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graveyardsmash2021-09-10 09:23 am
ryslighelpers) wrote in graveyardsmash2021-09-10 09:23 am
Entry tags:
TDM: SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER
Welcome to the Ryslig Test Drive Meme! Below are a few prompts to get you started, but you may make up any prompt you desire! Please take a look at the navigation page for rules, setting information, and links to reserves and apps. Have fun!
SCENARIO ONE
You wake up in a dark ditch, the sky cloudy overhead. Dirt cakes into your cuts and scrapes. The air is clammy and damp, and it smells like rain.
You’re in a grave. And when you sit up to inspect the tombstone marking your spot, it has your name on it. Maybe the graves next to you have the names of familiar friends, family, acquaintances. Not all of them are open like yours are. RIP.
There’s a light dancing in the distance, and you hear the jingle-jangle of heavy keys, or worse still, the gravekeeper’s massive pitchfork or shovel. If you're lucky, you can sneak out beyond his notice, and get out alone. If not - you might find yourself on the wrong end of a shovel’s swing, or worse yet, tripping headfirst in front of a pair of monstrous eyes.
SCENARIO TWO
So you've just arrived, and you’re surrounded by an incredibly odd group of natives. Some of them wear elaborate headdresses that resemble a deer, or a horse with seaweed instead of a mane, or a ferocious cat. All of them are covered in tattoos and piercings, and their clothing mirrors their ‘beast’ of choice, from snakeskin boots for the snake-people to cowhide and leathers for the minotaurs, manticore-kin, or kelpie-kin. These people introduce themselves as members of the scouting team for the Tågevalgten, and they’re here to help you settle in! They load you onto a rickety old bus and take you into Town.
The Town is called Rota, according to the rusted road-sign. And the central lodge is all decked out and ready to go for a reception, Children of the Fog welcome. There are food and drink aplenty, mostly meat-heavy, and if you ask them where the meat came from… Well! Maybe you shouldn’t ask.
The Tågevalgten gladly share helpful pamphlets for you. “Embrace Your Fog-Given Gifts,” they proclaim. Most of them are fashioned to sound like self-help with a religious bent favoring a divine entity called the Fog God: “Monster Types And YOU: What Fits Your Personality? Take Our 99% Accurate Quiz Inside!”, “Shed Your Human Skin And Thrive,” “Be Uniquely You And Uniquely Free,” “What to Expect When You're Expecting (to turn into a monster).” There's even some thick books carefully cataloguing certain monsters and the changes they might go through. Some of these seem to have been passed down from one monster to the next.
After awhile, it’s clear that the Tågevalgten are a bit too friendly and enthralled with buttering you up. In fact, it’s clear that they don’t want you to leave their fold, happy to keep you strapped together with a kumbaya around the campfire. They might not let you go until you take a bite of their Soylent Green or accept a group hunting trip with other newbies, and so on and so on. There’s always some excuse.
Maybe someone else can help you out of these uncomfortable pickles and get you away from here.
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? Does it fit you, or does it feel incongruous with your nature? Feel free to pick any monster type for this prompt, but note that you may not get the same one in game.
no subject
Now, why'd you think a nice boy like me'd do that to you? [He says, grinning in a way that nice boys do not grin.] I'm just here to welcome the new arrivals. Make sure they're not too shaken up.
[He extends what's definitely more like a paw than a hand, complete with baby pink, cat-like pads.]
no subject
[Peter takes in the paw with wide eyes, before delicately pinching just one of the pads and giving it a shake. He's not sure the "firm but pleasant" route applies to cats—cats? Cat people? But he has wings...he definitely needs to look into this one. Perhaps he died and went to heaven and this is one of the beasts of the throne. That would be a nice thought. Peter has very few nice thoughts.]
Glad to hear a negative on the whole killing-and-eating thing. Really glad. I promise I'm not shaken up, you just, uh—surprised me, sorry. New arrivals? What happened to me?
[Surreptitiously, he feels around his abdomen for his kidneys. Just in case those urban legends ring true.]
no subject
You've been chosen by the Fog.
[Welcome to religious thunderdome, Father.]
Regular as clockwork She brings new people to Her shores. You're one of them. Welcome to Ryslig. [Well.] Or at least, the Bavan Cemetery. Not the most auspicious start, but you can't win them all.
no subject
[He tries ascribing the same significance Gabriel does to the word, but it tastes metallic on his tongue, utterly foreign. Still, he tries to make sense of it as much as he can, brow furrowing. Hold on, he has some thinking to do.
When he speaks again, it's slower, less blindly panicked. It's not the most unbelievable thing in the world. Only one of them.]
No, I can't say it's especially—um, especially fortunate. I also can't say I've heard of this place before.
no subject
[But not having heard of this place? More than fair.]
Won't find it on any map of wherever you're from. Sure wasn't one I knew when I first got here. [He grins sharply.] You ain't in Kansas anymore, Toto.
[Look he's seen one whole movie and it was the Wizard of Oz. He's trying his best.]
Might not be the level of technology you're used to here either, depending on what year it was for you back home.
no subject
[Peter sounds appropriately skeptical, but he at least feels confident enough to slowly climb to his feet, trying to project a cool, nonthreatening presence to this creature who could disembowel him without a thought. (He's never been especially threatening, so that part comes easily. Cool, however...)]
2019, if you really care. I haven't seen much of this place, but...well, I'm willing to bet that it's not up to date, going by your tone. Also going to guess you're somewhere in the same ballpark, relatively speaking, if you've watched that movie. Or have a concept of movies at all. That means you weren't some sort of ancient monk before you got here, I guess? That's good. Nothing against monks, I mean.
[Uh oh. He's been Unlocked.]
Were you always a...you know? I don't mean to be indelicate.
no subject
[Make of that what you will, Father.]
[The sudden outpouring of words is surprising after how... Frightened he'd been before. At least he was talking, though. Not being from the past boded poorly though, just on a technological standpoint. Once again he's jealous of those for whom the tech here is modern and exciting.]
Fifties appliances, but with them old eighties laptops. [He ain't addressing the monk stuff.] Still internet, though. An' it's just as full of morons.
[Indelicate? Nothing wrong with asking.]
A manticore? No, I was human when I got here in... Oh, December last year? First month after we got here fate ordained I was t'become a cat.