graveyardsmash | TEST DRIVE MEME

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test drive

TEST DRIVE MEME

TEST DRIVE MEME: SEPTEMBER

Welcome to the Ryslig Test Drive Meme! Below are a few prompts to get you started, but you may make up any prompt you desire! Please take a look at the navigation page for rules, setting information, and links to reserves and apps. Have fun!

SCENARIO ONE

You wake up on the beach thoroughly drenched with your mouth full of sand. The salt water causes various cuts and scrapes on your skin to sting and the sand isn't helping. The air is slightly humid, ruining any feeling of refreshment you might have gotten from your dip in the ocean. There are lights in the distance but the unfriendly scent of gunpowder fills the air. If you're lucky, you're alone. If not, you might find yourself staring up into a pair of monstrous eyes or down the barrel of a local's shotgun.

SCENARIO TWO

So you've just arrived, and already SOME the natives are trying to get on your good side. Offers of food, shelter and other luxuries in return for hoping you don't eat them. They even have some helpful pamphlets to share with you. "How To Deal With Changes", "Alternatives to Human Flesh", "What to Expect When You're Expecting (to turn into a monster)" are all great pamphlets. There's even some detailing certain monsters, and the changes they go through. Some of these seem to have been passed down from one monster to the next.

Among these however, are some... not so helpful ones. "Bunnyipyips And You", "Axe Thief Axehounds," and "So you're becoming a Fur Bearing Trout" among others. Sometimes they have marks on them from previous people who had them saying they are lies, or pointing out good "jokes." Then there's the people who aren't happy to see you at all. Glares and silent, judging stares if you're lucky. Torches and pitchforks attempting to drive you out of the town if you're not. You may need a friend to help you.

SCENARIO THREE

"Seek us out," the voice whispers in your head, and before you have time to question it you've found yourself in someplace entirely alien. Maybe it's the Fog God's ghostly town of Dyster, where exultant followers dance around bonfires and sing their praises to the skies above. Maybe it's the Fourth God's arcade, with small robots wheeling about amidst the lights and colors of old pinball machines. Only one thing is certain: you are not alone, in this sacred place.

SCENARIO FOUR

The time has come and you've found yourself becoming a monster. Is the change instant, or gradual? Are you familiar enough with monsters to know what's happening, or is it a complete shock? NOTE: Feel free to pick any monster type for this prompt, but note that you may not get the same one in game.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The last thing Draco remembered, it had been his birthday. He'd gone to sleep in his bed, surrounded by soft pillows and a downy duvet, the windows slightly cracked to let a wonderful breeze cut through the June warmth. He had been happier than he'd been in a long time, just glad that his immediate family had survived the war to make it to his 18th; that the party hadn't been filled with dozens of his acquaintances and hadn't been the party of the season didn't even bother him. He'd gone to sleep content and full of cake and hors d'oeuvres and the knowledge that his parents loved him, strange and awkward as some things still were.

By that logic, he would wake up in that same bed, surrounded by soft pillows and a downy duvet, the window probably still open since he couldn't rely upon a house-elf to shut it when it got too cold. But apparently this morning wouldn't follow that logic, because he woke up shivering, his face pressed against sand instead of a pillow. There was nothing pleasant about any of this, and that was just his initial response. He hadn't even gotten to the stinging cuts marring his skin, nor the fact that his mouth tasted like rank chalk, nor the fact that everything was uncomfortably sticky.

He sat up slowly, spitting out traces of sand that still clung to his tongue, and wrinkled his nose distastefully, glowering around the apparently empty beach. It was both a blessing and a curse: on one hand, he didn't fancy anyone seeing him like this, but on the other hand, Draco had no idea where the hell he was, and he'd rather like someone to yell at about that fact.

Something about the idea of yelling at someone made him feel better, and he made a mental note to do so with the first person who came by.

The great thing about the wilderness is there was always a weapon available and in this case it was a smooth rock, worn away by the waters. Granted it wasn't the same as a knife, a bow or a gun, but it was something and something to carry, something that was an easy weight and fit in the palm of her hand, easily hid, easy to use in a worse case scenario and well, when she spotted the blonde on the beach, spitting the sand out of his mouth, she was wary, but there was no need to throw stones.

Yet.

