Test Drive #13.

[powersthatbe]

Welcome to the Synodiporia Test Drive Meme! Below the cuts there are two new prompts, and here are the prompts from previous test-drives, which you’re still welcome to use in this post. 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! OCs are especially welcome! Please take a quick look at our Directory & familiarize yourself with the concept and setting of the game before you jump in.

Our upcoming app round runs December 18th-31st. Our next Jaunt, Escape from Junkworld, is a space opera romp where humans, aliens, and androids work together on mysterious scavenged, malfunctioning ships to outrun an interstellar disaster. Our next Walkabout (a more casual alternative event, for those not interested in the Jaunt) will revisit Heartbreak Academy, a shoujo anime setting where high-schoolers use Social Technology to bring shoujo special effects to life, from glitter to roses, transformation sequences to sad rainclouds, these cartoony powers are at the height of education for those who want a career in media or diplomacy, or some other means of big-stage self-expression. Both Jaunt & Walkabout will begin January 7th & run for approximately six weeks.

Prompt #37 is set in the Escape from Junkworld jaunt, as an advance taste of the fun available there.

Prompt #38 is set in a created landscape within the Telepathic Network all Travelers can access, and features characters facing their inner demons and traumatic memories together.


Prompt #37

The Coronation's coolant system has sprung a leak somewhere in its kilometers of pressurized tubing - near enough to the diagnostic centers to short out the readouts, meaning half the crew is up to their elbows in the decking, ceramic floor plates scattered along the corridors like loose shingles, making traveling between workstations like a game of holy grail hopscotch between the tiles and the potholes they left.

Besides that, the leak leaves the entirety of the ship smelling like a cross between pond scum and burned espresso, and set the radiation alarms to a distracting buzz - not enough for klaxons, just a constant, low-level warning that set the teeth on edge.

In the ship’s simulator chambers, anyone visored and gloved to work in virtual space can ignore it - but the computer environment may experience glitches in its programs, whether functional or recreational. On the bridge, other systems are experiencing occasional failures - from sensor shadows hinting at unreal pursuit and activating automated combat routines, to the translators in the comm system shorting out and creating a momentary babel.

Meanwhile, between evacuating irradiated areas, crawling through the conduits looking for the problem to fix, or quietly shooing smuggler-snails full of contraband out of the way of the search parties, there’s something for everyone to be doing...


Prompt #38


Sometimes someone’s issues lead to them being swallowed by a dungeon in Liminal Space and forced to confront their darker side, their repressed issues - but you can’t always wait for an arbitrary interdimensional force to kidnap you. Here in the Mind Palace, the world is simply a vast, blank white space, and glittering glass cubes float in the air, each holding within it a freeze-framed memory of a traumatic moment, something you’ve chosen to face here together with your companions. Maybe only one of you is going through this gauntlet, or maybe you’ve opted to face your fears together, but whatever this captive image is, you’ll have to explain it or let it play out, and come to grips with what it means to you - whether a happy memory you’ve lost, something that makes you sad or afraid or angry, or even a piece of your past that had been buried or forgotten until now - there it is, in front of you, waiting.

What happens next?

Comments

Asaraanda Adaar | Dragon Age: Inquisition

[galvanizer]

#38

The Qunari mage is no stranger to the Mind Palace... but that doesn't mean she's happy to be here or to see her memories laid out and contained in each of those floating cubes.

Staff heavy against her back, she slowly walks up to one of her memories, fingers brushing over the glass but not 'loading' it yet, she brushes back heavy braid from her shoulder and asks her companion(s), "Are you sure you want to go through this? They aren't... pretty."

[willyousee]

"I would rather assist you than remain behind, my lady," Alcuin says, remaining a respectful half step behind her. "You shall not have to face this alone, whatever it may be."

[galvanizer]

She can't help but pull a face at the title, sighing in a long-suffering way to bring some light to the situation.

"You make me sound like some powdered noblewoman when you call me that," she comments in a deadpan voice, fingers dancing along the memory cube and making it twirl mid-air.

