[ic=Teaser]
the soaring shambles the bioscrap and metalskeleton
the mossfarmers down in carrion glen-feeding the fields the dead
above saprozoics philosophize with voltaics
the cores last refuge for the small sentient life (humans)
the autodefenders like rusting barb wire
the cores! lifeblood for the Ageless no food just energy
Their minds trapped in failing bodies
pitiless dexies pummel street vendors . Streets-Ha!
Wire gyros-hooks for feet-torsos zipping around
humans like pretty shiny things-adorn the cores with all that they find
pack animals like the brgyvff and the drskllyi haul in new junk and toss out the old
Aesthetic
Redemption/Discovery
learning what previous generations did to leave the world so fractured
sarcasm. redemption. dark humor. inevitability
reusing stuff so much that its literally harmfull to anyone and everything. the inhabitants having to reuse stuff for millenia-creates this dark world.
The world is a blasted frustrating place. It is filled with endless corridors, alcoves, crevices and recesses formed from millions of tons of scrapped metal. Dangerous crawly things like giant centipedes and technophiliac spiders roam the miasma of metallic landscapes.
The creatures are a disturbing mixture of mechanical insanity and absurd evolutionary patterns fueled by centuries of exposure to radioactivity.
The radioactivity is actually a biproduct from the Ancient world. Before the FALL the world was a veritable eden. Incredible machines were powered by a finite resource that the inhabitants did not realize had long term effects.
The only glimpses of the previous civilizations come in the form of discoveries. Wandering the miasma of technoscape, upon closer inspection reveals a world well worn with time. Blakmos (blackmoss) covers ancient architecture, energy banks and ...
Unfortunately, political structures like the AGELESS Hegemony strangle any individual or truthful research. The AGELESS use a belief structure of fear to control the masses of humans that congregate at THE SPEAR. MELCHOR are largely loners that search the murky depths of AKAGASH for REFITE
REFITE or BIOSCRAP are two very valuable commodities. REFITE is technology that can be salvaged and repaired or worked into a new bit of TECH. BIOSCRAP is living tissue that can be used for energy, or weaponry or sustenance.
The current world is so far removed from the historical timeline that nobody knows what past generations have done to render the world in such a way. All the inhabitants of this world know is recent history. In a sense they are ignorant of the grand scheme of things-in that they do not know why the world is the way it is-but they do know up from down, what is dangerous, what is safe to eat. They are very good at surviving in an increasingly hostile world.
--------------------------------
Whats of value?
food,paper,DIRT SEEDS space clean h20 energy conductors(like metal, not ashkenazy)
music (records,instruments,written) RUST FUELS, ENERGY CORES (all encompassing power source, better than money)
jobs: Dirtmonger,mossfarmer,philosophizer,energizer,moss auger, rustreader
regurgitator, rustsniffer, scavenger, machine worker (machinist)
Failing technology
Realists clash with those who refuse to change
Seeing a de evolving world
Populations converge in places called Cores. The cores are safehavens
Many races live together in close quarters, shitty conditions create tension fueled by racial tension
The skitterish dex trade goods with melchor augers who read the rustprints for signs of good fortune.
[/ic]
Races
Humans
Energy pods arcolights scavenged weaponry and hosts of failing auto defenders
A strange mix of steel aztecian architecture and pulsing lights
seperated by 'man made' ideals like religion. social structures failing-attachments the Ageless are propegators of holding onto the failing tech/social structures
Highly susceptible to diseases due to low consumption of nutrients
Dex
Skitterish creatures pointy things scavengers (very good at it) live short brutal lives. no rules. Renegades. Dex are nomadic creatures. Folk lore by other races speculate that Dex young are born running to keep up with the herd. Immune to Disease
Melchor
Mechanical knowhow-very intelligent rely on machinery and energy thingies for defense/survival/sustenance large irredescant eyes. thick hides. bipeds. Incredible sense of smell rely on smell more than any other sense. centuries of living in subterranean environs and generally dark spaces have made them susceptible to intense light(blindness,dizziness,general disorientation) MOLE LIKE creatures susceptible to light
mechanical infusion in the older ones.
can smell gasses,rust fuels and bio energy long distances away
they carry plants to ward off metal monsters
glasses protect from intense light
wire assisted grip gloves
Melchors usually have one weakened limb due to a RUSTFUEL DEFECT (a hand, a leg or an eye etc)
they wear a lot of protective gear-long exposure to subterranean gases, rusts and elements
low light vision, pitch black able to sense better than most
breathe oxygen
Veervoo
lanky strong segmented bodies. 360degree motion of the head.
four arms top two are strong-good for lifting but have awkward 'finger' arrangement
bottom two are weak but can manipulate complex gadgets
the segmented bodies can bend in strange backward forward combinations
the dwellings are cramped tubelike structures that soar into the sky like abstract horizons
inhuman handholds.
Criddick(changename)(think metroid ball form)
Spherical creature. No eyes, sense movement via bioelectricty for hunting/defense they eat small insects. telepathic. telekinesis(minor) lifespan is quick, hatch grow. death is just a gradual slowing down until all bodily functions cease. and then a hardening of all bio material creating 'rocks'. graveyards are fields of the creatures (they go to the same places to die). not true dying.
they have a hive mind with some alpha criddick running the whole thing. it communicates messages back and forth etc.
as criddicks get older they gradually lose the connection with the hive mind and their telepathic abilities. new criddicks must be hatched within old criddicks. (criddicks lay eggs in the husks of the dead)
Voltaics
voltaic philosophers electric current creatures with sentience travel through conductive metals. and talk to the most obscure lonely people on the planet. they seem to get nourishment from this. they philosophize with anyone who will listen usually the lonely and the dejected or simply mad.
"How they keep themselves together with such wandering minds is beyond me!"
voltaics may possibly be energy in its rawest form. some say they are spirits of deceased humans or melchor.
[ooc]
Continue?
Yes/No
[/ooc]
This setting reminds me of heat death (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heat_death). The world's been used to the point that nothing can decay any further and entropy is almost perfectly preserved. An utterly static world. And yet so massive and meandering and bizarre that it can never become familiar.
edit: the Voltaics seem rather poetic.
"Would you like to know more?"
*Click*
Yes
Enjoying the scatter-shot staccato presentation method
Surreal intriguing a little disturbing
more please
[blockquote=Sarisa]they carry plants to ward off metal monsters[/blockquote]Awesome idea.
MOAR PLZ
The world is a blasted frustrating place. It is filled with endless corridors, alcoves, crevices and recesses formed from millions of tons of scrapped metal. Dangerous crawly things like giant centipedes and technophiliac spiders roam the miasma of metallic landscapes.
The creatures are a disturbing mixture of mechanical insanity and absurd evolutionary patterns fueled by centuries of exposure to radioactivity.
The radioactivity is actually a biproduct from the Ancient world. Before the FALL the world was a veritable eden. Incredible machines were powered by a finite resource that the inhabitants did not realize had long term effects. Legends tell of an eden far beneath the scarred surface-where energy is free for all and food is plentiful. Foolish thieves case the perilous passages that wind beneath the surface. Information in bits and pieces gleamed by nefarious means form the theory of the subterranean bountiful lands. It is protected, concealed, but the reward is great. This is a great legend and many search for its location.
The only glimpses of the previous civilizations come in the form of discoveries. Wandering the miasma of technoscape, upon closer inspection reveals a world well worn with time. Blakmoss (blackmoss) covers ancient architecture, energy banks and ...
Unfortunately, political structures like the AGELESS Hegemony strangle any individual or truthful research. The AGELESS use a belief structure of fear to control the masses of humans that congregate at THE SPEAR.
REFITE and BIOSCRAP are two very valuable commodities. REFITE is technology that can be salvaged and repaired or worked into a new bit of TECH. BIOSCRAP is living tissue that can be used for energy, or weaponry or sustenance.
ENERGY CORES are battery like power sources from the ages prior to the FALL. They have low energy output but last for decades-even centuries. The AGELESS use these cores to power their life-sustaining machines. They send adventurers from the relative safety of the SPEAR to search the wild for the cores. They pay well for the cores.
RUSTFUELS are a strange power source. The technological roots lie in the ingenuity of the thieving MELCHORS who can smell salvagable material over great distances-even through the cornocopia of technoscrap that covers the grids. The Melchor harness the rusts in a near miracle like procedure that yields incredibly amounts of energy-but only for a few fleeting minutes-hours in the most exceptional cases. The melchors suffer from side effects-rustlung, black cough, limb mutation etc. They are wretched creatures that search desperately for an alternative to the RUSTFUELS.
They do not have the strength in numbers to seize the SPEAR from the AGELESS Hegemony, nor the ENERGY CORE driven weapons. The Melchor society is one of disunity, mistrust, sickness, and overall hopelessness. It is their individual drive for preservation that keeps the species alive.
