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.

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LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

[yallstupid]

[Whoa, what--is that a gun?! Guzma stiffens a little bit - almost no one carries those things around, not even police officers and the like. In all honesty, pokemon are just as efficient...if not more so. Eyes wide, hands up and out a little, even though it's not pointed at him, Guzma stands still and waits for her to calm down because um?? Child??? WHY DO YOU HAVE A GUN????]

Yo, you actually had me sweating there for a second there, kiddo... [And the fact he's admitting it is a token to how dangerous those things are. And that's coming from an ex-gang leader who has two monstrous insectoids that can do unreal damage at his beck and call.] Hey, uh...care to tuck that thing away? Prefer not to be seeing it.

[A-Anyway, he's heading to the plank she was pulling on and gives it a few wriggles before starting to tug. Hoo boy, it's really wedged in there...Or might be nailed to something else, actually. He pushes his weight against it, hoping instead to maybe snap the piece off, before Guzma stops with a squeak of his sneakers on wet rock.]

Huh? For real? [He stares at her, blinking. That's news to him. Then again, he didn't exactly grow up like most kids do.] Mmh maybe that's why is stung like a mother. W-Well, y'can't let it go on leaking like that, neither! Here, hold on...

[Shrugging off his hoodie, he offers it out to Clem to take, the big, red X splashed over the Team Skull logo staring her right in the face.] Wrap it up. I can wash this off later, and it wouldn't be the first time blood what got on it anyway.

[takeusback]

[ She's not really surprised by his reaction - even Lee said he hadn't liked the thought of giving her a gun at first. And she hadn't like it at all when she'd first started shooting bottles. But surely he has to see why she needs it? There aren't walkers here now, but they could still appear; it looks like a big forested area after all, and even if they're slow they can surprise you sometimes.

Clementine frowns a little, not putting the gun anywhere. ] It's okay. I won't hurt you with it. It's to protect me... and mostly just for walkers. If we get attacked, I can protect us, see?

[ She takes the hoodie from him, grateful, and wraps it around her hand. ]

Thanks... I won't keep it long, and I can help you wash it. [ The sea water should be fine for that. Clementine was actually covered in blood and guts back in Savannah, she remembers that much, but the sea water seems to have washed most of it away before she got here. Wherever here is. ]

[yallstupid]

[She wont's hurt him, she says, but Guzma still seems very visibly bothered by this kid - she looks even younger than the brat, holy cow - and the fact she even has a gun at all. To protect her? From what?! What the heck kind of place does she live in that she needs something so darn dangerous instead of a companion pokemon? That actually unsettles Guzma more than anything, and with a decisive push, the plank of wood snaps and he wobbles before steadying himself.]

...Girly, I dunno what y'all call 'walkers' even are, but that thing y'got there is more dangerous than you, me, and my pokemon. And I ain't exactly a pushover. [Guzma isn't lying. Even without his two powerful pokemon, he's a hulk of a man - standing at just thereabouts 6'4" and with a lot of muscle to him; he looks like a thug, half because he is one, actually.]

[takeusback]

It's only dangerous if you don't use it properly. [ She pauses, frowning. She doesn't understand why he's so against using a gun when there's so many dead people wanting to kill everyone. What was it Lee said? ] It's just a thing. Don't be afraid of it.

The walkers are what we- I call the dead people. [ She knows others have different names for them. Though... speaking of names she's unfamiliar with- ] Um. What's a poking-man?

[yallstupid]

[Well, she's got him there, but Guzma still frowns deeply - kids shouldn't be toting around those things. Heck, not even armed forces use such dangerous weapons in most cases, unless it's extremely necessary. It just...it feels wrong. She's younger than even the brat he knows, there shouldn't be any reason for her to have access to a gun.] It ain't the gun I'm afraid of - it's bad people using 'em.

And I, uh-- [Whoa, wait, WHAT?? Dead people?] 'Scuse you? You...y-you mean ghost types, yeah? [He's pretty sure she doesn't, given poor Clem here doesn't even know what a Pokemon is, and she's not the first he's come across who doesn't. But dead people?? C-Come on, that's just in scary movies and stuff.] Pokemon. They're my homies. Uh, I mean...partners.

[He removes two Ultra Balls from an inside pocket of his hoodie, holding the metallic spheres out to Clem with his thumbs hovering over the button that'd switch them open.] Y'all afraid of spiders, girly? Or, uh...bugs? They're real big, but they won't do nothing t'no one unless I give the order.