memestertrucks | JANUARY TDM

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((OOC: Hello, and welcome to our first TDM! This month, Reserves will open on the 10th and Applications will open on the 25th! We hope you enjoy the game launch!))

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.

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.

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…

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.

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.

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.”

NAVIGATION || RESERVES || APPLICATIONS

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Once, the very concept of a soul would have been completely unknown to him.

He nods, accepting the explanation without question.]

Then the explosion was from him.

[It's spoken like a statement, but really, it's a question.]

Correct. Megidolaon has its uses, especially with so many unknown adversaries.

[His lips curl back into a smirk, and he rests a hand on his hip. He doubts that this stranger will know what Megidolaon is, but its scale should speak for itself.]

[As he suspected. He is powerful indeed... but even the strong can fall to weaker adversaries with skill or other unknown tricks.]

We share a common magic.

[But not a common source.

A low hum fills the air and when Serph looks up, he spots the shield shimmering into place. Good.

He regards the stranger for a moment. Ordinarily, he would have turned and left to check for monster stragglers, but... Even with his body and mind cleaved, he's not exactly the same as he once was.]

I intend to check for remaining creatures. Will you join me?

Is that so?

[Akechi raises an eyebrow. This is someone unfamiliar with Personas, yet familiar with Persona abilities. Fascinating...

But while the shields are a welcome sign, the monster corpses draw his attention, as they start dissolving into light.]

We'll stand a better chance if we join forces.

[So, no objections here.]

[Serph nods before his attention is caught by the lights. Is it a function of how this reality works -- like the cycle of rebirth in the Junkyard? -- or is it a function of the shields?

His thoughts are put on hold when the lights come towards both he and Akechi. He noticeably tenses when they absorb the lights, the set of his mouth flattening into a grim line as his brows draw close, but this time he isn't filled with a ravenous, all consuming hunger. Tamping down on a sudden sense of urgency to absolutely make sure there are no other creatures loitering about seems easy in comparison. They do not need to rush.]

Your name?

[It's strange how... soothing that light feels. His earlier fatigue slowly subsides. Yet, for some reason, the tips of his fingers still ache, and a brief grimace creeps across his face.

He tries to force his face back to a more neutral expression. Best not to appear too weak or vulnerable.]

Goro Akechi. Most simply call me Akechi.

[Serph notes the grimace but says nothing of it; if Akechi does not wish him to see it by covering such feelings, then he will not mention it.

He nods, acknowledging the two names given. Akechi, then. And the other one, Hereward.]

Serph.

[Just Serph. Turning, he sets off at an easy lope so they can do a circuit around the shield's perimeter, expecting Akechi to come with him.

Does Akechi have questions for him?]

[Akechi nods in acknowledgement, then follows along.

Hmm... Though, now that all is calm, a question gnaws at his mind.]

So, what's the story with that monstrous form?

[Hm?]

It is an Atma. The power of demons, the true self.

[Very few had liked the hunger that came with it, but... in the end, all life needed to devour to live.]

Fascinating.

[Despite his aching fingertips, Akechi touches his chin.]

So, in essence, it's like my Persona, but affecting your physical form rather than appearing as a projection.

[Persona... is that what Hereward is? Akechi's true self. Without a transformation, then perhaps he has been spared the need to devour. But he can't find it in him to be envious; power like that... probably means there was something to fight.

Besides. Certainly the Temple may have been waxing poetic -- but what does poetic even mean? -- about calling Atma the true self and it may not even really be true, given the nature of what the Junkyard actually was. And yet, after seeing the changes wrought amongst them all, it seems an apt descriptor nevertheless. So... what does it mean for him, having Varna humming within his cells again instead of Ardha?

Technicalities aside, Akechi's assessment seems to be a good enough way of conceptualising their natures. Which leads him to ask-]

Does your Persona seem different here?

[Not necessarily weaker per se, but...]

His abilities are limited.

[His words carry a hint of a growl, but perhaps he should elaborate.]

Ordinarily, Hereward carries a diverse assortment of skills, from physical and gun, to debilitating foes, as well as a much more powerful, single-target almighty attack. Now, he's limited to Eigaon and Megidolaon, which made those Pisaca especially aggravating.

[He adapted, obviously, but it would have been much simpler with Riot Gun.]

[It is as he suspected then. He's felt... locked down since his arrival. Not quite like when he had emerged from the Junkyard into "Nirvana" but there is a strange sense of restriction, like having fewer electronic ports. Nevertheless, power still hums within Varna.

Still, something Akechi says strikes him as odd. Ignoring that he doesn't recognise Eigaon as a spell (perhaps he will see a demonstration of it later), does anyone else recognise the Pisaca for what they are? They're not supposed to be as... supposedly common as a cat, right?

