graveyardsmash | TDM: JANUARY/FEBRUARY

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test drive

TDM: JANUARY/FEBRUARY

TDM: JANUARY/FEBRUARY

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".

Then there are the people who aren't happy to see you at all. Glares and silent, judging stares if you're lucky, torches and pitchforks attempting to drive you out of the town if you're not. You may need a friend to help you.

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.

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[One thing Spike is not is mean to kids. That doesn't mean he can't be paralyzed with confusion when such a strange— and loud, did he mention loud?— kid is coming to his... defense.

Does alcohol give you hallucinations? It doesn't, right? And usually hallucinations don't have a feeling when they tap you on the shoulder. He thinks. Do they? Well now Spike is conflicted and— right, there is a task at hand.]

Oh— right. Shit, Uh—

[With little more hesitation, Spike attempts to usher this kid along with him, admonishing as he picks up his pace—]

What the heck are you doing, anyway? That guy's like, ten times your size!

[Despite his stature, the kid in question is surprisingly agile - he scampers right along, more or less keeping pace with the lanky grown man he's chosen to ally himself with. Though he is breathing much more quickly, too. Little lungs gotta work hard.]

H-- How dare you!
He may be tall, but he is nothing I cannot handle!

[Apparently height is a bit of a sore spot. Zim points accusingly at Spike, as he continues.]

You are tall and yet you needed my assistance to escape! Clearly, you humans don't correlate height and greatness!

[Spike's lips draw into a line, but he nods to the side as if conceding that this weird ass kid does have a bit of a point.]

Greatness and risk are two different things!

[he argues, despite his mental concession. Because he always argues.

Looking over his shoulder, he takes in the gait of the now muddier grave keeper, and makes a few decisions. He is taller than this kid, at least, and can use his own weight to throw the grave keeper's around a little bit.]

Hey, stick to the side!

[Spike warns Zim, but doesn't really give him much time before he spins and ducks down, aiming a kick toward the pursuer's feet, and curling up in hopes the grave keeper will simply tumble over him. He's lucky enough that it works, sending the grave keeper sprawling forward onto the ground with his arms just inches from poor Zim. Of course, he is now on the ground, leaving Zim with much more of a chance to place distance between them— and Spike wastes no time with a few well placed steps over the gravekeeper's back and head to run over him.]

Alright, let's— go!

[The warning is appreciated: it gives Zim enough time to make a confused, indignant "eh?!" noise before the action goes down. Immediately, he scrambles out of the way, a little scream punctuating the gravekeeper's fall, but in the end, he's on the ground and Zim is unharmed. With a growly grumbling under his breath, Zim scrabbles up over the fallen human, scampering along his back and hopping off to keep sprinting after his new ally. Combat experience is a plus in any new minion.]

Well done, human! Exactly the maneuver I would have chosen!

[Sure it is.]

I knew you weren't as useless as you appeared! ZIM can see potential even in pathetic Earth-creatures!!

[Are these really compliments...? He's certainly saying them like they are, his tone incredibly boastful. Despite becoming increasingly out of breath, trying to yell and run at the same time.]

Though - I admit - I am unfamiliar with this territory! Where - [he gulps in air, presses one hand to his side and hisses something to himself before continuing:] where are we going?

[It is just as well that Hythlodaeus is with him, and keeping an eye on him; for as soon as they are among the buildings, Faramir's pace begins to slow, his eye wandering. He ought not to hesitate, ought to keep his mind on the matter at hand, but...]

[These buildings arch high as mallorn-trees, glinting glass and steel, silent guards of a jagged skyline. Beneath their feet, the mud has given way not to dressed granite, as he first thought, but to something else; something smooth and seamless, a river of stone. There are lights behind the glass; witch-lights that do not flicker, but burn in strange colours. This is a dream-city, and he falters where he walks, turning his face up towards the falling rain, which is caught in strange colours as it drips onto the black roadway.]

[He is doing a terrible job at blending in.]

...This place...

[Doppio noticeably grimaces at the mention of cannibalism. He could say that's never applied to him; he's argued it plenty. In fact, he may have argued it so much that he's disinclined to bring it up now. Would it matter? Would it go anywhere? Or would she just not believe him, like everybody else?

It might be for the best that Jolyne keeps him on his (purely proverbial) toes, coming in and out of his personal sphere of comfort. It leaves less time to dwell on subjects like that.]

... Changes? [Simple questions, at least, are something he can answer, especially if they have nothing to do with him or the Boss.] Uh... That Cube place blew up, but I think it's all fixed up now.

[Fortunately, Spike's taken a lot of smack-talk in his life. He's... definitely not as used to being on this end, but it's fine.

This kid is just really weird. What's up with this alien roleplay??]

I— I have no idea,

[Spike admits, panting all the same, not bothering to look back this time; as long as they keep going forward, he's sure they'll make it out of the grave digger's reach. But hey, while they're being loud and announcing annoying but relevant inconveniences, Spike will answer with an informative complaint;]

This doesn't look like Tharsis to me!

[Now that they have been afforded some form of calm, Hythlodaeus takes the time to pull the massive black hood of his robe up over his head, covering him from the rain. It obstructs his peripheral view of Faramir, however, so he turns to make sure everything is still all right.]

A bit garish, I'll admit, but we are hardly in a position to criticize.

[He laughs, wading back through the crowd to stand closer to Faramir. Any more distance between them and they might be swept apart by the current.]

How do you fare? I trust our heroic escape left you without any injuries of note?

[Faramir seems to be preoccupied with looking around. Is he dazed? Did he knock his head? Perhaps he just needs rest.]

Oh man… I missed a prime action movie moment of walking away from an explosion…

I’ve definitely always wanted to do that, but I guess tomorrow is another day. Maybe. I mean, we gotta just live for the moment amirite?

Like this one here, I’m actually pretty glad I got to run into you. I probably pick on you a lot, but that’s kinda just how it is with friends right?

I just feel like really chill around you. We’re in this weird kinda fucked up place, but at the same time I have the chance to get to know so many people I probably wouldn’t have otherwise met.

Scenario One: Graveyard

[If Timekeeper Cookie is surprised to find herself lying in an open grave - or human, for that matter - she certainly isn't showing it. At least, not like your average person might. She's already pulled herself out, her smile as unreadable as ever, and she hasn't even stepped far away from that damp, roughly dug hole in the soil. Anyone passing by will see a woman dressed like she's just been pulled from a steampunk convention standing there casually as you please, combing her fingers through her incredibly voluminous mane of gold hair in a distracted attempt to get some of the dirt and debris out of it. She's regarding the surrounding tombstones with a curious tilt of her head and a gleam in the eye not covered by that strange eyepatch.]

Hmm... these aren't accurate at all! At least, not last I peeked at everyone's futures.

[An odd comment at the best of times, but doubly so when the stones say things like "Croissant Cookie" or "String Gummy Cookie" on them.

She's also either oblivious to the gravekeeper lumbering slowly towards her, or simply doesn't register him as a threat.]

Scenario Two: City

[Now this is a place much more to Timekeeper's taste, even if many of the locals are looking at her strangely. Well, nothing new there, the odd stares just seem to roll off her back. The perpetual smile on her face seems to be working to her advantage too, as so far any of the more belligerent citizens have taken one look at her and decided they're unnerved enough not to bother.

She has, however, been actively collecting the pamphlets - even popping up unexpectedly in front of people handing them out asking if she can have one, which has startled quite a few of them already. She's now got her arms full of them, reading as she strolls aimlessly down the street, and giving an occasional giggle or widening of her smile.

She's so absorbed, in fact, that she nearly runs into someone else coming down the street. Nearly. She catches herself just in time, spinning on her heel to pivot out of the way, and grins at the other person.]

Oh, hello! You don't have more of these, do you?

[She says, pointing to the pile of pamphlets in her arms that she already looks on the verge of dropping everywhere.]

Scenario Two B: City (again)

[Somewhere in the city, Timekeeper has caused a ruckus. There was a machine that caught her eye, you see - whether a small device in a shop, a vehicle left unattended, or anything in between - and she's somehow managed to get a surprising ways into taking it apart before anyone caught her.

If it's in a shop, she's having what might be the oddest argument with the shopkeeper you've ever seen, apparently not quite understanding why she can't just do that if she wanted to see how it worked before buying it. She doesn't seem angry or upset - yup, still smiling! - just curious.

