JANUARY TDM/EVENT

[monstertruckers]

code

The storm drives the Convoy to the very summit of the mountains, before hitting a blinding pitch. The wind howls and drives snow in a way that promises to freeze everything… And there’s also a twist of smoke in the air, to further blind everything.

There’s one thing visible through the storm: a massive fortress clinging to the side of the mountain. The Convoy pulls up into the shelter. It seems this will be the best place to wait out the weather, even if the storm lasts for weeks.

It’s a cold welcome for new arrivals. The garage offers scant protection from the elements, and a winter storm rages outside. Snow, lighting, and thunder all blend together and do their best to break the windows and doors of the structure.

The storm itself shows no signs of abating, at least until several days have passed. So it’s up to the new arrivals to figure out how to survive the storm, find better shelter… And weather the strange changes foisted onto them.

01: SUMMONING CIRCLE

New Drifters arrive to a cold and half frozen garage, almost swallowed up by snow drifts. The Convoy is just visible through sheets of snow falling from the skies, and it is parked in the shelter of a nearby fortress. Getting out of the garage and reaching the fortress will take some work, though.

Starting with digging out through the snow. At least there’s a shovel or two inside the garage and the gas station. But digging through the snow is still cold work, and it’s imperative to duck back in the garage and find ways to warm up.

There’s still a small fire burning in the corner of the garage, near the summoning circle. It curiously doesn’t seem to need fuel to keep burning… Though throwing more on it will certainly increase the heat of the flames. Be advised that the fire will also burn clothing and flesh if a Drifter gets too close to it.

02: FORTRESS

The abandoned fortress offers some reprieve from the elements… But the prior battles have found a way to seep into the stones. Ice and Fire both have an effect on the surroundings.
+FIRE Condition: Arcane lava is flowing through the foundations and seeping up through the stones of the building. This is especially clear in the kitchen and dining hall. It may be toasty to the touch, but it also threatens to set things aflame; objects and people alike. Drifters weak to fire will suffer from the increased temperatures.
+ICE Condition: The extremes of the fortress are freezing over in enchanted ice, leaving only the main hall and kitchen with any heat. Drifters who lack ice affinity risk frost bite and hypothermia while exploring the other areas of Bastion. Direct contact with the ice also carries a risk of encasing the limb or the entire Drifter in ice. Might need some help getting chipped out.

In the midst of all this, there are still rooms and beds available for those who want a change of pace from the convoy, or bedrolls for those who want to camp out in the main hall.

03: START UP

After digging out, one can see that there are various cars surrounding the garage. Some of them parked directly outside and sheltered from the worst of the storm. But a few are further out, and will also need to be dug out of the snow.

There’s also a certain connection between different newcomers and cars. Something that suggests a particular vehicle is theirs, backed up by possessing the key to that vehicle. 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 supplies… Now it’s just a matter of finding some extra hands.

04: WILD ELEMENTS

Even when taking shelter in the fortress, the storms from outside have a way of seeping through the bricks. And trying to take root inside any Drifters. Cold mists and winds seep into the castle, along with fire traveling across the floors and lightning crashing against the roof.

Drifters exposed to extreme elements will find those same elements seeping into their blood.

Teeth also grow along portions of the walls in long fangs, ready to snag at any newcomers. Drawing blood on those teeth can result in changes in the new arrivals… As well as pulling a monster out of the hallway to try and draw more blood.

These monsters frequently manifest as:
+Gyuki, a spider and bull demon fusion.
+YinYang, a Frankenstein abomination
+And Malzeno, a strange eldritch dragon.

05: FUEL PUMPS

The fortress also holds a network of pipes leading through the halls and connecting to the gas station. Text from the Convoy asks for at least a few Drifters to follow the pipes to their source, and activate them. Following those pipes leads to a chamber in the base of the fortress, with basins full of liquid.

