graveyardsmash | Test Drive Meme: July

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Test Drive Meme: July

TEST DRIVE MEME: JULY

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 is making all the cuts and scrapes on your skin 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 on the more informative end of the scale. 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 readers saying they're lies, or pointing out good "jokes."

Then there are 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.

Threaded | Flat

[A. DON'T TURN OUT THE LIGHT (ONE)]

[2D wakes up with a mouthful of sand, and a faceful of sand, and there's a lot of sand everywhere, isn't there? He's pretty sure it's in his underwear, now that he thinks about it. Why would there be sand everywhere? He sits up, spitting the sand out, and takes a look at his surroundings.

Well isn't this familiar. Creepy beach, mysterious circumstances of waking up... He scoots away from the water a little, just in cases.

He stumbles to his feet, though, as soon as he notices the lights in the distance. That's not a sign of some abandoned place where he'll be stuck forever, right??

And then he takes a couple steps, turns at the slightest movement, and freezes.]

Er... I was just leaving, actually.

[B. KEEP FEELING FASCINATION (TWO)]

[Well, he found civilization eventually anyway. Now he's got an armful of pamphlets and no idea what to make of them, and people keep on giving them to him. Judging by a few of them, maybe some kind of monster movie's going on? Or maybe not, but he'll treat it that way anyway right now because... it's better than the alternative?]

Right, uh, and what are my lines?

[C. ADD YOUR VOICE TO THE SOUND OF THE CROWD (LICH) (FOUR)]

[He's really not sure how this monster thing is supposed to work. It's obviously real and everything, and it's not like he'd never seen monsters before coming here anyway, but there's a difference between seeing something and having it happen to him. But so far, it's been calm. Maybe it won't happen to him. Maybe he'll be okay.

And then he looks down at his hands. Raw and red, skin peeling. He stares at them for a second, fascinated. It really takes him a moment to really take in just what's going on.

And then he screams. In the middle of the street.]

[D. WILDCARD]

[something else in mind? throw it at me, or just lemme know.]

A. I Don't Like Sand.

[Aoi wakes up lying in sand. Wet sand.

Add that to his wet clothes and the sound of surf nearby, and it's obvious he isn't in the desert right now.

He sits bolt upright, spitting violently and spraying silt everywhere, and he madly looks around him - or tries to, because everything's covered in fog.]

Pah! Blech! Jesus, what...a fucking beach?!

[Why the hell is he on a beach? This makes no fucking sense. They were nowhere near the ocean when they...]

Fuck! [He yells out:] AKANE! Can you hear me? AKANE!

[There's a reply! Way off in the distance. A shout...or, rather, many shouts, and none of them sound like hers...

Then he hears the gunshots. More shouting, hoots of triumph and howls of pursuit. Noooow he wishes he hadn't shouted.

FUCK FUCK FUCK, he's gotta move. He's gotta find Akane. The thick-ass fog should help to hide him, but Aoi darts from cover-to-cover - this dune, that rock - as he searches around, eyes trained like a hawk's for any sign of his sister. He peers from behind a tussock of grass, look, he sees someone! - but it's not her. They don't look like they're hunting anyone, though - in fact, they seem pretty confused themself - and he's desperate. So he hisses out at whoever's-this-dick:]

Hey, you! Seen a girl around? Long hair, wearing a dress?

B. Don't Drink The Kool-aid!

[He hasn't found his sister yet. He's has, however, found his way to town. And it's populated by goddamn evangelicals.

They swarmed out at him the moment he set foot here, a flock of bright-faced, folksy chickens with their incessant hokey clucking. "Need a place to stay, son? We've got plenty of room!" "Say, boy, you look hungry! Why don'cha pop in and have something to eat?" And many, many, many variations of "Here, take this!"

Pamphlets. Soo many pamphlets, like he's at a fucking PETA convention. They just keep pushing them onto him, grinning their big toothy grins (all fake, unable to hide the fear in their eyes) and wishing him luck with "[his] transformation" or some shit. They won't fucking stop, no matter how many shoves and middle fingers and "go stick it up your ass!"-es he gives in return.

They're all complete gibberish. He flipped through a single one, and that told him all he needed to know about Vandare. Monsters, huh? That's what's scaring all of these chumps so bad? Great, so he's stuck in some medieval cult village.

Eventually, Aoi gets away from the welcome party and finds himself a seat somewhere near the ocean, kicking rocks into the water as he tries to decide his next move. He hears someone else out here, and turns to see what looks like another newcomer. They're in the same boat, right? Maybe this person can be useful. So he calls to them:]

Are those shitheads annoying, or what? It's like goddamn Jonestown back there!

