okay yeah sure the inherent tragedy of an innocent Green getting infected onboard and being either forced to watch something wearing their corpse kill everyone or made to pointlessly fight against the alien’s control is sad and all, but…
what if there was never a humble, clueless worm farmer, but the alien wishes there was?
like- imagine, you’re this big strong species, sent to massacre this ship of weak aliens. you learn about allllll the stuff they do, you learn of all of their jobs and cultures and social norms and prejudices and everything. you make a persona based off what seemed easiest to mimic. someone dumb, naïve, and trusting. you’re smart, after all; playing dumb requires much less of you than any other strategy, and you want to save your energy for important, enjoyable things like hunting.
but then you realize just how nice it is to be so gullible, so innocent and kind. it’s much easier than being yourself, certainly. you like pretending to be harmless. you like acting as an eager, easily manipulated intern. you…
you like being an alien more than you like being yourself. you think about your little persona all the time, even when you have no reason to. what do they like? what don’t they like? what sort of parents do they have? nice ones, definitely. gentle ones, probably, if you knew parents could be that. siblings? maybe some little siblings. could they be the oldest? no, they’re too naïve and energetic. one or two older siblings, maybe three younger? how many kids do the aliens have on average again?
but that doesn’t matter. none of it matters, you remember, and you force yourself to refocus back on your mission. none of it matters because there never was a “real” Green, and there never will be. you will never be Green. your life will never be as simple as theirs would be. your life is complicated, difficult, nothing like theirs. these feelings are pointless and distracting, so you push them down as far as you can. you need to focus on your task.
even still, you find yourself having to ignore the dangerous longing bubbling in your chest, having to ignore stray thoughts emerging from below.
it’d be so nice to be Green. I wish I knew how to raise worms. I wish I had siblings like theirs. I wish I grew up on their farm. I wish
and you find yourself desperately pushing them back down before you have the chance to agree.











