graveyardsmash | TEST DRIVE MEME

TEST DRIVE MEME

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.

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If you're talking about that old hag, Lust - well, sure. But you should know by now that I've never seen eye to eye with the rest. [Greed's got his scotch to his lip and he takes a moment just to smell it. Strong, noxious. It's just like he remembers, but different all the same. He takes a sip at first, letting the sting of it bite down his throat. With all the changes this world has made, disease or otherwise, this is one of the newest things. Sure, he could feel it before. But it never got further than that.]

[He swallows more, almost hungrily. As if he's parched; as if he's been dying for the drink for centuries. The ice snaps to shards in his teeth and Greed's eyes sag half-hooded beneath his sunglasses. It's not the best, but it's good nonetheless. A sound boils in his throat when it bobs and for a second, his knuckles turn white. His nails bite in.]

[It's never nice to tempt the tempter. But he's also never been one to deny himself what he wants.]

[The glass is half-empty by the time he comes up for air.] No - [Greed sets his portion down with a resounding thud.] - wrong again. The others got him when he was in Dublith. [Sweat streaks lines at his nails, dripping into the shelled-out curves.] Just who the fuck have you been talking to?

[His face, though - it doesn't change. Still playing the Cheshire for his best grin, Greed rolls his body back into the booth. His fingers drum on the edge.] For someone who thinks they know me, you sure have a lot of things wrong. Though, you still know more than most. You might just be remembering something else entirely, Kimbley. After all -

[Again, his index goes skyward. His lips smack, his foot bounces. Picking up a rhythm from somewhere.] - there's no such thing as no such thing.

[Lust? It makes sense that there is a Lust, but that's a name that Greed never mentioned. "Envy" and "Pride" were the ones to get Greed's wrath directed at them. With a name like "Greed", Kimbley had assumed there were seven, but he only really knew about the three.]

I think her name is Dante?

[He shrugs. Greed had mentioned it in passing and Kimbley had chosen not to question it.]

She was human as far as I could tell.

[But at that, he pauses, staring carefully at Greed, not quite giving a disbelieving look because Greed doesn't lie, but this is adding to the list of a growing number of things that just don't add up.]

That old lady lived just outside of Dublith. Secluded and alone. Alchemists are so paranoid, you know.

[He practically drawls it, watching with eyes that are far too menacing for a man up against someone far stronger than him.]

With all this talk of other worlds, of people coming from places I've never heard of, who can say? It might explain the holes in your memory.

Or in yours. [He not-so-politely interjects. Dante, a woman alchemist living near Dublith. The one one the comes to mind is the housewife. The one who confronted him head on without even a glimmer of hesitation; her name hadn't been Dante and she sure wasn't the type to hole herself away. If he had smiling before, it sure grows now. The woman had been something else entirely.]

[But everything Kimbley has to say means nothing. No flicker of response, no recollection. Greed taps his knuckles to the side of his drink and pats his vest down a few times.] There wasn't anyone like that living outside Dublith. And the alchemists I know aren't really the types to hold back.

[He finds what he's looking for in due time. Only a few are left, but the Sin removes a bent-back cigarette butt. He presses the tip to undo the kinks and casually slips a talon into the mouth of an open-candle flame. The motion makes the wick spit and sputter; as hot wax pools to the side and swipes the edge in an ivory hue.] There's always a possibility. Can't really deny that, hmn?

[The smoke finds the edge of his jaws and Greed bows into the flame. The fire makes red lines where the pitch-black fingers end and his skin begins. Giving the look of his usual electrical current, but it's not there. Just an illusion and when he releases the candle, it trembles away. Taking the fire-lit light with it.] But another Dublith - [Kimbley had already mentioned that not many survived. But some did; he did. Which meant - ]

[The tip of the cigarette suddenly springs to life, ushering a cherry as bright as newly-stoked coals. Smoke pours from his mouth, gliding over the cuts of his teeth ever-so-slowly.] - you survived. What about the rest of them?

