Earth is Space Australia

This blog is dedicated to stories written about the hypothetical interactions between humans and aliens.

[space-australia-stories]

War Forever

this is inspired by all the europa-posting that’s happening on twitter rn. i know it has all started to settle down by now, but i still wanted to throw my hat in the ring. enjoy! and war forever!

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Endless ice, endless cold, and Jupiter’s endless red storm, an eye watching us indifferently as the moon precesses in its endless orbit. This is life on Europa.

We’ve long forgotten warmth, we’ve long forgotten comfort. Every day is an endless struggle to survive, against both the harsh conditions of Jupiter’s moon itself, and the mysterious creatures that seem to spawn endlessly from the ice.

There wasn’t always war on Europa. Long ago, we sent satellites and probes for science, in our lonely search for microscopic life. Europa was deemed lifeless. At least, that’s what they reported to the public.

Then, we sent drills, and the first humans to ever reach further than Mars. It was to harvest the minerals from Europa’s silicate-rich surface, or so they say.

That was when the first Jovians appeared, as we later started calling them. Creatures unlike anything in all of our science-fiction. They were fast, unnatural, undetectable until they were nearly on top of you, rearing back to spear you clean through with their impossibly sharp legs.

Then, they started sending soldiers along with the drillers, for protection, they said. Never brought anyone back, though. Soon, the soldiers outnumbered the drillers. Soon, no drillers were being sent there at all.

It’s for our protection, they said. If we abandon the moon, the Jovians will just follow us back to Earth, and we want to protect all those innocent lives don’t we? Besides, we still need those minerals, and since you soldiers are there already, why don’t you do a little drilling, as well?

That is what they told us, and so we fight, and we drill, and we freeze to death, and we bleed out, but we continue on.

Some have started to see beauty in this suffering. Some say we were always meant to be here, under Jove’s watchful red eye. Our red blood is proof of that. Some say He called us here to eradicate the creatures on the ice, hiding beneath the surface, too ashamed to look Him in the Eye. The creatures don’t bleed; they do not carry the life of Jove within them. The ultimate act of devotion, for some, comes with the spilling of blood on the icy surface, where the Eye can see you in all your completeness, and welcome you back home.

A mantra has evolved here on Europa, spoken to console soldiers in their dying breaths, spoken as a rallying cry against the creatures in the ice, spoken all the way back on Earth, by the ones at the top, as they justify more soliders for the cause.

We will fight—forever, if needed—to keep these creatures at bay, for the protection of Earth, for the safety of our loved ones, for the honor of those who’ve fallen before us. Forever. War is all we know.

War forever.

[ikibli]

A Realistic(ish) Humans Are Space Orcs Idea

Humans aren't called space orcs because we're better than every other species. We're called space orcs because that's the fantasy species that fits our evolutionary niche best.

Humans aren't terrifying because we're stronger or faster than all other alien species. We're terrifying because we just don't stop.

Even if we've got two broken limbs, have lost a large quantity of blood and have just been electrocuted, a desperate human will still try their best to fight and/or run. We can continue to function and fight with injuries that would have crippled or killed a member of another species several times over, and we might even survive afterwards.

Our ancestors killed prey by following it at a walking pace until it dropped from exhaustion(and possibly blood loss). We might need sleep, water and food to be healthy, but in a pinch we can just...not.

Our psychology is also unconventional, as a result of evolving on a death world. Most other species evolved on planets with relatively stable climates and few major predators.

Humans evolved on a planet where that wasn't true. Earth's axial tilt means that the climate is highly variable within a region based on the time of year, and its food chains are messes of multi-layer predation and opportunism.

This means that we're adaptable, and a lot more willing to take risks that are deemed suicidally insane by other species.

The average alien scientist's reaction to an unexpected prototype explosion is to suspend the project for review. The average human scientist's is "Well, this didn't work, let's try adjusting a few things. And if we can figure out a way to reliably replicate it, we can sell it to the military!"

We also don't really care if something makes logical sense as long as the reason made some sort of sense at the time.

And we don't give up. Tell a human they can't do something, and they'll take it as a challenge rather than an ultimatum. Tell a human to do something that aligns with their values, and they'll put themselves through anything to complete their mission.

Humans are viewed as space orcs, because we're stupidly reckless, nearly-indestructible brutes whose society and technology makes zero sense but somehow functions, from a planet where everything is potentially deadly.

[writing-prompt-s]

Science fiction is full of first contact stories, but is there a such thing as LAST contact?  Decide exactly what that means, and write about it.

[elidyce]

It was too late, when the humans came. They were a young species, still exploring outwards, vital and thriving. 

We… were not. 

War had ravaged us, and sickness, and war once again, until our population dwindled beyond the point of recovery. We struggled against that, of course… we used genetic manipulation, and cloning, and even more desperate measures. None succeeded. When the humans came, we were sinking into apathy, only a few tens of us left. We had begun to discuss whether we should commit a mass suicide, or simply wait to fade away. 

And then the young species came, in their clumsy ships, and they asked us why we were so few. 

“We are becoming extinct,” we told them. “We have passed the point of recovery.” 

