The warmth led to predictions of warmer weather, less rain, an increase in pollen count as the trees responded, and a high danger of hornet attacks. She gritted her teeth as she read the news and then went up to the attic to dig out the armored hornet-suit and helmet required for leaving the house. She made enough to afford the suit, and her job had made it clear from day one that certain hazards would not be acceptable reasons for not making it into work. Those unacceptable reasons included things like tornadoes, flooding, hornets, and mass rioting (as long as it hadn’t blocked all the roads, though it was acceptable if she was absent because she'd called the company helicopter line and been told that helitaxi wasn't available or that they were staying in place because of reported surface-to-air missiles being used by the hypothetical rioters). They'd handed her a whole long list of catastrophes that she had to keep track of and act according to protocol on in order to stay employed. On the plus side, the benefits were amazing, the protocols that she had to follow for emergencies were well-thought-out and included details on how to safeguard relatives, and for the really expensive protocols, there was an emergency fund/supplies available for her use and draw, though she would have to plan out how to explain it fully. Fortunately, thinking ahead counted well towards her annual review, and so it had been no trouble to get the hornet-suit for herself and her daughter when the first hornet incursion was reported within one range of their current temperature zone.


Inspiration: "Feel So Numb" - Rob Zombie -> "you see it" -> http://gawker.com/this-hornet-will-be-the-last-thing-you-see-before-you-d-1428724767
Story potential: High.
Notes: Because eek. And also, wow, what job is that cool/demanding?

A wave of sorrow was the first warning of the tear-drinkers' migration. The first year, the colonists had no idea what it meant, and several died of grief when the migration arrived. Well, that was what it was written down as in people's journals from that time. The official record was that they had died of extreme dehydration over the course of two days. At the first wave, even those people with some natural resistance to sorrow or weeping didn't know what to do. Some tried to treat it as any other depression. Some tried to get others to shake it off. Some believed there was a toxin or poison in the ground and the colony was doomed--those were not so far off. Then the tear-drinkers arrived, and all the emotions were doubled and tripled. A few of the resistant tried to go out and drag the butterfly-covered weepers back indoors, but they succumbed instantly to the touch of the tear-drinkers' proboscises.


Inspiration: http://www.newscientist.com/article/dn10826-moths-drink-the-tears-of-sleeping-birds.html via DamnInteresting
Story potential: Medium
Notes: Not so much a story idea as a pretty interesting hazard to colonization.

I stay away from the jar of flies she keeps in every room. They're her spies, and they buzz in her ears at night when she takes all the jars into her bedroom and lets them fly around while she sleeps. Sometimes this means she knows things she shouldn't. Sometimes it also means she believes her dreams are true. This can be very bad if she has nightmares about betrayals. I suspect that's what happened to my brother. Or maybe he did mean to betray her, to run away, to crush her flies and pull the wings from her ladybugs and overturn her bee hives. I don't know. The flies don't talk to me. I don't want them to. I keep a bird in my room, and I've warned her that sometimes the bird gets out, and if her flies come into my room, they may be eaten. Sometimes flies still come to my room, but not as much as when I was little, when they swarmed in until I had hysterics.

Inspiration: "I stay away" by Alice in Chains on Jar of Flies.
Story Potential: High.
Notes: This is so creepy and--I just want to spend a little more time here, even if it makes my skin itch.