#wonder how the galactic scientists see it

[tobiasdrake]

Fun Fact: Even in space, ACAB.

Let's talk about Jaco: The Galactic Patrolman, a somewhat more obscure manga compared to Dragon Ball that Akira Toriyama wrote in its setting.

For the most part, this is a short and fairly simple story. It's primarily a character drama, with the developing relationship between Jaco and the scientist Omori as its central focus.

The manga is surprisingly vague about its connections to Dragon Ball for nearly all of its length, until its final chapter. Jaco is here on Earth to thwart some vague threat sent to the planet from a world of hostile aliens. It's only at the end of the manga that we learn he's talking about Goku.

Galactic Patrol detected an Attack Ball leaving Planet Vegeta and making its way to Earth, so they sent Jaco to... assess the situation and then make a decision about whether or not to do anything.

In his defense, the Saiyans are the most powerful race in the universe. I can understand why he doesn't want to fuck with a full-grown Saiyan warrior. Nobody wants to fuck with a full-grown Saiyan warrior. The most that the finest police force in the universe can do against Saiyans is to try and nip them in the bud when they're babies.

It's interesting that Galactic Patrol doesn't have Scouter technology. I wonder if that proprietary? Frieza might have a patent.

But at the same time, I don't want to be too sympathetic to Jaco because. Well. He sucks.

Galactic Patrol sucks. That's kind of the bit. Jaco is a self-absorbed little shit, utterly devoid of empathy or compassion for the people he polices. He's stranded on Earth right now because he wasn't watching the road while driving.

Jaco's a prick, but what little we learn about Galactic Patrol as a whole doesn't make them sound much better.

This one time Jaco accidentally pressed the Extinction Bomb when he wasn't supposed to and wiped out a planet. Hoo boy, was his boss mad! Gave him a real talking to before giving him another Extinction Bomb and putting him back on patrol.

Universe isn't going to police itself, y'know. Someone's gotta be out there very occasionally trying to stop those real estate genocides.

For his part, Jaco's in it for the aesthetic. He likes the image of being a cop, and he spends his time practicing looking cool for when he presumably dispenses justice upon the criminal element.

But his interactions with the common people are filled with condescension and menace.

Like I said, this is the bit. Jaco is a self-important thug with a badge, with the initial conflict stemming as much from trying to keep him from doing something awful to the community under his jurisdiction as from trying to solve his problem.

Ostensibly here to protect Earth from the impending arrival of a Saiyan threat, he is as much a threat to this community as the invader he's here to assess. Without Omori there to guide him, he'd be killing people left and right.

He fits in pretty well with the cast of Dragon Ball, many of whom at least begin their tenure with a degree of amorality to them. Omori himself is a bitter misanthrope ironically thrust into the position of having to convince Jaco not to kill people.

And then there's the manga's biggest Dragon Ball connection: The introduction of Tights.

Any reader who's been picking up on the Dragon Ball-ness of this universe will know immediately where Tights came from. Her name pun gives the game away. Just like how the final chapter clarifies Jaco's target as the young Goku, we get to see the familiar faces of Tights's family as well.

Bulma basically solves the entire plot singlehandedly.

Even as a little kid, the universe's greatest heretic remains unparalleled in the field of game-breaking super-intelligence. Bulma OP do not nerf.

Again, this speaks to how little of the manga is actually about the plot. If this were a story-driven manga, having a character from another manga show up in the final issue and solve the plot in the span of two pages would be pretty disappointing. But since the plot is just an excuse to make these characters interact with one another, it doesn't really matter.

We aren't here for the story; We're here for the relationship between Jaco, Omori, and Tights. With that in mind, Baby Bulma waddling up and going "I fixed the spaceship; Are you stupid or something?" is hysterical.

For her part, Tights lives up to her family legacy of being super-brilliant.

She graduated from college at 16. She's a genius like the rest of the family. What she's not is interested in science and technology. Possibly as a justification for why we've never heard of her before, Tights goes against the mold for her family.

She honestly seems like something of a free spirit. She lives in East City when we meet her, famously the city that Nappa wiped off the map, while Capsule Corp and Bulma's family are out in West City. Rather than a scientist, she works as a body double for a famous pop idol.

As a publicity stunt, they're going to launch an idol into space. Tights's job is to impersonate the idol so she can die in the inevitable disaster instead. She is bizarrely chill with being paid a huge sum of money to get stupidly killed. Much like Bulma, Tights has a terrible sense of self-preservation and is willing to take on incredible risk for the sake of achieving a personal goal.

Tights is the best character in the manga. An aspiring sci-fi novelist who agreed to probably die in space for the sake of the experience. This family gives zero fucks.

And then there's Omori himself.

Despite its title, Omori is basically the main character of this manga. He's the one whose life situation is most heavily scrutinized. This is his status quo that Jaco and Tights enter. Similarly, Omori is the character who undergoes personal transformation as his experiences with Jaco and Tights help him find hope in connections with other people again.

The three characters click really well together. So well, in fact, that Dragon Ball would end up recycling the setup of Super Alien/Crotchety Old Man/Spunky Young Woman for one of the best dynamics they ever wrote.

This is not a copy/paste; Cheelai, Leemo, and Broly are all distinctly separate characters. but you can still feel the barebones aesthetic of Tights, Omori, and Jaco in their dynamic.

So. Yeah. Overall, for what it is, it's a cute little short story about a group of characters just living lives in the world of Dragon Ball. It's the kind of thing that the franchise needs more of, and still does to this day: An opportunity to flesh out the universe a little but also just to let us live in it through the eyes of someone else.

[mushyblushyredhead]

TickleTober 2024 🎃

♡ Aug’s TKTober2024

DAY 18: Tickle Fight

“You Can Relax”—an SCP Foundation Story

♡ Also available on my FanFiction! (Autobot-Tiff)

Word Count: 6k

Summary: It is late at night of the weekend Travis sought sanctuary at the SCP Foundation, but he is still anxious to go to sleep. It’s everyone’s favorite SCP, 999, to the rescue. Takes place in its own timeline at the Foundation, in an AU. This is a tickle fic, obviously. X3

TW: Mentions of past abuse.

Travis Blanche belongs to me!

Agent Simon Fisher belongs to my best friend who has allowed me to use their OC for this story. :3

A/N: Apologies if there’s any errors with the French words that are written throughout this story. Although I do not speak French (kinda wish I did) I did my absolute best translating some words and phrases so forgive me if they’re not all correct.

A rather eventful week had occurred for Dr. Travis Blanche and the batch of anomalous kids he had saved. In actuality, the last six months have been nothing but eventful, but not as much as the previous week that took place. So much had happened in the span of one week; teaming up with the SCP Foundation—a place he was told and believed was the enemy—to rescue a group of anomalous children he once took care of who were being physically altered and bid to be used as living weapons.

Despite the many setbacks and near casualties, in the end, Travis and the Foundation had successfully managed to rescue the kids and shut down the evil Foundation for good. Everyone who was a part of that operation were already taken into custody and being dealt with, courtesy of the Foundation. It seemed everything was going to be okay finally, but unfortunately, that wasn’t the case for someone in particular.

That night, one of the MTF squadron captains, Captain Simon Fisher, had been casually strolling down the hallways in the middle of his evening patrol, when he noticed light coming from one of the lounge rooms up ahead. That’s odd, he thought. Who could be up at this late hour?

Curious, he cautiously peeked inside the doorway and his eyes widened when he saw their newest Foundation member, Travis, was the one awake. He was sitting alone at the lounge table, listening to his Walkman, and clutching a mug of steaming tea with an exhausted and nervous look on his face.

How long has he been up like this? Simon wondered. Is he not happy to be here after everything that happened? He hoped not. After all the crazy things that everyone had been through, the SCP Foundation had graciously offered a permanent sanctuary for Travis and the children he helped save. Although Travis was skeptical about having the kids stay in containment chambers as SCPs, everyone assured him that the kids would all be treated with care, given proper housing and food, and would no way ever be abused like they were before. They even offered Travis a dorm room to stay in at the Foundation site so he could still be close to the kids and see them whenever he pleased.

That seemed to calm his overprotective nerves, but the young scientist still had trouble fully relaxing. It was obvious he was still traumatized after everything they went through. Despite being safe at the Foundation, Travis couldn’t put his overthinking mind to rest. What if the evil Foundation wasn’t defeated entirely? What if they still had another secret base somewhere that they didn’t know about? What if they had more anomalous children hidden underground? What if they would eventually find out where he was?!

Travis clutched his mug tighter, shaking his head. He just couldn’t shake off the fear. He knew from his previous time with these people that they had such volatility. He often compared them to the Galactic Empire from Star Wars; that evil foundation was able to bounce back from scratch like the second Death Star being built. He worried for himself, the kids especially. He would never want to break his promise and put them in any sort of danger again.

In an attempt to calm his anxious mind, Travis tried making himself some maple tea while listening to his Walkman. It was usually a good remedy whenever he couldn’t sleep, except tonight it didn’t seem to be working. He kept taking sips of the hot liquid, but couldn’t taste a thing. His mind just could not stop racing.

Agent Fisher could not bear to watch the poor scientist like this. It was so heartbreaking to witness. Travis deserved a break, just like those kids deserved a proper home and childhood. But even here, in the safety of the SCP Foundation site, he was still scared. And the officer couldn’t blame him. The poor guy probably thought the evil foundation was going to jump through the walls at any moment and harm him. After suffering in that cruel environment for so long, who wouldn’t still be scarred?

But at the same time, everyone hoped that Travis could learn to relax a little at the site now that he was safe. The kids has already settled in their new rooms just fine, happy to call the SCP Foundation their new home. If only Travis felt like doing the same same…

Not wanting the poor sleep deprived scientist to suffer any longer, Simon walked into the lounge room and waved to get Blanche’s attention. Travis jumped, startled, but his body relaxed when he saw a familiar face. Pulling off his headphones, Travis forced a smile on his face. “Oh, good evening, Captain Fisher, sir.”

“Hm, good morning is more like it,” Simon stated back, gesturing to the clock on the wall. “It’s 3:30 in the morning. Why are you still up?”

“Why are you up?” Travis countered back.

Simon quirked a brow. “Because I’m in the middle of my night shift,” he replied as-a-matter-of-factly. “But seriously, is something wrong, Dr. Blanche? I thought you had retired to bed along with the kids hours ago.”

Travis weakly chuckled. “First of all, no need to address me as Doctor all the time. Just Travis is fine.” Simon nodded understandingly. “Second,” Travis shrugged with a sigh. “Can’t sleep, I guess. I…guess I am still shaken up after everything that happened recently. I still have nightmares; nightmares of…them. Of what they d-did to me…to the kids..!” He heaved a shaky sigh. “I don’t know, I just—can’t seem to erase that from my mind. A part of me is still afraid that they’re still out there, waiting to come after m-me and the kids..!”

Travis quickly turned his head away as tears were threatening to spill from his eyes. He cursed himself for getting so emotional so quickly. He hated crying in front of others. But Simon didn’t mind. He rested a delicate hand on the scientist’s shoulder, squeezing affectionately. Travis turned around, meeting Agent Fisher’s warm eyes.

His smile was comforting and his voice was gentle. “Hey, I get what you’re going through. I really do. None of us here are expecting you, nor the kids, to get over what happened to you all so quickly. That’s traumatizing, and that’s not something you can simply get over overnight.” He squeezed Blanche’s shoulder once more. “But, know this: you do not have to carry this burden alone like you did before. You’re safe here, and you know we would never let anything happen to you guys. You’ve got to believe that.”

