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The Mods of LifeAftr ([personal profile] lifeaftr_mods) wrote in [community profile] aftr_ooc2019-02-13 08:47 pm
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TEST DRIVE MEME ( 020 )

Test Drive Meme #20
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.

Due to the shortness of the month, both Reserves AND Applications will open on February 17th!

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.

Hell's Fury Burns the Heart
Back in December, the island of Maati treated travelers to unique Trials, tailored to their own unique sins and vices. Of the seven possible trials for adventurers to undergo, the Trial of the Forgiving, the trial laser-focused to exploit those most predisposed to be wrathful and violent, was among the simplest. Unlike the other trials, there were very few puzzles and mazes. The Trial of the Forgiving was largely, in essence, a trial of temptation.

This Trial takes the shape of a stone-walled spiral, with trial-goers starting at the outermost point and working their way steadily to the exit at the center. The torches lining the hall as it stretches infinitely onward paints the walls with a warm amber tint, giving the entire place a much more welcoming ambiance than will eventually become evident.

Your task is simple: make it to the end in one piece. All you have to do is withstand the constant harassment from the very, very familiar faces that will stalk you throughout the entirety of this gauntlet. Each specter that appears will be one with which you hold a significant grievance - be it a personal antagonist, a long-standing nemesis, a foe you once faced, or even yourself, if your self-hatred runs that deep.
All the while, they'll be doing their utmost to incite you to strike at them. Taunting you, acting out, threatening you or the ones you love; while they cannot physically harm you, they don't necessarily need to, in order to strike a nerve.

They want you to attack them. They want you to lash out. In part because all damage you attempt to deal to them will be rebounded back onto you - and whoever might be accompanying you - instead. A poorly-timed attack or well-placed insult might very well be enough to one-shot you, or your companions, into oblivion.

It's a good thing you have, potentially, innumerable chances. Every time you're struck down, you'll simply reappear at the very start of the Trial...and have to start making your way to the end all over again.

The Weakest Link
Once again, Mu has reformatted one of Maati's Trials for its own purposes. This one is based off of the Trial of the Trusting, which focused on building bonds and connections between its victi - er, between its trial-goers. For those prone to paranoia, distrust, or simply being emotionally closed off, this would be the challenge laid out to them: a sequence of puzzles and traps requiring teamwork and faith in one another, at least in the situational sense.

Fortunately - or, perhaps, unfortunately - things here are going to be a little simpler, though you'll still be waking in a tunnel lined with dark green stone, intermittently lit by the odd, irregularly spaced torch. This Trial will make its intentions quite clear from the beginning, for, you see, you're going to be waking up with a friend.

One that happens to be chained, that is. To you.
A length of about two feet of chain links the cuffs that bind you, one wrist to another, with whatever other unlucky soul has woken up here beside you. No matter what you do to said chain, it remains stubbornly indestructible. Though you could always try breaking your wrists, or severing your hands instead, or...actually, you know what? Why don't you just try to get through the Trial with your new friend, instead? It's probably going to be at least marginally less painful!

The path that is open to the pair of you is fairly linear. Its difficulty largely stems from the back that you'll be traversing it as a permanently linked pair. Obstacles present will always be surmountable as a team - switches and levers that might involve two people to reach, doors that require dual switches or buttons to be held down, puzzles that require passing of information between the both of you to expedite progress, and so on. There's also the matter of the Rarriers - ogre-like creatures of large stature and a territorial nature. Those under the keen gaze of a Rarrier will find them impossible to attack; their front hide is as tough as steel, and attacks tend to simply glance off. Their backs and sides are of a much more vulnerable nature, however. If only you could reach...or get someone else to do it for you.

Assuming you're not both sick of each other by the time you reach the exit, you'll be rewarded with the breaking of the cuffs that connect you, symbolizing that a friendship forged is stronger than any iron! Though, by the end...maybe "friendship" isn't the word we'd use.

Well Met
This place is hot, dry, and arid - but at least it's brightly lit! The peach-colored swell of dunes seems to be limitless, in nearly every direction, with the stretch of sand fading seemingly infinitely into the dark, purple line of the horizon. The sun overhead is relentless and sweltering; if you're the sort of person who needs to self-regulate, temperature wise, you might be in for a bit of a problem the longer you're stuck out here. Could be a rough time.

