NOVEMBER EVENT

[monstertruckers]

code

The Carnival seems determined to keep the Drifters in their sway for as long as possible… But it is also clearly coming apart at the seams. Drifters don’t take well to captivity. The chains and bars of cages are more battered than before, rusting at the edges. The crowd is becoming more ghostly, more like a mist taking up the tents and the carnival sights. The tent canvas grows more thin, and the moonlight shines through all the brighter.

And once the tents are pulled down and the chains broken, there’s a road to flee down. A road into a fall forest, where ghosts have an impossible time following. Though there’s still plenty of mystery among the leaves, and the abandoned farms.

01: CARNIVAL CURTAIN CALL

The Ringmaster makes another appearance, even as his carnival is losing the battle to hold the Drifters in place. He seems to have another speech at the ready… But he doesn’t get a chance to voice it. Not when thunder snarls through the air, a voice on the edges of it.

“You can’t tame monsters. Not any more than you can tame the moon, or the Creator themselves! You’re in the presence of the Chosen, and you will honor them as such!”

At that last snap, a bolt of lightning strikes the top of the big top tent.

The lightning carries something else with it. Shards of the moon in silvery trails, tearing the air in their wake. From there the Carnival goes to hell, as multiple things happen at once. (And assorted Drifter plots and actions go off, to add to the chaos!)

01-A: BURNING DOWN, BREAKING OUT

The big top tent goes up in flames, burning down in smoke and cinders. The various specters waver in the heat haze, and flee from the flames. Anyone caught under the burning wreckage is in for a bad time, and is at risk of burning to death.

But Drifters are far from powerless in the chaos. Drifters who participated in the races or the combat arenas will find they have the strength to break out of any bindings and push their way through all obstacles. Meanwhile, Drifters who took in visions and fortunes will have insight with navigating the chaos and finding a clear path out. All of this makes it possible to escape the chaos.

01-B: WHIRLING EXIT

Whirlwinds scythe through the carnival grounds, called by moon shards raining down and a storm finally breaking overhead. The twisters tear apart the tents… But can’t seem to touch the Convoy or the vehicles.

Still, it’s advised that Fast cars lead the way through the storm, and Tough cars flank the Convoy as shields; one can’t tell when the winds will change their minds and start flipping cars. Or at least start pelting them with various debris.

While fleeing, one can see ghosts snared by the whirlwinds and pulled up into the skies. Drifters outside their vehicles have a high chance of being caught as well. If pulled up into the storm, they’ll be coming back down with serious physical injuries.

02: ON THE ROAD AGAIN

It’s finally possible to leave the smoldering carnival behind, the hills fading out in favor of a misty forest filled with scattered and assorted trees. The forest is coated with fall colored leaves, the road winding between the bigger tree trunks. While the Convoy is rolling, some Drifter vehicles may have a little more trouble; being exposed to several intense Moon Warps has left them with some quirks that need to be worked out.

The Convoy can provide at least a little help for these problems in the form of guide books: the best way to rid those problems is with a bit of moon shard, or the heart of a Husk monster; it seems to draw the supernatural weirdness out of the cars, and gets confined to the shards. Alternately, whacking the hood/wheel/engine a bunch might expel the problem. And it also might damage the vehicle in the process.

In the meantime, Drifters get to deal with the following:

02-A: ENGINE TROUBLES

Take The Wheel
The Drifter’s vehicle has decided to steer by itself, and accelerate as it wishes. And this doesn’t always entail staying on the road. While the farmlands mostly consist of rolling hills and forests, a Drifter might still find themselves fighting with the wheel to avoid hitting ditches, trees, or other cars.
Horn Concerto
Braking causes the horn to sound. Opening the door causes the horn to sound. Staring really hard at the wheel causes the horn to sound. It seems the vehicle has found its voice and is determined to use it, no matter how much it might annoy the Drifters or call the attention of monsters.
Clingy
The vehicle has become very attached to the Drifter, in the form of locking the doors and doing its best to reinforce the windows. Or keeping Drifters latched to the seat by seat belts, even growing them on motorcycles or mechanical mounts. And the radio seems to try to sooth the Drifters with playing relaxing music… It just doesn’t want to let go of the Drifters, and they might need some help with getting back outside of the vehicle.

03: FARM GAZING

A large chunk of the convoy food has been converted to carnival food and needs restocking, as Drifters cannot live on hotdogs and cotton candy alone. Thankfully there’s no shortage of farms in this countryside, all of them abandoned. And many of them still holding assorted foodstuffs for plundering.

Though even here, it’s clear that moon shards have fallen and twisted the surrounding area; both the farms and the farm animals. Chickens, cows, and horses have been replaced by flesh eating cockatrices, gorgons, and very angry bicorns.

Farm animals aren’t the only thing that have been changed; the buildings have also been twisted around, and it looks like someone has parked observatories and star gazing telescopes on top of several barns and farm houses.

03-A: SEEING STARS

The observatories crammed on top of the farm buildings aren’t just for show. Various telescopes grow out of the roofs, all pointed towards the sky. The houses themselves are barely standing up… But capable of providing shelter and camping spots. Various screens and recording equipment are inside the farm houses, looking out of place but still working, and still logging information. Drifters can easily gain the following information:
+There is something active inside the moon. The Silver Tears identify it as a god and fought to release it.
+The moon causes transformations, and has caused them for centuries. It’s believed that the entity sealed in the moon causes those transformations.
+Moon shards have fallen to Revan to cause transformations. Silver Tears saw them as a blessing from the entity. Steel Wardens viewed them as a curse and punishment for the wicked. There was plenty of fighting between factions, and the incidents only increased.
+The final entry is warning of an imminent shattering of the moon, and a mass transformation unprecedented compared to everything.
Time spent on the machines has a price in turn: it compels Drifters to get closer to the moon if at all possible. Time spent on the roofs, up in trees, and a great deal of star gazing. It might take some work to talk them back down or back inside.

04: HARVEST MOONSHARD

Meanwhile, there’s the matter of all the foodstuffs laying out in the farm fields, ready for the harvest. Be cautious however, as some of the food is ready to put up a fight; there’s at least a few vegetables that have come to life and are ready to swing assorted produce around on vines like very strange flails, to say nothing of the belligerent transformed livestock.
Cockatrices are avian monsters that look almost like giant roosters with slight reptilian features… And with a petrifying gaze. They are limited in their flight, relying mostly on gliding and flutter jumps. Instead they close with their prey on the ground, trying to slow their target with their gaze or completely petrify them… And then slash them apart with razor talons.
The farm Gorgons have replaced their petrifying breath with confusion; they can exhale a beguiling mist that fools the senses of anyone who wanders into it. Hallucinations abound, usually designed to enrage or panic those affected.
Bullfango boars have taken the place of pigs, and are extremely belligerent and ready to use their razor sharp tusks. And the horses look a lot more like bicorns… And are very ready to use their horns on anyone who gets too close.

04-A: SCARES

On top of that are the various scarecrows that dot the surrounding farmlands. They seem to act as guardians to the crops.

Their eyes carry an eerie glow, and anyone who meets with those eyes will glimpse visions of their worst fears. It might be just a blink at first; a hint of fearful things or a whisper of what someone least wants to hear. Going into the vegetable patches and staying under the gaze of the scarecrow only increases the hallucinations. That is until those fears begin to manifest and turn real. And dangerous… Though whatever curse lingers on the scarecrows isn’t enough to make those fears real for more than a breath.

But just enough for others to glimpse them, and for the fears to inflict damage. It’s possible to harvest meat and vegetables, but with plenty of physical and emotional wounds along the way.

04-B: CAUTIOUS OVER CUCCOS

There's one more odd creature wandering the farms: a very innocent, innocuous looking bunch of chickens. Or "cuccos" as the database calls them. Sadly the database is also on the fritz, and Drifters may or may not see the "AVOID AGITATING AT ALL COSTS" warning.

Because when agitated, these birds have a habit of calling down hordes of other cuccos to destroy the threat. (Or at least give it a very bad time.) Curiously, these birds also have a sharp dislike of the scarecrows lurking about. If one is lured/tricked/thrown at a scarecrow, it quickly transfers its ire to the thing. Though any Drifters nearby are advised to seek cover all the same, once these things get mad.

When left alone the birds are quite docile, but it doesn't take much to get them upset!

05: MOON WARP

The scarecrows take on a more sinister glow some nights, pulsing violently with light before exploding; moon shards lay dormant in many of them, before activating one night and forcing changes in Drifters.

Along with advancing current monster traits, two more monsters are available:

The bovine Taurus, featuring centaurs, minotaurs, and satyrs.

And the vulpine Kitsune, who also appear in Gumiho and Huli Jin varients.

05: MONSTER SHIFT, KITSUNE

A fox monster possessing multiple tails. They may take the form of Kitsune, Gumiho, or Huli Jin. They may feature a full or partial vulpine transformation. Along with all Kitsune traits there is also:
+Trickster Curse: Anyone who steals from farms or acts with trickery/deception risks activating traits.
+Liver Eater: The Kitsune begins to feel a clawing hunger that can only be satisfied by the liver from prey. The fresher, the better. Husk monsters can fulfill this craving!
+Fox Fire: can generate phantasmal fire either at will or while emotional. These fires cannot burn, unless willed to do so… Or if one’s emotions grow out of hand.
+Fox Fright: If fear or anxiety becomes too great, may become a fox (either small or giant!) in an attempt to flee and hide.
+Tails To Tell: Growing extra tails, up to nine. This may interfere with balance, or even reach out to brush against other people like they have a mind of their own.
+Thief Feet: Gains a talent for moving quietly and stealthily, even able to hide from the farm monsters and the scarecrows.
+Favored Prey: gains an appetite and a ferocity for cockatrices.

