Post by nikolaithebeast on Jul 10, 2014 2:41:27 GMT
Beginning log:
A voice crackles from the speakers, the words coming from this creature not immediately human sounding, but quickly obtaining a more appropriate sound, which resembles something of a thirty something year old new's reporter, telling you of how the recent plasma fires on a colony has affected your daily flight to work.
"Ayyyiiiuuu...He-llo, Hu-mans. Ahem. This is Mr. W, as my fellows have taken to calling me. I speak for my kind.
We, are the now inhabitants of earth, and have taken to calling ourselves Ghouls. Mostly, a jab, you see, at our own human-but-not-quite similarities. We, however, take to the expectation that this name is a bit...much for the average human, judging from what we have gleamed, and as such, are happy to take whatever name you so give us.
What, we are, is obviously the question on your lips. Our answer, sadly, is that we do not know. We have generally agreed upon our existence occurring about fifteen years ago, and we are not quite sure how, or even why, we now exist.
Now, this probably sounds like some kind of hoax. A War of the worlds, or Battle of the Nile style lie, made by some group or another. We can assure, this is not the case."
The sound of fumbling and movement is picked up, and after a few moments, a video feed takes form on the screen of your monitor, not quite adjusted to the room that it faces. As the creature begins fiddling with the camera, you take in that this room looks far past the point of dis-repair, the walls rotted, the ceiling caving in, revealing a dull, grey sky.
As the creature calling itself Mr. W comes into frame, you find yourself amused at this apparent hoax. What you see, is a man who seems to have painted all visible screen a dull, metallic grey. He stands in the middle of the room, wearing a black suit that seem's older then the person wearing it. His hair, a flat-topped ordeal, also colored the same as his skin and looks like a wig someone spray-painted. His face is hard, and dull, that of someone who has taken to whiskey more then movement. As you are about to close down this log, his eyes catch yours and at this point, it becomes immediately obvious that this isn't a hoax.
His eyes, are not that of a humans. Instead of anything resembling an eye, a silver orb rests in each socket, lacking any form of pupils.
"Ah, I hope this is working properly. As you might be able to judge, we are indeed what we say we are. Us, the Ghouls, seem to have been blessed...or cursed, I suppose, with the human form. However, I assure that we do not carry any of your biological functions.
We do not breathe, sleep, or eat, at least in a conventional sense. We do not age, grow sick, or find the deadly fingers of Jack frost upon our throats.
Those of us who have taken to researching, and science, have used what you left behind to deem that is...Well, Incorrect. Most texts you have left state that all life need's certain things to function. We...lack this.
Upon discussion with the other leaders, we wish to speak to Nanotrasen, and obtain passage and function aboard your vessels, planets, and stations. Many of us...desire to see the things that we are apparently mimicking.
Many of us have seen to learning trades, such as medicine, science, mechanical repair, the likes that we have been able to obtain. However, we are well aware that we are behind the times, in a sense.
We will work, without pay. We seek no rights, except that of those we mimic. We simply wish...to..."
The voice quivers, and shakes, and something in those pupil-less eyes seem to have a yearning quality.
"...Me-et with you."
Name: Ghoul (Maybe?)
Biology:
A Ghoul's body is that of a human's, and seem to be flash frozen into that exact shape. When starved, their form simply shrinks down, and when overfed, they grow somewhat larger. They possess no form of internal organs, brain's, or any internal bits, excluding one thing.
Their form is kept upright, and not a pile of flesh, by a skeletal structure that is exactly that of a humans. However, the bones are just more of their own material, but slightly harder, and more rigid.
Their structure is not made of flesh and bone, or any other substance that usually suits a thing that is alive, but instead a metallic, chalky substance. This material, simply called Ghoul flesh, is durable towards physical abuse, but melts and corrodes under heat. As such, all forms of heat will tear through them like a hot knife through butter.
They do not breathe or age, as any normal creature would, and only 'eat' by in-taking organic material to replace previously lost pieces of itself.
On a technical note, the Ghoul cannot die in a traditional sense. Instead of death, they simply shut down, and will be un-clonable. They have no brain to be cut out, and will not be Borgable. However, if 'fed' by placing organic material near, inside, or on the body, the body will slowly attempt to absorb it, in order to repair itself. However, without assistance, this means they will be nothing more then a slab of Ghoul.
