R
Ryex
Guest
Original poster
Tapestries: Re-Envisioned
CURRENT GOALS: JOIN THE RP!
This is an RP I've wanted to run for quite a while now. I've put a lot of effort into world building and coming up with a plot progression that would both provide structure and provide a lot of room for player to go wild with imagination. We've all had those time where we wanted to just smash our way through impossible odds with cool powers or awesome technology and not have someone tell us we were overpowered. I know I have.
This is meant to be a Fun RP where you can run rampant, but where even the greatest power in the world can't get you everything you want.
At every turn I'll provide definite goals (listed in the area above) for the RP and each faction involved, how you as the player accomplish them is up to you.
Without further ado lets lay things out.
It is the year 3780NE and humanity has spread out across the cosmos, settling and exploring most of the galaxy. Taking a shuttle to another planet in the solar system is the equivalent of taking a bus across town in today's world. And traveling to another solar system would be like taking a plane ride across the country in the modern day. Solar systems have been organized in to vast galactic governments. Technologies, like food synthesizers, have been created and discarded for better. But humanity has not changed…
Wars, competitions of power, and petty hate still exist. People preach about how far humanity has come, discarding prejudges and living in harmony with all races and religions. But these things have not gone; people have simply found new targets.
Around the year 3600NE a new unexplained mutation started appearing in the general population of the human race. At first it seemed to have no prominent effect and the people who had it went and lived normal lives. It did not stay that way though. About three generations on, as the mutation passed from parent to child, the genetic changes grew more powerful and the doctors began watch it closely. At first nothing seemed to change, but at around 16 to 17 years old these children started to manifest strange supernatural powers. They could change the world around them; mold it like clay with their will. Anything they believed to exist DID exist until they lost concentration or forgot about it, the reverse was also true; anything they believed did NOT exist simply vanished until they forgot or lost concentration.
The first public incident occurred when a school bully attacked a child with the mutation, sitting on the ground crying the kid had the brilliant idea to imagine to world without the bully, who promptly vanished from existence right in front of everyone watching. After this the galaxy erupted into turmoil, religious institutions latched on to the children as either prophets of their deity or daemons from the depths of their hells. And those of the scientific persuasion viewed it as just another mutation of the human genome, one that was a grave threat to their daily lives. Not many people could rest soundly when there realized that they could be erased from existence by the mere thought of another.
At first governments tried to keep it under control by isolating the children form society. Keeping them locked away in nice comfy buildings with plenty of entertainment and teaching available to them; prisoners in all but name. But the children grew and matured and after a few years of peace the young adults, realizing the oppression they were under, wanted no more. Walls mean nothing when their occupants can simply imagine them gone; possible to walk through; or in cases of the more violently inclined or those with minds that didn't grasp the full existent of their powers, explosives or other weapons to remove them.
The world began to call these mutants who mold reality like clay Artists, and for years they have roamed the galaxy revolting against governments and discovering the limits of their powers and the curses that come with them. It quickly became clear that as the Artists used their powers many of them would go insane. Voices in their heads became imaginary friends that quickly became not so imaginary, and from there escalating to general madness. It progressed at different speeds for everyone, an Artist in their fifties could be anywhere form slightly insane to stark raving mad. But their end was certain. Those who went completely mad often ended up killing themselves with creations from their own nightmares.
But despite the perils, many survived and persevered. It's been 70 odd years from the manifestation of the first Artist's powers; most Artists still search for a home, one where they can be accepted and live out their lives in relative peace. Others, simply want to watch the galaxy burn.
Wars, competitions of power, and petty hate still exist. People preach about how far humanity has come, discarding prejudges and living in harmony with all races and religions. But these things have not gone; people have simply found new targets.
Around the year 3600NE a new unexplained mutation started appearing in the general population of the human race. At first it seemed to have no prominent effect and the people who had it went and lived normal lives. It did not stay that way though. About three generations on, as the mutation passed from parent to child, the genetic changes grew more powerful and the doctors began watch it closely. At first nothing seemed to change, but at around 16 to 17 years old these children started to manifest strange supernatural powers. They could change the world around them; mold it like clay with their will. Anything they believed to exist DID exist until they lost concentration or forgot about it, the reverse was also true; anything they believed did NOT exist simply vanished until they forgot or lost concentration.
The first public incident occurred when a school bully attacked a child with the mutation, sitting on the ground crying the kid had the brilliant idea to imagine to world without the bully, who promptly vanished from existence right in front of everyone watching. After this the galaxy erupted into turmoil, religious institutions latched on to the children as either prophets of their deity or daemons from the depths of their hells. And those of the scientific persuasion viewed it as just another mutation of the human genome, one that was a grave threat to their daily lives. Not many people could rest soundly when there realized that they could be erased from existence by the mere thought of another.
