TDM #4 ( revised )

[duplicitymods]

« « « 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 « « «

Comments

Julian Devorak | The Arcana | Submissive

[baneful]

a. sometime after arrival.

[Whilst arriving in this place has all been terribly confusing and strange and, yes, downright frightening if one were to be brutally honest, for as long as he's caught up in all this he supposes he ought to try and make the most of it. It's hardly the first unusual thing that has ever befallen him, and yes, true, this one might just take the biscuit, but at the very least he considers himself capable of rolling with the punches.

Perhaps. Possibly.

The last thing he recalls with any clarity is awaiting an appointment with the gallows, so compared with that, this isn't such a terrible fate. He may not understand quite how this all transpired, but at the very least, he's no stranger to the experience of periods of amnesia. Just one more thing to add to the list of ever-mounting concerns, to the failures he can't help but attribute to himself even if, on this occasion, he hasn't quite managed to discern how this is all his fault, yet.

But no matter, those thoughts are for later. For now he's been situated in his temporary accommodation, he's had his clothes returned to him and, he's quite sure, now that he's manage to collect his fractured thoughts and is properly attired, there's a drink around here with his name on it.

The one problem with this plan being that as a submissive he has no coin to his name, but that's something that can surely be circumnavigated. For example, by locating a bar and approaching the first person he sees, flashing them the very best of his debonair grins.]

Be a dear and buy me a drink, would you? I'm sure I could find some way to make it up to you.

b. wildcard

[Let's get rowdy]

b for BROTHER TIME

[ilyushkano]

[When she was younger and he started taking trips out with Mazelinka, Portia had lingered by the docks. Sometimes she had clambered onto crates just to get a view above the thick hustle and bustle of visitors coming and going from Nevivon's port, and sometimes she had fooled around with the other urchins that the grandmothers looked after.

But she always, always spotted her brother before he did her, be it on a gangplank or—like today—wandering down a street.]

—Ilyushka!

[The words will hit his ears shortly before his sister hits his everything, arms snapping around him in a desperate, clinging embrace.]

Y... you're back. You came back.

[She doesn't know whether she should be happy about that, but she is.]

[baneful]

[His wandering is aimless, lost in thought and turning the circumstances of his arrival here over and over inside his head, trying to make sense of it all, trying to have it sink down into the bones of him in the hope that it will start to feel like something other than the strangest of fever-dreams. He's so caught up in the otherness of it all that his surroundings pass him by in a blur, distant and unnoticed.

That is, until he hears the shape of his name - his pet name, no less, the name only one person is likely to use - notes the familiarity of her voice as he begins to turn around, confused and--

--and. Portia slams into him hard enough to knock the breath from him, to send him stumbling back a step before he's able to catch himself. It's second-nature, though, to wind his arms around her in turn and whilst there's a sudden blossoming of gladness in him at the welcome sight of her, it's all caught up in his concern and, quite frankly, his confusion.]

Pasha, what are you doing here?

[There's worry in his voice as he looks down at the woman clinging to him, and its a smattering of seconds before he picks up on the other thing.]

What are you talking about, came back?

[ilyushkano]

...what?

[Her brow furrows, and she cranes her head back to look at him in equal and opposite confusion.

She still doesn't let go just yet, though.]

Ilya, I've been here for months. And you were here before me, same as Asra. Do you...

[She presses her lips together, thinking hard. Unbidden, Leo and Takumi and their whole temporal-spatial mess rises to the forefront of her mind.]

No. Forget all that for now; what's the last thing that you remember?

[baneful]

[His confusion (worry, concern) deepens like a coastal shelf because none of this makes any sense, leaves his head spinning almost as hard as it had when he'd first stepped into that lab room filled with eerily-smiling strangers. His hands slide up to clasp her shoulders as he stares down into her upturned face, attempting to discern any trace of illness there, any trace of injury or difference or something.]

I...

[He starts, but she's abruptly changing track and, readily enough, he focuses on the part he can answer.]

I was in Vesuvia, awaiting to be led to the gallows. Surely you recall?

[He says it with just a touch of guilt, ugly situation that it must have been for her.]

a

[plaguebearing]

[Lucio has never been the most astute, and as of late his attention has been fixated on things other than the comings and (in this case) goings of Doctor Julian Devorak. Yes, surprising likely no one the Count has been so wrapped up in himself that he didn't even notice the initial departure of his "friend", so hearing that familiar voice over his shoulder is hardly a shock.

The blonde turns, golden arm propped up on the bar and submissive mark fully on display as those familiar plague-tinged eyes sweep over Julian with something akin to amusement.]

A drink, huh? You're in a much better mood than last time, Jules.

[baneful]

[The blond at the bar begins to turn and the smile dies on Julian's face because there's a countenance that he wouldn't forget in a hurry. His one visible eye goes wide with shock and there's a moment where he says nothing at all, mind turning in ever-loosening circles in an attempt to make sense of what he's seeing.

This shouldn't be possible. It should't. And yet somehow, it is.]

I, uh...never mind. Perhaps I don't need that drink after all.

[And he takes an alarmed step backwards, almost tripping over his own over-long legs.]

[plaguebearing]

[The Count's smirk sours similarly quickly at that reaction, eyes narrowing as he watches the mixture of emotions war on the man's face. He moves after Julian then, reaching out to try and grab his wrist as an irritated pout twists his lips.]

Wait a damn second! You don't get to come up to me and then change your mind like that!

[Especially not when the doctor was the one to initiate things in the first place; that just isn't how this works!]

[baneful]

[There's the hard catch of fingers around his wrist and Julian momentarily freezes, stares down at where Lucio's hand has hold of him with an expression of incomprehension. Almost, he'd expected that hand to pass right through him, but the grip of it now feels as real as anything he's ever experienced.]

You're meant to be dead.

[It's almost an accusation.]

[lazaret]

[ .. he knows that voice? he knows that voice.

normally, thistle doesn't spend much time at bars. they're crowded and noisy, people get belligerent and occasionally very physical.. they're just not his style. however, bars are also great places to hear information about the area from the locals, which is why he'd sucked it up and gone inside.

only to find julian devorak charming someone into buying him a drink. that height and red hair are unmistakable. ]

--Julian! [ thistle wades his way through the people crowded around the bartop, curling scarred white fingers in the crook of the other man's arm to catch his attention, pink eyes wide and owl-like behind the lenses of his glasses. there's a scarf looped over his hair, and with his usual tendency to cover every reasonable inch of skin he can, about the only thing visible of him is his pale face and a few wisps of white hair. ] Did you just get here? I didn't see you earlier. [ which really should have been impossible, but here they are. ]

[baneful]

[The sound of his name called out in a familiar voice has him turning away from the man at the bar, face momentarily wiped clean of expression until his gaze falls on Thistle's approaching form. There's a return of his smile then, something a touch more genuine than the one he'd flashed at the stranger as a bargaining chip for free beer, and at the feel of fingers at the crook of his arm he's turning bodily towards the magician. Thistle may be covered almost from head to toe, but Julian thinks he'd have known him anywhere.]

Oh, you're here! I wasn't expecting...well, it's hard to expect much of anything in a situation like this, isn't it? But never mind that.

[And he's moving to sweep the younger man up into a dramatic and engulfing hug.]

[lazaret]

[ thank the gods for someone familiar, someone he cares about. he thought-- well, he was a little nervous that he'd just have to manage on his own. and while he was prepared to do so, it's still such a relief not to have to.

still, he yelps a little as he's pulled into a hug that nearly lifts him off his feet. it only takes a moment for him to return it, though, arms sliding around julian in turn as he laughs breathlessly. ]

You're certainly taking this well, [ he manages as he leans back in the circle of the redhead's arms, his own palms coming to rest on julian's biceps as he peers up at him. when he notices the submissive mark, he hesitates, then reaches up, touching it gently. ] .. I see they made you a submissive. [ a slightly wry arch of his brows follows the statement. if it didn't also include second-class accommodations and treatment, that'd be almost ideal for julian, wouldn't it? ]

[baneful]

Ah. Well. When in Vesuvia, as they say. Only this...isn't. Hah.

