MAY TDM

[monstertruckers]

code

Things are a little stranger than usual at the gas station and garage. Namely that gravity just isn't working as it should. Objects float, pieces of the floor float... Even unlucky new arrivals can also find themselves floating! It's going to be a challenge to get around without any scrapes or scratches... Though at least there's what looks like a hospital nearby? Granted, it's an upside down hospital, but it's better than nothing.

01: SUMMONING CIRCLE

Drifters come to with an odd floating sensation hooked into their stomachs, and instead of laying on the concrete find themselves drifting a foot or two above the floor. An unfortunate few may be stuck on the ceiling. Whether they crash down hard into the floor (and the various vials, daggers, and broken glass scattered about) or remain floating in the air is a coin toss.

Still, it might be best to lend a hand with pulling them back to the ground, and hoping gravity will work as normal in another breath or two.

Once they make their way out, they can see a gas station and garage located in the midst of strange, floating rocks… And an upside down hospital close by, for those who had a rougher landing.

02: START UP

New arrivals will have a similar experience to before; a Convoy waiting 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 the sort of thing that requires two pairs of hands and supplies. The garage can take care of the (sometimes floating) supplies… Now it’s just a matter of finding some extra hands.

And hopefully no one's vehicle has decided to float. But one can never be sure in a place like this.

03: HUSKS AND HAUNTS

The inverted hospital seems to have trouble deciding the exact formation of its hallways, whether the new arrivals should be walking on the ceiling, floors, or walls. But one thing that is certain: this place isn’t entirely deserted. Warnings of “Beware the Husks” have been spray painted on the walls. Metallic bodies line those same halls, some of them broken open. A wet trail leads from the broken Husks to the rafters… Where several odd monsters wait to drop down. Some look like they’ve merged with the hospital equipment, while others look like they’ve been cobbled together from different body parts. And all of them look ready to turn the newcomers into a corpse, or part of a specimen collection.

Strange, malformed chimeric creatures that are Unknown stalk the hallways. Unknowns come in three different colors, red aligned with fire, green with poison, and purple with lightning.

Adding to that are the various screens flickering on, and diagnose new arrivals as infected. The screens declare the infection seems to be contained, but requires further study… And if the monsters aren't enough to worry about, there’s also the restraint systems trying to activate and tie the new arrivals down.

04: TESTING (CW: Needles)

The deeper someone plunges into the hospital, the more the building reacts to them. More defenses are deployed, treating them as thieves or intruders. Traps and monsters alike wait for them, with syringes melded into the forms of attackers, or lining places where someone might step or reach for. The syringes make a quick bite on skin… But it’s only a few minutes later where the effects become clear. Something in those syringes is now in the blood and forcing monster transformations. There might be an antidote amongst the supplies… Or the newcomers might need to rely on each other, in order to stay anchored.

The needles can also force temporary Swarm traits, along with:
+Group Mind: compelled to link thoughts with other Drifters, to share emotions, memories, and achieve cohesion.
+An increasing reliance on telepathy/empathy/etc in place of speech.
+Increasing collectivist mindset. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few; this becomes more evident during high stress situations.
+Compelled to hunt and share their prey with others.
+Gravity Affinity: If possessing wings or the ability to wall climb, may freely hunt/traverse corrupted gravity areas.

05: LONG WAY DOWN

A portion of the gas station breaks away with groan and a rumble. And it is slowly pulled up and up, taking a portion of new comers with it! They (and anyone watching) will need to act fast, as gravity starts to go weird the further they rise. They’ll need to find a way back down, taking any supplies from the now-floating garage that they can grab.

What’s more, they are drifting closer to the broken moon, and that seems to be having a strange effect on those stranded on the new floating ruin. They may start to feel their control fray, and their forms shift, the higher they rise.

In terms of getting back down, there’s a handful of tow lines in the ruin that might work as ropes. There’s also a few pieces of rock that are floating up more slowly, and could work as stairs back down… Or there’s just jumping and falling fifty feet and hoping for the best.

06: PSYCHIC ECHOES

There's one last quirk to this area; a few scattered bits of odd plantlife, and the odd dead brain monster. While these things aren't a threat on their own (beyond being unnerving) they still pack a psychic punch; mainly in the form of temporary psychic abilities.

