graveyardsmash | TEST DRIVE MEME

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TEST DRIVE MEME

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.

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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?

...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?]

[The shadow creature is easily one of creepier monsters around. You can't trust anything that walks around even though you can see his ribcage, and those eyes… Raynie reminds herself it's probably not his fault – hence the "no offense" – but still.

Her eyes widen when he speaks and she turns sharply to give him a better look. It's just her imagination, right? She wished to see him again, waited every day by another billboard, and now she's so lost she'd see familiar faces everywhere. That must be it, because there's no way he'd be in a place like this, in this form.

And yet, Raynie startles when he glances back at her.]

Uh – that's good.

[What is she doing? Raynie narrows her eyes and continues with renewed strength in her voice:]

Hey, can you move into the light?

[She just needs to be certain she's imagining things, and everything will be alright.]

[The shade's silent for a moment - then shakes his head, wordlessly.]

[It seems that's not a no, because he does move toward the edge of the shadows - but instead of stepping out, he extends one arm, hand palm-up. If it weren't for the claws and pitch-black skin, it'd look nearly human.]

[That is, until it starts to smoke.]

[The shade yanks it back in barely a moment after.] I can't. [Wry.]

[Raynie winces at the sight - that looks painful - and again when he replies. The voice is slightly off, but still too familiar to write off as wishful thinking...]

Yikes! Yeah, don't come out. [A pause.] Make room then, I'm coming to you -

[She's just gonna step over and get in the shade's space. He'll probably think she's weird, but whatever, she'll just say "sorry, for a moment I thought you're someone I know..."]

[For a moment the shade's tendrils still, tense, as Raynie approaches. But they relax back into movement even before she reaches him.]

[His gaze, on the other hand, flickers to the side. It stays there as he hesitates - then he lifts his eyes again, to meet Raynie's. (Probably. It's hard to tell.)]

...I'm sorry.

[He never did forget. But that doesn't mean he fulfilled his promise, either.]

[Raynie freezes when she finally gets a proper look at him. At the first moment she still can't believe it, staring in stunned silence as if her slightest word or movement will make the apparition disappear, but the look he levels at her seals it.]

- Stocke?!

[She doesn't know how, nor does she care at the moment. It's really him, she should've trusted her instincts and known right away. Who else would acknowledge a long-due reunion with curt, wry remarks and "I'm sorry"?]

What - [Her voice cracks. Then, louder:] What're you apologizing for?

[Raynie moves without thinking. This isn't how she imagined it; sometimes she thought she'd cry (prettily, and never be less eloquent for it), at other times she'd imagine telling a witty joke, but it was always heartwarming and there were definitely no shadows or extra bits involved.

There were hugs, though. And depending on how solid Stocke is, it can into reality or make this situation ten times more awkward.]

[Stocke staggers a step back and lets out a soft huff of breath as Raynie jumps at him, her arms wrapping around him. For a second his own hands hover awkwardly just to her sides.]

[Then he hugs her back, his eyes sliding shut.]

[Stocke... Stocke'd honestly never thought he'd see Raynie again. That he's wrong about it hurts; seeing her here is knowing what'll happen to her in a month, and that's not even the only reason. But at the same time - telling himself he's not glad he's wrong would be a lie so patently false you'd probably see it on his face.]

...I didn't keep my promise.

[The tendrils are cold, like mist. She doesn't care; if anything her arms tighten around him when he hugs her back.]

That's –

[His promise… she didn't even think about it until Stocke had said it, too engulfed in the mix of shock and joy and damnmit, now her eyes are starting to sting. The hug lingers as she works up an answer.]

When the fight's over, right? That's what you said.

[Raynie sniffles and pulls back rather reluctantly, keeping her hands on his shoulders. She manages to crack a faint smile.]

Well, I don't really understand what's going on yet, but – seems to me there's still fighting to do.

[As Raynie pulls away, Stocke's hands drop. One stays for a moment on her arm, sharp claws and all - it's careful, for all that - before falling back to his side. He doesn't object to the contact she keeps.]

[The fight for Alistel, for Vainqueur, that's over. The fight for Ryslig...]

[The shade's eyes flicker, caught between dim and bright. Finally, softly,] ...you're not wrong. Though it's not all the kind of fighting we're used to.

[The corner of his mouth quirks up to match Raynie's expression, eyes shading to a gentle gray.] I'll have to keep it after, then.

