Challenge #03065-H157: All Life Feeds on Death
“How do you think I feel seeing you eat a salad??”
A die-hard vegan’s ship crash-lands on a planet that’s what appears to almost be a haven world, lots of small animals, lots of plant life, absolutely paradise. Except…that the vegan sees a plant suddenly snap shut when an animal gets too close and the animal is eaten.
The cogniscents there are green, skin, hair, eyes, and they move with a slight rustling. They are descendant of carnivorous plants that have learned to become intelligent to survive. – Fighting Fit
Some cogniscent beings just naturally come to blows. Be it conflicting biological needs, conflicting environmental necessities, or conflicting ideologies. It’s just better for everyone if they’re kept at least forty SDU[1] away from each other at all times. Some… do not have that option before they discover each other.
Human Lass was from the Ethical Superiority of Vigann. Ze had left to become a missionary of sorts and spread the good word of a clean, plant-based existence. Once the entire universe was completely in harmony, there would be no more need for wars, violence, or any nasty feelings at all. It was a lot of work to reform the universe, and Vigann made sure it was always sending out explorers to spread the good word.
It was astonishing how many cogniscents refused to listen to it. They used utter nonsense like the phrase “obligate carnivore”, or “unsustainable aspirations”, or “ridiculous pseudoscience.” Lass was not discouraged. For every two hundred die-hard unbelievers, there were as many as seven who could be convinced to begin cleansing themselves of the alleged necessity of animal abuse and the products made from it. That was until she crashed on the Phloranian colony P'taal.
[Check the source to see the full story]
(Source: peakd.com)
Challenge #02922-G365: Danger in Ignorance
It is the modern era. Faerie folk and other such beings are considered nothing but old stories. But, sometimes, stories are real. She was born with the gift to see the supernatural for who they were even if they hid amongst the normal modern world. She could understand their languages no matter how old or obscure it was. And read their words. From the most ancient to the most modern. And yet, as she grew older, she learned this was something handed down from mother to daughter for generations. An ability now quite rare as most of those that once had those gifts were often destroyed or otherwise came to harm long before they could bear children. Her family being one of the last. – Anon Guest
There are places where a certain kind of person can glimpse into the Mythical. Some call them crazy. Some presume they’re on drugs. In recent centuries past, they called them witch and killed them without mercy. Those with more than a modicum of sense learned to pay lip service to the dominant way of thought, and whisper to their gifted young to not talk about that with anyone who wasn’t safe.
Of course I won’t tell you how to find them. There’s still people who will kill them for what they do. As for what they do? They stop incursions. They solve problems. They keep the peace. There are, after all, other worlds that others can’t see. Without those who can glympse, the world would be utter chaos. Well. More utter chaos than what’s normal for these days.
You wouldn’t expect to find a fae infestation in Bumblefudge[1], Kansas. Melanie blamed those “cutesy” fairy doors people added into their gardens for the “aesthetic”. Some people just weren’t careful about who they invited. Since this was an especially dry region, they had put it into a rock garden with some succulents. A blessed rock garden, for criminy’s sake! All you needed was the capstones and you had a standing circle! Right on the ley lines, too. Urgh. Karens were so gosh-darn fudging moronic sometimes.
[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for a link to the rest of this story, and details on how to support this artist. Or visit peakd (dot) com (slash at) internutter for the stories at their freshest]
Challenge #02889-G332: Not Approved Progress
Now we are all sons of bitches - Kenneth Bainbridge, after testing the first nuclear bomb – Anon Guest
[AN: I’ve been made aware of the Shiva quote, but that happened after the detonation in war as far as I recall]
Destruction. Devastation. Brutal elimination of the enemy, their buildings, their society. That has always been the ultimate goal of war. Winning, however, has gone further than razing the enemy castle and salting the ground so that they can no longer prosper. It has escalated beyond melting the ground of the capital and rendering a significant area around it deadly to anyone who dared set foot on it.
Behold. A tiny vial containing a cubic centimetre of an apparently still beige substance. The vial is thin glass and can be concealed inside a pocket or a hand or… just about anywhere. It is worse than deadly, long term. It is the worst weapon ever made. The general looking at it is singularly unimpressed.
“The hell is that?” said General Balana. “You said you had a new WMD. This is a toy.” He picked it up and made to pitch it into the disposal, but the egghead in the white coat gently removed it from his hands.
[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for a link to the rest of this story, and details on how to support this artist. Or visit peakd (dot) com (slash at) internutter for the stories at their freshest]
Challenge #02551-F361: You Hear Me
“Get back to work and if I see you with something in your ears again you’re fired!”
The human just stared blankly
“Do you understand me? Is your universal translator even working?”
It took the human a moment then wrote something down
‘My translator is with my hearing aids you took’ – Anon Guest
In all things, communication is important. This is why any given traveller will find far more accessibility options available in Galactic space than many other places. It is also why many Alliance polities despise working with, or for, any of the Greater Deregulations. Mostly because those in positions of power in any given Greater Deregulation has never been very involved in communication. They insist on yelling at people until they give up.
They also insist on applying their moral values to everything that offends them[1] and yelling about it until they get their way. Such an exchange has already happened between CEO of CEO’s Hal E. Burridin and one of the Alliance’s Ronin Humans named Quo. Unbeknownst to Hal, Human Quo is wearing assistive devices. One among many that help those with hearing disorders. Hal has just processed these particular devices as ‘headphones’. Let’s watch the chaos.
“YOU!” Hal bellowed, marching over to the offending Human. “Are you listening to music on company time?” Without any heed to Galactic laws concerning approved personal interactions, interference with physical being, assault, and removal of equipment, Hal reached up and removed what he saw as an offense. “If I see you with something in your ears again, you’re FIRED!”
[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for a link to the rest of this story, and details on how to support this artist. Or visit steemit (dot) com (slash at) internutter for the stories at their freshest]
Challenge #02225-F035: That They May See
Words cut deeper than any weapon ever could. Thankfully, they also heal better than any medication. – Anon Guest
Everyone has words they hate having flung at them. Slurs, for instance. For the linguists among us, it may be fascinating to analyse how the words we choose to hurt others with show how those who arm evaluate those they see as less. However, those words still hurt. Others may choose to glide past them. Having never had such words used against them, they fail to believe how they can be harmful.
Hag stones are made by the steady and repetitious dripping of water on a single stone. One drop alone doesn’t make a hole, but rather thousands. A marching brigade of soldiers can make a bridge collapse where one soldier marching alone would never have caused harm. A single grain of arsenic may be a tonic, but a certain amount can kill. The devil is in the dosage…
Individually, analytically, a single word has no weight. It has no sharpness. It cannot possibly hurt. Yet they do. Flung endlessly like grains of sand against the stone of one’s soul, they can wear a being down and cause cracks or even collapse. Should you doubt, pick a word you personally find insulting to you and devise a means to have it flung at you for days. Weeks. Years. See how much it hurts after experiencing the constant abrasions of its passing. Or, you could take another path.
[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for a link to the rest of this story, and details on how to support this artist. Or visit steemit (dot) com (slash at) internutter for the stories at their freshest]
Dear people who have nothing better to do than put hate in other folks’ inboxes:
There is a “block” button on tumblr for a reason.
If someone is saying something you don’t like on tumblr, you can block them. Of course, they can go on saying whatever they damn well please [which, as I understand, is a constitutional right in the USA where most tumblrites are] but the bonus is - if you block them, you never see it,
You can even attempt to report them for harassment.
That is, if you think ‘criticism’ is harassment, or 'standing up for themselves’ is abuse or other certain symptoms of being a special snowflake, then you can report… but the admins will probably ignore you.
FYI, the admins also tend to ignore reports of racist idiots by their victims, too. You get to play “who’s the most oppressed”! Yay! [Hint: if your skin’s paler than the aged pages of a book, it isn’t you]
And lastly, I am not a special snowflake. I am a purple monkey from the vicinity of Betelgeuse. Your arguments are therefore invalid. You have a very nice planet, but these h'yumin things keep mucking it up by pretending they know what’s right for every(one/thing) else.
Goodnight.
[PS: Of course I’m not talking about you.You’re obviously the kind of open-minded creative person that tumblr naturally attracts. Therefore, ignore this post.]