TEST DRIVE MEME ( 010 )

[lifeaftr_mods]

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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Comments

c:!!!!!!!!!

[hyperlit]

[Verified.]

[Solid, therefore real. Therefore alive. Decidedly non-hostile, as it has grasped their hand in return, the way Ren clutches at them when she hums under her breath or is otherwise content. The clasping of another’s hand is seldom enacted in a hostile context.]

[The issue then becomes how best to proceed. The things at their heels, shadowing them with an eerie persistence, do not disperse readily. Perhaps they can be outran.]

[The Drifter begins to move, slowly at first, tugging at the other poor soul’s hand as they go. This way, this way.]

o(^▽^)o

[ruere]

[ It's difficult to keep up, even slow as their pace begins. There's still a faint but sharp pain just above his right knee, but for the life of him he can barely remember why. And he's not the fastest runner in the first place, so everything combined surely makes for an awkward situation for this kind stranger, someone who certainly didn't need to wade into this darkness and risk their own safety just to retrieve him.

But he'll be more concerned about expressing gratitude after they've made their way out of this mess. Right now, he can only concentrate on trying to keep up, one foot in front of the other (trying to keep from stumbling as best he can,) and keep his grip on the stranger's hand tight.

He's fairly certain he'd be at a complete loss if he were to let go. The stranger could keep running, find a way out of this place, only to discover his companion no longer behind him - would they turn back?

Whether unlikely or not, Wander doesn't want to find out. He holds on as best he can manage, using his free arm to keep swatting and batting the creatures swarming around them, and hopefully they will find a way out soon. ]

[hyperlit]

[Now see, they set about verifying the reality of the other party before they’d had an actual course of action well and truly set in stone. Once they’ve done so, they have no idea how best to proceed other than to pick a direction and simply start walking. Lup had guidance in the form of a spool of red string, but the Drifter has nothing of the sort. Nothing but their own intuition and sense of direction - neither of which are proving terribly helpful here.]

[So instead they glance back at the stranger they’ve elected to aid. The sprite bobbing a foot or so away from them, just a few inches above their shoulder, utters a muted chime as it projects a pale pink HUD that inputs a line of block-like text:]

injured?

[ruere]

[ It's at least some sort of plan - get up, pick a direction, start going - and that's more than Wander could've come up with on his own. He could barely get up to his feet on his own. So this ... this is progress, no matter how small.

The noise startles him, a different sound that breaks through the muted and muffled silence, but once he sees the message appear he knows it's not dangerous.

... though it does take him a moment or two longer than most others to read the message. It's not a skill he's particularly good at. In... injur-- oh. Injured.

Wander shakes his head, though his expression isn't entirely one of certainty. He's lost and confused, he had been shot with an arrow and stabbed with a sword, but neither of those wounds seem to have been brought here with him. Aside from a vague and lingering soreness, there's nothing to be of much concern there. ]

[hyperlit]

[Alas, this sort of communication block appears to be lamentably common. When one’s vocal cords have been ravaged beyond repair by the illness poisoning your blood, it limits your ability to vocalize much besides the odd cough of air. For however few here seem to parse the need for text to speak, even fewer know how to speak with hands. They’ve learned not to assume.]

[The Drifter points. The stranger may simply be disoriented, but he carries himself as though he is injured.]

limping?

[ruere]

[ Oh. Well, so much for ignoring that one.

Wander doesn't want the stranger worrying too much about him, however. It's more than enough that they've decided to help at all, but they could just be putting themselves in more danger. Whatever these bizarre creatures are, just because they haven't made a move to attack and devour them yet, that doesn't mean it's beyond their capabilities.

Again he shakes his head, though his insistance that all is well is immediately nullified by that next stumble and the way his expression twists in pain. He's fine, really. He swears.

It's not serious, at any rate. They should keep going, and Wander gives the stranger's hand a gentle tug - this way? ]

[hyperlit]

[He is far from fine. If the Drifter could tsk in disapproval, perhaps they would. But that stalwart firmness, that resolution to press forward despite all else - that is a familiar thing. They can recognize it in another just as easily as they can in themself. Any further protest melts away. A little thing like the illness filling their lungs with their own blood, slowly and steadily killing them like a poison dripped across their soul, could never stop them.]

[Why should a limp stop this one?]

[He at least seems to have something of a vague notion as to where he wants to go. Very well. They comply easily, blade alight with a steady hum. The light doesn't scatter the shades that continue to swirl at them, but the bolt of adrenaline that each one inspires at least ensures that the Drifter will not slump over and allow the sleep to smother them alive.]

[There must be a way out.]

[Perhaps...it is the same as it was the last time, in the Water.]

look for a thread
red