spherememing | 001. Test Drive Meme.

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001. Test Drive Meme.

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Welcome, welcome, welcome.

The Council is well aware of how hard it is to get used to that whole ~~kidnapping~~ being brought to a new place you don’t understand is, and because of that, each month they host an open welcome party for all residents both old and new. The party and its theme and location vary by month, and November’s theme is funnily enough Thanksgiving. The location is in the market dome, and all of the stalls have been closed in favor of long, large and communal tables for sitting around and eating and talking. The Market dome is large, roughly three city blocks would fit comfortably inside of it. The stalls themselves are lined with bright lights, giving the activity within more of a carnival atmosphere than that of a normal shopping experience. Around you, the air hums almost, teaming with life and vibrancy among all sides. The way that the tables are seated encourages some intimacy despite the space, offering a large family sort of feeling versus something like a restaurant.

The people there are happy to see new people, that much is evident. People who one doesn’t know are greeted with smiles for the large part, and questions are eagerly answered, even if there is a slight ‘no one really knows’ vagueness to them. For the most part, of course. No city is ever a Utopia, and there are those who give newly arrived people flat looks, and answer questions with short and curt monotoned responses.

There are conversations happening at some parts of the table that aren’t meant for you to hear; they’re just whispered snippets of something about ‘Cruz doesn’t know what she wants.’ Or ‘Tearing is keeping it all under wraps of course, because that’s what she does.’ More common are grumbled complaints about ‘that bastard Tinder won’t stop just because…’ When they notice someone listening, they definitely glare at the listener. But whatever else, and however many secrets they may be keeping from the newcomers, the people complaining seem honest about it.

There’s a huge food table on one side that’s completely loaded with everything one could want. Turkey, and all of the fixings, including vegetarian and vegan options for those who would require them. (Though, someone leans over to mention, “the meat’s not really an animal anyway.”) The food is definitely sort of a potluck, given the variety of types of food in various sorts of serving dishes and states of presentation. Some of the foods include some weird stuff that looks terrible but is delicious. Probably. There are foods thee colors the likes of which only would be found on Earth if someone added an insane amount of food color to them.

Do try the grey stuff though. It’s delicious, ask the dishes. The blue milk? Less so.

However, food isn’t the only thing at the meeting. On the opposite side from the food, there are smaller tables set up with people sitting behind them. In front of the tables are homemade brightly colored signs that advertise things like jobs and clubs. The people and interests here in The Sphere are hugely varied and people are just so earnest to tell newcomers about them. They’re earnest to the point where they may just actually reach out and grab a person in order to force them to stop and to listen to whatever spiel they happen to be working on. Booths that are in attendance for jobs include: Agriculture: “help grow the food that feeds us all! Farming is life!”, The library: “No skill needed! We’ll teach you what you need to know!” The school system: “Teachers wanted! Education is the right of everyone!” Maintenance: “Help keep the domes clean!” As well as various restaurant booths looking for help for both servers and chefs.

For the hobbies involved they are even more varied. Book club: “we live in a multiverse, let’s read the books from it! With wine!” Garden club: “we want to grow stuff on our terms!” Sprinkled among are various skill learning clubs, among them: woodworking club, smithing, robotics, technology, first aid. It seems that despite the fact that no one is required to work in the City, people are still offering skills as needed.

As the night progresses, music starts, and there’s dancing and more adult fare. Liquor is broken out, of various sources from various worlds, including some that offer the Sphere’s own label on them. If discrete enough inquiries are made, a passcode to the Black Market hidden behind some of the stalls is offered. The entrance is hidden enough that someone needs to be looking for it, and there is a rather large bouncer guarding the door and asking for the proper passcode. The passcode of the day happens to be turnips.

Inside the black market is large, but much more dimly lit than the regular market dome that the welcome party was held inside of. There are various pockets of people clustered under bright neon lights. The lights, someone confides to you, are code for what they’re offering. And nearly everything is on offer if a person has the ability to make a trade. Things from home, character skills and even favors tend to be the currency here, but watch out: the hawkers within are shrewd and sharp. If they make a deal with someone, it’s nearly always going to favor them. Eventually.

There’s also a large and loud party happening inside. Think of a rave with a large amount of people who happened to be a bit out of their minds. Drugs aren’t given freely here, they’re too valuable, but should someone want to figure out what they’re rolling on, eventually someone will ask or offer. The drug that they are currently using is called ‘self’ and it’s something that affects your character in an intensely personal way. For some, it’s an experience like your favorite cocktail mixed with a vicodin, and for others it’s just like being drunk. For still more people, it’s like ecstasy without the side effects.

