Welcome to Ryslig's test drive meme! If you're considering apping here, this is where you can try your characters out in the game's setting. A few things to note:
Test drive meme threads can be used for your roleplay sample!
Sample scenarios:
SCENARIO ONE: You've just been released from the hospital in Vandare and no one really seems to know what to do with you. The locals offer polite advice but don't seem to want to spend a lot of time with you. You and the other new arrivals stick out like sore thumbs, so perhaps one will spot you wandering about town.
SCENARIO TWO: You've become hopelessly lost in Lager Woods. Paths don't seem to lead where you remember them leading, and you feel as if you're going around in circles. Childlike giggling can be heard from no direction in particular. Suddenly, you stumble upon another character, who seems to be just as lost as you! Perhaps you can find a way out together.
SCENARIO THREE: 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.
So, here it was. Or, more specifically, here it was coming. Now, Jehan had always been fond of plants, but to find himself turning into something very like one? That was most certainly something he had never even thought about, and the possibility was suddenly very horrifying.
The green tinge had been the first sign, and now that it had come to full on green, green as his favorite waistcoat, tendrils sprouting from his head instead of his hair, and, there were flowers on his arms now, weren't there? At least a few daisies and frankly, he had no idea what he was meant to do with those as more came in. One could hardly play a game of Loves Me, Loves Me Not, not that there had been anyone to play it about ANYWAY, but thoughts like this drifted across one's mind when they were panicked and turning green, and...someone had just stomped on a plant somewhere.
Someone had stomped on a plant and that made Jehan incredibly, rather incurably angry. It felt more like the way he'd felt when Bahorel had been killed, a rush of deep heart clenching pain, and then a desire to do something, ANYTHING about it. Not that he knew very much what TO do now, but that feeling someone he was close to had been harmed was the same one he was feeling now, and there was no way that he would stand for it if he could help it.
It was time to go and teach who, or whatever had done that some sort of lesson, even if he was a little horrified by the idea of...of feeding on them somehow. What? No that was...he couldn't possibly...
Which was how Jehan came to be making his way in the direction of the plant he had felt being harmed, even though he wanted to resist, so badly, everything that his urges and instincts were telling him right now. What choice did he have though, in the end, but to let himself be pulled along by those instincts. He could certainly change his mind once he had assessed the situation with what remained of his human mind, now couldn't he?
Remember those days spent in elementary school gym class? The nice sunny ones where they took you outside onto the green, except instead of letting you hurl balls at each other or kick massive dust clouds up from the kickball field (you know, as kids do), they make you sit there in the grass and talk about the importance of hydration or something? It's a well-known fact that 99% of kids will do one thing: start pulling up the grass.
Because when you're a kid, the answer to boredom is usually destroying things.
Apparently one Heather Mason never grew out of that habit, because the scruffy seventeen-year-old was plonked down in the tall grass and ripping up handfuls of it without a care in the world apart from the frustration over there being nothing better to do.
She didn't hear or even remotely expect the French plant-guy lurching in her direction.
But to be fair, in most situations, nobody expects French plant-guys.
Jehan had even, before all of this started, been fond of picking flowers, weaving them into crowns when he had mistresses to present them to, sticking them in a buttonhole, or pressing them between the pages of his most loved books. But now? The whole thing was just wrong, it was sickening, and as he reached the girl who was ripping up the grass, he frowned,coming to a stop in front of her.
Unexpected French plant-guys indeed. And this one looked rather upset, by the way he flinched with each handful being pulled. The plant part of him wanted to feed so BADLY, but he fought with that, thinking that maybe some kind of object lesson here would work instead. And so he cleared his throat now.
Jehan may have been the quiet bookish one among his friend, more prone to dreams and poesy, who attended wild parties with the same quiet, though enthusiastic reactions, but now, he was looking up to meet eyes with the girl, feeling his cheeks heat up, and wondering if they flushed green as well, and then he began to speak.
"I would very much appreciate it if you could cease doing that." He told her, words clear enough, quiet measured though they were. "Mademoiselle, it hurts them. Very much."
Angling her head back, Heather looked over her shoulder and halfway upside-down at Jehan, expression not indicating that she was particularly impressed.
"Hurts them? What, the grass? Grass is a 'them' now? Do you own this lawn?"
Maybe the fact that the guy had a greenish tint and was covered in delightful flowers should have tipped Heather off that she might be getting mouthy at the wrong person in this scenario, buuuut....
That expression, that almost bored, uncaring expression was one of the things that upset Jehan more if this were possible. To harm something that felt, and lived, and breathed. He nearly could not bear it, being here like this. A thorny patch of growth appeared at his ankle now, even though he did not want to hurt her, exactly. After all,she was a feeding source and though he tried convincing himself he was not hungry, Jehan knew he needed it,all the same, needed to survive,to thrive, and to teach her some sort of lesson.
It was strange, how the still rational part of Jehan's mind, the part that told him he was being silly over a few blades of grass, that he had done this often himself, could be tuned out at a time like this, leaving the focus on his harmed chlorophyll loving brethren instead. He had never valued his own plants over humans,and yet, yet, the need was strong, his disdain for the girl was strong, and so were the vines that he saw growing out of his legs just now.
When had he become this? Why? Why could he not stumble out an answer to that now? Perhaps he should step back a little, a few paces,as he tried not to affect her yet. Warnings were good things, weren't they?
"I do not own it, no, but you are causing harm, great harm, and it hurts not only them, but me,myself." He gestured toward the flowers,leaves and vines as some sort of explanation.
"I am one of them now, or I nearly am. Each blade you pull is like a gut punch. When you gather more than one, it is rather more like a stab."
He did not like her, but he did not want to hurt her. A woman? Jehan would never strike out in anger against any ladies in Paris, and he hoped to keep this going here. If he could impress it upon her somehow though...
"When you harm them, you harm me, and the others like me here. I know that it is ODD but I..."
Was hungry. He was extremely hungry and backed up a little more, ignoring the vines that were springing to life and growing out.
