aftr_ooc | TEST DRIVE MEME ( 010 )

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*test drive meme

TEST DRIVE MEME ( 010 )

Test Drive Meme #10

Hello, and welcome to LifeAftr! 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 April 17th, and Applications on April 24th!

Two important notes:

1. LifeAftr's test drives take place on the island of Mu, which 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, largely in the form of test drive reward items.

Friends on the Other Side
When you open your eyes, it is to a shadow-tinted cityscape. The buildings are clay-built and colorless, plunging seemingly infinitely onward into the sky before disappearing into a dense pool of foglike sky. The silence weighs heavily like a mantle across every inch of this place, and no matter how you squint at them, every structure seems strangely blurred, as though being viewed through distorted telescope lens, or in the reflection of a pool of water.

All told, it's probably obvious from the start that all is not well here.

From the moment you arrive in this strange nether-place, your eyelids have begun to grow heavy. Something about this city and its perpetual, misted darkness leaves you inexplicably drowsy, ready to curl up and fall asleep on the spot.

That wouldn't be a problem, perhaps, if you were alone. Mu does not boast a great deal of flora and fauna, but what it does have is a creature capable of inflicting much in the way of misfortune - clockroach. They occupy this city in swarms of wraith-like wisps, both intangible and curiously amorphous. But when they draw close, they instill a sense of terror like no other, usually igniting one's fight-or-flight response as a result. Sure, they might not be capable of actually hurting you, but why should that matter, when they have a skill for inducing a sense of utter dread in their targets?

Ever try to get some sleep with fresh adrenaline pumping in your veins?

Pretty Fly for a...Fire Guy
With indigo-blue skies, lush fields of green, and miles of rippling grass hills for as far as the eye can see, Mu has cast you into the perfect and picturesque evening. As the imaginary sun lips the very edge of the horizon and the last glow of orange fades to the purple of dusk, the fields come to life with a smattering of bright, wavering lights.

LifeAftr has its fair share of fireflies native to its many regions, but this particular kind is special. They're the size of quarters, very pretty to look at...and incredibly volatile besides. It's hard to interpret what these wondrous little glow-bugs might view as a threat or not, but at least it's remarkably easy to discern as much based on the sight of them alone: they're handily color-coded depending on their moods.

While they glow a contented amber by default, those that fireflies warm to will find themselves bathed in a green-blue glow as those bulbous, organic lanterns tint with a soft, cool turquoise. A few of them might even settle across your arms and in your hair, if they take that much of a shine to you.

Of course, those the fireflies don't warm to will be able to note as such when they light up a blazing crimson, mere seconds before the insects spit a stream of glowing orange, molten-colored acid. It stings and burns in equal measure, just as likely to scald you as it is to set the surrounding fields aflame.

Flower You Doing That?
Adventurers were both wary and relieved to discover that the next island on the horizon, known as Ziziphus, appeared to be a rather vegetation-rich paradise. They were considerably less relieved to learn that this island contained predators just like all the rest of them, despite the rich green backdrop of its meadows and the promise of lush woodland at its heart.

So it is that you, too, will learn that sometimes tufts of ferns are not tufts of ferns at all...but dangerous creatures called spindlanks.

What might initially appear to be a leafy hillock will very quickly prove to be something far more...mobile, if you get close enough. That clump of grass and red ferns will abruptly hoist itself up on six vine-like tendrils, crawling for its prey like a very large, mossy spider. While it's fully capable of swiping at its foes with its massive, leafy arms, the spindlank's favored method of dispatching its prey is simply to scuttle forth until it's positioned directly above you and drop down. If its weight does not crush you and choking on the clods of earth doesn't smother you, don't worry; the spindlank intends to eat you alive with a set of fleshy jaws set deep in its center.

For despite their leafy appearance, spindlanks are very much carnivorous. Their size can vary from anywhere between six and ten feet tall when their appendages unfurl entirely. They burn as easily as any plant matter would, but the size of them can make them quite difficult to topple alone.

And they are almost always hungry.

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

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friends on the other side » put that thing back where it came from or so help me

[Donn has never considered himself a violent person. He likes the discipline of training with his staff, of course, enjoys learning new ways to shape the world around him with his hands: neat rows of tilled soil, paths charted out with flat stones, tiny cairins gathered together in private places. But the actual violence of combat isn't something he enjoys. It's simply a chore like any other, undertaken when necessary but otherwise avoided.

Strange how such a central truth that had stood firm all his life could shatter like spun-glass while he was asleep.

