graveyardsmash | TDM: SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER

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test drive

TDM: SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER

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.

Threaded | Flat

One

[Waking up somewhere new and mysterious? Not that new honestly. Leo just groans his irritation, pressing the butt of his palm against his eyes. His head hurts and he's cold. He's wondering just what he and his brothers were doing to wake up on a ship of all places. The fourteen year old doesn't remember any mysterious ships.]

C'mon, a kidnapping? Isn't this like passé? [He looks at the nearest corpse.] ...Okay, pirates though? Very cool. I'll give you a solid 8 out of 10 for that, only this once. Leon is not a harsh rating mistress! Its freaky, but an excellent scene setting level of freaky.

[He pats at his back expecting to find his Ōdachi's handles. His hand encounters nothing. He tries again, and realizes he can't find the top of his shell either. He blinks blearily before realizing he's a lot more human-y than he normally is.]

Oh.

[He stares at his very human hands. Shock, confusion and a little uncertainty rise to the surface. His expression flickers through a lot in a short period of time as he pushes himself to his feet, glad he has pants, even if he's lacking a shirt. His usual markings are still present at least.]

Woah.

Wait. [He holds his palms up as if to silence anyone nearby. Everyone nearby is dead, Leo.]

Am I hot-?

Three
< TheCoolestTurtle >

Now this, this is my kind of game. Alright, alright, lemme see.

1. I'm the tallest of my siblings, at 6'6.

2. I once was a basketball team's mascot, and encouraged the owner to buy a cursed demonic arch. Like, oops, my bad, but also that arch made people into skilled basketball players. We like defeated the magic and stuff, but still, kinda cool story, right?

3. I have, well had a rad magic Ōdachi. Sadly, she is not with me here and now. Otherwise I'd show you my portal skills. I could zip around this place if I had it!

Edited 2022-09-09 15:03 (UTC)

OOC NOTE: Emporio is going to be played as being Post-Series; as a default, I will be avoiding spoilers for Stone Ocean in any tags, with spoilers here referring to everything beyond the 'Savage Garden' Arc. If you prefer no direct references to canon at all, please make note in your tag!

{COME SAIL AWAY - STYX}

[When he wakes, he doesn't expect to. Something about the last time he closed his eyes said that it wouldn't be so instant- that he wouldn't be waking for anything less than a blink, anything less than what it took for the sun to rise again.

Yet a blink is all it takes.

The young boy of 4'7'' groans, his eyes yet closed and shadowed by the cap on his head. The cleats of his shoes scrape the wood with the kind of force unfamiliar to him, as if their metal were more real than anything he ever interacted with.

He opens his eyes and screams.]

H- HHAHHH-!

[Stumbles back, a clattering echoing through the wood, as he screams again-] HHAHHHH-! AAAAHH-!!

[Stumbling feet carry him cacaphonously through the rocking ship, and his hands scrabble at wood planks until he's breathing in the scent of tangy salty air with more clarity than he is old wood and damp.

Emporio labors for breath, both from fear and from exhertion as well. His curled hair is brushed by wind and yet around him it couldn't feel more dead- now that he can see the rest of this ship in fact, that's all he can see, not a single other soul with him. It's something out of a cheap horror movie, something from a half-hearted film set made real. Too real, even.

(Since when were pirates actually like the pirates on the screen?)

And he's alone.

(Just like before.)

The ship is coming to port. As the boy slowly catches his breath and looks to the side, that's the first thing he realizes.

The ship is coming to port.

...

Backing away from the rail, all he can think is how much he wants to disappear.]

{SIGNS - 5MEB}

[He couldn't stay on the ship, and if he were honest with himself he didn't want to either. Even if it were somewhere to possibly hide and be safe, the sheer amount of dressed bones staring vacantly upward with empty 'eyes' was just too much.

But there are so many people here that it's absurd.

(It's not as if he hasn't been in a crowd before. Sort of, at least. He just...kept to himself. Avoided real notice, as best he could.)

(He was always good at that.)

Clutching his arms for warmth in the crisp autumn air of a country far cooler than his home, Emporio can't help but look as lost as he feels though. No cars have honked at him- he knows what a city is enough to keep to the side walk and avoid bumping into others. In fact, dressed in his baseball clothes as he is, it seems that no one has looked to him as if he's 'new'- not since he's made his way far enough from the docks at least.

But it's just all so much. There's not a single familiar face or sight, there's not a single thing here he truly knows. The boy stifles a sniff as wide eyes look around a hair away from what could well be tears, and-]

Oh dear- have you lost your way boy?

[He's been noticed now.

(Sort of.)]

I....I...

I know it's scary knowing what those....people are, [the woman before him continues, concern etched into every wrinkle on her aged face.] But we'll just find your parents and get you home before then alright? ...Now, that uniform...I haven't been keeping up with the local teams...but I can see someone is a baseball player~

[How does he get out of this?]

{THIS IS A LIE - THE CURE}

UN: SPEAKING.IN.TONGUES

I slept in a piano.

I've never seen snow.

I have three sisters.

{WOLVES WITHOUT TEETH - OFAM - CW: BODY HORROR-ELONGATION}

[Somehow, he kind of thought it wouldn't happen.

Which is stupid of course. Everyone else had it happen. Everyone he's managed to brave speaking to, and knowing, and being known by, has had this happen.

(He hasn't let anyone close enough- hasn't let himself close enough, to stay though. There's no one here now. There's no one from home, from the only home he had if it could be called that, and it makes everything feel that much more hollow.)

(He can't get that close again.)

The fog is thicker now, and that's the only warning he gets.] MnhNNMM-

[It's not even that painful, when he thinks about it. It hurts, but it doesn't hurt the same way other things have. He stumbles but all he can think is 'I've felt worse', even as tears start spilling down his face, and even as his head starts to throb with agony. It's not his head changing though- something else is afoot, perhaps literally so. He struggles for footing, the cleats catching the ground as his feet push away at the shoe- as they snap, the sound echoing coldly in his ears, and become too long to remain inside it.]

MNH-AUGH- Th...They're growing..!?

[Despite his exclaimation that's not quite it. Growing, certainly, but not proportionally. It's the same for his arms after all- fingers, as well- the pain hits his back hard enough that he bites through his lip and falls with a crack, stars in his eyes whilst he stumbles. To say it's like being on fire isn't right- this is something different. Something colder, something more numb than that. Something-]

Hhhahhh-hh....haahhhhh-hh...

[....

