aftr_ooc | TEST DRIVE MEME ( 013 )

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TEST DRIVE MEME ( 013 )

Test Drive Meme #13

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 July 17th, and Applications on July 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.

Sit Down, You're Rocking the Boat
When you wake, it's to the bucking of tumultuous ocean waves and the heavy sluice of rain. The boat you've found yourself on was probably seaworthy at some point, but it's been wind-battered and weatherbeaten to the point where it's begun, quite steadily, to sink into the choppy waves. Looks like you're all in the same, sinking vessel.

To make matters worse, it seems that the storm itself has a nasty sense of humor. It seems almost intuitive in its attempts to toss you from your footing on the deck and into the frothing waters below. Gusts of powerful wind try to tear you from the mast if you climb it, and the boat rocks perilously to try and tip you into the churning waves. Oh, and did we mention the lightning? Because there's lightning, and it seems to have a personal interest in incinerating your pitifully wooden little boat on the spot.

That doesn't mean you're completely helpless. There is an island in sight, one that resembles the waking land of Ensō, albeit somewhat far off, its silhouette fuzzy and indistinct from the curtains of rain. But if you can make it...

Well, anywhere's got to be better than here, right?

Gibbon No Quarter
It's been a year since the first adventurers were initially drawn to Mu's shores, and then, later, to Ensō's. And so, in celebration, the dream-island has cribbed only the best bits of the previous year for prospective explorers to sample on their way in.

Take now, for instance. You'll find yourself in a cage of all things, with the pound of drums and excited hoots of hungry simians to greet you upon waking. This particular breed of monkeys was once unique to Ensō, before travelers were forced to more or less thoroughly exterminate them. Devilishly smart and naturally inventive, gun monkeys are so named for their trademark weaponry - coconut guns, naturally - and their generally cunning capacity to craft tools out of very rudimentary resources.

And oh, right - they're also very carnivorous. They've set up a smoking bonfire in the center of the jungle clearing that makes up their temporary home, and if you don't figure out a way to come out of your cage (have you been doing just fine, perhaps?), then you're going to be next on the menu.

Think fast, or work with whoever's nearby, and you might have a chance. Or you could always call for help. That always works out, right?

To Be Continued
Stories, stories, stories. Anyone who's hung around the block for any length of time can tell you, dear newcomers, that those little things are of the utmost importance in this neck of the woods. There's no mistaking the purpose behind this inviting scene - log seats set up around a roaring campfire, and even a packet or two of marshmallows if you're feeling hungry.

It almost might be enough to distract you from the fact that there's no fuel for said fire. And what's more, the darkness surrounding the woodland backdrop is so impenetrable that you may as well be an isolated blot of warmth in an otherwise unforgiving void. And within that void, if you listen close, you might hear something - a snarling, an indistinct rumble of massive jaws parting, hungrily, in search of something alive.

If that flame burns out...well, something out there isn't fond of fire, and that's the only thing keeping it from claiming everyone seated here for its own enjoyment. But the good news is that there's a very easy way to keep this fire blazing well through the danger. Can you tell where this is going?

It's stories, of course. Regale us with tales of your past exploits, or with fairytales or nursery rhymes you remember from your childhood. Relay your tales of triumph and of grief, of laughter and of agony, of anything you can possibly imagine. As long as a story of some sort is being told, the fire will burn merrily onward, and the blanket of all-consuming darkness will be kept at bay.

Just try not to embellish too much. If your story is too vague, if it is more lies than it is something genuine, the fire might start to gutter dangerously low as a consequence. And that beast, whatever it is - oh, it's hungry.

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

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There is something a little familiar about it huh. In Lucretia's case it's the isolation. She's looking about herself and realising she doesn't know where her loved ones are, or whereabouts she is. Panic spikes, hard and uncomfortable in the back of her throat when she closes her eyes. Not again. Please, not again.

But she's done this before, hasn't she? Just as she's done psyching herself up, Lup's furious voice suddenly pitches over the top of the all the wind and rain and brings a relief so dizzying Lucretia nearly falls over when she tries to stand again. Or is that the ocean mercilessly shoving the boat around? And the water on her face is just the rain, that's all, it's fine, she's fine. Somebody is here.

"Lup," she calls, and grabs the edge of the ship a little harder as everything shudders in the wind, "I don't– uh, maybe don't give it reason to strike you where you stand? I wouldn't put that past it." Not when it feels like this storm is alive some how, reacting to their every move.

"Where are we?"

