MARCH TDM

[monstertruckers]

code

After tumbling through shadow you find yourself in a shrouded, ruined garage. It’s full of shattered windows and broken mechanical equipment, with all sorts of sharp edges to watch out for. Between that are strange symbols scrawled into the ground. Outside is cloudy weather and the beginnings of a storm flickering and rumbling.

Beyond the rundown garage is a rundown gas station surrounded by rolling, grassy hills. Close by is a Convoy of vehicles, either parked or driving up to station.

01: SUMMONING CIRCLE

This time the summoning circle and car garage is attached to retro diner, and an old wind turbine, barely still spinning and providing fading power. There’s also a broken radio playing a message about Nirvana and imploring people to head north. In fact, there’s a large amount of broken electric equipment in here and spitting sparks.

A fan circles overhead, stirring those sparks and creating a breeze. Trails of paper are attached to the fan, spinning lazily about. If Drifters choose, they can easily retrieve those paper talismans with little more than a slight static shock. While the paper is tattered and smeared with ink and blood, the following can be made out: “Broken in two […] Nothing to lose-“ “Moon mourns, call her down, ease her pain-“ “Need […] Better vessels from afar. Stronger souls-“ “Imbue with moon sigils, Give blessings of moon, share her pain. Put the ritual right.”

Hard to say what that all means, but it seems to have something to do with the summoning circle here. And there’s lingering power crackling through the building. The sort that makes the lights flash and flicker… And line up eerily with flashes of thunder on the horizon.

02: START UP

New arrivals will have a similar experience to before; a Convoy waiting outside for them, and a collection of vehicles, one of which feels like it belongs to them. The key to the vehicle may already be in the ignition, on the dashboard… It may have even been on their person, ever since they woke up in that garage. Either way, Drifters 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 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.

03: STORM WARNING

There’s something odd in the sky; it shifts between a dark cloud, and a collection of birds. As the thing draws closer, it clearly becomes a mix of both. Car-sized, dark feathered birds and skeletal avians fly in a thundering flock, and turn the sky stormy in their wake. That alone is bad… But what’s worse is how the shiny chrome of the Convoy and vehicles draws the birds. As they dive towards the ground to snatch at the shiny metal, they pull the storm and bring a tornado with them. The Convoy does its best to anchor to the ground, but lighter vehicles and Drifters might not be so lucky.

The garage and diner takes it worst of all: the electric devices start spitting sparks and can even act as homing beacons for lightning strikes if a Drifter with electric abilities gets too close to them. Any remaining, intact windows shatter as the storm winds pick up, pelting Drifters with razor shards. And water starts pouring in, further shorting electric equipment and soaking anyone to the bone. There’s even a strange droning, siren like noise to warn about the storm and cut into one’s hearing. It’s difficult conditions for anyone caught up in the blow-out.

04: WEATHERING

Once the main force of the storm hits, the following happens:
Diversion: Those with Fast cars can drive away from the station and divert the birds. They’ll want a second Drifter to come along; either to snipe at the pursuing birds, or keep eyes on the terrain! Eventually the birds will tire or get culled enough that the storm disperses.
Updraft: There is the risk of getting swept up in the tornado winds. Damage, injuries… And a particular quirk this storm has. Drifters who spend more than a minute in the storm winds will find that they begin to take on traits from the Harpy monster. These traits increase in potency if the Drifter experiences hunger or violence. As the weather clears and days become calmer, the traits fade.
Downburst: If Drifters get slammed into the ground by the storm, or the dark birds flying about. They may also find themselves drenched with rain. Any injury they take mends quickly, but is replaced with scales, as the Drifters begin to resemble a Naga monster. These changes grow worse if they tell lies, but disperse with the storm.
BIRDS: The birds themselves are vicious: those afflicted with Naga traits are seen as prey, while Harpies are seen as rivals. The birds are deadly, but also clumsy if forced to the ground. The screens on the Convoy recommend crippling the wings before finishing the bird off on the ground.

