TEST DRIVE MEME ( 019 )

[lifeaftr_mods]

Test Drive Meme #19

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 January 17th, and Applications on January 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.

Let's Be Heroes
Back in December on the recent island of Maati, the Trial of the Brave was intended to challenge those who approached life with hesitation; the timid, the uncertain, and those who trend too easily toward inaction. Mu, of course, has a habit of neglecting the finer details. And thus...here you are, whether you need the intended lesson or not.

Armed with nothing more than a torch, a short sword, and the clothes on your back, you're sure to enjoy the scenic view of labyrinthine stone walls, low-hanging ceilings, sharp corners hiding all sorts of secrets, and a thick, foreboding darkness. Your light, and the torches of others making their way through the dark, are the only breaks in the seemingly uniform dark.

Those and the lights of the eyes of the other things down here with you, of course. Hidden throughout the maze are scattered innumerable creatures, all of them happy to take advantage of those wandering about on their own. Nighthooks are fiendish, shadowy monsters that appear in the shape of a long-fingered hand. While they cannot physically hurt anything, they specialize in slinking out of the darkness to snuff out any light source they can find...like your torch, for example. Also abundand are the grimlings, hulking, dog-like creatures composed of a seaweed-like blackness and glowing coals for eyes. Should you come across one, several more are bound to be nearby, as they travel in packs. And they are always hungry.

For those lucky enough not to stumble across these creatures? Enjoy your stumble through the dark. There's an exit around here somewhere, if you look hard enough. Probably.

The Waiting Game
The second trial Mu has appropriated is the Trial of the Patient. This test was named for those who exhibit the very antithesis of patience, initially intended to draw in the brash, the reckless, those easily incited into action, and so on. Instead of a dark and lengthy maze, Mu has instead concocted a brightly lit room to test your patience, and lack thereof.

So you should have no trouble at all seeing the entirety of the expansive, gaping void that stretches between you and the only way out.

Stranded on a singular ledge, the space in which you wake is white and seemingly infinite. No ceilings or walls are visible, and peering over the edge of the small platform reveals no flooring below to catch you. The only distinct characteristics to this room are the door opposite you, positioned some couple hundred feet away. There's nothing for you to grab or cling to in order to make your way over there faster. In fact, nothing else seems to help, either. Flight, teleportation, gadgets, you name it - each attempt will inevitably fail, and give you just enough time to contemplate all the ways you went wrong as you go plummeting down (or is it up?) into that endless void. What a shame. Luckily for you, this dream is happy to give you a second chance! And a third, and a fourth...and however many it takes, really. Those who fall will, just as the initial adrenaline shock starts to run out, abruptly find themselves standing right back on the platform where they started. Once again, they'll find themselves staring at that infuriating, impossible-to-reach door. Seems like you may be stuck where you are, for the time being.

We say "for the time being," because the other distinct attribute of this loosely defined room is a second platform, drifting steadily from the doorway to your position. Once it reaches you, you'll be able to climb aboard, and be safely ferried across the room to the exit you so greatly desire. Once it reaches you. Once it...well, it seems to be taking some time. A few minutes. An hour. Something in that ballpark, maybe. Got a good book on you? No? Guess you'll have to find some other way to wile away the time.

You, and whoever else you happen to be stuck with.

Water Rising
The island of Ensō is a relatively flat island, aside from a lone, steep mountain to the north. Mu is less so. It tends to mold itself to whatever shape best suits it, and in this case? It has chosen Ensō. And so that is where you find yourself - positioned at the base of its mountain, no less, only several feet up the beginnings of its slope. Unfortunately, there's not much time to take in the new scenery. Stretched out along the island's coast is a beach of glittering white sand. Further inland, the green sprawl of a jungle blots the horizon. But there's also plenty of ocean. And therein lies the problem.

Creeping through the treelines and rapidly pooling about the mountain's base, said ocean levels are rising quickly. Very quickly. Those who wish to stay and enjoy the view of an island underwater are welcome to it. For everyone else, the only other option is the obvious one: to climb.

To climb very, very quickly. As luck would have it, the rising waters aren't the only danger present. Those too slow to escape its wrath will surely drown, but the higher up you go, the thinner the air becomes, and the more searing the heat. To the west, a crop of dangerous creatures known as lungblossoms claim the wooded thickets that offer reprieve from the intense and unrelenting rays of dream-sun. A confrontation with these living plants may expose you to hallucinogenic spores fit to fill your senses with horrific, nightmarish visions, so tread lightly...but not slowly.

At the mountain's very peak, an empty temple awaits those who can make it to the end of this terrible and impromptu gauntlet. It will provide shade and a space for the exhausted survivors to congregate. Tend to yourself and others, if you like- or head back out to locate those who haven't had such luck in reaching this haven.

---

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

shiho suzui | persona 5 | ota

[suzui]

( NOTE: shiho's backstory involves sexual assault and abuse; i won't spring it on anyone, obviously, but just be aware of that! i'll warn for it if it comes up, but if you'd like to avoid that but still tag shiho, let me know at sweetstacks. )

brave.
[ Shiho Suzui, sword and torch in hand... has never looked or felt more out of place. She's not even really sure why or how she's here, but she's here and... well. She guesses she has to do this. Whatever this is. She isn't sure, and she's definitely never used a sword before.

That, and the kneebrace she's wearing makes it difficult to move as quickly as she'd like. It's frustrating, but more than that, she's scared. Being in the dark like this... it makes her muscles seize up. She wants, desperately, to get out of here.

Shiho starts to move... and she lets out a terrified shriek when something snuffs out her torch. ]

No...!

lungblossoms.
[ She manages, somehow, to make it high up. It's slow going, and her whole body aches--she hasn't recovered, after all--and she's exhausted. Her stamina isn't what it used to be, after spending so long in the hospital.

