TEST DRIVE MEME ( 001 )

[lifeaftr_mods]

Test Drive Meme #1

Hello, and welcome to our very first test drive! We’re pleased that you’re expressing an interest in the game. Here, you can test the waters, gauge how your character may fare in the world of LifeAftr, and even gain some in-game incentives, if you so choose.

Remember that Reserves will open on July 17th and that Applications will open on July 24th, in preparation for the game’s official opening on August 3rd!

But first, two important notes!

1. The island of Mu exists apart from the real world and possesses a dream-like quality that characters are innately aware of from the moment they appear on its shores. No need to panic or fret. Dreams are odd things, after all - and anything can happen in them. Why would anyone question where their mind chooses to wander in its sleep?

2. Due to the nature of Mu, threads in our test drive can not only be accepted as thread samples in your application, but can be accepted as game canon as well. In fact, certain choices your character makes in Mu have the potential to bear in-game consequences.

Shipwrecked
The white sand of the beach ridges the island’s edge, even if the clear water soon becomes murky the further out you look across the horizon until the turquoise gleam of the tide disappears in a coil of surrounding fog. Indeed, your best prospects may very well be to strike out among the trees or the crags looming out over the foam-capped waves. There’s lumber to be found and made from the palm-like trees, potentially fruit or edible tubers of some kind if you forage about some. The further you travel, however, the more of your surroundings will reveal themselves in a steady unspooling of curiosities.

One corner of Mu’s current construct drops away into a sheer cliff, initially too dangerous to brave for all but the more daredevilish, but if one starts to scan the sharp rocks below, you might catch sight of what appears to be sodden planks of wood - a wreckage tossed up against the rocks. And a little further...a bobbing, shattered wreck of a lifeboat’s remains, potentially bearing supplies that might yet be salvageable.

Fashion what you can from the wood and stone around you or scavenge from the ruin of the land, if you like. But you can’t simply stand around and wait forever. It’s going to get dark sometime - and if a creature of unknown terror doesn’t catch you, the elements surely will.

Storytime

There’s a sense of camaraderie in this cove, you think. As the sun hangs low over the horizon, the world cast into orange hues, long shadows dispersed by roaring fires that dot across the beach.

That’s right, folks: it’s storytime.

There’s no one to preside over this meeting of the minds in Mu. Call it a vague recreation of things to come, if you like, some vaguely fatidic dreamlike state where you may find yourself drawn to the heat and company that awaits you by the fire. And from there, compelled to default to that old instinct that most of intelligent civilization has revered since they were advanced enough to paint geometric shapes on cave walls.

You tell a story.

Perhaps it’s a tragedy, a tale of woe and of personal loss. Perhaps it’s the sort of thing you’d break out after a few rounds of your alcoholic beverage of choice, clapping hands to your knees as you try to bite back your mirth long enough to spill the punchline. Perhaps it’s an adventure of some sort, some unbelievable rendition of your past exploits. The only common thread to be had, as those gathered around the fire share their tales, is the fundamental rule of a ritualistic sharing of stories such as this: its truth.

But how one chooses to define "truth" is, in its own way, another story entirely...

Dance, Sucker, Dance!
The beat of your heart in your chest is difficult to ignore. It judders with a pulsing, rhythmic quality. If you’re one of those that lacks a heart, the beat is still omnipresent and all-encompassing, until your entire body is unwittingly bobbing in time to a metronomic tune that seems ingrained into your very soul. It’s inescapable. You can’t seem to move unless it’s in time to the rhythm that’s now singing in every atom of your being.

But rest assured, you’re not alone in this musical curse. Everything, from the swaying trees to the waves against the beach, jumps in time to the music. And so do the monsters approaching you, that - wait a minute.

Monsters?

Oh, yes. Did we mention those?


It seems you’ve encountered the wrath of the Boogieman, who curses you to only dance to his infernal beat. If you wish to best him, you’ll have to either evade or destroy the blobs of greenish slime that serve as his minions, all in time to the hard beat of the tune in your head. Clear the radius of his curse or risk an open confrontation, if you dare. Don’t worry if you look foolish; chances are anyone else caught in the Boogieman’s thrall feels just the same.

