graveyardsmash | TDM: MARCH/APRIL

Entry tags:

test drive

TDM: MARCH/APRIL

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.

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1. Sweet Dee Gets Lost (City)

[Dee has had a lot of bad days and a lot of bad nights, but she doesn't think she's woken up in a grave yet. She catches a whiff of damp dirt and grass, and she scrunches her nose up, rising slowly from the ditch, fingers clawing at the soggy ground. It isn't lost on her that her name is inscribed on the gravestone, and she's expecting someone to jump out from behind one of the other gravestones to jeer at her, but nothing happens. Nothing happens at all. She expects mockery and gets silence instead. Weird.

By some strange miracle, she manages to stumble out of the graveyard without incident, her feet bare and bleeding and her clothes torn. Her hair is matted, skin caked with dirt, and her head is pounding like she's recovering from the worst hangover ever. And it doesn't take her too long to figure out that she's... far from home.]

Oh, goddamnit! [Her voice rises several octaves as she looks around, trying to figure out where the hell she is. Nothing is remotely familiar, and there a strange woman standing across the road who keeps glaring at her for no discernable reason. It's quickly starting to make her feel uncomfortable. Dee pats her pockets, searching for a phone that isn't there, whilst shooting quick glances at the woman who is still staring at her.]

Hey! Hello! Is there some kind of problem? [She finally snaps, waving her hand at the woman. She's still staring. Hell, she isn't even blinking. Dee clicks her fingers this time, like it's going to help snap the woman out of... whatever is happening here. She seems kind of pissed about something.]

Hello?

2. Dee Finds Her Wings (Transformation | Harpy) [CW: Blood, skin trauma/ripping, gore]

[The pain hits her suddenly, forcing her to fall to her knees. Nausea builds up in her gut and rises to her throat, and her entire body shudders in agony. She's endured pain before, but this is on a whole new level. This pain spreads from her shoulder blades to every other muscle in her body, and makes it hard for her to breath. To think.]

Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. Oh, that does not feel good. [She pants, nails scratching at the ground, and her head bowed so her blonde hair obscures her twisted features. She feels something snap, hears a sick tearing sound, and feels something begin to push it's way out from her back, pushing through muscle and flesh and skin.]

Stop. Please stop.

3. Dee Finds Her Wings (Part 2) (Post-Transformation | Harpy)

[Perhaps some kind soul has taken Deandra into their home to finish her transformation behind closed doors. Or perhaps she's been left on the street to deal with this on her own... which is exactly what she would expect. Either way, the worst of it seems to be over. She wipes her mouth, sniffs and picks herself up from the ground. She stumbles forward and turns to face her reflection in a window.

And that's when she sees them.

Her eyes widen at the sight: two large, brown wings protruding from her back. She manages to move them, and oh, that feels weird. That does not feel right at all.

Bird wings. She has bird wings now.]

Oh, come on!

[ New people again, huh? Lanzhu had noticed the increase in activity again, choosing to participate in one of her favorite activities: Spooking newbies. Watching from an alley, she heard the utter sharpness of Dee's voice and shifted eyes to her and the pamphlet lady. The Lich woman took full advantage of her body's abilities to shift and disassemble itself whenever she liked and thus crouched down in the shadows... Letting one of her black-gloved hands creep along the ground like a ghastly cartoon.

Long fingers tapped Dee's heel, scurrying about her feet! ]

[The staring woman doesn't respond to Dee despite her outbursts, and Dee can feel her blood beginning to boil. Her temper is rising because this imbecile of a person keeps looking at her like she's the worst person in the universe, and she hasn't even done anything to deserve it. She's so caught up in her anger that she doesn't notice the hand scurrying along the ground until it taps at her bare heel. Dee stops yelling, looks down to see the disembodied hand moving about, and she takes a sharp breath, stumbling backward.]

What the hell is that?!

[She gasps and shrieks simultaneously, blue eyes wide with shock. Her foot kicks out at the hand, and then she makes a bold attempt to stomp on it.]

Ew!

