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:
Lots of people have asked good questions on the FAQ, so do take a look.
You can only app ONE character per round so choose wisely.
Test drive meme threads can be used for your roleplay sample!
NEW! Players with characters already in the game can earn up to a maximum of 3 coins by replying to potential character threads! You will need to have your normal 20 comment AC in the game. You cannot use this to go over the bonus 10 coins per month total, but you can use it if you are missing some threads to reach that coin total. Same rules as normal bonuses apply.
Sample scenarios:
SCENARIO ONE: So you've just arrived, fresh out of the hospital, and already 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.
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.
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: You've heard about the fog, but you've never seen it before. Now, the mist surrounds you. Barely able to see before you, you need to get home - and fast. It's far too dangerous in this situation.
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.
[This was all hopelessly commonplace for Johnny. Almost passe, in it's own way. Considering the illusion that was reality, it just made sense that he had managed to find himself lost in a forest, one that somehow appeared to have no ending or exit. Nny questioned how he had gotten there, but only for a moment. After all, it was conceivable that he had always been here. Had always been wandering here, despite the lies his perception of filthy reality might have conceived for him to try and make his situation more palatable.
That was worth a goddamn laugh and a half. Nny's pretty sure he likes the forest better than his actual life. In fact, he doesn't appear to be in too much of a rush to leave at the moment, snapping a small branch off a tree and just looking at the dark wood. Oooh, scary.
He does stop a bit, head peering behind him over his shoulder.]
Okay, I can enjoy a spooky forest as much as the next person, I mean the ambiance is really neat-o, but the laughing is getting a bit much. Couldn't you move towards maybe the wind rustling through the trees menacingly, or mournful moans? I mean anything than this. It makes me want to choke a grade schooler with peanut butter.
...What kind of parent would even let their children out this late?
[Really. What just godawful parenting. It would be wrong to hold the children accountable, after all. Rather, Nny is pretty sure he'd like to meet their parents.
To be fair, they're probably only spirits of children, so they probably don't even have guardians to be keeping them at home away from trouble. Anymore, anyways. That obviously didn't work out, did it?
[A grey skinned, ram-horned girl waves to Johnny from a tree branch above him, smiling happily. She knew he hadn't been speaking to her, but she couldn't help but put a word in edge-wise anyways.]
Threatening them with bodily harm is a bit much, though. Peanut allergies are very serious business.
[She slides down from the branch, landing on the ground a little ways away from the man.]
I do agree the spookiness could use some change of pace, though. They've been giggling since I got here, and that was quite a while ago.
[A-ya doubts this is anything more than an elaborate dream. It's possible after all. As much as everything feels real, he's read studies that dreams can sometimes simulate those feelings.]
There are only "things that seem like the truth," and "things that seem like lies." [He mutters it to himself but he can easily be overheard. Finally he raises his head and anyone can see with his unkempt hair and the bags under his eyes, he's a little messy.]
Bunnyipyips are a proven hoax. [He says, waving the pamphlet.]
[Three]
[Ah, now this feeling he knows well, too. Fear. The shivering of his body, the cold sweat on his skin. It's amazing. He thought his body had been growing too accustomed to the sensation but this fog brings it back in full force. He feels very afraid.]
Hello? Is anyone else here?
[He knows it would be stupid to call into the fog usually but there still isn't proof that this isn't a dream, so he will anyway.]
Most of the pamphlets are crap. [It's a voice of agreement!]
[Coming from a yard wall a few feet away and up a little high/awkward for a normal person to get to.]
[And the owner of the voice has a pair of broad, dark metallic-blue wings folded over his back, scales the same collar in patches, and is perched in a crouch on the wall.]
They don't really bother to try and check what's actually wandering around.
[Suddenly thrust into new situations? Yeah, Aradia had plenty of experience in that regard. After all, the dream bubbles were a constantly shifting and changing place, and it could take little more than a step to find yourself going from one memory to another, often ones you hadn't a single clue of the source of. This hospital? Definitely one of those "no clue" times.
Weirder yet, her wings were completely gone! It happened sometimes that you'd change appearance at first if you were a part of the memory the bubble was hosting, but she really quite doubted that this was the case for this particular situation. A quick test just for the sake of it also proved that she didn't seem to have any sort of access to any of her other abilities either, which was even more curious and peculiar. The pamphlets just put the icing on top of the cake in terms of how odd this situation was, and Aradia couldn't help but laugh a little at some of the titles, even if some didn't entirely make too much sense to her. So, she plops herself down in a chair near the exit of the hospital, leafing through the pamphlets to see what else they had in store, completely ignoring the stares of the locals around her; as far as they figured, she was already a monster. Help this girl out, anyone?]
2.
[She wouldn't call herself lost, per se; the better word would be adventuring! Aradia had always had a penchant for some adventure, and this was definitely a place worth exploring further. Even though she no longer had access to her powers, the creepy atmosphere and phantom giggles didn't phase her at all-- ghosts were ghosts, the dead were dead, what was there to fear? She'd spent her early life channeling and controlling the spirits of the dead, another good few sweeps being dead, and now another whole sweep ushering the dead through the afterlife. By this point, spirits were more like friends than anything to fear, as far as she was concerned. So, she continues on her way with a nonchalant skip in her step, humming gently to herself as she peeks around corners and peers into crevices to see if she could discover anything interesting.]
[He rests his elbow on the back of the chair she's in, leaning over just close enough to be friendly but not invade Aradia's personal space. She--like him--stands out like a sore thumb around here, her with her grey pallor and impressive set of horns, him with a single cybernetic eye and its glowing circuitlike branches. Does he know what she is? No, and he gives a crap even less.]
Really think you're gonna find something useful in those papers?
[He's since ditched the impressive collection that he made, on the grounds that none of them had the information he cared for.]
ONE [So one of the new arrivals is a scrawny teenager, brows furrowed, focused intently on one of the pamphlets as he walks down the street.]
[He's focused so intently, in fact, that he's not watching where he's going, and is bound to walk right into someone sooner or later - an event that's met with flailing and falling flat on his ass, then a wail and fumbling around on the ground for his glasses. On the bright side, he probably weighs 90 pounds soaking wet!]
FOUR [The first sign that something is very wrong, as the fog sets in, is that he manages to walk straight into a lamppost.]
[Okay, so it's not very unusual, except that he had his glasses on and is finding himself suddenly completely unable to see; it's one thing to "blunder" into things making a show of clumsiness, and another to get assaulted by a lamp-post seemingly jumping out in front of you.]
[He staggers back, somehow keeping his feet, but there's a tink and clatter as his now-broken glasses hit the ground; he starts to panic, then sees them.] Ahah! My gla-
[And trails off staring dumbly at the shattered pieces, as he realizes that he sees them, even if everything looks strange now.]
[He only gets a second to ponder that before other pain hits and he's on the ground doubled over with a voiceless squeak; there's a couple odd bulges on his back under his shirt where something's growing out of the skin and struggling to burst through the fabric.]
One [One of the food vendors is having a small, panicked moment, holding out a wrapped-paper bundle of roasted meat; he's waving it in the air at a thirteen year old kid that's crouched on the ground, wearing hides and some ratty trousers, and was saying something about "just don't eat me later".]
[The kid doesn't seem to comprehend this.]
But if you give food, then you friend; friends not food.
Just remember me, please!
[The kid just shrugs, swiping the bundle and bounding off to a low dividing wall nearby in a surprisingly fast "all fours" lope, the paper bag held triumphantly in his teeth.]
Two [Whoever else is out there might be concerned about being lost in the woods; it's likely to get creepier, briefly, at the sound of some kind of weird howl that doesn't sound like a wolf, then crashing through the undergrowth headed towards you.]
[The crashing quickly turns out to be a deer, running and squirming for its life trying to shake off its attacker...]
[And yes, yes that is a thirteen year old kid wearing hides and some ratty pants, clinging to the deer half on its back, trying his damnedest to either rip its throat out with his teeth or at least try a suffocating bite. It's not working very well.]
Four [There's claws on the ground and shining eyes in the dark.]
[The creature that trots out of the fog curiously's definitely mostly canid, big, round ears over a muzzled canine face; there's a spotted hide still draped over his shoulders, but it otherwise almost looks like a dog of some kind, just a bit too big, the proportion of the limbs off, and the front paws built strangely, with thumbs.]
[And whoever he's found, he's circling, head down and tail straight out back.]
[ Just a wild dog. That's all it is. Certainly, it could be violent or aggressive, but she's also armed now, even if it's a flimsy piece of cheap steel and she lacks any more exotic powers.
Only it... has thumbs.
She might be squinty but Guila is observant and that dog has thumbs, the limbs are off, there's a glint to its eye that's more than animal. ]
[ He's definitely not being welcomed back into this town the same way he had when he first arrived.
The hospital visit took long enough to jog his memory about where exactly he was. His anger at the nurse who accommodated him evaporated as soon as he had seen that she knew as much about the operations that had taken place on him than he did. All they knew was that he had apparently been in the hospital following something. When he finally gets out, the first thing he notices is that the people of Vandare have certainly changed their tune: less from sympathy, more from fear.
Roxas's is still as he had looked when he left (though he'll be wearing a white shirt at this point). He's offered less of the pamphlets, judging by how much he's changed already, but one thought is pervasive: Roxas is absolutely starving. He's trying to control it, coming close to passersby even as he presses a hand over his growling stomach. His gold eyes dilate and thin at random intervals, and he looks like he's obviously struggling to keep something in control... Whoever you are, he even goes to far as to reach for your arm to get your attention. ]
Please. I need help. [ He doesn't want to eat people. He really doesn't. He should go out and hunt or something, but this is much more important to him. ] I'm just looking for someone.
( two. )
[ Roxas is lost again in Lager Woods. He used to know his way better around these woods, but the path changes every time he goes in here; even with an aerial view, he can't seem to find his way out any better. At least it made it easier to hunt animals this way, but even those seem scarce at the moment. Those children are still laughing somewhere, and it's as foggy and dark as ever.
Whoever you are, there'll be a moving shape in the trees. If you look close enough, you'll see a pair of gold eyes looking down on you. You might be able to make out Roxas in the tree, his wings folded against his back and his hair in a whorl. He's a little strange-looking, and not that hard to spot. Is he preying on you? Just curious? He's just as lost as you are, but you don't know that. ]
[The last face Xion expects to see again is Roxas's. Especially not with feathers, looking exactly as he had when he had disappeared all those months ago. Xion's completed her changes in full by now. But he's here, he's real and Xion takes a step towards him-]
Roxas...
[And instantly her eyes are watering and she sniffles, lower lip trembling as she breaks into a run at him, arms outstretched to hug him tight against her if he doesn't object, because she's going to cry something fierce on him. She's missed him so much. So, so much. Axel doesn't remember her at all but this is the same Roxas who does, the Roxas who had first shown up here in this strange world with her and he's back and finally it feels like a missing piece has been returned home.
She's cold, but surprisingly warmer than the ambient temperature for a change.]
[There's at least one new arrival who is already regretting stepping out of the hospital. While it'd be incorrect to say that Jack wasn't used to people, he certainly doesn't prefer the company of money-grubbing little--
--hang on, they're trying to give him things. Nothing he really wants, but the sooner people try to push things on him, the more willing he is to listen. The whole 'eating people' thing isn't really his bag. Pushing them in the dirt, giving them painful wedgies, feeding them to each other...those things were more his speed.
So yeah, it doesn't quite make sense, but he'll roll with it until the offers turn into shoving pamphlets into his hand. That's when Jack starts to get sour. Having people grovel was much more entertaining.]
Okaaaaay, this is weird. Bored now.
[It doesn't take long before Jack finds ways to entertain himself, like flagging down the poor folks who were trying to coax themselves into his good graces.]
Hey--hey you! Not you, you! With the hair! Actually, scratch that, both of you! Make me a paper crane out of this thing here, or I'll gouge your eyes out!
[Not actually the plan right this second (maybe in like...an hour, after he's settled into this place that wasn't Helios), but fear was always such an excellent motivator.]
[Scenario Two]
[The giggling doesn't bother Jack in the fear department, but damn if it isn't annoying the piss out of him in short order. Pandora lacked trees, and Helios practically had a map tattooed onto the surface of his mind -- without any of that territory, he's completely lost and incredibly cranky.
His pocketwatch hasn't worked properly since arrival -- he attributes it to Helios being out of range, not to mention that this place seemed trapped in the stone age in comparison to where Hyperion was. There's no connection to the ECHOnet, which means no way to make maps and navigate.]
What the hell does a guy have to do to get some freakin' signal out here?!
[That sure is a 40something year old man throwing a rock at a tree.]
[San was on his way home after taking care of some errands for the day, but it was hard to ignore the commotion that Jack was causing. Morbid threats? He's game.]
With what? Your fingers? [He chuckles, clearly amused by the thought as he approaches. It was quite clear he wasn't like most of the normal residents, due to the white glowing white eyes and the dark aura that surrounded him.] Although you probably don't need any help if you attract the attention of any good-doers for threatening the townsfolk.
[Sho was trained for plenty of scenarios. He was skilled in programming and electronics. In staying hidden. In fighting and killing.
But one thing the scientists never saw need to do? Give him ANY idea of wilderness survival. So once it got dark and he was well out of town? Well, he certainly had no idea how to get back out. Well, other then smashing his way in one direction. EVENTUALLY he'd get out! He wasn't worried!
The laughing was getting REALLY OBNOXIOUS though]
Oh that is IT!! Get out here so I can cut your throats you little bastards!
[The laughing just increases, and Sho snarls, charging where he THINKS it's coming from with his knife, jabbing into a bush. Hopefully no one is behind there...]
[4 (Gargoyle)]
[The pain is nothing.
It SHOULD be something, he knows that. He feels it just fine. But he can't recall when pain last caused him anything other then annoyance. So when he starts transforming he can't manage anything more then hysteric joy. Finally, no longer bottom bitch of the food chain in this weird place. His legs keep giving out under him, his spine shuddering and spasming as wings and wings and wings burst out. But every time he forces himself up, laughing like a mad man between bloody coughs and gags.
Once the wings are fully out he takes flight, much more used to letting his primal mind take over then most, and starts coasting the town. Look at these weak idiots running around! What a joke!
He hacks out fire at a few- and laughs as he does it before shooting more fire at someone's house]
Ha! I've really lit a fire under your asses now, huh?
[He continues to laugh, not caring he was spitting out teeth (and swallowing a few) as he does it, his flight pattern jagged and confused and his body keeps changing and occasionally tries to give out on him midair]
[Who is that gargoyle and why are they so happy to set things on fire--and they are going to crash into something.
Yu had been looking around as soon as the fog hit, as most were in pain and hungry. This guy was...something else alright. He pushed himself into the sky, and very soon, flies close to him, his claws ready to grab the other if he starts free-falling. The first times flying where the hardest after all.]
You need to calm down.
[That voice was certainly lower than Sho might remember it, but with that hair, no matter how much fur, that was definitely Narukami.]
[ONE] [If Fuu had ever bothered to make a list of things she expected to happen to her, this probably wouldn't be on it. How could it be? This is completely absurd, and she says so to one of the doctors who gives her the go-ahead to leave the hospital. She asks if he's sure it's okay, since she must have hit her head, that's why everything is so strange. He tells her he doesn't have the time to waste on examining her head. "Well excuse me," she mutters as she leaves the room. Jeez, he didn't even examine her that closely.
But the outside world, it's-- it's way different from what she expects. It's noisy and crowded and full of people shoving fliers at her! Within minutes, she's got a whole handful of them, and she can barely get a word in to ask a question.]
Fur-bearing--? What? Trout don't even have fur! And what's this about-- [...Yeah, no one's listening. She huffs and starts trying to shove through the crowd.] Ugh-- you guys are completely useless! Just let me go already!
[She pushes her way through and that's when she spots YOU, random helpful-looking stranger. Fuu runs toward whatever poor passer-by she happens to have spotted, waving a little wildly, fliers still in hand.]
...Excuse me! Can I just ask you something?
[TWO] [Okay, so there are a few really staggering problems about Fuu's particular predicament. It's dark, for one, and getting colder. (Not to mention, she's getting hungry...) That's not going to end well. She's also heard there are --of all the crazy stories-- monsters in this area. (monsters, really?) And on top of that, she's lost. (Fine, fine, lesson learned: don't go wandering about in a place you don't know.) But by far the worst thing, the most annoying part of it all...
Is. That. Laughing!
She likes to think she's a patient young lady, really, but after a while of tripping over the same twigs, spotting the same rocks, and frowning at the same mushroom she has had enough. She whips around in the direction where the laugh sounds like it's coming from.]
Are you just going to laugh like that, or could you try helping a little?!
[There's a muffled rumble that could be a growl from a sturdier tree branch a bit above where she just turned to point; the creature perched in the tree has a haphazardly skinned rabbit in its jaws, and is looking down with a headtilt, before snapping its jaws back to finish swallowing the rabbit mostly-hole with a few unpleasant crunching noises.]
[The voice that comes out of it's male, rumbling, and definitely not childish. On the bright side, he sounds almost boredly calm.]
I don't know what's with the spirits out here. They probably thing it's a grand prank.
[This is, quite possibly, the second weirdest thing to happen to Jason. Okay, so maybe not the second weirdest thing to happen lifetime total, but probably at least the second weirdest this month. His first instinct is to assume Zedd's sent him here to leave the rest of his team without leadership. But the more he talks to people, the more it seems like the captives were plucked from their homes at random. There's not really a common thread that ties any of them together.
And that means that everyone's a victim. Everyone's hurt and suffering.
Jason's fairly confident that he'll be rescued within the next seventeen hours or so, but for now he'll do what he can to help others. He'll help old ladies across streets, run errands for overwhelmed shopkeeps, and even take the time to stop and talk to some of the more harmless-looking sort-of monsters.
So perhaps it's you he approaches next, full of smiles and youthful enthusiasm.]
Hey, those bags look heavy. Can I give you a hand?
[ Two-ish ]
[It's later in the month, nearly three weeks in, and there's still no sign of rescue from his friends. Maybe it's one of those time things Billy always talks about that's keeping them from noticing he's gone. Maybe something's gone badly at home. It's worrisome. Jason hates to worry.
He's come into the woods today to work on his martial arts. He does a series of katas to calm his nerves and sort his thoughts. His body moves in graceful, fluid strokes creating a seamless flow from one position to the next. It's a meditative routine performed at the master level.
It stops short when he hears the approach of another. His eyes snap directly to the source of intrusion, graceful swan rearing up as a hedgehog preparing its quills.]
[ The guy's presence is decently concealed, though Crane isn't sure if that's a conscious effort or these damn woods. If he wasn't used to being on the lookout for Biters every moment, he might not have even noticed him.
As it is, the guy calls out to him first. Crane's hands go up, one holding a decent size branch loosely. Despite how useless it would be for protection. ]
Whoa, Crouching Tiger. I'm just a normal guy.
[ Though, at his own response, he raises an eyebrow wryly at the idiocy. ]
[Pandora's a crazy place on the regular. Ancient monsters, magical sirens, minerals that can either get you higher than a kite or deader than dead from contact alone - so sure, Nisha's not exactly freaking out after one weird-ass hospital visit. Wasn't even freaking out when they told her about 'diseases' and 'transformations' (though she might've made a bid at choking out one of the staff before any amount of small talk happened - purely instinctive, cross her frigid heart) though that doesn't exactly means she believes any of it, either: doctors are wrong all the time. Like the one back home that swore up and down he'd be able to patch himself up and get revenge just before she shot him between the eyes.
Good times.
Still, it's not bad being catered to. Kind of thing a girl could get used to given enough time and adoration and groveling in general. She's busy picking through the offered food stores of a sweet, elderly woman. Grandmother. Plenty of kids. Plenty of leverage, from the sound of it; Nisha's already tossed half a basket of fresh apples on the ground, nixing most of them for bruises, punctures, general funny-shapedness, gold eyes locked in a frigid stare beneath the brim of her hat as she gestures to what's left. Half an armful at best.] That's it? Really?
If I didn't know any better I'd say you were trying to pass off garbage as tribute.
Not a good foot to start on. [Chin dropping by degrees for the sake of intimidation. Which actually works because...you know, grandma. Might want to help the poor old woman - or laugh at her. If you're feeling particularly soulless today.]
III:
[God she's bad at this. Directions were never her thing, but add fog as thick as seawater to the mix and Nisha's running blind - something that puts her in both pissy and defensive territory as far as reactions go. Figures she hasn't gotten her hands on a pistol yet-- or what passes for one here, at least-- but with the strap to an old pack wound tightly around her wrist, she's got enough to strangle someone. Or something.
If it comes down to it, anyway.
Which wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing.]
IV:
Ho-ho-hoooly crap. [Guess who's got a brand new set of canines and is currently admiring them in the nearest store window/display mirror/reflective anything: this girl, that's who. Jaw tilted upwards to one side so that her factory fresh elongated fang is angled towards her reflection, tongue pressed to the sharp bottom as if testing out how quick it is to cut.
Which, considering she's not bleeding, the verdict is 'not very'. It'd be something of a disappointment if literally everything else about it wasn't totally, undeniably badass.] This is awesome.
Well thanks, I don't work too hard on this look in the morning, but -- oh who am I kidding, of course you noticed.
[Jack slides up when she's focused on looking at her new teeth. He looks mostly the same, except that he seems to have rolled the sleeves on his waistcoat down, making it harder to notice how much more yellow his skin has gotten thanks to the single-tone mask covering the easiest part to discern such information.
Mis-matched eyes flick up to the surface she's admiring, and he raises one eyebrow.]
[Conan consulted the rough map in his hands again, frowning at the lines he'd drawn on it. He thought he'd been more accurate than this; measuring his average step and counting how many he took gave him a rough but mostly accurate distance, and he kept an eye on the sun (and accounted for it's changed position) to check his direction.
Spying a relatively flat rock, he hastened towards it to lay the paper flat so he could check it over more thoroughly - only to stop as he recognised the rock. He'd come across it from the other side last time he'd stopped here - yes, there were the scuff marks where he'd knelt. But he knew he hadn't become turned around...
Someone giggled and he jerked around, eyes narrowed as he scanned for the perpetrator.]
Hello?
[His voice echoed off the rocks hollowly, with no reply. Glancing about warily, he returned to his map with half an ear on his surroundings, trying to puzzle out where he could have turned himself around.]
[One of the shapes in the fog that might've been taken for an out of place part of the landscape raises a head; there's two glowing blue eyes and a long neck in the silhouette. There's a puff of gold-white flame from a pair of jaws that cuts through the fog for a moment, enough to make briefly visible some kind of horse-sized dragon curled up just off the trail.]
[The voice is definitely male, although it's rumbling and a little inhuman-off.]
The spirits here play pranks in these woods of that sort often. If you keep walking they'll only get you more lost.
[Meet the walking epitome of tall, dark, and...well, if cybernetic facial parasites are your thing, definitely handsome. He's certainly human, for sure, but it looks like something wholly inorganic has decided to take up residence in the upper half of his face. A bright red circle is imbedded in his forehead, black void of a lens inside of it, soulless yet clearly observing the world around him. From the bottom of the circle, thick cyan lines etch across his sepia skin like circuits on a motherboard, drawing along where his eyes would be--if he had them--to his jawline, running down his neck until they become hidden underneath the collar of his dress shirt. They pulse with a dull, rhythmed light that seems to match his heartbeat.]
one;
[He hasn't really done any proper touristy trips in his life. Cloudbank pretty much provided any atmosphere you wanted, provided you voted correctly or knew where to go. Of course, he'd always pick the beach if he was ever given a choice in the matter (but not the beach he has a recent but vague recollection of, any beach but that one) but, if not, he'd probably avoid the "tourist trap" places either way.
Because this is exactly what he imagines it would be like. Honestly, they're all like pushy salesmen, but what they're trying to sell isn't very clear--even after flipping through pamphlets to garner whatever information there was to be had--yet trying to keep a very generous distance away from him.
The material in these pamphlets are grim, at best, while trying to keep an upbeat attitude about their subject matter, but when you're talking to someone that basically lived (well, died) through nothing short of the end of the world as they knew it, the message falls on deaf ears. Besides, it's nothing but an information overload for someone who wakes up in a place they didn't fall asleep in...without a hangover.
When one dares to stay longer than the others, he puts a friendly hand on their shoulder--to which they give an unsettled glance.]
Hey. You seen a woman around here with bright red hair, about yey-high, bright blue eyes, short haircut, goes by the name of Red?
[They nod wildly, oh yes, we've seen her--it becomes quickly clear that it's nothing but lip service to appeal to him and that they have no idea who he's talking about or where she is. He'd roll his eyes if he had them, but all he can really provide is a stern frown.]
Yeah. Thanks anyway.
[The brochures are thrown away unceremoniously, whether they held useful information or not.]
two;
[Oh yeah. He'd definitely take the white walls over this. He doesn't know why this unsettles him so much, either. It could be that he's never been in a forest in his life, or that mysterious giggling that seems to have no point of origin or even a direction, or that he simply isn't comfortable being alone given the recent events of his life (non-life).
Man, and all he came out here for was a convenience store.
He jolts reflexively when he comes across another person, but without sound. The "eye" in his forehead trains itself on the humanoid figure in the distance, and he spends much longer debating whether or not he should call out for far longer than he wants to.
Here goes nothin'.]
Hi?
three; Just some crazy fog I've never seen before. Nothing to worry about.
Yo, handsome. Need your help for a second, [She's at his back: tall and out of place and still half-banged up from arrival, one discarded pamphlet in hand, waved like a free pass to his undivided attention which is what she pretty much figures is the deal when it comes to getting pegged for being downwind of someone else's refuse.
But the view's not bad, and an in to getting a little one-on-one that's not superficial flattery can't hurt.] got a couple of--
[Voice cutting itself off the second he turns around, eyebrows raised high under the brim of a low hat, mouth still open without any sort of immediate response to his face. At least not until she adds, helpfully:] --woof. Hope you got a refund from whoever screwed you over on those modifications.
[Forests are absolutely not Hiro's thing. He's a city kid through and through. He grew up surrounded on all sides by tech, tech, and more tech. Skyscrapers and wind turbines and electric cars and robots. That is his world. Give him any piece of scrap tech and he can do amazing things with it. Drop him in a forest with nothing but the clothes on his back, and he's almost entirely useless. Which is a feeling that he absolutely hates. If he at least had a GPS, that'd be something.
Not that he'd say that he's lost exactly. He just needs a few moments to gain his bearings. For instance, if he could find that one very distinct-looking tree that he'd mentally flagged. He's sure it's around here... Somewhere. The sound of laughter coming from all over the place is both distracting and creepy, though, so the sooner Hiro figures out his escape route, the better.]
It's gotta be... that one. [The words are muttered under his breath as he eyes a tree that seems... distinct enough. But somehow it's not quite the way he remembers it, and it's room enough to make him doubt himself.
But the thought is lost entirely when he hears the sound of a twig snapping from behind him. Immediately he whirls around, eyes wide in alarm.] Who's there?!
[ Mako is used to her simple, serious quietness being mistaken for various thoughts or emotions. Menace, however, is not one she has had before.
Her jacket is lost and the deepest scratch, in her left shoulder, itches where it's exposed to the elements. There are pamphlets in her hand for proper study once she is alone; but she hasn't looked at them yet, has barely even glanced at their fantastical titles. This place could not be more different from the oppressive neons of Hong Kong or the faded military neatness of the Shatterdome - as if they were kept in mind as it was created, to be as far removed as possible. It's that, more than anything, that makes her think this is a dream.
She pays close attention to colours as she walks. A man's green shirt, the yellow front of a business, grey and grey and grey. She has heard that colours are an important part of dreams, to know what they mean. It will be important to remember. There is a sense of purpose to her gait, as if she knows where she's going, though the way she looks curiously around suggests otherwise.
Tokyo's Daughter; the little blue girl. Mako has been recognised before. Somebody won an award for the photograph of her after Onibaba's attack, though she was never asked for her permission. When everything had been taken from her and left her holding only one red shoe, its strap broken in the chaos.
Now there is bread thrust into her hands - bread? She only looks at the man, confused. He insists, hurries on with apparent fear before she can thank him, though she says it to his back out of habit. Takes a step back, considering her strange gift - and backs right into someone. ]
Ah - sumimasen - excuse me.
[ THREE ]
[ The fog feels like dust on her skin, in her memory. It should disturb her more than it does; but when you've faced kaiju, how frightening can fog be?
She's never faced or even seen a monster that wouldn't shake the ground it walked on before. That couldn't be heard for miles around. As far as she knows there's no such thing. There's still a foreboding, but she tells herself it's nothing - no youkai, no ghost or creature could find her when she can't even find herself. ]
[The shadow of wings overhead may be indistinct in the fog - too large for any bird by far, but definitely a joke in scale compared to any kaiju.]
[He's not completely silent when he lands a bit further ahead of her, although it's a human scale set of metal claws in a smooth landing.]
[The outline that walks out would've been a tall human made a little taller by the build of his clawed feet, and even folded his wings are large enough to be noticeable; before he's gotten close enough to make out more normally, he's holding a small fireball in one hand for light, making it easier to make out what's coming. At least his posture and expression are calm, with no sudden or threatening movements.]
[There are very few things Sadie Doyle needs to be happy: her husband, an eternally replenishing supply of alcohol, and extremely comfortable, lavish, and peaceful living quarters. None of these are things she has right now.
It's a little bit off-putting.]
Still, there are few things that Sadie Doyle is not willing to try out, at least once, if it seems interesting. Save, of course, for being sober. Really, very lucky they rushed us off to the hospital first thing, isn't it?
[In her best efforts to turn this into a more comfortable affair, she shoves a paper cup of clear, strong-smelling liquid into the nearest person's hand. Congrats, impromptu drinking buddy. Sadie taps her cup of ethanol against yours, before downing it. The hospital won't get that back.]
Mmm. Ooh, first order of business, now! Proper glasses. No, before that, proper booze. Then proper glasses. Then proper shoes, and then a proper dress. Oh, and a proper bag, and perhaps a proper flask, and then I'll be properly set for impropriety! Ha-hah!
[That is precisely her order of interests and nothing else about this situation seems to have drawn her concern in the slightest. A scattering of pamphlets are left on the ground in her wake.]
[Scenario Two]
[Perhaps she should not have been so hasty to trade out for "proper shoes."
These uneven paths, unclear markers, thick trees--it's all quite a struggle to manage at once, for someone who's spent her life in the lap of luxury. This has to be at least the third time she's had to fish rocks, of all things, out of her shoes.]
Roughing it, indeed. Oh, you! Hello there! Were you the one who was giggling? Are you a hy-ker?
[It's not easy to get the jump on Nisha. Call it a byproduct of a long life on Pandora, and an even longer childhood, but the bottom line is she's got her senses trained to the sharpness of razor wire. Helps in a firefight, helps in just about any scenario, actually, but when it comes to direction?
Let's just say someone's sorely missing having an ECHOnet navigational system on-hand.
Doesn't mean she's not ready for a fight once she hears the telltale snap of someone else's heels on dry twigs-- or the singsong voice that follows that suddenly has her second guessing whether or not it's Aurelia at her back. Which it clearly isn't. ]
I don't do hiking, kiddo. Like my sports a little more entertaining. [A beat:] And deadly.
[And it's hard to see in the dark between tall trees and cluttered bushes, but between the two of them it looks to be a mostly human congregation. For better or worse.] You lost?
[Mytho had taken his arrival rather well. Perhaps he should have been afraid, or troubled, but he simply couldn't figure out how to feel any of those things. He'd cooperated with the doctors and nurses who tended to him upon his wake at the hospital, and before his head had stopped spinning, he was out on the street.
Shortly thereafter he can be found sitting calmly on one of the quaint benches lining the streets of Vandere, rifling through the large stack of pamphlets he'd acquired. It only seemed polite to give each of them an equal amount of attention, so although he has no particular feelings on any of the titles, he reads their contents thoroughly. His somewhat vacant expression never changes.]
two
[If asked, Mytho wouldn't be able to say how or why he found his way into the Lager Woods, and he hardly seems to notice or be bothered by the fact that he is very clearly lost. He wanders without direction at first, knowing only that he'll eventually end up somewhere if he moves forward long enough.
That's when he hears the children and picks up his pace. A prickle of something that could be concern ushers him forward. Even though the children sound like they're laughing, it can't be safe for anyone so small to be so far away from the town. Mytho walks quickly through the brush, not trying to be quiet. He hopes he can find and help them. He hopes that they don't hurt themselves.
Not paying particular attention to where he's going, it isn't long before he runs headlong into someone. In doing so, Mytho ends up sprawled in the dirt and leaves.]
Sorry.
[His tone is monotone, but genuine in its softness.]
[The problem with having a bad leg is that it's not so easy to move quickly at short notice. While her sister is able to spin around and pirouette whenever she would like (and even when she wouldn't), Mayu has trouble when it comes to not getting walked into.
So when Mytho goes sprawling to the ground, she does, too; she lands in the dirt with a thud and a soft cry of what sounds like pain but is more likely surprise.
There is a moment or two after he speaks where she stays quiet, her brows furrowed as she looks him over. It's strange - shouldn't she have heard him coming? Or at least sensed him? ...then again, he isn't a ghost. He's a living, breathing person, and to her surprise she isn't immediately comforted by that. He looks almost like a Remaining.]
...it's okay.
[It would be more okay if her sister was here, but she isn't, so Mayu will just have to make do.]
[For someone who was pulled out of the sea and treated by aliens at a hospital, Terezi seems to be taking her situation completely in stride. The human doctors seemed to be a bit reluctant around her, even when she gave them her widest grin that showed off all of her prickly sharp teeth. How rude! Sadly, being rude was not against the law in any society she knew of, so sadly she would have to refrain from doling out justice.
When she was released from the hospital, she was eager to take in the smells and tastes of her new surroundings. The town was distinctly human, but with all sorts of interesting sensory delights mixed in. For one, there were fishy odors that reminded her of Feferi and Eridan, and the distinct smell of felines that she knew would make Nepeta happy if she were here.
She's curious about how much the stench of blood seems to permeate the area though. Did this town have a high crime rate? The type of crime that involved violence and murder and mystery and intrigue? If so, what were the local authorities doing about it? Were they just terrible at their job? This was something to ponder for another time.
Because a human just handed her a pamphlet and it now occupies her entire attention.
All passersby were now treated to the sight of an alien girl licking the various pamphlets.]
Hmm, yes, I understand! Very interesting!
Two
[Terezi was drawn to the forests. She had lived in the middle of one back on Alternia and she figured if she was stuck in this land without so much as a single gate to travel into to get out, she was going to make herself comfortable. She was going to find the biggest goddamn tree there was and make the coolest, sweetest treehive there was. It was gonna be so cool and so sweet that Dave Strider would shed a tear upon seeing it. That's how cool and sweet it was going to be.
Unfortunately, she was having trouble finding the biggest goddamn tree in the forest. She was having trouble finding anything. Her face was one of genuine confusion. Smell had never led her wrong before, so why was she seemingly going in circles?
The giggling echoing around the forest provided a vital clue to solving the mystery]
Does this have something to do with you, mysterious ghost human wrigglers!?
[Considering that he's already fully changed, he's going to stick out scent-wise; he's got a lot of metal scales, has gone part dragon, a tendency to breathe fire (and otherwise light things on fire), and has been out hunting, even if it's more often deer than otherwise. Also he's still dealing with cleaning out an old abandoned house, so it's going to be a while before dust and cobwebs aren't part of it.]
[He's also entirely unsure what to make of licking the pamphlets.]
Uh. Thanks. Thank you. Thanks. I'm... going to go away, now.
[Wirt backs away from the last of the locals, smiling nervously and holding his pamphlets in front of him like a shield as he makes his retreat. Pulled out of the water, they'd said. Don't you know where you are? The symmetry was not lost on him, a sense of déjà vu clinging to his thoughts. Maybe not the situation itself, but the preposterousness of it all, like a dream brought into sharp focus...
Was this, again, a dream? Had it been a dream before?
The question churns in his mind as he wanders the unfamiliar streets, much like the waves they say brought him in.
He looks down again at the pamphlets clutched to his chest. They'd been so eager to hand them over. It was disconcerting, yet... somehow heartening at the same time. Knowledge is, after all, one of the greatest gifts one can share. He stops to look down at the papers in his hands, expression immediately going from fond to unimpressed.]
"Your Voice is Cracking, But That's Not All?" I don't--
[His voice cracks on the word. Of course it would.]
-- I don't... ugh.
[Two]
[Wirt couldn't remember when the road he walked faded from smooth, paved streets to the thin, twisted path weaving through the trees. It was almost if he'd been drawn there, like an unknowing moth to a flame. He knew he should be worried, but instead, he felt strangely comforted. The quiet rustle of the detritus underneath his shoes, the trees, towering all around him like silent wooden sentinels... there was a familiar peace here, even in this unfamiliar land.
The laughing takes him by surprise, and as he looks around in his shock, the forest that had seconds ago been a source of quiet comfort begins to feel foreboding. He knows it's been but seconds since he walked down the path behind him, but it already feels unrecognizable from the rest of his surroundings. Which way had he come? And which way is the voice he's hearing? He calls out, quiet and tentative.]
[The first thing Julie notices about the guy with the pamphlets is that he's clutching those way too tightly to be healthy. The second thing is that he doesn't look so great. Like, I'm new here and everything is horrible not so great.]
Yeah, the reading materials aren't really all that reassuring. I'd ignore the titles if I were you.
[painwheel is not a big fan of hospitals anymore. or, really, of being around people in general. too dangerous. for them, that is.
she wants nothing to do with the nurses or the doctor. she doesn't want their explanations or the care. painwheel struggles free within the first few minutes she's awake again, bolting as quick as she can. even sluggish from the rescue, she can still fight past the nurses.
she doesn't even get time to marvel at her nails and wheel having been wrested out of her: she has to get past the townsfolk, too. she's still raggedy from the ocean and in the same threadbare, rotten-looking clothes as always, and half of the natives approach out of concern while the other half hang back in fear. in short: she's a mess. she bats away the pamphlets and food with more force than necessary, upturning a basket of apples into the dirt. she's going from frantic, to frantic and agitated.]
I don't want it! Go away!
[ 4 ]
[for a few weeks, painwheel had been normal again. still the scars, still the blackened veins, still the black sclera, but she could breathe freely and walk without the weight of the buer drive pushing down on her spine.
but now she gets to feel herself become a monster in slow-motion. before it had only been fever-dreams, her transformation under the knife and under sedation. here she gets to feel her joints crack and warp and grow and her skin bulge, itch and crack open with the burgeoning rock blisters.]
[The scuffle caused by the upset of apples is what catches his attention, but it's her body language that makes him spring into action. Scowling, he steps between Painwheel and the accosting strangers, holding out his arms in hopes to act as a wall between her and them.]
Can't you see she needs some space? Come on, learn how to take a hint.
[He didn't really mind being hassled himself, and has already come across dozens of people who have been given the same treatment--but it's clear that the attention is getting to her more than anyone else. And that's not okay.]
[There is a chill to the air when the light of the exit illuminates and he presses past the doors into the world. Damp are his clothes, hanging heavy on his body, the frayed fabric where bullets have entered there but no wound remains, only a scar, a reminder that feels as if the iron is still lodged deep within his flesh. As fascinating as the centre was, to see such different manners of medical expertise the scratches and bruises upon his body sting physically more against his skin than the mental awareness of where such wounds should be, much deeper, far more fatal. The shots were fired through the floor, the pain immediate and death dropping him to the wooden ground of the café that was some much like a second home and eventual, assumed, final resting place. If this was the afterlife then it was unexpected and for one who always feared his death would come because of his imagined failing health, there had been almost a peace about it. Now though the sickness returned and him without his cane, without his handkerchief, he is exposed to the elements of winter and feels a shiver wrack his body.
Confusion is one way to put it, a mental delusion, but he feels the rate of his heart accelerate the moment the parchments are shoved within his grasp.
Madness, is what comes to mind as his eyes briefly look upon the reading material that is handed to him, coughing heavily into the crook of his elbow as he tried his best to make sense of the scenario but if this was death then whatever might meet one who was indeed dead was inevitable, and equally unknown , only the assumption of faith and logic to guide the living. His brows furrowed, he moved along the streets and tried to stay as quiet as possible but his lingering cold made little held of that; a sneezing, raspy mess, the slight incline of a fever that he was sure would take him, found rather unfortunate that he had not been healed upon his demise but he is conscious at least, in this moment, and though he is anxious he is increasingly aware that he needs to find out what is going on, where he is and if his comrades had followed him to such a grave. A sneeze wracks his body, another, then several to follow but in the breaths he takes to try to compose himself a passerby drawing near enough is the first figure he has focused on completely since his arrival. It takes courage to open his mouth to call out to them before they leave the space in their stride and such conversation would be ill timed, but he manages despite the stuffiness of his nose that makes him a little more difficult to understand.]
Pardon me. [Joly manages, holding out a hand in a manner to gather their attention with voice and body, the paper in his hand speaking of amphibian like mammals.] Perhaps you can conbirm my confusion, but I was not aware trout could grow fur and tub me it seems a rather fishy situation.
SCENARIO THREE
[It starts slowly but builds quickly and before a blink of an eye it settles and surrounds. A fog such as this has an unnatural inclination, the manner in which it moves, the manner in which it shifts but seems to surround with the purpose of concealment, the idea of clinging to ones skin and distances in front, figures moving through what little light stands seem like ghosts, an eerie painting to be made out of nightmares. Joly figures such an element cannot be good for ones lungs and with the cold still lingering in his chest he cannot help but figure the best way to remedy such an ailment is to seek warmth and shelter as soon as possible but for one without a home, what do they do? To intrude upon the trembling locals seems unwise and though their hospitality has been warm there is fear beneath the surface, located within the depths of their eyes, their hesitance.
A cough echoes through the fog, he covers his mouth with his sleeve and slowly begins to back away as footsteps sound into the night. It was always unsafe to be caught in such a natural veil but these seems even more threatening and while he has fought before, in his heart he is a healer and his mind and instinct is telling him that it is time to remove himself from the situation at hand. Little does he know it though while moving backwards into the night he finds his body brushing against another form that causes him to start and immediately turn around, words on his lips as his steps away from whoever lingers there, quick to make distance between them, if only a stride or two.]
Many apologies. [The accented voice speaks quickly, unaware of the omni-language of this world translating whatever he might say, his concern of course that they might not understand him.] This fog is rather inconvenient for ones sense of direction.
[ He has done his best to frequent every surge of new arrivals; to search for familiar faces that he does not wish to see. He goes, and he is relieved when he does not find his friends among the washed up. He had missed the arrivals to Rota- but of course, none of them could have predicted that they would wash up to somewhere new, unfamiliar. Enjolras had promised himself to be far more prepared, this time, and made his usual journey to Vandare, with arrangements made to reach Rota if news comes that they are there, instead.
But things seemed to have fallen back to normal, and Enjolras was not sure whether he felt it was a relief, or disappointment when they washed up in Vandare again. Still, he went. It was only right, after all. These people deserved information; deserved to know that despite the horrors in store for them, there were places where they might yet find support.
He sees Joly, before Joly sees him. For the briefest second his heart sores- and then the next, it plummets to the floor. Leaves his chest feeling tight, constricted and upset. Joly did not deserve this place... none of them did. But of course, he loved his friends. He wouldn't simply leave the other to his own devices. ]
Joly. [ He interrupted the other waving down another- stepped into the other's sight... fearsome wings and horns and all. ] A fishy situation... well, that is one way of looking upon it. Fishier still for those who grow gills themselves, I imagine. I know enough of them now.
[ Enjolras, you should not be allowed to attempt to make jokes. ]
( How to Deal With Changes… Boring! Alternatives to Human Flesh… Funny in a weird way, kind of gross. What to Expect… Well, he's not expecting anything!
The people here are real nice! Den passes off on two offers from strangers to stay in their homes, but he's still touched by it. What a nice town! Okay, he's pretty sure he's been kidnapped or… or something, and he needs to call his boss for sure, but everyone is so friendly! Since there's not much worrying would accomplish right now, Denmark doesn't bother.
He walks down the main road, glancing through his pile of funny brochures; seeing someone ahead of him, he raises an arm in greeting, flashing a brilliant, clueless smile. )
Hey! Excuse me! ( Den holds up the brochures. ) Is there a recycling bin for these?
[Lithuania's cloak covers him up enough that, until Denmark addresses him, he thinks he might be able to get away without having how he looks brought up. Of course, there's always the chance Denmark won't recognize him--and it would be rude to not answer at all, so he'll have to hope for that.]
They don't seem to do much recycling here, I'm afraid.
[one] [It is impossible to fend all these people off while holding an impressive amount of pamphlets. When he tries to read one there is someone tugging at his arm, offering him a place to stay, and when he wants to respond to that another is talking to him about food.
Robb knows very well that these people are only here to help him while he tries to make some sense out of everything and while his irritation grows he tries to remain calm and polite. A nod here, a smile there and sometimes a couple of kind words.
Eventually he manages to wiggle himself out of the situation a little so he can settle down and read the pamphlets and parchments they have been given him.]
These people are mad.
[He mutters the words softly to himself, shaking his head. The papers speak of changes and creatures that could do well in any story Old Nan used to tell him when he was younger. And no, he has no idea that rabbits could grow scales.
Even though the memories of his own death are extremely inconclusive, one thing stands out, he really should not be here. Or alive, for that matter.]
[Two] [If he had Grey Wind next to him he might have had a better chance to find a way out of these woods because at this point he is only walking in circles. There is that tree again with the odd, curly branch and that group of mushrooms.
Despite the fact that he is growing tired and rather cold he forces himself to walk on, deciding that it might not be a good idea to chase after these children. Their laughter seems to be coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. As if they were ghosts.
It is that same laughter that makes Robb wary about the figure that is slowly approaching him. He cannot entirely see if it is a man or a woman and, most of all, if they mean well or not? Robb has no weapon on him and even though hiding behind a tree seems like a very good thing to do, he just stands till, watching carefully. After all, Robb Stark is no craven.]
[The woman that strides up to him is rather terrifying in appearance--in large part, because of the leathery wings protruding from her back, but also because of the fangs and claws and ever so casual smile, and also that red smear across her nose that she's started applying again. Every so often the wings twitch, as if yearning for flight--like a grounded hawk, so to speak.
Hawke leans on over, just so, and then--proceeds to pluck one of the pamphlets right out from Robb's hands, eyes scanning it over critically before she drops it back into his lap.]
Can't imagine why, really, they seemed so perfectly nice. Quite willing to explain just what a leather-scaled winged jackrabbit was, in fact. [Clearly, tact is not something she likes to go in for.]
[Gideon's only been here for, what, twenty minutes, and those pamphlets are giving him an idea. Maybe not a good one, though the fact that he's still got his suit's the luckiest break he thinks he's gonna get. But anyway, it's not hard to find a box to stand on, though it is hard to keep the hair in place now that some of the gel's worn off -- right, so, find a hair salon as soon as possible. And sure, alright, being here doesn't seem like it's gonna work out well for long -- he feels kinda stomach achey, like he's been eating peanuts -- but you know what, it's gotta be better than prison, right?]
Ladies and gentlemen, if you'd gather 'round, I think I can do a little bit of magic for you. Hey-hey, don't back away now, it's not gonna hurt you none! No vampire bites or werewolf teeth here, that's a guarantee! But I've a bit of a knack for, gosh, I guess you'd call it seein' the future, and if you give me just a wiittle bit of money, I can tell you somethin' that's gonna happen to you!
[First stop, make BS predictions. Then, merchandizing.]
[ At first, she thinks the familiar voice is just a coincidence. Not for any specific reason, she just really hopes it isn't who it sounds like. But as soon as she wiggles her way into the crowd, all those hopes are immediately dashed. Because wow, yeah, that is definitely Gideon. She can't even pretend otherwise. ]
Gideon!?
[ Why. Why did she say his name out loud. Why is she here? Maybe he didn't hear her, and she can just slip quietly back through the crowd without being noticed... ]
[Mikazuki has nothing against forests. In fact, he's quite fond of them and frequents them back home for training. The silence, the fresh air, the closeness to nature… and most importantly, he can cut loose and wreck shit with less risk of killing someone on accident.
No, forests are great and Lager Woods are no different. Very pretty and peaceful, he gets why people like to camp there. But after spending the better part of the day (and now night) going in circles, it's only natural to get a little sick of this. The giggling is a nice touch – spooky, very cute – but Mikazuki really wishes whoever's out there will stop teasing and just face him already. He will happily taje on any monster, ghost or serial killer hiding in the dark, but they have to work with him a little.
When he hears a rustle behind a nearby bush he turns around, grinning wide. It's a very friendly, cheerful smile, but there's a dangerous eage to it.]
Who goes there?!
[He bellows, and it's quite obvious he's hamming it up for fun. In a more normal tone, he adds:]
Look, I'm really not into the whole spooky mystery stranger in the dark thing, so you have five seconds to come out before I go over there and make you! One… two…
[His tone is still perfectly amiable, like he's inviting someone over for a party.]
[ Four (Troll) ]
[Some people take the transformation hard. They scream in pain, they refuse to believe it's real, they crumple onto themselves in anguish, woe is me and what have I become etc etc.
Mikazuki Shinonome is not one of those people.
Sure, it hurt like a bitch at first and there was an awful lot of blood, but to someone known as a "battle demon" it's just another day ending with y. No pain no gain, went the cliché and Mikazuki seems to have gained quite a lot. Once he wiped the blood off, he decided that the horns and the yellow gemstones on his skin look good in their own freakish way, not to mention he must've gotten a bunch of awesome monster powers.
Of course, he has no idea what those awesome monster powers might be, but he's getting all fired up just thinking about it. He has to figure it out now now now and he knows exactly how to do it.]
Hey! Hey you! Wanna fight?
[He smiles at whoever it is. Mikazuki always looks a little crazy when he's this eager, and his newly elongated lower canines probably don't help.]
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