Lup hears her name being called over the howling of the wind and boy, maybe she should have worried a little more about people needing help and a little less about shouting at the storm, huh. She whips around and sees-- a red robed figure clinging to the railing. A moment of familiarity washes over her, of affection and relief and protectiveness, the urge to rush forward and get through whatever fucked up end of the world is currently happening, together--

And then she recognizes her voice. The voice she'd spent a decade loving and resenting in equal measure, as she lied to their family, let them go on not remembering, kept her forgotten, kept Barry in exile--

Lup stays frozen in place, face and ears sinking in dismay, until another wave nearly knocks her on her ass and she realizes hey, this is not the fucking time for any of that! Let's just try not drowning here for a bit and deal with a decade of trauma later, or maybe never.

"Hang on!" she calls back kinda unnecessarily. "If we-- I think we just gotta sail this thing! Get it out of the storm!" So like, any suggestions for how to do that would be more than welcome.

From Lucretia's point of view this is just another year and another cycle that's thrown them headfirst into whatever is happening planet-side. It's irritating, but fairly par for the course. The weather is wild enough that Lucretia's head is bowed against it; Lup's reaction to her presence goes completely unnoticed. Why should Lucretia have anything to worry about other than the immediate difficulties set in front of them? She has no idea of the storm brewing in Lup, too.

"Well yeah," she manages, and makes herself look up, up at the sky, checking, "It's either that or sit here and wait for the wind to tear us to pieces–"

She knows which she prefers. This is easier said than done. Lucretia has piloted the Starblaster before, but a ship? No dice. Still, she's read books, they've... visited watery planets before, seen people live by boat. In a moment of panic, surely she can figure out what they need to do. She wipes the water uselessly off her glasses and glances about the two of them. They need somebody to deal with the sail, and somebody to steer.

"I'll get the sail. You find some way to turn this thing toward land– where are the others??" They could really use Magnus' preposterous arm strength right about now.

In the past, Lucretia's decisiveness and determination would have filled Lup with pride. Watching her grow out of her quiet chronicler role had been a joy, how she'd learned to reach out and live in the world, fill it with a light all her own. The decades of hardship had uncovered a silent strength in Lucretia that Lup had loved and been grateful for, an ability to bend without breaking that was so sorely needed in their trials. She could stand tall on her own two feet and it was beautiful.

Now, it's like ice water in her veins. The tone of somebody who leads an entire secret organisation, is used to being obeyed. Lup would grieve how much that pride has soured, if they weren't literally about to drown unless she gets a move on. So she does, clinging to whatever railing and rope she can grab as she climbs to the back of the ship, because that's where the steering?? is?? right??

"Maybe-- on a different boat!" That sounds right. That's what it was like last time she woke up in the middle of the freaking ocean. And if this is anything like that, then-- hell yes. "Look! Land!!" she calls out, pointing off to the side at some vaguely shore-like shadows behind sheets of rain. It's totally land though, trust her on this. If they can get the sail and rudder pointed that way, they'll be off shitty Fantasy Splash Mountain in no time.

Lucretia is going to have to take Lup's word for it, because she can't see much past the rain on her glasses. This is why Lup had been advised to go steer! She is delegating. Davenport would be proud.

But wrestling with the sail is something else entirely. The wind and waves have whipped the ropes around and around until hopelessly tangled. Lucretia drops to her knees to set about pulling them apart from each other, and this at least helps to lessen the roar of the wind in her ears. Her hands are so cold though, fingers numb and useless at undoing the larger knots. She has to bring it to her mouth to use her teeth. Hopefully Lup isn't watching.

When it comes time to hoist the sail, she gives the rope a good tug and it immediately billows with air, the wet fabric smacking her hard in the face. She curses and tugs it again, giving her head a little shake as the rest of the sail finally raises to the top of the mast. Ouch. She can feel the skin bruising, but at least the boat is starting to work as intended; Lup seems to have found a rudder, or a wheel or something, because she can feel it starting to turn. Before she's knocked off her feet, Lucretia lurches over to the side and hangs on tight, wiping her glasses, ignoring the painful sting in her cheek.

"How's it going back there?"

Luckily for Lucretia, Lup's way too busy holding onto the fucking rudder for dear life to notice any difficulties she might be having. It's like trying to wrangle a wild bull, taking all her strength and determination to keep it still against the murderously churning waves, let alone force it in the right direction. Her damp hands slip off the wood more than once, nearly breaking her fingers in the process. It's not a great time and if there was even a fraction of a chance she could solve this problem by setting the whole damn boat on fire, she absolutely would. Maybe she'll still do that when they've hit land, you know, she's got options.

