aftr_ooc | TEST DRIVE MEME ( 001 )

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*test drive meme

TEST DRIVE MEME ( 001 )

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 )

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["No one"

It is an answer yet not one at the same time. They are a child that stands before him, seemly made of flesh and blood much like the Batter was. Or rather, were in possession of flesh and could bleed, but that was splitting hairs and the Batter cared not.

If the child did not wish to reveal their name, that was fine. He didn't care.

And so the man doesn't press the mystery before him. He moves on again.]

I do not dream. Where is the exit?

[Neither the Judge nor Zacharie were around to aid him, so this was the next best thing.]

Are you certain of that?

[Because if not, it certainly raises some interesting questions. Chara resolves to put those to the back of their mind; such questions held the same sort of unpleasant sensations as this man's very presence did.

They were dreaming. There was no other answer that was acceptable.]

I'm afraid you will find no exits here. That is not how a dream works. They end when they decide to end.

Yes.

[It's said with a blunt certainty. Much like Chara thought "This is a dream." was the only acceptable answer, the fact this wasn't a dream was the only one the Batter would accept. He did not dream. His existence ended with the pull of the switch. There was no reason to.

And no one knew the Batter better than himself. He couldn't not know.]

I will end it. I should not be here.

[It's as simple as that.]

[They do not like this man.

They do not like him even remotely. There is nothing about him; not in his face, not in the general air around him, that is safe. If their Partner is around here... they want him nowhere near them.

In fact, they would have been more comfortable had he not existed at all.

Chara has a feeling they know precisely what part of themself this man is portraying, in this dream. The truth is ugly. It's

Human.]

Can you truly say you have that right, in a world that does not belong to you?

[Human. And so he will remain.

But there's something wrong. Something in the way that he stands, the way that Chara might catch something red under the brim of his hat as the shadows move. In the way that, somehow, he may seem a bit bigger than he appears to be.

The feeling of staring up at a tsunami and down at a child's toy. Or, perhaps, simply coming into contact with a child that had a knife? But that's not him.

It's you.

One would think, after being challenged, that the Batter's tone would change. But it doesn't. Just the same icy assurance.]

Yes. This dream will come to an end by my own hands.

[That's all there is to it.]

I see.

[Chara smiles.]

Then there is no further need to speak.

[After all- this place isn't real. A twisted illusion of their (and perhaps Frisk's, as well) mind, displaced into fragments of what it was they had been, once. Metaphorically.

A tsunami and a child's plaything, peering back through the mirror.

It's me, Chara.

There is no such thing as a fair FIGHT, these days. His only warning is the hand that whips round to pluck a blade from it's hiding place against their lower back- then Chara lashes out.]

[The child is right. There isn't a need to speak any longer.

But for a different, if familiar reason.

Chara is fast but after dealing with ghosts for all of his life, so was the Batter. He dodges to the side, not a clean MISS but it will do. Chara's only warning of his retaliating attack is the distinct smell of rotting meat as Run with Belief activates and the Batter takes a swing at them with his bat.

One would expect hesitation against a child. There is none.

But if this is just a dream, why would they be surprised? It's just you, after all.]

[Their knife catches fabric, mostly. They feel the lack of pressure, presume from instinct and hard lessons learned that retaliation can't be far behind. A whistle of air beside them; something long and heavy cutting across the space where they would have been, had there been even a moment's hesitation.

There shall be no such thing here.

They dance away several steps, allowing themself to spin with the momentum. Round on their opponent with their blade held in a confident grip, feet planted firmly on the ground when they still. No words- not necessary.

But the smile never leaves. Surely you're not going to dance with a bat, sir?]

[Miss. Not that he's put out that the attack missed. It happens.

This one was incredibly fast. That much was obvious. Their range was also short like his, but the Batter would not discount the possibility of a long ranged attack until he saw it. So that leaves one thing he could do, besides the obvious. Something Chara might find very familiar, yet not. Wide Angle.

????
An unknown being with an apparent fondness for bladed weapons.
HP: ??? / CP: ???
No weaknesses/resistances

Not quite the amount of information he would of liked, but it was enough for now. The Batter doesn't immediately attack this time, instead observing Chara. Your turn child, if you plan on taking it.]

[The sense of it, at least, is not unfamiliar. It feels like the sun beaming through glass windows. Looks like golden light through a long corridor.

One never forgets the feeling of being judged, do they? He undoubtedly knows that feeling as well.

And yet they make no move to return the assessment in kind. They stand, unable to feel their sins crawling on their back. That is the issue with such things, of course. One must exist for judgement to hold any weight.

One must be the correct judge for it to hold meaning.

Their smile stretches wider, hand twisting around the hilt of their blade. When they come at him next? The metal is alight with fire.

Let's see if you have any weaknesses.]

