TDM: OCTOBER

[ryslighelpers]

TDM: OCTOBER

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

Dipper Pines | Gravity Falls | OTA!

[mystree]

[ I ]
[The last thing he remembered was falling asleep on the bus ride home. It was a long ride - not one that he was excited about leaving on, but that was the end of summer, after all. At least Mabel was right by his side as usual. A lot of things had changed, but never that.

Well.

Until he woke up with his eyes stinging, and he let out a little yelp, before coughing. Sand. His face was covered with sand.]

Oh, jeez, dude, what the--

[He looked up, and locked eyes with a man holding a rifle. He paused abruptly, brushing some of the sand off as he briefly averted his eyes.

Click.

Oooookay now he had his hands up!]

...I don't even know what's going on! Trust me, if you wanna rob someone, you're getting the wrong guy here! Besides, aren't you like, thirty?! I'm not even half tha--

[He wasn't faltering. Dipper bit his lip, looking down, then back. This felt a bit too surreal to start full-blown panicking yet, and that wouldn't help him in this situation. He swallowed...accidentally swallowing some sand and starting to cough.]

Oh, cra--CCKGGG. CKK. CKK. [He coughed, coughing up some sand.] Uh...I'm... [He cleared his throat. The guy hadn't faltered, but..] I'm sorry. Swallowed some sand there. So. Uh. Is there anything I can say that would make you not want to shoot me? I'd appreciate that.

[ II ]
[Normally, these books would be his exact area of interest. Descriptions of monsters? The paranormal that he knew existed? It was even good to get the validation that other people beyond Gravity Falls knew the weird was out there--and so he was almost cheerful when he was given his first book.

Then it hit him as to why by the second one he got. And a pamphlet. And soon he was overloaded, and he dumped them all on a park bench, trying to think over his situation. They were telling him that he was going to become a monster. Some people were trying to make deals with him for mercy. That alone made him uncomfortable, but it was more than that, of course...

He let out a little sigh, not looking behind him. Okay. If so many people were saying it, it was either true, or there was something more to it. Either way, it was something he needed to look into.]

...Alternatives to Human Flesh.

[Great. He'd always hoped in his heart of hearts for the anti-Soylent Green cookbook. Just like grandma would give you an aghast stare for you thinking of even making.

Nonetheless, he cracked it open as he sat, barely looking up from his book when he saw someone else approach.]

If you want to add to the pile, I'm going to admit that there's plenty already, but I appreciate it and I'm going to try my very best not to kill you, if that's...what you want me to say. [That didn't sound any better. He slowly looked up from the book, an uncertain frown on his face. Hmmm.]

[ I I I ]
[A haunting town. A bonfire in the middle, an eerie chill in the air. It was uncomfortable. The sort of place where ghosts would find a comfy home, he imagined. Maybe. Maybe even ghosts had living standards and they didn't want horror movie-chique. Ghosts were people, too. Were. Are. Exacts. Whatever.

He glanced around at the others in the town, and decided now was a great time to keep his head down. He bit into his lip, and didn't look anyone in the eyes. Now, where was the way out...?]

III

[meowbel]

[After spending the past couple of weeks here, Mabel had gotten use to the strangeness of everything. As much as she didn't want to turn into a monster, it was something she just had to deal with. It was just a matter of what she was going to turn into.

To take her mind off of the thought, she figured a party be good! She didn't know whatever the chanting or the bonfire was for but it didn't matter. It seemed like everyone was having fun!

If Dipper looked around, he may or may not see Mabel just casually dancing around]

( ii )

[renametoken]

[ Stan would recognize that dumb lumberjack hat anywhere. And yeah, he's more used to looking for the pine tree hat when he's trying to figure out where Dipper's run off to, but it's not like he missed he and Wendy's swap before he left for home. So he's not gonna hesitate or play it cool or anything like that.

No he's gonna power through the crowd and make a beeline right for Dipper. He's not looking too monstery just yet - the weird frilly ear fins are the most immediately obvious part, but he's also claws, red scales covering the backs of his hands, and sharp pointy teeth instead of dentures - so unfortunately no one is diving to get out of his way, but he still gets there in time to...

... hear Dipper offer to not eat him? Really? ]

Come on, kid. If they think you're on the fence about eating 'em, they'll fall all over themselves trying to help you.

[ That's 'exploiting strangers to your own benefit 101' in this place. ]

II

[pendulumentertainment]

Um, actually I wanted to ask if you're new here- but that kinda answered my question.

[The boy lets out a chuckle like he's nervous or something. Probably because he very much is.]

I'm here to offer actual advice, if you need it that is-

[Yuya was talking big for someone who had only been here a total of two months. But seeing as he just recently grew spikes and horns... He feels just a bit more qualified to help out than these other humans here...]

iii

[expectional]

[As Dipper makes his way through the town, he'll eventually come across a small manor house with a number of vibrant flowers growing in the beds on either side of the stairs.]

[Crouched in front of one of said beds is one young boy who appears to be more plant than human. He's humming faintly as he waters the flowers with a small, bright blue watering can, though both of these things abruptly come to a stop as he hears the sound of footsteps approaching.]

[He raises his head and turns it in Dipper's direction, revealing bright green eyes with an odd diamond-pattern around the pupils. Though once he actually gets a good look at the other boy, his expression becomes somewhat puzzled. He straightens up and turns to face the other boy, his leaf-capelet swooshing a little bit as he does so.]

You look a little lost...were you separated from whoever brought you here?

[Because, surely, even if he were a brand new follower of the Fog God, he wouldn't look so lost! He'd know exactly where he was and why he came here!]

II.

[afewlicks]

[Beau has been doing some....well, she guesses you'd call it research, but with the quality of the information she's been given, she's almost positive that it's actually counterproductive. So when she comes across a preteen boy with a lapful of those pamphlets, she kinda feels obligated to disabuse him of the notion that any of it will be helpful.]

Don't worry, kid, you're not exactly a threat. [Says the woman with the biceps and the abs, which she flexes accordingly whether she realizes she's doing it or not.] But if it helps? I'm basically sure this is all bullshit anyway.

1 - i'm so sorry, cw dumb vigilante violence

[diedonthejob]

[If you really want to piss Jason off, there are few things that will put you higher on his shit list than hurting kids. Fortunately for Dipper, and unfortunately for the man holding him at gunpoint, he just happened to be taking a stroll along the beach when this unfortunate scene began to unfold.]

[Now, there are a lot of ways to approach a situation like this. Deescalation is obviously the most favorable option, but Jason is shoot first ask questions later type of guy, and besides, he doesn't negotiate with scumbags.]

[All this to say, the only warning the man gets that he has royally screwed up is a sharp whistle, meant to startle him into turning around so his gun is no longer pointed at Dipper. No sooner than the kid is out of the direct line of fire, a goddamn tire iron slices through the air and smacks the guy right in the face, nearly knocking his head off his shoulders. He crumples to the ground like a sack of potatoes, but that doesn't stop Jason from walking over and giving him a swift kick in the ribs to make sure he stays down.]

Bastard- [He looks over his shoulder, his voice softening by a noticeable margin as he gives Dipper a quick once-over to make sure he's not hurt.] -You okay kid?

Richard Plantagenet | Requiem of the Rose King

[loyaulte]

[One]

[One second ago, the knife had descended. The night, the cell, his heart, everything had been black.
But now...now he's on his side with a mouthful of sand under the unrelenting light of midday. The stinging of wounds and the coldness of the water are too vivid, too real to be a hallucination. This isn't the witch's forest, this is...

Where is this?