Mu isn’t pulling any punches to start with. It is a flighty creation, after all, and seems to revel in displacing people into new and uncomfortable situations.

---

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

Ignis Scientia | Final Fantasy XV | OTA (Spoilers for Altissia)

[shatteredlenses]

Storytime-

A Flickering Light I Cannot See:

Would he be handling this better if he hadn't just been brutally blinded? No matter how many times Ignis asks himself this and no matter how hard he blindly stares into the fire, no answer comes. He should be glad to have Prompto here with him, but the moment he feels any comfort in that, guilt washes the feeling away. Prompto should be with the others. He shouldn't be here playing seeing eye dog to a blind man. As much as he never wants to be parted from Noctis' side, Ignis decided long ago that if he could not keep up or if Noctis wished him to, he would stay behind. He had faith the others could go on without him. Splitting the team in two, though? It's too much. Two people can't face that alone.

They shouldn't have to face that alone.

Ignis leans forward, closer to the fire. Right now, his eyes are so badly damaged that he can't even see the light of the flickering flames. He is sure it is reflecting in the sunglasses that somehow managed to survive Altissia in his pocket, and he can feel the heat slowly drying his clothes and chasing the cold from his bones. He just wishes it could touch the heavy ice block that sits in his chest, a block formed from shock and a kind of dread he rarely allows himself to feel.

No magic. No weapons aside from the pair of small blades he carries hidden on himself for emergencies. No sight.

He's a strategist and a damn good one, but right now the overwhelming odds bring every idea he comes up with to a screeching halt.

And each aborted idea just makes him feel that much colder.

To Tell A Tale of Prophecy:

Ignis doesn't plan on telling a tale when he first comes to the fire with Prompto. He just wants to get warm and have a safe place to think, but as time passes, he realizes he's fallen into over-thinking everything. His mind is racing in a disordered mess like it hasn't since he was a child. At first, he tries just listening to the others telling their stories around the fire, hoping it will be enough to distract him and let his mind settle down. It helps a little, but it's not enough. Despite the weariness that drags him down and the hoarseness of his voice, Ignis knows the only way to accomplish his goal is to do something active. To speak; to spin; to regal the others with a story.

When there is a lull in the tale-telling, he stands, dark sunglasses perched on his face to cover at least some of the terrible scarring there. Those watching probably wonder if the tale he's about to tell will explain those. There is obviously a story of great and glorious battle behind them. But, that is not the story Ignis chooses. That is a story for another day, a day when the pain of freshly healed wounds does't still lance through his head, and the shattering of his pride doesn't burn hot in his chest.

Instead, he tells the tale of a midnight prince. A complex child chosen to bring light back to the world. Ignis knows him like no one else ever could, and while the advisor appears in the story, it is obviously his prince is the important one. The real one.

In a way, it brings Noctis there to be with him--with them--and for a short time it allows Ignis to know peace.

(OOC: Action or Prose responses are fine!)

[Prompto | Noctis]

[want_to_belong]

Prompto was in much higher spirits than he expected to be on his way back to Ignis. This one time he started trotting on ahead of Noct as they got closer. A stack of wood was under his arm and some supplies bundled up in some fabric was slung over his shoulder.

"Hey, Iggy!" his tone was notably lighter than it had been earlier. "You won't believe what I found."

Jogging up, he dropped his bundle and turned around towards Noct. He'd let Noct introduce himself. Iggy was going to be ecstatic. It was the first time Prompto felt like he could put on a real, genuine smile since arriving.

Re: [Prompto | Noctis]

[noctanotheroneout]

Noctis had the makeshift sack over his shoulder as he trailed behind Prompto. He gave pause when he saw Iggy, keeping in mine what Prompto has said about his "amnesia." He felt his heart sink a moment. It was hard to look at his friend in such a condition.

He left him in that condition.

"Hey," it was all he could say at the moment.

[shatteredlenses]

The moment he hears footsteps coming toward him, Ignis turns on the log of driftwood that has been pressed into service as his chair. Tired worn as he appears, he's obviously relieved that Prompto is back.

