TEST DRIVE MEME

[ryslighelpers]

TEST DRIVE MEME: MARCH

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

[goryteller]

[Katurian is very familiar with that glassy-eyed look, so much so that he ignores the first few sentences in Mitsuhide's reply in an attempt to find a better, more understandable way to convey his pain. Should he say something about how even the idea of standing up makes him wince? Should he simply say that dullness is preferable to pain?

By the time Katurian returns to the present, the strange man is talking about skin, apologies, his name. Mee-su-hee-day. Katurian practices each syllable silently, his jaw working automatically. It's not a language he recognizes, Japanese. All he knows is that it sounds foreign. Far away.

What the man says next drains all the color from his face.]

No, no, no.

[He shakes his head and waves his hands, as though his movements could dampen down the stranger's words. You did something. List of bodies.]

It's a mistake. Or -- not a mistake, but a --

[He struggles for the words.]

-- a misunderstanding? A misunderstanding. They think I've hurt people, but I haven't done anything. [Hesitation.] Or at least, I think they think that. They might just be looking for an excuse to get rid of me, for all I know.

[He inhales, trying to get his voice to slow down. When he speaks again, his words are more regular. Controlled.]

That's why I need to know what I'm doing here. You're a prisoner too, you said?

[ufufufufu]

[ There is that tilt of his head -- a dog hearing a funny sound and attempting to hear it better. His ears give a little flick as his eyebrows come together. He looks back down in the sand about where his stick is. Not quite like he's grown bored of the conversation but -- oh, he leans down to find another shell and turns it over in his hand.

Brushing off the sand on it, he squints at the color and shape. Rubbing his thumb along the side, it looks like it has a few cracks but still quite good. Holding it out to him, Mitsuhide continues thinking on what to say.

There is nothing else that he can give the person. If he were to embrace him or pat his head, he thinks that might hurt with all those injures. And the stranger took the first shell he gave, so another shell will be just as good to convey how sorry he is about how he isn't enjoying everything. ]

I was a prisoner, but I killed a lot of people. Unlike you. I thought that my lord wanted me to spread the blood of the innocent around. I thought that was what he was telling me to do so that I could see him once more. But unfortunately, that isn't what he was saying at all. In fact, he was saying nothing to me. I just got it into my head that he was saying things that he wasn't saying. [ Mitsuhide makes a "meh" gesture with his both hands. Like that is something that happens all the time. Because it is something that happens all the time. ]

Why do they want to get rid of you? If they wanted to get rid of you, there are much kinder ways to do it. It looks more like they want to punish you first for something... for a misunderstanding. It doesn't look like they're going to be understanding about it at all. No, not at all. [ A giggle. ] Humans are really dedicated to their causes, aren't they?

[goryteller]

[Another shell. Another offering. Again, Katurian takes the gift without hesitation, but this time, it's not a mindless decision -- it's an appreciative one. He knows that the shell isn't supposed to be a trinket. It's an apology, a comfort, a connection. It's the sort of thing that makes him feel all warm inside, like he's just downed a cup of hot cocoa. It's too soft, too kind to be a feeling he ever gets from writing.

It also softens the whole casual admission of mass murder.

Katurian nods and swallows, doing his best to keep his facial expression positive, yet neutral. He's not sure if he believes him. After all, delusions can be all-encompassing, can't they? The strange man doesn't necessarily need to have killed people to believe he's killed people, much like how hearing voices doesn't mean that your "lord" is communicating with you over a long distance.]

They wanted me to sign a confession. [He frowns, recognizing that he may need to elaborate.] You know, um, a piece of paper that says that everything they're doing is okay, that they've caught the right person for the right crime. You can't execute someone if they don't say they're guilty. [Execute. Even saying that word makes his throat dry.] It's bureaucratic bullshit so that they can sleep better at night, or -- or fill out less paperwork or something.

[He thinks about questioning the implication that Mitsuhide is not human, but decides against it. He's clearly unstable -- mass-murderer or not -- and Katurian doesn't want to be the one to wake a sleepwalker. He bites his lip.]

Thank you for the shells. They're beautiful. [Another pause, another hesitation.] My name is Katurian, by the way. Do you mind helping me up?

[ufufufufu]

I've never signed anything like that before. [ The modern world continues to be a magnificently confusing place. ] If I admit what I have done to a large group of people, isn't that enough? Do I really have to write it down? [ But he supposes that if this person is not willing to write down what he's "done," the people cannot feel like they've done what is "right." His tail gives another flick. That's really confusing to him. No one is right in these sort of things, right? No, not at all. So a person just needs to live with what they've done. On both sides.

