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.
[Joffrey didn’t like it here. He didn’t know why he was here, how he got here, or who these strange people he arrived with are. At least, he hadn’t yet seen a familiar face, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Worst of all, though, was that no one here seemed to have any idea how to properly treat a king, even if that king wasn’t from here and had never heard of this place.
He could be seen yelling at random locals, who usually responded with a polite little history lesson of how democracy was instituted many years ago and there no kings anymore. With his clothes still damp from the water and his crown lopsided on his head, he hardly seemed like an intimidating figure despite his efforts.]
[Mason learned quickly that whatever amount of money he had back home, it didn’t really matter here. He wasn’t happy about that fact – but he realized it. Not one to accept being treated like a charity case, he wandered off into the forest in search of a way back home or at least somewhere that made sense and didn’t look like it was stuck in the 1920s.
A bad idea, apparently. He could have sword he was heading back the way he came, but there was no exit to be found. While he initially thought he was alone, he could have sworn he heard something just now.]
Come on. Don’t be shy, now. I don’t bite. [He does a little worse than bite, really. Not that he’d admit that out loud to strangers.]
[This wasn’t Slick’s type of place. He was used to slums and dingy hospitals, alright, but he was a city boy at heart. He’d rarely ever left his own hometown, and why would he? His family had bribed every cop in the place so he had free run to do whatever he liked.
He shoved a local down to the ground with a stream of profanity when they failed at adequately answering a question he had, but everyone who saw seemed to turn away and ignore him. Hands in his pockets, he stomped off like an angry teenager. Notably, although it was almost dark, he was still wearing his sunglasses.]
[While she wouldn't consider herself the most woodsy person in the known universe, she would have thought she'd be able to follow a damn path. But no, that skill seemed to be beyond her at the moment. It could be that all the paths looked the same. Or was it all the trees? The ground? She swore she'd passed that rock four times already.
But what was really getting on her nerves was the giggling. The incessant little titters she heard but couldn't see the source of.]
Okay, ha-ha. Joke's over. You guys win. The newbie to town is completely and totally lost. Now how about you come out from wherever you're hiding and point me in the right direction.
( scenario one ) in which Loki nearly goes apeshit on a doctor A block away from the hospital, Loki fumes.
After all of the humiliation and slights he had endured from his former "family", allies and enemies, he has finally obtained that which was promised to him as a young boy and wrongly snatched from him as an adult: a throne. Asgard's throne. He has manipulated the wretched shadows Thor cast over him for his own gain, allowing all to believe him dead, felled into obscurity, never to antagonize another with his mere presence again.
He is a king.
Kings do not get themselves fished out of the water like shipwreck debris. Kings do not lack recollection of how they've wound up in such a humiliating state. Kings do not find themselves stranded in a realm unknown to them.
Most importantly, kings do not allow their strengths to be stripped from them unawares. The loss of his sorcery comes as a sharp, most unpleasant surprise when he tries to take Odin's form and fails. He cannot call upon Heimdall without it -- not without also calling upon the wrath of every Asgardian in existence.
Worse, the only memento of Frigga left to him has been stolen. This fact above all others guts him like a knife, piercing not only his heart, but his judgement. Outraged, he storms back to the hospital. The nurse informs him that the doctor has moved onto the next victim, but Loki cares not. He barges into the room and grabs the doctor by his collar, intending to drag him out like a rag doll... only to find his strength absent, too.
Something is wrong. It is a thought swimming through the background noise of his fury made louder by his inability to physically bully this mortal. Something is wrong.
He's like them.
Nurses and fairly well-to-do patients tag team him into submission. He is shoved unceremoniously out of the hospital and barred re-entrance. He whips around and glares venomously at the doors, teeth bared, wet hair tousled, leathers unmistakably damp. He looks like a wild animal.
Little does he know that he'll become something far worse.
[Zera ran from the hospital at top speed (not that he was very fast) the second he was allowed to leave. It was too risky for him to stay in one place right now, not after he had been so rudely betrayed by everyone he had once called an ally.
