duplicitymemes | TDM #4 ( revised )

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TDM #4 ( revised )

« « « TEST DRIVE MEME » » »

« « « HERE WE ARE AGAIN

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.

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.

Oh, and one more thing. It's fucking cold. Better bundle up.

» » » LIES TRAVEL IN COMPANY

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.

« « « END IN THE DISCORD

While the societal climate between Dominants and Submissives remains somewhat neutral throughout Duplicity, there has been the occasional whisper of defiance and call for equality. Yet, demonstrations and visible proof of this unhappiness spreads faster by word of mouth on a day exactly when you need it most.

Welcome to Autonomy, a "traveling" nightclub that is never in the same place twice. People wanting to attend only learn of its lucrative location and password hours before it opens for business. Tonight, I choose the third door will get you inside and into the temporary freedom club Autonomy has to offer. In this circle, there are no assigned designations and no consequences for taking a role that isn't the one given by society. So, a Dominant may become the Submissive they've always wanted to be—or vice versa. Dominants and Submissives alike are able to mingle without repercussion and be themselves. Food, drinks, and private areas for more intimate – or if your preference is sexual – encounters are provided. Donations are accepted at any point during the night to further Autonomy's attempts of spreading the fulfillment that comes from being untitled.

On the night you choose to visit, Autonomy is holding a random lottery for temporary connections. When entering, you have the choice of submitting your name into this drawing to be paired with someone else in the club regardless of designation. A short while later, a message will pop up on your device with the name and information of your partner, and whether or not you choose to meet them is purely at your discretion. Having more than one connection isn't completely unusual either.

» » » TABLE IT FOR LATER

Gratification of being a successful Dominant or Submissive isn't necessarily simple. Learning curves are to be made, and mistakes will happen. Led by a Dominant and Submissive couple – Miriam and Victoria, who have been paired for twenty-two years – a monthly meeting for unattached Dominants and Submissives is held in the conference room of Morning Wood motel in the Down. The meeting starts a few minutes after nine and has no designated end time. The couple introduce themselves and explain the purpose of the meeting: learn the proper method for a new kink and possibly find your perfect partner. The space is intimate and well-stocked with refreshments.

To begin, Victoria, while blindfolded, balances on her hands and knees with her back perfectly level. Her partner, when ready, places various items on the level surface–a full cup, a plate. The Submissive is meant to hold the items until the Dominant believes she's reached her limit. The exercise is one of trust and understanding. The demonstration is a short one, followed by Miriam removing the blindfold and soothing her Submissive. The words are whispered low and with care, clearly a method that is specific to this couple. The process is concluded with the pair handing out workups, videos, and answering questions. Anyone wishing to practice Purposeful Submission can do so in the open room with a random volunteer, aided by the couple, or can find someone to take to one of the rented rooms. Sex may follow any scene but is not necessarily included. Experimenting with unattached Dominants and Submissives allows for new relationships to form.

« « « MOD & OOC NOTES

Please read carefully.

On each Test Drive Meme, there will be a section noting character roles based on birthdays; these will vary each TDM. On an IC level, character 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 chose "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. All characters who have blue eyes or one blue eye and another color are Submissives. All characters who have brown eyes or one brown eye and another color are Dominants. Characters with any other color eyes are Dominants. To use this TDM as a door pass please link this on your app and place whether it is Dominant or Submissive.

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

» » » MAIN NAVIGATION « « «

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[And perhaps it isn't the most perfect limerick ever told, but Julian has never had one written about him and has consumed a good deal of gin himself. As such, he seems delighted, his smile a bright broad arc across his face, and once again he brings his hands together quite loudly in a gesture of his appreciation.]

Hah! Bravo, bravo, perhaps your friend should be in fear for his title, if he ever does put in an appearance here. The swarm of bats...it gets me every time.

[Geralt snorts softly at the suggestion. Even if he was musically inclined, his voice isn’t suited for bard work; it’s much too rough and monotonous.]