At first governments tried to keep it under control by isolating the children form society. Keeping them locked away in nice comfy buildings with plenty of entertainment and teaching available to them; prisoners in all but name. But the children grew and matured and after a few years of peace the young adults, realizing the oppression they were under, wanted no more. Walls mean nothing when their occupants can simply imagine them gone; possible to walk through; or in cases of the more violently inclined or those with minds that didn't grasp the full existent of their powers, explosives or other weapons to remove them.
The world began to call these mutants who mold reality like clay Artists, and for years they have roamed the galaxy revolting against governments and discovering the limits of their powers and the curses that come with them. It quickly became clear that as the Artists used their powers many of them would go insane. Voices in their heads became imaginary friends that quickly became not so imaginary, and from there escalating to general madness. It progressed at different speeds for everyone, an Artist in their fifties could be anywhere form slightly insane to stark raving mad. But their end was certain. Those who went completely mad often ended up killing themselves with creations from their own nightmares.
But despite the perils, many survived and persevered. It's been 70 odd years from the manifestation of the first Artist's powers; most Artists still search for a home, one where they can be accepted and live out their lives in relative peace. Others, simply want to watch the galaxy burn.
Jack Yamal lay on him belly, peering over the edge of the four-story building into the ally below. The night was dark on the planet of Celleri as there was no moon to speak of, but light leaked in from the street giving him enough to see by. It was empty. And as far as he could tell it wasn't being watched either. Swinging his legs over the edge he started to lower himself into the ally by way of a fire escape when two figures in black trench coats entering from the street. "Dam," he whispered to himself "I thought I'd lost them three streets back." Very slowly, Jack pulled himself back up over the edge of the building, so as not to make any noise. He failed. the leg of his pants caught on the metal edge of the building and ripped slightly; the sound echoed loudly in the quite alleyway below. The two figures snapped their heads to attention with unnatural quickness; drilling holes into him from the dark cowl of their hoods from below.
Cursing, Jack freed his pant leg with a quick jerk and sprang to his feet. Below, the two figures had produced small hand guns; they were of the type made from plastic that fired ceramic beads as projectiles. The preferred weapon of assassins as they were easy to conceal and get through security. Plus, they were light and surprisingly accurate for their short barrel. Jack rolled to the side as a ceramic bead wised past his ear. No gunshots rang in the night, the guns were probably silenced quite effectively.
"I guess I'm going over the ally," Jack thought. Not a simple task for a normal human, the gap was at least twenty feet and the other building was about ten feet higher. But then Jack was not exactly a normal human, he was what was known as an Artist. Not the drawing and painting kind, mind you. Jack's Artistry was of a supernatural origin. By tricking his mind into believing that something was real, reality shaped itself to his will and his thoughts became reality. The reverse could also be true; if he wanted something to not exist all he had to do was believe that it was not there. Jack quickly thought himself up a wooden ramp to span the gap. And just like that the ramp was there; no fade in or flickering as there might have been with other Artists. That was his specialty; every Artist had an area of Artistry they were masters at. His was the creation of objects.
Jack took the ramp at a run, crossing the span in two leaps and he kept running across the roof of the next building. The ramp vanished behind him as he feet left it for the roof. Reaching the edge of block of building Jack stopped and looked down into the next alley. This one was clear but his pursuers were still on his tail, they would be on top of the buildings in a few second. Jack took a moment to prepare himself, and jumped. Not a moment too soon for just as he crested his jump he felt a ceramic bead brush the hair on the top his head. Within a split second he had dropped below the roof of the building blocking the line of fire. All he had to do now was survive the five story fall.
Concentrating, Jack used his powers again. In the same way that he had made the ramp between the buildings Jack fix in his mind the air below him becoming thicker, like water, but without the surface tension. About ten feet from the ground Jack hit the column of dense air he had created and his decent slowed to a manageable velocity. Once inside the dense air Jack made it just a bit thicker just to slow him a bit more. When his feet were three feet from the ground Jack released the image if the dense air from his mind and reality snapped back to normal. Jack dropped to the ground a hit it at a run, ducking out into the lightly crowed street and ignoring the night life that until a few seconds ago had been going about their shopping undisturbed.
One alley back the black coats spotted him and released a volley of fire. A bead took him in the bicep and he stumbled from the impact and pain. Clutching his freshly injured arm tightly to his chest Jack spun on his heals and raised his good arm to summon a large bolder and launch it down the sidewalk at his pursuers as a slow but deadly missile. Not caring to see if his shot connected he spun mid backstep keeping his momentum and raced off down the street dodging through shocked pedestrians
"Artist!" a shout rang out. Jack ignored it, he would have to worry about the local law enforcement once he had escaped these black coated hunters. Out of the corner of his eye Jack saw five of the men in black sprint out of a small side street and start chasing him anew. The tell tail clack of a ceramic bead hitting a light post he was passing told him there were firing again. "These pedestrians don't need to be caught in a cross fire." The thought floated across Jack's mind, without really thinking about it Jack acted on it the entire population on the street with in two blocks disappeared, Temporarily wiped from existence by his will. He would have done the same to the men chasing him long ago but his one attempt had failed, they were probably all wearing a Temporal Field Lock of some nature. Just like himself and other Artists, they were immune to the direct effects of Artistry.