Crouching down, he rests his elbows on his legs and holds his head as he looks him over. ]

That sounds really complicated. [ His ears fan out as they start flapping at the compliment. This is the sort of compliment that he can accept -- saying that the item he gave is beautiful or worth having rather than thanking him in particular. Yes, yes, Katurian would have found the shells all on his own, probably! ] You're most welcome to them.

[ A pause as he looks over his claws. They've gotten a little long. He frowns a little as grabbing onto someone is tough that way, isn't it? Even though Shootie asked him not to and to go to someone who could properly trim them, he can't really leave this person like this while he does it, right? Right. Reaching, he grabs onto his claws -- cutting deep into his hand before snapping-ripping them off. It gouges the inside of his palm and almost cuts his fingers off but at least one hand is free to help.

He reaches out to grab onto Katurian's arm to carefully haul him up. ] Upsie daisies, as they say!

[goryteller]

[Even though Katurian assumes that Mitsuhide is wearing elaborate makeup and a costume, there's still something about the way he tears into his hand that makes him shudder. Maybe it's because his ears looked so life-like just moments ago, or maybe there was something about the sounds (the crunch, the tear) that were a little too organic.

Relax, he tells himself. Nobody would actually hurt themselves like that, especially not to help a stranger stand up.

He lets himself get pulled to his feet, wincing despite the care that Mitsuhide takes. Once he's finally upright, he doubles over with his eyes squeezed shut, taking a moment to fight off the pain. It really does feel like every inch of his skin is on fire, or perhaps like his muscles are actually jagged rocks scraping against his bones. He speaks through gritted teeth.]

That -- might be enough, telling -- telling a large group of people. That might count.

[He steels himself with a deep breath, then straightens out his back.]

O-Or maybe you'd need to write it down anyway, just to be thorough. For, like, record keeping purposes. [An embarassed pause.] I don't really k-know how those sorts of laws work. It didn't matter until recently.

[He puffs out a pained laugh, wrapping his arms around his chest. For the first time, he really takes in the landscape. Even the trees beyond the beach look unfamiliar.]

God, I'm freezing. Did you wake up here, too?

[ufufufufu]

[ He flicks his hand a few times, ignoring the splattering of black blood. Mitsuhide wanders off as Katurian talks -- his ears lifted to show that he's still listening. Digging through the sand, he finds more shells. Brushing off the sand, he walks to the water to clean them off.

Instead of handing them to him, he starts to stack the lot on top of his head. He nods in what probably is a sympathetic manner as he giggles with each shell dropping on top of Katurian's head and proceeds to fall of back into the water. ]

I didn't worry about it at all, either. [ He lightly pats his shoulders. ] Not here, but I did wake up. There is probably an abandoned building that you can rest in. I'd offer you food but those wounds are much more important. Don't worry! I've learned how to do medical care! [ Mitsuhide announces with a bit more mania than what he probably means to say. Laughter starts spilling out at the idea of sewing and fixing someone up! How fun! How fun! For someone that has a great talent at carving up people, he gets to get better at putting them back together! ]

Maybe we'll set a fire, too. Fires are so fun. The way they burn... I love them... how fun...! You're really fun! [ And the last shell in his hand is dropped on Katurian's head. ]

[goryteller]

[As a man of infinite patience, Katurian doesn't complain when Mitsuhide starts plopping sea shells on top of his head. He does, however, flinch when the other man first reaches towards his head. It's nothing personal. Katurian has always been a bit twitchy. ]

You're very fun, too. But let's put off starting a fire for now, yeah?

[Back into protective guardian mode. It's impossible, after all, not to compare Mitsuhide to his brother. Katurian is certain that if Michal ever found himself with a handful of seashells, his head would be getting a similar treatment.]

Are you sure you're -- [able to provide medical care without completely losing touch with reality?] -- willing to help me like that? You've probably got other things you've been meaning to do today.

[ufufufufu]

You're cold. A house fire would warm you up.

[ Spoken in a calm enough tone as he giggles at the thought of setting a house on fire. He hasn't done that in the entire time that he's been here. His tail gives a little wag. Maybe the fire would catch onto other houses -- his eyes start to shine with the thought of everything burning.

But he pauses in those fantasies. ]

Hm? [ His eyes dart from side to side, mulling over the question quickly. A good question. Is he willing to sew this person up when he could just as easily bask in the scent of blood and pain that he's in? Maybe? He squints. ] Oh. I suppose I do. [ Death, death, death, death, afternoon tea, death, death -- his day does get a little full. Most of those are fantasized murders but still, it takes up a day to think of how he could possibly convey his love to a friend through violence and bleeding pieces.

