Test Drive #21

[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 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.

Comments

[smokeandcarbs]

"Physical." he repeats, remembering what Eliot has done so far - warmth and fire -, happy that now he has a name for it. While he has been dismissive about the idea of magic itself, he is perfectly capable of indulging the thought when he relates it to Eliot, because it fits him and Eliot is fascinating.

He can't help but smile at the way the magician dodges his comment about his kindness, just to go for that specific choice of words am I going to have to stop you? "Do I look like I could outrun a monster?"

But the question is important, so he takes a while to answer it, carefully working on the delicious dish.

"If such metaphors are the product of my mind - and I believe they are - it would be unwise to ignore them before I have an idea of what they stand for. Especially when they are so strong. The food is still delicious. The rain is still cold. I'm quite certain pain will hurt." Adopting a more self-deprecating tone, he concedes: "And in the very unlikely chance that you're right and all this is real, I wouldn't wish to die for my stupidity either. Lotta would be very angry if I did."

In the end, he will have to look at things for what they are and make his decision when he's better informed. Isn't that always the case?

"Why monsters, though? Have you encountered them before?"

[unapologeticallyaffected]

"In a way. On my world we have our fair share - " he makes a vaguely encompassing gesture with his fork, " Vampires, werewolves, all that kind of thing. One of the staff at school was a pixie. He had an excellent overcoat. But other than him, I didn't exactly hang with that crowd."

He starts to swirl fettuccine noodles onto his fork, as he adds, "But when my friends and I went to Fillory - one of the other worlds I was talking about - we encounter a sinister little bitch of a naiad, a talking bear, and a walking and talking tree. None of which quite qualify, but close enough."

He finally takes the bite, neatly pulling the sauce covered strands into his mouth without getting a drop of the rich red sauce anywhere.

[smokeandcarbs]

Jean's eyebrows arch noticeably - or at least noticeably for Jean's standards - as Eliot's enumerates each one of those creatures. The talking bear and walking tree may have been a little too much for him. Yup, he's totally bonkers. That's the only reasonable explanation at this point. And he also suspects Eliot is being particularly thorough in his description to tease him.

If that's the case, it's working splendidly.

"What was so excellent about the overcoat?" he asks after a small pause, focusing on the only part that seems to make any frigging sense.

All the while, he's working on the pasta with a little less preternatural dexterousness than Eliot. In fact, a drop of red sauce on the corner of his mouth gives him a somewhat childish look. Apparently, no amount of shock and nonsense will prevent him from enjoying good food.

[unapologeticallyaffected]

"Oh, it was this marvelous old Victorian thing. It's not something I would ever wear, god forbid, but it was probably actually from the Victorian era and it made Bigby look like a side character from a period piece. He was our advisor in school," Eliot explains, and then very casually reaches out and uses his thumb to wipe away the stray sauce from Jean's mouth, as if it was something he did all the time and he and Jean were old friends.

[smokeandcarbs]

The touch is very pleasant, and Jean can't get over how real it feels. It also causes his ears to go red. Eliot's reaching out had felt so natural he had relaxed into it without a second thought. Or maybe it was just the wine taking his defenses down with each sip. But now that his mind has caught up with what is going on, he can't help but feel a little confused.

Still flushed, he blinks slowly at Eliot, as if he were one giant puzzle.

"I don't think we have a Victorian era. What were they victorious about? Overcoats made to last? "

Jean himself is a little partial to overcoats. After all, they're one of the charms of ACCA's uniform. There's actually a heavy, European atmosphere about them. Not that Jean has ever heard about Europe either.

"An advisor...Why would you hang with him for?"

[unapologeticallyaffected]

That little flush gives Eliot a moment of amusement. Jean really is bad at flirting. He wonders idly what the man might be like in bed. More pertinently, he wonders what the inspector is going to make of all the details he's about to provide about his world. Where will Jean think they come from?

"The Victorian era is named for Queen Victoria. She reigned for a ridiculously long time about 150 years ago, and was the queen of what was an extensive empire. Which I suppose makes her an empress, but I never heard her referred to that way. Her era was known for rampant sexual mores which most everyone secretly ignored, and really excellent waistcoats. And overcoat, and hats."

Eliot takes a bite of his bread, washing it down with the last of this glass of wine.

"And our advisor, Bigby, was the advisor for what I guess you would call a magic club. At Brakebills, the college I went to, students were sorted into clubs based on disciplines, so I was part of the physical kids. We were the smallest grouping - there was never more than 5 or 6 of us at any one time, usually. So Bigby would come to offer seminars and lesson specifically on physical magic. He wasn't bad at it, actually."

Eliot gives a mournful look to the now empty wine bottle. "Did you have to go to inspector school?"

[smokeandcarbs]

Always eclipsed by the brightness of both Nino and Lotta, Jean's experience with flirting is quite lacking. It could be described as a long series of helpless crushes intercalated here and there for brief intimacy, most of which died down after he joined the Inspection Department. He's a sad romantic and casual sex had never been his cup of tea.

A queen, though. That sounds quite amazing. Most of Dowa's problems would have been sorted out if they could have had a queen. Then again, he wouldn't have been born. He looks down at what is left of his pasta. Maybe that's how this works. His mind is taking all information he has ever acquired and mixing into something completely new, like tomatoes and red sauce.

"I think one of our districts is a little like that. Nice overcoats, hats and confections, but stuck-up nobility. I believe the people has an uprising about every couple of years? I was their hostage once."

Jean is a little off the mark, though. If Eliot knew Suitsu, he would think it's more a mix of pre-revolutionary France with iron curtain Albania.

"We have an entrance examination. It's supposed to be very difficult, though I have seen some strange people succeed." Present company included. "Why are so few physical kids?"

[unapologeticallyaffected]

"You must have passed it," Eliot points out. "Shouldn't you know if it's difficult?"

He supposes that means no actual inspector school. Interesting.

"And there were so few of us because talent in raw, physical magic is actually kind of rare. There are far more people with natural or psychic disciplines, any of a number of other types of magic. I'm not actually sure why that is, though physical disciplines are the best and most powerful, of course. You don't choose your discipline, it's just something you have an innate talent for. Genetics and personality, probably."