Challenge #00928-B197: To See What is There
In a typical moment of human curiosity, when a rip in the fabric of space and time appeared in the lab, they did not explore it with all possible instruments, test dummies, cameras or animals. Instead, after poking it with a broom, and ensuring a potplant didn’t combust when put in for a minute, they stuck their heads in to see what was on the other side.
It was shaped roughly like a kumquat. If that kumquat was about five feet tall and capable of hovering in mid-air.
It hurt to look at it, but nobody could say why. Nobody could say, exactly, what colour it was or what seemed to be inside it.
“That’s it,” said Professor Ng. “One hole in our universe… leading into another.”
“How do we even test it?”
Sudden realisation hit the team like a truck. They had already spent their budget on the machines that kept the rift stable. What they had to hand was all they were getting for seven more months. And somehow, standing around and staring at the rift and occasionally going ‘whoah’ for seven months didn’t seem to justify the expense.
Kev was the one who volunteered to do the testing. He said it “was going to be as trippy as fuck.”
First, a broom that an unlucky janitor had left in the office. The handle received no observable harm. Neither did the bristles. The office aspidistra, duct taped to the broom, also survived unscathed.
Kev shrugged, muttered, “Yolo, dudes,” and stuck his head inside.
Nobody heard his screams. Nobody in this dimension, anyway.
The parts of his body still on the observable side of the universe sheared off as they left the range of the rift. Cleanly. Bloodlessly.
And it did the same to the parts of the Thing that came through from the other side, when Professor Ng slammed on the big, red button that shut everything down.
She knew it was the right thing to do, because she had seen it casually begin consuming what was left of Kev’s left hand.
So many questions paraded through her mind, but the one that escaped her mouth was a whispered, “How are we going to explain this to the investors?”
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Challenge #00927-B196: Just My Type
The opposite to the last one - a being that is unattractive to their own race that a human finds beautiful.
Rae usually disliked going into the lower-gravity realms of the station. She had a pathological dislike of insects that included antisocial actions like screaming and flailing if one of them touched her.
Only the Huf’nuf’ruf remained unoffended.
Her intent was to go down, do her job, and then retreat into one of the luxury spas to soak the imagined pricklyness of a million little claws off her skin. That had been a very good plan.
That is… until she met Xzzxzzxzz.
She was beautiful A mixture of iridescence and gossamer. All poetry in motion with a side of grace and poise.
This one, said Rae’s hind-brain, can touch me intimately for the rest of time.
“Can you being help?” said Xzzxzzxzz through her autotranslator.
“I think you’re gorgeous and I want to share time with you,” said Rae, almost hypnotised by her. “And this is a big deal for me because I’m usually entomophobic.”
Xzzxzzxzz looked around. “Many apologising. Friend circle is to hire you for joke?”
“What? No! I’m here to fix some plumbing. Promise. I am not in the entertainment or offending industry[1].”
“You is tell I am…” the translator hiccoughed. And burped out, in a default voice, “AESTHETICALLY PLEASING.”
“Yes. I mean. I did say that. I wasn’t paid to. This is no joke. You’re glorious.”
She ran her mandibles over her forelimb in nervousness. “Is lie,” she said. “My folk is call me… ugly. Carapace wrong colour. Too shiny in wrong spectrum.”
“Well I think you’re exactly the right kind of shiny,”
Rae smiled. “May I give you my contact details? You can ask me out any
time.”
[1] There is an overlap between the two.
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Challenge #00926-B195: In the Instincts of the Beholder
“I want a sci-fi series to have an alien race that literally every other race but humans thinks are the hottest fucking thing but it just completely goes over humans’ heads. Like instead of the Asari or some neon skinned space babe, every other race is just fucking fawning over some bizarre spider race. When humans don’t get it they’re just like, “What the fuck’s wrong with you? She’s hot, dude.””
(feel free to edit language)
Freshly-minted Ambassador Harry didn’t think this was going very well. So far, she’d made one of the artificial intelligences break down, and was accidentally involved in a mishap involving a member of the Consortium of Steam.
