route666rp | FEBRUARY EVENT LOG

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FEBRUARY EVENT LOG

The Convoy begins a slow path through the forest, and a long road winding between the trees. The vegetation hangs thick overhead, with a perpetual state of dim light hanging over the surroundings. Sunlight and moonlight both have a hard time piercing the gloom. And alongside that is a sense of danger looming in the shadows.

01: DEPARTURE/MINGLE

Dawn arrives after a long and demanding night. As wane sunlight leaks through the forest, the forcefield flickers out. In its place, the Convoy hums to life. Engines thrum, breakfast appears in the dining car, and the speakers crackle with a pre-recorded, automated voice.

“The Convoy will depart in three hours. Please ready yourself for the trip. Secure your belongings, prepare your vehicle, remain as human as possible. End destination… Nirvana. Repeat, the Convoy will depart in three hours.”

The recording drones on a loop, before fading out in a crackle of static. Before departure there’s a few matters to attend to, some more pressing than others:
+Breakfast consists of bland porridge. Some might want better food, and with a decently stocked kitchen, one can make better.
+The showers have lost any hot water. Surely there’s some way to fix the heater or provide some hot water? Or otherwise grumble through a cold shower.
+There’s plant growth where the Husks have been felled. Flowering vines grow over the Convoy, and need to be pruned for departure. The foliage has an odd effect if directly touched, instilling wanderlust and curiosity. The affected feel compelled to wander… Or be curious about others!

02: HAUNTED GROVE

The trees grow into a tangle just a few paces off the road. They almost envelop the buildings, absorbing the structures until only the roofs are visible. The branches become more twisted, and almost arm-like when reaching out to you.

Vines hang like nooses from the trees. And a closer look shows moss ridden Husks draped in the branches. Still, those who ignore those ominous signs can find supplies growing and hanging from the branches; repair materials, and unnerving types of food like canned ham and frozen pizza.

And then… There’s the effect from staying in the shade of the trees for too long. There’s a lethargy that clings to you, even as it eases the changes wracking your body. Resting underneath the grove can heal a Drifter of one change, and leave them feeling soothed… But all of this is by design. The grove WANTS you to stay there and become a part of it, so that it can ensnare you with vines or absorb you into trees. It can restore Drifters, but if they stay there for too long they’re going to need some rescuing.

03: WRECK

There’s a collection of abandoned cars in the forest clearings. Some cars are better preserved than others, some even containing cargo, weapons, and ammo, with a possibility to scavenge equipment off them…

…If not for the traps, set around the wreckage in the form of steel jaw bear traps and snares. All of them are coated in something that leaves the vision blurry and sets hearts into overdrive. If exposed to too much of it, there’s suddenly a reason for that near panic; hallucinations of fears can easily flare up.

There’s also things prowling the wreckage on four metallic canine legs, with gleaming chrome teeth and red headlights for eyes. The guidance computers on nearby vehicles flash an alert as they draw close; identifying them as chromehounds, though these have seen better days. Dented, damaged, but still fierce enough. And still ready to pounce on anyone caught in the traps or drugged with fear toxin.

While the chromehounds can be dispatched, the fear toxin will have to run its course. Closer examination of the hounds and traps shows an insignia of a sword piercing the moon.

03-A: MONSTER NEST

Hostile beasts lurk in the woods. Many are cautious, nocturnal creatures that prefer to emerge at night, and hunt any Drifter who has strayed outside the reach of the Convoy forcefield.

A massive monster nest dwells in a crumbling, abandoned overpass in the middle of the forest. The Convoy does its best to give the area a wide berth, but it’s entirely possible Drifters might still stumble across it: particularly if some of the more annoying creatures like Great Jagras steal food and take it back to the den.

Many of the beasts make their dens in abandoned vehicles littering the overpass: Jagras and Slicemargl take up the better spots, while noxicaps and scavengers linger on the fringes. But the most territorial are the mutant bears, occupying the darker parts of the underpass.

04: SHRINE

The moon glows balefully overhead some nights. An eerie light glows across the sky, like a burning aurora that exacerbates any symptoms the Drifters have picked up this month. Sometimes the trees help to muffle this maddening light. But not always.

