TEST DRIVE MEME: SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER

[ryslighelpers]

TDM: SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER

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

Robert E. O. Speedwagon | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

[speedweed]

[One]

Why the hell was he waking up drenched and feeling as if his lungs were on fire? Last he remembered, he hadn't been doing anything that would have put him near the ocean and surely nothing that would have gotten him beaten up. Well, not this time, anyway.

Either way he's making an annoyed noise as he's coughing up a good chunk of water to get his lungs back to some semblance of order while ignoring the rest of the pain along his body. He's had way worse, after all, some scratches and cuts are nothing.

What is a problem is that his three layers of clothing is thoroughly soaked and he's not particularly keen on getting rid of them. Until he's glancing around to make sure no one else is in the particular vicinity and managing to push himself up to stand and just casually remove his coat, sweater vest, tie, and dress shirt to set them up to hopefully dry to a decent degree in a decent amount of time. The dress pants can stay, the shoes and socks are set alongside the rest of his clothing. How annoying.

[Two]

Being offered free stuff in a foreign place isn't an uncommon occurrence for him, having traveled a good bit of the world somehow and made friends with the locals of whatever area he'd happened to wander into at that time. But there's this undertone of just fright that he can't quite pinpoint until someone points out the pamphlets.

"Local information?" He's muttering softly to himself before casually taking one to flip through and frowning immediately. Changing into monsters? Different types? Eating human flesh? This has to be some kind of joke.

"... This cannot be true." There's also one monster he's pausing on in particular with a particularly startled expression he tries to hide just as quickly. Anyone paying attention might notice that it's vampire in particular.

Great. Just great.

[Three]

Seek them out? What?

Not that he gets to ponder on that for long before he finds himself in a new place that is absolutely blinding and loud. Luckily finding yourself in Bavan and not on the streets of it at least helps somewhat to let you get your bearings straight. But damn is it ever brighter than the streets of London ever were and he's not even sure if it's day or night in this place.

"What the bloody hell is this mess?" He's hissing more to himself than anything else, finding the nearest wall to lean against and use his hat to help filter out a bit of light to get a good look at the area around him.

Lights, people walking to and fro as if this is perfectly normal. Buildings that reach higher than any cathedral he's ever seen in his life... This was absolutely absurd.

Unfortunately there's a particularly brave fellow that's deciding it's a good idea to come up to his side with a gun. A small smirk plays on his lips as he's not making a move until that poor man is finding himself against the wall, one of Speedwagon's hands on his wrist that he's twisting and the other pushing his chest to the wall.

"My dear sir, you really have picked the worst person here to try and rob. I don't carry the currency here, nor am I unfamiliar to your methods. Perhaps it'd be best to survey your target before deciding on your mark." Trying to rob a former street thug leader is probably not the smartest moves, not that he looks like one.

two

[peccatore]

if you ask Marco, he's paying a reasonable amount of attention to a stranger on the street who is clearly new to this place. Which is to say: he's paying just enough attention to realise that this man is new here, but certainly not enough to understand what, exactly, has him so startled.

(Of course, Marco might very well sympathise, if only on a surface level.)

In any case, it's time for him to do what he always tries to do when he sees a lost or frightened or confused newcomer: help, to varying degrees of success.

"I'm afraid it is. Well... It depends on what you're reading, I suppose. The last time I checked, there were still plenty of inaccuracies in some of those pamphlets."

Jonathan Joestar | Jojo's Bizarre Adventure

[standless]

[1| Onshore Arrival]

"Kgh...KACK..."

He was coughing.

It didn't quite register right away that this meant he was breathing. Jonathan was too busy coughing salt water from his stinging lungs, his arms and body covered extensively with scratches and cuts. There was sand under his hands though, he realized. The ocean water was lapping against him, and there was sand. How odd though, Jonathan thought. After all, a moment ago...

...

A moment ago he was dead. "...Wasn't I dying?" He thought to no one in particular, eyes blinking away the dust of sleep as he forced himself to his feet. Jonathan looked over his hands, the fog around him swirling about. "I was attacked, and..."

Hands flew to his neck, feeling for wounds that were not there. His eyes wide as he looked around, he felt his breathing- so well controlled, normally- fly from control. That's right. He had been dying. Dio had attacked, striking his throat and crippling his ripple and-

Calm yourself. Jonathan swallowed, and Breathed, steadying his focus. Calm. Calm...bring the breathing back into...

....

His breath was steady, but the sensation of the ripple was still gone.

Though it remained steady, Jonathan's thoughts continued to whirl. Had he somehow healed himself after he blacked out, so certain it would be the last time he closed his eyes? Had he somehow survived both that and the explosion, only to lose that power he had worked to master? Only to float...

Here?

...

Dio's head-

"Mngh- If someone were to find Dio, even in this state...He could easily kill them!" Jonathan realized, rushing along the beach. He couldn't be far...He held that man's head so tightly after all, he couldn't..!

"Where..." But then where was he?! "Where-!"

And Where was this!?

[2 | Information Packets]

Dio, for better or worse, is not here. He himself is here, as he notes to himself quietly yet audibly when the matter sticks, but Dio absolutely isn't which he presumes means his former 'brother' of sorts is somewhere at the bottom of the sea.

Concerning, given that the last time that had happened Dio found a way to come back. Perhaps it wouldn't happen this time? He no longer had the help of one of his turned zombies after all, no allies or servants to come to his aid (best he could tell)...

...

It was still concerning.

Everything was concerning truthfully however. As he attempted to ascertain his wherabouts, he had found himself at a complete loss- as a young boy he had not vacationed very far from home ultimately. His interests in the world had come largely from books, and while it had fed a capable mind for research it did not leave the sort of experience that his friend Speedwagon had.

He felt certain, somehow, that Speedwagon would have been able to determine where this was. His friend was not here however, nor was his dear wife (and he hoped beyond hope that this meant she had indeed escaped to safety), so there would be no relying upon outside advice. He simply needed to use what was around him.

The fog here was unlike any fog he had ever seen- thick, and oppressing, yet clean, clear of all the smoke and ash of London's own. And as he made his way to the town near the shoreline it seemed this sort of fog was nothing that the people were unfamiliar with as well.

Very...helpful people, or so it seemed. "Oh- Please, I simply couldn't take this," he insists numerous times as people attempt to pass him food and luxuries. There is a fear in their eyes he notices, a desperation that sends shudders down his spine. He keeps his palms open, and forward facing, doing his best to politely refuse the gifts.

Somehow a coat has found its way around his shoulders anyway, the culprit gone before he could even attempt to return it. "Please- It would be too imposing; all I ask is to know where I am."

The people are nervous. An old fisherman watching affairs from a storefront entry smokes their pipe, leering with a judging glare. "Vandare," the old man huffs out. "Ye ain't welcome here."

Jonathan, in his quiet alarm, has ultimately ended up with a basket of cheeses and breads forced over his arm, and seems even less aware that the crowd is growing uneasy enough to prepare sharper implements than little food knives.

[3 | Beep-Boop Arcade (Bc that's never happening in Game laughs)]

"What...Is this place..?" It isn't as if Science-Fiction never existed in Jonathan's day. He'd read such works as Frankenstein and Twenty Thousand Leagues, and many others in his youth. A good book was nothing short of the greatest adventure one could have in the dark of night without leaving the home, or so his father would tell him.

'Seek Us Out'. Perhaps he shouldn't have listened. There is a strange sensation he gets from this 'room from nowhere', and it is not the result of all the lights around him. "I've never even seen such devices in the drawings of novels...and yet they all seem to serve some sort of purpose perfectly," he observes quietly, peering at the game consoles as he walks about. He should turn around, perhaps. He should leave. But there is that curiosity ringing in his ears, or perhaps something else.

"Just who made these..."

