injuries-in-dust:

Roasted hearts of human pray!

Tyler jumped back as Blorb came screeching, panicked, out of the mess hall, wings flapping uselessly.

Blorb wasn’t her real name, just a nickname the humans had given the four foot avian alien. You needed a beak and hollow skull bones to resonate sound in just the right way to pronounce her true name. But Blorb was the closest human approximation.

She leapt up, her clawed feet (which also served as hands for her race, since her wings were only good for gliding on the strong wind currents of her home world) dug into his arms. Luckily, Blorb only weighed as much as a small child or the two of them would have taken a hard tumble. “Human-Tyler, save yourself! Human-Cathy has turned FERAL! SHE’LL EAT US ALL!” Blorb was so panicked she was losing feathers from her madly flapping wings. She jumped off Tyler’s shoulders, managing to glide all of four feet before landing on the ground. She took off running, hitting her top speed before she even reached the first intersection. She was gone, but the echoes of her panicked screeching continued to echo.

Tyler cocked an eyebrow and looked back at the mess hall door. Cathy, turning feral? What on earth Could that mean?

The door slid open to reveal an empty cafeteria, there was no one but Cathy eating what looked like a salad, and an abandoned bowl of fried grubs (probably Blorb’s meal).

Cathy waved to him, “Hey, Ty.”

Tyler looked at her, then around the room and back to Cathy. Certainly no feral behaviour was going on. “So, Blorb tells me you’ve, and I quote, ‘turned feral’. You finally come back to the meat eaters?”

Cathy smirked, “Vegetarian for life,” as if to illustrate the point she took a big lettuce leaf and tore into it. “Funny thing,” she said between bites, “I was just telling Blorb about how my mom sent a care package from home. Usual stuff; vids, some new entertainment disks and a load of stuff we can’t get here. She sent my favourite,” she paused to stab her fork into the salad. When she pulled it up she had impaled a small greenish white vegetable of many layers. “A jar of roast Artichoke hearts. They’re better fresh, but I take what I can get.”

Puzzle pieces were starting to falling into place for Tyler. “You told Blorb this and then she freaked out?”

Cathy’s grin grew a little wider, “I don’t think she knows what an artichoke is. She might have focussed a little on the ‘roasted heart’ part of the description.”

Tyler helped himself to a cup of coffee. The puzzle was coming together. “And you didn’t tell her?”

Cathy shrugged, “I meant to, but she ran off screaming before I had chance.”

Tyler sat opposite Cathy, “You didn’t think to go after her and explain before she finds a panic button to press?”

Cathy gave a non-commital shrug, “ I’m eating, besides-“ she cupped a hand to her ear, Tyler listed too. From somewhere in the facility they could hear Blorb’s warning cries. It was difficult to make out but it sounded something like “She’ll eat us all!”

Cathy leaned back in her chair, satisfied, “It’s hilarious.”

*********

Cathy, Tyler, Blorb, and other colourful characters will becoming part of my own little literary universe for my short humans are weird stories.

It’s why I stuck in otherwise unnecessary details about Blorb, it’s world building.

I think I’ll call it the Station J-12 series. No reason, I just like the sound of it. Whether it’s a space station, or planetary station, I haven’t decided yet.

paperbaghero:

markiplier:

you took your mask off haha.

you don’t seem happy haha.

you aren’t smiling haha.

this is all just a fun fun game haha.

so put your mask back on haha.

and laugh like you mean it.

Do not take it far, I repeat–

DO NOT TAKE IT FAR!!Leave other Fandoms out of this!!

Seriously, if your a true fan of Markiplier, you will leave the people who dont want to participate alone. 

If Robbie is Schneep’s younger son, where’s the older child? Is he in the egos’ lives too? Still looking out for his younger brother, while driving their dad up the wall? Getting into mischief but would kill for his baby brother? Is he still Robbie’s older brother? ;)

incorrect-ego-quotes:

Robbie practically worships Anti. Smiling as he tackle hugs him to the ground. Nuzzling up to him like any excited child would – “Anti! Anti! Let’s do fun stuff!”

“Hey! Heeey!” Anti whines, giggling as he messes up Robbie’s purple hair. Chuckling as the undead ego tries to get back at him, “hell yeah, bud, we can do cool stuff. Ever shoplift?”

“Is it cool?”

Anti finally lets up, Robbie looking at him with total adoration in his eyes. A smile painted on his face as he waits for Anti’s answer. Schneeplestein nearby and shaking his head; what was it with those two? Anti, actually happy, and Robbie, excited beyond belief?

“See this?” Anti tugs at his leather jacket, “shoplifted it, I tried it on, got rid of the boring barcodes, and walked away with it for free.”

Oh no.

“Cool! It’s like trick or treat!”

“You got it, as long as you don’t get caught.” He snickers, “let’s try somewhere small for you. How about…the candy shop downtown?”

“Oh no,” Schneeplestein finally steps in, “absolutely not.”

“Why?!” The two whine in unison. Robbie’s puppy dog eyes in full effect.

“First of all, its way past your bedtime. Second of all, it’s /illegal/.”

“But!”

