Test Drive #16

[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 October 25th–November 1st, but for once we’re breaking with tradition and instead of an upcoming Jaunt, we have a special, upcoming, multi-week Liminal Space event called Welcome to the World Series, which heralds the end of Phase Two and the start of Phase Three of the game of Synodiporia. Having chosen their Champions in Phase Two, the mysterious entities known as the Trumps are divvying up the rest of the Travelers--and in Phase Three they’re playing for keeps.

Prompt #43 is set in an agricultural-themed liminal space—with a bit of fabrics and crafts thrown in.

Prompt #44 is set in the dreaming realm known as Questing Country. Here, with the aid of their Animal Companions, young lucid dreamers from a variety of species (crystalline Hecatites, long-lived Elves, aquatic Vodyanoi, bone-spurred and four-armed Spartoi, scaled Gorgons with their petrifying abilities and tentacled hair, and your bog-standard humans) fight together as Champions against the monsters that arise from the collective unconscious of their species… for now, anyway. At least until they grow up, burn out, or go wrong.

Prompt #43

Right now, Liminal Space is a patchwork of farmland--a literal patchwork, as the ground under the Travelers’ feet is printed fabric, sewn together as if it were a quilt. One patch has a field of lettuce, another a printed field of corn and so on and so forth. Just about every crop is represented in quilted form, including ones that aren’t exactly… standard. Or legal.

Crocheted farm animals roam atop the fields, making needle-clicking sounds whenever they open their mouths, beaks, and snouts. Here and there lie irons, face down, luckily not at all hot. If you climb on top of one, it should be possible to ride it around like a tractor.

As for the farmhouse, barn, and silo? Travelers might be able to see the plush shape of them on the horizon, but no matter how long they travel in that direction, they’ll never get any closer.


Prompt #44

Whether Fire Mushrooms from Nuclear Winter, Men-in-Black from Conspiracy Country, Plague Vectors from the Softened Caverns, Horned Masters from the Stealing Ships, or any of the manifold Nightmares that haunt Questing Country and cause it to summon its Champions, there is one thing all these enemies have in common: they arise from the fears and worries of their world.

Some of these Nightmares are seasonal.

It’s Exam Season again on Hecate, the annual time during its longer-than-Earth year when the young people of that planet take the tests that will determine both their future careers and their very right to be regarded as adults in Hecatite society--as well as the annual practice exams to ready them for it. To be young and Hecatite during Exam Season is to be in a very stressful situation, no matter your capabilities. So much is riding on the results.

So it’s really not surprising that the twenty-foot-tall Test Proctors from the Hallowed Halls of Education positively swarm from the time that the tests begin until the day the results are posted. The Proctors work to corner any young person they can find, essaying volley after volley of exam questions at them until they fail or give up or attack the Proctor--and that’s when the Proctors get nasty.

Comments

[acheat]

"But I like talking, sir." Well at least he was honest.

"That may work for a few of them but I enjoy points for creativity."

[loyalrebel]

"I am not a Knight, do not call me Sir."

Why do people keep doing that?

"These things are here to prepare children, not entertain you. Besides, there are better distractions around."

[acheat]

"It is a polite title designated for males showing some small manner of respect and a great deal shorter than calling you Mister and far more polite than shouting 'hey you.'"

Don't play this game, Malik.

"Well they're doing it regardless, maybe there should be a sign somewhere. 'You must be this old to be here'.

I know! I'm looking at one."

[loyalrebel]

"It is also the title of address for a Knight, which I am not. You can just call me Malik."

He will so play this game, and stubborn his way through to getting what he wants. It's one of his not-so-super powers.

"Besides, I bathe far too regularly to be a Knight anyway."

[acheat]

"How was I to know your name if you didn't state it earlier? I'll remind myself to inform everyone else not to make the same mistake."

You're getting a shitty nickname now.

"Well I can say that you do smell better than most human men I've stumbled upon lately."

[loyalrebel]

"You could have asked." Malik shrugged, "Most people know me anyway, so you are likely a bit sorely out of luck in that regard."

It's probably going to be better than 'that asshole' which is... probably what folks call him anyway.

"Yes, well, I am not from Europe. I think the use of soap is against their religion or something."

[acheat]

"It doesn't seem to be the usual way of starting a conversation if I'm to be honest."

He... has no idea what Europe is. But since he doesn't know what it is, that means he's doubly interested.

"I can't say I've heard of Europe before. It does sound dreadful though if they have such a grudge against soap. I can't recall which God would have such a dislike of it."

[loyalrebel]

"There isn't much that is usual around here I am afraid."

There's a very tiny quirk of a smile at the last bit, and a sigh.

"The Christian one, at least so far as Europeans seem to interpret things. They either sit in their own stink or try to cover it up with perfumes and the like, depending on how much money they have. You can smell their army before you see them."

[acheat]

A giant proctor passes by the pair, hounding a terrified ginger haired girl with questions on how long the average elephant gestation period is.

"You don't say."

In any case.

"Well why on earth would that be? Perhaps that's one of their methods of battle."

[loyalrebel]

Another shrug, "I do not find it a very effective one, they make themselves easy to find and they die just as easily as anyone else when you put a blade in the right place."

Malik isn't sorry if that's a concerning statement to make to someone he doesn't know well. He's done with pretending he's things he's not.

[acheat]

"But only from a distance I wager."

It's okay, Jarlaxle has no issue acknowledging he has a few things off about him too!

"So perhaps it'd be more along the lines of an arrow in the right place."

[loyalrebel]

"I prefer throwing knives. They require less equipment to use and are easier to retrieve." That and until recently he'd only had one arm, which makes archery rather more trouble than it's worth to say the least.

"Though having the ability to delegate missions to others is also just as effective."

[acheat]

"Ah, but that takes a bit of skill and a sharp eye, doesn't it? I imagine you must be an impressive man in combat then?" Flattery or flirting? WHO KNOWS.

"But that's not as fun."

[loyalrebel]

"Only if you are an ally, my opponents tend to have a rather different perspective on it."

Which one this guy's going to be is still up in the air a bit, even if all Travelers are supposed to be on the same side.

"It can be when they expect something else. I enjoy doing the unexpected."

[acheat]

"Are you saying your opponents wouldn't find you impressive at all? Now that's no way to talk about yourself, Malik."

Be nice, Jarlaxle.

[loyalrebel]

"No, I am saying that they rarely survive to say anything if they truly are my enemy. Sparring with a friend is a different matter entierly."

[acheat]

"You should leave a few alive. Stories don't get out from dead men."

Well that's only if you're trying to run scare tactics and be a huge terrorist.

Jarlaxle.

You huge asshole.

[loyalrebel]

yeah, about that.

"Dead bodies deliver much the same message. Or a knife in a king's pillow beside his head."

[acheat]

"Or someone being poisoned at the kings table. There's dozens of options, really."

[loyalrebel]

"Mn, but it is hard to make sure that the poison gets to who it is meant for while not harming the overworked staff. Getting in and out of a palace or army encampment? Easy."