TEST DRIVE MEME ( 014 )

[lifeaftr_mods]

Test Drive Meme #14

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 August 17th, and Applications on August 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.

One Magic Night
The waves are aglow. That might not be the first thing you notice when you wake, but it will probably draw your attention at some point: the way the sea foam glistens with an effervescent light as it rinses the beach in a crystalline, deep blue shimmer. Further out, lurid explosions of color ripple soundlessly beneath the waves - an underwater fireworks show. The atmosphere is peaceful, a blissed-out calm to suit the lazy lap of the surf-spray against the sand. Maybe turning around will shed a little more light on the situation. What this is, in fact, is the echo of a celebration that was held on Ensō back in June. Torches and campfires crackle with a merry, companionable blaze, and there is food and drink in abundance - including some of the alcoholic persuasion, for those of you who are over the age of twenty-one.

There is, naturally, all sorts to do in a celebration like this. Friendly sparring matches have sprung up along the shoreline; beach cushions and blankets decorate the party site; coconut shells laden with bioluminscent body paint can be dipped into at will, if you fancy shining like a glowstick throughout the artificial night.

Just because you've got no idea how you got here doesn't mean you can't enjoy a good party while it lasts, right?

Growing Pains
The island you've ended up on today is very, very beautiful, particularly if you're a botanist: it's covered in flowers of all sorts. They grow in rich clumps, seemingly at odds with any sense of convention. Here, you can find common dandelions flowering alongside tropical strelitzias, snowdrops spangled beside water lilies. No matter the impossibility of it, despite the discrepancies of seasons and temperatures in which these specimens should be blooming, you'll find that nearly every species can be found represented, flowering in tandem. It's gorgeous. Breathtaking, even.

There's only one problem.

That problem being that the flowers are growing out of you as well. As might be obvious, this is not exactly a pleasant sensation. There is, in fact, a full list of rather painful symptoms that has been very well-documented of late. All you have to worry about in particular, however, is what has caused these flowers to take root in you in the first place:

Lies.

Is there something you need to get off your chest? Some confession that's aching to be made? Some guilt or regret that you've repressed, that's been dragging you down for years?

Then you'd better get to it. Those flowers aren't leaving unless you spill. And if you'd rather not, well...they're more than happy to fertilize the earth with what's left of you.

Hoo Ha Ha
Stop us if you've heard this one: you and some stranger wake up on a boat. There are no landmasses in sight, and nothing as far as the eye can see but lapping waves and a peaceful, periwinkle, cloudless sky. It's good weather for sailing. Perfect, in fact. There's even a tight breeze that might helpfully guide you along.

The punchline, of course, is the fact that you're surrounded by sharks. Sorry, did we say sharks? We meant tigersharks, of the most literal sort possible. Part fish and part feline, these dual-headed beasts are summarily more naturally carnivorous and more aggressive than your bog standard tigers or sharks. They're wickedly fast in the water, and just as lethal on land.

And they're currently trying to climb aboard; armed with four sharp-clawed legs, they're more than capable of doing exactly that unless you can fend them off.

---

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

Comments

beauregard | critical role s2 | i'll match your format!

[lesbeau]

i. one magic night

[See, most people at these parties might be taking it easy. Parties are times to relax. Times to chill and eat and drink. And well, to her credit, Beau has accomplished one of those things- she is absolutely, incredibly getting that drink. It takes less than five minutes from her arrival to figure out the alcohol is free and under an hour before she is fucked up and on that shoreline, some sort of wooden staff with a blue ribbon on top clearly brandished. She's also yelling at whoever comes near.]

Okay, who's next?? Come on, there's sparring, right, who wants to try it? I'll even arm wrestle, gimme something, this is supposed to be a party!

[She won't hit... super hard. Not hard enough to kill probably. But she looks a little too enthusiastic about this for the unsteadiness of her feet.]

ii. growing pains (cw: body horror)

[Out of all the dreams she's had, this one has to be the worst- and most realistic. She's sitting cross-legged, an open wound on her arm where a half-torn apart flower is still hanging from her bicep, the green tendrils spread over and under her skin on her veins. It's making it hard to reach the one on the back of her shoulderblade that she seems to be struggling to get to under her coat. There's more, too- buds she can only feel on her legs, those vine-green tendrils snaking up over her left hip, and she mostly just looks pissed.

Beau holds her messed left arm with her right, pushing on the elbow to reach further, but her fingertips only graze the top of the flower's stamen. After some grunts as she tries, she relents, dropping her hands with a groan and meeting the eyes of whoever's nearby.]

Hey! You! Lend a girl a hand, will ya? You can keep the flower if you can get it.

[She doesn't seem as bothered as she should be, but she's pretty good at holding it together.]

i :>

[kenku]

(Yeah, you wanna go??? Well, here's your next opponent: it's a wee bird in a cloak, and she's got a knife.

Kiri brandishes it threatening, puffing herself up as round and as fluffy as she can go. She's not sure why Beau wants to fight. Beau, like the rest of her group, have always specifically tried to keep Kiri out of fights– oh, except for training purposes! Maybe this is a lesson! Either way, she faces Beau... up (because she's much much taller) and shouts:)

Go fuck yourself!

GOD

[lesbeau]

[Oh, shit, when did Kiri get here? Shouldn't she have a babysitter or something? Or like, one that's not Beau. She cannot be left responsible for a child, especially not like this. Whoops.]

Oh shit. But hey, that's the spirit! Though, uhhh, you're a little too short to ride this whole... thing.

[She'll give her a little noogie to punctuate it.]

Just remember: only stab the stuff we tell you to. Let me start all the fights.

i

[technicallytechnically]

[Jester, meanwhile, doesn't drink. She's had alcohol before, she just doesn't like it too much. And the milk here is a little weird, you know, it doesn't taste like cow milk, but it's her favorite so she drinks it anyway. It's not bad, of course. Just different.

That's all forgotten when she hears Beau's voice drunkenly gearing up for a fight. She didn't know Beau was invited to this party! Jester leaves her milk and rushes over to Beau, assuming a fighting position.]

Beau!! Are you ready for round two!! I've been super working out and I bet I can beat you this time!

[lesbeau]

[Jester is Beau's accountabilibuddy, except she's also enabling her absolute hell while she's stumbling and wasted, so what's the good in that frankly. It's fine. This is fine.

Jester rushes over and Beau immediately looks charged, swinging her staff around and planting her feet squarely in the sand.]

Yes! I am literally always ready! You-- you are going down.

[She points her staff forward menacingly. She should probably remember this was supposed to be a friendly sparring match, but what if... actual fighting. Maybe.

Jester, you should really ask for a safe word here.]

Come at me!

[technicallytechnically]

[Thankfully, as Beau gears up for the fight with her staff, Jester suddenly waves her arms in a gesture to stop this nonsense.]

Wait, wait! I thought this was a fistfight, Beau! You can't use your staff unless you want me to use my handaxe!!

[...Or she's just really concerned about the ground rules here, whichever.

But even Jester's not so caught up in Beau's energy she's going to use a chopping weapon against her. This is supposed to be friendly!]

Maybe I can use the blunt end!!

[Jester pulls out her handaxe and flips it so the back is facing her friend. Jester, please stop contradicting the narration.]

[lesbeau]

[Jester's just willing to roll with it, but as soon as the axe comes out (even if Jester is doing her best here), she realizes She Doesn't Want To Get Hit With An Axe and lowers her staff.]

Oh! Oh, right, yeah. Unarmed, no, no, I can make that happen. No sharp stuff.

[She almost just drops her staff into the ocean, remembers she needs that, and puts it back on her back instead before settling back into a fighting stance.]

Okay, round two, no axes this time or, uh, ever, come AT me!

[technicallytechnically]

[Jester has the gall to look disappointed when Beau places the staff onto her back, but still, she follows suit, hooking the handaxe back at her hip. She resumes her fighter's stance, but it's all wrong, toes pointed inward, fists too close together.

Then she lets out a guttural battlecry, charging straight towards Beau, winding up a punch as she goes, and throwing a wide haymaker straight towards Beau's face. If she connects, whether it's with nose or defensive forearm, she'll cast Inflict Wounds for added effect.]

i

[errantdetective]

[Toby holds up her hands. She can absolutely hold her own in a fight, especially against someone who is, as far as she can tell, human, but she has secrets to keep, and sparring with a human seems like a good way to reveal that she isn't fully mortal herself. Her illusions might disguise the points of her ears and the strangeness in her eyes, but covering up how fast she heals would take a lot more skill with illusions than she possesses.]

I'll stick with nothing more dangerous than rock-paper-scissors, thanks. I like it when my parties don't involve anyone bleeding.

[Rare as that is for her.]

[lesbeau]

Booooo.

