monstertruckers: (Default)
monstertruckers ([personal profile] monstertruckers) wrote in [community profile] memestertrucks2025-05-15 04:31 pm
Entry tags:

MAY TDM




Things are a little stranger than usual at the gas station and garage. Namely that gravity just isn't working as it should. Objects float, pieces of the floor float... Even unlucky new arrivals can also find themselves floating! It's going to be a challenge to get around without any scrapes or scratches... Though at least there's what looks like a hospital nearby? Granted, it's an upside down hospital, but it's better than nothing.

















01: SUMMONING CIRCLE


Drifters come to with an odd floating sensation hooked into their stomachs, and instead of laying on the concrete find themselves drifting a foot or two above the floor. An unfortunate few may be stuck on the ceiling. Whether they crash down hard into the floor (and the various vials, daggers, and broken glass scattered about) or remain floating in the air is a coin toss.

Still, it might be best to lend a hand with pulling them back to the ground, and hoping gravity will work as normal in another breath or two.

Once they make their way out, they can see a gas station and garage located in the midst of strange, floating rocks… And an upside down hospital close by, for those who had a rougher landing.

02: START UP
New arrivals will have a similar experience to before; a Convoy waiting for them, and a collection of vehicles, one of which feels like it belongs to them. The key to the vehicle may already be in the ignition, on the dashboard… It may have even been on their person, ever since they woke up in that garage. Either way, Drifters 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 (sometimes floating) supplies… Now it’s just a matter of finding some extra hands.

And hopefully no one's vehicle has decided to float. But one can never be sure in a place like this.

03: HUSKS AND HAUNTS
The inverted hospital seems to have trouble deciding the exact formation of its hallways, whether the new arrivals should be walking on the ceiling, floors, or walls. But one thing that is certain: this place isn’t entirely deserted. Warnings of “Beware the Husks” have been spray painted on the walls. Metallic bodies line those same halls, some of them broken open. A wet trail leads from the broken Husks to the rafters… Where several odd monsters wait to drop down. Some look like they’ve merged with the hospital equipment, while others look like they’ve been cobbled together from different body parts. And all of them look ready to turn the newcomers into a corpse, or part of a specimen collection.

Strange, malformed chimeric creatures that are Unknown stalk the hallways. Unknowns come in three different colors, red aligned with fire, green with poison, and purple with lightning.

Adding to that are the various screens flickering on, and diagnose new arrivals as infected. The screens declare the infection seems to be contained, but requires further study… And if the monsters aren't enough to worry about, there’s also the restraint systems trying to activate and tie the new arrivals down.
04: TESTING (CW: Needles)
The deeper someone plunges into the hospital, the more the building reacts to them. More defenses are deployed, treating them as thieves or intruders. Traps and monsters alike wait for them, with syringes melded into the forms of attackers, or lining places where someone might step or reach for. The syringes make a quick bite on skin… But it’s only a few minutes later where the effects become clear. Something in those syringes is now in the blood and forcing monster transformations. There might be an antidote amongst the supplies… Or the newcomers might need to rely on each other, in order to stay anchored.

The needles can also force temporary Swarm traits, along with:
+Group Mind: compelled to link thoughts with other Drifters, to share emotions, memories, and achieve cohesion.
+An increasing reliance on telepathy/empathy/etc in place of speech.
+Increasing collectivist mindset. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few; this becomes more evident during high stress situations.
+Compelled to hunt and share their prey with others.
+Gravity Affinity: If possessing wings or the ability to wall climb, may freely hunt/traverse corrupted gravity areas.
05: LONG WAY DOWN
A portion of the gas station breaks away with groan and a rumble. And it is slowly pulled up and up, taking a portion of new comers with it! They (and anyone watching) will need to act fast, as gravity starts to go weird the further they rise. They’ll need to find a way back down, taking any supplies from the now-floating garage that they can grab.

What’s more, they are drifting closer to the broken moon, and that seems to be having a strange effect on those stranded on the new floating ruin. They may start to feel their control fray, and their forms shift, the higher they rise.