Anti sighs, standing up with Robbie, “hey, Doctor Fun Killer’s right bud. You should be getting some rest soon – you know how gross ya feel when you don’t get your 8 hours of sleep.”

“Anti! Really?!”

The slow nod Anti gave was enough to make Robbie tear up. Hugging him close as he whispered, “candy shop tomorrow?”

“Hell yeah, bud.”

“Anti! Don’t curse around Robbie, he’s easy to pick it up if you do–”

“Pssh, okay, Dad.”

Schneeplestein stops in his tracks.

Dad.

/Dad./

The word making him shiver. The word reminding him of Victor. The pouting he’d give when he’d pick him up from whatever high school party he had run off to. The rolling of blue eyes when Schneeplestein made him promise not to drink and drive. A typical teenager, know it all and sassy as can be.

Victor had a full ride scholarship to a university back home. One he’d never go to after that flight. His young life being cut short as the plane nosedived into the cool blue of the sea.

“What did you say…?” Schneeplestein huffs. He…surely heard wrong. He had to!

“I said ‘pssh, okay, doc.’ What? Going deaf like old 1920s Jack?” Anti teases. Ruffling Robbie’s hair as he leaves.

Sometimes, Schneeplestein can just see Victor in Anti. Other times, he just wants to sit and mourn for Victor.

But times like this?

Well, its enough to make a man of science believe in reincarnation.

cheeseanonioncrisps:

A lot of ‘humans are weird’ posts play with the idea that humans are one of the few species that actually evolved as a predator and, as such, we are unusually strong and fast— but what if we’re not.

What if we’re tiny?

What if, to the majority of species in the galaxy, ten feet tall is unusually short— it basically only happens due to rare genetic conditions— and the average human is basically cat sized or smaller?

Instead of being terrified by our strength, the aliens’ most pressing concern is how exactly they’re going to communicate with us when we’re all the way down on the ground.

There are experiments, with aliens crouching low or humans standing on high platforms— but it usually ends up being either uncomfortable for the alien or dangerous for the human, or both, and just generally impractical for everyone.

But, while the diplomats and politicians are trying to figure out a dignified and simple solution, the ordinary people who actually have to work with the aliens have found one. Humans are, generally, pretty good climbers, and most species have conveniently places scales, feathers, fur or clothing that can act as a hand or foothold. Sure, some humans have a fear of heights, but those aren’t typically the ones going into space. Besides, climbing on a living alien often feels safer than climbing up a rock or something— at least you know you’ve got somebody to catch you.

Soon it becomes accepted that that’s the way humans travel with aliens— up high, easy to see and hard to tread on (there were quite a few… near misses, in the first few meetings between humans and aliens), balanced on somebody’s shoulder like the overgrown monkeys that we are.

Many humans see this as kind of an insult and absolutely refuse to go along with it, but they aren’t the ones who end up spending a lot of time with aliens— it’s just too inconvenient to talk to somebody all the way down on the ground. The ones that do best are the ones who just treat it like it’s normal, allowing themselves to be carried (at least, it’s ‘carrying’ when the aliens are within earshot. Among themselves, most humans jokingly refer to it as ‘riding’), and passing on tips to their friends about the best ways to ride on different species without damaging feathers, or stepping on sensitive spots (or, in at least one case, ending up with a foot full of poisonous spines…).

The reason they don’t feel patronised by this is that they know, and they know that nearly everyone else in the galaxy knows, that humans are not just pets.

After all, you’d be surprised when a small size comes in handy.

Need somebody to look at the wiring in a small and fairly inaccessible area of the ship? Ask a human.

Need somebody to fix this fairly small and very detailed piece of machinery? Ask a human, they’re so small that their eyes naturally pick up smaller details.

Trapped under rubble and need somebody to crawl through a small gap and get help? Ask a human— most can wriggle through any gap that they can fit their head and shoulders through.

If you’re a friend, humans can be very useful. If, on the other hand, you’re an enemy…

Rumours spread all around the galaxy, of ships that threatened humans or human allies and started experiencing technical problems. Lights going off, wires being cut— in some cases, the cases where the threats were more than just words and humans or friends of humans were killed, life support lines have been severed, or airlocks have mysteriously malfunctioned and whole crews have been sucked out into space.

If the subject comes up, most humans will blame it on “gremlins” and exchange grim smiles when they’re other species friends aren’t looking.

By this point, most ships have a crew of humans, whether they like it or not. Lots of humans, young ones generally, the ones who want to see a bit of the universe but don’t have the money or connections to make it happen any other way, like to stowaway on ships. They’ll hang around the space ports, wait for a ship’s door to open and dart on in. The average human can have quite a nice time scurrying around in the walls of an alien ship, so long as they’re careful not to dislodge anything important.

Normally nobody notices them, and the ones that do tend not  to say anything— it’s generally recognised that having humans on your ship is good luck.

