spherememing | June/July Test Drive Meme

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June/July Test Drive Meme

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

Memory shares are experienced over the networked, and beamed directly into the other person's brains as if they are experiencing it themselves.
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.
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.
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:

Audio. Your character thinks audible words onto the network.
Writing: Your character thinks text into the network.
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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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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?

Edited 2019-07-25 19:48 (UTC)

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."

EVA alerted him to the presence of a mutant too late, her sensors only picking up Tommy's presence after he'd come to a stop. Damned speedsters. Already being in a bad mood due to all the occult nonsense surrounding them, he narrowed his eyes further at this new arrival, tilting his head to the side as he regarded the boy. The face was familiar, the uniform as well, and the hair? Unmistakable.

"Speed, correct? The Young Avenger?"

Holy fuck! Tommy's left staring at the stranger. Not once since coming here has Tommy been recognized. It's like all the others from worlds like his are all from the exact same one. Okay, well, there was the one other Young Avenger, but that's something else. Someone calling him Speed is just... Wow.

"What, you want an autograph? Can totally give you one."

And, unlike his twin or his twin's boyfriend, Tommy doesn't much bother to keep up with who all is and isn't in or around the heroing community. But damn if he isn't grinning. He's been recognized and that is fucking awesome.

He arches an eyebrow at at Tommy's offer for just a moment before shaking his head. That was what was wrong with the Avengers, after all. Celebrity. He was actually surprised the Sentinel project had never been used to eliminate them. Oh, right. One of them designed them. Still, Tommy wasn't responsible, and if nothing else, he was amusing.

"I'll pass. Now, if you could introduce me to Wiccan, I might be interested, or an actual Avenger. Ah, but wait. I work with one." His smile is evident through his mask. "I am Fantomex, though I'm unsurprised you've not heard of me. You're welcome to tag along, but only with the knowledge whatever we find I deem valuable is mine."

Tommy isn't exactly the usual Avenger. Or maybe he is. Like he'd know one way or another. But he'd be glad to know that, if nothing else, he amused.

Still, the suggestion that someone would want introduced to Billy over him? That isn't cool. Earns a sour look. At least for a moment, at least until there's half a moment of thought. Threat to Billy? Oh hell no, there have been more than enough of those, and he's definitely not allowing it.

"I'm an actual Avenger," Tommy dismisses with a bit of anger in his tone. "And Fantabucks, I'm not tagging with anyone. If anything you can tag along with me. But what I want you'd have trouble keeping from me. You've heard of me, so you know I can take what I want and go."

Whoever this guy is, he's not safe for Billy, and even without Billy here, Tommy does not trust him.

He certainly did, if the information on his was correct, but Fantomex maintained an air of careful indifference, if not slight amusement, at Tommy's response. He even laughed a little, and it was mostly genuine. The thought of actually trying to harm either of those Avengers was ridiculous. He had no reason to. Tommy and Billy were by no means a threat, at least not on the scale that histeam dealt with.

But he couldn't very well mention any of that. Clandestine hit squad and all.

"So I've heard, young Speed. C’est ce que c’est, as they say." Though he is getting the impression the young Avenger doesn't know him, which is good news. Infamy has its uses, but not in confined quarters. "I don't mean to say Wiccan is any better in a pinch than you, of course, but he is a witch. I believe there to be...magic afoot." And at the last, he looks as though he's smelled something foul.

As they say? Who says? Is that French? Tommy doesn't know about French.

"If there was magic afoot, Billy would have pierced it by now to recover me. But he's not done that. So I'm on tech."

He rolls his shoulders in a brief shrug and then starts down the hall, ready to do what he must to get moving. They might find something cool.

There wasn't any sort of technological obstacle that could rear it's head that Fantomex couldn't overcome, at least in his own mind. Magic, though, was alien, it didn't follow the rules of science. It was wrong and needed to be avoided if at all possible...but the lust of discovery ~~and things of value~~ was difficult to ignore, and so he followed. He didn't like the sounds of scraping bone he was hearing.

"Billy's here?" He knew he wasn't, of course, having cataloged the network already, but it would be interesting to see if Tommy maintained the ruse.

"I didn't say that," Tommy rolls his eyes. "I'm saying it if WAS magic, he would have gotten me, because he'd break through it. From the other side and all that."

Geez, keep up man. Ya know, even though it's physically impossible. And like Tommy would ever admit to unintentionally misleading something. As for the sounds, well, Tommy takes them without so much as flinching. Why should he? He's faster than most things, he'll leave this dude to be a distracting bit of bait.

"Ah. Then I suppose it is a shame he isn't around." Or Elizabeth. At least she would have understood what was going on. Fantomex's ability to read body language, coupled with his own experiences in life afforded he would never really trust this boy, at least not at the moment. Tommy was unconcerned with whoever else might be 'tagging along', and Jean-Phillipe was just fine with that arrangement. If Tommy ended up in a spot himself, Fantomex likely wouldn't be saving him, unless it was beneficial to both of them.

Tommy might be a mutant, but he'd chosen his side. That was all well and good, Fantomex supposed. At least they understood each other. "Why do you suppose someone cursed this place? It seems like an odd habit for an underwater facility, wouldn't you agree?"

Wow, not saving a kid? What an ass. Not that Tommy needs saving. He does keep going, though, walking forward in a bored sort of way. He has to go slow because wow, snails are just frustrating.

"Because people curse all sorts of things. Necklaces. People. Dogs. Why not a place?"

"Would it not make more sense to curse a place for a reason? Perhaps they're hiding something they don't wish to be found."

Oh, he would likely save Tommy if he actually needed it, but this was a Young Avenger, and fully capable of taking care of himself. They were held responsible for field missions, were they not?

"I don't magic, man, I don't really have explanations for this. I just know I got sorta bored, and this place is new."

It's hard to be entertained when it's so easy to explore the entirety of a place. He sighs and glares at the walls. "I don't like places like this. Feel too cramped. A lot worse than the rest of this place. Feels smaller."

"The speedster is claustrophobic. Worthy of note." It's spoken as though he's keeping a tally, but he nods in the boy's direction.

"I don't count magic among my specialties, either, but have you ever encountered the like before?"

Fantomex | Marvel 616

Exploration

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iii un: psylocke

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