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duplicitymemes2022-01-10 07:43 pm
duplicitymods) wrote in duplicitymemes2022-01-10 07:43 pm
Entry tags:
TDM #22
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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. Winter is here and snow flurries are common in the Up while the slush collects in the Down. |
 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. |
 As a particularly heavy snowstorm blows across the city, Duplicity finds itself blanketed in white. The morning after the storm, many citizens seem to be in a particularly mischievous mood and snowballs are a common sight flying through the air. A projectile meant for someone else may hit you square in the face if you're not careful — and then it's on. Joining these impromptu snow battles is encouraged, no matter a person's designation, and even Submissives teaming up to pelt unsuspecting Dominants with snowballs is generally taken in the spirit of good fun. Not everyone is throwing snow, of course — some are rolling much larger balls and shaping them into lewd snow figures. Those feeling chilled after playing in the snow may experience the urge to warm up with someone else, skin to skin. Whether they're a stranger or a familiar face, holding hands, kissing, or getting down and dirty with the nearest willing partner is invigorating. It might even be the only way to really feel warm again. |
 (cw: aphro, humiliation kink) Want to make some quick cash? After exiting the train in the Down, there seems to be a questionable character hanging about the station. Dressed in a trenchcoat and looking more like a flasher than the businessman he claims to be, this shady recruiter offers easy money in exchange for a simple delivery. Just take a package and drop it off at the address on the label. Really, that's it! Stop asking questions. Should characters decide to open the package themselves instead, they'll discover one of the following: glitter — so much glitter, lube (appears normal, but actually contains hot pepper and will cause more than a mild tingling sensation if used anywhere sensitive), a package of flavored condoms mysteriously labeled "every flavor" (none of them taste good), candy or perfume containing an aphrodisiac that, in addition to the usual libido-boosting effect, will also cause an intense craving for humiliation. It seems to be one of those services that allows one to send anonymous prank gifts, and they're hiding behind LIERs as couriers. There's no return address or company information on or inside the package, except for a card marked Encoded Sin Corp — which does not seem to be a real company if the name is searched. Whether characters end up delivering the package — maybe even to a fellow LIER — or get into some trouble along the way, someone is getting a nasty surprise. |
 (cw: aphro, dubcon, excessive fluids, exhibitionism, public use)A small winter market has been set up along one of the major streets in the Up with stalls selling a variety of goods ranging from knitted hats and scarves, soaps, scented lotions, candles, jewelry, artwork and assorted crafts to hand-dyed bondage rope and kinky leather accessories. Food and drink stands are plentiful as well. Strings of lights crisscross the street between the roofs of the shops, providing a cheerful glow, and there are tables set up in the street itself for people to sit and chat while having a snack — if they can stand the cold. Some of the most popular treats being sold are hot chocolate, eggnog, marshmallow snowmen, and sugar cookies decorated like snowflakes. Of course, their popularity may have something to do with the effects they produce when consumed. • The hot chocolate simply gets one all hot and bothered. • The eggnog may cause heavy production of sexual fluids, a desire to be filled or covered with someone else's cream, or all of the above. • The marshmallow snowmen will make those who eat them want to invite others to use them as they please, desiring nothing more than to be molded into the perfect fucktoy. • The sugar cookies seem to induce all sorts of different cravings — after all, no two snowflakes are alike! These effects tend to last at least an hour and may, in some cases, last up to a full day. One of the jewelry shops sells an unusual selection of compass pendants and bracelets. The compass arrows spin round and round lazily while the pieces are on display. Once worn, however, that changes. The arrow will settle on a direction, but instead of pointing north it will lead directly to another person. Perhaps you should speak to them? You may even begin to feel magnetically drawn to them yourself… In the event that two people have compasses that point them at each other, the attraction will be even stronger — nearly impossible to deny. There is another shop which sells intricately designed pocket watches and small clocks. When these timepieces are stared at for an extended length of time or picked up and handled, characters will feel a brief but strong connection to their past and experience a vivid flashback to some moment that was, in whatever way, meaningful for them. After reliving the memory, they will feel compelled to speak about it to whoever is nearby. |
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 likes it hot, they are a Dominant. If your character prefers the cold, they are a Submissive. 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!! |
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Wherever you're staying, presumably? Unless you've got a better idea, I don't much care.
[ He rolls his eyes, not giving Irving any grace despite the fact that it took him a minute to get a handle on it himself. Stepping close again, to make sure the other can see, he takes the phone from him and puts his number into it, labels it 'RACKHAM'. ]
Press the green button, there, and mine will ring. You'll hear me, no matter the distance.
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Those dorms are not private.
