4 years ago
I mean, based on what we've seen over nearly 30 years' worth of movies, comics, novels and video games, Yautja (or Hish, or Predators, or Hunters, of WHATEVER...) don't strike me as a terribly romantic people. I mean, we're talking about a culture that is not only fine with, but demands the large-scale hunting of other sentient species for shits and giggles.
Need to know who'd be the best husband? SEN THE MALES OFF TO KILL SHIT, WHOEVER'S STILL ALIVE IN A YEAR GETS SOME POONTANG.
Lost a slap-fight with Schwarzenegger? BLOW YOURSELF UP.
Fail to kill Batman in the allotted time frame? COMMIT SEPUKU.
Pyramid we left behind covered by a million years' worth of ice? BLAST IT WITH A GIANT SPACE LASER.
Kill an unarmed old lady? DISHONOR! Kill an armed old lady? DAMN, NICE SHOT!
Coming of age ritual? RELEASE XENOMORPHS ON PRIMITIVE PLANET AND GET WORSHIPED AS GODS SO WE CAN FIGHT ACID MONSTERS AND THEN USE THEIR BLOOD TO BURN SYMBOLS INTO OUR FACES, NATCH.
An alien queen, the most dangerous being in the universe? YEAH, JUST THROW IT IN THE SHIP WITH A BALLGAG IN ITS MOUTH, WHAT COULD GO WRONG?
Need to get to the surface of a planet? SIT IN GIANT LAWN DARTS AND GET SHOT INTO THE ATMOSPHERE.
I'm just saying... This is not a species that's real big on things like nuance or logic. They once got into a giant battle with an army of street gangs in the middle of New York and then left because, hey, it started raining, and who wants to get wet when you're killing shit, M'IRITE?
Their culture is entirely based around hunting and killing really dangerous aliens, and EVERYONE apparently does it! That charismatic young politician who had the great plan to create affordable clean energy for Yautja everywhere? WHOOPS, HE DIED FISTFIGHTING A SPACE YETI. The brilliant scientist who discovered cold fission? TOO BAD, STEPPED ON BY THE FUCKBEETLE OF PLANET LOOGABOOGA.
This is not a great way to progress as a civilization, is what I'm saying.
They are either completely bugfuck insane as a species, or their brains are so fundamentally different from ours that we are literally incapable of comprehending their thought processes. They're like Cthulhu on speed. Do we really for one second think that their idea of "romance" (assuming they have one) would be anything like ours?
I mean, even assuming Scar and Lex are mentally compatible (which they really shouldn't be, given she watched him slaughter, like, 6 of her colleagues mercilessly, but never mind), why would anyone assume they're physically compatible? For all we know, Ole' Scar's packing a retractable two-pronged proboscis covered in quills down there, and Jesus Christ, why have I been writing about this subject for this long?
I think there may be something wrong with me.