graveyardsmash | TEST DRIVE MEME: SEPTEMBER

Beach. [1]

[ Those that scour the beach -- whether they are a new arrival, or a monster passing by -- may spot a small figure fast walking along the water’s edge. The figure freezes to whip his head towards those who may approach him. Donning a large cap with goggles and an oversized coat that drags behind him, Offmon would bring his hands up to his mouth and withdraw from those that come close to him, as if staying quiet and looking as small as possible would keep him from getting spotted.

Tough luck there, kid. But with nowhere to hide, this is all that the skittish boy can do. ]

Alone…? [2A]

[[ Spoilers for Digimon Universe App Monsters. ]]

[ Eventually Offmon is able to get himself a laptop issued by Liewen Laboratories… as well as several pamphlets detailing some pretty terrifying things to come. He wishes he could ignore the things those pamphlets said, write them all off as scary stories that mean people liked to tell, but...

It wasn’t as if this would be the first time Offmon heard these sorts of things that struck close to home.

This would’t be the first time that Offmon would become a destructive monster.

Without Yujin, he has no idea how he was going to bear with this all over again.

Offmon could be spotted as a ball of oversized clothing huddled between the space of two shops, a humble stack of pamphlets set beside him and his lunar blue laptop in front of him. The boy’s sleeved hands are on his knees as he stares at the screen, looking more and more as if he would lose hope as the minutes tick by. ]

Ruh roh. [2B]

[ … But his solitude doesn’t last for long.

Monsters have been met with less than favorable locals as of late, and an especially rowdy gathering of adults have taken to grabbing pitchforks and torches against Offmon. The terrified boy sprints down the streets, clutching his laptop tight to his chest with the angry townsfolk at his heels. In his mad dash away from his pursuers he trips, and though he scrambles to get back on his feet, the adults were gaining on him fast.

He frantically looks around until his eye locks onto someone else, eyes wide and afraid. His voice gets trapped in his throat, but eventually he squeaks out: ]

Help me…!

< OFFMON > (Werewolf!Offmon) [3]

[[ Spoilers for Digimon Universe App Monsters. ]]

I don’t want to hurt anyone.
I don’t want to be a scary monster.
I can’t stop feeling hungry.
I’m scared.
[ So says a network post from a werewolf, newly transformed. His hands are quaking over his laptop’s keys. ]

Edited 2020-09-11 15:08 (UTC)

Scenario 1: Where am I?

[ Sand-crusted eyes blinked open, and a small, defeated groan escape his lips. He felt as if he had fell through yet another Cauldron and through the hell of the Boundary, and yet... there was no lingering sensation of power. No sensation of regaining shape after being torn apart. Just the water in his ears and the sand against his back. As soon as he opens his eyes, he's met with a shotgun pointed straight at his forehead by someone he's never met. ]

Uh..... Nice to meet you, too? [ Smooth moves there, Naoto. ]

Scenario 2: Information.

[ Naoto stared blankly at all the pamphlets given to him, spread out all over him. Having only one hand to do anything was much more difficult than it should be, but he didn't dare voice it, unless his prosthetic arm dared to glitch out on him. Sea water and mechanics never mixed well. "Alternatives to Human Flesh"? "How to Deal with Changes"? "Axe Thief Axehounds"? None of it sounded pleasant, but information was information, and Naoto needed all of it. ]

Geez... Monsters, huh?

[ He continued to stare at the pamphlets, but nothing made sense. It didn't help that every local either stared at the stump where his right arm was in sympathy, or just outright glaring at him. He sighs, knowing he'd have to eventually ask someone for help. With a internal pep talk, he called out to the wind in hopes that his prayers were answered. ]

Come on, Naoto, just do it already!-- Uh, hey! S-Sorry to bother you, but... do you think you could help me?

Scenario 4: Bloodedge... kind of. (vampire!Naoto)

vampire. i'm a vampire.
dear lord i'm a vampire.
i didn't ask for this
iwanted to be human
this isn't it
please i wanna be human

[ Buried in multiple blankets in the corner of his room, Raquel nowhere to be found, he cries out through the bright screen of his laptop. ]

Edited 2020-09-11 15:25 (UTC)

scenario a: the beach
[ most sand is made up of silicon dioxide, sloughed off of quartz and broken down by an unforgiving, steady tide. there might be some feldspar or mica, depending on the location and what rocks are prominent. tropical beaches, rocky beaches - they all have different compositions, old recipes that tara knows by heart.

except now, her mouth is full of sand, and all she can discern is the taste. she pushes herself up to sit and spits the gritty saliva-sand mixture to her side. ]

...What the fuck.

[ eloquent.

passerby may notice a small young woman, barely out of her teens, flexing her fingers. staring at the earth. she looks bewildered more than anything. the sand and stone does not mold beneath her fingers as she expects. when she lifts her hand, there is no eerie yellow glow; no rock follows.

tara stands and kicks at the sand. it remains defiant. ]

This is bullshit!

[ she kicks at the sand again. if you didn't know any better, this twenty year-old might be throwing a tantrum. ]

scenario b: some light reading
[ the locals are obviously trying to curry her favor, and tara doesn't like it.

of course, it wouldn't be entirely strategic to spurn their gifts entirely. she has no food, no money, no shelter, in a world that she's not entirely certain isn't born of some c-list supervillain's attempt at a fear toxin. tara has been in worse situations, granted - she always manages to come out on top, or at least okay. but that doesn't mean that she enjoys being given charity.

there's almost always a price. ]

What's in it for you, then?

[ the local - who seems intimidated by her, despite her height and apparent lack of geokinesis - explains again and again. they only want a peaceful existence; they don't want any trouble. they push a pamphlet into her hands and scurry away, leaving tara to pour over the contents of alternatives to human flesh.

weird. ]

I gotta tip my hat to whatever Scarecrow wannabe came up with this. Killer worldbuilding, huh?

c. choose your own adventure!

[ Feel free to make up a prompt of your own - I'm open to anything! ]

Beach. [Prompt 1]

[ Yuzu now has a newfound reason to dislike sand. She didn't have any problems with it before, but suddenly finding it necessary to dump her face into the ocean in order to wash it all out of her mouth was... reason enough. ]

[ Should someone be around, whether a new arrival or someone more used to this place passing by, the pink-haired girl would be a strange sight. She was already soaked, and her current actions were by all means not helping in that regard. It was clear she was new here, though, as evidenced by the seemingly fresh cuts and scrapes she had. To be honest, the seawater was stinging those wounds, but when one has sand in their mouth, it's surprisingly easy to ignore. ]

[ Eventually though, she finishes washing out the tiny grains and falls backward, now sitting on the sand and gasping for breath. ]

Hah... just where did I end up now...?

Where...? [Prompt 2]

[ Yuzu was fortunate. Grateful, even, that her appearance in what seemed like yet another dimension was going a little better than her past experiences, which usually started with being chased by corrupt authoritative figures. ]

[ One thing that was throwing her off, however, were the pamphlets. They were mostly about monsters... specifically, turning into one. She couldn't help but look at this information in general disbelief, and who could blame her? All of the information here seemed pretty far-fetched, but the people seemed genuine... while some seemed wary of her. ]

[ Sure, where she was from, monsters weren't a new concept to her(she rode "monsters" every time she dueled, after all. (Speaking of which, where were her things? All she had was her bracelet). But actually turning into one? ]

[ ...well, it's not like she hasn't seen someone turn into a monster before. Regardless, she'd have to see one to believe it. ]

Edited 2020-09-11 15:50 (UTC)

A → You can't knock me down!

[Katara... when she woke up, she was nervous. Something had happened, and she didn't know what, because no matter how much she searched her memories, the reason for why she had woken up on a dreary beach with scratches all over her just never came to her. She did know, though, that she couldn't stay in that one spot. She needed to figure out where she was and then she could figure out where everyone was.

But honestly, she wasn't quite sure what she was expecting, but it was definitely not a bunch of people pointing guns at her and telling her to freeze, or else they'd shoot on the spot.

So clearly, the correct answer to that sort of thing is to try to waterbend.

It doesn't work, her smooth, fluid movements produce nothing and she can feel some panic starting to sink in.]

Oh no, wait, maybe we can talk before you do anything!?

B → I'M COMPLETELY CALM!!!

[No matter how she gets out of the harrowing adventure on the beach, Katara can feel the panic rising even as she tries to keep it together in town. She keeps having pamphlets thrown at her, and while she takes her time to meticulously read every single one... it just sounds so unbelievable. She doesn't even know where to start, even as she keeps shoving the pamphlets into a bag someone had given her at... some point.]

Okay, Katara. [She breathes out, trying to clear her head.] Just... breathe. In and out. You're going to figure out what's going on and get out of here find everyone... and maybe you'll find out it was some kind of elaborate joke and everything's actually okay!

C → Tearbending

[It's been a month since her arrival, and when the fog rolls in, she's waiting with baited breath. The inevitable is coming, isn't it? That's why she at least made sure to be somewhere safe instead of wandering around the moment it hits.

And when it does, it does. Her chest aches, a sharp pain erupting, and she can feel her breath catching. She lifts a hand to cover her chest, leaning over and bracing herself against the couch that she'd been sitting on, as she feels the hot warmth of tears coming to her eyes. It feels like ages, but she manages to choke out what she wants to say to whoever is with her—]

Help—

Edited 2020-09-11 16:02 (UTC)

Scenario 1: Arrival

"Oh! Oh! Cold!"

Tahani comes to coughing and spluttering on the lakeshore, couture frock absolutely soaked. She immediately picks herself up and brushes herself off.

"Is this...am I alive? In Switzerland? No, can't be, far too few chalets. Jason? Chidi? Elanor?"

Scenario 2: Sightseeing

Tahini is not used to being glared at. She responds with a brave smile, then with dignified silence. Eventually she allows herself to go look at the pamphlet stall (like a vulgar tourist!) and talk to the owner.

"Yes, interesting folklore. Very charming local colour, but I wonder if you could clarify some small points: where is Ryslig, actually? And how does one find people that might have been misplaced?"

Network

We "monsters" have so much. I personally have been given so much since I got here, strangely. (Strangely since usually I'm the one performing acts of charity, ofttimes with my godmother Dame Maggie Smith.) I wonder if there are any agencies set up to help the humans as well. Maybe a properly catered benefit would create good will, raise consciousness. I'm thinking back to my anti-poaching efforts in Africa which may have single handedly saved the white rhino! What fun.

Anyhow, if anyone who has a space for an event would speak up that gracious offer would be appreciated. Ta!

Private Video to [friend] [Accidentally public]
Please help.
This is the most disgusting thing that ever happened to me. The most disgusting thing I! Tahani Al-Jamil have ever eaten -And I ate a cheeto once! I don't eat people! I'm a humanitarian, not a serial murderer! (Though I suppose I am still a humanitarian, in a sense...)

Tell me how you cope. Please.

Edited 2020-09-11 16:04 (UTC)

i.

[When did he pass out? He doesn't remember.

Wen Ning sits up abruptly on the beach, looking this way and that for signs of anyone familiar - or anyone at all. There's no sign of the boy he'd just been walking with, and the terrain isn't like any local place he's ever been to.

Is this the ocean? He's never even seen salt water. How had he been taken this far out?]

A-Yuan? [He finally calls out for his travelling companion. Then, after a pause, he tries a second name.] ...Young Master Wei?

[He stands with a wince, glancing down at the bandage over his left hand that's been soaked and covered in sand. He'll need to rewrap it soon. Lights in the distance mean a town of some sort, so he's sure to find something there. He pulls at the top of his robes in a futile attempt to cover some of the black lines crawling up his neck, then sets off in that direction.]

ii.

[Wen Ning is used to getting uncomfortable glances from people. He isn't used to them shoving things in his direction. Someone has given him a basket of baked goods, most of which he's never seen before, that he's quite sure it would take him at least a week to eat all of.

