duplicitymods: (Default)
Duplicity Game Mods ([personal profile] duplicitymods) wrote in [community profile] duplicitymemes2019-09-12 04:47 pm
Entry tags:

TDM #8


Ā« Ā« Ā« TEST DRIVE MEME Ā» Ā» Ā»


Ā« Ā« Ā« AND IT GOES ON AND ON


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.

... and you’re here! Finally! Welcome to Duplicity.

After choosing a door and stepping through to the other side, the first thing that greets you are the enthusiastic faces of people in medical scrubs and pristine lab coats. Their enthusiasm translates to eagerness as they strip you of your clothes to perform a thorough examination—you will be healed, bathed, and given a paper gown to wear until your items can be processed and delivered to your residence later in the evening. You are also given a device that accesses the network as well as the time and location of orientation.

If you enter Duplicity into the Up, congratulations! You’re a Dominant, which means you are immediately picked up by a limo after processing and taken to your 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.

The hellish summer heat is finally starting to subside, and the cool breeze suggests autumn is approaching.



Ā» Ā» Ā» TAKE A RIDE




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.



Ā« Ā« Ā« A POCKET OF PENNIES




The weather’s getting cooler, and people have begun transitioning from summer clothing to the sweaters and jackets of early fall. With jackets come pockets, and with pockets come a bizarre uptick in robberies.

Then again, perhaps the correlation is flawed. In the Down, getting robbed is a constant threat. Gangs of street toughs look for lone or inattentive people who look like they’ve got valuables on hand. Uncontracted Submissives are particularly easy to rob, since authorities have little time to bother with a lowly Submissive without a Dominant to advocate for them. One particularly nasty gang of young adult men, the Bulldogs, hangs out near the train, looking to ambush unwary Submissives fresh out of Orientation. They are prone to violent muggings and will simply beat up their target and leave them in a gutter when they’re finished robbing them.

In the Up, the streets are nominally safer, but there have been reports of a group of college-aged Submissive women taking advantage of their designation to attack travelers. They, too, stand near the train and the orientation center, looking to seduce passersby into an alley where a group of them can beat and mug their victims, usually Dominants looking to capitalize on their pretty appearances.

But you’re truthfully at risk anywhere in the city. The new arrivals are easy targets, and any brazen thief might get the idea to make some quick cash. The authorities are spread too thin to help, but perhaps LIErs can look out for one another?

Or they might just get in on the thievery. Everyone’s out for themselves, after all.



Ā« Ā« Ā« NEW FLESH LIKE A GLOVE


( CW: potential dubcon, drugs, BDSM/sexual torture, prostitution, public use )

Surrounding a large building near the orientation center in the Up, banners and fliers announcing the beginning of the inaugural Duplicity High Tech Sexpo, a trade show for businesses and manufacturers of adult novelties. Since this is the expo’s first year, admission is free and many excited volunteers are handing out vouchers all over the city. These vouchers can be exchanged for goods and services within the expo, but have no monetary value outside of it. Even if you refuse them, you’ll likely find two or three of them tucked into your bag or pocket.

Inside the expo hall, there are dozens of booths pitching a variety of entertainments. Many offer interactive demonstrations, showing off their tech for the crowds of interested onlookers. Competition is fierce, and booths try to attract attention and customers through any means necessary. There are private rooms all around the expo for potential customers to try out the products. Booths will also happily accept volunteers for demos, or try to recruit them by bribing them with cash or free samples. There’s a nasty rumor going around that some are recruiting volunteers via more illicit means, like drugging and dressing them up, but surely that’s an exaggeration…

Some of the smaller booths sell more traditional toys and accessories: leashes and collars, specialty lubes and massage oils, fetish gear, strap-ons, dildos and vibrators in myriad shapes and sizes, and other basic items. Others advertise apps for the devices, the most notable of which is HUGGR (which LIErs may recognize as a poorly rebuilt sex-themed version of a certain other app.) The closer you get to the big-ticket sponsor booths, the more elaborate and fantastic the products become.

One of the most eye-catching demos is for the Climax VR Headset. You and a partner both wear a VR headset, which displays a collaborative virtual scenario. Both partners can alter the setting and surroundings however they like, and any sexual activity conducted in VR transmits real sensations to their bodies. You can come together without ever physically touching.

Symphony Hydraulics have a large, loud booth where crowds gather to watch perhaps the most outrageous demo: a variety of fucking machines. Volunteers get stripped, strapped in, and turned on, brought to screaming orgasms in front of the whole crowd. There is a fifteen minute break between demos on each machine, as some poor intern hurriedly washes and sanitizes them between uses. In the interim, they offer smaller, portable versions for sale or rent at the expo. (Some may note that a few of the Symphony Hydraulics staff members look a bit familiar.)

Does all this high-tech equipment have you overwhelmed? Wish you could go back to a simpler time? Sir Robert’f Bedroome Provifionf (sic) is helmed by historical reenactor Robert Plum, who has also created his own line of medieval torture device-themed sex toys. Need a chastity belt to keep your Submissive all to yourself? A rack with an attached spreader-bar? An iron maiden with soft vibrating silicone ticklers inside? All the stocks and whips and chains you could ever need? Sir Robert has you covered. Of course, everything on display is harmlessly altered for sexual novelty purposes, but one might also ask to see Sir Robert’s ā€œspecialā€ merchandise in the back.

Perhaps the most unassuming booth at the expo belongs to Grandma Hattie’s Snacks and Sweets. Grandma Hattie, a kindly old Submissive, has partnered with a tech company to produce what appear to be completely normal vending machines, stocked full of her tasty homemade bread, snack cakes, and other baked goods. Vouchers are good for a free sample of any treat from a vending machine. They taste amazing and have no apparent odd effects-- until 10 minutes after consumption, when you suddenly gain an insatiable craving for a random kink. Your craving will dominate your thoughts for three hours, or until it is appeased.



Ā« Ā« Ā« PERFECTION OF THE DIGITAL




(CW: potential dubcon, objectification)

By far the largest and shiniest booth comes from expo sponsors Sexy Metal Incorporated, who have set up a display of their incredible high-tech sexbots. These life-sized dolls are made of extremely realistic material that feels like warm human skin, and come with state-of-the-art mechanics that give them lifelike movement. Engineers show off how the bots can be plugged into a computer and programmed to act any way the buyer likes.

They come in a wide variety of customizable appearances and eerily, some of the bots on display look exactly like people you may know. Booth staff encourage customers to buy these dolls, or to rent them and give them a try onstage in front of the fascinated crowds. If that’s not kinky enough, one of the engineers has purchased a VR headset from another booth, and programmed it to interface with the bot’s controls. Care to slip inside the silicone skin of another person?



Ā« Ā« Ā« MOD & OOC NOTES



Please read carefully.

On each Test Drive Meme, there will be a section noting character roles; these will vary each TDM. On an IC level, characters will still have gone through the doors but assignments OOCly are still randomized. When applying, there is a section of the application that denotes whether the character chooses "left" or "right". When participating on the TDM, there will be a third option. Players may link either a top level or a thread (five or more comments from their character) from the TDM and title the link as "Door Pass". This means that the player is choosing to take the designation that they were randomly assigned on the TDM, rather than taking the designation of a door. If the player decides to select a door rather than use the pass, then they are trying their luck; they may get the same designation they had on the TDM or the opposite. Once the application is submitted, players can't change their choice.

