aftr_ooc | 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 )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[She doesn't really feel like arguing this one, especially given that they've been having a decent time up until now, so she just lets it go with a gentle:]

I do appreciate the thought, all practicalities aside.

You might want to take more of the already prepared foods, like dried fruit and jerky, and I can stick to the raw ingredients- I can use magic to turn just about anything edible into food relatively easily, one way or another, but human cooking needs a lot of things you're not likely to find on a deserted island, so it'd make sense for you to keep mostly things that don't need to be cooked.

[Crap, that's kinda like the tone his mother used to take with him when he was on the verge of a tantrum. It makes him feel guilty, especially since that was Ichimatsu's version of holding back. At least she changes the subject pretty quick -- he probably would've embarrassed himself a lot worse otherwise.]

[He eyes their supplies carefully, considering her words. That's... pretty generous of her. Ichimatsu is usually the kind of guy who's happy to take advantage of others, but she's been so nice to him that it would feel totally wrong in this instance. Yeah, he'll play fair.]

If you're sure it's fine...

[Slowly, as if he thinks she'll change her mind, Ichimatsu selects a few more bundles of jerky and two smaller jars of fruits. In retrospect, he can only really take what he can fit in his pockets, so it's not like he has much of a reason to be overly greedy anyway.]

Really, what I'm happiest about is the flour.

[She gives the lid of the jar a little satisfied pat.]

I could have managed something without it, but having it is going to make baking things so much easier. And...

[Her tone here turns a bit rueful.]

I have a feeling that things on this island are going to wind up being difficult in strange and unexpected ways, so I'm happy to take at least one thing going easily.

[Yeah, only a real chef would be that happy with a dumb jar of flour. Good for her, though... it's nice to see that there are some people around here with useful skills. Especially if, as she seems to be implying, they're going to be stranded on this island for a long haul.]

[Ichimatsu doesn't really want to think about that. He grunts noncommittally, rearranging his cut of the supplies around in his pockets until they stop bulging like a lumpy mess. Getting to his feet, Ichimatsu glances down the beachline with a soft, contemplative noise that might be agreement.]

Yeah. Good luck never lasts. You can count on that.

[... still, meeting her was pretty lucky, he supposes. He got a knife and some food out of it. And she seems like a reliable person to know. Ichimatsu turns on his heel with a slight wave.]

Anyway, I'm done here, so I'm gonna leave. See you around.

Ah, and thanks.

[Well, if nothing else, things are clearly going to be very interesting.]

Good luck to you too, dearie.

TEST DRIVE MEME ( 001 )

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no subject

I think we might be coming up on wrapping?

agreed <3

Wrapped.