Bad: aliens that insist upon referring to human women as “feeeeemales”.
Good: aliens that insist upon dividing humans into binary categories, but the binary in question is based on something we’d regard as trivial and bizarre.
pro cilantro and anti cilantro
Just to screw with us they refer to have designated half the population as “edible” and the other half is “inedible.”
No intention of eating anyone, they just like how uncomfortable it makes everyone.
Even better: the aliens all agree on who is edible and who is inedible, but the humans have no idea what the criteria is
Even better: there is no criteria, the Aliens just keep a running list of whenever one member designated a human as edible or not. People are baffled because the selection appears random yet all the aliens are up to date, so there must be SOMETHJNG
I love this because it implies the aliens possess either (1) a universal hive mind or (2) an intergalactic group chat dedicated to fucking with humanity
okay, so, I love all the posts that run off the assumption that humans are the most ridiculous sapient species in the galaxy
but what if it’s just the other way around
what if humans are notoriously straitlaced and obsessed with protocol. the bureaucrats of the stars.
which is obviously something we would constantly try to complain about and disprove only for some Alpha Centaurian to be like “Captain, your species formalized spirituality, repeatedly, and a recurring theme therein is that the heavens themselves are run as a bureaucracy. Even your rebellions and revolutions are meticulously planned.”
it’s not a bad thing, per se, to have a human on your team — analytical minds, good diplomats (if only because one human etiquette system can be more complex and even contradictory than the vastly varied customs of an entire species) — but be prepared for them to call attention to moral quandaries and loopholes that never would have occurred to you.
and speaking of loopholes, do be careful, because the only thing worse than a human armed with an ironclad system of rules is a human who’s found a gaping hole in them.
“You’re telling me there was a mass movement to name a boat something dumb as a joke?”
“First of all, it wasn’t a mass movement, and second of all, the boat was by no means the first time nor the last.”
“…Exactly how much of Earth comedy is based on incongruous branding?”
Hear me out here: Humans as both.
Like most sapient species assume the above; humans are straitlaced, meticulous, and methodical. They follow strict rules which dictate their social interactions and even a slight variation is considered taboo. They are the quintessential bureaucrats.
Except when they’re not.
We’ve talked about humans method of scientific exploration and advancement involving a ridiculous amount of danger for all parties involved. But, ya know, we write it all down in a very orderly manner and get published and peer reviewed. And then other humans copy the incredibly dangerous experiment to see what happens for themselves.
Humans survived the volatile early years of their species rise through community-bonding. They put the needs of a group of individuals over all else; hunting as a group, eating as a group, raising families as a group, and sometimes dying as a group. This tendency to form strong bonds means that while a human’s signed contract can always be trusted. It also means that a human cannot be trusted to not rip that contract up and say “Fuck it” if an individual with whom they have a community-bond is in danger. Other species are baffled to discover that the individual in question need not be human, or even sapient. Stories of humans who have defended what would normally be considered prey animals by other omnivorous species, of humans who have killed to defend their non-human crew mates, even one story (surely just a story, it can’t be true) of an entire crew of humans who elevated a simple non-sapient cleaning bot to officer’s rank and threatened rebellion if it was decommissioned.
So, sure, humans are logical and awfully organized for such a diverse species. They make phenomenal bureaucrats and politicians. They’re highly sought after as strategists and advisors to royalty the galaxy over.
But, they’re also appear to take great pleasure in looking the rules dead in the eyes and very deliberately thumbing their nose as those rules. Because, the rules (and logic) say you probably shouldn’t jump off a cliff into unknown waters and humans have made multiple sports based entirely off that concept.
as an individual: logical, organized
as a species: hold my beer
I love that Stabby the robot has become part of the Canon of “human interaction with aliens”.
that’s the whole story with humans, you never know what you’re getting.
You think you’re taking on board a thoughtful rules and regs talker with no claws, fangs, horns or venom – only to discover under specific circumstances several years into your trip that your human is capable of living on nothing but salt and water for 40 days, of adapting to a life of hiding in the ships ventilation shafts, only coming out to steal supplies and make savage berserker attacks with surprisingly brutal hand-crafted weapons; capable of doing surgery on ITSELF to keep stay alive. Your crew takes some time off and you discover that your safety officer is willing to tie a stretchy rope to it’s leg and leap into an abyss for FUN. That your logical, analytical human likes to poison itself, y’know, just a little, for RECREATION. That your human can stay cool and collected for ten years and still explode at the drop of a hat.
