TEST DRIVE MEME

[ryslighelpers]

TEST DRIVE MEME: JANUARY

Welcome to the Ryslig Test Drive Meme! Below are a few prompts to get you started, but you may make up any prompt you desire! Please take a look at the navigation page for rules, setting information, and links to reserves and apps. Have fun!

SCENARIO ONE

You wake up on the beach thoroughly drenched with your mouth full of sand. The salt water causes various cuts and scrapes on your skin to sting and the sand isn't helping. The air is slightly humid, ruining any feeling of refreshment you might have gotten from your dip in the ocean. There are lights in the distance but the unfriendly scent of gunpowder fills the air. If you're lucky, you're alone. If not, you might find yourself staring up into a pair of monstrous eyes or down the barrel of a local's shotgun.

SCENARIO TWO

So you've just arrived, and already SOME the natives are trying to get on your good side. Offers of food, shelter and other luxuries in return for hoping you don't eat them. They even have some helpful pamphlets to share with you. "How To Deal With Changes", "Alternatives to Human Flesh", "What to Expect When You're Expecting (to turn into a monster)" are all great pamphlets. There's even some detailing certain monsters, and the changes they go through. Some of these seem to have been passed down from one monster to the next.

Among these however, are some... not so helpful ones. "Bunnyipyips And You", "Axe Thief Axehounds," and "So you're becoming a Fur Bearing Trout" among others. Sometimes they have marks on them from previous people who had them saying they are lies, or pointing out good "jokes." Then there's the people who aren't happy to see you at all. Glares and silent, judging stares if you're lucky. Torches and pitchforks attempting to drive you out of the town if you're not. You may need a friend to help you.

SCENARIO THREE

"Seek us out," the voice whispers in your head, and before you have time to question it you've found yourself in someplace entirely alien. Maybe it's the Fog God's ghostly town of Dyster, where exultant followers dance around bonfires and sing their praises to the skies above. Maybe it's the Fourth God's arcade, with small robots wheeling about amidst the lights and colors of old pinball machines. Only one thing is certain: you are not alone, in this sacred place.

SCENARIO FOUR

The time has come and you've found yourself becoming a monster. Is the change instant, or gradual? Are you familiar enough with monsters to know what's happening, or is it a complete shock? NOTE: Feel free to pick any monster type for this prompt, but note that you may not get the same one in game.

Comments

Eduard Markgraf von Sekt nahe Braunschweig | Meine Liebe

[unehelichkind]

one: arrival
[ He's woken up after being knocked out before. Granted, this time he doesn't remember being in a situation where he could get knocked out. He had been in Camus' greenhouse with the others after all.

But he takes things in a stride, less bothered than he probably should be, and does his best to brush the sand out of his hair, as he sets off to explore. That he's soaking wet is nothing that bothers him either. ]

I thought I had explored everywhere around school, but this is new.



two: pamphlets
[ People don't really need to offer him anything to be on his good side. As long as he doesn't have a reason to dislike someone, he won't, and he doesn't hold grudges very often either.

These pamphlets are a bit odd. Just a bit. He's read some odd books but it's just books, but here people seem to act as if it's real that people might turn into monsters. ]

A bit bizarre... Is this real?

[ He's got both a few serious and a few very not serious pamphlets, and he's wondering if any or all are true. ]



three: arcade
[ Arcades? Completely foreign to him.

He's staring and gaping and might be in the way, where he's just gawking at what he sees. ]

What the...



four: kelpie
[ The changes that happened to him, he had been told, was showing signs of being kelpie, and that was actually exciting, because, well, he loves horses.

On the other hand, once he actually gains the ability to shape-shift into a horse, he's learning that it's not that easy to maneuver four legs. ]

I have an even bigger respect for horses now.

[ As if the "love of his life" wasn't already a horse. ]

2

[tinypebble]

[ Judging by the fact that the person he's talking to got four arms and gigantic wings, there might be some sort of truth when it comes to monsters, at the very least.

Haru gives him an unenthusiastic look and adjusts the scarf around his neck. ]

My guess would be yes.

Raynie | Radiant Historia

[atjourneysend]

ONE

[This has got to be the worst hangover ever, and she didn’t even drink THAT much. It’s so cold, she can’t believe Marco and the others just left her passed out here on the sand - wait, sand?

Raynie sits up in confusion. How did she end up on the beach - a beach, it doesn’t even look familiar? She pinches herself - noticing the scratches on her arms in alarm - and grunts when pain tells her that no, this isn’t a dream.

She can barely start warping her head around the situation when someone cocks a gun behind her. An angry man who calls her a freak and yells about “puttin’ them down while they’re still human”, or something. Raynie tries to interrupt the tirade to ask what the hell is going on, but he just shouts louder and waves the gun around. She stops listening and focuses on finding a way out.

There’s an opening soon enough. The man’s clearly not a professional; he’s too upset, too invested in telling her what he’d do instead of just doing it. By the time someone comes to check what’s with the noise, the man is lying on the ground with Raynie’s boot on his stomach.]

Let’s try again, buddy. [She aims the man’s shotgun at his head. She’s never fired one before, but how hard can it be from point blank? She got this] What’s going on? Less gloating and more explaining.


TWO

[There are too many pamphlets. Raynie flips through impatiently, going over a line here and a paragraph there, hardly bothering to read one in full. She never had the patience to read so many words, especially not something this ridiculous. Raynie doesn’t want to believe any of it, but it’s hard to keep telling yourself someone’s just pulling a prank when proof is all around her, shedding feathers or skittering on too many legs. She can write some of them off as Beastkind, but others… they really look like, like - ]

Arrgh!

[Raynie slams the stack down in frustration. Screw this, she doesn’t want to see it anymore. She’s walking away - not knowing where to, just that she needs to get away from this madness - when she passes by another billboard. This one claims to have “monster approved, REAL information!” Raynie groans and rolls her eye.]

Is that supposed to be helpful? I don’t care if axehounds don’t exist, turning into the “real” things sounds even worse.

[If the person she addresses happens to be a monster, there’s a beat and Raynie adds:]

No offense.


THREE

[Having found her way into the arcade, Raynie gives the robots a dubious look. Compared to a thaumachine, they’re pretty underwhelming.]

You know, I’m not exactly religious but -

[She presses a pinball machine’s buttons, watching the flippers move.]

I was expecting a temple or something. What kinda lame god gets worshipped here?

2; SKIDS IN HERE hello

[makehistoria]

...none taken. [The voice of the monster standing to the side even sounds faintly amused, in a dry sort of way.]

[He shades his eyes to glance up at the billboard, though he's already standing carefully within bounds of the shadows it casts. Dark tendrils sprout off his back - they twist slowly back and forth, going through each other every once in a while. Something about the movement seems... sad, maybe? Or maybe not. It's hard to tell, who knows what's what with weird shadow-monster body language.]

[After a moment, the monster drops his arm, glancing sideways at Raynie. His eyes are blank-white.]

[Hey, Raynie. That voice... it's a bit more static-like, a bit more just-off-the-right-radio-channel. But doesn't it sound familiar?]

Espurr | Pokemon Super Mystery Dungeon

[tripurragent]

[Like a Catfish Outta Water]

KKh-KAHHH! HHAHHH!

[The first thing she noticed was that she had something in her mouth. Something choking her, and something that needed OUT, and she spits it upon the shore with a wheezing cough. It is only once she can clearly breathe that she notices more, however.

What happened to her hands? There is something coating them, something now soaked in brine and ocean sand. And as she struggles to stand, she finds more things coating her...and yet she's cold? Freezing, really, it must have been the water, but-

Bzzzzt, Bzzzzt...

She tries to contact someone. Anyone that she knows-Dark Matter was defeated right? So this couldn't be related (And really, this didn't feel at all like the Abysslands...). It couldn't...

...She can't use her telepathy.

Her eyes widen, and she looks around, scared for the first time in a long time.] ...

[Where IS she?!]

[Excuse YOU?]

[Living without telepathy has taken its toll on Espurr, even with how strong she tries to be. She misses being able to call others on a whim, she misses being able to feel out for who lies ahead, to feel out for what else is out there.

'Seek us out'.

When she hears a voice in her mind, it is the first time in quite a while that she's felt the way she has when she had her power and rightful shape. She wanders after the the sound in her mind, and finds for herself a door of bone in the middle of nowhere. That's...odd.

Looking around shows no one there. And yet she can still hear a woman's call-'Seek us out'.] ...Are you here? [she asks aloud, looking back to the door.

Hmmm. It does look rather interesting...]

