TEST DRIVE MEME ( 004 )

[lifeaftr_mods]

Test Drive Meme #4

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 October 17th and that Applications will open on October 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.

Gone Apeshit
The peaceful island upon which you've found yourself is pleasant enough, isn't it? Clear turquoise waters, white sand, verdant copses of trees...it might be a little on the humid side, sure, but what's not to love?

The answer will come in the form of some decidedly simian ululations and howls that will inevitably start echoing through the trees, paired with the occasional loud, firework-like bang of some weapon being fired. The beach itself is safe, or as safe as beaches can possibly be, but setting foot into the jungle proper will prompt immediate, firepower-based retaliation from the group of monkeys that have elected to live there.
That's right: monkeys. Monkeys wielding rudimentary technology, no less, the most prominent example of such being the cannon-like, primitive firearms that shoot coconuts at interlopers. While their precision is not excellent, a direct or indirect hit can cause incredibly serious injury. Sure, you could opt to stay on the sidelines...but without any resources on hand, your only remaining solution is to either risk starvation or exposure, or to confront the gun-toting monkeys directly.

A pity Jumpman isn't here, huh?

Motherclucker
Congratulations! After who knows however long you might have spent exploring this strange new land - be it hours or eons or days or mere minutes - you've finally stumbled across some resources that may be viable! You've encountered a flock of bludroc, their nests brimming with speckled eggs that would surely taste delicious sucked raw or fried on a stone.

Unfortunately, this is a rather vast flock of the creatures, and they do not part with their offspring easily. While they lend themselves easily to domestication, these bludroc are quite wild, and quite unwilling to be beset upon by complete strangers. So if you encroach upon their territory, beware...for you may find yourself set upon by an abundance of pecking, flapping, screeching, colorful creatures.

Tick Tock
Mu's world is a curious one, no doubt. Its creatures often bear a strange resemblance to those in the world of LifeAftr proper, but some fauna can be found on no other landscape, in no other context, besides the dreamlike dips and peaks that only Mu can emulate.

One of those creatures is the clockroach.

Today, they seem strangely intent on flocking around those who have crossed into the lands of Mu for the first time; the uninitiated of LifeAftr. Their shapes are indistinct, to start with, but the click-whisper of rustling, mothlike wings almost sounds like your name, being uttered over and over...and over...and over...

They have a curious look to start with, make no mistake. But the longer you look, the more those forms start to solidify into a shadow to mirror your own, devoid of color or feature, but unmistakably resembling your general shape. While their edges are softly blurred and out of focus, their forms rapidly begin to solidify the more you interact with them. Speaking to them, touching them, even acknowledging them by looking their way, failing to ignore them utterly, will gradually start to bring them into greater clarity and focus. They do not speak. They merely follow - a shadow of your very own, unattached and allowed sentience.
Once they're solid enough to touch, you'll begin to hear a sound. A low, repetitive tick-tick of a timepiece, moving ever closer to some unseen deadline with terrifying regularity. It starts quietly, at first, but begins to grow louder, louder, until it drowns out all else.

The apparition may soothe and speak all it likes, but the artificial dread worming in your heart refuses to be shucked away. Everything else is a shadow hostile, a creature mistrusted. The fog is a tripwire that will surely trap you; that person approaching from over that hill? Doubtless here to kill you, and see that your invisible clock winds to an end.

But that dark storm boiling in the shadow behind you? Surely that has nothing to do with it...

---

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

Maka Albarn | Soul Eater (anime) | CRAU (The Box)

[the_word_is]

Planet of the Apes

The girl on the beach grits her teeth, tightens the straps of her tattered backpack, and shifts her grip on her knife (a shiv, really, broken glass lashed to a wooden handle). She's fifteen, but looks younger thanks to a few years of malnutrition and hardship. Her jeans are torn at one knee, her shirt has a rip in the stitches of one sleeve, and there's a thin layer of grime that covers her from her short blonde hair to her combat boots. But she doesn't really give a fuck about the dirt right now. After all, it's not like anyone had running water to bathe in, and in this dreamscape she's got bigger issues to worry about.

She dodges a fired coconut as she jumps back from the jungle's edge, the scarred corners of her mouth pulled back in a snarl that almost matches the apes. Time to kill some things, or at least scare the shit out of them.

