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duplicitymemes2025-07-10 11:44 am
duplicitymods) wrote in duplicitymemes2025-07-10 11:44 am
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TDM #43
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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 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. Submissives are provided with a plain black pleather collar to wear and Dominants are given bracelets made of the same black pleather. The simple design is an immediate visual indicator that they have not yet signed a contract and they will be informed that more elaborate or personalized styles are a privilege reserved for those who do. Enjoy your free time until Orientation! Participation is mandatory for all new and past arrivals. The full heat of Summer is in full swing, but there is a pleasant breeze that comes off the sea, bringing with it much needed relief from the warmth of the sun. |
 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. |
 (cw: random kink, behavioral modification) The oppressive heat of summer eases its grip on Duplicity with a cool breeze blowing in from the sea. A soothing wind rushes through the Up and the Down, bringing a blanket of cool that should help chill any hot tempers spiking around the new requirements for local businesses. While wet t-shirt contests and flashy pool parties start to wind down, people find the weather more agreeable and spend more and more time outdoors. Orientation adjusts accordingly, with LIEs deciding to use the weather to their advantage when it seems like people just can't seem to stay indoors for long. The basics of Orientation still happen at the Center, but they decide to incorporate a little outside time and arts and crafts into the mix. Characters will find themselves paired with someone of the opposite designation for a quick but fun bonding activity: kite-building and kite flying. Pairs are given a somewhat unhinged instruction sheet, a set of curated crafting materials, and one hour to build a Compatibility Kite. Most of the materials are basic and typical for simple kite making, but some of them may raise eyebrows: silk fabric, bold red ribbons, black lace… Meanwhile, the instructions for both building and flying the kite are vague, but oddly intimate: Hold tension while knotting., Maintain eye contact and hold your partner steady., Position your body behind your partner for better reach... While the design of the kite is completely up to the participants, LIEs does provide one requirement. Pairs are asked to choose one from several lively colored kite tails to tie to each completed kite. Each one has a single word printed in bold, glimmering text, such as: OBEDIENCE, PRAISE, CONTROL, EDGE, ROPE, PATIENCE, PASSION, SLEEP, CONTRITION, FAITH, SPICE, and more. There's no explanation as to what these mean or how they must be chosen, just that one word should be tied to their project. After an hour, all characters are brought outside, onto a bus, and to Chicanery Beach. Under the watchful eye of LIES staff who keep their distance from the shoreline, everyone gets to let their kites fly! Getting one up into the air is a two-person job, so work together and get it up into the sky without crashing into others. Hopefully it works, because anyone who can't seem to get it up or crash a little too soon will be given strict notice to attend Orientation all over again. Those whose kites successfully sail into the sky will get a check on their names. But as the words on the kite tails unfurl and flutter through the wind, characters will find themselves imbued with the desire and drive to embody or put the trait on their kite into practice: with their partner, or with anyone they may next encounter. This desire lingers past sunset and can last well over a week until one isn't sure if it's an artificial influence or something they'd truly wanted all this time. |
 (cw: pheromones, scents, stalking, dub-con, exhibitionism, breeding kink, stuffing, size kink, sexual exhaustion, rough sex, gags, biting, marking) The winds persist throughout the summer, and they bring more than just the scent of salt and sunscreen through the air. As July makes its way into August, a very subtle change descends on everyone: for an indiscernible reason, everyone's pheromones seem to surge, and everyone will look irresistibly attractive. For those with the senses and skills to pick it up, it will be as if characters exude a different aura entirely, just begging to be bred or fucked. For others who can't tell - it manifests instead as distinct, vaguely familiar and very attractive scents that carry over the wind. Characters will have one or two scents that are most obvious and most irresistible to them. Catching just a whiff of these scents will have them follow their trails all over the Up and the Down until they find who is waiting at the source, someone they will feel the need to throw themselves at. But since people don't know what scent they themselves are giving off, they may not even know why they're being pursued even if they can tell that someone has been following them. Unbeknownst to everyone, certain scents will have specific influences that take effect on either (or both!) person once they finally meet. - Cinnamon: The need to fuck them in front of a mirror or a window, or anywhere that their reflection can be seenActing on the influence at least once will satisfy the need… for a time. The scents can always rile a person up all over again. Maybe a perfume or an artificial scent will mask them, at least for a while, but soon the pheromones will overpower any attempts to hide them. |
