TDM: APRIL/MAY

[ryslighelpers]

TDM: APRIL/MAY

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

You wake up from a deep and dreamless sleep to find yourself lying among the ruins of a burnt-out, empty town. Your head aches and your limbs are stiff. The ground here is scrubby with half-grown plants and barren stone, and while there are a few buildings - most notably the large, empty hunting lodge at the center of the town - there is no sign of life.

Almost no sign. Wander around, and you may start to spot others like you, lost among the bones of empty buildings and abandoned firepits. Perhaps you’ll enter the lodge, which is still more or less whole, and find the bloodstains on the wooden walls, the meat hooks waiting empty in the kitchen. Perhaps you’ll discover, among the empty huts, graffiti scrawled in rusty red: TAGE LIVES.

Perhaps, out of the corner of your eye, you might see a flicker of movement; a figure that looks almost, but not quite, human. These figures will not attack you–in fact, if you approach or call out to them, they will quickly flee, vanishing into the ruins–but they watch you from afar, and you can’t quite shake the sense that they’re waiting for something.

Maybe you shouldn’t hang around to find out what.

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> I'm booored. Who wants to play Twenty Questions? It's like… You choose a thing, right? And say you're ready to play, I suppose. And then someone else will ask you twenty yes/no questions to try and guess what the thing is! It HAS to be questions that can be answered with "yes" or "no". Entertain me, network friends!

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

Rosemary LeVeaux Coulter | When Calls the Heart | OTA

[onceplayed]

Scenario One:

This is not Hope Valley. Not in the least.

Unless the town had been hit by some sort of calamity and she was asleep for a hundred years--which, while it would make an excellent drama that she would like to star in, is not something she's keen on experiencing as a real and active thing that is happening in her life.

But apparently it is. Or she's having quite a terrible, indigestion-sourced dream of some kind.

As soon as she finds the nearest person, she'll reach out with a gasp and try to grab their arm.

"Oh, this place is horrible! What's happened?"

Scenario Two:

This place is not much better--well, technically, it's a lot better than a horrid , run-down town with equally horrific rooms, but still.

Those brochures are not comforting nor welcoming.

She adjusts her hair, lifts her skirts, and goes stomping towards the nearest friendly (or even not-so-friendly face) she sees, gesturing angrily with the fistful of brochures in her hand.

"I demand to know the meaning of this!"

Scenario Three:

< AskMaryRose >

Dear Readers,

My name shall remain a mystery for no, but you may call me Mary Rose. I once authored an advice column in my home, a sweet little hamlet, and I thought I should offer my services here as well. So dear readers, if you have some sort of problem, if you need advice, if you have had a tiff with your dearest friend, I will only be too happy to provide my excellent expertise.

Scenario Four: Mer
cw: body horror

She's been here long enough and met enough people (and monsters) that she has accepted the inevitability of it happening.

The only question would be, would she be hideous? Would she still remain as lovely and radiant as she is now?

Rosemary is hurrying home one night when it catches her off-guard. She should have hurried faster, but the rain made her hesitate. It's too late now--there's a cry of surprise and pain as she stumbles on the sidewalk, gloved hands hitting the ground as she loses control of her umbrella in a puddle. Somehow, her legs aren't responding and for a moment she simply doesn't know what's happening, just that she's in pain and that she can't move.

And then it's over, and she's breathing heavily, staring at a iridescent purple fish tail that's sticking out under her long skirts.

...

"Oh, that is a lovely color, I suppose..."

2

[redtapes]

"It's paper."

His smile is forced, like he's trying his best to be friendly despite the circumstances. August turns his head towards the voice's source, gesturing with his own set of pristine, unread pamphlets, the front of which proclaims itself as a questionnaire to help you find out your monster.

"As to the contents - afraid I've no idea. They were that eager to leave I didn't really get to ask them if they'd mind reading it to me. I'm a little useless with print this small, and I'm gathering they haven't made a braille edition."

He lowers the pamphlets to his lap, neatening the pile as he sets it down.

"If it's a joke it feels kinda mean spirited, no?"

3

[nevershutdown]

[It's a challenge, adjusting to this place. Now Lee is as social as it gets but he's also cautious. Arriving here was an ordeal, he still has no idea how he ended up here and all those talks of monsters have him thinking he's stuck in a strange and annoyingly long dream.

At least until he stumbles across the network post and does a couple of double takes, each one accompanied with its own feeling of hope, fear, doubt, excitement. That's... her, isn't it? Is it her? It can only be her. What if it's not her? How to find out?]

Dear Mary Rose,

I was hoping you could give me some advice on married life. Here's the problem: My wife, stunning and lovely as she is, insists on calling me nicknames in front of my workers.

While I love her very much, how can I tell her that her chosen names are a bit... silly?

Cordially,
A dashing businessman

August Ventmore | OC | OTA

[redtapes]

A

[The panic of waking in an unfamiliar place has become an unwelcome companion to August in the last six months. The Zone's twisting, labyrinthine nature had made it uncertain if they'd wake up in the same place they'd pitched camp, and there had been more than one instance where the world had actively twisted around them. But the terror of thinking this might be the Zone once again is only one part of what immediately sends August into spiralling panic.

The other is that he really, really knows he shouldn't be waking up at all.

August sits bolt upright, heart hammering in his chest, breath coming in immediate, desperate breaths.]

No - nonononono-

[He scrambles back until his spine is flush with the wall behind him. He doesn't seem to even notice the peering eyes of the Tagevalgten still lurking in the gloom of Rota's ruins. Even if he did - what good would it do him? The man's clearly already having a breakdown.]

B

[August gets lost nearly immediately. He had felt miles better with clean, warm clothes from the helpful strangers, replacing the stained, ruined scraps he'd arrived in. Better though, was the fact they'd gotten him a replacement white cane, giving him what he needed to safely traverse the unfamiliar city without the very real threat of falling off a kerb into the street and becoming immediately pancaked by one of the loud, old fashioned cars.

I mean. God forbid.

They'd been polite enough not to ask about the fresh scarring, and he'd taken that as a small win. He had to take those where he could. They'd pointed him in the rough general area of the apartments, and he'd decided once he'd walked for a bit, he could at least ask for further directions or guidance to the building itself.

It's when he's reached the end of the list of directions given to him that he looks around as best he can, trying to find someone - anyone - that would give him a hand the last little distance. He registers the vague shape of a person approaching, and gives a brief sigh of relief.]

Excuse me? Hi?

[He offers a tight, toothy smile.]

I'm looking for the 38-8 apartments. Do you think you could direct me to them?

C un: mindblown

[After a few moments, an audio entry is posted in response.]

Twenty questions? Alright. I'm ready to ask or be asked, if anyone else is game.

A

[stickersandstones]

Fuck. Come back... bastard...

[Ermes bends over and scowls, panting heavily. The Tagevalgten know Rota far better than she does and have been using the terrain to stay out of her reach, despite Ermes being a good runner. She just wants some fucking answers. She wants to know where she is and what she's doing here. Is that too much to ask?

Ermes' temporary break lets her hear August's screams. She freezes up, realises what she's hearing and then instinctively runs over to August.]