[Because if this world could bring him back, then the possibilities were endless. Greed clenches his mouth with sneer and his upper lip pulls up a tad.]

[It's the final question he's got. If Kimbley answered incorrect then the deal was all off.]

Or in mine.

[Kimbley isn't an easy man to offend, and this isn't one of those times he'll get offended. It's an agreement, because they're talking through these slight differences. It's still recognizably the same place, but the differences are there and are noticeable.

There are probably more, just waiting to be found and Kimbley would be lying if he said he didn't want to exploit them.]

Oh, I'm sure she had her reasons for being secretive.

[If she was who he thought she was, Greed showing up on her doorstop uninvited was only going to go one of two ways, and considering the fact that Greed had died shortly after Kimley had left the Nest, well, he was pretty sure he knew how Greed had met his end.]

Martel survived. I don't know about the others.

[It hadn't exactly been his intention to get all of them killed. That was Archer's doing, not his. He hadn't exactly seen their fates, anyway.

For the sake of the situation not getting ugly, he'll refrain from mentioning he only knows she survived because she threatened him with a knife and called him a traitor when she suddenly appeared on the military base.]

[Greed taps the cigarette into the open mouth of the candle and thick wads of ash fall in in clumps. His talons temporarily sink into the couch and gauge it, leaving behind pin-prick holes and light lines. Martel surviving - he knows that didn't happen. He hadn't seen it, but he's all too aware of how the story goes. Skewed alive, trapped inside that metal tin-box that had once been such a fixation.]

[He doesn't notice the snarl this time. The monster he is, the monster he's become: it wants vengeance and he wants revenge. That payment never did come at the end of it all; Wrath dying the way he did, with a pleasantness that left a bitterness on his tongue. But before it goes on too long, Greed wipes away the expression with a sly shrug.]

[Then it's back to usual pleasantries.] I'm sure. [The Sin peels his tight grip from the booth and slowly cleans his nails of the leftover shards. That's a secret he'll keep to himself; a sour point. This alchemist, be it Kimbley or not, doesn't need to know the details.] Glad to hear she's all right. Never was one to give up so easily.

[Obviously, Greed liked her. Still does. If she's out there somewhere, it's a light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe. The stories were still too conflicting to be certain.]

[Instead, he goes to finish his scotch and on round two, he doesn't break for pause. It all goes down, dribbling from his lip to leave streaking lines across his chin. Greed thumbs the leftovers and they catch perfectly in the dip of his claw. He sucks it dry, then tosses the glass onto the table. It slides with the growing sweat and bumps Kimbley's chaste gin and tonic with a subtle click.]

You said you worked for me - what changed? [It's the question he's been meaning to ask and the answers are numerous: dying, something else coming into play. The homunculus chortles at the back of his throat and lifts his head up to catch a glance from the under-swoop of his shades.] You never did explain that.

[Martel is definitely alive, at least she was when Kimbley last saw her. Alive, and in better shape than him. It was humiliating because the alchemist didn't use to lose fights, let alone with someone so much younger than him.

Who could say how much longer, though, if she was going to be attack more military. Well, he'd be lying if he said he cared so he isn't going to be making a habit of talking about her.]

What changed? I got a better offer, that's all. Nothing personal.

[It's stupid of him to admit, it's something he would have avoided in the past, but ten years to completely lose his tolerance? The stuff's already working on him, making him slouch back lazily and he's only drunk half a glass.]

Not from anyone you know, either.

[Around them, the bar is a soft murmur. Other people chatting, exchanging stories. Whispering between one another in a dull base line that's hard to decipher; where it's difficult to note where one conversation begins and the other ends. Greed doesn't move, doesn't budge. Kimbley's confession only makes his expression rise and his eyebrows make ripples of his forehead.] Always thought I was pretty fair - must have been a pretty good deal.

[It doesn't settle well, though. His were loyal even up until the end. Greed had watched them all go down one by one. For someone to turn their back on him - ]

[The Sin tosses his hand up, flipping it open as his wrist slowly churns in the other direction. The bouncing of his heel slows and he merely presses it to the post holding the table together.] Nothing personal, huh? Somehow, I doubt that. [But he doesn't know. Heads, tails - the whole situation is merely drawing blanks.]

