EDITED, Because I was wrong on some facts. Thanks tumblr people for correcting me.
Humans are (supposed to be) a daylight species. We have excellent colour definition, possibly some the best in the animal kingdom, depth perception which is second to none and excellent ability to detect movement and spot predators who are even camouflaged against their usual prey. Our circadian rhythms are tuned for daylight hours. We wake with the sunrise and get sleepy with the sunset.
We have poor night vision and humans are, from birth, afraid of three things; the dark, falling & loud noises.
However…. some people seem naturally night people, working at their best as the sun goes down and staying up all night to work or play. The rest of us can adjust our rhythms For some people it’s easy, others not so much but we can still do it and usually with only a couple of days to adjust fully. We can work night-shifts and sleep during the day; the exact opposite of what we’ve evolved for. And should our night jobs end and go back to day jobs, we adjust back even quicker. No other animal on the planet has the ability to adjust its natural rhythms as well as we do. Day creatures can be trained to work at night, night creatures can be active during the day, however they are known to be uncomfortable and not at their best during these times.
It makes sense that spaceships would have some kind of day/night cycle to help people maintain normal circadian rhythms. with brighter lights during the day and dimmer lights coming on at night. So, imagine aliens, either nocturnal, diurnal, or crepuscular (most active at twilight). Yet no matter when these aliens wake up, there’s always a human kicking around and doing stuff and they seem to be working at their best like this is their natural time.
Human: *is getting 3am bowl of cereal*
Alien: Why are you awake? According to your biology you should be in a state of rest.
Human: *through a mouthful of crunchy nut* Yeah but I didn’t feel like it
Alien: frowns, but nods
*next morning*
Human: *is munching on crunchy nut*
Alien: wtf I saw you doing this 3 hours ago
Human: *groans* coffee
Alien: Whahat are you doing according to your circadian rythms you should be asleep for at least 4 more hours
Batman did not look up from the screens of the computer in the Batcave. “You didn’t say you were going to be in town,” he said, still typing.
“Oracle said you were out of state for work the last few days,” Nightwing said, leaning against the desk once he was close enough. As the desk was massive, this was still a significant distance from Batman. “You didn’t call me in.”
“She shouldn’t have mentioned it,” he said, still typing. Different windows were popping up onto different screens, databases and tables and terminal commands. “You have enough to worry about.”
“I can still cover a night shift or two.”
“It was handled.”
Nightwing made a sound both thoughtful and suspicious. “So,” he said, “someone stole the Batmobile.”
Batman paused. He turned his head just enough to see the Batmobile, parked exactly where he’d left it. He turned his head the other way, just enough to look at Nightwing for the first time. He’d started sitting on the desk, his toes only barely able to brush the ground.
“Not ours,” Nightwing clarified.
“Is there another one.”
“That Netflix show,” he said, and Batman did an almost-nod of acknowledgement before returning his attention back to whatever script he was running. “They had a big reveal of a new Batmobile this season, they auctioned off the old one for charity. I’m sure you heard about it.”
“What they do with their show isn’t my business,” Batman said.
“Uh-huh,” Nightwing said. “You really didn’t see any of this in the news? It’s been pretty nonstop since last night.”
“I was working.”
Nightwing put his hands on the edge of the desk, and kicked his feet upward to do a handstand apropos of nothing. “Too hard to see any news, all day.”
“I may have seen something about it,” Batman conceded.
“I’m sure you have theories about who did it.”
“It’s outside our jurisdiction.”
“Your business trip was in…” Nightwing asked, swinging off the table to stand.
“Jacksonville.”
“Did you pick that to help you get in character as Florida Man?”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“I want to know where you found a pink Batman costume in that size,” Nightwing continued.
“I didn’t.”
“The pictures are–I’m having them framed, I hope you know that.”
Batman’s mouth twitched.
“I’m so mad you didn’t call me,” Nightwing said, leaning against the desk again. “I know this place that sells rainbow Robin costumes with hotpants and a crop top–”
“Absolutely not.”
Kitty what the fuck, I knew you were writing this and that news article looked so real that I actually thought I was reading an article for about ten seconds
i comforted myself with the thought that in the future it will be a lot easier to make fake gotham gazette articles
It’s funny how science fiction universes so often treat humans as a boring, default everyman species or even the weakest and dumbest.