[Only now what? He'd resigned himself - no, he should at least not lie to himself. Decided that he'd be staying in Ryslig, after more than two years a monster.]

[...it's a problem for when they have options, not now. Stocke boxes it, and the guilt hanging off it like a funeral shroud, away.]

R-right –

[Uh oh, here come the sobs. Raynie covers her mouth and looks away until she's certain her emotions won't get the better of her.]

Mm, after! [She looks back to Stocke. Until that day comes, I've got your back.] We just need to work this one out.

[Easier said than done, that much is obvious. But Raynie believes in him. She rubs her tearful eyes, pats her cheeks and takes a deep breath.]

So! [That's better. In a few moments she'll stop sounding like she's coming down with a cold.] Are we gonna have to stand here until the sun sets?

[Stocke looks away himself, tendrils winding slowly, to give her some illusion of privacy. He doesn't comment on her tears. It's what he'd appreciate, if their situations were reversed.]

[It's a struggle not to keep glancing at her, though.]

[His tendrils perk at the question, and he turns back, with a short shake of his head.] ...it's not so convenient as at night, but I can find a way around.

Yeah? [He didn't want to come out earlier. Maybe it's because of how he looks now, but he was smoking.] Alright then.

[Ryanie steps into the sunlight. She starts walking away from the billboard when she realizes she has no idea where to go, or if Stocke can even follow. She stops and turns back around.]

Sorry, Stocke. I just need to get away from... [A vague hand gesture to their surroundings, the piles of fliers and angry looking locals.] all this. You can always stand in my shadow, right?

[Stocke dips his head.] If it comes to it. [But he's smiling again, faintly.] ...don't worry about me. I'll follow.

[He's good at being a shadow.]

[And he does trail after her. If Raynie's not paying attention, he seems only ever to end up in shadows, even when a street broken by sunlight shouldn't let him. But if Raynie is - conveniently, quietly, something always casts a shadow just when he needs it. A curtain from an open window flutters upward, apparently without any wind, to throw a line between the darkness cast by two buildings. A messy stack of discarded fliers darts into the air.]

[And when there's nothing convenient around - that's when Stocke flits, momentarily, into some pitch-black, inhuman shape. It's barely a flash at the corner of someone's eye - it vanishes into the ground, or into the side of a building, reappears past the blaze of sunlight, and is Stocke again so fast it might almost seem like illusion.]

[Though on second thought... with all this shapeshifting, are you quite sure this is Stocke, Raynie?]

[Either way, after a short while the shade volunteers,] ...I know somewhere safe. [He doesn't add anything else; if Raynie doesn't take him up on it right now, he's plenty content to just tail her.]

[Raynie is, in fact, paying attention – even more than usual. Stocke's new… form is not something she can just take in stride. She doesn't give the conveniently casted shadows much thought, though. Stocke was good at everything, always knew exactly what to do; it's hardly surprising he excels at being a shadow-monster-thing, too.

She nods when he offers a place to go. It beats wandering around aimlessly.]

Lead the way, then -

[Now tailing him, it's easier to notice the black shape as it slips in and out of the ground. Raynie almost thought it was her imagination earlier.]

What the – [She can't help but shriek.] don't – don't just DO that without warning!

[Stocke's head jerks around, startled, tendrils jagging out from his back. It takes him a second to catch Raynie's expression - then something unreadable flickers over his expression, and he inclines his head mutely.]

[Warning Raynie, apparently, means he glances back at her and waits until he's sure she's expecting it each time.]

[The surroundings, meanwhile, start to slip. The buildings are worn down - some damaged as if in siege, though that damage doesn't look new, and rebuilt in patchwork. The streets are closer together, the alleyways off them cramped; Stocke relaxes slightly as the density leaves less room for sunlight to fall to ground level. It means, conveniently enough, that he also stops dropping in and out of shadow form.]

[There's a red neon flicker off the walls some way in, faint while the sun hasn't yet set. Stocke pauses in front of a certain bar - leaning against the building, just next to the door, while he waits for Raynie to catch up.]

[The first few times it takes Raynie a moment to understand what he wants before she gives a tiny nod. Expecting it doesn't make it easier to witness, just confirming it feels uncomfortable, but she keeps that to herself this time.

She checks the new area curiously. A questionable part of town it seems, but that doesn't bother her. She's seen worse - lived in worse.]

"Devil's Nest", huh? [Raynie plants a hand on her hip and looks the building up and down. A seedy tavern it is, then!] Looks kind of -

[She glances back at Stocke and grins.]