[ He's not sure what else to suggest, though, since otherwise he's staying with... Jopson. Which. No. And he can only imagine it'd be similarly a no-go with Jack's place.
Irving snatches his phone back, putting it away back into his coat pocket. ]
It would have to be someplace else-- maybe a room over a pub, or a... well, it doesn't really matter where, so long as it's not in a shared bedroom with anyone else who's just arrived here looking on at-- at us.
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They don't even give you doors down there? Ugh.
[ He wrinkles his face with an exaggerated shudder - he too, of course, is well accustomed to living in cramped quarters with dozens of other men, but he wasn't expected to make a fuck-quota while doing so. No wonder they're all so eager to get out of there. ]
Whatever suits you. A couple drinks at a pub first might loosen you up.
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[ Truthfully, though, he hadn't stayed too long himself, only got about a night or two's worth of impressions before Jopson dragged him home, so he's really not much more of an expert.
He smiles a bit wryly as he nods again, although he isn't sure why; this isn't a situation for smiling, as if the two of them are actually enjoying each other's company. Maybe it's just that a couple of drinks sounds particularly tempting right now, because after the day he's had he very much longs to no longer be suffering it sober. ]
Have you time for one now? [ Since Irving has no money, nor any other Dominant on hand to ask to escort him into a bar. ] A drink?
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Why not?
[ He pulls the phone out of his pocket to tap out a quick message to Anne, so she doesn't worry he's gotten himself into trouble, or anything. He'll be back with a gift, anyway. ]
Decent one up the road from here, not too glitzy, as they tend to get up here.
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He stands there, waiting for Jack to finish texting before walking alongside him at a measured, reasonable distance-- close enough to converse, but not close enough to touch. Officer habits die hard; he stands on things like performance and ceremony. ]
Just so long as they serve spirits there, the quality of drink is of no major concern to me. [ Just get him drunk, he doesn't care on what. Except: ] And that it be anything but rum.
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Jack's always been well attuned to the theater of it all. It's what drew him to New Providence Island in the first place, what helped him to survive in a world full of stronger, harder men. He knows the value of a good story. ]
No rum? [ There's just as much of it as water, where Jack's here from. He can't imagine. ] They'll have whatever you want, I'm sure.
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So, Irving would certainly drink rum, but he'd much rather fancy a change if he can get one. ]
Something strong. [ He dusts some snow from his hair as they approach the pub entrance. ] That's all I'm after.
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Hold on. [ Jack grabs him by the arm, turns him so he can look him square on, before they pass over the doorway. He makes a motion at his chin with a smug grin on his face. ] You've got a bit of...something in your beard, still.
[ Is he just noticing this now? Of course not. ]
Order what you want. Suppose I owe you that much.
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[ Irving's face pales as his hands both fly up to his chin, neurotically shaking out and scrubbing at his beard like he's trying to rid it of bugs instead before he tugs his scarf up over his chin. Just in case.
(Why had he not considered his beard when he-- oh, right, because while he'd temporarily lost his mind, a whore took over instead.)
He hisses, voice at a volume just loud enough to be heard despite the scarf now halfway hiding his mouth: ]
You should have said something. [ And then lowers the scarf slightly so Jack can take another look, whispering: ] Do I look that unseemly?
[ Irving nearly collapses into the nearest stool or booth they pass by, trying (though slightly failing) not to become flustered to the point of distraction by staring desperately at the drinks menu, even though barely any of the listed drinks mean a thing to him. What in Heavens is a daiquiri? Or a Bloody Mary...? Long Island Iced Tea? ]
I-I'll just-- whatever you're having.
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You look fine. Actually. [ He reaches out to smooth Irving's hair, looking a bit...fingered through, still. ] There you are.
[ Jack's still under the impression that anything that sounds fancy is probably drugged, so he keeps it simple. Whiskey, double, neat. Does the trick, and the quality of the stuff is better than what he's used to. Nice to have some flavor and not just burn. ]
You settled in yet?
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(And no, the irony inherent there has not particularly dawned on him yet, but that also might be deliberate; who wants to surrender the blissful, carefree manner that liquor so reliably provides?)
He fingers at his beard a little bit more as if undoing whatever damage Jack might have done to it, although it's more an idle, nervous gesture than anything else. Irving has a complicated relationship with touch, particularly when it's unexpected. ]
Thank you, [ he murmurs, meant to be about the whiskey rather than the beard-stroking ] It's been an age since I last tasted any fine whiskey.
[ He drinks deep of it, savoring both the flavor and the burn, the numb, cozy cloud it hangs over his thoughts like a blanket. ]
Much too well, I suspect. [ Another sip, tongue grazing over his lips. ] As you would know better than anyone.