"It sounds as if your quest was a success?" Ignis is expecting a list of items found or places that Prompto visited while he was away. What's he's not expecting is to hear the that beloved and oh-so-familiar voice.

"Noct?" Before he realizes it, Ignis has pushed himself to his feet, but the sudden movement brings a return of the vertigo from earlier. He's barely able to get himself sat back down without falling, fingers gripping the log for dear life.

"Pardon me for not greeting you more properly. It seems my head is not done playing tricks on me."

[want_to_belong]

"Don't worry about it, Iggy."

Even if he hated to see Iggy struggling, he so very much wanted this to be a good moment. They had Noct back. Barely able to stay still, he set down the rest of his stuff and suddenly darted back to Noctis, grabbing the cast iron pot and carrying it over to Ignis.

"Check out what Noct found." As he set it down on Ignis' lap, he gently guided Ignis' hand to it. "We got some firewood, too. And some fabric. Maybe we can make a tent and stuff? Noct is going to catch dinner."

Though he was undoubtedly more positive, he sat down next to Ignis and rested a hand on his lower back, rubbing gently. There wasn't a lot of thought to his actions. Just trying to soothe away the dizziness.

[noctanotheroneout]

"Hey don't strain yourself," Noctis greeted. "I'd rather a quiet reunion, anyway." He set his sack down and approached his friend. His hand placed on Ignis's shoulder. He was real. Just like Prompto was real.

What exactly was this place?

"But yeah, we found a ship, and it had all kinds of things we can use." His hand didn't move. He had no idea how long he had been in the crystal. He didn't feel or look any different (not that Ignis was capable of telling). Though there was some weight in his voice, and in the placement of his hand. He missed them.

"You okay?"

It was a different reunion than he had with Prompto, but it was real and good all the same.

[shatteredlenses]

"Noct, I'm..." Ignis cuts himself off with a soft chuckle, looking up slowly as to not give the dizziness a reason to return. It's harder to see now with his eyes so badly scarred and hidden behind sunglasses, but his expression is a fond one. He'd been about to answer with his usual 'I'm fine,' but Noctis deserves more honesty than that. They both do.

"I'm better now that you're here," he allows a small smile to cross his face, before it fades into his more usual serious expression. "Did Prompto mention I can't remember anything after my injury in Altissia? I don't know if the injury itself is the cause, but that is a mystery we can leave for later. There are more pressing things we need to attend to now."

He allows his hand to come to rest atop Noctis'. There is something off about his prince. Something heavier than usual weighing on his shoulders, but like with Prompto, he won't press for now. There will be time for that once they have secured some kind of shelter and food for the night.

Before letting his hand drop, Ignis give Noctis' hand a squeeze and then turns his face toward Prompto, giving the blonde a nod of encouragement, "I'm glad raiding the galley was a high priority. I see you both have finally learned how to get on my good side."

[want_to_belong]

No doubt there was some sarcasm in that praise, but Prompto would take it. "You know us. We're just thoughtful like that."

It was both a joke and the truth. For the moment he was happy to relish in their good fortune. They still had challenges ahead. Gladio usually set up camp and started the fire, so inevitably he and Noct were probably going to be a disaster trying to do it with a downgrade in supplies. But Iggy could make fun of their prospective crap-tent later.

"I let'im know. I bet it'll all come back to you later. You probably just need to rest." Positive, positive. He needed to keep hopes up here. "I'm still not sure how you guys ended up here from the train, but... You know, Noct mentioned something kind of weird earlier." Well, a couple things, but Prompto wasn't sure how the crystal tied into anything yet. "He thought that maybe daemons don't come out here at night."

His gaze shifted up to Noct doubtfully. It'd be great if it was true, but it was hard to believe after all this time. "Like, we might be really far from home or something?"

He was rarely the one to slam ideas. It was mostly when he and Gladio had disagreed about what should happen with Ignis that he spoke up firmly, and that was in defense of a friend. Here he was more curious about what Ignis' input would be, or where they thought they might be.

[noctanotheroneout]

Noctis shrugged . "I'm not saying that they don't. We'll see when the sun sets." He looked towards the horizon. "This place doesn't seem to be infected with starscourge. The days are too long, longer than they were from what I remember at home. So with that, I can at least say we're a far ways from home."

