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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.”
no subject
He's just talking like... a witty protagonist from one of the particularly silly shows in its archives. (Deadpool's right about the background stuff, though. It's gotten a taste for editing, lately).]
Maybe you're just from a shitty planet.
no subject
[SecUnit's comment about his planet makes Deadpool guffaw.]
Can't argue with that. It's always getting attacked by stuff. Requires so many super heroes just to keep it in one piece.
[Thumbs up! Yay, shitty planets!]
Are you from a good one, then, Future Traveler? Since this looks like a documentary about an apocalypse instead of the Rust Belt on a Tuesday afternoon thirty years after the plants went down to Mexico.
no subject
In its defense - SecUnit considers all planets shitty. But despite that, it's momentarily flummoxed by - well, Deadpool's everything, but the question in particular. It stalls on answering by prowling forward towards said lineup of Mad Max hellscape, peering into cars through the windows.
Where's it from? That's such a human question. It's not used to answering human questions.]
I don't have a planet.
no subject
[Not that Deadpool counts himself among them, mind you. He tries, but he's not quite there yet. He's just a guy who sometimes does good things, and often gets rid of worse guys than himself. He does the ugly stuff that the supes aren't willing to do themselves.]
[For the first time since they've met, Deadpool stands still and the constant yammering snaps off. He tilts his head, watching SecUnit for a moment, and when he speaks up again, his tone is softer, his cadence less manic. For the moment, he almost sounds like a normal person.]
Did something happen to it?
no subject
This probably won't help with Deadpool's impression of the matter, but SecUnit isn't thinking about that, it's too busy feeling uncomfortable about the feelings being directed towards it. Being pitied makes the parts of it covered with organic skin crawl.]
No, I just don't have one.
[Then it catches itself - fuck, but answering the questions it's been asked is such a stupidly hard habit to break.]
It doesn't matter where I'm from, we're stuck in this shitty place with petrofuel junk vehicles.
no subject
All right then, Prickly Pete, I get it. No touching, and no personal questions.
[You know what that means, pal? That means Deadpool is just going to have to overshare harder to compensate.]
You raise a good point; where are we supposed to get gas for these things? Is there a pipeline somewhere? Are they importing gas in from Canada?
[He trots past SecUnit, keeping a respectful distance, heading towards the fuel pumps.]
I'm going to see if these work!
no subject
[Putting in a whole lot of effort here, to prove that the nickname is, maybe not wanted, but certainly accurate. Whatever. For such a nosy human, Deadpool is surprisingly good about boundaries.
Then again, most humans wouldn't voluntarily wear a mask like that one around for fun, so maybe it's... what's the phrase, mutually assured destruction? Something like that. Don't pry if you don't want to get pried in return. So instead SecUnit follows the topic switch, and Deadpool, at the same distance as before.]
Test it how.
no subject
What do you like being called? You can call me Deadpool.
[Asked earnestly, without any hint of teasing. His own name wasn't requested, but given anyway. Now SecUnit knows his name.]
I'm going to prime the pump.
[Heh. Prime the pump. Deadpool chuckles quietly to himself, but he doesn't think SecUnit would get or appreciate the joke, so he keeps it to himself. He takes one of the nozzles off the tank and holds it out, so SecUnit can see it.]
If you've never seen one of these before, here's how they work. This end goes in the car, and then you squeeze this part to make the gas come out.
[Which he does. Nothing happens for a moment or two, and then the nozzle sputters and releases a thin trickle of sand.]
That should not be sand.
no subject
So, when Deadpool asks for what to call it, the response is a lie. In its defense - Deadpool also sounds like 'something to be called, not my actual name.']
Eden.
['Eden' wanders closer to the pump, watching as though it's ready for the entire thing to explode. When the result is instead sand... It's less than impressed.]
Good job.
no subject
[And yes, Deadpool is definitely the superhero name, not the government name. He's told a couple of people here that his real name is Wade Wilson, but SecUnit hasn't gotten that privilege yet. Not that it really matters, Deadpool has never been one for super secret identities so he can go traipsing around town with his bare face hanging out. Number one, he'd never be able to keep up the subterfuge, and number two, his bare face is too distinctive to make it worthwhile.]
Okay, Eden it is. That has a better ring to it than Prickly Pete or 'hey you'.
[Deadpool shakes the nozzle a few times, but all he gets is more sand.]
Eh.
[He shrugs and puts it back.]
Now we know. Although I have no idea how this convoy is supposed to get anywhere if the gas tanks are full of sand.
[He raises an eyebrow at Eden.]
You don't happen to know any wildly efficient future technology way of powering cars with sand and rocks, do you?
no subject
Deadpool is going to have a field day when he finds out about 'Murderbot.'
It doesn't scoff, but given that the nozzle is still just coughing out sand, it turns to survey the pump station, then the collection of vehicles.]
Only if the sand and rocks are also radiation hazards. [Then just to be clear, because sarcasm is fine and all but it doesn't actually want to turn around and be asked to do things like find a way to power ancient vehicles;] No.
Some have to be battery powered. [Right? Surely.]
no subject
[He's taking a breath, ready to launch into a series of excited questions, when Eden tells him that no, it doesn't know how to make power out of radioactive rocks. Then he deflates in disappointment.]
Probably for the best. Radiation doesn't bother me, but the rest of you shouldn't get cancer.
[Batteries, though! That's a good idea! Deadpool walks to the back of one of the cars and bends over to check for a tailpipe.]
Nope, this one uses gas. [He points out the pipe.] See? Gas cars have these, electric ones don't.
[He trots off to check another one.]
no subject
[The way it asks questions, each and every one of them sounds like it's asking against its will - but this time, there's a bit more than the average tinge of 'what the fuck is that supposed to mean' to the way "Eden" phrases that particular one.
It trails Deadpool back this way too, picking the next car over and navigating around to find - another tailpipe, fuck. This place really is in the dark ages.]
tw: cancer talk
[Deadpool turns and flashes Eden a thumbs up.]
I'll be fine, my healing factor keeps it in check, but the rest of you should avoid getting irradiated. Cancer is... not fun.
[He ducks to check another car. A tailpipe, dammit. On to the next one!]
Is it cured in the future?
[There's an odd hint of vulnerable optimism to that question, as much as Deadpool tries to deliver it with his usual rolling jovialism.]
no subject
For example: focus on the healing factor thing. That sounds more important.]
Probably. [That sounds like something it heard on plot points of Med Center Argala.] Some non-corporate government entities care about giving people medical care.
[The SecUnit moves on to another vehicle, checking one, then grimacing and moving on.]