C. Speaking of God and Shit...

["Seek us out."

And before Aoi can find out who the fuck said that, he's somewhere else.

In place of night air and chirping Vandarites, he's now surrounded by flashing screens and beeping sounds in a dark room. An arcade? How the fuck...well, unless he's in that morphological sphere or whatever it's called, but he doesn't think it works like this...

Well, whatever. He's not seeking Creepy Mind Voice out, but he is gonna poke around.

So, he wanders around the place, kicking the stupid little robots out of his way and checking out the games as he goes - weird fuckin' titles he's never heard of before, "Whack-A-Pooka" and the like. It's not long before he sees someone else in the glow of the flashing lights, and he decides they could help him out.]

Wonder what kind of fucking hipster owns this joint, don't you?

D. No, Aoi, You Are The Gargoyles.

[And then Aoi was a dragon!

...No, he realizes as his thought comes back to him. He's been a dragon since this morning, it's just that he was suddenly frozen. He thaws quickly, impulses sparking once more in his muscles as the patches of marble shrink, so quickly he collapses once he's free enough. He stares at his limbs, black-clawed and white-mailed; he reaches up to touch his face, gaping in shock as he feels the sharp beak and horny brow; as he stumbles back to standing, his powerful tail swishes about, and he stretches out his great snowy wings in an effort to steady himself. He's...a monster. Okay. Monsters are real, and he's one of them.

He hears a noise. His head, on a long and graceful neck, whips back behind him. He sees a man - a human. Aoi is suddenly hungry.

Before his mind can think of any reaction, his body moves without it. He's airborne with a mighty flap, rocketing straight towards the now-running prey. He strikes in seconds, bowling him over and hooking his talons deep into flesh. He pins the guy down, lunges down, and sinks in his fangs; when he rips out his victim's throat, it's all over.

Instinct isn't done yet. Before he has any time to process what he's done, he tucks in, tearing off strips of meat and tossing them down as he snarls ravenously and sprays blood everywhere. He doesn't notice anyone (i.e. your character) approaching, and too bad if that's someone's hungry, because he's in no mood to share. Better wait until he's done.]

E. Wildcard?

[Show me whatcha got, punk!]

[Scenario One]

[Waking up with a mouth and face full of sand, covered with cuts and scrapes that just sting is a huge contrast from where she was before. Startling and awful, in fact, because she went from the most joy she's ever felt in her life to... well, this. Seeing the lights is when she makes the decision to head towards them, though. It's better than just staying here, shivering in her fear. She normally tries to be braver than this, but she's never done well with this kind of situation.]

Hello!? Can anyone hear me?? I need some help!

[Scenario Two]

[Now that Makoto's gotten some clean, dry clothes and some food to calm her flipflopping stomach, she... isn't even sure what to make of all of these pamphlets. She's definitely in denial. It all feels like some elaborate joke thanks to the names of some of the pamphlets.

And then she pinches herself, her exclamation after loud enough for anyone nearby to hear.]

Ow!

[Scenario 4]

[After what was probably the most miserable morning in her life, Makoto has finally decided to venture outside. She's unsteady at best because... well, she has hooves now, but she can't just sit around. It's not like her to just sit around, and she is determined to learn how to walk again.

It's thanks to her unsteadiness that she might be stumbling and crashing into you with a loud yelp.]

Sorry, sorry!

[WILDCARD]

[Got something else? Hit me up at

kyuupin!]

B

[Newt's currently lounging on a porch swing outside the house of the very gracious [if incredibly nervous] family that helped pick him up off the beach. The porch itself is littered with books he's already read through, and Newt's currently in the middle of "Gargoyles and YOU! Specificially, The Gargoyle You'll Be Turning Into". There's a few other books on the swing, about everything from mermaids to harpies, but he hasn't gotten around to them yet.

He looks incredibly focused, but if you happen to pass by, he'll look up just in time and wave you down.]

Hey! Soooo, quick question, is everyone here just really, REALLY superstitious, or is this stuff, like, legit? Because I don't really care if it turns out these people have been, like, pranking me or whatever, that's cool, that's whatever- but are these monsters and shit, real here?

[Newt looks like he's barely able to contain his excitement. Look, he's a biologist- give him a few dozen new creatures that haven't been thoroughly studied by any known science, and now it's Christmas in July.]

