TDM: MARCH / APRIL

[ryslighelpers]

TDM: MARCH / APRIL

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

Tasi Trianon || Amnesia: Rebirth

[hatif]

____ || ONE: SO CLOSE AND YET... ||
[cw: loss of infant through game mechanics, potential for mentions of pregnancy and/or child death in this thread.]

[ "You will lose yourself!" the voice calls out behind her. Tasi forces it out of her thoughts and instead frantically pulls away the metal grate, shoves the glowing container into its slot. The machine buzzes with life. With suffering, she almost thinks, before she forces that out of her mind too. She clutches Amari tightly to her chest with one arm, and doesn't notice when the other snags at some piece of the machinery, scraping skin. Tasi lunges for the button.

"No! Don't leave me!"

Tasi lunges for the button, and for an instant the Empress' voice echoes all around her. Light engulfs them, from sickly green to burning white, to a sensation like nothing she will ever get used to. 'Shhh, shhhh....', she coos to the baby in her arms, as best as her ragged breath will allow. The world around them vanishes, Tasi's body and soul spinning and tumbling at the portal's whims until-- ]

Ahhh!

[ Until the searing light of the journey goes dark and Tasi lands gracelessly on Vandare's beach. ]

Oh, f-- [ Tasi spits out a mouthful of sand. Fuck.

[ She blinks to adjust her eyes to the dusk, the sight of lights in the distance catching her attention. On her knees she digs both hands into the wet sand beneath her, and so marks the exact moment her heart stops. One last panicked beat. Her eyes go wide. ]

Amari...

[ The name tastes salty and raw in her throat, nothing but a hoarse whisper of fear. She scrambles to her feet and hastily looks around, at the ground just at her feet. ]

Amari!

[ She runs a distance this way and that, a sprint just to look for tracks, for a bundle dropped in the sand. No. No, no, no, this can't be, she had her, she had her, they were together! Tasi's eyes dart around and she spins. Stares wide-eyed out into the ocean and wades into the water to her knees. Screams. ]

Amari!

[ Screams again at the top of her lungs, the same name over and over. Hitched breaths between screams. Mutter nonoNO between screams, asking 'Where are you? Little one, where did you go?' between screams, biting back sobs. Always between screams.

Changes are she'll still be screaming the name by the time you get there. ]

____ || TWO: YOU WILL LOSE YOURSELF ||
[cw: physical assault - choking, possible themes of body horror and cannibalism in thread]

[ Amari is gone. Her child is gone - again. Her fear has turned cold fact, an icy dread that settles in her stomach and weighs down her every step. The locket, gone too, and how will she find her way back to Amari now? God, how will she even know where to look? Her feet take her further than her thoughts, past the letters 'North Vandare' on a sign, until her reflection in an empty storefront window inevitably catches her attention. ]

Could... could this be?

[ Tasi sees her face. Tasi sees her face the way it used to be, not the way she saw it last. Not the way the Empress wanted it, but she touches her cheek to be sure. A cut, but that was probably there before. Of all the things missing--

Tasi looks down at her arms. More cut-up and bruised than she remembers, but lighter. Human. With no trace of the harvester's disease flowing through her veins. And so she squeezes the pamphlet in her hand, scowling. Then what the hell is this supposed to mean? ]

What to expect when you're expecting- to turn into a monster?

[ Tasi reads it to herself and scoffs. Somebody chose their audience poorly. She found this- She frowns, tries to remember her walk here. She picked this up on a park bench, but nobody in their right mind would play such a cruel joke on her. And even those out of their minds have used different methods so far... ]

It doesn't make any sense... what is this place? It almost looks normal, this isn't her world anymore, but--

[ Her thought is cut off abruptly by the iron chain wrapping around her neck. Tasi's scream turns choked gurgle as she's yanked off of her feet and to the ground.

"Hurry up! Hurry up, we caught one!" ]

[[ OOC: Please feel free to have your character show up either at the end of this prompt, or midway through to talk to her before the attack. ]]

____ || THREE: MISC ||

[[ OOC: Hi all, happy to work with various other prompts, just give me any set-up you like or hit me up via PM or PP @ fishrepairs if you'd like to discuss details beforehand. ]]

TWO

[downdowndown]

[To say that Daniel isn't much of a fighter is putting it mildly. When he sees the men wrap the chain around that poor woman's neck, his first instinct is to leave her, to turn around and run until this whole scene is nothing but specks on the horizon. He doesn't want to be a part of this. Yet there's something within him, something he can't quite control that makes him scream:]

Let her go!

[Daniel himself is already monstrous -- a second mouth juts awkwardly out of his cheek, his extra limbs are covered with carapace, and two brown, dingy wings hang down from his shoulders like a cape.]

Or I'll eat all of you!

Luke Wright | The Letter (SPOILERS (specifically the true ending)

[deathanddaffodils]

Warm welcome

[When Luke awoke to the sound of crashing waves, he was quite shocked. When he had given himself to that...thing, he expected the feeling of burning flesh as the mansion around them burned. And even if she let him die...well he certainly wasn't expecting the sound of birds and a gentle breeze to greet him.]

Bloody hell...

[The stinging pain of fresh wounds was expected, but the refreshing feeling of cold water washing over him? It wasn’t what he expected Hell to be like. Swearing quietly, he opened his eyes to the blinding light of the sun and squinted at his surroundings around him.

The beach huh...Hannah loved the sea. Was this an illusion to torture him? Gritting his teeth at the pain of salt entering his wounds, he sat up and inspected himself. His Kiton X-5 suit was ruined beyond repair, both torn all over and soaked from the seawater.]

This cost forty thousand pounds...

[Groaning, he swore loudly and dramatically flopped back down, letting the salt water wash over him. As he lay, he thought back to what happened before he woke here. He remembered the ghost, Feathers dying, the screaming...Hannah.

At the thought of his late wife, he listened for the sound of tortured souls. But as he listened, he didn't hear the screams of his wife and unborn children, but the sound of lapping waves. Are they free?

Against his better judgment, Luke let himself hope. Perhaps he was free himself. Laughing loudly, he almost didn't hear the sound of footsteps and the sound of a shotgun being cocked.]

Another arrival eh? Let's get rid of him before he's a problem.

[His eyebrows furrowed as he heard a couple of simpletons talk. Another arrival? What did that mean? Did the others come here? Glaring at them, he got up and straightened his ruined clothes.]

Put down that blasted weapon, will you? I have questions for you. Where am I?

[You might want to help him before he gets himself killed.]


All eyes on me

This is absolute bollocks.

[Luke had been handed pamphlets as a way to answer his questions. But they were ultimately filled with useless information. He couldn't believe there were people who actually believe this shite. Gordon Bennet, there was even some bloody cosplayers walking around in ridiculous attire fitting monsters. As if there is such a thing as monsters. The only monsters that exist are humans.

Sneering at some terrified locals, he crumpled the latest paper he was given before carelessly throwing it away. What utter bullshite.]

How hard is it to get some real information around here?

[There was some good that had come from his mysterious arrival. Everyone was staring at him, with a mix of fear and hate. Preening at the attention, he grinned darkly at the feeling of power he felt at the fear. He could get used to this.]

You there! What's with this absolutely useless information I've been given? Bunnyipyips And You? What to Expect When You're Expecting to turn into a monster? Alternatives to Human Flesh?! What kind of sick fetish parade are you having here?


Punishment (CW: Body Horror, eye horror, gore, blood)

[Although he had been waiting for it, he was still surprised when his first changes happened. Surprisingly, Luke had been almost eager for the transformation to begin. The fear the locals were giving him was intoxicating, making him almost dizzy with power. He wasn't surprised by the fear but actually transforming into a monster? Well, it was certainly new.]

I guess being only a monster by title is no longer in style.

[So when the chill of the fog rolled into the streets and buildings, he thought he was ready. When he woke up to daffodils growing in his hair, he thought it ironic and fitting. Thinking the transformation was done, he decided to go out into the streets to take a stroll. He was feeling disappointed at the lack of change when he suddenly felt an intense pain in his eyes. Letting out a shocked yowl, he fell to his knees and clutched his left eye.

It felt like something was trying to burst out of his eye socket! Groaning, he curled into a ball on the street, in too much pain to care about the stares. Grinding his teeth together in pain, he suddenly let out a cry of agony as a black dahlia burst out of his left eye in a shower of blood and flesh. Screaming, he covered the bleeding flower as he twisted in agony.

Eventually, the screams lessened to whimpers as blood dripped down his nose and cheek from the wound. Dimly he wondered if this was indeed hell and this was just the start of his punishment.]


((OOC: This boy is an asshole so here is his opt out just in case.))

Re: Warm Welcome

[fullmoonkiller]

[ A moment later, A shot rang out a moment later, making the ‘simpletons’ turn towards a tall man in a white suit and platinum hair. The beauty of his appearance, however, was spoiled by the seawater and staining sand like the other man’s clothes. The smoking handgun trained on the leader was his. As he walked closer, he called out over the surf, his voice smooth and unconcerned. ]

I’m not sure what answers you will get from them. Those I met weren’t willing to share much with me besides a few useless curses. ( He chuckled and his left eye glinted. ) They’d much prefer to shoot you and ask questions after, but they lack the drive to finish the job.

Makoto Naegi | Danganronpa | OTA (Danganronpa Spoilers)

[cloversandcranes]

This feels too familiar

[When Makoto slowly awoke to the sound of crashing waves, well at first he wasn't that alarmed. He was on a boat back to the Future Foundation after all. Hearing water crash against the boat was normal and most of the time relaxing. But as the waves grew louder as his conscious returned, he stiffened in alarm.

