2d6 Deadly Mech Failures

The Ballad of JJ Bangaroo
The flames erupting from the steel carcass over the dune. While the green blood from the giant was spilling on the dune in a fountain of fire, the red blood from the gunslinger was staining the sands of the outbacks.
"4 holes, punctured lung, pulverized femur. Looks like you're a goner this time, JJ."
Gurgles of pain, covered by the words of the flaming thunder, as the Doc's hairy paws checked underneath the bloody clothes.
The battle was over. The merchant's Bull was gone, but it's cargo container was not. The Bangaroos' stayed undefeated. Their spirits were not.
"We can't just let him die like that Doc! You gotta do something!"
JJ's gun was there. One bullet left. Fate's last laugh, in the face of burning hellfire and the bloodiest victory to date, underneath the shadow of the Flying Englishman's bovine head.
"I can't do shit. JJ gotta decide how he's gonna go. There you are sonny. What shall we tell her?"
The gun was cocked and put in JJ's bloody hand. A deep breath, a last gurgle before the flash.
"Kill... that fuckin' hoe..."

PEW PEW PEW
Random Lego Mechas from the Internet.

What's This Bullshit, Anyway?
This was made for a campaign (actually a test drive for a whole new game) which was started and enjoyed for about 6 sessions if I recall correctly.
The campaign/game was called Raging Bulls. Set in an alternative 1890, where England never lost colonies due to giant mechas and super bio-fuels (yep, the mechas had bovine heads and I think you all can easily guess how they were called). So, basically, America is a giant farm for PowerGreen (the fuel) and an industrialized colony choke-full of mutants, Europe except for England has gone to shit due to an ecological disaster and became a toxic jungle, African colonies became full of refugees from Europe trying (and partially succeeding) at rebuilding their nations there, Asia was under Chinese hegemony and nobody knows what the fuck is happening there, and Australia is a toxic deforested desert ruled by convicts and mostly abandoned by both God and the Queen (but this could change pretty fast).
So, it was today's world with bovine-headed mechas called Raging Bulls, because they are fuckin' rad and we wanted to be that rad without doing meth (yeah, we're posers).

Mooooooo.
Raging Bulls Concept Art by Luca Coppola.

That Didn't Explain Shit!
Ok, ruley stuff: Raging Bulls were like small characters, so they had their own sheets with stats, equip and so on. Most of that is totally useless right now, so important stuff only:
-Size: bigger Bulls hosted more people, consumed more PowerGreen (aka were more costly to refill), and were sturdier;
-Speed: how fast the Bull goes with a Piloting Action (which took as many turns as the Size of the Bull, forcing people to plan ahead).
-Armor: extra Structural Integrity (which was HP and was kinda strange because we actually used an Ammo Dice for health of characters), and extra defense for people inside. It could easily be hacked together from scrap, so Bulls had like a sort of "buffer HP" that wasn't that costly to repair (which was extremely important, since they were Australian rednecks running around the desert like hungry Warboys and never had enough food for the whole week, so they never really had the resources to repair anything);
-Fuel: how much PowerGreen there was left (pretty interesting since it was pretty scarce, and anybody who could get a supply line of the stuff basically became a warlord on its own, since Australia had little to no industry and most of it was coming from outside or scavenged from abandoned English deposits and other less-than-savory resources), represented by an Ammo Dice with variable consumption rate (based on how much you wanted to get stuff done, so it was kinda risk-vs-reward but I'm not too sure it was a good idea overall).

MORE PEW PEW PEW.
Lego Mech designs for Mobile Frame Zero from the Internet.

The Actual Table

Whenever a Raging Bull reaches 0 Structural Integrity, roll 2d6 to see what happens with the broken machinery:
2-3: The Bull stops dead in it's track, the engine is broken but not beyond repair. Any excess damage goes to the occupants but can be negated with an Armor check.
4-5: The Bull's weapon get hit. Any ammo inside is broken and inflicts 1 point of damage to the occupants. Roll a d6 for each weapon, it's has 3-in-6 chances of being broken beyond repair.
6-7-8: The Bull's frame is bent and broken, with whole pieces of it coming down. Armor is immediately set to 0. For each extra damage, roll 1d6: there is a 4-in-6 chance that the Bull falls down, and any excess damage goes to the occupants.
9-10: The Bull's legs take the hit, unbalancing it and inflicting 1 damage to the occupants. The Bull permanently loses 1 point of Speed.
11-12: The Bull's engine is teared apart, releasing the toxic, flammable hell in its tank. Everyone inside dies, the Bull is destroyed and it erupts in a giant column of flames, which lasts 10 minutes per Fuel remaining.

