duplicitymemes | TDM #17

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TDM #17

« « « TEST DRIVE MEME » » »

« « « ALL ON DISPLAY

It's discouraging to think how many people are shocked by honesty and how few by deceit. Yet, solace is found in the lies we tell each other, comforted by the peace of knowing that we're not alone in our depravity, and once on this path, sin itself becomes the lesser of two evils masked in a cloud of normalcy.

This is how Duplicity has functioned since the beginning. The divide of power and social standing is overt in that Dominants influence the decisions made both publicly and privately while Submissives cater to the rules presented to them. It is the way of Duplicity to assign random designations at birth with no leeway in altering what has been given. Climate in the Up is far stricter than that of the Down; violating outlined personas for a Dominant or Submissive while in full view of others is punished by degree of infraction. In the Down, many tend to turn a blind eye to these sorts of offenses.

To counteract the discovery of the Deceit Gene – a natural "negative" response to all stimuli – the L.I.E.S. program was founded. The program had been designed to introduce new subjects to the current environment and test for the Deceit Gene through immersion in Duplicity's standing society. Sexual impulses and encounters increase the chances of detecting the gene within these individuals. Participants are typically released from L.I.E.S. after a year; however, results have remained unsatisfactory and testing still continues.

... and you're here! Finally! Welcome to Duplicity.

After choosing a door and stepping through to the other side, the first thing that greets you are the enthusiastic faces of people in medical scrubs and pristine lab coats. Their enthusiasm translates to eagerness as they strip you of your clothes to perform a thorough examination—you will be healed, bathed, and given a clear plastic top and pants along with clear plastic boots to wear until your items can be processed and delivered to your residence later in the evening. You are also given a device that accesses the network as well as the time and location of orientation.

If you enter Duplicity into the Up, congratulations! You're a Dominant, which means you are immediately picked up by a limo after processing and taken to your high rise. Here, it is two Dominants per floor with separate apartments. If you enter Duplicity into the Down, congratulations! You're a Submissive, which means you are directed towards public transportation with the address of the motel you'll be living in. Here, it is two Submissives per room with a shared common space for all rooms.

Enjoy your free time until orientation! Participation is mandatory by all new and old arrivals.

The weather is rather wet and rainy. Very, very rainy.

» » » ALL ABOARD

It's time for the monthly Duplicity train tour. Seats are in pairs and randomly assigned to Dominants and Submissives alike. Traveling from Fiddler's Square, the train journeys through various parts of the Up, showcasing society and examples of lifestyle. Along the way, frequent stops are made; a variety of passengers can be seen exiting and entering the doors. A Dominant with a kneeling Submissive takes a seat near the front of the train at one stop. A small group of Submissives board and sit closer to the LIERS at another, all seemingly content in their roles. As the tour continues through the Up, the train passes close to the Market and White Wall Bridge and zips by North Park before heading into the Down and bypassing Red Wall Bridge and South Park.

The train makes a "final" stop at Riddler's Square, where inhabitants of the Down are instructed to return to their temporary housing. Those who live in the Up are permitted to stay on the train and revisit the same locations while returning.

« « « RAIN RAIN GO AWAY

(cw: aphro, dub-con, violence, marking)

Ice and chilly weather have begun to give way to rain instead, with overcast skies and dark clouds a seemingly constant sight. While the overabundance of rain is an annoyance and comes with the usual series of problems, such as leaky ceilings, mold growth, and gutters or storm drains overflowing, this time the rain carries with it another problem altogether. A weather advisory warning is broadcast to every device, as well as on news networks and radio. The rain, at least for a few days, is not ordinary rain. Whether you're in the Up or the Down, when the water hits clothing it eats away at it. The more water it absorbs, the more the material disintegrates until the wearer is left naked.

When the rain comes in contact with skin (or is ingested) the effects seem to differ depending on where you are in Duplicity. In the Up, it's relatively harmless and merely has an aphrodisiac effect, leaving individuals feeling hot and bothered, more sociable and touchy feely.

Those in the Down, however, are not so lucky. As the rain seeps through the soil from the Up, it ends up laced with toxins, causing a range of less pleasant side effects for anyone unfortunate enough to come into contact with it. Aside from the aphrodisiac, those who get caught in the rain may develop an uncomfortable, itchy rash, leaving them looking rather spotty for a few days. Those who can't resist scratching at themselves will find a newfound pleasure to the relief it brings and start to crave the feeling or sight of similar marks. In worst case scenarios, individuals will become addicted to marking themselves and others, perhaps even to the point of breaking skin.