I thank you, and I’m pleased you enjoyed it. In the unlikely event I think up further limericks, I’ll keep in mind to share them with you.

[Very, very unlikely, but at least Julian will have the one attempt to keep for the rest of his days.

And with that attempt done, they’ve reached their destination. The squeal of the breaks is an unpleasant sound for someone of Geralt’s sensitive hearing to be subjected to, but it never takes long for it to be swallowed up by the hubbub of people standing out of their seats, retrieving their luggage, hushing their children and murmuring amongst themselves. When the commotion starts (and Geralt has noticed it always starts long before they've come to a complete halt), he's quick to join in, rising from his chair and steadying himself with a pole grip. He keeps his other hand free to be used as support should Julian find himself stumbling again.]

[This seems to satisfy him, quite oblivious to Geralt's own misgivings, but before he can say any more on the subject they're pulling into their stop, and on seeing the other man rise from his seat, Julian rises with him. He takes a stumbling step forward and - laughing at his own clumsiness - moves to grasp Geralt's offered arm as they move out with the rest of the evening's small crowd into the bitter cold of the night.]

Is your accommodation from here? I'm beginning to fear that if I don't indulge again soon, I'll begin to sober up. And we don't want that, now, do we.

[Though despite the jovial words, he doesn't look to be in danger of sobering up any time soon.]

[Geralt casts a rather pointed look at the arm Julian is using for support. If he wanted to convince Geralt of approaching sobriety, he should’ve had the forethought to at least attempt walking on his own. But that sort of foresight probably requires more sobriety than Julian currently has.]

If it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer not to have to clean vomit off my floors. I just received them.

[He directs Julian toward an alleyway far out of the way of any streetlamps, so dark that one is prevented from seeing what sits beyond it. The Up is safe enough that Geralt doesn’t have to have any reservations about entering such a place without a weapon.]

[And in the wake of that rather pointed statement Julian gasps dramatically, flings up his free arm to clutch at his coat, directly over his heart. The sudden motion unbalances him slightly, causing him to lean against Geralt that little bit more.]

Are you casting aspersions on my ability to hold my liquor? You wound me.

[He says, though it's clearly a matter of theatrics, that beneath all of that he doesn't appear to be wounded at all. He allows himself to be led into the increased darkness of the alley, his voice dipping low now as he moves from a pretense at hurt to one of concern.]

And what's this now, leading me into dark alleys in the dead of night. Should I be afeard for my safety?

[But the crook of one thick eyebrow, the angle of his oncoming smile, all clearly indicate that he's teasing, that the gin in his system has obviously left him silly and playful.]

Casting aspersions on my ability to ensure your safety? You wound me.

[There’s nothing to fear in the alleyway except perhaps the potential to walk through garbage. Geralt nonetheless manoeuvres himself so he’s walking in front. Partly out of habit, and partly because he doesn’t want Julian to kick or trip on something.]

I’ll strive to keep you intact through to the end. Your toes, in particular, as you’re liable to kick something in this dark.

[He glances at Julian just in time for Julian to see his pupils dialating like those of a cats. He can see just as well as one, too, as they head deeper into the dark of the alleyway.]

[And in truth, there is no fear in him-- he's frequented many a dark alley in his time, many a shady location, and if anything this relatively affluent area is far less risky than the kinds of situations he's accustomed to. It is particularly hard to make out the shapes of their surroundings in the dark though, when a man has only one eye currently at his disposal, one eye that is already seeing things through a gin-induced haze.]

Lucky I ran into you then, isn't it? Who knows where I'd have ended up otherwise.

[Asleep in a gutter in the Down probably, or under a table in the bar they were frequenting. Or some situation entirely worse than that. And he does catch the quick dilation of the other man's eyes as he turns to look at him, knows what it's likely to mean. Allows himself to be led along with some certainty, safe in the assumed knowledge that Geralt will be much better at maneuvering his way around than Julian himself currently is.]

I’ll spare you the educated guesses I could make.

