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graveyardsmash2020-09-11 10:03 am
ryslighelpers) wrote in graveyardsmash2020-09-11 10:03 am
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TEST DRIVE MEME: SEPTEMBER
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.
[rose voice] so what do you have against my dad, anyway
tara turns around where she stands. a less athletic person may have fallen in the sand, but she's about to avoid a pratfall. she doesn't register the comedy of the situation, even as she flounders slightly in the sand. out of anyone in the world right now, this was the one she would least like to see.
she pulls a smile, anyway, because that's what she does. better than acknowledging the viper's pit of emotions steadily forming in her stomach.]
...You've got something on your face.
[ and neck. and back. and - fuck, is that a halo?
the shock of the situation fades. slade. it's really slade. slade as some kind of - angel? tara almost thinks to laugh. it's funny, or ironic, and she wants to - she doesn't know what she wants to do. steal his stupid halo and crack it over her knee?
an angel.
her lip curls, and then her expression shifts. rage and grief quickly overtake whatever distant sense of relief the familiar face had brought her. it hadn't been too long ago that they'd seen each other last. it hadn't been too long since slade had said what he said. her hands ball into fists, and the earth does not rush up to meet her. it is silent. it feels dead. ]
You bastard. What kind of sick joke is this? What did you do?! Where are we?!
[ she really doesn't have much reason to blame him, at least for this. it still feels damn good to do so, though. he should still be rotting in arkham, and it would have served him right. every fiber of her being wants to knock slade on his ass, or punt him into the sea. things that she could have done, with the aid of some friendly rocks and dirt, just a second ago. nothing she can do now. ]
[rose voice] REBEL SCREAMING
Understandably, he isn't a fan.
It may have only been a few weeks since Tara last saw Slade, but it's been over a year since Slade's last seen Tara. In that time, he challenged Batman, got taken to Arkham, died, and came back to life in time for Thanksgiving. All of that is before counting the days since Slade's arrived here. Four months, and he's been counting.
The shock of the situation has not faded on his end. She shouldn't be here. None of them should be here. Not Joey, not Tara, not even Harley Quinn. If anyone's at the butt-end of a cruel joke, it's Slade. The expression of anger that creeps onto his features isn't directed at her, not that Tara would understand Slade's internal gripe with the Fog God. His sense of peace won't return until all of them disappear, which seems to be the one and only way to escape this world. ]
Why would I take your powers, Tara? Think. [ He doesn't actually give her time to think. Even saying her name is tough, like it makes her presence more real than it already is. ] I wouldn't. I wouldn't know how even if I wanted to.
You gonna listen, or are you gonna scream? Can't do both.
please let me know if tara should lay off
[ it's almost an automatic reaction - something tara's said to him many times before. she meets his eye - eyes? - and calms, though, because as loath as she is to admit it - he's right. no matter how much of an absolute ass slade may be, tara has always been an asset to him. she knows that better than anybody.
but it's not like he has any power over her anymore.
still, still. she wills herself to file away the events of their last conversation. tara crosses her arms and sharpens her tongue. ]
After all, I'm not a kid anymore.
[ honestly, tara doesn't know if slade is capable of being hurt by words. but goddamn, is she gonna try. ]
...Fine, okay. Talk. But Jesus, Slade, you smell like a middle schooler's special edition Bath N' Body Works Spray. Doesn't really suit your image.
fight this strawberry bastard man to the death
[ If he tries, he can still feel the constricting hold of earth around him when he recalls the result of their last words to each other. He didn't need Virtual Wintergreen to tell him it was a bad idea. He knew it.
Her anger is justified, even if Slade won't bring himself to be anything but outwardly annoyed by it. ]
Already got Eau De Tollhouse Cookies. Don't think you can top that one. [ No one hates how weirdly nice Slade smells more than Slade. He can ignore the scent of morning waffles long enough to nod his head in a direction further along the shore, a gesture for her to walk with him. ]
Some she-witch of a god dragged us both from Earth. Joseph's here, too. [ And thank god for that. ] None of us have our powers. Anyone who lands here loses everything they come in with. Can't tell if this god, the Fog God, is on par with anything from our world — she's got the magic of Zatana but the drive of Lex Luthor.
