Zoaen (zoh-a-en)

A shapeshifting species, the zoaen play with the boundary of dimorphism in the extreme. While initially confused for a kind of slime, they distinctly lack the full imitation capabilities of the royal slimes–that is, zoaen merely change their shape. They cannot change their colors, skin, and so forth.   Overall preferring a humanoid state of body, the zoaen possess exclusively inky-black skin, resembling the total void of light. When actual light is cast upon them, one can see ordinary skin with a slight oily glaze to it. Across their bodies, fantastical geometric lines and symbols glow, pulsing with the liquid mana that is their actual lifeblood. These mana-veins glow with a range of fantastic neon and other bright colors, sharply contrasting to their otherwise homogeneous flesh.   The sensitive parts of their bodies–such as the eyes, the mouth, the nipples, the genitals, and so on–exist in a strange in between. As one ventures further into a Zoaen's body, the more their luminous internals shine. Their body fluids also behave in the same way, making them a curiously bright and colorful species in some contexts. Their hair, if any is present, tends to resemble crystalline strands more than a fiber, creating a soft 'clinking' sound when they move about.   As they readily change their shape and form, the zoaen recognize each other more by their mana-vein markings, which are the only consistent thing on their bodies. This can still be a somewhat difficult feat, as the mana-veins still move about.

Limited Shapeshifting – The zoaen shapeshift their bodies anywhere from a puddle/slime-like mass to a many limbed, if indistinct, beast. The more complex the design, the more energy expended, and so truly extravagant shapeshifting comes at an understandable cost.   Most particular to note is that of their nervous system–or rather, their equivalent. As things like taste, pleasure, and sensation take up a lot of 'neural signaling', it is very difficult for them to add more of this. That is, for example, a zoaen with two eyes will usually have two eyes; anymore will incur more stimulus than can otherwise be handled normally. These things may be moved around the body, but the total count, and thus the amount of neural signals being put through, will remain the same.   This neurological threshold is another aspect of their limited shapeshifting, and informs many of their actual shapes.   Herbivores – Zoaen exclusively eat plant-matter, particularly mana-rich varieties.

Personality is everything to the zoaen, including accomplishments, prestige, and capability. The nature of the body is of less import to them, as minor imperfections or undesirables can be altered out. This is in fact par for the course in their romantic norms, making romantic attachment a more literal affair than for other species. While a species like humanity might squick at such notions, the zoaen's mistressy of self makes them quite confident in such matters.   Larger-than-life personalities, artists, and accomplished warriors tend to be among their romantic norms. They abhor indecisive and wishy-washy people, as it is a sign one has no idea what they wish to be. For a people who be what they think they are, this is a more serious matter than may first be obvious. This tends to put an upward pressure on those around them to 'shape up', as the zoaen tend to be ever persistent motivators.   Romantic partnership with non-zoaen is a curious and queer affair to them. The 'solids' or 'unchanging', as they are otherwise grouped together, represent a stagnant enigma. While they understand the soul inside can change and grow, the lack of physical expression in the body is quite baffling to them. Nonetheless, it can be fun interacting with unchanging, and so such relationships are usually seen as deviant or fetishistic in nature.

Zoaen are hyper-alert and overly energetic, making them a very animated species overall. In pure zoaen cultures, it is common for grandiosity to be the norm. By doing so, zoaen can better distinguish themselves, as the sanctity of body that many others intrinsically rely on is not true for them. Perhaps as could be considered ironic by other species, zoaen are very forthright and have little duplicity, because to lie is to effectively become someone else, and thus lose one's identity.   Criminals are not unheard of, but for people who think "wow I'd just pretend to be someone different", this sort of evil is unusual and rare in zoaen cultures. There is no concept of pretending–you are what you behave–and so, acting as another is a loss of personal self-worth and sense that very few rarely afford. Actual criminals are normally more forthright and breaking of other norms, such as property ownership, bullying, and murder. In this sense, they would lie and say "I didn't do it", because they are still their normal sense of self.   Overall desiring peace, their willingness to defend themselves from wrong sharply divides them from other species. Zoaen born in other cultures typically have an easier time 'turning the other cheek', where the natural born might seek to actually do something about a problem. This is has made them an unusual ally of convenience for many in the Underworld, but lying is something to be wary of. Though they do not embrace it themselves, by necessity they have learned how others lie and deceive, and it angers them greatly.

Originating in the depths of the Underworld, the zoaen people are among the closest to 'peaceful' any surface worlder can imagine. Having to fight and jealously protect valuable life-sustaining locations, much of early zoaen civilizations were war-like. As technology progressed, and they could better create artificial habitats, they migrated out of the more contested life zones others fought over. This migration invariably pushed them toward the surface, and they found a happy medium in the dead zone between the sun kissed Surface World and the roiling Underworld.   From there on, much of the zoaen people focused inwardly, busying themselves with their ever expanding habitats and social machinations. With a number of internal wars, political schisms, and other mundane events counting their history, it is notably unremarkable how unaffected they have been by others. Until the last few centuries, the zoaen cultures simply didn't exist on anyone's awareness.   With improved mining techniques ever letting them drill deeper, many surface-dwelling nations have started penetrating into the zoaen habitat range. For better or worse, many perceived these sudden incursions from above as a pre-emptive invasion, and thus ruthlessly fought the unwitting miners back. Collapsing the tunnels and mines, the zoaen quickly arose as a boogeywoman of the deep–a cautionary tale to not go down too far, or the 'living shadows' would claim one's soul.   Others enjoyed a more unique advantage, establishing awkward first contact with the surface world. Although vaguely aware of it from the mutterings of passing lindwurms, it wasn't until these accidental contacts that true knowledge began free flowing. These same nations have started to form more comprehensive partnerships, as the zoaen's access to deep resources proves quite lucrative to starved industries. In turn, the strange and alien creations of surface worlders, as well as their food and medicines, has invigorated these zoaen nations in ways unimaginable to them.   Zoaen colonist groups have, in the last century, begun to filter out onto the surface and settle. These reclusive enclaves bury themselves in the darkest of places, securing a foothold as they try to better understand the blinding power of the sunlight. While they are not inherently nocturnal, and neither does sunlight actually harm them, the zoaen are far too used to darkness to readily walk about in the day time. Coupled the rumors and legends of living shadows, many of the unaware civilizations and species regard them with supernatural awe and fear.