There is however a remedy that blocks out the light; dotted near the road or just off the forest paths are shrines carved from stone and wood. The aurora dims near these shrines, and offers breathing room. Small offerings dot the alters, and some are even medicines that can alleviate hallucinations, wanderlust, and the like.

But there’s a price for taking these offerings; the various candles dotting the shrines ignite, flames reaching for the intruder, and burn either a monster change, or a message into their skin. It’s equal odds which one a Drifter receives. The message fades in the span of the month, but offers cryptic words regarding the world, and can be logged in the Convoy database.

05: STASIS WARNING

Pockets of something… Wrong lurk on the road, or just off the path. Many of them are lined with Husks twisted into horrified expressions. Others are little more than a faint distortion and ripple in the air. But once a Drifter wanders into the pockets, the effects become all too clear.

The pockets are alarmingly still when stepped inside. This stillness tries to seep into anyone in the pocket, making them stiffen, their thoughts go sluggish and almost halt… But the Sigils on their skin dispel this before it can completely overtake a Drifter. Sigils disperse the field with explosive results; bursts of fire or electricity, surges of plant grown, rock explosions all burst as the field is dispelled.

The one warning for these pockets are strange symbols and the words ‘STASIS’ inscribed on rocks, trees, and signs around these pockets, warning about them. A couple crisscross the roads needed to take out of the forest. It seems that a Tough vehicle could easily wade in and survive the explosions of magic, while a Fast vehicle would be capable of outracing any trouble… While those on foot will need to hope for the best, or for fast healing.

06: RADIO HOUR

After several days of travel, and around nightfall the Convoy approaches a resting point ringed in Husks. It resembles a log cabin, with some unnerving traits; first, the trees near the cabin become more rigid and geometric, almost like pylons. Second is the large radio tower growing out of the cabin itself. Once the Convoy is in range, the radios, phones, and screens all crackle to life. Screens display a broadcasting logo, followed by an emergency signal drone. Astute Drifters can check the dates that pop up, and realize that this is an old recording.

“Attention, this is an emergency broadcast. Seek shelter immediately. A moon warp is imminent. Repeat, a Moon Warp is imminent. Impact: falling moon shards will cause destruction and distortions. Prepare by seeking cover inside shields. Those caught outside will be twisted. Seek shelter immediately.”

Outside the Husks pulse, and the broken moon shimmers. Several bright spots in the sky grow brighter… And larger, as shards of moon fall. The Convoy comes to a wrenching halt. A warning siren echoes, before the Convoy deploys its shield. Those inside are safe from the worst of the Warp, able to hide out in the Convoy. Nothing like a good time to bond with whoever you’ve been shut in with, right?

07: MONSTER HOUR

Those outside the Convoy will be in for a rougher time. The glow from the falling moon shards has a way of piercing into the brain and forcing a full transformation for as long as the Moon Warp lasts.

During the Warp, there’s plenty of trouble for Drifters. The Husks glow before bursting into a pack of violent, wolf-esque gryphons called Nargacuga, and a host of other beasts. These monsters favor scaling trees for dive attacks, or hauling Drifters up into the branches. But with their focus on the Drifters, the Nargacuga are easy prey for the chromehounds nearby, which pounce in a tangle and clash.

By dawn, the Warp has worn off. The Nargacuga are dead, while the chromehounds have been smashed. Transformed Drifters have two options in the aftermath; either they've burned off so much energy fighting they revert into an exhausted state. They will likely be suffering from disorientation and require rest, healing, and anchoring from others. Alternately, Drifters run wild ahead of the Convoy as something draws them north; they will have a chance to revert next month, in the Messages prompt!

07-A: MONSTER BRAWL

One particularly large and ferocious Nargacuga leads the pack of monsters… And seems to have a particular hatred for technology. He attacks the radio tower, doing his best to knock it down, and then strikes at the Convoy only to be deflected by the shields. Once he’s deflected, he vents his rage on the Chromehounds.