....It's over...]

Mgk...gh...

[He tries to stand- stumbling just a little, half falling against the wall. His feet barely hold him upright, shoes hanging on only because of the tight lacing that went down to the toe, and meanwhile the rest of his uniform is tight and stretched in ways he never expected to ever worry about. Emporio looks to his hand-]

HA-H..!

[And immediately falls backward, crashing against the dumpster and scrambling against it on instinct.

It's not yellow exactly, but...it...

....

Oh no.] ....I can't fit in that tunnel anymore...

[There's a reason this is important- the question is if the budding kelpie would be willing to share why with whoever likely heard that while coming to check on that sound just now.]

Two

[Stolas doesn't understand why he's here, or why he's trapped in a human form. Perhaps this is some sort of punishment he's been subjected to, and he simply can't remember reaching point B from point A.

That being said, he remains intrigued by his surroundings, and so while getting used to it all, he can be found walking from place to place with a look of rapt fascination written on his pale face.

It's probably little wonder that the locals are giving him a wide berth, what with his unnaturally red eyes. No, not the irises. The sclera. Very red. Very demon-y. But he's missing two eyes, and it's giving him a headache, actually, so while he takes some clothes from a very kind human, he presses for a little more.]

Thank you for this offering! It's quite in time, my clothing really is in a state. But more importantly, do you have any pain medication? Any's fine.

[There's something about the inflection...that sounds as if he expects his wishes to be entertained. It comes from being a prince, but Stolas isn't nearly half as rude as he could be.

When the human assures him that they can't be of any help with that, Stolas's brows draw together, then he simply assures them it's fine. Humans are humans, it's not as if he expected much.

--Oh!

Oh, look at that, it's a non-human! Great, just in time! Stolas thanks the human, then rapidly beelines to the monster he's spotted.]

Excuse me! You! Yes, you! Are you able to answer a few questions for me?

Three

[Some time after trying to extract some proper information from the locals, both human and monster, Stolas finally decides he's tired of walking around, and stops at a monster-friendly cafe to check the laptop he's been given. The technology is...rather ancient. But it's fine, he can make this work, surely.

There, see? Instructions! Instructions which he follows to assign himself a completely original username and answer the top post.

It's not as if he has anything better to do right now, and unfortunately...worrying about the state of things back home, with Blitzo or Stella...it's not at the top of his list. Not when he's stuck in a human form, without his grimoire, without anything, really.

It's out of his control.

Surprisingly...Stolas doesn't mind too, too much. Things out of his control is just a natural state of his existence. Sometimes they're good, sometimes they're bad, but...

...Well, anyway. He types.]

< Stolas > : Oh hohohohoho! What a fun little game! :) :) I'll play along! Here, let's start easy, shall we?

1. I'm a demon of hell.

2. I've never been to the human world.

3. I have a 17 year old daughter.

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.]

[ooc: I'm playing w/ post Resolve as a canon point but can accommodate to avoid spoilers if you prefer! Just lmk.]

1A. rude awakening

He's a bit slow to notice anything amiss, at first. He'd already been on a ship when he'd fallen asleep, so the smell of brine and the motion of the ocean don't really strike him as anything too out of the ordinary. The reek of rotting wood is curiously strong, considering he recalls being on a steamship, but to his half asleep brain he thinks maybe it's just some lingering part of a dream he's already forgetting.

It isn't until he sluggishly opens his eyes that it immediately becomes apparent to him... That something has gone horribly awry.

As a guy who does poorly with the idea of ghosts, demons, and most spooky stuff in general... Waking up face to face with a skeleton is, in fact, the nightmare scenario for Ryunosuke. He jolts upright with a yelp of terror, stumbling backwards in his haste. He yells again when he feels a crunch beneath his foot and whips around to see that he's trod on the skeletal hand of another deceased crew member-- And there are more, and more, and it's a whole hold full of... Of corpses--

He lets out a blood-curdling scream.

1B. up on deck

It doesn't make any damn sense. He'd been at the desk in his cabin, drafting some letters to send back to London at the next port of call... He must have nodded off at some point in the middle of that. He must just be in the middle of a nightmare, surely?

And yet this doesn't feel like a dream, despite the improbability of his circumstances. He feels very much alive and awake, and... Terrified. They're approaching shore at an ominous pace, not quite a speedy clip but, just slow enough to really make him sweat with worry. He's on a boat full of dead bodies?? Not fresh ones, at least, and it should be obvious enough that he had nothing to do with this, but-- but--

"Oh gods... This is it, I... I'm going to be arrested again, aren't I?" he groans faintly, turning around and slowly slumping down to sit on the deck with his back against the railing. He pushes a hand nervously through his short cropped hair as he babbles; he could just about laugh, honestly, at the absurdity of his poor luck. What had Soseki-san called him again? The unluckiest lawyer alive? Something like that... Maybe he was correct after all.

2. honk honk to you too, buddy

When he'd first arrived in London, he'd been amazed by the great British capital, with all its imposing structures of stone and metal, so different in flavor from Tokyo. Whatever this new city is, he's finding it suitably impressive as well... Not for its architecture, but for the local mode of transportation.

He's just barely familiar with the concept of an automobile to begin with. Seeing this many in one place, all in tremendously noisy motion, is a bit overwhelming to his 19th century sensibilities. And he's quickly finding that these mechanical beasts aren't exactly pedestrian friendly, either.

He can tell where it's supposed to be safe to cross the road, but getting over his fear and actually doing it is another issue entirely. They're so fast?? Cars are fast! Too fast! And with his nerves, they seem even faster than they actually are, too speedy to comprehend. How is he supposed to trust that he can make it across the street in time without getting flattened???

At one point, getting fed up with his lot, he finds the strength to make an attempt, setting one foot out into the road... Only for a car that he somehow failed to notice to come screaming by, horn blaring, just barely missing him as he frantically leaps backwards to get out of the way. Unfortunately, his hasty retreat risks causing a collision of a different kind... As in, he's crashing into you. Possibly knocking you both over, or perhaps you're quick enough to get out of the way and he just falls flat on his back onto the pavement... Either way, he's winding up on the ground, groaning.

He could probably use a hand up.

3. Wildcard me!

[OOC: Open to being menaced by monsters or whatever else you like, feel free to PM if you want to run something specific by me.]

1: Stuck on a pirate ship.

A skull is quite possibly the last thing Keldor ever wanted to see upon waking up. See, he'd been having a series of bad dreams lately; dreams he fears are prophetic in nature. One that involves way too many bats and a talking skull that tells him what his future will be.

