duplicitymemes | TDM #21

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«tdm

TDM #21

« « « 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 paper gown 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 highrise. 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.

Autumn is in full swing and the weather is cool and damp.

» » » ALL ABOARD

After stepping through the door and participating in orientation, LIERS are assembled together in the Up for a tour of Duplicity in its entirety. 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.

« « « THE FIRST TIME IS FREE

(cw: coercion)

With the days growing shorter and the weather chillier, LIEs has decided to partner with a popular hotel chain in Duplicity to showcase its new themed rooms and encourage those who have recently arrived to get warm and cozy (if not hot and heavy) with one another. Rather than taking place on site at one of the hotels, a demo area has been set up in the Orientation building for a limited time, making use of three of its many empty rooms, transforming them for lucky pairs to enjoy.

Of course it's not just new arrivals who are expected to participate—both current and graduated participants may find themselves roped in as well, paired off with fresh new faces or familiar ones. Pairings are randomized, though always a Dominant and a Submissive, and the demo sessions last 1-2 hours.

There are three different themed rooms to try — Azure, Malachite, and Scarlet — each with a distinct color palette. Though they vary in decor and amenities, all three have a queen sized bed, en suite bathroom, minibar (stocked with aphro treats), complimentary aphro mints on the pillow, and a standard array of sex toys to choose from (dildos, vibrators, plugs, cock rings, etc.) Each room will also have its own special atmospheric effect on characters, though how strongly it will influence their desires may vary from person to person.

All those who participate will receive coupons for a discounted stay at the actual hotel chain if they wish to book a room overnight after enjoying the demo rooms. 'Tis the season, after all, to indulge in one's deepest, darkest desires.

« « « AZURE

(cw: aphro, dubcon, potential for various kinks including but not limited to age play, pet play, other types of roleplay, medical kink, bondage, temperature play, electrostimulation, large insertions, and monster dicks)

The Azure Room is decorated in sleek futuristic style with blue lighting and lots of clean lines. The walls and ceiling are mirrored and most furniture, aside from the bed and certain… specialty items, is made of glass. The bathroom is tiled in dark blue and features both a glass-walled shower with multiple adjustable and detachable showerheads and a freestanding bath filled with ice water.

All sorts of toys, kinky implements, costumes, and accessories are available for use—including, of particular note, a large collection of brightly colored silicone dildos with unconventional shapes reflecting alien or monstrous anatomy. Dragon dicks? Of course. Tentacle dildo? You bet. Some of these even have a special base that allows them to be connected to various fucking machines in place of the standard attachments. A padded leather exam chair (blue, naturally) with ankle stirrups and a ceiling-mounted sex swing round out the room's more niche furnishings.

Upon entering, both characters will feel a general willingness to experiment. They may feel especially drawn toward roleplay (of various kinds), pet play, leather/lace/latex clothing fetishes, temperature play (ice or wax), medical kink, or electrostimulation—but really, anything goes. This room is all about broadening one's horizons and it has a little something for everyone.

« « « MALACHITE

(cw: altered mental states, aphro, dubcon, service (sexual or domestic), bondage, human furniture, face-sitting/forced oral, orgasm control/denial, master/servant roleplay, shaving kink)

The Malachite Room is stunningly opulent with ornately carved dark wooden furniture, rich fabrics, and damask wallpaper. There's a crown motif running through many of the designs and nearly everything that isn't wood or metal is some shade of green. The bed is a massive four poster with an emerald green canopy, and directly across from it sits a lavish velvet throne. The bathroom boasts a large sunken tub with an array of soaps, scented bubble baths, and massage oils lined up within easy reach.

A selection of toys are laid out on silver serving trays on the dresser: butt plugs with jeweled bases and glass dildos, the aesthetic ranging from elegant to outright gaudy. Silk scarves are draped across another tray along with neatly-looped bundles of rope. The throne, upon closer inspection, has a semi-circular opening in the seat cushion and a fabric sling below where someone lying beneath it might rest their head.

When a pair enters the room, one will feel an inclination toward service and submission, while the other will feel the desire to be served or simply exert control. They may wish to engage in master/servant or royalty roleplay, body worship, massage, bondage, human furniture kink, shaving/washing/grooming kinks, orgasm control/denial, and other kinks of a similar nature. The role each character feels inclined toward does not have to match their designation, e.g. a Dominant might feel the urge to get on their knees.