The forest seemed like a good enough place as any to be alone and gather his bearings so he could make a suitable plan of action. He didn’t exactly want to be here, but he was alive again, and that had to count for something. He knelt down beside a tree, flipping through some pieces of soggy, unreadable paper he had in his pocket, muttering to himself as he tried to make out what he had written on them.]
[There was something humbling about spouting off a name that always got a reaction, whether it be an eyeroll or instant subservience and suddenly getting a blank look. Like this guy had no idea what he was talking about. He felt a sudden drop in his stomach, like when you drove quickly over a dip in the road, then gave the guy a head shake and moved to head out of the hospital. Fuck this. He needed to find someone who wasn't fucked up in the head and knew what he was talking about.
Only it seemed everyone here was fucked in the head because the name 'Godfrey' just drew blank stares. What was even more annoying was the sympathetic looks, like he was something to be pitied. Fuck that. He was Roman fucking Godfrey. He was the main shareholder of an entire corporation that had his name on it. He couldn't die. Who the fuck were these assholes?
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a cigarette, lighting it and blowing a pale stream of smoke upward.]
[It's hard to do practically anything when you're used to staying out of sight. Being covered in cuts and bites isn't new, but waking up in the hospital with no recolection of how she even got there is. They let her out, sure, but something feels amiss.
As soon as she gets the chance, away from everyone, she tries using a corridor to get back to the castle. Nothing happens. No matter how hard she tries, Xion just can't do it. Next, she tries magic, any magic, only to find the same thing happening. Not even her keyblade appears when she tries even though she had just had it what can't be too long ago.
Naturally, panic starts to set in. She's on a strange world with strange people who helped her and she's not sure what to do and will they even send someone to look for her or will the rest of the ogranization just presume her dead? She needs to ask, needs to find out what's going on here. Xion isn't the only one, she's over heard talk of there being other people who got dragged in just like her with no memories.
She swallows nervously. Talking to people on other worlds isn't allowed, but it's going to be the only way she's going to learn anything about anything here.
Xion tries to find someone who looks as lost as she does.]
This wasn't right. Eren had passed this tree already, he knew it. Right on the bark was a mark, an "X" he'd scratched into the tree with his knife. He'd begun marking them when he suspected he was going in circle, and now he was certain. He'd been here before. Maybe even several times.
"Dammit! How the hell did I get lost?!"
He was a soldier for God's sake. He knew how to navigate, by the stars, by the animal paths. But the sky here was different, the map of the heavens he'd memorized was useless here. And the paths? Led nowhere. He hadn't even found a river to follow. Without his maneuver gear, it was going to be a challenge to climb the trees. There wasn't much of a choice in his mind, though. That was the only way he'd be able to see anything, with the canopy as thick as it was.
He frowns, looking up at a particularly twisted old oak. He could probably get to the top if he could make it to the lowest branch, which was still a good ten feet off the ground. But then, the crackle of leaves nearby, the snapping of a twig. Eren turns, pulling a knife from his belt and brandishing it at the darkness.
[It was bound to happen. Slowly, the vessel Balthazar has sealed himself into was falling apart, corrupting. It started with the flesh losing its colour, and then the body simply started losing all it's weight, limbs and torso lengthening. His fingers now were long inhuman things now, tip with claws and his face... Gaunt and thin were the words of the day except for his eyes. Balthazar's grace glowed bright and brilliant from his eyes, so bright he'd been forced to veil them.
At least he still only had one head. Even if he was now sporting horns that stuck out from his hairline like spiraling spikes. He never used to have spikes. His breath never used to stink of sulfur, blood and ichor never used trickle from his eyes like tears, staining his bony cheeks.
He was becoming Fallen. And that scared him. So he left the town, taking for the woods to hide, hoping, praying that someone would come to finish himself off before he acted on his instincts to destroy.]
