Grrl Power #684 – Cosmic food court

Actually, Sydney's wrong. The next stall over is an aromatherapy booth that sells scented candles for races with similar miasmic preferences to races like Neo-Otyugh. Scents include "Stinking Cloud," "Boiled Durain," "August Whale Corpse," "Pickled Skunk Anus," "Twelve Year Old Boy That Hasn't Figured Out Deodorant is an Absolute Necessity - Times 1,000," "Corpse in a Dufflebag," "Fart Salad," "Surprise Sweaty Testicles," "Gas Station Egg Salad Sandwich Left on the Dashboard One Afternoon in Phoenix," "Upsettingly Dark Urine Your Drunk Roommate Accidentally Loosed All Over a Hotplate," and "Olives."

If you don't know what a Neo-Otyugh is, it's a D&D creature that lives in the sewers and eats" well, its version of mana from the heavens. If you get my meaning. They also lurk in piles of offal to surprise attack prey. So you can imagine they don't exactly smell pristine. Honestly lighting their farts might improve their smell.

The problem of putting a bunch of aliens or even a variety of fantasy creatures in close proximity to each other, even excluding social and racial incompatibilities, would be things like this. Some races would be incredibly sensitive to even slightly offputting smells, whereas some might communicate through smells like a race of advanced space skunks or something. And then there's situations like, I don't know, I don't imagine orcs or klingons are particularly hygienic. Any number of races would have major issues with the way any other race smells, and that's before you factor in cuisine, or what they like their detergent or incense to smell like. I really think a stellar melting pot like this station would either need serious odor scrubbers, or everyone would need to have filters installed in their noses.

For those curious, Sydney's munching on a granola bar or something similar. She carries two with her in her utility belt. Also gum.

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