AKAGASH is the territorial homelands of the MELCHOR. This is where they travel to nest and spawn. There are permanent dwellings, constructed just below the surface. They are cozy considering the world, and make for a fine birthing hole. An aquifer just beneath the birthing tunnels, known only to the MELCHOR bring fresh water to the
The current world is so far removed from the historical timeline that nobody knows what past generations have done to render the world in such a way. All the inhabitants of this world know is recent history. In a sense they are ignorant of the grand scheme of things-in that they do not know why the world is the way it is-but they do know up from down, what is dangerous, what is safe to eat. They are very good at surviving in an increasingly hostile world.
Dozens of races coexist for survival. Survival is the primary concern of every sentient creature (and even non-sentient)
Dark creatures roam the Grids in search of tasty meals. Rust fuels and Energy Cores power long forgotten technology. The Ageless humans, husks of their former species, reside in the Spear, the only Core to be populated entirely by humans. The Ageless rule with an iron fist of fear, propaganda and coveted information. They wage a disinformation war against other Cores. Physical combat, i.e. wars are very costly and perhaps it is an instict or a feeling that the worlds current circumstance was brought about by large scale war-conflicts are small concentrated efforts over the few remaining resources/territory.
[ic]
The steady hum of an engine; Darkness-
A scene:
The Rust Reader squirmed vigorously in the Machines iron fist. A dirty strip of cloth had come undone from his foot wrapping and hung limply from his ankle. His feet kicked fiercely but his struggling was futile. After all, he was only human.
"Where are my fuel cells you scum-baked, rot-moss auger?" The machines metallic words were coated with human malice and it sent shivers up the rust-readers spine.
"It shall be known when the dying sun births its cosmic..." squeaked the reader, the grandiose tone he had meant to muster failing him.
The machine shook the man harder. "None of that...fortune telling- Show me where you hid my cells or your death will not be quick" The rust-reader stared blankly into the Living-Mechs single blue eye.
"Ah," stammered the rust-reader. He strained to look around him. The corridor was dark and quiet, save for the Live-Mechs humming engines. He spotted a faint light a little ways down the corridor.
"Where are my manners Gonz; would you mind setting me down first?" The rust-reader relaxed as he heard his silken tongue work its magic despite the fear growing in his empty belly.
"I have them stowed," the rust-reader nodded towards a large pile of unassuming metal scrap. "Over there", the human smiled genuinely.
The machine looked where the man had shrugged. There was just the barest hint of light bathing the soot coated wall. "You know the name my Maker gave me. Yet my fuel cells were not yours for the taking. You played a dangerous game little fortune teller. And you have lost." The Living-Mechs engine sputtered, breaking the spell of the mantra-like hum. The rust-reader's smile deepened.
"Of course Gonz; I had to borrow them. You understand 'borrow'?"
"I do not. If I release you and you return my fuel cells will you explain this word?" The machines blue eye flickered for a moment.
"Oh I promise Gonz. I'll tell you about 'borrow' and a dozen other words-if only you put me down first"
"It is as you say rust-reader". The mechanical hulk placed the human on the ground with surprising grace.
The rust-reader sighed deeply, shook his cloak and straightened his belt. He looked up at the Living-Mechs single, flickering blue eye, protruding from a black cylinder in its head casing. The rust-reader gave a half wave. The Living-Mechs eye did not move.
"Your battery is low Gonz."
"It is nearing terminal capacity auger." The Mechs voice dropped an octave halfway through the sentence.
"Allow me to gather your cells then-I shall be only a moment!" The rust-reader bolted for the nearest tunnel and was gone.
The Live-Mechs blue eye began to darken. A rat scurried up its hindquarters, across tightly wound wires and rust covered pistons and onto the machines back. The Mech deftly seized the rat with an iron fist. The hum of its engine began to fade. After a few moments all the sound that remained in the corridor was the frantic squeak of a rat trapped in an iron fist.
[/ic]
Quotehe radioactivity is actually a biproduct from the Ancient world. Before the FALL the world was a veritable eden. Incredible machines were powered by a finite resource that the inhabitants did not realize had long term effects. Legends tell of an eden far beneath the scarred surface-where energy is free for all and food is plentiful. Foolish thieves case the perilous passages that wind beneath the surface. Information in bits and pieces gleamed by nefarious means form the theory of the subterranean bountiful lands. It is protected, concealed, but the reward is great. This is a great legend and many search for its location.
So it's as though the world from Avatar went fully computerized, evolving from the neural network. :o.
Quote from: Light Dragon
So it's as though the world from Avatar went fully computerized, evolving from the neural network. :o.
Was that the movie that was Dances With Wolves in Outer Space? :)
Influences: The Matrix (without the complex machines-)
Heavy Metal