Travis nodded softly. “I know. I know you all mean well, and I am so very grateful for you all to let us stay here…even after everything before…”

“Hey, what’s past is past, kid. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

“Thank you. I…just wish I could stop having these nightmares. These people are defeated and yet it still seems like they torment me.” Travis groaned and rested his head against the table. “That’s why I’ve been listening to my music and drinking some maple tea. It’s usually a good remedy when I have trouble getting to sleep, but tonight it’s not as effective.” He sighed miserably. “I suppose I just won’t sleep tonight. But that’s alright…I’m sure I can busy myself for the remainder of the night by working on one of my unfinished projects. Maybe that will tire me out.”

Simon couldn’t believe what he just heard. Travis was really willing to work himself to exhaustion because of his nightmares? He pitied for the poor scientist. But what else could he do? His words didn’t seem to help.

And then suddenly, it clicked. “SCP-999!” He suddenly blurted his thought out loud.

“Huh?” Travis tilted his head.

Simon cleared his throat. “I meant to ask this earlier, but…have you had the chance to interact with SCP-999 yet? Or at least read its file?”

“Actually, no. I assumed since I am new here, I don't get to read any of the files you have for these SCPs like library books."

The agent chuckled. “Yes, well, there’s certain files that are classified for good reasons. But there’s files that newbies like you can read, like SCP-999’s file, for example.” He paused. “Funnily enough, the kids got to interact with 999 the other day and they loved it! They even requested another session with 999 as soon as possible,” he added, as if he thought that would convince Dr. Blanche.

Travis’ heterochromatic eyes lit up, intrigued. “Oh, really now? I’m assuming it’s a safe anomaly then?”

Simon nodded. “Oh, of course. One of the safest and harmless anomalies on this site. In fact, 999 is more than just a safe class anomaly. It’s actually therapeutic; simply touching 999 can bring immediate euphoria that intensifies the longer you are exposed to it. Heck, the euphoria lasts long after separation from the anomaly. Everyone here, myself included, has had at least one encounter with SCP-999, and it’s helped us all greatly when we were struggling mentally. I really think you would benefit from one visit with 999.”

Travis seemed hesitant and unsure. “Uhh…well…I-I’m not sure.”

Simon gave him an encouraging smile. “C’mon Travis. I really think this would do you good. SCP-999 loves all people, but has a special interest in those who are hurt, depressed, or suffering from PTSD. It’s no wonder why it wanted to interact with the kiddos immediately when they arrived here. And I know it will want to interact with you, too. Let 999 help you, Travis…Just this once? If you like it, you like it. And if you don’t, that’s okay, too. Although I find it damn impossible that anyone would be able to say they disliked their encounter with 999.” He chuckled again. “What do ya say?”

Travis gave in with a sigh. “Oh, all right. Just hurry up before I change my mind.” Simon nodded, taking Blanche by the hand and leading him out into the hallway.

A therapeutic anomaly that seems to cure depression and trauma? Well, I’m not at the evil foundation anymore, Travis joked to himself. If the kids enjoyed their encounter with this SCP-999 then maybe I will, too? Fisher would never lie to me. Could this anomaly really help me with my nightmares and PTSD? I guess we’ll see. *sigh* Whatever, just get this over with quickly. What’s the worst that can happen?

“Here we are.” Simon’s voice abruptly snapped Travis out of his thoughts. They had arrived at SCP-999’s containment chamber. While the agent stepped aside to quietly have a word with the security officers and another researcher over comm. link, (no doubt requesting permission to allow him to see 999 at this hour) Travis suddenly grew nervous.

Despite being told that 999 was a safe class anomaly, the thought of meeting an entirely new anomaly that he knew nothing about was enough to make him anxious. Normally, he liked to know at least a little bit of background of an anomaly before he charged headfirst into interacting with it. Now he was really starting to regret not taking the time to read more on 999’s file before coming here. But he had nothing to worry about, right? If the kids said that they had fun with this creature, then he would trust their judgement.

He was snapped out of his thoughts again when Simon handed him a top tab office folder. “What’s this?”

Simon smiled apologetically. “The entire information file for SCP-999. I should have given this to you first so you could read it over. But you can still read it when you’re inside 999’s chambers. Y’know, learn along the way.” He winked, smiling.

Travis blinked. He could have sworn he detected something sinister in Fisher’s tone when he said that. Like he knew something that he didn’t yet. Did he set him up?

“Well, go ahead,” Simon urged. “Go cure that trauma. We’ll be right outside monitoring everything in case you need us, but you’ll be fine.” He and the other security guards seemed to be stifling back laughs. Travis frowned. They were definitely setting him up for something. Why couldn’t they just tell him what it was already? After spending so much time at the previous evil foundation, he grew to hate surprises. Even good ones because in the end, they never turned out to be good.

As Travis stepped through the doorway, Simon quickly added, “Oh, and don’t forget to read that file! Better read it quick!”

Travis shot him an incredulous look, but opened the file nonetheless. Alright let’s see…Item #: SCP-999. Object Class: Safe…Special Containment Procedures…yada yada…File Name…wait WHAT?! The Canadian scientist’s heart skipped several beats. File Name: The Tickle Monster.

He quickly spun around, locking eyes with Agent Fisher, who merely just waved with a smile that said “sorry not sorry” before shutting the door.

This was a setup! He had been duped! Bamboozled! “Fisher!” Travis growled, banging on the door. “You set me up! You…You mother-honking HOSER!”

Okay, okay. Don’t freak out. This…This has gotta be some kind of blizzard joke, right?

Travis didn’t know why, but something about reading that file name quickened his pulse and made anticipatory butterflies fill his belly. Something he hadn’t felt in such a long time. He was flustered.

His train of thought was interrupted when the sound of high-pitched gurgling sounded behind him. He whipped around, his blue and green eyes widening at what was in front of him: a large, gelatinous blob of orange slime with big black orbs for eyes that seemed to shimmer like puppy eyes. Travis didn’t know what to think. This was supposed to be the site’s so-called “Tickle Monster”? It certainly didn’t look like anything he had pictured. But he knew from experience that looks can be deceiving; something so innocent-looking could be extremely dangerous.

“Um…h-hello there,” Travis shyly waved to the anomaly. The creature happily chirped, and slithered towards the young scientist. Travis gasped and backed away until his back hit the wall. SCP-999 emitted a confused gurgle and stopped in its tracks. It suddenly seemed concerned from Travis’ reaction.

Taken back, Travis tilted his head and was surprised when the orange creature mimicked his movement. Curious, he tilted his head to the other side, and it copied his movement. Travis blinked twice, and 999 also blinked twice. Feeling a little more relaxed, Travis knelt down to its eye level. “Huh. Well, you’re quite the precocious little anomaly, aren’t you?” 999 let out a happy coo. “You know, I’ve never encountered an anomaly like you before. I was actually told by Agent Fisher that you could help me with my recent nightmares and PTSD?” 999 perked up, bobbing its gelatinous dome head up and down like jello. “I take that as a yes then? So—oh?”

999 slithered closer to the scientist, extending a pair of orange pseudopods and wrapping them around his neck. Emitting cooing and purring noises, the anomaly leaned close to nuzzle against the young man’s chest. Immediately, Travis was hit with a wave of mild euphoria, just like Fisher had said. But that was not all. Travis also detected something on 999’s gelatinous surface; there was a pleasant odor. It smelled like…fresh pine trees from the forests of his hometown in Canada. Along with the scent of freshly baked chocolate cake from Tim Horton’s, his favorite dessert.

Travis felt like crying, but they were happy tears. All this comfort and nostalgic scents this anomaly was giving him was unlike anything he ever felt before. He let out a shaky sigh, allowing his body to fully relax and melt against the warm embrace. 999 simply took that as its cue to continue nuzzling Travis like a kitten, all the while continuing to purr and coo lovingly.

It wasn’t until he felt 999’s orange tendrils suddenly tighten around his torso that he started to feel nervous. “Sacré bleu!” He exclaimed. “I uh, heh, almost forgot the other thing that makes you so infamous here…Now I’m starting to see why Agent Fisher set me up with this little…play date,” he muttered that last part under his breath.

999 simply chirped and glomped the scientist, ready to engage in one of its favorite activities it was best known for: tickle wrestling. Travis, already anticipating the oncoming attack, let anticipatory fear get the best of him and managed to wriggle out of the creature’s near death grip. Giggling breathily, he stood up on shaky knees to try and escape. Except there was nowhere else to go. He was trapped in a containment chamber with a very playful anomaly that look like it wanted to tickle the ever living daylights out of him.

With a wobbly smile already visible on his face, Travis shakily tried to make a run for it. 999 excitedly chirped, thinking Travis wanted to play chase! It gurgled enthusiastically, beginning to chase after the flustered scientist who, in return, bolted away.

Outside the containment chamber, Agent Fisher and the other security officers were laughing at the cartoon spectacle from their security tablets: Dr. Blanche running laps around the room while SCP-999 followed close behind, trying to grab him with his pseudopods.

“Oh mon dieu! Mon dieu! N-No! Don’t! Don’t you dare!” Travis exclaimed behind him. He heard the creature emit a series of chirps, but he could’ve sworn it sounded like it was taunting him; laughing at him.

He suddenly heard Simon‘s voice from the overhead speakers. “C’mon, Blanche! We brought you here to interact with 999, not to run away from it!”

“Firstly, you never said anything about this anomaly being a Tickle Monster!” Travis shot back as he did another lap around the room. “And second! I am not letting said monster…well…tickle me..!”

“And why not? You wouldn’t happen to be…ticklish, would you~?”

The blush on Travis’s face said it all, yet he still denied it. “N-No..! I’m not!”

“Then quit trying to escape if you’re not ticklish.”

Ohhh how Travis so desperately wanted to make Agent Fisher eat those words. He knew he couldn’t keep running in circles forever; he was already sleep deprived and was losing strength in his knees. Cursed his flustered state. It’s not that he didn’t want to be tickled, he didn’t know if he was ticklish in the first place. Up to this point in his life, he couldn’t recall a time where he had ever been tickled. And now, getting a chance to experience it for the first time, he was trying to avoid it. But yet at the same time, he secretly wanted it to happen. He wanted to experience that silly, uncontrollable feeling that he recalled reading about during his early days of becoming a doctor. Unfortunately, his fight-or-flight instincts got the best of him.

He didn’t have time to debate it any further because he yelped in surprise when something suddenly wrapped around his ankle, tripping him. Whipping his head around, he saw 999 had one orange tendril wrapped around his ankle like a lasso. It chirped and tittered as if to say, “got you!”, and proceeded to envelope its victim’s boot and calf into its gelatinous body.

Travis yelped again in alarm at the feeling of feeling his lower leg being swallowed by this orange slime anomaly. He grimaced. This creature wasn’t seriously planning on eating him instead, was it? His question was immediately answered when his knee was engulfed in the slime trap next. Instead of feeling a row of hidden razor, sharp teeth tear into his flesh, he felt something entirely different; as soon as the orange slime touched his knee, Travis felt a fluttery almost feather-like feeling, followed by a growing bubbling sensation in the pit of his stomach. The urge to laugh.

Qu’est-ce que c’est?! Is this really what being tickled feels like?

Reflexively, Travis began kicking out his trapped leg, trying to free it. Except he couldn’t. He was taken back at how strong 999’s grip was. No matter how much he twisted and yanked and pulled on his leg, he couldn’t break free. 999 simply cooed a response, no doubt teasing about how he wasn’t going anywhere.