Shady.

[Yes, it's terrible, but she's trying to lighten up the mood.]

[Why.]

[Stocke gives her a faintly disgusted look. He's not serious about it, though; his tendrils flick with too much good spirit behind him, in and out of the wall.]

[He pushes himself upright, shouldering the door open and waiting for Raynie to enter before letting it fall shut.]

[The inside is... oddly quiet, for a seedy tavern. Maybe because it's still daylight outside? A spiraling metal staircase curves up behind the counter, as does a passageway to some back rooms and what look like stairs down - it's the former Stocke glances at, eyes flickering upward.]

[Stocke's not often loud at the best of times, but he's at half-volume even for himself when he says,] ...the others are probably still asleep.

[Sounds like he knows this place a bit better than as just another tavern.]

The others… friends of yours? Are they also, you know –

[Another vague hand gesture at Stocke, trying to look nonchalant. Some seedy taverns hide a Resistance, others host a bunch of monsters, no big deal! Stocke is one and Raynie is supposed to join them, but she's got this! She's ready, she's on top of things, she –

She really hopes this place has quality drinks.]

Monsters. [Stocke finishes. His tone expressionless.] ...they are. [And then, after a moment and a small tilt of his head, his voice back to faintly amused,] On both counts.

[The shade settles to lean on the wall next to the bar counter. Stocke, are you just allergic to chairs?]

[Regardless, he nudges one out for Raynie if she wants it - without even thinking about it, he does it with telekinesis. His eyes flicker static in a wince as he realizes, and his gaze jumps to watch Raynie's expression.]

[Whatever her reaction is, he'll eventually ask:] Alistel? [That she can ask him anything she wants in return, or even without return - that's a given.]

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[Having been eying the arcade with a similarly underwhelmed air, Asaka's overhearing of the somewhat brash remark turns her attention to the one who said it, and she purses her lips a bit before running a hand over the pinball machine herself.]

I'm not sure I'd say it like that, but it's not a domain fit for a god. Shouldn't a being with the kind of power they say they have show it in their domain?

[She sounds thoughtful, more than anything. If she joins either of these sides, she wants the promises that have been whispered in her dreams held to, especially the ones about leaving this place.]

Maybe they aren't as powerful as they say.

[Well, this one had enough power to at least pull her here without asking, but that only gives Raynie less reasons to trust it. "Seek us out", yeah right. The only thing she wants to seek is the exit.

When she speaks again, frustration is etched into every word.]

But hey, nothing else about this place makes sense, so why not a god's domain with little mechanicals and -

[She prods the pinball machine again, not very gently. The flipper swat the ball before it falls down.]

I don't even know what that is.

Then the ones following them should be prepared for a shock. [Asaka makes the remark a little imperiously, dropping her hand from the machine and glancing over to the little robots as if making sure they're not somehow being overheard. These gods don't seem to give much of a reason to follow past their promises, unless these people have just taken up with this one because he isn't the Fog God.

The word "mechanicals" makes Asaka frown a little in her own confusion, but it's obvious enough that she's referring to the robots that it doesn't bear remarking on. The pinball machine, however, is a stranger thing to not know, and Asaka takes a step up to it with the air of someone who's at least familiar with the cabinet, if not experienced.]

It's a pinball machine. They're not as popular as they used to be, but given the rest of the technology here, I'm surprised they even have this. If he's trying for a spectacle, though, the robots would be much more impressive to focus on.

No kidding.

[One final swat at the pinball machine before turning away. It's pretty repetitive; Raynie doesn't get why they would be popular in the first place. This land is far more advanced than she used to... except when it came to those machines. The lack of magic may be the reason, but if they made horseless carriages you'd think they'd come up with some form of thaumatech, too.]

I beat bigger things than those "robots".

It's not a matter of size, but technology. Robots are more complex than a pinball machine, and by this peninsula's standards? It would probably be a pipe dream to see even something like those. Spectacles are about showcasing the unexpected.

[Asaka makes the point as if it's obvious, and with the engaged tone of one who's considered what would make a good spectacle a bit more thoroughly than is maybe necessary. Still, they are a little underwhelming size-wise, and she looks one up and down for a moment before continuing.]

I wonder if they have any more specialised models than those.

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TEST DRIVE MEME

Raynie | Radiant Historia

2; SKIDS IN HERE hello

HI!!

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