lumon | TEST DRIVE / JAN '25 / BETA.

Test drive.

Welcome to AFTER LIFE, a game based in the world of Severance! This test drive serves as a place to help you figure out what characters you'd like to bring into the game. Some details (housing, etc.) may require further out of character conversation; please refer to the OOC meet and greet!

These prompts are all relatively low-stakes as a reflection of the nature of the game: slice-of-life until character and player interaction bring out the more psychological horror/thriller aspects of the setting. If none tickle your fancy, feel free to provide wildcard prompts of your own.

The test drive is open to anyone. We encourage messing around here to figure out exactly how you'd like to port your character into Kier! Threads may also be considered game canon if you so wish.

Got any questions? Check the FAQ or ask in the comments.

outies: deals all the way down.

There's a sale on at Lindt's Groceries! Discounts on pretty much anything you could imagine! The store is a middle-sized, relatively bougie, locally-owned grocery, with aisles stocked full of food and general necessities, as well as a small counter for deli meats and fish, and another two across the shop stocked with hot food (rotisserie chicken, sandwiches, sides) and a very limited selection of sushi (some sashimi, some hand rolls). And right now, there's a 20% discount on anything in the shop (supposedly to celebrate someone's birthday, though whose, you have no idea).

Are you browsing the aisles? Are you working a shift? Are you checking out?

outies: rain, rain, go away.

It's a grey and cloudy day, and as the cherry on top of the gloomy day cake, it's started to rain. The closest place to get out of the downpour is We Love Books, the local bookstore. Like Lindt's, it's not huge — it's not so big as a Barnes & Noble — but it's big enough, and obviously well-maintained.

Maybe there's a book you've been meaning to pick up? Or maybe you're really just waiting out the rain. Or you could stop at Leaves of Grass, the cafe next door, and get a coffee, tea, or hot chocolate to help warm up the cold day. Or maybe the rain doesn't bother you at all, and you're totally willing to keep on trucking. Are you brave enough to ask someone for a spare umbrella?

outies: neighborly fun.

You've been invited to a night of board games and conversation by a neighbor — or maybe just a friend of a friend. Either way, you're in a stranger's (nice, midcentury) house with a bunch of people you've never met before. There's wine, there's charcuterie, there's seltzer — bits and bobs for consumption until the games begin in earnest. (You've heard that some people at the party might be Severed — are you?)

Why not say hi to the person standing next to you? Or remain a wallflower and see if a more enterprising guest will decide to bestow you with a conversation starter.

innies: another day in paradise.

The elevator doors open, and another normal day at work begins. You know the way to your office, and don't see anyone else on the way there. What's your routine to get settled when a day starts? Do you like your coworkers? Do you like the work you do? Have you been doing it for a million years, or is this your first day? Maybe you're a manager making sure everything is running smoothly?

innies: waiting for wellness.

For one reason or another, you've been given the opportunity to visit the Wellness Center for a session. Except someone seems to have made a scheduling mistake — as you sit in the waiting room, you hear footsteps coming from the hallway. You've never run into anyone from another department before; in fact, the idea of fraternization has been expressly discouraged. Maybe they're coming into the Wellness Center's waiting room, too, or maybe they're just passing by. Either way, this might be your only chance to see who else works on the Severed floor — or maybe it's just one of your usual coworkers.

Will you get up, or let them go by?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

outies: rain, rain, go away.

Joan's always been very lucky, you see.

Lucky enough to live in Kier; lucky enough to have a husband, and a beautiful house, and time to have a hot bath every Friday without having to cook dinner. It's not that anybody expects it, of course, but there is some part of her that relishes in the opportunity. It's just one of those funny things. Growing up, you know, with and without Judith Butler. The cursed performance of gender. You buy into what you buy into.

And, honestly, why should she? A home's more than a house. The job at the bank keeps her plenty busy.

Today, the rain rolls in. Jeans, boots, a light cashmere sweater — thank God she was inside before it started pelting down, or the thing would've been absolute toast. One eye on the rain pelting the windows, her arms full of books (heavy ones; thick, glossy, with photographs aplenty), by fate or providence:—

—she bumps into someone.

She laughs, a twinkling chime, with one hand lightly covering her mouth. A perfect nude lipstick contours the bow of it.

outies: deals all the way down.

Grocery shopping. Is there any bigger chore?

She's thoughtful as she makes her way down the aisle. A basket hanging from the crook of her arm, one hand scrolling lightly through the notes on her phone: more of the milk, less of that brand of potato chips, they both liked that fish last week, maybe they'll try that pistachio creamer?

The man at the deli hands her her parcel, brown paper and butcher's twine, and Joan blinks at the little sticker indicating the price on it.

Well. Who doesn't love a good deal? (The blue is a little garish, though. She does have some strong opinions on colors.)

Down the next aisle, near the cereals, someone's just in the way of the cornflakes. And it's not that she's particularly nosy, except that she is, and there's a cake in your basket. There's a companionable look as she peers sidelong:

you're

Not that there is a secret Lindt heir. But there's more than one way to make a boring task pass by.

wildcard.
[ hey is JOAN from MAD MEN your WIFE? open to such nonsense if you are! once again, i am reachable at

virginiawoolf, and you can wildcard me just about anything and i'll roll with the punches! ]

[ He's not absentminded, not really, but sometimes he just— forgets. Like some wire's been crossed, like some synapse hasn't fired. Today, he forgets it's supposed to rain. He forgets his umbrella, forgets to leave his leather jacket at home. The bookstore is a point of rescue more than anything else, and he's in the middle of stuffing his eyepatch into his pocket (it's wet, but not unsalvageably so) when he bumps into Joan, both of them moving slowly enough that the collision would be negligible if not for common etiquette.

She's a kind of perfect that makes him itch. Her laugh, her make-up, her demeanor — all of it a sharp contrast to the near-permanent pinch in his brow and the mismatched eyes (one blue, one glassy despite retained vision) that stare back at her.

At the very least, he knows how to be polite. ]

It was my fault, [ he offers, as he takes a step back. ]

She didn't teach me either. [ A beat. Then, clarifying, ] To cook, or to mind my manners.

[ Her smile stays; grows brighter, even, and her gaze remains perfectly level. That's the thing about working at the bank. People come to you upset or hurt or desperate or smug anywhere in between. Anybody who works in something customer-facing knows exactly how to talk to people. It's honestly just a given.

And it's not like Kier's such a huge, sprawling town, is it?

Joan echoes his half a step. Reintroducing the distance, a tit for tat from her end, while she gently rearranges the books in her arms for a much more solid hold. No harm done. No big loss. ]

Well, between you and me, her beef bourguignon is a steal.

[ With another laugh. A beat grows, and it's one shared between two relative strangers — the kind that could just as well be left alone, with one or both of them walking away from the moment. Just another funny little story, in their funny little town. And Joan does think to, of course. But— ]

I saw you last week, didn't I? [ She straightens, a little, and steps to the left, so as to make room for anyone who's looking to move past them and into the aisle of Non-Fiction. ] At that party at Marjorie's?

TEST DRIVE / JAN '25 / BETA.

joan holloway | mad men

rain.

no subject