Jack kept running, dodging around parked vehicles, trash bins and lamp posts. More and more of the trench coated men emptied onto the street from the alleyways and side streets he passed. There were about a hundred of them behind him now. "Maybe it's worth a shot now, I can take out a large chunk of them" Jack whispered to himself. Skipping to a stop Jack turned around a picked a parked vehicle placed conveniently between him and the chasing mod of black trench coated men. "bang" he said as he raised his good arm, palm out towards the mass of men. Neither the word nor the motions were strictly necessary but they did help trick his mind into doing what he wanted. The vehicle lifted off the ground and with a thunders clap of a broken sound barrier launched itself at the men. The resulting scene was like a game of human bowling. Sadly, his improvised missile only took out about a third of the chasing force, the rest just kept on running towards him ignoring their fallen comrades.
Cursing once again Jack spun on his toes and set off at a run again. There was an ally ahead perhaps he could lose some of them by taking to the rooftops again. Grabbing the corner of the building Jack flung himself into the ally at his top speed. He rounded the corner, and met a sharp pain in his chest as he collided with a trench-coated man waiting for him. Jack stumbled backward out into the street Knife stuck in his chest. He tripped on the curb and fell back landing on his back side, a large jolt of pain as the knife moved. The men racing the street vanished in mid step in puffs of smoke.
"Why?" Jack asked in a horse voice, coughing up blood from his punctured lungs. The trench coated figure in front. "Why are you chasing me?"
"Why?" the figure crackled pulling back the hood of his coat, Jack didn't recognize the face, it was devoid of any identifying feature it was just a generic face like one a company could create for it's new line of androids.
"You know why Jack, You always knew."
"No. I don't. just tell me. grant me a dying wish. Tell me why!" He voice was punctuated with short, sharp breaths. The demand followed by fit of coughing and more blood form his lungs. The figure bent low over Jack's head to wispier into his ear.
"Your insane Jack, Your nightmares came to finish you." With those words, the man's form began to grow misty, fading from existence.
"Your, not real?" The words escaped Jack's mouth in the middle of a cough "you're an Artist creation! who created you? For what purpose?"
"Why, you know that too Jack," cracked the figure, it was even mistier now, the feet gone entirely. "You. You created us Jack."
"Impossible" all that now remained the trench coated figure was the generic face floating above Jack's head, and that too was fading.
"You. Are. Insane. Jack." The face was only mist now only the eyes remaining solid.
"But…" that was when Jack saw it. Every Artist had the ability to distinguish between Artist made and real objects; it was a skill that manifests itself as the Artist grew. And it grew stronger with age. A particularly skilled Artist would see something that looked like knotted string at the center of an object that was made by an Artist, and a creation that was being actively maintained would have a length of string trailing off in the direction of the creator, connecting them to their creation. At that moment Jack became aware of such a string going from a ball of loosely knotted sting in the center of the figures forehead trailing into Jack's chest, the same with the knife. "No" the sound escaped his mouth at a whisper.
"Goodbye Jack. Enjoy the afterlife, if there is one that is." His nightmare crackled madly. With that what remained of the face vanished, dissipating like smoke with the wind.
The void engulfed Jack's mind. as he lost consciousness from loss of blood the knife vanished from his chest and the missing population popped back into existence to find a man laying on the street 500 yards from where they last saw him what seemed like a split second ago. Dead. with a stab wound in his chest.
Cursing, Jack freed his pant leg with a quick jerk and sprang to his feet. Below, the two figures had produced small hand guns; they were of the type made from plastic that fired ceramic beads as projectiles. The preferred weapon of assassins as they were easy to conceal and get through security. Plus, they were light and surprisingly accurate for their short barrel. Jack rolled to the side as a ceramic bead wised past his ear. No gunshots rang in the night, the guns were probably silenced quite effectively.
"I guess I'm going over the ally," Jack thought. Not a simple task for a normal human, the gap was at least twenty feet and the other building was about ten feet higher. But then Jack was not exactly a normal human, he was what was known as an Artist. Not the drawing and painting kind, mind you. Jack's Artistry was of a supernatural origin. By tricking his mind into believing that something was real, reality shaped itself to his will and his thoughts became reality. The reverse could also be true; if he wanted something to not exist all he had to do was believe that it was not there. Jack quickly thought himself up a wooden ramp to span the gap. And just like that the ramp was there; no fade in or flickering as there might have been with other Artists. That was his specialty; every Artist had an area of Artistry they were masters at. His was the creation of objects.
