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memestertrucks2025-01-01 12:01 am
monstertruckers) wrote in memestertrucks2025-01-01 12:01 am
Entry tags:
JANUARY TDM
After tumbling through shadow you find yourself in a shrouded, ruined garage. It’s full of shattered windows and broken mechanical equipment; watch out for shards on the floor, in between the strange symbols scrawled into the ground. Outside the daylight is fading; night is rolling in, and there’s just a few dying lights flickering on and off. It’s going to be hard to see in here and avoid bumping into things and people, if you don’t get outside soon.
Beyond the rundown garage is an overgrown gas station surrounded by thick, wetland forest. Starlight is streaming through the trees, along with light from a broken moon. The one thing that isn’t overgrown with plants is a large Convoy of vehicles, parked right underneath the station canopy.
01: START UP
The Convoy looks like a cross between a semi truck and a train; there’s no one at the front, but there’s still power humming through the entire Convoy. It’s also the most hospitable thing in sight. Why not make yourself at home a little? You just have to chase that eerie, empty feeling since there’s no one else present.
Alternately, there are the cars scattered around the Convoy; all of them in better shape than the gas station. And some of them looking and feeling almost like they might belong to you. That feeling is only increased, when you see there’s a key to the car nearby. Perhaps the key is already in the ignition, on the dashboard… It may have even been on your person, ever since you woke up in that garage. Either way, you have the keys to the vehicle now.
…But there’s a few rough edges on these vehicles. Flat tires, cracked windows and mirrors, maybe some stuck doors and locks; all of them the sort of thing that requires two pairs of hands and supplies. The garage can take care of the supplies… Now it’s just a matter of finding some extra hands.
Alternately, there are the cars scattered around the Convoy; all of them in better shape than the gas station. And some of them looking and feeling almost like they might belong to you. That feeling is only increased, when you see there’s a key to the car nearby. Perhaps the key is already in the ignition, on the dashboard… It may have even been on your person, ever since you woke up in that garage. Either way, you have the keys to the vehicle now.
…But there’s a few rough edges on these vehicles. Flat tires, cracked windows and mirrors, maybe some stuck doors and locks; all of them the sort of thing that requires two pairs of hands and supplies. The garage can take care of the supplies… Now it’s just a matter of finding some extra hands.
02: RUIN EXPLORATION
The ruined gas station and garage are the only man-made structures around, and have seen better days. The store still holds packaged food, and tepid drinks of all sorts. The garage has old mechanical equipment for working on cars, along with that strange summoning circle.
There's also a giant tree bursting through the gas station roof. And clinging to its branches, half melted into the surface, are metallic bodies. Graffiti is spray painted onto the tree, reading ‘avoid the Husks.’
Those who ignore the warning and get closer hear a faint hum coming off those bodies. It’s almost like whispers, though it’s impossible to make out any clear words. Some Husks are clutching supplies in metal fists. For a few unlucky new arrivals, those Husks might even be holding the keys to their vehicles.
Making direct contact with the Husks intensifies the hum, and the whispers begin to form into pained cries, and give the impression of something rummaging through their thoughts; trying to pry out things that hurt Drifters, and reflecting those hurtful things on the bodies of the Husks for anyone to see.
There's also a giant tree bursting through the gas station roof. And clinging to its branches, half melted into the surface, are metallic bodies. Graffiti is spray painted onto the tree, reading ‘avoid the Husks.’
Those who ignore the warning and get closer hear a faint hum coming off those bodies. It’s almost like whispers, though it’s impossible to make out any clear words. Some Husks are clutching supplies in metal fists. For a few unlucky new arrivals, those Husks might even be holding the keys to their vehicles.
Making direct contact with the Husks intensifies the hum, and the whispers begin to form into pained cries, and give the impression of something rummaging through their thoughts; trying to pry out things that hurt Drifters, and reflecting those hurtful things on the bodies of the Husks for anyone to see.
03: MONSTER ATTACK
The night grows darker, and the shadows grow deeper. And from those shadows comes the glint of something moving across the Husks, rippling over the metal… And breaking it apart in a flurry of too sharp claws and teeth. That’s when the radio chooses to come on in another mess of static.
Be careful- Keep your fear and rage in check- Calls the monsters- We need the shield up-
The warning comes too late as monsters arrive. Some human-like but with razor teeth mouths that stretch from face to groin; others resembling alligators with bloated proportions and jaws that spit lightning; and still others where the vegetation has come to life, sporting thorn covered appendages.
The Pisaca monsters act as shock troopers, wearing the Convoy down with venomous bites and debilitating howls, before the heavy and brutish alligators bull in, using their bulk and electric attacks to obliterate what’s left. The capparwires scurry in the periphery, taking cheap shots with thorny vines and sparking electricity where they can. It’s a task to keep the monsters at bay until the generator fires up. Especially when one last enemy makes an appearance…
Be careful- Keep your fear and rage in check- Calls the monsters- We need the shield up-
The warning comes too late as monsters arrive. Some human-like but with razor teeth mouths that stretch from face to groin; others resembling alligators with bloated proportions and jaws that spit lightning; and still others where the vegetation has come to life, sporting thorn covered appendages.
The Pisaca monsters act as shock troopers, wearing the Convoy down with venomous bites and debilitating howls, before the heavy and brutish alligators bull in, using their bulk and electric attacks to obliterate what’s left. The capparwires scurry in the periphery, taking cheap shots with thorny vines and sparking electricity where they can. It’s a task to keep the monsters at bay until the generator fires up. Especially when one last enemy makes an appearance…
03-A: MIRRORMIC
There's as a metallic shiver along one of the remaining Husks, and a strange ringing whisper in the ears. The next moment, the Husk breaks open in a gleaming pool of quicksilver. That quicksilver catches reflections, and molds itself into a darker copy of a Drifter.
The mirror monster whispers faults and secrets at the reflected Drifter, and anyone close by. It tries to goad Drifters into an attack. And when struck, the mirror monster plays its second trick; whatever damage it takes is reflected back onto the Drifter as a transformation. An injury to the arm transforms the Drifter's arm, and so on.
It's possible to banish this monster through direct lights shone on it from a car, flashlight, or magic… But such action needs to be swift, before the Mirrormic completely changes its Drifter.
03-B: BOMBADGY BOMBARDMENT
Before, during and even a little after the monster attack, there’s an extra presence scurrying around the vehicles, snuffling and barking when startled. A band of chunky, raccoon-esque monsters known as the bombadgy are raiding anything that looks like it could be food storage… And this includes vehicles!
The bombadgy’s claws are deft and sharp with tearing through windows and door seams. These creatures are a touch skittish and won’t attack unless provoked. They also can expel a flammable gas… And this means they can explode if sufficiently spooked or stressed. This also means that they can be treated as living bombs, and be lobbed at other threats if needed.
04: WIND DOWN
During the monster attack, there’s changes gripping the Convoy, and especially the people in it. It might feel like your control is getting worn away by the second… At least until something in the trucks starts to whirr to life. It’s a soft enough noise, little more than a hum as something blooms out of the engines. It fast turns into a shield that envelops the Convoy in a shimmering, glowing dome.
And while it might not be enough to reverse those changes, it can at least stop them from growing any worse. Give you a moment of breathing space to adjust to everything that’s happened, and give you some measure of clarity and control. There’s time to breathe and mend now. Take stock of one’s injuries and changes.
But there’s a few strange surprises still waiting, it seems. Because the corpses of the monsters begin to disintegrate, like they are bleeding out motes of sickly light. Light that you quickly absorb; it has the side effect of lessening pain, even mending wounds… Though it might make you feel a bit off. Maybe a little more excitable, maybe a little more irritable, or maybe expressing a certain odd psychological quirk. Still, that sudden surge should pass in about an hour or so; just need to keep it together until then. Perhaps with a little company.
And while it might not be enough to reverse those changes, it can at least stop them from growing any worse. Give you a moment of breathing space to adjust to everything that’s happened, and give you some measure of clarity and control. There’s time to breathe and mend now. Take stock of one’s injuries and changes.
But there’s a few strange surprises still waiting, it seems. Because the corpses of the monsters begin to disintegrate, like they are bleeding out motes of sickly light. Light that you quickly absorb; it has the side effect of lessening pain, even mending wounds… Though it might make you feel a bit off. Maybe a little more excitable, maybe a little more irritable, or maybe expressing a certain odd psychological quirk. Still, that sudden surge should pass in about an hour or so; just need to keep it together until then. Perhaps with a little company.