...Speaking of, no one here has heard of either of them. No one knows Batman. The locals don't know what Netflix or Twitter are. And you're going to turn into this, [ He glances down at himself with four eyes. ] or worse.
hoist by his own sugarplum-coated petard
[ and murder, but that's a given.
she'll walk with him. her boots sink into the sand in a way she hasn't had to contend with in years. it's a small thing, just another small humiliation to file away when she's finally able to confront the party responsible. and speaking of them... ]
A god. Great. Nothing I love more than some insurmountable odds. Especially without my powers.
[ she takes in the rest of what he's saying, though. hoarding information has always been automatic for her - if you're always paying attention, there's precious little that can take you by surprise. it's just another kind of armor.
tara sticks her hands in her pocket, glancing up at slade. it's familiar in a way that makes her insides twist. she vows to kill him very painfully the second she gets her powers back, or at least maim him very creatively. ]
Great. Guess we're on the same side, big guy. Yay.
[ she's. so enthused. you can really hear it in the flatness of her tone. ]
I don't know what you're talking about. This is a great look for you. The extra eyes really do it. You should consider taking some pics for Addie for when we get out of here. Trust me. The glow from your halo is really bringing out the blue in all of your eyes.
yes murder excellent
[ More than anyone, Tara should understand the impossible chances of their planet pressure cooking together life from clay, sulfur, and space dust.
This pep talk, it's familiar to him as well. How many times had he used pleasantries to convince her that the mission within the Titans was a worthwhile one? Too many times; that's the answer he gives himself. Regardless, he's gotten pretty good at ignoring the discomfort in favor of focusing on the end goal.
Her name is the one thing he takes away from Tara's snark. For as many times as he said that he loves being away from Adeline, there's this whole thing where Slade doesn't actually love being away from Adeline. Not in this way. Being on the other side of the world isn't different from being on another world entirely — one with no cell phone reception, or cell phones, for that matter, to boot. He rarely called Adeline before, but not having the option to is the problem.
Unlike other monsters, Slade is getting by because he has to. He has a job, he makes money, he owns a house, because living on the street is the alternative. This place isn't his home. Bringing more of his people over won't change that.
But rather than address the fact that he might somehow miss his ex, he ignores the comment entirely. ]
What's the last thing you remember?
when tara gets monster powers it's all over for u
[ it's terse. she hates his pep talks - and how often they cross over into lectures. she gets it; slade has a teacher complex. it's the least subtle thing in the world, but that doesn't mean she has to suffer for it.
it's easy to put this into the context of a necessary alliance, though. especially when put in the context of this world. she doesn't trust him, not by a long shot, but tara knows exactly what slade wilson can be depended on for. ]
A certain conversation in Chinatown. Do ya want me to recount it? I can give you a killer play-by-play.
[ her hands are clenched into fists again. but it's a start. ]
no subject
The conversation in question makes him stop in his tracks and turn to face her. He remembers exactly what he said and how he said it. He remembers the earth in the air, her tear-stained rage, the way the world molded around her pain.
No, he doesn't need a play-by-play. ]
That was a year ago. [ More flat tones that could mean anything. That was a year ago; get over it. That was a year ago; why bring it up now? That was a year ago; that's not what I asked you. In true Slade fashion, he doesn't elaborate on which one of these he means. ]
no subject
[ she flashes a cheeky grin. she'd rather deflect than answer questions about why she'd wound up at university to begin with - whatever kind of foolish longing for normalcy had given her that idea is clearly off the table. maybe it had been for a while.
tara's eyes flicker to slade's face. she's careful to keep her own expression calculating - with him, it's safest to stay either sarcastic and cheerful, or closed off. she can't risk using her composure again.
maybe it's best not to talk about it. ]
Not for me. It wasn't that long ago for me, at all.
[ a week, maybe, since tara had stopped bothering with classes or showing up to her work "dates." it's hard to keep the bitterness out of her voice. ]
But hey, you said what you needed to say. Who am I to question your strategies?