« « « SCARLET

(cw: altered mental states, aphro, dubcon, sadomasochism, bondage, caging/confinement, humiliation)

The Scarlet Room is, well, vibrantly scarlet, with mood lighting to match. The style is closer to a dungeon than a hotel room, though still a luxurious one—all red leather upholstery and gleaming stainless steel. The bed sits inside a floor-to-ceiling circular metal cage with a door that latches from the outside. The bathroom has no door, leaving it in full view of the rest of the room at all times. In addition to the basic amenities, it also features a heart-shaped jacuzzi.

A padded table with attached restraints and a smaller cage underneath, a spanking bench, and an x-frame bondage cross make up most of the other furniture. One wall is dedicated to a rack of toys and equipment, such as stainless steel dildos and plugs, sounding rods, anal hooks, spreader bars, rope, cuffs, chastity devices, clothespins and nipple clamps, gags, hoods, blindfolds, paddles, whips, floggers, crops, and canes. There is also a small selection of knives and tools for branding.

When a pair enters this room, one will feel an inclination toward dishing out punishment and the other will feel a desire to be punished. These sadomasochistic urges can take many forms, such as impact play, knife play and/or blood play, branding, nipple/breast torture, genital torture, bondage, caging/confinement, and humiliation. The role each character feels inclined toward does not have to match their designation, e.g. a Submissive might wish to take a Dominant over their knee and spank them.

« « « SEXPRESSO

(cw: aphro/drugs)

In a bid to boost local businesses, as well as make contracts, LIEs has partnered with the coffee chain Peek-A-Brew to help play matchmaker this time around. Along with the usual goodie bag, each character will be handed a small slip of paper after Orientation with a date and time, location, and three fun facts about a mystery partner they're to meet for a coffee date. These "facts" may or may not actually be true — they're simply meant to spark conversation. For the duration of the 1-2 hours the pairs are expected to spend getting to know one another, they will receive unlimited free coffee and tea and a discount on any other menu items. Naturally, all goods are spiked to make the consumers more agreeable, more truthful, and perhaps a bit more handsy than normal. Though the meetings are not mandatory, touching the paper brings on an inexplicable sense of curiosity about meeting their partner and discovering who they really are.

« « « 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:

If your character prefers tea, they are a Submissive. If your character prefers coffee, they are a Dominant.

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!

Test Drive threads can be used as activity proofs for characters currently in-game.

Please remember to mark any necessary content, and have fun!!

» » » MAIN NAVIGATION « « «

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Irving sits as intended -- it's rarely very hard to make him respond more or less as one might want him to, as long as they're telling him what to do without telling him what to do -- and clasps his hands on the table in front of him, both listening and waiting patiently. He's prepared to argue, briefly, that it's obviously an imposition if Jopson is giving up his room, but on the other hand, Irving also rather appreciates privacy, himself... ]

Now, now, Jopson. No need for that-- I'm sure there must be plenty of space for both of us to share the room.

[ And then, pausing, he quirks up an eyebrow up as Jopson makes mention of his contract partner housemate. ]

Mr. Day? [ Safe to say it's not a name he recognizes, so this is no one Irving should already know. ] And which room would be his?

[ His lip twitches just slightly, in the way it tends towards when he has a disagreeing opinion he's choosing not to express. If Irving knew, he would certainly be less inclined to share. Likely less inclined to stay at all, and that would do more harm than good. He keeps that very much to himself, deciding instead to drop the subject entirely in favor of the second. He points over the boiling kettle to Stephen's door, very much locked. ]

Mr. Stephen Day. A friend, and a respectable one at that. I've told you that time's funny here, he's a bit on from us, but close enough. Round about 1880.

[ He may not be Billy Gibson, but he knows exactly how you take your tea Irving, so that's what comes around, perfectly made, along with a plate of biscuits. ]

Eat something, sir. As much as you like, I've got plenty more where that comes from. Heaven's bounty and all that.

[ The tea is a revelation only just short of worthy of being called "miraculous" (if doing so wouldn't be a minor blasphemy, obviously) and nearly makes Irving want to weep with gratitude after so long of having to go without-- not only his tea but proper tea altogether, proper food, proper anything. If there are any silver linings at all to Duplicity that Irving can see thus far, this would surely be among the greatest.

