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johnnypsycho · 20 days

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Space Cowboys

The humans had abandoned them. After seemingly endless cycles of fighting the battle was about to be lost and the war with it, and the humans had left them to fight for themselves.

‘So much for the legendary pack-bonding of humans.’ Krillna thought to himself as he leaned around his bunker to lay down some suppressing fire on the enemy. Tungsten rods magnetically accelerated to near supersonic speed ripped into the battle field and enemies died by the dozens…but it wasn’t enough.

Seemingly endless waves of the reptilian enemies known as the Slentine seemed to crawl and slither towards their position. Fields of scales and fangs greeted him every time he looked around his barrier, looks of desperation and hopelessness looked back every time he turned away from the battle.

“You would think the humans could have at least left us the weapons before they ran like cowards!” cried out one soldier before he was cut down by enemy fire.

Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’

“Did anyone else hear that?” Krillna asked after firing another salvo of rounds towards the slowly advancing enemy. Looking at his ammo counter and seeing it was empty, Krillna threw his weapon to the ground and grabbed the ceremonial bone dagger the warriors of his people were gifted upon maturity.

Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’

Holding the blade to his chest and breathing the prayers of his youth, Krillna begged the seven skies of his homeland for the power of the mighty storm, pleaded for his spirit to be flown on the winds to his ancestors. Finding himself at the end of his prayers and ready to face the enemy head on and to fight tooth, bone and claw in the ways of his ancestors, Krillna couldn’t help but think he heard something on the wind again. Looking to the forest side of the battlefield, Krillna felt a rumbling through the pads of his clawed foot.

Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’ RAWHIIIIIDE!

With the sound of thunder and snapping trees, Krillna felt all three of his hearts stop and fall.

Gierophants, mighty horned beasts weighing several tons with great crests of hardened skin behind the skull to protect the neck and a row of spines extending the length of the spine, each one several times as tall as Krillna’s seven foot frame. Easy to anger, nearly impossible to outrun, harder to damage and often found in herds of fifty to one-hundred the gierophant was this world’s largest inhabitant, but Krillna thought he saw something on the back of the lead beast.

Humans.

Humans were riding the gierophants…a herd of what looked to be sixty or more and each one had a human standing on the snout of the creature and even more behind the crest or between the dorsal spines.

RAIN AND WIND AND WEATHER

The humans were either lashed to a spine or each other with lengths of rope and each one was firing wildly into the horde of enemies, hanging sideways from the flanks of the great beasts, weaving between the spines, crouching behind the crest and all were firing their rifles.

HELL BENT FOR LEATHER

“Sir? Am I having a substance dream or are those humans riding Gierophants into the Slentine ranks in a stampede while singing what sounds like a human battle song?” A young warrior asked in disbelief as the battle field seemed to come to a stop. The pause didn’t last long as the slentine soldiers quickly turned their weapons on the stampede of human madness and animal rage.

WISHING MY GIRL WAS BY MY SIIIDEEE!

“You are most definitely seeing this pup, the crazy humans went and did the impossible again…WARRIORS OF CANTRAXA!” Krillna called out to the stunned warriors behind him, filled with a renewed hope for victory.

“DRAW YOUR BLADES AND RELOAD YOUR WEAPONS, THE HUMANS HAVE GIVEN US THIS CHANCE AND BY THE FIRE PLAINS OF OUR HOME WORLD I WILL NOT STAND BY AND MAKE NOTHING OF IT!” Holding his blade high above his head the Pack-Master let loose the battle cry of his ancestors with such ferocity that it seemed to ring from the very heavens, turned from his comrades and ran face first into the chaos of the newly evened battle.

ALL THE THINGS IM MISSIN’

Three hardened battle packs of Cantraxa warriors, thought to be beaten down by sheer numbers and attrition, thought to be defeated and simply too stupid to understand… howled. Each and every one felt what the humans referred to as battle lust and with the feeling of fire singing in their veins each and every one reached deep into their souls and called the ancient war cries of times long past. GOOD VITTLES, LOVE AND KISSIN’

The humans sang on, swinging wildly from the sides of the Gierophants or hanging on with one hand and firing with the other, seemingly oblivious to the rounds of enemy’s fire flying past them. With every human felled the others seemed to sing louder. Krillna was in awe of these small hairless creatures as he ran towards the battle, they rode the great beasts of this world like they were born to it, they faced a horde of enemies without fear and sang their defiance in the face of death and defeat. ARE WAITING AT THE END OF MY RIIIIIIDEEEEE~

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The battle was won, the slentine ranks had been broken in half by the stampede and when the front ranks turned to fire on the new threat they were drowned in an avalanche of fur and fang, bullet and bone from the Cantraxa warriors.