Megumi Shimizu | Shiki

[deadstalker]

TWO

[Hobbling across the sand on a pair of heels, Megumi finally makes it to civilization - if you can call it that. “Vandare” is a proper town, but it smells of fish and looks old, with people even less sophisticated than in Sotoba!

The flyers certainly don’t help her rotten mood. Did she really turn back into a lame human only to change again into some revolting creature gorging on raw flesh? When she was a vampire she at least had class.]

Ugh!

[Megumi crumples the pamphlets and throws them on the ground. Someone else can clean it up.]

This is the worst. Don’t we at least get to choose? I don’t want to turn into a bug.


THREE

[Megumi wanted nothing to do with the Fog followers at first. Dancing around a bonfire singing creepy hymns? Dressed in these robes? Please. She watched them from a distance in a mixture of nervousness and disdain, wanting nothing more than to find the exit… until they noticed her. Megumi recoiled, but they were so enthusiastic she eventually warmed up to them.

Now, sitting in a surprisingly comfortable wooden chair with one follower fanning her and another serving her a drink, she thinks how nice it is to be worshipped. She’s always dreamed of this; her dreams involved more stages and neon lights, but this isn’t bad either.]

You know, [She turns to the person in the chair next to hers] I could get used to this.

[andeatit]

You probably won't. [Megumi is greeted by a man that still seems largely human save from the visible blue and black wings and antennae growing from his head, but he's still very much a monster.] At least not in the way you'd think. [He points from the small protrusions from his own head.] Most of the time it's more like a feature or two rather than completely insect-like.

[She's new and unhappy with the situation. It's understandable. Littering is bad, but she's probably going through enough without a small lecture for a mostly harmless crime. He does bend over to retrieve it, mostly so he can have a look of what the information said. Light has long sense made his own packets.]

The idea probably isn't exciting in itself, but a lot of the pamphlets given out make it seem even worse than it actually is.

clarence | penumbra: black plague

[yourdearfriend]

one;

[When Clarence wakes up on the beach, he coughs and hacks and chokes far longer than necessary. Pain is still unfamiliar to him, and so the salt water against his open wounds might as well be a knife to his gut. Sand is yet another unpleasant new sensation -- no matter how much he spits, the particles remain stuck on his tongue, in his throat. Having a body is such a hindrance. Everything is so uncomfortable. How do humans survive?

But Clarence isn't a human, at least not now. This is the second time he's woken up on the peninsula, and he's already transformed into one of the hideous beasts that is warned about on the pamphlet. His grey, fly-like wings buzz and twitch. His second mouth, the one inside his stomach, pulses under his soaking wet shirt in a permenant gaping gasp. His antennae flick. His pitch black eyes shoot open and squeeze closed with every cough.]

Christ!

[His voice is sharp and unpleasant, even if you don't account for the copious amounts of salt water and sand in his sinuses. He looks from left to right, his nostrils flaming.

Someone will pay for this.]

[andeatit]

[There had been rumors of a few new people washing ashore. Light had decided it was best to investigate just in case there were some new arrivals, though the timing wasn't quite right. It wouldn't be the first time Ryslig had shaken things up.

Indeed, he is surprised. Not only is there someone on the beach, but he's familiar, not from home but from his time here. Clarence. The name doesn't manage to come to mind, not since Light has lost the ability to retain names, but all the other memories stay intact. Another person who knew his secret.]

You're back. [Seeing no benefit in hiding his surprise, his words betray how shocked he is with the situation. This is the second recent return that Light himself is aware of.]

Gintoki Sakata | Gintama

[naturallywavy]

ONE;

<sub>[ It all had seemed like a hellish nightmare. He wasn't sure what to expect next, but waking up with sand in his mouth and in an unfamiliar place wasn't what he wanted. The dull sting all over his body was no surprise to him; he was accustomed to waking up with minor injuries, but honestly. Where did these come from?

He really wish it had been a dream, but he knew it wasn't. None of it was. Nothing was fully explained. Not even his enemy's face.
The only thing left to do was move forward. There was a lot stuff to be done, and Gintoki would do whatever he had to take to get back home... first he had to find out where he was.

Already on his feet, Gintoki finds his mind wandering aimlessly as his fingers trace over wounds that mark his arms, trying to re-call where they might have come from, muttering softly under his breath words that really couldn't be heard. He's thinking; Gin talks a lot to himself when he's thinking. Soon enough, he gets louder: ]</sub>

...—no, nono no no.. see, this, this here is just.. where Gin-san is going to be spending his time until the next season starts. That's all this is. This'll give the animators plenty of time to catch up to everything. Hah, right. Hang in theeeere, manga Gin-san! Good luck!

_{[ ... He takes a moment to look around. ]}

Though, I dunno where this is.
_{[ Suddenly, a gun-shot. The bullet misses Gintoki's body by a hair, quite literally. The bullet hits his silver hair, causing a few loose, wavy pieces to go flying into the air. Gintoki clenches his teeth and whirls his head around in the direction where the bullet came from: ]}

OI, BASTARD!! I'M A PROTAGONIST ON VACATION! VACATION! NO FATAL ATTEMPTS UNTIL I'M WORKING AGAIN!
_{[ ah... ]}

THREE;

Excuse me.
_{[ He places his hand on the nearest person's shoulder. The pinball machines were rather primitive to what Gintoki was used to, surprisingly enough. He didn't know what "seek us out" meant, but he had something else in mind. Something else more pressing. ]}

Where's the Str**t F*ghter console? They've got Str**t F*ghter, right? What kind of sacred place doesn't have that?

RUNS TO YOU WITH ARMS OPEN

[titularly]

[The only reasons Osomatsu was wandering around here was because a.) he got in a fight with his brothers and needed a change of pace and b.) he heard it was newcomer time and was kind of hoping he'd find someone familiar here.... Iyami so he could bully him, Chibita for a shoulder to cry on, Totoko to flir... okay, he can't flirt with her anymore but it'd still be nice to see her in her cute glory again!! But unfortunately, his search was coming up zero and after wandering around and almost getting shot for a while, he was ready to turn in.

Except, while he was crossing the sands he heard something interesting. Someone talking about his "manga self" and yelling about being a protagonist on vacation. To normal people, that'd sound really strange but for Osomatsu: it's a comrade. He turns to see the silver haired man yelling at someone with a gun, and he knows that is... going to turn into a nasty scene. So in a loud, kind of off-key voice he sings a familiar song and it has the human with the gun slowly becoming hypnotized. His arms go limp and the gun falls out of his hands, and Osomatsu finishes off his song with an on-beat clap and walks over to Gintoki with a grin. And he points to the firearm on the ground.]

You miiiight wanna pick that up before that guy snaps back to normal.

Clementine | The Walking Dead (Video Game)

[staystrong]

one.

[Sand... When was the last time she'd been near sand? When was the last time she'd been near an ocean of any kind?

Clementine lifts her head and the scenery before her is completely unfamiliar. This definitely isn't Richmond, and dragging her all the way back out to the coast would be a bit much even for the New Frontier.

Perhaps she's died? Though she wouldn't expect Heaven to involve a mouth full of sand and there isn't enough fire and Brimstone for it to pass as Hell. Still, she half expects to hear the sound of motorboat engine on the horizon. Kenny would pull up to the shore with one arm extended, Lee at his side.

No. No such luck.

There are voices in the distance, signs of life in a town up ahead. You'd hardly believe from the look of things that the apocalypse had happened. But this doesn't make her feel safe in the slightest. She'd rather stay away from towns.

It doesn't take much checking to find out that all her weapons have been taken from her. Having a pistol on hand would just be too fortunate. She isn't looking forward to getting hold of another one. At the very least she needs to get her hands on a knife.

Standing, she brushes sand from her clothes with a scowl. She'll be finding grains in the folds for days. She doesn't call out, as she doesn't want whoever brought her here to know that she's conscious and she certainly doesn't want to draw the attention of anyone nearby. Instead she begins quietly searching for anything she might be able to use to take out walkers.]

three.

[Clementine hasn't seen a working video game console since she was a child. She hadn't had one herself. Her dad had built her a tree house instead, which she thought was way cooler.

They'd had one of these in the local pizza place, though, and sometimes her parents would give her a couple quarters to mess around even though she'd barely been tall enough to reach the buttons.

It's fascinating to look at. The world she'd come across outside had been strange enough, as though she'd stepped into some sort of weird, backwards time machine, but this is something else completely. It's all at once more strange and more familiar, and she really is starting to feel as though she herself has stepped out of time - stepped out of reality completely.

