graveyardsmash | TEST DRIVE MEME: SEPTEMBER

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test drive

TEST DRIVE MEME: SEPTEMBER

TDM: 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.

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[Fabius had never known Lucius to be a fearful man, nor would he ever entertain the thought that fear is the reason he hasn't been struck down by that monstrous anatomy. He is far wiser than that, but it certainly lends Lucius no favors in the way the apothecary vivisects him by gaze alone. No gene-seed meant that the internal cavity of his legion-brother was completely different, and as Lucius so obediently answers his questions, Fabius cannot help the shiver of excitement that ignites the new nerves in his old flesh.

Bony fingers raise to his chin, stroking the leathery skin there as he finishes his rounding. His feet barely register the fact they sink naked into the wet sand, his attention far too consumed with this new and interesting appearance of the horror that is Lucius the Eternal.]

Ryslig? [He asks, and there is genuine concern in his graveled voice. He has known many planets, all across the galaxy and even in Eyespace. Yet the name is wholly unfamiliar. Thoughts parse through his mind, of how this could be an alternate dimension, or a whole new galaxy. The thoughts only raise more questions than they answer, though something nags back to the forefront of his mind.

His hand lowers from his chin, folding itself neatly with its twin behind his back.] You made mention that these mutations are coming for me too, and of a capricious god who has managed to not only capture you, but myself as well. [He speaks as if he's lining pieces to a puzzle, more so for his own benefit than Lucius, and whatever disdain his brother would feel over the rambling would be met with complete ignorance.]

Are there others like you? [A chill runs down his spine, and his bony fingers flex. What other monstrosities lie in wait of him on this 'Ryslig', he wonders. Just the thought of new and exciting flesh to bury his hands wrist-deep into is enough to spread an eerie grin across his deathly features.]

Finally you begin to catch on, [ Lucius says, a thin edge of humor in his voice. Of course Fabius would see the sick opportunity in this situation. There is a rare moment where Lucius isn't wholly sure what to say—not out of concern for his fellow monster, but for simple disgust at the proclivities of the man in front of him. ] Does it please you to hear that we aren't alone? You have new kinsmen enough on this rock to keep you happy and occupied for quite some time, I imagine.

[ His tail continues to sway—and yet, even as he speaks, the irritation in the movement seems to ebb. Fabius is as untrustworthy as a man can come, but it's that very fact that lends him any predictability at all. Fabius will want to take their monstrous kin apart, and he will do whatever is necessary for the tools and opportunity to manage just that.

Can he play that fact to his own advantage, he wonders? ]

Of course, [ Lucius begins, a cruel purr once more lacing the syllables and a needle-sharp smile once more growing across his lips, ] right now, you're quite without the tools of your vile trade. A shame, isn't it?

[A tuneless drumming of fingers is all that hints at the thoughts that may be running through Fabius' head, but of course, Lucius knows very well in what vein those lie. Ever the inquisitive doctor, what better way to learn about the new world he found himself occupied in than to vivisect its inhabitants?

Lucius is one of the most ruthless killers Fabius has ever known, his skill uncontested, and that was reason enough to want his legion-brother back in his pocket—rather than as an enemy.]

I am so glad you understand my predicament. [Fabius' lipless mouth spreads wider into a grim smile, his gaunt face wrinkling under its impose.] I am sure you know just where to find what I need though, you've been here for what... months? Years? Or has it been centuries yet?

[A question he doesn't allow Lucius to answer, simply because he doesn't care, as he continues on.] Help me get tools and I'll give you what you desire. Empowered strength once more, or perhaps you would like me to reroute your pleasure synapses again? Or maybe... [Fabius takes a step closer, and despite the fact he'd just been spat out by the sea, the putrid scent of death and formaldehyde seems to cling to him.]

Ambrosia?

[ A half-formed question comes to mind, as Fabius rhetorically mulls over the matter of how long Lucius has been within this world: returned to mortal flesh, will he age as they do? Might he die of old age before he finds the way back to his proper form? Like so many other doubts, Lucius has forced it deep down into the unexamined recesses of his mind, but Fabius' deathly rasp pulls it forth as if it were simply one of a dozen curiosities lined along a shelf, free for the taking.

