The Mods of LifeAftr (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lifeaftr_mods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
aftr_ooc2017-10-14 09:04 pm
lifeaftr_mods) wrote in aftr_ooc2017-10-14 09:04 pm
Entry tags:
TEST DRIVE MEME ( 004 )
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:
Remember that Reserves will open on October 17th and that Applications will open on October 24th!
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.
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.
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...
( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )
b! >:3c
There's just too many things wrong. Unnatural. From the mounds of flesh devouring anything in their path, to the monkey's intent on murder, to the various other beasts and hazards here. (And that's not even counting the odd travelers brought in by the Storyteller. A stranger bunch than even his Blackwatch cohorts.)
What's the strangest thing, perhaps, is the man McCree recognizes tearing through the bush. It's stupid, he knows, but he can't help reaching out, trying to grab onto the man's arms, trying to halt his mad dash through the trees. It's undeniably Commander Reyes - he'd know that face anywhere - but he's never seen the man look so...look so...
So scared.]
Whoa there, Commander!
[Where's the fire?]
vibrating>:3cface.gif.mp4
the fear in his eyes, laced into the fibers of his muscles as he instinctively reaches out to subdue the stranger (get him away, neutralize the threat), isn't for him. the malevolent clock tick, tick, ticking away in his head is a countdown for someone else, someone he could fail, someone he could let die if he doesn't get out of here.
a snarl rips out of him as reyes tosses the man who grabbed him over his shoulder. it's only by a divine stroke of luck that his shotgun isn't loaded, out of shells from his previous battle at home. luckily, it doesn't need to be loaded to look intimidating.]
Don't move. Don't even breathe funny.
no subject
Later, when he's not so spooked by how spooked his CO is, would be the time. For now, though, he's more concerned with not getting killed or...Something worse.]
Wasn't plannin' on doin' anythin' of the sort, Commander.
[He puts his hands up, the universal sign of "hey pal please don't shoot me maybe?" as he eyes the shotguns.
There are a few things he knows about those shotguns. One, they can absolutely tear someone apart.
Two, they can absolutely tear some apart.
Three, this close? McCree would absolutely get torn apart.]
Just' wanna know what's got you all...like this?
[And how he could help, but that much should be able to go unsaid.]
no subject
[it had been literal years since anyone had addressed gabriel by rank; maybe even some years before the omnic crisis had gotten underway. a sir here and there, a respectful nod or tone, sure. SEP had been the first time in his career where being an officer hadn't meant shit and being in overwatch? they were pretty much a motley band of crafty civilians and grizzled veterans. no one called him his rank.
so who the hell was this guy, suddenly calling him commander and looking at him like he knew him? did it matter? in the end, the stranger in the ridiculous get-up was just in the way. if he knew what was good for him, he'd either help reyes get out of here and stay out of it.
despite the stranger baring his metaphorical throat as an olive branch, tail between his legs in surrender, gabriel's stance doesn't relent an inch. the shotgun is still heavy in his hand, finger on the trigger even if won't actually do anything. the ticking of the clock doesn't stop, won't stop for anything.]
You've got fifteen seconds to tell me who you are and if there's a way back.
no subject
[It's something like a slap in the face. He's spent the past decade just...Just trying, adapting, becoming something he never expected to be and...
And it doesn't even matter.
Nothing he did, nothing he went through in some pathetic attempt to get Reyes' approval, has meant a damn thing up to this moment.]
Agent Jesse McCree, Blackwatch, most recently stationed at Watchpoint: Gibraltar.
[He chews on his lip, a poor replacement for a cigarette. It wouldn't surprise him if his lip was bleeding, cracked from how many times his gnawed on it out of stress or habit.
He feels pathetic. Ridiculous. Not even because it hurts so damn much, but because there's a stupid, hopeful part of him that hopes that saying his name will get Reyes to...to snap out of it. Like it's just his memories being all clogged up by whatever strange forces are going on in this island, but his name will be enough to break through.]
'Fraid there's no way off that anyone's been able to find, or any luck tryin' to contact outsiders.
no subject
it's obvious this one knows something and not just about the island. blackwatch, a watchpoint in spain. the core members of overwatch had started calling their hastily built HQs 'watchpoints' as a joke; a bit of levity amid a bleak outlook. whatever blackwatch was, it had something to with overwatch, that much was sure.
as for the so-called blackwatch agent? the way he looked at reyes, like there was an old familiarity there, unnerved him. gabriel prided himself on his memory; he could recall men under his charge from the first time he had put on a gold bar. this one, though... there was nothing. he had never met anyone named jesse mccree, especially no one dressed like that.]
