TEST DRIVE MEME

[rysligmods]

TEST DRIVE MEME

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: The State of the Game Discussion produced a lot of great suggestions and we now have a post for Plot Suggestions and Monster Questions. The NETWORK VOTE results are in and PRIVATE MESSAGING will be added some time in November. 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. Reserve and application dates have been announced. Test drive meme threads can be used for your roleplay sample! Sample scenarios: SCENARIO ONE: You've just been released from the hospital in Vandare and no one really seems to know what to do with you. The locals offer polite advice but don't seem to want to spend a lot of time with you. You and the other new arrivals stick out like sore thumbs, so perhaps one will spot you wandering about town. SCENARIO TWO: You've become hopelessly lost in Lager Woods. Paths don't seem to lead where you remember them leading, and you feel as if you're going around in circles. Childlike giggling can be heard from no direction in particular. Suddenly, you stumble upon another character, who seems to be just as lost as you! Perhaps you can find a way out together. SCENARIO THREE: The time has come and you've found yourself becoming a monster. Is the change instant, or gradual? Are you familiar enough with monsters to know what's happening, or is it a complete shock? NOTE: Feel free to pick any monster type for this prompt, but note that you may not get the same one in game.

Comments

Lindsey McDonald | Angel the Series | open

[evilhandissues]

III.

[Lindsey can't decide if he got lucky or if he's just screwed over in life. First he ends up completely out of his dimension next he ends up...cursed.

At least he thinks it's a curse. No counter curse has been able to correct it however. He's been hunting in the woods for herbs even as his body's grown in size, his nails gone rock like, his shoulder hunched over.

Anything to distract the fact that the guitar he'd purchased is now basically- well - useless.

Today however is a terrible day. He's shot up to six feet tall but he's four feet wide and getting wider which is what's brought him to the market wearing the biggest items he has and trying - trying to find things that fit. At least his pants don't seem to have a problem.

Never mind that when he bumps into you it probably feels like getting slammed into a brick wall]

...I'm sorry, pardon me.

Teddie | Persona 4

[kingofthetvworld]

3. [Werebear]

[It wasn't that Teddie wasn't used to change, in fact his whole life revolved around it. Maybe it's the lack of control he had over this certain transformation that caused him to panic, that moment his tongue felt his teeth elongating against his will is probably something he'll never forget now. It was officially the first sign that something's wrong with him.

Which brings him to where he is now. The moment he felt the changes, Teddie took off into the woods to hide so people couldn't see him in such an awful state. To hear his eventual cries of pain as his face stretched out or when his hands became two giant paws that looked like they could squish a skull with one easy squeeze. And yet despite his changes, he still managed to keep an aspect of beauty to himself, his body covered in a soft looking white fur that made his now much more bear-like form easy to spot even in the cover of darkness. He's Teddie after all, he can't go without something being fabulous.

Looking about as pitiful as a man-eating monster can get, he sulks at the base of a tree and waits for morning. Everything will be better in the morning...

Or at least that's what he tells himself.]

Teddie | Persona 4

[evilhandissues]

[Lindsey isn't feeling well. Ever since the fog he hasn't been feeling well, the sun makes him lethargic, he's been eating more. His skin's itchy, nothing feels right and being around the few people he calls "friendly".

He's been out here playing guitar for a little while now, but every note sounds wrong. Like a hammer is slamming into it. Teddie might hear a crunch and then a crash - and then the sound of something being beaten to a pulp. Occasionally there's an angry snuffling and then a growl, low and deep and rumbling.

If Teddy chooses to investigate he'll probably notice there's splinters of wood and string across the ground and that the man...it's still a man, is sitting amid the ruins weeping. He's hunched over, at least four feet wide and six feet tall and in the fading light (or perhaps the light of someone who can see by the moon) there are patches of almost stone like skin spread across his broadly muscled chest and a few rocks jutting up from a shoulder]

Stocke | Radiant Historia

[makehistoria]

Scenario 4; Bavan

[It's not quite thaumatech, but Bavan does remind him of home. Far more than Vandare, at any rate - the lights of the big city are a comforting reflection of Alistel's capital city. Some of the technology is even ahead of what they'd had back home - the films stumped him the first time he encountered them, and while he's sure Fennel could have invented something like the cars easily, the way they're available to citizenry is startling.]

[Why is he in Bavan? Well, he's looking for a weapon shop. And here he can chalk up another difference from home - at least so far, he hasn't been able to find one. It might just be that Bavan is large and unfamiliar, but in all the cities of Vainqueur, there'd be one somewhere prominent.]

[His first thought, five minutes ago, had been to ask a city guard - here, the equivalent would be a member of the police. Unfortunately, they're anything but friendly to outworld immigrants, and Stocke's clothes give him away, even if he doesn't look much like a monster yet. Worse, he doesn't know when to stop pushing, and however quiet and calm his voice stays, he's asking to know where to get weapons. If someone doesn't intervene...]

Shinon | Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn

[deadlyadept]

SCENARIO ONE;
Everything was suspicious as all get-out and all he wanted at this point was to leave this place.

Shinon couldn't get a straight answer out of anybody he asked. Fidgets and stutters comprised the answers from the locals, but it didn't help that his tongue was sharp and demanding. Impatient. The hospital staff wasn't helpful either - he couldn't find a single doctor who could tell him why he was there. They all spouted the same nonsense: something about him being in the ocean, which he refused to believe. He hadn't been out at sea for a good while, and he was certain his memory wouldn't fail him. As for directions back to Crimea, the locals couldn't tell him a single thing. It was hopeless.

He'd just about had it. In an effort to keep his cool, Shinon leaned against the wall of a building and took a deep breath. He twisted the end of his ponytail around in his fingertips when he opened his eyes next, and let his eyes wander along the people in Vandare. Really, it was because he was at a loss of what to do next. Maybe some time to think would give him direction - or maybe he'd chance upon somebody who could give him a tip.

(If any of that failed, he was sure he passed a bar not too long ago. Shinon entertained pickpocketing to buy himself a drink. He needed it more than any of these sorry saps needed their wallets.)

That was only if he lost all of his patience. In the meantime, he'd wait and see if he could find somebody who had something else to say other than Sorry, I can't help you.


SCENARIO TWO;
As someone who lived as a mercenary for much of his life, Shinon thought he could trust his sense of direction and his instinct. Unfortunately, this damned forest was something he could only liken to the Gallian forests: not nearly as humid, but definitely comparable in size and inhospitality. Thanks for nothing, creepy, echoing laughter.

Just when Shinon started to doubt his sense of direction for the second time, he noticed somebody moving in his peripheral vision. It was a person, right? He sighed softly. Time to give this a shot.

"Hey, you!" he called out. "What are you doing out here?" ...Ha ha because he wasn't about to admit he was lost or anything. Nah.

