#we are from incompatible species

[gaphic]

strategizing like a 4-star general on how to explain to oleg why adina's sexy dance class makes me uncomfortable without making it seem like i'm weird about sexy dancing

[the-trans-dragon]

I am eagerly waiting for my society to figure out that our sex is more complicated and nuanced than "male and female" and I think a nice baby step would be admitting that our concept of sex is...

...inadequate?

...incompatible with a comprehensive understanding of life?

...silly?

I don't think humans will ever have the perfect terms for perfect comprehension but...it's kinda human nature to try to find the words. Are you telling me that this type of terminology (link to the Wikipedia article) is the best we can do? Even when discussing creatures that clearly are not compatible with a binary view of sex?

Like, if we can't even admit that complex sexes exist somewhere on the planet, how could we fathom that they exist within us?

[prokopetz]

Not posting this as a reblog because I don't want to screw with somebody else's notes, but the whole "theological implications of Tolkien's orcs" business has some interesting history behind it.

In brief, a big part of why the Lord of the Rings Extended Universe™ is so cagey about what orcs are and where they come from is that later in his life, Tolkien came to believe that orcs as he'd depicted them were problematic – albeit not because of, you know, all the grotesque racial caricature.

Rather, he'd come to the conclusion that the idea of an inherently evil sapient species – a species that's incapable of seeking salvation – was incompatible with Christian ethics. Basically, it's one of those "used the wrong formula and got the right answer" situations.

In his notes and letters, Tolkien played around with several potential solutions to this problem. (Though contrary to the assertions of certain self-proclaimed Tolkien scholars, there's no evidence that he ever seriously planned to re-write his previous works to incorporate these ideas.) In one proposal, orcs are incarnated demons, and "killing" them simply returns them to their naturally immaterial state; in another, orcs are a sort of fleshy automaton remotely operated by the will of Sauron, essentially anticipating the idea of drone warfare.

Of course, this is all just historical trivia; any criticism of The Lord of the Rings must be directed at the books that were actually published, not the books we imagine might have been published if Tolkien had spent a few more years thinking through the implications of what he was writing. However, the direction of his thoughts on the matter is striking for two reasons:

Tolkien's orc conundrum is very nearly word for the word the problem that many contemporary fantasy authors are grappling with fifty years later. They want epic battles with morally clean heroes, and they're running up against exactly the same difficulty that Tolkien himself did – i.e., that describing a human-like species who are ontologically okay to kill is an impossible task.

After all the work he put into solving this impossible problem, one of Tolkien's proposals was literally just "what if they're not really killing the orcs, they're just sending them to the Shadow Realm?"

[fozmeadows]

TERFism really is just white beauty politics in a pseudo-feminist hat, because there's simply no escaping the fact that every concern-trolling argument TERFs make against transition, and particularly towards trans men, boils down to the worst thing you can be is an ugly woman, where "ugly" is code for "insufficiently young, white and/or traditionally feminine."

The ridiculing of trans women, for instance, centers disgust at the idea of anyone with traditionally "masculine" features attempting to pass as female, which - as has been well-documented by this point - frequently sees butch women, women of colour, older women, tall women, strong women, and any other woman who doesn't fit this dogwhistle standard of prettiness caught in the crossfire. Masculinity is incompatible with beauty, this logic goes, and all women must be beautiful. Ergo, the more masculine you appear, the less female you are. TERFs, of course, will try to deny their active participation in anything so ragingly unfeminist as policing women's bodies in pursuit of a narrow physical ideal, and yet, as the recent furor over Imane Khalif has roundly shown, this is exactly what they end up doing: an endless reinvention of new and shittier forms of phrenology to explain why this woman or that is not, in fact, really a woman.

Accepting trans women who don't, by conventional standards, pass, means accepting the femininity of women - both cis and trans - who diverge from these beauty standards: who have facial hair or receding hairlines, deep voices or big hands and feet, who are muscular or tall or strong-jawed, who are either incapable or undesirous of pregnancy, or one of a thousand other things we're told (despite the fact that humans are not a strongly dimorphic species) are exclusively masculine traits. But trans women who do pass engender a different terror: the fear that beauty is not an exclusively "feminine" inheritance, such that someone deemed a man might natively posses it and thereby render "real" feminine beauty somehow less special.

And then we have the scaremongering around trans men, which frequently presents as "concern" over, specifically, impressionable girls and young women being tricked into harming their healthy bodies by the nefarious Trans Cabal. That this same concern is never extended to adult women is the giveaway, because adult women are, by this reckoning, inherently less valuable, being neither as pretty nor as fertile as their younger counterparts. It's already too late to prevent their inevitable descent into the ugliness of ageing, and either they're parents already (in which case, their biological purpose has been served, thus rendering their identities past that point moot) or else have been written off as too old for childbearing anyway (which adds to their irrelevance).

Which makes it all the more ironic how many of the stated negatives of transition for trans men dovetails with things the cis female body normally does as it ages and/or postpartum. Long-term binding is decried for the way it causes the breasts to sag or deform and the nipples to enlarge, for instance, when this is exactly what happens as a consequence of pregnancy and breastfeeding. An increase in facial and body hair is common for post-menopausal women, let alone those with PCOS. Plenty of women naturally have deep voices, with many growing raspier regardless with age, while both ageing and childbirth inevitably alter the appearance of genitalia, sometimes radically. Even top surgery, the procedure most maligned as "butchery," has its cis analogues: not only for survivors of breast cancer or those who, due to genetic predisposition towards aggressive forms of it, opt for preventative mastectomies, but those who undergo breast reduction surgery, whether for cosmetic or health reasons - while some women, on yet a third hand, are natively flat-chested.

Taken together, then, what unifies the demonizing fear of trans women and the infantilizing dismissal of trans men by TERFs is an obsession with a specific, youth-and-Eurocentric-based notion of female beauty, where being deemed too masculine in either direction is the disqualifying factor. In TERFlandia, masculinity therefore becomes a synonym for ugliness: trans women can't shed it sufficiently to be counted at any age (unless they pass, which is a prospect too terrifying to countenance), while trans men must be stopped at all costs from embracing it (unless they're already old, in which case they no longer matter). Which is not to say that transphobia more broadly lacks for other avenues of attack; it's just that concern around trans bodies and the necessity of controlling them inevitably circles back to beauty, youth and fertility as the abiding hallmarks of womanhood, and as soon as you point this out, all the other arguments start to unravel.

[deathworlders-of-e24]

Danny, Security Chief

Part 4

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

<Open File>

<{Possible Security Threats}>

• Theta Raider attack; 23% likely

• Grite of the Sed

• Elizabeth Collins^

~Addendum: Liz Collins and 3 possibly hostile infant alien lifeforms she’s keeping as pets~

<{(expand file?)}>

Security Chief Danny Ducane had started keeping a list of possible risks to the Noah after the disastrous mission to MX13, off the main servers of course. He kept it on his private computer in his quarters, away from prying eyes and probes, something like a journal more than an official log.

He clicked the expansion and began to dictate:

“While the Sed man Grite has been relegated to inactive duty aboard the ship, the situation is becoming increasingly complicated. Several times I have seen the other Sed crewmen in compromising places, though it seems inauspicious to the rest of the security team. After I caught Communications Officer Soane observing me leaving the Bridge, I’ve also seen Kor and Taren, both engineers, in odd locations around the ship where there has been no request for repairs or upgrades. I’ve kept my findings to myself out of fear of accused paranoia, and my own self policing. I’m positive they’re watching me. But whether or not they have ulterior motives or are just pissed I fired their buddy, I’m still not sure. Further investigating is required.

On another note, my information request was confirmed by Admiral Townes. Despite the fact that the Noah was human made, with GAIL assistance, and that the experiment was posed by the Quintins in the first place, the Sed representative on the GAIL council apparently made a big stink about the Sed not having any command positions on board. Townes said they wanted the Captain position, Security Chief, and communications lead all filled with their own species, but the requirements weren’t met by anyone they’d selected for the mission. Therefore they just ended up as grunts under these ‘lesser’ species. Sounds like a bunch of political posturing, they got what they got and threw a fit anyway. Townes said they don’t take kindly to orders from races they deem… incompatible. So there’s that too, I guess, bigots in space. I’m just hoping we can hit the halfway mark and get relief personnel before this thing we got brewing goes nuclear. Signing off.”

