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Bas jumping I guess and Mina
Vice Captain Hoshina Base Jumping With Mina and Bakko Kaiju No. 8 France Anime Key Visual
#ShonenJump #Anime #KN8 #KaijuNo8 #Liger
Bas jumping I guess and Mina
Humans are Weird - Crow
Commander Eighth Click saw the shadow that fell across the entrance to his office and finally glanced up with what he mostly hoped was not a threatening glare on his face. It had been a long day. The newly arrived humans had done far more damage since their arrival than even the most pessimistic engineers had predicted. It was almost as if you imported a giant bipedal species and set them loose in Winged architecture they would put stress on foundations and platforms not built for them and only hastily remodeled. Having to deal with the fourth report of a buckling undergirder this week had not put the commander in the best mood to deal with whatever was making Private Twenty-fourth Click’s footsteps drag so slowly.
As Commander Eighth Click suspected the private’s ears were drooping, his eyes were wide with some hurt, and his fur lay slack against his body. The faint hope that the private was just popping in for a moral boosting glance at his wing commander puffed out of existence.
“What is it Private Twenty-fourth Click?” Commander Eighth Click tried not to demand harshly.
The private cowered a little but started talking fast enough to show that his tongue was working fine at least, even if his wings were drooping.
“I think one of the humans is offended at me,” Private Twenty-fourth Click burst out. “I just showed him the math. I even used human calculation methods in base ten! I don’t know why that made hims so angry but now he won’t even look at me and-”
“What math?” Commander Eighth Click cut swiftly across the current of conversation, not that he expected that to be the relevant thermal, but math at least an engineering wing understood.
“He was wrong!” Private Twenty-fourth Click burst out puffing up. “It came up on the non-feedback stress tolerances discussion. It was a simple linear equation on the load-bearing side. A hornless, flightless knows that, but the human was so confident that I checked the math. I wrote it out and everything-”
The private waved the paper on his winghook vigorously.
“In base ten, yes, yes,” Commander Eighth Click redirected the drift of the conversation now that he felt he had a decent lead under his wings. “So you wrote out in detail how the human was wrong and showed him-”
“And he didn’t even make a pretense of thanking me!” Private Twenty-fourth Click sputtered out.
His nose, frilless enough to mark his genes as coming from the far north or south, positively rippled with indignation.
Commander Eighth Click heaved a massive sigh as he stared at the seething bundle of offended propriety. He found himself wondering if a human engineer would understand why that interaction might have been a touch offensive without having his horns guided into it.
Humans are Weird – Just Happy to Be There
The silence in the meeting room had stretched long past the Trisk requirement of six seconds for polite consideration and Quilx’tch was beginning to shift his paws uneasily on the floor before the chief ethical advisor final inclined one of her age shortened antenna towards him and angled her good eye down at the data pad. The movement seemed to set off a rustle of response in the vaguely bipedal form of their current motile visiting Gathering. Quilx’tch had not managed to get the name of the Gathering but was vaguely aware that he was in the presence of one of the leading experts on human ethics.
“Your complaint is that the humans are being too accommodating?” Second Grandmother asked in slow careful tones.
Quilx’tch squirmed and for the first time in his life wished it was polite to interject before she had finished her thought, or at least before the room had processed the false thread.
“No, no,” he said quickly. “It is not, not really a complaint at all. Just an observation of behavior that might raise some ethical concerns. Or perhaps not ethical, but experimentally relevant concerns about using humans as test subjects.”
The Shatar gave a thoughtful click and the bipedal shape of leaves and sticks prodded meaningfully at the display shared with the Shatar.
“Perhaps if you told us in a more natural flow than this report,” the Shatar suggested.
Quilx’tch settled back on his hind paws and waved a gripping paw in agreement as he gathered his threads.