It is custom to avoid the races that are dying – once a species reaches the point of inevitable extinction, even war is suspended, and the fiercest enemy pulls back. The custom was born of plagues and poisons that could be carried forth from a dying world to afflict a healthy one, but it has the implacable weight of tradition now. After we are gone, after they have waited for the prescribed period of quarantine, there will be a fight for our world. Habitable worlds are few, and this is a good one, with plenty of free groundwater and thriving vegetation. It is a bitter thing to be grateful for the custom that allows us to die in peace, but we are grateful.

But the humans don’t know that custom, and they do not leave. They seem distraught, when we tell them we are dying, and try to offer their aid - but their technology is behind ours, and it is too late. When they realize that they can’t save us, though, they do something that bewilders us. 

Keep reading

[writing-prompt-s]

Humanity has finally reached the stars and found out why no one had contacted us. The universe is in a sad state. As such, Doctors without Borders, Red Cross, and many othe charities go intergalactic.

[lyricwritesprose]

The thing the recruiters don’t tell you about space battles is that you die slowly.

Ships don’t blow up cleanly in flashes and sparks.  Oh, if you’re in the engine room, you’ll probably die instantly, but away from that?  In the computer core, or the communications hub?  You just lose power.  And have to sit, air going stale and room slowly cooling, while you wait to find out if the battle is won or lost.

If it’s lost, nobody comes for you.

It had been about half a day (that’s a Raithar day, probably a bit shorter than yours) and Kvala and I were pretty sure we had lost.  Kvala was injured, Traav and I were dehydrated and exhausted, and Louv was dead, hit by shrapnel when the conduits blew.

Most fleets give you something, of course.  For Raithari, it’s essence of windgrass.  I looked at the vial.

“It’s too soon,” Traav said.

Kvala gestured negation, shakily.  She had been burned when conduits blew, and her feathers were charred, and her leftmost eye was bubbly and blind now.  Even if we were rescued, she probably wouldn’t survive.  “You know we’re losing the war.”

They couldn’t deny that.  “It doesn’t mean we lost the battle.”

“Doesn’t it?  The Chreee have better technology.  Better resources.  And they have their warrior code.  They don’t care if they die.”

“We can’t give up!” Traav protested.  They were young, a young and reckless thar who had listened to a recruiting officer and still believed scraps of what they had been told.  “Any heartbeat now—”

There was a clunk.  Something had docked with our fragment of the ship.

“You see?!” Traav crowed triumphantly.

Kvala exchanged glances with me.  The Chreee never bothered to hunt down survivors.  What was the point, after all?

The Aushkune did.

There weren’t supposed to be Aushkune here.  They were supposed to hide in nebulas.

But if there were—

If there were, we were too late.  The windgrass couldn’t possibly destroy our nervous systems in time to stop the corpse-reviving implants, and once you were implanted, it was over—or it would never be over, depending on how you looked at it and whether Aushkune drones were aware of anything—

Footsteps.

Bipedal.  The Aushkune were supposed to be bipedal.

And then the blast door opened, and a figure stood in it.  My first thought was, robot?  That’s almost worse than Aushkune . . .  But no, it was a being in some sort of suit.

Who wore suits?

“Friendly contact,” the suit’s sound system blared, as the being moved over to Kvala.  “Urgent treatment.  Evacuation.”

“Who are you?”  Kvala struggled upright.

Despite the primitive suit, the blocky being was using up-to-date medical scanners.  “Low frequency right angle shape,” it explained—or maybe didn’t explain.  Two more figures came into the room and put Kvala firmly onto a stretcher.

“You’re with the Chreee, aren’t you?”  Kvala was not at all happy to be on a stretcher.

“Not Chreee,” the sound system said.  “You Man.  Soil Starship Nichols.”  The being hesitated.  “Rescue Chreee as well.  On ship.  Will separate.”

“You what?” I said faintly.  Who would do that?

“Oath,” the being explained.

“What kind of oath?  To what deity?”

The shoulders of the being moved up and down.  “Several different.  Also none.  For me, none.  Just—oath.”

I exchanged glances with Traav, who looked as unsettled as I was.  I had never, ever heard of groups cooperating when they couldn’t even swear to or by the same power.

The being scanned me.  “Have water,” it said.  “Recommend.”

Raithari have fast metabolisms.  I could—would—die of thirst quickly, and painfully.

“Where will you take us,” Traav asked, “after you give us water?”

“Raithari to Raithar.  Chreee to Chreeeholm.”

“Chreeeholm would kill them for failing,” Traav remarked.

The being hesitated, and then said, “War news sometimes bad.  Sometimes lie.”

We had learned long ago not to believe the recruiting officers, but what did that have to do with anything?

“And you—what?” I asked.  “Just fly around looking for battles and rescuing victims?”

The being seemed to consider this.  “Best invention of soil,” it said finally.

Most of what it was saying didn’t make any sense.  Did it worship soil?  But it had said that it had sworn to no deity . . .

Madness.

On the other hand—war was a deliberate, rational act by deliberate, rational people, and I wanted no more of it.  So why not embrace madness and see what happened?

“Soil Starship—Rrikkol?” I asked, stumbling over the word.

“Yes.  Soil Starship Nichols.”

I followed the being in the suit.

[phoenixyfriend]

Took me well over a minute to realize "low frequency right angle shape" was Red Cross.

[bippysaurus-rex]

I love how this shows the weirdness both of language and of culture. Excellent writing!

[paulgadzikowski]

"Soil Starship Nichols"

This is what took me a moment.