Ah shit. Oy... Oy, are you okay? Hey... calm down. [Ermes, you can't just ask a man having a breakdown to calm down.]

a :^)

[purificator]

[ There's movement in the rubble nearby--just enough to catch his attention, although Theo can't say for sure if it's simply an animal scavenging for any abandoned scraps still left in Rota or something else. He hasn't been too lucky in his search for new arrivals yet, but he's not willing to convince himself that there just isn't anyone out there at all with his own rough introduction still fresh in mind. Carefully, Theo begins to pick his way through the heaps of scorched bricks and other detritus, heading for the source of the sound; he's wandered toward plenty similar noises, but the Tage are far faster than he is when it comes to navigating. ]
[ Right now, however, August is not. ]

[ If he stops for just a second, he can almost hear a voice, half-muffled though it may be; he picks up the pace, managing to avoid tripping and twisting his ankle in the process by sheer luck. By the time he makes it around the corner, August's backed himself up against the wall, and he winces at the sight of him, stopping in the crumbled gap he'd half-clambered through in order to give him space. ]

Hello--? [ He makes a point not to yell, although he still has to raise his voice a touch to be sure he's heard both over August's general panic and the distance between them. Until he's at least gotten this guy calmed down, Theo isn't about to go charging right up to him and risk making things worse. There's blood on August's clothes, but that didn't necessarily mean it was his-- ] You're, ah-- Are you hurt? Little hard to tell from over here. You are a bit...soaked.
[ He hasn't really thought about what he'll do if August actually is hurt, truthfully, but that's a problem for the future. First things first--help where able. ]

Big Mama | Rise Of The TMNT

[oodlewoodles]

1. A Husk

[Big Mama does not do surprises. She doles out surprises and twists upon those below her, but she herself does not enjoy a surprise.

A yokai of her age and stature deserves control. She has earned it after running the criminal underworld for as long as she has. Awakening in a husk of a city leaves the spider yokai less than happy. Her head aches, her body thrums with a low pain. When she stretches her abilities, she realizes she can't shift to her other form. She's stuck in her much smaller shape.

Irritating. Almost exasperating as it were. She needed to understand what was happening.

She pushes herself to her feet, dusting off her skirts as she eyes her surroundings with a critical eye from behind her glasses. This most certainly isn't the surface world, nor is it the Hidden City. The place is long abandoned, a husk of what it once was. Human built given the way everything is structured.]

Well.

This place could use a bit of a sprucing now, couldn't it?

[Anyone else present will think she's just a cheery purple skinned woman in fine clothes lost as they are.]

3. A little game

[What a delightful way to gather information. Set it as a game and no one feels the need to keep their guard up. Big Mama isn't happy to start over, but, the yokai here do make it quite easy, now don't they?

All she really has to do is play nice and gather what she needs. Starting over isn't her favorite thing, but she is an old yokai. She can handle this much. There is already a criminal element in this place, all she has to do is wrest it from the hands holding onto it.

Simple enough.]


< Toodles >

Ohooho, I do love learning and questions. I've never seen such a splendiferous sort of game before! It is a fantabulous way to learn about each other.

Please do ask me questions, whilst I ask you some as well!

Ta, ta!

< Futuro >

[paradiseprotection]

It has been a long time since I have played a game, so to speak. If I understand correctly, the objective is to guess the 'thing' you are thinking of by narrowing down the possibilities. Let me see.

Are you thinking of an inanimate object?

Ermes Costello | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Part 6 Stone Ocean | Spoiler warning

[stickersandstones]

1) Wake Up! Wake Up!

Ugh... my head. Motherfucker. [You may see a tall woman laying down on the ground, her eyes closed. However, after a moment, she sits up in a fright and frantically looks left and right.]

Where is he? Where is that bastard?

[Ermes grimaces. The woman makes the movement to raise her fists, ready to throw some hands when she stops. There's a long pause as she stares at where her arms should be.

Her arms... from her elbow down, her arms are gone. There are only bloody stumps there.

Ermes screams.]

OH MY GOD! What the ACTUAL FUCK?

---------------

2) < KissKissSmack >

Fuck 20 Questions

Thank fuck these things has an accessibility feature bc I literally cannot write atm

Who is the weird stalker who wants to see us ask questions anyway?

---------------

3) Monster time | Arachne | Gore warning

[It takes some time but Ermes settles into the craziness that is the Ryslig peninsula. However, the people here are kind and someone from the Crowe Clinc told while bandaging her up that she's likely to get her limbs back when her changes begin. Ermes is ready to get her fists back so she can smack a bitch and she tries to steel her nerves.

However, nothing can prepare her for the sheer horror that was a violent transformation. Ermes screams as her spine rips out of her body, doubling in length in a spray of blood and wet tissue. Her spine smacks against the ground and she collapses on the street corner, pained tears in her eyes. Ermes writhes in pain as six growths extend from the exposed spine and extend. The growths look like what a child would draw for a spider's skeleton, without knowing they have any bones.

Flesh bubbles off the bone, like fat off pork, and pumps out to form the abdomen of a spider. The skinless flesh aches as cool air hits it, and Ermes convulses at the influx of new stimuli that assaults her. The blood seeps out all around her and Ermes gives a choked sob as she tries to raise her head and look at the damage.]

...Some bastard has a real sick sense of humour... [No arms and six new legs that don't want to move... someone help her.]

3

[onceplayed]

[Rosemary is having a bad day. She’s dealing with her first changes which has given her a slew of bright red feathers mixed in with her hair, on her arms in what looks like the beginnings of what will become wings, and her feet are fully bird’s talons. She’s mostly upset over the loss of her expensive shoes, but her Victorian-era dress and skirts are unharmed, though the feathers are becoming a bit much.

Still. Not as bad a day as the person she was lucky—or unlucky enough—to come across Ermes right in the middle of her violent changes.]

Oh—oh!

[She might be shielding her eyes a little. Is it over?]

Oh, you poor dear! Are you—no, it would be ridiculous to ask if you’re all right—-

—can you move? Are you still in pain?

Nio Hashiri | Akuma no Riddle

[yuritrash]

one

[ This is wrong. Even as she convinces herself that this is just some kind of training exercise, lightly traversing all of the wreckage of... wherever it is, there's something in the back of her head telling her that this is wrong. She should be meeting with Yuri right now, not... whatever this is. She wouldn't be in a situation like this without orders.

Which means it's something worse.

So she kicks parts of the wreckage to the side, leaning over to peer at it. Then she sees another person in here with her. She waves from a distance, putting on a smile. ]

Hey there! Any idea what this place is? The vibes are way off.

two

[ It's bad manners to not accept help when it's offered, right? So Nio takes some food and some blankets and some pamphlets, and is sort of casually munching on some bread and walking while she reads. ]

No kidding? Little old me's gonna turn into something out of an old American horror movie? Get outta town.

[ If she notices the dirty looks she's getting, she gives absolutely no indication towards them. ]

wildcard

[ Got another idea? Throw it at me! ]

two

[zoomingupthathill]

Oh my- hey, scram! Take your shitty gossip rags and shove 'em!

[ Here comes someone who seems to take offense to the pamphlets—but it's not someone who'll dissuade the idea that Nio's going to turn into a monster. No, the fiery redhead who stomps up to the humans possesses hooves and antlers, short fuzzy fur and a deathly pale complexion.

It's enough to send the small group scattering. ]

Can't keep their noses out of anyone else's business... [ Her eyes flick to Nio properly, grumpy expression still set on her face. ] Hi. Those things are a joke, don't read them.

Karin Miyoshi | Yuuki Yuuna is a Hero | OTA

[nibosshi]

OOC: Voicetesting! Be easy with me. Canon point is right after season 1. Plurk is OddEyes

[1] Creepy Arrival

[ It doesn't take long at all for Karin to realize that she's woken up someplace unfamiliar, and she's immediately springing to her feet... at least she would, if her body didn't immediately rebel against her for moving so quickly when she is, for whatever reason, in no shape to be doing so. ][ Her head spins, her limbs ache, annnnnd down she goes. ]

Ugh, ow...

