June/July Test Drive Meme

[sphererpmod]

June/July TDM

Welcome to Sphere's June/July Test Drive meme! This is a great place to get a feel for the game and how your characters might fit in here. Explore the setting, and get your samples and some starting CR all at the same time!

• Applications and Reserves are always open!
• Threads on the TDM are considered game canon if both parties agree to it!
• Threads on the TDM may be considered for Activity Check if need be!

Time to shine, sparkle and become renewed.

So the fighting has finished, the filtering system is turned back on and the water has retreated. Of course, all that water rushing in and having been there for so long means that there is a giant mess in most parts of the Sphere, where water alternated between coming up to one’s ankles, all the way to one’s knees. Even the smaller private domes were affected with lesser amounts of water, leaving dirt and sediment and kelp behind along with an assortment of other sea life.

Now we all remember what happened last time something grew inside the Sphere right? Thankfully, there’s been a fair amount of supplies that have been accrued, and it involves gloves, face masks and a good damn amount of bleach to go with those large scrub brushes. There’s also huge pails of soapy water that are used to clean up things from the bleach. Everything is wet and it smells a bit like an indoor swimming pool, but it’s definitely safer to be safe than sorry.

So pick up a brush and pitch in. Those who do may find a little extra something from the Council delivered to their homes in a basket. Those who don’t may find themselves a little bit on the Council’s unofficial shitlist. And given that Max runs the Black Market, it’s not a great place to find yourself. Maybe you were sort of shoved towards this and were doing it haphazardly. Maybe you give a damn. Either way, food and water will come to you, and everyone will be better once this place is cleaned up.

Or so people keep telling ya anyway.

about that bucket of water that you’re wearing.

Of course, if there’s one thing that history and eighties movies have taught us, it’s that where there’s giant buckets of soapy water around, and hoses, and big sponges, then there’s bound to be one thing that happens: a water fight. And a big one at that. Kids (or kids at heart) have been not so subtlety wandering around with buckets filled with cold water, or sponges dipped in them and a few of them have hoses. There’s no bleach in them thankfully (because it’s all fun and games until someone gets a chemical burn) but the water fight is a good way to let off some of the tension that the folks in the Sphere have been getting up too.

So are you a victim, or are you a perpetrator. Do you care either way? But it doesn’t matter because this fight is huge and when there’s this much water flying around, there really isn’t any space for anyone to be a bystander here. Sorry.

with a suitcase full of summertime

Do y’all know what we happened to miss while we were underwater?! The summer solstice. And once things are all cleaned and cleared up, your resident summertime goddess ain’t gonna let it pass without knowing it, and it’s something the inhabitants of the Sphere take to like ducks to water. Wine and dancing is flowing all around and there’s a few fiddlers and jazz musicians dancing around. Because when the queen of the underworld prods ya gently, you get up and do it.

As the night and people’s alcohol levels rise, people start to become more daring with the fire. After all, everything is all cleaned but probably still slightly damp from what had happened, so there’s no problem with people swinging poi around, or using hula hoops set alight. There are even some among us who happen to be going out and jumping over bonfires in order to create good luck for the new year to great cheers of the people around them.

and baby you should see me in a (flower) crown

Do you know what else is a thing during this? Flower crowns. There are tons of flower crowns and various people are sitting around and teaching people how to make their own. The materials, including fresh flowers of all varieties are scattered around the field in the agricultural dome, and people are sitting criss-cross applesauce in order to add ribbons to the stems. For those people who are loathe to wear them, it almost becomes a game for other people to plant them on those resilient folks heads. People use magic or guile or just plain old tossing them in order to make it so that they land on people’s heads. More than that, a group of people will audibly cheer each time one lands. (And of course jeer when they lose one.)

exploration: teeth and bones.

After what had happened, there really is no putting back the seals on the doors to the places that were opened up, even though the council has tried with some of them. There are some doors that are deemed too dangerous to let anyone go inside of (lava and ghosts are not good things to let loose inside the Sphere, no matter how fun it would be at the time) but the door in the infirmary (in the morgue) needs to be open for practical purposes. Which may not be great for people who work in the infirmary, but there it is.

Once people drop through a hatched hole in the floor of the morgue, there’s tunnels extended out for several hundred yards, into the dark. If you have a flashlight, it’s clear to see that here and there the walls are etched with Latin, carved into the stone of the tunnels themselves in what looks more than a little bit like scratches rather than anything that resembles tool marks. The words are repeated at first, over and over: ”cave veniunt!" And "ossa et dentibus illius ruminandum!" Along with the repeated: “cave.”

The skeletons inside are supposed to have been all taken care of, but you can’t help the uneasy feeling that moves down your neck in the darkness, or the way that you can swear you can hear more than a little bit of a hiss of bone. There are things discarded here on the floor of the hallway, gathering more value with the deeper that you go, but is it worth being down here in the dark with the dead for that?

mechanic: memory share.

Too see the full updates on how memory shares work, please visit here

1. Memory shares are experienced over the networked, and beamed directly into the other person's brains as if they are experiencing it themselves.
2. Shares do not need to be written a certain way, but here is a mod example: Too see the full updates on how memory shares work, please visit Max Tinder memory share.
3. These memories are things that they are watching through the experience of the person who's memory has already happened. It's like seeing a recording that feels very real. However, there isn't anything that they can personally do within it. These are things that have already happened to the character and are fixed points.
4. These posts are responded to like a message on the network, and not in the memory itself.

wildcard

This is a good place to test out something like the network or an idea of your own! Remember upon waking in The Sphere, each character is fitted with a small golden circle behind their right ear. This is how they are connected to the network through a neural link. Touch and hold the button to create a broadcast of one of three types:

1. Audio. Your character thinks audible words onto the network.
2. Writing: Your character thinks text into the network.
3. Video. Your character projects a broadcast of a video of themselves onto the network.

Replies are determined by the player. The network needs to be accessed by choice, so character broadcasts are not automatically beamed directly into people’s heads. The Sphere isn’t that rude.

Private messages are allowed by pressing and holding and pressing and holding again as you picture the person in your mind. This can be an image or a name, err more on the side of things being more accessible than less.

photo inspiration

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Comments

Jason Stevenson | Original Character

[snowjoke]

Time to shine

[The cons outweigh the pros of helping. With a begrudging sigh Jason picks up a mop and bucket, not caring to put on any gloves but he is wearing a mask. He wasn't doing a great job cleaning up, only mild effort, just not wanting any of the perks of the black market to slip him by. He hasn't been here long and maybe a glass bubble underwater was a less appealing idea then he thought. ]

This is kinda bullshit. [He mumbles it quietly as he works, everyone here was helping but he's getting frustrated with it all.] Why isn't there like some cleanup crew shit? This fancy fishbowl isn't equipped to clean up some water?

[The grumbling was more to himself than anything but he was not making any effort to keep his opinion down.]

And Baby you should see me...

[This was an enjoyable event, even with the larger groups of people Jason can't resist some nice flowers. He's got some shitty flower crowns falling apart in his hands but he's really trying, one of his better ones is sitting on top of his head as he keeps trying. He watches others do it but he's just not getting the hang of it quite yet.]

Fuck!

[He makes the exclamation loudly as the flower crown in his hand falls back into crumpled stems. He feels a bit bad for ruining them but he doesn't try again right now, too frustrated. He just flops on his back on the nice field and enjoys himself. He's not really interested in forcing them on people's heads, he's not too comfortable around anyone yet to go out on a limb like that. ]

Exploration

[Well... maybe poking his nose around wasn't the best idea. Jason dusts himself off and looks around, he digs through his pocket for his phone turning on the light and looking around. He doesn't understand the words besides seeing the word cave, light shining over the masses of skeletons.]

Not your brightest moment, Stevenson.

[He mumbles quietly walking deeper into the caves. It's getting eerier the further he goes in. Maybe he's making a poor choice but doesn't see any readily available exists anywhere. Most caves end somewhere and hopefully, this ones leads to a way out. For now, he's picking up some of the discarded goods and putting them in his pockets, no one will miss em. ]

Time to shine

[smokedout]

You are the cleanup crew, dumbass.

[As per usual, Dodger is just slinking around behind him like a cat - currently he's leaning on the wall behind Jason, watching him clean. It would be satisfying, if it weren't for the fact that- Jason is shit at this. Actually, it's sort of giving him a headache.]

...Gloves. Where are your gloves.

And baby you should see me

[itsnothingpersonal]

[He is well aware how much his brother and his brother's friends would have, once upon a time, made fun of him for crafting such things, but Loki had a creative streak, and a deft hand, which lent itself well to the weaving of crowns. It was something he'd done often with his mother when he was a boy, in the fields of wildflowers that Asgard had been so rife with before...

...well, it was best not to think about it too much. He places his newest finished crown atop the head of a native girl who's been industriously watching him weave and smiles before looking over to Jason, raising an eyebrow and she curtsies and runs off.]

You need a gentle hand to craft a fine crown, you know. They're delicate.

[It's spoken deadpan, suggesting his first impression of Jason is that the young man is anything but.]

And Baby you should see me...

[blindpuppet]

I don't think that's the answer to your problems.

[Enis replies calmly from her seat at the table. She isn't making flower crowns but she's holding some flowers in her lap like she's safe guarding them.

Her feet are propped up on the table as she gently rotates a daisy between her thumb and forefinger. Enis looks out of place in her dark jeans and leather jacket but she's comfortably relaxing nonetheless.]

Thor: MCU - Suitcase of Summertime. Canon: Infinity War

[elevatorisnotworthy]

[It looked like Thor had arrived just in time. He grinned as he walked around, taking in the revels of the people in his midst. Men, women, he smiled at them all, taking a drink when he's offered. Another one places a ring of flowers around his neck. He nods his head gratefully in thanks. He smiles, moving to listen to the musicians, sipping the wine and letting it all just flow around him.

It allowed him not to think of anything but that moment. The rest, the past, all of it a delicate way to distract him from what he should have been thinking about. The past, the losses, it's all pushed away. He doesn't want to think about any of that, he just wants to eat and drink. He wants to dance and forget, happy when the sun goes down and the fires come out.

The sun would not shine on him for a while.

Thor grins, running up to one of the larger bonfires. Good luck, they say. Well, then who is he to not enjoy the moment. Finishing his drink, he drops his chalice on the ground and runs, jumping high and easily clearing bonfire with a few inches beneath him. He yells, throwing his hands in the air as he turns around.]

And that's how a God does it. Yeah!

[itsnothingpersonal]

[Loki simply wouldn't be himself if he wasn't enjoying a good celebration. He happened to be roommates with the Goddess of Summer anyway, and she wasn't about to let him avoid it. There was wine and cocktails aplenty regardless, so he was right at home. True to form, Loki was moving from one group of revelers to the next, getting to know everyone at least a bit. As the sun went down, he was laughing and joking with a group of pretty girls who seemed to think he had a striking jawline (who was he to argue) when a familiar voice shouted above the din.

His merry expression fell at first, as he looked over from his seat near the fire, but he recovered quickly, handing the nearest girl his drink and standing.]

Is this to be a challenge for the gods, then, Thunderer?

[If Thor wanted to showboat, all he had to do was ask. He waved a hand at the bonfire, forcing his own energies into the flames, and they erupted high, roaring, and bright blue. The gathered crowd gasped and backed away, out of caution and to get a better view. Loki grinned.]

Do you accept?

Cole 'the Grifter' Cash | Wildstorm Comics

[thegrifter]

a. time to shine

[Cole isn't necessarily someone people would think would get off his ass to help people he doesn't know clean up after a natural disaster he hadn't even experienced. Most people don't know Cole Cash. He's a man who knows what it's like to be a defenseless bystander to things bigger and scarier than you, he knows the hopelessness of absolute loss, and he knows the relief of it being held at bay for just a little while.

He's also a man who gets bored really damned easily and he'd rather be working than doing something stupid. Even in the temperature-regulated halls of the dorms, though, it's hot work, and the blond has his hair pulled back with what looks to be a red and black bandana, his black tshirt discarded to the side showing a well-muscled frame scattered with scars. Some were clearly knife wounds, one or two are from bullets...and the others...might be from claws? It's hard to say. Many are faded.

When he notices someone watching but not working, he stops, raising an eyebrow and cocking his head to the side slightly.]

Hey. You. Yeah, you. You plannin' on standin' around or are you gonna do something? Nobody eats for free around here.

b. about that bucket of water that you're wearing.

[He's just taking a break, really, just five minutes to have a smoke and not do back-breaking labor at the behest of people he doesn't even know. He's spent a lot of his life doing shit for other people, though. Showing up with the Sphere in this state is almost destiny...you know, if he believed in shit like that.

Cole Cash: do-boy and grease monkey, always around to get his hands dirty so the suits don't have to, that was his life. He'd almost even made peace with it. He pulled a smoke out of the pack in his back pocket and had just taken that first really puff, just tasted that acrid promise of death that never came-

-when a wet sponge smacked against his chest, splashing just enough soapy water in his face to both extinguish his cigarette and ruin any chance of it ever lighting again. Iceberg eyes raise slowly as he tosses the sodden smoke to the ground.]

You better be runnin', pal.

c. Wildcard

audio; UN: thegrifter

So, I know, newbie and all, but I got a question for you people. Why the hell are you all just fine with some giant space ball shoving a probe in your head that makes you telepathic when you wanna be? That's pretty fucked, you know? It's not...it's not fine.

a. Time to Shine

[lovelylaica]

[ It's something of a shock to Laica, waking up to find herself under water instead of under stone. She wanders the halls of this... thaig? Made of glass? Not really speaking to anybody. Just trying to wrap her mind around her rather sudden change in circumstances.

She stops short when she's addressed by the blond, sweaty man. And maybe she was watching absent-mindedly. What can she say? She likes watching muscly men do things. ]

Oh!

[ She blinks, and finds herself appreciating somebody else giving her a task. Get to work. Then everything else will start to sort itself out. She tucks her skirts up to keep them out of the water. ]

Yes. Of course. What...

[ She pauses a moment and takes stock as the enormity of the task starts to make an impression. Right. Break it down. ]

What are you doing, can I help?

Laica Hawke | Dragon Age

[lovelylaica]

Time to Shine

[ If there's one thing Laica's good at, despite all her affectations of being ladylike, it's work. Fingers to the bone, sunup-to-sundown, the sort of work that leaves one too exhausted to eat or sleep, refusing to stop until her body gives out work. She's still not sure how she was brought to this place, or why, and appreciates the opportunity to work like this. Because otherwise, she'll be left to her own devices to find someway to quell the rising panic that she'll never escape, that her mother and brother will have to survive without her, and that's too terrible to think about.

So she works. And cheats. A little rejuvenation spell here or there never hurt anybody, right? She ducks behind a pile of cleaning supplies and her fingers flare with blue magic for a moment. She looks up when she hears somebody passing, and smiles all big eyes and innocence. They didn't notice anything, right? ]

Just taking a breather, messere. I'll be back to it in a moment.

With a Suitcase Full of Summertime

[ These people aren't Andrastian. There's no Templars and no reason to worry about them reacting badly to magic. Right?

Maybe.

But she can't help it. Fire is her native magic. The one she found first, the one that's still the easiest to wield. The one that comes as easy as breathing. She dances through the celebration, shooting plumes of flame arcing around her or above her and laughing in delight. ]

Isn't it marvelous?

[ She's not totally familiar with the holiday but it's sort of like Summerday and that helps. It's enough. Or rather, she will make it be enough. ]

Exploration: Teeth and Bones

[ Her gear is minimal. Light leathers, her staff, a few potions on her belt. She rolls her shoulders and stretches as she waits for her companion to drop through the hole. ]

Right, then. How do you want to pick which direction to go? Eenie meanie miney?

[ She pokes at the words scrawled on the walls like that will do anything. ]

Wildcard

[ Feel free to PM, find me at barbeauxbot, or just give me a starter and I'll roll with it! I haven't quite settled on a canonpoint to app her from, yet, but I'm going with sometime around the expedition into the Thaig during Act I (for the canon familiar) ]

exploration

[sauntervaguelydownward]

[ Really, he's kicking himself for allowing this. Also kicking himself for wearing his favorite suit. It's not horribly important, any damage can be blown away with a quick miracle. Crowley drops through the hole with relative ease, straightening back up and brushing the offending dust off his shoulders. ]

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by.

[ He recites the poem with ease, glancing down the tunnels and trying to pick. Instead of blindly choosing, Crowley snaps his fingers, causing light to flood the cavern. ]

Ah, much better!

Hades | Hadestown

[kingofbricks]

A: With a Suitcase Full of Summertime

[Hades may be a new face here, but he knows his wife's handywork when he sees it. He isn't much for parties, but he doesn't get many chances to see the summer and damned if it isn't fun to watch. He sits at the edge with the air of a guardian spirit, tall and unapproachable. His foot is tapping slowly to the rhythms of the music, though it's slow to follow the changes in tempo. The music up top is never as orderly as down below.]

Gorgeous, ain't it? [He's watching Persephone, but he won't mind if someone chimes in about the party as a whole.]

B: And Baby You Should See Me...

[Hades has less than zero interest in making a flower crown, but it's another activity he's content to watch from afar. When people start sharing them around, though, that's where he draws the line. He's not going to join in these childish games.

Well, not until a small child approaches him and hopefully offers the crooked crown she put together. Someone might spot him in a moment of weakness, leaning down almost doubled so that she can place it on his head and offering her a kind smile as he stands straight and stalks away, without saying a word to her. He'll be wearing this for the rest of the day, but might not take kindly to having it pointed out.]

C: Teeth and Bones

[Latin. Why is it always latin? Why not a proper language, like greek? Well, whatever, he can read it all the same. Hades can be found wiping his fingers along the walls, and sneering softly as he rubs the dust off of his fingers. Are a few skeletons really enough to keep people away from here?

There's a rattling of bones, and a group of the undead shamble out from the shadows. Glancing around, he lets out a soft sigh before turning toward them with an almost bored sort of growl.]

Stop.

[The word is soft, but powerful, as if commanding a well-trained dog. The skeletons stop short and, with a nod from the king of the dead, they topple into a pile of bones. He has no interest in being disturbed by the dead - this is his vacation, and he's treating it as such.]

with a suitcase full of summertime

[thegrifter]

[Cole himself was keeping to the edges of the festivities, sipping a beer and smoking. He's watching people, too, trying to get a handle on exactly who's around, and who he can count on if shit goes sideways.

Of course, he's also a sucker for a pretty face, and Persephone is certainly that. Cole's pretty good at seeming completely oblivious, but he takes a drag from his cigarette, following Hades' line of sight.]

The girl or the party?

Sansa Stark | Game of Thrones

[toivory]

about that bucket of water

[The young Queen has survived battles by hiding herself away under stone, praying that the men who fought outside would hold. That they would see the dawn. Luckily, this was not that sort of battle. Instead of arrows and swords, the weapons of choice are buckets of water, the screaming is all of pure joy rather than abject terror. All the same, she chose to remain uninvolved, creeping along the sides of the battle, in hopes that no one spot her.

She thought she was doing a great job, too, until someone ran up behind her and dumped a bucket of water over her head. She lets out a shriek of surprised, tensing up as the water dripped down her back. At once she thinks of her little sister, having more than once done the same thing when they'd been growing up. But it wasn't Arya, it was someone else, some stranger. Never the less, Sansa called out after her assailant:] You're lucky that's just water!

[See? This is why she liked to hide during battles.]

suitcase full of summer-time

[This was something she could do. A bright, happy celebration. The music that was played was unfamiliar, but she found herself enjoying it all the same. As the night wore on, Sansa found herself a few drinks in, having had a few dances with the young men who dared to ask. They did not know who she was here, she did not demand their respect or allegiance. These people had never heard of Westeros. Here, perhaps, she could have the opportunity to enjoy a sort of reprise of the youth she should have had. A taste of What Could Have Been.

Glass of wine in one hand, the music changes and she turns to the person nearest her:] What sort of music is this? I've never heard it before today.

see me in a flower crown
[The flowers in her hair were a great deal less heavy than the crown she wore in Winterfell, but she found herself liking it far more. It had been years since she'd worn flowers in her hair- wildflowers she had picked with Jeyne Poole, woven into intricate braids and chains. The one that had been handed to her, white flowers and pale purple, silver ribbons holding it together, was far more ornate than anything she'd managed to create in the scant summer years she'd had.

At least, as it was back home, Spring was here.]

Suitcase

[interconnectedness]

[ While Simon isn't particularly interested in the wine or the dancing he does enjoy the music. ]

It's called jazz. [ Simon answers her. He doesn't ever really expect anyone to talk to him. He tries to stay in the shadows. He's not a particuarly good conversationalist. ]

Tony Stark l Marvel Cinematic Universe l

[notonmyspace]

Time to Shine

Tony hummed as he worked. For all his playboy ways he wasn't apposed to hard work when it came down to it. The scrubbing was good for his weaker right arm and the mask hid his scars. A couple of times he stopped to pull out his tools and tighten a bolt or fix a loose screw. The work was soothing and his humming increases in volume as he works.

[sauntervaguelydownward]

Crowley isn't one for manual labor. Instead, he is watching from the sidelines under a shaded tree. He catches a few bars of the tune, and it's familiar, though he can't place it.

"What song's that? Sounds damn familiar."

Matt Murdock l MCU

[blind_devil]

Summertime

Matt was glad for his ability to stay upright because someone had decided he needed to have more fun and so pulled him into the dance. The music is light and fun and it doesn't take Matt long to pick up the steps. He laughs softly as he's spun into someone. "Oh sorry," he muttered, "I didn't see you there."

[Flower Crowns]

This was oddly soothing Matt thought as his fingers manipulated the flowers and string. The sweet scent filled his nose and made him smile. He was a city kid where flowers were in short supply. The softness of the petals made his fingers tingle and he drops one of them. "Thank you," he says when he senses someone holding it out to him.

flower crowns

[sauntervaguelydownward]

Crowley had only been passing by, really. No intention on getting involved save for maybe creating a bit of a disturbance. Something really low-key that would cause an afternoon of mild irritation as opposed to causing physical harm. He doesn't really know what makes him stop, but he picks up the fallen bud, inspecting its petals and leaves for spotting or wilting before holding it back out expectantly.

He makes a non-commital noise, shrugging a shoulder. "Yeah, sure. Decent flower, at least."

Parker Wagner-Caine | Charmed Reboot

[shadowpain]

( A. Suitcase Full of Sunshine )

[ It's hard not to be drawn into the celebration. It's something that reminds him of Maggie and he wishes she were there with him now. He enjoys the music, he always liked music. He tried to play guitar before but he'd never been much good so he's fascinated with all the talented musicians he comes across and listens engrossed in the music. He doesn't dance. He would if someone asked but he's not seeking it out himself.

There's plenty of drink flowing and he's happy to indulge. His tolerance is rather high between demon blood and being in a fraternity and everything. ]

This is kind of amazing.

( B. Memshare )

( find a portion of the memory in this clip )

[ What's obvious is that it's Christmas. You'd already placed a necklace on Maggie that's supposed to drain the powers of the Charmed ones but ... you couldn't do it. You know you're going to die. It doesn't matter. You kissed Maggie, your fingers sliding behind her neck to unhook the amulet before it goes completely black and slip it into your pocket. That's the start of where you are now.

But things still hadn't gone as plan. Hunter, your half-brother, couldn't just leave them alone. You can't let him hurt Maggie or her family. You become a shadow and quickly retrieve a staff stolen from a priest. It's a powerful item. You can still remember the words the priest chanted. You'd managed to save his life -- at least you think you did, but you know you can't trust that Hunter had only taken the staff and not killed him despite your insistence.

But taking the staff turns out to be Hunter's undoing.

You appear in front of the Charmed ones and their whitelighter. ]

They're not the ones who are going to pay. Temelachus, Deschide Poarta. Temelachus, Deschide Poarta.

[ The hardwood floor is starting to open up, the bowels of Tartarus hot and it's pulling. ]

[ "Little brother, you will pay for this." Hunter threatens you, but you don't stop. You try not to stop, you slam the staff again. ] Temela---.

[ The coughing keeps you from completing the chant and you fall to your knees.

"Poor! Sick! Weak Parker!" Hunter lunges for you, for the staff. But Mel grabs it. She picks up where you left off. "Temelachus, Deschide Poarta. Temelachus, Deschide Poarta." Then Maggie and Macy join, "Temelachus, Deschide Poarta. Temelachus, Deschide Poarta.."

Hunter is losing the fight against the pull. Harry is too close to the portal as he yells "The portal to Tartarus!"

Harry falls in with Hunter, the whitelighter for the Charmed one lost as the staff as well falls in and getting the whitelighter back just became much more difficult. ]

What the hell...

( C. Network )

un: parker

Any brilliant scientists around?

[ He's probably fucked. ]

( D. Wildcard )

[ I'll match tenses and styles! I'm also super interested in doing things with the exploration facet if anyone wants to throw something in that direction. He'd certainly be investigating and his latin isn't half bad. ]

Natasha Romanoff | MCU | Endgame Compliant

[morethanthis]

[Flower Crown]

Natasha never let things go...like ever. It's ingrained in her DNA to keep after something until she figured it out. She didn't have a focus now, or so she thought. She walked around, treating this just like an assignment, smiling when appropriate, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. Natasha had a slight limp, but other than that she had no obvious signs of distress.

She sat on the ground, her legs stretched out in front of her, her face the picture of concentration as she wound the flowers together, her foot flexing back and forth as she worked.

