Monsters

[animen]

the monster meme Darkness falls across the land; the midnight hour is close at hand... And whosoever shall be found Without the soul for getting down Must stand and face the hounds of hell And rot inside a corpse's shell Michael Jackson's Thriller Who doesn't love a good monster? How you go about this meme is entirely up to you. Your character can go full on beast mode, or we can see a vampire who looks as normal as you or me. Looks can be whatever, so don't feel as if you have to follow the classic tropes [unless you want to]! Mix-and-match prompts, roll the dice, create a totally new monsterized version of your character, and live your best October life. — comment with your character + prefs + what kind of monster you'd like to see your character turn into. —cause chaos.

Whenever...

1. the full moon rises,


2. the clock strikes midnight,


3. that time of the month begins,


4. you lose control of your emotions,


5. you see someone in danger,


6. you want it to happen,


7. you find yourself acting selfishly,


8. some trigger that you decide comes to fruition,

you turn into a(n)...

1. werewolf, complete with shedding fur and pack dynamics, if that's your thing.


2. vampire, which makes looking in the mirror to get ready for the day impossible.


3. kelpie, a fan favorite for all the former horse girls out there.


4. ghost, and it this new social media trend of being 'ghosted' has got nothing on the real thing.


5. merperson, and you're really tired of hearing fish puns.


6. fae, with Tinkerbell representing your entire species.


7. alien, or something equally out of this world.


8. dryad, and everyone loves a cool, nature-based creature!


9. naga, and, no, snake-charming will not work on you.


10. angel, with a halo that stays on mostly straight.


11. kraken, which isn't the death sentence it used to be given how many people love their tentacle creatures.


12. arachne, which is it's own kind of nightmare for those who fear spiders.


13. demon, and you don't spend as much time hanging around on strangers' shoulders as people think.


14. a different creature, and that only makes life harder for you.

This has been the case ever since...

1. you were a child.


2. you turned eighteen.


3. you disobeyed that one golden rule.


4. you were bitten by that creature.


5. you were cursed.


6. today. Ever since today. This is some new shit.


7. you were killed and brought back to life in this new form.


8. this was foretold in a vision.


9. you have no idea; this just sort of happened.


10. you discovered that you're the chosen one.


11. some other AU backstory you feel like dreaming up.

And, to make matters worse,

1. transformation is an incredibly difficult/painful/awkward process.


2. you have a taste for human flesh/blood.


3. this is the first time that anything like this has ever happened, and you're so confused and concerned!


4. the wrong person has spotted you in this monstrous form.


5. you've fallen in love with a human.


6. you've fallen in love with a rival monster species.


7. you're stuck this way until true love's kiss breaks the spell.


8. you're stuck this way until you learn how to be a good person.


9. a new monster superpower is making life difficult for you.


10. you're having trouble blending in.


11. you can only come out at night/during the day.


12. you have to fulfill someone's wish in order to change back into a human.


13. certain foods make you extremely ill.


14. you're horny, but monstrously so.


15. you're having trouble controlling your monstrous inclinations.


16. some different sort of trouble.

Comments

Tessa | Tales of Legendia OC | OTA

[merinesexual]

[Two flavors! The first is mermaid who's been one since birth, and the transformation typically triggers at will but will emerge when she has no energy to maintain a human form, and is likely a matter of the wrong person managed to spot her in full fishy tail form glory.

The second flavor is her being a dhamphir that's been struggling to keep a low-profile for as long as she can, the vampiric changes of needing to drink blood starting either at 18 or 'today', and I'm open to most 'to make matters worse' prompts.]

Arthur Morgan - Red Dead Redemption II - OTA20+

[unshakencowboah]

[He can be a werewolf, werebear, or vampire, discuss otherwise.]

lon'qu | fire emblem | m/m

[lonqute]

[ i'm very interested in a 'you're having trouble controlling your monstrous inclinations' scenario for him, something where he's unused to being a monster. hit me up if you want to plot something out. ]

b.b. hood | darkstalkers

[dokkans]

[ can au in any way, but let's stick away from "make matters worse 5, 6, 14", shall we? ]

Motorcycle Boy | Rumble Fish

[velocette]

Being a ghost is not so different from his old life, except that now no one listens to him and follows him into idiotic wars.

It's nice at first, being able to simply observe. A thought and--bam--he's in a new place, because the Motorcyle Boy was always tied to observations and never to a specific place. He can see the entire world now and it's...underwhelming.

People are people, here and there and everywhere.

He sits quietly on a bench, radiating cold and emptiness, and watches people pass. They shiver when they reach his bench and hurry on. Sometimes he follows them, making them feel the chill all the way to their warm apartments.

