Post by Darth Grievi on Nov 25, 2007 16:40:00 GMT -5
Landscape picture, too huge for the forum
Homestar: Sigma
Homestar Type: Orange
Distance from the Homestar: 0.17 AU
Planet: Angal
Revolution around the Homestar: 96 rotations
Planet Rotation: 9 Earth-hours per day
Number of Moons: 1, Lost Hope (Artificial)
Gravity: 1.69 G
Axis Tilt: 1.5 Degrees
Temperature: Comfortable
Atmosphere: 1.61 atm (O2 45%,CO2 20%,N2 17%,CO 4%)
Volcanic Activity: Moderate
% Ocean Coverage: 32.03%
______________________________
Angal was a beautiful world filled with a peace-loving race untill recently. The AES Devastator, the Areli's superweapon, transmitted a simple message to the Angalesh; "Die". No chance of surrender, just death as their only option. Needless to say, the natives panicked. They had made contact with the Empire only days before and now had imminent destruction looming over their heads. Only 3,000 excaped, and when the fleet left the ravaged world, they set adrift a monument to their loved ones, a spaceborne cemetary identified only as Lost Hope...
Angalesh: Although a race of shapeshifters, the Angalesh haven't once thought of infiltration, undermining governments, or other such disruptive actions. To them, it is a waste of time that could be better spent learning or experiencing new things. But above all, family, and by extention the name, are the most important things in their lives. When one takes on several different forms, sticking to one's name is the only means of sure identification.
After the destruction of Angal, the survivors quietly and descretely inserted themselves into the surrounding cultures. However, once there was a slight chance of being found out, they pulled out and left as quickly as they had entered. This led to the seperation of the group, and although they may end up sitting not three feet from each other, there is no way to safely tell who is who, as many have changed their names to better blend with the natives.
Their ability works as follows: Their bloodstream is flooded with an extra enzyme that, when triggered by the nervous system, activates certain organells (little thingies inside cells) in the cells. Those begin re-writing their DNA and cause the cells to multiply amazingly fast, while unneeded cells are absorbed and used to help fuel the process. This allows them to morph into pretty much anything multi-cellular with DNA.
There are a few limits, though. They can't re-write the genes that allow them to shift in the first place. Things that require a complete re-haul of the genetic code (plants, for example) often leave them exhausted for hours. Several shifts in a row does the same thing. They are unable to morph while asleep or unconcious. The only exception are a few reflexive shifts (Forming gills when under water, forming armor plating when a large or fast-moving object comes towards them, like fliching) Finally, it can be disabled or controlled by an outside force, I'm not telling you how though... :wink:
______________________________
From the Journal of Iniros Olus:
Some people think that an enraged warrior behind the turret of a superweapon is the most destructive force in the Galaxy. Others belive a calm one would be more deadly. In truth, a xenophobic mind controling that much power can destroy any planet, exterminate any race, and break any bonds you once held dear. What sets it apart is the fact that in the end, it will all be justified through some propaganda, some steriotype, or some boldfaced lie that is believed because of popular opinion. And while they are rejoicing the elimination of the "Shifter Threat" as they call it, they fail to realize how many families they have shattered, how many childhood memories they've tossed into oblivion, how many people they've robbed of their homes. The number is exactly 3,000. That's 3,000 Angalesh who have lost all that is meaningful to them. I am one of those 3,000, the remnants of our once great civilization.
It all happened so fast; one moment we recieved the message, and the next thing we knew, the Devastator was bearing down on us. Sigma was blotted out by the massive ship, and night fell hours early. We barely had time to evacuate before its weapons fried off the atmosphere and tore enormous rifts where our cities used to be. At the time, I felt that the world was ending and shoved my way into the transport. I was right. By the time we had entered orbit, what was once my home was now a cracked shell of a world, barren and lifeless...
The years since haven't been easy, both on my body and mind. I lost contact with the others long ago, and now study the cultures of the empire that destroyed my world. Sometimes I venture outside the bounds of their control to see life free of opression, but I keep comming back, searching for the answer to the one question that still haunts me; Why? Why would any species be so afraid of the unknown as to eliminate it through force than through knowlage? I have yet to find the reason, if there is any. Although I must stay in hiding, obscuring my past, sidestepping questions with practiced ease, I sometimes find an enlightened being who thinks for itself and refuses to simply accept something as fact if their leaders say it is so. I find comfort in these beings, as they are the only friends I have these days.
I am Iniros Olus, and this is my story...
Homestar: Sigma
Homestar Type: Orange
Distance from the Homestar: 0.17 AU
Planet: Angal
Revolution around the Homestar: 96 rotations
Planet Rotation: 9 Earth-hours per day
Number of Moons: 1, Lost Hope (Artificial)
Gravity: 1.69 G
Axis Tilt: 1.5 Degrees
Temperature: Comfortable
Atmosphere: 1.61 atm (O2 45%,CO2 20%,N2 17%,CO 4%)
Volcanic Activity: Moderate
% Ocean Coverage: 32.03%
______________________________
Angal was a beautiful world filled with a peace-loving race untill recently. The AES Devastator, the Areli's superweapon, transmitted a simple message to the Angalesh; "Die". No chance of surrender, just death as their only option. Needless to say, the natives panicked. They had made contact with the Empire only days before and now had imminent destruction looming over their heads. Only 3,000 excaped, and when the fleet left the ravaged world, they set adrift a monument to their loved ones, a spaceborne cemetary identified only as Lost Hope...
Angalesh: Although a race of shapeshifters, the Angalesh haven't once thought of infiltration, undermining governments, or other such disruptive actions. To them, it is a waste of time that could be better spent learning or experiencing new things. But above all, family, and by extention the name, are the most important things in their lives. When one takes on several different forms, sticking to one's name is the only means of sure identification.
After the destruction of Angal, the survivors quietly and descretely inserted themselves into the surrounding cultures. However, once there was a slight chance of being found out, they pulled out and left as quickly as they had entered. This led to the seperation of the group, and although they may end up sitting not three feet from each other, there is no way to safely tell who is who, as many have changed their names to better blend with the natives.
Their ability works as follows: Their bloodstream is flooded with an extra enzyme that, when triggered by the nervous system, activates certain organells (little thingies inside cells) in the cells. Those begin re-writing their DNA and cause the cells to multiply amazingly fast, while unneeded cells are absorbed and used to help fuel the process. This allows them to morph into pretty much anything multi-cellular with DNA.
There are a few limits, though. They can't re-write the genes that allow them to shift in the first place. Things that require a complete re-haul of the genetic code (plants, for example) often leave them exhausted for hours. Several shifts in a row does the same thing. They are unable to morph while asleep or unconcious. The only exception are a few reflexive shifts (Forming gills when under water, forming armor plating when a large or fast-moving object comes towards them, like fliching) Finally, it can be disabled or controlled by an outside force, I'm not telling you how though... :wink:
______________________________
From the Journal of Iniros Olus:
Some people think that an enraged warrior behind the turret of a superweapon is the most destructive force in the Galaxy. Others belive a calm one would be more deadly. In truth, a xenophobic mind controling that much power can destroy any planet, exterminate any race, and break any bonds you once held dear. What sets it apart is the fact that in the end, it will all be justified through some propaganda, some steriotype, or some boldfaced lie that is believed because of popular opinion. And while they are rejoicing the elimination of the "Shifter Threat" as they call it, they fail to realize how many families they have shattered, how many childhood memories they've tossed into oblivion, how many people they've robbed of their homes. The number is exactly 3,000. That's 3,000 Angalesh who have lost all that is meaningful to them. I am one of those 3,000, the remnants of our once great civilization.
It all happened so fast; one moment we recieved the message, and the next thing we knew, the Devastator was bearing down on us. Sigma was blotted out by the massive ship, and night fell hours early. We barely had time to evacuate before its weapons fried off the atmosphere and tore enormous rifts where our cities used to be. At the time, I felt that the world was ending and shoved my way into the transport. I was right. By the time we had entered orbit, what was once my home was now a cracked shell of a world, barren and lifeless...
The years since haven't been easy, both on my body and mind. I lost contact with the others long ago, and now study the cultures of the empire that destroyed my world. Sometimes I venture outside the bounds of their control to see life free of opression, but I keep comming back, searching for the answer to the one question that still haunts me; Why? Why would any species be so afraid of the unknown as to eliminate it through force than through knowlage? I have yet to find the reason, if there is any. Although I must stay in hiding, obscuring my past, sidestepping questions with practiced ease, I sometimes find an enlightened being who thinks for itself and refuses to simply accept something as fact if their leaders say it is so. I find comfort in these beings, as they are the only friends I have these days.
I am Iniros Olus, and this is my story...
