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 « « «

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"The city," he answers. His gaze cuts side-long, noticing the way Victor sizes him up and down. Kavinsky knows that he's all lean lines and sharp edges, as dangerous to himself as he is to others. Victor's expression doesn't reveal much, but that's fine with him.

He snorts a laugh and looks out at the crowd.

"Born citizen of the down, huh? That your way of saying I look like trash?" he asks, grinning wickedly as he lolls his head to give Victor his full attention again.

"No," he relies evenly, "If I thought you looked like trash I'd say as much."

His own eyes drift across the throngs of people as well and though he feels when Kavinsky's eyes return to him, Victor pointedly continues to survey the area.

"You look the lower city won't crush you. That's rarer than you might expect and selection process is fairly arbitrary."

Looking back toward the other man, Victor's attention shifts to his throat.

"Not that it seems like you'd need to worry either way."

"It can eat me alive, but it won't fucking like it," he says of the Down. But Victor's right: he won't have to worry about it. He grins like a knife and downs the rest of his drink.

"So I've been told. That I can get whatever the fuck I want. Joke's on them, that's not fucking new."

"So you're saying you're something that causes indigestion," Victor says in a flat tone. "That's good to know."

Watching Kavinsky finish off his drink, Victor tilts his head to catch the bartender's eye and makes a light gesture between the two of them.

"Same again, I assume."

The second declaration Kavinsky makes doesn't go unnoticed either as Victor's eyes narrow slightly as he tries to gleam the meaning. Maybe it's pure bravado, maybe this younger man is just made of money, or maybe it's something stranger--Victor is certainly accustomed to stranger somethings.

"I suppose this is all very boring then if it's nothing new for you. Sorry to hear that."

He's not sorry at all, the sarcasm thick on his tongue before he drains the contents of his own glass and sets it aside.

"Couldn't you fuckin' tell? I'm a man of wealth and taste." Kavinsky can't even keep a straight face as he says it. He grins and nods to the bartender, confirming his drink order. It's not completely a lie: he came from money, even if most of it was probably ill-begotten, given his father's line of work.

But that isn't what he meant. Sarcasm drips from Victor's mouth and Kavinsky laps it up.

"Poor fucking me, right? It's not boring it's-- different. Arbitrary makes it different."

He scans the crowd, noticing the line tattoo on some people and not others. He's never been in a place organized quite like this, but class disparity, among other things, is nothing new. That this place makes it arbitrary is interesting. No one here got to the top of the ladder because of their family or place of birth, or because they're genetic lottery winners. Luck of the draw, that's it.

While Kavinsky struggles to keep a straight face, Victor clearly struggles to find the humour, his eyes closing to roll them as he shakes his head slowly. He didn't much care for attitudes like this during his almost-completion of college and ten years later he cares for it even less.

"Clearly. But taste comes in a lot of forms. I'm not sure ours mesh."

Regardless, when the next round arrives promptly Victor slides the glass across the bar top toward the younger man, lifting his own in a half-hearted 'cheers' before letting his eyes follow the path Kavinsky's map out.

"But if arbitrary suits you, you'll find plenty of it here. I wouldn't let yourself get too relaxed in your unmarked state though. Our hosts tend to have some interesting ideas when it comes to progressing and expanding the scope of their program."

"It would not be the first time the world turned upside down, my man." Kavinsky thinks he could hack it in the Down as well as he can manage the Up. Maybe better, but he's not sure. He sips his drink and goosebumps rise on his skin, then fade. Whatever he took is kicking in nicely.

"What's your taste, Victor?" He looks at the man next to him, a little more discerning now. "What do you like?"

Victor cocks his head a fraction, still trying to get a read on whether what’s coming out of this guy’s mouth is an exaggeration or something else, but he doesn’t chase after that answer just yet, preferring to purposely not feed the attention of those grand kind of statements.

“What do I like?” He echoes with an arcing eyebrow. “I’d ask you to be more specific, but in this sort of place that could mean anything.”

The ice shifts in his glass as Victor considers his answer, a slow smile spreading across his face, his features sharpening with a keen, wolffish impression.

“I like control.”

