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graveyardsmash2019-09-13 09:05 am
ryslighelpers) wrote in graveyardsmash2019-09-13 09:05 am
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TEST DRIVE MEME: 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.
Catherine "Cathy" Ward | Angels of Death | OTA
[ 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
In the City: In which a guy I used to play here makes a cameo
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.]
it's robot furry time
Zack, especially, is not a catty companion. Perhaps at one time, but certainly not anymore.
Cathy hears the voice first, and despite its metallic intonation, it's distinctly Zack's voice. When she turns to face him, however, she's met with something that looks like it crawled out of some Five Minutes At Maddie's game or an abandoned theme park creepypasta. It's simultaneously tacky and... genuinely a little creepy.]
Wh...
[Her eyes narrow and her lips purse as she looks the thing up and down once more. This is what was making Zack's voice? She recognises the dirty jacket, at least... And his sudden outburst seems to be in-line with the last thing she can remember.]
I could ask you the same thing; if the drugs you took weren't going to do it, then that stunt of yours should have finished you off eventually.
What's with that ridiculous costume, anyway? You didn't strike me as the type to be into furry culture.
[
yes she thinks it's a fursuit]BEEP BOOP MOTHERF*CKER
Yeah, well, I'm pretty fucking hard to kill. And whadya mean "furry subculture?!" The robot shit ain't a costume.
[If Cathy's paying attention to his arms, the fabric of his sleeves seem to be draping over his body funny...]
no subject
She takes a step forward to get a closer look. Did he mangle his arms or s--
His mouth. His mouth is hollow, and there's nothing human behind it when it moves.]
...what?
[What the hell is she looking at?
...Cathy snorts. Smiles. Laughs a little. Her eyes scan Zack keenly, torn between triumph and fear.] So you're a self-fulfilling prophecy after all, hm? Went off and became something inhuman to match that monstrous spirit of yours. How very interesting!
cube
Geez Louise! Are you gonna talk your prey to death? Why not just eat 'em already?
ohhhHHHH HELL YES
Cathy stares. Her entire body is rigid.]
It's about more than just p̶̓r̵͉͐e̷da̵̦͘ț̸͝or̸͗ ̷an̵d̷̟͛ p̵͔̾r̸e̵̛̹ÿ̴̡.
I punish si̴nn̶̾e̵͗r̶̗͌s̴̥̆. A short and sweet death would b̵e̶ ̴̓u̷n̵͎͝fit̶̛̹ṫ̵̠i̴n̴͔̾g̶͛ f̷͈͑or most.
Who might you be?
:)
I guess maybe. You got a history with the guy? I'm definitely not tryin' to be all judg-y here. Sometimes you gotta unleash a little righteous fury.
[But she doesn't feel great about this.]
Call me Harley.
[To the victim:]
You do something to hurt her?
no subject
I don't, but I don't need it. I had watched him for a great deal of time to assess his crimes. I have served as a condemner for what feels like my entire life; this is simply another job for me.
[She hums.]
Harley? My name is Cathy.
no subject
[She's not sure how she feels about that. Probably bad? In her experience they're nosy and way too judgemental.]
Sorry about scaring that dude away for you. So, Cathy what do you do when you're not stalking people?
on the beach
Excuse me, but that's not very polite of you to point your gun at a newcomer like...
[And then he stops, because he recognizes that blond-pink hair, and that outfit worn by the condemner he's known for years.]
... Cathy?
no subject
No, she refuses. Her attacker's attention is drawn to the new nearby voice, and in the moment when focus is removed from her, Cathy kicks her leg up to knock the shotgun out of their hand. It's fumbled, and she takes her opportunity to skim the area for more people.
And then she sees him. Her brow furrows.]
D... Danny? You made it out?
no subject
[He was certain--no, knows for a fact that she was very dead by the time the building burned down. But to be fair, he also died, and he certainly doesn't look it now.
The formerly armed human is saying something angry and reaching for his gun that was knocked out of his hands, but Danny casually kicks it out of his reach and closer to himself and Cathy.]
Do you mind? Go bother someone else if you don't want to end up on the other end of your own weapon.
[This is accompanied by a slight smile that makes his fangs a little more prominent to the human here when he looks at them, and that seems to spook them into running off for now.
And then Danny offers a hand to Cathy to help her back on her feet, should she accept it.]
no subject
She remains sitting for a moment, frowning at his words. She doesn't recall ever leaving, and unless Gray or Danny came back down to get her after they took care of Zack and Ray, well...
She isn't sure if she made it out at all.]
...yeah.
[Cathy carefully brings herself to her feet after ditching her heels and taking Danny's hand. If she didn't make it out, then how can she be here with Danny now? Unless they both...]
Where are we?
no subject
[There's a pause, before he adds.]
And at the moment, you and I are the only two people from the building here, last I checked.
[Zack and Rachel were here once before too, but he'll hold off on giving that information for now.]
no subject
His words are met with a series of bewildered blinks, though, and it's now that Cathy finally gets a better look around at the place. In one direction, there's ocean for miles, and in the other, she can see faint town lights. She's never heard of either of these places.]
Did we... [She hesitates to call the deaths of their sacrifices a "win" of any sort.]
What about Gray? He finished them off, then? They...
[But did she really make it out, did she really? Did she die? She can't remember. She was too numb to remember.]
no subject
... escaped. Both of them. I saw them leave myself.
[And even after having lived with this information for more than a year now, he's still bitter when he says it.]
But they're not here. Neither is the Reverend... I don't know if he made it out of the building too. He didn't go with them.