duplicitymemes | TDM #25

Entry tags:

«tdm

TDM #25

« « « 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 LIEs 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 LIEs 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 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 for all new and past arrivals.

Skies are clear and the weather is warm.

» » » 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.

« « « SUMMER SPECIAL

(cw: aphro/drugs)

LIEs has once again partnered with a local coffee chain, Peek-A-Brew, to promote their summer menu and help play matchmaker among those in the program. 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 iced coffee, tea, and lemonade and a discount on any other menu items. Seasonal specials include fruity parfaits and popsicles in a variety of refreshing flavors.

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, contact with the paper brings on an inexplicable sense of curiosity about meeting their partner and discovering who they really are.

« « « BEAT THE HEAT

(cw: aphro, temporary body changes)

With summer heat building, the natives are looking for a reprieve from the sweltering weather. All manner of frozen treats are being sold and consumed and it's not uncommon to see Submissives fanning their Dominants as they walk down the street or ride the train.

Sprinkler systems are running day and night in North Park and other city-owned patches of green and plenty of people are taking the opportunity to run and jump through the spray with little care for soaked clothing — or perhaps they aren't wearing clothing at all. Others have taken up squirting one another, as well as whoever is passing by, with water guns or hurling water balloons at anyone who looks like they need to cool down. Especially on the streets near the park, it's a wet and wild battle royale and all are welcome to join in.

Getting hit with some of those colorful water balloons and squirt guns temporarily causes those who get splashed to taste like sweet, mouth-watering summer fruits. It's not just their skin either — the effect extends to their sweat, saliva, and even sexual fluids and can last for several hours. Those around them will find it hard to resist having a taste.

« « « HANG ON TO YOUR HATS

(cw: violence, public nudity/exposure)

If you're out on the streets of the Down, it's not just your wallet you have to worry about losing. It seems that one of the local gangs, the Bulldogs, has set a new test for their junior members and those hoping to join: steal an article of clothing right off the body of someone in a public place. From snatching the hat off their head to slicing the shirt off their back, it's anything goes!

These junior initiates quickly get competitive, one-upping each other on who can complete the task in the most ballsy or outrageous manner. Some compete over who can collect the most clothing, either certain articles or overall, or who can score a full set first.

As word spreads and more people are going around suddenly missing part of their outfits, the Sparrows, a rival gang, decide to get in on the action purely for bragging rights. Rather than taking the clothing by force, they pride themselves on using stealth and trickery, leaving more than a few people naked and confused.

« « « 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 the assignments are OOCly 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 is more of an optimist, they are a Submissive. If your character is more of a pessimist, 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

The whole vibe is just off, and Eliot feels himself just giving into it for the sake of wanting the confusion to ease up a little. Quentin's being particularly firm about it too, which would have been a whole other thing if they hadn't been having this conversation where he was on the wrong side of it. So, drawing in a steady breath, he downs the rest of whatever's in his cup before dropping it unceremoniously into the hands of someone passing by. Before they can protest, he steps forward and gently takes Quentin by the arm to pull him along.

The middle of the street isn't a good place for this.

"Isn't that what I said?" It's not, actually, but it might as well have been. Eliot can practically feel the look Quentin might be giving him at that though. "Alright. Okay – I promise. Whatever it is, you can just say it. The suspense is literally going to kill me if you keep holding it in."

That, and he really doesn't know what to do with people when they keep crying the way Quentin obviously wants to.

Quentin was ready to point out that was was categorically not what Eliot said, glaring up at one of his stupid sideburns, when he caved. Okay, so he was at least capable of meeting Quentin in the middle a little bit. That was good.

He switched the grip so he had a hand on Eliot's back and he directed them, turning toward the park nearby -- what passed for one in the Down. There would be benches there where they could sit, and while people who didn't know battle magic might be safe there, he and Eliot could go undisturbed.

"So, um." He glanced around them, checking for anything obvious to look out for. "So...it's like 2019, for me," he said, and gave the month, so Eliot would know exactly how much further ahead Quentin was. "We, uh...not too long after you took the throne in Fillory, we...did something that caused magic to be taken away. So we wanted to fix it, right? We were on this quest for seven keys that would bring back magic."

There was a bench, so Quentin sat, folding a leg under himself and starting to cast a protective ward around them, something that would prevent anyone from getting within ten feet. He did not want to get struck by a fucking clothes bandit right now. "You and I had to go on this one part of the quest alone. There was a puzzle to solve, in Fillory."