Kicking his way out wasn’t going to work. In fact, it only seemed to make the situation worse because the fluttery feeling around his knee simply increased. It spread behind his knee and even squeezed around his knee joint, making him reflexively kick out his other leg that was free. He was worried at first if all his uncontrollable kicking would hurt the anomaly; he didn’t want to accidentally kick 999 in its eye or mouth and hurt it. Fortunately, his kicks didn’t seem to harm the anomaly in any way. Its orange slimy surface seemed to absorb any blows it received, seeming to be indestructible.

Travis stubbornly clapped a hand over his mouth, refusing to crack. Blush was already starting to reach the tips of his ears. Could this get any worse?

Apparently, it could.

999 right away noticed the stubborn scientist trying to muffle his laughs as well as his fruitless attempts at trying to escape on his one free leg. So it simply caught his other flailing leg in its slime, swallowing it, too. It wasted no time and began tickling behind and around the scientist’s knees.

Travis couldn’t hold it back any longer. Having his other leg held into place and subjected to the same tickly feeling behind his knee ultimately made him crack.

“Kkthpbblt..! …MmHHHmhmhEEAAAhehahaha! W-Wahahait! Nohohoho!”

“Well, that certainly didn’t take as long as I thought,” Simon’s voice cut in over the speakers again. “I thought it would take longer for you to crack around SCP-999, but it looks like it doesn’t take more than a minute. Good to know!”

“Ohoho shuhuhut uhuhuhup!” Travis pressed through giggles. He hated to admit it, but he was really hoping he would be able to outlast 999’s playful attack. This just proved he really was a super ticklish person. He just hoped the kids would never find out about this…

999, pleased that its victims was finally laughing, decided to continue and increase the ticklish feeling. Still keeping the scientist’s legs in place, it suddenly leapt on top of him, tickling all over his torso with its tendrils.

Travis let out a rather girly shriek as he felt a weight suddenly on top of him. But that quickly switched to loud, bright laughter when he felt his entire torso being scribbled and poked erratically. There were tendrils squeezing and poking his sides, vibrating against his rib cage, tracing across his stomach, and even trying to slip under his arms. And all the while, his lab coat and purple dress shirt did nothing to protect his sensitive skin.

“WaHAAAHAHAIT! AAAH! HehehAAAHAHAHA! N-Nohoho! AAAAH! EEEHEHEHEEHEE! S-StAAAHAHAHAP! WHAAAA! Mon dieu! OH MON DIEU! OH MON DIEU! D-Don’t you dahahahare!”

Travis frantically batted at 999’s dome head as he felt sneaky tendrils trying to untuck and unbutton his purple dress shirt. Ignoring his panicked request, 999 swiftly yanked up his shirt, undid the buttons, and pushed the fabric aside to expose the pale belly underneath.

999 immediately buried its face against the warm surface, nuzzling and nipping and extending two more tendrils to furiously dig under the doctor’s arms.

“NonononAAAAAAHAHAHAHAO!! ARRÊTER! ARRÊTER! A-ARRÊHEEHEEHEETER!! NAAAAHEEEEHEEHEEHEE!! NAHAHAHAO PLEAHEEHEEHEEHEEHEASE!!”

Travis screeched and squealed, trying to twist away from this evil tickle attack but it was no use. 999’s grip was like a boa constrictor’s. And it made sure he couldn’t escape because any attempt he made, resulted in the creature mercilessly tickling another bad spot he didn’t know about.

The tickly nibbles on his belly made him want to reflexively curl and protect that spot, but the second he tried to curl inward or on his side, 999 immediately dug and vibrated against his spine, forcing him to uncurl once again.

“EEEEHEEHEHEEEEEK!! STAAAAHEEHEEHEE!! S’il vous plaît! StAAHAhap doihihing thahahat!” Travis giggle-whined as 999 made him uncurl again. “Thahahat’s soho nohohot fahahahair!”

999 simply tittered at his response, clearly enjoying the playful suffering it was putting the young scientist through. But it wanted to hear more of his sweet, childlike laughter.

So it inched its face higher so it could bury its face against his neck. Travis let out another high-pitched squeal when the side of his neck was attacked with tickly nibbles. Even 999 simply purring against his neck tickled just as bad.

“EEEEEEHEEHEEHEEEEEK!! NAAAAHEEHEHEEHEE!! NOHOHO PLEAHEHEEHEEHEASE!!”

He tried scrunching up his shoulder to protect his sensitive neck, but that in turn made 999 nibble at the other side of his neck.

Travis gave up trying to protect his neck, settling for trying to guard his torso and underarms instead. The scientist tried to clamp his arms down while attempting to button his shirt back up. Or at least try to get it to cover his stomach once more.

But 999 noticed his attempts, and released his neck, diving back to tickle his belly again.

“Wait! WAHAHAHAIT! NON! NOHOHON! NAHAHAT AGAAAHAHAHAIN! S’il vous plaît! S’IL VOUS PLAÎT! Go bAHAHACK to my neheheheck again!”

But 999 didn’t listen. It came to the conclusion that this was clearly a bad spot for Travis, and that just encouraged it to stay here!

The poor flustered doctor frantically batted at 999’s head like an angry kitten, trying to get it anywhere else but his stomach. This couldn’t possibly get any worse, could it?

One sneaky stray tendril brushing over his navel did it. Travis screeched and accidentally sucked in a breath too quick, he snorted. Even 999 paused its tickly assault to gurgle curiously and tilt its head like a confused puppy.

Blush consumed Travis’ entire face as he hid behind his hands, clearly embarrassed at the weird sound he just emitted. He never even knew could make such silly sounds like that.

Intrigued, 999 lightly brushed over the scientist’s bellybutton. Travis jolted like he had been electrocuted, emitting another muffled snort behind his hands. He frantically shook his head and babbled incoherently as he felt 999’s tendrils peel his hands away from his face, pinning them up next to his head.

“Nonononononono! Oh mon dieu! Oh mon dieu! N-No! Don’t..! Don’t you dare! Don’t! You! Dare!”

999 cheekily tittered, bringing the single tendril back to softly trace circles around his tummy, slowly inching towards his bellybutton.

“Oh MON DIEU! NahaHAHAHAO!” Travis panicked as the tendril traced agonizing circles around the little spot, his tummy quivering madly. His stomach was tingling with so much anticipation; it felt like he just ate a swarm of live butterflies.

Travis tried curling up on his side and sucking in his stomach as much as he could to avoid that evil tendril, but his efforts were useless. 999 simply grabbed onto his hips, and straightened him back onto his back.

“Waitwaitwaitwaitwait! Je t’en prie! NO! D-Don’t..!” Travis screamed like if he was being murdered before laughing his hardest as 999’s tendril plunged into his bellybutton and wiggled rapidly. “AAAAAAAHEHEHAAAAAAHAHAAAA!! OH MOHOHON DIEU!! *snort* NAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAAAAAO!! STAAAAAA—*snort*—HAHAHAHAHAAAAAP!! NAAAHEEHEEHEEHEEAAAHAHAHA!!”

Ohhh how Travis hated all the involuntary snorts he kept emitting between hysterics. He wished he could stop, but these accursed snorts were like a dam; once broken, there’s no stopping it. The poor doctor’s entire face was the color of a cherry tomato. His glasses were askew on his face from how much he was whipping his head from side to side. Tears were already threatening to spill from his tightly shut eyes. He was sure his sides were going to split any moment. But yet, despite all that, Travis was actually having fun. He was enjoying it.

He never recalled a time before this when he had genuinely laughed so hard. Well, maybe except that one time where he encountered his first cryptid, but did that really count? It was too short and too quick to even count it as a true experience. Here, being at the playful mercy of SCP-999, it felt different. Intense euphoria rushed through his entire body like adrenaline. In that moment, he couldn’t think of anything else but the ticklish torment. No fear, no nightmares, no trauma, no memories of his dark past, no sadness. Just pure joy. And, of course, the unbearable tickly assault on his navel. So embarrassing…

999 was very pleased that it was able to make Dr. Blanche make that funny, adorable snorting sound. It made him sound like a little piggy! Which 999 just couldn’t seem to get enough of. But it knew it had to stop soon. So, to finish it off, 999 engulfed Travis’ entire torso in its slime, vigorously vibrating its surface; the equivalent of giving multiple big raspberries.

Travis just about died. To him, his entire torso was being assaulted from all angles by these evil raspberries. His sides, his ribs, just right below his underarms, his upper and lower stomach, his waistline, and his bellybutton all at once.

His laughter went silent for a moment before he snorted rather loudly, and laughed his absolute hardest. “…AAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHEEHEHAHAHAAAAAA!! NAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!! *snort* NOHOHON!! NOHON S’IHIHIL VOUS PLAAAAA—HAHAHA—PLAIT!! *snort* STAAAAAAHAHAHAAAA!! *snort* NINE NIHIHINE NIIIIIHIHINE!! PLEEEEEAAHEEHEE—*snort* JE T’EN PRIE—HEEHEEHEEHEEEEEE!! I-I CAHAHAHAN’T TAHAHAKE IHIHIHIT ANYMORE!! *snort* JE T’EN PRIE!! JE T-TAAAAAAHAHAHAHA!! JE T’EN PRIE!! *snort* PLEAHEEHEEHEEHEEHEASE!! STAAAAAHAHAHAHAP!! NOHOHO MOHOHOHORE!!”

Hearing the desperate cry and feeling Ike he had had enough, 999 finally released Dr. Blanche. It sat next to him, quietly gurgling while waiting patiently for Travis to recover. Travis laid there motionless on the floor for several long minutes, panting heavily. His hair was a mess and his glasses were crooked on his forehead. He just wanted to get the air back into his lungs. 999 nudged and softly cooed at the scientist. It seemed like it wanted to check and see if he was okay.

Travis slowly sat up, clutching his sore stomach. He fixed his glasses before meeting 999’s concerned gaze, giving it a warm smile. “Hey, don’t feel bad. You stopped right when I needed you to. It’s all good, okay? I actually feel a lot more better now thanks to you, 999.” 999 chirped happily, glomping the doctor in another tackle hug.

“Aaah! Sacré bleu! Non! Don’t go starting this whole little chaotic game of yours again!” Travis nervously joked. As fun as that whole tickle game was, he didn’t want to be the victim of another one again. At least, not right now.

999 tittered and slid down to cuddle in the scientist’s lap, purring like a cat. Travis chuckled and began buttoning his now wrinkled shirt back up. When that was done, he rested a delicate hand on top of 999’s head, who purred louder. Then, just to be cheeky once more, 999 tittered like a gremlin and shoved its head underneath the purple shirt. Travis let out a surprise squeal at the feeling of a purring mouth pressing threateningly against his bellybutton again. “N-NAAAhahao! Pleaheeheehease nohohot again! Misericorde! Misericorde!”

Fortunately, 999 took pity on the poor tired scientist and slithered out of his shirt. Travis let out a huge sigh of relief. He had to admit, despite being tickle tortured for what felt like an eternity, he was feeling a lot happier than he had ever been in a long time. It felt like the biggest weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and he could breathe again. His mind didn’t feel so foggy with nightmares or visions of his past anymore. In fact, he couldn’t even recall his nightmares or any other negative thoughts. He felt genuine euphoria and this mild feeling of optimism; that same optimism that any happy kid would have, like he was sure everything was going to be okay from now on.

“Thank you, 999,” Travis whispered to the anomaly. “I mean it. You really helped me with something I never thought I would be able to let go. Thank you for that.” 999 beamed and happily gurgled as if to say “you’re welcome”.

After all that laughing and screeching and squirming, and being sleep deprived, Travis’ remaining strength and energy had been sapped up. He couldn’t stifle back the big yawns. He longed for the comfort of his bed, but was far too tired to even get up. Even his eyelids were starting to droop.

