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June 8, 2023

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June 5, 2023

Humans are Weird - Cost Benefit

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 Humans are Weird – Cost Benefit

“Human Friend Cedric!” Quilx’tch called out as he disembarked from the crowded Silverwing onto the wide plain of the humans’ main agricultural world.
Cedric, massive even by human standards looked up at the platform and waved one trunk-like arm vigorously. Quilx’tch saw the thickened pads on his friend’s shoulders with relief. A nice, soft surface that he could really sink his claws into and flex his paws on was going to be heavenly after being cramped in a Winged transport. Quilx’tch positively skittered down the ramp to the loading dock set at the height of an adult human’s shoulders. Human Friend Cedric’s shoulders were so high above it that Quilx’tch took a flying leap to mount the shoulder pads he wore.
“I would have lifted you up little bud!” Human Friend Cedric said with a laugh as the massive mammal swung his body around and began swaying through the crowd towards the place where the transports were stored.
“I am aware,” Quilx’tch assured him, reaching up to pat the section of Human Friend Cedric’s face that was free of the bristly orange guard hairs that made him look so young and innocent. “I have been cramped on a leg killing Silverwing couch for the past several hours and desperately needed a good jump.”
“Nothing like alien furniture,” Human Friend Cedric said with a grimace. “Got stuck on a Shatar couch for a long haul once. My gultius had the maximus pain for weeks.”
Quilx’tch idly wondered if his knowledge of human medical terms was failing him, or if Human Friend Cedric was simply lapsing into bad grammar.
“So where is the fire?” Quilx’tch asked, feeling a touch of pride at using the figure of speech, even as he flexed his paws in glorious luxury on Human Friend Cedric’s shoulder.
“Right!” Human Friend Cedric suddenly exclaimed as he flung one massive leg over his two wheeled transport. “The new meat!”
Quixl’tch felt his mandibles twitch with amusement as Human Friend Cedric’s energy changed under his paws. The giant mammal was practically vibrating with excitement, entirely different from how he usually felt when piloting the cycle.
“Yes,” Quilx’tch said directly into the pocket of space under the human speak above the wind. “You mentioned you successfully harvested protein from a new species. I am quite curious-”
Quilx’tch broke off as the wheels went over a few bumps too large for the mechanisms to absorb entirely. However before he could finish his question Human Friend Cedric’s rumbling voice cut in eagerly and Quilx’tch crouched down with a sigh of bemused annoyance.
“You spotted that we hadn’t got any new species in on the last long haulers?” the human said laughing. “So you were wondering how we did it?”
Of course he was, Quilx’tch mused silently. He really was perplexed at the delight humans seemed to take in telling you what they thought your own thoughts were. Surely it was embarrassing when they inevitably revealed wrong guesses? However as much as it confused him Human Friend Cedric seemed to enjoy the process.
“So Cousin Bob was out exploring that old lake bed up north.” Human Friend Cedric said. “I think I told you about it. He found nearly a full body of one of those extinct lizard things that used to roam round these parts.”
Quilx’tch did remember that bit of information, but the human went on far too quickly for him to respond in the affirmative.
“So he brought the body, well, most of the body. It was a big old lizard. He brought it back to the University branch in the main city and they were able to harvest more than a few cells of the thing and culture it. We don’t have a host species to regrow the whole thing yet, but they managed to patch together the whole genecode and run some environmental simulations. Cousin Bob snagged me some of the muscular cell line and brought them down to the farm.”
They were approaching Human Friend Cedric’s primary habitation now and the ride got bumpier as they left the public road and proceeded down a private lane. Various domesticated avians lifted their heads watched the vehicle pass. The speed and the roughness of the road. made it difficult for Quilx’tch to follow the continual flow of words coming from the human. The massive, cliff like structures of human dwellings, artificial mountains, seemingly built of local stone and human willpower rose against gravity and reason. Vines had been trained to grow from one building to the next, providing shady paths for any visiting Shatar, and these as well as the monumental buildings had been laced through with walkways for Trisk and Winged. However it was to a more distant structure, a mere shell of metal that they were headed.
The cycle slid to a stop and Human Friend Cedric resumed speaking.
“Just wait till you see it little bud!” he enthused. “It’ll make your mouth water! I’ve had the electric flow tuned low for harvest.”
Quilx’tch idly wondered when the monologue had turned from food to power as they swept into Human Friend Cedric’s lab and out of the direct sun. Human Friend Cedric kept moving while Quilx’tch eyes adjusted and within moments they were looking down at a large clear cylinder. Both ends were opaque, and labeled and nutrient and electricity dispensers, and extended various tubes and prods into the cylinder. Between them, in a soft, warm light, stretched what Quilx’tch instantly identified as a live muscle bundle.
Human Friend Cedric had ceased talking and was staring at him with an expectant smile showing under the helmet he had forgotten to take off. Quilx’tch carefully processed what he had been told.
“You deliberately revivified, at no small expense in energy and resources, only the edible meat, of a giant extinct reptilian species,” Quilx’tch slowly stated.
Human Friend Cedric laughed with delight.
“A’yep!” he declared.
He reached out and opened the machine with one hand and picked up a handy knife with the other.
“The biochemistry boys back at the University Branch say it’ll taste like turkey, but the geneticists insist it’ll taste like pork, you want to be the impartial observer?” he asked as he pulled the meat out and set in on a preparation plate.
Quilx’tch mulled over the effort required to produce this meal, compared with the yearly harvest of the local domestic avian population, and gave a small shrug. If the humans determined that the goal was worth the cost he was not going to say no to free food.
“Dish it up please,” Quilx’tch said.
“One alien dinosaur sirloin coming up!” Human Friend Cedric announced.
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Volume 1 – Chapter 2
The Memorial Garden
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Published on June 05, 2023 11:47