Danny clicked the computer off and stretched his arms above his head, his back popping twice. Between alien encounters and solar flares, the ship was getting more… noisy. Active. Danny didn’t like it. Boring was best. Boring meant nobody was dying. He’d had had a feeling in the pit of his stomach for the last dozen cycles or so, something was coming.

And it was probably gonna piss him off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny made the bridge at 0900 hours the next morning, slapping his ball cap on his head and a cup of coffee in his hands. He nodded to the bridge crew before turning to the captain, who looked at him with his ant like head cocked to one side.

“Chief Ducane, I believe it’s your day off duty, is it not?”

“It is, yeah, but it’s not like I can leave the ship unattended. Anything could happen,” Danny said, raising his cup to gesture.

“Speaking of, anything new boss?” he asked.

“Actually yes,” Skitch said, his multifaceted eyes catching the light and glowing like an oil slick. “We got an alert about an hour ago, something breached our forward perimeter for a minute before jumping away. We think it was a ship of sorts, but the scanners couldn’t tell anything definitive before it ran away.”

Danny thought for a moment, taking a sip of coffee.

“Could be pirates,” he said finally, “but if it was an hour ago and they haven’t come back, they probably aren’t a sizable force if a ship this small scared them off. Still, I recommend putting everyone on tactical alert for the time being, just to be safe.”

Skitch nodded, antenna bobbing.

“Good idea. Now please, go rest. The medical staff told me you humans have to sleep for at least 10 hours a cycle or you don’t function correctly, and you barely get 6 with the amount of work you do.”

“Don’t worry about me Captain,” Danny said, laughing, “I’m perfectly capable of functioning on just 6 hours, even less with enough coffee.”

“Regardless, this is your assigned rest period. You’re supposed to relax today, so I don’t want to see you until the next cycle,” Skitch ordered. “You’re no good to the ship if-”

One of the consoles started beeping, cutting the Captain off. It was coming from the long range scanners, the communications officer cycling through the information as fast as she could.

“Sir, we’re picking up a distress call from the other side of the system, a merchant vessel is under attack!”

“Who is it?”

“Signal corresponds to a Muruzian ship the GAIL has on file, they’re taking fire.”

“Helmsman, set a course, best possible speed!” Skitch ordered. “Chief Ducane, your off day is canceled.”

“Way ahead of you captain,” Danny said, downing his coffee and turning his cap around. “Let’s go to work.”

Danny turn on his heel and booked off the bridge and back towards the lift. As he moved, he unclipped the comm-link from his hip and made the call:

“Attention Alpha Team, we have a situation. Body armor and weapons, meet in the hangar bay in 5 minutes. Bravo Team are on call for support and possible rescue. We are heading to aid friendlies and fuck up enemies, move your asses.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny hit the hangar bay in 4 minutes flat, even after making a stop at his quarters to grab his personal kit. Homet, Coola, Ritz, and Hayte were all there, strapping on their gear with solemn looks on their faces. Danny knew Homet had seen a firefight before, but the others had only fought in simulated battles. Danny trusted them to do their jobs, but worried what the job would do to them in turn. In any event, he could always step in to cover them.

Get your head on soldier, Danny thought, you lead them into it and out. Burn bridges after you crossed them.

“Ready in 60 seconds people, the bridge said the distress signal cut out so the enemy probably took over the controls. We have friendlies under attack so we’re gonna lend a hand. Now remember, the Muruzians aren’t exactly a sturdy race, and they look avian in nature,” Danny explained, showing an image on his data pad of the species. They looked like bipedal birds, with long legs and necks, plumage around the head and base of their extremities. Short wings extended from their backs, with a span over 3 meters across at their full length.

“These are civilians, not soldiers, so it’s up to us to save them. Readings on the aggressor’s ship indicate it’s probably pirates, so shoot to stun anything that shoots at you first. Seriously. Just stun. We don’t have a full crew manifest for the Muruzian ship so no spray and pray, got it? Don’t want anybody the Muruzians are friends with to get shot just ‘cause they don’t have wings.”

“About half of that didn’t make sense sir, but set everything to stun and let loose right?” Hayte said, smirking.

“Just stun anything that isn’t a tall turkey, got it?” Danny said, stepping into the shuttle. “Fall in, we’re going for a ride!”

The security force piled into the shuttle and the hatch closed behind them, pressurizing the cabin. The pilot got the all clear from hangar control, and the bay doors opened up in front of them. Danny heard Hayte behind him quietly ask Homet what a turkey was, and then they were off, into the void, hurtling towards a firefight.

“Alright guys, here’s the plan,” Danny began, “scans show their shuttle bay is wide open, so we’re going in there and securing a beach head. From there, we sweep floor by floor with scanners looking for life signs while going up to the bridge, taking out any hostiles we find or rescuing any of the Muruzians we encounter. We find anyone, one of us escorts them back to the shuttle bay for safety. Bravo Team is gonna be right behind us for recoveries, so once the friendlies are safe we regroup. Got it?”

“Got it sir,” Coola answered, though there was a slight stutter in her voice. The others didn’t respond, just nodded. Homet cocked his rifle, the weapon whirring as it powered up.

“Good to go, Chief,” he said.

“Okay, let’s do this right people,” Danny said, sending the same orders to Bravo Team through his comm-link. The shuttle was almost to the bay, and Danny could see the Muruzian ship in the distance, blocky and oblong at the same time, almost kind of egg shaped. Its thrusters were dead and dark. Just beside it was another ship, maybe a fourth the size, but clearly built for speed and maneuverability, almost like an arrow head in shape, though still smaller than the Noah.

Their shuttle came to a stop inside the Muruzian ship’s bay, just inside the air field generator. The pilot gave the signal, releasing the hatch. Danny was first out the door, sweeping from side to side with his rifle, head on a swivel. There was already another shuttle in the hangar, arrow shaped like the enemy ship. This was how they got in it seemed. They hadn’t seen any lifeforms on the scans of this area, but you never know what technology could miss. What you didn’t know could so easily kill you. The rest of them poured out of the shuttle and began securing the bay.

“Clear!” Homet called out, followed by the Quintin siblings, then Hayte.

“All clear!” Danny called, clicking on the radio in his ear piece. “Bravo Team, the beach head is secure, make your entry and prepare to receive injured friendlies and restrained enemies. We’re moving out.”

Alpha Team formed up at the exit, Homet on point with Danny right behind him. Hayte was in the rear, calling out possible life signs with the scanner, and the twins on lookout, just like they trained for.

“Got three signals on the next floor chief,” Hayte said as they made their way through the hangar floor. “But I don’t know how we’re going to get there, the ship doesn’t have stairs or any lifts.”

“Yeah, the Muruzians are an avian species,” Homet said, “they just fly and glide between floors.”

“Well they have to have maintenance shafts somewhere,” Danny said. “Somewhere they can stand and move between levels. Broaden the scan parameters, find any space that can fit us that can get to other floors.”

Hayte clicked some buttons and held the scanner up high above his head. Behind them, the Bravo Team shuttle landed in the hangar.

“Got something Chief, 20 meters ahead and to the left, service shaft. Looks like an air duct, but we can even get Homet in there if he crouches.”

“Good. Let’s move people,” Danny ordered. The team booked, staying in formation. They made their way down the hall toward the shaft, then pried open the doors. The duct went upwards at a 45 degree angle. Danny and Homet turned and gave a look to the other three, the lizards and the monkey.

“When we get back to the ship,” Danny began, “we’re gonna have a talk about the abilities of different species, okay?”

Going up was slow going. Danny’s legs were aching before they were halfway up, and Homet’s fur was making friction a problem. The Twins and Hayte had to brace themselves behind him and push while the Doun used the exposed skin on his hands to try and get traction. It took significantly longer than Danny wanted, but they had no choice.

Finally, they made it out the top end, Danny and Homet tumbling out onto the floor.