The radio picks up something from the lead Nargacuga each time he bleeds, and a patchy broadcast happens, with different fragments heard by different people:
1. “Serenith has ordered. I obey. Obliterate every trace of Wardens, cull their human flock. Justice for the packs they murdered.”
2. “Keep bleeding them until the moon Breaks, just like she ordered.”
3. “They gave me a place and a pack, where I could hunt.”
4. “Be ruthless. The Steel Wardens aren’t different, with the children they cull.”
5. “Hate… Loss… Blood. Always more blood.”

In its death throes the Nargacuga obliterates any remaining Husks, littering the area with quicksilver pools. Drifters must be careful around these pools, as contact with them will cause all pre-assigned monster traits next month to linger without special treatment.

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.

Radio Trees: A strange line of geometric trees leading towards the radio tower cabin. The closer a Drifter gets, the more they can hear faint music and old broadcasts regarding moon phases.

Hunting Grounds: An area of burnt out husks that have already burst open. There’s a few monster carcasses scattering the area, along with broken weapons and bullet casings. A symbol has been carved into the monsters, or a moon pierced by a sword.

Forest Flowers: A clearing that lacks the grasping trees from before, and instead is taken up by crystalline flowers. They give off a pleasant fragrance, and help to relax characters. Can be crushed into a medicine to help cure long lasting fear toxin effects.

Falling Trees: Drifters are advised to be careful of falling trees obstructing the road, and which may need to be hacked through. Granted, what’s knocking over the trees is another question entirely!

Lakeside: streams and rivers thread the forest, occasionally creating marshy areas. These rivers eventually feed into a massive lake that borders the radio tower cabin. The water is cloudy, and the bottom of the lake covered with the remains of destroyed chrome hounds: they’ve clearly been torn apart by the nargacuga prowling the area.

NAVIGATION

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Departure

The last shower she had was back in Haven before they got on the train, and that was days ago, and Yang isn't setting out on another trip without correcting that first.

She's seated on the dining car, enjoying what turned out to be an admittedly delicious pancake breakfast (maybe that's why her plate is so loaded up) when she address the people she's sitting with. "So three hours before we depart, I figure that's plenty of time to fix the water heater and let people have a chance to run through a hot shower before we go." She says. "Found some tools in the gas station yesterday, and the job'd go faster with an extra pair of hands. Any takers?" She waves a fork around. "Anyone at all?"

Wrecks (CW toxins, hallucinations, PTSD)
Once the Convoy gets proper going, Yang takes up a position in the front of the convoy...beyond that, even. As she'd discussed with Shadow, her Charger (affectionately dubbed "Wild Rider" by its new owner) is capable of outpacing the Convoy, so she takes advantage of that to scout the road ahead. The monsters they know about, but there are almost certainly other dangers out there waiting.

She does radio a message to the rest of the Convoy. "Hey, it's Yang. I'm about five klicks down the road...found a clearing with some wrecked cars lying around. Gonna pull over and poke around, see if there's anything useful. See you guys in a few."

When someone catches up and pulls over though, Yang is standing away from the cars, in a defensive fighting stance. A collapsed snare trap lies nearby. And Yang is visibly terrified. Her hands are shaking, and a nearby wreck is visibly smoking from an Ember Celica shot.

"It's a trap, stay back!" She tries to wave you away. "Just...stay back! He wants you to charge in!"

Whatever enemy Yang thinks is out there, there is definitely something moving among the wrecks...Chromehounds are beginning to circle.

Moon Warp: Monster Hour (CW transformation)

Yang had been investigating the strange looking radio tower cum cabin with some others when the radios all went off, warning about the incoming Moon Warp and shards falling to earth. She sees the shield deploy and realizes she'll never make it in time. Guess they're going to fight it out.

But the moon grows brighter and as it does, Yang feels herself getting...

Hungrier.

She's starving. The sudden pain causes her to fall forward, clutching her stomach. And then her hand starts to sprout claws...

When the change is over, the wolf monster with the golden fur, in the tatters of Yang's road leathers throws its head back and howls to the sky. Even her mechanical arm has changed; it's not sprouted fur, but it definitely looks more monstrous, and sporting some nasty-looking knife-like claws.

Yang's mind has largely shut off. Only the most primal of drives remain active. Kill. Feed. Kill. Feed. KILL. FEED.

The night is young and she is so hungry.