And now some highly-appreciated Ambassador had just arrived in a cloud of fawning and cooing. One ambassador even had hysterics and had to lie down.
Ambassador K’thrikk looked like some bizarre insectoid centaur, with a hairy, spider’s thorax and abdomen, and a thorax of a preying mantis. Its eyes were the dull black of empty space.
Her carapace was an unusual colour. As if puce and olive khaki had had an abomination of a love child, who was then sick all over the creature.
Harry found Ambassador K’thrikk to be both fearsome and revolting. She didn’t know whether she wanted to throw up, run away, or launch herself at its head and start bashing it with whatever came to hand.
She gripped her desk with white knuckles, grateful that it was bolted to the floor. Focussed intensely on her bladder and its role in being well-behaved in this very unfamiliar public arena. And also attempted to re-hydrate her tongue.
Her assistant, a Cuidgari administrator nicknamed Jamie, gave off cooing to check on Harry. “Are you well? Many people who view the Hek’rath for the first time are overcome with awe.”
Harry swallowed nervously. If she looked at her desk, she would not feel the urge to regurgitate every meal she’d ever had. “I’m overcome with the urge to kill it,” she whispered. “But I know that would be very bad.”
“I’d heard your species was insane, but I thought that was an exaggeration…”
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Challenge #00925-B194: The Feel When No Sex Life
http://thentheresthisspazz.tumblr.com/post/123284811011/mythological-creature-aus
Last one!
If you’ve already done them all, your challenge is to write a prequel to one of them
[AN: Last one, haimaee :3 ]
The social scene is really fucking awkward. So many of them expect so much of you and you never know who wants what until you’re rejected. And it hurts. It hurts worth than starving.
I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I really don’t. I come on strong and they run away. I try the gentle approach and they leave the club with someone else.
It’s like I’m invisible.
Or worse than scum.
Hi. My name is Kylie and I’ve been a succubus for three months.
If I was a guy, I could call myself ‘incel’ and have people to talk to about it. But no, I’m a girl. And that just makes me a ‘loser’.
I get bitter when I’m hungry.
And I am very hungry.
Yeah, you think being a succubus is fun, right? All the hookups you can eat? An absolute buffet of meaningless sex?
Wrong.
Try doing any of that when you’re like me. A little too chubby. A little too dark. A little too not-hourglass. A little too hairy. A little too nerdy, but never nerdy enough.
Even the pube-bearded trilby-wearing pick-up artists won’t fucking touch me. And I previously believed they were desperate.
No, seriously. It went like this:
Him: “You would look fantastic if you just dropped a few pounds.”
Me: “You’re absolutely right. You got any tips? I hear vigorous sex is a great fat-burner.”
Him: (Long, boggling stare) “You’re a creepy fucking slut.” (runs away)
And that’s the closest I ever got to eating properly.
And before you ask - no, I can’t just roam the streets waiting for someone to try raping me. I need actual lust, not a desire to “put me in my place”. I’ve tried it. It’s just not satisfying.
But the good news is, the rapist population of my area has hit rock bottom. There’s something about finding dead male husks drained of all life force, every single one with their dick out, that makes people think twice about raping.
Going to nerd cons in costume is not as effective as you might think. Especially the game cons. I get the nerd quiz to see if I’m a fake geek girl when most of the time these idiots wouldn’t know Duella Dent from Steampunk AU.
If I can’t answer their quiz, I’m a fake geek girl and get ostracised.
If I can ace it, I somehow just read that on a wiki to impress them and I’m still a fake geek girl.
If I know more than they do, I’m a fucking poser.
I can’t win.
Not even on OK Cupid. I don’t know. Maybe “Succubus seeks lust” is too forward.
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Challenge #00924-B193: Witnessed
http://thentheresthisspazz.tumblr.com/post/123284811011/mythological-creature-aus
Doot doot.
If you’ve already done all 7 by now, your challenge is to cross over two of the prompts into one.
[AN: OK for future reference and my current incompetence, I’m using a checklist.