04: MONSTER SHIFT, NAGA

This month, Drifters will have access to the serpentine Naga. On top of all Naga species traits being available, the following occurs:
+Cold Blooded: the rain and storms can potentially make Naga slow and sluggish, or inclined to sleep or seek out other heat sources to gain energy; this includes basking in body heat from others!
+Water Divert: With their water shaping, Naga can divert falling rain and even ground saturation to make the area or other Drifters more dry. They can also concentrate water into different areas, and can also change water into mist or ice.
+Blue shift: the scales of Naga become more vibrantly blue, or a strange mottled combination of blue and stormy gray, the more intense the rains become. These scale colors can also reflect their moods.
+Extra arms that are painful and disorienting to grow, and can result in coordination issues.
+Scale Pains: Pain and discomfort when scales grow in, as well as fangs or talons!
+Water glide: during floods from the rains, Naga find they can easily traverse deep water as though they were simply walking (or slithering) across it.
+Thermal vision, making it easy to track others in the middle of storms. Vision may also become disorienting, and eyes become slitted.

04: MONSTER SHIFT, HARPY

The storm will bring a second monster this month, in the form of Harpy. On top of all Harpy species traits being active, the following occurs:
+Storm Rider: high agility and capable of flying through the storm winds without hindrance. Even tornadoes can be mastered!
+Feather pains: itching, or full pain when growing feathers or wings. Talons may also be painful when growing from fingers or from feet.
+Wind Affinity: able to shape wind, including diverting the worst of the storm winds, or summon and focus wind into razors.
+Warbling Voice: words may waver and slip into something more songlike, or even a damaging sonic scream if emotions are heightened.
+Height Call: a need to get higher into the air, whether through perching on buildings or the convoy, or through flight. A sense of euphoria as they go higher.
+Nest Building: a compulsion to create a nest out of spare and soft objects, and feeling more safe inside that space.
+Heightened vision like a bird of prey, able to pick out details even at great distance. This may be disorienting at first, as vision becomes telescopic.

05: RAIN, SHINE, OR SALVAGE

Upon culling enough birds, the storm disperses. The monster avians dissolve as they drop into streams of energy, feeding into Drifter Sigils and providing limited healing. And handful remain intact when they hit the ground and can be harvested for meat, feathers, and possibly even talons.

There is one extra problem, in the form of falling debris. After being pulled up into the sky, wreckage (and possibly stray Drifters) are going to drop back down. It’s advised to look out for falling objects and people. It might be possible to salvage something in the form of scrap metal for any vehicle repairs, but such a task requires two.

06: STORM SHOT

The storm can be dispersed in one of two ways. One is waiting the storm out. The second is a battered collection of machines melted into the roof of the garage and gas station. When touched they burn the hands of Drifters, but also fire a jolt of lightning into the storm. One shot lessens the effects of the storm, repeated shots completely disperses the weather.

In the aftermath of the storm, something different rains from the sky in the form of glowing, quicksilver feathers. These feathers can suppress one avian or serpentine trait for a month, and can also drain away any Naga or Harpy changes from the event completely.

Alternately, the feathers will allow Drifters to temporarily access flight for one day. Doing so completely robs the feather of its magic: only one effect can be chosen from a feather.

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.

Windy Days: Preceding the storm are gales of strong winds, enough to stagger Drifters or send them staggering into other people or other vehicles.

Diner Is Served: While the retro diner attached to the garage has only limited food stores, curiously there is a respectable amount of cooking equipment that can be plundered. Portable stoves, pots and pans, spoons, and the like are all available for the taking.

Fading Storm: In the aftermath of the storm, the garage and diner look like they’re on their last legs, barely held up by their shelving. Anyone who wants to try salvaging had better move fast and carefully, before the entire thing comes crashing down.


NAVIGATION || RESERVES || APPLICATIONS

Comments

[coffinturk]

Put that height to good use, friend. And Vincent somehow fits himself through the window without leaving even a flap of cloak to flutter in the wind. It's fine they're big enough and he's skinny enough under all those layers.

He immediately braced himself in the cab and started reloading the moon clips that he'd emptied. The former Turk won't complain about the ride if that's any consolation.

"Well, thought I'd come in and ask if you wanted to change places once we're far enough away. Or we can both go...." skiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiid The man sticks his arm out the window, gun first as one of the harpies tries to take advantage of the brief partial loss of control.

Two shots to the face and its negative life choices catch up to it.

"....go out there together. Your call."

[firstsoldier]

Changing places meant shuffling around in the cab unless they stopped, and the former was going to be distinctly awkward. The latter..

That might be easier. Based on the current displays of monster-killing violence Vincent's able to hold his own in a fight, which is ..good enough for Sephiroth, who begins a patient, if high-speed hunt for a better location to confront the flock of angry, hungry avians. The top of the next rise will do, giving a decent view not only of the birds, but the surrounding area and, a short distance away, the rest stop they'd just left.

