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memestertrucks2025-11-08 08:19 pm
monstertruckers) wrote in memestertrucks2025-11-08 08:19 pm
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NOVEMBER TDM
A chilling mist and storms cling to the surrounding area. The cold and the wet pierces even the garage, making for a poor welcome. This time around the garage and gas station lurks amidst multiple farms, and a fall colored forest. The seasons have decisively shifted. And the environment is doing its best to shift the new arrivals in turn.
01: SUMMONING CIRCLE
New Drifters arrive to gloomy skies seen through the broken windows of a garage… And a large barn house looming overhead. Rain echoes on the roof, along with the occasional rumble of thunder. When it isn’t raining outside, there’s a damp and chill mist that lingers over the farmlands.
It makes the large Convoy pulling up to stop at that garage seem that much more tall and imposing: though it’s also clear the Convoy has seen some wear and tear, metal scuffed and a few gashes and dents in the cars.
The summoning circle in the garage is lined with candles that can be used to ward off some of the mist and the chill, but it’s advised to find more stable shelter in cars or in the barn. The roof of the garage leaks. And wet, cold concrete isn’t very comfortable for very long.
It makes the large Convoy pulling up to stop at that garage seem that much more tall and imposing: though it’s also clear the Convoy has seen some wear and tear, metal scuffed and a few gashes and dents in the cars.
The summoning circle in the garage is lined with candles that can be used to ward off some of the mist and the chill, but it’s advised to find more stable shelter in cars or in the barn. The roof of the garage leaks. And wet, cold concrete isn’t very comfortable for very long.
02: START UP
There are various cars surrounding the garage. Some of them parked directly outside, though a few of them are parked in various farm fields and vegetable patches. Drifters are advised to watch out for hostile farm life and produce (such as exploding pumpkins) if their ride is out in the farm patch.
There’s also a certain connection between different newcomers and cars. Something that suggests a particular vehicle is theirs, backed up by possessing the key to that vehicle. The key 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 supplies… Now it’s just a matter of finding some extra hands.
There’s also a certain connection between different newcomers and cars. Something that suggests a particular vehicle is theirs, backed up by possessing the key to that vehicle. The key 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 supplies… Now it’s just a matter of finding some extra hands.
03: FARM HOSTILITIES
The farm isn’t always the friendliest place; the assorted livestock are all monstrous, and ready to fight any Drifter that looks at them funny. Cockatrices, bull gorgons, bullfango, and bicorns are all present and grumpy.
In addition, Drifters should look out for scarecrows in the farm patches. Their eyes glow with an eerie light, and anyone who meets their gaze will find their fears manifesting. At first the fears last for only a blink, and appear to be hallucinations. The longer any Drifters stay under the scarecrow’s gaze, the more their fears become real and dangerous.
Leaving the gaze of the scarecrows (or destroying them) can end the effect. Though any lingering trauma and bloodshed will need different solutions.
In addition, Drifters should look out for scarecrows in the farm patches. Their eyes glow with an eerie light, and anyone who meets their gaze will find their fears manifesting. At first the fears last for only a blink, and appear to be hallucinations. The longer any Drifters stay under the scarecrow’s gaze, the more their fears become real and dangerous.
Leaving the gaze of the scarecrows (or destroying them) can end the effect. Though any lingering trauma and bloodshed will need different solutions.
04: MOON WARP
Various glowing moon shards have taken root across different farm fields. Thanks to them, there’s more than just produce and livestock growing on the farm. Magic has sunk into the buildings and the soil, and is ready to work on the Drifters in turn.
The scarecrows take on a more sinister glow some nights, pulsing violently with light before exploding; moon shards lay dormant in many of them, before activating one night and forcing changes in Drifters. Along with activating other monster traits, two event monsters are available:
The scarecrows take on a more sinister glow some nights, pulsing violently with light before exploding; moon shards lay dormant in many of them, before activating one night and forcing changes in Drifters. Along with activating other monster traits, two event monsters are available:
04: MONSTER SHIFT, KITSUNE
A fox monster possessing multiple tails. They may take the form of Kitsune, Gumiho, or Huli Jin. They may feature a full or partial vulpine transformation, and with all Kitsune traits also have:
+Trickster Curse: Anyone who steals from farms or acts with trickery/deception risks activating traits.