Earth Starship [Nichelle] Nichols

[inactiveaccount12345678]

My roomba is scared of thunderstorms

I was sitting at my desk just a few minutes ago, drawing, and a really loud crack of thunder went off–no power surges or anything, just thunder–and my roomba fled from its dock and started spinning in circles

I currently now have an active roomba sitting quietly on my lap

[systlin]

Humans will pack bond with anything. 

[beyonceisstraight]

I’ve noticed a trend with people who own roombas. Whenever they speak about the device they talk as if it’s self aware. They call the Roomba a dumbass for simple things. And I think it’s a few things at play. The fact that this object movies on it’s own to locations without being told to do so gives the illusion of free will. The second thing is that it dwells with you in your home so you feel comfortable with it. Third thing is that it’s pet sized.

We tend to humanize lots of things. It’s how we understand them. We feel as if we’re holding someone under water when holding down a power button. We tell microwaves not to beep as us because we take it as disrespect and loads of quirky things.

It’s pack bonding plus humans greatest accomplishment. Imagination and creativity. We start doing this as children while playing with toys and never realise this just happens naturally.

[adaginy]

The Big Guide to Humans: Home Planet

Humans come from a small, rocky planet, called Terra or Earth or some other translation of "dirt," where they lived on the land surface despite the planet being mostly covered (area and volume) by water. They do, however, measure temperature in a scale based approximately on the freezing and boiling points of water (at their average atmospheric pressure), set to 0 and 100. As with "years" (see lifespan and development), your local human can probably tell you the conversion to local measurements, if the knowledge is not in your local storage and the numbers are not being converted automatically by your translation dock. The planet's rotational axis is tilted relative to its orbital plane, resulting in "seasons," a predictable progression of local temperatures between local lows to local highs and back over the course of an orbit, despite its nearly round trajectory. This is in addition to the smaller temperature changes of the day/night cycle. Terran weather temperatures range from -90, below the freezing point of radon, to 60, nearly the boiling point of bromine, though humans mostly live where the weather over the course of a year ranges between -20 to 45.

Humans infamously breathe oxygen, but Terra's atmosphere is actually mostly nitrogen. The 23% oxygen concentration is enough for fires to sustain easily, assuming fuel and initial ignition, but low enough that fires smother nearly immediately when fully covered. Terra's rotation and heat from Sol combine to cause a predictable pattern of convection known as prevailing winds. Winds are often strong enough to move light objects without causing damage, not uncommonly strong enough to make it difficult for humans to move against it, or stronger, and sometimes strong enough to cause damage to buildings. This is in addition to regional threats of "extreme" winds, most notably tornadoes (fast-moving, localized funnels of winds strong enough rip buildings apart and fling heavy objects) and cyclones (weaker than a tornado, but traveling slowly and raining so copiously that shelters are also damaged by water).

Having such copious rain that buildings are damaged can happen outside of a cyclone, as well. While humans can swim surprisingly well for a non-liquid-dwelling species, this water has usually picked up so many contaminants that it is capable of overwhelming a human's immune system if it enters their body via their mouth or damaged skin.

Alternately, little or no water may fall on an area that does not usually experience water scarcity. The resulting "drought" kills plants and animals that cannot be moved. This is less predictable, but takes multiple years to come into effect. A vegetated area facing drought, however, is at particular risk for a wild fire, a fire that becomes too large and fast-moving to be smothered. Areas as big as residential ships can burned before the fire runs out of fuel or is able to be drenched.

Terra's planetary surface is made up of several pieces of "crust" floating on top of its liquid center. At the edges of these pieces, or at cracks in the pieces, huge pieces of crust can be forced upward or buckle under the pressure. Done slowly, so slowly no one notices, this produces mountains. Done quickly, it produces "earth quakes." Some earth quakes can only be sensed by sensors, but others cause buildings to shake apart. Humans know where these edges are and, instead of not building there, they design buildings that are able to resist being shaken. If the locus of the shaking is near or under the ocean, it can cause a fast-moving, towering wave called a "tsunami." An average tsunami is capable of obliterating buildings when it reaches shore, and then sucking any survivors into the ocean when it recedes (with strength far past even the best human swimmers). As with earth quakes, humans design buildings to survive being struck by this wall of water. The same edges and cracks also produce volcanoes, places where the earth's liquid center oozes or bursts out of the ground. This liquid will be at temperatures of 700 or more, above the melting temperature of radium and on past the the melting temperature of gold. It can cause fires when it touches things in addition to being so heavy and/or voluminous that it covers items in its path. Humans generally do not build very close to volcanoes that are frequently or explosively active. However, if a volcano is only likely to erupt once or twice within a human lifespan, or tends to ooze rather than burst, they will simply use several sensors to know when it will happen so they can get out of the way. Because they all originate in the same geological source, it is common to have two of these crack-based issues at once and not unusual to have all three.

