monstertruckers: (Default)
monstertruckers ([personal profile] monstertruckers) wrote in [community profile] memestertrucks2025-01-01 12:01 am
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JANUARY TDM




((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










bufudine: (Default)

[personal profile] bufudine 2025-01-09 03:59 am (UTC)(link)
[Once the fighting is finished Serph reverts to his human form, glowing blue lines spreading over the demon as his shape shifts and shrinks to a man of average height. The glowing lines retract into the mark on his face, pulsing before fading to their usual black. The mild injuries he sustained persist but his combat wear is not nearly as bloodied as one would expect after how up close and personal he'd gotten. By outward appearance, the transformation doesn't seem particularly painful; it is fluid, practiced, as normal as putting on a different set of clothing.

He asks directly-]


What are you?

[Obviously not a human; he's quite sure humans can't do that. The closest thing he can think of is the mechanical guards of the Karma Temple. But those were automatons, mere extensions of the Temple's will without thought of their own.]
itdoesntlikeyou: (sheer disgust)

[personal profile] itdoesntlikeyou 2025-01-09 04:25 am (UTC)(link)
[So the change is reversible - It could maybe have guessed from the man's lack of surprise at the initial transformation and the ease with which he spoke, but seeing it confirmed is good, and the act of talking to something human-shaped instead of with knives in his arms is helpful. Which means SecUnit doesn't stare directly at Serph any more, but somewhere off to the side of his face.

It does, however, bristle at the question, going stiff and stony. Well that's fucking rude.

But also... interesting. Most people who see it fight take one look and go 'That's a SecUnit,' if they don't just try and escape. Not to know... It's not like it didn't realize something was up already, but it doesn't know how to respond to that question with anything but the truth. It's sizing Serph up as it answers. ]


A SecUnit. What are you?

[Fair's fair, from the pointed tone it takes in asking the question in return.]
bufudine: (roger that :|)

[personal profile] bufudine 2025-01-09 04:39 am (UTC)(link)
[Well that tells him absolutely nothing at all. Serph's not the most expressive of people at the best of times, but there's definitely a slight furrow to his brow at the response. The hell is a SecUnit?

It takes a beat longer than what would probably be expected for him answer a question like that. He is a lot of things and his ultimate answer -- he is himself -- would be inadequate and not particularly helpful.

Unbothered by the sudden lack of eye-contact or the tone, Serph replies in a calm and even tone.]


An AI, now human.
itdoesntlikeyou: (headache)

[personal profile] itdoesntlikeyou 2025-01-09 04:53 am (UTC)(link)
It doesn't work like that.

[SecUnit snaps its response to that immediately, sounding surprisingly indignant - and suddenly very talkative. Truly, this is the most agitated it's been, even considering the tension of their first impression.]

Who would want to be human, anyway? And you're not a human just if they make you into a human-form bot. [Its eyes narrow.] Or did they transplant an AI into a construct? [From its tone, it considers that to be the worst of both worlds.]
bufudine: (Default)

[personal profile] bufudine 2025-01-09 05:14 am (UTC)(link)
[Serph tilts his head at the surprising surge in emotion.

Who would want to be human, anyway? They all did, at least all of his remaining comrades who made it out of the Junkyard. They damn well couldn't go back to that empty, unfeeling existence, even though it meant they had to experience suffering. If that is what it took to experience joy, they would go through that hell again and again.

Serph doesn't know what a bot is but he is flesh and bone and data, just like everyone else in the world.]


They wanted to put us into microchips. Implanted into soldiers.

[Serph shakes his head.]

We tore open the gates to Nirvana and left our simulation. This body is mine.

[While Serph's even tone doesn't change for most of his speech, there is a vehement determination in the final statement. If there's one thing he's certain of now, it's that no matter the complicated circumstances of his creation, he is no longer that person. His mind and body have since been cleaved in half, but he is still him.]
itdoesntlikeyou: (processing)

[personal profile] itdoesntlikeyou 2025-01-09 05:34 am (UTC)(link)
[The agitation only grows, the SecUnit breaking away to pace exactly three steps away. Then it turns back to stare at Serph, overcoming the aversion with a piercing stare as it sends out a fruitless ping for the first time in Serph's presence - a ping that does nothing. It hasn't been able to access anything since it got here.]

That's a construct. Human neural tissue integrated with technology. For the purpose of combat. Or security. Doing it with an AI is - [The dots are there to connect, but SecUnit doesn't linger on it. Was that how it was made? All the memory wipes make that impossible to figure, and the last thing it wants to think about right now. It wishes there were more of the hostile fauna here, actually. Shooting something right about now would be great.]

You went rogue.
bufudine: (come with me :|)

[personal profile] bufudine 2025-01-09 05:49 am (UTC)(link)
[It's the first time he's heard the phrase, 'went rogue', but somehow... yes, that sounds correct. His eyes narrow just a fraction.]

I didn't feel like obeying the laws that ruled us.

[Still... with one hand, he gestures to his body.]

This is flesh and blood. No technology.

[If the Atma virus could even be considered technology when its potential exists in all humans. But he does not have a body of steel or any sort of cybernetic or electronic enhancement, he would not be able to respond to the ping even if it were working.]

What are you? [The question bears repeating. He suspects this may anger his conversation partner, but he presses on anyway.] A construct?
Edited (whoops phrasing) 2025-01-09 06:34 (UTC)
itdoesntlikeyou: (named murder)

[personal profile] itdoesntlikeyou 2025-01-09 11:31 pm (UTC)(link)
[The wariness is back. It's not as overt as it was the first time, when Serph turned into a creature with a whole lot of teeth and swords arms, and SecUnit hasn't pulled out the guns in its arms just yet, but it watches Serph carefully. And skeptically. It might not say anything but it's wary of the concept of technological data being fitted seamlessly into organic 'hardware'.]