This random table in a nutshell.
"Da Bulls" sketch from SNL.

d6 Early Symptoms and Terrible Complications

This post was born as an effort to make diseases more interesting, like I wanted to do with creatures. Random symptoms, common cure, guess between the diseases you know have those symptoms to guess the right cure.
Between the forced quarantine, overbearing workloads and a general sense of tiredness, writing "d20 cures to your just-deadly-enough disease" didn't feel too appropriate.

The spirit is nothing more than twitching, trembling meat.
The Town on Gorkon from Pathologic 2.

The Eastern Plague Has Arrived in the Town on the Tiber

Roll 1d6 every month to unleash an ever changing Plague upon your games.

1. A Mouthful of Ash

A cough, ever present, dry as picked bones. Sooth in the back of your throat, breeding with itself like waterless fungi. Just over a week, and the sooth starts to become sand, that stops you cold for a few instants each time you cough, leaving your throat like a dead desert. The simple act of breathing becomes an hardship. Air turns to dust until lungs become abandoned pyramids, stony monuments in remembrance of Death. After 1d8 days from the first symptoms, lose 1d4 point of Brawn per day. After another 1d8 day, Save or be Paralyzed for 24 hours each day.

2. The Red Masque of Flesh

Starts as a slight irritation, an itch just underneath the outermost layer of your body. Scratch, scratch, scratch until bare flesh is visible, and then scratch again. It's always just underneath the place you can reach. Touching anywhere spreads it. Wooden towers loose just an handful of sawdust every day, until they are no more; your friends' handshakes become rattling of bones; your wives' kisses become a meeting of minced meat. After 1 day from the first symptoms, lose 1 of EVERYTHING each day.

3. A Frailty of the Blood

At first, small cuts take longer to heal; little cracks on your hand, where the cold crepts up to bones, pop up and the bleeding from them seems to be just a little too much than expected. After a while, wounds stop healing but they never stop bleeding, and the blood seems to get thinner and thinner and thinner and thinner, until only unending water comes out of every pore of your drained, battered self. The water brought it. The water is taking itself back. After 1d4 days from the first symptoms, you don't heal from just resting anymore. After another 1d4 day, you get a new Affliction every day.

My body won't let me forget it.
Worm dialogue from Pathologic 2.

4. Join Us

Silent whispers in the back of your skull suggest where we are headed. We, not you. You are one of many. Hints at first, voiceless hints that have always been there, maybe. An infectious though spreading through the community itself. The community is the purpose of the one. You might just crave companionship at first, but Many will be One sooner or later. After 1d6 days from the first symptoms, you crave companionship, and must make a Smarts save to resist to urge to go to the nearest meeting places. After another 1d6 days, you feel as if you are an extension of the community itself, you must spend your time with others, and you must make a Smarts save to take any action against the community.

5. The Cancerous Rocks

Small, hard bumps of flesh. Muscle that doesn't respond. Muscle that is stony, hungry and tired. Muscle that isn't muscle. Minuscule, black spores in heavy clouds that make breathing impossible, and that deposit themselves on the skin. Where they land, they grow, becoming part of the host and eating it. Scabs on the walls. Bumps on the skin. After 1d8 days, lose 1d4 points of Finesse every day, and halve your movement speed as the hard, black spots on your muscle grow in size and slothfulness.

6. The Play is Man

Outbreaks of humanity, like flowers in the sun. Small, voracious for all, ever growing, ever taller, eating space for themselves. Hollow, to be filled by that which is outside. Such is a man: a miserable little pile of emptiness. Hunger, greed, lust. After 1d4 days, you consume twice as much and must make a Brawn saving throw to avoid stealing from others and hoarding. After another 1d8 days, you consume thrice as much.

I might take them one by one, I might them all at once.
The Executors from Pathologic 2.

What is What

BRAWN: Constitution and Strength.

FINESSE: Dexterity and Intelligence.

SMARTS: Charisma and Wisdom.

INJURIES: 2d6 Damage.

AFFLICTIONS: 1d4 Damage.

Stay safe. Please.