[4 | I've the Nastiest Headache]

The fog has returned again. When it came mid month, he had wondered if the people of this place- 'monster' and man alike (though it was quite clear that the 'monsters' were no less man than any who looked human here), were pulling some sort of wool over his eyes. A small, but no less cruel trick for a weary victim of shipwreck with no apparent way home. The mountains were impassible, reportedly- research into that spoke heavily of it at least. The waters as well became impossible to sail upon beyond a certain point, reducing the timbers to matchsticks.

There was without a doubt some sort of way around these things- he would seek it, and find it- but in the middle of the month when the fog had brought nothing that others spoke of he had felt hopeful.

At least until someone insisted that it was the end of the month that would be messy.

Jonathan's head is pounding. He is far from the sort to allow a headache to bring temper upon him however, and with that in mind as he tenderly rubs his aching head he attempts to find his way to some sort of pharmacy. They will surely have what can ease a headache he tells himself as he walks through the heavy fog.

He does not expect the pharmacist at the front table to immediately back against a wall when he enters, however. Nor does he expect them to reach for...

Oh-

Jonathan's hands are held as placatingly as possible, even if his mind is already pondering what ways he might dodge the unnervingly quick bullets of 'Ryslig's weapons. What way to safely disarm the fellow without harm. What way to- "Please," he speaks, swallowing as the pharmacist cautiously begins to lower the gun anyway. "I've come only for medicine- there's no need to fear."

So he says- but as he catches a glimpse at himself in the glass beside him, he can't help but wonder if the man was right to reach for his weapon.

His headache isn't so severe, he's finding- perhaps the fact that a set of long horns have already broken the skin at his brow is why.

...

He can't even find the words to say.

Re: Jonathan Joestar | Jojo's Bizarre Adventure

[missleadingquestions]

This isn't the first time Maya's washed up on the shores alongside a bunch of newbies. No, this time it's more annoying than alarming, but the beach is far south from here Maya thinks she still lives-- so there's no need to rush away. She can afford to spend some time helping out the Fog God's new faves... Especially since she needs to dry out this mermaid tail before she can get going through Vandare.

And this one really does look like he might need the help. Maya spends a few moments watching Jonathon fret before she interrupts.

"Um, mister?" The mermaid asks from a few feet away, propped up where she's dragged herself to some rocks that kind of, sort of look tall enough to maybe avoid the tide. "Are you alright over there?"

And who, she wonders, is Dio?

The Buttwitch | Twelve Forever | OTA

[derrieredemon]

Scenario 2

This place is terrible! She woke up here soaking wet and totally unable to use her powers, and Big Deal wasn't even here to make her feel better. The streets were crowded, and even though this place wasn't just so trivial and garish as Endless Island had become, no matter how hard she sniffed she couldn't capture the common scents of discord and insecurity she had been so starved for. It just smelled like... seawater and insistent people.

She felt even worse than she had at home, and she didn't even look right! The creature Reggie happily called "The Buttwitch" (you can and should call her anything else, she'll pick later.) is no longer a green-and-red skinned curvaceous beauty with lavender hair, sharp teeth, and a long snake's tongue. She's just a normal curvaceous beauty with lavender hair.

Someone shoves a pamphlet in her face and she scowls, snatching it away before crushing it and hurling the useless piece of paper away, probably hitting an innocent passerby.

"This is awful! Can someone not spewing inane garbage explain to me what's happening.?"

Scenario 4- Gargoyle

The time has come for this fog god to give her at least some of her power back. Nothing could compare to her beautiful body back home, but anything would suffice. It would be nice to just flex her back and sprout those extra arms she had been missing so much when the fog finally came to her.

It did not, apparently, work that way.

As soon as she feels the change coming on, the witch flexes and stretches, making a big deal of grinning. Coming back into her power...

until the pain begins and he woman crumples, the beginning of laughter quickly becoming a shriek of pain as large scaly wings tear their away out of her back, leathery stone-dotted wings dripping with plasma.

"Wrong! This is all wrong! Somebody help me!"

2!

[lizardgurl4sale]

All the commotion of the new arrivals has attracted one strange beast who wouldn't be out of place on a demented Lisa Frank poster.

The first thing she does when she gets close is chase after the discarded paper to bat it around on the ground. She was a cat, this was normal. However, her ears swivel as she hears some confused complaint... This was definitely a new person. And probably someone she could get along with!

She rushes up to the newbie on all fours, only going into a bipedial stance once she's right in front of her.

"You're new, huh?" The winged cat woman grins, "Hope you like having claws, 'cause everyone who winds up here turns into some kinda monster sooner or later."

[standless]

Jonathan, when the changes initially hit, had simply gone to the pharmacy in hopes of some pain medication.

He was rather alarmed to find that he was not being given something such as laudanum (at the very least, he knew it was the most common perscription for pain), but something called 'Asprin'. He had no idea what Asprin was, frankly, but apparently it would do the trick without any of the side effects laudanum brought along with it (which, he'd also heard tales of and was therefore at least somewhat relieved to hear).

Naturally by the time he'd even made it to the pharmacy, his own...changes were done. Simple things, but no less alarming given that it was a set of large horns right from his head. He hadn't even realized they were there until he'd looked into a mirror.

He was still reminding himself they were there now.

But all the same it felt impolite to barge into a pharmacy without purchasing something, and if word from others who had been here longer was to be trusted- and given the horns, it most certainly was- so he'd left with a bottle of asprin caplets.

"My goodness..!" For a moment he could assume the woman on the street has entered hysteria, the laughter that enters the air- and as it becomes screaming, he acts immediately. He has these medications on hand after all- and he can't stand idly by! "Here," he insists, already holding out the small jar with one hand and taking his jacket off with the other. "I've been told they help with pain...we can use this coat to handle the bleeding as well," Jonathan continues, focused entirely on helping this 'poor' young woman.

Adam Young | Good Omens (tv)

[hogback]

001.

Tadfield is not a seaside town. Which is how Adam knows instantly that he's not where he's meant to be. Last he knew, he was riding his bike towards Hogback Wood, on his way to meet up with his cohorts the Them. He coughs harshly, lungs protesting the seawater in his throat. "Dog?" He calls out. "Pepper? Brian? Wensleydale?" Then, more tentative and hopeful, "...Mum? Dad? Anyone?"

002.

[ Adam has every available pamphlet spread out on the ground in front of him, poring over each one in turn. He has always eaten up new information like it was food he needed to live, and this is no different.

He can hardly believe what he's reading, but then... The limits of Adam's belief are malleable and ever-expanding. His only worry is that, even if these pamphlets aren't true, by reading them, he will make them so.

Still, he has to know. He asks the first person he sees-- be they human-shaped or monstrous, young or old. Anyone who looks like they've been here longer than he has. ]

Is-is all this real? Hairy trouts? Bunnyipyips? Am I going to turn into a monster?

Wildcard

[ hmu @ objectpermanenceto plot something else! ]

001

[speedweed]

Lord, he'd only been figuring this out for a few minutes or so himself and then suddenly there's someone else on this damn beach as well. He's sighing to himself as he turns to look to see just who it was this time, to inform them he has no idea what's going on, until he's realizing it's a kid.

Great.

Grand.

Well, it could probably be worse since he doesn't seem to be panicking at the very least, but the sight of some ridiculously tall man with just his pants and a checkered top hat on is probably not the best of impressions. In his defense, the rest of his clothing is very clearly drying nearby.

And he's keeping his distance.

"Doubt you'll find what you're looking for here, lad. I'd venture we're further from home simply due to the lack of inhabitants in the area. Or, well, seeing any beach without anyone here is quite an odd sight." His accent also probably sounds ridiculous, given it's just rather weird and old with hints of English with other stuff mixed in. Don't question it too much.

Kettara Bloodthirst | World of Warcraft | OTA

[oldtonew]

Two

[ Kettara has been handed a number of pamphlets, or had them thrown at her in a few cases, and has spread the lot of them in front of her in a semi circle. She’s read through a few of them but has since begun crumbling the rest into balls.

