I can't be the only that can handle a migraine or nearly breaking a limb with a wince but am rolling on the floor if I stub my toe...right (please validate me in the comments 😅). I can only imagine what an alien species would think...
Human *coming back from cliffdiving because of course they never sit still*: Nah, I'll be fine.
Alien *seeing human holding his nose and...bleeding?*: what happened?
Human *shrugs*: I think there was a rock or something. Must have broken my nose.
Alien *is horrified*: we must take you to the medical wing-
Other human: Nah, this is like the rib thing.
Alien *eye witches*: Your nose heals on its own too?
Human: Yeah, I'll be all goo- Fuck! Shit!
Alien *rushing forward*: what's wrong?
Human *shifting onto one leg*: I hit my fucking shin on this table. Son of a bitch, that hurts.
Alien *staring*: does your...shin not heal?
Human *glaring*: it's not fucking broken.
Alien *barely processing*: Your broken bone...is fine but your non broken bone is too much pain?
Human *hisses in pain*: Yes!
***
If you want to check out “the rib thing” that is on my page! If you like this scene and want to see it as a full book (free with KU!) you can find those pinned to my page as well!
The biggest land animals on earth, elephants, can handle something being at a maximum of 7% alcohol by volume (abv)
Most species on earth can usually intake 1-3 abv.
With small species like rats only being able to intake alcohol in the milligrams range, at best 80mgs.
Meanwhile humans will sometimes knock back something that is 40 abv. We can drink a whole bottle of it and while we feel lousy the next day, we dont die from it.
If the majority is the precident, then a shot of vodka will be pretty much a death sentence for most alien species.
But there go the humans, just knocking it back and calling that a fun night.
So, most intelligent species get their common names by suggesting an idea themselves when they enter polite society. There’s a whole database for making sure there are no duplicates, and minimizing confusion. Sometimes their existing name for themselves makes it in, if it’s pronounceable enough for the average intelligent being (“humans”), and there’s no easily-agreed-on description for them. But usually the common name is a descriptive word (“Heatseekers”), or even a long phrase, shortened down for casual use (“The Mesmerizing Ones” / “Mesmers”). Sometimes a nickname becomes more popular than the official name. (Nobody calls Armorlites “The Mighty” unless they have to). At any rate, an intelligent race’s common name generally tells you something about the way they see themselves.
Which made it all the funnier when I found out that the gigantic elephantlike folks I hadn’t seen in ages were officially called “Those Who Are the Correct Size.” Sizers for short. They were the biggest aliens I’d interacted with personally, and it seems they had opinions about that.
“How do you suppose that conversation went down?” I asked Mur as we walked. The raised sidewalk was impressively sturdy, and I felt confident that I could carry on a conversation while carrying the package for delivery. The fact that there was a clear wall instead of railings helped. It was a long drop to the ground.
“The diplomats probably thought it was funny,” Mur said from behind me, making quiet tentacle-step sounds. “Or these folks were pushy about it, but they always seem pretty easygoing to me.”
Sizers ambled past on the main road, behemoths in shades of sunset pink, largely ignoring the smaller citizens on the walkway at head level. None moved with any particular urgency. They probably would have noticed if someone was in stepping-on range, but thankfully the architecture had been modified to reduce that risk. Raised walkways lined every building, some leading to ramps and stairways while others had their own little doors cut into the walls.
It was all very thoughtful. I wondered how many accidents had happened before those alterations were put in.
Mur suddenly said, “Grab on!” then the walkway shuddered.
I clutched the top of the railing-wall, looking about wildly for the danger. It wasn’t hard to spot. A handful of babies — toddlers the size of a city bus — had tumbled against the side of the building. The street below us was now a riot of clumsy pink limbs and flapping orange ears, the babies squalling and whapping each other with their trunks. Those trunks came in pairs, top and bottom, and their tails were similarly grabby. These little ones didn’t know how to use any of them yet.
An adult Sizer waded in and separated the children, calming them with strokes of his own trunks and with rumbling words I couldn’t hope to interpret. But the walkway was stable now.
A giant eye focused on the pair of us, then the Sizer switched to a more recognizable language. “Look, you almost made some of the littles fall. Apologize for scaring them.”
A chorus of badly-pronounced apologies drifted up to us.
I waved a hand. “Apology accepted! No harm done.”
Mur agreed, his tone a bit forced.
The adult shooed the children away down the road, keeping them corralled between his trunks in the center of the road while they stumbled eagerly.