People have always been afraid of the "Ghost General", but rarely has anyone worried that he was going to eat them. (It's not that he hasn't heard this concern - it's just rare.)

Setting the basket aside, the pale man begins flipping through the pamphlets curiously. (How were these made? The writing is all so uniform and perfect.) There are so many words he isn't even familiar with, which goes along with this town and its strange technology.]

Excuse me... [He might ask one of the monsterish looking creatures that seem to mingle with the rest of the crowd without issue.] Are you... one of these? [And he'll hold up one of the very unflattering drawings in the provided pamphlets.]

network.

[After some time of having to figure out what a computer even is...]

My tear ducts are working.

Is this what's supposed to happen?

wildcard.

[Want another scenario? Toss it at me!]

Edited 2020-09-11 16:25 (UTC)

Scene One
[Now waking up with scratches and bruises? Not anything new for Chara, it's the sudden change in location that has the child a bit more confused. This isn't the small "field" of flowers they would normally wake up in after a reset.

So it's with curiosity, and just the smallest bit of annoyance, that they can be found wandering the beach.

Or maybe they're found at the barrel end of a local's shotgun. In that case, the kid is trying to not laugh and can be heard saying;]

Are you really gonna shoot a kid? For real?

Scene Two
Turning into a monster huh? Sounds cool.

[Was all Chara had to say on the subject of the pamphlets, and they were doing their best to either ignore the overly friendly locals or outright dodge them.

Heck, they may try to do something that is, in the long run a bad idea. Which is RESET, and one may find a frustrated kid in a green striped sweater and brown pants looking like someone just shot their dog. Or maybe saying some very adult words under their breath, either way if one catches them after an attempt better give them space.]

Scene 3 - Network - Username: FallChld
Holy crap, these things are older than what gets washed up in the underground. How do any of you guys even handle this?

It's like, even older than the tech that was around when I died. And that was like a hundred years ago.

Wildcard
[Don't like any of these? Toss one at me or HMU at

pornfetti]

Scenario 1 - Across the Badlands

[It's not the first time Race has been shipwrecked, or capsized, or tossed overboard, and it probably won't be the last. It is the first time he's ever dragged himself out of the water without having any idea how he got in the drink in the first place, but considering the sort of life he leads, it was bound to happen someday.]

[Race pushes himself to his feet, takes a minute to check himself over to make sure the cold isn't masking any bleeds - he's got a few nicks here and there, but nothing that needs worrying about quite yet.]

[Once he's reasonably sure he's not actively dying, Race jumps into his next most immediate priority: he starts looking for the boys.]

Jonny! Hadji!

[He has no idea if the kids were even with him when whatever happened happened, but he's gonna play it safe and assume they were.]

--Doc!

[His eyes scan the beach, before tentatively drifting towards the ocean. He doesn't see anyone floating out there, and he's not sure if that's a good or bad thing just yet.]

Scenario 2 - Fast on the Draw (cw: gun violence, shotgun injury)

[Race has had quiet enough of the local hospitality for one day, thank you muchly. Between the crazies with their pamphlets to the wackjobs with their guns, he's gone from feeling overly-welcomed to having overstayed his welcome fast enough to make his head spin.]

[The one upside to having ventured into town is that he's got himself a weapon now. He'd prefer a rifle to a shotgun, but then, he also would have preferred not to have been shot ten minutes ago.]

[It's a good thing he's already wearing a red shirt, even better that the nutjob that shot him had loaded up his shells with rock-salt - apparently salt 'hurts demons,' whatever the hell that means. Never-mind the fact that rock salt hurts goddamn everybody when you shoot them with it.]

[But then, Race supposes he can't be too mad - sure, his flank's peppered with pockmarks and the salt burns something awful, but he's not dead and now he's got a weapon to help keep himself that way, so all in all, it's a net positive.]

[Of course, having already had a attempt made on his life has made Race a little jumpy - especially around the strange, costumed freaks parading around like Halloween's come early. The more visibly monstrous folks might just find themselves staring down the business end of a shotgun if they get too close, or make the mistake of trying to approach him from behind.]

--Alright fella, that's close enough. Unless you want a taste of lead I suggest you turn yourself around and get marching.

Edited 2020-09-11 20:24 (UTC)

Scenario 1

[Did she pass out? Did she die? The salty, ocean air is the first thing that she notices when her eyes flutter open, and she immediately knows that she isn't where she's meant to be. She coughs violently, tasting sand in her mouth, and the pain that suddenly hits her makes her gasp in agony. It isn't just the scratches and scrapes on her skin - it's everything. It's her leg, which may be broken, and her back after being thrown from a balcony. It was a small miracle that she was alive at all. The fact that she was able to move at all was nothing short of impressive, but Edith had been determined to survive. An andrenaline rush had taken her over, aiding her.

She remembers Thomas. She remembers Lucille, brandishing a weapon while running after her in the fog. The woman's howls and screams of rage will be difficult to forget.]

Where am I? [Her voice is cracked. She grabs at a fallen branch - it makes for a perfect walking cane, and she uses it for support as she tries to pick herself up. To say she's struggling would be an understatement. Long, golden hair clings to her face, soaked with water and tinged with blood. Her nightgown is also coated with blood.]

Alan?! [She calls -- her voice is louder now. There's fear in her voice, but there's also determination.]

Alan, are you there? [Please let him be there.]

Scenario Two

[The townsfolk, so far, have been nothing but kind and sweet. She's looking much better than she did on the beach -- her leg is bandaged up, and someone was kind enough to give her a cane to walk with. But their kindness makes her uncomfortable -- she's uncomfortable taking food and drinks from strangers, and will only do so if they eat it too. They're too friendly, she thinks. Something feels terribly wrong. She doesn't know what it is, yet, but the unease is there. It turns her stomach upside down.

She's outside, and a group of locals are surrounding her. One of them gives her some fruit, which she accepts. But when someone offers her tea, her chest tightens and she pushes it away immediately, her thoughts returning to Allerdale Hall. Lucille. Thomas. The cup clatters on the saucer, but the liquid doesn't spill out. Thankfully.]

I'm... I apologise. [She looks at the local; the elderly woman continues to smile, seemingly unphased.]

I don't drink tea. I can't. But your hospitality is appreciated.

🐾 one;

[Waking up drenched on a beach and covered in sand was... Not actually that outrageously hard to wrap his mind around. He'd certainly been in similarly bizarre situations before, the weirdest part about this one being he couldn't remember what kind of inane bullshit had gotten him there. Usually there was a pretty straightforward "we did something dumb and got blown to the moon" trajectory for these sorts of things.]

[So he's maybe a little less than appropriately concerned as he sits up and eventually stands up, dusting off his waterlogged clothes ineffectively and grimacing at the sand literally all over his person. He'd have to let the water dry before it'd really go anywhere...]

[His attention turns to anyone else on the beach with him, but he only provides a deadpan expression. After what is definitely too long to stare at a person without saying anything, he raises one hand in something resembling a wave.]

🐾 two;

[These pamphlets are actually pretty fucking hilarious, as far as Ichimatsu is concerned. Not that you can tell from the way his facial expression stays constantly blank or annoyed, eyes half-closed and stumpy little eyebrows always staying in the same place unless he read something confusing or stupid. He's sitting on the ground outside a shop wherein the keeper bombarded him with information and the pamphlets, a neat stack of them on either side of him as he flips through them with varying interest.]

So is "Alternatives to Human Flesh" The Vegan Option, or am I misunderstanding something?

[1- Life's a Beach]

Virgil does not like being wet. He does not like being soaked, unable to fly, the scales washed off his wings rendering him unable to fly, the sand in all the little crevices of his carapace. It's going to be a pain getting that out of him.

But why? Why even ask that anymore, he could have just drowned- well. He doesn't know why.

The faerie drags himself up, wringing out his limp wet hair and... there's other people here. His antennae twitch, rubbing his throat uncomfortably, preparing to slink off with his wet hair into the forest. That is, until he finds himself with his hands raised, unable to fly away, a Ryslig native shoving his shotgun into the faerie's chest.

"Hey, pal, okay, uh- look-"

[3- Finally called]

Virgil does not have an interest in the gods. He has never approached, addressed, or prayed to either one; it's not even intentional, he just doesn't actually care about religion the same way he didn't at home. And yet... there's the voice.

The fourth god especially didn't appeal to him typically, just on concept, but then-

He finds himself in the arcade, pink hair catching blacklight glow, watching the little machines wheel about and he grins. Oh, oh boy-

He's trying to smuggle one out in his coat, beeping in distress and frustration.

1. ARRIVAL: he'll appear out of nowhere but he ain't what he seems
Paul can't remember the last time he was at a beach. Port Haven, most likely, he thinks, decades ago. So the sand between his splayed fingers as he opens his eyes is a most unwelcome puzzle. He'd expected to wake up on the couch where he'd fallen asleep reading ... not whatever or wherever this is.

He moves to stand, but his left ankle buckles with a sudden surge of pain. He groans, grinding his teeth, and just manages to catch himself before faceplanting into the beach. After a few moments to catch his breath and let the last echoes of the agony pass, he tries again, favoring his better foot this time, and manages to get all six feet and four inches of himself upright. He squints into the sunlight, and there are deep circles under his eyes as he surveys the beach. It doesn't look a lick like Port Haven. Or Mystic. Or anywhere in Connecticut, really. But he can see buildings on the horizon, over the embankment covered in rocks and brittle grass. Nothing for it but to limp forward, dragging his bad leg through the sand...

2. PAMPERING PAMPHLETS: to extend this small favor, friend, would be the sum of earthly bliss
By this point, the doctor has managed to secure a cup of coffee, a chicken salad sandwich, and a passable cane, which he's left leaning against the side of the armchair he's sitting in. His long legs are curled under the chair as much as permissable, so as not to trip anyone walking past, and his dress slacks are still lightly dusted with sand. He's rolled the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms, and the ring of greying brown hair at his temples is slightly disheveled. He has the pamplets spread out in a precise fan along the arm of the chair, half his sandwich in one hand as he gives a copy of "Lich It Or Not, You're The Living Dead" his full attention.

That is not to say that he completely takes anything in the pamphlets as gospel: after all, they could at least have realized that the pun doesn't work because of the pronunciation. Amateurs. He licks his lips as he flips the pamphlet over, and notices someone nearby out of the corner of his vision.

"I don't suppose you have any opinions on all this...?"

WILDCARD: off to the asylum in an old black mariah
Whatever you like! He's a psychologist, a Magnificent Bastard, and actually pretty friendly for a power-hungry madman. OC info here! If you want to hit me up on Plurk for plotting or questions, feel free! I'm over at

hopepunk.

2. Fun Pamphlet Hours

[Kafei had made a habit of sneaking around, so he figured he was simply getting really good at it when he managed to escape the beach unscathed and all the way to Bavan of all places. ...No need to ask how. Unrelated, buses are terrifying.

That theory was sort of...thrown out the window when he started getting bombarded with pamphlets and food, acting as if somehow the kid in the weird clothes and bright yellow fox mask wouldn't stand out at all. It's weird, right? Everything about this place is weird, in fact. The fog is so thick, he can't even see the moon, which he imagines would still be visible despite how far removed he appears to be from his own town. And for a place that seems to suggest it has such a HUGE monster problem, there doesn't appear to be any walls, or guards, or really anything to deal with them.

Someone needs to have a very serious talk with their mayor.

Although the more he reads the handouts, the more it becomes apparent he's going to become apart of this monster problem, and despite his face being covered, it's easy to see just how hard this hits him by the way his posture simply deflates.]

Oh... I'm sure I deserve this somehow...

[Life sure has been unusually cruel lately. If it's not one thing, it's another.]

4. Night of the Were~~wolf~~keaton

[By now, Kafei has been here long enough where he can only assume the worst. Too many days have gone by that it'd be foolish to assume the moon didn't just destroy everything he knows and loves, it's not like anyone was working on that or anything. ...As far as he knows. So the past month he's found himself just incredibly numb and waiting the inevitable.

A good amount of changes hit him all at once, yellow fur covers his body as his ears become long and canid. Hands become clawed paws while his face becomes muzzled and looks like something ~~only a furry could love~~ much like a fox. The most striking feature would be the three, long fluffy black-tipped tails, the signature look of a keaton.]

Well this feels redundant now.

[There's really no need to wear a mask now, although Kafei can't help but feel like there never really was a point if there wasn't anyone to recognize him in the first place... Maybe it just felt comfortable, who knows. He's really bothered more by the fact that he doesn't really...feel like a monster. Keatons aren't known for being dangerous.

Although out in the more emptier streets of Bavan, the citizens do put on a good enough show to make him feel unwanted. Were some of these places always barred up or...?]

Strange, I don't feel like I'd want to eat anyone...

[Haha, wouldn't it be nice if he got lucky and somehow bypassed the whole people-eating thing, and it definitely wasn't wishful thinking??

Who is he kidding, his luck's never been that good.]

Wildcard

[I'm good with other prompt ideas if you have them, or you can hit me over on

Gesomon.]

(This is just an indulgent opportunity to play Link! i'll be glad to help you get samples but don't worry too much about getting me mine if you get bored/i get slow

Also a Gargoyle reference just for fun

SCENARIO 4 (cw: transformation, light gore, fire & perceived immolation)

[All of this talk of turning into a monster hasn't stopped Link from exploring Bavan daily, getting himself acquainted with the town and all it would seem he needs to do. He's got to get acquainted with new ways to keep his health up, after all, and an increasing appetite means paying visits to the Bavan businesses.

That does mean he's left more and more opportunity for the transformation to hit him out in public, which is exactly what happens. He's just taking a normal walk when he notices just how thick the fog is, and for some reason, everything begins to feel really warm.

In a flash, Link's eyes glow bright yellow, stopping him mid-walk in surprise at the accompanying sensation. He looks from hand to hand in confusion, trying to find the source of the heat on him, inspecting his legs then his back-- it's his back! His back is burning, and Link, grunting in pain, doubles over as what appear to be masts rip out of his back, green and straight. They then seem to snap in several places, bending and curving, as Link starts to yell. That yelling is taken over by coughing, while Link grasps at his throat-- coughing that quickly turns into spurts of fire.

All of a sudden the flames surround Link, but just for a moment. As soon as the moment passes, the fire fades and Link is left there on the ground, simply unconscious, covered by pink-tinged wings that look like ship sails. It would seem the rest of his body, aside from his eyes, is yet unaffected apart from a long red tail with hooked spikes on the end.

It doesn't take long before Link rouses himself and looks around. If he had the presence of mind to be, he might be embarrassed that he kind of near-died in front of everyone, but... something smells smokey.

What smells like smoke? Link looks from side to side for a moment, sniffing the air and looking around-- oh.

--Oh, it's him! He's still on fire!

Link starts to run around, patting his newly be-tailed butt in attempts to put out the flames on the back of his shirt. Hopefully he, uh, won't run into you? Maybe help the kid out.]

Edited 2020-09-15 09:13 (UTC)

[I. Beach Arrival]

[There’s no need to really comment on how much waking up on the beach sucked. It was dirty, hot, muggy, and unfamiliar and those were the complaints not taking into account that Piers really just didn’t care for the beach to begin with.]

[On top of waking up hot and alone, he was covered in alien scrapes and cuts that stung like a bitch, he was missing most of his belongings, his pokemon team was gone, and his hair was an absolute matted disaster.]

[That’s right, anyone walking along the beach to see what had washed up will be treated with the sight of a ...pale, thin, gaunt looking man with impossibly thick, matted black and white hair well past his waist, dressed in a damaged white leather jacket and hot pink biker shorts. He looks like he probably hasn’t slept in a decade.]

Oi, what’re you lookin’ at? Take a picture and it’ll bloody last longer.

[You could honestly mistake him for some starved looking monster and you wouldn’t have to feel bad about it.]

[II. Everyone’s a Critic]

[Piers had to come to terms with a lot of things very quickly. He was alone, he was lost, he didn’t have his team, and he didn’t have a pokedollar to his name. The people here were weird, the monsters weirder, and no matter how much of that set him on edge, he had to sort his shit out quick or he was going to be in trouble.]

[The only thing Piers had in his arsenal was his voice, so that is what he sought out for work. He eventually lands a few gigs here and there singing in seedy dive bars. The music here wasn’t up to speed with what Piers usually sang, but he was adaptable in the right circumstances and he had the range to sing what could pay the bills until he had his feet under him. He could work on introducing punk proper to these folks once he had a place to sleep.]

[Of course, the massive wrench in his plans came in the form of an angry mob breaking down the doors to the bar. Someone helpfully screams that its a monster raid and chaos erupts. There are monsters in the audience, sure, but some of them hone right in on Piers on stage and beeline for him.]

[Piers is ...nimble in the right circumstances, and dodging someone’s aimed shotgun just happens to be that circumstance. He throws himself off the stage in time to not get his head blown off and makes for the chaos of the crowd.]

I’m not gettin’ paid enough for this trubbish!

[III. Monster Mash, Harpy Edition.]

Bollocks.

[That is ...a relatively underwhelmed reaction one might have to the first sight of a monster transformation, but honestly the past month has been a wild fucking ride from start to finish for him. He at least expected this to happen, so he regards the sight of his nails turning black, hardening, with morbid curiosity until the pain starts.]

[It was fine, he would just go find somewhere private to go deal with this, like a litten hiding an injury. Pay no mind to that dark alley way making choked pained noises followed by the occasional sound of bones cracking.]

[He’s easy to find, at least, leaving a trail of molted white and black feathers in his wake.]

i.

[A boy washes up on the beach, his wild maroon hair full of seaweed and sand, cuts and bruises paint his face and limbs here and there, and his chest rises and falls softly as he lays with his arms spread at his sides on his back. Face up towards the beating sun.