Two axes lay at her side. She glares at anyone who approaches, jerking her tusks at them. Apparently this place has opinions about monsters and she already looks like one. It’s put her in a foul mood. She could do without all the reminders of her childhood and the hateful, stupid humans. ]

If you mean to say something, know I will respond.

[ She narrows her red eyes and gives a meaningful look at the blades. Part of her hopes for an insult, something she can respond to with violence. That, at least, would be perfectly simple. ]

Four

[ Kettara can be found sitting on the beach where she first washed up, examining her hands with great care. Her gauntlets and bracers have been removed and lay next to her, along with her weapons.

She has grown claws. Thick, black, and made for cutting. And though she stiffens when she hears someone approaching, she makes no move to stand or face them. Instead, she flexes her hands. Her reach is different now. She’ll have to make adjustments when she fights or holds a weapon. ]

I did not believe them. I thought surely it was a trick, or some stupid, human game.

[ Her voice is soft. Resigned. ]

The ancestors are punishing me.

Four!

[sinsation]

Punishing you?

[Cathy doesn't just appear out of thin air at the mere mention of punishment, she swears. She was just in the area at the time, really! Mulling over these strange new 'monster changes,' though, is something that immediately concerns her with relevance. She currently bears an extra pair of eyes closed below her regular pair, and her stump of a left arm seems to have sprouted feathers.

(Her hair has gotten longer, too, but she figures that's just been a matter of being here for awhile.)

She stares down at the woman on the beach. The air smells lighter as she stands there.]

Punishment is left up to the living to deliver, [she declares rather matter-of-factly.] What makes you think a spirit has it out for you?

Maya Fey | Ace Attorney trilogy + Professor Layton VS Ace Attorney | Re-app

[missleadingquestions]

What's up, Foggy Baby?

[Maya has found herself in Ryslig, once again, with absolutely no memory of leaving. But this time? This time is different. This time feels different. The fog rolls in as it normally does and leaves the new children of the fog on the beach, and normally this would be no problem for Maya, who has not had a fog form.

Until now.

There's an eerie singing coming from past some rocks, each sound fairly short and staccato as Maya, much bigger than before, tries to pull herself up the craggy rocks she seems to be beached on.

She has no legs! A big, blubbery body, sure, but one with no legs, that's stuck on those rocks. And even if she could pull herself up-- where would she go, then? But worst of all is this terrible second mouth. It's actually almost like her body is being eaten up by the lower half, the full mouth shape of an orca taking form of her belly. The part of her belly where the white markings would match an orca's mouth has become a lower jaw, revealing a long tongue and sharp teeth. The tongue periodically licks at the jaw, or just kind of hangs out, occasionally getting a shocked noise from Maya.

A daring human approaches to see what's going on, but when they catch sight of Maya from the top of the rocks- a shadowy giant woman with a glowing face, singing eerie noises while she pulls at the rocks-- that human loses their bravery and runs for their life (rightfully), kicking stones all the way.

And that is finally enough to prove to Maya her situation right now... Is pretty hopeless. Her mouth turns into a perfect upturned C before she starts sobbing, laying over top of rocks that she can't care are uncomfortable right now. (At least they keep that belly mouth mostly shut.) She quickly notices though-]

I can't even cry right anymore!

[As her sounds are all mixed up with dolphin clicks and whistly, sing-song noises. It doesn't even sound like a lament as much as it does.. A mess. It is fairly loud, though.]

[adandyinspace]

[It is really loud, loud enough for Dandy to hear it even before he gets out of his vehicle, he grimaces when he pulls up and parks his hunk of junk. He just wanted to have a good, fun time at the beach, that's all. Is it really that much to ask? It's not very often he gets to spend fog days all normal, a little celebratory relaxation would've been exactly what he needed.

But no, he somehow made it to the crying convention and...well...there's not much he can do. As much as he wants to throw a fit, Dandy's always been too soft for his own good, people are allowed to cry.

Damn it...and it's not like he can just ignore it, either. His only other option is to attempt some kind of peptalk and hope it works.]

HEY!! [The fog's so thick, he's not even sure who he's shouting at.] You think you can just come here and challenge me to some kinda...click off?! I'll have you know I am the KING of clicking, baby!!

[Dumb distractions count as a peptalk, right?]

Catherine "Cathy" Ward | Angels of Death | OTA

[sinsation]

[ON THE BEACH: THE MORNING STAR]

[ It's the scent of gunpowder that hits her senses first, and for a moment it's as if she was never in the ocean in the first place.

For a moment, it's like she's back "home," back in her last conscious moments in her final execution chamber on B3, the must of rapid-fire machines staining the very air she breathed. Gunpowder and blood, that was what was filling her lungs in the last breath she can recall, and she can still taste the latter in her mouth as she sits up, spits, and finally takes a look around.

Cathy is not on B3, bleeding out and barely conscious. She's on a beach, and there's no blood in her mouth. There's no blood pouring out of her stomach, out of her arm. Her clothes are still torn, but her wounds are healed.

Her throat is suddenly prodded. The metal is cold, and she realises that the gunpowder smell is stronger and in fact real. ]

Another one for the sand and sea, [ she hears, but the words feel distant as she suddenly collapses in her attempt to right herself, the expected support of her arms all but missing because...

...it seems she's still missing an arm after all. ]


[IN THE CITY: THE SHEPHERD'S LOST LAMB]

[ Vandare manages to provide no more a comforting atmosphere than the beach. Though she managed to make it here with her life intact, the emptiness surrounding Cathy is nigh-overwhelming. Lonely she is not, but being truly alone breeds uneasiness. Something is wrong. People are scared.

She shivers. A nice old woman offered her a ratty patchwork coat back closer to the coast, but she's still soaked, and she's hardly dressed for this kind of chilly weather. She's hardly seen anyone since.

It's like she's been pulled into an old horror movie, indeed.

Distantly, she spots a young man, the first person in sight for several minutes. ] Where is everyone? [ she calls, but the second her voice greets the air, the man takes off. Her eyes narrow.

Great.

She rubs the fresh (but not bleeding) stump of her arm with an unimpressed sigh. ] What's everyone's deal...? [ she murmurs to herself. Does her reputation precede her? Does she even have a knowable reputation? ]


[IN THE CUBE: THE ANGEL OF DEATH]

[ The scent of carnations fills the room.

The Cube is, and has always been, impersonal. Cold. Waiting. It is a palace of wounds built upon the hatred of those who use it, a place full of sinners ripe for the picking.

She spreads her arms and sings. ]

Welc̸͈̚͝o̴m̴͉͑ȇ̷͕̰!

[ She stares upon her newfound victim with four unblinking eyes. Her hair falls into a mane around her neck, and from her back arch three feathered wings. She still lacks one arm, but from the wound stretch a whole flock's worth of small wings, crooked and suffocating in their own space. A mysterious light illuminates her from behind, though she casts no shadow upon the walls. It is as if she isn't real, isn't there.

The ambient wind still howls between her wings. ]

Can you fè̶̩ẻ̴̢̻l̵͍̔ ̴̹̔i̸̧̼̽͂t? The weight of yò̶̭̙u̵͉̅ȓ̵̬̦͝ gư̸i̵lt pressing on your shoul̷̦̎d̴͇̆́͜ȩ̶͉̈́r̴̩̃s?

