TEST DRIVE MEME: JULY / AUGUST

[ryslighelpers]

TDM: JULY / AUGUST

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

3/3

[loungelizard]

[Larry reaches out again and catches Lovage's neck with the inside of his elbow, trapping his nephew's head against his side in order to execute an affectionate head-noogie. Hopefully he won't mind his hair getting messed up; the ocean already did a number.]

You pervert! You scoundrel! You absolute dog!

[He lays into him, of course, as if each and every one is an sanction, not an admonishment. Larry lets go of him, and now holds his hands up to his mouth in a failed attempt to hide the smile cracking his face in half.]

I couldn't be prouder of you! [His voice is cracking in excitement.] Oh, I'm gonna cry!

[He might, actually.

Don't tell him it's nepotism, or else he'll have a real reason to cry.]

[lights_camera_asshole]

I, uh-- yeah, a few times. But there's a lot of girls there too, right. And he's just a volleyball so it doesn't mean any--hurk-!

[Noogie noogie noogie. Lovage laughs and squirms around under Larry's arm.]

Wuh? But Uncle Larry, you're the one who brought me there in the first--

[Lovage stops and remembers that he doesn't remember.]

...I mean, b-because you're such an inspiration!

[When he's released from the Noogie Zone he stands up and flashes him a smile just as wide.] Yeah!! I, uh, kinda do a little of everything around the lot. Some of it's acting and a lot of it's stuff like makeup, or cameras, or some days I'm the gopher, and then others I'm, uh, the fluffer. I got a wrist brace just to deal with that one...

...But it's been great! Better than building concrete molds like my career advisor at Walnut Log told me to do.

[loungelizard]

Don't be so modest, li'l buddy! You get paid to be surrounded by sex all day long! That's the dream!

[Beat...]

But if you want to give me credit, well...I certainly won't turn it down, hehe!

[He puts an arm around Lovage's shoulders.]

C'mon. Let's get you some fresh clothes, a meal, and I'll give you the rundown on what the deal is with this place--and in exchange...you can tell me all about your dalliances in pornography! Sound good?

[lights_camera_asshole]

Yeah! It's still work and all, sometimes you clean up some vomit or get frisky with a few inanimate objects...but it's still a great gig!

[Excited bouncing! Which means Larry's probably getting jostled around a bit too.]

Yeah!! I'm starting to get kinda drafty in this stuff. [He plucks some seaweed off his shoulder.] The shrinkage is real, and it's terrible.

[loungelizard]

[Jostle away, Nephew.]

Don't worry - I know exactly what you mean!

[It's not the shortest trip to midtown Bavan, bordering on the edges of The Good Streets and The Part Of Town You Don't Want To Be Caught Alone In. It's not a house, but rather a small office building in reputable state. Inside smells of solder and old computer parts, of which plenty are piled up in as organized sections as they can be; it feels like home to Laffer, but maybe not so much Lovage.

The basement is definitely more homely. He's managed to get the place set up with a bed, a table with some chairs, a couch, and a dresser with a build-in mirror. There's a stocked kitchenette in the corner and off to the side. It smells...not quite like Larry. It smells quite a lot like a whole bunch of other peoples' houses, because the entirety of this selection was bought second-hand. But that doesn't make Larry any less proud of his little nest. He presents it with a flourish wave.]

Home sweet home! Make yourself comfortable. Can I get you somethin' to drink?

[lights_camera_asshole]

[Rest assured that Lovage spends the entire trip prattling about what he loves and hates about the various "sets" that they travel through. He also has to be pulled away from encounters with various folks, human and monster alike, before he overloads them with questions about who handled their costuming or where the puppeteer is. When they finally get inside, Lovage sets the volleyball on the table and scuttles back to the center for a good look around.]

Cool digs! It's bigger than my RV for sure. I'll still take the wheels any day, though.

[Comfortable! Don't have to tell him twice; he’s already hopped onto the couch, kicked off his sandals, and set his filthy little feet up on the cushions.]

Uh, somethin' strong if you've got it. Today's been a rough ride.