Jack took the ramp at a run, crossing the span in two leaps and he kept running across the roof of the next building. The ramp vanished behind him as he feet left it for the roof. Reaching the edge of block of building Jack stopped and looked down into the next alley. This one was clear but his pursuers were still on his tail, they would be on top of the buildings in a few second. Jack took a moment to prepare himself, and jumped. Not a moment too soon for just as he crested his jump he felt a ceramic bead brush the hair on the top his head. Within a split second he had dropped below the roof of the building blocking the line of fire. All he had to do now was survive the five story fall.
Concentrating, Jack used his powers again. In the same way that he had made the ramp between the buildings Jack fix in his mind the air below him becoming thicker, like water, but without the surface tension. About ten feet from the ground Jack hit the column of dense air he had created and his decent slowed to a manageable velocity. Once inside the dense air Jack made it just a bit thicker just to slow him a bit more. When his feet were three feet from the ground Jack released the image if the dense air from his mind and reality snapped back to normal. Jack dropped to the ground a hit it at a run, ducking out into the lightly crowed street and ignoring the night life that until a few seconds ago had been going about their shopping undisturbed.
One alley back the black coats spotted him and released a volley of fire. A bead took him in the bicep and he stumbled from the impact and pain. Clutching his freshly injured arm tightly to his chest Jack spun on his heals and raised his good arm to summon a large bolder and launch it down the sidewalk at his pursuers as a slow but deadly missile. Not caring to see if his shot connected he spun mid backstep keeping his momentum and raced off down the street dodging through shocked pedestrians
"Artist!" a shout rang out. Jack ignored it, he would have to worry about the local law enforcement once he had escaped these black coated hunters. Out of the corner of his eye Jack saw five of the men in black sprint out of a small side street and start chasing him anew. The tell tail clack of a ceramic bead hitting a light post he was passing told him there were firing again. "These pedestrians don't need to be caught in a cross fire." The thought floated across Jack's mind, without really thinking about it Jack acted on it the entire population on the street with in two blocks disappeared, Temporarily wiped from existence by his will. He would have done the same to the men chasing him long ago but his one attempt had failed, they were probably all wearing a Temporal Field Lock of some nature. Just like himself and other Artists, they were immune to the direct effects of Artistry.
Jack kept running, dodging around parked vehicles, trash bins and lamp posts. More and more of the trench coated men emptied onto the street from the alleyways and side streets he passed. There were about a hundred of them behind him now. "Maybe it's worth a shot now, I can take out a large chunk of them" Jack whispered to himself. Skipping to a stop Jack turned around a picked a parked vehicle placed conveniently between him and the chasing mod of black trench coated men. "bang" he said as he raised his good arm, palm out towards the mass of men. Neither the word nor the motions were strictly necessary but they did help trick his mind into doing what he wanted. The vehicle lifted off the ground and with a thunders clap of a broken sound barrier launched itself at the men. The resulting scene was like a game of human bowling. Sadly, his improvised missile only took out about a third of the chasing force, the rest just kept on running towards him ignoring their fallen comrades.
Cursing once again Jack spun on his toes and set off at a run again. There was an ally ahead perhaps he could lose some of them by taking to the rooftops again. Grabbing the corner of the building Jack flung himself into the ally at his top speed. He rounded the corner, and met a sharp pain in his chest as he collided with a trench-coated man waiting for him. Jack stumbled backward out into the street Knife stuck in his chest. He tripped on the curb and fell back landing on his back side, a large jolt of pain as the knife moved. The men racing the street vanished in mid step in puffs of smoke.
"Why?" Jack asked in a horse voice, coughing up blood from his punctured lungs. The trench coated figure in front. "Why are you chasing me?"
"Why?" the figure crackled pulling back the hood of his coat, Jack didn't recognize the face, it was devoid of any identifying feature it was just a generic face like one a company could create for it's new line of androids.
"You know why Jack, You always knew."
"No. I don't. just tell me. grant me a dying wish. Tell me why!" He voice was punctuated with short, sharp breaths. The demand followed by fit of coughing and more blood form his lungs. The figure bent low over Jack's head to wispier into his ear.
"Your insane Jack, Your nightmares came to finish you." With those words, the man's form began to grow misty, fading from existence.
"Your, not real?" The words escaped Jack's mouth in the middle of a cough "you're an Artist creation! who created you? For what purpose?"
"Why, you know that too Jack," cracked the figure, it was even mistier now, the feet gone entirely. "You. You created us Jack."
"Impossible" all that now remained the trench coated figure was the generic face floating above Jack's head, and that too was fading.