Wildcard

[ Pick any prompt you'd like and we'll do the thing ]

Re: Natasha Romanoff | MCU | Endgame Compliant

[notonmyspace]

Tony couldn't help himself when he walked by and spotted her. Seeing Natasha so focused made something in his heart twist and his foot gently kicked her foot. "I never thought I'd see the day when Natasha Romanoff sat and made a flower crown," he said his voice a soft rasp, "I wish I had my phone for a picture right now."

He shifts his weight to his better leg and keeps his head down so that she can't see yet how much what happened back home has changed him. He feels the stares and doesn't want one from Nat.

Fantomex | Marvel 616

[madeofmirrors]

i. time to shine

[Sadly, this wasn't Jean-Phillipe's first foray into another dimension. This one, he had to admit, was new venture, but without Dustin Hoffman around to safe the day, he supposed he'd best become acclimated. The pods made him uncomfortable, reminiscent as they were of the pod he'd woken in, the pods they'd been transported in, the pods he'd grown in.

It was an underwater facility, out of the eyes of prying citizens with what were likely a plethora of human rights complaints...or they saw them all as interlopers and couldn't care less of they all died.

Actually, those were the humans he knew. Here they all seemed accepting, at the very least. He set EVA in probing the network he'd been so unceremoniously jacked into for all the information it contained, cataloging it for future reference, while he set about exploring their new home away from home. It certainly wasn't a summer home on Crete, if the residue of a hull breach was any indication.

The look of disgust he wore was mostly obscured by the full mask he wore at all times, but it wasn't hidden from his ice blue eyes, and the tension in his jaw as he clenched it as he made the rounds could be seen through the form-fitting cloth. This place was thoroughly disgusting.

The smell alone should have been enough to turn any of their stomachs, but anywhere he went, they all seemed to be...happily cleaning. What was wrong with these people.

Anyone he passes by close enough for the comment will receive the following, in an educated but thickly French-accented baritone.]

You should mop more quickly. The scent of mildew lingers for months.


ii. exploration: teeth and bones

Let it never be said Jean-Phillipe is not a seeker of opportunity. He revels in thrill of discovery, but even more so in the idea of getting to something first, preferably if it belongs to someone else, and claiming it for his own. A thrilling adventure into unknown territory, fraught with danger and lost relics that may fetch quite the asking price in the proper hands at the black market? How could he say now? Once his boots hit the ground lightly through the trapdoor, he allows his eyes time to adjust, pulling a handgun from his belt and attaching a small flashlight as well. His gifts afforded him many things, but seeing in the dark wasn't one of them.

As he proceeds inside, the eerie silence does make his skin crawl, and the Latin scrawled on the walls only serves to grate on his nerves. He possessed three brains for co-processing capabilities, and none of them were designed to understand the mechanics of magic. It was irritating in its utter nonsense. He muttered under his breath, should someone have decided to drop into the trapdoor behind him.

"Of course it's magic."


iii. wildcard: audio; un: phantomas

[The voice coming across the network is a smooth, heavily French-accented baritone, spoken with an air of flippancy and superiority.]

Greetings and salutations and whatever else you all may feel is most polite. I was hoping you might satisfy a curiosity. We all awoke in the strange pods, did we not, and we're expected to return to them to sleep each night. Have any of you experimented with sleeping elsewhere?

Exploration

[doubled_speed]

The worst thing about being a mutant speedster is how easily boredom sneaks up on you. It leads to really stupid ideas sometimes, like lifting a flash light from a store borrowing really and heading off into the newly opened areas. Which are a bit more interesting than the down time work leaves him when there is no good place to party, no free spaces to run, and definitely no heroes to hassle.

Which is why he's in here, running on quick, light feet through the corridors. It's somewhere new, new could be fun, new could be interesting. New is, at the very least, not old.

And new, it turns out, is the stranger in his path that Tommy has to twist nimbly around as he comes around a corner. It's all done at super speed and thus means there's a gust of wind blowing past Jean-Phillipe before Tommy comes to a sudden halt just in front of him. Mostly to regain his balance because he didn't want to fall down here.

"Geez, just, like, don't stand so close to corners and the like, okay? Almost bowled you over."

Richie Tozier | It

[trashthetrashmouth]

[cw: sexy language]

i. gettin' the hose

[ '80s movie inspiration? Check. Kid? Check. Chance to be a perpetrator? Cheeeeeeck.

Richie has jumped at the chance to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting a probably suspecting population and grabbed himself a hose. No one is safe. He stands at the ready, hose in hand, water flowing from the end while he awaits the next schmuck to walk by and suffer his wrath. If he manages to get the drop on someone, he jumps out from behind his hiding place and shouts a battle cry worthy of the gods. ]

EAT SHIT, FUCK FACE!!

ii. oh no, there's alcohol

[ Richie can't believe his luck. Among the festivities and tipsy party-goers are some stray glasses with leftover wine. His dad isn't here to police him. No one will miss this shit. Now's his chance. When no one is looking, he speedwalks past a glass and whisks it under his shirt, guarding it nonchalantly until he makes it to the wall furthest from the hoopla.

If you spot this 13-year-old before he starts to drink his alcohol, you might want to stop him. Or encourage him, if you so desire. If you're too late, behold. You have found a pubescent male experiencing his first buzz, walking around with a doofy grin on his face, speaking loudly and lacking even more of a filter than he usually lacks. ]

Motherfuckers, is this a great fucking party or what? This is a great fucking party! Fuck. Great party.

iii. wildcard

[ Beeee, you know I'm game for anything. Will match brackets or prose! ]

[stantheman]

Richie!

[ Stan snaps and he tries to get away from the spray of the water because he is not in the mood. ]

What the shit!

[ Sometimes he forgets that he's been missing Richie for over a year and this is one of those damned times. ]

Simon Snow | Carry On

[fuckingtragedy]

[[i. time to shine]]

[Simon gave up trying to make sense of it. He was too used to everything literally blowing up around him, and maybe this whole kidnapping business was no exception. Oh, he asked around. He tried to get a handle on it, but he couldn't help feeling it was somehow his fault that he was here. After all, he'd apparently blown massive dead zones through a good deal of the magickal atmosphere in the UK. What's to say he hadn't accidentally transported himself to an alternate dimension or whatever the fuck this was, as well?

But keeping busy seemed to help. He'd never been good at sitting still, and he was no stranger to getting his hands dirty, so cleaning crew it is. And for whatever it was worth, he'd thrown himself wholeheartedly into the effort. Even picking up dead fish and seaweed was better than being alone with his thoughts.

He missed Penny. He missed Baz. He found a couple of hermit crabs he named after them, and he kept them in a little fishbowl he'd found, just at the foot of his bed. He said hello to them every morning, and gave their shells a little pet before he went to bed at night, but the conversation was decidedly not stimulating.