Mur collapsed dramatically into a squidlike puddle of relief. “I am so glad they’re leaving. What absolute menaces.”
“Ah, they can’t help it,” I said. “Cute little things. Well, relatively speaking.”
“Not the word I’d use,” Mur said, pulling himself together and getting upright.
“I know, none of them are little.”
“I mean cute! What is cute about those terrors?” he demanded, pointing with a tentacle to where they disappeared in the crowd. One of the babies was spinning its top trunk like a propeller, and another had just tripped over its own feet.
“They’re adorable,” I told him. “You saw them shuffling around looking shy and saying ‘sowwy.’”
Mur squinted up at me. “You and I have very different ideas of what should be adored. Do humans always appreciate other species’ infants?”
“Well,” I said, thinking. “Probably, yes. Somebody once explained it to me that since our own young are helpless for so long, we got evolutionarily overclocked for thinking babies are cute, just to make sure we take care of them. That might have spilled over to other things.”
“That explains a lot,” Mur said. He stepped past me to lead the way. “I remember Zhee losing a bet about whether you would pet that spiny little creature a while back.”
“It was precious once it calmed down!”
“According to you.”
“It had a cute little face, and made the most charming little noises,” I insisted.
“Even though it looked nothing like your own species, huh?”
“I can’t believe you don’t think it was cute, honestly.”
The conversation lasted until we reached our destination: a door with the word “Medicinery” written somewhat clumsily above it. When Mur pushed on the door, it swung open as easily as a cat flap.
Our walkway continued along the interior wall, giving us a good view of several adult Sizers waiting patiently in line while others moved about behind a counter. It was all similar to any number of other places I’d been, just at a much larger scale.
Since the walkway only led in one direction, we went that way: down a bit of a slope to a wider platform at the end of the counter. One Sizer saw us coming and finished talking with a customer, moving over to greet us instead of the next in line. A different receptionist called over that person instead.
“Hello!” she said, deep-voiced and cheery. “What can I do for you today?”
I lifted the box. “We have a delivery for you. Medicine, I believe.”
“Oh yes, I heard we were running low on something!” She reached out her trunks for it and I handed it over, feeling like I was faced with a pair of animated engine chutes. I’d seen Mimi working on parts of our own ship this size.
While she set the box aside, I got out the payment tablet with Mur whispering unnecessary reminders of how to set it on magnified holographic mode. This particular client had no chance of being able to sign for the delivery at our scale.
She made an elegant swooping signature in midair, then typed in her other identifying information on the holographic keyboard. “There you go! Thanks for bringing this. We don’t get too many patients your size, but it’s important that we have the proper medicine in stock for when we do. Un-expired, even!”
“Yes, that part’s important!” I agreed.
She asked, “I hope the walk over was agreeable? Everything accessible and in good repair?”
“It was fine!” I told her, folding away the holographics. “Great setup you have here.”
Mur grumbled an objection, but not loud enough for the Sizer to pick up.
“So glad to hear it,” she said to me. “It’s the least we can do to keep you little folks out of harm’s way. Wouldn’t want anyone to step on your cute little heads!”
Mur made a snorting noise while I answered diplomatically. “Our cute little heads appreciate it.”
She flapped her ears and waved a trunk in body language that might have suggested she was embarrassed about her own choice of phrasing.
Mur spoke up. “I have a quick question, if you don’t mind.”
I raised an eyebrow while the Sizer encouraged him to ask his question.
“We were having a conversation on the way here about the respective adorableness of other species,” Mur said, flipping a tentacle between the two of us. “Is there a general opinion among Sizers about small folks being cute?”
She definitely looked embarrassed now, waving her trunk and glancing away like an elderly aunt who’d said something improper. “Oh, well, some definitely are if you ask me, but I can hardly speak for everyone. Some, yes! With your cute little heads and tiny eyes. Absolutely precious.”
She was looking at me. Mur’s head was shaped like a squid; hardly little.
“Anyways!” she said, standing up straighter. “That hardly factors into making sure everyone has a safe route through town, without a danger of getting stepped on. I’m very glad you found the walkways acceptable. Thank you again for the delivery!”
“It was our pleasure,” I said.
Mur added, “Have a nice day!” but she was already moving on to the next Sizer in line.
I met Mur’s eye, holding in a snicker, and headed for the door. I made it outside before collapsing into laughter.
“See, it’s not just humans!” I exclaimed. “She thinks we’re cute!”