[The walk through is uneventful, punctuated once or twice with Geralt pulling Julian out of the way of an obstacle and little more. Well, that’s not entirely true; there was a cat, but Geralt made a face at it and it promptly fled. A face Julian wouldn’t have been privy to, and he’s grateful for that, for baring one’s teeth at cats looks quite silly.

The alleyway opens out into a street that is occupied almost entirely by apartment complexes. Some are clearly more upper-class than others, and Geralt heads for one that looks reasonably modest.]

Before we enter, I should warn you that the security here likes to questions those entering with submissives with which they have no contract. And there's no back entrance.

[He's seen it happen a few times, but perhaps if they're fast and quiet they'll be able to avoid prying eyes.]

[And Julian likely chatters aimlessly the entire way, pausing only once they begin to reach the apartment complex Geralt has been housed in. It seems reasonably modest in comparison with some of the surrounding buildings, and yet still positively luxurious when one compares it with the dive Julian has been put up in. He notices it, but only with a tipsy kind of indifference.

Geralt makes his pronouncement though and for the moment it draws all of Julian's attention. He nods, expression thoughtful, clearly giving it some consideration.]

Time for some subtle subterfuge, then? If I seem especially innocuous and obedient perhaps they'll minimise their questioning. I'll just...walk quietly behind you, and you can do any required talking.

[And believe it or not, despite his chatty mouth and his obvious flamboyance, this is something he knows how to do.]

[This is the most apparent their roles in this place has been. The submissive and dominant. Slave and owner - or potential owner, rather. To have to indulge these roles, even briefly, is a thought that fills Geralt with displeasure, but he sets his jaw and heads on inside regardless.]

Very well.

[He’s not going to make them stand outside in the cold just to avoid some discomfort. And besides, maybe they’ll get lucky. It is late, after all, and the security team is probably more interested in lounging than performing their job.]

[Very well, he says, and Julian moves to follow him inside in silence, holding his tongue for the first time since the two of them engaged in their interactions this evening. He walks a respectful step behind and slightly to one side of the older man, eye cast down to the ground. He manages to convey through silence and body-language alone an air of unquestioning obedience.

It's a position he slips into with a remarkable kind of ease.]

[The lack of exuberance from Julian is striking. Geralt eyes him as they walk and takes note of how very well he plays his role: either through the ease of an actor, or he’s had to do this before. The latter wouldn’t surprise Geralt considering the story with the Count. It's often wise to put on an obedient front with such people.

Despite their efforts, they're stopped before they can make their escape into the elevator. A man wielding a phone twice the size of any normal device waves them down in the middle of the lobby. He only asks two questions. The first: their names, which Geralt promptly provides. The second: if the submissive in his company is one he is intending to court, and if so, when might they be drawing up a contract?

Geralt immediately starts missing the silence.]

There is a manner of courting. No date for a contract has been discussed.

[The man rapidly inputs something into the device, nodding along, and asks for additional details.]

‘Additional details’? I just told you for what purpose he is here. What are you expecting, exactly – a detailed account of his potential role in my sex life? It doesn’t concern you. Put that in your device and shove it up your ass.

[Perhaps they should have just run for the stairs and hoped for the best.]

[Ah, damn-- he thinks it, but doesn't say it. Stands as quietly and unobtrusively as it's possible for a 6'4 redhead with an eyepatch and rather dramatic attire to possibly be, leaves the talking in Geralt's hands--

--which is, quite possibly, a bad idea. He may have managed it better himself, or at the very least wouldn't have said that. As for what to do now, this might all have been a bit smoother if he weren't somewhat inebriated and had been in the city a little longer, with enough time to get a more thorough understanding of where to push and where to pull, what exactly is and isn't expected of his role. He could step in and intervene but they may not take too kindly to someone of his social standing talking over or around those placed above him. He could just keep quiet and hope it doesn't get any worse, of course, and he does now wonder if the better plan might not have been to walk in like he owned the place, as though he wasn't a submissive at all.

Or just gone back to his place to begin with.