-

D, featuring implied spoilers for Pacific Rim Uprising

[It's day 53 since Newt woke up here- he's been keeping track. He's never been good at that- math was always Hermann's thing, even though you need math all the time in science, and there's no way he could've gotten even one doctorate without using it, let alone all six, but he's bad at, you know, keeping track of days.

The days go by so damned fast and so damned easily, even when you're in a weird monster-filled hellhole because hey, he just got out of a weird monster-filled hellhole and he was in the middle of being possessed by those monsters and nearly killing all his friends, and now look at him. He's not just- they're not just in his brain anymore, the monsters are him, he's got scales growing on his arms and talons instead of fingernails, and he thinks he feels stuff sprouting from his back and-

Newt realizes two things. The first is that someone is watching him. The second is that he'd started speaking his thoughts out loud.

He winces, looking down from the ledge he's perched on, and runs his hands through his hair.]

... Uh, hi. How much of that did you hear?

Edited 2018-07-07 01:54 (UTC)

[[just a heads up! from juno's most recent canonpoint, he only has one eye! my icons have yet to be updated. let me know if you don't want penumbra podcast spoilers since he IS from the most recent episodes]]

i. juno steel and the final resting place

[The first thing Detective Juno Steel registers upon waking up is that he is lying face-down in wet sand. His mind briefly dwells on the question of "how the fuck did I end up outside Hanataba's like this" when he then realizes that Mars doesn't have any water. Why would the sand be wet?

Confused, Juno rolls over and slowly gets up, blearly scraping the crusty sand out of his beard. When his eyes focus, he sees trees. Lots of trees.]

What the hell?!

[He quickly come to the obvious conclusion that he's no longer on Mars. He sinks to his knees again, lying back down in the sand. Nope. Not today. He just got that stupid cybernetic eye out of his brain, it's probably just sending him weird hallucinations or something as a lingering side effect. Yeah. That must be it. That and the sensation of sand and the smell of gunpowder and...everything. Yep. Side effects.]

ii. juno steel and the lesson learned

[So, learning about being cursed to slowly become a monster in this wretched place is great and all, but Juno doesn't believe a lick of it. He refuses to believe it. First of all, gods aren't real, and second of all...there's gotta be a better explanation for it. Some weird form of radiation leeching into the soil, or forged memories. Sure, numerous people vouched for the fact that they had arrived on the peninsula relatively human, but searching for answers that made sense just made him more and more frustrated. A few people eventually advised him to just get a laptop and ask via the network, which he begrudgingly borrowed from a monster in town.

Only one problem--Juno Steel has no idea how to use a computer. So, currently, he's sitting in the middle of a cafe in Bavan, staring intensely at the laptop and occasionally tapping at random keys on the keyboard. If one looks over his shoulder, however, the screen is very clearly blank.]

What, you never seen a guy trying to debug a computer?

[He...might need a little help with this.]

iii. juno steel and the monster's reflection [gargoyle]

[Fact one: Juno Steel is scared of heights.

Fact two: Gargoyles have wings.

Conclusion: When jumping from rooftop to rooftop, Juno is suddenly reminded of the height between him and the ground and instinctively freezes. His wings, which had previously been used to glide, suddenly clamp up, and he slams into the ground like a sack of boulders. If he's lucky, he'll miss hitting anyone nearby. If not, well...you might have a very heavy stone gargoyle falling on top of you right now.]

Jesus Christ--! Are you alright?

wildcard

[Wanna plot something out or ask a question? Just contact me via

wolfnoir!

Edited 2018-07-07 01:54 (UTC)

A | Scenario One

[For most people waking up on an unfamiliar beach with no immediate explanation as to why would be disorientating. It's disorientating for John too, but for vastly different reasons: he shouldn't be waking up anywhere. He shouldn't... be. Or at the very least he shouldn't be like this, in this tiny flesh and blood body. Small. Singular.

He sits up slowly and brushes some sand from his suit jacket. Someone walking by might think he was a local businessman who just decided to have a sit on the beach if not for the scratches and cuts all over him. Speaking of which: huh. Pain. He'd forgotten pain too. Is this his punishment? Did the Hunger drag him in just to kick him out? He looks up reflexively at the sky but it's clear and full of stars, not the sky of a plane under attack.]

... Huh.

[This is about the point that the surf comes in again and this dumbass looking up at the sky gets a face full of salt water that makes all his cuts sting fresh all over again and gets his nice leather shoes incredibly soggy. Please help him. Or laugh at him.]