June 4, 2023

Transformers: EarthSpark Season 1 Episode 16 Home Full Spoilers Review & Analysis They Tried-Flubbed

Picture Picture Transformers: EarthSpark Season 1 Episode 16 Home Full Spoilers Review & Analysis They Tried-Flubbed
https://youtu.be/8AroE0lOn7g
#TFES #Malto #Bumblebee #BrokenAseop #Grimlock




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“Flying Sparks”
Another foray into the lives of Drake McCarty, Ama Love, and the rest of their siblings as they discover that something alien is out in the forest around their home.
https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/flying-sparks-a-novel-of-dragon-bear-and-boy/coming_soon
#FlyingSparks #ScienceFiction #Scifi #Story #novel #book #DrakeMcCarty #AmaLove #Donny #Em #Bard #Bole #Aliens #Spaceships #Crystals #fireflies #NPS #NationalPark #Doctor #Sever #family #storm #writing #reading #drama #literature #author #BettyAdams #DyingEmbers #Dragons #ThingsThatGoBoomp #Indiegogo #CrowdFunding

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Published on June 04, 2023 12:26

May 31, 2023

"Flying Sparks" - A Novel of A Boy, A Dragon, and an Alien. 100K Words - Pre Order on Indiegogo Now!

Picture Flying Sparks
Pre Order Now

Chapter 2
“Hazardous? I’ll show that manipulative, misanthropic, anti-establishment cretin just what hazardous means if he thinks I’m going to fold on this!”
The sound of vigorous guitar riffs made a fitting accompaniment to the angry tirade despite originating on opposite sides of the communal area. Ama was glaring at a laptop that sat on a stained oak desk shoved against the large table near the kitchen. She tapped a fingernail on the wood as she read through the alert.
“And what violation of basic human dignity has her royal prudishness’s undies in a bunch?” Em demanded with an affected sneer without looking up from his guitar scales.
“Oh you’ll agree with this one tree-hugger,” Drake muttered from where he sat oiling his work boots.
“Yeah,” Donny piped up, “Finney is trying to kill a perfectly healthy fir.”
“What!” Em demanded, carefully placing his battered old acoustic guitar down in its case and darting over to look at the computer screen. “You mean apark tree?”
Despite her simmering frustration Ama allowed a small smile to flicker across her face as she continued to type.
“Get out of your pajamas and I’ll tell you,” Drake ordered pointing towards the bathroom door with a stained rag. “School starts in forty-five minutes and you still have breakfast and chores. That goes for you too Pip-squirt.”
“I hope you washed your hands before you touched our food,” Em said with a frown.
“Boot grease makes a great source of fatty acids.” Drake retorted. “Now go!”
The two smaller boys muttered in annoyance but stumbled off to follow orders.
“So what is up?” the youth asked as he bent his head back over the smooth leather of his boots.
“Mrs. Finney wants that tree down that’s blocking her perfect view of Crescent Lake.” Ama replied in a dry tone.
“One that’s clearly on park property?” Drake asked.
“Indeedy-do.” Ama replied giving the paper in front of her a glare.
“So how’s she justifying it?” Drake asked.
“As a safety hazard to her house.” Ama replied.
“And?”
The biologist groaned and rubbed her face.
“As far as I can tell the trunk is perfectly healthy. There is an old trash can lid grown into the trunk and a little discolored sap is leaking out there.”
“Frass?”
“Watch your language!” Donny interjected as he darted up to the table.
“Frass is not a bad word,” Drake stated. “Have you let the chickens out?”
“Yes, what does frass mean?” Donny asked as he started piling stir-fry onto his plate.
“Look it up.” Drake ordered him. “Emerald! Breakfast ends in ten minutes! Get your tukus down here!”
“It’s bad health to rush meals,” Em snapped out as he came down a narrow stairway with deliberate slowness.
“It’s even worse for your health to skip meals altogether,” Drake growled threateningly.
“Shut it and give me some eggs.” Em snapped back.
“Emerald Waters Undersun,” Drake hissed out through gritted teeth. “You are going to get your own eggs.”
The boy threw himself into a chair and glared at Drake with challenge in every line of his body.
“Emerald,” Ama said in a calm tone. “I think you should apologize to your cousin now.”
“Sorry I disturbed you Ama,” he offered without breaking eye contact with Drake.
“Not me, him,” Ama said.
“Sorry you had to hear that Donny.” Em said.
Ama heaved a sigh and closed her computer.
“Emerald,” Ama said.
“Do you want to eat or go hungry?” Drake demanded.
Ama glanced at him with a familiar uneasy look in her eyes and Drake fought down a wince.
“Now, Em.” she said in a patient tone.
“I’ll go hungry,” Em snapped, jumping up and stalking over to the couch.
Donny kept his eyes fixed on his plate. Ama heaved a sigh before turning back to her computer. Em wriggled on the couch for several minutes before skulking back to the table. Drake moved to intercept him but Ama stopped him with a look and he let Em serve himself. Drake cast irritated glances at the wall clock as the time crept more and more into school time.
Ama closed her computer and stood, then sighed, sat and opened it again.
“I need to pick out their report topics,” Ama muttered.
“I could do it,” Drake offered.
“You do quite enough,” Ama replied briskly, as she scanned the news. “Here you go. For Donny, malfunctions at the Lewis- McChord Air Force Base air show.” A frown creased her face. “Wow, this is pretty serious. It looks like the F-16 demonstration team nearly got killed.”
Drake whistled and leaned over her shoulder.
“Multiple system failures,” he read out loud. “I am pretty sure that isn’t supposed to happen.”
“Nope,” Ama agreed. “Here is a topic on big game management for Em.”
“Reports due by next week?” Drake asked as the old printer on the desk began to squeal and grumble as it powered up.
“Same as usual,” Ama confirmed.
Drake put the printouts on top of the homework pile and moved to wash up the breakfast dishes.
“I need to get to work early today so you two be good for Drake,” she called out placing a quick kiss on top of the smaller boys’ heads and giving Drake’s shoulder a friendly squeeze.
“Good luck with Mrs. Finney, and stay safe.” Drake called out as she went into her room.
The table was cleaned off and wiped down and the clink of forks gave way to the steady scratch of pencils on paper. They broke for a recess after religion and then lunch after history and math, and by the time the Grandfather clock in the corner struck two the younger boys twitching with energy. Drake made certain the internet was disconnected at the router, and chased Donny and Em out into the garden.
“And don’t come in until dark,” he ordered tossing two snack bags out after them.
Donny as usual snatched his food and disappeared into the small orachard. Low grumbles about troglodytes and the Amish wandered out into the high corn following Em and Drake shook his head in exasperation wondering, not for the first time how the dark haired princeling came from the same gene pool as his little brother. The kitchen being mostly ordered Drake was turning to put the last random dirty sock in the hamper when a gnarled hand clutching a cane head appeared in the corner of his eye, causing his heart to make a valiant attempt to bolt out of his throat.
“Abuelita!” he gasped forcing his hands down from the guard position. “Where did you come from?”
Smoldering black eyes ran searchingly over the tall youth. An impossibly long mane of streaked silver and black hair was barely contained in a thick braid. A sharply pointed nose perched over a small wrinkled mouth. A vibrant red horse-hair serape hung over her shoulders concealing everything except her brown and gnarled hands which currently clutched the old tree branch she used as a cane. Drake had been more than a little comforted by the fact that both Em and Donny had admitted to having the thought ‘witch’ every time time they saw her as well.
“From the hand of God by the bodies of my sainted mother and father,” she replied after a long, uncomfortable silence.
She always spoke in a low husky voice that suggested years of smoking, though Drake had never smelled even stale smoke on her.
“Right,” Drake blinked and grinned at the response; the one she always gave. “So you are here for their Spanish lesson? I have their grammar books ready and-”
The narrow end of the tree branch rapped against the concrete of the floor causing Drake to jump. Abuelita glared at him, locking his gaze and holding him in place with it for a moment.
“I am here for their lessons,” she finally stated, “and you are there for my payment.”
Drake thought longingly of the repair and maintenance manuals in the cab of the truck and the new tool he was itching to try, but he forced a grin on his face.
“Yes ma’am,” he said. “What can I get you today?”
Abuelita pulled out a bag of woven grass from under her serape causing the indistinct patterns on the cloth to shift and change.
“Take this,” she ordered him, “and collect me the cobalt blue berries that grow on a single stalk close to the ground. They must come from the mountain to the south east of here by the crystal brook.”
Drake nodded, and took the little bag, he didn’t quite manage to infused his gestures with enthusiasm he supposed. The old woman, probably wouldn’t have noted it anyway. She turned and moved towards the garden door without waiting for any other reply. However she called out over her shoulder as he turned to find his own way out of the rambling structure.
“Don’t dawdle little one. A storm brews in the distance.”
He tried not to roll his eyes at that, the weather forecast was clear and eighties for the next week according to the morning fire report Ama had printed. The youth only nodded and slipped around the corner. He circled the barn and pulled a set of loose tan pants and tunic out of the cubby. The soft worn leather almost perfectly matched the forest floor for color as did the moccasins he pulled on after them. His morning running clothes were modern stuff that wicked the sweat away from him and let him speed through the forest. These were his free day clothes. The ones that let him disappear into the forest and wander. Abuelita, for all of her demands, would tend Em and Donny until he returned no matter how late that was, and with the Park’s yearly budget talks still under way it was highly unlikely Ama would be home until long after the sun had set. Despite still hearing the call of the half restored truck he felt something lossening in him already. The soft cotton and smooth leather rested easily against his skin and Drake slipped into the forest.
Freedom; for the moment at least, blissful freedom. Pushing aside the guilt that accompanied the thought as well as any lingering worries about his charges the youth let his legs carry him through the trees. He shunned the man made paths, following the faint animal trails. This close to the barn they were as clear to him as if they were named city streets. Being animal trails, they invariably led him to water. Today he stopped at a trickling stream, took off his moccasins, and rolled up his pants legs. The youth turned and followed the thin flow of icy water upstream, letting it steal the heat from his body through his feet.
Some distance upstream, the stream widened and pooled under a boulder. There Drake paused and pulled an old black compass out of his pocket. Behind him he knew every trail and tree. Ahead was a broad swath of National Wilderness he would have to cross, or possibly Bureau of Land Management or even state managed forests where he more rarely wandered. It was hard to tell where the boundaries were from the ground. The clearing he wanted for the berries was solidly in BLM land and he still had quite a ways to go to get there. The stand of timber that stood between him and his goal was dense with young tree and branches that frequently formed impenetrable hedges he had to track around and he checked his compass regularly as he climbed in elevation. Even so the youth found he had wandered too far off his route and had to correct when he spotted the boundary fence. However he was in no hurry and he reached the clearing long before the sun told him it was time to turn around.
Sometime in the past some unknown force had carved a shallow trench across the side of one of the small mountains that that dotted the wilderness. It had puzzled Drake at first. The scour was at the wrong angle to be an old rock slide, and terminated in a near perfectly circular clearing at the lower end. Centuries old Douglas Firs abruptly gave way to a second ring only a few decades old. Those were in turn beginning to produce cones and a smattering of knee high saplings. The rest of the space was completely given over to wildflowers. No matter what season Drake visited it he found a riot of life.
There had been an early spring and many herbs that normally would have waited a month or more were already in full bloom in the mountain meadow. A white wave of foamflower washed in from the deep forest surrounding the clearing, sending up knee high stalks covered in the delicate white blooms. Late trillium hid close to the roots of the great firs, many having shed their white corollas and begun to put forth their bulbous seed heads. Fuzzy white baneberry blossoms nodded gently in the breeze. A riot of yellow and purple spread across the ground as vetch and buttercups and a host of clovers competed for space in the open sun. Great stalks of lupine as high as his head thrust up their purple and blue proudly from thick clusters of palm shaped leaves. Pink shooting stars and violet harebells crouched under the protection of the larger plants. Indian paintbrush lit the scene with flames of red and orange. Where a spring seeped into the meadow elephant’s head flared neon pink and corydalis bushes put forth blushing blooms. Pale green wild orchids stood along the wet spot and the swarms of bees danced from them to the glacier lilies.
Sometimes, as he bent over a tiny blossom and traced the intricate network of veins in the petals, drank in the scent, and felt the smooth surface of the leaves an otherworldly feeling would come over him. It was as if there was another world just out of range of his senses. If he could only really look, the thin illusion that was blocking him would slip away and reveal the real world underneath it.
“Look Awiegwa,” his father would whisper, pointing at a deer mouse perched on a fallen log. “What does it see?”