“Well that sucked,” Danny said, forcefully bending his spine back into shape. The more limber species on the team simply stepped out into the hall, trying to keep from laughing at their two more burly teammates.

“Get back in formation,” Danny ordered. “Bunch of kids, I swear.”

They made their way through the ship, Hayte directing them with the scanner. Finally they came up on a door and the Indoprime stopped them. He pointed to the door and held up 3 fingers on his furred hand.

“One Muruzian bio sign,” he said reading the device. “Two others that read as Tulane.”

“Crap,” Danny said. The Tulane were pretty well known for their techno-dependencies. They augmented themselves with whatever they could salvage from raid runs in other systems, so they didn’t have any real average appearance to attribute their species to anymore. Just lots of metal and weapons wrapped in flesh. A race of cyborgs.

“On three,” Danny said quietly, hand on the door. Homet got into position, the others behind him.

1…

2…

3!

Danny threw open the door and ducked aside as the big burly Doun charged in, his thermal suit making him a tank with tusks. The Tulane didn’t even have a chance to fire, Homet and Danny stunned them the second they were in line of sight. The team poured into the room, clearing corners and spreading out to cover any possible angle of attack.

They the coast was clear. Danny lowered his rifle and walked calmly over to the friendly alien bird. They appeared to be female, with light gray plumage and darker accents. Their beak was shaking, but despite that, Danny realized that if they stood up they’d be as tall as he was.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“SQUAWWK!” Said the Muruzian, and Danny waited a moment for the translator to kick in.

[Who are you? Are you here to help us? Please save us!]

“Don’t worry, we’re GAIL officers from the ship Noah, we’re here to help,” Danny said, trying to calm them down.

“Bawk? Squawk.”

[What? I can’t understand you, they destroyed my translator]

“Shit,” Danny said. “Ritz, give her your translator, Coola can interpret for you.”

The Quintin man gave the alien bird lady his device, then made a hissing sound. The Muruzian synced it to her ear.

“Better?” Danny asked.

“Much,” she said. “My name is Lith, thank you for coming. The Tulane came out of nowhere, we were boarded before we knew what was going on.”

“How’d they get on board?” Homet asked.

“They fired a directed EMP burst, completely fried our ship. We got back-up power going for life support, but that could go out any minute.”

“Okay Lith, we’re gonna get you to safety, but first you gotta tell us how many crew you still have on the ship so we can save them too,” Danny said.

“There’s only 50 of us in the flock, but some of them were in the hangar when they boarded. They… didn’t make it.” Lith gave a very sad sounding chirp. “The others were locked on the cargo decks. The only reason they didn’t get me too was because I was hiding. They left them in cargo and brought a few back up to the bridge.”

“Okay Lith, these two” Danny pointed to the twins, “are gonna get you to the hangar bay where our friends are gonna keep you safe, okay? All you gotta do is take a quick slide down that air duct over there, alright?”

“Thank you, thank you so much,” Lith said, squawking. Danny sent a quick message on the comm-link, ‘one incoming friendly, more in the cargo bay with hostiles, go get them’, and they were off. The twins taking Lith down and Danny, Homet, and Hayte continuing forward, securing the floor.

After a few minutes, Ritz and Coola were back, and the three of them had swept the floor for any surprises. Finding none, they moved on.

Another duct led up to the next floor, and Danny wasn’t having it after that. His legs and back ached, and watching the younger teammates effortlessly climb up was annoying. He was almost thankful when they encountered the band of Tulane pirates. At least it’d be longer now between climbs.

The group they encountered could not be said to all be the same species at first glance. For one, one of them was half the size of the other nine, and had a blaster for a hand. For two, the tallest of the group was see through, as in it looked like his torso had been replaced with bionics without any casing. Danny could see the wiring hanging down where organs should be as well as the wall behind it. Danny could see the thing’s ribs and spine, dripping what looked like motor oil.

Wow, fuck that noise, Danny thought.

“Light ‘em up!” Danny said, taking the opening shot. The first cyborg took the stun directly to the face, dropping like a sack of rocks. Homet took the next two, the energized bolt frying their circuits as they went down. Then it was all out war. Both sides fired wildly, but the Alpha Team had the element of surprise. The whole skirmish lasted less than 30 seconds. The last three took multiple stuns, twitching on the ground. Their cybernetics sparked and whirred, which would have been concerning if they weren’t pirate scumbags.

“Bravo Team, I got a present for you. 9 stunned hostiles, second floor from the hangar. Send medical and mechanical assistance. These guys are gonna stand trial for this, so make sure they don’t die.”

Danny turned back to his team, but something caught his eye.

The Tulane had jump packs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh I’m keeping this!” Homet exclaimed as they made the leap to the next floor, a whopping 20 meters up from the floor they’d left the unconscious pirates. Danny said nothing, but grinned at his friend. This was significantly easier on his back.

Plus it made him feel cool as fuck.

They made it to the next floor in record time, and cleared it just as fast. It seemed the center of the ship was hallow, a long empty shaft spanning the length of the ship, allowing the Muruzians easy access to the whole of the ship by flying or gliding to any floor they chose. Alpha Team was making use of it as well now, the jump packs strapped to each of them. Danny almost lost his cap at first, but by the sixth floor he was a natural at it. It was just like parachuting through the air, only in reverse.

They encountered a few more small groups of Tulane, but Danny took them out almost effortlessly, and with extreme efficiency. The rest of the team hardly had to do anything, Danny was systematically taking out every hostile they came across. If things kept up like this, he could keep everyone safe.

All in all, things were going well.

That was, until they reached the bridge.

The doors to the bridge looked as if they’d been blown open. They hung there, half retracted into the wall, wrenched into the room from what looked like concussive force. Danny could hear yelling in an alien language even from out in the hall, but they were too far away for his translator to make any sense of the words. He held his hand up and made a fist, signaling everyone to hold. They formed up on the entrance on the left side of the ruined door. Danny ducked his head and peeked in.

The Muruzian crew were huddled together in the corner, the Tulane looming over them with blades and blasters. One of the birds was kneeling in the center of the room before what appeared to Danny as just a hulking mass of metal on legs. Then he realized…

Aw fuck me

…it was a battle suit. Hydraulic muscles encased in oversized metal plating. Like a tank with an attitude. Danny had only seen one once before, during Academy training. He’d watched, uncomfortably scared, as a soldier in such a suit had punched a Humvee through a concrete wall.

The Muruzians never had a chance.

Neither did they, in all likelihood.

“Is that what I think it is?” Homet asked.

“Yeah,” Danny said, swallowing.

“What would a human say right now?”

“Fuck works.”

“Fuck then.”

“Stuns won’t get through that plating. And the birds aren’t gonna last a second if they decide to just wipe them out. Any plans?” Hayte asked.

The rest of the team just looked at him blankly.

“Fuck,” Coola said, unhelpfully shrugging.

Danny looked back into the bridge room, desperate for anything that might spark an idea, even a bad one would work.

4 hostiles.

1 in a tank.

Lots of friendlies.

Danny looked up above the battle suit. The roof had taken damage, the remains of a light source hanging from the ceiling. Wires sparked and embers fluttered down.

Maybe that could work?

“Okay, here’s the play. Twins and Hayte, take out the 3 by the hostages. Keep to stuns in case you miss. Homet, watch their backs. I’m gonna swap to scattershot and shoot the ceiling right above the suit, try to dislodge those wires and zap the bastard. That’ll distract him or drop something heavy on him, either works. Okay? On 3.”

Coola and Ritz looked like they wanted to protest, but he wasn’t paying attention anymore.

Danny counted.

1 prayer.

2 prayers.

Fuck it.

3!

Danny burst into the room first, screaming and shooting, which was fair since he’d probably get ripped to shreds first. The rest of the team came in a beat later, ducking to the side and firing at the pirates. It took one extra shot to knock out the guards, as Danny fired boiling plasma buckshot into the ceiling. There was a quick BOOMF!! as a an electrical explosion fried the wiring in the roof. Sparks and melted carbon rained down on the battle suit, and Danny could hear muffled screaming coming from the inside as the super heated shrapnel made its way into the seams. The battle suit flailed its arms and spun around to face them, weapon raised. Homet dove left, firing into its side, doing barely anything. Danny went wide to the right, trying to confuse it. Everything was moving in slow motion to him, himself included. The battle suit, his teammates, the scared Muruzians. Everything except his brain. That was firing on all cylinders, adrenaline coursing through his body, his mind desperate to come up with a way to get everyone else out alive.