B | Scenario Four (Pooka)

[For a man who spent so much of his existence preoccupied with becoming bigger, it's incredibly strange to be so small now. John was never an incredibly tall man -- he was always somewhat average in height -- but now he's clocking in at just a little bit under four feet tall not counting his big round mouse ears. It's easy to get lost in a crowd in the big city and even easier for humans to step on his long, thin tail, so he's taken to traveling by rooftop. It neatly feeds the new hunger for danger he's developed along with the hunger everyone told him he was going to get, and his powerful back legs make jumping from roof to roof easy.

Usually. Today his hands, a strange mix between a mouse's paws and a human man's hands that don't look exactly like either of them-- today they can't quite find purchase on the lip of a gutter. He falls with an ungainly squeak into the alley below and hears a sickening crunch as the wrist he landed on gives out.]

Hhhh... ah. Ow. [One of his ears flicks as he notices someone approaching. Is it possible for a mouse's face to look kind of abashed? Is the effect enhanced when the mouse is wearing a smart little suit?] You saw that.

C | Wildcard

[Got other ideas? Toss 'em here! Or contact me at

mister_inkwell ]

b | que sera, sera

Fur Bearing Trout, huh... interesting...

[ A local girl has managed to press a bunch of pamphlets into Zelos' hand, prompting him to skim through some of the contents. In the end, it seemed like there was no way that he wasn't going to be turning into some kind of monster. May as well read up on it and see what the hell is actually going on. There was no way that he could smooth talk his way out of this one. ]

Lemme ask you, sweetheart. [ He points to something on the document for emphasis. ] None of this is going to affect my face, is it? I have a lot of fans that would really be disappointed if I happened to grow fur all over my face. I take a great deal of effort and pride in how I upkeep my looks, you know.~

[ His priorities seem more or less skewed right now, though. ]

c | whatever will be, will be

[ The voices in Zelos' head told him to seek them out. No thanks. He had more than his fair share of having to deal with power-crazed fools, trying to court more was not something he was particularly interested in. Though that seems rather moot as he somehow finds himself in the middle of the Arcade. He's used to magitechnology, but even this is a little jarring and foreign to him.

You can find him wandering around, testing some of the cabinets out, trying to figure out how they work. ]

This isn't actually such a bad idea. I'm surprised no one at Lezareno thought of this...

d | wildcard

[ As always, feel free to hit Zelos up (figuratively and literally)! I'm at

hnnng if you have any burning questions! ]

Edited 2018-07-07 04:00 (UTC)

2.

[The bad thing was, he believed them. Oh, he believed them all right because when you've been through what he's been through--it don't take much to get alarmed when someone hands you a monster pamphlet. Reading the pamphlet? Only alarms him further.

Right now he's trying to figure out how to call Jenkins and get a door before it's too late, and then maybe they can investigate this place and try to fix things, or save people. The whole thing about eating folks? Definitely needed to save people.]

Hey, is there a phone around here? Mine's dead.

4. (Werewolf)

[It's payback, isn't it? For what happened with Jones? Look, he saw the opportunity and had to take it, but apparently, he jinxed himself. Probably literally, in this case.

Maybe he can get by with stuffing the pointy wolf ears under a baseball cap and hiding the tail under an overly large rain jacket. Not so bad, right? He can do this. He can do this, and figure out a way home, where he can get cured and forget about this whole nightmare. This is just a temporary setback.

Except the fur just keeps going and his face hurts and he's just a little too afraid to look in a mirror, because he's pretty sure that he looks more like a wolf with a baseball cap and an overly large rain jacket than anything else.

And that's a really reflective window he just passed. Hypothesis confirmed.]

I hate magic.

Edited 2018-07-07 05:37 (UTC)

1. Don't need that (two)
[The disorientation of waking up on the beach hasn't left her yet. It's been literal years since Lady touched the water surrounding the peninsula. That's the thought that keeps spinning around in her head even though by all appearances she's just arrived. Fresh as the first winter snow and entirely declawed and scaleless. Oh boy.

The pamphlet bearing humans get a firm rebuke. She doesn't need the information. She's already done this gauntlet. It's the glaring crowd that draws her attention. Her fingers itching for her gun but it's in Djavulenstad beyond her reach until she either finds a matchbook or borrows a laptop to ask someone to get her.

Some members of the mob have other ideas as she turns down a street intent on finding an unattended laptop. Technically three against one wouldn't be odds to worry about even back home. But she's still fighting with the idea that she can burn hotter than they can stand, or could. This is such a mess she decides ducking a thrown bottle and spinning around fists up ready to defend herself.]

