synodiporia_ooc | Test Drive #21

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test drive

Test Drive #21

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 than 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 September 16th–26th. Our next Jaunt will be Night Falls on Yensid, a fantasy Jaunt taking place in a formerly magic kingdom whose history went awry when other Travelers failed to properly complete a previous Jaunt there, one of the many forgotten Jaunts from before Synodiporia properly began as a Dreamwidth game. There will be no Walkabout run alongside this Jaunt.

Prompt #55 takes place in a punishment Liminal Space for a Jaunt that the Travelers failed to solve.
Prompt #56 takes place during the first Jaunt the Travelers made to the Kingdom of Yensid, during its Golden Age.

#55

It’s difficult to make out the shape of this Liminal Space, at first, thanks to the decor; it’s somehow both pitch black and eye-searingly bright at the same time, the pulsing rainbow patterns cutting through the darkness making it all but impossible to properly judge distance. The truly persistent, or those who manage to abuse Liminal ‘down is relative’ gravity without hitting a pitfall for long enough, may eventually determine that it seems to be a giant egg. More so than many iterations of Liminal Space, it’s completely closed off.

Unfortunately, that’s going to be very difficult indeed to figure out. It’s not just the impossible coloration that makes navigation difficult; there’s a terrible storm raging, and the whipping winds and cracking thunder make it all too easy to stumble into a pitfall by accident. And those pitfalls don’t exactly want to let go of anyone they ensnare, either. Errant Travelers may find themselves supporting an impossibly heavy overhead weight, or pushing a boulder eternally uphill, or trying to catch an ever-lowering drink of water, or pouring water into a tub riddled with gaping cracks, or any number of other seemingly endless, pointless tasks. They can be escaped with help from another Traveler, or one person can be released from the task when another stumbles in.

The only respite from this - the colors, the storm, the punishments - is in the form of Travelers’ created spaces, but those are as difficult to get to right now as everything else. Good luck.

#56

It's a chaotic time for the Kingdom of Yensid. The Amulet of Yensid, that fabled magical artifact that must be rejoined each lunar year so that the kingdom's three races can continue their peaceful magical coexistence, has gone missing. Two-thirds of it, the humans' fragment and the Forest Folk's fragment, are nowhere to be found. The capital city is just as bustling as ever despite this, with reptilian Stonefolk flitting from place to place in their usual parkour-like fashion, small animal-like Forest Folk hawking various potions and crafts, and humans making all sorts of deals.

There's an undercurrent of urgency to the day's business. Small groups of three or four of various species move through the city with enchanted mirrors, dowsing rods, fishing lures, and all other manner of magical items designed to aid in the act of finding something, but so far, no one's turned up anything solid yet. A few of the stronger magicked items are leading their owners out towards the foreboding Birdlime Mountains, but that's the most promising lead anyone has.

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"It could be," Eliot has to agree. "But these clothes are going to be completely ruined if I have to stay out here in this any longer, and I don't think there's a Neiman-Marcus for miles where I can get my Brunello Cucinelli replaced."

That said, he simply walks into the doorway, emerging into the Workshop and looking around.

"Hello?" he calls, "Any demonspawn hanging around waiting for unsuspecting strangers to ambush and devour? If so, I don't think there's much meat on me, the fun-sized blond I'm with has some much nicer muscle which probably tastes divine! No? Oh, all right then."

Then, with a flourish, he turns to smirk at Prompto and holds out a hand to the smaller man.

"Are you like a noble or something?" He mutters, not recognising the clothing brand but only nobles and super rich folk call clothes by some fancy name like that.

Prompto anxiously approaches the doorway and peers around. It's well lit, so that eases up his nerves a bit, but still. He's not used to things like magic doors. Gods and demons? Sure, bring it. Some how this is what sets him on edge.

He even jumps a bit when Eliot starts yelling, flailing as if trying to make him be quiet. But again, nothing happens, and he stares up at the magician wide-eyed for a moment before laughing awkwardly and... why not. He takes the other man's hand.

"Like I said. My hero."

"I'm a magician. It's much better," Eliot say off-handly, before he starts his shouting.

