JANUARY TDM/EVENT

[monstertruckers]

code

The storm drives the Convoy to the very summit of the mountains, before hitting a blinding pitch. The wind howls and drives snow in a way that promises to freeze everything… And there’s also a twist of smoke in the air, to further blind everything.

There’s one thing visible through the storm: a massive fortress clinging to the side of the mountain. The Convoy pulls up into the shelter. It seems this will be the best place to wait out the weather, even if the storm lasts for weeks.

It’s a cold welcome for new arrivals. The garage offers scant protection from the elements, and a winter storm rages outside. Snow, lighting, and thunder all blend together and do their best to break the windows and doors of the structure.

The storm itself shows no signs of abating, at least until several days have passed. So it’s up to the new arrivals to figure out how to survive the storm, find better shelter… And weather the strange changes foisted onto them.

01: SUMMONING CIRCLE

New Drifters arrive to a cold and half frozen garage, almost swallowed up by snow drifts. The Convoy is just visible through sheets of snow falling from the skies, and it is parked in the shelter of a nearby fortress. Getting out of the garage and reaching the fortress will take some work, though.

Starting with digging out through the snow. At least there’s a shovel or two inside the garage and the gas station. But digging through the snow is still cold work, and it’s imperative to duck back in the garage and find ways to warm up.

There’s still a small fire burning in the corner of the garage, near the summoning circle. It curiously doesn’t seem to need fuel to keep burning… Though throwing more on it will certainly increase the heat of the flames. Be advised that the fire will also burn clothing and flesh if a Drifter gets too close to it.

02: FORTRESS

The abandoned fortress offers some reprieve from the elements… But the prior battles have found a way to seep into the stones. Ice and Fire both have an effect on the surroundings.
+FIRE Condition: Arcane lava is flowing through the foundations and seeping up through the stones of the building. This is especially clear in the kitchen and dining hall. It may be toasty to the touch, but it also threatens to set things aflame; objects and people alike. Drifters weak to fire will suffer from the increased temperatures.
+ICE Condition: The extremes of the fortress are freezing over in enchanted ice, leaving only the main hall and kitchen with any heat. Drifters who lack ice affinity risk frost bite and hypothermia while exploring the other areas of Bastion. Direct contact with the ice also carries a risk of encasing the limb or the entire Drifter in ice. Might need some help getting chipped out.

In the midst of all this, there are still rooms and beds available for those who want a change of pace from the convoy, or bedrolls for those who want to camp out in the main hall.

03: START UP

After digging out, one can see that there are various cars surrounding the garage. Some of them parked directly outside and sheltered from the worst of the storm. But a few are further out, and will also need to be dug out of the snow.

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 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 supplies… Now it’s just a matter of finding some extra hands.

04: WILD ELEMENTS

Even when taking shelter in the fortress, the storms from outside have a way of seeping through the bricks. And trying to take root inside any Drifters. Cold mists and winds seep into the castle, along with fire traveling across the floors and lightning crashing against the roof.

Drifters exposed to extreme elements will find those same elements seeping into their blood.

Teeth also grow along portions of the walls in long fangs, ready to snag at any newcomers. Drawing blood on those teeth can result in changes in the new arrivals… As well as pulling a monster out of the hallway to try and draw more blood.

These monsters frequently manifest as:
+Gyuki, a spider and bull demon fusion.
+YinYang, a Frankenstein abomination
+And Malzeno, a strange eldritch dragon.

05: FUEL PUMPS

The fortress also holds a network of pipes leading through the halls and connecting to the gas station. Text from the Convoy asks for at least a few Drifters to follow the pipes to their source, and activate them. Following those pipes leads to a chamber in the base of the fortress, with basins full of liquid.

Glowing and quicksilver liquid, at that. Liquid that looks like it could have been poured straight out of the moon. An inscription on the tanks reads “Moonshard fuel refinement” while a stack of papers details the various attempts to distill moonshards into an energy usable by humans without mutating them. It seems they’ve mostly succeeded with this attempt: once the valves are turned on, the fuel can be pumped into the Convoy and top off almost depleted fuel tanks.

But there is still a risk. Coming into contact with the fuel can instill a sudden, ravenous hunger and push new changes to the front. Prolonged exposure activates all traits at once, and will only revert the person when another monster has been hunted down, and their energy absorbed.

06: IF THESE WALLS COULD TALK

The walls of Bastion reach an impressive 20 feet up and stretch for long distances… And have Husks merged into them, often in the hallways and occasionally in the rooms. The Husks clearly belong to either the Silver Tear or the Steel Wardens, given the insignias on them. Many of them are locked together, frozen in a fight. And their last words and thoughts are written on the walls in gold and silver script.

Most of the words are frantic, about defending the moon shards from heretics or freeing the moon shards from confinement. But if any of the words are read aloud, the Husks react by merging together and spawning a berserk heavy tank/tankceratops. Or a large Burner type monster. OR a dragon dinosaur with exploding, punching fists. Drifters may also get caught up in the monster changes, and fuse their own monster forms together!

07: MONSTER FUSE

An element saturation isn’t the only strange thing in the fortress. Anyone who makes contact with the fortress stones will find themselves building a resonance with a fellow Drifter. This grows stronger the more time they spend in the fortress.

Until finally the bond solidifies on the next change the Drifters go through and hits a fever pitch. The next threat they encounter WILL force a transformation. When that happens, their next change fuses their two monster forms together into something new.

Their fusion form is a combination of two Drifter’s traits. It is also twice the size it would normally be, and is well suited to taking on any giant sized monsters. It can even give Drifters a brief insight into the memories of their partner, as the fusion takes place.

When this happens, both Drifters can switch control over their merged form. Those with greater synchronism will have more control, while those who squabble and fight will find that their monster form becomes more feral and savage. This fusion lasts until the threat abates: when that happens, the fusion breaks apart, and Drifters return to their prior state.

08: STORM CALL

There’s something outside that isn’t just the storm; it calls out in a howl that can make the blood run cold, and also pulls at one’s feet. Until it hits a point where the Bastion doesn’t feel like a restful place. Drifters who hear the storm call need to step outside and find the source; the storm itself isn’t particular on if they search on their own feet, or behind some wheels.

Drifters who travel on their own feet will swiftly be overwhelmed by the storm, and a moon warp hiding in the snow, and forced to transform. It doesn’t help that there’s wild saber-tooth Barioth wyverns prowling the wilds and ready to pounce.

Being inside a vehicle helps to shield them from the worst of the storm and the changes, and also gives Drifters more traversal options:
Tough cars are capable of wading through even the deepest snow without getting bogged down, as well as towing any stricken or stuck vehicles out of the drifts.
Fast vehicles can follow rivers of fire and lava that move through the wilds, without burning up due to prolonged exposure.

Eventually Drifters will find their way towards the summit of the mountain, and the discovery waiting beyond.

09: MONSTER CHANGES

Between the weird fuel, the teeth in the fortress, and hostile elements trying to force changes, new arrivals can quickly find their humanity getting worn away and new monster transformations taking place.
With the cold weather and regal structures, the environment calls out to Undead. As long as the elements rage, all Undead traits are available and also:
+Warm Blood: Undead can easily track living bodies through the wilds and the fortress, sensing the warmth of their blood in contrast to the storm.
+Rivalry: Tends to form rivalry with other Undead monsters, becoming territorial and protective of potential food sources.
+Ice Affinity: Undead find themselves better preserved by the cold and thriving in it, energized and strengthened by the snow, and even taking on glowing blue veins and eyes.
+Fire Fear: The presence of fire inspires aversion, and even terror and need to flee from it. Smaller flames like candles provoke unease, larger flames like a bonfire result in more panic.
+Holy Symbols: Presence of Steel Warden symbols (a sword piercing moon) can cause unease in Undead, and even repel them a location.
+Snow Shift: Exposure to snow forces the Undead into a more bestial form. This could resemble a bat, wolf, or deer/horse/bull.

10: FROZEN HEART

At the summit of the mountains is a collection of freakishly tall and twisted trees. In their branches is a collection of frozen hearts growing like strange fruit. And further up is a massive object that looks like a deer skull with branching antlers. The ice storm flows from its eyes and mouth… And it shows no signs of ceasing without destroying the skull.

The frozen hearts are giving off a cold aura that freezes anything that doesn’t resist ice. Drifters will need to neutralize the hearts to dispel the cold aura. The hearts can be melted by fire, shot down with ranged weapons, magic, etc. When burned, the hearts give off a smoke that causes a terrible hunger and need to hunt in anyone who inhales it. Shattered heart shards also rain down and embed themselves in Drifters, and cause a berserk fury in those they cut.

But with each felled heart the barrier of the skull weakens, as does the storm. When the last of the frozen hearts falls, the storm skull fractures and breaks apart like brittle ice. Drifters can deliver the finishing blows, ending the storm in the process. After that, the way down the mountain becomes clear, and the Convoy may continue down without worry.

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.

Fortress Library: Books and screens seem to have fused together. Assorted data about monsters is on display here; everything from hunting strategy to contradicting praise of their strength. (Read: all lore information from the monster pages is available IC.)

Dining Hall: This time around the gas station and garage are empty of supplies… But there’s plenty of preserved foods in the castle kitchen and dining hall. Though the hot dishes are almost painfully spicy, and the cold served foods can almost freeze a mouth shut.

Snow Fields: Surrounding the fortress are fields of snow, ready to bog down anyone who wanders too far into them. It would be next to impossible for anyone to make it far on two feet without the aid of a vehicle… Or the aid of a monstrous transformation.

Fire Snow: The storm can wildly swing between temperatures, from freezing to burning with how the snowflakes fluctuate. They can suck warmth out of a Drifter’s body on contact, or risk burning any exposed skin.

Armory: The Steel Wardens kept an armory and arena close by for sparring. Various weapons and armor are stored here; some antiquated, some modern and augmented with technology. And everything but the older models are badly damaged by the elements; frozen over and metal crackled, or half melted from fire. They won’t have much use as weapons, but could be used as metal materials.

View from the Peaks: When the storm clears, one can look out from the peaks and see what’s next. A strange, twisted landscape stretches out below the peaks. And beyond that is something on the horizon; a massive city reaching upwards, and the buildings intact and gleaming. Going back to the Convoy reveals a new update in the database: Nirvana is near. And will be reached in an estimated 60 days from now.


NAVIGATION || RESERVES || APPLICATIONS

Comments

Goro Akechi | Persona 5 Royal | Chimera/Nekomata (Current Character)

[undyingcrow]

1. Summoning Circle

[It's like clockwork, really. Every other month, they reach a new garage. It just so happens that this one's horridly frozen and submerged in the snow. Fortunately, Akechi's chimera form grants him ever so convenient fire breath.

So, with care and precision, he melts his way through some of the worst of the snow, all in an effort to clear a path. It runs the risk of freezing over again, of course, and becoming more slippery as a consequence, but it's a start.

Of course, not everyone would take kindly to such a monstrous being approaching, particularly now that his face has lost nearly all of its humanity.