Glowing and quicksilver liquid, at that. Liquid that looks like it could have been poured straight out of the moon. An inscription on the tanks reads “Moonshard fuel refinement” while a stack of papers details the various attempts to distill moonshards into an energy usable by humans without mutating them. It seems they’ve mostly succeeded with this attempt: once the valves are turned on, the fuel can be pumped into the Convoy and top off almost depleted fuel tanks.

But there is still a risk. Coming into contact with the fuel can instill a sudden, ravenous hunger and push new changes to the front. Prolonged exposure activates all traits at once, and will only revert the person when another monster has been hunted down, and their energy absorbed.

06: IF THESE WALLS COULD TALK

The walls of Bastion reach an impressive 20 feet up and stretch for long distances… And have Husks merged into them, often in the hallways and occasionally in the rooms. The Husks clearly belong to either the Silver Tear or the Steel Wardens, given the insignias on them. Many of them are locked together, frozen in a fight. And their last words and thoughts are written on the walls in gold and silver script.

Most of the words are frantic, about defending the moon shards from heretics or freeing the moon shards from confinement. But if any of the words are read aloud, the Husks react by merging together and spawning a berserk heavy tank/tankceratops. Or a large Burner type monster. OR a dragon dinosaur with exploding, punching fists. Drifters may also get caught up in the monster changes, and fuse their own monster forms together!

07: MONSTER FUSE

An element saturation isn’t the only strange thing in the fortress. Anyone who makes contact with the fortress stones will find themselves building a resonance with a fellow Drifter. This grows stronger the more time they spend in the fortress.

Until finally the bond solidifies on the next change the Drifters go through and hits a fever pitch. The next threat they encounter WILL force a transformation. When that happens, their next change fuses their two monster forms together into something new.

Their fusion form is a combination of two Drifter’s traits. It is also twice the size it would normally be, and is well suited to taking on any giant sized monsters. It can even give Drifters a brief insight into the memories of their partner, as the fusion takes place.

When this happens, both Drifters can switch control over their merged form. Those with greater synchronism will have more control, while those who squabble and fight will find that their monster form becomes more feral and savage. This fusion lasts until the threat abates: when that happens, the fusion breaks apart, and Drifters return to their prior state.

08: STORM CALL

There’s something outside that isn’t just the storm; it calls out in a howl that can make the blood run cold, and also pulls at one’s feet. Until it hits a point where the Bastion doesn’t feel like a restful place. Drifters who hear the storm call need to step outside and find the source; the storm itself isn’t particular on if they search on their own feet, or behind some wheels.

Drifters who travel on their own feet will swiftly be overwhelmed by the storm, and a moon warp hiding in the snow, and forced to transform. It doesn’t help that there’s wild saber-tooth Barioth wyverns prowling the wilds and ready to pounce.

Being inside a vehicle helps to shield them from the worst of the storm and the changes, and also gives Drifters more traversal options:
Tough cars are capable of wading through even the deepest snow without getting bogged down, as well as towing any stricken or stuck vehicles out of the drifts.
Fast vehicles can follow rivers of fire and lava that move through the wilds, without burning up due to prolonged exposure.

Eventually Drifters will find their way towards the summit of the mountain, and the discovery waiting beyond.

09: MONSTER CHANGES

Between the weird fuel, the teeth in the fortress, and hostile elements trying to force changes, new arrivals can quickly find their humanity getting worn away and new monster transformations taking place.
With the cold weather and regal structures, the environment calls out to Undead. As long as the elements rage, all Undead traits are available and also:
+Warm Blood: Undead can easily track living bodies through the wilds and the fortress, sensing the warmth of their blood in contrast to the storm.
+Rivalry: Tends to form rivalry with other Undead monsters, becoming territorial and protective of potential food sources.
+Ice Affinity: Undead find themselves better preserved by the cold and thriving in it, energized and strengthened by the snow, and even taking on glowing blue veins and eyes.
+Fire Fear: The presence of fire inspires aversion, and even terror and need to flee from it. Smaller flames like candles provoke unease, larger flames like a bonfire result in more panic.
+Holy Symbols: Presence of Steel Warden symbols (a sword piercing moon) can cause unease in Undead, and even repel them a location.
+Snow Shift: Exposure to snow forces the Undead into a more bestial form. This could resemble a bat, wolf, or deer/horse/bull.