“I can’t believe it,” Mur said. “She really does. And the others probably do too.”
I pointed a finger at him, still laughing. “And she doesn’t think you’re cute!”
Mur folded half of his tentacles, standing tall on the other ones. “That’s up for debate.”
“We have to tell Zhee. He’ll think this is hilarious.”
Mur agreed, “He really will. Pity he didn’t come today. I wonder if the Sizers would think he looks like an adorable little youngling too.”
“Probably not, if I had to guess.” I started the long walk back to our ship. “My species isn’t historically charmed by exoskeletons, and theirs may not be either. But who knows? We can always call them up and ask.”
“I am absolutely not doing that.”
“Yeah, me neither. But it would be funny.”
~~~
These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.
Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.
The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).
Funnily enough, when they first meet past the edges of the Sol system, the aliens like the humans.
None of the humans were prepared for this.
The humans prepared for decades- for centuries! to contact life out in the black, and be judged harshly for their past.
The aliens, almost to the one, seemed delighted with humanity and everything they entailed. Good, bad, and ugly.
“You see, we heard you calling out for long, long, long… we could not find where you called out from. Now we have! You called for so long, and now we meet you! It is good to know you! We have tried so hard to find you and say, Hello!”
The messages Earth sent out, just in case there was anyone out there to hear, to extend reassurance that they simply were not alone was received always with delight. And sparked a soft race to find the origin of such a kind and curious signal into the vastness of the universe.
We often don't think about it much, but humans are everywhere. In every crevice of the Earth, in every climate, in every region, EVERYWHERE.
If there is a location on Earth, then there is probably at least 1 human living there. Or at the very least a human who has lived there in the past. Have we ever thought just how batshit insane that is?
Think about how difficult that is to do, for a species to be on every continent, on every biome, on islands, in deserts, in jungles, on freaking ANTARCTICA. We're the only species on Earth that does that.
I genuinely wonder if aliens are like this too, or maybe they would be weirded out by this.
Alien: "Oh my! By the great zorp you things are everywhere!"
Human: "Yeah...we kinda tend to do that."
Alien: "Oh! But you're not in the frozen wasteland at the south pole of your world!"
Human: "No, we are."
Alien: "Oh! But you're not in those super dangerous mountains!"
H: "There, too."
A: *visibly frustrated*
A: "But you're not in the middle of the ocean?"
H: "You're not going to believe this."
A: "How?! They are so far away from any major landmass! How did you even get there?!"
Things I think aliens would find cute/endearing about humans: Part 3
Hop Scotch
Uuvadas | Log ⚭◼︎: human games
Our vessel has a courtyard of sorts, an artificial habitat complete with various forms of plant-life from the planets of those residing on the vessel. It is meant to boost morale and productivity, and provide leisure to the crew members.
One human who goes by Murphy, decided that he wanted to do a 'social experiment'. Given that I am on this vessel to study humans, I decided to take advantage of his intent.
Murphy took up a stone from one of the rock beds and scraped it across the pavement to create a series of squares and human numeric symbols. Once this was completed, Murphy departed from the courtyard and said he would return when it was more sufficiently occupied. I decided I would do the same, I wanted to see what would happen next.
I joined Murphy in one of the several seating arrangements and began to observe.
The first human to come across the symbols glanced down at the footpath, but kept walking. Murphy expelled air from his nasal passages at this. The first attempt have been a failure. (It is also worth noting that humans are bipedal without stifled joints, and thus have non-standard locomotion. Most humans also have no more than 2 arms, and as such are considered to be a disabled class. The humans themselves do not know this, but many accommodations were made to this vessel in preparation to their arrival.)
The second human who came across the symbols paused before reaching them, before walking strangely over each square. I looked at Murphy, who shrugged and said, "Eh, she's got a bad hip."
I did not understand what this meant, but continued observing.
The third human who approached stopped completely, before raising one leg and jumping with the other onto the first of the symbols. This immediately caught my attention. The human jumped again, planting both feet onto the ground, before jumping again with just one. The human alternated quickly between these motions before finishing. Murphy slapped his palms together loudly (this is a human expression of appreciation, of what I am unsure) and the other human expressed happiness, and nodded at Murphy before going on their way.
The next human who came along was conversing with a non-human crew member, but stopped the conversation to do the same action as the previous human. The action was completed exceptionally quicker, which lead Murphy to again slap his palms together.
