bakerstreet | because we needed a meme with some gen options :D

university life au meme
stolen from

memebells
because the semester is starting
and that just sucks.

do this:
☑ leave a blank comment with your character's name and fandom in the subject for others to reply to.
☑ when replying, use the RNG to generate a number between 1 and 10.
☑ or cheat and pick whichever number you like best.
☑ your characters are now in a ~*situation*~ together. make of it what you will.

scenarios:
[01] lecture hall ➟ who the fuck actually pays attention during these things? well, maybe you. or maybe you're texting someone, dicking around on the internet, or going oldschool and passing notes.
[02] cafeteria ➟ chow time! sit down to eat with your friends, stand awkwardly and look for a table like you did in middle school, or be that creep-ass in the corner, eating with his hood up.
[03] doorsock ➟ awww yeeee. it's time to get down to business. just don't forget the sock on the door, dude. seriously. (and use protection!)
[04] sexiled ➟ someone else put the sock on the door, because your ass is stuck out here. at least you're not alone? listen in, interrupt, find something else to do, or just chat and wait. (they won't be long, right?)
[05] room inspection ➟ oh shi— maybe someone gave you a heads up, and you're scrambling to hide your shit. maybe someone didn't, and you're basically fucked.
[06] frat party ➟ drunk? stoned? costumed? alone? about to get lucky? about to get busted? it's up to you, man.
[07] new roomie ➟ who's this douchebag? your new roommate! help them get settled in, draw a line down the center of the room, label all your shit. however you roll.
[08] study buddies ➟ an all-nighter cram session, or a regular weekly thing? maybe you don't even get much studying done, but hey, whatever, right?
[09] morning after ➟ what the actual fuck happened last night? bizarre texts? underwear hanging in places they shouldn't? a bathtub full of tequila and limes? just a gorgeous being in bed next to you?
[10] go crazy ➟ pick one or make up your own! get fucking creative.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ someone got here a week early to move in all his things. much like a cat, he needs time to get comfortable in his own space. there's a stolen skeleton from the medical wing sitting in one corner, the standard-issue chairs have been discarded for more modern fare, and there's a delicate array of clutter littering the small space, various textbooks and lab equipment strewn over both desks. there's a laptop somewhere in the center of the hurricane, obscured beneath discarded sweaters and coats.

currently he's crouched over a mini-fridge checking on one of his experiments. he was probably aware that today's move-in day at one point, but the information was subsequently discarded in favor of more important things. ]

[ John is alone in the world when he steps off the bus, but between the entrance and the dormitories, he finds a group of lads who are ready to talk about the latest match and help him carry his things up to his room. He is young and easy to make friends, especially among young men who are interested in rugby, parties, and girls in short skirts.

Sherlock's first warning is a clamor of sound in the hall, a boisterous din of ego and expectation. It continues a moment outside of 221 as John assures them he'll be fine for the rest of the way, exchanges numbers, and promises to show up at the pre-term party.

A knock on the door next before the lock is opening and the way is sliding open to reveal a short, sturdy blonde boy in Blackheath red-and-black stripes and jeans. ]

Hello.

[ It's definitely an statement of surprise, going by his slightly overwhelmed expression when considering the state of the room (the mess - his mother would have slapped him silly). He turns his head to check the number but, no, this is his place. Home sweet Hellhole. And there's a dark-haired young man crouched at the center of the room, clearly the overlord of this den.

John clears his throat, a bit awkwardly. He hovers in the doorway, leaning so that the weight of his schoolbag rest on his hip. That, combined with the steamer trunk, were the only things he had to his name. ]

Sherlock Holmes?

[ he's aware of the noise in the hall, using it as a precursor to finish fiddling with any truly sensitive materials. he hadn't done much research on his roommate, or rather there hadn't been much to turn up, beyond the name and the school he'd graduated from, nothing conspicuous. sherlock straightens up from the mini-fridge, tugging the hem of his suit jacket to straighten it. he's-- a little dressed up for the first day, but he wanted to make a good impression. for some reason, he's been told he isn't good at that. ]

John Watson.

[ does he shake hands? his eyes travel from john to the bag at his hip, then the trunk below, reading what he can of his new roommate before they've made proper introductions. dismay, but not distaste, possibly more to do with sherlock's decorating than sherlock himself. impulsively, he leans over to pick up a sweater thrown over the back of his chair, folding it then...tossing it onto his bed.

he should probably say something else. ]

How do you feel about the violin?

[ It's a little odd, seeing the paradox of a tailored appearance in the midst of disarray. ]

Yes.

[ He confirms, a little absently. He's not sure what they should do either - under normal circumstances, he'd be shaking hands, but he's a little distracted. Is that a skeleton? Which one is his desk?

He's being asked a question. ]

Sorry. The violin?

[ The trunk is old and battered, faded. It's been used, and not just by him. There's still tags on it from the train. He's moved a lot, going by the locations on them. His bag is somewhat new. His shoes are not. He's played rugby, but that's not what he's come to school for. ]

I can't say I mind it either way. Do you play?

Ah.

[ he casts another glance around, as if seeing the room again for the first time. it's possible he is, since his brain tends to discard information that's not important, the state of his surroundings has gone unchanged for long enough that it falls into that category. thinking quickly he starts toward one of the desks, seemingly making an arbitrary decision as to which and dismantling the campus map that had been spread out on it, red pushpins marking... well, that's of little consequence. just give him a minute. ]

I do. Play. Often at odd hours, but I've been discouraged from indulging in that particular practice.

[ he offers john a smile that's almost friendly. ]

Thin walls, apparently. As if that'll keep other students from other forms of nocturnal disturbances.

[ turning away from john to pile most of his things on his own bed, now. he'll sort it out later-- or never and sleep on the floor, he isn't exactly picky. he asked for a single, but here they are. probably mycroft's doing, since he has some sway with the school board. te information he's gotten from taking john in is more than enough to go on for now-- that coupled with the noise in the hall gives him almost everything he'd need to know about someone he wasn't living with. ]

You told your new friends you didn't require further assistance, but do you want help moving in?

[Irene looks out of place at this party, in her expensive-looking cocktail dress and 6-inch designer heels. All the other girls are in clubwear or sweats that bear the mark of their sorority. The other girls are also rip-roaringly drunk.

In contrast, she has held the same bottle of beer for the entire 45 minutes since she arrived and never once sipped from it. She leans against the wall, phone out, apparently texting. In actuality, she's snapping photos.]

[ The other girls are rip-roaringly drunk - that's partially the reason he and a bunch of other lads are here.

Except the night is not going as planned for John. He's just all but thrown his girlfriend into the bathroom and shut the door to guard it. She'd lied to him about how many she'd had before he got there.

He's sampled some of the jungle juice, but he's not there quite yet. Buzzed enough to look at Irene and think twice about the fact he's supposed to be dating (though he can already hear his roommate drawing even worse conclusions from this particular incident, probably enough to put him off... again) someone. Bond, John. James Bond.

Going for casual, if a bit joking here. ]

You seem like you could appreciate a good conversation.

[ No, John. Leave her alone. ]

[This can only end in tears.

She glances up from the phone, smiling in a way that might be taken as friendly in the dim lighting.]

Yes, but the question is, can you provide one? [Go on, John. Impress her. He already has a few points for not approaching her with "Hey [insert overly-familiar term of endearment here]" or "Where's your boyfriend?" like the other guys she's already blown off. That coupled with the lack of obvious scandal fodder means she's up for a distraction.]

[ John offers his own smile, not as much self-satisfied as it is of a boy who thinks they're up for a challenge.

The real tears are going to come if Sherlock hears he's trying to use his techniques to pick up women. ]

You are... not a part of a sorority. You haven't drank your beer so you are either waiting on someone or you don't want to look too off.

Psychology major? Is this a study?

[Not bad. She cocks her head, appraising.]

A study. 'The Effects of Intoxication on Modern Human Mating Rituals?' Something like that? [She laughs, genuinely amused by the thought. If she were so inclined, she probably could pull something of the sort together. All names changed to protect the guilty, of course.]

No, I'm afraid not.

I just like to people-watch.

because we needed a meme with some gen options :D

John Watson | Sherlock BBC | OTA

7

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6 oh god...

WELP

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