His back felt heavy.

And then he realized, there was a better way.

Danny charged the battle suit as it turned to face him, firing as he ran. When he was right on top of it, he dropped and slid between its legs. It bent over to look for him, but Danny was already climbing up its back, strapping his jump pack to its side and wedging his rifle under some wires on the other. He brought his fist down on the pack, and the Tulane shot to the side, throwing Danny to the floor.

If Danny couldn’t take out the suit, all he had to do was scramble the guy inside.

“EVERYONE GET DOWN!” He ordered, quick as he could before the suit slammed into the side of the wall, crushing the plasma rifle and detonating the small core that powered it.

The sound was deafening, even with the battle suit taking the brunt of the explosion. It sounded like a train had rammed into the side of their heads going at full speed. Danny got thrown into the opposite wall from the force, as well as several of the Muruzians and Homet. The rest were scattered across the room, battered, bruised, and some a little burnt. But everyone was alive, including the three Tulane they’d stunned, which was a small miracle in and of itself.

“Chief, what’s a human word that’d work for right now?” Ritz asked, lying on his back in the corner with a giant bird man on top of him.

“Fuck still works,” Danny said.

“Fuuuuuuck then,” Ritz groaned. “I think my tail is broken.”

“What the hell were you doing Ducane?” Homet asked angrily. “No real plan, and then that?”

“Yeah, not pushing back on that one,” Danny admitted. “That sucked, and I’m sorry. But how else do you take down a battle suit?”

Danny walked over to the wrecked suit crumpled in the wall, pulling his pistol just to be safe. The thing sparked and a motor somewhere creaked, but he couldn’t see any signs of life coming from it. He banged on the head with the butt of his gun. It clanged dully.

Then the arm shot out and clamped around Danny’s waist. He could feel his bones grinding together under the strength of the metal claw wrapped around him. Hot metal seared his skin where his armor and clothes got burned away.

Danny shouted in alarm before the suit pulled him in, putting him face to face with the Tulane. The helmet visor flipped up and Danny was looking into the eyes of the raider inside.

Damn was he ugly.

Half melted orange flesh poured over the cybernetics in their face, their eyes bloodshot and twitching in all directions. Pipes and wiring were sticking out of their deformed neck. They tried to croak out words but the translator didn’t register it as a language.

Danny panicked and unloaded the whole clip into the Tulane’s face. At that close a range with no barrier, the ballistic force of Danny’s Terran firearm splattered the alien’s brains across the wall and much on Danny himself.

“FUCK!” Danny screamed. “God damnit, I didn’t… he caught be by surprise, I didn’t mean to fire lethals.”

“You killed a pirate Ducane, nobody is gonna be too upset about that,” Homet said. “What we are mad about is that you ran in half cocked without working out a plan with us.”

“Chief, you charged right at a battle suit with no way to survive it,” Coola said. Ritz and Hayte were tending to the Muruzians. “You completely disregarded any help we could’ve given you. Fuck!”

“Okay I think we’re over using that word now,” Danny said, prying himself out of the suit’s grip. He wiped his face, trying to get the blood smears out of his hair. “Truthfully, I didn’t think of that until the fight had started, but… yeah, okay, you guys are right. I should’ve got back-up first.”

“You do all this work for us Chief, training us like Terran soldiers, but then you don’t let us be part of the team when it counts. Why not?” Coola crossed her arms and looked him in the eye, her tail whipping back and forth angrily.

“I don’t know…” Danny started, but Homet cut him off.

“Chief, this is the first real combat situation we’ve all experienced together, and I have to say, we failed as a team. You did almost all the work, which isn’t to say you did a bad thing, but we don’t need Ducane the Destroyer right now, we need Chief Ducane to lead us, to make the plan and to trust us. Better, we need the Chief Ducane who trusts himself, who knows he did a good job training us.”

Danny wiped his hands stained with purple blood on his pants and looked at the team, his team, and realized they were right. He trained them, he knows their strengths and weaknesses, and knew he’d done a great job at turning them into marines.

So why had he taken on so much himself today?

“You humans don’t need to save us every time, you know?” Ritz said, walking over.

“You’re right,” Danny conceded. “I got it in my head that it was my job alone to keep everybody on the ship safe, including you all. I can see I need to work on that.” Danny nodded towards the Muruzians in the corner. “Let’s get them down to the shuttles and get back to the ship, yeah?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Noah was ordered to stay in the vicinity until a relief ship could come and take care of the Muruzians, their ship, and take the Tulane into custody. The bird peoples were given guest quarters on board the Noah until then, taking several hours for them all to get processed and translators. Danny was back in his office, going through the metric ton of data they’d taken from the Tulane ship when Homet walked in.

“Sir… Danny, I think we need to talk.”

Danny looked up at him and sighed.

“Look, I heard you guys loud and clear, no more solo acts, promise.”

“No, I don’t think you’re really hearing us. You took on everything by yourself today. I might’ve been on point, but you were still somehow first in the door. Our job is to keep the ship safe. Our job is to walk into the fire. Your job is to get us out the other side. And you can’t do that every time with this wanton disregard for your own well being.” Homet took a breath.

“I talked to the Captain,” he said.

“Homet, what did you-”

“Tomorrow it is mandatory you stay out of your office and take a real day off.” Homet grinned at him. “Captain’s orders.”

Danny just sat there looking at him for a minute before busting out laughing.

“Jackass, you had me worried for a minute there. Alright, fine, less coffee, more beer, yeah? You come get a drink with me after your shift. You’re in charge of the kids then.”

“Aye aye, Chief,” Homet said, joining him in laughter. “You humans might be the weirdest species I’ve ever met, but even you guys have to rest every once in a while.”

“Only when you make us, apparently.”

[host-hubliminal]

>>START_LOG: HostLog_5: Subject: Host 2.3 Name: Mephone 4 Species: Mephone 4/Meeple Product | Objectmade; Nonbiological Lifeform Source: Inanimate Insanity Gender: Male Pronouns: he/him Description: Mephone 4 is an average sized touchscreen cellphone of Steve Cobs’ creation. His home screen appears as a gradient from near-cyan blue to cornflower blue. His limbs are completely robotic (Addendum/ We have no way of knowing this. We have not cut him open yet.). The pads on his digits and palms allow him to interact with his own screen and other screens. Mephone 4 has no tail. Mephone 4 is reported by Mr. Cobs to be extremely outdated, bringing him here is a risk of our own safety (Addendum/ It is unlikely Mr. Cobs cares about Mephone 4 at this time due to the extremely long period between seasons of Mephone 4’s show. That and we doubt Mr. Cobs has interdimensional tracking built into Mephone 4.). Mephone is lazy, but opportunistic, and will often bite off more than he can chew, both literally and figuratively. It is possible Mephone weighs the second most out of all the Hosts on file, with Host 2.2 weighing the most. Mephone 4 isn’t an outwardly violent individual, but it is possible he can do heavy damage if he really wanted. Known Abilities: Item generation, Respawn abilities, and Teleportation via Portals. In tandem to this, he is a functional cellular phone. Procedures to take: We have had to very legally acquire (Addendum/ The program was stolen. This information is unimportant.) and modify Meeple Hinderance Technology to suit the nerfing of Mephone 4’s abilities to prevent escape and otherwise. Whether or not this programming works in practice is unknown, and will not be known until entry of Host 2.3. It is also possible this technology is completely incompatible and will not have a chance of working, if so, we will give up on researching Host 2.3 unless we can somehow convince Mr. Cobs to give us the tech to do so (Addendum/ Who is writing these logs? And can they cut the flowery, passive aggressive shit? This is a Research Log, not a private diary.). All in all, the nerfing of Mephone 4 will probably be extremely unstable, so it is best to convince him NOT to use his powers.

