thespherelogs | Just Hangin' Around

Apprehension had kept Thomas 'home' since his arrival. His presence could have adverse effects on people at times, and with so few people dwelling in the Sphere, he thought it best. Justine, however, had proven capable yet again, and with how well-fed he was, going out was much less of a burden, and he was in need of gear if he was going to go anywhere near the abandoned domes to see what they had to show for themselves. He's dressed casually today, dark jeans and a form-fitting white t-shirt, his long black curls pulled back into a tight tail. The one indication he might be a bit quirky are the light orange lensed sunglasses he's wearing.

He makes his way first to the stalls where the blacksmiths sell their wares, testing the balance of various knives and short swords, seemingly unable to decide on one. It's been a while since he's had to shop this way for weapons and maybe he's just out of practice.

He spends a considerable amount of time at the various food stores, with an incredibly detailed list in hand. He gets stumped particularly long by all the diverse types of olive oil looking particularly distraught. If someone happens close enough to him, he glances their way furtively. Help him?

Later, he decides to have a trip to the library he'd been recommended by more than one person to see if this place really is as creepy as everyone claims it is. Exactly whose lives are documented here, exactly? It seems innocuous enough, this library, but he still makes his way over to the counter, smiling charmingly at the librarian behind the desk whose cheeks pinken with an admittedly pretty blush as he leans casually against the counter.

"Hey beautiful. Can you do me a favor and let me know if you've got The Sphere by Michael Creighton?" She stares at him, eyes slightly unfocused, for a moment before he reaches out and taps the edge of her monitor. Clearing her throat, the clearly flustered girl goes to her keyboard, taps a few keys, and shakes her head.

"I'm afraid not, I'm sorry." She stands, though, heading toward the swinging gate that separates her administration desk from the rest of the library. "I'd be happy to show you anything else we have, though." Thomas is already shaking his head.

"No, that won't be necessary, thanks." She doesn't seem to be stopping, though.

After acquiring a weapon, paltry as it is, Thomas makes his way to the Abandoned domes to see what he might find there. He makes his way into one far removed from the occupied domes, willing the Hunger to lend him some of its power. His eyes go from deep, storm cloud gray to silver and his skin begins to shine with a faint pale radiance and a faint chill seems to grow around him, one that inspires ideas of snuggling next to a fire for warmth. Normally he wouldn't have used his demon so openly, but then again, he doesn't realize he isn't alone. He jams the blade of his newly acquired bowie knife into the seam of the door, using his enhanced strength to pry the door open.

Two even breaths and his eyes return to normal as he steps into the gloom of the dome he's opened, ready to see what the interior might hold for him. Hopefully, the difficulty in opening the door means this one's untouched.

If someone steps in behind him, he turns suddenly, readying his knife with a degree of skill that suggests he fights with one often, but he relaxes when he sees its not, in fact, a monster trying to jump him.

"Try not to sneak up on a guy. It's bad for my heart."

He'd promised a guy coffee, and he had to admit, he was really jonesing for a Starbucks. Would they have a Starbucks? It was time to find out. He headed down to the merchant dome via the tram which, he had to admit, was sort of cool. In fact, the more he saw of this place, the weirder and more awesome it got.

With a pang of homesickness, he thought of how much Hell Harry's magic would play on the place but shook his head to clear his thoughts. He was wearing a black leather jacket over a gray t-shirt that read "Surely Not Everyone was Kung-Fu Fighting", black jeans and combat boots. His hair was pulled back in a tight tail, the curling ends bouncing ever so slightly as he made his way into the cafe and then he thought off a text to Baz.

Told you I'd find it.

It'd taken Thomas a long time at the library to find a recipe he actually thought he could pull off. He only hoped he'd get the majority of it finished before Justine came back. As it stood, he was cooking in jeans and a loose tank top, because it was actually a lot more work than it looked.

The pasta was boiling and he was chopping garlic, music playing, while he vibed along.

Justine returns with a small collection of books, candles, and other small nicknacks to decorate their new place with. They don't need too and it might not be good to get attached to their newfound privacy but she can't help but celebrate in her own way by adding a touch of personality to the otherwise dreary living space.

The rich scent of garlic fills her nose as she steps into the dome, a slight smile playing across her lovely pale lips. "You're cooking?" She didn't mean to sound surprised but she was. This wasn't something either of them had a lot of experience with.