Sometimes, rain falls in tiny frozen pieces, covering the ground in a layer of ice chips. Sometimes it falls in large rocks of ice, breaking and shattering what it strikes. Sometimes the temperature is anomalously hot or cold in places where the wildlife and human dwellings are not adapted to those temperatures. Sometimes massive sparks of electricity shoot from the sky to the ground. Sometimes the side of a mountain — or the ice chips piled on the side of the mountain — will fall off and slide down, burying and crushing everything in the way. Sometimes erosion under the surface will cause the surface to give way, leaving a hole in the ground big enough to swallow a person or a building. Sometimes the liquid inside Terra doesn't burst through the surface, but super-heats water until it does. While none of these features are unique to Terra, even among inhabited planets, it is uncommon for an inhabited planet to have so many of these features and it is nearly unique among humans to choose to live in afflicted areas. It can be helpful to understand, when one is wondering why humans and other life from their planet are "like that," that life only evolved on Terra once* and then experienced a burst of population up to and beyond local carrying capacities. Every species, including the plants, shares a common ancestor, and every creature that was ever born (hatched, sprouted, divided, etc) faced immediate competition from other, similar creatures. The ability to run faster, eat weirder, live hardier, spread farther provided an immediate benefit. Furthermore, in addition to the horrors described in this chapter of this guide, in Terra's planetary history there are multiple near-extinction-level events — new chemosynthetic species producing upheavals in the atmospheric gas balance, an asteroid strike, massive volcanic eruptions choking the air with ash and blocking energy from Sol — that further pressed evolution. Terra, truly, has earned its reputation as a death world — but less so for the life that has formed there.

*there is a long-standing idea that cephalopods may have originated separately, but this is really only taken seriously by the Chiparsen, who used to colonize via panspermia. While the Unified Government no longer accepts this as a valid territorial claim, the Chiparsen still hope to prove relation in order to put forth a diplomatic demand that Terrans remove cephalopods from their diet.

[esmeriandreamer]

A small "Earth is Space Australia" thingy based on something that happened to me while working on the farm a few weeks ago-

---

"Human-Sarah, why are you limping?"

"Oh, one of our goats hit me on the inside of my knee with his horn."

"What?? Are you alright?? Do you require medical assistance??"

"Nah, nah, I'm fine. He just managed to get me with the sharper end of it by accident-"

"Did this goat manage to impale you??? We must get you to a medic right away-"

"Zurgurr, relax, I didn't get my knee impaled. Those horns aren't meant to gore anything with, it was a blunt point. Plus, I was wearing layers so the impact got dulled."

"...I see. But what caused this goat to attack you like that then?"

"Oh, I was interrupting him eating."

"....What."

"Yeah, I should've put his bucket a bit further from the door, he must've thought I wanted to take it from him or whatever."

"...So he attacked you."

"Nah, just threw his head back in my direction in protest and managed to hook a horn into my knee that way. It'll be a bit of a bruise, but that's all."

"I see.. so-"

"I mean, if he wanted to attack me, he would've been on his hind legs to ram his horns against my stomach or something."

"..What."

"Yeah, he tried that once, but I just grabbed him by the leash to stop him. And besides, he wouldn't want to harm me on purpose, I think. He's just a grumpy old man who's had kids invading his space too much. He even looked guilty after he hit me."

"...So even though he slammed a horn into a vital joint of yours, you forgive him?"

"Yeah. Because I care for him, and he needs kindness. He's a grumpy asshole at times, but he's my grumpy asshole."

[niqhtlord01]

Updated Story List

Contained here are a wide selection of Humans are Weird stories. 

Ever wonder what an interstellar war with humanity would look like? Or how about debating ethics and political ideals with an alien empire? 

Or maybe all you wonder is how frustrating it would be to try and explain Minecraft is and why a Bionic Commando had his wife made into his new arm. 

Whatever your flavor I’m sure you’ll find a story here that you will like :) 

Stories with recuring characters are organized together, while stories that follow certain themes.

The list now includes 80+ new stories since the last update. 

Keep reading

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 5

I successfully made contact with the human today. As per usual, I completed my cyclic meal intake, but did not come across the human. When I arrived at my work station, the human was already present. She turned around to me and once again, her face warped into a horrifying grimace similar to the one on the second day, baring her teeth and raising the corners of her mouth in a rather threatening manner. I recoiled, although fortunately, the grimace was gone as soon as it had appeared. The human did not seem to notice my discomfort, and simply turned back to her work station.

After a moment, I felt secure enough to approach my own work station. As we worked in silence, I pondered if this was perhaps not a sign of aggression, but rather a way of greeting among humans. Although this thesis could not be supported by any real evidence, as baring ones teeth was a universal sign of aggression among most species.

The human, suddenly, seemingly without any indicator, spoke up: "Y‘know, I just realized that I never asked your name. That must‘ve seemed terribly rude of me." "I was not upset by your behaviour", I decided on after a moment.

"So what is your name?" "My species does not participate in the gifting of individual names.", I explained. "We simply address each other by their titles or their profession. I am addressed as 'mechanic'." 

"But that‘s…boring and sad." My front pliers uttered a rattling sound. "I have never known anything else." Her vocal cords vibrated, producing a barely detectable humming sound. 

The silence did not last long. "Can I ask you a kind of personal question? You don‘t have to answer, obviously…I was just wondering: Do…all of your species look like you? Kind of like, insect-looking, six legs, pliers, compound eyes type?"

"The anatomy of my species does not wary greatly. We all look quite similar, yes." "Oh, cool"

I tried to word my own following question as polite as possible: "What…about your species? Do your individuals vary greatly from each other in terms of physique?" 

"Well…kind of. I mean, we all have, like, the same 'ground structure', I guess you‘d call it? Like, anatomy-wise? But we like, can vary in, for example skin colour, eye colour, hair colour, height, weight, so shape, basically. Uuh yeah, that‘s what‘s coming into my head right now." She had started 'counting' with her fingers while she spoke, taking one finger for every thing she listed.