The clockroaches are at once terrifying and somehow fascinating, a thing that Should Not Be even in the most wild and outlandish of dreams. And while there is no question at all that he is dreaming, Donn is distracted from thinking too deeply about anything else when he catches his first glimpse of the swarms through the swirling darkness and drowsy haze.

He wants to run from them. He wants to crush them. Not to protect someone else, not even to protect himself, only because his nerves are shrieking at him in the wordless tongue of primal instinct to smash them apart. His hooves, his staff, a rock clutched in a white-knuckled grip — it didn't matter.

He also wants to catch one.

Wants to hold it, touch it, stare at it for hours until he was finally satisfied. Because it is new and interesting and impossible, a wisp of not-quite color and changing shape that breaks every rule of natural law, and he's never seen anything like it before. Will not be stopped from figuring out how they worked.

Breathing hard, hands shaking — though from terror or exertion, he has no idea — Donn chases after a swarm that's smaller than the others, wondering how on this green earth he was supposed to cut a single one off from the rest (can they even be separated? they look like so much shimmering mist) and not doing a very good job of thinking clearly through his fear.]

pretty fly for a fire guy » i am the bug whisperer

[Accustomed to holding still while nature moved around him, Donn sits with goat-legs crossed and head bowed just slightly, breathing slow and deep and clear as dozens upon dozens of fireflies settle on his arms and shoulders, along the curve of his spine, in his unruly dark hair. They crawl over his nubby horns and through his fur, tickling him with faint sensation, green-blue glow highlighting his myriad of scars like strange tribal tattoos. Donn is careful to keep his hands open and balanced just so on his knees, fingers spread and palms upturned to allow the tiny incandescent bugs total access.

It almost looks like he's making an offering of himself to them.

Eyes closed, helpless and vulnerable, Donn's only thought is that this dream was far more pleasant than the last had been, not what might happen if someone came along to startle the fireflies with an indelicate touch.]

flower you doing that? » bad idea island

[Crouched just behind a rolling hilltop, Donn peers over the edge on hands and knees, observing a lone spindlank prowling around the edge of a meadow. Not looking for prey, the movement is all wrong for it, but searching for a suitable hiding or resting place, maybe? His brown eyes are wide and curious, fluffy ears perked up as though there might be something to hear besides the soft hush of shifting grass. Even his tail is wagging, betraying an eagerness that Donn probably should not have.

He wishes he could get closer.]

Wow! What a strange creature....it looks like a plant, but it moves like a spider. That's incredible! [Is he talking to himself or to you? Does he even notice that you're nearby? Who knows, but at least he's keeping his voice down to a whisper, rattling off question after question not unlike a chittering squirrel.] What does it eat? Are there more of them? Do they come from buds or seeds or something else? Can they get even bigger? I wonder—

[And on and on and on.]

wildcard » just fuck me up fam

[DO IT COWARDS]

[Frankly she has no idea about the talking, but his mind sure is busy. The Liberator slips up beside Donn, so close as to be almost touching as she crouches beside him in the grass. Wordlessly, she taps his shoulder and indicates one of the many teeth.... are those teeth tied into a necklace so large it's basically a mantle? Yes they are. It's easier to tell it's fresher than the others, too, a bit of still-white stringy root used to attach it to the rest.

She then flashes the mental image at him of a spindlank maw filled with sharp teeth.

Really, that's the most important part to know, in her opinion.]

[Donn doesn't glance over right away; the spindlank is fascinating, you understand, a new and interesting lifeform. So it takes a moment, a bit of effort to tear his eyes from its shambling form and focus on this new person that's crept up beside him. He looks from her face to the tooth and back again — and then flinches at the sudden mental invasion, blinking rapidly as his ears flatten. Rubs his temple as though to ward off a headache, but that's all. Because it's not painful; merely unexpected. Providing the link that he does between his community and the forest spirits of their home (does? did? they've become so quiet since his arrival, their chorus of soft voices in the back of his mind no longer murmuring constantly but silent, silent) meant occasionally taking psychic flashes of foreign influence in stride. A thought that wasn't his, a mental picture of a time and place outside of memory or imagination. He's even gotten sorta used to it.

So Donn shrugs the moment off but not quite, resolving himself to ask her just how she did that and why. Just as soon as this burning curiosity about the spindlanks unhooks its claws from his brain.]

Ah, so they have teeth?

[He reaches out to briefly touch the spindlank tooth hanging from her neck, wanting only to run a fingertip lightly down the jagged length to gauge the shape and feel of it. Hunting trophies being so common in the secluded little world of his village, Donn sees no reason to flinch away. Wouldn't even if he wasn't too busy thinking about comparisons to other predators, rats and wolves and snakes, the sort of creatures he knows like the back of his hand.]