The drug has no physically addicting properties.

Welcome to my nightmare.
For anyone within the architecture dome, the library dome, the sunlight rec dome and any personal dome that people chose, around midnight people will have a curiously tired sensation. They just need to rest their eyes for a moment, or some may fall asleep for longer. No matter the length of time that the character is out, the nightmare infects them, and when they wake they will be filled with a curious but urgent sensation.

They have lost something. The loss can be a physical object, an emotion, a memory, a person or perhaps a sense of self. If the lost person is currently present in the game, they will be unable to be seen by the character who is experiencing the waking nightmare. Urgency will grip the character, because the longer the sensation goes on for, the worse it becomes. Characters can search and scrounge for their loss everywhere, but until the nightmare is over, they will not find whatever it is. Even if it is themselves. Instead, they may be frantic, angry, or just play old scared to death. They need to find this at whatever cost. Where they may find it is something that their own brains will settle on, but of course until the nightmare is over, they will not be able to.

The nightmare ends with either the character falling into a normal, restful sleep naturally or through some other means (someone might mention the infirmary has sedation medication just for the is purpose, or that there’s always a brick) or when they are woken with the intervention of someone else. The intervention of someone else is entirely up to you, and can come from a player character or a NPC, depending on how the player is feeling with the thread. By intervention we mean someone who is able to talk the person out of the nightmare, or to slap or shake them out, or to use some sort of trick that shows them that they are indeed inside of a nightmare. The knowledge that someone is affected by a nightmare must come from an external source, and should come from a character that your character would trust. After all, would you believe someone who told you that you were in a nightmare if you didn’t know that? That said, the best way to deal with waking someone is to remove them from the affected domes. Too bad you don’t know which domes are affected.

Harvest time

The Council hopes that you enjoyed the party the other night, because now it’s time to put out the call for volunteers to come in and help with replenishing the city’s stores from the fields and orchards in the agricultural domes. Your friend neighborhood councillor in charge, Annie Cruz has sent out a message that volunteers who come in to help out will be given payment in the form of lunch and beer and wine.

The jobs involved are varied, and involve harvesting crops such as corn, picking apples or grapes and handing out water or the boxed lunches provided. People will be assigned an area and given a bucket or basket in order to put the fruits of their labor inside of. Either way, there’s a festive atmosphere, and most people who have been there longer than your character seem to be old hat at this.

There’s even a large tub of grapes for people to smash with their feet (“but for fuck’s sake make sure they’re clean first!”). If asked about it, someone will explain that the city makes its own wine and brews its own beer every season! A good chunk of the things picked, you are told slyly, will probably end up drunk rather than eaten, “once the off the top happens.” If asked to explain it, a character will just touch their nose slyly and not say any more. It’s also explained that the grapes crushed with people’s feet don’t actually end up in the general bottles of wine: they’re not savages here!

So, jump in and help with something, or sit down and have lunch and just get to know the people around you with a glass of wine or beer. You’re all here for the foreseeable future, might as well!

Network!

In the Sphere, the network is neural, and accessed via touching the glowing golden circle behind your character’s ear. They can identify themselves with a screen name if you so desire, but messages should be one of three ways or a combination of them. 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.

Wildcard!
This can be meeting a possible roommate or dorm mate (if one is choosing to go that route), the use of a communal kitchen, waking up and dealing with the things that you were just told about the City, yelling at the sphere, or anything else that your little heart desires. Go nuts.

OOC note: if you feel that something requires an NPC interaction, please go to here and reply with a link and a brief summary of why you need it and the mod will try and be accomodating.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Welcome.

So, they were kidnapped. Again, but this time they weren't in Seattle any more. Granted, they weren't going to be in Seattle in the morning either, but at least then they would have had some sort of choice in the matter. Being here wasn't a choice, but if nothing else it meant that they needed to chose how they accepted it or not. Alex was accepting of it; they were here and there was nothing else to be done about it. So, she'd gone to the welcome dinner that had been put on. She couldn't not, not with all of the questions that she had swirling around in her brain about this place and what she had been told of the Sphere.

But right now, the best resource that Alex could find was people, so she was wandering around the tables that were set up for jobs and clubs. One of the first places that she'd found was the coffee cart and she was relieved; a place without coffee was something that would have been enough to send her back to her pod with her blanket over her head. Satiated and on the second overly large paper cup, Alex's normally smiling face was fixed into a rather large frown, and her eyes were wide in disbelief as she just commented to the person who was next to her in her radio ready, very Canadian voice: "okay, but how can there really not be any sort of news network here?! How do people stay informed?!"

