TEST DRIVE MEME ( 001 )

[lifeaftr_mods]

Test Drive Meme #1

Hello, and welcome to our very first test drive! 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 July 17th and that Applications will open on July 24th, in preparation for the game’s official opening on August 3rd!

But first, two important notes!

1. The island of Mu 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.

Shipwrecked
The white sand of the beach ridges the island’s edge, even if the clear water soon becomes murky the further out you look across the horizon until the turquoise gleam of the tide disappears in a coil of surrounding fog. Indeed, your best prospects may very well be to strike out among the trees or the crags looming out over the foam-capped waves. There’s lumber to be found and made from the palm-like trees, potentially fruit or edible tubers of some kind if you forage about some. The further you travel, however, the more of your surroundings will reveal themselves in a steady unspooling of curiosities.

One corner of Mu’s current construct drops away into a sheer cliff, initially too dangerous to brave for all but the more daredevilish, but if one starts to scan the sharp rocks below, you might catch sight of what appears to be sodden planks of wood - a wreckage tossed up against the rocks. And a little further...a bobbing, shattered wreck of a lifeboat’s remains, potentially bearing supplies that might yet be salvageable.

Fashion what you can from the wood and stone around you or scavenge from the ruin of the land, if you like. But you can’t simply stand around and wait forever. It’s going to get dark sometime - and if a creature of unknown terror doesn’t catch you, the elements surely will.

Storytime

There’s a sense of camaraderie in this cove, you think. As the sun hangs low over the horizon, the world cast into orange hues, long shadows dispersed by roaring fires that dot across the beach.

That’s right, folks: it’s storytime.

There’s no one to preside over this meeting of the minds in Mu. Call it a vague recreation of things to come, if you like, some vaguely fatidic dreamlike state where you may find yourself drawn to the heat and company that awaits you by the fire. And from there, compelled to default to that old instinct that most of intelligent civilization has revered since they were advanced enough to paint geometric shapes on cave walls.

You tell a story.

Perhaps it’s a tragedy, a tale of woe and of personal loss. Perhaps it’s the sort of thing you’d break out after a few rounds of your alcoholic beverage of choice, clapping hands to your knees as you try to bite back your mirth long enough to spill the punchline. Perhaps it’s an adventure of some sort, some unbelievable rendition of your past exploits. The only common thread to be had, as those gathered around the fire share their tales, is the fundamental rule of a ritualistic sharing of stories such as this: its truth.

But how one chooses to define "truth" is, in its own way, another story entirely...

Dance, Sucker, Dance!
The beat of your heart in your chest is difficult to ignore. It judders with a pulsing, rhythmic quality. If you’re one of those that lacks a heart, the beat is still omnipresent and all-encompassing, until your entire body is unwittingly bobbing in time to a metronomic tune that seems ingrained into your very soul. It’s inescapable. You can’t seem to move unless it’s in time to the rhythm that’s now singing in every atom of your being.

But rest assured, you’re not alone in this musical curse. Everything, from the swaying trees to the waves against the beach, jumps in time to the music. And so do the monsters approaching you, that - wait a minute.

Monsters?

Oh, yes. Did we mention those?


It seems you’ve encountered the wrath of the Boogieman, who curses you to only dance to his infernal beat. If you wish to best him, you’ll have to either evade or destroy the blobs of greenish slime that serve as his minions, all in time to the hard beat of the tune in your head. Clear the radius of his curse or risk an open confrontation, if you dare. Don’t worry if you look foolish; chances are anyone else caught in the Boogieman’s thrall feels just the same.

Mu isn’t pulling any punches to start with. It is a flighty creation, after all, and seems to revel in displacing people into new and uncomfortable situations.

---

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

[yallstupid]

[This guy reminds Guzma too much of Hala, down to the wrinkles around his eyes and that obnoxiously tender-souled laugh and that strong sense of something more to him. Something beyond the age that speaks of wisdom, experience, and strength. It irks younger male to no end; makes his blood boil, and his heart grind in his chest. Stupid, old geezers are all the same... He hates it. He hates being reminded of that old Crustle and his idiotic promise to set him straight, to change him. To take him under his wing again...