[loungelizard]

[Larry, likewise, spends the whole trip eating up everything that Lovage feels the need to share, doing the pulling when needed to keep him focused on getting to somewhere safe so that Lovage can recover -- even though his spirit doesn't seem that injured...must be nice to be young.]

You live in an RV now? That's pretty cool! A "love nest on wheels" sounds like it'd be groovy.

[You know he's picturing warm colors and a shag carpet, here...

Larry goes to the kitchenette and starts going through it when Lovage makes his request. He...pauses for a moment. Well, yes, they have "something strong"...and Fiddleford wouldn't have left so dang much of it here if he didn't want to share it, right?

Of course, Larry's palate isn't nearly that strong, so it goes mostly untouched, except for antiseptic use.]

I have, uh...beer...moonshine...aaaaaaaand nothing in-between.

[He's not going to judge but he's pretty sure this palate for booze runs in the family.]

Just to be thorough: I also have water, soda, coffee, and tea.

[...because it's just standard break room faire.]

[lights_camera_asshole]

[He's not too far off on the decor, admittedly.]

Groovy's right! You never know where you're gonna land in the shagmobile.

[Moonshine! There's no way that's Uncle Larry's supply. He's a tequila sunrise kinda guy, and Lovage isn't convinced that a shot of that good shit wouldn't kill him.

Oh, but they're in Snake Thing's basement, aren't they? He supposes it's only fair that he take reparations for that near-death experience.]

...Moonshine's good!

[loungelizard]

[Larry's eyebrows shoot up towards the roof and shoots a smirk over his shoulder at Lovage.]

Your funeral! Boss makes it strong.

[So he fetches a shot glass from the cabinet and a jug of moonshine and pours some out for him. He pours some water, too, because a shot of moonshine isn't going to quench anyone's thirst as much as punch them in the mouth.

He returns to Lovage with both in hand and holds them out for him to take.]

Are we pants-free comfort level with each other these days? I, er, run a little warmer than I used to.

[lights_camera_asshole]

Honestly? After the day I've had, it might not be strong enough.

[Lovage takes both and, thankfully for everyone involved, opts not to shotgun the whole damn thing. Instead he takes a sip from the shotglass, which is enough to send him reeling back against the couch cushions.]

HOO-WOOPH. This stuff's arson in a jar!

[Snickers.] Uncle Larry, I think you've told be about every time you've gotten your dick wet in your life. Pants-free might be a step down.

[loungelizard]

[Larry giggles.]

Figured I'd ask! It's been a while since we last had an interaction.

[He wanders off towards the bed and starts taking off his clothes and draping them on the side of it. And it turns out...the teeth were only the tip of the iceberg. What lies underneath his clothes is rich, thick body hair...but it's a little to fluffy and soft to be real body hair. His feet are black, but not due to some sort of injury or necrosis -- it's just healthy and dark skin. They're larger - just enough to proportionally seem out of synch with the rest of him - and toes have become longer. He stretches them out as he says something to himself along the lines of should really get some new shoes.

What's most notable is the mass of fluffy brown hair-fur that has taken up the entire space of his coccyx area and does an amazingly good job at hiding exactly how his body transitions into the flat, stubby tail coming out of his rear. It's like half of the most ridiculously fluffy pancake in the world, but black like his feet are, and has a rough, almost scale-like texture to it.

For what it's worth, he keeps his awful leopard-print undies on, hiked just under his stubby tail to give it breathing room.

He plops down on the couch next to Lovage and gives a biiiiiiiiig stretch with his arms up in the air before plopping his feet on the table just like his nephew and folding his arms back to his shoulders.]

So -- whaddya think? Heheh.

[lights_camera_asshole]

It hasn't been that-- [Dude, stop.] You're right! better safe than...uh...

[Hey.]

[What the fuck?]

[Lovage watches the whole thing go down with rapt attention, still as a statue while he tries not to grip his shotglass so hard it explodes. His eyes, wide as dinner plates, race up frantically up and down Larry's body as each new surprise is revealed. When he plops down next to him Lovage stares into his face in silent, paralyzing horror.]

