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dens_tf_den2014-10-03 03:35 pm
random_notes_den) wrote in dens_tf_den2014-10-03 03:35 pm
Entry tags:
tp Races: Kraken
Kraken are massive cephalopods who live in a huge gas giant. Toxic industrial waste has been dumped on this planet for several centuries. This has served to improve the environment for all native life forms. The planet looks like a flaming toxic hell to outsiders, but to its sentient inhabitants, it's home sweet home. The kraken are as toxic as their world, but they're also the guys to go to for the best raw metals and plastics and such (mining, smelting, and refining is the limit of their industry, other than a few weapons for hunting, and some recreational explosives). They take the stuff the little sprites leave, and they make incredible insulation material with it. They have the hearts of drunken Quadriates, and to them life and their world is one big party.
Kraken arms have vicious suckers. Beaks have three mandibles. Kraken "ink" is a cloud of glowing toxins, and there are luminescent patterns on their torpedoes (which is how they tell each other apart). Kraken are screaming neon colours, but not always the same one or the same pattern, because colour is how they express emotion. Males tend to be more muted in coloration, which makes them stand out more in their environment, but they're just as rowdy as the women. They like playing with explosive toys, and tiny ones are sold for babies. Kraken work hard and play rough. But anything smaller than newly laid egg sacks makes them go 'eeek' and fret with careful concern, especially since they know they might poison other races with a touch if they're not careful. Infant Kraken still developing in their egg sacs are the size of a full grown adult giant squid from Earth (about 43 ft and 606lb). Adults continue to grow throughout their lifespans, and can live up to two hundred standard years. Egg sacks are guarded fiercely. Babies stay with their mother until they're about half her size, then they're on their own for protection and meals. The youngest babies get fed from a secretion that their mothers produce until their beaks start to harden. Guys kind of wander in and out of various 'cities', so there's a lot of genetic diversity. Girls from different families tend to come together to form 'houses' that help each other with work, fun, hunting, and child rearing. Men also group together, and live in massive submarines called "Party Buses". This is also their term for spaceships. The term the men use for travelling is "Checking on all my babies!" These male communities haul supplies between cities and haul finished product to the spaceport (or "Harbour"). Cities are scattered pretty evenly over the planet, and consist of massive rafts that float at a certain level in the matter of the planet, and which have sides similar to the city walls on old Earth cities. These barriers are necessary because there are many life forms of the deeps which are fully willing and capable of eating an adult Kraken for a nice light lunch, besides those smaller predators which might endanger babies and youngsters. Kraken go for a meal every few days, which involves getting your peeps all together and chasing it down, beating it into submission and poisoning it. Houses in the cities are just big metal rings that ladies and their kids can clip their harnesses to so they don't float off while they sleep. Refineries have no roofs.
They pass stories down from generation to generation, so a Drach or other long-lived Den Ya might visit one time, come back in a few generations, and find they're still being gossiped about.
Fighting within the species is confined to slap fights between same gender participants. The guys'll smack each other around for laughs, and the girls'll do the same. Slap fight are a popular way to see who gets first dibs at favourite weapons for lunch time. Freshly refined metal pole are often tested by whacking a friend on the torpedo, and then they 'sword fight' with 'em until the Forgemaster tells them to quit trying to poke each others' eyes out again. They have internal shells inside their torpedoes, and this part of the body hasn't many pain sensors, so the shell area is a favourite target for metal tests. Drumming with the arms is also a way for the men to show off for the women. A man drumming on a protesting friend is a common sight in the courtyards of the refineries when the women get off shift. They're really good about keeping on top of safety measures, so it's strings of centuries between job site injuries or accidents. They have 'round the clock shifts at the refineries, but day/evening shifts at the spaceport, so the roar and blast of work is always offset by the constant bellowing, drumming, and explosions of play, though they have strictly observed "No weapons allowed in the bar" rules, and they never drink till the work shift's over. Eruptions from the surface of the planet sometimes look like solar flares, and some of these eruptions are actually Kraken having leaping competitions. They use jet propulsion to move around. Some cheat and use gadgets, but most choose to go about their world under their own power when they're not on a bus. The gadget users are the few nerdy ones.