Effects may last for several hours after exposure and will stack with repeated exposures. In all cases, getting off will bring temporary relief but will not alleviate the symptoms entirely.

Plastic coverings seem to be unaffected by the rain and, as word spreads, the Natives in Duplicity form a mad rush buying up umbrellas. Unless a character is lucky, they may find themselves unable to purchase - or even borrow - one. Theft of umbrellas becomes widespread in the Down, often escalating to violence, and even the Up isn't safe from thugs trying to steal and resell this suddenly hot commodity.

There's another side to all of this, however. Due to the shortage of umbrellas, it isn't uncommon to see Dom/Sub pairs sharing umbrellas together. If anything, it's encouraged as a means to strengthen their bond. Enterprising Subs and Doms alike may even sell their "services" to escort individuals who would otherwise end up soaked.

« « « SUPPLEMENTAL INCOME

(cw: substance abuse, altered states, coercion, fluids, physical body changes)

A new "holistic" pharma company named SQuIRT is opening up in Duplicity and is paying a pretty penny for people to trial run their new line of supplements. These supplements are supposed to increase a person's vitality and energy levels, but the side effects are what the company is really looking out for.

Some of the side effects aren't so bad and could include:

Prolonged erections
Lactation in both men and women
Size enlargement of breasts or genitals
Copious amounts of ejaculate or sexual fluids
Sudden interest in previously unexplored kinks

While others might find their own reaction to be a little more severe:

Shrinkage of breasts, genitals, or entire being
Inability to cum
Uncontrollable hair growth or hair loss
Temporary loss of one or more senses
Spontaneous weeping

Subjects must take the supplements for at least a week, otherwise they'll receive no compensation for their troubles. All new arrivals will find themselves automatically enrolled in these trials, whether they want to be or not, and expected to report to the clinic. Of course they don't have to take the supplements, but the payout is certainly enticing, especially for those unfortunate enough to be branded Submissives.

« « « STICKY FINGERS

(cw: violence)

Crime runs rampant in the Down as always but now, with the nastier side effects of the rain creating an ongoing problem, some unsavory types are sneaking their way into the Up where the effects aren't so hazardous.

The result is an uptick in crime in places that are usually considered safe. Be careful how you carry yourself - and your valuables. Those who look like easy pickings may find their pockets empty. Cameras in public areas are being vandalized as well, while homes and businesses are seeing a rise in graffiti. Most of the graffiti is merely obscene, but some is outright seditious. Good luck explaining the latter to the authorities if you happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

One of the smaller gangs that has a presence in the Down is taking particular advantage of the rain's disruption to expand their territory into the Up. Known as the Bulldogs, their members are young men and they have a reputation for violent muggings and assaults - mainly targeting Submissives. They loiter in groups near the train and the elevator between the Up and the Down to ambush the alone and unwary. At night, they also prey on those walking home from bars or clubs who may not fully have their wits about them.

In addition to beating up their victims for money, some of the Bulldogs are engaging in an informal competition over who can steal the most umbrellas - with bonus points awarded for whatever else they feel like. LIERs are worth double points by default, so watch out!

« « « MOD & OOC NOTES

Please read carefully.

On each Test Drive Meme, there will be a section noting character roles; these will vary each TDM. On an IC level, characters will still have gone through the doors but assignments OOCly are still randomized. When applying, there is a section of the application that denotes whether the character chooses "left" or "right". When participating on the TDM, there will be a third option. Players may link either a top level or a thread (five or more comments from their character) from the TDM and title the link as "Door Pass". This means that the player is choosing to take the designation that they were randomly assigned on the TDM, rather than taking the designation of a door. If the player decides to select a door rather than use the pass, then they are trying their luck; they may get the same designation they had on the TDM or the opposite. Once the application is submitted, players can't change their choice.

To assign roles to characters for this TDM, use the following guide:

Players can choose whether to assign their character as a Dominant or Submissive on this TDM for the Door Pass for March Applications only. For May's Application round, threads started here may be used as samples however they will not be eligible for a Door Pass in May. Characters will need to use a thread from May's TDM, using those Door Pass rules, for an application after the March round.

To Note: Characters can only swap their designation for one of the following reasons: an event occurs that allows it or there are OOC reasons that make it a necessity. Any swap always requires mod approval and each character can only ever switch once. Characters that are being reapped will keep their previous designation but players can choose to use new TDMs with different designations for fun!

THERE WILL BE NO APPLICATION ROUND IN APRIL

Please remember to mark any necessary content, and have a good time!!

» » » MAIN NAVIGATION « « «

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"Thank you."

He takes off his hat and jacket, then makes his way towards the living room, lighting a cigarette on the way. Once it's lit, he pauses for a moment to study his lighter. Wonder if Albert has discovered these yet? He'll have to ask him.

There's a few minutes of soft noise from the kitchen, Albert talking to himself as he does when taking photographs, the sound of the kettle whistling on the stove, the clink of cups together. Then he returns, with two cups in hand, steaming rich black coffee.

"I have milk and sugar too, should you have developed the taste for it." Albert says as he offers an elegant black ceramic mug out to his friend. "But for some reason, adding those seems to dilute it unacceptable to my palate."

While Albert putters about in the kitchen, Arthur finds the couch and makes himself comfortable. There's nothing spectacular about the place yet, but he's sure it won't take too long before the walls are covered in photos. At least, he assumes Albert would like to cover it with photos.

He straightens a little in his seat when Albert walks in, and huffs quietly in amusement as he reaches for the coffee.

"I ain't there yet," he says with a shake of his head. "If I ever will be."

Which he really doubts.

Art, certainly. Not necessarily his own, unless it's perhaps a very stand out memory or a particually wonderful landscape. He isn't often very good at seeing the worth of his own work and would much rather hang the art of other people, which to him is always far more beautiful.

But that remains unspoken as he sits down himself, taking a mouthful of coffee. He's without his hat now, which has been left to dry on the table in the kitchen, and he's hoping he will soon dry out too.

"You know, until you appeared, I was not sure if this was all some very strange dream."

"Oh, I wouldn't discount that possibility yet."

Sure, it's been so long by now that it's getting more and more difficult to tell himself that this will all end sooner rather than later. But dreams have always been strange and what feels like hours in a dream can be nothing but a few minutes. Who's to say a few months can't be as short as a few minutes in reality? Or a few years?

Albert looks at him, with sudden concern in his features. "My dreams are not quite this... involved."

He doesn't dream of strange future worlds with technology he doesn't understand. Perhaps the focus on sex and divisions in society might well feature in some of them, although he doesn't want to discuss the nature of those dreams with anyone. He wouldn't discuss them with Arthur especially, as someone who had been part of those fantasies.

Now, that's a good point.

"Suppose mine ain't either."

He stubs the cigarette, then finally leans back again and cradles the cup between his hands.

There's no reason to talk about it, really. Back home, Albert would likely never learn of it, and eventually he'd probably forget. At least, that's what Arthur's told himself about many of the people he's met. Some knew he was dying, because he told them or because it was obvious. Others wouldn't have a clue. If Albert is so happy to see him, is it kindness or cruelty to let him think there's a possibility they might meet again?

He doesn't know, and for several seconds he says nothing, tongue-tied by the idea of telling but knowing full well the longer he stays silent, the more suspicious it is. Especially when the brooding is both visible and palpable, more so than he's aware of.

Albert is used to Arthur's silence. Mostly, he enjoys it. Arthur is a man of few words, but when he does say something, it tends to be amusing or insightful, or often both. He appreciates his wisdom, although he knows Arthur would not think of it as such. But this silence is not of that nature. It is heavy and uncomfortable, there's something in the air that tastes like a bad storm. He doesn't like it, and so he sets his own cup down on the bland modern coffee table and looks at his friend.

"What is it that bothers you?" He asks, trying to prompt Arthur into actually talking about what's on his mind. He might not choose to answer, but hopefully, he will take the invitation for what it is, and let someone else help him shoulder whatever burden it is that he's carrying.

As for what that burden is, Albert has no real idea. He knows that Arthur Morgan is no innocent, he knows that his lifestyle is probably lawless, but he's never witnessed anything particularly worrying in his conduct. What has happened here that has caused him such pain?

Right.

Maybe that's what he wanted to be asked, so it feels like he doesn't have a choice. Even if he does. Could just say it's nothing but, shit ... He hasn't talked about it with anyone, hasn't shared all of the uncertainties that he keeps thinking about. Didn't think he needed to. He's written about it, and that's often enough.

But he can't shake this one.

He takes a deep breath.

"I got TB," he says, and he can feel his heart beating in his ears. "Diagnosed after I last saw you. Went downhill fast. I should be dead. I felt it. Knew it was coming 'least a day before. Then they miraculously cured me when I got here, somehow."

And he takes another deep breath, except this one is more exhale than inhale. There. It's out. No taking it back now.

Albert's mouth opens in pure disbelief, looking at Arthur with horror. While there are some that would fear for their own health after being in close proximity to someone with such an ailment, that is not his worry. He had thought, upon seeing Arthur, that he looked too thin, too pale. And now he knows why.

"Merciful God." He finds himself saying, "Then for all else this place may do, I am glad that you are here and whole."

He knows too that such a thing must weigh heavy on Arthur, on the knowledge and anticipation of death. He doesn't know if Arthur had made his peace with it, but he says it in such a way... a way that chill Albert to his core.

"I am glad you are not dead, Arthur."

He's not sure what to think about the expression on Albert's face. Nobody else had had that kind of reaction. Others had been ... sympathetic, sure. Often more than he could fully appreciate or understand. Most people he'd opted not to tell, but he's sure they knew something was very wrong. How could they not have?

Still, no one had looked at him like that. Not Sadie, not Sister Calderón, not Charles. What does he do with it?

If only it was so simple that he could be glad, himself. He shrugs haplessly, and brings the cup to his lips like it might give him an excuse for not answering.

Albert doesn't mean to make Arthur uncomfortable, nor does he appreciate the strength of his own feeling. Death is a part of life, without it there is no renewal, and he's not a stranger to the idea, certainly not in nature. But it's different, when the concept is so close to home, when the death you are talking about is the death of someone who means so much to you.

As strange as that sounds, when in truth they've met each other the total sum of four times in his reckoning, five in Arthur's own. Arthur has shown great concern for him, saved his life far more times than should really be possible, and helped him without asking for payment or any favour. He didn't deserve Arthur's kindness, but he would not refuse it.

"Does that mean... you can not return?"

It's not Albert's fault. Arthur hadn't expected to have to confront these thoughts again, but it's hard to ignore them when someone he knew back home is here.

He takes a sip of coffee, and yet another deep breath.

"I don't know what it means. Been trying not to think about it."

What's the point?

It's possible he could ask about it. He wouldn't ask LIEs, because he doesn't trust that their answer would be truthful, but plenty of people have been here for a very long time and might know something.

But then he'd risk people prying, and it's not like he couldn't refuse to answer questions, but refusal is also an answer.

He nods, deciding not to press any further because he doubts that they are going to easily find out the answer. For some reason, and one that he doesn't wish to examine too hard at this point, the idea of returning to a world where he knows there will be no Arthur Morgan is... unpleasant.

He knows that he should want to go home. He has work to do, he has prints to develop, he misses the sounds of the birds and the deer, the call of elk in the high hills, the scent of the flowers and the sunsets over Flat Iron Lake. But... would it all be a little muted, knowing that a good man is dead?

"Shall we talk about something else?" Albert asks, knowing that this subject of conversation can only really go further downhill, and he does not wish to dwell on it any more than Arthur seems to. "As far as I am concerned, you are here, you are well, and I am glad for it. No more need be said about it, if you wish not to."

It's an invitation to talk about something that isn't difficult or uncomfortable, and he appreciates that. At the same time, he thinks back on his conversation with Tomoe and how involuntary revelations, and realises that the last thing he wants is for Albert to find things out about him in a way like that.

They barely know each other, but what else does he have right now?

"Do you know of Dutch van der Linde, Mr. Mason?"

Albert reaches for his own coffee again, taking a sip and trying to recall where he has heard that name before. It seems familiar to him, although in a way that feels a little ephemeral, something he paid little attention to. Clearly nothing to do with his mission to photograph the mangificant creatures then.

"I'll admit, it seems that I should know it." He paused, taking another sip, and shakes his head. "But from where? That escapes me, I'm afraid. But I have a feeling you are going to enlighten me, Mr Morgan, and so I put myself in your capable hands. Who is Dutch van der Linde?"

For a man who clearly prefers to be out in nature than among people, Arthur supposes it's not a surprise that he can't really remember. It's very unlikely that no one heard the name during the summer, though.

"I'm sure you heard about the ferry robbery in Blackwater? That was the Van der Linde gang."

It feels like ages ago to him, but it's only been a few months.