[willyousee]

He hides a smile, giving her an innocent look. "I could omit it should you like. But then what should I call you?"

[galvanizer]

"Anything but 'oxman'. Or 'buckles'," she answers with a roll of the eyes, though there's a smile playing over her lips. "Or, I don't know, you could try using my name, strange as the thought might seem. I'll even settle for 'Adaar' if mine's too long for you."

[willyousee]

"Forgive me, I simply wished to give no offense." He bows gracefully, contrite but unafraid. "I fear I am unfamiliar with your customs... Asaraanda, correct?"

[galvanizer]

"More or less. You can even just point and say 'you' if that's easier."

She's not even joking on that part.

Returning her fiery eyes to the cube, she mutters, "Let's get started," and activates it, gritting her teeth when it lets out a burst of light to envelop them in the memory it contains.

When the light fades, they're standing at the rocky shoreline of the Free Marches on a cloudy afternoon. The seagulls are flying overhead and the weather is almost stifling in its heat. On seeing the two horned figures under the shade of trees a short distance away, Asaraanda's face darkens and she crosses her arms.

The larger of the two is a full-grown male Qunari, heavily scarred around his lips and eyes, the bindings of a Saarebas long gone but still leaving their mark all over his powerful body. The smaller is Asa herself, barely a teen yet easily taller than Alcuin is presently, hot, sweaty and scowling up at her teacher.

"Concentrate," the man rumbles, while his disheveled pupil grunts and holds up her hands, face screwing up as she tries to do as he orders. In the distance, there's the rumble of an approaching storm, and violet-tinted light dances along her fingers almost in answer... before going out in a pathetic 'bzzt'.

"It's too hot," she complains, shaking her hands to rid them of the lingering static and swiping one over her face to wipe away the sweat. "Can't we-"

"No, you must concentrate and do it now."

The adult Asa shifts on her feet and she glances at Alcuin. "Look away, Alcuin. You don't want to see this."

[willyousee]

Alcuin watches with a calm, keen interest, though initially startled by the sheer size of the male - not to mention all the marks of old wounds. He almost wishes they had entered earlier, that he might observe the full lesson and perhaps learn to imitate it on his own.

He looks up *always up) at her, puzzled, and politely turns halfway, knowing his peripheral vision ought to pick it up regardless. "If you are certain... We cannot be truly injured in a memory, you understand."

[higherthaneverybody]

The big man just chuckles darkly, shaking his head. "If it was pretty, I wouldn't be coming. Go on then."

[galvanizer]

"I don't see why you're so interested in the first place," she mutters, shaking her head and dropping her hand from the cube. "Other than your fascination with my horns, to start with."

[higherthaneverybody]

"They're marvelous horns," Rhys tells her with a lifted eyebrow. "And I've my own reasons - nothing harmful to you, so don't worry."

[galvanizer]

"Why thank you, they just grew this way," she answers with a snort, flicking a braid over her shoulder. "I don't think we will be in any actual danger... But just in case, are you able to defend yourself against fire or lightning?"

[higherthaneverybody]

"Either, quite ably," Rhys assures her, running his fingers briefly over a set of runes inscribed along the purple brocade edging on his robe, the gesture somehow both smug and subtly obscene. "Let's get on with it, shall we? Best to stop stalling."

[galvanizer]

Taking a bracing breath, she refocuses on the memory cube, activating it and letting them be engulfed in the light it shoots out. Asa's hand darts up to guard her eyes, while the other reaches back for her staff in case of danger.

As the light fades and leaves the Qunari blinking rapidly in the aftermath, she glances around to see where in her past they're stuck.

Waves crash against rocks, the wind whistling in their ears as they watch a small caravan moving along the barely used path. It is led by a man taller than Asaraanda, horns curling up in the same shape as hers. The draught horse he is guiding is hitched to a small wagon, a female Qunari on the other side, her silvery white hair pulled back in a neat bun, while a child - clearly Asa - dozes in the wagon amongst their few possessions. Behind them are more wagons and carts, half a dozen Qunari accompanying them, children and adults alike.