Awiegwa would screw up his face and squint. Trying to find the answer to the question.
Awiegwa had often wondered how so many flowers had come to be in the relatively small area. He had identified dozens of species and there were more he had yet to determine. The clearing was always the first place to bloom and the last to go dormant. Many of the flowers seemed to utterly defy their usual blooming patterns. However, as time passed he had simply come to accept it. It was one of the small good things that brought back the memories of his father. If it didn’t quite follow the rules Ama had taught him, well an impossible clearing in the mountains wasn’t a place for rules.
The particular bloom that Abuelita had requested had taken full advantage of the early sun and had already put forth a few cobalt blue berries; easily spotted at the edge of the clearing in the delicate sea of white flowers.
However before he left the shade of the forest for the meadow the youth paused and closed his eyes. Bole wasn’t always here, but he was often enough that Awiegwa always checked for him. Carefully he reconstructed the clearing in his mind; marking every tree and boulder on the edge. Three years he had been coming here and each time it was easier to recreate the clearing. Breathing evenly he opened his eyes, letting the mental image merge with the actual. There was a brief moment of confusion as details like the play of light through branches and the trembling of small clusters of flowers fixed themselves but there was only one truly jarring note. Awiegwa didn’t let his eyes focus on the disparity; he never did anymore, but a warm smile spread across his features as he slipped silently into the meadow.
He was here. As the youth moved in a low crouch, gathering the first fruits of the Queen’s Cup, he let his peripheral vision linger on a particular snag. There was nothing obviously interesting about it, other than the fact that it had not been there the last time Awiegwa was here. He had named the wanderer Bole, because it most often appeared as a thick tree trunk; sometimes living, sometimes dead. Occasionally it would be a boulder or simply a mound in the dirt. Often it wasn’t in the clearing at all. If the youth moved forward and tried to closely examine it he could never find anything to suggest it was something other than a tree or rock.
He had thought about taking a sample occasionally, had taken his knife out to do just that more than once, but something always held him back. Bole was a part of this place. Dissecting him would be too much like attempting to dissect his sense of his father’s presence here. The youth had never told anyone about this place, not even Ama with who could get most things out of him easily enough. Down at the house, in town, when he was Drake; solid, reliable, first up in the morning, two grades ahead in school with a penchant for science Drake, a productive member of modern society with a promising future and his mother smiling at him. Here he could be Awiegwa. Here he could believe in the ancient medicines his father had dug out of dusty old tomes and brought to life from the forest litter. Every time Awiegwa left the clearing and headed back towards home reality would reassert itself. Bole would resolve back into a figment of his imagination, created from pride in a somewhat better than average memory and what the social workers had called an “intriguing imagination”. When he reached the house and become solidly Drake again flickers of embarrassment would begin eating at him for letting his senses trick him like that, but as long as the blooms nodded around him in this garden Bole could exist even on a Thursday.
The little woven grass bag filled up with the berries fairly quickly and Awiegwa soon stretched out of his crouch and let his gaze wander contentedly over the clearing. As it always did, the warm space was working its special magic. Worries about Em getting out of his schoolwork, of not paying enough attention to the quiet Donny, of letting Ama see his petty resentments: it had all melted away from his muscles, thoughts of college costs and abandoning his duties dissolved into an acute sense of the now. The leaves rustled softly in a barely-there breeze, the heavy scent of some unidentified blossom filled his lungs, a dozen shades of green framed the rainbow of flowers, and over and above it all the creaking of the firs as the wind played over them. It was at times like these that he felth he could almost see into heaven; that something wonderful that existed just beyond his senses, and all he had to do was reach out and claim it.
The youth took a deep breath and let himself fall backwards onto a handy rise in the forest floor. His path had taken him to the foot of the snag and he shifted slightly to align himself with the gnarled roots. One hand gripped a time smoothed root.
“Ama trusted me enough to go out of state,” he murmured. “That’s the first time she’s done that. Usually she has Abulita stay with us to fend off the Harsh, but she said it’s long past legal now.”
It was his imagination of course that made him think the root vibrated in his hand in response. Many a long hour he had spent in this clearing with the wanderer. He had poured out his frustrations and anguishes over life’s injustices, had shared his secrets as he grew, and had shouted his triumphs. Sometimes he felt closer to Bole than to any of his human friends. However, something that sounded like his mother’s voice warned him that there was something odd about this and that awareness was the main reason he had kept this place secret from Ama. Their mother hadn’t exactly liked stuff like that. She had never objected to his father’s digging up the old stories of her people. Making cross generational connections between elders, who more often than not lived isolated lives, and the next generation, was an admirable goal in of itself in her eyes; objectively a social good. Storytelling was only the natural course for these relationships to take, but subtle looks had warned even a very young Drake that it was best to cautious what he shared with his mother. At least of those things that couldn’t be placed on a microscope slide. So this was Awigewa’s place, and while his father’s spirit wanders the flowers with he had never felt his mother here.
He let his focus drift up, and up. Dark blue Lupine nodded over his head framing the faint crisscross of jet contrails that threw a light haze over an otherwise cloudless sky. His clothed grew deliciously hot from the spring sun. The ground too had eagerly accepted the energy and now it conducted the heat into the muscles of his back. Bole’s wood beneath him was warmer even than the surrounding ground and an idle thought traced across Awiegwa’s awareness; something about it being odd for the light colored wood and relatively dry wood to retain more heat than the darker soil surrounding it. His mind was filled with the impression of a goal. He had been meaning to do, something. Something fun, yes, exploring, he’d meant to see if whatever had dug that den by the second boulder was cubing this year. He would just get up and do that in a minute. His back was so warm and comfortable.