"You. Are. Insane. Jack." The face was only mist now only the eyes remaining solid.
"But…" that was when Jack saw it. Every Artist had the ability to distinguish between Artist made and real objects; it was a skill that manifests itself as the Artist grew. And it grew stronger with age. A particularly skilled Artist would see something that looked like knotted string at the center of an object that was made by an Artist, and a creation that was being actively maintained would have a length of string trailing off in the direction of the creator, connecting them to their creation. At that moment Jack became aware of such a string going from a ball of loosely knotted sting in the center of the figures forehead trailing into Jack's chest, the same with the knife. "No" the sound escaped his mouth at a whisper.
"Goodbye Jack. Enjoy the afterlife, if there is one that is." His nightmare crackled madly. With that what remained of the face vanished, dissipating like smoke with the wind.
The void engulfed Jack's mind. as he lost consciousness from loss of blood the knife vanished from his chest and the missing population popped back into existence to find a man laying on the street 500 yards from where they last saw him what seemed like a split second ago. Dead. with a stab wound in his chest.
The galaxy is divided among four main groups. The Sol Republic, the Daedalus Empire, the Trade Coalition, and the Denarus Industrial Corporation. There is also an fifth sector of the galaxy knows as the Gray Sector as it it not controlled by any one group. There is also an Artist Underground, a loose organization of Artists and their supporters that aid Artists in avoiding the galactic powers.
Sol Republic
The origin of humanity is Earth, that little blue planet orbiting the star Sol. It's a planet of significance historical significance. While the planet has long since been mined dry of all it's useful mineral resources it is still a center of political power and prestige. As such a government that named itself after the Sol solar system is clearly one of money and old power. The Sol Republic is, without a doubt, the oldest power in the galaxy and it likes to rub that fact in. They present a spotless face and flout themselves as the greatest of all the galactic powers but anyone who has spent any time in politics knows that there is more corruption hiding among it's senators than good.
The Sol Republic for the most part views Artists as an abomination and doesn't want them anywhere near its borders. However, the republic is not the type to abandon useful assets and so employs a fair number of them as agents of espionage and war. Pawns to be kept on tight leash.
The Sol Republic for the most part views Artists as an abomination and doesn't want them anywhere near its borders. However, the republic is not the type to abandon useful assets and so employs a fair number of them as agents of espionage and war. Pawns to be kept on tight leash.
Daedalus Empire
Founded off one of the first colony ships to ever leave earth, Daedalus is the second oldest power in the galaxy. Ruled by a heredity line with a parliament of citizen representatives they model themselves after the workings of the old united kingdom. During the late 2500's AD earth was still home to hundreds of governments but growing pressure from inter solar politics meant that Earth had to either stay neutral ground or come under the control of a single entity. This was the founding of the Sol republic. When the world powers at the time merged their powers there were a lot of parties left out in the cold, these parties fled for Daedalus. On these grounds and the distorting powers of history across thousands of years Daedalus lays claim to Earth, which is a source of constant tension and fighting between the two powers.
The empire has no place for imperfection and exterminates Artists with an extreme prejudice it is host to largest and most experienced anti Artist military group knows under it's code name Project Icarus. In the empire Artists are seen as having gotten too close to the realm of god and must be brought down by any means necessary. Ironically, the Artist underground has it's strongest presence in the empire.
The empire has no place for imperfection and exterminates Artists with an extreme prejudice it is host to largest and most experienced anti Artist military group knows under it's code name Project Icarus. In the empire Artists are seen as having gotten too close to the realm of god and must be brought down by any means necessary. Ironically, the Artist underground has it's strongest presence in the empire.
Trade Coalition
What started as loose scatterings of mining companies, trade stations, and various small settlements became a full blown empire of sorts. Formed of Trade guilds of varying powers the Coalition negotiates with galactic powers and provides a police force and court system for settling disputes. There is little in terms of social security or citizen representation. Such systems are maintain by the guilds or not at all as the case may be within each guild. Guild membership is determined by employment and hereditary line and there is very little crossover. The Capitalist economy at it's purest, in the Trade Coalition you make your own fortune. Or fall to the bottom trying.
The Trade Coalition is completely neutral when it comes to Artists. Any rules governing their presence are made on a guild by guild basis, the majority of which are amicable at the least.
The Coalition, however, provides a military force specifically for engaging with Artists that prove to be a threat. This force is called the Nigrum Corps. Functioning mostly as a mercenary police force they may be called up by any guild to preform any task, provided it does not conflict with any previous contract.
The Trade Coalition is completely neutral when it comes to Artists. Any rules governing their presence are made on a guild by guild basis, the majority of which are amicable at the least.
