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graveyardsmash2020-05-08 05:52 am
ryslighelpers) wrote in graveyardsmash2020-05-08 05:52 am
Entry tags:
TEST DRIVE MEME: MAY/JUNE
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.
Larry Laffer ♥︎ Leisure Suit Larry ♦︎ OTA
This is not the first time that Larry has woken up from unconsciousness after being washed up on a beach. It probably won't be the last.
This is the first time (at least that he can remember) that he woke up to the business end of someone's shotgun. It's what rouses him from his unconscious state, and if they weren't so persistent and the sand beneath him so uncomfortable, he probably would've just kept sleeping.
With a groan, he opens his eyes and looks up at the offending object and--squawks. He's quick to scramble to his knees and fall backward, then crawls backwards back into the water a few inches before he realizes there's probably no way to extend enough distance to be safe from a shotgun blast.
"W-woah-woah-woah, no need for firearms!" he titters in fear, trying his best to push a disarming smile through his grimace. "She didn't tell me she was your wife! ...Girlfriend! ...uh, s-sister?"
He's definitely not going to be able to talk himself out of this one, on account of having absolutely no idea where he is or how he got here.
TWO: NERF THIS (INVENTORY)
Okay, so he's kind of picked up the 411 on what's going on. It's a little weird because it doesn't seem like the kind of adventure he'd go on, but maybe this is some sort of weird crossover or something? Even if that's the case, it's still weird, because it doesn't seem like he's the best equipped for this kind of game.
Speaking of equipment...
He picks up a pamphlet, skims it, and decides this might be one of the more useful ones (regardless if it is or not). He pulls open the lapel of his jacket and slips the pamphlet into it. He's already looking for the next one to take as he lets go of it, and it falls to the floor with a thwip.
Larry looks down at it, clearly puzzled. He leans down, picks it up, and tries it again, to the same exact result.
Horror dawns on his features and he stares at his pamphlet-weilding hand as if it betrayed him.
"Th...they took it..." he mutters to himself. In a fit of dramatics, Larry drops to his knees. "M-my i-inventory...!"
THREE: NEW HARDWARE
His transformation kicked in without much fanfare, which is not to say that it wasn't a radical change. Instead of getting used to changes as they come in, he just went to sleep sore as hell and woke up in a new, chrome-plated body, which means that he has to learn everything about it all at the same time.
Needless to say it's overwhelming. Instead of developing a tension headache, the inside of his head heats up and he has to take a long, idle break to let it cool off. It's not all bad, necessarily. It's just a lot and it all comes as a surprise.
So here he is, hanging out outside in some sitting area somewhere, taking one of those cool-off breaks. One of the nice things about this new body is that it comes pre-packaged with visual entertainment to while the time away. With his sleeves pulled up over his elbows like usual, Larry holds up an arm to watch the lava lamp that his forearm turned into, the pixels in his eye-displays bouncing cartoonishly with every blink as he bathes the immediate area around him in a warm, golden glow.
2
"Nick! Is that--" Oh, wait, that hair's just a little different, she notices. All of the surprise and hope and dread on the little mermaid's face slides out as it dawns on her. "Not... you."
Well, that's no excuse not to find what this weirdo's doing with his pamphlets, anyway, and him talking about his inventory seems kind of familiar. With no regard to the fact she might have alarmed Larry with her exclamation, Maya approaches to ask--
"Wait, what are you yelling about?"
i'd say i'm sorry but i'm pretty sure you fully expected this to happen
He jolts upright as soon as her voice hits his ears, like a siren so--...uh, anyway, he turns to look at her and oh wow they really weren't kidding about the monster thing huh? Although this is not...exactly what he was expecting when he heard the word "monster". She's not human, no, but it doesn't really seem to make a difference to Larry. She's cute and she's freaky and it causes his heart to jump into his throat all the same.
As she approaches, Larry stands up as if absolutely nothing that shattered his world just happened two seconds ago.
"Oh, ah, --nothing! Just lost something, that's all, eheh. Nothing that can't be replaced!"
Well, not really. But ladies don't like a downer.
"My name's Larry--" -he giggles- "--Larry Laffer. And what can I call you, gorgeous?"
100% tbh
"Maya! Maya Fey," she answers, putting on a bright smile and clasping her hands together. "You must be new here, huh, Mr. Laffer?"
With her demeanor all sweet like that, she definitely doesn't come across as the type of person who'll dunk on him in a few minutes or could possibly eat him, right????
this is larry discrimination
Or...maybe, actually, yeah. It's not that Larry doesn't believe that the whole monsters-eating-people thing isn't true. In fact, he's pretty sure of it. The more appropriate question is does he care, to which the answer is no, because he's never had a reason to fear death before on account of being intimately familiar with it.
And she'll probably dunk on him too, but that's never stopped him before. Why would it now?
"Yep! Just washed in earlier today, actually. Come to think of it..." He tilts a little in her direction. "I could use the guiding hand of a more experienced woman to show me the ropes..."
Is this really the euphemism you want to use, Larry?
if the larry fits
we sits (???)
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One !
Rather, floating forward is going to give the townsfolk pause.
Or at least once he speaks. "I suggest you put those weapons down," he begins, his expression stern. "There is no need for them here."
It's a grim thing to have confidence in he's sure, but thanks to the state of his being he's fairly certain that if he gets shot at for approaching silently from behind, it won't matter.
Aside from this cloak, all he really is is a head after all.
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The guy is not nearly as threatened by Jonathan's presence as Larry expects him to be. If anything, the dude looks at Jonathan as if he's a frustrating inconvenience between him and having a chance to cull some of the herd at the pass. He stands his ground for a foolish few seconds before making a wordless huff and stomping off.
Larry stares at Jonathan for the entire duration, and despite his ghastly appearance, there is something oddly normal in the air. He's never seen anything like him before, and yeah, he kinda does flare up that hindbrain flight-or-flight out of instinct, but looking at him face-on for a while tames it. The undead aren't supposed to have such textbook-handsome, chiselled features. Horror movies lied.
"Uh...thanks. I think?"
He stares off into the distance for a good while, apparently not in any kind of rush to stop his leisure suit flooding with seawater, then bows his head down and gingerly touches his receding hairline. He has a headache, but it's due to dehydration more than anything else.
"What in the world did I get up to last night? Uff."
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For now at least the lich shakes his head. If one ignores the fact that there are no visible feet, or hands, it's easy to imagine that he's simply a strangely pale man in a cloak. "There's no need- I only did what was right. The important thing is that you're safe. And hopefully uninjured. I do not believe that whatever happened 'last night' for yourself would be cause for arriving here, but if I may ask, how do you feel?"
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"Uhh..." He looks down at himself. "Not...great," he answers honestly. "I feel like I've been run over and then backed up on by a taxi!"
He has it on good authority that he knows exactly what that feels like. That good authority is his previous experience.
Larry pushes himself up into standing. Sandy grit gets left behind between his skin and polyester as water drains out of his clothes, and he almost wishes he was back in the water to escape it, but that just means that he'll have to deal with it later. He takes the handful of steps to get properly out of the water, shucks off his shoes one at a time to dump seawater out of them before slipping them back on. Squish. Nope, still sucks.
"Just need a place to dry out, a nap, and I'll be back to my usual self!"
Probably. Hopefully.
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3 | spiderman pointing at himself.jpg
And then he sees the lava lamp. It's unclear how exactly when his head is a distinctly-eyeless six by six Cubic's Cube, but somehow or another something is recording visual data and transmitting it to whatever now passes for his brain. He isn't thinking too hard about his own biology because if he does the urge to take himself apart will become too strong and he isn't confident he'll be able to put himself back together if he tries.
Anyway. He turns his feet and skids to a stop a few feet away from Larry. The music is coming from the speaker in his throat, but it stops with an abrupt record scratch so he can speak. The voice that comes out has the same pops and skips as an old record might.
"Well ain't that neat. I haven't seen a lava lamp in near on four years."
i found you, faker
The grind of wheels against pavement is what gets his head to turn out of curiosity. Wow, that guy(?) sure is a lot going on at once. But Larry would be too if the sun was out and he was standing directly in it. This chrome finish might cause someone to go blind. Even met with Fiddleford's bizarre appearance (don't they all have one, at this point?), Larry grins.
"I s'pose I haven't seen any around here either -- now that you mention it!"
His voice isn't that distorted. It's got that kind of fidelity that any post-90s audio file would have, which is to say that it sounds just *slightly* different than what it perhaps should.
He waves at the other, only half in greeting, half in experimentation. Lava globules closest to his wrist splat back-and-forth against the glass walls, shattering the blobs into significantly smaller chunks until his arm comes to a still, where they settle and slowly start to merge back together.
"I don't know what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn't this!"
He giggles.
(oooh here he comes) he's a maneater
Wiping the sand from his face, he puts on a smug expression and waltzes right up to the man pointing the shotgun at the simpering man on the ground.
"Nice gun. Mind if I show you mine?"
He reaches back casually to pull his shotgun from out of his back holster when his hand meets empty air. His expression slowly becomes horrified, but before he can get another word out, the man turns and points the shotgun directly at his chest, gesturing for him to stand next to Larry. Ash raises his arms, alarmed. He's survived Deadite encounters in the past, but a hail of bullets to the chest is something he's fairly certain he won't be able to recover from.
"Okay, okay! Jeez, talk about someone who can't handle competition...."
He starts inching very slowly towards Larry, his hands still up in the air. So much for being a hero.
"Come here often?"
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He frowns as Ash is shuttled to Larry's side. Well, it was a bold attempt. It's the thought that counts to him.
"Never challenge another guy to an equipment-measuring competition," he jokes under his breath, as if he's trying to ignore the reality of the situation before them. "It rarely ends well."
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Ash eyes the man holding the shotgun, trying to search his tiny brain for any possible ideas to un-fuck the situation he fucked up in the first place. He's got nothing on him right now--not his shotgun, not his chainsaw, not even--
Wait. His metal hand. He's still got that, by some stroke of luck. If he can detach it and...maybe...throw it at the man, maybe he'll be startled enough to allow them to overpower him. Maybe.
Ash glances towards Larry, then towards the man currently threatening their lives. Trying very hard to be casual, he stretches his arms back and tries loosening his hand from the stump.
"Hey, pal. Uh, you've...got something on your face right there--"
He flings his arm towards the shotgun-wielding maniac, the hand detaching and smacking the man right in the face. This is...so incredibly stupid, but if it works....
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oh no
did somebody say crossover gameGrace always feels a small pang of sympathy for the schmucks who take the pamphlets, because the pamphlets are completely useless and just end up confusing them even more.
"You really don't need those," She calls over from where she's sitting. "Most of them are made-up, anyway."
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technically every Sierra title is a crossover from Larry's perspective, or they at least take place in the same reality...He's almost too wrapped up in the sorrow of the loss of his reality-bending inventory powers to notice that Grace is talking to him. Almost. There are certain things that will always to take priority to Larry, and unfortunately they're very easy to figure out.
"Oh -- I'm sure of it!" he says, melodic with cheer, as if he wasn't feeling sorry for himself just a split second ago. "But I'd rather pick up all the red herrings when I find them than have to come back here to find something I left behind, heheh."
Right, because that makes complete sense without context.
"Although..."
He looks down at the fallen pamphlet and picks it up, turning it this way and that as he gives it a contemplative stare, muttering as if he was talking to himself -- and a theoretical someone else who might be listening in.
"I guess I'll have to rethink my usual strategy if I have a limited inventory..."
He tucks the pamphlet back where he found it, then approaches Grace to stand next to her at a comfortable conversational distance. Look, he's a pervert, not a creep. With a closer proximity, he can clearly see her round bear-ears and claws, but they do absolutely nothing in warding him off.
"I'm Larry," he introduces with a giggle, "Larry Laffer!"
two
She seems very amused by your antics, and will in fact laugh when you fall to the ground in horror. ]
Ha ha ha hah! Suck it up, Shakespeare, you'll probably get something cooler in a month or so.
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Not this guy.
Larry screeches and reels back to fall on his ass.]
HEYAWEAHEWUEH???
[Text parser machine broke.]
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What's wrong, weirdo? Haven't ya ever seen a real monster before?
[ Is that a cheeky grin, or a malicious show of teeth? Who can say? At least she seems content to toy with her prey for now. ]
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three; (my life as a teenage robot playing muffled in the distance)
And normally? Even despite both being Simulacra, she wouldn't have even bothered to stop for a chat.
But something catches her eye - her pixelated eye, lit up on an LCD screen - and before long, Larry's getting treated to a weird teenage robot running up with a look of disbelief.]
What - lava lamps!? You got lava lamps!?
That's so unfair; all I got are LEDs!
[Well, no... she also got a singing robot voice. Hopefully the whole "sounds like a Vocaloid" thing isn't irritating.]
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Oh, she's--okay, this is a monster transformation thing. She's not mad at him. He can roll with that -- "vocaloid-esque" voice included, perhaps because he's never heard anything like it before, but it seems to check out for the Simulacrum situation too.]
You still look pretty cool, though!
[He giggles.]
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She ends up reaching up to twirl one of those cables of hers around her finger, still staring with contempt at his lava lamps.
Man, those are cool.]
I mean, I guess... if you like cartoon mascots.
You got any extra gadgets, too? All the other Simulacra seem to have tons of those... you know - pop out rollerskates, lighters in their fingers, tasers, toasters, the works.
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1/2
2/2
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2
The man asking the question is bespectacled, Latino, and in his early forties and looking at Larry like he's not entirely sure what to make of him. He's also a completely normal appearing human. Well. At least for now.
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"Store? N-no, as in...how much stuff you can carry with you at one time...?"
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Hilariously, I play a younger version of Steven at Victory Road
how MUCH younger, though...
5 1/2 years younger
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