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.

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[There's a flash of something between amusement and exasperation in his face that Ignis can't see but might be able to pick up on in the huff of his breath before he shakes his head. A shift and he spins, turning nearly a full circle to follow Ignis' movement and use the momentum of the turn to heave the sword at his target. He doesn't expect it to connect, Ignis is too fast for that. Ardyn is too fast for that. But the momentum carries him closer and he dismisses his sword the same moment it would've connected, charging forward another few steps with his shield now instead, aiming to slam it into the other man where he would naturally have evaded. As long as Gladio has predicted the distance correctly that is.

If he can at least get a hit or two in on Ardyn it should be enough to get him to drop the guise. Or at least he's hoping to.]

[The most frustrating part is that mentally, Ignis can picture the two-fold attack as Gladio performs it. Between the sounds and their experiences fighting back-to-back, he knows exactly where it is going. Completely dodging the second part, however, requires either vision or a precision he has yet to regain. That he manages to reduce the contact from a full on blow to a glancing one is something, but the contact is still enough to send crashing backward into the ground, his breath knocked out of him, daggers flying from his hands and then winking out of existence in a flash of blue crystal as they return to the armory.]

Enough, Gladiolus!

[No matter how hard Gladio looks for the flicker of an illusion, he will see nothing. Ignis' voice is frustrated and pained, but despite being sideswiped by a raging behemoth, his appearance remains unchanged.]

We have few medical supplies as it is and I have no intention of wasting any of them or Noctis' magic on myself.

[Of all the things to convince him it's not that there's no flicker of illusion so much as the note of exasperation under the command. The fact that his concern is for the burden he might put on supplies which, he's pretty sure, wouldn't even occur to Ardyn.

Dark eyes go wide and then he's rushing to Iggy's side, skidding to a stop and dropping to one knee as he goes.]

Shit! [He reaches out to help pull the other into a sitting position, hand smoothing down one arm to make sure he didn't do anything as stupid as breaking something.]

Iggy. Dammit, I'm sorry. I- [A soft growl of frustration at himself.] How did we get separated from Noct?

Oh, stop that! Honestly, I'm not made out of glass!

[Ignis still sounds frustrated, but there's a fondness in his tone now. Nothing's broken or even bleeding, fortunately, though he will be feeling that collision for a few days.

Now that he's closer to Ignis and not trying to cut him into pieces, Gladio may notice a few things that don't quite fit with the Ignis he knows. For one, his scars certainly don't look a decade old. If he looks close enough, he might even notice a fine webbing of white lines that run down his neck, disappearing under his jacket collar. They will eventually fade completely since they weren't created by the Ring, but they certainly look as if they match those on his face. He wears no visor either, just an old, familiar pair of sunglasses.

And his hair? Man, be a bro and don't bring it up. He's not had to wear it like this since he was a teen!]

Separation is what this place does. It fancies grabbing people from important tasks and dropping them where it wishes.

[His voice grows softer then and he tilts his head so that he can look over the top of his sunglasses at Gladio with his blind right eye.]

Please, will you tell me now what the last thing you remember before coming here is?

[Iggy can say what he wants but Gladio would never forgive himself if he hurt him. Really hurt him. For the first time he was actually glad Ignis was almost too fast for him to hit.

The familiar way Ignis tilts his head to give Gladio such an earnest look over his glasses is like a punch to the gut, a reminder of the man he'd been so many years ago.]

Ifrit. [A heavy sigh as he settles more comfortably next to Ignis, still examining him closely.] We're... supposed to be walking into the Citadel right now.

All of us.

Of course...

[There's a sadness to that answer. It's almost as if he's resigning himself to something and maybe he is. Always the one farthest back. Always the one who knows more than he should.

Always the one who can do nothing about what he knows.]

We'll all get there one day. Noct has said as much.

[Ardyn as well, but that's one bag of cats best left closed for another time.]

For now, that day is a long way off for me. Altissia is the last thing I remember. I was brought here not long after Noct finally woke up.

Oh... [So that meant Ignis didn't know about all of the tension that followed Noct's awakening. Is that the sort of thing he should tell him? Felt kind of like lying if he didn't, somehow. Lie of omission or whatever.]

Well then you missed out on us being shitheads at each other.

[There, explanation enough, guilt alleviated.]

We've been waiting ten years to get there and things were finally- Ugh. [It's half sigh and half growl of frustration.]

[Gladio!

Fortunately, the admission just makes Ignis snort softly behind one hand, a hand he eventually drops and pats his friend on the arm with.

Despite how upset Ignis was when he initially heard about the idea he may have been left behind after his injuries, he doesn't feel that upset now. Perhaps meeting back up with Noctis has solidified in his mind just how narrow a chance it was to begin with.]

