The Freaks Come Out At Night: Centimani [Promethean: The Created]

Open Development, Promethean: The Created

The Pilgrimage is a hard road. Supposedly, Prometheans have a reward to look forward to – the promise of Humanity. But sometimes, a Promethean looks at humanity with derision, or horror, or just plain old apathy, and turns his back on the Great Work.

If that continues, the Promethean can be said to follow the “Refinement” of Flux, making him a Centimanus. Centimani wield Flux like a weapon. They summon up pure chaos, calling down Firestorms, mimicking the Dread Powers of Pandorans, disrupting the Transmutations of other Prometheans, and aggravating the worst aspects of the Saturnine Night. Different Centimani have different goals, but one thing is for certain: One progresses on the Pilgrimage, or one degrades. No progress toward the New Dawn is possible while a Promethean follows the Refinement of Flux.

Adherence to the Refinement of Flux isn’t necessarily suicide. A Promethean can find peace in accepting her own nature, in not having to fight to become something else and being able to stop running from the Pandorans at her heels. Some Prometheans even see themselves as kin to the Lilithim: necessary agents of chaos and destruction. Others are less philosophical. They stop thinking and give themselves to instinct and impulse. And some are purely practical, seeing a path to power.

This path is not without its downsides. The Flux transforms a Promethean, body and mind. Their forms often become twisted and mutated, like a Pandoran, hence the moniker Freaks. Many are insane or, at the very least, highly unstable and unpredictable. Flux, by its very nature, is the enemy of order and coherence. Those who spend a long time in this Refinement find it hard to keep their thoughts together. Memories become a jumble and complex rational thought becomes elusive. Only their Azoth allows them to maintain any shred of sanity or identity. Many Centimani become creatures of ritual, investing what habits and practices they manage to hold onto with a nearly religious observance.

Yet, Centimani are not irredeemable. All else aside, the Refinement of Flux is just that: a Refinement; a philosophy, not a permanent change. Any Freak can choose to switch to Stannum to escape the chaos and begin the difficult road back to the Great Work. Sometimes it is a moment of clarity that allows him to return to the Great Work and begin rebuilding himself. Other times, a Hundred Handed One’s former throng will pull him from the grip of despair and help to set him to right. The former Centimanus may have done terrible things while chasing the Flux, but who among the Prometheans hasn’t? He is just another monster, seeking redemption.

Examples:

An Osiran sees the power to be had in the mastery of Flux and the control of the monsters which harry his brothers. He is no idealist, his interest is purely practical. His ambition leads him down a dark path, searching for the mentor who can teach him forbidden alchemy. He turns his back on humanity and gives himself to chaos. Try as he might, he is ultimately unable to hide what he has become from the other members of his throng, so he feeds them to the Pandorans to gain their obedience and walks into the night.

Every night, Sentry dreams of seeing his friends fall to the monsters, seeing them rent and torn asunder despite all his efforts to protect them. One night, he goes to a place where the Pandorans are known to lie dormant and makes a deal with the Hundred Handed who is their master, turning his back on his Great Work. The next time his throng sees him is when he steps out in front of a pack of Pandorans, stopping them in their tracks. His body twisted and his eyes filled with pain, he bids them to flee.

A Cathar comes to the conclusion that the impurity within him is his humanity. By removing that weakness, he can become a better, more refined monster. He turns his study to the Refinement of Flux, using it to burn away the progress he’s made on his Pilgrimage. Only by embracing both sides of the Divine Fire can he hope to make himself pure. He wonders how he could ever have been so foolish as to believe that humanity was something to aspire to, especially when he stands over their pathetic mewling bodies, glorious in his newly found perfection.