In terms of getting back down, there’s a handful of tow lines in the ruin that might work as ropes. There’s also a few pieces of rock that are floating up more slowly, and could work as stairs back down… Or there’s just jumping and falling fifty feet and hoping for the best.
06: PSYCHIC ECHOES
There's one last quirk to this area; a few scattered bits of odd plantlife, and the odd dead brain monster. While these things aren't a threat on their own (beyond being unnerving) they still pack a psychic punch; mainly in the form of temporary psychic abilities.

It's possible that after coming in contact with either plants or corpses, newcomers will find themselves gifted with either empathy (projecting or receiving emotions) telepathy, OR the ability to share their dreams with others, and having their dreams influenced by others in turn. This effect fades in just a day or so, but is still capable of causing mishaps.

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.

Broadcast: The garage contains a few burnt out monitors. But a handful of them are playing a message over and over again on loop, filled with static. It’s a recording of important looking people in lab coats advising people to remain indoors and avoiding all objects falling from the sky. Especially “moon shards.” They insist that they are working to contain and cure the infection, but the safest action is to remain inside.

Warped Air: As seen in Long Way Down, the air overhead has strange warped pockets in it. There seem to be slightly different shards hanging suspended in the air, looking more silvery than the surrounding rocks. Almost like it could have fallen from the broken moon overhead.

Medical supplies: Most of the medical supplies found in the hospital seem to consist of healing salves and potions, a handful of healing herbs, and a few antidotes for poison or sickness. As for reverting transformations… It’s advised that new comers be careful of taking any experimental medicine. It may revert a change. It may also leave them hallucinating nightmares and fears, and they’ll be wanting someone close by to help administer the drug.

NAVIGATION || RESERVES || APPLICATIONS













androidvictoriam: (cheek scar)

[personal profile] androidvictoriam 2025-05-22 07:43 am (UTC)(link)
"I don't recall asking you to assess anything about my backside."

The moon in this strange world may be warping them all into monsters, the vehicles they drive may be appearing miraculously out of the ether, but the real incomprehensible magic at play here is that Danse is actually joking--with actual innuendo, however tame. He's begun to adjust to being flirted with around here in a way no Brotherhood subordinate would have dared, and the humor comes just a bit more naturally now. Maybe the stick wedged up there is more of a ruler than a yardstick these days.

He doesn't expect it to be anything more than a joke, or received that way even if it were; Deacon's reputation might involve some things Danse finds unsavory, but philandering isn't at all one of them. He's caught off-guard by the picture of himself--not of his own imagining--that flickers briefly into his mind as he brushes past: not indecent, fully clothed, but clean-shaven and unscarred, hair parted differently with a little shock falling in his eyes. He doesn't think he's looked anything like that since Rivet City, and even then, his face was more torn-up than that.

He looks sharply at Deacon, who doesn't look like he's been caught out in anything he shouldn't, but when does he ever? It's possible he wasn't even the one thinking it, though why anyone else within echo-range would be picturing Danse like that, he doesn't know. Maybe someone's just reflecting on how the gouge carved out along his cheek mars his features. If he lets himself get distracted by it now, the bizarre sausage truck is never going to get off the ground, and then he'll feel obliged to let Deacon ride shotgun with him, and that is enough incentive to have him climbing into the driver's seat to get the project underway.

It works after all, even after a harrowing moment when it looks like the yanking might just make it all worse, and the Wienermobile finally stands tall and proud once more. Danse hops back down out of his truck, meaning to assess it from this new angle, but he can't help letting his attention drift back to Deacon instead. Why was he picturing something like that? It's going to eat at him now.

"Well," he says, loath to actually bring it up, "there you go. Wonder if it's comfortable on the inside."
iron_stomach: (pic#17860757)

[personal profile] iron_stomach 2025-05-22 09:35 am (UTC)(link)
For a little while, it's as if nothing's changed except the setting, and Heat's okay with that. When others spoke of Nirvana, it was all peace and hugs and being friendly to strangers, but that's never been his idea of Paradise. Somewhere worth being should have the things worth having, and part of that ... is simply having meals with comrades. That those meals tended to die screaming and were best raw and fresh was simply the way it was and he didn't want it to change.

So for him, it's almost a relief. It meant the rest were around here somewhere (including Sera), and not running into them yet was coincidence. It's fine, the Junkyard had a lot of people in it and who knew how big Nirvana was.

These ideas are set aside during what passes as 'cleanup' and as Serph reverts back to what would have been a human form, and Agni ... doesn't follow immediately, watching eyelessly for a long moment in surprise so total it renders him silent. Changing back is simply to use finer tuned vision, frowning. His is identical to when he left, cloak and all.

Serph's ... doesn't have the feel of wearing another Tribe's colors, it's not something that strikes him as being a deliberate show of checked blue and white. But it's not orange. The tips of his wings, and why the hell does he have WINGS, don't look deliberately dyed. It doesn't even occur to him that Serph might have simply discarded their Tribe's colors and affiliation. Which meant there's one other option.

"Which one of 'em beat you?" There's only one reason a Leader might stop wearing their Tribe's colors. They might have let Jinanna and Lupa live, so another Tribe might be willing to let Serph live, salt in the wound of his defeat. "And don't give me any 'oh I'm loyal I can't tell you that, law's the law' shit, who was it?"

Giving a name is going to go badly for whoever got named.
Edited 2025-05-22 09:40 (UTC)
iron_stomach: (pic#17860755)

[personal profile] iron_stomach 2025-05-22 09:50 am (UTC)(link)
"That's a 'who', idiot." Rookies. This is the kind of thing they really need to learn BEFORE they blundered across such things. He points at the offending car. "That's their colors. You splash red all over on purpose like a territory marker, you're saying Maribel is better than we are, got it? And you sure as hell don't wear another Tribe's colors."

For him, this is making an effort at explaining anything. Heat is not a great person to be dealing with rookies, he's never been particularly patient even ... before. "Same goes for green, yellow and blue. The Wolves aren't stupid enough to put white all over everything." It's the one thing he'll grant them. This 'honor' thing kept them from bothering. "Since this is the only thing the damn key will start, I'm fixing the problem."

As best he can. It's not going well, but at least it's unmistakable that the orange is very deliberate.
iron_stomach: (pic#17860759)

[personal profile] iron_stomach 2025-05-22 09:55 am (UTC)(link)
What plants can and can't be used for eludes him. They existed, they were supposed to be nice, girls liked flowers and he wasn't sure what a flower was but he kept an eye out for anything that might qualify since Sera might like it, she's a girl .. anything else, irrelevant. It'd be less irrelevant if he knew some of them, squished, could be made into useful colors.

But would it stick to paint? "Yeah? Who set traps like that?"

Sounded possible, weirder things have happened, and that's the exact sort of nonsense he'd expect with certain Atma. But on a plant? He's pretty sure that's not supposed to happen to a plant. "And what kinda visions, anyway?"

If it's more of that 'past life' crap, he'd avoid it. What came before didn't matter, this life did.
bufudine: (Default)

[personal profile] bufudine 2025-05-22 10:25 am (UTC)(link)
Heat's response is... revealing.

Akechi had mentioned months ago that people could be drawn from different periods of time. That there were other people who shared the same world as him, but came from earlier times.

The realisation strikes Serph immediately; Heat doesn't know.

This is a Heat who is still loyal to him, a Heat who only knows the law of the Junkyard and still abides by them even as they started ignoring the law as was convenient. This is a Heat who would immediately search for whoever beat him and tear them apart to take over.

Serph's expression and body language doesn't change, masking his feelings as usual. But his wings spread wide, proud and unbowed.

"No one beat me." He looks Heat directly in the eyes, unflinching. It feels strange to be taking the role of Leader again, but he slips back into it so easily in the presence of old comrades. "There are no tribes here."
iron_stomach: (pic#17860752)

[personal profile] iron_stomach 2025-05-22 10:40 am (UTC)(link)
Eloquence isn't Heat's strong suit, and formulating a response that doesn't end in some measure of aggression in some fashion is a struggle. Assuming the worst is always in comparison, really easy, and less adept by far at masking emotions, his surprise darkens by degrees at the implication, a fleeting moment of hurt buried swiftly under rising ill temper.

Someone's tribe is almost everything. Of all people to abandon it.. he never thought it'd be Serph. If tribe could be tossed aside so easily, what did that mean for everything that went with it? "Huh. What, so you get to Nirvana and just threw us away?"

And grew a fancy bunch of wings.
bufudine: (shorty :|)

[personal profile] bufudine 2025-05-22 11:24 am (UTC)(link)
Serph shakes his head. No. Never.

But he can't explain to Heat why he hasn't mentioned the Embryon or the significance of the orange streaked piece of body armour that he keeps in his vehicle to anyone, not even Jack; Heat doesn't know. Heat doesn't know he killed him. Heat doesn't know that Serph willingly relinquished the Tribe to those left behind.

"This isn't Nirvana." The bottom pair of wings fold forward to wrap around his waist while Serph folds his arms, the feathers tipped in orange noticeably on display. "I've been here for five months."

Which should be enough to hammer the point that their perception of the passage of time is not the same.
iron_stomach: (Default)

[personal profile] iron_stomach 2025-05-22 12:11 pm (UTC)(link)
This isn't the hellscape they would have normally found themselves in, with a black sun and a dying planet. The sky's blue here, the sun is gold and warm and inviting, there's new and tasty things to hunt (even if most of those things disappeared when killed), the floating rocks are a curiousity to poke at, all that's missing was his comrades.

It's vibrant and alive in a way the Junkyard never was. How could it be anything else?

The wings nag at him. A coat of feathers that shouldn't be there. Varuna didn't have feathers. Five months.

This is about where Gale Would Not Comprehend and further explanation would be demanded, the byplay between him and Argilla teasing out answers and perspectives that wouldn't otherwise be spotted, Cielo and Sera preventing panic or blind hungry rage setting in in their very different ways. They would move forward together, unified.

For a handful of breaths Heat's fists clench white-knuckled, short pointless human nails digging into his palms before he suddenly reaches up to tear the ever present cloak off his own shoulders, crumpling the sturdy gray canvas in his hands, the orange paint-smeared brand vivid in the hospital's terrible lighting. Five months.

The cloak is thrown at the winged form of Serph, familiar and not. Serph but changed. "I don't want to hear another word from you about tribes not being here. As long as we are, Embryon is. I'm not gonna have our damn Leader running around like some raw rookie." He'd find something appropriate to update his cloakless status before he left the building, it's more important Serph be properly marked. He doesn't think Serph might reject it, reiterate that there are no tribes, no reason to be proud of who they were together, no reason to stay comrades. It's not Nirvana.

It's not that the rest isn't important. Five months, somewhere NOT where they were supposed to be--

Where was everyone else?
Edited 2025-05-22 12:15 (UTC)
maidhem: (royal maid)

[personal profile] maidhem 2025-05-22 12:17 pm (UTC)(link)
We can keep each other safe, then.

[She said with a warm smile and a strange certainty that came either from a confidence in her own skill or her ability to trust strangers.

Or, both.

Holding the boy's hand, she took the lead through the mess of the dilapidated hospital.]


I just don't know all of these... Machines, I guess? I've never seen them before. But this is supposed to be a place of healing, right?

The healers I've met use potions that they make from herbs they know, and knowledge that took years of reading books or learning from skilled elders in the field. My village has a couple of methods, too- but the icy mountains gave us a gift that we can't really teach others...
maidhem: livebites (Default)

[personal profile] maidhem 2025-05-22 12:19 pm (UTC)(link)
It'll be ok!

[Felicia insisted earnestly, and pulled the step ladder closer. She heard the question, but they can talk dragons later.]

It can't be too different from being in water. If we can push off of something for a boost, we can get down! Maybe!
Edited 2025-05-22 12:19 (UTC)
maidhem: (embarrassed)

[personal profile] maidhem 2025-05-22 12:23 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh...ok!

[She felt bad, as if she were taking up the time of someone who would do better using their skills elsewhere. Felicia had managed on her own before, but...

She really missed Jakob. And Corrin.]


What do you need me to do?

[She asked, uncertain. Helping was something that she did as easily as breathing, and even in this moment she still wanted to try.]
bespotted: (051)

[personal profile] bespotted 2025-05-22 12:59 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It's never been a particularly merciful intent that's guided Diarmuid to make short work of the things he's encountered here. Though he's at least passingly grateful they lack the regenerative properties of Caster's creations, the consideration is a practical one; however grotesque the effort, it's plain he's unaffected by it as he follows the path Sephiroth took around the remains.

Less out of a sense of finickiness, perhaps, and more for some other reason. But that gamble, or maybe something in the words before it, wins a sigh from him. ]


The more you talk, the more I dislike what you're saying. [ His humour comes with a more familiar turn of phrasing; if he's been formal until now, that definitely wasn't. ]

If this pursuit of Nirvana bears any resemblance to Heaven's Feel, you should anticipate the betrayal of any hope it's promised.

[ There's a bitter resentment coiling at the roots of those words that he'd rather ignore, though it's inescapable. A tight grip on his heart is only enough to keep his restless anger in check so long as he doesn't linger on it, and speaking of a part of it so directly strains that hold.

It manifests as a flicker in the substance of his being, too brief to be parsed easily, where difference settles over his unblemished appearance like an afterimage.

He doesn't address it, if its occurrence is something he's even noticed; instead, he seems to consider the man in front of him for a few seconds longer before apparently coming to a conclusion that prompts him to continue: ]


You've treated me fairly, and I have no desire to treat unfairly with you in turn.

[ It would be remiss of him not to offer as much, after all that Sephiroth has shared so much information without making any requests of his own. ]

My name is Diarmuid Ua Duibhne. Know that in this place I have not sworn myself to any Master, nor is it my will to do so.

Nonetheless, it may be right that I lend my aid in this journey—if that is true, then you need not doubt I will honour it to the most of my abilities.
undyingcrow: (smug)

[personal profile] undyingcrow 2025-05-22 01:45 pm (UTC)(link)
Akechi cracks a faint smirk, gesturing at their surroundings. "You won't have much to work with, I'm afraid, but I'm sure you can get creative."

It's... good, of course. That Ren's here. He even dares to step closer. "So, I presume you remember that... interesting dream."
phantomshow: (i'm the underdog)

[personal profile] phantomshow 2025-05-22 01:53 pm (UTC)(link)
That wasn’t a very good answer, was it. Ren can do better. He quietly hums a pensive note, deciding on how to phrase the explanation.

“Personas are like … your inner strength, I guess? He helps me fight.” Maybe context will help more than a definition. Ren continues: “When Arsène first came to me, I was in a lot of trouble. One of my friends was about to be killed. But he gave me his power, and I was able to save my friend.”
bufudine: (hey. a naked girl :|)

[personal profile] bufudine 2025-05-22 01:57 pm (UTC)(link)
Serph watches Heat's reaction with the calm of someone who is long used to the quiet before an explosion. But when Heat tosses his cloak at him, Serph catches the cloak on reflex, momentarily stunned by the offer. The memory of Heat's face twisted in rage at the sight of him is still too vivid in his mind, Agni's claws turned towards him instead of at their enemies.

Carefully, he pulls taut the fabric in his hands so he can look down at the familiar orange cross splashed across grey. He thought he would never see this again.

"...When I was dragged here, I entrusted the Embryon to the rest of you."

He doesn't need to say who.

Serph lets out a quiet huff -- it would be a laugh from anyone else -- before pulling the cloak over his head. His wings are in the way of it draping over his back, so instead he allows it to fall over his right shoulder, orange mark visible from the front, exactly the opposite of how Heat wears it.

"It's good to have old comrades again."
phantomshow: (well i've been pounding at the pavement)

[personal profile] phantomshow 2025-05-22 02:25 pm (UTC)(link)
Ah yes, the dream. How could Ren forget, with the echoes of so many words still reverberating in his head, so many feelings tugging his heart in different directions. He nods.

“I do. We both said some things, in that dream.”

His heartbeat skips, but he doesn’t move when Akechi comes closer. This is good; this is what Ren wants. Better that they talk about this now than ignore it or push it around like a chess piece on the board until one of them cracks and explodes.

“Any conclusions, Detective?”
undyingcrow: (distant)

[personal profile] undyingcrow 2025-05-22 02:28 pm (UTC)(link)
That is the question, isn't it?

Akechi averts his eyes, one hand settling on his hip. That damn sagebrush continues projecting his emotions, even outside the dreamscape. That obnoxious, nauseating fluttering of anxiety. Waves of tension...

"I don't know your intentions, but I trust you realize that I'm far from a healthy, affectionate person."
phantomshow: ('til there's nothing at all)

[personal profile] phantomshow 2025-05-22 03:01 pm (UTC)(link)
Ren’s eyebrows lift in mild surprise. “My intentions?” He hasn’t had time to consider that far yet. One hand slips out of his pocket to reach up and fiddle with a bit of his hair.

“I don’t know,” he says, after a quiet moment, and returns his hand to his pocket. “I don’t expect anything from you, if that’s what you mean.”

He doesn’t even know if Akechi feels anywhere near the same way about him. He’d admitting to viewing Ren as better, but that doesn’t translate to reciprocating his feelings. Ren reaches out to Akechi’s anxiety with a wave of calm, an attempt to soothe and reassure that he is safe with him.

“I know who you are - at least, I like to think I do. I don’t expect you to change who you are just because you know that I -”

He halts, tongue tripping over the words. A trickle of fear and anxiety creeps into the cloud of love and hope pulsating from Ren. Even with all his confidence and his collected demeanor, he’s still a little bit afraid this won’t go over well. But that’s what it means to be brave, right? Facing fear directly, in spite of it. Ren pushes off the side of the van and closes the distance between the two of them.

“I love you,” he says, gaze upturned so he can observe Akechi’s expression. “That doesn’t have to mean anything more than you want it to. But it’s the truth, and you should know it.”
Edited 2025-05-22 15:07 (UTC)
undyingcrow: (melancholy)

[personal profile] undyingcrow 2025-05-22 03:10 pm (UTC)(link)
It helps, at least a little, even if Akechi's head buzzes with so many thoughts. Why him? How could anyone care so much for someone who has caused so much death and pain in just two short years? To say nothing of the direct harm he did to Ren's friends, his teammates... People Akechi knows Ren cherishes.

Akechi once insisted he hated Ren. It was so close to the inevitable betrayal. He had to, because if he hated his rival, then he could do what had to be done. He could revel in defeating the one who represented everything Akechi wished he could have had...

But it was a damn lie. Even Morgana saw through him.

But what does that mean for Akechi? It's not as though he's had time to truly unpack his own feelings and they might mean. Even here, he's been much too preoccupied...

Funny. He can hear that damned cognition mocking him with that sickening smile...

"I'd much rather you be frank with me." That much is true. It'd be stupid for Ren to lie for his sake. If anything, it'd be insulting. "But if that is how you feel, I trust you're willing to face the consequences?"

Between Akechi's own instability and how others may respond... Is Ren truly prepared to balance this with his friends and comrades? Akechi, selfish though he may be, knows better than to ask Ren to choose him over the Thieves. He doubts that's Ren's intention, anyway.

He'd be disappointed if it was.
facethefacts: deacon fall ow (who is he)

[personal profile] facethefacts 2025-05-22 03:21 pm (UTC)(link)
Isn't that interesting... Deacon gives his fellow Wastelander a confused smirk, because he's certain that Danse has not had even an inkling of a sense of humor since they'd reunited met, and it's a positive change of pace that puts him at ease. It's taken at face-value, of course, for the joke that it is. If he's going to be stuck some place and the only person he recognizes is Paladin Danse, it's a relief to be able to volley that sort of thing back and forth between them.

"Well... I don't think I'd have gotten the chance before. It's nice to see you've shed your exoskeleton." Deacon's tone is dry, but he is genuinely pleased to find Danse has abandoned the power armor that tied him to the Brotherhood. Even if it probably would have been useful in this place.

After the ordeal with the vehicle and everything is looking right-as-rain, he's feeling the same sort of excitement one does when happening upon a particularly good stache. Or any particularly interesting Old World widget. It's enough of a distraction to push those images of Danse's past from his mind, which is good, because the other man moves within close range again.

Deacon nudges him with the back of his forearm, a silent 'thank you' if it could be perceived as one, and then he steps toward the door. "Let's sate that curiosity of yours, friend," he replies, purposely picking that word in hopes that it tells Danse everything he needs to know; Deacon is offering the olive branch here. There are no hard feelings from their days spent with opposing factions. Danse is a synth, after all, and even if Deacon hadn't always thought him a stand-up guy, Deacon's mission is to protect and save people just like him.

He pries open the door and nods inside. "I haven't really looked inside yet. Come on, I'll let you call dibs on something you like for helping me out."
phantomshow: (well i've been pounding at the pavement)

[personal profile] phantomshow 2025-05-22 04:21 pm (UTC)(link)
“Consequences?” Ren bites back a laugh. “You make this sound so dire.”

Any choice has consequences. Ren knows that choosing to love another man, to say nothing of loving this man in particular, is not as commonly accepted as it should be. He doesn’t yet know the social norms of this place, but if they were back home in Tokyo? Well, likely it would be more accepted than in his rural hometown, but still not universally accepted. His friends may or may not approve, but Ren believes they’d understand and accept the two of them being together regardless. His parents … probably wouldn’t, but they’ve barely acknowledged Ren’s existence over the past year, so their opinion of him and his choices only holds so much weight in his mind. None of those people are here, though, and it wouldn’t matter if they were. Ren’s choice has been made, whatever the consequences may be, and no one else will sway him from it.

“I want you in my life,” he says, plainly, with a one-shouldered shrug. “However you’ll have me. If that’s just as your rival, or just as your friend, I’m OK with that. But … if you wanted to try being more than friends … I’d really like that.”

He smiles gently, heartbeat fluttering in his throat. “But I need you to be honest with me, too. If it’s not what you want, if you don’t feel the same way - tell me. Whatever we decide on needs to be unanimous.”

That’s how Phantom Thieves do things, after all.
undyingcrow: (closed eyes)

[personal profile] undyingcrow 2025-05-22 04:29 pm (UTC)(link)
What does Akechi want out of this? How does he even begin to respond?

Ren's right that it's better to be honest and direct. The trouble comes from his own repression.

Really, he still can't fathom it. Friendship is one thing, likewise with rivalry, but what Ren's proposing... It's so open, so vulnerable. Akechi has hurt him before. Is Ren truly willing to take chances?

...

That's a stupid question. Of course he is. Akechi was his wish, and all Akechi wanted...

Ugh. It's so stupid. So laughably sentimental. Simple things, like chess games after school, without any of those godforsaken complications.

"You really are unusual." He's said as much many times before. "Surely you know I'm not one to back down from a challenge."

Whatever that means. It's not as though anyone else could even compare to whatever it is they have.
phantomshow: ('til there's nothing at all)

[personal profile] phantomshow 2025-05-22 04:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Ren huffs a quiet laugh and nods. “I hear that a lot.”

So what if he’s a bit weird? He’s already accepted that he doesn’t entirely fit into the mold dictated by Japanese society. If he did, he would’ve kept his head down and turned a blind eye to that woman who needed help. Ren may not bleach his hair like Ryuji, but that doesn’t make him any less of a misfit.

“I know you like a challenge,” he continues, “but that can’t be the only reason for any of this. I meant what I said - whatever we agree to from here on needs to be because we both honestly want it.”

It’s a big decision, and even though Ren is certain, it’s not fair to demand Akechi make up his mind so quickly.

“You don’t have to give me an answer right this second. Just think it over, OK?”
thetatters: human!. (I saw rise in the heat)

[personal profile] thetatters 2025-05-22 04:47 pm (UTC)(link)
There's a thrilling, terrifying freedom to fleeing monsters in a mortal body all his own. Before Revan, John had been only a hand and a foot: every mad dash had been a chaos of attempted coordination, trying to pivot in sync, shouting orders. Now he can seize on scraps of instinct and just run.

He bolts down the hallway and throws himself headlong into the place where gravity shifts. It's a clumsy, stumbled landing onto the wall that behaves like solid floor, but he manages to keep his feet. The localized physics of this place make no less sense than those in the Dreamlands. He doesn't miss more than a step before he's scrambling around the next corner.

There. A patient room: a room with an ensuite. John flings open the door and hopes for a working shower.
propatriamori: (Default)

[personal profile] propatriamori 2025-05-22 06:47 pm (UTC)(link)
[When she says she's landed too, Edward loosens his grip with one hand and starts patting gently up the length of her arm. He does this so he can loosely slide his arm into hers, linking them at the elbow.]

What time are you from?

[He half-smiles at the strangeness of the question.]

As you know, I'm from 1917. I was born in England and fought in France in the Great War. My name is Lieutenant Edward Courtenay.

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