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synodiporia_ooc2016-10-14 02:43 pm
powersthatbe) wrote in synodiporia_ooc2016-10-14 02:43 pm
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Test Drive #16
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.
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.
(B ❤
Axel turns his head, taking in first the giant cat, then the man beside it. A man who isn't human, if Axel had to guess. Sure, he's seen his share of pointy-eared people, but this guy's on a whole different level. He might have medals for those things. Of course, Axel hails from a place where ducks talk and a mouse is king — and Axel himself is hardly human — so it's not exactly an attention-getter.
That cat, on the other hand. That cat is a different story.
His eyes don't linger on the animal, even though it certainly deserves more than a passing appraisal. Can't show too much interest before getting a read on the situation, right? But he's gotta wonder at its capabilities. Based on size alone, it is not something he wants to tangle with. For now, that's all he needs to know.
It takes perhaps two seconds for the Nobody to choose the best course of action: Play Nice.
"Is that right?" he responds, then looks at the llama again. "How close is too clo—"
The question hangs in the air, unfinished, interrupted by the horrible sneeze-like spit of something that flies directly onto Axel's face.
... Ugh.
I thought you'd might choose that
The cat usually doesn't talk, either, but now she does. Not that it would surprise Axel any. It'd just be normal for him. Guenhwyvar, with an intelligence more than most cats in her green eyes, seems amused that he refuses to linger his eyes on her, sitting down next to Drizzt and starting to lick her paw despite the agitated llama.
She also continues to lick her paw after the llama spits.
"That would be too close," Drizzt states, being polite enough not to do more than quirk the corners of his mouth before leaping forward and smacks it on the behind, quickly enough to send the llama running away. "They are temperamental creatures."
you know me well
This is not the kind of first impression he likes to make.
For some reason, the guy — who quickly proves helpful, by sending the llama running — isn't laughing outright. It strikes Axel as unusual: he's aware of how ridiculous he must look. Either the man is being polite, or he has no sense of humor. Hm.
He wipes the back of a gloved hand over his mouth before speaking. He certainly doesn't wanna taste the stuff. "You can say that again." Then he starts wiping his face from the top down, so he can puuuuull the seemingly endless strands off of his chin. It looks as silly as it sounds. "Ugh. Feels like ... sticky, wet noodles."
That I do
"I was wondering how it would differ from a normal creature," Drizzt does look at the threads curiously when Axel goes about ridding himself of them. "At least it did not get it inside your mouth, so it could have been far worse."
'His' cat, however, is most assuredly amused. Guenhwyvar is 600 pounds. She really doesn't need to hide it.