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[ England's probably taken New Providence back by his time. The idea would have been much more distressing to Jack a few months ago, but knowing what he knows now, that he gave them enough hell that they speak his name a century down the line, he's not as concerned as he used to be. It was never meant to be a permanent way of life. Civilization will knock down all in its path. Like he needs more to be resentful about. ]
Getting a fuck in doesn't mean you're comfortable. Clearly. [ Gesturing at Irving's entire being with his glass in his hand, before taking a deep swig for himself. ] I'm not bailing you out of the zoo, so I hope you've got a plan to figure out the way of things. Contracts, your new station, all of that.
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[ Already having drained about half (if not slightly more) of his glass, Irving drinks down more of his whiskey, feeling his tension and stress finally beginning to lift-- if still only just temporarily, but is it still ever overdue. ]
I'll likely be making arrangements with Jopson. It seems only practical that we not allow this setback to divide us even further. [ Will it be awkward? Yeah... maybe. Probably. But he has to make decisions like a leader. ] I am not helpless, Rackham. Do not concern yourself as if I am.
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[ Jack was only ever in the Navy as a quick escape and a free ride elsewhere, there were no exotic and interesting locales for him. Ferrying supplies for the war with Spain, mostly, would have been unbearably boring without the card scams on the side. No clear turquoise or palm trees until he got them all besieged by pirates on purpose. ]
Good. That was a warning, that my aid only extends as far as your quota. [ And whiskey. ] And you'd be wise not to let him know about that, or you'll be out on the streets.
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[ It would be nice to go back someday, even just to Australia, or better yet to see more of the world (especially the Caribbean), although Irving knows that's a pipe dream; the odds of him and the rest of the Terror/Erebus crews making it back from the Arctic alive were hovering barely above zero even before he'd woken up here, and then obviously just being in Duplicity at all suggests rather strongly that he, at least, has indeed somehow died.
Honestly, that thought doesn't bother him as much as it could. He fears Hell, yes, fears the unknown, fears a great many other things in kind, but not death itself. Death is an inevitability; a deliverance, even. Or at least it should have been.
He drinks down more whiskey, his freshly flushed face and slightly glassy eyes as much proof of his increasing tipsiness as his rapidly draining glass is, then blinks at Jack in bleary, momentary confusion. ]
Let him know about... what, about you? [ Irving actually laughs at the idea. ] Well, of course not-- why on Earth would I? The man would never look at me the same again... if at all, and certainly not in the eye.
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[ Not to get homesick, or anything, but Hickey's stories about freezing in the Arctic have made him especially nostalgic for it. Jack waves the bartender over for another round. Irving seems like a lightweight. ]
Classic navy hypocrisy, then. [ Not to go blurting other people's business... ] I know you won't tell. On purpose. But the moment you're reminded of me because the two of you have to share the elevator with a couple of men going at it, you'll get all skittish and impossible not to read.
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[ Irving's chin tips upward slightly as he tries to imagine it, the descriptions alone nearly as intoxicating as the whiskey; he's never been to the tropics, not even to the Sandwich Islands, but like most men -- particularly in the Navy, and especially particularly in the Discovery Service -- he does have a few romantic notions of what a life lived down there must be like. What John Irving himself would actually do with "freedom," he hasn't a clue, but still, it sounds nice enough.
Not that he really minds snow, necessarily, or at least not normally, but it's likely not too hard to understand why his mind may have been recently changed on the subject.
And yes, he is a bit of a lightweight, though it also helps that the whiskey is strong -- normally it takes Irving two or three glasses to start feeling as tipsy as he's already feeling now -- and that he's only been drinking heavily watered down spirits for the past year or so. ]
That will never happen. [ Drunk(ish) or not, Irving sounds confident. ] Not as you describe it. Jopson would never assume such a thing about me.
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[ He knows the answer to that already, thanks to Hickey, but that's a reveal to keep close to his chest for a while. Let him squirm, let him drink, maybe it'll get something interesting out of him.
Does it count as sailing, even, if they're stuck in the ice? ]
He can be dense, though, I'll grant you that. A sort of...willful cluelessness, about him.
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[ Now he lowers his voice, more to stage-whisper levels: ]
A sodomite.
[ It's a very well-kept secret... in his head. One of the best parts about repression is the inherent sense of subtlety that comes with it (right??), although if Irving were to think about this more rationally (which he never, ever will) it might occur to him that if anyone else on the ship already had guessed as much, it would almost certainly be 1) Hickey and 2) Jopson.
He drinks deep again from his refilled glass, which brings back a bit of the color that had moments before just drained from his face. ]
And you hardly had to assume it, did you, seeing as I allowed you to [ (quickly lowering his voice again:) ] bugger me!
