route666rp | JUNE EVENT LOG

Entry tags:

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 | Flat

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.

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.

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)

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)

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)

[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?]

Broken Shield

[Sleepless nights? Vulnerable Convoy? Possible chance of monsters around every corner? Look. This was the kind of stuff Ruby lived for, trained for, and had dedicated her life to. She was quick to volunteer to do patrols throughout the night.

So if anyone is wandering around there's a girl with silver eyes, dragon horns, and a very large scythe/rifle walking around whistling to herself.

Every once in awhile she'll point a finger gun at some one coming by. (Using an actual gun would be dangerous.]

Halt, State your business!

Power Plant: Exploration (Bone Room)

[Look. On a normal day. Ruby would be incredibly weirded out by the room filled with sharp bones. And to tell the truth, she still was! But she had managed to look on the bright side and hand collected a bunch of the metal husk bones to see what she could fashion them into at a later date.

She's still holding too as she and has decided to start drumming them against the walls, and anything else she can see to try and see how they sound.]

Oh man~! Do you think if I practiced enough? I could start a band?

Don't Drown

[Look. Like with the oasis Ruby was going to take any safe opportunity to take a breather and relax. When they came across the river she figured it would be a great time to do that.

This time however isn't quite as fun as the last time around. She eventually catches on to that fact that her reflection paints a very different picture than the one she presents. Her reflection looks tired, battered, with sunken tear stained eyes. She doesn't look like she's slept in days. Ruby frowns and gives it a splash, but it remains.]

Oh. Gross. Worst reflection ever.

Wildcard

[Feel free to choose your own adventure of hit me at jjabarrett on plurk or discord to plot something out.]

I. Gas Station Gallows

Of course Jack brings his radio up to the gallows to free those poor souls. Of course he does. Even if it's dangerous, it's worth it. He approaches with caution, but maybe not enough caution, depending on who you're asking.

He mostly doesn't disturb them into turning into monsters. But maybe he does disturb one, and needs rescuing as he scampers around the gas station in an attempt to avoid being hit by the former husk he'd failed to free in time.

II. Boast Salvage/Gone Fishing

Jack is fairly nimble when it comes to balancing on unsteady and unstable boats, and jumping to safety when it seems like something might shift away or crumble under him, so whenever there's a boat in decent enough condition drifting close enough to the shoreline, he pulls over and leaps across to investigate.

He also pulls over now and then when he smells or hears something in the water, and tosses out a fishing line he's scraped together from the shore. He'll catch up with the convoy after he's caught something. There will be fried fish a couple nights for anyone coming by his van.

There are reflections in the water, both from the boats and from the shore. He doesn't shy away from the werewolf glowering back at him, or the silver-haired girl who stares at him with huge brown eyes and a betrayed expression. He will, actually, talk to them, as if he could maybe make them understand. He can't, but they're still company, sort of. Anyone coming by might hear, "I'm sorry, mija." Or maybe, "Growl all you want to, you are just an illusion."

III. Rainstorm Changes

During one particularly heavy rainstorm, Jack is trying to get back to the convoy from his van, the half-finished coat he'd been working on held over his head, when suddenly he is not actually Jack the mostly-human anymore. He disappears under his coat, which
pools around him on the wet ground.

A fox nose pokes out from under it, and he cries, exasperated, "Oh, not again!" At least he doesn't feel like vibrating out of his skin or running in circles, perhaps that's only windstorms?

He'll try to drag his poor coat through the rain back in the direction of the convoy, and paw at a door until someone lets him in.

IV. Power Plant Exploration

Jack sticks to rooms and hallways that are unflooded. He's seen what happens to people who get submerged, and he is very uninterested in turning into any kind of fish person. He is also more wary than he probably even needs to be, because he doesn't want a repeat of last month's hospital, where he almost got caged for not being human enough.

Find him staring at a pool of water in his way, considering how best to get across or go around it without getting too wet, or watching the flickers of electricity in the electric room to gauge when and where it's most likely to strike, aiming to make good use of his supernatural dodging skills to get across it to where the part they need is.

I. Gas Station Gallows

Jolie stops well back from the gas station, climbing out of her Oldsmobile to look at the grisly scene with a slightly horrified expression. It slowly starts to turn angry. "That's barbaric," she says out loud. "You don't hang people. You don't-- it's awful."

She'll do what she can to help them, with the music, without disturbing them enough to break the husks.

II. Don't Drown

Jolie doesn't need to be pulled down into the river. It's a river, and she's missed swimming since the oases, and she's already parked and wriggling into her swimsuit in the back seat as soon as the convoy settles down for the night. The plants around the water sound happy, so she doubts it's poisonous or anything.

She doesn't even immediately notice the reflection of a younger boy in the water before she just dives right in.

And comes up with a little shriek at the sharp pains the sudden changes cause in her. She tugs her hair free from the fins now protruding from her shoulders, the gills in the side of her neck, and starts gasping now, as well, as her body tries to work out which set of breathing systems it should be using. "What the hell, what the hell, oh my god what-- why are my fingers webbed!!"

She doesn't wind up with a mermaid tail, at least, so she can drive, but for the rest of the month, there are claws and webbing on her hands and feet, a sheen of green scales over much of her body, gills in her neck, and a ridge of flexible fins down her back. She hates it, thanks. Walking is uncomfortable, she can't wear a shirt and has to keep her swimsuit on instead, and she definitely can't wear her shoes.

III. Power Station Exploration

Jolie is used to the fish form now, at least, so she doesn't bother with the unsteady walkways to get to the power station. She just swims it, keeping an eye out for other people who might fall through, and then heaves herself up and into whatever doors are open above lake level.

The she finds the most underwater passages and swims through those, too, winding up first in the bone room, where she starts picking through the sharpened implements in search of something she likes, figuring she's not going to turn down free weapons. Picking her way across is going to be harder, in search of the components the convoy needs, and in the end she might just wind up frustratedly summoning water from the corridor outside to wash as much of it away as possible.

cw: blood, corpses, vampire coded things

I. Shields Down, Monsters Out

Vincent does laugh internally at it all. Another day, another monster. And this one seems a fitting addition; he'd all but possessed its appearance out of legends and tales anyway and pretty much expected it once the sun had become something of a bane.

Well, he wouldn't complain too much about the sun. Didn't really like it but at least it doesn't burn. Once the fangs grew in and the blood hunger started, the man wasn't sure if how natural it felt was a side effect of this world's monster instinct or because he was just used to it by now. Another sliver of his humanity, gone.

Vincent had learned to move forward again, but his body was still...

Yet he still hadn't become a monster that would tear into his allies. Thus he took his hunt to the quiet shadows of the night, to 'patrols' which were patrols but would take down monsters and let him feast on their blood. Which thankfully they had enough of the right sort. Blugu and Forneus were the best for now. Elphadunks were... not exactly impossible to kill, but knocking one out long enough to drink was the opposite of quick and silent.

Which means most of his meals were necessary kills for one reason or another. Convenient, these monsters. Not wanting to leave a drained corpse to worry people- or is it that he doesn't want to have to answer questions?- means hiding the bodies. Sometimes, he just discards the corpse in the nearest body of water. Yes, as long as there had been nothing else around, it was easy enough to let the local monsters take care of the evidence. They often did so with gusto.

Other times he might bring it home after after cutting up the meat- a process which would largely call for exsanguination anyway- and discarding the parts with evidence. The Blugu anyway. People... probably wouldn't like the Forneus as meat. And someone already brought back an elphadunk.

But for all his care- and Vincent is definitely good at hiding bodies and being careful not to be found with the evidence- that doesn't mean he won't be discovered or caught one way or another. Maybe it's the increasing nocturnal pattern - even if he's seen awake during the day. Maybe a glimpse of the fangs when the moon's thrall didn't have him so clever at hiding the signs with the high collar of his ever-present cloak.

II. Don't Drown

One evening, Vincent will be caught off guard. ...Maybe off guard. Who's to say how much he's aware?

It's a shallow part of the river. Some out of the way bend or... doesn't matter. The former Turk seems to have resisted the temptation of plunging deeper or maybe he didn't dare presume to move closer in hopes of a clearer view of something he know had to be an illusion. It couldn't be here. Wouldn't be here no matter what this world was.

Yet as if perfectly reflecting something that actually doesn't exist on the far bank or above the water's surface, there is the image of some crystaline formation. A cavern ceiling. Periodically it's interrupted by drops of rain. To some it might just be odd crystal formation. Others may recognize it as a formation born of mako.

But no one here (yet) would probably recognize the actual location but for the dark haired gunman.

Well glowing rocks or maybe some portal to somewhere else. It's hard to say anything other than it means something and enough to Vincent Valentine, the usually aloof and indifferent Drifter, that he's sat on edge of the water, arm draped over raised knee and simply stares into the water as if entranced or lost in such deep and distant thought as though to be thoroughly unaware of his surroundings.

Someone who tries to approach quietly may find he doesn't reaction and they have an advantage.

One who lingers too long may well find that he is probably a bit more aware (eventually) than he's letting on; they'll be called out to.

"Whatever you're waiting for, ask. Or leave me be."

III. Boats

Balance is something the man rarely loses. Anyone that saw him moving around the gravity zone last month will be familiar enough with his antics that there shouldn't be too much worry seeing him move from boat to boat. Usually during the early evening; the lack of light doesn't seem to particularly trouble him one way or another.

But rather than loot and leave, he seems to be moving with a similar methodical practice that he'd used to clear the raiders from the thornscrub or the hospital that following month. With one addition; when it's possible, he brings the boat to secure firmly to the banks so that it doesn't drift beyond the capacity to return to it. Others are welcome to help or take advantage; at least this time he doesn't feel territorial.

He might have grabbed many personal things; the usual firearms and bullets that are his favorites for instance, but there's also other useful items that have been stacked on the banks to be taken back to the Convoy in general or sorted through by others. Vincent might be keeping his distance but there's evidence that his efforts are not for himself alone.

IV. Wildcard

Vincent will also help with fetching parts for the Convoy's shield generator or staying behind to protect home base. Is it because guns and underwater don't mix? Well... no. Not really; the gun he prefers to use is from his world and it's a bit more weird and robust in places it shouldn't be. But there are a lot of Drifters who might have already fallen prey to the mermaid effect of these waters and he'd prefer to avoid that himself.

Maybe. Let's see how the month goes.

He will also bring back various roots, aquatic edible plants and 'fish' and will be doing a lot of avoidance of people while he's trying to understand the limits of his new hunger; though during the day he'll be found at regular hours in his 'gun shop'. HMU if you're interested in something here or have your own prompts to tag into!

A. Gas Station - CW for referenced suicide

[The sight of those corpses makes Akechi's stomach churn. Limply dangling there like...

Her.

He turns away, suddenly nauseous, while that melody plays from his phone.]

That confirms it, then. They truly were human once...

[But no matter. He holds up the phone, feathers clearly ruffled and scorpion tail whipping like that of a disgruntled cat's. His tiger-like ears fold back. His hand lightly trembles.

Those used to Akechi may wonder why he's so... shaky, compared to his typically composed demeanor or explosive rage in battle.

Though subtle, there's a hint of something more vulnerable here.]

The next time I see those Wardens, I will make them wish they were burning in hell...

B. Broken Shield

[Akechi can't sleep. There's so much on his mind. Ren's... feelings, his own... But that's "small potatoes" compared to the dangers at hand.

The shields are down. Their safe haven is now no safer than the landscape surrounding them.

Not everyone here can fight, but Akechi can.

And so, he perches atop the Conmvoy, saber in his left hand and his gun holstered on his belt. His lips curl back, sharp teeth bared, and his back arches as he watches for threats.

Sometimes he flies overhead, casting ominous shadows made more daunting by the horns on his head and the barbed tail.

Other times, he circles the Convoy on his motorcycle, restless and jumpy.

He doesn't sleep much. In fact, those close to him may have to convince him to rest.

It's too risky to rest.]

C. Power Plant Approach

[Akechi is not a Merfolk. He's a hodgepodge of corvid, big cat, horned beast, and even scorpion now, but no matter. He has work to do.

His wings make crossing the bridge easier, not only for maneuverability, but for his control of the winds, which sharpen to blades and cleave through the puffer fish. He could leave them to rot, but hunger and restlessness propel him to five and ensnare his prey in his talons, dropping it on the bridge.

Unfortunately, it dissolves into energy before he can indulge in his hunger. His feathers fluff in irritation, but... no matter. There's more where that came from.

He can't lose track of his goals, anyway.

Should any others dare to travel on foot, he'll regard them with a sharpened glance.]

I'll watch for enemies. Keep going.

[It's pertinent that they get to the bottom of this, after all.]

D. Power Plant Exploration - transformation CW

[It's getting wet, but Akechi's come too far to turn back. As he wades through the partially submerged waters, his feet start to throb, and he stops to remove his shoes, however wet they may be, and throw them into the backpack he scavenged from one of the cars some time ago. It's a good thing, too, as his legs start to shift, bones rearranging themselves. Unlike the tiger paws he'd gained during the very first moon warp, his legs take on a more equine appearance, with golden hooves, while the exoskeleton of his tail cracks, giving way to something more... aquatic in nature. It's long and eel-like, with zigzagging, black and white patterns like dazzle camouflage that glow in the darkness of the power plant.

Akechi leans into a wall, grimacing in pain and wobbling from a lack of balance. Digitigrade legs are already different enough, but hooved feet lack the digits of paws, leaving him on more wobbly foting.]

...I'm fine.

[He has to be. He can't slow down now, and so he presses on, one step at a time...

Unfortunately, the surrounding waters ripple with haunting imagery.

A ship's engine room. Akechi's own human face grinning back at him, gun pointed at his chest...

A woman in a lab coat with black hair and golden eyes begging for her life...

The sickeningly smug grin of a bald man in orange-tinted sunglasses offering a hand to shake...

What looks like Ren, bruised and beaten, at a table in a dark interrogation room...

Akechi's eyes fly wide open, and he freezes. The nightmare was one thing, but this...]

No!

[Foolishly, he tries splashing one of the images away, but in doing so, his fingers start to throb. He's forced to remove his gloves as webbing forms between his taloned fingers.

His feathers fluff up anew. All those feellings, laid bare...

And it's too late to turn back.]

E. Wild Card!

[Open to other prompts as well! Feel free to hit me up in PMs or on Plurk at

Dorked, or just wing it. I can do prose or brackets.]

02
Levi never slept much so with the shield down his nights haven't really changed that much. He patrols the area around the convoy, mostly towards the outside, keeping an eye (and ear) out for anything out of the ordinary or moving. Normally he just does this with his rifle on his back (and concealed handgun), but since the sheild broke he's started carrying his kassara for closer combat (and to save ammo).

Aside from trying to get a few hours of sleep shortly after the convoy stops every night, this is where Levi can be found after dark until the shield is fixed. And probably after it is. He's not sure he'll ever stop being a soldier.

04/Boat Salvage *possible content warnings, see below
The cars held supplies in them, so it stood to reason that the boats would too. Levi doesn't really know how to swim, so he picks a battered looking thing that's not too far out. His rifle's been left by his bike, but he's got his satchel held to his chest as he wades into the water. The boat looks to be out far enough for the water to go to around his waist. He's not sure if he can climb inside it when he gets to it, but dragging it back to land shouldn't be too hard, right?

Gone Fishing
Eating the same monsters and small game was getting old, so Levi thought fishing seemed like a good change. So he can be found sitting on the edge of a bridge, dangling a crappy fishing pole over the edge of it. His dog ears have been replaced by horse-like ears and his legs are a blueish-greenish color, ending in hooves with a fin near the back. An old can with wiggly wormy things with in it and his catch sit near him. Assuming he even caught anything edible...so far he's only caught one (are its eyes following you? It can't be) and he's...not sure about it. The weird amalgam animals seemed safe to eat so they were worth a try, right? He was far from a picky eater.

But since he wasn't the only one who he was seeking to feed Levi looks up as someone passes by. He's removing a fish from the hook as he asks. "Do you think we can eat this?"

???
Wild card, hit me up at

connectivetrick or nvrknwsbst @ discord or just throw something at me.

*04 CAN contain Levi's content warnings but only if you're okay with it. Please let me know if you are, otherwise he'll just get lucky(?) on the reflection end.
The most likely content warnings for that are Child Soldiers, general warfare and death of said children.

As always, I'll match whatever style people want to use.

Don't Drown

[Edward is the potent combination of bored, frustrated, and terrified. The frustration bubbles up from wanting to help, but being unable to do so, which leads to the boredom of being left behind and feeling useless. The terror is easier to trace; things are changing all around them, and Edward usually has no idea what, exactly, is happening. He's not foolish or selfish enough to expect anyone to linger around and explain it to him, so he's spent long hours near the convoy, hoping whatever magic surrounds it will keep him safe, or at least a less likely choice for any attacking beasts.]

[He feels the convoy go over bridges, and can smell the water, though. At one point, when they stop, he ventures out to the water's edge and crouches to touch it with his fingertips.]

[It feels cool and silky, like the lazy river that wound through his family's property back home. It conjures memories of swimming, and before he knows it, Edward has removed his boots and slipped into the water.]

[He wades out until he's waist deep, trailing his hands over the water's surface. Unbeknown to him, the water all around him is flickering with scenes from his life, from the war: the tortured battlegrounds, mud and barbed wire as far as the eye can see; the air thick with bullets and shells; long hours spent staring at walls made of earth. There are other images there too, mostly colours, never quite taking shape: the figure of a faceless man, the only parts of him well-defined being his hands and arms; a faceless woman, shifting and morphing with only her hands solidifying; a second man, with no shape to him at all but the harsh, barking yellow of his voice. They surround Edward, swirling around him as he stands and turns his face towards the sky.]

Illuminating Light

[Edward has changed, transformed by the waters into something else. He doesn't question it; everything about this world feels like a dream, so he follows the dream logic of it all and accepts the sleek tail where his legs used to be. It's better, under the water; he's quickly learning that the water is full of images, if he simply clicks or makes keening sounds in the back of his throat.]

[He can also hold his breath for what feels like eternity, and dives down to the bottom of the lake to linger in the shadows. Once he's down there, though, he finds the carvings and traces them with his fingers, trying to memorise them so he can draw them back on the surface.]

Rain

[The constant downpour and squalling has Edward in a foul mood as he hangs out near the convoy. He stays close to a bonfire, shivering and miserable under a damp blanket.]

Is anyone organising sandbag teams? We should be thinking about that in case it floods.

[Power Plant Exploration - Boiler Room]
If there's one thing Professor Stein knows a thing or two about, it's power plants. He's designed a power plant. He can only hope this one did not also use nuclear power; he doesn't relish the thought of dealing with that in disrepair. Getting over to the boiler room has been an exercise in clinging to handrails and making incredibly slow progress over those rickety bridges. He's remaining incredibly on guard and cautious in this strange new area, and while he does start poking around the boiler room, a blast of scalding steam sends him running for the door. "That was a close one!"

He has completely failed to notice that his head is now on fire. Sure, it's just his first visible sign of transformation, but this is perhaps cropping up at an inopportune time.

[Power Plant Exploration - Cold Room]
Martin's now aware that his head is on fire--this is fine, he's fine, he's...probably too used to the concept--and has gone to explore another room. Everything is iced over, everything is frozen, and damn if that isn't pressing all his get the hell out of here RIGHT NOW buttons. This is not his first time being surrounded by oppressively cold, all-encompassing ice with his head on fire, actually. "I...I don't think I'm particularly suited to help in here, after all."

Even if he could, you know, possibly thaw something...with his head.

[Power Plant Installation]
Nothing to do here but find someone else who's already working on this mess of a project and offer his expertise. "What can I do to help?" This, this generator assembly, this is something he feels like he can do some good with.

He's just going to try to pretend those jars aren't there right now. It's hard, but there is something remotely scientific and within his wheelhouse at play here, and that will have to be enough.

broken shield.

[Ren’s instinct is and always has been to protect other people, so it’s likely no surprise he’s out patrolling the Convoy perimeter after the shield goes down. He’s not sleeping much anyway, so it’s not out of his way to spend his nights awake and alert for danger.

He’s friendly enough, so he’ll welcome any company from like-minded Drifters who might choose to join him in guarding the perimeter. Or, if he happens across an established patrol, he’ll be content to tag along with the other party. There’s safety in numbers, after all.

Ren’s not one for endless small talk, but he’ll speak up on occasion when he has a relevant observation or question. For example:]

Do you know if anything like this has happened before?

gone fishing (eventual don’t drowning).

[Even without his Third Eye sense, Ren’s had enough practice to get pretty good at finding useful things. One of his early scavenging trips in this area nets a pair of fishing poles in good condition, and he adds them to his inventory.

Fishing solo can be relaxing, like a kind of meditation, but it’s also a good opportunity to meet more of his fellow Drifters and strengthen bonds with those he’s already met. He expects to be here for quite a while, after all. It only makes sense to make an effort to get to know the others.

And people do need to eat. The Convoy’s food situation isn’t dire, but it can always be better. As long as the local fish are safe to eat, they should make nice meals.

Whenever the rain isn’t too heavy, Ren searches out a friendly face to accompany him on his fishing excursions. If he doesn’t seem to be interrupting with his approach, he’ll hold out one of the fishing poles to offer with his invitation:]

Wanna come fish with me?

wild card? wild card.

[Want something else with Renren? Hit me
up (PM/plurk @ gothmoth) or just have at it here. Happy to do prose or brackets.]

”it’s time.” (for akechi)

for akechi: i hope you know what you’re doing.

[Finally, the time has come for the rematch Ren promised Akechi many months ago.

So much has shifted between them since that first fight. They’d both been lying to each other then, circling each other like the proverbial cat and mouse; now, they’ve both thrown away various masks they used to wear around each other. They are more than simple rivals now - they’ve fought against each other with higher stakes and side by side as allies to save their world. Ren lost Akechi twice, only to find him again in Revan, alive and changed for the better, on his own terms.

It’s a rare clear day when Ren’s ready to fulfill his promise and drives his van out to meet Akechi for their rematch. There’s an empty spanse of land far enough away from the Convoy to suit their needs without causing concern or drawing too much attention. Ren parks the van and saunters over to meet his opponent. The glasses are gone from his face; instead, he arrives wearing a wide, manic grin - Joker’s grin.]

So, for this dueling tradition in the West - now that we’re here, am I supposed to throw your glove back at you?

[He can, if needed. Ren still carries the glove in his pocket, after all.]

It’s my first time, I wanna be sure I do this right.

Edited 2025-06-13 15:02 (UTC)

i. POWER PLANT EXPLORATION - HALLWAYS
[It's not that Knives is any more enthused about helping the Convoy than he's been since the beginning. If he had the luxury of choice, he'd prefer they forgo the shield altogether to progress at speed, and anyone who gets taken down by monsters is a sacrifice he's willing to make. That said, even he realises the practicalities the shield provides for some short-term delays, so he finds himself wading through submerged hallways. Ignoring the whispers he can hear down the hallway -- the dark-haired woman in white he sees, sometimes, reflected in the water, watching him in silence. Finally, he snaps at her.]

Are you going to hound me everywhere?

[She doesn't reply, only smiles at him sadly, and he strikes the surface of the water to scatter her image into countless ripples.]

ii. POWER PLANT INSTALLATION - CLOSED cw: graphic murder, violence
[Later in the search through the ruins, the room that Knives finds makes him stop dead in his tracks. Floor-to-ceiling jars full of humans, and to those who might have seen it, eerily reminiscent of his dream. Here, though, his eyes are drawn to the Husks, heads cut open and brains missing, then to the still-intact humans. The message flickering on the monitor: Engaging emergency sleep procedures. We may never wake, but we need to try.

His expression darkens, and he immediately has other ideas: to keep the handful still intact now is to invite more trouble later. His bladed appendages emerge from his back, smashing through the glass to kill one of the humans, piercing through their brains, their hearts, their lungs, any vital organ that could reanimate them into something else. Even when the alarm sounds and the laser defence system kicks in, beats of his angelic wings has him nimbly avoid getting hit, so he can continue the clinical effort of destroying the contents of each jar one by one.]

iii. MONSTER SHIFT - MERFOLK cw: drowning compulsion
[It's sometime later as dusk sets in, after the pitched battle and emerging from the ruins, that Knives opts to take a dip in the river to rinse off the blood from the battle. He's able to hear the local plants, now, which had offered cryptic warnings about the water, but even a cautious dip to his waist is enough for something to snatch him under. He can't drown -- his kind is made to survive in water -- but all the same, he resists the force trying to drag him into the murky depths, thrashing and lashing out with his blades until it lets go.

When he swims to the surface, though, his legs have been replaced something else entirely. His wings are absent too, shed away with the current as if they'd never been. He hauls himself onto the shore, staring in disbelief at the rapidity of his transformation. There's an urge, too, at the back of his mind, like a persistent itch, that it shouldn't just be him, that he should drag in others too, hold them under the waves until--]

--If you have any sense, you'll keep your distance. [He says icily when he realises someone is watching him nearby, sinking back into the water to better hide his form.] Unless you wish to join me.

iv. WILDCARD
[Write your own starter! Note the second prompt is a player plot approved by the mods so I'm keeping it to closed threads, but if you'd like in on it, feel free to hit me up at

moonsilver or on my ooc plotting over here! Otherwise, feel free to write your own threads where Knives has tripped the alarm system and aggroed chromehounds, Husk monsters etc. for your characters to deal with.]

Threaded | Flat

GAS STATION GALLOWS: REPLIES

SecUnit/Murderbot | The Murderbot Diaries | Swarm

Deacon | Fallout 4 | Fae

blake belladonna | rwby

zack fair | final fantasy vii

arcade gannon | fallout: new vegas

Maggie Rhee | The Walking Dead: Dead City