You know one would think you people would learn after all these years.

2. Familiarity (four)
When the fog rolls in Lady is ready. She's actually borderline excited. Energetic as she watches it roll over the ground. She has an idea of what's coming is prepared for the pain. Except pain doesn't come, not in the way she expects. Instead there's a grinding sound and crunching that makes her ache everywhere all at once and the window of the shop she just exited upon seeing the fog looms above her taller and taller with each passing second until her head comes up to the sill.

Then the pain comes as warm blood runs down her arms. A glance out of the corner of her eyes and she sees the beginning of spikes erupting from her shoulders. She leans against the wall of the shop. Her breath coming in quick sharp pants as she tries to breathe through the spikes and the ache deep in her bones. Apparently she wasn't so lucky as to come back as the same monster.

Interesting.

Lady screams when the spikes finally push their way through into full shape at her shoulders and elbows. And then she just sits all three feet of her on the ground blood rolling from the wounds her spikes made. She was never going to get used to how the spikes came to be.

"Spikes and wings hurt the most," she mutters to herself eyes falling closed, she was tired. Changes were best experienced in the privacy of ones home. She just wasn't lucky enough to have the first ones happens while she was there apparently. A couple of minutes and then she'd make the trip back to Djavulenstad.

3. Wildcard
((Want to do something else with Lady, lay it on me.))

One

Okay, he's been knocked out or fallen asleep on the beach before. The young man wakes up slowly, curly hair lank with saltwater around his shoulders, and he finds himself wretching on a mouthful of sand and seawater. How did he end up on this stormy, gunpowder scented beach? He's not sure. he did remember coming here, Damien has been dead for years...

But the feeling of danger is familiar. He rubs his eyes and looks into the distance, at the city lights, and starts to drag himself up. This is going to be hell on his sinuses. It's not long before he notices the person in the short distance away- and they have shotguns.

Anyone else waking up may find a young, dark-haired young man tripping directly over them and sprawling face-down in the sand again as he runs from a group of angry villagers.

Three

This place is... strange, it feels unfamiliar, and not friendly, but also somehow inviting. It doesn't want him to leave, and he almost doesn't want to either. It's like this was where he was meant to come from the start.

Dyster offers a scent like home; crackling firewood, sea salt, mud road. He breathes it all in deeply, sitting in front of the bonfire and letting it cast orange shadows on his scarred face. After a while, though, he has to know exactly what this place is.

The nearest monster will find themselves being approached by Virgil, a human who looks like he fits right in with the other edible residents. "What's... going on here? Who's this fog god they're singing to?"

four-naga

Virgil is familiar with what people would call monsters from home- basilisks, harpies, and in more recent years mermaids, werewolves, satyrs, and more. The concept of becoming one though is... less familiar, it's terrifying. He'd been threatened with it once, offered it another time, but had never taken it up.

This time, he didn't have a choice or a way to fight it. It was just going to happen, and he had no clue what he was going to be- so he was told.

The young man found his skin itching wildly, turning to callouses. Even the callouses, after a few days, begin to flake away- and it leaves a lot of mess around wherever he goes, picking in the fog. It gives way to orange and black stripes of scales all down his arms and back, claws pushing out from underneath worn fingernails, and, eventually-

his eyelids come off in a bout of uncomfortable rubbing, and the young man shrieks.

one.

[The large woman on the beach is coughing into the sand, thick fingers digging into the grit and face mostly obscured by her huge and ragged mass of hair. She pushes herself onto her knees as the coughing subsides into deep inhales and exhales.

Gems go through the motions of breathing if they need to convey weariness, but it isn't required. At least it shouldn't be, but now Jasper finds herself unable to do without it. She does it without thinking, and it's actually more difficult to halt the process. It's wrong. Everything feels wrong. There's too much working inside her, too much functioning within what should merely be a solid projection of light. Her body feels heavy.

She thinks to call out, to place blame on the malformed Rose Quartz who has to be responsible for this, but her tongue is thick and wet in her mouth. All she can do is sit and rub at her eyes while she tries to make sense of everything.]

two.

I don't want any of this garbage! I want--

[Jasper stops herself before she grabs a poor citizen by the front of their shirt, not because she doesn't want to harass them, but because the smell of the food she'd been offered had finally caught her attention.