05: MONSTER SHIFT, TAURUS

Hoofed monsters who can appear as minotaurs, satyrs, and centaurs. In addition to having all Taurus traits the following also occurs:
+Red Flag: several of the scarecrows carry red rags on them, which flap in the breeze… And have a way of inflaming Taurus tempers, prompting them to charge. On impact, the red fabric shreds but tries to put off one more pulse of fear.
+Eat Your Veggies: on top of a craving for vegetable, Taurus can also heal their wounds or restore their stamina when eating vegetables from these gardens!
+Horn Sharpening: when horns grow in, they can itch and ache on a Drifter’s head. Rubbing and sharpening them against hard surfaces is the best way to dull the discomfort.
+Safety In Numbers: There is a sudden pressing need for Taurus to stay close to others; being alone causes anxiety and irritability.
+Raging Bull: Threats to a Taurus’ herd invokes anger and aggression from a Taurus, and they will do whatever it takes to crush the threat.
+Digging In: Drifters should take care with their steps. Pressing their feet too hard into the ground can cause a small quake… or even compel them to charge someone, if they make eye contact for too long.
+Stir Crazy: going indoors for longer than a minute causes restlessness and agitation in a Taurus, and a pressing need to get back outside.

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.

Leaf storm: The forests are filled with gold and red leaves, many of them falling off trees in a rain. The leaves themselves seem to generate heat; usually just enough to warm someone from contact… But occasionally enough to burn, or to cause small fires.

Crows: The scarecrows on the farm seem to be doing their job, with how the crows are confined to the fringes of the wild. But unfortunately the crows have grown all the more hungry, desperate… And just a bit monstrous, with razor feathers and a hunger for flesh.

Barn Storm: Thunderstorms left over from the carnival still brew around the farmlands. And while the Convoy can provide some protection from the storms, there’s also plenty of farm houses holding strong and can serve for shelter and a place for repairs.

Running Low: As the Convoy drives on, a new detail lights up on the dashboard of both the trucks and the cars. After months of running smoothly, the fuel is finally beginning to run low, and a new source must be found.

NAVIGATION

Comments

Serph | Digital Devil Saga

[bufudine]

[The first two prompts, 04: Harvest moonshard and 04-A: Scares, may have references to cannibalism and monster eating later on.]

04: Harvest Moonshard
After his starvation and many of their meat supplies having transformed into strange food that's not only disgusting to his palate but does nothing to feed his demon, Serph has turned his energies to hunting for more replacements to their stock.

(He knows Edward will be catching food in his webs but... there's a less practical reason for why he's hunting.)

Anyone else out looking to gather food from the farmlands may happen across a tall demon stalking through the overgrown fields, ignoring the plant produce. If you've hunted or fought alongside Serph before, it might seem a little unusual; Serph tends to only transform into his demon when a fight's imminent, not before.

Perhaps you've been accosted by an othrus, one of the two headed demon dogs guarding the farm you're looting. The creature is strong and chases down would be thieves, using flame breath to weaken prey beyond the reach of their fangs and claws. But before you can be burned, a wall of ice from Serph blocks the flames, melting from the heat.

Or perhaps you've borne witness to a bullfango charging Serph at high speed. But instead of evading and striking, Serph meets the charge with strength, hands grasped around the creature's tusks as his clawed feet slide a few inches back from the force. It would be the perfect opportunity for another person to strike while the boar snorts and squeals, hooved feet scrabbling in the dirt.

04-A: Scares
Serph has endured a lot in his short life but most of it he's endured with an almost eerie calm. But there has always been one little fear, niggling in the back of his mind ever since Coordinate 136. And for the fear to become manifest while they were trapped in the Carnival, starvation finally allowing his demon take control and rampage...

His comrades didn't allow him to wake with blood in his mouth.

As he stalks through the fields guarded by scarecrows still cloaked in the shape of his demon, Varuna, the knife of starvation lances through conscious thought and he lets out an uncharacteristic snarl. But he doesn't let go of the transformation. Approaching will briefly manifest a carbon copy of Varuna, bloodied teeth bared. And this Varuna will let out an eerie roar before bearing down upon you with uncanny speed, the hidden blade within his right arm unsheathing as he aims to slice off an arm.

04-B: Cautious over cuccos
Serph has become accustomed to his form regularly changing to another monster and this time he's changed to a fox-like creature not unlike Jack. And just like Jack when a storm swells, his form shifts to a fully vulpine one with far too much energy to burn.

Serph doesn't usually try very hard to resist the urges of his new forms when they're not causing any harm and this form is strongly attracted to the sound of clucking. And so when his fangs sink into the neck of a small sized prey animal -- a cucco -- he's entirely unprepared for the swarm of chickens to descend upon him, pecking and scratching viciously at him.

Anyone out in the farmland while a storm brews above might see a six tailed fox with silver fur and a familiar marking on his left cheek sprinting away from a horde of angry cuccos, their angry shrieks carried by the wind. And said fox is, very regrettably, heading directly for you.

[Closed to Ren]
While they've left the Carnival in waking world, it seems that in the world of dreams that's not the case. It's dark inside the tent -- it's unclear which of the Carnival tents it is -- dim outlines of cages barely visible from the occluded light. The faint rustle of feathers is all there is to indicate there's something in the cages before a spotlight turns on, so glaring that all colour within it bleaches white.

In the waking world, Serph has returned to his winged, human-like form. But while trapped in the cage of his dream, he's returned to the armless shape of the falcon, expression locked in a fierce glare as talons scrape the bottom of his cage.

"You have to leave."

[Wildcard!]
[Want to thread but the prompts in the top level don't work for you? Hit me up either in journal DMs or on plurk (jesii)!]

4-B

[faceguy]

Leo’s never been out in the farmland like this, and so he has absolutely no real world experience with chickens. For all he knows, they’re all this aggressive.

Seeing a big group of them chasing a fox (who is likely from the convoy) is funny. Up until the moment it turns his direction…

“Whoa, whoa, hey! Don’t lead them over here- aah!”

Oh great, now he had to run from cuccos, too. He falls into step with the fox, running as hard as he can.

“What’d you do to tick them off this bad!?”

04

[solitarysoul]

Serph forcing the bullfango gives Levi the perfect window to take the shot he needs. He shoots the creature in the eye, which causes it to stagger much more than Serph should need to finish it off.

4-A

[iron_stomach]

Staying put is tough this month, and Heat's not bothering. He'd waited a little while in the RV, he'd poked around in some of the ramshackle buildings aannnd.. he'd left again in short order, annoyed at the press of walls.

Even sleeping outside was preferred, for now.

Serph's been deliberately running around as Varuna, and that's a level of temptation to hungry instincts than Serph would usually bother with. It means Heat's gone looking for his own kills a little more frequently than he otherwise might bother with simply to reassure himself that Serph's not about to lose the endless battle to hunger again.

When he returns this time, in the quadrupedal shape better suited for traversing distances quickly, with a much smaller bullfango clamped in flat grazer's-teeth, it's to watch Varuna ... gain a twin. A hostile one. The bone-riddled boar is dropped, and as the not-Varuna charges, the blood-spattered unicorn pins ears back and waits until this second one is in range before wheeling around with alarming speed and lashing out with both dinner plate sized rear hooves.

[phantomshow]

Unlike when he fought in the ring at the Carnival, Ren is now dressed in all his Metaverse gear - white mask, black coat, red gloves. His horns are gone, and he holds a silver dagger in one hand. This place is not the Metaverse, but it’s still faintly familiar. He can’t place it, just knows he’s been here before.

It’s not long before Ren’s standing in front of the spotlit cage, puzzling over falcon-Serph’s words. He doesn’t feel the need to leave. Surely he must be here for a reason.

“Pretty sure if I was meant to leave, I wouldn’t still be here,” he says, flipping his dagger up in the air and catching it with a well-practiced nonchalance. “Why do you think I need to leave?”

Edward Courtenay | Downton Abbey

[propatriamori]

02: On the Road

The escape from the circus was chaotic and horrible, but being on the road again is a blessed relief. At first, Edward is tense and jittery, constantly rapping on car doors and windows to make sure nothing is following them. The more miles that pass between the convoy and the carnival, the more he relaxes.

As the convoy wends into the countryside, Edward will start moving between vehicles during the nightly stops. He's found a crutch somewhere, and is using it to accommodate his damaged spider leg. Those who know him well may notice that he's not moving as confidently as before, pausing more often and for longer periods of time, and stomping his feet on a regular basis.

When he spots (or thinks he does) someone he knows, Edward will approach with a slightly ashamed expression on his face.

"Would you mind if I rode in your vehicle for one or two days? I'm unable to drive my own at the moment."

02a: Engine Troubles

For those that do offer Edward a ride, they'll find him to be an exemplar passenger. He'll be quiet and unobtrusive, unless the person driving wants interaction, in which case he's only too pleased to chat and keep them company. It's during one of those afternoons, during a long, meandering discussion, that Edward suddenly blanches white after rapping on the window.

"Would you pull over for a moment, please?"

Once the vehicle is stopped, Edward will get out and crutch over to a riderless motorcycle that's idling close by. "No, you need to go back to the Tank! I can't ride you right now! Please, go back to the Tank."

The motorcycle isn't having any of it, and shifts forward to bump its front tire against one of Edward's legs.

04: Harvest Moonshard

Edward is in his element when the convoy stops at the farms. Before he went to university and then war, he was raised on a farming estate, and he is delighted to be somewhere so familiar. Even the wild, dangerous livestock isn't getting him down, and he immediately starts traipsing through the fields to harvest their bounty.

He's under one of the scarecrows when he realises someone is nearby, and straightens up to wave. His voice is bright and cheery when he calls out, and he has a small plant tucked carefully under one arm.

"Look what I've found!"