She's moving slowly, too slowly, to avoid the spores she stumbles into. Shiho lets out a startled yell, but it only makes it worse. She's breathing in a lot, and she ends up falling to her knees, hands over her ears. ]

Help-- Ann--

heroes

[phantomtrick]

[ Well, Akira's been running around by himself like a complete idiot. He's got no idea what he's doing and he's starting to feel annoyed at himself for it. This place sucks. He immediately stops what he's doing when he notices Shiho in the distance. It's that girl who goes go his school? She certainly doesn't seem well. Akira walks in closer, feeling concern.]

Hey, are you alone?

[ It's bad if she is. ]

: )

[ladytakamaki]

[ ann's been extremely active, living on the islands. that isn't to say that her muscles aren't tired and threatening to give out with all of this climbing, but ann can keep on going. right now her mind is only on getting out, surviving, not having to experience death a sixth time.

and then she hears someone call to her. a voice she knows all too well. ann's eyes widen, and her natural instinct is to look below her.

a patch of black hair, tied up in a ponytail. the shujin school uniform. shiho. ann doesn't know if this is real or not, but even when shiho was nothing more than a hallucination, ann still couldn't hold herself back from trying to save her. and she will this time. she will save her, as many times as it takes. ]

Shiho!

[ ann immediately starts backtracking. she gets down far enough, right to where she can position herself next to shiho. she doesn't know if she can pull this off, but by darn is she going to try. ]

Get onto my back if you can, I'll get us out of here!

akira (protag) persona 5 ota

[phantomtrick]

lets be heroes

[ For some reason it's like there's monsters in every corner of the room. Akira isn't sure what to do at first. He finds himself running down the hall, almost in a panic. This definitely isn't the first time he's seen a monster and it's not going to be the last either. These creatures are different from the ones he's used to and it makes him nervous. Akira arms himself with a sword and throws it at the next thing that moves. ]

Stop right there.

[ Is it a friend or another monster? He can't tell in this light. ]

waiting game


[ Akira's not a person who's known for his patience. People think he can do many things but being a man of virtue is not one of them. He clicks his tongue together in irritation, feeling rage fill his body.]

This must be a joke. Are you kidding me?

[ It's completely ridiculous. There's no way he can just keep waiting like this. By now he's started talking out loud to keep himself distracted from all of this. Everything's so white. He feels like he's about to drop dead from it.]

[feelinglikeaghost]

[ he certainly looks like a monster, with his floating skull and flaming (literally!) pink hair wafting in a cold breeze. Everything screams menacing-- except a golden heart that thrums rhythmically on his chest. Eye points that pierce through the darkness land on the human with a sword and for a moment--

..no. It isn't him. His shoulders seem to drop just a bit.

A low growl hums out of him, and he pulls the sword from the wall that Akira threw it to, and throws it back at him. Don't throw pointy objects, man. You could actually hurt someone!!! ]

akira.......

[ladytakamaki]

[ god. even in her dreams, she can't escape the trials--at least she hopes this is a dream, after all. truth be told, ann is afraid. there's something about these monsters that's so much more menacing than the shadows back in the metaverse. she's scared, and she can't even find the courage she needs to summon carmen like she should.

she happens to be running in...some direction, when she suddenly feels something land a few feet in front of her. she pauses, thinking it could be a monster. immediately she pulls out her sword... ]

...Akira? Akira!

waiting game

[thermalwind]

...of course Mu would twist it like this. [The man standing on the platform with Akira is tall, his dark hair spilling down his back in a long ponytail. His armor is futuristic with lines of violet that cast a faint violet light. He frowns at the platform slowly making its way to the other side and sighs.]

Sit down. Ask me questions about what’s going on. We’ll pass the time that way.

[He drops down and folds his legs under him.] Or you can stare at the platform and go nuts. Your choice.

waiting game

[vorpalstrike]

Tell me about it.

[ If there's anything else in this damn void to take his mind of the waiting, Kirito would gladly do it. Thankfully he wasn't the one forced to break the awkward silence when he ended up on this platform with Akira right here. ]

It's like a build up to a boss fight or something, but it's just silence and awkwardness instead.

beheaded/prisoner | dead cells | OTA

[accellerate]

a. WHAT'S WAITING

[ You know what you're supposed to do in this room? Wait.

You know what this nebulously-gendered blob piloting a corpse isn't at all accustomed to doing? Waiting.

So, whether you've just arrived in the room or you've been waiting for that platform to slowly, slowly float across, at least you get free entertainment, because the Prisoner is just rocketing themselves into the void at every possible opportunity, apparently because anything is better than standing still.

It doesn't look like they're going to stop any time soon. Or learn from the experience.

Oh, look, there they go again, taking another run-up.... ]

b. oh geez flooding

[ They might have had to fend for themselves out of necessity, and they might be desensitized to corpses, but the Prisoner isn't entirely heartless. Far from it, in fact. If you're nearby when the water starts to rise, they're probably going to grab you and drag you along regardless of comfort because it's faster and easier than trying to communicate HEY RUN THIS WAY.

It's not a comfortable journey, because they're bolting full tilt up the slope as fast as they can go, which is a fairly impressive top speed. They might not be able to die exactly, but that doesn't mean they want to lose this body too!

Or you might just spot them blazing along, their distinctive red scarf fluttering along behind them in the wind. Who knows, if you call out for help, it's likely they might backtrack to help you out.

After all, it's been a long while since they've seen a place that isn't decaying from the inside out, and even longer since they've consistently seen living people who aren't the same few faces, over and over. ]

c. wildcard?

[ sure do whatever, surprise me ]

b. you know i had to do it em

[hyperlit]

[Escaping a rising tide is not exactly what they'd planned on doing with their time, but it is at least an instinct they can well act upon: fleeing an inexorable force of nature before it swallows them whole. They're more talented at streaking along flat surfaces than they are at scaling vertical ones, but they're keeping reasonably ahead of the spray and seafoam - right up until they see a flash of red and, most alarmingly, blue skin.]

