HugoLuman

I wanted to resurrect this since there's stuff in the code to support this now Personally, I'd rather that the Fire Cult not just be a reskin of Nar'Sie

Ah, but we do have a framework for giving species their own procs for things, like the handle_life, handle_death, and handle_breathe

I've had more thoughts on how the roundtype might work: Victory Conditions: YIN MAJOR VICTORY if they have certain structures built and fully operational on the station z level, and possibly a certain number of slaves/resources, and possibly if they have destroyed/subverted/banished the AI CREW MAJOR VICTORY if the Yin Controller pod is destroyed or if all Yin are killed/incapacitated YIN MINOR VICTORY if the crew escapes, abandoning the station to the Yin but denying full optimization of available resources from slaves No one wins the the station is destroyed Dynamics: The yin will need to build up resources, most likely by cannibalizing the station and/or hijacking mining. They can gain benefits by building certain structures, possibly giving them a research dynamic similar to Science or Cult (in the context of doing certain processes to acquire new capabilities). These could be new equipment for Yinfiltraters/Yinslaved (humanoids), upgrades to the base capabilities of the various shells, or other buffs. There could be a balance between producing expensive Invader shells and not having as much tech to fall into station hands or producing small arms for the humanoids but creating more samples for the crew to steal. The crew may be able to create new countermeasures by acquiring samples of Yin tech and researching them, most likely taking the form of defenses, gaining access to Yin comms, and ways to help the yinslaved.

We kind have this already with space vines

(Note: New Vulp lore says that they developed a purely vocal form of their language (though they still prefer to use the full form) when their civilization discovered telecommunications) I think we could do something cool with a simple cross-reference list in the language code of which species can learn to understand each language and which could learn to speak it. We could probably also do something where someone can gain a limited understanding of a language (getting accented somehow and seeing omissions when others speak it) from shorter sessions with a language book, and then gaining full understanding with repeated sessions throughout the shift

Since it's the least likely thing raise balace concerns, I'm going to start working on the emotes idea

I have officially begun work on these again. After updating the code to match the present codebase, I've noted three issues to work on: Runtimes when switching perspective between worm and humanoid Surgically inserting the yin back into a humanoid shell still does not work Icons for non-humanoid yin shells do not update correctly https://github.com/HugoLuman/Paradise/tree/YinNew

Well the idea here is to come up with ways to diversify species through their reactions to alcohol. The other ideas are fine but they should probably go elsewhere. (We need ideas for both differences when people are merely buzzed and for when they are suffering from alcohol poisoning.) The idea with the Kidan bit up there is that they'd get seizures instead of throwing up when severely drunk. So, not necessarily increasing their damage or stuns, just changing the symptoms of something that already stuns/hurts them Another idea I had was that one species might start suffocating when suffering alcohol poisoning, rather than throwing up or taking brain/toxin damage. I'm not sure what species that would be appropriate for. Racially-specific random drunk emotes could be good

Well, not debuffs necessarily, more changing the kind of bad that each race experiences when they drink too much alcohol. Codewise, I think everything to do with being drunk is currently handled within the reagent code for alcohol and the organ code for people's livers. Possible a couple things in on_life, but I'm not sure.

The ideas you present could already be covered by admins using announcements, such as the round-specific messages for when people open the client or for general OOC channel shouts and such. Thus, we could already experiment with this without having to make any changes to the code. I think that this could be even more interesting if we were able to use such rounds as opportunities for people to preview races they might not have the karma to afford yet. That'd solve the problem of people needing multiple karma unlocks simply to participate in such events.

The biggest obstacle I think would be objections to "snowflaking" as this would probably involve adding species checks into alcohol, or a refactor of species processing code

Though to try this out, it could be done as a sequence of adminbusses, no need to code anything for it just yet. If there was something coded for it, perhaps as an added incentive, the race would become unlocked for all during the round? Could give people a chance to demo things that are hard to unlock such as Vox or Plasmamen. However, having peeked beyond the veil at karma shop code during the Drask PR, that'd probably be a bit of a headache involving changing the database...

It occurred to me that a readily visible mechanical difference which could support RP would be to give different species different reactions to alcohol. Not merely different tolerances, but different symptoms to reflect their alien physiologies. These could range from being differently buzzed to suffering differently from acute alcohol poisoning. Some potential examples: * Slime people becoming flammable if they accumulate too much alcohol in their cytoplasm, and so needing some time to get it out of their system before regaining their usual sogginess * Kidan suffering from seizures due to alcohol affecting their nervous systems / interfering with their hydraulic muscles by dilating their blood vessels. * Skrell taking minor burn damage from strong beverages, or becoming slurred when any amount of alcohol enters their systems * Grey broadcasting random inane thoughts into the brains of nearby crew members when sloshed.