4-B: Cuccos

In the afternoons, Edward sets up camp under a tree. He has gathered corn in the fields, and is using it to make some new friends. He's surrounded on all sides by cuccos, clucking softly and pecking at the corn he scatters for them. Several have settled in next to him, fluffing their feathers and leaning against his spider abdomen. One has even made itself at home on his shoulder, its beak plucking at his hair.

Wildcard!

Choose your own adventure, or let me know if you'd like something specific.

4

[faceguy]

Leo stops at the sound of a friendly voice, turning to see Edward standing awfully close to one of those creepy scarecrows. Holding… hm.

“Oh, yeah. A plant.” Leo tries to sound enthused, but fails. He isn’t the brother that’s into botany. “That’s cool, buddy.”

02

[soldiernoclass]

"Hey!" Zack is, for a moment, too happy to see him to register the request - and then too distracted by the crutch and the messed up leg it's covering for to answer it.

"Woah, what happened?" It's immediate and concerned, as he steps out, away from his mechanical chocobo and toward Edward's bad side. It only seems to occur to him then that he should answer Edward's first question before asking more of his own.

"You need a ride - uh, well, that might be kind of complicated..."

4-B

[solitarysoul]

Seeing Edward's makeshift camp, Levi decides it wouldn't be a bad time to take a break. He heads over to the other man, smiling lightly. "I see you made some friends."

Donnie // Volare: Harpy

[purplexing]

I-A. Break Out
It's hard to gather the nerve to go back towards any cages and tents, but these particular ones are their vehicles, their only way out. He only wishes it were easier to figure out how to break them free of whatever magic has warped them so. But he doesn't like the looks of whatever magic holds the accursed carnival grounds. He's no expert in mystical affairs but he can't help but feel that something's very unstable about it.

He's only proven right when the entire place erupts into chaos. They've been on a powder keg just waiting to be lit, and now that things have exploded, there's no sense in sticking around. He doesn't want to think about the voice he'd heard on the wind, although from the words said, he has a feeling it involves the Silver Tears.

"Come on!" he shouts at those he recognizes as fellow Drifters, particularly if it doesn't seem like they know which way to find their rides.


I-B. Racing the Wind

There's a vehicle he can't leave, and seeing it left unclaimed as the Convoy begins to peel out only makes that awful emptiness in the pit of his stomach grow. It's cutting it close, but Donnie ends up moving the Tank to get Jayce's truck hooked up to be towed behind it.

It's probably not the greatest decision when you've got a killer tornado at your backs, but Donnie's not giving up a resource like the forge, and he stubbornly believes that maybe Jayce has caught a ride with someone else. He doesn't want to think about it, but soon enough there's plenty of other things to think of, and most importantly he doesn't want to endanger those he cares about, and if anyone's decided they'd rather be in the Turtle Tank than out in their own vehicle then he's hardly going to kick anyone out.

He'd appreciate the extra eyes keeping a look-out as things start dropping around them. But he also knows his Tank can actually take more of a beating than other cars, and as much as he hates the thought of his baby coming to any damage, his recently honed territorial instincts make it easier for him to not think twice about bringing the Tank in to shield someone else if it looks like something's coming in too close for call.


II. The Work Shall Keep Me Busy
With the worst far behind them and some semblance of peace finally able to settle in, so too does everything else. The experience has still left him a bit jumpy, not to mention needy for company, but there are things he needs to do, both by way of tasks and in desperate need of a distraction.

If he can manage it, he brings something to work on so long as he can keep sight of his brother or just be within range of him. And there are plenty of things he has to do that can be portable, carefully taking apart cyborg limbs from his earlier salvaging, finding parts that can be repurposed for the prosthetic spider leg that Edward had asked of him.

But eventually he has to make use of the forge, and while it feels good to be doing things with his hands, creating and reforming rather than clawing and shredding, the truth is harder and harder to ignore with prolonged absence of the person who had built the thing. Using a forge isn't quiet work, so it's always obvious when he's stopped, and sometimes it's for the completion of a piece or giving it time to be heated again. And sometimes it's just because that hollowed out feeling refuses to be ignored anymore, and one would find him sitting by one of the tires of the truck-forge, arms hugging his knees, wings drawn over him like he could hide from the world.


III. Moon Gazing
Any sort of technology is bound to draw a Donatello, and while the ramshackle observatories perched atop the farm rooftop is an odd sight, the machines still operating in the interior are a welcome sight. It's a puzzle and another distraction, information that Donnie eagerly eats up. It helps him feel more like himself, consulting the logs, working out what all these observations have been.

"Fascinating..." he marvels to whoever might have joined him. "It's still been operating after all this time."

He spends a lot of time going over the data. This is the kind of information he prefers, not the propaganda of the Tears, but simple, pure fact.

Maybe it's not too unusual for those who know Donnie enough to start noticing his focal shift. And he is part bird now, so maybe hanging around on top of the roof so much or taking night flights high up isn't terribly odd. But a lot of the time he'll be found just sitting up there, staring up at the night sky once the sun goes down.

It's probably fine.


IV. Choose Your Own Adventure
((OOC: If you wanna do something else..!))

II. The Work Shall Keep Me Busy

[bufudine]

The sound of the forge is familiar, but its owner is gone.

Serph still doesn't really know what to do with the feelings that arise when someone is gone. Jack had taught him a little about what humans do after someone dies, but what do you do when someone simply... disappears from the Convoy? With the moon warps, it's unclear what happens to them. But they've lost people in their journey with no confirmed outcome, no leads to begin any kind of search, and the Convoy's directive leaving them with little choice but to keep moving without their missing comrades.

When there's an unusually long pause in the forge's usual noise, Serph approaches in an unintentionally unnaturally quiet manner, a consequence of yet another monster shift. This time, fox-like ears crown his head and six bushy tails wave behind him. But he still has his feathered wings and perhaps the noise of their rustling as they unfurl is enough to alert Donnie to his presence before Serph calls his name.

"Donnie?" His usually impassive expression is instead pinched in concern as he looks down at the harpy sitting coccooned by his own wings. Are you alright? seems like a stupid question to ask, so says, "Do you want company?"

III

[undyingcrow]

Donnie isn't the only one drawn to the observatories and the stars. He's been making frequent trips to take notes, revisit the entries, and even peer at the night sky. When he spots Donnie on the roof, he spreads his wings and makes his way up, landing with poise and grace befitting of his now more angelic nekomata form.

"Breathtaking, isn't it?" The night sky, untainted by the shine of city lights. He certainly never enjoyed views like this in Tokyo.

I-B sorta

[faceguy]

Leo feels a little bad that he hadn't helped more in their grand escape from the circus, but in his defense, he was busy slowly dying from a hole in his stomach.

It's only made itself more pronounced in recent days, and especially now, as they drive away from the eternal night of the circus and back into a more normal weather cycle (minus the cyclone that's still chasing them, of course), he's only getting weaker.

He'd managed to make it to the tank, at least, which was good because he was in no state to drive his shellhog. Now he sits collapsed in his usual chair at the front of the tank, curled over his midriff and trying to watch out the windows.

"Watch your left-" he advises, hoping he's not too slow to actually help Donnie avoid the falling debris crashing down to their left side.

II

[propatriamori]

Hearing the forge ringing out again gives Edward some hope--maybe Jayce just got turned around, or was laying very low during the carnival and then caught a ride with someone else--but there's no sign of Jayce's heavy footsteps or painfully slow heartbeat when he approaches. Every time he comes by, and he's around fairly frequently, both to soothe his cranky motorcycle and to assist Donnie however he can with the spider leg project, there are only turtles around the tank. No sign of Jayce at all.

It's the same when Edward paces the rest of the convoy in ever-widening circles, trying to find Danse's truck or Colt's stupid wiener vehicle. They're nowhere to be found, and guilt seizes in Edward's chest. He got hurt, and then taken away, separated, and now they're gone, and it is somehow Edward's fault. If he'd just been stronger, or faster, or or or...

When he finds Donnie huddled next to a truck wheel, Edward comes over and settles down quietly next to him.

"I miss him, too."

I-A

[soldiernoclass]

Great. Another narrow escape from a place that's actively burning to the ground. That's just what he needs. But Zack isn't looking for a way out, yet - he's looking for the others. Which probably just looks like blundering between the burning tents, from a distance, to be fair.

"Donnie!" That shout draws his attention immediately, and he races around a collapsing game booth, arm up to shield himself from the gust of boiling air the building storm buffets him with as he passes. "Where is everybody?"

II

[hauntcursed]

It would have been more difficult not to hear the sounds of a forge being used, especially with Andrew's sharp hearing. Which meant that eventually he followed the noises and made his way over. He'd finally managed a haircut at some point, but the longer hair above his undercut still covered the pointed tips of his ears. Those and his claws were the only visible changes he'd gone through so far, not counting the full transformation he could do.

For a moment, when he got close enough to see someone huddled down in the kind of way that spoke to the void of loss that still frequently yawned open inside him, he hesitated. He was shit with words most of the time, and he couldn't guarantee he wouldn't end up putting his foot in his mouth, but that didn't mean he shouldn't make an attempt at conversation.

He cleared his throat in an attempt to announce himself in at least a somewhat non-startling way before he made any move to approach closer. "Hey, uh. You can tell me to get lost if I'm wrong, but I've got the feeling you could use some company." And Andrew knew what it was like to be alone and feel alone, when all he really wanted was someone to be there with him.

III

[solitarysoul]

Levi has been assigning him self as buddy/security detail to people leaving the convoy for months, so maybe its not too odd he's accompanying Donnie even though he doesn't understand the machinery at all.

"The radio station was too. I don't think any of its maintained, I guess it was just built really well?"

Goro Akechi | Persona 5 Royal | Chimera/Nekomata

[undyingcrow]

A. Burning Down, Breaking Out

The words that carried through the air make Akechi's fur and feathers stand on end. It's a new voice, accompanied by thunder. No doubt the work of the Tears...