"That is quite astounding, compared to my species.", I informed her. "Yeah, I guess you could say so…", she opened and closed her mouth, producing a clicking sound as her teeth clashed together. Seemingly, she had wanted to say another thing, but decided against it.

Before I was able to strike up another conversation, Wrin walked, or rather, stumbled into the main control room, a bottle in their gloved hand. They informed me that, apparently, there was another leak in one of the machinery rooms that they wanted me to have a look at. Although I doubted their words, I followed them nonetheless, even if it was solely to reassure them. 

As it transpired, there was an actual leak, which I had to spend the rest of the cycle repairing and checking that there was further damage or similar leaks, since there had been two in a row in a rather short matter of cycles.

When I eventually finished the task at hand, the cycle had almost come to an end and the human had left the premises to indulge in her (now dark) recharging time session.

As I stated in the report prior to this one, I do not draw conclusions, but I have a slight presentiment that the human may like me.

[what-even-is-thiss]

Every alien species has a different opinion of Earth and therefore humans.

Some say it’s a crazy planet, a boring planet. A planet of gross creatures. Humans bathe too much, too little. They all look the same, they all look so different. Earth is beautiful, earth is horrifying. But they can all agree on one thing. It’s definitely weird.

But then one or two of them come to live on Earth. They learn an earth spoken language if their throats can handle it, a sign language if they can’t. And they go to school, get a job, get a roommate. And the longer they stay they notice something.

Earth is mostly unremarkable. Like any other planet there’s a spacefaring species, beautiful and ugly nature, different cultures. The humans aren’t that genetically different from each other but they’re not exactly the same either.

So really, why does this place have such a reputation.

So someday they go to their friend, boss, teacher, whatever human they trust, and they tell them. You know, I don’t know why everyone thinks you guys are so weird.

And the human laughs. In a good-natured way, they think. It’s sometimes hard to understand the body language of other species.

Then the human sighs. “We always assumed we would be the weird ones in the galaxy, and then we weren’t. But if there’s one thing that humans probably have more than anyone else I’ve ever heard of, it’s commitment to the bit.”

“To the bit?”

The human might shake their head here or elbow the alien in the ribs if they have any. Or maybe just smile.

“There’s not a lot of things that humans are united on, but we do all think it’s very funny to exaggerate just enough that the alien rumor mill will do the rest of the work for us.”

“So you all just wanted to be weird so badly that you started lying?”

“Not lying. Just dropping the right facts on the right people. If you find out that a species generally bathes three times a day, casually mentioning that some humans only shower a couple times a week will eventually lead that entire species to think that humans just don’t bathe. If you tell someone from an ice planet about the Sahara desert they flip out and in a year or two everyone on that planet thinks that humans make their homes in the center of volcanoes.”

Here the alien smiles or shows some other subtle sign that they’re amused. Yeah, now that they think about it, none of the rumors they heard before they came here had turned out to be true.

And that does sound like humans, doesn’t it? Committing as a species to spread rumors about themselves because they find it to be hilarious.

[skritzzy]

I feel like any aliens that were prey at some point in evolution would have an odd fear of humans. Mostly cause they look like predators, act a bit like predators, and ARE predators. One perfect example is when we're focused on something like a mosquito that's been bugging us for a long time and we are just done.

Alien: "What. What..?"

Human: *HUNTING down a mosquito it saw*

Alien: ".... yeah I am really uncomfortable...."

Human: *quiet footsteps, pupils dialated, intense focus,*

Alien: *WAR FLASHBACKS*

Human: "Found you." *absolutely desimates the mosquito, squashing it into a million pieces as it's guts and various body parts liquidize into blood of the bloodthirsty, now stained on the palm of the human. A living being now reduced to a useless corpse as the human wipes the remains on their pants*

Alien: "I feel like I've just gained trauma."

[sepulchritude]

my fav trope is like, nonhuman characters not understanding human needs/customs but still being super supportive of their human companion

“look what I found while exploring this planet’s surface!” “kilrak please I’m trying to sleep” “ah yes your human circadian rhythm. *stage whispering* I am supposed to be quiet during this time in your rhythm, yes?”

“the book I purchased on ragnok V says humans require physical touch when upset. therefore, I shall engage in a ‘hug’ with you.” *supremely awkward five-armed hug ensues*

*human sneezes* “OH MY GOD SIL'EEN GET THE MEDIC OUR HUMAN IS DYING”

“this pamphlet I received recently says that humans require companions and packmates in the form of small earth creatures. you should have told me this before we departed earth, but it is no worry. we will have to stop at the next trade planet to get you one of these ‘cats’ or ‘dogs’.”

[agentquinn]

imagine the aliens really purchasing a kitten for one of their rough and world-weary scifi badass human companions and watching in helpless wonderment what ensues 

“she’s been cuddling that small animal for the past fifteen minutes just going ‘kitty, kitty’. did we - did we break our human?”

a more seasoned alien puts one of their tentacles around the younger one as the rest of the team gathers to watch their human make kissy noises. 

“no, kilrak,” the alien says. “we did good.” 

[frowningfox]

“Human-Steve! I have heard that today is the anniversary of your hatching! According to my human culture pamphlet, it is customary to set a sugary pastry on fire while chanting your species’ growth incantation and presenting sacrifices wrapped in shiny paper. I am afraid to ask, in case this ritual is sacred and this request therefor insensitive… but may I be allowed to participate? It sounds much more fascinating than molting.”

