TDM: December/January

[ryslighelpers]

TDM: DECEMBER/JANUARY

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: imprisonment)

You wake up in a dark, windowless room. Your hands are tied behind your back, the cold concrete solid against your cheek where you lie on the floor.

As your eyes adjust to the lack of light, you can see your prison in more detail. It appears to be an unfinished basement, the walls made of the same featureless concrete as the ceiling and floor. There is a bucket in the corner, a locked metal door, a single cot with a ragged blanket, a few jagged pieces of metal tossed aside in the corner, and… is that another person?

That’s right. You’re not alone in this prison. Someone else has woken up here too, in just the same state - confused, lost, tied up.

You may as well get to know your new friend. Maybe you could even cook up an escape plan together? You might be here for a while, and, after all… there’s only one bed.

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> Happy Nattensfest everyone!!! If you could have any gift you wanted for Nattensfest, what would it be? It doesn't have to be a thing you can hold, it can be a magical spell or a cool new monster feature too. Or you can wish for world peace I guess... But there's way more imaginative gifts out there! Live your dreams!

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

Basil | Omori | OTA | cw: brief desc of drowning

[polarvoid]

Scenario One

[Basil wakes with a start. A sharp, pained sounding inhale, then uncontrollable coughing soon follows as he doubles over, curling in on himself as he fights against the very-recent sensation of drowning. The last thing he remembers is being pushed, then the cold water of the lake, then darkness. It's...still dark, actually, and as he takes in shallow, frantic breaths, he comes to the slow realization that he isn't underwater anymore. The cool concrete beneath him had fooled him for a moment, but now it's impossible to mistake.

Though it's tempting to screw his eyes shut until he either wakes up...or doesn't, Basil forces himself to keep his eyes open wide, unblinking. Darting around the room to try and make sense of where he is as his eyes adjust to the darkness. As if being in a place this dark wasn't terrifying enough, the telltale features of what seems to be a cell are nearly enough to send him into an outright panic.

He tries to sit up, struggling when he realizes that he can't, at least not easily. His hands are tied firmly behind his back, wrists already beginning to ache from his unknowing struggling against the restraints. And as panic starts to set in...his eyes shift over and he finally notices someone else- maybe something else- in the room with him.

Basil sucks in another breath, a broken, terrified sound catching in the back of his throat as he jerks back with alarm, moving too quickly and knocking the back of his head against the wall of the basement. It's not a hard hit, but it's enough to snap him out of his own thoughts long enough to realize that he might be in actual danger here. No, actually, he is.

And throughout it all, he can't help but feel that he deserves this.]

N-no...no no no....

Scenario Three

[It's taken Basil some time to get adjusted (if you could even call it that), but at the very least- for now- he has a moment alone to himself. Whether he ended up at the apartment complex, the soup kitchen, or the Lighthouse, he's doing his best to keep to himself. People have been...shockingly nice. Helpful. Even the ones that look like something out of a nightmare, leaving him not fully convinced yet that he isn't dreaming.

But he's overwhelmed. He's scared. He wants nothing more than to be back home, to hide in his bedroom until this feeling goes away, but he can't.

So here he sits, with a computer unlike anything he's ever seen propped up on his knees. This technology is still very new back home, and not everyone can afford the blocky models currently on the market. It's baffling to Basil that he'd be given one for free. It seems like there should be some sort of catch...

It takes a bit of doing to figure out, but eventually he does. Maybe...maybe he can learn some more this way. It's easier than trying to talk to people in person right now.]

< Daisy >

What's Nattensfest?

[NOTE: You're also free to talk to him as he's writing on his laptop and can assume he's at any of the listed locations!]

Scenario Four - Shade

[At the park, in a little area that's been meticulously cleared of weeds and other undergrowth threatening to overrun the ground, there is a small bed of flowers. So small, in fact, that one might mistake it for a lump of dirt if it weren't for the buds just starting to blossom. The thing is, it's winter. These flowers- pansies, to be specific- shouldn't be here, should they? Not unless they're ones brought about by a Nymph (and it's very likely they were), but even then...

The monster currently tending to them isn't a Nymph at all.

A shadow that's visibly struggling to keep its form hovers near the dirt, just a few inches above the ground. Just a few feet away sits a watering can, one that starts to hover after a few seconds of nothing. It wobbles in midair, threatening to tip over at every turn but managing to stay mostly upright enough to only spill it a couple times on its way over to the bed. Carefully, carefully, the can tips over the flowers...

The water showers them for only a second before the Shade lifting the can loses control, causing it to tumble over. It doesn't fall onto and crush the flowers, thankfully, but it does land on its side as all of its contents spill out into the sparse, dry grass.

The Shade's form shudders, and becomes even more loose and wispy. It sinks down to the ground, like someone might if they were sitting down, and anyone happening to listen might catch an echoey, distressed sound as the watering can sort of gets shifted a little in the newly created mud, the Shade trying to pick it back up but failing. Most of the water has been dumped out of it though...]

[Feel free to hit me up at winterbolt for plotting if none of these prompts work! Also, Basil's canon touches on some heavy subjects that are detailed in my Permissions/Opt Outs here, but I won't be getting into anything heavy for a TDM. Just want people to be aware in case they want to avoid!]

Three - feel free to leave this to the network if you don't want him to recognize her for reasons...

[letshangout]

[Hope this is okay!

Mari looks at the laptop screen, and tentatively, she types out a reply.]

< PicnicBasket >

Nattensfest...well. It certainly sounds German.
That having been said, judging by that post above, it sounds like Christmas...if you're familiar with that back home? That may not make sense. I know this place takes people from all parts.

But it's a holiday where people tend to give other people gifts to show their love. Did you have any gifts you'd like to receive?

Lucius the Eternal | Warhammer 40,000 | returning oldbie :')

[chemoscion]

i | SCENARIO ONE

[ When Lucius opens his eyes to blackness, adrenaline surges up to greet his return to consciousness—a fight response, mind ready to claw its way through the muck and wrest the ghosts that plague it back into their proper place.

But then shapes begin to resolve themselves in the darkness, and he knows instantly that the blanket over his senses isn't the plague he had first assumed it to be. He curses under his breath—thrice-damned something-or-other—and for as mild as his language is, his tone conveys absolute venom. He strains his wrists against their bindings, feels rope (rope!), and rolls his eyes as he turns over to rise up on his knees.

Now, what to do? His mouth floods with saliva, for a moment—and then he remembers that doesn't work in this fool body, so he turns his head aside and spits on the floor in disgust instead. Squinting through the gloom, he takes stock of his surroundings. ]

You— Look alive.

[ The voice that addresses you is sharp and imperious—half-military, half-royalty. Even that can't cover its distinct youthfulness, though—and, indeed, the eyes that bore into you through the dim lighting are set within a boyish, unmarred face. He parts his lips again; however, rather than words, what passes through his teeth this time is the wet pink of a tongue.

An... extremely long tongue. Despite the perfect humanity of the visage it extends from, it lolls what must be the length of a foot from his mouth. As he bends forward where he kneels, it slithers near the floor like a seeking serpent, and where it finds a jagged shard of that discarded metal, it coils around it with the dexterity of a hand.

He stares at you. His eyebrows arch—an impatient, incredulous kind of expression, as though he thinks what he expects from you ought to be obvious. ]

ii | SCENARIO TWO (A)

[ Lucius trudges down one of Bavan's streets—or so it feels to him, anyway. In reality, by any normal person's standards, his gait would be regarded as easy and graceful; however, by a normal person's standards, his senses of sight and sound and smell would also be considered perfectly adequate. They aren't, and anyone particularly attentive will notice the rapid way he blinks, as if trying and failing to bring his eyes into focus.

It's an activity that brings him to a stop in front of a storefront window—blinking, staring through the glass, squinting to the shelves that line the back wall, over and over. He runs through two or perhaps three of such cycles before the focus of his gaze latches onto his reflection in the window instead. It's a mistake—in more ways than one. The face that stares back at him is insulting, and in even more dire condition than he had anticipated it being. ]

Of course! [ He half-shouts, the outburst dripping with irritated sarcasm. ] Why should that wispy bitch let me keep even the fruits of my own handiwork?

[ How dare she. Again, his teeth part; his tongue, the only part of him that seems to have maintained any form of modification, flits between them. Rather than raising fingers to his unscarred skin, his tongue licks across his own cheek, confirming its perfectly smooth and unblemished texture. ]

iii | SCENARIO TWO (B) (cw: casual murder)

[ He must look like an easy target. It's only natural; in this form, he would appear barely old enough to claim adulthood, and with no impressive stature to dissuade any assumptions of vulnerability. Oh, how he loathes having to look up to meet the eyes of these mortal larva—Lucius doesn't even hear the words that pour from the lips of the man before him. Whether he has had enough of monsters infecting this city, killing his kin, or if he simply saw a genteel face and assumed Lucius to be a native with money—Lucius will never know.