Burd is the Wurd

Eggs.

Maka's used to hunting and gathering her food by now, and there's no way she's passing up a chance for such an easy protein source.

Which means that there's a determined teenage girl racing through the jungle with an improvised leaf-basket full of spotted eggs, chased by an angry clucking mob.

Tick Tick Tick Tick Tick Tick Tick

Here it is. Here it finally is. The thing she's been on edge for since her arrival, the thing that crawls out of the shadows and twists into horror. She's used to horror, it shows in the determined grit of her teeth and the hollowness in her cheeks and the scars carving their way across her face.

For the most part, Maka manages to ignore the insects, hoping that if they're ignored they'll go away, since throwing things at them and glaring didn't work for her. So she ignores them, ignores their silvery forms and the way they follow her moves, casts occasional glances and brushes of soul perception back towards them. If she ignores them, maybe they'll go away. If they attack her, she'll fight. If anything attacks her, she'll fight, and with the tension and anger building in her soul, "attack" is a term with a wide range of possible interpretations.

Tock Tock Tock Tock Tock

[achievementhunter]

This is different, from the usual dreams they've had. Gone is the vaguely familiar shores of the island, leaving them in dense fog amidst a barely discernible terrain. As they wander, Chara stumbles more than once; tripping over a rock or incline that goes unnoticed until it's too late.

And then there's the bugs. Large roaches, clicking like the hands of a clock as they scurry underfoot, shooting out from secret burrows and out of sight in seconds. It's doing nothing for their paranoia, shoulders tense to the point of aching as they do their best to keep their venture quiet, unwilling to allow anything the element of surprise. Back straight, breathing even.

There's no sense in panicking, not now.

The first sign of someone else close by is her form. Simply a shadow in the mist, too solid to be anything but another person. They're not stupid enough to call out- there's more foes than friends, here. Far more.

Quickly, they crouch down, tucking themself into a smaller target, and wait.

Knife at the ready between stiff fingers.

[the_word_is]

She sends out pings of soul perception, sharp blasts like radar to scan the area without the energy drain of constant observation. It isn't working properly, the world is a mess of color and energy and -----


someone's behind her. Maka whirls around, trying to look past the shifting, misty, ticking shadow, trying to see who (what) is lurking in the dark behind her. She shifts her grip on her knife, more on edge than before.

[achievementhunter]

That form is very quick to whip around. They don't move- not an inch, hardly daring to breath as it stands facing their direction. All of their instincts scream that making a mistake now, the slightest of missteps, would lead to some very painful consequences.

What they should do, is wait for her to turn again. The ground is covered with rocks; perfect for tossing in the opposite direction to mislead and steal the advantage.

If Maka ever deems to turn, they'll attempt to do just that.

[the_word_is]

.-- .... --- .- .-. . -.-- --- ..- [She taps out on the flashlight button on the side of her phone. Who are you in little bursts of light in the fog.]

.-- .... --- .- .-. . -.-- --- ..- [One hand holding her phone, the other gripping her knife, she walks forward. Maka Albarn has the sort of courage that lets her fight through her fear, that turns trepidation into forward movement.

The ticking shadows circle her, trail behind her, mimic her movements as they condense into something like her form.]

[achievementhunter]

[The hell is that supposed to be?

They blink at the first, sudden flash of light, mouthing a few choice curses as the flickers continue. Are they attempting to blind them? A distraction, just to ensure that they get the advantage- lash out first, before Chara's eyes can adjust to the new stimuli.

That is not how this story is going to end. Gritting their teeth, the child lurches forward, sending the rocks around them clattering away as the blade in their hand ignites. Racing forwards, their blade sweeps through the mist- aiming to slash the enemy back. Repel them long enough for Chara to get a good look at them, and discover what is best to finish it off for good.

[the_word_is]

[As much as she hopes for a peaceful resolution, she knows it's unlikely, knows there's going to be a fight. Something rushes towards her out of the darkness, and she dodges backwards, trying to avoid the strike. Insufficient. The knife grazes her left arm with the familiar sting of a shallow cut, but not enough to incapacitate her. Her time in the Box has only sharpened her skills, years of training just enhanced by the constant stress of survival.

