Crocmon
Pop-punk n' space magic. Not always in that order.
"All systems go out on the floor,
This is what you came here for!"
- deadmau5, "Hi Friend!"
This is what you came here for!"
- deadmau5, "Hi Friend!"
"Fought one apocalypse off already. Then, when we got bored, we found another. We stopped fighting long enough each time to not totally go extinct. But, we are our best whetstone, so we're back at it again. Ain't in our nature to stop stabbing, shooting, or otherwise enacting ill will on one another."
Understanding Humanity is a task that not even the most aged philosophers in Human history could fully comprehend. After a great moment unifies people, they are often just as quick to separate and break apart. During OPERATION: RAGNAROK, a Republic of Terra-led assault on a planet that gave the operation its name, the various creeds and faiths of Humanity stood shoulder-by-shoulder, rifles downrange, and threw out all their differences to be a phalanx of controlled violence. Mercenaries with bounties on their heads were not chased, soldiers and rebel upstarts alike put aside their differences, and for the sacrifices of these few, the ones who crawled from the smoking wreckage of Mankind found a species in mourning. However, mourning turned to rage. All who served were given a medal from the Republic of Terra which would give them all citizenship, but the Republic ceded its claims on 70% of human controlled space. A vacuum was created in the Outer Colonies, and petty disputes soon became cold wars as various factions swore to never repeat the mistakes of the Republic.
Some colonies want to be left alone, but planets and their stars hold resources. Resources fuel war machines, piloted by men hungry for more than what they have. Such as it's always been.
Understanding Humanity is a task that not even the most aged philosophers in Human history could fully comprehend. After a great moment unifies people, they are often just as quick to separate and break apart. During OPERATION: RAGNAROK, a Republic of Terra-led assault on a planet that gave the operation its name, the various creeds and faiths of Humanity stood shoulder-by-shoulder, rifles downrange, and threw out all their differences to be a phalanx of controlled violence. Mercenaries with bounties on their heads were not chased, soldiers and rebel upstarts alike put aside their differences, and for the sacrifices of these few, the ones who crawled from the smoking wreckage of Mankind found a species in mourning. However, mourning turned to rage. All who served were given a medal from the Republic of Terra which would give them all citizenship, but the Republic ceded its claims on 70% of human controlled space. A vacuum was created in the Outer Colonies, and petty disputes soon became cold wars as various factions swore to never repeat the mistakes of the Republic.
Some colonies want to be left alone, but planets and their stars hold resources. Resources fuel war machines, piloted by men hungry for more than what they have. Such as it's always been.
"And what's our shout, recruits?!"
"In defecionem Terram et hominem!"
"Say it like you got a purpose, like you're tryin' to scare the Plague away!"
"IN DEFENCIONEM TERRAM, ET HOMINEM!"
A faction borne from the embers of a nuclear war, the Republic of Terra's flag is one of a sword in front of Earth, held vertically to show that it is on display. A promise made: the enemies of Earth and its people will answer to Earth and its people. Once the only faction that Humanity rallied under, the Republic of Terra now accounts for about 30% of the territory under the alliance of stars known as the "Confederacy of Mankind." However, this has done very little to curtail the pride of the Republic's people. While heavily taxed and subject to heavy-handed legislature, the Republic of Terra guarantees minimum income, healthcare, and education to all of its citizens. However, citizenship is gated behind Federal Service, and it requires a minimum of two years working a government job. From working a Federal food court to wearing massive suits of powered armor and putting warheads to foreheads, Republic citizens-to-be can earn their keep through all manner of ways. While it may not be a perfect system, many of the Republic would hold that such a barrier to citizenship is hardly a barrier at all. While in the service, you enjoy the benefits, and finishing your term means you keep them after you have left the position.
"In defecionem Terram et hominem!"
"Say it like you got a purpose, like you're tryin' to scare the Plague away!"
"IN DEFENCIONEM TERRAM, ET HOMINEM!"
A faction borne from the embers of a nuclear war, the Republic of Terra's flag is one of a sword in front of Earth, held vertically to show that it is on display. A promise made: the enemies of Earth and its people will answer to Earth and its people. Once the only faction that Humanity rallied under, the Republic of Terra now accounts for about 30% of the territory under the alliance of stars known as the "Confederacy of Mankind." However, this has done very little to curtail the pride of the Republic's people. While heavily taxed and subject to heavy-handed legislature, the Republic of Terra guarantees minimum income, healthcare, and education to all of its citizens. However, citizenship is gated behind Federal Service, and it requires a minimum of two years working a government job. From working a Federal food court to wearing massive suits of powered armor and putting warheads to foreheads, Republic citizens-to-be can earn their keep through all manner of ways. While it may not be a perfect system, many of the Republic would hold that such a barrier to citizenship is hardly a barrier at all. While in the service, you enjoy the benefits, and finishing your term means you keep them after you have left the position.