999 noticed how visibly exhausted the scientist looked so it carefully lifted and cradled him, carrying him to the door.

“Annnd that’s our cue that Dr. Blanche’s ‘play date’ with 999 has finally ended,” Simon stated, nodding to the personnel to fetch their sleepy victim.

“Okay, 999, hand him over. We’ll take it from here,” one of the guards spoke.

999 emitted a little whine and hugged Travis closer. Simon chuckled, knowing that reaction far too well. “Don’t worry, 999. You’ll get your chance to play with Blanche again another time, okay? Right now, he really needs to get some sleep.” 999 cooed understandingly and released the doctor.

Simon helped Travis stand up, and assisted him back to his dorm room. He had to bite back another laugh because he honestly felt like he was lugging a drunk friend back home. “So…didn’t I tell you this would be a great experience? Learn on the job, eh?” Simon joked.

Travis rolled his eyes, blush coating his cheeks again. “Oh, shut up, ya hoser! You’re a filthy, lying…dip twit!” He tried to sound mean, but the smile on his face proved otherwise.

“Aw, c’mooon! No ‘thank you, Fisher, for making me experience my first meeting with the Tickle Monster?’”

Travis sputtered and blushed harder. “Stohohop saying that!”

Simon couldn’t help but tease. “Why? Is it the Tickle Mosnter part that gets you flustered or just hearing the word tickle?”

Travis giggle-whined, burying his face against the older agent’s shoulder. “Staaaaahahahap! Just…stohohop sahahaying thaaaat!”

“Haha! I knew it!” Simon laughed. “It does fluster you! You just seem too adorable to be a researcher here.” He ruffled the younger scientist’s hair.

Travis giggled and batted at the other’s hand before muttering something in French that sounded like cuss words.

“Hey, hey, hey, watch the language,” Simon half-joked. “Or else I’ll throw you back into 999’s chambers and keep you there until tomorrow.” He poked him in the side. “Got that?”

Travis yelped and giggled once more. “Understood.”

“Good. Alright, well get some sleep, okay? We’ll be here for you tomorrow when you wake up, but no rush in getting up early. Sleep in if you’d like. You and the kids are going to need to fix that awful sleep schedule of yours, and it starts with getting proper rest.” Simon smiled and gave Blanche one last hair ruffle. “Sleep tight, kid.”

Travis sleepily smiled. “Thank you, sir. Good night to you as well. And…thank you…for everything. I never would have gotten through this without you and 999’s help.” He paused with a shy smile. “Especially 999’s.”

“Anytime, kid. Good night.”

“Good night.” Travis let out a happy sigh as soon as he closed his dorm door. “Wow…what a night!” He said to himself. “But at least I don’t have to worry about any nightmares anymore. Hopefully. And if not, then I’m sure I can go to 999 again…right? Oh mon dieu, whyyyy am I actually thinking about going back and willingly allowing 999 to…torture me again?! Geez! Now I’m getting all fluttery thinking about it!”

That fluttery butterfly feeling in his stomach came back at the mere thought of getting tickled by 999 again. He blushed when he remembered how Simon set him up with 999 earlier. Then his blush darkened when he realized that Simon and the other guards now knew of his silly weakness from watching him on the security footage. And all of the embarrassing sounds he could make when tickled in certain spots. Ohhh so embarrassing!

Travis just hoped that Simon and the others would keep their mouths shut and not mention this to anyone, especially to the kids. They didn’t need to know about this. If anyone found out, he would never live it down.

Shaking the thought off, Travis changed out of his work clothes. He slipped on a baggy black shirt that read: Area 51 Escapee in bright green lettering, and a pair of light gray pajama pants with UFOs on them. Then, he tossed his worn clothes into a heap by his bed before crawling into bed. He snuggled under the covers with a happy sigh.

Things were definitely going to be different from now on with him and the kids now joining the SCP Foundation family. But they were in a better place now, and they were free. They could finally be happy and together like the found family they always wanted to be. Granted, they were a very strange, albeit dangerous-looking family, but they were a family regardless.

Travis closed his eyes with a smile, dreaming about what games he was going to play with the kids tomorrow as soon as they all woke up.

THE END



[sol-consort]

your roommate posts are so fun i was wondering what your take on like first few humans on the Citadel(say the year they got an embassy) and the impressions they left as roommatesXD

I'm glad you find them fun!

It's hard to say, the first humans on the Citadel must have been diplomats and political figures important enough to warrant having bodyguards. Getting their own housing and such.

I'd imagine no roommate situation allowed for humans yet, especially if a turian was already residing there. The first contact war made the human's notoriety spread far and wide, infamous for our "bloodthirst" and "aggressive cunning nature"

Skip a couple of years as the humans integrated into C-sec forces and we still held the bully reputation.

Sure, the other alien's views on use softened, but no one was going out of their way to befriend a human yet.

Especially, turians.

We picked on the golden goose of species, on the favourite child of the Citadel. When turians make up for more than 70% of all policeforce, it's easy to see why humans get misinterpreted as troublemakers by virtue.

Even the ones who admired humans did so in reverence to the alliance great feat of holding the line against the turian forces for three whole months. We were brand new, a newborn galactic species that just discovered mass relays, and the turians had all the advantages imaginable, yet it was them who suffered the greater mortality losses.

So both the good and bad rumours painted us in a very unkind yet strong picture.

Who would want someone like that to bunk near them? "What if the human sees me as weak? what if they pick on me? what if—" all very common doubts.

The Normandy by itself was deliberately a joint effort by the human alliance and turian hierarchy to mend relationships between the two species.

And yet, not a single turian was found aboard. At least not until Shepard recruited one. (Nihlus was a spectre, not a recruit. He was here for his own business)

Not out of malice for turians, but the first contact war memories were still fresh in Captian's Anderson mind, no doubt. All the friends he lost, all the horror he witnessed.

It would've taken years for aliens to start comfortably co-living with humans. If you couldn't afford to get your own place on the Citadel, your next step would be looking into human roommates because no other species would let you in.

But on other planets? Spaceships? It would've been a faster intergeneration.

A salarian who came to Earth to further his research only to realise how expensive everything is, deciding to look into shared housing, there were no other options besides a human. After a couple of weeks, he comes to the conclusion that you're not the vicious killer that your species's reputation makes you out to be...in fact, you're quite fun to be around.

A turian crew who were hired as security by a shipping company would eventually get used to the many humans on board, especially when the humans start inviting them to drinking games, poker night and to watch movies. They start appreciation the unique spirit humans have, one which they infected them with. becoming patients zeros to the "turian human are natural best friends" epidemic.

An asari scientist who was hired to terraform a new planet for human living, alongside the other human scientists. Working together and living in such close proximity in aluminium camps. She's wary of humans at first, doing her job then retreating to her own room. But the lack of communication really halts the progress of the mission, so she gives the humans a chance and starts attending their meetings, late night lab sessions...and it's way more casual than she expected. The atmosphere is light. It's just a bunch of scientists joking around whilst still getting work done.

-

Humans weren't the only ones with a bad reputation; qaurians and krogans shared our blight. When a human, a krogan and a qaurian walk into a bar, getting wasted drunk and complaining loudly about how they can't find a single shared housing plan because their snobby roommates keep rejecting them—only to spot each other across the bar and a figurative lightbulb lights up above their heads.

Renting an apartment together!

Yeah, the first to trust humans enough to become roommates with them weren't the "ever so righteous and benevolent" asari, or the "community service principled" turians, it wasn't even the "logic and rationality above else" salarians.

It was a quarian on her pilgrim, who spent all her money getting to the Citadel only to be faced with discrimination and blame for the geth situation.

It was a heartbroken krogan whose asari gf of 50 years just left him because her friends pressured her to. Only to end up realising how bad of an idea it was to keep the lease under her name.

Finding an offer online by a human who's looking for roommates, you already have an apartment—but the asari landlord raised the rent yet again, and working two jobs isn't cutting it—so you made a couple of posts online in roommate sites, yet all the offers you were given immediately pulled back once they realised you're a human.

Your post was like a beacon in the dark for them, they haven't even met a human before, but what's life without risk?

[leggerefiore]

cw: April Fools drabble

pairing: Cyrus/Reader

Galactic HQ was easier to get into than you would have liked to admit.

Granted, Cyrus probably did not really have the idea of anyone intruding on his mind. You were not really sure what he had on his mind lately, truthfully.

The blue wig on your head sat carefully positioned, as the odd space age uniform was surprisingly light. The inside of the building was not completely unknown to you, but it had been a while since you had visited here. You had not exactly been here in your current situation either. Disguising yourself as a Galactic Grunt had not exactly been on your mind this morning. It had suddenly stricken you in a moment of boredom upon realising the day. You could only wonder how far you would make it around here before getting caught, though.

It was easy to find what tasks were most needed and quickly blend into doing them. Two of the commanders even passed you by without noticing a thing. Though, hearing Mars gushing about your boyfriend was admittedly not a preferred thing. You sighed as you helped move some boxes around for scientists. Just what was all this? You thought Galactic was a power company. Cyrus probably had other projects at work, but everything seemed oddly… biological. The green fluid within a tube sent your imagination into a spiral.

A single step snapped your attention from it. Cyrus had entered the hall. His gaze was on you for but a moment, as he turned his attention to scientists speaking in hushed voices further away. He certainly carried a different air here than what you were used to seeing. Your disguise must have been a lot better than you thought, seeing as he did not even hold a lingering suspicious glance at you. His stride was careful while clearing the hall, yet he stopped to spare you another glance.

“Leave,” his voice was harsh and cold. It felt completely than what you normally heard. For a moment, you wondered if he had figured you out and was upset. “Your task here is done. See your commander for a new one,” he continued. You felt odd as you turned to him. Something gave you both a pause as your eyes met his. He blinked. You gave a wordless nod to begin to leave this area. Cyrus seemed wholly unsatisfied by your conduct, however. “I would prefer a vocal confirmation,” he sighed, “… What is your name?”

You froze. Speaking would entirely blow your cover. Sure, it was just to mess around, but something inside of you wanted to take it seriously. If you fled, his suspicions would only be heightened. Standing motionless, you could only wonder what reply might work. Cyrus grew ever more impatient. “You are only worsening this for yourself,” he offered. “Who is your direct commander, at least, then.”

You bit your lip. Was he not in any rush? This was more intense than it truly should be. You shared a bed with this man. He did not usually intimidate you. A few seconds of silence passed. Just as he was about to speak again, a pokemon's cry echoed out in the hall, startling you both. From the side Cyrus had come from, a familiar black and red pokemon came running forward. Weavile let out a happy trill upon seeing its trainer. Its head bunted his leg as a loud purr came from it. Cyrus seemed to have a break in his disposition for a moment. You fought back a laugh. Did he not pet the poor feline at work? No wonder they always demanded your whole attention.

Weavile's red eyes landed on you as a cry came from it again. It tilted its head. You felt your heart jump. Shit. Your cover really would be blown. Cyrus was even intrigued by its reaction. Weavile moved on from its trainer to bunting your leg and purring. A sigh left you. Reaching a hand down to pet the pokemon, contented mrr's left it. The Galactic Boss took a step back, clearly startled.

“What are you doing here?” his voice took on a familiar cadence. It appeared you had been finally figured out. “… Why are you wearing that?”

You picked up Weavile and shrugged. “April Fools. I wanted to see how long I could stay here faking being a grunt until I got figured out,” was your explanation.

Cyrus was even more mortified than before.

You were promptly told to stop and go home.