She walks up to one of the machines and places her hands on the plastic, not even bothering with the controls. She finds herself staring at her own reflection in the class cover, ignoring the flashing pixels on the screen behind it.

Something wet falls onto the back of her hand, startling her. She wipes the tears away hastily with her sleeve. Now isn't the time.]

Three

[tripurragent]

[To a former pokemon, however advanced their world in comparison to the wilds of the 'mainstream' series, the entire Arcade has been something nearly mystical in her eyes. She came here following voices-following the familiar sensation of something sounding through her mind, a hollow replacement for what she lost. At least after all this time these clothes are dry. She'd never have thought of it before, but it seems human bodies were incredibly susceptible to the cold!

So wearing layers of things instead of just a decorative scarf made sense, she supposed.

She wasn't looking at you Clemintine-she swears it. She was just passing and looking at all of these blinking, pixellated things and...

Oh. What was certainly a move to wipe eyes of something, wasn't it?] Are you alright? [she asks, seemingly oblivious to the likely surprise such a sudden voice might cause.]

Ciel Phantomhive | Kuroshitsuji | OTA

[eyecontract]

1

[The coarse sand leaves its rough texture on his tongue. Despite the small array of cuts and the wet tide, it's the taste and feel that Ciel notices first. As he raises himself off the ground, he spits in an attempt to clear his mouth. His expensive clothes are slightly torn and a lot muddy, which is the second thing he notices upon standing.

Where is he? He hadn't been on a ship, he'd been back in England. Another kidnapping attempt? These were growing tiresome, but at least it means he knows the strategy. All he has to do is stay safe until Sebastian arrived. The landscape is unfamiliar, he might not come immediately. Hm. Then maybe he'll have to make it till morning.

As he moves further into the shore, the faint smell of gunpowder hits his nose. That's unfortunate. It's annoyance rather than fear that overtakes his features. Maybe if this was a less common occurrence, maybe if he knew the extent of different Ryslig would turn out to be, Ciel would be more afraid. For now, he only moves forward, planning to look for shelter or information. The fact he's human and dirty are signs of how different he is, and his youth can either be a gift or a curse. While it makes him an easy target, it also makes it easier for him to gain trust and get help.]

2

[Alternatives to human flesh? Had he stepped into a city full of lunatics? Or maybe this is some kind of underworld and he'd joined the demons. Somehow, he'd always pictured it much worse. Ciel looks across the various pamphlets and has to force himself not to give in to the desire to trash them. If something is happening here, they can investigate once the demon shows, and these could be clues. Where is he anyway? Ciel has no patience for this.

But he does have time. When he approaches a stranger, he smiles and drops the dignified look the Phantomhives and other nobles must wear. His predecessor often managed to get away with more by being charming, Ciel has to look cute instead.

It means approaching one of these things. Monsters. That's not a word normally associated with friendliness in his world, but outcasts don't bother Ciel as much as it does most. The problem comes in the danger they might pose.]

Excuse me. [He presents a hand full of pamphlets for the stranger to review.] These are a pretty bad joke. Can you tell me where I can find a real map?

2!

[witchofwishes]

[She turns to face the child who is talking to her adding a bit of flair in her movements. The sleeves of the kimono, her beautiful buttefly wings, the long dark tresses that she throws over her shoulder. There's a lot going on and she's just showing it all off.

Perhaps he's not impressed? It doesn't matter.]

That is your map. [She kneels a bit to speak at eye level with him allowing her flowing garments to pool around her for the moment.] And it's not a joke. I don't think anyone really believes it at first. [She does look at his pamphlet to be sure it is a good one. There are a lot of "funny guys" out there making fake stuff. She may have made one herself~ Maybe~] No, this is definitely the kind of information you want. Though... alternatives to people food. [She sticks out her tongue a bit.] That's like eating tofu that tastes like meat. It's not really meat and it doesn't really taste like it either. You're going to want the real deal. Don't go vegetarian. It isn't healthy~

[She can't help but laugh, finding herself incredibly funny. This whole thing hasn't bothered her one bit. It's just a special little circle of life they have going on here. They're all demons and monsters and they prey on the souls and flesh of humans. Maybe one day they'll get exorcised or something like that but until then, live your life!]

Ellie | Last of Us | OTA

[notmynature]

1

Fuck. [The curse is the first word from her mouth once she's regained enough consciousness to have a look around. Her body hurts, her clothes are soaked, and she has no idea where she's at. It's a beach, she's got that. There's been shots fired recently, she recognizes the scent all too well. Her gun? Gone, which makes the situation just fantastic.

After everything she's been through, Ellie is more weary of strangers. It's why she's quiet as she moves through the night, but the sky is dark and the land unfamiliar. A stick catches her foot and causes her to crash back to the sand in an elegant display of grace.]

Great. More sand. It was so delicious the first time. [Sticking out her tongue, she wipes with the back of her hand to try to erase the taste. It isn't horrible, she's had worse, but it's crunching beneath her teeth and that's super distracting.]

2

[Pamplet smamplet. The monsters had definitely been eye catching, and she'd been careful at first, but it turns out they were just like people, only they looked different. Which was weird, but this place was weird for so many reasons. They had electricity without generators, the city was so crowded, and they had shops that sold everything. Her eyes can't decide what to settle on first, and in the end, she finds herself drawn to an ice cream shop. It really is like all the stories of how the world was before. It's like one of those books where people go back in time. Maybe she had and now she was some super cool hero who had to stop the outbreak from happening. Which is important, but there's ice cream on the other side of the shop window.]

Awwww...man. The thing about having parasites everywhere is that having no money's never been a problem. [The brochures, unread, stick from the back of her pocket. She wasn't hungry before, but now that everything smells so good, she is.

She just has to find Joel. He's probably really untrusting around the monsters, even if nobody's attacking anybody. He'd know about the whole buying ice cream thing.]

Hey, I'm looking for a guy. He's tall, has a beard, and always frowning. You seen him?

[There's no way she can not meet up with him and take advantage of their time here.]

[staystrong]

That... sounds like a lot of people I've known.

[None of which were here, sadly. Monsters aside, they at least had fresh food and electricity. Speaking of which, Clementine currently has what looks like half a subway sandwich in her hands, several bites already taken from it. She takes another bite now, though her eyes remain on the other girl, calculating.

She doesn't wait to swallow before continuing.]

Won't haff mush luck that way.

Tae Seragaki | Dramatical Murder | OTA

[taedofthisshit]

1: The beach.
Honestly, she's way too old for this.

Though she has been knocked out before and been down to the beach, she's never had the mix of the two. Since she's well into her golden years (or what some would consider 'golden years') Tae honestly thought that she'd be beyond the point of being bashed unconscious and put in some strange, foreign place. Evidently not.

The old woman coughed hoarsely into her arm as she staggered to her feet, wincing at how weak she felt. The various cuts on her arms and legs weren't helping the ache in her old bones and neither was the sting of grit in said wounds. Tae spat out whatever salt was in her mouth before she checked herself over. No major injuries, which was good. If she had dislocated her hip again, she would have some real problems. Not that she didn't have those at the moment.]

... Hmph... What the hell is wrong with here?

[It's certainly not Midorijima. The sky is too blue. There lacks the usual distant building scape. The ocean looks too unwelcoming in contrast with the sky. It seems wrong. There's no way she can be off the island, and yet...]

Can't an old lady get a break around here? [She pulled her long pink hair out of her usual bun and shook the seaweed out as best as she could before tying it back in the same style. Once her hair was out of her face, she knew it was time to move. The smell of gunpowder was certainly unfamiliar, but the danger that it brought wasn't.

Taking off her slippers, Tae began to walk. One step... two steps... a slow shuffle down the beach, all while she grumbled away.]

Whoever is responsible for this is going to get hell from me.

-----

2: Arrival.
Bah! Don't give me this nonsense! [Despite the townsperson's best attempts to convince Tae to take a pamphlet, the old woman deftly smacked the man's hand. She had heard many, many weird things in her life, and researched the impossible herself. But this? This sort of thing? Absolutely bloody nonsense. The old woman scowled as she hobbled away, pursued by some of the more insistent ones.]

Listen here. There's no such thing as monsters. If anything, they're just other people. Go away.

[She avoids the glares of anyone who comes her way and continues to walk. She does look like she does need a bit of help, but for most part she's just really grumpy.]

Hoy... Where can I find actual information? And maybe the hospital?

1!