But there's no bats here, and the skull is as silent as any other skull. And, now that he's recovered from his fright at seeing one staring vacantly as he wakes up, notices that there's a lot of "any other skulls" around, and, like this one, is attached to whatever's left of the humans [they were humans, right? they didn't look like Gar remains; the features didn't mesh] that used to call this place "home" or whatever.

Still, this isn't a place he wants to be. He does not want to see skulls, and the stench of death is overpowering.

Mighty Zoar, the smell is really overpowering.

But before he can get as far away from this place as possible, he hears sounds coming from outside.

People. A lot of them.

Great. With his luck it'll be humans, and with his luck, he'll be blamed for whatever happened to... To... Whoever these people used to be when they were alive and well should they see him and notice one of his signature features: blue skin.

What he needs to do is find a way to slink off before someone starts shouting at him and the usual round of anti-Gar abuse can begin.

Sticking around when there might be humans nearby is pretty stupid, if not exactly suicidal.

2: Welcome to ~~hell~~ the city.

Wow. This place sure as hell is a whole lot different than anything he's ever seen in Eternia. Yes, it's a city and he's used to that. A big one, and he's used to that. What he's not used to are all. the. goddamn. vehicles zipping about. Eternia may be a world in possession of advanced technology [they even have artificial intelligence!], but it's not a technological world, and most people don't use vehicles to get about; prefering instead to either find some beast to ride on or to pull something with wheels. So of course Keldor has no "traffic sense"—there was no need for it back in Eternos [the city he's used to].

Poor guy. He's just trying to get around without becoming roadkill before he's had a chance to gather his bearings and figure out where in the hell he is [and find out what this place does to people like him].

He'll find that part out when he reads whatever it is that gets shoved into his face. It's kind of like a book, but very thin, and without a hard cover like proper books should have. A pamphlet, but they don't have many if any of those in Eternia. The reading will come later, though; he just wants to get whoever it was that gave it to him out of his gradually-turning-purple-with-fear-and-anger face.

"Just tell me how it is possible that I can leave this place," Keldor grumps.

But he's not getting an answer from the pamphlet-pusher.

3: Personal prompt.

He tried. Really, he did. He thought he could stave it off; find some way to develop endurance in this area. But there's no suppressants for these kinds of appetites, and he's just sane enough to know that if he tries to hold off, it'll only get worse, and more people will become victims instead of one. But the last one...

The last one...

...looked a little like someone he knows from back home...

...and it's tearing at his heart to think about it.

Tears run down his not-very-Gar/human-hybrid-anymore face. It gives him something to hold onto. Something that reminds him that he's still a person. Somewhere. Somewhere very deep inside.

But manticores need to feed, and the purple beast has been starving for days now, and there's an oh-so-irresistible smell nearby...

Edited 2022-09-10 02:24 (UTC)

i.
[Ianthe wakes slowly, and when she looks around, she's a bit unsure if she's truly awoken at all. This seems a little too on-the-nose, doesn't it. A thematically relevant nightmare, a ship of corpses, something about her guilt. A little gauche. At least she's dressed appropriately, as she ever must be; a flowing silk shirt and smart black trousers and a deceptively delicate rapier at her hip. Well. Dream or not, she seems to be free to investigate, and so she does, cautiously poking at skeletons with the tip of her sword.

Fellow passengers may have to wait to be acknowledged, or brave enough to approach her themselves. She's certainly not against an illuminating conversation with some aspect of her psyche or whatever they are, but you never make the first move at a party, it makes you look desperate.]

ii.
[For a dream there are an alarming number of sensory experiences happening here. She can smell the salt in the air like she could at Canaan, she can feel the rough rope against her palms (both palms, flesh and blood, whole and returned to her). But she can't feel beyond. No thrum of thalergy and thanergy, not as single trace of it in those dusty skeletons nor her fellow living (?) passengers. None of this makes sense.

Helpfully, she is given some pamphlets, and after a moment she realizes they're made of real paper so they must be extremely important. Unhelpfully, they are full of absolute nonsense, and she spends quite a while peering intensely at them. She glances up periodically, eyes tracking those who seem similarly out-of-place. If one wanders close enough, she'll call out in a faux-casual drawl.]

Excuse me.
Do you have a moment?

iii.
< sanctumreverentia >
good evening, everyone! how delightful to find a game i'm familiar with despite the vastly different universe. let's play, shall we?

i. i've met god!
ii. i am the sole royal heir and princess of my House.
iii. i've devoured someone before arriving here. :)

Scenario 2
A.
[Nancy Wheeler blinks, brow furrowing, and she steps out onto the bustling sidewalk, looking toward a busy street she doesn't recognize. People rush by her -- some shooting strange looks in her direction, and others lowering their heads to watch the ground, determined not to meet her gaze. And although she tries to catch their attention, no one stops. It strikes her as odd that people are actively avoiding her, as though there might be something wrong with her.

As though she might be cursed.]

Excuse me! Can I as-? [She reaches out to touch a woman's shoulder, trying to get her attention, but the lady shrugs her off and walks faster, turning her head away. Nancy sighs and throws her hands up, exasperated. No one wants to hear her or see her. She needs to find out where she is and what's going on, but how can she do that if no one will acknowledge her presence? She crosses her arms tightly against her chest and huffs, unaware that she is being watched. If only she'd turn around...]

B.
[She sits at a cafe with a bunch of pamphlets lined up on the round table in front of her. With a pen in one hand, she analyses the words on each piece of paper and carefully underlines things like 'manticore' and 'changes.' Her lips form a thin, thoughtful line as her mind works on trying to figure this place out. She only looks up when a middle-aged woman -- the cafe owner -- approaches her table and sets a cup of tea down.]

Oh... um. Thanks. This wasn't... This wasn't necessary. I can pay you back.

[She smiles at the woman, who looks at her warmly.

"It's no problem, dear. You look exhausted, and I don't expect new people to have Solars to pay. Now, I don't have time to talk at the moment, but I'm sure someone around here'll help you out," the waitress points out, just in case Nancy intended to interview her. The woman walks away, and Nancy starts pouring over the papers again. But it isn't long before her peripheral vision catches someone approaching her table again.]

Oh, I don't need anything el-

[She starts, but as she looks up, she swallows her words and stares wide-eyed. Her jaw clenches as she tries to understand what she's looking at, and although she remains calm, she can feel her heart beating a little faster. She opens her mouth to speak, but the words catch in her throat. She doesn't know what to do. Doesn't know what to say...]