Waves?! This close? A-And I can feel them washing over my body!

Launching his eyes open, he was blinded by the sun shining in his eyes. Squinting through his fingers, he noticed sharp pain all over his body. Like he had injuries all over his body. What the?

Wincing at the pain, he pushed himself to a sitting position to take a look at his surroundings better. He was on a beach but not a beach he expected. Not the tropical beaches of Jabberwock Island or polluted and sick like the ones he remembered seeing after he escaped Hope's Peak. It had been a while since he's seen a beach like this.]

Where am I...

[Unease filled him as he checked the wounds on his body. He was covered with cuts and scapes all over him. And he had no recollection of how he got them. Or how he got here on this beach. No...it can't be...

As he tried to calm his racing heart at the thought of being in another killing game, he muttered to himself.]

No...Don't think that. It's not that. ...Where are Togami-kun and Kirigiri-san?

[He was sure they were with him on the boat. And he knew that if he was taken, they would not be far behind. Calming slightly at the thought of his dear friends, he pushed himself up with a groan and looked for signs of life around him. He could see the signs of civilization in the distance. As he slowly walked in the direction of the city, he heard the sound of something approaching him.

Tensing, he shifted into a stance the Future Foundation taught him. He wasn't a fighter but he was pretty good at evasion. He reminded himself to breathe evenly as he waited for the person to approach.]

Hello?


Well...this is new

[After a while of walking, he was in a city that felt...strange. It certainly wasn't the ruins he expected nor the city of Towa. And there were people here! And they weren't crazed with despair. Feeling a little lighter since his arrival, he watched the civilians do their daily activities. Like the world hadn't ended.

It felt, hopeful. Well...almost. There was a feeling in the air that made him hesitant. The air of fear and misery were all around the city, especially around the locals. So when someone nervously offered him new clothes and food, he was confused.

It was expected for strangers to feel nervous around him since he gained his title of Ultimate Hope. But this? This wasn't nervous excitement or awe. It was terror. The woman shook as she offered him pamphlets, refusing to touch him or look in his eyes. Unable to help himself, he frowned in concern and gently ask.]

Are you okay? You seem shaken.

[When he tried to put a gentle hand on her shoulder, she shrieked and ran away. Unable to do anything but stare at the vanishing woman, he stood there with his hand half lifted in a reaching posture.]

What...just happened?


Arcade Dreams

[One minute Makoto was walking through the thinning streets of Bavan, the next, he was somewhere else. Reeling from the change of light and surroundings, he looked around hesitantly. The flashy lights reminded him of old arcades he saw in movies and at home. He usually stayed home to play games but sometimes his friends would invite him to play games at the arcade. There even were old pinball machines all around.]

Um...

[He let out a yelp when he saw tiny robots wheeling around the floor, some going in between his legs. Gawking at the sight, he couldn't help but think, Thank god they're not Monokumas. Relaxing at that, he smiled at the robots and crouched down to talk to one.]

Hello there. Do you know where I am?


(Network)< 11037 >

Hello there. I guess I'm only one of the many arrivals that have found themselves here. My name is Naegi Makoto and I'm one of many who are trying to leave Ryslig.

I have a question for the veterans of this place.

How long have you been on this peninsula? And has anyone made any progress in leaving Ryslig?

Also, why do you think we were chosen and brought here?

I am wondering if the residents here could introduce themselves to me. If it's not too much of a bother. I'd like to get to know as many people here as possible. That way we can work together in surviving this place.



Fallen Angel (Body horror, transformation, blood, some gore)

[Makoto shivered as the fog rolled into the streets that morning. Up unusually early due to nightmares, he walked through the streets shivering and wished that he had dressed warmer before he left the apartment. Shaking his head to keep away the exhaustion and misery that threatened to consume him, he looked at the sky and marveled at the fading stars.]

It's been a while since I've seen the stars like this. It's nice to see them again after so long.

[As the cold fog brushed past him, he couldn't help but wonder how his friends were doing? Were they safe? Is the Future Foundation hunting them down?

And Komaru...his dear sister. How was she, helping the hated children that nearly slaughtered all adults in Towa? How was she holding up after all that mess?

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and let out a promise to them.]

I'll come back. No matter what happens, no matter how long, I'll find a way out of here. I promise.

[As soon as he finished his promise, he felt intense pain coming from his back. Letting out a cry of pain and shock, he reached behind him to feel what was happening. Near his shoulder blades, a large lump was growing on his back as his skin stretched painfully to make room for it. As he strained to feel the lump more, his skin suddenly ripped, making him cry out in pain as he fell to his knees and hunched over. As his skin ripped, he felt something soft erupt from the wound and brush his back.

Tears dripped down his face as he took strained breaths. Daring to open his eyes, he felt something light touch his arm and took a look. What he saw surprised him. Bloodstained feathers gently brushed against his shaking body in a comforting way. Green and black colors peeked through the blood, slightly reflecting the light from the streetlamps on them.]

Huh...Guess I'm a harpy.

[Thinking it was over, he straightened up into a sitting position. Eternally optimistic, he let out a small laugh.]

Well, that wasn't too b-!

[Before he could finish the words, he screamed in agony as his already torn skin tore more as another pair of wings burst out. This time they were white with black tips. Like the crane he saved when he was young.]

I-I guess that's sweet in it's own way...Now I need to-

[Again, the pain came back tenfold as more wings slipped out. This time stopping himself from screaming, he gritted his teeth tightly as his new wings left the confines with a flourish. Of course. With his bad luck, he didn't know why he was surprised.

After waiting for the pain to subside to a level more manageable, he groaned and inspected the new wings. They were black as night, shining with the fresh blood reflecting light off of them. Standing to his feet, he winced as moving irritated the gaping wound on his back.

Letting out a shaky breath, he blushed in embarrassment when he saw some people staring at him. Evidently, he wasn't as alone as he thought. And some time had definitely passed, the sun rising higher in the sky. The stars were completely gone.]

Um...

[He gulped at the intense stares and put on a shaky smile and laughter awkwardly.]

<kyouken>

[justbeingknife]

Hey there. I've been on Ryslig for about two years, myself. Couldn't really claim to know why we got picked, but I can tell ya that we've been able to leave Ryslig temporarily a couple of times.

Every once in a while, we get kicked over to an alternate version of Ryslig where the Fog God doesn't exist. There's also a guy who's made a temporary portal to a couple different home dimensions.

cairo ★ we are the tigers

[bestforyou]

1. but who had your back when you had a heart attack?

[Riley, can I have the key?
No, Cai, you can't.

Cairo twists, coughing up a mouthful of sand. Where the hell is she? What did Riley - no. Riley would never. Riley wouldn't hurt her. Even at her craziest, Riley wouldn't. They're best friends. They've always done everything together. She coughs again, bringing up more sand. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.]

Wha - help, I -

[This is the worst day ever. It's absolutely the worst. Three people are dead and the mascot killed Annleigh's boyfriend and her best friend trapped her in a fucking basement and she had a knife and - you know what? Deep breaths. Deep breaths and it'll be fine. Hahahahaha. "Fine."

Yup, yeah. Fine. It's definitely fine. Her best friend murdered two people and Cairo's perfectly fine. Everything! Is! Fine!]

2. so forgive me for doing what's best for you

Uh, no thank you.

[Cairo backs off from someone trying to offer her some questionable looking food. She doesn't have much of an appetite, not after the day she's been having. The inside of her mouth still tastes like sand and she feels like shit. Honestly, the friendliness of some people is creeping her out. She passes someone trying to offer her a pamphlet and in trying to get away without taking one, she bumps into someone... less friendly.]

Sorry, I'm just trying to -

[With a glare, the person storms off and Cairo scoffs. Rude much?]

Worst. Day. Ever.

3. i'll always be on your team

[I'm happy work with whatever you want to throw at me! If you wanna plot something out, you can hit me up on plurk (flyingthesky).]

3 wildcard!!!

[isawallflower]

[ Each set of arrivals, Riley's dutifully looked for any familiar faces. Each time, she's not really sure what she'll do if she recognizes one, figuring she'll play it by ear.

She...couldn't quite predict it would lead to the reunion it does. Almost just relieved Cairo's listening to her, Riley slots very easily back into the spot beside her, resorting tot chattering incessantly to keep any bit of silence from passing between them. Any moment where they'll have to address one of the many different proverbial elephants in the room. ]

...and he's the person you want to talk to about, you know, the rent-free housing— they aren't anything to really brag about, but they have the essentials, and they're close to, ummm...other places, that...are important to know about, if...it...may take awhile, to get back home—

[ ...You ever just kind of, like. Talk without having anything to really talk about...? Yeah. Caught up in the minutiae, to say the least. ]

Webmind | WWW Trilogy

[iamnotgod]

1. Initialize (CW: Panic Attack)

Those happening along the shore may encounter one lone man - facedown, but not buried; muscles strained, but no outward signs of distress...

If this new arrival is panicking, he's not vocalizing, but that is an effort of sheer will. Sheer disbelief.

Sheer terror.

How can any of this be real?

Some distant part of him is aware that there has to be more to this, that whatever is happening he can't just lie here-

But maybe he needs a little help first. An external force to ground him in this reality.

I never would have thought, never would have hoped, never would have dreamed...

Ha. Haaaaaa.

2. Investigate

Some time - a not insignificant amount - later, and Webmind has his wits about him. And enough motor control that he can trust he can act for himself in this form, now.

So he's tackling the business of getting himself acclimated, whether it's seeing the sights (with his own eyes!), tentatively tasting foods for the first time (and he is not looking forward to 'trying human', thank-you-very-much), trying not to be too transparent about his disbelief towards the gods (he's an empiricist, not just an atheist; he knows very much better than to antagonize certain kinds of people by doubting their existence), or, if one visibly looks to have wings or be adapted for undersea travel, inquiring quite energetically about what there is to see from the air or underwater, respectively.

3. Intern (aka: Arcade)

Someone (several someones, naturally) had once asked Webmind what he would have thought the afterlife looked like, if he were to believe one existed.

(They'd gotten clever with the phrasing.)

And, to be perfectly honest... it would not have been this. Though, as one might find him inspecting the place, Webmind can't help but think that this is what people were thinking he would have said.

The recursive consideration isn't distracting him as much as he would like, however, so he turns to seeking out conversation instead...

Wen Qing | The Untamed

[repairing]

TWO

Finding herself in an unfamiliar town was unsettling to say the least, the clothing and buildings nothing like the ones she's used to. But the offers of help are not to be ignord, at least, even if she was wary initially. The information provided is enough to keep her focused on the pamphlets once she's had some food and shelter.

But realizing exactly why they're being so helpful takes longer than it likely would have under other circumstances, Wen Qing reviewing the available information and discarding what seems to be the least useful.

And then it's simply a matter of seeking actual answers beyond the pamphlets. The ugly looks and comments are nothing new, her expression carefully neutral as she picks her way through a group, only pausing when she collides with someone after being shoved off balance.

And offers a bow in apology, her expression closing off a moment later. "Excuse me, I didn't see you there."


[Not the best at cold starts but I'm open to wildcards or you can pm me to discuss a different prompt if you want something more specific.]

[legbreakings]

It is a mere coincidence that has Jiang Cheng here in this town on this day, when he avoids interacting with this uncomfortably futuristic world as much as he can by staying at isolated Lotus Pier.

He is lost in thoughts carrying two shopping bags when he crashes into someone else, or maybe they crash into him. He curses under his breath but the woman is apologizing already before he has gotten himself worked up to bark at her... and then the once-familiar voice hits him like a blast from the past.

He looks up from crouching to pick up his scattered possessions, his eyes wide in disbelief. He doesn't look much different from the boy he had once been, still wearing purple robes, not aged much just grown sterner, but he stares at her as if he is seeing a ghost. Which, to him, she might as well be. She had died. He had seen her ashes scattered 16 years ago.

"This is a joke," he blurts out, voice shaky as he quickly straightens up. "You can't be here!"

Michael Cruikshanks | OC | OTA

[atomicbond]

[ ONE - CLOSED ]

[Waking up in strange places with his clothes sticking to him is a common occurrence in Michael's line of work. Though he has to admit - sea water and sand is among the better things Michael's found himself covered in. You ever get sent to investigate a facility that cures sturgeon roe - say no.]

[He pulls himself up off the sand, and panic immediately grips his heart when he sees the small, rumpled body on the beach, immediately throwing himself upright to get over to Adrian, lying there on the sand, blonde hair soaked. He's out cold, and when Michael gently pats at him, he doesn't stir. He bundles him into his arms, casting eyes about the beach. They need to get somewhere warm and dry. Fast.]

[When Adrian awakens, he'll be bundled in a blanket in front of a roaring fire, Michael in the kitchen with a knife, peeling something. On the mantlepiece there are black and white photographs of a family.]

[It makes the single spot of blood on the glass of one all the more noticeable.]

[When he sees Adrian's awake, he's immediately tender.]

Darling. You had me worried there.

[ TWO - OTA ]

[Michael picks over the document with interest. They aren't particularly high quality, and they really do make him think of some of the health documents the Agency handed out occasionally addressing new health concerns as the squints in Q's office came up with them.]

[He leans over to another person nearby, someone who isn't one of the natives plying them with drinks and pressing food into their hands and wafts a brochure, titled What To Expect When You're Expecting (To Become A Monster) at them.]

D'you think any o'this is realistic?

[ WILDCARD ]

[Want to plot something? I can be reached at talloran]

[atomicwolff]

And there, where the eyes open and the mouth starts to part, begins a smile sure of one thing:

“Victory.”

That is all Adrian Wolff has ever needed.

Though—much as he might be remiss to admit—the company of a belching fire and this warm blanket are welcome bonus. He doesn’t move (not immediately, avoiding aggravating preexisting soreness), instead letting himself exhale and lie back into the sofa he’s been lied out upon. On his side, of course, because who would Michael be if not attentive to the last detail?

Hnh. He had worried him.

“I wasn’t expecting fainting, myself,” he says. “Product of the grafting process, I imagine. Temporary. More importantly, how are you feeling, Michael? Spritely? Able to decommission a whole institution of that devil, capitalism?”

Clearly, Adrian’s laughter would have been dry as ever had it not broken into coughing. The episode doesn’t last long, not before he rights himself and waves off Michael crooning over him—and in same motion Adrian realizes that his glasses are gone, and so is his coat. He lets out a stern sound of (raspy) annoyance, but doesn’t bother going further. The transportation process had never worn a guarantee of being perfect, successful though it was. Although he had measured its chances favorably. Such were rolls of the dice.

Hmph.

“Where are we?”

He never did consider himself a gambler.

Triffany Lottablog | Bugsnax

[lottabones]

One

[It's clear when she opens her eyes that something is wrong. They were supposed to have safety escaped to the mainland, but apparently she was knocked out and fell off of the ship. Oh well. Things don't usually turn out the way you'd expect.

She shrugs off the salt water, and as she rubs out all remaining sand from her mouth, it dawns on her that no monstrous Bugsnax have attacked just yet. Nothing is on fire, and she hasn't heard any screams. This is enough to convince her that she's not on Snaktooth Island anymore.]

That's good enough for now! [A bit of waterlogged clothing never hurt anymore. Triffany makes a move to stand up but catches a glimpse of her arm resting on her knee.

It's light brown. Not in the normal way. There's no fur. Whatever hair is there barely exists. While she can't see it, the short, curly hair on her head remains green.]

This wasn't supposed to happen. [Her arms are supposed to return to normal when the Snakification wore off. It wasn't meant to wear off this quickly, either. Someone must have tried pulling off the Bugsnax and did...this to her. Was it Floofty? No, they would ask permission before experimenting on someone, especially when it came to one of their closest friends.

Triffany stands up and calls out for anyone else who was with her.] Wambus? Floofty? Filbo? [A noise from up ahead - there's something out there, and whatever is burning is getting more intense.

Sometimes, it's smart to run. She bolts down the beach, determined to find someone else before something else finds them.]

Three

[Cities have never appealed to Triffany. While she dearly loves her friends that lived in busy dwellings, it lacked spaces to explore the history of the peninsula. It didn't help that she was warned multiple times of wandering into the wilderness alone, which puts a damper on her usual plan to go camp somewhere remote and sometimes return for supplies.

When something calls out to her, she gladly accepts. Exploration does not come without risk.

Arriving at Dyster, Triffany wishes she knew who to thank for this visit to a local region's cultural festival. She stands far from the bonfire in order not to interrupt the dancers, and keeps watching them in rapt attention, jotting down notes in her journal.

As someone approaches, she can't help but share her excitement.]

Isn't it wonderful? A ghost town all in appearance, yet these people continue to live and pass on their traditions to the new generations. [She sighs and smiles at the bonfire.]Makes you feel like you're really in a holy place, eh?

[And continuing in her cheerful Minnesotan tone:] The atmosphere does help distract you from the fact that even a place like this will eventually disappear and everyone who lived here will be forgotten.

[Isn't that nice?]

Wildcard

[Feel free to write up a starter!]

One

[hatif]

[ Tasi has stopped screaming. If Amari's cries haven't reached her by now, then she isn't close enough to hear them, period. She still looks around the open space desperately, a 'Little one, where are you?' and its variations muttered under her breath every so often. Too many directions to go, too little information to say which is the right one. That is, until she thinks she sees a silhouette approaching from the hills. ]

Hello?

[ Her first call is- barely a call at all, tentative, followed immediately by the reminder that what if, Tasi, what if this person isn't friendly, Tasi, Tasi, what if- what if it isn't a person at all? ]

Hello!?!

[ --Tasi waves her hand in the silhouette's direction, anyway.

Well then, she hopes that IT will growl in response just there, so she can get a running start sprinting away from it. This is still a chance she needs to take, right?

.......Of course it could also just be a person. With a gun. A person who doesn't like you. Ask Yasmin. Oh Christ, this was a stupid idea. ]

Please don't be a monster. Please don't shoot me.

Mika Kishii | Twilight Syndrome | OTA

[theinvestigation]

Arrival

[Mika slowly stirs awake and the first thing that hits her is just how bad her head hurts. She starts to groan, but then realizes that her mouth is full of sand. After coughing as much out as she could, she is officially in a foul mood as she starts whining.]

Ugh! How the hell did I get sand in my mouth-

[And then it hits her how weird this situation is.

Waking up alone in a weird place isn’t exactly unusual for Mika, but it wasn’t really usual enough for her to be comfortable in this situation. And usually she at least had an idea of why she woke up in a mysterious place, but this time?

She searched her brain for any reason why she would wake up on a beach, in her school uniform, covered in scratches, but nothing came to mind.

She… she must have been investigating the beach though! Obviously that’s the case! But her friends Yukari and Chisato… why aren’t they here?

… Of course! Clearly they ditched her when she passed out in the sand!]

Yukaaariiii! Chisatoooo! You jerks! You could have at least waited for me to wake up before you went home! I could have drowned for all you know!

[... The silence in response is weirdly deafening. Sure, it’s the middle of the night, but she suddenly feels a weird combination of being painfully alone and like she’s being watched. She shakily sands up and starts walking.]

Hellooooo? Guys? Is there anybody heeeere?

[Her pace quickens as she starts darting around, looking for any sign of life.

Will it be a blessing or a curse if she runs into anyone?]

Research

[All things considered, Mika adjusted to this whole situation quite well. Sure, she really wants to get home and back to her life, and she’s almost positive that her parents are worried sick by now, but when is she gonna have an opportunity like this again!

Honestly though, the worst part about this so far is the reading. Why can’t she have someone like Chisato just ramble to her about the monsters here instead of having to rely on local pamphlets to figure anything out? It truly is tragic that she always has to do anything.

But here she is, sitting on a bench, reading through a ton of pamphlets trying to glean any useful information. She keeps talking to herself and adding her own little notes.

Eventually she gets to one part and just can’t hold it in. She looks to the nearest person and shows them a picture of a menacing bunny with antlers.]

There is no way that a jackalope is actually a monster. Who on earth would be scared by something like this?

Arcade

[Should Mika be concerned about mysterious voices warping her to someplace new?

Yes.

Is she going to care when she’s been warped into a cool arcade?

Fuck no.

Her eyes light up as she looks around the arcade with childish delight.]

No way! I thought this stupid place just had lame stuff, but this is awesome!

[She starts running to look at all the arcade games here, as if blissfully unaware that she might be watched.]

I’ll kick all your asses in Street Fighter!

[Well… do you wanna take her up on the offer?]

Transformation (Shade)

[Mika was aware of the transformation deal for awhile now, but deep down she was hoping she was exempt from turning into a monster.

But tonight, when she was about to get ready for bed, she was suddenly overcome with an intense full body pain. It felt like she was suddenly hit by a truck and she can barely comprehend what’s going on. Her mind felt like a blur and thinking felt impossible to her.

Distantly, she felt the need for fresh air, and stumbled out the door. The air did nothing to alleviate her pain as she collapsed to the ground, hugging her sides.

Then she felt herself changing.

She didn’t know how, but she felt like she was changing. She was feeling lighter somehow, in a way she couldn’t describe.

Mika tried to run a hand through her hair when she stopped in horror, noticing that her hand was now gray, with a shadowy aura around it.

If she could look in the mirror, she would notice that her whole body was turning gray with a mysterious aura.]

W… what’s happening to me?

[For the first time since she got here, Mika is feeling true fear.]

Wildcard

[If you wanna do something else feel free to contact me at blankblankity!]

2 Research

[hatif]

[ Tasi was eager to get any information she could find at first, but these pamphlets were- what, jokes? Or worst case scenarios she couldn't afford on her mind, while she was trying to find a way out. She still skims any new ones she gets her hands on, but the words are mostly lost on her. The paper is what she keeps for her sketches, which should have some actual use in time... ]

--Sorry, what? (...) Oh.

[ She looks over the picture. ]

That depends. Where did they put the scale? If this was ten meters tall, then it would be a good idea to stay well out of its way.

[ A few days ago that idea would have been so absurd, she'd be kidding. Now, well, it's a mixed bag. ]

Jason Todd | DC (derogatory)

[diedonthejob]

SCENARIO ONE (cw: violence, threat of drowning)

[Jason's had plenty of waking nightmares where he's drowning, but usually when he does the water's green which is his first clue that this isn't one of his normal departures from reality. For one thing, this water is clear and tastes like salt instead of primordial magic. For another, when he breaches the surface to cough up a lung and gasp for air he's greeted by the business end of a shotgun instead of the face of the Demon Head's Daughter.]

[Between the two, the shotgun's a lot more inviting. It's also a lot easier to deal with - Jason doesn't even have to think before his acts; thanks to a winning combination of training, skill, and instinct, his body already knows what to do.]

[He disarms the gunman before he can even blink the salt water out of his eyes, has the guy on the ground with a knee on his back and his face pressed down into the surf before he can even think of a witty one-liner to christen the takedown with.]

Hey.

[The man beneath him lets out a muffled yell into the sand as his arm is twisted roughly behind his back, his wrist dragged far too high between his shoulder-blades.]

Mind telling me where we are and what the hell that was about?

[He grabs a fistful of the man's hair with his free hand and jerks his head back out of the wet sand, both so he can sputter out a coherent response and so he can take a good look at where his head is relative to the water.]

Might wanna make it quick, before the tide comes in.


SCENARIO TWO

[Jason has pissed off a whole lot of people over the years, that's just part and parcel of living the sort of life he does and being the kind of person he is, but being chased by an actual honest-to-God mob with pitchforks and torches? That's a new one. It's such an anachronistic cliche that he can't even be mad even while he's casually running for his life and doing all kinds of parkour to try and ditch the locals he managed to piss off just by existing.]

Come on, haven't you guys ever read Frankenstein?


SCENARIO FOUR

[Jason can handle pain. His nervous system is already twelve kinds of fucked up from dying and coming back wrong, having his body break down and reassemble itself was basically just a drop in the bucket. It sucked, he got over it. Story of his life.]

[His only hangup about the whole thing - aside from the general dissatisfaction with being turned into a goddamn monster against his will - is that the transformation process doesn't come with the requisite instincts to properly use his new body.]

[Which is a nice way of saying he somehow turned himself into a tiny little Crimson-breasted shrike and not only does he not know how to turn back, he doesn't know how to fly.]

[So yeah. That's why you might find a puffed up, disgruntled looking little red and black bird hopping on the ground, flapping his wings and treading wind for a few seconds before losing air and flopping back down onto the grass.]

...Awesome. Love this for me.

I - :)

[gray_son]

[It's sundown before he can head out into the peninsula proper to see about the new arrivals. He's taken a tendency towards checking to make sure that no one familiar has arrived - it's bad enough that he, Joey and Tara were here - no need for anymore.]

[He reaches the beach fairly quickly, wet sand hissing under the heat of his feet, scanning the shore line only to stop stock still at the sight on the beach. A man, face down in the wet sand as the tide encroached, and there, squatting over him, fist in his hair-]

[Jason. Little wing. His brother.]

[He doesn't know when he starts running towards him, but he does stop a good bit off, tail flicking, trying to remember his teeth are sharp now as he nearly bites his lip, thinking of what to say.]

[He settles on keeping it simple.]

He won't answer you. They're real militant about how they treat new arrivals.

Mukuro Ikusaba | Danganronpa

[dead_eyed_wolf]

[one:]

[she scrambles out of the water, crawling like an animal, dragging herself across the sand. her breath comes in wheezy, uneven gasps, shallow and much too fast - no sputtering or choking from seawater, just the purest raw panic she's ever felt. she pushes herself up enough to frantically pat herself down - no spears, no rivers of blood, but - the remnants of spatter amongst the jagged holes in her sister's ruined clothes is confirmation enough. she shudders, clasps her hands over her mouth, and curls over herself in a pathetic shaking ball. tiny, half-choked noises just barely escape her, not quite sobs but close enough for someone who grew up knowing she wasn't allowed to make noise.

she should be dead.
she did something wrong and made Junko upset and she should be dead.

(you're such a disappointment you can't even die right, nee-chan), says that poisonous purr in her mind, and she makes a broken desperate sound and curls even tighter, as small as she can make herself.

her stomach roils and she presses her hands harder against her mouth and shakes shakes shakes and thinks for a moment that she really might die right here in the end. she can't breathe.

when she does finally manage another shallow gasp, it brings the acrid sting of gunpowder, and that sparks a more immediate and familiar fear. her head jerks up, eyes wide, immediately on edge, trying to discern whoever else is sharing this beach with her.]



[or, wildcard]
[Always open for other prompts. Hit me up at triskahyena if you'd like!]

[luckless]

[Despite the scent of gunpowder suffusing the salty air, Mukuro won't find anyone with a firearm nearby. Instead, the threat comes from behind, masked by the sound of crashing surf and the gentle lap of waves at the sandy beach she stands on. From the water, a figure rises—yellow scaled, with flesh-hair and fins like kelp.

From the water, he walks towards her a bit awkwardly, with his tail half-fused to his legs. It's an awkward process, but in a sort of "therapy", Komaeda has been baiting out his changes to get them over faster; but that's not really the focus right now. He lifts his lone hand up, pushing the heavy tendrils from his face as he (unintentionally) sneaks up on her.]

Hello there!

[His voice buoys with cheeriness, as a smile comprised of too-big needle teeth splits across his face.]

Did you just get here?

[He absolutely does not take into account that he could spook someone.]

Daniel Dickens | Angels of Death

[doctorize]

one

[So waking up drenched on a sandy beach in an unknown location is a pretty rude awakening for most, probably, though Danny appears to be taking it rather well.

And by that, we mean he's bitching about the sand as he shakes his lab coat out, apparently more bothered by that than the fact that he's in Ryslig.]

Honestly, if we're going to be brought back again, can't she at least deposit me somewhere less troublesome? It's absolutely dreadful getting sand in one's clothing, let alone near one's eyes...

two

[So, he's human again... for now, though he assumes it's only a matter of time before Danny starts shifting back to a vampire like he was before the last time he had been in this place. Still, that doesn't bring him any comfort like it would have before, surprisingly, but not because he actually misses the taste of blood--he misses the strength that came with it, something that is costly to be lacking here given that during his previous stay... well, Danny definitely pissed off at least one or two people that know what he's really like past his friendly doctor persona.

He scrolls through the network on his device, hesitating for a moment regarding how he should announce his return. How many people were still here that would even remember him? Was any of the people that Danny even liked still around? Was that man still here, and did he even miss Danny while he was gone...

Eventually, Danny settles on keeping the message generic: giving away that he's someone who has been here before, but not saying his name yet and simply waiting to see who recognizes his old username first.]

un: doctorize

I have a question for those of you who have been here before, but then have memories of returning home briefly. Did you become the same type of creature you were before, or did you change into something completely different upon your return? I'm curious to know if I should expect the same changes I had before, or be prepared for new ones this time.

three; wildcard

[Is there something else you want to thread with Danny? Feel free to hit me up here! I'm on plurk at wailords as well.]

< r.gardner >

[sweartoyou]

[Well, she most certainly won't be hanging out at the beach, between all the sand and the water. So!

...This could be...hm. More trouble than she cared to deal with. Depending on some things.]

So you came in as a human, too... I became the same monster.

What sort of memories, doctor? What floor were you last on?

[Would it have changed how things were...?]

Kai Hiwatari | Beyblade

[phoenixhearted]

[ ooc: I've taken Kai from the end of season one, so he's 12 years old here! cw: potential for mentions of child abuse to come up during the thread. ]

ARRIVAL

[ When Kai wakes up on a strange beach he doesn’t recognize, with the barrel of a gun pointed right in his face… he doesn’t want to admit it to himself, but – he’s afraid. Who wouldn’t be?

It’s a feeling that’s sickeningly familiar – one that feels like home. But Kai also knows that fear is a useless emotion in this kind of situation. So he represses it – pushing it down completely as he quietly analyses the situation.

It’s a process that comes far too easily to him. And he knows exactly knows why. ]

…I haven’t even said anything, and you’re pointing a gun in my face? That’s rude.

[ His voice is calm, carefully controlled, and he’s seemingly unconcerned by his situation, judging by the attitude he doesn’t hesitate to give. But he’s being careful not to make any sudden movements; not to raise his voice – in other words, not to do anything that would give his attacker reason to shoot. He’s not stupid. He knows that he’s defenseless in this situation. ]

What do you want with me? Where is this?

[ …Unfortunately, the man with the gun doesn’t seem one for rational conversation. Kai watches as his face darkens, and his shaking finger grips the trigger tightly – and for a moment, Kai can feel his stomach drop. He feels fear, true fear, as he realizes that this might be where he dies.

Unless someone steps in to save him… this might be the end. ]

SCENARIO TWO

This all feels like some kind of bad joke.

[ Kai mutters to himself as he wanders aimlessly around, trying to get a better understanding of where exactly it is he’s found himself. In his hands, he clutches one of the pamphlets that’s been handed to him... one that explains just what kind of situation he’s found himself in bluntly and clearly.

He’s becoming a monster. Or so he’s been told.

Frankly, it seems impossible. Absurd. It’s more than likely that he’s being lied to, and that this is some strange attempt to psyche him out, but… at this point, who can say? More importantly…

Without a doubt, he can tell – the people looking at him are afraid. They’re afraid of him. And that’s what’s unsettling more than anything else. ]

Oi. [ He turns to you and stops you, without a hint of emotion showing on his face. Maybe he recognizes that you’re not afraid of him in the way that everyone else is – or maybe he just doesn’t care. ] I understand this ridiculous situation, but… I have a few questions about this place. Can you help me?

SCENARIO FOUR

[ It hurts.

There’s a hunger inside Kai. He doesn't know when it started, but it’s consuming him. The sensation is both familiar and unfamiliar, and it reminds him of the worst time in his life – of being consumed by his lust for power, uncaring what he had to do to get it, or how he might hurt anyone else. Yet… despite in some ways being such an achingly familiar feeling, it’s also one that’s completely alien to him. No, the hunger he's feeling now... might even be worse.

He knows, in this moment, that all the things he’s been told about this place are true. He knows what’s happening to him. But… what is he supposed to do about it? How is he supposed to stop it?

This craving… this desire to hurt somebody else… it’s too much to take. It’s too much! But he can’t give in. He won’t, not again!! Otherwise… Team BBA… how is he supposed to look them in the eyes again?

It’s laughable. Kai wants to laugh, but instead he squeezes his eyes shut and digs his nails into his sides, hissing once more at the pain. When did he start caring so much about other people? The old him would’ve embraced this power, this new identity, without a doubt. Now, the very thought of it makes Kai feel sick.

He’s scared. He’s alone. And as he notices you and looks up, a shocked expression comes over Kai, the fear he’s feeling written all over his face. For the first time since he’s arrived here, he looks like the child he is. ]

You…!!

WILDCARD

[ Feel free to throw anything you'd like at Kai here! You can PM me if you'd like to plot, or just surprise me if you'd rather. I'm up for anything! ]

2

[huntun]

[ Finally back in his normal clothes, that is to say, quite abnormal clothes compared to everyone else - it is a set of layered robes, very flowy, very white, though there are unmistakable signs of wear from the rough nature of the arrival - Chu Wanning stops in his tracks and glances at Kai from where he is standing.

He doesn't incline his head as any decent sort of polite manners would dictate, and he almost seems to be looking down on him in an almost haughty, unapproachable way. But he did stop for him, so maybe that's enough? ]

What do you want?

chu wanning | dumb husky and his white cat shizun

[huntun]

》 one

[ If there is something he hated, it is being cold. But as all the luck in the universe seems to be dead set against him, that is how Chu Wanning wakes up - with a mouthful of salt water, his robes dripping wet and heavy around him as he pushes himself up to sitting waist deep in sand and swirling foam, alone on strange shores.

At first, he is confused, so much so that he thinks he may be dreaming - but then a fresh wave of freezing cold water hits him dead on in the middle of his back, drenching him from head to toe, and Chu Wanning thinks, if this is a dream, then he could make this disappear in an instant - but it does not.

Shivering, he pulls himself to his feet; vainly, he looks for any signs of life around who could answer his questions, but there is none. There is darkness all around, the night sky and the faint hint of mountain hills and the ocean all blending in different shades of black.

Ah well, he will simply have to summon up that pesky dragon and get him to take him to the nearest town. Thankfully, his talisman pouch is still intact - although he is thoroughly soaked, thankfully the contents within the pouch is dry, allowing Chu Wanning to undo the knot holding it closed with stiff fingers and pull out a charm. ]

...

[ Just what was wrong with it? Was he mad because he gave it a few little sharp words last time? But he would always come out if only to gloat at his bedraggled appearance, once he had a peek at the state Chu Wanning was in.

He tries it again, brows drawing in a sharp frown when the dragon fails to respond, and Chu Wanning resists temptation to stomp his feet and raise his voice.

If there is anyone else in the beach, lost or otherwise, they would see faint sort of a pale figure, like a wispy ghostly figure, and some sharp, cut off sounds of frustration. ]

》 two

Thank you.

[ Chu Wanning says stiffly, clad in some rough work shirt and pants in some scratchy material he doesn't recognise. It is a far cry from the loose, silky fabric he is used to wearing, both in cut and the feel of it, and Chu Wanning occasionally moves to adjust, drawing the collars of the shirt closer against him before frowning and pushing it away, then back again after a moment. His own robes are off somewhere drying, and hopefully will be returned to him soon mostly worse for wear.

He is also holding a lap full of brochures in his hands, and he glances at the titles in a manner of someone who is curious, but doesn't want to let on that he is curious. ]

As soon as my clothes are dry, I will go my own way.

[ He glances upwards, and while exceedingly handsome, it's clear that Chu Wanning doesn't really have any idea how to use that to his advantage; he's already made two little kids cry with just looking at them, and that hasn't really endeared himself to the townsfolk any more than a raging werebear had terrorised them. ]

Do you have a map of the region?

》 wildcard

[ any other ideas for starter, you can pm me to discuss and we can hash it out! chu wanning is good at: machinery, calligraphy, fighting, interrogation, generally looking cool, making children cry. he is not good at: making friends, being likeable, laundry, cooking, other things that make a well adjusted human being. come at me! ]

Re: 1

[fishfairy]

[ Runyu can no longer remain in the woods for long after his full transformation, and after he’s learned to use his wings, he finds himself drawn again and again to the lakes and even the ocean. Usually at night where he is most comfortable and can pretend to be free of the peril that comes with this world. If only for a fleeting moment. And so, Runyu views the white figure upon the beach. A late arrival?

Runyu hesitates at revealing himself when his luna moth wings are tinged in red from the fog but the vulnerable part of his heart won’t allow himself to ignore someone in need. He closed his eyes before focusing on the ground. Dressed in traditional white robes reminiscent of the new arrival, Runyu alights on the ground a few feet from the frustrated arrival, folding large luna moth wings, pale green with red streaks, behind him. He offers the man a bow. ]

If you are attempting a summoning, friend, it will not be successful here.

Kazutaka Muraki | Descendants of Darkness

[fullmoonkiller]

Scenario One: cw: murder

[ Finding himself on a shore drenched and covered in sand is an unfortunate turn of events, but the discomfort isn't enough reason to ignore a fool and some lackeys aiming a handgun at him. Muraki's gaze is shaded by his platinum bangs as the man sneers at him through clenched teeth.

But of course he has to taunt his prey, and that's where he makes his mistake.

As the poor fellow opens his mouth to brag, Muraki moves quickly, grabbing his arm and twisting it. The gun goes off and one of his friends screams. Muraki smirks, pinching a nerve in his arm, and taking a hold of it when his grip loosens. He leans down to whisper into the man’s ear. ]

What a weak hold. Do you really think you can commit murder that easily?

Get off, you monster.

Monster? With such a title, one would have to assume that even on the ground I still had power over you. No wonder I have the weapon now. But if you wish.

[ Keeping the gun to the man’s head, Muraki stands and flings him into his friends. Brushing sand from his hair with his free hand, the doctor’s aim stays on the disarray of bodies in front of him. They’ve fallen silent, and perhaps their leader is even shaking. Muraki chuckles. ]

And farewell.

[ He pulled the trigger, sending one backwards, blood running down from the shot in his head. ]

Scenario 4: (cw: body horror)

[ Muraki’s pocket knife falls from his fingers onto the pavement and he falls to the ground. His whole body jerks as some invisible force stretches his spinal cord. Grimacing with a chuckle, he reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out a syringe. It seems it’s time. Doctors have told him that pain inhibitors will only take the edge off momentarily but he doesn’t want to miss this by passing out. It’s too great an opportunity to study this power. He stabs himself before falling over again.

He laughs weakly, hands tearing at the ground beneath him as the force continues to pull at each bone along his back, as if his body is just a clay beneath its fingers, a rough shape to mold into its true form. As if there’s nothing living inside already. What an ironic, brilliant choice when he has toyed with humans in much the same way back home!

As his vision wavers, Muraki reaches out for his pocket knife at his side, only for his hand to halt and contort, twist before his eyes, as if undergoing a seizure. Then it stops. Lancing pain burns through his fingers and claws push out from the base of his fingernails.

Muraki’s muted curse erupts into a horrendous laugh of madness as his whole back rips open, blood cascading down his clothes and a great scorpion tail unfurling on top of his bloody hide.

Drenched in blood as he has been so many times before! ]

Wildcard

[ Contact me for more scenarios. Here is his opt-out list.]

taako | the adventure zone: balance | returning character

[pocketspa]

1; network

< pocketspa >
so losirs, losettes, and lonbinaries of ryslig just tryin to play a little catchup here after foggie decided to throw me into her piss poor version of the astral plane for a year or whatever
who has my spaceship
i know as soon as lulu and i got out somebody stole that shit or moved in and went through all my stuff
which like i get it i would too but chaboy is back and im gonna bring 20 feet of whoopass so come out with whatever you call hands in the air before i lose it
capiche

2; bavan

[Generally speaking, it's not odd to see monsters in Bavan; just because they're in the minority doesn't mean that they're unknown. Others may slink about or try to downplay themselves, but that's not who Taako is even a little bit. Which means today, you're going to be treated to a large, sparkly snake stretched out across just about the entire patio of a local cafe, his long tail splayed over chairs and tables like he owns the place. He's got sunglasses on and appears to be idly reading a newspaper, but it might just be there for show. If you stop to stare (or maybe ask him what he's doing), he'll tilt the shades down just enough to expose his eyes and overdramatic inquisitive eyebrows.]

Patio's closed for brunch, buddy. You wanna come around here you better find another time where the sun doesn't hit so nice.

[... Wait, maybe that 'newspaper' is a tanning shade.]

[ooc: feel free to hit me up at cancerously if you want any additional plotting! trying not to get into full reunion threads here to save them for the return but hit me up to mess about :V]

2

[broken_sword]

[Raphtalia was checking out the cafe, but the sight of a huge familiar snake catches her attention. Even as he speaks, she just stares back like she's seen a ghost. Her mouth hangs open, and within a few seconds, her eyes start to fill with tears.]

Taako!!

[She lunges and... only manages to wrap her arms around part of Taako's snake body.]

It's you, it's really you!!

Commander Peepers || Wander Over Yonder

[optic_nerd]

SCENARIO ONE

Commander Peepers awoke with a start. He had no idea where he was, no memory of coming here. He was immediately on edge.

Quickly getting to his feet, he realized he body was not his own. Looking down at himself, he was proportioned all wrong. His eye seemed to be off center, and touching his face confirmed that and more. His mouth and eye were separated, and he had a nose.

Peepers was not amused. Who or what had body swapped him had made a grave mistake messing with Commander Peepers of the Hater Empire!

Just then he heard he click of an old-fashioned gunpowder weapon behind him. Whipping around, Peepers grabbed for his own laser gun to point at the threat, an alien species he didn't recognize, one much taller than himself.

"Halt! This is Commander Peepers of the Hater Emprie! Lower your weapon- huh?"

Peepers' laser gun wasn't in his hands. He patted himself over, looking for it but it was missing.

"...Heh...uh. Maybe we can talk this out?" He asked the local pointing a shotgun at him, nervously glancing around for anything he could use to his advantage.


SCENARIO TWO

As Peepers was accosted by people giving him gifts, he was somewhat surprised, but went along with it. At least these aliens knew to respect someone of his station!

"Hmph! At least some of the people on this planet know to respect someone of my station!" Peepers proclaimed proudly.

"Ehem! Listen up!" Peepers continued, clapping his hands to get the crowd's full attention. "While all of this is certainly lovely," he paused a moment, thoroughly uncomfortable with speaking from a separate orifice than his eye, "I need to return to Lord Hater as well as get my own body back. Where is the closest spaceport? Is there a wizard or something in this town who's skilled with bodily transformations?"

The people were silent, exchanging uncomfortable glances with each other. Slowly one of them approached and handed him a pamphlet titled 'Her Fogginess has Plans for You'

"...." Peepers stared at it. "...What the grop is this?"


SCENARIO THREE

A follower, human or monster, has invited Peepers into Dyster. The two were making their way to the center of town where there was a small party being held in the Fog's honor.

As they went, Peepers took in his surroundings. Wooden dilapidated housing, dirt roads, various livestock, a well, etc. He scowlled.

"What a dump." He muttered under his breath.

Upon reached the festivities, his opinion of the place didn't improve. Dirty people dancing around a bonfire wasn't his idea of fun.

"Bunch of filthy hippies! Why not spend their time fixing their homes instead of playing?" His last word was said in a childishly mocking tone while waving his hands. With a roll of his eye, he looked up at the person who brought him here.

"Is this seriously how the fog people operate? They're disgusting!"


SCENARIO FOUR

His first changes came to him in his sleep, in the middle of the night. Peepers had gotten a room in one of the group homes for monsters, many of whom are about to regret having rooms close to his.

The immense and sudden pain is what made Peepers wake with a scream. At first he didn't know what was happening. Was he being attacked?! Yanking the gun out from under his pillows, Peepers shot in the direction he thought the attacker was coming from.

Obviously nothing changed, the pain only getting worse, making Peepers crumple in agony. He heard the door to his room burst open but was too weak to react.

"Who's there! Get away!" he yelled. The person coming in will see that Peepers' whole body was erupting into crystal spikes, a clear sign of turning into a troll.

1

[cratecrasher]

[One or both parties of this one-side standoff might catch the sound of heavy footsteps along the beach that speed up. Whether or not the human aims their gun toward the approaching beast-

The way this monster abruptly spins as his first instinct is very distinctive. His fists are a blur against the hapless human as the impact sends them flying. In a lucky smooth motion after stopping, the newbie's swine-like savior also catches the shotgun (surprising themselves) and peers down at it curiously before gazing over at Peepers.]

Rhaegar Targaryen || A Song of Ice and Fire

[foughtvaliantly]

I. Scenario One

[It was the taste of salt water that woke him. When Rhaegar had collapsed on the banks of the Trident, sand and water filled his mouth, but it was fresh water mixed with his blood. The sea was far from him...or so he thought. There was an ache in his chest, the weight of Robert's hammer still ringing through his body. His armor felt heavier as he struggled to get to his knees, scanning around him for signs of battle or sounds of a threat.

There was only silence.

With his head still spinning and the sensation of death not far from his senses, he could only sit in the water and try to gather some semblance of lucidity. Where was he exactly? Ser Barristan was gone, Robert was gone and the Battle of the Trident was gone, as though they were nothing more than smoke, let out through an open window, leaving no residue or sense they were ever there.

Eventually, his legs started to ache and the armor grew too heavy. He tugged at the straps, pulling off his ruined chest armor for the mail underneath. Given the long, tedious task, it wouldn't take long for someone else to come on him, but he wasn't too concerned with threat or foes. What did it matter now, wherever he was? He was dead.]

You don't need to keep a distance. I'm no threat.

II. Scenario Three

['Seek us out.'

He was never one to turn down prophecy or magic beckoning him. Rhaegar followed the directive of the voice, slightly aware he could be finding further trouble in a place where people did not seem to readily trust or believe his intentions. Listening to random voices likely wouldn't help with that, but he wasn't about to resist.

Coming upon the dancing figures in Dyster, Rhaegar stood to the back for a time, watching both the bonfire and the revelry. The ritual meant little to him, it was the exuberance and joy that drew him, piercing his normally gloomy demeanor. It wasn't too far a scene from Harrenhall, when the realm had gathered to celebrate ostensibly. A small sweet moment before everything soured...

He pushed the images away, focusing on those around them. There was no real music, but he always carried his silver harp at his back. Seating himself on a nearby rock, he played for the others to dance to, feeling a small sense of joy as their movements began to follow his tempo. They were speaking to the skies above, but he was lost in song, the music he always loved:]

"High in the halls of the kings who are gone, Jenny would dance with her ghosts ..."

III. Wildcard

[Feel free to choose another scenario. I'm open for anything. Craft your own adventure!]

ii

[reignfall]

⟪ Seek us out, and why should she not? She wields magic now, and her claws are golden and sharp as all the rest of her. Her hair is bound low, reaching just to her hips as it ever had, and her dress is a lion's red – though its cut suits the fashions of this world, thus ending just below her knees. She is dressed, then, for a spring day's walk, and the cause and reason for it toddles about at her feet: Tybolt, her lion cub, is pouncing into tall grass and merrily chasing all that will come into sight.