[If there's any indication of his suspicion, he doesn't express it. That smile of his still holds fast. Pressed together in a line that makes arrows at the corners. Greed trails his hand around the second glass of scotch and idly side-glances the rest of the bar.] Considering your story, I wouldn't doubt it. You and I just remember things differently, friend. [Kimbley's name is dropped and maybe, just maybe, there's a metaphor there. Something to read between the lines:]

["You drop me and I'll do you the favor."] So - what is it you really want? [His teeth shine out, his eyes hood, and suddenly Greed's too close. He slithers from his perch, pushing himself into Kimbley's space without a care in the world. His torso hovers off the table, the candle ignites in his sunglasses. Touching cool-silver frames with a sinister orange. It's molten, hot.] Obviously, you weren't too worried about leaving before.

So why are you so interested now?

[Kimbley shrugs, languid. Like he isn't bothered by Greed's beginning to put the pieces together. Even if they can't really predict one another, Kimbley can't bring himself to care. It's partially the alcohol, partially his general philosophy.]

I found someone who could give me something you couldn't. And I've never been one for a quiet exit.

[Greed is close, now, and Kimbley still doesn't look particularly threatened, though he's tensing despite himself. His hands move to his lap, and he makes a concerted effort not to ball them into fists.

He tries to lean back in a way to put more space between him and Greed, but the motion is obvious and far from the usual fluidity he usually exhibits.]

Haven't met anyone else I recognized here. Call it nostalgia.

[His tone is remarkably calm, all things considered, but there's an edge to it that makes it clear he's wary once again.]

[Ouch. His mouth presses together, his glance sinks, and the Chesire-cat smile whirls across his jawline. It's a first, he'll admit: "I found someone who could give me something you couldn't." The Sin plants his tailbone back and tosses a languid look to match Kimbley's own. He's usually so good with his deals, but it's not like he hasn't been denied before.] That's a shame. [The former homunculus throws his cigarette back into his mouth and inhales on it sharply. The tip burns bright and dulls out to a soft glow when he exhales.]

[But never one for a quiet exit - he's got to wonder what that really means. Not now, though. Obviously whatever sort of connection he and the alchemist had in this twisted sort of reality, it had ended abruptly. And Greed very much doubts it was all that mutual.]

[He couldn't be that different; it's just not in his nature.] Just that, huh? Well, I'm not the one you worked for. Seems a bit of a waste. [It's a brush off. He really doesn't want to go down that road if he doesn't have to. It wouldn't end well and the mess afterward just wouldn't be worth the effort. Still, if those lines of his are running a little too hot, if that core of his is saying otherwise? Greed's not about to show it.]

[Instead, he plucks the cigarette from his mouth and pinches it out. Embers flutter at his fingertips, sending bits trembling to the floor like the remnants of a bomb-blast running sky high. They fall, fading before they even get a chance to touch the ground.] But you knew that already. Yet, here you are.

[The cigarette butt gets flicked away by a snap of the finger and it sails towards the alley of tables. Only to be kicked and stomped away as more people flood in.] So why don't you tell it to me straight - either stay here with me, or don't. Either way, I don't really care what you do.

Maybe so.

[He gives another lazy shrug, watching Greed carefully.]

Maybe not.

[There's too many differences in the story for Greed to be the same one he knows, even if that's confusing and should be impossible. But there are other places out there, people he's met from places that couldn't be Amestris. Places where alchemy doesn't exist.

Two versions of Amestris, huh? Maybe they're just that damn special.]

There isn't much to say. I met someone who offered to put me back in the military.

[And oh, how he had wanted it. Every single day when he was in that prison, he had wanted it. Killing his superior officers for preventing him from doing his job had been the natural thing to do. They had been the ones preventing him from doing his job.

And yet he was the one branded a traitor.]