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Oh, calm down, won't you? It's getting tedious. If you were honestly that torn up about it, you wouldn't be sitting here having a drink with me after the fact. You don't have to stay so committed to this little performance of yours for my sake.
[ Jesus Christ. And Anne thought he was being stupid about all the shit with Charles. He can't help but roll his eyes and drink deep in turn, laying the glass down with more force than, honestly, is really necessary. ]
You did. Because I had you figured out. Which is clearly something that you liked.
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When his hands lower again, one curving back around to hold his drink while the other simply sits against the table, fingers fidgeting, opening and closing restlessly. ]
Do not flatter yourself in thinking that anything I do is for your sake. [ But really: Irving knows, Jack knows, so what is the use in pretending otherwise? ] I've never known before what I would do should anyone ever recognize this... deviancy within me... yet I wonder now, if perhaps some part of me was glad for it after all. Grateful to be seen.
[ Does that even make sense...? That makes no sense. He is clearly already drunker than he thought. Irving shakes his head. ]
I'm not like you. I don't know how to be... [ He sighs. ] Truly free.
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I hadn't set out that day to wrangle the deviancy out of anyone. I only saw the truth of you, and pushed you to admit it.
[ One ringed finger taps softly against his glass. Not quite a lie, but no, it wasn't as altruistic as that. He takes another swig before he continues. ]
It's important for a man to be able to adapt. That is the only way to survive. You go to war, you learn to fight. You go to the Arctic, you bring a fucking coat, even if the wool makes you itch. You come to Duplicity, you...learn to embrace your desires, it's part and parcel. [ Shit, he's only been here a few months himself. Jack's no expert, it's just not the first time he's had to reinvent himself to suit new surroundings. His whole life's been like that, up and down and all around, metamorphizing from one form to the next. ] I don't know how much Jopson has told you, but this place will have your head twisted into such a state you won't know which way is up. If you can't face who you are on a good day, Irving, you're going to have more pressing issues than I could ever cause you.
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He shakes his head slowly, his next drink more measured and thoughtful than his other desperately quick gulps have been up to now. ]
But why would you? Why... [ Trailing off, before it finally occurs to him (very belatedly) his question may require some clarification: ] How does it benefit you, that I should admit to a truth so appallingly shameful? Do you truly consider this a kindness you are showing me?
[ In a way, perhaps, as the dull throb in Irving's groin that still remains from not having gotten off before is quick and keen to remind him, but in the broader sense... no, Irving would not agree that this is the sort of truth that sets people free.
Irving would consider himself adaptable -- within reason -- and definitely resourceful, but it would also not be untrue to say he's still a good ways off for having taken to sailor life the way someone of his experience and years given to the Service should have by now; the number of things that, per voyage, have semi-regularly had him scurrying, scandalized, up and down ladders, or just clutching his metaphorical pearls, would probably be hilarious to Jack. Even Jopson looks almost coarse and rowdy compared to how uptight Irving can oftentimes be. ]
Consider, Rackham: if a sodomite never acts upon those deep, sinful desires he may harbour, and instead only seeks out the company of women when he is in need of fulfillment of that particular nature, then can he indeed still even be called a sodomite at all?
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[ Jack begins softly, considering his words carefully. He's always been somewhat of a politician, as pirates are concerned, but he's usually dealing with bumbling, illiterate drunkards. Swaying an educated man, predisposed towards shame instead of pleasure, requires stretching a muscle he hasn't used in quite a while. He has to tread lightly, but not appear as if he's treading lightly, like the outcome actually matters to him one way or another. ]
...is something that is put upon you. I know that you have been taught differently, but listen to me. [ Jack leans forward, elbows on the table, looking him in the eye. ] It isn't natural, to feel shame for something which harms no one. If all involved enjoyed themselves, then whatever shame you feel is coming from outside influences, that want you to feel as if you are less-than, so that they can manipulate you into seeking their good graces once again. Those forces will do nothing but exploit you, send you to your hopelessly miserable, frozen death, on the off-chance you find something that might make them a profit.
[ The irony isn't lost on him, given his minor(?) meltdown the month before, but that was a little more nuanced than whether he likes men at all or not. Jack's not entirely optimistic that Irving will take it to heart at all, but as long as he believes that Jack's the only one who knows, he's in the best position to plant that seed. ]
You're a sodomite. I'm a sodomite. Half of the men in this damn city are sodomites, and the earth hasn't been cleaved in two beneath our feet, the clouds have not covered us in a flood of holy wrath, lightning hasn't stricken anyone down. It simply does not matter.
[ It's as close to a pep talk as he's going to get. If nothing else, he'll know that Jack isn't going to shame him for it, unless he's into that. ]
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