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

AAA thank you T_T

[heyhohey]

A little later, Alfred may be embarrassed about this, about how incapable he must seem right now. But for now, really, it's reasonable - he has had an incredibly stressful few days, and now he doesn't even know where he IS.

So for now any notions of pride are out the window, and he's nodding, trusting this young woman and not daring to look behind him.

"...Alfred," he wheezes, his breathing thin with panic. "I'm...my name is Alfred."

[springgirl]

If these were better, normal circumstances, Cora would say that it was nice to meet him. It would be stupid to say it now or at all when they're both clearly having a bad night, and right now she doesn't feel like trying to exchange social niceties with someone who is very clearly having or is on the verge of a panic attack.

"Okay, Alfred. I'm going to count now -- and we're both going to take deep breaths as I count. Ready?" She gives him enough time to hear her before she takes a deep breath, starting with "one" as she exhales. She's not particularly experienced with helping someone like this, but she is trying to hope that this will help ground both of them.

[heyhohey]

Inexperienced as she may be, her grounding words are clearly working - he takes a moment to try to slow the ragged pace his lungs are currently choosing so that he can try to match her breathing as she prompts.

Nodding, he lets his eyes flutter shut so he's not just staring, listening for her count as he draws his own deep breath in and lets it out through his lips.

He can hear those Things in the distance, but they aren't close. That helps. He counts along soundlessly under his breath.

[springgirl]

She does start to feel a little more reassured as his breathing starts to calm, noting that it doesn't sound nearly as panicked as before. But she doesn't stop counting until she reaches ten, and -- thankfully -- the breathing has managed to help her too. Hesitating briefly, she gives Alfred a gentle and reassuring squeeze. She's much too proud to admit that she needs comfort, so she might as well offer it to someone else. Even though it is a complete stranger.

"You did good, Alfred. Do you feel like moving away yet? Those things aren't moving, but I'll scare them off if they try to follow." Cora tries to smile, and suddenly it hits her that it's the first time she's done so all night. It feels almost unnatural, but she wants Alfred to see a comforting smile when he opens his eyes again.

[heyhohey]

By the time the counting is finished, the shake has more or less left his lungs - his body still trembles, scared as he is, but when he finally slits his eyes back open, he at least doesn't look as though he will collapse at any moment. He can tell she's struggling to smile, but it's nice that she's trying to do so for his sake - so he tries to return it.

"...Thank you. I...yes. Maybe we should...we should walk."

He swallows, voice finally easing and evening out. "I just got here. Did...did you?"

[springgirl]

The smile he gives her is comforting in a way, at least. It tells her that she's not alone in... whatever this whole thing is. She gives him another gentle squeeze before letting go, but after another moment of hesitation she offers him a hand. Wordlessly offering comfort if he needs it and wants it. She can still clearly see the tears on his face, but part of her feels like she'd be overstepping if she drew attention to it.

"Yeah. I'm not sure where to, but we might be able to find somewhere quieter and less crowded." But she pauses and stops at the question, subconsciously reaching up to wipe at her face. "You could say that. I woke up in a -- ...in a grave. How fucked up is that?"

[heyhohey]

The hand she offers is taken, gratefully - he doesn't know her, but given all that's happening, anything to help ground him sounds good right about now. He sniffles, rubbing his eyes and cheeks with the back of his free hand. He must look a sight, he realizes, in his stolen coat and messy hair, the angry bloody scabs on the side of his neck obvious against his fair skin.

"...Very. The same thing happened to me. One moment I was...in the snow, in Transylvania, and then the next I was...here." Hesitation. "Did...your grave have your name on it, too?"

It makes him shudder, just to think back on it.

[springgirl]

A feeling of relief washes over when he takes her hand, and for a few brief moments that's all she can focus on. The feeling of someone real and alive holding her hand helps to ground her, too -- right up until she sees the injuries on his neck. It makes her freeze and tense, and she has to keep herself from asking what happened. It wouldn't be fair.

"In Transylvania? I was in California." Kind of. Cora shakes that thought off, looking down at their hands and back at him. "Yes. And I saw other graves around me. They had the names of my friends." She supposes now that it isn't entirely inaccurate, but she doesn't voice the thought out loud. "Shit. What the hell is this place?"

[heyhohey]

"California?" Alfred looks confused at this - the word sounds clumsy on his tongue, like something he was only vaguely familiar with. He doesn't notice the glance she steals at his neck, too busy looking at the strange city bustling around them. It's...so big. How is it so big?