Who knew if this world was like her own, infected or not, Ellie had not run across anyone to prove her otherwise. At the moment in time the place just seemed empty and her arrival, along with his, didn't really scream logic, more a bad dream or some estranged hallucination. Whatever it was, as she moved cautiously down the beach, following the flow of the surf, looking out over a sight she had never seen before; the ocean, she kept her distance to the frustrated figure, watching him carefully. Tentatively, he looked young enough, younger than her maybe, older perhaps, she wasn't sure, age didn't matter much where she came from but again, who knew in a strange new world.

"Hey."

Ellie called out, only loud enough for the other to hear, hesitant, to see whether fight was necessary, or perhaps she had found someone else in the same situation. Either way, she was prepared as much as she could be.

Merlin help anyone who dared to throw a rock at him. It would be the icing on the cake for him right that moment, adding injury to insult instead of the other way around. He wasn't partial to waking up in strange places, clearly far and away from his parents, and the more he thought about it, the more Draco wondered if he hadn't been kidnapped from his bed by people keen on taking out the last couple of free Death Eaters.

The idea had his heart in his throat, fear bubbling up to both overpower and fuel his anger. But so far, no one had shown up to laugh and kick sand in his face, nor to tell him that they were making demands of his parents. That was a...worrying sign, but tentatively good.

However, the greeting, no matter how casual, had him jumping slightly where he sat, still shivering on the sand. His nerves were too shot for this.

Grey eyes snapped to Ellie, the look in them just slightly manic with anxiety. "This had better not be your doing," he called back, sneering automatically, as though that would somehow make him come off as more intimidating than he was.

Unfortunately, she would be the one to dare through a rock at him because she's not the kind of kid who takes much bullshit, particularly a guy who looks about two feet out of his mind with panic. Panic can be dangerous, someone had said once, but what did she knew, she only knew that you couldn't trust many people and right now he wasn't looking exactly trustworthy with that look in his eye. So in return she only grips the stone harder, making it more apparently that yes, she has something and yes, she will use it. Fear is something she lives with daily, waking up in a new world maybe not, but she's learned to contain herself, at least most of the time.

Because when Draco snaps at her, Ellie immediately is on the defensive and scoffs, her brows narrowing and standing her ground, not moving any closer, not at the moment. He wasn't the most intimidating thing she'd seen in her life, sadly, but that didn't mean she wasn't cautious to a degree. "What the hell are you talking about?" Her reply was sharp, cantering her posture towards him, shoulders set strong, not exactly having it and far from being the person to shy away from his aggressive nature.

"You're the one just sitting there in the sand looking crazy! And even if it was, what are you going to do about it, huh?"

"I just woke up, what do you want from me?" He snapped at her once more, finally moving to shove himself up out of the sand and up to bare feet. He knew full well that it had virtually no impact on making him seem any more in control - he was far beyond that point, after all - but he liked being upright anyway. Taller. More secure, somehow. Even though the very act of pushing himself upright stung like nothing else, tiny, unseen cuts burning.

And yes, panic was thoroughly dangerous, but it served him well thus far. He didn't know much else. She and her little rock weren't really going to change that any.

"And I most certainly didn't fall asleep here, for the record," Draco added for good measure. "So put down that bloody rock before I hex you into next week."

Upright is better than in the sand, but Ellie just watches him from the distance she has put between them and holds little no sympathy for his plight, maybe just the slight furrowing of brows because she can understand panic, she can understand fear, she can understand worry but she handles it in a completely different way; obviously. He snapped and she exhaled, intently watching him go through the motions of a problem they both shared; showing up out of random on the edge of a beach that wasn't in the least bit familiar.

She had never seen a beach before.

"You shouting and freaking out isn't going to help!" Came her reply, equally intense but in a different manner, the lingerings of frustration as she shifted the smooth stone from hand to another, rubbing it between her fingers and not making any moves to put it away. Used to weapons in her grip, or at least the handle of a switch blade, she's not about to drop what she knows can be equally as dangerous if used right. "I didn't say you fell asleep and I sure as hell don't know what a hex is, so no."

A breath.

"Look, just try to calm down."

Obviously. Though Draco has really no inclination to take up her methods of coping with stress and panic and fear, nor does he want any sort of excuse to start. He's perfectly content with his (poor) methods, even if they aren't getting him anywhere right now. There's nowhere that he needs to be except home, and right now, he doesn't feel like there's anything he can do about that. He feels very much stuck.

It's a horrid feeling, especially when he's only presented with a girl who seems intent on killing him with a rock, of all things.

"Speak for yourself," he tells her, sneering a little more. "You're the one treating me like I'm about to attack you." Seriously. He's in his pyjamas. And she clearly woke up first. "You are most certainly not helping any of this."

It occurs to him, finally, that he's not only in his pyjamas, but without his wand, and without the faint sensation of magic within him. He feels exceedingly vulnerable, not that he says as much or even lets it cross his features. He's happy glaring at her.

The beaches of Vandare are not where Damen usually finds himself, but this is about the time new people begin to wash up, or appear out of thin air, or however the fog god chooses to pull in her newest batch of toys. He slithers across the sand looking for faces, familiar or not, who might need a hand in getting out of Vandare and away from hostile locals; his thirty feet of snake body leaves a massive, thick, winding trail in the sand behind him.

From the waist up, he looks relatively normal, if rather large for a person or a naga, and he has a hand on the knife in his belt. When he spots someone moving down the beach, someone not moving with purpose like the local hunters, he calls out, "Are you alright there?"

"No!" Draco bit out at the call, not even bothering to look up just yet. He was too focused on brushing sand off his very nice pyjamas in the hope that it might make him feel somewhat better about being somewhere in said pyjamas with no wand, no shoes, and his hair a proper mess. He was frightened and angry and his skin was stinging something awful, and he'd never done that well with pain. None of this seemed to be going away, which meant it wasn't just a horrible nightmare, and the idea of having been kidnapped was becoming very real indeed.

Someone was going to hear about this. His father, maybe. Hopefully. If he survived long enough to find him.

Draco twisted, tugging a little at his shirt to see if he'd gotten all the sand off of it. An impossible feat, since wet sand seemed to like to cling to wet fabric, which in turn clung to wet teenage boys. He stifled a frustrated noise, then finally glanced up to Damen and promptly screamed, abandoning his task in favour of making an attempt to run.

It failed. Miserably. Sand gave way beneath his feet, and after two steps, the blond went down, stumbling and going back down, face-first, into it. He probably deserved as much. "What the hell?"

Ironically, Draco's father probably will hear about this - since he lives in Damen's guest house currently.

The fear reaction is a new one he hasn't gotten before, and so he brings both hands up in a 'I won't hurt you' gesture. For all the good it might do when he has so much massive snake body trailing behind him as he approaches, albeit slower now. "Easy there. I won't hurt you."

Closer now, Damen tilts his head curiously, taking in the blond hair and probably once very nice pajamas. "I'm Damen. The area isn't safe right now, I'm here to help. What's your name?"

In some regards, that probably wasn't a bad thing at all. At least it was feasible.

And though the gesture didn't do as much as perhaps hoped to alleviate Draco's obvious fright, he did settle the tiniest bit, frowning fiercely. Anyone with the body of a snake trailing after them seemed ominous at best, though perhaps that was merely his memory playing tricks on him: he remembered too well the way Nagini's tail traced back and forth. It was far too soon.

"Help how?" Draco demanded first, utterly aware of how trusting the wrong person could go awry for him. He wasn't going to make that mistake this early on, not if he'd been kidnapped. They'd really have to prove it to him.

Damen pauses, a safe distance away still, not wanting to get any closer if it isn't welcome. He knows how frightening it must be, to meet a man with the body of a serpent (in this case, he doesn't know at all).

To want proof, some kind of assurance, that seems fair, considering the circumstances. "To keep those men with their guns-" He motions over the crest of sand, to where there are only just flickers of movement right now. "-from shooting you on sight. I have it on good authority that 'bullets' are quite painful."

He's quiet for a minute as he looks Draco over again. "You look a little bit like someone I know."

Grey eyes snap over to where Damen's gestured, and sure enough, he sees a flicker of movement as well. That's distressing, to say the least. Not that anything so far hasn't been - he has no idea what to truly make of it all. He wants to burrow back beneath his blankets until he wakes up from this horrific nightmare; he wants to be able to shut his eyes and not have to deal with any of it.

But he's shocked into silence for a moment, mouth twisted downwards unhappily as he stares towards that sand dune. He hasn't moved, he hasn't said anything, he seems as though he's barely even breathing. At the very least, he does hear Damen's last remark, but he doesn't acknowledge it immediately - he's busy weighing his options.

He doesn't know what to do.

"Who's that?" Draco finally asks, his tone quiet and tentative.

Draco Malfoy | Harry Potter | 01

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enjoy gryf-coloured snake, Malfoy

OH NO

oh yesSSSSSSssssSSS

fleeeeeeees

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sup momo, been a while

oh haaaaay

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