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Test Drive Meme

TEST DRIVE MEME: SEPTEMBER

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.

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4a - Naga

"Blast," that idiotic fog was rolling in. Oh, he'd heard of what it meant, seen the brochures, seen the 'monsters' (which admittedly took him to a near-breakdown to accept them as reality), but he was worried more about being eaten himself than what was about to happen to him.

Clutching his umbrella, the tall, slim man scurried down the street as the air grew thicker, pointedly ignoring the itching that came on quite suddenly. Without much more warning, the itching reached a fever-pitch and he could not bear it any longer. "Damn--" He scrambled over to a bench (really, this was entirely too much physical activity for the day, he hated legwork) and sat down, muttering under his breath and untying his shoes, just a quick scratch, he probably used the wrong sort of soap--

--when he removed his sock, his foot sort of just...sank. Like it was boneless in his hands. That was--horrifying. And it was still terribly itchy, he couldn't help but scratch, but instead of skin there were dark, shiny green scales.

"No." That was just it, he refused this reality. No, he wasn't going to accept that his bloody foot was scaly and boneless.

Several minutes later, and a pained, recovering middle-aged man would be seen trying to drag a rather large bulk into an alleyway, several pieces of clothes shredded, and a very last-ditch attempt to recover any dignity he had left.

4b - Slime

Mycroft wasn't feeling well that afternoon, probably had a fever because he'd been sweating buckets and buckets, which did absolutely nothing for the three-piece suit he always wore, even in this ridiculous place.

Right now he decided the best thing to do was find the coldest air-condition he could find, which wasn't all that common as summer was winding down, but he'd managed to find a particularly chilly cafe. He didn't frequent cafes, but this was a downright emergency as he'd soaked right through his vest and jacket, people giving him funny looks as he entered, his umbrella tap-tapping as he walked inside and stood in line to order.

It was all very well and good, though he didn't notice how his right hand was now sinking and literally collecting inside his umbrella.

Butters wasn't happy about being out in the fog waiting for his friend. But he couldn't help notice the man suddenly bending over, grabbing his leg. He tried not to notice; the man probably just had too-small shoes on. It was none of Butter's business really. It could be dangerous to intervene with strangers here. Extremely dangerous. He put his hand on the pocket where he kept his knife.

But the man's voice got to him. It wasn't terrified or pleading, but the stubborn refusal to accept the world as it was was all too familiar.

"Hey?" Butters stepped out of the fog, short and looking as though he was about to flee. "You okay? There's a clinic."

Mycroft, needless to say, at this point was beyond appalled. His shoes lay forgotten as he was sprawled out on the ground, trying very hard not to look at what was now in place of his legs. A massive python tail instead of an expensive pair of pants. He heard a voice through the fog.

"I'm fine, I don't need any help!"

Because this Wasn't Happening.

He almost yelps and leaps back; that tail looks capable of doing considerable damage if lashed around. Instead he makes a muffled "eep."

"Right." He takes a breath and manages a conversational tone. "You are doing fine, compared to me. You should have heard me last week when my teeth and ears were coming in. Not to mention the fingers." He shrugs, holding up both hands with their far too long fingers with their membranes and claws.

"But the clinic has got to have pain medicine. Even if it's just willowbark tea, it's got to be better than suffering through this. I could help you get to the clinic too but I don't know if..." Mycroft doesn't look in any shape to travel. "I could get someone with a stretcher."

By now Mycroft isn't too appalled by the existence and appearance of the other monsters, but he has an unfortunate common ground and frame of reference now.

"That's...a thoughtful offer," he manages to say through gritted teeth. "But I'm fine. I really am. This is just a temporary setback."

He tried to move, tried to ungainly drag himself--such loss of dignity there--but his tail was just too heavy. He couldn't budge an inch. A ripple undulated through his tail as he thought to move, and the sensation of feeling his tail move sent an awful shiver through his spine. Which was apparently like 30 feet long or something now. It was surreal and entirely too animalistic for him to handle.

"I'm fine."

That's when his tongue went forked and tasted the air.

"What in blazes--!?"

Edited 2017-09-11 04:47 (UTC)

"Okay." He knows when to back off.

"You-uh- look like you're getting the hang of that. Though I've heard you definitely don't want to hang around in a fog like this."

"It happens. Like I said, you're doing better than I did." Well the guy doesn't need him, maybe he should stop intruding on his transformation. But he does hate to leave someone out in the fog.

Mycroft, as much as he was not admitting it to himself, was definitely not getting the hang of anything. The fact he was changing, his well-ordered life shattering, his body betraying him, was anathema to him.

"Oh really? You've had to deal with this monstrous...ridiculous...thing!?" He waved a hand angrily towards his tail, which rippled uselessly again. Another shudder. His tongue flicked out, it was the strangest combination of taste and scent information, his senses were far sharper than they'd been minutes ago. The leftover heat of the day, lingering on the ground felt quite good against the scales of his tail. Something in him was pleased, and wanted to curl up someplace warm.

He didn't want to be left alone, for fear he'd succumb to whatever was happening to him fully.

"...It's difficult to move."

Edited 2017-09-11 13:44 (UTC)

"No." He says it quietly though the man's agitation is getting to him. He's a little scared and has to bite his tongue to keep from being snarky in response. He also can't help wincing a little too; he's imagining what it feels like to have a tail.

"My hands were bad enough, to be honest. I had to relearn everything, everything I did with them. I put holes in all my shirts. Nearly poked an eye out. And that's on top of looking like one of those monkeys with the long fingers...Aye Ayes. But I don't have a tail and I don't know what that's like.

Can you pull yourself along? Would it help if I hooked an arm under your shoulder? Then you could sort of flail until you figured it out.'

Mycroft could feel something in his teeth starting to loosen, and it didn't take a genius to know what was coming next. He probably did need to get somewhere safer than this. He tried to 'stand' straighter, that unnatural sensation of muscles moving through his core, snake tail stationary for the most part.

"Fortunately I've not had to endure that just yet, if ever." A dry mutter. "I do believe my...well, bulk might be too heavy for either of us. Perhaps we can try regardless."

A pause. "What is your name and species?"

Edited 2017-09-11 14:16 (UTC)

Waldo eyed Mycroft. "I'm stronger than I look" he volunteered. "But you're right. It's going to be awkward, but if I can get leverage..." His eyes squinted in calculation. "Anyway, there is no 'try'. Let's see if we can do it."

He held out his arm, crooked for Mycroft to grab and link arms.

"Call me Butters. I'm a vampire, apparently. The blood drinking kind." He looked disgusted. "The "gods" here just never stop giving."

"Mycroft Holmes."

This was the literal strangest thing that's happened to him but that was no excuse for impropriety. Proper introductions were always in order.

"Wonderful." A pause. The monster hunger nonsense was going to hit him too eventually, wouldn't it? And snakes--

--oh, blast.

One thing to worry about at a time.

"Right, thank you, uh, Butters." He moved his arms to link with the vampire. The other man's human half was thinner under his suit, but the snake tail was enormously heavy. "I'm going to try to push." Fighting past his revulsion, he tried to sense what his tail's nerves were telling him. The pressure against the ground, the warmth, the coiled muscles filled with potential energy for quick movements. Appalling, but he had little choice now.

Tentatively, the tail twitched and shuddered again, thrashing back and forth clumsily, but there was an awkward sort of forward motion a bit. Mycroft had no idea how to properly slither, but he could flail.

The name sounds familiar, but Holmes isn't exactly a rare surname.

"Go ahead." He braced himself, feet against the ground, grunting with the effort of trying to be a steady support to a wriggling snake. Eventually, as Mycroft slides forward, he gets pushed back and to one side, feet almost sliding out from under him on a wet leaf.

"Oof! I'm okay! Don't stop!"

Mycroft, a bit coldly probably, didn't bother to ask him if he was truly all right. A shrug, and he kept going. His movements were ungainly and very clumsy, but it didn't take him that long at all, maybe a few more movements in, to figure a sort of slithering motion. He was grateful for the support, however, it helped him focus on his tail.

Something about the muscles closest to the ground pulling and pushing in a pattern. It was uncomfortable, a completey inhuman action that revolted him, but there was nothing else for it but to keep going.

Now he figures he probably should check on his assistance.

"Holding up?"

It's a good thing Mycroft didn't ask if he was alright, because he was too busy trying not to get knocked out of the way to answer. He periodically called out "Whoops" or "Watch it" or "okay."

Waldo, panting, gave him a thumbs up. "'s good. You seem to be moving now." Which was a good thing because he knew for certain now he couldn't drag the snake man anywhere.

"I didn't get you with my claws, did I?"

"Yes, I do believe I no longer need assistance with moving. Thank you for you help." He wasn't completely rude, now.

A quick pat down of his tattered clothes, as he pulled the upper part of his tail closer. "Save for a couple of tears, I'm all right. Easily mendable, plus I'll save money on suits now I no longer need pants."

A smirk, it's a joke and he enjoys being sarcastic, but his eyes betray how terrified he is. That blasted forked tongue made another appearance, and he shuddered. His teeth were on fire now, and the movement of his tongue loosened them completely. He spat out several teeth in his hand.

"Blast."

Butters just nodded, catching his breath.

"Who needs pants, really?" The joking was a good sign, he thought.

But the tooth thing made him visibly recoil in horror.

"Oh, my God." He had a strong stomach, the tail was too surreal to be that horrifying. He was used to gore, but not from living people. He clamped a hand over his mouth.

Mycroft was in too much sudden pain to say anything much else, but within seconds he sported long fangs where his ordinary human teeth used to be. It was all over in another moment, and he just stood (or whatever the equivalent was for a snake-man was) there in an attempt to recover from the latest shock.

"This is insane, when will it end!?"

His words sounded somewhat garbled and uneven, between the forked tongue and the big ol' teeth his mouth was fairly crowded. Or at the very least, he wasn't used to them enough for his speech to be unaffected.

Edited 2017-09-13 23:27 (UTC)

Mycroft's face in pain was enough to make Waldo turn away and swallow deeply. He took a breath and resolved to at least try to help, to be neutral and dispassionate, as bad as he was at it.

"Knowing the other snake guys I've seen, that should be the end.

Unless you grow scales too." He winced a bit, wishing he hadn't added that last part. Not exactly comforting.

Mycroft sighed heavily, looking fairly unhappy. At this point he really wouldn't be surprised. He was a monster enough already.

"Fantastic. It's wonderful to have something to look forward to."

He rubbed his jaw, the pain fortunately fading. His forked tongue flicked out again. Horrible thing. The extra senses were, admittedly, not entirely a bad thing, but it was terribly disconcerting to keep seeing a snake tongue in his face every few minutes.

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Light's time has come and gone and yet come again when he saw Mycroft dragging his disheveled self into the ally. The timing instantly clues him into the problem, and Light follows behind, keeping a safe distance should the stranger decide to strike out in anger or pain. Once he too reaches the entrance to the ally, he finally makes his presence known.

"I won't ask if you're alright, I wouldn't have come if you were. You're going through the changes, aren't you? I can understand wanting to be alone, I did too, but it's not really safe. I couldn't see from far away, but can you describe what's happening? I could help."

While he wasn't officially trained, he had studied under several doctors now and done his own research.

Mycroft's voice comes through the fog, pained and horrified. He's normally not used to life being this out of control, and he's definitely not used to the sheer ridiculousness of his body betraying him in this manner. He certainly doesn't want to be seen but he did need help, probably.

"I...I'm not e-entirely certain..."

He's gritting his teeth, paralyzed with fear, as his trousers have shredded. Dark green scales covered what was left of his legs, which were melding together, fusing into what could only be described as a tail.

"S...snake...? This is ab...surd..."

"It's called a Naga, but that isn't the most important thing right now. I can tell you more about it later, but you're probably in too much pain to focus. Anyone would be, considering what you're going through. The most important thing is to get you through this safely. There are doctors, but the pain you're feeling is beyond any anesthetic Ryslig can provide. I know it isn't what you want to hear, but the pain is inevitable. Instead, we need to get you away from this alley. You won't be the only one changing, and some of them will change hungry. If they find you, you'll be forced to fight. Maybe you'll win, but it won't be enjoyable no matter the outcome. I realize I am a stranger, but I want to help. I've helped others. All I need for you to do is agree to come with me. I can take you home if you've had time to find a place to call home."

They were right about the pain--Mycroft gripped the folds of his suit as his tail continued to grow, muscle and spine stretching, like he was being pulled apart. A few more pained yelps escaped him.

"Delightfully altruistic, are you? Very w-well."

He had little choice but to accept it. He certainly didn't want to be this vulnerable.

"I...I have a p-place in Bavan, an apartment."

"We can discuss my virtues later." It was possibly a joke, but Light wasn't going to go into details about his personality while a man's body is being ripped apart when, all else aside, Mycroft likely couldn't less. It was hard to think past the pain that would be racking his body.

"I'm coming closer. As a faerie, I have the ability to create rings, which can teleport us. I can't use it if I don't have a connecting ring already placed, but if you can give me your address, I'll take us as close as I can to your apartment, and physically help you inside from there."

"T...that would be appreciated, thank you." He gives out his address, it's a place on a non-descript road in a non-descript neighborhood. A place more average than he'd like or was used to, but he wasn't making as much money here nor did he have his inhertance, either.

The painful transformation seemed to be slowing down, at least, and his tail seemed to be capping out at least twenty feet. Green scales glittered in the dark.

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Test Drive Meme

Mycroft Holmes | BBC Sherlock

4a

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