Its Funny How Science Fiction Universes So Often Treat Humans As A Boring, Default Everyman Species Or

It’s funny how science fiction universes so often treat humans as a boring, default everyman species or even the weakest and dumbest.

I want to see a sci fi universe where we’re actually considered one of the more hideous and terrifying species.

How do we know our saliva and skin oils wouldn’t be ultra-corrosive to most other sapient races? What if we actually have the strongest vocal chords and can paralyze or kill the inhabitants of other worlds just by screaming at them? What if most sentient life in the universe turns out to be vegetable-like and lives in fear of us rare “animal” races who can move so quickly and chew shit up with our teeth?

Like that old story “they’re made of meat,” only we’re scarier.

heehee timby

Timbo is a strange, squirrelly guy who avoids company: unless you can somehow tolerate his absurd ramblings. Then, he’s the most loyal friend you could possibly have. Though he started out a math prodigy, he burnt out quick and watched his parents abandon him—definitely evidence of a sabotage. Nowadays he hunts for UFOs in the skies over Picnic and diligently scours for evidence of his unified theory: all in the hopes that he’ll finally be listened to again. Our fine foil-hatted friend’s adventures will be detailed on my sideblog @shadowsoverpicnic :)

(Trying to catch this account up with my Instagram one, don’t mind me)

male mantises are such bimbos I saw this guy miss a bee, then very confidently take a bite of the goldenrod buds he caught instead

ROSWELL MENTION?? I’d never pass up the chance to ramble about this bathrobe 🖤

Phone/Laptop:

Ros’ tech is strictly for business: freshly replaced screens and undecorated black/space gray exterior (matching on both devices, of course).

All the apps/files are unlabeled and stored away from potential onlookers. The vast majority are some kind of homemade MIB tech Scarberry cooked up: everything from hacking modules to airspace maps to clocks on galactic standard time.

There’s some classic surf rock, 50s hits, and jazz downloaded, but only like 6 songs in total.

Occasionally, he’ll change his wallpaper to a neat flower or insect he’s seen recently.

None of his contacts have photos.

Car:

That old black Cadillac is ALWAYS in top shape. The outside’s polished like a mirror and the faux-leather interior is always spotless: though the new car smell has long been replaced with his own strange metallic aroma.

The glove box is full of well-organized papers: some blank, many with forged arrest warrants and government documents. Plenty of dubious ID cards, too.

Secret hatches under and beside the seats: there’s always specimen jars, nets, handcuffs with too many wrist holes, spare parts, and at least one huge gun—that one’s especially well hidden.

The trunk is strangely durable.

Backpack (Suitcase, in his case)

There’s a surprising number of trinkets: apple seeds, dried flowers, vintage toys, maybe a skinny comic book.

There’s a space packed with gadgets that his phone and computer can’t take over: but there’s a large circular space that’s about the size and shape of his hat.

i think we as a society need to use cell phones/laptops/cars/backpacks to flesh out characters

I would LOVE to be her

I think the only person I've met in real life with 100% career satisfaction was this gal I knew who was a presenter at a children's science museum and delivered every line like she was running a WWE match. Every time you passed the room where she was giving a presentation, you'd hear something like "WHO'S READY FOR CEPHALOPODS?!?" and the kids would go absolutely nuts cheering.

My boy Cyril, who emerged from an among us roleplay somehow. He’s a competent microbiologist tasked with handling the impostor problem, though he really isn’t used to space travel and the looming possibility of death… he is also very very smitten over an amogus cowboy yeah that happened

Extended bio here (might as well shoot my shot)