05: CAMP
A screen in the Convoy flickers to life. The image isn't visible through a snowfield of static. Same with the audio:
“Still… Alive? Good. Connection- Can’t hear you. Can't talk. Convoy will- take you closer to Nirvana.”
After that, the connection is dropped, leaving a collection of text:
I’m sorry. I have no answers for you. But you’re still alive. You’re not as broken as the rest of the world. When the sun rises, this Convoy and all the cars around it will start moving North towards Nirvana. If you want answers, and to stay as close to human as you can… I suggest you stay with the Convoy. Good luck.
A last alert flashes across the screen: “TESTING LOCAL NETWORK CONNECTION.” And then… Music starts to play on the speakers. Mellow guitar and brass music that’s at odds with all the weird that’s happened recently, but perhaps just the thing to relax to.
“Still… Alive? Good. Connection- Can’t hear you. Can't talk. Convoy will- take you closer to Nirvana.”
After that, the connection is dropped, leaving a collection of text:
I’m sorry. I have no answers for you. But you’re still alive. You’re not as broken as the rest of the world. When the sun rises, this Convoy and all the cars around it will start moving North towards Nirvana. If you want answers, and to stay as close to human as you can… I suggest you stay with the Convoy. Good luck.
A last alert flashes across the screen: “TESTING LOCAL NETWORK CONNECTION.” And then… Music starts to play on the speakers. Mellow guitar and brass music that’s at odds with all the weird that’s happened recently, but perhaps just the thing to relax to.
MICRO ENCOUNTERS:
PLEASE NOTE! These are small bits of set dressing for players to include in threads if they wish, rather than full fledged prompts or events. You may handwave your exploration of these areas, or thread them out.
Race Track: There’s a race track that winds around the gas station! It’s a bit threadbare in places and little more than a mossy and muddy trail. But it’s still a race track that weaves under and over trees, and seems like a good place to test new wheels.
Gone Fishing: The gas station area eventually turns into the start of a swamp; that explains where the alligators came from. It may be possible to do a little bit of fishing, though the fish are just as weird as everything else. Still edible though. Swimming in the swamp is not advised. The alligator monsters and fish tend to bite back.
Spray Paint Messages: The paint on the trees and gas station is starting to fade and wash out, but can still be legible; most of it contains messages warning about the end of the world, prayers to the heavens for mercy, and dire warnings about husks and something called “moon warps.”
destroy the righteous
But if she can vibe check the demonic, uncanny, and undead? Bad. Big danger. A roiling aura of dread and malevolence, and a sickly yellow flash to his eyes.
He clearly witnessed her fighting monsters and is now trying to sneak through the gas station unseen. John is skirting along behind the pumps, peering warily out from behind cover to see if she's still occupied. He's not very good at this. ]
Sorry for the delay. Hope this is alright.
She managed to bash one's head until it stopped moving, but the other one is clearly pressing the advantage while she's distracted, and she has to drop to the floor to avoid the gaping maw that lunges for her. While she's down there, she blindly kicks at its knee.
Fortunately, it works, the pisaca goes down. Unfortunately, it goes down more or less on top of her, and she has to jam her makeshift weapon- a tire iron- into the mouth just to keep it from closing on her instead, holding it off of her. The tussle lasts a few brief, frantic moments, before she finally manages to grab and- through sheer, brute strength- twist its head until it snaps.
She shoves the body off of her, retrieves her tire iron, and sits up, though she doesn't hop to her feet just yet.]
It's safe now, you can come out.
[She says it without facing her unexpected audience, still leaning back to catch her breath.]
ofc! feel free to kick his ass at any point
They face a choice: help her, or remain safely hidden? This is Arthur's body. It's Arthur who'd be most imperiled by the fight. But Arthur has not spoken a word since John awoke, and John doesn't know what to do.
He knows what he wants to do.
He seizes the first item that comes to hand: the plastic window scraper from a long-dry cleaning station. It is not much of a weapon. Even so, he has started forward, looking desperately out of his depth, when Faith snaps the thing's neck. ]
Jesus Christ! It... it's dead.
[ His voice is full of relief. His voice is also deep and distorted as though heard from the bottom of a well. It is unquestionably the voice of a demon. ]
no subject
And yet he also sounded... freaked out.
...y'know what, sure. She's met nice demons before, she'll roll with it. She climbs to her feet and dusts herself off, turns, and sees him... clutching a window scraper.]
... what, were you gonna give him an oil change, too? Top off his tank to within an inch of his life?
[Alright, a little rude, but she's also taking it on pure trust here that the weapon was meant for the monster and not her. And he's still making every Slayer instinct scream to put down the threat, which she's making a spirited effort to ignore.]
no subject
I've yet to find a proper weapon. [ He says this very confidently to a woman who didn't need any. ] And those creatures are everywhere.
[ He's still eyeing her warily when she moves, but he certainly doesn't make any threatening advances. The last thing he wants is to injure Arthur's body before Arthur can return to it. ]
no subject
Word. Best I found is this.
[She holds up the tire iron to demonstrate. Notably, she doesn't look like she's brandishing it toward him. She does, however, keep him in her peripheral vision the whole time.]
I'd even settle for a decent knife at this point, this thing sucks.
[She lowers the iron again and chances a glance around them.]
Stick close, I can keep 'em off you if they attack again.
[Not that she likes the thought of hanging out with a guy who sets off all her internal alarm bells, but she figures she's better off dealing with him than anybody else if he is a threat. And if not... well, she may as well protect him. Strength in numbers or whatever.]
no subject
But she is clearly powerful, and they have little else available to them. He cannot let harm come to Arthur. ]
... Okay. [ The awkward grumble makes his voice sound even more like a growl. Still, John falls into step beside her. He watches her in his peripherals, as she does to him. ] There could be useful supplies inside the building.
no subject
[A fire axe, something heavier, a knife, she's really not picky. Though she's more concerned about running into more of those things, and she's definitely jumpy, flinching and spinning around to face any sudden noises. She hastily masks one such reaction with a smirk.]
Just hopin' for something better than the nasty-ass smokes.
[She doesn't elaborate on what she means by that, she just goes right back to her paranoid trek through the gas station. She still, notably, seems to be keeping him in her peripheral vision at all times.]
Got a name?
no subject
John. [ With satisfaction, entirely serious: ] John Doe.
no subject
Faith.
[She is audibly not enjoying the introduction nearly as much as he is.]
Just Faith is good.
[Speaking of smokes, god damn could she use one right now. She'd even be tempted to break into the nasty-ass flavored cigarettes she found if not for her... friend.
She's not sure why he's still got her so spooked- creepy voice aside, he hasn't done anything sinister, hasn't tried to attack her, nothing. So why was she still... well, whatever. She'd just have to deal. She'd adjust or he'd turn on her, one of the two.]
You ever deal with monsters back home, John?
no subject
For a moment, John is damningly silent. His expression has tightened to something cool and wary, sizing her up from his position two steps behind. Before she can fully turn to look at him, he casts his gaze away and busies himself with an overturned shelf.
He keeps his hands free, and does not turn his back to her. Just in case. ]
Yes. I have seen... terrible things. [ When his tone drops grave and low, that inhuman resonance is even more apparent. ] But never have I killed one with my bare hands.
no subject
And that includes helping him right the shelf. If there was any doubt as to how strong she was, the ease with which she hoists the other end of the shelf upright again should answer it.]
Well, don't sound too disappointed, you might just get the chance today.
no subject
He has not killed monsters with his hands. Only men. ]
Let us hope it doesn't come to that.
[ Carefully, deliberately, he completes his circuit of the room and begins back towards the open grounds outside. There may be monsters out there, but at least he will not be sharing enclosed space with... whatever she is. ]
Perhaps we'll be safest in numbers, among the rest.
no subject
...or he was harmless and she was freaking out over nothing. Whatever. Guess she'd just have to take that chance. She's still warily keeping him in the corner of her eye as she glances around them, then lets out a tense breath and gestures to the door.]
Yeah, I guess decent weapons and normal cigarettes were too much to ask for. C'mon, let's blow.
[Whatever his actual motivations were, he wasn't wrong. She's getting kinda freaked out in here even without him helping it along.
She heads toward the door with him and tries to pretend there's nothing weird going on.]