The military huh? [Greed lets his skull lull to the side, as if he's taken an interest in something beyond Kimbley and not the man himself. It's the last nail in the proverbial coffin, the one truth to make it all stick:]

[No one he knew had any desire to return to the military. Good deal or not.]

[The Sin's fingers wrap around the lip of his scotch as his ankles unlace beneath the secrecy of the table. No - Kimbley couldn't have worked for him. Not in his lifetime, not with his own set of standards. His were outcasts; those that couldn't dabble in the normal life above. They took to shadow and stayed without complaint.]

[Whoever Kimbley is, wherever he came from? It certainly isn't from the same world.] Must have been a pretty good deal - [Greed trails off, not without a reverberating noise sticking to his throat like glue. His upper lip lifts with a slight sneer while his torso bends and his shoulders sink.] - I don't let go of mine so easily.

[There's more people coming in now, though the definition of "people" is vague and simple at best. Most hide in their layers, others are more plain. Stark. A nice change of pace, all things concerned. He's never found a need to lie about it, never found the point. Greed's dangerous look is a mixture of wonder and pleasantries as he slowly nudges the bottom of the table.]

I'm not interested in someone who isn't a little loyal. [His eyes roll under his sunglasses, catching light as they pass. The shivering of stone at the corners steal from the fire, turning the black of his shades aglow. Similar to newly-freshened coal. He snaps his tongue across the roof of his mouth and eases up a shrug.] A shame, though.

Guess you and I won't be good friends, will we? [The ice in the glass rattles as he twirls his wrist. Dangerous territory, he's reminded. If one of his turned to the military, well.]

[One can only speculate.] Eh- [Greed waves his fingers and takes another pull. Again, the glass is drained halfway deep before he sets it down again.] - I'm also not really interested in the trouble. I'd rather do this peacefully, hmn? [But as he talks, the tips of his nails quake. Dragging off the stone of his hand inch by terribly-screeching inch.] After all, if anything I do consider myself fair.

[It wasn't as though it was a desire he expressed, though he suspects Martel knew. She could see through him in ways he wasn't too keen on admitting. Not now, not ever. It wasn't that he cared, particularly. It made things complicated for him, but then he had ways of making things simple again.

Or he used to, at one point.]

Fortunately for you, there's no military here.

[Kimbley doesn't have plans to rejoin Greed. Especially not a Greed that doesn't recognize him for reasons he doesn't understand.]

I'm not about to prevent you from having fun here if that's what you're saying. I'm not interested in fighting you.

[Kimbley had gotten what he wanted. If Greed gets something he wants here, as far as Kimbley's concerned what happened in Amestris doesn't matter at all.

He watches Greed, his expression careful, but he's still relaxed, probably a little too relaxed given the situation, his grip on his own glass lazy as he drinks from it.]

What are your terms?

["Fortunately for you, there's no military here." Maybe so, but the differences in their worlds, in their stories? Greed's no stranger to working on the side of the underdog. But Kimbley's humble responses are both intriguing and acknowledged as they are - differences. He's not sure whether or not the same story applies in the end.]

[Or whether or not the military's still barking down orders from a different threat entirely.]

[Still, the former homunculus gives a sly smile. Sans his teeth and his eyes sink shut under his sunglasses.] That's the first thing you and I can agree on. Fine. Like I said before - I'm not interested in making this any messier than it has to be. [His fingers leave the glass as they toss back into his pockets. And Greed stretches his leg out, smacking his heel dead-center into the small alleyway of tables. He tips to the side then, slouching out of the booth. Only to pause in mid-rise, almost going stone-still as he does so.]

Ah-? [The Sin turns his head back to Kimbley with a feigned look of surprise. His brows press at the bridge of his nose and his mouth splits wide open again. This time, his laughter is soft. Hot and hissing through the sharps of his teeth like an open gas-line. Leaking and leaking until it's choked in his throat.] My terms? Ha - ! You really have it all wrong -

[But if they're talking terms, they're talking a deal. Greed slithers out from the booth, slowing rising on Kimbley's flank. He looks at him under the rims of his sunglasses and his eyes seem to simmer. Glowing with the touch of candlelight as he taps his foot to the floor.] - either you can work for me, or you can do whatever you want. But don't mistake me for somebody else, friend. [The slits of his eyes pulsate again. Trembling to thick lines before thinning out at a more elongated pace.]

