To Tyler Renny
-
IamLEAM1983
- Site Admin
- Posts: 3709
- Joined: Tue Jan 08, 2013 4:54 am
- Location: Quebec, Canada
To Tyler Renny
What can you tell me about Paradise's prominent races?
-
IamLEAM1983
- Site Admin
- Posts: 3709
- Joined: Tue Jan 08, 2013 4:54 am
- Location: Quebec, Canada
As Tyler Renny
"We're not too fond of thinking in terms of races, honestly. We all survived the Riot, we all built this husk into something liveable - we're one people, as far as the older gangs and families are concerned. Outsiders always need us to draw lines, though...
First, there's the Blueskins, the descendants of a group of pirates that ran wild once the Riot started. They all have a few basic traits in common, which is why they're usually the ones counted as the defacto Drifters. There's the blue skin, the head crest, and the sometimes variable number of eyes and fingers, plus the fact that they're the ones who institutionalized most of Paradise's deities and various other cults.
Humanity quickly nabbed second place locally, as we've got our own share of expats from your gravity well. Humans, anthros, a few Fae, at least two vampires that I know of... We all just lump 'em into Humanity as a whole to make census easier. Lotta criminals, obviously - a lot of free-thinkers and rogue spirits that didn't feel welcomed back home. As to how much they're welcome here, that depends on them and what they do while they're in my station. Of course, we also add in whatever Transgenics never left Paradise, Rendell's formerly much-vaunted Base Logistics staff...
Third place goes to the Pilus, the gasbag-folks like Frank Brenner. If there's credits exchanging hands, there's a Pilus somewhere close. They stink, but their silver tongue is respected here, and they know their way around criminal spheres well enough to challenge some of the local bosses. If you need something or want someone found, most of you go straight to their nearest fart-prone vendor.
A few thousand years back, a bunch of religious refugees from a species calling themselves Akari slipped in through half-busted fold-space drives. They're around ten thousand in total, got six limbs each - two legs and four arms - they're limber as heck. Uptight as Hell, stuck on tribal honour nonsense and unable to keep themselves from looking at a human like it's lunch, but they're solid and predictable. They never gave in to the district mentality the Sectors are stuck in, and instead focus on maintaining whatever is left of their old Houses. They're a bit like Quakers from outer space, saying they're the last of the "true faith" - but they're also the only Paradise species to have some sort of grasp on magic. Meris might find them interesting, seeing as they don't see much difference between tech and wizardry. We thought their life-sustaining "ether" was some sort of gas-based nutritional compound, but it's actually via stored in tanks and pushed through rebreathers.
So yeah. Seeing as most of us are more tech-obsessed than anything, they come across as kinda weird.
Then, what really freaks out humans is when they see what happens to some of 'em that follow Akari skiffs out into dark space for minerals or organic compounds. There's only two or three of 'em now, but those the Akari consider touched by their old gods come back with green, ash-grey or purplish skin, and generally white hair and glowing irises... The Akari call 'em the Vanguard, most other humans that know about 'em call them the Space Mages. For some reason, they can't draw on via proper, but pull on something darker. If via is tied to Matter, then most of us assume there's some other arcane force tied to Antimatter. What it might be, though, nobody knows yet. There isn't a speck of research available on the Vanguard yet, and their Speaker is notoriously, well... silent about what makes her tick. She collaborates with the Dusters, though; helps us keep things mostly nice and diplomatic. Mostly. Local tempers still run hot on occasion.
Otherwise, there's a few million frames on standby and about twenty or thirty billion individual A.I. processes to allocate between 'em all. We lose one or two frames per year to accidents or some bourgeois Clank wanting a dose of local high tech after purchasing a phylactery adaptor, but things are otherwise fairly stable. Individual processes are barely smart enough to run a pocket calculator, a few hundred of 'em daisy-chained through a single frame or operations console manages to feel like a pretty decent automated secretary or desk drone. We've got restrictions in place to avoid procedural corruption or any emergent behaviour beyond a certain threshold - and a small cadre of moral watchdogs and religious objectors who'd probably reach for their guns if any individual frame ever started to wax Existential.
