route666rp | JUNE EVENT LOG

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JUNE EVENT LOG

Eventually, gravity behaves normally as the Convoy reaches a new region. Rivers crisscross this area, carving paths through hills and valleys alike. The vegetation has come back in earnest, after being thinned out by the thorn scrub and ragged brush. Now green grass and flowers are thick on the hills, along with scattered trees. The weather begins to cloud over, with dour skies and rain being a constant. The moon and sun alike are often smothered by clouds, making for gloomy and moody scenery in turns.

01: GAS STATION GALLOWS

Surprisingly, there’s another gas station so soon, right where the river bends. With sheets of rain coming down and the sky growing dark, it looks like the safest spot… At least until the Convoy comes in close. Bodies hang from the roof of the gas station, like macabre puppets on strings and nooses. They have long since turned to Husks with hints of transformations poking through. A message has been spray painted on the ground: “PURGE.” Under the message is a symbol of a sword piercing the moon, and a name: “Steel Wardens.”

The Convoy tries start the speakers, like in the grasslands… But something is wrong. Last month’s attacks took a heavy toll on the Convoy. Instead, the phones of various Drifters start playing the melody. A crackling transmission comes in:
“Sorry… Gotta ask this of you. Only way to help these poor bastards on their way. In return… Try to answer your questions-”

The radio cuts out after that. But if Drifters choose, they can send out a message after sending a Husk on their way. The radio will try to answer, though reception is still patchy and responses are short.

02: BROKEN SHIELD 

As the Convoy tries to settle down for an evening, something goes wrong. The shield flickers in and out, before popping like a soap bubble. While most of the local Husks have been exorcised thanks to fellow Drifters, it’s still a tense couple of nights.

And without the shield, the effects of the moon becomes more vivid. Some nights the storm clouds help mask the moon and dampen the call… But other nights it can break through the gloom and shine harshly on the Convoy. Drifters may find themselves spending sleepless nights wandering the Convoy perimeter… Or maybe wandering out into the wilds. Where there’s still no shortage of other monsters prowling around, and waiting to pounce on any fresh meat. A few of them may even try raiding the Convoy now that the shield is down. Some Drifters may opt to form watches during the night, or try to find some form of fitful sleep. After several nights of this, the Convoy itself seems to have had enough, with how the screens flare up one morning to show a map and repeat a message:

“Scan complete. Field Generator components found nearby. Request immediate retrieval and installation.”

03: POWER PLANT APPROACH

The structure in question lays in the middle of a lake, fed by several rivers. It looks like some form of old water-fed power plant, with broken wheels still turning. Approaching the power plant is possible through either precarious and half rusted bridges (travel on foot is advised!) or through fording the water. Though that carries its own risk. (See Prompt 4: Don’t Drown.)

Approach on the bridges is a risky matter. The metal looks ready to fall apart if too much weight is placed on it. Hopefully Drifters approaching this way are light footed, or have some means of rescue if the floor breaks underneath them.

The power plant also has its own defenses in the form of floating puffer fish flying above the lake, and strange elongated diving monsters swimming the depths. The Blugu attack with needles and sleep bubbles, trying to knock any Drifters of bridges into the waters below for the Divers.

03-A: POWER PLANT EXPLORATION

The Convoy reports say that the generator is in several components that different groups of Drifters need to find in the old building. Be warned that there’s flooding in parts of the hallways, the deeper one goes. And the water might still very well have some weird, transformative properties! If it doesn’t, there are still partially submerged hallways that reflect Drifters anxieties, regrets, and insecurities back on them. But with searching, Drifters can find generator components in the following rooms:
Boiler Room, where an old machine still shoots out super hot steam that can easily burn and scald.
Bone Room, which clearly isn’t part of the old workings, but something has co-opted this room and turned it into a collection of bones. Bones from monsters, metal bones from husks… All of them carrying sharp edges.
Cold Room, where repeated Moon Warps have turned this room into a freezer. At least the component isn’t damaged, and just needs to be chipped out of the ice?
Electric Room, which has gone a bit haywire, with stray bolts of electricity criss-crossing the room. The component lays in the center, but to reach it the electricity must be dodged or redirected.

03-B: POWER PLANT INSTALLATION

Jars:There is one more room taking up a chunk of the ruins. It is filled with jars that reach from floor to ceiling… And those jars have people in them. Or the remains of people. They’re overgrown by vines and plantlife, turned to Husks, and their heads are broken and cut open. Drifters likely have a good guess on where those brain monsters from last month came from.

Next to the jars is a monitor with a brief message: “Contact lost with----. Engaging emergency sleep procedures. We may never wake, but we need to try.” There’s a handful of people still intact in their jars… But getting too close to them trips an alarm system. Chromehounds, lasers, the works all turn on to try and drive Drifters away from the room!

Installation:Thankfully, returning to the Convoy and installing the generator pieces is easy enough. They fit together easily, almost magnetically. Anyone with a degree of tech savviness can aid in the effort, and a compartment in the Convoy opens up to help install the generator.

After this, the shield finally hums to life, and nights become a lot more peaceful.

04: DON'T DROWN

There’s a river that snakes through the landscape. It turns blood red during sunsets, glows with starlight at night, and is an almost hypnotic blue during the day. Once or twice, the Convoy crosses over it on long bridges. And it eventually empties into a massive lake with the abandoned powerplant in the center.

If someone chooses to ford the river or take a dip in it, something more unnerving happens. The waters go still and reflect the Drifter, no matter how much splashing is done. The deeper anyone goes, the more the reflection grows; most of the time, the reflection is some aspect a Drifter would sooner keep hidden. The river might even replay an image of something they regret.

If a Drifter gets up to their chest in the water, their reflection snaps into a monstrous form, and something pulls them underwater. When they emerge they are completely changed. This effect lasts the entire month before wearing off in dryer climates: the only way to cut it short is to take Salve from the thorn scrub, or gamble with the hospital medicines.

05: MONSTER SHIFT, MERFOLK

The waters of this area have one last twist; submerging imparts Merfolk traits. On top of all Merfolk traits the following is also available this month:
+Double Drowning: Merfolk with the compulsion to drown other creatures can find some very tempting targets along the river banks; horse-like creatures lingering near the waters. But upon contact with the creatures, it becomes clear that not only are they life-like machines, they rapidly disassemble into weighted nets. Or they just explode into shrapnel; either option can spell trouble for the Merfolk!
+Current Thrall: whenever the sun sets, the river currents change to something more chaotic and twisted, uncertain which way to flow. This lasts until moonrise, when they settle on flowing the opposite way. But it will be up to Merfolk to shape water or survive the twisting currents until then.
+Illuminating Light: Bioluminescence can light up the bottom of lakes and rivers, revealing the remains of Husks and almost prophetic writing carved into stone.
+Not So Dry Land: Merfolk pulled onto dry land can shape water into containers and spheres to keep them hydrated… And with some focus and practice, even give themselves a way to surf across land!
+Bigger Fish: The lakes and rivers hold their share of monsters besides the Merfolk. Some, like Mizutsune and packs of Forneus and Divers, see Merfolk as viable prey, and appetizing to boot.

