TDM: SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER

[ryslighelpers]

TDM: SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER

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

(CW: Human remains)

When you awaken, you are hit with an immediate feeling of motion. A bobbing, if you will, or perhaps more of a rocking. You take a deep breath through your nose and take note of salt, along with the pungent scent of rotting wood. Creaking sounds echo all around you. Sitting up, you find yourself locking eyes with a skull.

An entire human skeleton is positioned across from you, resting limply against a pillar. Surveying the rest of your surroundings, you soon realize that you're below deck on an old, dilapidated ship. A ship that's on the move. The crew must have suffered a terrible fate, strewn as they all are across the floor. With their ripped poofy shirts, sheathed cutlasses and jaunty feathered hats, they seem to scream one word at you. "Pirates". ...Ooh, is that an abandoned bottle of rum? And a treasure chest? Surely they won't mind if you help yourself. They're dead, after all!

Once you've ascended the creaky steps, you find yourself on the deck of this vast, once proud vessel. A tattered Jolly Roger flaps overhead. Thick fog obscures most of the ocean surrounding you, but what's that straight ahead? Land ho! The ship's about to make port, and a crowd of curious onlookers has already gathered on the docks to stare up at this spooky new arrival. They appear apprehensive, perhaps even fearful, as if they haven't seen a ship come in for a long time. Will they hold you accountable for what happened to the skeleton crew? Will they praise you for 'ridding' them of pirates and allow you to keep the booty? There's no way to know just yet. Perhaps you'd best hide and find a way to disembark without being seen. Or perhaps there's someone else to be found here on this ship who suffered the same fate; someone who has a better idea of what to do.

SCENARIO TWO

You've stumbled your way into a city, and you're promptly besieged by the overwhelming sights and sounds. 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 lost expression and your clothes- so different from their own- 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. A hefty laptop may be handed to you, with words of a ‘network’ used for communication. Wonder what that’s about? Then there’s the very confusing pamphlet stuffed within: "What To Expect When You're Expecting (To Turn Into A Monster)”. They may direct you to an organisation known as the Lighthouse, their members most prominently found at the 38-8 apartments and the Lighthouse Church. Or perhaps, if you're injured, they'll refer you to the Crowe Clinic instead. Unfortunately, the directions you're given are so very complicated that you lose your way in the streets after two left turns, a right and a left at the soup kitchen.

Take care when asking for more help. 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

Now that you've found a moment of peace, you open up the mysterious device that's been handed to you. Perhaps you'll recognize it as some sort of laptop, albeit an old and clunky one. Or perhaps you'll be astounded by this curious feat of technology, which is unlike anything you've ever seen before. Regardless, the moment the lid is propped open to reveal the screen and the keyboard within, you gain your first glimpse of the network.

Perhaps you'll want to choose a username and write your very first message, posing the pressing question that's on your mind at this very moment. The lettered buttons click and clack awkwardly beneath your fingertips as you type.

However, you may instead want to respond to today's most popular message.

WELCOME TO RSDOS. PRESS F1 TO COMPOSE POST. *** TODAY’S TOP POST *** 018.07.154.55 <JUSTSOMEGUY> Let's play Two Truths, One Lie! It's real easy! You just post three statements about yourself, and the rest of us have to guess the lie. It'll be fun! And you get to be a liar liar without your pants catching fire for a bit.

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

Gladion | Pokemon Adventures

[familyproblem]

1. Rattled

[-Gah!

Seeing that'll wake a guy up real fast.

Minutes later, Gladion is up on his feet and moving. Rather than finding a way up and out, though, his first move is to check the floor. All over the floor, in fact, a scrawny kid in fashionably ripped clothes ducking to peer into corners and gingerly shifting skeletons (with a grimace) to lift their shirts away from the timbers. Thorough, and not clumsy, but unmistakably frantic about it.

An interruption makes him jump. He reflexively slaps at his hip, but of course there's nothing there. Conscious of being alone in the face of possible danger, Gladion rises to his feet, ready to spring into action.]

Who's th-

[He rises to his feet too fast and clocks his head on a beam.]

-ow shit.

2A. Emergency Exit

[This is weird as hell, tbh.

Not the generosity part, that's normal. Maybe. The scale of the city is more like the Megalopolis, but the inexplicably helpful strangers wouldn't be out of place in any Alolan city Gladion's set foot in.

But there's just...something strange about most of them. Gladion thinks, at first, that it's just his own nerves, and he should try to be trusting. But there's something about the interactions that makes him feel cornered. But maybe he's just letting his pride get in the way - but, no, the third unprompted offer of charity has the same cloying feel to it that the first two did. Maybe he doesn't have evidence to prove it, but he's sure these people want something from him.]