But her answer makes him look back down at her, concern and anguish plain in the quiver of his lip. "I'm sorry. The - the grave next to mine...had...had my Mentor's name on it, too."

A sniffle. He hopes, he really hopes, that that much is not true. That the Professor is all right, still out there, still headed back to spread the word.

"I don't know. It's...I've been through a lot of strange things these last few days, but this is the strangest, I think."

[springgirl]

Alfred's visible confusion makes Cora look at him -- really look at him -- especially the way he's dressed. "Yeah. It's... uh. Really far from Transylvania." That's a bit of an understatement, but her head's already starting to hurt. If her new acquaintance really is from a different time, she doesn't want to think about it at the moment.

The way he reacts to her words is too distracting to think, anyway. She sees concern, and pain. But no pity, to her relief. Nothing like the looks she'd received from some of the locals. Unlike them, Alfred seems genuine. She isn't sure if that's what makes her tear up, stubbornly reaching with her free hand to wipe at her eyes. Alfred's mentor might still be alive, but her friends aren't. She knows that, but she has to try to reassure him about his friend.

"Look -- there's no way that your mentor is dead. Our names were on the graves we woke up in, and we're still alive. This place is probably just messing with us." A pause. "I've just had a really long, fucked up night. But neither of us have to go through this alone, Alfred."

[heyhohey]

Oh. This is...this is getting more alarming by the moment, isn't it?

But that all aside, he catches her wiping tears away and, clumsily, fumbles around in the chest pocket of the coat with his free hand to pull the folded handkerchief from it and hold it out to her. The gesture is sweet and simple, kindness joining the anxiety in his expression in equal measure.

"...You're right, Cora. We are both here. That's...that's a place to start."

He's not the best with words, and he knows it, but he's got to try. She's trying to comfort him, and it is working - it's the least he can do. "...Do you...want to talk about it? You don't have to, but it...it sounds like we may both have had a bad night before getting here."

[springgirl]

Cora wants so desperately to be frustrated with herself right now. She cries so rarely, taking care to bottle her emotions up and mask them. In her eyes, crying makes her look vulnerable and weak. It clashes with her need for comfort and kindness. For someone to hold her and to tell her that everything's okay. So as much as she wants to feel frustrated... she can't.

At least it keeps her from snapping and rejecting the offer. And part of her wants to tell him that he needs it more than she does since he'd been crying just a few minutes ago. But as she sees the kindness in his gaze, Cora finds herself taking the handkerchief anyway. She uses it to wipe at her eyes, to dab at her cheeks as more tears fall.

She doesn't answer him at first, giving his hand a tug as she starts walking away from the crowds. Walking gives her the chance to focus on her feet or the path ahead, anywhere but Alfred. "I was at a party in the woods just outside my hometown. These... things -- creatures -- came out of the lake and attacked us. I don't know how I was able to avoid getting grabbed, but. My friends weren't so lucky. No one else was."

[heyhohey]

Of anyone, Alfred is perhaps the least likely person to push someone if they don't want to be pushed. If she had bristled, he would have immediately receded, looked away, changed the subject...but then she takes the handkerchief, and she starts to walk and talk. He watches her for a moment, then casts his eyes forward, trying to listen without being too invasive.

Once she finishes, he's quiet for a moment, chewing his lip, squeezing her hand back gently before settling on something to say.

"...That sounds terrible," he ventures, glancing briefly to her. "I'm so sorry. It...it sounds like we both got away from something terrible. I was...actually at a party, too."

Well, sort of.

[springgirl]

She isn't entirely sure why she was able to tell Alfred so easily. Maybe it's because the memories are still fresh in her mind, or maybe it's because she feels like she can talk to him. The former makes more sense, whereas the latter is liable to confuse her even more than she already is. She'd spent years carefully crafting a tough, mean girl persona that would keep her from getting hurt.

Something she can feel breaking and crumbling even now, far away from the lake. She had tried to shove everything down, to pretend that nothing happened. The gentle squeeze Alfred gives her hand both comforts her and makes her tear up again, and she has to wipe them away quickly before they fall. "...Thank you. You don't need to say that you're sorry, but thank you."

Cora's gaze flickers briefly to the injuries on his neck again when he says that he'd escaped from something terrible as well, hesitating. "Is that where you --" She stops, nodding at the scabs weakly. "We should really take care of those. There must be some kind of first aid around here."