[the door to the store in question opens, and Ronstadt stumbles out, blood soaking one sleeve of his shirt. his hair has already reconfigured itself into a bright yellow cockatoo crest, and there's blood on his fingers from where he scratched too hard at an incoming feather and paid for it. and continues to, even as he's wrestling off his shirt so he can tie it around his bleeding arm]

Crap. Crap. A month already? Where the hell did they say the clinic was --

[Dee hears the door open and sees movement in her peripheral vision, so naturally, she quickly turns around and casually leans against the shop window like nothing is wrong. Unfortunately, gigantic brown wings are hard to hide, but you bet she's trying. Of course, this place would turn her into a literal bird, and she doesn't want to deal with anyone pointing that out to her.

She looks at the guy, and her gaze immediately flickers up to the cockatoo crest on the man's head. For just a moment, she stares at him with wide eyes, her brow furrowing as she tries to process the insanity of this situation. She's noticed the blood on his fingers too, but that's the least of her concerns.]

Oh, wow. Look at you.

[She keeps staring at the crest, confused, concerned, and morbidly intrigued all at the same time. An ungraceful snicker follows her words, and she can't seem to stop looking at him. What if that happens to her? Is she going to end up looking ridiculous too?]

You should've seen it before. This is nothing.

[even as he's tying his t-shirt around his arm, he still manages to crack a joke. if Sweet Dee was expecting some beefcake when Ronstadt took off his shirt, she's in for a disappointment - he's thin, almost scrawny. not awful to look at, but not firefighter calendar material by a long shot. he's regretting the move almost instantly, too]

Shit, I forgot how cold it is here. This is not California. But I wasn't going to leave my blood everywhere, either. People might take it as an invitation to an open buffet, you know?

[Her face scrunches up, and a disgusted sound rises in the back of her throat at the thought of some scaly asshole with a taste for human flesh looking at them like they're Happy Meals.

She's trying not to think about it, but she is very aware that she might develop a taste for human flesh eventually, too. An actual taste for human flesh. It's too fucked up, even for her, and she doesn't think she's going to be able to go through with it. She couldn't do it back in Philadelphia That One Time, and there is no way she can do it now.]

That's smart. Yeah. [She nods and takes a couple of steps back. A look of violent anger crosses her sharp features.]

But if some hairy little bitch tries to take a bite out of me, I swear I'll bash their goddamn teeth in.

[Of course, she's only thinking of herself. If this guy gets attacked first? She's running for it.]

You and me both, believe me.

[he offers her a hand, the one not covered in his own blood, thankfully]

Name's Ronstadt. If those wings feel half as bad as my arm does, maybe we should find the clinic together, yeah?

[She accepts his hand, taking it with a surprisingly firm grip. She doesn't know her strength half the time.]

Dee.

[She winces a little at the mention of her wings because she's been hoping that no one would notice. Wishful thinking, of course. People are going to notice the large feathery wings protruding from her back. And then, as anticipated, some jackass will call her a bird, and the ridiculously unfunny name-calling will start all over again. Only it will be strangers making fun of her, instead of the Gang, and she thinks she hates that even more.]

Yeah, let's do that. I'm gonna be honest with you, I'm feeling a little dizzy, which... probably isn't a good thing. I don't wanna pass out in the street.

[A pause.]

I really should have paid more attention to where the clinic actually is.

[Aw, Ronstadt, you jackass, she's embarrassed about the wings, you shouldn't have brought them up. They probably hurt like a son of a bitch, bad enough without you using your charm school flunkie skulls. Quick, do something to make it up to her... He winces and offers her his arm]

Here, you can lean on me. I'm no Lou Ferrigno, but I can at least help you get there. And if I can get us to that building over there -

[he points to a tall structure with a bright blue roof]

- I can find the clinic from there. East of it if you're facing it, somebody told me.

[It's the loud cursing that catches his ear, once he manages to hoof it out of the graveyard. Oh thank god, somebody else with a fucking braincell who's just as pissed with being here, wherever the fuck they are. Quentin's willing to go out on a limb and see who is doing the yelling.