I watched for the next hour as most of the human crew members who came across the etched symbols did more or less the same action, jumping across the squares until they reached the far side of the drawing. Murphy, who had been keeping count, proudly declared that out of the 20 humans who passed the etchings, 14 had partook in the strange jumping ritual.
"What is the significance of this?" I asked Murphy, who raised and lowered his shoulders (this is a non-committal gesture among humans), "I dunno, I guess I'm bored."
I've found that for the most odd of human behaviors, boredom seems to be a common motivator.
End of log.
Previous Entry:
*pat pat*
Uuvadas | Log ○■ɛ: more odd human behavior
I have observed a gesture that seems to be shared among the humans aboard this vessel
been binge reading all those alien meet human posts recently and it made me wonder how aliens would react to human fear/hurt.
humans are fragile.
humans are fragile and somehow, by attitude alone they somehow manage to outgrow the confines of their physical bodies. Their bravery and intelligence make them seem so so much bigger than they actually are. Fancy weapons and body Armour and their ability to work in groups up to such an extreme makes them seem like they're more than they are. They'll packbond with anything too- too friendly for their own good somehow it never comes back to bite them.
But they really are just flesh and bone and heart under all that armour.
Imagine a human gets hurt. They get hurt and they get scared. So, so scared that they won't let anyone near them. It was like watching a wild animal, primal and instinctual in a way that humans rarely ever show. Sure, they get protective but they still keep their head on, still think it through. But they were just doing things right now- punching things with a bony fist that looked somehow smaller now. Humans make ot a point to go against anything that should be their nature, seeing them lean into that deep seated natural instinct to fight was chilling to say the least.
They were bleeding, bleeding too much to be any type of good, but they couldn't help. Its only after they pass out from blood loss do the aliens take them too the medbay. The confines of their body finally catching up to them in a way that aliens forgot it could. Usually when injured, humans will tough it out. 'Adrenaline' and spite spurring them on to keep going. To see them have to give up was unnerving.
They're better in less than an hour, like nothing had happened at all. Still, the crew of aliens tread on egg shells for an entire month after the encounter. If they hover a little closer to their token human during fights after that due to the new and old knowledge of their humans fragility, the human can only sigh and hope that they forget.
(This is just me exploring the idea of how it would go if someone requested permission to get a dog) (ft no names again bc I can't be bothered rn)
Edit: upon rereading this in the morning I've realized that the idea was floating around my head bc the post I reblogged before this so credit for inspo to them
----
Alien: Human.
Human: Yes?
Alien: Why have you requested permission to obtain a parasite?
Human: ....I haven't????
Alien: Ooh have I perhaps been mistaken? You were not the one who requested a small lifeform of the Canis lupus familiaris classification from your home planet be brought aboard?
Human: ....What's the common name for that classification?
Alien: Domestic dog
Human: Wait yeah that was me then... but they're not parasites?
Alien: There is no need to lie to me human for I have done the research.
Alien: You poor creatures have been subjected to harrasment from these lifeforms occupying your homes for far too long and I have been lead to understand that your species does not benefit from them.
Human: .... no wait we do benefit
Alien: Some of you do, having the creatures assist you with minute tasks, but the majority those who are being subjected to their exist are in parasitic relationships simply providing them with food and housing.
Human:.... Actually they do provide a essential service to all the people housing them.
Alien: And what is that???
Human: They make us happy
Alien:.... Is this the stockhold symdrome I have heard of?
Human: What no
Human: where did you even hear about that haha
Alien: That is unimportant. What is important is that you are safe here human, there is no need to return to a parasitic relationship.
Human: No I was being serious about them making us happy
Human: well, to explain it better they generally help us be more emotionally stable which is positive for our mental health
Alien: Oh I see, I will have to ensure that no occupants aboard the ship would be harmed by sharing the space with a 'dog' first, but I may approve your request then.
Alien: unfortunately, upon futher review it appears atleast one member of the ship is, as your species would put it, 'allergic' to 'dogs' so your request has been denied.
Human: Aww, that sucks. Well, thanks for letting me know anyways.
Alien: ....this came as a suprise to you?
Human: Not really, I mean I kind of figured at least one person aboard would probably be allergic.
Alien: NOT REALLY??? HUMAN YOU ARE THE ONE WHO WOULD BE HARMED BY THE ADDITION OF A 'DOG' TO THE SHIP! YOU WERE THE FIRST PERSON'S PAPERWORK I CHECKED FOR ANY ALLERGENS AND ONE OF THE FIRST THINGS ON THERE WAS THE WORD 'DOGS'!
