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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.
no subject
"Yes, the Knights Templar are in my land, making it even more of a mess along with all the other Crusader factions... As for the lands visited on what are called 'Jaunts,' they vary. The last world's 'glasses' would have been more antiquated than yours, if they existed. The Jaunt before that, they were common enough, but again, the designs were before your time. The Jaunt before that, my first one, was in twenty-first century Britain.
"I am sorry," his spare, no-nonsense tone gave way to a quiet empathy. "Perhaps we will return to that world someday." Homesickness hit Travelers sometimes, even tough ones like Altaïr, who was used to maintaining a stoic image.
no subject
"They're still around in my time." He'd leave information of the Assassins for later. Though he did pay attention to the rest of what Altair said. "If it comes to it I can put them in my pocket at least."
"About what? It's not a perhaps." Okay, there's a bit of bravado there, but he needs to get back. He needs to know that Rebecca's okay at least, he'd be fine with the rest of the world going to shit as long as she was alive. He wasn't going to lose her, not after Lucy, and Desmond.
no subject
With the way his eyes kept glancing around, it appeared as if he was worried about invisible eavesdroppers or bad spirits. He was not going to rule out that the Arcana were capable of being both. Once, they had posted photos of key moments in past Jaunts, though they had not appeared to be there at the time. And the Emperor had claimed they could appear in Liminal Space at will. That worried Altaïr more than anything else. He did not want to talk of something so close to his secrets out here in the open, but he also wanted to ask Shaun more about the Templars.
"I should show you some of our records. Travelers come and go, so they are sparse and incomplete, but I think you will find what we have of interest. There are published books as well, including some I have read back home. This library is in a collection of rooms we call the Workshop. The man who built them disappeared" —his eyes flicked down and away— "but his work remains."
no subject
"If it gets us out of the open, sure." He had noted how Altair was glancing around. The enemy might not be what he's used to, but standing at the side of a country road, was a bit too exposed for his liking.
He also noted the slight pause there. "A good friend?" He only asked because he was curious. "Unless you don't want to talk about it."
im just making up how the door is positioned since i dont actually know how this setting works
Unlike the distant barn, which stayed frustratingly right where it was, the ornate, wooden door to the Workshop drew closer and closer. It stood with no apparent building or wall to be an entrance to, though Altaïr approached it as he would any other door. Someone with an eye for historical architecture might recognize the stylizations of the Renaissance. Altaïr opened it with ease; the door was not locked.
The large, open room was lit very differently than the "light" of Liminal Space, suggesting that the Tuscan rays filtering in through the windows were fake. Immediately, bookshelves greeted them, though this was more an area for projects than the library he'd mentioned, as suggested by the tables and chairs. Art was attached all over one wall, a variety made by Travelers, including some sketches in a very familiar drawing style, very lifelike and filled with curved lines that explored anatomy and gesture with a careful but enthusiastic brilliance.
He turned and entered the library, a tower with a ramp spiraling upwards. He stopped and cast a long, intent look around, though he did not seem to be searching for a book. The books were sorted by general subject, then by era, Classical Antiquity to modern times. The first level was dedicated to general humanities and a small children's section.