memestertrucks | MAY TDM

Entry tags:

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

Threaded | Flat

Got a question about the prompts? Ask away here! And the full FAQ is over here for general game questions!

[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.

husks & haunts b/w testing.

Whether you recruited him or he asked to join, there is now one (1) Ren Amamiya in your scavenging party, headed for the bizarro hospital. He doesn’t look like much - a quiet teenager with glasses and unkempt black hair in plain, unassuming clothes, no visible sign yet of any monster traits transforming his slim frame. At first glance, he likely seems laughably out of his element, a nerdy kid who should be in school with his nose in a book rather than tagging along to a monster-infested death trap.

Inside the hospital, however … he’s a different person entirely. He stealthily slinks around corners like a seasoned jewel thief, pocketing every useful supply he can carry and gracefully evading traps like an acrobat. When one of those hideous creatures comes into his sight … hoo boy, is he ever ready for a fight. Armed with a large bladed weapon he either found or made, Ren attacks with spinning jumps, slicing wildly, grinning like a maniac after the fight ends. If that’s not enough to fell the foe, Ren is joined by a giant, black-winged demonic figure wearing a top hat and wreathed in chains and blue flame, appearing after a summoning shout of ”Come, Arsène!” to dish out spells of incredible damage.

At some point, Ren does slip up - he’s not perfect, he’s still just a kid, and sometimes he gets a little cocky. A syringe sneaks up and sticks him - but it’s fine, he never expects to go into battle without taking some blows. Nothing about him physically changes, but mentally, he becomes a walking billboard.

dream: out of kindness (cw: blood, knives, death)

”This isn’t trivial!”

You find yourself standing in a room, crowded with large tables and benches to one side, a bar with five chairs on the other. Soft lighting tumbles out from underneath multi-colored domes of glass hung from the ceiling. Behind the bar, large glass jars full of coffee beans line the shelves of the wall. There is no music here, only heavy silence in the aftermath of the jingling bell over the door, the signal of a recent departure.

A figure stands in front of you: tan trench coat, red plaid scarf, black gloves. His face is featureless, impassive, like that of a mannequin, framed by soft brown hair. Behind him, through the glass-paned café door, you see snow gently falling onto the street, darkened in the night.

I will carve my own path for myself, the figure in front of you says, his voice warped beyond recognition, slicing through the silence. His tone is calm and even as he explains: I refuse to accept a reality concocted by someone else, stuck under their control for the rest of my days.

“But then, you’ll … “ Your throat is dry, tight, refusing to let you finish the sentence.

So what? the other person snaps. That’s the path I chose.

Your heart is a leaden weight in your chest as you raise your eyes to meet where his aren’t. “Are you sure?”

He nods. All you have to do is stick to your guns and challenge Maruki.

You fall silent. He makes it sound so easy, like making the choice to end his life is the same as deciding whether to make a cup of coffee.

Your silence angers him, and he takes a challenging step forward.

Are you really so spineless that you’d fold over some bullshit, trivial threat on my life? he demands to know, seething.

“This isn’t trivial!” you shout, head snapping up as enraged white heat shoots up your spine and collects at the base of your skull.

It IS! he insists, shouting back at you.

You shake your head. “Don’t oversimplify this,” you say, and it feels like begging, even without the please that goes unspoken.

Do you think I’d be happy with this? Being shown mercy now, of all times?

You again drop your gaze to the floor, and again say nothing.

I don’t want to be pitied - this isn’t something I’m debating with you!

You don’t answer. He never had a problem debating with you before. You want to leave, to walk out that door and start running and never stop. Let someone else take the lead and make decisions for a change. It’s not fucking fair that you have to be the one to break your own heart.

Your indecisiveness on the matter is essentially a betrayal of my wishes.

… He’s right. You know he’s right, and you know what you need to do. But knowing doesn’t stop it from making you feel like you’re being torn apart from the inside.

I want to hear you say it aloud … what do you intend to do?

He moves toward you, steps close in front of you, places both gloved hands on your shoulders. Those hands feel heavier than the weight of the entire world.

I won’t wait a moment longer, Ren. Answer me.

The heaviness of your heart shatters like glass. Some small part of you will never forgive yourself for this. That same part of you may never forgive him for making you choose this, either.

“We’re stopping Maruki,” you answer, calmly, and without warning, you jam a double-edged knife as big as your forearm into his chest. Blood seeps out around the blade, staining his coat as it spreads. You give the knife a hard twist and yank it free.

“I won’t fold,” you say, and this time, you shove the knife into the surface of what should be his face. It shatters like porcelain, and the figure before you falls to the floor in a heap at your feet.

