graveyardsmash | Test Drive Meme

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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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one;

[Alive. He was alive. That was something, at least. There was something definitely wrong about this place - he was completely cut off from his magic, for one thing, which caused him no shortage of distress when he first crawled out of the water - but now that he had some time to pull himself together, he could at least look on the bright side. Mainly, that he wasn't dead.

Seeing someone in the distance, he called out to them.]

Hello! Yes, you! Be a pal and tell me what world this is.

[He doesn't seem phased by any potentially monstrous features the other person might have.]

two;

These are ridiculous. I love them.

[At least, he would if he were just watching it happen to other people and not about to go through it himself. But a fur-bearing trout? He couldn't help but laugh at that. Did some poor sap really end up like that?

He looks over his shoulder and sees a man glaring daggers at him. He leans in to the nearest monster (or fellow not-yet-monster new arrival) and whispers.]

Who pissed in his cornflakes this morning?

three (demon);

[Part of him thought that it wouldn't actually happen to him. Not that he wanted to remain a powerless, squishy human, but the fact that this world's magic worked as well on him as it did on anyone else was a bit disappointing. Nonetheless, he was prepared for this, and when the first shockwaves of pain shoot through him he remains surprisingly composed. It's just pain, after all.

He feels something split through his forehead, blood dripping down his face. His head is pounding, as if someone were yanking something right out of his skull. Once the pain subsides, he's left with a pair of curved, black horns coming out of his forehead.]

Anyone got a mirror?

[Several creatures had horns, but perhaps getting a look at them could help narrow it down a little.]

[Egon is busy sort of pushing past these new people, handing out compact, short versions of his still-in-progress monster guide. This one is much more serious, and much more information. It includes a foreword about the false information and how smart someone is for taking 'Spengler's Monster Guide'.]

[He offers one absently to Flagg and shrugs.]

I don't know. I believe they think they're helping.

Hm.

[He takes a look at Spengler's Monster Guide.]

Does this have one of those personality quizzes? I want to know what monster I'll get.

[He knows there's no personality quiz that determines anything. The thought just amuses him.]

I don't think it's possible to tell what you'll become for sure.

No, it doesn't have a personality quiz.

[The book is thick, even for an uncompleted copy. There's a page for every monster, and three or four for both gods.]

You should consider one. It'd be a bit of fun, I think. Especially if the result is totally random.

['Use this book you've obviously worked very hard on to fuck with people a bit' is what he's asking.]

[This is a scientific journal. It only fucks with those not willing to read it. Egon wags one of the books, shrugging idly.]

I think that might bring everything else I write into question.

Not for you.

[Cuthbert's tone is cold and dry, a stark contrast to his usual jovial intonations. Nothing can flip the switch in him like Broadcloak. Or whatever the hell name he's going by, Bert can't keep track of them. He only knows the wizard has many names, and is apparently the only wizard in his entire world. At least from what Roland's said.]

[It's fog time, changes coming in, so Bert is currently seven and a half feet tall and sporting a monstrous void mouth from which dozens upon dozens upon dozens of six inch fangs burst forth in all directions. Including right through the skin of his cheeks and lips. He's eerily gaunt, skin grayed and dead looking, and his single red eye seems to gleam. Not an ideal state in which to run into the wizard, all things considered, but at least he looks frightening.]

[He does rather wish his teeth weren't so blood stained. Even if the blood had come out of a bucket and not anyone alive.]

There's no guess in my mind as to what you are.

[He leans forward, pain coming to him once more, this time at his back. Something was growing beneath his skin near his shoulder-blades, and would soon burst out. Wings, if Bert's guess was correct.]

Cuthbert. How lovely you look. Red's a good color on you.

[Red because of his eye and the blood and Red because...well, he looks every bit a Red vampire right now. And with that comment, two webbed black wings exploded from his back, small and malformed at first but growing in size every second with sharp pops and cracks.]

You think this suits me, then?

Fuck you. I could tear you apart with my teeth, if I wanted to risk making myself sick by getting yer blood in my mouth.

[Mayhap not as easily, now that the wizard is changing. But he's in his fog form and the bastard is currently changing, he'll bet he's still stronger. And freshly fed even.]

[He does wish he had his eyepatch on, though.]

You've always been a filthy demon. Least now folks'll kennit when they lay eyes on ye.

[He stretches himself up to his full height, stretching his arms and extending his wing membranes to enhance the illusion of size. In his fog form, he's shirtless and barefoot, only wearing a pair of black denims and the rook skull Jade had made him along with his human teeth hanging from a leather cord around his neck.]

What does what you are now say about what you've always been, then?

[His wings keep growing and growing until their full span is twice his height, and with one final snap they settle as they are, his torn skin beginning to mend itself around them. He'd changed shape plenty of times before, but only by his own will. This was someone else's magic forcing its will on him. These horns felt heavy on his head, the wings strange and awkward.

But it was nothing he couldn't get used to. All things considered, he was satisfied with what he was becoming. It was what so many people had seen him as over the years, it may be an enjoyable experience to become one for real. He turns to look back at his new wings.]

Huh. They match my outfit. [As in: all black.] Awful considerate of the Fog God to take my fashion sense into account.

It says that all gods enjoy making jokes at my expense. Even the ones here. Foggy's a bitch, this sort of thing is right up her alley.

[Ugh, why does the wizard get the cool back wings? Bert wanted those. Not that his own aren't perfectly nice wings he can use very well, but...]

[Gods, the impulse to go for the wizard's throat is strong. He's quick. So quick he can't be seen properly when he moves. It wouldn't be permanent, but it would be so, so satisfying. His prehensile, tubelike tongue darts out from between the gap in his terrible teeth, as though scenting the air. Or anticipating.]

[When he does move, in a dark blur, it's to leap up and grab the side of a building with his feet and one hand, to gain the height advantage.]

You would be a fan of hers.

Why'd she make a joke out of you and not me, I wonder?

[He has to laugh at the tongue. If a vampire from their world were to come here, they'd easily accept Bert as one of their own kind. He could appreciate the Fog God's sense of humor, even if he was bitter that she stole his magic from him.

...And as if on queue, he felt something, something within him, as if a switch has been flipped. He knew what it was, exactly what it was, and began to grin that awful ghastly grin of his.]

Ah, there it is.

[With a flick of his wrist a flame ignited, covering his left hand in fire. It wasn't the full extent of his magic, but it was magic just the same. Magic that may hopefully make hungry, angry vampires think twice about eating him.]

Because only one of us is ka mai.

[The eternal butt of the universe's jests. Even here, even now. All of the things Bert had wanted out of his monster form, he'd gotten. But only as a vampire. What a grand laugh for old Foggy!]

[It's instinct, when the wizard displays magic. Bert's form softens and blurs and stretches, growing insubstantial until there's only a dark grayish black mist hovering where he'd been hanging from the edge of the building. It's more out of fear that he's about to have a fireball launched at him, but in retrospect, it has to look rather impressive]

You aren't the only one with tricks, Broadcloak.

[Pity his ability to bend wills doesn't work on other monsters. It'd be a damn spot of fun, making the wizard his puppet for an hour...]

It's Flagg now, actually.

[Wow, it's been a while since anyone called him Marten Broadcloak. He watches as Bert turns into mist; it's nothing he hasn't seen before, but coming from Bert (who he never pegged as having much magical potential) it was impressive.]

Good to see you taking up some magic, boy. You'd make a fine sorcerer yet.

[Bert's probably one of the last people he'd pick to train in sorcery under normal circumstances, but it'd sure be funny to push him towards the Red.]

[Flagg. What sort of name was that? Not that it matters what name the bastard goes by.]

[Bert's glad he's taken his incorporeal form, so he can't bristle in irritation. He's no sorcerer! But the implications sting him, feed his own insecurities. It isn't as though he hasn't wrestled with what being a vampire means for him. He's even called himself, in jest, a 'Red thing'. As always, he jokes because if he doesn't the thoughts are too terrifying, too much.]

[He's always been afraid there's more darkness in his heart than the average man's.]

I haven't taken up a damned thing, it's just what vampires here can do. Can turn into other things, too.

[But he can't hold it very long yet, Bert's still learning how to use his abilities. He drifts downwards and solidifies, betting on his speed to save him if Flagg tries anything.]

Oh, of course, of course.

[He raises both hands as if to ask forgiveness.]

Nothing I do is a Red thing, either, it's just something a sorcerer does! [See? They can both make that excuse.]

[The werebear stops in his tracks at that voice, his ears turning and flattening even as he turns his head. He's covered in brown fur and certainly looks more bear than were. He's wearing a pair of jeans and a button down. No hat, no guns; he has them but they mostly hang on the wall of the bedroom he shares with Bert.

He doesn't answer. He just walks toward the Man in Black. Because this? This is a lovely thing. Flagg's just arrived and, therefore, is human. He stops when he's within speaking distance. He might not be in striking distance, but he's faster than a human. So, to quote a meme, bitch he could be.]

As close to the Clearing as either of us are going to find.

[He doesn't recognize the body, but oh, he recognizes the voice.]

Dear Roland. [He hisses that name, like a snake ready to strike. But he's too weak to strike, right now.] I know a lot about the Clearing and what might happen there, but becoming a bear was never part of it. Interesting. I'm still regular old me, it looks like. I sure hope I came in with a handsome face; seems like I'll be stuck with the one I've got, for now.

[No magic, no shapeshifting. Sigh.]

For now.

[He nods ever so slightly. In a month or so? Flagg will be something different. He can only hope that Flagg gets something deserving. Not a spider, no no no. Slime would be good.]

We all become what we truly are inside. You'll be human until you change. I'd spare you the change, but you'd only come back.

[The word 'spare' is spat, and clearly meant as anything but benevolent.]

And you're a bear inside. Interesting.

[He guesses it makes sense.]

Do you really want to see what I am on the inside?

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Test Drive Meme

Randall Flagg | The Dark Tower

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