Fortunately for you, there's water. Very nearby, in fact. It's the only deviation from the sea of sand: a dark, circular blot that looks very, very much like a water well. As the only landmark in the vicinity, it seems at the very least worth checking out, right? The closer you get, the less it seems like it might be a mirage, or some other elaborate ruse. It looks like a perfectly normal, unassuming well.
Which is why, of course, it isn't one at all.

Well mimics are native to the island of Monsun, and they're...well, they're exactly what they sound like. They favor dry, desert-like environments, and hunt by luring travelers and animals alike to the temptingly fresh waters they hold. Mu has been helpful enough to recreate one in vivid detail, just for you.

These creatures are largely tube-shaped animals, buried deep in the sandy earth. They suction fresh water from deep within the earth and hold it in the lowermost parts of themselves. The simple construct that travelers see - the circular, stone shape with the rope and bucket for hauling water - is, in fact, their mouth, carefully adapted to camouflage itself into something that seems perfectly serviceable. Once travelers attempt to grab hold of the rope or bucket, or even the rim of the well itself, they'll discover that the surfaces have all been slicked with a sticky substance that may very well take off a layer of your skin if you attempt to tear away without taking great care.

Once the well mimic has entrapped its prey, the "well" sprouts teeth around its stone rim, lining its rocky gullet all the way to the bottom, as well as a fat red tongue. Rope-like tentacles whip out to seize whatever poor soul has found themselves ensnared. If you don't manage to get free in time, you'll learn just how it feels to be digested over a period of twenty-four hours while your body is broken down into a squishy, delicious mulch for the mimic's consumption.

The best way to kill these creatures is by tricking it into swallowing something lethal - fire, poison, sharp weapons, whatever you have on hand. Well mimics are quite blind and hunt purely by touch, and will seize whatever touches them without any knowledge of what it is. And once it has one victim in hand, it's quite incapable of grabbing hold of another.

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( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )
alchemisted: (Default)

[personal profile] alchemisted 2019-02-19 07:38 pm (UTC)(link)
Clever magic.

[Alfor compliments, even as he catches onto the need to keep the creature within the effect of it.

Back to holding it at bay then. He shifts as she approaches so that they have it flanked.]
theharrowed: (whispers ✹ your evil lie)

[personal profile] theharrowed 2019-02-19 08:08 pm (UTC)(link)
I'm not my mentor's protege for naught.

[She'd bow, but they still have the problem of the "well" in front of them. Thankfully, the ward should be up for another few seconds.]

At the very least, it seems to be near its last legs.

[It's slowing down. And trying to get away. She stands beside the other and shoots more fire at it through her fingertips. Back into the ring of fire, mimic]
alchemisted: (6)

[personal profile] alchemisted 2019-02-19 08:51 pm (UTC)(link)
So it seems.

[Another lunge with his sword, herding the creature back into the maelstrom of fire, while trying not to get singed by it himself.]

It's a cruel sort of monster, promising relief in such a harsh place only to be... that. Instead.

[Not nice at all, evil well.]
theharrowed: (bemused ✹ a revolution)

[personal profile] theharrowed 2019-02-21 09:15 pm (UTC)(link)
[according to the dice collection Alfor manages not to burn himself, but just barely. Alyssa's spell ends the moment the eruption of flames from her hands do, the fiend screeching one last time before falling over and reducing to ash.]

Most monsters are. [So rude. Yet she turns to the man and offers a hand out. No flames; she promises.] Thanks for that. Alyssa Amell, former Warden-Commander. Not that it means much here.
alchemisted: (7)

[personal profile] alchemisted 2019-02-23 01:47 am (UTC)(link)
[Alfor keeps his sword trained until he's certain the monster won't be rising again. Then the bayard deactivates and he stows it, turning to take the offered hand with a smile.]

Alfor. Paladin of Voltron. King of Altea. [A faintly amused smile. It's the first time he's given his title here.]...which likewise does not carry much meaning here.

[Except to him. He's a paladin and takes that seriously.]