JULY EVENT

[monstertruckers]

code

Ahead of the Convoy, a city perches on the flatlands with a hazy mountain range beyond. But there’s no glow of activity as evening draws in; no lights in the windows, the streets, or even from a stray car. And soon it becomes clear that the entire city is in ruins. Husks line the streets like spilled metal beads, contorted in poses of pain and terror. The buildings have chunks taken out of them, barely standing. With various streets winding through the city, there’s no shortage of things to explore.

And things NEED to be explored, as the Convoy comes to a stuttering halt outside a skyscraper. While the shield and electrics still work, the Convoy itself can’t move. A quick glance at the screens shows that the new shield is draining a lot of power from the engine, and needs time to adjust and recalibrate. About several weeks worth of time.

01: URBAN WARFARE

Between the Zolom attack and the brain swarm, the Convoy has taken a few knocks. It’s a similar story with many vehicles. At least here there’s no shortage of parts and materials for repairs.

And then there’s the matter of the monsters and the cyborgs. The cyborgs see clear wear and tear, and the machines in their bodies seem to be the only thing keeping them going, and hunting monsters. As for the monsters, they carry plenty of wounds and scars inflicted by cyborg weapons and traps. Both groups prowl the streets, clashing and fighting whenever they encounter each other with single minded ferocity. Strange gargoyle-esque lizards called Iguions prowl up and down the buildings or burst out of Husks. Their skirmishes damage the city even further, with crumbling buildings and broken glass.

And none of them look tired of fighting, with how they react to Drifters.

01-A: URBAN SALVAGE, OIL

1-A: Oil Pumps
It seems the Convoy isn’t the only thing running low on fuel. Various cyborgs and robots litter the streets, the lights in their eyes fading as their power runs down. A few of them may try to spit sparks or take shots at Drifters, but that seems to break them down even further.

Some cyborgs have a little more juice in them, and are trying to harvest fuel from oil pumps. These oil pumps grow out of the city… Often literally, as they are located on buildings and grow from the sides. It’s in defiance of how gravity should work, not to mention geology, as they continue to pump up fuel for the taking. Given how the Convoy is running low, it might be wise to harvest those tanks.

If Drifters can figure out how to scale the buildings and reach those tanks. There’s the climb up the walls, along with the proximity mines and razor shards the cyborgs have set down. There’s also an odd glow to the fuel tanks, reminiscent of the moon, though that’s probably just a quirk. And same with the cyborgs harvesting the fuel and exploding; probably just another quirk.

01-A: URBAN SALVAGE, METAL

One might wonder where all the cars are, given this is an abandoned city; the answer soon becomes clear as more roads are explored. There’s vehicles sunk into the roads and pavement, like the ground turned to liquid before freezing into place. If any Drifters opt to explore the subway beneath the city, they’ll find that the cars are sticking through the ceiling… And currently melting and forming pools of sheet metal.

The metal itself is curiously cool to the touch, and can be sculpted into parts for the Convoy.
And somehow, that isn’t even the strangest thing. The bodies here grow more numerous; robots and Husks alike, which are arranged and frozen in a way that makes it clear a battle happened here. The Husks themselves have the remains of more ornate clothing… And occasionally still find the strength to burst open. There's also still cyborg hands clutching guns, and they occasionally twitch from either a husk burst or a skip in the cyborg programming and let out a splatter of bullets.

01-A: URBAN SALVAGE, TIRES

Compared to everything else, investigating broken shops is a little easier. The only cyborgs and Husks here are all broken down and burnt out; navigating broken glass and a few old bear traps and proximity mines is the major issue.

Food, assorted retail, is all still available in these shops. Though there is one shop that appears to specialize in tires. Or at least used to: now it specializes in piles and nests of tires and odd trinkets, strewn about all over the store front. And while Drifters could easily grab some new tires (or odd items) for the Convoy or their vehicles… There is the matter of the blue reptillian shape moving through the mess of tires and giving off sparks. A young and scrawny Behir appears to have hatched from the Husks and made its lair here. And doesn’t want to willingly part with its hoard.

02: MOON CALL

Drifters have to contend with a few more problems in the city. And one of them is changes brewing in their own bodies. This grows worse at the middle of the month, as a Moon Warp tears through the city.

Buildings twist like living things, roads undulate and flow like rivers, causing things to sink into the surface. Some parts of the city don't hold up to the strain, and introduce the hazards of falling and collapsing buildings.

The Convoy remains a safe haven during this, allowing Drifters to shelter during the worst of the Warp. Though during the Warp, and after it subsides, there's a new addition to the buildings: Statues of hellhounds and gargoyles alike dot the city. Normally such sculptures don’t have glowing beacons normally fixed to their mouths or in their claws. Those who get close enough to the glow experience symptoms similar to a Moon Warp. Complete with two monster forms to prowl the city.

02: MONSTER SHIFT, GARGOYLE

Those afflicted with Gargoyle can access to all Gargoyle species traits plus:
+Night Activity: Symptoms increase during night and Drifters feel lethargic during daytime.
+Summit: The statue beacons also produce a strange call to Gargoyle Drifters. This call usually involves climbing up buildings with new claws strong enough to dig through stone, and attacking those beacons. The beacons explode into a storm of wind to knock Drifters free from the climb…
+Flight: But Drifters can find themselves growing wings capable of flying or gliding. Which is just as well, since the city can turn various passages into wind tunnels.
+Summit Pull: Gargoyles can feel a pull upwards, to the top of the buildings. The various statues fixed to the skyscrapers offer a roosting place, fit for observing potential targets below.
+Protection: Gargoyles feel a compulsion to protect the Convoy and other Drifters nearby, particularly against threats looming in the city. Guarding them against danger becomes a priority.
+Light Sensitivity: Gargoyles are sensitive to bright lights and total darkness; both of them can draw more changes out. Unfortunately there are flashbangs in the form of traps lingering in the city, ready to trigger a fast shift.

02: MONSTER SHIFT, CERBERUS

The afflicted will have access to all Cerberus species traits plus:
+Ravenous Drive: With extra mouths and muscle, there’s also a powerful hunger and a need to hunt and consume any prey a Cerberus can find.
+Graveyard Synergy: if a Drifter encounters large amounts of dead Husks or cyborgs, their transformations increase. They also hear voices from the dead, but the words are fragmented.
+Sensory disorientation: any frantic movement, bright lights, or loud noises cause a sensory overload, if the Drifters are growing extra eyes/ears/etc.
+Depth Draw: There is something in the subways drawing Cerberus afflicted. It’s a combination of moon shards in the tunnels, as well as the masses of Husks down there. They emit a call that’s difficult to ignore, and demands investigation. Even if it’s to break or exorcise things for silence.
+Doom Echo: Drifters may hear echoes of violence from other Drifters: either their fellow Drifters are turning violent, or something unpleasant is about to happen to them. It can be difficult to distinguish which is which.
+Pack Loyalty: Cerberus feel a compulsion to bond with a Drifter or a collection of Drifters as their pack. They may feel they are the pack leader, or treat another Drifter as leader. They also feel an intense loyalty and protective streak, determined to carry out the will of other Drifters.

03: SUBWAY

Eventually, Drifters are drawn to the subway, whether by Cerberus traits, protective compulsions, or just plain curiosity. And what lurks in the tunnels is going to require a lot of Drifters.

There’s a few tattered subway maps left on the walls that Drifters can use to navigate the tunnels. The tunnels themselves are large: large enough for most cars to fit in, though they may have a bumpy ride down the access stairs and tracks! The tunnels themselves are also rife with Husk monsters. It’s clear that various citizens ran down here to try and escape the chaos aboveground, but still became Husks. These can burst open to show mutated rats, ratmen, and worm-like Varghidpolis.

Those with Doom Echo active will hear voices pleading, directly beseeching Drifters for a way out and a release from where they’ve been trapped.

03: LABYRINTH

Gradually Drifters are led into the deepest reaches of the tunnels. Paradoxically, it only gets brighter, the further they go. It culminates in a massive chamber underground that looks like someone plopped a cathedral in the middle of a subway tunnel. In the center of the chamber is a massive moon shard: one more than capable of causing a Warp as Drifters get closer.

On top of having to deal with forced transformations, there’s also phantom shapes rising off the Husks. They plead with Drifters for release and mercy, trying to rise up… But it’s clear there’s something stopping them.

That something is a strange mechanical ring circling the moon stone, laced with wiring and harshly carved runes. It looks like the work of Wardens, and their seal of a sword piercing the moon is stamped into the binding circle. The phantom voices scream for it to be destroyed; and with all their abilities, Drifters should be capable of destroying the ring.

…Though there is one more thing standing in their way.

03: CY-CERBERUS

The Wardens have left a few of their machines down here, in the form of Chromehounds. They haven’t escaped the Warping effect either, and have fused into a giant three headed cyborg dog.

A set of screens around the ring flicker to life and begin to relay text, and the rails that run through the chamber crackle with electricity. The text reads off the mantra of the Wardens, with a few additions: “Purge the corruption brought by the moon mad. Anyone altered by the touch of the moon must be cleansed and removed, lest the world fall into ruin.”

While the Cy-Cerberus is imposing, it appears to have a weakness to electricity; directing it onto the third rail can deal some serious damage to it, and weaken it enough for more monstrous characters to tear through. After the Cy-Cerberus is dealt with, the ring it was guarding can easily fall apart, and the moon stone in turn crumbles to glowing dust. The screams of the Husks dims, as their spirits released from their prisons, before drifting upwards and towards the exits of the subway. It’s easy enough to follow them back out, and leave the labyrinth behind.

04: SUMMIT

Gargoyles and those bonded with them, or those with a head for heights will find themselves drawn towards a large skyscraper dominating the skyline. The very top glows with bright light, making it clear that another moon shard is fixed to the summit. This building can be scaled either externally or internally.

Rather worryingly, the moon opts to glow bright at this point, and the higher drifters climb, the more they are affected by a low-grade Moon Warp. This one is not as strong as the Warp that occurs in the middle of the month, but can still make parts of the building shift and change around, and draw out transformations.

(Drifters might also run into new arrivals, as this is also the location of this month’s Test Drive Meme.)

04-A: CLIMB

External:
Between the bullet marks and the weathering, it’s easy to find claw holds and slowly scale up. Broken windows also make it possible to jump inside and outside of the sky scraper, to vary one’s ascent. The other constant is the stone Igueon statues dotting the outside. As Drifters draw close, they come to life and act like a stone swarm defending the building.

Internal: (CW: Meat buildings with teeth) The interior is far more claustrophobic… And fleshy at times. Networks of veins line the walls and ceilings. It’s almost like the building is alive. Or possessed. And that theory gains more credence, the more Drifters climb to the upper floors.

Teeth start to grow in doorways, sharp edged and ready to draw blood. The building sometimes gives the sensation of traveling into a throat… And there is also the Husks merged with the walls. While they may try to burst open, those monsters can quickly become absorbed by the upper levels of the building.

It’s advised to travel in pairs, to avoid becoming another part of the scenery.

04-B: APEX

The summit of the skyscraper is a bit unconventional. Rather than a simple tower or the like, it looks like a temple has been set down. There’s scrolls that have merged with columns that reach skyward; some of them broken, but many of them standing. And on the columns still legible is writing:

“Woe to the moon, to the madness fostered. The world frays without the guidance of the lost God. If we must be broken, let us shatter the prison in the process.“

There’s one last thing lingering in the center of the altar; a statue of a person growing out of a gargoyle’s torso and a Cerberus melted together. On the bottom of it is an inscription: “Those who reject the Moon’s blessing pay the price in blood and identity. Leave your tribute on the claws.”