He kicked around some of the dirt. "I wouldn't worry about the amnesia for now. It's hard to figure most things out on an empty stomach anyway."

[leatherdaddy]

[ Gladio's steps are perhaps easy to place even when muffled by sand. There's the creak of leather as he parks himself beside his friend. And of course, his voice. ]

Hey.

[ As casual as you please. As if they're not stranded on some strange island, or that he's been looking among the others for a familiar face. Strangely, he seems to accept their situation with the kind of ease of slipping into a bath. It's fine, this is fine. Everything is as it should be. Friends, huddled around a campfire. This is his element. Tropical is a nice touch. Ignis being blind? Not so much. Strangely, he accepts this too in that same dreamlike understanding. He sits in silence, listening to the fire crackle. ]

Found something while combing the beach.

[ Gladio reaches for Ignis' forearm, to guide his hand to the object. It's a long piece of some sort of metallic alloy, coated in a thin sheen of rust, but it's serviceable as a blind man's cane. ]

It's not the best... but I figured this might help you get around a little.

[shatteredlenses]

[Sand may muffle footsteps and injury take away sight, but it will take more than that to keep Ignis from recognizing the presence of one so familiar to him. Before Gladio even speaks, the he has tilted his head in the Shield's direction.]

Welcome back.

[It's good to have him there. Despite any differences they might have had over Noctis' training, and despite Ignis' own uncertainty about how accepting Gladio will be of his injury, there is no one else he can trust more at his side.]

Gladio?

[He's confused at first when the metal rod is placed into his hand, but as soon as the explanation comes, his expression softens and his chest tightens. Ignis knew he would eventually need to find something to use as a cane. Bringing himself to actually act on the knowledge is something his pride had not let him do just yet.

Slightly shaky fingers run over the rod once Ignis has brought it to rest across his knees. He needs to learn its dimensions by heart to make the most used of it, but stops after the first pass to send a small smile Gladio's way.]

Thank you. I'm most grateful. I hope finding it wasn't too much trouble.

[leatherdaddy]

[ It hurts to look directly at him, knowing that his injuries are fresh enough for Ignis to bear them with such heavy restraint even for him. His face is frequently cast to the floor, as if ashamed to show his face, his once sure hands fumble and quake with uncertainty, like a man searching in the dark.

What hurts for Gladio is not being able to relieve him from that pain and ease his burden. All he can do is be as patient as possible, guide him when he's within reach, but the moment he has to choose between him and Noct -- considering these two have both served the prince in their own way, there was an understanding between them that only servants know. Gladio's life would forever be for Noctis as his Shield. He's the one who is supposed to be harmed, not the damn chamberlain. ]

It's no problem. [ Gladio chases away the unhappy thought in the warmth of the fire and familiar company. Tries to lighten the mood by bumping his arm slightly with his as he settles in. Gladio tries to lighten his tone, forces it a little too much but Ignis' words of gratitude frankly makes his chest hurt. Ugh. ] I'm in my element here, so don't worry about it.

...How are you feeling? Hungry?

[ It's hard for Ignis to take care of even basic needs. He's in a survival setting and he's blind. This sucks. ]

[shatteredlenses]

[The wounds could hardly be fresher, Ignis having fallen into darkness in Altissia only to wake up wherever here is. He's torn between gratitude to whatever brought him here for at least healing his wounds and anger that they couldn't have bothered to go a step farther and return his vision as well. Still, it's his mind that has always been his greatest asset and he doesn't need vision to use it. Just the patience needed to learn his way again.

Ignis hands return to the task of learning the dimensions of his makeshift cane as he begins speaking.]

This particular challenge is surely a walk at the beach for you.

[The corners of his mouth twitch into a smile for a moment and then the smile fades.]

I'm a little hungry, but it would be wise to wait until I'm certain I'm not going to be ill before eating anything.

[While he doesn't say it aloud, the implication is clear. Ignis isn't going to risk wasting what little food they can find. He would rather be hungry until he's sure the dizzy spells, with their accompanying bouts of nausea, have passed. His body has been through quite a few shocks in a short amount of time. It's not surprising it's not cooperating with him at the moment.]