Alas, those options are no longer available. In the end he decides to take a chance on trying to smooth things over-- at worst, he suspects the only one who'll have to pay for it is him. And that's fine, it's always fine. He suspects its how he came to be in this position to begin with-- not arbitrary, but quite deserved.

He keeps his voice pitched soft and low, but answers all the same.]

I'm uh, I'm very sorry for all the trouble I'm evidently causing. But obviously one would wish to ah, to thoroughly make use of the goods in the comfort of their own personal space before knowing whether they'd be - that is, I'd be - a good fit for one's lifestyle. So we're here...to do that. And then make an assessment from there.

[And he smiles in a way that is intended to be disarming. Isn't sure whether he ought to prepare for being ignored or struck or shouted at, to get thrown out or be allowed to stay.]

[The man looks at Julian without reproach. Evidently his act is a convincing one, and what’s not to like about a submissive that’s eager and knows their place? Sufficiently placated, he nods and finishes tapping the necessary information into his device, then bids them goodnight – winking just before he departs.

The elevator creaks as Geralt and Julian enter it. The sound used to make Geralt nervous; being stuck in a creaking metal box isn’t the most reassuring of positions, but after the fourth use or so, he’s gotten used to it. He waits until they’ve put some distance between themselves and the security team before speaking.]

We’ll have to think of a new ruse should we find ourselves needing to do that again. The man didn't look like he appreciated my tone of voice. [Or, you know… being told to shove something up his ass.]

[The tight-held tension in his shoulders almost visibly softens when the security guard seems only pleased with his performance, and as the man winks he goes so far as to raise a suggestive eyebrow before they turn from each other and he and geralt head into the lift. And he's not very fond of the lift himself-- it may be quite a different design from the wrought-iron, red backlit monstrosity that used to descend into the plague dungeons, a spectre that has haunted his nightmares for years now, but it's close enough as to cause some discomfort. He makes no complaint or demonstration of his trepidation as they step inside however, too relieved to have escaped their encounter with the guard to give it the concentration he might otherwise have done.

Once Geralt breaks the silence Julian's earlier exuberance makes a swift return, and he leans back bonelessly against the wall of the elevator, laughs quick and bright.]

I'm not sure it was your tone, but more the content he objected to. Not much of a people-pleaser, are you.

[But there's no hint of rebuke or reproach in his voice, only obvious amusement.]

Lucky for you, I'm a grade-A schmoozer so perhaps I should do the bulk of the talking next time hijinks occur.

[He runs one hand back through unruly auburn curls, his grin a wide arc across his face.]

And at least now I know how they'd like me to behave, for future reference. But as you say, I have my doubts we'd be able to slip by that particular guard again following your performance.

[Not a people pleaser – that’s an understatement. Geralt is in the unique position of having back-talked several nobles, royals, and powerful magicians and escaped mostly intact, and this stubbornness and arrogance prevails despite the fact one of the people in question shattered a femur and a forearm to try and alleviate him of it.]

I can agree to that arrangement, particularly as my usual method is silence. The lofty aspirations people have of compelling me to speak freely were usually discarded after enough of it. And I say ‘were’, as it’s become increasingly clear to me it won’t work here.

[People aren’t unsettled by him here, they aren’t afraid. It’s both a pleasing and bothersome change of pace, because on one hand, it’s nice to be in a place unaffected by anti-witcher propaganda and general negative sentiment, but on the other, there are people here he really wouldn’t mind seeing recoil at the sight of him.

He leans against the wall as they ascend the floors, arms crossed.]

Shouldn’t be hard to avoid that guard. I’ve seen him before – he works at night, and they don’t stop you on your way out. I’ll just have to stock up on liquor.

Edited 2019-01-18 08:01 (UTC)

[He nods his acquiescence with that, his mood still clearly jovial despite the thoughtful expression that steals across his face.]

It looks like some adjustments are going to have to be made, all over. I'm not really used to having to rely on anyone else for...you know, pretty much everything. Did they tell you my lot aren't even allowed to make purchases? It's not just that I don't have money, I'm not even permitted to do it. How a man is supposed to spoil his friends that way, I don't know.

