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

[marcato]

Aunamee quietly notes the location of the man's home, sliding his knife back into it sheath. He doesn't like to leave things incomplete, and he suspects this man doesn't either.

But he can wait. He's a patient man.

"My name is Aunamee," he says, slipping the glove back onto his skeletal hand. He moves like an actor, or perhaps a magician, every movement deliberate and rehearsed. Perfectionism has shaved the edges off his gestures.

He offers his hand to the other man. With the glove on it, it looks remarkably whole.

"We should get moving, Mr. Javert. You're not safe on this beach."

[inseine]

Safe! Javert barks the most dreadful, coughing laugh to come out of the mouth of a human being. Good news, he already sounds like the monster he is destined to become.

"Why offer to aid me? To what purpose?" he demands, ever the probing interrogator, even in his shattered state. His vocal cords crackle and burn in protest. "You have me now, I have little choice. I am in no position to fend you off. String me along like dead weight, I do not care. Or you could leave me here to rot!"

He shoots a pointed look to the proffered hand without accepting it, and attempts to clamber his weakened self to two unsteady feet all on his own. It is an incredible thing, to see how easy it is to be fooled by Monsieur Aunamee-de-Mort's pristine disguise. This is not the black shrouded figure of death that dominated the stereotypes, but this one is equally unsettling.

[marcato]

He gives a small 'hm' as Javert rejects his offer, withdrawing his hand and watching him struggle to his feet. The other man reminds him of an insect with broken legs, stumbling for its footing, twisting and faltering with every movement.

He likes that.

"I'm here because you've been chosen," he says, making no move to help him. His posture is impeccable. "Very few people wake up in this world, Mr. Javert. Leaving you to rot on this beach would be akin to casting a diamond into the sewer."

[inseine]

Javert openly balks. Surely this Death speaks in jest!

And yet he speaks with such earnestness and conviction that Javert merely thinks Aunamee-de-Mort must be severely misled. Now successfully on his trembling feet, he looks down at his filthy, stained, sopping-wet self, then back to Aunamee.

"A lump of coal rather than a diamond," mutters Javert barely above a whisper. He raises his hoarse voice, insisting, "You are luring me with honey. That won't work on me. It is unneeded, and it is excessive. Simply tell me where you want to take me, and I will go. I will not fight."