10: FROZEN HEART

At the summit of the mountains is a collection of freakishly tall and twisted trees. In their branches is a collection of frozen hearts growing like strange fruit. And further up is a massive object that looks like a deer skull with branching antlers. The ice storm flows from its eyes and mouth… And it shows no signs of ceasing without destroying the skull.

The frozen hearts are giving off a cold aura that freezes anything that doesn’t resist ice. Drifters will need to neutralize the hearts to dispel the cold aura. The hearts can be melted by fire, shot down with ranged weapons, magic, etc. When burned, the hearts give off a smoke that causes a terrible hunger and need to hunt in anyone who inhales it. Shattered heart shards also rain down and embed themselves in Drifters, and cause a berserk fury in those they cut.

But with each felled heart the barrier of the skull weakens, as does the storm. When the last of the frozen hearts falls, the storm skull fractures and breaks apart like brittle ice. Drifters can deliver the finishing blows, ending the storm in the process. After that, the way down the mountain becomes clear, and the Convoy may continue down without worry.

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.

Fortress Library: Books and screens seem to have fused together. Assorted data about monsters is on display here; everything from hunting strategy to contradicting praise of their strength. (Read: all lore information from the monster pages is available IC.)

Dining Hall: This time around the gas station and garage are empty of supplies… But there’s plenty of preserved foods in the castle kitchen and dining hall. Though the hot dishes are almost painfully spicy, and the cold served foods can almost freeze a mouth shut.

Snow Fields: Surrounding the fortress are fields of snow, ready to bog down anyone who wanders too far into them. It would be next to impossible for anyone to make it far on two feet without the aid of a vehicle… Or the aid of a monstrous transformation.

Fire Snow: The storm can wildly swing between temperatures, from freezing to burning with how the snowflakes fluctuate. They can suck warmth out of a Drifter’s body on contact, or risk burning any exposed skin.

Armory: The Steel Wardens kept an armory and arena close by for sparring. Various weapons and armor are stored here; some antiquated, some modern and augmented with technology. And everything but the older models are badly damaged by the elements; frozen over and metal crackled, or half melted from fire. They won’t have much use as weapons, but could be used as metal materials.

View from the Peaks: When the storm clears, one can look out from the peaks and see what’s next. A strange, twisted landscape stretches out below the peaks. And beyond that is something on the horizon; a massive city reaching upwards, and the buildings intact and gleaming. Going back to the Convoy reveals a new update in the database: Nirvana is near. And will be reached in an estimated 60 days from now.


NAVIGATION || RESERVES || APPLICATIONS

Comments

[propatriamori]

Yeah, so much for sneaking. The vibrations that thing give off are huge, almost like the thing that blotted out the sky in the cave, and Edward can taste its electricity in the air.

Donnie reacts faster than Edward does, and they land on the floor in a tangle as the electricity moves above them, severing the line of silk. As soon as the electricity has past, Edward rolls over and clambers to his feet, pulling Donnie back up.

The husks have finished forming, and the shape they've taken makes Edward groan. It's a massive, hulking lizard shape, with long claws and a mouthful of electricity.

"Always dinosaurs," he mutters. "It's always dinosaurs with this place!"

[purplexing]

"Or, you know, dragons," Donnie points out, because as much as dinosaurs would be the more scientific assumption, the creatures he's been seeing definitely slant more towards the fantastical.

Despite the fact that it easily dwarfs the two Drifters, it seems quite fixated upon them, and now that it's fully freed from the wall, there's nothing stopping it from leaping at them, like an oversized cat intent on slamming its paw onto some mice. Except it goes completely over them, tail trailing much too close for comfort as it turns. The charged air ruffles Donnie's feathers, and he pulls his hand back as he feels static leap from it towards Edward when he tries to hold it in front of the man.