Good, then, that he doesn't expect or allow Lucius to answer. The thought can be shoved down more, even as his tail moves in another involuntary, irritated flick. ]

Indeed, I do. There are tales of a witch within this land: bargain with her, and she'll return your precious tools to you, beyond the useless junk this primitive world has to offer. Of course, [ and his smile pulls wider, ] there is a trick to it. She only accepts a very particular currency.

[ Lucius folds his own arms across his chest, and again, a golden-clawed finger comes up to tap at his chin. ] I have been saving for this and that, but I suppose I could chip in... Provided there are benefits for me to reap. Ambrosia may be a decent place to start — for both of us.

[Oil-black eyes fall half-lidded as Fabius hums in quiet contemplation. Make a deal with a mysterious witch for his chirurgeon, make a deal with Lucius to purchase what he needs, and what more does he get back? His wrinkled brow furrows a fraction, a twitch that's barely noticeable. He wonders once more how Lucius had come into his new form, and if there are any defining reasons behind it. What would that mean for his own form, and what if he were to lose his ability to operate because of it?

It's a thought he doesn't wish to put any significance towards, yet it lingers, seething in the back of his mind. Millennia spent working towards something only for a capricious god to take it all away. Lucius must have been feeling frustrated too, considering he no longer has the martial glory he once held.]

Look at you, making deals like you have much of a choice in this. [That sickly face splits even wider with a diabolical smile,] the only leverage you have is the sword at your hip, and you've already made the mistake of telling me I'll come back if I'm struck down.

[Suddenly Fabius steps forward, though it isn't with threatening intent. Instead, he reaches out to grasp Lucius' chin between cold, skeletal fingers. His gaze catches those golden cat-eyes, and it's with the sick curiosity of a scientist with a lab-rat.] You'll have all the elixirs you could wish for if you helped me, but that won't save you for my operating table, Lucius. I have a keen interest in picking you apart and learning every little inch.

[ In many ways, the tail that swings at his hip isn't unlike the daemonic lash that had once been a part of his very body. Perhaps that is why Lucius takes so easily to using it as a weapon, in a way he had not with fang and claw. In an instant, it has both reared back and struck, the stinger of its prominent, hairy bulb sinking itself into the flesh of Fabius' gut.

Lucius shoves Fabius away, but that is merely because he doesn't wish to feel those fingers on his skin for a second longer than is necessary. The venom in his tail is certainly strong enough to crumple a weak, frail, mortal old man, and Fabius has doubtlessly begun to feel its effects before his body has even hit the sand below them, searing nerve pain blooming from the point of impact as it seeks out to infect every inch of him. By the time it reaches his limbs, he'll find the muscles there beginning to lock, too.

Lucius steps forward, standing over Fabius in grinning delight where he has pushed him to the dirt, and haloed by city lights in the distance, the details of his face blur away, leaving behind nothing but shining teeth and gleaming cat's eyes. ]

It's true that you'll return should you be killed, brother — but I never said it was without cost. [ Lucius steps around his body, until he stands at the crest of his skull. That grinning face drops closer as Lucius falls into a crouch, and then one of his clawed hands comes forth, drumming the pads of its fingertips against Fabius' forehead. ] Memory, Fabius — you'll be stripped away, bit by bit, until nothing of the man named Fabius Bile remains. I wonder, [ he says, and suddenly, there is a laugh in his voice ] how many deaths will it take before you begin to forget those dear experiments you've learned so much from? Maybe you'll finally become the toothless, doddering old man you appear to be, once you die enough times to my blade.

[There was a time when even the wretched apothecary named Fabius Bile was a soldier too. A man of science first, yes, but Astartes all the same. Yet millennia spent bent over a med slab by preference has left him weakened, and reliance on the chirurgeon of his own design meant that when that monstrous tail lashes at him, there is no resistance. Sharp pain pierces through his gut and he feels his body, old and decrepit as it is, react on a biological level. His muscles tense as his brain commands adrenaline through his blood stream, his breath quickening as his amygdala entered its most primal state: fight or flight.