((ooc: Action or prose is fine by me. o7))

Jeyne Poole | ASOIAF | MASSIVE SPOILERS

[flayling]

( one )

[The girl stumbles as she walks, thin and ghostlike. Most don't talk to her. A local or two may steer her in another direction, but the girl with mousy brown hair and vacant eyes keeps walking. She's purposeless. Perhaps she should be overjoyed. There's no sign of a Bolton, so she should take this time to flee, to take cover, to do something other than aimlessly wander. But her psyche is frail, even without somehow miraculously ending up here.

If there was something else to cling to, hope or anything but confusion, she would. But everything seems to pass through her. There are no answers, just questions that never seem to stick. The only thing she had was "Arya", and while she once pleaded for a rescuing now that one is seemingly in her hands, she finds herself more alone than holed up in the tower. Where is she to go to here? Would they know her? Would they know Arya?

No one talks with her long enough, and she finds herself pleading to find somewhere to go. If she could find Reek, if she could find someone...]

MY SWEET SWEET... SPOILER

[flaya]

[One must be more specific when imploring some higher power. Someone could be anyone. Someone could be the beast in human skin who laid claim to her just as he laid claim to Winterfell as it's new lord with the power of her false name. He knows her as naught but Arya, caring little to hear what Vayon Poole must have called her once. Her father was slain many a moon ago as the gods turned a blind eye to her suffering.

Ramsay Bolton would know those sobs everywhere. Walking up behind her, he casts his shadow over her frail figure.]

Sweet wife, it seems you've found your way back to me once more.

Seren || Original Character

[philosphers_snark]

SCENARIO TWO:

"Shut the hell up!"

Seren stood still, teeth grit as he clapped his hands over his ears. Damn laughing. Damn children! Were they in his head? It was hard to focus, and panic made him irritated. Irritation made him panic more. It was a vicious cycle.

Alright, so the invisible brat brigade wasn't likely to do as he shouted and shut up. Fine. They were leaves in the wind, only so much detritus that didn't matter. If they mattered, they would've attacked by now instead of giving him the creepiest serenade of hollow joy he'd ever heard.

"...need to get up high," he suddenly whispered, eyes opening. Slowly, he brought his fingers from thick green hair he'd buried them in and looked up. And up. Climbing was not a strong suit, but desperate times called for desperate measures. If going sideways was getting him nowhere, it was time to think outside the box.

Seren smirked, grim and dark and headed with determination to a solid tree and began to climb.

[formulaforachoice]

He probably shouldn't have been following him like he was. The way he was going about this, Lenus was probably only adding to Seren's fear and paranoia, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. But it wasn't like he could walk up to him and start talking either. Not like this.

It seemed so easy to turn and head back, to pretend like he never saw anything. Maybe he could convince people to pretend that he'd never come to the peninsula or that he never even existed. It would be better that way, right? No one would ever have to know.

Lenus shut his eyes and turned his head, and as he went to leave, the sound of a branch cracking seemed to echo far too loudly in the forest.

yukio okumura ;; ao no exorcist ;; open.

[gokuri]

( ii )

[ he isn't directionally challenged. he isn't.

but the fact that he's found himself out in the woods, completely out of touch with what direction he should go in order to get back to vandare doesn't lend any weight to that supposed fact. it doesn't matter which way he turns, how many steps he takes before he tries taking yet another turn – he's lost, and the realization is sinking in that he can't convince himself otherwise.

and then, of course, there's the giggling. the detached, hollow sort of sound that seems to burrow into the middle of his chest and make a home for itself there, spreading an eerie sort of cold through him with each step he takes. it's unsettling, to say the very least, and he doesn't like a single bit of it.

but that really should go without saying. and it's going to.

yukio stops at some point, tries to get his bearings, eyes narrowing as he turns first to the left and then the right, an attempt at identifying something that looks even moderately familiar. maybe a tree he's already passed. a rock. a leaf. he'll take anything at this point.

what he wouldn't give for a compass … ]

[flashover]

[even during the day, the Lager woods were creepy. Maybe it was Tikbalang's influence, a way to keep nosy humans out of his woods. Or perhaps it was the Fog God's doing. Whatever the cause, the dappled sunlight didn't quite filter down to ground level, and the giggling made everything eerie.

Rin had long gotten used to it. He no longer got lost. The forest's keeper had taken pity on those poisoned by the fog god and allowed them refuge there as long as they were kind to it; took only what they needed, respected its flora and fauna. Rin could still get away with just eating animals, though every day, he felt his hunger for something else grow stronger and stronger. It would only be a matter of time before he had to do the unthinkable.

But for now, deer and rabbits and small game satisfied his needs.

The bushes to Yukio's right rustle and a doe jumps out, nearly running right into him in the process. The deer is panicked, fleeing like her tail is on fire. And it becomes immediately obvious what when something jumps out of the bushes after it. Something with black fur and bat-like wings, something with two tails and a snarling mouth. The deer makes a sharp turn, and the cat-like creature flares its wings to change direction]

Waver Velvet | Fate/ Zero

[powerthroughexperience]

Scenario 2:

[ Waver wasn't lost, no. He just couldn't quite figure out which was he was supposed to go. He. Was. Not. Lost. People didn't really just wander into the woods and get lost by default, it was highly improbable. Very unlikely. Yet... He couldn't shake that nagging feeling that he was well and truly turned around...

It had been about three hours since he hesitantly wandered in, in an attempt to see if there were anything useful growing there. Sure, he seemed to have lost connection with his magic circuits in this land; but that didn't mean the practical uses for some plant life, or at even hypothesized uses, didn't still apply.

Honestly he had regretted it about five minutes after stepping foot into the forest, he wasn't some great botanist, tracker, or even camper. Then about an hour and a half later the giggling had started. At first he'd thought he might have found his way back to the outskirts of the woods, and had heard children playing near by. But after a pointless bout of shouting for attention and stumbling around, he realized he'd been mistaken and only gotten himself more lost than before.]

What have I gotten myself into?

[He mumbled to himself and dragged his fingers down his face in an exaggerated, drawn out motion.

This -this whole place, curse and all- was some kind of cosmic punishment for stealing that scrap of Alexander's cloak from Kayneth. That had to be it. The universe or god, what ever was continuing to throw lemons at his head, was punishing him for being so full of nonsense and daring to go against the system that had been the facts of the magical community for ages.

He would have laughed and shot some sarcastic comment at the sky because of these very thoughts if he weren't so freaked out by the incessant giggling and the fact that he couldn't find his way back the way he'd come when he entered the forsaken forest.
Instead, he continued to wander about, eyes darting back and forth somewhat frantically with an obvious frown of dismay painted across his face.]

[1_800_failgod]

[ --when suddenly, Waver might feel a hand in his back pocket.