[ She crosses her legs and smiles. ]

I am quite̷͎͌̉ ̶͇̪̎f̵̞̭̆͆á̵̦̪̈m̴͈̏̌ȉ̸̭̖l̶̢̩͛ḯ̶̟̇a̴̗͊̓r with punishing ş̸̆in̶͈̈́n̴ȩ̶̦̔͆r̵͠s,̵͍̫̔̔ you know. It w̶̖̳̅a̷̗͆s my duty bac̸̝̟͌k̷̘͒ ̶̮͑̎ẖ̶̥̋̕ỏ̵̺͎me, and so I have nobly tẩ̵̱k̵̙̄è̵͔n up̵̮͕͐̕ ̵̺͉̊my m̴̤̜͐͝a̶̗̣͒̃n̵̢̹̓̂t̸͓̱̅͂lê̵͙͇̈́ once more here. And d̵̓on̴͛'̷͉̊̔t̷̤͜͠ ̵̪̹̚͝w̷͔̹̎ô̵̮r̶r̸͉̃y, dear sinner! Though my resources may bȩ̴͍͝ ̷̏ḽ̴͔̾͊ȁ̴ckin̷͚̽ǧ̵͍͊ here, I simply have ne̴̡̎w̵̺͖͗̋ ̷̤̌to̶̢͑̈́õ̵͇̗l̶̝̔s ̴͘͝ͅt̷̼̙̒̍o experiment wit̷̼̳͝h̴.̸̹̣͒.̶̹̘͑͊.̶̜̬̑

Are yo̷̘̊u̴͙̍ ̸̖̆p̷̹͠r̷̦̚e̷͝ͅpared to fac̷̙͝e̸̩̿ ̸̭̿d̶̥́iv̷͎̈́ĭ̷̲ne pun̷̡̈ī̴̝shm̴̼͘ê̵͙n̸̩͒t̷̎͜?̸͕̐

[ How do you figure into this scene? Have you come from another floor of The Cube and stumbled upon the two figures? Or are you the one that Cathy has brought to this chamber to face punishment?

What will you do? ]


[WILDCARD: got something else in mind? send me an inbox message or friend+message me at halcyonesselion!]

In the City: In which a guy I used to play here makes a cameo

[zackthekiller]

[If Cathy was looking for company, she might want to be more careful about what she wishes for. It seems her complaints were overheard, and now a curious mechanical nightmare is poking his head out of an alleyway to see what the fuss was about.

His rigid features cannot betray much emotion, but the eyelids go up once he spots the one armed woman wandering about.]

Oh, for fuck's sake! [The robot bitterly grumbles.] How the hell are you still alive?!

[If the bloodied clothes weren't familiar, that voice coming out of his internal speakers might be a dead giveaway.]

Harleen Quinzel | DC Comics

[dr_smashy]

[Scenario 1]

Harley wakes up drenched on the beach, immediately coughing up water and choking. It takes her a while to come back to herself which is why she's slow to respond when someone sticks a rifle in her face.

Slower than normal at least.

"My, what a big weapon! Can I hold it?"

She attempts to wrench it away, but the man knocks her onto her butt again, his friends moving closer.

"Just asking." She holds her hands up, getting up slowly and shakily and then kicking him in the face with the full force of her gymnastics training, grabbing the gun and beating the next two guys with guns over the head with it."

A little help? Or maybe you want to wait until she's panting and three of the other guys are gone.

"They seemed nice."

[Werewolf thing]

There's a screaming woman in the alley, howling as her bones lengthen and shorten, her neck thickens and face goes pointier.
"AAAaaaaaaaaaaaaa hahaha! Hoo! Hahaha!" It quickly turns into a pained hyena bark. It takes Harley a moment to stop flailing but when she does she gets to her feet and wow. Everything smells good.

Especially the dumpster right now.

[Simulacrum]

It's a store. Maybe used clothing, maybe toys. Anyway there's this soft, incessant ticking sound from somewhere. The shelves are jammed with junk and there's a life size creepy, smiling harlequin doll/mannequin propped up in the corner, one of those that look like their eyes are following you everywhere.

Then it moves.

"Hey! This is a stickup!" Harley brandishes a rifle at the clerk. "Just give me the money and I'll be outa your hair.

Sorry, Bats. A girl's gotta live."

SCENARIO 1 (Let me know if you need me to edit anything!)

[standless]

[[OOC - I actually went to look up if he could do this with an age appropriate shotgun and I was very pleased with the answer]]

Having spent a good amount of time searching frantically for a vampiric head, Jonathan is slowly coming to terms with the bleak possibility that he may, in fact, have lost Dio's head.

Also he might be dead? He's not entirely sure. Being alive doesn't seem especially likely, as much as a foggy beach could easily be the spot to wash up upon when capsizing a few days out from Britain. But between his healed injuries (admittedly accompanied by others) and a distinct unfamiliarity about everything, it seems...possible.

Perhaps it's hell. He did strive to be a good person in life, but no doubt having to leave his wife the way he did would be deserving of punishment- no one should have to watch their loved one pass away before their eyes.

Oddly, it's the sound of a woman's voice which grabs his attention- it's then the astonishment of her actions as she proceeds to not only disarm someone attacking her, but then strike back at the others.

(Very good! But there's no time to admire that-!)

Someone is being attacked! And while they're doing well to defend themselves, it's clear that help is nothing to deprive them of.

"It's not polite to strike a lady while she's down..!" is all one of the recovering gunmen hear, having briefly prepared to try and get a lucky shot in while the other two were the primary focus.

Suffice to say the gun is snatched- it is also snapped like a twig over his knee, leaving nothing but the barrel half and the handle half between a now terrified would be shooter and Jonathan.

Somehow, Jonathan doesn't look mad. Just disappointed.

Kaoru Seta | Bang Dream | ota lol

[fleetingintelligence]

A.

[Kaoru is nothing if not a master of denial, which is why when she wakes up completely drenched and her mouth full of sand while wearing her phantom thief attire, she just instantly assumes it was part of Kokoro's stunts. Also that it went a little wrong, but that's okay, she's had dramatic fainting fits over this kind of thing before.

And then, when she starts to explore and make her way off the beach, because frankly, it's kind of creepy and she hates that... she doesn't completely expect to find herself staring down the barrel of a shotgun. Is this part of an act? It has to be, right? Who would do that kind of thing to her??

So she holds up her hands, smiling like there's absolutely nothing wrong in the world and chuckling.]

Hahaha, I must say! No one's ever managed to get so close to the Happy Phantom Thief—I applaud the skill it must have taken to get me into such a situation—

[Can someone please save her.]

B.

[By now, she's shed the mask that covered her face and perhaps the cape because it was just dirty and likely easier to just replace. Once she found Kokoro, at least. Her clothes don't feel much better, but even Kaoru isn't about to run around the middle of town completely naked with people she doesn't know. Her standards aren't the highest, but still. Even so, Kaoru is still assuming she's in Tokyo and that even the monsters are just costumes or something, so she'll stop them:]

Could you tell me where I am in Tokyo? I believe that I have never seen a place such as this... the architecture is fleetingly odd, hm~?

B

[missleadingquestions]

Hmm? Tokyo?

[Ah- that's something Maya hasn't heard recently; the confused voice of a newbie. But It was just recently, wasn't it? Regardless of the relative time span of her most recent greetings, Maya turns to face her questioner before she's-- kind of blown away by how Kaoru's dressed. Mussed up by the sea as she is, Kaoru still looks--]

So cool...! Your outfit, I mean, you just look so cool!

[Which. Is not an answer to Kaoru's question. But the inky blackness of Maya's skin and those white spots-- do those really look like a costume?]

Beetlejuice | (musical)

[polterguy]

CW just for general awfulness.
[One: New Best Friends]

"Sand amirite?"

[Confronted with a bunch of gun-wielding locals, the scruffy guy in the weird suit only chuckles.]

"You can see me!"

[Chuckling gives way to great whooping, relieved laughs as he tries to kiss the nearest nearest human, stopping only to pat himself down frantically like he's just lost his keys.]

"We have heartbeat! Oh yeah! We got lungs we got intestines flopping around in there. I'M ALIVE! oh shit, everything hurts, I forgot pain hurts. HOUSTON! WE HAVE MANIFESTATION!"

[He probably doesn't need rescuing.]