But no matter.

Dusting himself off, he surveys his surroundings.]

Don't panic. It won't do you any good.

2. Fuel Pumps

[Naturally, Akechi follows the lead to the fuel pumps, once he's surveyed the fortress. A fuel source is vital, after the hardships they've endured these past few months.

Once he reaches the fuel chamber, he reads the inscriptions on the tanks with narrowed eyes. Moonshard refinement, eh?]

Then it's just like what they attempted in the tunnels...

[At least here, it seems there are no captive souls, but that hardly makes it ethical.

Growling under his breath, he moves to activate one of the valves.]

We should tread carefully. I doubt this fuel is entirely safe.

3. If These Walls Could Talk/Monster Fuse

[The words scrawled into the walls grab Akechi's interest, just as the fuel inscriptions did. Clashing motives, contradictory messages... It's about what he expected, but he can't help but mutter the messages under his breath.

Evidently, this was a mistake.

The once immobile husks snap to life suddenly. Worse still, they meld together. Akechi's feathers fluff. His eyes widen. He sprungs back, drawing his saber as one of the fused abominations takes the form of a strange, draconic beast with enormous fists.

Fists that fly forward with a literally explosive fury.

This may be a problem.]

4. Frozen Heart

[Climbing the summet was already a nightmare in and of itself, but this? Well, it's simply annoying.

Snarling, Akechi spits fiery blasts at the nearest hearts, while raising his shotgun as a backup option.

The problem comes from the smoke resulting from his fiery attacks.

His stomach rumbles. His mouth water, and he coughs wildly before beating his wings in a desperate bid to part the smoke and keep his thoughts at ease.

But he's so hungry...]

5. Fortress Library

[The library grants a reprieve from the fighting and ravenous hunger that resulted from said fighting. Suffice it to say, Akechi gets right to work, perusing the strange book-tablets and transcribing notes both on paper and on his laptop.]

"Those who turn wild are left at the whims of the moon; we can only guess at the plans the Creator has for them, but it is not our place to interfere."

[Akechi scoffs at the notion.]

It's absurd how they refuse to question the whims of this 'Creator.' To think they'd condone loss of mind as their goddess' "intentions..."

[It's not surprising, but it is irritating all the same.]

But I suppose 'chaotic' is one way to describe me, even before I had changed. Perhaps this deity of theirs has a sense of humor...

6. Wild Card

[Open to other shenanigans! Additionally, you can find Akechi on the fusion plotting post here!

Prose or brackets are both fine.]

2

[sugaronthecream]

[Though Alastor had followed along to see what all this jazz-loving youth was up to, he hadn't given much thought to the fuel until properly seeing it. Interesting... not like gasoline at all - of course it wouldn't be, it wasn't when fueling the cars properly, but even so.]

Is it unsafe from being combustible, or is it magic? Or perhaps both!

Donnie || Volare: Harpy / Infernal: Cerberus || Current Char

[purplexing]

Donnie is quite sick of the cold, thank you very much! He's not at all thrilled that they've come up all this way to somewhere that looks somehow even colder than everything's been. It's very upsetting! Promise of fuel or not!


I. The Great Indoors
At least inside proves to be much better than out in the elements. Or at least it does at first, if only because the frigid winds and snow are kept out. But Donnie always finds himself getting antsy when he's stuck anywhere indoors for long now, without some open space above.

But hey! It's warmer in here! Wait, is that...lava? "Boy, they sure don't do things in halves around here," he mutters.

The warmth however is enough to keep him from reconsidering returning to the frigid Turtle Tank, especially since the heat isn't working in it for some reason. After perhaps a more than singed feather or two, Donnie's learned to keep well clear of direct contact from the heat sources.


II. Sweet Salvage
Cold as it is, it seems nothing will keep this turtle from going through a veritable treasure trove of forgotten armaments. He flits all about the collection of weapons and armor, already suspecting much of it won't function, but as a long-time salvager he's already thinking past finding things intact and looking to potential parts for other uses.

He hisses as he finds some things cold to the touch, tucking clawed hands against him as he considers other things to paw over.


III. Fuel
Of course, a Donnie in motion tends to stay in motion, and with an objective directly given them from the Convoy itself, the winged turtle lad doesn't waste much time in seeking out the fuel sources. Besides, if they want to get out of here and beyond, they need as much fuel as they can get!

"Whoa..."

He can't help but marvel at the stuff once they find it, like tanks of mercury. His brow furrows as the signs only confirm what he suspects it really is. With information present, he hungrily goes through them, taking pictures for documentation as he does so.

"All right, so we just need to get these babies running," he says to whoever else is around. "Help me turn these things and we'll be in business."


IV. I'm Afraid of Togetherness
It's difficult not to touch things around the fortress, and when they don't particularly threaten to burn or freeze you, Donnie has no reason to think there might be any further consequence.

As much as the place unsettles him, he's eager to explore every bit that he can, but he's always more inclined to tag along with someone than go off anywhere by himself.

"...this place needs an upgrade on their decor," he mumbles once they come across any of the walls that appear to have bodies frozen within. "I'm sure the whole 'locked in eternal combat' thing is to someone's tastes but it gets old pretty quick."


V. Choose Your Own Adventure
((OOC: Anything else you wanna do? A tweak off of one of the above? Go for it! Also, timing can be shiftable for things so don't feel like they're locked in according to the listing!))

IV

[propatriamori]

"I can't say I'm a fan myself."

This is almost hauntingly nostalgic, after the last few months of chaos. Donnie is exploring on the ground, and Edward--in his human form today--is on the ceiling, creeping along above him. He hasn't been much help with the exploration aspects, being above most everything of interest, but he's gathered some metal from old, near collapsing chandeliers, and he's also keeping Donnie company.

He tried staying on the floor and walking next to Donnie like a normal person, but the first time they came to a room with bodies frozen in the walls, Edward had gone pale as a sheet and retreated to the ceiling immediately. He can't tell Donnie that the walls remind him too much of the war, of the trenches, and that if he's surrounded by that again he'll go mad. It's easier once he's on the ceiling. He is somehow above it, both literally and figuratively, when he's up here.

There's another chandelier in this room, creaking and nearly falling off already, and Edward crawls over to it.

"Is there anything down there you can hide behind, if this thing lets go?" Some of the candles that once lit the chandelier are still usable, and Edward carefully harvests them.

II

[undyingcrow]

Likewise, Akechi's come to investigate the armaments, though when he sees Donnie's reaction to the cold, his ears perk forward, and he steadily approaches.

"Need a hand? I may be able to counteract the cold."

II

[taediosum]

Taking a break from actually being warm for once, Arcade is (less enthusiastically, but still) also poking around the fortress's more interesting (somewhat less husk-laden) corners. The armory isn't his first pick, given there's not much he can do with broken, old weaponry, himself - but maybe there's something worthwhile to see, either way.

He's not surprised to find someone there, already, let alone Donnie. But that hiss manages to raise an eyebrow.

"That bad?" He hasn't quite noticed the state of disrepair. Or just how many of those ruined weapons are encased in ice (or melted completely).

Sonia Nevermind | Dangan Ronpa 2 | New Character

[murdarchy]

A: Summoning Circle

[At this point in her life, waking up somewhere unexpected is a disturbingly common occurrence. Sonia rises to her feet, dusting off her dress and taking quick stock of her body.

She sees. So it's like that...

A quick survey of her surroundings gives her only troubling news, but also confirms she's no longer on Jabberwock Island. At least, not anywhere that looks like it did then.

She should probably try to find a way out of the snow, but first, she crouches with interest by the summoning circle itself once again, curiously running her finger along the outer rim.]

If only Gundham were here... I'm sure he could tell me what this means.

B: Frozen Vehicles

[The armored jeep is a familiar enough sight: it reminds Sonia of the kind she would ride in while touring her nation's military facilities, or going on diplomatic visits to neighboring states. She can tell that the glass is bulletproof, and the doors are reinforced steel.

And she has the keys! Convenient.]

Yes... this will make a fine vehicle!

[There's just one problem... how is she getting it out of all this snow and ice? She's not exactly weak, but she's hardly strong enough to dig it out herself. She'll need help if she's going to get anywhere.

She turns away from the jeep, her eyes lighting on the first person she happens to see.]

You there! I require assistance to remove the ice from this vehicle, if you would be willing to lend a hand.

[Though she words it like a choice, her tone has the confidence and authority of someone who is used to being obeyed.]

C: Walls of the Bastion

[The decor in this place is certainly spooky. Sonia still moves with confidence as she explores, though, wearing a large coat she found that bundles her up against the harsh chill.

The husks in the wall are certainly a pitiful sight. Sonia wonders if they were human before, or if they're something else. Aliens, maybe. It all certainly feels like something out of a science fiction drama.]

How strange... This writing... Hmmm...

[Someone may want to stop her before she reads it out loud.]

D: Wildcard!

[[OOC: if you have another idea, feel free to hit me with it, or contact me at dandywonderous.

I know with the remake coming out that some people may be avoiding DR2 spoilers. Sonia is taken from the latest point in the game I can take her, and spoilers may come up naturally in conversation, so please let me know if you'd like me to avoid anything specific! And just don't have your character ask her too many pointed questions about what she was doing before this lol]]

b

[purplexing]

[He's trying not to be a turtlesical here and had only stopped because he'd thought he'd seen something shiny- immediately regretting it once he'd landed because any moment not moving means more chance for the cold to cling.

The voice addressing him comes but a second after he begins to spread his wings to take flight again, and he looks a bit annoyed as he glances over, quickly pulling them back over him to trap what precious heat he has.

Donnie holds back a sigh, looking around the snowy surroundings, but it doesn't look like many are around to be otherwise offering any assistance. Nor is there any guarantee that the weather will lighten up any time soon to make the task any easier.

Okay, he releases that sigh then, the wispy vapor vanishing almost immediately amongst the whiteness.]

Ugh, okay, let's make this quick before we both freeze our tails off.

Paladin Danse | Fallout 4 | Werewolf | Returning Character

[androidvictoriam]

I. Summoning Circle | I Can Feel the Chill of This Place Through My Suit

[ Danse is not a stranger to deja vu. Hard to be, when neither the Institute nor the Railroad has truly infallible mindwipe technology, whatever they both might say. But it's difficult to focus on that sensation when one wakes up halfway frozen through on a hard stone floor, in clothing not exactly sufficient for the weather.

Better for that, though, than it could be. The skintight and violently orange jumpsuit he's wearing does not offer a great deal of protection from elements other than fire, but he does have thick leather gloves and a fleece-lined bomber jacket overtop of it. The first time he'd woken up on the floor of a Revan garage, it had been January in his own world, and only the fact that he'd just stepped out of his power armor had prevented him from being dressed in suitable layers. The moon warp, in its helpful convenience, had zapped him directly back to the moment he'd left.

And then apparently reconsidered. From Danse's perspective, it's simply been one hell of a confusing and foggy week, distracted as if by the details of an unusually strange and vivid dream. As those details rapidly begin to resolve again, he recalls--wasn't it autumn when he was here last? ]

...Hello? Is anybody there?