Richard plays dead for a few more minutes, listening to the crash of the waves and the call of seabirds around him. His hands are empty and he can't see his knife anywhere in his currently limited field of vision. He's completely vulnerable here and that's the worst possible situation.

And then a sound like a thunderclap fills the air and he knows death is near. Maybe he'll just close his eyes and accept it.

Footsteps are coming closer...]

Maybe it's Death himself...

[Just an aside to himself, but he wouldn't be surprised if it's the truth.]

[Two]

[There are more people here than he's ever seen in one place in his entire life.

Richard is a slight figure dressed in sober black, arms hugged tightly to his body and trying to stay as far away from the crush of overly enthusiastic Bavanites as humanly possible. He looks overwhelmed and utterly baffled, no matter how hard he tries to school his face into a neutral expression.

Eventually, a woman with a basket full of pamphlets shoves a handful at him, forcing him to raise his hands to defend himself. However, that results in making those hands available for his assailant to slap glossy papers into. He's left standing awkwardly, holding two handfuls of pamphlets like they're hazardous materials he has no idea how to dispose of.]


[Three]

Where are you, witch?

[It's not the first time he's found himself spirited away like this. Somehow, his current situation feels both more and less real than the times he's found himself in the witch's forest, but it still carries the same sense of unease. Like this is somewhere he's meant to be, yet somewhere he should never enter. He doesn't raise his voice to call out, but he continues to talk as if she can hear him.]

If you brought me here, you must have something to say.

[She's never spared him her taunts before. Why, then, is she silent now? Why is all he hears the songs of the revelers by the bonfires?]

Show yourself!

[He may not have a sword here, but he did manage to find himself a knife to arm himself with. He doesn't pull it out quite yet, but he does keep his hand near his belt where it's strapped.]

One

[thesilentmusician]

[The monster that approached Richard could easily be mistaken for death. Her long hair was silver and her face was hidden behind a deer skull mask. Her skin was deathly pale and icicles coated her antlers and claws. Thea smiled nervously behind her deer skull mask.]

Not exactly, but I don't blame you for thinking that.

Livewire | OC

[electricdynamo]

1) You are a brick tied to me that's dragging me down
Livewire curled her fingers in the sand and winced. It was hot, bright, and it smelled rotten and salty. What a headache! What happened?

"Doc? ...Nick?" Oh, even her voice hurt, she found, as she coughed and staggered to her feet. "What in the hell..."

Nothing was like it was a few seconds ago. The lab was gone. The road was gone. Everything was gone, replaced with a dull, dirty beach, small rocks and dead fish here and there, and strange foot prints, some human, and others...very strange animals, she supposed.

"Doc! DOC!" Livewire stumbled over the brittle and uneven sand, her feet swimming in too-big boots. She wiped some foul smelling grit from her forehead and squinted in the grey, opalescent brightness. This wouldn't have been the first time she'd blacked out and woken up someplace unfamiliar, but it was usually at least someplace on a map. She'd grown up on one coast and been relocated to the other, and this place...she couldn't tell why, but it didn't have the bearing of either.

Okay. What was the last thing she could remember? Who was she calling just now? Doc! That's right, that slimy little dweeb, he ruined everything, ohhhh, she could just-! An unlucky hermit crab sailed through the air after becoming the target of a vicious kick. Whew. Okay. Not now. She'd string 'im up by his Green Lantern underoos later. Right now... Well, there was always following the footsteps.

2) Strike a match and I'll burn you to the ground
By now, Livewire - wait, Alexis, right? - had come to realize that she was entirely powerless, which had put a damper on things when she tried to attack one of the first people she'd seen. He'd run away when she started throwing haymakers, but had dropped a stack of papers which she bent to pick up. As she flipped through one after another, her face became more and more contorted.

She'd also come to realize that her face looked entirely different due to half of it being gone. Maybe that's what these pamphlets meant: weird little ears and a tiny piggy nose and...ew, an extra finger? Yikes.

"HEY." She yelled at someone standing under a streetlight and approached with an aggressive gait, waving the pamphlets in the air before remembering that no powers meant keeping a lower profile. "Uh, yo. Yeah, hey, you got any idea what this is all about?"

3) We are the Jack-o-lanterns in July
Something felt...off. It wasn't the absence of power, although that was always disquieting. It wasn't the fractals she occasionally saw in the corner of her vision. It was more like a lucid dream, only awake. Which, sure, sounded like just walking around, but it was more like a mesmerized hypnosis. Livewire found herself standing in front of a dusty arcade game. There were familiar sounds nearby, little buzzes, hums, clinks and clanks. The sounds of mechanized life. They should have provided a little relief, being sounds she often surrounded herself with, but they didn't. They were strangely alien, even though they sounded perfectly ordinary.

She frowned at the game in front of her and wiped a finger across the old, scratched Plexi-Glass, leaving a clean streak behind. There was a whirring sound behind her and she turned to see four little robots statue still and looking up at her.

Well. This place was creepy as shit, she decided, and if she'd had her powers, it would have been on fire by now. In lieu of that, she tip toed between the robots, who didn't seem interested in her movements anymore, and made for an exit. Unfortunately, she'd neglected to take note of the exits on her way in. Might not have been her fault, being hypnotized or whatever, but it could definitely become her problem. As she made her way through the seemingly abandoned area, her focus shifted to observing her surroundings and the little robots instead of the path directly in front of her, and she walked right into someone.

After a startled yelp, she snapped at them, "Hey, watch where I'm goin'!"

4)Setting fire to the sky
The change happened suddenly and unexpectedly.

She had no idea where she was. Or who she was. Or if she was even a she. All Alexis knew was agony. Blinding white, flashing behind her eyes, twisting her, burning her, tearing her to pieces with hot cold searing pain. Every muscle was like iron, pulling to the breaking point, oh God, would it break her back, the way she was arching, would it break her teeth, her neck?

At last, after minutes or hours or days of terrible suffering, just as the exhaustion began to push her toward unconsciousness, the pain began to die down. It seemed to take a long time, and it was still excruciating, but it was a little less every moment, until finally, she lay on the floor, panting and sweating and feeling sick and nauseous. Like she had the flu and food poisoning and menstrual cramps and vertigo and a really bad case of fell-down-an-elevator-shaft. And what was that noise!? That terrible, metallic screaming?! If she weren't already halfway comatose, she'd have sunk to her knees, holding her head as terror welled up in her. And at the same time, a tiny, tired little voice sighed, "I told you this would happen."

Then she felt something like a kick to the everywhere and then nothing at all.

Hours later, Alexis felt like she was waking up from surgery after being hit by a truck. She wasn't unfamiliar with the feeling. What she was unfamiliar with were the big, round ears and powerful new legs, the feet that were far too big and the claws. She pushed herself up with difficulty and promptly fell backwards because of the unexpected weight of an entirely new appendage. Once she managed to stand up and take a wavering step or two, she took stock of what had changed. Her face looked more familiar; she could tell from feeling it. The rest... She twisted around to look at the tail, long and rope-like, and grimaced, bearing a set of sharp yellow teeth. "Oh, funny. You're real funny, huh," she snarled at no one in particular, "You oughta do stand-up! Christ..."

Higashikata Josuke | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Diamond Is Unbreakable

[hairgashikata]

[ Spoilers for all of JJBA Part 4, if that's still a think we're warning for spoilers about. ]

one.

Josuke is a mess. He must have passed out after the fight with Kira. Blood loss will do that to you. Only... when he pushes himself into a sitting position, there isn't a gaping hole in his side, or his leg. Only some minor cuts and scrapes. And his uniform isn't bloody, it's... sandy? And wet.

"Ahh, great..." How did he get to the beach? Though, looking around, this doesn't look like any beach in Morioh that he's been to. He tries to stand up, body stiff and sore and moving slowly. Of all the times he wishes his Stand could heal himself, now is definitely one of them.

"Where am I? What is this place? What am I doing here?"

Asking questions to the empty air, it seems. Or you, if you happen to be there on the beach with him. He turns around, only to come face to face with an angry old man with a shotgun. Instantly his hands go up in a 'don't shoot!' gesture and he backs up.

"Whoa, whoa, calm down! Look, you really don't want to mess with me after the day I've had." He's tired, and he doesn't have it in him to deal with gun-crazy weirdos.

two

[ Well, he made his way to a city. It's still not a city he recognizes, which is another headache, but the part that's really confusing him is all these brochures and pamphlets he's been handed by people who at first he thought were trying to sell him something. But no, they just want him to read about weird cryptids, I guess. Okay. Odd, but okay.

He sits down on a bench to start flipping through the pamphlets. None of them make much sense to him, if he's honest. ]

"Alternatives to Eating Human Flesh?" They're joking, right? No one actually eats human flesh. That would be ridiculous!

four. (pooka)

[ Well, he's been here a while now, gotten the whole talk about how they can't leave, and everybody turns into a monster that has to eat people. Josuke really wishes he could have a word with whoever picks what monsters people turn into, because becoming a giant multicolored squirrel really wasn't in his game plan. Couldn't he have been a cool robot or a demon or something? Yeah, demons look totally evil, but at least they can fly and set things on fire and stuff. All Squirrelsuke can do is jump really high. Lame.

Anyway, he's trying to go about his business in Bavan, shortly after his first round of changes, walking down the sidewalk, not really noticing or paying attention to what his super long tail is doing. What it's doing is whacking people in the face, apparently. Oh well. It is what it is. ]

[ ooc: just for shits and giggles! will match prose or brackets! ]

II

[meowbel]

[Meanwhile, here comes one Mabel Pines approaching him!]

I wouldn't be surprised if people do! Doesn't mean they're right, it just makes them gross and creepy.

[Pause] And probably in jail too.

Sandalphon | Granblue Fantasy

[dejabrewed]

Unhelpful, much? [ I ]

[ Sandalphon's head was pounding as bleary eyes opened up. Then, the rushing need to cough up whatever sand and water landed in his mouth. He sat up, trying his best to clear out his mouth. He looked around, trying to figure out where he was, but nothing looked remotely familiar. If he had to guess, he'd say this was the Aguste Isles, but something deep inside him told him he wasn't.

The last thing he remembered was laying down in his bed, after saying good night to Lyria and the crew, aboard the Grancypher as it left Port Breeze. He didn't have much time to think on it, as the scent of gunpowder hit his nose. He was immediately on guard as he stood up, reaching out for his sword and keeping his hand on the hilt. Biting his lip, he just stood watch, careful not to move a muscle. ]

Who's there? Show yourself!

How are you okay with this? [ II ]

[ People actively helping him was something he was trying to adjust to, but this was on a new level. Sandalphon had to remind himself that no, this isn't the Grancypher's crew, where they knew him enough to trust him to an extent, but these were complete strangers. Even with the pamphlets and food they gave him, something was off. No one was this kind to him, especially after the cataclysms that he had caused.

As he sat in a cafe with a single cup of coffee, he read the pamphlets over and over, trying to figure out if there was an ulterior motive to the locals' actions. How To Deal With Changes, Alternatives to Human Flesh, and What to Expect When You're Expecting (to turn into a monster). All of those pamphlets sounded as if one of the younger crewmates took all the horror movies shown a little too seriously.

But the more he read, the more wary he got, as some of the people's gazes looked rather... hostile. Sandalphon's face remained stoic, however the irritation he held was growing. He forced himself to think more on the pamphlets rather than the people staring at him. ]

Monsters, hm...? Sounds impossible.

If this is Lucio's work, I want a refund. [ III ]

[ "Seek us out."

He flinched, soon blinking away the blur to find himself in a strange town. The air felt stifling, and Sandalphon knew that this wasn't normal. What set off his alarm bells even more wasn't the chilling, unfriendly atmosphere, but the group around the bonfire, throwing their praises into the air with someone else's name on their lips.

Who was this "Fog God"? The only gods he could think of was the Astral and Sky Gods. Even the supreme primarch could be considered a god to the skyfarers. The sight of these people praising something that he's never heard of in the Sky Realm made his stomach churn. Narrowing his eyes, he tried to keep his temper in check. No need to go scaring these people. ]

What did I stumble into..?

I

[pendulumentertainment]

[There's some rustling and uneven footsteps that can be heard. Just before a boy with green hair tumbles out of the nearby brush holding his side before falling to the ground.

Although, most people would notice the very prominent spikes on his head before anything else.]

giorno giovanna | jjba | ota

[digiorno]

one.

[Early evening, and he's pondering options with maybe too much seriousness. With a limited amount of time before he's consigned to a life of cannibalism, no meal can be taken for granted. Each must be chosen with deliberation.]

[Or not, as he blinks and opens his eyes on the moon rising over row after row of entirely vacant buildings. In the distance, where the houses grow sparse and make way to the edge of the trees, there's a cluster of fires.]

[He looks from side to side, then behind him. Absolutely nothing looks familiar. This isn't anywhere he's been, but he's got a sneaking suspicion he knows where it is anyway.]

[Softly, he sighs.] I was busy, [he protests quietly, moving a few yards to the right to put a house in between himself and the fires.] This isn't a persuasive argument.

two (faerie).

[As far as first transformations go, he could have done worse. Will probably do worse, next time. There was pain, but not as much as he expected — more discomfort than anything, really. The shock of how little actually happened is what's getting to him.]

[The fog's long settled over Bavan, and here he is: settled neatly on the open-air patio of a cafe, nails clinking occasionally on the ceramic of his cup as he acclimates to their length. They're an afterthought, though. His wings drape over the back of his chair, still drying; every few minutes he shifts uncomfortably to accommodate them. They're massive and translucent and pretty and incredibly annoying.]

[At least he can occupy himself with other people's misery. Target spotted — he lifts his gaze with a welcoming, theoretically sympathetic smile.] You look terrible. Sit down before you fall down.

wildcard.

[Hit me with anything! I'd rather keep away from first meeting/arrival stuff and thread on the assumption Giorno's been around a while, but otherwise I'm open to anything.

Two

[mystree]

[So Dipper himself is trying to adapt to being...well, what he is now. He's got an extra pair of eyes, he's a bit taller, an unmistakable aura about him, a pair of wings sprouting from his back...he's what they call a nephilhim.

He's a bit thrown off, as you might expect. And kind of woozy, because he's overwhelming himself with a lot of thoughts, and he hasn't slept, but he's pretty sure he's read he doesn't need to sleep anymore, so when is the downtime? When does his brain stop doing the things it does?

Never, it seems.

He's brought out of his manic thoughts by the sound of a seemingly calming voice, and he looks to see a blonde boy who seems to be around his age. Older, probably, but somewhere in that area. And he's also got beautiful wings that let onto the fact that he's no doubt a faerie. Dipper memorized these traits - he knows. He kindly tells him to sit down before he falls down, and Dipper smiles lightly at the offer before he does...a bit awkwardly, trying to make his wings work for him.]

Thanks. Uh, sorry, if I startled you. I'm not sure how to not startle people like this and most people don't want to be around me because I'm too bright and they can't take that, and normally that'd be me just bragging, and--

[Wait. Slow it down. Start over.]

...Sorry. Everything is just, uh, confusing.

Blues/Break Man/Proto Man | Mega Man (Archie Comics)

[prototype_blues]

001
[It's not the feeling of being on a beach that wakes the young robot up, but the distinct smell of the beach and gunpowder. Which are most certainly not the scent of the jungle he was very sure he just died in.

So it's in a slightly annoyed and bewildered state that the grey and red armoured fellow awakens, and thankfully not to a gun in his face. Instead, he's going to look around and try and get his bearings, and see if anything (or anyone) else is around.]

002
Ah, no thank you.
[Those are the only words uttered by Blues at the many different offers he's been getting from natives, which doesn't seem to have worked as in one gloved hand he has a bunch of pamphlets that have been foisted upon him.

Part of him is tempted to just pretend to read one just to be left alone, so that is what he'll do. And he regrets it immediately because the subject of the pamphlet is just ridiculous.]

... Monsters. Really.

Wildcard
[Hit me up for whatever, if my two options don't pique your interest.]

02.... [YELLS IN BLUES]

[standless]

Rather unfortunately it is, yes.

[The voice is rather soft. Kind, even, and it comes from behind.

The source, at a rather tall 6'5'', is just a bit imposing. He's smiling in what is hopefully a reassuring manner at least. He means well!] Though I do fear that whatever pamphlets you have received may not be entirely accurate- quite a number of the first ones I received in this place seem to have no true proof in their favor, even now.

Yasha Nydoorin | Critical Role

[barbaerian]

[A; Awakening]

[This isn't the first time Yasha's woken up without memory of how she got to where she is. The difference between now and then is that there's no comfort, no crackling booming voice of the Stormlord coming to her, pulling her out of the inky blackness of unconsciousness and back into the world. Now there's just... aching. And salt. And a sense of loss that churns her gut and fuels her movements; where is everyone? She needs to get back to her- to.... to them. To the Nein. Maybe they moved on without her, maybe they realized what a liability she was, what a traitor she was... she wouldn't blame them at all for dumping her on a beach and moving on. Not after everything she did - not after she nearly killed Beau. But... but she wants to see them. One last time, before she resumes her lonely, wandering life.

Too bad the first people she runs into aren't the friendly sort.]

... What is that?

[Should you decide to comb the beach this evening, you'll see... a bit of an interesting sight. A bulky mountain of a woman, dressed in furs and leathers, damp hair caked in sand, in front of two men, both pointing shotguns at her. The woman's head tilts, looking more confused than scared at being held at gunpoint. Those weapons... they looked familiar, like some weapons she'd seen guards around the Empire begin to carry, but what were they???]

"Stay... stay back!! We don't want your kind here! Just leave, like all the others, or we'll shoot!"

[The woman's shoulders slump, and she sighs. Despite her rather intimidating appearance, she doesn't seem very threatening...]

Look I- I don't know where I am. I don't know where to go, could you maybe...?

"Not our problem! Get out of here, monster!"

[Monster. A pained look crosses Yasha's face at that; after everything she did, the slaughters she committed while under Obann's thrall... she is a monster, isn't she...?]


[B; Pamphlets]

[Okay, so. Yasha's been filled in on everything, and she feels... no less lost than she did when she first woke up on the beach. Talk about other worlds, magic and gods and all of that... that's not her thing. That's Caleb's thing, or Jester's, or Caduceus's. She just hit things, and did her best to protect the others. So she's putting the details of her predicament out of her mind for now, instead focusing on reading the pamphlets the (much nicer) humans had given her upon her arrival into the city. There's no rolling of the eyes from her, or the completely look of disbelief... she almost looks interested?]

Do you think fur-bearing trout taste good? And axehounds... can you make weapons out of them?

[.... Priorities. Clearly, Yasha has them.]


[C; Whispers]

"Seek us out".

[It's like a thrall. Not quite like Obann, but it's a familiar sort of string wrapping around her brain and leading her out, away from her home, into the fog, until she finds the shadowy town of Dyster. But Yasha isn't happy, she doesn't seem awed or curious about the voice calling out to her; instead, she grits her teeth, shaking her head hard as if to chase the voice out of him.]

I won't. [Too late for that...] You're not... you're not Him.

[She reaches down to her belt, gripping the intricate symbol there; a circle, almost like a shield, with four lightning bolts striking out from the center. Her hand closes tight around it, thumb pressing against the point of one of the bolts until a beat of blood wells up under it.]

Leave me alone...


[D; Wildcard]

[Got another prompt? Drop it here! If you want to hash something out first, feel free to ping me over at OwlKnight]

A.

[afewlicks]

[The word 'monster' only makes it halfway out of the man's mouth before the heavy beat of footfalls on the sand comes to a crescendo, and then there's a foot connecting with the side of his jaw. The rifle flies from his hands and he goes over like a sack of potatoes. Breathing heavily, furiously, the owner of the foot whirls on the other man, spitting sand out of her mouth. He stares at her for a moment, wide-eyed, before bolting the moment Beauregard feints toward him, fists raised.

Wiping sand and spit from her face, the monk turns toward Yasha. Immediately, the hard, blazing look on her face melts into concern.]

Hey, you okay?

[Beau has no clue whatsoever what's going on, but she needs to make sure Yasha's okay. Needs to make sure nobody hurt her, because...well. Because.]

Jason Todd | DC | ota

[diedonthejob]

SCENARIO TWO

[There's quite a bit of ruckus going on somewhere downtown in a city Jason hasn't bothered to learn the name of. Curious monsters might see a few scattered humans running away from an alley, trying to avoid getting caught up in all the shouting and gunshots emanating from the end of the long, narrow passage.]

[Monsters who are curious enough, and brave enough, to ignore the obvious sounds of pain and violence will find an interesting sight at the end of the ally, if they dare to poke their heads in for a look.]

[A young man stands, his boot planted on the back of a much larger man whose bloody face has seen much better days. A few other bodies lie scattered here and there across the filthy alley floor, in varying states of unconsciousness.]

[The young man leans down, causing the man under his boot to let out a wet, pained gurgle as he takes the gun from his hand before standing back up so he can examine it in the light creeping in from the sky above.]

[The young man hums, his head tilting slightly to the side as he appraises his new prize and pops out its magazine to see what sort of ammo he's working with.]

A colt commander, huh? Not exactly my style, but you can't knock a classic.


SCENARIO THREE

[It's been a while since Jason's had voices in his head that aren't his own, and he's gotta say, absence has not made his heart grow fonder. The Pit Madness was worse, objectively, but whatever this is, he's still not a fan. He figures it's gotta be some kind of telepath, maybe a low-level subconscious projection rather than anyone actively trying to weave their fingers through his mangled brain. Either way, Jason doesn't appreciate the invasion of privacy, which is why he decides to do what the voice wants and seek it out, so he can find who it belongs to.]

[When he finally reaches the place the voice wanted to lure him to, Jason takes a quick look around to assess his surroundings before casually raising his newly acquired colt and firing a shot into the air.]

Hi, I'd like to speak to the manager.


SCENARIO FOUR - Harpy

[You know how sometimes a joke goes on for way too long, and it gets less and less funny the further on it goes? Yeah, that's Jason's whole fucking life. Just one long series of ironic twists that some hack comedian strung together for open mic night, to the mild amusement of an audience of six.]

[Jason stares down at the red feathers on his chest, the newly sprouted wings on his back twitching in agitation as he's hit with the latest punchline of the anti-joke that is his life.]

...A robin. Of course I'm a fucking robin.

One

[fantabulousandwich]

.38 or .45?

[Of course Harley went towards whatever send all the townies running and screaming. Gunshots might be a problem, at least on her fleshy parts, but it's still child's play. She's figured on some kind of monster from the deeps, maybe a big eyeball with lots of little eyeballs on tentacles, or something; and it that's kicking it in Bavan these days, she'd like to know sooner rather than later.

What she gets is a guy, and an impressive scene of carnage. Young, but not that young; and looking vaguely familiar in a way she can't quite place. Harley stands with arms crossed, inspecting him with a bit of a grin on her face. Where has she seen that face before?]

Either way, I prefer something with a bit more stopping power; but hey, different strokes for different folks.

Jim Moriarty | BBC Sherlock | OTA

[madeyoufall]

[ I ]
[The pool, Jim's mind says, though it's discarded almost immediately. He'd walked out the rear door, he knows that, and the water is too cold, too dark; there are things in it. He can feel them displacing the water in little swirls of movement.

He hasn't landed on anything more likely by the time he's managed to surface, the fetid saltwater he's coughing on to the beach offering no real answers. There are foggy thoughts of Sherrinford, and how Thames House could possibly have concocted a drug that blacked him out in just this sort of way without his hearing tell of it. But he'd have had warning rattles of that sort of move. No. The ground is unfamiliar, the lights too alien.

It's a real unknown. He's been grinning since before he surfaced.

Throat raw, but finally clear of water, he has the opportunity to weakly pick himself up, look for whatever sort of welcoming party he's likely due, and give a weary sigh, his voice small and weak.]

Toto, Kansas, etcetera. I don't suppose I can have a towel?

[ II ]

[It didn't take long at all for Jim to realize no one knew who he was, or why he was there. They didn't seem to be pretending, either. It made the baffled, shivering everyman even easier than it normally was, now stuffed inside some dank little shelter apparently intended for his fellow castaways. He'd accepted a blanket from someone with a sputter of profuse thanks before falling silent again, the wide-eyed newcomer in a sweater worn through four owners ago. He'd even had the chance to fearfully refuse some soup.

The scream inside him was peaking and abating unpredictably, but wasn't that always the mark of a really good time?

Despite their offerings, none of them had been particularly eager to draw him in further. Not that any of them were capable. He'd begun reading their literature the moment it had been hastily shoved into his hands, and that. Well. That had the makings of a very good time, if only there were anyone there to have that good time with. Whatever outrageous little laboratory he'd washed up onto, he didn't rate his chances at that very well at all.

Best, for the moment, to keep watch of the ebb and flow of people while learning the finer points of growing wings.]

II EeeeeeEEEEE

[fantabulousandwich]

[Harley doesn't make a habit of eyeing up the new fish. It's not like she's looking for Cas anyone, or anything. But, if she's in the area, and she doesn't have anything better to do, why not peek into the shelters, eyes up the pamphlet stands? Why not pass out what they don't offer, like cigarettes, or maybe enough cash for a drink at the bar down the street? And even if it means she has the townies eyeing her metal limbs and glowing pigtails with fear in their eyes, the noobs get to see the sights first-hand. And they're the ones who really matter, anyway.

The man huddled in on himself, like he's trying to get make himself as small as possible, gets an overt look of sympathy as she passes him. She'd missed him on her way in- now she's headed back out, not seeing the face that she's totally not looking for. Her hand goes to the pocket of her shorts; she has a couple of cigarettes left.]

Hey there, bud. You smoke? You look like you could use some air.

[resentfulness]

[i]

[The first thing Envy awoke to was the smell of sand and surf; a far cry from the dank caverns and the scent of Mustang's flames. The next few moments were shock and amazement over simply being alive, which considering they'd been the instrument of their own demise, made absolutely no sense.

Eventually, they'd concluded that this must be Father's work. This was their reward! Their existence did have meaning after all! The plan must have succeeded!

But where were they?

Before long, Envy set off, intent on finding their way off of this beach. But before they could make it too far...]

St-stay back! I'm warning you!

[A single human, staring him down, the fear of god in his eyes. They brandished a shotgun, which they aimed at Envy fearfully, their hands shaking.

Envy eyed the scene with incredulity, before their lips curled into a smirk.]

Heh. Lucky me, I get to have a little fun after my revival. What's wrong, little man? Recognize one of your betters?

I said stay back!

[The man's fearful reaction should have puzzled Envy more; one, why was a human soul still active and alive if Father had succeeded. And how did they even know to be afraid of Envy in the first place, when they looked like a normal human? None of that occurred to Envy as they advanced.]

I don't need to listen to the likes of-

[BAM!]

[The shot rang out and Envy found themselves blasted off their feet, from a combination of the shotgun blast and an unfamiliar change in weight. They lay there stunned, and wide eyed, unable to contemplate what had just happened.

The shot had been a glancing blow, buckshot having riddled their now bleeding shoulder. Bleeding, not the fluid form of the philosopher stone, but blood. And none of it was healing!

Envy twitched.]

What the hell?! WHAT THE HELL?!

[wildcard]

[I'm open to doing anything! If you have another idea, just let me know. I'll also add more prompts if I come up with them.]

[i]

[thekindestdemon]

[Lust came upon the scene already well in progress.]

[It was her habit to seek out the newly arrived, offer them direction and first aid if need be. She took her self appointed duties seriously. And it wasn't uncommon to encounter bold humans who felt safe in taking on someone who had yet to be touched by this place.]

[Having no idea just what had happened, Lust focused on the two immediate points that mattered most: one of their own was in trouble, and that was Envy lying on his back bleeding and shouting to the heavens.]

[It was all she needed to see to act. Moving quickly and in a flurry of metallic jewelry, Lust's tail shot out, the wide bulk of it crashing into the human with the shotgun. The man thought he was so brave, taking on a newly arrived and displaced human...let him deal with a full powered creature. She drew herself up in serpentine fashion, the rattle at the end of her tail shaking, the nails of all four hands extended into lances - far shorter than what she'd had before, but effective.]

A human made a foolish mistake. One he won't live to repeat. It's good to see you, Envy, I'll be with you as soon as I finish with this.

Venti | Genshin Impact

[tonedeafbard]

I

[Venti had only woken up a bit ago, most people upon waking up in an unfamiliar area, would be pretty confused. But the boy seems more upset than confused.]

Now the flower on my hat is all wilty! [He grumbles while inspecting his own cap. At a glance it... Does look worse for wear. But he also seems to have scrapes on his knees. Ones that someone would THINK he'd care more about, but instead;] Ah! The holy lyre-

[He pats around for it but can't find it, it seems. And he puffs out his cheeks in disappointment.]

First it gets broken, and now this... Things just aren't going my way today.

[All of this, said aloud is sure to garner the attention of anyone nearby...]

II

What do you mean I can't have a drink, I'm of age!

[After being bombarded by pamphlets, Venti had gone to take refuge inside what he would call a 'tavern' and what many else would call a 'bar'. Sure he had no Lyre. But ever confident, he was sure he could pick up any instrument and play it with ease.

But it seems that might not be enough.]

"Sorry kid, you don't look of age to me. Plus I'm not about handing out freebies."

But I AM of age! I'm almost 3000!

"Prove it."

[That stops the boy in his tracks. Letting out a nervous chuckle before pulling on the sleeve of the person next to him.]

Help me out would you? [He's whispering.] This guys really bein' a pain.

III (Neph!Venti)

[Wings. He had wings again. He hadn't for so long, and despite all the pain, he couldn't help but be a little giddy. Of course they didn't look like his exactly. But it was enough. Enough to go running- or flying outside into the night. Laughing and carrying on to himself.