Drifters can offer their blood to the altar and gain a vial containing a rejuvenation elixir. This can undo one transformation, but requires Drifters to sacrifice one aspect of themselves: it could be a memory, or a personality trait, or simply a large quantity of blood that leaves them weakened and lethargic. Drifters will only be able to regain this aspect on the next month.

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.

Car Trip: Fast cars are capable of doing both events! And tough cars can sweep the streets for traps, easily tanking flashbangs and even proximity mines.

Scars: The city is clearly scarred from many battles and calamities. Moonstones are embedded in the buildings and statues, bullet holes trace through the buildings… And in the case of the main skyscraper, draw blood from that building.

Cross Fire: On occasion, Drifters will find themselves in the midst of a battle, with vestiges of monsters and cyborgs fighting each other. They are both clearly weakened, and are focused on each other rather than the Drifters; such battles can either be avoided or won… Just watch out for stray bullets and monster attacks.

Traps: The cyborg hunters are running on autopilot and broken programming code. The same can be said for their tools and traps; locations holding valuables frequently serve as bait, with snares and foot holds carefully hidden amongst broken parts of building. These traps are designed to heavily wound or outright kill… Though with all the moon shards littering the city, the effects have a 50% chance of instead triggering changes in Drifters.

NAVIGATION

Comments

SecUnit/Murderbot | The Murderbot Diaries

[serialmurderbot]

1A Urban Salvage: Oil

They don't usually work like that.

[It's said like a question, but from the way SecUnit is standing at the base of one of the buildings and looking three stories up towards the oil pump jutting at a forty-five degree angle off vertical from the side of one of the slumping buildings, and the even more wild angle of the tank that's clearly been set up to siphon off of it.]

Right?

[But... that's also not going to stop it. SecUnit reaches out to press a hand against a nearby length of exposed girder and shove experimentally at it. Time to climb.]

03: Subway

[SecUnit is standing at the foot of what once had to be a destroyed escalator, next to its idling ATV.

It's been standing there for... some time. Not that anyone descending after it would know with the way its head snaps around towards the light of the street above the moment there's the shuffle of feet. It doesn't raise its energy weapons or the rifle held in both arms, but its eyes fix on the person descending, scanning briefly over them before flickering away in its usual fashion. It's wearing its usual - dark jacket and pants, and the facemask that mostly conceals the strange shape of mandibles against its jaw. But it doesn't do anything about the economical way it's moving, or the hum that overlays its voice, lending it a doubled quality.]

Hold.

[It turns away again. It takes 2.7 seconds for it to finish scanning the Corridor (the way it should have been, instead of standing there like an idiot, Murderbot. Why are you like this?)]

Clear. If you're going to insist on coming we should proceed with caution. [A beat, and this time, even the static-hum of the transformation-induced voice can't quite hide the strain.] Someone's down there.

03B: Cy-Cerberus

Too many fucking mouths.

[That's all the pronouncement SecUnit has about this asshole, before it throws itself headlong into the fight. Or rather, guns blazing, trying to be smart about this. It doesn't literally go for the mouth to shoot down the cyborg-creature's throat.

It ends up doing that anyway, when one of the heads reacts too fast, or SecUnit reacts too slow, and the jaws close around an elbow (It's always the same fucking arm. Usually it gets shot in the hip or the leg and that's what fucks it up, but what is it about this place that always goes for its arms? Also: Ow.)

It doesn't make a sound, doesn't open its mouth, but the buzz builds into a pitched feedback squeal sharp enough to make the Cerberus yelp - and to hurt the ears of anyone in a four-meter radius, while they're at it.]

Wildcard

[It's a miserable fucking month, which means that SecUnit keeps circling back to the center of the Convoy, and the couches. At least once a day during their enforced pause in the city, it can be found sprawled on one of the Common Room couches, arms (or arm and a half, by the end of the month) crossed over its chest and screen propped up on one of the far pillows.

Whatever it's watching, it echoes now and then with a tinny laugh track, with cheerful, poppy music, or occasionally with the intense, thrumming soundtrack and raised voices of a dramatic scene. It's not turning down the volume except, begrudgingly, when the others might be sleeping. But that doesn't stop it either. Any Drifters who wander through, whether nocturnal, restless, or trying to tell it to stop, have a chance to catch a glimpse of its screen.]

[OOC: As always, if you'd like to avoid Bug Stuff or some of the themes that come with Murderbot, please just drop a comment in my opt out! Also this month SecUnit will be getting the Cerberus traits of Pack Loyalty and Doom Sense, so if none of the above prompts speak to you, it can and will follow people to different parts of the city or Convoy to guard them from whatever threat it's sure is going to emerge there.]

3B

[undyingcrow]

[Akechi could do something flashy, something explosive, but with SecUnit drawing the beast's attention, that gives him the opportunity to utilize a more... tactical approach.

The buzzes from SecUnit make him grimace, ears folding back. His cat-like ears make him all the more susceptible to sounds of all sorts, and even if he changed forms, that fact would remain.

For now, he sticks to the chimera form he's accustomed to. Grunting through the pain, he mutters Hereward's name. His Persona materializes with a solemn nod.

Akechi gives a simple, cold command.]

Debilitate.

[So much venom in a single word. It's a wonder he isn't rushing forward to maul.

But the resulting spell, crackling with dark energy, should hinder the enemy in more ways than one. Weakened attacks, weakened defense, lower speed and evasion.

With luck, it'll buy SecUnit time to land more attacks without that painful buzzing.]

wildcard

[taediosum]

[ Arcade is definitely of the restless persuasion, and not because of anything new in the environment. He's a habitual light sleeper, prone to not sleeping at all, some nights, simply by nature.

He usually avoids the Convoy proper, for the sake of avoiding unnecessary social interaction as much as out of simple courtesy, for everyone who should be sleeping, at this hour. But he left behind one of the tattered paperbacks he's taken to carting around, in the common space, and so he ducks in intending to retrieve it quietly and move on - until he realizes the room is the furthest thing from quiet, already, the canned, tinny sounds of some probably long gone TV show audience smacking him right in the face.

Rather than annoyed on behalf of those actually sleeping, though, he's surprised enough to forget his reading for the moment. ]

I didn't know there were any holotapes, out here.

Dream wildcard [cw: gore and cannibalism]

[bufudine]

[It's raining.

The environment is completely unrecognisable to the world of Revan, a bleak landscape of broken concrete and rubble and a sky so overcast sunlight does not pierce the clouds. The sound of gunfire and explosions are a loud staccato, their source being from a conflict between two groups of strangely dressed humans, not least of whom is Serph himself. Wingless, brandless, this is from a time before monsters and demons.

A brief moment of reprieve -- tense words exchanged via short range comms -- before a beam of light strikes an unindentified object -- a huge, grotesque blackened egg with pulsing tentacles at its base, so unnatural when contrasted with dust and stone -- and it splits open. From the egg pours rays of light, striking every combatant. And where the light strikes, glowing lines spread over their bodies -- a familiar sight to any who have seen Serph change to demon and back again -- transforming them into monsters.

It's clear no one is in control. Agonised screams tear free from Serph's monstrous throat, the deadly blades within his arms cleavin through limbs and torsos, blood and viscera spattering both on him and on the ground. Other demons tear into each other, including the recognisably red Agni. One demon escapes, having kept himself hidden and slipping away unseen by the others.

It's a massacre. Five demons remain amongst a sea of corpses, Varuna's unearthly howl of victory ringing clear.

But the carnage doesn't end there. Amindst the frenzy, teeth tear ravenously into flesh, bodies devoured, consumed and rent asunder.]

Subway

[propatriamori]

I know.

[Edward stands next to SecUnit, equipped with a retracting cane that Donatello made him. He's holding the cane loosely though, and has his head canted so that he's both listening to the corridor and SecUnit. He can hear that difference in SecUnit's voice, and it makes him nervous.]

I can feel them.

[He's completely discarded his boots at this point, barefoot on the broken glass and grime of the city streets. It's a small price to pay to be able to feel the vibrations coming from under the ground.]

Are you all right, SecUnit?

03

[solitarysoul]

[Levi is honestly not following SecUnit this time. He didn't even know it was there until he gets closer. He stops at the 'hold' and doesn't move until SecUnit gives the clear and he approaches.]

I need to go down there anyway, but its better not to go alone.

[He speaks quietly and has his rifle in his hand and his satchel on his arm. The hilt of his blade can be seen poking out from it but its a good bet he has other weapons and/or ammo in there.]

Where?

1A

[facethefacts]

[ Deacon winces as SecUnit moves towards the oil pump. If it wants to climb for the resource, he will let it and spot them safely from where he stands. ]

Where I'm from they don't work at all, so beats me.

Goro Akechi | Persona 5 Royal

[undyingcrow]

1. Warpath

[Over the past several months, Akechi's hatred toward the Steel Wardens has only festered. Seeing the corpses last month was the final straw that broke the proverbial camel's back.

He's tried to be better. He's tried not to fall back on his old ways...

But it's different.

Before, he killed at the behest of others. He was their puppet. Their hired gun.

So why not turn those talents toward those who slaughter anyone who refuses to join their faction? Why not repay the blood they've spilled with what little blood remains in their mechanical bodies?

Those prowling the city for supplies or out of genuine curiosity may find a worrying sight: A figure swooping down from the shadows, cackling wildly as he calls a black-garbed archer to his side, sweeping through the skirmishes with magical explosions.

Or perhaps you'll find him firing gunshots, skewering Husk monsters with his barbed tail, clawing and biting, or spewing flames from his maw.

The hooved legs from the previous month have given way to white tiger paws that match the feline ears poking from his hair. By all accounts, he's more beast than boy...

Not that he especially cares.]

Die! DIE, you worthless scrapmetal!

[...And yes, he is screaming a lot.]

2. Scavenging

[Fighting off cyborgs takes a lot of energy. Tempting as it is to try and tear through more enemies, Akechi eventually finds himself drawn toward the abandoned shops.

Food, clothing, all perfectly preserved. As he loots through the stores, he carries a large duffel bag in one hand and a backpack on his back with enough pockets to stash a great deal of supplies.

He hovers outside the window of an abandoned clothing store, sighing out smoke as he stares down his own reflection.]

No matter what I claim, it'll need a great deal of modifications at this point.

[His tail flicks in minor irritation, and he stares down at those paws. Digitigrade feet aren't exactly designed for human shoes, but the prospect of going barefoot hardly appeals to him, either.]

Well. Hopefully they'll have something at least decently appealing...

3. The Beast Within (Transformation CW)

[Beneath the unyielding glow of the moon, Akechi doubles over, grimacing and growling as he feels something shift.

It's not an unfamiliar feeling, the way his body grows and swells. His face elongates into a hooked snout. His neck elongates... Heh.

It's the beast form he could assume during that first warp, an odd hodgepodge of feathers.

Jet black feathers like a crow, with huge, feathered wings. Taloned front paws, like a Crow's, white tiger haunches, with a scorpion-like tail and barbs running down his back. The hooked horms, striped black and white remain. Akechi's honey brown hair becomes a wild mane. He's still recognizable enough, despite the quadrupedal stance.

Exhaling smoke, he turns his eyes to the looming statues. His wings beat, and he considers flying straight up there, but...

Before, he could change back. He just had to focus, so if he just relaxes, then...