+Liver Eater: Begins to feel a clawing hunger that can only be satisfied by the liver from prey. The fresher, the better. Husk monsters can fulfill this craving!
+Fox Fire: can generate phantasmal fire either at will or while emotional. These fires cannot burn, unless willed to do so… Or if one’s emotions grow out of hand.
+Fox Fright: If fear or anxiety becomes too great, may become a fox (either small or giant!) in an attempt to flee and hide.
+Tails To Tell: Growing extra tails, up to nine. This may interfere with balance, or even reach out to brush against other people like they have a mind of their own.
+Thief Feet: Gains a talent for moving quietly and stealthily, even able to hide from the farm monsters and the scarecrows.
+Favored Prey: gains an appetite and a ferocity for cockatrices.
+Trickster Curse: Anyone who steals from farms or acts with trickery/deception risks activating traits.
+Liver Eater: Begins to feel a clawing hunger that can only be satisfied by the liver from prey. The fresher, the better. Husk monsters can fulfill this craving!
+Fox Fire: can generate phantasmal fire either at will or while emotional. These fires cannot burn, unless willed to do so… Or if one’s emotions grow out of hand.
+Fox Fright: If fear or anxiety becomes too great, may become a fox (either small or giant!) in an attempt to flee and hide.
+Tails To Tell: Growing extra tails, up to nine. This may interfere with balance, or even reach out to brush against other people like they have a mind of their own.
+Thief Feet: Gains a talent for moving quietly and stealthily, even able to hide from the farm monsters and the scarecrows.
+Favored Prey: gains an appetite and a ferocity for cockatrices.
04: MONSTER SHIFT, TAURUS
Hoofed monsters who can appear as minotaurs, satyrs, and centaurs. In addition to having Taurus traits the following also occurs:
+Red Flag: several of the scarecrows carry red rags on them, which flap in the breeze… And have a way of inflaming Taurus tempers, prompting them to charge. On impact, the red fabric shreds but tries to put off one more pulse of fear.
+Eat Your Veggies: on top of a craving for vegetable, Taurus can also heal their wounds or restore their stamina when eating vegetables from these gardens!
+Horn Sharpening: when horns grow in, they can itch and ache on a Drifter’s head. Rubbing and sharpening them against hard surfaces is the best way to dull the discomfort.
+Safety In Numbers: There is a sudden pressing need for Taurus to stay close to others; being alone causes anxiety and irritability.
+Raging Bull: Threats to a Taurus’ herd invokes anger and aggression from a Taurus, and they will do whatever it takes to crush said threat.
+Digging In: Drifters should take care with their steps. Pressing their feet too hard into the ground can cause a small quake… or even compel them to charge someone, if they make eye contact for too long.
+Stir Crazy: going indoors for longer than a minute causes restlessness and agitation in a Taurus, and a pressing need to get back outside.
+Red Flag: several of the scarecrows carry red rags on them, which flap in the breeze… And have a way of inflaming Taurus tempers, prompting them to charge. On impact, the red fabric shreds but tries to put off one more pulse of fear.
+Eat Your Veggies: on top of a craving for vegetable, Taurus can also heal their wounds or restore their stamina when eating vegetables from these gardens!
+Horn Sharpening: when horns grow in, they can itch and ache on a Drifter’s head. Rubbing and sharpening them against hard surfaces is the best way to dull the discomfort.
+Safety In Numbers: There is a sudden pressing need for Taurus to stay close to others; being alone causes anxiety and irritability.
+Raging Bull: Threats to a Taurus’ herd invokes anger and aggression from a Taurus, and they will do whatever it takes to crush said threat.