“Flying Sparks”
Another foray into the lives of Drake McCarty, Ama Love, and the rest of their siblings as they discover that something alien is out in the forest around their home.
https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/flying-sparks-a-novel-of-dragon-bear-and-boy/coming_soon
#FlyingSparks #ScienceFiction #Scifi #Story #novel #book #DrakeMcCarty #AmaLove #Donny #Em #Bard #Bole #Aliens #Spaceships #Crystals #fireflies #NPS #NationalPark #Doctor #Sever #family #storm #writing #reading #drama #literature #author #BettyAdams #DyingEmbers #Dragons #ThingsThatGoBoomp #Indiegogo #CrowdFunding Youtube
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Published on May 31, 2023 19:24

May 29, 2023

Humans are Weird – Things That Go Boomp in the Night

Picture  Humans are Weird – Things That Go Boomp in the Night


“Of course humans are diurnal,” Doctor Drawing said with a sigh as he glared meaningfully at his reports.
“But I have seen Grimes-” Commander Pulp said, curling his tail at a meek angle.
“Grimes has a medical issue called insomnia,” Doctor Drawing snapped with a threatening twitch to his tail. “It is well documented.”
Commander Pulp clicked his teeth together eagerly and his tail gave a more confident wave. Doctor Drawing gave him a sideways glance but grudgingly turned his attention to the new commander.
“I have a medical issues to report!” Commander Pulp announced proudly.
“Very well,” Doctor Drawing growled, reaching for a scanner with one fore-paw. “What is wrong with you?”
“Not me!” Commander Pulp said with a cheerful wave of his now raised tail. “Grimes has been displaying signs of insomnia!”
Doctor Drawing gave a grumble but set the scanner down and reached for his data pad.
“What did you observe?” he demanded.
“Grimes was preforming construction maintenance in his room,” Commander Pulp stated.
Doctor slowly raised his snout and gave him a look that, adult that he was, made Commander Pulp’s scutes tighten in submission.
“In the middle of the night!” Commander Pulp went on quickly. “I was just going to sleep, had just gotten comfortable with my sleep partner, between the fourth and first shifts, when I heard the high power drills from his room.”
Doctor Drawing rocked back and grumbled softly as he ground that over.
“That is odd,” he finally admitted, “but humans do stay up late to finish projects. Wasn’t his room damaged by that tree branch in the last high wind.”
“Yes,” Commander Pulp agreed quickly, “I am aware of that, but he had already gone to sleep! I checked in on him to offer myself as a sleep companion. He was already fast asleep and I could not get permission.”
“Good of you to respect that,” Doctor Drawing said with a significant angle to his head.
Commander Pulp licked his teeth in frustration at that dig. He simply hadn’t known human custom that time he had joined the sleeping human and he had never done it again.
“The force of the stone is that Grimes must have woken up for no external reason and then decided to mend his wall, something that was on the schedule for tomorrow!” He said.
Doctor Drawing ground this quietly over in his head for a few moments and gradually his tail began to wave in agreement.
“So long as he was preforming within parameters I could not justify addressing the issue again once he had dismissed me,” the doctor said slowly. “However this behavior is affecting the rest of the base. I will call him in and discuss the situation from that angle.”
“My thanks,” Commander Pulp said.
Doctor Drawing picked his reports back up and glared meaningfully at the door and Commander Pulp gratefully took the hint. There was still a chance he could snag a nap with second shift.  

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What does it mean when your human friend says “Watch This?”? Why does this simple phrase seem to terrify any alien that has first appendage experience with humans? #HFY #HumansAreWeird #HumansAreSpaceOrcs #EarthIsADeathWorld #EarthIsSpaceAustralia


Hey! The books are moving well on Amazon and now have 300 reviews and ratings! If you bought the book and enjoyed it, it would really help me out if you leave a quick star rating on Amazon. A review would be great but just stars would be a huge boost *****!
​

QUICK NOTE: RE: everyone who asked. The book is avaliable in Amazon regions US-UK-DE-FR-ES-IT-NL-JP-BR-CA-MX-AU-IN. HOWEVER The above link only takes you to the US Amazon site. The one indicated by the .com ending. If it says "not avaliable in your country" that just means that you need to click over to your Amazon region.