And despite the betrayal burning hotly in her mind, it's all too easy to depend on Lucretia, to trust she's gonna handle her part of the job to get them safely to shore. "We got this, babe!" she calls back, caught up in the rush of tag-teaming these shitty survival odds.

Turns out said shore is uhhh, suddenly rapidly approaching, as if the storm has decided if they wanna get to it so fucking badly it's really gonna put some English on them. A flash of lightning reveals jagged cliffs coming at them at top speed and Lup hastily throws the rudder to the side where, on real waking-life Enso, sloped sandy beaches should be.

"Hey so like, where's the brakes on this thing??"

It's hard not to get a little boost from the team spirit of it all, huh. Despite the uncertainty of the situation, the rain in her face and the wind whipping around the ship, Lucretia can't help but feel a little burst of wild excitement anyway and if there wasn't such a large chance of their getting smashed to pieces on some distant shoreline she might even whoop aloud. It's better than feeling scared. Then again, she hasn't felt truly scared since she spent that year alone. This action stuff doesn't get to her anymore; she's seen worse. Instead of shutting down, Lucretia has learned to step up.

Good thing too, because the ship is showing absolutely no signs of stopping. The cliff that looms up out of the darkness at them has her throwing her arms up, ready to prepare a spell, but Lup pulls and the boat shifts out of the way with a horrible creaking sound.

"I don't know!" The accelerator is the sail, right, so it should stand to reason that it also functions as the brake. Lucretia makes it back to the mast, manages to avoid the boom sweeping over the top of her, and reaches for the rope to try and collapse the sail again. It's hard work. The whole boat feels like its come alive with the storm and is wrestling against her every inch of the way.

"We might have to jump!" Would jumping into the water at this kind of speed be advisable?? Lucretia's trying to do hasty calculations in her head to try figure it out but there's a lot going on right now. She could at least shield them from the worst of the damage...

It's a lot of math and a shitty time to be doing it, for sure. Lup has about two brain cells to spare for thinking that collapsing the sail is probably a smart idea, just like every other time Lucretia's had one of those. The rest is dedicated to keeping an iron grip on the rudder and trying to see how soon they're about to be finely-ground fish fodder.

She could be wrong, here, but jumping sounds like an extraordinarily shitty solution? They'd be dashed between the waves and the boat even faster. Maybe Featherfall could work, like, could she do some cool stunts flying them out of here on the storm with the umbrella? Probably not that kinda dope ass dream, darn. But they're running out of time real fucking fast and she grits her teeth. "I don't think we--"

And then, a bomb goes off. The boat bucks and shudders catastrophically and the sound of splintering wood is so deafening Lup has to let go of the rudder to shield her ears. Of course that means she's gonna get thrown off her feet by the tilting deck and straight into the railing, gasping for air against bruised ribs. What the shit-- Through her wet hair whipping into her face, she spots a large hole in the side of the boat, some rocky outcropping still half skewering it.

Now it's a race between sinking and getting crushed. So that's cool!

"I think jumping's great! Big fan of jumping right the fuck now!"

The time for any excitement is over the moment the crash of the boat sends Lucretia flying off her feet and towards the stern. She wheezes, thoroughly winded, and glances up to find Lup only meters away, staring at something toward the bow. Lucretia doesn't need to look in order to realise what's happening: the sound of the wood crunching and the look on Lup's face says it all, really. She shoves herself to her feet, ignoring the pain. It could be worse, it could be worse, it could be worse.

"Okay," she pants, and glances over the side of the boat that she's on. The whole deck is bizarrely tilted, on an extreme slant and Lucretia is up on its highest side, so that is... out. She picks her way carefully to the other side, where Lup is pressed against the railing. "Come on, on the count of three."

The lowest side of the ship really isn't that much closer to the water. Lucretia feels a little lurch of fear in her gut, then resolves to stop looking; she reaches out and grips Lup's hand tightly, and at the same time, casts stone skin upon her. Hopefully Lup is ready to go because Lucretia decides she can't wait. She fashions a shield of faith to cover the both of them- the flick of her free hand almost lazy, moving in a motion well practiced- and then she puts her foot firmly on the railing, and jumps.

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TEST DRIVE MEME ( 013 )

hi!!! ♡

Hi I'm so excited!!!

me too!!

i'm slow but still excited :>

me too on both counts oops (sorry!)

THIRD TIME'S THE CHARM

WE GOT THIS

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