[Judgement is not a thing one forgets. Something that tears viciously into skin and mind as the gavel is slammed down, be it by a judge or The Judge. Ending that world of rot and rust had not made the Batter forget anything. One does not forget their own funeral march and the being that saw fit to tally up their sins once they reached the River Styx.

For the Batter it had been a cat.
You were the only one who escaped the consequences.
Chara had a skeleton and their own self.

But in the end, none of it mattered. The child's blade alights with an element that the Batter is not familiar with but is easily deduced to be dangerous. So he moves out of the way quickly. He doesn't return the favor, however.

This was new. And, for the moment, he will observe.]

[There are rules which do and don't apply, whenever the setting seems to require it. Sol Raveh had been a place where rules would get one killed; you struck, and you kept striking until you tired, until your enemy dissipated into a plume of ugly black smoke.

This is a dream. The rules may not apply, anymore, but Chara has some standards. They'd taken their shot, and now it's his turn. So they stand and face him, almost playfully swinging their blade back and forth.

A bat has a rather longer ranger than their own weapon. They needed to focus on his arm- on the shifts that would tell which way he would swing.

Messing up could easily be the difference between making it out of this unscathed and facing oblivion once more.]

[It is curious to see them hold back when they at least had an advantage in speed over the Batter. And perhaps maybe he was used to his enemies coming at him at all times, not holding back to give him a chance to attack.

Save a few.

But he had come to the same conclusions that Chara had. They were faster but the Batter could simply dodge. The Batter had an advantage regarding range but his attacks were easily telegraphed. This had been a case of simply defending himself when the child attacked, but he would not back down until they did.

The Add-On's presence would have made this easier. But since they were not here, he would improvise.

Careful to stay out of the knife's range, the Batter begins a flurry of attacks. Normal ones, to conserve CP in case he needed it. But he's not under the impression any of these attacks will hit unless he gets lucky. They're mostly a cover to keep the child's focus on his weapon until the Batter suddenly kicks out, aiming to catch them with a foot.

There's no finesse behind it but it is sudden. And it is a good way to test how fast they can adapt to changes in an enemy's strategies.

And, hopefully, that is the only thing that changes in this fight...]

[The attacks don't land, though Chara has the impression that they're not meant to. The weight of those blows is lighter, if no less fast. Searching, in a similar fashion to the way their eyes track his shoulders. It's an almost delicate dance until he decides to disrupt it- in a way they aren't expecting.

A foot collides with the back of their knee, and Chara goes down silently. There's a shift in their expression; a moment of surprise and perhaps even fear.

If they hit the ground before they respond, they'll die.

It's this, coupled with too many times (far too many times) of close calls that has them twisting, slapping their free hand to the ground to force their momentum in a specific direction. They don't waste time looking up- don't waste time waiting to see a bat ready to come crashing down on their skull.

They're too busy letting their body collide with his legs, before taking a stab upwards.]

[In battle, having an upper hand was always an advantage and directing things towards that moment where it can be used. That was what the flurry of blows was and seeing Chara go down was the end result.

But not the end, it seems.

Both of Chara's actions connect, although luckily enough for the Batter the stab wound isn't that deep. He still hisses in pain because it does hurt regardless and that's what you're supposed to do. But the Batter has one final trick left, one that he has yet to use.

Save First Base.

There's a flash of light and the wound is healed. He may need to take care of it farther, but for now it will do. In the meantime, if Chara hasn't taken the opportunity to get away, he'll try to grab them with his free hand. By the arm, front of their sweater, or even their throat. He's not picky.

And if Chara is too slow...they'll find out the hard way he has no plans on letting go.]

[It's not his arm they grab, nor their sweater. Perhaps thankfully for the both of them, it's not Chara's throat, either.

It's their hair. A sharp, rough yank at their scalp, unforgiving fingers digging in. And that action is not a monster technique. It's not a recent sensation at all.

It's old. It's so, eternally old that they'd almost forgotten the sensation entirely. It comes with the instinct to flinch, to raise one arm and cover their face- a momentary aberration, quickly rectified as survival instincts kick in and Chara stabs upwards blindly. Again, again, again, again, A g a i n, À̷͇͎͍̞͈̣͔͓̈́͋̂̈́̽̃̎̾̽ G̸̢̧̛̬͚̘̥̖̘͔̑̎͗̐̏̈́̈̚͜ Ǎ̷̺̱̮̻̟͌͂͗̂̇̍͛͌͢͠ Ȉ̶̯͚̩̦̭͕͌͘̕͝ Ņ̵̦̦͔̩͚̥̪̺̀̌͆͊́͌͞

[Blade meets flesh with a dull thunk and for the first time since this conversation began, the Batter's expression changes slightly to that of pain. The emotional distress of being stabbed was still far away from him, but it was never not painful to have something attack your flesh. Another flash of light signals another use of Save First Base but the Batter wasn't foolish enough to think that would be the end of it.