"We are the dark when you want lights out!"
When the bombs fell, and humanity was at its darkest, a lone group took it upon themselves to seek out what mankind risked losing most. The full story has been lost to time, but what was originally a biker gang donned a new moniker as the radiation dissipated and the Earth began to heal. They called themselves the Black Scribes, and they would make small, four- or six-man teams that could take on armies by themselves. Specializing in quick, dirty, and brutally efficient asymmetrical warfare, the Black Scribes plundered from raiders and savage hordes the very knowledge that they otherwise would have hoarded. Riding through the wastes, peaceful settlements were trained and armed by the mysterious Black Scribes. When the Republic was formed, they faded into obscurity. Considered criminals after a clandestine shootout in the early days of the Martian Colonial Wars, the Black Scribes changed from 'uncommon sights' to 'secret society.' It was not until the Plague War that they broke their masquerade, and provided asymmetrical warfare against the hordes of necrotic monstrosities. Now, they operate where the Republic cannot to defend the common man.
When the bombs fell, and humanity was at its darkest, a lone group took it upon themselves to seek out what mankind risked losing most. The full story has been lost to time, but what was originally a biker gang donned a new moniker as the radiation dissipated and the Earth began to heal. They called themselves the Black Scribes, and they would make small, four- or six-man teams that could take on armies by themselves. Specializing in quick, dirty, and brutally efficient asymmetrical warfare, the Black Scribes plundered from raiders and savage hordes the very knowledge that they otherwise would have hoarded. Riding through the wastes, peaceful settlements were trained and armed by the mysterious Black Scribes. When the Republic was formed, they faded into obscurity. Considered criminals after a clandestine shootout in the early days of the Martian Colonial Wars, the Black Scribes changed from 'uncommon sights' to 'secret society.' It was not until the Plague War that they broke their masquerade, and provided asymmetrical warfare against the hordes of necrotic monstrosities. Now, they operate where the Republic cannot to defend the common man.
The land is mountainous, and farmland is scarce. The real money comes from its mineral riches, but the scenery would make it a tourist’s favored destination were the people willing to humor tourism. The cold weather is almost perpetually at sixty-five degrees Fahrenheit, with winters dropping it down to subzero temperatures at the worst. The vegetation is hardy, though, and what is farmed is virtually guaranteed to last the winter. While there are farmsteads, there is a clear divide between the people of the colony. There are the red-headed, pale-skinned folk who tend to gravitate toward the city at the center of the colony proper, and some of the farmsteads and mines that provide the colony most of its money. However, the people of Mongolian descent tend to keep to their migratory yurts in the mountains, traveling as their livestock requires.
New Barnagh was created by The Song of Barnagh LLC, a small corporation that seeks to restore the glories of Pre-Promethean Ireland. While the island itself is mostly restored as most places on Earth are, it has become a population center with a sprawling city consuming most of its territory. "The bombs that fell and created the Promethean Era forever muddled the rich history of the Irish people," Song of Barnagh CEO Conall Griffon is quoted, "And it stands on our shoulders to bring our heritage to the proud glory it has always deserved." While a significant portion of New Barnagh bear traits believed to be Irish (genealogy through the Promethean Era being nearly impossible making these traits approximations based on Pre-Promethean cultural remnants at best), another population quickly found the mountainous regions of New Barnagh home after Migrant Fleet Shuurga brought refugees from their previous desert colony of Little Mongolia. In fact, a proud point of note for the colony of New Barnagh is the strong bonds between the two cultures, which many believed would have been contending with one another due to how drastically different they were, and the Republic's involvement with the arrival of Migrant Fleet Shuurga.
A common frustration brings people together, and neither population is particularly fond of the Republic's mishandling of New Dublin and Little Mongolia during the initial stages of the Plague War. Most residents of New Barnagh believe that the Republic's involvement has given them reason to unite: they believe that had this alliance of peoples formed sooner, the Plague War would have deprived neither from their recent homes.
A common frustration brings people together, and neither population is particularly fond of the Republic's mishandling of New Dublin and Little Mongolia during the initial stages of the Plague War. Most residents of New Barnagh believe that the Republic's involvement has given them reason to unite: they believe that had this alliance of peoples formed sooner, the Plague War would have deprived neither from their recent homes.