The humans had run over and shot down much of the enemy, the field had been churned to a bloody mud pit of broken bodies and weapons, the Gierophants were long gone by then, the humans had dismounted and returned to base.

Krillna watched in curious amazement as the humans went about their post battle chores.

Groups of humans combing the battlefield for survivors, pulling bodies from the muck and determining if they could be saved or not. Slentine and Cantraxian alike were given final honors or medical aid…mere hours before these small hairless maniacs were riding juggernauts of death into battle while singing and laughing and now, they were providing aid and respect to not only their comrades but the enemy as well.

Amazing graaaceee

A hauntingly sad and seemingly profound song floated like fog over the battle field from somewhere among the humans.

How sweet the sound

Funeral pyres and graves were dug according to cultural wishes, wounded were cared for regardless of species or alignment in the war. Bodies counted and tears were shed that day and as the last sun in the sky fell below the horizon, Krillna found himself surrounded by his warriors and humans.

Holding a strange liquid in his cup, the humans called it beer…or maybe stout?...Krillna looked to the leader of the humans as she stood upon a table laden with food and drink.

“Tonight, we celebrate our victory!” The humans cheered and the Cantraxans yipped and howled like pups.

“Tonight, we mourn our glorious fallen!” With a silence that choked the very soul, every human raised their drink to the memory of those they had lost and drank deeply. Krillna and his warriors all mimicked the humans in their silence and honors.

“Tonight…we honor our worthy enemies.” The commander of the humans raised her cup one last time and as one all the humans followed. Krillna could not see the reason behind the last one but was not about to comment on it while surrounded by humans.

Instruments were tuned and soon employed to their fullest extent as humans began dancing and singing, wagers were made, games were played and for a few moments Krillna could almost believe that they were simply back in his homeland celebrating the lunar convergence festival.

Spotting the human leader on the outskirts of the revelry Krillna silently approached the human as she slowly drank and watched those she had shed blood with. Stepping on a fallen can of some kind alerted the commander and as she whipped her head towards Krillna, he froze in place…the look in her eyes was not that of a celebration, but rather that of battle mad soldiers. Items within reach categorized as weapons, responses and plans ranging from peacefully violent to disturbingly chaotic flashed through her face in seconds. Her grip on the cup she held and the tensing of her muscles told Krillna that she had to stop herself from launching the cup at his face.

Raising his clawed hands in a sign of peace Krillna approached the commander slowly. As he approached the tiny human, no more than five feet tall, Krillna noticed tears leaking from her eyes in a steady stream cutting tracks through the remaining dirt and grime upon her cheeks. Hands shaking the commander raised the nearly impromptu projectile to her mouth and took a steadying sip before addressing the large warrior.

“What can I do for you Pack-Master?” Asked the commander as she turned her eyes back to the celebration before her.

“You do not celebrate victory like the others? Why do you spill tears so freely War Mother?” Krillna asked, using the honorific of the greatest female warriors of his people.

“I uh…it just takes a little time for me to wind down from battle and get into the spirit of things, eventually I’ll head out and show these youngsters how to really party but for now I will just have to deal with the aftermath of the adrenalin.” The commander said with a small shake to her voice.

“I have heard of this adrenalin, most species would simply die if exposed to it but you humans produce it naturally?” The Pack-Master asked.

“Yes, our bodies naturally produce it and well…it dissipates quicker for some and for others it sticks around longer. Battle madness, bloodlust, berserker rage and more are just different names of the same thing, active or excess adrenalin…our minds are changed and muscles freed of restraints while under its influence but afterwards we have to put the beast back in the cage and deal with the mess it made, physically, mentally and spiritually.” The commander responded with a look in her eyes that said she was looking deep into the past.