A jagged shard of metal still sits in his back pocket, carelessly tucked away after his daring escape from confinement. Easily, casually, as though he were simply reaching into his pocket to pluck up a wallet, his fingers wrap around it; then, in the next second, his hand lashes out, burying its razor edge into that mortal man's neck with the exact same nonchalance. He feels the resistance of flesh before it parts, and the heat of fresh blood where it pours over his fingers—but still, this is nothing more than crushing an ant. There's no satisfaction to flood his senses as Lucius withdraws his hand and watches the soon-to-be-corpse stumble back. ]

I apologize— [ But, still, it's a little funny. It's always a little funny, watching some insect stare up at him as if it can't believe Lucius the Eternal would take life with such indifference. His lips curl in a sharp smile, cold and cruel. ] I wasn't listening. Could you repeat that?

iv | SCENARIO THREE

user id: aeternus
Is the answer not obvious? My gene-seed.
Evidently, that idiot creature must craft me this flimsy body anew every time. That can only mean one thing: my original flesh still exists elsewhere, unmolested by Her sorcery. All that is necessary is to find and reclaim it.

v | WILDCARD

[ Just be sure to mind the warnings on his opt-out post! ]

iii

[beyondtheshore]

[Andrew is on his way from his Djavulenstad flat to his home in Bavan, to do his usual weekly assesment of things: clean out the refridgerator, keep it tidy, in case he needs to meet anyone there to do business. Hearing the fellow in front of the window grumbling catches the vampire's attention, and he pauses, glancing over his shoulder]

If you speak of the Fog, you are right to not give her any accolades. Gods are a farce and a crutch for the weak, my friend.

[the only hint Lucius will get of his Otherness is his pallor and a brief flash of iron fangs]

Ken Ichijouji | Digimon Adventure 02 | Returning (Nephilim) | cw identity crisis

[ourtomorrow]

[ 1:// ghost game ]

[ Hey, captive. Yeah, you, person whose eyes are adjusting to the UTTER DARKNESS and thus can make out that while every object listed in the prompt above is present in your cell, so is....a knotted loop of rope with nothing inside it. And no other person. Lucky you, huh? You got a creepy basement all to yourself.

....Or did you? There's a....mist....floating in this prison. A faint haze. A mist which, if you squint into it, will address you, a boy's clear voice ringing out of nowhere: ]

Um!

Can you - see me?

[ Hooray, you're being haunted. By a...socially awkward ghost? ]

[ 2:// ]

[ Ken pops back into physical being when exposed to sufficient light, and not a moment too soon! He had started to feel himself....fraying, almost...while a mist. It had grown difficult to hang onto a sense of identity, to string thoughts together. He had felt himself unbecoming himself.

It had been terrifying.

So, here, on all fours, on the ground, in December, halo casting a faint pink light across the scene but no shadow present, is an...angel? Four feathery wings, arranged like a dragonfly's, sprout from his back, and a tail lies flopped on the pavement beside him. He's shaking, shivering, trying not to cry, and from the back of his neck (around a mop-like mane), a blue eye stares wildly up at you. ]

I.........I......

I'm.........

[ Again. He'd almost lost himself again. Almost forgotten all of his important things - all of his precious people, memories, his self - he wants, he realizes, his self; he wants to learn more about it; there's a fierce stab of joy before the fear takes over again, the fear and the anger - ]

I'm..............................

[ 3:// ]

[ "Dænny's", proclaims the sign outside this diner. "Open 24 hours!"

Sure enough, it's 2 am and the lights are on. In a booth stuck as far back out of the way as possible, the angel boy is sitting and folding origami shapes out of napkins. It was very kind of the waitress to let him have extras for this. He needs to thank her.

He needs to figure out where to go from here. In Ryslig, transformed. A nephilim this time. And the reason....

A finger runs along a long precise crease, and he frowns. The source of all this - he'd learned it last time. Never got a chance to stand up to it.

Why again? ]

Fog...God.....

2. THE BOY!!!

[certaininequities]

[Norman's headed back from Oscorp at an ungodly hour - dawn - when he sees a figure simply APPEAR as the first rays of dawn come over the horizon. He brings his van over to the curb, parking, and rushes over, crouching down next to the nephilim. Since Stephen is one, he knows exactly what's going on here, but not who he's approaching]

Hey, are you oka-

[and then he raises his head, and Norman's eyes widen in shock]

Ken!

Kirby | Kirby series | OTA

[gourmandofthestars]

SCENARIO 1
[Sideways. Everything was sideways. The small captive human boy across from you wriggles and shimmies in a frantic yet controlled sort of way, struggling to get to an upright position. Once he manages it, he looks around, squinting in the darkness, until he happens upon your figure.]

Hi~!

[It’s perhaps an unexpectedly cheery reaction, given the circumstances.]

Hey hey, do you know where we are?

[He’s attempting to scoot a little closer to you now.]

What’s going on here?? This isn’t where I fell asleep!!

SCENARIO 2A
[The clothes and pamphlets that people seemed eager to give him as he wandered the streets were were graciously accepted but what Kirby was really interested in was the city itself, and more importantly, the food.

Catch him walking (rather awkwardly, as he was still getting used to having actual legs) full of wide-eyed wonderment down the streets, shoveling fruit and bread and anything else that the locals might’ve given him (food or otherwise) into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in days. He’s quite young looking - pudgy and only about 4’11” with bubblegum pink hair. Does someone need to make a Lost Child report???]

Wow! This definitely isn’t Dream Land! Hey, what’s this place called, huh?

[He says through a mouthful, glancing in the direction of the nearest person/monster.]

SCENARIO 2B
[Tragedy has struck! It’s been hours since Kirby’s last snack! He slumps down onto the street - maybe up against a building or maybe right in the middle of the sidewalk like a child throwing a tantrum.]

Ahh, I’m so hungry, I’m really gonna die~~

[In between the dramatic proclamations, he’s making furtive glances at any passersby with big, pleading eyes. Won’t you feed this poor lost soul?!]

SCENARIO 3
[Gosh, this computer seems pretty outdated - not like the technology on Magolor’s ship at all. Actually, this OS reminds him a bit of the battle with Computer Virus! Nostalgic~ But anyway, enough about the past, let’s talk about the present — and by present, I mean presents!! Kirby’s got these neat FINGERS now which make typing much easier, even if he’s still hunting and pecking. He carefully types in a reply to the top post:]

What is Nattenfest? Is it a celebration? I love celebrations!! If we’re getting presents, I’d like something delicious, please! Like a great big cake, as tall as me with lots of buttercream and strawberries on top!! Cake is my favorite food! What’s your favorite?

WILDCARD
[None of these striking your fancy? Hit me up via PM or over at plurk at carrieface and we can brainstorm something else! This is my first time at Ryslig so I’ve got the newbie jitters ahaha. Um! I’ll be in your care! /bows]

One

[letshangout]

[Whoa! The giant HI makes her jump. Mari blinks - what an energetic kid. She clears her throat.]

This isn't where I last remember being, either.

[...that's a polite way to put it]

Um, I'm not sure what's going on. So I suppose that makes two of us. But...we probably should try to get out. This doesn't seem like a good place to be for too long.

Mari | OMORI

[letshangout]

One!

[Her eyes shoot open, and her throat is dry. Mari tries to speak for a moment - there's a blur of memories she remembers - until she shuts her mouth uncharacteristically timidly.]

. . .

[Where is she? It looks like some place some kind of kidnapper would toss their victim...she's cold, and in an unfamiliar location, and, and...she looks down. Then back up. Then she notices she's not alone. That makes her furrow her brow. Right. She can't be afraid. She looks to her companion.]

Well, at least we're together in this?

[There's not much she can say without sounding callous, but she's trying...]

Two!
[There's a lot of glares passed her way. Mari doesn't flinch, and she keeps her head up. It's not pleasant, it's far from pleasant, but she's dutifully trying to look the responsible girl. She bites her lip - hard - and then she hears the directions to the clinic. Maybe they'll be more accommodating. She begins to try to follow the directions before...she gets lost.

Oh. Well.

She finally turns to the person nearest her, puffing out a sigh.]

Pardon me. I don't suppose you know where the clinic is -- the Crowe Clinic, I believe? I'm a bit new. I'm lost.

Three!
[Mari looks at the post, and then she giggles to herself. She taps her chin before she replies.]

I'm far more used to getting other people things than receiving. Um. I'm not sure. Pianos are pretty expensive to ask for, especially from strangers...maybe a notebook? That could be useful.

I'll take notes of what everyone else would like!

Four! (Wild Card)
[Please note that Omori has serious themes of grief, depression, and suicide. I'll be avoiding this as much as I can for the TDM, but be careful! I'm pretty adaptable, so I'm up for anything. Thank you for reading!]

Two

[youngtimer]

[the teenaged boy with the red-and-black moth wings glances over at her, not exactly surprised or disturbed at being addressed, and nods]

Yeah, definitely. You're actually not too far off... maybe took a wrong turn a couple streets back, but there's another way to get there from here. Are you hurt? If you need immediate help, I can get you there right now.

