memestertrucks | JANUARY TDM

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((OOC: Hello, and welcome to our first TDM! This month, Reserves will open on the 10th and Applications will open on the 25th! We hope you enjoy the game launch!))

After tumbling through shadow you find yourself in a shrouded, ruined garage. It’s full of shattered windows and broken mechanical equipment; watch out for shards on the floor, in between the strange symbols scrawled into the ground. Outside the daylight is fading; night is rolling in, and there’s just a few dying lights flickering on and off. It’s going to be hard to see in here and avoid bumping into things and people, if you don’t get outside soon.

Beyond the rundown garage is an overgrown gas station surrounded by thick, wetland forest. Starlight is streaming through the trees, along with light from a broken moon. The one thing that isn’t overgrown with plants is a large Convoy of vehicles, parked right underneath the station canopy.

01: START UP

The Convoy looks like a cross between a semi truck and a train; there’s no one at the front, but there’s still power humming through the entire Convoy. It’s also the most hospitable thing in sight. Why not make yourself at home a little? You just have to chase that eerie, empty feeling since there’s no one else present.

Alternately, there are the cars scattered around the Convoy; all of them in better shape than the gas station. And some of them looking and feeling almost like they might belong to you. That feeling is only increased, when you see there’s a key to the car nearby. Perhaps the key is already in the ignition, on the dashboard… It may have even been on your person, ever since you woke up in that garage. Either way, you have the keys to the vehicle now.

…But there’s a few rough edges on these vehicles. Flat tires, cracked windows and mirrors, maybe some stuck doors and locks; all of them the sort of thing that requires two pairs of hands and supplies. The garage can take care of the supplies… Now it’s just a matter of finding some extra hands.

02: RUIN EXPLORATION

The ruined gas station and garage are the only man-made structures around, and have seen better days. The store still holds packaged food, and tepid drinks of all sorts. The garage has old mechanical equipment for working on cars, along with that strange summoning circle.

There's also a giant tree bursting through the gas station roof. And clinging to its branches, half melted into the surface, are metallic bodies. Graffiti is spray painted onto the tree, reading ‘avoid the Husks.’

Those who ignore the warning and get closer hear a faint hum coming off those bodies. It’s almost like whispers, though it’s impossible to make out any clear words. Some Husks are clutching supplies in metal fists. For a few unlucky new arrivals, those Husks might even be holding the keys to their vehicles.

Making direct contact with the Husks intensifies the hum, and the whispers begin to form into pained cries, and give the impression of something rummaging through their thoughts; trying to pry out things that hurt Drifters, and reflecting those hurtful things on the bodies of the Husks for anyone to see.

03: MONSTER ATTACK

The night grows darker, and the shadows grow deeper. And from those shadows comes the glint of something moving across the Husks, rippling over the metal… And breaking it apart in a flurry of too sharp claws and teeth. That’s when the radio chooses to come on in another mess of static.

Be careful- Keep your fear and rage in check- Calls the monsters- We need the shield up-

The warning comes too late as monsters arrive. Some human-like but with razor teeth mouths that stretch from face to groin; others resembling alligators with bloated proportions and jaws that spit lightning; and still others where the vegetation has come to life, sporting thorn covered appendages.

The Pisaca monsters act as shock troopers, wearing the Convoy down with venomous bites and debilitating howls, before the heavy and brutish alligators bull in, using their bulk and electric attacks to obliterate what’s left. The capparwires scurry in the periphery, taking cheap shots with thorny vines and sparking electricity where they can. It’s a task to keep the monsters at bay until the generator fires up. Especially when one last enemy makes an appearance…

03-A: MIRRORMIC

There's as a metallic shiver along one of the remaining Husks, and a strange ringing whisper in the ears. The next moment, the Husk breaks open in a gleaming pool of quicksilver. That quicksilver catches reflections, and molds itself into a darker copy of a Drifter.

The mirror monster whispers faults and secrets at the reflected Drifter, and anyone close by. It tries to goad Drifters into an attack. And when struck, the mirror monster plays its second trick; whatever damage it takes is reflected back onto the Drifter as a transformation. An injury to the arm transforms the Drifter's arm, and so on.

It's possible to banish this monster through direct lights shone on it from a car, flashlight, or magic… But such action needs to be swift, before the Mirrormic completely changes its Drifter.

03-B: BOMBADGY BOMBARDMENT

Before, during and even a little after the monster attack, there’s an extra presence scurrying around the vehicles, snuffling and barking when startled. A band of chunky, raccoon-esque monsters known as the bombadgy are raiding anything that looks like it could be food storage… And this includes vehicles!

The bombadgy’s claws are deft and sharp with tearing through windows and door seams. These creatures are a touch skittish and won’t attack unless provoked. They also can expel a flammable gas… And this means they can explode if sufficiently spooked or stressed. This also means that they can be treated as living bombs, and be lobbed at other threats if needed.

04: WIND DOWN

During the monster attack, there’s changes gripping the Convoy, and especially the people in it. It might feel like your control is getting worn away by the second… At least until something in the trucks starts to whirr to life. It’s a soft enough noise, little more than a hum as something blooms out of the engines. It fast turns into a shield that envelops the Convoy in a shimmering, glowing dome.

And while it might not be enough to reverse those changes, it can at least stop them from growing any worse. Give you a moment of breathing space to adjust to everything that’s happened, and give you some measure of clarity and control. There’s time to breathe and mend now. Take stock of one’s injuries and changes.

But there’s a few strange surprises still waiting, it seems. Because the corpses of the monsters begin to disintegrate, like they are bleeding out motes of sickly light. Light that you quickly absorb; it has the side effect of lessening pain, even mending wounds… Though it might make you feel a bit off. Maybe a little more excitable, maybe a little more irritable, or maybe expressing a certain odd psychological quirk. Still, that sudden surge should pass in about an hour or so; just need to keep it together until then. Perhaps with a little company.

05: CAMP

A screen in the Convoy flickers to life. The image isn't visible through a snowfield of static. Same with the audio:
“Still… Alive? Good. Connection- Can’t hear you. Can't talk. Convoy will- take you closer to Nirvana.”

After that, the connection is dropped, leaving a collection of text:
I’m sorry. I have no answers for you. But you’re still alive. You’re not as broken as the rest of the world. When the sun rises, this Convoy and all the cars around it will start moving North towards Nirvana. If you want answers, and to stay as close to human as you can… I suggest you stay with the Convoy. Good luck.

A last alert flashes across the screen: “TESTING LOCAL NETWORK CONNECTION.” And then… Music starts to play on the speakers. Mellow guitar and brass music that’s at odds with all the weird that’s happened recently, but perhaps just the thing to relax to.

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.

Race Track: There’s a race track that winds around the gas station! It’s a bit threadbare in places and little more than a mossy and muddy trail. But it’s still a race track that weaves under and over trees, and seems like a good place to test new wheels.

Gone Fishing: The gas station area eventually turns into the start of a swamp; that explains where the alligators came from. It may be possible to do a little bit of fishing, though the fish are just as weird as everything else. Still edible though. Swimming in the swamp is not advised. The alligator monsters and fish tend to bite back.

Spray Paint Messages: The paint on the trees and gas station is starting to fade and wash out, but can still be legible; most of it contains messages warning about the end of the world, prayers to the heavens for mercy, and dire warnings about husks and something called “moon warps.”

NAVIGATION || RESERVES || APPLICATIONS

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

RUIN EXPLORATION (cw for mentions of starvation and post apocalyptic survival)

[ jayce talis is not where he's supposed to be. either the mage fucked up royally or the wild runes of the arcane meddled more with the herald's will than he could control (was that even possible? he was a herald for a reason—). either way, something wrong has happened in jayce's jump from point a to b. in all honesty, it hardly looks like he's changed timelines at all. it takes him more time than any to situate, to expell any bile stuck in his throat from the sheer force of the distorted transport. for starters,
there are keys in his tattered pockets, connected to a glittery keyring of butterfly wings and not a single contraption it belongs to. he's tried every keyhole on doors and the like, even the strange vehicles in the abandoned garage, all while heeding the warning of husks that look too much like the porcelain dolls that'd watch him for ages within the ravine. in other times, jayce would've marveled at the machinery and eagerly taken them apart, get them working to his needs— now, there's something else at work within him. whenever he thinks of mild distractions, his head splits with pain, plagued by the visions of a horrible future. stay on track. figure it out. keep your promise.

he wouldn't fail.

but jayce's starvation begins to dig another crater in his gut, until it's hard to focus. he sets the priority desperately aside, for just a second. he needs to eat, drink, figure out where he is and how he should be going about his new directive, do so cautiously and stealthily, despite the massive, perverse hammer he carries, and he wouldn't be able to do any of that if his malnourished muscle was poorly energized, especially after the climb he's made from the crevices of zaun to piltover.

the dirty windows don't decieve his eyes, wild and surprised when he hurries into one of the stores and is faced with forgotten food. actual, preserved, packaged food, lined across shelves or even fallen to the ground— all untouched. jayce takes only a second before he unceremoniously drops his hammer to the ground and rushes to the stocked racks of potato chips, bread and cream filled sponge cakes. he rips them apart, a starving man, shoving them into his mouth and barely chewing, desperate to swallow anything that wasn't raw or infected with blight. the taste hits. he doesn't want to gag. it pools in his belly like a bomb going off, like firecrackers popping colors in the night. staggering to lukewarm water bottles next is no different. there are even juices and sparkling refreshments. he cracks them open with a quiver in his soiled hands, frantic to satisfy real, extended thirst— after a massive swallow, he gasps at the cool slides down his throat and the wetness of his cracked lips. it makes his pupils eclipse.

he downs about three of them in a row before this man holds the rod of his weapon close to the wall, veers down into a supported fall thanks to his stiff, braced leg, before he slumps, sobs quietly between his slowed feast on bootleg twinkies, slim jims and orange juice.

this is the closest to comfort he's been in months. ]

CAMP

[ he's not alone. for the first time in so long, there are real people to talk to, rather than the embers of solitary, grief-borne illusions he'd create to soother himself to sleep at night. he sees the message, he tries to make do with the information they have, and shift priorities. nirvana. that's where he needs to be to return to his station.

but before any of that, jayce is due for a much needed shower and change of clothes. the stores provide him with a t-shirt and a pair of black sweatpants he manages to yank off gas station racks. when he finally doesn't look or smell abysmal, one can find him in camp fitting his brace on his leg, fine tuning and tightening bolts or screws where they need to with a tool box he's snagged from the garage. if he feels eyes on him for a little too long, he'll go on to ask, hoarsly: ]

Before you woke up here— Did you touch anything?

[ he needs to test a theory. theories . . .

although he doesn't stray far from viktor, jayce offers his knowledge of machinery to get any rebellious contraptions back to working conditions, to the best of his ability. although he is a seemingly reserved man who flinches every so often at certain words, he doesn't isolate himself. no, he seems even a little avoidant of that.

he needs to find his ride, though, so he won't exactly reject help to look for any reaction to the press of the button on his butterfly keys around their encampment. to his luck, jayce is finally in range of a vehicle that beeps and flickers its headlights when he jabs at the button. what he didn't expect it to be, underneath a dusty plastic sheet, is . . . this prismatic shine of colors on a massive four wheel drive pick-up, golden embellishments and glittering butterfly decals stuck to the bumper.

it also has a flat tire. ]

. . . [ he doesn't know what to settle with, before he just resigns and gets to inspecting the thing so he could fix it. ] Great.

[ at least it kind of matches his weird eldritch butterfly hammer. ]

WILDCARD

( hi i kind of suck at open tls but if u a) have something else in mind or b) prefer a personalized starter feel free to reach out and pwm or just hmu here already with whatever you imagine! i'm open to all prompts, mix and match, what have you. add liberos, owlshaped on discord or pm to contact! )

Yang's been tending to the fire. Night is pressing in and keeping the fires lit seems like a good idea. Her eyes had lingered a bit on Jayce's leg brace, wondering if she could offer assistance with it, but the way he's working on it shows she'd probably just get in the way. Guy knows what he's doing. But she watched just a little too long, cause he noticed her watching.

"My bike." She admits. "I was headed through the country with my team and some others." She throws some more kindling they've scavenged onto the fire with an arm that is clearly mechanical in nature.

"Bike didn't come with me, as far as I can see." She adds for clarification.

[ jayce never stopped being observant. a man of engineering, innovation and technology, one of the first things to catch his eye is the young woman's arm.

he's trying to decipher the design of it in a very short amount of time. are the metals familiar? is the architecture familiar? the man finishes snugging a screw into its hole and spinning the top with the pad of his thumb, then the rest of the way in with a flatbed screwdriver. ]

Where in Runeterra?

Yang shakes her head. "Not Runeterra. Remnant." She corrects, then turns to look at Jayce, resting her prosthetic arm on her knee. The way her fingers tap against her leg is as smooth and natural as if the hand was flesh and blood.

"Guess you haven't been paying attention to the word going around. That we're all from different worlds." It's crazy, science fiction stuff to her, but at the same time, given everything, it's also kind of the only one that makes sense, with some of the people wandering around here. How weird is that?

[ remnant . . . rings no bells at all. and if she had touched anything similar to the anomaly, she probably would've said so. there is something . . . so much bigger at play. he should look more surprised, if this is the first time hearing it (it's not; it's what he's theorizing). he shakes his head anyway, gravely creasing his eyebrows together at the, ahm . . . reminder, of just a few hours ago. finally eating food after starving, situating himself, the monsters— the second he found viktor they probably talked for too long in that caravan. ]

Didn't have much time to listen, [ until now. another bolt is fastened and tight against a cog. there's only a few more to fixate, and he taps the metal to continue onto the remaining two. ] Do you believe that?

"I mean, it's objectively crazy." Yang responds. "But...short of this being the longest, weirdest dream of my life, it...kinda makes sense?" Everything about this was crazy, so the explanation being crazy is about what you'd expect. Or...something. It's been a long day. She's tired.

"In Runeterra, do they know what the Creatures of Grimm are?" Everyone on Remnant knows about the Grimm. They're just a fact of life, and the reason Huntsmen and Huntresses exist.

jayce talis | arcane | blanket cw for s2 spoilers

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