#humans are space velociraptors

[wemlygust]

I am so deeply frustrated that the Humans Are Space Orcs tag has 45 pages of fics on ao3, and 78 pages of bookmarks on ao3, and it's *still* not marked common and can't be filtered on, even though I KNOW I'm not the only one who reads these fics across fandoms. It's like a cross fandom fandom. People even write original works on ao3 and tumblr and reddit as Humans Are Space Orcs. That's not even accounting for synonym tags like Humans are Space Velocirators, Earth is a Deathworld, Humans Are Deathworlders, Earth is Space Australia, etc. None of which are treated as synonyms or grouped together, and none of which are marked common. Some people even made a freeform Humans Are Space Orcs - Fandom tag, and that's not grouped in with the others or filterable or an officially findable/usable fandom tag either. What other fandom/trope has THIS MANY TAGS to describe it, and so many places they're used, and yet... Nope, the tags aren't marked common, and you can't apply filters to them? I've never seen any others that were quite this ignored. (Maybe they exist nonetheless though - feel free to reblog and gripe about your fav "uncommon" tags if so.) I even contacted ao3 support and asked for help with this once, literal years ago, and here we are years later, and still no. Even though there are many much less popular/much less often used tags that *are* marked common. I feel like this is an anvil weighing down what could have been/could be a vibrant fandom. People can't search for and find the fic properly if we can't filter it and sort it or see all the synonymous tags together! It's hard to even search and find if there are any new ones I haven't read already, because I can't even do a filter "sort by new" search! Let alone sort by kudos or use time ranges or etc. Call me dramatic, but having to fight all this every time I want to engage with this cross-fandom fandom/trope/whatever-you-wanna-call-it kinda makes me wanna cry sometimes. It's been like this for years now! And I'm still wanting to read these fics, and I still can't search for them properly because of this problem that is still here! Help! Filtering on an individual other fandom tag, with Humans are Space Orcs as an additional tag, doesn't work either, because Humans are Space Orcs fics are too spread out between various other fandoms. You can only find a sliver of the existing fics that way, and only if you try it on, like, every fandom under the sun. We shouldn't have to do that.

I think this must also be part of why there's so many Humans Are Space Orcs originals that get posted everywhere BUT ao3. Here on tumblr, and even on reddit - there's a whole subreddit for it - and peoples' own websites. Which is fine, people are allowed to do that, but it means all that writing is more vulnerable to potentially getting taken down or lost than if it could be easily shared on the archive as well. And it's hard to find, let alone search through for the best stuff. I dare say it's hidden from new people who might want to discover it, too. Please mark at least some of these tags common and group their synonyms, ao3. I'm begging here.

[narswriting]

theres like. 20 or so "human gets adopted by aliens/lost in space/humans are space orcs/earth is space Australia" trope fics for sleepy bois inc. i dont even go to that fandom and ive read most of them by now. but theres very few of them for hermitcraft. and im starving

and im this close to writing my own

the arizona dads are like. *right there.* gem would be so feral/resourceful. throw in some pearl and mumbo and all of the rest of the hermits/lifers??? oh my goodness. chefs kiss. the potential. do you see my vision??

[ghostyclay]

My favorite trope will always be "X finds [insert incredibily dangerous species/thing/person/etc.] but has no idea it's dangerous. Everyone else is terrified and confused bc how is X still alive???"

[shepgarrus]

@otemporanerys @misseffect

Do you have a human Garrus design to go with your Thane??? He(Thane) looks so good, I absolutely love how you destined him!

Also, if your Shepard wasn’t human, which race would she be?

Here’s a cleaned up version of my human Garrus design anon! And if my shep wasn’t human I think she’d very much be a Turian but I haven’t doodled her just yet!

[tubbytarchia]

Etho doodles in which I let my inner dinosaur nerd take over 😔 and also have no idea how to shade

Get it cause he's old and washed up haha... ok but actual raptor Etho hybrid justification below cut

To be honest the main reason was because I really wanted a hybrid in the mix who wasn't some furry creature and a reptile or amphibian or smth instead. Etho still ended up feathered but whatever it's close enough! But for ACTUAL reasoning:

He does feel damn ancient, like an old deity of the mcyt space that no one can dislike. Dinosaurs are the same!! They're old but still thought of with great fascination and fondness, everyone loves dinosaurs...

Dinosaurs are ever so mysterious, as many advancements as we make there's still so much we don't know. Just as we know jackshit about mister Kakashi skin man. Also, there are so many incomplete skeletons out there. I didn't have a particular species in mind for Etho, because where's the mystery in that? He can be one of those 5% skeleton 95% speculation dinosaurs like this guy!! Missing jaw and all

"I'm a runner, not a protector" - so, a raptor, or more specifically the Dromaeosauridae family, which literally has "running/runner" in its name

But! I'm always a fan of stuff going against its nature, especially in this case! Etho states he's not a runner yet protects his allies rather fiercely even in total silence. Eg refusing to kill Cleo in SL or to give away Tango's location during the LimL manhunt, same for Grian in SL. He was a bit flaky in 3L I think? And he only started to have genuine care for allies in LL with Bdubs? Though he is still very much a runner in many cases like during the LL Wither fight. Research also strongly suggests that most if not all raptors were solitary hunters, and the way I see Etho (through my shamefully limited watchtime of his POVs...) he feels a lot like someone who ultimately only trusts himself at the start even if he's pleasant and allying with others, and doesn't seem to think he can carry his weight in groups though he doesn't voice this a lot. That's just how Etho is, very composed, but it feels like there's an insecurity there, showcased especially in SL but again I haven't seen almost any of his POVs in full so maybe I'm talking out of my ass!! Sorry ethogirls I'm only a sidegig ethogirl myself... But yeah tldr to me he gives off the vibe of an otherwise solitary animal struggling to find 100% sure footing in a pack. In whichever ways he does go against his nature, its not usually made a show of

At the mention of a raptor, a lot of people will probably think of the glamourized Jurassic Park Velociraptors. But those awesome guys from the movies are actually the size of chickens. In general though, dinosaurs tend to be a bit.. exaggerated in media, despite how inherently fascinating they already are. And I think it fits Etho because we all know how the Lifers seem to fear and mancrush on him when he's just some dork with perfect capability to become pathetic at a moment's notice. Still, he's a clearly skilled player and still respected without question Etho's not some killer machine like some people make dinosaurs out to be. He's just a fellow creature fulfilling his role in the ecosystem 👍

dinosaurs are cool

The hook-like sickle claws on the feet... something something fishing rod

I swear I'm not turning all my Lifers into hybrids I'm not!! Still plenty normal humans in the mix I swear....... But Etho is such a radical dude, I really wanted to do something more for him. The whole Kitsune thing that I often see associated with him is really cool. I don't actually know the reasoning for it but I assume something something naruto, but also, him being this ancient mythical cryptid who people know so little about, you know? It makes SO much sense. So anyway I turned him into a dinosaur instead rawr

As a herbivore advocate I also considered stuff like the triceratops (known for how they protect themselves and their own) but nah the raptor symbolism...

[vivwritesfics]

Bones

Chapter One

You, a behavioural analyst. Rooster, a trainer. Hangman, a rich kid. Bob, a palaeontologist. Phoenix, an archaeologist. It kinda made sense that you'd all fall for each other

Jurassic Park AU

Eventual Poly!Squad

Chapter Two

You kicked your legs as you sat on the walkway above the Velociraptor enclosure. It was high enough up that they couldn’t snap at your legs as you watched them. It was an exercise Bradley hadn’t tried before, all of them together in the enclosure.