”yeah, all calm and diplomatic for more than 2 home-star cycles, then one night we’re sitting across from a group with another human, keeps looking at our human, our human acts like it doesn’t notice. Halfway through the meal our human looks over and says “Can I help you?” and the other human just says, “No, I received all the help I need from your birther the night before this” and it took nine of us to pull them apart. They both wound up in the infirmary, there were cracked bones, stitches… I ran it through the translators three times, I have no idea; our human would only say they knew each other. Hormone readings off the chart – personally, I think it was some kind of mating behavior.”
Conversely, as an alien with a species of monsters to conquer, you hear of a planet where the inhabitants will leap naked into the ocean to kill a beast the size of an entire surface lander with a stick, and they punch holes in themselves for fashion. So you hire on a crew of these thrill-seeking murderous savages and sic them on your monster enemies only to discover that they’ve established communications with the monsters, befriended them, and are, in fact, now back to insist you cease all violent actions and that you owe the monsters for damages to their planet.
“Hey uh, Boss, so, yeah. We noticed they were having a drink, and we thought, flay-hook appendages or no, anybody who enjoys a good drink can’t be all bad… and before you know it, we’re getting drunk with a platoon of Flesh-flayers (they prefer to be called the Zygothi, by the way). The local stuff tastes like windex and farts, but boy does it get your buzz on! Long story short, though, you gotta stop killing stuff and go away. You know those things with all the legs and teeth you’ve been so frightened of are just their pets? They’re actually kind of cute as long as they’ve eaten recently. Anyway, turns out you’re in violation of several of this star system’s regulations. Plus, you destroyed a communication probe and attacked an in-system moon ferry, damages were sustained to sensitive ecosystems at your landing sites… We gave what you paid us to the families of the moon ferry victims, and volunteered to stay and see that you follow proper exit procedures. Oh, and we’re going to need you to sign this receipt of the cease and desist declaration, this copy of the bill – here, this copy is yours – and this agreement for an immediate cease contact which you’ll notice has an exclusion for payment communications you’ll have to initial, here, and again here.”
Humans are every alignment, on a single 9-sided die. Good luck aliens
See the human. See the human bond. See the human make rules. See the human break them left, right, and center.
EXCELLENT QUESTION and this post exhibits why so nicely I was thinking about it even before I read your tags – because this is science fiction at its finest: put human nature down in front of a spectacular, unfamiliar backdrop with a character who can function alternately as chorus, straight man, interlocutor, devil’s advocate, or wingman, and suddenly we can see ourselves clearly, in all our messy, contradictory glory. We love ourselves, we love getting to know ourselves, and there’s no better way to do that than put Kirk and Spock together on an alien planet and give them a fight and a few minutes to talk between blows.
If you’re going to space. You have to be prepared to fuck the aliens. Or like at least one person on your crew does I get that it’s not everyone’s thing. I’m just saying. Someone’s gotta do it.
*Me trying to have sex with an alien*
Me: may I touch that?
Alien: That is not an erogenous zone. It is a separate corporeal being that has been attached to my body for three hundred years.
Me: It’s cute. I wonder if it would let me have sex with it.
Alien: That’s exactly what I said three hundred years ago.
Let’s face it, there are two types of people: Alien fuckers And cowards
let’s face it there are two types of people:alien fuckersand cowards
^Haiku^bot^0.4. Sometimes I do stupid things (but I have improved with syllables!). Beep-boop!
yall im fucking crying i had a dream last night that aliens came to earth and they were kinda real serious like vulcans and so obviously we were all serious too trying to impress them and it was all very civil and then they saluted their leader but their salute was a fucking dab and we all lost it and nearly started a fucking war
I really want a science fiction story where aliens come to invade earth and effortlessly wipe out humanity, only to be fought off by the wildlife.
They were expecting military resistance. They weren’t counting on bears.
Imagine coming to a hostile alien world and being attacked by a horde of creatures that can weigh up to 3 tons, run at 30 km/h (19 mph), and bite with a force of 8,100 newtons (1,800 lbf).