He was very vulnerable in this position and the purifier's only saving grace was that Chara was attacking blindly. The strikes of their blade were not the precise swipes that they were before, so while they were hitting they weren't doing as much damage as they should. But all it would take was one lucky strike or Chara regaining their composure...

Focus. Remove the problem or remove yourself. The Batter decides to do both.

His grip on the child's hair had remained and he puts it to use. Keeping his grip as tight as possible he swings his arm to the side, attempting to pull Chara off of him and onto the ground. The Batter doesn't follow up with a strike however, and will try to use the moment to get back on his feet and put some distance between the two of them.

Even if it sets things back to zero again, it was for the best.]

[Their reward is hitting the ground hard, letting that momentum roll them, as undignified as it is. The state of their clothes is nothing to be worried about now- they've been dustier for far worse than this.

Once upon a time, someone told them to breathe. They don't have their phone, anymore- just the memory. They know what it's like, to have someone pick them up off the ground.

They know what it's like, when someone doesn't drop them again, whether they deserved that or not. It wasn't pity, or selflessness. Everyone has an agenda.

The Batter is hardly going to coddle them. The hand that helps them upright is their own, a split lip leaving a streak of blood down their chin. It's satisfying, in a cold way, to see they're doing far better than their opponent.

It's still somewhat of a stalemate. Thumbing the edge of their blade, they watch him carefully- scalp throbbing.]

...Might I make a suggestion here, sir.

[It is unfortunate, but Chara has a point. They are doing better than the Batter was. Clearly he underestimated them. He still had access to Save First Base and stronger, but his limit for CP was approaching fast. For some reason he wasn't as strong as he once was.

Was that because the Puppeteer was gone?

Regardless, he could continue with normal attacks but that would leave them with the same problems as before: Chara was faster but the Batter had more range then that of a knife. And after that scuffle it was doubtful that either of them would allow the other to get that close again.

So he doesn't say anything, nor does he relax. But the Batter is listening.

For now.]

[They wait in silence, for an action that isn't forthcoming. As it continues to draw out, they take it as their indication to continue, eyes straying to their knife. Watching as the blood gathers at the tip.

And right down to the ground.]

The most likely outcome, should you wish to continue, is that we both die. One sooner than the other, perhaps, but die we shall.

[Their eyes go to him once more, smile thin.]

I have things to do. And you, sir? Are not going to end anything like this.

[Logical.

They could continue this, easily. The Batter had what remained of his CP and the Luck and Fortune Tickets stowed away. The child possibly had their own means of helping themselves.

But this would end with death. His and the child's, in whatever order it may fall. The Batter had never been afraid to lose his life if it was necessary - and it had been once his journey reached its end. He was never meant to exist in the long-term. Erasers are meant to be thrown out once they have ceased being useful. Beings like himself are much the same.

It doesn't diminish what the child is saying, however. But given their reaction to his statements prior to the fight, the Batter doesn't think they're saying this to simply save their own skin.]

You would let me continue my mission then.

[If one winds up the key on a toy, it will march. Chara has to know that the Batter won't stop attempting to 'end the dream' just because they cease fighting him here.]

No.

[They would not. And if that's the way he would like to take it, then they can continue their fight. They're hardly afraid to die- no here, not when they're awake.

Death is practically a pointless venture.]

Dreams end when they end. If you're so intent on breaking this space, I would suggest simply allowing it to run it's course. What we're seeing now is likely just a fraction of a second.

[If there was one redeeming quality about this child, it was that they got to the point quickly. The Elsens often stuttered and took too long to arrive at whatever they were trying to say and often the Guardians were either irritatingly vague or lost their point between the screaming and swearing.

And the Batter has a feeling that changing the child's mind will be pointless and death equally so. So he does not ask what they will do if it turns out to be untrue.]

Fine.

[Extremely easy, isn't it? But he's not about to relax or turn his back on them. They have proven to be dangerous so it would be foolish to do so. If Chara wants to be rid of his presence, they will have to leave him here.]

['Fine', he says, and the child stands there, watching him quietly. It drags on- from seconds, to minutes, until they finally make their move, wiping their knife across the front of their sweater.

It leaves dark streaks of blood, stark against the cheerful green- Chara's hardly bothered. They wait, for the LOVE in their throat to go back down, till they begin to feel the tremble in their fingers, slowly licking dry lips.

They wait until they're certain they do not wish to change their mind. Until their focus is back on finding what they need to, instead of- this. This delusion.

What does it mean, to hate this aspect of yourself more than you hate the version of you standing there, staring back?]

Then it is agreed.

[Slowly, they move. Two steps backwards, keeping their eyes trained on his face, before they turn. Keep their head high, keep listening.
They will not show fear to a creature like this.
They are not afraid to walk away from him.]

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TEST DRIVE MEME ( 001 )

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tw: referenced child abuse

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