+Digging In: Drifters should take care with their steps. Pressing their feet too hard into the ground can cause a small quake… or even compel them to charge someone, if they make eye contact for too long.
+Stir Crazy: going indoors for longer than a minute causes restlessness and agitation in a Taurus, and a pressing need to get back outside.
05: HUNTERS
Time passes, and a fog rolls into the farm lands. It obscures much of the surroundings, but one thing does shine through the gloom; red, electric lights that look suspiciously like eyes. A metallic growl echoes through the farm fields, before robot canine shapes step out of the fog. A few of them carry speakers mounted to their shoulders, and a voice echoes out from them:
“All chromehounds, set commands to seek and destroy. Any infected you find, you eliminate. Keep Nirvana safe from their taint at all costs. Now hunt.”
At those orders, the chromehounds spring out and begin to course through the farmlands, hunting for prey. A single chromehound can be handled by a Drifter on their own, but the danger is how often they hunt in pairs or in packs; in that case, a Drifter will need help to either fight or flee from them.
Those in the midst of Kitsune or Taurus changes will also need to deal with a howl the hounds send out; it is pitched at a fight or flight frequency designed to distress monsters. Either by causing intense bouts of fear, or near blinding rage. The intent is to flush any Kitsune and Taurus out of hiding and into the jaws of waiting chomehounds… Though hounds don’t account for monsters also having pack.
“All chromehounds, set commands to seek and destroy. Any infected you find, you eliminate. Keep Nirvana safe from their taint at all costs. Now hunt.”
At those orders, the chromehounds spring out and begin to course through the farmlands, hunting for prey. A single chromehound can be handled by a Drifter on their own, but the danger is how often they hunt in pairs or in packs; in that case, a Drifter will need help to either fight or flee from them.
Those in the midst of Kitsune or Taurus changes will also need to deal with a howl the hounds send out; it is pitched at a fight or flight frequency designed to distress monsters. Either by causing intense bouts of fear, or near blinding rage. The intent is to flush any Kitsune and Taurus out of hiding and into the jaws of waiting chomehounds… Though hounds don’t account for monsters also having pack.
06: CUCCO WARNING
There's one more oddity at the farm; one that isn't immediately hostile to newcomers, though it does regard them with curiosity. It takes the form of a rather innocent (and slightly vapid looking) chicken. Many of them roam the farmstead, trying to avoid any conflict.
A few of them even gather around an abandoned pie eating booth and peck at the remarkably well preserved pies. They might even be willing to share. (And the pies themselves are still edible and tasty, somehow.)
But this good will and tolerance can swiftly come to an end if they are attacked. If agitated, the cuccos can summon more of themselves to swarm the threat, causing plenty of pecks, scratches, and assorted injuries. There's even a ruined scarecrow laying nearby, torn to death by little beaks to show how dangerous they can be.
They also don't take kindly to threats from other denizens of the farm; the robot dogs, scarecrows, and some of the angrier farm life can quickly learn that the hard way!
A few of them even gather around an abandoned pie eating booth and peck at the remarkably well preserved pies. They might even be willing to share. (And the pies themselves are still edible and tasty, somehow.)
But this good will and tolerance can swiftly come to an end if they are attacked. If agitated, the cuccos can summon more of themselves to swarm the threat, causing plenty of pecks, scratches, and assorted injuries. There's even a ruined scarecrow laying nearby, torn to death by little beaks to show how dangerous they can be.
They also don't take kindly to threats from other denizens of the farm; the robot dogs, scarecrows, and some of the angrier farm life can quickly learn that the hard way!
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.
Snow Warning: Mountains rise above both farmlands and forest, and it seems clear that the road leads on towards them. It might be wise to plunder the nearby garage and farmhouses for any winter wear, before going further.
Food Forage: The local fields hold supplies… Some of them unconventional thanks to the Moon Warps. It’s probably best not to ask why corndogs are growing on corn stalks, but they’re still edible enough.
Misty Step: Sometimes the gloom and mist can do strange things to one’s perception, and stride. Walking into the mist can easily tun a Drifter around and place them in a spot they weren’t intending to go: whether that’s back in the garage, in the middle of the approaching Convoy, the middle of a field, or maybe somewhere else entirely!
Holy Cow-Car, Batman: One last quirk of the region, is that occasionally the vehicles here (including Drifter vehicles) seem to have a mind of their own. And that mind is similar to a cow. The vehicles can be found wandering in fenced off grassy areas, flattening grass to a degree where it appears to be eaten.
The vehicles are at least fairly docile, and once they are removed from the fencing revert to being normal cars/motorcycles/etc. But until then, they retain that odd quirk.
Vox | Hazbin Hotel
He was laid out on damp, soaked concrete for god knows how long, a strange lanky man dressed in a tailored suit and sporting what looked to be a flat-screen television for a head. The screen, while he was unresponsive, gradually flickered to life from the initial gray-blue to vibrant color bars. Fingers ending in metallic claws twitched. A spark flit between the antennae jutting from the top of the television-shaped cranium.
"...Rgh..."
Color bars winked out, replaced by a pair of lines, one navy and one a sky blue. They opened into woozy, glowing red eyes as the figure stirred and pushed himself into an upright seat. The clack of claws against the concrete had a distinct metallic quality to it as he brought himself to his feet, took in his surroundings as lying for hours had left his coat looking crumpled to match the haggard expression.
But haggard didn't mean unaware. The smell here was different. Nothing here looked familiar. He'd gone to bed and woke up here, and he was THE top dog in Hell, regardless of what certain others would claim.
Electricity danced up his body, and from his back, four cords emerged like tentacles, live with power.
"Ohoho-kay, here's a freebie: Rule #1 of kidnapping: Bind your mark!" He scanned again for anyone in the shadows, fingers rolling as if preparing for a quick-draw. His lips flashed into a toothy grin as he moved for the doors.
"...Because I don't know what's more hilarious of a possibility: The fact that you were too stupid to tie me up when you had the chance, or how, SOMEHOW, you just don't know w̷ͦ͡h̺o yͩo͢ũ͈̬ f̟ͯ̽ück̭̩ͪe͊d w̮̙ͬit́h͕."
Have care. He's ready to swing at anyone right now.
[II. The White Deaths]
Note to self: The eye doesn't work on constructs, even magical ones. The eye does not work on constructs, even magical ones.
Vox finally tore his gaze from the freaky scarecrow, turned and operated on pure instinct. But the shrieking, gleeful laughter continued, unstoppable from the black and gold winged figures that circled, hunting for another sinner. The glimpses of beings he'd only watched through all of his surveillance equipment while tucked safely away in the tower were now very real... real enough that he could feel the rush of wind off of another spear of light that flew just overhead and embedded into the soft, partially-rotted earth.
The fucking exorcists... he thought he'd seen the last of them, watched them fly off with their tails between their legs. But as browned, drying shreds of corn stalks crunched underfoot, clods of dirt and mud flecked his coat and pants, he couldn't think of much else than finding some form of shelter to seek refuge in.
Vox wouldn't even spare a glance when he all but barreled past (or into, oops) someone else standing at the edge of the corn field.
"HAVE FUN, IT'S YOUR FUNERAL!"
The only warning. Thanks, Vox.
[III. The Quick Blue... Fox...?]
The announcement rang, echoed through the foggy night. 'Seek and destroy'. 'Protect Nirvana at all costs'. He'd heard the name before, but never had that definitive answer of just what they could expect from such an aptly-named place. Either way, Vox wasn't a stupid man, and was moving as quick as he could, carrying a sack of what food he'd managed to find and choice bits of salvage cannibalized from unresponsive vehicles that could really make his car purr.
But then a sensation wracked him. He felt... weird. Something felt like it was crawling beneath his clothes, and he staggered behind a massive bale of rolled hay.
