[[ I decided why not start a new roleplay involving American Truck Simulator, since I enjoy these so much with EVE Online. These will be the adventures I’ve done in-game, but in a different format. ATS just announced their next DLC is British Columbia, and I’m VERY excited. So. Enjoy!]]
Stargrace rolled out of Truckee just after dawn, the trailer full of waste paper rattling behind her like it had opinions about the whole situation. Snow still clung to the pines up there, stubborn as an unpaid parking ticket, and she gave it a respectful nod in the mirror. She was Canadian, after all. Cold and stubborn felt like extended family.
She’d been based out of Reno for years now—long enough that the desert dust had worked its way into her boots, her coffee mug, and probably her soul—but the mountains still spoke her language. Elko was the goal today. Long road, easy miles, plenty of time to think bad thoughts and tell worse jokes to herself.
Stargrace wasn’t new to this. The lines on her face were carved by sun glare, sleepless nights, and a lifetime of conversations with inanimate objects. The truck got the worst of it.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she muttered as the engine growled. “You chose this life too.”
Somewhere along the stretch of highway where the scenery turns into a lesson in humility, she pulled in for fuel. One stop. In and out. The pump clicked and whined its way up to 129 gallons, the total flashing $488 like it was proud of itself. Stargrace snorted.
“That’s not gas,” she said. “That’s a small mortgage.”
She didn’t mind, though—the delivery company was covering it. One of the rare mercies in this line of work, right up there with clean restrooms and radio stations that didn’t fade out mid-chorus.
Back on the road, the miles unwound the way they always did. Nevada stretched wide and quiet, the kind of quiet that lets your thoughts roam but never quite escape. She hummed along with a station that played something old and twangy, drummed the wheel with scarred knuckles, and watched the sun crawl across the sky.
By the time Elko came into view, the waste paper had behaved itself, the truck hadn’t thrown a tantrum, and Stargrace felt that familiar, tired satisfaction settle into her bones. Another run done. Another road behind her.
She cracked a grin, slow and crooked.
“Not bad for an old Canadian in the desert,” she said to no one in particular—and the truck, wisely, didn’t argue.
A Pixel Nomad 