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memestertrucks2025-01-01 12:01 am
monstertruckers) wrote in memestertrucks2025-01-01 12:01 am
Entry tags:
JANUARY TDM
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.
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.
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…
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.
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.
“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.”
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I promised you. Connected again, Jayce to him. Pulling him right back up. Viktor sighs with annoyance and misplaced, he knows, frustration- His tone says explain, with a bile behind it bubbling,]
And what did you promise-? Remind me. Slipped my mind- [he catches his acidic tone, shaking his head, grinding his teeth against themselves.
The last promises Jayce made to him-? Destroy the Hexcore. Make no more weapons.
He is unaware of what Jayce told some other, unknown version of himself. A Viktor who suffers a somehow sadder and more tragic fate than the man in Jayce's arms feels doomed to. How this Viktor would scoff at that possibility. Sounds fake. Utterly improbable that things could actually get worse for him.]
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You haven't asked me yet.
[ he manages as much, but feels a rise of prickling tension up his spine, like waiting for a dangerously tight coil to spring on him. his answer is a parry and he knows it, enough that he feels that he should not be taking the liberty of hugging him this way anymore. jayce's arms come undone, his forehead rises from the spot on his partner's skinny back— and he hangs there, close behind him in the tight enclosure of the tub.
jayce anticipates something like the grumble of a storm, and that makes his chest tight, his thoughts run— he wants to say something but it's caught in his throat, preemptively feeling his eyes pinch shut in a flinch— ]
Viktor—
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[Viktor snaps back, because being denied knowledge will always gets beneath his skin. Of all people, he wouldn't want Jayce to hold back on him. To keep him in the dark. It's demeaning. It's like telling Viktor he cannot be trusted. By his own partner! It hurts, it offends him-
He doesn't think "should I know this?"
That might change his outraged tune if he considered this attitude is just what gets him strayed onto a different, darker path from their dream. One leading right to hell, paved in so many good intentions. Viktor cannot be saved from his endless pursuit of knowledge, it is his most self destructive aim.]
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I—
[ the single word claws out the cracks of his throat, dry and on the verge of a tremor, one he must swallow down tightly, clicking between his teeth and torn lips. when jayce inhales, closes his eyes with fluted eyebrows, he sees . . . everything he needs to see. gripping his partner's shoulder in front of a blackboard. looking up at the mage who saved his life. viktor hovering with him in a fantastical expanse of blue magic and elated grins. his elegant features staring back at him after pronouncing his name, a racy look in his amber eyes— he'd just saved him, again, from plunging off a ledge.
only you can show me this. he'd never forget those words, carved into his heart and making it bloom. jayce can't take it. his thoughts race, they burn at his tongue, until it shoves him to speak what courses in his ears, in his veins.
it is not without some thought. it is not without sure, steady words, battered from time but a stronghold as tough as diamonds: a truth that he would never again hide from this viktor, what was the answer to this future wish, even if he wouldn't understand it now. his lips press tightly together— and then it's out. ]
I love you.
1/?? we'll see
That is not-!
2/??
3/5... let's say 5.
4/5
... that is not what I asked.
5/5 he's done
An anger drastically undercut with awkward disbelief,]
That is not what I asked..!
KHFZIYFXIVHKHCC 😭😭😭😭😭
fair. jayce isn't going to scrutinize him for it. but, it's out there. no matter the outcome, reaction, what have you— jayce is here with him. he's not going to budge, and he's not going to let personal heartache push him away when he's done so much of that to viktor all these years. all he wants, truly— is to have his partner back with him. he's here.
that's all he needs. he'll be happier than ever, with that in mind. the silence is telling, jayce's earnest doe eyes on viktor even moreso, under all that wet scruff. he's not ignoring him, but. his gaze says it all.
there's nothing left to say. ]
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-don't say anything. [Again, Jayce didn't. He's just getting a head of anything even potentially being said. Viktor looks forward, glares into the water, just feels Jayce's eyes burning in him. Seeing right through him, it feels like. How dare he.
The audacity!]
I should bite you, but I'd catch another illness.
[Coping with jokes, not obvious at all. Viktor just keeps opening his mouth, unable to help himself. Jayce's silence is deafening, Viktor has to rattle the air with his own voice just to think-
Viktor pushes both rounds of his palms into his too deeply sunken eye sockets, rolling them against his closed eyelids. Groaning. Brow furrowed intensely.]
Forget. Forget I asked anything at all. You are the most brilliant idiot I have ever known, Jayce Talis...