[tripurragent]

[She's still rather soaked to the skin, at this point; sand coating her knees and shoes, her mittens, her coat...she recognizes these things as 'clothes' of sorts, but she's...never worn so many of them, and the fact that she's still cold is honestly baffling. It hardly helps that she seems devoid of most of her fur however and...

Well. Honestly it's pretty hard to ignore 'not' being what you normally are. Either way. She eventually manages to catch sight of the old woman shuffling along the beach, blinking rapidly when she hears the mutterings.

She can't help but think-speak, really, since her thoughts would be so loud if she had telepathy, but it's gone after all-] ...Hell?

Lusamine | Pokemon Sun/Moon | Pokemon Spoilers in Here

[walkonaether]

Scenario One

[Sand clings to her pristine clothes as Lusamine forces herself up onto her knees. The water is cold, so unlike the warmth of the Alolan seas. She practically hisses as she looks up to see an elderly man jabbing a gun in her face.]

...what are you doing?

[Seriously. Why is he threatening her? She reaches towards her hip where her Poke balls should be. Bewear should take care of this--wait. Her eyes widen just slightly.]

Scenario Two

[Okay, stranded in a strange place? No Pokemon anywhere? Time to ask questions. Such as,]

Excuse me. What's that?

[She's pointing at a dog that's following at her heels. She finds it adorable but... Honestly. What is it? That's no Rockruff, Lilipup or any other sort of canine Pokemon she knows of. She must know.]

The poor little thing seems to be lost... I'm so worried about it.

Scenario Three

[...Okay. You know what? This town was ugly. The fire in the middle was ugly. The people dancing around the fire were ugly. Just what was this?]

Is there any point of this at all?

Scenario Four; Werebear

[There really hasn't been many physical changes yet, a sharpness to her nails and maybe a few fangs. Nothing too noticeable but there is one thing that has been happening that she can't really explain.

Her need to climb or the reason why carrying the various stray animals she's found into them is so soothing. Or rather why she's climbing at all. It's such an inelegant thing...

If you look up as you walk through the park you may find a grown woman petting a cat and sitting in a tree. She glares slightly as her heels hit the tree trunk just a little.]

Is there a problem?

TWO...

[tripurragent]

[Whether Lusamine was talking to her or not, Espurr's attentions are caught. She's...rather confused as well. Highly confused. By this point at least, she's learned better-the animals here are...........'Animals'. They don't talk, they don't...understand anything.

It's strange. Unfortunate, even, since in her eyes it seems as if humanity is all alone then. As it is, the young girl-and truly, she can't be any older than Lillie was-blinks to it.] It...sort of reminds me of Fennekin... [she finds herself admitting aloud, finding it difficult to containe her thoughts without telepathy at her side.] ...But Fennekin's face was a lot narrower than this, and her ears were bigger too...

[She sounds rather nostal- Wait a minute-]

Caster/Gilles de Rais | Fate/Zero

[monstrueux]

I. The Night Ocean
[Is he dreaming? Or was he dreaming before, to find himself awakening to this?

What's this? Sand? The sun is setting and the sky is dark red and growing darker as Gilles crawls up onto the beach on his hands and knees, hardly noticing as sharp stones cut into his already abraded hands. It's not until he pauses to take a breath that he thinks to look down and notices the red on his hands, just visible in the last light of the fading day. He flexes his long fingers in excitement.]

Real blood! Look at that! Then I'm human again. My Master should see—

[But he breaks off. His Master isn't here, not that he can tell. He can't sense things like he could before. Fortunately, he knows what his Master would want him to do. He laughs, heedless for the moment of who else might be present. He rises to his feet, his gaze finally scanning the shore and taking in his surroundings before he announces in a powerful voice:]

God's mercy is infinite, and also His variety!

II. The Outsider
[Gilles is only too happy to accept the free food—how strange to feel normal urges like hunger again, to be alive. He wolfs it down with a strong appetite—although it someone was trying to get on his good side, unfortunately, he won't probably remember them clearly enough to spare them for their kindness. He doesn't wait to be finished with his food before starting in on the pamphlets, reading them over with interest and crumpling them in the process—yes, even the weird, joke ones.]

What—It's true that we'll become monsters? How does this happen? When?

[He asks the question with great interest, oblivious to the small knot of less-friendly natives who have gathered to glare at him and mutter. With his great height, elongated limbs, and large eyes, he already looks slightly monstrous, even though he's still thoroughly human. He just—looks this way. Suddenly, his mood grows more contemplative, his smile fading.]

Why unmake us to make us again?

[He does like to consider the philosophical implications of monsters.]

III. Through the Gates of the Silver Key
[If a strange voice whispers in Gilles' head, he's probably going to follow it, which may or may not be a good idea. Nonetheless, he finds himself in Dyster, watching the ghostly fog and the flickering fires with wide, bright eyes.

Consider him intrigued. He's willing to consider this new religion. He's already swaying a little to the music. He loves a big production number.]

What does this god mean for us to do?

IV. The Call of Cthulhu
[Lying on the beach, half in the water and half out of it, Gilles is mostly human from the waist up at the moment, although faint luminescent spots are glowing warmly at his throat and his temples. But in the water, pale and definitely inhuman tentacles are unfurling beneath the tattered hem of his robe. There's a purplish tinge to them, and they seem to be—pulsing, faintly.

As he basks on the beach and soaks his new appendages, Gilles is singing to himself. One might expect that a voice coming from such a monstrous form would be monstrous as well, but his singing soft and compelling, if unearthly and wavering, the kind of voice that might draw someone in if they're not paying attention, as if he's become some sort of cephalopod siren

But when someone draws near, Gilles breaks off his singing with a smile. He pats the sand beside him. His speaking voice is more jarring than his singing]

Ah, so you've come for a swim? The water is beautiful, isn't it?

1

[ufufufufu]

God?

[ It starts off as a soft giggle before erupting into a harsh laugh. The idea that any god is merciful is a hilarious thought to him. Beyond hilarious, really. ]

I heard a rumor that people were washing up on the beach. It seems as though it is true. [ Mitsuhide claps his hands together. Applause, applause. He actually is crouched, hooves dug into the sand, as he looks over to the man that has arrived to Ryslig. Antlers come out of his head and the lower half of his body is that of a rotting deer's body but he does have a fluffy tail -- a fluffy, furry tail that wags in greeting. ]

You seem to be in good spirits. Your master... your master would be happy for you?

Vergil | Devil May Cry 3

[resurrect_hell]

2;

[The first thing which Vergil finds increasingly distasteful about this place is not the monsters milling about, but-unsurprisingly-the humans. The humans who ignore his glares as they happily and forcibly shove additional stacks of pamphlets into his hands. Who see fit to answer every question he has with "It's all in the pamphlets" before scurrying off to terrorize another victim.

If he still had Yamato he might have been tempted to run them all through and save the monsters the trouble of the hunt. But as it is he's human, weaponless, weak. For now anyways.

Turning his attention to the pamphlets he curls his lips in disgust as he glances over titles like "5 Easy Ways to Keep Your Claws Nice and Trim" and "Tail Management".]

This is all foolishness.

[He flings the stack of pamphlets over his shoulder, scattering them to the winds. Hopefully you weren't unfortunate enough to be walking right behind him or anything.]

3; dyster

[For days there has been a lingering voice in the back of his mind willing him towards a destination. He's fought it at first, having heard some stories about the resident gods and the people who follow them. But he can't entirely put off the curiosity. The powers of a god is something worth checking out, something worth pursuing. And who better to study than the god who has the power to bring them all here and transform them into beasts?

The town of Dyster is silent as he travels through its streets, searching for a sign of where he needs to go. He can feels the presence of...something lurking nearby, but he cannot say what or who it could be. Finally he stops in the middle of the street, scanning his surroundings.]

I know you're there. Come out.

4; shade

[He had been expecting worse, the way in which people talk about transformations. But the fog has rolled in hours ago and the most he's had to suffer is irritation in his eyes and a sensitivity to the sunlight that manages to pierce through the fog.

Taking refuge in a nearby establishment, he finds a seat towards the back semi-away from the rest of the crowd. Anyone watching him carefully may notice that his eyes are growing whiter and whiter, overtaking his pupils completely and giving off an eerie glow. In fact the immediate area around him seems to take on an eerie presence as well, causing people to go out of their way to avoid his table at all costs.

Which suits him just fine.]

Quite underwhelming. [He mutters to himself.

And then his hand begins to lose substance, turning into a shadowy image.]

2

[tony_redgrave]

[One never forgets that shade of blue.

At first, Dante doubted his eyes. A trick of the light, or his own mind. He's come to expect that of this place, but closer inspection reveals that if it's not who he thinks it is then the guy is a damn good copycat.

