- Character: Demigod
- Object: Deodorant
- Genre/Tone: Sci-Fi
Image by Raziel Abulafia
As I remember, whenever gods show up in Star Trek, they end up being aliens with advanced technology, but they aren’t actually divinities. So with this prompt I wondered what it would be like to be a real demigod in a world of Star Trek-like technology. This is not a full exploration of that possibility, but it was a fun start. I think that adding deordorant to the mix just begs for a funny, light-hearted story. And maybe that’s ok. As usual, if you end up trying the prompt, I’d love to read what you come up with!
Tulia’s superiors had been impressed with her knowledge of technology; she’d been hired almost on sight; her resume and references were impeccable. They saw only the surface, what they did not see was the centuries of experience that she’d cultivated before the last decade. That’s what happens your father is the roman god of the forge. He didn’t go by his original name anymore; not since Star Trek had come out in the mid-20th century.
Speaking of Star Trek, now that technology had caught up with sci-fi, she found herself struggling with what should have been a simple task: Getting the replicator to create deodorant, this was an absolute necessity for interstellar travel. Showers were often limited and strictly scheduled on long journeys, and storage was at a premium. But people get stinky, no matter what century they live in.
She pulled her most recent attempt out of the glowing box at her feet. It looked like a standard bar of deodorant. It smelled good, but it crumbled into a sandy dust as she dragged it across the skin on her wrist. Gross, but at least this one wasn’t gluing her pores shut. Dust gums up the equipment, so this was not a usable product.
Her phone rang. It was her father.
“How’s the new job going?” he asked her.
“It’s fine.” She said, too quickly.
“Don’t lie to the gods… or your father.”
She started explaining the issue, deodorant too gluey, too sandy, too anything, except for deodoranty.
“Back in my day…”
“Oh-lympus! here he goes again!” she thought.
“…humans weren’t worried about scents they way they are today! The athletes cleaned up by rubbing themselves with olive oil and scraping it off with their salt and sweat! They’d even sell the scrapings as an aphrodisiac…”
“That’s disgusting, dad…” she trailed off, that was an idea –maybe the mixture needed more oil. She tapped in the codes as her dad chatted onward, adding commands for a basic oil, water, emulsifier mixture.
It worked. The next lump of deodorant stayed in bar-form, and left a thin layer of pleasant smelling film dissolving into her forearm. Humanity could continue it’s trek into the stars with minimal stench.