Nagito Komaeda | Danganronpa | Returning Oldbie [OTA]

[luckless]

i. Scenario One

[One minute, everything is lost within a void—no sounds, no sights—and the next, he can blink his eyes open with the sound of distant dripping water, and the vague shapes of an empty room. Well, not quite empty. There's no chance to be afraid, it's the same song and dance as every time before, but he does need to make sure whomever is sharing this cell with him is an ally.]

Hello there.

[His tone is calm and cheerful as he speaks to the faceless darkness, all while trying to unfold his arms from his back. There's no use for that either, though. It seems that a lack of a left hand won't stop whomever is holding them here from binding his forearms together.]

I have a bit of an odd question for you, but... What do you remember before waking up here?

ii. Scenario Two (Downtown Bavan)

[Whatever has happened in Ryslig since has last arrival has left the general population more guarded, from what he can tell. It's always hard to figure out just how much time has passed since his sleep within the Sea. His first thought is to make his way to Insert Coin, or to the apartments, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't somewhat disoriented from... well, everything.

Humans keep trying to hand him fliers, pamphlets, information about the Lighthouse. Komaeda turns them all away, politely trying to explain that he knows, this isn't his first time, but no one wishes to listen. Frustration is quickly pulling tension through his shoulders, and so finally, he resolves to first find a familiar face. Or even just a monstrous one.

With a new goal in mind, he sets out trying to find any monster willing to talk to him. He doesn't care if he doesn't immediately recognize them or not, instead just approaching them from behind and grabbing at their arm for their attention, while just a tad breathless.]

Excuse me! Could you please answer something for me...?

iii. Scenario Two (38-8 Apartments) [cw: mild body horror and implied self-harm]

[Despite his attempts to reorient himself, the Fog has other ideas it seems. Halfway back home, the expected unexpected happens (with the best timing, as always).

A wet slap is the first signal that something is truly wrong, and when Komaeda turns, he notices the familiar sight of his own sloughed skin on the sidewalk behind him. With a heavy sigh, he begins to inspect himself to see where it could have come from, and finds his bloodied pantleg to be the culprit.]

Really...? You would think She would get tired of this already... I mean, what's the point of making me human when she brings me back?

[Komaeda is complaining to no one in particular, but also, his own irritation for this morning has only gotten worse as the day progresses. So he does what any sane man would...

He reaches up and starts peeling himself.

Whether you're just walking by, or you notice him from your Apartment window, you'll just see some young man pulling his clothes off, before grabbing his skin and tearing at it without a single thought for pain or convenience.]

OOC

[For those unfamiliar with Komaeda, please feel free to take a look at his opt-out for character warnings as he has a litany of issues, and keep in mind that he is also prone to excessive self deprecation as well. If you'd like to reach out to me, I'm at megagaytm!]

1 - im sorry, he's just like this

[makesascene]

No, noonono- we have more serious matters to attend to.

Why does your hair look like weird crinkle cut fries? Did you win or lose a fight against a deep fryer? [Leo is very aware they are being held hostage, but he's easily distracted. Hardly the first time he's been imprisoned, who cares. Bigger things to tackle.

He really shouldn't say anything since he's a turtle who turned into a bug and now has yoda ears.]

Elfnein | Symphogear | OTA

[alchemists]

01. Scenario One

[ Elfnein was slowly waking up, when did she even fall asleep in the first place? She was at her desk on the S.O.N.G base working on a new interface for her brain dive machine. There was even a pot of fresh coffee for her to drink, there shouldn't be a reason for falling asleep at her desk. ]

It's dark?

[ Her eyes were open now, but the light from her desk wasn't there, the room was completely dark and cold. Panic was setting in, think think think, did someone move her to her bedroom after they noticed her asleep? ]

Where am I now... this is too cold to be my room.

02. Scenario Two

[ The heavy laptop and a bundle of papers were shoved into Elfnein's arms along with some vague directions for different places to go. One passerby had given her a coat to wear on top of what she woke up in and wouldn't take no for an answer. With what little she had to go off of it was sorta safe to assume that most people were willing to at least offer vague help to people like her. ]

Lighthouse, I need to find that first I think?

[ Time to see if anyone else was in the same boat. ]

03. Scenario Three

User ID: 119
Is Nattensfest the same as Christmas? If that is the case then I just wish to see a certain person again. B-but it's not really something that can be done right now so please don't worry!

2

[murdererofmiracles]

...Oh you have got to be kidding me.

[ Carol hisses those words to herself after she's promptly hidden herself behind the nearest corner after seeing a face that is far more familiar than most people could ever experience. Mostly because she needs to seethe for a moment.

Her other self is the last person who should be here, so the fact that she now is? That makes this personal.

...granted, it already WAS personal, but now it's just... more personal. ]

Ugh...

[ She runs a clawed, furred hand down her face. Of all the times for Elfnein to come, it had to come when she was two months into her own changes and looking more like a raccoon than ever. At least her face is still the same, save for the fur covering the entirety of it, along with darker fur around her eyes giving her the unsurprising raccoon mask look.

Put simply, it's embarassing. Especially since she's only bound to change even more next month. Still, she doubts she can avoid Elfnein forever... and even if she could, it certainly wouldn't sit right with her. The poor girl is a mess on her own... she can barely walk a few steps without falling over, after all.

So, with a long sigh, she finally makes herself known. ]

I didn't expect I'd see you again like this.

[ Suddenly, from behind, Carol! With raccoon ears, a bushy tail, and so... so much fur. If anything, the fur at least hides her blush. ]

harry osborn ( insomniac!spider-man )

[oshtoran]

SCENARIO TWO
[ he's not injured, but he's definitely on the wobbly side, considering how advanced his condition is these days. it means that he's been taking frequent breaks as he makes his way toward wherever these apartments are, and he looks pale and thin and exhausted where he perches slightly precariously against a small ledge outside a shop.

he's.. pretty turned around, and on a side-street like this, he's not really expecting to see anyone-- so when someone turns down the street, he rises abruptly, trying to keep from stumbling as he does so. god, he hates how unreliable his body is now. ]

Hi! Ah, sorry, just-- [ he pushes his glasses up his face, probably looking as bewildered as he feels. ] I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm apparently looking for the 38-8 Apartments..?


SCENARIO THREE
un: h.osborn
This is probably a strange question, but what is healthcare like here? Particularly for chronic conditions. I haven't really had a straight answer yet.
Thank you.


WILDCARD
[ ooc; idk i'm just vibing. feel free to also encounter him mildly panicking at the apartments about the pamphlet, or cautiously investigating the area. harry's from the 2018 spider-man game + novels. ]

<DrOsborn> OMG HI

[certaininequities]

[NO. it can't be. can it? don't jump at shadows, Osborn. just don't. this isn't your son. there's no way.]

I suppose it depends upon the condition... Even if something doesn't currently exist, I'm in the pharmeceutical business. I could figure something out.

Frollo | Hunchback of Notre Dame | blanket CWs for racism, sexism, religiosity, and use of slurs

[claudedjudgement]

[ I. ]
[Claude Frollo has spent significant time in windowless, cold, ugly cells where the inhabitants are tied up and left to rot. The difference being, of course, that he has always been the one putting them there. That's justice.]

[He is not used to being the one tied up, and he is not at all happy about it. He manages, with some difficulty, to struggle to his feet, glaring down his cellmate as though this is somehow their fault.]

You. Tell me who dares treat their betters this way. Tell me at once!


[ II:i. ]
[Out in the streets, things are at least a little more... manageable. Not civilised, he won't go that far, but at least no worse than the cesspit of humanity that is any godless city. At least people have the good sense not to look him in the eye, scurrying away like rats to go about their menial business.]

[Frollo, for his part, has business of his own. He walks with purpose, even if he doesn't actually know where he's going, stalking through the unfamiliar streets with his long robes swishing in the dirt. Somewhere here, there is the person who is responsible for bringing him here, for separating him from his life's work - and when he finds them, there will be a reckoning.]

[(It does occur to him that he remembers... something. The groan of stone breaking, and the heat of the fire, and a vision that seemed to swim before him in the flames. The gypsy witch victorious, his damnation...)]

[(Like many inconvenient thoughts, these are swiftly set aside. He is arrayed in the righteous armour of the Lord. The idea that he could have been brought so low is... simply unacceptable.)]

[He is, in any case, distracted by someone thrusting a pamphlet towards him. He takes it with much the same expression as one might take a piece of particularly reeking offal, looking at it down his nose, and then turns the full force of his glare upon the unfortunate person holding it out.]

Do you mistake me for some kind of superstitious peasant? This kind of devilish lie will not be tolerated! Do you understand me?

[This old man looks an awful lot like he might be about to hit a random Bavanite. Intervene Y/N?]


[ II:ii ]
[That is, right up until he actually sees a monster, and recoils where he stands, tippeted sleeves coming up as though to shield his face. Again, he remembers the flames, and the witch mocking him with her every breath, and the sword heavy in his hand, and...]

[He staggers back a step, crossing himself feverishly.] Sancta Maria, oro pro vobis, sancta Dei Genetrix, oro pro vobis, sancta...

Back! Get back! You have no power over me!


[ III. ]
> LAKEOFFIRE has joined the channel
> LAKEOFFIRE: What heathen madness is this?


[ IV. (Gargoyle) ]
[The change is upon him. He feels it, with a deep and uneasy horror. There is no petition, no prayer, no fervent liturgy that will spare him the sense of his own body turning against him, the pain beginning to stir in every part of him. Worst of all is the knowledge that it is being done to him as though he were nobody, as though he were just another of the ungodly, swarming masses of this ungodly, filthy land.]

[But it is upon him, and Frollo falls to his knees, hands clasped, face a mask of furious agony as the pain swells in his chest and his back and between his shoulderblades - and then bursts outwards, in a white-hot explosion of blinding, blood-spattered apotheosis.]

[His wings unfurl. He rises, bloodied and panting, leathery red wings spreading behind him, and begins to laugh.]

AND HE SHALL SEND UNTO YOU AN ANGEL! AN ANGEL OF THE LORD!

Look upon me! Look, if you dare! I have come to wield the flaming sword, to cleanse this earth of all its filth! Look, and know that the day of Judgement has come!

[Yeah, Claude, those... those aren't angel wings, buddy.]

[ II:i. ]

[bugbeverage]

<sub>[Beetlejuice loved a man of the cloth--they were hilarious! But this one, ever so curious. The Minotaur turns from the newspaper stand he'd been about to deposit a Solar into when he hears the scoffing.]

[New Meat.]

[He gravitates toward the little scene and invites himself to out stretch a striped arm to hook it around the priest's shoulders before tugging him into an overly familiar hug. He huffs chilly steam into Claude's face.]</sub>

Heeeeeey, buddy, why don't you calm down a lil, huh? There'll be plenty of time to be angry and excited later.

_{[Beetlejuice smiles with his mouth full of crooked, jagged teeth.]}

cersei lannister | asoiaf | return of a goblin - ota

[reignfall]

one 𓃭 cell block tango

⟪ Her waking is a slow thing, as though sleep has taken her for a long time indeed, and was not so eager to relinquish her to the world of the living. She is curled into a ball in one corner of the cell, and as oblivion recedes, it is becoming more and more obvious that she isn't – well. By the time she has unfurled and come 'round from her slumber, it is quite obvious that she is not wholly human anymore. Her ears are already pointed, her fingers end in claws of gold, and her skin has a slight greenish hue to it.

And that would be merely the immediately obvious little quirks her previous stint in Bavan has brought.

She blinks – the darkness troubles her not at all, and like a cat's, her eyes reflect whatever little source of light they are granted. Perhaps if she were taller, more broad of shoulder, or if she were to bare her teeth, she would look a little more troubling, and a little less like Santa's short green helper.

Dungeons. That is her first conscious thought, rattling through her sleep-addled brain like the ringing of a bell. For one of her crimes, she has been imprisoned – but this must still be Bavan, right, and none hear know all that she has done. Right? Her breathing comes in short, frightened huffs, and she means to stand, though her limbs are awfully stiff for the supposedly brief nap she has taken...

And, oh, her hands are tied. With that immediate discomfort marked down as her most solvable problem, she fixes her cellmate with a cold look. She means to convey something regal here, but considering that she can't seem to quite figure out how to stand up, she might not be able to sell anyone on that notion. ⟫ Quit your staring, peasant. Free me.

two 𓃮 homecoming queen

a. ⟪ There is no one offering her helpful advice on how to adjust – frankly, she looks as though she ought to hold some of the answers already. She has all the marks of one already in the middle of her turning into a monster, after all. And she knows Bavan! All's well, isn't it, except, of course, the obvious surface issue – the cannibalism, her lack of a title in this land, her lack of keep or castle. ⟫

Mother's mercy. ⟪ ... Ah yes, a small detail: the fact that she puts the newspaper back into its stand with trembling, clawed fingers after reading the little date in the corner. It has not been a half day's sleep that left her a bit stiff and dazed. It has been closer to two whole years.

So can anyone blame her, coinless and alone as she is, when she glances over to the shopkeep and then quickly pockets a chocolate bar. It isn't her fault the wrapping is so shiny, and while chocolate is no longer her favoured snack, it might yet taste of some comfort.

Mayhaps don't rat her out. ⟫

b. ⟪ After her little trip to the shops, and with night rapidly falling, she has problems her thieved chocolate bar cannot so quickly solve – such as the fact that she is, at the moment, without a place to stay. A less than regal predicament, especially with winter being what it is. She has little doubt that neither her home nor her things remained untouched amid her absence, and she is not quite sure what she longs for more deeply: a nice, thick coat, or at least the company of her small lion, who most likely would incite somewhat more pity than a grown woman of eight-and-ten.

She wonders what became of Tybolt.

Not quite knowing where else to start, she has decided to make her way to the 38-8 apartment complex – if not for the hope of a vaguely familiar face, then at least with the idea of claiming one of the units by royal decree. Dressed as she is in a gown that is more fitting for a renaissance fair, it is getting woefully cold, and most of the humans avoid her – in part because she eyes them hungrily, and in part because she uses her fire magic in the smallest of bursts to keep her hands warm, if nothing else. ⟫

three 𓃬 wildcard.

⟪ ooc: hit me! i'm cool with surprises, but if you would like to throw some ideas around first, you can find me on plurk at nehelenia. it's been... a long time since cersei last cursed ryslig with her presence, but i'd love to join you guys again. c: ⟫

2a

[nearamir]

[Can anyone blame her? Perhaps not. But can anyone rather pointedly set a solar or two down on the shop counter before turning to follow her? Absolutely.]

[The troll is, as trolls are wont to be, rather larger than she is: almost seven foot tall, even stooped and hunchbacked as he is, and built almost as broad as he is tall. He is a fearsome sight, even without the sword buckled at his side: his whole upper body, bare to the cold, is plated in thick slabs of stone, seamed with glinting white quartz; there are tusks protruding from his jaw and six horns around his face, and the glassy, lidless eye in the centre of his forehead seems to glow with a faint inner fire. Yet his face itself is almost human, besides the tusks, and not unkind; and he holds out a hand as he approaches.]

Hold a moment, lady. You seem lost.

Yet we are guests in this land. There is help that may be given, that you need not take without asking.

Donatello Hamato - Rise of the TMNT - OTA - Movie Spoilers probably

[soft_shelled]

Scenario 1
[His mask is wet, which isn't a surprise to him. He had just been crying mere moments before he woke up... Wait, he was wide awake on Staten Island a moment ago, but now he's in a dark place. Hands behind his back, and a panic welling up because he doesn't feel the constant presence of his battle shell on his back.

In fact, his whole body feels weird, as the Japanese teenager wearing a purple mask, leg and arm wraps and pretty much just bike shorts tries his best to get himself upright. Not noticing the other person in the room with him, instead he shouts for his brothers. At least the two he was with before he ended up here.]

Raph? Mikey?! [He's trying to sound calm, but anyone who knows Donatello well can hear the panic in his voice as he struggles against his bindings.]

Scenario 2
[Okay so... Human now, that is something to deal with. On top of the information in the pamphlets, he was given along with a shirt and shoes, which are spread on the ground in front of him. He's taken his mask off, so he's not so easily identifiable via that, although it is around his neck for the moment, as he sits beside a building and talks mostly to himself.]

Cool, cool, cool. Stay calm, Donatello. Being human can't be that bad, and really the monster thing has got to be a joke. You just need to, like, find your brothers and everything will be okay...

[Maybe he looks up and catches the eye of a wandering person, or monster. Either way, he doesn't look too calm.]

Scenario 3
[Ah the internet, not as vast as back home, and he seems limited in how far back he can go but! It's better than nothing.]

< Bootyyyshaker9000 >
I have no idea what this "Nattenfest" is, aside from something with gifts. Well if I really had to wish for something, could it be one of my battle shells?

Not that any of you know what that is, but it's something I created for myself and I'm almost never without one on me, so you can see why that's something I'd like.

Wildcard
[Make up something better, or idk. Want something different, hit me up over at JustAshu and we can hash something out.]

2

[letshangout]

[Oh. That's someone who looks more nervous than her, mumbling to himself. Mari pauses, then crouches down.]

Hello there. Is everything alright?

[She keeps her voice level, trained to dealing with panic. Her little brother would be panicking too, she thinks.]

Casimir Zarek | OC | Returning Nephilim

[borntoreign]

[[ One ]]
[This is the kind of nightmare that has come to him in those few feverish, injured states where he sleeps readily enough to dream. The stone is cold against his cheek. He cannot reach his knives - any of his knives. He is helpless. He is weak.]

[He refuses to allow weakness. It is not a nightmare. It is an opportunity to triumph.]

[He lies there for a moment after he awakes, feigning continued unconsciousness. This is made more difficult by the fact that he is still in the body he last remembers - the eight eagle wings, the blind golden eyes staring from every scar, the dazzling halo-crown floating above his head - and the eyes in the back of his head are lidless.]

[Still, he does a decent job of pretending, until he considers himself to have enough of a grasp on his situation to stir. The Nephilim moves swiftly, when he moves, rolling smoothly to his feet, and pushing down the nausea churning in his gut.]

