APRIL EVENT LOG

[monstertruckers]

code

The grassland gives way to rougher terrain, green fading to cracked red earth with scraggly sharp-edged plants dotting the landscape. With no trees, the sky overhead feels massive, and almost oppressive with how the sun and moon shine down. It’s entirely at odds with the biting wind that often whips across the flatlands. The ground occasionally breaks open into crevasses or rolls along in arid hills, but it remains stark thorn brush for as far as the eye can see… Save for one strange, ominous tower on the horizon.

01:TOWER OF TRANSFORMATION

The tower looks like a giant fang, trying to bite the sky. A strange pressure emits from it and rests on the skin. Drifters can get closer to the tower, but the terrain is covered with puncturing spikes and sharp thorn brush. It will take a TOUGH vehicle to get close without getting cut. Anyone who bleeds within sight of the tower discovers their cuts are transformed; a monster’s form waits under their skin, and transforms them one injury at a time.

It takes several days to get close to the tower via Convoy, with how the road snakes and winds towards it. Drifters won’t be able to reach it without offroad vehicles until April 15th. Getting close to the tower reveals that it is formed out of a strange metal much like the Husks… And that numerous creatures have been melded into the tower’s surface. A strange red ichor seeps out from these forms. Coming into contact with it heals wounds and can revert one transformation.

Drifters can take some of the fluid with them, if they have means to carry it… But only one extra dose; any more makes the fluid unstable and neutralizes the effect entirely.

01-A: TWISTED MONSTERS

The land here is still littered with Husks, ready to break open to fight… But these monsters are more twisted than usual, and seem to be composed of multiple organisms. Prowling cat-centaur esque brutes called panthera protectors, ungainly catoblepas, reptile energy draining bloodhound dogs, and flying lion-bird anzu are all ready to attack with tooth and claw, to make Drifters all the more like them.

Given the influence of the tower, Drifters can feel their forms twisting, the more wounds they take, and the more the moon begins to form into something almost whole. By April 15th the wounds and moon are almost impossible to resist without either vials or message mementos. And those wounds are determined to drag a change out of Drifters. (Of note, Drifters who took on Harpy or Naga traits last month will find those changes can come back to them unnervingly easily, and blend with other creature changes to become a true chimera.)

These changes grow worse until the moon glow and shards reach their absolute peak on April 20th. At this point Twisted Land occurs.

02: ROAD ATTACK

A week into the thorn brush, chaos starts at sunset. The first warning is a metallic howl echoing down from the hills, followed by a rumble that could almost be thunder… If not for the fact that the sunset stained sky is completely clear. A swarm of metal sweeps over the hills, heading straight at the Convoy.

Running at the lead are more of those canine robots. The Convoy database again identifies them as ‘chromehounds’ and these are clearly in better repair; their fangs and claws are all razor sharp, and they are swiftly closing the distance. Close behind the hounds is a scattered assortment of scrap metal vehicles. The creatures driving aren’t quite human but also aren’t quite monsters; instead they are mechanical forms with just a few remnants of flesh on them. Robot riders and raiders, determined to harry the Convoy.

The goal of the raiders is to crash their vehicles into the Convoy, to slow or halt them. Drifters will need to either fight at a distance… Or hope that their monster side is tough enough for close and bloody combat!

02-A: ATTACK AND AFTERMATH

The attack patterns of the raiders depends on who they are targeting and how transformed the Drifters are. More monstrous Drifters earn full fury, and the vehicles blare with static and a patchy message: “…Purge… Corruption… By steel.” The raiders are determined to kill monsters, even at the cost of their own lives.

By contrast, less transformed Drifters may be overlooked, or only looked at suspicion. But if examined long enough, the raiders will eventually conclude less changed Drifters as still corrupt and attack them, especially if they are associated with the more monstrous!

Afterwards, mechanical salvage can be found to bolster the Convoy vehicles. The machines display a moon stabbed by a sword. It is the same as the symbols on the trap cars from February. Several raiders also carry odd talismans that resemble a rosary formed of tiny computer screens. Many of the screens are broken, but a few carry flickering text: “Your charge: To hunt the Warped. To purify the broken land, purge all sickness that twists us. Only then can Nirvana be opened, and the world reborn without corruption.”

03: OASIS

Just off the road are scattered oases, shining like blue gems in a red wasteland. The waters run surprisingly deep, with monstrous statues submerged in the depths. These statues resemble all 13 types of monsters, some of them even coloring the water depths into shades of green, purple, and red.

The oasis waters can’t fix or restore physical transformations. But it can cure any heat exhaustion with just a few sips, and restore lost strength. Red water can heal wounds, green restores magic fatigue, and purple can stabilize mental exhaustion and strain.