 (cw: personality shift, behavior modification, dom/sub behaviors) A new trend makes its way to Duplicity's native shopkeepers and citizens alike in the Up and Down: wind chimes to hang up on their patios, windows, and balconies. The chimes are black and white in design, many of them sporting artful swirls and spirals that clink and ring in the wind. There doesn’t seem to be anything dubious about the chimes upon first glance, but the more one hears them, the more their effects become apparent. While not everyone seems affected, those who are susceptible to the bell-like sounds will find that the larger, lower frequency chimes amplify a person’s worst trait while the smaller, higher frequency wind chimes do the opposite, amplifying an individual’s best personality trait instead. However, unbeknownst to anyone, some of the chimes are dupes (hah) smuggled in from the neighbouring city of Insincerity, the black and white spiral motifs seeming to move and swirl even when they remain still. Their effects are a little different, as they cause Dominants to act subservient and Submissives to act haughty and demanding of their betters. All these effects are short-lived and last no more than an hour. But considering the prevalence of the chimes throughout the city, the potential for erratic personalities is increased tenfold. More alarmingly, it seems that no one is safe from the effects of the twisted contraband chimes. People - LIERs and natives alike - who act out of designation may be approached by LIES or SIN guards with stern warnings or threats of taking them to Realignment at the SLUT Center, and they take any explanation in good faith. |
» » » TLDR
So, what's happening?UP AND AWAY
FOLLOW YOUR NOSE
NOTES ON THE WIND
|
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 prefers grand gestures, they are a Submissive. If your character prefers small surprises, 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 tag on 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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[He doesn't wear cologne. Even his cosmetics and toiletries are as scentless as possible, now that he makes his own these days; it's important that he can hide from his prey as easily as possible. The only scents that should cling to him are where he's been, what he's handled, and..... himself, living and breathing, uniquely him. So if it's coming from everyone, including him, and probably isn't from any natural outside influence..... what does that mean?
Rook closes his eyes and focuses, chest rising under Leona's hand as he pulls in a deep breath. He can smell green growing things, freshly scuffed earth, the faint sweetness of flowers nearby, a light but alluring hint of musk..... Is that Leona's cologne? It's nice, he has to admit. It suits him. Even so, that still doesn't answer his question. Is this something influencing everyone that Leona is reacting to, or is it something influencing Leona, changing how he perceives people? Given how often they've had their senses altered, had magical compulsions pushed onto them, even had their memories manipulated and entirely made up out of whole cloth.....
Wait. There is one explanation that would fit everything he knows so far. Rook's eyes snap open, the wheels starting to turn as he stares up at Leona.]
This is artificially-induced rut, isn't it? This whole city constantly runs on sex, of course everyone would smell like they're permanently in heat.
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That's what it is,
[he grumbles, dragging his hand down Rook's side, gripping at Rook's hip in an attempt to keep himself from going further. he squirms just a touch, and ultimately decides to shift altogether, rolling to get on to his knees in front of Rook without letting go of him.
his grip loosens enough so that he can drag the claws of his forefingers and thumb down a few inches of Rook's middle, curling into the fabric, once again stopping. holding himself back with all the force he uses to manage his wicked unique magic.]
You smell like you need me.
[and he figures he doesn't have to explain that the strength of it is giving Leona a reaction he can't ignore.
still, the concession feels like such a blow. it's always Rook that knows his weaknesses. the soft, the weak. those who need something he can provide. it is always damn Rook that ends up knowing his weaknesses.]
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As frightening and humiliating as it might be, having his control over his instincts slipping like this..... nobody else has to know. This secret can remain between them, like a precious gem to take pride in and cherish. Isn't every scrap of knowledge he gathers about his prey another treasure to hoard? Leona and his moments of weakness are hardly any exception. Rook settles a gloved hand over the hand on his hip, sliding it up Leona's arm encouragingly.]
Is that so? The easiest way to get rid of such things is usually to let them run their course, I've found. Shall you make me need you, then?
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he draws the hand on Rook's hip down to curl around his groin, annoyed, really, that there's any fabric in the way but more annoyed Rook isn't already at the point of begging. it's offensive, for whatever reason, and he's going to change it.
against Rook's ear Leona murmurs in response;]
Oh, like you're not eager.
[before he breathes in again, mouth open, this time giving in, letting the heady scent of Rook's pheromones color his senses.]
no subject
[Such a petulant expression, for someone finally allowed to stop fighting his base desires! Leona's grumbling is charming in much the same way Vil scolding is heartwarming, once you stop taking it personally and learn to hear what they're really saying--no, why they're really saying it.
Rook's smile is fond in spite of (because of?) the payback, almost knowing as he buries a hand in Leona's hair. Is Leona liable to tolerate him turning to claim his lips, or is kissing far too intimate for his tastes? He's certainly gotten plenty of practice learning how to kiss without cutting himself on fangs, after all. Either way, there's not a hint of self-consciousness as he meets Leona's gaze. How could he possibly deny it, after how he'd watched Leona at school?]
Why, Roi des Lions. When did I ever say I wasn't eager? I'd have to be a fool not to be.