The training paddock was small, barren. But it was for a good reason. They gathered by the gate as Bradley tried something new with them. It had been your idea to try training them all together, to see if they could distinguish between the commands given to them and the commands given to their sisters.

“Rio, circle!” Bradley shouted and the Velociraptor at the back of the pack ran to stand in front of the circle symbol attached to the bars of the gate. The rest of the Raptors stayed where they were, eyes trained on Bradley. He clicked the clicker, fed Rio her treat of a dead chick, and turned his attention to the other girls.

You made a note of what he had done, of Rio’s attention. She was the smallest of the Raptors, easily hidden by the others feathers. Bradley’s favourite, and he was bad at hiding it.

He gave more commands and they listened, only sometimes getting confused. Rio was by far the best, obeying every single one of Bradley's commands. Anything for chicks, you knew from studying her.

But, when your walkie talkie made a noise, all eyes were on you. Yellow, eyes like cats, they watched you as if you had become their prey. But you were safe on the walkway, you knew that. Still, you tucked your legs in.

“Hey! Eyes on me!” Bradley snapped his fingers and they looked away from you. “Come on, girls. We were doing so well.”

But their concentration had left and they ran away from the gate Bradley had been safely behind.

You made another note and stood up. You left the walkway, shut the gate behind you and walked down the stairs to get to Bradley. Several chicks remained in the bucket when you got down to him, evidence of the training still left to do.

“Sorry, Rooster,” you mumbled, a gate between you. One for him, to practice training with protected contact, and one for the personnel allowed near this Raptor enclosure, an enclosure built just for training. All of it had been your idea.

Your area of expertise was a niche one, one that professor Tom Kazansky had let you hone. Nobody had ever studied in this field before; it was the first time these animals and humans had coexisted.

It was a tough job, considering you were the only one doing it. You with all the species in the park. You had your favourites, although you tried not to let it show. But the parasaurolophus has a special place in your heart.

“No, it's okay,” Bradley mumbled as he picked up the bucket and pressed the button that released him. “They were probably done for the day anyway.” He gave you a soft smile, a reassurance that you hadn’t done anything wrong. “What did they want?”

You pulled your walkie talkie from your belt and pushed the button on the side. “This is Bones, receiving, over,” you said and pulled your finger from the button, waiting for a response. You couldn’t help but look concentrated as you waited for the response.

To Bradley, it was garbled shit he couldn’t hear. But you gave a nod and an appropriate response. “It’s release time,” you said to him, a grin on his face as you pushed your notebooks into his arms and started back towards the stairs. You ran up them, scanned your pass to enter the walkway.

“All right everyone!” Bradley shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth to project his voice. “Get ready to release!”

Final checks were done, ensuring the enclosure was safe, ensuring there was no way for the Raptors to get out. You leaned over the edge of the walkway, looking into the wide open space they were being released out into. Much, much bigger, with space for them to roam as a group or split off. Their dinner had been released a good ten minutes before, allowing them to hunt for it.

The gate raised up and the girls lifted their heads. They chirped, communicating before they started running, heading towards the open gate.

It had all been your idea, the bigger space for them to run around in. They used to be kept in a little training paddock, but you had watched them run around, pace the edge of the paddock. After that you went to Tom, the owner of the park, and begged him to build them a bigger pasture. He gave you all of the resources you needed to get it built.

They disappeared from view and you pushed away from the railing. Heading off of the walkway, you walked down the stairs and met Bradley at the bottom. You took your notebooks from him and followed him to the Bronco. “Where else have you got to go today?” He asked as he began driving away from the Raptor enclosure.

You flipped through your notebook and found your schedule. Being the only behavioural analyst in the park was hard work, and you relied heavily on cameras. “Wanna help me look at the footage from the Brontosaurus paddock?” You offered, blinking at him in a way that you knew would get him to agree.

His arm was thrown over your seat as he nodded. You didn't really need to ask, Bradley would do anything for you anyway. You climbed out of your seat to give him a kiss on the cheek and sat back down to review your notes from the last time gathering data on the Brontosaurus herd.

The Velociraptors were Bradley's girls, and these were your girls. The first gate into the Brontosaurus paddock swung open, closing behind you as you drove towards the next. Two gates, just in case.

The next gate swung open and the herd looked up. It was an incredible sight, their long necks stretching towards the sky. They made noises, communicating with each other as you and Bradley drove on.

One Brontosaurus broke away from the rest of the herd. You didn't have to look at the tracking app on your phone to know exactly who was approaching you.

Two years ago, after a month in the park, a Brontosaurus had struggled to hatch from her egg. She was a weak baby, struggling with everything they threw at her. But you, a young research assistant who barely had a foot in the door, refused to give up on her.

Big Bertha was a fighter, and you made sure everybody knew it.

She pulled through, eventually becoming strong enough to join the rest of her herd. They didn't have as much of a human connection as she did. Friendly enough, would eat a branch from your hand but that's it.

Bertha, though? She knew you. When you began working closely with Bradley, you introduced the two. He began training her, teaching her tricks that would make veterinary checks easier, all to prove that it could be done.

Now Bertha knew the both of you. She knew the Bronco, approaching it on the rare instances you and Bradley drove into the paddock.

Bradley stopped the Bronco as Bertha approached. Immediately you climbed out, shielding your eyes with your hand as you looked up at her. “Hey, Big girl!” You shouted and she leaned down, as if investigating you for treats.

You were allowed to give her a pet, the reward system you had used when she was still small. Back then you hadn't thought about what the human contact would do to her, that it would turn her into a big dog, but here she was.

Bradley waited for you, unable to hide the grin beneath his moustache. You had a soft spot for everything in the park, he knew. Even Rexy and Taz, the two tyrannosauruses. But Bertha was your baby.

��C'mon,” he called, feeling guilty when you pulled away from your girl. But he had meetings to attend, things he couldn't be late for. Again.

You climbed into the Bronco and Bradley began driving. He drove beneath Bertha and under her tail. You turned around as you drove away from her, watching as she turned to begin to follow you. Her steps were slow and lazy, but she was big enough to keep pace with you.

Bradley drove you around as you gathered all of your cameras. After each one was collected, you kissed his cheek as a reward and he drove on.

For your first year at the park, your studies had focused on the herbivores. You were young and inexperienced and, admittedly, a little scared to attempt to study the carnivores. And then Tom had asked you specifically to study the Tyrannosaurus Rex, to help the team design an appropriate enclosure. Your work with the carnivores started after that, but you still studied one herd of herbivores: your Brontosaurus herd.

All because of Bertha.

“What are we looking for?” Bradley asked, thumb rhythmically tapping against the steering wheel as he headed for the first gate. Bertha stopped behind you, as if she knew she could go no further.

“Any abnormalities,” you said.

“What's abnormal?”

You looked in your notebook, flicked through to your abnormalities page. It wasn't very full, and each behaviour displayed had a date next to it. Few and far between. “You know, fighting, excessive vocalisation, guarding. Stuff the Bronto's don't do.”

Bradley patted your knee. He loved evenings like the one you were about to have, evenings that gave him a glimpse into your brain. Your wonderful, wonderful brain.

“When are we gonna start looking for abnormalities with my girls?”

“When I've studied them enough to know what's abnormal.”

Just outside of the park were two trailers. Two years ago, one had been yours and one had been Bradley's. You were both a little awkward back then, throwing out the occasional ‘good morning!’ and that was it.

But then he started to offer to drive you places. Carpooling meant getting to talk, getting to know each other. The ‘good morning!’s turned into something more.

You both found yourselves lonely, yearning for something unavailable to you on the island. Another person you could share your loneliness with. Someone who could take it away, if only for a few minutes.

