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graveyardsmash2022-03-12 09:40 am
ryslighelpers) wrote in graveyardsmash2022-03-12 09:40 am
Entry tags:
TDM: MARCH/APRIL
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.
2, Arcade!
He's far more interested in figuring out how these damned things work with no obvious power source on the outside. One of the small robots keeps bumping into the side of his leg with a mechanical whine, pincers clacking at his clothes ineffectively.
Quentin sounds half-distracted as he pitches his voice to carry.]
An electric fun-house. Neat, ain't it? Think it might be a bit too big for a pipsqueak like you to handle, though. Not unless you're fine with the haunted part of things.
[He doesn't quite believe in the 'changing into a monster' shit either just yet, but he can't deny that there is something wrong around here. Quentin's only succeeding in keeping his emotions in check by focusing on the weirdness of the arcade, and zeroing in on why this place is so advanced while everywhere else feels practically archaic.]
no subject
He moves to stand, but he doesn't make it fully upright. Instead, he remains half crouched, as if that will keep him better hidden in the event that whoever is talking decides to come seek him out. Now, by this point, Gregory has interacted with a few other newcomers and locals besides, but he's likely not made...the best impression with them. Maybe they understood- he's young, he's confused, naturally he's got a lot going on- or maybe they found him to be too abrasive and gave him up as a lost cause. Wouldn't be surprising, honestly...
Gregory had just caught sight of where Quentin is further in the back of the place when what else he says hits him. He scowls, his gaze narrowing as he resists the urge to aim a kick at one of the robots that's getting a little too close to him for comfort, too.]
I can handle it just fine. I've seen way scarier stuff than this place.
I am so sorry for Gregory being exposed to this jerk [minor cw: language in narration]
...Sure, he may break that expectation at some point, but. For the moment he's willing to let his guard down, especially since this is a kid who sounds even younger than Parker had been. He can handle a snot-nosed brat.
Even Gregory's reply being closer than before isn't enough to draw his attention away from the cabinet he's picking at with tools he borrowed off of somebody else's desk. It counts as borrowing even if he returns them in a week, right?]
Oh, really? Lemme guess, aliens? [He scoffs, and the sound is dismissive. Everyone and their dog had something to say about those fuckers.] Videos don't count. Killer robots?
[Quentin only lets go of some wires he was pushing aside to make a 'so-so' hand motion in the air, hopefully somewhere Gregory can see it.] Think those are a bit endangered around here with- y'know. Footage doesn't count for that one either.
[Sure, by now he's definitely seen some of those pseudo-robot people around the arcade, but... When he thinks of killer robots, he means Sokovia. Ultron. Things that would absolutely get fried around this place. He finally looks up from the depths of the machine, leveling Gregory with a very unimpressed look. The minor upside is that Quentin is entirely human, and sitting on the ground still.]
Seriously, kid. You're- what, nine? Ten? You're lucky you haven't been turned into a hors d'oeuvre out there yet.
never be sorry he gives as good as he gets
Gregory watches the back of Quentin's head as he jeers, nearly missing part of what he's said because he's imagining what it would look like if he chucked one of those robots at that stupid fat head of his.]
And what are you, like, a hundred?
[He replies, folding his arms over his chest.]
And it's animatronics. They're not just "robots". [You know, as if Quentin would know.] They couldn't catch me, so I'm not gonna let some werewolf or- or vampire or whatever get me either.
3 more layers of casual misunderstanding later... enjoy a drama man
Hey, I don't look a day over thirty, thank you. [He's 39, and lying brazenly as he lazily points at Gregory. Quentin makes very sure to keep his arm close to his body, though. He doesn't know where this kid has been or if he'll bite.] If I look this good at a hundred, that'll be a thing for the books. Some homegrown super soldier thing in the making.
[Then the last part registers.]
...Animatronics. Is that what they're calling them these days? I'm surprised SI isn't suing your pants off for slander, or for not being creative enough with the name.
[He tries to keep his tone nonchalant as he shifts his focus back to the cabinet, but 'creative' has a certain bitterness dripping from it. Quentin is mildly- no, majorly incensed that even Stark's bullshit Iron Legion turned evil has been given a kiddish term to lessen the weight of it. It's like the Blip bullshit all over again.]
Don't see why a kid like you would have the Legion on your back. Unless you're Spider-Man or something. You seem a little short for him, though.
[Quentin's tone is dubious, but honestly he wouldn't be surprised to learn Gregory stumbled into some misappropriated tech or an illegal dumpsite or something. That sounded like something his ex-employers would do, only to play innocent afterwards. As for the jab at Parker- well. He's allowed to amuse himself.]
But hey. I guess if you outran that shi- stuff, what do I know? I'm just an old man, right? But riddle me this, though- what happens when your legs give out? The monster's reach is a little too long? What if...
[Quentin pauses for dramatic effect, closing his eyes as if recalling some age-old regret. When he continues to speak, he's laced his voice with the kind of dread he'd once spoken of fake monsters with. He's allowed to try and freak the kid out a little, not a jerk move at all.]
...the monsters are already in here with us? What then?
[Someone give him an Oscar, he has EARNED it.]
no subject
He seems to really believe what he's saying to be actual fact though, which explains why his scowl only deepens when he realizes that Quentin is patronizing him. He doesn't interrupt though, choosing instead to keep listening...only for that scowl to swiftly shift into genuine confusion because what on earth is this man going on about? Legion? Spider-Man?
Gregory watches Quentin as he continues like the man's grown a second head, and though he's putting up a decent front of not being phased or scared of anything...he does take a short step back when Quentin suggests the idea that they're not as alone in here as they think they are. It's telling, then, the way Gregory's eyes immediately flicker down to the robots- which have been harmless enough to them so far- as if he's expecting one to take that as its cue to jump up and attack both of them.
Despite the way he can feel his heart in his throat, Gregory looks back up at Quentin with the best deadpan he can muster...but it's marred by the fact that there's definitely doubt glinting behind his eyes now.]
What are you even talking about? None of that makes any sense.
[The stuff Quentin was talking about before, he means. The Spider-Man thing. He wonders if that's something he made up to try to scare him. Superheroes of course exist as a concept given that Gregory is from some semblance of a normal earth (just one with a history rife with haunted pizzareas and dead children), but Quentin having not led with that just leaves Gregory confused.
But the rest of that...he's grimly familiar with as he keeps his arms folded, his hands adopting a tighter grip now on his own upper arms.]
If...if they were, they woulda' come after us by now. They're not sneaky, they'd have no reason to hide.
Beck stop giving kids anxiety challenge (challenge immediately failed)
Animatronics, 'hacked' Iron Man suits? Same difference. The arcade robots definitely filter down into 'roomba' category for him though, ie brainless until equipped for violence.
(...Look, as an Stark intern, you had way too much free time on your hands. No one can ever tie him back to the 'ankle death protocols'. No one. Especially since he's, quite honestly? Probably dead. At least it's interesting, though.)
He doesn't miss Gregory taking a step back, even with the cabinet still cracked open. Gotcha, Quentin thinks, years of practice allowing him to keep a straight face and even tone.]
I'm talkin' about the ways of the world, kid. If you're a bad guy [Like him] then that gets you hunted by killer robots. [Unless you're Aldrich Killian, who got exploded. People who crossed Tony Stark tend to meet messy ends.] If you're not a bad guy... well. Means somebody messed up, and, again, you're a little short for a vigilante.
[It still hasn't quite sunk in for Quentin yet that not necessarily everyone comes from the same world he had. It helps that he hasn't really offered up this much casual info before. Talking points he was used to, even if Gregory is definitely waaaaaay out of the normal range of people he interacted with.
...Oh, monsters have no reason to hide, huh? They aren't sneaky? Ha. Maybe I'm the biggest monster of them all then, he thinks with a sharp sort of amusement. He doesn't let a drop of it show on his face, though, as he continues to mess around with the arcade cabinet. His tone is polite and earnest enough on the surface, but there is an underlying edge of something off about it.]
Are you sure-? I'm not doubting you, but- you gotta admit, kid, things are beyond weird around here. Who knows how the game's changed? Maybe they're lulling us into a false sense of security.
no subject
Quentin especially strikes him as someone to be wary of, and it isn't just the fact that he's a stranger to him. He speaks with confidence and all of the self-assuredness of somebody who believes every word they're saying, and that's honestly more of a leg-up than Gregory has, here. He's not really certain of...well, a lot of things. He's pretty sure he's never been sure of anything in his entire life. Could there be monsters in this place, just waiting to snap at his heels when his guard is down? Sure. He'd have no way of knowing, and no way to defend himself. That's why he has to convince himself that things are okay, at least for a moment.
Not that Quentin is helping much with that.]
I...I mean, I dunno. [He finally answers, looking down at the ground beneath his grubby sneakers. One of the little robots has been bumping into his leg, so he finally lifts a foot so it can pass.] The only reason I came in here was cause it's better than being outside.
[And you know, curiosity killed the cat, etc.
It sucks, because Gregory can't even say "I just want to go home" like a normal kid. He doesn't want to go home, necessarily, because home isn't exactly great either. At least he'd be with Freddy, and he'd be out of that hellhole of a Pizzaplex, but what then? He'd just somehow carve out a life for himself with his new animatronic caretaker?
He'd like to believe that could happen. He might even be able to convince himself it can.]
no subject
Ask him about Ryslig, and see Quentin hem and haw until he's forced to cough up he still honestly doesn't know shit at all. What he does know is the usual scraps and pieces any newcomer could shove together.
...Quentin's just used to having to keep on his toes and being a bit suspicious, is all. Looking underneath the surface to make sure some hidden secret or overlooked detail or whatever won't come back to bite him in the ass. Twice bitten, thrice shy, right? He'd be blindly walking to his own death if he didn't have a bit of a concern about some monster deciding to eat him while he's still 'normal' or whatever.
Quentin takes mild pity on Gregory, though, noticing the pause between words. How there isn't quite that same bite there previously was. Where's the fun in the kid not giving him shit after he pushes?]
...It is better in here, I'll give you that. Lot cleaner, too. I think there's a 'no eating' policy in here, but don't quote me on that. If you had to pick a place to duck into, this ain't too bad. But... that monsters lurking stuff? Just.. think about it, alright? Food for thought. They still teach kids these days about looking gift horses in the mouth, trojan horses, all that shi- stuff, right?
[The last part about 'kids these days' is him teasing Gregory openly, but there's no real bite to it. Just a prod to see if it might help get the kid back on track to vaguely familiar territory. Make things more interesting again.
...It is taking so much effort for him not to swear in front of Gregory, it is astounding he's even managed to keep it up for this long.]
no subject
Would he gleefully repeat a swear in front of Quentin if he slipped up and said it? Abso-fucking-lutely.]
So you are old.
[Hopefully that's the sort of reply Quentin was gunning for, because it was the first thing Gregory decided to zero in on. If nothing else though, it causes a slight smile to twitch at the corners of his lips. Kids these days indeed.]