[Eager? Absolutely. Ready..... not quite yet. Not nearly ready to beg the way Leona surely wants him to, if he's not even warm in Leona's hand yet. Should he be worried about the survival of their clothes?]
that second meta line is so choice👌✨
with both hands he takes hold of Rook's waistband to get unfastening it, tugging hard first to reset Rook closer to him less for his own comfort and more for the assertion that Rook is following his command, his rules, despite knowing how short the act falls in the face of Rook's unflappability. he's never been able to scare Rook to his satisfaction but oh, he will find a way to make him react.]
Then act like it,
[he commands, but gives no instruction; there is no time for it between the command and the press of Leona's mouth to Rook's. it's not his usual pace, but those teeth are present immediately, catching against Rook's lip.]
Right, he loves both his grumpy housewardens so much ♥
[Is Leona asking because he actually wants to see him eager, or because he wants to see him needy and passive, submissive? Really, he should know better than to leave his demands so vague; Rook is nothing if not dedicated to pursuing what he wants, with all the persistence and tenacity he has in him. He'll gladly let Leona tug him into place, even tip his head to offer more skin for those lovely teeth to catch at--but why would he ever choose to sit back and wait for someone else to hand over his heart's desires?
There's no harm in such trusting gestures; Leona won't hurt him in any way he can't handle. Not when he's this needy. Even a fully-fledged mating bite probably wouldn't pierce so deeply he couldn't simply heal the damage away. Rook breathes a low, satisfied noise into the kiss, lips parting to welcome Leona in, the hand in his hair stroking down his cheek to cradle his jaw--
--while the other hand reaches up to touch the magical pen in his pocket, intent on casting a quick clothing charm to whisk Leona's outfit off all at once. How's that for acting eager, hmmm? Good enough? There's something to be said for getting to see and touch as much as he wants, as soon as he wants.]
no subject
any presence of mind Leona may have had for blocking other spells had previously been allocated to controlling himself, but despite that no longer being the goal, it hasn't come back into play. thus, Rook's spell takes effect unobstructed, and Leona's too-hot skin is exposed to the air. it might not be too cold but the quickness of it still sends a shock down his spine, resolving in the whipping of his tail against the ground behind him.]
Audacious punk,
[he chides against Rook's mouth, though that's all he allows before he dives in. his tongue, like any beastman's, isn't so sharp it could actually tear muscle like their ancestors— it certainly wouldn't be helpful for speech, after all— but it is a bit more textured than a standard-blooded human's. he is daring with it, unabashed, for all that he'd been complaining about being in such a position with Rook.
when one is starving, it's natural there's a point where pride would buckle in the face of a meal.
but Leona still 'punishes' Rook, snapping open the buttons of his shirt one by one. ah, but it doesn't matter, does it? Rook's still so-well, practiced, surely the condition of his clothing is a matter of magic. so Leona claws each off, scraping his claws down Rook's chest— all the while pressing closer, as if to invite Rook to touch him as well.]
no subject
He wants to be made to need him, through tooth and claw and cunning alike. If Leona can't push him to that point, and he ends up submitting instead, well..... he'll just have to try again, won't he? As many times as it takes, until Rook is too well bred to even think of pushing back.
Leona's sheer annoyance is enough to make Rook grin mischievously, brief though it is before Leona claims his mouth. It's a lot all at once, considering how overwhelmingly opposed to this Leona had been only minutes ago--almost enough to make him not care about the sounds of snapping thread and falling buttons. This is going to be a pain to fix..... But that impending chore is far too distant to keep his arousal from starting to swell in Leona's grasp, feeling the sting of claws raking down his chest. Perhaps they might even find themselves guided by the vicious scars left by a tiger's claws? Vil's cosmetic expertise has worked miracles on fading the countless scars he's earned from a lifetime of hunting, but even he could only do so much for wounds so deep and old.
A sensible man wouldn't press into those claws, or deepen this kiss so eagerly. He should pull back, redirect Leona's hands somewhere safer, maybe take him into his mouth to get him ready. Rook leans close instead, his own hand smoothing considerably more gently over Leona's chest, and digs his knees into the dirt to bring his weight to bear. Even if he does manage to bowl Leona over, it surely won't last long--but he at least has to try pinning him, right?]