Some lunch runs involve battles down where the pressure is crazy and there is no sign of light except that which comes from the bodies of the Kraken and creatures. Meals are eaten fresh and dead. No other prep, though they bring them home before eating. Older kids who haven't mastered hunting hurry over from all around and beg for some.
Language amongst themselves is sign language and shrill sounds. For talking to offworlders, they've got electronic gizmos to translate, which makes them sound similar to Daleks. Clothing consist of leather like harnesses with attached chains. These harnesses go on the band between the torpedo and the arms, well below the eyes, but above the arms.
Babies are born with anywhere from 2-8 in a cluster, and 2-3 clusters of egg sacks in one clutch. It takes them 50-60 standard years to become big kids and everyone's business. About 85% of them live that long. Some get sick and never recover, some get separated from their moms, some are stillborn, and some do fall prey to other critters. And a few insist on trying to play with the big toys and don't survive. Women tend to have children on average every 50-60 years. Maternity leave is usually about 25 years. Babies are fitted for very lightweight harnesses and put on long leashes so they can explore without having to worry about losing Mama. The group with the highest mortality rate is the older children: dumb stunts, nosiness, and overestimating themselves all take a toll. Babies love dads. They hit them with their little toy explosives, and the dads are incredibly gentle with the babies, even the ones that aren't theirs. They coach them on the best use of booms, and tell them about the day they'll be making flares into space. Mothers take their babies with them everywhere inside the city. There are special "bars" for mothers with babies, where small jellyfish type creatures swim around and are easy for the youngest babies to catch and eat. These places also sell food for older babies which has been shipped in by party bus, though babies of all ages stuff themselves on the jellyfish (which will regenerate from even tiny leftover scraps).
The best thing ever to the babies is the day Mama takes them to the space port. Bringing their babies to the space port to look at it is usually the only time that women ride in a party bus. They usually ride in the bus of the man who is father of their babies.
Forgemaster the title for old women in charge of a refinery. Quartermaster is the title for an old man in charge of a party bus. Most Forgemasters and Quartermasters retire near the end of their lives, but a few will retire early to replace a bartender
Bars are one of the few enclosed buildings, and are nearly as big as the refineries. There are two bartenders at each, always former Forgemasters and Quartermasters. One will work from the ceiling, and the other from the floor. If someone drinks enough to pass out, the people just arriving will more than happily help cart them off to a hotel, pay for a clip, and get them situated so they can sober up. And then check on them periodically to make sure they're okay, after writing on them (Writing is only done on one another. Writing is about the only ornament worn, and can be anything from insults to jokes to memos to self). Having a good relationship with your boss is helping him or her to a hotel to sober up once in awhile. And the occasional late for work due to being passed out is overlooked. Kraken naturally absorb and nullify radiation. Radioactive sludge=a very drunk Kraken.
Most computers are used to help tally materials.
At each Den-Ya space port there is an old Kraken called the Harbourmaster
Years and years, and YEARS ago, every family on the Kraken homeworld donated a baby, and those babies were taken to the Drach homeworld and raised in the oceans there. Now, so many many years later, their descendants are smaller and not so brightly coloured as their cousins back on the old world, but they're also not toxic except in their ink. The men man the ships that go back to the old world to pick up and drop off supplies, and the women farm in and care for the oceans of the Drach world. The Drachkraken are the major space faring merchant race, and their space ships are also called party buses. Drachkraken are weaker, and don't live as long as homeworlders, though they are still big strong, happy people. They're less likely to die from reactions to their environment, and they're the apex predator in the Drachworld seas. They even have less babies. They've borrowed Drach custom, and marry. But a bus man might have a wife in more than one port, if the world can support lady Drachkraken. Pirates in Den-Ya space usually go for space stations rather than ships, because they know they're no match for Drachkraken ship crews.