“I won’t fold,” you repeat, and the knife drops to the floor with a loud clatter. You stare down at your hands, now covered in blood, and watch silently as the blood thickens, wraps tightly around each finger, and transforms into a pair of red leather gloves.

Outside, the snow continues to fall.

wild card? wild card.
[Want something else? Feel free to hit me up! PM or gothmoth @ plurk. Happy to do prose or brackets.]

Summoning Circle

[Nora had been working on scrapping parts of a pre war truck, shouting at her companion to hand her a tool before everything went black. Coming to, she felt like she was leaning on something, maybe her partner had propped her up. Opening her eyes, she soon realized she was staring at the floor.]

What the fu-- [And then she fell. Luckily missing the junk littering the floor. Groaning, she sat up, looking around the room she was in.

This wasn't the Red Rocket Station.]

Oh, what now?!

Start Up

[After getting her wits about her, Nora left the strange garage. Outside, she finds the convoy, with so many cars she hadn't seen since the war... most she hadn't seen outside a book. She walks over to one that catches her eye, going to check out what needed to be repaired. A tire, one of the doors was stuck, a few minor cosmetic things.

It looked like her pre war vehicle... but with a combustion engine. And the keys were in the door.]

Man, combustion engines went extinct for fission yeeeears ago. I can't tell if this is going to work or not...

Long Way Down

[There's a rumble while Nora is looking at the car, causing her to pull her head out of the mysterious engine and toward the garage again. To see a part of it floating upwards.]

Shit! [She runs over to try to grab one of the chains. She didn't know if they could pull it down, but she had to try. So, she turns to someone nearby.]

Get over here and help me!

[ooc: Hi! I'm waffling between wraith and an ice elemental for Nora based on FO4 lore. Also, feel free to throw me a wildcard curveball! I will also match prose or brackets... brackets was just easier for me tonight, lol.]

Edited 2025-05-16 01:44 (UTC)

3...2...1... Start!

[It was a small toy in the shape of a kunai that dangled off of the key and buttoned device that Felicia found in the pocket of her long, pink plaid coat that she pulled off of the rack in the depot, worried more about the frilly layers of her skirt and blouse being ruined than she was about the elements. Standing amid the wreckage of the stone fort that contained a multitude of rusted metal carriages, Felicia repeatedly pressed the buttons and followed the unnatural chirps that echoed throughout in sync. She didn't recognize where she was... But this wasn't the first time she had traveled through strange lands in search of Corrin.

Why should this be different?

It wasn't long before she found the source of the chirping-- a very cute, very pink cartridge with round glass plates on the front.]

Um... How do I get to it?

[she asked, tilting her head.

It was floating up against the ceiling.]

Free Falling

Uwauwauwa!!! We've got trouble!

[Strange realms weren't new to her. Flying wasn't entirely new, either, but fortresses that floated above the ground-- higher and higher-- were not something Felicia was well versed in. Clutching the hem of her coat in her hands, she leaped around the debris that started to float around them and looked around desperately for an exit.]

Flying like this isn't good, right? Ohhh, she scares me, but I wish Princess Hinoka were here!

wildcard

[Ooc: don't see a prompt you like? Make one up! Hmu on Plurk at

woodrift to plot!]

Edited 2025-05-16 01:58 (UTC)

1. Summoning Circle

[It doesn't hit her immediately upon waking that she is floating. The first thing that comes to Maggie's awareness as she begins to come around is that she is not at home. This ceiling is not the same ceiling she fell asleep staring at, and it's disconcerting enough that it takes a moment to register the absence of anything firm beneath her, and it's only when she tries to roll over to upright herself that it hits.

She's floating in midair. Only a couple of feet up, but enough that a sudden drop would mean an unpleasant landing.]

The hell!?

[It comes out as a startled yelp, and she claws at the air as though trying to find purchase to right herself again as she takes in her surroundings: the state of the dilapadated room, and broken glass and discarded vials lying about the floor. Her eyes land on a figure partway across the room, and without another clear option, she calls out to them.]

Hey - Hey, do you mind giving me a hand over here?

2. Husks and Haunts Pt 1

['Beware the Husks' says the writing on the wall. Maggie has no idea what a husk is exactly, but it seems like sound advice. Beware of everything seems fairly reasonable in this strange place that feels like something out of a twisted funhouse, except minus the fun. Sometimes the walls are the ceiling. Sometimes the ceiling is the floor, and there doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to it, but sometimes the only way out is through and she's certainly not about to let the strange surroundings get to her.

She crouches down near one of the husks for a closer look, hunting knife in hand in case it moves, but the cracked-open shell of what she thinks was probably at some point a human being remains still.]

What is this...