Nightmare

Alex Reagan wasn't unused to dozing off for a few minutes in her chair at work, or on the sofa at Strand's or most anywhere she was. Randomly catching sleep where you could tended to go hand and hand with insomnia, and Alex's had been chasing her for almost three years now. So, when she'd fallen asleep sitting in the library dome, reading about the history of some of the people here, she wasn't exactly surprised. Not even by the sensation of the red crease that the spine of the book had left on her normally pale cheeks.

But then something tugged at her, and her dark eyes went wide in their terror behind the rims of her glasses. Fingers randomly patted down her pockets, the gesture becoming more frantic as she reached out for the heavy bag that she always carried that had been on her pod when she'd woken up. After a loud series of shuffling noises (too loud for a library, no doubt) her desperation reached a peak, and she just dumped the bag out on the table that she'd been sitting at. Her recorder and phone hit the wood with a large thunk, followed by the softer ones of various pens and notebooks hitting and rolling away and onto the wooden floor.

"Oh my god," the words were soft at first, practically all sighed together, and then they came once more with desperation. "Oh my god. Hey. Sorry to bother you but have you seen..." She left the sentence hanging for a moment, her hands stretching and forming a vague shape in the air between them. "I mean, it has to be here, right? It has to!"

Network: Audio. UN AlexReaganradio

[Due to the fact that Alex Reagan is a podcaster by nature and trade, her network posts are going to tend to default to being audio. Like this one. She sounds sharp and curious, and very Canadian. Yeah, "aboots"are a thing. Yes, she's heard it before.]

Hi, I'm Alex Reagan, and I'm obviously new here. I know that there's not been any sort of formal news source for... Well, a while I suppose? And I'm wondering if that would be something that people are interested in. I'm a reporter back home, so it just seems like a natural sort of fit.

If you are interested, what sort of stories would you want us to cover? Are there any that interest you more than others?

[Bear with him, Alex. He's not used to thinking thoughts into audio, but somehow it works.]

I don't even know where we'd think of starting. Are you thinking of running a news show or a paper?

I'd probably do an audio show. I have a podcast back home, so it's easiest for me, I think. I just can't believe there's not one already.

...a podcast, or a news outlet in general?

A news outlet, honestly. I know podcasts are a new concept for a lot of people. You won't believe how many times I've had to explain what they were when doing things around the show.

They've been around for a few years, I think. A few people I used to work with listened to the pretty regularly, anyway.

It's...disconcerting these people don't have a ready source of news, though. That's...usually a sign of a ruling body who wants to hide things. If you need a hand with anything, let me know. It's...been a while, but I used to work in politics in D.C.

Yeah, it's never a good sign that they don't even have an official sort of person who covers the council even. I asked one man, Max Tinder about it, and he said that 'everyone who cares shows up' which seems really suspect.

How did you work in politics?

Yeah? I guess that means we will be, too, unless I'm not reading the room correctly.

[Because he cares, and it's pretty clear Alex does, too.]

I was a lobbyist for reusable resources. Assistant, nothing spectacular. I decided pretty early on in my career I wanted something more rewarding, where I actually made a difference instead of taking some guy's money and lining another guy's pockets without getting anything real done, but I know how politics work.

Yep, of course we will. I mean, how can we not when there's not even a mention of anyone doing it on the network? It doesn't make sense. We can't be the only people who ever asked about it.

That's a good cause to be working on though.

Maybe they did and it just didn't work out for them.

[A beat.]

That was a bad joke. Ignore that.

[And he chuckles, a little bashful.]

Too bad not enough people listened. I went to work for a NGO instead. I got to see a lot of nasty things men are capable of, but I also worked with some of the most giving and selfless people I've ever met.

[Of course, none of that matters now.]

[You know who else loves to make bad jokes? This woman right here. So, she's just going to laugh along to and concern him her new best friend. That works, right? Good.]

What did the NGO specialize in? Was it on the same energy thing?

[A beat, and Alex can't help but ask:]

It wasn't Daeva Corp, was it?

Uh...no. We facilitated the distribution of safe drinking water to parts of the Niger River Delta and Liberia with UNICEF.

[A beat.]

I've never even heard of Daeva Corp. Who are they?

Alex Reagan | The Black Tapes Podcast | OTA

Network; UN justaaron

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Nightmare

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network; un: l.dectus

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Welcome