...honestly, who knows how long he's been there. He isn't moving, not even a stir as he peacefully(?) sleeps on the sand, completely unaware of the fact that he's been transported to a different world entirely. A small crab scuttles towards him, bumping into his hand and in retaliation it pinches one of it's big claws onto his thumb.. and gets no reaction. A seagull lands on his chest and picks at the seaweed in his hair. Still.. no reaction.

He may be dead, actually. Or if he isn't now, he soon will be with the tide getting higher, washing over his legs every now and then. The sight of an unmoving body most likely piques curiousity, so go ahead and check it out. He's not actually dead, luckily, just.

The world's heaviest sleeper. Good luck trying to get this one up.]

ii.

[One way or another, Appare has made it to town. And for someone who comes from the 1880's.. it's a hell of a lot to take in.

The first thing that caught his eye when he walked downtown were the streetlights. He found himself wandering while looking up the entire time, excited to see them get lighter as the sun set behind the buildings. The buildings themselves were impressive, too. It was obvious just by looking that he was in America-- it was similar to Los Angeles, but very different all the same.

After marveling at the city lights, he finds himself standing in front of an electronic store. A wall of TVs stand right behind the glass, playing different advertisements on each screen. The most he has ever seen in regards to anything like this are coloured photos, but to see them moving with sound? Where was it even coming from?

He wanted to dissect them so bad, but the store was closed. So... he does what he's always done best.

And gets to lockpicking the front door.]

I. We're not in the Eye anymore.

[Blackness is a constant any astartes will come to know, especially at the jaws of death. Fabius had been a man who lived his life spitting in the face of it, and always found purpose and appeal in pushing the limitations of life instead. Since the beginning of his own, on Terra, where as a young child he found beauty in the edges where life could be expanded, he has been on an endless hunt for its perfection.

Black emptiness had other plans it seems. Perhaps he had underestimated the time left within his current body, and the Blight had taken it far faster than he anticipated. Surely he must be dead, surely, and yet...

Pain flares up his limbs, aching muscle and joints only made worse by the hot stings of cuts against his epidermis. It's almost a foreign feeling, this pain. It's as if his flesh had been lined with fresh nerves, and for a moment, he imagines that his brain has been transferred to a new body of cloned meat. It isn't until the sound of lulling waves fills his ears that the thought is chased away.

With a slowness he isn't used to, his body moves. It feels lethargic, and reminiscent of the bumbling vat-born he would have had culled for their lack of use. He manages to sit himself up, eyes stiff to pry open, with sand and fluid gumming them. His tongue chases the tastes of sand and salt, his nose, once dulled by the ever-potent scents of various embalming fluids, ichors, and rotting flesh, inhales air as if he's a newborn desperate for its birth-cry.

There's a roiling growl in his throat, as his tongue curiously licks at his thin lips. Perhaps he had been mutinied by his legion? No, that would not make sense. For one, his precious chirurgeon would have protected him; and for another, if he had been conspired against, he surely would have been dead.

So that begged the question: what foreign rock had he landed upon?]

First time beach [1]

[ Shirou's head hurt. Actually, a lot of things hurt, but the pounding in his head was far more prominent than whatever minor wounds he for some reason had.

Eventually, though, he manages to stand himself up to analyze his surroundings. Shirou could say with confidence that this... wasn't Fuyuki. Sure, Fuyuki had a beach (not that Shirou had ever gone to it, though he had gone to the pier occasionally), but the overall surroundings felt... different.

It felt even more different when he suddenly had the barrel of a shotgun pointed at him. His initial reaction was to try and calm the aggressor down... however to no avail. His second solution was to defend himself.

Unfortunately, to no avail. He tried to use projection only to feel an evident lack of magic circuits, which were similar to nerves, and therefore a rather surreal experience. It was like trying to move an extra limb that you know is there, only to realize that for some reason it isn't.

So, while it definitely wasn't what Shirou considered the manly thing to do, he was without a weapon and facing down a shotgun, so one could now see the red-haired teen running away as fast as he could on the beach. ]

H-hey...! Can't we just talk this out...!?

This definitely isn't Fuyuki... [2]

[ Shirou didn't believe the information he was given until he actually did see a monster. After that heart-stopping moment, Shirou was now staring at the pamphlets with a little more faith.

Shirou was rubbing the back of his head, clearly bewildered. He's been here a few hours now and he's seen a few others in similar states to his own being given the same information, but he hasn't been too keen to ask them anything. Unfortunately, he has yet to spot someone recognizable such as Rin or Saber.

At first he was worried. Rin told him that in order to keep Saber in this world, they'd both have to provide magical energy for her. With him here, he wasn't exactly sure how he'd do that... but judging by the variety of the people he's seen, as well as the information he's managed to glean, time doesn't appear to matter as much here.

So, he figures that he can liken this to the Throne of Heroes. If he can get out, it probably won't matter how much time has passed... at least he hopes.

Another thing that bothered him was the evident lack in his magical abilities. Sure, he was already a complete amateur and nothing compared to Rin, and in the end there was only a single magecraft allowed to him... but still, he would feel more at ease here if he could project his weapons into existence again.

It also made things a little harder when he wondered what he would do for money here. He had always been good at fixing appliances, but he had always used his tracing magecraft in order to get a full blueprint of whatever he was fixing. Well, it's not like he wouldn't be able to fix things anymore... it would just be a lot harder. ]

Changes [3] (Gargoyle)

[ Scales. Shirou was growing scales.

To be honest, if you looked closely, they looked more like miniature steel blades covering his skin. They certainly didn't shine like other Gargoyle scales, and while they weren't actually any different, Shirou at first thought that they were actually made of steel.

Unfortunately not, though, which he discovered after a brief ~~session of testing his own durability~~ day of testing.

Steel is my body...

From what he could tell, Gargoyles were also known for being able to breathe fire. That, of course, would be useful since he still couldn't use his magic.

...and fire is my blood...

All of those were unimportant, however. Shirou still didn't have a solution to the most important and impending problem: he was getting hungry. ]

Guh... g-gah...!