It's possible that after coming in contact with either plants or corpses, newcomers will find themselves gifted with either empathy (projecting or receiving emotions) telepathy, OR the ability to share their dreams with others, and having their dreams influenced by others in turn. This effect fades in just a day or so, but is still capable of causing mishaps.

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.

Broadcast: The garage contains a few burnt out monitors. But a handful of them are playing a message over and over again on loop, filled with static. It’s a recording of important looking people in lab coats advising people to remain indoors and avoiding all objects falling from the sky. Especially “moon shards.” They insist that they are working to contain and cure the infection, but the safest action is to remain inside.

Warped Air: As seen in Long Way Down, the air overhead has strange warped pockets in it. There seem to be slightly different shards hanging suspended in the air, looking more silvery than the surrounding rocks. Almost like it could have fallen from the broken moon overhead.

Medical supplies: Most of the medical supplies found in the hospital seem to consist of healing salves and potions, a handful of healing herbs, and a few antidotes for poison or sickness. As for reverting transformations… It’s advised that new comers be careful of taking any experimental medicine. It may revert a change. It may also leave them hallucinating nightmares and fears, and they’ll be wanting someone close by to help administer the drug.

NAVIGATION || RESERVES || APPLICATIONS

Comments

Deacon | Fallout 4

[facethefacts]

[Room with a view.]

Everything feels a bit upside-down.

It takes Deacon somewhere between ten seconds and three minutes (who can say) to realize that's because he is upside down. And only because he watches his own hair float away from him and bump off of a stranger before twirling back in his direction, unmarred and still perfectly swept into a pompadour. He scrunches his nose and reaches for it, fitting it back onto his bald head and then attempts to push himself off of the ceiling gracefully.

It's not a bad attempt, but gravity also isn't really working with him right now, so he won't be taking any critiques. He lands on his feet, but a floating shard of glass slices at his arm and he hisses, grabbing at it with his hand immediately.
"Every time I wear white." he mutters in frustration, immediately looking for something to use to dress the wound.


[Make yourself at home.]

"I feel very welcome, here." Deacon says blandly at the flashing images suggesting that he's infected, side-stepping what seems to be a malfunctioning restraint system. His eyebrows rise as he watches it reach for nothing and tangle in itself, then he nods a bit and wanders out to the hall from the medical room he'd just been scavenging.

An unknown creature shambles in his direction, and without hesitation he's aiming a wasteland-patented pipe gun in it's direction, firing a few shots as an appendage attempts sink its poison fangs into him. It coils back and he rushes down the hall, putting some distance between them while he reloads.

"Has that cozy 'feels like home' charm and everything."


[What could go wrong?]

She's seen better days.

Deacon can't explain why it's so important that he right-sides the old girl, but something tells him that she'll start right up for him when he does, and with the way this place is falling apart? He's going to need some serious wheels to get the hell out of here.

"I think we can get her back on her wheels with a chain if we hook it to the frame, I just need someone with a vehicle strong enough to pull it." he yells behind him to any fellow drifters within earshot. And if they're not, psychic echoes might carry the thought futher enough to get their attention.

"Trust me, I've done this before, it'll be fine." he continues, although his mind is distinctly projecting that he has not.

What could go wrong?

[warneverchanged]

Deacon more than likely hears her footsteps before he can see Nora walk up... she's not trying to actually hide them. She pauses near the strangely shaped vehicle, looking it up and down before looking over at him.

"Deacon. What is that?"

[ooc:freaking weinermobile I am dead.]

[facethefacts]

"Deacon?" he scoffs, "Are you talking to me?"

As he stands and turns around, he was expecting someone a little bit different, but doesn't show as much in his expression. He changes his face all the time, so who is he to judge?

"Name's Oscar," he smiles, clearly having taken that right off the side of the vehicle he's so concerned about. "How d'you do?"

[warneverchanged]

She... should have expected that reaction. Once Deacon always Deacon.

"Sorry Oscar. You remind me of someone I know." Let her guess. Mr. Oscar Meyer, hot dog connoisseur of the... wherever they are. She sighs.