[Catch-all for monster attacks featuring Werewolf Yang. Her beastial mechanical arm trades the shotgun for claws.]

Edited 2025-02-07 23:53 (UTC)

[Serph had thought himself possibly immune to the changes presented by this land; he'd listened to the conversations over the radio and thought it strange that he had remained unchanged while others were finding themselves with new features. Maybe he had been spared because he already has his own transformation. Maybe it was because in a way, he'd already done this before.

But any notion of immunity was dispelled the moment the shards fell and something wrong overcame him. An itching in the centre of his forehead. A strange sense of something trying to push out from his back. His skin feeling like it is trying to crawl off him.

He's not far from Yang when he sees her double over in pain, sees her shift, uncontrolled, and knows what this is.

There's comfort then, in reaching for the transformation that has been with him ever since he awakened, his own cursed demon. With glowing lines spreading from the brand on his face, his form turns dark and amorphous for a brief moment before coalescing into his noticeably taller demon.

The hunger, as always, is more pressing when he's like this. But he is in control. For now, at least.

His next words come out as a guttural snarl.]

Yang. Do you hear me?

With the transformation complete, Yang has grown bigger too, bow-legged with long arms. Even her mechanical arm has extended to new proportions. What had been her hair is now a wild mane of fur than runs down her back.

She does hear Serph call to her, though when the wolf-monster she's become turns towards him in his demon form, there's no recognition in Yang's blood-red eyes. Drool trails from her jaw at the sight of all that fresh meat waiting, begging to be torn into with tooth and claw and devoured.

She lunges towards Serph with a roar, dropping down to all fours, attempting simply to knock him down and take that first filling bite.

If it weren't for Apollo telling Serph that killing others is what makes the next life worse, he wouldn't have thought twice about responding to violence with extreme prejudice, the blades hidden within his arms having gutted and dismembered so many others. But Yang is a new comrade and maybe things here worked differently. Maybe there's another way.

He can see the hunger in her eyes.

He still has his mind, though. So when she lunges, he sidesteps. With an inhuman roar of his own, he follows Yang's attack with his own attempt to pin her down.

"So you want to eat?" He shoves his left arm towards her drooling jaws, turning it so the side that isn't covered in thick carapace is exposed to her teeth. "Then eat."

Edited 2025-02-08 08:26 (UTC)

If Yang's higher brain functions were still working, if she wasn't being driven solely by the most primal of urges and instincts alone, she probably wouldn't have been so easy for Serph to trap, but his he manages to stop the werewolf dead, though she still snaps at him with her jaws, trying to find a way to close them around any part of Serph that she can. But her attention is drawn to his extended arm, to the exposed flesh, unprotected by demonic carapace. For a moment she can only stare as Serph instructs her to eat.

Then she lunges forward, gripping his arm tightly, painfully, in her hand and sinks her jaws into the flesh, ripping out that first bloody, satisfying chunk.

It hurts like all hell and even Serph can't stop a rumbling growl of pain from escaping past his sharpened teeth.

But he still lets Yang tear flesh from him, unflinching in his decision.

He recognises what he's doing is foolish, and he can hear he voice of Gale in the back of his mind admonishing him like he's one of the Tribe's rookies, but he doesn't want to lose another comrade to the hunger. Jinana and Lupa had been too powerful, too far gone for them to do anything but slay them. But Yang...

He hopes that a sacrifice of some flesh is enough to bring Yang back to herself, if even temporarily.

So he allows her to rip and tear into his offered arm, once, twice, and thrice, even though that will mangle it beyond what is easily fixable. But any more than that, he will raise his good arm to strike at her snapping jaw with a curled fist.

Yang takes the second bite, and the third, ripping away flesh from the proffered arm with a desperate relish. She barely has time to swallow the demon flesh before she goes in for each subsequent bite. The hunger abates...a little.

After the third bite, the werewolf stands there, swaying slightly in the night breeze, blood trickling down its jaws, like she's not sure what to do now. But even then, her grip on Serph's mangled arm remains like a vice.

It's a start. But the hunger isn't so easily filled, and in her current state, Yang isn't capable of willingly stepping back from a meal willingly offered. As she goes in for the fourth bite, Serph strikes her, catching her by surprise. The reaction is immediate. Yang whips back towards him, and with an angry roar attempts to toss him into the wall of the cabin, the rage settling back in.