Yet, there is no fight to be had, and there is no flight to be taken as the venom creeps through his body like rot. His muscles seize throughout his limbs, the pain unbearable as his gaunt jaw is held open in a soundless scream. In this impotent form, all Fabius can do as his back hits the sand with a wet slap, is feel.

And oh, how good it felt.

A scientist never shuns a new experience, and while the pain gifted to him by Lucius' venom burns through his aorta, all he can imagine is extracting a sample to study. He can feel the way it travels through his arteries, through his veins, his capillaries, and even his heart as it desperately pumps quicker to accommodate the stress his body is going through. When finally, his mind focuses through the pain long enough to register Lucius' face above his own, he gives the man a breathy laugh.

It's the first sound he's made since being stung, and the grin that spreads across his face is maniacal. It hurt, yes, but nothing would be more painful than the years of Blight he has endured.]

You won't— [He rasps, the pain tightening his vocal cords,] you know I'm better, in tact and in your pocket...

[A breath is drawn in, a pathetic wheeze of a sound as his diaphragm feels far more heavy and labored than it should,] and you are not one to get rid of toys easily...

Indeed, you would be more valuable under my thumb than you would be dead. Unfortunately, I'm not naive enough to believe your loyalty belongs to anyone but yourself.

[ Lucius straighten from his crouch, so that he looms over Fabius' fallen body once more. He glances out toward the sea, and inclines his head in a show of contemplation. ]

I wonder, is the tide coming in or out? I don't spend much time on the beach, so I wouldn't know. [ He turns his face back toward Fabius again, his smile sharp and malicious as he muses, ] You know, I've yet to let a man to live long enough that my venom washes from his system. I'm unsure how long it would take. It'll be interesting to see if it wears off before the waves cover your head.

[ Don't tell him what he will or won't do, Fabius. ]

[Panting breath hisses through Fabius' clenched teeth as pain etches into numbness, and the seizing of his muscles crawls into those of his neck and jaw, along with Lucius' venom. His eyelids flutter, pain blaring hot and throbbing through his head. Every nerve feels as if it's on fire, screaming signals of danger through his synapses.]

We have that in common— [Fabius huffs, and desperately claws at the sand with what little motion is left available to his bony fingers.]

You forget who brought you back—when Sharrowkyn's blades ended you—

[He knows that there is no pity for him within Lucius' heart, and yet, it's pride that urges him to keep fighting even within the confines of a losing battle.]

So long as our understanding of the situation is mutual.

[ Lucius bends forward. The mocking grin on his face dims, and the clawed fingers of his hand wrap themselves around Fabius' throat. In the next second, he is hauled up out of the sand by that grip, and then Lucius tosses him ungently up the beach.

With the venom locking his muscles, there isn't much Fabius is likely able to do about softening his landing—but, then, it isn't a throw meant to truly hurt. It carries Fabius past the line of high tide, and with that threat withdrawn, Lucius appears in his line of sight again seconds later, wearing a self-satisfied smile on his face. ]

Now, to get back to the point at hand — I was making a business proposition, you know. I don't imagine you care about living in the lap of luxury, but even so, we all need some way to keep the lights on.

[Tenuous as it is, an allegiance would be beneficial, especially when it's with one of the greatest swordsmen of the 41st millennium. Not that Fabius would ever openly admit such a thing, it is enough to have him keep from barking a retort, as if the hand around his throat isn't. He's not quite sure just how fragile this new body is, though his answer is quickly received when he hits the sand with a wet slap. It's compact beneath him, and even with as gentle a toss as Lucius can manage, he can feel his old bone groan from the impact.

Nothing broken is good at least.

Fabius tries to relax against that neurotoxin coursing through his body, and manages to push a sigh through his laboring lungs.]

I thought your only business was in carving up bodies? [He wheezes out, as he tries his damnedest to keep his fingers wiggling against paralysis. If he can keep his muscles from completely seizing, perhaps he can coax this venom through his system faster.] And you and I have very different viewpoints on the way we carve those bodies up.

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TEST DRIVE MEME: SEPTEMBER

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

evil......... bad........

: )

old man down

this is elder abuse

It really is, look at him, he's dying

he deserves it

Do I hear the Breaking Bad Themesong?