[Two]

[Beetlejuice returns the townspeople's own glares with malevolent glowers as he sulks on a park bench. Turns out getting what you wanted for centuries can be a letdown. Not only does pain exist, apparently being visible means people will throw you in jail overnight at the slightest provocation.]

Mmm. What's that?

[He yanks a pamphlet away from the vendor, then grabs another and another and snarls.]

Like turning into a snake's some kind of trick. I was literally manifesting snakes in people's homes before you were even a gleam in your daddy's eye."

[Three: Dyster]

Now this is more like it.

[He strolls into the bonfire party, smiling and making finger guns at the revelers.]

Hey! What's shaking? Nice scene you got here.

[He's not alone in this sacred place, no. In fact now is the perfect time to get religion and yell at the sky.]

HEY! Foggy, Fog, lady-Fog God, Your Fogginess. Believe me, I am thrilled to be noticed by a goddess. Though I have to admit I'm kind of on the rebound here. Be gentle yeah?

[He snorts with laughter.]

Seriously, though. It was just a greencard marriage, it's all over now. Done. Seriously. You ever want to do a very special one on one worship sesh, I am there! Take me to church already!

[Four]

[There is a normal size rabbit hopping around the city, dodging cars and causing accidents. How did this happen? Also why does it look slightly moldy?]

Hey, psst. Hey. You gonna eat that?

[The rabbit rears up on its hind legs, wiggling its nose adorably.]

one

[peccatore]

[Well, Marco was perfectly prepared to do what he usually does when he spots a new arrival being harassed by the locals - that is, help, potentially by being a little more threatening than he usually likes to be. But once he's close enough to hear what's going on, uh...

Well...

He's a little thrown off.]

Can I... help...?

[At least one of the humans seems to be strongly reconsidering how much he wants to be here already.]

Harry Potter | Books of the Same Name

[audax]

[ONE.]
With a sputtering cough, Harry lifts his head from the surf and pulls himself further up on shore. He's sore all over, scratched and bruised as if he'd been in a fight, but when he thinks back, that's not the last thing he remembers. Standing on the wet sand, he squints and shades his eyes before looking up and down the beach. There are a few people in either direction, but no shape he instantly recognizes. No wizarding hats or robes.

Frowning, he pats himself down checking for more serious injuries and then going very still. He checks again. His wand. He doesn't have it with him and ...and, and there's not even the tug of magic that comes before speaking a spell. He's afraid he knows what will happen, but he tries nonetheless: "Accio wand!"

[FOUR.]
He'd listened when others had warned him this was going to happen, but he'd held out hope that maybe he'd be lucky enough to avoid it. Harry didn't truly believe that would happen, but he doesn't beat himself up over a bit of foolish optimism. After all, it doesn't hurt to look on the bright side of things, provided you've prepared for the worst case scenario.

When his joints started to ache and click as if they were misaligned, Harry had taken himself somewhere quiet. He'd brought a blanket to sit on, a rucksack with spare clothing and food, and now just to see what would happen. Surprising himself, he lets out a short bark of laughter - what a morbid little picnic.

One

[pawntakesking]

Regulus is pulled up short by the words, the edges of his dark, shadowy form wavering. The voice is distant still, barely close enough to hear, but...

But accio. Accio wand. He hasn't heard anyone say that since... Well, since he arrived here, two years ago, most likely. Certainly not since Draco disappeared.

He breaks into a run, though his feet leave no marks in the sand; excitement and fear he hardly wants to admit to carries him a little above the ground, the featureless black of his robes drifting in the breeze, the sickly glow of his Dark Mark and the green-edged glow of his skull flickering like a reflection under the darkness. He's hardly a reassuring sight, looking more like a Dementor than a helpful stranger - but the white face that looks down at Harry is a human one, besides the blank white eyes; a young man's face, torn between joy and panic, and then, as he takes in the newcomer, a kind of dawning horror.

"...Potter?" He knows even as he says it that it's not right. It's been a long time since he saw James Potter (though, frankly, not as long as he would have liked), but he's pretty sure this isn't James Potter. Merlin, the resemblance is uncanny, though.

Javert | Les Misérables (Novel) | OTA

[inseine]

[one]

Javert never made it to Hell. He never made it to Heaven, either. That was unsurprising.

Instead he lay prostrate in the sand, his whole body throbbing and marred with blacks and blues and horrific marks. This? Indubitably shocking. He spluttered and vomited mouthfuls of sand and brackish water. Oxygen was like acid to reinvigorated lungs. Opening his eyes to the sun blinded him, so his head and eyes lolled uselessly and shamefully shut. He found he could hardly lift his leaden head up on his shoulders.

Javert's body was broken. His reeling mind fared little better.

"I've washed up!" A universe of pain in his whispered, gasping cry. Javert did not recognize his own voice. His throat was ravaged. He still tasted raw Seine waters on the tongue.

But how and where had he washed up? If he were in a more lucid state, he might have dimly noticed that it was not a riverbed that he had come to, but the sea. And this land looked markedly different than anywhere he had been in France.

Yet Javert did not get much further than taking those first few precious breaths. Soon enough, he heard the decisive click of a cocked gun, and he raised his eyes to find a barrel leveled straight to his temple.

[two]

The stares did not bother him. Javert was accustomed to living outside the pale of society, as grim, severe, and unsociable as he was. Unrelenting and strict police officers did not enjoy the luxury of pleasant company or open-armed acceptance. The stares were nothing.

The leaflets were a different story.

“What to Expect When You’re Expecting (To Turn Into A Monster). Dancing with Werewolves in the Moonlight: A How-To Guide from a Vegan Wolf Friend. Alternatives to Daily Consumption of Human Flesh,” Javert intoned dully and rapidly. He grimaced deeply, his eyes tracing over each of the words with growing irritation.

“What garbage is this? Some occultist manifestos? Utter nonsense.”

two

[polkayoureyesout]

"Unfortunately not."

A short, shiny feathered harpy is peering at him.

"Welcome to Ryslig and I'm sorry."

Inosuke Hashibira | Kimetsu no Yaiba

[pignacious]

[One]

[There seems to be a body lying motionless on the beach. It's a common place to find new arrivals to Ryslig, but it looks like this may not actually be a newcomer. After all, newcomers are human and this man (boy?? he is rather short...) seems to have the head of a boar.

He lies perfectly still until someone approaches, at which point, one of his hands will shoot out lightning fast to try to grab a their ankle.]

Ha HA!!

[Was this a trap???]


[Two]

GAAAAAAAAHH!!!!!!!

[It's not exactly clear what's going on, but Bavanites are scattering in every direction. At the center of the hubbub, pamphlets are flying in every direction. A rather underdressed young man is throwing them every which way in what seems to be a great big tantrum over...something. It looks like there's no end in sight until a taxi putters by, at which point the tantrum comes to an abrupt end as the young man recoils and starts to shake.]

Wha--.... what...

[Pamphlets continue to rain down around him as he points at the taxi in horror.]

One

[fireclock]

[Boar head notwithstanding, some people might be completely oblivious to motionless bodies on the beach if they don't happen to be in said people's direct line of sight and if said people just never bothered to look down.

That being the case, Polnareff is completely unprepared when something suddenly reaches out and grabs his ankle!]

What? Where did you---You were hiding under the sand! Lurking like a coward and waiting to attack!

[He reels back he noisily expounds on his terrible and completely unavoidable predicament, then grits his teeth and quickly aims a kick a the thing that's latched itself onto him.]

[Was this a trap????]

Claude von Riegan | Fire Emblem: Three Houses

[goldenherd]

I - The Shore

Claude always has weird dreams the night after a battle, provided he can sleep at all, and after the absolute disaster that was the battle for Garreg Mach he hadn't expected tonight to be any different. Half-drowning's not a regular feature of his nightmares and neither is that strange smell in the air that he can't quite place, but all of this has that strange, slightly off quality to it that has him convinced that this is the familiar sort of unfamiliarity of dreamland.