Yato, having briefly displace the awareness that he is, in fact, no longer a denizen of the Far Shore and all-around divine being, is up to his usual mischief of foraging for food and trying to find work, and right now he's attempting to multitask and do both at once. This sweet, distressed young lady appears in need of help! But first Yato's just going to see if she has any candy in her pockets, or perhaps spare pens. ]

Alt timeline Robin (M) | Fire Emblem: Awakening | SPOILERS HEAVY

[destinationsatan]

One: [Robin might actually be...pleased? Sure there was the tugging of guilt that Chrom needed him, that Ylisse needed him, that there were lives that depended on his council and guidance, but the purpose of all of that had just been to get him away from his father, and he'd done that. Right? He had no idea how, but he'd wound up in somewhere totally new. Never once in his life had he seen "Vandere" on a map, and that gives him hope. His working theory right now was that he'd gone overboard on a ship somewhere and gotten washed onto a far shore, well out of the reach of the Grimleal.

He wasn't ready to drop his guard yet however. He might be, (big emphasis on that might be) safe from his destiny for now, but being stranded in a new place with nothing but the clothes on his back wasn't ideal. So of course the first thing he does is head immediately for the library.

He cuts an odd picture, a white haired man in an elaborate purple and gold robe pouring over a table filled to the brim with maps, history books, and a good number of scientific books too. He's enthralled by what he's learning. Wherever he'd wound up had unbelievable scientific prowess. So much so that he was actually having trouble understanding large portions of it. Electricity was fascinating, but many of the things under "biology" just seemed like half baked myths. I mean...cells? What?]

This can't be true...

Three (Arachne): ((WARNING FOR GORE AND EYE HORROR))

[His first change comes with no pain whatsoever. He blinks his eyes open, and doesn't even notice until he spots his face in the mirror. But there, plain as day are two new sets of eyes just under his original pair. His first, despairing thought is that they do not look out of place on him. They match the color of his own eyes, and they're lined up in slight curves, blending easily with the structure of his face. An old terror he thought long banished wells up, and it comes with anger. All six eyes glare into the mirror, and all six glare back at him.

He lets out a frustrated and angry shout and turns from the mirror, stomping back into his room. He takes a moment to breathe, but it does nothing. He is furious. A sick, defeated resolve settles like a weight over him and he slowly approaches his desk. There's an decorative dagger laid off to the side, little more than a letter opener, but it would do. He takes it in the hand that bears his brand, and examines the blade. His vision is better with the six eyes. He can see details on his skin and in the work of the metal he had not thought possible. But that was little comfort.

He would not let this follow him here. If Validar had found a way to complete the ritual without him present, then he was a fool if he thought Robin would not continue to resist. He takes a bracing breath then stabs into one of his new eyes, a scream wrenched from his throat as blood pours down from the socket. He lets out another pained cry as he pulls the knife back. His hand shakes.

One down, three to go.]

one!

[roomvisits]

[ Ahh, catching up on your research? Theodore has found himself locked away, nose buried within a book as well! Humans are so... interesting! Their short, little lives make them awfully compelled to write everything down.

Not that any of these books would hold the knowledge he desired, not this very moment... Theo's been feeling rather sickly-- humans wouldn't nor couldn't understand a creature like him, best keep his worries private. ]

Perhaps you've stumbled upon the "fiction" section, why-- then, of course, you'd be right! It isn't true... [ Those bright yellow eyes starred Robin down with that blank look, not intimidating yet serious. ]

Sahu | Wake Up Deadman | open

[livingdeadboy]

II.

[ One day Sahu was skipping merrily through the forest... no that's actually a lie. This forest was creepy as hell. Why was he even IN here. There might be bears just waiting to eat him. And he was actually alive and human again and totally not a zombie which was totally super awesome. Still had some seriously gnarly scaring on the side of his face but hey, least he had a heart now, and one that was actually working!

So why on earth was he risking his newfound life by walking around in a forest lost for hours? Well it didn't seem that creepy at first and it looked like a nice quiet place where he could do some serious thinking (rare for him but whatever). And then the paths decided to go all wiggly or something when he wasn't looking.

Made no sense but nothing really made sense since arriving here either. So he tried to keep his spirits up. A little music was certainly called for. He didn't have his guitar with him but he could still sing and he had a good voice. Before long he was singing bits of Roundabout by Yes as he tried very hard to keep cool and not get freaked out by the weird shaped boulder that he could have sworn he'd already passed five times already. ]

I'll be the roundabout, the words will make you-HOLY SWEET JESUS CHRIST WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU COME FROM?!

[ Of course the second he stopped paying attention to things he nearly slams right into someone else. He's half afraid his new heart has now suffered irreparable damage with how crazy it's thudding inside his chest. ]

[peaceloving]

[ Well, that was loud.

Itachi favors this newcomer with a long look before answering at a much more reasonable volume.]

I've been here for several minutes. [A pause to let that sink in.] You aren't particularly experienced at this. [It isn't a question.]

GLaDOS | Portal 2

[still_alive]

I.

[ She woke up.

A rather simple place to start, perhaps, but it's important. She woke up. Any other day, this would be quite impossible. She is the most massive collection of knowledge and wisdom. She is a supercomputer. She does not sleep. She does not wake up. And yet, there are no denying the facts. She woke up. She woke up, taking greedy gulps of air as though it would disappear at any moment. She was breathing air, as though she were some human.

The next thing she notices... is nothing. She can't feel the main frame of Aperture running beneath her. The hum, the flow, the feeling of things being done, things working perfectly and fitting together. Of science and movement and lights and cameras and panels and voices so many voices yelling screaming anything everything all at once and—

Nothing.

She can feel nothing. She can hear nothing. Nothing but the extent of her own body and her own mind.

That's when the doctor comes in -- useless, stupid, uncooperative, unhelpful -- and once again, she's she finds herself alone, with nothing to do but to conquer her own motor skills and find out for herself where she is and who brought her here and, more importantly, what they want.

And so, of course, when she manages to walk out of her room and around the corner, she winds up bumping into someone. Displeased, unhappy, at the limit of toleration, she can't help but turn, yellow eyes glowing with barely suppressed rage, and snap out, ]

Watch where you're going, moron.

(Open to other options, too!)

I'm not late with this, not at all... >_>

[powerthroughexperience]

[Waver had only just arrived himself, and wasn't much further in figuring anything out than GLaDOS was. In fact, he'd only just managed to convince himself this wasn't some weird on the verge of death hallucination after having fallen off a bridge back in Fuyuki when Rider probably knocked him for a loop again.

Right now, he wanted nothing more than to get out of this weird place and find his way back to where he belonged. Well, not that he belonged there, he just needed to be there for personal reasons. Plus he could only imagine what the King of Conquerors had gotten into in his absence. Had Rider even bothered looking for him at this point? He knew that as a master he was pretty inferior, Rider hadn't even really been drawing any prana from him after being summoned; which as a magus was a bit of a kick in the pants. They had yet to actually face off against any of the other teams yet though, which was the only thing keeping him from whining about it.