He takes a deep sip, sighing with contented satisfaction once he sets his teacup back down. ]

Nothing quite so heartening as being in the presence of such bounties again, is there. [ With a smile, as he lifts his cup again to tip it in thanks. ] Thought if only it were Heaven that has provided it to us.

[ Irving's expression darkens slightly, grows vaguely somber, though he refrains from elaborating on his already near-certainty that Duplicity is in fact Hell. ]

But please, tell me more about your Mr. Day-- so that I may not be caught unawares when finally meeting him. [ If they're to be living together even just temporarily, after all. ] What sort of chap is he?

[ Oh but he would much rather talk of the former than the latter. The former, that being the heavenly status of where they are or lack thereof, is more to the point, less scandalous and more importantly less personal. But he also can't avoid it entirely, and he does feel better about having this conversation in private, with tea, and with the very pleasant feeling of satisfaction knowing he's made Irving comfortable. Tea truly is miraculous (thinks he, who is not so afraid of a little blasphemy.).

But how does he describe Stephen, a witch and a sodomite, to Lieutenant John Irving of all people? He sits down across from Irving with a cup of his own, warm and reassuring in his hands. ]

He's a good lad. Quiet, keeps busy and well to himself, mostly. Good morals, confident, though you wouldn't know it for looking at him. He worked for the peelers back in London, and he's wound about as tightly as I am, so that should tell you quite a bit.

[ He doesn't realize he's doing it, but he's smiling as he describes Stephen. He's gotten quite fond, in spite of his reservations. His finger taps the side of his cup, as he thinks on his next words. ]

I would avoid preaching gospel if you're able, as a matter of keeping the peace.

[ He sips his tea then, eyes on Irving, watching his reaction. ]

[ It's no less personal a subject to John Irving, the nature of Duplicity in all its depraved influences and perverse temptations, the implications it suggests for his -- and Jopson's, and anyone else's -- immortal souls; even lacking any knowledge of his own death (but safe enough to imagine any number of ways it could have occurred without that really being the major sticking point here for him yet) Irving's blood goes cold to consider for what reason he might be in Hell.

Really, he could almost cry.

But instead he drinks his tea, blinking as he listens to Jopson describe his new friend and housemate. Nothing untoward about the nature of their relationship stands out to Irving for now, because Jopson's efficient description is as informative as it needs to be just to give Irving a concept of the man to whom his crewmate has clearly become fond of enough to value his company so.

The cup lowers again, clinking slightly from the slightly agitated force with which Irving sets it down. ]

I have not been preaching gospel, as you say, although if I am to be asked, Jopson, how I'm meant to feel about the clear immoral nature of where I've found myself, then I will speak my thoughts quite plain. Even if I were the last and only Christian man in Hell, I will never feel shame for speaking on my dedication to carrying the Lord's love with me, in my heart. [ He pauses, taking a breath. ] Can you not understand? God cannot reach us here-- our faith alone is all that remains of Him in this place.

[ He drinks his tea, patiently waiting as Irving does exactly what he had suggested he not do, because it was entirely to be expected. Better Irving preach at someone who isn't particularly bothered by it than at someone who might take it as a reason to fight. He waits until he believes Irving is quite done, before responding with level tone. ]

I'm not asking you to feel any shame, sir, far from it. I think grace is what's required. And patience, and not a little bit of charity. And I'll not have you getting in a row in my home.

[ Because the truth of the matter is that people haven't taken well to him expounding on the status of their immortal souls and he said very much at all. He can only imagine that Irving will rub very many people the wrong way, and quickly. He takes another sip of his tea. ]

We've been where God couldn't reach us, and that isn't here. If our souls have ever been in his hands they certainly are now.

[ Irving's jaw clenches with a nearly audible click, his gaze darkening slightly with disapproval; keeping his feelings off his face has never been John Irving's strong suit, and this is obviously a particularly sensitive topic. He's already had a handful of tense moments, strong words on the subject, over tea and coffee. ]

I said nothing about a lack of grace, nor charity. I happen to still believe very strongly in all manner of virtue, even here-- perhaps, in fact, here may grant them an even deeper importance, a place so full of lost souls seeking meaning and... redemption. [ He sighs, fingers clasping around his teacup, worrying idly at his already somewhat ragged cuticles with his nails. ] But there is most certainly no trace of God down here with us.