One never knows when they're going to have to murder their friends. ]

But I can make some time. You're someone in need, yes? Yes. [ A beat. Because, speaking of killing: ] Do you think that I won't kill you? You're very calm. It makes me think you have an unrealistic idea of me. I'm wanting to be helpful but at the same time... I'd rather not be thought too positively. It's a paradox? Is that the word I am seeking, I wonder?

[goryteller]

[His heart drops.]

I would -- hope you won't kill me.

[He chooses his words carefully, his eyes continuously scanning Mitsuhide's face for any changes in his expression. His face is paler now. His shoulders are stiffer.]

I mean, if you wanted to kill me, I wouldn't have much of a choice. Would I? Not with these injuries. Besides, I don't know where I am, and t-there's no one else on this beach.

[He pauses to roll his tongue, trying to build up the saliva that is rapidly evaporating from his mouth. ]

So I'm hoping you won't kill me, I'm hoping for it, and if you did want to do it, I'd like to think you'd have done it before giving me all those lovely shells. I think you would rather help me than hurt me.

[ufufufufu]

[ His hands open in surrender at the hope that he wouldn't kill Katurian. Eyes roll up in an almost comical fashion if they were not talking literal life and death. Mitsuhide shakes his head once that the other really didn't have much of a choice if he did want to kill him. That alone makes him start to giggle just a little under his breath. A soft click of his mouth to agree that there is no one around to save him.

Things are, indeed, looking quite bleak.

He leans forward with his hand lifting before pausing at the comment of "lovely shells." Leaning backwards, his shoulders drop as he makes a pained sort of sound. His eyes slide away from Katurian's face as he frowns. Right. Right. That would be kind of rude. Just a little rude to kill him after helping him find all those shells.

A defeated sigh. ]

Mmn, yes, it seems I want to help you more than hurt you. So it would seem. So it would seem. So! That's off the table, then. Off the table.

[goryteller]

Were you seriously planning on murdering me?

[He can't keep himself from blurring it out. Although he knew intellectually that his life might be at risk, he didn't feel the full emotional enormity of the situation until Mitsuhide retreated. It's a little like calmly avoiding a car accident, only for all of that extra adrenaline to kick in the moment you put your car in park.

He regrets the outburst immediately, bringing his fist to his mouth and biting down. He sucks in a breath before continuing.]

Sorry, sorry, s-sorry, I am -- I am glad that it is off the table. I am very glad. Thank you.

[ufufufufu]

Planning? No.

[ The words barely had any space between them to indicate that there even was a pause between them. His ears lift a little at the idea that he plans anything. The only planning that he has ever done has been for Nobunaga.

He doesn't look particularly offended by the outburst -- his tail wags side-to-side as his head tilts in confusion. ]

You're welcome. It would be very rude. Very rude, indeed, to help you find all those shells and then kill you. I'd have to hold onto them, then, and that was hardly the point of giving them. [ His hands once more open before he smiles. He considers his smile a wide and friendly one, but it always has a bit too much teeth and the corners tremble like he may start laughing at any second. ]

[goryteller]

[Katurian watches the tail swish swish swish, once again mesmerized by the realism of it all. The tail, the ears, the violently declawed fingers. Can a costume really do that much? Mitsuhide is weird (and quite clearly crazy), but is he weird enough to have battery powered prosthetics?

But what's the alternative? he wonders.]

V-Very rude indeed. [He steadies himself with a quick inhale and exhale.] And I haven't known you for very long, but you don't seem like the rude type. Not to me.

[Wasn't very something else wrong with what Mitsuhide said, something that was eclipsed by the threat to his life?

Oh right.]

And, um, it's kind enough for you to offer, but I'm not so cold you need to burn a house down for me. Maybe a blanket would suffice? Or, um, a warm building that isn't on fire, like one with heating. Or something. Where were you planning on fixing me up?

[ufufufufu]

Certainly not what I try to be. But rudeness is in the eye of the beholder.

[ He offers a little shrug. Like when he would give gossip that he heard from one daimyou to the other, it was seen as rude. It wasn't like it was a secret! Why shouldn't he let someone know what is being said. His tail gives a little violent flick. The emotions and anxieties of humans is something that he will never fully understand.

But he likes this human. He smells of fear and pain yet speaks politely and calm. His eyes slide away as he lifts his chin to take another small sniff. No? A little -- maybe moderate -- fear toward him, but not enough to ruin the conversation. His tail swishes about happily as he takes in the scent and decides that it is at "reasonable levels" for a new friend. ]

Is that so? One day someone will be cold enough to let me burn down a house. [ Mitsuhide promises himself this -- because sometimes, one has to treat themselves to a house fire. ] A compromise? Perhaps we can find a wood stove that I could burn something in? Then we have a fire in a house like I want, but no walls on fire like you want.