Test drive meme: January

[ryslighelpers]

TEST DRIVE MEME: NOVEMBER JANUARY

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.

Comments

iii

[scholiast]

(Lucretia is not changing so much as simply struggling to be out in the streets at night. Nephilim are... 'allergic', to the dark. There's a joke about being up past her bedtime somewhere but she can't find the strength to make it, as she's currently dissolving rapidly in the middle of the street. Thankfully the moonlight seems to be helping with holding her together, but as it is she's flickering, hazy at the edges, and her skin has lost its lovely, golden glow entirely.

She might have looked like a human if not for her tail, thrashing about her, or her four eyes, two of which are currently screwed shut in a prolonged wince. This does not feel fantastic.)

No, thank you– (Somebody is holding something against the general concept of her mouth. Lucretia shakes her head and puts an elbow up, trying to lift herself. She feels positively weightless, like she may blow away in the wind.) You know, I read all about this but I– didn't think that it would affect me quite so much as–

(Hmm. She's just raised her head and caught sight of the stranger, fangs and all. Yikes.)

[mamafell]

What, can't handle the stuff? [ there's an edge to her voice, almost taunting - but if lucretia's not one to drink she's not one to press. she shrugs, taking ] Best get your practice in if you've a mind to get through this. Not an arcanist or conjurer in sight around 'ere.

[ when lucretia looks up at her, she doesn't waste time in baring her teeth back. it's almost a smile. almost? the blood trickling through parts of her gums doesn't really help the whole look. ]

[scholiast]

I can handle it, thank you, but I try not to handle anything offered by somebody I don't know. Big, uh, stranger danger vibes.

(This is big chat for a woman who is almost curled in a fetal position on the ground but Lucretia is doing her best. The blood really does not help, it only makes her sigh and close her eyes again.) If you are going to eat me could I convince you that I probably would taste terrible? I'm– I've been stressed out for... oh, five-sixths of my life, now, I can't imagine a single bit of me would be tender.

[mamafell]

Suit yourself.

[ she swishes the spit around in her mouth before spitting out a large red glop of it to the side. that's... definitely a tooth in there, innit. not the greatest prognostication for her. she takes the swig of whiskey for herself instead, only wincing a bit as it passes over her poor gums. ]

Eat you? Menphina's teats, lass, who do you take me for? [ that merits a second swig. that's how stupid that idea is, lucretia. ] You're changing like any o'the others, ain'tcha? And me, why, I'm a kind passerby, who just happened to find you in the street.

[ kanana you're... really not selling your case. like, at all. in any way. ]

[scholiast]

(Oh, good lord. Lucretia thankfully does not see the tooth go but she does hear the wet spatter of random gore hitting the ground and she has a very active imagination, so, honestly, it's just as bad.)

Excuse me, I'm– over one hundred years old, (she manages weakly, stubbornly, because she objects to being called anything other than her name, thanks,) and I'm not changing. Nephilim cannot function in the darkness. I'm losing my form.

You're some kind of– uh, (she does have to peek an eye open to look, now. Jeezy creezy, it's still pretty bad up there. There's a lot of blood involved in the quick view that she gets.) Werewolf, or– something, so begging your pardon for assuming the worst of you.