TEST DRIVE MEME ( 022 )

[lifeaftr_mods]

Test Drive Meme #22

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.

In conjunction with our monthly Test Drive Meme, Reserves are now open! Applications will open on April 24th!

Two important notes:

1. LifeAftr's test drives take place on the island of Mu, which exists apart from the real world and possesses a dream-like quality that characters are innately aware of from the moment they appear on its shores. No need to panic or fret. Dreams are odd things, after all - and anything can happen in them. Why would anyone question where their mind chooses to wander in its sleep?

2. Due to the nature of Mu, threads in our test drive can not only be accepted as thread samples in your application, but can be accepted as game canon as well. In fact, certain choices your character makes in Mu have the potential to bear in-game consequences, largely in the form of test drive reward items.

To Dungeons Deep And Caverns Old
Caves are usually natural structures, though the one you find yourself within shows signs of manual influence. Brackets set into stones hold odd, glowing plants that illuminate the darkness with almost neon tones. Slightly sunken ceilings appear less threatening with the addition of great, wood beams to brace them upright, and traversing the more heavily inclined passages becomes far easier with the addition of roughly carved stairwells, worn smooth by the passage of many feet that have passed this way before you.

If it weren't for the way the ground tremors and rumbles underfoot, it would be a strange but otherwise pleasant scene. As it stands, that clamorous shaking only worsens the longer you stand here, rumbles like thunder vibrating through the stone in dense waves. An earthquake? A volcanic eruption?

...a cave-in? Regardless of the cause, that final option is becoming more likely to occur in your general vicinity, the longer these tremors continue. It's time to go - and quickly, before that option is lost to you entirely. To the left, or right? Up, or down? If you look up, if you really squint, a few shimmering rays of sunlight glimmer far, far above your head from a natural skylight, if you think you can survive whatever's happening on the surface. Or you can keep forging your way downward, deeper, and hope that there's a stable little alcove set somewhere in the stone where you can wait this whole thing out. There really are innumerable options in this labyrinthian underground - and what awaits you around the next corner could be your salvation or your downfall.

Your very long downfall. So watch your step.

What's My Age Again?
Last month, adventurers found themselves dealing with the aftermath of a volcanic eruption... and the odd, transformative effects the volcanic ash seemed to have upon them. Ever curious of what occurs in the waking world, Mu has once again sought to emulate this oddity, reshaping its visitors to fit the images of their past - or even their potential future. Waking up in your preteen body is the nightmare of many, but hardly the greatest oddity one might come across in a dream. Fifteen years younger, thirty years older - either way, you seem to be a tad displaced from who you are in the now. Those aware of this may find it something of a challenge, with vocal chords cracking for the first time in years, or creaking bones that don't move quite as fast as they used to. For others, however, nothing appears to be amiss at all; mentally or physically. Your memories may have leapt up to follow suit with these radical changes...or maybe you're an adult mind trying to cope with a toddler's body.

Perhaps this dream is precisely the chance you've been looking for. It's time to relive your childhood, or experience your golden years in peace. The calm, resort-like beachfront you find yourself upon will hinder neither. You could always go looking for answers - where you are, why this is happening to you - but there's no guarantee you'll be successful in locating any.

Maybe you'll get lucky, though, and find someone who believes you.

Worth A Thousand Words
The Chamber of Glyphs is a unique feature to LifeAftr, resting on the border between the waking world and Mu itself. An immense room of seemingly infinite length and height, every space, wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling, is occupied by images scratched into stone with chalk and charcoal.

The drawings themselves also appear to be- unique. Beams of light from a chalked-in sun mingle with illustrations raindrops to create a shimmering rainbow. Roughly drawn animals leap away from those who approach, startled out of stillness, and ancient battles play out in never-ending loops upon the floor. Everywhere one looks, drawings seem to shift upon the walls, disappearing and reappearing elsewhere, or mingling with images that had not been there prior. A basin of endless chalk sits next to a firepit in the center of the room, ripe for the inspired artist to take to whatever blank canvas is available in the architecture - and there is always space available. If you're bored of watching the charcoal rabbits leap away to hide in green, chalky grass, perhaps there's a drawing of your own that's ready to come to life, a permanent fixture to the walls about you.

Or not. Take care with just what you decide to draw, as some images may not be content staying glued to flat surfaces. Outliners are perhaps exactly what one would expect them to be, and exactly what they sound like: something that's both out of bounds and out of line. Rogue outlines of chalk, charcoal, and paint, they break away from the surface upon which they were initially spawned to shamble after the living with often awkward shambling. Very few have been given the gift of depth, a fact that leaves most paper thin and prone to crumpling into scribbled heaps.

Though not the greatest of threats, it's best not to let them touch you. Those without depth or dimension may be quite eager to steal yours - and once you find yourself drawn into the two-dimensional spaces across the walls and floor, returning to normal will prove near impossible.

---

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

[bloodbathing]

Maine.

[ The answer is immediate, given before Maine even thinks about it. Almost like it's a reflex. It wouldn't be unusual if it were something physical — Maine's body often reacts before he consciously realizes what's happening, and it's saved his life more than once. But this is something verbal. Something that's usually carefully filtered.

It's just a name, Maine tells himself. No reason to think about it too much.

The space marine steps closer, bowing his head slightly to get a better look at the stranger. ]

You?

[the_archivist]

[Well, that was... less useful than he'd hoped. Serves him right for being imprecise, but he's not at his best right now. Not with the Buried pressing in around him like this.

Maine. Interesting name even if it doesn't tell him much. The question though, that makes him frown.

He doesn't know already? Jon is marked and everyone he meets in the same situation seems to know what he is, even if they don't know who he is. This question seems genuine.]

I'm the Archivist.

[bloodbathing]

[ It's impossible to see Maine's face through opaque gold. But judging by the way he tilts his head to the side — his only visible reaction; there are no twitches of surprise that might betray recognition — Maine has no idea what that means. Doesn't understand the significance any more than the other man realizes what it means to be named after a state. ]

Like the Storyteller?

[ That's the Freelancer's best guess. Is this another deity of these islands? ]

[the_archivist]

[Nothing. No recognition. That's... promising? He thinks. Or maybe this... he's going to assume they're a person, is just as hopelessly trapped as he is.

The Storyteller though... curious. Another aspect of one of the powers perhaps? Not one he's heard of and it doesn't seem to fit with any of them. If it was the Beholding, then he'd know. He just would.]

No. I don't think so. What is the Storyteller?

[bloodbathing]

[ "What," indeed. Maine shifts his weight slightly, well aware that he's about to sound like a fucking nutjob. ]

Deity. Runs this place. [ A pause, then Maine makes himself add: ] Looks like giant rabbit.

[ No; he's not joking. He even holds out a hand, palm-down, to illustrate the Storyteller's size: about as big as a toddler. ]

[the_archivist]

[Deity he can handle. He knows about the kinds of things that can influence the world.

But giant rabbit?!]

Is that true?

[That is compulsion. He isn't sure if he's being played with and it slips out naturally these days.]

[bloodbathing]

[ Immediately, Maine nods. Perhaps unnecessarily, he vocalizes his answer as well: ]

Yeah.

[ Odd, that he'd answer both physically and verbally. He tries to shake it off. Tries to focus on the situation at hand. ]

Bad place to talk.

[ He gestures for the stranger to follow him. ]

[the_archivist]

[Jon isn't sure what to make of that. It's true. Or true as far as the person in front of him is concerned. He can't imagine any of the Entities using the image of a giant rabbit. What Entity would it even belong to?

Before he can get too lost in his thoughts, the man... robot? talks again, and Jon has to agree.]

Not that I'm disagreeing, but... I don't know the way out.

[bloodbathing]

[ The space marine shrugs; he doesn't know the way out, either. However: ]

Will find it.

[ Cocky, perhaps, but there's no trace of doubt in Maine's voice. He needs to find a way out of here, so he'll find a way out. End of story. ]

[the_archivist]

[Jon wishes he could believe that, but no matter how much confidence he has, it's hard to believe. Although... the walls have remained remarkably still since they started talking.]

I don't know if there is a way out.

[bloodbathing]

[ Undeterred, Maine repeats: ]

Finding it.

[ All else fails, he'll make a way out.

The Freelancer turns on his heel and begins to walk down the path, intending to turn right at the last intersection instead of left. Accompanied or not, he's getting out of here. ]

[the_archivist]

[It sounds foolish, but then... hadn't his plan been just as reckless? Walk into the coffin, into the heart of the Buried, to retrieve Daisy. Hubris, pure and simple.