So I've been told. Prompto's the one who's lived through it. I'll let him scold you for being a fool.

[Oh no, Chocoboy scoldings! What will Gladio do?]

If it calms your heart any, while we are gone, the world we leave behind freezes and awaits our return. I've experienced as much myself when I was briefly sent back. The final battle will wait for you. For now, I'm sure seeing the sun will be nice, won't it?

[He knows a little of the long darkness that awaits them thanks to Ardyn and though he lives in darkness now, he still can feel the sun as it journeys through the island's day. Gladio hasn't had that pleasure in far too long.]

[Look he knows he owes Prompto an even bigger apology for that shit than he did Noctis. He was picking fights just so he didn't feel so powerless and Prompto had taken the brunt of that in the worst way.]

Time freezes? How- [Oh why is everything about this so complicated? But then how can he question that when they just defeated a god.

Okay so Shiva helped.]

The sun? [It's soft and almost painfully hopeful, his hand moving to grip Ignis' arm firmly as though the very idea makes him doubt the reality of this world even more.] Really?

I wish I knew. I'm not sure if the Storyteller even knows the hows. It's just like one of those facts you grow up knowing, but no one can tell you why it is that way.

[He's always hated facts like those and he doesn't like it much better now.]

Come now, would I tease you about something like that?

[Ignis gives him a fond look, raising a hand to return the grip Gladio has on his arm.]

If it makes it easier for you to believe, we had to fight for this sun too. Fortunately, our time in darkness didn't last 10 years.

Heh, alright I'll give ya that. [Ignis wouldn't tease, not about something like that. Even if he hadn't been there to experience it.

He should let go, release his hold on Ignis' arm, but he just relaxes his grip, hand resting heavily against his friend's arm. For now, at least, everyone's alive... safe. It was more than he expected for any of them, going into that fight.]

Storyteller? That the guy in charge around here or something?

[There was as time when Ignis was much more...prickly, one could say, about touch, but that time ended very quickly after he lost his vision. Now he takes comfort in the weight of Gladio's hand. It's good to have him back; his steady, grounding presence has been greatly missed.]

'They' is probably a better word than 'he' or 'she.' Unlike the Astrals, the Storyteller doesn't seem to have much in the way of gender. They always appear in one animal form or another. The form they choose has never been anything close to humanoid. It's quite fascinating actually...

[Ignis trails off then, suddenly chuckling and adjusting his sunglasses in a slightly embarrassed manner. Got a little off on a tangent there.]

To answer your question, yes and no. When we first arrived, the Storyteller was the only being of power we knew of. Even they seemed to think they were the one in charge, but as the months have passed, we've learned that's really not the case or at least not as much as they would think. If anything, I would say they are something of a young god, which is strange considering how old they are and the fact they were apparently sleeping for a great deal of time before we began arriving.

Great so everything's being overseen by some baby god? [No wonder it sounds like everything's a clusterfuck.]

So do they actually help out or is it just, I dunno, they show up when they feel like it? Though... shit if they're always using animal forms you might not even know he's there, huh? [He was trying so hard to stay gender neutral. Oops.]

[He'll get there. It takes getting used to.]

Something like that. I wonder if perhaps some of that will change once they regain more strength. We meet with them approximately once a month to tell them stories of our time here. That helps restore their strength. In turn, they give us things we ask for. It's how Prompto got his chocobo, for instance, and I came to have this.

[Ignis pushes back his sleeve to reveal a rather solid looking bracelet, something totally not his usual style.]

It was gotten for me as a gift from the Storyteller and has been enhanced let me read written word. It can also alert me to certain emergency beacons I might miss otherwise.

Story teller gets strength from stories? Huh... that's kinda cute.

[Ignis shows off the bracelet and Gladio reaches for his arm, drawing it up so he can look at it a little more closely. Definitely not Iggy's style but if it really is as enchanted as all that it's worth it.]

It lets you read? How- uh... I mean. [A soft, sheepish kind of laugh and he releases Ignis' arm to shove a hand through his hair in embarrassment.] Not to be an ass or anything but how's that work?

Indeed. A fitting name for one I would deem a god of stories.

[Ah, but if that sheepish laugh isn't familiar. Once Gladio's released his arm, Ignis gives him a gentle punch to the shoulder before moving to pull a folded letter from his jacket pocket. Once unfolded, the water-stained note might look familiar to Gladio. That is, if he can recall a note he wrote and left for someone over ten years ago.]

While you can, in fact, be an arse, I will let it slide this time.

[He settles the note as flat across his leg as he can and then holds the arm with the bracelet over it.]

Put your fingers lightly on the gem, if you would, and then let me know when you're ready.

[A free pass from Iggy? What?

He'll take it.]