To assign roles to characters for this TDM, use the following guide: In celebration of our one year, pick whichever role you want for your character!

Ā» A Pocket Full of Pennies: Feel free to come up with any free-roving gangs or petty criminals you like for your characters to tangle with.

Ā» New Flesh Like A Glove: Characters can spend money on items at the expo, or may exchange vouchers for what they want. Each voucher has a value of about $5 within the expo and they may be acquired by finding them, having them handed to characters/stuffed in their pockets or bags by expo volunteers, or paid them in exchange for ā€œvolunteeringā€ at booths.

Characters may indeed try before they buy, either out in the open or using one of the provided private rooms with a partner. The expo has a staff of unpaid student interns tasked with cleaning and sanitizing products if they are used but not purchased.

Grandma Hattie’s snacks can inspire characters to have any kink you may desire.

Ā» Perfection of the Digital: Sexbots can resemble any player characters, including brand new arrivals/test drive characters. They can also resemble characters that yours knows from home. The engineers have no explanation for this, and the one who identifies himself as the designer will shrug and say he gets inspiration from many places.

The sexbots are hot-ticket expensive merchandise, so security is tight around the booth. Characters who attempt to steal or destroy a sexbot (for instance, one who looks like themselves) will be quickly set upon by guards, who are meant to eject them from the expo. However, many of the guards will take bribes from other booths to provide them model ā€œvolunteers,ā€ drugged into complacency.

If characters want to acquire a sexbot permanently, they will have to buy it or exchange a hefty 50 vouchers for it.

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




Ā» Ā» Ā» MAIN NAVIGATION Ā« Ā« Ā«

pathofvigilante: ("The Waynes always get what they want")

John Doe//The Joker | Telltale Batman | DOM

[personal profile] pathofvigilante 2019-09-14 12:26 am (UTC)(link)
Ā» A Pocket Full of Pennies | (Up/Down: The Joker )


[ John didn't know exactly how to feel when he woke up in that weird dark room, dressed in his Joker duds. He may lose touch with reality now and then, but he was sure the Arkham staff had burned his costume. He wasn't even sure if he ever wanted to see it again.

But now he's here and there seem to be more than a few bad eggs around, and well, maybe this is some kind of second chance? To do things right? To not royally fuck the vigilante thing and maybe do some actual good?

Well, a failure is a success to try!

So he's on the hunt for goons-- a convenient target when you need to beat the shit out of something, a valuable lesson learned from his bestest buddy Batman. He'll pick out ones that seem to be troubling folk though.

Maybe some people have corralled you into a dark ally. Maybe someone's coming at you with a knife or a gun. Maybe they just want to mug you, or maybe they're trying something a little more sinister.

Either way, your attacker suddenly cries out in surprised pain as a set of fangs sinks into his or her shoulder and they are hauled back with an ungodly hollar. The momentum hauls them into the waiting white extended palm and a shock cracks the air as a weaponized joy-buzzer meets the back of their head.

And down they go. ]


Now that's justice [ he hisses with a satisfied sadist's grin punctuated with a few eerie giggles. ]

Ā» New Flesh Like A Glove | ( Sexpo: John Doe )


[ a bit later, John finds something else to wear. Gotta tone it down a bit, keep his secret identity on the fly. And here...

So. Many. Things. John is getting super tempted to touch something! So many free samples-- there isn't even any need to steal anything which doesn't mean he doesn't he just doesn't need to. It doesn't really seem to phase him that everything is so heavily erotic-- he pops around the booths looking at this and that, and asking sexpo workers and fellow visitors alike a number of awkward questions. Maybe you'll hear:]


(I.) Do you know if these come in a different colour? Purple is kinda my favourite

[ or ]

(II.) Have you actually tried this? Because I need an accurate idea of the battery life. For reasons

[ or maybe: ]

(III.) Do these Unbreakable handcuffs really look unbreakable to you? Because, I tell ya, I've seen a guy that can break femurs with his fists and I'm not sure these little old things would hold him, know what I'm saying?

[ Eventually he gets distracted from bothering people by a booth of sexy lotions and ointments and such. In particular, he's extra interested in a display of flavoured lipstick.

They've got blood red in candy apple, spicy cinnamon, and swedish berries... John picks up the candy-apple one because come on that's so carnival. He plops himself into a seat (right next to you, no less!) and pulls out a small hand mirror, which he probably also got from another booth.

His grin goes ghastly-unnerving once he's applied the lush-cherry shade to his lips and he giggles in gleeful satisfaction while he nudges you with his angular elbow ]


(IV.) Look at this, it's a perfect shade of red! And it's flavoured; that's kinda kinky isn't it? [ he waggles his green eyebrows ]

Ā» Wildcard | ( OTA)


[ Hit me up with anything and I'll roll with it! If you wanna plot first PMs work for OOC stuff, but I'm also down just winging it! Either way I'm down! ]
Edited 2019-09-14 00:31 (UTC)
mutantblood: (scared)

Karkat Vantas // Homestuck // Submissive

[personal profile] mutantblood 2019-09-14 01:22 am (UTC)(link)

ooc notes:
canon point is post retcon meteor, late vriskagram.
open for cr with everyone, but i am only really comfortable with m/m smut threads for now.
character is 16. alien genitals abound.
sexual anatomy || kinks

ā–¼ Take a Ride OR Pocket of Pennies
[ This was not the first time that Karkat had been abruptly denied his reward; but it was definitely the most invasive time. He had gone from cruising along on a meteor so tantalisingly close to what would be his final battle, to waking up dazed in an unknown medical facility. The strong stench of disinfectant clouded his nose and the back of his throat even now that his orientation had come to a close. The good thing was that he was free to go, drained from the whirlwind of an experience and worn out from a very lengthy tantrum.

Bad news was the small fact that he had been ushered from the train in the Down in nothing more than a flimsy paper gown. This was not a good look for him. As grumpy as Karkat was, he was almost out of steam and was far more focused on locating his lodgings and hoping that his room mate had yet to arrive. He needed some time to wind down and process everything. Most importantly, he was feeling incredibly vulnerable and needed to combat that. The first step would be getting back into some clothes. ]


ā–¼ Wildcard
Log or Network style threads are fine! I'm flexible. Throw whatever at me. You can also PM mere here or contact me via discord @ Karkat#7671 to plot.
Edited 2019-09-14 01:23 (UTC)
lovingvambrace: (I: Not what I had in mind)

Cullen Rutherford | Dragon Age | Dominant

[personal profile] lovingvambrace 2019-09-14 04:21 am (UTC)(link)
Take a Ride

A>>
It was bad enough being forcibly stripped, picked over, and bathed as though he was somehow personally offensive, but being herded into this odd, long carriage with even odder people was beyond anything he had ever experienced in his life. If it wasn't all so coldly geometric, with crisp angles and completely alien scenery, he might have believed he was in the Fade. He'd barely had time to dress before finding himself ushered out for orientation and a tour. Much of what they said in the orientation went over his head. The train ride proved even more baffling. Each train stop had him thrusting a hand out to the back of the seat before him to prevent being thrown forward.