C.
["Hey! Humans only!" the shopkeeper snarls, approaching Nancy with quick, aggressive steps and clenched fists. Nancy had only gone into the store to see if they had water bottles, but instead, she's faced with instant aggression from a burly-looking older man. She places one foot behind the other but doesn't back away as the man gets right in her face, baring his teeth.]

Excuse me? [She says softly, taking slow, deep breaths. She's calm. She's collected. She's nervous but does her best not to show it.

"You heard me. Humans only. Get out of here," the shopkeeper says, and this time his voice takes on a low, menacing tone. Nancy doesn't move. She meets his gaze firmly and tries not to show her confusion. Her fear.]

Fine. Get away from me first, and I'll leave. [She says, but the man doesn't move. Instead, he keeps staring her down, smirking.]

Get. Away from me. And I'll leave.

[Instead of backing away, the man moves in closer, forcing Nancy to take a step back. She can see what he's doing here. Can see how he's trying to intimidate her. But she won't let him win. She won't let him see even a flicker of fear.

She might appreciate some help though.]

One

[It's not unlike him to fall into a fitful, restless sleep borne of the anxious thoughts he has filling him towards the day's upcoming tasks and just have the wildest dreams imaginable. Dreaming about himself being kidnapped in some way is nothing new, though it is unfortunate how very real these sorts of things always feel. Even so, this particular "dream" saw fit to dress him in his usual royal finery, which isn't exactly helpful for being trapped in the brig of a pirate's ship.

With his temples aching and the rest of his head throbbing dully, Pepper sits up with the heel of one palm pressed to his eye.]

Nnhh. What is...

[He turns, and comes face to face with the skeleton of one of the departed crewmates, its jaw open wide in a grisly grin in the prince's direction.

He startles, his shout of surprise strangled in his throat as he practically leaps out of his skin into a fellow captive sitting next to him. It takes another moment of being startled for him to realize this person is breathing, which prompts a bit of color to return to his face.]

O-oh. Oh, I'm...s-sorry. So sorry. Are you alright?

[Surely not, considering.]

Three

[Perovskia, as it turns out, has technology- magical technology- that's quite a bit more advanced than that of Ryslig. Even moreso what the kingdom itself has access to, which means this laptop is more than a bit primitive in its display at best. Pepper can't say he minds it overmuch, even if he wishes it were a bit easier to see...he's used to using a computer by now thanks to his parents being diligent in making sure he learned it at a young age, yet somehow the complexity here is more in the fact that the tech is so old. Ah well.

This sort of game really isn't something he has the time to do right now, but...maybe it will give him a chance to speak with some of the others here? Get to know them? It's something he tried to do back home with both neighbors and tourists alike...so he opts to give it a shot.]

< minthia >

1. I am ambidextrous.

2. My name is Pepper, and I own two Clydesdale horses named York and Patty. Together, we are a York Peppermint Patty.

3. I was once responsible for accidentally unlatching the gate of a duck farm close by the kingdom that released over 3,000 ducks into the streets.

[OOC: Pepper's real name is Peter, but he answers to either! He usually just calls himself Pepper because it's a nickname that stuck real hard]

One

[Akira, understandably, assumes that waking up on a rotting ship is something else completely. But unlike some others he doesn't jump to a dream- instead he can't help but assume it's a Palace. The fact that he was still in his normal clothes was only a slight hiccup: only meant the Palace owner didn't see him as a threat. Yet.

So instead of wandering around he slips from hiding place to hiding place, watching out for attackers and spying on the others arrivals. Weird, their conversations and actions don't really fit with how cognitive constructs act... so eventually he slips out of a shadow right next to someone to see how they react]

Hey.

Two

[This... is familiar in a way he had hoped he was long past, honestly. Not everyone is glaring at him like he's about to attack them, but enough are that it makes his hackles raise. Worse though are those shoving papers at him and offering 'help'- it's the air around them. The tension and babbling.

They do it because they're scared. They are currying favor. He hates it. But he manages to bite down the urge to throw the papers away or push aside the 'helpful' people. No, it's not fair. Clearly they've had issues with outsiders before, and having seen the 'monsters' walking around too he can get it. He doesn't like it, but he gets it.

But even his patience has a limit and eventually he wiggles away into an alleyway, punching the wall with a curse of frustration. It doesn't occur to him that being alone in the dark might not be wise- he isn't the apex predator of the shadows anymore...]

Three

Anyone else tempted to see how outrageous a lie they can get people to buy in this game?

Four (Werewolf)

[ Thanks to talking to various monsters he knows the Change is coming. And while horrifying part of him is kinda excited to see what will happen.

When the fur starts to sprout he is rushed with adrenaline and fear... and thrill. He laughs, breathlessly, and even though he was hiding out indoors just enough moonlight filters in the windows to fill him with a familiar wild energy. He hasn't felt something this strong since Arsene awoke, and he can't stop himself from going outside, panting slightly.

Other monsters, both veteran and others mid-change like himself, might be surprised to see a fledgling beast cackling in the moonlight as fangs erupt from his gums and claws bloodily push from his fingers. Before long the laughter morphs into a modulating high pitched howl]

Edited 2022-09-11 16:19 (UTC)

Unu -Pirate Ship

It's not the first time the drifter has woken up on a ship. How many had he conned his way onto in his travels? An able young man and a musician, willing to work in return for passage and the transport of just one sizable crate - an old gambit of his, and one that he's quite comfortable with.

But this? This is new. He's not waking up in a crate of dirt, for one. He can feel his own heart beating, feel his fangs now blunted in his mouth. If he's honest with himself, that troubles him much more than the fact that everyone seems to be dead.

After a few minutes of rooting around the bodies - plenty he can use later, after all, and he rather likes that corpse's leather belt - he ascends to the upper deck. If everyone is dead, then...who is sailing the ship? It's possible this could be magic (or a curse), but...with the shore approaching and life singing through his veins for the first time in a millennium, best that he doesn't take the chance. Kronid knows the basics of how to sail, so he springs to action, keeping one eye on the dock growing upon the horizon.

It's now that he spies movement on the deck - another living thing on this ship of ghosts.

"Hey - you, down there," he calls in his thick Romanian accent, hanging from the mast and re-tying a knot with grimy, rough hands. "Good. I thought I would have to do this alone. Pull that rope taut and tie it to the rail, would you?"