I want to see a sci fi universe where we’re actually considered one of the more hideous and terrifying species.
How do we know our saliva and skin oils wouldn’t be ultra-corrosive to most other sapient races? What if we actually have the strongest vocal chords and can paralyze or kill the inhabitants of other worlds just by screaming at them? What if most sentient life in the universe turns out to be vegetable-like and lives in fear of us rare “animal” races who can move so quickly and chew shit up with our teeth?
Like that old story “they’re made of meat,” only we’re scarier.
HOLY SHIT THEY EAT CAPSAICIN FOR FUN
YOU GUYS I HEARD A HUMAN ONCE ATE AN AIRPLANE.
A HUMAN CAN KEEP FIGHTING FOR HOURS EVEN AFTER YOU SHOOT IT
humans are a proud warrior race with a pantheon of bloody gods: Ram-Bo, Schwarzenegger, etc.
REMOVING A LIMB WILL NOT FATALLY INCAPACITATE HUMANS: ALWAYS DESTROY THE HEAD.
WARNING: HUMANS CAN DETECT YOU EVEN AT NIGHT BY TRACKING VIBRATIONS THROUGH THE ATMOSPHERE
WARNING: HUMANS CAN REPRODUCE AT A RATE OF 1 PER SPACEYEAR. DESTROY INFESTATIONS IMMEDIATELY
THE HUMAN MOUTH HAS OVER THIRTY OUTCROPS OF BONE AND POWERFUL JAW MUSCLES.
HUMAN BITES CAN BE FATALLY INFECTIOUS EVEN TO OTHER HUMANS
WARNING: HUMANS CAN AND WILL USE IMPROVISED WEAPONS. SEE CLASSIFIED DATA LABELED J. CHAN.
HUMANS CAN PROJECT BIOWEAPONS FROM ALMOST EVERY ORIFICE ON THEIR BODY. DO NOT INHALE
OH GOD THE HUMANS FIGURED OUT DOOR HANDLES OH GOD OH GOD
More seriously, humans do have a number of advantages even among Terrestrial life. Our endurance, shock resistance, and ability to recover from injury is absurdly high compared to almost any other animal. We often use the phrase “healthy as a horse” to connote heartiness – but compared to a human, a horse is as fragile as spun glass. There’s mounting evidence that our primitive ancestors would hunt large prey simply by following it at a walking pace, without sleep or rest, until it died of exhaustion; it’s called pursuit predation. Basically, we’re the Terminator.
(The only other animal that can sort of keep up with us? Dogs. That’s why we use them for hunting. And even then, it’s only “sort of”.)
Now extrapolate that to a galaxy in which most sapient life did not evolve from hyper-specialised pursuit predators:
Our strength and speed is nothing to write home about, but we don’t need to overpower or outrun you. We just need to outlast you – and by any other species’ standards, we just plain don’t get tired.
Where a simple broken leg will cause most species to go into shock and die, we can recover from virtually any injury that’s not immediately fatal. Even traumatic dismemberment isn’t necessarily a career-ending injury for a human.
We heal from injuries with extreme rapidity, recovering in weeks from wounds that would take others months or years to heal. The results aren’t pretty – humans have hyperactive scar tissue, among our other survival-oriented traits – but they’re highly functional.
Speaking of scarring, look at our medical science. We developed surgery centuries before developing even the most rudimentary anesthetics or life support. In extermis, humans have been known to perform surgery on themselves – and survive. Thanks to our extreme heartiness, we regard as routine medical procedures what most other species would regard as inventive forms of murder. We even perform radical surgery on ourselves for purely cosmetic reasons.
In essence, we’d be Space Orcs.
Our jaws have too many TEETH in them, so we developed a way to WELD METAL TO OUR TEETH and FORCE THE BONES IN OUR JAW to restructure over the course of years to fit them back into shape, and then we continue to wear metal in out mouths to keep them in place.
We formed cohabitative relationships with tiny mammals and insects we keep at bay from bothering us by death, often using little analouge traps.
And by god, we will eat anything.