I'll be all right. We've faced worse than this and pulled through. I may not have my vision, but I do have a talented survivalist at my side. What more can I ask for?

[leatherdaddy]

[ Somehow the raw look of those wounds unsettles him, like they're too fresh, but he's not sure why it bothers him so much. There's a vague sensation of displacement, but it fits the dreamlike haze that fits around everything here... hangs like an early morning fog. Its presence somehow makes perfect sense, but it nevertheless leaves him feeling like he's straining to see something that is just slightly out of focus, obscured.

Gladio laughs, enjoying the lighthearted banter that feels far more familiar than the sight of him. ]

We certainly have.

[ But what he's said before makes him eye Ignis a little more closely, quietly. It's hard to tell in the light of the campfire if he's looking paler than usual, harder still to determine if he's unwell. He watches him feel along the length of the metal rod that will serve as his cane and frowns. Ignis seems to be pushing himself. ]

...You should rest.

[ Gladio grunts as he gets to his feet. With all the palm leaves he's collected, it won't take long for him to fashion some crude shelter to keep a light rain off him, act as padding between him and sand. ]

Give me a few minutes and I'll have a shelter ready for you. Okay?

[shatteredlenses]

[Ignis purses his lips together, barely holding back a sharp remark about not being made of glass. He stays his words because he knows Gladio is trying to make the best of an unreal situation. In some ways, Ignis is actually glad for that prickle of irritation. It keeps him from thinking too hard about the fact this might just be some kind of fever dream, and at any time he may wake up in Altissia. Not that it really matters if he is here or there. No matter where he wakes up, he's not going to be able to see.

He reaches out in the Shield's direction almost as if he is trying to coax his friend back to sitting at his side.]

You realize there is no rush. I'm hardly going to melt if it decides to rain. I would have done so a long time ago considering how wet I was when I woke up.

[Busy the hands to quiet the mind. What exactly is Gladio trying so hard to not think about?]

I'm not so tired that I can't listen if a friend is in need. What's troubling you so? It's more than just this place.

[leatherdaddy]

[ Gladio pauses a few steps away, the sound of a breath lodging in his throat is and the way he freezes up betrays the fact that Ignis is right on the nose. Even blind and bearing the pain of his fresh injuries, he's still perceptive. And maybe it's because they're both long, lifetime servants to the line of Lucis that he's more frank with him, doesn't hesitate to call him out.

It's kind of unfair for him not to return the favor, so Gladio stares down at the white, powdery sand on the ground and the rough vegetation that clings deep into it in search of more fertile soil hidden below. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Ignis move, stretch out his hand. He immediately springs into action, returning to his side with his brow furrowing.

His friend lives in darkness, he can't leave him hanging there like that... thinking he's alone. So he does the first thing he thinks of and grasps his fingers - briefly, just to let him know he's here. ]

...Something just feels off. [ But whenever he tries to put his fingers on exactly what, it seems to elude him. It's like it's on the tip of his tongue but he just can't spit it out. That feeling gets worse the longer he looks at Ignis' face. ]

Can't shake this weird feeling like... opening to a random page in a book and realizing you've read this chapter already, but not remembering when.

[shatteredlenses]

[If they were back at the Citadel where their daily routines had fewer immediate life or death consequences--though, some days getting Noctis out of bed on time was quite the life or death challenge in and of itself--Ignis would have been less blunt, but now with so much unknown around them and no vision to rely on, he can't justify it. At least, not with someone he's known for so long.

Still, there is a small part of him that wishes his all too accurate perceptions had been off this time.

He's grateful when he feels Gladio's fingers in his hand, giving them a gentle squeeze before he lets go.]

That is most strange. While, I can't remember anything after Altissia, I'm quite certain you've not made a habit of ending up stranded on strange tropical islands. Does the Prince's Shield have a secret life he hasn't been telling me about?

[There's a flash of a smile on Ignis' face before he grows serious again.]

