Post by Deleted on Oct 15, 2018 17:21:06 GMT
On Race and History -- from this post on the old forums:
Children's Story Fragment -- from this post on the old forums:
Introduction of Burninandom -- from this thread on the old forum:
[[Alpyrea was largely responsible for providing the aid that saved Burninandom in those days.]]
Current RP.
Burninites aren't human. Bipedal, and closely resembling humans, but with elongated limbs, skulls, taller, and less mass. For those used to the human physique, Burninites are downright fragile. Burninites also have managed to survive despite a huge evolutionary flaw: their minds rage with capricious urges and have a terrible psychological tendency towards obsession. Human neurosis is nothing to Burninite obsession. Once a mind is lost, it is rarely recovered. Burninites must train from a young age to control their wonton desires, and to avoid the inescapable abyss of obsession and madness. What follows is a children's tale taken from the classic compilation of historic Burninite literature titled Where They Wander. The name of the Burninite who collected these stories was lost to history centuries ago, but the stories she collected are still widely read today. The title of this short story is "The Desert." It is a favorite among the botanists in the Orbital Garden of Burninandom, and is believed to take place in the Great Desert of Burnination’s southern continent.
Children's Story Fragment -- from this post on the old forums:
J'quar stood alone in the desert. By his count, it had been 4 hours since the sun passed its zenith. It was still warmer than the demands of comfort, but it had been three days since J'quar found potable water, and if he did not find more in the next 28 hours, his death would be certain. Dehydration is an unfortunate way for an intelligent creature to die. The brain starves first, leading to madness. More than the embrace of death, J'quar feared the madness.
J'quar measured 30 degrees Northeast and began to walk. The same angle as yesterday. The same pace as yesterday. Breathe in, step, step, breathe out, step, breathe in, step, step....
How long had he been walking alone? Had it been days? Weeks? He held on to the repetition. The angle, the steps. It kept him sane. As long as he could take another step, he could survive. As long as he kept to the same direction, the desert would eventually come to an end. There must be an ocean, or a road, or a village.
What's this? In the distance? J'quar squinted, cupping his hand over his brow to shield his eyes from the piercing rays of the setting sun.
Not a road, not a village.
An oasis.
Water.
The strength to continue.
J'quar altered his path to reach the oasis. It would require a mere 5 degrees off his path.
So he went.
Step, breathe in, step, step, step, breathe out, step....
J'quar coughed, somewhat confused. What had gone wrong?
Breathe in, step, breathe out, step, breathe in, step...
Why was he running? J'quar couldn't remember.
The oasis.
Somehow it seemed even further away.
Bearings. J'quar turned around to see his own footprints and reorient himself.
Only, his footprints were gone.
How could this be?
He turned back around to strike out for the oasis, determining to get his bearings again and set a new course once his waterskin could be filled. Only, the oasis was gone.
J'quar fell to his knees.
Too late, he realized his mistake. He had given up the path, and the desert does not forgive such transgression. J'quar would never find the path again.
J'quar measured 30 degrees Northeast and began to walk. The same angle as yesterday. The same pace as yesterday. Breathe in, step, step, breathe out, step, breathe in, step, step....
How long had he been walking alone? Had it been days? Weeks? He held on to the repetition. The angle, the steps. It kept him sane. As long as he could take another step, he could survive. As long as he kept to the same direction, the desert would eventually come to an end. There must be an ocean, or a road, or a village.
What's this? In the distance? J'quar squinted, cupping his hand over his brow to shield his eyes from the piercing rays of the setting sun.
Not a road, not a village.
An oasis.
Water.
The strength to continue.
J'quar altered his path to reach the oasis. It would require a mere 5 degrees off his path.
So he went.
Step, breathe in, step, step, step, breathe out, step....
J'quar coughed, somewhat confused. What had gone wrong?
Breathe in, step, breathe out, step, breathe in, step...
Why was he running? J'quar couldn't remember.
The oasis.
Somehow it seemed even further away.
Bearings. J'quar turned around to see his own footprints and reorient himself.
Only, his footprints were gone.
How could this be?
He turned back around to strike out for the oasis, determining to get his bearings again and set a new course once his waterskin could be filled. Only, the oasis was gone.
J'quar fell to his knees.
Too late, he realized his mistake. He had given up the path, and the desert does not forgive such transgression. J'quar would never find the path again.
Introduction of Burninandom -- from this thread on the old forum:
Located atop the highest peaks of the Durkheim Mountains, Burninandom has sat for most of its history in splendid, voluntary isolation. Children of a spacefaring race, Burninites saw no reason to seek the company of the races inhabiting the fair planet of the DSA. See, the Burninites of Burninandom broke away from greater Burnination generations ago to seek settlement in the stars. Essentially, the colony of Burninandom set up an orbital garden over the DSA, which it used for its botanical research and food production. It located its space elevator on a deserted mountain range and took great care to avoid detection by locals.
But even advanced civilizations make mistakes. And sometimes, big ones. Big enough to like, lose the orbital space satellite that contains like, everything you eat and all your technology and stuff.
See, Burninites didn't really do a long term environmental study of these mountainous peaks before settling there, trusting in the ingenuity and construction of its technology to be good enough for whatever an M-class planet would throw at them.
A fatal miscalculation.