Sometimes he follows them even farther than that. Sometimes he stays, knocking things around, making a mess, terrifying them until they call priests. He's not afraid of priests; he thinks they're funny. But his goal is never to stay anyway, so he leaves, on to the next person, the next haunt.

[minuteofangle]

The sun feels good on his skin today. Gabe tips his head back, breathing in the air, and then lets it go. His tech's working like a dream today and it's one of the few times when he's not on assignment or recovering from assignment, just out on his own terms. Enjoying the sun.

But then there's a cold spot. Almost icy.

Gabe stills, reaching his hand out and trailing his fingers over the bench. That's interesting.

[velocette]

Sometimes people get curious. Not often; usually they just move away.

He notes with a little smirk that the man's hand is going through his leg, and he moves closer, touches the man's face and jaw, bringing icy fingers across his neck.

[minuteofangle]

The cold feeling persists—and deepens. It flickers across his face almost like a caress, an unbidden intimacy. He stiffens, cycling his tech, but there’s no one there.

Strange.

Gabe frowns, tilting his head. Trying to understand. But he doesn’t move away.

[velocette]

There hadn't been any particular thought behind that touch. People react different ways to cold and he's always curious to see what those ways are.

People don't stay in it though.

"Is this refreshing for you?" he wonders. Is the day hot? He cant' tell anymore. Maybe this is a welcome touch.

[minuteofangle]

There's a voice. A man's, sounding almost thoughtful. And yet there's no one in front of him.

Unless his tech is glitching.

Gabe goes very still. He doesn't reach for the knife hidden up his sleeve, but he thinks about it. "What?"

[velocette]

"Can you hear me?"

He hasn't minded not being heard or seen. It's given him plenty of time to people watch which was always all he ever really felt like doing anyway.

"I think it's been years since anyone's heard me."

[minuteofangle]

That's - odd. For a moment, Gabe thinks somebody's found a way to get a signal directly into his tech. Maybe by accident. But the cold spot -

Odd. This is all very fucking odd.

"I can hear you," he agrees. "Where are you?"

[velocette]

He sounds nothing but amused and intrigued. "I'm right next to you. Your hand is resting in my femur. Which feels...strange. Sort of a buzz, like the hum of a wasp's wings. Tell me,"

He brushes a finger across Gabe's face, "Can you feel that?"

[minuteofangle]

"Your femur," Gabe repeats. He takes his hand away gingerly. And he stiffens at the touch that trails across his cheek. Gentle, but cool.

He shivers.

"Like lying on cold grass in the morning. In the water."

[velocette]

"Relax into it," is his cool suggestion, stroking Gabe's cheek again. "Just enjoy it. Most people flee. You haven't. Why?"

[ depressed single in your area ]

[triggered]

[knottedbowtie]

[ Though his time spent out around the actual town itself was more limited these days, Gil still has his ways of collecting local gossip.

His father employs a modest staff of 8 to maintain their home, and Gil makes a point of keeping in the good graces of (nearly) all of them — enough so to have an easier time either soliciting the sort of chit-chat that would give him some semblance of entertainment for a meager afternoon. Most days required a bit of sweet talk, but this morning had needed no prompting from the kitchen maid who was all too eager to unload her ill-gotten whisperings: Have you heard? They got a Banisher shown up to deal with the ghosts in the mine!

A Banisher. He'd heard of them, first in the occasional whisper in his youth, then more commonly in his boarding school in Pittsburgh where such titillating and provocative topics were policed less frequently. Though he'd met an exorcist once on business from the Church, he'd never met a Banisher; they were rare in the city, more prone to dispatch to towns and settlements more like the one he'd grown up in. The spike of excitement he'd gotten at the word would have been a sad sign of how little entertainment he'd had in recent months if he weren't so wrapped up in the moment... Especially when he discovered not an hour later that he seemed to have learned of it before his father, whose expression turned quite dour when he was advised of the arrival by the butler. Now that was exciting. It took every mote of control Gil had to maintain an air of surprise when the butler was sent to fetch him not long after, though his father's declaration upon his arrival in his office was unexpected enough that the younger man didn't have to fake much. A Banisher has taken it upon himself to show up in town and make himself known. You will accompany me to the meeting. We leave in 15 minutes.

Gil had never thrown proper clothes on faster in his goddamn life.

His father was of course ready and waiting for him in the carriage when he'd hurried outside. Their manor home wasn't far from the town center, and his father was a practical man who took no issue with a brisk walk or a short ride on horseback; that they were traveling in a manner so official was telling in itself. The six minute ride occurred in silence, Gil sat opposite his father. Not a word was said, but the energy of the trip was clear: the man was pissed.

