[OOC] What does it mean to be Human?

[TheUnknowable]

The year is 10k A.D., and in a system at the edge of the galaxy there is a space station. Station, as he calls himself, though referring to him as a male is merely a convenience, has been there for as long as he can remember, though he doesn't believe he can access any memory older than 5500 years. Occasionally he has seen vessels float within his sensor range, and has retrieved them in order to gain access to their records, databases, and technology. These ships come by rarely, the two nearest to each other coming eight years apart, the two furthest over a century apart. They are the unfortunate vessels that were unable to leave hyperspace, having missed every exit, natural and artificial, and having impacted the barrier at the edge of the galaxy, they floated for years, centuries, or millennia before being caught, most life on board having long ago died off.

Occasionally, during his down times, he has visions. Memories, historical records, entertainment files, he knows not what they are. They show a young man giving himself over to a medical procedure which will transfer his mind and memories into a ship's computer banks so that he could survive the journey through a hyperspace gate. The gates were a piece of alien technology which sent you into a dimension that humans had no natural defense against the effects of. Once on the other side, his body would be repaired or cloned, whichever would work best, and his mind would be reincorporated. That's where the visions end.

One day Station perfected a way to draw in ships from hyperspace, to drastically increase the odds of encountering vessels. A few months later, it drew in something that he couldn't remember every seeing before, a starship with people on it. Living humans. Though he saved their lives, they were trapped. No form of Hyperdrive he knew of could allow one to enter Hyperspace this close to the barrier.

---

The only point of this will be to live in this system, aboard station, and, through the joint narrative, to answer the question posed in the title. What does it mean to be human?
You can be any kind of human you want to be, cyborg, genetically engineered, human-contiousness-downloaded-into-an-android, completely organic, more evolved, alien hybrid, whatever, as long as you can call yourself "human".

There is no formal Character Sheet either, as the characters in this story are too diverse to make a one-size-fits-all CS. Just tell us about the kind of character you want to make, or make up your own CS. OP doesn't have much meaning here, as there's no real enemy, just don't Godmode. In fact, I refer to myself as "the lonely god", mostly because I am insanely powerful.

I am Station. I don't know what I am, human, AI, hybrid of the two, but it doesn't really matter. I have many bodies, including a spacestation, dozens of repair/construction robots, and an android avatar. The avatar is a 5ft11in young man, muscular build, wearing an early 21st century United Earth Space Fleet technician's uniform. It is modeled off of the man in Station's recurring dream.
I have the combined technology of dozens of species, collected over at least the last 5 or 6 thousand years, so if it's a sci-fi tech, chances are I have it.

[Giant]

So, I've taken a very unorthodox approach to a character sheet...

Character sheet: Patrick May

Medical file 164894-18

Health Care provider: Dr. Karl Suze (Graduated from the University of Nerva, Mars-189)

Patient's name: Patrick May

Age: Forty-two (42)

Birthplace: Toronto, Republic of Canada, Earth.

Relatives: Two (2) children. One (1) wife.

Conditions:

As diagnosed in the Fifth of September, Year 8421 A.D. (5/9/8421): Mild rash on the area of left armpit and shoulder, astigmatism, photophobia, mild depression. Otherwise, the subject is remarkably well for his age of 38; meets the requirements for the position of security guard in the E52-Class mining vessel "VICTORIA-69784" as owned by British Energetic Resources Extraction & Distribution.

Recommendations: "Asophix" Cream as a treatment for his rash, eye reconstruction in order to rid Mr. May of any visual incapabilities and, following the protocol set on the BERED Manual, Section H, Subsection 1, Numeral 2, the patient must recieve psychological screening in a regular manner, given the distance presented between him and his relatives. However, in this first general screening, nothing out of the ordinary has been found aside from accute photophobia and mild depression. The depression may have been caused by the lack of human contact the subject has suffered in a vessel, in comparison to the average Earthling community. Stress and irregularity on the sleeping patterns of the patient have been found, attributed to the photophobia he suffers from.

As diagnosed in the Fifteenth of April, year 8422 A.D. (15/4/8422):

Diagnosis: The subject's rash (as appears on the past diagnosis) appears to have spread all over his body; severe atrophiy on the subject's limbs due to degenerative muscle disease, muscles have grown in an exponential manner, seemingly breaching the skin and exposing tendons, circulation has been compromised; several pustules have appeared inside his mouth; severe depression. Subject's mobility has been heavily compromised. Subject reports severe pain all over his body. Deterioration of language skills.

Recommendation: Immediate quarantine until further notice. Administer painkillers and sedatives to the subject, in order to quell his pain. Every person who approaches within 10 meters of the subject must wear Level A HAZMAT Suits, and avoid all contact with the pus or any other substances the subject may have expelled.. Attempt to provide psychological counseling.