Her smile widened. "Good song choice." She often hid her interests and let them mold to whomever she was talking to but Thomas knew her and Justine knew she could voice her honest opinion in his company.

Baz just raises his hand from the booth he's in. It's rare for him to get out under the guise of willingly meeting someone new. Usually, it's just to annoy Tommy (a new favored past time of his). For his part, Baz is wearing a tshirt under a suit coat, tight black jeans and a pair of dress shoes.

Looking over Thomas, it's clear that the man is fucking gorgeous - even by Baz's standards. He'd probably even be Baz's type (let's face it, guys like Thomas were clearly everyone's type) if he weren't head over heels in love with his moronic boyfriend. He made a mental note to try not to let Simon and Thomas be in the same room. Looks like that could cause some big problems without even trying to. Not that he thought Simon would go for it ... it was just best to be cautious.

"Followed your nose, did you?" He let a brow raise nonchalantly as he gestured to the seat across from him.

Well, there was that plan ruined, but he wasn't angry as he looked over his shoulder briefly toward her, nodding.

"Yeah. I know I don't back home often, but I used to feed myself you know." He nodded toward the stereo. "It's new Train. Apparently they're still making music after our time." He threw the garlic into some waiting olive oil and tossed it gently. "What do you have there?"

Yeah, he gets that a lot. Multitasking, he ordered a coffee, mocha, before joining Baz at the table. Normally, when he got within distance of people, the Hunger began to reach out to them, to whisper things to him about what they might desire, things that would make it easier for the Hunger to feed. What the Hunger told him about Baz was something completely different. It didn't know what he was, but there was nothing there to sip.

He felt almost like a Black, soulless, undead. At least he wasn't rotting. Either he was fresh from an entirely different mythology. Actually, Thomas would have put his credits on that one.

Grinning casually, he slide into the booth across from Baz as a hand slides into a glove, sinuous and languid. "The scent of good espresso travels far, my friend."

A frequent patron of the library, Llewellyn had a decent view of the exchange between Thomas and the librarian. At least he would if he looked up from the book he was currently reading. The man had a small stack of books that he was sorting through at one of the tables that was set up by the entrance, rocking the chair slightly on it’s back legs absentmindedly as he leafed through the pages of one book.

The voices did register on the edge of his attention, and while both were familiar there was something about the man’s voice that dragged his attention from the pages in front of him. He’d heard it fairly recently, at least Llewellyn thought he had. His memory was like that, sometimes it was spotty. Setting the book on the table, he let his chair finally rest it’s legs back on the floor completely with an audible thump as he leaned forward to squint across the room at the other two.

Funny, she was helpful but not usually that insistent. It did make a little more sense when he studied the other person. The guy was definitely attractive, and her insistence to help definitely suggested an interest on her part. Moving past his initial distraction, he focused a little more on the guy. Oh! That’s right... He had spoken to him back when he arrived.

Well, Llewellyn doesn’t have a problem interrupting considering Thomas had tried to dissuade her from trying to accompany him through the library in the first place. Thomas had been his name though... right? “Uh— Thomas? Seems like you found your way to the library after all, afraid I never found anything like that book you mentioned. Mm... it seems that you already know that now though.”

Thomas, however, was welcome for the distraction and smiled in Llewellen's direction before extricating himself from the librarian. "Thanks for the help, miss, but I seem to have found my friend. You have a good day, alright?"

She pouted, but went back to her tasks, which allowed Thomas to wander over in Llewellen's direction. "Yeah, I noticed...you know, I think I've only ever you called Detective. Should I call you Dick or do you prefer something else?"

Things Beverly Marsh has definitely gotten used to over the last year: other people coming into the abandoned domes and going searching for things. For the most part, Bev doesn't feel the need to do it anymore, but still the Domes are one of the few places where she can feel like she can be alone here. And right now, she's just been really wanting to be alone and think. Things that Beverly definitely is not used to? Is the way that the air around her goes cold.

With the fact that there was just the nightmare around them, Bev thought it was that's what it was until there was the prying of a door that she'd been trying to get open for months.

Her not caring about searching domes for the most part doesn't include one that she'd been trying to get into.

But she doesn't know this guy. She doesn't know this guy and he just pried the door open, so he's strong. While Bev doesn't pull her sword on him, she does remove it from the sheath that it's in, and she keeps it loose at her side. You know, just in case. Which is probably a good thing, because Beverly just goes into a defensive stance and raises her sword in response. "Try not to pull a knife on a kid, it's bad for something else."

Sneaking is an unfortunate side effect of, well, being Tommy. There's no getting around that point. Except read sneaking as 'moving too fast to be reasonable' and no getting around that point as 'he just doesn't want to change. Which is why there is, just suddenly, Tommy behind him. A Tommy offering a brief bit of applause because WOW someone noticed his approach. That's hard.

Or maybe Thomas just noticed the displeased noise that came from Speedy in the bag at Tommy's side. Sometimes the sloth like to make his annoyance at full speed running known.

"I try, but people just keep not noticing me until it's too late."

Ah, that’s right. He’d never properly introduced himself. It seemed that his manners, such as they were, had slipped his memory. With a rather surprised expression, he spoke up with a little slightly embarrassed smile. “Oh right— Must have slipped my mind... I’m Llewellyn Watts, but I admit that most people just call me Watts. Of course, you can call me whatever you like?”

He got up from the table at that, offering a hand to shake, hoping to make up for his prior lack of manners. Admittedly the detective didn’t normally care about that unless someone made him, apparently today was some kind of strange exception he couldn’t explain.

"Did you?" She placed the bag she was carrying on the small kitchen table and began to unpack it. "Just some odds & ends. I thought that the place should have a bit more personality. If we're to stay here. I also found some interesting books at the store." Justine had three books that she'd found. One looks like a children's book, the other a small textbook and the final one a romance novel. She has a few other figures and pretty things, that boarder between nerdy and cute.

"I like this song." Justine agrees with a gentle smile. "What are you making?" She'd off her help though she didn't know how much help she would be aside from an extra pair of hands.

He visibly relaxes when he sees who's standing there. Sure, she has a sword, but he's faster than most people (with a few exceptions) that might surprise him. He lowers his knife, sliding it into its sheath at his belt. "Maybe, but it's unlikely."

He looks to her weapon expectantly then back to her. "Want to try again with less sneaking around? I'm Thomas."

"It's more than that. You weren't there two seconds ago." His eyes move slightly to look at the pack that clearly made a sound for a moment before looking back to Tommy, sliding the knife back into its sheath at his waist.

"That's not a bad skill to have, as long as we're on the same side."

"You're not wrong," Tommy agrees, walking past the other man to start strolling around the ruins.

While he walked his hand went to his bag, reaching in to stroke the baby sloth within, without uncovering the flap. Sometimes you get good at things like that.

"Who said I'm on a side."

Thomas smiled charmingly in response as Llewellyn rose, though he didn't smile charmingly on purpose, it was just something that happened naturally whenever he smiled at all, and took the offered hand with a nod. "Nice to meet you, Watts."

The Hunger surged beneath his skin as their palms touched, whispering Watts' closer secrets and desires to him, as it always did, which he pointedly ignored.

"So...if someone was going to have a look around to see if they're a figment of someone's imagination, how would they start?"

"Occasionally." He realized it wasn't regularly, or in any way that was useful. He glanced over the things she'd unpacked before he went back to cooking. "What books?"

He shook his head. "Nothing fancy, just some pasta with vegetables and garlic. Admittedly, I would probably burn anything more complicated."

The sword that’s pointed at him stays even after he puts his knife away and when he chides her for doing what Beverly had been doing, she lowers it with a defensive scowl that she can’t help.

“I wasn’t sneaking! I’m out here all the time!” There’s the bark of a golden retriever as he senses her distress but prances around outside of the dome. Bev has trained him not to go into any of them unless she calls him.

There’s dangerous things in them and she doesn’t want Thor to get hurt.

“Who the hell are you and why are you drawing knives on people?”

"A children's book about a local legend. A textbook about economics and a romance novel called 'the red rose'." She gently placed the books on the table for Thomas to glance at while he cooked.

She tossed the bag she'd used in the trash and began to place some of the knickknacks and small statues around their shared living space. When she was finished, she placed the three books on the bookshelf.

"That sounds delicious. Perhaps I should learn to cook too." She walked over to him but she didn't let her hair or skin touch him. Instead it was the light brush of her covered elbow against his arm and the slight pressure of her hip brushing against his side. "I've always wanted to learn."

“Oh... uh— nice to meet you in person, Thomas.” He responded, with something of a clumsy smile before he drew back a reasonable distance. Resuming his usual slouch as he looked around the library with some distraction. Really, he knew he could feel awkward around people in general, but this was a weird case.

