The Powers That Be (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
powersthatbe) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
synodiporia_ooc2014-03-29 03:05 pm
powersthatbe) wrote in synodiporia_ooc2014-03-29 03:05 pm
Entry tags:
Test Drive #2
Welcome to the Synodiporia Test Drive Meme! Below the cut there are twofour new prompts, here and here are the prompts from previous testdrives, which you’re still welcome to use here. When you comment, be sure you specify what prompt you want to play with, and please put up your own threadstarter - it makes for a much more friendly environment that a forest of bare toplevels!
Prompt #9 gives a look at what it's like for everyone to be stuck in Liminal Space, & Prompt #10 is a chance to try your hand at being an infiltrator in our upcoming Noir plot.
Before you start, we’d like you to please take a quick look at the game’s Concept, its Rules, and the Liminal Space, Previous Universes, & Noir Plot pages, just to give you the background info you’ll need for some of these prompts. And if you’re looking for more information, the Directory is here and the Application page is here.
Prompts:
Prompt #9: Liminal Space
Today, if it's a day, Liminal Space has shifted again. It's twilight, and a moldering New Orleans graveyard, full of ornate gothic sepulchers, stretches in every direction, gray stone and wrought iron barriers sectioning it into smaller plots. Some of these mausoleums have been opened, and their insides don't match their outsides. Inside are well-appointed train compartments, dinner cars and sleeper cars and such, richly appointed and well lit, as if they come straight from the Orient Express. Out the windows, you can see the landspace whizzing by, although it's not the same landscape from one window to the next. You can feel the vibration of the train, the acceleration - but step out of the car and you're in a graveyard again, and inside the cars you can hear crickets and nightbirds singing and smell the rich aroma of flowering trees.
Also in the graveyard are a few scattered train-cars, but nobody's going into those - inside they're all dank spaces packed with decomposing bodies. There are small animals here and there outside - rabbits, birds, that kind of thing -- all of them dead, but none of them letting it keep them from their nightly routines. The crickets and nightjars are making train noises. Bemused travelers are finding comfortable spaces wherever they can.
Prompt #10: The Midnight Rose
It's half past nine and the joint is jumping. The shutters on the front window are down, the front door is locked, but there's a big mook with a shrewd look in his eye letting anybody with a black enameled rose pin on their lapel in through the delivery entrance, and the back room they're shown into doesn't look anything like a candy store. There's a small, dark bar in one corner, and in another corner six guys with strings and brass are making like they're the Duke Ellington orchestra. The floors are tiled parquet and a few couples are dancing, but most of the action's at the smoke-shrouded card tables where a dozen little private meetings are happening, gents and dames in pinstripes and fancy hats or beaded dresses and heels, but rarely both. There are card games and conversations going on, and who can say what's more high stakes? Tonight, this is the place to be, Bensonhurst outfit or Gravesend mob or anybody else who can pay the cover charge.
Prompt #9 gives a look at what it's like for everyone to be stuck in Liminal Space, & Prompt #10 is a chance to try your hand at being an infiltrator in our upcoming Noir plot.
Before you start, we’d like you to please take a quick look at the game’s Concept, its Rules, and the Liminal Space, Previous Universes, & Noir Plot pages, just to give you the background info you’ll need for some of these prompts. And if you’re looking for more information, the Directory is here and the Application page is here.
Prompts:
Prompt #9: Liminal Space
Today, if it's a day, Liminal Space has shifted again. It's twilight, and a moldering New Orleans graveyard, full of ornate gothic sepulchers, stretches in every direction, gray stone and wrought iron barriers sectioning it into smaller plots. Some of these mausoleums have been opened, and their insides don't match their outsides. Inside are well-appointed train compartments, dinner cars and sleeper cars and such, richly appointed and well lit, as if they come straight from the Orient Express. Out the windows, you can see the landspace whizzing by, although it's not the same landscape from one window to the next. You can feel the vibration of the train, the acceleration - but step out of the car and you're in a graveyard again, and inside the cars you can hear crickets and nightbirds singing and smell the rich aroma of flowering trees.
Also in the graveyard are a few scattered train-cars, but nobody's going into those - inside they're all dank spaces packed with decomposing bodies. There are small animals here and there outside - rabbits, birds, that kind of thing -- all of them dead, but none of them letting it keep them from their nightly routines. The crickets and nightjars are making train noises. Bemused travelers are finding comfortable spaces wherever they can.
Prompt #10: The Midnight Rose
It's half past nine and the joint is jumping. The shutters on the front window are down, the front door is locked, but there's a big mook with a shrewd look in his eye letting anybody with a black enameled rose pin on their lapel in through the delivery entrance, and the back room they're shown into doesn't look anything like a candy store. There's a small, dark bar in one corner, and in another corner six guys with strings and brass are making like they're the Duke Ellington orchestra. The floors are tiled parquet and a few couples are dancing, but most of the action's at the smoke-shrouded card tables where a dozen little private meetings are happening, gents and dames in pinstripes and fancy hats or beaded dresses and heels, but rarely both. There are card games and conversations going on, and who can say what's more high stakes? Tonight, this is the place to be, Bensonhurst outfit or Gravesend mob or anybody else who can pay the cover charge.
Prompt #9 & #10
"I don't like the feel of this place."
"I'm not sure many would."
Nagi can't help but share the opinions of the little Pixie fluttering by her side. In a land of gray stones and dark wrought iron, the Pixie herself is a small bit of brightness and color next to her green-clad comrade.
It may be twilight but frankly she feels like she's been wandering for hours. Stumbling into the mausoleums doesn't help the sensation, the jarring effect of going from a static outside to the rush of a train car almost dizzying.
It's the first dead body the young summoner manages to stumble over that makes her first shout and then clap her hands quickly over her mouth to silence her own noise.
#10
If you don't count the place being a touch seedy, it's really almost like being back home for Nagi. ... Well, in a sense anyhow. It's the right time period but not the right setting, not for a country bumpkin like her.
"Oh oh, look at her hat, Nagi! Look, look!" The Pixie darts around the room, flittering around the woman in question as Nagi herself tries not to feel awkward. And more importantly tries not to react to her Pixie.
... Maybe she should have sealed her up for once.
#9
Still, in only a few seconds, he's zeroed in on the source, skidding to a halt near the dark-haired young woman in a flash of red and black.
"What is it?!"
no subject
"What do you mean 'what is it'. Look!"
And here she points in an almost accusatory fashion at the dead body nearby. The young woman herself meanwhile blinks over, eyes round and hands still clapped over her mouth. Then her brows raise as something seems to occur to her.
"The insides of the train cars and the graves are mixed up..."
no subject
"... Liminal Space is like that. Unsettling. And unsettled. Maybe it's a metaphor for something."
His eyes flick across Pixie briefly before turning more curiously to Nagi.
"... Are you a Persona-user?"
no subject
"... You can see her?"
The question comes out carefully, as if the teenager isn't sure she ought to mention it. Some of her shock is now quelled by the curiosity that rises. He doesn't precisely feel like a summoner but then nothing quite feels right here either.
She shakes her head carefully, "I'm am not acquainted with the idea of Persona."
no subject
"Pixie, right?" He glances back at Nagi. "So... she's not a Persona, and she's usually invisible. I can think of at least two reasons I might be an exception to the rule, but it's... a long story."