Thank you for telling me! Or, well, showing me. [He rubs his temple again and smiles, bright and wide and grateful.] That must mean they hunt for their food, then. No point in having jaws like that otherwise— [and immediately another thought takes hold] —I wonder how much they need to eat in a day? They're so big, but I haven't seen much yet that would be more than a mouthful. What do you think? Did you see anything like that?

[The Liberator shrugs, conveying in brief flickers images of the island, flowers and ferns, trees and grassy hillocks. But she hasn't seen any edible-looking animals yet, only the heavy verdant greenery of Ziziphus.

Other than, of course, people like themselves. Slowly getting used to the fact that the people here are so mentally quiet, she adds in clarification a quick point at herself, then Donn, followed by a sharp shake of the spear held in her off hand and emanating a faint feeling of caution.

Does this guy even have anything to protect himself? She eyes him more thoroughly; those little nubby horns aren't going to help much in her opinion.]

[It takes him a minute to follow the line of not-quite-thoughts and flashes of emotion, fingers fisting awkwardly in the dirt and grass as the bigger picture becomes clear. It's not one he likes. Something so big needed a calorie intake to match; something with jaws needed to chew and rend and swallow. And whatever was available, well, that's what was on the menu.

Below, the spindlank finds a suitable hiding spot and nestles into the earth. Donn watches it closely, but as the creature grows still and silent, even his sharp eyes can't quite manage to pick it out from the lush surroundings. Which is totally fascinating but also worrisome. Donn wonders if he'd be able to sense its presence at all if he stood just outside of sensing range — and if he couldn't, then what chance did a normal person have?

Not that he's the only....er, "non-human" here. Was that even the right word to use? This is the first time in his life that Donn hasn't been the one and only "other", set apart from ordinary men.]

I think I get it. Maybe they eat other things, but there's no reason why they wouldn't try to eat us too. [Said without judgment or even frustration, of course. There was no point in being upset.] We'll have to be careful.

[Trusting that he'll be able to hear it if the spindlank suddenly moved again, Donn shifts his weight so that he's sitting down, back against the hilltop. A small sigh, then he looks at her spear.]

I wish I still had my knife. My staff, too, but I don't know how much good it would do against something that big. [Headtilt.] Did you fight one? ...By yourself? Is that where you got the tooth from?

[She shakes her head. Not alone, no. There's a mental image of the Knight, a small figure with a sharp little sword and bone mask: the Knight scaling the spindlank with slashes through its vine-y limbs and herself stabbing upwards with the spear.

Aware by now that all these quiet people need a little more of a hint than images alone, she picks a few blades of grass from the ground, holds them up near her nose, makes a disgusted face, and flicks them back into the grassy hillside, imagining the spindlank lying dead on the ground. Not even edible, as far as she can tell.

But this fellow is right in one respect. He should probably have a weapon. Her own spear is metal from shaft to point, dark with oxidation and with bits of leather wrapped around the shaft for hand-grips. But metal only came from underground, melted from rock. There's no way to get that here. Maybe a small sapling, end broken off into a point, she suggests, pointing at the distant edge of the grasslands, where the forest begins.]

[Merle is watching the spindlank over the goat man's shoulder. The goat man is pretty cool, reminds him of Pan -- who Merle thought he was at first, which was the reason he approached him totally ready to put him on blast for abandoning the dwarven cleric -- but the spindlank is where it's at right now.

Goat man is chill. Plant monster could probably tear both of them apart, especially with Merle magicless.]

Yeah, uh, definitely the first thing I think when I see a monster, too. "I wonder how they get it on."

[That might be slightly more true when it comes to plant monsters, but goat man doesn't need to know that about Merle just yet. The fucked up dream's still young.]

Get it on? Get on what? ....the branches of a tree, maybe? Like hanging ivy.

[Asked with complete sincerity because, well, what else could Merle be referring to?? Donn goes down the path of this lateral leap in logic with some eagerness, still avidly watching the spindlank. Has to clutch the ground beneath them a little harder to remind himself not to poke his head up any farther over the rise of the hill.]

That's an idea! And then maybe they drop...down? When something that looks edible comes along.

[Oh, you sweet summer child. Merle ponders cutting in and dashing the goat man's dreams, but it's too cruel, even for him. He just gives him A Look for a few moments and then moves on.]

Well, I bet we look pretty edible. It's roughly three times my size [Merle being not even four feet tall] and plenty of cultures eat goat as a delicacy. So maybe we shouldn't go around walking under trees. Or ladders. Definitely not ladders either.