All Kraken can survive quite happily out of water, if they have a thing to add the gasses they need to what they're breathing. Older Drachkraken who are land diving use a little flat thing with wheels to park on and push themselves around on, but the younger ones get a laugh out of being creepy crawly and slithering along under their own power.
"You slimed the pavement."
"I know. Try skating on it."
Some of the smallest are strong enough to walk along on their "tippytoes" in order to make the normal size ones grumble.
Kraken arms have vicious suckers. Beaks have three mandibles. Kraken "ink" is a cloud of glowing toxins, and there are luminescent patterns on their torpedoes (which is how they tell each other apart). Kraken are screaming neon colours, but not always the same one or the same pattern, because colour is how they express emotion. Males tend to be more muted in coloration, which makes them stand out more in their environment, but they're just as rowdy as the women. They like playing with explosive toys, and tiny ones are sold for babies. Kraken work hard and play rough. But anything smaller than newly laid egg sacks makes them go 'eeek' and fret with careful concern, especially since they know they might poison other races with a touch if they're not careful. Infant Kraken still developing in their egg sacs are the size of a full grown adult giant squid from Earth (about 43 ft and 606lb). Adults continue to grow throughout their lifespans, and can live up to two hundred standard years. Egg sacks are guarded fiercely. Babies stay with their mother until they're about half her size, then they're on their own for protection and meals. The youngest babies get fed from a secretion that their mothers produce until their beaks start to harden. Guys kind of wander in and out of various 'cities', so there's a lot of genetic diversity. Girls from different families tend to come together to form 'houses' that help each other with work, fun, hunting, and child rearing. Men also group together, and live in massive submarines called "Party Buses". This is also their term for spaceships. The term the men use for travelling is "Checking on all my babies!" These male communities haul supplies between cities and haul finished product to the spaceport (or "Harbour"). Cities are scattered pretty evenly over the planet, and consist of massive rafts that float at a certain level in the matter of the planet, and which have sides similar to the city walls on old Earth cities. These barriers are necessary because there are many life forms of the deeps which are fully willing and capable of eating an adult Kraken for a nice light lunch, besides those smaller predators which might endanger babies and youngsters. Kraken go for a meal every few days, which involves getting your peeps all together and chasing it down, beating it into submission and poisoning it. Houses in the cities are just big metal rings that ladies and their kids can clip their harnesses to so they don't float off while they sleep. Refineries have no roofs.
They pass stories down from generation to generation, so a Drach or other long-lived Den Ya might visit one time, come back in a few generations, and find they're still being gossiped about.
Fighting within the species is confined to slap fights between same gender participants. The guys'll smack each other around for laughs, and the girls'll do the same. Slap fight are a popular way to see who gets first dibs at favourite weapons for lunch time. Freshly refined metal pole are often tested by whacking a friend on the torpedo, and then they 'sword fight' with 'em until the Forgemaster tells them to quit trying to poke each others' eyes out again. They have internal shells inside their torpedoes, and this part of the body hasn't many pain sensors, so the shell area is a favourite target for metal tests. Drumming with the arms is also a way for the men to show off for the women. A man drumming on a protesting friend is a common sight in the courtyards of the refineries when the women get off shift. They're really good about keeping on top of safety measures, so it's strings of centuries between job site injuries or accidents. They have 'round the clock shifts at the refineries, but day/evening shifts at the spaceport, so the roar and blast of work is always offset by the constant bellowing, drumming, and explosions of play, though they have strictly observed "No weapons allowed in the bar" rules, and they never drink till the work shift's over. Eruptions from the surface of the planet sometimes look like solar flares, and some of these eruptions are actually Kraken having leaping competitions. They use jet propulsion to move around. Some cheat and use gadgets, but most choose to go about their world under their own power when they're not on a bus. The gadget users are the few nerdy ones.
Some lunch runs involve battles down where the pressure is crazy and there is no sign of light except that which comes from the bodies of the Kraken and creatures. Meals are eaten fresh and dead. No other prep, though they bring them home before eating. Older kids who haven't mastered hunting hurry over from all around and beg for some.
