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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.”
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[Were it not for Pomni yelling the whole time.]
[After a few minutes of wild darting, she swerves into a 180, a good pack of everything quickly trailing behind.] H-Hey! There! Is that enough???
[It better be, because she's pretty sure she couldn't do a repeat performance if she tried.]
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[Eyes on the prize, Akechi locks eyes with the monsters, and a wild, almost bloodthirsty smile takes hold of him.]
Slaughter them, Hereward!
[Hereward obliges, materializing on top of the car before launching an explosive Megidolaon, its light consuming the monster swarm.]
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Um... no kill like overkill?
[She definitely noticed a lack of movement from the point of impact, that's for sure!]
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That wild demeanor soon calms, as he leans back in his seat.]
I'd like to think it sent a message.
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[The night is quieter, but by no means still. In the distance, Pomni could make out more of those shambling creatures, terrorizing the others.]
We... should probably get going and meet up with the others. Uh. Good job? I think you made this area a bit safer, anyway.
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Akechi stares out at the chaos, contemplative.]
I should be able to take it from here, if you'd rather take shelter.
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[She turns back to give Akechi a concerted gaze. She thinks it would be safer if everyone stuck together but...]
If you want to keep fighting, you can get out here. I just think it would be better for everyone if we all kept each other safe.
I'm also not about to tell you what to do, though... only... do be careful, whichever you choose? You helped me out a lot and I'd rather not have to go out and bring you back beaten up. Or worse.
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[There's little sense in denying it. He's no longer acting the part of a "Detective Prince." He's more true to himself, and yet...
He doesn't immediately leave the car. He'd like to say he can take care of himself but, annoyingly, he has limited abilities and even more limited resources. He can't act too carelessly...]
You're proposing that we stick together and seek out others, correct? It's not a terrible idea.
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[Still.] I'm glad you decided to stay with me. And keep me alive. My name is Pomni. Well, it's not really, but I can't remember my real one.
What's yours?
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[He touches his chin, curiosity piqued. Technically speaking, amnesia in the strictest, medical sense differs from how it's often depicted in the media, but it's not as though he can really dispute it after everything he experienced in the Metaverse.
Well then.]
At any rate, I'm Goro Akechi. Most simply call me Akechi.
[Granted, that is in part due to the culture he originates from, but best to keep it straightforward.]
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[But honestly not something worth getting into. Not that there was anything she could do about it, anyway.]
Akechi, huh? That's a Japanese name? [A bit presumptuous, perhaps, but she's familiar enough with Japanese conventions.]
[Meanwhile, Pomni starts the vehicle up, casually ambling over to where they saw the people starting to gather.]
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[Given his encounter with Sanada earlier, the year seems relevant.
He watches her to gauge her reaction, occasionally peering out the window for signs of hostiles. Best not to get too complacent, after all.]
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We're not going to come across Oda Nobunaga riding in a horse-pulled chariot are we?
[At this point, she wouldn't be that surprised...]
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Oda Nobunaga would be quite a sight, but I had a more mild example. Someone from my reality, back around 2009.
[Still, there's something to be said about humor in a situation like this, amplified by the dangers outside.]
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But, hey... you wouldn't happen to have ran into a doll person with red yarn hair, a ribbon with a drama mask, a giant king chess piece with floating hands, or a person that looked like they were put together by toy pieces?
[No need to ask for a purple rabbit boy. He can buzz off.]
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Ultimately, he shakes his head.]
I can't say I have, but if nothing else, they sound as though they'd stick out in a crowd.
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So, uh... I don't mean any offense, but you wouldn't happen to know if you are a PC, would you?
[A bit of a strange question, but how he answers would help clarify what that meant for him.]
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[Hmm... Akechi is far from a gamer, but you talk to people and observe their habits enough, and it isn't terribly hard to read between the lines.
Not to mention, Oracle's quite fond of her gaming jargon.]
So, a player in a video game, then?
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[Not wanting to accidentally induce an existential crisis in the case Akechi was some sort of overpowered NPC guardian or something.]
But in this case it would be someone who is a player playing a character, instead of a computer doing it.
If that doesn't make sense, don't worry about it.
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She already mentioned that she didn't remember her real name. She seemed familiar with some form of pop culture, between those "Stands" she mentioned earlier and now this...
His brow creases, and he folds his arms.]
Correct me if I'm off base here, but are you some sort of isekai protagonist?
[...Look, it's the closest thing he can think of.]
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[She doesn't... quite answer that, drawing away and pouting as she makes a turn around some decrepit truck trailers.]
Well... I wouldn't dress up like this on purpose...
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[It's all starting to come together, and Akechi hums to himself, lips pulled into a thin line.]
Then by player characters, I can only assume that you've lived through the virtual reality subgenre of isekai, as opposed to a more traditional fantasy as seen in the genre's earlier days.
[That's understandable enough, but then something clicks, and Akechi winces. His palm soon covers his face.]
...Then again, I suppose we're all isekai protagonists now.
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Not that I've really met any of them... but if you go around assuming people are PCs when they're NPCs... [Her recollection returns to a certain gummy-based crocodilian...] ...bad things happen.
And, uh, for what it's worth, I'm sorry that you've found your way into this digital hell.
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[Sorry, Pomni, but he can't help but prod a little. A tiny smirk even returns to his lips.]
Of course, you still retain what I assume to be your player avatar, and the censorship I presume is an aspect of the simulation, but we know too little about this world to say with certainty.
[...]
Though I suppose we shouldn't assume there are no others in this world who could broaden our understanding.
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So, what you're telling me is that you're entirely okay with being in a post-apocalyptic car lot with little signs of civilization and you're okay with fighting off monsters that attack when the moon comes out?
...yeah, I think I'm going to stick with the idea that this is all just some sort of game in a simulated world.
[Whether or not Akechi was an NPC or not, she couldn't help but be exasperated by how nonchalant he was being about all of this.]
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1/2
2/2 tw: mental instability(?)
OH NO, POOR POMNI...
She's trying her best and her best is suffering ;w;
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