[It's murmured mostly to herself as her gaze follows the slick trail that leads up to the rafters. Maggie freezes as movement catches her eye, and one of the creatures shifts, a tangle of too many limbs that looks like it was cobbled together by someone who only had the vaguest idea of what a person should look like.

Her eyes don't leave the creature as she rises slowly to her feet. Maybe, she hopes, she can just back away and it won't notice her. She is alone, she doesn't know how strong that thing is, and the occasional movement in the shadows of the rafters suggests there's a lot more than just one. There's a chance these are not great odds.

One cautious, slow step back, and then another, and just as she thinks maybe it hasn't seen her, the creature drops and lunges.]

3. Husks and Haunts Pt 2

[Flight is the better choice, she quickly learns. The monsters that were hanging from the ceiling are strong - not impossibly so - but strong enough that one against many makes for very poor odds, and while she doesn't take stock of exact numbers, there are enough for her to classify as 'many.'

The tangle of mismatched limbs is enough to slow down the creature that first dropped down from the ceiling as it chases after Maggie down the hall. She rounds a corner and hauls open a door to what looks like some kind of exam room and slips inside. If there's another drifter also seeking an escape from the monsters, she will hold the door open long enough to let them slip past her before slamming it shut and locking the deadbolt behind them.

She leans against the door with a sigh of relief, safe for now, it seems.]

We gotta block this door somehow.

[She trails off as her eyes are drawn to the flickering of the screens as they come to life.]

What...

4. Long Way Down

[There's some measure of comfort to be found in familiar things, and Maggie is very familiar with scavenging for supplies, so it's easy to throw her focus into searching the garage along with others for anything that might be useful on their journey.

The rumble catches her off guard, and for a brief moment, she thinks it's an earthquake with the way the ground pitches under her feet, throwing her off balance. It's only as the garage starts to rise into the air that she realizes it's something completely different.

She scrambles to the edge as the garage floats upwards, then quickly back again as she realizes how high up they're getting. Her breath catches in her throat, eyes widening at the distance to the ground.

Eyes up, Maggie, before you toss your cookies.

She can practically hear his voice in her head as a wave of dizziness threatens to overwhelm her, and she hates it. She takes another step back as she fights to steady her breathing before daring to take another peek over the edge to see if she can spot a way down.]

Summoning Circle
It probably says something about Karlach's life that floating a few feet above the ground in a strange stone space littered with debris is not the most disorienting way she's woken up. Even were she the type to go for introspection - and she is decidedly not - there isn't time to decide exactly what it says, though. Gravity reasserts itself, and she twists enough to take the brunt of the fall on her shoulder. Something crunches beneath her, and she pushes herself up with a low grunt, grimacing as she eyes a shard of glass embedded in her upper arm. She reaches up to pull it from her skin, then glances around. Her sweep may not turn up anyone familiar, but her gaze does land on another tumbled Drifter.

"Hey. You okay?"

Husks and Haunts
The sound of fighting around the bend in one of the hospital's hallways - clanging metal, a human-sounding shout, an alien screech - suggests someone has fallen afoul of some of the monsters haunting the twisted structure.

Anyone following the noise will find that one, as they turn the corner, gravity shifts so that the innermost wall is now the floor, and two, it looks like maybe the stalking creatures are the ones who've fallen afoul of their intended prey. One, a twisted wreck of tubing and flesh, with too many eyes and scalpel-sharp talons, is already down, cut nearly in half at what might be the waist, mouth agape and tooth-lined tongue lolling. A tall, muscular woman, red-skinned, horned, and terribly scarred faces off against something with three legs and far too many arms. It reaches for her, and she brings down a huge battle axe, severing one of those grasping limbs, which falls twitching beside two more of its kind.

Above, on what should be the outer wall, there's a shift of movement.

Start Up
Eventually, Karlach does circle back to the convoy and the nagging sense of rightness that comes with the battered vehicle that someone from the right period on Earth might recognize as a heavy-duty Jeep, and that she recognizes mostly as some kind of transport. She stares at it for a long moment, consternation clear both on her face and in the waves of emotion hanging like heat haze in the air around her.

"What am I supposed to do with you?" she mutters, and while she could be talking about the fact that two of the tires aren't just flat, but missing entirely, she really, really isn't.

Edited 2025-05-16 03:41 (UTC)

Summoning Circle

As Palpatine wakes, he immediately realizes something is wrong. The first is that he is no longer in his office in the Senate building.

The second is that he appears to be floating a few feet in the air. A Jedi trap? But how—

Further contemplation of how his enemies could have captured him so easily are cut off when whatever is keeping him up suddenly cuts out, and he falls to the ground in a heap. For a man who tries to project an air of solemn, if grandfatherly dignity at all times, it is quite pathetic as he flops on the ground, red senatorial robes in disarray.