[ Something that brings him next to no comfort to say or to believe, but he also can't imagine any alternative. Irving takes another sip of tea, breathing out slowly. ]

Do not think that I begrudge you your comforts, Jopson, but do not also expect that I shall share them.

[ Where keeping his feelings off of his face has never been Irving's strong suit, it certainly is a skill that Jopson is well practiced in. He doesn't flinch, even though he's certain that if Irving knew what his comforts actually were, he would begrudge them plenty. No, best not to dwell on that, or draw attention to it. But he chooses his words carefully, sipping his tea to give himself the time to decide how to phrase what he thinks. ]

Certainly, sir. I won't presume to tell you want to do, but I do ask that you be respectful of Mr. Day's comforts as well as mine. He won't take well to being told how best to redeem himself. Best to leave his redemption to me, I think.

[ He pauses, thinking again as he taps his finger against his teacup. ]

And, with all due respect, I've been here a fair bit longer than you have, and I can't speak to any hand but God's in this place. Depending, of course, on how the angels have seen fit to designate you.

[ Irving does flinch, rather like he's just been slapped, pale eyes widening slightly as his hand raises up to his marked neck. "Depending, of course, on how the angels have seen fit to designate you," says Jopson, with no mark at all. It isn't an innocuous comment, but rather weighted down with judgement.

Were this not something Irving already had his own deep concerns over then maybe he'd be less inclined to take it so personally -- and maybe he'd also think a little more about what Jopson might actually be getting at with those comments about Mr. Day -- but it's the thing he's sensitive about, so his instincts do not respond charitably. ]

Then you think I deserve this. [ His voice is low, level, but cold. ] It is your theory that I must also be in need of redemption just like all the rest. Is that right? Pray tell what it is about me, Jopson, that you feel merits such correction in the first place?

[ A dangerous question, probably, but he can't stop himself asking it. ]

Since you're so sure.

[ Charitable instincts are not what Jopson expects from Irving, which very well may be the point. But he is quick to respond in turn, with a shake of his head. ]

I don't think you deserve this. But what I think doesn't really matter. I can't speak to know the mind of God, or his angels, or why this is our afterlife, except that this is where we are. There's nothing I'm sure of but what I've seen with my own eyes. What I am telling you, sir, is that I've not been tortured, and I've not seen anyone punished for what you and I might consider temptation. What I've seen people punished for is resisting judgement, and for greater flaws of character than wanting to be happy.

[ What he does think is that maybe this is a test, of Irving's humility, of his kindness, of his temperament. A test he's already failing. But he doesn't put that thought into words. He knows better. ]

Mr. Hickey is here, in the same position as you, and if I had a choice in the matter I wouldn't put you nowhere near the same rung, I can promise you that.

Why should you be tortured?

[ Irving latches onto that rather than claim the easier bait of arguing in further circles about God's presence (or lack thereof) in this place, a subject they will clearly not be in agreement on anytime soon.

Which, frankly, is hardly the most pressing issue at hand anyway. Irving doesn't need Jopson to agree with him to still feel quite certain in his own assessments, although part of that is pure in-the-moment obstinance; later he may be more agreeable to allowing the possibility they may, in some ways, both be right, but right now his hackles are too far up.

Though he still settles, somewhat, being brought back down to rationality by the mention of their other crewmate. ]

You're about as far from immoral degeneracy as a man comes, Jopson, what is all this talk of... of temptation? Or finding happiness, here?

[ He says it like it's the most absurd thing Jopson's alluded to yet, as if Irving doesn't already have a vague notion of exactly what is meant by it, but he's been trying very hard not to think about it. ]

And as for Mr. Hickey... [ He pauses, fingers curling and uncurling against his palms, before he lets out a heavy sigh. ] He is... confused, but I do not believe him any more beyond redemption than you or I. Differences or not, we are all the three of us have here. While we are apart from everything -- our ships, our seas, our crew -- I consider it especially important we remain... united, as long as we are trapped here. Surely we can agree on this much.