As someone used to having her gem where her nose should be, scent is still a sense she's adjusting to. Hunger is also new, and the two combined cause her to see the offered basket of muffins in a whole new light.]

What are these?

[She reaches out, grasping one between her fingers. It should be smaller in her hand, and that bothers her. Even though she towers over woman before her she should still be even taller. This world has shrunk her.]

What do I do with them? Answer me, human!

four.

[There's a cry from across the street and a wooden bench goes sailing to the other side where it crashes into a storefront window.

Jasper stands hunched over on the sidewalk after this display of rage, clutching at both sides of her head. She's clearly in pain. Crying out again, she slams one fist into the brick wall beside her.]

I HATE THIS PLACE! I HATE ALL OF YOU!!

[She pounds the wall with both fists now, and the bricks begin to give way. The shop owner runs out, shotgun in hand. He looks terrified, but he'd also like to keep his store in one piece. This, of course, only serves to make him her next target.

Jasper charges straight at him, ignoring the weapon completely.]

Edited 2018-07-12 20:45 (UTC)

a. | I've done some livin', yeah I've had fun

[ For a split second, as he comes to, Merle could have sworn that he was at home. It was hard to think otherwise when the first thing he heard was the ever changing roll of the ocean and the sound of crunching sand under foot.

He groans, getting to an upright position as he surveys the landscape. This is certainly not any beach he's been on. ]

Well, shit...

[ He grumbles as he stands to his feet, head still on a swivel, trying to find any sort of familiar landmark, or at the very least, someone who looked familiar.

It's not too long before someone comes into view, and starts walking up to him. ]

Hail and --

[ Wait, no. He starts over again, his voice getting more raspy and Christopher Lloyd-like. ]

Hail and well met! You wouldn't happen to know where, uh... the nearest town is?

[ Once the person gets into view, so does the double barrell of a shot gun. The dwarf's hands shoot up in response as he laughs nervously. ]

Is this where I ask you whether you've shot five or six times?

b. | But there is one thing that I haven't done

Look. I'm glad you're worried about me turning into a furry trout or something like that, but let me ask you something, miss.

[ Merle puts his hand on the table. He pushes the pamphlets he's been getting aside as he leans in to the small group of people he has congregating around him. ]

Have you ever heard the good word of Pan?

[ Look, God may be dead to him again, but at least he knows the reason why, this time. God's not dead, there's just no cell reception.

He hopes. ]

D. | I want to know how forever feels

[ I'm voicetesting Merle, so he's gonna to be super rusty. If you have anything you wanna do, just hit me up at

hnnng ]

Edited 2018-07-13 21:32 (UTC)

ONE (Stranded)
There was technically a swear jar in the Maheswaran household, but it was never needed. Swearing just seemed like a waste of energy when you could express your frustration in pithy Shakespearean insults--not that Connie ever got the courage to do that either. But now she was wishing she had put at least a little more effort into learning swears, considering that a primal scream of some four-letter word was the only thing that could properly express her frustration at this moment in time.

Alone, in an unfamiliar and vaguely unsettling place with no idea how she got there? Check. Suspicious local staring at her down the barrel of an old-fashioned shotgun? Check. All signs were pointing towards Connie being on the wrong end of a cosmic horror story.

"I- I can explain!" she squeaks, hands in the air, doing her best to look panicked. Well, at least part of the panic was genuine, but she'd have time to properly scream into the sand later once she was out of this mess.

"Can ya, missy?" The older man drawls. "And can ya explain why it isn't in me and my family's best interest to rid the world of you before you become another thorn in me and the community's side?"

She could also process that later. But for now, Connie needs an opening...

TWO (Not in Beach City Anymore)
Monster. That sounded like some kind of bad joke, or something she was supposed to be fighting. But a friendly-seeming abomination had just kindly informed her that yes, the change was eventually going to come, and no, there was nothing she could do to stop or delay it. And the worst part of it all? It looked like her only option to stay alive after... it... happened was to... to...

She squeezes her eyes shut. No. There was no time to cry. Well, there was, but that wasn't the point. She needed to learn. She needed to survive. She needed to move forward. "And it was just a thought, just a thought, just a thought... it's okay, it's okay, it's okay.." Connie mutters under her breath as she consumes pamphlets at a frankly alarming speed in the shelter, alternating between pacing back and forth and sitting down and scanning them.