Curious he falls into step behind the person who looks suspiciously like his twin. Deftly dodging the pile of thrown pamphlets. A soft bull-like snort of a laugh leaves him, he did the same thing shortly after his arrival.

It's a good thing he's not trying to be quiet because honestly? Hooves aren't the tools of the sneaky. Sneaking is beneath Dante anyway.

Boo.]

Asaka Narumi | Cardfight!! Vanguard

[cirquedelalune]

[One: Arrival]

[Waking up to a mouth and throat full of water and sand is one of those things that a collected attitude just doesn't always cover, and as soon as Asaka breathes in on that beach, she's caught in a harsh coughing fit. As her chest heaves and she spits muck out onto the sand, she stumbles blindly upright and tries to rub saltwater out of her eyes to figure out where she is. The only thing certain is that it isn't where she went to sleep.]

What is this...

[The question is quiet, to herself, but clearly a little worried and tremoring, the tone of someone trying to seem in control of the situation but not quite managing. A few moments' time lets it evaporate into something more certain, and she turns with intent to head down the beach and demand some answers...

...right into whichever monster happens to have ended up nearby. At least she tries to cover the startle, though the replacement of irritation probably isn't much more welcome.]

How did I get here? Did you have something to do with this?

--
[Three: Dyster]

[It's mercifully quiet for a moment when Asaka finally lets the voices lure her away to wherever it is they mean. Eerie as well, perhaps, with the distant flickering of fire and murmur of things too quiet to hear, but it's a welcome departure from the insistent requests in her mind.

And it's not as if she was going to wait long, anyway. The kinds of things the voices had offered were the kinds of things she could only turn down for so long. Reunion, in particular.

After a while of roaming between the empty houses, Asaka finds herself in the middle of the town, watching followers dance around the fire. It's an intense performance, and she can't help but give it a professional's consideration as someone who tends towards entertainment as much as her, one hand on her cheek in deep thought.]

Tradition aside, they could use a little more flair.

--
[Four: Wendigo]

[The night is fine and calm in Bavan as Asaka walks the outskirts, outwardly confident but also rather cautious, because even in this short time she's heard more than enough of the dangers of this place to keep her wits about her. Initially, the fog rolling in is almost a relief, since she can take the advantage of hiding in it as much as anyone else, and breathe a bit easier with being harder to find. But that's only because she hasn't had the misfortune of experiencing a change yet, even if it's only a matter of time.

She's mid-step when the leg she's landing on shatters beneath her weight just under the knee, and she crashes ungracefully to the ground with a shout of pain.

A moment later, she tries to bite it down, reminding herself of the risks, but there's only so much she can hold back when her legs are breaking and reforming themselves, toes fusing together into hard, pointed tips and joints forming in places there never should be joints. Even as fur grows up her legs with a warm, itching feeling, another spike of pain erupts beneath her skull, and she tries to curl in on herself as she feels what seems like bone force itself out under her fingers, weighing down her head.

Agonized and woozy, she tries to stumble upright, all semblance of skillful movement given to her by her performance training gone as she overbalances to the front under the weight of her new horns, stumbles back on hooved feet as her new joints burn, and overcorrects far enough that she ends up falling onto her front. Dragging her feet inwards as she pushes herself up onto her hands, she hears the sound of movement through the fog and it makes her head snap up, a note of fear creeping into her face as she tries to pick shapes out in the fog.]

Who's there? Show yourself! [She's trying to sound authoritative. It's not working that well.]

THREE

[tripurragent]

[Well, she came in here in the end, and she's not really sure what to make of this ceremony herself. The followers dance, and dance, and prepare food, drinks, merriment...and really over all Espurr finds herself more uncomfortable, than anything. She doesn't even look up to Asaka, she merely finds herself in conversation.]

...They're certainly dedicated at least...

Squall Leonhart | Final Fantasy VIII

[shear_trigger]

[ Scenario One ]

[Everything hurts. Squall’s body aches as he slowly cracks his eyes open only to squint them and shut them again as a thick pain thuds through his head. He lays there for a moment, unmoving, to try and dispel the headache. He shifts lightly and runs a gloved hand over the sand and finally manages to find the strength to sit up slowly with a groan.

He brings his hand to his forehead to block out any light from stinging his eyes as he tries to observe his surroundings.

Some sort of beach…

He’s silent and confused and he pulls his hand away from his head to see blood on his glove.]

[ Scenario Two ]

Is this... all some sort of joke?

[What the hell are these pamphlets. Some of them seem right out of a badly scripted horror movie. Squall flips through a few of them with furrowed eyebrows, the irritation clear in his face and shoulders.

Or maybe that’s just because his skin is itching all over. What is that. He twitches and scratches at his arm.

... Maybe he should hang onto a couple of these.]

[ Scenario Four: Werewolf ]

[The realization hits Squall rather hard. Something is happening to him and he doesn’t want to accept it. The itching skin and the growing fangs and the ...sudden hair growth. It’s all very overwhelming.

He stops near a shop window because something catches his eye. Yellow.

Squall turns to the window to look at his face in his reflection.

... His eyes are yellow. In his own world now, Squall reaches up to pull gently at some of his cheek to observe the yellow color closer. His heart hammers with panic.]

[catphishing]

[The were looks pretty absorbed in his reflection. He doesn't recognize him and he seems to be needing to take him his changes, but...

He looks so calm compared to how newly transformed monsters usually are.]

Are you okay?

Yuuko Ichihara | XXXHolic (Clamp)

[witchofwishes]

Three

[You've gotten a good idea of what's happening here. And if you were to be honest with yourself, this isn't half bad at all. The loss of your powers is not a bad thing by any means. There are still little every day charms you can do. You don't need the incredible influx of power that you possessed. It was too much. The only person who'd ever understood that was Clow, and look what he did with himself.

Turning into some kind of demon? Well, it's alarming but it's not frightening. You know so many different kinds from your many many years. It'd be thrilling to turn into some kind of creature.

Eating humans? Yes, upsetting but it's part of this new life. You could consider these new shackles but they feel far better than the ones she lived with all her life. This is no cage. It's freedom.

And so Yuuko can't help but relish in this freedom. The fog feels loving. A witch perhaps as powerful as she had once been... She wants to thank her. Truly she does. It's not exactly the second chance at life she'd have liked but it is something which is more than she ever expected.

There's something important going on. A ceremony to this Fog God? Well, she doesn't see why she can't stay and watch for a bit. Maybe someone will tell her where she can find this Goddess.]

Four

[The changes. Everyone said they'd be painful and they were not kidding. Severe physical pain is not something she's used to. There is suffering and then suffering. But it could always be worse... The pain is in her back, along her shoulder blades. She's glad to be wearing an open back dress today. What will it be? Spikes? Fur? What is she going to turn into...

It only takes a few more moments but the new body part bursts from her back at long last, scattering the smallest droplets of blood in their wake. They feel very light and they slowly unfurl behind her...

Wings. And they're incredibly fitting to her entire aesthetic. Butterfly wings! So often she'd worn a heavy accessory to make it look like she had them. But now they're real! Oh these are wonderful... And it seems to be the only change that she's going to get. Another wonderful gift from the Fog Goddess... And while it does come at a price (a touch of humanity) it's alright. Nothing is free and the scales must always be in balance. A gift such as this requires something in return though. She should do something nice for the Fog God...

Oh! Oh, she knows exactly what she should do.

She's quick to pick herself up off the floor and she throws open the door to where her current housemates are.]

Come have a drink with me and the Fog God!

4 - because she would be the boring roommate

[me_underfire]

[There's a bear in the sitting room with their snout buried in a book. When Yuuko emerges with a brand new pair of wings, she gets up with a incredulous look on her face.]

Wait, what? No, we're not going anywhere. What if you sprout another pair of arms?

Rhys | OC Witch

[sleight_of_fate]

One: Beach.

[Rhys is pretty sure when he wakes up that this is not going to be his fondest memory of waking up on a beach. It says a lot about his life that he has multiple memories to choose from, but this one is definitely not shaping up to be a winner.

Especially when he feels like he's been dragged through a wood chipper, and it's too quiet in his head. Way too quiet. He should feel the ocean, the air, the radiant magic of the place around him, and instead, there's absolutely nothing. It's like being in the middle of an utterly silent blizzard, like being struck deaf.]

Well shit.

[He spits out sand and salt, and brushes more out of his long black hair as he pulls himself to his feet. He doesn't need his empathic senses to decide he doesn't like this place, anyway, and he shakes off a shiver. Time to head for the lights, he guesses...but very, very carefully.]