Leave me and mine and I'll do you the favor. [Slumping at the shoulder, Greed takes on the look of a ghoul. Sliding past, leaving Kimbley to his own.] Don't - well. [He slowly rolls his head away, looking more at the crowd than Kimbley himself. From beneath his shades, his expression turns dangerous. His eyes narrow.] That's stealing. And if you knew me, you should already know.

[One step forward has him away, another has him weaving into the crowd.] I don't let anyone take what's mine.

[Close, but not the same.

There are differences he wants, needs to figure out. Why Greed is behaving so differently from how he knows him, and yet not so different that he's not unrecognizable. It's something to consider.

Besides, he knows better than to start a feud with the former homunculus. He doesn't know if this Greed would keep a grudge because he doesn't know if the one he knew would.]

Sounds reasonable enough. This place is big enough for the both of us.

[He won't work for Greed. Not now, at any rate. But who's to say? Maybe he'll look tempting at some point. It's best to keep his doors open, so to speak. There's too many differences for this one to take Kimbley in just like that, especially given his uniform. Even if the uniform is ill-fitted and improperly worn, the status means something to him.]

Of course.

[That much he knows.]

I'm not taking anything you own.

[He's just not interested in that. What he finds here will be his, and Kimbley is fairly certain his interests won't entirely line up with Greed's. And well, if they do, there's no reason they can't be civil to one another. He doesn't care to make such a powerful enemy.

Not for a second time, not when he could do actual damage to him.

Kimbley's expression is even, but he's not as relaxed as he was. He's at a disadvantage here. His reaction time will be off if this gets heated. It's not what Kimbley wants, but he's the sort of man who refuses to back down from a challenge.]

There's no point to it.

[His smile returns, his expression peels away. Whatever that tid-bit of anger was, that twinge of seriousness? It's gone. Greed barks out a slight laugh and shoots his hand over his shoulder.] I'm sure. Just figured we'd be clear about that. I'm not interested in hurting anyone or making anything messier than it already is. Long as you can deal with that, well.

[The Sin's body slumps in on itself, his heel kicks out. Always on display, always moving; he's slippery as oil and just a crude. He can't imagine this other him could be very different. After all, he had only briefly lost himself during the first few weeks following his purification. His avarice still held through it all, tugging him forward like an invisible vice around his throat.]

[Though he never fought it, never felt the need. He imagines whoever Kimbley knew? The same must have been true.]

[Not that it matters here, not now.] Don't get me wrong, friend. I've got nothing against you - [The Sin mostly talks from his back and his arm falls back to his side. Letting his wrist twist with an erratic nature that's all too him; all too eager, wanting. Desire with every twitch of the finger, with every dramatic toss. Greed hooks his thumb into the back of his leathers and shoots a lopsided grin over his shoulder.]

- besides, would be a little rude, right? We've only just met, after all. [Greed shrugs off the idea. Whatever this Kimbley feels like doing, that's entirely up to him. In the end, the differences in their stories are intriguing, but that's all. It's something to keep an eye out for, but the night's still young.]

[And oh, does this world have plenty to have.] See ya around. [Greed hums, almost dismissively. As he slinks into the crowd, nearly weaving in and out of the head-count with a sense of purpose. With a waltz that's practiced, drawled. And if he's snatching something before that door bell rings, it's hard to make out. The dark masks his movements until the door chimes his exit.]

[But different worlds, another him. Greed's smile glints in the dim light outside. The possibilities are practically endless. And it's the first time in a long time he's felt it. Slithering up from his pit, thudding in his chest: that ever-growing need.]

[Greed takes a step forward, leading him deeper into town. And after a few sharp clicks of the heel, he's gone.]

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TEST DRIVE MEME

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