Alien: I MEAN REALLY WHAT POSSIBLE REASON COULD LEAD YOU TO REQUEST TO BRING ABOARD A LIFEFORM WHOSE EXISTENCE YOU ARE ALLERGIC TOOO?
Human: OOHH RIGHT, I forgot I put that on there. I'm not really that allergic anyways I just tend to get a bit of a runny nose and a few hives.
Human: I actually had one named Web growing up and I'm still here aren't I?
Human: As for why I want one the reason I gave you still stands lol, it would just make me happy.
Alien:....
Human:.....
Human: Soooo, if i'm the only person on board who is allergic, can we get one? :)
You know how certain tastes allow you to know that you shouldn't eat something, though humans are weird so we do it anyways?
Was thinking how certain foods are bad for animals, like citrus foods
What if aliens' sense of taste indicated things that could kill them
What if to aliens the entire flavor profile we call sour meant poison
What if a human walked up to one of these aliens and took a bite out of a lemon slice without breaking eye contact
Could be a dominance move, a lead into a prank, or just being oblivious that from the aliens' point of view the human was attempting suicide right in front of them when the human is just a weirdo who eats lemons
These are the things I think of when I should be sleeping
(This is just me exploring the idea of how it would go if someone requested permission to get a dog) (ft no names again bc I can't be bothered rn)
Edit: upon rereading this in the morning I've realized that the idea was floating around my head bc the post I reblogged before this so credit for inspo to them
----
Alien: Human.
Human: Yes?
Alien: Why have you requested permission to obtain a parasite?
Human: ....I haven't????
Alien: Ooh have I perhaps been mistaken? You were not the one who requested a small lifeform of the Canis lupus familiaris classification from your home planet be brought aboard?
Human: ....What's the common name for that classification?
Alien: Domestic dog
Human: Wait yeah that was me then... but they're not parasites?
Alien: There is no need to lie to me human for I have done the research.
Alien: You poor creatures have been subjected to harrasment from these lifeforms occupying your homes for far too long and I have been lead to understand that your species does not benefit from them.
Human: .... no wait we do benefit
Alien: Some of you do, having the creatures assist you with minute tasks, but the majority those who are being subjected to their exist are in parasitic relationships simply providing them with food and housing.
Human:.... Actually they do provide a essential service to all the people housing them.
Alien: And what is that???
Human: They make us happy
Alien:.... Is this the stockhold symdrome I have heard of?
Human: What no
Human: where did you even hear about that haha
Alien: That is unimportant. What is important is that you are safe here human, there is no need to return to a parasitic relationship.
Human: No I was being serious about them making us happy
Human: well, to explain it better they generally help us be more emotionally stable which is positive for our mental health
Alien: Oh I see, I will have to ensure that no occupants aboard the ship would be harmed by sharing the space with a 'dog' first, but I may approve your request then.
So I've decided to finally contribute to the "Humans are space orcs thing." I've seen other posts talk about pets but not dogs.
Just imagine a human hugging and petting a big dog, talking in a baby voice. I'm willing to bet the aliens would be terrified because this creature has sharp teeth, killer instincts, and better sense than us. But we cuddle them and treat them like sweet little things (because they so are).
Dogs are also crazy hunters, and I can picture an alien running from one, scared to death, and the sweet pup just thinks it's playtime.
Exhibit A-
(Human) Ann was sitting in the cafeteria on the ship. Just eating soup and chilling. Meylok runs in, screaming in the alien equivalent. They jump on top of the counter while Ann's dog, Jesse, runs around with his tail wagging.
"That creature is trying to attack me!" Meylok says, crouched in a defense position.
Ann sighs, stands up, and says, "No, he just wants to play." Then she runs after the dog, getting him even more hyped up.
They run in circles around the room for a bit while Meylok cowers on the counter. Eventually, Jesse turns around and jumps on Ann, knocking her down. Ann laughs as the dog licks her face.
"Meylok, I promise, it's fine. He won't hurt you." She reassures him while sitting up, still petting Jesse.
"You're sure?"
"100%."
Meylok climbs down and cautiously walks towards the dog, who's now sitting, tail thumping on the tile floor.
"He won't bite," Ann says, "Unless there's danger."
Ann shows Meylok how to pet Jesse, who, after five seconds, tackles the alien to the ground and begins licking their face. Ann laughs.