"Oh, you know, trying to figure out why I'm here and not back home in the Commonwealth stripping broken cars for scrap." She stops before sliding into a rant about being interrupted. "How about you?"

[facethefacts]

"Must be a handsome guy."

He shrugs, taking note that she hasn't bothered to introduce herself to this supposed stranger, but her continued commentary confirms his suspicions anyway.

"Sounds like you're uniquely skilled for your new position. We'll probably need some scrap to patch my girl up after she took such a tumble." he replies, patting the side of the vehicle with a small frown.

"Me?" he scoffs, "Coping. I'll never hear the end of this."

what could go wrong, 2.0

[androidvictoriam]

"...It's remarkable to have actual real-time evidence that you're lying."

It's drier sarcasm than most people can usually wring out of Danse, but if Deacon were 'most people'...well, that hypothetical is far enough from reality that Danse can't even really fathom it, and he has better things to do than try.

His truck would be ideal for this, and he's not really going to refuse just out of spite, but it feels fair and a bit cathartic to leave Deacon in suspense about that rather than jump immediately in with the offer. It would be more effective if his background thoughts weren't already projecting his logistical consideration about where to get the chain and how best to attach it.

"Are you sure you even want me to? If that thing were mine, I might just cut my losses and leave it."

[facethefacts]

The only thing Deacon acknowledges that statement with is a low hum and an unwavering smile. Danse would call him on his bullshit, but that's part of his charm. It makes him both reliable and also reliably fun to mess with. 'Ole Reliable. That's you.' Deacon thinks loudly, then immediately realizes that he can literally see the other man's mind working, and realizes that Danse can probably see his as well. Oops.

He takes a step forward, pats Danse on the bicep, and then steps past him in the direction where his companion has practically marked for him on a map, just assuming he will follow.

"Aw, come on. She's beautiful. An old-world relic. A little high in sodium, but I won't hold that against her."

[androidvictoriam]

He doesn't know if Deacon means this as a compliment, but Danse can't fathom a way in which it wouldn't be, when reliable is exactly the sort of thing he wants to be--the sort of thing he's been afraid Deacon in particular no longer thinks he is, after the shameful and humiliating display he'd witnessed in that bunker. But that's something he's going to push out of his mind for as long as he can, whether he's aware of how audible his thoughts are or not.

Not even so much easier said than done, either, at that distractingly casual little pat. Two months without his power armor and he still hasn't gotten used to people being able to just touch him as frequently or easily as they've been doing around here...but then, he'd worn that armor for nearly fifteen years. He'd thought he would hate it. He does hate being without it, naked and vulnerable as a shelled turtle. But he doesn't hate those little moments of connection. He follows, as predicted.

"I'd rather have an M1 Abrams if we're talking pre-war relics, but it's your...whatever it is. Is it supposed to resemble a sausage? You always talk as if you actually recognize these things."

[facethefacts]

He means it as more than a compliment, truly. Deacon may be a liar, but he is never dishonest about his feelings on particulars. In any case, he thinks Danse is way better off without those Brotherhood assholes, and the ex-paladin can probably sense that sentiment, too.

Shameful and humiliating aren't even adjectives he'd use to describe what he saw. Deacon was having his own internal crisis at the time; as he so frequently does when faced with a situation similar to Danse's. It's difficult for him to remain all smiles and snide remarks when he thinks about Barbara; a thought he similarly pushes from his mind. But while trying to distract himself from those thoughts, others sneak in...

"I dunno, seems a bit clunky..." he replies, his voice somewhat distant. He's a bit preoccupied with a memory that keeps trying to sneak it's way in. One he's blocked away by repeatedly reciting every word he can remember of 'War and Peace' in his head.

"Sorry-- What was that? Got a lot on my mind."

[senateperor]

Exploration of the hospital makes for strange bedfellows. Palpatine had initially wished to explore alone, but the hospital had employed defences that made that plan untenable, so he'd fallen in with Deacon. And that was before he learned these creatures were lurking inside.

And of course, the man is a quipper.

He has to pick up the hem of his red senatorial robe to run, but for a man of Palpatine's age he keeps up as they run. "I think a suitable hiding place is called for, don't you?"

