TDM: SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER

[ryslighelpers]

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.

Comments

[soundsurfing]

[He was right, there is someone up there! Circling the tree again, it takes all of Beat's will to not start barking and whining like a hunting dog unable to get his quarry.

The words make him pause. Is he trying to make a meal out of them?]

No, yo, I ain't! You jus' smell [good] .. injured, an' I wanted to make sure you was aight! ...... You aight??

[hopesong]

Don't sniff me, and mind yer business!

[Case in point, she breaks off a branch, and lobs it down beneath her at him.

Kate as of this moment, has extremely limited patience, and more than enough branches to keep lobbing at him.]

[soundsurfing]

[What's that coming his way? He's going to find out the hard way when the branch smacks him right in the face, making him flinch back with a yelp.]

Hey, yo, that ain't cool!

[Rubbing his face vigorously to get rid of the stinging sensation, he decides if he's being attacked, he can attack back! She might have the high ground but Beat doesn't know tactical advantages, thank you, so he's going to tackle that tree with the full intent of starting to scale it.]

[hopesong]

Neither is you huntin' me down like an animal!

[Another branch comes his way, and he'll be pleased to know that Kate has unfortunately good aim, and a strong arm to go with it.]

I ain't in the mood for shenanigans! Quit it!

[soundsurfing]

I weren't!

[Okay, yes he was, but instinct is trying to get him a meal, dangit. Which means attempts at false reassurance. He glances up again, trying to pinpoint where she is, only to get another branch to the face. The impact startles him enough he releases the branch he had hold of and falls the short distance back to the ground, right on his ass.

Definitely wasn't his night.]

You quit it!!

[hopesong]

I've been hunted down by far better things than you, and I know when I'm bein' hunted!

[It's just an instinctual response at this point, and the words come out hissed.]

'Specially with you barkin' up my tree, literally!

[soundsurfing]

[A frustrated growl is the response Kate gets, Beat glaring up into the canopy of the tree, getting to his feet. He could wait until she had bled enough she got weaker, but patience wasn't his strong suit.

So now he's gonna search around to find rocks he can lob upwards, trying to see if he can peg her like she's been pegging him.]

[hopesong]

[He throws rocks, Kate throws branches. One of the rocks does happen to hit her leg, which hurts and stings like a bitch, but pain is something she's accustomed too, and it wont stop her.

It might stop him though, as she readies a thicker branch, and bats one of the rocks right back in his direction with it.]

[soundsurfing]

[Anyone with more than one braincell would probably have expected that. Sadly, Beat has exactly one braincell and it's busy trying to figure out how to knock Branch-Girl out of the tree.

So the rock hits him dead on, getting a pained yelp out of him and him backing up quickly, hands over his nose that took the brunt of it.

Never give up, never surrender!]

Aight, time fer a beat down! You gonna regret that!!

[Honestly the only one regretting is Beat as he circles the tree again to try and figure out a way up without being branched to death, wiping his nose to get blood out of it.]

[hopesong]

[Branch girl is going to kick his ass if he keeps it up, ignoring the fact that now she can smell his blood, and that stirs a hunger up in her that she doesn't particularly want to contend with mentally at the moment.]

It ain't too late to give up before you do somethin' stupid and fall outta the tree yourself!

[soundsurfing]

[The poor boy has a brief, panicky moment of wondering if this is what it feels like to go Taboo before the hunger overrides everything but the desire to get up there and bite, tear, eat.

Ignoring her words, he growls and begins to scramble up the tree again, ears perked up to try and pinpoint her via noise, as his nose is stuffed with blood and she's blending in too well in the dark amongst the leaves to see her.]

[hopesong]

[The pinfeathers itch in an entirely different manner now, and if she'd had full feathers, they'd just be flat out ruffled, puffed out entirely to make herself look bigger.

But she doesn't have them, and so instead, she's resorted to just throwing more sticks at him on his way up.]

Go get a meal somewhere else! I'm warnin' you for the last time!

[soundsurfing]

[Maybe he's expecting them now or maybe he's simply ignoring them, but the branches don't faze him as he continues his climb, despite a few of them scratch welts here or there. One even bounces off his shoulder and he simply shakes it off like a dog shaking water away.

Snarling like a full on feral animal, Beat all but throws himself up the tree when she speaks again, heading in her direction with the energy of desperate starvation. The hunger throbs in the back of his head, telling him if he doesn't get this meal, he won't get another chance.]

RAAAGH!

[Yeah that's his response to that warning. Come and play, Kate.]

[hopesong]

[Well, it's hardly great that he's scaling the tree to get her, but the fact remains that he's still underneath, and she can still whack him with branches.

All while going further and further upwards to get out of his range. She's no fool, and she's got the agility and upper body strength to bolt from branch to branch in an extremely nimble fashion.

He'll have a hell of a time catching her.]

I said git an' leave me alone!

[soundsurfing]

[Each branch smacking into him will earn another growl, a yelp (that one almost got his eye!), or a more human grunt of frustration. It also slows his ascent, though he's still following at a good clip, his muscles aren't just for show. He'll run into a few problems quickly on, however.

One being he's used to an urban setting, not trees, and his footing becomes uncertain at times when he grabs a branch that looks like it should hold him but snaps instead, causing him to quickly grab hold of the trunk.

Another being she's... a lot lighter than he is, his skull not the only thing dense on him. While she can handle the smaller branches the higher up they go, he can't and eventually he has to stop.

The chicken part of his chicken cacciatore is getting away!

So have an idiot almost lost entirely to the hunger staring upwards and whining like the most pitiful pup in existence. Like that can somehow convince her to throw him a bone. A leg bone preferably.]

[hopesong]

Told you it ain't worth your time!

[Since he's finally, seemingly stopped coming up after her and is starting to whine like a dog that hasn't been fed.

Which is the problem, after all, and she stares down at him, not even the least bit out of breath. She's still looking at her escape routes, and she thinks, if she can get a firm grip, she can either jump to another near by tree, or just drop fast from branch to branch.]

[soundsurfing]

[Almost like he's forcing stiff muscles to move after not using them enough, the hunger in his screaming to keep trying to go up, he begins to forcefully make his way back down. He hasn't given up, however. Not yet. He's pretty sure she's still bleeding, though he can't smell it anymore around his own blood, so maybe if he waits long enough?

Landing with a thump back on the ground, he takes a moment to snot rocket his nose as clear as he can, before turning his attention back up, his ears twisted as far forward as the floppiness of them will allow.

If he can't track her via sight or smell, his hearing should help? Maybe? He doesn't know, he's new to this.]