The first time you fucked Bradley,the two of your barely knew each other. But that all changed. Late evenings, cuddled up against him with a dinosaur blanket covering the both of you.

It was you and Bradley after that. Rooster and Bones. That was you.

It was easy to fall for each other when each other was all you had.

“What's your meeting with Tom about?” You asked as you flicked through your footage, not actually watching any of the videos. Your entire afternoon was going to be spent watching the footage on double speed, only pausing when your girls did something weird.

Bradley shrugged his shoulders. “I think he just wants an update on The Girls.”

A sigh left his lips. Tom Kazansky was a good man, but his compliance with the military peeved you off. They had been trying to get your research on the Raptors for months now, everything you had on Roosters training with them. But you refused.

There was no way the meeting was just an update about The Girls.

“You gonna start reviewing the footage?” He asked as he changed gear, speeding up towards your trailers.

You nodded. “I think I'm gonna write another email.”

Laughing, Bradley shook his head. “You're cute,” he said, pulling up outside of the trailer. “I'll bring back some food from the canteen,” he said and grabbed your chin, tipping your head towards him.

He kissed you slowly, savouring the feeling of your lips against his before he let you go. With all of your notebooks and cameras, you climbed out of the Bronco and made your way towards the trailer.

Bradley watched as you made your way inside. As soon as the door was shut, he drove off, leaving you there. You didn't mind the solitude, the work you could get done while Bradley was in his meeting.

Music played softly as he drove towards the control room. It was in the centre on the park, the best place to control all of the locks from. It was the main control room, there were several smaller ones that could be controlled by this one dotted on the outskirts. But they were specifically for controlling the enclosures just outside of the park.

It was a slow drive through the park to get to the control room. Tourists with kids that wouldn’t get out of the way when he honked his horn. Even with sunglasses hiding his eyes, he couldn’t help but look grumpy. This was why he didn't go into the main park.

Parking the Bronco, Bradley flashed his badge at the machine. The beep sounded and the elevator doors slid open. He stepped inside and pressed the button for the control room.

It was impressive, the massive screen that displayed the security measures on the whole island. Bradley pulled off his sunglasses as he stepped out of the elevator and strode towards the owner of the park.

Tom Kazansky was a great man with one goal in life; educate the world about dinosaurs. So when Charlotte ‘Charlie’ Blackwood gave him a way to bring dinosaurs to life, he was more than happy to fund it. The park came later, much later.

The park had only been open for a few months, but it was a hit. Every day they were full to capacity, having to turn people away. None of it would have been possible without you and Bradley Bradshaw.

“Rooster!” Tom called as Bradley approached. He shook the older man's hand, let the grumpy expression slip into a grin. “How are my girls?”

Bradley looked around. No unfamiliar faces that could have been military personnel. There was one new guy, but he couldn't have been military. His grin was almost innocent, face somehow boyish, yet he looked as old as you. Mid twenties, at least. You would have liked him, Bradley thought, would find him too cute for your own good.

“They're doing good,” he said. “Rio is the smartest of my girls, for sure. But London, Paris and Florence are getting there.”

“Think you'll be able to do a demonstration for the public.”

Bradley didn't mean to pull a face, but he couldn't help it. He knew where this was leading, to the military using his training, your research to make weapons out of the Raptors. He couldn’t imagine it, Rio being used by the military. He didn’t want to imagine it.

The meeting went on. Bradley told Tom all he could without encouraging the talk of using the Raptors for military purposes. It wasn't what Tom wanted, he knew, but the military had been on his case since Charlie first started creating dinosaurs.

There was a reason she was no longer allowed on the island.

“I need one more thing from you,” Tom said as Bradley placed his sunglasses on his nose. They were pulled down just enough to show his raised eyebrows as he waited for Tom to continue.

He gestured to the young man to his left with the innocent grin and boyish face. “This is my… nephew, Jake Seresin, distant relation. I want you to show him around, introduce him to some of the animals.”

The young man you would find so damn cute. He stepped forward and held his hand out to Bradley. His smile was less innocent, more charming now. You would have been giggling as you took his hand.

And then he opened his mouth.

***

Under your dinosaur blanket, you watched the footage of the Brontosaurus paddock. Scan sampling meant you only had to look up every five minutes and make notes.

Between note taking, you wrote out an email. You had sent so many to them over the two years you had worked at the park. Never before had you received a reply to your emails.

But this was the first time you were debating them.

Their paper on the migration patterns of Hadrosaurs had been so damn interesting, but your research over the last year had proven a couple of their theories to be wrong. You wanted a conversation, to give them a chance to see where your research had come from.

You admired them greatly, had read almost every paper they had put out over the last two years. It had helped develop your own research, helped you with the papers you hadn't published.

‘Dear Professor Floyd and Professor Trace,’

IMPORTANT: My dear friend, @nurse-floyd, made some incredible artwork for this series (which I will be posting chapter by chapter). Recently, she did something incredible in rescuing the sweetest little cat, Lizzie. Lizzie isn't in the best shape, she needs expensive vet care and I want to do everything I can to help my friend.

Nurse-Floyds Ko-Fi

Here is the artwork of my baby Bertha:

tagging people i think would enjoy: @biancathecool

@nurse-floyd

@finnydraws

@sebsxphia

[conkreetmonkey]

Splatoon 3 is wild because imagine if you were living in Japan due to a recent economic and cultural boom, and suddenly a space shuttle with a mutant house-sized T-rex riding it suddenly burst from the center of Mt. Fuji and disappeared into space without explanation, and all you ever find out about what the fuck that was about is that Zuckerburg mysteriously disappeared the same day and was never seen again, but still "officially" ran Meta through an open secret Queen-Elizabeth-being-in-good-health gaslighting campaign, and everybody kind of suspected he may have been connected but never figured out anything conclusive.

Also the T-rex is now orbiting the earth in the fetal position like the guy from Jojo, and there are rumors of a substance that, if touched, turns you into a half-dinosaur monster. Nobody understands any of this but Meta employees just keep going to work and pretending Zuck still exists. The same 12 prerecorded voicelines constantly squak from the PA system.

Oddly, the statue in front of Meta HQ of a T-rex eating a human changes overnight into one of a giant human eating a tiny T-rex. Nobody noticed the switch, despite the statue being in a constantly bustling area. It happened shortly after the shuttle incident.

Jack Black's tiny clone, Lil' Jack, now wears a headset at all times and has been acting really shady since the incident. Also they're both hyperintelligent, immortal velociraptors found in an ancient cryogenic chamber who spend their days judging college football and eating the legally harvested flesh of hillbillies. Lil' Jack is probably plotting to kill Big Jack, but Big Jack doesn't seem to care, growing fat and lazy, sleeping on public benches in a bed of throw pillows. Also, he's very open about the fact that, as a velociraptor, humans look delicious, but he hasn't actually eaten anybody aside from the aforementioned hillbillies because he's civil.

Everyone is just expected to move on with their lives after this. This is normal to you.

The local art school was recently attacked by giant sea serpents, which were actually hideously bioengineered hillbillies, fulfilling a biblical doomsday prophecy, and they were driven back by Meta's army of minimum wage, part time child soldiers armed with warcrimey jury-rigged weaponry. The sea serpents had giant frying pans grafted into their mouths, which launched primitive tactical nukes made by filling garbage bags with their explosive blood. They still exist, and occasionally defend their comrades, but spend most of their time in the deep sea.

The local homeless emo twink everyone's attracted to is a closet millionaire who sells bootleg clothing in exchange for live rats, which he messily devours behind closed doors. He's also 8 feet tall and British and only has one eye.