And it nearly throws his back out on top of it. The loud gasp he makes on hitting the ground is quite audible.

Husks & Haunts

The hospital was the most logical place to try and get some information, and as it seems other "Drifters" are headed there as well, Palpatine wagers it will not look out of place for a man seemingly as harmless as he to go help look. After all, he's just trying to help. It will be good cover for his real purpose; to try and find any scrap of information or knowledge about this place. Clearly, there's a power in this world; just look at the chaos that has been let loose here. And while the Dark Side is a pathway to unlimited power, Darth Sidious has never been one to say no to more if he can get the chance.

...It also will allow him to scan this motley assemblage of scoundrels and scum in the small possibility that there is someone here who might be useful to him. Certainly not on the level of his soon to be Apprentice, of course, but a...temporary replacement. He does need a new one of those since the unfortunate loss of Darth Tyranus, after all.

Unfortunately, while searching for administration offices or perhaps some sort of security room, Palpatine is ensnared, not by one of the monsters prowling the halls, but by the security defences. Restraints lock around his wrists and waists and pull him into an operating chair. He could probably break free on his own, but that would risk someone seeing him do so, and he's not prepared to play that card just yet. Though other Drifters close by find Palpatine, strapped into a chair as an automated syringe prepares to inject him. All things considered, he's still keeping fairly calm. His eyes flick towards whoever it is that has spotted him.

"Be careful. I think there may be other defences."

Long Way Down

It seems the time has come to abandon the gas station, or at least this section of it. Palpatine has gathered what supplies he can carry, and has made his way to the edge of the island, to consider his routes. He dismisses trying to use the smaller bits of debris as stairs as some others have chosen; as it stands he'd have to call upon the Dark Side to assist making some of the jumps, and that would be noticed. So instead he picks up a cable and takes a steeling sigh.

"Just like climbing the cliffs in the Lake Country when I was a boy. I'm sure I'm not that rusty."

Psychic Echoes-Always Two There Are

Darkness and cold surround you. You're kneeling, as is proper, and expected. One day, you will not kneel. All will kneel to YOU, one day. But for now, you are the learner. And unlimited power is not given freely.

The shadows take form in front of you; a hooded figure, face shrouded in darkness save for piercing yellow eyes that stare out at you, laying bare all your weaknesses, and frailties, your shortcomings, your regrets. Cold, and imperious. You are NOTHING before Lord Plagueis, and he knows it. When he speaks, it is as a sepulchral whisper.

"Tell me what you regard as your greatest strength, so I will know how best to undermine you; tell me of your greatest fear, so I will know which I must force you to face; tell me what you cherish most, so I will know what to take from you; and tell me what you crave, so that I might deny you."

Fail to answer, and Plagueis will strike you down without pity, or remorse.

There is only one bright light in this all-consuming darkness, high above. A shining moon. Or...is it a moon? The darkness clouds everything around you, and the object high in the sky is strangely difficult to focus on. As if some sort of Force is preventing you from peering too deeply into matters that should be hidden.

Edited 2025-05-16 04:24 (UTC)

02. Start Up
[A few hours into this and she's still confused, the garage is quiet, save for the sound of tools hitting objects and the floor. She finds herself looking around the garage for someone else, anyone else but can't find not a soul.] I feel like I'm supposed to put this back together.

[There's a car not far from where she is, a jeep, it's red and old, not ancient...just 1980's kinda jeep. Not something she would be interested in driving but she feels like it's hers. She walks over to it, placing her hand on the hood. It needs fixing but she has no idea how to fix a car.] Hello! Anyone here?

05. Long Way down
[She goes further up and up on the rocks, jumping from one to the other; as she watches the moon pieces float about, something in her wants to pick them up and splice them back together but she knows there's no way how. She stops on one of the rocks, looking down and realizing something in her is trying to break free, her heart speeds up and the inner beast or monster or whatever it is, is whispering to her.

She takes a deep breath, wondering where Willow, Xander, Dawnie and the rest of her friends are. Is this a dream? It feels like a very surreal dream to her. She feels fangs extend between her teeth and gasps just a little.] What's inside me? There's no way... this reality can't be that cruel!

[But it is. It's very cruel. She ends up falling down into another rock, then ends up hitting each rock on the way down. Her body doesn't feel so good and she's trying to stand up on the last rock.

Then she starts transforming, it hurts to do so. Her whoe mouth feels like it's on fire. Her skin takes on a paler than usual pallor. She's hateful at the moment. Hateful of whatever brought her here, she hopes it dies bloody and broken and alone.]

06. Psychic Echoes
[As she punches a fist through the last monster, its face bleeds everywhere and crumbles, it falls to the ground and she blinks as she suddenly hears thought after thought entering her head. Tons of thoughts, not million just about a couple dozen. She frowns a little, wondering where these thoughts are coming from.

She steps along the forested road, trying to figure out who she is hearing at the moment. It's someone she suspects isn't having a good day. Can you hear me? I'm... I'm here to help. That makes sense right? That she's here to help. Even if it's just an ear to listen.]

The presence of floating objects and upside-down buildings are actually quite familiar to Lucanis. He's been living in the Fade for some time now, his eyes always a fairly pink hue from rubbing at them, but they don't itch the same way now, the presence of magic different than that he's used to.

Many of the objects in the garage are unfamiliar to him; mechanical bits unlike those from his world, but he takes what he finds useful to him and moves onward to the larger building, intrigued by it and hoping to find answers.

BEWARE THE HUSKS

A Crow's keen senses are always on alert, and Spite sniffs out the presence of something strange and inhuman long before it shows itself. Lucanis is graceful in the way he fights them off; acrobatic even without the aid of Spite's wings. A mangled mass of limbs tumbles in his direction, and he evades its attack, using those wings to carry him as he runs along a wall, trails of feathers floating behind him and falling like ash in their wake. It's cornered and sliced at with a swift movement of twin blades until it goes limp, but he isn't expecting the next falling monster to have metal implements for arms, and parrying at the last second, he relies on his footwork to get him off-line.
Lucanis grunts as he thrusts his rapier forward to the creature's chest, knocking it's needle-like arm aside with his dagger, it's other arm sliding along the blade but well over Lucanis' shoulder. He smirks, lunges, and then retreats, pulling his sword from its chest so that it drops to the floor.

A moment of triumph is barely awarded to him before several more monsters get the drop, and he finds himself surrounded. He doesn't panic, exactly. He has, of course, once successfully killed a half-dozen Venatori in an elevator. How hard could this be? Still, he's outnumbered, and he doesn't love his chances.

"Mierda." he hisses, raising his dagger to his chest in defense, his rapier arm extending again as the creatures begin to move in.

MY SHADOW'S STUCK

The last time Lucanis had been strapped down and prodded at, it didn't end well. His blood had been drained into a phylactery that would later be used to control him. He had been fed something rotten. His body and fate had been sealed to a demon against his will, against both their will. When he comes to, he begins writhing immediately, all the panic he'd suppressed before bubbling to the surface as he tries to grasp his surroundings.

Spite stares at him from across the room, where only he can see him. His shadow self, its glowing purple eyes somewhat empty and defeated.

We had. An agreement. it rasps for only him to hear, and Lucanis growls, attempting to throw his weight to break free from the contraption that holds him. "Can't you see that I'm a little tied-up right now?!" he yells, aggravated.

RISING TO THE OCCASION

The gas station seemed like a safer place to rest after the monster-filled hospital, but at least Lucanis was able to stow away some medical supplies for himself. There's a loud crack, then the groan of rubble breaking free as part of the station lifts away, the screams and cries of the drifters floating away on it piercing his eardrums. Lucanis acts quickly. Death may be his calling, but these are innocent people, and he cannot imagine their fate should they be stranded in such a way. Spite's wings unfold from his back as he leaps into the air, scaling the side of the exposed rock until he can lift himself atop it.

"Quickly!" he shouts to someone nearby, "Take my hand."

He's assessing the others with a scan of his eyes and already running the numbers. He won't be able to save them all... but he can try. "Be ready- I'll come back for the rest of you."

A SPACE IN BETWEEN

It's becoming more clear to Lucanis that he isn't lost in the Fade. This is another world, altogether, unlike any he's seen. He'd spent a year trapped beneath the waves and broke free, only to be imprisoned somewhere else entirely. He's busy brooding as he walks along the road, away from the caravan. Spite scurries at his side, antagonizing him as he tends to, but Lucanis has already began to tune him out, wincing as he steps around the carcass of an unusual brain creature and determines it best to head back. He has a better chance of survival if he stays with the group, after all, and it's getting late.

Lucanis doesn't often sleep, but without the convenience of good coffee and the caffeine withdrawals making his head pound in pain, he finds a corner to doze off in. Even Spite feels too weak to take control of his body, but they do dream, walking together in an ever-changing landscape that seeps into the minds of others, melding dreams together into intricate, woven patterns.

"Where are we?" he asks softly, not to Spite, who stands beside him with his head tilted to the side like a confused pet, but to the figure before them who in this plane of existence can see and hear them both. "Who are you?"