“I have been running several active experiments on human cooking behavior,” he said. “I have mostly focused on the use of tools to mitigate the dangers of burns during daily meal preparation. This necessitated, in order to control for variables you know, having the humans come to the same communal area to prepare one meal a day rather than preparing it in their own habitations. As the study progressed I noticed that the humans were quite enjoying the study, something I naturally attributed to the social gathering aspect of a shared goal-”
The Gathering rustled up to what Quilx’tch assumed was a postural request for attention and Quilx’tch fell silent and turned his body towards the Gathering’s center of mass, stamping down a bit of irritation at the interruption.
“Social make happy sure?” the Gathering slurred out.
The Shatar cocked her antenna towards Quilx’tch in what he knew to be an offer to explain and he waved a paw at her gratefully.
“Every species except the Gathering finds social action more pleasant than solitary action,” she explained.
“As a general rule,” Quilx’tch supplied when she had indicated she was done. “Humans especially do have a desire for periods of solitude but as a whole are more cheerful in social situations.”
The Gathering hummed in what Quilx’tch took to be understanding and settled back down to a listening posture.
“It came to my attention,” Quilx’tch continued, “that the communal space camera recordings were available for perusal and thinking I might get some good data on dietary habits between planned meals and spontaneous meals I took a look at the recordings.”
“This was when you noted that the humans were happier when they were helping you with your experiment than when simply preparing meals in a social area?” The Shatar asked.
Quilx’tch gave a click of confirmation.
“I noted intensity and frequency of smiles,” Quilx’tch said, “general energy of movements, and emotive vocalizations. All increased, especially the vocalizations in the group that knew they were assisting with my study.”
The Gathering gave a gurgling attempt at speech and the Shatar translated.
“What were these emotive vocalizations you observed?” she asked.
“I have organized them into clusters of, um, huh, and mammal lung sounds one through six with decimal subset,” Quilx’tch said. “They appear to be closest in nature to fragments of attempted song. I have heard other humans refer to them as ‘happy little noises’ and they are generally treated as indicators of well being. They are less likely to manifest when humans are together, occurring mostly when an individual human is alone.”
Quilx’tch could tell when the oddity finally struck the Shatar. Her antennae curled down with interest and internalized thought as she pondered his words. The Gathering gave an opinionated shuffle and the Shatar tilted her head in cautious agreement.
“Fragments Every Argument has a point,” she said. “Individuals of every social species experiences some pleasure response when helping another individual.”
“Yes!” Quilx’tch said, perhaps a little quicker than was quite polite. “I am quite accustomed to that response. It is strongest when a human is able to feed a friend. I have tasted that pleasure response more frequently than I can record. This is different. More abstract.”
The Gathering, (Fragments Every Argument Quilx’tch reminded himself) managed to gurgle out a word with enough tone to indicate a question.
“I have asked them what the source of their enjoyment was,” Quilx’tch admitted. “Most simply stated that they did not know, two claimed that they were happy to be helpful, one, and this is what concerns me, said that he was just excited to be part of a real science experiment.”
That stuck the thought thread home Quilx’tch could see. The Shatar’s frills stiffened with attention, the Gathering gave up any pretense of maintaining a bipedal form and dropped into a pile.
“This might be a manifestation of that odd, nearly religious reverence they reportedly have for perceived scientific endeavor,” the Shatar murmured, “the one noted by the early first contact general anthropologists.”
Fragments Every Argument gave a series of rapid clicks and the Shatar responded more slowly.
“Yes, it might be some combination of the natural delight in being useful, social participation, and the reverence towards perceived science.”
Quilx’tch started quickly taking notes. There was more than a web of good ideas in what they were saying. If humans did have some base quirk of personality that made them pleased with being the subject of scientific observation it could have long term repercussions on all the scientific fields, the scientist to first describe it properly would certainly have woven his place in the web.
Humans are Weird – Recreational Use
“How long before First Father contacts us?” First Cousin asked as she arranged her favorite cushions in her sleeping nook.
Second Sister gave an amused click but didn’t bother angling her head at First Cousin. Her hands and antenna were busy arranging the positively absurd number of pharmaceutical herbal decoctions Third Father had insisted they take with them. Her fingers brushed over a textured label and she wondered what in Grandfather’s Garden he expected them to experience that would require feral lich-mould extract to treat. She put it up with the other class two toxins and reached down for a wad of dried Formica moss.
