Test Drive Meme

[ryslighelpers]

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.

Comments

1 whispers sorry not sorry

[malpractices]

[And every time he comes an inch close to rethinking his lot in life, every time he wonders if the thrill of discovery is truly worthwhile and makes up for the all the spent energy and ingratitude — and that's not even getting into the danger — something like this comes along. Something that completely turns his world upside down and inside out.

In situations like that, which is to say the one Medic has found himself in right now, the answer could not be more clear: of course it is. Absolutely one hundred percent without a single doubt, yes, it's worth it. He'd hard-pressed to think of any other lifestyle filled with as much excitement and stimulation as a doctor's; maybe a zookeeper or a street performer (according to Soldier and Scout, those strip-mall Santas seem to have it very rough), but honestly! Show him someone who gets to travel as much as he does — unwillingly and unwittingly just as much as the inverse — while being able to mix business with pleasure. Sure, it can be frustrating, but on the whole?

He considers himself very lucky. The world is so vibrant and mysterious, filled with curiosities waiting to be ripped apart and put back together in new and exciting ways.

And that's not even getting into the people.]

Hallo!

[It's a cheerful enough greeting that will come from above Kaz, and the shadow that blocking out the sun seems to smiling. That's not surprising; it's an expression Medic defaults on more often than not. Besides, etiquette dictates that an effort should be made to appear hospitable and sociable in new company, and he intends on delivering both in equal measure.

Once he's gotten his fill of admiring the younger man's stumps anyway.]

You look like you're in trouble. [—said in a very frank, chipper tone, completely at odds with his words.]

He always needs more Medics to haunt him

[warandpeace]

[His trenchcoat sleeve hangs loose around his right arm when he tries to move it, fabric pulling around where his bicep had been cut short. It's a reflex, trying to reach with a non-existent limb as he pulls himself to his "feet". One a prosthetic, barely functional on its own as it's basically a false foot attached by thin metal (betrayed in shape by the half-sea-salt-wet pants that cling to it).]

[He hates asking for help, or accepting it. But the man is... offering? Maybe? It's hard to tell.]

I don't know where I am.

I've gotta get to a phone. Anywhere off the beach.

[Kaz's tone is rough, general life exhaustion seeping into it as well as this... place.]

[Then there's that nasty word. One he hates using because it's usually attached to moments of weakness, memories he has contempt for.] Please.

[malpractices]

[What a sorry sight. He does look the worse for wear, there's no denying that. Of course it doesn't faze Medic one bit. He's reached the point in his career where amputations are quaint and routine compared to some of the other things he's witnessed; at the very least, this man still has half of each pair left, so as far as Medic's concerned, he's lucky. It would disappoint him to hear whining in spite of that good fortune, doubly so when missing limbs are so...inconsequential. They're so easy to replace it's ridiculous.

Besides, he's not one of those bleeding heart doctors, those sappy types who let their better judgment and character become clouded by sentiment. A combo of the above perspective followed by this is what allows him to take in the sight before him so candidly, as if there's nothing wrong with Kaz at all.]

This may surprise you, but— Neither do I! [He clicks his tongue, holding back a full chuckle as he leans down to match Kaz's unsteady level.] You'd think I'd be used to that by now, but every so often...

[Something like this happens and it leaves him breathless and spun around and totally excited. But! Business now, pleasure later.]

Try not to struggle so hard, Herr. It's not the end of the— Well. [And here come his hands, popping that personal space bubble without any shame or second thought as he helps steady Kaz, hauling him up with one arm wrapped around his back. His stance is very practiced, very formal. If that doesn't indicate where his strengths lie, the red cross patch on his uniform's arm will.] I'd say it isn't the end of the world, but I'm not sure if I should make that promise.

[warandpeace]

[He wraps his one arm tight around his shoulders, clinging to keep his weight up. Good to have a field Medic around, definitely. Even if he's an unusually chipper one, brightly voiced and a little bit manic.]

[He'll take it. Even if it involves someone he doesn't know getting this close.]

I've seen a few looming ends of the world. Sometimes with beaches in the background. It wouldn't really surprise me.

But ending up this far from home does.

[It's not the Seychelles, is it? The smell on the air is a little unfamiliar. More... domestic? ...than tropical. The birds he overhears are mundane, not the squawking of Costa Rica or the cawing of the local islands.]

[He digs his fingers into the Medic's coat when his leg nearly gives, grumbling a quiet "sorry" at the frustration in his own mobilty, and continues on at his side.]

Did you show up on the beach, too?

[malpractices]

[He can't say that he shares the other's opinion on that. Waking up in unfamiliar, faintly hostile places is just another facet of Medic's life, not even strictly part of his job. It's something he's been forced to get used to. That's the downside of having a teammate who's bunked with a wizard. It's entirely possible that Soldier's instigated yet another fight with Merasmus and any second now some manner of horrible beast or other will rise from the ocean to murder them.

...It sure is taking its time, though.]

Oh, yes. Though like you, I am not entirely in full form. [His smile slips and his expression darkens.] I've been robbed.