Yes, the park is a little dour and somewhat sad, but that really isn't at the top of his list of concerns at the moment. If there's a future where Quentin is just on the edge of commanding like this, Eliot's curious enough about it to follow along, very much aware of his surroundings. Of Quentin and that hand against his back.

"Seven keys. Right." He doesn't sound so disbelieving of that. Just exhausted, a reluctant sort of acceptance that has come with dealing with all of the problems Fillory has as a kingdom that's his responsibility to handle. There's barely a glance as the ward settles into place. (He really misses his flask right now.) "There's always a puzzle to solve or some problem that needs someone's attention. What's so special about this one?"

His tone is even, that sort of blase quality that he's adapted discussing these sorts of things. He'd told Quentin he promised to believe him, but there's some part of him that's suddenly wary about all of this. What would it reveal about him? About them? Eliot sits with just enough space between him and Quentin to be polite, both hands resting on the bench as he waits for that answer to come.

Quentin took a deep breath. "So, another of the keys sent us to the puzzle. They did that a lot. But it sent us into the past, like decades before the Chatwins even got there. So we...we started working on it. And we worked and we worked and we..."

Quentin swallowed hard and licked his lips, looking down instead of at Eliot. "On our first anniversary of working on it, I kissed you. And you, um. You kissed me back. And we..." He sighed like he was going to cry again, glancing off to the side somewhere, but he controlled it. "I had a wife for a minute, but she...left or died, and Teddy was, he was our son. Yours and mine. We were there for fifty years doing this stupid puzzle and then you. Um, you died?" he said, glancing up at Eliot for the first time. "And that was, um. Well. The key to the puzzle was 'the beauty of all life.' And as I was digging a grave for you, you know. I found the last piece of the puzzle, and it turned into the key."

He cleared his throat and tossed his head. "So I arranged for a letter to be sent to Margo, the same day we left. So she found the key, where it was in the current timeline, then came and stopped us from going. But we, um. We got the memories back, somehow, of that...time, that fifty years."

It's a blur of information, always, but it's the little things that strike out at him. A kiss, a son, a life with Quentin Coldwater, this dorky, somehow exceedingly tenacious Magician who's upturned his world yet again with all the things Eliot doesn't know. Or hasn't figured that he'd wanted. He'd sort of settled into the idea of fatherhood after learning of Fen's pregnancy, but this is —

More. So much more.

His hand grips at the back of the bench. "I think," he begins, certain he believes him but needing more than just those harrowing seconds to digest it all, "I need to sit down."

But he's already sitting, and vertigo is a very real thing, like a bender on the other side of the fun, eyes a bit wider than usual and his expression a bit too blank to be readable. Okay. Eliot exhales and forces himself to loosen his hold, slowly turning to look in Quentin's direction. His memory of this man in any sort of intimate way is blurred by an emotional hangover and too much alcohol, but he's always felt... something. Something that eventually equates to a fairytale of a lesson that has left Quentin unable to look him in the eye or even speak to him for weeks unless on his own time.

Good. This will just be a completely normal conversation then. Exactly what he'd been expecting in another universe.

"And you're saying, what? We had this magical life together that really didn't mean anything in the end? Or is that something we still have sans some kid in the real world?" His voice is shaky, confusion pent-up in a way that almost sounds as if he's lashing out when all he wants is to understand.

Quentin shrugged, looking away again. "I wanted us to be together in the real world," he said. "You didn't. You didn't really explain it, you just said..."

Quentin trailed off, pressing his lips together. No point. No point reliving that, it would only hurt both of them and Eliot probably wouldn't be able to say anything that would heal it. So he shook his head.

"Doesn't matter. We weren't together. Anyway, we finished the quest and we let magic back in. But we also let in this...monster. This thing the Old Gods made that's more powerful than ten regular gods, and...and it doesn't do anything but want. It's on the emotional level of a baby except it can kill people or break bones by twitching a finger. And it doesn't have its own body, so it...possessed yours."

He was suddenly going to cry again, but he fought it. Instead he had to reach out, grabbing Eliot's hand and squeezing it, hard. "I'm going to save you," he said, firmly. "There's a plan. I'm gonna get it out of you and you're gonna be...hurt, but it'll be gone, you'll be fine. I'm gonna save you," he said again, voice breaking into a whisper at the end, and he looked away. He knew Eliot didn't want to deal with him crying, so he let go and turned his back again as he pressed a hand over his eyes, tried to get himself under control. He ached for a time when his tears would have had Eliot pulling him close, tucking his chin over Quentin's head and stroking his hair, just...