"Yeah, yeah, alright, I'm getting up," he says, more nonchalant about being confronted by some sort of monstrous being than he would be if he were fully convinced he was awake. As it is he mostly seems curious, watching the person who woke him up carefully as he tries to take in every little detail of their appearance. Affecting a lopsided grin, he sweeps his saltwater-drenched hair out of his face. "Phew. Not the most pleasant way I've ever woken up, but probably not the worst, either. Where is this, anyway?"

II - The Town

It becomes clear that this isn't a dream pretty quick, at least - or if it is a dream, it's the sort he should take very seriously, because he's not waking up until it's good and done with him. When the locals offer him a stack of pamphlets to help him make sense of what's going on, he grabs as many as he can and sets to work diligently reading through each and every one of them, frowning the whole way through.

"Man-eating monsters, huh?" he says, to himself more than anyone else. At least the people here have good reason to be giving him the evil eye left and right. That's more than he can say for most people who've looked at him like that in the past. Sitting in one of the nearby parks with his reading list fanned out on the grass in front of him, he tosses Therianthropy and You aside and reaches for Alternatives to Human Flesh, intending to read it over once again. You know, just in case he glossed over anything in between all of the 'there are none's the first three times.

"There's got to be something here that I'm missing."

III - The Change (Waldgeist, cw: mild body horror, blood)

As much as he tries, there's really nothing that can prepare you for the sensation of being bodily transformed against your will. It starts with a bone-deep ache throughout his whole body, almost flulike in quality, but a hundred times more intense. He strongly considers just lying there in the guest room of the family that was gracious enough to take him in for the night, but he's unfortunately savvy enough to know what's coming, and he doesn't want them getting caught in the crossfire. There's no guarantee that he'll get hit with the bloodlust right away, but that's not a chance he's willing to take. With no small amount of difficulty, he climbs out of bed and lurches off into the woods, his head swimming with pain and fatigue.

The actual changes themselves have the courtesy to hold off until he's collapsed against a tree far out of the way (hopefully) of any defenseless locals who might wander by, but when they do finally take effect they crash over him like a tidal wave, rippling through his body with a great cracking of bones and snapping and tearing of muscles and tendons rearranging themselves. Distantly, he wonders if this is how Miklan felt as the Lance of Ruin's crest stone consumed him. When it finally stops he finds himself balancing precariously on two cloven hooves, with an impressive pair of antlers jutting from his scalp, blood dripping down his temples from where they emerged.

"Wow," he says, stretching his new legs experimentally. "They were not kidding about any of this, huh."

two!

[notpiercings]

"What could you possibly be missing?"

From behind Claude has approached a young boy, well-dressed beyond the haphazard state of his clothing, which he continues his attempt to straighten out. There appear to be remnants of ash on his palms and shirt, and he is absolutely covered in specks of dirt. The gaze he holds as he stares down at the house leader of Golden Deer, however, is analytical and hard, prepared for any move made against him.

Dio isn't having a particularly good time right now. That's just how it is when you wake up with soil in your lungs, though. You deal with a stupid dog, you trip into a furnace, and next thing you know you wake up in a few feet of loose dirt. You don't even recognise the plot of land you've apparently been buried on. How inconvenient.

He's been wandering the nearby town ever since he unearthed himself, hoping to find some familiarity in any of its streets, but nothing ever clicks, and everyone he's passed by has given him the eeriest of looks. Have stories of his efforts to inherit the Joestar fortune spread among the public? Which public is this, even?

He eventually, of course, figured out what all the fuss was about.

His eyes shift slowly away from Claude and onto the pamphlet in-hand. A couple similar sets of papers peek out from the pocket of his overcoat. He only kept a couple of them, but he read through numbers of the flimsy things.

"Some of these supposed 'monsters' don't eat meat," he says rather matter-of-factly, "and some manners of 'feeding' are more or less fatal than others. Or so they say."

angelica | fate/kaleid liner

[decarded]

SCENARIO FOUR (Simulacrum)

[ The promised changes have begun to set in, and they've left Angelica feeling sour... So far as she feels any way about anything, at least. But, then, it would be hard even for her to feel nothing in a situation like this — especially when the creature she is becoming seems like such a deliberate mockery of her particular circumstances. Some days ago, the skin on her hands had begun to peel, and then it peeled clean off, revealing the pale, smooth, ball-jointed hands of a doll underneath.

It's those hands that are at work now, Angelica carrying on with her job waiting tables as if nothing is wrong. And, she supposes, nothing is; it would be stranger if the transformation hadn't begun to affect her by now. She doesn't look at her fingers as she picks up plates and wipes down tables. She doesn't pay any mind to the feel of her uncovered joints moving beneath the fabric of her conservative outfit. And, when she turns her head, she doesn't think much on the odd seam encircling her throat, marking the point where human skin ends and hard plastic begins.

Not until it becomes something she can't avoid thinking about, at least. Maybe you're a customer, and she's leaned forward to place a drink in front of you. Maybe you're just a passerby who happened to come by as she was wiping down one of the outdoor tables. Either way, abruptly, the relative normalcy of the scene is interrupted by an odd creaking noise, and then the heavy thud of Angelica's head falling clean off her shoulders and plummeting unceremoniously to the floor.

For Angelica's part, she seems... fine? Not as hurt as someone missing a head probably should be, at least. It's a bit hard to tell, though, given that she now lacks a face; where it had been just a second ago, there's nothing but a few exposed wires, one of them tipped with what appears to be a small speaker box. Her upright body remains frozen in shock for long moment — but then it straightens back into a proper standing posture, and Angelica makes her best attempt to point herself in your direction. That's just the polite thing to do, when you address someone.

She may be a few degrees off. ]

Pardon me. [ Her voice sounds small and tinny, but considering where it's emanating from, that can hardly be a surprise. ] Would you be so kind as to retrieve my head?

four going in with SLIME

[notpiercings]

[Whatever Dio had been expecting when he went out for a drink, it... certainly hadn't been this.

Sure, eating regular people food had lost its benefit for him, sure it had lost its taste and texture long ago, but still there's a certain comfort to a hot cup of tea that goes beyond simple consumption. It reminds him of the life he was striving toward, the power and money he had elaborately promised himself; and the pain accompanying those things is outweighed by the simplicity of remembering one nice thing. His plans have crumbled, yes, but knowing that he had once been going somewhere reignites his determination to make something equally grand of his current situation.

So he had oozed in to order a cup of tea. No big deal. He hadn't expected for his waitress' head to fall off like a crumbling bust.

Dio has to pause and look at the floor for a moment, slowly flexing his gooey fingers as he processes the request in his head. This shouldn't have to be his problem, really, and honestly he'd really rather not deal with it at all. All the same, though, he might have his tea revoked if he refuses to at least try, and if not that then the quality of future teas could be worse as a consequence, and that in itself would be an even greater inconvenience. He's a little slower-going in these thoughts now that his whole body is liquid, but there's also the... tactile specifics of the task to consider.

He. He's real slimy. Grabbing things is not his expertise.

Still, he slowly slides off of the chair to approach Angelica's head. He reaches out with his arms to try to lift it, but his fingers simply slide off of it. A ten pound round object is apparently too heavy for him to pick up. Superb.

Dio's brow furrows in frustration. He refuses to let this simple of a motion elude him.] Would it... help to turn it your way first? [Rotating it is something he can do, yeah. He can't just give up now. Then he'd look ridiculous!]

Rapunzel | Tangled | OTA

[hairandbackagain]

A.

[This wasn't the first time that Rapunzel had woken up damp and with sand in her mouth, nor with salt water making the cuts and scrapes sting... but she's still quick to wake, glancing around in a bit of panic because what happened? The last thing she remembered was making it to the moonstone... and now she's on a beach? It doesn't add up. She pulls herself up quickly, brushing the sand off of her dress, and does the first thing she can think to:]

Eugene!? Cass!? Hey, are you guys here??

