TDM: NOVEMBER/DECEMBER

[ryslighelpers]

TDM: NOVEMBER/DECEMBER

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

You've stumbled your way out of the graveyard, and you're promptly besieged by the overwhelming sights and sounds of the city. Cars honk at you to get out of the street, and strangers try not to look in your direction for too long. They see your dirty clothes and scraped faces, and pretend to busy themselves with something else. Rarely, a look of pity is cast your way.

But some people try to reach out. Enterprising citizens and those that hope to curry favor with the newcomers pass out new clothes and bundles of food, asking if you have a place to stay the night, wondering about the details of the world you came from. Some are even handing out pamphlets which vary in how helpful they are--"What To Expect When You're Expecting (To Turn Into A Monster)", "Wolpertinger: Fact or Fiction?", "100% ACCURATE MONSTER QUIZ ASSESSMENT: GUARANTEED TO PREDICT YOUR MONSTER!", and "Ryslig Law In A Nutshell".

As you wander from street to street, you come to realize that some of these people seem...off. If you draw close enough to look at them--really look--you'll be able to observe certain uncanny features. A misshapen eye socket that looks more like an insect's compound eye, skin like a loose bag that seems to fit poorly over their own musculature, a backwards hand that seems to function as normal, and, of all things, an opaque mucus that seems to drip from unseen orifices.

Not only do these people look strange, they act strangely, too. One can be seen drinking a cup of whole coffee beans. Another chews on a piece of rubber tire as if it were a stick of gum. A man dressed in a full-body trench coat seems to writhe as he sits and reads a newspaper.

If any of them notice your approach, they immediately stroll over to enthusiastically greet you. When they speak, a droning buzz seems to emanate from deep within their chests. They smile and stare unblinkingly, talking in obscenity-riddled, disjointed sentences.

"Welcome! It is almost a season! Are you ready to fucking party?"

"What the shit! You're monster?"

With time, more and more of these people begin to shuffle towards you in an almost swarm-like fashion. Lose one of them, and more show up around the corner. They're eager to ask questions--most of which make absolutely no sense--and they won't be easily dissuaded from their goals.

Maybe you should run. Or maybe punch one of them. Surely, that won't cause any problems.

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

2

[turnaboutson]

All right, that's enough.

[The nephilim steps halfway between Aqua and the person who is excitedly harrassing her.] Yes, yes, "it is a season". Party later. Leave the poor woman alone for now, hm?

[He turns to her as the bug-person scuttles away, and opens his mouth to say something, but does a quick double-take, recognition in his four eyes. He recovers quickly, though, and says,] I apologize. They seem to act up around the holidays. You're new here, aren't you?

[aquanimity]

[Aqua, for her part, is even less sure what to make of... this man? Creature? Stepping in between her and the other man (which, now that she looks more closely, seems... off). This is completely unlike anything she's encountered in the Realm of Darkness before; actual beings speaking to her, to each other, with no ill intent towards her at all.

She flinches slightly, almost calling her Keyblade to hand when the winged man turns to her, missing the glance of recognition. But there's no move to attack, only kindness. And, she realizes with sorrow, an obliviousness to his situation.]

I- yes. I don't think I've been here before. [Aqua bows her head. He doesn't know.] This city... when did this world fall to darkness?

[turnaboutson]

[Odd question, but not one he can really contest.]

Since before I arrived, [he says.] A few thousand years, I think? You can thank our lovely host the Fog God for that. [That sarcasm is so thick you could cut it with a Keyblade.]

Where are my manners, though? [He bows, being sure to stay far enough away to give her good clearance from his horns.] My name's Miles Edgeworth.

[aquanimity]

[Aqua gasps, clasping a hand to her chest.]

Thousands of years? But... that would mean....

[This world has been lost, adrift in the darkness for ages. Is that why it's thriving so much here in the depths? The lost souls, creating their own home? But there's no time in the Realm of Darkness, merely endless stasis. And the only other beings she's met have tried to drag her down as well.

And who is the Fog God?

It's not adding up. Once more, a spark of hope flares up in her heart. Tiny, but there. Perhaps this man - Miles Edgeworth - is mistaken, somehow? But first-]

Oh, forgive me - my name is Aqua. [She bows in turn.] It's good to meet you, Mr. Edgeworth. Do you know what this world was called, before it was consumed?

[turnaboutson]

The continent is called Skamd, [says Edgeworth.] We cannot, however, leave the Ryslig Peninsula. I'm not certain of what people here call the word itself - "Ryslig" seems to have become a metonym, because apparently no world exists beyond this place. At least, not on this planet.

[He sighs.] I wish I could welcome you, but this place is probably worse than wherever you came from, unfortunately.

[aquanimity]

I see.

[She's not been restricted to a single fragmented world in her wanderings, but there's much about the Realm of Darkness she doesn't know. Perhaps she's fallen into a deeper level? She needs to know more - especially with that small part of her that hopes, that wishes so fervently for an impossible answer.]

You said you arrived here after this world fell - was your world also consumed? Is the Fog god responsible for that as well?

[turnaboutson]

[Maya, Wright...god, he hopes that his home hasn't been consumed by the Fog. He misses his friends, but he doesn't want any more of them to show up, for their own sake.

Well. There are a few people he wouldn't mind seeing here. But he wouldn't call them "friends". If he's in hell, then Manfred von Karma, Damon Gant, and Dahlia Hawthorne should be right here in hell with him, and his friends should go home.

Of course, by now he knows better than to think this is about being "deserved". Surely this girl here never did anything to deserve being here.]

No, my world is still where I left it, as far as I'm aware. So is everyone else's. At this point, I'd blame the Fog for a stubbed toe, but I'm not particularly well-inclined towards either of the gods that call this place their domain.

[aquanimity]

[That gives her great pause. So it's not just Miles Edgeworth, dragged to darkness, but many more? With their worlds left unharmed?

Who is this Fog god, really? A force of darkness, dragging the innocent into the Realm of Darkness? But surely Master Eraqus would have told her of such a thing! The knowledge he'd imparted to her upon receiving the Mark of Mastery had no such mention of an entity. He wouldn't teach her the ways of darkness, of course, but surely... he would have warned her of a Fog god? And there's a second god as well?

It doesn't add up at all. Subconsciously, she reaches up to rub her shoulder, not fully processing the bite of cold in the air.

Aqua is quiet for a long, long moment, placing her hand to her chin. When she does speak, it's soft, almost unbelieving.]

I think... I think I'm missing something. This place; we are in the Realm of Darkness, aren't we?

[It's almost unthinkable that it could be anything but.]