Long story short, a freak set of circumstances conspired to upend Burninandom and throw it into chaos. Solar flare activity simultaneously knocked out Burninite ground-to-satellite communications and threatened to push the Orbital Garden slightly off its orbit, but of course, it was held in place by the gravweb on the ground. However, simultaneously, the strongest winter storm in the last century slammed into the Durkheim mountains at this precise time, dropping two meters of snow in a mere 6 hours, lowering the temperature to minus 15 centigrade, and producing 100+ km/h winds .
All this is unlikely, but the engineering incident that sent the orbital garden careening into space in some random direction is even less likely. A group of burninites was riding up the space elevator at the time the gravweb gave out, which caused unexpected vibrations in the elevator. Burninites panicked, and pressed the emergency stop command. But frozen components below failed to engage just as components above did engage, which caused an imbalance in forces. The computers in the orbital garden got unknown errors as a result of messy communications as a result of the solar flares, and, well... the AI's in the orbital garden assumed that the AI's controlling the gravweb would attempt to stabilize the station via the gravweb, and the AI's controlling the computers on the ground assumed that the AI's in the orbital garden would do so. Not wishing to step on one anothers' toes, they both waited for the other to prevent the oncoming catastrophe, until...
The elevator buckled and cracked, and the AI's above were forced to use thrusters to launch the satellite away from the planet to avoid falling to the ground. And as it turns out, whoever was supposed to refuel the fusion cells that day had shirked their duties, meaning that the fate of the orbital garden and the fates of those on the ground were not likely to be intertwined in the future.
When communications ground-to-satellite were restored, it was already too late.
And Burninites knew it.
==============
"Are you sure this will work?" inquired Chairwoman Zhaan, looking at the steel contraption doubtfully.
"I am 100%....99% sure this will work," the botanist replied with hesitation. "Look, it's been a long time since I studied mechanics, and, well, it's not like I can access the satellite's stores. Anyway, this should suffice for primitive radio communications."
Zhaan glared at the man pointedly. "Without the databases on the Garden, Thorogood, this 'primitive' technology is likely to be all that we can maintain."
The botanist's face paled as he considered this.
"But Chairwoman, without the Garden..."
"We will starve, yes. Unless your radio works."
The botanist -- Thorogood -- blinked. "It will work, ma'am. I am sure of it."
"Good."
Chairwoman Zhaan flicked the 'on' switch.
"For anyone receiving this transmission, this is a message from Chairwoman Zhaan of Burninandom. A series of unfortunate events has befallen us, and we find ourselves in dire need of humanitarian assistance. Please respond on this frequency."
But even advanced civilizations make mistakes. And sometimes, big ones. Big enough to like, lose the orbital space satellite that contains like, everything you eat and all your technology and stuff.
See, Burninites didn't really do a long term environmental study of these mountainous peaks before settling there, trusting in the ingenuity and construction of its technology to be good enough for whatever an M-class planet would throw at them.
A fatal miscalculation.
Long story short, a freak set of circumstances conspired to upend Burninandom and throw it into chaos. Solar flare activity simultaneously knocked out Burninite ground-to-satellite communications and threatened to push the Orbital Garden slightly off its orbit, but of course, it was held in place by the gravweb on the ground. However, simultaneously, the strongest winter storm in the last century slammed into the Durkheim mountains at this precise time, dropping two meters of snow in a mere 6 hours, lowering the temperature to minus 15 centigrade, and producing 100+ km/h winds .
All this is unlikely, but the engineering incident that sent the orbital garden careening into space in some random direction is even less likely. A group of burninites was riding up the space elevator at the time the gravweb gave out, which caused unexpected vibrations in the elevator. Burninites panicked, and pressed the emergency stop command. But frozen components below failed to engage just as components above did engage, which caused an imbalance in forces. The computers in the orbital garden got unknown errors as a result of messy communications as a result of the solar flares, and, well... the AI's in the orbital garden assumed that the AI's controlling the gravweb would attempt to stabilize the station via the gravweb, and the AI's controlling the computers on the ground assumed that the AI's in the orbital garden would do so. Not wishing to step on one anothers' toes, they both waited for the other to prevent the oncoming catastrophe, until...
The elevator buckled and cracked, and the AI's above were forced to use thrusters to launch the satellite away from the planet to avoid falling to the ground. And as it turns out, whoever was supposed to refuel the fusion cells that day had shirked their duties, meaning that the fate of the orbital garden and the fates of those on the ground were not likely to be intertwined in the future.
When communications ground-to-satellite were restored, it was already too late.
And Burninites knew it.
==============
"Are you sure this will work?" inquired Chairwoman Zhaan, looking at the steel contraption doubtfully.
"I am 100%....99% sure this will work," the botanist replied with hesitation. "Look, it's been a long time since I studied mechanics, and, well, it's not like I can access the satellite's stores. Anyway, this should suffice for primitive radio communications."
Zhaan glared at the man pointedly. "Without the databases on the Garden, Thorogood, this 'primitive' technology is likely to be all that we can maintain."
The botanist's face paled as he considered this.
"But Chairwoman, without the Garden..."
"We will starve, yes. Unless your radio works."
The botanist -- Thorogood -- blinked. "It will work, ma'am. I am sure of it."
"Good."
Chairwoman Zhaan flicked the 'on' switch.
"For anyone receiving this transmission, this is a message from Chairwoman Zhaan of Burninandom. A series of unfortunate events has befallen us, and we find ourselves in dire need of humanitarian assistance. Please respond on this frequency."
[[Alpyrea was largely responsible for providing the aid that saved Burninandom in those days.]]
Current RP.