[ ...Really hungry.

Being someone who wants to be a Hero of Justice... he certainly couldn't kill and eat someone.

What... what if he found someone evil? He had heard about poachers before— ]

No...!

Scenario One;

[Connor wakes on the beach with a splutter, and drags himself out of the waves. His limbs feel heavy, the cuts on his lims hurt, and he can't run a diagnostic. His LED shines red on his temple, and after a moment Connor pushes himself to his feet, grunting. This isn't Detroit... where is he?]

Hank?

[Wasn't he just with him? Where did he go?]

Hello? Is anyone there?

Scenario Four; Nephilim

[Connor's back has six bumps down it, three on each side. He's concerned, but he still doesn't know what to expect... his best guess is that they're wings, given what he's learned about this place. Well, he isn't wrong.

They burst free of his back as he's outside, get stuck on his shirt, and Connor feels more and more pressure and pain as they grow with no room to manoeuvre. Gasping, he hurriedly starts to strip free of his shirt as blue blood oozes down his back, and the skeletal beginnings of six wings stretch out behind him. Unused to actual pain, Connor crumples to his knees and groans, with white feathers slowly sprouting from his new wings. As the feathers get closer to the ends, however, they become a soft baby blue at the tips. Strange patterns pulse a brighter blue from the base of his wings outwards.

Connor doesn't stand up again even after they're done growing. He just stays where he is, shaking slightly, wondering if it's over yet. Eventually he struggles, instinctively grabbing the arm of the next person to pass him in order to help himself up.]

...Sorry.

[He looks about ready to faint... and those were only the first changes.]

[Scen. one; The Beach Episode]

[For a fish person, you'd think washing up on the beach would be normal? But not for Undyne. It's left her sputtering as she lifts herself up onto her hands, coughing up sand and water and salt.
Truthfully, she isn't exactly a fish person, right now - she's hardly even a monster anymore. Just a blue-skinned human with big, golden shark teeth... no scales, no fins, nothing.

And as someone approaches her, she finds she doesn't have her spears, either. An attempt to summon one just leaves her standing in a strange pose for a second, hand outstretched as she realizes it's not coming.]

... You. What did you do!?

[Clearly it's your fault she has no access to her magic, right? Surely there isn't any other option! Hopefully, whoever is standing in front of her has fast reflexes -
Because unless she recognizes whoever she's running at, she's running right up to grab at a collar, a wrist, a shoulder, whatever's in reach to be grabbed.]

[Scen. two: Bad Brochures]

Axe thief axehounds... Bunnyipyips... fur-bearing trout!? All these monsters sound lame!

[That's said as Undyne outright slamdunks a stack of pamphlets into a street trashcan before jamming her hand back in her pocket, snarling to herself as she's forced to walk around with all these... humans.
Sure, some humans are okay - but that doesn't mean they ALL are, and it's clear she's none too fond of them. It's hard to tell what makes a human "good" after all - it took the human in the Underground a lot of time to convince her. And a lot of destruction.
But all of these humans are pretty keen to just avoid her, not even offering her much help like they do the other, quieter arrivals...

So when Undyne spots someone who looks more helpful - be it a monster or a "newbie" like herself - she's quick to hold a hand out to stop them with the usual toothy sneer on her face.]

What've you been reading about all this? All I've read is a buttload of misinformation - is this just some kind of big smear campaign against monsterkind or something!?

[Scen. four: It's Time] (cw: death, decay, general lich themes)

[Time for what? Well, changes, of course. They came on so suddenly that Undyne can just barely duck into an alleyway in time, clutching her chest as a weird pain rushes through her with her heart at its epicenter. Blue skin sloughs off in some places, replaced with a rippling, glowing energy, while other places start to crumble to a fog of painfully familiar sort dust - permanently.
It's just an effect, it seems... her wrists are the ones that do it most, disconnected from the rest of her arms and permanently billowing dust into the wind.

By the time someone manages to wander by, they're likely going to be stopped by a splatter of flesh and blood spreading out onto the sidewalk as she discards the parts her new form apparently doesn't need anymore -
Her torso's hollow save for some sort of glowing energy in her chest, a glowing, white, upside-down heart peering through her ribcage as she picks herself up.

... And that's when she spots a very unlucky person, whoever's stopped to watch the whole thing, and gives them an awful, blood-filled grin.]

What're you looking at...!? You wanna try me after all that?

1

[What happened? He couldn't recall a thing that had happened prior and yet suddenly he found himself ashore on a strange and foreign beach. His mouth tasted salty from the sea and the various injuries he'd gotten were now screaming in agony.]

"What in the bloody hell?"

[He stood up, abet shakily and looked around for any sign of life. He hissed under his breath and the sudden pain. His heart ached and he found himself remembering what he last invisioned. He had pulled out his heart... so why was it still beating happily away in his chest? How in the world was he still alive?"]

2

[It was no surprise why folks seemed unfriendly. He had done terrible things and certainly word had gotten out. But what surprised him more were the people that were being friendly to him. It was a shock and it took him aback. He hardly took notice of the information they were giving him. He had no time to worry about monsters or stuff like that.

Walking through the streets, Oswald felt like a ghost of his former self. And the smiles he got from some of the folk made everything feel otherworldly. He just couldn't understand it.]

4 [Werewolf!Oswald]

[I've finally become what I was always intended to be.
I'm a monster of the most vicious type.
When at one time, I was a monster in human form, now it seems that my true form has been revealed.]

Edited 2020-09-23 00:32 (UTC)

I. ARRIVAL

[ The smell of gunpowder means nothing to Kisame. It's an unknown element, something he's never encountered in over thirty years of life. However, the sight of someone leveling a weapon at him is very recognizable. It doesn't matter that he has no idea what they're wielding. The threat in their stance and the hostility in their eyes is universal.