The Coalition, however, provides a military force specifically for engaging with Artists that prove to be a threat. This force is called the Nigrum Corps. Functioning mostly as a mercenary police force they may be called up by any guild to preform any task, provided it does not conflict with any previous contract.
Denarus Industrial Cooperation
The Denarus Industrial cooperation is an odd ball. It's not so much a government as it is a VERY big VERY old company. Back in the early 2600's AD when the inner belt of the galaxy was discovered to house some of the most mineral rich rock in the known universe a very shrewd man by the name of Denarus Vanderhal told the powers the be that he could deliver fantastical amounts of menials from the belt. With money buying the mouths of several key players in every government he could set his fingers into, he signed trade agreements with every major government for exclusive rights to mine the belt for an indefinite period of time. The resulting monopoly built him an empire to which he granted his first name. There has yet to be another recorded "Denarus" on population records. Currently controlled by the company's CEO and board of directors. This cooperation plays 'fair' while insuring it maintains its power in this area of the galaxy.
They hold no moral views on Artists. They are a company after all; a customer is a customer, an asset is an asset, competition is competition, and a threat is a threat.
They hold no moral views on Artists. They are a company after all; a customer is a customer, an asset is an asset, competition is competition, and a threat is a threat.
To give you a brief sense of time around 3020 AD the Galaxy agreed to re-base their calender to make 1 year a little more universal than the orbit of the planet Earth around Sol. Instead they decided to use the time it took for one particular rock near the center of the galaxy to make a full orbit around it's supper dense star. Known as the fastest natural object in the galaxy it orbits at around 99.89% of light speed. The result was about 1.3342 Earth years. The calender was then changed to use a 400 day year. The calender was given the name New Era (NE). The current year (3780) is equivalent to 5043 years under the old calender. So the current year under the today's calender is 8063. As for what's been invented (aside from what is mentioned here). You can pretty much pull whatever you want our of your hat.
Communication
The powers of Quantum Entanglement allow two particles to mirror each others' movements instantly regardless of the distance between them. This effect is used in the F.L.C.N. (Peregrine) network to allow instantaneous communication across the galaxy.
To to it's importance and prevalence in inter galactic communication rules have been set up to govern direct access and is kept notoriously secure. It takes very special hardware to gain legit access to the network and even more special hardware to hack in. We're someone to gain direct access to the network either via a legit terminal in a Peregrine installation or with some special remote hacking hardware, all the information in the known universe would be at their fingertips
To to it's importance and prevalence in inter galactic communication rules have been set up to govern direct access and is kept notoriously secure. It takes very special hardware to gain legit access to the network and even more special hardware to hack in. We're someone to gain direct access to the network either via a legit terminal in a Peregrine installation or with some special remote hacking hardware, all the information in the known universe would be at their fingertips
Transport
The galaxy is massive and travel is only practical at Faster Than Light (FTL) speeds
there are two main types of FTL travel in use at this time.
The first is the Warp Drive. It works by compressing space in-front of the ship and expanding it again behind. The result is that the ship travels through hundred of tiny folds in-space under it's own power. And the speed at which it travels relative to the rest of the universe is faster than light. Warp Drives require a massive amount of power to fold space and as such are most efficient if the ship is already traveling at near light speeds. As the current speed is multiplied by the folded space factor, the closer a ship is to light speed the better it is.
With this in mind the greatest distances in the universe require both a powerful Warp drive (lots of space folded at once) and a ship traveling at near light speed.
To aid in the later requirement most solar systems have GANLAC installations (Gravity Assisted Near Light Acceleration Channels) that help a ship accelerate and decelerate to and form near-light speeds as other wise it can take upwards of a month to reach near-light depending on what kinds of sub-light engines a ship has.
The second type is called "Translation" and consists of three sateps. First, making a bubble reality around the ship. Second, making a 5 dimensional fold in space time. Third, pushing the bubble reality through the fold where it reemerges on the other side. This is an extremely technical method of travel and requires very precise calibration from sensors at both the start and end point assisted by the Peregrine network and a supercomputer to ensure that the ship arrives both at the right place and the right time. (travel in time is possible via this method but is extremely hazardous as matter stability can not be guaranteed once the bubble reality merges outside its own time.)
there are two main types of FTL travel in use at this time.
The first is the Warp Drive. It works by compressing space in-front of the ship and expanding it again behind. The result is that the ship travels through hundred of tiny folds in-space under it's own power. And the speed at which it travels relative to the rest of the universe is faster than light. Warp Drives require a massive amount of power to fold space and as such are most efficient if the ship is already traveling at near light speeds. As the current speed is multiplied by the folded space factor, the closer a ship is to light speed the better it is.
With this in mind the greatest distances in the universe require both a powerful Warp drive (lots of space folded at once) and a ship traveling at near light speed.
