KY321B | voice | day 012

[backsassin]

Just want to clarify something I said when I first got here:

Whatever brought me to this place didn’t just get me stuck in human form. It actually made me human.

Case in point: sweat glands. Clawdites don’t have them. Humans do.

On a related note: how do you all deal with being so wet all the time? I know it’s how you thermoregulate, but it feels so gross. I feel like I need to be carrying around a towel…

[ It’s one of many, many complaints Zam has about her new human physiology, but in the interest of not offending her majority-human fellow islanders, she’ll keep them to herself. For now. ]

Anyone else get their species swapped upon waking up here? And more importantly: what are the chances we'll be able to be turned back?

Comments

[sharktrash]

[ He echoes that laugh with his own amused snort. ]

Why, you're the diversity candidate, obviously.

[ If it's really some sick fucks' idea of a battle royale reality show, there might be watchers from different worlds if the folks dragged in are, right? Why not non-humans? ]

Shame, but I'm sure we'll get over it. Anyway, we don't really know shit about the process, but if getting you here changed you up, I imagine it's at least possible that getting out would turn you back. More reason to work on that, huh?

[backsassin]

Well, can't fault them for their efficiency. Non-human, non-Earthborn, and an involuntary amputee—I check all the boxes.

[ Well, the non-human part is obviously iffy now, at least from an outside perspective. Zam's certainly not going to stop viewing herself as a Clawdite, no matter how long she's stuck like this. ]

We can hope. No offense, but I'm not exactly keen on being a human for the rest of my life. This body is so... inflexible. Feels like being in a straitjacket sometimes.

[sharktrash]

See? Three-for-one, that's two spots saved for the current cash-cow options.

[ Which he's not really internet savvy enough to even try to describe, but "spunky middle aged ladies" is somewhere along his thought process. ]

I take a little offense to that. [ He sounds more amused than offended though. ] I always considered myself quite flexible! Do you usually have no bones or somethin'?

[backsassin]

Nah, Clawdites have bones. Some of us just have a knack for rearranging them. And I like to think I was one of the best.

[ Maybe it's Zam's high pain tolerance or maybe she just lucked out genetically. Whatever the case, she was capable of taking and sustaining forms that most Clawdites couldn't even dream of. Really, it makes it even more aggravating that she was chosen for this place's inexplicable humanization experiment. ]

But now, it's like... if I can't reach something, I can't just make myself able to reach it. Which, uh, seems to happen a lot in this form. [ Really, if she'd known she'd be getting stuck in one shape for the foreseeable future, she would've chosen something taller... ] And I have to worry about dislocations now—I can't just extend a joint's range of motion whenever I feel like it.

[ And that's just musculoskeletal shortcomings! Zam could go on about other categories if she wanted to. Still, she makes some attempt at diplomacy, trying to think of anything this body is actually good at. ]

You guys have better stamina, though, I'll give you that. I used to need a breathpack to keep up, but I haven't had any problems since washing up here without it. It's kind of strange actually; it didn't even leave any scars...

[ Which, given it had been grafted directly into her lungs, it really should have. ]

[sharktrash]

Rearranging bones. Like, on a whim. Okay.

[ He's been hearing some wild bullshit here but this has to be the closest to body horror he's gotten so far. He doesn't necessarily disbelieve it at this point, but it's certainly... something. ]

Can't say I relate.

[ Being six feet tall with long limbs probably helps with that though. ]

Breathpack? You allergic to oxygen or something?

[backsassin]

[ You could hear the dubiousness in his tone a mile off. Whatever. Humans—and other single-formed species—can never relate. It feels good to get those complaints off her chest anyway. ]

Nah. Just got a different kind of respiratory system than humans. There's lots of boring biology behind it I won't get into. Basically: you all are natural persistence hunters. You can run and run without stopping in a way not everyone in the galaxy can. So we make tech to close the gap.

Same way other species have to use surgery and holoshrouds to mimic what Clawdites can do naturally. Interspecies interactions are all a big imitation game like that. [ A wry huff of laughter. ] Though we changelings are the only ones who get called out on it.

[ An imitation game—or an arm's race in Zam's line of work. Of course, she doesn't mind it. Life wouldn't be nearly as interesting without her galaxy's variety of people and the challenges hunting them—or befriending them—can present. ]

So it's really just humans on Earth? No convergent sentient species or genetic offshoots to make things more interesting?

[sharktrash]

We do need to stop eventually.

[ He thinks himself in a pretty good shape -- his job demands it -- but he never even considered that humans' ability to keep moving might be intimidating to anyone else. It's not a big deal, right? Everyone needs rest and to pace themselves and then they would be able to do it? ]

Huh. So what's your favorite imitation?

[ Surely she has a favorite if it's as easy as she says! Squalo thinks whether it would be cool to have an ability like that, then decides that it's not possible to look any better than he already does. ]

Uh. [ What the fuck was Jaeger and his company? They didn't seem human, that's for sure, and there was... something about Uni, too, but as far as he knows, there's nothing about outer space civilizations in their databanks so far. ] We've run into some nasty guys that looked like zombies corrupted by Flames. I'm not sure what exactly was going on there. [ The explanation came after his canon point! ] So technically it's not just humans. But nothing, like, Star Wars -esque. [ heh ]