Useless.
[an offhand statement, though true. if this man, mccree, had no information worth a damn, then there was no point in sticking around. only through an internal struggle between his logical side and his hyperactive paranoia was reyes finally able to lower his weapon, finger still wrapped around the trigger.]
Where are we then? Tell me you at least know that.
the icon represents what this conversation makes him want 2 do
It's not the first time McCree's been called useless - and it won't be the last. Useless is a word that he hears over and over, sometimes in jest, and...sometimes, in moments like this, it's not a joke.
The word has never felt as painful before.
He knows Reyes isn't exactly the cuddliest fella, isn't exactly all sunshine and rainbows, but...He cares. He's one of the first people McCree remembers meeting who actually...cares. So knowing that Reyes, even with how strange he's acting, thinks he's useless...?
It shakes him. The disbelief and hurt is plain on his face, and McCree just. He doesn't know what to do. Reyes doesn't know who he is, isn't acting anything like what McCree would have expected, and he just.
He really is useless, isn't he?]
The...the archipelago is called Life After. Not so sure 'bout the name of this particular island, but it's not so different from the rest.
[He laughs, forcefully aiming for "nonchalant" or maybe even "self-deprecating" but it just sounds strangled and hollow to his ears.]
dont spend all your god favors on booze mccree.................
but why? and, most importantly, when? if gabriel can still recall the faces of the dead that he's come across in the last few years, why can't he remember someone who stood out like a sore thumb?
the ticking becomes incessant, a buzz echoing in his skull. there's no time to ask. stay focused; mind on the mission. besides, reyes can't think of much else when the words 'life' and 'after' stumble out of mccree's mouth. what kind of sick joke was this? was he actually...?]
We're not...dead, are we?
[it's probably one of the weirdest questions he's ever bothered to utter, but it begs to be voiced. after what he had just come from, after what he had ran into, waking up on a peaceful beach in the middle of nowhere had seemed to point to only one explanation. he just hoped it wasn't actually true.]
you can't tell him what to do, you're not his real dad
[He can do this - just. Force down all the emotions, the clawing need to know what happened to make Gabriel Reyes forget who he is. There's a reason for all of this, he's sure. Maybe not a good reason, or one McCree will be able to understand but...
There has to be something. Something to explain why someone he holds in such high regard, someone who saved him, would look at him like he's never seen him before in his life.]
Wouldn't put my money on it, on account of still needin' to do things like eat and sleep and still feelin' pain, but...Don't know. Nobody does, 'cept maybe the Storyteller.
[But lots of folk don't seem to trust the god, and McCree's not sure he would, either. Doesn't much matter to him if what they say is true or not, though. Doesn't matter why he was brought here, what his story is going to be.
He's just...dealing with it. Dealing with everything one step at a time, but this...this vision of Reyes is making it so much harder.]
Do you...not remember me, sir?
[It's a question that's been stuck in his throat, waiting, since Reyes first looked at him like a stranger. It's not a question he wants the answer to (hearing it would just make it worse, so much worse) but he can't stop himself.
He's never been very good at self-control.]
u right but he's also not his fake dad either :^))))))
following mccree down this rabbit hole of mistaken identities could solve at least one of his problems. or it could just cause the ridiculously-dressed agent to give even bigger, puppy dog eyes.]
I've never met you.
[the one thing he can say with certainty.]
Who do you think I am?
[there's little possibility that mccree is mistaking him for literally anyone else. gabriel reyes isn't exactly a common name and he doesn't have a common face. unfortunately, stranger things have happened in his life.]
WOW OK YOU DON'T GOTTA AIM SO LOW
[Oh.
It- it explains some things, is about the best answer McCree could have hoped for. But it raises just as many questions as it answers.
If this is a Gabriel Reyes who's never met him, then...
Who is he?]
Commander Gabriel Reyes.
[Though he figures the question is more "Who am I to you?"]
You're my... [Father? No, that's...it's not true, for one, no matter how many times people joke. McCree's not desperate enough to believe there's anything familial about their interactions, though it's a close thing.
Friend feels even less like the truth.
Commanding officer is the barest form of the facts, but it still doesn't feel...Right.]
I've been serving under you for ten years.
[Give or take, for various meanings of the word serve. For some of those years it was more like...an extended probation and Reyes was his parole officer.]