SecUnits are constructs.

[A reluctant admission. More important - ]

What were those laws?

[There are some directives that this SecUnit can't abide by, and some it can't - "I want to kill my clients" is - dangerous. Not automatically a reason for attack, but didn't feel like covers a lot of ground, from the sympathetic to the cartoonishly evil.]
bufudine: (Default)

[personal profile] bufudine 2025-01-10 02:20 am (UTC)(link)
[Human neural tissue integrated with technology... That explains the guns for arms.

Serph considers how to answer the question, gaze sliding to the corpses they had left behind. Despite the presence of Pisaca, he isn't entirely certain Atma exist here, and he has the feeling he's being sized up.

In the end, he chooses the most straightforward one, the one he objected to most.]


Devour the weak.
itdoesntlikeyou: (screens)

[personal profile] itdoesntlikeyou 2025-01-10 06:08 am (UTC)(link)
[It explains a whole host of little details about the SecUnit, if anyone takes the time for a close examination, the kind it usually does its best to discourage. There's a port at the back of its neck, usually hidden by its hooded jacket, other glimpses of synthetics around shoulders, integrated with its neck, almost entirely composing its legs.

There's a reason it dresses to cover skin.

'Devour' is a choice of words - considering that SecUnit saw those teeth on Varuna, there must be the inkling of suspicion. It doesn't declare the suspicion outright, but the wariness continues.]


What do you do instead?
bufudine: (don't say that... :|)

[personal profile] bufudine 2025-01-10 06:50 am (UTC)(link)
[Varuna is still hungry, not helped by the blood and corpses they had made of the hostile creatures here, but SecUnit doesn't need to know that.]

Lead my comrades to Nirvana.

[A beat before he amends.]

The real Nirvana, a land without fighting.
itdoesntlikeyou: (that was weird)

[personal profile] itdoesntlikeyou 2025-01-10 04:13 pm (UTC)(link)
[It definitely does not need to, not when approximately everything about this day is making its threat assessment spike. Even its wonky risk assessment is getting in on the message that 'hey this is bad', and that's usually just fine with the terrible situations it gets itself into. Paranoia and the SecUnit are old friends.

It doesn't help when Serph says something that entirely abstract, and yet naive. It knows humans fight over a lot of stupid idealistic things. A land without fighting sounds like - Preservation, maybe.

Preservation would probably love to adopt this weird fucking AI-turned-something, not quite fellow murderbot.]


Fine. As long as you didn't do it to 'kill all the humans,' or something stupid.
bufudine: (hey. a naked girl :|)

[personal profile] bufudine 2025-01-10 06:25 pm (UTC)(link)
[That gets an amused look, the corner of of Serph's curling up into the smallest of smiles. Does he pass the test?]

There's no point in hating what they did to us.

[As far he's concerned, humans, AI, there isn't really any difference between them.

Well. He isn't exactly gonna scarf down the alligators in front of SecUnit right after he's convinced it that he's okay (probably). Besides, there's far too many corpses for just he alone and he's already eaten a pisaca or two, though of course that doesn't really stop the hunger from being his constant companion. And since he considers this conversation having come to a logical conclusion and truce, he turns his gaze away to other parts of the Convoy.]


Let's check the other areas.

[There could be more of the creatures elsewhere and it would be better to work together.]
Edited 2025-01-10 18:37 (UTC)
itdoesntlikeyou: (headache)

[personal profile] itdoesntlikeyou 2025-01-11 12:28 am (UTC)(link)
[To be determined. (It's been shot in the back before, literally and metaphorically). It doesn't trust bots or constructs just because they're not human - once it had told a bot (ART, whose assholish commentary it's definitely not missing at all) that they couldn't trust each other because of the things humans make them do to each other.

But if they're both rogues... they can't trust each other because of what they might do, instead. and Murderbot isn't sure if that's better.

Still - common cause and a truce are better than nothing, for now. If it can put up with saving a Corporate manager's life, it can put up with a fellow rational rogue. And speaking of - it nods, the guns once again emerging from its forearms.]


... ID?
bufudine: (shorty :|)

[personal profile] bufudine 2025-01-11 09:38 am (UTC)(link)
[He doesn't yet transform, preferring to stay human until absolutely necessary. A slow blink.]

Serph.

[Just Serph. No additional niceties like, "It's a pleasure to meet you." He tilts his head, silently asking the same of his companion.]
itdoesntlikeyou: (network)

[personal profile] itdoesntlikeyou 2025-01-12 05:25 pm (UTC)(link)
[It could give its identifier, probably - the hardcoded feed address that identifies it in interaction with other bots. But Serph keeps talking about himself as human, whatever the fuck that's about, and more practically, the alphanumeric string is inconvenient to recite. The last thing it wants is to give that and instead end up with some sort of nickname.

So - other option it is.]


SecUnit works.
bufudine: (Default)

[personal profile] bufudine 2025-01-12 11:59 pm (UTC)(link)
[SecUnit? It had used that term to define what it was, so he doesn't think that is a name so much as a descriptor. But their brief conversation had revealed that it didn't seem to like the idea of being human.

Strange, but alright.

If that is how it wishes to be addressed, then SecUnit it is. Serph nods in acknowledgement before striding forward, leading the way.]

[ooc: and this seems like a good stopping point for the thread :>]