By the time you realise that they can traverse water, it’s too late. The surviving members of your unit manage to make it back by shedding their excess gear and running for their lives; the slower ones were crushed to death within minutes.
You later describe the creature to one of the humans you captured, wanting to know the name of the monstrosity that will haunt your nightmares for cycles to come.
The human smiles as it speaks a single word, slowly and distinctly, in its barbaric tongue.
“Hippopotamus.”
This is giving me the biggest, creepiest grin I might have ever grinned
Imagine being the next crew to go down to earth and thinking “it’s fine, we got this. We have the weapons and equipment necessary to deal with bears and *shudders* hippopotamuses. We’ll be fine.”
And at first you are, you’ve learned how to dodge. You’ve learned where their territories are. You know how to defend yourself.
But then one night you are sleeping in your shelter. You’re in a tree covered temperate part of earth. It seems benign. There are been no sightings of the dreaded “hippos” around. Not even any bears. But there is a slight rustle of the undergrowth. You try and ignore it telling yourself it is just the wind.
Then you hear the rustle again. closer this time.
You peer out into the darkness but see nothing amongst the trees.
The rustle again and now you realise you can smell something. It’s musky and slightly foul. It’s the smell of an omen, a warning. But what of? Where is this smell coming from.
You sit up, but it’s too late. The foul smelling creature is on you. You are hit with 17kg of coarse fur and vicious bites. Long dark claws tear in to you and you are pinned down white the striped creature tries to bite your throat.
It takes some doing but you manage to wrestle free. Blood drips from your wounds and already they itch with the sign of infection. The creature has a bloodied snout, rust rad, mingling with the black and white hairs. It lets out a terrifying growl from the back of its throat and looks to attack again. It’s between you and your knife, so your only choice is to back away.
Eventually the creature gives up and snuffles off in to the undergrowth, down a hole near your shelter you hadn’t noticed before.
When you make it back to your base you once again consult the captive human.
“Badger.” they say, with a solemn nod.
One word: Moose
“Our vehicles are far superior to the local human models, in range, speed, armament, and any other metric you care to name! Nothing could possibly-”
BAMrumblerumblethumpcrash!!!
“That’s called a moose.”
“We should be free of the threat of the ‘moose’ here on our new floating accommodation”
*humans start sniggering*
“… they can swim, can’t they”
*humans start laughing louder*
….
*mid-winter*
‘I DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED! K’T’SURKIK WENT OUTSIDE AND A MOUND OF SNOW ROSE UP AND ATE HIM’
“What is this ‘wolverine’ you speak of?”
Tell me the story of the unpleasantly surprised alien invaders and their captive human remnant, getting more smug the more the aliens fail at basic scouting…
I know we’re all talking the big smash-‘em-up type animals, but what about the little ones? Are aliens prepared for spiders? Mosquitoes? Fleas? Ticks? Even humans get sick or die from some of those, who knows what the fuck they’d do to an unprepared alien.
Nobody expects the mosquitoes
Radio: “We seem to have located a colony-based life form. Primary scans seem to indicate that their dwelling consists mainly of wax and a calorically high substance suitable for our consumption. Since food reserves are minimal due the nature of this mission, we’ve elected to attempt harvest. Requesting that alpha base interrogate the captives as to the nature of this find.”
Aliens: “The captives seem to recognize the life form as… What was it, again?”
Human: “Bees! :-)”
Alien: *With somewhat resolved tone* “…Bees.”
Radio: *Nothing but screaming and the word: “BEES!!!”*
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSS
War of the Worlds 2: The Eukaryotes Awaken
What sort of barbaric planet is this??
Unit: “We seem to have stumbled into a ‘desert’ area, but it also seems that there is vegetation in small patches. Advise.”
Alien: “Well, human?”
Human: “…Savannah, I think.”
Alien: “A ‘Savannah’, according to the human. Is there anything else?”
Unit: “There appears to be another feral creature, similar to the ‘house cat’. It is watching from afar. Our scan indicates that it is most likely male.”
Human: “Is it a cheetah? I think it’s a cheetah.”
Alien: “It is called a ‘cheetah’. Proceed with caution.”
Unit: “Wait, it’s moving towards us – it’s much faster than we thoUAAGH-” The radio then cuts out, shortly followed by faint screams denoting many more cheetahs attacking the unit in sudden and quick succession.