[The Drifter nearly loses their handholds and slips into the flotsam on the spot.]

[Their new goal becomes pursuing this other blue-skinned creature. They can't be - they can't be another one, can they? There can't be another one here, can there?]

[There's no other explanation.]

A!

[ninjatortle]

[At some point in the Prisoner's bungee adventure, another nebulously-gendered blob had arrived in the void. Just in time, in fact, for Eska to witness one of these head-long cliff dives. Before they can so much as blink, however, this other being is right back where they jumped from, entirely unharmed and unruffled.

Okay.

Part of the quest for enlightenment is acceptance. Sometimes you just gotta... decide "sure, this is happening." This, clearly, is one of those times. So why not? As the Prisoner gears up and takes a sprint at the edge, they may well pick up on the rumbling of a very heavy something sprinting toward the void right along with them. Wow, you wouldn't think a turtle could run like that.]

Hi! Um, why are we doing this?

Plumeria | PKMN SUN/MOON (VG)

[somedummiesarecute]

let's be heroes.

Ugh, damn it!

[ Plumeria and Salazzle are rocketing through the hall. Behind them, a giant Nighthook lumbers eagerly, it's long finger leaving a darker, if possible, trail on the ground. It makes no noise, it gives no emotion...it's a void. The void of something bad.

And nothing about it screams "Let's have a pokemon battle!"

In her other hand, a torch burns brightly, embers flickering to the floor. Salazzle makes a sound and flares up for a little more light against the ground on which she crawls. As a pair, Plumeria's always considered herself and Salazzle pretty quick, but not for long bouts. Not for as long as this could go on. They need to find a safe spot-- somewhere where she can return breathe, and think. Ugh! ]

Salazzle, Flamethrower!

[ the pokemon complies, and a bright orange flame ignites the ground and the Nighthook. A temporary wall. Through the flame, she can see the white pin-pricks of the monster's eyes. Watching. Waiting. No where to run.

But she'll keep running. Just...gotta find somewhere safe to squat for a minute. Make a plan. Catch her breath.

Damn this. ]

water rising

[ her lungs just can't seem to fill with enough air to grant her any form of physical comfort.

It took some doing-- some scratches on her fingers and one gash against her arm, but she made it up. The water beneath her pounds against the mountain, as if insisting she return to it's murky, hot depths. She takes a few steps back and then falls on her rear, bringing her arm to her chest and heaving out a thick gasp. Lungblossoms, in all their beauty, make focusing on a climb difficult. Makes a jagged rock look like someone holding a knife, or spiders crawling over her fingertips. It...it wasn't a casual climb.

Shutting her eyes brings back the nightmares, but only briefly. She shudders and brings her legs closer to her body, just trying to gather up her sanity. ]

Come on, Plumeria. [ it's chastising, but also soothing to hear. ] You're bigger than this. Better than this. All your dumb little brothers and sisters need you. Come on.

[ she slowly stands, the blood dropping down to her fingertips and onto the ground. It's fine-- just keep it close and covered, and away from anything that could get it infected. Or...more infected. Prolong life. She sighs.

The temple within sight would be a good place to start. Protesting legs wobble for the first few steps, until she stomps them each down, the spike of pressure surging up and down her legs. No more complaining. Not from any part of her body: her legs, her arm, and her brain.

And it's just like that in which Plumeria walks toward the temple. Keeping her arm close to her chest, her mind open, and her pace calm.

But who the fuck pissed off the ocean, though?? ]

water!!!

[flower_of_innocence]

[Once again, the dreamland of Mu has drawn Lillie back to its shores. She's...hesitant to touch the water, after what happened in the waking world, and so she has picked her way up the mountainside on legs that are stronger now than they were in Alola. With hands that find grip on the rocks with more certainty. Even the bag at her side containing Nebby and dreamland copies of her supplies doesn't slow her down.

Therefor, she's made it up to the temple before Plumeria. So she has time to watch her approach. Has time to feel a surge of emotions, mostly negative, from her hiding spot inside one of the buildings. This...is a test. Unlike with her mother, she won't back down. She won't run. She can't just rely on Guzma to show up and save her. And by the guardians is Guzma going to lose his mind if Plumeria shows up on Enso, speaking of him.

So Lillie steps out into the open and looks Plumeria straight in the eyes, but doesn't say a word. Her face is carefully neutral and her hands are folded in front of her. She looks a little different. Her clothes are different, not her usual dress and hat. Her hair is done up in a low ponytail. She holds herself straighter, looks leaner, looks a little scruffier. Even sports a few scars along her arms.

Hardly the girl Plumeria was kidnapping back then. Hardly the same as where they left off, from Lillie's perspective.]

irene; the invisible library; ota

[bookthefts]

— the waiting game;
( Okay. Perhaps this is a representation of... something. Her unfulfilled dream of a weekend with nothing to do but read? But there are no books in this empty space, only a door and a ledge. A frown passes over Irene's face and she clasps her hands behind her back, resisting the building urge to run her hands through her hair.

This feels undeniably like a test, the kind of problem solving mission the Library would have thrown at her in training. Two platforms, no items other than that door.

But she does have the Language. Her pacing (finally) comes to an end and Irene stares at the platform opposite with a renewed fire, judging the distance between the two. Finally, she looks down at the ground below: )

Ground upon which I am standing, become your own floating platform and move to the door before me!

( That's a language, one the listener knows, but the accent is all wrong. It's hard to fully understand what she's saying immediately with the strange formation of vowels and constanants. The familiar drain of The Language takes hold, sapping at her energy and forming reality through her will—

Or not. Blood trickles from Irene's nose as she sways with the effort of trying to move herself towards the exit, but there isn't even the slightest sign of movement from the floor. Not even a tremble. Her chest tightens, eyes fixated on the floor as though she might have missed something. The words were correct, there's no resistance to her words, the Language should have worked.