Yet her eyes are set on Dyster, where she has not cast her shadow before. Oddly, it seems caught in some revelry on this day, and that, too, draws her near: she misses the busy celebrations oat court, even if they are half lies and fully drunk. Of her safety, though, she feels assured, her door here can be locked to all, there is no king. There is not her brother, either, a truth she grieves, and there is not her lord father, a thought that brings a new sort of exuberance to freedom.

She hears the strings first, sees the movements of the people change, and then the air around is turned to silver. Had she not turned her face from the Trident, when last she had crossed it in her wheelhouse? There is a dull ache to the sound of this voice, his voice, a voice that had made her weep more than once. Her and plenty of other ladies, she thinks bitterly, but the bitterness cannot quell her longing. She must know if it is true. She must know if she is merely mad or truly –

No, there he is, the wrong man to fall, and all of him is striking, and all of him cannot be real. She bends only to pick up her lion, as if looking for some manner of reassurance by cradling a soft bundle of fur, but even the animal has gone quiet and still at the sound of his voice.

Then, she straightens: she is the queen. Queen of seven kingdoms and not one less, alive and victorious, and she may demand any amount of attention that she wishes for. ⟫

It has been some time since I last had the pleasure to hear you sing. ⟪ Her voice is steadier than her heart, her bearing noble as ever – though lacking decorum. She ought to not interrupt, at least, she ought to address him for what he is. ⟫

Nie Huaisang | Mo Dao Zu Shi

[sheathedclaws]

2

Panic is just the surface of his life right now, even as people approach him, his expression clearly upset as he tries to ask questions, not getting the responses he wants in favor of pamphlets shoved at him. "I don't.... Can't you just tell me where I am? How do I get home?" His voice does carry, pamphlets held against his chest as he looks around.

His hair is a mess, robes salt stiff and his discomfort is more than clear as he stands there, before finally starting to move again. Offered food does at least get a slight nod, his stomach settling once he'd eaten the offered pastry.

"I want to go home...."

4

He'd actually read the information after calming down, but still, knowing it was coming hadn't changed his initial reaction to the alternations, namely bursting into tears when he woke up to find himself with not only wings but also half the size he'd been when he'd fallen asleep.

Although once he's had some time to calm down and leave, his size almost back to normal, he's twisting to try and look at his wings critically.

4

[legbreakings]

The Simulacrum isn't one to go out of his way and offer help to random people, least of all when there are emotions involved, or even worse, the danger of tears.

But here is this man, obviously unused to his new monster form, making a nuisance of himself right in front of him on the sidewalk trying to get a good look at his wings. Wings with which he has almost smacked Jiang Cheng in the face twice while he tries to move past him.

"Do you want me to rip them off so you can look?" he huffs, his gramophone recording-like voice even more staticky than usual in his annoyance, and raises a hand to bat the wing away as the next twirl nearly gets him in the face again.

Other than the voice, he looks human enough though still unusual by Ryslig standards, wearing purple robes and a silver guan, Zidian at his left hand while the right is gloved. There is only a sliver of stark white, looking conspicuously like porcelain rather than painted skin, peeking out from beneath the high collar of his robes. He carries a sword, albeit it is unadorned unlike Sandu.

David | Animorphs

[oftgoawry]

[I haven't bothered with iconnnns he's a 16-year-old with blond hair and brown eyes, probably undersized and underfed. Not a rodent.]

1
[The beach again, David thinks as he wakes up. Was it all some kind of hallucination, and he's never left the island? Typical. Typical, nothing ever goes his way - did someone chew off his whiskers? He can't feel the air properly. And other things are... wrong...

When he hears sand crunch nearby David springs to all fours, arching his back and baring his teeth to hiss. From a rat, it's a show of strength and vigor and quite intimidating to other rats. From a human, not so much.]

2a
[Two years as a rat have left a mark. David likes to be close to walls that he rakes with his fingers, he pauses to sniff the air a lot, his posture is weird. If the whole process for turning into monsters wasn't so well established, it'd be easy to assume he's started just because he's so awkward in a human body. Smell and hearing and touch have been his primary senses for too long to shrug off the downgrade, to feel anything but diminished, but on the other hand the vividness of colors and the ability to see so clearly at a distance sometimes gets to be too much to pretend to take in stride and he stares in wonder, blinking hard. There's a desperate attention to people moving and talking, a quick nervous smile whenever he's first addressed. He bites into a sweet pastry and has to brush away tears that he's astonished to be able to shed. Then he'll lick his hands clean and clasp them and just say it out loud:]

Crayak - uh - great lord Crayak, benevolent Eye, if you're watching me now and this isn't just to yank it away again... this is perfect. Don't put me back. Please don't put me back, I'll do anything.

2b
[So you might see David doing that, or absolutely basking and loving it as the friendlier locals butter him up, or giving passing monsters a long speculating look that he doesn't think is very obvious. Or hunching over and running from less friendly locals, clumsy as he relearns how to be a biped, panting and snarling back at them.]

I'll remember this! I'll remember you!

2B | Hello! Fellow... uh. Well bandicoots are called "pig rats", close enough

[cratecrasher]

One incredibly bright orange pig monster doesn't seem to mind the not-so inconspicuous look aimed within his direction. Maybe because they're trying to keep business going at their humble makeshift stand.

No instead, the hog waves. But it's up to the kid if he comes over to inspect the alien purple drinks that a few native customers don't seem to mind drinking. The offered juices and more adult-oriented brews come in various hues of that strange color judging from the assortment of perfectly normal fruits.

... The color seems to be coming from the juice and flesh of odd tropical-colored peaches.

Jaime Lannister | A Song of Ice and Fire

[perforo]

one

[ A beach. When was the last time he'd woken up on a beach? Times beyond counting at the Rock - after leaping from the cliffs, there would be some sliver of shore to wash up on. Trails meandering down a pebbled beach, dangerously slick rocks to climb, and there were beaches in Lannisport, too. But rarely does he come-to fully dressed, drenched down to the bone, sputtering on the sea's salt as if he had found himself here by mistake, and not by some grandiose feat of his own doing. He doesn't ever wake up with a mouthful of sand, like he had stumbled, or been shipwrecked.

That is exactly how he finds himself now, and the air is not as he remembers it from so many years ago. Here it is heavy, sticky, stifling, and he begins to realize, slowly, that his skin is stinging. Everywhere, all over - there are cuts and scrapes as if small fangs have raked him, and he winces as he pulls himself up, remembering his feet. What sort of beast could have dragged him into the sea? He must have vanquished it - that is why he's the one here, with no body nearby. There is, quite literally, nobody nearby.

But there are lights, when he pauses to squint into the dark. Campfires? Torches? They're too far to tell. There's a strange scent woven into the heavy blanket that is the air, and when his hand falls to his hip, it does not land on the pommel of his sword. Neither is he encased in golden armor, although given how he'd just crawled from the water, that might be a boon. The same cannot be said for the absence of his sword. That leaves him only his hands, and he has never known what to do with them when they are empty. ]

three

[ It is humiliating before it is anything else. It is infuriating, as well, and somewhere far below, there is a flicker of something very much like fear. Seek us out - was this the same mad whisper his king had heard in the days that spiraled him deeper and deeper into his black well, from which he had never returned? Was this all he heard, too? Seek us out. Who, and where? For what? He would have been grateful to have at least one answer. There are fires burning, and madmen cavorting about them. The sky is full of song, none of which he knows; he does not know this place at all. A dream, then, or a fever.

With his sword or his wits he could have carved out a piece of sense, he could have demanded a piece of sense, but he is without either. Did he lose the blade in some fray, or was it stolen? None of the bodies ringed around the fires wear scabbards. Why? Are they fools, or only peasants? Seek us out. His rising irritation does little to quiet the voice. It is insistent, brittle as old steel. Yes, this must have been how the Mad King felt. Cowed by the voices in his own head, almost driven to wish aloud for them to stop. Unarmed, and losing.

He has never taken his defeats so softly, and he will not forfeit this fight now, if in fact a fight it is. There are fires burning and so there are people, and one of them will have to speak to him. He knows nothing of this fervent rapture of religion, if that is what it is, and is loath to take any part. But if they have song then they might also have steel, and he braces himself against that smooth, beckoning whisper in his head, even as he heeds it, beginning to seek. ]

four

[ It began with bristling - real, animal bristling. Rage had always prickled like fire along the nape of his neck, dancing where vicious spikes or hackles would have risen if he were a beast instead of a man. Now, however, it is a shiver of energy that gives itself over to a thickening of fur that bristles like the neck of any wolf or cornered cat. Bloodlust, too, has only ever been a phantom sensation: he could always feel his blood rising readily enough, but never as it roused through the thick coats of the beasts. Now it did - now there was, as if some rabid prayer had been answered, fur gathering across the tops of his shoulders, trailing down the tops of his arms. He can feel it growing too across his back, an arrangement of fur that bristles like his nape when he is full of restless motion, which is often. Always.

His teeth have abandoned their oldest and ever-assumed form: where his tongue had always found flat edges, save for two anachronistic points, there is now a mouth full of dagger's tips. His tongue follows the silhouettes of fangs, now, where there had only ever been a man's teeth. A lion's maw, he might have been proud to think, if he'd woken from what was nothing more than a dream. He might have even wished for it to be true, once, knowing it could never be. What knight would scoff at these gifts? His eyes can pierce the dark as he'd never been able to in the city, or in the black, deafening silence of any midnight woods. He is deaf now, it seems, to nothing. The calls of birds, even when he cannot see them; the crunching of footsteps long before a body approaches; the sea, beneath all else, and the wild, ranging scents of so many things he does not know. For this he should also be grateful: he had always wondered how his hounds found the world when they were turned loose, free to take what they would.