He shrinks down. His body returns to its more bipedal shape...

And the horns, wings, and scorpion tail retract. Feathers give way to light, brownish fur along his face, with a puma-like muzzle, complete with a pink nose. His feet still look like paws, but without the striped coat, and at first the fingertips in his leather gloves seem rather odd without the crow talons poking through...

Then, squinting, Akechi flexes his fingers. Claws poke out.]

...What the hell?

[Grumbling, he tries again. It takes a few moments, but eventually, his normal Chimera form returns.

So, that's new.

His ears flick at the sound of someone nearby, and he peers over his shoulder.]

I've no idea if that's an effect of the moon, but last I checked, it was impossible to shift into an entirely different type of monster.

[But the cityscape shifts and tears all around them. The road beneath them ripples and shudders...

Hissing, he hovers into the air, ears twitching at all the sounds and changes brought on by the Warp.]

Stay alert.

4. Cy-Cerberus

[It was supposed to be a simple exploration to the tunnels and a duel with Ren. Suffice it to say, all of this comes as a staggering surprise.

Spirits pleading for freedom, tethered to the Husks... Wiring and runes keeping them captive.

Without even thinking, Akechi springs into the air, sword drawn to slice and cleave at those wires, to set the spirits free...

Until that damnable mutt rises to intervene.]

HEREWARD!

[He calls his Persona with a screech. Crackling, dark energy smothers the mechanical beast, weakening it. Debilitate should at least make it easier to deal with, but he can smell others in the vicinity.]

Those self-righteous bastards have a lot of nerve trapping their victims here... Do not try to get in my way!

[More than anything, he's ready to give it hell.]

5. Apex

[Akechi stands calmly atop the skyscraper, eyes scanning the scrolls. The statue draws his attention soon after, and he gives a contemplative hum.

With a slow exhale, his chimera form melts back into the more 'palatable' feline form. He brings a gloved hand up to his cheek, coated with fur, not feathers...

But in another breath, he shifts back. It's the form he's most accustomed to, for better or for worse.]

I see little point in seeking solace from the changes. Such pursuits would only provide a temporary reprieve, and the writing suggests one must pay a price.

[Shaking his head, he turns away from the statue.]

But what do you intend to do?

6. Wild Card

[Feel free to hit me up with other scenarios, too! Akechi will be all over, trying to gather supplies, eviscerate wardens, and find answers.]

1

[xxiis]

[ Kotone's a little surprised to see Akechi lose his composure like this. Her impression of him was of someone calm, in control, intelligent, and thoughtful. It looks like she'll have to reevaluate her perspective on him. There's a lot she doesn't know about him after all. ]

Akechi-san! Let me back you up!

[After taking a deep breath, Kotone gets ready to summon her Persona. In the past, she told Akechi of her power. This is her first time using it in front of him, however.]

blake belladonna | rwby

[andnevermore]

✘ ⸻ urban salvage: metal

[ The further Blake gets into this journey, the more she feels uncertain about where she stands on the issue of the monsters, the cyborgs, and everything else.

At first, it had been easy to kill the monsters. She's spent her whole life doing exactly that. But then the hints had come that the Husks, and indeed the monsters themselves, might have once been people. And then the raiders, the cyborgs; close enough to human that it hadn't felt right to kill them, close enough that she can't help but think of the androids she's known and called friend. Then, it should be their intent that matters, right? But they seem intent on killing each other, and Blake can't say if either of them are right or wrong.

As they stop in the city, she's not surprised to see more of it. Endless fighting. Endless killing.

She finds herself in what must be a freshly ended battle, down a side street where monsters remains are quickly cooling and lights are fading from cyborg eyes. It's night-time-- the only time she can be out, now, with her newfound allergy to sunlight. She steps carefully around a car that's half-melted into a pool of metal, and catches it just in time when one of the cyborgs twitch. Their hand moves, and a spray of bullets fires right at her-- only to hit a shadow version of herself, blurring and fading, as Blake reappears in front of the nearest person, one hand thrust behind her to grab their shirt and haul them down so she can shield them with her body. She can take a few bullets easily enough; most of other drifters can't.

Luckily, no further bullets come. The cyborg's eyes dim, and go out entirely. Blake lets out a breath, letting go of the person's shirt. ]

We should be more careful. Make sure the cyborgs are definitely dead, and then move ahead. We need to keep an eye on the Husks, too. Have you seen anything worth grabbing?

✘ ⸻ labyrinth

[ Exploring the subway had seemed like it might be useful; in hindsight, Blake's starting to regret coming down here.

The rats and ratmen had been gross enough. But as she'd made her way further down, down into what she can only describe as a church set into the depths of the subway, then the struggle starts. Then, the voices start.

She sees the moon shard too late. Blake's been lucky so far; she hasn't gotten caught in any of the moon warps. But for the first time now, she feels it. Her hunger for blood roars to life, a rabid, clutching hunger clawing at her stomach. Her fangs ache with the need to sink them into something. Her bat wings stretch back, arching. Darkness flickers at her fingertips, at the edge of her wings. But she's spent months controlling her appetite, ruthlessly shoving it down and keeping herself well fed with monster blood. It's that discipline that now serves her well, letting her not go crazy enough to jump the nearest person.

That, and she's distracted.

The Husks are talking. Moaning. Crying. Begging for help. And Blake is transfixed. Yang is turning into the same thing at the moment, stashed in the back of her van, asleep and covered in a thin sheet of metal over her skin and hair. And these Husks in the subway, all Blake can see is Yang. Yang, crying for help. Yang, begging to be saved.

With bleary, unfocused vision, Blake finds the symbol of the Wardens stamped into a strange metal ring around the moon shard. ]

We have to help them!

✘ ⸻ climb

[ Inevitably, Blake has had to test out what her wings are actually designed to do: flight.

She's not great with extreme motion. Look, she has four ears and a lot of inner ear fluid to disrupt. But slowly, she's been figuring it out, and it turns out it's simpler than she thought. Her wings take easily to the sky, and once she's there--

Okay, yeah. She gets it. Flying is pretty awesome.

It makes checking out the taller buildings in the sky a lot easier, especially the biggest one. She'd gotten about halfway up and had felt the intense pressure of a moon warp start to kick in, and so, descending down a few levels, she lands on a balcony. The balcony door is nothing but glass shards scattered on the floor, so she steps through. ]

Hey. Anything interesting--

[ Blake stops abruptly when she realizes the doorway between her and the other person is... lined with meat. And teeth. ]

Okay, that's disgusting.

[ Which may seem like a dry understatement, but seriously, what else can she even say? ]

climb

[undyingcrow]

[Akechi stares as well, taking in the subtle and disturbing movements of flesh and teeth. A slight trembling, like breathing...

Repulsive.]

...You know, perhaps I shouldn't be so surprised. I've seen subway tunnels tinged with red and blackened veins.

[But there weren't teeth. It was at least somewhat grounded.]

Paladin Danse | Fallout 4 | Werewolf

[androidvictoriam]

I. Urban Salvage (Metal) | Never Can Have Too Many Weapons

[ It probably makes sense that Danse would gravitate toward the steel, in one form or another. Not that he's ever seen anything quite like this before, and he's not entirely sure what to do with it, but he can imagine someone like Jayce might know.

It's far from the most important salvage on his mind, though. He remembers when the cyborgs had attacked the convoy, how ill-maintained their weapons had been to the point of uselessness, but if these ones are still intact enough to fire, they're in good enough shape for him to use. Were he still in his power armor, those periodic sprays of bullets would have bounced harmlessly off and just rendered this a simple matter of kneeling to pick one up.

As it is, it's tense and tricky and he narrowly escapes a shot straight through the toe of his worn boot, but when he does have the gun safely in hand, he feels more confident and complete than he has in weeks. It's small, not particularly efficient, certainly not his preferred type of giant fuckoff rifle, but this does not deter him from sighing audibly with relief and a quiet "thank god" under his breath.

Now to the issue of the molten metal. He tilts his head at it, a gesture more comically canine than it would be without the wolf ears fixed to the sides of his head. ]

Does the convoy have some kind of...receptacle for this? How do we get it to solidify again when we want it to?

II. Subway | I Don't Plan On Getting Buried Alive Today

[ It's a double-edged sword to be completely unarmored down here, in the kind of ominous crumbling metro tunnel that always sends a deep chill down his spine regardless of the temperature. On the one hand, it makes the tight spaces feel slightly less claustrophobic, but on the other, it makes every one of these husks feel somehow like more of a threat than it would be above ground, raw as his nerves are with fearful sense-memory.

Close quarters means no retreat. He tells that to every soldier under his command. It doesn't always save them. ]

I've said it before and I'll say it again, the first thing that jumps out at us is getting shot in the face. I'm not messing around.

[ He clicks the safety off his newfound gun, and goes suddenly tense and still in the process as a pleading, otherworldly scream reaches his ears, making him feel almost nauseous as it reverberates unnaturally like every sudden noise has begun to do. ]

--Did you hear that too? You must have heard that.

III. Apex | All I've Done for the Brotherhood, All the Blood I've Spilled In Our Name

[ Danse is far more in his element traveling up to the summit of a building than having to descend under the city streets, though as with literally every single other thing about his entire life here, he would be more in his element if he had his power armor. That could withstand a fall from the top floor of this place without so much as spraining his ankle inside it, and he's tested limits like that for fun under happier circumstances.

Nothing about this is fun, and none of these circumstances are happy. The not-infrequent experience of walking into a tall building and finding that super mutants have strung bags filled with dismembered human limbs and organs all along the walls and ceiling has prepared Danse for this fleshy nightmare in the way that playing Zeta Invaders on holotape prepares one for shooting a minigun out of a helicopter.

Nonetheless, here he is at the top. The temple looks like the sort of ruins he's seen and admired in books about the ancient world--the truly ancient world, thousands of years before his time, not what people back home sometimes mean when they talk about the "ancient world" of two centuries ago before the bombs fell. The dried blood on the claws of the statue speaks of nothing good. But he's been complaining about "cultist nonsense" since he got here and it doesn't help, so he keeps that much to himself as he reads the inscription quietly aloud. ]

"Those who reject the moon's blessing--" Some blessing. None of us asked for it. If you can't reject an unwanted blessing, I fail to see how that doesn't materially make it more of a curse.

[ He reads a bit further, frown deepening. ]

But the price they're demanding for exercising personal freedom sounds almost...spiteful. However much we might feel like we're losing our identities as it is, this sounds even more drastic, not to mention less predictable. Do you really want to chance it?

IV. Bonus | Get Some Clothes On, You're Embarrassing Us

[ It hasn't been that much more difficult here than it was back home, to make do with just a few items of carefully hand-washed clothing and simply put up with what damage can't be easily mended. It's just how things are in the wasteland, even if Danse is used to having more backup options than most if his uniform gets really shredded. He doesn't have the uniform here, but at this point, the coveralls he came in wearing are pretty damn beat-up, and his efforts to procure replacements that actually fit his unusually sizable lab-engineered frame have been in vain.

But this place is almost an embarrassment of riches. A shop with clothing like this would probably have been looted to emptiness decades or centuries ago back home, though lucky finds are always still possible. He grabs a couple three-packs of socks and underwear with the attitude of someone finding a fifty-dollar bill on the street, conscientious of leaving some stock for others, and he's browsing the pants selection while keeping an ear out for anyone else. ]

If you want to try something on, I'll stand guard for hostiles and we can trade off when you're done.

[ This to anyone he recognizes as a fellow drifter, either by scent without looking up if they've met before, or after a quick glance if not. Trying on clothes for fit is also a luxury rarely afforded where he comes from, but what the hell, they can all indulge a little. ]

V. Wildcard

[ If you've got ideas for anything else, go for it here or hit me up at layonmacduff! Danse has a Tough truck for potentially disarming traps, and Ravenous Drive, Graveyard Synergy, Sensory Disorientation and Doom Echo active from the Cerberus traits. As above, he'll be in the subway and the skyscraper at different times, so I'm up for doing anything in either of them! He'll also be glad to back anyone up for any kind of monster-fighting or cyborg-fighting. ]

Apex

[undyingcrow]

[One would expect someone who's undergone so many changes to be tempted by the offer to revert some of the changes.

Large, hooked horns sprout from his hair. Feline ears fold back in contemplation. Black feathers cover everything from his face to his waist, though his clothing covers most of it. The large, black wings and back spines, not so much.

Crow-like talons protrude from the fingertips of his leather gloves. White tiger paws stick out against his black slacks. A scorpion-like tail flicks in mild irritation.

And still, he makes no move to draw blood, instead folding his arms.]

I see no reason to try and revert the changes to begin with. Those who have tried eventually changed once more, and until our business is done, we might as well take advantage of the abilities that come with our transformations.

Heat | Digital Devil Saga

[iron_stomach]

i. urban warfare - Post Warp
(and pre-warp, option 2, albeit without the cerberus additions..)

This is something Heat's far more familiar with than forests and rivers and the like; ruined cities are where he's lived nearly his entire existence, shattered and ravaged by warfare. It feels a little bit like finding himself back in the Junkyard, comfortable and welcome.

Familiarity eases some of the relentless grind of strange and uncertain that's been his companion since arriving, and for the first time he's set out to do his hunting not in Agni's crimson form but the gleaming pristine white and gold of the new demon he's been stuck with. He's not familiar with fighting as a quadruped, so this is just practice for him, and through the ruins trots a shaggy unicorn the size of a draft horse, heavy and strong instead of the usual lithe, delicate gracefulness, blood and oil and dirt streaking his muzzle, hide, golden hooves and curved, jagged horn. Not all of the blood is his prey's, but that didn't really matter or slow him down. The only thing that marks him as a Drifter and not one of the savage denizens of this place is the silky orange scarf knotted around the equine monster's thick neck, bright and vivid.

Do monsters wear scarves? The Warp's left its effects, albeit subtle, sharp canine teeth when there should be blunt herbivore teeth, ears closer to a dog's than a horse's, eyes that shine faintly with hellfire and the occasional flicker of flame in each breath, a dark and baleful red.

By all appearances the unicorn's having a grand old time of it too. It doesn't MATTER what Heat encounters - monster, cyborg, whatever, he attacks without hesitation with every weapon this unfamiliar shape has to offer, quite content to rip apart a cyborg with teeth and trampling hooves as he is to ram straight into an iguion foolish enough to get close, horn-first. He still prefers Agni. But this isn't so bad, he had much better leverage to brace against a charred vehicle in his way and shoulder it roughly aside to sniff hopefully after the trail of something freshly bloody smelling.

ii. urban salvage

Heat's plan to make use of all these buildings full of stuff is somewhat hampered by not actually knowing what's useful besides weapons and armor. He's found himself a genuine actual shopping cart, one wheel gone but otherwise fully functional, and while he doesn't know its original purpose he knows he can put things in it, and has gone looking for what might be put to use.

So far he's found an absolutely enormous fuzzy blanket and six or so boxes of snack cakes. He's not sure what the latter are beyond 'probably edible'.

Everything else has been left behind in favor of standing in front of the ruined hunting/outdoors shop, one hand on his hip, frowning. From what he CAN see, it's mostly tents and crap (and so much more than that, beyond the first few rows), but part of him is pretty sure there's useful stuff in here.

"Hey." Anyone will do, really, as long as they have functional hands. Don't mind the shopping cart, or the snack cakes. Probably he'll be getting more things. "Come with me. You probably know what half this shit is." He .. may or may not. If it's useful, he can almost certainly drag it out.

iii. wildcard

[Heat's going to be having a GOOD TIME this month, this is practically like being home! He will be spending way too much time happily rampaging around, scavenging for supplies, attacking anything not immediately recognizable as fellow Drifter, and generally indulging in mayhem. The only locations he will not be willingly found is climbing the upper floors-- hit me up if you want something specific~]

ii

[soldiernoclass]

"Huh? Me?"

Obvious confusion aside, Zack doesn't hesitate to join the stranger by the storefront, peering inside curiously.

"Looks like a bunch of camping equipment..."

Sephiroth | Final Fantasy Vii

[firstsoldier]

Convoy Stop

Once the Convoy had ground to a halt and it didn't seem like they were going anywhere for ... a while, priorities have shifted. This is their territory temporary 'home' as it were, fortifying it against the inevitable wildlife was a priority.

Which is why he's going to flag down anyone able-bodied looking as he heads for the outskirts of where the convoy's stopped.

"I want to fashion some barricades and simple early warning traps if we'll be here a while. Please lend your assistance if you can." He's polite enough about it, he will accept a no.. but honestly it's for everyone's good, isn't it?

Crossfire ... or well, the fire part anyway

It's while searching for useful supplies during the month that Sephiroth came across full blown warfare between wounded monsters and broken cyborgs, savagely tearing at each other as they may have been for years over one of the fuel centers that dot the city. That was about twenty minutes ago, before he began carefully laying out a path of flame with drakonis fiery breath.

Black smoke rises from the wreckage of battlefield, the thick stench of burning oil and burning flesh as easily noticed as the smoke itself, and the blaze consuming the street in hungry running licks of flame, slowly encircling cyborgs and monsters both, the smoke and heat making it difficult to tell what is where. Many of the creatures are still fighting each other, but some have realized the danger of the growing inferno, and the black-clad chimera that patiently stalks it, sword in hand.

Sephiroth's meticulous in his ruthlessness, cutting down cyborg and monster alike as he comes across them one by one, using the smoke and flame as a disguise from the bulk of the fighting's attention to pick off his targets with almost unopposed ease. They were a threat to the pride Convoy, and eliminating them is a favor to the world.

It's an excellent time to get a bit of revenge on the distracted cyborgs, or get in a couple monster kills without too much risk to self, aside from the fire.

Statue Warp Aftermath

Sephiroth can't hide these changes, gleaming argent scales from fine and delicate across his face to thicker and heavier down his arms, back and legs, broad batlike wings of similar color, curling goatlike horns and heavy reptilian tail tipped with a suspiciously rattlesnake looking rattle; it made him look rather like some of the gargoyle statues that have appeared all over the city, forged of silver instead of stone.

Their first victim, his long black coat.

Late into the evening he sits outside his truck against one tire, wings puddled around him uncomfortably, attempting to thread a needle with fingers gone clumsy with thick, long claws suited to tearing stone, not delicate control. His torn coat lay in a mass on his lap, suffering the marks of sudden wing emergence in long gashes down its back. For all his expert control over his emotions most times, there's no mistaking his growing frustration with the loss of dexterity even without the buzzing annoyed rattling going on.

If someone else up this late seems like their fingers remain unchanged, reluctantly he'll try to flag them down.

"May I please borrow your hands for a moment?" He's ..he CAN do his own sewing. Probably. If he can just get the damn needle threaded.

[ooc: will match format.]

aftermath

[undyingcrow]

Akechi approaches with a curious hum. His eyes narrow slightly as he focuses on Sephiroth's hands and, more importantly, the needles. The talons in his chimera form have made finer tasks more difficult, or at least required some adjustments...

But the form he's presently taken, with claws retracted into furred, padded fingers... Well, that's more doable, isn't it?

Perhaps it'll take Sephiroth a moment to recognize him without the horns, feathers, wings, and other dressings. Light, tan fur covers his face, with a more feline muzzle in place of his more human features.

If anything, he resembles a humanoid mountain lion more than a clusterfuck of mixed biology.

"You're in luck. This secondary form makes finer tasks more manageable." Yes, secondary form, as he's come to discover.

So, he'll move closer, offering a hand to take the needle or thread.

Leonardo | Undead (Ghost) | OTA

[faceguy]

A: Home Sweet Home (scavenging)

Leo is a city boy at heart, though this city is nothing like his beloved NYC - at least, not how he hopes to ever see it. Of course, the Krang attack did some damage, and when Leo allows himself to dwell on it, he can imagine it must have been not too different from this in the timeline where they failed to save it - just with much more pink goo.

So Leo tries not to dwell on it too much. Instead he busies himself with helping scavenge what they need to resupply the convoy. Gathering food from the shops, picking up car parts from the piles of scrap scattered around.

Soon enough, he finds himself standing at the foot of a building, looking up to where the oil wells seem to grow out of it like gnarled old branches. He cracks his knuckles and bounces on his heels to shake himself loose before looking at his companion.

"Well, this can't be too hard," he says, his mouth quirking up in a grin that is just a little too wide to be natural, like his skin isn't quite connected to his muscles anymore. "Last one up is a rotten egg?"

B: Platform (subway part 1)

If the city above was like home, this is like being right back in his living room. Of course, it's not at all like that, really; the warmth of the lair, the sound of his dad's shows echoing off the walls, the presence of his brothers as they skate on the old ramp or play games in the arcade, is all gone. Here there's only ruin and mutant rats, and not the kind that make tea and give good hugs and fall asleep after eating cake with milk.

Still, Leo navigates the tunnels easily enough, even while they're still narrow and dark. He drives his motorcycle over tracks and stairs with ease that only speaks to having done this before.

Though when he sees someone else having trouble, whether it's stumbling in the dark or getting their vehicle stuck, he'll pull over and stop, ready to lend a hand.

"Need some help?"

C: Third Rail (subway part 2 - CW for Moon Warp, animal death)

Leo can feel it growing the further they go, and he tries - he really does - to resist. But in the end, the shard of moon wins out, overwhelming him.

Somehow, Leo's cloak seems to have become tattered and threadbare, its rips and holes exposing the open shell of his back, his organs exposed but, impossibly, staying put. The skin on the bottom half of his skull, beneath the mask, seems completely gone, the edges at his throat discolored and rotted. His jaw and teeth are fully exposed, glinting in the light in a permanent grin that Leo can no longer control.

He appears and disappears, gliding through the walls like they don't exist. Sometimes he laughs, like he can't control it, the sound echoing off the walls of the subway. Sometimes he appears just in time to spear a monster through with a sword before it can hurt someone else, and sometimes...

Sometimes he's just crouched to the side, one of the mutated rats trapped, squealing, in his palms. His bony fingers and the sigil on his arm glow, and the rat's squeaks trail away until it hangs limp in his hands. Leo sighs, leaning his head back, satisfied again.

[[OOC: as always I am good with any formatting if you'd rather swap to brackets, and feel free to hit me up at dandywonderous if you'd like to plot something more specific, or just hit me with a wildcard. Leo will be all around the city scavenging so feel free to run into him anywhere!]]

closed to Donnie

[faceguy]

Really, scavenging for parts here isn't all that different from doing it at home; other than, of course, the fact that everything is falling apart or trying to kill them (or both). And also that it used to always be Mikey accompanying Donnie on a scavenging trip, but Leo has long had to move himself past that particular hangup if they want to accomplish anything.

So here he is, standing on a roof that is hopefully not booby-trapped, looking over the piles of scrap on the street below, those bizarre oil wells rising out of the next building over. At least being up on a roof is familiar, too.

He looks at Donnie, affecting an air of nonchalance, with his arms folded over his chest. His cloak is on, hanging limp in the still air.

"Sooo... where do we even start?"

Viktor | Arcane (S2 Canon updated) | OTA

[becomerobot]

[[Viktor went through a canon update early this month, along with Jayce, to get them aligned with a Season 2, end of Episode 6 canon point. So, it's divorce era time! Spoiler warning for S2 of Arcane as a heads up. Viktor's appearance matches his commune look with the addition of the hexclaw on his back from his monster traits. His chest also has a massive hole in it with an exposed mechanical heart, both thanks to Jayce!]]

Urban Salvage (Metals)

Fascinating... [Viktor mutters as he catches some of the metals dripping down from overhead, toying with it between his own metallic fingers. It didn't take him long to realize the strange quality of the material, morphing and shifting with greater ease than clay for pottery. If only alloys where usually so easy to manipulate and change, he and- no, he'll cut that thought off that.

He would have been able to do much good with this sort of material back home. Full stop. He'll make good of it now, he hopes. The atrociously ill designed Cybertruck he was still saddled with was always in need of repairs and upgrades. Especially since he gutted the interior and replaced it all (save the driver's side) with a roving green house. He forms a metal pipe replacement he's long needed and inspects it for proper gauge and weight. It would do, certainly.]

How pliable these sheets of metal are. If only we could take them all with us...

[Best to make use of all they can. Viktor will focus and scrutinize as he produces more parts. Back ups for himself and anybody else who might wander down curiously looking for something they need or know they'll need soon,]

Is there anything your vehicle might require? I will craft it promptly. [this is enrichment for him! Let him have this!]

Labyrinth & Cy-Cerberus

[While the best place for Viktor might have been continuing to salvage metals into useful parts, he grows too restless to remain at the task at length. Following along with other Drifters, he pursues the end of the subway Labyrinth with curious drive. The third arm on his back spins and arcs and grasps with twitchy alertness, far less calm than Viktor's outward demeanor. A scorpion stinger that looks far too ready to strike out if prompted.

It only becomes more jittery the closer they get to the core. The guarded ring is obviously a problem and the trapped souls cry out for their release. Viktor is fine with obliging them, seeing their fate as too much like his own to not ache dully for.

The boss monster of this map seems to disagree. The Cy-Cerberus charging out at Viktor and whoever might be joining him. The beast is going to immediately regret the concentrated beam of electricity that charges up and fires at it. The line of damage it draws through the beast is effective, but also throws it into a further frenzy of hurt.

And Viktor needs a moment before he can fire off another shot,]

Some help here!

Apex

[From the depths of the city to the highest of its heights, Viktor was willing to travel. A retread of the path his life took. Perhaps that is too poetic a symmetry to assign it. Either way, it's kept him busy and productive in his uncharacteristic break from his partner. The two had been near inseparable in the months prior, but Viktor has physically distanced himself a great deal. First to explore the underground, now to climb to skyscraper peaks.

He really did not care for the teeth walls on the way up. Viktor will patently ignore any imagery that brings to memory.

Reaching the top, Viktor stands before the alter for... a long time. He contemplates it deeply, considering his choice. Leave something of himself behind to remove something unlike himself. Or, better yet, grant that a gift to another Drifter in need of it more than him. He has spared much blood in his time in the Convoy to Jayce. Given he's cut the man off, he could do so now...

But perhaps he could solve one problem with another. He mutters to himself just as another Drifter approaches towards the alter, yet unnoticed by Viktor's intense focus,]

I could forget, couldn't I? Go back to how things... had been before. [a tantalizing proposition, but his mouth twitches in irritation to consider it. A cowardly impulse. He's no coward, never had been. So, why does it feel so tempting to just give up his newer memories and return to how things were prior to this awful city-?]

Apex

[undyingcrow]

[The last time Akechi encountered Viktor was... hardly pleasant. When he spots him atop the skyscraper, his whole body locks up for a moment.

But something's changed. He seems... remorseful, somehow. More emotive as well.

Perhaps what came before was merely an effect of the moon, then.

Tempting fate, he trudges closer.]

Even if you did forget, those around you would not. Is that truly what you want?

zack fair | final fantasy vii

[soldiernoclass]

001. car trip

[ The streets are littered with dangerous traps? Sounds like a job for a reckless, overly enthusiastic SOLDIER. His ride might be a little unconventional, but despite the condition he found it in, it's proved to be plenty tough, so far. And the once-shiny, purple chrome paint job it's sporting was already pretty dull and dinged up, too, so he doesn't mind putting a few more scratches on it. 

Zack cuts a quick, zigzagging path down the street ahead, easily navigating over rubble and broken asphalt. In his wake, proximity mines hidden under debris, behind old broken down benches, and inside dented, rusting newspaper boxes go off like the planet's loudest, most concussive party poppers. Dirt, glass, and pieces of the street bounce harmlessly off the chocobo's wings, protecting his legs, and he wields a borrowed car door above him like a shield to catch the rest. 

He drops his guard only once he's rounded out the next intersection, waving ahead the next vehicle to signal the all clear. Better keep moving; all that noise is definitely going to attract monsters. ]

002. urban salvage: tires

[ Zack doesn't exactly have a use for new tires (or any tires), himself, but the Convoy certainly could do with a few spares, as much of a beating as it's taken, lately. So, in between scavenging for food and clothes and other basic necessities, he veers off course to check out the auto shop with the... interesting storefront display. 

Unlike the rest of the shops around here, the piles of messily arranged tires crowding the front display and their bounties of half-hidden trinkets look like they were put there deliberately. By who, he couldn't guess - but the question seems less important than the shiny thing he's spotted amidst the mess. 

His boots grit over old bits of broken glass as he ducks into the display, crouching by one of the little nests to pluck something out of it. Beyond him, in the store's shadowed interior, bluish light flickers - maybe the electricity's just on the fritz? ]

003. summit

[ Zack lets out a short, impressed whistle as he leans back, hands on his hips, to peer up the length of the looming skyscraper in front of him. It rises so high out of the cityscape that that bright light at the top makes it impossible to tell just where it ends, up there, or what might be at the top - even with eyes as good as his are, now. 

Taking a few steps back, he surveys the building front at the street level, next. The doors aren't going to cut it; he's already tried them, and they're stuck fast, either locked or just blockaded, now, by rubble from the next floor up. But there's a heavy cement ledge above them, and a broken span of window above that. Which could work.

Gesturing to the obvious route in, Zack motions with his other hand toward his company at the skyscraper's base. ]

Going up? I'll give you a boost.

003

[androidvictoriam]

[ Danse hasn't been fortunate enough to evolve any adaptations for climbing, or flying, or spending any time in the kind of urban environment he prefers to deal with. (Or thinks he does, anyway. He hasn't seen the meat and the teeth on the inside of this place yet.) All he's got is occasional vertigo and a constant low-grade headache. So far.

But he will still gladly take this place over the subway, even if he does need help to navigate it. He's lectured enough other drifters about exploring dangerous places without backup that he won't make a hypocrite of himself now, especially when, on a second glance and at the sound of his voice, Danse recognizes Zack as someone who does make damn good backup. At least, if reality reflects what he's seen in his subconscious.

(That second glance has been a little too quick of a double take, and it makes Danse rub at his eyes and blink helplessly for a moment as the strange echoes clear from his vision on both sides of his head. It's been happening with increasing frequency whenever he turns too fast. He tries to hide it and force a quick recovery. ) ]

I'd ask if you were certain you could handle the weight, but, well, I've seen the kind of punch you can pack. Though I don't know how reliable that example might be.

arcade gannon | fallout: new vegas

[taediosum]

i. scars

[ A ruined city full of towering, skeletal buildings warped and torn through by calamity and time alike? Well, he's practically homesick. Only this place is full of nauseating, unsettling quirks one wouldn't find even in the Wasteland. 

Arcade scratches reflexively at the patchy scales on his neck, their pale white shifting to a queasy, pallid yellow-green all across his skin as he eyes the tallest and ugliest of those ruins, and something strikes him. Those pieces of stone shrapnel, the bullet holes that pockmark the building's exterior - have one bizarre trait alarmingly in common among them. ]

...Is that building bleeding? 

[ Of course not. It couldn't be, in the literal sense. But in the daylight the trails of something tricking from those wounds don't look like water. Or oil. Or anything he really wants to think too hard about. ]

ii. crossfire

[ With the sounds of (hopefully) distant gunfire and unidentifiable, monstrous retaliation echoing through the streets, this place feels more like home than ever. Arcade keeps that observation to himself, though - because he'd rather not attract the attention of said warring factions. 

As usual, though, it doesn't matter what he'd rather. As he passes by a seemingly innocuous pile of rubble, the half-crushed body of a robot sparks and spasms to life, clawing its way jerkily toward him. Arcade backpedals away from it in a clumsy startle, fumbling backward and right into the smooth stone facade of a towering building. Where he should bump uselessly off the wall, though, cornered against it - instead, against the pull of gravity and against whatever laws of physics should exist, he continues backing up, right up the wall. 

He's stuck there, about halfway up the first story, crouched at an awkward angle as he hangs off the wall like a particularly unsuited gargoyle, while the broken but awfully determined cyborg on the street below claws at the storefront, failing to climb after him. ]

Uh, a little help, here? 

[ He'd really appreciate it, random passerby. Thanks. ]

iii. subway

[ The subway is definitely not somewhere Arcade meant to end up. But avoiding the fighting in the streets is a more pressing momentary priority than avoiding the dark, decrepit tunnels that run underneath them, so. 

He's stuck dealing with different perils, oops. Luckily, the unpleasant new trait his scales have taken on is working in his favor, down here. He's only half-visible, in the dark - less than, actually, as he's slipped back into his serpentine form. But the extra arms, that imposingly large snake tail that's replaced his legs, they're all nearly invisible in the dark, as his scales shift colors and shades to blend in with the shadows. Only his dirty white coat and the pale of his remaining skin and hair are obvious - hopefully no one's too alarmed by what appears to be, at first glance, his floating, disembodied and ragged-with-holes torso rounding the next bend in the tunnels. 

For his part, at least, Arcade isn't particularly intimidating beyond the momentarily monstrous appearance, though. ]

Don't tell me - there's nothing good back that way, either, is there?

ii

[purplexing]

[There's a sudden blur of green and purple as something dives past Arcade's position, but it won't take long to recognize the winged figure that's dropped from the sky. The young turtle slams a birdlike foot right into the cyborg's face, sharp talons digging in deep as he closes it around the thing's head.

His wings fan out as he takes the cyborg down, crunching it headfirst into the pavement.]

Faith Lehane | Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel

[thegoodslayer]

I: Bread without scarcity

As always, Faith is the first to volunteer to scavenge, because 'Collecting valuable items' and 'not dying in dangerous places' are two of her only useful skills. She does try to avoid being out at night as much as possible- if nothing else, she'll retreat to her jeep whenever night approaches.

However, whether outside in the day or in her jeep at night, she will definitely have no problem whatsoever with fighting the cyborgs and monsters whenever she needs to, and she seems especially vicious toward the cyborgs. She will chase them down if she has to.