He stared hard at the few he saw with others kneeling before them so docilely. They'd called them submissives, but were they slaves? His disapproval lay thick in his gaze, brows drawn down and a stern, deep furrow between them. If he felt more in his element, he knew precisely what he would have done. Things here were less certain. It made sense to try to piece more together before taking rash action.

He leaned in a bit toward the person seated beside him and asked, "What do you think is happening here? Are we all slaves? Or is it something else? Was it like this where you came from?"

B>>
He'd had enough of this loud, rocking carriage that made far too many stops and felt far too crowded for his tastes. He needed to get out of the stale, claustrophobic compartment. Although he had been told he could ride it all the way back to where they picked him up, he decided he'd prefer to walk. He might learn more that way.

He had watched enough people boarding and exiting to realize he ought to stand near the door and hang onto the silver overhead rail. He squeezed past the person at his side and stood, his gloved grip tight on the metal, his stance almost comically braced, as though he feared a spill. It was hard to keep his balance despite his efforts when the train abruptly slowed and then came to a halt. He took an exaggerated step across the gap and left the platform for what looked like a park.

The weather was nice enough, if a bit hot for his tastes. He felt overdressed for it in his fur mantle and shining beastplate, vest, shirt, and gambeson, leathers, boots, and ornamental greaves. He didn't see many, if any, dressed quite like him. The clothing here was as strange as everything else.

A scrawny, pockmarked man slipped past him and shoved something into his hand before he could think to object, a flyer with Duplicity High Tech Sexpo Voucher printed on it. Only three of those words made sense to him and definitely not in whatever context they were used. "Excuse me," he said, stepping into the path of the nearest person who looked at least a little less lost than he. "Do you have any idea what this is for? I'm a bit out of my element." He'd always had a gift for understatement.

A Pocket of Pennies

A>> Attacked
"Hey." The voice rolled smoky and somehow illicit off the pretty woman's tongue. Cullen had never seen lips so red or shiny or hair quite that shade of pink. He had finally made his way back to the orientation center after leaving the train a couple of stops early. "You're not going to hurt me, are you?"

"Um..." He felt his face going hot, a flush that spread upward from his gorget to his hairline. "No? Why would I?"

"Because you could," she said. She took a step back toward the alley between the center and another building whose purpose he could't begin to guess.

He stood rooted to the spot, frowning at her uncertainly. Her clothing was worn in places, the angles of her cheekbones sharp. "I assure you, I have no interest in harming you," he said.

Was that a flash of irritation in her eyes? If so, it was gone just as quickly, replaced with naked appeal. "Then maybe you can help me instead." Her voice shifted, too, less certain seductress, more frightened young woman. "I've got... Honestly, it will be easier if you can just see it for yourself." She slipped into shadow.

Against his better judgment, hackles raised, he followed. Desperate people could be dangerous, but what if she genuinely needed help? As soon as he heard a scuff of shoes behind him and found himself surrounded by equally threadbare and hungry looking women, he knew he'd made a mistake. The sudden flash of knives in their hands proved it.

B>> Defending

Cullen knew trouble when he saw it. He hadn't patrolled the mean streets of Kirkwall all those years and learned nothing. When he saw a rather seedy looking young woman leading someone who looked as lost as he felt into a shadowed alleyway, he knew he had to follow. If it was nothing, he would be on his way. If it was what it looked like, they could probably use his help.

Perfection of the Digital

Regrets, he had a few, such as ever setting foot anywhere near this sexpo, for instance. No longer confused as to the meaning of the word, he was simply looking for the quickest way out when he slowed and then stopped before a booth with a large banner that read Sexy Metal Incorporated. It wasn't the wording that stopped him cold in his tracks and had him staring. It was the fact that one of the people standing naked and parading a seductive walk was his former Knight-Commander from Kirkwall, Meredith, and another was--no. NO.

"It's me," he breathed. "But how?" He raised his voice higher. "Knight-Commander? Knight-Commander! What's wrong with you?" (Aside from the fact that the last time he'd seen her over a year prior she was a smoking, hideously distorted red lyrium statue fused to the flagstones of the Gallows.)

Some of the people around him grew irritated, shoving at him and telling him to move on if he was going to spoil the fun. He jerked away from them and closed the distance.

A booth employee stopped him with a hand to the breastplate. "You're welcome to sample, but you need to wait your turn."

"You don't understand! That...those people." He felt himself growing more frantic by the minute, made worse by the indifference of the employee and the agitation of the onlookers. Things were about to get ugly.

Wildcard

((If none of the starters appeal, pick your own. I'll roll with anything. Just PM me first so we can be on the same page. I will also match tense and format to those who tag in.))
red6l99d: (020)

Karkat Vantas ~ Home(Trash)stuck ~ Dominant

[personal profile] red6l99d 2019-09-14 05:29 am (UTC)(link)
There is nothing this place has done or said that Kankri hadn't taken to heart and note of, not because he was thrilled with it, oh no, the entire opposite. There was going to be one hell of a letter written to a manager one day soon. He was going to have to start small, perhaps convince some other people to understand the boundaries that were being broken by even the most sacred of things, contracts, things that shouldn't be anything but held with the utmost respect. For once, the entire day, he had been silent.

For those that knew him, they knew better than to let Kankri remain silent, that meant that he had all the more to say when it suddenly flooded out. Flooded out in a tsunami of what he did or didn't enjoy about a small aspect that to someone else wouldn't mean a thing but to him meant an essay and the next six hours. In fact, he had no clue why exactly they had taken him, there was no reason to think that someone like Kankri wouldn't try to turn things around for his own benefit. The benefit that he looks like he's holier than thou and like he was actually trying to do something more than just uphold a few centuries old facade that he wasn't going to easily let go of.

The bright red sweater firmly on his person, one of the first things he did while he was being given the tour of the place and then left to his own devices. Going to something like a Sexposition sounded like the best place to actually look for people who were displeased as much as he was. The debauchery he could avoid by simply looking downward or avoiding eye-contact, or the people that were actively trying to gain the interest of passers by.


(More Hometrash time. Temporary Permissions. This character can be pretty wordy sometimes, I don't expect people to match the length of what he says if he really goes off. If he doesn't go off, then my fingers thank you.

If you prefer not to work off mine that's cool too, just write whatever and I'll try to roll with it. When in doubt, PM me.)
motivation: (Default)

dutch | killjoys | submissive

[personal profile] motivation 2019-09-14 12:18 pm (UTC)(link)
‹ A POCKET OF PENNIES ›
[ dutch gets off the train. she remembers this place; she remembers how this goes. she can't say that she's happy to be back here, but — it beats being stuck in a cryo pod. it beats having to deal with d'avin leaving, with everything being shit.

the blokes trying to sneak up on her are new. dutch has the dark line down her throat marking her as a sub, but there's nothing submissive in her posture as she walks, waiting for them to surround her, waiting for them to make the first move.

then her lips curl into a grin. any potential rescuers may recognise that she looks pleased more than cowed. ]
You picked the wrong person to rob, boys.

[ she rolls her shoulders. ]

But I'm glad you did.

[ the truth is that she's got some anger to work through. what better way to do that than to kick some arse? ]


‹ NEW FLESH LIKE A GLOVE (nsfw) ›
[ dutch wanders the expo, studying this or that toy, considering. she isn't actually planning on buying anything, but what the hells? she's got nothing better to do right now. catch her weighing a hefty dildo in one hand at one of the stands or watching with some interest as someone's strapped into one of the symphony hydraulic machines. ]

Doesn't look all that comfortable. [ she might comment, shrugging a little as if to say but whatever floats their boat.

at some point, she feels peckish and stops by grandma hattie's stand to sample a snack or two. she remembers this place well enough to realise that it's probably going to come with side effects, but she can't bring herself to really care. at least it'll be her choice, given that she knows, right? right.

sure enough, a little later, she feels the craving start. dutch isn't shy about cornering someone who looks like they might be interested, whose eyes lingered, about asking for what she wants. ]


[ ooc: pick a kink: a) rough/semi-clothed sex, b) double penetration (with a toy or ideally feat. a third person), c) multiple orgasms for her, edging for yours, d) sweet and gentle love-making weeps this is absolutely not something she'd ordinarily go for]


‹ NETWORK (@ killjoy) ›
oh what the hells
i was due a holiday, anyway

anyone remember me?


‹ WILDCARD ›
[ ooc: find dutch out drinking, hit on her at a bar or have her hit on you, find her beating up a punching bag instead of muggers, find her in the hot springs... anything goes ]
selection: (Default)

n. solo | tmfu | submissive

[personal profile] selection 2019-09-14 12:39 pm (UTC)(link)
‣ SEXPO v1
[ solo considers himself somewhat of a libertine, uncaring of the societal norms and expectations of his time. he's always been rather open-minded with regard to sex — but what he finds here still boggles the mind.

not that he lets it show. his posture is casual and relaxed, his gaze seems far less focused than it really is. he seems like a curious tourist more than a sharp spy and that's precisely how he wants to appear.

at some point, he approaches someone he either thinks looks like they know something or like an easy target to have their wallet stolen. (he's got to provide for himself somehow, after all.) ]


Excuse me. You wouldn't happen to know if they provide refreshments anywhere, do they? I'm feeling rather in need of a drink. [ please do feel free to offer to buy him one, really. ]


‣ SEXPO v2 (nsfw)
[ the demonstration of the machines of the symphony hydraulics sure are something, aren't they? solo feels — almost uncomfortable with the display, but it is captivating. he watches as the machine works, the volunteer's moans rising in cadence until they turn to screams, until the volunteer's back arches and they shudder, coming hard in what looks to be the orgasm of their life.

solo is wearing a lovely suit, far more expensive than an uncontracted sub really should be wearing (don't ask him how he got it). the trousers of the suit do nothing, really absolutely nothing to hide that the display has affected him, the outline of his cock, hard and curving upward, ruin the clean lines of the suit. solo knows it, too.

there may be someone who's caught his eye already before the performance, someone he's been flirting when he could draw his attention from the display. he turns to them now. ]


Hello. [ despite the need curling tight in his stomach, his tone is smooth and unhurried. ] I don't suppose you'd like to join me in [ he pauses briefly, delicately, humming as though in thought ] letting off some steam?


‣ HUGGR



submissiveAbout JACK DEVENY
34, open



Looking for: someone with large pockets in need of an arts, antiquities or food expert, lovers of wine, anyone appreciative of the finer things in life




āœ“āœ•


‣ WILDCARD
[ ooc: anything goes :> ]
legionare: (Default)

antillar maximus | codex alera | dominant

[personal profile] legionare 2019-09-14 12:54 pm (UTC)(link)
⁖ GALLANT RESCUE
[ max doesn't have his sword and shield and he hasn't tried to call on his furies yet when he spots the would-be muggers surrounding someone just getting off the train, but he doesn't need any of those things to cut an imposing figure and he has't yet bothered to worry about the fact that he's far from alera and what impact that may have on his crafting abilities. he throws himself into the fray with barely a second thought.

whatever else, he is a trained soldier and under the onslaught of his fists, the muggers soon crumble or disperse. ]


Are you all right?


⁖ SEXPO (nsfw)
[ after sampling some of grandma hattie's snacks, max had let himself be strapped into one of the machines at symphony hydraulics, desperate for an orgasm and entirely willing to let it be a spectacle — and a spectacle it is. not only does max cut a very fine figure, tall and muscular from years as a legionare, he also clearly enjoys the machine's ministrations, utterly unashamed in his moans. his orgasm settles something inside him, but it doesn't feel like enough.

not by a long shot.

he is handed a towel to wrap around his waist, after, legs shaking only for a moment before he draws some strength from the earth and steadies himself — and then he's stepping into the crowd, lips pulled into a grin when he catches the eyes of this or that person, sweeping the crowd for someone who might want to join him for round two.

(the fact that he's wearing nothing but a towel puts his scars on display, criss-crossed marks of whippings covering his entire back, but he isn't thinking about it and won't take kindly to being asked.) ]


⁖ NETWORK ( @ antillar.maximus )
Crows take it— [ the voice is muffled. someone is clearly not used to using technology to communicate. the sound clears up after a moment, though. ] I’m Tribune Antillar Maximus. I’ve no idea what furycrafting has brought me here, but if you’re responsible, you’re a crowbegotten fool.

[ clearing his throat, and just like that, he sounds cheerful, all threat gone from his voice. ] Now, if someone could point me in the direction of some food and drink? And if you’ve seen Calderon – Captain Rufus Scipio, that is, be sure to let me know.


⁖ WILDCARD
[ ooc: max is capable of something called furycrafting that lets him perform a wild number of things, including inspiring lust in others and enhancing his own endurance. and yes, he does routinely use these for sexual purposes, so, y'know. waggles eyebrows. let me know if you'd like him to use them on your character!

for the rest, anything goes! max is definitely going to be visiting bars and seeking casual sex ]
demonicmiracle: (052)

crowley | good omens | dominant

[personal profile] demonicmiracle 2019-09-14 02:49 pm (UTC)(link)
up and up

[Whatever twist of fate had him marked as dominant in this fucking arbitrary system, he's grateful for it. Money isn't all that much an issue, since his magic still seems to work perfectly fine (aside from not being capable of taking him home), but he doesn't think he could handle living underground. Not when he's finally free of Hell.

Still, he stands outside the apartment complex where the limo — a limo, honestly, he hasn't been in a limo since the 90s — dropped him off, and feels suddenly struck by how ridiculous this all is.

Head tipped back, he addresses the sky.]


This is a bit fucked up, yeah? Even for you.

[God probably isn't responsible for this one, but who knows.]

new flesh

[So. Sexpo.

Not his first sexpo, actually, although this one has a rather different vibe than the last one he'd popped into. The technology is considerably more advanced and the exhibitionism on display eclipses pretty much anything else he's ever run into. Maybe a Bacchanalia festival might've come close, but even the Greeks didn't seem to get quite this carried away.

The level of want roiling in the air isn't something he's quite used to running into, either. Or, well — people always want something, they're always after one thing or another, he's used to letting that simmer into background noise unless he's working on a temptation. But for so many people to all be wanting roughly the same things — sex and power, mostly — all of that lust buzzing in the air sets his teeth on edge. Crowley does his best to ignore it as he wanders the halls, investigating the booths more out of idle curiosity at what people have come up with, rather than any true interest.

It isn't until he spots Sir Robert's display that he truly stops, and that's only so he can wrinkle his nose at it.]


A lot of people died in those sorts of things, you know, doesn't seem right making a spectacle of it.

[He remembers the Spanish Inquisition, after all. Messy business.]

perfection of the digital

[The bots are creepy as anything, his plan had been to avoid them all together, but one of them had caught his eye with a vague spark of recognition, and now he's almost doubled over laughing as the poor staff vainly tries to talk him into giving it a whirl.]

No, look, it's a very good impression of the bloke, but I'd rather cut my own dick off than go anywhere near it. Last thing I want to know is what someone thinks Gabriel would sound like during sex.

[Is it actually a sex-bot of the archangel Gabriel? Is it some other Jon Hamm looking motherfucker? It doesn't matter, it's a close enough impression that Crowley's losing his mind over it.]
livetoday: (pic#13451654)

Saya Otonashi | Blood + | DOM

[personal profile] livetoday 2019-09-14 05:46 pm (UTC)(link)
AWAKENING...

[To step through a door and be greeted by men and women in medical garb-- to be ushered around, examined and prodded... none of these things are, by themselves, incredibly odd. There are things here and there that stand out as just a bit odd, yet she wonders, while she washes off, if the reason for that is not hidden within the history that she missed while she slept. It's a warm comfort to have her memories so clear even now, when the length of her hair suggests that she's been sleeping a long time, as she suspected. At her request, it's cut for her-- down to a far more familiar, far more manageable length.

But then information starts seeping in as she observes the medical personel. Saya hears bits and pieces of conversation-- words and names and places that mean nothing to her, and no mention of the ones that she would have hoped to hear. They assure her though that she will be told everything once orientation starts. She's impatient, so she insists she'll be going now.

There's a limousine waiting outside-- excessive, but not outside of the realm of things she's expect. But Saya steps around it, stretching her legs.
]

Thanks, but I'll be walking.

[Looking right then into the horizon, she realizes the extent she doesn't know about her current situation. But she's not going back. She'll walk-- even if that means she might get lost.]

POCKET OF PENNIES...

[It didn't take Saya long to realize that in all her confusion, there's one very important thing that she's neglected.

Food.

Her stomach rumbles quite loudly, to her embarrassment. Luckily, she was given more than enough to get something to eat. The food isn't the same, comforting Okinawa food she's used to but it has a good smell to it. She was really happy... at least for the half a minute she had the crepe, before it was stolen right out from under her nose.
]

Hey!! Give that back!

[Ever seen a girl looking like she's ready to kill over a crepe? Well you have now.]

DURING THE SEXPO...

[When Saya felt a weight on her bag, she was half prepared for another run in with a thief. But this time, she's been given something. That's... unexpected. She wonders if it was a mistake, and tries to give it back.]

W-wait, I--

[Buuuuut it's too late. When she looks at it properly, it seems to just be some kind of advertisement. Blinking, she reads the header out loud to herself.]

Duplicity High Tech Sexpo...?

[That sounds like the last thing she wants to attend. However... if she's going to get accustomed to the place, something like this might be her best chance to get a feel for what it's really like. So, against her better judgment, she decides to give it at least a little look. It's just as embarrassing as she imagined it would be though. Several times her bright red face is forced to look a different way because she doesn't want to see whatever public display or demonstration is taking place over at Symphony Hydraulics. But it's kind of hard to get away when there are new onlookers coming in rather quickly, drawn by the loud display. She tries to slink out, but it's impossible to do without bumping into a few people.]

Sorry, s-sorry...

END OF THE SEXPO...

[After witnessing all that, Saya just wants to get out of there and shove her face into a pile of pillows that she can scream into for a while. But on her way out she just happens to notice the vending machines of Grandma Hattie’s Snacks and Sweets. Considering what she endured, this seems like a blessing from up above. Dispensing one of the homemade breads, she takes it outside with her, to a nearby public bench to munch on.]

Ahhhh, this is so good~

[It almost makes it worth all that embarrassment. Almost. At least, until she realizes as she's finishing it that she keeps thinking back to the display. To the rough, wild way the fucking machines worked people over. Her face is warm but it's a little different from before. It isn't that she wants to try it. But more that she finds herself desiring that kind of non-stop, passionate sexual experience. Multiple orgasms, exhaustion...]

AUGH!!!

[Saya half-growls, half-yells her frustration; pushing her legs tightly together. Maybe if she just lets it all out of her system emotionally, she can get over this. So she takes a deep breath and--]

I HATE THIS!!!
trackmarked: hollow-art.com (then i guess i'm cursed)

victor frankenstein ( penny dreadful ) submissive

[personal profile] trackmarked 2019-09-15 02:44 am (UTC)(link)
( pennies )
[ after everything, victor should almost consider himself accustomed to being accosted by men larger and more powerful than himself (which aren't especially difficult to find). even so, as he finds himself snatched by the arm and dragged into an alley, he yelps in surprise anyway, fumbling for anything on himself that might be used as a weapon.

an arm fits itself across his chest, a second between his thighs, and the thug lifts him, pressed hard against the brick and feet scrabbling for the ground. it's humiliating, it's shameful, and victor sucks in a wheezing breath. ]


I don't have anything, you fool! [ why doesn't he learn to keep at least some sort of blade on him? he's still not a fighter, but he's at least familiar enough with anatomy to know where to stab. ]


( digital )
[ at first, they'd just been a fascinating distraction. machines in the shape of humans, soft skin with steel beneath. it's not until he notes something familiar that he finds his heart stuttering in his chest, shock stilling him.

proteus. it's impossible, and yet his child stands before him, perfect, scars healed and face slack as if in sleep.

his hands are shaking as he reaches out, eyes feeling damp, cupping the familiar jawline as if any moment he'll open his eyes and smile at him. ]
This-- [ his throat works. ] This is cruel.


( flesh )
[ he's still not exactly sure what happened, but he knows what it feels like to be drugged. it's not morphine. he feels dizzy and weak and too hot, and there's a strange sensation that he doesn't want to examine too clearly in the pit of his belly. ]

Stop, [ he slurs, the panic there and muffled beneath the effects of the drug, trying to pull out of the hard grip on his arm. he doesn't know where they're going, but he does know that it's a terrible idea and probably involves one of the multiple illicit, embarrassing, private demonstrations that are going on throughout this convention center. ]
shieldingfoundation: Mine. Don't take please. (pic#13158641)

peggy carter | mcu | submissive

[personal profile] shieldingfoundation 2019-09-15 05:52 am (UTC)(link)
ā–· a pocket of pennies.

                 [the moment she exits the train after orientation, brushing past people and stepping out of the way for others, Peggy quickly realizes she's being followed. it doesn't take being an agent to figure that one out. she's sure she looks like an easy target walking down the street alone and with the ridiculous mark on her.

not only that, but the gorillas, three of them, aren't exactly subtle. for Heaven's sake she can hear them! hear the sounds of their heavy footfalls behind her in between the clicks of her heels against the pavement and can hear the sounds of their breathing as they converse.

it'd be nothing for the likes of her to shake them. though easy as it would be it would mean leaving someone else, someone less skilled in handling men like them to be subjected to their heinous plans this evening. and that she won't stand for regardless of where or what she is.

besides, Peggy can do with a distraction. even if it is only temporary. all the pent up anger since the medical personnel undressed, prodded and bathed her on arrival could use an outlet.

stopping in her tracks Peggy immediately turns to face the men with an arrogant smile, one hand firmly on her hip as she addresses them calmly.]


Oh boys, are you sure you want to do this?

[she barely manages to get the question out before one of the large men rushes her.] Amateur. [she huffs, pulling her free arm up and back just before he reaches her. once he's close enough Peggy draws it forward, colliding a balled fist with the man's nose in an audible crunch and crack of bone. it's more than enough to send the man not only staggering backwards, but enough to cause the man to fall flat on his ass after doing do.]

On with it then, I haven't got all day. Which of you is next?


ā–· network;

               un: m.carter.


                I don't suppose anyone knows where one can get a cup of tea around here, would they?

                Perhaps a bottle of brandy?

                Or both?


ā–· wildcard.

[feel free to encounter her on the train before or after orientation. if you have something you want to throw at me feel free to hit me up on Plurk at [plurk.com profile] covfefeislife or PM this journal. also feel free to reach out to me if you have any questions. Peggy is taken from the end of S2 of Agent Carter.]
noassgardian: (pic#13099859)

Billy Kaplan | Marvel 616 | Dominant

[personal profile] noassgardian 2019-09-15 06:30 pm (UTC)(link)
Awakening + Train

Billy sits sullenly in his seat, arms crossed over his chest as he eyes a few other people. Submissives, Dominants... this all feels like a load of crap to him. Getting kidnapped hasn't put him in a great mood, go figure.

He's barely paying attention to the passing locations. He hasn't been here that long, but he's already been prodded and poked at, and he's already missing home and his boyfriend. Eventually, he lets out a sigh and turns to whoever is closest to him.

"What do you think about all of this?"

New Flesh Like a Glove

Sexpo. Cute. Billy is still slightly mortified by everything he's seeing. He's not naive or anything, but knowing about something and seeing it live... those are two different things entirely. Catch him at:

Symphony Hydraulics
Brows furrowed, face red, and stammering his way out of volunteering. "No. No way. Sorry-- that is... I don't."

He waves a hand. It's not often that Billy Kaplan is speechless, but damn if he isn't fumbling over his words in the least cool way possible. "Not my thing!"

Sir Robert’f Bedroome Provifionf
This isn't necessarily more his thing, but it's interesting to see some of what's been reenvisioned at least? Catch him being amused at the iron maiden or curiously looking at the chastity belt. The chains and whips are a bit much, but-- some of this stuff looks neat.

Grandma Hattie's Snacks and Sweets
Yeah, Billy doesn't exactly realize the vending machines do anything odd at first. He's just grabbing a snack for himself. He'd probably appreciate a head's up... or if he eats it, maybe he'll suddenly be game for that VR thing...

Perfection of the Digital

Eventually, he ends up at the sexbot booth. He has no idea what the hell he's gotten into, but he's not sure how he feels about it either. Seems a little bit sketch...

Really sketchy, actually, when he sees one of the bots that looks suspiciously like his boyfriend from back home. "Teddy--"

He stops himself. This time, he looks genuinely angry at the engineers at the booth, eyes narrowing dangerously on them. "How in the hell did you do that?"


network
UN: Billy666

So, can someone tell me if there's at least a comic shop around here somewhere?

Or if there's a good place to get coffee?
walkthemist: (02)

Rokudo Mukuro | Hitman Reborn! | Submissive

[personal profile] walkthemist 2019-09-15 07:16 pm (UTC)(link)
Ā» Ā» Ā» TAKE A RIDE

[Mukuro isn't a particularly pleasant companion on the train for whomever gets stuck next to him. He's tall and while he's slender, he's all long limbs and long hair and has a tendency to sprawl into the available space. And yet he still manages to look at his neighbor as if the close quarters are somehow their fault. He seems to be ignoring most of the tour, but it isn't actually true. Mukuro isn't someone that turns down free information, no matter the form it takes. But he's turned disinterest into high art by this point, and it's a convenient shield as he tries to get a read on the others.

There's that mark down his throat, the one black-gloved fingers come back to every now and again. One that even he can't seem to warp away, and that bothers him. More for the meaning behind it than the line itself. It means they can affect him in ways he can't fix, and he dislikes playing someone else's game. Most of his life has been about warping the world, situations to suit his whims. Not even imprisonment had been able to take that away from him.]


Bedroom ritual brought out to the daylight, and they get so dramatic about it.

[Admittedly he sounds more amused than concerned about it, despite his supposed designation. He can adapt; he always does.]


Ā« Ā« Ā« A POCKET OF PENNIES

[Mukuro is a terrible man to try and rob. He's lithe strength more than bulk, but combat is far from foreign to him. And he's an illusionist, which is to say that he'd traded that paper gown in for leather pants about a half hour ago. His laughter is soft but tinged with a razor-edge. There's a black line down his throat, no doubt the thugs imagining that a submissive wouldn't risk fighting back, but they'd judged wrong. The fact that Mukuro had little to offer was aside from the point.

He has no trouble defending himself, but he's vicious, cruel. There's no attempts at pulling his strength, at ensuring he doesn't injure them too badly. There's a flicker of indigo-purple light in his hand at one point, and he flings someone against the wall. He's hardly going all out or revealing what he's capable of- just enough to make a point. He generally prefers to have someone else get their hands dirty, but that was more about poetics than an actual aversion to violence.]


If you don't behave, I'm going to get irritable.

[A few of them take off, but not all of them. Maybe someone might be helpful enough to try and get him to tone it down before this attracts attention, drama queen that he is. Or maybe you want to join in?]


Ā« Ā« Ā« NEW FLESH LIKE A GLOVE

[Really, it's the smaller booths that keep Mukuro's attention for the most part. Handcuffs and riding crops, lingerie and the sort of costumes that were more about dungeons and silk sheets, depending on your interest. The high end lube and oils catch his interest, and he ends up with a few in exchange for a voucher.

As much as he dislikes humans, well. He's always had a streak of decadence, and this place appeals to it. And the way that people tend to put themselves on display, giving away their darkness and depravities? There's an appeal in that, too.

He wanders the more high profile vendors as well, but his interest is more in the people than the products. The Climax VR Headset is a bit redundant given his powers. But he is a bit of voyeur, so if someone's strapped in and seems suitably distracted to not put up a fight, he might just brush against their mind and slip into their creation. Nothing nefarious- yet, at least- just curious to see what they conjure themselves in these virtual playgrounds.

At Symphony Hydraulics he watches the displays more than anything, the way people are strapped into the machines and brought to orgasm by all the twists and pounding of the various machinery. Intriguing, the way part of the thrill seems to be the display, turning themselves into as much of an object as the devices they use. He's rather unaffected, nibbling on some chocolates from Grandma Hattie whose effects he hasn't worked out just yet. But if he ends up brushing against someone, it's likely more for the contact than out of clumsiness, even if he's loathe to admit it. What kink is he struggling with? Time will tell.]



