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Humans are Weird - Safety First

1/7/2026

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Humans are Weird - Safety First

 Revels in the Dawn had finally found a time to compost and had carefully pulled all awareness to the central forest of the region. It had been many seasons since Revels in the Dawn had first extended tendrils into this wood. Saplings had reached towering height and then died in their natural life course only for their offspring to do the same. This wild region had been in a stable equilibrium for tree-generations before Revels in the Dawn had first touched it. The native forest mind had easily accepted Revels in the Dawn and had kept on sending nutrients this way and that no matter what changed in the rest of the planet. The more motile species had accepted Revels in the Dawn’s request to leave this area untouched with cheerful acceptance, gladly accepting Revels in the Dawn’s assistance in cultivating the more equatorial sections of the planet and only posting small colonies of Rangers to observe the region and guard and maintain the local sensor stations and few scientific outpost around the deep forest. This was Revels in the Dawn’s most sacred place to compost and dream.
Therefore it was with no little annoyance that Revels in the Dawn realized what the flashed of brilliant, reflective color meant. The first clue was the sudden sprouting of interest nodes in dormant light sensitive tendrils. Something new to the experience of the Gathering had happened in the composting place, something associated with a color that did not occur naturally on this planet.
Revels in the Dawn spent a day deciding if this infraction was worth determining who was responsible and contacting them before grudgingly siding on the affirmative. Instead of settling a majority of awareness into a nice, soothing compost session Revels in the Dawn began carefully reviewing every memory node that contained the color signal. The results were perplexing to say the least. The first was a young flightless avian. The species was fairly large, a species of herbivore that subsisted on the liquid sap of the trees. Their long necks and long beaks designed to chip holes through the bark and lick out the fluid. This one had a long strap of brilliant yellow wound around its neck. The item, clearly not natural, had fallen to the forest duff and was easy to locate once Revels in the Dawn followed the color alert nodes though time.
This composting place had few motile tendrils, Revels in the Dawn had little interest in altering anything about the local environment, but with time and effort the Gathering was able to move the detritus that had fallen over the alien item. In clear current view it was easy to identify. The chemicals that had leeched out of it into the duff aided the identification. It was one of the highly reflective safety belts that the human Rangers used to make themselves more visible during low light conditions. However there were no human Rangers stationed near the composting place, and so far as Revels in the Dawn knew, no human Rangers had been granted leave for either scientific or personal travel into it.
However the avian species were known to migrate far during their sexual dispersal as they came of age. Had it been only this one ‘belt’ it was called, it might have simply been a curious example of the curious young avian getting its long neck tangled in the belt far away and dragging it into the composting place.
However there were far to many of the color alert nodes for that to be the case, and knowing the taste of the leeched chemicals Revels in the Dawn was able to quickly locate, not only more belts but also larger full ‘vests’ now littering the duff of the composting place. With growing perplexity Revels in the Dawn reviewed the visual memories. Not just the avian species, but the mammals that wandered through the deep forests on their way to the more open clearings were to be seen ‘wearing’ the reflective material. As a percentage of the populations the animals thus marked were very few, and the material degraded and fell off them quickly as it was designed to. The chemicals released into the forest were annoying but not particularly harmful.
The situation was coming into focus as simply...curious. Why would the humans feel the need to place their safety equipment, designed specially for their bodies and eyes, on the local fauna? Why was no record of this communicated to Revels in the Dawn?
Slowly extending awareness into distant memory Revels in the Dawn followed one of the larger mammals, wearing a full reflective ‘sweater’, back though the forest and days. The mammal had entered the composting forest from the south. The memory led back to the mid summer to a meadow on the edge of the nearest Ranger base that housed several humans tasked with various search and rescue operation as well as the physical maintenance of the sensor stations. As the memory stretched back it showed the mammal fleeing from the meadow wearing the sweater, then it showed one of the humans grappling the mammal, tying the ‘arms’ of the sweater around its neck and laughing as it escaped, and the human wearing the sweater while sitting with a small cluster of Rangers in the meadow.
Having found the central memory Revels in the Dawn played it over with full awareness and temporal focus. The cluster of humans lounging around the meadow. Current awareness showed that even in this colder season the smell and taste of humans lingered in the area showing recent presence. The humans in the memory chatting of various things before spotting the mammal. The sudden change in their posture from casual lounging to alert, predatory stance. One human being chosen who began to stalk the mammal. The chosen human carefully easing out of his reflective sweater as he approached the mammal and then lunging and capturing the mammal, the human pinning it with his greater mass and long limbs. The human tying the arms of the sweater around the mammal and then rolling off laughing as the animal bolted away.
Slow perusal of the memories of that meadow showed similar events happening over the course of the summer and autumn. Many times it was different humans, always it was a young male human. Revels in the Dawn considered the options available. If the issue was brought up with the base commander no doubt the behavior would stop immediately. However the animals were not being harmed, the humans seemed careful of that. The contamination of the composting forest was annoying, but hardly dangerous. Revels in the Dawn decided at last to enter a composting phase and to decide in that what course of action to take. Why mature humans would put so much effort into something so apparently pointless was an interesting question, but not worth interrupting high quality rest.   
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Humans are Weird – Twister

12/30/2025

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​ Humans are Weird – Twister



It was really too warm for any of them in the sealed cab of the transport. Touchesinturn let the majority of his mass slump against the cool surface of the window even as his lagging appendages drifted in the soothing heat of the water of his travel sack. The soothing sound of Human Friend Bobby Joe’s snoring from the front of the cab drowned out the faint whine of the gravity repulsors that really should have been sent in for maintenance several weeks ago. The taste of human sweat nearly saturated the cab. Shatar Friend Second Sister was perched in the driving couch, occasionally flicking her proboscis out to take a sip from a cold drink. It really was too warm for any of them, but it had been a long, hard day salvaging shipwreck scrap in the rocky reefs. A long, cold, hard day of work, with appendages needing to be free to grasp and pull, needing to be exposed to the cold, cold seawater and none of the sophants on the crew seemed quite ready to drop the ambient temperature.
There was a jolt as one of the overworked repulsors gave a complaint about the local gravity well and the rhythm of Human Friend Bobby Joe’s snores caught, and stopped. One massive shoulder, all Touchesinturn could see around the human couch, heaved up and then down. The distinctive smacking of dry human lips sounded, followed by a mildly distressed grunt. One long, jointed gripping appendage waved into sight lifting straight up towards the various tools swinging from the ceiling attachment points. Shatar Friend Second Sister Tilted her triangular head to watch with mild interest as the arm bent in that weird angular arrangement that spoke of internal rigidity at the central joint and the half extended fingers began to arc back into the rear compartment of the cabin. The arm began to twist however in a way that belied a single great bone and Touchesinturn felt his own appendages perk up in interest.
Human Friend Bobby Joe clearly wasn’t in any sort of pain. The sound of his breathing was too regular. The taste of his pheromones was too even. Most of all the work roughened stripes of his hands and arms glowed with health. However there was no way a single great internal support was allowing the muscles and veins visible under his external membranes to twist like that. Touchesinturn was reasonably sure that humans had one solid bone in each half of their arms and legs. At least, that is what he vaugely recalled from the emergency health and safety portion of their training back on the orbital station. However the training had been rushed as they were all reasonably experienced scrapers and there was a lot of time sensitive salvage to be doing.
As he watched the hand roaming and grasping with mild interest Shatar Friend Second Sister flicked an antenna to get his attention. He signaled her that she had it and she pointed the antenna at the water cylinder beside his transport sack. Touchesinturn suddenly understood. Human Friend Bobby Joe was looking for his drink. Instead of simply shifting his center of mass the few inches it would take to twist around and bring his eyes onto the rear compartment he was trying to use his spatial memory and tactile sense to find the item. Touichesinturn felt a wave of amused fondness and reached out to nudge the drink container closer to the arc of space Human Friend Bobby Joe’s hand was exploring. On the next sweep the human’s fingers brushed the cylinder and his forearm gave a sudden and extreme twist that definitely defied the ‘one bone’ concept. There were clearly two bones, and they were at least somewhat twisty.
His hold secured on the cylinder Human Friend Bobby Joe began lifting it straight up rather than forward into the cab and began taking it in a long sweeping motion away from his own mass. This, Touchesinturn was sure, was one of the actual limitations of that internal skeleton. Suddenly, with a slight pop, the lid of the container popped off. Both Touchesinturn and Shatar Friend Second Sister watched in mild interest, ready to offer assistance. Touchesinturn was reasonably sure that Human Friend Bobby Joe would have to untwist his forearm to get the container to a position that he could pour it into his mouth, and that twisting motion would certainly cause the contents to spill.
Human Friend Bobby Joe gave a disgruntled , wordless noise but didn’t request assistance. Instead he began a slow, careful series of movements, testing the limits of his movement while not spilling the now open container. His movements kept hitting that limit enforced by his twisty bones. Finally the human set the container down in a crook of the drivers couch, untwisted his now free arm and hand, and reached down to pick up the container in triumph. Quickly followed by the sounds of a human gulping down liquid.
Touchesinturn leaned back against the window. However Shatar Friend Second Sister had angled her head as if to get the human’s attention.
“That was not the most efficient way to do that,” she pointed out.
“So?” Human Friend Bobby Joe replied. “We in some kind of hurry?”
Another repulsor gave the transport a little bump and the Shatar flicked her frill in a non-committal reply.
“How many bones do you have?” Touchesinturn asked in sound.
Apparently that question warranted moving his center of mass because Human Friend Bobby Joe heaved himself up and leaned around the couch to squint at Touchesinturn.
“How many what do I have?” the human demanded, his colors flushing with surprise, as if Touchesinturn had asked something strange.