[ ] (In/Suc)cubus
[X] Siren
[X] Werewolf
[X] Cursed animal
[X] Dragon
[X] Frog
[X] Vampire
thank you for your patience with me. Oh, and haimaee? Here’s more]
“No. Just no, okay? Francis Drake did not write Shakespeare’s plays. Elizabeth the First didn’t write his plays either. You know who really wrote them? William fucking Shakespeare! The whole ‘mystery’ about the authorship was started by a bunch of little gits in Eton who wanted to believe that only blue blood is capable of creating real art. They didn’t want to admit that William Shakespeare was an unwashed commoner who came from parents who could barely read!” Ed came to a panting halt. His normally pallid face held the vaguest hint of a blush. And since he never blushed, Courtney could guess that this was a source of agitation. “And he didn’t write the fucking Bible either. He was a fucking atheist.”
“Wow,” said Courtney. “You don’t even take history. Why so bent out of shape about stuff that doesn’t even matter?”
“Because it keeps happening. You don’t want to believe that black people built the pyramids, so you say aliens did it. You don’t want to believe that the same people who sacrificed humans on pyramids in South America were the ones who made the Nazca lines. Aliens again! You don’t want to believe that the son of a couple from Snitterfield not only wrote those magnificent plays, or coined half of the language you use to deride him… so you say someone else did it for him.“ Another pause so that Ed could recover his breath. “It’s everywhere. And I am sick of it. I want to stop people shitting on his art for as long as I can live.”
“Why do you even care?”
“Because he was my boyfriend! He was bi, an atheist, and the most gifted person with words that I have ever met. I only wish I could have convinced him to…” sigh. “Fuck.” Ed slumped back into his chair. “Please don’t call anyone about that, okay? I don’t want to spend another century in an asylum.”
Courtney boggled. “Another?”
“Every time I let it slip that I’m a vampire, they lock me up and I spend fifty to a hundred years trying to convince them that I’m telling the truth.” Ed sighed. “They’d probably dope me up and tie me down for years before they tried talking to me.”
“You don’t… kill anybody. Do you?”
A very sharp-toothed grin. “I used to keep pigs before I discovered coconut water. Thanks. That’s always the first question.”
“I’ve seen you in the sunlight…”
“Only underfed vampires get hurt by the sun. Coconut water. I literally live on the stuff. And before you ask, no, I do not get hurt by silver. It’s gold that hurts a vampire. Can’t be corrupted, so my kind has no defense.”
“I can’t use you as a source for my paper, can I?”
“No, for some reason, history professors really hate the people who lived in it.”
“Probably because you keep telling them they’re wrong.”
“That’d do it.”
[Muse food remaining: 6. Submit a prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories!]
Challenge #00923-B192: Unblinking Stare
http://thentheresthisspazz.tumblr.com/post/123284811011/mythological-creature-aus
Aaand again!
[AN: OK for future reference and my current incompetence, I’m using a checklist.
[ ] (In/Suc)cubus
[X] Siren
[X] Werewolf
[X] Cursed animal
[X] Dragon
[X] Frog
[ ] Vampire
thank you for your patience with me. Oh, and haimaee? Here’s more]
When you get down to it, there’s lots of things worse than being turned into a lizard. Bearded dragon, to be precise. Just so you know.
You know, once the dysmorphia wore off and I got used to it… it’s not that bad.
I can sleep through the night. Easily.
And -sure- Animal Control got on my case. They were right to. They didn’t know I was a human being in a lizard body. And it’s really hard to communicate when you’re concentrating on feeder crickets. Trust me on this.
Crickets are actually very tasty. Don’t give me that face.
Animal shelters are colder than they seem. Promise me that, if you want an animal companion, you are going to adopt one from the local shelter. You’ll be doing them a favour.
And speaking of favours… I owe my life to the rangy goth who volunteered there. He ripped admin up and down about the size of my tank (too small) the variety in my diet (crickets or starve) and how often and to what temperature my heat rock should be heated (three times a day, and warm but not scorching).