Well, he doesn't want to be left here alone.

He follows after the man and reaches out to press one hand against the wall. It is cool and unforgiving. Almost a relief when part of him was expecting it to sink in.]

[bloodbathing]

[ Once he notices that the Archivist is following, Maine shortens his stride. Pauses at the intersection so that the man can catch up. Then he nods to the path he was previously on. ]

Woke there.

[ Which means there's only one path left to take. It slopes downward, but that doesn't seem to perturb Maine. He starts walking it anyway, still slowing his natural pace. ]

[the_archivist]

[Down. Again. A year ago this might not have bothered him quite as much, but after being buried in the coffin, well, he thinks he has a few more fears than he used to. Feeding other patrons, but he's not too far gone to dear yet.]

How did you get here? Just... wake up?

[bloodbathing]

Yeah.

[ A spoken answer, since a nod might be harder to see as they move. ]

Happens sometimes. [ A pause, as Maine thinks about other times he's woken up and been remarkably calm about his strange surroundings. ] Might be dreaming.

[ Wouldn't be the first time. ]

[the_archivist]

...I wish I could say this was the strangest thing in my life.

[Once it would have been. Now? Now it doesn't even make the top ten. He keeps following the man through the tunnels. he pauses when he mentions dreaming and cocks his head slightly, considering before shaking his head.]

I can't dream. And this doesn't feel like someone else's.

[bloodbathing]

[ Maine glances back at that, puzzled by both of those statements. This feels dream-like enough to him that he's not overly concerned by how he got here. He's silent for a moment, trying to figure out how to phrase the question before he asks: ]

Would know?

[ If this was someone else's dream, he means. ]

[the_archivist]

[Jon pauses and considers for a moment before giving a short nod.]

I can't participate in other people's dreams. All I can do is watch.

[Over and over again. But here... he's part of it. He doesn't like it.]

[bloodbathing]

[ Well. That's a bit— ]

Weird.

[ Agent Maine, the Master of Tact. ]

Here now.

[ And this certainly feels like a dream to Maine.

The path they're on climbs slightly before reaching another intersection. Maine curses his HUD's nonfunctional state and squats down, trying to gauge by sight what the most-used path might be. ]

[the_archivist]

That's the story of my life recently.

[Jon mutters the words and it comes with a sigh. He's got used to it and that is perhaps the most worrying thing.

He pauses when the man does, watches as he peers at the branching paths. It comes to him then, a drip of knowledge and for once he's relieved by it. Pleased even.]

That way. It's that way.

[bloodbathing]

[ Maine looks up, surprised. The path doesn't look any different to him, but the Archivist sounds confident. Remarkably so. He studies the man for a moment, then he nods and stands to continue on their way.

It occurs to Maine that this man might be trying to lead him into a trap — but it doesn't concern him. The massive Freelancer is sure he can handle it. ]

[the_archivist]

[Maine can study him all he wants. He's always being watched so that's long since stopped being something that disconcerts him. He just looks back and gives a small, tight smile.

They head off again, following the path. The walls haven't shifted again yet. They seem remarkably solid and normal.]

Have you been here long?

[bloodbathing]

[ That's a question with two possible answers. Maine's not sure which the other man wants. Isn't sure if asking for clarification would work since the Archivist seems to think this isn't a dream. So, after a second of consideration, he decides to give both. ]

Few minutes, underground. [ Maine had just risen and immediately jumped into action, as he does. ] Few weeks on islands.

[ He turns the question back with a gesture and a tilt of his head: "you?" ]

[the_archivist]

[Oh he wouldn't rule out it being a dream. It feels dream-like. He just knows it isn't his dream. And it doesn't feel the same as when he has other people's. For one thing, those are generally nightmares.]

Islands?

I just woke up. It's a little disconcerting to 'wake up' underground.

[Especially after just crawling out of The Buried.]

[bloodbathing]

[ Maine nods and grunts, both in confirmation and in agreement. This is the second time he's woken up in some sort of cave. The first time, he found himself handcuffed to Wash. This time, he's found the Archivist. ]

Islands. Connected to dreams? [ He shrugs; he's not sure how it works. ] Storyteller's in dreams.