If there are humans on your ship, they say, then anything you lose will be found within a matter of days, sometimes even in your quarters; any minor task you leave out— some dishes that need to be cleaned, a report that needs to be spellchecked, some calculations that need to be done— will be quickly and quietly completed during the night; any small children on the ship, who are still young enough to start to cry in the night, will be soothed almost before their parents even wake, sometimes even by words in their own tongue, spoken clumsily through human vocal chords. If any of the human are engineers (and a lot of them are, and still more of them aren’t, but have picked up quite a few tricks on their travels from humans who are) then minor malfunctions will be fixed before you even notice them, and your ship is significantly less likely to experience any major problems.

The humans are eager to earn their keep, especially when the more grateful aliens start leaving out dishes of human-safe foods for them.

This, again, is considered good luck— especially since the aliens who aren’t kind to the humans often end up losing things, or waking up to find that their fur has been cut, or the report they spent hours on yesterday has mysteriously been deleted.

To human crew members, who work on alien ships out in the open, and have their names on the crew manifest and everything, these small groups of humans are colloquially referred to as ‘ship’s rats’. There’s a sort of uneasy relationship between the two groups. On the one hand, the crew members regard the ship’s rats as spongers and potential nuisances— on the other hand, most human crew members started out as ship’s rats themselves, and now benefit from the respect (and more than a little awe) that the ship’s rats have made most aliens feel for humans. The general arrangement is that ship’s rats try to avoid ships with human crew members and, when they can’t, then they make sure to stay out of the crew members’ way, and the crew members who do see one make sure not to mention them to any alien crew members.

The aliens who know, on the other hand, have gotten into the habit of not calling them by name— mainly because they’re shaky as the legality of this arrangement, and don’t want to admit that anything’s going on. Instead they talk about “the little people” or “the ones in the walls” or, more vaguely, “Them”.

Their human friends— balancing on their shoulders, occasionally scurrying down and arm so as to get to a table, or jumping from one person’s shoulder to another, in order to better follow the conversation— laugh quietly to themselves when they hear this.

Back before the first first contact, lot of people on Earth thought that humans would become space orcs. Little did they know, they’d actually end up as space fae.

Can I make a request? Going with the whole “Robbie is one of Shneep’s dead sons” thing… What if Shneep does a test and discovers Robbie is in fact the remains of his youngest son? Robbie finds him crying and doesn’t know why and wants to make him feel better and Shneep… I dunno how he’d react.

incorrect-ego-quotes:

He didn’t know how.

His mind screamed at him – no, this isn’t possible, Schneep! No way could this make sense! He…Jakob was 6 when he got on that flight. He was young, small, innocent – so full of life.

Robbie…Robbie had the body of a young man. A John Doe who was found washed up on some deserted beach. A man with no identity.

These tests have to be wrong.

The red letters stare back at Schneeplestein, as if trying to make themselves more prominent. As if screaming at him, ‘it’s true! It’s all true!’

The test results and samples he had taken from Robbie that day were positive. A positive ID to Jakob and Victor Schneeplestein. Two children who were suppose to be in a watery grave, yet…a piece of them just in the next room. A link between them and Schneeplestein alive /in the next room/.

/Jakob was in the next room, alive in the body of a poor man, left to die alone in the cold clutches of the ocean/.

It’s too much for him to handle. Schneeplestein throwing the papers and curling up. Sobbing. The sobbing of a broken and relieved man. The sobbing of a parent reuniting with their child.

Robbie shuffles awkwardly to the door. Opening it gently as he holds the teddy bear – Andy – to his chest. Something inside him – inside this rotting body of his, beckoned him closer. Slow movements reaching the doctor as the zombie dropped the plushie to the floor.

Embracing the doctor in a hug from behind. Tightly gripping, a warm rush of emotions bursting inside Robbie.

“…I love you, Doctor…”

Schneeplestein holds his arm, and clings. Clings on as tightly as he could.

“…I love you too, Jakob.”

ENOUGH

egosurveillance:

markiplier:

I have had enough. For the first time in my years online I am dissapointed of what has become of this community. I can’t believe that you’ve allowed yourself to be torn apart by the scheming rumors of a few. I can’t believe that you’d ignore the greater cause of why we are here for your own personal satisfaction. I can’t believe that you’d think that I am worth squabbling over.

If you think that this community is about any one individual’s standing over anyone else, including myself, then you are in the wrong place. If you have ever belittled, threatened, insulted, or berated anyone else in the community FOR ANY REASON then you are in the wrong. I don’t even care if you think I’m missing the point of why you’re waging your own personal war. IT ENDS TONIGHT. And more to the point let me ask you one question that you really need to reflect on:

Are you making the world a better place?

If you want to squabble and bicker about gossip and problems, take it somewhere else. Here. Right here. We build each other up. We never bring each other down. We NEVER threaten each other. We never attack those whose opinions may differ from our own. In this community we hold ourselves to a higher standard to show an EXAMPLE of what a true community should be to the rest of the world. I will not stand for this pointless arguing. I WILL NOT STAND FOR IT. 

And if you think for even one second that I’ll allow this to continue then you are dead wrong. I may want to make the world smile but you can be DAMN sure that I’ll protect what this community represents with my life. We are better than this. We are stronger than this. It’s time to change. And it starts tonight.

-Mark

this was posted who knows how long ago, but it still stands. especially now.