Off-Planet transmission 005: anthropomorphism_ effervescence_dance

The Gonarch's Lair and Off-Planet podcasts

005: anthropomorphism_ effervescence_dance The tangible regret shown by subject A, following an evening of excess, invoked little sympathy from B for his self-inflicted ailment. They generally lack any real concern for the others well-being, seemingly oblivious to the impact being entirely alone would have on their psyche. Details of the previous nights entertainment suggests A has achieved a new level of lunacy: he has begun fabricating fictional friends. Playing pretend is a normal part of early cognitive development, but regression of this scale could suggest a desire for more tactile relationships. I daresay this is something B would be more than willing to provide. Thankfully the inane chatter returned before they probed the matter further, shifting to an uninteresting debate around drink carbonation. The tone of the conversation inevitably collapsed as they moved on to tales of flatulence: an unsavoury chat that unveiled underlying insecurities that A has, thus far, kept hidden. B displayed no empathy, but perhaps he was merely bitter about the derision he’d suffered for an earlier miscalculation. I was genuinely captivated by their concluding discussion around dancing. I have always envied this species ability to move so freely in physical space, but their suggestion that this expression can be both voluntary and involuntary is fascinating to me. Perchance, once our subjects cycles are complete, I would be permitted the opportunity to temporarily inhabit their husks. I’d really like to take them for a spin. Their discovery of a, previously assumed decommissioned, communication device in the pod shouldn’t be ignored. I would appreciate guidance on which protocol to enforce: should they be allowed to reach out into the void to give them some semblance of hope, or must we shatter their futile fantasies and confirm that they truly are alone? Signed, An Observer Intermission: Tin Soldier Canister 3 by Jack Lancaster