BlightGiver
Professional Brick Thrower
So, I've been thinking of creating a roleplay based on the yet to be released survival horror game, Scorn. Based in the macabre, organic covered world we've seen only glimpses of, characters will be going through. Uncovering secrets and monstrosities, everyone will understand what it means to be scared. Since the game is not yet released, and very little story information has become known, there will be multitudes of creative liberties taken with the story and setting. As an additional note, there will be no characters who are human; there will be humanoids, but no humans. This also means there will be no knowledge of Earth or anything from human society. The Scorn world functions vastly differently than ours, and hosts people and biological processes similar and very different, so expect weird stuff to happen.
In this inspired offshoot, the "machinery" has become too distilled from it's intended purpose. Built with artificial components for just structural support, the organic components of it all is what controls and moves the tools, vehicles, and devices of the factory. Pulsing and twitching with life and metabolism, the cyborg factory builds people to inhabit the world so that they may keep everything in tip top shape. Everything functioned smoothly, with hundreds of new people grown every day of the year. However, this is a picture of the past. Whoever were responsible for the origin of the factory are gone; people stopped being produced and practically died out. Is this the epitome of a bad day? Possibly; although, it'd be more fair for this to be equated to just a terrible morning.
Left unchecked, the metabolisms of the cyborg machinery continues to grow and grow. Spreading like vines, fleshy tendrils and pulsing growths began sprouting anywhere that it could. The atmosphere grows noxious with the waste byproduct of the living systems; constricting flesh breaks down existing structures, marking the end of the civilization. Yet, despite growing out of control, the machinery still upholds some of it's original purpose. New structures being built, albeit entirely flesh and blood, display new corridors, lighting systems and defense units. Even the creation of brand new people restarts.
Overly engorged, extra limbs, decaying flesh, melting nervous systems; the new people are exactly like they used to be! That's a lie; at this rate, the world is going to be inhabited by mindless monstrosities. The machinery was just taking random guesses as to how people are supposed to look; some get closer than others, but they're not what they should be. The repetition goes on for too long, that some of the produced creatures actually reach the ends of their lifespans. Dying where they stand, their bodies break down to connect back with the rest of the machinery. Memories and visions transfer all over, making connections form and ultimately cerebral nerves. Intelligence has come back to the world, and without people necessary for it. If any were to show up on the factory's doorstep, it'd have no problem taking them out. All that matters is spreading and learning; other sentients would just get in the way.
It's a shame that on the day the factory decides this, a long forgotten storage finally decays enough to the point its lock open, releasing "dangerous" people from their stasis.
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In this inspired offshoot, the "machinery" has become too distilled from it's intended purpose. Built with artificial components for just structural support, the organic components of it all is what controls and moves the tools, vehicles, and devices of the factory. Pulsing and twitching with life and metabolism, the cyborg factory builds people to inhabit the world so that they may keep everything in tip top shape. Everything functioned smoothly, with hundreds of new people grown every day of the year. However, this is a picture of the past. Whoever were responsible for the origin of the factory are gone; people stopped being produced and practically died out. Is this the epitome of a bad day? Possibly; although, it'd be more fair for this to be equated to just a terrible morning.
Left unchecked, the metabolisms of the cyborg machinery continues to grow and grow. Spreading like vines, fleshy tendrils and pulsing growths began sprouting anywhere that it could. The atmosphere grows noxious with the waste byproduct of the living systems; constricting flesh breaks down existing structures, marking the end of the civilization. Yet, despite growing out of control, the machinery still upholds some of it's original purpose. New structures being built, albeit entirely flesh and blood, display new corridors, lighting systems and defense units. Even the creation of brand new people restarts.
Overly engorged, extra limbs, decaying flesh, melting nervous systems; the new people are exactly like they used to be! That's a lie; at this rate, the world is going to be inhabited by mindless monstrosities. The machinery was just taking random guesses as to how people are supposed to look; some get closer than others, but they're not what they should be. The repetition goes on for too long, that some of the produced creatures actually reach the ends of their lifespans. Dying where they stand, their bodies break down to connect back with the rest of the machinery. Memories and visions transfer all over, making connections form and ultimately cerebral nerves. Intelligence has come back to the world, and without people necessary for it. If any were to show up on the factory's doorstep, it'd have no problem taking them out. All that matters is spreading and learning; other sentients would just get in the way.
It's a shame that on the day the factory decides this, a long forgotten storage finally decays enough to the point its lock open, releasing "dangerous" people from their stasis.
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