To aid in the later requirement most solar systems have GANLAC installations (Gravity Assisted Near Light Acceleration Channels) that help a ship accelerate and decelerate to and form near-light speeds as other wise it can take upwards of a month to reach near-light depending on what kinds of sub-light engines a ship has.
The second type is called "Translation" and consists of three sateps. First, making a bubble reality around the ship. Second, making a 5 dimensional fold in space time. Third, pushing the bubble reality through the fold where it reemerges on the other side. This is an extremely technical method of travel and requires very precise calibration from sensors at both the start and end point assisted by the Peregrine network and a supercomputer to ensure that the ship arrives both at the right place and the right time. (travel in time is possible via this method but is extremely hazardous as matter stability can not be guaranteed once the bubble reality merges outside its own time.)
Anti Artist Technologies
Temporal Field Locks (TFL):
built on the same tech that enables Translation, TFL devices create a bubble reality and lock it from outside influence while providing a barrier where matter and energy can pass through in either direction unhindered. The result is a shield that prevents an Artist from directly manipulating anything inside, while still allowing day to day interaction with others.
TFL's come in both personal barrier types and industrial sizes that can protect buildings, Ship, or full space stations.
Two TFL fields can not intersect and will act as immovable objects to other fields.
Keeping a TFL alive for extended periods of time can cause dimensional tearing at their edges and thus they must be disengaged every 5 hours with at least a 2 hours rest period less the occupants risk the collapse of their bubble reality and their subsequent existence failure.
built on the same tech that enables Translation, TFL devices create a bubble reality and lock it from outside influence while providing a barrier where matter and energy can pass through in either direction unhindered. The result is a shield that prevents an Artist from directly manipulating anything inside, while still allowing day to day interaction with others.
TFL's come in both personal barrier types and industrial sizes that can protect buildings, Ship, or full space stations.
Two TFL fields can not intersect and will act as immovable objects to other fields.
Keeping a TFL alive for extended periods of time can cause dimensional tearing at their edges and thus they must be disengaged every 5 hours with at least a 2 hours rest period less the occupants risk the collapse of their bubble reality and their subsequent existence failure.
An Artist's power level is determined by their area of effect. The father away and more completely they can change something the stronger they are,
All Artists for all intents and purposes have their own TFL. neither they nor other artist can directly manipulate their bodies or minds. the only REAL limit of an Artist's Powers is that it can not manipulate time and space. Telephoning, time traval, spacial compression ect. are beyond them and only possible through what is a very recent human technology.
Artists only have one area of mastery, this area is generally vary specific like "controlling the growth of plants, but can be as general as "manipulation of existing mater" if the Artist is particularly powerful. Outside of this area significant concentration and energy is required to achieve the desired effect.
Artists are doomed to insanity, the effects of which progress slowly through their lifetime in direct relation to the use of their powers. If an Artist uses their powers sparingly or not at all their path to insanity is lengthened but not halted entirely. Inversely if an Artist uses their powers liberally they will go insane much faster.
In general the more powerful an artist is the faster they go insane in about a 2 to 5 ratio (if an artist is 5 times more powerful they will go insane twice as fast)
Artists can burn themselves out of existence. An extreme use of their powers well out of the normal range of their abilities can result in a burn out where the artist's body disintegrates leaving no trace. The event itself is fairly rare and for the most part impossible to do by accident as it takes an equally extreme force of will to go that far beyond an artist's normal power range.
All Artists who's powers have matured sufficiently have the ability to identify another Artist's creation on sight. What looks like small clump of string will appear at the center of the creation with a trail of thread leading off in the direction of it's creator.
An artist creation can be "tied off" to maintain itself without the Artist's presence or active maintenance. The name references the appearance of the string that normaly identifies an Artist's creation. Instead of leading off in the direction of it's creator it's appears to be tied into a knot. Knots work on the premise of a precondition, An Artist ties off a creation by setting a precondition for it's existence. The more specific the condition the less power it takes to create. For example, an artist could create and tie off an object like a necklace by setting its precondition to "I am wearing it around my neck" and this wouldn't take a whole lot of energy; more than it would take to maintain it for an hour or two, but in the long run more efficient than maintaining it indefinitely. A more general condition like, "I am alive," requires an order of magnitude (10x) more power to create.
There is a point an Artist is called "Critically Insane." This is when an Artist's insanity has progressed so far that they no longer have any semblance of control over their dilutions. At this point is is common for them to either kill themselves with manifestations of their own paranoia. Or become such a threat to society that they must be taken down for the good of everyone. Many Artists kill themselves of their own volition before this point.
Critical Insanity has more to do with a particular Artist's willpower than their actual insanity level.
All Artists for all intents and purposes have their own TFL. neither they nor other artist can directly manipulate their bodies or minds. the only REAL limit of an Artist's Powers is that it can not manipulate time and space. Telephoning, time traval, spacial compression ect. are beyond them and only possible through what is a very recent human technology.
