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'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.

I'm hardly a grouch.

[Another eye roll made itself known. How exactly was he a grouch by thinking it was better to enjoy oneself sober, and not drunkenly leaping over open flames.]

What's with the flowers? You trying out for a role in 'Midsummer Night's Dream' or something?

They match my eyes, don't you think? You'd make a better fairy, in any case. I'm not graceful enough for wings.

Wait...

[Simon froze, and visibly cringed at himself.]

Don't-- Just forget I said that.

[Baz let his hand rest against Simon's cheek. Self-deprecation never looked good on the other man, and if Baz could help it, he'd do his best to push that particular demon away.]

You look fantastic in wings; quite the turn on if you ask me.

Are they?

[Simon looked rather pleased with that revelation. His chest even puffed out a bit. He'd only ever thought of them as ridiculous, certainly not sexy. But if Baz thought so, who was Simon to argue]

Well, in that case, I'll have to wear them more often, won't I?

[Baz reached down and tugged on Simon's tail.]

You always wear them, idiot.

Baz.

[Simon tilted his head to catch Baz's lips again, and this time, he didn't let Baz go for a long while. The wisdom of snogging on a lawn in the middle of a festival? They'd worry about it later, if anything even came of it in the first place.]

I'm your idiot. [Simon's tone was teasing when he finally let Baz breathe again.] Don't forget. You chose me.

[If he wanted to, Baz could have pretended that Simon's reaction wasn't the best thing he'd seen the whole time they'd been there, but he didn't want to bother with that. Instead, when Simon pulled back, Baz had a wry smirk.]

I did.

[He leaned in, kissing the other man again.]

Any problem with it?

Couldn't begin to find one if I tried.

[Simon planted another kiss to Baz's nose, then leaned back to briefly survey the ground around them.]

Now then, you were saying something about wine?

[Baz's nose wrinkled at the kiss. If that were going to be a habit, then he'd have to get used it (but it would kill a little of his dignity every time.)]

Only one glass though, I didn't expect company.

[Not that he was unhappy with finding Simon here. He was, in fact, delighted to see him here. This way, he didn't have to worry about what was going to happen at home.]

One of us can take the bottle.

[It was a brilliant suggestion, but Simon's feet elected that moment to not cooperate with his tipsy state.

Let alone the fact that it should be impossible to fall in slow motion, Simon somehow managed to defy all physical laws, and do just that. Or at least, he seemed to. He stumbled, clung fruitlessly to Baz's waist as he struggled -- failed -- to find his balance again, and ended up an ungainly pile at the man's feet instead.]

...I think it should be you.

[Baz went down with him, carefully doing his best to cushion the other man's body as he fell. Once Simon had fully crumpled, Baz smoothed the curls in his hair and frowned down at him. Trust Simon not to be able to drink without getting completely drunk.]

How about we lay down and look at these fake stars instead?

[He could cap and collect the wine for later use.]

Fine idea, Baz.

[Simon tugged Baz down to the grass, tucking himself against the man's side. Baz always ran cool; it's a vampire thing if Simon had to guess. One arm and one leg moved to drape over Baz's waist, tugging him close. But star-watching was difficult when one couldn't lay on one's back due to two very large and unweildy wings, and Baz's neck was right there, so...

Picking little kisses across Baz's shoulder, then his throat, then his cheek, and back again; a far better use of Simon's time than watching some silly fake stars.[

[Simon was being completely unfair. Completely. Simon was also drunk, and as much as Baz wanted this, he didn't want it like this - not while Simon was completely drunk.

He sat himself up against the grass, body facing Simon.]

Snow, you're drunk.

Not terribly.

[And he didn't feel he was, all things considered. Perhaps a vertical state was something of a challenge, but his head felt clear enough, and he wasn't slurring his words. Baz had certainly seen worse from him over the years. Simon carefully propped himself up on his elbow, and tentatively reached for Baz's hand.]

I was only kissing you. I'm sorry I didn't ask if that was all right. I'll stop.

[Simon's tone was very reasonable, albeit a very tiny bit melancholy. It was hard for the insecurities to creep in around inebriation, but they were starting to, and that wasn't fair to Baz. He shouldn't feel obligated to anything on account of Simon's poor self image.]

[There was no hesitation in Baz's taking of Simon's hand. His fingers curled around the other man's as he brought their joined hands to his lips, kissing Simon's as Simon had done his.]

You don't have to ask Simon.

[If Baz still had his own blood circulating through his body he would have blushed a dark read, against his own dark complexion. Bsz, however, was a vampire, and his complexion had turned from dark to grey. The blood that was in his body flushed the grey of his cheek.]

It was just a bit, overstimulating.

[He didn't want to push Simon with his own longing for the other man, Crowley knew Simon had enough issues. Baz did too, but they weren't nearly the same, nor as deep. Simon had killed the only father figure he'd had, he'd learned that the greatest threat to magic had been a piece of him, and he'd sacrificed his magic to stop it. Baz could never understand how that felt and wanted to be as supportive of Simon as he could be. To take things as slowly as Simon needed.]

What do you mean over- Oh. Oh.

[Simon's own cheeks went rosy, though who could really say whether that was bashfulness or the alcohol? Probably a bit of both if Simon had to guess, but he didn't notice it in the wake of the realization that Baz was-- Struggling, for lack of a better word. Struggling because of Simon's carelessness. And the vicious, stupid part of Simon wanted to push a little more, wind Baz up, see what would happen. But more than that...

More than that, he just wanted Baz to be happy, and those kisses didn't seem to make him happy.]

Sorry, I didn't mean to-- I don't want you to be uncomfortable.

[Baz sighed in frustration.]

I've been in love with you for seven years, nothing about being with you like this is uncomfortable.

[He leaned forward, lightly kissing Simon again.]

[More kisses. Simon could get used to this. If all they did in this place was lie around looking at stars and kissing, this wouldn't be such a terrible deal.]

I love you too. [He said quietly when Baz drew away again, a small smile on his lips. He'd only just gotten comfortable saying it, and something about I love yous still felt novelty.]

[Baz let Simon's words wash over him. He loved him. Simon Snow loved him. It was something he never expected to hear - ever. Hate, he was used to. Simon used to always say he hated him, love, however, was more than he could ever hope for.

He leaned in, kissing Simon deeply.]

You don't have to feel self-conscious around me, Simon, I've seen you at you most stupid already.

[If some of the absolutely idiotic things the other man had done hadn't changed his feelings, nothing would/]

[Simon snorted, and nuzzled his forehead against Baz's.]

I don't feel self-conscious around you. Just still trying to navigate all this, figure out what you like and what's all right to do.

What is all right to do?

[That might have been established from the get-go, but... Well.]

Can't think of anything that wouldn't be alright.

[And if there was, he'd tell him.]

Can't think of anything? [Simon said with a lopsided grin.] I'll have to keep that in mind.

[And really, that DOES give him quite a lot to mull over.]

Have you seen those beds yet, by the way? They're odd, in the floor like that. I can't fit my wings in comfortably, so I just end up on my stomach with my wings splayed out on the floor. I'll asphyxiate on my pillows someday.

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