Language amongst themselves is sign language and shrill sounds. For talking to offworlders, they've got electronic gizmos to translate, which makes them sound similar to Daleks. Clothing consist of leather like harnesses with attached chains. These harnesses go on the band between the torpedo and the arms, well below the eyes, but above the arms.
Babies are born with anywhere from 2-8 in a cluster, and 2-3 clusters of egg sacks in one clutch. It takes them 50-60 standard years to become big kids and everyone's business. About 85% of them live that long. Some get sick and never recover, some get separated from their moms, some are stillborn, and some do fall prey to other critters. And a few insist on trying to play with the big toys and don't survive. Women tend to have children on average every 50-60 years. Maternity leave is usually about 25 years. Babies are fitted for very lightweight harnesses and put on long leashes so they can explore without having to worry about losing Mama. The group with the highest mortality rate is the older children: dumb stunts, nosiness, and overestimating themselves all take a toll. Babies love dads. They hit them with their little toy explosives, and the dads are incredibly gentle with the babies, even the ones that aren't theirs. They coach them on the best use of booms, and tell them about the day they'll be making flares into space. Mothers take their babies with them everywhere inside the city. There are special "bars" for mothers with babies, where small jellyfish type creatures swim around and are easy for the youngest babies to catch and eat. These places also sell food for older babies which has been shipped in by party bus, though babies of all ages stuff themselves on the jellyfish (which will regenerate from even tiny leftover scraps).
The best thing ever to the babies is the day Mama takes them to the space port. Bringing their babies to the space port to look at it is usually the only time that women ride in a party bus. They usually ride in the bus of the man who is father of their babies.
Forgemaster the title for old women in charge of a refinery. Quartermaster is the title for an old man in charge of a party bus. Most Forgemasters and Quartermasters retire near the end of their lives, but a few will retire early to replace a bartender
Bars are one of the few enclosed buildings, and are nearly as big as the refineries. There are two bartenders at each, always former Forgemasters and Quartermasters. One will work from the ceiling, and the other from the floor. If someone drinks enough to pass out, the people just arriving will more than happily help cart them off to a hotel, pay for a clip, and get them situated so they can sober up. And then check on them periodically to make sure they're okay, after writing on them (Writing is only done on one another. Writing is about the only ornament worn, and can be anything from insults to jokes to memos to self). Having a good relationship with your boss is helping him or her to a hotel to sober up once in awhile. And the occasional late for work due to being passed out is overlooked. Kraken naturally absorb and nullify radiation. Radioactive sludge=a very drunk Kraken.
Most computers are used to help tally materials.
At each Den-Ya space port there is an old Kraken called the Harbourmaster
Years and years, and YEARS ago, every family on the Kraken homeworld donated a baby, and those babies were taken to the Drach homeworld and raised in the oceans there. Now, so many many years later, their descendants are smaller and not so brightly coloured as their cousins back on the old world, but they're also not toxic except in their ink. The men man the ships that go back to the old world to pick up and drop off supplies, and the women farm in and care for the oceans of the Drach world. The Drachkraken are the major space faring merchant race, and their space ships are also called party buses. Drachkraken are weaker, and don't live as long as homeworlders, though they are still big strong, happy people. They're less likely to die from reactions to their environment, and they're the apex predator in the Drachworld seas. They even have less babies. They've borrowed Drach custom, and marry. But a bus man might have a wife in more than one port, if the world can support lady Drachkraken. Pirates in Den-Ya space usually go for space stations rather than ships, because they know they're no match for Drachkraken ship crews.
All Kraken can survive quite happily out of water, if they have a thing to add the gasses they need to what they're breathing. Older Drachkraken who are land diving use a little flat thing with wheels to park on and push themselves around on, but the younger ones get a laugh out of being creepy crawly and slithering along under their own power.
"You slimed the pavement."
"I know. Try skating on it."
Some of the smallest are strong enough to walk along on their "tippytoes" in order to make the normal size ones grumble.