After, he glances down at Prompto's hand in surprising, arching an eyebrow at the blond. It's an unexpected move - the gunner hadn't exactly seemed like the 'let's hold band's sort, though he also hadn't come across as particularly gay, either. Smirking, he gives the hand a little tug, pulling the smaller man in to his side, and then wrapping an arm around his back.

"Hand on my chest, look up longingly, and then I believe the appropriately Hollywood way to utter the phrase is, 'My hero'," Eliot directs, and he says the last two words in his best breathy starlet tone, like he's practically dying to just get his dress off and show the lead exactly what his reward is.

A hand was being offered to him! What was he supposed to do, stare at it blankly? Ignore it? He's come a long way from being that socially awkward. So maybe he still misses a bunch of social cues somethings, but this at least seemed the appropriate response at the time.

Prompto hadn't exactly known what to expect, but getting yanked up against the guy's side probably should have been one of them, given the ridiculous run of their current conversation. Now the staring wide-eyed happens, the bright blue of his eyes more apparent in the light. Water drips in rivulets from the golden hair splattered to his face, and it takes him a moment for his brain to kick back in and he clears his throat. Time to ham it up.

Hand on chest, batting eyelashes, and he adds a swoon just to be extra. "My hero~."

He's able to holding for about 0.2 seconds before he bursts into a fit of laughter.

It is pretty funny, but Eliot's much better at the poker face than his companion. And that moment of wide eyed surprise was an interesting one, amusing, and all, right, pretty damn cute. The gunner has the appeal of a juvenile animal, and even someone like the jaded magician can't be completely inured to that.

So as Prompto starts laughing, Eliot bends and scoops him up into his arms, bride-style, just like a silent movie hero. Except he has a lot less muscles than said protagonist of the silver screen, and while the blond is light, he's not weightless. Eliot half staggers for a moment before he gets the weight distributed evenly, and then he starts toward one of the couches set cozily around a fireplace, further into the Workshop.

Prompto's laughter gets cut off by a yelp and a momentary flail before he grabs at the taller man's shoulders. It would probably have gone smoother if the two of them weren't bogged down by water, shoes and clothing squishing and splashing water around them.

Again he gets that anak in headlights look, but at least he has the good sense not to keep flailing and get himself dropped. His body goes tense, but he laughs nervously nonetheless, awkwardly speaking a bit louder than he needs to. "Woooow, okay! It, uh.. l-looks like chivalry isn't dead after all!"

"Only going senile," Eliot declares, his muscles straining, as this is probably the most difficult way to carry Prompto he could have chosen. But it wouldn't have worked any other way, really. It's lucky the couch isn't too far, because his arms are trembling a little by the time he reaches it, and instead of laying the blond gently down, he half dumps him onto the pillows and then very nearly falls on top of him, managing to just catch himself on the back of the couch.

"Well. That was a lot less graceful than I would have liked."

Prompto is getting ready to be dropped even before they get there and is pleasantly surprised they made it. He bounces a bit on the couch cushions, then scrambles over a bit to make room for the magician to sit. Chuckling, he pats Eliot on the shoulder with a silly grin. "You'll make a valiant knight one day. Just gotta believe in yourself."

"Oh, Christ, never," Eliot groans, flopping onto the couch himself in the proffered space. "Don't they have to be celibate? And pray all the time? It sounds like a nightmare. Besides, I'm not exactly interested in earning a lady's favor."

"Uh... no?" He tries to run his fingers through his hair, only to pull a face and wipe the lingering gel on his pants. "I'm a knight, kinda sorta."

"Kinda sorta?" Eliot repeats, then smirks. "So that means you can engage in acts of utter and depraved lasciviousness? Hmm, you may have just gotten more interesting."

"We don't wear shining armor or anything like that, but we still protect king and country." Prompto raises a brow and gives the other man a sideways glance, noticeably redder in the face.

"Technically. I-i-if I wanted. I could totally do all that. Maybe."

"Technically? Maybe? You don't sound very sure," Eliot points out in a lazy tone, shifting his body so his back is against the arm of the couch and his long legs are stretched out in front of him, encroaching rather blatantly on Prompto's territory. "Or are you just not interested in that sort of thing. Being a virtuous defender of the crown and all."