That puzzle ignored in favour of answering questions though, “Well! I think that would depend. Do you suppose the library would sort them into the biographies for those who are here or fiction?” That might have been a joke, or he might have been entirely serious.

Admittedly, Thomas was curious about the strange sounds coming from that backpack. He'd never heard a creature like that, but in a world connected to so many different ones, that shouldn't come as a surprise.

"We were all brought here against our wills and everybody seems to have been inoculated by it. If you're not on a side, I'd question your intelligence."

"And? Sneaking around the domes or not, you did sneak up on me, and that was my point." His eyes darted toward the sound of the barking but didn't ask. Okay, so she had a dog. She wasn't the first kid to ever have a faithful sidekick, but she might be the first to leave it behind when it would be useful, to find predators for instance.

"I could ask you the same question, though the sword might be overcompensating."

He did glance at the books briefly, the childrens' book getting the most attention. "A local legend? Like...here?" That in itself told Thomas a great deal about the Sphere, and suggested the people here had been trapped here for a very long time.

He smiled over his shoulder at her, though and nodded his head in her direction.

"Come over here. I'll show you what I'm doing, but I can't promise it's very impressive."

Thomas knew the look, had been subjected to it by nearly everyone he passed any time he left his apartment both back home or here. He didn't comment on Watts' awkwardness, but instead commended the guy for being able to push past it.

"So he can crack jokes!" It was said in jest, going along with Watts' own desire to pretend nothing strange had happened. "Well, if it's a book about me, I'm the only one who wouldn't think it was fiction, right, since I'm not from around here."

He grinned, more genuinely this time. There’s something about pulling off a joke that is always pleasant, this had nothing to do with Thomas. He was just genuinely known to be bad at it, and Murdoch would have absolutely given him a confused look for the attempt. The harassed and sometime grieved expression the man gave him occasionally was still worth it most of the time, but acknowledgement of the joke being successful was still great. “Once in a while I do manage.”

“You’re right though, and unfortunately I only know that I’ve never heard your name in any book I’ve read before? So I um... couldn’t suggest what author to look for on the shelves.” Which was going to make it a little more challenging, but he certainly hadn’t expected it to be easy anyway. “So we’ll have to look for something that sticks out to you in the titles?”

Yeah, Tommy's used to his intelligence being questioned. More than used to it. He doesn't even get mad. Instead he's ten paces past Thomas in less the blink of an eye, and looking back at him.

"The Sphere brought us here. We know it's trying to get us back because we've had to deal with some of the bullshit that happened when it misfired in trying to send us home. And frankly? Some of us are happy."

He has a mother. He has a family and friends that don't let them down. He has Speedy. And speaking of the sloth, he lifts the little guy, who is getting noisier, from the bag and holds the sloth against his arm. And of course the little guy clings on gamely as Tommy hauls a tupperware out of his bag and opens it.

"Carrot stick?" he offers Thomas, even as he's fished one out and held it to Speedy. The little guy wraps his two-clawed hand around the vegetable and brings it to its mouth to start crunching.

"That's good to know, Watts. Keep working at it, I'm sure you'll do fine." Thomas was used to dealing with Harry Dresden, his wise-cracking little brother who most of the time seemed to have no idea how to take things seriously enough for long enough to be on the good side of anything. Thomas' sense of humor, on the other hand, tended to be more subtle jabs that would be missed unless you were really paying attention, but he wasn't playing with Watts, now. He actually meant what he'd said.

"That, my friend, is music to my ears. Who wants their dirty laundry aired as fiction anyway?" Not that he liked the direction the detective's thoughts were taking. "Where do you think we should start?" Amusingly, 'fantasy' was his first guess.

It hadn't been meant as an insult, really. Thomas was simply having a difficult time wrapping his head around someone wanting to stay here away from his family, or from people who cared about him and he cared about in kind.

"You don't have anyone in your own world relying on you, or anyone you're worried about protecting?"

Thomas had Justine here, sure, and she was the most important thing he could think of, but he had others, too, others that relied on his presence, and a stupid little brother who liked to get into all sorts of trouble without his big brother to bail him out.

He shakes his head in response to the offer of food, frowning as he watched Tommy's movements. They were fast, sure, but not so fast he didn't notice them. Could he track them, even if he was tapping into the Hunger? That was questionable, but he could notice them at least. This kid wasn't human.