“How did you humans tame the Gierophants? It was previously thought impossible to even safely approach them never mind ride them or direct them.” Krillna asked in an attempt to steer the conversation away from the maudlin thoughts the commander seemed to be sinking into.

With an almost visible brightening of her features the commander looked up at Krillna.

“We didn’t actually tame them, we were trying to find either a good escape route to get everyone out or possibly a way to ambush the Slentine army, make them fight on two fronts as it were. We ran across the herd of Gierophants by accident and sort of came up with the plan on the spot, we figured if they started to stampede in our direction the base would be destroyed but if they went just little to the side they would hit our enemies. Jackson over there used to be what we call a ‘Cowboy’ and said if you can point a bull’s nose in one direction the body would follow, so we made some lassos and climbing rigs and well, the rest is history.” The commander finished with a small shrug and a decidedly less shaky sip of her drink.

Krillna was almost to shocked to breath.

“You found a herd of the planet’s largest and most dangerous animal, decided to irritate them into charging you with the enemy directly behind, hoping that they would run over said enemy and while they did that you threw ropes on them so you could climb onto them and ride them…you humans are insane.” with a shake of his great furred head Krillna could only thank the seven skies that these lunatics were on their side.

With a laugh the commander tipped the last of her drink back and wrapped her hand around one of his fingers, his hand being large enough to completely encompass her own, and began to pull him towards the firelight of the bonfires, a mischievous light in her eyes and a smile that spoke of wicked delights to come on her lips.

“Oh you haven’t even begun to see the madness of humanity, come and we shall sing you songs of our people.” The commander laughed as the crowd enveloped them, music wound through the air like smoke, soldiers and warriors alike danced and spun and Krillna could only laugh as he downed the rest of his drink and threw reservations to the wind with a final thought.

‘Humans are weird, but wonderful.

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johnnypsycho · 20 days

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I saw a post the other day, about how humans are indestructible. How nothing can stop us.

Shot in the arms? The breast? Even in the lungs or the head? Nothing we can't recover from.

Acid in the eyes or even burning alive? We're not dead yet. Not dead soon.

We can recover from basically anything if we have the willpower to do so and even with way less resources and medical aid than you might think.

And that's what we seem to be to other species. On a spaceship it's always the human that willingly goes into danger zone, because they very probably will survive about anything that would kill other species immediately.

Except for when a human comes back alive but not quite so. Sometimes a human comes back and just a few days later is getting sick. Some are coughing blood and some are just slowly losing energy, always needing more sleep, until they never wake up again.

Sometimes humans survive the battlefield, but die slowly later on and no one knows why. They seemed fine. They didn't even have an injury. They just... Slowly withered away. Very very slowly. And most of the time very very painful.

The tale of the indestructible human was just that. A tale. A myth. But it kept getting repeated. It kept getting told. Because it was interesting, unbelievable, heroic.

But the truth? It was gruesome, hard to hear and even harder to tell. It was a horror story. And worst of all: It was even harder to believe than the myth.

But then there was this day. A spaceship, alone, no help could reach them. Not fast enough. Something needed fixing. But there was radiation coming off it and all of the protective gear was damaged and no longer useable since the ship crashed into a meteor only a few days prior. Nothing too bad happened. Just the storage. The storage and with it all the gear in it.

And now they needed it, noone would survive the radiation. Noone except for maybe...

They asked the humans, there were two of them on the ship, and they were indestructible, right? Surely they could go and fix it. They could save them all.

When they approached them with their request, one immediately nodded, while the other looked shocked.

"You can't go in there."

"Of course, I can."

"You will die!"

Everyone in the room looked taken aback. Surely they wouldn't die? Humans didn't die. That's what everyone said.

The human indeed shook their head.

"I'll be fine. And we will all die if no one goes in there."

"Oh, please, don't. Don't do this. Don't sacrifice yourself."

"I have to."

"I'll come with you!"

"You absolutely will not."

"But- but you need help!"

"I don't. And you know that as well as I do. Stay here. I'll go." The human stood up and went to leave.

"I'll go! Instead of you!"

"No!" Fast. Loud. Fierce. "It"ll be me." They went away.