This is particularly true near the oil pumps; she won't make any move to harvest anything herself- though she'll help out if needed- but she's noticed the cyborgs seem to be particularly drawn to the oil fields and she's happy to oblige them with some murder. The good news is, she's gotten pretty good with the gun, so she's not gonna hit anything explosive.

She will also scavenge through the shops and the sunken vehicles in the road, collecting anything that looks useful- clothing, preserved food, car supplies, repair tools, guns from fallen cyborgs- as always, she's quite comfortable fighting them off, if not a little reckless. She's always down to rescue anybody who gets in over their head, as well.

At one point, she will find an old abandoned tobacco shop. At first, she seems quite pleased with this discovery, but as soon as she steps inside-]

You gotta be shitting me.


II: Do not give what is holy to the dogs

[Faith is already cutting it close one night getting back to her jeep before the sun goes down... and then the moon warp happens. For the entire period of the moon warp, she can be 'found' hiding from any other, though how well that will work may vary, considering the entire city is twisting, turning, and shaking abnormally. Odds are very good she won't be able to stay hidden for long, and anybody who knows to look for her will probably be able to find her.

It will not take long to discover that, as long as it's nighttime, she has to carry her head in her arms.

Once the initial phase of the warp finally subsides, she'll try to slip back toward her vehicle unseen again- only to find herself face-to-disembodied-face with a hellhound statue. It startles her, but... nah, don't worry, it's probably fine, right?]

(OOC note: Any time after the first night of the Moon Warp, Faith will be a Cerberus. While she has an alternate dog form, for the most part she'll just have dog ears and a dog tail. No extra eyes, heads, or mouths in evidence... until her head falls off at night, revealing a horrible second mouth on her neck stump. Have fun with that.)


IIIa: Their dead bodies will lie in the street of the great city

[Once the Cerberus transformations start to take hold, she's among the many who are drawn to the subway. She rationalizes it at first- she spent enough of her vampire-hunting days in sewers, it only makes sense- but it doesn't take her long before she starts to have bigger problems. She suddenly stops and stares at the nearest person.]

...Did you say something?

[Doom Echoes begin to haunt her, and she doesn't take long to get pretty freaked out by it. As she goes deeper into the tunnels, she can be seen reacting to something unseen, skirting away from the source of the sounds and looking increasingly distressed.]


IIIb: Ascend out of the bottomless pit and go to perdition

[She has, at least, finally gotten hold of herself by the time she reaches the depths of the labyrinth. Instead, she seems to be galvanized by the echoes she's experienced, determined to find a way to free them. As such, the appearance of the phantoms doesn't bother her as much this time.

She doesn't know anything about runed circles and magical artifacts- she's not even sure how she's gonna reach the damn thing- but once the Cy-Cerberus shows up? Now she's got something she knows how to do. She knows how to kick something's ass. In fact, she knows how to do that better than just about anything.

She will not be cautious about it.]


IV: Wildcard!

(Don't see anything you like? Have something specific in mind? Feel free to hit me up in DMs or on plurk at yonfellow)

3b

[serialmurderbot]

[Faith gets there before it. This is the main reason she can get in any kind of strike on the cybernetic monster before SecUnit can do its usual thing and jump in to kill the shit out of it.

Problem: the creature is armored, it's fast, and it's vicious. Even for someone with some baseline augments like Faith, or like this particular Murderbot, that can pose a definite problem during a momentary lapse, especially when there's three heads of vicious teeth.

When SecUnit launches itself forward with an inhumanly springy jump, it uses the momentum to latch an arm around the creature's jaw, snapping the mouth closed and forcing the third head away from snapping at Faith's own mostly through the force of impact. It doesn't redirect, but it does land, catlike, into a roll that turns it right back to face their opponent.]

Watch it.

Deacon | Fallout 4

[facethefacts]

i. who protects the shadow from the dark?

There's nothing like a stealth boy and a world full of danger. Deacon had been saving his stealth boy for when he might really need it, but after a stressful moment about a month ago now, he's found he doesn't need it. He'd be more stressed out about spontaneously turning invisible, but considering the sorts of transformations he's seen in others, he's pretty sure he got off lucky. That, and this is useful. If he wants to be able to move through the city without monsters setting their sights on him, invisibility and a soft pair of sneakers are all he needs.

Crossfire was another thing. It's not enough to attempt to avoid the spontaneous fighting, he had to watch out for stray bullets, too. When he notices another drifter nearby, he attempts to get their attention.

"Psst!" he hisses, appearing behind an overturned dumpster in a wisp of smoke. "This way- quickly- while they're distracted!" he gestures.

ii. one wrong step and we're outta here...

"Watch your footing over there, twinkle-toes," Deacon calls out over the empty department store, fussing with a piece of tech that looks like he's yanked it from a cyborg hunter. It's set out over a jewelry case that he's hunched over, a loupe pressed to his eye while he tries to examine the finer details of the thing. He knows his way around a terminal, but this is unfamiliar to him, and he's simply inspecting it to try to get a better understanding of what they're dealing with.

"I disarmed at least three traps from that area not ten minutes ago. Doubt I got them all. If you set one off... well, I'll spare you the dramatics: we're both dead."

iii. is anyone else qualified to play 'bait'?

Given the choice, Deacon will always pick down over up. The subway feels very close to home for him, used to traveling underground when he could, keeping out of the sunlight and away from the watchers of the Commonwealth he called home. This city feels close enough to home that he's a bit overconfident, dispersing rats from long range with ease, but once in the presence of something larger, he's humbled immediately.

"What's the play, boss?" he asks a bit too calm for someone who is panicking internally like it's his job. The creature is hulking, and Deacon is really not a fan of close range.

iv. ouroboros can have a little ouroboros as a treat...

"We're not headed up there, are we?" The question sounds more on-edge than Deacon is typically able to mask. He scoffs, then swallows so hard it's a wonder there isn't an audible gulp. "Of course we are... 'cause we're insane." He won't be happy about it, but he'll still begrudgingly follow, the pack mentality too strong to ignore.

From the inside of the building, as things start to become more fleshy, teeth lining the walls and the floor sticky and wet, it's almost as if Deacon has forgotten how far they've traveled into the sky. It's easy to... because his surroundings are completely surreal.

"Have you ever heard the ancient myth about Chronus? Time devours all, and all that?" He steps in something fleshy and grunts, "Ugh... So how's your relationship with your father?"

v. neither blood nor regret are a scarce resource, here...

Deacon is compartmentalizing his current state of panic as he moves through the temple. Like the odd, fleshy halls before it, there's a lot to take in and he's on high alert for inbound attacks that might push him off of a ledge and send him flying to his---

Let's not think about it.

"If someone here asks if you're a god, just say yes so we can all get out of here..." he mutters, trailing off as he's distracted by writing on the pillars. He's not certain what it all means yet, but the complicated math equation that's metaphorically flying around his head isn't finished calculating yet.

vi. wildcard...

[ Send me a prompt or feel free to mess with/combine the prompts above to your liking. DM me, PP at dukevendetta , or discord trashwitch666 if you want to plot something specific. ]

iii

[soldiernoclass]

Zack doesn't find the subway tunnels quite so cozy, but he's not exactly bothered by their close, dark confines, either. Even in the absence of proper light sources, his eyes are sharp enough to see clear as day, now. And he doesn't mind being backup-in-reserve to Sal's perfectly capable aim. It's just like working with one of the Turks again, just another day on the job. (Even if he isn't with Shinra anymore, the familiarity of it isn't unwelcome.)

Once they stumble on some bigger fare, though, his reaction is pretty much the polar opposite. Zack looks like someone's just dropped a particularly nice present on him when he spots the hulking, draconic mass blocking their passage - he's already reaching for the hilt of the sword on his back before that question interrupts his already runaway train of thought.

"Oh. Uh—" Maybe he is a little more used to working alone, these days. Having some consideration for his fellow soldier might be warranted, here. "I'll keep it busy, you strike when you see an opening?"

Donnie // Volare: Harpy

[purplexing]

01-A Urban Salvage, Tires
Technically, Donnie isn't here for tires. He's here for comfort items and food, and he's thus far had some good finds in clothing and some snacks. The duffel bag he's found and subsequently made immediate use of is stuffed to the brim, and with it slung over his shoulder, the winged turtle boy winds his way through the sprawl of shops, absently wondering if this dilapidated mall had a bookstore or a game store to potentially loot. Hey, he's going to make the most of this trip!

He would have walked past the tire store save that the glint of something had caught his eye. Jewelry really isn't his thing, but he can't help but stop to pick up the shiny bauble before looking towards the tire shop itself, where other things from other stores look quite haphazardly piled. "Huh?"

That's weird, it kind of reminds him of the totally not nest that he'd made up inside the taxi atop his Turtle Tank. He picks up a pocket watch, drifting closer to the pile to have a look at the rest of the random assortment before movement draws his eye.

Maybe nearby Drifters might have seen him wander in that direction, or perhaps are simply drawn to the sudden sound of a crash and the startled shout, which might be almost drowned out by the screech of a creature of some kind. That's...probably not good.

Whether it may be intended or not, one will find out rather shortly what all the commotion is about as suddenly Donnie comes barreling around the corner, nearly losing his footing for the weight of his bag. He has a glowing magenta staff in hand, and the moment he sees another Drifter, he waves the other hand frantically as he shouts, "Incoming!!"


04: Summit//04-A: Climb
As much as the heights call to him, Donnie knows better than to try flying straight up to the top of a skyscraper, as much as something pulls him to try. But there's just as much a sense of danger as there is that sense he relishes of being up high in the open skies. There's something there and he's unsure whether it's a good thing or not.

His tactic is to fly up as high as he can and then find entry to make his way up from the inside, or at least to catch his breath. As the moonlight shines from above however, he's forced to take a quicker break than anticipated. A sharp pain nearly steals his breath from him as he feels like something's pierced through his soft shell. His sharp claws sink perhaps all too easily into the masonry of the building once he veers close enough, clinging to the wall near the ledge of a broken window as he tries to fight past the pain of whatever the moon's effects bring upon him. Spikey, boney protrusions push through the upper part of his shell, just between his wings, and for the moment all he can do is hang on and will it to be done with.

...which wouldn't be entirely a bad thing if not for his precarious position. Hanging onto the side of a building so many stories up is one matter, but there's a couple of statues mounted along the ledge and they've started to move in.


04-B: Apex
"What the..."

Whatever Donnie had been expecting once they arrive at the pinnacle of the skyscraper, this clearly isn't it. At the very least, it doesn't look like someone's insides.

"...'if we must be broken, let us shatter the prison in the process'..." he reads once he draws near enough to one of the columns. "Yeah, that's not ominous or anything." He glances at whoever else has managed to make their way up. "Sounds like something that Silver Tear group might say."

So does this make this place...?

All at once he's a little more on edge, having heard how previous contact with such places related to the Silver Tear tends to leave an impression of some kind.

"Are we supposed to do something here?"

((OOC: Will match tag format pref!))

summit--climb

[propatriamori]

Edward has no idea how high up he is. He knows that the wind has gotten colder, and that he's been climbing for awhile. With no visual references, though, he could be two feet off the ground or two hundred stories. He just... touched the building, his hand stuck to it, and he had the urge to climb.

When someone lands close to him, he freezes, pressing himself flat against the side of the building. Then the person starts moving, and the minute vibrations he sends off, echoing across the surface of the building, are familiar. Edward recognises him, even though he's clinging to the side of a building in midair.

"Donatello?"

He asks it just as the moonlight hits him, and Edward hisses between his teeth as pain erupts on his back, alongside his spine. It feels like his bones are shifting under his skin, like something is fighting to protrude outward, and he bites back a cry.

It doesn't stop him from noticing something else, though. He and Donatello aren't the only ones up here. He can feel the vibrations as... parts of the building? Start moving.

"Donatello, look to your left. Something's moving."

[coffinturk]

Appearance

Beginning of Month

Vincent still appears as his usual self, wearing the clothes that he pretty much arrived in. His only physical vampiric traits are fangs which by and large get hidden by the wrap-around collar on his cloak. And the fact that he doesn't really grin. Or speak much. What might be noticed especially in close spaces, is that the air tends to get colder around him. Kind of nice on a hot day in fact.

As the first half of the month wears on, mottled, stone-gray scaling appears on the handkerchief patch of face skin he tends to show. He also grows wings. Yes, they're big and batlike. Yes, they can absolutely fold up and come to rest like a cape. No, he doesn't remove his other cloak; he's stubborn like that. Yet somehow the cloak doesn't get in the way of flying. In fact new wings seem to hide nicely under the red cloak unless you look down about the waist. That's an interesting new inner lining pattern he's got there.

Moon Warp/Mid-Month

Stone claws. Vincent's taken off his gloves and gauntlet, rolled up his sleeves as his forelimbs (and likely more) have gained bulk and claws. While he still has enough joints to manipulate a firearm, people might see him engaging in more melee combat. The urban sprawl is partially to blame but so are the frequent encounters with monsters and cyborgs. The moon warp will turn his skin to 'living stone'-like scales, causing him to grow horns and broad, bat-like ears. Boots will be shed to give clawed 'feet' room. There's definitely a thick tail.

Yes, the cloak and clothing are still there. Somehow the cloak doesn't interfere with flight but honestly, he's got those claws for climbing so it wouldn't matter, right?

End of Month

Have a grumpy gargoyle Vincent perched around, sometimes caught napping (and very much a stone statue). But he still stirs to run the gun shop and help out until the changes fall away.

[ Ref | Ref Two | Vincent's Vehicle ]


I. Tandy Town

Vincent sends around a general text message:

To anyone good with radio technology. Send me a list of what you need to build or boost our current equipment.

a. The message can be answered or he might be found at many places on his own initiative, salvaging electronic parts. Even without direction, he has an idea of what to look for; the earlier message had been intended to narrow his search to what might be needed to complete a project of that nature.

In a pile of turned over shelves and corrugated cardboard boxes of a shop that might have once been called 'Tandy Town', Vincent can be found, collecting useful pieces. Sometimes, he just punches one of his newly clawed hands through to reach wires and hidden equipment that were installed to run the shop itself.

b. Or find him in a distinctly barren lot at the outer limits of the urban sprawl. A collapsed sign suggests that once, a radio station once occupied the hill. Rather than destroyed it seems to have been scooped out and taken somewhere else. Parts of the tower still exist but... hm.

"...Can't have it easy," he mutters to himself.


II. Moon Warp

Soaring on wings is not much different from the way his body lets him leap and even that, Vincent sometimes wondered, may be a limit he puts on himself as if not wanting to forget that gravity should affect him. Well... flying was also bone deep these days. Soul deep. Something in him knew even before he came to this broken world or time or whatever it was. So he wouldn't think too hard about it.

Up and up, drawn by the call of manifest instinct to achieve heights and roost during daylight hours. The beacons born by the building sculptures are shattered with a kick or punch of clawed limb, shot and destroyed by gun. He could easily startle someone by soaring at breakneck pace up from below, in a gap between buildings or through a shattered, tooth-filled window while finishing what might readily be compared to a mid-air dogfight.

The aerial kind, not literal hellhounds. Usually.

Sometimes there were hellhounds too and fire. Besides the sound of his gun's retort, there was also the streaming streak of red that is his cloak often streaming behind winged beats, somehow never tangling.

Don't think too hard about that, either.

a. Whether or not he's being aided at the time, coming to the aid of someone among the buildings' heights or returning to someone he's startled to make sure they're alright, Vincent is likely to make time for fellow Drifters despite the designs of the Moon Warp.

b. But sometimes, seemingly at random, a beaconless statue might be discovered on a ledge by an explorer. Gargoyle, but there's some familiar traits to this stone statue. Most gargoyles don't get carved with clothes or cloaks for one. Hair for another; but the whole of it is assuredly stone, as if someone decided to simply chisel out a representation of Vincent in half jest of his tendency to haunt corners and heights. Whether curiosity or just passing by without a glance though, getting too close- or trying to reach out and touch- suddenly brings the statue to life. Stone cracks and crumbles, giving way as if transforming to flesh as Vincent snaps out of his napping repose, with no less reaction than one might expect out of someone startled awake.

...Someone startled awake who is professionally trained in certain skills and might draw a gun with alarming speed and point it at the person who 'crept up' on them in a dangerous, monster infested zone.


III. Apex

Awake and more gargoyle in appearance than man- though traits remain that identify him as Vincent- the gunman stands in study of the temple and its unconventional altar. He certainly understands the message and its implication all too well; no doubt something like the ichor that dripped from the chimerical Tower back in the thorn scrub but with a more direct spelling out of what will be received for sacrifice.

Yet even as the month nears its end, Vincent is not willing to so blindly give away something he may never see again.

"What are your thoughts?" he muses. His voice has become gravelly, which might be an amusing descriptor considering the transformations he's undergone this month. Surely he'll hear the comparison at least once this month if not more.

IV. Wildcard

HMU! coffinturk or maruah

Apex

[undyingcrow]

It's a valid question, really, especially with Akechi's transformations. The horns, the talons, the feline ears, the feathers from his face down to his waist... Crow talons, sharp teeth beneath his lips, to say nothing of his enormous black wings and the white tiger paws he now stands upon.

A barbed, plated tail is hardly inviting, and he knows that even his face is due to change.

Even so, he eyes the statue with disdain. "There's always a catch. For all the inconveniences this form brings, there are enough benefits that I see no reason to take chances."

jayce talis (arcane) | draugr (cw: undead/vore imagery)

[hexrot]

urban salvage

[ jayce has disappeared from much of the convoy's company since the recent incident at the back of his truck post clean up— and it's quite unlike him. when jayce usually disappears, it doesn't bode well (for him). what was once a pair glued to the hip with viktor, jayce has forcibly removed himself from his former partner's general vicinity— to give him his damn space very much as his own. things are too inflamed and they are forced into close range too soon. he has too many memories peeled fresh, bleeding, and muddled with his time here— he is uncertain of what his next step should be and . . . watches for it. from afar.

he should focus on other things— like oil. like tires. like metal. you can never have enough metal, especially not malliable ones. so, he gets to work. newly braced, jayce loads what he can without as much as a word to others, with a distanced demeanor and an unfriendly face. jayce looks like he hasn't seen the convoy showers in . . . months, strangely. and it looks like he hasn't exactly cared enough to change that, either. he wishes he could be at least a little more . . . enthralled about this alloy and how its cool surface melds into just what he wishes. he would've. after occasional moments of staring and sucking his blue tinted lips inward, jayce frustrates himself; snorts loudly like a bull and tosses the metal into his spare parts commpartment with pinned cervid ears. his projects are late. he doesn't care nearly enough about malliable metal parts with no need for a forge, and on top of it all, he can't stop the obsession that flashes persistently behind his eyes like some sort of cruel punishment.

one will find him scavenging for more— and when no one seems to look, he punches debris until his knuckles grow angry with injury that crumbles into rot. he even thrashes his antlers against a crumbled piece of wall and concrete. when he picks up sound, he spins with a stagger, bordering feral even without the use of his hammer. ]

Keep your distance.

climb

[ moods only get worse. physically? jayce has not seen the deterioration of his body as abhorrent since the very death that made him this way. he's lost weight in too little time. his limp might as well be an undead's full shamble. he's made a habit of breathing before, now, he cannot be bothered. the stench of death on him is godawful, only made more disgusting in the way his muscles and organs squelch under his tattered clothes, or the bone of his broken leg cracks. with a complete diet, he's managed to blend in enough to be considered part of the living.

now, he is a trembling, feverish husk, and no amount of monstrous flesh is easing his abstinence. he brings a draft of cold with him, and his ice blue eyes glow like the very moons in the dark. broken glass coats with sheets of frost just by his presence alone. soon, he stares compliantly at the moonlight above crumbled skyscrapers, and whispers: ]

. . . This, [ a little louder now, drawing a lazy breath that grates like metal on a chalkboard to be able to speak. to someone, anyone— even the moon itself. he wishes to be alone, he should be alone, given his state, but that does not mean he enjoys it when he drawls, deep down wishing for someone to hear him: ] I've seen this before.

hunt

[ every day throughout the month, perhaps even more than once— jayce is desperate to eat. but everything he eats is stale. every tear into hot liver or plump spleen satiates only part of him. eventually, jayce does more eating than he even comes close to touching the forge again. he just— can't think straight enough to pick up tongs or pound away at impurities, or tend to heated coals. the fire bothers him. the heat from the outside is what he yearns for within him, in his mouth and in his stomach. he twitches and scratches at himself to the point that he cannot sustain a blacksmith's necessary precision, only fuel the simple thoughts of an undead stag bordering into the agression of a season's rut.

or, well. the lack of a two-in-one.

so he takes the mercury hammer and prowls for food. be it flesh or robotic— the cyborgs, especially, taste a different sort of ire from jayce. if you happen to be at a crossfire . . . it doesn't last long. ]

( ooc: jayce has been canon updated to season 2, end of episode 6; he'll be extremely messy, very divorced and going through some drifter blood withdrawal. thus! his draugr traits will be exacerbated and he'll be awfully cranky this month! hmu at liberos !)

climb

[propatriamori]

Jayce?

[The gait is wrong. Something must have happened to his leg, because he doesn't sound--doesn't feel, through the minute vibrations Edward has grown to rely on more and more--like himself. If he hadn't spoken, Edward might not have known who it was.]

Are you all right?

[Jayce isn't the only one dealing with some new issues. Edward is several feet off the ground, clinging to the side of a building. He can climb now, his hands and feet sticking to whatever he touches, and they're strong enough to support his weight. He's currently facing upwards, towards the moon, and doesn't feel the cold air wafting off Jayce.]

Do you need help?

Levi | Fear & Hunger 2: Termina | Infernal

[solitarysoul]

01-a
Levi has never seen an oil pump. He's not sure if they exist in his world or not. They're odd...once he saw a little bird toy that dipped its beak in and out of a glass of water. These remind him of that, only much bigger and not designed to look like a silly little animal. He has no idea what the purpose could be, or why there were multiple pumps in this area. Including one growing out of the side of a building??? But he's not really sure if that's weird or not given he's never seen these things but also this place is just fucking weird.

He stands there watching them pump with a cocked head for a moment, then as you approach an ear flicks towards you moments before he turns his gaze to whoever's approaching. "...do you have any idea what these things are?"


03 - 1
Like many things here, Levi can't explain it. But he knows there's something important under the city. He also knows he should probably be careful since it can't be safe and odd pulls like this were unnatural. But the feeling of needing to go down there is stronger than his common sense to avoid anything that might be able to lure him in. He stops thinking about it before going that far into the subway. It was dangerous and he'd much rather think about how to get through it and deal with anything (or one?) he might run into.

Through the subway Levi can be found with his rifle in his hands, carefully making his way towards the depths. He has his satchel with him but all it really has is his blade, a back up gun and extra ammo in it. He stops regularly to peer and far away husks through the scope of his rifle, occasionally picking off far away monsters before they become a problem.
If the husks can't be avoided he leaves his rifle on his back to save ammo and continues with a shot gun or his curved blade in his hands.

Occasionally he can be found stopped, watching a group of rats and ratmen from just far enough way for them just to react. The rats in Prehevil talked to him...perhaps he can talk to these?


03 - 2
As he goes further into the depths Levi starts to feel off in his normal form. It just didn't seem quite right, so despite his usual distaste of the ability he finds a (hopefully) safe place to store his stuff and shifts into a large, black German Shepard like dog. There's not much to distinguish him from a normal animal, aside from the fact that one showing up here is very odd. And the fact that his red eyes glow. If he knows there's another Drifter around he won't hide from them, but since the tunnels get more dangerous as they go deeper he's being stealthy and letting his black fur fade into the darkness and gloom. Perhaps all you see is a set of red eyes in the darkness, possibly moving towards you.


03 - 3
Levi is certain that whatever is holding that rock in place needs to be destroyed (also maybe the rock itself), but doing so isn't very easy. And it becomes much harder when the three-headed mechanical monstrosity makes itself known. His weapons have all been hidden away further up the tunnels and this seems like more of a threat than a dog can handle. But he has another from better for close combat with larger threats.

Down here he fights in a hybrid wolf(dog)man-like form. His fur remains pitch black and his eyes still glow, but the skeletal face (and other bone-like growths) set him apart from any werewolf that might also be fighting down here. His fighting style in this form is very up close, personal and brutal, using his teeth and claws to get into weak spots and any gaps between joints of the giant mechanical hell hound. Instinct and anger move him more than any plan or tactics.


???
Any other ideas? Hit me up! Just throw something at me or we can plot at ConnectiveTrick or nvrknwsbst on discord.

Will match style, I just default to prose

3-3

[becomerobot]

[Viktor was following along with Levi to the center depths without much to say. The young man was also generally a quiet sort without being prompted, so it worked out between them. After a sudden absence, Viktor returned... different. People changing from transformations was common place, but this wasn't the same. This was a fundamental shift in his attitude, a cold and distant one. The fact he now has a massive hole in the center of his chest, making a suspended artificial heart fully visible from his back or front, is probably a part of it. He didn't feel like talking about it.

He does, oddly, feel like this fight is one to pick. The goal is in sight and clearly they need to defeat this monster to conclude this journey to the depths of the city. To free these trapped souls of their eternal torment. It feels like the least the Drifters should be doing, for their part in this world.

So, when the Cy-Cyberus charges them, Viktor strikes it first with a the electric laser arm still emerged from his upper spine. The attack is stunning to the creature, clearly a weakness. While Viktor no longer needs to swiftly swap batteries out to use the ability, he instead needs a moment between blasts to recharge. A cooldown period, if you will.

Having Levi to charge in and busy the beast up close is just what he needs to not get rushed down,]

Levi! Buy me time!

Jack Russell | Werewolf by Night | Yokai

[wereperrito]

01-A: Clothes, pre moon warp

Jack has plenty of experience with urban centers, even if they're not his favorite environment. He prowls around easily, occasionally scaling a fire escape or peering out of a third story window of a decrepit apartment complex to get a better view. He manages to deftly avoid any husks this time, at least so far, ducking in and out and around doorways.

He finds the clothing stores first, and all but dances around in glee as he collects large sizes of various shirts, trousers, even underwear. Larger means more likely to accommodate monster forms, and also more easily tailored for smaller people. His shop in the convoy trailer becomes even more cluttered. Then to his greater delight, there's a craft store where he loads up on every spool of thread he can, some more pattern paper, a few helpful odds and ends, and a couple whole bolts of fabric, what few isn't too damaged. Unfortunately, those are a bit too heavy and awkward for one little werewolf-fox, so he beckons anyone else nearby over. "Please, if you could just grab the other end of this..."

It's not all fun and fabric, though, as he finds himself pinned down behind some fallen rubble while a cyborg shoots at him, or clinging to an awning while a gargoyle-like monster with wings too small to fly jumps and flutters to try and reach him. Anybody feel like a quick rescue?


02: Scavenging and Cerberus, post moon warp

After the moon warp, Jack feels-- better? He didn't kill anyone (he thinks), his friends kept him safe (probably), and the next moon warp is probably at least two months away (he hopes). He keeps up the scavenging, filling up his van as well as his shop with things he might be able to use, but the new statues are curious, and he hasn't heard any warnings about one yet, so he drifts a little too close to one.

And then there's a glow, and some scrabbling and whining in canine pain at a transformation he didn't expect, he's in a shape that's got more in common with a wolf than a dog, but it's still a big four-legged canine with a lot of fir and, unsurprisingly, six tails. The tails and his eyes glow with his typical phantom fire, but he's huge, and shaggy, and definitely not a kitsune right now.

"No," he says, unhappily, turning in a circle to look at himself. "Not again. It's not even the fox this time!"

Find him prowling around with his tails mostly low with distaste as he continues to attempt to scavenge. At least he's left alone more by the monsters, as he's much more clearly one of them now, but the cyborgs are even worse. He spends a lot of time running with a bag dangling from his mouth.


03: Subway and Labyrinth, post moon warp

The pull below is probably something to suspect, but Jack has been hearing the pleading of the husks for a whole day now, and he can't just leave them there like that. He heads down into the subway, radio in his mouth, still stuck in his new and annoying wolfy form, and trying to get it to play its music with a tooth on the "play" button. He might just get a lot of people hearing him broadcast across the radio with growling complaints about, "Stupid thing, play your music," and "I miss thumbs," and "This had better not be affected by drool."

He gets frustrated a couple times and just bowls into the husks, freeing them in a more physical manner, before bolting deeper into the tunnels with newly made monsters on his tail. Anyone accompanying him or deeper in the subway themselves had better be ready to deal with them.


03: Cy-Cerberus

Running into a giant three-headed cyber-dog is not really a thing Jack wanted today, but he's not dead yet. His supernatural dodging ability has him bouncing all over the deep subway tunnel, illusions of himself leaping away from him to distract the beast as best he can, tails tingling with a static energy he's not sure how to use yet, but which helpfully zaps the machine thing every time it gets too close.

"Help?" he calls hopefully around the radio in his mouth, just aloud but also with his radio active. "There's a rather big machine down here, and I'm not sure how long I can keep away from it."

The first time he makes it land on the electrified rail is an accident, just a result of good timing and one of his illusions landing on it before getting bitten in half and turned into phantom fire, but after that he's attempting to do it in purpose. Anyone else with him will get a hurried, "Now, get it now!" each time it goes rigid with the electricity.

2

[thegoodslayer]

Faith hasn't intentionally been staying close to Jack since the moon warp ended, but she hasn't exactly tried to shake him, either. Seems like it's just easier to stay close than not somehow, and let's be real, half of what she's been salvaging is clothing and material for his shop anyway.

Unfortunately, the one thing she didn't count on is the statues still being around- and she forgot, it seems, to warn him. By the time she sees him approaching one, she's too far away for him to hear her. She tries anyway.

"Jack, wait-

But it's clearly in vain, because there's a sudden flash of light and, as she rushes closer, she sees-

Crap. Well, at least he was... kinda used to the dog thing, right? She's definitely not gonna say that out loud, though. She wasn't quite sure what to say to his consternation, actually. Just... had to try and think positive, right?

"... For what it's worth, you look metal as hell."

Yep, nailed it.

Nora/Sole Survivor | Fallout 4

[warneverchanged]

Urban Salvage: Metal

[One thing that the people in the Convoy will realize is that Nora loves scrapping and collecting any little bits and doo dads to add to the collection in the back of her truck. When she sees any opportunity to salvage anything, her eyes are going to light up anime style as she thinks of what she can add to her hoard.

When the convoy stops, she can be found hunting about the streets collecting sheets of the strange cold metal. She's humming a song that sounds happy, or at least too upbeat for the current setting.]

If you put bodies on those hands, it would be just like home.

Subway

[Well, well, well, time to go underground. Something was pulling her to go take a look... as if something bad was about to happen down there. And considering experiences she had in the Commonwealth's subway, she was willing to believe it.

Entering by sliding down a mostly intact handrail, she grips the bat she found recently in her hands.]

You ready for this?

Climb: Internal

[Nora had been inside various building to retrieve things for people off and on before she'd shown up here, so climbing up another building wouldn't be too hard, right? Standing outside and taking a look up the building, she makes a hmm noise.]

Anyone want to team up to go through the inside? I've learned there's safety in numbers with things like this.

[Numbers, weapons, grenades, Dogmeat. She missed Dogmeat.]

[ooc: Nora has the ability to do cerberus this month, she just hasn't yet. If you want to hit up a wildcard, please do so! Feel free to DM me or hit me up on plurk at penguinknitter if you want to discuss anything!]

Salvage

[undyingcrow]

[It's odd to see someone so chipper in such a desolate space. Akechi can't help but approach, equal parts curious and perplexed.

He's quite distinct, between the black feathers coating his face, his neck, and presumably more of his body beneath his clothes, the large, hooked horns, and white tiger ears that swivel forward. Large black wings remain folded against his back. Black talons pierce through the fingertips of his leather gloves.

He moves forward on pawed feet, with white, striped fur not unlike a white tiger's, and an armor-plated, barbed tail drags behind him.]

Care to elaborate?

Maggie Rhee | The Walking Dead | Werewolf

[cantgetoverit]

1. Urban Warfare

[The city itself might not be terribly familiar, but the condition it's in feels very similar to what she had seen in New York, even with the evidence of the battles between the cyborgs and monsters.

Maggie has mostly avoided getting caught up in the battles between the two groups, but she can be found occasionally taking cover behind a mangled wreck of debris, or down an alley as cyborgs and monsters clash nearby.

She can also be found scavenging from the stores, taking anything that might be of any use from food to clothing to tools or anything that can be used as a weapon.

Leaving through the rear exits of one of the shops, she freezes as what she thought was a gargoyle hanging off one of the buildings suddenly turns its head towards her. She thinks for a moment that maybe it doesn't see her until it leaps from the building with a roar and begins to charge. She manages to slam the door shut and throw the lock into place just as the iguion hits it headfirst, leaving a sizeable dent.]

Okay.. Not going out that way...

2. Subway

[She doesn't bring her truck down here, she's too concerned about damaging it or getting it caught up on the stairs, so instead Maggie has chosen to explore the subway tunnels on foot.

The attack happens in a moment of inattention. She thinks she hears someone cry for help, and turns towards the sound when the ratman emerges from the husk on the ground. She whips around just in time for it to lunge, knocking them both to the ground, and her hands find the monster's throat to try to keep its snapping teeth away from her face.

She hits the heel of her boot against the ground as she struggles with the creature and the knife snaps out of the front of the sole. She brings her foot up and drives the knife into the ribs of the ratman, scrambling free as it recoils with a howl of pain. It snarls as Maggie puts some distance between them and begins to charge an energy attack.]

3. Wildcard
[Don't see something you like? Hit me up on plurk TroubledBlues to plot something else.]

2

[solitarysoul]

[Before the ratman can finish charging its whatever a black shape surges out of the darkness, crashing into the creature and closing its jaws on the ratman's shoulder. With his black fur in this form, the only real hint that Levi was around were his glowing red eyes so the sudden arrival of the large, black dog might have been a shock to Maggie as well.]