aftr_ooc | 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:

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 )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Useless.

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.]

[the naked emotion on mccree's face is enough to give reyes pause, despite the itch under his skin to keep moving. he likes to think he's pretty good at getting a read on people, analyzing their tone, their expression, their body language, but even if that particular skill set wasn't something the commander had, the dejection radiating from mccree is obvious. whoever this man is, claims to be, he's not just another pair of boots on the ground. this blackwatch agent looks at him like there's something between them, enough of something to make the man look like a kicked dog when gabriel calls him useless.

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.]

Couldn't rightly say.

[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.]

[if reyes said he was surprised by the question, he'd be flat-out lying. the longer the conversation went on, the greater the chance that it would pop up. simple as that. despite his gut instinct warning him about delving too deeply into this, reyes is still curious enough to answer the guy. it's not like mccree is the only one who needs answers about their abrupt (and, to gabriel, completely unknown) shift in dynamic.

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.]

Oh.

[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.]

TEST DRIVE MEME ( 004 )

the icon represents what this conversation makes him want 2 do

dont spend all your god favors on booze mccree.................

you can't tell him what to do, you're not his real dad

u right but he's also not his fake dad either :^))))))

WOW OK YOU DON'T GOTTA AIM SO LOW