So, here it was. Or, more specifically, here it was coming. Now, Jehan had always been fond of plants, but to find himself turning into something very like one? That was most certainly something he had never even thought about, and the possibility was suddenly very horrifying.
The green tinge had been the first sign, and now that it had come to full on green, green as his favorite waistcoat, tendrils sprouting from his head instead of his hair, and, there were flowers on his arms now, weren't there? At least a few daisies and frankly, he had no idea what he was meant to do with those as more came in. One could hardly play a game of Loves Me, Loves Me Not, not that there had been anyone to play it about ANYWAY, but thoughts like this drifted across one's mind when they were panicked and turning green, and...someone had just stomped on a plant somewhere.
Someone had stomped on a plant and that made Jehan incredibly, rather incurably angry. It felt more like the way he'd felt when Bahorel had been killed, a rush of deep heart clenching pain, and then a desire to do something, ANYTHING about it. Not that he knew very much what TO do now, but that feeling someone he was close to had been harmed was the same one he was feeling now, and there was no way that he would stand for it if he could help it.
It was time to go and teach who, or whatever had done that some sort of lesson, even if he was a little horrified by the idea of...of feeding on them somehow. What? No that was...he couldn't possibly...
Which was how Jehan came to be making his way in the direction of the plant he had felt being harmed, even though he wanted to resist, so badly, everything that his urges and instincts were telling him right now. What choice did he have though, in the end, but to let himself be pulled along by those instincts. He could certainly change his mind once he had assessed the situation with what remained of his human mind, now couldn't he?
[Garry finds himself with few reservations on approaching the first person he spots in town who looks as out-of-place as he is. "Misery loves company" might be taking it too far - but it's easy to get and give a bit of extra open sympathy when you're lost and rather stranded socially as well.
The call-out's softly-toned - he has a hand up and pointer finger extended as he slow-jogs over.]
Did you come from the hospital? I've been... wandering the streets for some time, and the locals keep looking at me as if I'm covered in ants...
If you were headed my way, perhaps we can - exchange directions.
[Any potential start in making acquaintances is bound to be a good one.]
Scenario Two.
[Garry's not quite able to place the why, but something tells him it'd be do well enough to avoid the giggling, not investigating, and he'd gotten lost enough on the paths by the time it started growing overbearing that he's not getting diverted - come on now at this rate perhaps with luck he'll run himself back the way he meant to go.
But there didn't seem to be any avoiding it, and with every time giggling seemed to be coming from the path down ahead of him, the more the hair on the back of his neck stood up, the quicker he was to take and rush down another path, and now he's flat out running. Still hearing it, still seeing no one - until...
There's a human shape coming up down the next path, very, very quickly.]
Eeeek -- !
[With that rather undignified scream he reels back - and falls on his ass.
Looking up stunned with his teeth clenched at the stranger he's nearly collided with.]
At some point, being on this island stopped feeling like a dream - Emi wasn't sure when. She'd given up on trying to convince herself that she'd just watched too many horror movies lately; she really hadn't; but the possibility of any of this being real just seemed...
Horribly unlikely.
And totally bullshit, to be honest.
Keeping up habits from home, trying to keep her head on straight, seemed to be her best move, and that's what found her going for a run, initially, taking it slowly with the lack of proper roads where she ran, her prosthetics not quite nimble enough for an unbeaten path, but her run ended early anyways.
She was lost. Hopelessly lost, like the idiot she sure felt like she was.
[ Open to monsters who wanna gobble her up here... ]
Marco doesn't remember how he got here. Hell, he doesn't remember much of anything. One moment, he'd been making a dash for the wall, and the next - waking up on that bed, clothes wet, covered in bites and scratches, and horribly, horribly alone.
His gear's gone, which he knows he was wearing, and the doctor says he didn't have anything on him when he was fished out of the water. The doctor can't tell him much of anything, actually, besides where he is.
Vandare. Somewhere he's never heard of.