North Korean refugees now flood the western world, after a greasy 14 year old hipster, under the guidance of Ariana Grande and Taylor Swift, beat Kim Jong Un in a mech battle, and the EDM remix of the Japanese national anthem they performed caused like half the soldiers to immediately realize North Korea sucks ass and defect. One of these individuals, 7 foot tall hypergenius, becomes a newscaster alongside a nepo baby rapper with dwarfism who likes to eat entire jars of mayo, and also they're a popular band. Also also, they may or may not be gay. Almost the entire population is gay, so this isn't a huge deal.

The new local newscasters are a famous Japanese lion tamer, an Indian girl with a bloodline trait allowing her to control snakes, and a Brazillian man the size of a smart car who exclusively communicates via grunts.

Gods, souls and zombies are objectively real, and you're effectively immortal because real-life respawning was invented a while ago. It works like a Keurig, but with mucus instead of coffee. Submersion in water kills you.

A good deal of the population is a hivemind. They pretend to be individuals for no reason.

Almost all men are now femboys.

Despite all this, you still have to go to work at 9 tomorrow.

[shepgarrus]

@otemporanerys @misseffect New human!garrus dropped!

everyones favorite sharpshooter

[knifedog-machina]

Being Human: A Species Identity Compare and Contrast

Written by Gavin on June 27, 2024.

Hey, I'm Gavin, and despite hanging out in various alterhuman spaces, I'm 100% a human person. I live in a system with two headmates who are also human, but identify as other species as well - Max as a velociraptor therian, Jude as a dog archetrope and an android. In contrast, I specifically, completely identify as human.

What's so special about that, being human? Statistically, it's nothing remarkable - most people on Earth identify as human after all. I think what's really interesting is that, over the past year, I've been connected to communities that all contain people (or non-people, as the case may be) who partially or fully identify as nonhuman - otherkin, therians, a solid number of fictionfolk and some alterhumans. Therefore, I feel like I can compare and contrast my species identity to the experiences of others, in a way that most people who philosophize on what humanity is don't get the chance to.

We tend to think of humanity as The Default, a non-identity, since the majority of self-identified nonhumans were raised as human, and we all live in human societies. Most people don't bother clarifying that they are human unless they're dehumanized, because it seems obvious that being born human means you're human. Given humanity's position as a default state, a lot of nonhumans see it as an opposing and fundamentally different experience from nonhumanity.

In this way, species identity is similar to gender identity - cisgender people, who identify with the genders they were assigned at birth, are often assumed by transgender people to have a fundamentally different understanding of gender. I feel like both of these assumptions are oversimplifications, ones that miss out on a lot of nuance, and throughout this essay I will be comparing gender and species, as a trans man whose species is as important to him as his gender.

There are some common threads I've noticed when it comes to having a sense of identity. I wouldn't call them universal experiences, I can't read minds, but they're frequent enough to be significant. They may be more obvious when it's an identity at odds with your body (e.g. being transgender or nonhuman) - but I'd go so far as to say that plenty of cisgender (and human!) people also experience these feelings, and simply don't have the words or desire to describe their feelings with these terms.

First off, identity euphoria - the internal sense of alignment, joy, and contentedness one gets from presenting and being perceived as their identity. A trans man might experience gender euphoria from presenting and being treated as a man, and so do many cis men. Think about how thrilled many guys are when their beards fill out; that's facial hair as a presentation of masculinity, and gaining it is a gender euphoric experience. In a very similar way, a nonhuman experiences species euphoria from being perceived as their species - and so do I, as a human being.

I’m trans, so I know how gender euphoria feels for me. I find that the more I'm just treated as a man, the more that the bright elation of being correctly gendered turns into a sense of quiet satisfaction - this is what I am, and everyone knows it, and all is right with the world. There's no reason to think too much about it unless something calls attention to it, and then I feel confident and comfortable enough in myself that other people's judgements are more annoying than hurtful. I exist peacefully in my body, happy with the way people see me in it, and sometimes I'll do something that feels extra masculine and grin about it for five minutes.

My species euphoria falls into the same sort of category - I feel content with my body, the way it matches how I feel internally, and the way other people treat me because of it. I feel fundamentally comfortable with my human body map and movements, having a flat face and hands and nails, walking upright on the soles of my feet. I feel comfortable when I'm acknowledged as a human and a person, when I do something that’s known to be human - when I wear different clothes to express myself and keep out the cold, when I cook a meal to eat with people, when I sing for the fun of it, when I write and draw to share something creative, when I interact with human technology and invention and creation. Humans have been making clothes and foods and songs and adding marks to the world for about as long as they've existed, and we're still doing it, and if I think about it too long I get emotional. I’m human and I feel deeply connected to humanity, and most of the time I don't think about it because I'm treated as one, but sometimes I’ll notice that I'm doing something that just feels fundamentally human, and it's really nice - sometimes species affirmation can be in the little things, like wearing a beat-up jacket or writing a personal essay.

On the flip side, there's identity dysphoria, the distress experienced when one's identity doesn't align with the way they present or find themselves perceived as. A trans woman might feel gender dysphoria because of her body hair; many cis women also feel less feminine if they don't shave. Species dysphoria is a well-known experience in the nonhuman community, the distress of being seen as human or having a human body when you don't identify as one. Given what I said earlier, hopefully it doesn't come as a shock that people can have the opposite experience - feeling distressed about being seen as nonhuman. I get this kind of species dysphoria.

It feels odd to talk about species dysphoria when I’m not nonhuman, but I still feel it. Mostly it comes up in the context of being in alterhuman spaces, being accidentally mislabeled as nonhuman through proximity to those who are, and I've also felt it in the context of playing around with visualizing myself as nonhuman in art. My body map doesn't have nonhuman features, parts like wings or tails or claws or pointy ears. Picturing myself like that feels wrong, it feels like sandpaper, like there’s this foreign thing attached to my body and I need to cut it off so I can stop this crawling sense of my body not being my own. I used to have an awful amount of gender dysphoria, and I feel like the two are very comparable experiences - the distress of feeling like your body doesn't match your mind. I got top surgery, so the gender dysphoria is gone, and thankfully my body is actually human, because I would be just as distressed about being seen as nonhuman as I was about being seen as a girl.

It’s kind of fascinating that I feel this way, that I can’t picture myself as nonhuman without feeling incredibly uncomfortable. On the other end of the spectrum, there's the entire furry fandom, a subculture of people - most of whom definitely identify as human beings - who regularly depict themselves as nonhuman animals for fun and self-expression. We’re all human, what gives? Do they have a more malleable sense of species identity than I do?

Maybe, maybe not. I don't have a straightforward answer to that - like I said, I can't read minds, and I'm just one person. But I do have a couple thoughts on the way humans interface with nonhumanity, on the topic of enjoying it.

See, I get dysphoric about being considered nonhuman, but I've found some loopholes in there. I’m completely fine with my fictional counterpart - the character getting tossed into different AUs for our personal enrichment - being turned into a vampire, a werewolf, a selkie, an android, a person with wings. How's that any different from other expressions of nonhumanity? Well, for me, those stories don't induce dysphoria because they're about humanity, at the end of the day - how people cope with being seen as or turned into monsters, the way they treat one another and the way they treat supposed outsiders, the ways society might change if humans were slightly different animals but still called themselves human. If I were a werewolf, I'd still be human, just one living with the consequences of also being a wolf. If I had wings in a world where all humans have wings, I'm still human in the context of that world. That baseline sense of humanity is what’s important to me.