[ So... be careful getting up, got it. How the heck did she end up like this anyway...? It's not like she did any strenuous exercise lately, and yet even as she stands up more carefully this time, she feels her legs wobble. Did she forget to take her usual vitamins...!? No, that's not possible...

Seriously, though, as she starts to walk around... it's not really surprising that this place gives her the creeps. No sign of life, completely abandoned... it's getting to her if she's being completely honest, and her eyes go wide at sight of bloodstains. ]

I... I gotta get out of here... wherever the hell "here" is...!

[ She doesn't care who "Tage" is and she'd like to keep it that way, so she starts moving faster—until she suddenly spots something moving in the corner of her eye and she promptly grabs the nearest thing that qualifies as a weapon. In this case, it's a rusty pipe. Unfortunately only one but beggars can't be choosers. ]

Who's there!? Show yourselves...!

[ She's a Hero, dang it! Well, not anymore, that was a whole thing... but she WAS a Hero, and she'll kick your ass! ]

[2] Long Way From Shikoku

[ It's... definitely strange, being in a city like this. There's definitely nothing quite like it back home, both in the sense of the architecture and the way people dress, in which Karin is very clearly a fish-out-of-water. Considering what Karin now knows... as unbelievable as it is, she's definitely in a different world.

Plus, as she walks through Bavan, everything just gets... more and more unbelievable. There are monsters everywhere... fortunately the kind of monsters that you would find in a storybook and nothing like the Vertexes that Karin was accustomed to, but still monsters! Plus, among the numerous things she has had shoved into her arms, among them is a series of pamphlets telling her that she's going to become one! For some reason!?

It's hard to process, really, and so she's still in this strange half-state of shock. It's way too real to be a dream... which is the most unfortunate part about this, Karin thinks. If this were just a dream, then all she'd have to do is wake up and she'd be back at home, getting ready to go to school, and continue her peaceful days with the rest of the Hero Club. She'd tell everyone about this surreal nightmare she had and Fuu would probably tell her that she took too many vitamins...

Unfortunately, life has never been fair, and especially not to Heroes. The more Karin quietly eyes the various monsters she sees, the more she starts to imagine what they might've supposedly looked like when they were human... and therefore, the more she realizes that for some, it's actually remarkably easy to imagine using the small remnants of humanity in most of them. ]

Hah... this seriously isn't a dream, huh...? What the heck am I gonna do...

[ Also, she's lost. She's not having a great time. ]

[3] UN: Yoshiteru

Twenty Questions? I mean, uh, sure I guess...

[ Nothing else really better to do in this place. ]

2

[tastefulheroism]

[It's that time. Yuuna wasn't quite physically up to the journey to go meet them directly. The will was there, of course, Yuuna Yuuki never gave up but her legs... she had to make sure she was able to help the newcomers once they arrived in the city. So she's wandering around, looking for people out of place.

She's listening and looking. That voice--

Karin? Karin was--?!

Her legs scream at the sudden rush of speed she uses to practically tackle Karin to the ground in a hug, making sure to keep her claws sheathed so she didn't accidentally scratch her. The idea that she might not look like she was (the scales, the fin-like ears, the gills...) did go through her mind.

At the moment she didn't care.]

Kariiiin-chan! Karin-chan!

[Sorry, she's just. Going to hug you tightly, and yeah. She's tearing up a bit.]

Jean-Paul "Frenchie" DuChamp | Moon Knight Comics

[arcdeduchamp]

2. Strange Travels

[Once he's managed to get out of the dilapidated town (warzone? There wasn't enough debris for him to parse things out-), Frenchie pulls quite the face at all the pamphlets being pushed upon him. And the bulkier laptop. He doesn't have enough hands for this, alongside his makeshift cane. Oh, how he wishes whatever dragged him to this place had brought his actual one along after all the walking he's had to do.]

No, non, I am- I am not some newcomer, I am just- returning from a long venture out of the city, oui? [He looks around for somebody who could potentially uphold his story.] Isn't that right, mon ami-? It's been so long since I've seen you! Ça va?

[The expression on his face as he looks at you can be clearly interpreted as 'please go along with this, I implore you.']

4. A Mechanic's Burden (Lich)

[Frenchie has settled into- some sort of life here, even if it means returning to his roots. Cars are cars an entire world over, just as dishwashers are dishwashers with the same mechanical layouts. He's working on the car of some local man close to the sidewalk, hood propped up as he roots around the engine inside.]

Oh, c'est bon, he has been near the coast. This salt build-up, rusting things away- une tragédie! I would have thought that maintenance would be easier now, not more difficult-

[He isn't wearing gloves. Rust blooms always a minute after his hand brushes against something. He hasn't caught on yet, up until-]

...Quoi? [He looks around for some nearby pedestrian to confirm what he's seeing.] Excuse me, could I borrow you for a moment? [Then, he touches the support propping the hood up.] It's rusting as we speak, yes-?

2

[summonthesuit]

[Steven was just stepping out of the nearby grocery store when the stranger calls for his attention. There's a split second of confusion, but then he spots the laptop. And the pamphlets. And the makeshift cane that's sure to make carrying everything a lot harder. And the very intent local. And the pleading expression on this guy's face.]

Uh- Heeey! Hi bruv! God, it's been ages, hasn't it? [He quickly strides up to the guy to take the pamphlets from him.] Here, you don't need those, do you? Let me handle that. I'll walk you back to your place.

Jeanne Tart | Puella Magi Tart Magica | OTA

[joanofdork]

[ un ]

[ There's a girl in period clothes slinking through the abandoned streets in a manner that indicates she (and ONLY she) thinks she is being Very Stealthy Indeed. Her expression, however, is furrowed, and her gaze is sharp. Jeanne Tart, alias La Pucelle, but "Tart" to her friends, has been suddenly transported to mysterious and foreboding locations before. It has always only meant one thing:

a Witch's Labyrinth!

And where there's a Labyrinth, there are bound to be familiars. So when a shadowy figure rears itself before her in the fog, even though her Soul Gem is not effecting her transformation (and what sort of horrid magic is THAT, which interferes with a soul?!), she grabs up a fallen stick and swings it right at the "assailant". ]

Witch's minion! Give all the people - BACK!!

[ deux ]

Waaah....wha.......ohhhhh....

[ Tart, overwhelmed by the new sights and sounds of the city, staggers into the road. She is promptly honked at by all manner of vehicles, squeaks, and starts bowing to them. ]

I'm sorry!

[ Each. Individually. ]

I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sor--

[ Somebody lays on the horn hard enough she claps her hands over her ears. ]

[ trois ]

< un: pucellemagi >

happens if i press that it made a noise

BWAH

oh

oh it is making letters appear!! when i speak!!!

what a miracle!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Un! “Carrie quit writing tags and go back to work” YOURE NOT THE BOSS OF ME, BRAIN!

[zetsuboy]

Haa—?

[Lock was just minding his own damn business, going around making himself other people’s problem, as he does, when he suddenly found himself being attacked! It was no real challenge to sidestep the branch, of course, given its wielder was hardly hidden and her movements throughly telegraphed. He raises his hands in a placating gesture but smiles in a way that almost seems combative, like he dared her to try again.]

Easy there~ I haven’t taken anybody here.

[The ‘here’ was an important distinction.]

Sunny 🔪 OMORI

[oversleep]

_{CW: Sunny's canon and his character as a whole deals with difficult issues. Please read his warning before tagging.}

ONE.

<sub>[ Another day of waking up (unfortunately) and another day of being unsure of what was real and what wasn't. Bleary, tired eyes open-- not the familiar feeling of of the sun casting it's warm light through his windows. The visual before him is something he hasn't seen before, but after dealing with these hallucinations for four years now, he's become a bit numb to it. The ceiling can turn into spiders and he wouldn't care at this point because he's seen it plenty of times. Stiff limbs and headaches.. also something he deals with on a regular basis. To Sunny, all of this is just.. normal. He had ONE DAY LEFT to finish all of his chores before moving. He should probably rest as much as he can.

Dark, hollow eyes that have no spark in them warily glance around, taking in the spectacle. It felt like he was outside, but he hasn't gone outside in years.. so what was this? He hadn't dreamed.. maybe this was a dream? Ideally, someone would get up and explore.. or try to find someone to help. Sunny takes in a deep and steady belly breath.. and..

... curls back up in a side ways fetal position to go back to sleep. Someone help. ]</sub>

TWO.

<sub>[ His heart is pounding in his chest as he wanders this strange city, chanting to himself that he's still dreaming, none of this real, EVERYTHING WILL BE OKAY. He's too nervous to speak or interact with anyone, but someone does hand him a pamphlet with sympathy before hurrying away. Sunny takes it, eyes bouncing down to it as he continues to walk.. slowly and unsteadily. There were far too many people here and he hasn't interacted with them (or the outside world) in so long.

He reads the text on the information sheet and his skin grows paler than it already is.

You're already a monster, a voice nags.

Anyhow, this small and feeble looking 16 year old is walking straight into the street. Maybe.. rescue him? ]</sub>

THREE.

_{[ Sunny doesn't really know how to play this game and neither does he want to play because.. getting to know people does Something to his social anxiety. He's never been one to tiptoe around how he felt about something once he got the courage to say it, unable to read social cues which results into bluntness. ]}

< un: omori >

you're inferior.

_{[ He's talking.. to the computer. Sunny, pls. You're from circa 2003. It's not like computers were that great in your era either. ]}

↑ ↑ ↓ ↓ ← → ← → B A
_{[ SON, WHAT ARE YOU DOING........ ]}

TwoooOAAAAHH

[polarvoid]

[Basil doesn't want to go back into the city.

After his experience in the Pale- after what he was forced to go through with countless people, only managing to finally escape with Max and Gladion's help- he would much rather avoid Bavan for as long as he can get away with. He knows, logically, that the strange Fog is gone now. Things are "back to normal" as they tend to be towards the end of the month, but he's still feeling unsure. Restless. But there are things in the city he has to (no, wants) to do. He wants to help Horatio with the Community Garden. He wants to walk with Max to the bus stop to see her off to school. And the Gargoyle in him wants to fly, even though he can't yet figure out how to get his wings to work. He wants to keep doing these things.

Which is why he's here. Today he's actually on a trip to the hardware store, not for gardening supplies because you don't need those when your own two hands have become shovels, but to see if there are any new sprouts he can add to his collection he's refurnishing in his bedroom after accidentally torching the previous ones.

He might have missed somebody walking right out into traffic, if they hadn't done it just a foot or two in front of him.]

Wh- hey!

[It's a reflex as Basil moves without thinking, reaching out and grabbing Sunny by the wrist to pull him back just as a car speeds past, honking angrily at him on its way. A monster, maybe, would have survived being struck. This boy...would not have. And with as close of a call as it is, Basil is left with his scales rattling fearfully as he takes a small step back on the sidewalk.]

H-hey, are you o-

[......

He takes another step back. Then another.

No. No, it...it can't be. The Pale, the things he was seeing before...they're all gone now, right?

He's not real. There's no way.

Basil wishes he had Max's music. Kate Bush to drown it all out. To bring him back to reality. Except that this is reality, he just doesn't want to believe it.

Sunny can't be here. Not in this horrible place.]

S......Sunny?

Natalie Marlowe-Feistus - OC

[bunnydoesntlikeyou]

((Possible Content Warnings: Nat's backstory touches on institutionalization, parent death/cancer, foster family systems, religious intolerance, attempted assault, serial murder, hearing voices, occult rituals, and emotional manipulation. Most are not likely to come up in first conversations!! But if ANY of these are No Go for you, I will gladly respect them. Just leave a note in the header.))

1. I Like My Town With A Little Drop Of Poison
[the ruins she wakes up in are decidedly not her cell at St. Dymphna's. Natalie is glad that the day before hadn't been straitjacket day, or she would have had a hell of a time getting to her feet. however, once upright, she discovers something missing, and that overrides any and all other concerns.]

Bunny?!

[worrying at her lower lip, the 30-something young woman with the black-streaked auburn hair in dingy white scrubs and paper slippers starts rummaging through the rubble.]

Love, I know this is a wonderful sort of place for hide and seek, but I really don't think I want to play, right now...!

2. Hand of Fate or Devil's Claws
[it had been a long walk to Bavan in paper slippers. as Natalie limped into the city, she saw a streak of something willows, almost made of shadow, chase a person down an alley. with a little gasp, she rallied herself and limped after. Too slow, by the time she reached them, the strange apparition was gone, and the person lay dead on the ground, the hapless victim of a shade.

Natalie pouted with a huff, squatting beside the corpse.]

If that was you, Bunny, I wish you'd just come out. I need to know what you think we should do ...

[then she notices the corpse's feet... not the exact same size as hers, but not smaller. and not too big.

a couple moments later, she's limping back out onto the street with the dead man's shoes on her feet. only a little blood is soaking through the pale suede. it's a good fashion statement. Natalie smiles, singing a little to herself as she looks around, feeling a little bit better]

Oh, I've got a brand new pair of rollerskates, you've got a brand new key~

3. [MsMarlowe]
Hello, doves. Could someone be a total sweetheart and tell me the best place to buy crystals and gems? Also, herbs. I have an awful lot of work to do.

Ooh, and while I'm at it, are there any ley line crossings about?

2

[redtapes]

Well, at least someone's having a nice time.

[He sounds chipper. Cheerful. A complete contrast with the fact he's still in the clothes he arrived in, soaked in far, far too much blood. It's okay, though. It's all his. The only part of him that's pristinely clean are the sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, shielding his eyes from daylight. He's walking close to the wall, left hand out to touch it and avoid walking out into traffic.]

Sorry to interrupt, but - you wouldn't happen to know where this place is, would you?

Gamora Zen-Whoberi Ben Titan | Marvel's Guardians of the Galaxy

[galaxysdeadliest]

A.
[Well, isn't this just great? So much has just happened, there's so much to think about, and now things have gotten more complicated. Again. The Guardians have just defeated a monster that wanted to eat the entire galaxy (with little to no credit, of flarking course). The team is still trying to work out whether having a 12-year-old join a team of criminals is such a good idea. Peter wants to 'rebrand' and print more business cards, and...

...And now Gamora seems to be on a version of Terra (the technology is more backward than usual), with no Milano in sight, and she's wondering how the flark she ended up here at all. Some of the Terrans are surprisingly accepting of her, and they offer her pamphlets that read like something out of a fantasy story, but they offer vague answers at best and don't appear to be too forthcoming about any real information. And then there are the hostile citizens, and the hostility is... well. It's definitely more like what she expected from Terrans. She doesn't feel too bad about assaulting a couple of them, either. They started it, and she finished it. And no one can say she didn't try to reason with them before kicking their butts.

Now, she's on a street in a city called 'Bavan,' which doesn't sound like any place she's heard of. Not that she's heard of too many Terran cities, but Bavan? That one definitely sounds made up. And she's just been handed another pamphlet -- one about a flying creature called a 'harpy' who sound like a species of amicable bird people she encountered when she was much younger. Her eyes scan the paper quickly, analyzing every word, even though she already knows it's nonsense. Something close to frustration flickers across her face and her arm drops heavily to her side as she exhales loudly and shifts her footing.]

What in Hala's... Can someone start telling me what's going on?!

B. un: gamora
Where's the best place to get noodles here? I haven't found anything that comes close to the ones found on Knowhere.

I'm also very interested in knowing where to find a weapons dealer. I need a sword.

A

[nevershutdown]

I was hoping you would know.

[Sorry, Gamora. Lee is probably the most everyday Terran you're gonna get in the sense that he's outright staring. There's no hostility in it, though, just utter, utter bewilderment at seeing her. He has his own stack of pamphelts stuck under his arm and branding him as a newcomer.

His mouth opens, closes, his face undergoing a myriad of expressions.]

You're green.

[He's perceptive like that.]

Like... really green. Why are you green?

Lee Coulter | When Calls the Heart

[nevershutdown]

one - arrival

[He looks surprisingly dapper for the desolate environment, expensive tailored clothes in bright colors; a blue necktie and a dark vest under the burgundy suit that really stand out against the run-down place.

Now Lee is not unfamiliar with ghost towns - in fact, the buildings and the hunting cabin look strangely familiar. Out on the frontier where he lives, there are several abandoned towns dotting the map. He just can't for the life of him remember how he ended up in one. Was he transporting some timber? Did he have an accident? His head feels fine, except for the shadows he thinks he sees from the corner of his eyes. He was at the mill, he talked with some prospectors, he helped the men with a timber shipment...

When he spots someone in the ruins, he immediately makes his way over there. He approaches, cautiously but relieved to find another person in this eerie place.]

Hello? Hey, over here! I'm sorry, I'm a little lost. [He frowns, taking a look around the abandoned place.] Really. Really lost. Do you... live around here?

[It doesn't look like anyone does or should but he knows that it's not impossible...]


two - city/bar

[If waking up in nightmarish ruins was strange and overwhelming, this town sure is a step up from that. He's been to big cities before but cities from his time. For a guy from the 1900s, it's just a lot.

There is a rustic corner bar that looks close enough to the saloon back home that he enters to flee the noise and lights of the city. He hunkers down at the bar with a shot of whisky, clearly rattled and trying to sort through the impressions of the day.

However, if someone sits close enough he'll acknowledge them with a quick smile and apologetic wave back at the door and the chaotic outside world.]

I gotta say. That's quite the town you've got here.


three - network

[Well, it's close enough to a typewriter that he can figure it out - even though the screen continues to fascinate him and he keeps picking up the laptop and turning it in his hands. Where is it coming from? Where does it go? Amazing.]

Dear recipients,

I must admit it feels strange typing away to myself like this but I have been told other people can read this.

My name is Leland Coulter. I have only recently found my way to this strange place and was hoping that I could impose on your experience. What is the best way to find work around here? I have entered a few stores and asked if they are in need of help. From the responses, I suppose that is not the best way to go on about it.

And if, say, one was about to start a business of their own - I imagine that this monster affair I keep hearing so much about would have an impact on it. Are there any regulations in place that one would have to consider?

What, in your personal opinion, is this place in need of?

I appreciate all and any help.

Cordially,
L. Coulter


four - faerie

[His ears are pointy. So are his fingertips. Which is a problem because he's never been one for hats. Why would he wear a hat, he has great hair! But his ears are doing... that so he has to cover them up. Because they unnerve him and clearly out of sight, out of mind is the way to go here.

It's surprisingly difficult to find a hat that he likes. The stores that he visits stock a lot more caps and beanies and he eyes them with bewilderment and mild disdain. Not his style at all. Gloves on the other hand, gloves are still in business. He even finds a pair of leather ones even if the leather feels and smells a little weird, almost like it's... fake? Oh well. Until he makes some decent money, beggars can't be choosers.

... Except the claws are a lot sharper than he anticipates and the moment he puts them on? The new gloves rip into a fingerless version. And that really wasn't the idea.

So here he is, bartering loudly with the vendor, waving the ripped clothing in his face and gesturing agitatedly.]

Oh, come on! Claws or no claws, they're obviously substandard quality! Why would I wear gloves that immediately come apart like this!

[Are you shopping, too? Great! You know what, let him immediately get you in the middle of this!]

Hey! Help me out here! Look, look at these! Isn't that just the cheapest fabric that you've ever seen? I just bought these!

four rip

[onceplayed]

[The store next door had a lovely selection of dresses. She's delighting in the lengths of the skirts (knee length, it's like a bathing suit!) and the necklines are just gorgeous, she's never seen so many daring designs. Of course, she has to take a little bit of her current situation into consideration--talons make it impossible for her to wear shoes, so that's highly disappointing, and her many feathers make shopping for clothes as much a puzzle as a hunt. The feathers on her arms in particular, she's seen other harpies around and it seems that they will be wings soon. Time to try for some sleeveless blouses, she supposes.

She cheerfully exits the shop with her purchase in tow, clutching a paper shopping bag with a new dress, and stops in the shop next door.

Just to see Lee confronting the shopkeeper.

Oh dear, he seems quite upset about something--she ambles over and--]

What? Did they just rip like that?

[Absolutely unforgivable.]

And you see fit to sell such horrible cheap things to unsuspecting customers? You're no better than someone who sells snake oil!

[She might be getting louder.]

Teresa 'Tree' Gelbman | Happy Death Day

[dejadeath]

A. [CW: mention of death/murder]
[One might be foolish enough to assume that being caught in a time loop would prepare a person for any kind of strange situation. But being forced to relive one's death over and over again, and waking up in Weirdsville are two very different things. And Tree Gelbman isn't a fan of either of them. She's navigating the streets of a place that is apparently called 'Bavan' and she still hasn't found anyone willing to answer her questions. People keep offering her pamphlets and quizzes, but no one wants to tell her how the hell she ended up in this 'Ryslig' place to begin with.

She's holding one such pamphlet in her hand, except it's more like a brochure with at least a dozen pages and a fold-out map of the city with certain locations highlighted. That's helpful. Kind of. She's reading it out aloud, her eyebrows raised, her voice tired and laced with sarcasm.]

"Don't worry, there's a chance you won't grow wings at all." [She shakes her head softly, looking up from the article in her hands.] Wow, that's... reassuring.

B. Waldgeist [CW: heart attack/death]
[Tree now understands what this place is all about, and she is not a fan. Sitting around waiting for your body to twist and change into something monstrous? It is, at best, unnerving and she hates the cold, stomach-twisting anticipation that she feels, waiting for fur to grow and bones to crack and warp. She hates knowing that it's going to inevitably happen, but not knowing when.

When the fog rolls in, she holds her breath and wonders if now is the time. And that thought remains revolving around in her head right up until she feels a sharp pain in her chest, and another pain shooting down her arm. Her vision blurs. The world spins.

She falls.

When she awakens, she's still lying in the park, face planted against the ground. Her body is cold, her skin pale and... God, her head is pounding. She presses fingers against her neck and (to her horror) immediately notes the lack of a pulse. No matter how much she's tried to prepare herself for this moment, it's still horrifying. She's still unnerved, still feels lost as hell as she sits up and leans against the trunk of a tall tree. Her pale hands tremble, reaching up to grab the large brown antlers protruding from her head.]

Because I haven't died enough times already... [She grumbles, releasing her antlers and letting her hands fall to either side of her body.]

The antlers are nice touch this time, though.

B

[bunnydoesntlikeyou]

Pretty.

[the woman has her own new pair of twisting horns: white, tipped with red, as though they've just gored someone - though they're dry. she looks over from the nearby public flower bed she's been examining, and smiles. her teeth are sharp, but it's the only other change so far.]

You could wind them up all ribbons, like a Maypole.

Merlin | Red Shoes and the Seven Dwarfs

[youjustgot]

A. Bavan

[After stealing BORROWING a small wooden crate, a very obvious newcomer decides the best place to plop it down would be obnoxiously in the way of Bavan's busiest foot traffic. Look, it was either this or in the middle of a road, and to be quite honest?? Not sure how much he trusts cars.

(Just kidding, he doesn't. At all.)

But it's fine, because he WANTS people to notice him. It doesn't take a genius to figure out something is amiss in these parts, especially after crawling out that...weird, obviously very cursed empty town. So Merlin steps up on his makeshift pedestal, throws his arms open wide like a jackass, and proceeds to let the public know Everything's Okay Now™.]

Good people of, um...actually- [Oh, wait, shit, where even is this? Certainly no where he's ever been before. Like, duh, obviously? The monsters would all be cleared up by now. Looking around from his perch, Merlin plucks one of the familiar pamphlets from a passerby and glances its text once again as quickly as he can.] "Bavan?" ...Very well. Good people of Bavan!

[AGGRESSIVELY TOSSES PAMPHLET OVER HIS SHOULDER BEFORE HE CONTINUES.]

Soon, all of your monster ridden days will be far behind you, for I, Merlin, shall make sure that each and every one of them will— And why are you all looking at me like that?

[Instead of the admiration, relief, or even small glimmers of hope he's become accustomed to, Merlin finds himself only greeted to looks of annoyance, some even pity. It's only until someone's had enough and knocks him out of the way, causing him to stumble onto the sidewalk and become just another face in the crowd.

Alright, rude.]

Well forgive me for trying to help. [He mutters under his breath as he dusts himself off.] No no, don't worry about me. It isn't as though I already had to put up with your shadow creatures...

B. Network

< merlinofcourse >

I'm not so sure we should be playing games at a time like this. Wouldn't you say there are much more pressing matters to attend to? Such as...I don't know, the whole CURSED PENNISULA THING?

[A pause before another quick message appears soon after.]

Besides, none of you will ever guess what I'm thinking of.

[The smiley face is heavily implied.]

<psydekick>

[missleadingquestions]

cursed peninsula is old news!!!

so

are you thinking of an animal??

Aunamee | Original Character

[marcato]

scenario one.

[Someone has set a fire in the lodge's fireplace. The flames crackle and curl, reaching upwards and outwards, lapping at its confinement like a desperate animal. Trapped.

Perhaps you see the black smoke rising in the distance. Or perhaps you're already in the lodge and you smell the sweet pine smell of pitch wood. Maybe it makes your nose wrinkle. Or maybe it smells like Christmas time. Only on fire.

Aunamee watches the flames, holding bits and pieces of wood in his human hands. He's been feeding it, now and again. Nursing it like a child.]

Tage is alive.

[He speaks without turning around, his lips cracking into a wry smile.]

But she's not living. You may think it's a meaningless distinction, dear stranger, but I assure you, it isn't. It's the difference between being a man and an anemone.

[He extends his arm, offering forward a handful of the pitch wood. It's rotten, and it separates from itself as easy as wood chips. It would make wonderful fuel for the fire.]

Go ahead. Feed it.

wildcard

[Just one prompt for now, but I'm open to others! Feel free to hit me at dendrite if you have something else in mind!]

[redtapes]

No, thank you. I'm sure you're doing just wonderfully at it yourself, if the heat's anything to go by.

[He's not quite looking at Aunamee, preferring to avoid the risk of looking directly at the fire even with the sunglasses he wears to protect what little vision he has firmly in place.]

I'll admit I have no familiarity with who Tage is, but I'll take your word for it. I can't exactly criticise anyone for how alive they are, really.

Eridanus Sungazer | Original Character

[icy_veins]

Two

[It's been too many moons since the peninsula has been graced with the pleasure that is Eridanus Sungazer, and just as soon as he'd risen from his overlong dirt-nap in Rota, has he skulked his way back to Bavan on a mission.

It would be impossible to not notice his own changes—or rather, lack thereof. Without his hands and visage smothered with opal, he feels somehow both too exposed and blissfully free. That does mean, however, that because he looks like his normal, elven self, that the good samaritans of the city have taken to plaguing him with their foul brochures and prying questions. (A) Perhaps you spot him, trying to shake off an over-zealous human who's latched themselves to him. Don't wait too long to intervene, as he seems to be reaching for the sword at his hip faster than his insistence to unhand him is being received by the helpful humans.

(B) Or perhaps you're stopped by him, instead. Eridanus might just find the nearest monster her can, putting his hand on their shoulder and spinning them about without a care for rudeness before making a weird... Stroking-like gesture with his hands.]

You, there! Fetch me one of those meat-filled tubes. Extra peppers, mind you, and make it snappy.

[Demanding, isn't he?]

Wildcard

[Feel free to throw anything at me! If you'd like to discuss anything, I'm reachable at megagaytm!]

A eridanus my beloved

[terribibble]

[Fiddleford McGucket is not at all a stranger to the strange sensation that he has seen something before coupled with a complete lack of recognition. Deja vu is kind of inevitable for him, more than most, and on top of that he's not great with names or faces. This is all to say he spends a solid five minutes squinting from across the street before the familiarity clicks. He never saw Eridanus not smothered with opal. He has to go by the sharp nose, the long hair, the particular sour expression. Those are the familiar bits.

He probably would have squinted for another five minutes all the same if it weren't for that sword. He flops a loop of his tail between Eridanus and the 'helpful' humans, pulling them backward.]

Hey now. Don't stab folks in broad daylight, that's just asking for trouble.

Robert E. O. Speedwagon | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Phantom Blood (Re-app send help) | OTA

[speedweed]

One

Waking up with a pounding headache and limbs heavy? That sounds like a mostly normal time to him. Though what is not the usual is the feeling of rubble underneath him, the cold and hard ground absolutely not where he had gone to sleep the night previously. A low groan slips past his lips as he moves to sit up, then to slowly stand, balance somewhat off. Off and yet... still familiar and easy enough to slip back into. He blinks as he notices his field of view is also a little different, shorter than what he was used to.

"... Oh you have to be bloody well kidding me," he mutters, hands immediately shooting up to his head, finding the familiar checkered top hat still upon his head but finding the golden furred rabbit ears. Ah, of course.

Of course he'd end up here. Again. As a damn rabbit once more.

"It could always be worse, Robert." Can it, though, can it really?

Two

Ah, yes, the familiar sights and sounds of the city he'd been living in for so long. He's vaguely curious to know if some people are still here, if places and things still exist. How long has it been since he was last here?

Which might be why he looks a little out of place, merely staring at the sky on the sidewalk, still very much looking the pooka part as if he'd never left. He certainly stands out against the darker colors around him, but he's never really been bothered about standing out. At least not anymore.

Three

[UN: Speedwagon]
So how do you handle having left and come back as if nothing ever happened? I don't... recall having remembered any of this place the first time I was here when I ended up back home. But time has very clearly passed since I was last here.

It's all very... strange and throwing me off, if I were to be honest. But I can say that it feels a little... nice? to be back to the monster I was before. Familiar, if that makes sense.

shoyo hinata | haikyuu!!

[jumpie]

SCENARIO 1 (CW FOR POSSIBLE EMETO)

[ none of this is terrifying in the slightest. nope! not one bit. surely he’s dreaming, and shōyō is simple enough to jump to the conclusion that is was nothing but. he may have a courageous streak when it came to decision making, but horror? he couldn’t sleep for weeks after watching the ring. an empty, eerie town only reminds him of “quiet mountain” or whatever silent hill rip off he has to revert his knowledge to. shoyo is jumpy and jittery at best, prone to hide behind his much taller upperclassmen than trudging around alone.

it’s when he sees the human-like figure that runs from him does his entire gut ice over. oh, god. here we go. ghosts? he can’t with ghosts.

it’s then that he clenches his belly, cringes and makes a beeline for the opposite direction. public sanitary stations. come on. he’s going to be sick and isn’t sure which way it was going to be beyond what he needed: ]

Bathroombathroombathroombathroom—

SCENARIO 2

[ shoyo can vouch: most, if not all the people he’s asked has treated him poorly. assholes! but he rarely says so outlays, he can’t muster the disrespect when it comes to elders and adults. he’s direct enough to ask (or get verbally upset) when it comes to people who look like teenagers or his own age. it’s just too bad that his small stature really makes you think he’s way younger than that.

to make matters worse, a gang of teens probably in their senior and junior years of high school decide it proper and correct of them to corner and shepherd this orange haired boy into plenty of unwatched nooks and crannies. before shoyo could understand what was fully happening beyond the faux idea of aid, support and safety in numbers . . .

well, they are safe in numbers. safe from things like you. if intervention isn’t had, shoyo is going to take even more of a horrible ass-whooping. ]

SCENARIO 3

UN: KABOOSH
where’s the bus stop
air port
199
???????????????????

2

[worldisyours]

[Rindo's walking down the street, making his way to the bus stop to head back home, when he hears a commotion in some side alley. He takes a peek as he walks by. The sight of the boy with bright orange hair, so obviously out of place with his modern clothes and cornered by a group of hostile Bavanites, paints a very clear picture. That's almost definitely a newbie.

…Much as he'd rather not get involved in that mess, he's well aware that if he doesn't intervene, this is going to end badly. He has no intent to actually hurt these humans, just scare them off. But alas, as a Nymph, he's not exactly the most intimidating-looking monster around—he looks like a green human with flowers in his hair and leaves growing from his body. At least his sharp black claws, fangs and roots (unusually shaped like bird feet) still mark him as a potential threat.

As do his three back vines, which he extends out as far as they'll go, like an animal trying to make himself appear bigger in a confrontation. One of them hits the ground, whip-like, making a sharp noise that catches the teens' attention. Their eyes on him, Rindo flashes fangs and claws.]

Leave him alone if you know what's good for you.

[…And of course it's enough. They scramble past Rindo, practically tripping over themselves in their haste to flee—all bark and no bite, as expected. Easy to target confused new arrivals who can't defend themselves, not so easy to deal with a monster in the flesh.

Once he's sure they've actually left (sadly can't rely on nearby plants to warn him about people approaching, what with the lack of vegetation in these parts of Bavan), Rindo retracts two of his vines. The lowest one stays partially out, like a tail, as he approaches the boy.]

Hey… You okay?

Saul Goodman/ Jimmy McGill Test Drive

[jaybughive]

SCENARIO 1: We're Not in Albuquerque Anymore..

[Saul Goodman woke up to the smell of thick smoke. He coughed at first and tried to move his body to a sitting position. He groaned as his stiff limbs ached in protest.]
[He got up, brushing himself off and began to wonder around the ruins. Maybe he could find someone who know just what the hell was going on here.]
[Almost everyone he saw looked as lost as he did. He decided asking them for help would prove useless.]
[He walked past huts, likely belonging to all those lost people. Among these huts there was a message scrawled in a rust-red substance. "Tage Lives."]

Who the Hell is "Tage?"

[He asked out loud to no one. This was unsettling to Saul and made him more anxious as he stared at the graffiti. It was then he noticed a shadowy form lurking out of the corner of his eye. He bolted running behind one of the huts.]
[Panting, he peeked around the side to see if the thing was chasing him or decided to leave him be.]

SCENARIO 2: A...Welcome

[Saul Goodman stumbled into town as he wondered aimlessly. This place was much more lively than the decimated city he just emerged from. Honking horn, people bustling about their day.]
[It didn't feel very welcoming. Honestly, Saul wasn't expecting a warm welcome but the people were treating him oddly. Some people gave the man harsh glares and other simply hurried out of his way after one glance.]
[He passed a group of people and a lady shoved a fresh pair of clothes into his arms.]

Hey, I really don't need this.

[He tries to protest but the woman refuses to take the clothes. One person shoves a laptop in his hands and another gives him a pamphlet titled: "What To Expect When You're Expecting (To Turn Into A Monster)”]
[Saul was confused and wanted to ask questions but the people hurried away too quickly. He shrugged and continued his walk through the city.]

SCENARIO 3: 20 Questions

[Saul's knees were burning for a break from all this walking so he found an alleyway to stop in. He set the new clothes and pamphlet beside him and sat behind a dumpster as he opened this laptop to see what was on it.]
[As he opened it, the keyboard lit up and the screen flashed a question.]

Name?

'Saul Goodman'

Username?

'Number 2 Lawyer'

[Saul chuckled to himself. He was thinking of Kim. He missed her a lot these days... A blue box appeared on the screen.]

'WELCOME TO RSDOS.
PRESS F1 TO COMPOSE POST.

*** TODAY’S TOP POST ***

018.07.154.55 I'm booored. Who wants to play Twenty Questions? It's like… You choose a thing, right? And say you're ready to play, I suppose. And then someone else will ask you twenty yes/no questions to try and guess what the thing is! It HAS to be questions that can be answered with "yes" or "no".

Entertain me, network friends!'


SCENARIO 4: Transformation

[Saul felt sick. Nothing he could eat was filling him. It all tasted like ash to him. He craved something...different. He walked passed the window of the small apartment he found where sunlight was peeking in. He felt like he was on fire. His skin cracked and sizzled until he jumped out of the sun.]

What the hell..

[He whispered in shock looking to his hand. He watched the skin mend itself slowly. He began to shake when a massive headache hit him like a truck along with the worst wave of nausea he had ever experienced. It was all overwhelming for him.]
[He crumpled to the floor on his hands and knees. His eyes widened in fear and tears blurred his vision as he saw blood drip from his mouth and onto the floor. His teeth began falling out as fangs pushed in. His fingernails turned to pearly claws as they dug into the floorboards trying to grit through all of the intense pain. His whole body ached and burned. Breathing was even painful. Then it all went black..]

[Saul woke up hours later. It was dark outside. Saul stumbled to his feet to the bathroom. He should probably clean all of this blood off of his face and his clothes.]
[He looked a himself in the mirror. He was deathly pale. Like a corpse. He opened his mouth and saw fangs. His veins were more prominent around his, now glowing pink, eyes. He was starving. He craved something thick, red... Blood. He ripped the blood off his face and changed his clothes before he headed into town. Perhaps to find the people who gave him the monster pamphlet and ask them what the hell was happening to him.]