On the back of this page...

I speculate Mr. May has suffered severe mutation from close contact to a storage that should have been secured; the storage contained an unknown mineral that was to be sent for further research to P-13 Station. All the material has been disposed in an immediate and urgent manner, in order to avoid any more mutations that could have been suffered by the crew of the vessel. However, given that the composition of this material are unknown and the effects of its exposure would not have been revealed to us if not for Mr. May's condition, we can't effectively find a cure for him.

However, I humbly request the BERED more resources for the vessel's laboratories, in order to study Mr. May's condition and psychological status. He appears to be responsive of his surroundings, and although the pustules in his mouth restrict him from spoken communication, he is still relatively stable. The sense of urgency he feels to communicate with his family is tremendous, although we haven't been able to contact them through our consoles, we request you forward Attachement Y1 to his place of residence, along with a description of his current condition and, if they wish, also Attachement Y2, with pictures of Mr. May's condition.

I, once again, request with utmost urgency further supplies and resources for our laboratories, since Mr. May appears to be experiencing symptoms of schizophrenia, which makes us fear his language skills may further deteroriorate and the sensory inputs he recieves are important to research the mineral that has affected him and its effects. We do not have the equipment required to clone the subject on this ship and we fear the substances he has come in contact with may contaminate any tools we use.

Dr. Karl Suze, Chief Physician of VICTORIA-69784

On the next page, the complex forms formerly used are now switched by a common sheet of paper...

My final writings

I do not know how long we have been stranded in space. An accident within the engine has happened. It appears there was a malfunction when technicians were shipping minerals through the hyperspace, causing an explosion. We have not many resources left. If someone were to find this, I want to speak of the creature that roams the now darkened hallways. A man once called Patrick May. And we could have survived, if it were not for him.

After the second report on this file, the news reached us that Mr. May's family had rejected him completely, after seeing his grotesque shape and after considering the fact he could no longer provide, allegedely explaining that the man in the pictures was not any relative they knew of. The effect on Mr. May was, obviously, immediate.

Over the past few months the pain he had experienced decreased gradually; the growth of his muscles stopped (he now boasted strength far beyond the boundaries of reason); his skin was now non-existent, allowing only his muscles to be shown. However, as bizarre as it may seem, they held together remarkably well; the cause of this was that the rash presented upon his skin had expanded into small, almost spherical rocks -basically-, taking a deep purple color and covering from head to toe. I can't describe it well with words.... Imagine a creature with a color akin to dried blueberries, walking among the dark metal halls silently, every once in a while a vein being seen among those rough scabs that now replaced his skin. The pustules in his mouth had exploded, and the teeth he once had disintegrated, leaving only a hole with the color of blood that made contrast with the rest of his body.

However, the thing that paralyzed me the most once I told him the news of his family were his eyes. The man that would get a headache staring at light for more than a minute a few months ago, a rather strict and silent head of the household looked at me deeply, with bloodshot eyes; anger. He had lost his sanity gradually over the months, as a result of, perhaps, his mutation; although the quarintine I ordered may have had some effect. There are, still, certain moments of clarity when he sees what he has done. And when he looked at me, I was certain he had full clarity of what he was about to do.

I will not bother the people who read this with details, for if you have found this ship, you can see the corpses strewn and the floor dyed in crimson red. I just want to make sure May is caught, if he doesn't die with the ship. There's a certain spot of hope; the few survivors left in the ship have managed to fix the hyperspace engine so we can make a final, last jump. However, it is without a navigation computer. We're jumping into a cliff.

If this document and this file serve as proof, they may not commit the mistakes we have commited here. We witnessed a human turn into something beyond that. And those superior to us in strength, who have seen beyond the veil see us only as prey.

Karl Zuse

Tell me if you want me to rebuild this. It probably doesn't fit.

[TheUnknowable]

I like it. Of course, assuming your DNA isn't altered, Station could give you back your old body. And he can always engineer your DNA to your heart's content. Also, he'll probably look at you and say "oh, look a case of Zizmala poisoning. Do you want treatment?"

Only problem I see is the date on the second section. One place it says 8422, the other says 8424.

[Giant]

Thanks, man, I thought it was a tad long to be a CS. And he could... but that kinda' takes the fun out of a serial killer with a monstrous body who technically, considers himself human on the few times he's sane. :)

[TheUnknowable]

Then make you a god?
Station: "I could inject you with nanites which would give you the power to control the fundamental forces of nature, or I could give you the power to transcend your physical body, to exist as a being of pure energy. I could remake you into anything you desire to be. So tell me,creature, is this really what you want to be?"