"You must not do this. Ever. I will not hesitate to stand in their defense. I cannot help but do so. Do you understand me?"
Throughout all of this, he'd never raised his voice, but spoken calmly even as he tried to breathe deeply, to stop himself. Surely, he could manage that much, right?
Yes,yes Jehan WAS taking it personally, or rather, he was being given a biological imperative to take it seriously at least. Did that count when the biological imperative was new? Well, something inside of him that had not been there before his arrival, thank you very much.
And then the girl was crouching and he was trying to pull back on those vines best as he could, but it was not working, and the loss of actual control was more than an inconvenience or annoyance, it was scary. The look in her eyes,and the idea that she knew that he might hurt her, that he probably was going to hurt her was terrible. She might be the kind of person who destroyed plants for no reason, rather disgusting, actually, but even she did not deserve THIS.
"Salads are..." As a wider vine snaked out, he stopped what he was saying,a and simply looked pained, the result of trying to hold back much as he could. He had been about to say they were disgusting to him, but a moment of actual clarity shone through.
"I am sorry mademoiselle, but I...I do suggest you run. I am not safe, and I would prefer you do not become a victim in this."
Even if she was a filthy plant eater,she did not deserve THAT.
If there was one thing Heather hated, it was being told to run away from something. As if she couldn't defend herself. Not that she was opposed to doing it... but man, when it was coming from another person? That headstrong nature just liked to dig its heels in.
Shoulders hunching, she began to scowl even as she began to back up, away from the encroaching vine-- slowly and still on all fours, like a stalking big cat in reverse.
"Yeah, well... I suggest you back right off. If you know what's good for you."
His good intentions were more or less clear from the way he was obviously struggling to compose herself, but... well. She hated backing down from a fight. Even if her right to deface public lawns was an awfully stupid hill to die on.
Jehan's own eyes were wide, silently pleading really. While he must accept that his life had changed in many ways, this last part of the change was one that he still wished to fight. In life before he came here, he had not been the foolhardy sort of bold that went along with Bahorel, or the fearless sort, like Enjolras. His boldness had been the sort that did not give up easily, one that rooted him to the spot when his cause was worth it, and quietly refused to allow him to give in on those points which mattered.
That he might harm the girl, that he could not harm her no matter what, and that he might not have a choice as far as these things went were all points that he must consider in his struggle now.
"If you continue this, harming the grass, I do not know that I might able to stop myself from harming you, or the others like me. Not when I am so hungry, or when a fully developed nymph comes along. You must get out of here yourself. I do not think I am able to do so now."
It had been a bad decision, going after her, but Jehan had been so ANGRY at the time, so irrationally unable to DO anything else, and now he found he was unable to move away, not now. He shook a little, with the effort of trying to step away in fact. Perhaps he was not literally rooted, but even so, rooted he was.
Something in all of this was familiar. Not in a way he had experienced himself, but well. Oedipus had done his best to prevent his fate as well, and many men, for many years had struggled against such a thing. Was Jehan among them now, he wondered, shaking his head at Heather as she stood.
"Please, is this worth it, Mademoiselle? Is any of it? I am not one for backing down myself when the cause is worthwhile, but this? Is the grass so important to you, as it is to me? You can threaten all you wish, do what you wish, but it will only make all of this worse. I ought not to have gone to you. I did not think...Oh...ODIN'S BEARD! I never meant to be a monster! Please. Go before neither one of us has any chance."
True enough. Jehan had, maybe a little, been asking to die before he came here, what with his impromptu little spying trip, but even espionage, as disgusting as it was, as much as his brothers would never have wanted him to go it, should not have resulted in his ending here, at first wet and miserable, and now turning into a viney monster who could barely keep himself from attacking young ladies. Of course, considering that no one had known that this was a possibility or that monsters like this existed, it would never have crossed his mind, but he digressed.
The important thing, staying away from the girl, was still happening as she backed away, and he was glad of that. Hell, he was trying to back away himself, though honestly, along the way, he tripped over one of his own vines, and sent himself sprawling to the ground.
"Well," he remarked, considering he was a little tangled up in himself and trying to get free. "This does seem to be a possibility for you. And what else should I call a lady I am not familiar with, Mademoiselle Heather? Even if I were going to eat you, I would sooner be polite about it."
And then she was barring her teeth, and all right, that was a little worrying, even though her growl was...well, less than impressive, if the zoo's lion inhabitants were anything to go by.
"Mademoiselle Mason then." He nodded, as he finally lifted his roots to get back onto his feet. "It would seem we are at some sort of impasse, wouldn't it?"
As though angered by her own failure to produce anything but a squeak, Heather seemed to vibrate with frustration, a whir of a growl rumbling continuously from her throat.
GOD SHE WAS SO EMBARRASSED. Even if Jehan had gotten tangled in-- ... well, himself, which could be considered equally embarrassing.
"Yeah. YEAH. I guess we ARE."
Frustration tended to make her sound even more pointlessly angry than normal, and she puffed to herself repeatedly as she stood there looking like an extremely jilted cat.
Jehan had never blushed quite so much in his life, he was certain. If his blushes registered now. He was not quite certain that his new body and form did all of that, considering that he technically would not have blood anymore. Either way, this went beyond being a little shy among some people. No, this was full on, crawl into holes and bury himself there and die embarrassment.
And...Oh God, was she vibrating? Was that a symptom of some other change or other? That was...rather worrisome, quite honestly.
She did sound angrier now, if that were possible, though granted, she'd been nearly victim to a nymph attack, and that could certainly produce it. That and she was a young woman in general. Jehan had kept company with less of those than some of his friends, but enough to know that women's anger was a thing to be greatly, greatly feared when it came out. Trying to repair this seemed to be the best of options but, really.
"This is all rather awkward but I do owe you an apology and introduction, at least." He tried, ducking his head and staring at one of the daisies sprouting from his arms. "I AM quite sorry that I came to bother you. I did not intend to eat you when I felt it. And I still do not, if that might be avoided." There was a beat where he took in the ridiculousness of what he had said and slightly wished for a swift death to spare him all of the awkwardness but it was not exactly to be.
"And I am Jean Prouvaire but call me Jehan if you would, most everyone does. I admit this is hardly a place or situation to develop friendships from, but you should at least know the name of the rampaging french creature who has inconvenienced you."
Heather wasn't quite wishing for a lightning bolt to drop from the sky and put an end to the parade of schadenfreude, but she could certainly understand the 'swift deathwish' thing.
"Fine, all right, Spinach John."
The subtle inflections of the French language were slightly lost on her, but well, at least Spinach John was probably better than Inconvenient Rampaging French Creature.
And at least she wasn't ripping up the grass anymore.
She wasn't quite ballsy enough to do so right in front of him.
Still keeping a safe distance from the tangle of vine and dude, she lowered herself into a catlike hunker-- her own changes had only just begun a short time before but she'd seen enough other people start to morph that they hadn't completely taken her by surprise.
"So what now? Are you legit compelled to go chomp on anyone who ignores the 'Please Don't Walk on the Grass' signs?"
Spinach John. That made Jehan snort, a lot. And well, it somewhat
suited. It was not quite in the realm of the heights of dubious
"sophistication" that his friends' puns were, but he liked it well
enough, he guessed. It was better than "Marguerite", for the daisies
growing on his arms, that was for certain.
"You know, that one is actually not too bad in the scheme of things."
He mused, glad that the grass pulling had stopped as well, at least
for now. "And not so much compelled to chomp on as it actually
hurts when something happens to a plant that I am near. And
well, feeding. I've not quite worked myself up to trying it yet.
There is something so horrible in the process, but my mind and vines
are not of an accord with that. When I cannot, they attempt to take
over. Ordinarily, I find grass pulling disgusting but it should not
mean I just eat people. It's all rather a bit too rude for my tastes,
somehow, if that makes any sense. And allow me to guess, you are
changing yourself? In that case, well, it probably is not much
consolation, but I will at least not wish,or need to eat you once it
has become more evident."
So that was something positive about the situation, wasn't it?
Jeff thought the fresh air would do him some good. He'd been feeling off for days, his limbs stiff and aching and his skin strangely cool to the touch. A nice walk in the park, he thought. Perfect thing to loosen him up. Instead, something inside him was let loose.
The source of the plants' distress would quickly become obvious. The brush on the side of the path was in tatters as the coils of an enormous snake writhed around trunks and branches, flattening everything around it into the mud. Attached to the coils was a man, or at least the top half of one. He seemed to be trying to untangle himself, but with a suddenly alien body, he wasn't exactly getting very far.
He managed at least to drag himself back to the path, pulling himself along with his arms and digging furrows into the soil with his claws. The look he gave the approaching nymph was one of pure terror. "Please," he called out desperately. "You have to help me!"
There were a lot of nymph instincts that Jehan was operating on at this stage, as strange as it was to recognize those parts of him for what they were, when they had taken over the greater part of his body. He guessed that it was true about ones mind eventually being the last thing that went. At least it was what seemed the case in normal circumstances. Personally, Jehan would have preferred to have been granted the option of, well, gloriously exploding in some burst of light and energy before his mind went completely, but he was not quite certain how to go about creating that now that his transformation was almost complete.
How did one go about arranging that sort of thing when one was mostly plant and/or mostly monster? He sincerely hoped that the desire to feed, involuntary though it was, was not the sort of thing that he must follow up with yet, that it was not the time for this sort of action would keep him here, that he really would not, as he'd been told, be forced to harm someone, a person, out of lack of control.
He was angry at the harming of the plants he felt harmed, yes, but that was not...he did not have to act on his most base of base instincts yet, surely. He'd struggle against them the best way he could, in fact, which was why he was pretty patently relieved that the plantkiller in question was not, in fact, all human. He was also relieved that the actual circumstance was pretty reasonable, at least to his mind.
"Of course." He had had some problems with his, uh, vines, himself, and tripping over and becoming caught in them so that it only made sense to plant himself, and wouldn't his friends have laughed at that pun, in front of the struggling party, reaching out a hand while acting as a solid enough surface to prevent more skidding. Hopefully.
The serpent-man's eyes widened at the sight of the nymph, but he quickly reminded himself that he wasn't exactly one to pass judgement. "Thank you," he said, taking the offered hand. Getting his body untangled took a bit more, however, and he was forced to lean on the other man's shoulder, apologizing all the while, until he could find some semblance of balance.
"Thank you," he said again, finally letting go. He stayed upright well enough, though he was careful not to move too much. One thing at a time. "And you're right, I'm not." A forked tongue suddenly flicked out, tasting the air, to Jeff's utter surprise. "And uh...I'm going to go out on a limb here--" Limb. Ha. "--and say that you didn't used to be green? I mean, if what just happened to me is anything to go by..."
Jehan was growing, well, somewhat used to that reaction now that he had
been here for a time, and like this for a portion of it. It had felt
particularly worse as each new stage was being added onto the others. The
daisies sprouting on his arms had , perhaps, been the most alarming, mostly
because those had happened first, and then the gradually watching his hair
being taken over by vines,and now the green and this need to avenge every
plant that he felt being harmed as though they were as dear friends to him
as the violet pot on his windowsill and pigeon he'd been leaving food for
were, as though, even more than that, they were his actual human friends,
were just another part of the process. It did not make the new changes
welcome, by any means, in fact, the hunger for human was quite disturbing,
but he supposed he had had a bit more time to face them, somehow.
For the moment though, there was this snake-man to consider instead of just
himself, which helped rather a lot, actually, in so much as it gave Jehan a
newer, more important focus. He had,after all, always vastly preferred it
when he might help someone, or take care of something than the reverse. It
felt, well, much more useful for one, and if he could manage to somehow use
his new traits for that, perhaps in time, he could grow to enjoy them.
"Please, do not worry about it just now." He added quickly, in response to
the apologies. "You are in a rather dangerous position, I would be quite
the mon..." No, one should not make those comments anymore, when they were
indeed mostly a monster in all but mind now. "Well, it would be incredibly
unkind of me at any rate. Had you been trampling plants for no reason,
that might be different, but as it is, I can hardly blame you for something
uncontrollable." One thing at a time,indeed.
And then that...what in the world? Jehan was left blinking at the tongue a
moment too. Of course, it was not a surprising thing to find, but as sudden
developments went, it was something of a shock. All things considered, the
pun was well advised, seeing how it broke the tension, and sent him into a
burst of laughter, things made all the more amusing due to the fact that
his friends were not here to make or share puns with anymore.
"I...no indeed." He managed, when he was brought back down to the
occasional snicker. "At least not unless I was ill, but never to this
extent. My changes have been at least a little slower than yours seem to
be, so that was something of a kindness, but overall, still QUITE the
oddity. When one questions the nature of humanity and how Man stays a Man
under some circumstances, when one posits that what Man needs the most is a
return to Nature, as Wordsworth does, to connect with it, and to experience
one's own natural self, unformed and unimpeded by society, I do not suspect
that it is often meant it in so literal a form as this. At least, I
do not know many, any men at heart who would put me in mind of only
existing as a serpent or a nymph, or nearly any other creature. As
metaphorical as one wishes to become in terms of that, I myself would
submit that man is too complex a creature so that even in his most natural
state, he would cease to be a manaltogether. Some duality at
least,if not more than that is our reality, at least so far as I have..."
And there he was, gone quite past the original point, and circling back to
it with an embarrassed grin and a duck of that. "Ah, sorry. I might have
gone a bit beyond the scope of question there, and then some." To put it
mildly. At any case, Jehan would not let that deter him for long. "At
least I ought have introduced myself before all that. My name is Jehan.
Jean Prouvaire, but Jehan if you please. And if I might have the pleasure
of yours while we have at least some degree of humanity left to enjoy our
social niceties?"
The pun was unintentional, but Jeff was glad to relieve the tension nonetheless. His own laughter joined Jehan's after a moment. He didn't seem to mind at all when the nymph began to wax philosophical, and was even nodding along, a bit. "Well," he admitted, "I was out here to get a bit closer to nature. I just uh...wasn't expecting it to be this...you know, literal." He looked down at himself more closely for the first time. By now he'd managed to get most of his coils out of the shrubbery, and they were a vibrant pattern of red, yellow and black bands. His arms were similarly striped, though his human skin could still be seen between the scales.
"I've been feeling really sick for days," he continued. "I thought the fresh air would do me some good but then...well...this happened. I'm not sure why it happened so much quicker than what happened to you. I'm pretty sure I blacked out for a while, but even so..." he trailed off, scratching his head and wincing at the feel of new claws. "Ow. Okay. Note to self, don't do that again. And don't worry about rambling or anything. Honestly, I'm kind of grateful for the distraction." Frankly, the longer he didn't have to think about this too hard, the better. He offered a hand for Jehan to shake. "I'm Jeff. Jeff Levitt. I wish we could have met under better circumstances, but well. Can't have everything, I guess." His smile revealed sharp teeth.
The nodding was good enough for Jehan, who could at least see that the snake-man was taking an interest in what he was saying. Sometimes he had tended to lose almost everyone on his occasional trips through the Romantics and especially the English ones at that. Most of the exceptions to that rule had happened while they were either drunk or experimenting with opium, or, occasionally both. So this made a nice change, at any rate. Even at the cost of his humanly (Humanly? That was a word he could run with, maybe) form.
"Yes, the literal nature rather took me by surprise as well. I certainly had not expected turning up here that all of this would take place." Generally, when one had crumpled to their knees after being executed, and literally felt their last breaths,they did not intend to wake up in a mess of water, or, for the rest of this to come on.
"Perhaps it is due to our new species." He mused, now studying the coils. "I do not know much of snakes, though I had always sort of wanted one to keep as a pet, but the development process could be different. And your sickness, hmm...Perhaps because your blood's been changing? I cannot imagine that it would be pleasant to adjust to being cold blooded in this sort of climate. I've been lucky when it comes to chlorophyll and such."
And then Jehan frowned a little, watching Jeff wince at his claws. "If it makes you feel much better, I still tangle myself up in my roots almost all the time. This all feels like something out of a dream." He added, taking the offered hand with his own flower covered one and shaking. "Despite the circumstances, it IS pleasant to meet you, Jeff."
"I don't think there was any way either of us could have expected it," He pointed out glumly. "This sort of thing is just plain impossible where I'm from. And where you're from too, by the sound of it. And the locals haven't seen fit to tell me anything useful." Unconsciously, he let out a low hiss as his thoughts turned dark. If they were keeping this from me....
He shook his head trying to dismiss the sudden anger coming over him. "Anyway. I think you might be onto something with that cold-blooded thing. That's exactly how it felt. I was freezing even with every blanket in the house on top of me. I thought it was the flu or something." He looked over at Jehan, his expression more than a little pleading. "Are you sure it isn't a dream?"
"No, most certainly not in my Paris. " Jehan took a moment to imagine a
scene like that, and shook his head. "Or, not outside of...well, there
are translations coming into the salons now. Fairy stories by two brothers
named Grimm. This could well happen in one of THEIR works, but nothing in
the real world at all." He caught the hiss and frowned a little. "Do you
know, the locals seem to have avoided me before this took effect. But I
should have think that the hospital would have told us the truth no matter
what if it was known. Two of my greatest friends were, no are
doctors..."
Were? Perhaps it was that sort of a situation past his death. Jehan had
no way of knowing what had happened to those he'd left behind at the
barricade when he had made his attempt to gather information in the streets
and been captured and shot for it. He did hope, at least, so much as he
was able to hope, which was a considerable amount, that at least some of
his friends had made it through. He'd seen his closest, his dearest, his
BEST friend felled by bayonets, and it had hurt so much that thinking of
the others falling was a thing he could not do. So are would be his
language of choice until he knew better what those facts were. If he ever
did.
"If it is a dream, it is rather longer and more detailed, and I
have made more conscious decisions than I normally would, but,"
Jehan's expression has now turned rather thoughtful "It lacks the logic of
the real world, and men have been known to cross into and walk among dream
realms unawares before, in so many of the great works. We may well
be at that juncture between two worlds now. Dreams prove to be that
gateway, oh, quite often. "
And then another thought occurs and Jehan is studying Jeff quite closely,
looking for something in his gaze, or about his person that might suggest
the answer. "Tell me though, and this may seem odd, but you were quite
alive the last moment at home that you remember? You do not seem to...there
is not the air of the dead around you, or I may suspect that was a part of
it, that our souls had traveled here, the bodies that we woke with only
temporary shells, and this, the transformation process, is the way our
souls are settling into the next vessel to hold them. It would be be proof
of reincarnation then, but if it is not the case..." He's pursing his lips
and frowning a little. "More evidence should point towards either the
dream, or transportation entirely. How odd, really. One cannot quite put a
finger on this, I do not believe."
Jeff's face brightened a little at the mention of fairy stories. "Grimm! Yes, I'm familiar with them. And you're right. This would make way more sense if it was one of their stories." It was comforting to talk about something familiar, and meeting someone who shared some of that familiarity even more comforting. "But yeah. People were avoiding me too. Like I was diseased or something. Maybe they didn't know this would happen to us, but they knew something was up. And I could never get a straight answer about it."
The question about dying startles him, and his tongue flicks out in thought before he answers. "Yeah, I was definitely alive last I remember. I was getting ready to go to a book signing. Next thing I know someone's dragging me out of a lake. I mean, I guess I could have had a heart attack or something?" And that certainly wasn't a pleasant thought. "But I don't think so. I hadn't thought of astral projection. Like you said, that might be why it was so relatively easy to transform. On the other hand...everything I've read about soul-travel said that it was more like being a ghost. This is...very, very solid."
"Oh good. Some point of reference is useful." Jehan was rather pleased with
it himself. There was at least now something of a basis of understanding
established. Always a good way to begin with that. Comfort was a great way
to describe it, yes. "Nor could I get anything like an answer, no. It
makes me wonder whether this has happened before or is entirely new.
Either way, I think they sense it on us, somehow.
"Entirely solid, yes. and the change in physical form implies some sort of
a physical presence here as well. Death HAD seemed like something of a
theory up until then, but I am very glad to know it is not true of others
here. [He did sigh with relief at that. Death was no thing to wish
on anyone.
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graveyardsmash2014-07-04 09:45 pm
Jean Prouvaire | Les Miserables | 3
The green tinge had been the first sign, and now that it had come to full on green, green as his favorite waistcoat, tendrils sprouting from his head instead of his hair, and, there were flowers on his arms now, weren't there? At least a few daisies and frankly, he had no idea what he was meant to do with those as more came in. One could hardly play a game of Loves Me, Loves Me Not, not that there had been anyone to play it about ANYWAY, but thoughts like this drifted across one's mind when they were panicked and turning green, and...someone had just stomped on a plant somewhere.
Someone had stomped on a plant and that made Jehan incredibly, rather incurably angry. It felt more like the way he'd felt when Bahorel had been killed, a rush of deep heart clenching pain, and then a desire to do something, ANYTHING about it. Not that he knew very much what TO do now, but that feeling someone he was close to had been harmed was the same one he was feeling now, and there was no way that he would stand for it if he could help it.
It was time to go and teach who, or whatever had done that some sort of lesson, even if he was a little horrified by the idea of...of feeding on them somehow. What? No that was...he couldn't possibly...
Which was how Jehan came to be making his way in the direction of the plant he had felt being harmed, even though he wanted to resist, so badly, everything that his urges and instincts were telling him right now. What choice did he have though, in the end, but to let himself be pulled along by those instincts. He could certainly change his mind once he had assessed the situation with what remained of his human mind, now couldn't he?
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Because when you're a kid, the answer to boredom is usually destroying things.
Apparently one Heather Mason never grew out of that habit, because the scruffy seventeen-year-old was plonked down in the tall grass and ripping up handfuls of it without a care in the world apart from the frustration over there being nothing better to do.
She didn't hear or even remotely expect the French plant-guy lurching in her direction.
But to be fair, in most situations, nobody expects French plant-guys.
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Unexpected French plant-guys indeed. And this one looked rather upset, by the way he flinched with each handful being pulled. The plant part of him wanted to feed so BADLY, but he fought with that, thinking that maybe some kind of object lesson here would work instead. And so he cleared his throat now.
Jehan may have been the quiet bookish one among his friend, more prone to dreams and poesy, who attended wild parties with the same quiet, though enthusiastic reactions, but now, he was looking up to meet eyes with the girl, feeling his cheeks heat up, and wondering if they flushed green as well, and then he began to speak.
"I would very much appreciate it if you could cease doing that." He told her, words clear enough, quiet measured though they were. "Mademoiselle, it hurts them. Very much."
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"Hurts them? What, the grass? Grass is a 'them' now? Do you own this lawn?"
Maybe the fact that the guy had a greenish tint and was covered in delightful flowers should have tipped Heather off that she might be getting mouthy at the wrong person in this scenario, buuuut....
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It was strange, how the still rational part of Jehan's mind, the part that told him he was being silly over a few blades of grass, that he had done this often himself, could be tuned out at a time like this, leaving the focus on his harmed chlorophyll loving brethren instead. He had never valued his own plants over humans,and yet, yet, the need was strong, his disdain for the girl was strong, and so were the vines that he saw growing out of his legs just now.
When had he become this? Why? Why could he not stumble out an answer to that now? Perhaps he should step back a little, a few paces,as he tried not to affect her yet. Warnings were good things, weren't they?
"I do not own it, no, but you are causing harm, great harm, and it hurts not only them, but me,myself." He gestured toward the flowers,leaves and vines as some sort of explanation.
"I am one of them now, or I nearly am. Each blade you pull is like a gut punch. When you gather more than one, it is rather more like a stab."
He did not like her, but he did not want to hurt her. A woman? Jehan would never strike out in anger against any ladies in Paris, and he hoped to keep this going here. If he could impress it upon her somehow though...
"When you harm them, you harm me, and the others like me here. I know that it is ODD but I..."
Was hungry. He was extremely hungry and backed up a little more, ignoring the vines that were springing to life and growing out.
"You must not do this. Ever. I will not hesitate to stand in their defense. I cannot help but do so. Do you understand me?"
Throughout all of this, he'd never raised his voice, but spoken calmly even as he tried to breathe deeply, to stop himself. Surely, he could manage that much, right?
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As they began to creep across the ground, she had turned around to face him and was crouched on her hands and knees in the blink of an eye.
It was finally dawning on her that... oops. This guy just MIGHT be taking it personally.
There was a prolonged pause as she stared at the vines, the grass, then up at him. The insolent look had been replaced with a hooded, wary one.
"... Soooo, what are your feelings on salad?"
... Apparently her the insolence in her MOUTH wasn't gone, though. Figured.
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And then the girl was crouching and he was trying to pull back on those vines best as he could, but it was not working, and the loss of actual control was more than an inconvenience or annoyance, it was scary. The look in her eyes,and the idea that she knew that he might hurt her, that he probably was going to hurt her was terrible. She might be the kind of person who destroyed plants for no reason, rather disgusting, actually, but even she did not deserve THIS.
"Salads are..." As a wider vine snaked out, he stopped what he was saying,a and simply looked pained, the result of trying to hold back much as he could. He had been about to say they were disgusting to him, but a moment of actual clarity shone through.
"I am sorry mademoiselle, but I...I do suggest you run. I am not safe, and I would prefer you do not become a victim in this."
Even if she was a filthy plant eater,she did not deserve THAT.
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If there was one thing Heather hated, it was being told to run away from something. As if she couldn't defend herself. Not that she was opposed to doing it... but man, when it was coming from another person? That headstrong nature just liked to dig its heels in.
Shoulders hunching, she began to scowl even as she began to back up, away from the encroaching vine-- slowly and still on all fours, like a stalking big cat in reverse.
"Yeah, well... I suggest you back right off. If you know what's good for you."
His good intentions were more or less clear from the way he was obviously struggling to compose herself, but... well. She hated backing down from a fight. Even if her right to deface public lawns was an awfully stupid hill to die on.
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That he might harm the girl, that he could not harm her no matter what, and that he might not have a choice as far as these things went were all points that he must consider in his struggle now.
"If you continue this, harming the grass, I do not know that I might able to stop myself from harming you, or the others like me. Not when I am so hungry, or when a fully developed nymph comes along. You must get out of here yourself. I do not think I am able to do so now."
It had been a bad decision, going after her, but Jehan had been so ANGRY at the time, so irrationally unable to DO anything else, and now he found he was unable to move away, not now. He shook a little, with the effort of trying to step away in fact. Perhaps he was not literally rooted, but even so, rooted he was.
Something in all of this was familiar. Not in a way he had experienced himself, but well. Oedipus had done his best to prevent his fate as well, and many men, for many years had struggled against such a thing. Was Jehan among them now, he wondered, shaking his head at Heather as she stood.
"Please, is this worth it, Mademoiselle? Is any of it? I am not one for backing down myself when the cause is worthwhile, but this? Is the grass so important to you, as it is to me? You can threaten all you wish, do what you wish, but it will only make all of this worse. I ought not to have gone to you. I did not think...Oh...ODIN'S BEARD! I never meant to be a monster! Please. Go before neither one of us has any chance."
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Heather, eyes narrowed, continued to back away-- but not far enough, or fast enough, to indicate that she planned to run.
"Don't call someone Mademoiselle when your ugly plant tentacles obviously wanna strangle 'em," she growled after a moment-- a literal growl.
One that human vocal chords couldn't hope to produce.
"And I dunno who you are, Spinach Man, but I'm Heather friggin' Mason and I do whatever I want."
Arching her back, Heather rose on her legs, bared a set of sharp, previously-hidden teeth.... and made this noise.
.... Shit that was supposed to sound a lot scarier.
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The important thing, staying away from the girl, was still happening as she backed away, and he was glad of that. Hell, he was trying to back away himself, though honestly, along the way, he tripped over one of his own vines, and sent himself sprawling to the ground.
"Well," he remarked, considering he was a little tangled up in himself and trying to get free. "This does seem to be a possibility for you. And what else should I call a lady I am not familiar with, Mademoiselle Heather? Even if I were going to eat you, I would sooner be polite about it."
And then she was barring her teeth, and all right, that was a little worrying, even though her growl was...well, less than impressive, if the zoo's lion inhabitants were anything to go by.
"Mademoiselle Mason then." He nodded, as he finally lifted his roots to get back onto his feet. "It would seem we are at some sort of impasse, wouldn't it?"
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GOD SHE WAS SO EMBARRASSED. Even if Jehan had gotten tangled in-- ... well, himself, which could be considered equally embarrassing.
"Yeah. YEAH. I guess we ARE."
Frustration tended to make her sound even more pointlessly angry than normal, and she puffed to herself repeatedly as she stood there looking like an extremely jilted cat.
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And...Oh God, was she vibrating? Was that a symptom of some other change or other? That was...rather worrisome, quite honestly.
She did sound angrier now, if that were possible, though granted, she'd been nearly victim to a nymph attack, and that could certainly produce it. That and she was a young woman in general. Jehan had kept company with less of those than some of his friends, but enough to know that women's anger was a thing to be greatly, greatly feared when it came out. Trying to repair this seemed to be the best of options but, really.
"This is all rather awkward but I do owe you an apology and introduction, at least." He tried, ducking his head and staring at one of the daisies sprouting from his arms. "I AM quite sorry that I came to bother you. I did not intend to eat you when I felt it. And I still do not, if that might be avoided." There was a beat where he took in the ridiculousness of what he had said and slightly wished for a swift death to spare him all of the awkwardness but it was not exactly to be.
"And I am Jean Prouvaire but call me Jehan if you would, most everyone does. I admit this is hardly a place or situation to develop friendships from, but you should at least know the name of the rampaging french creature who has inconvenienced you."
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"Fine, all right, Spinach John."
The subtle inflections of the French language were slightly lost on her, but well, at least Spinach John was probably better than Inconvenient Rampaging French Creature.
And at least she wasn't ripping up the grass anymore.
She wasn't quite ballsy enough to do so right in front of him.
Still keeping a safe distance from the tangle of vine and dude, she lowered herself into a catlike hunker-- her own changes had only just begun a short time before but she'd seen enough other people start to morph that they hadn't completely taken her by surprise.
"So what now? Are you legit compelled to go chomp on anyone who ignores the 'Please Don't Walk on the Grass' signs?"
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Spinach John. That made Jehan snort, a lot. And well, it somewhat suited. It was not quite in the realm of the heights of dubious "sophistication" that his friends' puns were, but he liked it well enough, he guessed. It was better than "Marguerite", for the daisies growing on his arms, that was for certain.
"You know, that one is actually not too bad in the scheme of things." He mused, glad that the grass pulling had stopped as well, at least for now. "And not so much compelled to chomp on as it actually hurts when something happens to a plant that I am near. And well, feeding. I've not quite worked myself up to trying it yet. There is something so horrible in the process, but my mind and vines are not of an accord with that. When I cannot, they attempt to take over. Ordinarily, I find grass pulling disgusting but it should not mean I just eat people. It's all rather a bit too rude for my tastes, somehow, if that makes any sense. And allow me to guess, you are changing yourself? In that case, well, it probably is not much consolation, but I will at least not wish,or need to eat you once it has become more evident."
So that was something positive about the situation, wasn't it?
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Sort of.
Jeff thought the fresh air would do him some good. He'd been feeling off for days, his limbs stiff and aching and his skin strangely cool to the touch. A nice walk in the park, he thought. Perfect thing to loosen him up. Instead, something inside him was let loose.
The source of the plants' distress would quickly become obvious. The brush on the side of the path was in tatters as the coils of an enormous snake writhed around trunks and branches, flattening everything around it into the mud. Attached to the coils was a man, or at least the top half of one. He seemed to be trying to untangle himself, but with a suddenly alien body, he wasn't exactly getting very far.
He managed at least to drag himself back to the path, pulling himself along with his arms and digging furrows into the soil with his claws. The look he gave the approaching nymph was one of pure terror. "Please," he called out desperately. "You have to help me!"
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How did one go about arranging that sort of thing when one was mostly plant and/or mostly monster? He sincerely hoped that the desire to feed, involuntary though it was, was not the sort of thing that he must follow up with yet, that it was not the time for this sort of action would keep him here, that he really would not, as he'd been told, be forced to harm someone, a person, out of lack of control.
He was angry at the harming of the plants he felt harmed, yes, but that was not...he did not have to act on his most base of base instincts yet, surely. He'd struggle against them the best way he could, in fact, which was why he was pretty patently relieved that the plantkiller in question was not, in fact, all human. He was also relieved that the actual circumstance was pretty reasonable, at least to his mind.
"Of course." He had had some problems with his, uh, vines, himself, and tripping over and becoming caught in them so that it only made sense to plant himself, and wouldn't his friends have laughed at that pun, in front of the struggling party, reaching out a hand while acting as a solid enough surface to prevent more skidding. Hopefully.
"Dare I guess you are not native to here either?"
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"Thank you," he said again, finally letting go. He stayed upright well enough, though he was careful not to move too much. One thing at a time. "And you're right, I'm not." A forked tongue suddenly flicked out, tasting the air, to Jeff's utter surprise. "And uh...I'm going to go out on a limb here--" Limb. Ha. "--and say that you didn't used to be green? I mean, if what just happened to me is anything to go by..."
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Jehan was growing, well, somewhat used to that reaction now that he had been here for a time, and like this for a portion of it. It had felt particularly worse as each new stage was being added onto the others. The daisies sprouting on his arms had , perhaps, been the most alarming, mostly because those had happened first, and then the gradually watching his hair being taken over by vines,and now the green and this need to avenge every plant that he felt being harmed as though they were as dear friends to him as the violet pot on his windowsill and pigeon he'd been leaving food for were, as though, even more than that, they were his actual human friends, were just another part of the process. It did not make the new changes welcome, by any means, in fact, the hunger for human was quite disturbing, but he supposed he had had a bit more time to face them, somehow.
For the moment though, there was this snake-man to consider instead of just himself, which helped rather a lot, actually, in so much as it gave Jehan a newer, more important focus. He had,after all, always vastly preferred it when he might help someone, or take care of something than the reverse. It felt, well, much more useful for one, and if he could manage to somehow use his new traits for that, perhaps in time, he could grow to enjoy them.
"Please, do not worry about it just now." He added quickly, in response to the apologies. "You are in a rather dangerous position, I would be quite the mon..." No, one should not make those comments anymore, when they were indeed mostly a monster in all but mind now. "Well, it would be incredibly unkind of me at any rate. Had you been trampling plants for no reason, that might be different, but as it is, I can hardly blame you for something uncontrollable." One thing at a time,indeed.
And then that...what in the world? Jehan was left blinking at the tongue a moment too. Of course, it was not a surprising thing to find, but as sudden developments went, it was something of a shock. All things considered, the pun was well advised, seeing how it broke the tension, and sent him into a burst of laughter, things made all the more amusing due to the fact that his friends were not here to make or share puns with anymore.
"I...no indeed." He managed, when he was brought back down to the occasional snicker. "At least not unless I was ill, but never to this extent. My changes have been at least a little slower than yours seem to be, so that was something of a kindness, but overall, still QUITE the oddity. When one questions the nature of humanity and how Man stays a Man under some circumstances, when one posits that what Man needs the most is a return to Nature, as Wordsworth does, to connect with it, and to experience one's own natural self, unformed and unimpeded by society, I do not suspect that it is often meant it in so literal a form as this. At least, I do not know many, any men at heart who would put me in mind of only existing as a serpent or a nymph, or nearly any other creature. As metaphorical as one wishes to become in terms of that, I myself would submit that man is too complex a creature so that even in his most natural state, he would cease to be a manaltogether. Some duality at least,if not more than that is our reality, at least so far as I have..."
And there he was, gone quite past the original point, and circling back to it with an embarrassed grin and a duck of that. "Ah, sorry. I might have gone a bit beyond the scope of question there, and then some." To put it mildly. At any case, Jehan would not let that deter him for long. "At least I ought have introduced myself before all that. My name is Jehan. Jean Prouvaire, but Jehan if you please. And if I might have the pleasure of yours while we have at least some degree of humanity left to enjoy our social niceties?"
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"I've been feeling really sick for days," he continued. "I thought the fresh air would do me some good but then...well...this happened. I'm not sure why it happened so much quicker than what happened to you. I'm pretty sure I blacked out for a while, but even so..." he trailed off, scratching his head and wincing at the feel of new claws. "Ow. Okay. Note to self, don't do that again. And don't worry about rambling or anything. Honestly, I'm kind of grateful for the distraction." Frankly, the longer he didn't have to think about this too hard, the better. He offered a hand for Jehan to shake. "I'm Jeff. Jeff Levitt. I wish we could have met under better circumstances, but well. Can't have everything, I guess." His smile revealed sharp teeth.
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"Yes, the literal nature rather took me by surprise as well. I certainly had not expected turning up here that all of this would take place." Generally, when one had crumpled to their knees after being executed, and literally felt their last breaths,they did not intend to wake up in a mess of water, or, for the rest of this to come on.
"Perhaps it is due to our new species." He mused, now studying the coils. "I do not know much of snakes, though I had always sort of wanted one to keep as a pet, but the development process could be different. And your sickness, hmm...Perhaps because your blood's been changing? I cannot imagine that it would be pleasant to adjust to being cold blooded in this sort of climate. I've been lucky when it comes to chlorophyll and such."
And then Jehan frowned a little, watching Jeff wince at his claws. "If it makes you feel much better, I still tangle myself up in my roots almost all the time. This all feels like something out of a dream." He added, taking the offered hand with his own flower covered one and shaking. "Despite the circumstances, it IS pleasant to meet you, Jeff."
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He shook his head trying to dismiss the sudden anger coming over him. "Anyway. I think you might be onto something with that cold-blooded thing. That's exactly how it felt. I was freezing even with every blanket in the house on top of me. I thought it was the flu or something." He looked over at Jehan, his expression more than a little pleading. "Are you sure it isn't a dream?"
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"No, most certainly not in my Paris. " Jehan took a moment to imagine a scene like that, and shook his head. "Or, not outside of...well, there are translations coming into the salons now. Fairy stories by two brothers named Grimm. This could well happen in one of THEIR works, but nothing in the real world at all." He caught the hiss and frowned a little. "Do you know, the locals seem to have avoided me before this took effect. But I should have think that the hospital would have told us the truth no matter what if it was known. Two of my greatest friends were, no are doctors..."
Were? Perhaps it was that sort of a situation past his death. Jehan had no way of knowing what had happened to those he'd left behind at the barricade when he had made his attempt to gather information in the streets and been captured and shot for it. He did hope, at least, so much as he was able to hope, which was a considerable amount, that at least some of his friends had made it through. He'd seen his closest, his dearest, his BEST friend felled by bayonets, and it had hurt so much that thinking of the others falling was a thing he could not do. So are would be his language of choice until he knew better what those facts were. If he ever did.
"If it is a dream, it is rather longer and more detailed, and I have made more conscious decisions than I normally would, but," Jehan's expression has now turned rather thoughtful "It lacks the logic of the real world, and men have been known to cross into and walk among dream realms unawares before, in so many of the great works. We may well be at that juncture between two worlds now. Dreams prove to be that gateway, oh, quite often. "
And then another thought occurs and Jehan is studying Jeff quite closely, looking for something in his gaze, or about his person that might suggest the answer. "Tell me though, and this may seem odd, but you were quite alive the last moment at home that you remember? You do not seem to...there is not the air of the dead around you, or I may suspect that was a part of it, that our souls had traveled here, the bodies that we woke with only temporary shells, and this, the transformation process, is the way our souls are settling into the next vessel to hold them. It would be be proof of reincarnation then, but if it is not the case..." He's pursing his lips and frowning a little. "More evidence should point towards either the dream, or transportation entirely. How odd, really. One cannot quite put a finger on this, I do not believe."
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The question about dying startles him, and his tongue flicks out in thought before he answers. "Yeah, I was definitely alive last I remember. I was getting ready to go to a book signing. Next thing I know someone's dragging me out of a lake. I mean, I guess I could have had a heart attack or something?" And that certainly wasn't a pleasant thought. "But I don't think so. I hadn't thought of astral projection. Like you said, that might be why it was so relatively easy to transform. On the other hand...everything I've read about soul-travel said that it was more like being a ghost. This is...very, very solid."
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"Oh good. Some point of reference is useful." Jehan was rather pleased with it himself. There was at least now something of a basis of understanding established. Always a good way to begin with that. Comfort was a great way to describe it, yes. "Nor could I get anything like an answer, no. It makes me wonder whether this has happened before or is entirely new. Either way, I think they sense it on us, somehow.
"Entirely solid, yes. and the change in physical form implies some sort of a physical presence here as well. Death HAD seemed like something of a theory up until then, but I am very glad to know it is not true of others here. [He did sigh with relief at that. Death was no thing to wish on anyone.