We use borderline toxic peppers to season our food.
We expose ourselves to potentially lethal solar radiation in the pursuit of darkening our skin.
We risk hearing loss for the opportunity to see our favorite musicians live.
We have a game where two people get into an enclosed area and hit each other until time runs out/one of them pass out
We willingly jump out of planes with only a flimsy piece of cloth to prevent us from splattering against the ground.
Our response to natural disasters is to just rebuild our buildings in the exact same places.
We climb mountains and risk freezing to death for bragging rights
We invented dogs. We took our one time predators and completely domesticated them.
On a planet full of lions, tigers and bears, we managed to advance further and faster than any other species on the planet.
Klingons and Krogan and Orcs ain’t got shit on us
We drink ethanol (in concentrations high enough to be used as an effective as microbicide or a solvent!) for the express purpose of achieving blood toxicity and disrupting normal brain function… AS A RECREATIONAL ACTIVITY!
On the same subject, we also deliberately incinerate assorted substances and then inhale the particulate-heavy smoke and vapor resulting for the same effect. EVEN IN THE FACE OF SAID SUBSTANCES BEING CARCINOGENIC, BECAUSE WE JUST DON’T GIVE A FUCK.
Humans do not have biological castes. Kill their commander and another will take its place. Soldiers left alone on a planet will start farming and manufacturing to survive. Farmers and manufacturers will take up arms and kill you if pressed. Just because two humans look different doesn’t mean they cannot do each other’s jobs.
Breeding does not kill them. A single human can mate dozens or hundreds of times in a lifetime. They often do so as recreation. Xenobiology team six believes they do not have a mating season but this is too strange to be true.
Their appendages are not designed for hitting, so they developed special training to make them very good at hitting anyhow.
The proteins making up their bodies are toxic and cause prion disease. Do not touch anything humans have touched. Do not consume earth foods. Fire does not adequately remove this contamination.
Humans perceive sixteen times the colors we do. Do not hide in bushes or vines from humans. They can distinguish your pelt from the foliage with ease.
We tried venting waste gas into the tunnels to kill the humans when they attacked. Turns out they breathe it.
Everything on their planet came from a single biological strain. They developed comprehensive genetics BEFORE they developed space travel.
They lack radio receptors and cannot be brought into compliance with right-thought simply by broadcasting to them. Even after we learned how to translate it into sound-waves one of their hatchlings drove the Great Authority mad by responding to every demand with a single question: “Why?”
It would be interesting to meet a species with fewer senses than humans have. Aliens who cannot see or hear would view our ability to do so like we would look at telepathy or precognition.
They compensate for their own lack of natural camouflage by TERRAFORMING THEIR ENVIRONMENT TO MATCH THEIR NEEDS
They are HIGHLY RESISTANT to temperature change.
They PUT METAL AND INK IN THEIR HIDES FOR FUN
They are SO SECURE in their position as predator over prey that they have developed and wear an array of decorative and protective wear in colors so bright that it challenges any other species to just /try/ to mess with them. However, they have also developed highly effective materials that both swallow light and completely divert it, effectively creating invisibility, as well as perfect camouflage for everything from deserts to tundra to water to forest to jungle.
THEY SEND HUNDREDS OF LOUD EXPLOSIVES INTO THE AIR BECAUSE THEY LIKE THE PRETTY COLORS
They have managed to harness ENERGY ITSELF to heal themselves.
They as a species can climb sheer rock surfaces and trees, AND walk and run (Even those that have lost their limbs being able to attach prosthetics or use contraptions to get around) AND THEY SWIM AND FLY AND GO IN SPACE AND THERE IS NO ESCAPE FROM THEM????
They are so persistent and patient as to carve into rocks for massive amounts of time in the name of preservation of history, and have elevated it to an art form.
Mermaids as fun drinks!!! 😀 I’m going to be selling these designs tomorrow todayshhdontjudgemeandmypoorsleephabits as stickers at an event at my college. Would have made more but ran out of time ;w;
Oh geez, this isn’t half the story. Buckle up kids. This is wild.
The inventor is Paul Winchell, who started off doing Dummy shows on the radio. His star rises, TV happens, and he enters a dancing contest where he WON AGAINST RICARDO MONTALBALN.
