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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.”
no subject
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.
no subject
that was not something jayce was expecting, and it hits him like the floor of the ravine. knocks the wind of of him. takes him out. you, he starts in the privacy of his thoughts, it's always been you, not magic— but outwardly, the corners of his eyes sting, from stray suds and an emotional squeeze at his heartstrings that makes jayce blink one too many times. he'd thought he put everything out, that his tear ducts had run dry— hearts were funny things.
after a thick pause, jayce nearly pounces for viktor's back, squeezing his shoulders into a tight embrace and knocking their heads together, with jayce's bearded chin against the slope of viktor's neck. it would not have been apparent that tears were threatening him again, if not for the paltry crack in his voice softspoken voice against the patter of shower water that sputters cold. ]
You don't need to be, Viktor. You are.
[ it is more than easy to chock that up to an emotional feeling rather than the actual, wild truth it speaks. jayce would rather press his vision to darkness against pale skin than see the dim lighting of the bathroom walls. it felt more comforting to already be with his savior.
and this is why his affection holds no bounds, runs so deep. it ascends from anything he's ever known. ]
no subject
His words melt the tension from Viktor's posture once more. His hands reach up and hook fingers to Jayce's forearms, embraced around him. Not to pry the man away, but to hold him in place. A bracing grip, a little shaky, Viktor responding with self assured gravity,]
I try, Jayce. I try. [it isn't effortless, it isn't just an are or aren't. It takes thought, consideration, and action. One cannot simply be a good man, one has to act on that, or it's a worthless state of matter.
Viktor takes a long breathe in, as far as he can with his weak lungs, without them resisting and coughing from strain. His hands loosen on Jayce's arms and pat him,]
The water's gone cold. Let us get to bed.
no subject
jayce waits until he's turned his back to sniff and squeeze the water dripping off his long hair. he gets viktor's towel first, hangs it by him, then retrieves his own to begin drying off from top to bottom. hair first, rigorous rubbing, then his neck, face, back, legs— his arms and backside are meant to be for last, once he finds the proper footing to stand. instinctually, he leaves no weight to his affected leg, and uses the wall to help him maneuver out of the way. ]
I got us some clothes.
[ he's sure viktor can take care of himself from here, but jayce hangs back anyway, his presence a quiet, hovering shadow. he takes his brace in the meantime, gives it a disappointed frown, before he hooks the highest metal strap into his palm, and . . . well, he waits a bit, tying the ends of the towel around his waist. ]
no subject
Too much to comprehend and parse all at once. Viktor shuts the water off, Jayce having made his way out and begun drying himself. The offered towel is taken and he remains in the foot of the bath to pull it around his shoulders. He runs it through his hair first off, not wanting to drip all over his back and collar once he pats those down. Best to do that delicately and not multiple times, with the runes dug into him now stingingly clean.
He scoots back so he can stretch his hexcorified leg out long and shake it. Extra water comes out. Bizarre. What is the space even like in there? Viktor's scientific mind considers if he could do a self dissection- How Jayce would protest that kind of idea. He'll be keeping that to himself.
At the mention of clothes, he looks relieved.]
Anything clean will feel nice. Thank you, Jayce. [to have to crawl back into filthy clothes would really undercut the purpose of the bath. He'd probably just go to sleep naked if that were his only other option, though Viktor can grasp how awkward that would be.
It's already going to be awkward. He's just too tired to care about it. He hopes Jayce can stand him being so selfishly dismissive of said atmosphere between them. Viktor will finally crawl himself up onto the ledge of the tub and finish drying up, reaching for his back brace to consider. Probably shouldn't put it back on until morning, it's clearly been overused and left long lines of welts dug into his skin. Only slightly eased by the warm water, bright back to reddened brightness by the cold that followed. He's marked up like an assignment at the Academy about now, flaws and mistakes all highlighted with colored ink across the pale parchment of his skin.
He'll put on clothes if Jayce brings them to him, he's spacing out for the time being.]
no subject
he'd hand the folded bundle of clothing to his partner, to which— the t-shirt is baggy with a picture of a bowl of fruit on it, along with brown, cotton slacks.
the air around them feels taxed. terribly awkward. jayce could imagine why, and . . . there's not much else he could do about either of those things. he's lucky viktor still tolerates him in the same room. grateful, even. he places a hand on the door frame to prop himself up and lean his weight elsewhere. despite their quiet, and understandably so, jayce still asks, with gentle query and his eyes beneath disorderly bangs: ]
Viktor?
