TEST DRIVE MEME

[ryslighelpers]

TEST DRIVE MEME: MAY

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 of the natives are trying to get on your good side with 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? Feel free to pick any monster type for this prompt, but note that you may not get the same one in game.

Comments

[gourmandized]

[Is this guy for real? He's got this look about him...she's not sure how to describe it. Either he's playing dumb (and playing her for a fool), or he really doesn't get why you don't talk like this to a total stranger.

She crosses her arms, resting them on her chest. There are several different ways one might broach the topic of Ima's weight with her, and while she can appreciate a few of them, this sure as hell isn't one of that number.]

Whoever taught you how to speak to women really dropped the ball.

[hearthebell]

[The shabby wings adorning L's back shift, the singed-looking feathers rustling. There's a strange, feverish heat that seems to radiate off of him, though he doesn't appear to sweat. His already round eyes widen further, stretching to saucer-sized proportions.]

I'm not sure what you mean by that. If you were a man, weighing what you do, I would want to know the same thing.

[He squints. He likes numbers, and he likes figuring things out. It adds up to a recipe even Ima is guaranteed to hate.]

Three-hundred seventy five? Wait... you're American. Converted, that's... eight-hundred fifteen, point seven? Pounds?

[gourmandized]

[That's it! One should start each day by asking oneself "what am I going to put up with today?" Ima does, and her answer to the question is "not this bullshit." Eight hundred and...how tall does he think she is? Six foot six?

In any case, he's about to find out for sure. Pushing off the bench, Ima rises to her full height, all five feet and five inches of her. The speed with which she clears the distance between them might just surprise him, and there are only inches between him and her once she comes to a stop. Ima's blood is practically boiling in her veins as she looks him up and down.]

You should shut your mouth before I flatten your ass, scrawny.

[hearthebell]

[She stands about five inches shy of L's height, but it probably seems like less, given his considerable slouch. He blinks as she closes in on him, wings flaring, a slight gust of heat originating from his willowy form. It's puzzling, because usually, wings flapping would cause the surrounding air to feel cooler, instead.

If Ima's blood is practically boiling, his might literally be.]

You seem really angry. Was I off by that much?

[He tilts his head, reassessing. He is visually weighing her. L has a way of really making people feel it when he looks at them, regardless of the reason he's doing so.]

[gourmandized]

I'm angry because you're treating me like some public exhibition!

[She jabs a finger at his chest. There's a difference between Ima choosing to exhibit herself under particular circumstances and random people approaching her on the street to treat her like some kind of novelty. The first allows her to exert some level of power over what's bound to happen to her anyway, but the second? The second is an affront. She was just sitting on a public bench minding her own damn business when this jackass with the wings and body heat like a furnace decided to act like he'd come to see the show.]

And as far as I can tell? You didn't buy a ticket. If you want to stand here and play 'guess your weight', you're gonna pay me for the privilege. Otherwise you can piss off.

[hearthebell]

[If Ima's fingertip makes contact with L's chest, it'll knock abruptly against bone with nothing but skin and the material of his shirt to cushion the impact.

He seems surprised at her words, but it's a testament to L's oddness and audacity that he is reaching into his pockets, pulling out crumpled bills. He no longer has a vampire's power of persuasion, but he still is a workaholic with two jobs and fairly simple tastes. The result is more money than he can reasonably spend.]

OK. How many guesses can I buy with this much?

[He hasn't even counted the money. By all appearances, he stuffed it in his pockets this morning from some crumpled source without even looking.]

[gourmandized]

[Holy hell is this guy bony. And yet he's acting as though he has a right to comment on anyone's figure...

What he does next is too much for Ima to bear. How could he possibly have taken her condemnation as an actual request for money rather than a demand to fuck off? And the sheer amount of money he's offering! She can't help but assume he's some rich manchild on par with Dandy Mott, someone who thinks he can buy absolutely anything and get away with everything if he flashes enough cash. This guy thinks he has the right to accost her on the damn street and demand her weight simply because he's wealthy? Her existence isn't a damn commodity!

Ima came from a toxic, well-to-do family who thought their money made them better than the common people, and she hated every minute of that life. She was infantilized and then murdered by the kind of person she assumes L must be. She wants to cry, to yell, to knock this guy on his ass.

What she actually does is slap the money right out of his hand. The bills flutter to the ground.]

As if I'd take your money!

[She tightly presses her lips together, trying to hold back a scream or a sob or some combination of the two.]

Now get the hell away from me!

[hearthebell]

[L's spindly fingers snatch backward as her meatier hand flies at him, smacking the bills to the ground where they flutter or roll depending on their degree of waddedness. He blinks owlishly, by all appearances genuinely surprised at her reaction.]

Then, you... don't want money...?

[He shakes his head, bewildered, knuckle wandering to his mouth where he gnaws at it. He's actually interacted with Dandy, though neither of them have any clue of the connection; in fact, they were both vampires, so clearly they have something in common. Appearance-wise, they're almost perfect opposites, however; L's appearance is languid and shabby, from his pallor to his plain clothes to wings that look like they might be falling apart.

He takes a conscious step back, as though that's what she meant by "getting the hell away." The money remains on the ground.]

You made it sound like you did. You can have it... you're hungry, right?

[He says it like it goes without saying that she must be.]

[gourmandized]

[Ima's as hungry as anyone who'd gone a whole day on half a sandwich would be. Still, she'd literally rather starve to death than take anything from L, sspecially after that last question. He doesn't know how little she's eaten today, he just assumed she'd be hungry regardless. Sure, Ima eats a lot, but what a shitty thing to say to someone in the way he did...]

Look here, jackass: you've had your fun. You got to mock the fat lady, ha-ha, how original. But I said get the hell away from me. [She points behind him, into the distance.] So start walking before I deck you.

[And she wants to. Boy oh boy does she want to punch him in the face. At the same time, though, she doesn't. Not truly. She's not violent by nature, and after what she's recently experienced she doesn't want to see any more brutality, whether it comes from her or against her. Just leave her to sit in peace.]

[hearthebell]

Mock the...?

[Dark eyes widen.]

I didn't even notice you were...

[No, that won't work, that's a stretch of a lie even for him.]

...sensitive about your weight.

[He takes another step back, carefully putting himself out of arm's reach.]

You don't have to answer anything. I guess everything I would have asked is clear, now. You can just have the money, and think of it as charity?

[He seems to think that this is not only not an insult, but placating. He wears the same mystified, bewildered expression, but he's interacted with Ima enough by this point to preemptively curl his shoulders forward and turn sideways, as though to protect his chest from getting poked again.]

[gourmandized]

[She's not even going to dignify his shitty coverup attempt with a response. One would have to be entirely, literally blind not to notice her size, and noticing it isn't the problem. Acknowledging it to her face isn't the problem, either. She's not sensitive in the way he thinks; she's fine with the topic coming up in conversation, along with simple curiosity. But the way he went about it from start to finish was one long string of insults, whether that was intentional on his part or not.]

I'd sooner starve than accept charity from you.

[And the cherry on top of the whole mess is the money. Ima might have eventually realized L's problem is one of social graces rather than malice, but once he took that cash out of his pocket that possibility vanished in a puff of smoke. As far as she's concerned he's merely this place's monstrous, skin-and-bones version of Dandy Mott, someone who thinks he can buy as much of her as he wants for the right price. She's suffered more than enough at the hands of one such a person, and she'll suffer no more.

Sorry, stranger, but Ima has too much self-respect to play along and meekly trot out a number for you. Does she look like she's on stage, accepting customers?]

Now take your filthy money and go!

[hearthebell]

[L's wings are more expressive than he is. They jerk in a startled fashion at the harshness of her words, and a crease appears in a brow that's really too smooth for someone in his mid-twenties. He's utterly blindsided by the apparent fact that his attempt to soothe her anger has fallen astoundingly flat.]

It could be anyone's money, couldn't it? It's on the ground now, and I'm not going to pick it up again... I'm making more tonight. And then tomorrow at my other job.

[He spends it on cake and the occasional new set of clothes, when his are destroyed by life in Ryslig or worn threadbare, whichever comes first. The set he's currently wearing looks like it's getting close to that point, if only because the shirt had to be torn to accommodate his wings and he doesn't sew, so there are no finished seams. Ultimately, after those needs have been taken care of, there's a lot leftover.

He stares for a moment, considering logistics, before he reaches down, scoops up the bills, and places them on the bench nearest him, adjacent to the one Ima was sitting on before he showed up to grace her day. He doesn't say it, but he's thinking very loudly that her knees probably hurt and maybe bending down to get the money, should she change her mind, would be difficult for her.]

[gourmandized]

[He picked it up. He went and picked it up for her like she's incapable of bending down to retrieve things. Sure, it might take her slightly longer to bend and stand back up, but that's more about her center of gravity than anything else--when there's more of her to balance it'll obviously take a little longer to make that happen. Unless she's on her feet for extremely long periods of time her legs work just fine without pain, thank you very much. She's young and perfectly healthy, just bigger than most.

And she still doesn't want the money to begin with!]

Just go.

[By now she's emotionally exhausted. She doesn't want to be pitied, not by him or anyone else. She's not suffering. She'd be able to live a wonderfully happy life if other people would just stop treating her like a joke or assuming she must be miserable. Out of those two options, she's not even sure which is worse. She's tired of telling him to leave, and just having to demand it that many times is an insult unto itself. Would a "normal" person have to ask so many times? She seriously doubts it.

So with a sigh she turns and starts to walk off, the carefully-wrapped remaining half of her lunch left sitting on the bench. She didn't forget it there...she's just completely lost her appetite.]

[hearthebell]

[His attempt to help out has fallen very flat, multiple times now. L's intelligence in some arenas is legendary, but he's ill-suited for many others, and the result is multiple scenarios like this one every single day, where his intentions go misread and he ends up doing more damage than good.

He stares like some small animal caught in a flashlight beam at her admonishing order, unsure of how to proceed even when it's spelled out so unambiguously and blatantly.]

I don't...

[It doesn't matter, because though he could surely catch up to her in seconds if he wanted to, she's leaving. He starts going the opposite direction, but out of morbid curiosity, he does hang around for awhile, wanting to see if Ima is going to come back at any point for the money that is still on the bench.]

[gourmandized]

[Ima doesn't return for the money, doesn't even spare a glance in that direction, just walks off in hope of finding a place to emotionally decompress. She's still worried about eating people and now she's preoccupied her disastrous meeting with L on top of that.

This time, hopefully, no one will show up to make things harder on her. She's proud to call herself a 'freak' now, but even she needs a break from it once in a while.]