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

Wednesday Addams | Wednesday

[snaptwice]

When the sun comes down, and the moon comes up - The Ship

[When she cracks her eyes open, there is a skull grinning back at her from a couple inches away. For most people, this would probably be jarring, upsetting, bizarre, grounds for utter panic. That would, to most of the population, be a reasonable reaction. Fear.

For Wednesday Addams, she just thinks for a moment she’s back in her childhood home. The scent of water and the rock of the ship, however, quickly free her of that notion.

Unconcerned with the dead lying about around her, she smooths out her dark braids, brushing the dust from her dress and drawing herself up to her feet. All limbs accounted for. No injuries. Boring kidnapper. One of the skeletons nearby has a knife sheathed against its ribs - with no hesitation, she takes it, tucking it into her boot before going topside.

She probably looks a sight, standing on the deck of the ship. A black spot in the fog, surveying the horizon with no smile and wide, dark eyes.

This isn’t home. It isn’t Nevermore either.

The dock is getting nearer, the city slowly becoming visible through the mist and fog.]

...Interesting.


I turn into a teenage Goo Goo Muck - Lost in the Streets

[It’s much less that Wednesday is lost than it is that she would much rather explore her surroundings on her own terms. Well-intentioned strangers brandishing their literature are met with an incredulous stare and no words of thanks, and it takes little time for the rest to begin to give the strange, unblinking young woman a wide berth.

She’s used to it, after all. She can see it, in her peripheral vision. The whispering. The fearful and angry glances.

The potential for torches and pitchforks.

Well. Maybe if she’s really lucky.

After some wandering, she perches on a bench on the streets of Bavan, beginning to leaf through the brochures. Vampires. Werewolves. Nothing new or exciting, wherever she is. This idea of turning into one of them, though…now that IS interesting.

A pale hand moves to take up the next literature from the pile - but a gust of wind sweeps it up, carrying it a few feet away.

To land near you, perhaps.]


Yeah I cruise through the city and I roam the street - Network

< ViperDeLaMuerte >

Sure. I’ll play your puerile little game.

One - I performed my first autopsy when I was seven.
Two - I have built a high tolerance to electric shock.
Three - I have been kicked out of seven high schools.


Looking for something that is nice to eat - Changes - Faerie CWs - body horror, transformation aftermath gore

[It was always going to hurt. She knew that part from the outset, and her pain tolerance is remarkable for a girl of sixteen; theory, however, is one thing, and practice is another.

It seemed that these changes were pretty consistent in their timing, from what others who had been brought to this world had been saying - so Wednesday had been ready and waiting when the day came and the Fog rolled in. She had turned outside in a park in Bavan, and now sits surrounded by splatters of her own flesh and blood.

She muses to herself as she writes in a little black notebook, new antennae twitching with focus. A pair of translucent, angular wings quiver where they jut out from the horror show that is the back of her dress.]

...Insectoid features...wings. Feel lighter...flight, may be possible. Must test.

The wings look like a hornet's, and - HHH-

[An experimental flutter sends pain lancing through her tender back - she doubles over, gritting her teeth.

It's fine. She's fine.]


Wildcard

((Go for it! Wednesday is 16 years old, if that changes what you would tag with. Feel free to plot with me on Plurk at Vincira!))

Streets

[bugbeverage]

<sub>[That paper goes a-fluttering. The wind is strong in Bavan today as the sheer force of it impales the pamphlet right onto one of the Minotaur's horns as he leans against a brick wall, banjolele in hand.]

[He looks up from strumming, a brow lifted as his rough fingers pluck the strings.]</sub>

Talk about in-your-face advertising!

[snaptwice]

[Dark eyes follow the path of the paper as it...finds its way onto the horn of a grimy-looking minotaur. Hm. Well, better than some pearl-clutching local, she guesses.

It's only a moment before she's up and standing right in front of him, looking up at him with an unblinking, deadpan expression.]

I was about to read that.

[bugbeverage]

_{[Is this a kid or a billboard? Yeesh.]}

Oh yeah? You know, this is littering. It's affecting the wildlife--me. I'm the wildlife.

[snaptwice]

If you were brought here, and you turned, that makes me the wildlife too. It just hasn't started for me yet. Either way, yes. It affects the wildlife. Like everything else people do to a planet.

[She doesn't seem much moved by the idea of harming wildlife. Or by the idea of harming this minotaur. Hard to say.

The girl pauses thoughtfully, before adding:]

But if you're living it, I can ask you to cut the nonsense, anyway. Did you turn into a monster like this garbage says?

[bugbeverage]

_{[He flutters his lashes as Wednesday shoots down his banter and then burns the body. WELL! He reaches up to pluck the paper off his horn and pass it back to her.]}

Sure did--but there's no guarantee you'll stay the same monster for long. I was a Naga first. I miss it. I could eat a guy whole.

Network; <MrBrightside>

[luckless]

Hm... is it two? I can't ever imagine getting used to electric shock.

[And yet, the other two options seem feasible??]

< ViperDeLaMuerte >

[snaptwice]

Incorrect. There was an electric chair in my childhood playroom for years.

<MrBrightside>

[luckless]

I see... an electric chair in your playroom? Your childhood must've been exciting! I've had my fair share of thrilling experiences, but I don't think I would willingly sit in one of those.

Then... is it getting expelled?

[We're still just going to neglect the autopsy—]

< ViperDeLaMuerte >

[snaptwice]

My childhood was an endless parade of horror, darkness, and despair. It was everything a child could ask for.

No. That one is true, too.