"Technically I can do whatever I want." Though he has a friend that is far more adept at such things. He's just a novice. If that. Pretty sure he doesn't have enough sexy points to even be considered a novice.

He remains perched on the other end of the couch, foot tapping against the floor. "I've just been, uh.. busy."

Edited 2017-09-22 04:54 (UTC)

Oh, this is fun.

"Busy with what?" Eliot asks. "It must be good, if you've been turning down all your suitors."

"Oh yeah, cuz I've got a whoooole following of adoring fans vying for my attention!" He says sarcastically with a self deprecating sort of laugh.

"And I've been traveling with the king. That whole... sort-of-being-a-knight responsibility thing."

"Exactly," Eliot points out, poking Prompto with a toe. "Virtue, responsibility, no thank you. Sounds tedious. Unless your king is fantastically good looking. Is he?"

The magician leans back, wishing for a cigarette very badly. "And I'm sure you've had your fair share of interested parties. You're certainly attractive enough, in a Huck Finn, aw, shucks kind of way, plus those arms. You probably just don't notice because you're too vigilant."

The funny thing is, there's no teasing Eliot's voice. He speaks about Prompto's looks in a very matter-of-fact tone - of course he's handsome, the only debate is in what he does about it, or notices.

"Noct is unfair levels of good looking. They all are." He's just the upstart rookie tagalong really, but he's going to keep that bit to himself for now. "Virtue and responsibility doesn't sto- w-w-wha??"

Prompto stares at Eliot like he just grew another head, his face going red as the magician continues He sputters for a moment then laughs again, shaking his head. "Pretty sure vigilant is the last word people would use to describe me. It's usually "Hurry up, Prompto! Or-" He switches to something of a british sounding accent. "Keep your eyes on the road, Prompto! Or-" Now he makes his voice all gruff sounding, "What's where you're firing that thing, Prompto!" Then he's back to normal. "Like it's my fault he decided to run in front of the guy with the guns!"

Deflecting a bit? Maybe.

Eliot listens to this little speech, his lips curled slightly in amusement. He wonders about this man's friends, this king named Noct and some Englishman, or whatever space world England is called. It's interesting ... but right now it's more fun to point out the things that make the blond uncomfortable. And to absolutely refuse to be deflected, as annoying as that might be.

"You really don't understand that you're attractive, do you?"

It is annoying. Prompto has no idea how to handle this sort of situation and it shows. His foot picks up it's tapping again and he runs both hands through his ruined hair, the damp, blond strands falling limply around his face.

"I-I, uh..." He goes very red this time, posture stiff. "I mean.. I know don't look like the business end of a Catoblepas?"

"A catoblepas? They have those where you're from?" Eliot can't help but ask, then shakes his head a little.

"No, quite the opposite. You're adorable. Lovely," the magician lists, patting his pockets in the vain hope that he might have left a cigarette hidden in one somewhere. "Radiant. Striking. Exotic. Enticing. Alluring. Tasty. Fuckable."

"Well, yeah?" He says before Eliot continues on, to which Prompto is only barely able to make a soft sputtering sound as a response. One can practically read the error code across the blue backdrop of his eyes.

The application Prompto.exe has suffered a fatal communication error and will be closed. Press his buttons to continue.

Yes, that reaction was definitely worth it. Grinning inwardly (though outwardly as cool as a cucumber), Eliot presses his advantage. He folds up over his long legs, moving closer to the blond, so that soon his face is right there, and he raises an eyebrow.

"I'd certainly indulge, given the opportunity."

Prompto continues to stare wide-eyed at Eliot as he shifts closer, his brain starting to kick in once he's an inch or so from his face. "W-wait.. what?"

His face and ears go red and he takes on the hunched shoulders of the self-conscious and perplexed. "W-wha-? But I'm not- I've never- I mean I'm just-" This is a joke, right?

It doesn't seem to be? It's hard to tell with Eliot, as he often seems amused or aloof from things, but he's not laughing, at least.

"You've never what? Indulged? Been tasted? Been thoroughly ravished? Been with a man? Had someone comment on your good looks?"

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i nearly lost this D:

Noooo

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i do not have a flabbergasted enough iconfor this lmao

Ahahahahahahahahahahahaha

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