But it didn't. She rummages through her outfit for something to wipe away the blood and forces air into her lungs. There is an explanation for this. There must be. She cannot give into this panic, she will not.

Note to self: report this to Coppelia when I return. Perhaps petition for a course for Librarians Suddenly Stripped Of Powers...

She smooths down her skirt and replaces her handkerchief, looking around once more at the... not entirely empty space, now that there's another person with her. Sharp eyes gauge the stranger as she flicks through possible reasons they could be there, not that she's teeming with other options at the moment, and she approaches, steps sharp and precise despite her earlier weakness. )

I don't suppose you came in through the back door?

( It's a little dry, but given the circumstances, Irene feels she's entitled to be somewhat sarcastic about the whole thing. )

— water rising;
( She is a Librarian, not a mountain climber. True that boarding school in Switzerland means she has some familiarity with the concept, but her outfit is hardly made for this. It's made for blending into the local population, in unobtrusive colours and without any of the kinds of protection one normally requires for scrambling up a rock face.

Naturally, that means Irene is stuck in a situation where going back down is out of the question. She spares one more complaining thought about inappropriate footwear and does away with her shoes, tossing them blindly and opting for bare feet instead of heels as she scrambles up, too busy trying to put adequate space between herself and the water (she could really do with Kai's appearance right about now) to worry about any tearing fabric as she hauls herself up onto a higher platform. )

Damn...

( This is worlds away from her typical physical exercise, though the ever present danger is so utterly familiar that Irene doesn't question what she does, muttering a few words in the Language to allow herself easier grip on the narrow path, finally finding a moment to breathe and look around.

And spot someone below her, far too close to the lapping water. )

Water below me, slow your flooding!

( The second the sentence comes out — too brief, too imprecise, but she hadn't the time to speak in more depth — she knows it'll hurt, that sheer force of effort will send her to her knees, gasping for breath and trying to ignore her dizziness to reach down to the stranger below. )

Take my hand!

( It's a foolish moment of heroism, perhaps, but this isn't a mission, it's a disaster. She isn't trying to escape with a book, simply to escape with her life, no different from the person below her. )

— wildcard;
( Hit me with anything! If you wanna chat about stuff, shoot me a PM! )

water rising

[patternseeker]

[ The high of the Pattern's embrace, lifting her away and pulling her into its vision, its reality of endless happiness, came to a crashing halt some time ago, and now Kate is in a nightmare. Did the Pattern lie to her? Was Stephen right? Should she have gone out with him to help stop its spread? Or did she simply fall, a piece of the Pattern herself now since it twined herself into her blood and muscles and bones? Did it set her off to do its work too?

The thoughts haunting Kate are set aside when the water begins to rise.

She's pretty strong, but nobody just becomes a skilled mountain climber on demand. Kate does as well as she can and is doing okay, but the water is faster. Part of her wants to give up and see if she can't just reemerge into the Pattern, but the rest of her is afraid that it's looking for her and needs to find her alive.

So she fights, claws her way up, pushes herself as hard as she can, telling herself she has liquid light in her veins now and is so much stronger than she used to be—

And then a woman holds out her hand to her.

Kate takes it, and uses that and a burst of renewed strength to climb up to temporary rest beside the stranger. She leans forward, breathing heavily, shaking her head. ]

We have to keep going. We can't die here.

[ They have to keep fighting. ]

Yusuke Kitagawa | Persona 5 | OTA

[jagarico]

We Could Be Heroes!

[Well it isn't like Yusuke isn't used to having a sword in hand but not one this short. It doesn't feel right but he guesses he should be grateful for it nonetheless. However, he really wishes he had his sketchbook because wow this environment has a really amazing mood to it. Yusuke is mostly distracted by that and doesn't notice a nighthook distinguishing his torch really greatly affected the scene he wanted to keep in his mind until he could paint it down.]

You'll regret that, whatever you may be. [He sounds more angry than terrified and he's mostly stalking around in the dark, angrily trying to go after whatever ruined his future art piece. He's so focused on that, that he bumps into something, or someone.] Was it you?!

Write Haiku When Nothing to Do

[Yusuke is usually good at keeping himself amused. Be it people watching or just watching nature to try to get inspired. However, the problem is, there's nothing to really look at. It's just white.]

Is it a metaphor...? Hm. [He stares down at the void and he usually thinks he shouldn't be jumping into a void but if this is a metaphor then maybe he's supposed to. Besides, traversing around the Metaverse taught him to do weird things. So he jumps.

And just lands where he was at before. Now he's annoyed.]

This most definitely has to be a metaphor for something. There's a riddle to this. If you want something too badly then you cannot get it. But if you don't want it too badly...? [He gets onto his back and just stares up at the white void.]

Whiteness defeans...hmm, no. Too many syllables. [It isn't the type of art he likes but haiku is art nonetheless!] There isn't even enough nature to write about...[He sounds more annoyed about that than anything else.]

[phantomtrick]

[ Akira's just kind of minding his own business as usual. He hears someone's voice and tenses up. ]

I'm innocent, I swear.

[ No one ever believes what he has to say. In this particular instance, he feels like speaking up despite his confusion. Then he turns around and notices that it's Yusuke. ]

Hold on, Yusuke? What are you doing?

Eska | D&D OC [tortle monk] | OTA

[ninjatortle]

[A - it's a nice day for a swim]

[It's a wonder how they got up here. This person is very clearly, after all, a big bipedal turtle. Y'know, those things that generally aren't known for their agile climbing skills. The massive claws on the ends of their webbed hands definitely show plenty of wear and tear from their hasty ascent, and the scuffs all along the front of their shell hint that not all of the climb was exactly graceful or effortless. Winded and battered as they might be, however, they're in one piece. They pace around the perimeter of this strange empty temple, restless in the humid heat and calling out as best they can into the unfamiliar wilderness.]