His gaze scans the perimeter as they walk, eyes and ears watching and listening.]

I know Pisaca as an Atma.

[And therefore, something once human. He didn't meet too many of them since the others had largely carved them up getting to the EGG so there weren't many of them around on the way out, but nevertheless.]

[...Atma? Akechi tries not to stare, but fails. Thankfully, it only lasts a few moments before composure returns to his features.]

I know them as Shadows that lurk in the Metaverse.

[He pauses, as the unfamiliar terminology on Serph's end suggests the Metaverse would be just as foreign.]

Effectively, it's a parallel world based solely in cognition. Thoughts, feelings, either in the form of an individual's distorted desires or the greater collective.

[So that's interesting. A shared entity across realities, presumably with the exact same appearance.

What could that mean?]

[A reality of the mind? He considers that. Everything is simply... data. That was how he and some of his comrades were able to make the jump from what was essentially a computer program into the world beyond. That was how the data of people who had died ended up in the Junkyard. The barriers between mind and body are more flimsy than what most would believe.]

Are these Shadows why you have a Persona? To fight? To what end?

[What end indeed... Akechi breaths a small, near inaudible sigh. Serph doesn't need to know that Akechi was once an assassin. He's no longer bound to Shido.

Best not to bring... complications.

No, he can focus on the broader strokes. The more idealistic use of Personas.]

There was a group of Persona users, the Phantom Thieves, who traversed the Metaverse to fight against corruption by stealing the distorted desires of corrupt adults, thereby forcing them to confront their guilt and confess their sins.

It was a power easily exploited, of course, but they were all victims of an unjust society, and their targets were often above the law.

[He's not entirely sure what Akechi means by unjust society, but... As far as he could tell, only the Junkyard had been governed by law. And in the end, the law had been broken in every way; he had followed the law and instead of opening for he and his tribe, the gates of Nirvana remained shut in his face. So he tore them down.

The world outside did not seem to have such law.

Maybe the law is different, where Akechi comes from. He can't see humans obeying the same things he once did.]

How can one be above the law?

[Hm... An interesting question. A scowl cuts across Akechi's face, but it's not as though he has reason to keep quiet. It's an unfortunate fact of life, and one that Serph clearly isn't familiar with.]

They have power or wealth that allows them to bend the rules. Perhaps they're so famous, no one would dare hold them accountable, or the masses are so attached to their public face that they could never accept the truth.

[Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...

The topic is obviously a bit of a sore point for Akechi, but he has to ask...]

What do you mean by famous?

For instance, a famous artist who stole his pupils' works, or a politician the public adored, but was a vile, reprehensible man behind closed doors.

[There's no denying the bitterness, especially on the subject of that politician. He even briefly averts his eyes.]

[Serph's expression becomes a little more pinched. Artist? He has a small understanding of that. But politician? He remembers one tribe member mentioning that politics had something to do with government, where devouring happened every day.

Somehow, he doesn't think that was meant literally.

The topic seems to be close to Akechi's heart. Maybe it's like being ruled by a tribe whose leadership you despise. Someone with influence that you have either no choice but to obey, or be silenced. ... He can't feel but feel a sudden stab of sympathy for the dissidents he had to quash.

But the mention of adoration in front of others while being vile in private... it hits a little closer to home than he'd like.]

I see.

[Still, it is odd to defend the rules. Maybe... ]

So the laws in your land are... good?

[Akechi grunts out a sound, half a laugh, half a scoff.

It's such a funny question, really. Loaded, even.]

The idea of the law is to uphold stability and create a baseline for what is morally acceptable. However, in practice, laws are often bent or otherwise used to restrict or oppress.

Those who benefit from the status quo probably do find the laws good and just. Those who do not suffer, often in silence.

[Hm. Even if he found the Junkyard law sickening in the end, it was true that when everyone followed it, things were... stable. Before the Atma, it would have been unheard of for him to need to quell the various uprisings in his conquered territories; the tribes absorbed into his would have simply followed without question.]

So that is why the Phantom Thieves fought.

[A tilt of the head.]

What of yourself?

[Hm. How much should he say? At first, Akechi is quiet, still avoiding eye contact. Someone he just met doesn't need to know his entire life story.

Perhaps something vague will work.]

Let's just say I know a thing or two about injustice, and the way it can inevitably break people.

[Hm. He won't press any further then, for now. He nods in (some) understanding.

It doesn't look like they need to fight any more for now; with the shield up and the remaining stragglers seemingly taken out by others who have landed in this place. Good.]

Does using your Persona tire you?

[He did notice that Akechi didn't use Hereward at all once he entered the scene. Maybe Akechi needs rest after throwing out those Megidolaons?]

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