[This cell is dark, illuminated mostly by the flickering glow of his halo and the soft golden light that seems to filter from beneath his skin. He cannot survive long here.]

[He refuses to show this weakness, too, his face stony as he turns to his cellmate.]

You. On your feet. How did you come to be here?


[[ Two ]]
[The air of Bavan has never felt so sweet. He flexes his wings as he steps out into the foggy daylight, inhaling deeply. He has work to do.]

[You may find him not long after, in a scarcely-hidden alleyway, matter-of-factly slitting the throat of a young woman. Yes, of course, he could purify her, consume her soul... but he's always found that there's something more invigorating in the simpler, more human ways of doing things.]

[He looks up at the sound of someone approaching. Blood still flows freely from the gurgling woman over his manicured hands, splashing onto his bright blue suit and the golden feathers of his wings. He smiles.]

I don't suppose you saw which car these keys belong to?



[[ Three ]]
< bloodwillout > : Nattensfest? Is it that time already?
< bloodwillout > : Gifts are a trick. There is no value to anything that is given without a cost. I want none of it. Offer me no gifts; when I want something, I will value it more for gaining it myself.
< bloodwillout > : Though I suppose others may differ. Who am I to judge if you prefer complacency to courage?

one.

[reignfall]

Did I strike you as awake?

⟪ Mayhaps she ought to contain her temper, but she is sore from her rest on the cell floor, and she has just about managed to seat herself on the edge of the meagre cot that is surely meant to be hers. Her wrists hurt from the bindings, and she is in no mood to be addressed as though she is a servant.

She remains seated. Demonstratively, even though he is an impressive sight with all eight wings and the halo and the eyes and eyes and eyes – 

Oh. ⟫

My, noble Emperor. Some time must have passed.

Finnick Odair | The Hunger Game (books) | OTA

[dealerofsecrets]

a. imprisonment

[ The moment Finnick wakes, he's on his feet. The survival instincts that have been ingrained within him don't allow for a moment's respite. Immediately, he's trying to do undo his hands, but with little success. It's as Finnick twists at the restraints that his eyes fall on another person.

Friend or foe? The answer may come a bit more easily if he can figure out what's happening, but none of this makes sense. If this is another Game, the arena is far too small to be interesting.

Unless, the plot has been discovered, and Finnick's been captured by the Capital... But this doesn't feel like the Capital.

Careful, cautious, always ready for the second body to be a plant, Finnick approaches and bends down. ]

Hey. Not that being awake is all that great, but sleeping is dangerous now. Time to wake up.

b. lost

[ Can one be lost when he has no destination? Finnick isn't entirely sure, but he's a bit overwhelmed at the moment. Nothing falters in his charming face, and he seems as confident now as he would be at home, but it's all a screen.

As he looks up, Finnick catches someone's eye. Maybe they recognize him as a new face, maybe they just happened to look past him at the right moment. Whatever it is, he decides conversation might help shine a light on his current situation.

He waves the pamphlet about. ]

What to expect when you're expecting to turn into a monster. They were probably pretty proud of that one, huh?

c. questions (cw for the Hunger Games which often involves child death;

[ It doesn't matter who the person is. If they're walking, Finnick has no qualms about falling in step to talk. If they're sitting, he'll premise with a 'is this seat taken'? No matter the encounter, he's confident and friendly. It's a question he plans to ask multiple people to see if there's any continuity. ]

When was the last Hunger Games?

(ooc | Lynx (Ash's player) here, test driving Finnick. I'm open to wildcards galore. If you want to reach me, I'm at wrinklesintimesor wrinklesintimes#2905)

c

[letshangout]

[Mari shakes her head - she's sitting on a bench when this other boy approaches. She's just trying to collect her thoughts, but his question...is an odd one.]

I'm sorry, I don't know what a Hunger Game is.

[but]

It doesn't sound pleasant, though.

Larry | Pokemon Scarlet/Violet

[exceptionaleveryman]

Scenario 1

[Larry wakes up slowly and stiff from the hard floor. He wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep but, well, he can't be late for work. He tries to rub the sleep out of his eyes but it's then he realizes that his hands are tied behind his back.

Yeah that's not a fun thing to wake up to. He awkwardly sits himself up and looks around. Yeah this was definitely prison. He reaches to his waist to see if he has his pokeballs still on him only to find nothing.]

Ah.

[Yeah he doesn't have his Pokemon on him. He supposed that makes sense if he's in prison. He sits there for a moment, confused but mostly tired, before he makes note of the other person in the room.]

... What are you in here for?

Scenario 3

I don't know what Nattensfest is, but all I want is a solid 8 hours of rest.

Or I guess any of my Pokemon. I kind of miss them

[He misses them a lot.]

Scenario 4 - Neph

[All and all, Larry was quick to settle into a routine in this world. Really it wasn't a whole lot different from his old home except there was a greater chance of getting killed and how he will likely have to kill himself.

Which sounded like an absolute bummer. He isn't exactly the most athletic person out there and he didn't even want to think about having to get new outfits to accommodate for his changes and any blood stains.

This morning he decides to shove those thoughts away as he heads to work, but he is stopped by a sudden, sharp pain in his back. He lets out a cry in pain as he doubles over. And suddenly, six wings sprout from his back, two pairs seem like regular bird wings, but one seems strangely cloud-like in nature. To complete the look a white crescent halo appears over his head. Larry takes a moment to compose himself from the pain as he looks at his newly sprouted wings.

And then he just... stands back up and continues to head to work as if nothing happened.]

Bonus < larry >
Best restaurants in Bavan

What to eat in Bavan

Local Bavan cuisine

[A few minutes pass, then-]

How to use the search function

[Give him a moment he'll get this.]

Wildcard

[Let me know if there's anything else you want with him! My plurk is blankblankity]

<weather_report> Bonus!

[sweetnighter]

hey. i checked this thing from top to bottom.

its not a real internet. more like a chat client or something. youre out of luck if you want to get info without talking to someone

[There is a significant pause.]

i went to a place called mr. steak by the way. was pretty good. unless you hate steaks, then i dunno

Lt. Col. John Sheppard | Stargate: Atlantis | OTA

[ferriswheelsandfootball]

Scenario One - This isn't the first time he's woken up in a cell. This isn't even the second, or the third, because really, he's lost count.

He pushes himself up into a seated position with a muffled noise that sounds more like a complaint than a grunt of exertion. He doesn't exactly remember the sequence of events that led him here, but right now he could be on any number of planets that still housed conditions like this for their prisons and dungeons, so he's a bit at a loss here. Genii, maybe? Not the Wraith, unless he's about to be happily delivered to the Wraith in exchange for some protection.

But it looks like there's someone else here, as he turns his head to look, scootching over to where the metal pieces are so he can start working away at his bonds.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you're about to have a really bad day."

Scenario Three

Un: Pegasus

When you say magical spell or cool new monster feature, is that code for something?

In the meantime, I'd like a nice turkey sandwich.

Scenario Four - Mer , cw: body horror

In the grand tradition of his typical luck, it's raining and the first change that happens to him happens quite quickly and aggressively.

Because one moment, he was standing out in the street, looking fairly disgruntled at the change in weather, holding his hand out to confirm that yes, it's raining, and then not a second later he's face-first on the ground.

"Ow."

For a moment he thought that maybe he just slipped. But when he tries to pick himself up, there's a slew of completely confusing sensations in his legs that make 0 sense. A lot of those sensations are pain. A gentle, brief interlude of extreme yelling later, and he finally picks up the courage to look at what happened to his legs.

...which simply aren't there anymore. If they were, they are now a large, greenish-blue fish tail.

...

There's a sigh.

"I guess that's better than being a bug."

Wildcard - Anything goes!

[OOC note: Stargate Atlantis is a fairly lighthearted canon at times but can get very dark and heavy, John is a soldier and he and the people he works with have committed some heinous acts including biological warfare and other war crimes. It shouldn't come up in the TDM but I wanted to make sure it was known in case anyone wants to avoid.]

3

[summonthesuit]

Un: HasNoFear

No, sorry, it's not code. Exactly what you think it is, that's what it is. Did you not get the rundown when you first arrived? The whole... man-eating monster, cross gods, weird powers bit? Sounds like a load of tosh, but unfortunately the tosh is reality.

Turkey sandwich sounds like an awful modest choice either way. It did say you could ask for anything.

Yuuna Yuuki | Yuuki Yuuna is a Hero (Yuusha De Aru)

[tastefulheroism]

1. Scenario Two Version One

[This is all so... overwhelming, honestly? She's just standing still on the corner of a street for a while. Then raising up her hands in a submissive gesture to a local who eyes her with suspicion:]

Uh--excuse me! Excuse me, hello! Do you know where we are? Hello?

[The passerby, an adult, keeps walking on without stopping. She blinks a couple times before waving down another one.]

Hey! Hey, I'm Yuuna Yuuki can you--

[Ignored again. She's getting a little frustrated, her smile becoming a little strained but she's not going to punch a civilian. She's not going to punch a civilian.

That doesn't mean she doesn't want to.]