[higherthaneverybody]

"Weren't you a lovely little thing?" Rhys asks sardonically, taking in the scene. "Forced from your home, were you?"

[pseudologist]

Varric eyes the cube, head tipped back so he can clearly see the image - eye level for a qunari is, after all, rather above his own eye level. He runs a thumb idly over Bianca's stock, tracing the old, familiar wear patterns left by long years of not pretty.

"Inquisitor, if what's in there manages to be uglier than the shit we saw at Adamant, I'll owe you a whole year of rounds at the Herald's Rest."

[galvanizer]

"And we wouldn't want that to happen. You might need to actually deal with the Merchant's Guild to get your money back," she snorts, glancing back at him with a smirk.

"... I also doubt anything will be uglier than Adamant anyway."

[pseudologist]

"It would be a tragedy," Varric agrees, the corners of his mouth turned down in feigned horror at the thought. Mostly feigned, at least.

He glances back towards the cube, and lifts one hand to bid her onward with a showman's flourish. "Lead on, Your Inquisitorialness."

[galvanizer]

Smiling still, she looks back at the cube and takes a breath before activating it, shielding her eyes as blinding white light bursts out from it to transform their surroundings to the trapped memory.

As the light fades, freezing cold starts in, biting at their exposed skin while wind whips at their hair and clothes. It's the dead of night, and the scent of smoke is faintly mixed in with the fresh chill of snow. Before them is a bleeding and bruised Asaraanda, limping through the snow with her staff as a walking stick. She moves stubbornly even though the only noise is the shrieking wind and her own quiet chattering teeth.

The present Asa cocks her head and watches herself come upon an abandoned fireplace, the way she slumps on discovering it's stone cold and whoever lit it long gone.

"I never asked how the escape from Haven was for all of you."

[pseudologist]

Though his body's no more than a psychic construct here, just as the cold itself is, Varric shivers and hunches his shoulders against the wind that tugs at his collar. His expression tightens a little as he watches the memory-Asa limping towards the long-dead fire; though he knows already how this particular excursion ended, it's all too easy to recall the concern that turned slowly towards despair as the hours of the storm raged on with no sign of her.

"Curly and the Seeker kept everyone moving," he replies. "We lost a few people to the storms, but they kept the red templar stragglers off our backs. I might have to change that part in the book - flight through a winter storm in the Frostbacks might be harrowing, but it's not an exciting read."

[galvanizer]

"Oh, I don't know," she answers, keeping her voice dry despite feeling that barely forgotten fear of being lost forever in the storm she'd experienced- that her memory self is experiencing before them. "It gives the readers a chance to breathe between my death-defying acts, right?"

The past Asa now steels herself visibly and resumes her slow trek through the storm, hand up to shield her eyes from the snow.

"... I'm sorry," she adds quietly, moving herself now to keep pace with her past self. "If only I'd pushed harder to find out who the 'Elder One' was instead of brushing it off..."

[getalilweird]

Star peers around the Qunari- it's tempting for her to just dart between the other's legs to get a look, but she opts for a slightly less bubbly approach right now. She can tell Asa's a little troubled- troubled people normally like quiet, after all.

She gives a little fist pump though, beaming up at her. "That's what friends are for, right?" That is probably not normally what friends are for- trudging, literally, through your past memories. But given the life of a traveler, it's become half normal.

[galvanizer]

Unable to not smile back at the girl, Asa just shakes her head. "Apparently, but I don't think that's normal in most places. Is it really a good idea for a princess to be going into potential danger so willingly?"

[getalilweird]

As a response to that, said princess lifts herself onto one leg, giving a ballerina-esque twirl, wand wielded and sparkles flowing. ... Then she stumbles a little as she stops, dizzy from her own twirl. That won't stop her, though, and she plants her hands on her hips.

"That's exactly where princesses go!"

[galvanizer]

She automatically reaches out to catch the ever so graceful princess by the arm and chuckles. "Since I don't know too many princesses or their ways, I'll take your word for it."