[facethefacts]

A man like Deacon knows that hiding doesn't do anything but delay the inevitable. They can lie in wait for their eventual demise, or they can face it head-on. That said, he has always excelled at stealth operations; the best in the business. Ask anyone at the Railroad if you don't believe him (and you shouldn't- but they'll all correlate that story).

An eyebrow rises behind Deacon's shades at his unlikely companion's suggestion, and he looks the man up and down before shrugging.

"You stick out like a sore thumb, pal. Did you have to wear the red dress? I'm more of a hiding-in-plain-sight kinda guy."

[senateperor]

"I'm afraid I wasn't given the opportunity to change before being whisked away." Palpatine replies dryly. "I shall simply have to make do for now."

He's far from defenceless, of course. Even without the Dark Side at his command, Palpatine's chromium-plated lightsaber is hidden up the sleeve of his robe. But he has volunteered none of that to anyone.

"You have extra ammo?" Deacon's gun is crude, but does the job. "I'm afraid in a fight I won't be much help."

[facethefacts]

He bobs his head to the side, because while he appreciates the circumstances (and the dry humor), he'd have ended up in his skivvies before dragging that heavy robe with him on a mission like this. The reality of course is that he wouldn't even need to do that, because he regularly keeps a few disguises on his person for regular changing to suit his needs.

"Next time, I'll lend you something sleek," he promises, moving along through the hall carefully and checking for any more signs of danger.

"Uhhh, define extra," he replies casually. Ammo was precious where he was from, and in this world, it may be even more so... it's simply too soon to tell.

"Leave the fighting to me and just stuff those oversized pockets of yours with as many medical supplies as you can."

make yourself at home

[taediosum]

"Hey! Over here!"

Hanging an arm out of an upside-down corridor, dingy white coat looking brighter against the hospital's shadowy halls, Arcade attempts to grab the fleeing stranger's attention before he can race by. There's a set of heavy doors propped open behind him, maybe heavy enough to slow down the monstrous looking thing in pursuit - but only if they move quickly.

[facethefacts]

The shout grabs his attention, and he spares Arcade a glance before putting eyes back on the enemy. He knows better than to let himself lose track of it. Still, he rushes in the other man's direction, keeping his weapon raised and saving his shot for one he is sure will land, slowing the creature down enough for him to push in beside the stranger and help him close the doors behind them.

"Tell me you have something we can use to barricade this with," he says, taking a momentary glance around them to survey what is available. "Tables, chairs, the kitchen sink. Whatever isn't tied down."

[taediosum]

"Take your pick!"

The hallway behind them is cluttered with the same debris that litters the rest of the hospital ruin, but there are gurneys and wheelchairs rusting away here, too. All of them toppled on their sides or parked at queasy, crooked angles halfway out of the doors that line the walls behind them (these right-side up, for no particular reason other than to be unpleasant and disorientating, Arcade assumes). There are a few plastic chairs, too, but none of them look weighty enough to barricade much.

"I'll hold the doors—" They rattle as if on cue, and Arcade leans into them, all four hands pressed to the rusting metal. The second set of arms he's been sporting for the past month and change are paler, coated in rough keeled scales from fingertips to shoulders. He's taken to hiding them, most of the time, because they've thus far been refusing to disappear again, like some of the other changes have - but in this circumstance, it's uniquely more of an advantage than a hindrance to have an extra set.

[facethefacts]

Deacon nods and bolts off once the other man has the doors held in place, slinging his gun over his shoulder. It doesn't escape him that there's an extra set of arms on the guy, but he also doesn't blink twice at it, because he's certainly seen weirder things back home.

Thankfully, he's agile enough to maneuver through the disorienting halls, and starts with a gurney thinking that the length of it would be the most useful, even if it's not exactly heavy. Hell, just one of the arms could be broken off and slotted through door handles so that the organic Mr. Handy he's run into can help him carry something heavier in front of it.

He tries just that, throwing it into a wall and then using his boot to kick the bar completely free and pry it from the its bearings, then rejoins his new companion to slide it into place.

"What's the over/under on this being enough?" he asks with a scoff, "We can either make a run for it, or you could help me push one of those examination tables over here if you're feeling particularly unlucky."