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but he lets Rook tip him back, leans into it rather than pushing back. playing with big cats can be like that; a back and forth rather assertion of power. he hisses dissatisfaction against Rook's mouth but the way he rolls his hips up toward him doesn't seem much like a protest.
it's fine though, advantageous even; there's little more to keep Leona from pushing Rook's shirt back off his shoulders, from dragging the pads of his fingers down Rook's skin to feel what he can't see while his mouth is busy. from that sweep down Rook's front he drags his hands around to Rook's ass, gives him a squeeze that pulls Rook closer. Lucky for the rest of Rook's wardrobe he's less concerned with outright rendering Rook's clothes unusable, and with that friction between them established he returns to unfastening Rook's pants. there's too many layers between them, and fixing that is a priority. he'll have Rook right on his back where he belongs once these are out of the way.]
no subject
Better to just leave that to Leona, if he wants him bared enough to comfortably claim. Rook moans into their kiss instead, grinding down against him eagerly even once Leona's hands retreat to get back to work. There's nothing wrong with being greedy at a time like this, is there? It just adds a little more passion that wouldn't otherwise be there, a thrilling edge of need to sharpen and spice up mere desire.]
no subject
he has work to finish; mostly the work of shoving those pants of Rook's down, and once his cock and his ass are bare Leona takes the moment to press his claws into the flesh of Rook's cheek and thigh, savoring the feeling of muscle beneath.
but the savoring and kissing and borderline-sweetness only last a moment more before Leona's had another thought. he hooks one leg around Rook's, braces his hand on Rook's shoulder— and in a single, fearsome sweep, he's used his weight as leverage to flip Rook over onto his back.
there beneath him, Rook isn't nearly covered in enough marks. sure, there are scars, but are enough of them Leona's? no, who could know that he is among what Leona claims like this?
so he remedies it, leaning his hand down between them to act as relief, holding their cocks flush to each other in his broad palms, and dips his head back down to bite at Rook's collarbone, at the muscle on his chest, leaving little pinches and rings of teeth marks as he does.]
no subject
The sweep is enough to force a startled yelp out of Rook, back hitting the ground hard enough to force the wind right out of him. Rook squirms beneath Leona in halfhearted protest, trying to roll them back over--though it's harder and harder to think about wrestling for dominance, when the sting of teeth leaves him panting and baring his throat for Leona instead. Is Leona going to add to those scars, to ensure nobody can dispute the permanence of his claim? Or will he settle for bruises that last mere days after this rut lifts?]
stab me in the heart with these lines why dont you!!!
the muscle of Rook's trapezius where it meets the neck is the perfect place— with just enough artery-free real estate not to leave the wrong kind of lasting damage— for Leona to press his teeth, to dig in hard. hard enough to bruise, then to break— hard enough that any sudden movement might leave a nastier tear than intended.
he focuses on that bite as he grinds forward, his cock rubbing against Rook's, the slow and deliberate rock of Leona's hips just a little preview of what's to come later.]
🗡🗡🗡
Jade would probably be angry, wouldn't he? Hadn't he made Rook promise not to put himself into such vulnerable positions with anyone else? He hadn't meant to, but..... if Jade wants to punish him for breaking his word, he'll just have to come back to do it, won't he? That alone would make any punishment he saw fit to inflict worth it.
For now, though? He'll carry that piece of Leona with him for a long, long time to come, etched into his skin along with countless other memories that make him who he is. Until Leona is satisfied, he belongs to him, a prize well-earned. Unflappable as he usually is, there's no denying how Leona has forced him to react--not when such a breathy whimper is tinged with just as much pleading as it is pain.]
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it's almost infuriating how freely and honestly Rook gives, too. it's always been frustrating, for a lion who could not properly learn to accept. a personality like Rook's is always an enemy of those who'd rather throw in the towel. still, he'll have time to be sore about it later.
he releases them both of his grasp (if a bit reluctantly) for now to tug Rook's pants further down his thighs, pushing them up a bit as he does so, exposing Rook more. Leona ruts against Rook, and as he loses himself in that sensation for a moment, he glides his tongue over Rook's skin, picking up the metallic taste of his blood. locking in its scent, and the memory of Rook as his prey.]
no subject
Rook shudders under the fiery sting of Leona's tongue instead, cock slick and dripping as they grind against each other. He shifts under Leona, tries to pull him closer still--then impatiently shoves a hand into his pocket. A tingle of magic against bare skin, and Rook's pants and boots fall beside them in a heap, leaving only a travel-sized tube of lube in his hand instead as he wraps a newly freed leg around Leona's waist. Clearly, this sort of thing happens enough that he travels prepared.]
no subject
he leans back down only to slide his tongue over the wound long and slow, the only kind of apology Rook'll ever get for such an act, really. lazily and sloppily, unconcerned with the dripping of extra lubricant, Leona gets his hand slick with it, and for a few strokes he coats both his and Rook's cocks with what's on his palm. continuing to rut against Rook he moves his hand down further and presses his forefinger against Rook's hole.]
no subject
Or rather, he is Leona's. That fact certainly can't be argued. Not when the hot rasp of tongue soothing over his wound pulls such a shaky moan from him, or he presses down on Leona's finger so readily, eager to take him inside. The way every slick stroke and harsh grind forces Rook's hips to twitch in instinctive need might make it a little harder for Leona to claim his prize--but there's no satisfaction in hunting prey that doesn't even struggle, is there?]