But there's little time to dwell on it. With fire raging and the circus collapsing, Akechi springs into action in his chimera form. Though he wields fire effortlessly, that's not the only element up his sleeve, and he sails through the air, launching blasts of water and bursts of ice to try and douse the flames. Somehow, his mind remains clear. He can sense the most dangerous spaces in the chaos, and if he sees other Drifters struggling, he'll call out to them.

"Follow my lead! I'll ensure we escape."

B. Seeing Stars

The allure of the observatories ensnared Akechi almost as soon as they arrived. So many opportunities to take in the stars, the sky, and even the moon draw him to the telescopes. Of course, he's come prepared, with his phone at the ready to snap pictures and take notes. To make the task easier, he's slipped into his nekomata form, still carrying the angelic wings he'd gained more recently.

One look at the moon sends a shiver down his spine. His fur stands on end. There is something inside, though it's difficult to tell what. Perhaps the surrounding machinery holds the key...

Needless to say, Akechi holes himself up in the observatories, checking the logs, taking notes... Every bit of information is pertinent in order to find the truth of their circumstances. Clashing perspectives, the warning of the Midnight Impact... it's all so alluring.

"All this history at our fingertips," he says to anyone in the vicinity. "Think of what we can learn here..."

Though, the longer he spends, the greater the urge to get closer.

When he's not in the observatories, he can be spotted on rooftops and in treetops, gazing up at the sky. Perhaps he's been up there a little too long, in fact. It might be worth coaxing him down at this rate.

C. Scares

When Akechi finally leaves the rooftops and trees, he tries to investigate the crops. Returning to his chimera form, he prowls in the evening, but there's a problem.

The scarecrows and their pointed stares catch the corner of his eye. His feathers fluff up, his ears fold back, and the lips of his long, pointed snout curl back to show all those pointy teeth.

That's when he sees it. Sees him. A tall, bald Japanese man with a goatee and orange-tinted shades, smiling wryly. Don't think for a minute that you have a fresh start. Once they learn what you did, they'll leave you behind.

"Shut up!" He shoots flames at the figment. "This isn't real. You're not real..."

His own voice laughs back at him. A twisted smirk lines the face of his own human form, with empty eyes. You honestly believe you can change? Look at yourself! Now your appearance matches the beast you are...

There's a rustle in the grass. Strange tentacles arise, along with a gentler voice. Don't you see, Akechi-kun? I could have given you a real fresh start. You could have been happy...

Those nearby may sense sudden spikes in temperature or catch the sweeping, bright blast of Megidolaon spells.

Intervention may be necessary.

D. Wild Card!

[Open to other prompts and options! Can do prose or brackets.]

C. Scares

[bufudine]

In the evening's approaching darkness, the sudden appearance of flame is as immediately attention grabbing as an emergency flare. There's another monster stalking the farmlands, hunting (always hunting), but this one recognises his comrades and recognises when they're being threatened.

And given the obvious distress that Akechi is in, Serph doesn't hesitate to respond with lethal force.

Light reflects off the bone-white carapace of Varuna as Serph surges out from the shadows, arm blades drawn with intent to slice through the tentacles like a guillotine.

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

[thegoodslayer]

I. And indeed your servants are beaten

[For those who didn't know that Faith was a fox for the last several weeks, her arrival in the Jeep to help defend against the whirlwind will be the first time anybody has seen her. She seems to be making up for lost time, though, driving alongside the other cars to catch the debris flung by the wind, letting the tougher car take the damage in their stead.

Unfortunately, it seems to be getting more and more destructive, and the Jeep is taking a beating. Hopefully it holds together okay.]

II. If it is lame or blind or has any serious defect

[In other news, the Jeep is not holding together okay at all.

As they proceed into the countryside, many vehicles begin behaving unusually, and Faith's is no exception. However, in addition to being rebellious, the Jeep seems to be having another problem... it's just not running well. It's limping along making horrible noises, barely keeping up with the rest of the caravan. At night, she'll try- and fail- to do repairs, although the fact that the Jeep keeps trying to drive off on her isn't helping. Fortunately, it's slow enough that she can catch up, and- if necessary- drag the damn thing back. Super-strength is helpful sometimes. Too bad it doesn't make her any better at fixing cars.]

III. The flesh that touches any unclean thing shall not be eaten

[Faith doesn't exactly need food anymore, but she's still eager to help scavenge from the farms. Partly because it's something simple enough that she knows how to do it, but mostly because she's realized there's monsters in the farms, and where there's monsters, there's Faith fighting 'em.

She's not at all afraid to tussle with the bullfango and bicorns, and she's even willing to try her luck with the cockatrices and gorgons despite the extra hazards- as always, if you get in over your head, she'll be down to bail you out.

And if she gets in over her head? Well. Wouldn't be the first time.]

IV. I will fear no evil

[The scarecrows, on the other hand, she decides aren't a threat, and instead she simply pays no mind to them. Even as she starts to hear... something. Is that a voice? Taunting and familiar? Or maybe footsteps. Maybe she sees something out of the corner of her eye, though it seems to vanish. Maybe you see something- a petite blonde woman, a handsome dark-haired man, or a younger, less corpse-like version of Faith herself.

Yes, it seems her favorite nightmares have come back to play once again. She's trying her best not to let them get to her, but it's difficult.]

((OOC note: Feel free to specify if you'd like to encounter nightmare-Buffy, Angelus, or evil pre-face-turn Faith.))

V. 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)

III

[purplexing]

[Donnie's on the hunt, because he does need food, and he hasn't had much of a decent meal ever since their whole carnival stint. But his priority had been to make sure his brother had the means to be healed, and now that Leo's stomach was taken care of, it's his turn.

It's made him a bit eager to feast, whatever previous apprehension he'd had about feeding on a fresh kill apparently a concern no longer, or something he's already forgotten about. He's just hungry, although perhaps that also lends to the extra boldness in attempting to take down a much larger target in spite of better judgment.

While striking from above had given him a brief advantage, it's going to take more than a single rake of his talons to bring down a bullfango, and the creature's not all that happy about being accosted by a winged reptile. It nearly catches Donnie with its long tusks, surprising him with its speed. Okay, maybe the direct approach wasn't such a great idea after all.]

arcade gannon | fallout: new vegas | naga

[taediosum]

i. harvest moonshard

[ Resupplying is, as always, top priority when the opportunity arises. And now it's doing double duty as a convenient distraction from - everything else. The past month, their thinned numbers, all of the new and exciting ways in which this already terrible roadtrip has gotten worse? No, we're shelving all of that in favor of restocking on things a little more (ostensibly) healthy than preserved junk food from a haunted carnival. (Though it's really the latter, more than the former, which he takes issue with, on that note.) 

Arcade spends a fair amount of his time around the farms out in the fields, going miraculously unbothered by the unhospitable vegetation. Or maybe it's not so miraculous. Whenever a maize stalk or a gourd vine starts to swing its weight around or slither toward him, he stops gathering food in his pack and looks around sharply with a Knock it off. And they do, with some irritable rustling of leaves. 

If he spies someone else getting tangled in the angry vegetables' repeated attacks, he stops long enough to ward them off, too. ] 

Could you cut that out? [ Vines wither and produce drops from flailing stalks as he radiates brusque annoyance, continuing on his way back out of the fields. ]

[ Alternately, Arcade can be found back at his truck, both of the large side doors on the front of the newly transformed cab thrown open. Inside the vertibird-truck hybrid, there's even more space, now, and he's busy taking advantage of the glassed-in cockpit to build a small garden for the produce he's transplanting from the fields. Plants that need much less sunlight are relegated to the trailer, where he's pulled back some of the stitched-together canvas to let some light in, for now, as he fastens cracked and broken pottery full of greenery to the metal seat running the length of the trailer. ]

 

ii. seeing stars 

[ The observatories are an even better distraction. Although, by now, none of the information he's found feels all that shocking - it makes sense, given what little else they do know - it's so rare to find complete information. Real records, even if half of them feel speculative and the rest fantastical. (Even beyond what passes for normal, around here.) He's instantly absorbed in the material, and brings back a handful of the books he checked out of those old, sunken libraries to compare their fragmented bits and pieces with the screens. 

Before long, he's started pacing - back and forth across the empty observatory, holes crumbled through its flickering map of the stars. And then up the wall, head buried in an old, piecemeal manuscript. And then along the inside of the dome, between networks of foreign stars, and right toward the view of real stars, through one of those holes in the roof, with his white coat hanging around his shoulders. Can someone fall up into the sky? In Revan, maybe. Either way, he certainly looks like he's about to. ]

 

iii. scares

[ Not all of the nuisances in the fields can be taken care off as handily as the plants. Lingering too long around the scarecrows (which do little to intimidate the (mostly) human, inevitably has its consequences. 

And in Arcade's case, that consequence comes in the enormous, hulking form prowling along the field's edge, looming in the shadows of the trees. His calm is rattled immediately, recognition a cold shock as he grabs the arm of the foraging drifter next to him. ]

We need to leave. 

[ His voice is quiet and strained, and he's already backing away from the giant phantom shadow of a deathclaw moving slowly along behind the rows of overgrown vegetation. It vanishes as quickly as it came, as quickly as those weird flashes of - what? Frighteningly bad memories, when he first laid eyes on one of the scarecrows dotting the fields. But it can't be gone. It looked too real. ]

iv. wildcard

[ open to other prompts, plot w/me, etc. also feel free to switch to prose. monster stuff opt-in also jic ]

ii

[undyingcrow]

[Arcade isn't the only one gathering notes and perusing the logs, though Akechi has come with his smartphone, flipping through his own notes...]

The vision... A cult of Tears performing a ritual, which led to the moon's fracturing...

[He hums, and when he spots Arcade, he looks up from the screen.