END_LOG.

[indignantlemur]

hello! I was wondering are there any etiquette rules for andorians that would confuse humans and vice versa? Thank you.

Hello, Skygirl! Sorry for taking so long to answer - still a bit broken, so typing is a bit uncomfortable!

To answer this question, first I'm going to break down what etiquette actually is. I'm going to keep it pretty simple, because literal tomes have been written about the nuances of etiquette in various cultures, and I'd rather not rehash the last five hundred years of social standards across the world.

Etiquette is defined in the Oxford dictionary as "the customary code of polite behavior in society or among members of a particular profession or group." This code is usually determined through a combination of majority opinion, traditional values, religious proscriptions, and social hierarchies.

From there, etiquette can be further divided into categories of politeness and manners, and business etiquette.

Politeness and manners basically come down to self-regulation to follow a social code of conduct by following normative behavioural standards and being, overall, pleasant company. A person has good or bad manners depending on whether or not they can adhere to these social standards, and an individual may have good or bad adherence to different types of manners relating to hygiene, courtesy, and social norms all at the same time. So, hypothetically, you could have a perfectly polite person with terrible hygiene and a weird disregard for others' personal space. Or, conversely, someone with impeccable hygiene, middling social awareness, and absolutely terrible manners. Literally any combination is possible, and one can see this just by looking at the folks who surround us every day.

Now, business etiquette is a little different in that it's much more goal-oriented and involves the necessary adherence to ethics and norms required to successfully facilitate transactions and generate profit. Business ethics can vary quite a bit between corporate bodies, and it's difficult to standardize a universal code of conduct because of the unique nuances each culture has regarding business, which usually results in a kind of culture shock for all of the parties involved.

A common example is the practice of napping at work, which in Japan is often seen as a sign of something called "inemuri" - earnestness and dedication to one's work, resulting in one working so hard that one is exhausted and falls asleep at their post. In North America, however, napping at work (when not on your break, and sometimes not even then) is a good way to get written up and fired. The two approaches are somewhat incompatible, as you can clearly see.

So, looking at all of the above, I think we can pretty confidently say that there are definitely going to be some things Andorians and Humans trip over when dealing with each other - after all, it still happens regularly within Human cultures, and we at least have the benefit of at least being the same species!

So! What would some common sticking points be?

In terms of politeness and manners, I could easily see Humans stumbling over the highly ritualized customs of the Andorians. Andorians society has developed over time to be very rigid in structure and social norms in every day interactions as a means of preventing internal conflict, which often gives Humans the impression that Andorians are cold and unfriendly. In truth, Andorians are only cool and distant with strangers, but their demeanour and a lack of expressiveness in their faces (due to chitin) makes them seem stoic and really quite unapproachable to the uninitiated even well past the initial introductions and early acquaintanceship.

Additionally, while Humans and Andorians largely agree on standards of hygiene and personal grooming there are a number of differences in how some of these things are treated within the different cultures.

For example, Andorians would sit and soak in mineral hot springs all day, if they could reasonably get away with it, to the point of conducting family meetings and minor business while soaking - unlike Humans, Andorians do not easily overheat and faint, nor does prolonged exposure to high heat bother them overly much. This habit of languishing in the water for hours on end is something which Humans tend to find excessive and, when it comes to meetings, inappropriate. Additionally, Andorians are fastidious about bathing prior to soaking, and forgoing that step is considered not only rude but incredibly unsanitary - a step which some Humans skip, or roll into a single event with soaking, to the horror of the Andorians. Adding further complications to such things, the Human tendency in certain cultures to view all nudity as inherently sexual baffles Andorians, who frequently soak together in familial, bonded, or mixed groups and see no issue with such things.

Similarly, grooming each other is often a sign of trust and affection amongst Humans and therefore not something we allow strangers to do outside of specific circumstances (barber/salon, wedding prep, etc.) As a very social and physical species, Andorians have no such compunctions about contact with others ranging from family to work colleagues and acquaintances. Andorians are very touchy and mean absolutely nothing by it most of the time, but they don't always remember that Humans do things a bit differently and have different ideas of what is and is not appropriate.

Cosmetics as part of personal hygiene and grooming can also be a point of confusion, as Andorians are fond of using brightly pigmented colours around their eyes and mouths across both sexes, even in professional environments. Humans, meanwhile, primarily market cosmetics at women, using products ranging from subtle to neon, and such a strongly gendered association would be considered bizarre on Andoria to say the least.

In terms of personal conduct in social situations, Humans can find Andorian customs to be extremely rigid and difficult to navigate without prior research. Andorians use a number of visual and verbal cues to indicate who they are, what Clan they belong to, and their station in society that are lost on most Humans who haven't taken the time to prep in advance. An Andorian can tell at a glance what most Humans need to play 20 Questions to find out. In fact, the very act of inquiring about these details inevitably irritates the Andorian being interrogated for information which, to their mind, should be quite obvious.

On the opposite side of this dynamic, Humans are infuriatingly vague to Andorians at times. Unless a uniform is involved, it is remarkably difficult to discern whether one is speaking to a social subordinate or superior when conversing with a Human and often times lower ranking and higher ranking Humans conduct themselves in the same manner.

And in terms of business etiquette, Andorians are very formal during business dealings and are not generally receptive to friendly overtures, which they regard as deeply suspicious - and small talk falls under friendly overtures.

When Andorians enter into a business meeting, they are there to reach an agreement, exchange goods and/or services, and leave. They do not want to be friends, they do not want to hear about your children or have you ask about theirs, and if they wanted your opinion on the weather or decor they would have asked for it. Honestly, when dealing with Andorians on mercantile matters, it is best to stick to business topics only until such a time as it is concluded. Discussing business over dinner, as some Humans are wont to do, just doesn't fly with Andorians; dinner is dinner, business is business, and never the two shall meet.

In the workplace, Andorians find they their work days and deadline schedules are not fully compatible with Human ones; Andorians work on a 36 hour day, requiring very little sleep at a time, and Humans function on a 24 hour day. Andorians receiving deadlines from Humans, such as "I need this done by the end of the day" often have to double and triple check if that means today-today or tomorrow-today. And Humans never seem to be available to cover shifts, since they always seem to be sleeping! It's very frustrating for both sides.

Hope this helps! If you have anymore questions, do let me know!

[hive-sight]

Changes and Diets 1

Greetings Sentients. Since settling among the debris, Lumina, this one’s assigned Thalorix ambassador, has started venturing out of their designated chambers. From the time of leaving Xylopthia, Lumina has only been seen out of their chambers for mealtimes.

More surprisingly, Lumina has begun to enter the research deck. They appear to have a passing interest in the culture of the Terrans. This one will attach a transcript of one of Lumina’s inquiries with physical descriptors.

--Transcript Start—

Elysia:        Fascinating…

Lumina:      *Walks up from behind Elysia* What is?

Elysia:        *Startles* Oh! Lumina… This one was just analyzing the small groups the Terran’s divide themselves into. It appears that many Terrans will group together in order to raise their young!

Lumina:      *Leans forward, focusing intently upon the view screen. One of the digits from their primary limb indicates toward the image* This is one of their young?

Elysia:        *Dips their antennae* It is, yes.

Lumina:      It is so… small. *Moves their digit to a different individual* What of this one? They look different from the other three.

Elysia:        *Dips their antennae once more* That is one of their females. Terrans appear to be highly sexually dimorphic.

Lumina:      This one, what are their roles?

Elysia:        Her.

Lumina:      *Looks towards Elysia* Apologies?

Elysia:        While some Terrans use the terms, “They/Them/Their,” it is not typical. Those are regularly known as plural pronouns to Terrans. This one, *Elysia gestures to the Terran* uses the singular female pronouns “She/Her,” as an expression of identity.

Lumina:      She/Her...

--Transcript End--

Since this interaction, Lumina has become a staple of the research deck. Regularly they will read page after page of Terran culture. This has been a relief, as this has freed some of this one’s time to begin looking into other aspects of Terra.

This one has begun looking into the dietary habits of the Terrans. It is important to know what sustenance is available on Terra prior to attempting first contact. One could only imagine the devastation if none of the foodstuffs were compatible with our digestive tracks.