Before the Box, Maka might have given this stranger the benefit of the doubt. She might have given them a second chance, stepped back and flared her soul as a warning and announced her intentions and the danger her attacker was in. But now... well, she can't exactly say anything anymore.

Her soul does flare out instinctively, energy gathering and building, a glow visible with sixth sense but also a shockwave of air pressure that whips at her short-cropped hair and the straps of her backpack and sends sand billowing into the air as it stirs the mist into swirls. She grits her teeth and slashes out with her own knife, aiming for her attacker's face. A shard of glass across the eyes will stop anything in its tracks.]

[achievementhunter]

[Their very first instinct, when face to fact with the enemy, is to duck. Sometimes, their height is a boon- an advantage in making themself a smaller target. They hear and feel the whistle of something thin and sharp over their head, mere inches from their scalp.

And their second thought, born from surprise and a short moment of processing, is that they recognize that SOUL. They had told her once that the colors of a SOUL had significant meaning. She had always made them think of JUSTICE.

Maka. They almost say her name aloud, but in the fog and mist, her presence is not a friendly apparition, but a danger. A trick to lower their guard, and LOVE bubbles in the back of their throat, disgusted at the guise this threat has decided to take.

She'll find some other kid, and forget about you.

You'll NEVER see her again.

Their own SOUL bursts from their chest, darting out to hover over an open palm. Bright, blood red- had she not told them, before? Red SOULs mean something different, in her world. Something terrible.

It's as ugly a distraction as they can provide, lunging at her with a feral hiss.]

[the_word_is]

[Red, bright and violent, and while Chara is right about it meaning something terrible, they're missing something important.

Maka Albarn has trained for years to kill terrible things.

The creature in front of her is small, child-sized, and she adjusts her stance, adjusts her movements and her aim to compensate for fighting someone close to her own height. Red is a warning sign, even though Maka should have learned by now not to go on first impressions. She doesn't have time for a more intense assessment of the soul in front of her, and the color alone paints a massive target sign.

So there's no hesitation, just a match to Chara's headlong rush. Or, not a match, not exactly. A rush and a dodge, sidestepping at the last second and slashing out at her opponent's side, then back behind them to aim a knee into a kidney.]

[achievementhunter]

[When they think of Maka, they don't necessarily think competent. It's a dire mistake to make, when their memories of her consist entirely of peaceful moments- conversations and quiet breakdowns. She'd taught them of the SOULs of her world. She had told them she was a fighter.

This is the first time that they can truly believe that, cemented and reinforced by a hot flash of pain in their side. They yell when her foot connects as well- they're well on their way to hitting the ground face first, throwing out their free hand to take the brunt of the impact.

And rolling away immediately, well aware that she has full advantage, with momentum an additional boon to her side.]

[the_word_is]

[She doesn't press the advantage. Her opponent is down and Maka backs up, putting space between them despite every instinct and the ticking in her head pushing her forward. She has caution in her now, a caution born of years of distorted perceptions and of having her hand forced by those in control. There's something going on, and so Maka stays her hand.]

[achievementhunter]

[It's a boon they aren't expecting- one that gives them the time they need to get to their feet and face her, ignoring the tear in their side. It's going to slow them down- a disadvantage.

They've fought under worse, if it comes back to that. But right now-]

Maka Albarn. It is you, correct?

[the_word_is]

[Her patience is rewarded with her name said in a stranger's voice. It's a new experience for Maka, especially since her memories of the Box are intact (she's not like TJ, gone and come back again).

A sharp nod, but no signs of being any less tense. Her grip doesn't so much as shift on her knife and her posture makes it clear she's ready to spring back into the fight if necessary.]

[achievementhunter]

[Not a confirmation they needed, but it has it's uses. She's listening, at least- not simply attacking outright. So they keep talking, holding their blade at the ready all the while.]

I take it from your SOUL that you are not simply a figment of the mist. In which case, I propose a draw.

I'll put down my weapon, if you put down yours.

[the_word_is]

[Another nod, and Maka slips her knife carefully into the deerskin sheath hidden in the pocket of her hoodie. There's no hesitation before the movement, just acceptance of the terms.

She does wait for the stranger to put their knife away before stepping closer with a sheepish sort of concern.]