Thanks. I'm in a rush.

[Gladion is brusque, flustered and torn between (probably) needing whatever he's being handed and wanting to get away immediately. He snatches the pamphlet and ducks around the woman, walking quickly for about ten feet and then breaking into a run.

He's not quite sure why he did that - the gate of the public park he runs to isn't even around a proper corner, that wasn't a getaway, and he probably just attracted attention - but it's fine, he has more pressing things to think about.

He shoves a hand back through his bangs, getting his shit back together, and looks around for a bench so he can set down the laptop he's hauling around under one arm and read all the handouts he's been given.]

2B. Gluttony

[The moment Gladion finds a place to sit down (the edge of a fountain in a moderately-busy square) and unwrap his lunch (a gifted sandwich, contents unknown), he is accosted by a trio of pigeons.

They mill back and forth near his feet, like pigeons do. And the boy stares openly, staying stock-still, a little wary but mostly bemused and fascinated. For almost a minute his attention is rapt and his hands are unmoving.]

...Hey.

[Being pigeons, the pigeons do not reply.

Gladion picks up his sandwich. Their pacing and circling becomes frenzied for a moment. He pauses again.

He looks around himself. Left. Right. No eyes on him that he can tell. No eyes on the birds either.]

Hungry?

[No reply. His brows furrow, and for a moment Gladion's expression is clouded, pointed at the ground. And the pigeons.]

Me too. Sorry.

[He takes a bite. (The lack of response from the pigeons perturbs him.) And another, watching them do nothing but pace back and forth, picking at nothing on the ground.

Gladion looks up again suddenly, all around himself, and settles down again, and peels a crust off of his sandwich. And then a strip of cheese, and a bit of leafy green, and sets down the sandwich to shred them each into bits. When he leans down to set the whole handful on the ground, the pigeons coo and fuss and swarm the offering. Gladion sits back up slowly, frowning at the commotion.]

I don't have any more.

[The pigeons are unbothered by this.]

4. Early Bird

[Down goes the sun, and up it comes again. And Gladion comes staggering home, fur falling out in clumps behind him, hoodie ripped truly beyond repair now with the sleeves hanging off him and the front tied together mostly by the drawstring. There's little flecks of blood all over his pants, and some on his face from biting through his lip; even as the fur on his arms and shoulders gives way to human skin again, the long canine teeth and black claws on his hands remain.

Werebear fatigue hits like a truck, on top of the basic physical and mental exhaustion of a first transformation. Get home, go through the door, lock it, then sleep all you want, is the plan. But the more of the sun's light creeps over the horizon, the less and less likely it looks that he can make it to his front door under his power, or even his home street. Feet dragging, vision fuzzing, Gladion is seriously considering trying to find a porch to cram himself under, or an abandoned yard, or anything as long as it gets him out of sight before people start waking up and leaving their homes.

The boy staggers and almost faceplants against a streetlight, catching himself with his shoulder and just...leaning against it for a moment. If he closes his eyes, he's going to fall over right here. So he won't. He just...needs a moment.]

1

[makesascene]

Oof, now that's what I call a head injury! [Leo had woken up earlier on the ship and had come back to see there was someone else alive present. He had been poking around one deck, admiring the scenery and mostly talking to himself.

Now, sadly Gladion is Leo's unwilling audience.] You better not knock anything too lose, blondie. Dunno if we can fix it out here.

so excited to rp again i let my brain fall straight out of my ears and forgot about humanization.

[familyproblem]

[Gently touching the impact point to make sure he's not bleeding, Gladion shuffles forward enough to clear the beam and stands up again.

Slowly.]

What the hell, [he mumbles to himself on the way up. Who is this, he asks himself, and fails to come up with any answer that makes sense.

So, assuming that Leo at best understands more about the situation than he does and at worst is responsible for it somehow, his first response is just a glare of wary suspicion. It might have been an intimidating look if he appeared to pose any threat whatsoever.]

lol, you're good! I forgot to mention it in my narration anyway

[makesascene]

So, I'm sure you're asking yourself, who is this handsome, debonair, extremely talented man before you? [Leo does not even wait for a proper greeting, just plowing onwards. He must fill the silence immediately.

The dark haired teenager is shirtless and covered in a variety of odd marking son his body. The two red ones on his cheeks under his masks are especially hard to miss. He presses a hand against his chest for dramatic effect.] Weeeell! I'm Leonardo!

We're trapped on what appears to be a ghost ship! It's manned by a... [Pause for dramatic effect] skeleton crew.

1/2

[familyproblem]

[

2/2

[familyproblem]

ok.]

Did Ryuki send you?