A sudden and rapid body change wasn't on his bingo card, from the way his head had cracked, twisted and reshaped into something sleek and vulpine to endless wires flowing from his back, braiding into sparking tails that fanned from his back. But despite the sprays of blood, the grunts and hollers of pain, and even hitting the ground to be wracked with momentary agony that would replay in his nightmares for the foreseeable future, he gradually arose feeling... better... than he ever had in both of his lives. Newer. Sharper.
He took the food. He took the parts. But they're his now, fair and square. Finders keepers.
Vox- or whatever he was now- snapped his head to the right when he heard a rapid barking. Along the curved, mask-like screen that comprised his head, several red eyes flickered to life and crinkled with glee. A segment parted into freshly-formed lower jaw filled with jagged blue teeth.
He moved like a shot, disappearing into a neighboring field. Forget the damn dogs. He needed more things.
He caught the scent of someone else. Oh? Another mark. Maybe he can nab their things too. Come along, puppies, be a nice distraction...!
[ ooc: Keeping Vox at season 1 for now, as season 2 is in progress. Won't spoil you, either! I'll match your format. ]
I
That being said, his feathers fluff at Vox's sudden reaction, wings open and ready to act as a shield, should the strange demon make any sudden moves. One would be forgiven for mistaking Akechi for a demon as well. With how bestial he's become, he certainly wouldn't look out of place in Hell.
One hand hovers over the hilt of his saber, but it remains sheathed for now. Though his ears fold back and his knees bend, he remains on the defensive for now.
"The ones who summoned us are regrettably not among us. If they were, there would most certainly have been a bloodbath."
Cool art!!
"...'Us'?" Vox couldn't see the lie in the summoners being missing. The candles looked spent, and he saw not a single robed figure. There were no ritual knives, no blood that he could see or smell. Really, he wanted to be so flattered that someone would summon him like some sort of god.
Eyyy, thanks! B] It was fun working out this trashboy's design.
"Correct. There are a handful of others, all whisked to this world, summoned to take part in a 'ritual' to mend the damage dealt by its original inhabitants." He barked out a dry laugh, a wry smirk unfurling along his snout. "It seems new arrivals appear every two months or so, and whatever power beckoned us here saw you as worthwhile to their cause."
Whether or not that was the case... well, who was he to say? They were strangers, ultimately, and if the Tears saw someone like him as worthwhile, then the bar wasn't especially high in the first place.
no subject
"So we're here to clean up someone else's mess." Not a question, but an assessment. Vox wasn't against work by a long shot- the others liked to call him a workaholic and fuck them for that- but the idea of being voluntold to do some kind of ritual clearly didn't sit well.
He planted a hand upon a hip and sighed. Then he grunted and flinched as some leak in the roof allowed a thin stream of water to leak in from above. To his luck, it was just inches from him, but it was enough to make him jump a quick two-step further away before giving the roof a sharp, bright red glare.
"...What a welcome."
no subject
Folding his arms, he peered out toward the garage entrance. "There's a convoy that provides us with shelter and... bare necessities. You'll likely find a designated vehicle as well, but our 'host' couldn't be bothered to repair them first, let alone give us straight answers."
no subject
He felt a little lump in his coat. Vox reached into the inner pocket, and from it extracted a small set of keys that offered a soft jingle. He always had a driver, the limo... but he never kept the keys to anything, his personal wing and chambers all sealed by layers of code and passwords.
He looked up with the mention of designated vehicles. ...Ah.
"...I can fix a car." He was also, let's say, persuasive. Give him thirty seconds alone with this 'host', and he could get the guy singing the answers while offering a lively tap dance.
"I'd imagine there are some totaled husks out there, too, if cars are just lying around waiting. Good source of spare parts and scrap metal."
no subject
As Akechi considered the idea, he glanced around the garage. "There should be some tools to work with. As you said, it's entirely possible to scavenge parts from unclaimed vehicles, and on the subject of husks..."