...Well, a blond American woman who looks like a mugged tourist in just as shit shape he is. God he fucking loves tourists, those boastful, proud sons of bitches. Good sources of info, and good distractions in a pinch.

(Look, Quentin knows he's been one of those shithead tourists before, but. He is very much within his right to be a bit of a fucker.)

He tries to make himself look less of a roughed up bloody clown in a mo-cap suit as he straightens up, pushing his hair out of his face, but... maybe he could pass himself off as walking off of a movie shoot or something? Whatever. Info first, then getting his excuses all lined up in a row.]

Lemme guess, bad customer service in this ass-crack of nowhere? Woke up in a grave, all fucked up? Cause if so, we're in the same boat. [Quentin doesn't bother to hide the vague amusement in his voice. The unblinking woman looks like she wants to kick his teeth in, but joke's on her: he has no fear.] You got any clue where we are, or do we gotta rely on the locals to help us out?

[Deandra Reynolds is still glaring at the unblinking woman, her lips forming a thin line and her blue eyes flashing with quiet anger. She hears the stranger but is too busy engaging in this bizarre staring contest to look at him. She hears every word, though, buddy. She's listening, promise.]

Looks like we gotta rely on the locals. But if they're all like this bitch, then we're shit out of luck.

[She punctuates her sentence with a frustrated sigh, her hands settling on her hips. Finally, she turns her attention to the guy, and the first thing she notices is the suit. Of course that's the first thing that Dee notices. She really wants to say something, but she knows this isn't exactly the right time.

But goddamn it, she really wants to say something.]

There has to be one normal person around here, right? They can't all be li-

[She makes the mistake of looking over at the woman mid-sentence. Of course, the local hasn't moved and still doesn't appear to be blinking. How is she even doing that?]

Goddamn it, she is one creepy bitch.

[Emmet was coming back to the graveyard and this time, he was there on a mission to help new arrivals. Just like himself. So, the least he could do was lead them to a more friendly area of town at least.]

[Then he saw Dee, waving, snapping, and looking as if she just crawled out of her own grave. So he did what he thought was best and ran over.]

Hello, I'm Emmet.

[Poor Emmet manages to introduce himself while Dee is mid-rant. She turns to face him, her blue gaze piercing and furious.]

...What!? [That one word sounds more like a high-pitched, confused yelp than anything intelligible. She looks confused too. At least it got her to stop yelling at the woman, right?]

[His eyes widen a little as he looks at Dee, glad he at least diffused the situation with the woman who already probably disliked newcomers. But he kept his smile on and spoke in his monotone.]

Hello, I am Emmet. Did you come from the graveyard?

[Dee takes a deep breath, and holds it for a second while closing her eyes. She knows she shouldn't yell but she wants to yell so badly. This entire situation is absurd.]

Yes. Yes, I came from the graveyard.

[She answers, speaking quickly, with a hint of irritation present in each word.]

Do you live here?

[He keeps on smiling.]

I just arrived here too. But I can take you to a better part of town.

[Away from the people who want to stare, and likes newcomers.]

one
Hal is still stumbling his way out of the graveyard himself. He's having trouble walking in a physical form, but is momentarily distracted from his own clumsiness when he hears a woman loudly shreiking. The vocal patterns of her shouts indicate high stress levels and discomfort. Potentially even danger. And as much as he'd like to focus on understanding what's happened to him, he also has an obligation to assist humans if they are in crisis.

Hal locates the source of the screeching, and awkwardly hobbles over to the woman producing the sound.

She is apparantly involved in an altercation with another woman.

He isn't as adept at analyzing body language as humans are, but even he can tell that she is clearly exhibiting agressive behaviour.

Hal reaches into his database to review the protocol for conflict resolution.

"Pardon me, ma'am" he says "Is everything alright?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

TDM: MARCH/APRIL

Dee Reynolds | It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia

1! always sunny music starts playing

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3 - also harpy, cw: blood

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1, would u like some bastard to bastard communication

omg yes pls

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Re: Dee Reynolds | It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia