MARCH EVENT LOG

[monstertruckers]

code

After weeks in the forest, the trees begin to fade out in favor of grass; miles of it with every shade of green you’ve ever seen, covering rolling hills. The weather tends to be mild, with scattered clouds blown on gentle winds… But the nights somehow seem just as ominous as those in the forest, with the moon uncovered and glaring down balefully like a broken eye. And wide open as they are, the grasslands have their own share of danger and weirdness.

01: MESSAGES

The grasslands are dotted with abandoned electrical poles and power pylons. Ruined electric cables hand off these towers… But along with that are kites and balloons tied to the structures. If a Drifter gets close enough to grab one, they can find a message tied to the tail end. It’s printed with a memory or a phrase that is distinctly from their home, and their past.

If a Drifter holds onto the message, it might just remind them of home and help them resist any changes. Or even pull them back out of a monster transformation! Or it might just haunt their senses instead, and almost make them visualize and hear where they heard that phrase for the first time. Try not to get lost in those visions. Drifters can potentially carry one other message for another character, if need be; especially if they need to revert someone else from a painful transformation. Be advised that doing so will result in haunted senses.

Drifters are advised not to grip the old electric wires too tightly. They might get voices from the past of this world, all crowding their mind; old talk shows, sports games, and news reports on the moon. It’s enough to leave them with a serious headache if you hang on for too long, if not knocking them out completely.

02: TRANSMITTER

Out on the road, Drifters glimpse buildings, which are unnervingly empty. Equally unnerving are strange forms lining the roads, the closer the Convoy gets to the broken buildings. All of them look vaguely humanoid, but half melted and coated in something metallic. Clearly the Husks weren’t limited to the forest, with how many litter the landscape. Some Husks become violent, breaking open as strange ostritch-bird and reptilian monsters claw their way out. Such creatures can be easily dispatched, but still harry Drifters.

Other, inert Husks give off an odd metallic hum. Getting close enough to touch the Husks makes the hum louder, and can trigger behavior changes in Drifters. While the inert Husks can’t force transformations, they leave Drifters restless, on edge, and activating psychological monster traits.

When the Convoy makes camp, it is inevitably near Husk clusters. The metallic hum only increases as the sun goes down. But the Convoy has a counter for that. A haunting melody starts to play on the Convoy speakers, and from any phones; taking the sound closer to the Husks causes ghostly forms to rise up and towards the moon. It puts a stop to the odd humming… At least until the next camp.

03: ROUND 'EM UP

Those with sharp eyes will notice something different one morning, on a nearby hill. It appears to be a flock of cattle… Which might well be a welcome sight for those wanting beef for dinner. As the Convoy rolls closer, it swiftly becomes clear these aren’t normal cattle. Their skin is shiny, scale-like and metallic, and their eyes glow. Those hooves also look sharp enough to punch right through a car door.

These are bull gorgons, the guidance computer helpfully notes. And they are capable of exhaling a petrifying mist; one deep breath is enough to make a person slow, two freezes them in place, and three turns them to stone. Luckily the blood of a gorgon bull can also cure the effect. Drifters won’t be able to capture such dangerous beasts for livestock, but they can still try and wrangle them and harvest them for meat! The skin and horns are both tough enough to be turned into tools, as needed.

Tough cars can easily square off with a gorgon bull and come away victorious. Other cars are advised to try lassoing from a distance, and wearing the animals down before moving in for the kill.

04: BUILDING THUNDER

There’s dark clouds boiling up in the sky. Those who shelter in the Convoy will be spared the worst of the storm… Though the winds have a way of screaming, trying to call Drifters out into the storm. And flecks of metal and glowing moonshard stone have a way of replacing rain and intensifying the storm.

If exposed to the storm outside the forcefield, Drifters experience the following:
Gale Force: Drifters are swept up by the winds and tossed about, and even thrown skyward. Drifters damaged by the wind will find themselves inflicted with temporary Harpy traits. These traits become more intense as Drifters experience hunger or violence.
Deluge: Drifters exposed to rain are at risk of almost drowning, along with shards of Husk metal and moon shards slicing down. Drifters damaged from rain will find themselves inflicted with temporary Naga traits. These traits grow worse as Drifters lie, omit truths, or tell falsehoods.