“That was a serious question,” First Cousin stated, moving over to begin pulling her datapads out of the moving container.
“He will not contact us,” Second Sister stated with an amused flick of her frill.
First Cousin gave an incredulous click as she rearranged the height of a shelf set into the wall. The base was all human right angles and corners; uot exactly unpleasant, but startlingly unnatural.
“Ultimately this is your assignment,” Second Sister reminded her, “I am just here to prevent you from doing something stupid.”
First Cousin gave a half-hearted click of protest as she began arranging her biological samples.
“It’s true,” Second Sister said. “I might be trained as a medic but we both know that I would have just hung around Fathers’ hives until First Grandmother found me a mate if you hadn’t decided that your community service requirement had to be on a death world.”
“This hardly qualifies as a death world,” First Cousin corrected her, with an irritated flare of her frill. “What happened to Second Sister Aue Tarn was an unfortunate accident and preventable-”
“With proper sanitation let alone medical care,” Second Sister said with a mildly irritated flush to her frill. “I heard the first five times you laid that argument line out for the Fathers. My point is that this is your station, not mine, and therefore First Father will not be contacting us to check in.”
Just then the comm chirped with the information that it was relaying one of the ridiculously expensive intersystem messages.
“Second Father will be,” Second Sister stated.
She was well aware that her pheromone profile was filling the air with a cloying smug fog so she gave First Cousin a cheerful wave and left her to answer the endless line of questions Second Father would no doubt have for her. This would be Second Father’s call of course. Politeness demanded that First Father not interfere, but Second Sister was aware that, just beyond the range of the home hologram projector, First Father would be hovering, waiting for her to step into frame to jump in and take his own bite of the conversation. It was only polite to leave the entire call time to First Cousin, the responsibility and therefore the stress of this assignment was hers after all. So all the fussing and soothing should be as well.
Outside of the door Second Sister flexed her legs one after the other, curling the flex all the way down to her toes. Her frill picked up the line of worried questions Second Father was stringing around First Cousin and she clicked with rueful amusement before trotting down the corridor.
The air in the common areas was surprisingly comfortable. She supposed that the base was going to be extra careful about the humidity levels after Second Sister Aue Tarn’s accident. The medical reports said she had fully regrown the amputated leg but the accompanying images of the initial infection had been rather horrific.
Second Sister followed the recently applied artificial pheromone indicators to the main observation lounge and felt her antenna stir in wonder at the sight as she stepped through the doors. The dense forest had been cleared from around the base to make the most efficient use of the local solar radiation and the light in the observation room was just on the safe side of blinding. She paused to curl and uncurl her antenna a few times as she adapted to the unnaturally bright light. Everything outside was so utterly alien. From the trees that towered like buildings to the foliage that was more yellow than green nothing was quite familiar, except for the perfectly regulation rectangular patch of local transport landing pad in front of the base.
Second Sister found her cone of attention drawn to the small symbol of civilization and control of nature. Everything else was wild, overwhelming. It seemed oddly small under the giant alien trees. Between the brilliant sunlight, the strangeness of the environment, and the relative distance it took her several minutes to discover figures moving on the landing pad. With a start she realized that the pad it self was in fact a rather large one and the figures moving around it were the base humans. She marveled at the fact that they were outside in the humidity and direct solar radiation with only the flimsiest of cloth shielding on their bodies. She flicked out her proboscis and liked at her eyes in amazement as she processed that they were not wearing protective booties on their feet, running back and forth over the rough surface of the landing pad. Something jumped in the center of the pad and generated an oddly dark cloud. The humans began to dance with delight and Second Sister licked at her eyes again as she puzzled that out.
She focused her attention on the item that had jumped. It was a large cylinder that she recognized from her safety research as one of the physical filters, meant to catch mid-sized airborne particles. They were quite advanced and one of the many items she had used to soothe her Fathers’ fears. From the color of this one it had long since reached capacity and was probably set to be set out for decomposition. Which did raise the question of what the humans were doing with it on the landing pad.