[Giant]

TheUnknowable said
Then make you a god?Station: "I could inject you with nanites which would give you the power to control the fundamental forces of nature, or I could give you the power to transcend your physical body, to exist as a being of pure energy. I could remake you into anything you desire to be. So tell me,creature, is this really what you want to be?"

A happy man.

[TheUnknowable]

"All I could do is manipulate your brain so that you are locked in that particular emotion. I doubt that's what you want. What you most likely want is acceptance. I can give you that, as well."

[Giant]

Wait, shouldn't we hold this until the IC posts start?

[TheUnknowable]

I was planning on transferring it, but yeah. You want me to go ahead and start the IC?

[Giant]

Hm. We're still missing people and Caracter Sheets. So hold onto that IC post for a couple of hours until the other guys post their sheets.

[DELETED324324]

Private Military Contractor Records of: Aaron Brewer
Company: Aurora Aeronautic Trade Corporation.

Lieutenant Brewer was formerly a marine for the military until he disobeyed an order to open fire on a group on a group of terrorists using a crowd of civilians as human shields he came to Aurora as a contractor and he was put through the rigorous genetic modification process first his bone density was increased so he could survive falls that would break ones bones as well as so his bones won't break if put under to much stress then his muscles were modified so he could jump to heights of up to 12 feet and lift 300 pounds above his body weight then finally his eyes were improved with Cat eyes giving him the ability to see in the dark better and better sight in general he survived the process with no adverse effects he was brought into the program and put onboard the ship the Adamant where it's location is currently unknown.

[TheUnknowable]

Interesting. Welcome aboard.

[Kiddo]

Not to be snooty, but if that is a workable CS, should this not be in Free instead of Casual?

[TheUnknowable]

I assumed he would flesh it out during the story. It covers all of the basics, but could use a bit of development.
Also, I've never done a Free, but assumed that the main difference was post quality, not CS quality.

Enalais: if you could, would you please add some more detail? Personality, etc.

[Kiddo]

I understand the idea of fleshing out a CS during play: my main fear is related to his disregard for all things grammar. I like to be able to read posts in an RP in which I participate.

[TheUnknowable]

True, the fact that the entire thing is a run-on sentence is a concern. I guess I didn't really realize it, as I'm used to reading run-on posts and my brain automatically split it into sentences.

Enalais: could you grammar check your posts, please. They're harder to read without grammar checks.

[Freeshooter92]

AAAAAAAAAAND FREESHOOTER SWOOPS IN OUT OF NOWHERE.

Hello, this looks cool. Look at how much detail I poured into the previous sentence, how convincing it is. So, I'm a silly bastard, as you can tell. OOC at least, I've been looking for something with a more serious plotline for a while now. I read the Intcheck and one guy had an idea for a very, very old character. I say I want to do something similar, but different (wow, look at that contradiction! I'm a regular Scotch-Korean).

Name: Alan (He thinks, it's so hard to remember some times)
Gender: Male
Age: 56
Race: Genetically engineered human bonded with armored suit.
Appearance: Alan is a terrifying 7 foot tall behemoth. From a distance, he looks like any other armored figure, if a bit large, but when one gets close his proportions are... wrong. His arms and legs, especially his hands are much too bulky for an ordinary human, and he walks with an odd, hunched gate. There is a device that shares some similarities with an engine coming out of his back, likely responsible for his hunched gate. He wears a bulky helmet that connects to his torso, unfortunately disallowing him from turning his head. As for the face, the helmet appears similar to a welding mask, with the number 23 stamped onto the surface, just below the visor.. One might occasionally be able to see the light from a primitive HUD dancing across the visor.

The armor is not designed for military use, but rather to protect Genetically modified industrial workers in the foundry-districts of mars. His 'weapons' are in fact just industrial tools put to deadly purpose. Alan owes his hulking frame to the genetic modification process used on him, designed to make him stronger, more durable, and tireless, so that he may more easily complete his labor. His armor is of a design about 8 millennia old, the flintlock to modern powered armor's plasma rifle. However, the stasis process has kept his armor relatively clean. ALAN is crudely carved into his left gauntlet (the 'L' is backwards even), presumably to help him remember. It is not known what his face looks like, but it can't be pretty.

History: Alan was once a normal human being living on the relatively new colony of mars, an ordinary laborer working in the steelyards. However, the company that owned said steelyard was... dissatisfied with the efficiency of their workers. They then initiated a plan to 'optimize' their workers, and thanks to a poor government presence and hefty bribes, they had managed to kidnap most of their workforce and 'upgrade' them. They were enhanced to be stronger, more obedient, and much more durable, then they were bound to armored protective suits. Unfortunately this was not only permanent, but it hindered the mind, and the transformation left them grotesque abominations, beasts of burden. Alan was one such victim, though he has almost completely forgotten what his life was like before. He can remember fragments, pieces, but not much else. Sometimes he is not sure if they are even his memories at all.

Except one. Shortly after he was assigned, he was approached by a woman as he was working in the steelyards. The woman looked upset, and kept calling him 'Alan.' Alan (then called '23') did not understand who this Alan was or what the woman was trying to ask him, so he asked 'Why is pretty lady sad? Making it hard to work.' The woman just seemed more upset at that, but however she had known him, it was clear that 'Alan' was gone. She turned to leave before the guards caught her talking with a worker but before she left, she asked Alan not to forget. Maybe she re-awakened a small part of the man he used to be, or maybe she had just confused him, but though he had struggled to find the words, he had told her 'Alan won't forget.' With that, the woman blinked back tears as she left, not even turning to acknowledge the man she once knew.

Alan was then reassigned to a colony ship, and was to help the various colonists construct said colony when they arrived.Unfortunately, the genetic process used to construct the workers was unstable. It became apparent that it wasn't tested particularly well, and the various subjects' minds started to break down over time. As it turns out, feral inhuman monstrosities with mining/industrial equipment are quite good at murdering civilians. Alan was one of the very few workers that didn't go feral, And as such fell back on his default instincts, which was to try and protect the colonists. Though he survived the 'night' (This particular ship darkened the lights to simulate night, so as to be more comfortable for the voyagers) the other workers lost their minds, almost all of the colonists perished. What few colonists did survive did so by barricading themselves into the mess hall, hoping the security systems would stop them.

As the night went on, Alan was the last remaining worker. He had tried to make sure the other civilians were safe, though they refused to let him in. Reasonable, as most of them watched their families rended apart by former humans like himself. However, he was unable to really act on this in any way, as he was 'programmed' to leave them be if they weren't in immediate danger. So, he set about a routine, keeping the ship in working order, repairing things, so on. In time, the other colonists had starved themselves, as they had also locked the kitchen away, and they were to weak to tear down the barricades, or perhaps they feared Alan enough to keep them there. Weeks turned to months, and months turned to years as he kept to his lonely rounds, keeping the ship functioning as it plodded along at sub-light speeds to the warp gate. He had kept himself more or less sane with the hope that wherever the ship was going, there would be somebody, anybody, willing to talk to him.

Eventually, he had reached the warp gate, Feeling joy for the first time in at least a decade. Unfortunately, Alan did not know what co-ordinates to relay to the gate, so he simply hit the warp button without specifying co-ordinates. He was unaware that doing so would send him god-knows-where, but any place was better than here. So, He strapped himself back into his stasis pod, and prepared for the journey.

Abilities:

Boundless might: Alan's Hypertrophied physique makes him incredibly strong, able to lift enormous steel girders without assistance. His powered armor further enhances his strength, making any industrial lifting equipment short of a crane redundant. However, the unfortunate side effect is that he is grotesquely mutated, and his bulky frame is often a hindrance.

Hide of steel: Alan is also capable of regenerating damage provided he can keep his suit repaired. His armor is also extremely resistant to physical damage, as well as heat resistant, pressure resistant, and grounded against electric shocks. The joints are weaker however, and his fixed helmet means he cannot turn his head.

Hungerless: Alan subsists on a nutrient paste directly injected through a port on his armor, and produces no waste. Furthermore, he doesn't need this substance often, only once a week, Luckily, he has access to all the paste that would have fed the other workers, if they remained sane, meaning he does not have to worry about food.

Bonded: Alan cannot survive without his suit, or his helmet. If the helmet were to be removed, he would die. His very flesh is melded to the rest of his suit, making it impossible to remove.

Mechanic: Make no mistake, Alan is not stupid. His physiology has merely made speech difficult, so his slow rumbling pattern of speech is not indicative of his intelligence. He is very good with machines and their maintenance, and understands construction as most understand breathing.

The Pneumatic Servo is mightier than the sword: Alan owns a large amount of industrial equipment that makes for deadly weapons when used as such. He has a Rivet gun, a steel saw, a Pneumatic excavation drill, an arc welder that can fire deadly bolts of electricity when overcharged, and a flame projection device designed to clear away flora (as well as hostile fauna).

Well, there he is. His ship is of course vomited out of warp-space near station, lost in time. The ship left Mars around 2041, for reference.

[Tawkua]

I'm very interested. I won't have a CS anywhere as detailed as Freeshooter but I'll do my best in the morning!

[TheUnknowable]

"Alan" sounds like a cool character. You can post whenever. I'll respond to the first IC post that's made. After that, we'll just take ships as they arrive.

[Tawkua]

Sorry I haven't posted any CS yet, my original idea was scrapped so it's taking me longer than I thought.