"Why yes, it was a massacre, or so I hea-" he stops, and looks at Arthur with no small amount of concern. "You were caught up in all of that?"

He fears the answer. Arthur has repeatedly warned him he is not a good man, more dangerous than wolves he said at one point. He is not sure what he fears most, that Arthur was attacked, or that he is somehow involved with a gang of outlaws.

Then again, if Arthur was, is, or could be an outlaw, he has only ever been kind to him. Protected and assisted without threat or demand, and Albert has benefited from Arthur's ability to look menacing. Only a little while ago, in fact.

He shakes his head.

"No, that wasn't my job. But it was my gang. For twenty years or so." He pauses for a moment, raising his eyebrows with disbelief. "Twenty goddamn years."

Twenty years that meant nothing at all in the end. Not for the first time, he feels like all his life was wasted. Even if he's not sure he would have had a life without Dutch and Hosea.

Some people got out. He has to remember that, and just hope that they'll be all right.

The thought is enough of a distraction from the anticipation of rejection, at least. Because he's sure that's coming. Why would someone like Albert want to associate with an outlaw? Not a chance.

As Arthur speaks, the strain in him is apparent in his voice, in his face, in his eyes, and Albert reaches out to steady him, his hand on Arthur's shoulder. His thoughts whirl, his heart sinking with both sympathetic pain and his own. Outlaws hardly ever met a good end. Even if Arthur had recovered from TB, he would have probably died in a shoot-out, or in prison, or more likely if he was caught, the end of a rope.

Albert swallows that down, pushing it away from the here and now, the man sat on his couch in the heated apartment, in a city they'd never heard of, possibly not even on Earth.

"Twenty years is a long time, but it couldn't have all been bad." He says, trying to coax Arthur away from the edge he seems to be stood on, metaphorically. "Whatever you think, Mr Morgan, you always helped me. You saved me, when you didn't have to. I always enjoy bumping into you, I was never afraid of you. I don't intend to start now."

As soon as he registers the hand on his shoulder, he turns his head to look at Albert with utter confusion. Sure, he's not the first one who didn't seem to care about Arthur being an outlaw, but it only makes less sense this time.

"Really? I just told you I'm a thief and a killer, and ... that's it? That's just fine?"

Albert feels the disbelief and he knows that it makes very little sense. He should be asking Arthur to leave. He should be trying to distance himself from this man.

But he doesn't want to. He has no reason to, whatever Arthur says, whatever he has done, that is not the man that Albert has seen. Is a good man capable of doing bad things? Yes, undoubtedly. Can a bad man do good? Clearly, yes. He himself is not innocent, not pure or without sin, and he has no ground to judge Arthur.

"No, it is not fine. But I don't think you did it for fun, I do not believe you capable of torturing your fellow man just because you could. I think you might even regret some of what you have done. But you are not that man to me. And here we are. Without Dutch van der Linde and his gang. Here is a chance to start anew."

He hadn't meant to sound accusatory or aggressive, and the realisation feels like ... Well, like the exhaustion after a bad coughing fit courtesy of tuberculosis. He slumps where he sits, and scrubs a hand over his face.

If only Albert knew just how much he regrets.

"Sorry," he says, barely even a whisper, and puts his cup down on the coffee table.

What else is there to say?

A lot, truthfully. But all of them just sound like excuses. Dutch saved him. The gang was the closest thing he ever had to a family. It didn't use to be like the Blackwater massacre. They helped a several people. None of them chose it but they didn't know any other way to live.

It all just sounds empty and he can't bring himself to speak any of it out loud.

Arthur has pulled away from his hand in the action of slumping down, moved away from the attempt at reassurance. Which is a pity, as he seems to need that now more than before. But Albert doesn't hesitate to touch him again, he has never hesitated to touch Arthur. So back the hand goes, thumb rubbing at Arthur's shoulder.

"You have no need to apologise to me." He replies in the same gentle tone. "You may think I'm a fool Arthur, but it's true. You have never done anything to harm me. And I believe you are a good man."

He scoffs.

"You are a fool. You hardly know me."

You don't know you, Sister Calderón had said, and he shakes his head with a wry smile at the thought. Maybe it's true. Maybe it's not so simple to say that he's a bad man either. Probably nothing is that simple. But a good man? That still seems like a stretch.

Yet, he accepts the comfort like he's starved for it, doesn't pull away or reject it. He stays exactly where he is, only moving enough to reach for the coffee again. It'll get cold otherwise.

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