Serph knew he'd messed up the moment the fury returns to Yang and he finds himself tossed, back slamming hard into the cabin's wall. But he's not about to stay still, immediately scrambling to his feet and moving so it's harder to be caught by a follow up attack, his shredded arm pouring blood.

Frustration has him snapping his sharp teeth; his demon doesn't want to hold back, he wants to sink his teeth into flesh like Yang had done to him, tear limbs from their sockets and lap up the blood that would cascade out.

But Yang is stronger than him like this -- could maybe give even Heat a run for his money -- and with the injury after his ill thought out attempt to slake her hunger and him determined not to kill, he can see no other option than to retreat for now.

The temperature rapidly dropping and the hissing that escapes his lips is the only warning Yang gets before ice starts to rapidly coalesce around her feet, aiming to trap her temporarily so he can make his escape.

Arcade has been up long enough that he's already cleaned up, hot water or no - he's used to going without, anyway, so it really didn't even strike him as odd. It also didn't occur to him that anyone else might see the lack of hot water (practically a miraculous commodity, where he's from) as anything more than par for the course.

"Mechanical expertise not strictly required?" he asks, a little surprise still coloring his expression as well as his tone. Both at the suggestion as well as himself, for answering it. Ordinarily, he'd keep his head down in a room full of strangers. But captive strangers, trapped on a potentially deadly road trip together? Maybe it's better that he try to get to know some of them. Be friendly. Not just keep to himself like some weirdo loner. Stuff like that.

"You really think you can fix it?"

"Nope! Just as long as you can follow directions and know your basic tools." Yang replies. Now that she has Arcade's interest, she lowers her fork and begins finishing the last of her meal. These pancakes are good and she woke up surprisingly hungry today. Fight must have been a better workout than she thought.

"A water heater? Sure. Assuming it's anything like the ones back home." Patch had a junior combat school, so it wasn't exactly the boonies, but even so, the Xiao Long household was still kind of on the edges. Usually it was easier just to fix appliances and things yourself if you could, especially if a repair-man was gonna have to hop a ferry over from Vale.

"Honestly, with any luck, a breaker just needs to be flipped and I won't need the help anyway, but on the off-chance it isn't, this way I don't have to go hunting for help after the breakfast crowd has already dispersed. You in?"

"I might be able to manage." Following directions, at least. The rest sort of depends on what she considers a basic toolset - though he's optimistic, considering nothing in that garage had really looked all that unfamiliar to him, either.

"Sure," he agrees, shrugging as he hooks an arm over the back of his chair, turning to get a better look at her. Like too many of the others around here, she seems awfully young. But that's no reason to doubt her capability on sight. Fixing things is a skill most pick up simply by necessity, where he's from. The only reason Arcade's not much for it, himself, is that there was always someone else around to take care of it. And, well, he was busy honing different skill sets, for the most part. Not having grown up in the sort of middle of nowhere place he lives (or lived, up to now) these days had plenty of advantages, as well as drawbacks.

"Count me in. It beats waiting around for this show to get on the road, anyway."

Levi wasn't really sure what to expect from the wrecks, but an attack wasn't it. At least not from a weapon. He catches the tail end of Yang's shot and rushes over towards her, stopping short as she speaks.

"A trap? What sort of trap?"

"I..." The fear is making Yang heart race, and while she normally feeds off that exhilaration, uses it to fight, now it just...paralyzes her. Makes her hyper-aware of all the sounds (made even worse by her more acute sense of hearing), the wind in the trees, the shifting of the wrecks...

"I...I think he's using the scrapheaps to hide!" Yang's voice is full of barely-contained terror. Every instinct is telling her to flee, and she hates that, but she won't listen.

If she runs, she knows he'll attack. He's waiting for her to run.

"He's got a sword. If he gets the drop on either of us, he'll—" Something, just out of the corner of Yang's eye, to the side of Levi, darts between two rusted out cars. She's certain she catches a glimpse of a bone-white mask, and red hair. Instinct, and terror cause her to react. The car is rocked by a series of explosions from Yang's gauntlet and arm, sending debris, and wrecked supplies flying, with Yang roaring as she unloads.