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it might be best to allow him the outlet rather than feeding into it. for now, jayce holds his tongue to keep any smart jokes to himself. not the time for anything to overshadow and belittle what he'd just said— which was very real. maybe some other time, when the air felt less awkward, and less strained. ]
Want me to wash your hair?
[ he's in a good spot to do it. and, ah . . .
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He stretches both his legs out to the end of the bath, before slumping his hands down from his eyes and into his lap. Arching up his chin, the water directly pummels his face, though the pressure of it is pretty weak in the convoy. More like an easy rainfall than a torrential downpour.
All that for Jayce to ask to wash his hair...]
Wash your own hair, first. [Viktor passes him back the soap bar, since it's the best they've got, no separate and specific shampoo,] I can do mine in cold water, if it turns on us.
[but the still warm water should be prioritized for Jayce, obviously... and who knew how much longer that would last, since they'd been sitting a while now. Felt like an eternity, at this point.]
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But you won't.
[ he mutters, reaching for compromise in the form of breaking the bar into two uneven pieces, or at least scrapinh some soap off with his nails. it was certainly soft enough to mold, with how much they've used it. that also means it's a bit slippery, too, but nothing that couldn't be salvaged. jayce fights with the damn thing for a bit, trying to get a good grip after a few failing, hilarious attempts all while he fixed a deathly frown on his face stupid fucking soap— caging it between his fingers finally happens. the death of their soap by crushing, too.
by the time he holds it back out to viktor, jayce has decimated the thing in his bare hand, molded to the perfect shape of the inside of his frustrated vice. that poor soap. but now he can relax. and does, with a sigh through the nose. ]
There's some in your hair already, [ he adds, before getting all the soap gore still between his fingers right onto his scalp, lowering his head, and lathering that dirty nest like no tomorrow. ]
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[Something he could probably... not use, about now. He doesn't want clearer thoughts, he just wants to get clean, dry, and sleep. Maybe this will all prove a highly lucid dream. He will not be considering why he's dreaming of love confessions and intimate bathing with Jayce...
Or about whatever he's trying to do to that soap bar.]
Just- bite it in half! [nope, Jayce is brute forcing it. The man is truly a hammer.
Viktor will take the piece(s) of it he's offered over. He's washing the rest of himself first, since he's not letting Jayce do that for him. If his hair still needs it by the time Jayce finishes his own, then he can move on to Viktor's, as he liked.]
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I'm not biting soap, V.
[ jayce traces his hands through the hair covering his jaws. he's not taking the beard off, even if they had any razors. a trim with scissors at some point in the future, perhaps, but not the beard. so he'll scrub that down, too, until it's overtaken by a thick layer of suds. the rest of him that hadn't been reached would get what it deserved. month old grime: gone.
he doesn't mind letting the soap just . . . sit and make him smell more like cleanliness for once in all that time he didn't have it, even if he couldn't see through the new do'. he doesn't exactly have to, does he . . . well, he'll reach forward, just to situate himself. viktor's shoulders, alright, going up. hair not done yet.
so he's getting to that, taking what's left of his now small piece of soap to blindly lather viktor's scalp with it. or, maybe he's not jayce anymore. ]
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They cannot help awkwardly aligning their timing, though. The larger man is suddenly pawing at him. One of Jayce's hands will fumble at the side of Viktor's face since he's turned, promptly Viktor to turn back forward, not dodging out of Jayce's grasp at his hair proper,]
Eh- At least- rinse your eyes before you grab at me! [Actually, Viktor has his hands filled with a pool of water. He'll catapult that over his shoulder to splash into Jayce's face. These are grown ass men.]
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ah. oh. not even jayce's adamant mood is resistant to viktor's whimsy, a small splash of water soaking only half of his face, thus making an entire load of froth seep down his face and over his eye. now he truly cannot open them! jayce only huffs, less irritated and more wearily fond, but doesn't cease his unsighted foaming through viktor's head anyway.
grown ass men deserve some humor in between the cracks of burdening stress, especially viktor. jayce's unspoken language had always been touch; even when they would argue, jayce would seek viktor out by a gentle hover at his back, of the small bend between his hips— to let him know that they were okay, if it came down to him and only him. he wasn't mad.
he has not changed such habits. he touches viktor now because, it's okay. he's okay, with all of this. ]
You're going to need better aim, [ he replies; his voice has long since lost that bright, idealistic innocence laced between every word. it is now a brusque, spent tone that lacks that glow— but it does not lack in sincerety, nor its docile attempt at meeting this man's gaiety.
it'll be alright with him. it's okay. he'll be okay.
just be okay, viktor. ]
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[Viktor's always needed to pick himself up, somehow. Some whimsy, a joke, his sassy side eye... it got him by. If he was ever bright eyed, it was because he shone with the light Jayce gave him. A bright star and a moon reflecting back. Viktor's merits were not changed, but Jayce had a wonderful talent for illuminating an otherwise dark and lonely rock.
