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

[Primarily, she will find a human. One barely into adulthood - if she's able to gauge such a thing - dressed shabbily in sweats and a purple hoodie smeared with layers of crusted sand. His hair, unkempt and stiff, falls in thick locks over his lidded eyes in total lack of self-management.]

[Or maybe he'd been getting around to it eventually, and something distracted him. Something like... a freaking spider lady crawling down the cliff.]

[He definitely seems shocked, his eyebrows pulled high despite the sleepy look in his face. There's an odd, faint slouch to his shoulders suggesting a generally poor posture, but he's ramrod straight at the moment, his arms shoved far down into his hoodie pockets. And he is, more or less, openly staring at Muffet as she descends.]

[At least he isn't running in absolute terror yet?]

....

[Actually he might just be frozen.]

[Okay, humans she's familiar with. Admittedly, it's usually more in the context of trying to sell them pastries, but she can work with this. Probably. No screaming or murder attempts yet, so that's a good sign.]

Hello, my name is Muffet. Do you happen to know how I got here? It was a rather unexpected arrival.

[Okay, she's talking to him. Giant spider woman is talking to him. That's pretty fucking weird.]

[But, he's seen weirder.]

[Her voice seems to stir him from his stupor, in any case. Ichimatsu's spine finally relaxes into a slump and he furrows his brows, squinting at her as if maybe that will fix the fact that she's a giant spider. It doesn't, so he opts to answer her in a blunt voice devoid of any humorous edge.]

You climbed down the cliff.

Well, yes. The ability to weave an impromptu climbing rope tends to come in handy for this sort of thing. Besides, I wanted to see if there was anything useful down here.

[But instead there's just you. Oh well.]

E-eh? No, just me...

[He echoes that sentiment exactly. Trust him, he knows he's not useful at all. Ichimatsu eyes her a bit more carefully. Then he extracts a hand from his pocket and jerks it back over his shoulder, indicating a thin sliver of shimmering water visible through a slit in the foliage behind him.]

You could check the beach. Might be some driftwood or something.

Well, it's certainly worth a try, anyway. I think I see something floating in the water over there, although I'm not sure what...

Want to come take a look?

[????]

[Maybe she's confused or something. People don't just invite a Matsuno to go places, they're all unlikable trash. Ichimatsu hastily waves a palm in her direction, trying to convey his exact level of disinterest while also... peeking over his shoulder to try and glimpse whatever it is Muffet sees.]

Forget it, I'll slow you down. I'm not interested in anything that would help me survive. The sooner I die and wake up, the better.

[... he's really craning his neck trying to look, now.]

[There are some indistinct shapes bobbing in the water. Looks like some wreckage, maybe from a small boat or life raft? Could be useful for salvage.]

Hmmm. Decided this is a dream, then? I admit it would explain a lot, but I'm not terribly eager to risk being wrong about that. After all, sooner or later one does tend to wake up, but other options are a tad more lasting.

[She shrugs, which is kind of impressive to look at with that many arms.]

Well, it's not like I'd mind if I died in real life either...

[But he's probably, definitely dreaming. He's talking to a spider woman after all. Though maybe he shouldn't cast stones, given his own ability...]

[Ichimatsu grumbles and moves a palm to his collar, cracking his neck with a sharp jerk of his head. Shoving his hands back into his pockets, he turns around on his heel; it looks like he's changed his mind about not helping her.]

Suit yourself. Let's check it out.

[She politely declines to comment on his lack of self-preservation instincts and simply smiles and motions for him to follow her. If he does, she'll lead him out to a section of the shoreline, where there are indeed several promising-looking bundles of debris floating in the water.]

Hmmm... I wonder if webbing would work as fishing line?

[Ichimatsu does indeed follow her, coming to a stop at the water's edge. As he squints his eyes against the brightness of sunlight licking across the water's surface, a hand lifts into a visor over his eyes, and he makes at least a token effort to discern the usable debris from the true garbage from this distance.]

[At her question, though, he only gives a shrug. He's sure the spider lady knows more about webbing than he does. Although...]

... what's that stuff made from, anyway?

Magic, generally.

[She replies as though this is totally normal and straightforward, suiting actions to words by spinning out a line of gleaming dark purple thread between one pair of hands while looking thoughtfully out at the water.]

[Magic.]

[Sure, why the hell not.]

[Ichimatsu stands there and lets her do her thing, his own hands shoved once again into his pockets. God forbid he offer to help or something. His eyes are drawn to her ministrations though, and he's genuinely curious to see what she's about to do.]

[Before all that, though, there's something that's been bothering him.]

... hey. Can I ask you something?

[She tilts her head to look at him thoughtfully.]

You may, yes.

[For someone who just asked permission, Ichimatsu seems to be having an awfully hard time getting it out. He fidgets suddenly, his voice starting and dying in his throat a couple times before he clears it with a forceful cough and kicks at the sand. Is his face red for no apparent reason?]

A-are you a... you know.

[Like, Totoko-chan's fish theme, or Nyaa-chan's cat theme...]

An... i-idol...?

[...Okay, not what she was expecting, but flattering. Muffet blinks in surprise and then smiles, shaking her head calmly.]

No, I'm just a baker- it's sweet of you to think I could be, though. We've only got one particularly famous idol that I know of back home, but he's a robot.

Bit obnoxious sometimes, but I do admit that he's an excellent singer.

[Ah.... o-okay. Okay, that's probably for the best, actually. Ichimatsu might not have been able to handle it if she had turned out to be an idol. He's not good at handling popular people. Part of him is surprised, though -- for a spider person, she's still pretty cute...]

[Ugh, now's not the time to be a creep like his older brothers. Ichimatsu casts off their influence with a physical shake of his head.]

I see. W-well... forget it, then. [He's still a bit red.] So what's the plan?

Not going to try swimming for it, I think- if there's something dangerous in the water, I'd rather not find out the hard way.

I think I'll toss this out and let it stick to the piles, then reel them back in. How's your throwing arm? It might go faster with two of us working on it.

[Huh... yeah, that's probably smart. Of all the ways to die, getting eaten by a fish sounds like one of the less glamorous options. Ichimatsu considers her question with a slight cant of his head. He's not that strong -- he doesn't work out like Jyushimatsu or even Todomatsu -- but it doesn't look too far out, and he doubts the webbing can weigh that much.]

[Frankly, it sounds like a pain, but he's not exactly busy at the moment. And he guess he sort of owes her for not laughing at him for the idol thing.]

Yeah, I could do it. But wouldn't it stick to me?

[Muffet shakes her head, and explains:]

I can control what it sticks to and when. Magic's useful like that.

Ah, really... I see. Nice.

[No, he doesn't get it in the slightest. He seems relieved, though; it's not like he's grossed out by spiders or anything, but nobody likes dealing with the misfortune of getting cobwebs stuck on themself. Either way, he nods and waits, figuring she'll demonstrate when she's good and ready to.]

[Muffet spins out another long line of purple webbing between one pair of hands, and holds it out for him to take, using another hand to lift her own line in preparation to toss it at one of the crates.]

Ready?

[He looks at it sideways, takes it slowly, like someone might reach for a dog they aren't confident won't snap at them. When Ichimatsu lifts it from her with both hands, he rubs it back and forth between both sets of thumb and index fingers. Huh - weird. It's kinda just similar to yarn. His cats back home would love the stuff... man, now he's kind of jealous that he can't make something like that whenever he wants to.]

[She questions him, and he looks a bit startled.]

O-oh, yeah.

[Hastily Ichimatsu hikes up one sleeve and twirls one end of the webbing into loops around his forearm. Without waiting for any further prompting, he winds up and lets loose with the coil, watching it sail towards the nearest crate. Ah... good. Looks like all that baseball that Jyushimatsu dragged him into paid off. It would have been embarrassing if he'd missed after all that.]

[Muffet throws her own line out, hitting another crate a bit to the left of Ichimatsu's, and nods in satisfaction.]

[She makes a pulling motion with one hand, and the threads slowly begin to shorten, dragging the crates they're stuck to back in to shore along with them.]

So that's magic... looks useful.

[Ichimatsu watches quietly, his heavy lids lifted a bit higher in interest. And here he thought he would have to expend energy and effort pulling the crates in, too... no, no. He should probably be at least a bit helpful. Ichimatsu wanders down the shoreline until the tide nips at his toes, ready to intercept the first crate and drag it onto the shore as soon as it beaches itself.]

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