You... still have...? [It hasn't been that long for Ignis, though. It's been a matter of months but even then for him to have kept the note, and kept it on him hits Gladio hard, leaves him feeling guilty for the distance he's let grow between them over the years.

He has to clear his throat before he can speak again and even "lightly" resting his fingers on the bracelet there's a weight to the touch that he can't help, his thumb resting on Ignis' wrist below the bracelet.]

Yeah. Go ahead.

Of course. I have Prompto's as well.

[Ignis doesn't know how the three of them drifted apart during the darkness, but he can sense something off in Gladio's manner. Emotions have never been the easiest thing for any of them to handle, so he just assumes the Shield is struggling with the sentimental nature of his action. It's probably best not to mention that having Gladio's note when he returned to the island was actually more comforting than having Prompto's. It was like having a small piece of his missing friend with him.]

Are you familiar at all with Braille? I dabbled a little bit before we left just in case. You know how I am.

[He just never thought he would be putting it to use for the reason he is.]

I believe there is some kind of translation magic that affects the whole island and this place by extension, since I never learned enough to be able to read as fluently as I do. Once I trigger the scan, you're going to feel the words translated into Braille and scrolled along the face of the gem much like an electronic display might scroll written word. Lets begin.

[There will be no visual indication of Ignis mentally triggering the magic needed to scan the letter, but after a few seconds Gladio will feel the words, translated into Braille, scroll along the face of the gem his fingers are resting on. Oddly enough, even if he doesn't know Braille, he will find he can understand what is being said.]

There are a few people on the island who are mute or only communicate through visual means. The bracelet was originally a way for me to be able to communicate with them. I had the abilities widened a few months later when I realized the Storyteller could likely allow me to read with it as well.

[Gladio nods along, humming an affirmative when he remembers that Ignis can't see the motion. Right, so that makes sense in a weird kind of way.]

'Course I know about Braille. You... well you end up getting real good at it, if that helps. [Maybe? Probably not but it might be reassuring to know that he does learn to cope.

Even expecting it, having the braille begin scrolling along under his finger tips makes him gasp, hand jerking away for a brief moment before he places them back on the stone. His thumb, resting on Ignis' wrist, twitches, vaguely tracing out the letters without him realizing he's doing it, translating the dots and bumps into something more familiar, even though his brain can understand it just fine thanks to the magic.]

That is... either really cool or kinda scary, maybe both?

Of course I do. It would hardly be in character for me not to master something I set my mind to.

[A small flash of his old cockiness appears for a moment. Despite his words, it is comforting to have that reassurance. Learning--gathering knowledge--it's such a large part of who he is. If he lost the ability to do that forever...

He'd rather not think about it, truth be told.]

Generally, with things like this, it's better just to go with both. Flexibility is such an important skill to keep limber, after all.

[Yes, that is a very bad joke. Enjoy.]

[He's nodding along with what Ignis is saying, yes certainly. Learning and flexibili-

wait

wait

Gladio groans loudly, shoving at Iggy's shoulder and making exaggerated noises of disgust.]

That's low even for you!

[Ignis doesn't resist the push, swaying back and laughing as hard has he has in quite some time. He has to admit, that was a pretty bad one, but it just slipped out. It was an accident. He promises!

Right.

Once he's stopped laughing, he shrugs and then pats the ground he's sitting on.]

Well, I am pretty low right now. Can't get much lower than this.

[He supposes he could lay down, but that doesn't really appeal that much at the moment. This is certainly no haven.]

Keep makin jokes like that and you'll be six feet under.

[And since he's letting Gladio push him around...

Beware Iggy there is a noogie incoming unless you squirm away. No product means he can do this without ruining your hair. ]

[Wait! Wait! No fair! Abort! Abort! How dare you, Gladio! He trusted you!

Ignis tries to pull himself free of Gladio's grasp, but the hands that push and lightly punch at the other man's chest have little force behind them. Besides, it's not like his hair can be in much worse shape that it already is in.

Once Gladio's got the noogie out of his system, Ignis tilts his head up, newly disheveled hair sticking out in all directions. Still, his expression is serious as he lifts a hand toward Gladio's face.]

May I?

[The feel of the Kingsglaive uniform under his fingers makes him realize, quite suddenly, that the mental image he has of his friend is ten years out of date. It's something he'd like to rectify.]

[It's all Gladio can do not to laugh at Ignis, his hair being the wreck that it is. It's nice to see him anything less than perfect.

The question, though, catches him off guard a bit. When's the last time Ignis asked to do this? The last time he even bothered to preface it with a question and not just running his fingers over his face to make sure there weren't any new scars.

He leans in, bumps his cheek against Ignis' outstretched fingers.]

Yeah, of course.

[For this Ignis, though, there would be plenty more scars, worry lines deep in his brow, his beard less trimmed and thicker, never mind the vast difference in his hair.]

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