In a similar vein, I can't stand seriously being seen as nonhuman - but pretending to be nonhuman? Roleplaying? Dressing up in a costume? I can do that. I feel like there’s something very human about being fascinated by the abilities and strengths of every animal that's not your own kind, and wanting them for yourself - the human desire to fly like a bird, swim like a fish, hunt like a wolf, run like a deer.

I think a lot of what people like about fursonas is this sort of wish fulfillment, of having the cool traits of all these fascinating animals, and having that animal self-portrait still being anthro - human - enough to relate to. It's animality through an anthropomorphic lens, through how fun it can be to play pretend and express yourself as a cool deer-wolf-lion hybrid. And usually, those animal choices are symbolic, and the fursona reflects the personality of the person who made it - more often than not, it reflects the cultural stereotypes of what that animal is, instead of being true to what the animal is like as a living organism. It's about the way humans see themselves in animals, not necessarily the way we are animals. So, ironically, being a furry tends to parse as a very human thing to me.

So far, most of this essay has been a comparison, since I see a lot of similarities between identifying as human and identifying as nonhuman. Putting my species into my list of self-identifiers, like how I'd list my name and pronouns, has cemented it as a crucial part of how I view myself and want to be seen. That's the same way a lot of nonhumans think about their species. I have a strong sense of species identity, it just so happens to align with being human. Contrasting the categories seems harder to me.

I could list a bunch of different nonhuman traits that I lack, but it would be on the same level as saying one kintype is different from another. I don't care about walking on all fours, and neither does Max as a raptor. I don't instinctively try to bite a threat, I’d rather kick it, and I know a horse would agree with me. I don't long for the sky and neither does Jude, they're a dog. I don't have a prey drive and neither does a hamster. I don't feel like a nonsapient animal, and neither does an elf.

When it comes down to just being a certain species, there’s not that much of a difference between identifying as a human and identifying as a dragon. There's a bunch of traits that feel correct, and a million others that don't feel right at all.

I could say that I don't understand feeling like I don't fit in my own body, but I do - I had gender dysphoria. I have species dysphoria. If one of my partners is having a phantom shift while co-fronting with me, I invariably end up either leaving front or nullifying their shifts, because I just don't feel comfortable if our combined body map is nonhuman. I don't have memories of being a different species than I am, having abilities that I don't have in my body now, but those aren’t necessary to be nonhuman in the first place.

Do I need to find a contrast that makes sense? Does there need to be some fundamental difference between human and nonhuman identity?

I don't think so. It's all identity, at the end of the day.

[marlynnofmany]

Rainy Day Eggs

The last delivery our ship made was to a dry planet with too much wind. I’d say it was nice to be somewhere with moisture in the air again, but this was a lot of rain. And while I can appreciate the scent of petrichor and the sound of raindrops on the roof as much as the next Earthling, our current setup was a smidge inconvenient.

Paint asked, “Are you sure we don’t want to use the cargo bay instead?” She peeked past my elbow through the personnel door. “I feel like a wet floor there is less of a slipping hazard.”

“Maybe, but the awning doesn’t fit,” I told her, pointing up at the portable thing that came with this spaceport’s landing pad. It was made for single-person entrances, a hovering pink rectangle tethered to the ground with some kind of localized tractor beam. It stuck to the ship nicely, and hadn’t let so much as a drop sneak past to drip down my shirt, but it wouldn’t have fit over the cargo bay entrance.

“I thought we were going to use one of the bigger landing pads,” Paint said, surprise on her lizardy face as she looked out at the spaceport. “I know our ship is on the small side, but this spot looks tiny!”

“It is,” I said. “That douchnozzle over there sniped our spot.” I pointed at the sporty red single-person cruiser that was currently hogging a courier space. I’d heard Wio swear from the cockpit when she had to adjust our approach because the jerk zipped in front of us. I’d seen the nice big awning crumple down to fit his jerkmobile. After we’d landed in a spot almost too small for us, I’d seen him stroll away with fancy clothes and a force field umbrella, and he hadn’t come back yet.

He was a human, too. Not that I was bitter about any of that.

Paint huffed. “How rude! Well at least we have the comfort of knowing that the kind of person to do that is likely to make their own life harder every day.”

“You’re right on that count,” I agreed. “I can just imagine how much his food gets spit in when he eats at restaurants.”

This concept was a new one as far as Paint was concerned, and we spent the next few minutes before our client arrived talking about unsanitary food sabotage. (She wasn’t a fan. Can’t say I blame her.)

The birdlike cargo of the day was making quiet cooing noises from its cage as the client approached: a slender Frillian who’d come prepared with a bubble-shielded hover cart. I greeted him and handled the electronic payment while Paint gave the cargo one last look over. The coos turned to anxious warbles.

I wanted to call them chickens, and I’m still not convinced that I’m far off, but while their speckled feathers reminded me of the Aracaunas I’d had as a kid, these guys had scaly jaws instead of beaks. Feathery little velociraptors, all puffed up into anxious feather-orbs and looking ready to bite.

I was grateful for both the cage and the awning.

“Here you go,” I said, passing over the cage with extreme care. It barely fit through the door. Luckily the dino-chickens were light, even when they flapped and hissed. The client got them onto the cart with practiced ease. I tried not to show how relieved I was. That cage going sideways to smash open on the rainy ground would have been disastrous.

“Oh wait!” Paint said from behind me. “What about the eggs?”

“Right, I forgot about those,” I said, turning to grab the bowl she held out, which I’d set in the hallway next to the cage. Three speckled eggs rolled merrily as I held it out to the client. “Do you want these? They laid them on the way here, though they don’t seem interested in caring for them.”

He was busy strapping the cage down. “No thanks! They’re not fertilized. Just toss ‘em in your bio-recycler or whatever. Have a great day!” A fresh wave of rain pounded down between us.

“All right, thank you!” I waved goodbye and stepped back inside the ship, closing the hatch. With the rain shut out, the silence felt loud.

“I’ll mop up the water,” Paint volunteered. She pointed at where a spray of raindrops had managed to blow in on the wind. “Watch your step.”

“Thanks.” I held the bowl of rolling eggs in one hand, and the payment tablet in the other. I stepped carefully.

“And make sure you sanitize that bowl!”

“Oh, I will,” I said. “But before I just throw these away, I think it’s time for a rousing game of ‘who thinks these are food?’”

Paint regarded me with a mix of skepticism and disgust. “Really?”

I grinned at her. “Don’t worry, I’ll have Eggskin scan them first.”

“You do that!”

Still grinning, I put away the tablet and did that. Eggskin was in the medical bay, which was next to the kitchen, which was convenient, because Eggskin was in charge of both. They were the most knowledgeable cook/medic I’d ever met.

They didn’t make any fun expressions when I handed over the bowl, not so much as lifting a scaly browridge. They just set to scanning and analyzing like the professional lizardy alien they were.

(I still haven’t told them that the color of their scales reminds me of boogers, and I don’t ever plan to.)

The machine dinged. Eggskin tapped a few buttons, cross-referencing something on the intelligent species database.

“You can’t eat these,” they declared.

“What? Why not?” I was honestly shocked. Humanity’s omnivorous nature had made me used to being the one who could eat everybody’s food.

“There is a significant level of a toxin that would cause vomiting and worse,” Eggskin informed me. “Looks like your people call it tremetol.”

That made a memory ding. “Wait, like the kind from white snakeroot? The kind cows eat, and gives people milk sickness?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Eggskin said drily. “In my personal opinion, all milk is likely to cause sickness, but you’re welcome to your mammal tendencies. Just don’t eat these.”

“Aw, man,” I said. “Is it poisonous to everybody?”