[He could hear the heartbeats of everyone around him. His stomach growled loudly. He was so hungry and suddenly he couldn't stop himself.]
[With speed and strength beyond what he was capable of before, he grabbed a man twice his size and shoved him against the wall in an alleyway. He saw the man's arteries. How they were pulsating with what he craved.]
[His fangs elongate and he bite into the man with ease and drank him dry until he could not hear his thundering heartbeat.]
[He dropped the man once finished. His eyes dimmed and veins disappeared around his eyes. He almost looked normal despite the fangs and long clawed hands. His mind cleared and he gasped, looking down at what he had done.]

Oh God, I really am a blood-sucking lawyer

41st Shin Yuseung | Omniscient Reader | ota

[literaldisaster]

[ Scenario 1.

She doesn't spend too long looking around, really. A good few moments after waking up are spent staring at her hands, as if she did not expect them to be there in the first place, before she pushes her aching body up to its feet.

The creeping shades are noticed nearly immediately, raising hair along her neck; she only vaguely pursues them, calls to them once or twice. Frustrating enough, when they seem intent on avoiding her, and she doesn't recognize this place from any of her memories.

So when she finds someone that looks solid-- you, perhaps-- she immediately lunges to scruff them with a rough grab and shocking strength. ]

You. Tell me what I want to know.




[ Scenario 3. ]

< beastlord >

Twenty questions...? I guess it's as good a way to get information as any.

1

[truthliesinspace]

[Why is Kaito here?? Who knows, don't worry about it!! But it's daytime so he looks totally human despite being a werewolf--which means she can gank him around like a ragdoll. He gets tugged forward with a yelp, and he's quick to wave a hand, flailing to signal he comes in peace.]

--woah, woah, easy there! I mean I don't mind getting pulled around by someone with that build, but I'm here to help!

Valravn 03 | IMAGE COMICS PRESENTS: VALRAVN | ( actually an OC )

[grittyreboot]

Scenario One
Valravn is the third of its cohort. Forbidding. Burly. Merciless. But, also, like, reliably able to switch it off when it's not time to be totally aggro all the time. The truth is that people want you to be aggro all the time, gritting teeth, scary boots BIG gun, that sort of thing, but if you do that all the time you'll burn out, and it is important to keep a work-life balance. Can you have a work-life balance when you are a corpse that assassinates vampires for a shadowy governmental black ops organization? It doesn't ask any more who it was before it volunteered its corpse to the government. That's key. That is a key to the mental health portion of the situation, you can't go asking questions they're not going to answer, you'll go nuts. It just hunts monsters. Asking questions feels very bad and obeying feels nice. Its handlers that reanimated it are its first memories. Director Black is its mom. It is not supposed to call her mom, so it just does that inside of its own head. She is happy with Valravn when it doesn't ask questions, and that also feels nice.

Anyway, sometimes you show up in random places, and Valravn doesn't ask questions about that, either. There's blood on the walls. Valravn scrapes a sample of it with its taloned gloves and opens the metal beak of its helmet to bring the flake up to its wired-shut lips. There's just enough room to flick its tongue out for a taste. Hm.

This tastes very bad. It is supposed to be able to track its targets eternally once it has tasted their blood. Mostly, if there is a large amount of blood, it is coming from the victim of the situation, though, so more often than not Valravn just tracks them eternally for like 6 minutes and then calls 911 from a payphone. The tracking is not happening this time. Only the bad taste is happening.

A figure that seems not quite human passes into its periphery. It turns its head, its beak clacking shut. It locks onto the target. It begins pursuit on foot. The target is fast, and Valravn's body is registering sensations it does not have words for, but that it tentatively classifies as Ouch and Bad. It is going to ignore this, because there's an off-chance that if it catches that figure it will get to kill a monster, which is its favorite thing ever.

Scenario Two
A huge, enormous person in a black tattered cape, a black cowl, a black mask, black body armor, and empty holsters for about 45 different guns is resisting stringently having its helmet removed by a teeny tiny old lady. It looks wildly out of place in broad daylight in a civilian street - this is a person that belongs on a rainy rooftop, or in a grungy alleyway after nightfall, surrounded by blood and broken glass and brokener bodies. It isn't making a sound, or touching the woman who is trying to take its mask off - in fact, it is trying very hard not to touch her, just dodging with her while its hands make nervous, distressed gestures.

If you know any American Sign Language, it is saying this:

No. No thanks. I am not authorized to surrender this. No. Please don't. Please don't. Please don't.

Later on, it actually does find someone that knows sign, and its gestures are sedately calm with the lack of visible facial expression. You seem to have some misconceptions about my construction. I will not become a monster. I am -

It makes a sign that doesn't exist on any other world: like vampire, with two fingers tapped to the neck, but harshly jumping away after the tap, as if the thing with the fangs is repelled and repulsed.

I hunt creatures of the night to protect humanity from the flood of zombies and demons that want to destroy the world.

I am a professional.

Someone prods it in the butt with a pitchfork. It doesn't even jump, just slowly turns its head over as if incredibly disappointed in the behavior.

Scenario Three
vmdlod,,vjvmgndjfngjdmvgjdnf

...

fjkfkvmdjvndhfdlsocmsi

...

le tte errbutton s MONSTERS TURN YOURSELF IN TO THE POLICE TURN MONSTERS YOURSELF IN TO THE POLICE MONSTERS TURN YOURSELF IN TO THE POLICE

THE WELL OF WATER FROM WHICH WE DRAW IS THE LAW AND THE LAW IS WHAT SEPARATES US FROM THE BEASTS AND ALL THINGS MUST FOLLOW LAW THE PLANTS THE ANIMALS AND THE MEN AND THE MONSTERS

THE SUN STARES DOWN MINDLESS ON THE ONLY THING WITH WORTH IN THE UNIVERSE WHICH IS MAN AND HIS LAWS FROM WHICH THE ORE OF CHAOS IS FORGED INTO THE STEEL OF LAW

THE LAW IS A KNIFE AND THE LAW WILL CUT THE SICKNESS FROM THE BODY

TURN YOURSELF INTO THE POLICE AND DO NOT HARM HUMANS

END TRANSMSSION

Scenario Four (CONTENT WARNINGS: ATTEMPTED SUICIDE, BLOOD, EMETO)
It drops to its knees and forces its fingers into its own throat.

The beaked helmet opens and opens and opens in strings and strands of metal and blood. Red retches out of its open beak as the wires holding its jaw shut pop one by one.

It hears Director Black's voice in its head, based on what she is most likely to have advised in this scenario: Very good, Valravn. You can't become one of them. It is better to die. It hears her again, based on something she is not likely to have said, but that, in its last moments Valravn can permit itself to wish she had said: I am so proud of you.

It heaves, like a cat, or like an owl coughing up a pellet. A coin drops in a splatter of red out of its mouth, dings onto the cobblestones. The coin, in theory, contains its soul.

It drops to the ground, two hundred pounds of supersoldier murder machine, and shudders weakly. It does not die immediately - why? Its coin is gone. It should be dying. It should.

The transformation continues. It can only hope that the blood loss will kill it, before it succumbs.

There is a faint, sniffling from under the helmet, and its broad, caped back shakes as its breath hitches. It curls up tighter, wraps its cape around itself. The coin's face wicks clean: a scratched silver dollar, eagle-side up.