That energy smooths to a chilly stoicism the moment they arrive before the church house. Exiting the carriage one after the other, father leading son, they walk to the the two men awaiting them outside the pine doors: Father Barker, the balding and heavy-set pastor Gil had known since childhood, and a stern-looking man with dark hair streaked lightly with gray, his slim shoulders made more sharp and imposing by the heavy greatcoat he wore despite the mild weather of early spring. Offering a smile, the pastor steps forward to offer his introductions. ]

Mister Gutzman, allow me to introduce Abraham Warner Townsend, owner and coal master of our fine little town, and his son, Gilbert Callahan Townsend. Abe, this is Kosimir Gutzman, a Banisher of the Church. He arrived in the early hours this morning.

[ A half-step behind his father, Gil fights back a smile to keep his expression as neutral as possible. The exorcist he met was an old, gangly, sweaty sort of fellow; this Banisher is a much more appreciable sight. ]

[triggered]

[ Jesus Christ, what the hell are they feeding them out here?

Both of the men who exit the carriage are built like brick houses, and despite each of them being more than half a foot taller than Kosimir, he still gives the impression of meeting eye-to-eye. ]

Pleasure to make your acquaintances.

[ Replying in his hard city accent, very little about Kosimir seems pleased, much less with the present circumstances being what they are. The tired slump of his shoulders will probably go away with a good night's rest in a real bed; the crease that divides his brow, unfortunately, is there to stay. He at least has good reason to be weary: where some might choose to spend their morning recuperating after the long journey, the Banisher immediately began to snoop around town, introducing himself to locals and sticking his nose where it doesn't belong before he met the mine's new owner.

The most suspicious thing he found was how well-liked the Townsend men are. Which, make no mistake, is extremely goddamn suspicious. Mining is challenging work under the best of circumstances, but everyone he spoke with had nothing but good things to say about the Townsend family. It didn't add up. ]

This is quite the operation you've built, Mister Townsend.

[knottedbowtie]

[ The stoic and unreadable expression on Abraham Townsend's face could at first be seen as forced, but given how little it shifts as he speaks it soon becomes evident that this is just the way the man looks all of the time. Extending a hand, he takes Kos' in a powerful handshake — not the sort that grinds together bone in a show of force and aggression, but the kind that's just firm enough to show active restraint is being applied to not do that. ]

Acquired. The mines were sunk by Black Gold Industries in 1840; after the fire and subsequent cave-in of 1847, the company went belly-up and I purchased the land and set to straightening out the mess they left behind.

[ Gruff, tough, and to the point; it's no wonder he's done well amongst miners who'd already seen worse.

The younger Townsend steps forward then to offer a handshake as well. While clearly no less built than his father there's a different energy to his grip: restrained, to be sure, but less business and more genuine enthusiasm. The vibe is mirrored in his sunny smile and that extra little twinkle in his eye that's hard to place. ]

A pleasure, Mr. Gutzman.

[ Seemingly pleased with the progress of the introduction this far, Father Barker interjects with a jovial laugh: ]

Abe's far too modest as always! He put quite a lot into these old mines, but not nearly as much as he's put into the people that work it. Now if you fine gentlemen would like to join me, I've made a fresh pot of coffee and have some grits ready if y'all are feeling a mite peckish while we talk business.

[ Motioning them all along the side of the building, the pastor leads them to his manse just behind the church house and escorts them inside to a modest sitting room with well-worn chairs around a rough-looking coffee table and a metal coffee pot already set out for them. He invites them to sit, pouring coffee for each of them as he speaks. ]

I must say Mister Gutzman, we weren't expecting somebody along just like that! I'd only written to the Triennial Convention maybe three weeks ago asking for their insight on our predicament, and normally the wheels tend to run rather slow in the best of times; I'd reckoned another month at least before we even got a reply.

[triggered]

[ All but collapsing into his seat, he takes the tin cup of coffee with a grateful nod, draining more than half of it before setting the cup down. Most things he had already learned from the townsfolk and filled in the blanks from there. He can't quite keep the surprise from his expression, however, his pale eyes sharpening with interest as the priests mentions the most recent letter. ]

You know what they say, Father: The Lord works in mysterious ways.

Why don't you tell me more about this predicament that you're having? From the beginning, if you would.

[knottedbowtie]

[ Father Barker, seeming none the wiser, lets out a delighted belly laugh. ]

Mercy, ain't that the truth!