Maybe he'd find more crabs. Create a whole colony, and name them after all the people he missed. Maybe tending crabs would be a better pastime than popping barnacles off of walls. But until he found out for sure, barnacle-popping he would be.]

[[ii. with a suitcase full of summertime]]

[If he kept to himself in the dorm, he'd go mad. There was a certain amount of human contact Simon had to maintain on any given day, and the solstice celebration was positively bustling with people. It was harder to maneuver around crowds with his extra appendages (to which he was still accustoming himself), but the nice thing about this place was that people didn't seem to pay them much mind. At least, not most of the time. Other people simply assumed it was an oddity of his world, and he was too embarrassed by the truth to correct them.

But Simon had gotten into the full swing of the festivities, alcohol and all. It was probably irresponsible, but he hadn't laughed like this since his arrival, and it was a very decent distraction all things considered. He wore a crown of cornflowers (which he couldn't quite remember the origin of) and was trying his own hand at jumping over the fire. Multiple times. After each leap, he'd circle around again to the back of the line, because there was something oddly exhilarating about watching the embers scatter in a gust of wind beneath him.

Granted, he was at something of an unfair advantage. Not everyone had giant red dragon wings to lift them over the blaze.]

Summertime

[flammablepitch]

[Baz had been taking all this in remarkable stride. There was plenty he had to do back in his world (not the least of which was making sure that Snow didn't depress himself into doing something stupid, also, he missed the idiot already). But he also knew there was nothing, no magickal spell or action that he could do to get himself there any sooner than the damn gold sphere that ran this place could. The most he could do now was to get an understanding of this place, so he didn't look like a fucking idiot who had to ask every little thing from whoever he came across. Pitches did not allow themselves to look like fucking idiots.

He made his way through the network (for what could be called a network. Really, who the hell thinks up the idea of putting little gold balls connected directly into someone's brain? Fucking invasive if you ask him.) and learned that some watery calamity had happened two months before his arrival. People's memories showed themselves last month (they were interesting to look though), and this month it appeared calm and requesting cleaning from the previous month's messes — an easy enough thing to avoid.

Instead, he grabbed a bottle of wine and a glass, walking away with it like he'd owned it all along, and made his way to a darker area, just in sight of the idiots jumping over the fires. Really, and people yelled at him because he was flammable. Everyone was flammable when they were jumping over fucking bonfires. Pouring himself some of the wine, he thought about casting a spell to make the flames lick higher and burn some morons when a pair of red dragon wings and an idiotic cartoon devil's tail caught his attention. A pair of wings and tail that were attached to a fucking tragedy of a man who was jumping over said fire. Simon Snow had lost the right to tell him he was doing something stupid. Ever.

Pushing off, the ground he made his way over just as the other man hit the ground]

Come along Snow; your idiocy is showing.

[Contrary to his harsh words, his hand was outstretched, waiting for Simon to take it.]

Simon Van Reyk | Harrow

[indefatigableness]

Time to Shine

[ Simon doesn't mind cleaning. He'd donned clothes and a mask because precautions come second nature. He gets to work scrubbing in one of the domes and finds himself all the more curious about what it is exactly that had happened to cause all this damage. He mostly just hears whispers and the implication that there was even more than what had directly caused this that was making people nervous.

So, when someone ends up nearby that seems more at home his eyes smile at them (since his mouth is covered and all). ]

Can you tell me more about what caused all this? It must be quite a story.

Suitcase Full of Summertime

"That seems absurdly dangerous," Simon commented as he watched someone jumping over a fire. He sipped a glass of wine contently -- or as content as he can feel in this place. He wasn't quite comfortable here yet. His scientific mind couldn't quite accept any of the explanations that had been proffered yet but he was nothing if not determined. He'd deal with his situation the best he could.

At the moment, the best he could was getting drunk and judging those around him a bit.

Mechanic: memshare

David, wait.

[ Simon's in his flat and his boyfriend has got a bag thrown over his shoulder. He feels guilty but it's not the sort of guilty that one should feel. Simon feels guilty that he doesn't actually want to stop David from leaving.

"I'm always waiting, Simon. I don't have time for this anymore. You don't have time for us."

That's hard to argue. Simon spends all his time working with or for Dr. Harrow or Dr. Fairley. If he's not doing that he's studying for his exams or he's doing some side work at hospital.

But he hadn't wanted to lose David but he'd never chosen him when there was a choice between work or their relationship. So, he felt guilty that again he couldn't choose David. He couldn't make him a promise to be there more often, to work less. Impressing Harrow was far more important to him.

He feels guilty that he doesn't fight. ]

I'm sorry.

[ "You're turning into an asshole just like him."

The door slammed and it was fair. Simon couldn't even argue. He felt sad but not the way he should feel sad. But pushing away David did put him one step closer to being a lot more like his boss. Instead of dealing with that, he opened a bottle of red and settled down with some autospy files he'd snuck home from work. It's one way to handle a break up. ]

Network - audio

un: vanreyk

[ Simon's accent is distinctly Australian and his voice is calm, though, an intuitive sort could probably catch a hint of anxiety in his voice. ]

Hello. My name is Simon Van Reyk. I'm not quite sure what's going on here really. There's no way to get back to where we're from is there? I imagine someone would have made it clear right away if there were...

[ What is the purpose of this network blast anyway? ]

I suppose, I'm not quite sure what to do with myself here, being that I can't go home. I don't suppose anyone happens to know a brilliant and yet insufferable pathologist named Harrow do they?

[ He could only be so lucky. He still really wanted to talk to Harrow about what he'd found out. ]

wildcard

[ whatever else your heart desires is all good! ]

suitcase full of summertime

[hellwhip]

What a place this was. Beautiful, certainly, but odd. If she didn't know any better, she might have blamed a certain druid, but he wouldn't have risked the treaty between them. Unfortunately, that left no possibilities. Atticus O'Sullivan and his growing clan of druids were the only planeswalkers she knew of. Clearly there was someone unaccounted for.

She'd forgone a glass of wine for drinking straight out of the bottle (then she wouldn't have to share) and hoping that if she got enough alcohol into her system, something would start to make sense.

And now she'd found herself next to another person, seemingly just as confused as she was, though for an entirely different reason. She almost couldn't resist answering the man, her strong Polish accent on full display. She was just drunk enough not to care.

"It's an old tradition. Something about cleansing or warding off witches and spirits." Clearly it wasn't working well enough. She was still standing there.

Aziraphale | Good Omens (TV)

[mixedblessings]

a. Time to Shine

Aziraphale really didn't care for mess, and usually, with a quick flick of the wrist, a mess might be miracled away instantly. But there were people watching and he couldn't blow his cover, could he? He struggled for a moment, afraid to kneel and ruin his slacks. He took a deep breath, reluctantly bending down to pick up a scrub brush.

"Well... at least they've provided gloves."

b. about that bucket...

Someone had sprayed him with water. I repeat: Someone had sprayed him with water. He had kept this coat in tip-top condition for one hundred years, and now it was sure to shrink or remain stained. Aziraphale shrieked when he felt it, his jaw remaining dropped and shoulders engulfing his neck as he was drenched. He stood slowly, shoulders still frozen and his hands curling up almost claw-like.

"This is not the place for a water fight!" he squealed, eyes darting around him.

c. with a suitcase...

At least the hard part was over. Aziraphale had come to terms with the shrinkage that was bound to happen to his suit. He supposed he could miracle it back to knew, but he'd always know it wasn't the same. He took pride in his belongings, things he'd managed to retain the value of for years and years.

He swirled the wine in his glass, letting it aerate for a moment before bringing it to his nose. He inhaled, fancying himself a sommelier.

"Surprisingly fragrant..." he muttered.

b;;

[sauntervaguelydownward]

He wasn't the culprit, but Crowley was still reaping the benefits as if he were. If he were being honest, the surprised shriek coming from the angel was completely worth the fussing that will come later. Thankfully, or rather, due to some demonic miracle of his own, Crowley has stayed completely dry despite the water war raging around them at times.

"Oh come now, angel, it's just a bit of harmless fun."

Says the demon with a broad grin and not a drop on him.

Kethali | OC

[chained_sword]

Summer Solstice

This is all vaguely familiar, actually. Still, he doesn't mind the celebration, because Proserpina deserved her celebrations before she returned to her husband Pluto's, embrace. Sure, she's not normally the sort to have a lot of fun. But for proper celebrations like this, even Kethali will let loose just a little. Maybe they aren't her gods anymore, maybe they hadn't ever really been the gods, but she can't help the sort of respect she still holds for the old gods.

So raise a glass, people, Kethali definitely is. She isn't dancing, but she does quietly sing the proper respects under her breath, because who doesn't want to give respect to the goddess of the underworld? Gods know that Kethali has sent enough souls to grace her courts.


Flower Crowns

There was a reason they used to use olive branches for honors and crowns. But flower crowns were meant to be for maidens, for lighter celebrations. Still, it's interesting. And her fingers are nimble, remembering some of how this went from a childhood so many centuries in the past. Her crowns are made quickly, woven from quick fingers once she learns her way. But the ribbons she chooses aren't the ones others might. Black and red, sometimes dark purple. Morbid colors, but they remind her of what she is.

Still, she's happy to pass them out when people comes around for more crowns to throw on people.


Network

Well then, this is all just the weirdest. I mean, I've been a LOT of places in my centuries, but this one takes the metaphorical cake. Who ever expected mortals to ever develop what was needed to hide things underwater. So applause.

Flower Crowns

[unknownmoirai]

"Those are lovely ribbons. I hadn't thought to use black in a crown." She'd used rich ruby red ribbons in crows with roses and baby's breath, and then purple ones in crowns of daisy's and daffodils but black didn't feel as festive as all the other colors.

"Perhaps with oak leaves? What flowers would you accompany with it?"

Lorna Dane || The Gifted

[ferrokinetically]

A.Time to Shine

[ Some people might say Lorna had what people called a resting bitch face. It wasn't untrue. When she spoke her voice held a sardonic tone that made her attitude about this place clear as day. Artificial day. ]

So, we got recruited to underwater prison to be...maids? [Sure. Of course. Made sense for mutants to be brought in to become indentured servants to some failed underwater station. Natural progression of things really. Could be worse though. Could be a lot worse.

She heaved a sigh and moved her left hand. Green swirled around it and then the mop near her moved back and forth. Could be worse didn't mean she had to fully cooperate. The best they were going to get was her halfhearted attempt at "helping" to clean up. ]

B. Suitcase Full of Summertime

[ Who would have thought there'd be a summer party underwater? Lorna shook her head as she watched the festivities with a beer in hand. How could people find it in them to be partying while they were trapped here? Were they seriously content to just accept that they were stuck here and try to make the best of it? Humans really were unbelievable. They should be plotting a way out, even if it meant attacking the Sphere itself. But for some reason nobody was even talking about that. Not even a murmur. ]

Do you just like it here or something? Dream vacation getaway? [ It was the question she asked the first person to walk within ear shot. She had no idea who they were but it didn't really matter. What mattered was getting some answers from these people. How ere they so complacent with this? ] Don't you want to get out? Get back to your families? [ Or back to anything at all that wasn't under the damn water. But nah. Evidently everyone was just happy to jump through fire at a party thrown in a prison. ]

time to shine

[thegrifter]

[At the most, it could be said that Cole was 'helping' clean up, except at the moment, he'd decided to take a break when the chick with the green hair had decided to give a hand. She was telekinetic, he guessed by what she was doing with the mop.]

More like underwater summer camp.

[He pulled out a cigarette and lit it with the lighter from the pocket of his shirt.]

Malcolm Meryln l DCTV l

[welldressedevil]

Memory Share;

The memory Malcolm is sharing is one he hasn't thought about in years. He mostly keeps his League training in the back of his head only bringing out the lessons he needs when he needs them. But for some reason this had popped into his head. His first lesson with Ra's himself.

The two men faced off and Malcolm watched himself be beaten again and again, his teacher ruthless as he taught the younger man how to embrace pain and weed out emotion.


Exploration

Malcolm wasn't the type to be afraid of anything. He'd faced humans and meta humans ten times scarier then anything he might encounter down here. The only issue was someone insisted on coming with him, which he wasn't too happy about. "Are you sure about this," he dryly asks his companion, "I can feel someone watching us."


Wildcard

[Come bug Malcolm anywhere you want]

Gwen Stacy - Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse

[hibana_incursa]

[ Memory Share. ]

For as many terrible memories that Gwen has in her head, there are scattered throughout many good ones. Like the one that comes up for all to see. It’s from her point of view and Gwen is watching a couple girls her age from the viewpoint of a drum kit. There are drum sticks in her hands and she’s twirling them idly, swiveling herself from side to side as the opening notes of Bohemian Rhapsody float from her band mates. She drums when it’s time to, pauses when drumming isn’t and at first it doesn’t look like this song is much fun for her. But then Gwen really starts to shine. The drums kick in hard and Gwen is on beat, singing along with a voice that should be center stage instead of behind a drum kit. Whatever. She’s happy. She’s doing drum stick tricks as she plays and she’s clearly enjoying life.

And then the memory switches. Another happy one from her point of view and Gwen is in a black ballet leotard, a whispy pink wrap around her waist. A glance in the full length mirror and Gwen is in dance class with dozens of other people her age, going through exercises and instruction. The dance class is on the ground floor of a building, the busy streets of New York showing through a large window, a Starkbucks (yes, Starkbucks) coffee shop showing across the street and the memory is boring. Skipping here and there, showing later points in the class until it gets to the end and Gwen is stepping out of the back door of class into a side street. Just in time to witness a mugging. There’s a shout of “HEY!” from Gwen and the mugger takes off. So does Gwen. She’s fast. And agile. And when the mugger turns down an alley, Gwen is seen to run right at a wall. Before it’s shown why, that memory cuts out too.

Enjoy.

[ Exploration ]


Typically, Gwen didn’t mind exploding. She’d rather be outside than in and while she’s sure she’s seen a lot of New York, both from up high and on the street, Gwen was sure there was more to see. But this place? This place sure didn’t feel like a good place to explore. Her spider sense was buzzing at her, a warning that she should not be here. That she should head home and let someone else handle whatever it was bugging her.

But that was the thing about being Spider-Woman. Gwen couldn’t leave it alone. If it was a danger to people, she had to know what it was and see if she could prevent people getting hurt or worse. It’s what she did.

But damn if sometimes her spider sense didn’t do an obnoxious full body take over. Like it was right now. Try as she might, she just couldn’t get her feet to move down the very dark and very creepy tunnel she was looking into.

“Dude,” she says to whoever she’s exploring with. “I’m sorry. I just can’t. Full stop. I’m rooted and I’m happy where I am.”

#sorrynotsorry

[ wildcard: have at it. Find her at the party. She will be dancing and enjoying things. ]

Exploring

[notonmyspace]

"It's okay," Tony replied holding his lighted gantlet out to try and shine something on the seemingly unending darkness. "Exploring the dome isn't for everyone. " He moves forward a bit. "I just don't scare easily anymore."

jonathan sims } the magnus archives } canon point is episode 121

[aparticularlyhollowlaugh]

about that bucket of water.

Jon is, of course, a victim of these water fight shenanigans; to be a perpetrator, he would first need to know how to have fun, and that’s clearly not a concept with which he is familiar. Just look at him! Even if they’re not particularly pleased with being unexpectedly soaked, most people would still find a hint of amusement in seeing the young (or the young at heart) at play. Not so with The Archivist - he’s frozen to the spot where he’s been unceremoniously splashed, glowering at the group of pint-sized assailants and otherwise giving a spot-on impersonation of a cat that’s just climbed out of a bathtub filled with water.

“Right,” he mutters, shaking the water off his arms, then pushing his damp hair back from his forehead. “I suppose I’ll just go change into something a little more dry. Again.”

Yup, that’s right - this isn’t the first time today he’s found himself caught in the middle of an aquatic battle. He glances around at the surrounding environment with narrowed eyes, gauging the likely risk of receiving another surprise shower if he once again sets off to find a cup of tea.

“On second thought, I’d better look into finding something a little more waterproof. This appears to be an ongoing irritation.”

If you happen to make the observation that he talks to himself like someone who spends a lot of time doing just that - well, you’re not wrong. Could be that he could use a different conversational partner!

network | audio; un: archivist

Statement of Jonathan Sims, The Archivist, regarding … wherever this is that I’ve ended up. Statement given direct, date unknown. Statement begins.

[it’s maybe a little abrupt, but hey, that’s how jon rolls. also? he thinks he’s making a private recording. oops. this little archivist really isn’t the best at using technology.

his voice is crisp and clear, with a sharp accent and a tone that suggests a bone-deep tiredness. he takes a deep breath and slowly exhales.]

I’ve been told that something called The Sphere is responsible for my … relocation. So far, it doesn’t seem to be related to any of the other Entities I’ve crossed paths with, but I suppose I can’t discount the idea entirely. At this point, I’m not even sure of what’s real. Perhaps despite our efforts, we failed to disrupt the Unknowing, and this is the … rather nonsensical outcome. Maybe this “Sphere” is somehow allied with The Vast, given the underwater location. Or maybe it’s simply just another kidnapping. [he exhales a dry chuckle that - once again - manages to convey a sense that he is very, very tired.] I’m no stranger to being kidnapped, of course, but this is a bit extreme. But it’s also one of the more … agreeable kidnappings I’ve experienced. No one seems to be outright threatening to kill me, at least.

[jon pauses, pondering whether he has any further thoughts to add. by the end of that short silence, he’s decided that he doesn’t.]

Statement ends, I suppose.

audio; un:jesus

[aparkourlypse]

I really don't think this scale of kidnapping could be considered simple. Humans are complex creatures, yet there don't seem to be animals of any kind inside the Sphere.

Jon Snow | Game of Thrones

[king_inthenorth]

[With a suitcase full of summertime]

There are so many things about this place that he's still getting used to: living underwater, the fact that it's not necessary to light something on fire to have light and warmth. Seasons other than winter, even. But the celebration of the arrival of summer isn't that different from something he might have attended in Westeros, if circumstances had been different. Wine and music and dancing are all things he understands.

His mood steadily improves through the course of the night, aided by revelry and wine. By the time the bonfire jumping comes around, he's positively jovial, although he does eye the bonfires warily and refuses to take part in jumping over one.

He'll just have more wine instead, to make up for all the celebrations in Winterfell that he didn't truly get to be part of.

[Baby you should see me]

At some point during the evening, he acquired a crown made of flowers, which now sits lopsidedly on his head. This is a crown he doesn't mind wearing, and it helps that it was offered to him by a pretty young woman. So there it stays, perched precariously. He's even in such a good mood that he cheers along with the crowd when another crown lands on another head.

[Wildcard]

Other options are welcome too. Maybe something with helping him figure out how all this strange modern technology works. Find me on plurk at siriuslydementd or just leave me something. I can work with it.

everything

[toivory]

[with that smile on his face, Sansa almost didn’t recognize him. But there are too few here that carry themselves the way that the Westerosi did. It’s his hair set against the flowers and the warm blaze of the fire that solidifies her belief that yes, this is Jon Snow.

A happier looking Jon, but Jon all the same.

With wine in her hand she waits for the perfect moment to settle herself in next to him.]

I thought you didn’t want the crown. [she teases him lightly]