2. Scenario Two version Two

[The red-head that was trying to ask for directions is no where to be found now. Instead, there's a commotion coming from a small park. A child is yelling as--there she is. Yuuna is in a tree, holding a struggling cat in her arms.]

Hold on--I'll bring this kid down to you in a moment! Don't worry--

[There's a yowl as Yuuna is struggling to keep her balance in the tree as the child below is having a bit of a break down. Yuuna seems to get her balance back as she climbs down but it looks rough.

Maybe a bit of help is needed.]

3. Scenario Three

mm... can i say i want to make people happy? i think that would be a good present!

oh, i know! udon! udon would be the best.

4. Scenario Four (Minotaur; cw blood)

[Yuuna has a headache and she's annoyed about it. The blood dripping from the wounds from the newly grown horns is even getting her eyes. She wipes it away with the back of her hand as the pain is settling in her very muscles. She leans against a building as she tries to force a smile if someone draws near.

No, no, she's okay. She just needs some aspirin. She'll be alright. Don't worry.

Yet, the ache in her muscles from suddenly growing at an enhanced rate is there. It's matched by her metabolism changing: she's hungry. So, so hungry.

The long ox-like ears flick forward. She lowers her head slightly. Her smile shows a little more teeth. If you're lucky, she's still restrained enough to ask for directions to a restuarant or deli.

If you're not? Well. Hope you can dodge a charging newly-fledged minotaur. She's lowering her head and running quickly towards you. Headbutting is a form of punching, after all.]

2

[roseheartz]

[The commotion attracts Rose Quartz's attention as if it's a magnet. She approaches the tree, peering up at it with her bright red eyes. She's not as tall as she used to be, but 6'5" is still a pretty impressive height for a demon.

Why is there a girl with a cat up there? And why is there a very distressed child down here? Did the girl steal their pet...?]

What are you doing?

Palamedes Sextus | The Locked Tomb | OTA

[verynearlyperfect]

Scenario I.

[When you've spent far too much time being trapped in a room already, being trapped in an entirely new one wasn't all that startling. On the contrary, the chance of scenery was breathtaking! If not a bit inconvenient given the whole tied up with no way out thing. But a seemingly impossible situation was nothing to start freaking out about; and unfortunately to whoever's stuck in the room with Palamedes, they've gotten a rather chatty conversation partner stuck with them.]

Completely sealed off. Constructin must be new, but it's impossible to tell... either they've stopped the flow of thanergy entirely, or I can't read it. [Both options were absolutely terrible and startling news.

But there he is, a scrawny, thin-looking young man wrapped in worn, homey grey-colored robes, large glasses sitting on his nose as he walks around the tiny room, investigating every nook and cranny despite the fact that his hands are still tied behind his back. At least while he's busy talking to himself, he finally notices his current compatriot is awake, when he finally turns his head.]

Ah. Finally awake? Vertigo? Headache? If you can't speak, tap twice if you can understand me.


Scenario II.

[A laptop, a pamphlet, some scare-mongering about monsters, a clinic, a church... Palamedes wasn't necessarily one to get lost easily, but it's more like there were plenty of options to check out, and he had no good starting point. The charity, perhaps? The apartment building would be good, but it's not really a place to start if you didn't live there, he figures.]

Excuse me-- [In the end, he ends up hailing down the nearest person. Or monster. Or whatever! Who is he to judge, really.] --Yes, hi, threatening monster creature, and all that. Can you tell me what you know about this city?


Scenario III.

< MasterWarden >: I would like my psychometric spells back.
< MasterWarden >: Besides the fact that it'd be nice to have my necromancy back, Ryslig has so many unique buildings and such an odd history from what I've been able to gather.
< MasterWarden >: Being able to scry the history of its architecture could reveal so many interesting secrets that the natives seem to have lost to time, or are uninterested in pursuing.
< MasterWarden >: Especially some of those old pre-Fog churches that are still around.
< MasterWarden >: If that doesn't work, then I'd also like a new radio. Mine's broken, and the sound cut out every few hours, anyway.
< MasterWarden >: Also, what is Nattenfest?


Wildcard.

[Contact me at oleseiyah if you wanna work out something else, or just throw around whatever! Warning for potential spoilers!]

III FOR THIRD BABY

[gildedsaint]

[Ianthe is currently cozy in her den, browsing the monster internet as a rodent, as one does. Completely calm. Right up until seeing that username, alongside a mention of psychometry, which makes her sit bolt upright and shift back into her full form so she can type a response as rapidly as possible.]

< sanctumreverentia >: Sixth? is that you?

Pure Vanilla Cookie | Cookie Run: Kingdom | OTA

[purevanillacookie]

SCENARIO ONE

[ There are so many things odd about this scenario, that Pure Vanilla is having a hard time putting it all together. It's not simply the fact he has no memory of being kidnapped. It's also the fact he's feeling very squishy (but not soggy, how truly bizarre), his hands and feet feel odd, and his icing doesn't - well - feel like icing. Even his clothes feel odd on him.

Managing to get himself into a sitting position, he folds his legs and opens his eyes, attempting to call upon his magic. But there's nothing. He's as blind as when his memories were gone. His staff isn't around, no focus for him to see through. He exhales slowly, keeping himself calm, as he tilts his head to listen instead. Eventually he picks up the sound of someone else breathing, and his focus shifts instantly.

Turning his head in the direction he hears it coming from, he speaks quietly, concern coloring his voice. ]

Hello? Can you hear me? Are you all right? Do you require aid?

SCENARIO TWO

[ How he's managed to get this far, Pure Vanilla is quite unsure. Even without his Staff to guide him, without the magic of his Soul Jam, he has somehow made his way to... a very noisy place. The smells are acrid to his nose and cause his eyes to water, quite unlike anything he has smelled before on Earthbread. The noises are loud and disorienting, and leave his head spinning as things screech and the ground vibrates with large things passing by. The chatter of not-Cookies passes by him on all sides, words he seems to innately know by some magic or another, but he recognizes as not being any language he's familiar with.

Tightening his grip on the walking stick some helpful citizen has given him, Pure Vanilla turns his head from side to side, trying to get a sense of the bustle and layout of this place. It's difficult, with sounds overlaying sounds and unfamiliar hard stone under his feet, and he can't help but feel a small thump of dismay in his heart. To be so far away from home and alone... it isn't the first time. But even on his Pilgrimage, the sounds of the blueberry birds and the smell of sweet flowers was familiar.

Steeling himself, he turns to begin moving again, feeling slightly better with his rest to let his head stop swimming. And he promptly smacks right into someone, his free hand going out to steady himself automatically on whomever he ran into. His face instantly turns contrite as he takes a step back and removes his hand. ]

Ah! Please, forgive me, I didn't sense you there! You're not harmed, are you?

SCENARIO THREE

un:purevanilla

Peace is an admirable desire! But in the spirit of the question, I would wish for everyone to see themselves the way I see them. To be proud of even their smallest accomplishments, to find joy and love, in and for themselves. To realize how unique and how lovely they all are, and what great things they are capable of accomplishing!

WILDCARD
(have any other scenario you'd like to hit me up with? just drop it here, i'm good for anything!)

two

[letshangout]

[Mari, for her part, is wandering with an uncertain expression. She's looking around for the clinic when she falls onto her butt due to the impact, and then she looks up at Vanilla.]

Oof!

[When he asks if she's alright, though, she smiles gently. She notes the word sensed and catches on - oh. He probably can't see. Still, she picks herself up.]

I'm okay! A bit mixed-up and nervous because of the circumstances, but that's hardly your fault.

Izumi Hirumo | Princess Nine

[strayingcanary]

Scenario One

[Of course Izumi is afraid. This isn't the Kisaragi School for Girls. She's still wearing her school uniform but the bindings are biting into her muscular arms. Why she was here was obvious: most students at both Kisaragi and the associated boy's academy were children of wealthy people. Sure, there were a few that were on sports scholarships but it was a good guess to assume that anyone wearing the uniform was from a wealthy family.

Add the fact that Izumi was a celebrity in her own right on top of being the daughter of a well known woman? It wasn't hard to assume what happened.

The moment the realization crossed her mind, she bit her cheek. With the spark of pain she let her fear be pushed down. There was no point in panicking.

She was afraid but looking at her sitting proudly against the wall it would be hard to guess.]

You're awake. [She eyes her 'roommate' carefully.] Good... there's some metal near you; kick it over here, will you?

[Izumi, what are you doing?]

Scenario Two

[Every pamphlet is read. Every piece of advice--provided it's said with respect--is noted. She's not sure what to think about any of this but she'll deal with it later. The apartment complex seems to be the first place to meet after--ugh--admitting defeat that she doesn't know where to begin.

But, there is one thing she must start up too. Monster or resident or newcomer it didn't matter to Izumi. She clears her throat.]

Excuse me. Do you know where the sports facilities are here?

[She can run by herself but how can she keep up with her training if she doesn't know where a park suitable for batting or throwing practice is?]