Something in him shivers at the answer, and Kaivnsky's pretty sure it's not the drug. Shit. He needs a cigarette after the look that goes with the assertion. Something reckless and hungry inside him wants to know what that looks like. What control means to someone like Victor. It's written in the seams of his clothes, in the schooled expression he's been wearing since Kavinsky came over. But is there more? What's deeper? What does it look like when Victor doesn't have control?

He wets his lips and looks away, a grin lingering on his face.

"Shit. Well I can't help you there."

In contrast to Kavinsky's shudder, Victor is precisely at ease with the set up of everything. He knows that the city brings all sorts of people with all sorts of abilities and powers, but even in the face of many of them Victor hasn't found that he needs to be anything other than unwaveringly secure about his own sense that he is always probably the most powerful person in any given space. There are some possible exceptions, but he'd be hard pressed to admit that aloud.

In any case, he's not in the least bit wondered about this man and what Victor views as his posturing and when the reply finally slips through Kavinsky's teeth Victor can't help but give a slow, pleased smile. Good.

"No, I don't imagine you could."

Shifting his glass carefully, Victor keeps his eyes fixed on Kavinsky.

"And what about you, Joseph? What is your taste?"

"Fast cars, loose morals," he answers. "Control."

But he thinks his idea of control is a little different from the way Victor manifests it in his very person. Kavinsky controls his boys, his pack of dogs, and as much as he can outside of that. But other times, it's all fast and loose and reckless, thinking and doing off the cuff. Not everything has to be under control, least of all himself.

He shivers again, a pleasant tingle all the way out to his fingertips. He's pretty sure that's the drug. Or maybe it's because he's wondering, again, what an out-of-control Victor Vale looks like. He grins and lolls his head back.

"Breaking from reality."

Boys’ toys, it sounds like to Victor, not necessarily in a disparaging way, but it’s a place of pleasure that he had never clawed for personally.

But the more he watches Kavinsky speak and move the more Victor sees flickers of something with teeth. Not just teeth in the sense of the fang-filled grins the younger man tosses up, but something deeper and darker, a maw that Victor knows he has himself hidden not too far beneath the surface.

Kavinsky is probably high on something too—Victor can feel the thrumming in the air around Kavinsky, or more accurately can feel the energy chattering away incessantly along Kavinsky’s nerves like an old dial-up internet chord.

He leans across the bar slowly, closer to Kavinsky with a kind of vague amusement playing over his lips.

“Breaking from reality in a drug-induced state?” How nostalgic.

“Or are we talking something more literal?”

Because who fucking knew in this place.

Kavinsky shifts his hips, his weight, when Victor leans in, closing a bit more of the gap between them.

"Yes," he answers with a cat-ate-the-canary grin. "But right now? It's drugs."

He isn't entirely sure what the pill he popped earlier was, only that it was in his pocket and therefore something of his own making. Something he can trust.

"Do you partake, Victor, or is that out of your wheelhouse with the whole control thing?"

He knows people that get high to feel in control, and others that get high to feel out of it. Kavinsky makes no difference in purpose, only in results. He knows what he wants to feel, so he make sure that's what he gets, every time.

"I can tell," he answers dryly, perhaps amused, perhaps wildly unimpressed, it's a little tricky to say.

He doesn't rush to provide Kavinsky with an answer as he takes in that razor-sharp smile and the careful answer about reality-breaking that doesn't really provide much more information.

A slow curve of an odd smile appears on his face and it's not entirely pleasant.

"I did. Once upon a time. It ended up a little messy."

Liquid fire slides through his veins and Kavinsky doesn't seem remotely put off by the dry amusement or whatever it is in Victor's voice. Goosebumps rise and then fall again, and he thinks he can feel the music thrumming over his nerves.

Perfect.

He manages to focus on Victor's face and something about that smile sends another shiver through him. It's not a good smile. But it's interesting.

"Messy is my MO."

“Somehow,” Victor says through his knife-smile “I am not surprised to hear that.”

He holds up a pale hand, giving a vague wave from this wrist.

“I’m just commenting in the vein you’re presenting, mind. I wouldn’t want you thinking I’m saying you’re messy prematurely.”

Folding his hand over the other, he turns a question over in his head like a coin over knuckles.

“What kind of world do you come from? One with drugs, clearly, but what else? Are you from a version of Earth?”

"Yeah. Home sweet home. Virginia by way of Bulgaria."

