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

[volving]

Cass notices the way he moves. She can't pinpoint exactly why, of course, but it's not any of her business, really. Instead of saying anything, she falls back to walk close to him, so she can provide support or balance if he needs it.

"I have... been here for... a while," she says. Not here-here, but that's more explanation than she thinks she'd be able to do usefully for him at the moment. Maybe she's wrong, but unless he starts asking specific questions, she'll just make sure Steph or Tim or someone talks to him.

She looks up at him with a sort of bemused smile when he apologizes - it always strikes her as odd how focused people are on knowing each other's names. "Cassandra," she answers.

[aimedhigh]

"Like the oracle of Troy," he replies, slightly bemused. "If you are to be my oracle in this place, madam, rest assured I will heed your warnings." After a moment, he shrugs, hiding a slight wince that comes with it. "Alexander is my first name, though it's not quite the same period as The Iliad."

"It hardly matters in any case," he adds, quite aware he's more than likely rambling at this poor young woman who's only trying to help. "How long have you been here, then? I've never seen anything that comes near to this place."

[volving]

She doesn't know the oracle of Troy. In fact, she's a bit startled that it's a word that applies to people other than Barbara, honestly, though in retrospect, that makes a lot of sense. Oracle, or- or-... maybe like order? Giving orders or keeping order, though? Maybe both? Someone who keeps information organized and then passes it on and gives orders to other people? It would make sense with what Barbara does, and for the idea of him heeding her warnings...

Well, that's neither here nor there, she shakes herself out of her brief diversion into figuring out the meaning of a word.

"Here for not... long. But it's not... always here?" She scrunches her face up a little as she steps into him slightly to let one of the crew hustle past her. "Six months... away from... home?"

She pauses, then asks, "What is an... Iliad?"

[aimedhigh]

Well, sort of, in the passing along sense of things. Perhaps Barbara may be divinely inspired as well; but clearly Alex can't consider that point. He gives her a slightly befuddled look at her words, half-hoping he doesn't look quite as confused as he feels. Sure, no one knows him here, but impressions are important.

"Not always here? What do you mean by that?" Perhaps the ship makes land, or whatever a strange metal ship may do. It's nothing like the sort of ships he's accustomed to, all wood and sails and tar. With a sharp pang, he realizes that's something he'll likely not see again, if he's meant to stay here, wherever that might be. It's a sobering thought, and his voice is a little less enthusiastic upon his reply. "The Iliad is an epic poem, written long ago by a man named Homer. It's about a war concerning various Greek cities." A pause. "Cassandra is the oracle of one of the cities involved."

[volving]

"I'm bad... at explaining," she says, and while she tries not to show too much how frustrating that is to her, there's a slight dip to her shoulders and furrow to her brow, if he happens to catch it. "I'm... not good at... speaking?" But she purses her lips for a moment to try to figure out how to word it in a way that might make sense.

"We... get sent other... places. Like we came... from home. All different, different... worlds." He might not buy it but it's true, and she knows he's one of them, so it can't hurt to try to explain.

She'll break out magic or the psychic network to convince him if she absolutely has to, but as long as he's willing to more or less go along with her until they find someone better at this, that's fine too.

"I've heard... of Greece," she says as an afterthought, seeming pleased. "I'm named after... an oracle?" she can't help but sound a little amused at that. She wonders if Babs knows?

(Who is she kidding, of course Babs knows.)

[aimedhigh]

"You are doing perfectly well." He's quick to reassure her, smiling. "And I thank you for indulging an overly curious newcomer." Different places, all sent to wherever this is; it's certainly something to think about. He's not sure he'll believe until he sees actual proof, perhaps it's some sort of afterlife? It's a possible explanation, anyhow, and he'll think on it when they're not in danger of being irradiated.

"You are," he nods, though he doesn't know the reason for her amusement. "And I'm named after a Greek hero, so I suppose we should stay together."

[volving]

"Yes," she agrees to his suggestion with a grin. It's the sort of thing she finds funny, what do you want?

She picks up the pace a tiny bit, heading for an area that will hopefully be out of the way of the workers. She could take him to liminal space, but honestly without knowing what sort of a place it'll be this time, that might be a worse place for this conversation than the crazy irradiated spaceship. To compensate for the increased speed, she very casually takes his arm in a way that will encourage him to put a bit of weight on her. The hardness of her muscles under his hand should hopefully allay any fears he'll be too much of a burden for her.

"Who was... Alexander?" she asks, partially out of curiosity and partially to indicate that she had no intention of asking if he was all right or anything. Men and their pride, honestly.

[aimedhigh]

It does, and he can't help but give her a sidelong, slightly impressed glance. Never mind that it chafes at his pride a bit (and he has more pride than most) to be treated like he would treat a lady; but he is grateful in any case for the assist, so he'll leave be for once in his life.

"He was a great Greek general; he might have conquered the world if he had had a mind to it." He can't help but grin at his own description: he would not (probably) describe himself as great, but the rest sounds rather akin to certain enemies' opinions of him. "I may be a general, but my goals are not half so lofty."

[volving]

He'll learn to expect that sort of thing from her before long, if they interact much. At the very least, she's minimizing the hit to his precious pride by not saying anything about it.

"Probably... better," she says with a small nod. "People don't... like getting... conquered."

[aimedhigh]

It is appreciated. He definitely wouldn't challenge a lady to a duel; but he doesn't much like being needled by anyone, really.