06: DROWNED SONG

The power plant shifts the further it sinks into the depths. Waters flood the lower levels, and transform the structure; industrial concrete and tunnels are replaced by ornate columns and a spacious ball room, along with an opulent stage.

And almost all of it is submerged in transforming waters. Only merfolk (or those sharing a Merfolk’s kiss) have a chance of surviving this area. Flood waters can easily sweep Drifters down into the depths. There’s even stray rivers that feed into the underwater opera from the outside.

A silent leviathan traces through the ruins, serpentine and whale like. It has no interest in the Drifters unless they float too close to its mouth and appear as snacks… But its wake generates strange whirlpools that can bash and bruise, and keeps everyone trapped in the opera house. Bubbles rise up from the floor or swirl in the whirlpools, and provide flashes of vision: a finned priestess meditating on the moon and then sinking into the depths. Said bubbles also release soft melodies of song; beware of potentially singing along, which can draw attention from the drowned machines.

06-A: SONIC CRY

An array of ornate dish shaped machines catch all sound and magnify it… And track the leviathan as it moves through the opera house, always angled on the monster. As the machines collect more sound, they echo it back in damaging soundwaves that sound like a requiem or a dirge.

The sound in turn is distorted into words that match the bubble visions:
“Offer your songs and voice to the moon… She can transform them into power, greater than anything the Wardens could ever give. Even as the old audience fears you, the moon will always listen… Such monsters are a poison. To the water. The land. The very air. They are a blight upon our world that pollute everything. We will always find new and better ways to cull, as long as they come back.”

Anything caught up in those sound waves can feel pressure and pain in their bodies, but that’s just a side effect of the crossfire. The machines are focused on the leviathan, and bringing it down now that they have ammunition. It’s all enough to seriously damage or outright kill the leviathan depending on how much noise Drifters make, or how much song is pulled out of them by the currents and the bubbles.

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.

Boat Salvage: There’s a large amount of abandoned boats on the river, some beached and some drifting free in the rivers. It’s possible to salvage equipment or supplies from them… Just make sure you know how to swim, in case you fall overboard.

Gone Fishing Part 2: Much like the marshes in the forests, there’s spots for fishing here as well! Please remain careful with submerging in the water, as the transformed fish are still willing to bite back.

Flooding: One aspect of the river lands, especially with the waters and rains, is the roads flooding over. Some can be crossed with risk, others require routing around. Or a bit of creative bridge building.

Rain: Storms are a constant in the river lands, ranging between fog and mist, to complete downpours, and thunderstorms! It can make for somber moods, with occasional breaks of sunlight or moonlight.

NAVIGATION

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

For those who wish to ask questions of the husks, please post them here! Note that Husks will be limited in their replies, and can only answer a handful of questions before departing.

"Where's the closest safe place from here? Were you going to it or coming from it?"

1: Gallows

Shit.

[So much for another gas station so soon. SecUnit jumps down from its ATV, reaching for the radio there and clipping it off to send out a broadcast.]

Husks at the station. Non-combatants avoid. Past evidence of Steel Wardens in the area.

[It stares at those forms as it sends the message, then clicks the radio off as it observes the forms, circling the space to look at the ropes, to take images of the warnings there, the macabre sight of those bodies. Documenting evidence like this is a crime scene, even though 'what happened' seems pretty fucking obvious, at this point.

It's about halfway done with that effort when it hears/feels the rumble of an approaching vehicle and lifts its head to scowl in that direction. For fuck's sake. That radio call was supposed to be a warning, not an invitation.]

2: Broken Shield

[When the shields go down, the SecUnit doesn't argue over what needs to be done, or start taking charge of a watch roster, or any of the humans or other organic beings who inevitably volunteer themselves for watch duty around the evenings. It just makes its own quiet resolution, and so it's there, most nights, walking the edges of the collection of vehicles. It's walking lightly, quietly, so as not to disturb anyone there as it makes its way to each defensive point on the Convoy.

There's a rumble in the distance, thunder and a distant thrum as the rain starts slowly to sweep in towards their stopping place for the night. SecUnit stops in place, head turning to watch the horizon, before it steps around the nearby vehicle, some brief movement or scrape of a foot on the ground alerting it to the closest nearby presence of another drifter.]

Hey. [More startling than it means to be, but its mind and attention are clearly focused out over the nearby riverbanks and their surroundings.] Weather incoming. Visibility's going to be shit.

4: Don't Drown

[And the river swells overnight, to make matters worse. The overflowing banks come up nearly to the edge of the vehicles, and SecUnit is once again pacing the edges of it, warily testing the now-muddy ground and scanning the edges for any way past the next section, sometime after breakfast.

It manages to make it a few feathering branches of the ford away from the main Convoy before the lacework of the rivers finally stymies it, leaving it on a little near-island of sand and scowling at the water.

It's been in blue-black pants and a casual jacket this entire time, but as SecUnit tests the depths of the water, the flicker following it against the clear blue of the sky is a pale scuffed grey-white armored shape, its movements stiff and economical as it follows along behind SecUnit, step for step.]

5/6: Drowned Halls and Merfolk

[A shape darts through the dark depths of the water, especially at night, arrow-like. SecUnit makes a return to the Convoy now and then, but ever since it got dunked in the water it's been hard to find, ducking into the shadows as the long, narrow almost eel-like body with its dark edge scales and line of bioluminescent patches along the length of its body, the only sign of its face the occasional lambent reflection of light off of its eyes.

When it comes into the open space of the opera hall it starts diving deep, some monster instinct sending it away from the crystal lanterns towards the dark shadows, but the bubbles rising to the surface prove an obstacle - each time it starts to get close it finds itself forced to twist to the side, avoiding those and the sheer size of the leviathan as it drifts through, until one of its darting motions carries it around and past another shape in the water, the familiar-unfamiliar form of another Drifter, as its bioluminescence flared and died down, leaving it a dark shape in the water nearby.]

[ooc: SecUnit will be a dragonfish mer for the end of the month! Until then, you can catch it with any of these prompts, or ask me to write up a custom for any of the others. It can also, as always, be caught watching shows in the common room now and then.]

Edited 2025-06-08 02:14 (UTC)

[ OOC: Reminder for new CR/assumed CR- I am A-OK with assuming your character has seen Deacon around the convoy for ease of working together in a mission, however I am deliberately keeping track of who Deacon introduces himself to as well as how, and he has not yet given a name to anyone outside of FO4 cast mates. Your character will not know him by name. ]

---Broken Shield // Night Shift

Deacon has always been practically nocturnal, but with the loss of the convoy's shield system, he's doing his part to keep watch. The sunroof of his vehicle is propped open and Deacon sits with his feet dangling through it, his gun resting in his lap as he watches out over the perimeter. He's incredibly quiet up there, and there's no telling how he manages to see anything at night with a pair of sunglasses on, but he's used to it, and somehow still at his observational best.

If anyone from the convoy approaches from behind, he'll hear them coming, spinning with his gun ready just in case a husk has managed to slip by, but never pointing his weapon until he's confirmed what's made the sound. Otherwise, he faces out across the landscape. Anything within range of his sight is used for target-practice, taken down before it's given the chance to test it's mettle. He's a great shot at long-range.

"Oooh," he mutters after taking another stray monster down, "Three more points and I think I've earned myself a smoke."

---Power Plant Approach // Don't Fall

Back home, water like this, specifically one boasting to be the home of a power plant, generally meant radiation and mirelurks (mutated crabs the size of humans that simply chew through ammo). Deacon is on high alert, chewing his own lower lip as he steps onto the bridge with a light foot. This is way more exposed than he's comfortable being... and his weapon will get absolutely waterlogged the moment it gets wet, so he's doing his absolute damndest not to.

The floating creatures are not exactly what he expected to see, but it's clear that they're a threat the moment he's forced to dodge a barb shot in his and his comrades' direction as well as a ray of bubbles. He's not certain what those do, but he's not risking it.

"Aw, come on-- I didn't bring my fishing gear!" he shouts, lining up a shot, "Think they sound like a popping balloon when they get hit?!?"

---Power Plant Exploration // Regrets? A Few.

The halls of the power plant bring way more comfort to Deacon than they should by any means, but given his distaste for wide-open spaces and his preference for shadowy corners, he's way more in his element. At least, so much can be said before something strange seems to ripple in the reflections of the water at his feet.

For some, one might find reflections of the man above, just sporting an utterly insane haircut (everything from mullets to mohawks and in-between, in just about every color). For others, the reflection of what seems to be a different person entirely (always wearing sunglasses). Each time, he'll attempt to kick it with his foot to wash it away, laughing it off before moving past it along the corridor.

"Sheesh, I really should've checked my reflection before heading out this morning."

---Power Plant Exploration // Bone-Zone

"Love what you've done with the place." He quips as he takes in the collection of bones piled throughout the room. "It's missing something, though. Maybe a cross stitch for the wall that says 'Bone Sweet Bone'..." he pauses, "Bome?? I'll workshop it."

Hopefully whatever is responsible for this pile doesn't come to defend it, but for now, Deacon is just using those observational skills of his to spot whatever piece it is they're looking for.

✘ ⸻ gas station gallows

[ If Blake had been in something approaching a good mood as they'd driven into a new area, that cheer is dashed when she pulls up next to the abandoned gas station. They've seen a few like it on this trip so far, but-- the bodies strung from ropes are new.

She's been talking with other drifters about their theories a lot, and the biggest theory about the Husks is that they were once people. Like them, turned into monsters, and then into Husks. They may not be some mindless beast. They might have once had dreams and hopes and loves.

Blake can't bear to leave them there.

She shoots down a few, bullets snapping the ropes, and catches them as they fall. Before the monsters can burst out from within their casing, Blake puts them out of their misery, a blade through the heart or head. And then she starts digging the graves. She finds a patch of grass and soil next to the road, a shovel in a backroom, and grimly sets about her task. For a long while, there's nothing but silence and the wind, until she hears footsteps approach. ]

There's another shovel, if you'd like to help.

[ Where Blake had once killed Husks without thinking about it, now she finds herself mourning them. Like the raiders from a couple of months ago, so human in their construction. Are all the monsters they encounter things that were once human? ]

✘ ⸻ power plant exploration

[ Blake's no expert engineer. She knows enough to have designed her own gun-katana-grapple weapon, and she knows the basics of vehicles, but that's about it. So, why is she venturing into the broken down power plant? Because Yang is a genius at anything mechanical, so Blake's hoping she can find something useful, and together they'll be able to help patch up the convoy.

It's an awful, claustrophobic place. It reminds her of the tunnels underneath the farming community she'd been in not long before she'd gotten dragged to this world; half-submerged, stagnant and dim. Just about everything metal seems to be covered in brown rust, and the waters reflect bizarre shapes back at her, flashes of red and white, silhouettes familiar enough that she has to look away, swallowing hard.

She has passed a bunch of rooms so far; rooms heated from steam, rooms crackling with electricity. And as she peers into the doorway of one, she notes a hole in the roof of the room, the barest glimpse of a cloudy sky. Blake cautiously heads in--

Only to scatter backwards when the clouds part briefly to allow a wan sun, her hand hits that weak light, and it burns.

Retreating to the doorway, Blake clutches her hand to her chest, feline ears flat. It doesn't take two guesses to figure out what just happened. Damn it. She's a vampire, and apparently the weakness to sunlight just kicked in. How is she even going to get out of here? Will the cloud cover hold?

Blake waves down someone nearby. ]

Can I ask for your help? There's some parts in this room-- it looks safe enough, but, um. I can't go in.

✘ ⸻ drowned song

[ Blake likes to think she's getting smarter about the traps in this landscape, but something about the lake had drawn her in. She'd just gone to sit next to it and read by its glowing light at night, but she'd seen-- a shadow. A hypnotizing phantom. An absence. It had drawn her in, and further in, until she'd fallen beneath the waters.

Now, once the power plant has sunk and revealed a bizarre ballroom, she finds that at least one of her problems has been solved: there's no sunlight in here, so she can't get burned. It's a small mercy.

On the other hand, she's... kind of trapped.

There's a platform high up that isn't consumed by the waters-- maybe someone got trapped there as it sank, maybe they're exploring. Either way, Blake seeks them out. She emerges from the water, cat ears first, bat wings pulled tightly against her back so they don't drag in the water. Beneath the surface, a long mermaid tail is visible, black-purple scales shining in the illuminated depths. ]

Please, no catfish jokes.

[ Well, at least she's taking this whole thing well enough. ]

Don't come in the water. You'll have to find another way out, or you'll transform and get stuck.

"Nirvana... But so far. Did we ever have a chance of reaching it? So many monsters, calamity from the skies, and something lurking at the gas station-

They... Weren't happy to see us-"

001 - gas station gallows

[ The unrelenting downpour has forced Zack to make some minor concessions in his usually uniform appearance, in deference to his need to see clearly. (No matter how good his eyesight is, now, he can't exactly see clearly through wet hair and falling water.) He's tied back his hair and found a scrap of old tarp to cinch over his head and shoulders, making a short, patchy hood and cloak. Both of which only serve to highlight the ring of small, spiny horns that spans from one side of his head to the other. Conveniently, they also help to keep the hood in place.

When they reach the next station, though, he almost wishes he couldn't see so clearly, in the rainy, gloomy dark. Those are bodies, hanging from the roof. Husks or not, it's still a gruesome sight, and for once Zack is slow to approach, cautious as he drops down off his chocobo and steps beneath the awning, out of the rain.

He's frowning down at that message on the asphalt, when the static and whine from the Convoy's sound system's false start makes him jump - though not nearly as much so as the sound he hears in the quiet, just after. Because that sound is coming from his pocket.

It may not be his ringtone, but Zack reflexively grabs his phone, anyway - as well as the nearest drifter. (He's not going to be responsible for remembering whatever this is, on his own, okay?) Flipping his cell open, he holds it up for both of them to hear the crackling, distant message that comes through. ]

Hey! Wait— [ But there's no answer, of course, and Zack shoots his companion a worried look, before glancing back up at the shadowed figures hanging from the roof beyond them. Send them on their way, huh? ]

002 - raincheck

[ The downside to having a vehicle without a roof is not having anywhere to shelter, outside the Convoy proper, when the weather is off-and-on stormy all the time. Not that Zack considers this much of a downside, himself, but it's probably one for everybody else. Because he is neither small, nor a light sleeper - and he can sleep just about anywhere. So when he's not out at night helping to keep the perimeter safe, or traveling during the day, he's catching a few spare hours of sleep in some corner of the Convoy or another. Passed out on a couch? Sprawled across one of those cramped beds? Snoozing at a dining room table or hunched over the bar? Lying flat on the floor of an empty shop car? The possibilities aren't endless, but most of them sure do look wildly uncomfortable.

But there is a silver lining, too, because he's not just sleeping on whatever piece of furniture (or lack thereof) that he's temporarily claimed to pass out on - he's completely turned to stone. He looks like a two-ton marble carving, pale blue shot through with swirls of white and paler gold, a color reminiscent of clear, sunny skies (the kind they definitely aren't seeing, right now).

Doesn't sound like so much of a silver lining? Well, it is. Because at least he's not snoring loudly enough to wake up anyone in a hundred foot radius. In fact, he doesn't even seem to be breathing. Which could be kind of alarming. ]

003 - don't drown

[ The rickety, rusty bridges leading to the power plant definitely don't look up to holding Zack's weight, so he opts to search for another way in. Unfortunately, that means finding a way across that weird, too-blue lake. Not so unfortunately, there are lots of boats around - a few of them even still floating. Zack finds and frees one of these from where the equally-eerie river feeds into the lake, and he's more than wiling to take aboard a companion for the ride - cautiously, as unsteady as the old, badly weathered boat seems, but still. As long as they're careful with it, they should be able to sail across smoothly.

...A little too much so. The water goes unnaturally still as they glide out into it, the ripples cast away from the boat and Zack's careful paddling with his arms at the bow disappearing until the surface has smoothed to a glassy shine. Then the reflections twist—

Maybe the water shows something of Zack's that he doesn't want to share: a younger version of him, kneeling over a dying man, weapon in hand. Or perhaps it's Zack as he is now, only bloodied and badly wounded, himself clearly dying.

Or maybe it's not his reflection in the water, at all, but something of his fellow drifter's? ]

004 - wildcard

[ throw something else at me or plot w/me @gravejuice! down with merfolk monster transformations/monster fights chaos ensuing or simply proceeding to power plant exploration after the obligatory awkwardness with option 3. zack will also be out and about while the shield is down at night, trying to keep the convoy safe, so feel free to have your character run into him in that general scenario, as well ]

i - power plant approach + monster shift (minor)

[ It takes a few tries, on a few different rusting, actively broken down bridges, before Arcade settles on one that seems like it might hold up. He won't apologize for being overly cautious, though, when he can already see the dark shapes of - somethings of the most assuredly unfriendly variety, darting about beneath the seemingly calm surface of the water.

One at a time seems like the only reasonable way to go about this, still, and while he doesn't relish being the one to go first, he can't really insist on so much caution and then not go. The narrow bridge creaks and groans underfoot, but that doesn't exactly bother him. He's not used to any kind of metal structure having a clean, silent, rust-free air about it. (Most things wear down, after a couple hundred years of weathering or general disuse. Or both.) The going even seems good, until, of course, he nears the mid-point. The rattling and groaning get noisier, splashes accompanying the sounds, this time, as a few (hopefully extraneous) supports tumble into the water below.

He's careful about weighing his next step, but it doesn't make a difference. The next segment of the bridge collapses under foot, sending Arcade plummeting toward the water. Instead of plunging in and sinking with a splash, though, he lands flat, hitting a solid surface - solid ice, which forms on the water just before he hits it. His head smacks against the ice hard enough to bounce off, his glasses skittering away in the other direction, landing perilously near the water's edge - and those dark shapes are starting to circle. ]

ii - broken shield + monster shift (major)

[ Arcade doesn't go out at night, while the shields are down, as a rule. He isn't as capable or well-equipped to deal with the more enterprising (see: stronger) monsters likely to try and raid them after dark as - basically anybody else here. He'll help if he hears a fight already in progress, of course, but he definitely isn't going looking for one.

Which makes it all the stranger that he is out, on this particular night. It's an especially dark one, the moon blotted out by more of those looming, roiling clouds - though for once, it isn't raining. He looks half asleep as he leaves his truck, taking no weapons, not even stopping to pull on his coat. He isn't trying to sneak around, either, slipping idly past anyone guarding the perimeter where the shields usually sit purely by happenstance, or perhaps simply by dint of looking like he knows exactly where he's going.

And he doesn't have to go far. In the Riverlands, the water is always somewhere near, and Arcade takes a few stumbling steps down into it before he starts to realize what he's doing. The shock of the cool water, maybe, startling some sense back into him. By now it's too late, though, the rough current tugging at his legs - which are starting to feel decidedly unsteady. ]

iii - boat salvage

[ Once again reduced to the difficulty of having to figure out an entirely new set of limbs, Arcade is less than happy with his new predicament. But that won't stop him from finding ways to remain at least somewhat productive and maybe even helpful, even if he's going to spend the whole time grumbling and snappish.

Which is only marginally different from the norm, so.

The boats clogging up the waterways or broken down along their shores, cluttering their bottoms as sunken wrecks, were out of reach to him, before. Now they're just a swim away, and somehow, moving around through the water with nothing but a bunch of colorful tentacles below the waist is a much easier adjustment than slithering over land with a snake's tail. He's never going to look particularly graceful, though, hoisting himself over the side and into the next half-floating vessel, to start rummaging.

Or - start to start, before realizing he's not alone. ]

Oh. Sorry. I didn't realize this one was already taken.

[ He's trying to have a sense of humor about his situation, when it's not making him angry or horrified. But that's also the usual. ]

iv - wildcard

[ throw something else at me or plot w/me @gravejuice! arcade can also be found sheltering overnight in the convoy while the shields are down, and will be willing to accompany others exploring the power plant. for the first half of the month/prior to getting the full merfolk treatment, he'll also still be cold-blooded, so too much time in the water/the cold room in the plant will potentially result in him being noticeably lethargic and seemingly ill. ]

1. Gas Station

[It's dark, the rain coming down in sheets as Maggie stands outside her truck, staring at the gas station and the bodies hanging from the roof. It feels like a familiar story by now. One group kills another group, and were they right to do it or wrong, who knows, but in this case, with bodies left on display, her inclination is to believe that those she's looking at are the victims; especially in a world where bodies left behind means more monsters loose to prey on everyone else.

The grisly display feels too much like theatrics, and she hates it more than she will ever care to talk about.

Maggie sighs, and pushes her rain soaked hair back from her face. She can't leave them like that. There's the potential danger of monsters erupting from the husks, and some of them already look close to that point as far as she can tell with the limited experience she's had so far. Besides, god knows she wouldn't want to be left like that either if it was her.

She moves through them methodically, one by one, cutting down a husk, stabbing it in the head and moving onto the next one.

She certainly won't complain if someone chooses to help.]

2 - Power Plant Part 1 - Regrets

[The plant looks old and ill-maintained, but it's hardly a shock under the circumstances as Maggie creeps quietly through the seemingly abandoned corridors. While between the flying puffer fish, and the creatures swimming in the water beneath the unstable bridges certainly serves as a pretty effective deterrent, inside so far seems fairly quiet. It doesn't stop her from keeping her proceeding with caution through the partially flooded corridors in an attempt to draw as little attention to her presence as possible.

Maggie doesn't notice the change in her own reflection at first; she's not paying that much attention to it, and instead focused on what lies ahead and any potential danger that might be lurking nearby.

She freezes immediately when she glances down at the water. The dark, angry eyes of a boy who looks like he is probably no more than fifteen glares up at her from under a mop of unruly dark hair. He is clutching a brick in one hand, shovel in the other, looking like he's about ready to try to take on the entire world, Maggie herself included, if need be. She can practically hear him snapping at her to get off his damn back for once.

It's a trick of the light, she tells herself. Or her imagination playing tricks on her. It's fine, she's fine, and she's certainly going to ignore the pang of grief the sight of the boy brings bubbling up to the forefront of her mind.

It's not like Hershel is here. She would have found him by now if he was somewhere in the convoy already. No, her only child is safely home in The Bricks where he belongs, that much she is certain of. Probably just as furious with her as ever.

What she wouldn't do to be right back there with him right now, trying to figure out how to fix their fractured relationship.]

3 - Power Plant Part 2 - Cold Room

[Even the handle on the door is cold compared to the partially flooded corridor, and it takes a couple attempts to force it to turn properly and pop the door open.

Especially with being soaked from trudging through the power plant, the cold goes bone deep and Maggie can see her breath in the air as she exhales with a shiver.

She can see the component on the other side of the room, partially imbedded in a frozen sheet of ice.

Of course she should have expected retrieving wasn't going to be that easy, between the risk of slipping and falling on the ice, and the need to chip the component free.]

Damnit... All right... Watch your step, I guess.

4 - Don't Drown

[Sometimes the only way forward is through. The reflections on the water look like something out of painting, from deep blue, to red to the starlight that reflects off its surface at night. It's not lost on Maggie that there's good odds that also means it is incredibly dangerous.

It's with an abundance of caution that she wades into the water, trying to make her way to a spot on the shore of the river a bit further upstream where a boat lies washed up against the rocks. She holds her arms out to the sides to keep her balance, she's careful about where she puts her feet, and she's careful to keep an eye on the water for any sign of movement that might indicate that there is a threat lurking beneath the peaceful surface.

It's the movement that catches her eye this time. The knife that she's not actually holding shimmers into view in her hand, pressed against the throat of an older man staring up at her from the water with a look of understanding and resignation in his eyes.

Her reaction is immediate, she startles backwards, and when the movement isn't enough to break the reflection, she swipes at it with her hand, splashing water off to the side, but he just keeps staring up at her as his hand reaches up to grasp her wrist to slowly lower the knife.

She swipes at the water again, infuriated that the reflection doesn't dissipate with the first attempt.]

Fuck off!

5 - Monster Shift

[It's probably a bad idea. Maggie knows returning to the power plant to try to help retrieve more of the components to repair the shield is a bad idea, but towards the end of the month, she's willing to make a second attempt to help get the generator fixed so the Convoy can get moving again.

The rickety walkway to the power plant she is traversing feels even more rickety than the last time, and she grips the rusted railing on either side of her tightly with both hands as the metal groans threateningly under her feet.

She doesn't dare look down at the water as she feels her heart pounding in her chest.

One of the Blugu floating lazily above spots her and dives, and instinctively she dives herself to avoid the quills it launches at her.

The walkway shrieks in protest and the metal twists and gives way under her weight as she lets out a cry of alarm. She manages to barely grab onto the railing, kicking at the empty air as she tries to pull herself back up. The Blugu dives again and she loses her grip completely, plunging into the water with a splash.

She doesn't see the form her reflection takes this time, but she still feels something pull her under deeper, and she's sure she is about to drown when suddenly she feels a change wash over her. Her body shifts and changes in ways that shouldn't be possible, bubbles of air rising in front of her as she tries to fight the sensation. There isn't time for her to make sense of it, though, or worry about lasting effects just yet.

The seal propels herself from the depths of the lake to breach the surface with a splash, sucking in a deep breath of air. The movement is enough to catch the attention of a Diver, swimming lazily just under the surface nearby. She quickly dives back under the water to flee, the monster in hot pursuit of what its hoping will be its next meal.]

6 - Wildcard!

[Bring your own adventure, or plot with me via DM or over at

troubledblues for something else!]

Edited 2025-06-09 01:35 (UTC)

[Ruby was just exploring when she caught sight of Blake surfacing from the water.

That was definitely a big shift right there.

Ruby can't help but snort.]

Look- I knew you liked tuna, but this is ridiculous.

[Ba-dum tish.]

Really? Did just getting in there do that to you?

"That didn't hurt, did it?"

[Sure, he's uncomfortable with tight spaces, water filling up the hallways, and those... Things he keeps seeing flit through the spaces. But it's hard not to turn his attention to Blake when she gives that pained noise.

Akihiko gives a cautious glance inside the room, but he doesn't see anything that immediately raises alarms. Just some ruins, and some sunlight, which he frowns at. Nothing that looks like it would cause damage.]

"I can check in there, if you want. It looks better than that cold room, at least."

[His ears give a violent twitch at that. Whatever else has changed about him, cold temperatures and him still don't mix.]

[Jeez. Sights like this really reminded Ruby of her time traveling out to Mistral. It was not uncommon to come across entire towns that had been overrun by monsters or bandits. It's something that always made her feel a little hollow inside.

She shifts and quickly moves to help out.

Taking out her large scythe and using it to more quickly reach up to some of the husks and cut them down.

Eventually she'll shift her gaze over to Maggie.]

You uh- look like you've done this once or twice before.

[Normally Donnie doesn't mind the rain, but when it's this bad out, he'd prefer to enjoy it when he's well out of it. Unfortunately he hasn't found much to use for cover, and having wings does limit his options. The wings themselves do however serve as some cover themselves, but being soaked and effectively grounded makes him even less comfortable about being out.

And then there's this place.

A gas station is always a promising place for scavenging, but he's had second thoughts once he's made out the forms hanging there, suddenly not as eager to go. And yet here he is, miserable, wet and growing ever anxious. But at least there's cover from the rain. He shakes out his feathers, eyes lingering on the graffiti'd ground as his expression darkens, but upon Zack's touch, he nearly jumps two feet, eyes literally brightening in the dim light with his surprise.]

Oh my muffins why did you-

[The winged turtle cuts himself off as he looks at the phone before glancing back at Zack after the message.]

...wait. Akechi told me about this.

[He casts a grim look towards the hanging husks.]

Touching them does...weird things, breaking them might loose a monster on us. But playing whatever music comes up on the phone will release the dormant spirits within.

I. Unshielded

Donnie's been anxious once the shields had gone out. His legs and feet have been aching and after what had happened the last time, he doesn't look forward to what that likely will herald.

He's never kept the greatest of sleep schedules to begin with, so being up at night is hardly anything new, but he's far too restless to be working on projects, the usual reason he neglects to sleep normal hours. The usual comfort of the Turtle Tank's familiar surroundings isn't doing it for him either, making him feel oddly claustrophobic. So outside he goes.

It feels...so much better out here, and he takes wing, the first chance he gets. The air smells of rain, the moon, or what's left of it anyway, peeks through the clouds. It's invigorating up here, deceptively peaceful that one could almost forget the entire situation they've been thrown into. Here in the skies is like another world...

-but he can't go too far. Donnie shakes his head, coming to himself as his eyes fall upon the Convoy, distant and tiny below. How high has he flown? He should probably head to lower altitudes, but while he's awake and up, he supposes he may as well make the best of it by making sure nothing else takes advantage of their vulnerability.

Patrolling. Yes. That had been his plan all along.

II. On Approach

The sleepless nights have led to him more or less conking out in the daytime as they head out to find the equipment they need to repair the generator. He's still rubbing the sleep from his eyes when they do arrive at the old power plant, but curiosity and interest chase away whatever remnants of it there may be.

"Oh, cool..." Old-fashioned, but fairly reliable. He's built backup generators for their home that are powered by similarly, so he's excited to see one in use for something bigger.

The bridge looks less than stable, and while the Turtle Tank had an aqueous mode, he's not sure if it functions, given that a lot of his other special installations have been absent. Not that they need the Tank anyway for something like this. Right?

In any case, it's an excuse to fly, and fly, Donnie does, easily catching a breeze and circling to keep an eye out on whomever else is actually taking the rusty walkway. He's also keeping an eye on a few strange spiky, floating fish that are making their approach. "I'm not sure that's a good thing," he murmurs, his musing interrupted by the unmistakable groan of protesting metal, which effectively has him looking back towards the bridge at the Drifter below. "-careful!"

III. Exploration a. Water Water Everywhere

"Well, at least it looks relatively cleaner than the sewers," Donnie can't help but comment to the Drifter he's tagged along with. Wandering around such dank, flooded places isn't really anything new for a mutant turtle. "Smells better, at least." At least he won't have to worry about trying to get unpleasant scents out of his feathers, but he still dislikes it when they get wet.

He frowns as the water down this particular corridor is notably deeper, nearly to his knees. "That's...reassuring. Think we'll have to start swimming soon?" That's meant to be a joke but he can't help but wonder as he pushes forward. "There's a doorway further down," he points towards the dark end of the hall, not noticing as his reflection in the waters starts to change.

It doesn't...seem like anything unusual, or it wouldn't if it weren't for the fact that the turtle's reflection is missing his wings. Instead he has some kind of armor over his soft shell, but something's raked its claws into the metal leaving deep furrows.

III. Exploration b. Electricity

It's not surprising that there's still power running through the place, and Donnie's just amazed that they haven't gotten electrocuted. ...not that that isn't still a possibility. On the up-side, at least it isn't a lake in here?

"Okay, I think that's what we're looking for," he says, goggles lowered over his eyes as he points towards the middle of the room. "Don't suppose anyone's got a lightning rod on them?"

Hey, you never know!

I. Broken Shield | No Better Than Wild Dogs

[ Danse is far from a stranger to keeping watch over a besieged compound with compromised defenses and low supplies, or to insisting on doing more than his share of the guarding. At least this time he doesn't feel like he needs to blame himself for getting everyone else into this predicament, and the water around him is thus far doing him the courtesy of not reflecting back the faces of the dead who might not be if not for his incaution as a commander. (But it will.)

It's not a coincidence that he keeps the longest shifts when the moon shines brightest. Were it not for the subtle tug of it, he would be quicker to realize that keeping watch with no armor and no ranged weapon isn't the soundest tactical decision he's ever made. (But he does still have weapons, his body whispers to him. The moon wants him to use those weapons.)

He doesn't, no matter how increasingly easy it might feel to give in and stretch those bestial muscles and let himself become that thing again. He takes the desire as all the more proof that he needs to discipline himself. When he sees a fellow sleepless drifter who looks more capable of fighting at a distance, he approaches, wolf ears pricked up and weary shadows under eyes that look faintly, brightly yellower than they usually do. ]

Do you have time to help me with a perimeter check?

[ It's part backup, part accountability to make sure he keeps those lupine instincts under control. ]

II. Monster Shift | This Isn't the Navy, You Know

[ "This is why the Brotherhood travels by air and not by sea," he said. "When you carry this much metal, you tend to stay away from water," he said. "Why swim, when you can walk?" he said.

Anyway, now he's a fish.

He's resigned to it, mostly, having already seen it happen to others before wading in to bring it upon himself. It seems the kind of sacrifice one has to make for the greater good, in the name of being useful in an area like this, so on, so forth. He just kind of hoped that the river would have somehow sensed noble intentions and not given him quite such undignified fish parts, like the crooked and strangely mechanical-looking flashlight attachment sprouting from the top of his head and now dangling in front of his face like bait.

A good deal of his time is spent inside the plant, hunting for generator parts and anything else that might conceivably be of use to the convoy. A fair amount of his other time is spent at the bottom of the lake, staring at the writing carved into those rocks as if trying to commit it all accurately to memory--he's found a pen somewhere in the common room and he's trying to copy it onto his arm, but it's not working so well underwater, and his eyes are glowing as vividly, digitally yellow with frustration as the flashlight at the end of his head attachment, blending in with the local bioluminescence.

Wherever a section of road gets really spectacularly washed out, he can be found collecting the flattest pieces of wood and least-rusted sheets of metal he can find, doing his best to make a passably sturdy bridge. It is not really a one-merman job, much as he might try to make it one. Not that he's always shy about soliciting help, as he might swim up to anyone he sees being particularly idle before the generator is repaired and ask sternly if they're doing anything to help get it up and running.

Once he's done as much as he can toward that effort, though, he can be found some quiet evenings near the fishing spots, trying to figure out how exactly to make it work with a stick and a string, tail dangling into the water as he sits at the edge. He always has wanted to try fishing. It just...works a bit differently back home, where everything in the water is either dead or horrifically and violently mutated. When it works at all. ]

III. Sonic Cry | I'm More of a Country-Western and Bluegrass Fan Myself

[ Under any other circumstances, Danse would be fascinated to explore an old opera house, the way he likes to poke around old amphitheaters and concert venues back home and wonder wistfully aloud what it might have been like to listen to a performance there.

Now, the very fact that he's wound up here against his will after being caught up and spat out by an underwater current puts a definite damper on his enthusiasm about the place, let alone the fact that he doesn't trust that monstrous thing for a second not to try to eat him if it gets the barest chance. "Ignore it and it'll ignore you" is not a principle that generally works on carnivorous mutant megafauna back home, and Danse does not trust it to work here either.

It's all he can do to evade the whirlpools himself, though he does what he can to pull back anyone else he might see beginning to get sucked into the vortices. He's just trying to piece together those little snatches of explanation in the bubbles, but each softly-singing one that passes him by makes it harder and harder to swallow the urge to add his own voice to their chorus. He isn't entirely sure why.

But the one thing that does make sense is that command, when he hears it. It's similar enough to the Brotherhood rhetoric he's accustomed to that it resonates as emotionally as it does physically, and he turns to anyone who'll listen with a decisive nod. ]

It's true. With technology like this at our disposal, we can easily take that abomination down.

[ Already, the machines are charging up again. Danse's voice carries well. It's just...that kind of voice at the best of times. ]

IV. Wildcard

[ If you've got ideas for anything else, go for it here or hit me up at layonmacduff! Danse will be sleeping in the regular convoy sleeping area all month when he rarely has before now, and he can be assumed to be anywhere in the lake or rivers or in any room in the power plant if you want to say your character has run into him there. Let's get fishy.

(Artwork above is by Duke, who plays Deacon!) ]

Edited 2025-06-09 09:16 (UTC)

Danse doesn't know what the Blugu sound like when they get hit, but from his convenient position in the water nearby, he knows what Deacon sounds like when a stream of sedative bubbles finds its mark. He can hear the clang and clatter of a body collapsing to the walkway, the rusted metal beginning to sag slowly into the water in turn and tilt Deacon's unconscious head below the surface.

As fast as the tail and fins allow Danse to swim, dodging the other hostile things in the water slows him down to the point where he's terrified he won't make it over in time. Deacon might be a deeply suspect individual, and Danse might still have a whole brahmin's worth of personal and professional beef with him, but damn it, he's--

Well, he's not someone Danse wants to see drowned in a lake, that's for sure, even when that wolflike pack-bonding instinct has been washed away by the aquatic changes overwriting it. He hauls himself up onto the nearest part of the walkway that hasn't collapsed and drags Deacon out of the water, laying him unceremoniously out on the approach and trying to manually pump some of the fluid out of his lungs.

"Damn you. Come on."

It isn't enough. Despairing, and shoving away any thoughts of the unsuccessful times he's had to do this out in the field, he repositions himself--far harder to do with the slippery fishtail, not ideally made for trying to gain purchase on a narrow metal walkway--and bends over to breathe air into Deacon's mouth while he keeps up the compressions.

A: Pit Stop (gas station)

Normally, Leo doesn't mind rain. And he's excited to see a gas station again, because it's a chance to replenish his snack stash; something that's become especially important to him ever since his most terrible at taking care of himself brother landed here.

But of course this place had to be creepy and covered with husks. Eugh.

Currently he's standing just outside the canopy, not concerned about how wet he's getting. He has his arms folded, looking at the building.

"Well, I was gonna see if they have Takis, but..."

Seeing this many dead bodies is probably not great for his brain development.

B: Shields Down (convoy)

Patrolling at night is something Leo has become accustomed to, given that he has such a hard time sleeping and... well, lately, being out in the sun hasn't felt the best. Like it makes him sleepy, sapping him of energy.

So it doesn't even register to him that anything is unusual as he grows restless at night, driven to prowl the edges of the convoy, on the lookout for monsters or any other threats.

But as the moonlight passes over him... well, even with his cloak covering the worst parts of his broken shell, it's still clear Leo has changed. Exposed bone peeks through the ends of his fingertips, and his face is gaunt, skin clinging to him like it's been left in the dryer too long.

Man... he could really go for some kind of snack... but why does he feel drawn to those around him when he thinks that...

C: Power Plant A

Well, at least this is familiar! Half-submerged tunnels, dank and dark and echo-y... It feels just like home!

"Man, you know," he says conversationally to whoever he's walking with, bare feet sloshing through the water, "I never thought I would miss tunnels, but now that I'm back, it feels right."

Maybe it helps that they're shielded from any sun here.

D: Power Plant B

The room is frozen over. Normally that would be a bad thing for Leo, especially dressed as sparsely as he is, but right now he feels strangely comfortable. He's not sure if that means the hypothermia has already set in, or something undead-related.

Probably the latter.

He tries to push that from his thoughts as he looks around, surveying the icy room.

"Alright, sooo..." He blows air between his lips in a raspberry. "Anyone bring an ice pick?"

[[OOC: I'll match format so feel free to switch to brackets if you want.

Leo's Grave Touch is starting to come in for prompt B, so be aware of that if your character gets touched by him haha. He won't suck out enough to kill anyone, though... probably.]]

Edited (I forgot my OOC note bleh) 2025-06-09 16:30 (UTC)

[ Zack knows about the monsters and the weirdness, by now (how couldn't he?). But the music - he lifts his phone, holding it briefly up to his ear, listening. That tinny melody is still coming through, inexplicably, and he nods emphatically, fumbling for the volume. ]

How do we get them to hear it, though?

[ Even turned all the way up, the music isn't exactly coming through at full blast - and the white noise of the rain is a constant overshadowing presence, at that. They'll have to find a way to climb up there and hold it close, he thinks, already looking around for something suitable to push into place. ]

The car— Here, hang on to this. [ Zack thrusts his cell toward Donnie, before dashing out into the rain.

There's a shadow there in the broken down parking lot, an old, overgrown car sitting on four decaying flats. Zack darts around behind it, and after a long pause to take a deep breath and brace himself, he starts to push, his own eyes glowing brightly blue in the dark. It's slow, laborious going, but he's as strong as ever, and with a little huffing and puffing, he manages to shove it far enough for the car's roof to cut just under the overhang. Not a perfect stepping stone, but it should get them close to the husks without having to risk accidentally touching one or spawning a monster. Hopefully. ]

There's a reason Deacon prefers a battlefield with a bit more cover. He's not sure what it is that eventually takes him out (likely a sneaky bubble from behind), but it hardly matters when he's suddenly so drowsy that he feels his legs crumble beneath him and then he's suddenly dreaming of floating in space.

Talk about worst fucking nightmare. Nothing more open than space. Nothing more stomach-churning than looking down and seeing an ity-bity world beneath him. Did he just wet himself? Feels like it. Feels like he wet himself all over.

He opens his mouth to speak, but no sound escapes. Nothing. He can't breathe; which like, obviously, SPACE and all, but this really isn't how he thought he'd go.

Then, something is pounding at his chest. He hears a voice. Is that... Danse? Something bright behind his eyelids. A mouth on his, inflating his lungs like twin balloons. He chokes, coughing up water as his eyes crack open and through his blurry vision, the only thing he can make out above him is a glowing monster-shaped creature. A mangled noise leaves him and he headbutts (mouthbutts? let's not use that word...) the creature, it's fangs catching on his lip until there's a trickle of blood and Deacon is scrambling backwards, nearly slipping into the water again. No-- he's slipping into the water again.

There's a splash and while he's definitely awake this time, his body is still in the act of gasping for air, which he's surprised to find isn't a problem. He sinks lower into the water, looking about himself on high-alert, but in his panic, realizing he can breathe just fine. What the fuck. There's just one problem: He's not the best swimmer in the world. That'll happen when taking a step into water usually means soaking up enough rads that a ghoul would consider it a spa-day. Oh, and he has no idea where he is...

[Donnie hadn't actually considered if there was any more to it than simply playing music within their vicinity, but Zack's got a good point. Even with the volume up, Donnie can barely hear the music himself, over the rain.]

Wh-

[He fumbles with the phone before clutching it to his plastron, gaping as Zack goes rushing out into the downpour. Even with his sharper eyesight it's hard to make out things beyond the curtains of water coming down, but he can see where Zack goes and it doesn't take him long to figure out what the man might be thinking.

It's impressive, really, that he manages to push the thing on his own, especially when all its tires are in such a condition. The turtle steps back to give more space before looking up at the hanging bodies again. He still can't help but shudder at that. It's...awful.]

That should do it.

[He pulls his eyes away from them, stepping towards the car, sweeping away some of the excess water with a hand before he hops up onto it. There he remains crouched as he eyes the distance between him and the husk.

Donnie glances at Zack before he slowly stands, keeping his wings tucked tightly against him as he holds the phone up closer to the hanging body.]

Well, here goes nothing...

[OOC: ONLY ONE PROMPT. ahahahahahaha]

Free Barbecue, Mid Repairs: cw dead monsters, eating dead monsters

[Every night, every time the Convoy parks for the night, Heat goes hunting. Agni's appetite is voracious, and he saw no reason to not indulge when the opportunity arose. Hungry predators outside the perimeter simply find hungry predators within, and the resultant fights have been nearly nightly. He's not the only one prowling around, either. With the shield mid-repairs, and Heat no real skilled hand at mechanics of this sort, he's decided to do something else with this rare, rainless evening.

And he's returned about an hour after sunset this time, drenched in blood that's probably not his, scoured the Convoy for rope, stole a tow strap, and disappeared into the darkness again. This time when he comes back, it's in Agni's shape for the needed leverage and strength, dragging by the stolen tow strap a mostly intact blue-skinned dead monster some might recognize as an elphadunk. Conspicuously quite a bit of the inside bits are missing, and probably not left out in the brush and watercourses for scavengers to pick off. But it's the man and not the two-headed form of Agni that sets to finish what he'd started.

There's definitely a goal in mind when he sets to scrounging downed wood from the environment to make a fire - a thing he's not used to doing MANUALLY these days but still recalls how - and then begins setting up an array of sticks, stolen grills, clean sheet metal and the like around said fire. Hacking off bits of the dead monster is a messy affair, but it's not like he can get bloodier.

The smell of cooking meat is a deliberate but unspoken invitation. Those working on repairing the convoy aren't going to have time to go do their own hunting.

Heat's forgotten about - or doesn't even think about things that could improve this .. such as spices, or vegetables. But it's a start. Hungry?]

[ If only there were fish in here. Sigh. Unfortunately, no, there just seems to be something big lurking at the bottom, which Blake has been keeping a very wary eye upon. ]

I was sitting by the lake when it-- drew me in.

[ Blake grumbles, and makes her way closer to loop her arms over the platform Ruby's own, elbows braced on the concrete. She's kind of... stuck. She doesn't know if she's going to turn back and be able to walk out of here, or if she'll have to drag herself out. The latter doesn't sound fun. The former might take a while. ]

There's something in the water. I'm not sure it's dangerous, but it's singing.

[ Blake looks back over her shoulder, and points out a whirlpool across the ballroom, bubbles lifting from it with melodic sounds. That's been happening periodically; Blake's just been trying not to get caught in them. ]

Did you find anything useful in the power plant?

It won't hurt you, I promise.

[ Because-- well, Blake's not actually sure what Akihiko's turning into. He's got animal ears, though Blake can't figure out exactly what kind. And then there's the lightning magic, but if she remembers correctly, he already had that, it was just getting out of control here.

Whatever he's turning into, she hasn't heard of a weakness to sunlight in anything other than vampires. So.

She grimaces, and points at the beam of shifting sunlight. ]

Pretty sure I just became allergic to sunlight. It's a vampire thing. But I'm pretty sure there's some spare parts on the other side of the room; they might be useful for trying to fix the convoy, if you can get them.

[ Blake doesn't really eat these days. She can, if she's recently had blood, but food doesn't really taste like much anymore, so she usually doesn't bother. It still smells good, though, so she finds herself following the scent of cooked meat.

She has to admit; she's impressed this guy managed to take down one of those elephant things. They'd looked pretty tanky.

For a moment, lingers at the perimeter of firelight, uncertain. She thinks she might be intruding. But he's roasting a lot of meat. Surely he's intending to share and not eat all of that himself, so, strangers must be okay to approach. The second problem is that the scent of blood is so thick-- it's everywhere, overwhelming, threatening to drive her into rabid hunger.

Blake takes a deep breath, and shoves her hunger down. It's a constant battle, but she just fed yesterday on a monster. She'll be fine. ]

I can help you prepare the rest of that. [ She nods at the rest of the elephant thing, the parts still with skin on, untreated. ] Looks like a pretty big job just for one person.

[ Someone was drawn to observe. Whether at the convoy or at the kill site. But Vincent hadn't approached then. He'd left Heat to work, not even disturbing the corpse when it was abandoned to fetch towing equipment.

Even if he hadn't let himself be visible, that didn't mean he hadn't been felt. But that presence disappeared again until after the smell of cooking meat filled the air. The man in the red cloak returns, heralded only by the soft clatter of metal plates shifting against one another to the pace of his footfalls.

Vincent is much more open this time, dropping a makeshift sack on some shockingly unbloodied surface; the smell from within conveying the moist, earthy scent of aquatic plants. A variety of edibles from several species; watercress and cattails, lotus and a few other things. Roots, leaves or young and mature shoots. Probably some spice-like plants and fruits and berries as well. After all despite the prevalent water feature, there were a few other useful early harvest finds. ]

Looks like you could use a bath.

[ He's... noticed the blood soaked everything that Heat currently represents. Vincent is dry as if speaking as a cynic but also carefully indifferent. And careful to keep the lower half of his features hidden in the high collar of his cloak. The regular rain doesn't seem to have bothered him much. ]

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JUNE EVENT LOG

GAS STATION GALLOWS: REPLIES

no subject

SecUnit/Murderbot | The Murderbot Diaries | Swarm

Deacon | Fallout 4 | Fae

blake belladonna | rwby

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zack fair | final fantasy vii

arcade gannon | fallout: new vegas

Maggie Rhee | The Walking Dead: Dead City

Drowned Song

Power Plant Exploration

Gas Station

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Donnie // Harpy

Paladin Danse | Fallout 4 | Zoanthrope

don't fall

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Heat | Digital Devil Saga

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