Test Drive #6

[powersthatbe]

Welcome to the Synodiporia Test Drive Meme! Below the cuts there are three 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!

Our upcoming app round runs January 1st-7th, after which we’ll have a Victorian Cosmic Horror Jaunt - the madness of the Cthulhu Mythos in rural 1800s England. With that in mind, here are some darker prompts, to catch the feel of how your characters react in troubling times...

Prompt #20 is a flashback to the Cursed Kingdom jaunt, where werewolves hunted, deadly magical creatures roamed, and magical curses and traps struck without warning. Feel free to play an investigator, a werewolf, or simply a citizen of the magical kingdom who’s become unfortunately lost...

Prompt #21 is a glimpse of a Jaunt, either far in the past or sometime in the future. In the mining village of Enterrado, a gang has taken control of the flow of silver into and out of town, and the only folks with the hope of running them out are a vengeful band of vigilantes and outlaws. With half the Travelers brainwashed into believing they belong to one gang or another, friends are ready to kill friends, and it doesn’t seem like the few sane folks remaining can stop the bloodshed...

Prompt #22 is set in Liminal Space, during a time of instability, where buildings are collapsing and re-forming, and the worst fears or greatest desires of Travelers are appearing (and vanishing again) like all-too-solid mirages. What would your character imagine, and what kind of threat would it present… ?


Prompt #20: Dark Forest
The trees are too thick to let in any hint of sunlight, if there is any, but more likely the world is just as dark everywhere else by now. Tendrils of mist wind between the trees - most of them harmless, but every now and then one will latch onto a passerby like a leech and begin to turn pink as it drains blood. In the open hollows between the trees, shallow puddles of brackish green water contain hidden sinkholes, or startling arcane visions of the dead. Slowly, snakelike, briars grow and slither like a cage from tree to tree, enclosing anyone too slow and cautious in a pointed hedge-maze. And somewhere nearby, a wolf howls...



Prompt #21: Wild West
They've taken to calling the tavern at the end of the street the Bastille. Its windows have been shot out and barricaded, and some of the tables inside have been upturned for cover. But still, despite the tension, people come in to drink. For all that the miners and the vigilantes have exchanged fire in the streets, and three men have been shot dead in this very saloon in the last day, it's the closest thing left to neutral territory. Desperate bargains and parleys are discussed, struck, and abandoned. Drinks are downed in quantity, and it's almost true that nobody gives a damn any more who's cheating at poker. If you're looking for an old friend, or one of the mad strangers from out of town, or even for someone to draw down on, you won't get better terms anywhere else than you will in the Bastille. Come for the whiskey, stay for the knife-fights.



Prompt #22: Chaos Given Shape
Liminal Space bends and drips like a Dali painting, one landscape sagging into another, buildings settling, leaking water or dirt from whatever alien environment is above them; walls collapsing only to reveal something new on the other side, like a caterpillar molting into a butterfly. Calm meditation and focus by Travelers seems to stabilize the environment briefly, but if one person exerts too much mental influence, the surroundings begin to resemble the territory inside their heads. Old fears and nightmares, lost loves, desperate desires all form out of the fluidic landscape - and that's enough to break almost anyone's calm. But two people, working together, can sometimes strike a safe equilibrium...

Comments

#22, will match format!

[stophamatime]

[Places that look weird aren't exactly new, and there's something in the current state of things that reminds Ken of Tartarus - it's not a mirror image, but something about the colors, the way his footsteps echo on the tiles, the eerie silence just waiting for something nasty lurking around the corner to break it and give itself away -

- the way it suddenly cuts off into a landscape that could've been lifted straight from Mars definitely does not remind him of Tartarus, nor does the way space seems to bend at the seams there, the ground twisting upward so violently he trips on it and falls forward face first.

He's quick, though - quick enough to slam the butt of his spear against the ground to catch himself before he hits the ground.

And then he straightens himself up, looking around with a slightly embarrassed expression. Nobody saw that, did they?]

[moonsets]

[ Sorry, Ken.. of course someone would be around to see it - such is Murphy's law when it comes to tripping. The good news is that said spectator doesn't look like he's about to laugh at the kid nearly falling on his face.. although the bad news is probably the identity of said spectator.

One hand shoved into the pocket of his coat, the other one curled around the bus stop sign he's carrying around, he watches Ken with a look that's a little hard to decipher.

It only lasts a moment or two though before he instead lets out a heavy breath. ]

Careful.

[ Shinjiro Aragaki, king of being eloquent and working out issues. ]

[stophamatime]

[That warning would've gotten a very different response, coming from just about anybody else, but as soon as he hears that voice, and looks over to the source, that moment of embarrassment is the very last thing on Ken's mind, because there's no way -

But Shinjiro Aragaki is standing there before him, completely whole, as healthy as he ever looks (the hobo aesthetic doesn't make a guy look super fit, though), and definitely not in any stage of bleeding out from a gunshot wound.