The humans had stopped their delighted dancing and one had darted over to a container and pulled something out of it. Second Sister felt a prickle of unease run over her frill as she recognized one of the symbols on the container as ‘explosive’ the other was familiar, but she had never seen this iteration of it. She was sure she had never seen it in combination with the explosive symbol.
She realized that the human had scrambled over to the filter with something from the container. The human placed the item under the filter, that was at least as tall as the human, and then scampered back. The humans were still, expectant, and then the filter jumped again, releasing a cloud of spores and dust back into the air from which it had come. The human danced with delight.
‘Recreation’ Second Sister suddenly realized. The second symbol on the container indicated something only rated for recreational use, as opposed to industrial or medical uses.
“Recreational explosives,” Second Sister murmured to herself, stepping back uneasily from the observation window.
Perhaps, perhaps she would just go have a quick, soothing word with Second Father after all.
So I have several books on various retailers, you know what they are if you've been around for more than 24 hrs. When I first uploaded them I only used the basic 6"x9" paperback format as that was the standard. Even learning how to format that was a bear of a job, and spatial reasoning *hurts* so I was pretty proud of myself.
While doing that I saw that hardcovers were a preset option so I formatted a hardcover too. It was also 6"x9" so the difference in formatting wasn't great, but the process was still painful for me. I was pleasantly surprised that the hardcovers sold so well, not often, but consistently and I was happy for the money from the sales.
Large print was also an option and is defined as a book with font from 16 to 20. Now my Grandma needs large print now so I understand the need, but to be frank I only decided to put myself through the mental stress of making a large print format of my books for the prospect of more money.
However then I noticed my first large print sale, and when I thought about it, it felt good. Someone spent the extra six bucks to purchase the large print version over the regular version. They probably needed it. So someone was made more comfortable, someone's enjoyment of life was enhanced the smallest bit, because I sat down and formatted a print version of a large font book.
It felt good.
That is all.
Humans are Weird – The Stick
Grabsforyou slipped out of the transport channel and through the flexible iris into the human sleeping pods. He paused and shook his appendages vigorously to get rid of any excess water and shuffled eagerly out of the mudroom and into the common socialization area. A warm rush of now familiar scents washed over him, though thinned by air he could still identify the traces of the friend he had come to visit. Though it was getting trickier now that Human Friend Tom (previously Tommy) had reproduced. The new Human Friend Tommy (apparently the extra syllable was an indicator of youth dropped with successful reproduction) had a very similar chemical profile to his father.
“Human Friend Tom!” Grabsforyou called out as he spotted the human examining something his offspring was grasping. “What flows in the current?”
“I found a good stick!” Human Friend Tommy interjected, waving the thing in his appendages.
Human Friend Tom nodded with a set to his face that Grabsforyou had come to understand as serious consideration.
“Tommy here was just showing me the stick he found,” Human Friend Tom agreed. “It’s a nice stick. Good and sturdy.”
“See?” Human Friend Tommy called out, wriggling his arms and shoulders in a delight filled invitation for Grabsforyou to climb up his back.
Grabsforyou gladly accepted. Human Friend Tommy had only just achieved the mass to balance easily with the weight of a full grown Undulate on his shoulders and still took great pride in providing a perch for any Undulate friend who wanted one. Grabsforyou still kept a thread of attention on Human Friend Tom’s body language for any warnings and scrambled up the short distance. Human Friend Tommy grinned as he held the stick close for Grabsforyou to feel. The Undulate obediently felt the stick. It was a detached branch from a species of tree native to the world. From it’s chemical profile it had been dead some time. It might have been one that Grabsforyou himself had tossed out of the cultivated reefs during cleaning season.
“It is sturdy,” he observed cautiously.
That word he understood. He probably could break the thing if he tried, but it would require all of his effort. Human Friend Tommy seemed satisfied with his response and began waving the stick around in a rather martial accent. Human Friend Tom indicated the table and Grabsforyou accepted the suggestion. A few more of the humans offspring, older than Tommy with more mass, came in carrying baskets of harvested berries and the younger human darted up to show them the stick as they unloaded their bounty. Grabsforyou noted with growing bemusement that the other humans were equally impressed with the stick. It was ‘straight’ (it was), it was sturdy (again), it had haft (he wasn’t sure that was a real human word).