Heh. A soft chuckle escaped him. "You may find metallic shells here. Monsters burst from them, but I imagine anything left behind might be useful if melted and recycled."
That would likely be more in Donatello's wheelhouse, but coincidentally or not, Vox had planted an interesting seed all the same.
no subject
"Monsters from shells... uh-huh..." Distracted, he found a few basics. These'll come in handy. Plus you always wanted two or three of these in particular, in case you needed different size--
Vox froze. His head turned on a literal swivel, impossibly looking directly backward at him. "I'm sorry- what?"
no subject
"It's as I said. There are metallic Husks scattered throughout this wasteland, containing people whose bodies have completely transformed. Those that emerge border on feral, their humanity long since consumed."
He recounted it with a dramatic flair, as if telling a ghost story over a campfire. Still, it was pertinent information to share.
1
"I know, right? They're being real fucking sloppy with this whole kidnapping thing," he remarked, stepping into the doorway proper to lean his shoulder against it "I don't think they've taken the time to get all the deets on who they're fucking with." Or else he was sure he wouldn't be anyone's prime target, either. Or maybe he would.
"Can't say I know anything about what the fuck's going on, though. I'd love to point you in our kidnapper's direction because damn." The last part was undeniably appreciative. Appreciative of the energy, the threat, the everything. "I bet that'd be a hell of a show."
no subject
He was more than okay with that.
"That's the idea." But give him a moment, his voice was a little more lofi than he intended. With a flicker of his screen, he needed to refresh.
"And who are you supposed to be?" Other than catching hypothermia, anyway.
no subject
"Kavinsky." Skipping his first name entirely and absolutely (maybe) on his way towards catching hypothermia. "Woke up in that circle myself like, twenty, thirty minutes ago." A pause, then. "I was dressed for summer." If he'd had any idea he was going to end up here--well, actually. His sleeveless tee he'd ditched some time before trying out the chainsaw Ronan had dreamed wouldn't have done him a whole lot of good. But it still would've been better than nothing.
"I like your-" he gestured to himself, up and down, to indicate everything--because pointing was rude. "That's a slick suit." No pun intended, considering the wet concrete they all seemed to be waking up on.
But then, an important question. "Did you hear a radio when you were waking up?" There was one part that kept looping in his thoughts. You're mostly hu-. Human. Mostly human. That had to be the rest of the word. And that was the part that either intrigued him, or unsettled him because it meant he was seen, that whatever or whoever was bringing them here knew he was something more.
no subject
Vox angled his head with the compliment, and brushed off his sleeves. "It is, isn't it? Got an associate who designed it, and if she could hear you, she'd get a bigger head."
But, whoof- who knows what else he'd find here? He wasn't going to just wear his suit and sweat in it day in and day out... he needed to figure out changes of clothing.
Vox quirked a brow with the question. "...I did, yeah. Something about a Convoy and a whole bundle of other shit. I need some answers, and it sounds like whoever put out that transmission sounds like the guy to track down."
Besides, I need to get the fuck out of this drippy shack before I start to rust.
no subject
Kavinsky needed more clothes, himself, but that was a secondary concern right now, maybe even tertiary. He had a lot of other things on his mind that felt way more pressing. Like the whole 'magically kidnapped' thing and 'what the fuck is going on' in addition to that.
"Alright. Yeah, same. Just wanted to make sure I wasn't losing it yet." And make sure, if he could, that he hadn't heard anything unique. But he wasn't going to say that. He wasn't going to say he wanted to know sooner rather than later if he'd been taken by the kind of people who'd want to get their claws in him and never let go.
"And I know how you feel. I've got a hell of a lot of questions and not nearly enough answers. I haven't seen anyone else around yet, so that sucks." He shrugged a pale shoulder, a bit more frustrated with everything than he let on. "I figure there's gotta be someone, somewhere who knows something." But it sure wasn't him.