Scenario Three

username: IsolatedPower

New sporting equipment, if I'm forced to answer. I must keep up my training regimen without fail even in the off season. Do keep any sentimental ravings away from me, I have no time for it today.

Wildcard

(Anything else? Let me know!)

three | <mike>

[effusing]

god i kno right. i mean i guess i'd have to ask the christmas fairy to bring football to monster island first but w/e
whats ur sport? even if we're playing different games, its cool to see other athletes around

Vision | MCU | Long time lurker, first time caller...

[maybeamonster]

SCENARIO ONE:

It's a strange sensation, to be woken up by feeling... Cold. There's been times where he's certainly felt that sensation before, but not like this. This was deep and all encompassing and when he tries to get up he'll find himself bound and when he tries to manipulate the density of his hands to slip out of his bindings but finds himself unable to do that as well.

He shifts himself around so that he can at least stand up and get better bearings on his current situation. He finds it hard to see, just one more item on a growing list of frustrations but he does manage to spot the outline of another just in front of him.

"Hello?" He speaks hesitantly feeling more vulnerable than he ever had in the brief period of time he had been in his world. But knowing that this person might be feeling entirely the same way.

SCENARIO TWO:

This is like a city he'd never seen before, not that he was particularly well traveled or anything but the knowledge of this city alluded the stores of information in his mind and when he felt himself searching for more he found it empty. That was something he had never found himself experiencing before.

It seemed like any other city, there were dozens of people. All of which seemed to have something to say. Handing him things, asking questions to which he didn't have the answers it seemed overwhelming. Normally he could block all of this sort of noise out, to be able to quietly collect his thoughts and disengage. But he found himself unable to do that now. It was frustrating and to be perfectly honest obnoxious. People shoved things in his hand and he resisted the urge to shove them back. He was told he needed these things, he found that hard to believe. But he wasn't entirely sure of anything right in this moment.

But confusion and pressure got the better of him and as he he continued to walk through the streets he realised that he stood out like a sore thumb. He'd tried twice now to alter his skin and twice now he's failed. There's a person who seems to have a lot of clothing, she offers him whatever he'd like. It's stated its at no charge and while he thinks of an old saying 'nothing in life is free' he does take something that seems to be more along the line of what people are wearing and that which has a hood so that he can cover himself up somewhat. She states its the least she can do, all things considered.

And as he returns back to the streets feeling confused but at least a little more sheltered he ponders what exactly that means. When he finally seems to escape from the thralls of people and into a quieter area he finally take a look at some of the things that were thrust so dutifully in his hand.

"The Lighthouse?" He questions out loud.

SCENARIO THREE:

It used to be so intuitive, he barely ever had to even actively think about it. To physically type seems strange and though he knows the concept it admittedly is the first time he's actively had to do it. But they'd said this was how he could communicate with a 'community' of sorts and despite never having quite done it like this the concept was not lost on him.

The first step is picking a username. It's a concept that is strange to him. He's only ever had one name. So he picks that.

When it pops up on the screen it's the only thing that seems comforting. At least he hadn't lost that aspect of himself.

VISION has joined the room welcome him.
VISION: I am told this is a place to gather information, perhaps.
VISION: I am, as one might say, new here.

He's still not sure that's something he should admit, but here he is. Admitting it to the universe. It almost feels cathartic.

WILDCARD:

[Pick something previously not mentioned!! We can work together. Discord is best way to reach me, my RP Discord is Sticky#1401]

[[ooc: I've been sort of lurking for a while and decided to just go with it, cause I'm trying to figure out which aspects I can leave in canon wise. I'm working heavily on my app because it's a process as Vision has a lot of complicated shit to yeet, but I'm excited to do so as I like a challenge. Bare with me! Feel free to message me on discord or DMs to work things out. I do not have a plurk sorry. D:]]

2 - places spider in ur pocket

[heyunderoos]

Peter had been mildly lost in his thoughts until Vision's question startles the pooka out of his thoughts.

"Oh- uh, are you looking for the Lighthouse?" Then he looks at Vision, he blinks, once, twice. His whiskers flick with curiosity. Unless a monster can look exactly like Vision, he has a few questions for the other superhero. Though Peter has only really seen him in passing or on TV. The battle at the airport felt like a long time ago for the teenager.

"...Are you Vision?"

lila zacharov | curse workers | returning shade

[gitanes]

one;

[Lila's eyes snap open like a light turning on: nothing, then everything. When she looks at the room around her, it's with a transparently sharp-eyed criticism, pupils spreading to adjust to the light even as her brows draw sharply together, as her mouth shrinks to a flat line while she tallies up.]

[One bed. No windows. Light coming from under the door. Hands tied — rope, not zipties; stupid. Sharp objects — at which her eyes narrow suspiciously. Another person, who her bicolored gaze glances over and dismisses immediately. A possible hindrance, never a help.]

[She doesn't trust the sharp bits of metal. Why would she? Why would someone tie her up and then give her easy means of escape? Answer: they wouldn't. So she sits up, but doesn't stand, doesn't make her way over to the potential tools. Doesn't even look at them, or the other person, again. Instead, she balls herself up into a small crouch, exhales long and slow, and begins the painstaking process of walking her tied arms under her legs and up to her chest.]

[This is frankly just a minor inconvenience. But it's not a good way to start her day, and somebody is going to hear about it.]

two;

[Once upon a time, she would have lost it at the stares, the whispers, the nasty comments behind hands. Not every kind of fear is bad fear; back home, after all, it came with respect. The kind monsters get in Ryslig, it comes with an odd admixture of hatred, disgust, and fascination. She's not into it. She never has been.]

[But she's used to it. More than anything, she finds it tiresome today, boring, especially on top of her joints hurting from getting out of that stupid social experiment. Plus, it's cold. She hasn't felt cold in forever.]

[There are a lot of advantages to being incorporeal, things that she's missing now that she never imagined she would. Don't expect her to talk about them, though. She'll silently and privately resent them instead, and take out her frustration on someone who's in the wrong place at the wrong time.]

[Oh, like this guy — a young man, late teens or early twenties, with dark hair that he tosses back over his shoulder as he passes, scoffing. Like, audibly. She's not sure where this guy learned the concept of scoffing, because he comes really close to just hissing the word scoff! under his breath, but whatever. He pisses her off. He'll do.]

Hey!

[The way she cries out is shrill, sharp, and slightly wobbly at the edges, the telltale sound of a vulnerable girl on the verge of tears. When he stops (because of course he does) and turns (of course he does), looking somewhat taken aback (of course; pathetic), her lip quivers at him, mismatched eyes wide and watery. It takes two tries for her to get the words out.]

Listen — I just need to say— [A sharp, choking inhale; she swallows.] You can say what you want to me. But in a month, I'm going to turn into something different. Something that can walk through walls and climb into bodies and [her voice snaps, hardens, sharpens to knives] pull your soul out through your nose slow enough that you can feel as I eat it.

[A breathless moment. Then her tearful expression shifts, smooths out, smile spreading Cheshire-cat bright. Her eyes are wide, viciously drinking in the terror brewing in the young man's eyes. She can't feed on it, but if she could, she'd be fat and happy right now.]

I can make it hurt. And I know your face now. I can find you. You know shades don't forgive.

[She has more to say, but he's already scrambling into motion, turning on his heel and fleeing down a sidestreet. As the sound of his panicked flight fades from hearing, Lila crosses her arms over her chest and sighs contentedly.]

Little bitch.

three;

zhar-ptitsa: can't wait for somebody to get deeply offended by the world peace comment
zhar-ptitsa: i'm with probably 75% of people who want their old powers back
zhar-ptitsa: flesh body
zhar-ptitsa: i'd say family but i don't trust that this isn't some bullshit monkey's paw situation where asking for it means my misshapen dad lurches out of a hole in the ground to share my darkest secrets with the masses so fuck that
zhar-ptitsa: nice shoes
zhar-ptitsa: and feet to wear them on

wildcard;

[shoot me whatever, i'm open, or pm me at this account to plan something specific.]

1 :)

[luckless]

[Komaeda is second to wake once again, and it's a slow realization as he does. First there was nothingness, consciousness suspended, and then there was a pulse in his ears and darkness that he could physically feel his eyes blink through as they adjusted to it. Did he leave, again? He's too disoriented to process it. Regardless, he's here in this moment, now—and he can hear something in the room with him.

It takes him a moment to turn his head, to angle just right and make out shapes long tucked away into the recesses of his memory. He had only seen this figure a handful of times, too few to really commit to memory, had it not been for the litany of implanted ones within his skull. A whole lifetime of knowing this girl, to accompany all the other memories she flooded his head and heart with.

He feels, all at once, too excited and too scared to breathe. What if this is fake? What if this is just a dream? What if, and this is the worst what if, he makes a mistake, gets too hopeful that it's actually her, and it's not? What if it's just someone who looks like her?

Komaeda's heart thunders in his chest so loud that his pulse is starting to overpower his thoughts. Normally, he wouldn't take a leap like this. He doesn't put his heart on the line, not for anyone... But for her, it's always been different. Quietly, as she shimmies her arms around her legs like the determined survivor she is, he manages to unstick his tongue from the bottom of his mouth.]