[whatudottu]

Seeing the “cerebrocrustaceans are highly territorial” headcanon slowly start to pick up more steam (albeit with a split as to whether they’re so cliquey and ride-or-die they view everyone who isn’t in their in-group as a potential threat until they’ve made it abundantly clear that they mean no harm or if they despise any sort of group collaboration unless it’s absolutely, positively necessary) makes me wonder if it’s a common stereotype by the galactic audience to view them as being massive pricks to everyone they meet. Like, oh, everyone on Encephalonus-IV hates each other’s guts and they’re incessantly rude to anyone and everyone they come across! They’re so petty and envious they can’t stand the thought of anyone being better at them than anything and delight in the suffering and misfortune of people they don’t like! They fly into murderous rages if a galvan so much as breathes on them, and if they weren’t such cowards, they’d nuke Galvan Prime into oblivion only to immediately start yet another rivalry with some other species for one reason or another!

Hah! Doesn’t help their case that Dr Psychobos became very well known thanks to the super famous superhero Ben 10!

But no yeah with galvans being the cold detached sort of smart, especially with their prevalence in intergalactic relationships (you don’t become the smartest being in not one but multiple galaxies by sitting alone in your room), what comparatively little interaction to the wider galactic sphere cerebrocrustaceans have has more expectations than if the galvans were more subtle in their influence. If you’ve heard how much of an grumpy old man scientist the First Thinker is, especially when you hear about one of his creations striking out against him due to neglect, well you’ve already started to get the picture of an isolated workspace that no one dares interrupt.

So then you come face to face with a snappy cerebrocrustacean scientist who’s rude, direct, and hovering over your shoulder making sure you don’t fuck up, well you won’t really find many cases of neglect when everything you do is under scrutiny. I guess the difference between my headcanon and @ohyeahben10 ‘s headcanon would be if you can endure the territorial… hostility may not be the right word, the fact that you’re in the same space as a cerebrocrustacean at work is already more than what they’d typically give, in my headcanon sphere you could potentially get past that barrier and transition from outgroup to ingroup; I don’t know exactly what’s in ohyeah’s head but I assume given his headcanons she might say that you practically could never get on a cerebrocrustacean’s good side, or at least not as close as an ingroup would suggest-

Either or, it’s gonna leave a bad first impression, and that is how the stereotype for being prickish is so widespread. Potentially, if a notable cerebrocrustacean scientist works intergalactically, the stereotype may narrow to Encephalonus IV having a very dickish social culture.

[goldmanguyperson]

i feel like people dont understand just how many of our concepts are socially constructed. The concepts we have to recognize each other: queerness, alterhumanity, neurodivergence, even personhood, are also socially constructed. What else do you think you’re doing when you coin terms? You might be describing something real but it is something that can never be real in the same way to everyone. It couldve been described totally differently, or been within a description of something similar but else, in another time by another person. Otherkinity and therianthropy are literally that, even genders related to concepts and animals and creatures can be like otherkin or therianthropy. They are often guided by similar feelings. But they all have different names and ideas associated, because different people thought of them and built different communities and coined different terms.

Ideas sometimes hailed as scientific can also be social constructs. Species is socially constructed. If we lived on evolutionary time scales, we would be able to much more easily see how all species actually gradually flow into each other. The idea of planets is socially constructed. What is the difference between planets and dwarf planets and spheroid asteroids? Not much. Mostly just size. The way we conceptualize time itself is a social construct. Western forms of timekeeping have stamped out traditional ways all across the Earth. Lunar new year is a part of a form of timekeeping that has now been rendered uncommon among its cultures of origin.

Any scientist worth their salt understands these things. Any worldbuilder who’s any good understands these things. Face your assumptions and wonder why they exist. If somebody challenges your preconceived notions, wonder why you had them in the first place, not why that person exists.

Labels and all constructs are not prescriptive. they are descriptive. holding yourself beholden to an exact definition of an idea you use to label yourself and the world can only hurt your understanding of yourself and the world.

Do not replace old restrictive social constructs with yet more restrictive social constructs. Especially not under the guise of personal freedom. Let people call themselves whatever the fuck they want. Be truly free. It’s 3:46 pm on a Sunday on November 2023, timezone PST. It’s been an uncountable amount of Earth orbits since the Earth formed. The sun has only orbited fully around the galactic core about twenty times since its own formation. None of that matters to me as a tiny little person. My time scale is measured in immaterial minutes and hours.

Have some perspective

Be okay with being wrong

[at-liberty-news]

Mutation & Modifications: Part 3

Welcome to the final part of Mutations and Modifications. We know it's taken a long time to arrive. This time we're going to wrap up any straggler details about our foes, then focus more on the environments that the fierce battles take place in.

As the SEAF continues to put pressure on our various enemies, the units among them that previously made up the majority of their forces have slowly whittled down as less prominent enemies have begun to overpopulate in comparison. Helldivers have learned to begin expecting even more Hive Guards, Devastators, and Chargers but far fewer Bile Titans or Hulks than before. 

Along with these shifts in populations is a reduced ability for our enemies to survey their own holdings as effectively as before, leading to fewer hostile patrols, especially in regions where Helldiver sightings are few and far between due to elusive "solo" Helldivers going it alone, often leading to the enemy underestimating the surveillance necessary for the region. Despite this reduction, it's still difficult to go far without running into them.

The constant fighting hasn't just affected our enemies and us; it's affected the planets and ecosystems, too! Planets already prone to seismic tremors have seen them grow in scale. The fire tornadoes roaming the more hellish planets in the galaxy have become even more erratic and unpredictable, with their accompanying dust kick-up often obscuring vision for miles!

A particularly well-known and hated plant by the SEAF, often dubbed the "spike plant" for simplicity's sake, has even been declared endangered due to its frequent impromptu use as an explosive both by and against Helldivers! This invasive species exploded violently when damaged and was capable of inflicting deep fatigue and even deeper wounds that could lead to a bleed-out in minutes. 

With its population so thoroughly diminished, a close cousin of the plant has begun to take its ecological place. While very similar, this newer "spike plant" does not cut nearly as deep, avoiding the fatigue and bleeding its predecessor caused, but it has a much more complex self-defense mechanism, enabling it to explode three separate times. Truly, a fascinating example of the toll that war can take on the environment.

Additionally, planets that are often struck by ion storms have begun to see far more intense, though beautiful, sights from them. Although these changes don't seem to have any ramifications for combat, some citizens are concerned about the timing of a galactic uptick in ion storm activity so soon after the creation of the Meridian black hole.

And speaking about the work of Federation scientists, super-uranium has begun cropping up more often than previously recorded or predicted. Although this is good news for Super Earth, it left many researchers wondering how their projections could have been so far off and where all this previously undiscovered uranium could have come from.

Finally, planets often known for their fog and low visibility have recently seen a shift towards clearer skies! Although it's not entirely clear how or why this is happening, we do have a quote from an anonymous Helldiver on the topic:

"Aw, well, y'know, we been shootin' so many bullets an' lasers an' bombs at things, and blowin' up the whole place that alla the fog an' mist went and flew away, cause we wus pushin' it away with the force o'our guns affectin' the wind patterns, you know?"

Thank you, anonymous; we're sure that for our viewers, that clears up a lot. And thank you, viewers, because we're at the end of this segment. While we still have plenty to report on Super Earth's own armament changes, we'll dedicate that to a segment of its own.

Give 'em Hell, Divers!

[starlite-writes]

At the top of the International Galactic and Oceanic Research Administration, there is a woman.

Very few know of her at all. Most of those who do, do not know her name. They simply call her the Corvid, not only for the omen of misfortune that she is but for the birds she keeps.

The name she gives to those at the top of her hierarchy is Wren.

Wren is a figure shrouded in mystery, concealed so well that her very existence is a hotly debated topic. Some speculate she is only a corporate urban legend, while others say that she—or someone who pretends to be her—must exist.

This is exactly how she likes it.

To be perceived is to be vulnerable, and to be known is to be accountable. Wren has gotten better over the years at holding herself together in polite company, at pulling strings and weaving complex stories to hide reality, but old habits die hard, and it is troublesome to hide one's true nature all the time.

So she does not exist, and thus, she cannot be held accountable for her actions. There will always be someone below her to take the fall—someone nameless, or someone unworthy of his position. There is no greater joy than bringing misfortune upon the deserving, except perhaps bringing it upon the undeserving.

There's a thrill in the chase, in the chess game few know they're playing with her. She's never truly grown out of it—seeing just how closely she can toe the line of acceptable and not without falling over it, and how well she can manipulate her way out of trouble when she does manage to slip. In a way, she is still the same child who sickened water sources just to see if she could get away with it.

There are none who escape death, and there are none who escape bad luck and malaise as it seeps from her cupped hands like water.

---

Beneath Wren sits two scientists, so identical in appearance they could easily be mistaken for twins despite their two-year age difference.

The eldest, known now only as Dr Adaliah Silk, is the image of corporate cruelty. A skilled politician and the head of the space research institute of IGORA, she is often mistaken for the kinder of the two. Though she’s often found smiling, it is rarely warm—as icy as her blue eyes. She is the public face of the company as a whole, with a stunning record of achievement and considerable abilities. There is next to nothing she can do wrong in the eyes of the public. It’s no wonder such a woman is of great interest to many who seek to emulate her success as well as those who wish to tear her down.

Dr Caspian Tussah would make no secret of his past identity as Aurelius Soros if it weren’t for the two women above his head. As it stands, he plays his role of silent but deadly, staying out of the foreground and attending only to his beloved oceanic research institute. He is often seen as cold and callous—the opposite to his cheerful and personable sister. Under his belt are many successes, but a startling number of failures that call to question his qualifications.

Appearances are often deceiving, and many employees would tell you that about the two scientists. Where Dr Silk embraces her role as a cold scientist in a capitalistic society, it is Dr Tussah that maintains a shred of humanity. But where Dr Silk remains the more terrifying of the two, it is Dr Tussah who has the most blood on his hands.

Blood never truly comes clean, and all secrets come to light eventually.

[clean-casual-analysis]

Phase Two: Beasts from Beyond Time Link to phase one: https://www.tumblr.com/clean-casual-analysis/743497764011458560/how-id-ruin-it-transformers-part-two?source=share

The first act of phase two starts with the autobots having the advantage over the decepticons for the first time in years. Many top decepticons were killed by Nemesis, the lifeguard squadron is succeeding in its mission to save lives, and the ascenticons are wondering if an alliance with the autobots is needed to overthrow Megatron. But then, seemingly from nowhere, a group of highly skilled and unnaturally powerful cybertronians come to aid the decepticons. They’re secretive and seem to have an agenda of their own, but Megatron only cares that they choose to help him. It would be revealed that this group, who call themselves terracons, are servants of Unicron from the possible future known as the Age of Beast Machines. (See my lore post about that) The terrorcons have gone back in time to ensure that their fallen master has total victory in the past. But their plans are foiled by an unexpected arrival.

The second act is the arrival of the two groups Maximals and Predacons from the Age of Beast Machines. (The Axalon and the Darksyde) The two allied forces wish to stop the terrorcons before they alter history to the point of destruction of their timeline. Little do the bots and cons know, the two leaders of the maximals and predacons secretly plan on depowering/eliminating Unicron while he still slumbers, despite that potentially destroying their timeline. Once that deed is done, it wouldn’t be long before the predacons led by their Megatron betrayed the maximals and joined the decepticons. Using a secretly stolen data disk of history, the predacons try to prevent autobot victories before they happen. The maximals, led by Optimus Primal, aid the autobots in stopping the traitorous predacons.

The third act brings the entrance of a group of ancient cybertronians that once worked with Nova Prime. Their leader, Jhiaxus, presents a copy of the matrix. This copy has the capability of trapping and harnessing the full power of Unicron. Phase two ends on a cliffhanger, with Beast Megatron using this matrix to turn his namesake into Galvatron, create a vehicon army by the billions, and reformate the entirety of Cybertron into a mobile battleship for galactic conquest. The autobots and ascenticons must join forces if they hope to succeed.

The maximals that join the Lifeguard squadron: Given that most maximals on the Axalon are scientists and explorers, there isn’t much military might to go around. But at the request of Jazz, Optimus Primal offered what he could to what he believed to be a good cause.

Espianoge specialist and Axalon chef: Rattrap. The young chef turned spy in training isn’t a coward, he just doesn’t want to die. The only reason he joined the maximals is brecause his girlfriend, a scientist named Botanica, insisted that he use his skills to help others. As chef, he cooks meals for both cybertronians and organics alike. As an espionage specialist, his small size and talent with explosives make him indispensable. Cynical and disrespectful, Rattrap’s smart mouth attitude makes him hard to like. But when the chips are down, he shows dedication to the maximal cause of helping others.

Alt mode: Bio mechanical rat.

Inspiration: Beast Wars/Machines Rattrap

Notes: I love Rise of the Beasts, but Rattrap not being in it was a crime.

Bodyguard and warrior: Transmutate. Born among a group of unique warriors known as the fossilizers, Transmutate is a deadly combatant despite her timid nature. This is mostly due to her hypersonic scream ability, but she’s also handy with a club as well. Curious and kindhearted, the maximals were a perfect fit for Transmutate. While she has trouble socializing with her peers, her boundless cheer and surprising power are invaluable.

Alt mode: T-rex skeleton. (ala her Kingdom toy)

Inspiration: Beast Wars and Kingdom

Notes: Autism coding from collector’s club stories included!

Scout and tracker: Cybershark. While he has a reputation for being a lone wolf, this stems from his Cybershark’s love of thrill seeking than his willingness to be a team player. Brave, adventurous and good-humored, the swashbuckling shark has fought for freedom across hundreds of alien oceans. Cybershark’s greatest flaw is his lack of foresight, his love of adventure and battle often leading him to bite off more than he can chew. While he still has trouble working with a team, he values his crewmates more than anything.

Alt mode: Bio mechanical hammerhead shark.

Inspiration: Beast Wars toy bio.

Notes: Cybershark would have a pirate accent as well.

The predacons that join the ascenticons: The predacons of the Darksyde, radicalized or handpicked by (Beast) Megatron, are some of the most sadistic and cruel cybertronians from the age of beast machines. But a select few have not been completely swayed by their captain. Sensing an opportunity to better understand this new potential threat, Starscream quickly recruits these three into the ascenticons.

Pyro and warrior: Inferno. Born with a unique immunity to pain, Inferno is a cackling pyromaniac with no ambitions beyond serving a cause he sees as worthy. While he was initially thrilled to serve Beast Megatron on the darksyde, he’s not the blindly loyal peon most make him out to be. He’s critical of those that command him and his comrades and sees Megatron’s plans as self-serving and at the detriment of the whole of cybertronian kind. Finding new purpose and comradery in Starscream’s acenticons, Inferno is eager to burn and melt his enemies with a wicked grin on his face.

Alt mode: Bio mechanical ant.

Inspiration: Beast wars Inferno

Notes: Inferno has a verbal tick of calling his superiors Queen, no matter their gender.

Mechanic and reluctant warrior: Waspinator. The sulking and somewhat child-like predacon absolutely hates fighting, not because of any morale quandaries, but because of his rotten luck. Despite only signing on as a mechanic for the darksyde, he’s forced onto the battlefield at almost every opportunity due to his uniquely durable spark chamber. He’s been blown to bits and torn apart more times than he can count. Thoroughly sick of being a punching bag, he was all too grateful for a chance to join the ascenticons. While he much prefers repairing broken equipment, Waspinator is still a good shot with his stinger pistol.

Alt mode: Bio mechanical Wasp.

Inspiration: Beast Wars and 2021 comic Waspinator

Notes: I just wanna give this boy a happy ending where he isn’t constantly blown up or embarrassed.

Demolitions expert: Retrax. Joining the predacons was the biggest mistake of Retrax’s life. Although he came into the faction with wide eyes and a patriotic sense of duty, the sadistic and megalomaniacal crew of the darksyde turned him into an anxious and cowardly mess. Despite becoming a faint-hearted neurotic, he’s tries and succeeds greatly at his job. An expert in explosives, combined with a hardy shell and ability to dig tunnels, makes Retrax a force to be reckoned with once he works up the courage.

Alt mode: Bio mechanical pill bug.

Inspiration: Beast Wars Toy

Notes: I just think he’s neat.

Terrorcons: Heralds and worshipers of Unicron.

Leader and hunter: Darklaw. Equal parts menacing and mysterious, Darklaw is a fearsome hunter and leader of the terrorcons. His body is covered in the insignia badges of all that he’s killed, but his skills in combat prove his ferocity more then the badges ever could. Oozing with confidence, everyone who doesn’t know who he serves get the impression that he’s laughing at a punchline that the rest of them don’t get. Darklaw knows the power of Unicron makes him untouchable, and he’s willing to do whatever the chaos killer commands him to do.

Alt mode: Truck

Inspiration: Rise of the Beasts Scourge

Notes: We’d find out that this is future Scourge from the Beast Machines timeline where Unicron wipes out most of the galaxy. One of the climatic battles is between our Scourge and Darklaw.

Sabotage expert and warrior: Battletrap. Unrelenting and bloodthirsty, Battletrap relishes any opportunity to fight for his dark master. Once an unassuming Junkion, this heavily armored enforcer uses every dirty trick and morally bankrupt tactic to get the upper hand on his enemies. He especially loves to spread mines and trip wires across the battlefield. Whoever Battletrap was before becoming a herald for Unicron is long dead inside, replaced with a simple-minded and hate filled soldier.

Alt mode: Tow truck

Inspiration: Rise of the Beasts Battletrap

Notes: I’d add a bit of tragedy to him, showing what happens to an average guy when he succumbs to corruption and warfare.

Ninja Assassin: Nightbird. Before becoming one of Unicron’s heralds, Nightbird was a prototype robot built by an unknown alien race for the purpose of fighting cybertronians. Slightly haughty but usually silent, the assassin wastes no time when she sets her sights on her opponents. Deadly with a blade and as quiet as a whisper, most don’t see her attacks coming until it’s too late. With no previous life before Unicron claimed her, Nightbird’s loyalty and worship of the chaos killer is absolute.

Alt mode: Sports car

Inspiration: Rise of the Beast and G1 Nightbird

Notes: After Beast Megatron gets Unicron into a Matrix created by Jhiaxus, Nightbird has a crisis of faith. How could the dark god be contained and controlled like this? She eventually learns to think for herself and forge her own path.

Former underlings of Nova Prime: Infected by dark energon, Nova and some of his crew went into self-exile. These three scientists are all that remain. They resist the temptations of the chaos killer and work to subdue him once and for all.

Weapons engineer and commander: Jhiaxus. Once considered a close friend of Nova Prime and a passionate mind, dark energon has left Jhiaxus cold and stoic. Through sheer will and the aid of his assistant, Cloudcover, Jhiaxus is able to resist the dark urges that Unicron forces onto his team. With a raw hatred for the chaos killer and an unmatched sense of cybertronian pride, Jhiaxus plans on containing Unicron and focusing the chaos killer’s godlike power into a matrix of unimaginable power. Due to his belief the cybertronians were the most superior species in the galaxy, he chose to ally himself with both Megatrons.

Alt mode: Cybertronian Jet

Inspiration: G2 and bits of IDW Jhiaxus

Notes: A combination of amoral scientist Jhiaxus and stoic warrior holding back anger Jhiaxus. He’s also the creator of Battle Master technology, where minicons can upgrade themselves into weapons for larger bots to wield.

Chemist: Cloudcover. A medical and chemical expert of great renown, Cloudcover discovered how to best resist the whispers of Unicron and the right components to create a matrix. These discoveries caused the already arrogant bot to become a full-blown narcissist with a penchant for wise cracking. Despite his overconfidence, his skills in chemical warfare are subpar at best. The primary source of inspiration for the decepticon squad known as the rainmakers, Cloudcover relies heavily on long distance fighting and altering the terrain to his advantage with his concoctions.

Alt mode: Combat jet (retool of Starscream)

Inspiration: G2 Cloudcoveer and Beast Machines Jetstorm (personality wise)

Notes: I just like the legacy toy’s color scheme and to give Jhiaxus a main scientist to work with.

Mutation and Warrior: Toxitron. Born with a mutated body that leaks deadly acid, Toxitron was a lonely and self-hating nomad until a chance encounter with Nova Prime changed things. Through the guidance of the Prime and his friends, the acidic warrior learned to control his destructive power and use it for good. He owes Jhiaxus and Cloudcover everything, but he disagrees with their philosophy of cybertronian dominance over all life. While he struggles to control his anger and comes off as simple-minded, he’s a soft-hearted soul who wants to share the empathy that was given to him so long ago.

Alt Mode: Truck (retool of Optimus)

Inspiration: Most incarnations of Toxitron

Notes: Tragic Frankenstein monster bot is a favorite of mine, despite not reading any of his stories.

[tetohe]

Why the war started, we no longer know. But these last twenty years have been devistating. For them, sure, but (and still the propagandists try to hide it) for us too.

On Xylx, they occupied a citadel for fifteen years, sneaking out across the planet to undermine infustructure, power, communications. We assaulted it year after year, but they always came back. So we evecuated the planet (imminent ecological disaster, they said), and bombed it to peices.

My wife was there. She says they scanned the planet afterwards, and one of them were still alive. They were standing out in the open, skin blistering from the radiation, just screaming at the sky. A second bombardment was ordered, which cost the military advisor his job and forced an election.

Or again, at the battle of Kaz Station. They had fifteen small cruisers against our one hundred battleships. The fight lasted no longer than ten minutes, decimated ninty percent of their forces. A month later, a terrible tragedy caused by maintinence failure destroyed the station. Six months later, we launched a new offensive, and were halted by a massive, hulking, patchwork ship, roughly in the shape of Kaz Station. The propagandists said it was to intimidate us, to remind us of our failure. The only failure I see was getting involved with these creatures in the first place.

I once spoke with one of them, a prisoner. They told me this story about an insect on their home planet. They believe it to be so resilient that it will survive anything. They called it a cockroach, and I wonder if this is their way of telling each other how tough they are, and how enduring their world is.

They're not powerful, physically. Or important galactically. They've only terraformed one planet in their home system (but with settlements on five), and only have a single interstellar system they control. But yet somehow, they're everywhere. Every station has some. Every planet knows who they are. And for the last twenty years every single one of them has been intent on destroying us. And if this war continues any longer, they might just well succeed.

We've lost three systems, millions of soldiers, and almost the same number of ships as we currently have. Two more systems are determined to declare independence, and our politicians have divided into factions so opposed, that civil war seems inevitable.

So to save ourselves, we must take desperate action. The propagandists will try spin this another way, but I want to state it clearly here for the record. We're going to bomb them all. Every planet they have settlements on, every world they've occupied. And then, with the help of the galactic community, we're going to isolate them. Every jump gate will be coded to not activate with their dna present. Hyperspace will be denied to them. Even if they survive, they will never reach us. This heinous action must be taken for us to survive. And the galaxy will be better off for it.

...

Postscript: I write this five years after the bombing of their planets ended the war. Scientists today have officially confirmed a massive object travelling at near light-speed is heading towards us. They refuse to speculate on what it is, but it's coming from the direction of their system. One hundred years from now, it will arrive. We have no way of stopping it. No way to know what's in it or what it will do. But I do know what it'll be called.