Uncle Larry, why are you...

[He takes another sip of moonshine, with no reaction.]

...wearin' prosthetics under your clothes?

[loungelizard]

No prosthetics involved!

[Cheery as ever, he hikes a leg up and adjusts so that his foot can be carefully inspected by Lovage. Up close like this, the thick membrane that connects his toes is clearly visible.]

Check it out -- totally organic!

[He waggles his toes.]

[lights_camera_asshole]

[Lovage leans away and brings his knees up to his chest in a desperate attempt to shrink out of existence.]

Uncle Larry I don't want to look at your feet.

[loungelizard]

[Larry lowers his foot back to where it was earlier.]

Oh, that's fine. I just figured the foot would be more polite presenting my rear.

...but I can show you my itty-bitty baby beaver tail if you want to see it!

[He giggles.]

I think it's cute.

[lights_camera_asshole]

[He's still staring, but his eyes are starting to droop from a combination of stress, shock, and getting the shit beaten out of him by this moonshine. Speaking of, there goes another sip.]

I'm sure it's adorable, but you've also had more than an hour to readjust your worldview.

[loungelizard]

You know, it hurts less if you just kick it back and get it over with.

Oh, you'll get used to it. You'll have to, if you want to catch the attentions of a she-monster and know how to make love to whatever configuration her gonads have changed to!

[As if this was some sort of uplifting sage advice, he throws an arm over Lovage's shoulder and brings him in for a neck-hug as he turns the television on. It's a Ryslig off-brand of something like I Love Lucy, or Dennis the Menace, or old WB cartoons. Pick your poison.]

For now, just focus on resting up. It's been an eventful day!

[lights_camera_asshole]

I want to feel alive.

...I get to fuck monsters?

[He doesn't even give a shit what's on TV at home, because he's a filthy fucking millennial who knows cable is a dying medium. But now he extra doesn't give a shit, because he's torn between the horror of being thrown headfirst into the unknown and the fantasy he's currently having of getting frisky with a gargoyle.]

...I get to fuck monsters.

[sip]

[loungelizard]

[Larry squishes his cheek up against Lovage's, giving him a squeeze to emphasize every word:]

You. Get to. Have sex. With. Monsters.

[Then he fingerguns with his free hand and clicks his tongue twice.]

[lights_camera_asshole]

[Lovage stares at Larry's feet, but not in the weird way.]

...And you get to be the monster people have sex with.

[Pause.]

That's kinda dope, Uncle Larry.

[loungelizard]

It is extremely "dope."

[Larry presses a finger into his chest.]

And you get to be the monster people have sex with, too!

[lights_camera_asshole]

[He stares at the finger on his chest]

Do I have to? I kinda prefer being the sexy little human studmuffin that all the big titty girl dragons wanna fuck to rebel against their bigoted and overbearing dads.

[loungelizard]

[Larry chuckles.]

Nephew. Dearest nephew.

[That poking hand flattens out as he pats Lovage on the chest.]

You could be the big-chested dragon that all of the cute human damsels want to have sex with to rebel against their bigoted and overbearing dads!

[Please disregard that your uncle is definitely not turning into a sexy muscle-bound big-chested dragon, he is turning into a tree-munching rodent, but...you know.]

Also...you have no choice.

[lights_camera_asshole]

[He's not, and that hasn't escaped Lovage. He stares at Larry's chest (but not like that) and then looks up at him dubiously.]

But you're not turning into a big titty dragon. Do I get any say in what I am? Being a beaver sounds--

[Watch it, buddy. You know what your uncle can do with those big sad blue eyes.]

--fine, but not really my speed.

[loungelizard]

You think I picked beaver? [He giggles.] Just like everything else in life -- you have to play with the hand you're dealt! Not everything plays out like The Insult that Made a Man out of Mac.

Besides - I might not have a big chest, but have you seen this ass? Women can't keep their hands off!

[This might be a lie derived from some color of truth. His ass is, after all, very fluffy.]