[ For all that Jopson is very good at keeping his opinions to himself, something visibly hardens in his expression as Irving speaks of clemency to Hickey of all people. And if he uses that as an excuse to not address Irving's questions, and not expose his own immoral degeneracy as it were, then all the better for him. He's gone three years without Irving sniffing him out, he's not about to start being obvious about it now. Not yet, anyway. Not until he thinks Irving's ready to hear it.

The hardness of his expression follows through in tone. Hickey is the real problem here, not his own inclinations. ]

I'm sorry sir, but we cannot. Mr. Hickey's not concerned about us being united, I can guarantee it, and his redemption, be it even possible, should not be your concern with what he did to you. Surely...you remember what happened?

It is very much my concern, Jopson.

[ Irving frowns, not necessarily surprised by Jopson's feelings on the matter -- the particular sense of responsibility Irving feels for helping guide the man's journey towards rehabilitation is not one he expects others to understand, but the talk the two of them had had ages back had given him hope it was far from an impossible goal -- but that ominous turn of phrasing: What he did to you. Surely you remember what happened?

What is it that he's meant to be remembering, exactly? He does remember plenty of Hickey's errant rabble-rousing and seditious behavior, not always the worst of it -- meetings he'd been quickly briefed on but not actually present for -- but rather the overall body of it, but still he can think of nothing Hickey's done to him that Jopson might possibly be referring to.

It draws him up cold, making him hesitate. Does he even want to know? ]

Leave it with me, then. Don't involve yourself. But I cannot turn my back, not on any of my men.

[ The hesitation is concerning, and sets him on edge. Thomas Jopson, not even a year ago, would have taken Irving's instruction at face value and kept his mouth shut. He would have stayed very much in his place, and not involved himself any further. The ice changes a man. The haul, the starvation, the responsibility to protect a group in dire need changes a man. So he doesn't keep his mouth shut, and he doesn't back down. Irving is just as much his responsibility as Crozier was, especially with their numbers so low, and especially with Hickey present.

There's a time to be delicate, and there's a time to get to the point of things. They are not likely to have a better time than this to be indelicate. ]

The Captain wanted him to hang for it, and he's the best of all of us. Do you or do you not remember what Hickey did to you?

[ That Jopson isn't letting it alone is concerning to Irving in turn, suggesting something far more serious than any of the previous infractions Irving would already know about. He stares silently, almost fearfully, wide eyes looking as always even wider by virtue of his pale hazel-grey irises.

There are times when John Irving's first instinct is to simply ignore a problem, pretend something never happened, avoid it altogether if he can, and that's exactly what he wants to do now; he's terrified of whatever Jopson might have to tell him, to hear that something was done to him, by Hickey, that had been so loathsome Captain Crozier would have seen Hickey hanged for it.

He doesn't want to know.

His voice is quiet, uneasy, stripped of whatever authority he'd been trying to imbue himself with just a few moments ago: ]

Is this truly something I need to hear, Lieutenant Jopson?

[ He considers, just for a moment, whether Irving can continue on without knowing how he died. If Hickey weren't here...but Hickey is here, and so he nods. Instead of immediately explaining, he stands. He walks over to the kitchen cupboards, removes two tumbler glasses, and then over to another cabinet from which he pulls a bottle of whiskey.

This isn't a conversation for tea and biscuits.

He places both glasses down on the table, and fills them. His own he fills a reasonable amount. Irving's he fills higher, more akin to how Crozier took it when he did still take it. He stops the bottle, and sits. ]

I will spare you the details, so I ask that you tell me if you want to know more, about any of it.

[ His jaw tightens as he thinks about just what needs saying, and he holds his glass in his hands, but doesn't drink just yet. He can't quite meet Irving's eyes, though he tries. ]

Mr. Hickey killed you. And Mr. Farr, but to you he did something awful. He...brutalized you, with no love, no respect. And he used you, to make some of us think the netsilik had done it. He got an old woman and a child killed for it, and made sure none of the rest of us got any help. That's on top of his being a bloody mutineer, trying to undermine the Captain's authority to save his own skin. Never mind the rest of the crew, or that the Captain knew better than him what was what. So he got the lot of us killed too, because of it. He--

[ His grip tightens on his glass, and he catches his bottom lip between his teeth. He looks away, just for a moment. He hasn't told this to anyone, but it's Irving's business as much as it is his. ]

He didn't kill me, but he may as well have. I wouldn't have died if we'd gotten help, I'm sure of it. He doomed all of us with that, not just you. He doesn't give a fig about unity, and you shouldn't give a fig about him.

[ A breathless, grateful sound escapes Irving's throat at the sight of the whiskey, which he accepts with a similar desperate gratitude, his pale face and shaking hands clear evidence of how much he needs it. Irving truly hates the notion of appearing weak in front of any of his men, even Jopson, who following his recent promotion Irving only just outranks, but he can tell already this is nothing he can let himself listen to while sober.

He drinks, spilling a small amount over the table with how his hand won't stop shaking. Mr. Farr. It happened while out on the hunting party, then. That family they'd encountered, who'd so immediately been willing to share food with Irving from their own pocket.

Irving takes a moment to try composing himself, his free hand moving to cover his eyes. ]

The Netsilik family, were they... were they all--?

[ Why that's the first question he asks Irving couldn't say; perhaps because he can't quite process the news about his own death yet, or perhaps because now he wonders how much of this tragedy he's also to blame for. Could he have handled it differently, better somehow? What could have been going through Hickey's mind that he'd murder the only help they'd come across since the Inuit woman herself, salvation that surely even he could have basked in credit for once they'd returned to camp with news?

His own death, like the rest of the crew's, has hung over his head like a dagger ever since their ships first became stuck; circumstances aside, it hardly comes as a surprise to hear it finally confirmed. But hearing that the Netsilik family they'd encountered was killed as well truly shocks him, not least of all for how heartbreaking it seems.

Irving had met them. Exchanged names with them, traded with them, laughed with them. They'd known how to live out there, how to hunt, how to survive, how could they possibly be dead?

He puts the whiskey glass down, both hands over his eyes now, fingers digging at his hairline. ]

I-I can hardly believe it. [ Which isn't to say he disbelieves it, it's just-- it's a lot. To take in. ] And you-- you're quite certain that is how it all happened?

[ For all that the ice had hardened him, watching this hurts. Sometimes hurting is necessary, if it means knowing the truth, and knowing where to go next, but watching it and being the source of it never feels any better for it. When the drink spills, he's got his handkerchief at the ready to clean it up, to be of some use in this moment, beyond bringing ill tidings.

He needs to be useful. He'd been alone when he arrived, and he recognizes his own grief in Irving's. It aches in his chest, unspoken and shoved down into his stomach, because he had been alone. Irving, if he had any say in the matter, will not be alone in this.

He leaves his hands there, with his handkerchief, below Irving's and ready to catch. He takes the glass from him when it comes down, puts it to the side, and rests a hand on Irving's forearm. Sailor's intimacy, a completely different world to the intimacy he'd been so hesitant to give to even Stephen. ]

I am. And they were. Hodgson ordered it--but he's not to blame. He's not the snake in the grass. [ And they both know Hodgson, and they both know his character. No, it's not Hodgson's fault. ] I'm sorry.

[ It's likely none too subtle that Irving's using his hands to hide the fact he's tearing up considerably, fighting hard not to weep in front of Jopson because, even now, he still values the idea of having respect from someone.

But it's not to be. Irving doesn't pull away from the touch nor lean into it, not yet, just sits there with his head in his hands, a shaky sob escaping from him on a breath. ]

N-no... no, it wouldn't have been. Hodgson wasn't there with us, he'd gone... east, I think it was. East. Farr, Hickey, and myself were the ones to encounter the Netsilik, south of where we parted. I-I left them there alone to go make contact on my own, so as not to spook the... the Esquimaux. [ "Left them there" meaning Hickey and Farr; another decision Irving now can't help but question. ] They were harmless, Jopson. We... communicated. There was a man, he was called...

His name was... [ A long pause, and then a sigh. ] I can't even remember it now.

[ Which only breaks him a little further into a soft outpouring of further sobbing. This is all much too much. Not only this news, although certainly mostly this news, but also everything else that's happened even since he's been in Duplicity.

He leans into Jopson's touch slightly now, shaking his head as he uses his own embroidered handkerchief to dab at his eyes and press to his face. ]

I thought it would be to his benefit to come along. Hickey's. That if... if he'd felt more included, like a proper member of the crew, it could be a step towards progress in helping to turn him around. [ Shaking his head again. ] Maybe I am a fool.

[ It's been months since Jopson arrived, and in that it's been months since he let himself cry about any of this. It bubbles up from time to time. He swallows it, brushes it away, refocuses on the here and now. Because he was alone. Watching Irving cry, and hearing a side of the story he had no way of knowing until now, pricks at his eyes and tightens his jaw. It makes him hate Hickey even more, makes the path towards forgiveness even more obscured than it had been before, like dust blown away in the wind.

He pulls his chair closer along the edge of the table, trying not to focus in on everything he's been swallowing and not join Irving in his sobbing, trying to focus entirely on comfort. On being useful.

His hand jumps up to Irving's shoulder, gently squeezing, and he shakes his head. ]

You're not a fool. Oh come here, John.

[ He pulls Irving into a hug, then, holds him close to give him a bit of comfort. ]

You're not a fool. You're a good man, it's not your fault he's rotten.

[ Irving doesn't fight it, collapses into the hug almost weightlessly, damp face pressing to Jopson's shoulder. He can't stop himself now, shoulders shaking, the emotion pouring out of him like a dam breaking. ]

I-I should have... [ What else could he have done? Should he have done? ] I could have done more, Jopson. Much more. Before he became beyond help, he... we spoke, once. Something of a heart-to-heart. I really thought he might have learned something. Listened.

[ It hurts more to think of what happened as a product of his own failures: that if he'd followed up with Hickey after their initial conversation that had left Irving feeling hopeful the other man had wanted to do better, be better, or after Hickey's brutal whipping, the severity of which had been shocking to Irving, who had never before that night actually witnessed a lashing, if he'd done anything more at all, maybe it would have all been different.

Maybe, on the other hand, if he had reported Hickey sooner. He almost wasn't planning to at all, not until Gibson came forward about what Hickey had done to him. Was that alone not damning enough?

He feels all turned around. The Lord says "Blessed are the merciful, for it is they who shall be shown mercy," but knowing what Irving now knows, how can that possibly be right?

It's not so much about Hickey, but Irving's own judgement, his fundamental principles, everything now being brought to question. ]

I don't know what to think now. [ He raises his head to dab at his eyes again. ] About any of it.

[ As Irving sobs, and speaks, and sobs, Jopson holds on tight. He holds him like he would hold his brother. Like he held Crozier during the worst of his withdrawal. Even as the nail gets hammered into Hickey's metaphorical coffin as far as Jopson's opinion is concerned, there is grace, which is an act of love. He doesn't hold on longer than is necessary, lets Irving lift himself away when he needs to regain some dignity, but his hands sit on Irving's shoulders. He wants, above all things, for Irving to know that he's safe here. At least this flat can be a sanctuary. ]

I won't tell you what you should think, as much as I'd like to. What I will do is help you, in whatever way I can. I hope you understand why I had to tell you. Having faith in him will do you more harm than good, and I won't have it. I won't have it.

[ It doesn't take long, before Irving pulls away, but longer that it might normally take, dignity for once -- for the moment -- being almost forgotten. Never for long, not with John Irving, but now more than ever he needs to take this time to simply just grieve; back on the ice there never had been any time for that, especially not for the officers.

When he does pull away it isn't an abrupt, flinching motion, either, just a smooth straightening back up in his chair when it's time for it so he can compose himself, dry his eyes, steadily catch his breath.

The truth is that he both understands and he doesn't, more or less simultaneously, because yes, of course Jopson had to tell him this, but by the same token, Irving didn't want to hear this. He didn't want to know. ]

Thank you, Thomas. [ He doesn't look over at him until he feels he's truly gotten himself back under control, speaking in a soft, humble tone: ] I feel very blessed indeed to have your friendship at a time like this... and here, especially. A man needs brotherhood, should he hope to endure.

[ Endure what, Irving doesn't specify, but in this case he doesn't really need to; the what is implied, all-encompassing.

As for Hickey, he doesn't comment further, because like he said: he doesn't know what to think, and even less does he know what to do, apart from, for now, simply avoiding have to deal with it any more than just having to know it.

Avoidance is easy; Irving's good at it. ]

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