And he's not being very quiet either...]

I

[dejabrewed]

I don't believe anything is going people's way today.

[ Sandalphon noticed the boy fretting, only happening to catch the last bits of what he had said. ]

If it were, I'm sure all of us would be back home, and not on this strange island.

[ An island or a peninsula, he wasn't sure yet. He would've checked by flying, but somehow, his wings won't come forth. ]

Nagisa Shingetsu | Danganronpa: Another Episode | ota

[expectional]

a. Dyster Sweet Dyster
[For the majority of his time in Ryslig, Dyster had been Nagisa's home. And, honestly, even when his lodgings were just a single, tiny room shared with Jataro, Dyster has always felt more like home than his actual home back in Towa City ever did.]

[Even though he technically has a home outside of Dyster now, a sprawling city of treehouses hidden deep in the woods, he still thinks of the ghostly city as home. Hey, there's no rule that says a person can't call two places home, right? And so, he still visits the Fog's Domain from time-to-time.]

[He and Jataro's lodgings are no longer a single room, but rather a small manor home with ivy climbing up the walls (and in through some of the windows) and beds of bright red spider lilies flanking the porch. And it's here that you may come across the little nymph if you happen to be visiting Dyster on this fine day. He's humming something softly as he tends to the flower beds in front of the house with a little blue watering can. If you're lost and not quite sure how you got here, maybe this kid can shed some light on things.]

[Or perhaps you walk past him and happen to catch a snippet of conversation:]

Are you feeling better today? You're certainly looking much healthier. [He's obviously not talking to you and there doesn't seem to be anyone else around either.]

b. Snack Time (cw: soul feeding)
[A scream shatters the still quiet of the foggy morning. Anyone who's been in Ryslig long enough knows what a scream like that must mean. And even someone who's only been here a little while can probably guess what it must mean.]

[It's a raw, primal sound that conveys not just fear, but the deepest depths of despair. There's no pleading to go along with it, no begging for ones life, just the wretched sound of a broken mind.]

[Should you follow the sound to its source, you'll find yourself in a small, deserted park. Two figures stand beneath a large tree: a man and a child. Though as you draw closer, you'll find that the man is not standing of his own volition and that the child is more plant than human.]

[Two long vines covered in overly-large bluebell flowers are what hold the limp man upright. They're wrapped tightly around his neck, cutting off his breath and his screams. He can still manage a few broken sobs though, sounds that are every bit as full of despair as his screams had been.]

[The child stares up at him out of eyes that are dark as the night sky. They're even spangled with little points of silver like stars, swirls of purple and blue...eyes that look more like two pools of the infinite cosmos than eyes. And in the air around these two figures is an odd, dark, shimmering dust.]

[Without warning, the bluebells begin to rock back and forth, ringing as though they were actually bells, though no sound comes out of them. At least, no sound that you can hear. The man, on the other hand, seems to hear something, as he begins to claw at the vines and lets out a scream that becomes palpable as something bright, white, and intangible pours from his mouth and his eyes. And that bright, white, intangible something splinters, fracturing into many trails that are seemingly pulled in by the bell-shaped flowers.]

[It's over in a matter of seconds. The man's screams die down as the last bits of his soul leave him, and then there's a final, sickening thud as his body is dropped carelessly to the ground. The boy remains standing, but closes his eyes and takes a deep breath of the cool, autumn air as the bluebells' ringing slows and the light of the man's soul fades from them entirely.]

B

[spearlance]

[After wandering around the area, Ken didn't know what to think. When he woke up, he figured he would have woken up in the dorm. But alas, he was placed in this strange new environment with no idea just where he was. Trying his best to find some kind of information, he figured the best way was to ask other people.

However, that came to a halt the moment he heard an ear piercing scream nearby. Wasting no time, he just ran straight to the sound wondering what was going on.

From there, he just stared at the vines wrapped around man and then back at the boy. He wanted to say something but in that split second, he heard the man fall straight to the ground. What just happened, he wasn't sure. However, he knew what happened to that man.

Fearing for his own life, he just took a step back away from the boy.]

What did you just do?! What was that?

Tyreen Calypso | Borderlands 3 (Spoilers possible)

[notthatkindofgod]

[One: Party on the beach]
[You know, when Tyreen let herself fall into the veins of a planet-sized creature of raw destructive power... she didn't expect it to taste so... gritty. And wet. In fact, she felt far less powerful than she thought she would, wetter too, which bared emphasizing.

Over two hundred pound of soaking wet fur, leather, and human slowly lugged itself further up the shore, coughing and gasping all the while. Until finally, Tyreen felt something brush against the top of her head and glances upward.

She spits a wad of sand, jaw setting.

A gun. Figures.]

Okay... What the actual dick?

[Three: Seeking out power]
[She heard the voices, and she followed. Something had this land by the neck, and if it wasn't her, than she'd find out who did.

Now, she stands in the midst of Dyster, basking in the glow of bonfires and the songs worship. The way she laughs, arms spread and eyes closed, you'd think she was the one being so heavily adored.]

Oh, this is what I've been missing! Nothing beats a good old-fashioned pow-wow for your number one god.

[Nobody seems to listen. Which is fine, for now. It gives her time to pick out faces among the throws of followers, the ones that looked out of their element, and having far less fun than her.

Like a predator, poised to pounce, she approaches. A far cry from her jovial tone and general swagger.]

Hey, don't tell me you're not enjoying the vibe going on here!

[< GodQueen >]
k so let's start a poll
favorite god? least favorite?
what's the most useful they've ever been I'm DYING to know
i wanna see some discussion here, people

< DemonicallyInspired >

[forgottensleepingbeauty]

...Well, there are only two.
Um...I can't say if I have a favorite or a least favorite. I don't really appreciate either. One of them brought me here and the other just confuses me.
It's not really something most people will have a pleasant discussion about, I'd imagine.
Do you have any strong opinions either way, since you're asking?

RJ MacCready | Fallout 3

[mayormacfuckyou]

1

[One of the things MacCready had trouble getting used to in his short time on the peninsula was the amount of people populating this place. Just walking along doing random, boring things, like shopping, or staring in the windows looking at stupid outfits. The only time he saw any real caution that he was familiar with was watching some of them react to these mutant-folk.

Part of the reason why he found it so odd how easily he could find an unoccupied room — it was by a bigass casino which he could have sworn he'd heard about somewhere, through word of mouth — Lucky 38-8? It's that familiarity, no matter how vague, that drew him to the area. He definitely made it a point to check it out later. But for now? Home base.

Somewhere in one of the higher up floors, at the very end of the hall, MacCready has occupied two rooms, right across from one another. There's a very clear line drawn to separate those two adjacent doors from the rest of the hallway...literally...a couple of tripwires are strung up from one end to the other. And just in case those weren't a deterrent, MacCready made sure to set up a sign that read "TURN BACK NOW, FUCK OFF".

Should the tripwires be, well...tripped, a bunch of heavy objects — buckets, huge text books, etc — will fall right on your head. Should anyone look up they'll see one hell of a contraption holding these objects in place until the tripwires are triggered.

MacCready will be at the end of the hall and placing another "KEEP OUT" sign on one of his claimed apt doors, wearing his oversized military garb and helmet.]

2

[Right. Now that he's set up, somewhat (would be better if his traps had explosives and triggered shotgun traps but whatever) he decides to do some more exploring. Namely, the Lucky 38 casino. The closer he gets to it the more familiar it becomes, the more he knows he's heard of it. But the only way to be sure is to check it out, scope out the inside — everything about this place is so different from what he's used to, no doubt once he gets inside he'll just know if this is the very same place he's heard about.