With the hunger that has grown in his belly, he almost feels as if he has been turned loose, no different from a hunting beast. But the lions he knew had always been caged, and kept in darkness. He does not know what to do with this rippling of lean muscle, the bristling of fur, a gnawing hunger, an urge to give chase, and teeth that might very well tear through flesh. ]

prince xie / scorpion king (word of honor)

[dontfailme]

((ooc: Will mark all spoilers and try to avoid most. Minor spoilers in the toplevel.))

i.

[The tips of Scorpion's fingertips are cold, but he expected them to be colder. Before opening his eyes he claws at the ground with both hands. From touch alone it's easy to tell that he isn't laying face down in snow, but sand. He hasn't gone completely numb to the cold. The cold isn't there - only a chill breeze across wet clothing.

Face first in the sand is no way for someone of his standing to be seen, regardless. It's an embarrassment. He pushes himself up, turning his head to the side as he does so in order to spit a few grains free from his mouth. At least there doesn't appear to be much of a crowd.

The unfamiliarity of the place causes him to narrow his eyes. He hadn't been anywhere near water last he remembered. If someone had brought him here he would have expected to find himself in either a bed or a cell. Unless he's literally washed up on the shores of the underworld, this is highly confusing.

His clothing isn't suited for water and sand. His boots squelch uncomfortably and his robes are heavier than they have any right to be. They'll weigh him down. He removes his outer garment, all black leather and fringe, and tucks it over one arm. It will be a shame if he has to abandon it later, but there are worse losses to take. For now, he'll begin heading toward the lights in the distance. And hopefully answers.]

ii.

[He doesn't trust the food.

With all the talk of becoming a monster (and actually seeing other monsters), Scorpion isn't about to accept anything edible from a stranger. Food and drink is the easiest way to spread a poison. He would know. He's done it often enough. If this is anything like the drug men, whatever causes people to change could simply be in the food they're given.

One might think that would be too simple, that it would have been called out a long time ago, but it's often surprising how easy it is for others to overthink things. Until he knows better, he won't be eating anything in any of these gift baskets.

He does finally take one, but doesn't let his bare skin touch anything inside it. The man puts on a smile and turns to the nearest confused looking individual, someone who might be getting as much attention as he is.]

My stomach is too sensitive for this, I'm afraid. Would you like some?

iii.

[This isn't where he'd been, and this shift from one place to another with no explanation is getting tiresome.

There are people dancing. He avoids them. He's not interested in partying and barging into their revelry isn't bound to get him the sorts of answers he's looking for.]

I don't feel like playing around anymore. [Scorpion raises his voice in the fog, but the air is heavy and he's not certain how far it might have traveled.]

Come out and face me!

wildcard.

((Anything else!))

2

[littlesneaky]

[ Chengling is not at all liking the situation he's found himself in. He couldn't find Shifu and there was nothing familiar about this place at all. He finds reading materials and food being shoved at him. He keeps trying to politely decline, finding just the titles of the pamphlets unsettling enough that he has no desire to read them and he doesn't know that he should trust any of the food here at all... He turns around suddenly at the sound of a familiar voice.

Why him?

The other hadn't been speaking to him and as Chengling stares at him and he's trying to decide between a confrontation or trying to hide before he's noticed and the indecision has him frozen in place for far too long. ]

Jack | jack and the cuckoo-clock heart

[paxton_doll]

|scenario four| test monster: simulacrum |

[It had been a hard day and jack needed to rest, it was well into the night and an anxious feeling had been keeping him up. That was when a weird feeling had started in his fingertips and soon spread to his hand and up his arm. It felt like his arm was trying to turn itself inside out, he clutched it as an immediate response.]

What the?

[He spat his words out as if they were the only ones brave enough to crawl up his throat. He gasped for air as it spread to the side of his neck and touched his face. The pain was unbearable, removing his arm all together would have been preferred at this point. His heart was ticking fast and he felt dizzy and sick. Eventually it slowed and the pain got to a point he could calm down.]
...
[He took a deep breath]
...
[He slowly turned his arm over to see an opening with gears and a band that moved as he twisted his arm around to get a good look. There was a similar opening around his shoulders and on his chest, he poked at the gears and just relaxed. He was still in pain but at least now it wasn't as bad, he was mostly felt disoriented and exhausted.]

Why did this transformation thing have to start now?
Disregarding the fact I need to rest it could have at least started later on.
What am I supposed to say when I see miss Acacia again?
With more parts of me spinning and ticking like my heart, making me more of freak than I already was.
I might not even see her again.

[A tinge of anger colored his voice as his heart sputtered. He took a deep breath before continuing.]

The best I can hope for is that she comes here.
Maybe if she does she wont be as bothered by all this since it will be so common.
Maybe she wont even be bothered at all, she is nicer than I'm giving her credit for right now.

[With that he just look up into the clear night sky as tiredness ate at him, he just sadly looked around before giving in and falling asleep. He hoped that in the morning he would wake up in the world he should be in, with just his heart turning and ticking and back with miss Acacia.]

[pendulumentertainment]

[Yuya isn't fast to approach. Not by any means. But he hears the boys voice, and he at least understands the pain, at least somewhat, when it comes to losing your humanity.

He approaches slowly. The cold night air doesn't bug him anymore and he's sure it's not just because he's covered in fur.]

... Are you okay?

[He couldn't really think of what else to ask...]

Zhang Chengling | Word of Honor

[littlesneaky]

Scenario One

[ When Chengling comes back to consciousness, he coughs and spits trying to get all the sound of his mouth. He's incredibly thirsty and it seems that everywhere there are scratches and scrapes and they're burning. He manages to push himself up, stumbling a little at first and then taking in his surroundings as best as he could. It's rather dark and his heart races with fear that he's stubbornly trying to ignore.

He's fine. This is fine. ]

Shifu...?

[ He calls out, a few times actually but there's no response. Is he alone here? There are lights in the distance and so he starts heading that way, calling out for his master periodically as he goes. ]

Scenario Two

Chengling is overwhelmed by the natives' welcome. He politely accepts quite a few things before he's trying to find a place to get away from them. He ducks his head and moves as quickly and quietly as he can searching for a less populated area before stopping.

He pulls out one of the pamphlets and starts flipping through it with his brows furrowed.

Wildcard

[ Anything else is good to go! Hit me with your best shot. I'll match tenses and styles. ]

Re: Scenario Two

[killedsupers]

Syndrome isn’t exactly sure what is going on that has people trying to shove food and trinkets into his hands while he makes his way through the town. He turns everything down, not trusting the people’s intentions or his senses, and tries to get away from the crowd that has gathered around him, ducking into an alleyway. If this were any other situation, like publicly defeating his omnidroid in a spectacular battle for example, all the attention would be welcomed, but as it stands, Syndrome only finds it disorienting after waking up in this strange new world.

He spots someone else tucked away in the same alley, looking through a pamphlet and appearing just as out of place here as he does. The other probably has no idea what is going on either, but Syndrome is willing to take a chance and, hopefully, start getting some answers.

“Hey,” he calls out, approaching the other. “Some locals, am I right? It’s like they’ve never seen anyone else come through town!”

He chuckles, deciding to act friendly. At least, for the time being.

“Now, I know you are probably new here too and — wait, hold up.” He stops and points to the pamphlet the other has in his hands. “Where did you get that? Did the crowd out there give it to you? They were trying to give me food and crap, but nothing actually useful!”

Syndrome | The Incredibles

[killedsupers]

(Scenario One)

There is pain. Immeasurable amount of pain. A pain that comes from bones being crushed and muscles being shredded into ribbons as he’s sucked into the jet turbine. He tries to scream but smoke rushes into his lungs instead and then there’s heat, so much heat, and so much pain and so much—

He’s coughing up sand and seawater now, a gap in his memory from the before and the present. Syndrome remembers darkness, the rush of wind against his skin, the car being thrown at him, but he doesn’t remember being pulled out from the abyss that he found himself in, the rough waves of the ocean like hands dragging him out from the blackness and back into consciousness.

Syndrome’s eyes burn from the salty water, and he tries to rub the sting away instinctively with the back of his gloved hands, but all it does is get sand in that he tries to frantically blink away. It is here that he realizes that the mask that has covered his face is gone, taken from him either by the same unknown force that brought him here or by the angry currents of the sea. When his eyes are finally cleared, he is able to properly look around him, seeing lights in the far distance. Refuge, possibly. Safety. Explanations.

Shakily, he gets up on his feet, swiping away his wet hair from out of his face and behind an ear. His cape, still intact, flows behind him in the harsh winds of the beach, and he begins to make his way towards the lights, hoping that nobody sees him like this.

'Fitz' | OC | Scenario 1

[theonlymeisme]

Choking up seawater was not what he expected as his first moments in the afterlife. Not was pushing his way up from the sandy shore, soaked to the skin. But no matter; perhaps this was simply another time, another 'now' that he needed to navigate in order to finally be laid to rest. The lights on the horizon are a good sign, at least, so he sets off towards those, dark curls plastered to his forehead.

It's not long before he falls in line behind someone with a cape, and Fitz's brow furrows. This had to be after his time. No one dressed like that in any of the decades he'd lived through in recent history. Still, it's not like he can ask. He might as well be a ghost. So it's nothing to him to follow and observe, content that eventually he'll figure when and where he is .