Welcome to Ryslig's test drive meme! If you're considering apping here, this is where you can try your characters out in the game's setting. A few things to note:
Test drive meme threads can be used for your roleplay sample!
Sample scenarios:
SCENARIO ONE: You've just been released from the hospital in Vandare and no one really seems to know what to do with you. The locals offer polite advice but don't seem to want to spend a lot of time with you. You and the other new arrivals stick out like sore thumbs, so perhaps one will spot you wandering about town.
SCENARIO TWO: You've become hopelessly lost in Lager Woods. Paths don't seem to lead where you remember them leading, and you feel as if you're going around in circles. Childlike giggling can be heard from no direction in particular. Suddenly, you stumble upon another character, who seems to be just as lost as you! Perhaps you can find a way out together.
SCENARIO THREE: 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? NOTE: Feel free to pick any monster type for this prompt, but note that you may not get the same one in game.
The skull moves, and Marco very nearly drops Bob, startled. He doesn't, but there's definitely a flinch and his fingers pressing in a little harder in surprise.
He's also asking the wrong questions. Anatomy isn't a basic course in Marco's world, and he draws his brows down in a frown.
"They're working, nothing's broken about them," he says cautiously instead, clearing his throat.
"Yeah, obviously. Otherwise this would be a pretty one sided conversation." Bob notices that the kid doesn't like it when he moves, and he stills. It's not to make Marco feel more comfortable; it's because he doesn't want to get bounced off the ground.
"What's your name, kid? You look like someone I know. You're not from Chicago, are you?"
"You've never heard of Chicago? What kind of backwards place are you from, anyway?"
The way the kid gives his name so easily leaves no doubt: he doesn't have a scrap of magic in him, or any knowledge of it. Names have power, and Marco gives his away far too easily. Were Bob of a mind, he could cause the kid some serious problems, now that he has his name.
"I'm Bob. Pleased to meet you, Marco Bott from Jinae which is nowhere near Chicago." Bob settles in, shifting a little to get more comfortable. "So what brings you here? Can't be the glamorous night life, right?"
"A place a lot like this, minus the water," Marco remarks dryly, looking around. Sure, the style was a little different, but these were the same materials being used to build the houses, the same kind of stones in the street. "It's also surrounded by fifty meter high walls."
Oh, anyone from Marco's world could have told you that. Marco Bott is naive and believes the best of everyone, which is how he ended up being friends with Jean Kirstein in the first place.
Marco steps away from where Bob was sitting, moving along the path he was taking before.
"The same thing that brought everyone else here, I guess," Marco says, with a wry smile. "If the bandages don't explain it, I got dragged here and left for dead in the water."
"So European then. Or Canadian. Or somewhere not America." Metric, hmph. What nonsense. That does away with the theory about Marco being another child of Dresden's. First of all, that would assume Harry got laid, like, ever. It would also mean he had left the Chicago area long enough to knock some lady up that lived somewhere that uses metric. Possible, but unlikely, especially around fifteen years ago.
"Yeah, I could do without the water." Moving water, ugh. Bob isn't surprised that the kid doesn't know anything more than he does, but it never hurts to ask. "So why'd you have walls that high? Who'd you piss off?"
"Not any of those, actually." He doesn't recognize any of the names, so it seems logical to agree he's not from any of those places.
Thankfully, his path is taking him away from the water, though he's not heading straight back into town. Maybe because the skull is talking, and he's obviously new enough he doesn't want to be branded someone bad, or Bob.
The question about walls has him laughing a little, though it's not amused.
"Titans, apparently. They're huge, they're fast, and they want to eat humanity."
"What?" Bob starts vibrating in Marco's hands, and his voice is full of concern when he speaks again. "You live in a world where the Outsiders still exist?"
Okay. His esteem for Marco just rose about a million notches.
Lower that esteem, Bob! Because Marco has no idea what you're talking about there, and it shows in his confused glance down.
"Maybe?" he hedges after a moment. "Do they look like giant people with overgrown heads?" At least, anything that wasn't an aberrant. That was your standard Titan description.
"Sometimes." Outsiders could probably look like that, Bob figures. He knows about the creatures, after all, but it's not like there are a lot of first-hand accounts floating around out there about them. They're the kind of things that tend to destroy reality first, ask questions later.
The kid looks confused, though, so Bob thinks this might be a breakdown in communication. "Tell me more about your titans." Gathering information and remembering it is kind of his thing, after all, and whatever he can get might be useful later.
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graveyardsmash2014-07-04 09:45 pm
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He's also asking the wrong questions. Anatomy isn't a basic course in Marco's world, and he draws his brows down in a frown.
"They're working, nothing's broken about them," he says cautiously instead, clearing his throat.
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"What's your name, kid? You look like someone I know. You're not from Chicago, are you?"
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"I've never heard of that town," Marco admits with a sheepish expression. "I'm from Jinae, and my name is Marco Bott. What's yours?"
He's assuming the skull must have one.
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The way the kid gives his name so easily leaves no doubt: he doesn't have a scrap of magic in him, or any knowledge of it. Names have power, and Marco gives his away far too easily. Were Bob of a mind, he could cause the kid some serious problems, now that he has his name.
"I'm Bob. Pleased to meet you, Marco Bott from Jinae which is nowhere near Chicago." Bob settles in, shifting a little to get more comfortable. "So what brings you here? Can't be the glamorous night life, right?"
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Oh, anyone from Marco's world could have told you that. Marco Bott is naive and believes the best of everyone, which is how he ended up being friends with Jean Kirstein in the first place.
Marco steps away from where Bob was sitting, moving along the path he was taking before.
"The same thing that brought everyone else here, I guess," Marco says, with a wry smile. "If the bandages don't explain it, I got dragged here and left for dead in the water."
Or so he's assuming.
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"Yeah, I could do without the water." Moving water, ugh. Bob isn't surprised that the kid doesn't know anything more than he does, but it never hurts to ask. "So why'd you have walls that high? Who'd you piss off?"
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Thankfully, his path is taking him away from the water, though he's not heading straight back into town. Maybe because the skull is talking, and he's obviously new enough he doesn't want to be branded someone bad, or Bob.
The question about walls has him laughing a little, though it's not amused.
"Titans, apparently. They're huge, they're fast, and they want to eat humanity."
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Okay. His esteem for Marco just rose about a million notches.
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"Maybe?" he hedges after a moment. "Do they look like giant people with overgrown heads?" At least, anything that wasn't an aberrant. That was your standard Titan description.
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The kid looks confused, though, so Bob thinks this might be a breakdown in communication. "Tell me more about your titans." Gathering information and remembering it is kind of his thing, after all, and whatever he can get might be useful later.