Summoning Circle

This is not the hospital.

This is also not the front. This is nothing Edward has ever experienced before. He's floating, like he's swimming but without water, swimming in the air, and he doesn't like it. He can't seem to control where he's going, and this room isn't one he knows.

After flailing through the air for awhile, his hands outstretched and grasping in front of him, Edward manages to find a wall. He's somehow able to grasp it with just the pads of his fingers, clinging to it like a spider, and the strangeness of that won't occur to him until later. For now, he's simply grateful to be secured somewhere.

"Hello?" His voice is soft and polite, even here, tinged with an upper class British accent. "Is there anyone out there?"

Testing

Somehow, Edward has made his way to the hospital. It made the most sense to make his way there; he'd been in one before arriving wherever this is, and perhaps someone he knows might be there. There might even be a doctor who can treat his eyes, although that is an ever-dwindling possibility and he knows it.

But this isn't a hospital like Edward knows. It's messy, and chaotic, and dangerous, even more so than the field hospitals. The one thing is has going for it is that it isn't coated in mud, blood, and shit, and Edward is able to walk through it without mud trying to suck his boots away.

Unfortunately, even without the mud, there are still sharp things strewn about, and Edward winces when one of his wandering hands is pricked by a needle.

As he keeps exploring, his head starts to fill with little flashes, little tidbits that seem to be coming from somewhere else. Fragments of voices, images, memories, that aren't his own. It's troubling, and Edward tries to push them out of his mind. When he does, he unknowingly pushes out images and words of his own.

help

over the top

let's go boys, let's show the hun what we're made of

whistling, falling whistling

explosions, the wet smack of dirt and mud landing from great heights

wordless screaming, endless, cries for help, cries for mother

And colours, bold, ugly swathes of colour, rippling through his mind like waves. Dark, muddy reds; darkness that isn't empty, darkness that's full of shining metal teeth; khaki brown splattered with bright, arterial red.

Psychic echoes

There is so much to avoid here, so many dangers. Being unable to see them only compounds things. Edward eventually made his way out of the hospital, but stumbled across an insidious little plant. It wrapped around his ankle before he was able to rip it off.

Now he's sitting at a campfire that someone else has made, clutching a stick he found that he's been using as a cane. If anyone gets close, they'll be clobbered by the waves of emotion emanating off him. There's fear, bright and snarling and yellow, and a few streaks of a strange, deep green, which glimmers to the surface and then disappears. But mostly it's despair, huge and purple and overwhelming, suffocating, billowing out of his every pore.

[OOC: Edward is a WWI veteran who was recently blinded by a mustard gas attack. He's not adapting well to his new disability and can be short tempered about it. If anyone wants to probe at his emotions or temporary telepathy, they're going to get walloped with WWI imagery and memories.]

[A - Summoning Circle]
Given the half-of-a-superhero lifestyle he leads, Martin Stein should be more used to floating, but he is wholly unused to waking up and doing it all by his lonesome, thank you very much. He gives a yell of surprise from two feet up in the air and tries to right himself.

Indignity of indignities, he knocks his glasses off in the process. The glasses (he is reaching for the glasses, isn't he?) are just out of reach. Time to squint at a blur he sure as hell hopes is a person. "Ah, hello! Could you give me a hand?" Please. He's pulled a floating Velma. The loss of the glasses far outweighs the alarm of being stuck in the air.

[B - Husks and Haunts]
Oh. Oh. That is...well, he doesn't know what the Unknown is, Martin just knows that he wants nothing to do with it. Sadly, his best defense is to run like hell, occasionally reaching up to touch one of his temples as he goes, like that is supposed to do something--he really wishes it would do something--but nothing happens, and it's all he can do to haul physicist ass. Surely some solution to this problem will prevent it self...hopefully soon so he can catch his breath, why this.

For the canon unfamiliar: characters able to detect magic or spirits may notice that Diarmuid is, as it so happens, exactly that. His face is extra magic (and I'd appreciate anyone playing female characters giving that link a quick look because it could be relevant).

Additionally, I have to offer a general warning for the topic of compelled suicide; if you don't want this subject being touched upon in your thread, please let me know!

Notes:

Summoning Circle (cw: bloody angry ghost sighting)

Diarmuid will not be lingering long enough to be interactable, here, but characters who might have witnessed the state of his arrival are welcome to refer back to it should they encounter him at a later point. He came to visibly injured, with blood spilling from his face and chest and coating the blade of the spear accompanying him; characters close enough to read his expression could note intense pain, anger, and an unnatural glow in his eyes (think burning embers). He will have been radiating a wild, hostile energy in the brief moment before he gained clarity and discorporated, bodily vanishing like ash scattering on the wind. Don't worry about it! This is probably fine.