A Ghoul doesn't require air, but in a zero pressure enviroment will still be properly damaged, and die of the potent force of deep space.
History:
Ghoul's have not existed for a long period of time, roughly fifteen years. One day, they claim to have woken up, in various places, and were aware of certain facts, information, and skills, ranging from sword-play to neuro-surgery to even childbirth. However, how or why they know this is un-known.
Eventually, the Ghouls gathered, mostly through luck then anything, and began populating cities, towns, or whatever was left. They learned, and eventually took basic languages upon themselves, using whatever they could find to learn it.
In the recent years, the Ghouls have formed a council of those who have been deemed the most intelligent, and have sought to reach humans, for a reason that doesn't seem entirely known to even them.
Personality:
Personalities vary from Ghoul to Ghoul, but a majority of them have a overwhelming passion towards humans, and other organic life forms. This may be of their need to intake organic matter into themselves to feed, but they seem more interested in simply touching Humans, and the other intelligent species, to a lesser extent.
In actuality, and a bit of a spoiler to WHAT they are, they are people who have died, ages ago, and some semblance of their matter was left, being absorbed into their being, and giving them their form, some of their skills, and knowledge. They, of course, have no idea of this, and WHAT caused their existence will be left a mystery.
Oh, and I'm not saying people get to be Hitler. That's far too dead. The limit would be 30 years before humans fucked off. So, no famous figures.
Mechanical functions:
Good/Bad:
+Would have no need for air
+They can be resurrected by clicking them with organic items, such as meat, fruits, and anything with a organic basis.
+ Could heal themselves by eating, but the healing process would be slow, and not ideal for moments of urgency.
+ when in a cold environment, they speed up.
+ Kinetic weapons would do less damage
-Resurrection would require a mass of organic items
-Someone else would need to do this process, as simply having the items nearby will not suffice
-Would be heavily damaged by heat, such as welder's, fires, and the like.
-Unable to be injected or given medicine in any form
-When heated to lesser degree's, they slow down.
-Lasers would do more damage
I had an idea. this is the idea. It might be fun. I'm sure everyone will hate it, and when they say why, I will hate it. But, here it is.
A voice crackles from the speakers, the words coming from this creature not immediately human sounding, but quickly obtaining a more appropriate sound, which resembles something of a thirty something year old new's reporter, telling you of how the recent plasma fires on a colony has affected your daily flight to work.
"Ayyyiiiuuu...He-llo, Hu-mans. Ahem. This is Mr. W, as my fellows have taken to calling me. I speak for my kind.
We, are the now inhabitants of earth, and have taken to calling ourselves Ghouls. Mostly, a jab, you see, at our own human-but-not-quite similarities. We, however, take to the expectation that this name is a bit...much for the average human, judging from what we have gleamed, and as such, are happy to take whatever name you so give us.
What, we are, is obviously the question on your lips. Our answer, sadly, is that we do not know. We have generally agreed upon our existence occurring about fifteen years ago, and we are not quite sure how, or even why, we now exist.
Now, this probably sounds like some kind of hoax. A War of the worlds, or Battle of the Nile style lie, made by some group or another. We can assure, this is not the case."
The sound of fumbling and movement is picked up, and after a few moments, a video feed takes form on the screen of your monitor, not quite adjusted to the room that it faces. As the creature begins fiddling with the camera, you take in that this room looks far past the point of dis-repair, the walls rotted, the ceiling caving in, revealing a dull, grey sky.
As the creature calling itself Mr. W comes into frame, you find yourself amused at this apparent hoax. What you see, is a man who seems to have painted all visible screen a dull, metallic grey. He stands in the middle of the room, wearing a black suit that seem's older then the person wearing it. His hair, a flat-topped ordeal, also colored the same as his skin and looks like a wig someone spray-painted. His face is hard, and dull, that of someone who has taken to whiskey more then movement. As you are about to close down this log, his eyes catch yours and at this point, it becomes immediately obvious that this isn't a hoax.
His eyes, are not that of a humans. Instead of anything resembling an eye, a silver orb rests in each socket, lacking any form of pupils.
"Ah, I hope this is working properly. As you might be able to judge, we are indeed what we say we are. Us, the Ghouls, seem to have been blessed...or cursed, I suppose, with the human form. However, I assure that we do not carry any of your biological functions.
