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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.
generalized cw for gross, I suppose? unsanitary? it's nasty idk
Some of the learning includes proper first aid, which he wasn't really trusted with before, but all of that knowledge becomes moot in the face of things like this. Everyone changes differently. Sometimes trying to use first aid on monster changes prolongs and worsens it. The best strategy is, unfortunately, to simply weather it.
Gregory only has to do his best impression of a broken Casio keyboard for two seconds before Freddy reaches out and places a cool, gentle, clawed hand on Gregory's cheek, not entirely sure if it will stay there if his touch is any more firm than that.]
It is going to be okay, Gregory. The pain will pass soon.
[He says it with confidence because it's the only thing that he can say with confidence. What is "okay" and what is "soon" is intentionally left vague because it has to be. The only thing that can be done at this point is try to make it easier.
But there is no dignity nor comfort in trying to wait it out here, on a cold and wet sidewalk, surrounded by ogling strangers. Freddy glances over his shoulder and finds that absolutely none of them have been inspired to move on, and he gives them all a disapproving glare for their efforts.
He turns back to Gregory and delicately manipulates his half(?)-endoskeleton arms to loop around Freddy's neck, then envelops Gregory's back and rear with his own arms in a secure enough grip that it won't matter how hard Gregory holds onto his neck. He stands with precarious but successful balance and ends up sinking the sole of his boot into a chunk of discarded thigh.
...For some reason, it feels weird to leave someone's flesh behind like this, but what else is there to do with it? It's not like they can just slot it back on; without a blood supply, it's just rotting meat attached to metal poles.
(Not that we know anyone who would do that.)
The best fate it could possibly have is to simply stick around and hope to get eaten by an opportunistic meat-eating monster and end up, in a roundabout way, preventing someone's death.]
Let us get you somewhere quieter.
["Somewhere quieter" is going to end up being Freddy's apartment, which might not actually be the best kind of place to bring an animatronic body, on account that he's got the place rigged up with humidifiers and space heaters for his own tropical-plant comfort. But at least it's quiet, clean, and private, with laminate-hardwood floors that won't threaten to get permanently stained with blood, a fate much unlike his clothes now that he's carried Gregory all the way here.]
cw: More gross descriptions just probably from here on honestly
It's a good thing Freddy is here and willing to help though, because all of this blood and leftover body parts are no doubt going to be attracting attention sooner rather than later. The blood will draw meat-eaters from all around, and Gregory would stand no chance against them if left to lay in the culvert until his body finished the changes it had started that morning. He doesn't try to speak further (every attempt is raw and pained, and there's a moment where he starts to cough when Freddy lifts him into his arms, spitting blood over the Nymph's shoulder) as a mechanical voice box works its way into replacing his vocal chords as the changes spread to form a complete endoskeleton core.
He's effectively dead weight currently, but when his arms are guided around Freddy's neck he will at least do his best to keep them there, shivering when he realizes- somehow- he can feel things pressing up against the cold metal of his body. It doesn't make sense that those sensations are still there, but they very much are, along with all of the pain besides. By the time Freddy has carried Gregory to his apartment, Gregory has gone...uncomfortably still. He isn't dead, but by all accounts you'd not be blamed if you weren't sure at a glance. It seems that fate had for once taken pity on him, allowing him to pass out sometime between here and there so that the rest of the changes could occur without him being conscious for them. Fortunately for Freddy's floors, the flesh has ceased falling from his body for now. It's difficult to say if and when the rest will go, but at present the points where the endo meets the skin have managed to cauterize in the way the flesh just sort of...meshes with the metal in a way that would seem uncanny if the two hadn't seen it before. Save for some residual bleeding, there won't be too much for Freddy to deal with that hasn't already seeped into his clothing.
Eventually, Gregory stirs and regains consciousness, and depending on how light or dark it is in the apartment, the first thing Freddy might notice is the fact that Gregory's eyes are indeed glowing. There's a soft, almost inaudible snap to the way he blinks, like the shutter of a camera going off as he cranes his neck carefully to look at Freddy, blearily but at the very least aware. When he does try to talk again, his voice is a bit clearer despite the distortion it fights against as his body acclimates to the new parts inside.]
Fr-..eddy...s'ta' you...? W-here...
no subject
When Gregory starts moving again, Freddy loosens his arm around his back so that the two of them can look at each other. That's when he notices the changes to his eyes -- and Freddy's mouth pulls into a very unamused line, but draws no more attention to it than that.
He can't really make sense of most of what he's saying, but what he can make out...]
We are in my apartment.