[anexperimentallife]

“Human Steve, I have read about your ritual dance called ‘The Hokey Pokey,’ performed mostly at mate-bonding celebrations after the guests reach an elevated level of intoxication. But Human Steve, how do I know WHICH left foot to put in, put out, and shake all about? I do not… Human Steve, why are you laughing?”

[captainarwenpond221b-deactivate]

“Human-Steve, you are… you are eating, but it is not one of your ritual fueling times. Are you dying? Is everything alright? Have you not been receiving enough sustenance? Do I need to get you better things to eat? Human-Steve, why are you trying to hide that food?”

[rinneavicula]

“Human-Steve, my research has informed me of a grave oversight in your care that I, as your companion, have made! Thus, I have gathered collections of fictional human literature to read aloud at the time of your bed. Which is more to your liking: “The Care and Keeping of Cacti” or “1001 Crossword Puzzles?” Human-Steve? Human-Steve, I am serious.“

[hongbubs]

One of the things I love the most about this post is how “Human-Steve” makes me think that there is also an alien called Steve in the squad, and I just imagine the first meeting and introduction where there is the human guy introducing himself as Steve and then there is this huge blue guy with like 5 legs and bug eyes and apparently Steve is like a completely regular name on his planet too in some intergalactical coincidence

that was off topic sorry.

[aethersea]

that was the best possible tangent, thank you for this addition

[writing-prompt-s]

All dominant species in the galaxy has something that sets them apart. From healing broken bones and severed flesh, losing 2/8 of our blood, to being infected by literally billions of parasites, Humans have the gift of simply refusing to die. It freaks the heebie-jeebies out of everyone else.

[poodlesauce]

“They are such small, fragile things. In the face of something truly worthy of fear, what are they going to do?”

What a large question for such a little planet. Of course, the answer was obvious: they wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Intergalactic wars had always been fought, those with regenerative powers surviving and those with strength emerging victorious. Some did best running or hiding in the shadows. Each universal war was the same, a mechanical cycle among the stars.

Until a human wrench found itself dancing with massive, time-proclaimed gears.

All could feel the next war boiling up, threatening to spill over into disaster once again; however, one species known for intuition had a feeling.

“There is something off about this war. It isn’t the same as the ones that have come before: no, this is going to affect us on a greater scale than ever before, a scale that we can’t even comprehend, let alone prepare for. Heed my words. Do not fight this war.” The words were wise and well sourced. To the peace council, the answer was obvious. For the rest of the universe, well…

“Cancel the war? What a stupid notion. That council has never done a thing, and now it thinks it can just stop a war by speaking?” The fiery Glanth laughed as it shook its head. “We’ve been disrespected by the Anoric for far too long. It’s past time for us to take what’s rightfully ours!” The bar screamed its approval.

“The war is already won. The Glanth are cowards who choke confronted with conflict. Our hand is utmost: victory is viciously in view. Do not desist in your digilent duties! Fight for freedom! Reach for reputation! Life is limitless.” The Anorics roared in raucous ratification.

The war had begun, and it would not be stopped.

It was in all of this that the little planet was forgotten. Fragile creatures who hadn’t yet reached beyond their moon were of the least concern to anyone.

Wait…

They were only supposed to be on their moon? So why was one spotted among Anoric ranks? Another with the Glanth? Two more seen in the peace council plaza? How had they gotten so far without being seen?

An intergalactic announcement was made, decreeing that any human off of its planet was to be killed on sight. With war on the horizon, humans weren’t a risk anyone was willing to take. Besides, just because they could travel wouldn’t change they fact that they were weak. They’d be gone within the qop.

It had been 3 ½ qops since the last human was found. The war was at its peak. Life went on.

5 qops. The war was over. The Glanth did not win.

Neither did the Anoric.

The victors were from a little planet with a single moon. They had come in at the beginning of the fourth qop from all areas of the universe. They spoke in a tongue indesipherable by the best translators, with a military strategy that by all accounts made no sense. Yet here they were. They had survived persecution at the start of the war, and the war itself. Humans had the lowest casualty rate of any race in the war. They were struck down again and again, losing limbs and blood, but never once losing the fight in their eyes.

That’s when it clicked. When everyone realized. Humans didn’t need to be strong. They didn’t need armor or weapons. Throw them a length of rope and a degrading remark and you’ll find yourself at their mercy within the hour. Humans don’t just die. They fight until they cannot move. They scream until their lungs don’t remember air. They will pick themselves up until their fingers are worn away, bleeding reminders of their efforts. Humans aren’t human at all, and yet that is what makes them so alive.

[bumble-booty]

Reflex Actions

If this hasn’t been done yet I’m shocked.

What about muscle memory actions? Things we do every day, but if we have to change our schedule, we’re guaranteed to mess up somehow.

For example: I just locked myself out of the car. Thankfully the window was cracked enough for another helpful person to do the string trick, but still. (The car I usually drive has a remote unlock, so I usually leave the keys in my glovebox and lock the car with the door. The second I heard the click I just sighed.)

Human Trev seemed frustrated today. He was sitting in the ingestion area with his head in his hands, talking to several other humans. Wlangth crawled closer, waiting until one of the humans flashed the teeth approval before joining in the group.