Gun arms are still new to him, so he flinches away from Yang's shots but turns his focus on where she was shooting at. With the monsters the other night and weird things in these forests he's got no doubt that there is some sort of threat there. He grips his blade tightly but doesn't move, not as long as she was still firing.

"Who? Where are they?"

Okay. She's getting used to this.

Well, okay, she's pretty sure you never really get used to being a zombie with a severed head, but she's at least figuring out how to navigate the disorientation of the whole head-not-attached thing. She's got her head tucked under one arm, her makeshift bone blade in the other hand, and honestly? She uses kicks often enough when she fights that it still works alright. She's fighting the monsters pretty effectively.

She stops short, though, when she sees the werewolf. That's not the sort of werewolf she's used to. Actually, it doesn't look like any of the monsters she's seen here.

...with the tattered clothing, the suspiciously familiar but slightly altered fake arm, and the fur color, it actually kinda looks like-

"... Yang?"

The gaze that the werewolf fixes her with is not friendly or familiar, or even freaked out by her new height adjustment. It mostly looks like it just spotted prey.

"God, today sucks!"

Old and decayed meat, but still meat. The hunger is so all-consuming that at this point, even Faith looks like a promising meal. Yang crouches down and launches herself forward, loping towards Faith on all fours, spittle trailing from her open jaws.

She'll feint, quickly, to the right before leaping, attempting to goad Faith into an opening the werewolf can exploit; a low, animal cunning, a hunter's cunning. But she attacks heedless of the strength Yang knows Faith possesses, or the bone-blade clutched in her other hand.

Damn.

And her without her bitchin' reflexes. The feint nearly catches her off-guard, but she dives to the ground to avoid the jump, turning slightly so she'll land on her side- and not plant her decapitated head into the dirt, because fuck her life.

There's a moment when she has the opportunity to counterattack the reckless leap with her makeshift weapon, but... nah. She can't do that. She doesn't know Yang like that, not enough to go all-out for her, but she knows werewolves can't really help it back home. Probably the same situation. And she does like Yang.

So she tosses the sword. Unfortunately, she's also lying in the dirt, and she just let her only chance at a counterattack pass her by. She at least manages to hop back up to her feet, but it's clumsy and slow, more than enough time for Yang to land and ready another shot. Damn, damn, and damn.

"Yang, c'mon, you gotta fight it!"

Hearing her name actually seems to break through the haze of hunger and rage. The werewolf blinks and for a moment her eyes look almost human again. Yang. That's...her. The werewolf blinks, stumbles a bit in some confusion. Fight...?

She is a fighter. But it's so hard to think, like she's half asleep and struggling to wake up. She's Yang, but...how did she get here? Why is she...?

Who is Yang?

The werewolf paws at her head. Why is this so hard?

Don't think. Don't need to think. Need to FEED.

The hands come down as her mind wills itself to shut off and there's nothing human in its eyes. The werewolf pounces, trying to knock Faith to the ground, pin her to the dirt, then rip and tear and claw and bite.

Shit, she should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

The incoming pounce is too fast for her to dodge, and she has no leverage to block it. She's already starting to go down by the time she considers another option- she curls up her legs and shoves against Yang's abdomen, redirecting her forward momentum and launching her back over her... well, where her head should be... toward the other side of her.

"Dammit, don't make me hurt you!"

She's already abandoned the blade, but maybe she can get back to it. Why'd she have to be so slow here? Why does her stupid head have to be cut off?

Yang might be able to roam ahead of the convoy in her speedy car, but Blake is stuck near the back. She tells herself it's strategic -- it's good to have a trained almost-Huntress watching the rear of the convoy! -- but mostly it's because her van is slow and rattly and just kind of lumbers along the road.

She catches Yang's radio call, and bids her good luck, resolving to pull over when she catches up. It takes... a while. (Sigh).

By the time she pulls over, her gaze immediately catches on Yang, fists up, ready for a fight. Blake hurries, unsheathing Gambol Shroud as she runs to meet her, sliding through wrecked cars and monster corpses. One of the wrecks is smoking, a trickle of grey filtering upward from Yang's weapon, and when Blake gets close enough--

Gods. Yang is terrified.

