graveyardsmash | TEST DRIVE MEME

2; This isn't Kansas

[Ginko reads the pamphlet in her hand again. It was utter nonsense. What was all of these 'monsters'? Bears were the biggest threat to humans, weren't they? Werebear, though. She was one of those already, wasn't she?

Tilting her head she sniffs the air. It's strangely... scentless. It's something that makes her shiver slightly. This entire area should be rich in smells and sounds. Yet, there it was. It wasn't.]

Growl... This place is weird.

4; Wildcard

[The fog a few days ago had brought changes, yes. Black fur was beginning to sprout on the back of her neck, extending down her back. The headache of the little bumps jutting out of her hair were annoying. Ginko had nearly rubbed the spot raw with her long (if ultimately dull) fingernails.

At least a wash had gotten most of the blood out. Most.

Though, what she had decided was a good thing about these changes? Was the return of her senses. Once more she could smell the pleasures of the city. To enjoy the particular scents of crowded areas and--is she heading towards a lone woman.

Sniffing the air she says:]

Growl.

[The woman blinks as Ginko continues.] You smell good.

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

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

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

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

[ooc: A COUPLE THINGS. One, her name's just pronounced "Suzy". Her name is a bitch to spell, sorry.
But two, HSM is a real dark film with some real dark concepts and situations; while I'm gonna keep away from anything heavy since lol tdm, she might mention stuff about death/murder/sexual whatnots/etc., just as a general warning. Puppets are fucked up, yo.
If that makes you uncomfortable, please don't be nervous about telling me so!]

[A - let's assume it's nighttime because Reasons]

[Oh, man. There are a lot of unpleasant things Siouxsie's gone through in life, but up until now? A mouthful of sand had been thankfully left off the list.
Check that one off, apparently. That is horrid. Mix that up with the literal salt in her actual wounds, and it's just a recipe for one grumpy Puppet.

She reaches up to her face to brush the sand off of it, grimacing lightly as she does her very best to stand... only to realize - hang on a second.
She's touching her face. As in - her actual face. Hand to skin.
Which means anyone who happens to be watching or... just within earshot at all gets to hear a string of lovely, ladylike curses from a woman who wouldn't look out of place in a Tim Burton film, as she tries to cover her face in her hands - scanning the beach with bleary eyes as she tries to find at least a little of that familiar white...]

What the - where the hell is my mask...!?

[B - and now it gets to be daytime, also because Reasons]

[Okay, the sand was bad. The injuries? Worse. Losing her mask for who knows how long? Terrible. But this?
This is torture. She'd found a nice, comfortable place to stay for the night - needing to rest for some stupid reason she can't quite figure out - and when she'd awoken, it wasn't because she wanted to.
It was because some horrible death ray decided to zap through her window, hitting her eyelids like a slap across the face. Certainly woke her up, at least.

But now, everything is decidedly more difficult. Information would be nice, as would a bite to eat... yet as it stands, she can hardly walk down the sidewalk without stumbling into things like a blind woman, her hands over the eyeholes of her mask; but whenever she moves them to try and see?
All she can do is suck in a sharp breath of pain, immediately covering them again.

So, y'know. Hopefully you're not just standing around... because she's certainly bound to run into someone eventually. And literally!
At least it means she's found someone she can interrogate about this - letting out a shaky, not at all mirthful laugh like someone's just pulling a meanspirited prank on her.]

Hey - you're not just standing around 'cause you're as blind as I am, right?
What's with the big ball of death hanging out in the sky? Is that what's making everything too fucking bright?

[Where she comes from... daytime is just nonexistent. The concept of actual days at all doesn't exist - how could it when the world's constantly plunged in eternal nighttime?
But that means Siouxsie's suffering like a bat who woke up at the wrong time - the sunlight making it near impossible for her to see without hurting.]

01
[She chokes and she can taste the grime, the thickness of the sand within her mouth, between her teeth but she's tasted worst before. The wetness clings to her clothes, worn with years of tear from another owner, her hair damp and the first thing she thinks of is I can't swim. The salt water sticks to the small open wounds that litter her skin and it burns, but it's not the worst pain she's felt. Alone though, she is alone and being alone is no longer so familiar, she never really has been. Coughing, she spits the sand onto the ground as she pushes herself up with a breath as eyes look over the area, the scent in the air, the way it clings to her, humid and scented with the residue of guns loaded into the body of a corpse. Behind her the ocean stands, the waves rolling up onto the shore, dampening her footwear more than it has already, the heavy jacket on her torso is stifling compared to the winter from where she came.

Ellie has never seen the ocean before, it's a distraction, a different sort of outside but there is tension there, resting on her shoulders. Back where she came there is someone she is looking after, back from where she came it was snowing.]

Okay, okay.

[The fourteen year old repeats to herself as she tries to grasp her surroundings, tries to find the lay of the land, brushing sand off the front of her, the wet granules falling to reunite with the ground. Her pack is gone, her knife is gone, her bow is gone and she is alone. There is not a soul in sight, only the clothes on her back are what she remembers of the moment before she opened her eyes, before she was suddenly washed up upon a shore. Swallowing a heavy breath she moves towards the foliage. There is safe, there is cover, she's thinking like she should back from where she came and there are plenty things to hide behind. Whoever approaches, human or beast, the hybrid between, she is quick to round the nearest tree, press her back flat against it, slow her breathing and if need be, she can use her body, she will leap from the brush, she will fight back, but only if need be. Hopefully, they will leave her be, but to approach too quickly is a mistake on anyones part.]

1)

[Jasper spits sand and water out, reviled by the grit left between her teeth and under her tongue. It's almost obnoxious enough to overwhelm the sensory overload she has coming in her nostrils, but not quite. Mostly because she's not supposed to have nostrils and the sheer fact that she can smell is throwing her world upside-down more than being in a strange location is.