Or, maybe it's something that belongs to you that she got to... for what it's worth, nothing seems broken. It's just that all the parts she's got to so far have been expertly separated from the other parts - though there's no immediately obvious rhyme or reason to the piles she's thrown said parts into.]

Wildcard

[Because I can and it is fun.]

[The second those mismatched eyes meet his, Komaeda's heart flutters up into his throat. He isn't used to being looked at this intently, especially not by Hinata—which wouldn't be too bad normally, were it not for the way his knees feel a little weak with the sudden burst of nerves churning his belly.

He doesn't allow it to show on his expression, as he takes a couple steps back, just enough to put distance between them again as he tactfully turns his own gaze away. Instead, he lifts his sole hand to tuck some frizzy strands of hair behind his ear.]

I'm glad we're on the same page now! Let's continue.

[He begins to lead the way again without waiting for Hinata's reply—instead, trusting on his knowledge that the other would follow without a fight.]

You said you were trying to wake everyone up before... Did you manage to get anyone out of the Neo World Program before you woke up here?

[... Well, that's one way to look at it. He wonders if she wouldn't have been startled in the slightest if she'd been here to HEAR the explosions...

Also, uh.

Uhhhhhhhhh.]

You... really mean that? Uh, that's really nice of you.

[Wait, she-- she thinks they're friends??]

Of course I do, I mean back at home I’m in prison and I get sent into isolation a lot so you kinda just have a lotta time to think. And when I’m thinking I feel like maybe I don’t get to say things openly enough to the people that really matter.

[ There’s a pause of reflection before she smiles again. ]

Holy shit, sorry I think maybe this is too heavy. I just don’t want to up and disappear again without saying that I like you. So this time around let’s hang out more, okay?

And who knows, if some of my family is still around here I’ll introduce you to ‘em. Or you know, I could win some sort of ridiculously huge plush toy from a game for ya.

[Faramir runs a muddy hand over his face, frowning; then shakes his head sharply, as though he is indeed dazed and trying to knock himself out of his stupor. In a sense, perhaps that is the best way to see it.]

[He clears his throat, and looks at Hythlodaeus more squarely, offering a small smile.]

Naught worse than bruises and scrapes, I would say. In body, at least, I am more hale than I have right to be.

[He sighs, letting his hand drop back to his side.] Forgive me. This place has the air to it of a dream, but not one that my mind has ever forged; and everything is strange. I am all right. I am only lost.

Your concern is much appreciated. It isn't your fault, of course...it isn't anyone's, really. It is simply the result of those seeking too much power, and being more than willing to trample the lives of the lesser fortunate to obtain it.

[He hopes, dearly, that whatever place he's found himself in isn't dealing with something similar. But while Alphinaud might be young, he has been in this business long enough to know that perfect peace is a tenuous thing, and not often easily gained or even actually attainable.]

I think we both will be able to focus more on finding a way back to our respective homes once we've gotten more information about the place we find ourselves in now. Have you seen any more disturbances in the graves?

[He's wondering if Nana might have actually been one of the last to wake, now that he thinks about it.]

[She's in prison...? Doppio didn't have her pegged as the criminal type. The reckless type, sure, but not a criminal. That said, if he was at all put off by the subject, it doesn't show. If anything, what gets him to tense up is the repeated assertion that she likes him.

... Not that there's anything wrong with that, or that he doesn't consider himself likable. He just... didn't think he'd stick out in somebody's mind like that.]

You had family here?

Huh? Oh yeah, they were like great great and beyond relatives, but that's just super complicated and probably a little boring.

I have a very strong feeling that there are a few left.

[ Just easily brushing it off. Is that just confidence or actual intuition? She won't elaborate on that. ]

But bruh, either way we're gonna have fun alright? We can make the most of what this place has to offer. Not like right this minute, because filthy, right?

Can you make it shallow, so that I can feel the rain? - The Graves

Being in a grave would almost make sense, in some contexts. She is, after all, dead...perhaps some soul scooped her up from where she had fallen, tossed her into the earth nearby the manor with the rest of her family. Maybe the megamycete pieced her back together, and that's why she would be sitting up, groaning and sore, reanimated...except immediately, she realizes that something is wrong. It's cold, but the air is...different. Trees don't stretch upward and overhead. The bodies of no Lycans hang there. The cemetery is unfamiliar.