“Let me check.” Eggskin brought up another species. “Looks like Mesmers aren’t affected.”

A voice from the doorway asked, “By what?” and I realized the quiet clicking noises had been Zhee’s feet. His big bug eyes peered in with some very nosy curiosity for someone without a nose.

I said, “By a toxin in the eggs that our animal cargo laid.”

Zhee tilted his head. “Good to know that something I don’t plan to touch will not harm me.”

Eggskin said, “The conversation was about eating them.”

“Ew.” He tilted his head at a more extreme angle and raised his pincher arms as if in defense. “Why?”

I sighed. “Apparently they’re poisonous to some of us.”

“Oh no,” Zhee deadpanned. “What a loss.”

Eggskin asked, “Want me to dispose of them?”

“I guess so,” I said. “Looks like all they’re good for is egging houses. Or spaceships.” I paused to think. “I wonder if they’d do the same kind of damage to the exterior that they do to car paint. It’d get washed away by the rain today anyway.”

“Spaceships like a certain red piece of excrement?” Zhee angled his long body sideways to let someone pass. “The captain would likely deem that unwise.”

I opened my mouth to answer, but Captain Sunlight beat me to it.

“Unwise is one word for it,” she said as she stepped into view and paused instead of passing. Her scaly yellow face wore a scowl. “But that’s the same egghole who nearly sideswiped Kamm’s ship last week; I just checked. Now, we’re about to take off, but if the door happens to open and close before we do, I will be conveniently looking the other way.” She made eye contact, then strolled off toward the cockpit.

Zhee and Eggskin looked at me. I looked at them. Then I grabbed the bowl of eggs and legged it toward the hatch.

As the crewmember with the best throwing arm, and the same species as the egghole in question, it was only fitting that I deliver the karma.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[kedreeva]

Hi! I just saw your video of polaris and i don't know how i never realized just how LONG their tails can get. Is there any significant difference in being (or owning) a peacock because of the tail size? Do they need more space or different roosting setups? Obvs they're big birds anyway but damn that tail is like 2x the length of his body.

Polaris is actually just a 3yo, so his train (which isn't actually his tail! He has a real tail under the train) isn't as long as it will get by the time he's 6 (fully mature).

A fully mature peacock needs a flight pen which has no side shorter than 12 feet, because his train display is around 10 feet wide. They also need it to be 8 feet tall, as the train will stand roughly 5 feet tall while they display, and they need at least 1 perch that's 5-6 feet off the ground in order to preen it, which means 2-3 feet clearance above that to get up and down. Their roost should also be 5+ feet off the ground. Because of their weight, they also need 3-5 feet of horizontal space per vertical foot of space, to get down without slipping a tendon (a death sentence) or jamming their feet (leading to bumblefoot). This is why you'll often see long, thin enclosures at breeding farms (12x50' is a nice size, I've seen 15x50 as well). Inside a coop, if you cannot give them that much space to get down, they will gladly use a ramp to walk down from the roost (and often walk up it to roost too, they're quite lazy birds).

Their MINIMUM flight pen space (not including coop space) is 500 square feet. Their maximum housing density is 1 bird per 150 square feet, which raises the minimum total space needed if there are more than 3 birds. It's usually advised that if you CAN give them more space than that, you SHOULD, because they will use every inch of it and it will be a more enjoyable experience for you and for them. While they need space for their trains, they also get stressed if you force interaction or if they feel they cannot get far enough away from you. However, if you give them the space to get away from you, they will be up your butt any time you're doing something in their space, including sitting minding your own business. They're very curious.

They are definitely a bird that prospective owners should plan for well in advance. On top of their considerably larger housing needs they have a lot of other needs that differ greatly from chickens, largely in dietary needs but also in social and behavioral needs. One of the biggest misunderstandings that lands both humans and peacocks in hot water is that people think the males will be like chickens or ducks or even turkeys, where hand raising and cuddling a male will make them friendly. It is the extreme opposite. Coddling a male peachick will result in 15-20 years of constantly being hunted by a flying velociraptor with knives attached to his ankles. In the peafowl community it is known as berserker male syndrome and it's a constant uphill battle to educate new owners to cut that shit out.

So yeah. Fantastic birds, love them with my whole heart. Do not impulse buy them.

[loli-momo1908]

"NH: Crotalus reference sheet"

 a reference sheet of 2 of 3 Predatron Generals from my first anime concept I'm planning to make a tv series out of one day: Nature Healers.

Name: Crotalus Age: 37 Species: Blue Speckled Rattlesnake hybrid Personality: Sadistic, cold-hearted, self-centered, arrogant, aggressive, conniving, simply evil Likes: Seeing humans suffer, fighting, desert lands, insulting the Nature Healers by pointing out their flaws, winning, live mice to eat, terrorizing the citizens for fun and chaos Dislikes: Gyps's tomfoolery, anyone who gets into his space or step into his part of his territory, losing to the Nature Healers, being called a failure, getting his aggressive anger flaws pointed out Theme color: Blue, slate blue, white, black, and dark gray as sub colors Weapons: Sabaku monsters Bio: Crotulas is one of the 3 Generals of the Predatrons who stands by Ustura's side with Gyps to serve their dark master is to exact his vengeance against Mother Nature for banishing them by taking over Earth as their global territory. When Crotalus first appeared after the time Ricky became the second Nature Healer member to join along with Reina (let's say in episode 3), he started terrorizing the kids' hometown with his Sabaku monster he had summoned while hunting for Tilii to prevent her from finding anymore chosen ones to become Nature Healers, Reina and Ricky transformed to stop him, However, due to Crotalus's slippery speed of a snake, he manages to gave the kids the upper hand until Rumaldo stepped in to save Reina and Ricky after he unintentionally witnessed their transformation into magical warriors. Thanks to Ramuldo's fiery courage and willpower to fight alongside his friends and save the town, a third Rainbow Gaia Quartz awakened and allowed him to transform into Healer Red Hawk, the third Nature Healer chosen one. After his Sabaku being defeated by Ramuldo, this angers Crotalus with his tail rattled before vowing that he'll one day get those chosen warriors before retreating to report to his two comrades.

Fun Fact: Everytime Crotalus gets angry, his tail rattles like how aggressive rattlesnakes would do. And for him to slither fast, Crotalus has the ability to change his legs into a lower body/tail of a snake as he can use such speed to avoid incoming attacks and coil around his enemies in his constrictive grasp. And with his two legs, he can run as fast as a velociraptor. 

Nature Healers, Crotalus (c) me

*DO NOT STEAL MY ARTWORK OR MY CHARACTER*

[void-botanist]

Sharran AU: The Gods Part 1

In this AU (which I will probably come up with a better name for later, but I'm really excited to share it) I'm reconstructing the gods and the storyline of Baldur's Gate 3. I think the gods of the Sword Coast should be weirder, and the storyline should really make use of that. This first post is for the most important gods in this AU, which also happen to be the most important ones in BG3, for the most part.

This post contains vague spoilers for Baldur's Gate 3 below the cut.

Shar: the goddess of shadow, loss, darkness, night (and sleep), forgetting, shades, and opportunity. (Why opportunity? When one potential path is lost, another opens. To gain, you must sometimes lose. Without that loss, how can you find your way?) Unlike her twin sister Selûne, she is frequently seen in human form, which is why her temples are full of statues of her. She is often considered a petulant, petty goddess, which is true. But she is not particularly cruel or evil, no more than her sister. Despite her misgivings at the beginning of the world, she's come around to the idea of having living beings about, and isn't interested in getting rid of them anymore. Instead, she provides them aid that Selûne could never give them, such as taking away their painful memories of loss, which she then integrates into herself. People often turn to Shar when Selûne's so-called "healing" fails to address their emotional and spiritual ills. All Sharrans have had some memory removed—they get to choose which ones. They also all have scar-like markings on their bodies that represent their commitment to forgetting, and what kind of thing they forgot.