Doi - Bavan

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

The world is close to how his own had been some years ago, but - just different enough at the edges to tell him that Something Is Amiss. Kronid is no stranger to being received in a mixed manner, sympathy and hatred and fear of the unknown being constantly flung in his direction; what is different is the way people approach him with their pity and aid. He takes the laptop, he takes the Solars, he takes the information with bemused thanks and batting of dark lashes over his stormy eyes. Newcomers like him must be common here. The pamphlets confirms that, and raises new questions.

He needs more information still, in order to work out how he fits into all this chaos. So Kronid does what he does best.

First he roots around in a nearby trash can, pulling from it a discarded candy box. Into it goes the fistful of coins he had been given, then he folds in the end to seal it. He parks himself on the street corner, perching himself unceremoniously atop a rotting palette against the side of the building behind him.

Kronid shakes the box - it rattles and chimes. He finds a rhythm, kicking back with his heel against the old wood of the palette to create a downbeat...and then he begins to sing. Clear, confident, magnetic - songs of adventure and travel and passing romance.

Someone is bound to stop to talk sooner or later. For better or for worse.

He doesn't really care which.

Trei - Network

< ONEMANBAND > - Sure. I'll play. Why not? : )

1. I have been to every continent in my world.
2. I have never had a pizza.
3. I play eleven different instruments.

Patru - Turning - Demon

Of course, he thinks. How fitting, after all these years. A demon.

Of COURSE.

Panting with exertion, a warped grin twists the young face of the former vampire, tongue slicking over the six cruel fangs that had returned to him with his change. It had hurt - of course it had hurt - but he could bear with a little pain. Or a lot of pain. It hardly matters. He would trade the pain a hundred times over for the power he feels right now, the re-shedding of the humanity he had lost so long ago.

His long nails are now long claws, dark and wicked, perfect for digging into flesh instead of soil. They flutter up to his dark curls, following with graceful fingertips the glossy curls of four sharp, twisting horns. The wind drifts through them. They give a haunting whistle.

Pushing himself to his feet, he stretches out tattered, shredded black wings for the first time, uncaring who sees. Monsterhood is commonplace here, after all.

Okay.

He can WORK with this.

[Scenario 2]

[Normally, Artemis "is here to party" Dubois is the last person to say this, but...]

I am way too high this early in the day.

[Though she likes to think of herself as intimately familiar with the streets of Philly, she doesn't recognize her surroundings at all. Last thing she remembers was attending a party last night, which means she hasn't even had the chance to wake-and-bake. No, all the crazy stuff she's seeing right now--the people done up in their frankly amazing costumes (who's their prosthetic makeup hookup? She simply MUST meet them and compare notes), the unfamiliar city, the regular, un-costumed people staring at her like she's some kind of alien visitor--are a direct result of last night's wild bacchanal. Artemis clearly took way too much of the good stuff and traveled to a neighboring city just in time for some kind of local festival, and now her ass is stuck here until she sobers up enough for public transportation to get her the hell back to Philadelphia. Her cell phone is gone, her wallet is gone, and she broke the heel of one shoe clambering out of that weird pirate ship haunted house attraction she'd woken up in.

In short? Just your typical Sunday morning.

There's mascara and colorful eye shadow smeared around her face, a weirdly chunky laptop jammed under her left arm, and a stack of absolutely batshit insane pamphlets clutched in her left fist as she stumbles around Bavan.]

Oh, I'm gonna kick Sergio's ass. That mushroom tea was laced with something.

[Which she isn't at all opposed to; a little warning would be nice, that's all!]

[Scenario 3]

["Two Truths, One Lie," is it? Nice. Artemis has had her fair share of very fun encounters as a result of this game, and trapped in a crazy new world or not, she wants to roll the dice one more time and see where it gets her.]

< Artemussy >
Two truths and a lie! Let's get right down to it, guys and dolls.

1. I'm severely allergic to latex.
2. Red is my favorite color.
3. I have a bleached asshole.

Good luck.

[Hey, if she's gonna shoot her shot, she might as well go for broke right out of the gate. That's just how this bitch rolls.]

Edited 2022-09-13 03:09 (UTC)

➤ 1

[Being roused by the gentle sensation of bobbing is really, really strange. The last time Chie can remember feeling anything like this is the last time she went swimming and she closed her eyes while laying on a pool float. Considering she's laying flat on her bed, she really shouldn't be feeling this way, though. Ugh, she's not getting sick, is she? That's the last thing she needs right now!

With a groan of complaint, she rolls over without opening her eyes, fully intent on just blindly making her way out of bed and to the bathroom. Once she extends her legs, though, she quickly finds that there's... no bed edge to swing them over. There's no edge at all, in fact, but they do bump into something. Judging by her best guess, she seems to be laying flat on the floor. Great, it's no wonder her equilibrium is all off. She must have hit her head! But how did it not wake her up? Must have been one heck of a dream.

Opening her eyes reveals the truth, though. Because, as soon as she does, she finds herself face to face with the mostly-skeletal and partially-mummified face of a person. Or what used to be a person, anyway.

This scream of bloody murder can even be heard right up on deck!]

➤ 2

[Okay, so maybe she shouldn't have made so much fun of Yosuke for being a big city boy. Because boy, is this city big. Even Okina can't compare to this!

By now, she's sort of been given the rundown. People get pulled into this place and turned into monsters. This is some place named Ryslig, this city's name is Bavan, yadda yadda. They're names she remembers, but only because they're so blatantly not Japanese that it really just sort of hammers home that she's not... well, home.

But, at least there's a konbini. That's a familiar and incredibly welcome sight! The armful of pamphlets that had been shoved on her gets unceremoniously dumped in the trash can out front. Out of the way, badly written informational literature! There's comforting food from home to be had!

Unfortunately, for the abundance of familiar convenience store snacks... Chie is very small and has no money, so you can imagine the kind of stress she's under. After all, she's been through hell and back today, and she just wants some dang karaage. The only thing separating her and this delicious fried chicken is the barrier of currency. But, maybe she'll approach you!]

Uh, hey! I'm reeeeeally sorry to bother you like this, but I just found myself here, and I'm... kind of broke, and kind of starving. Do you think you could spot me for this... ? I promise I'll pay you back! As soon as I can, I swear!

➤ wildcard

[ Any other ideas? Hit me up at

healingcrab! I'm always open for plotting. c: ]

[ONE | cw emeto]

[Sherlock opens his eyes with a gasp, taking in the skeleton across from him with wide eyes.

