MONSTROUS: The Monster Apocalypse RPG: IC Thread

[AWOL]

4:30 P.M.

"**** off, jackass," I mutter under my breath. I don't know why everyone wants to be a jerk-off to their barista but it's definitely the trend. The customers are a little more edgy today, though. I wonder what's up...

"Excuse me?" the yuppie replied in the typical condescending tone.

"Oh, I apologize. I said "Walking in Memphis!" You know, like the song? I find it helps me get through the day."

"Like your job is stressful..."

He walked away without his change. Too bad. He handed me a twenty for today's special: two bucks for a premium cooked with expresso. Oh, no...did I give him decaff? Oh well. I pocket the extra $18.

It's nice to have the feel of money in my pocket instead just junk in my veins. I could totally skip out and score a...no. I can't do that. Gotta stay clean.

Damn. He's coming back.

"HEY! What's the big idea, pal? My order too complicated for you? Should I spell it out in joints?"

"Sorry, man. I'm on break! Hit up Ernie with that pot idea, though. I think he'd like it," I take off my apron and walk through the door into the back. Ernie is our shift manager. He's actually a nice guy if you're a hard worker. And he definitely doesn't approve of drugs. Or having fun at work. That just makes messing around with him more fun. "Hey Ernie, I'm going on break. There's a guy out there says he owes you something for your mother last night."

Ernie shouts something about five minutes but I'm already out the door with my backpack. If I hurry I can grab a few reps of whatever machine is free in the gym across the street. I honestly cannot wait to get out of this place and back into Syracuse. Maybe if I can get back in shape I can prove to coach that I am serious about playing again...

The alley way behind the coffee shop cuts straight into 34th street. My hand finds the money in my pocket. I ponder about what, um, "savory" work-out shake I want to pick-up on the way home. But my peripheral catches something across the traffic. A throng of people in front of a large, flat screen T.V. set in the window of a barred electronics store. This isn't far out of the ordinary. I begin to imagine which actor walked out of the Scientologist closet on Oprah today when I notice something that is out of the ordinary: everyone is silent.

I cut through the non-moving cars to catch a glimpse of what is going on behind the crowd. It's a still picture of...something. I can't hear a word over the cars and constant construction of downtown. Luckily I'm a good few inches taller than most of these people. I squint and make out a small, square picture someone took with their cellphone down at Coney Island.

"Oh my god."

 

[Andy C.]

Battery Park, Lower Manhattan
7:00 PM
INCIDENT: START

All across the city, the streets are crawling with traffic, clogged with thousands trying to make their way home from work, or to wherever the evening was taking them. The sun is beginning to set, the lights of the city coming on despite at least another hour of daylight left.

Along the southern tip of the island, citygoers in Battery Park look curiously, even dubiously, at the mass of military vessels still floating in the bay. Since their sudden arrival and unexplained moratorium on all commercial vessels, the Navy fleet remains unmoved, save for the wings of fighter jets still circling the city. Despite outrage from several of the local news outlets, no one from the fleet or from the military's press corps has been available for a statement.

Without warning, there is a flash of light out in the bay, right in the heart of the Navy vessels, the same blue-green color as the jet of fire that had burst out of the water by Coney Island earlier that morning. The flash is bright enough to be blinding for anyone looking directly at it, followed by a thunderous BOOM a few seconds later, powerful enough to knock onlookers at the shore back with the thumping force.

When the flash dies down, the sight is horrific to see. Orange plumes of fire and smoke rise from the center of the aircraft carrier at the center of the fleet, planes and people alike scattered across the deck. There is a sickening groan that can be heard for miles, followed by another explosion, and another.

Without any warning or reason, the U.S.S. Harry S. Truman has been literally torn in half.

Those on the shore not paralyzed by shock and horror shield their children's eyes, call 9-1-1, or record video of the massive super-carrier split in two. The front half of the broken ship yaws one way, the back half the other, and the valiant crewmen trying to put out the fires find themselves sliding off of the deck, into the river below.

Within minutes, the Truman is sunk, pulling down all hands on board with it.

So fixated on the disaster are the witnesses, that few of them notice the large mass just below the surface, moving rapidly towards the city. As it builds momentum, it begins to rise, causing the water to surge and shift above it. Nearing the island, it almost appears as if an enormous hill of water is about to slam into the shore.

The mass rises, the water rising with it, for just a second almost mountainous...

...then the water breaks, slamming into the riverfront like a tidal wave, and revealing the mass beneath. The thing that effortlessly sunk a Navy aircraft carrier is enormous in and of itself...and unmistakably alive.

It strides onto the island, standing at least fifteen stories tall, walking on its hind legs. It is covered in charcoal-gray scales, with two savage red eyes gleaming from its fanged and feral head. A tail at least as long as the creature is tall swings behind it, kicking up enormous waves in the river, then slamming into the side of a building. Chunks of concrete and twisted steele launch into the air as the whole side of the building implodes, sending debris in all directions and raining down onto the streets below, and obscuring the entire area in an immense cloud of dust. The pavement crumbles and the city's centuries-old pipelines strain beneath the creature's tread as it charges into the streets, trampling the terror-frenzied mob and those trapped inside of their cars.

The air rings with a cacophany of chaos for miles around--the screams of the dying and the wounded, the steady THOOM-THOOM of the monster's footsteps, the crashes of windows shattering, the avalanche of rubble. All of this is drowned out for one moment by a deep and deafening bellow, like if a mountain could roar.

All of Manhattan is gripped with a sudden, primal fear. Those who see the creature and the devastation in its wake are struck with disbelief. They cannot conceive that this is really happening. For what they see....

...is truly monstrous.