I'm really happy you're so interested! It's a damn fun character. And actually, those are some of the things that I've been playing with. I'm not sure how many elements I'm going to get into this story, but I can tentatively say that I'm going to work in something on its approach to death and damage. (Early on I was going to have a birth scenario, but I may save that for another time.)
So, to answer what I can without giving things away: Yes, The Hive has two sexes and is oviparous. (Its eggs are about the size of your fist, look like medicine capsules, and are a color rather like red sandstone. No one knows how many it lays at a time because it refuses to let anyone watch it.) Its reproduction is generally a bit like a body's metabolic steady state, except instead of weight this regulation holds it as a certain population. When its population falls drastically for some reason (plague, disaster, etc.) it compensates--and as far as people can tell, this is all done without much conscious attention. No one's sure what it thinks about its own mating, but I'd guess it enjoys it. It's certainly not interested in courtship displays, but choice of mates seems to be more about convenience, or even a bit of selective breeding on The Hive's part.
Hive bodies can die of old age or any number of things, so replacement is usually constant. It describes a dead body as just being "gone," not there any more for it to control. I think it's as afraid of the time it will eventually go extinct just like we fear dying, but the death of an individual body doesn't phase it. (It can be traumatized and hurt by large die-offs, though.) Describing this feeling to people who are only in one place at one time and only die once is apparently difficult for it.
At the writers' group someone pointed out to me that I hadn't mentioned any other hive species on its planet, which was a gross oversight, since the idea is that that's one branch of the animal kingdom on its planet, and this mind is the one with that spark of self-awareness. I'm still working out its biology, but that's the basic concept.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2008-05-11 01:27 am (UTC)So, to answer what I can without giving things away: Yes, The Hive has two sexes and is oviparous. (Its eggs are about the size of your fist, look like medicine capsules, and are a color rather like red sandstone. No one knows how many it lays at a time because it refuses to let anyone watch it.) Its reproduction is generally a bit like a body's metabolic steady state, except instead of weight this regulation holds it as a certain population. When its population falls drastically for some reason (plague, disaster, etc.) it compensates--and as far as people can tell, this is all done without much conscious attention. No one's sure what it thinks about its own mating, but I'd guess it enjoys it. It's certainly not interested in courtship displays, but choice of mates seems to be more about convenience, or even a bit of selective breeding on The Hive's part.
Hive bodies can die of old age or any number of things, so replacement is usually constant. It describes a dead body as just being "gone," not there any more for it to control. I think it's as afraid of the time it will eventually go extinct just like we fear dying, but the death of an individual body doesn't phase it. (It can be traumatized and hurt by large die-offs, though.) Describing this feeling to people who are only in one place at one time and only die once is apparently difficult for it.
At the writers' group someone pointed out to me that I hadn't mentioned any other hive species on its planet, which was a gross oversight, since the idea is that that's one branch of the animal kingdom on its planet, and this mind is the one with that spark of self-awareness. I'm still working out its biology, but that's the basic concept.
(Hivelet! That might work!)