Two: Arrival.

[If people really believe that Rhys is a monster, he's a very agreeable one in general. He accepts all the gifts graciously because he needs them, absorbs every piece of information he can, and smiles politely at people because he really has no intention of eating them. He's used to not being human, he's just...not used to others realizing it. And now he might not be what he was before because all his powers are gone and...

Nope. He's just going to have a seat right now. He's done. He will be sitting down with all these weird pamphlets, and the collected bag of stuff people have given him with those stilted, frozen smiles, and try not to freak out while he makes sense of exactly what the hell is going on and how he's going to deal with growing fur where there was no fur before.]

Human flesh. Of course there's no gift baskets with that, right? I mean. This one's not a joke? [He tugs uneasily at his heavily pierced ear as he gazes around. Not that anyone is necessarily listening, but he likes talking to himself: he's compelling company, okay?]

It's an infection, isn't it? Some kind of infection.

2

[catphishing]

[Ah. Well, that's not a comfortable question. He looks at him awkwardly for a long few moments, but even without his faerie aversion to lies he wouldn't be able to bring himself to lie about that one.]

It's not a joke. I don't know what causes it, but... it's real.

nico di angelo ▪ heroes of olympus/hidden oracle

[deathkid]

B E A C H

[ when nico wakes up to a mouthful of sand, he's not all that surprised. it's happened before and this likely won't be the last time. shadow travel can sometimes do that, dumping nico exactly where he's never been before or worse, somewhere he'd rather not be. for the moment, he's pretty sure he's made it back to camp. the lulling sound of waves lapping on the shore seems a lot like the beach of camp halfblood. home, or as much of one as nico's had since he'd been taken from the lotus hotel.

except as nico opens oil-slick colored eyes, he notes that the surrounding dunes look nothing like those on long island. and the lights in the distance don't form a familiar U shape that makes up the cabins and big house. so... where in tartarus is he?

not tartarus, at least. he knows that as intimately as he knows his dreams (which, given his power over them, is rather intimate indeed). tartarus still lingers in his dreams sometimes, and though the air smells a bit like that of tartarus (the harsh, acidic scent like brimstone and gunpowder), there isn't a red mist around him.

almost instinctively, nico reaches for his sword. or would, if it were there. this is about the time that nico starts panicking because the last time he'd been without his stygian iron sword, he'd been trapped in a jar and left to starve. sure, he'd been saved but there's no one around now to save him if a monster decides they want a snack. which means nico needs to get out of here immediately.

too bad nothing happens when he tries to draw forth the shadows again. despite how hard he mentally tugs at the encroaching darkness, nothing happens. it's as if he's never learned how to shadow travel at all. and to make things worse, as he reaches out with both hands, he notes that the ground neither rumbles nor do any skeletal hands break through the sand. what in hades is going on?

which, generally speaking, is about the time nico's going to get in more trouble. that's usually how his luck tends to go. so when he hears the tell-tale click of a shotgun shell being cocked into a chamber, he merely releases a sigh and turns around, pale hands lifting toward the sky. he must've landed on someone's private beach and given how he looks (dark, shaggy hair that droops in equally dark eyes; black, torn skinny jeans, a black ramones shirt, and a black, leather bomber jacket; a look of constant fatigue with an expression that says try me), he probably looks like just the kind of kid poised for trouble.

and will is always telling him he needs to work on his people skills... gods, is nico's dad going to be pissed if he finds out his only living son died at the hands of some paranoid mortal. ]

P A M P H L E T  H E L L

[ this is nico di angelo, son of hades, and he is looking rather peeved at the moment. the pockets of his bomber jacket are chalk full of wadded up brochures, in his pale hands are copious more pamphlets, and littering the ground at his feet are, you guessed it, even more of the obnoxious leaflets. it seems people can't take a hint around this place, and no he doesn't want to hear about the newest techniques to pick bones out of one's teeth or how to deal with scale rot. if he weren't powerless at the moment, he'd make use of his usually very effective fear aura, but given he is apparently nothing more than a weaksauce mortal at the moment, he's styx-out-of-luck.

shoving the latest batch into his pockets with the others and scowling darkly at the nearest pamphlet giver, nico huffs and scrunches his shoulders before marching off. ]

Gods, at least I won't have to worry about firewood. Where's Valdez when I need him.

C Y O A [ want one of the other prompts? lmk @ laundry ]

/DIVEBOMBS INTO THE SAND

[idunnosurfing]

[It's not surprising to Percy, at this point, that on one of his semi-regular trips to Vandare to stare out at the waves and try to feel a connection to home, he sees Nico di Angelo from up in the sky.

He's had enough false starts and been under enough stress lately that it makes more sense to assume he's seeing things. He doesn't even question it--his lip curls in a snarl when he sees the gun and he plummets out of the air like a stone, and he doesn't think about the fact that the kid's bomber jacket is really familiar as he plucks the attacker off the ground in his talons and tosses him from enough of a height to make something crunch on landing, but not enough to kill him.

There's not enough justification for that, but only just.

He lands, still not thinking about the fact that he hasn't noticed a single tell to alert his brain to the fact that he's not, in fact, looking at Nico, and gets as far as striding over to the kid and slinging an arm over his shoulder before he blinks, sees Nico, blinks again, still sees Nico...and stalls.

For what feels like an hour, but is probably more like thirty seconds, Percy can't breathe. His stomach churns violently, his heart hammering like it's trying to escape from the guilt and relief and a million other emotions that crowd his chest with a crushing weight.

He inhales, a harsh sound--a sob--and he registers dimly that his vision has gone blurry but he doesn't care. He's too busy pulling Nico against his chest in the tightest hug he can possibly give, breathing in the smell of something he recognizes for the first time in over a year.]

I thought--Gods of Olympus, Nico, I thought I'd never see you again.

Bakugou Katsuki | Boku no Hero Academia

[boomgod]

one
[ First thought: It's too damn cold. Second thought: What the fuck. Not his most eloquent head-fillers, but certainly emphatic ones. He turns over off his back feelin' ragged and pathetic. World's spinning a bit. Ground below his knees has too much give to be anything but sand. Which... shit. The sea breeze, the whispers of washing tides, it's all coming together. That is, coming together into absolute fuck all, where the motherfucking goddamn fuck is he.]

[He licks his lips and lifts his head, squinting towards what had better be civilization. Kinda too fogged to see. He wobbles onto his feet, a vantage point that unsurprisingly adds zero clarity to the situation. Wherever he is, visibility is shit. Fortunately, he is a talented screamer, so if anyone is around. They'll know. And then he'll know. He licks his lips.]

HEY!!!! Anyone there with half a fuckin' brain cell better lemme know where the shit I am!!!

[... No? Nothing? Then Bakugou has to feel a little stupid for an unanswered desperate call to nothing, but whatever-- this is better, if he gets answers on his terms. He starts tromping off towards the lights. Bit slow and wobbly, still. Everythin' fuckin hurts, but he'll drag himself off this cold ass beach by the fingernails if he's gotta.]


two
[Yeah, he's confused and lost and nothing makes sense, but he still doesn't want people dumping their piddly little niceties on him without even waiting around long enough to explain. Everyone seems pretty openly afraid of him, which was only par for the course when he was like, ten. It doesn't bring him nearly as much satisfaction now. It's not nearly as appreciated as some fucking answers would be. So he shouts at some poor sod to cut the bullshit and tell him exactly what's going on, and what does he get for his efforts? A basket of incredibly useless looking pamphlets. Better than nothing. He picks one up.]

... Huh.

["Monsters". Some people had pretty monstrous quirks, and you could call 'em that, but he never saw the terminology for real people in print. Or maybe it was just some kind of really elaborate creepypasta shit? He might pass the time with that, if he was at all in the mood to do anything but wrench the head off of whoever was responsible for his arrival here. Not before he could get them to send him back. He had exams to study for. Being homeless in some foreign land populated by ass-kissers wasn't gonna facilitate that.]

Tch. Asked for answers, get garbage. Typical. [Out of habit with "garbage", he detonates the hand holding the pamphlet and... gets... nothing. Not even a spark.] What? What the fuck?

[He was sure he dried the salt water off his hands-- not that a little dampness could've stopped him-- and it was humid enough that his explosive fucking sweat should be more than enough to torch one stupid booklet. He tries again. It's offensive to treat himself like some busted glitchy lighter but he's gotta try everything. Soon enough, anyone walking by can see this ornery blond teenager in the middle of the sidewalk shaking out and twitching and flexing his hands, veins nearly popping out his skin as he looses a string of expletives. He doesn't need his quirk, alright, but. This makes shit so much worse. This makes him quirkless.]