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Humans are Weird – Streak

12/22/2025

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 Humans are Weird – Streak



“Engineer Fiss’stk?” came the latest interruption just as Fiss’stk almost had the tricky spring in the correct position.
He felt the spring dislodge from it’s position and shoot away on every hair as he lost concentration in his paws. Fiss’stk let the seconds drag out as he followed the track of the spring with his primary eyes until it dissapeared into his visual horizon. Fiss’stk inflated his lung with a deep breath and rotated his mass to bring his primary cone onto his fluffy, well meaning, not-at-all irritating apprentice.
“Yes Ktktk’kt?” he responded, he was pretty sure his tone wasn’t at all bristly.
“Don’t human women tend to keep their, I forget their name, but the secondary sex characteristic that is so bouncy and round, don’t they keep them covered?”
Fiss’stk fought down the bristle of irritation and tried not to mentally calculate the value of that spring as he wrestled with what-by-the-web his apprentice might have been talking about.
“I believe that human females are very mindful in general about keeping various body parts covered,” he said, “but that is very context dependent. For instance, in saunas-”
“Yes, yes,” his apprentice interrupted – actually interrupted! - him. “But I mean in open public spaces.”
“Yes,” Fiss’stk clicked out, knowing he sounded bristly this time. “Human females make it a point to keep covered with weave fabric in public, in this culture at least. Now -”
“Then why is this one uncovered?” Ktktk’kt demanded, shoving a distance viewer at him.
Fiss’stk felt the situation shift under his paws as what was clearly a very distress human came into his focal area. He had seen her around with her family, several fluffy little hatchlings and her mate, though he didn’t know her name.
“She is distressed!” Ktktk’kt pointed out. “I suspected as much from her public lack of social cover, but-”
“Please be silent while I determine if she is fleeing from or chasing something,” Fiss’stk said, and if he felt a bit of satisfaction at interrupting the fluffy little climber that was hardly relevant. He was pondering if he should call base security when the human suddenly lunged forward and down and snatched at something that was out of their line of sight behind a shrubbery line used for air purification, food growth, and ornamentation. Her displayed muscles tensed and bulged in that mammalian way that they would, and Fiss’stk say Ktktk’kt flinch in horror, but that quickly changed to relief as the human’s effort resulted in her pulling a fully naked infant human into sight and clasping it to her exposed upper half.
“I see!” Ktktk’kt said with relief. “She was merely perusing a hatchling who had escaped in a dangerous area.”
“Indeed,” Fiss’stk agreed after the polite six seconds. “I believe that it mentioned in my report that the damaged relays we are supposed to be repairing have been causing interruptions in the humans normal bathing facilities. Many have had to use share communal facilities. Which, as I was saying,” he angled his primary eyes accusingly at his apprentice, who had the grace to shuffle his hind-paws in embarrassment. “is a socially normative place for humans to leave more of their bodies uncovered. The derangement of their usual behavior probably led to the little one escaping to explore and therefore it’s mother to chase after it for safety.”
His apprentice gave a humble gesture of acknowledgment, both of the cultural information and the implied critique, and shuffled awkwardly on his hind-paws.
Fiss’stk felt a touch of sympathy for the fluff legs and drew in a long breath.
“It was right of you to interject if you thought the human was in danger or distress,” Fiss’stk said. “You preformed well.”
Ktktk’kt danced with delight at the praise and Fiss’stk felt irritated again.
“And now we have to go back to central and find a replacement because that was our last relay spring,” Fiss’stk said, gesturing in the general direction the previous one had disappeared.
“Why does this base still use springs?” Ktktk’kt asked as they began packing up their tools.
Fiss’stk didn’t bother waiting the polite six seconds. He did not need to hear yet another apprentice waxing poetic about the many, far more advanced ways they could set up the relays.
“Because springs work,” he said curtly, “and they are universally easy for sapient species to understand. Like how we all understand that chasing your hatchlings when they are in a dangerous environment overrides almost all merely social conventions. Your hatchling is in danger, you rescue them even if you end up showing the general population more of you than you rather like to, you push the spring, it pushes back. Simple concepts. Easy to understand.”
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Humans are Weird - Mockery

12/15/2025

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Humans are Weird - Mockery

 Gudgeon shifted the small-loaf he was chewing to a more comfortable position against his hind-teeth and heaved himself up against the safety railing that was just a little too high. Even at his full, hind-paw, height, he was just able to stick his head through the observation gap that marked the halfway height of the rail. Below him spread out the semi-sterile space the local human population used to clean their clothes in the traditional water-soak method. Gilbert Raymond, a local grainer with a small clutch at home was muttering to himself as he scrambled around the floor on all fours.
Gudgeon paused his chewing to hear the human’s voice better.
“...mocking me. That must be it. No other solution.” The human was growling out in irritated tones as he flattened himself out to shove his already long, flat fore paws under one of the machines.
He twisted and contorted his body comically before giving a satisfied grunt and wriggling backwards. Gripped tightly between the tips of his long fingers was a single sock, so small that it was clearly for the protection of his youngest hatchling’s toes. The human glared at the sock for a long moment before heaving his long, bipedal body upright. Swaying ever so slightly as humans did Gilbert scowled at the cleansing machine and shook his fist at it as if threatening violence.
“Don’t think for one moment that I don’t know what is going on here!” He growled. “You just want to make a fool of me in front of my wife. You would have spit this thing out instantly if she were here yesterday!”
The human waved the small sock in his other hand.
“Well! I am on to you! There will be no more of this! You will produce the socks in pairs as I wash them or else…” The human paused and wrinkled his soft face as if considering what would be an effective threat to a cloth cleansing machine. “There will be consequences!” The human finally settled on, before gathering up the basket of clothes and carrying it out of the room.
Gudgeon watched the human leave and began slowly chewing the remains of his small-loaf again. He dropped down to all fours and walked slowly out of the space until he came to a wall mounted comm unit. He heaved himself up on his hind legs and activated the link to his friend in the local mechanics group.
“Gudgeon!” his friend greeted him with delight, after wiping no small amount of machine lubricant off of his face so he could see. “What drives you to call me this time of day?”
“The cloth cleansing machines the human’s use,” Gudgeon replied.
“Did they slip a gear?” his friend asked in a skeptical tone.
“No, I just have a question about them,” Gudgeon assured him. “What level of communication are their computing systems capable of?”
“Hardly none!” his friend grunted dismissively. “The whole systems from tub to rotates was designed to be as simple as possible. The seals they use to keep the water in have more joints than the instructional gears.”
“Your gassing me,” Gudgeon said.
“A tooth or two,” his friend admitted with a little gurgle of amusement. “But just by the tips. Those are very simple machines. Built to do one job and do it well.”
“So they are not capable of acting with malicious intent?” Gudgeon asked.
His friend gave a proper belch of laughter.
“They aren’t capable of intent, free the gear!” He said.
“Curious,” Gudgeon muttered.
“Have you been brewing human nonsense again?” his friend asked.
“Perhaps,” Gudgeon admitted with an amused grunt. “But such brews are always better shared.”

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Humans are Weird – Tumble

12/12/2025

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 Humans are Weird – Tumble

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The woofing sound of human laughter chased Lungesup down the hill again and caught up with her as Human Friend Susie’s mass flopped over her in a mass of confusing, but joyful movements. The comforting weight of a smaller than average human pressed Lungesup down into the soft soil the humans called turf. The bright green ground cover cushioned the force of the dryland gravity and off-gassed delightful chemicals as their weight crushed it.
“Again!” Human Friend Susie called out as she gathered her four main appendages under her and sprang up to her usual bipedal stature.
Lungesup gave a hum of agreement and took a further moment to stretch and watch Human Friend Susie leap up the hill, against the gravity, with long, bouncing strides.
“What fantastic strength,” Lungesup observed.
Just then a Shatar, elderly by the graying at the edges of her long frill and seemingly shortened antenna, stepped out of the nearest building. Her broad triangular head was tilted to observe her data pad, and while the display was not clear to Lungesup at this distance it did seem to be displaying some kind of tracking display. Lungesup lingered at the base of the small hill in case the Shatar was tracking her. It was possible the tall inscetoid was looking for someone else but there were few resources on this side of the University wall to attract students or researchers.
As the Undulate had expected the Shatar quickly approached and soon turned her attention cone away from the tracking display and began trotting towards Lungesup with confident speed in her four legs.
“Greetings First Astronomer,” the Shatar called out. “I am Second Grandmother Segunda Proxima Hive.”
“Greetings Second Grandmother Segunda Proxima,” Lungesup replied. “Can I assist your drift in some way?”
“Yes,” the Shatar said, her short antenna relaxing, “I have just arrived to test for the position of Fifth Astronomer. I was informed that there would be an observatory located in a garden for me to use with Second Grandfather present.”
“Oh yes!” Lungesup said when she paused. “The one Human Friend Bertram built. He then grew a rose maze around it for the ‘romance’ I believe he called it. Do you find it meets your needs?”
“We do not,” Second Grandmother Segunda Proxima said with a grim set curling her antenna. “For one these ‘rose’ vines hardly reach over our antenna, and even in the places that they do meet in high enough arches they hardly block out a tenth of the solar radiation.”
“I sound your problem,” Lungesup said with concern. “Perhaps the thorns are a problem too now that I drift with that current.”
“Yes,” the Shatar said in what might have been a dry tone, Lungesup wasn’t quite certain, “the wood-hard spikes as long as my finger is thick with needle sharp tips are perhaps a problem.”
“Well,” Lungesup said. “That is our only garden with a built in observatory. However it will be fairly easy to modify one of the – what is wrong?”
The Shatar had suddenly gone stiff with horror and then sprinted forward a few unds, and then danced sideways, her frill straight out from her neck and her antenna arched with attention.
“The human has fallen from the top of the hill!” Second Grandmother Segunda Proxmia burst out. “She falling down- I can’t help her – too much mass-”
The Shatar paused and her abdomen expanded.
“I will apply first aid as soon as she stops falling. You call the medics to come quickly from the clinic-”
“No, I don’t think I will,” Lungesup said, trying not to wiggle with amusement at the display of stress, which was very touching after all.
The Shatar paused and rotated her head so far that Lungnesup was genuinely worried it might fall off.
“The human is in no danger,” Lungesup explained. “It is a controled decent. We have both done this several times already today.”
The Shatar turned to observe the human who was making good times down the hill towards them, and the Shtatar rotated her head just as far the other direction.
“Her vertical axis is horizontal!” Second Grandmother Segunda Proxmia finally managed to speak. “She is rotating around it! Her limbs-”
Lungesup waited politely until she was sure the Shatar had finished speaking.
“Her limbs are quit sturdy enough for this,” she said, shuffling over to pat the Shatar’s leg reassuringly. “Humans are quite sturdy you know.”
The human in question had ceased her rotational motion several unds from them and gave one final flop to land on her back. She then lay there laughing up at the sky.
“Sound that laugh,” Lungesup said, feeling her appendages curl in delight. “That is a happy human.”
“Human bodies are not supposed to move like that,” the Shatar said with faint horror.
“And yet they do,” Lunges up said. “And they put thorns in gardens so they can bask in solar radiation. Now, shall we sort out getting you and your mate a proper garden without those things.”

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Humans are Weird – Spooky

12/6/2025

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​ Humans are Weird – Spooky

Twistunder shuffled his appendages against the dry, dry curve of the shuttle and tried to ignore the chrono-display on the cabin wall. The steady rotation of the central sphere and the subtle alteration in the light only served to remind him of how long it would be before it would be responsible to take his next soak. Even then the water on the shuttle tasted of sterile ionization, but it was water. Twistunder reached out and switched the readout in front of him to the next page. The information was more than interesting, it was tide-turning news in the Survey Corps’ understanding of the migration patterns they were studying.
Twistunder shifted again and wondered why Human Friend Mack Dodge had left the main cabin. Having even one human present was enough to raise the ambient moisture in the air significantly, but this was the only room where it was warm enough for that to be useful. With another irritated prod at the dry floor Twistunder shuffled away from the interesting report and began hunting through the shuttle for the human. Of course he could have just commed Human Friend Mack Dodge, or asked the system where the human’s comm signal was coming from, but it was going to be a long acceleration back to the base and a hunt was a sort of entertainment. Sort of.
Twistunder far too quickly, found Human Friend Mack Dodge sitting cross-legged in the open observation deck at the top of the shuttle. The human appeared to have paused halfway through stripping out of his drift-suit and was staring out at the space ahead of them. Twistunder happily noted that the surfaces of the shuttle were noticeably more moisture rich hear and shuffled up beside the human.
“Beautiful,” the human said in a low tone but there was something uneasy in the sound that drew Twistunder’s attention out, away from his own discomfort. The human’s half dressed state left enough of his skin visible to give Twistunder a good look at how the human’s internal light danced over his stripes and the Undulate gave a concern hum.
Human Friend Mack Dodge was a very, very particular species of frightened. It was a kind that Twistunder had observed just often enough to recognize, though he had hardly begun to sound its depths. The human was seeing, or might be perceiving thought any sense really but seeing made the most sense in the context of the observation level, something that resembled on of his particular culture’s superstitions. Such situations gave the human lights a strange pattern, will and focus overpowering often genetically driven fear. Twistunder gave himself a shake and climbed into Human Friend Mack Dodge’s lap.
The human dropped a hand and gave him an absent pat, but did not change the vector his eyes indicated. Twistunder spread his leading appendages and absorbed the light of the nebula. Ahead of them the orange golds of the nebula gasses were cut through the the transits of hundreds of spacecraft. There were none on the sensors now, this was a slack time for travel, but enough passed this way on a regular basis that the path was visible as a corridor of thinner gasses. At the moment their own shuttle was passing through one of the sections where the lesser space whales’ migration path crossed this corridor. It was unquestionably visually interesting, with the twisting clouds of excrement catching the light in opalescent shapelessness, and there was a very real, if statistically improbable chance of a collision with a space whale. However that was a simple physical danger, and Human Friend Mack Dodge’s nervous system barely seemed to register those.
Though he knew their vastly different visual systems made it a difficult task Twistunder focused on what would be the most striking visual in the scene to the human. Of course he could just ask. Their relationship was close enough that Twistunder was confident that Human Friend Mack Dodge would be at least as honest with him as he was with himself. But where was the fun in a simple question when you might startle your friend with your observational abilities.
The most interesting thing in the otherwise empty corridor of space was the clouds of space whale ‘poo’ as the humans called it. The space whales excreted their waste in long, fibrous strands from two glands on the lagging ends of their bodies. A very recent discovery in fact. This resulted in two, closely spaced tubes that evaporated and gradually separated over time in the stillness of space. As the waste matter aged, much of it caught the gentle solar winds of the region and spread out in an effect not unlike the thin fog that formed over water on a cool day. The main two strands expanded and separated from each end, remaining attached at the center. Those same solar winds catching the loose ends and causing them to sway gently. The resulting shape was, Twistunder noted with a sudden trickle of inspiration, of a very similar shape and ratio to the bilateral symmetry of a human body. In fact…
“If you discount color and density,” Twistunder observed out loud, causing Human Friend Mack Dodge to jump slightly, “The space whale poo bears some resemblance to a human body.”
“You see it too?” Human Friend Mack Dodge asked, his heart rate accelerating and his colors flushing with relief and increased uneasiness both. “You never heard a humans say it first?”
“I have never heard a human say such a thing no,” Twistunder affirmed.
Human Friend Mack Dodge gave a laugh and made a weak attempt to adjust his position.
“Spooks is what they look like,” he said, still staring out at the scene.
“What are spooks?” Twistunder asked.
“Imagine,” Human Friend Mack Dodge said softly, “imagine if you took all the energy of a person. Their thoughts, their will, their actions and after they died you all that energy just, escaped the body and went wandering. That is what those spooks would look like to us.”
“Fascinating,” Twistunder said, taking the thought in his appendages and rotating it. “And when your explorers came upon the first space whale spoors it caused the speculation of these ‘spooks’?”
Human Friend Mack Dodge gave a short bark of laughter.
“No Twist, we brought the spooks with us from our home world. The idea was already there when the first poor spacer caught sight of one of those giant, body shaped figures moving past his port.”
“This idea is not pleasant to you,” Twistunder observed.
“Spooky is kind of by definition not pleasant,” the human admitted.
“They why do you choose to be here in the cold observation nook while we pass through the spooky area-” Twistunder paused as a memory drifted down to him, “and why did you choose this corridor through the nebula. There was an equivalent route available?”
Human Friend Mack Dodge laughed and unfolded his legs.
“Because sometimes something a little spooky is just what a man wants,” he said.
Twistunder processed that through the distraction of the movement.
“You enjoy being frightened?” he finally asked.
“When it’s like this,” Human Friend Mack Dodge said gesturing out the observation bubble. “Opalescent figures dancing along a black road studded with diamond stars and the softly glowing orange of the nebula laced through with the ebony of deep space beyond. It’s beautiful, eerie, I like it.”

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Humans are Weird - Reaction

11/28/2025

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Humans are Weird - Reaction

 Humans are Weird – Reaction


Excited clicking flowed down the pathway ahead of the youngest members of the wing. The gliding thermals of the homeworld forbid any officer call them fluffy, but they were, Wing Commander Eighth Trill mused as the speakers swept forward and landed around him, bouncing with eagerness.
“Do you want to see the human jump?”
“He’s obviously terrified.”
“But there’s no threat!”
“Did it to himself!”
“Might share the food with us if he notices us!”
“But he can’t notice us before the alert!”
The speakers paused for a beat and Wing Commander Eighth Trill sighed and carefully placed the paper notes he was examining in his satchel.
“Very well,” he said. “Let’s go watch the human jump.”
There was a wave of trills as the youngsters took off, and an equally intense wave of sighs as many horned elders behind him stretched off of their perches.
“How did we ever get in a stream with this big of an age distribution gap?” the Wing Second muttered as he took off.
“That is for the university to determine,” the Wing Commander replied. “And be honest, aren’t you a little curious to see what makes the human jump?”
“Maybe a little,” the Wing Second agreed in a grumbling tone.
They exited the pathway and flew out into the cavernous reaches of the human communal spaces. Which human the youngsters were talking about was immediately obvious. There were three humans in the space, but two of them were sprawled out sleeping on the ‘couches’. The only currently mobile human was a male in the center of the food preparation area. The absurdly long mammal was bracing the fatty portion of his center point against the lip of the preparation surface. Every muscle in the human’s body was stiff with tension. His eyes were flicking back and forth over the various items and foodstuffs on the preparation surface, but kept coming back to the light display that was blinking on the surface of one of the heating units.
“Fifty-five seconds left!”
“Watch, watch, watch!”
“He should know!”
“He does know!”
“He set the timer!”
The youngsters were chittering deliberately too high for the human to hear and the medic scolded them for rudeness. They argued the point long enough that Wing Commander Eighth Trill thought he might actually be the only one who was watching the human directly when the timer-countdown reached zero. As predicted the human twitched violently,, his arms coming up as if to protect his hears from the sound, which was rather harsh, before he lunged at the heating unit. The human’s thick finger fumbled the the first touch and then jabbed at the control surface a second time before successfully silencing the alert. The sound eliminated the human heaved a sigh of relief and glanced over at his sleeping companions.
“Maybe he is concerned about the quality of the other humans’ sleep?” the medic suggested.
“It’s not their sleep cycle,” Wing Commander Eighth Trill replied, truly curious now.
“Besides, we’ve seen him throw boots at sleeping wingmates!”
There was a ripple of laughter as the flight watched the human remove his food from the heating unit.
“Oohh, is that?”
“That’s meat!”
“Juicy meat!”
“Fluff your fur! It’s time to beg!”
The youngsters, apparently not minding being sen as fluffy when there was food on the offer, flitted down to catch the eye of the human. Wing Commander Eighth Trill felt his ears twitch.
“Why does the human find the timer so stressful?” the medic grumbled.  
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Humans are Weird - Bigger

11/17/2025

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Humans are Weird - Bigger

 “The extraction process is very involved,” Second Sister explained as she pulled out the beautiful little canister.
Second Father and the first three Cousins had spent the entire growth season designing the shape, the patterns, and the scent profile of the containers to be pleasing to both humans and Shatar. They had decided on a shape roughly the size of the seed pods that produced the products the containers held, with concessions for making it able to sit evenly in the flat surface of a human cupboard. The surface was etched with representations of the leafs and flowers of the plant.
“Oh! This is nice!” Sift exclaimed and she heaved herself up on her hind legs and sniffed at the container. “And you say you managed to distill the volitiles without sacrificing the nutrient profile?”
“It is not a distillation process per se,” Second Sister corrected her. “It is more a-”
“What is that smell?” a human voice suddenly demanded, “It is delicious!”
“Mary!” Sift called out, “Come flick your tongue over this! The Shatar have developed a simply delightful scented nutrient blend just in time for harvest gifts!”
Mary came over, balancing her single hatchling on her wide, round hips. She looked eagerly at the items that Second Sister showed her, but visibly lost interest when it was explained that the fluid was meant to be applied topically.
“This looks interesting,” Mary said as she swayed her towering form away from them with an apologetic bob of her very round head. “But I came to get the snacks I stored in the community fridge.”
“Is your little one eating solid foods yet?” Second Sister asked, tilting her triangular head in interest even as she carefully placed the container back in the basket.
“Nope!” Mary announced as she bent herself around both the very, very plump baby on her hip so she could reach into the low refrigeration unit provided for day use in this community space. “These are snacks for me! I have the nursing munchies you know!”
“Yes,” Second Sister observed, falling silent a moment and resting her hands on her basket as she examined Mary, tilting her head this way and that.
Mary happily munched down on the layers of bread, protein, and leafy greens she had brought from her home-nest, seemingly unconcerned with the scrutiny. Granted most of the human’s attention was given to preventing her little one from snatching the snack for himself. Finally the Shatar straightened and gave an attention click. Mary glanced at her with a smile rounded by the food in her mouth.
“Are you larger by mass than you were last time I was in this area?” Second Sister finally asked.
Mary paused in her chewing and blinked rapidly.
“Oh!” Sift exclaimed. “Yes, Shatar don’t really understand proper chewing. Don’t worry Mary I can answer this one for you, just focus on enjoying that bread!”
“You smell,” Sift said turning to the Shatar, “When a female has to carry their offspring inside of them, the joined zygote stage you know, well that takes a lot of energy. We reptile types don’t do that nearly as long as a mammal but we still have to prepare, our bodies I mean, metabolically.”
“How do you know so much as to answer for a human?” Second Sister asked.
“A reasonable question,” Sift commented, “and that is actually why I have been spending so much time with Mary and her family. I wanted to observe the process of, well I think you Shatar would say watching a First Sister become a First Mother.”
Second Sister curled an antenna to show she was following.
“The point is that in order to reproduce inside yourself you need a lot of stored energy, just in case something goes wrong an you can’t eat because of localized food shortages or even gastric illness,” Sift went on. “The solution is to build up fat deposits. Very easy if you don’t have an exoskeleton to worry about having to shed. My mother, at least my father says so, though he is biased naturally-”
“Naturally,” agreed the Shatar with an amused set to her mandibles.
“He says she had the fattest tail in the colony by the time my clutch was laid, and it stayed that way so that she had to deliberately exercise it off after we were walking!”
Sift felt her throat puff up a little in pride at the memory.
“But isn’t Human First Mother Mary finished with this reproductive cycle?” Second Sister asked.
“No, no, no!” Sift exclaimed. “She is a mammal remember! She is burning copious calories producing all that milk from her mammary glands! Her body won’t let her mass go down until that stage is well over. Until then her thighs are going to be round and plump! Humans have no external tail you know, so they can’t store it there.”
Mary finished chewing the sandwich and gave them a smile as she arranged her child on her hip.
“A fine explanation,” she said to Sift. “Caio friends!”
Second Sister watched the human leave and her frill rippled uneasily.

