test drive meme #1.

[seeingyou]

Hello, passengers and potential passengers!! Welcome to the first-ever eyemind Test Drive Meme. Here you have a chance to play around in the game's setting before deciding to app, test out new characters, or just roll around and have some fun. Enjoy!

No invite is necessary to play in the test drive, but please remember that eyemind is a (semi)private game and you must request an invitation before submitting an application. Request an invitation here!

Please note: Threads from the test drive meme DO NOT count toward AC and ARE NOT considered game canon, but you are welcome to use them for your app samples.

SCENARIO ONE: LIGHT UP THE NIGHT



The ship has stopped on Arion, near the settlement of Taunican, at the height of harvest season, and since the planet is largely agricultural, that means there is a big harvest festival a-happening.

What's neat about this festival is that it's not just a celebration of the harvest - it's a celebration of the community, and of the planet as a whole. The dominant local religion (for lack of a better term) isn't exactly experienced in term of worship but of honoring the planet itself - the seasons, the landscapes, the crops. Natives talk of Arion as if it is a living, breathing entity, because for them? Arion is.

Every evening while the ship is docked, there is a bonfire in the fields outside the town square, starting at dusk. There's a giant potluck feast, with everyone in attendance encouraged to bring dishes to share, but no one will be turned away if they arrive empty-handed. Fiddles and flutes and drums provide the soundtrack for the folk songs about Arion the locals sing around the fire; dancing and games and laughter are everywhere. This is a peaceful, joyous celebration, and you're invited!

SCENARIO TWO: WE NEED TO GO DEEPER



You're asleep, but maybe you don't know that - in the middle of a dream, it's not always easy to tell the difference between reality and the scenes your subconscious creates. You find yourself somewhere that may or may not be familiar, doing something that may be mundane or fantastical, but you're not alone. This is a dream you're sharing with your shipmates. What secrets and truths will you learn about each other?

SCENARIO THREE: STOP HITTING YOURSELF



Ope, looks like Navi’s wandered a little too close to an interdimensional rift in space-time, and now things are getting a little weird. If you happen to have superpowers, you may find that you don’t have quite as good of a hold on them as you do normally, or maybe now there are unintended side effects that occur when your powers are used. Maybe your character usually possesses enhanced strength or speed, and now they suddenly find themselves too swol to handle ordinary objects without crushing them, or they may have uncontrollable zooms and be physically unable to slow their roll.

No superpowers? No problem! Non-powered characters may find themselves deprived of one or more of their natural senses, i.e., sight, hearing, smell, taste, etc. Have fun being suddenly and temporarily blind! Walk into walls, eat trash, be free.

Comments

[nerological]

You sound new here.

[The answer was light, almost glib. Was he okay? No. Definitely not, but he'd put his senses back together elsewhere. At the moment, this... strange company, discordant with his surroundings and with the memory built around this nightmare, did well enough to give him a temporary foundation to stand upon. An old, time-honored favorite: being an aloof ballbag.

Even if his armor was scorched and his body ached, he could temporarily set aside the negative for this. Almost eager to in fact, better than allowing his mind to settle into the dark and unwelcoming, unexplored depths of self reflection. Can't have that.]

I'd hate to get your hopes up, so in the interest of mercy I regret to inform you that it most certainly is not the end.

Quite far from it, the Empire is going to be very upset about losing the Praetorium, I imagine the retribution will be swift and twice as deadly.

[ancestor]

And you sound like a child.

[ They all do. The souls of children in adult bodies. A dichotomy she still cannot wrap her mind around.

She gets to her feet with a small hiss of discomfort. Adjusting her mask, she runs her fingertips across the cuts on her cheeks, healing them in one smooth movement. ]

Everyone keeps referring to 'the Empire'. What in star's name is this cursed monstrosity that would have children killing children?

[ The more she thinks on it the more infuriated she feels. The fires burning in the distance are naught but smouldering ash compared to the righteous fury blazing in her soul. She shakes with it.

Her people did not sacrifice themselves for this. ]

Whatever this Empire is, I will end it.

[nerological]

If I'd not heard that insult before, I can assure you madam, I would be deeply offended.

[He'd certainly never been called that by his commanding officers, no, nor any of his subordinates (to his face), but a mess such a Nero was not crafted in a day. He's heard that before.

As for her question, now comfortably settled into a familiar roll, he waved one hand, still inside it's scorched armor, back towards the burning Praetorium, even as he made a concentrated effort not to look towards it himself.]

You can take your disagreements with the Emperor's method up with His Radiance himself, should you so desire. I'm sure he'd absolutely love to hear suggestions.

[He snorted, moving to finally start peeling off that armor, starting with his gauntlets.]

I wish you the best of luck with that. You can go ask Ala Mhigo how well that effort turned out.

[ancestor]

It's hardly an insult. You can't be older than a half-century—barely more than a toddler.

[ Had it not been for the myriad other distractions and things on her mind, Hemera would have noted the state of his odd armour by now. As it is, she looks to the burning structure with increasing anger as the boy continues speaking.

She knows who 'His Radiance' refers to, and she is livid. ]

Hades is responsible for this?

[ She raises her arms in a quick, violent motion, and the ground beneath them shudders in response. Soon water begins to seep up from the sand, pooling slowly at first but soon gaining momentum until a veritable lake of water flows its way into the 'Praetorium'.

Once she's felt as though she's accomplished something she turns to the boy yet again. ]

And just where is 'his radiance' now?

[nerological]

[Well, that's a new one. He'd charge on ahead with his dismissive bullshittery but... well now there was something else to consider. His brows furrowed, the memories of that night starting to separate themselves a little better from this meeting. Perhaps it was the absolute ridiculousness of the sentence itself. Barely older than half a century?

His response came quickly though, thoughts darting through his head,]

Most barely live to one hundred, madam.

[See what answer she might have for that. As for everything else, it was lumped right on top of the first inconsistency. His gaze easily followed the water streaming towards the Praetorium, the image memorized and quietly set aside, turning over then the mention of 'Hades'... A completely alien name to him.]

Varis, actually...

[... Maybe he should send her his way. There was an idea, consider him somewhat intrigued.]

In Garlemald, of course. It will be quite the hike on foot, mind you.

[ancestor]

Preposterous.

[ It's easy enough to brush that ridiculous statement aside and focus on other, more pertinent information. ]

Varis? No. Where is Solus?

[nerological]

[Barely older than half a century, where is Solus-]

Hmmm... Before I answer that... if I may, and do forgive me madam, for the rude question- [Oh now he can be polite, nice] how old are you? Approximately, feel free to fudge the numbers a little.

[Because he's going to guess that it isn't going to be twenty nine.]

[ancestor]

...How is that rude? [ Don't think she hasn't noticed the sudden politeness, little boy. ] I've fourteen centuries.

Now where is 'Solus'? I have words for 'his radiance'.

[nerological]

[OOooh. Well then-]

Know him personally, I take it? That's a shame, he passed away, not terribly long ago. Eighty eight years old.

Apparently, practically a babe in his cradle.

[With his beard and his walking cane. A wizened little baby.]

[ancestor]

"Eighty eight"? [ She actually laughs at that. ] Is that what he's been saying?

He's older than me by a century, and certainly not dead...

...Though I cannot say how long that will last, unless he has a very good answer for what he's done.

[nerological]

Well it's going to be very difficult to get an audience with him, if you want answers. His crypt is exceptionally well guarded, and I hear he's not one for conversation much these days.

[Okay, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little skeptical. He might be erring towards being an asshole, just a little.]

But if you have your heart set on questioning him, by all means go hunt him down. I'd be delighted to see what words you may have for him.

[ancestor]

The only difficulty will be if he's hiding himself in the Lifestream. If the guards are children they will pose no threat.

[ She gives him a scrutinizing look. ]

...What words I have for him are not for little boys to hear.

[nerological]

As a member of a different species, [That he could at least easily assume] I must inform you that one hundred is considered impressive, for us, as far as age goes. At thirty four, I haven't been considered a child in over sixteen years now.

... And yes, a decade and a half is also considered, in our relative terms, to be 'quite a while', when you don't have that many decades to spare.

[ancestor]

You have the soul of a human, and are human in form. Ergo, you are human.

And practically an infant!

[nerological]

Garlean. [Came the stubborn correction. No, this was better than thinking about his lot in life right now. He'd have to get back to that later, eventually, he was sure. Not to make peace with it or anything, by the Emperor, no.

He needed to figure out how he was going to spin this in his best interest still.]

Unless something exceptionally miraculous happens within the next fifty to seventy years, I've lived approximately a little over one quarter of my natural life span. I'm as much of a child as you are, relatively speaking.

[ancestor]

Human. [ She rolls her eyes. ] The soul never lies, even if the body tries to.

[ And that has always been the way of it. Hyth and Hades could always see the soul more acutely than any other; colours and facets, unique identifiers. The Sight was always considered the greatest of the Gifts, but Hemera quite liked being able to Hear.

If she takes care to listen, a soul is always, always truthful. ]

I've only been a proper adult a handful of centuries now —though I'm sure there are those who grumble and claim I've the maturity of a child even now. [ She pauses, frowning, as though recalling an unpleasant thought. She shakes it off quickly enough. ]

A quarter of your body's lifespan or not, your soul is a child's soul. Just a small wisp of a thing; faint and soft and cute, like all children's souls tend to be at the start.

[nerological]

Well the age of my soul has no bearing on how long my body is going to last, so you'll forgive me if I don't put much stock in my spiritual youth. [Not unless he can find a way to make it important, of course. He'll make a note of that, wouldn't it be great to be the man who discovered how to be forever young? And rub it in Cid's face.]

... How in the seven hells can a soul be cute?

[ancestor]

The soul has always been a determinate factor of lifespan, so far as I've been aware.

[ The look Hemera gives him is the one of an adult who has heard a child ask something exceptionally silly but is too kind to point out the obvious.]

The same way anything else can be cute.

[nerological]

Well that would just make you incorrect, unless you're going to stand here and tell me you're just one very solid soul with no deteriorating flesh and bone to speak of.

[Don't you look at him like that-]

Lets pretend I haven't seen a soul before, and I'm going to describe what I think makes something 'cute'. [Because... because yeah he... he actually does find things cute but shut up]

I imagine the very definition of 'cute' to be a coeurl kitten, large eyes, over-sized paws, a distinct lack of anything suggesting immediate offensive prowess... An infant, more or less.

What features lends the descriptor 'cute' to what I can only assume to be a shapeless mass of energy?

[ancestor]

You'd need to ask 'His Radiance' as I don't have the Sight. [ She rolls her eyes as she says her friend's 'title'. ]

But imagine the tiny mewl of a tiny kitten with large eyes and paws too big for its body. A chirpy little squeak of a miaow. [ She is very clearly imagining it and is also very clearly enamoured with the thought of a coeurl kitten. ] The feeling that adorable little noise evokes is what the melody of your soul is akin to: cute.