[ he doesn't really have to add anything else to complete its meaning. he's worried about him. ]
no subject
If he hadn't pushed away Jayce back home, isolated himself in his desperation, maybe things would have been different. Viktor cannot hope to make things different now, but he wants to be better. For his sake, for Jayce's sake... for the sake of helping anybody else they can. It had always been their dream.]
... just thinking. I'll follow along soon. [said as a promise, Viktor focusing on finishing drying himself off before he'll turn to get the clothing Jayce brought him.
It might take him ten minutes to collect himself fully, but Viktor will join the other man at the bed. He barely takes up any room, so Jayce can stretch out to his own comfort.]
no subject
jayce opens his mouth, hitches a breath in to speak— and subsequently closes it, his exhale quiet through his nose. he may have ruined what little composure they had, with all this palpable tension and the massive elephant in the corner of the room. jayce doesn't exactly regret it, but he does feel responsible. his gut feeling tells him that now is not the time to touch upon it either, and perhaps ever. if viktor would like to focus his energies elsewhere, that's . . . okay. he was more than valid for that. ]
I, uh, [ jayce starts, ] don't know if I'll sleep.
[ he really doesn't; it's doubt more than a wish. he tries, anyway, but rather than stretching his legs, jayce curls into himself, facing the wall so that viktor could have his space. this was the only position he was able to momentarily get chipped rest for nearly a year. even when the surface beneath him wasn't rock hard, or frigid, it didn't feel like he could fathom of sleeping in any other way. ]
We can move when we're ready.
[ it could be in . . . three hours, or five. less. that would depend, and jayce would be ready to fetch a truck full of dog shit if that's what viktor asked of him. ]
no subject
His curled knuckled touch Jayce's back, making a little knock-knock gesture. Trying to ease the mood, sheesh, they're going to suffocate from the tension in this room if they're not careful.]
Try, won't you? Might surprise yourself... best sleep of your life. Think about that.
[Viktor wiggles his shoulders back into the mattress and pillow to settle in before letting his head tilt and fall to the side facing Jayce. He can only see the hulking outline of the man in the dark. He thinks to say something else, but instead blinks his eyes, then closes his eyes, then Viktor is out like snuffed candle. His hand at Jayce's back remains there, slumped with his knuckles resting to Jayce's shoulder blades.
Probably not the best sleep of his life, but he'll take what he can get.]
no subject
he was getting bad at this, wasn't he? ]
Maybe. [ his hand reaches over the horizon of his arm to cup viktor's in gentle agreement. how many times had he seen viktor's apparition before him in front of the fire, begging him to say something, to touch him back, and all he'd get was empty eyes and silence. was this real? jayce almost had a crawling need under his skin to make sure. perhaps it's a bit delayed, and he doesn't let go, his thumb beginning to graze bone with tentative, maybe even excessive affection for one still reeling from too much in one day, before he turns his head halfway to look at him. make sure he was breathing. jayce feels his chest swell what felt like three times its size. ] Good night, Viktor.
[ he's asleep already. perhaps he didn't hear it, or feel what he did. maybe for the better of he didn't want to keep confusing him. jayce leaves it at that, allows his grip to slip away and keep to himself. he's more than grateful for every second he could still feel the weight of viktor's hand on his shoulder, rising and falling with the expanse of his brittle lungs. that's probably the only way jayce finds himself drifting away, eventually. viktor was with him.
jayce whimpers in his sleep. soft breaths of drowsy pain or fright. he shivers and curls further and further into himself; sometimes he jolts, through most of it he sweats cold. eventually, when he awakes in quick, shallow breaths of panic, he cannot immediately recall what he dreamed of— only that he was afraid, wildly tracking his eyes around his surroundings, with his heart about to hurl from his throat.
he realizes there is a hand still on him when he tries to squeeze himself.
the only way jayce calms is to turn towards viktor, careful, still in hopes that he hasn't disturbed him. he calms his breathing by watching him, matching him, taking his hand into his clammy palms and scooting just a bit closer. not by too much. just a bit. connecting his moles and observing his uneven cupid's bow soothed his startled heart and reminded him of his devotion. he was so close he could . . . brush his hair back. or press their foreheads together—
but he does not. his yearning would have to do, and eventually it's enough for him. he sleeps again, holding viktor's hand until a few more hours of botched rest. whether they still wake up to that and if it's addressed is another story.
jayce won't bring it up if viktor doesn't. ]