[He's not dumb, he gets that the boom-boom likely isn't happening in the foreseeable future if it didn't work the first five times. But the sooner he stops trying to ignite his sweat, the sooner he has to admit it ain't happening. So he can at least spare a few minutes to out some aggravation. This fit is tame by his standards, really: kicking a wall, shouting at his own hand, trying again to light it, kicking a can against the wall, repeat ad nauseum fuck fuck fuck.]

four

[So he kind of got used to his new surroundings, just that little bit more. Enough that he can walk around without feeling like he wants to thrash someone, generally speaking. But generally isn't always, and Bakugou's probably sliding back into that zone of being ticked off as a safe translation for confusion and dread.For good this time. 'Cause just when it seemed like things might be getting better or making some lick of sense, he woke up one morning, rolled over, and found his stomach and sides half-littered with scales.

With that little development he also found the cold was suddenly unbearably worse. So at present he's trudging through the streets in the middle of the brisk morning, arms wrapped around himself and glaring at anyone who dares look in his direction longer than a second. He already feels like a weakling, knees knocking and teeth chattering and where're those ass-kissers now with like, a scarf, or ten blankets or some shit? He shudders, hissing out through his teeth. He's not one to make a show of any weakness but fuck, this isn't a show, his body apparently decided it was done cooperating with him entirely when it decided to grow scales. If that's the case, he's gotta do something-- he decides on some passerby and marches over to them, shuddering with each heavy step. His pants are sloping down on his hips and, scales or no, he has not lost the not-so-charming affect of a high school delinquent: glowering, slouching, rude tonality and all.]

Hey. Oi, yeah, you. [To most people it probably isn't even cold. Bakugou must look like an idiot shuddering in a T-shirt, but a smattering of scales is visible around his collarbone due to the low-cut collar. He rubs over them with his hands before returning to that dumb-looking self-hugging shit attempt at retaining heat. He's careful to speak with his teeth chattering, not wanting to stammer, but sounding and looking mildly threatening all the same. At least, as much as one can seem when quaking like a wet puppy.]

You a native, hah? Any idea where I can at least get some goddamn layers on before my piss freezes over?

[Or, y'know, any kind of shelter... any kind of warmth actually... but the more self-sufficient he can sound the better. It's too much to let his dignity seep out with the heat.]

one!

[mermaidol]

[It takes Totoko a moment to get her head together and respond. She's so dizzy that it feels like her brain is knocking around in her skull, and so far her attempts to stand upright haven't been too successful.

After taking a few deep breaths and bracing herself, she screeches out the reply that seems most appropriate to her.]

Stop screaming!!! And come help me!!!

[Yes, she's screaming herself. No, she doesn't appreciate the irony.]

Jataro Kemuri | Danganronpa Another Episode

[maskinglayer]

[Scenario Two]
[This was honestly the worst, most horrible situation Jataro could imagine being stuck in. There are adults everywhere and here he is without any of the Warriors of Hope or even a Monokuma to help him. Sure, it's not like he couldn't kill adults on his own, but there were so many of them that it seemed like an impossible task to him now. Which is why the child has found himself a small, secluded spot to rest in, crouched behind a bench. Even if someone did come to sit on it they probably wouldn't even notice he was there. Who pays that much attention to a bench?

This whole thing was really bizarre too. He has a couple pamphlets he's looking through, confused by what any of it means or why the adults insisted on him taking them. He was going to become some kind of fur-bearing trout? Or something? This had to be some kind of cruel joke they were playing on him. Par for the course really, it was probably his fault that they decided to do that, but still come on. Fur-bearing trouts don't even exist!]

...do fur-bearing trouts exist...? [Maybe he's wrong about that...]

[Scenario Three]
An arcade...?

[Okay, so some people might think it's weird how they've suddenly found themselves spirited away to an arcade, when last they remember is walking around Bavan, but Jataro is not one of those people. After looking around a little bit, entering further into the game center, the boy quickly forgets about this strange occurrence and instead turns his attention to the games themselves.]

Wow...I've never heard of any of these games before.

[They're similar enough that he barely hesitates trying to play them though. Even though he's just tall enough to reach the controls on the panel, resting his arms on the panels themselves to be able to play comfortably, one can still find the masked kid moving from cabinet to cabinet anyway, happily lost in the immersive world of old school arcade games.]

[Wildcard]

[Or if you have a different idea/want a different prompt, throw it at me!]

wildcard because i need changes now

[expectional]

[While an abandoned warehouse can hardly be considered comfortable or homey, the Warriors' distrust of adults and lack of backup had left them with little other options as far as shelter went in this world. Staying in a park was open and exposed, beyond dangerous, especially now that that dreaded month-end fog had rolled in. The one that they knew for a fact would herald changes for those poor souls whom the fog god had dragged in earlier in the month.]

[And so, the two young Warriors had barricaded themselves inside at the first sign of the fog, hoping that the abandoned and derelict air of the place would continue to keep away unwanted visitors. They'd managed to go the whole month without being bothered so far, but who knew what the fog might drive those scared natives to do. But it wasn't as though they weren't prepared to take care to any guests who might come to call. Using their special brand of Warriors of Hope hospitality, that is.]

[He'd heard that the changes were painful, and so Nagisa had done his best to prepare for the worst in that regard. Mostly by way of stealing bandages and painkillers from various pharmacies around Bavan. But he was pleasantly surprised to find that, so far, he hadn't really had any need of their supplies. Just a towel to wipe his mouth with when many of his teeth had been suddenly forced out by razor sharp fangs, that was all. Shortly after that bloody episode, his eyes had stung sharply, but the pain had passed quickly and all it had done was cause his sclera to turn vividly purple. In the hours that had passed since, little else about the Sage had changed. His nails seemed to be elongating, albeit very slowly and with only a slight amount of discomfort on Nagisa's part. Actually, he found it oddly entertaining to watch them grow and sharpen. It was weird...and it wasn't as though they had much else to entertain themselves with at the moment. He really needed to get his hands on some books...why hadn't he thought to acquire some of those while on his supply-stealing adventures?]

[And so, he'd been content to sit on the floor and stare at his hands for several hours, leaning back against the hard, concrete wall of the warehouse. He thought, perhaps, that that was what was causing the sudden, dull pain in his back. He shifted and stretched a little, trying to get into a more comfortable position. And then shifted some more when his new positioning failed to lessen his discomfort. Perhaps this had nothing to do with the wall after all...]

Nngh...

[As he reached back to feel one of his shoulder blades, Nagisa glanced over at his companion. How you doing there, Jataro? You haven't started bleeding out every orifice while he wasn't looking, have you?]

Totoko Yowai | Osomatsu-san

[mermaidol]

one;

[When Totoko tries to open her eyes, they're so crusted over with saltwater and sand that she wants to cry. Her mouth stings, and a cut sitting squarely in the corner of her lips makes her yelp out in pain as she spits sand. Of course, crying out just agitates it again, and...

Well, soon enough there's a wailing girl with seaweed in her hair waving her arms about with no cares as to who she alerts of her presence. In fact, as confused and alarmed as Totoko is, the more people to come and bring her to safety and pamper her the better, in her opinion. The foreboding atmosphere goes totally over her head.]

Heeeeee-eeeeeeeey! Somebody! I'm hurt, I'm hurt! Please, help!

[...She's a little bruised, at most.]

two;

[She was so wrong about this place.

Some bumps and scrapes are totally worth it to be treated like this. Sure, the literature they're offering seems kind of creepy and occult (she'll be avoiding that, thank you), and she has to wonder about what holds up as 'normal' in this town when they're worried about strangers eating them, but Totoko has put up with worse.

Years of Matsuno's, for example.

Oh yeah, it's all worth it to be treated like a princess.]

I definitely, definitely won't eat you if you can find me something warm and sweet to drink!

One!

[goes_all_out]

[Fiora hears the cries for help and comes running. How could she ignore an obviously scared girl in distress!]

Hey, it's all right! I can take you somewhere to get you all cleaned up, yeah?

Hermione Granger - Harry Potter (Order of Phoenix)

[sortedpriorities]

1.
Hermione coughs her way to consciousness, pushing herself up slowly so she can look around herself. Is this still part of the Ministry? There are so many strange rooms there that a beach and an unpleasant smell doesn't seem so far out of the realm of possibility - though admittedly, she can't imagine what purpose it would serve.
She stands up cautiously, one hand clutched to her aching chest, immediately feeling for her wand - a wand that isn't in her pocket. Hermione's pulse rises, just a little, as she looks around anxiously. If this is the Ministry, then that means she's in danger of immediate attack from Death Eaters. Without a wand and already injured… she doesn't even want to think about what will happen next.