His chimeric transformation has... advanced, to say the least. Where before, his face remained recognizably human, he's since grown an almost dragon-like snout, with a hardened tip akin to a beak. The overall shape gives the profile of a crow, with the black feathers, however offset by his hooked horn and cat-like ears.]

What do you make of all of this?

Andrew Blur | Summer Sons | Cerberus

[hauntcursed]

[ooc: I'll also match prose if you prefer! I'm good with that or this, either format is a-okay <3]

I. Engine Troubles - The Honking

[Andrew had been looking forward to getting out of the carnival for what felt like months instead of days--weeks?--and for a little while, he was able to breath easy. The carnival hadn't been all bad though; he had more than a few fond memories that he wouldn't trade for the world.

The horn in his car starting to act up was not something he was fond of, though. He didn't know what was causing it, or how to stop it, and his immediate reaction of staring intently, offended, at the steering wheel only made it continue blaring the horn all on its own.]

Jesus Christ, shut the fuck up.

[Nope, that didn't help either. So he opened the door--to which the horn honked--and got out of the car. Then he closed the door--to which the horn honked again--and stared at the Hellcat like staring would fix his problems. It did not. In fact, the horn just honked yet again.

Flipping the car off absolutely made it honk in retaliation, and that was the point where Andrew turned on his heel and... he didn't actually know where he was going to go. He just needed to walk away from the car for a bit, and maybe it wouldn't be so horn happy when he returned to it.]

II. Farm Gazing - baleful howl get

[The farm houses reminded him a little of the sort of house he'd grown up in, though of course he'd never been on an actual farm. It seemed safer inside, too, easier to avoid the angry animals that prowled around outside. All of the animals he'd ever seen in this place seemed angry, and that was a little disappointing.

Andrew poked around in the house he'd ducked into, looking for anything that caught his eye, not just food stuffs. He'd even remembered to bring his knife with him this time, in a sheath clipped to his belt. His less-than-stellar adventures in the carnival's fighting arenas had led to him making an effort to remember the one weapon he possessed. His claws were one thing, but he didn't like having to rely on them, so the knife would be better. He hoped.

A lot of things in the house seemed like they'd had plenty of time to decay, but there were still bits and pieces here and there that were salvageable. He'd snagged a fabric sack of some kind earlier on in the house, and every time he came across something that caught his interest, he shoved it into said sack. So far he had a few bits of clothing, spares in case something happened to what he usually wore, some odds and ends, and a few cans of food.

The cans rattled against each other as he walked, but something in the room ahead of him, on the second floor, rattled even louder. He froze for a moment, eyeing the closed door, then approached it. He nudged the door open slowly, but the moment it was open wide enough, the crows in the room burst into a chaos of fluttering wings, some of them going back out the broken window, others darting towards Andrew.

With a startled yelp, he backpedaled, dropping his sack of plundered goods to the floor. He smacked one crow away, knocking it off kilter enough that it careened down the hall past him. The others squawked, aggressively fluttering his way. Ducking, he covered his head and took a breath with the intention of swearing, but instead of words, he ended up howling. Just a bit, a little, at first, until it startled him into a cough. But then he did it again, leaning into the instinct for it, and the howl seemed to be effective in making the crows scatter, scrambling wildly for the broken windows.

Left with only some scratches and a racing heartbeat, Andrew leaned back against the stairs railing and slid down to the floor for a moment, to catch his breath and try to parse what the hell had just happened.]

III. Scarecrows - cw: gore, wounds

[He hadn't meant to make eye contact with one of the scarecrows in the fields, but he couldn't help it. The fact they were a threat hadn't occurred to him at the moment he'd been curious about their glow. But once he'd looked, that seemed to be all it took.

He blinked, saw himself as a Husk, frozen and angry and twisted, and jerked back, nearly tripping over his own two feet. Shaking his head and blinking, he turned away from the scarecrow and picked his way determinedly through the field to where vegetables were growing. He had the feeling he was being watched, but every glance around told him there wasn't a visible thread nearby. Until there was.

It happened when he blinked again, but this time what he saw didn't disappear with another blink. It was Eddie's ghost, shadowed and smokey around the edges, but him all the same, tall and more human shaped than not, hair curly and eyes dead voids. Both of his arms bore long wounds, gore dripping down his skin. His voice was a whisper on the breeze that slid by Andrew's ear, barely audible: your fault.

Andrew flinched like he'd been hit, and then the figure was gone.]

It's not real, I'm awake. It's not real.

[He kept repeating that to himself, voice low, but it didn't stop the thing that couldn't be Eddie's revenant from reappearing. It reached for him, and he took a step back, and then another.

The whisper came again. Your fault.]

IV. Wildcard

[Come at me with another idea!]

I--this is incredibly dumb

[propatriamori]

Edward is dozing in the backseat of the Hellcat when it starts honking, which jolts him awake. At first, he's on high alert, afraid that something terrible has happened. But then Andrew swears at the car, the car honks back, and Edward sinks back down with a quiet groan.

He listens as Andrew and the car exchange ideas, then feels Andrew get out and slam the door. The car honks again, which really feels like it's gotten the last word, and Edward will be giving Andrew so much shit about that later. He lost an argument to a car.

But now that it's just the two of them--Edward and the Hellcat--he sits up and reaches his hands over the driver's headrest to gently stroke the steering wheel. "What's wrong? Are you upset that you got turned into a cage for a month?"

The car doesn't say anything--it can't, it's a car--but it doesn't honk either. The steering wheel shifts minutely under Edward's hands.

"Was that happy honking? Are you glad you're not alone anymore?" Edward feels very silly, but a bit less so when the car honks again, which feels like a response. "My motorcycle is like this right now too. I think it's sad that I can't ride it. It hasn't been bothering you, has it?"

The car's engine makes a soft vrooooooming noise.

"All right, I'll talk to it. It's not your fault I can't ride it right now, and you're being very kind by letting me ride in you."

Andrew, please come back before Edward ends up bonding with your car and you become a third wheel.

Cloud Strife | Final Fantasy VII | Cerberus | CW: Mention of unethical science

[cloudsenior]

[Break Out]
[Well, he had certainly made a mess.]

[He had rode Sephiroth around the tent, holding on for dear life as the chimera creature the other man had turned into as he stomped around, setting everything that wasn't moving in a panic on fire. It had spread quickly, uncomfortably so, to the point that the inside of the tent was a raging inferno, and he was stuck in the middle of it.]

[Oops.]

[For a moment, he wasn't sure what to do, until he suddenly saw the Convoy reforming itself, the cluster of cages around it turning back into vehicles. With a determined noise, he pushed himself up so he was standing on Sephiroth's back, before leaping from his back, landing in a crouch next to his bike.]

[Just as he was about to jump astride, something started making the flames twist, and it took him a moment to realize that it was the wind itself, weaponized against the fiery tent. Small burst of flame poofed out from the fabric, and Cloud had to jump back as some kind of rock nearly landed on him. The world around him suddenly twisted, like someone had literally taken the fabric of reality and wrung it out like an old cloth. He felt... strange as the world settled itself properly again, but he forced himself forward, to his bike and jumping astride, sword in hand.]

[He didn't know his eyes had changed.]

[Wheels spinning in the dirt, Cloud urged the bike toward where the flames were the thinnest, before sharply turning the bike. He raised the Buster Sword, swinging it in the air, before bringing it down with such force it rend the very air, cutting a clear path through the flames.]

[Cloud looked back to the cluster of vehicles, hoping the others had managed to get back to them.]

C'mon! This way!

[Symphony in BLAAAAAAT]
[Cloud liked riding motorcycles. He was pleased as punch when he found that his vehicle in this world was something like the Hardy Daytona he had driven out of the Shinra building when they made their great escape out of Midgar.]

[Right now, though, he wanted to drive the thing into the nearest gorge.]

[Apparently it had decided it wanted to be heard, because the horn wouldn't stop sounding. It was blatting out to the tune he would catch the kids at Bill's chocobo ranch humming when they didn't realize he was there, as loudly as the horn could possibly get.]

[He had stopped for a moment, dug around in the bike to try and find a way to get it to stop. For a moment, it did, and he was able to hop back on and catch up with the others. Once he caught up again, the horn started blaring the same song again.]

[He glared at it, before smacking the control box that housed the horn mechanics, as if that would help.]

[ⱤɆɄ₦łØ₦]
[Once the convoy stopped in the farmlands, Cloud let out a relieved breath. This was a much nicer place to stop for awhile, and he happily swung himself off the bike, ready to take some time to tune it up while they were stopped and--]

[The moment he set foot on the ground, there was a pulse in his head, like something had just been pǝuɹnʇǝɹ to him. He swayed unsteadily on his feet, the pulse shooting through his entire body, making everything hurt, as... as...]

[Ạ̴̸̧̛͈̳̫̖̖̻̘̭͛̓̆͐̄ͮ̎̋̆̉͋̋ͯ͘͘ṡ̷̢̼̥͉̙͛ ţ̴̶̛͉̼̫̭̯̬̼ͫ͆͑ͫ͂͛͒͐̿ͦ̉ͫͦͤ̿ͧ͢͢͠h̶̯͚͇̹͛̕͝e̶̩̘̲̤͕͗̃̑ͣ̍̓ͥ͡ŗ̧̢͕͇̖̳̞̳̱̘̼͚̤̱̞̹͖̬ͭ̎̏͌͂ͧͮͥ̑̔͆̔̌̿͑ͥ̎ͭ́̀ͧ̐͢͟͝ͅe̢̞̲̟͕͚̮̮ͪ̐̾̍̎͌͊ͫ͑̚̚͝͡ͅ_̞̘͒̇ w̶̢̢̲̣̲̩̣͚̤ͮ͛̎̋͗ͥͨ́ͫ͂̓_̡̡̼̣̙̺̳̳ͫͨͩͬ̃͊͋ͧ̈́ͬa̩͖̭̞̲̺͍ͫ̆́̔͌̓̾ͦ̈́ͨ͊̎͡s̶̡̛͈̭͎̎̾̍̉̒̋͠ green... a̷̹̰̞͙̲͓̻͈̹̥͈̠̹̺̺̓̌̀̏̒͗͊̂̏̍̋l̸̶̨̘̦̮͍͙̣͍̞͉̼̫̦̝͙ͮ̒͗ͣ̐̾ͮ͂͆̇̀̀ͣ̔̀̑ͣ̾̀́̐̑ͦͪ͢͜͠w̶̡͙̝̣̤̯̭̥͒̏̉̈͒͒̎̈́͗͘͞_̮̰̲̗͕̊ẵ͈̝̣̞͚͉́̋ͨ̿͝y̵̛̰̩̜͉͈̻̫̲͙ͯ̀͂͋̍̀̑͆͋̇͌̇̄̌̓̐ͯ̑͟͝s̨̭͈̘̦̍̌͑͟ sͧͤ_̪̰̩͉͍̝̰̖͎̼͖̻̈̊̊̀͐̐͛ͨ͐̅́̑͒̀̓ͣ̆͌̾̃̉͜͜͡͠ͅǫ̵̛͖̞̩̝ͬͪͩ́̚͜ m̹͓͍ͯ̇ư̧͇̦̞̜̥̙̹̯͔̺͛͋̈̿̓͛̒͝c̶̷̛͙̮̹͙̪͉͚͓̜̜̠͍̠̪̍̑̇̑͗̄̂̀ͦ̍̾͗̀̓́́ͯ̉͑ͬ͆̉͢͝h̢̨̛̭̰̟͕̼̫̞̣͈͇ͯͦ̓̓ͥ́ͧ̈́͒̽̌̏͊͊ͬ́͢͝͝ͅ green...]

[Å̫̱͕͙̻̯͋͐̅̏͋͡s̛̼͇͉̯̙ͤ̓̎ͯ͂̀́ͯ̇ͩ t̵̢̜͔̖̰̠ͨ̅ͥ̏̀̆̐͗̈́͂͆̒ͣ͠h̨̳̱͍͚̝̝̼͎͊̏̏ͨ̚_̴͛̀͡e͖̿ͪ͂͞r̵̵͍̗̠̥̹͈͇͙͎ͩ̏͌ͥ͊̎̽̐ͩ̋̍̒̾͊̒ͪ͟͝͞e̘̣̪̘̺ͤ͋_̸̶̸̦̺̖̳̖̝̯̊̐ͬ̾ͭ̑́̇̓̚̕͢͠͝_͎̭͙̝̐ͫ̆̓͜_́ w̜͙̋̽̐̓a̹̿͢s̴_̴̸̴̨͈͇̰̭̙͚͇̯̹̮́̿̈́̌̏̃ͭ̽ͨͫͨ͟͞ s̶̴̥̗͔͔̠͋̀ͩ͌̃͂_̀ǫ̴̡̠͈͔̬̭͖̜͚̼̞͙͎̻͕̪̻̲̥̍ͦ̆ͮͥͬ̀ͅ_̙̯̺̲̯̦́̒ͮ͆̂͋ͩ̕͞m̵̡̩̜̙̹̬̹͍̲̲͍͚̱͕̰̹̞͂̑ͫ̊̂͋̒̅̿͒̊̇ͥͪ̕̚͠e̡̧̧̨̤̝̯̯͚̥̻̟̼̘̯͖̭͓̩͈̘͎̦̋ͭ̀̎ͣͭ́͆͊̈̓ͮ̾͘̕̚͜͟͢͠t̶͓̱̔̍͌̇_̜̼̮ͣͥ̀͒͢_̰̹̩̍̒̋̒̓ͫ́h̷̴̷̢͍̯̝̝̲̠̗̤̦͕̬͉̭̮̻͖ͤ̿͐̌́̔ͧ́̄͛̍̔̉̔̈ͪͣ̔͜͞i̶̴̷̭͔͔͉͉͇̩̼̇̈́̏̌ͫ̔̐ͮ͊̌́͜͡n̖̙͙ͯ͑̌ͣ̓ͦ͑͆̓͊͢͠ǵ̴̨̲̟̲͎̬̗̩̽̓ͦ͐̏͊̿ͣ͒̋́̾ͬ͂͗̕͘͠͞͝ cold to his back...]

[A͚̖̪̤̤̲̱̾͑͋ͫ͜͝s͇̀́͠ h̡̠͈͋ͪ̑ͮ͘̕͢ę̵̨̠̹̩̺̙̊͌̎ͪ͆́_̬̊ w̴̛̛̻͓̖̺͊ͨ͋͆ͭ̍̚͜_̻̾̑ͭ̄͘a̴̗̳͈̯̰̘ͫ̿͗̊̊ͥ̎ͩ̓̅̿͝s̵̨̡͓̱̺ͦͫ̿̃ͥ͘ͅ_̵̨̠̱̯̤͇̱̣̺͓͉̮͙ͤ͐ͥ̾͂̊ͩ̈́̓͘͟͡ left open...]

[A̧̨̙̞̲̟̣̹͖̝̹̯̼̠̘̦ͫ͑̈̃̅ͫͨ͆̐͗͛̒̚͘͞͠ṣ̴̨̭̘͕̩̫͖̳̤̲̋̃̔̌͛ t̷̸̡̢̛̛̛͕̭̠͈̜͈̮͖̗͈̘̱̟͗ͫ͛́̽ͬ͗̂̀ͯ̌ͨ͆ͧ̂̍̑ͤ͜͢h̻̹̗̩͒ͨ̇̾͆̿̌͠e͠͞͝r͈̤̻̫̞̙̞͎̪̜̖̳̳̻ͮ͂̿̀̇͒̉͊̑͑͂͋ͣ̀ͣ̔̑͛̿͐ͫ͘̚̚͟ȩ̵̵̸̣̞̳͓̹͚̯̇̾̀̔͒͗ͭͦ͒͌̃ͫͪ̕̚͡ w̷̨̥͙̤̫̱̮̯͙͚̠̩̳ͩ̂̒ͤ͑̾͛̎̆͡ȃ̢̝̻͚̼̪̙͓͇̻̙̠̳͎͎͎ͥ̔͊̄̅̽ͣ̂ͮͣ̍̕͟͠s͙̝̅ͩ͆̌ͪͨͬ̕ someone leaning ọ̆̓̀v̨̧̲̔̊̀ͦ́̾ͤ͢͝_ͨ̀͂͋͟e̷̛̛͔͍̮̬͗̊̇ͧ͟͠_̠̺̃r̵̢͉̯̘̣̺̬̓̓͑̋́ͯ̈̀ͯ̽̄ͯ̕͝ h͈̑i̴̢̨̯̖̬̭͉̫̬͙̦̘̓̐̎̅͒͐́ͭ̊ͯ͂̎̔͜͟ͅm̴͚̥̩͔̐ͤ̀̀͟,̷̢̻̣̱ͭͪ_̯̹̒ͭͧ_̶̷̦̞̞̲̤̟̥͈̖̯̭̻̟ͨ̔͑̔̒͐͑̐̑͋̇ͪ̅̔̉̕͠͡ sneering...]

...c̦͔̜͕ͮ͛ͩ̀ͪ̊͘͝͞e̼͎̲̮͂ͦ̇͌̇͢͝l̴̵̳̘̩̼̲̈̏ͩ̐̑̐ͨ́̒̃ͬ͗͘͜l̩͋̆̓͡u̴̲̦̪̣̦͔̥̥̟̫̱̯̙̣̬̱͕͉̠ͣ̀̆ͮ̌̂̀͂ͮ̑͂̇̋͊̈̎͑͘͘͜͜͠͠l͎̙̎͗͊ͥ̾ą̵̻̤̦̱͇̰̙̺͉͙̃͋̃̑ͭ̍̀̕͟͜͠͝_̛̜̻͎̝̬̃̅͒̌r̶̶̢̢̨̨̟̼͇̤͈̟͇̬̪̭̦̠̗̥̰͋͂̋̋͊̓ͭͭ̀ͦ̅̾ͯ̕̕͝ fusion successful... r̸̷͙̳̀̑̏́͜e͌m̶̴̵̳͙͖̲͔̮̩̰͈̘̙̯̯̹͇̟̌̇̆̔͋̿ͣ͑͆͛ͧͭͦͨͣ̏̾͌ͣͬͥ̕͢͟͠͞a̴̢̗͛̂̔ͭ͛͌̿̅͆ͥ͊ͅͅr̵̡͍ͣͩ̆̓ͨ̈́̚͝k̨̙̰̹̩͎̹͕̻ͧ̒ͩ̎ͣ̒̂͝͠͠a̷̴̦̬̦̼ͨ̈́͊̎ͭ̌̽ͣ̋̿ͬ͘̕͠͠ͅb̢̠͚̹͍̣͕͓͕͕̦̻̥̞̠̬͍̼̞͒ͬ̎ͥ͂̌͑ͫͪͬ̾̍̔̉̈̚̕̚͟͡͝ļ̴̸̧̛̛̛̛̜̪͎̲̘͕͇̰̼͖̗̦͖̘̰̮͗ͩͨ̀̄͛͗ͯ̓̋͗͗̅͒ͪ̃̒̈́̕͜ͅͅe̢̛̤͔̝͙͛̀ͩ͊͐̅ͮͦ̾_̗̹̳̳̀̒͗̈́̏̌̀̕͜.̸̡̛̱̥̱̞̘̂̌̅ͩ̅̏̒͜.̸̴̸̷̴̴̢̡̢̯̼̯̝͓͉̼͙̟̺̱̯͚ͧͧͥ̋͛̋͗ͭ͒̋̓̉̉͆͛̚͘͡._̷̴̡̞͍͍͕͈̜͐ͯ̋̐̾́͟ ņ̱̃͆̈_̧̡̹̳̺̦̗͖͖̩̠͚̤̲̪̣ͬ̏̽̆͑ͩ̀ͪ͛ͬ̓ͮͥ̾ͬͮ͛͢͝͡ͅo̗͑ͯ c̵̵̨̱͙̦̜̯̰͇̦̤̣͕͔̘̟͉̥̭̾ͩ͛ͨ̒͌ͧͣͧͩͬ́̽ͭͤ̈́͋̒̄̚͢_̈́_̪ͧ̍h̞̥̮̤̮͕̍́̆_̨̛͉̯̼̳̥͉̯͎̑͌̃͊̈́̓̊̏̾ͬ͛͝ͅa̶̖̟_̗̳͉̆̾̓n̵̳̣̯̽̍ͣ͠_̨̝͕̇̀̾̽͞g̵̨̧͖̼̰̲̯̘̪͓̗̪̳̞̼̦̪ͭ̒̅̓̌̓̀ͤ͑ͩ̒̔ͪ̌͛̒ͮͧ̓̆̕͟͞͝ͅ_̿e̸̵̙̣͓͚͙̅ͣͦ͂̈͊ͬ̒̔͋ͫ̍͠͡͠ş̴̜̬̱̮̟͓̦͍̱͕̹̖̱̀ͣ̈́͆͌̇̄ͤͅ.̧͉̦̦̭̟̫̤͕̙̏̽͂̅ͧͥͩ̇ͮ̏͝͠ͅ.̴̭̠̲̦ͮͭ͗ͩ̉͒̀̐ͭ̀ͩ̕͜.͢

B̷̶̴̵̢̯͔̥̭̰̻̺̭̤̹̭̘̤͖͇̗̠͗ͮ̏̒ͪ̽͋̇̊͂́͊͐͛̏ͬͪ͢͢͡͝͠ͅa̧̭̱ͭh̶̢̢͍̱͈̫̳̥͍̞͖̜̱̙̩̖̥͇̏̽ͩ͊͌ͥ̿̒ͬ͐͑̉ͧͬ͊͌͑̇͗͒ͨ̏͜͟͜͞͡!̷̲͍̫͔̯ͫͨ̓ͪ́ͧ̚͞ͅ Subject C is j̷̷̶̡̡̖͎̜͎̘̩͕̖͕̬̯͛̏̀͂̅ͨ͂̃ͯ͒̄̈́̑̇̀̃̇ͧͥͥ̄̓ͦ̚̚̕͡͞͝ṵ̅ͤ_̢̜͙̣s̷̡̨̡̛͍͖̰̲̼͉͖̟̟͓̼̥̣ͨ̐͊ͥ̐́͐͋̀̅͒͌̋̅̓ͥ͘͘͟͡ţ̢̛̲̘̗̀̂ͨͨ͑͗̈̈́̉͌ͤ̑̈́͜͟ a̵̸̷̶̧̛̰̰͎͈̠̭͕̠̘̪̮͕͖̱̤̗͔̩̯͍̬̰ͯͫ͛̂̋ͮ̇̀ͦͥ̅́ͩ̀̚͜͝͠s̢͓ ư̝̭̝̟͓̹̺͙̹̓͛͌̋ͯͩͩ̌̾̒ͥ͐̽̋͘_̨̘̬̻͚̼̾̾͟s̷̢̞̱̖̭̜͓̺̪̠̬̥̘͚͗̀̇̂ͦͩ̏ͤ̃̓̒̌̒̀͆̀̈́͛̆̓ͮ͜͡͝͠ͅé̴̖͔̱̘̣̹ͧͪ͒̌̔́ͤ̿͒ͫ̅̌ͣ͑ͯ͑̉̓͝͠l̷̨̛̹̣͓̯̝̥͇͎̗͔͖͕̏̐̑͂̓̇̎̿̓̌̓̂̀̉̔̀ͫ͗̀ͩ̅͋ͦ͢͢ȩ̷̢̮̠̦̩̅͗̑ͪş̷̥̜͙̟͓̫̫̓̃̒̀̃͛͋͢͡͠͝͡ș̷̷̸̢̧̹̣͖̙̗͓̰̮̟̠̳̝̐ͪ͒ͪ͆̒ͦͥͬͥ̈́̏̃̎ͮͮ̌͌͋͢͢͠.̱̭̫̈́͐̑͞_̘̭̠̺ͨͨ̋́͝͠͡ P̴̳̬̋̎̓͆́_̥_̢͖̀̕ủ̸̵̧̡̨̗̱̟͎̳̠͉̞̟̞̼͎́͐̉ͬͭ͆̌̒̈́ͪͨ͘͞͡͠t̡͓̺̫͓̭̠̳̝̙͙̅̑̐ͬ̏ͪ̾̅͑̂̈́̔̀̒̓͡͞ it in the tank; p̦e̺͌̓ͦ̇̃̃ͫr̄ͯ_̨̧̝̪̠̗̰͎̀ͪͯ̂͗̒͑͊ͯ̃̚ͅh̵͖̜͈͓̦̯͈͚̩͛̒̂́̇ͩ͊̑ͩ͝͡͝͞ą̶̳͉̟̻̞͍̿̒ͪ̓̒̈́_̸̷̡̝͎͍͚̮̙̹̩̤̦ͣͭ̊̀̄̍̀̓ͮͩ͘͢͟͢p̵͚̘̟̭̰̜̱͙̲̹̽͐͑ͤ͗̔̂ͫ̂̊̅͒ͨ̂̒̆̀̑͘͜͢͞s̴̴̫̞̯̟̮̱͔̬̦̲ͮ̌ͫ̽ͩͨ̉́͐̚͢ͅ_̮̤̪ͅ_̷̷̯̘̺ͣ̀͌ͤͪ͆͋͒͛͠͞ I̛͙̝͕̪̫ͣ͑̓ͯͣ́ͥ̈́'̢̨̨̻̟͉͇̙̯̠̫̮̹̙̻̈̈́͒̍͒ͩ̃ͬ͆̿ͧ́ͫ̓̋ͬͯ̋̕ͅl̷̶̴͉͉̟̰̖̭̳͇̱̩͈͚͉̀̅ͯ̇̈́̌ͪ͐̃ͦ̒̾̚͘l̢̨̗̳̮̥ͧ̇̉͟_̸̴̧̢̛͔̜̰̣̪̯͎̠͔ͭ̓ͩͭ̇̎̀ͭ m̸̴̡̨̨̥̤̝̥͖̻̞̰͉̯̠̫̜̯̩̑ͫ̽̀́ͩ̈́ͭ͐̉͗̒̔̑͒͛ͨ̕̕͜͝͡a̶̸̶̧̺̘̲̲͇͖̙̱̜̭̘̬͔̙̗͖̎ͩͪ͋̐ͬ͋̐̊̃͑̎͛ͩ̆ͦ̅ͬͤ̆̚k̵̹̹̩̪̟̗̔̏̇͗͊͊ͩ͆͟è̷̟̖̬̝̳͎̑ͮͯ̊ͬ̊ u̱̹̰͇̘͍̦̤͍͉̼͓̰̓ͯ̇̔͛̐ͨ͒͋̆̀̃ͧ̿ͤ̚͘͢͠_̵̬͕̈̓͆̈̅̔́̚͢s̨̙͓̮̖̺̰̱̞̲̼̭͇̝̭̱̦͍̘͍͕̘̔͒͌̊̿̏ͧ̆ͨͤͫ̏̾̌͘͢͝ͅe̷̷̶̡͔̗̗̯͖͈͕͓͈̫̫͔ͥ̆̆̾̃͋ͭ̈̐ͪͤ̎̾̕͟ o̰̮̻ͣͯ̆̓͆́̍ͫ̄͊f̖̙̯͍̦͆ͪ̆͊ ĩ̡̳̮̞͇̘̀ͬ̾̊ͮ̕ͅ_̽̋̔͐t̶̴̶̵̨̡͔͎̦̘̭̗̣̉̑ͯ̿̓̓̀ͤͬ̌̿̓ͦ͐͂̌ͩ̕̕͝ some other time.

[Cloud swayed unsteadily on his feet, on the verge of collapse.]

[The Man in Black]
[Cloud had volunteered to be one of the ones to go around collecting food to replace the junk food left over from the carnival. He hadn't thought much about it -- it was just some crops that needed harvesting, that was all -- and he went about his work with a basket he managed to purloin from somewhere in the convoy. He didn't pay much attention to the creepy scarecrows, since they weren't moving and didn't seem to mean him any harm.]

[Or so he thought.]

[It was just out of the corner of his eye at first, a glimpse of black and silver that had Cloud's head snapping toward it. There was never anything there when he looked, no matter how many times it happened. He let out a huff after the last time, mouth scrunched up in annoyance, before he called out to the open air:]

Sephiroth, you're not funny!

[He turned back toward gathering crops... only to find himself staring at a bare chest crossed with the leather straps of an armor harness. His eyes went wide as he looked up, and... he didn't know how he didn't notice the difference before. The Sephiroth that came before Nibelheim was softer, more rounded, with kind eyes and an almost gentle demeanor despite all the carnage he could cause. The one from after... the Sephiroth he knew that was standing before him now was all angles, with sharp eyes and a cruel sneer perpetually affixed to his face.]

[And Cloud? Cloud was too scared that his Sephiroth had ended up here to even move.]

[Cluck Cluck, Bitch]
[It's another typical day on the farmlands the convoy ended up at, but something... isn't quite right. Like there's just the feeling in the air and something is about to go wrong. And it certainly does, in the late morning, when one word resounds loudly in the air.]

SHIT!!!

