aftr_ooc | TEST DRIVE MEME ( 001 )

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*test drive meme

TEST DRIVE MEME ( 001 )

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 )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Shipwrecked

[Newt is entirely waterlogged. He's not entirely sure how he's gotten here, only that he is, coughing, wet and soaked, stumbling to his feet to look around on the beach. He stares, blinking once, twice...before stating the obvious]

Well, this'd be freakin' idyllic if it wasn't for, y'know...[and he looks around, slowly, as if trying to piece together what's going on]....everything?

Storytime

[Newt is...oddly reticent. He sits near the fire, elbows resting on his knees, the flickering light making his facial scars look practically ghoulish. Newt's eyes narrow behind his glasses as he stares into the flames, and he reaches up a hand to push them back into place and before he takes a deep breath and begins.]

Once upon a time there was his asshole who was part of a corporation that kept people contained in a ruined city like lab rats. He experimented on them whenever he liked, and though the residents tried to kill him, he kept coming back to life. One day, the people trapped in the city destroyed the machine that kept bringing him back to life, and then they killed him.

[the corner of Newt's mouth twitches upward; it's not quite a smile, not quite a frown. It's small and bitter and yet somehow vindictive, curling a bit wider as Newt reaches to scratch a bit at the scar bisecting his left cheek]

And then I dissected his heart. He had some weird-ass crocodile bullshit going on, so he honestly probably fucked with himself as much as he fucked with us. Basically, dude was a psycho. [He sits back with a huff, then, shoving his hands in his pockets] So the moral of the story is don't be a dick and treat other people like lab rats because they'll find a way to murder you.

Edited 2017-07-15 07:24 (UTC)

[Tim's not what you would call the ideal tour guide, especially since he's still adjust to the almost Edenic tranquility to this place himself. Compared to the Castle in the Mist, this may as well be goddamn paradise.

Then again, his last memory is of a child sinking the blade of a knife into his soul and rending it to pieces. But he's pretty sure that if this were any sort of afterlife, it wouldn't be nearly as peaceful.

But at least he's not alone.

Aside from the camera strapped to his front and the flip-knife in his hand, Tim's not especially assuming - not nearly as much as the guy with a set of scars that'd make the Joker jealous.]

Yeah, I'm pretty sure this isn't paradise.

[Newt just...snorts at that] Fuck yeah, dude, never trust the shit they show you. Those fascist dicks'll do anything to make you complacent.[yep gonna dragging himself further up onto the beach now, though, not really paying attention to where he's walking; instead, he's fumbling in the pockets of his coat, looking for something. When he finds it, his face twists into a mixture of immediate worry] Shit! [and with that exclamation he's going to pull out a particularly waterlogged...origami newt. Yep.]

Shit, no, don't fall apart on me--[and he's moving further up the beach, out the way of the water, attention entirely on this piece of paper lol sorry Tim he's lost interest in you entirely] --maybe if I just let it dry it'll be fine--

[Fascist dicks. He'd ask if the guy's familiar with Ozuma in practice or in theory, but if he's honest with himself, "fascist dicks" could honestly mean anyone.

Whoever his new companion in shipwrecked confusion is, he's already proving that he's what Tim would call distractible. There's something almost Jay-like in his devotion to an object that's both inanimate and uncaring as to its sentimental value.

He snaps those thoughts away, a hard lateral jerk. Thinking of Jay never gets him anywhere.]

Might be a way to make a fire or something. Or, uh - here.

[Yes, thank fuck. He still has it. It takes a moment, but he manages to extricate the silver prism of his lighter from his pocket, offering it out with a hesitant lift to his eyebrows.]

Might help dry it off.

[Being lost in his own world already, Newt's head jerks up, startled, when Tim offers him the lighter. He blinks at it, before frowning a little, attention tilting up to Tim's face]

Um...unless that's some sort of magic fire, dude, it's just gonna burn it.

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

postictal - 2017-07-16 06:27 (UTC) - Expand

Newt Geiszler | Pacific Rim + Haven and Hadriel CRAU

shipwrecked yo

frick yeah

i've missed uuuuuu

BOO I'VE MISSED U TOO

Shipwrecked

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storytime

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storytime

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I'M HERE FOR THIS CR

FUCK YES FUCK YES FUCK YES

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storytime

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