Across the Universe Found

That Lovely Jelly Bath Feeling

Lunch was surprisingly nondescript after I got the Candy Girls settled, and had given them the details as to what had taken so long. They were curious about the whole mating chompy-chomp-chomp bit, as well as how I managed to dodge it. They gave me high fives all around as well as made comments about what bullshit it was to have to get gnawed on to prove I was 'with' someone. I couldn't refute their sentiments, they were my own after all. Those within earshot of us seemed offended, prompting me to explain how humans tended to exchange verbal vows, and then in most cases simple to extravagant metal rings, placed on culturally significant fingers to indicate a permanent mating.

There was much confusion from the aliens around us after that. They wanted to know how we knew who was with whom if we didn't blend our pheromones, the main argument being that little metal circles could be lost, or worn fraudulently. When I told them that our kind weren't about the pheromones? They all seemed floored. I told them humans didn't have any way of knowing who was potentially a better match for them genetically speaking, based on ones pheromones smelling better than someone else's. But the trade off for that I went on say, was that we weren't slaves to our own bodies either... no omegas being abused by alphas high on the fumes of their own self importance here, thank you very much. I'd just as soon have to deal with my asshat of an ex than have to deal with my own body making me a victim to any loser with the right 'scent' that my body thinks is 'man' enough to make strong babies, even though he's got the emotional IQ of a rock. After I told them all this, they didn't seem overly impressed with my perception of pheromonal mating.

The Candy Girls thought it was a riot however, and were having a hard time not laughing their collective asses off. I just shrugged and finished eating while Shade and Shadow tried distracting the masses with information about the dermal injector and the treatment cartridges. After which there was much excitement, since as we already knew, there was going to be a demand for the little buggers. Seemed finding out it was my idea earned me forgiveness for being so negative about how barbaric the universe seemed to really be. Not that I really cared how they felt about about me. I have no patience for those who think they are better than me, when they know nothing about me. These beings, though polite, seemed to think we were uncivilized and of a lesser intelligence, and yet we weren't the ones who'd end up a drooling, mewling, goo-gushing mess the moment a pheromonally nicely scented person walked by that our biological clock found attractive. Don't get me wrong, I had much pity for anyone who's body betrayed them like that... how undignified, especially when it was involuntary.

By the time the fawning over the devices was over and Baka-San had been plied with orders for more up to his pointy little ears, me and the girls had finished our lunches. As we left the galley to the sounds of excited chatter and people yammering about having to get in touch with this relative or that friend, who was in a precarious mating situation, and in need of the little gizmo, I turned to Baka-San and inquired, "Are you going to have all the supplies you need to fill that many orders? Let alone the amount that will no doubt flood your inbox the moment those guys get the word out? You really need to charge them you know? Even if it's just the cost of materials." I raise a brow at him as he looks a bit dazed by the notion of having to crank out gun after gun.

"I really will need to figure out the logistics of this. And yes I will need to charge a fee of some sort." He nods in agreement.

"You really ought to nail down a design patent too. So no one can steal your idea. You worked hard on that, and made sure it was safe and effective... someone else may not be so ethical."  I continue warningly. He looks alarmed at the very idea of a poor quality knock off floating around, possibly endangering unwitting desperate buyers. "You are right! What should I do to make certain that will all know my works from a fraud though? I am not proficient at this sort of thing." He looks so forlorn, I decided to help him. "You come up with a logo, a pattern or emblem that can be imprinted onto the surface of the guns that is unique. Then all will know it's been made by you on sight. It's a fairly simple technique used in human merchandising regularly." He looks hopeful at this, and then I see his eyes flicker towards the hand I waved around during my explanation. He motions towards it and I raise it for him to grasp and hold up to his face. "Might I use this image then?" He asks with a child like hope glimmering in his eyes as he stares down at the tattoo on my wrist. I don't have the heart to deny that puppy expression so agree.