Of course if you want a signed first edition you can email me at the email on my website and I can ship you a signed Author copy of the first edition until I run out of first run books.
AMAZO N
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Published on May 29, 2023 10:28

May 28, 2023

Kaiju No. 8 Chapter 86 Full Spoilers Review & Analysis – No Twist, No Turns, Just Raw Shonen Manga

Picture  Kaiju No. 8 Chapter 86 Full Spoilers Review & Analysis – No Twist, No Turns, Just Raw Shonen Manga
https://youtu.be/Iibazu99Uc4
#ShonenJump #GenNArumi #IsaoShinomiya #mentor #training

Please go and leave a new rating and review on my 3rd book! 
Amazon! 
Barnes & Noble
Powell's Books
Google Play Books
Kobo By Rakuten
​
What does it mean when your human friend says “Watch This?”? Why does this simple phrase seem to terrify any alien that has first appendage experience with humans? #HFY #HumansAreWeird #HumansAreSpaceOrcs #EarthIsADeathWorld #EarthIsSpaceAustralia


Hey! The books are moving well on Amazon and now have 300 reviews and ratings! If you bought the book and enjoyed it, it would really help me out if you leave a quick star rating on Amazon. A review would be great but just stars would be a huge boost *****!
​

QUICK NOTE: RE: everyone who asked. The book is avaliable in Amazon regions US-UK-DE-FR-ES-IT-NL-JP-BR-CA-MX-AU-IN. HOWEVER The above link only takes you to the US Amazon site. The one indicated by the .com ending. If it says "not avaliable in your country" that just means that you need to click over to your Amazon region.


Of course if you want a signed first edition you can email me at the email on my website and I can ship you a signed Author copy of the first edition until I run out of first run books.
AMAZO N

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Published on May 28, 2023 18:57

May 25, 2023

Kaiju No. 8 Chapter 86 No Spoilers Review & Analysis-Banger of a Shonen Chapter Takes You to the Bank

Picture  Kaiju No. 8 Chapter 86 No Spoilers Review & Analysis-Banger of a Shonen Chapter Takes You to the Bank
https://youtu.be/btWa6zCxfqA
#ShonenJump #KN8 #CaptainGenNarumi #DirectorGeneralIsaoShinomiya

Please go and leave a new rating and review on my 3rd book! 
Amazon! 
Barnes & Noble
Powell's Books
Google Play Books
Kobo By Rakuten
​
What does it mean when your human friend says “Watch This?”? Why does this simple phrase seem to terrify any alien that has first appendage experience with humans? #HFY #HumansAreWeird #HumansAreSpaceOrcs #EarthIsADeathWorld #EarthIsSpaceAustralia


Hey! The books are moving well on Amazon and now have 300 reviews and ratings! If you bought the book and enjoyed it, it would really help me out if you leave a quick star rating on Amazon. A review would be great but just stars would be a huge boost *****!
​

QUICK NOTE: RE: everyone who asked. The book is avaliable in Amazon regions US-UK-DE-FR-ES-IT-NL-JP-BR-CA-MX-AU-IN. HOWEVER The above link only takes you to the US Amazon site. The one indicated by the .com ending. If it says "not avaliable in your country" that just means that you need to click over to your Amazon region.


Of course if you want a signed first edition you can email me at the email on my website and I can ship you a signed Author copy of the first edition until I run out of first run books.
AMAZO N
Youtube
BitChute
Odysee
Rumble 
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Published on May 25, 2023 20:01

May 22, 2023

Humans are Weird - Trophy

Picture ​ Humans are Weird – Trophy


Fifth Cousin shifted the stack of bandages in her arms and clicked in annoyance as this new Third Sister examined a container of mammalian muscle relaxants with a critical curl in her antennas. This base, set on a mild agricultural world claimed by the humans was meant to be an easy position for a few years of civil service before Fifth Cousin returned to her Father’s garden and either rooted herself there or was sent to a Sister’s hive. The fruit bearing trees that dominated in this region were not so dissimilar from the vines of their homeworld and the humans who had claimed the world were famously peaceful. This strange Third Sister with her brilliant reds and rough outer membrane seemed the most dangerous thing the on the planet, though Fifth Cousin kept that thought to herself.
“We need more,” the medical rated Third Sister announced, tossing the supposedly insufficient container into the cart she was pushing.
“Throw those on top,” she indicated the bandages with a flick of her antenna, “and go set the synthesizers to formulate more. It won’t be done by the time the brawl’s over but it should be done before they really start to feel it. Meet me on the quad when you are done setting it up.”
Fifth Cousin curled her antenna in confusion at the rolling human word Third Sister had used but dutifully followed orders. If this Third Sister was one of the type who needed to keep her underlings skittering about preforming pointless tasks it was simply her place to obey. She dropped the bandages and trotted down to the main medical ward with all its over-sized equipment that looked more like a mechanical bay than a medical ward. She quickly had the chemical synthesizer activated and entered the required formula. She noted with some surprise first the volume that the machine’s records showed had been formulated, and second the odd pattern. For most of the local year there was almost no change in the amount required by the humans on the base, then, once a year the production rate spiked. Fifth Cousin noted uneasily that a full year had passed since the last spike and she wondered what the Third Sister knew.
She walked out to the quad, the wide open space between the various buildings of the base, far too open to be comfortable for a Shatar. However in one corner the humans had planted and cultivated a decent canopy and Third Sister was perched on a raised couch in its center, munching on a bright orange fruit and watching the odd behavior of a few humans skulking around the edge of the quad. Third Sister gestured her over and Fifth Cousin trotted over and leapt up onto the couch. Third Sister handed her one of the fruits and gave her frill a comforting flare.
“You will be safe up here,” she said in a more agreeable tone than Fifth Cousin had yet heard.
“Safe from the brawl?” Fifth Cousin hazarded and Third Sister looked pleased at her question.
“Do you see those humans?” she asked, indicating the now clearly hiding forms. “Do notice anything interesting about them?”
“They are all from the next base over the mountains,” Fifth Cousin said as she sniped through the outer skin of the fruit with her mandibles.
It made a pleasant squish sound as she dug down to the juice.
“And you note that none of them are from this base,” Third Sister pointed out.
“Except for First Botanist in her office none of them were here this afternoon,” Fifth Cousin observed with a suddenly perplexed set to her antenna.
“First Botanist requires plausible deniability,” Third Sister explained, “she couldn’t participate. Though I suspect that is just part of the tradition more than it is to protect her from legal repercussions, the whole tangle seems to be condoned.”
Third Sister’s words muttered off into a long sulky bite at the fruit and Fifth Cousin stared at the odd Third Sister feeling just a little unease flick at the edges of her frill. Third Sister was clearly weaving a deep pattern for her, helping her to see something of the surrounding forest that was hiding in the patterns of the leaves, but so far she had no idea what it was. The sound of the rumbling engines of the long distance transports drifted over the afternoon wind and the hiding humans grew tense with excitement, easily detectable as there pheromones hovered in the air.
Third Botanist, an absolutely massive human male, came bounding through a gap in the buildings holding something over his head and whooping in excitement. Fifth Sister tilted her head to get a better angle on the thing. It looked like a taxidermy sample of some sort, one of the furrier of the local mammals perhaps, but if that was what it was it was damaged far beyond recognition. Behind the lead human ran a laughing line of smaller humans.
“They called it Fuzzykins when it was alive,” Third Sister stated watching the running human near the hiding humans. “It was their first attempt at taming the local wildlife and it was highly successful. The humans got quite attached to Fuzzykins. This was before my time here but I got the information from the old Grandmother who was here before me. There was a very peaceful, but earnest competition to see which of the two bases got to house Fuzzykins while he lived.”
She dipped her proboscis into the fruit and reached out a firm hand to grip Fifth Cousin’s shoulder.
“Do not panic,” she said in that low, powerful tone that single digit sisters had.
“Why would I-” Fifth Cousin began.
Then one of the hiding humans leapt out and flung his entire considerable mass against the running human. Fifth Cousin did not panic. It was nearly impossible with Third Cousin’s fingers all but paralyzing her in their grip. Almost unbelievably the running human didn’t fall at the blow and maintained his grip on the battered form of Fuzzykins. Two more humans leapt on him and his thick knee joints buckled under the weight. Now the following humans arrived and threw themselves on the writing pile of mammalian limbs.
“They are fighting?” Fifth Cousin asked, proud of how steady she kept her voice.
“Brawling,” Third Sister stated in a resigned tone, “this is a brawl.”
More and more humans, both the hidden ones and the arriving ones joined the pile in a confusion of attempts to pry individual humans out or pin them in place. Third Sister seemed to judge her calm enough and released her shoulder to resume her story.
“After Fuzzykins died the humans preserved his body,” she said. “The organs were harvested for study of course, all but the skin which they formed into the basic shape of the animal. However with Fuzzykins death the desire to house him grew in intensity. This resulted in multiple attempts, both successful and failed, to steal him from one base and keep him at the other. As such things happen it soon became a game and rules formed around it.”
“It only happens once a year,” Fifth Cousin observed and Third Sister gave her a proud look.
Out in the quad a human howled as his leg twisted much too far for that joint. Moments later the human was up and staggering away with something clutched under his arm.
“I do not pretend to understand the rules of the game,” Third Sister stated, “but as it is not only entirely voluntary, but there seems to be no coercion I have not felt the need to intervene. I simply prepare my medical supplies and wait.”
“This base is rated as having the lowest levels of inter-human aggression in the working group,” Fifth Cousin observed with a question in the tilt of her head.
“The current working theory is that they vent all of it in this activity,” Third Sister said as one of the smallest humans sprinted up with the grace of a predator, leapt into the air and dragged the runner carrying Fuzzykins to the ground. “Now finish up your fruit, they are going to run out of stamina soon and once the endorphins wear off they will start feeling the damage and we will need all the muscle relaxant you can decant from the synthesizer.”

 Humans are Weird – Trophy


Fifth Cousin shifted the stack of bandages in her arms and clicked in annoyance as this new Third Sister examined a container of mammalian muscle relaxants with a critical curl in her antennas. This base, set on a mild agricultural world claimed by the humans was meant to be an easy position for a few years of civil service before Fifth Cousin returned to her Father’s garden and either rooted herself there or was sent to a Sister’s hive. The fruit bearing trees that dominated in this region were not so dissimilar from the vines of their homeworld and the humans who had claimed the world were famously peaceful. This strange Third Sister with her brilliant reds and rough outer membrane seemed the most dangerous thing the on the planet, though Fifth Cousin kept that thought to herself.
“We need more,” the medical rated Third Sister announced, tossing the supposedly insufficient container into the cart she was pushing.
“Throw those on top,” she indicated the bandages with a flick of her antenna, “and go set the synthesizers to formulate more. It won’t be done by the time the brawl’s over but it should be done before they really start to feel it. Meet me on the quad when you are done setting it up.”
Fifth Cousin curled her antenna in confusion at the rolling human word Third Sister had used but dutifully followed orders. If this Third Sister was one of the type who needed to keep her underlings skittering about preforming pointless tasks it was simply her place to obey. She dropped the bandages and trotted down to the main medical ward with all its over-sized equipment that looked more like a mechanical bay than a medical ward. She quickly had the chemical synthesizer activated and entered the required formula. She noted with some surprise first the volume that the machine’s records showed had been formulated, and second the odd pattern. For most of the local year there was almost no change in the amount required by the humans on the base, then, once a year the production rate spiked. Fifth Cousin noted uneasily that a full year had passed since the last spike and she wondered what the Third Sister knew.
She walked out to the quad, the wide open space between the various buildings of the base, far too open to be comfortable for a Shatar. However in one corner the humans had planted and cultivated a decent canopy and Third Sister was perched on a raised couch in its center, munching on a bright orange fruit and watching the odd behavior of a few humans skulking around the edge of the quad. Third Sister gestured her over and Fifth Cousin trotted over and leapt up onto the couch. Third Sister handed her one of the fruits and gave her frill a comforting flare.
“You will be safe up here,” she said in a more agreeable tone than Fifth Cousin had yet heard.
“Safe from the brawl?” Fifth Cousin hazarded and Third Sister looked pleased at her question.
“Do you see those humans?” she asked, indicating the now clearly hiding forms. “Do notice anything interesting about them?”
“They are all from the next base over the mountains,” Fifth Cousin said as she sniped through the outer skin of the fruit with her mandibles.
It made a pleasant squish sound as she dug down to the juice.
“And you note that none of them are from this base,” Third Sister pointed out.
“Except for First Botanist in her office none of them were here this afternoon,” Fifth Cousin observed with a suddenly perplexed set to her antenna.
“First Botanist requires plausible deniability,” Third Sister explained, “she couldn’t participate. Though I suspect that is just part of the tradition more than it is to protect her from legal repercussions, the whole tangle seems to be condoned.”
Third Sister’s words muttered off into a long sulky bite at the fruit and Fifth Cousin stared at the odd Third Sister feeling just a little unease flick at the edges of her frill. Third Sister was clearly weaving a deep pattern for her, helping her to see something of the surrounding forest that was hiding in the patterns of the leaves, but so far she had no idea what it was. The sound of the rumbling engines of the long distance transports drifted over the afternoon wind and the hiding humans grew tense with excitement, easily detectable as there pheromones hovered in the air.
Third Botanist, an absolutely massive human male, came bounding through a gap in the buildings holding something over his head and whooping in excitement. Fifth Sister tilted her head to get a better angle on the thing. It looked like a taxidermy sample of some sort, one of the furrier of the local mammals perhaps, but if that was what it was it was damaged far beyond recognition. Behind the lead human ran a laughing line of smaller humans.
“They called it Fuzzykins when it was alive,” Third Sister stated watching the running human near the hiding humans. “It was their first attempt at taming the local wildlife and it was highly successful. The humans got quite attached to Fuzzykins. This was before my time here but I got the information from the old Grandmother who was here before me. There was a very peaceful, but earnest competition to see which of the two bases got to house Fuzzykins while he lived.”
She dipped her proboscis into the fruit and reached out a firm hand to grip Fifth Cousin’s shoulder.
“Do not panic,” she said in that low, powerful tone that single digit sisters had.
“Why would I-” Fifth Cousin began.
Then one of the hiding humans leapt out and flung his entire considerable mass against the running human. Fifth Cousin did not panic. It was nearly impossible with Third Cousin’s fingers all but paralyzing her in their grip. Almost unbelievably the running human didn’t fall at the blow and maintained his grip on the battered form of Fuzzykins. Two more humans leapt on him and his thick knee joints buckled under the weight. Now the following humans arrived and threw themselves on the writing pile of mammalian limbs.
“They are fighting?” Fifth Cousin asked, proud of how steady she kept her voice.
“Brawling,” Third Sister stated in a resigned tone, “this is a brawl.”
More and more humans, both the hidden ones and the arriving ones joined the pile in a confusion of attempts to pry individual humans out or pin them in place. Third Sister seemed to judge her calm enough and released her shoulder to resume her story.
“After Fuzzykins died the humans preserved his body,” she said. “The organs were harvested for study of course, all but the skin which they formed into the basic shape of the animal. However with Fuzzykins death the desire to house him grew in intensity. This resulted in multiple attempts, both successful and failed, to steal him from one base and keep him at the other. As such things happen it soon became a game and rules formed around it.”
“It only happens once a year,” Fifth Cousin observed and Third Sister gave her a proud look.
Out in the quad a human howled as his leg twisted much too far for that joint. Moments later the human was up and staggering away with something clutched under his arm.
“I do not pretend to understand the rules of the game,” Third Sister stated, “but as it is not only entirely voluntary, but there seems to be no coercion I have not felt the need to intervene. I simply prepare my medical supplies and wait.”
“This base is rated as having the lowest levels of inter-human aggression in the working group,” Fifth Cousin observed with a question in the tilt of her head.
“The current working theory is that they vent all of it in this activity,” Third Sister said as one of the smallest humans sprinted up with the grace of a predator, leapt into the air and dragged the runner carrying Fuzzykins to the ground. “Now finish up your fruit, they are going to run out of stamina soon and once the endorphins wear off they will start feeling the damage and we will need all the muscle relaxant you can decant from the synthesizer.”

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Published on May 22, 2023 07:55

May 21, 2023

Transformers: Earthspark Season 1 Episode 15 Warzone Full Spoilers Review & Analysis Remembrance

Picture  Transformers: Earthspark Season 1 Episode 15 Warzone Full Spoilers Review & Analysis Remembrance
https://youtu.be/S6OcEGFgfeI
#Megatron #AllSpark #OptimusPrime #Starscream #Malto

Please go and leave a new rating and review on my 3rd book! 
Amazon! 
Barnes & Noble
Powell's Books
Google Play Books
Kobo By Rakuten
​
What does it mean when your human friend says “Watch This?”? Why does this simple phrase seem to terrify any alien that has first appendage experience with humans? #HFY #HumansAreWeird #HumansAreSpaceOrcs #EarthIsADeathWorld #EarthIsSpaceAustralia


Hey! The books are moving well on Amazon and now have 300 reviews and ratings! If you bought the book and enjoyed it, it would really help me out if you leave a quick star rating on Amazon. A review would be great but just stars would be a huge boost *****!
​

QUICK NOTE: RE: everyone who asked. The book is avaliable in Amazon regions US-UK-DE-FR-ES-IT-NL-JP-BR-CA-MX-AU-IN. HOWEVER The above link only takes you to the US Amazon site. The one indicated by the .com ending. If it says "not avaliable in your country" that just means that you need to click over to your Amazon region.


Of course if you want a signed first edition you can email me at the email on my website and I can ship you a signed Author copy of the first edition until I run out of first run books.
AMAZO N Youtube
BitChute
Odysee
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Published on May 21, 2023 09:40