Add two million other ancillary races plus the now-expected Karthian contingent of a few thousand individuals all networked together in a Dominion, and you've got a pretty decent portrait of Paradise's demographic. Which is to say, it's still a mess."
First, there's the Blueskins, the descendants of a group of pirates that ran wild once the Riot started. They all have a few basic traits in common, which is why they're usually the ones counted as the defacto Drifters. There's the blue skin, the head crest, and the sometimes variable number of eyes and fingers, plus the fact that they're the ones who institutionalized most of Paradise's deities and various other cults.
Humanity quickly nabbed second place locally, as we've got our own share of expats from your gravity well. Humans, anthros, a few Fae, at least two vampires that I know of... We all just lump 'em into Humanity as a whole to make census easier. Lotta criminals, obviously - a lot of free-thinkers and rogue spirits that didn't feel welcomed back home. As to how much they're welcome here, that depends on them and what they do while they're in my station. Of course, we also add in whatever Transgenics never left Paradise, Rendell's formerly much-vaunted Base Logistics staff...
Third place goes to the Pilus, the gasbag-folks like Frank Brenner. If there's credits exchanging hands, there's a Pilus somewhere close. They stink, but their silver tongue is respected here, and they know their way around criminal spheres well enough to challenge some of the local bosses. If you need something or want someone found, most of you go straight to their nearest fart-prone vendor.
A few thousand years back, a bunch of religious refugees from a species calling themselves Akari slipped in through half-busted fold-space drives. They're around ten thousand in total, got six limbs each - two legs and four arms - they're limber as heck. Uptight as Hell, stuck on tribal honour nonsense and unable to keep themselves from looking at a human like it's lunch, but they're solid and predictable. They never gave in to the district mentality the Sectors are stuck in, and instead focus on maintaining whatever is left of their old Houses. They're a bit like Quakers from outer space, saying they're the last of the "true faith" - but they're also the only Paradise species to have some sort of grasp on magic. Meris might find them interesting, seeing as they don't see much difference between tech and wizardry. We thought their life-sustaining "ether" was some sort of gas-based nutritional compound, but it's actually via stored in tanks and pushed through rebreathers.
So yeah. Seeing as most of us are more tech-obsessed than anything, they come across as kinda weird.
Then, what really freaks out humans is when they see what happens to some of 'em that follow Akari skiffs out into dark space for minerals or organic compounds. There's only two or three of 'em now, but those the Akari consider touched by their old gods come back with green, ash-grey or purplish skin, and generally white hair and glowing irises... The Akari call 'em the Vanguard, most other humans that know about 'em call them the Space Mages. For some reason, they can't draw on via proper, but pull on something darker. If via is tied to Matter, then most of us assume there's some other arcane force tied to Antimatter. What it might be, though, nobody knows yet. There isn't a speck of research available on the Vanguard yet, and their Speaker is notoriously, well... silent about what makes her tick. She collaborates with the Dusters, though; helps us keep things mostly nice and diplomatic. Mostly. Local tempers still run hot on occasion.
Otherwise, there's a few million frames on standby and about twenty or thirty billion individual A.I. processes to allocate between 'em all. We lose one or two frames per year to accidents or some bourgeois Clank wanting a dose of local high tech after purchasing a phylactery adaptor, but things are otherwise fairly stable. Individual processes are barely smart enough to run a pocket calculator, a few hundred of 'em daisy-chained through a single frame or operations console manages to feel like a pretty decent automated secretary or desk drone. We've got restrictions in place to avoid procedural corruption or any emergent behaviour beyond a certain threshold - and a small cadre of moral watchdogs and religious objectors who'd probably reach for their guns if any individual frame ever started to wax Existential.
Add two million other ancillary races plus the now-expected Karthian contingent of a few thousand individuals all networked together in a Dominion, and you've got a pretty decent portrait of Paradise's demographic. Which is to say, it's still a mess."