Hello? Is anyone out there? If you're wounded, I can help you! If you're lost, I can... uh, well, I'm pretty lost too, to be honest. But we can be lost together!


[B - tie the weights around my feet and stumble in]

[Bravery! A dungeon-delving adventure! Exactly the sort of thing that should be a merc's forte, right?

Well... unless you're a claustrophobic turtle. Being underground, far from the watchful eyes of night and day, with the walls closing in on you? Not Eska's idea of a good time. Some of these corridors feel so narrow that the sides of their shell scrape against each wall, and the ceiling somehow feels like it's pressing in closer and closer the longer they wander these passageways. Are they going north? West? Upward or downward? Is it day or not? They don't know. They don't know! How could this mess get worse?

If you're stuck down here too, you might come across a passage with a bit of a downward incline. At the bottom, you'll find your progress might just be blocked: there's a teenage mutant ninja turtle here who seems to have fallen over. They're stuck on their back, arms and legs kicking comically at thin air as they teeter and wobble on their shell. A snuffed-out torch, dropped in this downright comical struggle, lies nearby. They're too busy trying to flip themselves over using the tip of their nose to have noticed you yet, but the corridor is a bit too thin for you to get around this 500-pound scaly seesaw of a person.

Good luck, buddy.]


[C - and dare the tide to turn]

[Patience, huh? Now this is exactly the kind of trial that Eska was built for. They sit, legs crossed and hands cradled in a mudra, at the edge of the void. Were it not for the occasional bullfrog-esque ballooning of their throat, it might be easy to mistake them for a big, stripy statue.

Not everyone would call doing nothing in an empty expanse a rollicking good time, though, and they know it. So, hey, they call out, one eerie, striped eye cracking open just a slit.]

Are you bored? You can meditate with me. Or we can talk. Isolation is much easier to deal with if you've got company!

...Uh. Though I guess it isn't isolation if you've got company, huh?

[A]

[wanderingdoctorfaust]

For all his experience and knowledge of the dreamscape, Faust had never stopped to consider if one could hypothetically dream within it. False Awakenings exist, after all, so who says you couldn't?

Well, turns out maybe he should've been thinking about it sooner, because now he's 'woken up' from his temporary bed back in Ensō to find himself on a mountain that is rapidly being engulfed by quite the expanse of saltwater. The good doctor is not built for climbing, but he is not feeling like going for a swim, either.

It feels like he's spent entire days scaling rock and stone, but he knows in reality he's likely going to wake up any second now and discover he's only been out for an hour. So imagine his surprise when he finally reaches the peak, practically dragging all nine-and-a-bit feet worth of aching body to the mysterious structure, only to find...

"...h-hello? Who're...?"

It's a giant bipedal tortoise, Doctor Faust.
A relative of one of the other anthropomorphic creatures, then?

cloud strife | final fantasy vii | advent chilbreng

[battlefront]

WATER RISING

[Okay. Alright. This is bad. One minute he's taking a trip across the wastelands on his bike, the next... he's in a jungle somewhere. And before he has time to process what even happened, there's water gushing everywhere with no sign of stopping.

He could just leap across, find the highest ledge to wait it out somewhere, but this landscape is lacking in said terrain. And he feels weaker than before. Might be a dream, or his own body just acting up again.

But he can't stay here.

So he just *runs*.]

[want_to_belong]

[Prompto was ready for trouble as soon as he got to Mu. Stay safe. Rescue anyone he found. It was a simple mindset born from previous experience on the dream island. At the very least he knew better than to think there wouldn't be any danger.

He also had an advantage of being familiar with Enso's landscape. It allowed him to make a beeline for the mountains, and he was already climbing up the lower rocks when he thought he heard some sort of scraping. Glancing back, he spotted someone down below seemingly running in a panic.]

H-Hey, up here!

[He waved to him, pausing to kneel down and offer a hand to help pull him up.]

Damien Lavey | Monster Prom

[promfight]

A. No Heroes Here

[BEST. DAY. EVER.

He has no goddamn clue what's going on - Damien was just getting ready to head into the Gym for class, finding himself in the dark with a shortsword in one hand (RAD), and a torch in the other. He half expected this to be some sort of stupid obstacle coarse Coach thought up to test them all, but it's so much better than that. ACTION! DRAMA!! BLOODSHED!!!!

These are a few of his favorite things. Mainly the last one, but u no.

So, coated in gore as he is, he's all but skipping down the twists and turns, driving his sword into pretty much everything he sees, grinning from ear to pointy, red ear. Thankfully, his heinous laughter gives him away, so if you see a literal demon coming your way with a sword trained on you...mmmaybe try and get him to stop. He might, it really depends on his mood. And, thankfully!! He's in a good mood!

Unfortunately, his good mood is spurred by the more blood and grime he drenches his sword with, but hey. It's better than a pissed off prince of Hell coming at you with a sword.]

C'MERE, SHITWAGON!!
---

One may call this a Wet Dream

[PUT HIM BACK IN THE MURDER MAZE, THAT WAS ACTUALLY FUN. This? This is Some Bullshit. The heat doesn't bother Damien - he's literally from Hell - but the water sure as heck doesn't agree with him. Of course, his stubborn and violent attitude still made him give fighting the ocean his best, sporting try, but...even he's not a complete idiot. Wading out when it got too much to handle, Damien makes his way up toward the mountain, swiping his forked tail angrily as he goes.]