Make Yourself at Home

[wasteland_101]

"Yeah, but it's missing something," she said as she joined him in firing at whatever that thing was.

"Maybe it's the constant crackle of my Geiger counter," She said with a grin that had teeth that were a bit too sharp for someone that grew up in a vault.

"You all right?" She asked, looking him over. Not like someone who wanted to hurt him, but someone who actually cared about the well being of others.

[facethefacts]

Look, help is never going to be turned down when ammo is getting so dangerously low. Sharp teeth or not, company is more than welcomed.

Deacon scoffs, then checks his chest with an open palm, trying to see if there's a hole there that he wasn't aware of, but he seems to be intact.

"Me? Never been better. Cue the big dance number before I get cold feet."

[wasteland_101]

Now that got a laugh out of the woman. "I don't plan on dancing. Never been one for performance."

She looked over his gun for a moment. It wasn't something that she remembered seeing in the Capital Wasteland before. "Don't recognize that kind of gun. What ammo does it take?"

If they could get out of this hospital, she had a nice stash of ammo back at her truck.

[facethefacts]

"Never gave anyone the ole razzle dazzle?" he asks, then pulls a single bullet from his ammo pouch to use as an example and tosses it her way. "These-- .38's. I could trade you some smokes if you have any. Otherwise I'll just have to improvise."

While he gives the stranger the chance to examine it, he moves across the room to search for anything useful; specifically medical supplies, since its unlikely he'll find anything in the way of ammo. There's a minor dance-like quality in each step he takes, but it's casual, just a bit of fun to keep the vibes light.

hey are you tired of us all yet!! [room with a view]

[lonedanger]

Being hair-trigger on a good day, Len doesn't hesitate to reach for his pistol the instant something brushes against his hair. He's a little less hair-trigger when he realizes it some poor sad sap who got strung upside-down, recognizing the classic trait of a newcomer: general confusion, and decided annoyance at the circumstances.

He makes a point of stepping back when the man with the perfectly coiffed hair adjusts his position (and perspective).

"That was your first mistake, slick," he quips, holstering his firearm and patting himself down for the little kit Arcade forced him to start carrying.

"Testin' fate with that kind of attire."

exactly the opposite

[facethefacts]

To be fair, it's not actually white. It's become some shade of Wasteland beige, littered with snags and holes, dust, and various swear stains. His pants too, once probably blue jeans but so faded from the sun they're almost the same color, cuffed around his ankles, right around where his high top shoes start.

"Aw, c'mon... this is my Sunday best," he quips back, already moving across the room to grab a roll of duct tape that he spots floating in the air. Beggars can't be choosers...

[lonedanger]

"Coulda fooled me."

There's a reason why Len tends to lean towards clothing that is already some shade of brown, tan, or faded denim. Outside of the unrelenting sun of the Mojave and its ability to fade anything with color in under a month, it's a means of blending in with an environment otherwise hellbent on killing him. He can say one thing in the NCR's favor, and it's that their khaki uniforms make them look a whole lot less ostentatious than the Legion's blood-red skirts.

Len leans back slightly as a broken bottle drifts past his face, letting it bounce off the wall and spin slowly toward the concrete floor.

"Got some gauze you can put under that," he says, nodding toward the duct tape. Having used the same to bandage himself in the past he can at least acknowledge that it's the kind of behavior he can attribute to a man after his own heart.

"So where'd this place kidnap you from?"

[facethefacts]

When Deacon wants to blend in, he most certainly will. Unfortunately, he wasn't really anticipating being abducted by... well, whatever it was that took him. Wastelanders talk about aliens, sometimes. They frequently sound insane, but he supposes it's no less believable than anything else one might find out there.

"It must be my birthday," he replies with a smile, tucking the roll of tape under his arm to move toward the stranger again. He glances around them at the question. The extreme lack of gravity gives him pause, and he sucks in a deep breath, sighing it out, his shoulders dropping.

"To answer that question, I think I might need to know where 'this place' is in relation. We'll start with the broad strokes... Earth?" The last word is meant to be his answer, but it's spoken uneasy, like he's unclear whether or not he's still even on it.