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

[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.]