Before the dawn of the Promethean Era, humanity's resources had worn thin and evolutionary pressures were once again exerted on mankind as humans began probing deeper and deeper into the dwindling yet ever-increasingly hostile wilderness. After what was believed to be the beginnings of a supersoldier project, humanity experimented with genetic engineering to create an additional organ at the base of the skull in order to accelerate information processing. To explain the general idea, the organ was intended to create an equivalent of installing additional RAM to a personal computer.
Pre-Promethean records have gone on record as stating that this organ "solved a puzzle that nobody knew was there," and allowed humans to engage in telepathic communication across extremely limited distances. This organ - and the modifications that allowed it - became a fairly stubborn trait which caused it to become fairly common once it was fully disclosed to the public. While fears were many, contrary to popular fiction of the time Humanity quickly fell in love with this trait and it became almost venerated. When the Promethean Era began, the nuclear radiation caused an explosion of capabilities from those who have the organ. Once only the source of telepathic communication and mild telekinetic capabilities, the Psi-Node serves as a conduit between the nervous system of a Psionic and the world around them. Simply put, a Psi Node allows a Psionic to seemingly bend reality around them. Those who study this phenomenon vehemently refuse this notion of reality-bending, but cede that such an explanation is far easier to communicate to the uninitiated, as "providing a human the capability to manipulate the Strings that comprise reality and thus only seeming to be magic" is a mouthful.
Today, roughly 40% of all humans are some form of psionic, with fractions of that 40% being split into four categories, or 'Grades.' In order of strength from least to greatest, Psionics exist in Grades Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, and culminating in Delta.
Pre-Promethean records have gone on record as stating that this organ "solved a puzzle that nobody knew was there," and allowed humans to engage in telepathic communication across extremely limited distances. This organ - and the modifications that allowed it - became a fairly stubborn trait which caused it to become fairly common once it was fully disclosed to the public. While fears were many, contrary to popular fiction of the time Humanity quickly fell in love with this trait and it became almost venerated. When the Promethean Era began, the nuclear radiation caused an explosion of capabilities from those who have the organ. Once only the source of telepathic communication and mild telekinetic capabilities, the Psi-Node serves as a conduit between the nervous system of a Psionic and the world around them. Simply put, a Psi Node allows a Psionic to seemingly bend reality around them. Those who study this phenomenon vehemently refuse this notion of reality-bending, but cede that such an explanation is far easier to communicate to the uninitiated, as "providing a human the capability to manipulate the Strings that comprise reality and thus only seeming to be magic" is a mouthful.
Today, roughly 40% of all humans are some form of psionic, with fractions of that 40% being split into four categories, or 'Grades.' In order of strength from least to greatest, Psionics exist in Grades Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, and culminating in Delta.
"Entropists tap into things that skate the perceptions of mortal men. Phobias, delusions, and contained madness are all tools from an Entropist’s belt, these psionics are often embracing their powers to influence people. Why shoot someone to death, when you can make them faint from the fear of reality falling out from under them?"
- A Primer on Eldritch Psionics in Combat, by Elaine Harrington
Entropists are a branch of Psionics that are something of a mystery to non-Psionics, and something dramatically different to Psionics. They use targeted telepathy to rip and tear at a target's psyche in ways that often leave permanent damage. Unlike their companion subschools in the Eldritch discipline, Entropists treat their art as one of arcana, passing their knowledge along with tutors, spellbooks. Few Entropists study another art, and fewer Psionics add Entropy as a secondary study due to the sheer diligence needed to fully comprehend the art. For some, even entry-level Entropism and the studies that it requires are too much to pursue.
- A Primer on Eldritch Psionics in Combat, by Elaine Harrington
Entropists are a branch of Psionics that are something of a mystery to non-Psionics, and something dramatically different to Psionics. They use targeted telepathy to rip and tear at a target's psyche in ways that often leave permanent damage. Unlike their companion subschools in the Eldritch discipline, Entropists treat their art as one of arcana, passing their knowledge along with tutors, spellbooks. Few Entropists study another art, and fewer Psionics add Entropy as a secondary study due to the sheer diligence needed to fully comprehend the art. For some, even entry-level Entropism and the studies that it requires are too much to pursue.
With increased processing power, comes an inherent imbalance to the brain chemistry of a Psionic. Most Psionics of the Confederacy of Mankind (roughly three-fourths) are Grade Charlies, and Grade Charlies are often susceptible to their brain chemistries swinging wildly in one direction or another. Depending on the nature of a Grade Charlie's power, they may find themselves having to meditate on things to reconnect themselves, or exert their power in order to silence the Strings That Make. However, when this is not possible, or a Grade Charlie pushes themselves beyond their limits, they fall into what is known as a Psi-Terror.
No two Psi-Terrors are ever precisely alike, with the most trained and disciplined psionics being able to funnel the destructive power a panic attack inward and maintain limited exertion of their power on the world around them. For the rest, a Psi-Terror is a complete and utter break of sanity. All the previously-not-quite-paracausal powers tear out the throat of existence and render naked the sheer destructive capabilities of their Discipline. Elementalists become avatars of elemental fury, Kineticists play the laws of Physics like musical instruments, and Eldritch psionics become the telepathic equivalent of nuclear detonations. While often extremely localized (most simply affecting their immediate surroundings), some Psi-Terrors have been known to affect the flow of time in areas of at least square miles.
A popular theory on this phenomena (and one that is widely accepted as true), is that a Psi-Terror is a cost. A sort of a balance: the sides of an equation must equate. A Grade Charlie often may warp reality, conjuring the elements around them or ripping bulkheads from starships with nary but a thought, the Psi-Terror is an example of the typical human mind being fully unable to cope with the power it truly holds. A Psionic must spend something in order to maintain its powers: things cannot truly be spontaneously created as that invalidates the most basic laws of reality. Charlies can sometimes entirely lose track of this, and spend more than they have to give. Those few who can resist overspending rarely stay a Grade Charlie, and ascend to Grade Delta when they shift the cost from their mind to the entire human body. However, when the stores of energy in the nervous system cannot pay the cost of what the Grade Charlie, Bravo, or Alpha attempts to perform, they lose control and pay the cost with their immediate surroundings instead. This causes the lasting destructive effects of an area, from time-dilation of several seconds (as if under the effect of a gravitic imbalance) to a permanent temperature shift, to "hauntings" as fragments of the mental break persist telepathically in an area.
Beyond this clinical explanation, Psi-Terrors are a genuine concern for psionics and the loved ones of psionics. If you are in immediate danger from a Psi-Terror or are currently experiencing one, do everything in your power to reach out to the local planetary authorities. A crisis team will be more capable of assisting you. However, if you suspect you or a loved one are on the verge of Psi-Terror, contact an Eldritch Psionic of the Somaticist subschool as soon as safely possible, so that they may guide you from the Strings That Make back to reality. The following hotlines can help you find one on your planet: [INSERT LOCAL NUMBERS HERE]
No two Psi-Terrors are ever precisely alike, with the most trained and disciplined psionics being able to funnel the destructive power a panic attack inward and maintain limited exertion of their power on the world around them. For the rest, a Psi-Terror is a complete and utter break of sanity. All the previously-not-quite-paracausal powers tear out the throat of existence and render naked the sheer destructive capabilities of their Discipline. Elementalists become avatars of elemental fury, Kineticists play the laws of Physics like musical instruments, and Eldritch psionics become the telepathic equivalent of nuclear detonations. While often extremely localized (most simply affecting their immediate surroundings), some Psi-Terrors have been known to affect the flow of time in areas of at least square miles.
A popular theory on this phenomena (and one that is widely accepted as true), is that a Psi-Terror is a cost. A sort of a balance: the sides of an equation must equate. A Grade Charlie often may warp reality, conjuring the elements around them or ripping bulkheads from starships with nary but a thought, the Psi-Terror is an example of the typical human mind being fully unable to cope with the power it truly holds. A Psionic must spend something in order to maintain its powers: things cannot truly be spontaneously created as that invalidates the most basic laws of reality. Charlies can sometimes entirely lose track of this, and spend more than they have to give. Those few who can resist overspending rarely stay a Grade Charlie, and ascend to Grade Delta when they shift the cost from their mind to the entire human body. However, when the stores of energy in the nervous system cannot pay the cost of what the Grade Charlie, Bravo, or Alpha attempts to perform, they lose control and pay the cost with their immediate surroundings instead. This causes the lasting destructive effects of an area, from time-dilation of several seconds (as if under the effect of a gravitic imbalance) to a permanent temperature shift, to "hauntings" as fragments of the mental break persist telepathically in an area.
Beyond this clinical explanation, Psi-Terrors are a genuine concern for psionics and the loved ones of psionics. If you are in immediate danger from a Psi-Terror or are currently experiencing one, do everything in your power to reach out to the local planetary authorities. A crisis team will be more capable of assisting you. However, if you suspect you or a loved one are on the verge of Psi-Terror, contact an Eldritch Psionic of the Somaticist subschool as soon as safely possible, so that they may guide you from the Strings That Make back to reality. The following hotlines can help you find one on your planet: [INSERT LOCAL NUMBERS HERE]
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