God. What a cruel fucking trick this was.

He doesn't know what to say to heal any of this now. And there's more? Of course there's more, shoulders sagging a little at the very idea of gods and possession and all of everything he'd rather try to avoid. But running away from it all hadn't exactly gotten him anywhere, and indulging really hadn't been the answer either.

There's also a sharp, painful moment when Eliot recalls what it had felt like to be on the receiving end of not having been remembered, moments erased and gone without warning, and though it's not exactly fifty years worth of time, it's something. It has to be, he thinks, or whatever this is won't turn out well, and he's not sure a small place like this (comparatively) is going to make it easy to skirt around one another. They'd met in that bar despite Quentin wanting to keep his distance, so that tells him all he needs to know.

Maybe he's grown enough not to run away from his problems, numbed from the squeeze of Quentin's hand and how he just turns from him. Not so much dismissive as it is accepting of the fact he's already decided Eliot's response before he's even given it.

"Hey." His voice is thick, like he's having trouble parsing what he wants to say. What else is there to say? How can he fix something that he hasn't lived yet? "I know you'd do whatever you could. I believe you." God, and even he can hear the 'but' in those words. "But that's then, and all of this is now. You have a life here," there's a wave of his hand, "I met your Dominant, by the way. Really knows how to make strangers warm up to her in a hot, subtly threatening sort of way." He digresses. There's a sigh. "And I just show up in the middle of that at the wrong time. From the wrong time."

Eliot pauses, contemplating, and he slowly reaches out towards Quentin, fingers sliding over his arm. Just a touch, to hold on to him.

"Did you even want to see me?"

Somehow it helped, that Eliot believed him. Believed in him. Had faith that he was going to do whatever he could. Had faith that he would succeed, at any cost.

He gave a watery little giggle at the mention of Hope. "Yeah, she's, um. She's like that."

He took a deep breath and turned to face Eliot again, capturing that hand from his arm in both of his and settling it in his lap. (His brain made him Very Aware that that put Eliot's hand a few scant inches from his dick but wow was it not the time for that.) "It's hard. It's really hard. I did want to see you," he said, nodding as he looked down at their joined hands. "I tried really hard not to want to see you, because I think I thought my life here would be easier, if I could...could shrug you off, I guess." He shook his head. "But I can't. I probably never will." He sighed, frowning at it.

He lets him take his hand and doesn't pull away, even as he glances down at the way they touch. Denying that there hadn't been anything between them since the beginning would be a lie, but his feelings on the matter are weirdly complicated. Giving Quentin something he doesn't even have in him to give is monumentally difficult, realizing that words and actions are going to tie them together even more intimately than he's prepared to deal with right now.

Show up in a new universe? Fine. Show up in some sex-fueled daydream with someone saying you'd presumably loved each other for half a century? Not a great start to any of this.

"If there's anything –" He sighs too, mouth thinning slightly. "If I can do something to make it easier, I'll try." Eliot's a hundred percent certain he could never be the Eliot Quentin remembers or needs though. "It's not a promise that you'll feel better, but it'd be a work in progress?"

Quentin nodded. "I appreciate that," he said quietly. "It...I don't know if you can do anything, but it...means a lot that you'd offer," he said, glancing up to give Eliot a little smile.

He blew out a quick breath, shaking his head. "I think maybe, um. I think the easiest thing is if we just, um. Try to be friends?" His eyes as he glanced up at Eliot were big and sad, but he tried for another smile anyway. "Maybe, um. Maybe just. I think maybe we've probably, uh, given each other enough to fucking process, for tonight. But maybe tomorrow we'll...I dunno. Get some coffee or something. Talk. You can tell me about exactly what's going on, in the time you're from," he said, glancing around them. "I can tell you about my life here, about Hope, and...and answer any questions you might still have about the place, that kind of thing."

Another breath, deep and steadying. "I don't...I'm not ever gonna be able to pretend that I don't. That I don't have...the feelings I have," he said. "But as long as you know that, and as long as you can believe that I'm, that I'll do my best to, like, take you for who you are and not...not who you'll be in a couple of years, then. Then we can, you know. Maybe build something new. You know?"

He looked up at Eliot, eyes wide and hopeful. He didn't know if any of this was plausible, maybe it would turn into a train wreck within two days. But it was the best idea he had right now.