There's no point staying here though. Her wand isn't here. She starts to stagger up the beach. Every step is agony: whatever curse the Death Eater aimed at her was strong.
"Harry," she calls, in a little over a whisper. "Ron? Anyone?"

2

The leaflets Hermione's handed are certainly unusual, and she pauses on a bench to read them. It's clear that somehow she's not in the Ministry, not even in England any more. So the creatures are familiar, but eating human flesh? Hermione shudders.
"Disgusting," she murmurs. But all the same, her mind whirs. Whatever this is, these strangers are at least trying to persuade her of the inevitability that she'll turn into a flesh eating monster - which is just a bit ridiculous, really. But why would they bother with the leaflets? If it's a joke, it's a bit over-elaborate. So then, what? A curse? A potion? Animagi gone wrong? There has to be some sort of way to at least control transformations, right?
Hermione stands up. She obviously has a great deal of research to do if she stands a chance of getting home unscathed. She taps the nearest passerby on their shoulder.

"Excuse me, but can you tell me where the library is?"

1 I give you a former psychic kitten

[tripurragent]

[She's managed to get walking down again, at least. It's very odd being more than a foot tall-though with how 'uniformly sized' humans seemed next to pokemon so far, it had taken a bit to notice. If it wasn't for the sudden change in center of gravity in fact, she wouldn't have noticed at all.

...Well. She would have noticed suddenly wearing layers and layers of clothing and not having fur. That much, she would have noticed.

There was no telling who else was the 'same' as they always were-but for now Espurr chose not to focus on such things, instead focusing on if there was anyone else here at all. She had come from the beach-along with many others, after all. So maybe there would be another here?

The child sees Hermione before she hears her-and as such, what she says largely ignores what Hermione 'whispered' entirely.] Oh-! ...Hello.

...Did you just wake up here?

Vegeta | Dragonball Z

[savagesaiyan]

ONE

[Vegeta's eyes shoot open the moment he regains consciousness. There's wet sand underneath him and freezing water lapping at his legs, helping to numb the throbbing pain he feels all over. He tries to stand and falls back down again, and settles for dragging himself out of the wet and into a sitting position.

His hand flies to his chest; no hole. Either he's alive, or this is hell. Which it very well could be, he realizes a moment later. He can see lights in the distance and smell the salt in the air, but nothing is as sharp as it should be. The roar of the ocean seems muted, every one of his senses dulled. And if this was hell- he reaches for his Ki to warm himself and finds nothing.]

So this is it. The honor of my race in the hands of a fool, and I don't even get to see the outcome.

[He looks at the ocean for a long moment before the cold gets to him, and he forces himself towards the lights.]

TWO

[The shock started wearing off at around the moment the first pamphlet was thrust into his hands. He glanced briefly at the cover before tearing the thing in half and leaping to his feet. The rage was returning in full force. A couple villagers reach for weapons and he's momentarily baffled by the insult.

Who in the galaxy hadn't heard of him? What idiots would dare challenge the Prince of all Saiyans --a nagging voice reminds him that his living subjects are a sum total of one, and he still isn't sure if that includes himself-- and expect to come out alive? Even without his ki... there weren't too many. He could take them.]

You! Tell me where I am at once! Even if this is hell, I expect that you can still feel pain.

Albedo | Xenosaga

[fractured_white]

[Scenario One]

[Something isn't right here. It's not that the beach is unfamiliar, that he doesn't remember the water at all. Oh, those things are wrong, definitely, but the fact that he feels them at all is worse. And the stinging of open wounds, something that shouldn't be possible. It has him on his feet in a matter of seconds, though he stumbles unsteadily. He squints as he looks over his hands, his arms, the bloody cuts and abrasions torn through his sleeves and gloves to expose the source of his lingering pain.]

What's this? Such paltry injuries ought to have healed before I even rose to my feet.

[He turns and looks around, eyes still narrowed as if he's having trouble seeing. Human senses, is this? Not nearly as good as his natural ones, but the scent of gunpowder is unmistakeable. It's...comforting, in a way. Something familiar amidst the strange impossibilities of his situation. Still, he can't help but scowl, especially as he focuses and finds his other powers gone as well.]

Negate my powers, will they? Well, someone sure did feel like playing God. I wonder how they'll feel when the devil they called up has his claws at their throat?

[Scenario Two]

[So, going to sleep in Rubedo's subconscious, only to awake somewhere else entirely? Not going to put Albedo in a good mood. Particularly when the blood and wet sand have thoroughly stained his pure white outfit and the locals don't seem smart enough to keep their distance. He gives some of the pamphlets they've shoved at him a bemused look, before letting out a mocking, malicious sounding laugh.]

Well this is a fine joke. The absurdity of it all...a monster? How can one become what they already are?

[The native who handed him the latest pamphlet backs up and awkwardly tries to explain, only to quickly shut up as Albedo throws the handful back at him.]

Save your snivelling explanations. Monstrosity has nothing to do with fangs or claws, oft-times the worst of them wear a human skin. So if I'm to shed my wool and display the wolf beneath for all to see, is it really such a change?

[Scenario Four (Demon)]

[Albedo knew what to expect as the Fog rolled in, but still he couldn't help but wonder about the specifics. What he would become. The first of the pain was subtle, his ears stinging as they changed shape to a tapered point. His nails, already long and tapered into claws, changed to a dark purple as the much sharper tips cut through the fingertips of his gloves. It was the pain in his back that forced him to double over, although the moan he let out as pure white bat wings, lined down the back with bony spines, ripped messily from his back sounded disturbingly pleased. A barbed tail, similarly pale and dripped with blood, swept behind him, even as four bone white horns, tips gradually turning brilliant red, curled from his head. When the changes finished, his pale skin had gone the same shade of white as his wings, and a forked tongue flicked out of his mouth to taste the blood running down his face.]

The devil stands in plain sight, hmm? Well, Rubedo...seems we're two of a kind after all. The white devil to the red dragon...a pity you aren't here to see it for yourself.

[His new wings fold and his tail curls around his feet as the newly changed demon looks up at the sky.]

Then again, my deluded yet precious other half...you always did enjoy your ability to pass among humans, didn't you? I wonder what you'd say were your inner monster put on such clear display.

2

[goes_all_out]

No one is really that monstrous.

[Wholesome JRPG Protagonist here and ready to debate!]

Your heart is still human, isn't it?

Cal Zabo | MCU

[the_war_won]

[ONE]

(All in all he's probably cleaner now. Minus the sand that's been pact into his every pore.)

Cal's thoughts, the world around him, take awhile to coalesce into something tangible. Pain is real. His joints, the throbbing in his head, the sand that's crept under the gauze on his hands. Just a jumble of sensations that don't add up to a whole. His own anger feels distant if only in this moment.

And then it comes back to him, the world around him is now in sharp focus. After so many days in a windowless room the sun's glare is nearly unbearable.

(When THEY tossed him into the ocean, unconscious and bloody did THEY expect him to sink or swim? He knows his arrival here can't be by chance. Not when the only person who had access to his confined room was a teleporter with a grudge. Did he act alone? Did his wife even know where he was?)

He tries to pull himself up to his knees, so he's on all fours looking for all the world like a drowned rat when he realizes he's not alone on the beach. He calls out to the stranger and winces. His throat feels like it's full of sand.

"Help?"

[FOUR] [MONSTER: TROLL]

(After he's had some time to adjust)

“Uh hey!” Cal waves, at six feet tall and radiating with manic energy he's hard to miss. “You uh, look a bit like you know what's going on here- more than me at least! Could you do me a favor? I need another pair of eyes.”

Not waiting for answer he steps up to the stranger, sticks his thumb in his own mouth to display his pearly whites.

“Give it to me straight. Lower jaw: do my teeth look gnarly or what?” His voice is muffled but clear enough.

Nothing looks amiss to his own previous inspection but god, they ache something fierce! Their shape is wrong in his mouth and throughout the day he's found himself breathing with his lips parted to ease the sensation. A second opinion would be greatly appreciated.

This could be a symptom of any number of changes, according to the literature he was so helpfully provided with. One pamphlet described it as a 'second teething' and warned it could last for months. He would really like to get this done with as soon as possible. Eating with his mouth like this is really weird.