TEST DRIVE MEME ( 005 )

[lifeaftr_mods]

Test Drive Meme #5

Hello, and welcome to LifeAftr! 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 November 17th and that Applications will open on November 24th!

Two important notes:

1. LifeAFtr's test drives take place on the island of Mu, which 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, largely in the form of test drive reward items.

All That Glitters
The caves deep beneath the island's surface are not dimly lit; in fact, they practically sparkle with a strange, unearthly greenish light. Blame it on the crystalline growths that protrude plentifully from every nook and cranny, stalactites and stalagmites alike.

Their glow might be soothing to some, and viscerally terrifying to others, but one thing remains absolutely certain: based on the creaking, groaning noises of shifting rock and the high-pitched tinkle of breaking shards of crystal...

You aren't alone down here. The deeper in you venture, the more the thicker clusters of the things begin to move. And eventually, it will become plain to you that it isn't the crystal at all that's moving, but rather the thing inside of it - something vaguely humanoid shaped, bipedal, with arms and legs and the dull, pale glimmers in the region of what might almost pass for a face.

Formed entirely from crystal.

Upon spotting a living creature, each of them will begin to lurch closer and closer, arms outstretched. Every one is slow and cumbersome and even fragile enough to be smashed, if you dare venture close enough. But once they've trapped you, there is no escaping whatever fate they have in store for you.

And rest assured, it is not a pleasant one.

[The above prompt is a version of our Crystal Clear event from October! Feel free to give the event write-up a read for more information.]

It's High Tide
When you initially wake on the beaches of this strange island with its bleeding, dreamlike edges, you might notice that something seems deeply amiss...something like the fact that you're lying in a whole mess of seawater. Assuming you're not thoroughly soaked already, you'd better figure out a way to get to high ground, because the water level is rising very rapidly. Pretty soon, there might not be anywhere safe to go besides the trees, and even those might not be safe the longer this goes on.

Fortunately for you, if you can find them quickly enough, the island of Mu has helpfully provided some assistance for those who don't feel like doggy-paddling for the duration of the dream. Better hurry and hang onto them before you drown! Unless you'd rather doggy-paddle the whole way out, that is. In which case, we're sure the water feels great.

A Crappy Endeavor
In your travels on this strange new land, you might start to notice something following you. Something...oddly shaped, like a lot of dirt and clay that's consolidated into one great awkward moving lump of a creature. What lies beneath is far more like the common beetle...just much, much larger. And unfortunately for everyone involved, they have a very specific appetite:

Your poop.

Mu has produced a very close approximation of the creatures known as f'rshaymes, animals that go beyond merely being useful for disposing of all that nasty waste. Doiing so comes with significant benefits, as the combined process of mud and excrement as it goes through a F'rshayme's digestive system leaves behind pure clay for the...brave.

Often found in small herds of six to eight individuals, f'rshaymes are extremely docile and would be very easy to turn into a herd of your very own. How nice!

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LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

High tide

[thermalwind]

If you’re done it’s time to go. Unless you like swimming.

[Keith is standing a little ways away, waiting while the water climbs up past his knees. He jerks his hood back and checks the distance between them and land. Clad in black armor designed for stealth he would blend in well with any shadow. As it stands in broad daylight he just stands out.]

Come on. Too much higher and the sharks will come this way.

[ungrieved]

[Does he like swimming? He has no idea, actually. He never got to have lessons. But he could now, couldn't he? If he wanted, he could. And that's extraordinary.]

[Still, not everyone is experiencing a euphoric rush over having sudden and inexplicable tangibility. Gabe grins, apparently far from concerned with the threat of drowning?]

You get sharks here, too?

[thermalwind]

[That’s not the usual reaction human beings have to oh by the way sharks. He raises an eyebrow and draws his knife, flipping it in his hand to ready for whatever tried to kill them.]

They do. One tried to bite me when I woke up. [So he stabbed it in the gills. After facing the perils of space, a shark is just another Sunday. He turns and starts moving towards the shore. He pauses, glancing back at him.]

Don’t know much else right now. Grab your pack and we’ll go. [He’ll drag him off if he has to. Keith frowns out at the sea. His armor had kept him from a nasty bite but that won’t save the stranger.] If you’re bleeding keep it covered or out of the water if you can.

[ungrieved]

[We have a badass over here. Cool disposition, dismissive use of a weapon, the offhand implication that he fights fucking sharks just because he can? Token don’t-give-a-damn behavior. Rather than be impressed, Gabe merely seems all the more elated. This is textbook right here. A brand new experience, and he’s getting to live it in real time!]

Me? Bleeding? [Does he look like he’s bleeding? He double checks just to be sure, but his newly solid body is sound and whole. Thank fuck.] I’m not bleeding. Why would I be bleeding? I just got here.

[And he has a pack? Oh my god. He has a pack. Something about the stitching across the front makes him pause yet again, and he loses some of his carefree wit.]

It has my name.

[thermalwind]

...I guess they all do. Or every one I've seen does. [He resheathes his knife and slides his own pack off his shoulder. 'Keith' stitched across the front of it but no last name.]

Anyway, I was just checking. Glad you're physically ok. [Keith isn't the best at reading people. But the shift in tone is enough to catch his attention.]

[ungrieved]

It has my name.

[He repeats it with an odd weight and inflection, like it's particularly important. It has his name - years without hearing it, years without hearing anyone so much as utter it in his vicinity, and this place...it just writes it out like it's nothing?]

[What could do that?]

It shouldn't.

[thermalwind]

[He abandons the pressing need to be elsewhere. This guy isn't going to move and he'd already signed on to protect him.]

...I don't think this place holds exceptions for anyone. [His brows come down. No matter how he tries to puzzle it out this reaction like the others doesn't make any sense.]

What's wrong with your name being on the bag?

[ungrieved]

Nothing.

[He snatches it up abruptly and slings it over his shoulder, facing away from Keith so he doesn't see it. That's a new and unfounded paranoia. He'd inspect it further, but he doesn't really have any cause to. Fuck that.]

Let's go. Though I guess "shark kibble" is a pretty interesting way to go out. [The grin and cocky, carefree air is back, as though it never dissipated. No harm and no foul.]

[thermalwind]

Interesting isn't the way I'd put it.

[The topic of names gets dropped. Whatever is bothering the guy he isn't about to ask. Keith leads the way, checking behind him as he adjusts his pack.]

Only thing I've seen so far is this place looks like its being flooded. If you see a really weird looking white float, grab it. Can't hurt to lug it along.

[ungrieved]

[He’s a not-dead, not-alive anomaly of a guy at the moment; “interesting” is definitely what he meant. He surveys the other guy briefly with eyebrows lifted, attempting to scrutinize and discern the age of Keith here. He’d guess something similar to Gabe’s own. Or, you know, Gabe’s apparent age of seventeen or so. Give or take the sixteen of those years he spent dead.]

Can you swim? [He snaps it out abruptly, like it’s a challenge.]

[thermalwind]

[He raises an eyebrow at the question.] Yeah? Look, if the water rises too high, not even the trees will be good to rest in. Can’t swim forever.

[This guy gets more and more confusing. Keith furrows his brows as he goes back over what he has learned so far. Not much.]

There’s caves but I heard they’re not safe. Better to head for high ground. [This is the most he’s said in quite some time. He rarely says much. That had been up to the rest of the team. Keith pauses to orient himself and moves west.] There wa as beach this way before. Should still be there.

[ungrieved]

[He can swim. Someone probably taught him. A mother. A father. A sibling who wouldn't mind humoring him. Someone probably made sure he could paddle and held him so he wouldn't drown and he got to live like that, happily, with a house that didn't burn down and a family that probably loved him.]

[Regardless of the accuracy of that train of thought, Gabe can't suppress the spike of vicious, incredible, indisputable envy - at this boy's life, at the life Gabe imagines he must have had, He knows how to swim. He got to learn.]

[He hisses in through his teeth before twisting his expression into a smirk. Rather incredibly, it straddles the line between friendly and deeply unpleasant.]

A beach counts as high ground now? That really is something.

[thermalwind]

Do you have a problem with me? [His eyes narrow as his temper sparks. It’s been a while since that was struck quite the same way as it used to be.]

The beach is step one. We take the next step from there because I haven’t scouted any further than that. [He has no idea what set this guy off but if he knew that train of thought. The spark would turn to a firestorm. He has always been alone until Shiro gave him even a shred of a chance.]

We’re losing time.

[ungrieved]

Why would you think that?

[Immediately, his eyebrows lift, his expression morphing into one of absolute innocence. Why would he have a problem with anyone, anyone at all, who can boast the right to a normal life free of the ghosting pain that wracked his wretched, formless existence long past his expiration date?]