Sorry [she signs, not really expecting understanding. Her whiteboard is buried inside her overstuffed backpack.] Are you okay?

[achievementhunter]

[...On second thought, this is precisely the lack of self-preservation they'd expect from her. Raising their brow upon her approach, it practically disappears beneath their fringe as she signs to them- that's new.

Which means she isn't who they think she is, after all.]

I'll live. Your arm?

[the_word_is]

[She grins, flashing a reassuring thumbs up, her movements and expressions just slightly bigger than Chara might expect. She's had way worse in spars with her friends.]

Your name?

[achievementhunter]

K-i-d-w-u-n. [They finger-spell it for her, first, before adding their name sign; the finger sign for k, tapped lightly against their chest.

The gesture is a little awkward- rusty, maybe.]

Are you out here alone?

BIRDS and please excuse my single icon I'm going to get more later [UNMEND @ BIRDS]

[youneedonly]

Maka and her gaggle of followers are heard well before they're seen; a flock that big and angry is going to be more than loud enough to wake the neighborhood.

If Maka's keen-eyed - which she probably is - she'll see the man in black armor as she rounds a bend, with his sword already in hand just in case. And she'll see him sigh and shrug, body language slightly exaggerated to make up for his hidden face.

Then he lifts one hand away from his sword and uses it to fire some kind of dark energy burst into the flock of birds. It's hard to tell if it hit any particular one, but the flock as a whole turns in his direction. They'll have a far more difficult time landing any meaningful hits on someone in full armor - at least it's good for its intended purpose even if he's far too warm underneath.

"Over here, you dumb bastards," he calls as the birds swarm. "Give me some sport, would you?"

aw yeah

[the_word_is]

Maka sees him and slides, a full out baseball move underneath the raised hand to give the stranger enough room for that raised hand and the blast of energy. Once she's past the stranger, she turns the slide into a roll, up onto her knees and facing back towards the carnage. She doesn't exactly like it, but she isn't about to stop someone who's not aiming that aggression at humans.

[+ Darkside and then Power Slash combo until they're down]

[youneedonly]

It really won't take that long - individual birds fall in one or two sharp sweeps of the greatsword, leaving feathers and blood clinging to it. Fray does seem to notice that she chooses to hang around, from the brief glance the helm makes back in her direction, but the birds have most of his attention.

As happens when you have an overlevelled character dealing with low levelled mobs, the birds don't last. A distinct aura of bloodlust remains in the air around Fray, red flecks visible out of the corner of the eye, but he seems satisfied for the time being.

Returning the sword to its place on his back, he pulls the helm off to wipe the sweat from his face as best he can. "All well back there?" he asks before turning her way.

[the_word_is]

[It's messy. Maka's used to deaths, she's used to killing, she's used to hunting for food. But that's just messy.

Maka nods, confirming that she's all right as she steps closer. A gesture at the birds, and a question in her expression. Can she take what's left, or does he want them?]

[youneedonly]

[...Huh, another quiet girl. This one seems more expressive than Rielle, at least. Fray doesn't bother trying to put the helmet back on until he's cooled off a little; no reason to be a completely sealed can out here.

Plus, if the girl's nervous, actually being able to see his face might make her less so. It worked with Rielle.]

Split it? There's no way I could eat it all myself before it rots, not in this heat.

[And it's not as though he has anyone else to feed right now.]

[the_word_is]

[Quiet, but extremely expressive. The scars across her face don't stop her from puffing out her cheeks with a huff of breath. She's not in the least bit nervous as she slides her backpack off her back to dig out a whiteboard and a purple marker (also in her backpack, there's a small shifting mass of purple fur that yawns sharp teeth and then settles back to sleep).]

You should make jerky!

[That's her suggestion, written in a bubbly cursive.]

[youneedonly]

[Can't talk, not doesn't want to talk. If there's anything like pity, it vanishes quickly; he's seen worse.]

Good idea.

[It's been a while since he had much extra of anything, what with the sudden extra mouth to feed and Sid's appetite as it is... Fray sets his helmet off to the side and uses a bit of nearby vegetation to swipe the worst of bird blood from his sword.]

Should get these draining before anything else, though - I don't suppose you have any twine or anything in there?