’s way.”

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Challenge #00929-B198: Fortifying Education

A Havenworlder finds out that even after reaching the Information Age, with early-warning systems and all the other resources available to a species at such a level of development, tsunamis (“The term refers to several million tonnes of water traveling at two hundred meters per second.”) still killed an average of seven thousand people consistently, every year, over four decades

(last four from 2015)

Th’k’x had to wear full health monitors and have a Medik on standby, just to access the records on Humans. She could understand why, of course. Her species were notoriously fragile. Humans called her people Mayflies, and on the rare occasions when they accidentally shared space, deliberately maintained a non-threat posture until the Rithrong in question was able to safely leave the area.

Exposure to tougher life forms helped toughen up her own species. Epigenetics and some form of molecular osmosis had its invisible hands in the process.

So, once a week, young Rithrong like herself strapped themselves in and worked on the process. The trick was to endure without endangering their own life.

This week’s exercise was Terran History.

Th’k’x gingerly tapped the ‘commence’ key.

“The very geography of Earth is hostile to life as we know it. Frequent eruptions of the surface crust cause phenomena called ‘earthquakes’ and ‘volcanoes‘.”

Alarming footage of the very ground moving like a wave. And fire -no- molten rock spewing from the top of a mountain. Th’k’x began her breathing exercises.

“Amber,” said Technician Riilg’r. Her job was to monitor Th’k’x life signs and not the lesson.

“Thank you,” Th’k’x pressed the button that would gentle the lesson, and made sure she red-flagged the pictures of molten rock.

“Some consequences of these crust disturbances included semi-toxic clouds, collapses or upheavals in the ocean floor, and violent disturbances of the oceans themselves.”

Ancient, grainy footage of a bay emptying of all its water. Colour footage of a large wave swamping a walkway full of humans. Text crawled across the bottom of the screen: All humans survived this.

“The most violent of these ocean disturbances is called a ‘tsunami’. An ancient Terran word meaning ‘ocean wave’.” A cartoon explained how large volumes of water would build up into an enormous wave that could wipe entire towns from the scenery. It was less real as a cartoon. Less terrifying.

“It wasn’t until the early twenty-first century that humans developed a warning system advanced enough to allow for evacuation of threatened areas.” More graphical information. A map showing an underwater earthquake. Radiating red lines indicating the threatened zones and a series of exclamation marks in yellow triangles.

“Unfortunately, owing to teething troubles with the system, humans soon learned to ignore these warnings. This lead to many preventable deaths.”

“REDLINE!” Riilg’r shrieked, hitting the cut-off button.

Soothing, meditative chimes sounded and relaxing light-shows filled the booth.

Th’k’x tried and failed to think of anything else but the implications of what she had seen. “They had so many wrong warnings… they didn’t bother with the real ones. They didn’t bother to play safely.”

“Yes,” cooed Riilg’r. “This is why humans are classified insane as a species.

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