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synodiporia_ooc2014-12-26 04:17 pm
powersthatbe) wrote in synodiporia_ooc2014-12-26 04:17 pm
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Test Drive #6
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...
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...
no subject
[That does get a small chuckle from him, and as the dance grows more complicated Leonardo easily catches up with the motions. Soon he's smiling again, genuinely, as he had before the fight broke out.]
I admit, that is why I am here also. I had hoped to overhear something, but so far, they seem more interested in gambling. There is a little talk of the mine starting to dry up... and that seems to be increasing tensions everywhere in this town, as we have already seen.
[At first, his eyes widen in surprise - a clear sign that he recognizes the name - but he manages to compose himself quickly, leaning in for more of a whirling step, and so that they may speak with less fear of being overheard.]
I am afraid, Signora, that I am simply a messere, and do not deserve the title of signore. I am not of noble birth, as her Highness is, and I have no holdings that would offer me such a title. [With that murmured, he draws away again, returning to the familiar steps from before.]
But he does have a name: Leonardo da Vinci, at your service. Leonardo will do just fine, unless you feel you must call me Maestro.
no subject
They wish to work, but if the mine yields naught, then surely other means to make the town prosperous and enrich its inhabitants might be found. Or, perhaps the men should begin prospecting anew.
( just ideas she has been thinking about all night while listening to the drunk patrons complain about their lot in life all evening. and it's like this every evening. her conscience won't allow her to leave the people of this town in such a lurch without at least trying to help them. it is a like responsibility to that which she'd have toward her own people in england, after all.
elizabeth steps about him expertly, and whirls with a fluid grace as he takes the lead with her so they might speak more clearly. she could see the recognition in his eyes the moment they widened. he's heard of her. and thus she squeezes his hands gently as she leads him in a slower manoeuvre in which their palms are pressed together once again. )
And yet you have a noble bearing about you. ( it is the truth, and she softens her regard of him to underscore it. ) You may call me Elizabeth, please. I would be friends, especially if you and I are to be allies in this cause.
( and when she recognizes his name in turn, she does not do a double take. her lips part once, and then again in awe and her eyes widen. but her step never falters, and in the end, she looks upon him with a vibrant interest and a sparkle in her eye. )
I am truly honoured, Maestro! I have heard much of your work, and have stood in admiration of it since I was a girl. We are well-met, indeed.
no subject
[It's clear he, too, has been considering the possibilities for helping this world - and as she's at least heard about him, she would have heard it rumored also that he is a gentle and kind man in the midst of such war and violence in his homeland. And he seems to be living up to every rumor.
He squeezes her hands softly in return, the two gliding around each other that few on this new dance floor they've created are even attempting to emulate. He can't help a small laugh at her comments, shaking his head a bit in amusement.]
Noble in some respects and less so in others, I am afraid. I am honored you take such joy in my work. But if we are to be friends, Signora Elizabeth, I must insist that you call me Leonardo. You are not my pupil, after all. You are to be my friend.
no subject
( still, the fact that this place needs a resource with which to promote trade and encourage new settlers is apparent. the mine isn't doing it, but surely farming or some form of husbandry might make for a decent beginning. elizabeth is also thinking about this, the wheels turning about in her mind. and she is not anywhere near the expert in town planning and infrastructure that he is, but if she might contribute even a little bit, she will be well-satisfied.
she is drawn from her thoughts by the sight of other couples attempting to emulate the dance the pair of them have created, and she shoots him a secret smile. )
As am I, if one asks my uncle, the King. Nobility of the spirit, I am discovering, is equally if not more so important as that of one's heritage. ( and since she is all-but engaged to a man who'd been born a bastard, she has little room to judge. ) Then I shall call you Leonardo, and admit to being exceedingly honoured to have the privilege.
Would you extend that honour to taking a walk out in the open air together? I fear there may be naught more to be learned here this eve. But I would speak more, if you find it agreeable to do so.