Looking around, she intends to take up Angie, to figure out where they are and what to do next - but that's when she realizes...there is nothing else in this grave with her. No one else. "No." Her voice, dusty with disuse, comes out in a frail whisper.

"Angie?" Her voice is hoarse, frantic as she claws at the earth around her with both pale, delicate hands. "ANGIE-"

She doesn't care if anyone hears her, or what anyone thinks of a woman in head-to-toe black mourning garb shredding the earth with her fingernails. Without Angie, she is alone. She cant be alone. Not again.

Do you even know that I'm here? I might as well be a ghost.... - Dyster

Donna isn't really sure what made her wander here...but almost immediately, she feels an eerie sense of familiarity fall upon her like a cold mantle. She stands there, right at the border, staring at the quiet and decaying buildings, the signs of some foreign religion strewn this way and that. Not so very unlike home, she thinks. And that village was haunted, too, in its own way.

Wandering inward, maybe she looks like she belongs...dark skirt skating along the ground, face obscured, pale hands folded demurely in front of her. She pauses, briefly, to stoop and pick something up from the ground, discarded or forgotten by a resident, perhaps. A doll, one eye stuck shut.

"Poor thing."

Taking a seat on a low, crumbling stone wall, she immediately sets to work with one long fingernail, carefully chipping dirt out of the broken socket, paying no mind to anything around her.

And I breathe, not now, not now - Turning - Shade

Donna had fallen to pieces once before.

It had been painful, so painful, but at least it had been quick. A stabbing pain, and then a crumbling, a cracking, the mycete taking over the last of her cells and then dying on the spot. And that was it. That had been it, until here. And going through it again, at least she would have known what to expect.

This? This is not that. The fog that twists around her shrouded body seems to seep in, making her feel wrong, weak-kneed. Terror clenching in her chest, she looks to her hands, the only exposed skin on her whole body - and watches it as it seems to be crumbling away, vaporizing. She's not falling to pieces. She's DISAPPEARING.

"Help me," she hisses to the first person she sees, voice trembling behind the veil. "I don't want to disappear-"

Edited 2022-02-05 06:18 (UTC)

We'll never be worlds apart (The Graveyard)

Nightmares are rough on Pepa, as a rule. She's been known, before, to summon storms in her sleep, sleet and snow and freezing rain that has Felix shaking her awake before the bed is doused completely. This time, though, she's aware of being damp before she even opens her eyes, aware of the scent of the cold, and...soil? She reaches out for her husband, and her hand meets...nothing. Not even a blanket.

"...Mm...Felix?"

Slitting her eyes open, it's only a beat before the redhead sits bolt upright, wrapping her arms around herself in alarm. How did she get out here? Where IS she? It sort of looks like a - oh, God. Oh GOD.

Panic rises in her chest, and she fumbles to her feet, automatically reaching down to shake the dirt from her skirt. This is not the Encanto, is it? It's so foggy, so dark - maybe she should just calm down, let the sun come out, let it clear. Shutting her eyes again for a moment, she moves through a couple of counted breaths. "Clear skies. Clear skies."

Nothing is happening. Terror needles her further, and she shivers, opening her eyes, watching for some sign, any sign, her voice gradually rising.

"Clear skies clear skies CLEAR SKIES - CLEAR. SKIES."

Nothing, not so much as a gust of wind. Not even a new raincloud.

Her powers are gone, and Pepa Madrigal is left standing in her own shallow grave, shuddering and shellshocked, wondering when she'll snap out of this and find THIS is all a nightmare.

"Dolores? Dolores, please hear me, please wake me up, please wake me up...."

At least I showed up, you showed me nothing at all (The City)

With Antonio, it's common for all sorts of creatures to exist in spaces around Pepa back in the Encanto. For the most part, she finds all of them pretty sweet, fuzzy little creatures and friendly birds, rushing about at her son's side. The ones she doesn't find QUITE so sweet, however, are the insects. She tries her best to bear with them, of course, and the butterflies and crickets and grasshoppers can be cute.

But whatever these things are, they are not cute. Her lip curls in disgust as she makes eye contact with one of them who is noisily chewing on a still-wrapped bag of whole coffee beans.

"IT IS A FUCKING DAY, MONSTER!"

Really, she should be afraid - but her temper wins out, narrowing her big bright eyes. "WHAT did you just call me? And you watch your mouth, your language is-"

It's then that she realizes...there are so many of them. And they are all lumbering towards her, jabbering obscenities in an excited buzz. Instinctively, she holds her arms out, trying to urge a tornado to clear the way. When it doesn't work, she does the next best thing she can think to do -

She reaches down, takes off one of her shoes, and brandishes it with a warning in her eyes and her teeth gritted.

"Don't you come any closer, you - you THINGS!"

Ever since Mirabel woke up in a grave, climbed out to find her name engraved on a tombstone, she’s been a mess. However, she hears an unmistakable voice from one of the nearby open graves and scurries over.

Tia Pepa is there. Still alive - seemingly not harmed. Looking just as panicked as Mirabel felt when she woke up.

She leans over the side, holding her hand out.

“Tia Pepa! Up here!”

Edited 2022-02-06 13:17 (UTC)

"Mirabel?"

She recognizes the voice before she even sees her niece sticking her head over the edge of the grave - and she knows it means two things. Number one, she is not alone.

Number two, this may not be a nightmare. And if that's the case, then... she's gotta be the adult here, scared or not.

Reaching up to take her hand, Pepa struggles her way out of the hole, immediately embracing Mirabel just a little too tightly. "Are you all right? Where ARE we?"

Mirabel hugs back, relieved that she isn't alone either. Honestly? She's been terrified. She wasn't sure if her family was here, if they were okay - or if she was alone here. By herself. In this graveyard.

"I'm... okay." Not like, SUPER okay, but as okay as she can be for someone who just woke up in a grave. "I don't know where we are - I woke up in one of those graves too."

The hug helps, it really does - she pets Mirabel's head, kissing the top of it as her wide eyes dart around their surroundings. Her eyes fall on the headstone of the grave she just climbed out of, and she shudders to see her own name there.

Pulling back, she rests her hands on the girl's shoulders, trying - and failing - to keep her voice calm and even.

"It's all right, I'm here - I'm here, mija. Have you seen anyone else? Felix, o-or Julieta, or - anyone?"

Edited 2022-02-06 13:55 (UTC)

The words and the small kiss is comforting. She'll just continue to hug Pepa, afraid of letting go. Mirabel wants to be comforting too, she wants to tell her that the rest of the family is here and they're going to be okay, but...

"I-I haven't seen anyone else. Mamá is not here, and I haven't seen Tio Felix either..."

[Now, Alphinaud is no stranger to dealing with folks hawking their wares to him on the streets. He's been in the thick of each of the city states for more than enough time to have run into his fair share, and he likes to think himself street savvy enough to not get too caught up in it all. He has places to be and more important matters to attend to at the best of times, after all. Though, that holds less water here when the pamphlets being handed out are not only pertinent to what's going on here, but are...well, free.

Not that he considers himself to be particularly stingy with funds, but still. He's relatively sure Eorzean Gil isn't common here, and last he checked his pockets he hadn't even arrived with any on his person...

All that to say that yes, he does have one more of those, Timekeeper. It's one that he was busy reading through himself as he made his way down the street, though certainly not as absorbed as she to nearly run into one another. He manages to stop before she quite gets to him, blinking a time or two as he gives her a brief once over.]

Oh! Ah...

[Pursing his lips, the Elezen looks at the slightly wrinkled pamphlet he's still holding. Is he missing something, here?]

Pray forgive my rudeness, but...don't all of these have the same information?

["Why could you possibly need MORE," lingers on the tip of his tongue, but he manages to stay himself from actually saying that. He sure is thinking it real hard though.]

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Page 27 of 32

TDM: JANUARY/FEBRUARY

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Timekeeper Cookie | Cookie Run

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Donna Beneviento | Resident Evil: Village

Pepa Madrigal | Encanto

The graveyard

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Scenario Two: City