More words, more talking.

Eliot's almost zoned out at this point, a little distant in his own head even as it comes winding down to what he thinks is also probably best: space. More space than this, though he still can't bring himself to draw his hand back because it feels... too much. All of this is overwhelming in a way nothing in his life had ever been, even when he'd learned what he was and what he could do, and he doesn't have the capacity to fully process it all right now. At least he's still sitting, he thinks. God, he really needs to not be in his body right now.

"Friends. Uh huh." Not that any of that had really changed for Eliot, but there's a different sort of connotation to it now. For Quentin, anyway. "So we can just meet tomorrow like any other day that doesn't happen to be us trapped in kink city, and go from there." He's not really asking so much as confirming, and then, slowly, finally, he pulls his hand back and pretends to not notice how quickly the warmth seeps away. Instead, he gently and almost awkwardly pats Quentin's shoulder. "Okay. Good talk."

But rather than get up and speed walk away like he'd originally planned, he just sits there with his shoulders pulled forward a little.

Quentin sighed, frowning as he looked Eliot over. He could see that Eliot was in pain now, and he likewise wished he could do something to make it easier. He was hunched like there was a physical weight on him.

He almost thought better of it, but Quentin said fuck off to his brain and pulled Eliot into a hug. Tight, warm, honest. There was nothing sexual or romantic in it, at least not for Quentin, just...hugging a friend. A friend who obviously needed one, and Quentin needed one too, so why the fuck not?

"It's really good to see you," he said quietly.

It's odd to think that he can't remember the last time someone's actually done this for him. Between the meetings and ruling and trying to keep the lights on in Fillory, there hadn't been room for it, and maybe that's why he'd felt inclined to get lost in all the booze and sex this city had to offer the first week he'd been there. But this? This isn't the same as all that.

The embrace is a little awkward considering how they're sitting, but Eliot leans into it, eyes falling shut as he slides an arm around Quentin. Just to hold him there, to steady himself. If he tilts his head to rest it against Quentin's, he doesn't even notice it.

"I know." Because, despite everything, he feels the same way.

Quentin just settled there for a minute. He kept hugging Eliot until his hip started to complain, then pulled back with a sigh, running a hand briefly down his shoulder.

"Tomorrow. Or whenever you want," he corrected. "Coffee. Yeah?"

It's always those little touches, remembering that he needs to keep it friendly, and in the end, there's that awkward sort of pat again. This time at Quentin's side where his hand rests.

"Tomorrow," he agrees, thoughts still scattered. "If it's too early, you're buying." But he might just be buying anyway.

Quentin laughed a little at that. "Oh, you're gonna make your poor oppressed sub friend buy, huh?" he asked with a grin. It felt good to make a joke, even if, honestly, they were probably both aware of how much being a dominant would not have suited Quentin. Even without any threesome memories to pull from, you never met a more 'take me home and take care of me' bitch.

"I don't see anyone else willing to do it." But there's a considerable pause as he draws away, finding that he suddenly needs the space. "Or we seduce the barista and get it for free. I'm sure that's just as good as whatever currency there is here."

Eliot means it in a goodnatured kind of way, seeing absolutely nothing wrong with this plan. In fact, it's one of the better ones he's had all day.

"Sucking a barista's dick for coffee would definitely not be the weirdest reason I've ever sucked dick," Quentin said easily. Back at Brakebills he might have stammered over any word pertaining to sex, but here, there was really super no room for that.

Is it too soon to ask what the weirdest reason is?

Eliot decides that, yes, it is and spares Quentin the Q&A. Instead, all he does is smile that quaint little smile of his and scoot away, increasing the distance with all the subtlety he has left to offer right now. His head is still spinning with too many details to really think straight.

"I guess there might be some hope for you then. But seduction doesn't always mean sucking anything unless you really want to." Food for thought, Quentin. "Where are we meeting?"

Quentin almost pointed out that he basically always wanted to suck a dick, but better sense finally kicked in and he shut the fuck up instead.

"There's a place called Les Beans, Hope owns it," Quentin said. "Then it can really be on me cause she doesn't make me pay," he added with a grin.

He shouldn't be surprised, and there's a joke to be made about all of this. Still, he refrains and gets to his feet. The urge to run away is very much there and rather strong now.

"I'm sure it can't be too hard to find. Just," there's the briefest moment he takes to look Quentin over, "send a message when you're ready."

And hopefully, he'll answer.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

TDM #25

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject