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Description
So, I finally made good on that journal I posted a bit back. Here is the free to play Female Muscle Growth Drive! Read the rules for voting below, or you can comment on this journal if you wish to help contribute more character traits! If we hit enough comments, I will add more characters to the drive! (Read that journal for more details!)

-------RULES: HOW TO MAKE THE GALS GROW.-------
Leave a comment below. Specify these two things:
1) The candidate who you would like to grow, and
2) The specific body part you would like to see get a "bonus boost" (optional.) This can be any muscle group, or breasts, hips, height, etc.
For each comment, the specified candidate will get +3 "points" applied to their entire body, and an additional +1 point (total 4) to the specified area. Additionally, the OTHER candidate will get a +1 full-body boost as well to make sure no one gets left behind too much!
For muscles, 1 point = 1 pound of muscle (approximate.) Height is at 1 inch per 10 points, hips at 1 inch circumference per four points, and breasts are at 1 cup per four points. Anything else will be ad-hoc.

(For those more used to the metric system, 2 points is approx 1 kilo of muscle, height is about 4 points per cm, and hips are about 2 cm per 3 points.)

Current profiles:

Nerys
Race: Human
Height: 5'6" / 167cm
Weight: 135 lbs / 61 kg
Build: Bottom-heavy
Occupation: Diplomat
Personality: Friendly, inquisitive
Misc: Mid-level empath

Tiera
Race: Qeshall
Length: 8'7" / 262 cm (5'10" / 178 cm human equivalent height)
Weight: 220 lbs / 100 kg (145 lbs / 70 kg human equivalent)
Build: Naga-forme, hourglass
Occupation: Researcher
Personality: Friendly, talkative, generous
Misc: Was once declared clinically deceased; now lives on life-supports bionics

Story:
Nerys was enjoying her time off as she strolled through the city of Naya Surya. The bustling metropolis was essentially the hub for the entire Orion arm; various races of all shapes and sizes scurried across the pristine catwalks under the pleasant warmth of the white sun. Though she was happy with her formal position as a diplomat, Nerys often preferred to view others in a more casual setting, where they had no particular agendas on their mind nor strict custom to consider. On this particular day, she decided to open her mental channels - she was, from birth, an empath, able to read the thoughts of others.
The mostly-gentle ambient "noise" began to flow through her and in her, for as she might explain to a non-psychic, her abilities were not some kind of divine omniscience. Rather, emotions manifested as dreams of colors, thoughts as choruses of phantom chimes. With training, sense could be made of the seemingly chaotic signals, but for now, she simply wanted to relax and take it all in.
One melody in particular stood out to her; something she couldn't quite parse. If she were to explain it, she knew the tune - a sort of casual contentment, with a hint of wistfulness - but she couldn't place the instrument, the mind making it. There were myriad races in Naya Surya, each with their own sort of tone, yet it had been years since she learned every last one. Who, then...?

Out of idle curiosity, Nerys followed the signal to a local cafe. Ilksha-owned, she noted before passing the threshold. Good, their cuisine was palatable to humans, so she wouldn't stick out or seem rude. She greeted the shopkeeper (who was always located by the door in Ilksha businesses), ordered a fizzy drink, and ventured in to track her mystery signal. The place was mostly quiet at this time of day, but a few customers dotted the tables. A lone Chymykh, a table of Gomnods, a Jask conducting business with a Briclue, and the obligatory Ilksha - these she knew. As her eyes scanned the tables, she lighted on a woman who must be her culprit. She had a serpentine body, rather like a Briclue, but of roughly human scale, and with a sapien torso. Oddly, her table was entirely bare, not only devoid of other people but also of any food. On closer examination, her body was covered in bionics of a rather ghastly-looking sort, filled with various fluids she couldn't identify. Grim-worlder? she thought to herself, thinking of the races of planets so extreme that their hyper-adapted bodies would perish in temperate clime. Still, for all her gear the woman clearly had some skin exposed to the air so it would be unlikely that...

Her stream of thought was broken as she realized the woman had noticed her staring. In fact, she was waving. Laughing off her nervousness, Nerys approached closer. "Would you mind if I sat with you?"

The other woman was clearly wearing a cybernetic mask, yet for the most part her voice sounded organic as she responded with a polite "Of course, dear, go right ahead."

Nerys happily obliged and gave her name. "I am Tiera, good fortune to you child," came the reply as the serpent woman extended her hand, which Nerys happily shook. "Though I'm glad for the company," Tiera continued, "I must ask, what brings you here? It is a bit strange, no?"

Sheepishly, Nerys explained how she had noticed a novel psychic signal and traced it here. "I've lived here for six years and not heard one like it. Do your people not travel here often?"

"Ahh." Tiera's ferro-fiber 'mouth' articulated a smile. "I wish that it were so. My race - the Qeshall - is instead so few as to be countable to the last man. Exactly twenty-one thousand eight-hundred and twelve of us remain alive. Statistically, it's not surprising you have never seen one of us before." She had put a strange lilt on the word 'alive', as if there was some unseen weight behind it.

Nerys' background as a diplomat immediately kicked in, as she considered how to continue. The safest route was not to probe a tragedy until the other party displayed willingness to bring it up on their own, but this woman seemed open and friendly. A consolation was risky, as a rare few could take it as an insult to pride. She settled for a sympathetic tone without trying to patronize: "I see. What happened to them, if I may?"
Tiera leaned back. Her mouth said "that's hardly a conversation that can be completed quickly," but her body language urged Nerys to reconfirm her curiosity.
"No, please go ahead. I have plenty of time, and I find racial histories fascinating."

Tiera set her hands on the table, giving a smirk before launching into her narrative "If you insist. As many races have, the Qeshall once had undertaken a grand project to control their own genetic pool, artificially evolving positive traits at a rate matched only by the needs of the greater good. And, as many have, we sought to use a self-replicating nanite as the vector with which to enact this control. Where this tale differs, is that our grand project did not fall into the political and bureaucratic quagmire that plagues most such undertakings before their completion. As of SSD 5744, our nanite was enacted, and ten years later was nigh omnipresent in our race."

SSD 5744? That was nearly 400 years ago, Nerys mused to herself, awestruck.

"The Senshi'anahae - or literally, 'The Control' - was incredibly successful. Despite naysayers amongst both our own kind and the galactic community, we had not yet fallen to our own hubris, but instead we were stronger, faster sharper, and healthier than ever before. For a time, new genetic innovations furthered that advantage year after year. Even the idea of death by old age seemed to vanish from our culture, as seemingly no one with The Control could pass away. It was a century and a half beyond that we first saw the stagnation of our progress, but some argued that we had simply reached the pinnacle of genetic possibility. And yet, we continued to stagnate, and then, to decay. Resources that would put a thorium mogul's wealth to shame were poured into research, research, endless research, until decades later it was found that a systemic glitch in the retroviral insertion codes was essentially poisoning our genes. All citizens were required to perform a nanite recall - after all, we were not so foolish as to not have a failsafe."

"I'm guessing that didn't fix the problem," Nerys chimed in. She felt waves of mixed grief-frustration from Tiera as she continued.

"No. The extraction gave every appearance of fixing the issue: bad bots out, good bots in. And yet, thirteen years later, the issue resurfaced. It was discovered that before the issue of gene-poisoning was known, a more sinister error had beset The Control: Recall-resistant strains which do not develop in laboratory conditions had yet managed to develop in 99.8% of all individuals. So, the bad nanites survived. Since the nanites lived in tissues as well as in the bloodstream, they were essentially impossible to remove conventionally. Thusly, through years of further decay, we became more and more dependent on machines for survival as our bodies withered. Many of us died, tsn-Tiera included. Essentially, we now all undergo permanent dialysis to keep the populations of The Control down, but their reproductive spiral has proven extremely resilient." She tapped the tanks of liquid surgically implanted in her body to emphasize her point.

"You...died." Nerys' mouth was agape as she cocked an eyebrow.

Tiera took a deep breath. "Yes and no. Tsn-Tiera died. It is difficult to explain, but when you awake, you are not the same person who died. I share many things with her, but she is not me. They say it is like kindling a new fire in the ash and charcoal of an old which has been doused."

Nerys rubbed her forehead, trying to absorb that information. As she was doing so however, a new revelation struck her "Wait - back up a moment though. You said impossible to remove 'conventionally', implying you believe there is a way to remove The Control unconventionally, yes?"

"Astute," Tiera remarked. "Yes. However my line of thought has met with much criticism. I believe, essentially, that a counter-nanite is the only viable solution to permanently remove - and perhaps replace - The Control."

Nerys fidgeted. "Right, but didn't a nanite get your race into this mess?"

Tiera merely chortled. "That is the rhetoric of most of my species as well. Yet, just as the two poles of a magnet oppose, sometimes the answer to a problem lies within itself. I have worked for years on a counter-nanite whose composition more resembles that of the body, so as to be the least toxic it can possibly be. I and my team are very near prototype completion. If we are successful, we may enjoy another golden age - not to mention break the stigma currently holding back nano-gene manipulation. But certainly, I would much like to be in my own flesh again, without these horrid circuits and hoses. A new version of The Control, without its faults, could make that possible again."

Nerys swished her lips from side to side as she met the sentiment with a healthy skepticism.

"If you like, I can show you," Tiera offered back.

Looking up at the ceiling, Nerys suddenly slammed her hands on the table. "Sure, I'm sure I can learn something out of it."

Description
So, I finally made good on that journal I posted a bit back. Here is the free to play Female Muscle Growth Drive! Read the rules for voting below, or you can comment on this journal if you wish to help contribute more character traits! If we hit enough comments, I will add more characters to the drive! (Read that journal for more details!)

-------RULES: HOW TO MAKE THE GALS GROW.-------
Leave a comment below. Specify these two things:
1) The candidate who you would like to grow, and
2) The specific body part you would like to see get a "bonus boost" (optional.) This can be any muscle group, or breasts, hips, height, etc.
For each comment, the specified candidate will get +3 "points" applied to their entire body, and an additional +1 point (total 4) to the specified area. Additionally, the OTHER candidate will get a +1 full-body boost as well to make sure no one gets left behind too much!
For muscles, 1 point = 1 pound of muscle (approximate.) Height is at 1 inch per 10 points, hips at 1 inch circumference per four points, and breasts are at 1 cup per four points. Anything else will be ad-hoc.

(For those more used to the metric system, 2 points is approx 1 kilo of muscle, height is about 4 points per cm, and hips are about 2 cm per 3 points.)

Current profiles:

Nerys
Race: Human
Height: 5'6" / 167cm
Weight: 135 lbs / 61 kg
Build: Bottom-heavy
Occupation: Diplomat
Personality: Friendly, inquisitive
Misc: Mid-level empath

Tiera
Race: Qeshall
Length: 8'7" / 262 cm (5'10" / 178 cm human equivalent height)
Weight: 220 lbs / 100 kg (145 lbs / 70 kg human equivalent)
Build: Naga-forme, hourglass
Occupation: Researcher
Personality: Friendly, talkative, generous
Misc: Was once declared clinically deceased; now lives on life-supports bionics

Story:
Nerys was enjoying her time off as she strolled through the city of Naya Surya. The bustling metropolis was essentially the hub for the entire Orion arm; various races of all shapes and sizes scurried across the pristine catwalks under the pleasant warmth of the white sun. Though she was happy with her formal position as a diplomat, Nerys often preferred to view others in a more casual setting, where they had no particular agendas on their mind nor strict custom to consider. On this particular day, she decided to open her mental channels - she was, from birth, an empath, able to read the thoughts of others.
The mostly-gentle ambient "noise" began to flow through her and in her, for as she might explain to a non-psychic, her abilities were not some kind of divine omniscience. Rather, emotions manifested as dreams of colors, thoughts as choruses of phantom chimes. With training, sense could be made of the seemingly chaotic signals, but for now, she simply wanted to relax and take it all in.
One melody in particular stood out to her; something she couldn't quite parse. If she were to explain it, she knew the tune - a sort of casual contentment, with a hint of wistfulness - but she couldn't place the instrument, the mind making it. There were myriad races in Naya Surya, each with their own sort of tone, yet it had been years since she learned every last one. Who, then...?

Out of idle curiosity, Nerys followed the signal to a local cafe. Ilksha-owned, she noted before passing the threshold. Good, their cuisine was palatable to humans, so she wouldn't stick out or seem rude. She greeted the shopkeeper (who was always located by the door in Ilksha businesses), ordered a fizzy drink, and ventured in to track her mystery signal. The place was mostly quiet at this time of day, but a few customers dotted the tables. A lone Chymykh, a table of Gomnods, a Jask conducting business with a Briclue, and the obligatory Ilksha - these she knew. As her eyes scanned the tables, she lighted on a woman who must be her culprit. She had a serpentine body, rather like a Briclue, but of roughly human scale, and with a sapien torso. Oddly, her table was entirely bare, not only devoid of other people but also of any food. On closer examination, her body was covered in bionics of a rather ghastly-looking sort, filled with various fluids she couldn't identify. Grim-worlder? she thought to herself, thinking of the races of planets so extreme that their hyper-adapted bodies would perish in temperate clime. Still, for all her gear the woman clearly had some skin exposed to the air so it would be unlikely that...

Her stream of thought was broken as she realized the woman had noticed her staring. In fact, she was waving. Laughing off her nervousness, Nerys approached closer. "Would you mind if I sat with you?"

The other woman was clearly wearing a cybernetic mask, yet for the most part her voice sounded organic as she responded with a polite "Of course, dear, go right ahead."

Nerys happily obliged and gave her name. "I am Tiera, good fortune to you child," came the reply as the serpent woman extended her hand, which Nerys happily shook. "Though I'm glad for the company," Tiera continued, "I must ask, what brings you here? It is a bit strange, no?"

Sheepishly, Nerys explained how she had noticed a novel psychic signal and traced it here. "I've lived here for six years and not heard one like it. Do your people not travel here often?"

"Ahh." Tiera's ferro-fiber 'mouth' articulated a smile. "I wish that it were so. My race - the Qeshall - is instead so few as to be countable to the last man. Exactly twenty-one thousand eight-hundred and twelve of us remain alive. Statistically, it's not surprising you have never seen one of us before." She had put a strange lilt on the word 'alive', as if there was some unseen weight behind it.

Nerys' background as a diplomat immediately kicked in, as she considered how to continue. The safest route was not to probe a tragedy until the other party displayed willingness to bring it up on their own, but this woman seemed open and friendly. A consolation was risky, as a rare few could take it as an insult to pride. She settled for a sympathetic tone without trying to patronize: "I see. What happened to them, if I may?"
Tiera leaned back. Her mouth said "that's hardly a conversation that can be completed quickly," but her body language urged Nerys to reconfirm her curiosity.
"No, please go ahead. I have plenty of time, and I find racial histories fascinating."

Tiera set her hands on the table, giving a smirk before launching into her narrative "If you insist. As many races have, the Qeshall once had undertaken a grand project to control their own genetic pool, artificially evolving positive traits at a rate matched only by the needs of the greater good. And, as many have, we sought to use a self-replicating nanite as the vector with which to enact this control. Where this tale differs, is that our grand project did not fall into the political and bureaucratic quagmire that plagues most such undertakings before their completion. As of SSD 5744, our nanite was enacted, and ten years later was nigh omnipresent in our race."

SSD 5744? That was nearly 400 years ago, Nerys mused to herself, awestruck.

"The Senshi'anahae - or literally, 'The Control' - was incredibly successful. Despite naysayers amongst both our own kind and the galactic community, we had not yet fallen to our own hubris, but instead we were stronger, faster sharper, and healthier than ever before. For a time, new genetic innovations furthered that advantage year after year. Even the idea of death by old age seemed to vanish from our culture, as seemingly no one with The Control could pass away. It was a century and a half beyond that we first saw the stagnation of our progress, but some argued that we had simply reached the pinnacle of genetic possibility. And yet, we continued to stagnate, and then, to decay. Resources that would put a thorium mogul's wealth to shame were poured into research, research, endless research, until decades later it was found that a systemic glitch in the retroviral insertion codes was essentially poisoning our genes. All citizens were required to perform a nanite recall - after all, we were not so foolish as to not have a failsafe."

"I'm guessing that didn't fix the problem," Nerys chimed in. She felt waves of mixed grief-frustration from Tiera as she continued.

"No. The extraction gave every appearance of fixing the issue: bad bots out, good bots in. And yet, thirteen years later, the issue resurfaced. It was discovered that before the issue of gene-poisoning was known, a more sinister error had beset The Control: Recall-resistant strains which do not develop in laboratory conditions had yet managed to develop in 99.8% of all individuals. So, the bad nanites survived. Since the nanites lived in tissues as well as in the bloodstream, they were essentially impossible to remove conventionally. Thusly, through years of further decay, we became more and more dependent on machines for survival as our bodies withered. Many of us died, tsn-Tiera included. Essentially, we now all undergo permanent dialysis to keep the populations of The Control down, but their reproductive spiral has proven extremely resilient." She tapped the tanks of liquid surgically implanted in her body to emphasize her point.

"You...died." Nerys' mouth was agape as she cocked an eyebrow.

Tiera took a deep breath. "Yes and no. Tsn-Tiera died. It is difficult to explain, but when you awake, you are not the same person who died. I share many things with her, but she is not me. They say it is like kindling a new fire in the ash and charcoal of an old which has been doused."

Nerys rubbed her forehead, trying to absorb that information. As she was doing so however, a new revelation struck her "Wait - back up a moment though. You said impossible to remove 'conventionally', implying you believe there is a way to remove The Control unconventionally, yes?"

"Astute," Tiera remarked. "Yes. However my line of thought has met with much criticism. I believe, essentially, that a counter-nanite is the only viable solution to permanently remove - and perhaps replace - The Control."

Nerys fidgeted. "Right, but didn't a nanite get your race into this mess?"

Tiera merely chortled. "That is the rhetoric of most of my species as well. Yet, just as the two poles of a magnet oppose, sometimes the answer to a problem lies within itself. I have worked for years on a counter-nanite whose composition more resembles that of the body, so as to be the least toxic it can possibly be. I and my team are very near prototype completion. If we are successful, we may enjoy another golden age - not to mention break the stigma currently holding back nano-gene manipulation. But certainly, I would much like to be in my own flesh again, without these horrid circuits and hoses. A new version of The Control, without its faults, could make that possible again."

Nerys swished her lips from side to side as she met the sentiment with a healthy skepticism.

"If you like, I can show you," Tiera offered back.

Looking up at the ceiling, Nerys suddenly slammed her hands on the table. "Sure, I'm sure I can learn something out of it."