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

There are no neighbors, actually. I'm in one of the dorms, but it's completely empty except for me. Well, and Baz and Penny. They're my crabs.

[And no, Simon didn't think anything of the fact that he'd named crabs after his friends. There was nothing wrong with missing people. And Aleister Crowley, he'd missed Baz. Simon grinned, and reached up to push a hand through Baz's hair; he was here, Simon didn't have to worry anymore, and yet...

It was always easier to keep an eye on Baz when they shared the same bedroom.]

Why don't you just come live in my dorm?

[Baz's brows rose as a disgusted sneer crossed his lips. Really Snow; a crab? Sometimes he wondered if Snow did these things to insult his dignity. But this was the man who admitted to not thinking, so it probably wasn't premeditated.]

You named a crab after me? What are you, a castaway? What's next, a volleyball with a face on it?

[They would address the living arrangements after he was finished being affronted.]

I missed you.

[That was all the protest Baz got out of Simon. That, and a barely-detectable pout. But he didn't back away; his arms stayed firmly around Baz's waist, and the second point of contention still hung in the air. Expectation always looked odd on Simon's face, not that he was ever particularly careful about what he expected, but--

For that matter, assumptions were more common than expectations, and that wasn't about to change.]

You wouldn't name a crab after me?

I'd name a bird.

[Annoying and a lot of work. Though really, a bird would suit Simon better than a crab. They both had wings and were probably insufferable to live with.]

Or turn something into a dog.

Not all of us have that luxury anymore, you know. And in case you hadn't noticed, this place is a bit short on birds.

[Really, Baz was asking for what came next. Simon huffed, and his arms tightened around Baz's waist, one hand moving to press between Baz's shoulderblades. That was all the warning he got before Simon suddenly twisted him back into the most gallant of dips. And then, another kiss, because if there was a more effective way to disarm Baz, Simon didn't know it.]

So is that a yes? You're coming to live with me? [Simon asked when they parted again, and a smile lingered at his lips.]

[There was the start of a protest before being silenced by the kiss.

Snow was far too good at this.]

Didn't we decide not to - when we left Watford?

[It wasn't that he didn't want to; he did, he just wanted to make sure Simon really wanted to do it.]

[Simon carefully straightened and righted Baz again. They had decided on that, back home. But this wasn't home. For all Simon knew, this was as far away from home as they could possibly get. And again, assumptions...]

It's enough like Watford, isn't it? The dorms and all. We could just as well have been placed as neighbors. Besides, wouldn't the Crucible want it that way?

[As if the Crucible could want anything. Excuses, excuses...]

But if... You know, if you'd rather your privacy, that's all right. Just gets a bit lonely there. Cold at night. So cold...

[His pleas of how cold it was made Baz laugh with a bit more self-deprecation than he'd meant to.]

Right, and having a fucking vampire there would warm you right up.

[Baz wasn't warm; in fact, he was the furthest thing from it. He was dead - or undead, or whatever the hell vampires were. Simon thought he was still alive, but fuck Simon's logic for the moment.

He knew how this would end: Simon would pout and that'd be the end of him. Baz would give in and move. Still, this was worth some actual discussion rather than jumping in because the new place was 'scary.'

Baz can't help letting out a heavy sigh.]

It's not that I don't want to, Simon. It's that I want to make sure we're doing this for the right reason; not because this whole thing is new and intimidating. And what if Bunce shows up?

[Baz was not a fan of the idea of getting tossed out on his ear the moment Simon's best friend showed up.]

[Baz said It's not that I don't want to, but his laughter was bitter, and that was the complete opposite of what Simon was going for. But he didn't care for the implication that Simon would suddenly want Baz gone if Penny showed up.]

What if she does? There are like ten beds, I'm fairly sure she can find somewhere to sleep even if you move in.

[And for the life of him, Simon can't wrap his head around why Baz is making such a Thing of this. It's not like they hadn't shared a room before, and living in a different dorm wasn't exactly going to afford him privacy. But -- Simon reminded himself firmly -- he didn't have to understand it, and Baz was allowed to have his own reasons for not wanting to live with him.

Even if they were stupid reasons.]

You can just say you don't want to, Baz. I won't be cross with you.

Crowley, Snow, I never said I didn't want to.

[Baz rolled his eyes and looked like they were going to fall out of their sockets.]

[Simon took that opportunity to prod gently at Baz's nose with his index finger. Boop.]

You certainly don't seem like you want to.

But it might be nice, you know. To have some privacy for once.

[The poke caused Baz to crinkle his nose. Snow was clearly trying to destroy any bit of dignity that Baz still had.]

Then we'll do it.

[It's an agreement, but he still didn't think Simon was really considering what it meant for them to live together.

Edited 2019-08-14 02:06 (UTC)

Do what?

[After putting up that much of a fight, Simon didn't honestly expect Baz to just give in. We'll do it was obviously a segue into the next qualm Baz was presenting for argument, and Simon fully intended to let him go on as long as he needed to, and continue reassuring him that it was okay for him to not want to.

And STILL, he's slowly dancing Baz around the clearing.]

I'll move into the same dorm as you.

[He wasn't sure how that wasn't clear. They'd only been talking about moving in together.]

And don't try to lead.

[Simon Snow still could not dance.]

Leading? This isn't leading. This isn't even dancing. This is rhythmic swaying.

[Simon Snow would continue to fail at dancing, as he failed at most things in his life, and there was nothing Baz could do about it. But small victories. He'd expected anything but agreement, and his face practically lit up at Baz's assent.]

Good. Glad I didn't have to tie you up and drag you there.

[Baz can't help laughing at Simon's stupidity. Trust Simon to find something new to be an idiot about. Like an idiot himself, though, Baz found even this irresistible.

Simon's comment about tying him up brought the palest of color to his face (A fear for a vampire). Still, he couldn't help raising his eyebrows and wiggling them.]

Didn't know you were into that sort of thing, Snow.

What sort of-- Oh.

[Simon went red a bit easier than Baz ever did. A consequence of his complexion, perhaps. But it painted a pretty picture either way, rosy beneath his freckles. He let out something like a scoff, tipping his head back in an attempt to hide the blush.]

I wouldn't know what I'm into. Outside of you, I mean. Jeans?

[The answer made Baz chuckle lightly. Trust the chosen one to have never thought about something like that. Baz, on the other hand, had taken pains to try not to think about what sort of things he wanted to do to Simon Snow. It never worked. There were a plethora of fetishes he'd like to try but wouldn't mention them unless Simon happened to indicate anything in that regard.

Simon would be the one to make that choice; he needed that, he was owed that; and Baz was determined to give him that by following his lead and not initiating anything - not yet at least. Not while things were still so messed up and Simon so broke inside.

Of course, things such as leaning in and kissing that target of a mole on the other man's neck was entirely fair game. Something which he took the time to do right now.]

Jeans?

Edited 2019-08-17 03:30 (UTC)

[Simon's head tipped back, and for possibly the millionth time, he questioned the wisdom of exposing his throat so readily to a vampire. And for the million-and-oneth time, he placed his trust unflinchingly in Baz, even as his face went an even deeper shade of red.

Jeans.]

Jeans. Yes. You look good in them.

[Better than good, but that admission would give Baz far too much ammunition, and he had a veritable stockpile simply by virtue of existing.]

I look good in everything.

[Baz knew he was right, he made sure he did. It was important for a Pitch to look stunning - or at least unforgettable. The fact that merely wearing jeans made the man he was head over heels for take acute notice of him, well, he'd have to invest in more jeans, wouldn't he?]

And jeans aren't a fetish, not like tying someone up.

[They probably were a fetish, but that wasn't the point. And if Simon was going to let him keep kissing him, he was going to take advantage of it and land another one across his jawline.]

I could tie you up with jeans. That's close enough.

[Close enough, and a very dangerous suggestion, particularly with Baz's lips still playing merry hell across his throat. Simon was just grateful he hadn't passed out from all the blood rushing to his face.]

Tell me why we're tying you up in anything, exactly?

You suggested it; not that I'd mind.

[Simon could do practically anything to Baz, and he'd gladly accept it. That was the amount of sway he had over him, and how deeply in love with Simon he is.

Really, it had been Simon's fault. If he'd know what a damn fetish was, then Baz wouldn't have to be explaining it right now. Maybe he should just bet him a book. It'd probably explain it better than he could.]

Sobering up yet?

Edited 2019-08-18 16:49 (UTC)

I've been sober, thank you. Perfectly so.

[That was a lie, but he wasn't arseholed either. Despite his lack of moderation in most things, he'd controlled himself rather well tonight, all things considered. Free booze was a hell of a temptation for anyone, let alone someone who was lonely and still wrestling the aftermath of some deep-seated trauma.

Or maybe Baz just found him before he'd managed to piss himself into oblivion.]

Though while we're on the subject, would you like a drink?

I've got a bottle of wine somewhere around here. And jumping over bonfires with a perfectly flammable tail isn't perfectly sober; unless you're just that stupid.

[Simon was 100% just that stupid, and Baz knew it.]

I think we both know I'm exactly that stupid.

[Baz could call it stupidity, but Simon was still having fun with it. If Simon didn't know better, he'd swear Baz was morally-opposed to fun in all its many and varied forms. But it wasn't worth pointing out and ruining the fun they were already having. He hadn't danced with Baz in ages; at least since last week.]

Don't make me dip you again, you abominable grouch.

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