[ The Townsends are a bit more inscrutable. Abraham's expression shifts not an inch, though his eyes remain squarely focused on Kos. And Gilbert? Aside from a brief glance at his father, he seems too wrapped up in trying to restrain what could only be summarized as golden retriever-esque energy to have much else going on. The pastor shares a look with the elder Townsend, who gestures for him to continue. ]

Now mind you this was before my time here, but back when the mines was first sunk seems they started having troubles almost right away. The fellows that were working back then would talk about hearing voices and strange sounds down deep in the tunnels, or seeing things out of the corner of their eye. The Black Gold men they had on site didn't think much of it — but from what I hear they didn't think much of anything going on with the hard working folk of this town, what with all their attention on their own coin purses. Accidents happened as they always do in the mines, but the men that died, well... the miners started seeing them in the tunnels as twisted specters and the like, breaking tools and terrorizing the living, all kinds of ruckus. The way the old boys tell it, it was the unrestful spirits that lead to the explosion.

[ The way he tells it bears a certain quality of a fireside ghost story: frightful, ominous, but with a hint of theatrics that imply the man himself might not fully believe the words he's passing on. Taking a gulp of his coffee, he carries on. ]

After Abe purchased the mine and set things to right, everything quieted down. Sometimes there'd still be talk of whispers in the dark, but a few blessings from the Good Lord seemed to quell the men's worries. This past month though the boys broke new ground for a fresh tunnel... and now all that is back with the Devil's vengeance. No amount of holy water or Lord's Prayer will quiet the ghosts in that mine, and while we've taken great care and caution in our work, accidents are on the rise and there's fear that something awful may be yet on the horizon. That's why I saw fit to seek Church's wisdom on how best to keep the light of Jesus Christ burning strong in these hills and push Satan's influence back into the darkness where it belongs.

[triggered]

[ Kos' mind goes to the letter in his front pocket and a shiver runs up his spine. There hadn't been anything about an explosion in the letter. He glances between the other 3 men. ]

"The explosion?" When did this happen?

[knottedbowtie]

[ Still dispassionate in tone and manner, Abraham takes over. ]

April 3, 1847. A fire started deep in the mines; the explosion came not long after. Inspection showed signs of a gas buildup, courtesy of Black Gold cutting corners to save themselves a few pennies at the cost of men's lives. Weren't long before the fire reached the gas, ignited a seam of coal and collapsed two tunnels, taking 13 miners with it.

[ Leaning forward with his arms on his knees, he regards Kos with a raised eyebrow. ]

Mister Gutzman, what happened in these mines was a tragedy, make no mistake — but miners are a superstitious lot, and I believe the ghosts we may be dealing with are those of memory rather than devils and haints. What we need is to find what may be destabilizing the tunnels and know whether or not they are still safe to work, not play further into the trickery of ghost stories.

[ Though the shift in expression is subtle, Kos may still catch the way Gilbert's lips purse together in a sign of silent disagreement. Father Barker shakes his head. ]

I know you've got your doubts, Abe, and I ain't one to buy into stuff and nonsense like they get up to in the hills, you know that. But that new tunnel opened up 30 years to the day from when these mines first got sunk, and the boys are saying the problems are just like what they'd seen before. You got to admit it's concerning, ghosts or no.

[triggered]

[ Less than a month after the letter was written, he notes sourly. It seems clear that the history of the mine plays a major part in whatever plagues the town, supernatural or not. He finishes what's left of his coffee, reaching for the coffeepot to pour himself a new cup. ]

If I may, gentlemen. As I'm sure the Father can attest, I'm not here to interfere with your operation. Life to the living, Death to the dead, us Banishers say. I'm only concerned with the spirits that may still be lingering in the area. Just let me conduct my business with them, and I can be on my way before you know it.

For what it's worth, in my experience, having a Banisher nearby makes for braver workers.

[knottedbowtie]

[ The coal master's frown deepens a fraction at the edges. Though he's a hard man to read, it's not difficult to hazard a guess: he is not fond of Banishers. Or perhaps just this Banisher. Before the elder Townsend can respond, however, Gilbert speaks up for the first time since their arrival in a calm, even tone that seems practiced in its care with managing his father. ]

Easing nerves will make it a good deal easier to manage inspections, sir — and steady hands mean less chance of accidents.

[ Abraham seems to ruminate on this a moment before taking up his coffee and taking a swallow. Finally, he leans back in his chair. ]

I am not interested in the business you purport to conduct, Mister Gutzman. But if my men will take comfort in your presence then I see little harm in allowing you to conduct it, so long as you don't go whipping up their fears any worse.