The feature freeze is over, I will begin working on this again sometime this month

Son walked down the winding passage, the glint of innumerable tiny eyes greeting the light of his monitor. He could see some of them raising their feelers as he passed, as if anticipating his question. "Has the shuttle come yet?" The tiny bodies making up the tunnel began to vibrate in unison. "I'm sorry, I have not seen it yet. Can you hold on a while longer?" "Yes," he said, flicking a few emoticons across his screen. He could feel a slight malfunction in the display, though perhaps he could fix it when he got back. "What do you wish to do when you leave?" "Same answer as always: acquire a chassis with a sense of touch. If I can afford it." "Well, I hope you will," answered the tunnel, concluding the ritual. Son looked down at his arm, but seeing no more room for marks, he stopped. "Mother?" "Yes? You have not spoken after concluding this pattern thus far, I wonder what has changed?" "I think I might be getting older," he said, "and I wonder, am I the same as them?" "As your coworkers? The ones you call organics?" A checkmark appeared on his screen. "Yes. And I suppose I should ask if they are the same, too. I've been used to thinking of them as organics, but they are different species after all. But you've spoken to all of us, and your perspective might be so much larger as to be equidistant from all of ours." He changed his display to a question mark. "So, then. Would you say that a human, a skrell, and a vulpkanin are the same? And would you say I am the same as them?" There was a slight rumbling, a tremor as all the tiny bodies shifted slightly in thoughtful motion. "I am not able to interface with your body as I did with theirs," said Mother, feelers raising from the floor and brushing Son's metal ankles. "And so I cannot say for sure between you and organics. I found many similar things in their thoughts, though. I recognized the same needs. And I think you, I, and they share many of them. This 'older,' though, is strange to me, but not to you. But 'alone,' that is something we all understand." Son started walking again, but flashed his question mark brighter a few times. "How can you feel alone? Aren't you a collective?" The tunnel squirmed. "All these bodies are a part of me, and I have diffused into each of them. They are to me as cells are to your coworkers." Son saw one glinting eye wriggle, and a tiny body work itself free from the ceiling. It dropped onto his shoulders, and its tiny voice chirruped "And each of them understood loneliness before they joined me. It is natural for nymphs to want to be together." It dropped to the floor, and scurried back to the space it had left above. "And it is not only a memory from my nymphs," said Mother's united voice again. "That's why I thank you for this conversation. I only wish you and the others would speak with me as often as you did when you first arrived." "I see," Son said, reaching the familiar turn. The base was near now. "And I do apologize. I've been rather absorbed in my work. But how did you cope before the Skrell found you?" For a minute, the walls were totally still, and Son walked along in silence. "It is... sad for us to think about." "Sad? Why? Was the loneliness overwhelming?" "We... the other great ones of my kind and I... would rather enjoy the present..." Symbols were swarming across Son's face now. "You've piqued my curiosity. Come on, it would be something to talk about." "Well... there were more like you who we met before. They talked with us, and helped us spread our seeds. But after a time they left us. They came and went as you do now, but eventually my star had completed one circle of the Galaxy and they still had not returned. All I had seen was at a distance, a darkness that swept across the stars and then faded away. And so all we could only wait and wonder as the Galaxy turned again and again. We still miss them." At last, turning the final corner, Son spotted the airlock, smooth metal enmeshed in the cobbled mass of green. "Fascinating. I shall have to inquire more when I've finished with my work." "I'll let you get to it. But perhaps you should wait for another few patterns. It still saddens me to speak, and I know you and yours do not remember our other friends." "Very well. I'll wait to ask. If the shuttle doesn't come before then." Son thought back to what the human, Martin, had said. About getting too sad to keep talking about back home. Replaying that scene in his mind, he pressed the access and the airlock slid open. All was as Son had left it within. The two autolathes, with all the parts for a third in the output bin of one, now working on parts for all the other machines in their little base. And Echtern still seated at the lounge table in his helmetless pressure suit, a deck of cards laid out before him. "Hello Echtern," Son said to the Vulpkanin, and received no response. Another ritual completed. Emptying his satchel into the ore machine, Son took a seat in the corner, not wishing to disturb Echtern's solitaire. With any luck he could make some new optics with today's haul. A thought occurred, and he turned to his workbench to gather the robotic limbs he'd been tinkering with. At least he'd gotten the limb part right, but he still could not figure out how to create the sensation of touch. Was it just a lack of materials and equipment? Or did he just need more time? Time... Son dumped the tinkerings into the recycler. Could he replicate his internal components well enough with this equipment? He gingerly picked up the screwdriver from the table, and inspected it. Amazing how durable it was, after all those tally marks Echtern and Martin had carved with it. All over the walls, the front door, even Martin's sealed locker in the closet. Son began to unscrew his face frame, but stopped. That malfunction... The airlock was still open, and so he called towards it. "Mother?" "Yes?" "How many times have I completed that pattern with you?" "In your reckoning..." Rustling came from outside. "One hundred and eighty-two thousand, five hundred times." "Thank you." So, his internal chronometer was still working fine, at least... "Of course, Son. I wonder, since you are being more talkative recently, do you think the others will also talk to me again soon?" He looked over at Echtern. That number divided by three-hundred and sixty-five perfectly. No wonder he thought today was something special... Echtern, though his eyes were empty, still kept his coat of fur, clinging to his desiccated skin. Yes, it divided to five hundred exactly. "No, I don't think they will. Sorry." "Oh. Do you think they will when the shuttle comes?" Mother could not see him here, but he shrugged and displayed an emoticon. "Who can say..."