This is how it should be.

To hell with that crap!

It's enough to make the previous night's events seem like an impossibly vivid dream...although given the current state of everything, Ken's sensible enough to realize that it's far more likely that this is the dream. But even if it is - he wasn't ready for this, because even after last night and the sudden desperate feeling in his gut that this wasn't what he wanted after all, that Shinji couldn't die now because...because...

It's not like Ken still has any idea what on earth he's going to say to him.

Not knowing doesn't mean he's not going to say anything, though, because he doesn't stop think before one thing slips right out of his mouth -]

This isn't how it should be at all!

[moonsets]

[ He doesn't look too surprised by the reaction. Even if Ken is shouting it, even if it'd be an odd reaction to what Shinjiro said for anyone who would look on and not know them, Shinjiro himself doesn't even flinch or really move at the wortds.

He knows it's not how it should be. He, too, remembers the night that ended with two bullets in his body and a drop to the cold ground, and then.. nothing. Nothing until he found himself here, but it's not like this can be the afterlife if Ken is here too, so something just went horribly wrong or weird along the way. (It's not how it should be, because he got what he deserved and managed to stop something even worse happening to the kid along the way, and that was that.)

But both of them freaking out won't do anyone any good, and if there's anything Shinjiro is good at aside from being a mother hen, it's keeping his calm when others freak out. ]

Yeah. It's not. [ The words themselves even are calm, without any particular emotion, even if they're a little bit softer than they'd usually be.

But even so, there's only one thing first and foremost on his mind. Because he's dead anyway (even if he doesn't really feel like it right now), and he got a fitting end, so-- ]

Let's get you back home. [ He's already stepping forward to look around further into whatever kind of weird place they ended up in. Because what is confronting his issues now if he can just focus on doing what's right for Ken instead - something he should have been doing a long, long time ago, anyway - and just wallow in his own issues and guilt for all eternity in whatever afterlife is waiting for him, who doesn't have anywhere to go back to?

So that's that. ]

[stophamatime]

[He makes it all sound so simple.

There's absolutely nothing simple about this, and Ken hasn't even started thinking about the problem of where they are or how he's getting back - which probably won't be simple either, though it's the last thing on his mind either way. What's even back home for him, now?

Not his mother, certainly. And not revenge, whether he wants it or not.]

What's the point now?

[moonsets]

[ It's not like he doesn't get it. Feeling like there's nothing left for you, that there's no point to anything - the only point to anything had been to repay what he had done, to repay his sins with blood.

But it's exactly because he understands that he doesn't want the same for Ken. He's still young, he's not drugged up on stuff that slowly kills you just to keep your Persona in check. Even if his mother is gone (because of him) and his revenge, too (because of him), there's got to be more for him out there.

Which is why he can't just accept those words. ]

Is that really what you think? [ He turns to glance back at Ken. ] That there's no point?

[stophamatime]

[It was easier to talk to Shinji, he thinks, when Shinji wasn't looking straight at him. It's not as though he could forget any of what happened before, but Shinji's gaze feels more like it's forcing him to look everything in the face than his blood on the pavement did.

Maybe it's because they're a day and a world removed from what already happened, but it could be a year and a hundred worlds and he still wouldn't be able to wake up and tell himself it was all a dream.]

I thought I knew what I wanted.

[It seemed a lot simpler then.]

I don't know if I want anything now.

[What he does know is that he didn't want - doesn't want - this.]

[shiroganeheir]

From another seam that looks suspiciously like some sort of lab from an action flick, two figures emerge, one short with a blue hat and a drawn gun, and another floating behind the first.

Naoto walks over to the boy, returning her gun to its holster under her jacket. "Good day."

[stophamatime]

Despite the fact that Naoto's approach isn't really in any way deliberately threatening, Ken can't help but tense up - because the last time he met a stranger with a gun and a Persona, to say things went badly would be a understatement.

So his grip tightens on his spear a bit, though he doesn't make any aggressive movements himself, and his gaze goes between her and the figure behind her a few times. (Her is not a word that Ken is at all applying to Naoto in his own mind, but that's the least of his concerns right now.)

"...hello."

He may be suspicious, but that doesn't mean he's not polite.

[shiroganeheir]

Naoto waves a hand at Yamato-Takeru who floats a few meters away from the pair to take a defensive posture, vigilantly watching for anyone or anything that would cause a problem.

She holds up her hands. "I mean you no harm, and neither does Yamato-Takeru. He is a Persona, a part of me. I have complete control over him, and he is not going to attack."

Naoto is not necessarily good with children, having never truly been a child herself, but she's trying. "I mean no harm either. I am Naoto Shirogane, a detective."

[stophamatime]

"I know about Personas."