Psychic Echoes

Encounters in the hospital and afterward may include Diarmuid projecting a lot of bitter feelings in the vein of grief, shame, and anger; please let me know if you'd rather opt out of this coming up in your thread!

Husks and Haunts: Hunting Party

[ Drifters fighting through the halls of the hospital may find themselves with a sudden ally: dropping down onto a monster or perhaps seeming to spring from nowhere, a crimson spear is thrust through the body of its target and then carved outward. The man on the other end of it is uncommonly clean and composed for all the grime and horror of their surroundings, with only a light sheen of sweat on his forehead and the weight of each deliberately steadied breath to suggest he's already been here a while.

Perhaps the body of the felled monster begins to dissolve, and for a moment the curling brand of the sigil on his chest glows strongly enough to be visible through the dark teal armour of his body suit.

Perhaps it doesn't, and he clicks his tongue in frustrated disappointment.

Either way, he takes a step back from it as he lifts his gaze to assess the state of his fellow Drifter. Friend or foe? ]

Testing: Bonfire Checkpoint

[ The horrors may be increasingly persistent deeper into the hospital, but at least one small space for respite has been stubbornly carved out. It's hard to say what the room originally would have been used for, between the building's uncertain layout and the insistence with which it's been emptied by its newfound guardian; for the moment, however, it's relatively clear of danger and contains a helpful(?) stash of whatever potentially-healing supplies he might have found while hunting.

Other Drifters might encounter the space of their own accord. Those worse for wear might be led to it if he happens upon them in the halls nearby, or perhaps a shift in the gravitational anomaly causes someone to more or less literally fall into his arms.

In all cases, he extends the same offer to anyone in need: ]

You will find rest and safety here if you seek them. [ Gentle words that carry the solemnity of a knight's oath. ] I won't allow even one of those unsightly beasts to cross the threshold in the meantime.

Wildcard: 30-foot Vertical Leap?

[ It's only some time later that anyone avoiding the inverted hospital ruins will have a chance to encounter Diarmuid. He can be found in any of the public areas of the Convoy, or the stop, though for a man as decidedly unchanged as he appears he's somewhat difficult to pin down: he has a tricky habit of seeming to vanish into thin air when he's not occupied.

Still, other Drifters might be able to catch him with a request for help. Or come across him hunting down ingredients and utensils for a hearty soup to put on the fire while he's figuring out the necessary repairs for his new motorcycle. Will he be unnecessarily shirtless at some point during this? Probably. At least that'll be a chance for anyone curious to get a good look at the sigil branded conspicuously over his heart. ]

summoning circle.

[ waking up floating is a... unique feeling. she can't say for sure it's the first time this has ever happened, but for the most part julie's just disoriented. she rolls, ends up facing the floor, which is great because that's exactly when she falls and hits the floor. ]

[ her mask protects her face from the glass and debris on the ground, but her arm lands in a pile of stuff and ends up cut up, something that gets folded into the general sense of ouch that she's feeling right now. she groans and pulls herself to her feet, hisses as she pulls a shard of glass out of her arm and decides that's not important right now. ]

[ it doesn't quite occur to her that this isn't the fog, it's not like it's unusual to be dumped somewhere new and expected to perform, but the combination of unfamiliar voices out not too far away and the lack of the ever-present weight of a hunger and expectation that isn't her own makes her take her mask off and she tucks it into her jacket. picks up a knife off the ground too since she seems to be missing her own. ]

[ god she hopes she doesn't get sucked into the sky or some shit. ]

husks and haunts.

[ julie walks along the walls of a hallway, the whole "being sideways" thing disorienting her a little, but she manages. unsure what she's looking for or why she even came in here. ]

[ her unease isn't helped any, by a body (or an amalgamation of bodies) slips out of a hole in the ceiling and falls wetly to the floor. a very real sense of panic rips through her — of course that thing's here, of course this must be the withered isle, of course, of course — but the way this thing moves isn't at all familiar. ]

[ she dives at it, knife out... and is immediately flung against another wall by three sets of arms. which is pretty rude, honestly. ]

wildcard.

[ any prompt, whatever you want, come at me. ]

[Patience is a human girl whose mind has been rendered into "a being of pure thought-energy" and attached to a borderline sapient Acrocanthosaurus, a large theropod dinosaur. She's got some kind of harsh-textured dark brown covering that looks a little like stiff fur from a distance but might be quill-like feathers or just modified scales up close. Brighter amber spots are visible and longer quills sprout down the length of her spine, standing or bristling at times. When she talks, you 'hear' the voice of a teen girl ('tough jock' edition) but it's a psychic overlay over the sounds an acro can make - chuffs, growls, clicking etc, which can be perceived under it if you pay enough attention.

...to make things a little easier, she's also 'only' about neovenator size.]
Summoning circle
[you've always wanted to see a dinosaur flailing in the air making frustrated huffs and hisses, haven't you?

Patience can't get her feet or tail to the ground, regardless of kicking and gyrating, and that's taken precedence over the sight and smell of this very un-Cretaceous setting, until she catches sight of you. Then she goes still, moving her head to stare dead on out of both round red-orange eyes. After a long moment:]

Oh, this is bullshit.

wildcard
[I gotta go. If you wanna encounter Patience wandering around outside or having a harder time in the enclosed environment of inside, attacking stuff etc, feel free! Should she see something (someone?) weird and threatening she tries to deescalate first with lines like 'Okay, look, if we gotta rumble we'll rumble, but we can talk this out']

Edited 2025-05-19 01:57 (UTC)

03. Husks and Haunts
[He didn't want to go to the hospital, but that seemed like a likely place to find someone to talk to since the gas station was empty. He looked around the hospital, finding it odd and out of place. It was full of strange things that he didn't really want to think about it. He frowned to himself just a little as he watched the monsters on the rafters, he keeps walking through, hoping to find someone, anyone.] I see. I must be dreaming. This whole place feels like a dream.

[Except, he gets the odd feeling it's not. It feels like something that's really happening. Strange as that sounds.]

4. Testing
[Cloud gets bitten in the skin with a syringe, he hisses as he stomps on the monster who did it. His mouth contorts and his body feel weird, he falls to his knees as wings expand from his body, pain searing through his body as they protrude. The wings flap against his will and he ends up flying into the air, next he can hear the thoughts of people nearby and then he finds he wants to hunt something down, anything down.

He finds a deer, waiting in the woods, he goes after it and slices it's throat with his sword. He salivates at the mouth at the idea of cooking and eating it, but mostly he wants to eat it raw. What fun! He wants to eat it raw. What the hell is wrong with him? He tears into it's dead flesh, ripping it open and gathering pieces of meat ontop of each other. He turns toward his comrades, not surprised he's reacting this way. He should be surprised.] Who wants some?

05. Long Way Down
[The hell? What is going on? He is floating at least a 50 feet in the air, the air is thin up here and he's gasping for breath. He jumps down a few rocks, it gets better suddenly and he keeps climbing down. He can see people at the bottom of the rock stairs, looking up and pointing. He keeps going, the breathing gets better as he goes and he sighs, running a hand over his blonde spiky hair.

He feels sweaty, grimy and out of place. He knows he's going to end up falling, he gets the distinct feeling that he might. There's no way he won't. As he keeps going down, he suddenly feels very very tired. He could rest on this rock right here. it's big enough. There's room for a lay down. He's almost at the bottom, so he intends on sleeping for the next two hours. He'll get there eventually.

He lays down and closes his eyes. Nice, soft rock.]

Summoning

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.

Summoning Circle

What in tarnation....

[The words were out of her mouth a second before she hit the floor. Loud swearing could be heard as she landed hard on her rifle which had been slung across her back. She sat up with a groan and pulled the weapon off to check it. No cracks in the stock or the barrel. Good.]

What in the hell is goin' on here?

[She's seen summoning circles before, but not like this. And she's never been summoned by one.]

Giddyap

[Marribelle is just going to carefully walk around the cars. She looks so confused. She's never seen anything like these things before. She eventually finds her way around to the edge of the vehicles to find what appeared to be a strange looking horse. She stepped closer to it and gently reached out to pet it's nose.

What she didn't expect was for its eyes to suddenly light up and ears to swivel around.]

Easy there, fella. I ain't here ta hurt ya.

[She was surprised that it didn't try to bite her or something like that.]

Husks and Haunts

[Marribelle has no idea what kind of hospital this is, but she doesn't like it. Nothing around here is like what she's used to seeing and she's starting to wonder if she's actually gone insane. Gotta love questioning your own sanity in a strange place.

She peers into a room. She's not sure what she's going to see or find, but she's got a grip on a revolver that looks a lot like the rifle on her back. Hearing movement behind her, she spins, drawing the revolver. ]

Wildcard

Wanna do something else? Hit me.

Marribelle is an old west bounty hunter that uses elemental magic that she infuses her bullets with. Still trying to figure out her main element.

Edited 2025-05-22 00:40 (UTC)

Threaded | Flat

TDM FAQ

Deacon | Fallout 4

ren amamiya } persona 5 royal } potential new kid