"I'm Thomas, by the way. Who's the little guy?"

He's Thomas. Tommy wants to laugh.

"I'm Tommy. This is Speedy. He's a sloth."

And he has plenty of people home to rely on him. Except they don't want to. Here... here he has family.

"You'll see. When you're here longer."

“Does make one rethink the books they’ve read over the years, doesn’t it?” He responded with a thoughtful hum, before leading Thomas through rows of shelving towards where he recalled the fiction being.

“I suppose that would largely depend on what genre you would categorize your life?” Llewellyn gestured a little as he spoke, sorting through the various categories he could sort his into. “For instance, I would uh... Probably sort mine under mysteries perhaps, given my profession. I can’t imagine the rest of my life would be particularly interesting to read about?” Because that would be a rather rough read in his opinion. There was too much he’d rather not revisit, so he couldn’t imagine anyone would want to read about it. Then again, people did have strange tastes at times. “I found a section on historic fiction the other day that might work as well, if the author was from the future compared to my own era?”

Glancing back at Thomas a moment later, he gestured lightly at him, “Where would you sort yourself then?”

“Hey fuck you.” Beverly’s eyes narrow as she just glares at him. “The sword is to extend my reach. I don’t know if you noticed, jerk but your arms are longer than mine.” And by extension (no pun intended) it means that adult men’s are too. Even if she is a little taller than she was when she’d first arrived.

“Besides, you did magic first. Which is way worse than sneaking because I was just minding my own business when you did.”

"I don't know. I am hoping to find out." She reached towards the book and inspected it curiously. "A lot can be learned by what those in the sphere have taught there children, though I haven't seen many children here."

Just stepped next to Thomas's side, her gaze focused down on what he was cooking. She made a mental note to pick up some cookbooks. It would be nice to be able to make things for Thomas and required if they were to carve out a life in this strange underwater world.

"There are many things that you are good at. I'm excited to see you add cooking to that list." She smiled up at him, a light teasing twinkle in her dark eyes. "We can both learn new skills."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Tommy." And by the smile on his face, Thomas seems to mean that. "And you too, Speedy. When your dad gives you an ironic name, you just got to rock it." The second part was directed at the baby sloth with a nod before looking back to Tommy, frowning.

"Maybe, but if my idiot brother doesn't show up down here, I doubt it."

"Something like that." It wasn't the first time he'd heard of things from fiction coming to life, but a fear eater impersonating a horror movie character was something wholly different from what Watts was suggesting. He listened to Watts' explanation of his own genre, which was weird enough to think about in its own right without having to classify his life. Erotica? Probably, at least if it was from his perspective.

"Horror?" He said it with a slight smirk. "Not really, but...something with magic." Which made him realize something completely different. "Your world doesn't have any, does it? At least not that you know of?" That didn't mean Watts' world was without magic, of course. It simply meant Watts was a normal human with no business mucking about with the arcane.

Yeah, don't worry Thomas, you'll change your opinions on Tommy soon enough. As it is he smirks at the idea of it being an ironic name.

"Well, he's also sorta just named after his pops. He's Speed Jr. technically, but I only ever call him Speedy," Tommy explains as the sloth munches.

"And I'm with you on the hoping your idiot brother doesn't show up down here. Mine would probably end up being claustrophobic or something."

Llewellyn raised a brow, because horror was definitely an interesting one to go with (if slightly concerning), but then Thomas moved on to something with magic and his attention jumped to that instead. It had become something of an interest to him to learn about since arriving in a place like this. “I know there are some books around here that take place in worlds with magic? A lot of people here come from places with various kinds of it as well.” He turned, leading Thomas down another row of books in the direction that he was pretty sure he’d seen them.

He did have to shake his head though, on the subject of his own world. “Nope, not that I’m aware of. We have had a few strange cases through the years when something mm... of the supernatural variety has been suspected? It always ends up being explained with mundane tricks of some sort though.” Of course, this also meant that Llewellyn now had questions. “What sort of magic is there in your world?”

Just Hangin' Around

Merchant Dome and Library | OTA

Abandoned Domes | OTA

Coffee Shop | Closed to Baz

Their Dome | Closed to Justine

Their Dome

Re: Coffee Shop | Closed to Baz

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Coffee Shop | Closed to Baz

Library! Sorry for the wait, poke me if I need to change anything!

You are 100% fine ♥

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