He bought me, in the end. And under that Nine Inch Nails T-shirt? My boy is stacked. Lithe, lean and supple. Just the way I used to like them when I was human. How I still like them.
Trev didn’t have a tank, but he did have a heat lamp that he jury-rigged to a timer. And I’m free to roam pretty much where I like.
The hunting’s good. It’s a cheap flat and the neighbours aren’t exactly the cleanest people in the world. The cockroaches are very well fed.
What? I’m a lizard, now. Get over it.
And… there’s a little unexpected bonus.
He likes to be nude when he’s home.
I could watch him going about his daily business forever. And at night when the heat lamp goes off full-time? I get to snuggle up against those lovely warm pecs.
Mmmmmmmmmm…
I don’t want him to kiss me. It would lead to way too many questions.
[Muse food remaining: 7. Submit a prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories!]
Challenge #00922-B191: Smoke Gets in Your Eyes
http://thentheresthisspazz.tumblr.com/post/123284811011/mythological-creature-aus
Keep going!
[AN: OK for future reference and my current incompetence, I’m using a checklist.
[ ] (In/Suc)cubus
[X] Siren
[X] Werewolf
[ ] Cursed animal
[X] Dragon
[X] Frog
[ ] Vampire
thank you for your patience with me. Oh, and haimaee? Here’s more]
He always came with the smell of smoke. Sharp and acrid. “Good morning, Princess.”
Emily automatically began making is Grande Soy Latte with a shot of chilli and three shots of caramel. “Is there any way I can convince you to quit the smokes? I don’t want to be treating your ass when I’m a doctor.”
“I promise, your highness, that I do not smoke and I have no plans to start.”
“Yeah? Really. You reek of smoke. Every day. Second-hand stuff is just as bad as the first-hand shit. Probably worse. I have graphs and icky photos to back me up on this.”
Tony laughed. “I have no doubt. But don’t worry. I’m fine.”
“Dude…” Emily began.
Tony looked around the shop. It was close to closing and nobody else was there. In a ripple of light, there was no longer a human standing in the shop and grinning, but a rather large green Dragon taking up a majority of the free space. “The only smoking I do is one hundred percent natural. I’m fine.”
And just like that, he was regular Tony again.
Emily handed over his coffee. “I’m guessing Dragons are fine with theobromine, too?”
“Dramn straight,” He gave her a 40% tip. “Though I should probably cut down on all the sugar. Thanks, Princess.”
[Muse food remaining: 8. Submit a prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories!]
Challenge #00921-B190: Heavenly Harmonies
http://thentheresthisspazz.tumblr.com/post/123284811011/mythological-creature-aus
Pick another one!
[AN: OK for future reference and my current incompetence, I’m using a checklist.
[ ] (In/Suc)cubus
[X] Siren
[X] Werewolf
[ ] Cursed animal
[ ] Dragon
[X] Frog
[ ] Vampire
thank you for your patience with me. Oyeah. And it’s not going to be Tailor Swift.]
“It’s all goooooooooooooooooooooooone to ruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuust…” Amy leaned her head back to rinse out the lather. “The mall shop’s a derelict skeleton, the disco’s dead and the hop is done. The raves are flickering out–”
WHUD!
Amy stopped singing to shriek and cover her private areas. “What the fuck, guys?”
No answer. Just the sounds of fighting going on, outside the bathroom.
She rinsed off in a hurry and emerged from the steam in just a bathrobe.
“Command us,” said Bob.
“We will do your bidding,” said Quentin.
And there were some of her neighbours, outside the window. Pounding ineffectively on the glass.
Shit. Fuck. She’d forgotten again.
Singing along was a bad idea when you were a siren. Stupid fucking little shop that was never there again. She’d just wanted to sing well. Not that well.
Another fine morning interrupted by telling everyone in her sphere of influence to ‘snap out of it’. Again.
Amy wondered if making her boss so understanding about it was cheating.
[Muse food remaining: 9. Submit a prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories!]
Challenge #00920-B189: Awkward Re-union
A weightier prompt than usual - MSA Lewis meeting his family again post-mansion. (If relevant, assume the long awkward conversations and explanations are done and the trio+dog are mystery buddies again.)
[AN: I have decided to name Mr and Mrs Pepper “Bel” and “Cayenne” for no real reason other than shits and giggles.]
Vivi awkwardly polished a cracked heart locket with her hands as Arthur drew all the curtains closed. “We… have some news…” Vivi began. She was tense. On edge. Sitting very stiff and formal on the couch where she once lounged on lazy Sundays to pummel Lewis at video games.
“This is one of your supernatural things, isn’t it?” Cayenne, always quicker off the mark than her husband, had never taken her gaze away from the locket as it turned and tumbled in Vivi’s hands.
Bel put it together when Arthur turned off the lights. “Oh, I think it is… And I think it might be Lewis.”
“Yeah. It’s me.” There was no elaborate lead in. He appeared out of the darkness with his pink pompadour aflame. In the same black suit they’d buried his body in. “I’m sorry, Mom. Dad. I couldn’t leave. And… I still don’t want to.”
The most horrifying thing, Arthur would say later, was that Cayenne was crying and Bel looked furious. When the Peppers reacted, it was usually the other way around.
“You’re sorry,” said Bel. “You’re sorry?”
“Dad… I…”
“After all we went through, you’re sorry?“
“…daddy…”
Bel Pepper launched himself across the room and landed in a hug. “Never be sorry! Never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever be sorry!“
Cayenne followed him, wrapping herself around them both. “You’re here. You came back. O my baby, my baby…”
Slightly irritated, yet relieved and accepting, “Mom…” Lewis returned the hug. “I’m still sorry I’m cold.”
The Peppers chorused a unanimous, “We don’t care.”
Vivi relaxed. “He’s tied to the locket. Currently. We’re… we’re still working on ways to help him corporealise.”
And it was only after a near-marathon catch-up session that the Peppers noticed that Arthur remained oddly silent. And spent most of his time clinging to Mystery.
But they knew that Arthur blamed himself for Lewis’ death. They would later find out that Lewis did the same.
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Challenge #00919-B188: Here’s to the Parents
a quote from historian Will Durant as I remember it. “Let me give tribute to all those Mothers, who over time dragged their children kicking and screaming through centuries of Civilization.” I presume he means the good Mums. Have fun.
“Say-shun! Say-shun!” Sprout ricocheted around the cabin, enjoying the free-fall before docking. “SAY-SHUN!”
Gavin fielded her on the fifth pass. “Settle down. Sprout. We gotta remember Rule One when we dock. What’s Rule One?”
“S'ay close.”
“That’s right. Good girl. We stay close. Now. Who do we stay close to?”
Sprout pointed at him.
“Yes! We stay close to each other. Now Papap has to talk to some boring people, so the first thing you’re gonna do is have an adventure in the kindergarten.”
Sprout frowned. “Rule one. S’ay close.”
“Well, Papap figured you wouldn’t like being in a boring room with boring grownups talking. Right?”
Sprout sucked her thumb as she thought this over. Eventually, she nodded.
“Right. It’s way more fun at kindergarten. There’s lots of toys, and lots of other children, and there’s fun big toys like see-saw’s and slippery slides and swings. If you’re lucky, there might even be a sand pit.”
Sprout looked skeptical. And no wonder. She’d spent almost her entire life aboard The Rusty Rustler. Big toys were unknown territory.
“And when we’re done, you can help Papap spend all his profits. I know you will. We’re gonna get new clothes, and good food. And we’re gonna put flowers on Momma’s grave. And if things go right? We’re gonna buy a place to live on the Station. Papap’s going to find some stay-in work. Won’t that be good?”
Sprout shook her head. “Wanna ‘vencha.”
“I know, darlin’. But adventuring on a solo scavenger ship is not good for a little Sprout. You need people to talk to other than your old Papap.”