Is there something that makes this feeling grow stronger? A sight or smell perhaps?

storytime sorry Iggy

[50shadesofburaza]

It is a proper tale, at least. Of a prince with a great destiny. A youthful rascal. A great man. It's very poetic- well spoken. It's

"Maah, boring." Yeah it's that. Karamatsu slouches over his soggy guitar, mouth open. Any more of this kind of tale and he'll be drooling. Drooling. Who cares about some snotty prince who was born into riches???

Never be sorry! \o/

[shatteredlenses]

"Boring? Well, it hardly seemed so at the time. Perhaps, it's my retelling that is faulty. I admit, the crowds I'm used to speaking to really don't go for this kind of thing," Ignis turns toward the sound of the voice, face firmly in what Prompto had so recently termed 'sourpuss' setting.

"If that's boring, perhaps I should regale you with a rousing detailing of the declining numbers of Rainbow Frogs near the Risorath Basin instead?"

!!

[50shadesofburaza]

"That's even more boring than the last story!!" He can't be serious, can he?! He has to be joking! Is it possible that he's finally found someone more boring than Choromatsu.



No. That's too grave an insult, even to someone like this.

"Where's the adventure? The romance? Heh, a true craftsman of stories knows to utilize matters of the heart to draw their crowds." Karamatsu nods, almost like he knows precisely what he's talking about.

:-D

[shatteredlenses]

Adventure? Romance? Well, the romantic aspect is something that is certainly more up Gladio's alley than Ignis', but he's not about to step down without a fight.

"Have you never heard the saying that one should not judge a book by its cover? Lets give these poor frogs a croaking chance, shall we?" A small smirk lifts the corner of his mouth and those who know him... Well, those who know him would already be on high alert considering the terrible pun and the smirk would just confirm the need to brace themselves for the worst of Ignis' odd humor.

"Two small ponds, both alike in clarity,
In fair Risorath, researchers amass,
From ancient text break to new discovery,
Where curious minds do make curious hands crass.
From algae covered depths of these two lakes
A pair of wave-cross'd frogs separated
Misadventure presenting loveless fakes
Render species recovery belated."

Eat your heart out, Eos Shakespeare.

wheezelaughing

[50shadesofburaza]

What...what is this drivel?

Blind to the fact that Ignis is, in fact, blind, Karamatsu stares at him, mouth slightly ajar. His brain might be oozing out of his ears. He could be catatonic, actually- here sits Karamatsu, felled by only the most boring of tales.

"...The prince story was better." Oh, friend. You are...certainly in need of guidance. "We have a long way to go before you are ready for public showing..."

Haha. But of course-

"I will do the best for you that I can."

:-) Iggy's warped sense of humor brings joy to my cold, dead English Major heart. LOL

[shatteredlenses]

If Ignis could still roll his eyes, he undoubtedly would despite how rude the gesture is. Since he can't, he merely responds with a soft click of his tongue and a tilting of his head, "I didn't think it was that bad. The members of the Council are usually quite pleased with my reports."

Well, therein probably lies the problem. Giving reports and reviewing minutes for a bunch of cranky nobles who would rather be anywhere but in a meeting at 7am is a far cry from telling an interesting tale. Still, Ignis is nothing if not eager to learn.

"You are willing to teach me?" Ignis. Ignis, no... "If so, would it be rude to request my first lesson now? I have little else to occupy my attention at the moment."

At least, nothing he really wants to focus on. There is dealing with his lost vision, finding a way home, doing something to help Prompto out, but none of that really can be addressed until it is light again. It will be good to have a distraction so that his mind doesn't go into over-analyzing mode.

1/2 my apologies there's been a lot of mod stuff to do!

[50shadesofburaza]

"That sounds like something my brother wishes he could say." Which just makes it twice as boring. Only Choromatsu could pretend to be inspired by the idea of councils and reports.

It's true then. All work and no play makes Ignis a dull boy-- who just made the worst possible best decision of his life. How could he turn down someone in need? Someone with so much potential...and an equally cool pair of sunglasses?

Yes. This is how true Cool Guys are born. Not from birth, but by his magnanimous influence.

"Heh. No problem. The first and most important lesson to remember... all stories can be improved with one, key ingredient."

[50shadesofburaza]

"Women."




Put a knife through his skull. Please.