[He sighs a little theatrically-- there are aspects of this odd situation that, if anything, he finds interesting, exciting even, but that particular one-- it irritates him.]

Ah, well. Perhaps I shall find some way around it.

[And he lets it go, just like that. Flashes a teasing smile.]

And they're going to end up thinking you're quite the lothario, if the morning staff sees me slinking out of here on the regular.

[He's totally assuming Geralt will want to drink with him again.]

[Geralt hasn’t the faintest idea what a ‘lothario’ is, but he can guess what Julian means by the context.

A Dandelion, basically.]

There are worst reputations to have than the suggestion of sexual prowess, and I’ve had several of them. I might like the change of pace.

[As long as the guards here don’t try to offer him unsolicited advice or criticism. Which they probably will, eventually.]

And they did mention the restrictions on submissive during orientation. Or rather, ‘the societal obligation dominants have to help the vulnerable and incapable of the population secure a good quality of life’. [His tone of voice couldn’t be more dry.] You can still get a job, and a dominant won't be required to hold your hand through each working day. Might need to do some under the table jobs to supplement, but you can make your own money. Once you have some extra to spend, all you need do is persuade someone to act as your personal postal service. Shouldn’t be hard. You already got drink and food out of me, and possibly my bed as well.

[Obviously he’s going to let Julian stay the night. He’s enjoying the company, and it’s the polite thing to do.]

Oh, much worse. Villainous murdering plague doctor is a bit of a downer, let me tell you. Though I think I've made it work, and it's done wonders for my credibility in certain circles.

[Again, he laughs. Folds his long arms across his chest, hands coming to rest on his forearms.]

And you do have a point. I should just see it as more of a challenge, and who doesn't like one of those? Besides, no doubt there's a thriving underground market or two around here, something like that. All kinds of nefarious ways for an enterprising submissive to get ahead.

[And at that, he sounds positively gleeful, once again easily shucking off any hardship that has been placed upon him. He'll find a way, as he always does, and then probably use everything he has to try and help those he considers more deserving than him, whilst forgetting to feed himself and the like. Julian Devorak: a bonafide walking disaster.]

You have been excessively generous. You're quite sure you don't want me to repay you, somehow?

[And the particular arch of his brow ought to make his meaning quite clear.]

[Geralt imagines Julian won’t be fronting an underground operation; he’s a little too nice for that, and sometimes prioritising ones welfare over everyone elses is necessary to maintain such a position, but with his wit, charisma, and intelligence, he ought to do well in participating in and perhaps even contributing to such a thing.]

Enjoying challenges is an advantage of the youth. In the position of a submissive, I’d sit on my ass and occasionally do some gardening and fishing to fulfil my needs.

[He’s probably going to do a lot of ass-sitting here as it is. This place doesn’t need him – not beyond the LIES program, in any case, and he isn’t doing that voluntarily. His skills have no use here.

His thoughts are shaken from the dreariness of being without a purpose when Julian offers to compensate him for his kindness. He might not get propositioned by men often, but the suggestion is clear. Entirely against his volition, his face has managed to contort itself into a foolish expression, so Geralt quickly feigns interest in watching the elevator keys light up. They're just about to reach his floor.]

I’m quite sure. The company and good conversation has been payment enough, and that will remain the case for as long as you wish to put up with me. Which, if I am lucky, will be for some time yet.

[Just another of his idiosyncrasies-- that he hails from a sexually permissive society and is also an incorrigible flirt, though perhaps both those things will set him in good stead when it comes to coping with his current situation. No doubt he's dealing with it far better than many others. As things stand, he catches the look on the other man's face before he quickly focuses his attention on the elevator keys, and behind his back Julian smirks, though not unkindly. He'll write Geralt up as a shy sort, though it also reiterates his earlier conclusion that he's in the company of a gentleman.

Not the kind to take advantage of drunk men in vulnerable social positions, clearly.