Changes

[waitingforplayer2]

Hey, hey! Are you all right?

[ A tiny blue light flits through the fog towards Wednesday. On closer inspection, the light is actually a tiny blue girl, hovering on dragonfly wings. ]

You're new, right? Are you still healing...?

[snaptwice]

I'm fine.

[Blearily, the girl slits her eyes open to look towards the small voice - and before they can adjust, briefly, she wonders if she's looking at some sort of will o' the wisp.

But no. Looks like some kind of...faerie? Right. That's probably what she is now, too.

Her expression levels a fraction - still twisted with pain at the edges, but unblinking, sharp.]

...Yes. I'm new. I think...I am starting to heal. But I can't see my own back. Look back there, tell me how it looks?

Don't spare the details.

< SPEAKING.IN.TONGUES. >

[seacub]

[What do you mean these are not mostly normal things-]

With how electrical damage works, depending on the type of shock, you would really need pain resistance more than anything, so I think the third option?

Schools tolerate some fairly serious things I heard. A highschool also only runs for four sets of 6 months typically, so it isn't a lot of time for someone to get expelled, find a new school, and repeat.

< ViperDeLaMuerte >

[snaptwice]

Interesting theory.

But incorrect. I realize the expulsions were quick. None of those places could contain me.

< SPEAKING.IN.TONGUES. > gently sets my face in my hands

[seacub]

Haha, well, I was thinking about the enrollment part actually.

I heard that public schools can take a pretty long time to process paperwork. That's probably just anything government funded though...other than something like the military maybe.

If it isn't that one though...The pain resistance then?

If you live in a certain place, helping with an autopsy isn't surprising I think.

< ViperDeLaMuerte >

[snaptwice]

My family has money. You'd be surprised how fast that makes the sordid wheels of bureaucracy spin.

And no. Wrong again. The first one is the lie.

I was six when I performed my first autopsy. By myself.

The Ship

[exceptionaleveryman]

[It won't take long for Wednesday to notice a strange man also on the deck of the boat. He looks over at her before staring back out at the ocean.]

...I can't disagree there.

[... A lively conversation partner.]

the world's most monochrome moment

[snaptwice]

[This man isn't lively, no. But that's how she prefers it, anyhow.]

Did you wake up below, too? With the dead?

<redrose>

[grows_on_me]

if the others are true I think you’ve been kicked out of way more than 7 high schools

< ViperDeLaMuerte >

[snaptwice]

If only.

But no. That one is true.

<redrose>

[grows_on_me]

ok

these are all a lot um

is the autopsy thing the lie? or the electric shock?

< ViperDeLaMuerte >

[snaptwice]

The autopsy. I performed my first one when I was six, not seven.

['A lot' doesn't even begin to cover it with Wednesday.]

streets. this is maybe silly.

[paintitpink]

[ Bavan is, in a lot of ways, sort of reminiscent of Jericho. But like, on a bigger scale, definitely a city rather than the image of a quaint little town. For the most part, it's something about the populace themselves, their wariness and reluctance is all very familiar. It's why Enid doesn't give it too much thought that some people are clearly and very actively avoiding her as she walks along, clad in a knitted pink sweater, and with an odd bounce in her step, or when they seem to part for someone else walking along the streets.

It isn't until she glances to see who they're parting for that she sees a familiar figure and a pair of braids round a corner and vanish out of sight. Could it be…? Excitement quickly gets the better of her, and she rushes off after the figure, only to be met with an errant pamphlet caught in the wind, blowing about her face. Clumsily and haphazardly, Enid makes a reach for it, swatting at the offending paper and catching it — and crumpling it — before she practically frolics to the girl sat on the bench. ]

Howdy, roomie!

[ There's a visible grin forming across her face, as she smooths out the pamphlet and holds it out to Wednesday. ]

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS

[snaptwice]

[Figuring the other pamphlet was a loss, Wednesday had easily moved on to the next one, engrossing herself in a ham-handed attempt to explain life as a Shade (Dwelling as a non-corporeal denizen of the shadows. Neat.) -

Until she hears the voice, and her head snaps up. Dark eyes land first on the pamphlet, then on the colorful nails clutching it, following up the attached arms until she's staring wide-eyed into Enid's grinning face. She doesn't smile, she doesn't blink...but on the Wednesday scale? The reaction is immense.

She stands, immediately throwing down the pamphlet onto the pile on the bench.]

Enid. You're here. I thought I was the only one.

[paintitpink]

[ Anyone else might consider an unblinking stare to be disconcerting, Enid takes it in her stride. There's an odd comfort to be found in Wednesday's ominous eyes, after all — because it's undoubtedly her. She rocks to and fro on her feet, arms lifting from her sides, questioning whether it's acceptable to throw her arms around the shoulders of her not-fond-of-hugs bestie. In the end, she decides against it, her gesture instead looking as if she's merely showing herself off before bringing her hands in to her chest for warmth. ]

Mhm! It's been a couple of days… When I first got here, I couldn't see anyone else we knew, so I decided to search, see if I could find anyone else — some of the people I spoke to said that not everyone who arrives here does so at the same time or in the same place, you know. [ Said matter-of-factly. ] Aaand when I didn't find anyone, I thought the same as you.

[ She did look, but mostly, she got kind of lost. Bavan is way bigger than she's used to, and then there's more outside of the city. And then she was hit with the grim reality that maybe no one else she knew was here, just herself and a bunch of strangers, once again neatly divided up into us and them — a different moniker doesn't make it any better. It quickly became overwhelming. ]

I'm really glad you're here, though. Even if this place is kinda weird, huh?