...Lila...?

Kobeni Higashiyama | Chainsaw Man | OTA

[vancingqueen]

I. Rope, Room, Stirring
CW: sexual assault implications

[ The {MONSTERS} that {HUMANS} fear the most... are the ones with a few screws loose.

Kobeni wakes up.

She expects to be in a dark room, alone, of course. This is where she'll be spending the rest of her days. It's fine; the only reliable way to get away from the apocalypse outside, anyway. If you step outside, you're dead...

She stirs, and her hands are tied behind her back. Oh, so that's new... probably one of the others is going to take advantage of her, aren't they? Well, it was all going to come back around eventually; her parents had always said, a sex worker or a devil hunter; and here she is, washed up as one and now forced to be the other--

She hears a stirring and her head whips around for the source. Her fingers grope for her knife. ]

E-ehh?! Wh-who's there? [ Stupid, stupid; there's only two people it could be, right? Right?? Then why does that silhouette look wrong... ]

II. Kobeni vs Monsters

[ Kobeni's been thrown to the beasts.

Around every corner, a new monster; and many more humans, looking at her with suspicion. But something's off. The technology isn't right, and everything's way too foggy...

Eventually, she takes aside a kindly old woman (who nevertheless glares reproachfully at Kobeni), and asks her the direction to Public Safety, or where to find the devil hunters. The woman shakes her off and barks something in the negative to her; and now, finally, Kobeni breathes a huge sigh of relief, and relaxes against the wall of a nearby building. ]

Thank goodness... this could've been really bad!!

III. Gift

[ex-safety] well, i guess i've already gotten it. nothing could be worse than having to work for a living
[ex-safety] but if i had to choose a second thing, it'd be nice to be able to go to college
[ex-safety] hey, do they have college here?

IV. Hungry! Hungry! Hungry!
CW: gore

[ It happens suddenly, coming back to the apartments with her meager supply of groceries. Her heart seizes up and she drops; her brown paper bag spills apples all across the sidewalk.

People step around her as they go about their day, wrinkling their noses. "Gross!" "Ugh, what a day." "Typical..." ]

Hungry. [ Kobeni stirs, mumbles it. Of course even fucking dying wouldn't stop her body from needing to function. Of course even in death she can't escape, has to get up and move and work and eat and EVERYTHING. ]

Hungry... hungry... HUNGRY!!! HUNGRY!!! HUNGRY!! [ She launches herself off the ground and stabs her knife through the chest of the nearest individual-- human? Monster? She couldn't care less. But she's laughing and screaming with pain, and her face is morphing before her eyes into a horrible twisted bony snout. ]

iii

[gray_son]

< nightwing >: yeah actually
< nightwing >: an arachne here called triffany opened a university for people to study
< nightwing >: i don't know how much she or her people charge but there's definitely ways to study if you want to

Rosemary Winters | Resident Evil | OTA

[grows_on_me]

2A
It was the strange glances and glares that Rose is more than used to. Freak. Weirdo. She pulls the brim of her hat down over her eyes and just tries to get away from them. New world or not some things just never change. She’s used to slinking away and without her powers now she’s worse than defenseless.

But then other people found her and they started giving her stuff. This is what’s new. First pamphlets than clothes. A radio or something she can’t get a good look at with her hands so full. And now she’s kind of awkwardly trying to carry everything in her arms. She’s looking for apartments or something but she’s passed this sign before so she’s definitely going in circles or something.

She might just bump into you on accident.

“Sorry, sorry-”

2B
Or she might work up the gumption to actually call out to you. Smile strained.

“Hey, um! I’m kind of lost. Can you help me find the…38 apartments?”



3.
<redrose> Other than a way home?
<redrose> I don’t really know. My powers I guess? I’d feel better if I had them.
<redrose> or a rocket launcher.

3- < SPEAKING.IN.TONGUES. >

[seacub]

How strong is the recoil on a rocket launcher?

Aerith Gainsborough | FF7 Remake | OTA

[floraldisclosure]

A.

[Laying on her face on the floor is most definitely not where Aerith last remembers being. Wherever she is, though, she's been here long enough that the concrete beneath her has warmed with her body heat, and her arms - bound behind her, apparently - are starting to ache with the strain of being in an odd position for a lengthy amount of time.

For a moment, before she opens her eyes, she feels dread gnawing a pit in her stomach. It's like she's back in the laboratory again, but... she'd never been treated like this. Enclosed like some animal under observation, sure, but not bound and tossed to the floor. Opening her eyes is at least somewhat of a relief in that aspect - it's clearly not Hojo's laboratory. Or, at least, any part that she recognizes.

Maybe it's a bad dream. Maybe her mind is latching on to a memory and twisting it. But this feels awfully real, for a dream.

Sitting up is a little awkward with her hands bound like they are, but she eventually manages. It's only then that she notices there's someone else in here with her, bound just like she is. Huh.]

Hey there!

[Is it a little more cheerful than the situation calls for? Only a small bit. It's probably a little startling nonetheless.]


B.

[Aerith has made it into Bavan, and it's... something. Reminds her a lot of topside, actually, with all the people and cars and the buildings in good shape and the lack of general slum-ness that she's more comfortable with. The sky is overcast, and it's even snowing a little... It's a sight that once again leaves her stomach feeling like it's tied in knots. At least the sky is broken up by tall buildings, but the open expanse still feels wrong.

Rather than explore the city streets, she's instead taken to one of the parks. With the climate being as it is in Ryslig, the local landscaping professionals have planted flowers for all seasons, and it's the bright splash of blue and white in an otherwise snow-covered flowerbed that attracts her attention. Flowers that grow in snow... She kneels down, lightly tracing the petals with her fingertips.]

Well, hello there! What are you doing out here in the cold?

[But, the longer she looks at it, the more the sudden cheer seems to drain from her face, just a little. The gentle crease in her brow is easy to notice, at the very least, as is the soft, concerned hum.]

Hmmm...


Wildcard.

[Feel free to use this option for something else!]

B

[letshangout]

[Mari is walking through the snow in her usual outfit - her school unfirom, which makes things a little cold. Still, she enjoys the environment for what it is. The parks are particularly nice - she thinks of Basil when she sees a park, and she smiles weakly. Another friend not around...

But she looks up hearing that voice. She's almost going to answer, herself, but then she realizes there's a woman there talking to a flower. She walks over, a bit slowly.]

I'm not sure it has any other place to be.

nate black | vtm oc

[effusing]

i | SCENARIO ONE

[ You wake up to the sounds of exertion. A grunt, and a groan—but there's nothing else, no clattering of metal or tearing of restraints.

With open eyes, it'd be hard to miss the source of the noise. He's tall and broad-shouldered, with just enough healthy bulk to make the small cell feel a little more cramped than it needs to be. Whatever he's been trying to do—there's nothing in his immediate vicinity that would give any particular indication, one way or the other—it has left his face flushed enough that it doesn't redden further when he catches your eye. Instead, a smile flashes across his face, sheepish and innocent. ]

Hey. You doin' okay, man?

[ He addresses you as much whether or not you are, strictly speaking, a man. ]

ii | SCENARIO TWO

[ It's weird to walk around with a heart that beats again. Skin that sweats. It's foggy enough right now that it doesn't feel completely insane to walk around outside without burning to a crisp, but it's still—weird, right? Like no matter which way he turns, he bumps into another alteration that has been undone.

It happens again when he stumbles into the first diner he sees, right off the street. It's got what he'd normally think of as a kind of kitschy retro vibe to it—but everything around here looks like that, so he kind of figures "retro" isn't a word that really applies, in this case. He buckles heavy into one of the stools lining the counter, and when he looks down at its chrome polish, he... sees a face. For the first time in a while, his reflection stares back at him as he flicks a sweaty lock of hair from his forehead. ]

Oh—h, man, I... look like shit.

[ Granted, it's pretty normal to look dirty and disheveled after a jailbreak, but still. The sound that leaves him next is closer to a laugh of relief than anything, though; he bows his head a bit, fingers scrubbing through his hair in a sloppy attempt to fix it into something presentable. While he works, he grins like this is the happiest he's felt in months. ]

iii | SCENARIO THREE (A)

[ the answer comes from someone with the username "mike" ]

real shit answer? a football league. now that i can play again it'd be nice to actually DO that yk?
like american football. dunno if it'd be weird to call it "american" here but w/e.
idk. i'm tryin to make the best of this.

iv | SCENARIO THREE (B)

[ Of course, Nate also scrolls through the other answers people have given. Many of them seem perfectly normal—but, inevitably, many of them are... less so. He doesn't intend to reply to any one of them in particular, but still, he can't help but comment: ]

yall some of these answers r makin me rly worried about ur mental

v | WILDCARD

[ Feel free to hit me up here or @ salroka if you have other ideas! ]

iv <pillowman>

[goryteller]

[Katurian hasn't shared his wish for "Nattensfest" (whatever that is) because talking about his greatest desires in front of a bunch of cannibalistic monsters feels like a stupid fucking thing to do.]

They're not charging by the letter, you know.