These traits last as long as the weather remains stormy; the symptoms ease as the skies clear, only to flare back up as storms return, and will remain that way as long as the Convoy remains in the grasslands.

04: MONSTER SHIFT, NAGA

This month, Drifters will have access to the serpentine Naga. On top of all Naga species traits being available, the following occurs:
+Cold Blooded: the rain and storms can potentially make Naga slow and sluggish, or inclined to sleep or seek out other heat sources to gain energy; this includes basking in body heat from others!
+Water Divert: With their water shaping, Naga can divert falling rain and even ground saturation to make the area or other Drifters more dry. They can also concentrate water into different areas, and can also change water into mist or ice.
+Blue shift: the scales of Naga become more vibrantly blue, or a strange mottled combination of blue and stormy gray, the more intense the rains become. These scale colors can also reflect their moods.
+Extra arms that are painful and disorienting to grow, and can result in coordination issues.
+Scale Pains: Pain and discomfort when scales grow in, as well as fangs or talons!
+Water glide: during floods from the rains, Naga find they can easily traverse deep water as though they were simply walking (or slithering) across it.
+Thermal vision, making it easy to track others in the middle of storms. Vision may also become disorienting, and eyes become slitted.

04: MONSTER SHIFT, HARPY

The storm will bring a second monster this month, in the form of Harpy. On top of all Harpy species traits being active, the following occurs:
+Storm Rider: high agility and capable of flying through the storm winds without hindrance. Even tornadoes can be mastered!
+Feather pains: itching, or full pain when growing feathers or wings. Talons may also be painful when growing from fingers or from feet.
+Wind Affinity: able to shape wind, including diverting the worst of the storm winds, or summon and focus wind into razors.
+Warbling Voice: words may waver and slip into something more songlike, or even a damaging sonic scream if emotions are heightened.
+Height Call: a need to get higher into the air, whether through perching on buildings or the convoy, or through flight. A sense of euphoria as they go higher.
+Nest Building: a compulsion to create a nest out of spare and soft objects, and feeling more safe inside that space.
+Heightened vision like a bird of prey, able to pick out details even at great distance. This may be disorienting at first, as vision becomes telescopic.

05: ZOLOM HUNT

As the Convoy travels into marshy points in the grasslands, it becomes clear something is following. Something is hunting the Convoy, disturbing the boggy ground in waves and humps as it travels. It’s hard to say what exactly the monster is, just that it’s BIG and feeling out the Convoy, seeing if it can find prey.

Drifters who try attacking as it hunts will see the shape sink into marshy ground and shrink away, before returning. After about an hour of building tension, it finally strikes. The ground erupts in a spray of water, as a thirty foot serpent called a Zolom rises out of the ground.

Going by the hissing surrounding the Convoy, it’s clear there isn’t just one. The Zoloms go for any who attacked them while hunting, identifying those as the biggest threat, followed by whatever looks like the best prey.

In the aftermath, Zoloms can be harvested. Their fangs are sharp, their scales are tough and can make good leather, and their blood, while corrosive, can still be contained in vials for poisons or anti-venom study by the more medically inclined. And the meat may taste a bit gamey and oddly spicey, but it’s still edible. But first, Drifters need to survive the onslaught.

05-A: ZOLOM ATTACK

Constrictor: The lead Zolom constricts the Convoy trailers to try and crack them open and spill any Drifters out. Other Zoloms target vehicles, trying to get at the Drifters driving them. Tough cars can stand up to the coils and ram into the Zoloms enough to disorient them. Fast cars can easily outpace the Zolom, and if needed lead serpents away from the Convoy before doubling back.

Beta and Venom: There's more danger after Zoloms take wounds. Their blood steams as it hits the ground, burning grass and earth and steaming the water. Zolom blood is laced with venom that either burns Drifters bodies… Or burns their thoughts, inflicting them with a berserk frenzy. The Zoloms also super heat the air in a circle and spit out venom as fire. Cars can protect from the firestorm, though only the Toughest of the bunch will be able to drive away without serious damage.

Death Rattle: With enough tenacity, Drifters are capable of defeating the Zoloms or driving them away. (Spiking them on the top of a nearby tree is optional.) At the end of combat, the Zoloms have a parting gift as they lash, writhe, and snap.

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.

Ruined Buildings: Grow more numerous, encountering one or two a day. Usually in the form of residences, or farms. Many of them have been gutted from both time, elements, and moon warps. But a handful still hold basic supplies; medical kits, canned food, etc. They also hold hastily scrawled maps that show the surrounding area… And a parched looking area surrounding the grasslands. It looks as though the Convoy is heading right towards it.

Farmlands: Occasionally interrupt the rolling grasslands. They look scraggly and overgrown, with sparse crops available. The handful of food in such areas is edible with no ill affects, but the taste profile is confused: apples taste like watermelons, corn tastes like avocados, etc.

Wind Turbines: A few lonely wind turbines still dot the landscape, spinning even without anyone to maintain them. They give a lonely whistle as they turn, perhaps even sounding a little like a whisper… And one trying to mimic the message Drifters may have received on the power lines.


NAVIGATION

Comments

[taediosum]

[ Shit. That's an understatement. The monster collapses, dissolving away harmlessly into nothing - but there's still quite the mess unfolding on their cramped little battlefield.

Arcade is just as confused by what he sees, holstering his pistol and lurching forward on unsteady feet, across broken ground. Jayce should be bleeding out, going into shock— Well, maybe he's still got that part down. The look on his face isn't promising, as Arcade kneels beside him, a little panicked but only because he doesn't really know how to deal with an undead body, rather than a dying one. ]

Just - stay put. I, uh. I have bandages. We can fix this.

[hexrot]

[ okay, jayce tries to tell himself. don't panic. he's not going to die from this. he can't die, right? he already died, his heart barely beats. he can't feel how awful the pain should be, only a clouded ache where it ebbs, and gnaws. not sharp like the twist of a knife. it's a rythmic panging. like a migraine everywhere else but your head. jayce tries to follow his own advice, but arcade's words as he tries to feverishly— put it all back?? oh, my god, it keeps coming out and he's going to be sick but he also knows his stomach isn't going to grant him a discharge— ]

Bandages are going to hold my— [ —god what the fuck is that? intestines? liver? rainbow necroses? the caving gape reeks of blood and tastes of ozone in the air, like chemicals and drugs and if rotting magic had a stench. the blood isn't red anyway, it's a glowing, shimmering neon purple. ] entrails in—?!

[taediosum]

Do you have a better idea?

[ The smell hits him like a physical force, but Arcade barely flinches. He's dealt with worse. Or at least he can tell himself that. The alienness of it, at least, makes it harder to compare - to burnt bodies or flesh poisoned by more familiar radiation, envenomated bites and infected wounds, all of the ugliest triage that ever came through the Fort.

He drops his bag clear of the mess - it doesn't look safe to touch, glowing like that, but he reaches for Jayce's hands, anyway. His panicking isn't going to make this any better. ]

Because I'm all ears. Hey - don't look down, look at me.

[hexrot]

[ thread it shut. maybe. but they're out here instead of in a skinny hospital wing and a meager amount of supplies as is. jayce's unfocused eyes crease before he's snapped and forced to stare at arcade instead, mouthing a quiet no or oh that is lost in how heavy the unneccessary breath out is. he doesn't need to breathe. it's only his brain, rattled, making it harder on him.

he holds a breath and nods, with his voice out in a wobbling crack and bloody hands squeezing for an anchor. ]

—I'm looking. [ not down. don't look down again. and not at the ugly squelch that makes his ear twitch. makes his dead stomach still turn inside out. ] Y-your the Doctor. You know— what to do.

[ jayce has no say in anything. he's the dead guy. ]

[taediosum]

Right. And what I need you to do - is stay calm.

[ As calm as one can be, in this situation. Arcade can't blame him for freaking out (he wouldn't if he was handling this even worse, because he certainly would be, in Jayce's position). But flailing around while his insides are spilling out seems like the worst possible way to get a handle on things, here. And they need to, fast. If any more monsters come along, they're not exactly in a position to defend themselves.

He lets go of Jayce carefully, breaking his gaze to look downward again. There's no masking the way his expression tightens, but, to his credit, he's not letting on anything more. He's careful as he tries to find the edges of the wound, still avoiding touching the worst of the awful technicolor rot. ]

[hexrot]

[ jayce huffs so sharply that a ribbon of saliva spews from his lips, but— nodding quickly, it's all he could do, hovering his hands around the grimy, pooling heat to keep the entrails from sliding too far away from entry and looking anywhere but down. up. look up. at the cieling, chasing stars that aren't there. ]

If you need my hands, just— use them.

[ he'll follow along. ]

[taediosum]

All right.

[ That's helpful, actually, and not exactly expected - but Arcade only flounders for a second before he manages to redirect. It's not the first time he's had to put someone's insides back in, but the damage here is... far more than that. Still, some things are the same. Practically, anyway. ]

Put pressure here, and hold it. [ Arcade does the same, closing the wound as much as possible and salvaging what can be (although he isn't sure there's any point in that, now). With Jayce's hands to keep it from unraveling all over again, he can search his pockets for the first aid odds and ends he's learned to keep on him. Needle and thread, a sizeable roll of bandages. Not enough to fix this, but maybe enough to hold it together until they can get him somewhere safer. Which is how Arcade is used to operating, at any rate. ]

[hexrot]

[ jayce complies quickly, keeping his face turned sideways and expression grimly straight, dulled and unfeeling from disassociation. going through the motions. anything to get through it and to keep a lid on anxiety that's screaming and a creeping sensation that urges him to scrub his hands raw. it might also be of better use to stop breathing, to quit shifting the entrails out of the already tight fit of skin and cavity with every exhale, so— jayce does just that.

he only blinks a few times as the seconds become minutes of rigidness. it feels unnatural not to fill his lungs, makes him truly feel like a corpse damned to half-life. his lower lip juts into his top, and teeth dent into chapped, cracked flesh of scars and meat. he's got this. in his head, he's screaming. outwardly, there's no need to. he feels talented hands work his pliant skin shut. he does not feel the pain. just the discomfort. ]

[taediosum]

[ Maybe it's helpful, but it still causes Arcade to pause, jerked to a startled, mortified halt, when Jayce stops breathing altogether. It's more reflex than reality that drives the freeze. When this happens with living patients, it's cause for panic. Quick thinking. Changing tact on the fly and hoping for a miracle.

Here, it's... Well, still enough to put the acrid taste of brief, unexpected terror in his mouth. But Jayce isn't dying. Jayce is already well past the point of dying. And Arcade has to remind himself that he really can't make it any worse unless he lets it get even further out of hand before he can start moving again. ]

Okay. That should do it. [ His voice sounds deceptively light, even to his own ears, as he ties off the bandaging, some long seconds later. The cloth is already stained with that poisonous ichor, but nothing more is spilling out, at least. Maybe. Moving him is going to be another matter, entirely. But one catastrophe at a time. ] Are you— Ah, how do you feel?

[hexrot]

[ there's less, bubbly resistance pressing up against his wet palms, and part of that absence has jayce's breathing come back steady, slow, like the ebb of a tide. there's nothing left of intestinal tract other than the sloppy grime of purple and prism trail it left behind in a viscous blot on the floor and on his clothes. how is he goinng to explain that . . . or even wash it off . . .

hah. the thoughts are morbidly mundane for someone he nearly got sliced in half and lives. ]

Dead, [ part bite, half dry humor, all just coping— ] but whole. [ at the most possible, at least . . . jayce gazes down at the handiworking quickly, fleetingly, and approves, ] thank you.

[taediosum]

No problem. [ Arcade laughs shakily, not fully steady as he wipes his hands hastily on the ends of his coat. He isn't going to be sick over this - he has seen worse, he's decided, as he falls back to slump to the ground in a loose sprawl of a sit - but he doesn't exactly feel well about it, either.

He glances at Jayce as he pulls the battered battered water bottle from where it's tied to his belt alongside his pistol in its holster. He briefly considers offering it as he drinks, but sets the thought aside as soon as the mental image of water pouring right back out through his wounds leaps to the forefront of his mind. Maybe it's better he just stay quiet, for now. They'll have to start the laborious process of hiking back out to the trucks soon enough. ]