She was three years old. And it hurt to see tears in her eyes. “Papap s'ay close. Don’ go ‘way.”
He’d told her that her Momma had ‘had to go away’ after she’d died. The only time Sprout remembered being on a station was when someone died and her short life changed forever. Gavin hugged her tight and kissed her cheek. “Papap’s gonna try his hardest, sweetie.”
*
“Her real name’s Sequoia, but I call her Sprout,” Papap told the strange lady. She wore a brown knit suit the colour of poops and smelled like flowers. It was a sticky, intense smell. The belt around her middle was hung with a variety of shiny, interesting objects that rattled whenever she moved.
Sprout clung resolutely to Papap’s leg. Her knuckles gone white. Papap’s hand was warm on top of her head. Comforting.
The stranger knelt. “Hello Sequoia? Will you let me call you ‘Sprout’ too?”
Sprout shook her head. She didn’t trust this stranger. She didn’t trust anyone. She didn’t even trust that the three bracelets on both ankles and one arm were going to keep her safe. She wanted Papap to stay close.
“Why don’t we have a look together? If you don’t like the looks of this place… I’m pretty sure the boring people won’t mind you colouring in a corner.”
Papap let her hang tight to him as they entered…
…a rainbow wonderland of play. Other brown-suited grownups stood watching or played with many other children. Some were her size. Some bigger. And some were smaller. They were all laughing and having fun. They were loud. It wasn’t the wrong kind of loud, the loud that made Papap put her in the pod until he took care of things. This was… fun loud. Like games of Tig or Sing As Loud As You Can Nights.
And they had an entire tub of tinkertoys!
Sprout let go of Papap’s hand.
“You wanna stay?”
Nod.
“Papap has to go and be boring. You gonna be okay?”
Nod. This was just like Papap’s EVA, when he went out the danger door to fix this. The only difference was that she didn’t have a comm link to hear his voice. But then, no comm link she knew of could combat the noise of so many children having fun.
Papap kissed her and let her kiss him back. “Stay safe, Sprout.”
“S’ay safe, Papap.”
*
Okay. Good news - this trip of urgency had been profitable enough for them to move on to the station. And there were enough low-risk jobs to pick from once Sprout and himself picked out a place, he could pick one of the dozens nearby.
And if he sold The Rusty Rustler… He’d have himself some good funds to help Sprout out.
One of the red-shirted Child Supervisors was waiting for him at the door. “O thank the Powers you’re here.”
Abject terror. “Something happen to Sprout?”
“Not… exactly…” She had made a terrifying mask out of play dough and scared some of the little ones. Drawn alarming pictures that had the novice Supervisors concerned until they learned that Sprout spent most of her life in space. Would not share the food she had made at cooking skills with the others because it was ‘for Papap’. Built an enclosure around herself and the foodstuffs with tinkertoys and threatened anyone who came close with a pair of craft scissors.
Gavin entered the playground to see Sprout huddled defensively in her tinkertoy cage. She’d been smart about it, anchoring parts into the larger structure of the play gym, and was ready to make a permanent mark with safety scissors.
“Sprout,” he sighed. “This is not playing nice.”
Now she cried. Between sobs, sounds that could have aligned with, “They wan’ed ‘a ead id all…” escaped her.
He took one, to calm her down and show that Papap got the food she made. Then he declared it so yummy that he just had to share it with everyone. Thus satisfying the needs of the curriculum.
Only after all feathers were settled and all messes tidied, did Sprout get the lecture about playing nice and being good. She would have to wait one day more for ice cream at Unsuitable Food Eat, and had to stick with Papap during the second part of the boring stuff. Sitting in a corner. Being quiet.
A sentence worse than death, according to Sprout. She spent a good ten minutes in that corner crying. He let her have three more in silence before he declared it was all right to sit on his lap.
Station Administration was understanding, at least. And the advised daily visits with a counsellor until Sprout was ready to socialise. And in the meantime, Gavin was going to make sure Sprout learned how to deal with their neighbours.
He hoped they were ready for her.
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