[This might come as a surprise to anyone who is familiar with what Freddy's room looked like in the Pizzaplex. Instead of being full to the brim of Freddy Fazbear merch and children's drawings, it's clean and minimal. In fact, it looks like it's been staged for someone to come by and take B-roll for the apartment complex or a home goods catalog, almost as if it's completely unlived in. The only hints otherwise is the fact that there is trash in the bins and a few dishes resting on a kitchen towel next to the sink, left to air-dry before he left for the day.
Now that he has (1) privacy and (2) a say in his own interior decorating and (3) no motivation to push merchandise, the result is obviously a stark change.]
How are you feeling? You were out for a while.
no subject
Right now though, all he can think about is how dizzy he feels. His body still hurts pretty badly, but the initial agony of the way his body had so dramatically changed has somehow subsided into a worrying numbness, throbbing dully in the background. It's a good thing that Freddy chose to keep holding Gregory, because it's unlikely he could stand right now.
And, well...he'd been doing a good job keeping himself from crying, so far. He isn't a kid who is the type to just cry at the drop of a hat, but this is a special circumstance. He's in a lot of pain, and what that pain brought with it is genuinely pretty terrifying. Especially when the last time he saw someone who was half human, half endoskeleton...well.
They were a corpse, which he's starting to think he might become soon enough.
Yet, despite how much he feels like shedding tears...he can't. It aches behind his eyes, yet the tears refuse to come. Maybe they can't, anymore.]
Hurts...
[He finally supplies, the first full word he's managed since the changes began. He's refusing to look at his arms or his legs right now, instead keeping his gaze focused on Freddy's face so he isn't tempted to let his eyes wander.
no subject
[He means it, too, now that he knows what pain is instead of just a simulation of it.]
I have some pain medication. I do not know if it will work, but we can give it a shot if you want to try.
[It would be a good idea to go the bathroom in general, so that both of them can clean up a little bit -- so he's already moving towards it, regardless of Gregory's choice.
It's as devoid of personality as the rest of the apartment.]
no subject
Gregory gives a sort of noncommital sound at first, the kind any kid might when asked if they want to take medicine. Of course he doesn't want to, but he also doesn't want to keep hurting as badly as he does right now. He doesn't have much of a choice, and while he may be stubborn, he's not so stubborn as to suffer through this kind of hurt just to avoid some mild inconvenience.]
S'it...gonna taste bad...?
no subject
It does not taste good, [what's the point of not being honest?] but the faster you swallow it down, the less of it you have to taste. That has been my experience with it.
[He pulls open a drawer and pulls out a fairly large bottle of the stuff. He reads the label -- for kids under the age of 12, administer 1 tablet every 4 to 6 hours -- then side-eyes the animatronic legs sticking out of Gregory's blood-soaked pants. One doesn't seem like it'd be enough for this kind of pain, but...better stick to the rules. For now.
He taps one out into an open palm and uses his other hand to fill a nearby glass with faucet water. He holds both of them out to Gregory for him to take, but hesitates for a second and pulls them back.
...
On one hand, Gregory is turning mechanical. On the other, Fazbear electronics were not particularly susceptible to liquids and food. See also: Chica. On the *other* other hand, even though these extremities look like a Fazbear chassis, it might not actually be a Fazbear chassis and just look like one.
Caution to the wind, he holds out the cup again.]
Let us make sure you can still handle fluids first. Try a small sip of water and spit it out if it causes any discomfort.
no subject
Purposeful or no, he's going to have to deal with it whether he likes it or not. As for handling fluids...he will take the cup as it's handed to him, trusting Freddy's judgement on this over his own. He doesn't know much (or anything) about medical care, just that he's afraid that if the pain he's feeling gets any worse, he's not sure he's going to be able to handle it.
So, with a careful breath in, he drinks a sip of the water. Holds it in his mouth tentaitvely for a moment before swallowing, briefly bothered by the way it seems to ache on the way down. Even in the wake of that though, he doesn't feel any sort of adverse side affects...at least, not yet. The water weakness will come, but it seems that his body is going to finish purging itself of all organic matter first, otherwise Gregory's own body is going to clash with his new, mechanical parts.]
I think it'zzz- [Gregory coughs, blinking a few times.] ...okay...my throat kinda hurts though...
[It's the new voicebox no doubt, which currently stands as the only thing somewhat close to the water Gregory is ingesting, but not enough to cause any real problems just yet.
After saying that, however...Gregory does finally look down at his own legs. His arms. It's hard not to when he's sitting upright in a well-lit room, the flourescent lights reflecting harshly off the dark metal.]
Freddy, I'm...g-gonna be okay, right? What if more of me just...falls off...?
no subject
Maybe you should soften the truth around kids. Maybe you should give them false hope of an easier future than reality has to offer. If there's any sort of cultural best-practices on how much to use kid's gloves on...well...kids, it misses Freddy entirely.