[He lifts broad shoulders in a shrug, smiles almost apologetically, and of course makes no mention of all the darker concerns that move through him, the confusion and conflicted feelings he's felt since his arrival. There's no need to allow his own concerns to spill out onto anyone else, least of all Thistle. But then the magician is reaching up to touch his mark and whilst he tilts his chin obligingly, the tips of his ears begin to colour, just slightly.]

Seems that way, doesn't it.

[He says, catching the wryness in the other man's expression, and the truth of it is even the second-class treatment doesn't bother him as much as perhaps it should. Being the kind of man he is, instead it seems somehow fitting.]

b

[mastermagician]

Ilya.

[ The neame leaves him in a breath, trickling through his lips. His ribs felt too tight around his lungs, which ached. Asra slipped forward from the join in the Submissive hotel in the down. There's a black line down his throat, too, but-- there's pigment dashed above his eyes, moonshadow blue and quicksilver pinks, a perfect match to his loose shirt. His tawny hands have thin, golden rings, to match the high choker along his slender neck.

But there's only a moment to catch him, as he rushes on quiet feet to wrap his arms around the other man. Hits his chest like a wave at high tide, fingers gripping familiar fabric, hiding his face against Julian's chest. His shoulders shook as he leaned in, saying nothing. ]

[baneful]

[He pauses mid-stride at the sound of his soft-murmured name, something so fluid and intimate that for a moment it catches him off-guard and as he begins to turn he just has time to discern who he's seeing, the colours and shapes of him insinuating themselves into his consciousness. Recognition comes over him just as Asra moves to wrap his arms around him, body-close and fingers curled into cloth, face buried against his chest and all of this, it isn't something he can make any sense of.

From Asra of all people, it's not the kind of welcome he could have predicted.

For a moment he stands there awkwardly with arms hanging loose at his sides, before finally he moves to wrap long fingers around the other man's upper arms in what passes for an awkward embrace.]

Asra? Well, um. This is a surprise.

[Faintly, he feels the heat rise in his cheeks.]

[mastermagician]

A surprise, don't-- don't you dare mess with me--

[ He leaned back just enough to touch his tears away from the corners of his eyes, before they could spill or muddle his makeup. But his shoulders hadn't been shaking with sobs, or fear, or grief, or worry--

The expression he turned up was liquid with relief, as bright and soft as dawn, and his tawny hands... twitched up, tentatively reaching for Julian's face, meaning to frame it between his hands. ]

You wouldn't believe how panicked I was. First you didn't show for dinner, and then a day became two became a week...

[baneful]

[None if this is adding up. Asra leans away from him and looking down into his face he sees his eyes are full of tears. Tears, and a relief so obvious and bright that its almost blinding. A lot of time has passed, it's true, but he didn't think the coolness and the distance and the sharp-edged memories that stood between them could give out onto something like this purely because they were both here.

Asra's hands reach for his face, and though something tenses up in him he doesn't pull back, either. He's too surprised, too thrown, to push him away now. Besides, the tears and the relief, they awaken the usual things in him, the strong desire to protect, even at the expense of his own feelings.

Deep in his chest, old wounds reopen.

He stands there awkwardly, hands still clasped to Asra's biceps, and as the other man begins to speak his confusion only grows. His auburn brows furrow even as his voice grows soft and careful.]

Asra. I wasn't here a week ago. I've been here for barely a day, if that.

A

[whitewolfofrivia]

[Julian has chosen well. Having never had wealth in his life, Geralt finds it easy to part with what coin he has been given, and he's not even going to demand that Julian compensates him for it. He buys him one of what he's drinking - a simple gin and tonic - and holds it out in offering, taking a swig from his own glass.]

There's no need to 'make it up to me', unless you know how to use this.

[He points to the network device sitting on the bar. There's already a chip in the screen courtesy of him slamming it down at one point. It's not exactly intuitive.]

In which case, you can sit and explain it to me.

[baneful]

Oh. Well. How generous.

[The sharp curve of his smile remains because to be honest that's even better. This seems the kind of place where one could get into all kinds of trouble by making such offers, and whilst he isn't entirely opposed to it, it would be nice to settle in gently. At the very least it would all go over better once he's three sheets to the wind.

He takes the glass and knocks half of it back before he even considers what the other man is asking. But after placing the glass back down on the bar, he casts his one visible eye down towards the little device, thick auburn brows pulling together in concentration. He hasn't even looked at his yet, but--]

Ah. I'm not too sure myself, but I could take a look if you like. It's the least I can do after you've been good enough to help a man out.

[whitewolfofrivia]

[While his companion is examining the device, Geralt turns in his chair to get a better look at him. Neither the mans expression nor his words suggest it would be a productive examination were he to hand his device over.]

No need to strain yourself. I can see you know about as much as I do about such devices. Which is to say, nothing at all.

[A pity. He knows there's considerable information on that device and he could have done with some elucidation on certain aspects of his new home.]

You haven't been here long either, I take it. When did you arrive?

[baneful]

[Alas, the poor stranger happens to have encountered Julian, who is unlikely to be much help at all, given that he comes from a place where technology is near non-existent. He's the kind of doctor who believes most things can be cured with the application of leeches...

And so there's some trace of mild relief on his face when the stranger dismisses the idea, even if he's left with the enduring sense that he ought to offer something. Given his new social position and all, it seems like the done thing. But no matter.

He flashes an easy smile.]

Well, you're not wrong. I've never seen anything quite like it before.

[He picks up his drink, takes a more sensibly-sized swig this time.]

Not long at all. I arrived this morning.

a - hi have some non-arcana previous-ish cr??

[whatsina_name]

[Phillip had very much noticed that Julian had gone missing, though he didn't have any kind of a fucking clue what that meant, and he suspected asking Asra or Portia about it would be a bad idea. So he'd just been quietly fretting about it, not sure if it's a good sign, that Julian got sent home (though of all the people he knows here, he feels like Julian settled into the city the most), or if something terrible happened.

But he starts a little when he hears the voice next to him, looking over at the older man with his blue eyes wide.] Holy shit, Julian? Where the hell have you been?

hi! the confusion of previous cr is very welcome <3

[baneful]

[Well, that's unexpected. The rakish grin falters around the edges at the sound of his own name combined with that exclaimed question, his one visible eye going wide in momentary confusion. This certainly, definitely, isn't someone he knows, but--

--but. He's had some things explained to him by this point, has encountered the confusion amongst the people he'd known from home, and whilst he still can't really grasp the finer points of it all, he at least has some idea of what may be happening, now. It doesn't make it any less uncomfortable, any less strange, but at least he has some kind of precedent for how to react. Kind of.

His smile stabilises, leather-gloved hands spread wide in a gesture of apology.]

That isn't me. Or rather um, yes I'm Julian but not perhaps the Julian you're thinking of. Or he's me only...different....

[This sounded a lot better in his head.]

Different copies of the same book, with divergent choices? Something like that.

[It's how Portia and tried to explain it to him, but somehow it made more sense when she said it.]

[whatsina_name]

[Luckily, Phillip is familiar enough with the concept that he gets the point. It's... disappointing isn't quite the right word, but he can feel a bit of the worry eating away at him again, fresh with the reminder. But if there's something Phillip is good at, it's separating different versions of people from each other. Not that he has any deeply personal reasons for that or anything. Nope. None at all.]

...Right. Sorry, then. You're probably going to get that a lot. [At least he has, presumably, run into people who've already explained it to him. That's good.

After a moment, he holds out his hand.] I'm Phillip. [It's not really fair to keep this knowledge one-sided, after all.]

[baneful]

[There's some small measure of relief to be found in that, though it seems an odd thing, to have someone so easily accept what - for him, at least - still sounds like nonsense and gibberish. But here they are, and this stranger who apparently isn't quite a stranger extends his hand.

Julian takes it readily enough, shakes it firmly before releasing the man and, just softly, he laughs.]

It certainly seems that way, um, Phillip. It isn't getting any easier exactly but at least I know what's going on, now. Sort of.