“-nd then i put the damn keys in the lockbox and closed it. Right in front of jlathar. Who was waiting for the keys. I seriously don’t know why I keep doing this shit today, I was talking to him about his shift and I still did it!”

Human Alex patted Human Trev’s shoulder as she began to laugh, shaking her head in understanding. “It’s okay. My parents got to the point they taped a key to the wheel well of my first car cause I would lock myself out so much!”

Wlangth adjusted his upper body to the right, trying to mimic the ‘head tilt’ humans accept as an inquiry. “if you know you require the items, why do you forget them?” Human Trev shrugged, dropping his head onto the table. “From what I know, it’s because humans get into habits. We get used to putting the keys in the lockbox, and it’s muscle memory to put them in. When we have to break that habit, our bodies don’t always cooperate.”

Wlangth gave the humans a surprised look, fear slowly overtaking his features. “Human Muscles have memories?” Human Alex paused before sighing. “Not like our brain’s memory. It’s like…” All of the humans shared a glance, before shrugging. Human Trev continued. “I dunno how to explain it. We’ll have to ask a medic. But it’s just a thing humans do.”

Wlangth blinked his eyes in succession, drawing himself up into a proper stance. “I will make it a point to ask in the future.” Excusing themselves from the conversation, he quickly escaped the ingestion area. How horrifying it must be to not fully understand one’s own body!

[spoiledchestnut]

Alien: You shouldn’t eat that.

Human: What?

Alien: That thing. Don’t you know it’s extremely acidic? Enough to cause eventual deterioration of your flesh?

Human: ….it’s a fucking pineapple.

[hornygold]

Alien: But that thing contains bromelain, it’ll destroy your body’s proteins!

Human: Not if I digest the bromelain first.

Alien: Humans are insane!

[crazy-pages]

“Not if I digest it first” is an official human motto, in close competition with “not if I pet it first”.

[totallynotanarsonist]

Humans are weird:

I don’t know if this one’s been said but I wanna contribute the the space Australia thing. I bet aliens would think it’s weird that humans get allergies. It makes no sense because not all of us have them.

Imagine the alien returning to the ship with a gift for the human, thinking it would make them happy because it’s from earth.

“Human Kyle, I have brought you a treat. It is an earth delicacy known to you as the ‘peanut butter sandwich’

Kyle: “Sorry Xokop I can’t eat that, I’m allergic.”

Xokop: “Allergic?”

Kyle: “Yeah I can’t eat peanuts or it makes me really sick and I could die.”

Xokop: “NO! I will not endanger you human Kyle, your knowledge of humans is vital to our crew. I must go update the ships records that peanuts are dangerous to humans.”

Then another humans enters and sees the sandwich.

Xokop: “Hello human Morgan.”

Morgan grabs the sandwich off the plate and takes a bite.

Xokop: “HUMAN MORGAN DO NOT CONSUME THAT, YOU COULD BECOME ILL”

Morgan: “What, no I love peanut butter.”

Xokop: “You are not allergic?”

Kyle: “It’s not all humans, just some of them.”

Xokop: “How do you know which humans are allergic?”

Kyle: “You have to ask them.”

@humans-are-space-australians

[a-spectacular-pigeon]

Humans are weird: babies

So I’m a big fan of the idea that humans are “space orcs”, and today it got me thinking about something else. 

Human birth is pretty unique among mammals. Not only are our birth canals narrower than standard due to being bipeds, but we have a larger head to body ratio then any other mammal. As a result of this, the only way to fit a baby’s head through a person’s birth canal is for them to be born very early, and massively underdeveloped. 

Other mammals are capable of walking and running within the first day of being born, where as a human baby doesn’t even have strong enough neck muscles to hold up their own head. 

They can’t see, they can’t crawl, they don’t have the coordination to grab things, and they have a soft spot on the skull that leaves part of the brain incredibly vulnerable. And while an adult can adapt to a range of temperatures, babies have to be constantly monitored to make sure they aren’t chilled or over heating. 

Can you imagine you’re an alien, who knows humans as these highly adaptable endurance machines that can eat almost anything and survive tremendous physical pain and injury, and you learn that their young are so fragile. That they emerge from the womb barely able to function biologically. 

And suddenly you remember all those humans on your crew who get attached little creatures. The toughest, burliest people who will coo and coddle over fluffy little cats and call lizards babies. And you realise that their whole species developed to care for these tiny, vulnerable, defenceless babies, and that kind of attachment tends to spill over a little. 

And now you understand that old adage, that the most dangerous humans are the ones whose young are in danger. Because if they’re going to stand a chance at surviving until adulthood then human parents have to be willing to defend their children with their lives, and that is exactly what they do.  

[pleurocoelus]

Holy crap. That means that we’re like pouchless marsupials (though not as extreme in the underdeveloped infant department).

It fits that we’re called Space Australians.

[a-spectacular-pigeon]

OKay this is my favourite response so far

[elodieunderglass]

To be fair, the mammals “born able to run within hours” are the terrestrial ungulate mammals. They are newcomers and parvenus and they die when they step on a bee. They only showed up when grasslands became common, the meme-loving fucks - they’re all matcha lattes and YEET. Like, okay, we get it, hoofed ungulates: you’re vegan, you really like synthpop, you’ve “discovered” a “new” continent, you ran fifteen miles this morning, your baby walked within eight hours of birth, sure. Fine. You’re cute, diversity is important, you can stay. We need something to eat, after all. 