She stays half-prone on the ground, eyes darting back and forth, uncomprehending. She's also gasping for air, something she usually only did when injured as many gems got used to taking in air when speaking although they didn't need it otherwise.

Her whole form is wrong. It had been wrong before, of course, twisted by Earth's corruption, but this is something else entirely. This body doesn't function like a gem body. It functions like...

...a human one.

She'd rather be corrupted.

Jasper cries out in anger, fingers digging into the wet sand as she tries to pull herself upright. She'd be putting on a more violent display if she wasn't still coughing, spitting, and trying to get this whole breathing thing down.]

3)

Who's there? Stop talking to me!!

[Jasper slams her fist into a nearby lamp post. Normally this could destroy the object, but as a human she isn't quite as physically powerful as she'd been as a gem and she's left rubbing the side of her hand. Why does she have to feel everything?

She makes her way through Bavan in a Mood, ignoring the looks she gets as she does.]

one;;
[There is a tiny brunette on the beach. Waking up wet and covered in sand would piss her off enough as it is but waking up wet with some hick pointing a gun in her face? Double pissed off. Luckily it's never taken her long to gather her wits so her first action is the kick the guy in the shin, just to knock him down. Then she takes his gun from him and smacks him in the back of the head with it. He's probably just stunned. Probably]

The fuck do you think you're doing, pointing this at strangers? Dumbass. [She examines the shotgun in her hand before shrugging] Keeping this, though. Now, where the fuck am I? [She glances down at the guy on the ground, snorting and kicking him in the ribs for good measure]

Guess if you hadn't been such a dick I could've asked you. Oh well.

1. The Beach
[ Scorpius remembers things- as they come back to him, in fractured pieces. The train, the lake, the ministry, the woods- their parents, and Godric's Hollow- with a shuddered gasp, Scorpius inhaled a lungful of water, clawing through the sand, gasping and guttering, before turning his head and retching. He threw up, shoulders heaving, only to be battered by another wave, guttering and gasping as he rolled through the surf, clawing in a panic at the sand and trying his best to orient himself. ]

Albus-! [ He coughed and sputtered, another wave knocking him over, forcing him up the beach, getting sand and water in his lungs again, making him heave and wretch and choke. ] Albu- Dad- Dad! [ He wheezed, tears pricking the corners of his eyes as he fought to drag himself out of the water, trying not to drown- coughing and heaving as he finally reached a point in the sand where the water no longer buffeted him, collapsing there, curling in on himself and taking a moment. Just trying to take it all in, and let himself get some semblance of calm again. ]

2. Around Vandare
[ Okay, okay. So- what would Albus do? What would his dad do? Hell, what would Harry Potter do? Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was no coward- he had fixed time once before, hadn't he? Alone? He had managed. He would manage again now; Scorpius the Unanxious, he had said once- and so it would be, now.

Well, first he supposed he ought to gather information. Figure out where he was, and where he might be able to find a wand. Was Albus all right? Had Delphi been stopped? Was this some new timeline that they had unintentionally created? Scorpius didn't know, and it knotted in his stomach- a rising sense of anxiety that he wished to fight down, but was certainly struggling.

He took pamphlets offered to him, finding quiet, stowed away places to sit and read them, before getting up and circling for more. What he had not expected, were the pitchforks. He had gone pale; the colour of sour milk as they had advanced on him, and he'd brought his hands up defensively- trying to explain- ] I don't want any trouble, I'm just trying to find my way home, if you could just- wait! [ But it was no good, their brandishing was beginning to come too close for comfort, and so the young Malfoy turned tail, and he did the only thing left to his repertoire at that moment- he ran for it, pulling up his still soaking robes in an effort not to trip over his own two feet. ]

3. Wildcard!
[ ooc; the choose your own adventure prompt. don't see something listed that you would like to give a shot? go wild and post it anyway and i'll hit you back. ]

2-ish: A network post appears

< g_nakimura >

Hi everyone. My name is Grace and I'm a newcomer to the peninsula. I have a lot of questions, but I'm going to try and keep it simple. Someone stuffed a lot of pamphlets in my arms five minutes after I got here and I'm trying to sort out what's useful and what's not. I mean, obviously the fur-bearing trout one is a joke ~~I hope~~. It's still a lot of information to go through. You're all more familiar with this place than I am, so I'd appreciate any info you can give me.

Thanks,
Grace

3: Let's go to Dyster

It starts with a dream. At least, she thinks it's a dream, because experience has taught her it usually is. Seek us out, and as loathe as she is to trust a voice in her head, Grace is desperate for answers.

It's night when she arrives in Dyster. The sky is dark, but the heart of the town is alight, figuratively and literally. The scene is eerily familiar. There are no masks or snakes, but the revelers dancing around the bonfire give her pause. She's seen this before, and been an unwilling participant, and she's not very keen on doing it again any time soon. She should leave. Come back when it's daylight and this is over, when it's safe. And yet, Grace can't bring herself to look away...

4: Wendigo

No amount of research could have prepared her for this.

It began with her head. Sharp, immense pain in two points that told her this was not just a headache. No amount of avoiding light and sound could belay the aching, but she couldn't just hide in a dark room, under the covers even if she wanted to. Because god, she was so hungry. Grace found herself at a bar as the fog descended, devouring the greasy fried mess the place passed off as food. Usually she avoided bar fare as it was, well, disgusting, but now she felt nothing, not even sufficiently sated no matter how much she ate. What was wrong with her?

Hours later, the pain in her head grew so unbearable that she stumbled outside for air, and that's when it happened. She could hear it, feel it as the beginnings of something burst through her skull and scalp. Grace screamed, panic overtaking her as she fell to her knees and reached for the new growths.

Stay calm. Stay calm. She repeated to herself, even as she felt the things protruding from her head, sticky with blood, her blood, and she felt her stomach drop. This was really happening. Slowly she drew her hands away, telling herself that she can get through this. She learned enough to know that it didn't all happen at once, and at the time she thought that would make it worse, but now? She would be more than okay with just dealing with surprise horns.

Horns? ... that could be one of several things. Was she becoming a minotaur, or a wendigo? Demons had horns, too. Claws would come eventually, as would her feet reshaping into hooves. How much would that hurt? The more she pondered on this, the more she felt herself calming down. Grace put one bloodied hand over her heart, feeling it slowing as the adrenaline rush subsided. It was over now, she was going to be okay. Well, relatively okay.

Her heart slowed.

And slowed.

And finally, stopped.

Grace's breath caught in her throat. Her extremities started to tingle as the feeling left them.

Wendigo are undead. Was her last thought as a living human being.

Scenario One

[This won't be the first time he's woken up with a mouthful of dirt This also isn't the first time he's woken up covered in scrapes, bruises, and cuts. If he has his way, it sure as hell won't be the last. The tall, scrawny man lets out a long, rasping snarl of irritation as he pushes himself upright, trying to clutch at his head. Trying, being the keyword. He finds out immediately that he's missing his prosthetic arm, and a sharp look at his right leg confirms that it's gone, too.]

Bloody perfect. [The Australian sneers, grimacing as he realizes he's soaking wet.] Oi! Roadhog! The hell happened??

[Silence is not unusual, considering his overgrown partner's lack of witty banter. What is off-putting is that the big cock is nowhere to be seen. His eyes dart this way and that, taking in his surroundings. Lights over there--some sort of civilization--and the scent of gunpowder on the air. He breathes in deep at that, wistfully wishing for an explosion to shatter the silence.... and realizes he's been completely stripped of his explosives. No grenades, no mines, no launcher. He makes a truly vexed sound, thrashing around like an idiot in the sand for a moment before he starts crawling his way up the beach. When the hell did they get on a beach, anyway? Maybe he took a blow to the head got some memories jumbled up. Ah well.]

Can't fuckin' walk, can't fuckin' stand--and not a bomb around to save me life! [He's chattering to himself, lamenting really. Help him out? Or kick him a little, whichever. He can't do much to stop you, either way.]

Scenario Two

[Now this kind of shit is starting to freak him out something fierce. These people won't bloody leave him alone! Offering him food, which has to be poisoned, offering him shelter, which he has no doubt is a nice, comfy jail cell... and then they keep lobbin' these damn pamphlets at him!] I don't WANT ANY! [The man bellows, limping as hastily as he can in the opposite direction. He's literally strung a peg leg together with bits of junk he could find. The thing ain't comfortable, chafing against his skin, but at least he can move.]

[He's refused to read any of the pamphlets, more focused on trying to figure out where the hell he is. Now, he may not know much about geography, but he ain't never heard of no Ryslig--and certainly not any place that's this outdated in technology!] Bloody perfect. [He mutters to himself, and as he limps 'round the corner of the town, someone approaches him out of the corner of his eye. Boiling with frustration, Jamie whirls on the fool in question, snarling out a rebuke.] I already bloody told you, I don't want your goddamn--pamphlets....

[The man who approached him is carrying a pitchfork in his hands. More are behind him, some bearing torches, others with similar weapons. Junkrat feels a grin twitch nervously across his face, lifting his good hand as though to soothe them.] Easy, cobber, I don't want no trouble--

[And then he sprints, hobbling as fast as he can in the other direction. Their shouts of surprise are delightful, but it isn't long before he realizes they've given chase. Shit, shit, shit, they're gonna catch him, and he doesn't even have a grenade to protect himself! You might hear him giggling like a lunatic, but judging by his wide-eyed expression, he's more rattled than pleased.]

Edited 2016-09-09 16:05 (UTC)

SCENARIO ONE

[As he shifts and comes to from slumber, Roadhog realizes he’s absolutely soaked and his mouth is full of grainy, damp earth. His first thought is that his partner, Junkrat, had pulled another “humorous” joke on him. He groans while trying to push himself up from the sandy ground, opening small wounds all over his body that seem to sting. Sting? When the hell did a cut ever bother his tough hide? After spitting out the majority of the sand, Roadhog starts to notice the awful pain from the headache as he sits up, the dryness of his mouth and throat. Hang on, why the fuck was he on a beach? Roadhog swears he and Junkrat were at least on the road and nowhere near a body of water. They took a quick snooze off to a shady motel as usual, right?? Or were they in the middle of a heist.. dammit.. The big man tries his best to remember, growling low as he scratches at his whiskered chin.]

Wait..

[He could touch his face?? Hell, he spit out sand just a second ago! His mask! Where the hell is his mask?? The enormous junker slightly panics, starting to wheeze anxiously—but- ah-
There it is, laying a few feet away from him. Those big paws reach for it, bring it to his face and strap it on securely. Once he can take a few heavy breaths through the mask, he’ll feel calm again.]

…

[Seems his partner isn’t around. It’s too quiet and Junkrat would be chatting up a storm by now. The jackass probably scurried off somewhere—Well-- unless he drowned. …. Roadhog hopes that isn’t the case. The sight of lights in the distance seem promising. If anything, he could ask someone if they’ve seen the little bastard, get water and food in his system… Yeah. That sounds good. He then rises carefully, with heavy grunts and snorts, and starts off in the direction of the lights.
However, something in the corner of his eye catches his attention.]

Edited 2016-09-09 16:22 (UTC)

[he wakes slowly to the sound of waves and the smell of gunpowder in the humid air, which feels familiar, like home--]

[--until he realizes he has sand in his mouth, coughs, and spits it out, then spits again. disgusting. but not surprising, considering he's facedown on what feels like a beach, from the water lapping at his legs. something stings. he's probably got scrapes.]

[he opens his eyes slowly, assessing his situation and checking that his remaining limbs are in working order. it's not where he went to sleep. but it's also not an attempt on his life, unless his captors were the most piss-poor assassins the world has ever seen and routinely threw their targets on abandoned beaches. the only slightly plausible theory is that somehow he managed to fall off the base at night, not drown, and floated all the way to one of the Seychelles islands. which is beyond ridiculous. but there's no point making a theory without facts, so he looks up at the sky to try and guess where he might be by the position of the stars--]

[--it's cloudy. of course. and he's without his prosthetic leg. this situation just gets better and better. he glances around for some kind of driftwood, trying to work out the best way to get out of this situation, or at least improve it.]

[01]

[Ashe blinks a few times, then closes her eyes again, listening. She'd seen that it was night - maybe she'd be lucky and have some time to get her bearings before seeing anyone else - but not much more than that. She knows the feeling of wet sand, and the sound of the waves would tell her she's on the Phon Coast. Did the Mist drag her all the way there? She didn't think it could do that. Slowly, after stilling her thoughts and forcing herself to calm, she stands. Looking around, ice snakes through her stomach as she realizes that no, this isn't the Phon Coast at all.

She starts walking away from the beach, willing herself not to panic. That won't change anything. She starts walking along the rod nearby, when a noise almost makes her jump out of her skin. She stops, and looks over her shoulder. The moon is bright enough, buf had she missed something? Or had she heard nothing at all, and her mind was playing tricks? There was only one way to find out.]

Is someone there?

[02]

[What kind of place has she found herself in? Eat people? She'd never known a magick that would inflict that particular desire. She tries to ignore it, and tries to ignore the not-as-friendly types. What strikes her about the pamphlets is that she can read them at all.

But those not-so-friendly types aren't going to give her a moment of peace - rightly, she supposes, if what it says in the pamphlets are true. She's weaponless, and she doesn't want to risk magick or calling Belias in this unfamiliar place. She doesn't want to turn her back to them, either. It isn't a big mob, by any means, but its size is a little... inconvenient. Her back isn't yet to a wall, and she figures she has nothing to lose if she attempts parley. She stares them down.]

Calm yourselves. I mean you no harm.

[Her voice doesn't waver; it comes out just like she'd wanted.]

Edited 2016-09-09 21:27 (UTC)

Scenario One

Robbie’s head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. His jacket may as well have been made of lead. He blinked one eye open, slowly, then groaned. There was sand in his eyes. He tried to rub it away with a sleeve, but it was also coated with the grainy material. Where he didn’t feel like dead weight, he burned. The saltwater had soaked through his clothing and made its way into what felt like a thousand little scratches, like he’d tumbled through a patch of briars.

He also happened to be steaming like a clam. The teenager, with great effort, raised himself- sputtering on even more sand and trying to rub it desperately from his dark eyes. His throat was sore, the hot seawater and humid air crushing him. He unzipped his hoodie and dropped it off his narrow frame, immediately sighing in mild relief before scanning for any other sign of life. “Hello?” His voice cracked, like it was on the verge of panic.

Scenario Four (Shade)

There were things to be expected, feathers or fur or fins, but he didn’t think there would be nothing. Less than nothing in fact, he feels like he’s fading right out of reality.

That may have something to do with how he’s sort of merging into the fog, or so it seems. Robbie stared down at his hands. They felt tingly, like living static. Then they faded away, disappearing until he could only see the concrete at his feet. But they were going too, Tennis Shoes disappearing into darkness.
The teen stumbled back, falling into a building. Falling through a building. He phased through the wall, landing on the floor inside.

Robbie’s stomach heaved, his body screaming like he’d landed on a bed of nails. He had no faith in his own legs anymore and so stayed down. Panting, terrified, the transforming young man shouted hoarsely. “Help!”

ONE
[ If anyone is nearby, the only thing they'll hear is intense hacking coming from the beach, close to the shoreline. It's because there's ocean water in her mouth and she's spitting it up like a geyser - trying to clear the windpipe she shouldn't even have. Sand comes with the water and it all tastes disgusting. Until this moment, Lapis has never known what it's like to truly drown.

Her body trembling from the cold and from the pain, Lapis just barely brings herself to look up and into the distance. Even with blurry eyes stinging from the salt and exertion of coughing everything up, she can tell this isn't Beach City. But she can't get up and investigate because everything hurts too bad, so for now she just flops onto her side, looking like a dead fish. ]

TWO
[ The smell of salt water is suffocating. It brings back the murkiest of memories and is perhaps the worst thing about this situation - or at least it was, until Lapis realized the other circumstances surrounding her arrival here. The smell of the sea is still stuck to her body from when she woke up on the beach, but what covers her body is now human skin, ravished with flesh wounds. Her heart - she didn't have one before - beats hard and fast in her chest, and the sound pounds in her ears (she didn't have those either) like a heavy drum, throwing off her balance and making her stomach twist sickeningly. Every power she once possessed has disappeared with her gem, and there's no way to escape. Her wings have been clipped once again.

She's been trapped so many times before, perhaps she should be used to it by now. But it's different this time than ever before - everything is wholly unfamiliar, and there's no way she can take this in stride. She thought things would be better, she thought she was getting better living on Earth, but here she is. A prisoner of circumstance, though one she could not this time grasp. ]

Stop... [ She says as people eagerly shove papers into her face, making her dizzy with their zealous. She's so tired and confused and angry - Lapis is so very, very angry, and in her anger, she quickly becomes overwhelmed and agitated. They do not listen to her small voice, and so, she becomes loud, almost uncontrolled in her volume as all her pent up confusion and rage comes screeching out of her tiny body. ]

I said STOP! GET AWAY FROM ME RIGHT NOW!

[ A few of the natives are startled by her outburst, backing away with fearful eyes. Lapis sees those eyes and feels as though her human heart is sinking to her stomach, another wave of sickness rocking through her. She hates when she gets so emotional like this. Lapis breathes in a shaky, unstable breath and takes a step back, not knowing what to do. She's not used to needing air, and it feels like her lungs are about to burst. ]

I- I don't- [ And so, staring at those who stare back for a few more moments that seem to drag on forever, Lapis turns and runs. She doesn't know where she's going or how far she gets until she bumps into someone - her outstretched hand smacking right into them. Startled, she turns sharply towards the stranger she's bumped into, eyes stretched wide. ]

Scenario One

[Before his eyes even open, he was first sputtering on the salt and grit that made it to his mouth despite the mask. Once he does crack open aching eyeholes, the man finds himself staring down the barrel of a gun from upside down.]

Oh. Is this really happening? At least you set the scene for me Ms. Narrator.

[Excuse me?]

Shut your trap and don’t move!

Ha! Nice threat buddy, but wait your turn!

[Fourth wall breaking isn’t allowed, I’m not here.]

Oh okay, don’t mind me then. Go on and narrate how this guy’s looking at me funny since he doesn’t have the nuts to just shoot already!

[.... That is indeed what is happening and Deadpool should probably be wondering why those irritated scratches aren’t healing instantly.]

Wait what…?!? I call foul! What kind of sick and fucked up fantasy world did you pull me into?!

Scenario 4

[The fog comes in to do its worst like it does to so many others. Besides that the weather change, cracking and snapping does capture Deadpool’s attention.]

Oh really? Am I supposed to humor you with that?

[His shoulder blades snap as something ossifies on top of the bone before ripping out from under his skin with gushing rivulets of blood and through the suit. Fire opal that glows an angry red clinks and cracks into shapes that are vaguely wing or shield-like.]

Hey! This was my favorite su-phleguhh…!!!

[Much too fast, pathetic human teeth shatters into pieces as tusks grow out sideways from his mouth, tearing easily though the mask before he has time to pull it up. Tiny golden colored horns break through the top of his head and push against the fabric as well. And finally, ivory claws rip out from his nail beds while greasy and bristly black fur thinly grows all over the mercenary’s chest, the rest of his back, and on part of his infamously handsome face.

Eyyyy, this seems familiar almost to his not-so-inner nerd.]

...Hey you’re right it kind doe-th! Wait what….?

[He waddles a few steps around yanking at the fabric that covers the smoking hot ass under it.]

I thought I checked thid-th thing for weggies...!?! Schrew it.

[Tearing into said fabric, he pulls out a golden leonine tail.]

Oh! Well I’m diggin’ the referncshe now!!!

---

[OOC Note: Since this guy's more than infamous for 4th walling, please note if you would rather it be reigned in.]

[Snake coughed. Hard. He also spat out wet, bitter sand, as he pulled himself from the mouth of the ocean. What the hell? He realised that he had nearly escaped being drowned by some unknown reason. Wiping his prosthetic hand across his mouth he used his good hand to push himself up off the wet sand. It was then he felt a dull pain, or several dull pains across his torso and legs.

Shit. Bruises? Looking down, he was naked. No guns. No weapons. All he had was his clothes. Had he been attacked and thrown into the ocean to drift amongst the fishes? Had Mother Base been destroyed and he had survived the explosion to end up here? So many questions. The cuts and scrapes were what worried him most.

Who did this to him? He adjusted his pony tail and looked around the deserted beach. Huh. No one. Seemed a little off. The whole place seemed a little off, as none of it seemed local to the Seychelles. Surely, if he had drifted from Mother Base he would have ended up somewhere local? His head ached and he was tired. So tired. He felt like shit. Instinctively reaching down to pull his iDroid he realised it wasn't there. Damn. He really was naked Snake. How could he contact base? Or Kaz? Ocelot even? He was marooned.

Snake knew he'd had to rely on his survival skills to get him out of this one. Nothing new to him, since he was a hardened soldier, used to spending days or weeks out in the desert or savannah.]

[1]

[There is possibly nothing more startling than going from being indoors (decidedly trapped indoors, mind), to being outside. Not just outside, though, but laying prone on the beach completely drenched from head to toe. And when Chihiro comes to, he finds himself almost half submerged in sand. He only stares at it in confusion for a brief moment before quickly pulling back, sitting up and looking around with wide, startled eyes.

The last thing he remembers...the bear, that trial...that horrible execution they'd been forced to stand there and watch. He'd been planning on going to speak to Mondo, and...then what? Did something happen?]

I...I don't understand...

[Chihiro can be heard whispering to himself as he turns his hands over, checking either for wounds or to make sure they're actually real. There's no way he's just outside now, is there? All the exits and entrances had been barred with the windows completely locked tight. No, there's no way.

Yet here he is, sitting in the sand while being pretty well covered in it, too confused and overwhelmed to actually stand up just yet.]

[3]

[While he can appreciate the feeling of not being alone in a place like this, the feeling he's getting now isn't exactly a positive one. It's more along the lines of creepy, like...he's being followed or watched by someone. As Chihiro walks, he finds himself near an old looking arcade that's somehow more familiar seeming than anything else he's come across before.

That voice is enough to snap him out of it when he starts watching the robots, a soft cry issuing from him as he jumps and draws his hands to his head to cover the sides of it. Then, when nothing actually happens, he straightens back up and calls out.]

Is...is someone there?

[4] - Wendigo

[The threat of becoming a monster is something that Chihiro has been fearing for weeks, now. Everyone keeps telling him that it's going to happen...it's going to be painful and then he's going to have to eat people to survive once it does. It's simply not something that Chihiro can actually wrap his head around. And, unfortunately for him, his changes had happened quite suddenly and without warning.

Nobody told him that he was going to die.

Compared to what was in store for the Programmer, having his heart suddenly stop one day was possibly the least of his worries. Having his ears turn into longer ones that were soft and furry was even less of a big deal, somehow. But having both of his legs suddenly break while walking down the street? That wasn't something that any of the prior changes could have prepared him for.

It happens quickly, but the pain is scathing. Not wanting to watch, Chihiro has to cover his face with both hands while his legs grow and shift, broken at odd angles before reshaping themselves into something totally different. But being unable to see doesn't stop him from hearing the way his bones grind and pop, his crying just barely muffled by his fingers digging into his face as he just waits for the pain to subside.

By the time it finally does, Chihiro's left half-sitting, half-laying on the ground as he peeks through the gaps of his fingers, trembling from head to toe. Seated in a pool of blood, he can see now that his legs are no longer human at all. They're deer legs- hooves, speckled fur, and all.

Chihiro lets out another cry and hides his face again. He only tries to stand up once a few minutes later, quickly falling back over again to sit in what remains of the shorts he'd been wearing.]

Edited 2016-09-11 19:47 (UTC)

Scenario 1

It's not a weird thought to be drenched in seawater. No, it's actually quite a normal thought, considering where he's supposed to be. A set of tropical islands, surrounded by the sea.

What's weird is that Kazuichi definitely doesn't remember going for a swim. Especially not fully dressed. Though that would explain why he feels like he was drowning just a while ago. It wouldn't explain why he's full of guts and a feeling that something's off (other than his normal state of paranoia).

Kazuichi winced and coughed some more water out of his lungs, ready to actually get up, when he hears a click above him. Cautiously, he looks up... and stares right into a barrel.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit?! Is this it? Am I the next victim of this game? A-At least he survived quite a long while - longer than some others. This isn't how he wanted to die - he didn't want to die any way, but if he had to, he'd rather go painlessly and so that he doesn't stare death in the eye first!

"Th-There's no way... Y-You'll get away... with this... Hinata will... findoutwhoyouare and then you're dead!"

If he has to die, then at least let him say that. Whoever was about to kill him. Kazuichi is almost willing to give Komaeda a guess with his stepping stones and stuff, but he's too scared to look up.

Scenario 4 (Kelpie)

This was not okay. NOT. OKAY. Kazuichi has learned about monsters the hard way (or the easy one, but it's a very bad way in his opinion anyway). He's also aware that he'd be turning into some kind of a monster as well. That didn't mean he was ready for a change!

The changes weren't very huge, but Kazuichi found a way to panic about them. It still hurt when your ears turned pointy and he grew taller all of a sudden.

Yet those weren't even the things that almost gave him a heart attack. It was instead the sight of his own hair growing longer and... thicker. It also felt very icky - like some sort of a sea monster.

"WHAT IS THIS?!" Kazuichi sceamed and tried to get the hair come off, like it was a wig or something. "O-Ouwww... Ewww." What was he becoming, exactly? Thiscan'tbehappeningforreal.

Edited 2016-09-11 20:22 (UTC)

i.

[Waking up covered in cuts and bruises is... new. So is waking up with a mouth full of sand, lying in very shallow waters on the side of a beach. Shigeo pulls himself up slowly, coughing out sand and water as he does while he looks around and tries to understand the situation at hand. The last thing he remembered was... people watching with a schoolmate of his. Nothing special, nothing to warrant randomly waking up on a beach.

Maybe he'd been kidnapped, maybe a tsunami hit and he washed up on another continent... who knows, really. All he knows is that he's obviously not home, and that his body really didn't want him to be awake right now.

So he sits there, trying to catch breath after coughing so much and trying to decide what to do first. That's when he notices someone walking not too far from the beach, a gun slung over his shoulder. Maybe some kind of police officer? He'd be able to help him, right?

The boy pulls himself to his feet and hurries over to the man, a very small relieved looking smile set on his face.]

Excuse me, where-- "Huhh?"

[The man stops when Shigeo approaches, a sneer on his face as he cuts the boy's question off.]

"You've got a lotta' nerves showing your face around here, monster. Got a death wish or something?"

Monster?

[Before Shigeo can ask anything more, the man suddenly grins wide and lets out a cocky sounding laugh... before he rather suddenly brings his gun down, smacking the side of his head with the butt of his gun which very easily knocks Shigeo down to the ground.

Usually... hits like this wouldn't reach him. Or they wouldn't hurt nearly as bad because of a little something called "ESP" but here? Here he doesn't have that.. and he doesn't quite understand that yet. The force of the gun has his head feeling like it wanted to burst, so he stays on the ground where the man then points the barrel, obviously ready to blow his brains out.

Maybe.. someone could give this child a hand.]

ii.

Ah, thank you...

[Shigeo gives a small bow in thanks as a pamphlet is stacked on top of his.. armfuls of other pamphlets. He's a polite boy so he hasn't refused a single person who offered but now he's starting to regret a little bit. He only has so many arms to hold only so many pamphlets, and he hasn't even been given a chance to read them yet.

Which has him trying to read the one on the very top, or at least the cover... but the only thing he can read is 'Turning into a Bear Trout'. By now, he's seen monsters and he's gotten the whole ordeal explained to him.. it's confusing, it's scary but what's even more scary, perhaps, is the idea of turning into a fish covered in fur.

That sounds like it'd be extremely uncomforta--]

Oh--

[Ah.. as he was lost in thought, Shigeo had accidentally bumped into someone, sending all of his pamphlets to the scatter across the ground around the two of them. He frantically gets on his knees and starts picking them up, keeping his head bowed in respect towards whomever he ran into.]

I'm sorry...!

[Please.. be a gentle soul...]

iii.

["Seek us out" said the voices speaking to him from seemingly nowhere.. if Shigeo wasn't already used to weird happenstance because of his ESP powers and running into ghosts or other ESPers, he'd probably be more concerned about it. What he's actually concerned about though is finding where those voices were coming from, and why. He didn't particularly care about them, it's not like he wanted to see if they needed help or something he was just.. more or less annoyed after ignoring it for an hour only to have it repeat over and over in his head. So he set off to find whoever was calling him, which brought him to a peculiar looking arcade.

He didn't question it though when he walked inside.. at least not until he was actually inside and able to see the machines among other things around the old looking building. Was he called here to play video games...? Was there even anyone else actually.. here...

As he steps further into the arcade, that's when he runs across a robot whirring by. Curiously, he follows after it until it's stopped near a machine, and there he crouches in front of it whilst unknowingly blocking it's path.]

I'm looking for the person who was calling me here, do you know who it was?

[It.. of course doesn't respond. And it looks a little panicked because it can't exactly move with him in the way, but he doesn't seem to notice anything off.]

1;

[There are loud sounds of disgust coming from this patch of the beach - spitting out sand is one thing, but she's spitting so much you would think she'd swallow the entire beach and is now trying to cough up every grain of sand one by one. As the first non-digital taste sensation she's ever had, this is a horrible introduction. After a moment she gets up and tries her best to get the sand out of her clothes. It's not going too hot. After a moment, she just gets too frustrated and stomps her feet.]

Ugh! What kind of terrible cloud is this?! It stinks!

[No, literally, it stinks. Why is there gunpowder. She lives in a video game, she probably doesn't even know what that is.]

2-A;

[People keep offering Rin gifts. She sees absolutely nothing wrong with this, actually she's acting like she pretty much expects it. At first, a lot of the crowd simply make offers, but she sticks out her hand with a big smile.]

Really, thanks! - Huh? You don't actually have it with you? Are you kidding me....?

[And she gives them this look of overblown disappointment. She is disappointed in their entire existence. Who doesn't know how to give someone gifts? It's a simple mechanic!

These people get nervous, because most monsters don't act this way, which means she could be more dangerous than most. Rin is oblivious to this though, and soon she's sitting on a bench with a growing pile of presents at either side. Each time someone gave her one, she gave them an honest opinion on how much she liked it. It was all very much like a dating sim, really.

But through all of that shenaniganry, someone finally got to the point and handed her some pamphlets, so she's taking one out to read.]

"Alternatives to Human Flesh"... Oh! Does this mean I could become something other than a human? How about a robot? That'd be super awesome! ♪

[She bounces in her seat at the thought of it. This girl is excitable.]

2-B;

[By now Rin has figured out that she's human, but it's only just now that a thought occurs to her. Breaking away from the crowd suddenly, she runs toward someone that looks cooler (apparently that's you) and asks excitedly.]

Hey! Can you sing? You can sing all by yourself if you want, right? I just gotta know! For reasons.

3

Uh, who- WHOA!

[She's already changed locations?! Her head is spinning, turning left and right in a hurry as she takes in her new surroundings. ...This actually isn't that unusual since she used to teleport on and off stage in the world of the game, but it's the first time it's happened as a human, and for some reason that makes it a lot weirder. She frowns thoughtfully, putting a finger to her mouth.]

Manager, did you do this?

[...But no manager appears. Huh. But, there are robots and electronics all around her, so she seems to fit in here compared to the rest of Ryslig. There's no reason to look for the exit immediately. Those video games look fun, but the voice said to seek, so she's going to try that first. As if she's literally playing Hide and Seek, she's sticking her head into every corner of the arcade now.]

Come out, come out, where-ever you are~ ♪

Don’t worry. Everything will be alright.

What a fool. What an overconfident fool to have made a promise like that when he knew what the odds were. (They hadn’t been too much in his favor.) He’d had one shot, had just the one thing to do—just one. And he’d failed.

The memory of pain and betrayal still throbbed acutely in his right socket. If the poison still coursed through his veins, Shisui barely felt anything. Because really, he could care less about physical pain than what he was leaving behind unfinished. And he’d thought that impact against the rocks under the Nakano would finish him off. He remembered smashing up against a particularly jagged one when the current ripped him away downriver and he distinctly remembered tasting not only water but copper as well – a slurry of stuff that tasted like death. He’d thought it was all over when he’d finally blacked out after his lungs had burned and filled up with the river and the body’s instincts had kicked in and his muscles had exhausted themselves thrashing about in a desperate attempt to stay afloat despite his every intention to just… drown.

He’d thought it was over but—

Here he was again, consciousness ebbing back to lay on the guilt once more; the guilt of having failed, once again, to protect those that meant the most to him. In the grand scheme of trying to redeem himself from the unforgivable crime of murdering his friend, he’d gone and dropped the weight of the world on his best friend’s shoulders. He’d promised to walk beside him, promised to help him realize his dream; but the only thing he’d ended up doing was leaving things a bigger mess than they’d started out with.

And it’s this realization that makes him want to spit out the bad taste in his mouth, the leftover guilt that didn’t look like it had any plans of ever going away.

Shisui is somewhat surprised that guilt tastes a lot like sand and seawater. It makes absolutely no sense and tastes ridiculously real that despite everything, Shisui opens his eyes fully expecting to see. And he does, and it hurtles a good dose of shock his way when he remembers he’d fallen to his death without his eyes. No eyes at all. Just bare sockets: one still bleeding, the other cradling congealed blood.

What.

How—

And when his eyes finally focus and he sees more than just the shore he’d been washed up on… a face? He has to wonder who?

Was this hell…?

2.

[ Wow, everyone's so generous. Elise is gratefully taking everything given to her, even the prank pamphlets, and making sure she thanks each person. Every time though she always stops to ask them the same question, and each time they can't answer her, so on her way she goes.

Apparently even with all the offered help, none of the locals can help her with what she's actually looking for... so with an armful of pamphlets and other things in her arms she decides to run up to the first monster or fellow arrival she sees. Maybe they could help! ]

Excuse me! Have you seen my brothers and sisters?

[ ...oh no. No wonder none of the locals could help her. ]

We were all together before I washed up on the shore, so they must be near by! They're all older than me and really tall, and--

[ You might want to stop her and break it to her that she's probably completely alone before she gets too ahead of herself... or humor her maybe? Sometimes siblings show up together after all; sometimes they're even already here! ]

4. Mermaid

[ Now that most of her initial changes are done, Elise has gotten a little more used to life like this. During the day she likes to explore the city; talk to locals, get to know them, gauge who likes monsters and who doesn't, etc. Of course she likes to make new friends too, with locals and other monsters.

She doesn't even mind her changes much honestly. It was painful when they came in, and it's still a little weird, but she actually thinks her changes are kind of cute! The fins and tail especially. Being able to have legs on land is also pretty convenient! It's almost like being a wolfskin, only without a beaststone. And also a fish!

Plus if Corrin can handle turning into a dragon then dang it, she can handle turning into a mermaid!

It does have its downsides though, as she's discovering right now: she wasn't paying attention to where she was going and ended up tripping straight into a deep puddle. ]

Ouch... that hurt... [ then her eyes widen and she turns her head back to look at her legs ] --Uh oh!

[ Sure enough under her skirt and in place of where her legs were a pink jellyfish tail exists instead. And it's a very pretty tail! One that she would be excited to see in any other circumstance. But right now she's really starting to wish she had a beaststone (fishstone...?) to control this with. ]

Oops...

[ There aren't any other puddles nearby... guess it's time to just crawl herself out and wait to dry. ]

Wildcard!

[ Obligatory I AM STILL BAD AT PROMPTS so hey, if you got something hmu! ]

Edited 2016-09-15 20:26 (UTC)

1.

Sonia had already woken up, sitting up on the edge of the shore as she tended to her wounds. Well, "tended" was a rather loose way to put it, given the fact that there were no supplies in which to clean the scrapes and that the sand was coarse, and rough, and irritating, and getting everywhere. She shivered, rubbing her forearms in attempts to clear them of any more sand that she could. Her thoughts were going a mile a second, trying to place where she was, and where she was before she woke up.

She was far too lost in her thoughts to hear anyone else coming up, if someone did.

2.

It was nice of the natives to give her some reading material to help the princess better understand the place where she had been haphazardly dropped into. Though, perhaps they were a little too generous, as she was given dozens of pamphlets, many of which were duplicates.

All the same, Sonia dedicated the larger part of her day pouring into the reading material, taking notes and giving each one the attention it was worth. If she was going to survive in a place like this, it was best to familiarize herself with the surrounding area and its inhabitants, right? This was a far cry from the trendy dramas and tv shows that she loved to watch, but it was still intriguing all the same. For now, the morbid sense of mortality that haunted most of these papers only seemed to interest her, rather than concern her.

Scenario One

He vaguely remembered the ship going down, succumbing to the ice. He sputtered up the sand, surprised and almost horrified not to be in the frozen waters anymore. Robert looked around frantically, searching out members of his crew. But none were to be seen. He leapt up, only to quickly fall back down. He recognized the scent of gunpowder. He captained a ship after all.

Finally, Robert gathered the strength to call out, propping himself up onto his hands and knees.
"Is anyone there?"
He turned back to the water, desperately searching for his ship, only to find that it, too, was gone. He was growing less fond of being lucky.

stranded on a beach doo-doo-doo-doo

[There's something very wrong with waking up on a beach.

That's because she's dead. Peko's dead. Very dead. She knows she died, she had to have died, she felt it--

But here she is, covered in sand and salt and water, laying and looking up at a hazy sky. It smells like a battleground. She doesn't move for quite a while.

[OPTION ONE: encounter Peko in this state]

After some time has passed (she isn't sure how long, she hasn't been keeping track) she resigns herself to the fact she is alive, breathing. It's hard not to accept, what with the stinging pain all over her body-- but there's no time to fix that until she's somewhere safe. She listens more to what's around her, getting a bearing on her location. She listens for life nearby, laying as still as a drowned girl on the shore, until she's certain she's picked out a path.

She summons all the will she has in her to lift herself up as normal, as swift as she would have before this. Darting from there to a nearby rock formation, Peko conceals herself to regroup and plan.

She listens, and she watches. There's conversation nearby, but there's also the sound of someone walking on the sand. Has she been spotted already? She peers over the rock formation to be sure.

[OPTION TWO: witness Peko spying]

When the footsteps have passed, Peko takes another route. There must be some sort of civilization around here-- it's not like on the island, where it was only her classmates. Something about this place doesn't feel strangely abandoned, and that in itself has her on guard.

But she needs information, and she knows it. Sneaking past the boats of who she writes off as fishermen-- but who knows what they were-- Peko is quick to steal an unattended pocket knife. Then it's time to attempt not only an escape, but to find a target. Anyone walking alone, anyone who looks to be anywhere near a size she can take down.

Once she's chosen her target, it's only a few quick moments before she's got her arm around their neck and her knife pointed right toward their chin.]

Stay quiet.

[She instructs.]

[OPTION THREE: Be Peko's target
OPTION FOUR: passerby; attempt to stop her... or help? you choose]

Edited 2016-09-22 20:42 (UTC)

Ginko Yurishiro | Yurikuma Arashi

Draco Malfoy | Harry Potter | 01

Siouxsie Silen | Heart String Marionette