Except one problem; he's a kid. He's very visibly a kid. He's stopped immediately at the door, and can be seen raising a bit of a stink, still unused to a lot of the rules of a non-apocalyptic society.]

Hey fucko, all I'm saying is I need to get a look inside. Just one fuckin' look. Now get out of my way, mungo!

3

Username: MacCready

whats a kid gotta do to get a fuckin gun around here

and anyone know where these assholes take your shit after they steal it?

wildcard

[feel free to hit me with something else, or hmu at nicknacked

2

[youngtimer]

Luckily, there's someone on the Lucky's staff who is well used to that sort of treatment. Five sighs, puts down his rag, and hops down from behind the bar, his new wings fluttering uselessly. (They keep having a mind of their own and wanting to help, but as with most help, he doesn't want it unless he explicitly asks.)

"Hey," he calls out to the bouncer. He wants to say he's with me, but the words lock in his mouth - something which has been happening with increasing and frustrating frequency. He tries something else. "I think I know what the deal is. Let 'im in."

Casimir Zarek | OC | will match format

[borntoreign]

[ i | oh brave new world ]
[When Casimir wakes, he wakes all at once. The life he leads has left little space for drowsy lingering. He spits on the sand, a look of disgust on his face, and moves to get to his feet, which is when he sees he's not alone.]

[It is, perhaps, to his advantage that he's never seen a gun before. He recognises it as a weapon, of course - the object itself may be strange, but the look on the face of its wielder is deeply familiar - but how exactly it works, or what it does, he can't immediately tell. Which is why he has no qualms about darting out one blood-streaked hand, cat-quick, to grab the barrel, smashing the stock of the gun against the man's face as he leaps to his feet.]

[Perhaps you see the struggle, which is brief but bloody. Casimir's knife is gone, but he hasn't survived this long without learning to fight bare-handed, and the long metal tube the man is carrying serves perfectly well as a stave.]

[Or perhaps you weren't aware of this at all until a gunshot echoes over the dunes. There's perhaps twenty seconds before another shot sounds, and then silence falls again.]

[The Emperor of Vasilion looks down at the twitching body lying in the now-crimson sand, and then at the strange weapon that blasted half the man's chest into red mist. He is a handsome man, but his smile has something ugly to it.]

[He shoulders the shotgun, and starts down the beach towards the distant lights, glancing briefly as he walks at the scald mark on his hand. Whatever this place is, he thinks, he could grow to like it here.]


[ ii | that has such people in it ]
[He has never had the opportunity to be unknown. Not since he was a child, not in the kingdom which, in his thirty-six years, he has taken from a tiny mountain principality to a vast empire. He was crowned at barely eight winters, and a king is a king no matter where he goes.]

[So there's a delightful novelty to being a stranger. The people of this place seem welcoming enough, even fearful - though whether that is down to the gun on his shoulder and the blood on his doublet, he couldn't say - but they do not bow and scrape, and nor does he think, to look at them, that they probably care enough to bury a knife in his ribs. All in all, a pleasant change.]

[He takes the pamphlets with gracious words and polite smiles, thanking the givers and promising them he will remember their kindness. When he has a bundle of them, he settles himself cross-legged under a tree in one of the few green spaces he can find, sets the shotgun across his lap for safekeeping, and begins to read.]

[If you happen to be passing the Bavan park, you may find yourself hailed with a whistle and the raise of a slim, brown hand. The man who approaches is tall and lithe, and while his clothes are ragged from the indignity of his arrival, they are clearly rich - silks and furs, of the kind of cut one might see in a Renaissance painting. And, yes, he is covered in blood and carrying a shotgun, but he's smiling genially enough, and his tone is polite.]

Have you a moment? I fear these papers hardly answer all my questions.


[ iii | 'tis new to thee ]
[There is one problem with this place, although Casimir is not aware of it yet. It was hinted at in those first moments, with the strange weapon pointed at him, and yet, despite his caution in all kinds of ways, he hasn't entirely grasped the enormity of this world's differences.]

[The buildings are strange, and the people oddly-dressed. Nobody carries a blade - that, he notices at once and wonders at. The roads are stone, and there are strangenesses everywhere. He is cautious at every moment - waiting for an attack, waiting for another of those weapons to be pointed at him, watching every passer-by to gauge their intent.]

[In fact, he's so busy watching the people, and trying to judge where he should begin to get a foothold in this land, that he doesn't register the car barrelling towards him until it's too late.]

[Anyway, there's a concussed emperor on the pavement now, bleeding quite a lot and surrounded by broken glass where he hit the windshield. Anyone care to help?]


[ iv | a most high miracle ]
[All right. He's in another world, he's going to turn into a monster, and those carriages move much faster than he thought.]

[Got it.]

[Casimir may not be used to magic and monsters - certainly not these magics and monsters - but he knows people. He has the razor sharp edge of simplicity to his aims, and that leaves plenty of space for manoeuvre, with or without magic, guns, and cars.]

[(He may still be a bit embarrassed about that)]

[The point is, he's in a new world. He is no longer Emperor, for how can one be Emperor without an Empire? And consequently, he feels a thrill of promise that he has rarely experienced since his victories began to feel assured. At last, in a new world, without armies, without weapons, without knowledge - a challenge.]

[Step one: get to know his competition. On that basis, he seeks out the gods long before they call him - both of them.]

[In the Arcade, he wanders among the blinking lights and alien shapes of the machines, thumbs tucked into his belt, his expression one of fascination. In Dyster, he strolls altogether more comfortably through the fog, pausing now and then to watch the ghostly figures that come and go.]

[In either holy place, when he sees another living form, he approaches, offering a shallow bow.] I do hope I'm not intruding.

bang bang

[reignfall]

Water often plays a role in her nightmares, each and every time she wins a victory of a sort – and victorious she has been. Robert Baratheon is dead, after so many years, slain as much by the boar as by the strongwine he loved more than his own life. So then, she should celebrate, not dream of herself drenched on some beach, soaked in saltwater (which is unusual, as Melara had screamed up at her from a well, now more than the girl's lifetime ago). No saltwater in sight, is what she means to think.

She straightens first and immediately flinches at the noise, like an explosion, ringing loud and clear through the air. For a moment, during which she can only hear her own steps in the sand and the waves breaking beyond, she could swear it has been her imagination alone – and then the sound again, loud enough to drive even the last of the gulls away. Cersei is both smarter than people are willing to give her credit for, and unfortunately still a lot less smart than she believes herself to be – and so she investigates.

What she finds is a man holding a strange bit of metal, and while she can't tell what make this weapon is, it hardly matters.

"Lower your weapon." The authority comes natural, as if orders are more part of her natural speech than polite greetings, and she does not even bother to watch him comply (for certainly, he will comply, even in drenched silk robes and with her hair darkened by water, she is still the queen). Instead, her focus is on the dead man. It is a little distasteful, of course, but she can't help it: "He does not look too well, does he?"

Humour. Isn't she just darling?

Khada Jhin | League of Legends | OTA

[thevirtuoso]

Act I. (cw: murder, gore)

[The ocean is something unfamiliar, yet not. Its colors have been the backdrops of many a stage crafted by Jhin's skilled, artisanal hands. Its melody, both comforting and foreboding, has been interwoven into the haunting dirges of tragedies, and the syncopated jaunts of comedies. Despite never seeing the ocean in person, Jhin knew its salty taste like a lover's jealous kiss. So when his eyes peel open behind the carved ivory mask that conceals his face, he does not even have to look behind him to recognize he is in unfamiliar land.