He watches Victor's hands, the way they move. It's not a weird question, not after the day he's had. He doesn't know what to expect from this place, and so it's best if he just turns his assumptions way down. Easier to take surprises if he expects, potentially, the impossible.

"What about you, my man?"

Virginia. What are the chances.

Victor's eyes narrow subtly at the disclosure, though the addition of Bulgaria is a bit of a surprise and throws him slightly.

"Also from Earth," he replies, then almost as an afterthought he adds. "And America. But not Virginia. You could say I was somewhat mobile before arriving here."

"Where were you, exactly? You said mobile: where? What highway, even, if your ass wasn't in a city?"

The thrum of recognition wars with something else - maybe the bass line. Whatever he took, he needs to make sure he gets more of it, and soon. He likes this feeling, he thinks.

And, because this place is fucking weird like that, he adds: "What year?"

"I didn't say I wasn't in a city."

He gives Kavinsky a steady look, the sort that shows a person who is used to not divulging more than they want to. Victor isn't in the business of advertising his movements and locations and not just because he broke out of prison with a fellow inmate.

"But the Earth I know is the early twenty-first century, the second decade. So this isn't so much of a culture shock for me in terms of technology, urban life, and so on. But the rest? The systems they have in place?"

He lifts one shoulder in a noncommittal shrug.

"That has taken some adjusting to."

"Mmm, the system." He laughs, because fuck systems, but he's been warned, sort of, that there are consequences here. Kavinsky wonders what they are, how much he can poke the bear. He pushes his hair back and takes a shivering breath.

"Yeah, I'm sure there's gonna be an adjustment period." But he can handle it. Nothing has taken him down yet, and he's pretty sure that if something does, it isn't gonna be this place.

He looks at Victor.

"You wanna get the fuck outta here?"

Ahhh the grunge-filled joys of youth.

Victor hears the teenage defiance in Kavinsky's voice, the way he handles The System in the same way that adolescent rebellion has such a strong link with the idea of sticking it to the man, but the man back in their very similar Earths is not running an urban caste fuck prison with methods of mental and sexual conversion.

He smiles with faint, dark amusement at the comment about adjustment--there's nothing he can argue with on that point because it's true, there is an adjustment period for everyone and Victor's personal version of that has been grappling with how to handle a three-times-a-month sex quota with almost no sex drive to speak of. He makes it work though.

And his adjustment period has also involved getting used to hearing the kinds of offers that Kavinsky is makes now, but in this case Victor can't help but smirk a little behind his glass.

"Perhaps some other time," he says simply, draining the remaining liquid from his tumbler. "I'm not sure I want to play with mind poprocks tonight."

It isn't a no, which means it's practically a yes. Not now, later. Fine. He's got time - he's got nothing but time now, apparently. He shivers at the feeling of fire on his skin. Memory or drugs? Not sure.

"Bummer, I got the best you'll ever have." He tips his head, meeting Victor's gaze. "I mean it. Whatever you want, I can get it. Just tell me what you want it to do."

Making up drugs is one of his favorite things. Kavinsky finishes his drink and sets the empty glass aside before he stands up straight again.

Maybe for some people the way Kavinsky's gesture would be like a finger beckoning toward temptation, but Victor's fortitude is made of stronger stuff than that.

"I don't doubt that you do," he comments lightly and probably not fully convinced, adjusting the cuff of his coat as he draws to an elegant stand before leveling the younger man with a cool stare. "And I'll keep your offer in mind, but it's not my go-to vice."

And definitely not with a teenager with trouble sparking fire in their eyes that Victor hardly knows. It's not a hard dismissal, but he is drawing his lines in the sand for now.

"Maybe I can give you some control to play with."

Lines are for sports and K doesn't play those kinds of games.

Even K can't tell if he's trying to hook something in Victor or just laying out options for another encounter. He means it, though. If control is Victor's vice, maybe he can put something on the table. There's something about the man that just-- sticks in him. Like a pin. Like a knife. And Kavinsky has never known how to leave sharp things alone.

"And if it's something else.... I'm all ears."

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strikesthrough - 2019-01-20 22:53 (UTC) - Expand

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likeathief - 2019-01-20 23:56 (UTC) - Expand

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TDM #4 ( revised )

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Apologies for my slows; the work week is a little meaner on me

i totally get it, no worries

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