He doesn't remember falling asleep here. Was he abducted? Kidnapped? Drugged? What was the last thing he ate or drank? Are there puncture marks in his wrists? Elbows? Why is there a corpse in front of him? He feels woozy, and for a moment, he concludes that he must have been drugged --

-- until he smells the salt air, hears the creaking of the rigging, and feels the telltale, terrible motion of the ship under him.

His gloved hand flies to his mouth, and he lets out a stuttering cough. No, no, no no no, he's on a ship, and he gets seasick...!

(It's not the corpse that roils his stomach, it's the rocking boat.)

He doesn't stop to check the treasure chest, to see if it's real. He doesn't touch the rum. He doesn't have it in him to investigate this area -- he has to get above the deck, now.

If you're already up there, you'll see a tall man with dark hair, dressed well, clean-shaven, stumble to the edge of the boat and make a horrible noise off the side. Once his stomach's empty, and he's hanging limply over the rotten wood, he wipes his mouth on the back of his wrist, and gazes upward, toward the approaching dock.]

Land! Thank God.

...

...

Wait -- who's at the helm?

[Because they sure are approaching fast, and the crew sure looks very dead...! Sherlock straightens up, one hand on the side, still very necessary, to steady himself.]

Is anybody steering this ship?!

Edited 2022-09-14 00:15 (UTC)

OOC

Jolyne will be coming in post-series this time around, but I'm gonna be avoiding getting into any spoilers for obvious reasons /fingerguns

If you would prefer for me to avoid direct references to canon altogether just lmk in your tag and it's as good as done.

GOD SENT ME AS KARMA

[ The overwhelming scent of the ocean didn't seem so out of place at the moment, not even a little bit. But the addition of rotting wood, and the familiar decay of death was something a little extra.

Eyes slowly opening to the greeting of a grinning skull was too much, enough for Jolyne to kick as she screamed out. ]

FUCK! SHIT!

[ Her breathing was quick and she instinctively grabbed at her side to feel for something that wasn't there. Fingers pressing into her flesh she cursed under her breath as she pushed herself up. Surveying the rest of the area a picture was definitely being painted, but it clearly wasn't the whole story.

Jolyne's arm lazily swung down q pulled up a feathered hat to put on before grabbing hold of a coat to pull on as well. She didn't know what to think, how to process this in any manner. A bottle of rum, why not? Might as well scoop up a few coins from the treasure chest to stuff into one of the pockets of the coat. ]

… Don't mind if I do…

[ It was silent, deathly silent. Moving up to the deck made things more real. Through the dense fog there was the outline of land in the distance. Given her previous visits she had a theory of where she was, although this was a different entrance than usual. ]

The most unwelcoming committee will probably be there waiting.

SADDER BADDER COOLER

[ Ah yes, the familiar mix of disgust and helpfulness. This was a more familiar greeting in this world. Jolyne passed up the offer for clothes since she was still covering herself with the jaunty hat and coat combo she'd procured on the pirate ship, but gladly took the laptop and food.

Although when questioned about a place to stay there was some hesitation. On one hand there was a familiar place, but on the other… well, things were a little different this time around and the need for more privacy was very necessary. ]

Shit, guess I could check out that inn meanwhile…

[ Just as the thought was had there was certainly something more pressing at hand. ]

Cafe first.

[ Time to eat and check out the network. ]

TEENAGE DIRTBAG

< floridaswallows >

I didn't even do anything to end up in prison, the system just sucks balls.

Like yeah I was in a biker gang, but I’ve been done with that for a while

Gators are definitely my favourite assholes and i would never talk shit to them

[1] Not A Great Way to Wake Up

[ Okay, so, waking up and immediately seeing a skeleton? Carol is already not a fan. She ended up making a fairly undignified yelp when she saw it, and she can only pray that nobody heard her.

In any case, once she's assessed her surroundings and brushed herself off, the situation is confusing and grim, but nothing to panic about just yet. When she starts to assess her own situation, however, there are a number of problems that become apparent.

First, she cannot wield her alchemy. She thought to form some light or even simply fly away from the ship, but simply nothing would happen. Secondly, she remembers way more than she should actually remember right now. The vast majority of her memories were burned away and should be gone forever... and yet she can now recall a vast amount of memories that she knows she burned for power.

Well, the second bit isn't exactly a problem, Carol realizes... but it is unfortunate. Having so many of her memories back is definitely a good thing, but she can't use her alchemy, so it almost feels pointless. Still, there's no good reason to really complain. She has her memories back, and more than that, she's alive again. ]

At least we're headed towards land...

[ If not for that, then there would be a cause for concern. This ship is pretty clearly scarce, and it's frankly a miracle it's even floating still. There's a twinge of brief irritation at that thought, but she brushes it off. Not worth it, Carol Malus Dienheim. ]

...!

[ Still, the second she notices any signs of movement or life around her, she's quick to immediately turn and point an unsheathed rusty cutlass at you. Did she steal that off of a pirate corpse? Yeah, duh. She doesn't have her alchemy, so she has to make do. ]

Oi. Where the hell are we.

[ Whose sassy lost child is this and why does she look so down for murder? ]

[2] She Already Hates It Here

[ She can immediately tell that the locals of this place are wary of her. Granted, considering the things that she's done, one would be right to be wary of her... but this is very clearly a different world set in a different time period, and she has the appearance of a child. Sure, she's got a bad attitude, but that shouldn't warrant these kind of reactions.

Pity, apprehension, fear, obvious attempts at currying favor...

She coincidentally ends up getting her hands on a pamphlet and immediately sees a Monster nearby. Ah, okay, that makes sense then. ]

...Shit.

[ ~~Did the small child just swear?~~ It's unbelievable for sure, but it makes enough of the dots connect in her head that she has to believe it. That, and the fact that there's proof right in front of her.

It is, obviously, a very shitty situation. She makes that very clear, even if she's not even speaking directly to anybody. Guess she'll just have to find this 38-8 place for now. At the moment, it's the only apparent option that is in any way appealing. Earlier, she had been somewhat upset at the lack of a certain... presence in her head, but now? Perhaps that's for the best. ]

[3] Sassy Child is Online

[ Seriously? Two Truths, One Lie? How pointless. She needs to start figuring a way out of this place, or regaining her alchemy, or dissecting the god of this place... ideally all three would be nice.

That being said, she's bored, and no clear starting line in sight for any of these things.

Ugh. Fine. ]

< Dienheim >

1. I have lived for many centuries.

2. I have the body of a child.

3. My Papa was an excellent cook.

Wildcard

[ Plurk is

OddEyes ]

Edited 2022-09-13 19:26 (UTC)

1. Ship of Fear

Anyone else in the ship's hold would have their attention caught by a high-pitched, ear-piercing shriek.

Said shriek comes from the harried-looking, frightened man who's now doing his best to crawl up a pillar as if it were a tree. He looks absolutely terrified, perhaps by the skeletons...no, no. This man's fear goes deeper. He has seen things, and they have put the fear of god into him.

"Help me!" he continued, eyes wide and desperate, his face covered in drenching sweat. "What is this place?! Where am I?! I-Is this hell?!"

2. A Monster Among Men, or a Man Among Monsters?

Well, at least Kurata is finally off that ship. Not that it does him any good now that he's out and about in the city. It's like something from out of a history book, the way this city looks. And so Kurata is absolutely lost, wandering around looking lost and pathetic.

Eventually, he catches sight of a monster...and promptly screams his head off, immediately running for cover. He dashes into an alleyway and stops to breathe, clutching his chest. Just what kind of hellish place is this?! It's already as bad as the Digital World!

And what's more, that memory is still beating in his brain. The memory of his loss. His defeat. His humiliation, and...

... His death? Had...had he died...?!

Kurata let out a scream of frustration as he slammed his fist against the wall. "Damn you, Daimon Masaru...!"

Then, he screamed again, because the bricks had hurt his hand.

3. Truth Is A Matter of Perspective

[By now Kurata has settled in, and...well, he's something approaching calm. He needs to find intel on his new surroundings, and this little game everyone seems to be playing seems like an ample opportunity. After all, everyone is willingly surrendering information, right?

He just has to play the game himself...]

[itsshowtime]

Ah, hello everyone! I'm a new arrival. Please call me Professor Kurata. Two truths and a lie, eh? Well, by all means!

1. I'm an expert in trans-dimensional science.

2. I bravely defended Japan from traitors and invaders.

3. I have an aversion to chocolate.

I

[Swaying is the sensation he awakes to after it hits. There's some kind of swaying, and it doesn't stop. Kokichi's eyes, previously shut tight, slowly open, and that's when he sees the skeleton across from him.]

AGH, FUCK!

[He snaps, scrambling back. He stares at the skeleton with wide eyes before he gets up, and begins to walk along the ship. Okay. So. Weird afterlife thus far. He's not sure if he likes it, but the concept of a pirate's life being the one for him isn't something he's necessarily strongly against...

As the ship seems to head to port, he pauses only for a moment to put on one of the hats, and he grabs the treasure chest. Hello, souvenir.]

Outta the way, outta the way, peasants! The one and only pirate king needs space!

[He says, looking down at the mass of people. He's willing to abandon the treasure chest if it seems necessary, but he doesn't want to quite yet.]

II
[Kokichi finds the reaction of the locals more disturbing when it's overly friendly than when it's hateful or cruel. A bit predictable, one might think, considering it's him - but still. He looks at the friendly ones with a guarded front, constantly frowning...but he smirks at the ones who seem angry. Afraid.]

...You look like you've seen a ghost.

[Is it funny to him considering his circumstances? A little, yeah. He can't help it. When you're as good as dead, everything takes on a new sense of humor.]

What, scared? I prommy I won't eat'cha. Not soon, anyways.

[He says it like it's a joke, even if he's actually terrified of that part of the equation.]

III
PIERROT: Oh, something I'm actually an expert in!
PIERROT: I have 6 toes on each foot.
PIERROT: I used to work in the circus as the best clown ever.
PIERROT: I am the inventor of baked beans.
PIERROT: Now, where's the lie?

SCENARIO ONE (cw; light mention of cannibalism and some blood)

[ When Kaneki awakens, his eyes are wide and he is panting heavily. He had just been stabbed and kidnapped, and he didn't expect to be brought to what looks like a pirate ship, of all the places. Plus, his kidnappers are nowhere to be seen.

Kaneki pats himself - specially the abdomen, where he was stabbed. The blood is there and his shirt ripped, but his wounds are healed - nothing strange there - and eventually he sits up only to meet a skull. He stares at it for a while, wondering if it's even real, but something seems... off?

He comes closer to take a deep breath and suddenly Kaneki realizes: his sense of smell is off (or perhaps it's right?). The skull doesn't smell of that sweet delicious scent humans give out and he can smell dampness and the sea. What is going on? When he was turned into a ghoul all his senses changed, and now he is realizing they are back to what they used to be before Kaneki was changed. ]

Ayato-kun...? [ he calls out softly. Ayato did kidnap him, but who else should he be calling for? he has no clue what is going on!

But since there is no reply, Kaneki decides he is just going to take some of those bones in case something happens and he gets hungry. If anyone is passing by and sees a weird kid stealing bones... well...

Oops? ]

SCENARIO TWO (cw; light mention of blood)

[ Once Kaneki leaves the boat, he finally understands he is not in Tokyo and he is not even in Japan. Maybe not even Earth? The people look strange and wear strange clothes - yet again, he realizes none of them smell the way humans usually smell to ghouls. And while that would be a welcome change were he back in his world, because he has no idea what is actually going on, it terrifies him.

And a terrified 18 year old boy, with blood drenched white shirt is kind of obvious. Anyone he approaches seems to want to avoid him, until he is finally handed an old laptop (it looks old) and a pamphlet that makes... so little sense. Kaneki stares at it in disbelief, right in the middle of the street, and he starts breathing heavily.

Turning into a monster? Another kind of monster? Why is he being turned into things again? Who did this? Why is he--

his heavy breathing is starting to become more like small gasps while panic starts to settle. Kaneki is adaptable - incredibly so; he was turned from human into a ghoul by a (crazy) doctor, had many people trying to kill him, and yet just within 3 months he managed to survive everything and live a seemingly normal life (until he got kidnapped). But now he was sent to a whole new world, and turned back into a human, to only be told he will soon turn into ANOTHER type of monster.

Naturally there is trauma to process but he is so so so SO tired. Give this guy a break.

He heads towards the Lighthouse, or tries to, stumbling, breathing heavily, half-panicked and gripping onto the pamphlet and the laptop with his dear life. And he is also very lost, too. ]

[1] Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

[CW: needle mention]

[Waking up to the gentle bob of the ocean didn't startle Eleanor. It didn't even strike her as odd. She must've just dozed off in the escape sub. Its the creak and groan of old wood that alarms her. She bolts upright and looks around. She's alone. Mostly. What sits across from her isn't one of her many sisters, or even her mother. Its a skeleton.]

