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duplicitymemes2018-09-12 11:51 am
duplicitymods) wrote in duplicitymemes2018-09-12 11:51 am
Entry tags:
TDM #1
« « « TEST DRIVE MEME » » »
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. |
 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. |
 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. |
 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. |
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. For characters with a birthday falling in the months of January to June, their designation will be Dominant. For characters with a birthday falling in the months of July to December, their designation will be Submissive. For characters with an unknown birthday, their designation will be Dominant. Arrival into Duplicity has not been used as a prompt as it is a rather large part of introducing the game and will be saved for the first in-game log. But feel free to thread it on the TDM. Also, any locations throughout Duplicity are available for TDM prompts as well! Please remember to mark any necessary content, and have fun!! |
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[ ??!!!
He got kind of used to Rider flicking his forehead or just sort of carting him around, but this is a first. Waver freezes up for a moment, round-eyed and flustered, so startled he doesn't even pull away immediately. ]
I'm not-- [ he finally lifts a hand to smack away the offending nose-pincher ] --a kid!
Stop messing around, you jackass. This is serious!
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Lancer grins as he pulls away, shaking off the smack. He barely even felt it... ]
Yeah, yeah ...
[ it is serious though, even though lancer does not voice it out loud. He isn't quite human, not in the way mortals are, but he is no longer bound by the systems of the holy grail - what does that make him now, exactly?
he can still use his noble phantasm, that is for sure; even without having to materialise it, the cursed spear lingers, a ghostly presence, like an invisible line of electricity.
not knowing how much time he has left to sustain himself, lancer will have to wait on testing whether his gut feelings are right. until he finds himself a new source of mana, of course. ]
Connected through to our plane... Pulling in people regardless of time and space.
Sound pretty damn familiar.
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He tucks his hair behind his ears; one side immediately slides free. ]
It would, huh? To a being like you.
But you haven't been summoned by a Master, and you made it seem like you don't know what's connecting you here, either. You'd know if it was the Grail. You'd know enough general information about this world in that case too, right?
[ That had been the case in his experience. ]
Can you still dematerialize? Use your noble phantasm? Though if you don't have a proper anchor, maybe it'd be too difficult to generate enough mana...?
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Lancer makes a faint, thoughtful sound in his throat, almost an agreement; it's kind of funny how their thoughts both ran along in the same direction at the same time. ]
I haven't tried yet, so I don't know for sure.
It would be troublesome if it ended up draining more mana than what I need, after all. And it's not like I know how long I've got, either.
[ without the anchor, would he end up disappearing?
Glancing down at Waver, Lancer's eyes narrow a fraction, as if gauging options in his head. ]
Hey. Wanna help me out, then?
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You could stay in spirit form unless you need to materialize. That should use up less energy, in case you--
[ Pause.
The Servant has just said something. Waver looks up suddenly, blinking several times and trying to decide if he misheard or if he just misunderstood or if he's being... propositioned ???
His brow furrows, lips pressed into a small, uncertain frown. ]
Help you with... what, exactly?
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Testing.
[ dematerialising was an option, yes, but that was only going to be a temporary solution; eventually it would run out regardless, and maintaining his existence in such a half-assed form, without opportunities to defend himself, wasn't what lancer was looking for. It was a coward's way out, a weaker choice out of the two.
Takes another step closer, he grins - carefree and easy, though he doesn't think that's any more calming for the boy in front of him. ]
I'm not looking to just exist, you know.
[ the tone is almost admonishing, but the hand that reaches out is surprisingly careful, a stark difference from earlier. Lancer takes hold of the stray hairs that's fallen forward and tucks it back behind his ear again. ]
I'm looking to live.
[ the hand strays to his jaw, tilting it upwards. Even though he seems weak, he doesn't need much; just a little bit of mana will do.
Leaning in, Lancer fits their mouths together without hesitation; the fingers on his jaw will tighten just a fraction, keeping him from pulling away. ]
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Waver does not need to ask again what it is he's looking to test, or how-- and as the Servant approaches, red eyes strangely luminescent in the low, ambient lighting, Waver finds himself backing up a step into the wall at his back.
His heart is beating suddenly in his throat, pulse spiking as the Servant reaches for him. The fingertips that brush his cheek are surprisingly warm. ]
W-wait--
[ It's the moment Waver opens his mouth that he leans down, lips covering Waver's squeak of protest before it can quite escape. Just as the fingers tighten on his jaw before he can tilt his head away, firm enough to hold but not hurt.
One small hand catches at Lancer's forearm, fingers curling around the curve of taut muscle beneath his sleeve like he might try to pull or scratch, but in his shock at the first touch of their mouths pressing together, Waver manages neither. ]
i need jesus over here
Lancer just laughs quietly into the join of their mouths - a huff of breath that's almost caught in his throat, travelling up from his chest in a deep rumble - and presses up against Waver a little more firmly, effectively trapping him that much more securely against the wall behind him. the weak pressure of his hand against his arm goes unnoticed for the most part, Lancer's attention mainly caught on coaxing his mouth to part open further so he can lick in to the warm depth of the other's mouth without hesitation.
it's not unorthodox, to share mana in this way. even without the bonds of Master and Servant between them, the prickle of sensation along his spine and where their bodies are pressed together as the mana starts to sluggishly flow, it's unmistakable. not enough for lancer to be satisfied quite yet, though.
calloused palm presses against the curve of his jaw, cupping Waver's face as he pulls back a hair's breadth away, half-lidded eyes studying the expression on the other's face carefully, though without too much interest. ]
too close cu LEAVE ROOM FOR JESUS
Waver's fingers tighten, sliding down for better purchase to the Servant's wrist beneath his jaw, blunt nails digging into skin just enough to be felt as his back is pressed flush against the wall. Lancer's tongue slides between Waver's lips, hot and wet, drawing a small whine of a noise from the young mage--
And the shock of it is a spark, a flash of heat and energy that zings down his spine and curls through Waver's veins to settle low in his gut. His breathing stutters, and so does his pulse.
One rough palm cups the side of his jaw, encouraging his head to tip, holding him in place while the Servant's tongue licks deeper into his mouth and time feels slower and all too fast at once, like he's frozen, he can't move, can't react because he doesn't know how.
He should struggle. Push the strange Servant away. Yell at him, get mad--
But when he pulls away, Waver just stares back, wide-eyed and breathless, mouth still half-open and wet. His heart is pounding in his ears. ]
Y-You...
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What are you doing?! You can't just--
I didn't say--!
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he looks unimpressed for the most part as Waver's nails scratch his skin, digging into his wrist, and he suffers the treatment for a little while (much like ignoring a small, fluffy kitten trying its best to attack you) before he decides that he's had enough. with a simple twist of his arm, he wraps his hand around the other's wrist once more and presses forward, breath hot in the scant space between them. ]
I can't just, what?
[ he licks across his lower lip quickly, chasing the last fragments of magic, the tip of his tongue tingling slightly.
privately, Lancer decides that he liked the look on Waver's face better before he got angry again. Not that this is not amusing in itself, mind you... ]
Isn't it obvious what I'm doing?
cw dubcon......
Y-you can't just--
[ Lancer's tongue swipes across Waver's lips, leaving his mouth wet, half-muffling his protests. Waver turns his face away, and this time shoves his free arm against the Servant's chest; it feels like trying to elbow a brick wall (albeit a slightly smaller one than Rider). ]
--just decide on your own!
[ The thought of Rider just upsets him further.
Why this Servant? Why was this asshole here and not the Servant Waver wants to see again? It isn't fair. ]
Stop being so selfish. I don't even know anything about you! You can't just say I have to help you now.
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Why not?
[ a breathy laugh escape him; what a question, and at such timing, too. Lancer cants his hips slightly, getting a knee up between the other's legs ... he's quite short, isn't he? so he is just going to bring Waver up to nearly his eye-level, the jumper catching against the rough wall behind him as he is dragged up. they are pressed chest-to-hip now, almost. ]
You really think someone like you can order me around?
[ clearly, with the flippant tone of his voice, he thinks otherwise.
but it's going to be an annoying business to continue on if he's going to keep struggling, even though he would be able to easily discourage that. he can feel a faint pulse of magical energy from the other, spiking sharply with the stutter of his pulse that he can feel flowing under the thin, delicate skin of his wrists. ]
You're not my master. You're just some twerp. What can you do?
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[ Even if he wasn't a Servant, just judging by the physical difference in strength between them, Waver knows he won't be able to escape the grip. He squirms anyway, fingers twitching and hands twisting a little even as his wrists are pinned against the wall. ]
Dammit, listen to me, you--
[ Fuck.
Waver gasps aloud, mouth dropping open and eyes going momentarily glassy at the pressure and the friction, the knee between his thighs leveraging him up until his toes barely reach the floor. His voice catches in his throat on the next inhale, sticking there as his chest rises and falls shallowly, too-fast, legs trembling. ]
A-ah...
[ The noise is a whimper, barely-voiced. Waver's thighs squeeze around the Servant's knee on instinct, caught between pleasure and fear, trying to keep his balance when he can barely reach the floor. Like this, he can't really squirm or struggle. Pinned, like a butterfly against a board. ]
I'm not--
It's just--
[ His heart is pounding so loudly in his head, he's almost certain it must be echoing through the entire room, certain Lancer can feel it when he presses their chests together, even through his clothes.
His Adam's apple bobs along the dark line down the center of his throat when he swallows, pulse fluttering visibly beneath the heat of Lancer's breath spilling across his skin. ]
You- you're... hurting me.
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The breathy sound from the other makes him take a deep breath, mouth parting against the hot skin, and he imagines he can almost taste it, the sharp tang of fear. It's not a pleasant thing; he isn't used to resistance like this, and he isn't someone that would keep pursuing a trail of cold scent. Besides, if he pressed on, then he wouldn't be any better than those common thugs he detested.
With a last, sharp exhale, almost a sigh, he pulls away, brows drawn over hooded eyes. ]
Hurting you, am I?
[ letting go of waver's wrists, he sets him back down onto the ground, taking a few steps back. ]
Fine. I went too far. I apologise.
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The question elicits another quiet noise and a faint nod. Waver only meets his eyes for a moment, far-away and foggy, looking a little... lost. He thinks he should be angry, but for some reason, he can't muster it. Shock, perhaps. Something else? His hands, when released, move quickly to tug his sweater down in front.
He doesn't move when he's let down. Waver leans back against the wall, breathing fast and shaky, feeling like his legs won't hold him yet. ]
You should. [ He can't look up yet, doesn't want to meet his eyes. His voice trembles slightly at the edges, rising in pitch as he continues to glare down at his own hands white-knuckled on the hem of the sweater covering his lap. ]
You should apologize. What the hell was that?!
You can't just do that. You stupid... idiot...
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Fingers catching the stray ends of the other's hair, pulling the strands away from flushed, wet cheeks, he is going to force his head up to look at him. He is frowning slightly, eyes dark with something like concern. ]
I did apologise.
[ as if... that fixes the problem... But tenderness is not really in his nature, and it's hard to treat people that way. ]
Guess I really gave you the short end of the stick in all this. Yeah, I'm an idiot.
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At least you admit it.
[ He tilts his head, trying to pull away, and leans further back into the wall. ]
Most people start with a date, y'know, [ he mutters, sullen now that the panic has started to fade, leaving only uncomfortable embarrassment. Talking, even if it's only blurted nonsense, takes his mind off his discomfort a bit. ] Or at least their stupid name.
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can't help but to laugh, a quick sound caught in his throat, at what the other says. ]
Never been on a date.
But I guess I should introduce myself.
[ an arm extended to one side, the air in the room blurs around the outstretched hand, down his arm and spreading to the rest of his body, and the clothes he'd been wearing fades into his usual garb. In the previously empty hand, a tall, red spear shines in the dark lighting, the edge of the blade catching the light in a bloody gleam.]
I am Cu Chulainn, hero of Ireland.
[ he leans his head, canting it in a slight bow, though his eyes don't leave him. ]
And what is your name, honourable magus?
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Waver purses his lips, tugging again at his sweater, pulling it back down around the sides and the back too where it had rucked up from being dragged along the wall. He takes a few deeper breaths, trying to get ahold of himself and calm down fully.
If nothing else, this is a hell of a distraction.
He can feel the whisper of magic, see it like a shimmer in the air around them as the Servant finally reveals himself for what he is:
Lancer.
Waver's eyes widen. At last, he stands fully, pushing off the wall to rock forward half a step as his gaze travels the length of that blood-red spear in the Servant's hand, and finally back to his eyes. They're nearly the same color, too-bright in the dim lighting of the private room. Arresting, holding his gaze even as Lancer bows his head.
If the gesture is meant as a joke, Waver does not pick up on it. After how un-heroically Lancer has been treating him, he's going to accept it as part of the apology as well, for once fighting down the instinct to assume everyone is making fun of him. This isn't his first time standing before a legendary hero. He's embarrassed himself enough.
Waver offers a small nod in return, in all seriousness, and draws himself up to his full -- still rather unimpressive -- height. Rumpled and sweaty as he is, it looks a little bit ridiculous, but the look in his eyes is newly determined, shoulders back, fists clenched at his sides. ]
My name is Waver Velvet.
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Waver Velvet. He has no recollection of the name, not from the memory he'd gained from the recent Grail War he'd participated in, but that in itself is not unusual - this boy seems unremarkable enough at a glance, and the difference in the period does hinder the scope of knowledge, as well.
But even then, there is certain light in his eyes, a set to his shoulders that Lancer recognises, and maybe admires a little. ]
I'm glad to meet you.
[ he finally straightens up himself, the end of the spear sliding against the ground as he leans against it, fingers loosely curled around the shaft of the handle. ]
You don't seem too fazed by meeting with Servants of the Grail.
[ most mages wouldn't get a chance in a lifetime to experience anything like this. He seems pretty knowledgeable too, in a way that hints at some first hand experience, or some intense research. ]
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[ And now, after that, his vassal-- he swore it, and he meant it, but Waver keeps this to himself at this meeting.
It all feels out of order, surreal: the strange sense of deja vu, though he doesn't know this Servant at all; the lingering fear just beneath the surface; the feeling out of place and in over his head but determined not to back down. What is the point of it? Why have they been brought here?
Slowly, Waver shakes his head. His lips quirk up faintly, a tight, wry smile. ]
Not that it matters much here.
And you... Lancer? [ He's certain his guess is right. ] What War were you given form for by the Grail, only to end up Masterless here?
[ It shouldn't be possible. And yet shouldn't be means nothing to what is. In a way, Lancer is the unluckier of the two of them, despite the mark on Waver's throat-- not that Waver is selfless enough to really think of it that way. ]
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he has to admit, lancer is surprised by the revelation - Velvet ... Surely it isn't any prestigious family. He doesn't recognise the name being from any of the main families involved in the fuyuki Grail, either. which would only mean.. ]
From the mage's association?
[ sending a twerp like this?
He's silent for a moment, his gaze dropping from waver to the wall behind him, and lancer lets out a short, sharp bark of a laugh. ]
Well, at least you survived. [ now what is that supposed to mean... ]
The Fifth.
See? There's already something in common.
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Waver follows the way Lancer's gaze shifts away from him too, the strange expression that crosses his face momentarily (though maybe he'd imagined it?) as he laughs.
Is Lancer laughing at him? ]
I did.
[ He scowls, drawing himself up again to stand defiantly straight-backed. He knows what it looks like. He knows he's being underestimated. Fine. He doesn't have to prove himself to Lancer; even though the nagging, insecure urge remains, he reminds himself this isn't about Lancer's opinion of him.
Waver's grip tightens, the fingers of his left hand curling around his right where the seal had been, unconsciously. He'd chosen to survive. He'd promised.
Live, Waver.
A sharp, unsteady inhale, swallowing the tight, heavy feeling in his chest. ]
I fought by his side, and I survived to tell about it.
So I'm not going to let someone like you push me around.
[ ...the Fifth war, though? After how everything ended, the fire, the state of the Grail-- Waver doesn't know the details. How many years ahead will that be? At least half a century? For now, he pushes aside the curiosity to focus on Lancer's face intently as he speaks, adamantly holding his gaze when he makes eye contact again. ]
Understand?
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better to live than to die - it's not something that he would have considered as an option himself, but this is different times, different age. his time has long since passed them all now. ]
Not many people can say that they fought in the Grail War.
[ especially by the side of a servant. not many masters would have the guts to do that.
a faint whisper of breeze, and Lancer lets the Gae Bolg disappear into the thin air. ]
--But you'd do better than that to impress me. I haven't made up my mind yet on you.
[ maybe it's a joke. he's got a grin starting to build on his face as he says it. ]
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waggles eyebrows
eyebrows of sin
that's how I roll, baby
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