Humans have always been endurance hunters. We can endure untold physical, psychological, and emotional trauma. Being so unexceptional, we are mocked by the intergalactic community until war shows how terrifying it is to simply… endure.

[myresearchings]

http://topazx.blog78.fc2.com/blog-entry-139.html

Political System of the Galactic Empire by One Fine Day

This article criticizes the Empire pretty harshly, so if you're a fan of the Empire, please turn back now. The Free Planets Alliance, seen as a "representation of actually existing democracy" in the Galactic Empire, is entirely corrupt. There's no denying that. It's no wonder that the imperials are surprised to find that Yang, Bucock, and others are fighting, however reluctantly, to protect this corrupt system. To them, it must have seemed too good to be enslaved to a democractic system. By the same token, it makes sense that certain fans get fed up with the Alliance, which forces Yang do things he doesn't like, and side with the Empire instead. To put it another way, "I like Yang but hate the Alliance, so I'll just put Yang in the Empire." No one wants to see their loved ones suffer, and it's natural to dislike any environment which binds them. According to the political values of the New Empire's Lohengramm Dynasty, it's commonly held that "making use of outstanding talent" is the same as "cutting out incompetent (useless) people." That certainly seems efficient and rational (although it seems to me not so different from welfare reforms that aim to improve efficiency by cutting off the elderly and disabled). In their eyes, democracy may be a foolish system which "eliminates God-given geniuses in favor of opportunistic incompetents and traitors." However, this actually serves as strong evidence that they are blindly militaristic and judge people based on how they can be mobilized for war. Of course, they have personal relationships with family and friends. However, if I were to give an answer to whether they have ever analyzed society from a perspective other than "politics and strategy," I would definitely answer "no." Because if they thought not as soldiers but purely as individual stakeholders in society, they would immediately find flaws with this idea that "democracy eliminates geniuses." Their model of "genius" is an individual who is skilled in politics and strategy, like von Lohengramm, and other fields are not taken into consideration at all. They may have a vision of genius soldiers and politicians, but they can't envision genius composers, genius painters, genius scientists (in fields other than weapons production), genius ballerinas, genius soccer players, genius film directors, genius doctors, or genius cooks. They may recognize the talent to kill and manipulate human beings, but they have no interest in the talent to entertain people, make them happy, or even transform/save people. (Some readers may object, saying, "That can't be helped since they're soldiers," or "Leisure can't be afforded during wartime," but I would like to point out that this is precisely the way of thinking which promotes militarism. It just the same as thinking "We have no other desire than to win.") That's why I don't think the Lohengramm Dynasty could have lasted long. After all, "He who rises by the sword shall perish by the sword" (I don't think all Christian teachings are right, but this saying is true). Further, the first ruler of the peaceful era was "that" Kaiserin (yes, that Kaiserin who was grateful for the era of war in which people died like insects, calling it "an interesting time." I found this statement shocking). (TN Note: She's talking about Hilda here. She seemed anti-militaristic to me; however, the author of this article read the novels and has a quite different impression of the character compared to mine.)

There was also Trünicht, who used the fact that democracy is morally superior to tyranny to promote himself. I agree with Yang's assertion that "even democracy is not an absolute and unchanging value." The form of democracy that we know today is like a newborn when seen in the light of all human history. It's scraping by in the world today, but the democratic ideal, and systems based on it, are not without contradictions. Above all, there is no guarantee that democracy will be the sole, universal, and valid political system for all time. The union of church and state, commonplace even 5000 years ago, and the class system, once seen as divinely ordained by God, are now withered corpses in today's world. Bad habits should be discarded. Democracy as we know it may be outdated and headed for the history museum in the next 1,000 years. Nevertheless, if I had to pick one of the two political systems featured in Legend of the Galactic Heroes, and entrust humanity's future to it, I would have to pick democracy. I am not claiming that the Lohengramm Dynasty is the same as the Goldenbaum Dynasty and that only the name of the ruler changed. (Well, it's true that, although the aristocratic families were wiped out, the privileged class of aristocracy itself was not eliminated in the end. Instead, the new empire's laudable servants and the the families of the new dynasty became the ruling class, so the class system will return to its previous state in about 100 years. The signs of this were visible before the end of the original story--such as the title of Archduchess given to Annerose.) Anyway, whether it be the Goldenbaum Dynasty or the Lohengramm Dynasty, the system is not new at all. Even the most ordinary citizen of today can easily deduce, predict, and imagine its scale: it is a broken system. The time when Christianity appeared in the Roman Empire was the age of the rulers of the earth, that is to say, gods. It was natural for them to be worshiped as gods after death, and in the Kingdoms of Egypt, which existed even longer than Rome, the unity of church and state is so infamous that there is no need to describe it. In those days, the ideas of early Christianity--that God is on the side of the poor, and that in God's eyes, the emperor and the poor are equally beloved creatures--was so sensational that it turned society upside down. This was something completely new, unimaginable in society up to that point. Then, more than 1,000 years later, when Christianity--or more precisely, the Catholic Church--had become a vested interest, the Protestant Revolution begun by clergymen, represented by Martin Luther, was something that Europeans at the time could only perceive as the voice of God or whispers of the devil. The people of that time had believed there was only one church on earth and that the Pope was God's representative for more than 1,000; the concept of religious freedom was completely new and unimaginable.

There are many such examples. The emergency of new ideas, cahnges in society, and changes in people's ways of thinking are recurring in history; the accumulation of these things could be called history itself. However, in LOGH, there is nothing new about the imperial political system that sits around criticizing democracy. This is something far more important than the trivial debate about whether the Goldenbaum and Lohengramm Dynasties are different. The tyranny represented ni LOGH is not something that will be replaced by democracy in the distant future, but instead something that was, in our time, already replaced by democracy 300 years ago due to its inherent contradictions and inefficiencies. It is a very old and corrupt system. Even if the human race of LOGH stopped developing along the way, it is logically impossible for a system proven useless 1,800 years ago to destroy a system that functioned reasonably well 1,500 years ago. (And I think this is the limit of the Legend of the Galactic Heroes novels, the reason why it cannot become science fiction that predicts social changes and the future based on careful observation. The political systems and societies depicted in it were all already existent when it was written.) Even if the Alliance can be seen to signify the inevitable end of democracy and need for a better system, said system is by no means the tyranny of the Galactic Empire, and for that matter, it is also not the "constitutional monarchy" that the Iserlohn Republic hopes for. Because whatever comes after democracy, it will be something we have never seen or thought of before, and at least for us ordinary citizens, with it will come confusion and shock of our world ending. Just like democracy did for the people living under the monarchy at the time of the French Revolution. Some of us will hate it, detest it, seek to elimate it, while others will enthusiastically welcome it, be fasinated by it, and risk their lives for it. That's how history is made.

[spacenutspod]

Image: The graceful winding arms of the grand-design spiral galaxy M51 stretch across this image from the NASA/ESA/CSA James Webb Space Telescope. Unlike the menagerie of weird and wonderful spiral galaxies with ragged or disrupted spiral arms, grand-design spiral galaxies boast prominent, well-developed spiral arms like the ones showcased in this image. This galactic portrait is a composite image that integrates data from Webb’s Near-InfraRed Camera (NIRCam) and the innovative Mid-InfraRed Instrument (MIRI), half of which was contributed by Europe.In this image the dark red regions trace the filamentary warm dust permeating the medium of the galaxy. The red regions show the reprocessed light from complex molecules forming on dust grains, while colours of orange and yellow reveal the regions of ionised gas by the recently formed star clusters. Stellar feedback has a dramatic effect on the medium of the galaxy and create complex network of bright knots as well as cavernous black bubbles.M51 – also known as NGC 5194 or the Whirlpool Galaxy – lies about 27 million light-years away from Earth in the constellation Canes Venatici, and is trapped in a tumultuous relationship with its near neighbour, the dwarf galaxy NGC 5195. The interaction between these two galaxies has made these galactic neighbours one of the better-studied galaxy pairs in the night sky. The gravitational influence of M51’s smaller companion is thought to be partially responsible for the stately nature of the galaxy’s prominent and distinct spiral arms. If you would like to learn more about this squabbling pair of galactic neighbours, you can explore earlier observations of M51 by the NASA/ESA Hubble Space Telescope here. This Webb observation of M51 is one of a series of observations collectively titled Feedback in Emerging extrAgalactic Star clusTers, or FEAST. The FEAST observations were designed to shed light on the interplay between stellar feedback and star formation in environments outside of our own galaxy, the Milky Way. Stellar feedback is the term used to describe the outpouring of energy from stars into the environments which form them, and is a crucial process in determining the rates at which stars form. Understanding stellar feedback is vital to building accurate universal models of star formation.The aim of the FEAST observations is to discover and study stellar nurseries in galaxies beyond our own Milky Way. Before Webb became operative, other observatories such as the Atacama Large Millimetre Array in the Chilean desert and Hubble have given us a glimpse of star formation either at the onset (tracing the dense gas and dust clouds where stars will form) or after the stars have destroyed with their energy their natal gas and dust clouds. Webb is opening a new window into the early stages of star formation and stellar light, as well as the energy reprocessing of gas and dust. Scientists are seeing star clusters emerging from their natal cloud in galaxies beyond our local group for the first time. They will also be able to measure how long it takes for these stars to pollute with newly formed metals and to clean out the gas (these time scales are different from galaxy to galaxy). By studying these processes, we will better understand how the star formation cycle and metal enrichment are regulated within galaxies as well as what are the time scales for planets and brown dwarfs to form. Once dust and gas is removed from the newly formed stars, there is no material left to form planets.[Image Description: A large spiral galaxy takes up the entirety of the image. The core is mostly bright white, but there are also swirling, detailed structures that resemble water circling a drain. There is white and pale blue light that emanates from stars and dust at the core’s centre, but it is tightly limited to the core. The rings feature colours of deep red and orange and highlight filaments of dust around cavernous black bubbles.]

[incangencence]

by my side || @fatherofthevortex continued from here

The former Lord President had been quietly pondering the alien world around him as he made his way down the street when he'd found himself in the sudden company of a stranger, a furrow creasing his brow as he looked to her with utter confusion. Admittedly, he'd been rather tempted to look back and see who it was, whether or not he might have recognised them, though for the time being, the Time Lord supposed that would make it rather obvious and so he kept going, still eyeing the woman beside him. "Wonderful... one can barely go a day without some sort of shenanigans falling upon my lap. Not literally, of course... though there was that one time..." Rassilon blinked a few times as he managed to pull himself back from his train of thought, looking back at the stranger again. "And might I know the name of my apparent knight in shining armour? And while we are conversing... how do you know they are following me? Perhaps they are lost? Or confused... as most of you seem to be without even knowing it."

Gene snorted in amusement, linking her arm through the taller man's and falling into step with him, tugging him closer to her side. "No such luck, I'm afraid. They are most definitely following you," she replied under her breath, so that only her new companion could hear. "They've been following you for the past ten blocks. Which I know, 'cause I've been following them. Been tracking them across eight solar systems now... Course they ended up on Earth. Everyone always does. Honestly, you'd think people could think of more interesting planets to take a holiday!"

She reached a hand up, brushing the curls from her eyes. "Call me Gene. All my friends do. And it's your very lucky day mate, 'cause you very much want me to be your friend right now. Look, I'll keep you safe, but I need you to do exactly as I say, yeah? There's nothing to be scared of -- my friend and I, we do this all the time. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. That's my job." She looked the stranger up and down, sizing him up as quickly as she could.

"Knew they'd be targeting someone on-world... Been a minute since I've been back in this time, though. God, this probably isn't making any sense, is it? That's alright. We can catch up as we walk! Who exactly are you supposed to be? Politician? Scientist? No offense, but you don't look the type to be the target of inter-galactic assassins... You haven't picked up any weird space rocks lately, have you? Got E.T. hiding out in your closet at home?"

[sciencespies]

Did magnetism shape the universe? An epic experiment suggests it did

https://sciencespies.com/space/did-magnetism-shape-the-universe-an-epic-experiment-suggests-it-did/

Did magnetism shape the universe? An epic experiment suggests it did

The idea that magnetism helped shape the universe has been dismissed by scientists for decades, but now new experiments involving plasma that is hotter than the sun are prompting a rethink

Space 5 October 2022

By Stuart Clark

Andy Gilmore

THERE are few places on Earth where conditions get as extreme as they do at the National Ignition Facility near Los Angeles. At its heart, 192 lasers are trained on a gold cylinder roughly the size of an AA battery. As the beams converge, the temperature in the test chamber leaps to 100 million oC, hotter than the centre of the sun.

The facility was built to investigate the possibility of harnessing nuclear fusion, which promises unlimited clean energy. But earlier this year, researchers announced that its powerful lasers have also been directed at a different kind of big question – what shaped the universe?

The cosmos is a beautiful place. At the largest scales, a vast web of matter is woven throughout space. Zoom in and you see galaxies cluster in billowing clouds, while the individual galaxies themselves come in a wondrous array of shapes, including elegant spirals like that of our Milky Way.

For decades, it has been thought that only gravity has what it takes to sculpt such wonders. Now, hot on the heels of a slew of intriguing galactic observations, laser-fired experiments are throwing up hints that we may have wrongly dismissed the influence of another force.

Magnetism has always been considered too weak to be a cosmic sculptor. But those behind the latest results claim that in the white heat of the test chamber, they have caught a glimpse of how this forgotten force can be turbocharged. If so, we might have to find a new place for magnetism, alongside gravity, in our picture of how the cosmos came to look the way it …

#Space

[gardeningintrests]

food 1a)

All around the galactic province on the eastern side of the galaxy, there was a rumour going around

"have you heard? the infamous 'deathworlders' are going to arrive in a few cycles! "

"i heard they dont have any fur! they only have skin warping up their bare muscles!"

"i heard they use high grade weapons for their daily life!"

"the rumour has it that they will eat anything within its sight when hungry"

"i heard they have hair on their heads and no where else!"

of course, some of the rumours were stupid and exagerated. but in face, a crew of humans is indeed coming its way to the galactic eastern province to attend a universal meeting about their diets and if any food from the death world (also known as Terran) can be edible by any other species.

onced the news of the rumans sudden arrival at the international space station, half of the Kaaldan species were gathering outside of the space station to satisfy their curiousity of the looks of the Terrans (humans)

"ugh, what a nuisance" captain jack said while preparing to depart onto a unfailiar land and looking outside with a window thats tainted so that outsiders cant see inside.

"well we just gotta ignore it." "yeah we have no other choice do we?"

a few of the crew said and sighed. They want to qucikly get the goody goody greeting and information insertion and then finalize their existence so that they can go places without getting scorned or gazed at with curiosity and hostility.

but they have a klong way to go, so they need to start step by step.

"welp, lets get going. the longer we stay the more people are coming here"

"can we even call them people?"

"dont be rude, Francis. We are going to be with them for the rest of our lives."

"im so resigning"

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The crew of humans finally with the help of their hooded uniforms and masks and sunglasses, non of their face was recorded or taken a picture of. It was tiring to run from bystanders who are trying their horrible best to look at them.

they reached the meeting place.

Upon entering eveyong stood and welcomed them. in the meeting room, there was a huge round table, inside is no other than floating computer windows, statistics, notes and a system checker(like settings but more advanced)

they sat at the north of the round table (that makes them the star of the meeting)

they started as soonn as the humans took off their helmets and masks that hid of their face. and eveyone present were either wowed, shocked, scared or a mix of the said emotions.

Captain Jack Introduced himself, and eveyone is shcoked at his face. There was a huge scar, from his chin up to his forehead. Everyone present knows scars arent a good thing to talk about in any setient species.

they started with food, the basics.

once they all filled the humans screen with information of what is dangerous poison and what is edible foods around the galaxy. they provided them with the chemicals inside of the foods so that they can understand why theyre so dangerous.

afterall, humans are very curious creatures. so providing them with information would be a good idea to satisfy them.

Every species in the current seatings were proud of themsevles because they found humans a bit cute (somewhat like their young)

however.

the humans looked confused.

everyone soon tried to understand why, is it because the information is too complex for them to understand? perhaps a translation error? or perhaps they dont understand as they are not scientist?

then suddenly, one of the humans spoke : "uhmm, pardon my rudeness but is it alright for me to speak my mind?"

"of course human. "

"why is caffine not allowed?"

everyone stood in shock, and the remaining humans immediately pulled their friend down and whispered something to them. and the human seemed to relaized his mistake and apologized frantically.

"IM SO SORRY I WASNT AT MY RIGHT MIND JUST NOW, I WAS THINKING ABOUT THE CHEMICAL FORMULAS SO MUCH I FORGOT MY APOLOGIES!!"

the human shouted his apology so loud that some species had a hard time in reciving it.

the aliens were all curious but too scared to ask, until a kaaldan asked the thing everyone is thinking about .

"why do you think caffine is allowed? if im correct, caffine is a high poison. It is usually used for execution and maybe poisoning of the leaders."

eveyone noded or responded in some way that is fit to their way of agreeing.

"im terribly sorry about my comrade has said, and to answer your question just now captain Huieosyen. Because in our planet, humans sometimes need to keep themselves awake for a longer time and in order to do that, we drink a beverag called coffee....

after long hours of explaning cafine and other things that cannot be eaten however edible in some way.

all of them were shocked at the humans discovery of baking and a usage of fire. They wouldve expected them like half of them, using fire to engage in combat and defend or hunt, to find the humans not really fit into their expectations of violence.

'well its better this way, they are adorable beings and i rather them not join battles'

after a while, the humans started to talk about the dinning etiquette, courses, disserts and how they are served or how they are made. They also put up pictures and videos of the crew making the food themselves.

the aliens were... upheaveled. what? humans put bacteria on food to make it more delicious?? is this really a thing? humans like any other sentient species is that outside bacteria is not good for the body and they put it on food. the one thing they eat.

and then because of this the humans stayed another few hours explaning and giving out information for each food that basiclly exist.

"thank you so much for your cooperation, Humans. And we are terribly sorry for taking your time away."

"no no its alright, its for the safety of not only us humans but also the species out there."

and with that, the humans returned to the international space station and by the time they arrive, it was already 2 in the morning. what a long day.

a few months later, the whole article about human food is published onto the galactic net and everyone was caught off guard by the weirdness of the humans.

and soon, cook books and tv shows are suddenly on air, showing diffrent species of aliens what they can and cannot eat.

makes us wonder what would happen if they knew humans used fire for other things as well.

[freedfromthegalactichivemind]

Pretty Close

She-Ra fanfiction Entrapdak Entrapdak Mini Month / 14 Prompts Rating: G  Fluff Prompt / Theme 1: Hug  Pretty Close Hordak would have never been mistaken as an affectionate man, as a man who gave, liked, or even understood the purpose of hugs.  He was aloof and mysterious, typically ensconced within his mysterious Sanctum or handing out orders to his high command, with brutal consequences for disobedience and subterfuge. Scorpia was the giver of hugs within the Horde, and was quite proud of it – but even she failed to approach Hordak.  The fear that he engendered meant that she kept a respectful distance from her boss. Hordak had his own complex reasons for a discomfort with physical affection.  His memories of the Galactic Horde had become vague and fragmented – enough that he was certain that his efforts would be rewarded and that his favored locals would retain a privileged position in the full annexation of the planet.  He, however had memories of what physical attentions were like under Horde Prime.  He scolded himself for blasphemous thoughts – for the favor of Horde Prime’s touch was to be accepted and welcomed, but he’d felt a tremor of a nameless fear whenever he’d thought of it.  He’d never recalled being hugged by Prime in the way that Scorpia insisted upon hugging people, but he recalled a certain aspect of touch – a brush to the cheek that turned into a grip at the throat or a manipulation of the body through an invasion of the mind.  And so, Hordak never had the apparent needs of most of Etheria’s native populace. Remaining aloof and disdainful of such needs made him appear strong and hard.  He was given respect as an untouchable figure – something akin to a stone statue that loomed over the Fright Zone. This changed somewhat when his failed attempt at a new body was extracted from his vitrine.  Imp was an odd creature – an immature form of his kind and in need of certain kinds of attention that could not be simply downloaded for the development of his body and his brain.  Hordak had taken to holding him in the same manner as he’d held an infant Scorpia in his fragmented memories of his early days on Etheria spent among her family, learning the ways of this world before it all fell apart and conquest together turned into conquest alone. Still, no one would accuse him of affection. And so, the first time that he’d experienced what could be termed a “hug” came quite by accident. Entrapta, his newest scientific asset – at least that was what he’d been telling himself in the time they were working together – that she was just an asset, mere “humanoid resources” as the term went – unfortunately had all of the self-preservation instincts of an overripe potato. The scientist had a brilliant technological mind.  She easily understood the information he had to impart, despite being the denizen of a dimension-exiled backwater planet.  Hordak had come to fear for her every day.  He’d finally (finally!) found a being with a usable intellect on this forsaken world and yet he’d wondered how she’d managed to remain alive to grow into an adult.  She did practice basic lab-safety, what with her welding mask and gloves, but she was nonchalant about experiment-failures, including the explosive ones. More than once he’d witnessed her narrowly avoiding getting a limb sheared off by an errant machine-part by sheer luck. So, when a fire broke out in one segment of the Fright Zone – a broken down skiff engine explosion in the skiff-bay - and she darted off to investigate it, Hordak leapt after her. “Stay put, you fool!” he cried. “I have robots programmed to handle such emergencies!” “I wanna see ‘em at work!” He usually could not catch her before she vaulted up into a vent, but, by chance, he’d managed to do just that during this incident.  She launched her ponytails up into a vent-shaft and just before she pulled herself into it, Hordak jumped upon her, wrapping his arms around her tightly. She squeaked. He squeaked. Hordak held onto Entrapta tightly.  She was dumbfounded that he had caught her. She looked up at him. His ears dipped briefly.  A blush appeared on his cheeks. The armor plating on his chest, beneath his dress, was flush against her body, as were cabled muscles of his arms.  Entrapta immediately deciphered that at least some portions of his armor were robotic muscles.  Which aspects were his armor, which were his flesh?  Oooh, this was fascinating! Hordak’s body definitely warranted further study. “The sirens have silenced,” Hordak announced.  “The machines have the disaster quelled.  Now return to the Sanctum. We have work to do.” Just as he was letting his arms lax to let her go, Entrapta turned around in his embrace and wrapped her hair around his back. “Ah! Ah!” Hordak yelped as her hands patted him around his waist-armor. “Oooh, your armor-setup is faaaaaacinating!  May I touch it?” Hordak shirked back from her.  “Unhand me immediately!” Entrapta looked down.  She then smiled up at him, taking note of his clear fidgeting. “You give great hugs, you know!” she said.  “Not as good as Scorpia’s, but pretty close!” Hordak crossed his arms.  “That was not a hug.  I was keeping you from getting yourself needlessly harmed.” She responded by poking one of his arms.  “I want to know more about how your arms work.  Hug me again!” Hordak blushed and snorted, utterly flummoxed.