What he's most struck by, when he's finally allowed to leave, is that there's no walls. He can see across the town, to the water, and behind him - the area beyond Vandare. There's nothing stopping him from just walking out and leaving.
No Titans. Or so they said.
He scratches at a troublesome bite mark, and begins moving forward with that thought in mind.
Marco wanders the streets, occasionally attempting to engage people in conversation. Sometimes it's the locals - other times it's people similarly bedraggled, wet, and covered in bite marks, during which he attempts to ask them how they arrived here, and if they remember anything.
If he's not doing either of those things, he's lingering near the docks, watching the ships come in and out, staring at the water.
[ There's something pretty ridiculous about your life when waking up on strange new worlds becomes this common. Thankfully it hasn't yet lost its surprise, or Kairi thinks she'd really have reason to start worrying. Not that she doesn't have reason to worry at this moment, especially after waking up in a hospital of all places, and one that... well, looks like it could use some better upkeep.
Kairi almost laughs when she's told, for the second time in her life, that she's been fished out of a body of water with no answers for how she got there in the first place. The upside is that she hadn't lost her memories again. She still remembers her friends and her life up until this point. Which means she has two choices to mull over as she steps out of the building, running her hands through still damp hair. She can look for her friends, hope Riku and Lea are here, if not Sora, or...
She can investigate the water. It probably won't have any answers, but where else is she supposed to go? The hospital is behind her now, and she can't ask to stay there anyway. The scratches on her arms itch, she doesn't have one munny to her name, and no way to contact anyone or get home. At least she can defend herself with her Keyblade. ]
Or not.
[ Someone should probably tell her to put her arm down. She looks pretty ridiculous holding it up in the air with nothing happening. ]
[ it's one thing to wash up on some Norn-forsaken spit of land in the middle of nowhere - he could only assume Midgard, surrounded by mortals as he was. it wasn't the most graceful of entrances, no, but all things considered he's had worse. and since there currently wasn't any trace of bloodthirsty alien races ready to strike up a bargain for world domination around, it was a bit of a relief.
but it's another thing entirely when he feels like he's been feasted upon by leeches, or cockroaches or ... whatever it was. it's troubling that he can't recall how he managed to fall this time, and even more so when he doesn't feel his body healing at its normal rate, and he's just short of being infuriated because damn it he was on the throne and all had gone according to plan for once - but first and foremost: he looks dreadful.
the water's not exactly crystal clear, and Loki had stomped off in a huff after not receiving the information he was looking for. as time passes, his clothes dry, but he's pretty certain he's seen this tree before.
wonderful, he's walking in circles.
after enough time, there are voices, distant but not far off. all of them panicked, curious, asking the same questions. where am I? how did I get here? excuse me, do you know the way?
Loki would really rather not go out and mingle, perish the thought. they're as lost and confused as he is, only worse because they're probably all human and humans are icky.
but, if there's a crowd of them, one of them somewhere might have an inkling of an idea of what's going on.
at the very least, it'll be entertaining to watch them cower and panic as they get further lost in the woods.
so he braces himself, allowing himself a deep breath to clear his head (and a roll of his eyes because ugh this path is muddy--) he resigns himself to this temporary fate, and strolls forward, head held high and shoulders squared and that's the exact moment a tree branch latches onto a stray lock of his tangled hair.
he hates everything this is the worst and he will murder the first person to suggest cutting his hair to free himself and this is all probably Thor's fault somehow. ]
[Nature. Goddamnit. If he was lost in a city it wouldn't had been a problem. Remy got the lay of the land easy and in the worse case he would just get up high enough to get an idea of where he was. In the middle of a forest was another thing. It was like getting lost in the damn swamp back home, and that could lead to 'gators, or worse.
He knew enough to get by in a tough spot, how to use the sun to figure out directions, how to leave markings so not to get too turned around in circles (something that he felt was happening now), but he was no great wilderness survivalist. If there was any silver lining to this, it was that he was at least out in the open, not trapped somewhere.]
Yeah, keep thinkin' that. [Remy mumbled to himself, moving to pull a cigarette from his coat but froze as the laughter started. It was... a little unnerving.]
[ he should have maybe guessed this was likely to happen. while tony likes to think that he's entirely capable of navigating things like woods without anything like a gps; well, he has to admit it has been a very long time. possibly long enough that he doesn't remember it. the point is, he really doesn't think he should be lost.
and yet, here he is walking around in actual circles or some other geometric shape if the mark he's pretty sure he made on the tree is anything to go by. on the list of things he felt like doing here in general, getting lost in the woods is down somewhere near waking up like he did when he first arrived and dying.
strike that, dying might be the one thing worse if only because of the goddamn giggles he keeps hearing. there's no rhyme or reason to them. they're not constant enough and he can't— each time he thinks he's figured out where they're coming from, they seem to shift. after about ten minutes of hearing them and walking, tony's kind of had enough. ]
Hazing after the warm welcome when I first got here. Just a thought, might be why I've never heard of this place. [ a pause. ] One of you gigglers can come out of the tree now. Know this is fun to watch but this got old five minutes ago? Eight actually, but I needed the exercise— so let's just cut off three minutes. Come on, help the kind of new guy and I might help you later.
[ ooc: totally fine with brackets or prose. i'll match you. ]
[ Victor Frankenstein didn't know that much about Vandare. He didn't know why he was here, how he got here, why he was here, and so on and so forth. While part of him, admittedly, was glad (a new world where Caliban, his creation and his mistake no longer dogged his footsteps), the greater part was annoyed. Vanessa had only just recovered from her possession. He needed to be back home, back with Vanessa and Ethan, not wherever here was. The feeling of his airway constricting only added to his annoyance.
Still, no vampires so far. Count your blessings, Victor.
One of these blessings, unfortunately, was his lack of equipment. And Victor Frankenstein wanted medical equipment--how was he to continue his work here, ethical or...not so ethical, without any equipment? And so, he's at the front of the hospital, having cornered some local who obviously doesn't want to be near him. ]
The point is that I am a doctor and I can be of use. If you do not believe me, feel free to test my skills--I'm sure they'll be more than adequate.
There may be a sudden bit of commotion down the hall- someone's woken up and isn't taking their location surrounded by people so well. Garrett comes into view of the lobby, protests by a few nurses still being heard as he shoves off the hands that are trying to keep his bandages on, and possibly even take him back to his room. He doesn't know where he is, and more importantly, he doesn't even recognize anything here. This isn't the City- it's far too advanced, far too clean, and the people in it already far too kind.
Then again, he sticks out like a sore thumb with his thief attire, from an era far behind compared to this one. The stares he's getting and the rather polite but odd pitied looks make him wary, every part of him tense as a livewire.
He's leaving, pronto. Not that he can do much here without his thieving gear, but that doesn't worry him. Right now, he's figuring out where here is and hopping the next ship back to the City. He needs to get home.]
She couldn't move. Feet frozen to the ground her blood pounded fast and loud in her ears, a deafening noise as the sun began to set and night slowly crept ever nearer. She was lost, horribly so. And it had been that way for hours.
Stupid... you're fine.
After a life time of anxiety any time she found herself out alone in unfamiliar territory, she had thought she had overcome that fear when she returned to her true form. But now, somehow, that had been sealed away from her once more. Not even a trace of her power remained. With the exception of her fangs that were still present, no one would ever know that Yuuki was in fact one of the rarest and most dangerous of vampires. A pureblood.
. . . Well she was supposed to be. In reality she was probably as frightening as a kitten and still little more than a child, as far as the pureblood went. Without a way to defend herself out here-- with the exception of a large stick she'd found and decided to use as a staff, she felt defenseless.
Both hands trembled on the staff and her eyes cast out into the thick brush and forest. There it was again. That laugh. By now it sent chills up her spin. Jaw clenched, she glared fiercely into the darkening woods.