"Dogs are great pets," Ann informs them, helping Meylok up, " And great predators. They have better senses than humans and killer instincts. But, if you give 'em food, they'll love you."
"I don't think I'm a fan of dogs."
"Well, there are smaller versions, but they are nippy."
"What's-" They get cut off by a small chihuahua who runs into the cafeteria, nipping at Meylok. They run out and Ann laughs.
Her partner, Winston, walks in, seeing Meylok run out, his chihuahua chasing them.
"What's up with that?" They both laugh and live a happily ever after.
When I was first assigned to work with humans I did as I would with any new species and researched their customs.
What I found was a bewilderingly huge list of rules. Not just the usual atmospheric and dietary rules, but complex customs, beliefs, security, and safety. There was too much to take in.
Surely, a species with so many complex rules must be bureaucrats and negotiators. Why would an exploration team need beings suited to treaties and trade deals?
Then the team of humans arrived. They arrived with contraband, non-regulation uniforms, and their very greetings went against their written customs.
I threw out my research, convinced it was all wrong.
Only much later, after discovering the distillation equipment in the secondary laboratory (horrifically, I must report humans ingest alcohol for fun - I swear by my clutch mates this is true) did the senior human tell me an uncomfortable truth.
"You gotta know the rules before you can break them. Nah, seriously, pretty much every one of our rules comes from someone doing something stupid and getting themselves killed "
They have so many rules not because they are bureaucrats but because they know they are so reckless. Rules are the only chance they have of species survival.
It puts their regulations and customs in a more terrifying light. Especially after they told me the reason they shake hands upon meeting is to ensure neither is holding a weapon in their dominate hand.
"You swim well for your limb configuration but you will never be as fast in water as a Majoriranji."
Mo agreed with a nod. "They have fins, it's an unfair contest really."
"Nacbaqurs climb cliffs better than humans."
"Longer limbs, more fingers, that's no surprise. I know some elite climbers who could keep up but mostly ture enough."
"Chexits run much faster."
"Ah," Mo raised a finger. "They run on four legs, different configuration, unfair comparison. "
"My point is still valid. And you don't fly either."
"Mmm, no," Mo stopped to consider that one. "I don't think we have a winged ancestor. I have been sky diving, though, so I'm sure we missed out there."
"Sky diving? No, I have no wish to know. My question is this, why are you so feared? You cannot swim like a Majoriranji, or climb like a Nacbaqur, or run like a Chexit. Can you do anything special? Why should anyone be scared of humans?"
"Is that why you captured us? That's what you want to know?" Mo smiled as he leaned back in his chair. He had been afraid. Now he was amused.
He knew rescue was on the way. Just before the invaders managed to grab him and the other researchers, they were able to send a distress call. The Earth Alliance took attacks on their people seriously, they knew swift responses discouraged casual piracy.
"Okay, you'll probably be dead soon anyway so I'll give you a freebie. We're not the fastest swimmers, but most of us can swim and dive, and we can all hold our breath. We're not the fastest climbers, but our ancestors lived in trees, tall canopy plants, we can all climb. We're not the fastest runners, but we're not bad in a sprint, and we'll still be going hours after your fancy fast runners have collapsed and died of exhaustion. We don't have to be the best at one thing when we can be pretty good at just about everything."
I don't know if anyone said this before, but, I think the one thing that would put the fear of an alien god into an alien would be just how territorial humans are.
Humans generally have small territories tightly packed against others, sometimes even on top of each other. They are social creatures, after all, and seem to enjoy inviting each other to their territories that might even contain other species!
So, you would think they would welcome other visitors, right?
Wrong. Humans are wildly territorial to the point even something as harmless as a fruit fly is murdered on sight. Then, surely they must allow other predators that repel such creatures, right? Wrong again, even 'useful' ones likes spiders are shown no mercy.
Alien: I apologize but I'm struggling to grasp this concept. You said you killed that arachnid as there was a possibility it could come in contact with your sleeping quarters. Doesn't your feline companion frequent there? I'm sure it couldn't do more damage than an apex predator?
Human: Uhh, okay let me rephrase that; it isn't about coming in contact with my stuff. It's about me allowing it. Mr. Pickle Jar is allowed to be here and touch my things, that spider isn't. So, it needs to die.
Alien, writing DO NOT TOUCH ANYTHING UNLESS SAID OTHERWISE in big bold letters in the notepad: Ah, I see. Thanks for sharing.
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