Human Friend Mi Cha entered behind her offspring and took a moment to direct their cleaning efforts before greeting Grabsforyou. Human Friend Tommy took this as his cue to join his offspring in their work after giving his mate a kiss.
“Human Friend Mi Cha,” Grabsforyou asked when she had poured them both a cup of tea. “What precisely is so special about that stick?”
The human’s body rippled with what he had come to understand was suppressed laughter and her eye sparkled with human love light as she watched her mate and offspring.
“I think I once knew,” she said in soft tones, her body showing a touch of perplexity and regret mixed with the humor, “but if so I have forgotten. See if you can figure it out Undulate Friend Grabsforyou, then please tell me.”
Humans are Weird – Thermoclines
Rynd, mill technician third-class, specialty fermentation microecology, was trotting along, enjoying the warmth of the heated floor against his scutes when a deep gurgle of amusement pulled his nose to the side. Sprawled over a battered leather bean bag in a recreation nook, the base’s chief medical officer was blinking lazily at him while gnawing away on what had probably been the hard bun from dinner.
“Doctor Drawing,” Rynd called out with a cheerful bob of his head. “What has you sifting humor?”
“You!” the old doctor grunted out around the pulpy wad of well chewed bread he held in his teeth. “Bouncing along like a hatchling, with your tail in the air!”
Rynd might have been offended, would probably have been offended if it was any other person on the base to call him out like that, but there was only good natured humor in the doctor’s voice and his tail thumped in lazy approval against the bean bag in a way that was somehow endearing in the scuffed old officer. Besides, Rynd’s tail was pretty high in the air tonight.
“I finally got permission to share sleep warmth with Grimes!” Rynd called out, letting his paws give way to a happy shuffle.
The doctor positively grinned at that and Rynd couldn’t resent it. The old scute snout gave a few more leisurely chews on his pulpy bun wad before speaking.
“Hope you don’t mind a cold snout,” he said, before turning with a dismissive wave of his tail.
Rynd gave a perplexed grunt in reply but no further details came out of the old doctor so he turned back down the corridor towards Grimes’s sleeping chamber. He scratched at the door and a sleep slurred human voice responded. The door opened and Rynd scampered in, only to stiffen in shock as he was engulfed in a smothering blanket of cold. For a stunned moment he dropped down to the warmth of the floor and glanced around frantically for the source of the problem. There, one of the higher windows was open, letting a steady draft of cold air drift down.
“Rynd buddy!” Grimes called out, in sleep slurred tones. “Get under here. S’cold out there.”
Rynd glanced over and saw that the human was already bundled under the many insulating covers the mammal used. One massive arm was holding up a corner of the covers and letting precious mammal heat escape into the room and out the window. Rynd darted across the floor and scrambled up the side of the human’s thick sleeping pad. Grimes shifted with him, rolling to the side and dropping the heavy covers over them before grunting and near instantly dipping as deep back into dormancy as a mammal ever went.
Rynd snuggled up to the toasty mass of heat that Grimes put off and wriggled deeper into the covers. Belatedly he was recalling something about most humans preferring a fairly low ambient temperature in their sleeping spaces and a cocoon to trap their own heat. Rynd shivered at the memory of the cold draft from the window and was resolving not to leave this nice comfortable warmth cocoon until morning forced him to. That resolution held until he realized it was getting a touch difficult to breathe. He wriggled forward until just his snout was poking out of the covers. The cold air slid in and tickled his lungs. Grimes gave a soft grunt and one of his arms wrapped around Rynd, pulling them close.
Rynd balanced the positive delight of all that mammal heat against the chilly sting at this nostrils and heaved a sigh. Why couldn’t human sleep like normal people?
Author Betty Adams Books
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Betty Adams is an up and coming author with a bent for science and Sci-fi.