Maybe it's not the smartest thing to just admit he's got a clue about, to a stranger. But she doesn't seem like she has much in common with Strega, who never exactly made overtures of being anything but the enemy, and maybe that's good enough to put whatever worries he has to rest.

Or perhaps - far more likely - Ken's still just not in a mental place to pay more than cursory attention to self-preservation.

"...I'm Ken Amada."

[shiroganeheir]

"You do?" Naoto looks curiously at the boy. "Do you have one yourself?" Yamato-Takeru looks over for a moment, then goes back to ignoring the entire situation.

"It is good to meet you, Ken-chan."

[stophamatime]

He's nodding in response to the question when she calls him Ken-chan...and his brain comes screeching to a dead halt.

Okay, he's definitely younger and shorter (despite all his best efforts to at least do something about the second), but he's not as tiny as he used to be and surely that's got to be worth a -kun by now, right? Right?

"Please don't call me -chan!"

[capital_punishment]

Of all the times for new humans to start popping up in here - especially clumsy humans.

[Moh Shuvuu really hopes this human doesn't need or want guidance of any sort; she's not keen on babysitting some stray human while she's trying to find her own. Why had she had to get separated from him now of all times? He's much better at dealing with clumsy humans who have no business being here. Then again, that's probably because he is a human; Moh Shuvuu sometimes lets herself forget that fact.]

[stophamatime]

[Clumsy and defensive humans, clearly, because Ken immediately balks at that. He's not habitually clumsy! He just tripped! Once!]

It could've happened to anyone!

[He is, granted, also wondering what she is, aside from clearly not human, but he pals around with a robot and an intelligent dog, he's got a little more suspension of disbelief for these things than the average kid off the street.]

[capital_punishment]

Too bad it happened to you, then.

[She's going to get stuck babysitting this human - she just knows it.]

[stophamatime]

[He's eleven and three whole months he does not need babysitting!!]

I guess it's easier not to if you never have to walk anywhere.

[This is not at all a politely passive-aggressive way of saying that people with wings don't get to judge him.]

[capital_punishment]

[Keep telling yourself that, small human.]

I guess somebody has to crawl around in the muck.

...Speaking of which, you should probably go stand somewhere else before you sink in completely.

[stophamatime]

...

[He totally knows what he's doing, gosh.

...but it is a fair point, enough for him to put other thoughts on hold and back up a few paces, to a spot that's well contained on the solid tiles of not-quite-Tartarus.]

What are you?

[Too comprehensible to be a Shadow, that much is for sure...and while she reminds him a bit of some of Minato's Personas, he's definitely sure he's never seen Minato summon something precisely like her.]

[fridgeninja]

[A kid with a spear is a slightly alarming sight, but Souji's seen enough stranger things to adjust. His main concern, as he moves closer, is keeping them both safe. As he moves, he carries with him a bubble of dark blue carpeting, low ceiling, and an edge of black metal wall and tinted window - the Velcet Room, as he remembers it, a just-barely-stable projection a few feet around him.]

[stophamatime]

[The Velvet Room isn't familiar to Ken - not on a conscious level, at least, but there's an odd feeling about it. Or maybe it's just a feeling about this guy?

It takes him a long moment to place it - longer still because he winds up second-guessing the impression as soon as he can put a name to it. He's reminded of Minato, a little bit, but that seems awfully silly because this guy doesn't really look much like Minato at all.

(If you realized, Ken. If you only realized.)

It's enough not to get him to back up defensively, at least, even if the look he gives Souji as he approaches is certainly a little dubious. Strange places are enough to get one a little wary about strange people...and strange people who are apparently carrying chunks of strange places around with them seem like cause enough to be a little warier.]

How are you doing that?

[fridgeninja]

Actually, I'm not sure.

[He admits it readily, shrugging a little and offering a slight what-can-you-do smile that makes the world around him ripple momentarily, and causes him to stop and take a deep, steadying breath.]

It seems like everything is fine as long as I keep my cool.

[stophamatime]

Your cool...

[There has never been a time in Ken's life where keeping his cool sounds like more of a herculean effort. But being subject to the whims of space around him doing whatever it feels like isn't exactly great.

It's enough for him to take a deep breath and exhale slowly and...try to think about cool.

(He's got a lot on his mind, but he's trying, okay.)]

[fridgeninja]

[Slowly, things stabilized just a little, until the bubble of space around him nudged its boundaries against Souji's blue velvet limousine interior.]

Just like that...

[stophamatime]

[It's not the most cool-inspiring bubble, by the looks of it.

It's the pavement and sharp corners of one of the alleys in Port Island, the bubble tinted with the eerie green of the Dark Hour - and the ground splashed with a dark bloodstain.

Ken's not really looking at it, at first - he's trying to focus. But once Souji's words indicate he's managing something, he stops and lifts his head to take a slow look around him.

...well. He can't exactly say he's surprised.]