[If you're lucky, you'll be far enough away to witness the hilarity of a certain former SOLDIER First Class running like his butt was on fire, using the massive sword on his back as a shield, as an entire flock of pissed off chickens fly after him, taking pot shots at his back in utter rage.]

[If you're not so lucky, you're likely to be caught up in the swarm. Better start running too, or there's going to be a lot of pecking in your future.]

[Wild Card]
[[Feel free to post your own prompt with Cloud! As always, I can be reached by PMing this journal or by plurk at SkylaDoragono.

reunion

[soldiernoclass]

[ Zack's already got both feet on the ground, grateful to have a break from the day's ride - but also pretty grateful for the excuse to put some space between himself and his suddenly very clingy chocobo.

Maybe it's a blessing in disguise, though, because that haste to move along brings him right around to where Cloud's dismounting his bike - and nearly collapsing to the ground a couple of seconds after he does. It's second nature to him, by now, to rush forward to try and keep Cloud on his feet, reaching for his shoulder. ]

Hey! Hey, you all right?

[ No feels like the obvious answer, pretty plainly evident. Zack's genuinely starting to worry, here. ]

Vincent Valentine | Final Fantasy VII OG | Vampire

[coffinturk]

I. eScape

As the circus collapses, fires roaring and monsters fleeing and attacking, a familiar red cloak is seen weaving around the calamities. Occasionally a gunshot is heard, timely taking down of a monster or a rough call of "This way!" over the wails and ominous rumble of thunder.

Or making a more prominent appearance to tear or shoot away bindings to release those still trapped. He spent his own freedom learning the layout of the circus and helping to establish a gathering point to regroup.

And there, at least a limited amount of food and water stores that will help replace the dubious piles of carnival foods which seem to have completely replaced the Drifters' food supply in the Convoy trailers.


He might also step in to help reinforce someone struggling with the monsters that are looking for food themselves, in a flight or fight stampede from the carnival grounds, it's no surprise there's a danger to repel before everyone's in the clear.


II. Top Cow--- er... Gear... Cars?

At some point during their stay on the farm, several of the Drifters' vehicles collect together and drive out into a pasture. In pairs or clusters, the various shapes and sizes of Fast, Tough, Spacious and all others between; they peacefully trundle this way and that, looking like nothing more than grazing cattle.

The question is whether or not they're truly doing so. Wheels naturally flatten grass and treads, weight and unique features may cut through the grass itself. So is it simply getting churned and crushed or has the pasture been... clipped?

One might wonder this. They might also wonder if the vehicles have suddenly developed the traits of ruminants, whether the natural results of such processing would inevitably happen.

On the other hand, methane makes things go vroom...

Eventually, the vehicles need to be brought home fetched, but they're not going to make it easy. Their glitches might be making them 'think' like a herd of bovine or horses, but they'll be skittish.

Vincent is perched in a crouch on the top of a pasture fence, his eyes narrowed with intense focus. Somewhere in a pack, Vincent's own vehicle glides with stately grace. Somehow, it seems hyper aware; perhaps the occasional stops and stillness indicate that if it had a head, it would occasionally be raising it, ears swiveling.

It'll be a tricky one to cut from the herd.

III. Cluck Cluck Boom (Gunshop)

What amounts to a chicken calmly nests on top of a crate of ammunition behind the counterspace Vincent uses to host his services for all things firearms. Anyone who has had the misfortune of getting on the wrong side of the local poultry would recognize the cucco for what it is.

Vincent... is not in the immediate area at first. The cucco clucks peacefully, eyes half-lidded. It's certainly during shop hours, but perhaps something has come up? It's probably not uncommon that the gunman might momentarily step out due to an emergency.


IV. The Greatest Fear Is The Monsters Within [ cw: body horror, monsters, murder, slasher-movie type horror ]

[ ooc: Instructions! Pick a monster, a, b, or c! A location in the farm areas, time of day and weather! Enjoy your horror movie roulette experience! ]

Within the scarecrow lay the visions of a man lost to the monsters, tearing through friends and loved ones, allies... nothing more than a mindless horror filled with grudge against all life that does not share its fate. The monsters slip and switch.... a hybrid of man and bipedal behemoth, a massive, stitched together humanoid with lighting sometimes arcing over its skin... a... person, perhaps. Broad of shoulders, tattered clothes and boots. Wearing a white mask and bearing a chainsaw in red mitted hands.

Headaches. Urges that weren't Revan born but familiar. They boil under the skin, under the watchful, accusing gazes of the fields' glowing-eyed guardians. Is it a monster? The scarecrows? Some mutated crop? Under normal circumstances, Vincent would calmly assess his surroundings and target the likely source. Retreat... but the internal turmoil doesn't allow for rational thought. Some might witness the man staggering through the fields where he might have been searching for moon shards or foraging for harvestable vegetables.

Unlike Vincent's usual grace of movement, there's often almost a rictus gait to his motions; whether in pain or lacking balance at any given time is a toss up and it can always be both. And the scream that can rip out of him. One that starts like a human in agony but ends like the guttural noise of something else.

Though that monster seems in no less agony. Let it not spot you. And... hope he's indeed out in the fields and not near a house when Vincent loses control while trapped in this cycle. For there are occasions when he's near a barn- it's outside!- or by one of the simple farm houses that are mostly intact.

What's that sound? Just the wind? The thunderstorms that roll through or the rip roaring of a chainsaw of all things springing to life...

a. Galian Beast

Purple fur, a red mane and horns. Those from certain worlds will no doubt recognize the similarity to a behemoth. Except this one seems to be bipedal, fast and only a little taller than Vincent normally is if it was to stand fully upright. People who have seen Vincent fighting in protracted battles may have seen this beast appear before and might even know it is Vincent. It's kind of hard to miss if you're in the right place at the right time. Except then there'd been something constrained and almost human. Then it had been easy to believe it was an ally and some part of the gunman was still in there; it had never attacked Drifters. Now, though? All bets are off. Also, a part of something that had been locked away since Vincent's arrival on Revan has been reawakened in this particular nightmare; there will be fire.

b. Death Gigas

A massive, hulking patchwork humanoid with gray skin, bandages, stitching and metal bolts that spark occasional electricity. Massive hands and feet and huge muscles, probably about eight feet at full height and looks like it could punch through stone. Or lift cars and throw them.

Probably both.

c. Hellmasker

Jason and Leatherface have an undead love child and developed a love for hockey and american football. That's it. That's the gimmick

A gangly looking humanoid with tied-back, greasy black hair and sporting a white hockey goalie's mask. There's probably something like american football shoulder pads under the jersey, he's got boots, goalie's mitts and a chainsaw. 10/10 no notes. Might be stopped by doors but not for long with that chainsaw.

V. Wildcard

[ Open to a lot of things. Vincent's monster rampages are going to be short but dangerous (though relatively underpowered for reasons) if left unchecked; Chaos won't appear at this time but have fun with any of the other three prompted above. Also open to other tags and ideas not covered above. ]

III

[soldiernoclass]

Zack has not run afoul of the local homicidal poultry, because he does not, generally, tend to have much ire for birds that aren't already big and mean enough to fight him one on one. So when he comes across a chicken(??) sitting atop that crate, apparently manning its own shop counter, he's more curious than wary.

"Hey, that's a whole lot of ammo for such a little guy. Then again, it is pretty dangerous out here..."

Jack Russell | Werewolf By Night | Yokai

[wereperrito]

I. Racing Back Home

Jack is not actually at the circus when the booming voice echoes across the valley and the big top catches on fire. He's out at the little base he and Valentine have been maintaining. He hears it, he sees the light in the distance, and he immediately tries to gather up the scraps of things he'd been collecting and bolt for the circus.

At least he can finally find his van, and shove things, and maybe people, into it. And then try to drive out of the mess, because oh boy that's a mess.

He's very very lucky he doesn't turn into a fox mid-drive, with all the tornadoes going on around him.


II. Clingy Cars

Then they're free, and they're driving through mostly-pleasant farmland, and Jack's van keeps locking him inside. And driving in circles without his input. And locking him inside. Jack is not fond of being locked up on a good day, and today might not be a good day, and he's tugging at his hair and cursing the camper out in Spanish while "safely" kept behind doors that refuse to open and windows that refuse to roll down so he can slither out, that way.


III. Scarecrows and Scavenging

Jack is all about scavenging food during the day, when his stupid van lets him out, and setting his traps at night for small game when they stop to rest. This does put him often under the eyes of the scarecrows. He does his best to ignore the the whispers and hisses and sound of clanking chains, but when an actual chain manifests for a moment, wrapped around his ankles, he fall flat on his face into the middle of a strawberry patch.

Ouch.


IV. Moon Warp

Jack is experimenting this moon warp. He's in fox form all evening leading up to it, bounding around the edge of one of the fields of corn, well out of sight of the convoy itself. And when the moon warp takes, the experiment goes the way he hopes: he's an actual wolf (with six tails), rather than the stupid wolf-man, and he takes off running through the stalks of corn searching for something to hunt.

Even the wolf-shaped werewolf isn't much of a match for the cuccos, though, and when he's not hunting something bigger, he might be found whirling in circles trying to catch and tear apart birds from the flock circling around him and pecking him.

He's going to be black, blue, and bloody in the morning. Ouch again.

iii

[purplexing]

Maybe it's the bird side of him that's had a particular aversion to the scarecrows, or maybe it's just the simple fact that the things look so creepy, but Donnie's kept his distance when he's been able to. It's easier when he's up in the air, although that's also been a difficult thing to monitor, trying not to be too enticed to go any higher, easy as it's been to lose himself, going with those feral urges.

He sees Jack when he falls, sharp eyes catching when those chains appear, which make no sense for anyone to have in a field, much less one with strawberries. The harpy-turtle spirals downwards.

"Jack!" he shouts, talons finally touching down to see about getting him untangled.