[He sweeps the folds of his coat open for Kaz to show him the military grade harness he's wearing underneath and the network of pouches and holsters attached to it. All of them are empty, as he demonstrates.]

At first, I assumed it was your doing — until I got a better look at you. [And the smile returns, a little flatter but the good will is still there.] Clearly the true culprit is not interested in a direct fight. They've covered themselves very well, as cowards often do.

[Ah, now he's starting to sound a little like Heavy... Too bad he's not here.]

[warandpeace]

They took your guns.

[And that's the first time Kaz has thought to check for his own. His disadvantage and disorientation had taken priority. But his arm is around the Medic's back, and he can't pull back his lapels to check.]

Mind checking for me, Herr Doktor? I got a left-hand shoulder holster [because, well, he only has the left] and a hip holster. [And his trenchcoat are currently covering both. And those are empty. Tranquilizer gun and automatic pistol both gone. Even their clips. Pretty useless now decorating his formal (and sandy) command uniform.]

[Honestly, despite the strange behavior he's glad to run into someone military here. He's a little unusual, but, to be honest, Miller's met a hell of a lot worse. So long as he doesn't drag him off to Cipher or one of its distant relatives hopefully this can be a workable association.]

[They both gotta get out of here, after all. Matching priorities he assumes.]

[malpractices]

[Medic carefully shifts Kaz against him, grimacing a little under the other man's sorta-kinda-not-really dead weight as he juggles supporting him and patting down the aforementioned areas. What he finds — nothing — isn't the least bit surprising. As he said, whoever's behind this was smart enough to think ahead, be it out of pragmatism or maybe some sick desire to make the proceeding spectacle more fun to watch.]

—Empty. [His answer comes with the hint of a scoff, scornful and irate, and he curses quietly to himself under his breath: gottverdammt.] I should be flattered they are this frightened of us. I should be.

[But nope, it just frustrates him. He already knows he's frightening. Even without his weapons or tools, he's still a force to be feared. All this does is postpone the inevitable because now it forces him to find replacements. What a chore.

He peels a fold of Kaz's coat back to get a better look at his holsters, just to double check, offering him a fuller view of the man's uniform. It's very fancy, very professional. The style isn't unrecognizable either; this is a commander's uniform, no doubt. Color Medic intrigued.]

You're a soldier. High-ranking, I presume. [And he swings his eyes back to Kaz's face, peering at him carefully.] American? Who are you with?

[warandpeace]

Japanese-American, actually. [He clung to that recessive blond gene like hell.] But- nng... -But I live independently. No affiliation outside of my own private forces.

[No guns for him either, huh. Catch a good look behind his glasses and his eyes are sheened over and glassy. Almost like cataracts but too reflective. And those eyes are squinting thoughtfully.]

Seems kind of strange to dump us out in the middle of nowhere unarmed. Maybe this is psychological. Put us out here without weapons. Don't attack us straight away, make us wait until they're sure we need help. [There's all kinds of speculating he can do. On one hand, it feels like there's no time for it. Their priority should be to get to somewhere. On the other hand, all they can do unarmed as they are is to keep moving and speculate.]

Who are you with, Doc?

[A medic, obviously. But another PF? Maybe someone Cipher had a beef with? Or an unhappy soldier in the field that just got caught up in some mess?]

[malpractices]

[A mercenary, then. Kaz doesn't say those words exactly, but there's only so many things an "independent" soldier can be. Medic knows this for a fact. He is, of course, in the same boat himself. They have something in common. The missing limbs make more sense now, as do the strange cataracts Medic catches sight of (heh) out of the corner of his eye, a sliver of milky glass that stand out against the shadows cast from the man's sunglasses.

Interesting. He could learn a lot from this man's broken body.]

That's tacky. [Well it is!] And if that's the case, they're in for a long wait! I don't ask for help even in the best of times, nor do I need it. I'm the one they should be asking for help.

[It's pretty much his job. And no lie, he's pretty damn good at it. In response to the question being asked of him, Medic hums thoughtfully.]

It's a rather long story. I suppose the simplest answer would be that I, like you, work for myself. My current team is in a bit of a...eheh, what you'd call flux.

[Because Medic killed them. Well, the most important one.

...Okay, so Heavy killed him. But he helped out! Doubtful anyone would've gotten that far without his well-timed help.]

[warandpeace]

[He would claim that it's more complicated than that, but a business of mercenaries is indeed still mercenary, isn't it?]

[When the Medic says "Tacky" Kaz twitches the faintest hint of a smile. An expression that's become a rarity for that once beaming face, but he's still pretty amused by that analysis anyway.] If I had it my way, they'd be asking you for a lot of help by the end of it. I don't exactly like being left prone. They even took my damned crutch. [They might as well have purposefully taken his pride. He already has enough bad experiences being left to flounder.]

Maybe you can tell me the story later when we're not in dire straights, eh Doc?

[Besides, the guy has a nice voice. The accent is something. It's actually doing a good job of steadying his personality even if that first introduction was a little unsettling.]