"Ow- sorry!"

It's not helping things, really. He's already twitchy, wanting to fly, but this thing seems faster than it looks, and any potential openings seem to be anticipated by the beast as it moves again, like it's taunting them.

[propatriamori]

Hey, Edward can't see them, he's not getting the little details of the things that try to eat them one hundred percent accurate.

When the beast launches over them, Edward ducks, instinctively flattening himself out. Much like Donnie wanting to take flight, Edward wants to retreat to the walls and the ceiling, but doing so would entail leaving Donnie behind and exposed. He won't do that. He can't do that.

The static charge from Donnie's hand catches Edward in the chest, and he jolts. It doesn't hurt, exactly, but there's a lingering after-effect. It's almost like bright spots appearing in the vibrations, glowing orbs that form between he and Donnie and start shivering and stretching. One of them touches Edward's second elbow, and it's like a magnet has caught him. As much as he struggles and pulls against it, he can't get his arm free. And the orb is stretching towards Donnie, dragging Edward along with it.

"Don't touch the orbs!"

He knows Donnie doesn't like the hive mind, but Edward also knows that Donnie can't sense these things the way he can. So, with a significant amount of apologetic emotion coming with it, Edward shares the vibrations with Donnie, so he can avoid the orbs that are closing in on him.

[purplexing]

"The wha-???"

Donnie's fixated on the zinogre so he has no idea what all Edward is going off about. What orbs?!

There's a sharp intake of breath from him when Edward overlays his senses with his. He's unprepared for this extrasensory addition, but he at least immediately sees what the purpose is.

But what are they? Some sort of hidden trap that the giant beast has laid out? Donnie tries to keep apart from Edward but he's unsettled by how intent they seem to be in following him, concentrated between them. Suddenly caught up in trying to avoid something previously unseen, that flight response kicks in- a mistake as he hears the zinogre's shriek. He doesn't see its tail until it's right upon him, not that he's flown very high, but the world goes bright and then dark in all of a split second as the shock punches through him. Body seizing, he's flung right at Edward then.

[propatriamori]

Later, it will occur to Edward that he was able to sense vibrations in the air, something he's never done before. His recent snowball fight with Donnie and Leo was evidence enough of that; once something is airborne, he loses it. But now, the orbs appear bright and clear, as does Donnie when he flaps his wings and lifts off the ground.

As does the zinogre's tail when it smacks Donnie out of the air like a baseball bat hitting a ground ball.

Edward reacts with pure instinct, zipping forward with all four arms open, catching Donnie when they collide and keeping him from falling. The arm with the orb on the elbow whips around, embracing Donnie across his midsection, and the orb immediately grows, leaking from Edward and spreading across Donnie.

At first, Edward thinks the zinogre has sent another jolt of electricity at them; he goes rigid, all his muscles suddenly tense, every hair on his body standing straight up. Then there's a sensation of melting, but there's no pain, just a feeling of change, of becoming something different.

Waves of bright, neon purple fill the vibrations as he starts to melt faster.

[purplexing]

Blearily, Donnie lifts his head as he tries to blink back his vision to clarity. He's vaguely aware of Edward there holding him, but once he realizes those strange orb-things from earlier have enclosed upon them, he gasps.

"Wh....what's happening..?" he stammers, but his voice sounds strangely echoing as he feels himself disintegrating, and the brightness around threatens to completely swallow his sight.

Molecules breaking down, reforming. He finds it more difficult to hang onto fear as his consciousness feels like it's suddenly submerged underwater, the world strangely muffled, but something is happening, he knows. Gradually there's some awareness of limbs being knit back together; he hasn't been completely torn apart, just momentarily displaced.

I like how we're playing 'describe what they turned into' chicken lol

[propatriamori]

Edward can't move his throat to answer Donnie's question, can't even form words as the melting sensation intensifies, but he can send out a colour with the hive mind. Through the bright purple filling his head--which doesn't seem threatening, more friendly, almost soothing--he sends out a pulse of dark khaki green, the colour of his jacket.

Whatever's happening, they're in it together.

The feeling of melting doesn't last much longer. It shifts, changes into a feeling of stretching, of growth. It's like when Edward's human legs grow, before they split off into spider legs, except all over. And there's a sense of someone else being there too, another mind, two more minds, three more, four minds total, the man and the turtle and the spider and the harpy, all melding together into one.

Then there's a shiver, a glitch--what's a glitch? how does Edward know that word?--in the matrix--how does he know what that means?--and everything snaps back into reality. Edward gasps, and his lungs--their lungs--sound like bellows, enormous and heaving. His mind(s), man(and spider) are filled with brilliant, blinding purple, so bright it blots out the vibrations, and instinctually, Edward opens his(their) eyes.

And immediately staggers, new legs weak and stumbling underneath him(them).

He can see.

lol not me realizing we have not at all hashed that part out

[purplexing]

He doesn't quite know what that color is supposed to mean, but he doesn't have the time to contemplate it as he begins to take on a new shape. His horror is considerably dulled, his conscious still in this weird space between being aware and being blissfully detached. But there's also some mild if disturbed fascination, that curious part that can't help but wonder what's in store next.

But as minds merge, so do memories, fluttering up as other relatable instances are remembered. Surrounded by a slimy mass of pink biogrowth, swallowed, unable to do anything as tendrils writhe and seek an interface, seeping between scales, disgust and uncertainty suddenly blown away as senses open up to information, simultaneous processes, numbers and various in and outputs, data, beautiful data- Mikey, I...am a spaceship..!

Except he's not, not here. He feels so horribly aware of things, like his senses have been keyed up to the highest settings. He's alive and breathing- a sensation that he swears he can feel every stretch and pull of muscle, and everything lurches sickeningly as he tries to get his multiple limbs beneath him. Their limbs? Wh-why are there so many, what's happened, why is-

The hall seems so much smaller as eyes open. Or perhaps it's just that they've somehow gotten so very high up. The zinogre has started to back up, appearing confused somehow, although that's not likely to last for long.

It's become second-nature for him to rely on his wings, and the massive things begin to unfurl to assist with keeping balance, but it's far too narrow for them to be opened completely. As they brush the flanking walls, that feeling of claustrophobia threatens to grip that harpy mind, and Edward's off in his count by one, because another presence is there, spiking that growing anxiety, stoking that feral side that wants nothing better than to close its jaws around something, and there's a huge target right in front of them.

well now I'm going ham on it

[propatriamori]

The memory of being a spaceship nearly brings Edward to his(their) knees. He has no frame of reference for it, but he understands the knowledge, the power, inherent in the form. He feels like, for a moment, he's able to see the infinite, and he suddenly understands a little of what Root means when she talks about networks.

But then the memory flits away, and he's back in the here and now. Suddenly having eyes that work, after over a year of darkness, is throwing him off. The room looks distorted, the angles not lining up or making sense, and Edward realises sickly how much he'd gotten used to the vibrations, and forgotten what he'd relied on before.

Before he can get too maudlin about it, though, that feral rage rips through him(them), and Edward gasps. He forces himself to focus, to look around, to take note of what's happened to them(THEM, Edward and Donnie).

Their body is a mess, something furred and scaled and covered in hard, chitinous armour in separate parts. A pair of wings rise off their back, and while Edward can feel them move, he doesn't think he can control them himself. Numerous legs shoot off the body, too many to count easily, some spider, some bird-like and clawed, others two different types of dog, one black, the other white and with frost on the tips of its fur. Rising from their shoulders are two heads. Edward blinks, and gets a sense for his own, the vibrations coming through despite his suddenly working eyes.

He forgot, he forgot for both of them, that they have canine forms as well. His head is white-furred, his muzzle long and dripping ice, and his mandibles are out, twitching before his snout, ready to crush anything that gets close. Donnie's head is dark, the fur black and almost oily, except where a skull has replaced the dog's face. His neck, though... Donnie's neck has retained something from his turtle ancestor, rising impossibly long and powerful from their shoulders, weaving up like a snake about to strike.

Hive mind. Pack link. Hive mind. Pack Link. HivemindpacklinkhivemindpacklinkHIVEMINDPACKLINK.

I'm here, Donnie. I'm here with you. You don't have to fight it alone.

that's what we love

[purplexing]

Every creak and scrape and rustle, too many points of contact making it seem like they're even more boxed in than they might actually be. This new perspective is almost dizzying, overwhelming to the point of agitation.

He registers the shifting form of the zinogre as that of one ready to retake its territory, the air crackling around it as it settles low, gauging this new challenger that has taken place of the two tiny ones. Donnie's skeletal head opens jaws wide, baying a warning- or perhaps his own challenge, the sound hollow and yet seeming to cut right to one's soul, but thankfully Edward's part of and not on the receiving end.

It seems to have an effect on the zinogre, the beast reconsidering its charge, snarling as it backs up again, its own tail swaying behind it.

Several pairs of legs tense with Donnie's intent to move, sensing that moment of weakness, eager to follow through with his threat. In the moment emotions are stronger than words, but when Edward speaks through their link, he can probably feel that heat flicker. Purple pulses in their mind, wavering.

Ed...?

That's...that's right. He's not alone. He's never alone- but in this particular situation, he literally isn't. He has no idea what's happening and it's scary once he starts letting himself think about it. Maybe having a panic attack isn't the greatest thing when you've got a very alert monster facing them, the zinogre starting to straighten again, perhaps sensing that hesitation in the many-legged canine creature.

[propatriamori]

Relief washes over Edward when Donnie responds to him. He hadn't liked that feral feeling coursing through them; it was so unlike Donnie, too wild and out of control. He can understand now why Donnie doesn't like his dog form.

Yes, I'm here. I'm with you. We'll fight it together.

The emotional cocktail Edward sends over is a new combination, the others muted but pairing well with each other: it's a calm, light blue, the colour of the English sky on a summer's day, and a confident, deep, steady green. Without realising it, Edward has chosen a green fairly close to the tone of Donnie's skin. Congratulations, buddy, you're the colour of confidence.

Even as they're talking, Edward is paying attention to the zinogre. When it starts gathering itself, he turns his head and snarls at it, mandibles clacking sharply in its direction. Ice drips from his mouth instead of saliva, falling to the floor in clumps and shattering. One of the rear spider legs reaches out and touches the wall, testing how much grip it has.

Not enough, as it turns out.

Not enough room to fly, too heavy to crawl on the walls. We have to face it head-on.

Was that too complex? Edward tries again.

No fly, no crawl. Fight with teeth and claws.

[purplexing]

He's okay. He's okay, Edward is here and they're together somehow- okay don't think about that one too hard just yet, they can figure it out later...

Edward's colorful display washes over him, and outwardly, the skull-faced head refocuses, giving the white-furred head a gentle nudge.

No, I...I got it the first time. Sorry, almost lost it there. Too much going on...

It seems easier to mindspeak this way, perhaps because in this moment, one is virtually the other. The skull head parts in a grin.

Head-on, I can do.

He folds their wings back so they won't get in the way, massive claws scraping against the stone beneath them, talons leaving deep furrows, gathering themselves in preparation to engage.

[propatriamori]

Edward nudges Donnie back with the side of his snout, making a soft little wolf whine in the back of his throat. He's very glad that Donnie is keeping hold of himself so well, that he can think and communicate in complete sentences. He'd have made do if Donnie wasn't able to do so, but it's definitely easier when he can.

Then let's get it done. I'll ice up the ground under his feet.

Edward then lowers his head, and spits ice at the zinogre's feet. Instead of the usual little ice balls that come when he does this, it's like a howling winter gale coming out of his mouth, wrapping around the zinogre's feet and legs.

[purplexing]

It helps immensely that someone's there to ground him. That's essentially what he needs for whenever he shifts into cerberus-mode, a focal point that keeps him from slipping into confusion that makes the feral part so much easier to take control.

Donnie lets Edward do his thing, fascinated by this new development of his icy powers. Whatever's mutated them seems to have amped their abilities up. The zinogre howls angrily, or perhaps in surprise as it finds its feet getting ensnared in ice. Seizing this chance, Donnie throws them forward, trying his best to ignore the sounds and sensations of so many legs. He tries to make the best of each of their types, raising up the spidery appendages like blades as they bring them down upon the other creature.

Electricity still buzzes in the air around it, but with it being stuck, it can't try to evade nor use its own claws in retaliation, growling as they slash across its front. Oh, but it still has its mouth, and it bares sharp fangs as it tries to snap at them.

The snaking skull-head is quicker, and with its length he can crane it around and over the zinogre to bare down on its neck.

[propatriamori]

The ice breath is definitely more powerful in this form, enough so that it surprises Edward too. He wouldn't mind being able to encase feet like this all the time!

Their forward motion feels a bit stilted and awkward, with so many legs to coordinate. Edward cringes when Donnie uses the spider legs like blades, pulling them back at the last moment.

They'll break!

Even in this form, he's going to want to baby the spider legs. What they can do, though, is hoist their entire body off the ground and launch it forward, helping get Donnie in position to snake his head forward and bite the back of the zinogre's neck.

And while Donnie takes care of the back of the neck, Edward goes low and aims for the monster's throat, using his mandibles like knives to stab at its neck. The mandibles sink it and then snap wide open, tearing a spot for Edward to sink his teeth into, biting down with bone-breaking strength on the monster's throat.

[purplexing]

There's a sort of hiccup in their connection at that, like a brief disconnect between them. Edward can probably feel a waver in that purple presence.

Sorry! He trusts Edward to know his limbs better, but to Donnie they'd seem like suitable weapons. Well, guess not. But then the zinogre does look pretty armored.

The moment blood is drawn and the heat hits his tongue, it ignites that feral edge again, the eagerness of harpy and cerberus for the hunt. The skull head releases its grip, only to dart in again, teeth crunching through stony plate and sinking in with ease. Teeth are his best weapon in this case, his talons that he'd normally use, set woefully far to be useful, and wolf and dog claws don't seem nearly as useful for gouging.

[propatriamori]

For all Edward knows, they are weapons in this form. Unfortunately, he is so paranoid about breaking another one that he's not willing to risk it. He can get around as the spider on three legs; he wouldn't be able to on two, let alone what another spider leg injury could do to his human legs.

The wolf and the spider inside Edward respond the same way as Donnie's cerberus and harpy: with a mouthful of blood, their vital, instinctual drives to eat, to feed, come surging forth, and Edward growls around his mouthful of zinogre. He lets go, only to stab forward again with the mandibles, and then again and again, turning the zinogre's neck into a gory, bloody mess, spraying Edward's white fur with blood.

The zinogre struggles, but there's not much it can do against their onslaught. The human part of Edward's mind almost feels sorry for it, as it whimpers and slowly starts to collapse onto the floor. The wolf and the spider rejoice, and the spider legs start scuttling forward, bringing a line of silk--as thick around as one of Edward's arms now--to wrap the monster's mouth closed.

[purplexing]

By contrast, there's a surge of triumph from Donnie as the prey enemy is taken down. His teeth remain stubbornly locked in place until he feels the beast's weight start to sag and pull downwards. He releases it then, snakelike neck curving back as he lifts head, opening bloodied jaws to howl.

It's rather spoiled as their own body lurches forward, dog and bird feet running into each other as the spider legs start pulling them. They stumble forth, cutting Donnie's victory howl short.

There's a tingling sensation in the air around them, not at all dissimilar from earlier before they'd found themselves pulled together.