Ionia is nowhere near the ocean, he tells himself, perhaps this is Bilgewater. Perhaps he's finally been caught and dragged to where the scum of Runeterra trade body parts for gold. Possibilities pass through his mind but they're stopped cold when his gaze turns upwards and he finds himself staring into the barrel of a crude looking shotgun.

There's a flutter of panic through his chest, like the quick feet of a ballerina's steps, and his ribcage as her stage. Even if there had been a physical manifestation of that panic though, it would have been hidden by his mask. The stranger behind the barrel says something, but Jhin doesn't hear it.

Blood is rushing through his ears and like a crescendo he bursts upwards with sudden energy, grabbing the barrel and turning it away from him with a hand he hadn't realized is shredded with cuts and gashes. A shot's fired as Jhin forces the stock back towards the man's face and bashes his nose broken. Another shot sounds when he takes that shotgun into his own hands and pulps the rest of the man's face with it. Bone and bloody gore streak the dull-colored sand with a shape that has Jhin recalling butterfly wings.

He drops down to his haunches before sticking his fingers into the remnants of the stranger's head.] No, no... this won't do. Look what you did? I can't let anyone see this mediocrity — if anyone finds out I produced such a boring piece, I don't know if I could live with myself.

Intermission.

[After discarding the shotgun—a dreadfully dull piece, honestly—Jhin makes his way into town. Perhaps the shots had alerted someone, perhaps not, but when he's swarmed with people it's only natural to assume his cover has been blown. He had been so thorough to discard his cream cloak that had been splattered with blood, had even dipped back into the ocean to wash his stained hands and boots.

Then he realizes the townspeople are holding something, no, practically shoving pamphlets into his hands. Tension bristles his shoulders as he stares down at them with seething hatred. To be recognized for his work was one thing, but this is propaganda! Jhin tosses the pamphlets onto the ground, stomping over them with an unwarranted huffiness as he breaks through the crowd without any regard for who he may push aside or step on.

Obviously these boors have no idea who the Golden Demon is, and that ignominy alone is enough to boil his blood with rage. He must make a name for himself in this new town, he thinks, but he needs to find a good base first. Jhin's gaze scans the coagulating crowd, until finally he spots someone amongst the proselytizing townspeople.

He reaches out, placing a cold and slender hand on their shoulder.] Excuse me, kind stranger. I am rather lost, care to help me?

Act II. (cw: murder again, gore, body horror)

[Finding someone gullible enough to follow him to an alleyway is easy enough, it's a tactic he had used many times, many years ago, much earlier in his career. Killing them was even easier, no gun needed. He knew exactly where to slice for the quickest death, and in their death he would make them beautiful. It's harder without his proper tools, but not impossible.

Flesh is carved away with a finesse and expertise of a sculptor with clay, peeling back skin and sinew alike to evoke the right imagery—the right emotion. Meat is pierced and flayed in the shapes of blooming flowers, while skin is twisted, braided into intricate lacework. He has to take a brick, found nearby, to break the victim's ribcage just to get to the pearl that was their lungs within; and from there, he flenses the organ to appear as if a mass of butterflies meant to take flight right from that gorey body cavity.

Then came the hardest task: exposing his creation to the masses. It's lackluster in comparison to any of his latest masterpieces, but certainly more awe-inspiring than his work on the beach. Now it was just a matter of knowing the right stage to display this piece.

Jhin brings a bloodied hand up to his masked face, tapping his forefinger against the smooth, carved ivory surface.] Think Jhin, think... where would be a good place to expose this artistic genius? Somewhere a lot of people will see it... but isn't too dangerous to transport there?

Act II

[borntoreign]

It might have been wiser to think of that earlier.

[Casimir has exchanged his damaged silks for a loose shirt and jeans, but he still doesn't look like a native. Something in the way he wears it, the way he holds himself, even in the idolent way he lounges against the wall of the alley and takes a bite from the apple he's holding, is undeniably out of place.]

[He nods down to the bloody artwork, raising one eyebrow approvingly.]

Still, very elegant. You certainly are an artist.

Perhaps I can help. After all that work, it would be a shame for nobody but us two to see it.

Jinx | League of Legends | OTA

[crazyhexplosion]

Wanna join me?

[Waking up in random locations is something Jinx is used to, especially if we're talking that one time she went on a week-long bender with that Chem-baron that she ended up shooting because she owed him money. Usually though, when she randomly woke up somewhere, that somewhere was one of the heaps, or some Pilty's couch she had claimed after blowing up the west wing of their house. It isn't usually a beach, and mostly because she tries to avoid Bilgewater because everything smells like fish and the dockhands call her "flat."

What really sucks about waking up on this beach though is that Jinx can't seem to find any of her guns anywhere, and she even heard a gunshot! It's like a baby bird calling to its mama, she tells herself, and right now she is being a terrible parent. As she skips down the beach, humming a tune that betrays how banged up and tossed around she looks, she contemplates if abandoning a gun warrants child support payments?

That thought, funny as it is, comes to a halt when her skipping is interrupted by something sticking out of the sand—in fact, she trips on it, and falls down face first. Jinx sputters sand as she sits up, rubbing at her chin and look back over her shoulder angrily. Who dares to interrupt her maternal woe? But then she notices that it's a hand, and not just any hand, but a skeletal hand! She bolts up and grabs hold of it, finding it still very much attached to a buried and decomposing body.]

Eugh! [She sticks her tongue out as she recoils, but then she crawls back towards it and starts digging away.] This is a terrible place to sleep, Mr. Corpse!

Come and play!

[After uncovering her corpse-friend, Jinx skips her way into town. People give her weird looks, but she just sticks her tongue out at them or gives them a reeeeaaaally wide manic grin just to watch them recoil with unease. Of course, she laughs at that, with a few snorts thrown in. She has the corpse's arms draped over his shoulders, holding his limp body like a backpack over her much more petite frame, with a surprising amount of strength and dedication. Regardless of the odd and cautious looks people give her, a brave few still manage to approach her while warily extending pamphlets to her.

But of course, her hands are occupied. Luckily she just grabs them between her teeth so that she doesn't have to drop the corpse, because only bad friends would just drop their pal like that. Jinx continues skipping through town though, humming the same tune she had on the beach. Then suddenly... she's bored. What was she doing again? Oh yeah, looking for her guns!

She drops the corpse and pamphlets without a thought, and brings a finger to tap poignantly at her chin as her face scrunches up. Thinking... thinking... She gasps, having held her breath while she tried to remember where she had last seen her babies.]

Man... thinking is hard. If only Fishbones was here, he's really good at thinking.

But I might shoot you, in your face

[So, while she was trying to remember, she thinks she heard her conscious tell her where her guns might be. She had followed its direction, but it kind of just led to a creepy looking town that doesn't have nearly enough chem-filth or garbage heaps to justify it. She walks through the town, her thumbs tucked into the straps of her bikini-vest as she looks around. She can feel something staring at her, and usually if she had one of her guns she'd just shoot around aimlessly until the feeling stopped, but she's kind of unarmed right now.]

Helloooooo? [She calls out, her voice far too cheerful sounding,] any creepy ghost-nerds around?

[Her boot collides with an empty can and it bounces quite a ways, with the way the metal echoes throughout the empty roads shivering up her spine. This place gives her the heebie-jeebies and she doesn't like it.]

If you don't answer me I'll blow this whole town uuuuup~? [Maybe that will get an answer, she thinks, even if she's fresh out of hexplosive-gel.]