"It's been a little while since I regularly fought with a gunman in range." He never raises his voice, but he's still easily audible over the roar of the engine as it claws its way up the rise and then slides to a sudden stop on damp grass and loose stone at the top. It's been ...

... Since Lucia.

.. Later. Now there's monsters to deal with, and those he can contend with easily, stepping from the truck with confident grace - and the sword's back, as soon as he's free of the vehicle. "But the fewer remain, the safer those at the station will be. Do you have enough ammunition?" As fast as the truck was, the avian monsters are airborne, and they've got mere seconds before the creatures arrive. The longsword is raised with all apparent cal assurance, in a ready stance he's used all his life - and will even after his death.

[coffinturk]

Vincent doesn't prompt a verbal answer. Since Sephiroth isn't asking him to take over the wheel while diving out of the truck, he's presuming that the sudden scanning of their surroundings means they're both getting out.

"Saw you fight. I won't be in your way."

This is said with one hundred percent assured conviction. ....And just as surely he's talking about the initial breakout of the conflict with the storm. Given his acrobatics on top of the moving truck? Vincent is not just speaking fiction.

Ammunition though. There's a calculation going on in the back of his head, counting shots fired, bullets on hand. Reserve weapon... hm.

"I'd feel better if my materia worked." Would it be any surprise at this point? The gun has been out in his hand for several minutes, besides the earlier observations. And you can't miss the configuration even if the spheres are dulled in color.

"...I'll aim to cripple the ones out of your range. Bring them down to earth." There's a short pause as another rain of ice and bladed feather collide with the vehicle though the blow is glancing.

"...Not all of them can do that. I'll focus on those." They're bound to stay out of range once they realize what happens when they encounter Masamune and the silver-haired SOLDIER.

[firstsoldier]

"Mine is also inert." Eight gleaming orbs, entirely useless; he'd tested them all. It's troublesome but not world ending, he's gotten by without them before. Though it was becoming more and more likely they're not somewhere he knows, that Vincent also has materia isn't a surprise. Everyone did. Everyone sold it, so why not?

Sephiroth's range is absolutely ridiculous for a melee fighter, especially when he could jump considerable heights easily, but if there's no need to go to such lengths, he's going to save a bit of energy in case there's other, bigger, nastier things following these in the storm.

There's not a lot being said but not a lot needed to, Vincent clearly understood his role here and he appreciated that. The casters needed to be brought down first, and as soon as gunfire rings out he moves to intercept - it doesn't matter if they even get a chance to hit the ground, their earlier 'prey' quick to catch up and mercilessly cut them down.

It's fine, they're not people.

It does mean that the hungry flock's theoretical food is back out in the open, somehow aware he is, for the time being, on the menu under 'Delicious Naga', and several reorient quickly from shiny truck to tasty snack.

somethingsomething meme about faster switching to secondary weapon

[coffinturk]

The truck was a good shield. It was going to get more battered by the time all of this was done, but without any restore materia, no alchemical potions, better the vehicle and walk back than torn, frozen flesh and broken bones.

Still, Vincent seems a difficult target to hit. And his aim is to take out the spell casters. The revolver first targets those waiting for him to exit the vehicle; because he needs a moment to position.

The second weapon is by all accounts a rifle; perhaps a little dated in this time period and even for the time of Sephiroth's own childhood. And yet it's gleaming and cared for as one might expect any prized possession to be.

One can adequately argue that Vincent makes himself vulnerable in being so still as he lines up for careful shots, sighting and then opening fire upon the ice-flinging avians of the flock. He doesn't try for head shots except a time or two when it's certain or when it's necessary to interrupt a spell in progress; it is wing joints he takes on, cripples and sends them spiraling to ground.

They can break on the body of the earth or be ended with a sweep or skewer of Masamune. Sephiroth is trusted to act as vanguard in that vital moment. Each shot is precise and not wasted. Vincent could easily rival Lucia in skill as a marksman, however subtle their individual strengths and weaknesses may be if matched up in competition.

Perhaps the only notable difference for now is in the supernatural ease with the gunman's movements. Whether being forced to on the occasional necessity to reposition or as he becomes active in a closer ranged proximity to switch and reload guns, clear the area and start over once again with the rifle.

It's likely the two men will be able to handle the massive flock in time. But with only themselves, without materia, time is what they need and it will be a while yet before the sheer numbers won't allow the avians ample chance to get through their guard.