Their friend tugged on their arm and tried to convince them to stay, but they just shook off their arm.

The captain was worried. Why were they arguing?

"Nothing will happen to them. Humans are indestructible, after all. Am I right?"

They just looked at the captain with tears in their eyes and stormed off, in the other direction as their crewmate.

A few hours later the brave human came back from their mission. It was successful. Everything was done. And without so much of a scratch at the humans body. They congratulated them, praised them. Even their human friend came back and hugged them, tightly, with still teary eyes.

The next days the humans spent a lot of time in their rooms, scarcely coming out, the one praised as their hero not eating well. They became weaker, day by day, while their friend stayed at their side, holding their hand and talking to them, even while they were asleep.

Of course, the crew worried, but they still believed, it was just exhaustion. After all, it was a difficult mission. And they saved all of their lives. They deserved the rest.

Until one day they heard sobbing. When they opened the door, they saw the human, laying on their friends body. Their still warm body, but without breath in their lungs and without a beat in their heart.

They were dead. Impossible.

Humans are indestructible.

"No!" The other human cried out loud, when they tried to take the body away. When they tried to touch them, when they tried to understand what happened. They were not injured. So why did they-

For a week, the other human didn't leave the room. Didn't talk to anyone. Didn't eat.

Everyone was worried. Would they lose them too? Was something happening to the humans? Maybe they were sick? A sickness even they couldn't survive?

But this human came back. Looking paler and older than before. But they came back alive.

Only then the captain dared to ask. "When you said, they'd die. You-"

"I meant it. It killed them. They went in, because you asked them. But it killed them."

"But I thought-"

"We are not. We never were. But they let you believe. Because they wanted to save us."

"Why didn't you tell us? We would have never let them go in there."

"I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because it was either them or me."

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johnnypsycho · 26 days

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johnnypsycho · 28 days

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speechless. the pose. the expression. this should be a painting.

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johnnypsycho · 1 month

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Zoozve, my beloved

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johnnypsycho · 2 months

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The Old Wanderers

They come from a planet long dead, made molten by their expanding star. Their forms over the years have become vastly diverse from the use of biotech implants to entire gene modifications, and can only be recognized as a single species by the restless look they always have. Solans, they call themselves, rarely organized in the vast cosmos. They seek only the occasional kind host in their never ending journeys through the stars, not looking for somewhere in particular, just looking. To crews that take them on, there is an old knowledge: Solans bring fortune to their hosts, one good turn for another. Perhaps it is their occasional tinkering with ship parts to keep them running longer than they should, perhaps the morale they bring as companions to all who would have them, perhaps they are simply good luck to have, but stories of these Solans keeping ships in the sky is worth the meager rations and small rooms to dwell in. Sometimes they will travel with ships for far longer than a single journey, becoming a friendly face to hold the crew together, or even considered a fixture of the ship itself. They themselves find this reputation rather amusing, calling themselves “Fair Folk” from legends of their own planet. Like these “Folk”, they can be a force to be reckoned with when someone affects them outside their rules (Ask before taking, do no harm to the innocent, leave choice to those who will be effected), or even just to defend their hosts; Solans are infamous for their “protective aggression,” fighting ruthlessly for the sake of bonded shipmates, even against more of their own kind (which they seem to inherently recognize). What is little spoken-of, however, is their greatest advantage: they are wanderers, observers, and collectors.Younger Solans will use their knowledge and supplies of dangerous weaponry of different species to hold their own against larger opponents, and elder Solans, more titanium than carbon-based, will know ships, enemy flight patterns, and tactical weak points to target in ships or even being-to-being contact with little more than their own appendages or a basic plasma cannon. This dichotomy, unsettling companion and infamous warrior, can polarize ship-crews about whether to accept Solans and carefully observe their unusual rules, or keep a safe distance from them, but one thing is agreed on: they never stop moving. Even in sleep, they will shift and turn, claiming to see things that aren’t in their “dreams”, and a core aspect of most Solan religions is the soul continuing to another place after the body dies, with the remains most often burned to ash and scattered over the molten surface of their dead world. Solans, even in death, do not stop moving. They simply wait.

Submitted by: @thefangi

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