This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Few_Zookeepergame105 on 2024-12-24 22:05:47+00:00.

“How many times a sol minute?”

“Anywhere from fifty to three thousand. About, uh, fifty thousand standard time.”

“For how long?”

Karl paused. “Well, depends. This one,” he indicated his upper forelimb, “Six sol hours.” How long’s that in standard time?"

“Too long.”

He chuckled. “Well, like I said. Depends on what you get done. Pain tolerance. That sort of thing.”

Ftk’al blinked wetly, stalks lowering to examine the coloured scars. “Do they display warnings? Are they tribal?”

Karl rubbed his mandible with one of the extended digits on his paws, and raised his upper abdominal joints in a gesture that supposedly showed ‘gentle unassuredness’, aka a ‘shrug’ .

“Not for everyone. Some people get them to look scary. Some get them to show their family history, or military units, things like that.”

Ftk’al used two of his eyes to look at Karl as the rest continued to examine the markings. “What do yours mean? You are a fearsome warrior, that is known. Do they document your victories?”

Karl made the noise of amusement amongst his kind, loud and quite frightening, like a war cry or berseker scream. When the din had subsided, and Ftk’al’s stalks had extended from the safety of his carapace, he wiped his eyes. “No, nothing like that. “This one,” he pointed to his forearm, “Is my mother’s name.”

“In case you do not remember it?”

Karl chuckled and carried on, “This is my old marine regiment. This one,” he indicated another patch of vibrant skin, “Is the flag of my hometown.”

Ftk’al gestured towards an image of a fearsome looking animal, sharp hunter’s eyes, thick fur, a cunning look in the way it held its head. “What of this? Did you slay it?”

Karl looked at him, eye-topping hair-ridges raised. “You what? This thing? It’s my pet. His name is Fluffy.”

“Your pet?”

“He’s a cat.” Karl laughed again. “You guys are so weird.”

Ftk’al didn’t know what to say. “You pay hundreds of units to be stabbed by a mad stranger. You get bright images, the likes of which on my world would scream ‘predator’, and send us into shock. Why? Why do you torture yourself like this? We know your physical prowess. You do not need to display it. And you call me strange!"

Karl smiled, the semi-predatory grin that, apparently, displayed mirth or affection, and not a savage beast’s warning. “I don’t know. I enjoy it. They’re not for you. They’re for me. They’re of things I treasure. Some of them are just of things I like. I’ve got one on my ass that says ‘your name’.”

“You have my name on your rear?”

“It’s an old joke. You wouldn’t get it.”

“There are a lot of things I do not get, Karl. So many things. And I do not think there is time in the universe for you to explain them to me.”

Karl shrugged again. “Hey, that’s how it is. Horses for courses, swings and roundabouts. Takes all sorts, dunnit.”

“Y… Yes?”

Karl slapped Ftk’al’s carapace companionably, nearly toppling him. “you should think about getting one. Would look pretty sick with a tattoo or two!"

Ftk’al blanched.“Why would you wish illness upon me? You are all unbearably strange.”

Karl smiled again. “Like I said, takes all sorts mate, takes all sorts.”