Selûne: the goddess of the moon, the sun, the stars (and navigation), heat, light, lycanthropes, and commitment. (Why commitment? In the real D&D lore, one of her past domains was marriage. But drawing from this classic post about the moon and Earth, I think it makes more sense to have her be the goddess of steadfast commitments of all kinds. The only exception is commitments to other gods, because she will not interfere with those processes.) Though she is sometimes represented in human form in art, her natural forms are strange to most mortals, and she has found that they'd rather not see her real human form. Eyes alone are enough, hence the way she is represented on her crest. Many consider her a peaceful, stable goddess, and her personality trends that way, but her power can equally be used for harm: heat and light can be extremely dangerous, the sun can damage mortals irreparably, and there are many bad commitments to be made in life. Selûnite clergy and Selûne's favored have golden cracks on their bodies, but all of her faithful develop cracks here and there.

Ievaal: known as Bhaal in D&D lore, Ievaal is the god/dess of murder, the hunt, and ritual killing. She has three forms: the Slayer, a humanlike form that wears the raw flesh of its enemies as clothing; the Hunter, a velociraptor-like form that always catches its prey; and the Priest, a gnarled form that vaguely resembles a human but is unknowable under its cloak. His believers, who double as clergy when needed, typically follow one of his three forms, and he has two Chosen: one to bring together the clergy, and one that is best at killing and his favorite. Ievaal considers their gender to be shapeshifter, which is to say all genders, and none of them. It is most often called a deity, but god/dess is also acceptable. Those who follow her are granted the ability to shapeshift, though many can only master one or two forms.

Myrkul: the deity of souls, bones, and the liminal space between life and death. They are not the deity of death as a concept—that's Kelemvor's domain—but of death as a process, of something that happens to most beings eventually and requires the collection of their souls. Their most common form is a lavishly decorated assortment of bones of all kinds formed into a loose humanlike shape. Most claim that the bones change every time they take this form, and they neither confirm nor deny it. They are more withdrawn from the affairs of mortals than Bane and Ievaal, but counts them among their staunchest allies. They are not worshipped so much as remembered.

Bane: the god of power and tyranny. He generally appears as a figure of shadow with two ruby and black crystal gauntlets. Because of this, much to Shar's chagrin, he is sometimes called the Lord of Darkness. He has no fully corporeal form and is known to possess mortals to do his bidding, granting them magical armor crafted of his own shadowy essence. His primary goal in life is to cause trouble and sow discord to put himself at the top, something his right hand Ievaal is only too pleased to assist with. His rigidly structured clergy can be recognized by the red teardrop shapes on the backs of their hands.

Mystra: the goddess of magic. She acts as a conduit between the Weave, the substance of magic that permeates the universe, and spellcasters, partly to prevent them from casting magic that is too dangerous and partly to prevent them from being overwhelmed by the Weave. Her normal form looks like a human-size doll, held together at the joints with shifting threads of magic that weave together—the Weave itself. She boasts a wide variety of clergy and adherents, who are gifted slightly increased access to the Weave that tends to make their eyelashes or fingernails turn Weave-like.

Riodda: known as Oghma in D&D lore, Riodda is the deity of learning, ideas, knowledge, and bees. Her main form blurs the line between human and insect—she has the fluffy clawed arms of a bumblebee, but ten of them, as well as a set of compound eyes set next to her human ones and two long antennae. Bees of all kinds, but especially bumblebees, are considered her messengers that report new information back to her in her study. She, too, is always busy learning something new or playing music. Her faithful typically have six dots on one or both ears, representing both the six feet of a bee and the necessity of listening.

Lathander: the god of the dawn and beginnings. He typically appears as a human, though the details of that human have changed through the ages. The one thing they all have in common is that they are very tall and have a laugh that can be heard for miles. He frequently does not bother to mark his faithful because they do that themselves, adorning themselves with gold jewelry and tattoos in his image.

Jergal: the god of fate and the end of everything. He has always looked impossibly old and lich-like. For the most part, he has no adherents, and is not even considered to be a god by most, not since the ascension of the Dead Three, Ievaal, Bane, and Myrkul. He's still kicking, though, and those he resurrects slowly acquire a set of tally marks along an arm. Enough deaths and resurrections would lead to a full body's worth of tallies.

Aylin: a goddess in her own right, but she focuses on being Selûne's Chosen rather than ruling over a domain and believers. She is the daughter of Selûne and Shar, though she rarely acknowledges Shar's parenthood. She was created in the midst of one of Shar and Selûne's early fights when Selûne used a bit of her own essence to knock out a bit of Shar's essence, and that combined essence formed into Aylin. Aylin chose her first mother as her true mother and deity, though she can't deny she has aspects of Shar as well.

bg3 taglist: @multi-lefaiye @theskeletonprior @kk7-rbs

[thedurvin]

Insomnia the other night left me brainstorming an underdeveloped OC, a Predator-knockoff alien hunter whose failure to kill Arnold Schwarzenegger is punished by her civilization by forcing her into human form to rack up some cool kills by hunting various movie monsters. I specifically want to avoid or subvert “badass alien that hates Earth” tropes:

She loves human food, although since her race is strictly carnivorous she’s having a hard time adapting to eating plants and carbs and drinking water; low-quality processed meats with lots of organs and bone meal are her favorite. She especially loves condiments and will drink them directly from the bottle

She absolutely loves dancing, which she considers a way to show off your grace and agility, important aspects of a warrior/hunter culture, and she is actually a better dancer than hunter. The only problem is her culture’s music also displays similar traits and most closely resembles avant-garde jazz while the dance moves combine the elegance of a tango with the violence of moshing, sort of like a fighting game rhythm game where you have to hit on the beat. She was an aspiring musician at one time and her newfound independence on Earth allows her to practice, but the closest she’s been able to find to her preferred instrument is one of those power drills where the speed (and thus the pitch) goes up the harder you squeeze the trigger, with rhythmic accompaniment from bone claves in the other hand

She has no problem with how humans smell. She can identify and locate people by smell. Her hygiene is fine because she understands the urge to mask one’s scent from predators and enemies, although while on a hunt she does compulsively roll in things to help her blend in.

She is still getting the hang of the human form and tends to use her lips in the same way that Predators use their mandibles, writhing them constantly when she’s agitated. She is frustrated by the fact that she has long hair but it’s limp and can’t be used to grab things. Her race’s natural form is something like a velociraptor (or rather a mimic octopus impersonating one), and when she gets angry or excited she goes into those postures.

She is absolutely terrible at explaining xenobiology and space travel and has no idea what her human sidekicks are talking about when they ask her how it works, and while she does have some cool alien weapons she bought most of it from a catalog and periodically needs to check manuals and Space Reddit to figure out how to use them.

[starlightandetherealshadows]

Fun fact anon here:

Did you know that light, relative to the sheer scale of space, moves pretty slow? The closest solar system to us, good ol Alpha Centauri, is about 4 light years away? So anything that looks on the visible light spectrum like us, looking from there, would be watching us from 2019. Most of the galaxy is even farther away.

Of course, this makes me want to ask. How would the aliens react if they were more a couple hundred light years away, taking a peek at the state of humanity at the time, only to come on over and see the huge amount of progress made?

(My favorite example of this is that we went from first getting a plane in the air to the moon in 66 years.)