But ungulate mammals are REALLY poor representation of Mammalia.The ancestral Mammal, rodentlike, that gave rise to Placentals and Marsupials, would have been more like - well, more like today’s Placentals and Marsupials. More like us. More like badgers and dogs and monkeys and hamsters. Born blind and naked, and hidden discreetly from polite society, until the horrible alien thing looks more like a Real Animal. 

Consider the mouse: born completely naked, hairless, blind, deaf, helpless, only able to drag itself to a nipple with terrific effort. Consider the cat: born as a thinly furred sausage with eyes and ears glued shut for weeks. Consider the newborn dog. Big cats. Rats. Bears. Squirrels. Sure, consider the marsupials; also, weasels and rabbits and porcupines and pangolins. All the mammals that aren’t the bloody ungulates. 

Rodents are born practically fetal, their limbs mere buds, their skin see-through, their eyes bulging in their transparent skulls. Their bones aren’t even opaque! You can see their dark livers, the white milk in their bellies! Their eyelids are welded shut, their heads too large to raise. They are a lot more alien than a human baby - a liminal animal indeed. Certainly, rodents grow quickly, because they die so young. Their helpless childhood is still proportionately a large chunk of their life - nearly the same proportion as ours, actually. But they are born like uncooked eggs. I would add a picture of a newborn rat pup here, but young and impressionable children read this blog.

And we are not the weakest of the Furry Mammal clan, if we zoom out. It takes about two weeks for a kitten to open their eyes. It takes about four weeks for their hearing to come online. This is because these senses are still developing. They’re born undercooked, too! 

By contrast with many mammals, human babies come out with their senses active (unless that specific baby is blind or deaf or has another sensory disability)*. It takes a while for human babies to focus their eyes, because we usually have a lot of apps installed (color vision, facial recognition) that take forever to boot up the first time, and focusing requires muscle control - but human babies are goggling at the world with open eyes, and processing what they see, as soon as they come out. Human babies come out able to hear, if hearing is included with that specific baby. We are born able to record and process sensory information, where our other mammalian cousins can’t.  

I mean, I am so guilty of this trope too, I love it to pieces and use it all the time. Even more hypocritically, I personally agree with the “Fourth Trimester” theory, which is that human babies need about three months to adjust themselves to life outside the womb. Thus, the first three months are the “Fourth Trimester,” where you just carry the baby around, and it boggles helplessly at the world and goes “ugh!!” That is the part that makes sense when you look at the birth canal etc, and you go “oh, we’re so undeveloped,” and you mope because you can’t see yourself ever getting your life back. But the first three months is only a small piece of the longer story of human babyhood, and the “weak, helpless” stage is not particularly unusual among our mammalian family. It just seems so terribly long because we compare it to horses and rats, which is unfair on everyone. And at some point we get our lives back, and can’t remember where the time went. And it isn’t as bad as it could be. I mean, we can usually shit on our own. So that’s something!

No, it really is something. Many baby mammals cannot excrete on their own. Cats, for example; the mama cat must lick certain areas of the baby to stimulate it to poo and pee. They can’t do it by themselves. Mama cat must lick them religiously, to make their bowels and bladder work, or the waste will back up and the kitten/cub will die. This is relatively common among the Furry Mammals. Every kitten on Earth had to be forcibly poo’ed for the first three weeks of its life. Every tiger took six weeks (!!) before it could pee by itself. And that’s just the felids. Don’t talk to me about werewolf cubs unless you’re ready to make the decision on whether they need diapers, you cowards.

Humans, though, are born perfectly capable of shitting by ourselves. Which is rather nice, when you consider the alternative. 

So if you take us in context of the other baffling and amazing animals on Earth, we are not really particularly “undeveloped,” taken as a whole. Not particularly in comparison to our cousins, whom an alien would find just as strange and foreign. We humans are simply hitting milestones at our own pace - sometimes faster, sometimes slower, always legitimate, always because an ancestor dodged death once by doing something slightly different. Our infants are for carrying in our arms, so it doesn’t matter that they can’t hold their heads up - but they are born shitting, and boggling with their enormous eyes.

Anyway, aliens would probably regard all this nonsense in the same way as the dinosaurs did - “Lord, what fools these mammals be,” at first, and then “OH FUCK THE MAMMALS DID WHAT?”

“Parenting is important,” reply the badgers and the bears and the humans, aggressively cuddling something they call a baby, although they might be taking the piss: “Really, we will bond with and nurture ANYTHING that meets our vague criteria. Isn’t cuteness just the best thing you’ve ever seen? Don’t your hormones just SQUISH when you see something with specific proportions? You know what’s inherently rewarding? HOLDING SMALL THINGS AND MAKING A SOUND ABOUT IT.” 

“Erm, I guess?” replies the alien or the dinosaur. “I guess… I guess your baby…. thing…. is very …. important? To you??”

“YES I LOVE IT A LOT”

“I …. see that you do. It’s … cute.”

“Cuteness is a powerful weapon,” the mammal says seriously. “Oh, also? This is our planet now.”

* Many humans are born without the ability to hear, see, see in color, eliminate, socialize, process sensory information, etc. Or they may lose these abilities later. They are valid, human and loved. These “space Australian” posts are about generalising humans, so I generalise here, but I don’t want to make anyone feel bad.