[She doesn't know what she expects, honestly. She glances around nervously again, and takes her first few steps to figuring out what's going on, trying to pick the branches and twigs and everything out of her incredibly long and, well, unbound hair. Some part of her notes that it's going to be a pain to take care of later, but it's fine. That isn't what's important right now.

But that's when she calls out again, cupping her hands around her mouth:]

CASS, EUGENE—!

B.

[Of course, new arrivals means that the angrier villagers are out and about, ready to deal with whatever new monsters are appearing. Rapunzel's long hair is certainly not doing her any favors, thanks to how unusual it is. It made her an obvious mark for having a shotgun pointed at her face, and while Rapunzel is trying to not panic... well, there is a gun pointed at her face and she has no idea why because what could she have done that was so wrong? What happened?

She can be found trying to bargain with the guy with the gun, trying to be her usual, charming self.]

Haha, is this supposed to be a prank? Because wow, you've got me. You're good at this—!

[missleadingquestions]

[Maya's come to investigate why there are arrivals happening more often at all-- not at all clinging to a vague hope-worry she might run into someone she knows, of course-- and seeing the clamor in the streets over it, she's suddenly quite glad she's got a little more strength on her. Once upon a time if someone human were to aggress her, she'd be done for, but nowadays she has a few more tricks up her sleeves and a bit more muscle to make up for everything else. It makes walking past angry townspeople a bit easier, especially when she can flash some a sharp toothed smile to get them to retreat.

Of course, it also means she sure thinks she can take on more danger than maybe she should. So when Maya hears a woman's sheepish voice and a man replying--

The only prank here is the fact you things keep showin up!

--Maya quickly turns on her heel and runs for the source of it. What she sees is that man pressing his rifle in closer on a woman with the most incredible hair Maya's ever seen.

...Which isn't the point.

Give me one good reason why I shouldn't blast your head off--]

Uh, because it's super rude to shoot at cute girls?!

[Maya calls from behind the two, hesitating for just a moment. Maybe-- maybe they can just get this guy to back off??!]

Dio Brando | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

[notpiercings]

[ONE (kind of): LAGER WOODS; cw: buried alive]

[So most people, when they first arrive, wash up somewhere on the beach, either waking up in the water itself or some distance away from it. The locals have long recognised this, and so frequently a newcomer will find themselves in the vicinity of a gun-toting human hoping to thin the oncoming wave of monsters. Older monsters will also frequently scout the beaches for these newcomers to help them avoid or fight off the locals to save them from the first of what often becomes many untimely deaths.

Dio Brando is not so lucky.

No, Dio doesn't even wake up in the vicinity of the beach at all. He's still a little damp, and he definitely feels really grainy, but it's far too dark to be the beach, even at night.

Also, he can't breathe.

That's the first thing he realises, really; the darkness comes later, after his first inhale of breath being met with dirt, and his eyes grind against the same thing when he tries to make sense of his surroundings. His arms immediately spring forward, reaching up as high as his muscles allow against the cold soil covering him, and when his fingers reach an open space, he scrambles to pull himself upright.

A heap of loose dirt falls forward as Dio emerges from a shallow unmarked grave. He coughs profusely, lungs and eyes equally burning as thick saliva and reflexive tears pour down his face. Dizziness folds his body in waves while his brain recovers from its lack of oxygen. Where is he? What is this? What happened to him?

He's still half-covered in dirt, his knees only barely poking out from the ground. The last thing he remembers is trying to dispose of Jonathan's stupid mutt, and then... What then? Was he caught?

Is anyone here?]


[FOUR: MANTICORE]

[Dio has acquired a fondness for 'perching'.

He sits above the grand archway to Castle Lager, his sectioned scorpion tail swaying rhythmically within its frame as he watches the moon rise above the rest of the peninsula. The land surrounding the castle has been consistently quiet and peaceful, away from prying eyes and those who would seek to have him... pay for future crimes. He can perhaps tolerate it in the daytime, but at night he would prefer to simply rest as he sees fit. As such, he frequents the outer perimeter of the manor, slinking into a window to retire when he's had his draught of moonlight.

Now is not time to sleep yet, however, gazing sharply upon the bridge below him as his tail counts the passing seconds. His wings remain half-spread, and he is still enough to appear as a decorative fixture upon the archway if not for the scorpion stinger taunting the entrance to Castle Lager.

His feline ears perk at a sound. Someone approaches. His eyes narrow.]

Halt, [he calls out.] Who draws near Castle Lager at this hour?

OH BOY, LAGER WOODS,

[standless]

[Jonathan hasn't been here long- he hasn't even been here long enough to accumulate 'changes' of sorts, which only makes things worse perhaps.

Yet as the people around him- the monsters around him- began to speak of Lager Woods, and of people coming through from wherever the Fog would drag them from, he could not simply stand idly in Bavan. So he joined with others in one of the vehicles. He helped set up tables, get blankets together, start the search parties when it became apparent that those arriving were arriving scattered, spread far apart and potentially doomed to wander until they perished again.

No one has told him yet, that not everyone who arrives is dead. No one has told him, and so it is what he believes, and perhaps one day he'll look back in horror at how much worse it must have been for those who simply closed their eyes and opened them beneath the earth, but that time is not now.

Instead he can see a child. A child- and he knows children have come here before, he's seen one but-]

Here- [he insists, already reaching for the boy without thinking.] Here, please, let me help you up-

Are you able to properly breathe, boy?

Laios Thorden | Dungeon Meshi

[minotaurmilker]

SCENARIO TWO

[ One might ask how a tall human man in heavy plate armor managed to wash up on a beach instead of sinking like a sack of rocks. But as Laios hauled himself up from his faceplant in the sand and looked groggily around, he didn't look that panicked. More like confused.

He was trying to dump sand out of his boot as a man accosted him with a pile of pamphlets. ]

Oh, well... thank you very much, but could you tell me what I'm doing here? [ Shock as he looked down at the title of the topmost pamphlet. ] Wait... does this say 'How to Serve Merman'?

Is that something that happens here?

SCENARIO FOUR

[ Or maybe someone ran into Laios on the street, stopping to scratch vigorously at a spot on his chest before yanking his buttoned shirtfront open to get at the itch directly. A patch of darker-colored fur had sprouted there, looking rather out of place but ahhhh sweet relief, and never mind decency laws. ]

Ugh, that's so much better... I wonder what I'm turning into? If it has fur, I hope it's something with more than one animal. Maybe a manticore?

Two!

[goldenherd]

"Could be!" calls Claude from his perch on a nearby piece of driftwood. He wrings out his cloak, watching the man with the pamphlets hurry off to the next castaway before turning back to Laios.

"There are definitely mermen around, and this seems to be a pretty eat-or-be-eaten place from what I can tell, but I don't know if anyone tries eating the monsters instead of the other way around. Or if the monsters try eating each other, I guess."

He stands up, ineffectually trying to dust some of the caked-on sand off of himself as he ambles over to the other man. "You don't seem too worried about that, though." If he didn't know better, he'd almost say the guy sounded sort of intrigued. Not that he's judging. This whole thing is too weird for him not to be curious, as morbid as it all is.

Vinegar Doppio | Jojo's Bizarre Adventure

[epitaffio]

TWO

[A boy dressed from head to toe in purples and pinks is carrying more pamphlets on him than you would think anybody with two hands could. He even has a couple of them open, somehow, looking back and forth between each.]

Human flesh... That's pretty scary. But I guess not every monster has to eat meat. [Whoa, what's this?] "Introduction to Walking on Hooves"...? Isn't that way too specific? By the time you grow hooves, you might not even--

[But he can't do everything, and that's precisely when he bumps into a Bavanite, who immediately starts going off at him. Weren't the people in Bavan supposed to be the NICE ones??

He sure looks like he could use some kind of help.]