II. Fortress | Proceed Carefully, These Fortifications May Still Be Inhabited

[ Scouring abandoned buildings for useful salvage is second-nature to Danse whether here or at home, but never does he get more excited to do so than in buildings that look like they might have armories.

Once again, this place has denied him his power armor, and once again, he curses this woefully, because that thing has been set on fire by a rocket engine with him inside it and left him with nothing but grouchy, sweaty first-degree burns. But the underarmor helps a bit with that, and the ice proves somewhat surprisingly more problematic. ]

I remember the squires liking to play a game they called 'The Floor Is Lava.' Never seen what that would literally look like before.

[ This called loudly over his shoulder, while searching with reasonable cheer for something he can use to de-shell the nearest hapless iced-over drifter. Don't worry, buddy, he'll get you out. ]

III. If These Walls Could Talk | Time To Send This Creature Back To Hell

[ Ah, the Steel Wardens. His brief sojourn back home, having to carefully plot out his travel routes to avoid being shot by their counterparts, has not made Danse feel any less weird or guilty about seeing their too-familiar insignia around. Or any less strangely curious about them, enough to read over this writing first in silence and then, as he sinks deeper into thought, murmuring along with it.

If there is one thing that can be said for the Brotherhood of Steel, though, it's that reading their Codex aloud does nothing worse than make the less-indoctrinated roll their eyes. It does not leave anyone abruptly facing down a goddamn tank-treaded triceratops. He yanks the laser rifle from his back and levels it, stance squaring. ]

I'll hold its attention! If it doesn't have an underbelly, try aiming for the mouth!

IV. Monster Fuse | Aim For the Fusion Core

[ There's no such thing as getting to re-adjust to the monster nonsense, is there. Having to take a knife to a perfectly good flightsuit to accommodate the mortifying burden of a tail again, bad enough. The omnipresent threat of hulking out into something much larger and wolfier, even worse. But at least those are all things Danse remembers well enough to be able to use the coping mechanisms he'd developed before.

But this is beyond the pale. This is invasive beyond anything he'd sucked it up and dealt with last time, confusing beyond anything he'd been forced to wrap his brain around before, and requires a very different kind of cooperation than what he's been accustomed to in any military unit. He remembers, unbidden, the convoy's springtime trip through that desolate broken gravity-defying valley, because the way his mind and dreams hadn't been his own is the only frame of reference he has for the way his body is now shared.

But this does not actually help him move it. There's a lot that isn't helping right now. ]

Damn it! Watch where you're--

V. Wildcard

[ Hit me up at layonmacduff if you'd like to plot something else, or just toss something at me here! If your character met Danse at all during his previous tenure in the game, or was just around for a while prior to November, he'll probably remember them. He has a tough truck for towing if necessary, he'll be super into helping shovel show, and I like the idea of any/all of the micro-encounters. ]

I

[murdarchy]

Yes? Hello?

[Sonia turns from where she's stopped to warm herself by the fire, noticing that someone else has stumbled out of the strange ritual circle. She's dressed even less prepared for the snow than Danse is, wearing a dress that's tailored like a school uniform and nothing to protect her arms or hands.

So she's not alone. That's probably a good thing.]

Hello! So you have also been summoned here.

[Whatever that means, exactly.]

Riza Hawkeye || FullMetal Alchemist || Elemetnal: Fire Nymph

[miss_sniper]

Summoning Circle

[The blood on her jacket was still sticky when she had passed out. There was a problem though. This wasn't where she had passed out at. This wasn't the underground lab where she was supposed to find Father with Mustang. Her hand went to her throat to feel for the wound that was supposed to be there. Her throat had been slit.

The wound was gone, but the blood on her jacket was still there. Due to the chill, it was no longer sticky. It was hard and frozen. She looked around, her eyes scanning the garage and then the summoning circle below her. It didn't look like any alchemy circle she had ever seen before.

Carefully, she stood up. She didn't know how much blood she had actually lost and didn't want to faint if she moved to quickly. She moved over towards the fire. Something about it drew her closer and it wasn't just for the warmth.]

Fortress

[Once she was out of the circle, it was time to look around. She didn't know what was going on here, but she was determined to figure out what was really going on. She made her way towards the fortress. It reminded her of General Armstrong and the Briggs fort in the northern part of Amestris. The deep snow and biting wind were just like how it was up there.

She felt something drawing her towards the kitchen. The warmth of the lava felt good. She didn't get too close to it, she didn't want to get hurt. She really didn't know why she had been drawn here, but for now, she was going to stay here for a while.

She turned, hearing footsteps close by.]

Hello?

Micro-Encounter: Armory

[After finally pulling herself away from the warmth of the lava, Riza decided to look around even more. She eventually found herself in an armory. She looked around. There were a lot of things that she didn't recognize. Guns with odd attachments and some other rather odd weapons. A lot of them were burnt and melted in key areas, making them unusable.

She continued to dig around for a while, until she found a few things that she could actually use. She managed to get lucky enough to find an older, bolt action rifle, similar to what she had used before, and it was in usable condition. The stock was a bit scorched, but not broken. Now if only she could find a scope.

She continued to dig through the pile of broken guns, checking for a scope that wasn't half melted or had the lenses cracked in some way.]

Damn it.

[Another broken scope.]

Start up

[After what seemed like forever in the armory, Riza finally had something useable that she could defend herself with. A single pistol and a rifle. Good enough for her. Now she needed transport. She heard talk about vehicles being out in the snow somewhere.

She began with the ones closest to the garage. It didn't take her very long to find something that drew her closer. She carefully moved around the car, noticing that all four tires were flat.]

I'm not going to be able to fix those all on my own.

Wildcard

[Wanna plot something else? Maybe a fusion? You can DM this journal or hit me up at plusheitaco!]

Summoning Circle

[undyingcrow]

[As Riza gets her bearings, a sudden burst of flame burns through the snow closer to the garage entrance. Within the newly melted hole, a strange creature strides inside.

Ah. A new face, which means there are likely others close by. Dusting the snow off his clothes, he straightens his posture.]

Curious. They hadn't left fires before...

Maximus | Fallout | Celestial | New Character, Current Player

[stolenvalour]

I. Summoning Circle

[It had been hard, falling asleep the night before. It always is, after any kind of battle. That had been the first time he'd seen a real battle, though, two large groups in conflict slugging it out with each other, people dying all around him. It had been different than training exercises with the Brotherhood, or bashing around in wasteland settlements in the power armour. It had been dirtier, uglier, more chaotic than he would have thought, and Max's sleep had been restless and thin all night.]

[But apparently not so thin that someone wasn't able to scoop him up and deposit him somewhere completely new. Falling asleep on a concrete slab in the middle of the remnants of the New California Republic and waking up on a different concrete slab in the middle of a freezing garage? Not recommended.]

[Max gets up and starts exploring, shivering despite the red bomber jacket he's wearing. He's a California boy, and even after the apocalypse, California is still a whole lot warmer than this.]

Hello? Is anyone there?

V. Fuel Pumps

[This place might be new and unfamiliar, but Max is nothing if not committed to doing his duty, and volunteers readily enough to explore. He travels with a small group deeper into the fortress, following pipes, until they come to a series of pumps.]

[The fuel pumps are oddly familiar, with their glowing silver and quiet hum, but Max isn't fool enough to touch them. This kind of tech is beyond him, always has been, and he'd rather not break anything that he's not supposed to break.]

[The energy in the room is strange, though. The air feels heavy, charged with something, and the top of Max's shoulders start itching. He works one hand under his jacket and starts scratching, unaware that something besides his hand is moving under the fabric, making it shift and ripple along his shoulders.]

So, now what?

X. Frozen Hearts

[Various body parts hanging from trees doesn't bother Max. It's not exactly a common sight in the wasteland, but it's not completely unknown either. The icy aura pouring out of them is new, though, and he can't say he's a fan.]

[If he had a gun, he'd try shooting them down. Unfortunately, the only guns available around here are ancient relics, not even pre-war but pre-pre-war, and Max doesn't trust them to not explode in his hands. What he does have, courtesy of those weird glowing tanks, are a trio of dark grey wings, sprouting from the back of each shoulder. When he moves them--he can't call it flapping, they don't really flap at all--they start whirling in a tight circle, lifting him off the ground. It's like he's grown vertibird rotors from his shoulders.]

[He'd rather have his power armour.]

[Regardless, he uses his wings to lift himself up and level with the hearts. From here, he pokes at them with the wooden butt of one of the ancient guns from the armoury, trying to dislodge them. To anyone wandering underneath him, he call out.]

Watch out. Don't let it hit you when it falls.

Wild Card

[Would you like something different? Go wild! I'm open to anything!]

[vaultless]

[Lucy is dead.

Well, no, she is very much alive. She can feel her heart thud in her chest, the way the cold pricks at her skin even through her vault suit, which she is quickly learning was not designed for these temperatures. She can even see her breath, each exhale pouring from her lips like smoke from a bonfire or a bomb crater.

But she is also dead. She has to be. After all, the last thing she remembers is the maddening ache of thirst, the way her body had sagged against the ropes binding her to the cross, and the way the world had blurred and tilted before her eyes, greying at the edges and--

So, yes. Probably dead. But also alive. Which doesn't make sense, but then, life hasn't really made sense to Lucy much since she left her vault. But nobody is shooting at her, which is starting to feel like a novelty these days.

But before she can ponder more on the state of her mortality and how absolutely topsy-turvy it is that a lack of gunfire is becoming weird, her ears prick at the sound of a voice, someone calling out, sounding quite as confused as she feels.

Well, being dead (or not) is certainly no reason not to be friendly!]

Yes! Hello! Over there!

[She clambers to her feet, starting to jog towards the sound of that voice which somehow manages to both echo in the abandoned building around her even as it is muffled by the snow and ice.]

Boy, am I glad to find another person. You wouldn't believe the day I've been having--

[She comes to a stop when she rounds the last pillar of snow and ice, chatter dying on her lips as she comes face to face with--]

M-max?

John Doe | Malevolent | Kraken | Current

[thetatters]

1. startup

[ As Drifters dig their way out of the garage, or crouch to inspect their vehicles, some will be greeted by a sputtering 1930s Ford pickup, dented and rusting. It crawls through the snow and slides to a creaking stop.

But when the door slams open and a man steps out, he looks... remarkably normal. Midthirties, scarred across the cheek and throat, but utterly human— except for the sigil stamped across one eye. It swims and distorts in one's peripherals, or leaves prickling afterimages in its wake.

The long yellow cloak seems an odd choice, but at least the sign's distortion fades once he turns up his hood against the wind. He's bundled tight and stepping carefully around snowdrifts, eyeing the snow as though it might burn him. ]

Hello. [ His voice comes too-deep and resonant, tinnily distorted as though he speaks from the bottom of a well. At least the tone is calm, if cautious. ] Do you need help?

2. fortress (-> fusion)

[ John is on-edge from the moment he steps over the threshold. He glares at the toothy walls with a sort of quiet dread; he does not touch anything.

At least, not until a blanket of fire sweeps down one stone hall. Then the man swears loudly, turns on his heel, and flees like any mundane human. Rounding a corner, he catches himself on the dark stone— and feels the immediate jolt of resonance.

Maybe you witnessed all that. Or maybe you only meet his eyes from the end of the hall, and feel the secondhand thrum of his unease. It doesn't matter: he snarls, voice rumbling low, to you. ]

Fuck this place! Why are we even here?

3. snow rescue

[ The storm calls them towards the summit. Vehicles not prepared for the deep snow, and the idiots who've gone on foot, have begun to struggle. John's truck is inelegant, but it's also near-indestructible: so he's often the one pulling up alongside the stranded, throwing open his passenger door to glower out at them. ]

Get in.

4. the forest

[ He has seen landscapes like this before. That's why John is transparently uneasy, walking close alongside strangers and newcomers, constantly looking over his shoulder. And still trying desperately to keep the snow from touching him. Recoiling from every splash of steam or water when someone brings down a heart.

But the wind here is too strong. There's no keeping the damp from his skin. So when John peers out from under his cowl, it's with a smooth white mask for a face, his eyes alight with gold. ]

4

[propatriamori]

[Edward has chosen his spider form for walking through the woods. The spider legs are better at picking through deep snow, and if/when something charges out and attacks them, the spider stands a better chance of not dying. It's also useful for other purposes, and when he notices someone who appears to be struggling with the damp, he makes his way over.]

Pardon me, but is the water bothering you?

[He speaks very politely, his voice accented with a British lilt. Edward hasn't noticed anything particularly strange about John's face; he assumes the other man is wearing a balaklava.]

I can make something to protect yourself, if you like.

Vox / Hazbin Hotel / Yokai: Kitsune (Current)

[trust_us_with_your]

[I. Wild Freaks Elements (Vs. Malzeno)]

Vox had broken away from one of the parties formed to explore the compound, claiming 'safety in numbers'. Now he mildly observed a clawed hand, watching as deep red blood ran from a fresh cut and hit the floor. With a snort, he made a note not to touch anything else, but could simply wait for his healing factor to kick in and mend the wound.

"...Place like this screams 'has an armory'. Wouldn't mind looking for--"

The sensation rolled up his back. It was a feeling he knew, a telltale magic of a being quickly manifesting nearby. But this creature arrived in a rush of dark smoke and a low, reverberating thrum of malefic power.

The demon immediately threw himself left, watched as the world to his immediate right be filled with the view of a blade-ended, ivory tail that thrust to impale where he just was a moment ago. Unsuccessful, the creature whirled back around to land on four sets of curved claws. Atop an elegant neck bearing frills shaped like a cowl, burning red eyes gleamed.

"You're new..." Despite nearly being skewered, Vox remarked with unmasked glee, red pixels running from his mouth.

"Saves me the trouble of finding you!" Cables burst from his back, grabbing rubble. Vox backed off as he threw slabs of frozen wood and masonry into the bulk of the creature. He'd started laughing.

"This one's MINE!"


[II. The Walls (Vs. Brachydios)]

Vox broke away from another exploring group when his eyes caught... words... written there. "...Hold on."

Look, any info was good info, right? Even if so much of it was 'scrabbly', he'd seen enough chicken scratch in his life to be able to pick out the swirls of an e versus an i, so on and so on.

But after a fashion: "Oh. ...Okay, so these are remnants of the two factions, right? 'Set them free. Set them free. Set them free. Only then can we-'"

Vox paused, gaze flicking up as something in the ice seemed to crackle. Within the walls, there seemed to be a rather wet squirming. The silhouettes began to slowly twitch and bend, treating their suspension as if in some sort of molasses over anything completely solid.

He took several steps back when the bodies began to merge, but in the center of it, something glowed green... then yellow... then red...

Vox made more space. "Okay... okay, yeah, that's going to blow-"

He lost his footing and slid back onto his ass on the storm-slicked floor as the wall erupted, sending ice and a strange slime every which way. He pedaled back on his hands and knees as best as he could as a blue-black creature stepped forward, the warmth of the recent explosion sending thin vapors rising from its body.

It took a moment to bring its fists, covered at the ends in a thick dome of chitin, to its mouth. A heavily dribbling tongue swept across the surfaces, and in that touch's wake, the fists glowed an eerie green.

Oh.

Vox looked at the puddles of green all around him.

OH.

He rolled and used his cables to right himself, scramble on his feet and MOVE as the puddles turned yellow...

Red...


[III. The Armory]

Vox sent his cables against the door hinges, paused, and strained. The aged, frozen metal groaned more and more as time passed... until everything snapped completely loose, sending a pair of sealed doors flying to the left and to the right. With a breath, and a moment to smooth down his winter coat and hat, he stepped into this new room.

His eyes widened.

So everything here sucked so far. ...Except this room!!

"Oho... hahaha, holy shit- FINALLY! Something!" Look at all of this! Scrap! Weapons... even in shitty condition, you could do SOMETHING with them, right? Oh, this was perfect. Finders keepers.

"Watch the door, I'm taking inventory!"

Better put your foot down. This guy just might take all of it.


[IV. Frozen Heart]

Vox was caked in patches of rime, yet somehow kept moving, still dragging himself one step forward at a time. His cables swung from his back, rife with electricity as they swung like whips, sharp cracks ringing in the air as more of the strange 'fruit' is shattered.

But each heart that shatters came with a spray. Thin, glimmering needles of frozen flesh and ice add to so many others that littered his coat, his arms, and some against his monitor. His display, a solid black save for those ever-burning red eyes, wavered as more of them struck. Each point of impact made another tiny spiderweb of cracks.

The storm, however, needed to stop. He had been challenged. He needed to be the greatest monster this shithole has ever seen.

Watch him take them all out. Watch him break everything!!


[V. Wildcard]

[Dealer's choice otherwise! I'm good for everything. Hit me up on discord at 'rainbowdonut', or on my plurk at MechaPony. Both fights and Frozen Heart prompts are open for fusion! Just let me know if you wanted to do that or not. Info for that is here.]

i

[purplexing]

Teeth coming out of the walls is not Donnie's idea of a fun time. He's already feeling a little weird going between spaces that are either too hot or too cold, half-convinced he's going to or is already getting sick. Wouldn't that just beat all!

He perks at the mention of an armory, but more so is just eager to find someone nearby again. The winged turtle stops short as he sees something suddenly appear within the hall between them, vision filled with red as the dragonlike creature fixates its attention on Vox.

"Ugh, what is it with this place and dragons?" he groans, yelping abruptly as he throws himself to the floor to duck its tail.

Well at least someone seems to be enjoying himself? Vox buddy, you all right over there?

arcade gannon | fallout: new vegas | naga | current character

[taediosum]

i. fire condition

[ There's lava coming up through the floors and a giant snake on the ceiling. Well, normal sized by monster standards. But Arcade is still pretty difficult to miss, taking up space on the dining hall ceiling, tail loosely coiled around him as he basks in the rising residual heat from the lava flowing through cracked foundation below him. It's been a cold... while, now, though. And he doesn't fare well in the cold, anymore.

So he's got a book in two of his hands and the other keeping his bag tucked against his side, to keep gravity from dragging it right off over his head. And it's lucky there's a fourth arm free, because he nearly loses his glasses when he looks up (down) with a start to see someone else looking like they might be trying to find a way to circumnavigate those lava-filled faults. ]

Do you need a hand?

[ He may be a desert creature enjoying the heat, but he's not just going to sit back and watch. Unless that's the diplomatic thing to do, here, anyway. ]

ii. fuel pumps

[ Getting as far away from these frigid, horrible mountains as fast as humanly possible is the only thing he really wants, right now, so for once, Arcade is actually amenable to the Convoy's mysterious requests. Refueling sounds simple enough, anyway, doesn't it?

Of course, he's more use scouring through that research than trying to turn on some ancient, defunct machine. He shuffles rapidly through ancient, yellowed sheets of brittle paper (something he is especially well-equipped for, having had a lifetime of experience picking through ruins like these), skimming most of the mechanical details and perusing the pertinent segments (side effects, past failures, casualties) with intention.

Only the grating, reluctant clunk of rusting machinery turning over drags him back out of it, as his eyes catch on another worrying mention of mutation and exposure— ]

Hey, be careful—

[ But it's too late, by the time he speaks up. Those metal sounds are accompanied by the spatter of mercury-heavy, quicksilver liquid spraying across the floor. As soon as they're on, the pumps have sprung a leak - disuse and time-weathering at work. Or maybe it's several. They'll both be lucky to get away unscathed. ]

iii. storm call

[ Driving in the storm is definitely inadvisable. Flying in it? Probably suicidal. (Especially with his so far limited practice all having been in vastly milder weather.) But getting stuck in the snow seems just as likely a death sentence, out here, so Arcade is splitting the difference.

The truck's heavy enough that the storm winds are no more inconvenient than they would be, on the ground, and the sound of the equally hefty rotors keeping it airborne cut through them, a deeper, constant thunder, as he sweeps cautiously over the unbroken, snowy field. Mostly unbroken. There are shapes down there, lumbering through the blinding white, and only one of them resonates as a fellow drifter. The rest are monsters, circling in - at least until he angles downward, truck-vertibird a more intimidating presence that sends the monsters scattering on his approach. But only for a moment.

His voice is blotted out thoroughly by the sound of the truck and the storm, more thunder crashing overhead, but there's nothing ambiguous about the frantic motion he makes, even through a screen of falling, swirling snow. Hurry up and get in. ]

iv. wildcard

[ arcade can also be found in the convoy's med bay or tending to the plants in his truck, as well as in the fortress poking around the armory and library. he won't be outside much since the cold is very very bad for him rip.

feel free to hit me with a different prompt or pm here/gravejuice to plot something else! ]

storm call

[androidvictoriam]

[ Danse has something of a complicated relationship with the sound of approaching vertibirds. In his earliest experience with them, they'd been dangerous enemy technology, and then when the Brotherhood had commandeered them, the noise of the propellers had become a source of comfort and relief, safety and rescue and alliance.

Of course, to the foes of the Brotherhood, they'd remained as terrifying and deadly as ever, and they'd been particularly persistent in reminding Danse of that firsthand once he'd become one of those. However untouched his memories of Revan might be, coming back to him in most of the ways that matter when it comes to recalling who people are and how things work and why he has a pair of embarrassing furry ears stuck to the sides of his head, his reflexes and instincts are still halfway stuck in their stasis from home, and when he hears Arcade's truck coming, instinct takes over. He ducks, dives for the nearest snowdrift when it's the only thing that could possibly provide cover for his neon-orange uniform in this endless whiteout--

--and remembers, as the cold shocks him back to his higher senses, that there is only one person with a vertibird here, and that person is Definitely Not Brotherhood. (Or Enclave.) Granted, what Arcade might have to say about someone venturing out into a storm like this probably constitutes its own hazard, but Danse will still gladly take it over...well, any of the alternatives. He climbs out of the snowbank and gets in without further ado, dusting snow off himself and generally starting to melt all over the seat. ]

Thanks. I, uh, wasn't expecting you.

Godzilla | Godzilla: the Series | Swarm: Thri-kreen | New character and player

[chin_godzilla]

1. Summoning Circle

(Well. There was a lot for the former kaiju to take in, between being somewhere new entirely and being considerably smaller than normal. Sure, an eight foot lizard was still huge, but this was a different scale of huge from what he's used to. Oh well; there were more important things for Godzilla to worry about. For example, being stuck in a garage with a lot of other people who were varying degrees of calm. Outside didn't look a lot better, but few people enjoyed being trapped, so there was an idea to focus on.

Some might understandably freak out from waking up trapped in a building with a dinosaur. Godzilla was smart enough to keep away if they did, displaying no intention to harm. Whether or not others took to him well, he nodded toward the great mounds of snow blocking the way. He approached them claws first and was very quickly digging a tunnel through it. His current size meant most other people could fit in it with ease. The dinosaur poked his head out a few seconds later, looking at others expectantly.)

2. Start up

(Some time after making it outside, Godzilla found himself walking past various cars of various shapes and sizes. They were nothing new to him, but one in particular made him stop in his tracks. A convertible, shaped like a boat Godzilla seemed to recognize. He looked around expectantly, giving the air a few sniffs and visibly saddened when there's no trace of the ones he hoped to see. Still, the boat (or something close enough to it) was here, and that was enough for the big guy to work with. It...could look better, to say the least. Perhaps a small mercy was in play as the car itself didn't need much in the way of repairs; a little help thawing out and it'd be good to go.

But there was one problem: Godzilla never drove a car before and didn't know how to. It had him tilting his head and looking around when climbing in, not unlike a lion settling into a cardboard box. The interior seemed accessible enough for a non-humanoid like him, providing just enough space with some kind of display in place of a steering wheel. It was off, but the key was in the ignition. Anything more than that might need some outside assistance.)

3.Wild Elements: Barioth/optional Monster Fuse

(The fortress was...strange, to say the least. For Godzilla, the strange started with the new perspective in which to observe a building like this. While he knew little about it, he knew others would explore and potentially encounter danger. Godzilla made his presence known in an attempt to be less intimidating than the other monsters lurking about, but whether it was the fortress at play or simply a keen insight check, one could tell that the big lizard wanted to protect those part of the convoy. He even ducked his head down to invite headpats!

Something was lurking nearby, and it seemed fast. Godzilla took a defensive stance in front of his companion, ready to fight and ready to protect whoever was with him. For once, one seemed willing to play along like a scaly, fire breathing guard dog. And who better to help take down a monster than another monster?)

4. Wildcard

(Wanna do something different? I'll probably be down for it! Feel free to throw a DM over at this journal, my discord at 'rikimaruhitori' or my plurk at rikimaruhitori)

I am summoned by both your excellent taste in characters and a new swarm buddy; 2

[propatriamori]

[Edward already has a motorcycle, but he's always on the prowl for new parts or fuel for it. He may also be looking for a hitch that would fit Andrew's car, if she can be persuaded to haul the trailer/coop sometimes. He's in his spider form today, the better for crawling over and inspecting the snow-covered vehicles.]

[Because of the snow, he doesn't notice Godzilla until he walks around a wrecked hulk of a semi and the creature is just there. The sight nearly gives Edward a heart attack; he'd had a run-in with a Deathclaw just a few weeks prior, and at the first impression, Godzilla is similar enough to cause quite a fright.]

[Without meaning to, Edward blasts one word through the swarm hive mind: SHIT. Then he scrambles up onto the top of the semi and crouches low, hoping Godzilla didn't notice him.]

[OOC: as another member of the swarm, Edward can use his hive mind to communicate. He did it accidentally here, so it's up to you if Godzilla heard it or not. And he'll feel bad about thinking Godzilla was a Deathclaw once that's cleared up.]

Raphael Hamato | TMNT 2012 | Infernal: Demon | Current Player/Character

[saisdoesmatter]

Normally the cold would bother him a lot more than it has been... but Raphael's been feeling rather hot blooded as of late. He'd be more concerned about the whole thing if it wasn't helpful as they deal with the snow and ice, keeping him active despite the vague urge to curl up somewhere cozy and sleep.

Though he's found a jacket to wear during the adventure into colder temps - a sharp eyed Drifter might notice the way that his veins almost glow along his wrists...that's new! At least newer than the black sclera and fever bright green eyes he's been touting for awhile now.

[01 - Wild Elements (vs Gyuki)]

It was one thing to find shelter when they ran into storms.

It was another to find YET ANOTHER THING that wanted them dead.

He's not against fighting, his temper flaring like the heated blood in his veins as of late, gritting his teeth as there's this...weird cow, spider...insect??? thing...that seems to be really thick skinned by the looks of its armor plating.

"WHY IS IT ALWAYS BUGS WITH THIS PLACE?!" he hollers to whatever Drifter is nearby as he darts to get space between himself and the Gyuki they've happened upon. Just because one of his good friends happens to be half bug means nothing!!! Edward's at least a nice bug-person who isn't trying to EAT HIM. "You got any ideas? I haven't fought one of these things before."

[02 - Fuel Tanks]

*he whistles at the sight of the glowing tanks, full of distilled moon-juice*

Seems almost super potent with how much light that's producing... *he says, heading toward one of the big tanks to look it over* Could probably get it back to the convoy, but I don't know if we have a safe enough car for it to be in. Maybe we should find smaller containers? What if it's explosive?

*why yes, he's used to giant glowy tanks of things to just randomly explode, what do you mean?*

[03 - Storm Call]

If there was one thing about his bike that he liked - it was the fact that it was strong enough to plow through stuff when the chips were down. Snow wasn't usually a problem, but with how hard the storm was coming down, he's taken to taking his bike out to look for other Drifters who haven't made it to the fortress, or were out and about and got stuck in a literal snow drift. The cold is biting and the sort to seep into your bones, so no one should be out in it long if he has anything to say about it.

He leans out when he thinks he recognizes someone stranded. "Oi! Need help getting out? This baby's good for towin' despite the fact that it's a bike!"

[04 - Wildcard]

[I'm usually down for anything - I didn't hit up the fusion plotting thing because Raph's demon attributes so far are mostly the subtle ones, but if you want to do anything with that or have an idea for something else - throw it at me and I'll be down!]

[OOC: I tag match so feel free to answer any prompt with your preferred style. I'm not picky. :)]

01 vs Gyuki

[bufudine]

There's a small, silver furred fox hanging about, the closest thing to a clue that this isn't an ordinary fox being his six tails and marking on his face fur that looks similar to a sigil. Thanks to the storm, Serph's been forced into this shape and the inconvenience is mildly galling.

"This looks like a demon from my world." Technically everything (everyone) from Serph's original world was a demon, so that definition isn't a particularly useful one. "If you don't have earth magic, focus on disabling its legs on one side."

Breaking, cutting tendons (or whatever passes for them), whatever works. Although the Gyuki having more legs mean losing use of one isn't a big deal, they're the most fragile part of of the monster. Like a spider, it will be hard for the creature to maintain speed once they start crippling its balance.

Unfortunately, Serph can see that this isn't a monster he can help bring down when all he has are the teeth and claws of a small animal. So it may come as a surprise when the fox's shape turns dark and indistinct before changing into a humanoid monster with bone white carapace that catches the Gyuki's sudden mad charge with his hands, clawed feet gouging the ground as he's pushed back. The Gyuki can't untangle itself so easily from Serph, giving Raph a good opening while its attention is occupied.

Chemach | Cult of the Lamb | Celestial-Unicorn | New Player, New Character

[godlyparts]

I. Summoning Circle

[Where she is needed, Chemach goes. Where a wanderer of the Lands of the Old Faith are in need of her trinkets, she appears, much like an answer to an unwanted prayer. Once they take the relic they need, she goes again. This time is much different.

The great feathery creature drags her wings across not the comforting stone of her temple, but frigid ice and a summoning circle.]

Who dares call Chemach?

[She claws at the icy ground, clawing as she drags herself to promise of the fire. Her temple, her trinkets, even her beloved devotees, all gone!!! She had only herself.]

Thief...thieves…

[She might get that hunching over as a human-sized legless bird with blood-red eyes muttering to herself might create certain impressions—but she’s not worried about that now.]

II. Start up

[Initial betrayal of losing all her little godly relics aside, this didn’t turn out the absolute worst for Chemach. Indeed, this little chilly realm had its own wealth of trinkets for a creature like her to eek out. Her eyes, already wide-open, threatened to spin at the thrill of her newest find. All these chariots, burnished from steel alien even to her!

The duck was about to start claiming all to herself when one started to call out to her in particular. Dragging herself through snow one hand uncovered a key. How odd that this key felt as though it guided her as she came across a doorless three-wheeled chariot. Something about it just seemed right for her...Perhaps it was just intuition, or just luck, but the way she felt drawn to it reminded her of the first time she plucked a relic from a dead god…

Chemach assumed the backseat as one a throne. Yes. This chariot was made for her, a chariot of gods themselves! Of course there was the matter of not knowing how to drive at all, but it mattered little to a duck exulting in her find.]

This key...yes yess...Chemach was bestowed the keeper of this chariot...Chemach alone! But for what purpose hmmm?

III. If These Walls Could Talk

[Ruins were not a new thing to her. Anywhere you went it seemed the world had parts that went on abandoned, forgotten...much like this wall, meshed with the bodies of these strange creatures. A gruesome sight, one that Chemach regards with coos of fascination as if strolling through an art gallery.]

Sad little beasts…would be much happier under Chemach’s care yes yes…what a waste of flesh...

[She reaches out to tap at the frozen indentations, forlorn that such oddities could not become part of her own collection.]

IV. Wildcard

((For those who want something miscellaneous-flavored or want to plot a monster fusion, hit me up on dententa))

iii

[purplexing]

[At first Donnie wasn't sure whether this being was some random husk-born creature roaming about. He's really not one to talk, he supposes, given he's not human to begin with, and what's more, has since sported a pair of large bird wings and the raptor-like legs and feet to go with it. Said wings he keeps loosely over his shoulders against the lingering chill of the keep, and perhaps the general creepiness.]

Don't know how much flesh is actually left there...

[He's unsure if touching the walls are a good idea, but he's leery of touching anything remotely creepy around here.]

Deacon | Fallout 4 | Fae | Returning Character

[facethefacts]

01.

Seated beside the fire, a man with a perfectly styled pompadour stares into the flames, the light of them reflecting in his sunglasses.

"I've been expecting you," he announces monotonely, as someone new is summoned to the garage. "Do you have a Geiger counter?"

Not the weirdest question someone from his world might ask, yet Deacon is well aware that he isn't in the Wasteland anymore.

03.

Deacon stands in front of a large, extremely conspicuous vehicle with his arms crossed at his chest. He doesn't necessarily look upset, but he also has a great poker face.

"You again," he mutters with a sigh. He'll just have to hope that his stuff is still inside. He nearly steps inside, but he feels eyes on him and turns to find a bystander looking his way.

"Do you mind?" he asks, "We're trying to have a reunion."

06/07.

Deacon has only ever seen dinosaurs in textbooks. The closest thing he's encountered to one has razor-sharp claws and was bred to be some kind of military weapon, but that experience isn't exactly translating. Probably because he's not really feeling entirely himself right now.

"You know, I've always kind of considered myself more of a lone wolf," he mutters in a moment of control, "This team-building stuff is getting a bit out of hand."

Not that this is important right now. He's very interested in putting more distance between them and the dinosaur as quickly as possible.

0X.

[ WILDCARD, BABY! Feel free to message me on discord at trashwitch666 or PP dukevendetta to plot new ideas... or just go for it! I'm easy to please. ]

02

[vaultless]

Lucy's hands immediately shoot up in front of her chest, in that universal sign of surrender. It looks like she has found some extra clothes to wear over her normal clothes, but that unmistakable vault jump suit is still visible enough underneath. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt."

Truth to be told, Lucy hadn't even seen there was someone standing there. She had spotted Deacon's vehicle from a distance, and she just had to come and investigate. Because, what the heck.

"I'll go. I just--" She takes a step back, her eyes still flicking between Deacon and the giant sausage. It's okay. She'll just go. Sometimes mysteries will have to stay mysteries. That's fine. It's fine. It's--

Oh lord, she can't take it. "Why is your vehicle shaped like a giant sausage?"

Faith Lehane | Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel | Undead - Dullahan (Current)

[thegoodslayer]

I. Nor break it with the wheel of his cart (CW: Graphic description of Faith's zombie-ass injuries)

[New arrivals, and anybody else in the garage, might find that there's one car in even worse shape than the others, a A black 1995 Jeep Cherokee XJ. Or, at least, it was. The poor thing seems to have been put through hell, covered in bangs, scrapes, dents, fractures... it's missing a door panel and a window, the windows that do remain are cracked, the front bumper was almost completely torn off, one side mirror is bashed out, and whoo nelly, the interior has fared no better- the hood, not so much propped as pried open, reveals that it's taken so much abuse that it certainly won't run without major work.

Work that is, at present, being attempted by a strangely corpse-like young woman, who looks like she might have been a lot better looking when she was alive. Her skin is pale and ashy, her eyes are hollow and sunken, her lips are pallid and tinged with blue, and while she keeps a scarf cinched tight around her neck, a hideous, oddly-fresh neck wound is occasionally visible underneath it.

She seems unconcerned about this, and when she sees you- whether you're a familiar face or a stranger- she gets a hopeful look in her eye.]

Please tell me you know somethin' about cars, 'cuz I'm about to lose it, yo!

II. And will not suffer the destroyer to come in

[When she's not trying (and mostly failing) to fix the Jeep, Faith can be found exploring the fortress, looking in vain for supplies. She may as well be useful as long as she's failing at the mechanic gig, after all.

Unfortunately, she's setting herself up for a bad time, and not just because the supplies are almost nonexistant. The first problem is the unnatural cold seeping through the walls. She's not particularly bothered by cold now that she's all cadaveriffic, but that unfortunately means she has trouble avoiding the problem until it's too late- typically because she's either become so stiff that she struggles to move, or because she's touched an ice patch and it's started to trap her limbs. Frequently both. Fortunately, she hasn't started turning animalistic... yet...

That's not the only problem, of course. A lot of the supplies she's looking for are left over from the Steel Wardens, and at first she thinks nothing of it... until she realizes that something about them is freaking her out. It's not until she winds up stuck in the armory that she realizes the problem- the symbols seem to be repelling her, and she can't pass too close to them. Including the one over the door, which she didn't see on the way in.

A little help?]

III. He scattereth the hoarfrost like ashes

[As always, when there's action, Faith can be found there... which means that once they've climbed the mountains and encountered that unnatural skull, she's all in on trying to bring it down. She'll be all-in on smashing the hearts, and none too carefully at that. Unfortunately, this means she's very likely to catch heart shards. This means as the encounter goes on, she's going to get more and more wild... and as an undead in the snow, this will be accompanied by her becoming increasingly wolfish. Hopefully she doesn't forget who her allies are.]

IV. Wildcard!

(Don't see anything you like? Have something specific in mind? Feel free to hit me up in DMs or on plurk at yonfellow)

II

[solitarysoul]

[Levi comes across Faith as she's been partially immobilized by ice and cold. He frowns.]

Need a little help? Um. How are you with fire?

Angel | Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel | New Character/Player

[beatsthebadguys]

Summoning Circle

[In weather like this, you notice immediately that this is neither Hell nor Los Angeles. Unless Hell finally decided to freeze over; is this how the Shanshu Prophecy is fulfilled?

Whatever it is, Angel at least doesn't have to worry about the sun. Small favors. The cold still slows him down, however, so he's quick to grab a shovel to start clearing the way toward that more civil-looking fortress in the distance-

Wait, why is he so slow? Is the snow that full of ice? Or has he once more lost his vampire strength?

Was he turned human again?

Well, no time to think about that right now; he's retreating to that fire inside for a break and is already trying to stoke it between shivers. He's too caught up in his thoughts to notice anyone else right away.]

Start Up

[It's about halfway through shoveling that he hears the jingling of a key in his jacket pocket. Funny, he doesn't remember having that on hand. But as he spots the cars littered around the garage, buried in the snow, he searches for a familiar coupe-shaped mound- yes. That is his target.

By the time he gets there and is chipping away at the ice, he's already wondering when exactly they got here for this much snow to build up. That is, until he spots a not-so-familiar red stripe on the hood and his heart drops a little. Well, it may not be his, but someone will need this car, so he might as well finish what he started regardless. Maybe he'll find the owner while he's cleaning it up.

(Spoilers: He won't, this is his car.)]

Armory

[The weather outside is frightful, but finding his key fit into that ignition after all was quite delightful, he will admit. So Angel's in a surprisingly upbeat mood by the time he reaches the fortress. Sure, he may be lost in the middle of some new terrible landscape, but driving and defending himself? That he knows, so he might as well enjoy himself in the process.

Which is why he's quick to locate the armory once he's inside - notably, for anyone watching, prioritizing the older weapons as he gathers a few to presumably stock up his car. If he senses someone else nearby, he'll toss an axe to them.]

Here - that'll serve better than any of those shiny scraps.

[He hasn't regarded, or at least acknowledged, any of the growing sets of teeth on the surrounding walls. Either he's used to such nonsense, or they're threatening to catch his skin by surprise. Perhaps both...?]

Wild Elements Card
((OOC: Have more clever ideas of how to meet this de-buffed vampire? Drop your own prompt in a comment, run something by me via PMs, or hit me up on Plurk at LilCosgrove!))

Armory

[undyingcrow]

[Akechi catches the axe with a snort of amusement, his smirk intensified by the shape of his snout.

It's not the weapon of choice for him, but it certainly is useful.]

I admit, I'm more partial to sabers and guns, but I do know someone who's quite the beast with an axe.

Vash the Stampede | Trigun | Fae/Pooka | New Character, New Player

[mostestwanted]

A: SUMMONING CIRCLE: BORN UNTO TROUBLE

[It’s funny.]

[The desert is a place where temperatures can reach sweltering heights where you learn to crave the taste of saliva in your own mouth because it means that you haven’t sweat out everything.]

[It’s a place of cold colds, the kind where if you try to fall asleep in the dunes, you might end up freezing numb as whatever else is in the desert tries to reclaim your water.]

[But one thing that the desert does not have is snow. Way too little water in the atmosphere of No Man’s Land to even worry too much about it.]

[After trying to shovel his way out of being snowed into a garage, Vash is now sure that he misses the endless desert.]

“Jeez. A guy tries to take a nap, gets stuck in a dark hole, and ends up stuck in a creepy garage.” [He said, taking off his boots and laying his now snow-drenched socks by the fire. His face sinking in resignation.] “Starting to think that whatever put me here doesn’t like me or something.”


B: START UP: ENGINE CHOKE

[The piece of scrap that sat in the garage may have once, charitably, been called a motorcycle.]

[It’s caked in rust. It’s seat, worn down to the point where the leather frayed at the edges, away from the steel plate that it’s held down to. The tires are flat, the headlights are broken, and who knows what else. But the shape was there, an old-style motorcycle with rounded facets and a beefed-up suspension system. A long seat. A pair of sidebags.]

[Vash looks out into the winter wastes. Could he just run out of here? Maybe for a while. But he has the stuff here to maybe put this thing back in a shape.]

[And then he sits there, with a look of dawning horror.]

“I don’t know how to fix this.” [His voice trailing to a higher pitch as he realizes the enormity of his incompetence.]

[He looks at the other figure in the room with puppy-dog eyes, an uneasy laugh, and the tell-tale crestfallen guilt-trip sunken shoulders and finger tip-taps of someone trying to beg for help without having to say words.]


C: FUEL PUMPS: BLOOD OF THE EARTH

[Vash walked down the cobblestone hallways, hands trailing across the pipes absent-mindedly. The aesthetic was different; the language was the same. This was some sort of fuel pump room.]

[His normal, lighthearted, easy grin began to sink as his expression grew distant. It was obvious, this was starting to get to him for some reason. Bad memories?]

[Maybe you should ask. Or, at the very least, say something to snap him out of it?]


D: IF THESE WALLS COULD TALK: WORDS WE COULDN’T SAY

[In his defense, Vash didn’t know.]

[His sense of dawning horror, seeing what was left of people strewn writhing into the wall, more shapes of shadow than recognizable feature yet indistinguishable, something about it hit his fight or flight response.]

[Unfortunately, his fight or flight response is broken, it’s more of a Thanatos instinct to throw himself into harm’s way if someone looks like they’re in trouble.]

“I-I’m sorry, Buddy Maddox, I didn’t-“

[And then, the wall lit. The face of a dead man scrambled and merged into something draconic. Something that spawned and hit the ground with explosive force.]

[Someone with that gentle face? He might need some help.]


E: WILD CARD

Hit me up! I’m on Discord, you can shoot me a PM here, or send me a friend request at #NomenNescio!

D

[trust_us_with_your]

HAHAHAHAH...! The walls are pretty aggressive today, huh?

[He'll never have enough. Not today. His stomach was so full from the other kills he's made, but if he wants to achieve his goal, he couldn't let up now. So with another hapless dope about to be chowed on by whatever hatched from the husks today, a strange blend of man and machine pulled up.

His hands were slightly aloft at his sides, gleaming and metallic claws wiggling as if prepared for a quick draw. But he had no weapon on him. He was already spattered with gore, but was it his own, or something else's...?]

It'll eat you if you don't move your ass! So move it!!

Vincent Valentine | Final Fantasy VII OG | Vampire (Current Character)

[coffinturk]

[ Appearance

Beginning of the Month: No true visible change, though the abilities of mist form, blood tracking and the resilience in the freezing cold are quick.


Mid-Month: Long claws have grown from his fingers, even under the bronze gauntlet. Vincent's gloves have been modified; blue veins are starting to creep up his face; and probably over other parts of his body but he's well wrapped. If he wasn't already pale before, he'd be extremely pale now.


Late Month: Bat wings grow from his back in a way that seems to be melding with his cloak or be his cloak; the blue glow seems to have crept partially into his already crimson eyes, leaving a frigid purple hint where the glows clash for dominance. ]

---

I. Gun Shop [Event Adjacent]

The convoy's second trailer has a gun shop... of sorts. On many days of this month, as the storms lock the Convoy inside the fortress, things run as usual.

The posted sign is faithful enough.

The hours listed are described as, 'From thirty minutes after the Convoy's stop for evening camp until two hours have passed barring emergencies.' This neatly provides an hour or so of night time hours for sun-hating Drifters to pay a visit. There are also some neatly written rules.


-Don't bother me during non-business hours unless it's an emergency.
    Ammo and repairs are emergencies.
    Securing salvaged firearms and ammo are emergencies.
    Wanting a gun or lessons are not.

-No one is entitled to have a firearm.
-Ammo is limited. Don't waste it.
-You're required to prove proficiency and responsibility.
-Clean and maintain your own weapon.
-You may ask to be taught.
-Privilege may be revoked.

Vincent himself is a tall, pale man, raven hair and wrapped in a red cloak with a high circular collar that covers much of his features. Piercing red eyes regard his surroundings or focus on the task of gun maintenance. As the month wears on, traits of the undead will further manifest, but when the shop is open, the man seems his usual, stoic self. More or less.

There is a chicken that openly nests on top of a stack of ammo crates. Well, it might be considered a chicken, but is in fact a cucco and not to be trifled with. Is it a guard for the shop? A pet? The shopkeeper himself shows no surprise that it's there and bowls of food and water further suggest a form of permanent residency.


II. Fuel Pumps and Refinery

Copies of the information found in an earlier library on the secrets and science behind the fuel and Convoy technology were entered into the database. But transcribed notes will be found with a collection of moon shards collected in the later farmlands. Vincent is not always spotted as the culprit, yet it's possible because he lingers.

Willing to conduct impossible leaps into heights that might hide hidden valves or be roped into grunt work. Maybe just spied keeping a watch out for roaming monsters or dangerous ice and fire events.

Yet... it's a bit unnerving. Whether other reasons or prolonged exposure to the environment where the fuel has been stored, transformations have advanced. Bat-like wings shift aside the crimson cloak.... or seem to merge with it. Could be hard to tell in the shadows. Blue veins creep across what is seen of his face; a light blue glow which seeps into the light of crimson to his eyes, clashing in frigid hints of purple as if warring for dominance. His hands, both right and gauntlet-covered left have grown out into deadly claws; it may be alarming that he's able to remain dexterous despite this recent change.

Given the danger of what happens when one comes into direct contact with the fuel, whether he is looking for threats or looking for a meal might not be readily apparent at first.

On the other hand, when one can see him, it's probably fine? It's not like there's a pack of Vincents... outside of his own mind.


III. Prowling the Corridors

The sound of armored boots sometimes echo in the fortress corridors. Unhurried, assured; patrolling is nothing new. Exploring. Investigating.

Vincent is certainly not keeping track of everyone, making sure they are okay. Or in some cases, not causing trouble. Blood tracking has been a.... useful ability. When he finds a door that has been completely iced over, but his senses tell him there's a source of blood on the other side still struggling for life, he pauses.

Drawing his gun in one hand, the left is raised and brought down. Claws; both metal and now-natural gouge through the thick ice. And even if that isn't quite enough to allow him to open the door, it causes cracks; and through those he can slip. His form disperses into a mist of crimson and gray, slipping through and reforming on the other side.

...The gun, of course, is in case the blood source on the other side is no Drifter, but a potential meal monster.


IV. Frozen Heart

The freezing winds do nothing to the undead man. Drawn to the summit as so many are, the source of the storm becomes clear.

...And he has no need to get close to the threat that shattering those hearts will cause. But this does not mean he is completely out of danger.

His method is the use of a scoped rifle from a barrier of rock; despite the winds, his accuracy is frighteningly uncanny and a testament to his skill. But there are times when even these skills are enough to reach the hanging 'fruit'; to this, Vincent raises his hands, collecting energy with familiar ease and channels it into a materia that seemed recently restored; lightning crackles through the air with no concern for matters like range and elevation or windspeed.

The lightning isn't the same as fire; but those who might be wielding it to burn the hearts generate smoke; and it's only a matter of time that the air is filled with it. Distance simply makes the building hunger more insidious. Ah, he knows it well, so familiar with the pangs of blood thirst. It usually doesn't creep so quickly after the last 'meal' and Vincent is no fool.

He endures, clenches his jaw and focuses. But blood is in the air, scented, tracked with his eyes and increasingly distracting. And there are few monsters to sate him here. Well... monsters who aren't Drifters.


V. Summit

A time for rest and reflection. The storm is fading, almost a memory. Transformations may be dispersing for many; but for Vincent the wings remain, the claws. A faint trace of blue veins.

Perhaps it's only fitting; so many of his changes had been easy to hide, passive traits. His eyes are closed. Though the man had perched upon an outcropping to regard the city in the distance, it seems he's dozed off. Perhaps because the sun, though touching only his face and wings, makes him lethargic.

He'll probably wake on his own and certainly if there is a threat. Moving too close proves this; Vincent opens one crimson eye- the blue glow having receded a little and the cold purple fading- to judge the intentions of the one approaching.


VI. Wildcard

[ Fusions, closed prompts, all are welcome! HMU with ideas. Fusion Meme here. Plurk friending welcome! maruah or PM coffinturk ]

corridors. c.c

[iron_stomach]

Heat doesn't like the cold.

He hates the cold, in fact, so much so that he has spent as much time as he could arrange for not out and about, and with the Fortress came some shelter from the brutal cold. Especially with the lava that turns up now and again. Safest of course is in his RV with the others, numbers make up for a lack of a good heater pretty well, but hunting is inevitably required.

He's stuck to the hotter areas as a matter of course for a while, but as time passes and hunger means straying further into cold areas, he's ... gotten himself into a bit of trouble. There's something interesting on the other side of the ice, something he's sure is edible, but TOUCHING that ice ...seems to have been a bad idea, since his arm is now encased in ice up to mid-bicep and making inroads on his hooves as well. Heat's very strong, but he's only cracked it here and there or chipped it a bit without making any real inroads, and the brief flare of scorching flame only serves to melt some .. which then re-freezes.

By the pinned-back horselike ears and lashing tail, this is more annoying than something he feels unnerved or frightened by; he doesn't share Agni's crippling weakness to cold but he's lost feeling in that hand and isn't too thrilled about that. "Goddamn piece of sh--"

Hey footsteps! "Hey you!"

Alastor ⛧ Hazbin Hotel ⛧ Kitsune ⛧ Current

[sugaronthecream]

[ ⛧ Returning From Hell ⛧ ]

Blinding, painful light - brighter than the sun. At least, it feels like it ought to have been - the damn thing was using the power stolen from an angel, a fallen light of heaven itself pointed dead at him to fire where it had already missed by a mere hair before.

Blood pooled under him, blinding pain, and only the shouting of voices confronting Vox and distracting him gave Alastor the chance to start pulling himself along the ground like the wounded animal he’d become. Hurry, hurry, gather your magic to fade into the shadows of the rubble… Alastor pulled himself along with an arm, dragging over broken concrete. Lift, pull. Lift, pull. Lift–

His arm fell into snow.

All at once, in a massive rush - Alastor could feel and smell the difference in the air almost instantaneously. And as his eyes finally adjusted, clearing of the burned afterimage of the weapon that Vox had wielded - he saw the last distorted light and wisps of a familiar unearthly (and un-hell-like) magic fading from around him as he was abandoned in the snow.

Snow. This place… how could he have forgotten the wretched cold of this place…?? All at once it rushed back to him, and he looked down - his body had changed all over again, healed and patched, tiny green flames dancing along his skin where it was numbing from the cold, red fur itching under bloody-wet clothes that were starting to frost in the temperature. Shakily, Alastor found his footing and stood shivering in the harsh winds, a rattling laughter coming from him as he caught up with where he was all over again.

Eventually, Alastor hobbled his way back to the convoy - back to his lagging radio truck, still busted and causing problems. He seems... lighter, somewhat, even if his clothes appear torn at the arm and through the middle. Even though his clothes are bloodied and freezing in the harsh snow. He's got his nine tails back, and all... maybe he has an idea of what might be going on with Vox. Or maybe he just seems like an oh so trustworthy and helpful fellow.

[ ⛧ Coveting ⛧ ]

The fortress, the garage, the harsh weather... while Alastor himself may not be some mechanical inventive 'genius', he has every intention to gather things he finds useful. And with such a knack for that which catches his eye... things he'll never use.

But maybe you want to.

At which point he'll chuckle from where he's cooking in the hot kitchen, flashing an unsettlingly toothy grin. "Interested in a trade, pal?"

[ ⛧ Fraught Fusion ⛧ ]

No point in shying away from fights - Alastor needs to make sure that he's gathering power in preparation for oh so many things. It's not uncommon to find him in the midst of fighting and killing monsters - though with things getting more menacing, it may serve well to give him a hand.

[Wildcard!]
((OOC: Have any other ideas to bump into Alastor? Uncertain about whether or not you want to test drive against him? Want to hash out fusion transformation details? HMU on Plurk! lovelycoris))

Fraught Fusion

[swingandwhistle]

[ Alastor isn't the only one that doesn't shy away from fights. Negan? He doesn't shy away from them either. Was it for power? Not particularly. However, he goes about fighting and killing monsters with his electrified barb-wired bat. If he's not using the bat then he's using his claws. Something he's gotten used to by now, since being around the convoy.

He isn't much of a talker, but that doesn't mean he won't give a hand where it's needed. ]

the ghoul | fallout | wraith (new player)

[thegoldenghoul]

((ooc: i am up to date on canon however i will be mindful of spoilers. if you want to get into spoilers just let me know and chuck a warning up.))

03: START UP
[Sickly as he may look, the Ghoul is a skilled survivalist. Only problem is, he's skilled at surviving in a desert wasteland. Not a frozen one. Now he's dealt with the cold before, but in entirely different circumstances. In a body with some fat and muscle on it.

Regardless, he's not sure what's to come from tunnelling out, but he knows he'd rather die out in the open than trapped like a rat. When it becomes clear that the tunnel has reached beyond his confines, he seems pleased.

What does not please him is the range of vehicles available to him, because it's just the one and it's fucking stupid. He notes the key in the ignition already, as if serendipitous. Well. He's never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He's also never been one to avoid stealing something that ought to be stolen, if they're gonna leave the keys and all.