“Did we offend Human First Mother Mary?” she asked.
“Not that I saw,” Sift replied. “Why do you ask?”
“Her pheromone profile shifted dramatically during our conversation,” Second Sister said. “I am not very familiar with human pheromones but hers did seem offended.”
“Well if she was, it almost certainly didn’t have anything to do with us,” Sift assured her. “Personal knowledge informs me that Mary is very open to my discussing her biology, and why would any thinking person be offended by a discussion of how successful her body was at supporting her offspring?”
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Humans are Weird – Touch Down

11/8/2025

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​ Humans are Weird – Touch Down

 “That is the seventh,” Third Sister said with a satisfied click as she marked the video feed on her screen with a timestamp.
“Show it to me! Show it to me!” First Brother cried out, all four feet dancing with eager delight.
Third Sister clicked with amusement and squatted down so he could see how she was marking the time and occurrence.
“He twitched and frowned and brushed it off!” First Brother stated eagerly.
“Quite, and as proof I am now saving it to upload to the hive network here,” she explained as she demonstrated.
“So all the Sisters who wanted to can do their bets?” First Brother asked.
“No,” Third Sister corrected him, “the Sisters and Aunts placed all their bets before I started this recording. That makes it fair.”
“Oh! Because it’s already been seven times!” First Brother exclaimed. “Everyone would want to change their bets to bigger numbers.”
He paused, rocking back and forth on his legs, before titling his pale green head to the side.
“What did you bet?” He asked.
“As an official I cannot ethically participate in the betting,” Third Sister stated.
“Second Sister made you do this so she could bet?” First Brother asked.
Third Sister’s antenna coiled in annoyance.
“Be still,” she said, “the detritavore is approaching Human Brother Unicus again.”
First Brother made a valiant effort to be still as they both turned their attention, and Second Sister turned her recording tablet on the massive male human who was sprawled out across a rock, basking in the weak solar radiation available in this hemisphere at this time of the year. He had shed over half of his usual clothing to more efficiently catch the radiation he needed for critical nutrient formation displaying the fact that the majority of his body was covered in thick, black sensory hairs. While most humans had such hairs in Third Sister’s experience she had never seen such density.
Fortunately for her purposes Human Brother Unicus had felt the time pass heavily and was reading to
amuse himself. His focus on the reading material left him not only unaware of their presence but particularly susceptible to the events they were here to record.
A local flying insect, as large as Third Sister’s thumb and sporting a brilliant iridescent sheen was slowly circling its way through the air towards Human Brother Unicus. The “winter flies” a the humans called them, were carnivorous detritavores, waking in the cold portions of the hemisphere feed and breed.
“When do you think he is going to scream though?” First Brother asked.
“I do not think he will,” Third Sister stated. “He is much to large a human to emit a scream in a non-life threatening situation. He will grunt loudly. It is all a human with such a massive chest cavity can manage.”
“Why are humans so freaked out about the winter flies anyway?” First Brother asked as Third Sister timestamped the creature’s final approach.
“It is an instinctive avoidance of disease transmission,” Third Sister explained. “One of us responds much the same way if the coating on our outer membrane starts to fail.”
First Brother paused his near constant movement and tilted his head at her in perplexity.
“They are afraid they will get sick if the winter flies touch them,” Third Sister tried again, “and it is a smart thing to be afraid of.”
At that moment the insect touched down on the particularity dense hairs on the human’s thick arm and every visible muscle on the human seemed to undergo a spasm. He leap up from his perch, slapped the patch of skin the insect had touched, and gave a loud, high-pitched distress sound.
“Looks like it was good you didn’t bet!” First Brother said, dancing sideways in his amusement.
Third Sister didn’t dignify that with a response as she dutifully logged the response.
“He is getting the portable insect repellent field generator out of his bag,” she said. “We can gather no more data here.”
“Why didn’t he get out the generator when he first got to the rock?” First Brother asked as they trekked back to the main hive.
“I do not know,” Third Sister replied.
“Why didn’t he get the generator out after the first time the winter fly landed on him?” First Brother pressed.
“I do not know,” she said again.
“Why didn’t he slap at the fly any of the previous times it touched-”
“First Brother,” Third Sister interjected abruptly. “Are you genuinely asking me these questions or do you just want to ponder into the canopy?”
First Brother paused and pondered over that a moment.
“Ponder into the canopy!” he finally decided before skipping along the trail again. “The hive knows that humans don’t make sense so I know you can’t answer.”
Third Sister watched him trot down the trail with amusement before following.
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Humans are Weird – After

10/29/2025

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 Humans are Weird – After

 The alarms always would go off just as one’s scutes molded nicely to the sleeping rock. Commander Pulp heaved a sigh and began the laborious process of peeling his eyes open. He had been reasonably sure he had washed all the grain dust out of his scales before settling down for the short night, but as he began twitching his limbs in preparation for sliding to the floor he could swear he felt grit in his seams. He wished the alarms could be a less annoying sound, but that thought was cut short by a distant twang and following thump that had him instantly awake and on the cold floor, blinking wide open eyes rapidly as he scrambled for the comm unit. He hovered his forepaw over it hesitatingly as a massive series of thumps vibrated the floor.
“The night watch will have this,” Commander Pulp grumbled to himself as he turned and darted for the door.
Answering an unnecessary comm call in the middle of an emergency would not help whoever was dealing with this, a moving body might. Commander Pulp made it to the largest storage annex before he located the source of the sound. The massive storage bags of blood grain, the ones being prepared for shipment to the more distant colonies and space stations in this solar system were currently being dried. They were suspended in a vast, climate controlled barn, on thick cords. It was a primitive method, with obvious hazards, but the more explosive dangers of using repulsor tech in enclosed environments with dedicated grain dust were deemed the grater risk. All this ran through Commander Pulp’s mind as he took in the scene of the tumbled bags of grain, the tangled rigging cables, and the human with his back pressed against one bag, a long leg trapped under another, and his hands holding a taught cable off of his exposed neck.
Commnader Pulp bit his tongue as the urge to bellow out orders bubbled though his gut. The night watch was doing a wonderful job, had already responded just as Commander Pulp would have. His interference as commander would only confuse things. It came as a palpable wave of relief when the night watch officer roared out that it was safe and whoever was closest should go help the trapped human escape.
Commander Pulp dashed forward across the floor, the grain dust catching in his claws. He had never really realized, never thought about how utterly fragile a human neck was. They didn’t even have scutes to protect that thin tube of cartilage that served as both oxygen exchange and feeding tube. He reached Grimes and the human rolled his eyes to give him a grim smile. Commander Pulp quickly shoved his snout under the straining cable and wriggled forward until it rested on his shoulders.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Grimes whispered as his hands relaxed and he slumped back against the grain bag with a grimace.
Commander Pulp gave a confused snort as two more lizard folk arrived and began shifting the other bag off of Grimes leg. The statement was clearly a humorous attempt to ignore the discomfort of the situation but it was also simply factual.
“I don’t think I want to do this again either,” Commander Pulp agreed.
Grimes gave a gasp of laughter as his leg was freed and he slid down the larger bag to land on the floor. The human began the always delicate process of determining if his leg was too injured to walk as Commander Pulp eased back from his position, keeping tension on the cable so it didn’t snap down until he was out from under it. Grimes was on his feet now, clearly putting experimental pressure on his injured leg. While the human grimaced, he didn’t ask for assistance to return to his sleeping quarters when the night watch declared the situation under control and ordered all off-shift personnel out of the way. Commander Pulp gave a look around and satisfied himself that it was in fact under control before following Grimes out of the room.
“Is this what humans call limping?” he asked.
Grimes blinked down at him and grinned ruefully.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “My ankle hurt when I stood up, but it can take all of my weight without much pain now. I think it just got a little twist, but I’ll make sure to check in with the base doctor tomorrow morning.” The human added hurriedly when Commander Pulp began to squint at him.
Satisfied. Commander Pulp trotted back to bed. It seemed that he had barely gotten comfortable when his comm unit buzzed. He slapped it with his tail and grunted.
“Commander Pulp Can you come assist me…in my quarters?” Grimes’s voice was tense with pain, but the mere fact that the human had asked for help was enough to, once again, wake up Commander Pulp instantly.
He scrambled out of his room and tore down the corridor to Grimes’s room. He burst through the door and saw Grimes sprawled over his sleeping surface, various long limbs still under his blankets and one leg dangling over the edge.
“Please lift my injured leg back up on the bed,” Grimes gasped out. “Push up from the bottom.”
Commander Pulp digested that a moment, then eased forward and carefully braced his forehead against the soft arch of Grimes’s foot.
“Like that.” Grimes confirmed with a pained grunt.
It was fairly east to get Grimes’s limbs back on his soft sleeping surface, and slightly harder to get him into the supine position that humans favored when injured. The soft, spongy material of the sleeping surface did not help but eventually they got all the long limbs arranged and Grimes heaved a sigh of relief.
“It was my understanding that your limb was not injured in any significant way,” Commander Pulp said cautiously.
Grimes gave a harsh bark of laughter but his body was visibly relaxed.
“That was my understanding too,” he said. “My ankle barely hurt last night, but when I tried to get up this morning, well-” He waved a hand at his leg.
“It does not appear to be swolen,” Commander Pulp observed in confusion.
Grimes squinted at his ankle and nodded in agreement.
“What kind of injury is this?” Commander Pulp asked.
“Search me if I know,” Grimes said with a sigh. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore if I don’t move. It doesn’t hurt that bad if I put weight on it. It only hurts when I lift my leg.”
“Shall I call the base doctor for you?” Commander Pulp asked.
“I don’t know,” Grimes said thoughtfully, twisting his torso to look at his personal bathroom. “I think I can just wrap it and -”
Commander Pulp heaved himself up and dropped across the human’s chest pinning him down.
“Shall I call Doctor Drawing for you?” Commander Pulp asked again, making aggressive eye contact with the human.
Grimes stared at him defiantly for a long moment before heaving a sigh.
“Yes, please send Doctor drawing,” he muttered.
“Wonderful,” Commander Pulp said cheerfully, dropping down to the floor. “He will be here shortly. And who can ferment it, maybe he will know how and why your weird, lanky body decided to hide an injury from you.”
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  • Home
    • Book 1 "Humans are Weird: I Have the Data"
    • Book 2 "Humans are Weird: We Took a Vote"
    • Book 3 "Humans are Weird: Let's Work It Out"
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    • "Dying Embers"
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