There was a surprising revelation to come from this. Terrans were omnivores. A Terran can, with little preparation, just as easily consume and digest meat as they can plants. This is in stark contrast to the diets of the Xylokthians. We subsist, largely, on glucose and water.

This one had a moment of disappointment, thinking that Terran foods would be incompatible with this one’s species. At least, this one was worried, until the discovery that Terrans are absolutely addicted to sugars.

Terrans add sugar to just about every item in their diet. They add sugar into their drinks. Terrans have crafted a drink that contains, in 12 ounces, more than the amount of sugar needed per day for a human to survive.

They have named this drink “Coca-Cola,” and this one truly wishes to try it.

Considering starting first contact early on this, TD 7th of June, 2030, XD 4682C 4A 19L, this is Elysia of Xylopthia, signing off.

[warmmilk-n-honey]

So I've been seeing a lot of dadbastian hate lately in the confessions-which is fine you are completely in your right to not like something I do. As a dadbastian scholar I just wanted to write out some of the reasons I and others love it because I will take any opportunity to talk about dadbastian lmao.

I think dadbastian is interesting because of the inherent angst of having a parent/child relationship that is inherently incompatible due to the difference in species between father and son, (this can also lead to funny/cute hijinks) more about that down below 👇

Let's talk about Coattails, the dadbastian fic. Part of the appeal of Coattails is seeing Sebastian transform from how he is characterized in the manga, to a loving parent, and having him grapple with the guilt of contributing to Ciel's trauma. There's catharsis in Sebastian beginning to feel the way we feel for Ciel when reading the manga. I can only speak for myself here but reading the manga feels like a thousand knives being stabbed into my heart knowing that Ciel will never get the help he desperately needs, thus Coattails provides a sort of remedy to this with Ciel's trauma being properly addressed. It's not that I don't like the dark story of the manga, but it can be nice to have a more comforting alternative with the characters I love. And while it is comforting, there is also a lot of angst that goes with that comfort. They say the worst thing a parent can go through is outliving their child, and that is inherent in Ciel and Sebastian's relationship because their species aren't compatible with one another. Sebastian also may not be the best person to parent Ciel, but he's all that Ciel has, he's doing his best but worries about failing the child. Manga Seb is a very static character, so giving him more human emotions and feelings uwu can make him more dynamic and interesting to write/read about. There are just endless things you can explore with the monster parent/human child dynamic, it is simply chef's kiss.

I also want to dispel that myth that dadbastian is inherently "wholesome," because it certainly doesn't have to be. You can explore abusive dynamics with dadbastian and explore Sebastian's demonic personality. My biggest issue with the way Yana characterizes Ciel and Sebastian's relationship is the psychosexual aspect to it that is not properly explored nor addressed. It is just there for gross fanservice reasons-I could write an entire essay on that in of itself. Dadbastian can provide a way to explore this abusive dynamic without the sexual undertones that can be quite triggering for some people. Also to say Yana doesn't purposely make their relationship parental on any level would just be false, it's just that she combines "the filial with the erotic" to quote that academic Black Butler essay written like a decade ago lol. Dadbastian simply takes out the erotic side that is not thoughtfully addressed within the manga to make it a more straight forward abusive parent type relationship.

TLDR; I think many of us are attracted to dadbastian because it makes Seb into a more interesting and dynamic character than he gets to be in the manga, cuts out some of the uncomfortable "undertones" in there relationship that are not properly explored/addressed in the manga, there is a lot of angst to their monster parent human child relationship, and having Sebastian be a loving parent can be cathartic for many because Ciel's whole personality is that he needs a mom. idk my brain is just filled with serotonin when Seb tucks his kid in or something-I can't explain it!!

Dadbastain is the best thing this fandom ever invented y'all are just mean

[acourtofthought]

Elain and Lucien were given a mating bond in book 2.

Their story has always been and will continue to be about them because it's not just about it being Elain's bond but Lucien's as well and we know that males struggle to a greater degree.

It is about what happens when two strangers from two different worlds were shocked to find they share a rare and special link to one another.

Where neither was in a place to really explore or give in to what that means because they had been dealt trauma after trauma in their lives and had to make it through that darkness first. Feeling drawn to one another but knowing they weren't ready and needing to navigate their paths alone before confronting what it is they might mean to the other.

Elain avoiding her traumas and instead latching on to the idea of something easy with no strings attached in her crush with Az is not the major hurdle of her character arc.

Her crush on Az is the most minor and insignificant detail of Elain's story.

The rejection from her fiance who she pledged to love forever when accepting his ring.

The loss of her father who she loved and cared for.

Being made into a species she once feared and living in a land she never wanted to be in.

Stabbing someone when cruelty greatly bothers her.

Being given powers she doesn't fully understand and that not one person in the IC has bothered to try to help her learn.

Being surrounded by people who don't really see her and often speak for her even when it goes against what she herself wants.

Having a pull to someone, that pull being something she doesn't understand as she wasn't raised on the idea of the mating bond, a bond that forces her instincts to react in a way she's unaccustomed to.

These are the big issues we need Elain's thoughts on.

A near kiss after a year of nothing more than a few glances and lingering touches is dust compared to the heaviness of what I'm guessing is Elain's inner turmoil with the rest, that she's desperately trying not to think about.

In my opinion, Az has only been her attempt at a band, used to hold back the water in a dam and after Solstice, that dam finally exploded.

He wasn't the quick fix she hoped to get and now the real work will begin because she can no longer run from her past and the things she needs to face head on. That includes her mate and the real reasons she's avoided him.

Her story started with Lucien. It doesn't matter that she met Az in the human lands because Az walked away as no one to her. She still looked forward to her marriage to Graysen, still slept with Graysen, Az did not register as anyone more than her sisters fae friend.

The thing that suddenly threw a wrench into the life Elain wanted had nothing to do with Az and everything to do with her being turned and finding out that Lucien was her mate:

“I don’t care what his name is.” The first sharp words from Graysen. “You are his mate. Do you even know what that means?”

Her story started with Lucien and as we've seen for SJM mated pairs (even ones as poorly matched as Rhys's parents since some love to throw that out as proof of why Elucien won't happen though they ignore what is said about his parents incompatible personalities), I believe her story will end with Lucien. Because it's not just her bond but his as well and SJM is not going to give her version of Jamie Fraser anything less than the best.

[prof-lemon]

OOC Edit: Adding a trigger warning to the top here for mentions of Pokemon experimentation, cruelty, and death.

Hello all. I wanted to share some information I received about the specifics of Team Calm's experiments and research.

If you are not familiar with Team Calm, Team Calm is a team focused on creating "ultra domesticated" Pokemon. These Pokemon have a lower prey drive, and are much more docile. Team Calm then gives away these Pokemon, or sells them for a profit. These Pokemon also have health issues, as well as general lethargy from decreased prey drive.

Many people have had concerns about how this was accomplished so quickly. Domestication is a slow process, and Team Calm is able to create UD lines very quickly.

I received information from someone who chooses to remain anonymous. Regretfully, the process by which Team Calm domesticates these Pokemon is one of cruel experimentation.

Team Calm has created a certain compound that is used to speed up the domestication process. This is quickly injected into Pokemon eggs, and fundamentally changes how the Pokemon develops inside the egg.

You may have seen some of the UD Pokemon. As previously stated, they come with health issues and lethargy. These are the ones Team Calm advertises. They are the best case scenario.

The documents I have received show a history of unethical experimentation. The compound they inject into Pokemon eggs is fundamentally incompatible with many species of Pokemon.

I have spent hours digging through documents and reports about the worst case scenarios of these experiments. The ones that do not hatch are lucky.

The ones that do hatch will rarely live long. The results vary greatly. Some have instincts so nonexistent the Pokemon does not even know how to breathe, and ends up suffocating because it never figured out breathing. Some Pokemon are born with jaws so far back their skulls are permanently impacted. Some Pokemon are born with such great fear and prey instinct they die from that fear alone, even if they are physically well.

What Team Calm is showing you are the successes. We should have been asking about the failures.