He throws a leg over it, taking a moment to make sure it's all in fine order.]

Bet you'll be glad to know you ain't the ugliest thing on two wheels no more. [He murmurs to it and revs it, surprised by how well it springs to life in this weather.]

Well, sounds like you've got some zip in you.

[And now he's got a dog (important) and a girl (necessary) to find.]

04: WILD ELEMENTS
[His travels bring him to the fortress, where he supposes he'll likely find the people he's looking for. The traps don't surprise him, he's never been any place worth being that wasn't rigged for protection.

It seems worth the effort, because the castle is as good as a castle to him. There's warmth and food. He's rooting through the preserves, eating with his fingers out of cans. He's also looking for drugs, any, muttering to himself as he does.

He happens upon the library and switches between book and screen, absorbing the information curiously. When he hears a ruckus, he emerges with an open book in one hand and his pistol in the other. Seems like neither he nor the other Drifter in the hall are alone, they've got company in each other and the big, fucking monster that he very promptly pumps lead into.

As he assesses whether it's dead or not, he circles it carefully.]

Ain't you ever heard of a library, son? There's a sacred law. You come into a place of knowledge, you're s'posed to sit down and shut the fuck up.

[It looks dead, so he's not wasting anymore bullets, but he's still pointing his gun at it.]

06: IF THESE WALLS COULD TALK
[The Ghoul does not want to be outside of the fortress if he can help it, but he also can't abide by the fact that he's been distracted from his mission by all of this. He's still looking for Lucy, and his dog, but he's situationally aware and intellectually curious, so he stops to read the walls.

He clicks his tongue, muttering one of the final messages under his breath:]

O celestial body, into your hand I commit my spirit. Receive me in my final hour--. [The disgust is audible in his voice and expression.]

Nobody said your last words had to be good ones. [He concedes, but he's cut off by the very specific sound of Fuckery. Specifically, the merging of multiple husks into a giant, ugly dinosaur. Now all bets are off and he promptly goes from very smug to very alarmed.

Before he can get traction and scramble, it's charging him. It might look like it's too late-- but he moves in a flash. Or, more specifically, in tendrils of smoke. He reappears further away, but not fast enough to lose it's attention. He's looking for an out, and now he's making direct eye contact with the sorry son of a bitch who walked out here.]

07: MONSTER FUSE/WILDCARD
[Happy for previous prompts to lead to this. Also happy for any random encounters in the garage or fortress.]

01

[vaultless]

[ooc: still going back and forth a bit on her exact canon point, but definitely somewhere in season two]

[Truth to be told, Lucy wasn't entirely certain if she had hoped for The Ghoul to also make his way here. He's just such a nasty customer, unnecessarily so in her opinion. But he is good at what he does and he is a spot of familiarity in a world that is even more unknown to her than the wasteland was. Plus, she supposes, if he is here, where she can keep an eye on him, he's not off doing god only knows. Probably shooting things. She isn't sure if he has any other outlets or hobbies beyond that.

All of that said, she never expected to see him astride what is, frankly, one of the cutest little vehicles she has ever seen. Of course, Lucy can roughly count the amount of different vehicles she has seen on her fingers, but still. It's adorable.]

I don't think I've ever wanted a holo of something more.

Michelangelo Hamato | Rise of the TMNT | Drakonis | Current

[mystic_hands]

🗲

04 - Wild Elements : An Icy Awakening

Michelangelo is tired of being cold.

He'd hoped that being inside the big fortress thing would help block some of the biting, miserable wind but so much for that.

"Uuuugh... I think it's colder in here than it is outside!"

He rubs his hands along his arms, rapidly, trying to push some heat into them as best he can. His bare feet are like ice against the floor and he whines, quietly, to himself. It's really hard to stay cheerful when this scary place is trying to turn you into a turtle-cicle!

The booming crash of lightning against the roof lights up a cracked window nearby and Mikey startles at it in a yelp, jumping back. As he does, he skids on the icy floor and, in his scramble to get his balance back, he connects with one of the razor sharp teeth protruding from the wall. The yell echoes around him as it slices along his forearm. There's blood on his skin. On the fang. Dripping to the floor.

The turtle grabs at his arm, cradling it against his plastron, as the cut sears blisteringly hot for a second before it seems to turn cold. Colder still. Burning again but now like frostbite and Mikey clutches at the wound, tightly, with a whimper as the burning feeling starts to almost pulse through his veins. Like it's digging into his very bones.

"Owowow oh no oh gosh oh that's bad what's happening?!" all in a rush as he swears he can feel and even see ice rising along his skin, especially where there's been blood, running down his arm and wrist and hand and crystalizing across it. As he tries to get the wound to stop bleeding and seemingly freezing his hands, there's an echoing roar from further down the hallway and Mikey's head whips up to stare in it's direction in fear.

".... oh no."

🗲

08 - Storm Call : Voices

Michelangelo is standing beside his Party Wagon, staring out at the storm rolling in the distance. His newly changed hands flex and he fidgets in place. The cold isn't hurting him like it used to be. He can feel it but it's... different, somehow. It's gone from being tiring to being... okay.

The storm rolls and a rumble comes from it like the growl of a beast. Mikey's blue eyes are bright, brighter than usual, and he's fixated on the flickering clouds.

"... I hear you. Who are you?" he murmurs at it.

He slides the side door of his van closed, leaving it there as he walks away from it, feeling urged to move more towards the storm. He seems almost hypnotized and as another rumble of distant thunder washes over the area, he nods to whatever it is he's hearing.

"I'm coming. I'll find you."

He steps away from his van more and starts to walk away from the Convoy, trudging through the snow. He isn't carrying anything with him. He doesn't even look like he's really paying attention. Somebody might wanna stop him before he wanders off and gets himself into serious danger.

🗲

10 - Frozen Heart

The spray of rime and ice isn't bothering him like it should have been. Mikey is dimly aware of that but he isn't paying attention to that part. What he's focused on, instead, is the skull that's sending it out to blister the world with frostbite. He reaches out into the almost wall of cold, his changed hands dipping into the visible smoke of subzero temperatures. It doesn't seem to do anything.

He looks up at the things hanging in the branches. He doesn't recognize them as 'hearts', himself, only seeing weird frozen fruit. He's... hungry, actually. He could really go for a big fat pizza right now. Or a steak. Or just a drumstick from something. A haunch of meat sounds really good right now... His teeth feel like they're itching and he makes a sound that's sort of a whine and sort of a frustrated growl.

"You think those are edible? I could really use a snack or fifty. Hang on, I'm gonna try one."

He's already heading over to start reaching for one of the hearts, reaching up like he's going to pluck it from the tree and actually eat it.

🗲

XX - Wildcard

Got another idea? Wanna mix and match? Feel free to throw it here and I'll totally roll with it! Alternately, I've got a Mikey plotting post up on Plurk at CarriePika if you wanna come hit me up and discuss it! ♥

04

[coffinturk]

Vincent also wanders the halls. Is he in immediate sight? No.

But his head does jerk up seconds before the roar because of the scent of blood. Hmm. As Mikey begins to back up, a hand, both claw-like itself and covered with a metal, clawtipped gauntlet, reaches out with the intention of grabbing the turtle's uninjured shoulder. Nominally, to steady the lad.

This probably isn't the best way to soothe someone already suffering from jump scares.

"Hold still." The gunman's voice is gruff. His crimson eyes, touched with blue light from recent undead changes, are focused down the corridor where the monster's roar comes again, accompanied by the thud of footfalls.

"Hm. I know that voice." How often had it echoed down the corridors of the Shinra Mansion's basement, encroaching on his nightmares over the decades? The monstrous shape of the Yin-Yang, two bulbous heads looking for their prey with beady eyes and unnerving lips curved in rictus, opposing smile or frown.

"Got any fire attacks, kid?" Vincent's gotten used to sahagin turtles. Is he ignoring any of Mikey's antics in response to his sudden presence? ...Maybe. Depends on what the guy does.

Serph | Digital Devil Saga | Celestial (Current character)

[bufudine]

02 Fortress
Thanks to the storm, Serph is currently stuck in a fox transformation. Having six tails and sporting shining, silver fur and a marking on his face that's remarkably similar to the brand he normally has on his cheek, he's no wild animal. While he looks perfectly warm and fluffy despite the chilly conditions within the fortress, it isn't just his fur that's keeping him both warm and cool but a monstrous trait.

If you're resting in the main halls and look cold, there will be a fox approaching you dragging a bedroll and plopping it down in front of you, looking expectant.

07 Monster Fuse
While the lack of hands and being a short, quadruped animal is certainly inconvenient, Serph is determined to not let that stop him from scouting the fortress. Perhaps you know this fox is not a mere animal and are accompanying him for his protection. Or perhaps you don't, and Serph has been accompanying you for your protection, quietly padding alongside you. But the more time he spends padding over the fortress' stone floor, claws clicking on the surface, the more resonance between Serph and the Drifter accompanying him builds.

And when a beast spawned from the husks in the fortress' walls lumbers around the corner, body and mind of both Drifters are dragged together with inevitable gravity. Despite appearances, the fox is only a small part of the monster Serph has become since his arrival in Revan. The fusion can drag the monstrous traits of his many transformations into others. Perhaps you find yourself with six feathered wings that bend in strange and unnatural ways emerging from your back. Or perhaps your legs have now become 8 tentacles, twisting and coiling. Maybe your luck has lead you to sprouting the same six, silvery tails that the fox had.

But anyone who has the fortune of fusing with Serph is subject to the presence of the other passenger that resides within him: his demon, Varuna. And Varuna's endless hunger graws at the edges of shared consciousness, a constant low-frequency hum to eat them all

[ooc: If you want more fusion info, here's his comment on the fusion meme. If you wanna brainstorm fusion ideas in more detail, hit me up either in DMs or on jesii!]

07

[propatriamori]

Edward is happy to explore the fortress in Serph's company. He's in his spider form today, the better to climb over and around obstacles, and they've managed to work their way deep into the fortress. When the bright, floating orbs appear in Edward's vibrations, he knows what that means, and turns to inform Serph before the monster even comes around the corner.

"We're going to fuse together soon. It will be okay. We'll be able to speak to each other in our minds."

They don't get much more warning than that before the orbs start drawing them in. Edward reaches down to scoop up Serph and hold him in his arms as they're drawn together; there's no point in resisting. And odds are, something to going to appear and they're going to need to be bigger and stronger than they are now.

This time, Edward doesn't gain working eyes from the fusion, which is disappointing. What he does get is a sense of multiplying, their consciousness splitting off into flailing tentacles, into prancing spider legs. Before he can concentrate too much on that, though, he feels what can only be Varuna: an omnipotent, vast presence, swelling and pulsating in the background. And the hunger... the hunger is all encompassing, endless, bottomless, so powerful and vital that it makes Edward stagger.

Sorry, Serph. He hopes you're more used to this, because it's going to take him awhile to gather himself.