Post by Insano-Man on Sept 19, 2018 7:58:46 GMT -5
This topic is a child of the Cult of Meat article directory.
IT GROWS
The Cult's many sects hold sway over countless towns and nomads. They provide for many settlements unable to fend for themselves. They graciously provide shelter and supplies to many travellers in need. There is no secret to the Cult's success; they are generous to all who welcome them and all who arrive without malice. They give and expect little in return but gratitude and respect. They offer up the boundless harvests of the meatscapes, even at cost to themselves, and offer protection that only a united faith of millions could provide.
In much the same stroke, the Cult's influence is as much an infection as it is a religion. Prolonged exposure to meatscape-affected tissue causes a gradual build-up of meatscape flesh on any potential host. Be it the skin of a living human or the shell of a robotic drone, there is nothing the meat cannot corrupt. The accumulated meatscape flesh steadily grows across the host until it fully envelops them. In the case of organic creatures, this is often by direct corruption of living tissue via viruses inserted by the infestation. For machines and inorganic life, the flesh simply grows around them until they can no longer function.
For organic creatures, the process of corruption is a slow, painful death as their body is steadily consumed and replaced by meatscape flesh. Without intervention, infection by the meat is unavoidably fatal. Those that succumb to the meat are reduced to shapeless mounds of congealed blood and contradictory muscles. For the few whose immune systems are strong enough to fight off the worst of the meat's attacks, a more viscous fate lies in store. Surviving a full-blown infestation leads to transformation into a meat monster, driven feral by raw pain and partial corruption of the brain. For the inorganic, death lies in slow, steady digestion as their parts are dissolved by a stomach grown around them.
Few have the power to reverse the spread of the meat. The Loonies have only a handful of bunkers with the medical facilities to combat the touch of the meatscapes. The Space Loonies maintain sufficient medical technology to overcome it in most fleets, but rarely appear planetside. Towns are often left with amputation as their sole option. Even that may come sorrowfully late if the meat has already penetrated the patient's bloodstream. For many, suicide is the only option following an infestation by the meat - assisted or otherwise.
The Cult has no power to reverse the spread of the meat on a person's body. They have no desire to. Instead, the Cult of Meat's upper echelons are gifted with the ability to guide the corruption's paths. By the power of the meat, they can mould the afflicted into new forms, imbue them with viscous powers, and bestow upon them a oneness with the meat that even the Space Loonies cannot replicate. Those shaped by the meat are elevated to the Cloud's Children, incapable of refusing the Cult's faith.
Many blame the redworlders - or thank them - for their role in bringing the Cult's predecessors and faith to Set. Similarly, the redworlders are curiously vulnerable to the Cult's influence. At least a tenth of the Cult's congregation is suspected to be made up of redworlders, many of whom willingly converted. Few other non-human species are present in the Cult's ranks - and mankind is the Cult's dominant species largely due to convenience. Outside of historical significance, the reasons behind redworlders' the unusual susceptibility to the Cult are unknown.
Curiously, the Cult of Meat's influence does not extend into the underground. It is present only in the open air, and the meatscapes all but refuse to grow below the surface. Many fear the underground as an unholy place that refuses the touch of the meat. Only the most daring of cultists and engorged of meat monsters brave the depths below. Cult movement underground is restricted almost entirely to defensive actions against subterranean Loonies or aggressive wildlife. An explanation for the underground's lack of sanguinity has yet to surface.
Despite their far-reaching influence and lofty ideals of grand unity, the Cult is anything but whole. Most sects operate on an entirely independent basis to pursue their own paths to enlightenment. Some are death cults bent on mass suicide over holy ground, others are conquerors and marauders masquerading under the guise of faith. Some seek the total corruption of Set's surface, others look outwards, to the untainted cosmos. While infighting in the Cult is rare, so, too, is true brotherhood.
IT GROWS
The Cult's many sects hold sway over countless towns and nomads. They provide for many settlements unable to fend for themselves. They graciously provide shelter and supplies to many travellers in need. There is no secret to the Cult's success; they are generous to all who welcome them and all who arrive without malice. They give and expect little in return but gratitude and respect. They offer up the boundless harvests of the meatscapes, even at cost to themselves, and offer protection that only a united faith of millions could provide.
In much the same stroke, the Cult's influence is as much an infection as it is a religion. Prolonged exposure to meatscape-affected tissue causes a gradual build-up of meatscape flesh on any potential host. Be it the skin of a living human or the shell of a robotic drone, there is nothing the meat cannot corrupt. The accumulated meatscape flesh steadily grows across the host until it fully envelops them. In the case of organic creatures, this is often by direct corruption of living tissue via viruses inserted by the infestation. For machines and inorganic life, the flesh simply grows around them until they can no longer function.
For organic creatures, the process of corruption is a slow, painful death as their body is steadily consumed and replaced by meatscape flesh. Without intervention, infection by the meat is unavoidably fatal. Those that succumb to the meat are reduced to shapeless mounds of congealed blood and contradictory muscles. For the few whose immune systems are strong enough to fight off the worst of the meat's attacks, a more viscous fate lies in store. Surviving a full-blown infestation leads to transformation into a meat monster, driven feral by raw pain and partial corruption of the brain. For the inorganic, death lies in slow, steady digestion as their parts are dissolved by a stomach grown around them.
Few have the power to reverse the spread of the meat. The Loonies have only a handful of bunkers with the medical facilities to combat the touch of the meatscapes. The Space Loonies maintain sufficient medical technology to overcome it in most fleets, but rarely appear planetside. Towns are often left with amputation as their sole option. Even that may come sorrowfully late if the meat has already penetrated the patient's bloodstream. For many, suicide is the only option following an infestation by the meat - assisted or otherwise.
The Cult has no power to reverse the spread of the meat on a person's body. They have no desire to. Instead, the Cult of Meat's upper echelons are gifted with the ability to guide the corruption's paths. By the power of the meat, they can mould the afflicted into new forms, imbue them with viscous powers, and bestow upon them a oneness with the meat that even the Space Loonies cannot replicate. Those shaped by the meat are elevated to the Cloud's Children, incapable of refusing the Cult's faith.
Many blame the redworlders - or thank them - for their role in bringing the Cult's predecessors and faith to Set. Similarly, the redworlders are curiously vulnerable to the Cult's influence. At least a tenth of the Cult's congregation is suspected to be made up of redworlders, many of whom willingly converted. Few other non-human species are present in the Cult's ranks - and mankind is the Cult's dominant species largely due to convenience. Outside of historical significance, the reasons behind redworlders' the unusual susceptibility to the Cult are unknown.
Curiously, the Cult of Meat's influence does not extend into the underground. It is present only in the open air, and the meatscapes all but refuse to grow below the surface. Many fear the underground as an unholy place that refuses the touch of the meat. Only the most daring of cultists and engorged of meat monsters brave the depths below. Cult movement underground is restricted almost entirely to defensive actions against subterranean Loonies or aggressive wildlife. An explanation for the underground's lack of sanguinity has yet to surface.
Despite their far-reaching influence and lofty ideals of grand unity, the Cult is anything but whole. Most sects operate on an entirely independent basis to pursue their own paths to enlightenment. Some are death cults bent on mass suicide over holy ground, others are conquerors and marauders masquerading under the guise of faith. Some seek the total corruption of Set's surface, others look outwards, to the untainted cosmos. While infighting in the Cult is rare, so, too, is true brotherhood.