Vaguely he considers ribbing him about it, but why risk offending someone who has gone out of his way to be hospitable to a perfect stranger? And so he rearranges his expression into something entirely more neutral just as the elevator door slides open.]

You're putting yourself at risk of never being rid of me, you realise. I've been informed by some people that I talk rather too much.

[Funnily enough, he received similar warnings prior to acquiring the earlier mentioned bard as his best friend. Though never from Dandelion himself. Dandelion would never suggest his presence is one someone would have any desire to relieve themselves of. ]

A description applicable to many I choose to spend time with. You’ll fit right in with my history of subjecting myself to the company of windbags.

[He guides Julian out of the elevator and into a very white and very immaculate hallway. There isn't a wide variety of colours here: just white and black and a smattering of silver. But while the rest of the hallway isn't of much note, the glass panels at the end of it are, for they provide an absolutely stunning view of the city.]

[And there lies at least one distinct difference between Julian and Geralt's friend the bard; Julian is of the distinct opinion that his company is really best avoided, or at least should be drastically minimised. He's a disaster waiting to happen, this he thinks he knows, and considers it best that no-one get too close to him for fear of them being caught in the blast when things inevitably explode.

Tonight though, for once, his mind is one something other than what he imagines to be his own cursed nature, and his good-natured laugh comes soft and warm as they step from the lift and into that pristine hallway. Whilst the place he's been set up in is something of a dive, it's still a good sight better than all manner of other places he's holed up in. But this-- it really is something else. All the clean lines, the white and the black, he isn't too sure what to make of them, so very different is all of this to the kind of architecture he knows. But the great glass panels at the end of the hall, that's quite something.]

Oh, would you look at this!

[His words are a pleased exclamation as he moves falteringly towards the view, movements still impeded by the gin in his blood, intent on getting a better look at the sparkling night-time view beyond. Even the view from the Palace in Vesuvia can't quite compare to the sprawling vista set before him now.]

It's quite the view, isn't it?

[And he presses his palms flat to the glass, stares out at the night-shrouded city below.]

It is. It’s plain beautiful.

[Even he, with all his bitterness about this place, can admit that. The first time he saw it, he was in awe of the landscape of twinkling lights, and days later, it’s still something he finds himself staring at when he's vacant of mind. He can’t help but enjoy the view, particularly as he has the very same panels stretched across both a lounge room and bedroom wall.]

The rest of the place isn't much to look at. [As he speaks, he retrieves his keycard from his pocket and comes to a stop in front of his door, flicking the card over the smooth, black panel that takes the place of a keyhole.] But it's clean. Can't ask for much else.

[The apartments are pretty, sure, but they are in a very cold and sterile sort of way.]

[Plain beautiful is the word for it, and he takes a long, languid moment with gloved palms pressed to glass, his alcohol-blurred glaze taking in the far-flung view of the city beneath, the dazzling array of lights like stars hung too low. He feels a little breathless before it, almost glad, really, to be here. To see something like this. Some journeys may be dark and strange, but there's usually something wonderful in even the worst of them. It rings as true in this alien world as it does of his own home.

Eventually he drags himself away, however, with no small modicum of reluctance, and will probably be glad to discover that Geralt's apartment itself affords such a view. As the other man opens his door Julian moves to slide through it behind him, already swinging his coat from his shoulders and beginning to undo the the clasps of the jacket underneath (though he makes no attempt to divest himself of his ridiculous boots). Making himself at home, it looks like. ]

Certainly clean. I think only the palace in Vesuvia is as clean as this place.

[He says, as he casts his eye about him, though truthfully his views align with Geralt's-- its all a little stark and sterile for his tastes, a far cry from the cosy low-slung buildings and bright decor he's accustomed to seeing (even if most of the buildings outside of the palace back home don't afford him much in the way of head height).

Once inside, he claps his hands together. Smiles his big, rogish smile.]

So here we are, safe and sound, no more fear of passing out in the street. Which means it must be time for gin!

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