Kisame feels the absence of his sword before his fingers so much as twitch to reach for it. ]

… Ah, [ he breathes out, his tone remarkably calm. ] This is rather inconvenient…

II. PAMPHLETS AND PITCHFORKS

[ Judgmental stares are nothing new to Kisame. He's an incredibly distinctive man. Blue-gray skin, gill-like markings on his cheekbones, sharp teeth, and a six-foot-five frame all serve to make him stand out. It's an inconvenience for a shinobi, but Kisame has always been far too powerful to be hampered by it.

Yet he can't feel that power here. It's as though his chakra has vanished along with his sword. "Disquieting" doesn't come close to describing it.

Still, he bears the hostile glares without batting an eyelash. He busies himself with pamphlets, sorting through them and trying to determine which ones are helpful and which are nonsense.

When he spots someone who looks similarly not-quite-human, he speaks up. ]

Excuse me. [ Kisame's tone is polite and friendly, even if his gaze — with his nearly white eyes ringed with black — may be a bit unsettling. ] Do you have a moment?

III. WILDCARD

( ooc: come at me with whatever! feel free to hmu by pm if you'd like to plot something specific. )

A. Scenario One

[Well. This was sure one interesting wake up call. While Mabel had gotten use to strange things happening at Gravity Falls, never did she expect to wake up in some strange beach. Not only that, with the smell of gunpowder, she had a feeling there was no fun party going around.]

Soo...you know what's going on around here because I sure don't! Seems like somebody needs a little help throwing a party around here!

[It was bad timing but hey! She needed to break the tension in the air somehow!]

B. Scenario Two

[Now this? This, my friends, wasn't making Mabel a very happy camper! Sure, she can deal with strange changes with her body here and there but it wasn't another when people were scared of her!]

What?! You're kidding me, I'm not a monster! I'm the most adorablest thing you will ever see!

[As she kept looking at a certain pamphlet, she went to the nearest person she could find!]

You over there! You think I'm cute, right? Please tell me! I don't want to turn into some weird creature with slime and warts and whatever gross stuff happens they don't show on TV!

C. Scenario Four

[This could be a lot worse. It sucked knowing she was going to turn into a monster but having pointy ears, a tail, or claws wasn't a bad thing. In fact, she started to giggle a little as she moved her ears around]

Hey, check this out! Look what I can do! [And here, my friends, we see a girl running around in circles as she is trying to chase her own tail] Isn't that so cool? I didn't know I could do that!

D. Wildcard

[Surprise me!]

[scenario one; beach]

[Given that the last thing he remembers is his literal death, Shen Qingqiu is more relieved than surprised to find himself waking up in some strange place with no memory of how he got there. That said, he'd been expecting this body to be buried in soil, not sand and seawater; clearly something's gone terribly wrong. He takes a moment to bitterly curse Airplane's name into the heavens - his immediate reaction whenever something goes terribly wrong - before rolling over to see just how badly he's being screwed over this time -- holy shit that sure is a shotgun being pointed at his face.

What the fuck! There definitely aren't supposed to be any guns in a xianxia setting! Not even Airplane-bro's shoddy world-building ever sank that low! Don't tell him after all that work, he transmigated again?!]

Hey, system? A little update here would be nice! [He hisses the words under his breath, waiting for the dreaded Google Translate voice to gleefully inform him of whatever fresh torture awaits him now, but there's nothing but silence in his head. Useless piece of junk! Always chiming in when it's not needed, deducting points for arbritary reasons and forcing him into situations he hates - and now that he actually needs information, it's suddenly gone offline? He demands a refund!

With no aid from his garbage Siri knockoff and no cultivation powers he can sense, Shen Qingqiu can only rely on diplomacy to get out of this situation. Taking a deep breath, he smoothes his expression out into a hopefully friendly smile and rises slowly, keeping his hands loose and open to show he's unarmed.]

My apologies - it seems there's been a grave misunderstanding here. Surely we can resolve whatever issues there may be between us without needing to resort to violence?

[scenario two; pamphlets]

'Axe-thief axehounds'...poor naming sense, but it sounds like a fascinating creature nonetheless. Is there any chance it might be real, I wonder...?

[Despite the rude awakening, Shen Qingqiu seems to have settled quite happily into this new environment. He lounges at a cafe table, fan waving lazily in one hand as he reads through a massive stack of pamphlets with the other. On the table is a plethora of snacks and drinks - hey, if the locals are going to be kind enough to give him food, he's not going to be so ungracious as to refuse! He's also happy to share this newfound wealth - if he spots someone wandering around nearby who doesn't seem to be a local NPC, he'll wave them over with a smile.]

Excuse me...do you know if there's any way this one could find more information on monsters? A library, perhaps? [give him more monster lore!! he needs it!!]

[scenario three; transformation]

[Having pretty much memorized all the bestiaries he could find, it only takes a few moments for Shen Qingqiu to realize what the bamboo-green tint to his skin means. He huffs a sigh of both resignation and annoyance - it certainly could be worse, but he can't help but feel that someone Up There is having a joke at his expense by sticking him in a plant body. The system might be offline, but somehow he can still hear its robotic mocking laughter in his head anyway.

He quickly hurries towards the nearest patch of greenery he can see, hoping that the plants will be able to give him some warning of anyone approaching so he can avoid them. Unfortunately, he's failed to notice that his long hair of ivy and vines seem to be secreting some sort of sap...sap that will immediately stick to anyone unlucky enough to brush by him and refuse to let go.

Alternatively, you can find him frantically trying to unstick some luckless NPC out of his hair like the worst case of chewing gum possible.]

Please don't struggle, you're only making this worse for yourself - no no, I didn't mean it that way, just that we can make this much easier if we can locate some sort of blade -- ahhhh please stop crying!

Offmon | Digimon Universe App Monsters

Beach. [1]

Alone…? [2A]

Ruh roh. [2B]

< OFFMON > (Werewolf!Offmon) [3]

Naoto Kurogane | Blazblue

tara "terra" markov | detective comics comics (rebirth)

Yuzu Hiiragi | Yu-Gi-Oh! Arc V

Beach. [Prompt 1]

Where...? [Prompt 2]

Katara | Avatar: The Last Airbender