[propatriamori]

It is very hard to coordinate this many legs, and there's a flash of apologetic muted blue that comes through their link when the spider legs lurch them forward. Once the zinogre's mouth is spun closed--a moot point, as it's already bleeding out across the floor--they settle back on their legs, and Edward lifts his head to howl. His breath sends another gale of freezing snow and ice across the ceiling of the room, forming instant icicles and frost.

But now he feels it too, the tingling across their entire shared body, and the bright orbs are back, lingering at the edge of Edward's vision.

Which, he realises, is starting to fail, the edges of it closing in as the vibrations start to take its place. He whips his head around so he's facing Donnie, his wolf eyes starting to turn to ice, and sends an urgent message to him.

Donnie! Look at me! I want to see your face while I still can!

This may be the only chance he ever gets.

[purplexing]

It takes Donnie a moment to figure out what's happening again, feeling like he's wrestling against those feral urges. It's hard when there's a fresh kill in front of them, but even his creature instincts pick up on the strangeness then.

His skull head looks towards Edward, violet light flaring briefly in surprise because he's sure that ice hadn't been there earlier. He whines.

N-no, not like this. This isn't me...

How long will Edward's vision hold before they're ripped apart again? Donnie's not sure, but he realizes what he does have here with this connection, and wonders if he can utilize it for more than just words.

It's a bit of a struggle but it's easier once he remembers his brothers. He thinks of the moments they're all together, his brothers, his father and April. He remembers the times he's looked at himself and struck a pose for the mirror. A bit harder still but he calls up what he can of his favorite views of New York City's skyline. Thinking of such things only brings up the emotions with it, that strong sense of being homesick, of missing the rest of his family, the ache he tries to push deep down, but always it claws its way back up any chance he gives it.

[propatriamori]

Edward hadn't meant the cerberus face, although he won't complain about seeing that either. When Donnie turns, he drinks in the sight of the skull face, as much as he can, paying particular attention to the flares of purple in its eyes.

purple fires

Then Edward is hit by that rush of memories, and he gasps, going silent as his regular body--and here, even the spider form has become common, accepted--peels itself backwards and out of the giant monster form, rising out of the back of the wolf head's neck. He sees all of it, and feels the emotional resonance too, the love and homesickness and all the rest of it. He's a little surprised to learn that the turtle's father is a rat--he'd been picturing an enormous sea turtle, for some reason--but the rest of it he absorbs, trying to memorise all the colours in the fleeting glimpses Donnie offers.

And in response, some of Edward's memories float through the connection to Donnie. There are some from England, from Edward's life before the war: the rolling English countryside, the quiet, peaceful libraries at Oxford, riding horses through the woods, fishing in burbling brooks under a canopy of green trees. But there are images from Revan too, displayed in the grey monochrome of the vibrations: a snowball fight, swinging in spider silk hammocks in a library, hanging out in the Tank, the vivid scent trails of tracking down prey in a snowy woods. Never the monsters, never the fighting or fear or pain of changes. Just the same feelings of deep affection, of family, that was so lacking in England.

As Edward pulls himself free from their fused form, just as his vision fades entirely and their mental connection is broken, one word comes through.

brothers?

[purplexing]

Part of him tries to reflexively cling to what they'd been, already settled with being singular, or perhaps it's the realization that they're being pried apart, rewoven again, that terrifies him. It had worked- impossibly, once, but who's to guarantee that they'll come out on the other end the same way they'd started? That's his overthink again, threatening to railroad his emotional memories.

He hadn't expected a return, and he almost hungrily drinks in the memories he's shown, letting them and the sensations with them wash away his anxiety, even if it still leaves him with such longing for things not in the present. Or at least, not everything.

His senses feel so much more muted, the space around them so much bigger than it had seemed before, somehow more terrifying than when he'd felt closed in. He opens his eyes and sees Edward, hoping maybe, just maybe the man sees him just before they fully reconverge into their more finite forms. His own vision isn't much bettet, blurry with tears.

Brothers, he confirms, a hand reaching out through infinity...