Ā» Ā» Ā» OOC

[So Mukuro is an illusionist, and I am voicetesting like woah. Physical reference here if you want one. I don't have a kinklist put together yet, but my nos are the standard bathroom stuff/gore/vore/etc, elsewise for Grandma Hattie things feel free to roll with whatever. Discord is thatwasdumb#0150 if you want to talk something out.]
endthem: (I am Death)

Legato Bluesummers | Trigun | Submissive

[personal profile] endthem 2019-09-15 08:22 pm (UTC)(link)
→ the down
Right from one clean, white prison to another. The change had been so slight, and he'd been so used to the disjointed delirium of drugs that his previous captors had tamed him with, it takes Legato some time to even accept the shift as reality. Like slowly pulling out of catatonia, gradually leaving the layers of a deep dream, he returns to himself in steps. After arriving, he follows the absurd instructions and path laid before him with automatic and dissociative docility. He doesn't question the line now running down the front of his throat. He doesn't glace at a single other meaningless soul on the ride to his new home.

It isn't until he's finally turned loose on the city and he feels a hum in the bones of his left arm that he realizes he is truly somewhere new, there is something of meaning here, and that he needs to pull himself together quickly. Forcing himself to focus, he finds his room, finds his coat and other clothes, and sets out into the streets again with purpose.

As he walks through the Down streets, his demeanor is intense but his eyes are unfocused. He's looking, but not with the usual senses. His mind is reaching, combing softly through the human presences around him despite how stunted his ability currently feels. He's doggedly searching for something specific, but also trying to observe, learn, and catch up as quickly as possible along the way.


→ pennies: hunted
It's only a matter of time before a dazed-looking individual wandering the Down streets without direction calls the attention of predators. He's tall and built like he might be able to hold his own in a fight (not to mention the absurd, psychotic-looking coat he's wearing) so the thugs wait until they can thoroughly surround him, boxing him into an alley.

With several thugs poised at either exit, their prospective target stands quietly in the center, unmoving. They stand shoulder to shoulder to cut off any route of escape, though he hardly seems to notice or care. Barely looking in the direction of the apparent leader, he sounds only disappointed and tired when he speaks.

"...This, again. You never change, do you?"


→ pennies: hunter
With his mental senses feeling so infuriatingly numbed, Legato quickly finds that his abilities are far weaker than they should be. Even with how his previous prison had found ways to separate him from his powers, he'd still been able to reclaim them in full whenever he was free. Here, he's caught in an unsettling limbo where some aspects of his powers seem to be functioning at a level close to normal, while the rest are pale reflections of what he should be capable of.

So, when another mugger attempts to jump him down some shady side street, his patience runs out.

From an outside perspective, it will be hard to tell that anything is wrong, at first. And even when it becomes clear that a struggle is indeed taking place, who is the target and who is the assailant is a little muddled. By all accounts, there appears to be a man in a monstrous-looking white coat watching calmly as a burly ruffian has both hands wrapped around their own throat, attempting to choke themself out. Though, really, how strange is something like that compared to other things happening Down here?
inaurate: (to jack my style)

Claude von Riegan | Fire Emblem: 3 Houses | Submissive

[personal profile] inaurate 2019-09-16 06:18 am (UTC)(link)
1. a pocket full of pennies

[Claude may be more out of his element than he's ever been, but you wouldn't know it looking at him. In all of his strange life, nothing had been as strange as this place, but he still managed to pull off his usual unflappability with remarkable skill. Revealing how lost and confused he is would only make him more of a target, after all, and he's already a tempting prospect for thieves based on his looks and dress.

Unfortunately, the thieves who aren't deterred by his walking around the Down like he's lived there his whole life are exactly the type that are too dangerous for him to handle on his own. Particularly when he's without a bow.

Despite his wariness, one wrong turn is all it takes for a small group of men to corner him. They appear to be a mix of Dominants and submissives, and he spares a darkly amused thought that at least they were inclusive in that regard.

All he's been able to acquire for self-defense is a small, fold-able dagger. It's a handy thing, certainly not something he'd ever seen in Fódlan or Almyra, but definitely not enough. Not against five of them, all with weapons of their own, which they draw now that they've got him cornered.

One man has a small, strangely shaped bit of metal with no blade, but a barrel pointed right at him. He demands Claude drop anything of value he has and he "might not get hurt". Now especially wary that the man presenting himself as the leader is the one with the strange weapon he can't identify, Claude smiles, hands raised in surrender.]


Come on, gentlemen, let's talk this out. I know how it looks, but I've only just arrived. I'm afraid I don't have anything for you. [Shrewd green eyes take in his surroundings, potential weapons, cover, or escape routes. Even a distraction would be enough to make a break for it. He's certainly not going to let himself die here.]


2. bits and bobs

[Ever curious, particularly about the level of technology that was so much further advanced than what he was used to, of course Claude made it to the "sexpo". Looking around at all of it, though, he can't help but wonder what these people could have achieved if they weren't so focused on their sexual proclivities.

He charms his way from booth to booth, collecting vouchers and listening with especially keen interest as one of the vendors explains something called an "app" that he can apparently put on the strange box he'd been ordered to carry with him at all times. A couple pointed questions is all it takes to get a basic demonstration on how to use the device itself.

He smiles and winks at the man as the impromptu lesson finishes.]
Thanks for the help. I'll be sure to [what was that word again] download your app. [He gives the vendor a friendly clap on the shoulder and walks off with a few more vouchers and very useful knowledge. And all it cost him was a bit of time and attention. Too easy, really.

The next booth over has what he understands to be the more common assortment of sexual toys. Claude picks up a dildo roughly as thick as his arm with amused horror, commenting idly to the person next to him.]
I don't know what I'm going to do with all these vouchers. Surely no one needs that many sexual products.


3. sweet symphony (nsfw)

[At least some of the vouchers he's managed to acquire are good for something more practical: food. Sure, it's a little dessert cake, but it still puts something in his stomach, and there doesn't really seem to be many other food options about.

Ten minutes later, he's made his way to one of the larger booths, where there have clearly been very-- interesting and crowd-drawing demonstrations going on most of the day. Because of the crowds, he hadn't been able to see what exactly was happening, but now he's gotten a spot near the very front in between demos.

The woman running the booth does a short explanation on the machine as one of her assistants leads out a nervous but eager-looking naked young man. He's strapped down onto the machine, and Claude feels his face start to flush.

And then the machine starts and heat pools in his gut. It thrusts a dildo into the man's ass, fast and relentless, and within seconds the volunteer is crying out in pleasure, writhing as though trying to get away but the straps binding him keep him in place. Claude swallows roughly, unable to stop from imagining himself in that man's place, strapped down, helpless against something that won't ever stop until whoever's controlling it tells it to, no matter how overstimulated and desperate he gets--

Suddenly self-conscious that someone might see just how affected by this he is, he looks around cautiously, but of course, everyone is watching the demo with various levels of arousal.]



[ooc: coming from post-golden deer route. let me know if you'd like me to avoid spoilers! wildcard option also available, i'm flexible!]
Edited 2019-09-17 20:18 (UTC)
magocracy: (shone like a star)

Dorian Pavus | Dragon Age | Submissive

[personal profile] magocracy 2019-09-16 07:14 am (UTC)(link)
I. take a ride

Sheer miracle and effort of self-control are all that deliver Dorian through processing and orientation, regretting all the while the door he had chosen to open. It's immediately clear to him the disadvantageous situation he's now in. All he has to do is study his environment. It's not that he hadn't paid attention to what he was told during the earlier explanation, just that it hadn't made the slightest sense -- and now he carries only a vague awareness that he is something branded Submissive.