Partly because it's not in his nature to lie. Mostly because Freddy has witnessed Gregory voluntarily face gruesome truths and stuck his head in places he shouldn't have, weathered things that even adults would have struggled with, and turned out okay in the end.]
...I am sorry, Gregory, but it is likely that the rest of you will change as well. [Will it fall off exactly? Hard to say. But it will definitely change.] I have not yet met a Simulacrum who retained any of their organic parts.
[A beat--and Freddy raises a hand and puts his fingers through Gregory's hair. Half of it is to comfort the kid, half of it is to comfort himself. He wasn't able to feel things like hair or skin before he'd changed into a human, and while thankfully he retains the ability to even as a plant-hybrid, the window to appreciate how Gregory, the human that helped him find a freedom he had not known before, may very well have an expiration date now.]
I can ask the network if anyone knows of a sedative that could keep you unconscious during the worst of it. Many of us go through difficult transformations -- I am sure someone has found a way to reduce the pain.
[He'd never really bothered to investigate that for himself, because his own changes were simply odd. Weird in all sorts of ways, but painful? Eh, nothing that these painkillers couldn't deal with.]
no subject
So when Freddy gives him the blunt, honest truth, he believes him. It's scary to think that at any random time, he's going to be going through that awful pain again, losing more parts of himself. What's going to happen to his face? His hair? Is he just...going to turn into an animatronic, now? Why? It feels like some sort of cruel joke.
Gregory sniffs, and he lifts his hand to reflexively rub his wrist under his nose, only to stop inches away from almost smacking himself in the face with the metal fingers of his endoskeleton hand. It prompts him to look at it closer for a moment, stiffening when he finds that he can bend the fingers the same as he would if this were his actual hand, the rivets and joints creaking softly with the movement. The only thing that distracts him from contemplating his new form too hard is the way Freddy threads his hand through his scruffy hair, leading to him lowering his hand back down to rest in his lap. The touch...it's nice. It's not something Gregory is used to, but he doesn't hate it.]
I don't want to feel it again. I'm-
[He hesitates, because he doesn't want to say that he's scared. Freddy likely can read between the lines though as his gaze flickers quickly down.]
I'd rather be asleep, or whatever.
no subject
[He gives Gregory a nod of agreement.]
I will see what we can find for you.
[He takes his hand out of his hair and places it on the hand resting in Gregory's lap. Freddy is merely assuming that Gregory doesn't have sensation through his new metal parts -- an experience like his own before he discovered the joys and agonies of having nerve endings -- but it's the gesture itself that feels like the right thing to do in this moment.]
In the meantime, you can stay here if you wish. I have finished my work for today, so I am not going anywhere else tonight.
AKGHK LMAO
And, well. If Freddy is receptive to it? Gregory will sort of...weakly turn his hand over, trying to see if he can actually hold his larger hand. Even as part of an endoskeleton, Gregory hasn't really gained any size, so the metal palm and fingers curling rigidly against Freddy's hand are going to seem very small to him. It's uncanny no doubt, feeling that against his not-metal skin.]
Okay...do you want me to stay in here?
[Gregory can't imagine Freddy wanting him in the main part of his apartment when he could just...start dripping blood and guts everywhere at any moment.]
shhh
Not that they would do much to metal.
It's an unexpected sensation for him. It's tempting to say that he's learning what others felt when they touched his hand back when he was an animatronic, but that's not entirely true, because he never touched anyone with his bare endoskeleton. Nor was his endoskeleton ever so...small. Perceptively delicate, like the mechanisms in a wristwatch, though that might not be the case in practice.
When Gregory's hand stills, Freddy gently presses the pad of his thumb into the back of his hand.
He gives him a sad smile when he asks if he should stay in the bathroom.]
No, that will not be necessary...or comfortable. I have enough towels to line the bed. It is all yours; I have to sleep outside now. But I would recommend coming in here if things start acting up again.
We should clean up first. Although...
[Freddy glances down and wonders how, exactly, they're supposed to clean up a half-organic, half-machine body. It's not like he can just take a bath or shower, right? How the hell did he get clean when he was just synthetic components? And this is the moment where Freddy realizes that he only learned how to clean anything, including himself for the first time, like, a few months ago.]
...hm. Maybe just a wash rag and some warm, soapy water will be enough.
[Freddy's doing his best.]
cw: more gross
When Freddy muses about how best to clean Gregory, he nods as he glances down at himself again, though he doesn't let his eyes linger on the more bloody parts for too long. At least the metal itself isn't quite as bad off as it could be, weirdly enough. The parts of his skin and muscle that were previously attached sloughed off near seamlessly, to the point where it's only in the really small parts like his fingers and toes that you might really need to get to.]
Uh huh...if...if I'm okay with drinking water right now, then maybe the rest of me will be okay too?
[He's no engineer, but maybe they'll be able to capitalize on that for a short window of time.]