The statues also create a strange resonance on Drifters’ Sigil marks, particularly when Drifters submerge in the water. The statue resonance can’t completely revert transformations but they CAN spread out the transformation between two Drifters and lessen the potency.

04: MONSTER SHIFT, CHIMERA

Peculiar flowers bloom along some of the thorn brush. Drifters who bleed from the thorns will find that their cuts turn into Traits belonging to either Chimera or Unicorns. Chimeras typically appear from red flowered plants, and become increasingly tougher as they gain more traits. The following is also available:
+Tower focus: if growing extra eyes or heads, vision becomes disorienting. Focusing on the tower will help sharpen vision and provide clarity.
+Thermal flight on new wings, as the hot air coming off the ground helps them soar.
+Territorial hunter vs other fully shifted monsters/enemies.
+Blood taste/frenzy: becomes more savage as blood is shed, whether that is their own or others. If it is their own or an enemy, more aggressive; if it is an ally, more protective.
+An increasingly carnivorous and voracious appetite. Plus a craving for raw meat, and a drive to go hunt it personally; the fresher, the better.
+Tough hide. As 3 or more Chimera traits become active, the skin becomes increasingly tougher and harder for cuts and new transformations to occur.
+A sudden roar that cuts into words, easy for conversations to turn into a shouting match.

04: MONSTER SHIFT, UNICORN

As with Chimera, getting cut and bled by flower bearing thorns will impart unicorn traits on Drifters. This typically comes from thorn plants with white flowers. Unicorns have a knack for stabilizing the more violent changes… And perhaps even stopping transformations from bleeding. The following is also available:
+Horn Resonance, a ringing in the horn or forehead the closer one gets to the tower. Can result in either disorientation, or a boost in healing.
+Shift Healing: At the cost of taking on another unicorn/current monster trait, may heal another Drifter of one active trait. This can only be used once per character.
+An increasingly vegetarian diet, including the flowers off various thorn bushes.
+Increased pain or disorientation in the forehead as horn grows in. May also experience pain in feet (hooves) or back (wings or tail) though healing magic can alleviate pain.
+A compulsion to heal the injured or protect those who can. Similarly, a compulsion to protect the virtuous and aid them.
+Fight or Flight response: more likely to bolt at the sign of trouble with increased speed. If fleeing is not possible (or others are in danger) ready to fight to the death in desperate frenzy.
+Urge to run and be outdoors, gains an almost euphoric sensation when running at full speed.

05: TWISTED LAND

Finally the Convoy draws close to the tower and the moon glows balefully overhead, signaling an imminent Moon Warp. Shards of the tower fall away, exposing something encased in the surface. A chimera monster is pierced and pinned to the tower by swords. Elemental blood streams down, glowing in reaction to the Drifters, and causing the blades to glow in turn.

If Drifters make contact with the swords, they explode in a hail of shards, causing more wounds and damaging the tower. The shed blood twists the landscape. Deserts, forests, and swamps all shift together. With them come the hazards of those environments; quicksand, falling trees or strangling vines, terrible draining heat, all blending and switching without pattern. Such twisting weakens the tower. Further fragments break off and turn into monsters, aggressive and ready to fight. The Convoy braces against the twisting, but warning screens say that the shields are low on power. The shields occasionally waver, letting in the Moon Warp and monsters.

With the damage Drifters inflict in their battles, the environment twisting, and the sword shards, the tower crumbles away. It emits a burst of energy that disperses the land twisting, and ends the bloodshed transformations.

06: SALVE

In the aftermath of the warp, the tower has cracked and broken. A column of wavering light takes its place, reaching thin tendrils up towards the moon.

The red ichor leaks out of the tower in rivers, and any Husk it comes in contact with breaks open without transforming into a monster, instead releasing another glowing shard that travels upwards. Drifters can still harness this ichor to undo one change, though the limits still apply. Submerging in the ichor does not undo more than one change… Though it will stain Drifters with red.

The ichor can also heal wounds, and repair those quite thoroughly, acting as a good salve to mend Drifters from past battles.

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.

Twisted Creatures: Local fauna (flying rabbits, jackalopes, gorgons wandering in from the grasslands, etc) gets caught in the thorn bushes and begins bleeding, and turning into a monster. The process is slow and painful, giving Drifters enough time to get away from the scrub brush and the monster if they wish; or enough time to try and dispatch the creature.

Thorn brush: Clumps of thorn brush line the road. A time or two they even grow over the road and need to be hacked through, in order for the Convoy to proceed. The brush is almost like razor wire, with how sharp the thorns are, and how ready they are to slice up skin.

Watering Hole: Rarely, one can find a small oasis in the bleached land. Unfortunately, many of the twisted creatures want a drink from this place as well; it’s a task to grab water and avoid getting on their bad side.

NAVIGATION

Comments

2. so i herd u had raw meatz

[coffinturk]

The scent is powerful and alluring; so much slaughter carried on the wind some distance from the source of water. And... Vincent is nearly to its source when his senses snap back into a more human perspective.

Sharp, sterile. Monster do not bandage their wounds and use antiseptic agents. Perhaps not in direct sight yet, but near enough in proximity for the alert and battle-hardened to be aware despite the stealth. But then the changes Vincent has undergone since they entered the desert of thorny bushes had not yet forced him to abandoned his boots. So there would be the sound of metal to his steps.

For a second, after checking his hands and finding them thankfully as normal as ever- a part of him had feared they would both be replaced by real claws, not just metal ones upon the gauntlet- Vincent pauses a moment to rub one hand over his face, focusing on the clarity of his human self. It's a practice, a mantra he's gone through countless times before.

Just... usually to recover from a half remembered outburst of his other form and not this... full awareness of how he's been. Once he's sure he has himself under control of the impulses, inasmuch as he can, the man takes those last steps forward.

Though... he wasn't expecting to find what he does. The War Hero of Wutai does in fact bleed.

Vincent isn't hiding his approach, yet he doesn't make some pithy remark on the circumstances either. And at least for now, there's no compulsion on the former Turk's part to attack Sephiroth for meat or challenge.

Though the caution and eyes upon the first SOLDIER suggest he's not sure where Sephiroth stands.

"Need a hand?"

Making an offer like that is more than just some words from an altruistic comrade. No, Vincent is testing the level of threat currently present.

delicious free meat in the picky bushes

[firstsoldier]

Metal boots on stone and gravel is hardly a stealthy approach, and it's the lack of stealth that keeps Sephiroth from preparing for another attack, listening and watching instead. That didn't even sound like the machines that had assaulted the caravan. So when a recognizable shape in red and black appears down the path he'd made, he doesn't immediately lunge to his feet in defense of his kills, he just watches in measured assessment.

The ex-Turk doesn't cut a normal silhouette anymore, with those behemoth-esque horns and long, heavy tail. His pause and rubbing a hand over his face might be innocent, might be wrestling with monstrous instincts, or worse.

And Sephiroth bides his time, unmoving. If he were suddenly attacked, there'd be one more corpse in the thorns--

It isn't until Vincent actually speaks that he reanimates, returning to tying off a bandage as if nothing were out of place, the mask of calm unbroken. The smell of his prey slain enemies were still thick in the air, but he wasn't hungry interested in corpses, they weren't likely to suddenly reanimate. This intrusion .. visitation, passing by and likely little else, was hardly a reason for concern, was it?

"There are more containers that need filling, if that's what you mean." He does bleed .. and he shouldn't still be doing so, not with such minor injuries. He doesn't sound quite right, changed teeth forcing a different way of speaking, but he ... sure SEEMS perfectly in control of himself. "The water seems clean."

ugh not the picky bushes. :C

[coffinturk]

Vincent is trying not to breathe too heavily the scent of meat has his face buried in the collar of his cloak, largely unreadable. His eyes are still red, he sounds normal; no mouthful of teeth to compensate for. For many it might take a second glance to realize he has a tail at all thanks to the long train of worn fabric.

The tip of it lashes in absent tics. He seems not to notice nor be thrown off by it.

The former Turk studies Sephiroth for a long moment; far longer than necessary to suggest he's wary. Not that he isn't, but his interests fall elsewhere as well.

"Sure." Why not? That's what he means. Or he'll help out. Slowly he paces first toward the collection of containers, then to the water's edge. There will be some dedication to the task, crouched and mostly turned toward the process of collecting the water.

"....It doesn't help."

The words drift back. Quiet, moderate.

Accursed pickies!!

[firstsoldier]

He stays where he is, quiet, observing. Part of him is sharply alert for signs of aggression, just not the sort one would encounter versus monsters, waiting instead for the arrogant, overconfident displays of bluster he occasionally found when facing against Wutai's elite. Or a young freshly enhanced SOLDIER riding high on treatments and feeling a bit too big for their boots.

He's waiting for a challenger, to his kills or the watering hole, and he is on some level aware of it and disconcerted by it.

It's not his spring, and Vincent isn't contesting his ownership of it.

"..I'm sorry?" It doesn't help refocuses him from waiting for some display of attempted dominance or contesting his place.

[coffinturk]

The blood is not just prey. The shorn claws, the torn scales still littering the ground. There is nothing that would convince him that Sephiroth had somehow lost all of that in the battles against the beasts lying dead in the thorns. These were what had drawn the man's attention in that other way. For a moment, Vincent stills. His right hand tightens a bit around the container he's holding.

But he forces himself to continue, now sure he can keep his voice even as he caps off the water and sets that aside. Then turns to face Sephiroth fully.

"It all comes back. You're only hurting yourself."

The cape's long folds shift as the tail lashes; while Vincent seems to move with grace that belies someone trying to become accustomed to new limbs, he doesn't have complete control on the display of emotion.

"...You don't have to like it. But don't cripple yourself fighting it."

[firstsoldier]

A precarious illusion, one way or another. There's a reason beyond thorns that his feet are bound as they are, he'd simply not gotten back to putting his boots on; not everything can be easily cut off or shaved away. Not everything. But enough.

"Does it?" For all that the circumstances are less than desirable, panic hasn't ever really set in. This was happening to everyone as far as he could tell, he just.. didn't tolerate it on himself. It's easy to remove scales, or feathers. If that's all it ever was he'd be fine.

Except he can run his tongue over teeth no longer designed for an omnivore's diet, and those wouldn't be so easily removed. "Your concern is kind but misplaced. These will heal in time." Slower than they should be by far. He shouldn't still be bleeding. That was too normal, waiting for clots to form the way they do on ordinary people. "Should combat be necessary, I will be unhindered. You and the others will remain safe."

[coffinturk]

"Yes." Vincent isn't going to mince possibility here; that Sephiroth can shave away things here and get away with the illusion of being less a changing monster. Though personally he doubts it'll be much different in Revan. So he sticks with certainty, one gained from experience.

"Hrmph." Concern is it? The noise Vincent makes in the wake of that suggests it's nothing so grand even before he elaborates. "Are you sure about that? I doubt I'm the only one suffering from the trip here."

Well, he knows for sure that Sephiroth's combat skills haven't suffered. Nor the enhancements. And... it's fairly clear the man does not have a Restore materia on hand.

"There's no support team in the wings." Waiting to swoop in and patch up Shinra's prized weapon so the cameras never catch a glimpse that their 'hero' is mortal as anyone. Vincent retrieves another container and goes to fill it.

[firstsoldier]

That draws a moment's pause, challenge weighed and decided ... unlikely. That was a perfectly ordinary comment from someone who didn't know what he was capable of. "You may test your doubts as to my fitness at your leisure." He's fought longer with far worse injuries than thorn scratches in the past and doubtless would again, changes or no.

"Support teams are a luxury and one often absent. This is no different." His smile is brief, behind a curtain of silver bangs. "For all that I am not as unstoppable as the news claims I am, I am also not a porcelain doll in need of rescue and pampering. I won't break so easily against thorns and scratches."

This was all deeply disturbing, in a profoundly unignorable way he didn't like to think about, the doubts and fears since childhood as to what he really was ground against uncomfortably, but it .. wasn't just him.

It wasn't. They were all changing, failing. Becoming the things he was tasked to destroy.

The thought is shaken off before it can settle too firmly into place.

[coffinturk]

"I'm not an idiot."

His newly implanted instincts might find it interesting. Urging. The grounds on which they stand are clearly flush with game and sport to hunt. But the human mind still reigns right now and Vincent isn't going to go head to head with Sephiroth.

He's a former Turk and no rookie. Or headstrong SOLDIER with the impulse and drive to fight strong opponents just for the sake of it. The man is blunt and tone dry though, indicating some level of awareness of the imbalance in power here.

Sephiroth won't break so easily against thorns and scratches. Physically anyway. But here too, Vincent is also merciless.

"But you will transform."

When the horns and tail appeared, Vincent had feared he'd lost control of himself again and was about to change- though this time without the tell-tale warnings that the other form was about to burst forth. It had been painful to grow. It'd been terrible to realize he couldn't bring himself back to a human configuration no matter how much he poured into trying to suppress it.

He'd been horrified to find they stayed.

"Are you planning to rip yourself apart to try and stop it?"

[firstsoldier]

Sephiroth is not particularly talkative at the best of times, even with close and dear friends. Vincent's nearly a stranger, and opening up about concerns and fears simply wasn't going to happen.

It didn't mean the concern wasn't there. The undercurrent of dread at scales, feathers, fur between his toes, knowing if he flexed his fingers short claws would appear from hidden sheaths, it's still there, just under the surface like a river beneath ice. Acknowledging it, acknowledging it to anyone beyond only himself in solitude and privacy would mean admitting if he weren't careful he wouldn't begin to pass as human anymore. Would have to begin thinking about the thoughts his mind turned to, the still easily squashed but unfamiliar impulses he knew didn't belong, and more.

So he doesn't address what he intends to do about it at all. What he chose to do was his alone to worry about; he instead finishes his choice of bandage and reaches for his boots. They'd be uncomfortable but it was less likely altered feet would be noticed later. "Are you concerned I'll turn cannibal and begin killing the convoy's people?"

[coffinturk]

Vincent would be frankly worried about anyone that would open up to him. He's not entirely sure Tifa would. ...Even the one he remembered from his time. But she's the closest thing to a dear friend he has here one way or another. And it would still be strange, maybe. That's the point.

The gunman moves with precise care. The waterhole is no less free of thorns on the edge and his movements as he fills the containers or turns to speak with Sephiroth always, always make certain that the tail can never lash with emotive force and slice itself on the brambles. He wants no more changes than he must deal with. Is it going to be like this, always?

How fast they become monsters. And Sephiroth's question earns what must be a soft chuckle. Shoulders raising a few times before he settles and stares directly at the silver-haired man.

"No need to be concerned. It's a possibility for all of us. I go over what to do if someone breaks. You should do the same."

[firstsoldier]

"I have." His confidence in his own abilities is hard-won through bitter and bloody experience, and he doesn't seem at all like he's bothered by the idea.

Or anything else. "So far of all of you, the blond with the telekinetic blades seems as if he would be the most trouble to eliminate."

Not only has Sephiroth weighed what to do about any of them going feral, unsurprisingly he's decided killing them is the most efficient way to stop a threat. Where does Zack fit on that list?

Nowhere at all. Angeal trusted him, so Sephiroth did too, it was as simple as that. Preparing for another SOLDIER to snap like a twig and start eating people was completely unnecessary. It might come back to bite him later. "In the unlikely chance it's me instead, your best hope is that you can outrun me."

[coffinturk]

"Good." Vincent is satisfied and not at all offended that he doesn't number among the threats. If he can be effective, all the better Sephiroth doesn't expect him to be. But as it was mentioned before, he's not an idiot. Any efforts to stop Sephiroth in any way would be indirect, planned as best as possible and honestly? Likely making sure Zack is on hand along with this blond the man just mentioned.

The one that isn't Cloud. Thanks for the hint there too, Sephiroth. The former Turk will be sure to use it if the need arises.

"Hrmph. You're right there." But does that mean Vincent Valentine would back down in such a way? He won't. In some ways he cannot. Yet setting aside all the reasons it's good not to admit this and that they are strangers in the end, Vincent himself is not one to speak so openly. Thus he will not. Perhaps some of it lingers in the air in the dry words tinged with somber tone or presence or stance; or simply the shared familiarity of coming from the same planet.

Most of the containers are filled right now. Only one or two more and Vincent will have completed what's needed to be done here. One might remark on the show of compassion if it weren't for the simple, pragmatic idea that it would be best not to mix the drinking water with the shed of blood from the injuries Sephiroth has inflicted on himself.

He has fallen silent and into the process of completing the task at this point, half hunched over the water hole and offering no more words. What more is there to say after all?

[firstsoldier]

Getting that specific blond man's assistance with anything might be entertaining to watch. Sephiroth's impression of him was one of misanthropic generalized hatred for everyone and everything.

His twin might be another case entirely, but Vash hadn't really popped up as noteworthy on Sephiroth's mental radar. "...No offense meant," he adds after a long thoughtful pause. Vincent knew who he was, and at least the public rumors, so it really shouldn't be a surprise that he felt he could handle the ex-Turk easily, but being a monster.. being a literal actual monster could change things.

If he lost intellect to instinct..

With boots back on he rises easily to his feet, with a grace that belies the discomfort in changed joints at doing so. The long heavy coat remains where it is for now, in favor of retrieving filled bottles; it's still a short walk back to the truck to stash them for the convoy, and no time like the present.

[coffinturk]

"None taken." By all accounts both voice and immediacy of the answer? That's true. Vincent tends to look at things in a practical light. And he's not so proud that he wouldn't admit that he doesn't like the thought of having to test how long he can last against the General one on one.

No, he'd much prefer to stack the deck.

Then there's Revan's own brand of reality crushing down on them all to complicate things. But at least Vincent lives in no illusion of what happens when a monster's urges, instinct and power swamps one's human reasoning.

Last container capped. He offers no complaint when Sephiroth grabs containers. He's got his own in hand and already started back without a further word. For now, anyway.

...Good talk.