Artists only have one area of mastery, this area is generally vary specific like "controlling the growth of plants, but can be as general as "manipulation of existing mater" if the Artist is particularly powerful. Outside of this area significant concentration and energy is required to achieve the desired effect.
Artists are doomed to insanity, the effects of which progress slowly through their lifetime in direct relation to the use of their powers. If an Artist uses their powers sparingly or not at all their path to insanity is lengthened but not halted entirely. Inversely if an Artist uses their powers liberally they will go insane much faster.
In general the more powerful an artist is the faster they go insane in about a 2 to 5 ratio (if an artist is 5 times more powerful they will go insane twice as fast)
Artists can burn themselves out of existence. An extreme use of their powers well out of the normal range of their abilities can result in a burn out where the artist's body disintegrates leaving no trace. The event itself is fairly rare and for the most part impossible to do by accident as it takes an equally extreme force of will to go that far beyond an artist's normal power range.
All Artists who's powers have matured sufficiently have the ability to identify another Artist's creation on sight. What looks like small clump of string will appear at the center of the creation with a trail of thread leading off in the direction of it's creator.
An artist creation can be "tied off" to maintain itself without the Artist's presence or active maintenance. The name references the appearance of the string that normaly identifies an Artist's creation. Instead of leading off in the direction of it's creator it's appears to be tied into a knot. Knots work on the premise of a precondition, An Artist ties off a creation by setting a precondition for it's existence. The more specific the condition the less power it takes to create. For example, an artist could create and tie off an object like a necklace by setting its precondition to "I am wearing it around my neck" and this wouldn't take a whole lot of energy; more than it would take to maintain it for an hour or two, but in the long run more efficient than maintaining it indefinitely. A more general condition like, "I am alive," requires an order of magnitude (10x) more power to create.
There is a point an Artist is called "Critically Insane." This is when an Artist's insanity has progressed so far that they no longer have any semblance of control over their dilutions. At this point is is common for them to either kill themselves with manifestations of their own paranoia. Or become such a threat to society that they must be taken down for the good of everyone. Many Artists kill themselves of their own volition before this point.
Critical Insanity has more to do with a particular Artist's willpower than their actual insanity level.
Name:
Age:
Race: (human, human-artist etc.)
Artist insanity level if applicable: (in general age + strength + frequency of power usage = insanity level)
Affiliation: (SOL, Denaris, Artist underground, unaffiliated etc.)
Home World: (Earth, Celleri, etc. brief description if desired)
Current Residence: (where your character is when they join the RP)
Special licenses/permissions: (TFL license, pilot's license, etc. Note: being able to use an item doesn't mean you necessarily have one.)
The"hat": 5 items/abilities or less non-artists get a bonus item (any technology/power/ability that could potentially limit other players i.e. A personal TFL, making things disappear, nano-tech suits, super weapons etc.)
Description: if desired, may post pic (Note: due to advanced technology and artists abilities players may change their appearance at will so we are not requiring this one)
Age:
Race: (human, human-artist etc.)
Artist insanity level if applicable: (in general age + strength + frequency of power usage = insanity level)
Affiliation: (SOL, Denaris, Artist underground, unaffiliated etc.)
Home World: (Earth, Celleri, etc. brief description if desired)
Current Residence: (where your character is when they join the RP)
Special licenses/permissions: (TFL license, pilot's license, etc. Note: being able to use an item doesn't mean you necessarily have one.)
The"hat": 5 items/abilities or less non-artists get a bonus item (any technology/power/ability that could potentially limit other players i.e. A personal TFL, making things disappear, nano-tech suits, super weapons etc.)
Description: if desired, may post pic (Note: due to advanced technology and artists abilities players may change their appearance at will so we are not requiring this one)
- RULE 1: Post length should be kept to between 1 paragraph and 10. more or less is ok on occasion or as the situation allows but consistently above or especially below will get me and Falcon nagging you for correction.
- RULE 2: Do NOT use colored text to indicate dialog Use quotes and paragraphs between speakers as is proper grammar. it's just too hard to read
- RULE 3: Asking for no Godmodeing in this particular RP is absurd. as such it's ok to be stupidly powerful so long as you ALWAYS allow people an escape.
- RULE 4: Typical RP rules apply, no controlling other peoples characters, no player killing with out prior authorization by all parties involved ect.
- RULE 5: Multiple characters are allowed and even encouraged just don't bite off more than you can chew. changing characters mid game is also fine so long as you write off the old and write in the new.
- RULE 6: Leaving the RP is fine, but write off or hand over your characters first.
NOTES
Falcon is co-hosting the RP with me, her word like mine is that of a GM.
Last edited by a moderator:
