monstertruckers: (Default)
monstertruckers ([personal profile] monstertruckers) wrote in [community profile] route666rp2025-03-06 05:39 pm

MARCH EVENT LOG




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


















01: MESSAGES


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

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

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

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

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

When the Convoy makes camp, it is inevitably near Husk clusters. The metallic hum only increases as the sun goes down. But the Convoy has a counter for that. A haunting melody starts to play on the Convoy speakers, and from any phones; taking the sound closer to the Husks causes ghostly forms to rise up and towards the moon. It puts a stop to the odd humming… At least until the next camp.
03: ROUND 'EM UP
Those with sharp eyes will notice something different one morning, on a nearby hill. It appears to be a flock of cattle… Which might well be a welcome sight for those wanting beef for dinner. As the Convoy rolls closer, it swiftly becomes clear these aren’t normal cattle. Their skin is shiny, scale-like and metallic, and their eyes glow. Those hooves also look sharp enough to punch right through a car door.

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

Tough cars can easily square off with a gorgon bull and come away victorious. Other cars are advised to try lassoing from a distance, and wearing the animals down before moving in for the kill.
04: BUILDING THUNDER
There’s dark clouds boiling up in the sky. Those who shelter in the Convoy will be spared the worst of the storm… Though the winds have a way of screaming, trying to call Drifters out into the storm. And flecks of metal and glowing moonshard stone have a way of replacing rain and intensifying the storm.

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

These traits last as long as the weather remains stormy; the symptoms ease as the skies clear, only to flare back up as storms return, and will remain that way as long as the Convoy remains in the grasslands.
04: MONSTER SHIFT, NAGA
This month, Drifters will have access to the serpentine Naga. On top of all Naga species traits being available, the following occurs:
+Cold Blooded: the rain and storms can potentially make Naga slow and sluggish, or inclined to sleep or seek out other heat sources to gain energy; this includes basking in body heat from others!
+Water Divert: With their water shaping, Naga can divert falling rain and even ground saturation to make the area or other Drifters more dry. They can also concentrate water into different areas, and can also change water into mist or ice.
+Blue shift: the scales of Naga become more vibrantly blue, or a strange mottled combination of blue and stormy gray, the more intense the rains become. These scale colors can also reflect their moods.
+Extra arms that are painful and disorienting to grow, and can result in coordination issues.
+Scale Pains: Pain and discomfort when scales grow in, as well as fangs or talons!
+Water glide: during floods from the rains, Naga find they can easily traverse deep water as though they were simply walking (or slithering) across it.
+Thermal vision, making it easy to track others in the middle of storms. Vision may also become disorienting, and eyes become slitted.
04: MONSTER SHIFT, HARPY
The storm will bring a second monster this month, in the form of Harpy. On top of all Harpy species traits being active, the following occurs:
+Storm Rider: high agility and capable of flying through the storm winds without hindrance. Even tornadoes can be mastered!
+Feather pains: itching, or full pain when growing feathers or wings. Talons may also be painful when growing from fingers or from feet.
+Wind Affinity: able to shape wind, including diverting the worst of the storm winds, or summon and focus wind into razors.
+Warbling Voice: words may waver and slip into something more songlike, or even a damaging sonic scream if emotions are heightened.
+Height Call: a need to get higher into the air, whether through perching on buildings or the convoy, or through flight. A sense of euphoria as they go higher.
+Nest Building: a compulsion to create a nest out of spare and soft objects, and feeling more safe inside that space.
+Heightened vision like a bird of prey, able to pick out details even at great distance. This may be disorienting at first, as vision becomes telescopic.
05: ZOLOM HUNT
As the Convoy travels into marshy points in the grasslands, it becomes clear something is following. Something is hunting the Convoy, disturbing the boggy ground in waves and humps as it travels. It’s hard to say what exactly the monster is, just that it’s BIG and feeling out the Convoy, seeing if it can find prey.

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

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

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

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

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

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

PLEASE NOTE! These are small bits of set dressing for players to include in threads if they wish, rather than full fledged prompts or events. You may handwave your exploration of these areas, or thread them out.

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

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

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


NAVIGATION
andnevermore: (006)

[personal profile] andnevermore 2025-03-13 08:28 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Her fangs sink deep into the meat's jugular -- not the ideal position, the flow of blood is weaker here, she needs to tap an artery. Still, Blake gets a few mouthfuls of blood. Living, vibrant blood. Her first swallow is a revelation, life breathed back into her veins, like the first sip of water in a desert.

But it barely touches the depth of her hunger.

Now that she's had a taste of what she needs, she redoubles her efforts, frenzied. The food's hands are trying to raise to her throat, so she takes both wrists and slams them back against the side of the van, grip tight enough that fragile bones strain under her fingers. She lunges again, and this time her fangs sink into the side of the prey's throat, slicing none-too-tidily into the carotid artery. A heavy spray of blood coats her fangs, her tongue, and she starts drinking greedily, a rumbling noise of deep satisfaction in her chest.

Assuming that the meat is suitably quelled for now, she lets go of one of the prey's wrists, blindly grabbing hold of his hair to yank his neck further to the side.
]
thetatters: entity!. (but it is sunlight)

[personal profile] thetatters 2025-03-13 08:50 pm (UTC)(link)
[ John has been reduced to incoherent snarling. He pants raggedly and bucks beneath her, straining at her grip, growling an unending stream of curses. His voice warps deeper the longer she keeps him pinned, helpless in his fury: ]

—pathetic beast, I'll kill you, I will tear your entrails from—

[ It does not matter: she seizes him by the hair and wrenches his head back to bare his throat. Her tongue works against the wound, and for a moment the sensation is so familiar, so visceral, that he remembers pain like this. First had come the heat of Arthur's mouth around his finger, the careful press of tongue to nailbed. Then had come the teeth.

He let Arthur take his finger. He will not let her take all of this.

She shouldn't have freed his wrist. His body is going clumsy with blood loss, but John's mind is immune. He fumbles across her back for the grip of her weapon. Then, vicious as a cornered animal, he lunges forward and snaps his teeth upon one velvet ear. ]

andnevermore: (002)

[personal profile] andnevermore 2025-03-14 08:20 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The meat's useless vocalizations go ignored, little better than white noise. The only thing Blake cares about is blood; thick, life-giving, pure vitality being swallowed down and perfused into her veins. For the first time in a month, she feels alive.

For a blissful moment, the prey stops struggling. All is calm. A rumbling purr starts in the back of Blake's throat, the triumphant satisfaction of a panther having dominated its prey, the bliss of knowing that she is the superior predator. It sparks a warmth in her veins entirely unrelated to the blood, and she softens her bite, soothing it, making it gentler, tongue laving over thin skin-- see, she can make this good if you just lay still--

And then vicious teeth close on her ear.

Blake yowls, rearing back, letting go of the prey to clap one hand to her stinging ear. The pain is so disorienting that she stumbles backward, unknowing and uncaring that the weight of her weapon is no longer comfortably on her back.

For a brief second, she feels-- different. Like something else is breaking into her thoughts and instincts. It has her pausing for a long moment, lost, gaze raking over the meat like she's hoping to find something familiar but finding nothing. The hunger, still clawing at her stomach, takes back over, then. The prey is likely weakened from the blood she has already taken: subduing it a second time shouldn't be difficult.

So Blake lunges again, mindless in her hunger.
]
thetatters: human!. (I know my heart would break)

cw: briefly horny and then immediately not

[personal profile] thetatters 2025-03-14 09:54 pm (UTC)(link)
[ In that final moment, she— this— it does something to him. The pain transmutes. The beast's purr resonates under his skin, sucking sweetly beneath the crook of his jaw. His body thrills beneath her as the music crests again, spectacular and obliterating:

(Wake me up) Wake me up inside
(I can't wake up) Wake me up inside
(Save me) Call my name and save me from the dark


Then John has her in his teeth, Arthur's teeth, their teeth, and she's off of them. He fumbles to keep hold of the weapon with fingers gone stiff and strange. It's— a pistol? A blade? He is too weak to hold it up. John has to brace his arm against their hip and search with numb fingers for safety and trigger. The black wood of his replaced finger scrapes clumsy against the steel. He clasps their other hand over the wound, and Arthur's blood spills hot through his fingers.

The monster hesitates. With a bolt of clarity, he recognizes that dazed look: moonlight madness. She doesn't know who she is.

Still she crouches again, lunges—

Save me from the nothing I've become

He shoots her in the face. ]
andnevermore: (003)

[personal profile] andnevermore 2025-03-16 02:30 am (UTC)(link)
[ Blake catches a flash of black steel, and then--

She hits the road, the back of her skull cracking against pavement. The sensation of her aura shattering is a tangible thing -- a purple web of light flickering over her skin and then breaking away, but beyond that, an internal wrench, a sudden weakening, a knowledge that if she gets hurt now, it's going to be bad. Her aura protects her even from point-blank bullets to the face, but without it, she's vulnerable.

And with that, her brain comes screaming and clawing back online.

The hunger is sated enough, suddenly, that she can think. Blake stares dazedly up at the broken moon, shattered in a different way than the one she's so familiar with. Her lips and chin feel wet, a metallic scent thick in her nostrils. The CD she was playing before she stopped the van is playing, a little muffled through the closed windows.

She pulls herself up to sit, and freezes. John is braced against the campervan's side, one hand clasped to a bloody neck.
]

Oh, gods. [ It comes out as a horrified whisper. ] John. Did I-- what did I do?
thetatters: human!. (that I was on the brink)

[personal profile] thetatters 2025-03-16 02:40 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He expects a burst of gore.

Instead: purple light breaks like glass, and Blake comes blinking back to awareness. As the music fades behind them, John stares, and his hand trembles on the gun. Conflicting impulses war across his face. He wanted the burst of gore, that thrill of righteous punishment. Arthur's blood is hot and wet under his palm.

But he's hesitating now, off-balance, embarrassed. People don't usually sit up and ask questions after you've just tried to shoot them in the face. ]


You... I... [ He exhales a ragged breath and lets the gun-sword slip through his fingers. It slides to the ground at his hip. ] Just— shut up and find me some bandages!
andnevermore: (Default)

[personal profile] andnevermore 2025-03-18 01:16 am (UTC)(link)
[ Blake's frozen in horror, struggling to comprehend what's just happened. The last thing she remembers is getting too close to a husk and making quirk work of the lizard creature that had burst forth from within-- but then the hunger, gods, it had gotten so much worse, magnifying and magnifying until...

Well. She can guess. It had magnified until it had taken over entirely. She has only the blurriest recollection of attacking John; all she can remember is the hunger. The pain of it. The need of it.

She jumps at his demand, startled into action, and scrambles up off the ground. Her van is right there, and she's got some cotton blankets she tore into bandage strips earlier in the day, cognizant that most people in this convoy don't heal as fast as she does. She returns with a bunch of them, wads one up, and presses it against John's throat.

Blake finds herself speechless, pale, gaze shattered, focusing furiously on the neck wound so she doesn't have to look John in the eye.
]

We'll keep pressure on this until the bleeding stops. I-- I don't know if there's an anti-coagulant in my saliva. Sometimes that's a thing in vampire mythology. We'll just... the bleeding will stop, we'll make sure of it.
thetatters: human!. (I know my heart would break)

[personal profile] thetatters 2025-03-18 02:32 am (UTC)(link)
[ It affords him a moment to catch his breath. John's gaze speckles out when he moves too quickly— a familiar problem, Arthur was always losing blood— so he rests against the painted van, head tipped back, palm still clasped over the wound. Thrumming through the metal, a new song begins.

This one is something layered and ethereal, with a building power beneath. He could not begin to guess the instruments: nothing in 1934 sounded like this. For just one moment, he shuts his eyes and sinks into the sound.

Then Blake is back beside him, and John jolts, expression snapping wary. When she presses the bandages to his throat, he fumbles to seize them from her and shove her arm away. The movements turn out weak and clumsy, and he only succeeds in smearing blood on her fingers. ]


Let me do it. I'll be fine. [ He looks at her sidelong, tense, clearly waiting for her to snap again. ] Vampire mythology?
andnevermore: (Default)

cw emeto

[personal profile] andnevermore 2025-03-19 01:52 am (UTC)(link)
I... read a lot of books about vampires.

[ Romantic vampires. Hot vampires that brood darkly and pine after their loves and only ever eat sexily and tidily, with maybe a stray drop of blood on their lips that they can lick off.

She can feel blood smeared over her mouth and chin like a lion who's just stuck its entire head into a zebra's ribcage. She tore at John's throat like an animal. This isn't like her romance books at all.

As John takes over staunching duty, Blake stumbles backward, putting distance between them.
] I'm so sorry. [ It feels like it hits her, then. She takes a deep breath, snapping out of shock and hurtling directly into devastation, tears burning at the back of her eyes. ] Brothers, I'm so sorry. I never meant... I didn't know...

[ She's still hungry. That's the worst part. She drained maybe a third of his blood, not enough to kill, but enough to make him seriously woozy. Not enough to sate her hunger. She can feel his blood working its way through his system, revitalizing her, warming her, and she wants more. She needs more.

Blake turns, collapses to her knees beside the wheel of another nearby car, and starts vomiting up everything.
]
thetatters: human=. (since I was born)

cw emeto, references to past cannibalism

[personal profile] thetatters 2025-03-19 02:42 am (UTC)(link)
[ She's like Jack. This expression on her face, something dazed and brittle finally breaking to horror... the same fevered panic was in Jack's eyes when he awoke at dawn and saw his clawmarks gouged into John's belly, the evidence of his teeth on John's arm.

He sits seething with that apology, uncomfortably torn towards pity, when she turns away and begins to heave. ]


Wh— don't fucking waste it! [ He starts upright, then subsides back against the van with a pained hiss. It becomes a growl of pathetic frustration. ] Jesus Christ.

[ This is grimly familiar. Waiting in bitter silence, his knuckles in the dirt, to the sound of retching. The heavy copper smell of bile and blood. Back then, Arthur's gagging had infuriated him: each meal was such anguish that the failure to keep it down felt like a personal betrayal. He'd snarled and sneered and, eventually, given up the fight as useless. It never helped. The only thing that helped was the rhythm of his fingers upon Arthur's wrist, his voice in Arthur's ear, soothing them back to themselves.

Arthur would forgive her. Arthur would do it in a heartbeat, gentle fucking idiot that he is. A kindness between people too familiar with the taste of human blood. John never had a mouth with which to taste it, but he is stained all the same.

He is quiet until she's finished. The song fades out beneath Blake's unsteady breathing. Then, into the silence, John speaks steady and low: ]


What sort of music is this?
andnevermore: (008)

cw emeto

[personal profile] andnevermore 2025-03-20 08:10 pm (UTC)(link)
[ That's Blake's first thought, too-- that she's wasting it, that her horror induced vomiting just means that she's going to be hungry all over again and she attacked John for absolutely nothing. But she can't help it. Her stomach is rolling, clenching, everything in her trying to force the blood out of her system.

Finally, when there's nothing more to bring up, her body makes a few more useless attempts before quieting down. Her breath hitches. She swipes the back of her hand over her mouth, blood smearing thick over her chin and fingers. Her cheeks are wet with useless tears.

And then John goes and asks what they're listening to. Blake almost laughs.
]

They're... called Evanescence. I found the CD in a wrecked car.

[ For some reason, that just makes her eyes burn worse. The CD ticks over, switching tracks to My Immortal. ]

Has the bleeding stopped?
thetatters: human/ (for a minute)

[personal profile] thetatters 2025-03-24 03:23 pm (UTC)(link)
Yes.

[ No. Or if it has, he hasn't bothered to check. It doesn't matter except that flowing blood might draw her back, now that she's stupidly gone and made herself hungry again. John would not survive that ordeal twice— but he still has her gun, and he's shifted his grip so that he could raise it suddenly.

He hopes he will not need to. It would be a particular cruelty to soothe her calm only to have to shoot her again. ]


I've... never heard anything like it.

[ The music. He has dropped his voice low so as not to disrupt it. ]
andnevermore: (007)

[personal profile] andnevermore 2025-03-27 08:15 pm (UTC)(link)
[ By now, the CD has gotten to My Immortal, which is one of Blake's favourite tracks. There's something so incredibly haunting about the singer's voice, but she doesn't have it within her to properly appreciate it right now.

At least the smell of blood isn't enticing her yet. Her stomach's still too twisted up with nausea, but she knows she'll have to get away from John soon enough. Eventually, the temptation will be too much. Eventually, she'll probably descend back into ferality.

What else can she do? She can't check if he really has stopped bleeding. She can't get too close to him.
]

You should get to the med bay. Someone there-- I'm sure someone can help. You might need stitches. I... wasn't careful.

[ Like a too-hungry predator that didn't care if it maimed its food or not. Gods. ]
thetatters: human/. (like you and I)

[personal profile] thetatters 2025-04-01 02:02 am (UTC)(link)
[ He knows this tone, this posture: shoulders drawn tight, head low, voice catching. Arthur with blood smeared at his mouth, Arthur blurring John's vision with his tears. A human quavering beneath the weight of revelation that they have become a monster.

John has been a monster too long himself. His tone does not waver, resolute beneath the singer's rising voice. ]


You weren't in control. [ He adjusts his grip on the bandages at his neck. ] And I will be fine. Let me rest a moment and listen.