"It's not funny anymore! Come out and show yourself!"
[ OOC: Open to others who are lost like her or monsters! ]
i. [ anri makes for a colourful figure when he strolls out of the hospital like he owns it. dressed in the tiniest leather shorts imaginable, a pair of extremely elaborate, fantastical geta, some kind of leather throat guard, and a kimono slung over his shoulders painted with peonies, he's.. well.. definitely bold. and not the slightest bit self-conscious, given the way he moves. (some people might already recognize that particular grace-- sexual, sensual, but more than that, it's the way a trained killer moves.)
he pauses for a few moments, hands planting themselves on his hips, mouth turning down in a sulky expression. ]
This is boring. [ he sweeps his gaze over his immediate surroundings, taking in the few people milling about, before slinking across to someone and leaning in, smiling slyly. ] --Hey. Did you get kidnapped, too?
ii. [ lost or not, anri doesn't seem to be terribly concerned. but then, given the way he'd been raised--dead dog and prostitute and killer--that would probably be no surprise for anyone that knew him. anri has no fear of death-- possibly no fear left in him at all, except perhaps where his brother is concerned. only shiro. only shiro, his welfare, his safety.
as it is, he's humming a lullaby under his breath, perhaps inspired by the giggling, ghostly children. perched in a tree, one long leg dangling, swinging back and forth to the tune, he seems to be idly watching rest of the forest for movement. and-- there! the bushes rustle, a figure emerges, and anri smiles sweetly down at them. ] Lost?
[ emerging from a bush is a petite girl, roughly a quarter of her height belonging to her gaudy pink mane. contrary to her vivacious appearance, she's looking a bit dismal; she's lost, just like you are. she lets out a shrill but short screech when she spots another person, but quickly covers her mouth. she's aware that it's probably pretty dangerous in this forest, as it was with most forests, but this one seemed especially ominous.
when she speaks, it's in a hushed voice. ] Hey! You know where we are, right? Show me how to get out of here!
[ This is bullshit, full stop. He knows well enough not to turn himself in circles going through the woods, and for all that Desmond has resolutely made landmarks for himself before striking out just so he wouldn't get lost, here he is staring hard at the triangle he carved in the side of a birch tree not an hour earlier.
And then the giggles started, the hair on the back of his neck standing at attention. He's not afraid, he tells himself. The end of the world, he had been afraid for that, and alive or dead or somewhere inbetween he's not afraid of some stupid voices out in the haze between the trees.
...very creepy, stupid voices. Desmond lifts his own in a mock challenge, risking giving his position away, listening for anything else beneath the childish noises. Cracking branches, the crunch of leaves underfoot, the susurrus of movement in the undergrowth... ]
Come on, this is some Blair Witch level of fucked upness!
(Note: While the canon has animal characters, the author has stated that those aren't literal representations and they might as well be human. Consequently I'm playing Ruby as having always been human. I'll eventually change icons to reflect this.)
ONE She'd cleared out of the hospital pretty quick. When she woke up there, had been a horrible few minutes where she thought that they hadn't escaped at all, she was back in the Metal Glen, and it was all going to happen all over again.
But no. Thank god no. (The doctors hadn't even heard of the Glen, but that wasn't surprising.) There must have been a freak storm or something that overturned the rowboat. Yes. And if she'd washed up on shore, then the others were sure to turn up soon. Never mind that she couldn't remember a storm, and none of this accounted for all the other people she'd glimpsed around the hospital. Must have been a lot of simultaneous shipwrecks, huh?
Ruby tamped down on her worries for now -- wherever she was, she was here now, and she had other problems, like... the unfamiliar sensation of being hungry. When did she last eat, anyway?
This decided, she walked briskly through town, with a purpose in her step that she didn't quite feel, looking for a place kind enough to provide a free meal to some strange castaway.
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graveyardsmash2014-07-04 09:45 pm
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