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.

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LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

[bloodbathing]

Will soon.

[ When they get out of here, he means.

As for the Storyteller? That takes a bit of thought. Maine's quiet for a moment, considering his brief interactions with the giant rabbit. ]

Confusing. [ But: ] Helpful.

[the_archivist]

[He hopes that's true. He would rather like to see daylight again.

He listens intently to what Maine says, brow furrowing. It's not much to go on although 'helpful' rules out every single one of the Entities.]

Interesting. Why is helping? What does it want?

[bloodbathing]

Stories. Like currency. Power?

[ He shakes his head. He doesn't know how it works. Just that the Storyteller wants stories, and that giving them can mean getting something in return.

There's a shift, then. Dizziness hits before Maine notices the rumbling around them. He stops and braces himself with a hand against the stone wall. Looks up through his visor as dust and small fragments of rock shake loose and rain down in a gentle(-ish) shower. ]

[the_archivist]

Oh.

[Now that he understands. That makes sense. That is... disturbingly familiar.]

I'm familiar with that sort of... arrangement.

[Feed your god, and it was feed you. Feed your god or it will feed on you. He is not sure he can imagine an Avatar of the Beholding that is a giant rabbit though. That part is still sticking.

There are more pressing concerns though when the ground begins to rumble around them. Jon rests a hand against the wall, feels the vibrations right through his skin. But the walls don't move. They don't cave in and he does not feel dust filling his mouth.]

[bloodbathing]

[ Whoever (or whatever) built these tunnels seems to have made them as solid as possible. The shaking stops soon enough, and Maine looks back to check on the Archivist.

The man appears unharmed. Still, Maine asks: ]

You good?

[ He'll ask about that "arrangement" comment in a moment. ]

[the_archivist]

[The rumbles die down and Jon can breathe again. He remembers what Daisy had told him about the coffin, about how it knew when to pull back so they could never get used to what was happening. She'd been in there a lot longer than he had.

But for now he can breathe and that's all that matters.

He nods when asked.]

I'll survive. Bad experience underground recently.

[bloodbathing]

[ Another person might ask about it. Maine merely nods. Then he raps his knuckles against his chestplate. ]

Happens again, get closer.

[ So that Maine can shield the decidedly unarmored man.

It's not an offer that Maine would've made when they started out. But the Archivist pointed the way at the last intersection. They're working together. As long as that remains the case, the Freelancer will look out for the Archivist. ]

[the_archivist]

[He tilts his head a little, surprised despite himself. He isn't used to someone trying to protect him, at least, not because they wanted to. Daisy hadn't had a choice and even she had planned to kill him once the Unknowing was stopped.]

I- I appreciate it. Thank you.

[bloodbathing]

[ Maine isn't quite sure what to make of the surprise. But again, he doesn't ask about it. He just grunts in acknowledgment and begins leading the way once again.

As they move: ]

Said 'familiar with arrangement.'

[ The Archivist said more than that, but Maine is choosing fewer words over complete accuracy. ]

How?

[ His tone isn't accusatory. He's just curious. ]

[the_archivist]

[He won't let confidence get the better of him. Even if things seem to be going well, he's not about to trust that this isn't a trick. He remembers how quickly things had gone wrong during the Unknowing.

His gaze fixes on Maine's back and he makes a face when he speaks, trying to work out how to explain it without sounding insane or possibly like a cultist in a bad movie. One upside of his social circle currently being entirely people touched by the Entities is that this just didn't come up.]

There are certain... entities in my... wherever I am outside this dream. Some people have been able to... become tied to them. Feed them what they desire, and you receive some power in return.

[bloodbathing]

[ The Freelancer is quiet, thinking that over. It does sound a little farfetched — or it would if he weren't in this place. Maine doesn't know if the Storyteller can give "power," but… ]

Familiar.

[ Said with a little nod of agreement.

They reach another intersection, then. This time, Maine doesn't immediately squat down and begin studying the paths. Instead, he glances over at the Archivist, waiting to see if the other man will know the way. ]

[the_archivist]

Yes. From what you've said it does sound rather similar. Out of curiosity, do... do horrific supernatural things happen here often?

[He knows dreams are no exception to the gaze of the Eye. Might even be more fertile a place in some ways, than the confines of reality.

He heads over to the path and stares at them, trying to will that knowledge to come without being overwhelmed, before he finally shakes his head.]

Sorry. It likes to keep me on my toes.

[A hint sometimes seems acceptable currently, but a detailed map would be too much to ask. He thinks he knows where Elias got it from.]

[bloodbathing]

[ Well. That's a bizarre question. Maine stares for a moment, cocking his head slightly in confusion before he shakes his head. As far as he knows, the most horrific thing that's happened here is just being here.

When the Archivist comes up empty, Maine brushes the apology aside with a one-shouldered shrug. Then he squats down and examines the stones, trying to gauge which ones are worn the smoothest.

It would be easier if his HUD were functional. Shit, he'd probably barely have to pause. He feels like he's half-blind without the constant flow of information from his suit's sensors. The Freelancer grits his teeth and reminds himself that he is getting out of here. This is a temporary setback; that's all.

Fortunately, one of the three paths is clearly more frequently used than the rest. After checking the third path, Maine points at the second — "that one" — and resumes leading the way. ]

[the_archivist]

[Well, that's unusual. He's not actually sure what to do with the idea of a place where horrific supernatural things don't occur with disturbing regularity. He might have a few years ago, before he became the Archivist, when genuine supernatural occurrences seemed rare, and Jurgen Leitner was the epitome of evil. But these days? No, he doesn't know what to do with that.

He feels bad that he can't help with the direction, but it's not something he really controls. The Eye likes to keep him working, seeking knowledge. It's not the same if he just get spoon fed it, even that would make things immeasurably easier.

God, he really is starting to turn into Elias. Ugh.

He definitely feels relief when Maine points at a tunnel that looks pretty much the same as the other. But Maine had followed his guidance and the tunnel doesn't feel wrong or ominous.]

I think I see something ahead. Is that daylight?

[bloodbathing]

[ The light certainly appears bright enough to be daylight, though after the relative dark it's hard to tell. Maine squints at it and takes his Magnum from its place on his right thigh. Keeps moving forward steadily. Fearlessly.

When he spots what is unmistakably the green of plants, Maine looks back to the Archivist. With his free hand, he gives the other man a thumbs up. ]

Found it.

[ The way out, he means. And although his face isn't visible, there's a smile in Maine's voice. ]

[the_archivist]

[That light may be the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. It seeps through him in shades of relief. It's probably obvious that he was never cut out for the Dark.

He smiles at Maine, grateful for his company.]

You did. Thank you.

[bloodbathing]

We did.

[ An automatic correction. The Archivist is the one who figured out the first turn, after all. Maine is no glory hog; he'll give credit where credit is due.

With that, the Freelancer turns back towards the sunlight and continues forward. ]