FOUR (Now We're Only Falling Apart) [Simulacrum, tw: Body Horror]
It would've been a mercy for it to happen all at once. But the world wasn't that kind, was it? Connie has sequestered herself away from the town, gritting her teeth as her skin slowly flakes off, replaced with gleaming steel marked with intricate circuitry. On an intellectual level, she could almost appreciate the artistry. But that might be part of the problem, part of the distancing. Connie had read about simulacra, their... unique worldview, their way of... feeding, and it all might-

Connie's eyes--perfectly blank and glowing blue--fly open as she realizes that she can't hear her heart beating anymore. And oil begins leaking from their corners as she realizes there really is no way of going back.

WILD CARD
(Go off! I can roll with whatever.)

Edited 2018-07-15 00:25 (UTC)

Scenario 2-A

[this was bullcrap. complete and absolute bullcrap. larry is being shoved along in the village, and it's far more frantic and crowded than even LA could ever hope to be, and he's completely baffled by everything. everytime he tries to flag somebody down, he's met with skepticism and twinges of fear, and his frustration begins to reach a boiling point. eventually, he throws both of his hands up, directing his anger towards anybody who will listen.]

Listen, I don't deserve this kind of treatment! I'm Larry David! I'm - well, I'm kind of a...a big deal! [this stops at least like one or two people, who stare at him for a second like he just grew two heads.]

Yeah, these guys, they know! [he gestures towards them wildly.] You guys must've seen Seinfeld! I was George!

[they turn and walk away, rolling their eyes at the loon, and larry reaches out for them, walking behind them, as they begin to speed up and eventually run away from him.]

Wait, no, I wasn't really George! Well, I was! I was the guy who, I made the show, and I based George on me!

[he stops in his tracks, and he digs his hands into his pockets.]

They thought I was Jason Alexander.

Scenario 2-B

[larry strolls into one of the bathrooms holding a big stack of pamphlets, and walks back out holding none of them. some of the kind people who gave him the pamphlets eye him suspiciously, having watched him because he was acting a little unhinged. this gets even worse when larry tries to take one of the pamphlets back without them noticing, and he ends up talking to 3 very angry-looking pamphlet holders.]

Now, look, I didn't throw away your pamphlets! I would never do that! See, I took your pamphlet into the bathroom, and...you know, you can't take it back out of the bathroom, right? It either ends up touching your gross unwashed hands or it ends up wet from the sink or your own hands! I'm not - I'm trying to replace the pamphlets that you guys gave me.

Scenario 4

[larry doesn't even like fish.

the "larry david sandwich"? it was 2 different kinds of fish, and capers, and larry hated it. that's it. he's become the larry david sandwich. this is his punishment. he's got a freaking tail and...god he's starting to get gills. where's the walt disney people, he feels like he's gonna get sued for copyright infringement at any second. so, what now? is he just gonna embrace this?

well, he'll certainly try. and he does, finding a nice rock out in the middle of a...lake. nice lake, small lake, and he begins his alluring song:]

Hey, boys! It's...me, the alluring mermaid! I'll sell you some decently-priced seafood products for far less than today's overpriced seafood market! 10 bucks for a calamari appetizer, pssh, who are those guys fooling?

[he's owning it.]

Wildcard

[hit me with anything, as long as it ends in larry david being humiliated.]

Edited 2018-07-19 01:01 (UTC)

I

[It takes a long moment and a wave washing over her prone body, before Lucretia peels herself off the sand, spitting out even more sand as she does. She is, in fact, mumbling to herself:]

Oh. Oh man. That reception-- it got a little more wild than I thought it was gonna be.

[As always, her tone drips with gravitas no matter what she's saying.

Lucretia raises her head, looks around--and frowns. Because this is not the beach she'd been expecting. There's no temple up there where two of her best regulators just got married. She's fairly sure this is not the coast of the Stillwater Sea. This might not even be Faerun.

She rummages around for her stone of farspeech--but that's gone. And pressing her bracer does absolutely nothing.]

Ah, hell.

II

[Sitting on a park bench, Lucretia skims through the pamphlets she's gathered, making notes in a notebook she's procured somewhere along the way. Suddenly she frowns,] Okay, [she says to herself.] Okay, uh, is it just me or are these "monsters" [She manages to do the airquotes thing without letting go of her pen.] mostly just monstrous humanoids?

[There's a difference. And hell, gerblins (or 'goblins' she guesses) are even a race!]

Edited 2018-07-19 21:37 (UTC)

03 - seek us out

(The whispering is a bit much. Lucretia tries to let it sit in the shell of her ear like a tickle, but eventually she finds she can't drown it out– and isn't it enough, that she already has so much on her mind? Does she really need somebody else's input, too? She stands abruptly, taking herself away from the bonfires, where she had been watching the dancers sing and chant.