She puts herself shoulder to shoulder with Yang, shifting her weapon to gun form and holding it aimed at the spot Yang had shot at. There's dark shapes starting to prowl through the broken cars.

"Who does?" she asks urgently, ears pricked forward, every inch of her alert as she strains to see. "Did a person attack you?"

Oh no. Blake is the one person who can't be here. They aren't ready for this. And yet, still, her presence at Yang's back helps bring her focus, helps reign the sheer terror in, just a little. Enough to name her attacker.

"It...it was Adam. He's here, somewhere." He must have been the one who set the snare. Yang's still not sure how she managed not to get bisected when he tried to attack. But he was able to use the confusion to slink back into hiding.

She scans the wrecks, waiting for any sign of him to strike.

"Blake, we gotta get out of here. We're too exposed."

She thought she was over this. She thought she could handle it if Adam came after them again. What was the point of everything she went through, her retraining and all her dad's lessons if he still makes her this...this useless? What is wrong with her?!

The second she hears that name, everything in Blake goes still, cold and horrified.

She'd never thought-- gods, with the way there's three of them from Remnant here, it's obvious that anybody could get pulled into this world. She'd never stopped to consider that it might not be an ally, that it could be Cinder or Salem. Or Adam. She can hear Yang's hand shaking, the rattling of her gauntlet loud in the chill night air, and all she can think is--

Adam doesn't hide. He doesn't crouch in shadows waiting to ambush people. He attacks plainly, without stealth. She can't see him anywhere, why isn't he rushing them? He wouldn't be afraid of taking two people on at once.

Still, she doesn't lower her gun.

"Let's start backing up toward the road," she murmurs, and if her voice is shaking a little then at least she has it mostly under control. "We need to find Ruby." (Gods, if Adam's gone after her the same way he went after Yang-- Blake's not sure she could survive a second time.) "I've got eyes on the patch of cars to our left, you take the right."

[Of course Akihiko is outside the shields, standing guard and keeping an eye out for trouble or stragglers alike. When he sees Yang, he raises an arm to wave to her, trying to guide her towards the Convoy.]

“Hey! We’ve got a better chance if we face these things-“

[Together, is what he wants to say. Just like before… Except this is NOTHING like before, as Akihiko drops to his knees and the moonlight burns at his eyes and his skin.

He’s felt his ribs bruise and break, before. Been sliced up by shadowy talons, knocked about, even frozen and burned depending on his opponent… None of it measures up to what’s happening to him now. Because how is he supposed to fight, when its his own body turning and warping against him?

He gets a glimpse of Yang collapsing, twisting and knows that he’s a match. Claws bursting out of his fingertips, his muscles contorting and rearranging-

And his vision distorting, going red at the edges. Right as he sees something else moving through the trees. Something that pushes a thundering growl out of his throat, as his eyes narrow on the things intruding on HIS territory.]

Going out of the shields had been well-intentioned. Naoto had just wanted to help. No one had expected the changes. No one had. It wasn't as though people had lost control since the first night. At some point she'd curled up into a ball when the pain got too much, wings bursting out of her back.

Compared to a lot of people. Her clothes were mostly intact, there was a hole in the back where her wings had ripped through.

She'd flitted her way onto a branch. Peering down at the chaos below, black eyes tracking the raging werewolf. She'd not even noticed the small smirk creeping on her face.

Then she started knocking small twigs and leaves down onto the wolf.

Ruby didn't exactly want to talk about her experiences in the kitchen. But she had managed to find herself some nice, not-on-fire cereal that she was enjoying a whole lot right now.

But when Yang comes up with the idea to fix the water heater her eyes immediately brighten up. Fixing things, that was something she was actually really good at.

"I dunno, don't you think it would be a little too easy if we both tackled it?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

FEBRUARY EVENT LOG

Yang Xiao Long | RWBY | OTA

Monster hour

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wait maybe this needs a cw: vore???

should be vore than enough!

XD

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departure

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Wrecks

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They did the monster mash

waaaa-ooooooooooo

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wrecks

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Monster Hour!

Monster hour - cw transformation things

Departure