graveyardsmash | TDM: SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[How rude, who wouldn't be absolutely thrilled to see this brick-brained boy?

Lifting her easily out of the grave, he helps her move back away from the edge before letting go to help brush some of the clinging dirt and muck from her shoulders and head.

The question gets a grimace out of him and he glances towards the graves. Not far from Shoka's and Susy K's is Beat's... and Neku's and Rhymes, and other friends he knows. Covered, unlike his own, unlike Shoka's.]

Yeah, but weren't no one in there but me an' the rocks. There's other graves but they all closed up. Really hopin' this some whacked out Halloween Game or somethin'. You aight?

[The question is aimed at the fact he's now noticing her own scraps and cuts, his expression falling into a light frown.]

[She pretends to be annoyed at his fussing, cringing away from his hands and rolling her eyes—again, more on principle than anything.] Woah, um, hi? Worried about me much? [Secretly, it’s… kind of nice. Even if it does little to make her look like less of a complete wreck.

She offers a reassuring smirk nonetheless.]

Obviously. But yeah, I should be asking you the same… No offense, but you’re looking a little rough.

[Alas, she didn't get the memo about the Halloween horrorfest and hadn't thought to bring any bandaids with her. Her smile fades as she follows Beat's gaze to the gravestones.]

Too bad about the graves… We probably could have used a brochure or something. I mean… No way we’re still in Shibuya, right? [It doesn’t even look like they’re in Japan for that matter. She glances out over the graveyard then, squinting in the dim light.] And there’s not nearly enough wasted cosplayers around for it to be a Halloween thing.

Oh, psh, I'm aight, ain't gotta worry! I get more roughed up than dis goin' 'round on my board!

[Not exactly the best thing to flex, but there it is. The idea that they're not in Shibuya didn't actually seem to have ever sprouted in Beat's head but now that it's there, he will actually take a moment to look fully around them. Like a dog just realizing he's at the Vet's and not the Park.]

If this Shibuya, yo, someone did some major redo.

[Turning his attention to the distance with Shoka, he opens his mouth to go to say something when the sound of ... keys? catches his ears. And something else, the scrap of metal against ground.

Without really thinking about it, he drops his voice to a bit of a whisper. It's still a loud whisper.]

Hey uh... you think we alone here?

That’s an understatement.

[In the grave, alone and certain that just she had been snatched right back out of the RG for some new, even dumber kind of Game, Shoka had been content with ignoring those ominous sounds and lying around in wait for them to get to her. Fighting for her life had never really been her style, anyway; hadn't she been fully prepared and willing to be erased just weeks ago? Now, however, with Beat here, they give her a belated thrill of panic. Wincing a little at his volume, she replies in a lower whisper:]

Let’s assume not.

[Maybe it’s just one of those drunk cosplayers she was just thinking about, or some Reaper equivalent with the rundown on their new rules, but she’s not about to stick around just to figure out if they’re friendly—particularly not when she checks again and finds, sure enough, her psychs still aren’t working.

Accepting then that they both must be all but powerless, she moves at—what she hopes is—right angles to the sound and gestures for Beat to follow.]

Uh, you wanna at least try surviving? C'mon, Worms-for-Brains…!

Aight, Kitty-girl, lead on!

[Good thing she's leading, too, or he might have just darted right off into the direction of the noise. While he's not too keen on fleeing, he's semi-confident he could take on whatever it is, there's only the two of them. So if something happened to him, Shoka would be on her own and he's not about that.

The graveyard is confusing, to say the least. If it wasn't for Shoka, Beat's pretty sure he'd have been turned around already. The noises are still there, seeming to keep pace with them, but Beat's unsure if it's following or doing it's own thing.

Eventually he reaches out to touch Shoka's arm lightly to get her to stop.]

We sure we ain't been this way 'fore? That grave looks familiar. [Not like they don't all look familiar.]

[Though Shoka trudges forward with purpose, she naturally doesn’t know the place any better than Beat does; even after what feels like more than enough time to at least find an exit, they don’t seem to be getting much of anywhere. Already on edge and starting to get agitated, she jumps a little when Beat prompts her to stop, and seems about ready to snap something unkind as she whirls to face him, but—to her credit—manages to refrain. Instead, she lets out a heavy sigh.]

Okay, Crypt Keeper, do you wanna lead?

[No sooner does she voice the question than the eerie, too-bright glow of a flashlight suddenly sweeps over them, making Shoka lift her arms to shield her eyes. Blinking hard against the glare, the first thing she sees is the dark, burly outline of the gravekeeper. The next is the shovel being swung at Beat’s head.]

Wh—Beat!

TDM: SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER

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"like a dog just realizing he's at the Vet's" killed me and i'm writing this from beyond the grave

RIP new UG player :'(

i'm in the UG eating all the pins and rambling about how perfect Beat is