One of the new arrivals stands just outside the garage, a man in a gray and black suit splashed with orange across the back of his cloak, with vividly crimson hair and eyes to match, watching the sky as if he'd never seen it before.
As if he hadn't seen any of this before. Flying rocks and hovering items might be strange to anyone, but even the occasional thorny bush and struggling plant is regarded with the same puzzled wonder, struggling to connect any of it to something he already knows.
Part of him remembers similar things. This is a cactus (and don't touch it), that is a tire iron. Those things over there are big rigs--
Slowly, Heat turns towards the convoy, eyeing it with speculative distaste, rolling a key across his knuckles like a coin. "Not really what I thought Nirvana would be like."
Paradise is floating rocks and big trucks, apparently.
Who knew.
Start Up
Heat has found the vehicle the key goes to, a sturdy looking (jeep) vehicle that looked terribly unsuited for strapping a gun to, but after staring at it for a long, solid silent minute of pure, obvious disgust, has gone scouring through the other vehicles for something he can use. The low growl of "I don't think so," is the only thing he says as he stalks back into the graveyard of vehicles.
The (jeep) vehicle sits where he found it, a little battered and with a cracked windshield, a cheery vibrant cherry red.
Red is not acceptable.
Every item Heat brings back is some shade of orange, gray or black, the driver's seat torn out and replaced with one from another vehicle in more appropriate colors, a battered orange tarp slung across the roof and down the side and literally nailed into place with a wrench of all things and a handful of rusty nails. While it's obvious he's not quite sure what he's after besides color, someone may have a better idea that maybe a can of paint might work better than ... this.
Hospital (tw: gore, cannibalism(?))
There's another monster lurking in the hospital, a heavily muscled red and gold brute of a predator with two eyeless, shark-teeth filled heads chasing down anything that moves and isn't obviously human with relentless, ravenous drive. The only thing that evades the hunt are things that happen to be splashed in orange - just in case - and obviously human-looking things.
Ravenous is the keyword. There's angry hissing and growling whenever a monster simply disappears into bits of energy, but when a corpse actually lingers, it's torn into with voracious glee and no mind for neatness or manners. It doesn't matter what the monster is apparently even made of as cyborg monstrosities disappear down the twin gullets as easily as something made purely of flesh and bone.
And this thing's eaten more than a few. Where's it all going?
It's still prowling for more, little subtle about its stalking through the hospital's halls and rooms. Anyone inhuman will do, nearly. Whether or not this place is Nirvana, at least there's plenty of food.
Hospital: The Right Colors
On the off chance it encounters someone wearing that one special significant color of Orange, the demon's hunt pauses only briefly. Who knows how many different people from other Tribes went with them, and if they knew enough to wear Embryon's colors, then .. fine, they'd be treated like comrades. And comrades didn't let comrades go hungry. "You eat yet?" Its voices echo through two distorted mouths, distinctly masculine and easily understood for all the rumbling growl to it.
Heat | Digital Devil Saga
One of the new arrivals stands just outside the garage, a man in a gray and black suit splashed with orange across the back of his cloak, with vividly crimson hair and eyes to match, watching the sky as if he'd never seen it before.
As if he hadn't seen any of this before. Flying rocks and hovering items might be strange to anyone, but even the occasional thorny bush and struggling plant is regarded with the same puzzled wonder, struggling to connect any of it to something he already knows.
Part of him remembers similar things. This is a cactus (and don't touch it), that is a tire iron. Those things over there are big rigs--
Slowly, Heat turns towards the convoy, eyeing it with speculative distaste, rolling a key across his knuckles like a coin. "Not really what I thought Nirvana would be like."
Paradise is floating rocks and big trucks, apparently.
Who knew.
Start Up
Heat has found the vehicle the key goes to, a sturdy looking (jeep) vehicle that looked terribly unsuited for strapping a gun to, but after staring at it for a long, solid silent minute of pure, obvious disgust, has gone scouring through the other vehicles for something he can use. The low growl of "I don't think so," is the only thing he says as he stalks back into the graveyard of vehicles.
The (jeep) vehicle sits where he found it, a little battered and with a cracked windshield, a cheery vibrant cherry red.
Red is not acceptable.
Every item Heat brings back is some shade of orange, gray or black, the driver's seat torn out and replaced with one from another vehicle in more appropriate colors, a battered orange tarp slung across the roof and down the side and literally nailed into place with a wrench of all things and a handful of rusty nails. While it's obvious he's not quite sure what he's after besides color, someone may have a better idea that maybe a can of paint might work better than ... this.
Hospital (tw: gore, cannibalism(?))
There's another monster lurking in the hospital, a heavily muscled red and gold brute of a predator with two eyeless, shark-teeth filled heads chasing down anything that moves and isn't obviously human with relentless, ravenous drive. The only thing that evades the hunt are things that happen to be splashed in orange - just in case - and obviously human-looking things.
Ravenous is the keyword. There's angry hissing and growling whenever a monster simply disappears into bits of energy, but when a corpse actually lingers, it's torn into with voracious glee and no mind for neatness or manners. It doesn't matter what the monster is apparently even made of as cyborg monstrosities disappear down the twin gullets as easily as something made purely of flesh and bone.
And this thing's eaten more than a few. Where's it all going?
It's still prowling for more, little subtle about its stalking through the hospital's halls and rooms. Anyone inhuman will do, nearly. Whether or not this place is Nirvana, at least there's plenty of food.
Hospital: The Right Colors
On the off chance it encounters someone wearing that one special significant color of Orange, the demon's hunt pauses only briefly. Who knows how many different people from other Tribes went with them, and if they knew enough to wear Embryon's colors, then .. fine, they'd be treated like comrades. And comrades didn't let comrades go hungry. "You eat yet?" Its voices echo through two distorted mouths, distinctly masculine and easily understood for all the rumbling growl to it.