THREE... -ish

[Another day, another stroll around Bavan. If he's stuck here, then he needs to find some place to settle into - maybe even some job to settle into. Of course, he can't think of much that he'd be good at doing other than what he was already doing back in Italy, but...

... Wait. Does he hear something? It's faint, fuzzy; he can't make anything out. Not until, suddenly, something does come through loud and clear: the ringing of a telephone.]

Oh! I knew he'd come through!

[Never mind that it's plain for anybody looking at this boy to see that he is the one making the ringing sounds with his mouth.

Anyway, he's not sure how the Boss managed to find out where he is, let alone call him, but where's the phone? He's so used to having them on him, but this place is too antiquated to HAVE mobile phones...]

There! [A receiver, left by the sidewalk! It really is his lucky day.

Vinegar Doppio picks up a banana peel, holds it to his ear, and listens intently. Finally--

Seek us out.

There's a beat, or two, and his face begins to contort into rage. He yells directly into the banana peel:]

What the fuck? How'd you get this number?!

TWO...

[standless]

[Rather honestly, Jonathan would likely have similar questions about hooves. Wouldn't a monster with hooves have to adjust before there was even time for lessons? Also, what kind of lessons would work before hooves needed to be considered??

...

Someone is getting harassed, and that's a bit more important.

With Jonathan's imposing size, it doesn't really matter how gentle and kind his face otherwise is. People tend to shut up, pause, amd stare. Especially when the 'giant' in a somewhat cheap Bavan coat steps forward and calmly draws attention to himself by voice.]

Is there a problem here? [he asks, a slight edge to his eyes perhaps implying some disappointment in the mouthy Bavanite man.] I'm certain whatever has happened doesn't require this sort of reaction. [Honestly a lot of people here just seem so rude about things that are hardly the other's fault- it's been jarring, and even Speedwagon commented on it when they spoke about it together.]

Johnny Joestar | JJBA: Steel Ball Run

[joestarsandstripes]

SCENARIO ONE

[Waking up in an unfamiliar place, feeling beat all to hell, with no idea how he got there, is not Johnny's idea of a good time. Neither is drowning, but the universe has literally never cared about what Johnny wants, and it's not about to start now, hence the tide coming in.]

[A wave crashes over him, soaking his already waterlogged clothes and dragging him back across the sand, towards the ocean. Johnny immediately digs his nails in, tries to claw his way out of the water, but it's hard to gain traction on non-solid ground. It doesn't help that he's fighting against the pull of the tide and his own dead weight, which makes dragging himself forward by just his arms a near-herculean task.]

[Not that Johnny's any stranger to impossible odds - whether someone comes along to give him a hand or not, he is damn well gonna get safely onto dry land.]


SCENARIO THREE

[Johnny is already real sick of this place, but he's even more sick of waking up in unfamiliar surroundings without any idea how he got there. It looks like some sort of...festival? He's not sure, there's bonfires and dancing but beyond that he doesn't have a clue what's going on. The way he figures, the best way he can find out is to just roll up to someone and ask - maybe someone'll be able to explain the disembodied voices he keeps hearing, too.]

Hey - you got a minute?


SCENARIO FOUR

[Johnny doesn't know shit about mythology, but he understands irony just fine. He's not sure whose responsible for all this, but he's sure they must find it hi-larious to turn an ex-jocky into a goddamn horse. Johnny sure as hell ain't laughing, but there's fuck-all he can do about the situation since he's even less mobile with four legs than he was with two. At least as a human he could wheel himself around, as a kelpie he's shit out of luck outside the water.]

[Anyone who happens by the lake he's taken refuge in will maybe want to find another place to swim, unless they want to get tangled up with a pissed off monster horse that's just barely treading enough water to keep his head above the surface. He looks ornery and likely to bite anyone who gets too close or makes the mistake of thinking he's an easy target. Judging by the abandoned rifle floating nearby, and the suspicious amount of red tinge in the water surrounding him, it's probably safe to say some unfortunate hunter already made that mistake - and paid for it.]

SCENARIO ONE | it's time for everything to immediately spiral into shit, oh boy,

[standless]

[It's not too unfamiliar a situation for Jonathan. Granted, it wasn't how he arrived in this place but the idea of salt and spray is at least partly littered with negative connotations thanks to his last moments before arriving.

Also it's foggy. And it's really, really hard to see in this, so-

He can make something out in the distance, a figure pulling themselves from the sea, and with that in mind he starts jogging over with a shout.] Hello?

You there! I'm coming to help! [he calls, naturally failing to think that perhaps, someone doesn't want help in this situation. Who would refuse help in this situation? That feels ridiculous.] Just hang on..!

[He'll be getting quite close before it's possible for one or the other to see each other, but once close enough he'll at least offer a hand. Possibly both as he stoops down.] Here, let me help you up...

[yes about that jonathan]

[redacted] Eugene Fitzherbert | Tangled (Series, s1; spoilers ok)

[ohnose]

Beached

I'm AWAKE! I'm awake.

[There's a sudden exclamation as Eugene pulls his face out of the sand, taking in a sharp breath of salty sea air-- and promptly coughing, hacking up sand while he pushes his hand through his hair.]

Yuck. You know, I really wasn't feeling like a sea-side breakfast this morning.

[ . . .]

[Eugene looks around, brows furrowed with confusion.]

So no one's gonna comme---aaah... Wait a minute. This does not look like the docks at Corona.

[No, in fact, as Eugene looks around, this does not look like any docks he's been to. And he's been to a lot of beaches and docks! Mostly... for stealing. But anyway, this is a completely unrecogniseable beach and a completely unrecogniseable country and he has got to get out of here. Eugene gets to his feet, dusting off his clothes and finding that just isn't going to work.]

Aw man, things just aren't going to work like this! Hey! Over there!

[Eugene calls to a bunch of strangers on the beach who are busily shuffling things into a boat.]

You don't happen to know where a man could find a quick place to clean up do-oh you're. You've got weapons.

[And suddenly, it's Eugene vs. the world again. Maybe come help a guy out and do a little parkour?]


Magnificence (mermaid, cos he's never getting that in game I know)

[You'd probably be able to get to whatever you're doing today if there wasn't such a crowd of kids in the way! But what could they be so entertained with? Upon closer inspection, it looks like they're all gathered around an outdoor fountain--- one where a seal is sitting right in the middle.]

Ooh, ooh, okay, this time I'm gonna bounce it on my head, and you're gonna catch it, got it, shorty?

[says the seal-man to a little girl while he wiggles in the fountain, trying to get a good angle.]

Alright, you ready? Here we go!

[On Eugene's cue, the little girl throws the ball in her hand, and Eugene really does bounce it off his head! But uh, hopefully not into you. Hopefully.]

MAGNIFICENCE

[adandyinspace]

[A group of kids circling the fountain usually means something. Did something fall in? ...Did someone leave a corpse? Not that Dandy cares or anything, but the large gathering is enough to grab his attention.

He's rewarded with a ball to the face.]

DUDE, what the hell--

[And that's when he sees him, the other mermaid. Dandy's mouth hangs agape in an unspeakable rage the moment he cuts himself off, just WHO the hell does this guy think he is?! This...this could all be DANDY'S ATTENTION, he is so much better at sitting in fountains and throwing shit-

Yeah...yeah you know what? He sure is, and he's gonna prove it.]

Step aside, asshole. [Not that there's...much stepping to do when you have a chunky seal tail, Dandy should honestly know that. It doesn't stop him from picking up the offending ball and throwing himself into the fountain right beside Eugene, bumping him with his sudden dolphin hip in hopes to scooch him over. He begins to spin the ball on his finger, immediately trying to win the children over despite all his cursing and shouting.] Lemme show you how a real mermaid does it~

[He tosses the ball to his fluke, flicking it over towards his head, and passes it along to the very kid Eugene was aiming for to begin with.

Because he has to be THAT guy.

And then he smiles, he smiles the worst smile as he rolls his head in the other mer's direction, just waiting for him to admit defeat.]