[canon joke for a moment sorry one sec while he processes the dignity injury]

4 (hello new baby)

[cratecrasher]

[Helpfully, there's somebody who's nonchalantly making his way through the city at this time of the morning. Somebody covered in bright orange fur, looking like a scrawny Emboar without its signature fire or ornate fur pattern.

The pig minotaur sniffed briefly at the kid if he was too out of it to flinch but more firmly checks if it was possible to get Gladion's attention by giving him a gentle poke. While the former mutant might've asked if the kid was okay, he doesn't look okay.]

[familyproblem]

[A shape that size and color raises an instinctive mix of alarm bells and possible relief. Maybe, like, one alarm bell. It's a Pokemon. No it's not a Pokemon. It's a monster. That gives it about the same odds of being dangerous or helpful, so yeah okay it's functionally a Pokemon, despite actually being a human.

Oh god he is so tired.

Gladion gets a paw around the post and pushes his face away from it enough to look up, his ears twitching sluggishly.]

Hhhnh.

[Your guess is as good as anyone's as to what that means.

Once a few seconds have passed and Gladion hasn't yet been smashed into a paste, indicating that Crash's intentions are probably at least benign and that Gladion should...probably take this as a sign or opportunity to keep moving, he tries to stand up properly, stepping back from the post and not tipping over in the other direction, his energy levels in absolute freefall the whole time.

Hang on. He's got this. He's definitely got this. (He's not got this)]

[cratecrasher]

[Yeah, nope, he's not gonna let an imminent fall into the pavement happen. Crash grasped the bear kid by hooking his arm hooked underneath the formerly sleeved arm, his grip just as careful as the earlier poke, but there's rippling strength hiding beneath it.]

Is okay...!

[Finally speaking.... and uh... breaking the entire Pokemon illusion while he's at it.]

I'll help. Where are you going?

[familyproblem]

[This is thoroughly embarrassing. But Gladion's strength really is just slipping away moment to moment, like water swirling right down the drain, and having something to lean on just seems to make it go faster. He needs to move. But...he doesn't think he can split his attention to move and talk anymore. He needs to say something.

Gladion kind of sags in Crash's grip, not quite about to slump over completely but easily within a minute or two of being at that point.]

...'partment. Three oh five. [Mumble mumble.]

4

[ibalsamina]

[When Lusamine spots the figure on her return to her apartment, his back is turned to her, and a combination of the dim light of dawn, his hunched-over posture, and his new, monstrous features renders him unrecognizable. It is about time for the latest arrivals to be experiencing their first changes, after all; she assumes—so very wrongly—that he is just another new face for her to meet and offer her help to.

Though she isn't a Werebear herself any longer, she understands well the fatigue brought on by the transformation, and the memory of it fills her with pity—more than enough to prompt her to approach and speak up in a gentle voice.]

Oh dear... Hello there. Are you all right?

[familyproblem]

[If the fatigue were any less supernatural, the jolt of adrenaline that hearing that voice sends through him would easily give him a second wind.

It makes so little sense, though, that Gladion registers it at first as the beginning of some kind of dream sneaking up on him, like when you're about to drift off and are jerked back awake suddenly by a phantom falling sensation. He physically startles, and slides down along the post to his knees, head swimming.]

What...?

[Maybe a little more aggravated-sounding than he'd have gone for if he weren't rapidly losing lucidity. He's tired and all freaked out now and if there is someone talking then they shouldn't sneak up behind him and and and.]

[ibalsamina]

Oh—! [He falls. On instinct, Lusamine reaches out to steady him, her strength as a monster making it easy to guide him more gently into his seated position.] Careful now...

[For a moment, she's crouched there with him, her hands light on his shoulders and her smile serene, even affectionate. She has the voice and face of his mother, but also antennae, translucent insect's wings resting folded across her back, and skin that glimmers with iridescent color.

In this form and at this proximity, like her own, his changes are not so drastic as to hide his identity any longer. The moment ends at the very second his voice falls on her ears; Lusamine stiffens, sucking in a sharp breath and snatching her hands away as if touching him had burned her, and lurches upright to her feet. Realization makes her head spin.]

You...! [It's him—wretch, thief, traitor—and now he's here, and transformed. How long has he been here, waiting to spring this trap? Incensed and suddenly very dizzy, she finds herself struggling to form words.] What... How...?

[familyproblem]

[He's awake...he thinks. So why is he still hearing...

Gladion lifts his head enough to see her hair and - that's - that isn't possible. (She jumps away.) And yet, it sounds like her, so he needs to know. The red-hot loop of adrenaline spinning in his chest gives him enough dizzy strength to spin around and fall back on his rear, and look up at oh my god she fused with something else.

Gladion's jaw drops, and works for a moment without words actually coming out. (She gasps questions at him.) This makes no sense. And he's not ready. He didn't come prepared for an argument, so she'll talk circles around him if he tries to stand up to her, but she has him cornered so there's no slipping away, so - wait. What? Wait. Is that what's going on? How is she here? What does he...need to...

(His vision is becoming very dark very suddenly-)



That's the limit of Gladion's waning consciousness. He stares up at his mother, wordless and frozen with wide eyes, then just. Slumps back against the lamppost with a weird, almost shocked-sounding sigh, and then crumples further and rolls bonelessly onto the ground, unconscious before he even settles. Another few handfuls of fur fall off of his upper arms on the way, dusting the pavement around him.

Bye.]

2B

[flammadecinis]

[...that sure is a kid talking to pigeons. Alright.

Weirder things have happened, surely. (Just not today. Or in a while.) Rosso debates moving on, letting this kid just have his insane pigeon conversation, but niggling curiosity gets the better of him. Curiosity, and a need to correct this guy on the logistics of pigeons.]

Hey. [Behind you! Hello. :)] Kid. They're fuckin' pigeons.

[familyproblem]

[The pigeons fluster (as pigeons do when someone suddenly draws near) but are ultimately undeterred from their meal (being city pigeons, and thus desensitized to the horrors of the world).

Gladion flusters, twisting around to glare coldly at whoever said that. He doesn't fully understand what it means, but it was obviously meant to raise his hackles, so he has to demonstrate how unraised they are. (lmao)]

What do you want?

[flammadecinis]

You look like a fucking nutcase talking to some birds. [Rosso is not going to answer the question, actually.] They're not gonna talk back.

[Should he butt in? No. But he's doing it anyway. Something-something werewolf instincts say to get up in people's business. You know, like an actual dog—]

[familyproblem]

[The glaredown doubles as an opportunity to figure out what exactly the hell he's looking at here in terms of monster features. This guy barely looks human...but he is. Or formerly was. He's very red.

Gladion is starting to feel like red is his unlucky color.

There's nothing pressing to turn his attention back to for a nice solid cold shoulder, so he just raises an eyebrow. If you don't have a good retort, just...keep it cool.]

2b

[le_mat]

[A slightly older boy spots this and walks over, his foot falls and voice so soft and even that the birds don't even look up]

Lot of people don't like pigeons. I always kinda thought they were cute. Like they'd feel really squishy to pick up.

[familyproblem]

[Now there's some unprompted food for thought. Confirms what he'd suspected, too. They're an abundantly common species, so they're considered plain and uninteresting and get mistreated for it. He can't kin that but he can certainly sympathize.

Gladion casually sizes up the stranger on his approach.]

You live around here?

[le_mat]

Just arrived. But they're pretty common where I'm from too.

[His clothing, while not especially exciting, doesn't quite mesh with the locals either]

[familyproblem]

[Noted. As is the tact.

Gladion nods, takes another bite of his sandwich, and chews in contemplative, as-comfortable-as-possible-under-current-conditions silence, leaning on his elbows and watching the pigeons. There's a lot on his mind to go through, and surely the stranger understands that, or perhaps shares his predicament. He certainly seems to be perceptive.]

1

[murdererofmiracles]

[ Carol is checking as many rooms as she can, trying to see if she can find anything useful, or even just a hint as to where she is. This is how she ends up opening the door to where Gladion has woken up, which results in that comedic sight. ]

Heh, idiot.

[ Alright, who is this sassy lost child who is immediately closing the door and leaving? Rude. ]

[familyproblem]

[



what the fuck!! get back here!!!]

Hey-!

[Mainly because any sign of life that's not one of the three to six other people known to be in Ultra Space is concerning under normal circumstances and extremely weird and deserving of immediate investigation under these circumstances.

But certainly aggravated by the, uh, unprovoked aggravation.

Gladion is in hot pursuit.]

[murdererofmiracles]

[ "Unprovoked aggravation" is gonna be something people are gonna have to get used to with Carol. Worse if you do actually provoke her first.

Still, she figured that she wouldn't really get away that easily. Normally she would've just done some alchemy magic to turn herself invisible, just fuck with the kid for a bit, but alas... not an option. Plus, she'd like some answers... even if there's a good chance the kid is just as clueless as she is.

In any case, she's leaning against a wall nearby, not at all far from the door she just closed... and also looking excessively smug for her childish appearance. ]

Try not to hit your head again. This thing already looks like it's gonna fall apart any second now.

[ Seriously, it's more surprising that the ship is floating at all in this state, but she's not complaining. ]