Offhands are for losers, get in the single weapon game!

[firstsoldier]

Honestly an ex-Turk and a First Class SOLDIER is probably more than this flock can handle. For all that inevitably a stray claw or ice or razor sharp feather might get through, this is what Sephiroth was made for, and he's fast enough to avoid or counter almost everything thrown at him.

Vincent's certainly holding his own just fine too. He knows, if the flock remains on the attack, there's going to be only dead avians to tell of ever being there at all, and as the minutes tick past and the prey does not fall, the smarter of the birds begin to get a better idea that maybe they've bitten off more than they can chew.

Anything that gets into Sephiroth's range dies.

Anything that tries to stay out of that range gets shot down, and subsequently put back into range. Blood and feathers and cooling corpses litter the rolling hillside.

It's a pair of zu that decide to not get closer after one is creased with a bullet that leaves a bloody furrow through feathers but not quite bringing it down, backwinging heavily in the low stormclouds and hissing and snapping in frustrated agitation, not quite out of easy gunshot range but certainly out of Sephiroth's easy reach. And then a third, this one landing to use a fallen corpse as cover from bullets and hide from the bloody edge of the sword.

A fourth wheels away in a flurry of wingbeats. There were easier prey to be found elsewhere, surely.

mebbe say that after u get out of a series installation with 3 subweapons

[coffinturk]

Vincent seems no less deadly.

So many times he got hit, it seemed to be glancing and only because he permitted it and did not waver as he allowed a feather or talon to cut his cheek or ice to score his side or leg and even then it might have been only an illusion. The red cloak whipped in the wind, the dark leather was sturdy and hid a lot. What little of his expression can be seen at any given time never appears affected.

There's a ring of avians in broken bones, blood and feathers layered around him. Perhaps Sephiroth had finished off a few; but most were a result of trying to dive in and finding the Outsider drawn and used to send a bullet through the monster's head.

Or he simply lashed out with the metal claws or armor-clad boot to knock them into the pile before finishing it off.

Honestly, Sephiroth could have probably done this own. Vincent.... might have needed a bit more cover than a beaten up troop transport just as he is now. Though on that count? He could feel he was running out of time. Not the bullets. Something else.

"Tch." The former Turk had meant to down the Zu, not wing it. This is definitively corrected with a subtle adjustment and the crack of a shot... two intended to strike between the eyes.

That's the price of hesitation and lingering around. But the fourth will be allowed to leave, seeing that it turns away from the direction of the Convoy.

The second breaks as well, turning to wing after the fourth after the first crashes into the ground. It did not like its odds, did not enjoy the specter of assured death that rose like a palpable aura. It wasn't just the proof of their skill that lay littered around. Everything about Sephiroth says naga to them, but there's something else underneath.

And that's no less than some growing thing within the dark haired man that fought alongside him. Nothing awaited here but an end.

And... well, that only leaves the third which came to ground and tried to hide behind a pile of corpses. A foolish folly.

but that is my series. mainhand, offhand, three subweapons... LAME. /LAME/.

[firstsoldier]

There certainly were easier targets back at the convoy, but there were at least also, far fewer avians to try to take advantage of that. The crack of gunfire over the howling winds and storm is still sharp and clear, the lingering birds paying the price for their foolishness, and he picks his way with fastidious grace through the corpses, patiently searching for anything still living.

It won't be for long, when found. There's nowhere to hide out here either, the telltale breaths of the hiding avian marking it not another corpse ... yet, but a living target. Its sudden flapping scramble for the sky ends in a single efficient stab that skewers the thing back onto the ground.

Thunder rolls, and with it a new torrent of rain. Beneath his sodden leather jacket, he can feel the slow creep of spreading scales, and turns a speculative eye skyward before turning on one heel to head back for his battered worse for wear truck, blood and rain shaken off Masamune with a casual flick. Had there NOT been this past time fighting not as enemies but tenuous allies, he might strike a terribly ominous figure in the darkness and rain, but there's nothing of stealth in his approach, nor anything that suggests he intended to continue the attack, this time with Vincent as its target.

By his count there's still bullets left, but perhaps not many. "Are you wounded?"

His truck is. The poor thing isn't made for durability anymore.

/comfort there there

[coffinturk]

Scales, huh? Vincent hasn't checked under his clothes, but that doesn't mean he won't have them in the wake of this storm. What with wounds and the Moon's effect... well, for a time anyway.

But what will they be replaced by?

There's at least enough bullets left to reload both his guns before he hides them away. One to holster, the other.... somewhere else, both to protect against unnecessary damp under his cloak. Of course they are made of sterner stuff and a little rain isn't going to impact their performance any. He was watching, but he left the matter of dispatching survivors to the silver haired man.

Vincent's clothes seem capable of repelling water decently enough for now and he has some layers. Yet his hair is soaked and that collar is probably doing the opposite of funneling the rain away from his neck. After a moment's pause to consider the question, he shakes his head.

"Not enough to matter." Gone is the earlier, mild voice that crept with a few words here and there hinting at a dry sense of humor. Vincent's tone has become monotone by comparison with its indifference to the question; though the truth of the matter is that he's trying to keep himself calm. His attention drifts to the truck so he doesn't have to meet Sephiroth's eyes overlong. Though he had certainly been observing him earlier.

"Think it still runs?"

If it doesn't, there's probably enough tears in the canvas top by now that makes it an inadequate shelter to wait out the rest of the storm. At least the windows of the cab still seem intact.

[firstsoldier]

Rightly or wrongly, he takes it at the general unease he caused in most people once they actually see him doing his job. It's a familiar reaction, anything like warmth leeching away to suspicion and neutrality. Sephiroth doesn't question it, he just accepts it. That the true cause is a different form of monster lurking beneath Vincent's skin is ... for now, a mystery. It's always easier to simply blame himself than consider that there might be a different, less familiar explanation.

The scales itched a bit.

The way Vincent moves doesn't suggest serious injury, so he agrees silently with the assessment of 'not enough to matter' and turns instead to his poor battered vehicle. By the time he reaches it to pull the hood up and let the rain blast the hot steel with a bit of coolness, Masamune's once more missing. "I don't see any damage to the engine or battery," is the eventual, soft response. "It won't be comfortable but it should start again. Bad fuel, perhaps."

Or it's not designed for the sort of high RPMs a Fast vehicle can put out, and overheated. By the amount of rising steam, that might be the true cause. "... If you don't mind, I'd like to let it sit for a few." Til the steam stops rising. "The cab's likely to be a bit better than out in the rain."

Vincent might be a stranger, but so long as they're in each other's presence, he felt a bit responsible for the man anyway. Shelter and security for a short time is better than standing in the rain, isn't it?

[coffinturk]

The fact that it's still hot enough to steam so dramatically as the rain hits it goes further to say how good of an idea it would be to take a few minutes before returning. Good, yes. Good. A delay before going back into the crowds of possible allies and innocent lives?

"Sure." Vincent won't argue. Regarding either suggestion. Even if his mood seems to have cooled off in light of the aftermath of witnessing Sephiroth battle in close proximity, the man doesn't appear to mind remaining. In fact there seems to be a touch of relief.

That might not be at the prospect of remaining in the other man's company but he sure doesn't hesitate regarding the suggestion that they stay in the cab and in close proximity where it's going to be dry---

Vincent had walked over and pulled on the handle to open the passenger door. In doing so, he created an egress for the crosswind to sheet the rain further sideways through the entire cab and into his face. As it happens, the angle of the truck had hidden the fact that the birds' attacks shattered the driver side window. If they sit in the cab while the rain and wind are in this particular angle...

"....Back of the truck it is." He'll brazenly check the glove compartment on the hopes there might be something useful to salvage- one can hope? Before closing the cab door and squelching through the rain to the back of the transport.

At least the sides are somewhat intact. It'll definitely be drier. Vincent disappears inside with a light hop and sets about doing what is possible to make an area reasonably more secure from the rain than the cab currently is.

[firstsoldier]

It's those innocent lives that keeps his gaze returning back to the convoy. He could get there on foot in a handful of minutes, but it would mean leaving Vincent behind, and he really doesn't know the shape the man is in. That cloak hides a lot, and the smell of hot engine and monster blood obscures any scent there might have been of more human blood. But he doesn't move like he's injured, so that's.. going to have to do for now.

Sephiroth reaches the door at about the same time Vincent reaches the passenger side, and frowns faintly at the fact that there is no window anymore, his quiet sigh one of very put upon resignation before turning to the back as well. The only thing to be found in the glove compartment is a rain-blurred, illegible map, not particularly helpful, and a little mouse-chewed. The bed of the truck has a couple empty crates, but that too isn't particularly handy as anything but a seat; there's rends in the canvas cover, but not so many where there aren't dry spots to be found, the main target had been the far more shiny and interesting cab.

When he follows into the cargo area, the back is left open and unzipped; some rain might come in, but he wanted to be able to see at least some of their surroundings before a crate is picked by virtue of being nearest. He doesn't say anything right away, Vincent's earlier tension might ease a little if he remains silent, but he does take a minute to try to wring out his hair a bit, the only real nod to his current sodden state.

"There's something unnatural about the storm." When he finally does speak up, wet hair slung across his back again to cross arms over his chest and lean against one of the metal posts, his voice is quiet, audible over the rain and howling wind but not by much. "It's mutating people."

Everyone he'd seen had borne some kind of change when the wind and rain lashed down. But he knew the smell and taste of mako, and it wasn't this.

[coffinturk]

The map is put back. Not useful, not his. Sephiroth will find it if he ever bothers to look later. At least the compartment will remain dry. Probably.

It doesn't matter.

...And yeah. It's better to have an eye on the world outside. The former Turk pokes around the crates for a minute or two to see whether they open easily. What? Does he look like he has a massive, heavy bar of metal to go smashing around to break them open? Bullets are precious.

Having only 'slightly' less hair to worry about may have led Vincent to not bother with the act of trying to dry it. They'll need to go out again soon and the truck's cab's soaked. So.... it's anyone's guess that the reason he's not doing the same as Sephiroth is indifference or catching a glimpse of the other man's actions and feeling a sting of awkwardness over making a similar gesture.

...This isn't helped when he finds his own strut to lean against. Still, this gives Vincent time to study the other man and wonder at the circumstance. It's enough to cause his shoulders to shake a moment in silent laughter. But since there are serious matters to speak of, it will be fleeting.

"...I know." Feathers. Scales. Wounds he took during the fight no longer hurt but they do itch. He's not sure what that means. "Birds brought it." In a way were it. "But there's something else. I don't know. My friend and I found ourselves here just before it hit." A pause.

"You?"

Come to think of it, Vincent isn't sure how long Sephiroth's found himself in this place.

[firstsoldier]

The crates are not sealed by anything particularly troublesome, nails for the wooden ones and nothing at all for the steel except decaying bungee cords. He's content to possibly investigate later, in case now would simply be a distraction lurking surviving monsters might take to strike again from the sky.

Listening is the best he can do. None of them had owl's feathers, their wingbeats had been a loud thunder in the air. But so far it's only the storm, and the whistle of wind through the holes in the canvas.

The shaking draws his attention, but Sephiroth doesn't know Vincent well enough to tell, beneath those shrouding layers of cloth, if it's laughter or something else. Not epilepsy, that's obvious quickly. "Similarly."

Thunder had been on the horizon. "There was.. just enough time to find this truck before the tornado formed." A familiar make and model, in a sea of foreign vehicles he didn't even begin to recognize. "I don't recognize the spell; I was on the western continent, this is not."

Nowhere in Wutai had this much wide open grassy hills, nor the diner better suited for Midgar's aesthetics.

[coffinturk]

It didn't seem to be from pain, no and it settles following the natural flow of the conversation.

"We heard a message. Something about going toward Nirvana." Probably where the group is heading. One couldn't help but notice the convoy had not just been an abandoned train of vehicles; some of those people present had been on the road for a while. The truck though...

"Hrmph. The vehicles are weird." Vincent doesn't say if he means their lack of familiar design, whether he's speaking of their overall appearance and composition or just... the way each of them seemed to have one.

Just for them. Expecting their arrival.

There's a flicker of something akin to realization. Naming the western continent, the younger features. Some things are clicking into place.

"Nothing I knew either. Wasn't a Portal. And... this isn't where I was."

For Vincent Valentine, many parts of the world had undergone drastic change. Not just places that were built up or left to ruin or wiped off the map or literally disappeared. Just stepping out into Nibelheim alone had been a little... off. Thirty years in the proximity of any mako reactor was bound to change the landscape itself. All just a little more dry. A little bit more barren.

Midgar's surrounding wasteland had honestly been shocking. All this goes to say that the former Turk knew there were many places he simply did not recognize any longer and that could have happened here.

But he knew where he had been and where he'd been going. Neither location were a strange diner and garage in the middle of nowhere, with a storm of avian monsters on the horizon.

"Some of those bird monsters I haven't seen before. And like you said, it's not mako."

...Causing the mutations. There's a short pause before Vincent offers another piece of information, delicately chosen.

"My friend also mentioned being somewhere else. But it was something I remembered happening a while ago." More or less in the same sequence as Tifa had hinted.

"...Not what we were last doing."

[firstsoldier]

Not Portal; while the spell was unpredictable and did sometimes open at random, there was a portal, hence the name. It's easy to accept that assessment and dismiss the possibility in the same moment, he'd reached the same conclusion.

On several fronts. He knew what zu were, he knew they didn't travel in large flocks or mixed-species flocks, and they didn't spawn tornados. Sephiroth crosses one leg over the other, gaze turning back to the open end of the truck where rain's still sheeting down, absently running the tip of his tongue over his teeth where he can feel differences.

The changes made him uneasy. Scales he could hide or remove, but what else had changed besides that and his teeth? "New breeds of monster turn up frequently."

Which didn't explain the rest. Vincent's friend, whoever that is, seemed to be in a similar position to Zack, one of them misplaced in time. "That ... fits observation."

He sounds reluctant to agree to that, an undercurrent of disquiet to the low rumble of words. "There's at least one other here with a similar story and I have no reason to disbelieve it." The slow coil of tension unease causes is subtle but there. "With only circumstantial evidence, I believe we may all be outside our expected time and at some point in the future." There's implications to that he doesn't like, the future came with knowing in a few years something happens that drives a perpetually sunny man to outright rage.

"The technology on some of these vehicles is beyond what Shinra is capable of, and it's not new to those cars and trucks." He's not much inclined to ramble at length, by the way the sense of reluctance grows, but Vincent seemed like he might also have a good set of observational skills. "The convoy is likewise advanced, and the decaying devices in the diner seem out of date, borderline antique for where they are, but modern to my experience." Radios, ceiling fans, some vehicles, some machines.

[coffinturk]

"You're not wrong," his companion allows. "Without any signs of mako though..."

Or for that matter, the Lifestream. Was that why everything had a layer of unsettling absence? Or was that just an effect of what else is going on. Strange monsters, mutations, an overwhelming sensation of displacement.

"Wherever or whenever we are," Vincent then continues; the idea of being out of place in time is not going to be questioned. It's very clear that is the case. Between he and Tifa, and then Sephiroth, there's no reason to deny this.

And when might not important. Though it's unlikely the past unless the summoning isn't limited to living people.

Vincent knows the feeling of confronting a world where his modern is antique and what people consider commonplace is often beyond advanced. An impatient 'tch' escapes his throat.

"There's not much we can determine about the where... and when right now. Not until the storm clears." He doesn't like it. Though his stance hasn't shifted much since he settled in, Vincent's gaze does drift to the opening. The storm's clouds and the shadow of the canopy emphasize the unnatural glow of ruby eyes; only momentarily extinguished by a slow blink.

"The radio broadcast mentioned something else. 'You're here? Mostly hu--'." ...Laughable really, to someone in Vincent's circumstances. But to a wider crowd? "What I saw suggests whoever brought us here expected us to experience changes."

Not just because of the storm. But the process of being brought here.

[firstsoldier]

Not the past, too much is familiar but still unrecognizable. Such cars didn't exist twenty, thirty years ago or more. Mechanical chocobos didn't either. "Anyone with the technology to craft that convoy should have basic radar."

A storm like that would surely appear on it! Though what would that many birds look like to doppler?

Mostly human. Carefully he hooks the tip of his tongue behind a folded fang, half pushing it out into the slot between teeth where it should sit were he to try to bite, a thin, needlelike thing better suited to vipers than a human's mouth. Had he not seen nearly everyone else suffering some form of change, he'd ... be more than just uneasy, all of Hojo's tampering and experiments finally coming to fruition-- but no.

It's a common affliction. Vincent's eyes may well be part of those changes; mako glow was inevitably green, like his own.

Not that it helps the scales or the hypodermic fangs, but it's not just him. It's not what's been done to him. He's still.. he's still human. The alarm making his pulse too quick and hands buried in his own arms curled into fists was just illogical reaction. He's fine. He'll be fine. "For better or worse we'll know better than to risk the weather in the future." Though they were going to have to again simply to return to the convoy. One of them will, anyway, and he intended to make certain it was himself. Vincent wouldn't have all of Shinra's wealth and technology applied to making sure HE got back to looking picture perfect. Sephiroth would. "'Mostly' implies this .. might be all we must bear."

He doesn't sound like he believes that much.

[coffinturk]

A mechanical chocobo had been new in Vincent's experience as well. Though somehow he hadn't been surprised that someone tried. But despite never having seen a mechanical version it had provided a sense of familiarity. Well, it could be an illusion but having something grounding, calming, keeps the head clear.

For however long it lasts.

Birds on radar? Suppose that depends on the size, type and volume. The question is just how well equipped the Convoy really is beyond the most basics of salvage. Just at a glance the signs were there that salvage was not just a choice, but a necessity.

Vincent's attention is on Sephiroth again. Does he notice the tension? Clever to have crossed arms and ways to hide the signs of distress. How much practice had the taller man had? All too much.

"I wonder if avoiding the weather will be as easy as that." There's a dry note. Besides the way the storm and the tornadoes tore through the buildings and forced the storm's fury indoors there had been the monsters that came with it.

"...'Mostly' huh? Be nice if that was all there is to it."

It's clear Vincent doesn't believe it at all. To the former Turk, 'mostly' means that no one who came here is as human as they once were. And he takes no comfort in what others will need to come to terms with on that count.

The gunman falls silent. His eyes close, though it's far from a state of relaxation. His hearing is still acute and will be enough. The rain beats on, though the drenching downpour has subsided. Vincent will speak again after a time.

"I don't think we should wait too much longer." Cooling engine aside. And... weather aside. "The sooner we get back, the more information we'll be able to gather about our situation."

There's going to be a lot of cleanup. And there's no reason to think the the convoy will linger any length of time.

[firstsoldier]

Most vehicles are not made to handle tornados. Or buildings. If a window shatters, of course the storm gets in, he's observed that plenty even without tornados being involved. "With what we have access to?"

Unlikely. They still won't be prepared for more tornados, and he's reasonably sure most of those take place in the springtime. They're going into a season for it, not out of season. The issue of future monstering is put aside, there's more pressing things to think about, like having to leave shelter again in order to reach the driver's side so they can get back.

"...Stay here." There's no point in both of them getting soaked ... again, and Vincent didn't strike him as the sort to bother with seatbelts, so remaining where it's more marginally dry is reasonable. He doesn't wait for a response though, he's already out the back and making his way to the cab again, a moment taken to dust off the worst of the glass before sliding onto the wet seat.

[coffinturk]

Vincent is also not one to go 'no I insist'. He'll stay right where he is and the opportunity is a well-hidden relief; it gives him time 'alone' to think over what's happened. Monsters and weather, some strange realm.

Meeting Sephiroth in some form that seems close and yet far from the time of death and madness that drove him to try to achieve godhood.

Though the gunman's head tips forward, it's half as though he simply decided to close his eyes and drop into a resting state rather than acknowledge the war hero's words. He can hear the man opening the truck cab's door and probably the sound of shifting, shattered glass.

....Perhaps he'll help out when they get back.

"Let me know if you spot any more flocks on the way." The faint sound of Vincent's voice is heard. "I'll need to take care of something if the opportunity arises."

Cryptic, but nothing else comes to explain it. And maybe no answer to that mystery will come to light if they don't find anything on the way back. For now anyway.

[firstsoldier]

The path back is anything but smooth but is at least not at the breakneck speed leaving had been, and thus both better and .. worse. Bumps hit slowly are just as jarring as ones hit quickly, and though Sephiroth is avoiding the worst of them, there's still plenty.

If there IS anything noteworthy by way of fighting on the way back, he makes no note of it aloud. There were more coming, that could be seen, but it seemed to him the trajectory suggested it couldn't be intercepted before it reached the convoy. Thus returning to the convoy was the better idea.

But aside from the rumble of the engine and the squeak of shocks and rattling crates, nothing interrupts their return. Whatever Vincent needs to take care of.. opportunity doesn't arise.

[coffinturk]

Vincent could have looked out and he did. But he doesn't question the judgement; at the end of the day, it's best they make it back to the Convoy and he find another ride to go... out.

At least the straight line back is going to give him a chance to find another vehicle, even if it ends up being his own. One way or another, there will be avians that are very sorry to have continued their assault.

When they're back? Vincent makes his way to the ground again, looking none the worse for wear. But well, he's got clothing layers.

"There might be a few things in those crates. Heard something rattling around."

He didn't take a peek; wasn't his stuff. But he at least has the courtesy to walk past the window and mention it to the silver-haired man.

....As a thanks?

"See you around, Sephiroth."

....Is it really any surprise that he knew the name?