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aftr_ooc2017-07-04 10:46 pm
lifeaftr_mods) wrote in aftr_ooc2017-07-04 10:46 pm
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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!
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!
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.
( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )
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[ Pyrrha makes an aborted move forward and stops herself. She is dead. Ruby confirmed it and Pyrrha has felt it. Could she really go to him right now? Like this? She wraps her arms around herself, trying to hold herself back. ]
— It's me.
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But he can't move. He doesn't even stare at her like he sees a ghost; whatever is going on is much crueler than that. It's almost as if he's testing her to see what she does next. If she disappears, he'll know he's finally lost it. It will be losing her all over again, but at least he'll know.
Say something. Anything. But he can't. Why can't he say anything?
Jaune tried not to give the afterlife much thought. He always figured he'd die pretty young; huntresses and huntsman weren't known for living to enjoy retirement. But he would have rather been remembered as a hero, than someone mediocre and helpless. Someone that needed to be protected. It's not an explanation he wants to think about, but if he's not crazy it makes the most sense.]
Am I dead? [He blurts out to no one.]
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[ Her voice quavers. The idea of Jaune being dead — Pyrrha blinks tears from her eyes before wiping her face hastily. She can't begin to imagine what's going through his head right now. How long it might have been. ]
N-No, I don't think so.
[ Ruby had said the others were fine and Pyrrha believes her. She keep her gaze on the ground. She's not ashamed but she can't — she's not ready. ]
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[He bites out between grit teeth, more harshly than he intended. Seeing her cry like this tears open wounds that haven't healed and never will. It hurts but it's also so real. Pyrrha rarely showed this side and he couldn't help her when she did. If it's his mind playing tricks on him, he must hate himself more than he thinks. But she's still far enough away to make him distrust himself. It's hard to think anything is real when your surroundings have blurred around you and you feel numb.]
Did I lose it? Because I'm not sure which one's worse.
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Gently, she touches Jaune's cheek. He's really here. ]
You didn't lose anything.
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Didn't lose anything? [His voice cracks as he parrots her words in disbelief. He's past any point where he might ask rational questions: Why was she here? Did she remember everything? He can feel a tremor as she touches him. Or is that him? He didn't think he could cry anymore, but tears fall from his eyes and he honestly doesn't care at this point.]
We all lost that night so don't-- Don't act like-- [Choking on his words, he crumples against her and just breaks down.]
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Do you believe in destiny?
She did. She still does. Carefully, her fingers brush the tears from his cheeks. ]
I'm glad you're all right.
[ Everyone else made it okay. She is sorry for their grief, their loss and all the moments in between. But that's as far as it goes. ]
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Destiny is an excuse to reign in good people to be used by others. If destiny was the reason why Pyrrha couldn't laugh with her teammates and why Ren sometimes talked more than Jaune now and Nora had become more reliable than ever and Ruby was so quiet and uncertain when she didn't think people were looking, then he was better off without it. Holding his breath, he doesn't move closer, but he doesn't try to stop her either.]
I'm not.
[He says it like it's a fact that's hard to admit.] We're not okay. [She's so pale.
He wants to reach to grab her hand, but he doesn't want to set her off. Or worse, watch her disappear again.]
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Pyrrha Nikos is a Huntress.
But she also loves this boy and that's what keeps her there, caught by his misery. Her hands haven't moved far away. ]
I know.
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As much as he pointed the blame to everyone else, there was only one person he despised equally, if not more, than Cinder. Not that the reasons really mattered when you had lost someone. They didn't bring Pyrrha back.
He doesn't know how she's back, and he doesn't want to ask. He's afraid doing anything to question her presence or point it out will only force her to disappear like the floating embers that danced their way. Everything good in his life had a habit of doing that lately and he doesn't think he can take it happening again.]
Can we sit?
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Of course.
[ She gently pulls him along to the driftwood, close to the fire. She resists the urge to fidget and if she still holds his hand . . . Pyrrha is sure someone will forgive her for this small comfort. ]