I keep reblogging this, and every installment is better than the last
Alfie had planned on spending his life aiding in marine animal conservation. A quiet life. When the aliens invaded America, well… he did nothing, because he was just an ordinary Irish citizen. When they came to Europe, well… It wasn’t ideal, but mostly they let the humans carry on with whatever they were doing that they didn’t understand. Marine zoology research was one of those things. Alfie stayed in his lab and kept working. For a few months.
Until a man in a long brown coat and black glasses somehow made his way to Alfie’s work station.
“Our information tells us your locating beacons are still online.”
That was a rather cold greeting, but whatever.
“Sure they are” said Alfie.
“I work for … a certain organization … we have intrests in your work.”
subtle, Alfie thought.
“The Aliens are setting out for Iceland in a few days. We have a…collegue… acting as a guide on board.”
“So?”
The strange man grinned
“I need access to the real-time coordiates of every orca pod in the northern Atlantic”
Alfie picked up a small device from his desk and threw it at the surprised man.
“Been making this in the last months, since, y’know, no government grants to tell me what I should be doing. You have access to data for orcas, whales, even some polar bears. Sea lions. That sort of stuff. Have fun.”
The look on the Resistance man’s face was well worth the effort he’d put into that device.
I like to imagine aliens that have no concept of creative expression. Aliens that design technology only for efficiency and ease of life. Them having books and movies only to convey information. Imagine how baffled they be by humans. They’d be like “what are art museums? You just go to a building and look at pictures?” “Yeah they’re pretty!” “What do they mean?” “Art means different things to different people. It depends on the person!” And they’re just so confused. Or “why are there… why does this cellular phone, as you call it, come in multiple colors?” “Because people like different colors” “but…. why? Does the rose gold phone have a different purpose?” “No they’re all the same, just different colors” “but??????” Or my personal favorite: humans trying to explain the concept of a person having a favorite color. “Why do humans have favorite colors? Do different wavelengths of light mean different things to different people?” “No they just look pretty. I like green. Green is a pretty color.” “But why??????” “Just because.” And they’re just so perplexed and frustrated
Years of alien research over creative expression only to come to the conclusion: “humans are wack. Why are they like this. An in depth analysis by aliens”
Aliens: “These washers are identical, however one is white and one is red. After studying human color theory, I have learned that red is representative of heat, this must mean the red washer washes clothes at a higher temperature!”
So there has been a bit of “what if humans were the weird ones?” going around tumblr at the moment and Earth Day got me thinking. Earth is a wonky place, the axis tilts, the orbit wobbles, and the ground spews molten rock for goodness sakes. What if what makes humans weird is just our capacity to survive? What if all the other life bearing planets are these mild, Mediterranean climates with no seasons, no tectonic plates, and no intense weather?
What if several species (including humans) land on a world and the humans are all “SCORE! Earth like world! Let’s get exploring before we get out competed!” And the planet starts offing the other aliens right and left, electric storms, hypothermia, tornadoes and the humans are just … there… counting seconds between flashes, having snowball fights, and just surviving.
To paraphrase one of my favorite bits of a ‘humans are awesome’ fiction megapost: “you don’t know you’re from a Death World until you leave it.” For a ton of reasons, I really like the idea of Earth being Space Australia.
Earth being Space Australia
Words cannot express how much I love these posts
Alien: “I’m sorry, what did you just say your comfortable temperature range is?”
Human: “Honestly we can tolerate anywhere from -40 to 50 Celcius, but we prefer the 0 to 30 range.”
Alien: “……. I’m sorry, did you just list temperatures below freezing?”
Human: “Yeah, but most of us prefer to throw on scarves or jackets at those temperatures it can be a bit nippy.”
Other human: “Nah mate, I knew this guy in college who refused to wear anything past his knees and elbows until it was -20 at least.”
Human: “Heh. Yeah everybody knows someone like that.”
Alien: “……. And did you also say 50 Celcius? As in, half way to boiling?”
Human: “Eugh. Yes. It sucks, we sweat everywhere, and god help you if you touch a seatbelt buckle, but yes.”
Alien: “……. We’ve got like 50 uninhabitable planets we think you might enjoy.”
sparksoffandommagic 