[But, fine. Despite that smoldering resentment, he's not terribly eager to throw away the life he's been unexpectedly blessed with. Not now.]

Then let's take step one.

[thermalwind]

[Keith falls silent, but his guard is up. He picks his way along and points out dangerous spots to avoid without a word. When they reach the beach he unsheathes his blade. Purple light suffuses the metal and it transforms into a kukuri-styled sword. The blade gently curves to the point at the end. He puts both his arms through the straps of his pack and pulls his hood over his face.]

Check your pack for a weapon. We don’t know what’s out there.

[He moves towards the edge of the beach but moves slow enough that he doesn’t lose him.]

[ungrieved]

[A weapon. Why? So Gabe can shove it in Keith's back? That must be what he's expecting. That's what anyone with any rational sense would expect from him. He's a menace. He is.]

[He considers telling Keith no, go suck it, just to be petulant, but he'd probably feel better knowing he could shank the dude and run if he so chose. It's all about who can control who, and he'd really prefer to not be the only one of the two of them who doesn't have a means to killing the other. So he yanks the flap of his pack open and starts rooting around in the contents, eventually coming up with a brown, hairy fruit.]

[Gabe's keeping up well enough, but he's also heavily considering the merits of lobbing the coconut at Keith's head.]

Think this counts as a weapon?

[thermalwind]

If you're desperate. It serves better as a day of water and food. [He pulls his own pack off his shoulder, keeping his weapon free to swing if necessary. Salt, oats, knife, toothbrush. He draws the small blade and checks its edge.

Keith nods to himself and flips it, offering it hilt first. Good. If they have to go different ways then he will have at least armed him for his own safety.]

Here, take it. If we get separated you'll have a way to fend off any animals or whatever is here. I'll show you later how to get the coconut open without spilling the water.

[ungrieved]

[He's just...giving it to him?]

[He doesn't even know him. He could be wicked. He could be cruel. He might sink it into Keith's back just because he can. He might try to hilt the blade in the flesh of the only person trying to help him, because he's just that terrible. He could do any number of things. How could someone be so stupid?]

[Gabe, on the other hand, isn't stupid enough to deny that gift. He drops the coconut back into his pack at once and seizes the blade instantly, his attention fixed wholly on the blade and the way it catches the light, glinting in the dreamlike haze of sun.]

You know a lot about surviving on desert islands, huh?

[thermalwind]

[He takes a step back as his companion stares at the blade. Keith keeps his eyes on him, watching for any tell-tale signs of an attack. He hasn't forgotten the strange behavior before, but his conscience won't let him leave him defenseless.

The question is which does he operate as Voltron or? His blade returns to a knife and he silently revises his plans of defense.]

Required part of training. Had to be able to get intel back safely.

[ungrieved]

Intel.

[He snickers at that one. Sounds like a kid playing pretend with dart guns. He's gotta be, right? He can't be any older than Gabe himself appears to be. What kind of kid gets hired to some kind of special operation? Bullshit.]

That's priceless.

[thermalwind]

[He keeps watching him. More and more he's convinced there's something off. Keith shifts his knife, ready to strike as he offers the knife sheathe. If he's attacked there will be no doubt that he was taught to fight. The only people he has to prove anything to is himself and team Voltron.]

Keep the knife sheathed or you'll wear out the edge. Can't exactly resharpen it out here.

[ungrieved]

[Gabe accepts the sheath with a roll of his eyes, as if to say sure, no big deal, he GUESSES he'll do Keith the honor of taking this stupid thing into account if it means it'll humor him or whatever. But he sheathes the blade in acquiescence. What? He can listen, on occasion. At least it's not an adult ordering him around.]

What is it you think we'll be fighting, exactly? Sandpaper beasts?

now that thanksgiving prep and the holiday isn't eating me.

[thermalwind]

Do you remember how you got here? I don't. Someone brought us here. [He draws back and turns, heading away from the beach. Who or what brought them here has an agenda. They'd taken a half-human and a human. From two different places very far apart.]

They'll show themselves and what they want eventually. I'd rather be prepared if it goes wrong.

[ungrieved]

[Someone brought us here. He's gotta way with words, to be certain. A way with overly dramatic speeches that Gabe can't help but find obliquely amusing. He's always been an observer. It's possible that he's yet to believe that the world is truly capable of affecting him in any permanent manner.]

How do you know, huh? Maybe nothing brought us here.