Mr. Montalbaln was SO IMPRESSED that he invited Paul Winchell to dinner. At dinner he was seated next to A PRE FAME DR HEIMLICH.
YES. OF THE HEIMLICH MANEUVER.
They hit it off and somehow Paul Winchell is invited to watch Heimlich and others do operations.
AGAIN, HE’S A VENTRILOQUIST AND A HOST OF THINGS. I DON’T KNOW HOW HE WON THE DANCE CONTEST THAT STARTED THIS THING.
Which leads to the following conversation.
Winchell: Hey, what if someone invented an artificial heart so someone can get blood pumped during surgery.
Heimlich: That would be a swell idea.
W: So, uh, as I make my own dummies, a heart can’t be too different.
H: I guess? It’s worth a shot.
W: And as I don’t know anything about, well, how hearts work. Can you answer any questions and help out to make sure it’s all correct?
H: I’d be delighted!
Cue a LONG time working on this. And while Winchell EVENTUALLY gets it patent-worthy (at Hemlich’s suggestion) it can’t actually, well, work. The battery it takes to run it was too large and burnt out easily.
But all modern artifical hearts are based on that design.
Again, this started when a VENTRILOQUIST BEAT AN ACCOMPLISHED DANCER IN A DANCE CONTEST.
(Paul Winchell has several other patents including: a disposable razor, a plasma defroster, and did a lot of work for the Leukemia Foundation and the red cross. He also did attempt to get a medical degree later and did some medical hypnosis)
Somehow, you, a perfectly ordinary human, has ended up the alpha of a pack of werewolves.
A Little Bit
The trick, she discovers, is kindness.
~
Werewolves are notoriously violent. They are said to “lose all autonomy” on night of the full moon, and transforming on other days still results in “heightened levels of testosterone and violence.”
If you tell someone that they are something their whole lives– if you tell a little girl that the color white is purple, that she is dumb because she writes backwards, or that she is bad because her hair or her financial situation, she will believe that. She will grow into that. If you tell a werewolf that they are evil and violent when wolves, that at their freest they are their meanest: they will believe that. They will become that. They will expect that of other werewolves and become defensive, will have bred hatred for their brethren before they ever transform.
An outsider’s perspective is sometimes needed.
And it starts, as most things do, with a child.
~
“Look,” her brown fingers forcefully unfolded from the fist it had been making. “I know what I want. I want the child you said you couldn’t even find fosters for. I already signed the paperwork!”
The social worker sighed, skin washing out under the light and wrinkles deepening. “I have to make sure. I’ve been trying to find little Zora parents for years now, but…”
“The only issue would be health issues. I can afford an unhealthy or disabled child, so that’s not an issue for me at all. I don’t get why you’re being so–”
“Zora is a werewolf.”
Silence.
Hailey took a breath. Let it out.
“So?”
The social worker smiled, “Then one more signature, and in a few weeks you will have your child, and Zora will have her home.”
Neither of them mentioned his tears. They both talked over what she would need to buy to handle a werewolf child– her werewolf child. They drank tea. She signed papers.
She would never regret that.
~
Zora had the yellow eyes of all lycans. She grinned shyly with too-sharp teeth, and fiddled with her too-long nails.
Hailey gave Zora the softest blanket she could buy, and settled her down for hot chocolate as they watched the sun set from the porch.
She had dimples and threw her hands around and enjoyed talking. And loved the color green. And brown. And blue. Maybe red was her favorite color, but pink was certainly a close second. No, wait, purple. She liked ice cream and steak and chicken and flowers that grew between the cracks of the sidewalk.
Zora was perfect.
The doctor said that Zora would transform the next full moon. To lock her in a cage. To muzzle her. To chain her up.
Hailey looked at Zora. At her large yellow eyes so filled with hope. At the way she used her too-long nails to open bags of chips or used her too-long teeth to open cans. At the sundresses she wore; pictured the paint-stained overalls. The room they had painted like a galaxy, the glow-in-the-dark stars they’d taped and hung on her ceiling.
She thought about the small, lycan-run website she made, and some controversial, revolutionary ideas it proposed.
She snorted. Yeah, right. Lock and chain her child up? No.
~
The first transformation was always painful. An online forum said nothing more than a Aspirin or two could be taken for this first Shift.
“Mom?” Zora’s lips wobbled. Her bushy hair tangled from the nervous pulling it had endured that day. “I– I don’t want to be bad, mom. Will the Shift make me bad?”
Hailey could have said anything to that, and no one would blame her. She could say it’s not you, it’s the wolf, like one website recommended. She could say yes, and every second you have to fight against the evil inside you, like one Christian-extremist group urged. She could have said anything. She said,
“No. You are good, and the wolf is a part of you, so it must be good, too.”
And it was that simple.
The moon rose. A daughter screamed, a mother cried. A mother prepared to have to wrestle her child, so much stronger than her, to have to assert an unwanted dominance.
A werewolf– too large to be a real wolf, spine to straight, claws too split, to be something so mundane. It yipped. Saw the hesitation in the mother’s eyes. Rolled onto its back, tongue lolling, and yipped again.
Hailey laughed. “Good girl! I love you so much! Want pets, or play?” A yip, the lycan bounded off. More laughter. “Play it is, then!”
~
There’d been complaints. A neighbor said they “feared for their life” and that “the lycan had attacked” her. Zora didn’t leave the backyard, despite how much she wanted to. So, once a month, they drove to a werewolf forest-reserve. They hadn’t encountered any other lycans.
Until then.
A grey wolf burst out from the bushes, snarling and snapping. Intent on Zora. Zora.
“Zora!” Hailey didn’t need to think, she was moving before words could form.
“Don’t you DARE touch my daughter!” She stood in front of Zora, arms spread wide.
That did not deter the lycan, who prowled closer. Yellow eyes. She could not hurt yellow eyes. But she must.
~
Werewolves have exceptionally large forms. A younger, adolescent lycanthrope in its Shifted form can easily tower over an adult man. These large forms are one of their greatest assets: they can overpower their prey though sheer size. It is, however, also a weakness. For, you see, their vulnerable points are that much more exposed. Which is why, if one becomes cornered by a Shifted lycanthrope, it is recommend that you strike at their diaphragm or throat, if help cannot be contacted, before absconding away as quickly as humanly (or superhumanly) possible.
~
She rushed forward, swinging her elbow and digging it into the small hollow near the creatures chest. It yowled, falling to the side. It growled and backed away.
Zora whimpered, tail between her legs and ears down. She nuzzled at her mother worriedly, terrified of the bigger werewolf and scared for her mother’s life.
“It’s okay, baby.” she hushed, holding out a spray-bottle (Zola loved to try to bite the sprays of water) like it was a gun, eyes never leaving the (violent, evil, human) attacking lycan. “See? Mommy knows what she’s doing.”
She stepped forward once. Twice. Four steps and then she hit a stride. She stood nose-to-nose with the lycan, all five-feet of her stretching tall, towering in presence if not height.
“Bad.” The lycan growled. She sprayed it twice in quick succession. “Bad.”
It blinked. Surprised.
“Now, if you wanted to play, you could have just waited!” She turned, walking purposefully in Zora’s direction. “Come along, now.”
They did come along, by lunging. Zora howled, bunching up her muscles and preparing to attack, but Hailey whirled around, spraying their face. “Don’t be mean! We don’t want to fight. I have steak, and am willing to share. But only to those who play. Nice.” They considered, head tilting, before thumping to the ground and rolling over, whining.
Hailey laughed, but wiped the anxious sweat from her forehead. “Okay, let’s go!”
~
The next full moon, the black-and-white wolf found her, a pack behind them, all barking and waiting for plays and pets and meat.
~
The full moon after that, everyone fell asleep just before the sun rose, and Hailey met them as people.
Hardin was the black-and-white, and she was alpha. Or rather, she had been.
“What.” Hailey couldn’t comprehend.
“My name used to be Phir’Hilaaya, but now it is Hardin. Normal pack members are given two-syllable names. The Alpha gets three-syllables. As previous Alpha, I name you Melora.” Hardin was gigantic in her human form, as well. Hulking muscles, and she stood at least at six-foot. Her yellow eyes had become softer than when Hailey– Melora?–
“Okay, yeah. I get that part. But how did I become Alpha?” She bit her lip, held Zora closer to her.
Hardin gave her a look like she was particular stupid, but humored her regardless. “That first night, I showed my belly to you. An Alpha can never submit to an opponent, else they lose their place. I submitted to you, so you are Alpha.”
Hailey hunched in on herself, and whispered, “I don’t know how to be Alpha.”
“That’s okay,” Hardin put an arm around her shoulders, giving her a kind smile, “I’ll help you get on your feet.”
Melora stood taller. Looked at her daughter. And knew.
~
Melora’s pack was not the first to fight for werewolf rights. No, they were simply the first to have a human leading the pack, and for that human-Alpha to be dating the previous Alpha.
As they strode towards a better world, a better life, Melora suggested, “Maybe we can help the vampire community, once we make more progress here.”
Hardin, bouncing Zora on her hip, barked a laugh, “You’re too good. But wherever you go, we’ll follow.” Howls broke out around the Alpha.
Hailey, now Melora, had known she wouldn’t regret this.
A little bit of kindness goes a long way.
~Fin~
Oh, geeze. This was supposed to be a little thing, but I wrote six pages on google docs for this and hrrrggghhh. I didn’t get to include everything I wanted, otherwise it would have taken hours longer! I hope this is something like you were imagining for your prompt idea. I wish I had more time to do things for this, but it wasn’t meant to be D:
This isn’t written in my usual style, but it was fun. I hope anyone reading this enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
[Yasmin Benoit: You barely see asexual people as it is, let alone a black asexual person.
I am a model and an asexuality activist, and I am an aromantic asexual.
There was never really a time where I didn’t think I was asexual. I noticed when I was about eight and I was in primary school like everyone’s hormones seemed to kick in and all of a sudden the boys and girls didn’t want to just play with each other; they were going out with each other and they fancied each other and I was like, “Alright, what’s this?”
The default is straight so when people would ask me I’d be like “Well I guess I’m straight but I don’t like boys.” And they were like: “Well then you’re probably not straight.” They said: “Well do you like girls?” and I was like “No, I don’t really like anybody.” And they were like: “Well maybe you’re asexual or something?” And I was like “Alright, that sounds good.” So I Googled that and I was like “Yeah, sounds about right.” So when I was about 14, I just started using that word.
I find that most of the time, in my personal life, people just kind of re-interpret it their own way. So I’ll say: “Hey, I’m asexual” and they’ll be like: “Oh ok, so you’re well behaved.” They’ll just switch it. I’ll be like “I’m asexual” and they’ll be like: “Oh, you’ll find the right person, don’t worry” and I’ll be like “That’s not what I said.”
It has nothing to do with being a prude, it has nothing to do with being insecure, and antisocial, and introverted. It has nothing to do with how you look—that’s something I get a lot—people are like: “Oh but you’re good looking, you don’t need to be asexual,” which usually tells me that A) people think that there is an asexual look and that it isn’t a good one, and 2) that asexuality is a choice that people take when they can’t get dates or that they can’t get laid, which is really strange.
One of the benefits of being asexual is definitely that you don’t have to worry about–if you’re aromantic—you really don’t worry about relationship stuff. I know some asexual people do worry about that but I don’t have that problem.
I think that representation is definitely very important because I think the LGBTQIA+ community in general is pretty whitewashed in its representation. That is not only ironic for the community that’s supposed to be so inclusive and diverse if it doesn’t look like that, it’s also counterproductive for minorities that are part of it because it’s kind of seen as being a white thing, which definitely doesn’t help when you are trying to come out and people don’t take it seriously in your community because it’s seen as being this white kid thing.
Even in the LGBTQIA community, I find that people tend to cut out the A or think that the A stands for allies. I notice a lot of the time in organisations or in the media, people only care about the LGBT part and even though they put the plus, they don’t actually acknowledge the plus. But last time I checked the community is about, you know, people that aren’t heteronormative and they don’t fit that and it’s supposed to be inclusive of that. I think that LGBTQIA+ platforms should do a better job of acknowledging what’s in the plus and not just the LGB and the T.]
