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graveyardsmash2022-09-09 09:15 am
ryslighelpers) wrote in graveyardsmash2022-09-09 09:15 am
Entry tags:
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.
Rider | Splatoon manga
[Rider starts when he wakes to a skeleton in front of him, but out of surprise, not horror. His brow quickly knits as he gives a confused frown. He knows what he's looking at, of course. Bones, human ones. They're in museums and science books everywhere. They're not even terribly difficult to find on your own if you dig around in some places, and certainly no fish skeleton looks quite like that, so any inkling would know what they are. But why is he waking up on what looks and feels like a rickety ship with a whole bunch of them all dressed up? Is someone trying to prank him?]
I swear, if I've gotten dragged into- what?
[His hand goes immediately to his mouth, and that's when Rider knows something is truly very wrong. His voice didn't come out right; it sounds flat and alien. He's already pulling himself to his feet, pushing through the numb shock as more and more doesn't add up. The texture of his skin is wrong. His limbs feel oddly stiff. He runs his tongue along his beak, finding instead a row of much smaller individual things in his mouth - teeth. He pulls his hand away again and stares at it, closing it slowly into a fist as he notices the strange... shells? at the tips of his too-rounded fingers and the tiny hairs barely visible against his skin.
He doesn't have to touch his head to conclude that he no longer has tentacles there, but he does anyway, cringing at the soft, stringy feel of what can only be some kind of fur. His ears are tiny and round now, and-
No, stop. He forces his hand back down, shaking himself. He can't think about this right now. He has to get out of here, figure out where he is and who or what is behind this. And whether anyone else he knows is involved, because Rider knows that if the others are here it'll probably be down to him to be the sane one about it.
The first thing he does is search every nook and cranny below decks, though the bottles of rum go ignored altogether and the chests only get a scowl when he pries them open and finds nothing useful inside. His Dynamo Roller doesn't seem to be here anywhere, so he's without a weapon too. If he could even use it like this in the first place.
He may, however, be so focused on his search that he's managed to miss that he's not entirely alone. Bother the intense but shaken looking teen in the leather jacket, or bide your time?]
[Three]
[Getting a laptop handed to him and told that there's an online network is the most strangely comforting thing that's happened to Rider since he arrived. The machine may be bulky and clunky, and he may not have been the biggest user of social media back home, but it's at least something familiar. So, he's sat down on a bench by a main road, and wastes no time in posting without even glancing at the current recent and popular posts.]
< InkyRider > I can already tell that this place is going to be a giant headache, so I have just one question.
Are there any competitive sports around here? Preferably weapons based, but I'll take anything to blow off some steam.
Also, please let me know if anyone sees a blue idiot wearing goggles.
[Four]
[Rider's heard it all plenty of times by now. You'll turn into a monster. It's the fog. There's no way to prevent it. It doesn't sound the least bit pleasant, but he's grumpily resigned himself to the fact that all he can really do is brace himself for it.
The fog still catches him off guard.
He was walking home from the part-time job he'd picked up, and he'd looked down to briefly tally the pay he'd gotten that day. When he looks back up, he can't see a foot in front of him. He slows immediately, cautiously pocketing the money, but on the very next step his foot seems to sink right into the ground.
He stares at it, and for a long moment all that goes through his mind is wondering how on earth he'd managed to lose control of his ink. After slightly too long he remembers that he's no longer an inkling, and his foot really shouldn't be dissolving into a lime green puddle for any reason.
Except one.]
Crap! No, not now...!
[Rider reaches out, trying to grab his leg and pull it back upwards, but that... doesn't really help when said leg is literally becoming goo. It's spreading, too, his form taking on a slick, glossy, semi-transparent greenish sheen as he slowly loses cohesion. It doesn't hurt, exactly, but it feels a lot like very slowly being splatted in a way that's very wrong, and Rider fails to pull himself together before he begins to panic.
He flails at anything he can possibly catch hold of - the streetlight next to him, a passerby, even the ground itself once he sinks low enough, but it's all in vain. His fingers turn to mush at the slightest pressure, slipping around whatever he tries to grab, and by the time he thinks to call for help all he can make is a pathetic gurgling noise. Eventually, whether or not anyone has come, all that's left is a large green puddle of slime.
...With a leather jacket, some athletic shorts, and a pair of boots floating in it.]
4
But... Hinata's been a slime for months and months now. He doesn't usually have THIS much trouble reforming... did something happen?...
The treegirl crawls cautiously up to the puddle, inspecting it, looking for her best friend's trademark red eye. ]
Hinata-kun... are you alright?... [ It's then that she spots the clothes floating in the slime. Hmm... ]
no subject
But in the next moment something abruptly condenses inside the puddle, and Nanami might catch a glimpse of a translucent orb with something arrow-shaped inside it - like a cartoon squid egg.
That's the moment that Rider's awareness suddenly re-emerges as well. He's only vaguely aware of an unfamiliar voice, unable to pick out the actual words, as instinct kicks in and his shape begins to pull back together. Lucky him, an inkling certainly already has plenty of experience in shifting forms.
A humanoid torso starts to re-form as the puddle pulls upwards, and he gasps out of reflex moreso than actually needing to anymore. For all that Rider has begrudgingly grown accustomed to being human in the past month, however, the form he automatically conjures now, is... much closer to his old one. The large, pointed ears and particular shape of his "ponytail" are dead giveaways, even while still dripping with slime. His color, too, darkens as his form emerges, becoming nearly black dotted with lime green spots.]
What? W-who's there?
[His vision is slowly clearing as his head becomes more defined - but there's a discoloration on the right side of his face and ear, the slime there swirling a multicolored teal.]
no subject
[ It's not Hinata. It's someone new. And as he reforms from the goop, she actually gasps - she sure recognizes that look, the way he is! ]
You're-- you're a squid! A squid kid!
no subject
It'd be a relief to see if his hand wasn't also partly see-through. Or black with green spots.]
Not... anymore?
[The weak squeak of a response is all he can manage. Even if the change hadn't exactly hurt, it sure had happened all at once, and the wooziness is just starting to hit him. He swoons for a moment, not quite passing out but collapsing back onto his elbow - whoops, not a discernible elbow anymore, as his shape wavers and collapses slightly with him. That's okay he'll just. Rest on the blob his arm turned into this is fine. His legs haven't reformed at all to begin with, his lower half remaining a puddle that's slowly condensing in towards him.]
no subject
[ She holds out a hand to him - it's made entirely of leaves, or at least seems to be - there's sharp claws at the end of it, not that that'll matter much to somebody recently turned into goop. ]
Take my hand. I'll help you up-- it takes practice to form, at first, I think.
no subject
[Accepting help. That's still hard, a lot of the time. But Rider's in no condition to even consider refusing, and he does his best to place a half-formed hand in hers, leaning his weight into it and letting her pull him upwards. It's... not actually that different from ink, honestly. It just seems that his body won't solidify no matter what, like this. Rider glances down at himself as Nanami helps him upwards, thinking he should focus on getting his legs back -
-and then the clothes that slid off him to the ground catch his eye. His expression immediately becomes strained, with a bit of a shudder.]
Oh hell. Don't tell me I shifted right out of my clothes-!
[Goggles is never finding out about this ever.]
no subject
[ When he's fully upright (or as much as she thinks he's gonna be) she carefully lets go of his hand. Just long enough to scoop up his slimy clothes, and tuck them under her arm.
Then she goes to take his hand again, if she can, if it's still there. ]
How are you feeling?
3 <BlueBlur69>
dude
i dont think paintball has been invented yet :|a
<InkyRider>
Wait, forget that. Tell me about paintball.
<BlueBlur69>
ITS FUN its the only weapon based game i can think of. you shoot eachother!!! but instead of bullets its BALLS OF PAINT. hence paintball. paint + ball. paintball
<InkyRider>
That sounds like exactly what I'm looking for. Two questions: are shooters the only weapons involved, and is the focus only on splatting the opponents, not on claiming turf?
<BlueBlur69>
hold the phone my friend
splatting? turf? shooters???? this is sounding kiiiind of familiar
you wouldn't happen to be a squid who is also a kid would you
cause i may have an inkling of what you're talking about >uo
<InkyRider>
[Rider was already paying attention to the prospect of paintball, but now this conversation has 110% of his focus. On the bench, he's leaning forward now, so intent on the screen that he's not even taking in his surroundings. His first instinct is this must be someone from home - albeit not anyone he knows if they didn't peg his username immediately - but then he's never heard of "paintball" back home either. So what's going on?]
<BlueBlur69>
... though theres no reason why we cant INVENT a new game with paint!