Drawing away from the fires makes the whisper lessen. The 's' sounds become less pronounces, less of a hiss. Lucretia allows herself to idly wander, following whichever way makes the little whisper dull inside her head, changing her course whenever it ramps up again. It leads her to an old, rundown building filled with broken machines: flickering and spinning, bright colours harsh on her eyelids when she blinks.

What is one supposed to do here, exactly? She's never seen an arcade before.

She's watching one of the pinball machines curiously, when she turns away with purpose– and accidentally crushes something small and mechanical underneath of her foot. Upon closer examination, it seems to be a little robot of some kind. Others from further away seem to be wheeling themselves over to investigate with haste; Lucretia scoops the damaged thing into both her hands, and gives it a little shake. She really doesn't know anything about robotics!)

Are... you alright? (????????)

04 - angel at my table (cw gore, blood, injury)

(Ever since she's woken up on this strange planet without a name, without any of her compatriots, Lucretia's been feeling a little light-headed. Perhaps it's due to the planet itself? Perhaps the atmosphere is thinner here. Wouldn't be the first time they've weathered cycles with such drawbacks. The difference between them is this time she seems to have no gear, no access to the ship... no help at all.

And she's in pain. It's something bordering on feverish; she's hot all over, limbs shaking. It's hard to see. There's a bright halo of light at the corner of her eyes so bright that it makes her eyes want to shut and her shoulders... that's where the pain has localised, intensified, bringing her to her knees in the street. Something hot and wet is dripping down her back, down the inside of her shirt.

Lucretia's not sure she has the breath left to even ask for help. When her new wings finally pierce and break the skin she inhales sharply and chokes on a sob. It hurts, it hurts. The light is blindingly strong about her now, the halo atop her head brightening in reaction to her distress. She's like a beacon bowed on the pavement, her forehead pressed against the cool concrete, her hands clenched into fists, nails digging into her skin as her bloodied, dripping wings slowly extend into the air, spattering the back of her ruined shirt with gore.

At least the shirt was already red?)

05 - wildcard

(wanna throw a monster her way? have her react to your character changing? i'm down for anything!)

i.

[Murdoc just got done with that stupid plastic beach chapter of his life. He was just settled into a nice apartment in Eastern London with his band members after years of being separated and now he's here. On a beach. A damn! Beach!

Frustrated, the bassist gets to his feet and starts brushing himself off, turning his head to spit out some sand that had gotten in his mouth when he washed upon the shore. He was sick of being away from home, can't he just have one day where nothing went completely haywire?

...apparently not, since he just turned around to a line of people all holding guns and pointing them right at him. Slowly, Murdoc raises his arms above his head, snarling at them with the look of a man who knew that he deserved whatever the fuck was going to happen.]

Shit.

ii.

[Distantly (or if you're unlucky, not so distantly at all) there's the sound of laughter erupting on the streets. The source being a green fellow with a hand over his eyes, laughing his ass off at a pamphlet in his other hand.]

Demons?! You lot really think it's possible to just turn into a- i-into a demon?!

[His laughs start to calm down a little, and he wipes a tear from his eye as he hands the pamphlet back to the villager who had given it to him. They scurry off quickly, and he nudges whomever the nearest person is with a rather amused expression on his face.]

Did'ja hear that? They think people can just turn into demons! I'll tell 'ya it's a lot harder than prayin' to Satan while listening to your favourite My Chemical Romance album in your little bedroom, so you can get back at your mother for making you wear a proper suit for prom.

[Murdoc pulls a bottle of whisky out of who the fuck knows where and downs quite a bit of it before he continues.]

Ooohhhh, that's quite nice. Goes down a bit like gasoline. Now, I- I'll tell you about a rrrreal demon. A demon that goes by the name of so-bri-e-ty. Betcha' haven't heard of that one before.

wildcard.

[if youve got something else in mind just throw it at me im Here]

Threaded | Flat

2D | Gorillaz | ota

Aoi "Santa" Kurashiki | Zero Escape | OTA, will match format

Makoto Kikuchi | THE iDOLM@STER | OTA, will match format!

Dr. Newton Geiszler / Pacific Rim Uprising

Juno Steel | The Penumbra Podcast | OTA

John | The Adventure Zone | Will Match Format; Beware Story and Song Spoilers!

zelos wilder | tales of symphonia