What in the– Where am I?

[She stands, lifting her arms to prepare to fight anyone who may be responsible for this but. The bracers on her arms holding the ADAM and large harvesting needle are gone. Thinking on her feet, she grabs the cutlass from the skeleton facing her, sending it tumbling to the side. It's rusty and liable to fall apart with a solid swing, but it'll do for now.]

[She makes her way up the creaking stairs and out into the light. She's still not used to it, trying to squint out at the new world around her. There's a harbor in view. With people. She's nervous for the first time since reaching the surface. She opts to duck behind some barrels and get a gusher of her situation first.]

[2] Dear Hearts and Gentle People

[There's more people here than she thinks she's ever seen at one time. It's absolutely more than she bargained for. Eleanor is simultaneously overwhelmed and more excited than she's ever been. The excitement, however, was short lived when she realized she was unbelievably lost. She'd been given directions to some apartments where she was told she'd get help settling in. Now she had no clue where she was.]

[These people seemed much less friendly. Many slammed doors in her face or turned quickly away when she approached, looking for more directions. She even walked up to a woman with a child, hoping a mother might be more friendly]

Excuse me ma'am, do you know where–

[The woman glared at her fiercely, scooping up her child as if afraid Eleanor would take him from her.

"Get away from us monster!" The woman spat before hustling quickly around the corner.]

Fine! You could've just said no! [She shouted at the retreating woman's back before crossing her arms and plopping herself on the stairs to a building unceremoniously.]

[[ WARNING, all prompts: spoilers up through the Savage Garden arc; one prompt also has spoilers for the latest episode ]]
[[ also, I'll match style, prose or brackets! ]]

Edited 2022-09-16 06:06 (UTC)

[One]

[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.]

[2]

The tea party was over, but Emmet was still in his butler attire, although at the moment he wished he had the familiar weight of his Subway Boss coat on and instead of the top hat he had his normal cap on. Although he did look quite dapper he stood out just slightly less than he would have in his normal clothes.

He flipped through the pamphlets he had received and frowned. This seemed like a bunch of taruoscrap to him. But then again, there were also monsters meandering by so perhaps there was some truth to it.

[3]
< kudari >

This seems fun!

1.) I am the older brother.

2.) I am a subway boss

3.) My favorite color is white

I.

[The sweet, gentle bobbing of the sea is honestly nothing new to any good sea dog, and probably the most calming thing about this whole catastrophe. That's the thing, though, Caviar doesn't recall falling asleep on his ship. In fact, the last thing he can remember is trying to get Vanilla Sugar Cookie out of the collapsing Lyceum and...then what? Unable to confirm his success and the scent of a rot that would never be allowed on his ships is enough to stir the captain, but it's not like he gets any answers. Instead he only gets overwhelmed by the bizarre sensation that something is simply very wrong with his entire body. It's difficult to explain, it's not as though he aches, but there's definitely something not right that he can't quite put his finger on...

...fingers, of course, being something he'll have to get used to because he has those now.

Not that he appears to notice them right away. Instead he sloppily heaves himself up with a grunt, inspecting what appears to be a pirate skeleton?? Listen...animated skeleton things are nothing new to him and these aren't exactly the sort of pirates he's used to dealing with, so it's really no surprise that he just casually gives the poor thing a tap or two with his boot. Caviar gives a rather unimpressed scoff when he doesn't get any sort of response.]

Sleepin' on the job, are ya?! You and me both, apparently...

[He grumbles under his breath, unsure how he got captured by what appears to be some very lazy pirates when he can't recall being near the sea, but he...can't really deny where he is.]

Alright, who's in charge here?! 'Cause someone needs to tell 'em they just messed with the wrong capta— WOAH, HEY!! [It only takes one step before Captain Caviar trips over his own legs, something that terrifies him more than the kidnapping itself.] Well, now I know how I got captured, I'm walkin' like some kinda sugary landlubber...

[Fisticuffs will have to wait as Caviar looks over his legs, wondering why they're suddenly acting like they're stilts made out of jelly. It isn't until he grabs one with a hand and its unfamiliar digits that he realize something is, in fact, very wrong.]

Uh... Hm.

[Surely there isn't anything strange about a grown ass man now just staring at his hand like he's never seen it before. Haha, cookie game!]

II.

[There is a learning curve and it is steep. Although the captain was able to safely make it to the city, he still walks like a newborn fawn and grimaces at the fact that he needs to lean on nearly every surface just to barely stand upright. It wouldn't be such a problem if it didn't make him such an easy target.

A future monster unable to walk and clearly in need? Surely people need to offer him ALL THE THINGS. Caviar finds himself waving off just about everything. Unfamiliar foods, far too many shirts, and even the occasional offer to fetch him a cane.

Does he really look so helpless?!]

Get back, all of ya! You're more annoyin' than a squawkin' squad of seagulls, yeesh!!

[It isn't until someone hands him one of those pamphlets that he finally settles down, the title catching his brand new eyes. "What To Expect When You're Expecting (To Turn Into A Monster)," huh?]

So is that what I am, some kinda monster now?

[Ah yes, the most terrifying monster of all: Man]

One
[Oh sure, waking up somewhere unfamiliar would make a person totally freak out... Which Donatello totally did, internally, because he has more important things to worry about. Like where his family could be, considering he was just with them.

That and he's wearing pants, thank whatever god you believe in for that, another thing that was not what just happened before he woke on the spooky ship. So the, now human, turtle has made his way up onto the deck. Not quite having noticed his change until he takes note that hey his hands have got too many fingers and are a bit less green than usual.]

Ha ha, okay this isn't funny guys. Come out and whatever you've done you can undo it.

[He's trying to sound calm, but the whole thing freaks him out and it shows in his voice just a little. Even more since he hasn't paid much heed to the fact that anyone else could be on the ship with him.]

Three
< Bootyyyshaker9000 >

Ah ha, a game is it? None of you shall be able to guess which of these is a truth or a lie!

1: I'm the smartest turtle you will ever meet.

2: While my dumb dumb brothers have mystic powers, my tech is of course superior. Even though I will admit that they do work well together.

3: I'm actually the oldest.

Threaded | Flat

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Emporio Alniño | JJBA: Stone Ocean