To hear Jayce so dimmed from his pain and heartache is also reflected onto Viktor. His chest feels heavy, guilty, like he cannot do enough to rekindle the man.
Settling forward, he just sits still and gives Jayce all the room he needs to wash his hair. A comfort and warmth Viktor can provide Jayce, merely by granting the man his patience. That's some thing, even it isn't fully enough.]
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is what he has now. it finally spurs him to continue the conversation on his own, stimulates his brain in a way that he very much needed, deprived of. the viktor in the fire would never talk back to him, no matter how much he cried. ]
You know, [ he starts, soft as his working hands, ] I hear cogs do the trick.
[ it always reminds him of that one time—
a couple times.
. . . many times, that there'd been a cog in their lives. one of them was a keepsake. another nearly took someone's eye out, and still he remembers the innovator's competition with affection, now bleeding into the way fingers massage at the other's scalp. ]
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I was trying to help your vision, not take out an eye.
[He remembers well, Jayce's worried over their invention holding up. Not backfiring on them or anybody else. Making double and triple certain that Viktor was wearing his safety goggles when he turned the thing on.]
That first cog you flicked through the hexportal... I still have that. Or, I should, I mean... it was in my pocket last I checked. Made it through with me. To this place.
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You held onto it? [ jayce puffs an astounded heh. it makes him feel . . . incredibly blood-warm. that was so long ago, but it was a memory he too, held incredibly dear to him. ] This whole time . . .
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That's all...]
Like you held onto- that... rune stone. [the one now fused into Jayce's wrist. Which backfired on Viktor when he reached for it earlier. He won't reach out again for it, much as he wants to. To inspect it, study it, understand. Instead, he puffs, inquiring lightly,]
Should I not ask about that?
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jayce blinks through another wet rub of his eyes, brings his wrist close to his face and . . . gently brushes at the embedded stone and the gold that encapsulates it. the venal webbing has invaded his veins, gone up his forearm in the blast they'd let loose on a monster. it hadn't been the first time he'd used it, but perhaps . . . it's just like the use of hextech. too much, and the arcane will wish for a price.
no more blasting here, if he could help it.
jayce opens and closes his mouth quite a few times, and ends up settling with an exhale straight from the nose. funny how he'd always been drawn to this thing and it's quiet humming in the deepest parts of his brain, obsessed with it, wore down the leather that carried it from absentmindedly rubbing at it constantly whenever he sought comfort.
our first meeting, for me. ]
When I touched the Wild Rune, it . . . Transported me. To another timeline— one in ruins. [ jayce is slow and careful with what he needs to say; there are holes, but the light shines through them. blotches of rays in the dark. ] This, [ he shakes his wrist, ] when I got out of the ravine, a mage sent me back. But it had to be like this, or else— nothing would work.
[ how heavily he'd skimmed through that was so abismally vague, jayce hated it himself. but, he adds: ]
It saved my life, [ his features cushion his adoration and spread them across his cheeks like staining watercolor; jayce extends his arm to rest on his leg, exposed to viktor. it wasn't reacting now, or even active. it's highly probable it won't do anything now, but their caution is warranted. it is there, if anything, for viktor to observe. ] just as you did.
[ the fact that it had been twice, and it had been his fated string that lead him back to viktor would always go unsaid, for now. that's the closest to telling him the truth that he'd ever get.
. . . and perhaps it's not best to mention that the rune has also cut his life short, at the moment. they have quite a bit on their plate as is. ]
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You told me that story so many times. Of why you were so obsessed with magic.
[He rubs his own face with his transformed hand. The arcane rattles beneath his sinews of mechani-magical skin. Viktor cannot make sense of the feeling it gives him, the intuition he has that is so far beyond his current comprehension.
A thought that Viktor had long kept to himself boils back up. In this situation, vulnerable himself while also seeking to comfort Jayce, Viktor admits,]
Always made me think... I need to be the type of man who would save that boy and his mother.
[Viktor has no idea the paradox he finds himself in.]
We'll get through this, Jayce. I promise. I'll do everything I can to protect you.
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