[Beau is in fact human, but considering she's in a crop top with no sleeves, it's apparent she's pretty fuckin' ripped. While she may not cut the most intimidating silhouette, she certainly looks like someone who is plenty dangerous.]

You're not going to any fun parties then. All the best ones involve at least one fight. Or a drinking contest. Shit, has there been one of those yet? We are really missing an opportunity here.

[errantdetective]

Believe me, I've been to that kind of party. I'll take ones without fights these days.

[Even though, if she's being honest, she likes fighting better than socializing with fae nobility. That doesn't mean she hopes for them. Maybe. Usually.]

I could handle a drinking contest, though.

[Considering her metabolism, it takes constant drinking to remain even slightly buzzed. It's not always a good thing, but it does come in handy for drinking contests.]

[lesbeau]

[She laughs a bit, crossing her arms.]

Anyone who picks the contest means they have an upper hand, I bet.

[Man, why is Nott not here? Beau was the one who really whiffed it in Hupperdook. Everybody else had a pretty good run.]

But it-- it can't just be a drunkenness thing. It's like a speed thing. So it's fair. You get me?

[She's making gestures with her hands to help illustrate this, but they're mostly a lot of turning her wrists over one another in a circular motion and not a lot of things that make any sense.]

[errantdetective]

Like a hot dog eating contest with beer?

[That sounds like the worst idea ever. It wouldn't kill her, but she'd worry about her human competition. She shakes her head.]

No thanks. This is gonna be bad enough for my liver without adding speed to the occasion.

ii. just know that im awful but so was this prompt

[mollymocked]

Y'know, I didn't think flowers would grow on anything so salty.

[Hey look it's the Obnoxious One who sounds far less cheerful than he normally would about getting Beau's goat. This is probably due to the fact that he's in just as awful shape. His coat covers the worst of it, but his chest is a beautiful-yet-awful collection of veiny tendrils budding into deep purple flowers. And his lavender skin has a bit of an unhealthy pallor. He flops dramatically down beside her and gives her arm a long hard look.]

So, what do you think? Should we trade or should we just start hacking limbs off and see where it gets us?

[He's joking, but he also considered it... very briefly. He needs both his arms thank you. But he also needs to not become mulch.]

Y E S BRING ME HELL

[lesbeau]

[She just rolls her eyes at him, giving him a look like so are you gonna do it or not. It's nice that it's this... normal. That they can be this normal when they're both utterly and completely fucked.]

Yeah, well, flowers don't normally grow on meat, either, so here we are.

[Beau leans back on her good arm, twisting her hip to look over at him and only wincing a little as it moves one of the flowers there, the growth taking a stab into her side as a result.]

This is literally some novel level torture shit. Like, yeah, you're gonna die, but instead of using a sword or something you have to talk about yourself. How does that even work?

[She's frustrated, but slowly accepting this. She just doesn't like it, and is going to complain a bit.]

Like, it doesn't even make any sense.

[mollymocked]

Well, living meat. [He wrinkles his nose.] Ugh, I'm banning the word "meat" from this conversation from here on out. Let me see it. [He doesn't wait for her to actually give him her arm before he takes it in his hands, though at least he's gentle about it... For as bunch as one can be gentle pinching at the tendrils under the skin with sharp fingernails.]

So if your options are "die and become the angriest flower garden in the world" or "talk about yourself," you're gonna go with the flowers?

[Said Molly who is also clearly not starting a sharing circle to deal with his budding problem. Hah.]

[lesbeau]

[She finds it in herself to snicker just a little bit. Meat. It's better if it's funny. Her giggles are cut off by a little hiss as he tries to remove the plant, though, feeling the stem much much deeper than she'd like.]

I mean, when you put it like that, I kinda sound, uh, really stupid. It's not like that. I mean, it's kind of like that. Shit.

[Surprise, she's being, uh, really goddamn stupid right now.]

Look, I just-- I can't say it's bullshit when it is? I don't even know what to talk about. Like, what, these flowers really want me to go into the issues I have with my father or something? If somebody had a knife to your throat and told you to reveal an emotional secret could you think of anything?

ii!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[potential]

[ Beneath his many layers, Caleb has a vast, dizzying array of greenery breaking through his skin. When he coughs, he's expelled a petal or two. It should feel more dire than it does, but all Caleb's left with is an unsettling sense of the unreal as a buffer between himself the encroaching sense that something is very wrong within his body.

If he shucked off his coat and actually surveyed the damage, there would likely be no stopping the panic. But he can settle into denial now, when the worst of it is some soggy petals and the single flower poking it's way out from between the folds of his scarf. Beauregard, with her bare arms, is less able to conceal the progression of buds. Caleb's fingers feel stiff, but he heaves himself up off the grass to be of service. ]

I don't need to keep it.

[ He's growing plenty of his own at the moment, it seems. ]

Will you hold still while I try to get it out?

[ Though the prospect of pulling it out sparks immediate, queasy unease. Is this going to hurt her? Will she bleed if he tugs this from her skin? He hesitates, gripping her shoulder momentarily to steady himself. Don't throw up, he tells himself. Definitely do no throw up. ]

!!!!! OMG HI

[lesbeau]

[None of them are doing well. Beau has a lot of questions here- how this happened, why it's happening, why her subconscious came up with such a horrifying way to kill her- but she's got no answers. Seriously, is this her conscience pissed that she isn't sharing enough? A jab at more recent events? All of it's unfair and she's going to ride that anger to stave off the fear of actually dying until it backs her into a corner.

But she nods as he approaches, crossing her legs and leaning forward, dragging her busted arm with her good one to show her back to him.]

Yeah. I can handle it, don't worry, just.. do whatever. If you can't get the stem, maybe burn it.

[The one in her arm is damaged, but the cut open part of her bicep reveals the tendril is far in there, another sprig already starting to split off with intent to sprout. She sighs, trying to straighten herself up, but quickly gives in to allow herself to slump instead.]

They keep comin' back. No matter what.

hELLO

[potential]

[ Even though these are flowers, not weeds, Caleb has the momentary, delirious thought that he must yank it out by the root. But what would doing that do to Beau's veins? There's some strange magic at work here, but Caleb hasn't managed to dispel it.

Or wake up. He is no longer so sure where the lines between dreams and reality lie. This is hardly so far-fetched. If it's a curse, it's an effective one. ]

I don't want to hurt you.

[ So that's a "no" on the fire, then. He's unwilling to skirt too close to using flame practically on Beau's skin. It feels like tempting fate, especially when his limbs feel heaving and his fingers clumsy. There are flowers slipping from beneath his cuffs. Avoidance is only going to get him so far. He gives a gentle tug on the flower Beau indicated, frowning. ]

Can you feel that?

[ If Caleb thinks too much about this, he might throw up. That's the true danger here. ]

im so glad to see a caleb around i love him

[lesbeau]

[She's honestly waiting for it to hurt. Sometimes you get into shit and there's something inside you that shouldn't be and you just-- grit your teeth and deal with it. She got herself into this mess, somehow, she can't be bothered with gentleness to get her out of it.

Caleb tugs and she's thankful she's angling her face away from him to conceal the way she bites at her lip.]

Only a little, it's, uh. It's not a big deal. Seriously, I can handle it, it's fine.

[Is it?? Is it Beau?? She takes a deeper breath, trying to steady herself.]

Can you like, cut it? Or something?

ii

[wyrmling]

That looks like it hurts.

[ There's a soft voice of what looks like a small girl. She's of a hard-to-tell age, somewhere between five and seven and dressed in what must have been an adult person's tunic. She looks rather concerned. ]

I don't think you should be removing them like that.

[ She has a few as well, sprouting buds in her black hair - snowdrops, by the looks of it. ]

[lesbeau]

[Most people would probably have reservations to asking a kid to possibly seriously injure someone. And to her own credit, she has some. A little bit. But she also advocated giving a knife to a four year old, so maybe it's not enough.]

I mean. Gotta get 'em out.

[She is realizing maybe this isn't the lesson to be teaching a kid, but she's gotta get through this somehow.]

Do you have any better ideas?

[wyrmling]

[ Bright doesn't exactly seem to mind, instead looking thoughtful, as if she's trying to come up with a better solution. ]

Don't they just grow back if you tear them away?

[ So far she hadn't dared touch hers, even if they made her scales twist painfully in her true form. ]

Can a cleric do something? Um... maybe druid?

[lesbeau]

[She cranes an eyebrow at them, waving her hand a little.]

Do I look like either of those things? Or like, where to get one? I don't know, all I know is I'm missing my cleric squad so I have to make do and that involves getting these things out asap.

[She tries to give them a little grin, but it's... mmmm. Bad.]

I'm tough. Don't worry. I can handle like, a lot of pain. I get the shit kicked out of me on the reg.