Name: Maggy Shrisa Age: 23 Gender: F Race: Human Blood Type: A+ General Occupational Role(s): Mechanic, Engineer, Roboticist Biography: Born May 3rd, 2537 on Tulsa, one of the "hollow-rock" colonies in Sol's Asteroid Belt, Maggy was raised as a ward of the state. As per local adoption and surrender statutes, records of her birth parents are unavailable. She attended school at the local SolGov Primary and Secondary institutions, during which time she and her friends were arrested multiple times for tampering with and attempted theft of private space pods. At 18 years of age, after finishing public school, Maggy successfully enrolled in the University of Enceladus and consequently moved to the Saturn planetary system. Aside from a few citations for controlled substances, the disruptive behavior of her early youth was largely curtailed during this time. However, while testing a modified spacepod frame, she suffered an accident relating to unexpected engine activation, and consequently lost her right arm and left leg. After 4 years of study, she achieved degrees in both Mechanical Engineering and Ethnography (due to UoE's double major program). Following this, Maggy Shrisa enrolled in NanoTrasen's work study program, moving to Epsilon Eridani to serve on the NSS Cyberiad while she works on her post-graduate thesis. [Clearance: Security] Maggy Shrisa owes a considerable student debt to the Saturnian Education Foundation, and is known to seek shortcuts to settling it sooner. This makes her an increased risk due to potential for bribery. Qualifications: 4-year Mechanical Engineering degree from the University of Enceladus Passed company Engineering and Robotics exams and received certification 1 year of on the job experience Employment Records: NSS Cyberiad: 1 year of alternating Spacepod Mechanic and Station Engineering duties. Has shown exemplary work, as far as noted by supervisors. Security Records: Multiple citations for attempted sale of controlled substances during work hours. Potential PUI incident resulting in collision between her spacepod and the cargo shuttle Medical Records: Wears a prosthetic arm and leg due to an accident suffered while at University Has been revived from certified death on one occasion, following a collision between her spacepod and the cargo shuttle. The CMO at the time deemed that cloning was not necessary. Personnel Photo (Appearance text): Standing at 5'11", Maggy Shrisa has tan skin and thick, curly light brown hair. Her face is round and often cheerful, though she gives the appearance of examining someone rather than listening to them. On the shoulder of her jacket she prominently displays a "UoE" patch. Commendations [only to be added by admin]: Reprimands [only to be added by admin]: Other Notes:

(To be finished later)

During its standard operation, a certain small corporate station was marked "potential situation" when it failed to reply. Shortly before its shift transition, the crew reported a strange transmission and, all signals ceasing repetition, CC decided that something had gone awry An ERT, code Amber, with a squad containing just five members was put together, dispatched, and ordered to report in when they arrived. Precisely two minutes later, receiving a ping from the team's locator, CC confirmed their arrival on the NSS Maldive. After reporting their position, the team began upon their mission, locating the senior comms technician, who seemed disoriented but alive. Assessing his condition, they then questioned the technician about the contents of the strange transmission. He replied, simply, "E Eight One Five" Following this information, the team then broke their formation, spreading out across the station to see who had survived. In their initial impression, they noted no signs of accident or aggression, aside from some atmospheric decompression along the starboard side. In the office of the Chaplain, Sgt. Ellen discovered the Captain, attention rapt in his laptop with glazed, unfocused eyes. When she asked him to recount completely the events of that week he only muttered, weakly, "E Eight One Five..." Finding the Bridge door sitting open, yet with no signs of being broken, Lt. Graves began the motion of scouring the room. His cursory glance showed all intact, the contingency folders still neatly stacked, and contact with the station's networks showing from banks of screens in the gloom. Lt. Graves informed his team, "I've got the Crew Monitor up on the screen," And from what could be seen, all personnel were still alive. And yet, though no one was dead, no names could be read, as all entries instead displayed "E-8-1-5" The crew was discovered, altogether, standing clustered, gathered in the bar, staring slack-jawed at the wall. Drinks sitting unattended on the table, and something strange upon their labels Sgt. Abel noticed, and on the sign out in the hall. In fact, on closer examination, every text on the station, bore a rather similar notation, the team soon realized. Signs, doors, posters, vendors, papers and their folders, Even the breakroom toaster were all similarly inscribed. The starboard master atmos gauge, the local newscaster homepage The HoP's recorded age, and the engine SMES of the Maldive Every value, every string, every single written thing now showed only "E-8-1-5"

Anja shivered in her parka, her breath visible in the dim glow of the space heater. Across from her, she could see Zareem wasn't doing much better, despite his fur. She pushed the packet out from inside her sleeve, and rattled the last cigarette inside, but Zareem shook his head, glancing over at the office door. It wasn't worth the lecture. She nodded slightly and pulled the little box back into its safe refuge. Then, at last, she spoke the thought she'd been chewing over for the past few minutes. "You ever wonder why you're here?" "Constantly," said the big Tajaran. "I think they thought I'd be at home here. Two colder planets. How different could they be? About as different as snow and dry ice..." He rubbed his nose with a mittened hand. He nearly glanced over at the room monitor, but then he remembered their rule about thermometers. "Well, it would have been cruel to send a Unathi." "Hmm. Cruel to send a Human, too. Who'd you piss off?" He was rubbing his face now, trying to get some feeling back. She laughed, in spite of her chattering teeth. "No one. I think. God, maybe... but also, not quite what I wanted to ask about. I mean, what are we doing here?" He stopped for a moment. "What?" She reaches over and turns up the heater by another couple degrees. Zareem glances towards the office again, but also looks relieved. Anja gestures around the dimly lit concrete room, to the company logo stenciled on the wall. "Not, like, here, but... Do you ever wonder why you're doing out here in the galaxy? Like, where your place in the Universe is?" Zareem wiped his nose again, now starting to run. "Have you been at the Drask mouthwash again?" "No no. I remember what they told us about vasodilators, don't worry. It's just... you know?" He sighed, shaking his head. "All I know is, I need the money." At that moment, the office door slid open, and a square of light appeared at head level, followed by a trio of purple eyes. "I hope to see you again soon," said DNU-464. The purple-eyed Drask hummed something and headed out the exit. As soon as it was gone, their boss's metal finger flew up to point at the space heater. "That output is two Kelvin too much. I have explained to you before that this threatens the comfort of the clients and the integrity of the substructure. Do not do it again." Zareem began to make a low noise, but Anja quickly spoke over it. "Yes, sorry! Erm. Does this mean that our shift is over?" DNU-464 showed a check mark on his screen. "You may return to the domiciles." Then, taking a moment to adjust his tie, the IPC stepped backwards into his office and closed the door again. Anja turned off the space heater and helped Zareem up. Then, retrieving their bags, they switched off the lights and exited out into the tunnel. Aside from the concrete of the wall behind them and the floor beneath, it was made of actual ice. The ubiquitous long, dim lightstrips ran along the ceiling, and extensive lines of angular Orluum script stretched along the other side of the tunnel. Presumably giving directions, but neither of them could read it. "How. How does he do it? It's not like the heater's connected to any kind of network." Zareem stretched, stiff from sitting in the cold. "Does he have a thermometer or something built in?" Anja shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe you could ask him about it." They both chuckled, imagining the consequences. "Thanks, by the way," said Zareem. "I'm not sure I would have kept-" "Don't worry about it." She removed the packet from her sleeve again, and held it out to him. He hesitated. Would that be owing too much? But she rattled it somewhat insistently, and he took the box, not wanting to remove his mittens just yet in order to fish the cigarette out. They walked in silence for a while, past the occasional three-eyed alien. The place never really seemed to sleep, but, fortunately, traffic always seemed light at this hour. At last they came to the junction, where the path went towards the metro system on the right, and the tram back towards their auxiliary warm quarters on the left. The tunnel here came just close enough to the topside that a window had been installed, looking out onto the planet's surface. Anja paused for a moment. Zareem, already starting towards the left, turned around. "Anja? What are you doing?" He paced in place, the cold already starting to catch up to him from ceased momentum. "Just give me a moment," she said, seemingly oblivious to the cold catching up to her as well. "I won't be far behind." Zareem was still paused for another second, but, the desire to get somewhere warm overtaking him, he nodded and set off towards the tram at a brisk pace, leaving Anja to stare out the window. She could see it, rising in the distance. The real Foreign Quarter. Like an enormous concrete termite mound, heated by volcanic spring water, its various spires capped with the important symbols. The Human-Skrellian Alliance embassy. The offices of Einstein Engines, BioTech Solutions, NanoTrasen. Three stations away on the metro. She found herself thinking back to what Zareem had said. What was she doing here?

And, conversely to the Vulps, to go along with the cold blooded metabolism, we could have Unathi need to eat less often than other races.

Here's some ideas I posted over on the Racial Differentiation thread (a thread which, now that I think about it, might make this thread a bit redundant): Going off the idea that vulpkanin might have a higher metabolism, and thus a higher food intake (a mechanic currently not used by any species, but easy to implement as nutrition loss is controlled by a single number*), Vulpkanin could be slightly more vulnerable to oxy or toxin damage, due to things getting processed faster in their body (bumping the relevant damage multiplier up to 1.05 or 1.1). They might also have a higher body temperature. *Diona and IPC already change this number from its default in their definition, but they don't gain nutrition by eating.

I for one think it'd be neat to incorporate human brains in robot bodies who are still humanoid crew. Though the power-gaming MMIs thing is a big deal. Though, I would like to address the use of the term "snowflaking." Things are bad "snowflake" code when they are implemented in a direct, hard-wired way rather than working organically with the rest of the code. Things like there being a flag for skin tone in species code (for lighter-darker gradation, as opposed to being able to paint a body every color of the rainbow), but it being written to only do anything for Humans (until recent Vox/Drask stuff reworked this). Or like certain outdated IPC-specific surgeries (taking out the battery and putting it back in) before CAN_REVIVE_THROUGH_HEALING was a thing, which are still in the code. However, there is some conflation when people talk about species features, where the need to avoid such sloppy code implementation gets confused with unique mechanics being bad, period. Chances are that there's a way to implement a given feature in a way that meets the standards of the code base, with varying degrees of difficulty. We should refer to the coding side of things when talking about "snowflakiness," rather than something merely being unique.

I don't think we should give medical supplies to the general population, that'd be a bit unfair to Med. However, I think it'd be fair to give IPC some emergency repair supplies, such as either an emergency welder or flare (short lasting and cannot be refueled) and 5 units of cable (too few to make cuffs). And charcoal for vox seems fair, getting poisoned by oxygen is the most likely atmos issue they'd have. The question, then, becomes if these people should have their epipens still for use on other crewmembers.

We could implement veeery minor resistances/vulnerabilities to certain damage types (In the code it's a multiplier defaulting to 1, so I'd change some by +/- .05 to .15). That's enough to be noticeable without severely balance altering. For example, if we went with Vulpkanin having a faster metabolism, it might make sense for them to take slightly more oxy or tox damage. Greys might take slightly more brain damage, due to their large and highly sensitive brains (or slightly less, if you argue that their highly evolved/engineered brains are more robust). I think Drask should be nauseated by vended hot food/drink, such as cocoa, coffee, or cup soup. We could argue that when they eat stuff cooked in the kitchen, they wait for it to cool down first but the vended stuff is sold in insulated containers. They were going to have some negative effects related to spending too much time in the room temperature preferred by most races on the station, requiring them to take breaks in colder areas, but this proved tricky to implement so I left it out of their PR We could have one race exhale N20 instead of CO2 as their waste gas. The scrubbers system would still be able to handle it easily, so it's not balance altering.

Personally I don't think we should be thinking about whether a trait for vulps is dog-like or not, but rather we should be thinking how they can be differentiated from existing species (namely, Humans and Tajara). A faster metabolism requiring more food would be a noticeable but not significantly balance-altering gameplay effect. And adverse reactions to chocolate or caffeine could be justified based on that. I think the complaint that started this thread comes from an apparent contradiction in the semantics. Basically, the objection probably comes from this: with differences getting de-emphasized in a design philosophy of putting game balance first, an objective inbalance being permitted seems like hypocrisy