"No, they don't," he agrees with a slight laugh. "I've no intention of the sort, I only ever tried to keep a nation together." Through a good number of things, really: independence, the ratification of the Constitution, and a nearly crippling national debt. He harbored no secret dreams of crowning himself king, anyhow.

[volving]

"That's good." She doesn't really have anything to support that, but she adds, for whatever it's worth, "That's... bigger than a... family. But still... important."

[aimedhigh]

"Much bigger than a family, yes, but --surprisingly like one, in its own way." One could certainly describe himself and Jefferson as warring siblings, in any case, and Lord knows Washington had tried in his way to be a surrogate father.

"It would, at least, be nice to know if my efforts lasted." He has a feeling they didn't, with Jefferson in power and Burr in the vice-presidency -- though he can't imagine what went on after his death. "Well. Perhaps I'll find out in this place," he continues, following along with Cassandra.

[volving]

"What... nation?" Cass asks, curiously. She doesn't know all the countries, but if she's heard of his, she can let him know if it still exists.

She can understand wanting to know that what you did made a difference.

[aimedhigh]

"The United States of America," he replies, with some pride. "I cannot think it no longer exists --perhaps it may not, in this place; but in my world..." He makes a brief face at his phrasing. It's a little odd to speak of things so, but Cass had mentioned it earlier.

"In my world, at least; I think it would be highly improbable for us to be conquered. No one would have it, we fought hard enough the first time."

[volving]

Well, in that case, Cass has some good news for him, and she is very pleased to be able to tell him.

"That is where... I'm from," she says proudly. "I... don't think it's... here. But I'm... from America."

[aimedhigh]

"Are you?" He's grinning, a slightly welcome respite from the earlier confusion--though it's still rather apparent.

"Where are you from? I lived in New York City. Tell me everything, as much as you wish, I would dearly love to hear it." And, perhaps, to get more details about his fledgling nation that he worked so hard to help build.

"But I am getting ahead of myself," he amends, with a sheepish grin. "How long has it been since the Revolution, for you? I am only supposing that if we might come from different worlds we may come from different times, as well; and I have met very few women that are as formidable as you, my dear."

[volving]

She is more than willing to provide a welcome respite or distraction from the confusion - it can certainly be overwhelming, she knows all too well.

"I live... in Gotham? It's in New... Jersey." That she can answer. Unfortunately, that's about the only question she can answer with any certainty.

She makes a face. "Um... it has been... a long time," she settles on. "I'm sorry, I... don't know... much of history."

[aimedhigh]

It is, and he'll probably take a moment to freak out about it in private: the knowledge that he's likely never going to see his family again is setting in, and their current whereabouts are not helping.

"Ah, New Jersey. I was .....very recently there, before I arrived here." He doesn't have the best memories of Jersey in general, really, considering all the time spent there during the revolution. "It's alright," he says again, hoping to reassure her. "I am content, for now, in the fact that our republic will survive for a long time yet, at least from where I am standing."

[volving]

It's a kind gesture, his attempt to reassure her, and she appreciates it. They finally clear the edge of the evacuation zone, and Cass steers them to a recreation area (that is, for obvious reasons, deserted) so that Alexander can sit.

"I want to... learn," she admits as they reach the seats. "But... it's slow. Hard. Words are..." she trails off and gestures helplessly. Words, man. They certainly don't come to her as easily as they do to him.

[aimedhigh]

He does sit, though he is very careful as he settles himself down. It's a relief, though it was quite the surprise when he got here and found that he could move again.

"Well, if we remain in contact I might at least help you learn a little of the revolution," he offers, slightly tentative. It's rare that he has the patience to teach anyone; but he's at least a little older and wiser now, prone to at least thinking over things a little before he jumps headlong into them. "I was there, it would be a first person perspective."

[volving]

Judging by the brilliant smile she graces him with, the offer is greatly appreciated. Cass loves to learn, and there's so much out there she hasn't had a chance to learn yet. Unfortunately a lot of learning seems to be very focused on reading things, and... well, that's right out, of course.

"I would... like that," she says, a little shyly.

[aimedhigh]

Luckily, she's run into a walking encyclopedia and polymath. His patience may be limited, but learning new things is one of his favorite hobbies. "Oh, excellent," he replies, gracing her with a smile. "I'll be sure to keep it in mind, once all this has settled."

[volving]

His patience may be short, but he seems like the sort of person to attack a problem from as many angles as possible, even when that "problem" is "trying to teach Cass", which is something Barbara - for all her intelligence and skill - always failed at.

He has a kind smile, and that makes Cass more confident in her initial opinion of him, that he's a good (if confused and new) person. That's always a relief, though she very rarely pegs people incorrectly.

She tilts her head a little, taking in his tone, expression, body language as he responds. "You... like learning."

[aimedhigh]

He certainly is, though sometimes it takes a while for him to be willing to compromise on certain subjects. That likely won't happen should he teach Cass, she somewhat reminds him of his children. Granted, she's likely near the same age as some of them, and that brings out a bit more of his fatherly side. He does have one, though he doesn't often show it in public. (He has gotten better at it in recent years, staying closer to home and all.)

"I do," he nods, still smiling. "Perhaps that's an understatement; learning as much as I could got me ...a way out of a less than pleasant childhood. It got me everything I wanted and more." A wonderful wife, a good position in the government, not to mention his law practice; and most importantly, a ticket to America in the first place.