We do not breathe, sleep, or eat, at least in a conventional sense. We do not age, grow sick, or find the deadly fingers of Jack frost upon our throats.
Those of us who have taken to researching, and science, have used what you left behind to deem that is...Well, Incorrect. Most texts you have left state that all life need's certain things to function. We...lack this.
Upon discussion with the other leaders, we wish to speak to Nanotrasen, and obtain passage and function aboard your vessels, planets, and stations. Many of us...desire to see the things that we are apparently mimicking.
Many of us have seen to learning trades, such as medicine, science, mechanical repair, the likes that we have been able to obtain. However, we are well aware that we are behind the times, in a sense.
We will work, without pay. We seek no rights, except that of those we mimic. We simply wish...to..."
The voice quivers, and shakes, and something in those pupil-less eyes seem to have a yearning quality.
"...Me-et with you."
Name: Ghoul (Maybe?)
Biology:
A Ghoul's body is that of a human's, and seem to be flash frozen into that exact shape. When starved, their form simply shrinks down, and when overfed, they grow somewhat larger. They possess no form of internal organs, brain's, or any internal bits, excluding one thing.
Their form is kept upright, and not a pile of flesh, by a skeletal structure that is exactly that of a humans. However, the bones are just more of their own material, but slightly harder, and more rigid.
Their structure is not made of flesh and bone, or any other substance that usually suits a thing that is alive, but instead a metallic, chalky substance. This material, simply called Ghoul flesh, is durable towards physical abuse, but melts and corrodes under heat. As such, all forms of heat will tear through them like a hot knife through butter.
They do not breathe or age, as any normal creature would, and only 'eat' by in-taking organic material to replace previously lost pieces of itself.
On a technical note, the Ghoul cannot die in a traditional sense. Instead of death, they simply shut down, and will be un-clonable. They have no brain to be cut out, and will not be Borgable. However, if 'fed' by placing organic material near, inside, or on the body, the body will slowly attempt to absorb it, in order to repair itself. However, without assistance, this means they will be nothing more then a slab of Ghoul.
A Ghoul doesn't require air, but in a zero pressure enviroment will still be properly damaged, and die of the potent force of deep space.
History:
Ghoul's have not existed for a long period of time, roughly fifteen years. One day, they claim to have woken up, in various places, and were aware of certain facts, information, and skills, ranging from sword-play to neuro-surgery to even childbirth. However, how or why they know this is un-known.
Eventually, the Ghouls gathered, mostly through luck then anything, and began populating cities, towns, or whatever was left. They learned, and eventually took basic languages upon themselves, using whatever they could find to learn it.
In the recent years, the Ghouls have formed a council of those who have been deemed the most intelligent, and have sought to reach humans, for a reason that doesn't seem entirely known to even them.
Personality:
Personalities vary from Ghoul to Ghoul, but a majority of them have a overwhelming passion towards humans, and other organic life forms. This may be of their need to intake organic matter into themselves to feed, but they seem more interested in simply touching Humans, and the other intelligent species, to a lesser extent.
In actuality, and a bit of a spoiler to WHAT they are, they are people who have died, ages ago, and some semblance of their matter was left, being absorbed into their being, and giving them their form, some of their skills, and knowledge. They, of course, have no idea of this, and WHAT caused their existence will be left a mystery.
Oh, and I'm not saying people get to be Hitler. That's far too dead. The limit would be 30 years before humans fucked off. So, no famous figures.
Mechanical functions:
- Speak Sol Common, and Basic
- Would be able to regenerate slowly by in taking food
- Ressurected by being 'fed' food and organic products.
- Do not require air
- Sped up in the cold, slow down and die in the heat.
Good/Bad:
+Would have no need for air
+They can be resurrected by clicking them with organic items, such as meat, fruits, and anything with a organic basis.
+ Could heal themselves by eating, but the healing process would be slow, and not ideal for moments of urgency.
+ when in a cold environment, they speed up.
+ Kinetic weapons would do less damage
-Resurrection would require a mass of organic items
-Someone else would need to do this process, as simply having the items nearby will not suffice
-Would be heavily damaged by heat, such as welder's, fires, and the like.
-Unable to be injected or given medicine in any form
-When heated to lesser degree's, they slow down.
-Lasers would do more damage
I had an idea. this is the idea. It might be fun. I'm sure everyone will hate it, and when they say why, I will hate it. But, here it is.