Hi sunshine!!!

So so happy to see your message in my inbox! Seriously, your fun facts make my day.

That is..so fckin cool???? I can't fathom how vast the universe is. And then to think about other universes? My head spins. Yet, there's people that think we are the only planet with life? Tuh!

Whew, the aliens would be flabbergasted (and try not to show it).

They would be, you know, aware that time moves differently and they'll be seeing the earth many years in the future. However, knowing and seeing it with your own eyes are two different experiences. I think their first time on Earth is a learning curve. They expect one thing from humans and get another.

When the aliens think they're boutta see a velociraptor and they get tiktokers instead:

I love hearing from you, my friend! I hope you're having a great week!♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

All my love,

Cheye

[cozza-frenzy]

Meet The Alters of the Magical Mystery Box!

Chaos D. Stortion Pronouns: It/Its, Twist/Twists Age: Adult Species: Living Cartoon (Avatar Of The Spiral) Orientation: Panromantic Pansexual, Polyamorous Source: Roleplay Character (Original) Role In System: Gatekeeper (Access To Headspace Areas), Trauma Holder Likes: Anything strawberry-flavored, memes, making people laugh, DJing and performing Dislikes: Hurting people, people getting hurt, silence, being alone Notable Relationships: Nebula (romantic partner, other system), Len (romantic partner, other system), Terry (queerplatonic, in-system), Holiday (queerplatonic, in-system), Velocity (adopted child, in-system), Roses (co-fronter for performances)

Personal Reblog Tag: #Spiral Posting Taffy Brewer Pronouns: He/Him, They/Them, Star/Stars Age: Adult Species: Hybrid Monster (Object Head (Teacup) / Ghost) Orientation: Demiromantic Gay Source: Roleplay Character (Outertale AU) Role In System: Caretaker (Exercise, Cleaning), possible Trauma Holder Likes: Space-themed aesthetic, plants, outdoor exercise, fruits and vegetables,cold weather, Hyi (parallel play/introvert friend), "Roses" (cooking and grocery shopping buddy) Dislikes: Eating meat, people raising their voices, crowds Notable Relationships: Roses (best friend, frequent fronting partner), Hyi (likes to hang out)

Personal Reblog Tag: #Cosmic Latte "Roses Gardens" Pronouns: Any/All Age: Adult Species: (Chooses not to disclose) Orientation: Demiromantic Gay Source: (Chooses not to disclose) Role In System: Caretaker (Medical, Cooking), In-System Medical Care

Likes: Singing, doing announcements for our live listens, comfort food, flowers, cooking, cute dresses Dislikes: Feeling tired, being talked over, talking about their source in great detail Notable Relationships: Taffy (best friend, frequent fronting partner), Rakugaki (pressure therapy), Chaos (co-fronter for performances), Roy (in-system medical team)

Personal Reblog Tag: #Restless Nights Hyi Pronouns: None (or It/Its when more convenient) Age: Adult Species: Extraterrestrial Data-Based Lifeform Orientation: Aromantic Asexual Source: Music production alias from Halley Labs Role In System: Gatekeeper (Access To Front), Knowledge Keeper, In-System Communication Likes: Documentaries, museums, lost media preservation, electronic music, feeling useful, pretty much everyone in-sys, communicating to folks outside the system by relaying messages Dislikes: Anything that destabilizes our system, anything that distracts Hyi from doing Hyi's job, being in active control of the body Notable Relationships: Ari (helps with maintenance), Taffy (likes to hang out), Chaos (helps with DJing)

Personal Reblog Tag: #Data Acquired

Velocity Raptor Pronouns: She/They Age: Minor (Age Slider - ranges 6-15) Species: Anthro Velociraptor Orientation: Lesbian Source: Mascot of AGDQ/SGDQ Role In System: Trauma Holder

Likes: Speedruns, video games, rock music, head pats, chewy stim toys, animated movies, the adults in-system but especially Chaos (big sibling) and Terry (parent) Dislikes: Sour flavors, unfamiliar food, being ignored or excluded, involuntary regression Notable Relationships: Terry (adopted parent, in-system), Chaos (adopted parent, in-system)

Personal Reblog Tag: #Gotta Blog Fast Rakugaki Riot Pronouns: It/Its, They/Them, Paint/Paints Age: Adult Species: Genius Loci (protective spirit of a place) Orientation: Aromantic Asexual Source: Euphoriaverse (Original Work) Role In System: Protective Guardian, Gatekeeper (Remove From/Add To Front), Peacemaker Likes: Sweet Drinks, music, art of any kind Dislikes: Cops, bigots, messy environments, the front getting crowded, disruptions to the system (fights between alters etc.) Notable Relationships: Roses (helps with pressure therapy), Charlie (helps with painting projects)

Personal Reblog Tag: #Slushie Kid Arachne "Ari" Webb Pronouns: She/Her Age: Adult Species: Splicer (Human with Spider DNA) Orientation: Bisexual Source: Brain-Made (no single source) Role In System: Knowledge Keeper, System Maintenance Likes: Horror movies, gothic fashion, science, spiders Dislikes: Being forced to front (not a frequent fronter) Notable Relationships: Hyi (helps maintain system function and manage communication)

Personal Reblog Tag: #Ari's Webb Holiday Battenburg Pronouns: She/Her, Joy/Joys, Cake/Cakes Age: Adult Species: Party Dragon Orientation: Panromantic Asexual, Polyamorous Source: Brain-Made (no single source) Role In System: Mood Booster, Memory Holder Likes: Baked goods, bright colors, giving gifts, celebrations, vacations Dislikes: Loud buzzing noises, sounds of people in distress Notable Relationships: Terry (queerplatonic, in-system), Chaos (queerplatonic, in-system)

Personal Reblog Tag: #All Too Much Vivien DeMontes Pronouns: They/Them Age: Adult Species: Human-ish (Avatar Of The Dark) Orientation: Panromantic Asexual Source: Roleplay Character (Original) Role In System: Trauma Holder, Symptom Holder (Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Eating Disorder) Likes: Animated movies, art, dancing, singing in a duet Dislikes: Loud noises, cold weather, being out in the rain Notable Relationships: Martin (friend and personal caretaker)

Personal Reblog Tag: #Beyond The Shadows Shigeru "Fox" Renard Pronouns: He/Him, They/Them Age: Adult Species: Kitsune Orientation: Bi-romantic Bisexual Source: Brain-Made (No Single Source) Role In System: (Not sure yet) Likes: Imitating others in the system, flirting, puzzles, sculptures Dislikes: Children Notable Relationships: None so far

Personal Reblog Tag: #Intruder Alert Samuel Vimes Pronouns: He/Him Age: Adult Species: Human Orientation: Demiromantic Heterosexual Source: Discworld Role In System: Guardian, Gatekeeper (Forbidding access to dangerous areas in headspace)

Likes: Distressed pudding, bacon sandwiches, the sound of rain Dislikes: Injustice, inequality, others getting themselves in danger Notable Relationships: None so far

Personal Reblog Tag: #The Guarding Dark If you have any questions about us or about being a system, feel free to ask!

Dr. Roy Boss Pronouns: He/Him Age: Adult Species: Living Cartoon Orientation: Queer (still exploring) Source: Work-In-Progress Webcomic (Original Work) Role In System: Caretaker (Cleaning), Symptom Management (Eating Disorder), In-Sys Medical Care

Likes: Explosions, mad science, stories about villains Dislikes: Mentions of medical malpractice and neglect Notable Relationships: Dagwood (Nemesis, the hero to his villain), Roses (in-system medical team)

Personal Reblog Tag: #Boom Baby Boom