Fuck! They couldn't have let me keep the sword?! Shit, I don't even have knives or anything! [He kicks a rock hard with his foot, sending it soaring....right into a cluster of lungblosoms. The grizzly-looking plants give a groan like two gears grinding together, and Damien snorts as a gaseous smog fills the air.] Oh, piss off. I've inhaled crazier shit on Polly's clothes after she brushes her teeth.

Try harder, noob.

[He looks around for something, anything to throw. Just rocks, sigh...and they're sadly very flame retardant. This sucks. How the hell can he set things on fire if he doesn't have kerosene, lighter fluid, and a matchbox? I mean, the latter is relative - he can summon fire like no one's business, but a piddly flame is so lame. He wants a motherfucking BLAZE up in this bitch.]

a

[carrotkeeper]

[Shitwagon is the last word she thought would echo through these halls and she's unsure whether or not it's preferable to the eerie silence that she had gotten used to. The daemons that would sometimes lurk into her vision were weird-it was almost impossible to kick those hand things away and the warped dogs seemed to have no end. If there's someone else in here, the odds of survival are better if they team up.

So, despite her better judgement, she heads towards the voice and sees, well, that.

Looks almost like a daemon hunting daemons, but beggars can't be choosers. ]

Hey! Are you trapped here too?

Prince Lotor | Voltron: Legendary Defender

[smallra]

I. We Could Be Heroes
[There's a boy wandering through the labyrinth, with a cat on his shoulder.

This has been an unusual day for Lotor. First, he took possession of his new pet, Kova—the very same animal curled up on his shoulder—and now he suddenly finds himself on an unexpected adventure. He's asked Father to take him on missions numerous times, but always with the same disappointing result: a firm no. Which isn't in the least fair. Now look—he's all on his own, sword in hand, presented with the opportunity to prove himself. This isn't like any test he's heard of before, but he's determined to rise to the challenge. He's confident in his skills as a warrior.

Kova isn't quite as excited by the prospect of an oppressive, dark labyrinth. He hasn't panicked, but Lotor feels the pressure of the cat's claws against his neck. He reaches up to rest a hand on his cat's head with his free hand.]

Don't worry, Kova. I promise I'll keep you safe. You're mine now, and no harm will come to you. You're under the protection of the Galra Empire.

[When Lotor hears a noise ahead of him in the tunnel, he tenses and raises his sword.]

II. White Room
[Lotor doesn't have any special powers or devices (only the cat), and he isn't about to attempt a jump of that length. None of his trials ever involved such an excessive leap.

So, although Lotor doesn't particularly want to stay here, do nothing, and be bored, he also doesn't want to fall to what might well be his death. However, he is intensely curious about the room he finds himself in, partly because it appears to be an impossible location. He leans forward a little, peering down into the brightly lit depths.]

I don't see any bottom to it. How did they make a place like this? Is it real, or just an optical illusion?

III. Wet Race
[Lotor's experience of planetary living is limited, but he knows what to do when water comes sweeping in toward him: move away from it as quickly as possible.

He's strong and agile for his age, and although his legs are relatively short, he makes his way quickly up the mountainside and away from the rising tide, leaping from rock to rock when necessary. Unfortunately, there are drawbacks to traveling with a cat, especially one you've only had for a day. Kova must not feel entirely stable perched on the back of someone hurtling up a mountainside, because he leaps off, seemingly intent on making his own escape from the waters.

In spite of the danger, Lotor stops short. He's already feeling overheated, and his breathing is more shallow than before, but he can't leave Kova behind. Who knows what other dangers there may be on this mountain? After a pause, he changes course and runs after the cat.]

Wait—come back!

i.

[stormblooded]

[The noise ahead of him, though, turns out to be a human woman in a red dress. Her torch has gone out somehow (thanks, nighthooks), so she was following the light from his. But now she's got a sword pointed at her, so. Lyse puts her hands up to show she's unarmed - she's a monk, not a gladiator, so it's not like she needed the sword.]

Whoa! Sorry. Didn't mean to sneak up on you.

horatio nullbuilt | primordia

[exdeus]

01. let's be heroes

[He puts the sword aside immediately. He's had enough violence to last him the rest of the who-knows-how-many years he has left on this Man-forsaken planet, and if he needs it to cut anything he'll know where to find it.

The torch he keeps. None of his progenitors had thought to equip him with any way to generate light on his own, which is why he'd always...

Never mind. He trudges onward, torch in hand, resolute, until he sees the eyes. He takes a step back. He's defenselss, but it wouldn't matter if he wasn't. He's never encountered anything that couldn't be communicated with.

Except for shells.]

Hello?

[They must be other robots, trapped down here with him in the dark. What else could they be?]

02. let's be... patient?

[Despite living large swathes of his life by himself in the desert, patience has never been Horatio's strong suit.

Isolation, yes. While he isn't immune to loneliness, isolation is something he can endure. But having absolutely nothing to do?

After the third time he unceremoniously not-falls on his face, he makes a noise like a tinny growl and resorts to rapping his metallic knuckles along the platform he's standing on, as if he can maybe find something he can mess with--a groove to pry into, a hidden panel for a circuit board, anything. He has no tools at his disposal, but that's not going to stop him.]

There has to be some way to make this b'sodding thing go faster.

03. wildcard

[Hit me with whatever or contact me on plurk at cerebrah if there's something you'd like to hash out! Horatio is a robot from the rusty post-apocalypse who has literally never seen any form of organic life before, let alone a human being, so any initial encounter is probably going to be very weird, but that's what I'm here for.]

1. :>

[counterblows]

[It's dark.]

[Dark and contained and there's definitely something moving in here. He's just going to have to figure out what it is and whether its intentions toward him are hostile, assuming it has any. The torch is - he doesn't want to use the word uncivilized, but it's not a light mounted on the scope of his rifle, so it feels wrong to have to carry it in hand.]

[A sword in one hand and a torch in the other. No armor. No weapons save for a sword, of all things. Not exactly advanced military tactics over here. It's a step down from the norm, but Wash breathes it in, and...okay. Okay.]

[A word slaps out into the dark, a wary greeting that draws his attention.]

[Wash tamps down the urge to douse his light and make use of the shadows.]

[Most things that want to hurt people don't take the time to offer a greeting beforehand.]

[He holds the torch further aloft, trying to pick out a silhouette in the heavy dark.]

Someone else there?

Hornet | Hollow Knight | OTA

[sewingresolve]

brave:

[The torch and sword given to her are...not to her taste. Using fire in such a way, and such a strangely shaped nail? It's different enough to cause discomfort, although the darkness granted plenty of that already. She's certainly no coward, but she also knows she's at a considerable disadvantage since she can't see her surroundings so well. Even if she could, her usual methods would snuff the torch.

A sound gets her attention, and instinct kicks in, and with a sharp cry she, um. Chucks the sword in the direction of the noise. It's only when she doesn't feel a thread running against her hand that she realizes she's made a mistake. Possibly two, depending on who the poor soul she just struck out at is.

flood:

[Hornet is having little trouble navigating up the mountain - rough, steep terrain is little issue to her, and even if it is, she has her nail and thread to serve as a grappling hook. These...strange beings, though, some of them are not so lucky. Leaving them to struggle certainly doesn't sit well with her, so those having trouble will find themselves approached by a red-cloaked bug whose body language shows she's a bit uncomfortable with the situation.]

...do you want help?

[lightlessfuture]

[ They're not unaccustomed to things they can't necessarily see well hurtling out of the darkness to hit them; that much is easily dodged, though the sword bounces off the wall oddly and glances off a horn. No harm done, really.

What really attracts them is the familiar cry. Maybe it's an illusion, or some kind of strange vision, or...

It could be real. And the possibility of could sends them hurrying into the darkness, looking for the source of that thrown weapon.

So Hornet doesn't hear any real reaction, apart from the sword bouncing off the wall and hitting something, but she does hear tiny, hurried footsteps. Soon enough, the Knight comes into the range of the light, and stops.

It's been...

It's been a long time, since they've seen her last. Here, in the dark, it could be just as ephemeral as the dreams they've had many times before. So they stand transfixed, half-lit by the flickering torchlight, unable to bring themselves to move closer yet in case it breaks something. ]

Lyse | Final Fantasy XIV: Stormblood | ota!

[stormblooded]

[Canonpoint is post-4.4!]

1. trial(s) of the brave(s)

[Lyse is pretty much the polar opposite of this trial's intended audience, but luckily(?) Mu's seen fit to pose it to her anyway. The darkness doesn't scare her overmuch, but her torchlight barely penetrates it, and all the corridors down here look the same... Is she going in circles? And where is everyone, anyway? She wouldn't have come to a place like this alone, that's for sure. They must have gotten separated. Yeah, that tracks.]

Hey! ... Can anybody hear me? [- she calls out, her voice echoing off the stone walls. But it seems she hasn't yet noticed the faint glow of grimling eyes stalking behind her...]

2. the waiting room

[Now here's a trial tailor-made for her. Granted, Lyse has learned to temper her impulsiveness when it counts - i.e., when the enemy could retaliate against innocent people and outweigh any good she managed to do. But this isn't that kind of situation, is it? And she's not a patient woman by nature. So being stuck in a featureless void with nothing to do, it's... a little bit torturous!

At the moment, she's leaning over the edge, gazing out at the second platform with a hand above her eyes to shade them from the sourceless light. Right now, it's definitely too far - she's capable of some pretty astounding feats of strength and agility, but even she can't cross a hundred yalms in a single bound.

Well, how about a second opinion, though? Since she's sort of gradually noticed someone else in here with her, just now. She glances at the other person and gestures at the platform.]

Is that - is that actually moving? Or am I just imagining things?

3. previously on baywatch

[It's a beautiful island, for a moment... not unlike the scenery of the Ruby Sea. Although those islands didn't suddenly start sinking into the ocean...!

Admittedly, Lyse does have a brief moment of panic before she remembers oh, right, blessing of the kami, I can breathe underwater. (Which has almost undoubtedly been nerfed somehow, of course, but she doesn't know that.) But not every landwalker is so lucky! So instead of fleeing, she skirts the water's edge, moving upward only when she absolutely has to, and looking for anyone who's struggling to climb or swim. Anybody need a lifeguard?]

1

[jagarico]

[It's a good thing Yusuke isn't afraid of the dark and he isn't used to seeing how flame looks when you are surrounded by pure darkness. Being an artist, he's very distracted as he tries to remember how it all looks.

And then he hears Lyse and sighs.]

Excuse me, can you be quiet for a second while I keep this image in my mind?

Quentin | October Daye Novels

[blindfoster]

[ Option 1 - Dark and Grimlings ]

[The dark isn't the worst thing. Really. The fact that he has a torch at all means that the dark isn't even all that big a deal. Fae eyes were made for a nighttime world, and as long as a place has some shred of light, Quentin can see clearly enough. And hey, it means that he can probably save worrying about crafting himself a human disguise to hide the distinctly non-human points of his ears and angles of his features for later. Humans can't see enough in light this low to notice. So yeah, the dark? Not the worst thing.

The worst thing is what he's seeing. Moving shadows, things that he doesn't think he wants to meet. And worst still nothing and nowhere familiar. At all. Not even a little. This isn't where he's supposed to be. Wherever it is. He has a sword and, he supposes, that's probably good, or at least, better than being entirely unarmed.

He hears movement, and his gaze swings in the direction of the sound.]

Hello? ...Toby? [A hopeful lilt to the name, but when he's met with a growl in response. Well. That's...] Not Toby...

[Also not good. He levels the sword in front of himself, ready to fight. The grimling lunges, and Quentin forces it away with the edge of the blade, dropping back. Okay. No problem. He's got this.

Except the sound of growls and footsteps coming are probably a bad sign. Help?]


[ Option 2 - Tactical Retreat ]

[So. After the third grimling showed up, Quentin was willing to admit he was outnumbered and over his head. So aware of the general notion that discretion is the better part of valor (because he hears way too much Shakespeare in his life), in his discretion he decides to run.

Fast. He loses his torch in the process, throwing it as a distraction, and has to rely on what little ambient light there is to guide him through. Which means he'll likely head to any other torchlight he sees. Sorry he's bringing some unfriendly pursuit with him.]

C'mon! We need to run. Sorry! But go! Go go go!


[ Option 3 - Waiting ]

[No you know what? Quentin preferred the monsters. He's gone from trying to retain some amount of decorum, to dropping to a seat cross-legged on the painfully slow trip across while looking every bit like the bored and petulant teenager he is, to flopping onto his back on the moving platform and glowering up at the ceiling.

He may be immortal, but that doesn't mean he can't die of boredom. It's gonna happen. Anyone sharing the platform with him? Sorry.] Who even designed this?! Couldn't they at least have put in a radio?

[The worst. At least he's remembered to cast an illusion on himself so he looks as much like the dramatic human teenager he sounds like, instead of an extra from a Lord of the Rings film.]


[ Option 4 - Water ]

[Quentin doesn't like the heat. California is bad enough in its complete lack of snowfall, but this is searing and awful and yeah, he's going to take refuge in the shade. Bad idea though, since a face full of spores later, he's sputtering and stumbling back into his climb.

And then the visions come. So far he's kept his human illusion in place, but the more and more frantic he gets, the shakier it becomes. Either way, he's very clearly not doing well.]

No... no stay back! [He wheels on anyone who comes close enough, though wide blue eyes look like they're staring straight through to something else, something beyond.] This isn't real. I know it isn't real.


[ Option 5 - Wildcard ]

(( something not here? hit me! ))

2!

[bookthefts]

( He's not the only one running, honestly. While Irene isn't unfamiliar with swords (really, that boarding school had a very diverse curriculum), she's hardly skilled enough to use them against this many monsters. The Language helps, providing obstacles and distractions for them to overcome, but even it can only last so long.

So she runs until she comes to a crossroads in the maze of this dungeon, and wishes that it had come with a map. Utterly lacking in any preparation whatsoever, but of course she is. Why wouldn't she be? All irritation aside, Irene quickly turns her head back in the direction she came, listening for any signs of her pursuers getting too close for comfort and hears nothing but distant thuds of them trying to swat off still animated parts of the dungeon. She has a moment to—

Hear the hurried footsteps and shouts of a stranger, and resist the urge to groan and run her hands through her hair. That removes one more option from her grasp. With no time, she grabs the man by his arm and hauls him into the path opposite her, urging him down the dark corridor. )

Stone wall, block the way!

( The Language is a strange thing, capable of reshaping the immediate vicinity to whatever Irene says, while sounding like a familiar language spoken in an unfamiliar accent. Walls? Walls block, and she's grateful for that, it makes the short, imprecise command less draining than it would otherwise, and she doesn't need to try and force herself back to her feet before continuing on and catching up with the stranger. )

— Are you alright?

oz | MONSTER PROM

[b14ck_gold]

let's be heroes.

[ The darkness is vast, here. Wide, and long, and outside of a rumble of evil...perfectly quiet.

Which is somewhat alarming to Oz. The rustle, hustle, and bustle of high school life was right around the corner! There were so many people! And then he opened the door to the school itself and found himself encased in a familiar, inky darkness. The lit torch burned beside him on the ground. A sword, too-- not a flimsy prop, like he'd seen other students use...

An actual, gleaming sword.

Black, inky shadows with little white eyes curved around where his hands should have been in the darkness, patting his bright yellow sweater reassuringly. It's the sort of interaction he needed. I-it's okay...it's fine. ]

I-it's okay...it's okay. [ he reassures no one in particular, but even hearing his own words out loud makes him feel a great deal better. Leaning down, Oz picks up the torch, soft, shadowy blobs reaching toward the light source like a lava lamp. He squints into the darkness, but can see and hear no one.

And as a shadow, he assumes, it would be very, very hard to see him. Good thing he's wearing a bright yellow sweater!! ]

Artorias | Dark Souls (1)

[abyssalonslaught]

[Waking up is something Artorias hasn't done in a long time. And yet he is here, hefting the sword tentatively, testing the balance of the blade. Staring at the torch until the light hurts his eyes. Kicking it aside, unable to wield two things at once since...

The knight shakes his head, his left arm hanging uselessly at his side as he begins to lurch forward into the pitch black. Death should have brought him peace. Should have pulled him free from the Abyss. So why was he here? Why...did he know his own name? Hadn't he forgotten that sometime long ago?

When the growling and snarling surrounds him, he is not surprised. The grimlings are dispatched effortlessly, tossed aside like rag dolls by his skill with a blade. The Abyss is darkness in it's purest, most vile form. But that is not where he is, is it? This...this is child's play.

He lifts his head cautiously at the sight of another light up ahead. By way of greeting, he launches the nearest grimling across the room(?) towards the light. A challenge to face him if you're hostile, or flee if you've got any sense.]

[lightlessfuture]

[ Wow, don't toss stuff at them!! That's rude!! Clearly whoever's flinging monsters about in the darkness doesn't know proper torch etiquette.

They're not hostile, but neither are they fearful, so they forge on ahead towards the sounds of combat in the darkness.

Tiny footsteps patter right up to him, their owner lit by the guttering light of a torch held (not very) high.

They look up (and up) at him, without any fear whatsoever. ]