[Drop Plants. They're a real danger.]

[Some people would bristle at the implication they might be considered delicious, but Donn simply nods. All life is balance! Everything is food for something else; that's just how it goes on this bitch of an earth.]

Yeah, goat tastes pretty good. And it's healthier for you than chicken or beef, too. [If someone tried to eat him he would politely offer them a knife and fork, or at least wish that he could. Starvation's no fun.] Hmm....we definitely need to be careful, but it's no good if we can't go into the woods at all.

[Merle is THE SHORTEST PERSON HE'S EVER ENCOUNTERED but Donn himself only has maybe two feet on him, the spindlank overtops them both by an uncomfortable margin. "Fools rush in" would be an absolutely terrible plan.]

Maybe if we had some bait....

[Bait, huh?]

Not it. Nose goes.

[Merle taps his nose to double down on the fact that he is most definitely not acting as the bait for this whole maneuver. Whatever this guy's planning, Merle's not going to be a part of it. He's used to getting dragged into the non-plans of the fool that rushes in every time, so he's pretty content to just let this play out as it will.]

Here's a thought. How about we just, you know, let it do its thing and we live here now, behind this hill? I've got, you know, proficiencies in... plants or whatever, I forget what.

[Merle you have a +0 in Nature, don't lie.]

I can't, I can't commune with plants right now but I can definitely try to talk at some trees and ask them politely not to kill us.

[Donn just blinks, momentarily too surprised to do anything else. To say anything else besides:]

Eh? I'd never ask you to risk yourself like that!

[The very idea makes him feel more than a little sick, and nevermind that Merle is a perfect stranger. Donn shakes his head, firm.]

I think I'm faster than you anyway, so if we had to use live bait, then obviously I'd do it. [Plus, there's the whole regeneration thing. No real reason to fear getting an arm bitten off if it can just grow back, right?

That aside:]

....do you think the trees would try to eat us too?

[WHY MUST WE TRUST NO BITCH]

[Merle is absolutely on board for other people to be self-sacrificial. He almost refutes the fastness claim, but it's absolutely correct, and arguing means arguing for his own life to be put at risk.]

Okay, but let it be said for the record that you volunteered.

[As for the trees...]

Well, Pan's ditched us, so who can say what trees are doing these days. It's like there are no rules anymore. Up is down, down is left, gods will let a nature cleric get eaten by a sentient pile of somewhat attractive compost.

[Goat people, he supposes, can be many things.

Bloody idiots, for one. From the shelter of a doorway, he watches Donn run back and forth for a few minutes; at least, right up until the path of his flight calls for intervention. Even if running isn't his forte, he can still put on a good burst of speed when the occasion calls for it, palms slick with sweat and breaths heaving in and out between shouts.]

Have you lost your mind?! Watch where you're going!

[Because, bucko, that sure is a set of stairs on the road ahead- unobscured from the angle Barry runs towards him from, but to Donn? Utterly obscured by wavering clockroaches.]

Huh? What?

[More shallow gasps than words, brown eyes wild and dark as he briefly snaps back to the here and now, hooves scrabbling for balance. Torn between stopping and running even faster, not out of any clear and decided thought but simply caught up in the momentum of the moment, the burning curiosity driving him onward. There's a whole swarm of those things up ahead, terrifying and incredible, compelling above all else.

.....

But the presence of another living being, even in a whirlwind dream, is still an anchor to him; commanding attention simply because it's so precious. Distracted, Donn loses the battle with his balance and topples over onto his hands and knees, thankfully before he can dash headlong down the stairs. Each breath like a roaring river in his ears, Donn wheezes instead of speaking, narrow chest heaving. Still staring at the swarm, the strange pull they have over him barely muted.]

But....but they're right there!

Yeah- and so's a nice fucking drop! [He-- probably wouldn't have caught up with the kid- literal kid, from the looks of him- if he hadn't fallen down first. Barry thinks of a few disasters he's seen in the past; idiots who thought they could ride their horse down a flight of stairs like a mattress surfing pro.

His stomach turns.]

Look- and take a real good look- are you sure they're actually there? [Crouching down, he puts a hand on Donn's shoulder, eyes sweeping across the worryingly empty space around them.] Not that, uh, there isn't something out there, just- something's not right, here.

And until we know what that is, chasing a bunch of shadows isn't the best move, you get me?

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TEST DRIVE MEME ( 010 )

donn | original | bring me all your goat puns

flower you doing that?

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flower

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you are the goatman, I am the walrus, goo goo g'joob

goo goo g'joob, everything is terrible

coo coo k'joo don't die????