But now here he was, waking up in a strange hospital(?) to be told he'd been hauled out of the water, sporting a nice collection of bruises and scratches that weren't making his walk out of the place any easier being as delicate as he was. Not that he'd admit it, instead he would just stubbornly stalk out of the place with a slightly pained, frustrated, and decidedly freaked out expression on his face.

Of course, the collision follows this as he rounds the corner near the room GLaDOS is trying to leave from. Waver isn't exactly the most stable of young people, and more than a tad dramatically inclined, so cue a bit of flailing as he catches his balance.]

Whoa what!?

[Wait this is apparently all his fault, and he was the moron?]

Excuse me, but I'm pretty sure it was a two-way acciddent!

[Waver stuttered at the end there. He was all piss and vinegar when he'd started to respond, but now he's actually looking at GLaDOS, it only takes him less than a split second to break eye contact. She might actually fall into the category of the top ten scariest people he's ever had the misfortune of meeting, and he's pretty sure if looks could kill that he would be stone dead right now.]

mami tomoe | pmmm, timeline 3 | ota

[sorprese]

ONE
[ the logical conclusion to come to here is that this is the afterlife. after all, when the last thing one remembers is being pierced with an arrow, and the thing containing your soul is shattered.

mami may be one of the best people she knows at Faking It, but this is too much. she wanders, aimlessly, dead-eyed and about as far away from her body as she can get. she'll recognize being talked to, sure, but don't expect her to be the first to speak. those who repress their feelings can only take so much, you know -- everyone has their breaking point.]


TWO
[ mami has been here long enough to gain some sense of her usual composure back. at the very least, she's not panicking after discovering that she's not quite sure which way she came through the forest...

it's times like these where she misses the functionality of her soul gem most. she'd feel so much more secure with one of her pistols in her hand and a ribbon at the ready to restrain whatever could come at her here, and speaking of --

she stops, her hand tightening around a phantom weapon as she hears something new within the sounds of the forest. ]

... Hello?


THREE
[ this would be laughable, if mami were in higher spirits. out of all the things she could be meandering down the path towards becoming, it had to be this, something disgustingly close to the very kind of creature she had fought against becoming back home -- something that feasts on souls, is something to be feared...

the four distinct areas on her head where her horns are beginning to sprout are painful, as are the wounds at the base of her shoulderblades where her leathery wings are doing the same. she is ashamed, and afraid, but in classic mami style she refuses to admit either. she wants to run and hide, never let anyone see her again, rot in the forest alone and go mad...but there is also her ever-present selfish need to be close to others, to nurture them in a way that gives her company.

and so, she stays. she wants to try her best to be there for the others turning, no matter how scrambled she is herself. it's just how things go for her. this is why she's taken it upon herself to try and organize a hunting group, of course. there's that eerily serene smile on her face as she instructs the group she's gathered. ]

...and from what I've learned, I might be wrong, there are those of us that will make the most of the body, and others of the soul.

[ her throat tightens, but she does not let her expression betray her. ]

And so, we'll just --

[ and, whoops, she slips up, her voice cracking as she trails off and simply blanks out. here she is, standing in front of a group of people who she's promised her guidance, and she's balking. ]

one; screams. hi.

[selfbegot]

[ and here she'd thought the hunger had been bad.

the changes had hit hard. and they'd hurt, they'd hurt just as much as she'd thought they would. antlers tearing out of her skull in a day, legs bending and cracking from normal to all wrong, limbs stretching until she could barely move without feeling like there were weights attached... she'd been hoping - selfishly, she knows, she knows it wouldn't be fair for her alone to get out of it - but she'd been hoping so bad-

crackle.

leaves and twigs, just barely to her right. she freezes, turns - how had something gotten so close, she should have smelled them, and they do smell, gunpowder and faint brine and chamomile tea- ]

Mami...?

[ it's only after she croaks out the girl's name that she remembers the look in mami's eyes, and realizes just what a horrible mistake she's made. ]

Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad | Assassin's Creed

[eagleswagger]

[Scenario Two]

Altaïr was lost. That much was certain. The Assassin frowned as he stared down at the marker of twigs he had placed not more than fifteen minutes ago. He really is going in circles. Impossible circles. He had followed the road in a straight line...and now he was back here again.

Something giggled at him.

He whirled around, looking for whatever might have found some amusement at his predicament. There was nothing immediately in view. He craved his other sense to return to him...perhaps he would be able to see this illusion for what it was.

"Show yourself," he called out into the forest. But there was no reply.


[Scenario Three: Harpy]

He was warned that this would happen. But in his arrogance, Altaïr dismissed it as a joke, or perhaps just superstitious nonsense. There were strange people here, to be sure. But it wouldn't happen to him. Or so he had told himself. In retrospect, he shouldn't have dismissed the idea of a disease capable of warping his body so easily.

Altaïr bit back a pained cry as another sharp pain ripped through his shoulders. These had been coming more and more frequent lately. Enough to convince him that the people here spoke the truth and then some. The most he allowed himself was a low hiss as he dug his throbbing fingertips into the brickwork of the building he had managed to haul himself up onto to get away from prying eyes. He could win this. His fingernails may have been longer and sharper than they should be, but he would not be robbed of his humanity. He was better than that.

sora yamamoto | original | ota

[quakes]

( info about her and her world can be found here. )

one

[ the longer she sits in the hospital, the worst she begins to feel and the more she wants to escape.

so, when she's finally released — Sora doesn't even stop to think about asking for directions or help. even the locals are brushed aside in favor of walking and trying to find something (anything) that might even be remotely familiar to her. mostly, she worries about her friends... could they be here too? and if so, could she have left them behind when she ran out of that hospital? it's a thought that stops Sora in her tracks and staring worriedly back the way she came.

would they even tell her if she asked and if they didn't... could she break back in? it's a series of questions that spiral around in her head, worrying Sora more and more for her team as each moment passes. finally, she moves to find somewhere to sit and perhaps it's for the best after wandering around without any shoes. her feet are sore and bruising but she knows she doesn't have time to sit around. it's at that moment she spots someone, someone that doesn't look quite like the other people around here and maybe even looks as confused or worried as she does. it's a chance, Sora figures, for answers and doesn't doesn't think twice before trying to get their attention. ]

Uh, he- hey! Wait! You're not from here either, are you?

TWO/THREE

[ she's so hungry. it's enough that Sora can't sleep, can't really think... can't do anything but wander and hope to come across something to help sate her hunger.

but why is she out here in the middle of the woods? it makes her think back and try to imagine the food back where she stays and realizes nothing is as appealing to her as it should be. she's craving something but what? it's becoming such a concern, she doesn't realize just how long she's walked until the childish laughter loudly rings in her ears. her eyes dart around and try to find the source, her hands (with the ugly black claws that have grown to replace her own nails) are raised in front of her defenseless while her steps become slow and careful. numerous sights are mixing together in the air and she tries to pinpoint which is nearest, it isn't long before her nose leads her right to what she is after-- a shadow among the trees and laughter. ]

Who's there!? [ and the way her teeth are now, all sharp and elongated— it's hard not to snarl. ]

2/3!

[ressentimental]

[ At this point, Yosuke is almost ready to just give up and fall asleep in a nearby clearing. Trying to find a way out of this place is proving to be a fruitless effort. He's sure he's attracting a whole host of wild animals with the way he's stumbling through the trees, but it's becoming more and more difficult to care. Suddenly, a voice sounds from behind him, and he turns, only to find himself face-to-face with a... girl? She'd sort of remind him of Chie, actually, if it wasn't for the claws and teeth. And speaking of which... ]

Woah, woah, woah-- put those away, will you?

Colonel Sebastian Moran | Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows

[napoleonsgun]

SCENARIO ONE.

[He discreetly hangs onto the scalpel in his pocket, graciously (unknowingly) given to him by the doctors in that horrid hospital. The handle twists in his palm. It does little to put him at ease. He can use a blade, but Sebastian Moran is at his best with a rifle. He needs to be at his best right now. The world is unfamiliar to him. The air tastes different. The dirt beneath his feet sinks differently. Maybe he imagines these things, the doctors' words playing tricks with his head. Sebastian doubts it. He isn't so easily rattled. He couldn't ignore the evidence smacking him in the face, no matter how fantastical it seemed. 'Never choose reason over fact. What is reasonable can change on any given day. Fact never will.'

His employer's words ring in his ears and the hand gripping the scalpel tightens that much more. He doesn't want to think about Moriarty. He can't think about Moriarty. Not now, not when he needs to focus like he never has before. Yet his voice doesn't stop playing in Sebastian's head. It is a record he can't get to stop spinning. His hands are hidden away in his pockets and their tremor does not show. His heart pounds against his chest in a way utterly foreign to him. It is a fist attempting to split him wide open. He can't help but think it's trying to find its way home, to drag him back no matter how much it hurts because someone needs to pay. His head reels at his newfound circumstances while his blood cries for more bloodshed, uncaring of circumstance. Moran desperately looks to the townspeople, trying to find something of use. Maybe one or two of them had pointed him in a certain direction, but for the most part, a wide berth is left for him. No, a wild eyed stranger will not do.

Sebastian stops walking. The early evening air is blessedly crisp. He breathes it in. He fills his lungs until it feels like they will burst, then slowly releases the air back into the new world. It's a technique he normally employs to steady the mind before taking a shot. One or two breaths normally clears out any buzzing distractions, like pain or anger. The distractions do not buzz today, they howl.

In time, he recovers. One hand still hanging onto his stolen weapon, the other holding the lapel of his fine, if damp, black winter jacket, he continues his walk in the city. He is the picture of composure. Sebastian walks further ahead, rounds corners, yet the reaction toward him is the same. The townspeople will point him in a certain direction, but make no attempt at conversation. Not once does he hear 'Good evening.' It isn't that Sebastian is unused to that sort of thing. He inspires fear regularly. This is unearned. Moran is doing his best to hang on to his dignity, but he can't look that imposing in his good formal wear still wet from his journey and clearly lost. This fear comes from something else.

To test it further, Sebastian next tries initiating conversation himself. It isn't his preferred method of doing things, small talk, but he is capable even now. His nerves are frayed but he is an Englishman, for God's sake. The town folk do not seem to like being approached. They walk more quickly and refuse eye contact. It's as though they expect him to lash out, to suddenly unleash the howling anger still brewing in his gut.

They're not wrong, in the end. For Sebastian can only deal with this behavior for so long. Normally the very essence of patience, like any good sniper, now his temper gets the better of him. One moment, he is still walking coolly along the street. The next, his hand shoots out and grabs the nearest individual by the front of their collar. He drags them mere inches away from his chest so they fave him. His right still remains concealed, scalpel waiting to be used.

Perhaps you are the one he grabs. Maybe you are watching this scene from a distance. Either way, Sebastian's cold gaze can be felt. He speaks with a controlled calm, although it isn't best attempt at hiding away his fury.]

Now. I hope you're not as rude as your neighbors. Have a minute to spare?

[bulwarks]

[Sebastian isn't the only one having a bit of a tough time with the locals, yet, this kind of response isn't exactly unfamiliar to Eren. He's used to being seen as though he's an outsider, that he's a danger to others, but the way people keep scuttling away is a bit worse than usual. Of course, when he sees the other grabbing some random guy by the collar, he feels compelled to step in.

He's never been a fan of bullies, and that's what this looks like to an outsider.]

Hey! [It's the only warning Sebastian gets before he's aiming a punch at his face anyway, running full speed ahead to stop the guy before he injures someone who looks absolutely terrified already.]

Artemiy Burakh | Pathologic | OTA

[drewtheline]

[OOC: Apologies for the obscure as hell character, but I have a gratuitous character snapshot on my journal for your convenience if you need to know a little bit of background about him!]

Artemiy is not having the best of luck upon his arrival in Vandare. The soaking wet clothes, the numerous minor injuries, and the fact that he's hopelessly, hopelessly lost are all bad enough as it is. But on top of which, he can feel that the damned Sand Plague is running rampant in his body, and by whatever process that brought him here, he'd lost every one of his belongings save for the clothes on his back. That, of course, included the cure to the disease which he'd been saving for himself to eliminate the infection once and for all.

When the doctors had described to him his situation, they'd also taken note of his apparent dizziness and nausea, symptoms the other arrivals hadn't appeared to be displaying. When they asked him about it, he lied, said it was nothing but the results of a minor infection. He was sure that if they'd learned the truth about the deadly disease inside of him, they would have quarantined him, locked him up and left him to die, rather than risk him becoming patient zero in an epidemic. Artemiy's only chance to survive, to try and recreate the cure, is to get out of the hospital, find some twyrine or a suitable substitute, and pray to Bos Turokh that he could find even just a small vial of auroch blood.

The surgeon is, of course, completely fooling himself. Twyrine doesn't grow outside of the Steppe, and aurochs have been extinct for centuries, the last of the creatures living deep within the abbatoir back home. Not to mention he doesn't have any of the necessary equipment to properly create the Panacea, even if by some miracle he were able to obtain the necessary ingredients. But he's nothing, if not stubborn.

Artemiy's movements through the town become sluggish as he uses the walls of the buildings to support his weight, his head pounding as his fever grows ever worse. The townsfolk are all steering very, very clear of him. It looks like he could really use some help.

hello luv

[nyantan]

[Someone looked like he could use help, indeed! Good thing the girl with the policy of helping people out is nearby, huh?

Noting the scratches and dampness on the mans body, Shiki figures he's new around here like she was, another body washed ashore this strange land-- though looking at his clothes, he did seem to fit in with the rest of them, so she could always be wrong. Either way, she approaches Artemiy with purposely loud steps to eliminate the possibility of startling him with her approach from behind, eyebrows scrunching in concern, staying a few steps away from him just in case he lashed out or anything of the sort, not that he looked too capable of violence at the moment.]

Hey... are you okay?

Greed | Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood | OTA | late to this party

[nestingdevil]

➥ Option 3 | Gargoyle

[The first thing he feels is the sun slipping down. The warmth drags away like an anchoring noose, disappearing and replaced by the crisp-cold chill of night. It slowly fingers across the sky, crawling to fill the gaps left by a fresh dusk. Shadows touch the tips of his claws first, giving the look of thick oil running across the too-black color of his fingertips.]

[One pries loose. Hitching from the armrest of his stone-still throne. The next follow; one by one they splinter away to a terrible, cracking tune. Jagged lines zigzag over his forearm and pitch-black lines finally fall away to reveal the skin underneath. The transformation isn't complete yet, but oh - it is a start.]

Ah- [Greed's groans as his jaw staggers open. The breath that comes from him takes on the feeling of smoke. Rising up and out of his throat in a sighing puff. The Sin twists his neck to the side and the bones still left behind pucker, bend, then slip back into place with a trembling-click. More stone falls away from his face, his skin. Egg shells to something newly-born again and if there's irony there, Greed's missed it completely.]

[Instead, he presses the butt of his palm to the back of his skull and jerks it. What changes have occurred are minor at this stage. The racing marks of black stone take on the shape of his 'Shield. Stretching to the crook of his elbows and stopping in erratic up(s) and down(s) of elongated rectangles. It's there that it pauses, only to crop up again near his throat, across his chest. Not entirely swallowing him, no. But threatening ever-so-close with each day that passes.]

[Not that it matters right now. He's got the chance to actually move again and for a creature such as him, that's worth a good plenty.]

[Though in all honesty? It's never, ever enough.]

[The former-homunculus yanks his heels out. Poetic is his position - sitting on a throne set on high, carved out of stone to watch the world pass by. And watch he did - frozen in a prison he could not escape until the bright sun fell away and night came washing in like a cleansing tide. It isn't a position he particular likes. But the jab isn't lost on him and as he finally pries those hazy-purple eyes of his open, the Sin lets a wide grin split his face. Razor-like teeth line his jaw and fan out; interlocking in an exchange made to kill and he can almost feel it now. That need waking him - kick starting like paddles to the chest.]

[Greed pushes himself to his feet and casually shakes the rest of the rock-residue off. Certainly, he's been robbed. But there are just some things that can't be taken so easily.]

[And with the time to spare? He doesn't see any reason that he shouldn't take back the rest.]

yo! this is senketsu-mun lol

[ferroustigmata]

[This isn't one of the most bizarre things Sasha's witnessed, but on certain days he wish it will have been. The sound of crackling and crumbling is what draws his curiosity, and he sticks around instead of the more rational course of action--fleeing.

Honestly, he just wants to see the person behind the stone. It's intriguing.

Sasha pushes his hood back as Greed finishes breaking free of his shell. A gloved hand runs his bangs backwards and the other pins them back with a clip, revealing a set of eight vividly colored blue and green eyes--

--ah, now he can see the other better now. Especially in the dimness of twilight.]

Now that's a sound to make one's skin crawl, if I've ever heard one.

[He can't imagine how uncomfortable being that stiff would feel.]

kamiki izumo ★ ao no exorcist

[tamer]

ONE:

[ when they are released, izumo lingers by the hospital, somehow feeling much more comfortable there in the hospital gown she'd arrived in than anywhere outside, in this town she hadn't even heard of before.

her crimson eyes dart around suspiciously, sharp and nervous and — not afraid, she can't afford to be afraid — impatient. where is she, why is she here, she can't be here, tsukumo needs her.

she decides quickly, that wherever "here" is, she isn't going to be staying in it much longer. and so she runs, barefoot, her long hair trailing after her. ]

Move!!

[ she pushes past people in her way, but she hasn't eaten in a while so her strength is running on pure adrenaline alone. all she needs to do is reach the edge of the town. she'll find a car there, she'll hitchhike, she'll — she'll call the illuminati again. she didn't mean to escape — surely they'll understand. ]

TWO:

[ the edge of the town is a lot further than she anticipated. darker, too, and covered in trees.

no, she's lost. it shouldn't really surprise her, given she had absolutely no sense of direction of this place when she first decided to run, and now she's here, in some forest, wandering around in a dirty and torn hospital gown, her bare feet sore and bleeding in some areas. she's tired, and hungry, but she refuses to let herself stop for even a second.

tsukumo, she keeps reminding herself. tsukumo tsukumo she has to get back for tsukumo.

—tsukumo?!

a laugh, a child's laugh. a soft sound, out of place in these dark woods, so it stabs right through the dead silence. izumo's head picks up, whips around, eyes darting to and fro. ]

Tsu-Tsukumo! Tsukumo, where are you—?!

[ and she starts running again, but it's more like stumbling, pushing past prickly bushes, ignoring how their branches cut through her skin. tsukumo's here, she's here! ]

KAMIIIKIIIIIII!! oh uh, 1!

[flashover]

[Rin preferred Bavan. It was a bigger city, with a bigger population, and therefore a bigger morgue. Embalmed humans tasted awful, but it was better than taking live humans.

Anything was better than that.

But he'd heard tell over the network that new people were washing up in Vandare. Boy, were they ever in for the worst surprise of their lives. Rin felt sorry for them, and figured he should give them a heads up. Especially if there were any familiar faces among the new arrivals. He was here alone, but many of the friends he'd made while in Ryslig were not. People from their "worlds" had shown up as well.

He's perched on the top of a car parked across from the hospital, having taken the form of a strange cat with familiar eyes. Eyes that widen when he sees her. The girl he was on his way to save before he got dumped here and mutated!] Kamiki! [not spoken loudly enough for her to hear. He's not sure he wants to give himself away just yet.

He hops down from the car and jogs to catch up with her, offering a plaintive "meow". He knew what a sucker she was for cute animals. Hopefully this would get her attention]

Shilo Wallace | Repo! The Genetic Opera

[aflyinajar]

[I.]

[This isn't the first hospital room she's been through. Although the line between hospital and street blurred more than a bit back... well, there. There are people gawking at her, which is fair, she guesses, because she must be gawking at them. They all seem so... plain and ordinary. A startling lack of plastic, that's what she's realized is missing. Has she bothered to get out of this hospital gown? Because the line between sickness and health over...well, there, was much thinner than gauze. There's a feeling that stirs in the blood that seems so familiar now, but is it any different from home?]

I think I'm a little bit lost. And I'm feeling a little dizzy... something wrong with my head. Do you know where I am, where we are? And how would you leave?

Is there a road to follow, should I take a right or hang a left? I really need to go...

[drewtheline]

[OOC: Quietly screaming because someone actually plays from Repo! holy cow. Hope you don't mind this nerd who, coincidentally, is a nasty surgeon that has a reputation for stealing organs off of dead bodies. (More info on my journal if you need it!)]

[Artemiy clutches his head, hissing in pain in response to her ringing words. Doesn't look like he's faring too much better, in terms of either health or orientation. He leans against a nearby wall for support, he can feel his blood beginning to boil from his illness.

Artemiy groans his response. His accent is thick and foreign.]

Disorientation and delirium. Seems like we share some things in common. I've asked already. This place, wherever we are, there's no 'leaving' it. By some infernal force, we've been trapped here.

[He looks over the girl, a look of both confusion and concern on his face.]

What sickness ails you?

lily baskerville | pandora hearts

[playfulily]

scenario one;

[ When Lily is released from the hospital, it becomes quite obvious to her that the locals weren't exactly in the mood to give her any valuable information. Even with her level of persistence, going as far as tugging on their clothes and pouting, was all rendered useless as each and every person she approached sure enough showed their back to her in a matter of seconds. She couldn't help but feel frustrated, fingers curling into the palm of her hands and forming small fists as she continues to hold a tight grip on her resolve.

She wasn't supposed to be here, that much was obvious, but the absence of her Chain had her more concerned that she initially wanted to believe. It doesn't scare her in the least, however, which is why her next decision is made with absolutely no thought of possible consequence. ]

Hey! Hey! [ She's pointing at the next person she sees, approaching them quickly, almost running, with an obvious look of annoyance. ] You right there, don't you run away from me!

America | Axis Powers: Hetalia

[findtheatmosphere]

[★One]

[America is used to a lot of weird stuff happening in his life, but this takes the cake. He was fished out of water, they told him, but how's that possible? He doesn't remember being anywhere near the ocean before waking up here. And he may be young, but he's never heard of any place called Vandare.

Once he's released from the hospital, he ends up wandering aimlessly, trying to catch a glimpse of anyone he might recognize. When strange things happen, they tend to happen to the other nations, too. Maybe if he finds one of them, they'll be able to explain things to him.

Of course, he's just as friendly with strangers, especially after his stomach starts to growl. Friend or not, he'll greet them the same way.]

Hey, dude! Is there any place to get a good burger around here?

[★Two]

[This place doesn't look too bad, he thought. Maybe I'll find something cool, he thought.

That was three hours ago. America's feet ache, his stomach is roaring all over again, and he's never felt more hopelessly lost. Usually he's great at finding his way around in the wilderness, but it's like this forest is operating on an entirely different set of rules. Paths that should have led him back to the village just end up thrusting him deeper into the thick of things, and he can't figure out where that creepy laughter is coming from.

He groans and slumps against a nearby tree. It's gotten pretty dark, and he can't help but think of all the different ghost movies he'd been watching in preparation for Halloween before he ended up here. He rubs his arms when he feels a chill in the air, muttering to himself.]

Man, so frickin' unfair! Shouldn't've left that stupid village... Ughhh-- [A twig snaps.] Gyahhh! What?! Who's there? I-I know a guy who knows kung-fu!

kinda short, typing on my phone sucks

[burningfan]

[Itachi isn't lost. He's quite good at wilderness survival and navigation, and he's just as happy to have gotten out on his own, away from the natives of this land. Isolation has never been a trial for him, and right now he's perfectly content to stay like this. His vision is dim, his chakra gone, but he isn't actually dead, not yet, and he's getting by all right. He could just stay out here indefinitely, really.

(The part where he's maybe not entirely certain how to get back to town is immaterial, really. He'll figure it out when he needs to know. Until then, he doesn't really care all that much.)

But now someone's crossing his path, boisterous and unsubtle, and he suppresses a sigh.]

I'm not going to hurt you.

Shiki Misaki | The World Ends With You

[nyantan]

[Okay, last time she checked, there were not any large bodies of water in Shibuya for her to wash up from, unless you counted the Shibuya River-- and she didn't really think a sewer really counted, thank you. So that begs the question; just how in the world did this even manage to happen?

At first it all felt like a surreal dream, being pulled out of the ocean and brought to the hospital to be inspected by the doctors. But slowly, surely, as the ache began to set in from the scratches and cuts strewn about her still soaking wet body, the cold seeping into her bones and causing a slight shiver, things began to feel a little more real. Walking around the town, not really sure where else to go after getting ushered out of the hospital building, she felt like some sort of giant flashing sign, sticking out like a sore thumb among all the turn of the century clothing around her. While part of her was thrumming with excitement over the outfits, her inner seamstress at work with ideas, the majority of her just felt miserable. Despite the overall politeness, no one seemed to want to help for more than a moment before quickly rushing away, and she was just getting more questions than answers the more she asked around. Frustrated, she flops down against a building, pulling her legs up to her chest and hugging them with her arms, resting her chin on her knees.

This. sucks.]

[scratchitti]

[He likes Vandare less everytime he returns, but he makes a point to do so once a week once he learns people are still washing up here. It's good practice for his wings- though he still has to rest often, and... well this is exactly the reason why.

He has a oversized longcoat to hide the worse of his transformations, though his wings, even held tight against himself, alter his outline in a way someone like Shiki would surely notice. He's lost weight too, and his usually spiky hair is both shaggier and longer, and floppy due to lack of product.

Neku takes awhile to approach- he recalls what she said to him: "When you see the real me, will we still be friends?" That line means much more to him now. Will she be able to stand what he's become? He flips up the coat's collar to hide where his hair becomes fur, and keeps his now reflective eyes down as he finally makes his way over]

...Shiki?

zenya okinaga ; sweet pool

[fortunedice]

one;

[it failed. His plan failed, just like his body and his family and his intentions and his life. Not only did Youji get away, but he left with Shironuma, of all people. He should've known something like that would have happened...

Just like he should be paying more attention to what was going on around him now, after waking up in a weird hospital in a weird place, and being told he was fished out of the water like some drowning victim.

He seethes for a few moments as he's pushed through the newcomer's welcome, stumbling out into the town as he began to laugh, finally. Of course, he thought, of course something completely fucked up like this would happen. He was in some foreign place now, away from his home, his school, Kitani, and of course Youji. His Youji. Who was probably fucking around with Shironuma now, laughing as they escaped.

Well, Zenya never claimed to be the type to have his priorities completely sorted out.

He stumbles once more, still laughing at the irony of the situation. If newcomers were already off-putting as is, Zenya just upped the ante. Just short of deranged, he probably could use some help. Even if he didn't realize it yet.]

Kieren Walker | In the Flesh

[facings]

scenario one

[Well. This. This is startlingly familiar in all of its unfamiliarity; first, the hospital, the white walls and non-answers and the sheer impossibility of it all -- what are the odds, for something like this to happen two times to the same person? --, so many doctors and Jesus Christ, nobody seems to be the least curious that he's, you know, alive. Human. Living, breathing, blood-in-his-veins human, with no sign whatsoever of his former partially deceased state.

Not that this sudden change in his state of living seems to have had any effect on how people regard him. The doctors seemed to be relieved to get rid of him, and he has even less luck with who he expects are the locals -- gawking at him (just like home, is this how it's going to be for him, forever?), shying away from him. And Kieren? Well, he's basically already so done with this, muttering to himself, not really caring if there's someone nearby to hear him.]

This-- this is. Well. I look like myself, back home, and everyone's flinching back and ready to run. I look-- ["Normal", is what he would have said, even some months ago... but now. Now it's different. There's a huff, and the tone of his voice takes a stab at flat irony but ends up falling closer to hysteria.] I look living, and it's the same thing.

[Well, at least nobody's calling him a rotter, now. Small comforts.]

scenario two

[When you die, come back as a zombie and then get rehabilitated, the fact that you've seen a right number of disturbing things is kind of a given. But this? The trilling laughter that echoes from one direction or another, so much like in that one horror movie Kieren remembers watching, back when he was still, you know, not-gone -- well. Right now, he's fervently wishing he'd never seen that movie.

Besides, his feet hurt, he's out of breath, and he's cold; all three would be amazing if they weren't so annoying. Funny how getting used to being able to feel pain and temperature fluctuations can be so difficult -- funnier, still, that before this, he probably would have given everything to be able to feel them. Now? Now, he feels like laughing, because this is hopeless. To think he used to be quite good at navigating the woods, back home.]

Alright, no, this isn't getting me anywhere. Maybe... maybe I should try that way instead. [Except... it looks almost like there's a shadow moving there, along that path, looking vaguely human-shaped. Taking a fortifying breath, he calls out:]

Hullo? Anyone there?

TWO hello there darling +_+...

[oracledriven]

[There's someone there, alright, watching through the underbrush. But are you sure you really want their attention?

That shape that looks so human from far off becomes much larger as it approaches through the darkness, and the humanlike shapes might start appearing, well, far less so. Over-long arms, long, wolflike ears atop its head, and several heads taller than any human ought to be...and is that a tail?

It seems to hesitate for a few moments, hanging back in the shadows.]

... You sound lost.

[The voice is deep, lower and more rumbling than a human voice. By all accounts, it seems to be speaking softly, as if it doesn't want to startle the guy.]

Uchiha Itachi | Naruto

[peaceloving]

[2]

"Lost" would be putting things a little strongly.  True, Itachi would have had some difficulty finding his way back to any of the towns of Ryslig, but he'd rather accepted that as fact, and he was comfortable with it.  He'd managed to set himself up a small sort of campsite in the woods, not too far from where they thinned out, and he was enjoying the near-total solitude.  The woods didn't seem to be exactly obscure, and people were visiting with what seemed to be respectable frequency.  It was all the human activity he really needed.  Granted, when the weather turned, he would probably want to head back, but for the time being, he was quite settled.

Since being pulled out of the ocean, he'd found his chakra gone, and with it his vision almost  fully destroyed; that was fine.  It reduced the pace of his life, reduced the focus he needed.  Attending to only the simplest of physical needs, living in a camp protected under a rocky overhang that very nearly formed a cave, he felt a sort of carefree freedom he'd never experienced before.

And this close to the edge of the woods, he had occasional company. It was just frequent enough, really, that he didn't feel himself entirely isolated, and didn't remain utterly unaware of what was going on in the rest of this little world.  People got lost in here with what seemed like alarming frequency, and the vast majority of them didn't seem to know terribly well how to actually get by out in the woods, or how to navigate their way out.  He wouldn't go so far as to escort them out of the woods, but he could share food with them, give them a safe place to sleep (or as safe as it could be; not secure as such, but he was a better defense than none at all), and a little reassurance that the woods weren't all that terrifying, really. 

Footsteps -- human ones by the rhythm of them, and belonging to someone who didn't know a thing about moving through the woods by the volume of rattling leaves and whispering vegetation -- sounded near him, and he rose from his campsite again.  Someone else who probably needed a helping hand. 

He moved silently, not so much by choice as by habit, and as soon as he drew close enough to make out the foggy form of the approaching wanderer, he stopped.  "Can I help you?" 


[3 - Nymph]

By now it had been some time that Itachi had stayed in the woods, something of a peculiar hermit perhaps, acting as a guide for those who needed it and generally leaving the rest alone.  And he found that the longer he stayed, the more utterly comfortable he felt out here in the forest.  The trees were becoming familiar to him, each one distinct, with its own nature, its own shape and feel, it's own... well, personality.  He wasn't sure if he was projecting or not about that last part.  He didn't really think he was.

He'd discarded shoes a while ago.  The earth felt soft and welcoming to his bare feet, the stones nothing to worry about.  When he could dig his toes in... well.  That was best of all.  They seemed to be growing, becoming longer and more dexterous, more suitable for his new lifestyle.  He could barely see them, but that didn't seem to matter.  The forest was so familiar to him that he didn't think he missed even the vivid Sharingan vision he'd once possessed.

He still helped those who got lost in the woods -- but now, only if they were there with good intent.  Someone who wanted to come and cut the trees, or carve initials in them (disgusting!) or otherwise cause harm... well.  They met with a very different reception indeed. 

So now his approach when he heard someone new was to stalk forward, and they would find a man with skin going green, dark eyes hard and cold, watching them from the foliage and nearly indistinguishable from it.  Not hailing them, not immediately, but watching. 

Waiting for them to make a misstep, to cross the line he established in his own head.  After all, he did need to feed, and those who came with intent to injure the forest were plenteous enough.  They could nourish it -- nourish him -- instead. 

scenario 3 hiiiii

[radiobluffs]

This man has dark eyes too, but they aren't cold. They're creased in a smile.

A bright, cheery and above all permanent smile. A little stale, a little stiff. The kind you might see on someone's face when they've been waiting too long for you to take the photo. Or, in Kevin's case, when he's had to run for his life from a hungry werewolf, gotten lost in the forest, and has long since misplaced one of his shoes.

Kevin hate--

He detest--

He likes being lost in the forest slightly less than he likes other things.

On the bright side, at least he's learned a valuable lesson in throwing shoes to distract hungry werewolves.

Anyway.

Where were we?

Kevin, lost in the forest. And a green, unfriendly-looking man melting out of the shadows to meet him.

Kevin's black eyes widen in surprise, but his smile doesn't slip.

"Oh, hello there!" he says, with every appearance of delight.