As Guzma reminisces briefly, he looks up and--oh, here we go. Show's about to start. Raising a brow, Guzma watches and waits. He's expecting anything other than what happens next though, and when it does? His jaw drops.

Is...is he for real right now? No way he's actually serious. Shaking his head, a scowl settling on his face, Guzma does what any guy would do in this situation--]

Boooo!! [THUMBS DOWN. VOTE HIM OFF THE ISLAND.]

[lionson]

[That. Actually gets a reaction from Shiro, interestingly enough.]

Hey! Don't go talkin' shit, at least I'm trying to be diplomatic here!

[Spoilers: Guzma is a lot like Rin, but Rin is also a lot like Shiro. Shiro just had a few decades to calm down a bit.]

[yallstupid]

[...Okay, scratch that, this guy's not like Hala at all. He's more like Nanu - tired, irritable, but intrinsically a good guy, deep down (maybe). Probably tough as nails, too, just lazy as all hell.]

Yeah, and it's working great.

[He points to a slime that's getting awfully close to Shiro's foot there, ready to ooze its way up his leg in a fashion similar to how one attacked Guzma before.]

[lionson]

[Tough as nails, but lazy as hell. That is an extremely accurate description of Shiro.

But he does glance back, and is quick to scramble away from the slimes as they get a little too close. Then he stands there for a moment, looking over the situation at hand.]

Well, that didn't work.

[At least he can admit when he's wrong?]

[yallstupid]

[Unbelievable. Guzma rubs a hand down his face and grumbles something about "useless, senile prunes" swiftly under his breath as he reaches inside his hoodie and fishes out an Ultra Ball from a pocket therein.]

Wow...wow. You sure showed me. [Enough playing around, those goopy, green things are getting way too close for comfort, and if they wanna dance? Well, they can dance. With a firm toss, he lobs the ball out toward the sea of goo, crying out Golisopod's name as the ball snaps open and reveals the mighty insect. Guzma catches the ball as it flies back toward him and he pockets it again.] Swords Dance, Golisopod!

[With a guttural rumbling, the insect moves with speed and grace that seems almost unnatural for its hulking size, clanging those black claws together or against its hard shell, standing and flexing its arms and its shell and claws gleam dangerously. They're sharper now, more dangerous. +2 Attack]

[lionson]

[It's fine, Shiro is biding his time. This is a team effort after all, so he's got to give Guzma his turn.

And he has to admit, the Golisopod is pretty impressive. It's not a demon Shiro has ever seen before, but that doesn't make it scary or anything. Admittedly, a dance doesn't really seem like a good way to stop the slimes, especially with how they're still advancing. So Shiro will call out to Guzma:]

I don't think dancing alone is gonna be enough here, kid.

[yallstupid]

[Call Guzma big, buggy buddy that to his face and Guzma may have no reservations about actually trying to punch Shiro in the face, elder though he may be. He chuckles softly at the comment, tilting his head to the side with a confident smirk.]

See, that's why you old timers ain't got no style. Gotta start with a First Impression, yeah?

[He waggles his eyebrows, that smirk growing to a full on grin as Golisopod's antennae twitch to the given command, and the slimes advance maybe another centimeter before the massive insect dashes through them and cleaves a wide gap through the goopy monsters. Its claws cutt through them like jello, boosted attack making its already powerful claws even more deadly. It's fast, too - shockingly so (priority moves and all) - and a good percentage of the slimes it took down dissolve into sticky puddles, defeated. This is half why Golisopod is Guzma's ace, after all.]

[lionson]

I would certainly say your friend there has made a good impression, yes.

[Since Guzma's first impression was running away and all.

Yeah he's just giving Guzma shit at this point. He's also looking at the man standing on the other side of the quickly-thinning herd of slimes. That guy there, that's the real target.]

But I hope you don't mind if I cut in here- [Feel the puns, feel them burn] -but we might need a softer touch to finish this.

[aka don't go stabbing the human, that's rude.

Punching him is a much better idea. He'll leave the slimes to Guzma and Golisopod, since they're doing so good at that.]