[toomanybs]

Homo Superior: Awesome New Species or Super Over-Exaggerated

Mutants being called a different species compared to baseline humans is a common trope in X-Men media. Sometimes by human bigots, sometimes by mutant supremacists. But that,,, doesn't sound right. So we're going to use a trio of Species Concepts biology taught me to test the question: Does this claim hold any water? Like, any at all?

Morphological Species Concept:

If two groups look different and distinctly recognizable, they probably aren't the same species. This is appearance, abilities, and behaviors.

Mutants can obviously do things that are impossible for baseline humans. Professor X can read minds, and Magneto can control electromagnetism. No "Homo Sapien" could, so they are a new species. Very cut and dry. However... can Professor X bend metal with his mind? No? Then I guess he is also a different species from Magneto. And every other non-telepath

Mutants are shown distinct from baseline humans by defining what they are not, but they are as different from one another as they are from baselines. A different species that does not make unless you want to try and apply that logic to each and every one of us, individually

Is a lactose intolerant man a different species than me, who loves to drink milk? No? Guess amazing abilities a nebulous ~~someone else~~ wouldn't have isn't enough to be a new species

Mutants think the same way humans do, socialize the same way humans do, and live the same way humans do. If they can hide their powers they fit right in, no greater difficulty than the stress, which they would not be able to do if a different species

Verdict: They are the same species

Molecular Species Concept:

DNA. If two groups have very similar DNA they are probably related. Similar enough and they are probably the same species.

It's called the X-gene, which seems to either refer to a group of genes or be very poorly understood/vague. Either way the genetic difference between baseline and mutant is small, possibly to the point of being unidentifiable. If you watched First Class, you've seen Charles flirt by naming mutations as an analogy for Mutants. We can assume the X-gene is so small as to be comparable to normal variation

Verdict: They are the same species

Biological Species Concept:

A species is a distinct evolutionary line. If two groups can reproduce together and get kids that can also reproduce they are probably of the same species, because the pair isn't an evolutionary dead-end. If anything gets in the way, be it mechanics, timing, genetic incompatibility, behavior, or kid's (poor) survival they are probably not the same species or on their way to diverging

Some differing species, like grey wolves and coyotes, can produce hybrids, but they won't be of either species. Instead the are something distinct and new (often less suitable to either of the parent's niches), such as the previously mentioned coywolves, who are on their way to being their own species

Let's look at some canon examples of human and mutant pairings, and their kids. I will include Comic and Movie characters, because I wanted an example of baseline parents = baseline kid without feeling pedantic:

Magneto (mutant) married Magda (baseline) and their first child was Anya (baseline). They sometimes then had Wanda+Pietro (mutants). Magneto and Suzanna Dane (baseline) had Lorna Dane (mutant)

Mystique (mutant) and Sabretooth (mutant) had Grayson Creed (baseline). Scott Summers (mutant) and Jean Gray (mutant) had Cable (mutant).

William Drake (human) and Madeline Bass (human) Bobby Drake (mutant) and Ronny Drake (baseline)

mutant + baseline = mutant or baseline, no hybrid

mutant + mutant = mutant or baseline

baseline + baseline = mutant or baseline

If you believe parents of a shared species could produce offspring of a different species, you are wrong. About as wrong as a guy who thinks the dinosaurs are all dead because a black hole was jealous of their beauty and sucked them all up. That's how wrong

Verdict: They are the same species

To Conclude:

Magneto is dumb. Apocalypse is dumb. Shaw is dumb. Trask is dumb. Baseline humans are not the irrelevant leftovers of a bygone area, or the blood-sworn enemies across town. They are the Mutants' identical twin in the bottom bunk with a slightly different freckle pattern

The fact that Apocalypse has existed since 10,000 years ago (according to X-Men: Apocalypse) and manages to find 4 other Mutants every time he shows up despite mutants being unknown to humans is evidence enough to be honest. Mutants are a part of humanity and have been for longer than literature. They are not the instantaneous, brand new direction to replace humanity. They are fully integrated, but often unrecognized, members of the Homo sapiens. No such thing as a Homo superior

You could argue they are a subspecies (Homo sapiens superior), but humans have spread across the entire globe and been cut apart by entire oceans for and have not a single subspecies among us. Native Americans are twice as old as Apocalypse, the oldest known mutant. Mutants aren't even isolated from baselines. It would be very hard to believe they are more separate than any real world group

[extinctionstories]

When biotech companies talk about resurrecting the passenger pigeon, through cloning or other genetic wizardry, it’s hard for me to take them seriously. Partly because I have my doubts regarding technology that hasn’t succeeded in producing even a simple domestic chicken. But mostly because, I wonder where they think the newly-created birds would fit.

Imagine millions of pigeons landing on power lines; toppling poles; taking out cable and plunging cities into darkness. Nesting in the false branches of cell and radio towers. Sending light posts crashing down onto cars in parking lots and streets. Swimming against the stream of interstate traffic. Colliding with skyscrapers, dazzled by their own reflected hordes.

Fluttering silhouettes, black against the blue, would block out days of summer leisure, blanketing festivals and concerts and sports fields with their white sleet. They’d interfere with fireworks and drone displays, and even the take off and landing of airplanes. Think of the trouble just a couple of geese can cause. (The last free-flying pigeon died without ever having had to share the skies with wings of wood or fiberglass or steel.)

Birds swooping down, to drink and to drown, from public reservoirs and lakeside harbors and backyard swimming pools. Decimating the manicured trees of city parks. Frightening pets and children and livestock. Antagonizing home owners associations up and down the east coast.

If we brought them back, this wing-flapping force of nature, what would be their place? This compound organism whose way of life depended upon existing en masse. A gust of wind can’t be held in a bottle.

For tens of thousands of years, passenger pigeons thundered over the land, marking and maintaining it, the rare species whose environmental impact could rival our own. It took scarcely a century to craft a world with which they were fundamentally incompatible. A landscape that can exist only without them.

And then I wonder, how much of that sterilized world came about because of their absence. What other ways might we have found to live, if we’d been forced to share the landscape with the wildness of the feathered gale?

How much better might things be, if the pigeons had never been gone?

[mirronhg]

Does Mira want to have another baby? Has she thought about it? Is it even possible physically for her? Who was the father of the unborn child?

Sorry for the avalanche of questions! I'm curious.

Thank you for your interest! I appreciate it ✧

She had no thoughts of wanting another child, because the memories of pregnancy and the events associated with it in captivity were the only suppressed memories in her head. It only came out when the worm in Commoraggh was looking for something to profit from in her mind. This little bastard literally opened a small Pandora's box to simply take nothing from there. Dying and looking at this memory, she felt something close to a shock and at the same time an understanding of which exactly part of the puzzle was missing in her memories.

In any case, looking back on these events, she felt a sense of deep despondency leading nowhere. She has been trying for many years to get off her life swing of failures to succeed and find something of her own just to end up with her face smashed into the asphalt at high speed. This struggle is pointless and she has given up on wanting something.

In Commoraggh the psyker's abilities were triggered towards biomancy, which restored her body, perceiving non-human organs, which, for the sake of interest, a haemonculus put into her [instead of artificial ones that were there] as her own. That is, biomancy sewed part of drukhari's code into her own. And it wasn't anything good. With artificial intestines, she felt like thick worms were crawling inside her, and now she feels like her insides are itching and she feels discomfort under her skin. She can't get rid of it. Her biomancy will reproduce the erroneous code over and over again. But, nevertheless, from then on, her recovered body was physically able to conceive a child.

And the pregnancy actually happened, some time after the main events of the game. But this pregnancy turned out to be unexpected, because answering Nomos' question about the concept of family, she didn't expect Nomos to perceive the information about the incompatibility of Eldar and human biology as a challenge and turn her being inside out. From now on, her body can recreate a representative of another species and it's not even a half-breed or a hybrid. It's a damn fully drukhari kid.

She had difficult feelings about the sudden pregnancy, because it was neither her nor the decision of the child's father. And she had absolutely no idea what kind of monster she would give birth to. And if the child does appear alive, then he will be an absolute outcast from all sides. It's a terrible fate and she didn't want that for a child. She should have had an abortion, but she just couldn't. Not after everything that had happened in her life. But in the end, everything worked out. The child was born a healthy and full-fledged Eldar as I said before. It was a boy. After a while, he got a sister.

She isn't ready for the third one because this pregnancy is very hard and she has to torn and put a part of her soul into the soul of the children.

I know that joint children from an Eldar and a human were possible only in the first edition, and then it was removed. Now this is just a headcanon of people. But I tried to hang up a few guns, for an outcome like this, that would come together and shoot at her. And when I say that there is almost nothing human left in her, this isn't a dramatic metaphor. It's literally.

In addition, there is another moment that is associated with a pit of total darkness where we will receive the buff "champion of the abyss" if we successfully pass it alone.

And yes, the father is Marazhai.

[rjalker]

"I'm autistic and I feel isolated, almost like I'm a different species, so I'm going to write a story about someone who literally is a different species and that's why they don't fit in!!!"

Okay, cool, sounds fun. But are you prepared to deal with the resulting statement you're making that different people shouldn't live together?

Are you going to provide specific problems that arise from this scenario that make cohabitating an actual problem, (temperature incompatability, dietary requirements that can't be met, overstimulation from having different levels of hearing or vision) or is it just going to be that the problem is they're different kinds of people, and that means they shouldn't live together?

If you want to write being a completely different species as a metaphor for being autistic, you need to make sure you're not accidentally arguing that segregation is a good thing.

Because you can very easily slide from point A (being autistic is socially isolating because you're different from everyone else) to point E (different people shouldn't live together at all because there's no way to be happy unless you're around people who are exactly like you)

How to avoid this with your "different species as a metaphor for autism" stories?

Assuming your setting has many sentient species, have very specific problems that prevent specific different species from living together.

Do not make it a general problem of "no species can live together"

Show us different species living together, even when there's no "real" advantage to doing so (like living in a port city with lots of trade passing through). Make cohabitation a casual thing that lots of people from lots of different species do.

Show us accommodations that species make for eachother when living together. Species X has incredibly sensitive hearing that can cause them pain? Species Y adapts their local dialect to soften what would normally be loud pronunciations to convey specific meanings. Species A has strict mating seasons where they lose control of themselves and start attacking anyone they view as a rival? Species B, and anyone else who doesn't want to participate in the fighting, moves to another site for the season and gets to come back in a few weeks to everything being nice and tidy.

Make it so there are specific problems that specific individuals have with certain situations, not the entire species at large. Even with your metaphor being about being autistic, you should still have some characters, of every species, who are literally autistic. And include other neurodiversities too, like mental illnesses.

And while we're at it, give people physical disabilities too, and not just as a result of cohabitation with the "Well species J are mermaids and Species K are land-mammals, so if you think about it, Species K are disabled in the water" thing. Have characters who are amputees from birth and injuries. Have people with allergies. Have people with migraines. People who are deaf and blind and hard of hearing and struggle to see and any other physical disability you can think of. Your species shouldn't be monoliths, not mentally, physically, or culturally.

???? IDK

Just try not to let your "being autistic is like being a different species! I must find my people!!!" thing turn into "segregation is good and are we even really sure those other species are even people"? thing.

because it's a lot shorter of a slide than you think it is.

And again. cannot stress this enough. You also have to show literal autistic characters existing in your setting in these various cultures. Even if it's a fantasy setting so you make up another word to use instead of "autistic".

Otherwise your story might accidentally have the moral of "autistic people are literally not human and there's something Wrong With Them™ that we need to try and fix or else we have to cast them out of society altogether".

Don't let biological essentialism ruin your fun autistic story.

[mdhwrites]

you've said the collector isn't a kid bc he's been alive for thousands of years, but isn't he still mentally (and physically for that matter) a kid though? or at least that's how i think the show wanted us to perceive him as

(though the show never makes it clear if the collector's species just age much more slowly than others, or if being trapped for so long caused this specific collector to never age during that time)

for the record i do 100% agree abt the collector being a monster, so i'm not trying to argue with you on that/excuse the collector's actions just bc """""he's a kid"""""

So... This is one of those things that can't really be proven or disproven. On the one hand, you have the fact that you do not need to be mentally a child to be childish. Also, you can also be a child physically but have had to grow up quickly so you have the worldview of an adult. Not only that but we don't know how his people age. He was apparently old enough to work with his brothers (he knew their guidebook on genocide) but... Apparently a couple thousand years hasn't changed him whatsoever.

The thing that stops me most from claiming he is a child... Is the Draining Spell. In fact, even more than his lines about playing in bones, how Belos likes to torture the Grimmwalkers, destroy them, etc. like that that proves he knows what death is and is kind of extremely evil with how much glee he takes of all of this, just the fact that he KNOWS the draining spell at all is not a good sign.

That is not a spell a kid learns. That is not a spell a kid is taught. MAYBE some very evil or naive kids might accidentally read it but to be able to regurgitate after having been away from such books for literally thousands of years? Let alone to be able to even theorize with someone else on how to do it on a race of people that didn't exist before you were imprisoned. That means you mastered that fucker. You are the draining king! You sapped the magic out of people for FUN. That is how much you like this spell.

Also, if we want to claim he's just a dumb kid who doesn't like death or hurting people, doesn't like mass genocide like his brothers did... What the fuck was the conversation with Belos? What was ANY of them?

"I wish for a spell that can kill all witches upon this land. To make them extinct."

"Oh, you just mean make them sleepy, right?"

"...What?"

Belos is not exactly a subtle person at the height of his ability, let alone as Philip who BARELY is even okay at his job. He used mercenaries and two people who obviously were ready to believe anything he said. MASTER MANIPULATOR! So how is it that the Collector's childish views made him okay with this? It's not like the witches imprisoned him? Hell, he was willing to work with the Titan Trappers who VERY explicitly wanted to murder Titans for him but he just calls them weird. Like... Collector, you had literally NOTHING else to do than talk to these two people. Did you literally never listen to ANYTHING they said?

It doesn't make the Collector come off as a child. It just makes it so S2 Collector is literally a different character. The two are entirely incompatible. Even if they acted the same, the knowledge base and morality of the two Collectors is too severe for them to co-exist.

BUT. Like I said: I can't firmly prove that the Collector does not have a child's mind because while S2 Collector absolutely is just childish and gullible, he is not naive nor is he a child, except in physical appearance. S3 Collector though? That's a lot harder of a sell. He literally just wants to have fun and friends and is too self centered to care about if other people are having fun too. His fun prioritizes everything. That... Honestly still isn't actually a kid's point of view. Kids aren't inherently monsters. They do feel bad for their actions, even if they want to be justified in having fun. Admittedly, the Collector does EVENTUALLY do this as well so it's still kind of there but really awkwardly when put beside even everything else in S3.

After all, he presents King with the same book that has his brother's instructions to kill everything. A kid would not pull that out. They wouldn't risk for a SECOND that being seen. At least... Not a ten year old like this. Not unless we want to say that the Collector is a literal toddler, which is not the vibe TOH is going for. No, he's old enough to know what he's doing is wrong, just not old enough to actually do something about it I GUESS.

You're not supposed to think about it, like most elements in the show. Just like how you aren't supposed to think about how Amity bullied Willow for YEARS. Or how Hunter has probably killed wild witches in the past. There are inherent, core parts of these characters that you're just supposed to ignore so that they can be redeemed and given hugs because they never actually did anything wrong. So the show can tell you they're good people, rather than addressing and showing how they've stopped being bad people.

So yeah, we can argue about if The Collector is or isn't meant to be a child. It doesn't really matter at the end of the day, especially when good luck being actually able to say one way or another. I still won't claim it. I will just claim that he is a monster before he is ANYTHING else.

And I think that's way more important.

======+++++======

It is fun how TOH takes a shot at redeeming the gems in SU and how the fandom rallies around killing the villain being TOH's final subversion when the Collector is RIGHT THERE. You know what also redeemed one character who then went into personally decided exile while also killing the big bad but did it way better? Amphibia with Andrias and the Core. *sigh* Just a side tangent from my Discord recently I wanted to share.

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.