Branded in more ways than the metaphorical. Dorian's fingertips drift to his chin where a stark black line is tattooed over dark skin down his throat, bisecting his collarbones and ending on his chest, beneath fabric. A more upsetting invasion than almost everything else he's experienced yet. At least he's in his own clothing; one small mercy.

Trapped in the small moving compartment with both hands wrapped around what appears to be a metal hand-hold, he watches a woman kneeling at the feet of another individual with the same black tattoo on her neck.

A lurch causes Dorian to knock forward into the someone's back, his white-knuckled grip all that saves him from throwing his full weight forward. "Oh," he groans. "I think I may be sick."

II. pocket of pennies

After the tour, Dorian exits the train on blessedly solid ground. His mind is made up to return to the hovel of a room he's been assigned as his living quarters until he can get his head in order, perhaps after he's determined the quickest way to acquire alcohol in the Down. It doesn't look like it will be very difficult. The appearance of this part of the city is dismal; bleak and gray and out of the sun, closer to the Imperium's poorest districts in his memory, shrouded by damp humidity that clings to the skin. Very far from pleasant.

His mood is black by the time he's free of the crowded moving compartment. A bad state to be in, he knows, but there's not much to do about it given current circumstances. It's almost unsurprising when the men come upon him. Dorian had wondered if his day could get any worse, but at least vagrants will ill intentions are more familiar than everything else he's witnessed thus far.

There are three of them. All broad-shouldered, mean-faced thugs. They look as though they're ready to mug him right here in the open. In fairness to the criminals, the surrounding area is seedy enough he doubts any bystanders would even bat a lash let alone come to his rescue.

"Well." Dorian's expression closes when he sees the flash of a knife. "Is it too much to assume polite conversation is off the table before I'm attacked, then?"

III. new flesh like a glove

By this point Dorian's grasped the basic purpose of Submissives and Dominants, and while he considers himself well-versed in realms of debauchery and pleasure, what he finds at the exposition somehow manages to range far beyond even his wildest imaginings.

Toys are not new to him. Walking through the variety of displays and booths, however, he realizes how woefully uneducated he is to their full capability. Dorian is a difficult man to fluster when it comes to the physical realm of sex, or so he'd like to believe. He has plenty of experience. And yet he stands in horrified shock at the performance put on by Symphony Hydraulics. It isn't so much the act itself as it is the blatant publicity of it. During the intermission, he leans toward the nearest individual and asks in a low, dubious tone: "I trust this isn't an everyday event?"

Most alarming to him is the realization that there's no preference for the sex of the actual paired individuals. Later, brusquely touring the displays with the intention to get away, he comes across two men very busy with each other in the shadow of one of the booths. He watches just long enough to feel thoroughly ashamed at himself, then moves on.

Dorian finds himself standing in front of Grandma Hattie’s Snacks and Sweets, considering whether he can stomach the indulgence. If someone has already made a purchase, or is simply idle nearby, he'll turn toward them. "What do you think? Any recommendations?"

IV. wildcard

[If none of these are appealing, feel free to come at me with something else! I'm flexible. I'll also adjust style to whatever, prose/brackets/present/past.]
Edited 2019-09-16 07:16 (UTC)
synanthrope: (Saya - predator's gaze)

Satya "Saya" Wallace | World of Darkness OC | Dominant

[personal profile] synanthrope 2019-09-16 02:02 pm (UTC)(link)
and it goes on;

[Saya is not precisely sure what's happening, but you can guarantee she doesn't look it. Within minutes of being escorted out in a paper gown, she's taken that gown and refashioned it into something that, despite being made of paper, does not look like anything that would come out of a hospital. Instead it looks like something relatively chic, although even Saya can't make miracles.

She's also barefoot, because fuck that noise.

She is sitting almost still, watching people move in and out, her eyes bright, a very small smile on her face. She's beautiful, but there is something just slightly off about her. Maybe its the fact that she doesn't have a scent of any kind.

Finally, when someone approached her, she speaks.]


You would imagine clothes would be the first thing they provide.

[She says it out loud, almost to the air.]

You wouldn't have any recommendations?

pocket full of pennies;

[After she has her clothes, she's much calmer, even though no one could really tell the difference. She dresses sharply, with a confidence of someone who knows they are both attractive and fashionable. Her shoes are tall; they add an extra 5 inches to her height.

However, there is something in the way she moves. It's not obvious; but there is a sudden strangeness, a bit like maybe her hips don't connect just right. Like she's used to having another set of legs catch her. It's subtle, but it's there, and maybe that - along with her purse and shoes - is probably why they go after her.

She can hear them.

As soon as they're close, grabbing her, she turns and suddenly there's a brown recluse - not just one, many, ten or fifteen, on his arm where she's grabbed, and they dude goes still.]


Oh.

A spider.

[She says it a little flatly, and a couple of the guys run, but she turns and grabs the guy.]

You shouldn't go after pretty girls.

[She doesn't see one of the dudes that didn't run away behind her, trying to come up on her with a huge, long pipe.]

wildcard; prompt away, or contact me [plurk.com profile] chelicerae for a specific prompt!
emet_sulk: (01 serious)

'Solus zos Galvus' | Final Fantasy XIV (NPC) | dominant

[personal profile] emet_sulk 2019-09-16 02:41 pm (UTC)(link)
(ooc: Tentatively testing this out, apologies for mistakes or faux pas. Also PLEASE note whether you need me to avoid spoilers for the SHADOWBRINGERS storyline, and if so, from what point.)

1. Take a ride
[ This city is, he decides, so far removed from anything familiar that it can only be another world.

The gown they let him out in is an insult to the current climate and thus promptly fashioned into his usual garb with a snap of his fingers. Now free to ride the train to whatever this 'orientation' is without indignity, the man widely known as Solus zos Galvus boards, takes a seat, and watches the scenery scroll by through the window with folded arms.

It's jarring, seeing this slipshod blend of architecture coupled with Allagan-level-- nay, beyond Allagan technology. And to spend it on such crass advertisements...

His brow furrows. He turns away from the window and takes in the other occupants of his train carriage as they file in and out at each stop. Should they happen to take a seat next to him, he strikes up conversation: ]


Is everyone in this city obsessed with fornication?

[ OR if you happen to be someone who looks or wears something unusual-- ]

And what might that be?
2. New flesh
[ Curiosity eventually wins out - entry is free anyway, so he takes the opportunity to slip inside the expo hall and absorb the sights. Though perhaps 'absorb' isn't the word he wants. Perhaps 'observe from afar', 'watch in mild fascination and amusement', or 'avoid invitations to sample the merchandise' would better suit.

Sex is not something he finds unfamiliar or distasteful of course. But to see it all so blatantly out in the open is...an experience, to say the least.

He wrinkles his nose at the heavy smell coming from the open demonstration and drops his gaze to the unassuming snack and sweet booth nestled betwixt the sexual displays. Solus approaches with a small measure of caution and stares at the food on offer. Given the theme of this event, there is no chance in all the seven hells that this food is as innocent as it looks, he thinks. ]


I don't suppose there are any normal cakes here? [ he asks, suspecting he knows exactly what the answer will be. ]
3. Pocket of Pennies Gil
I am not in the habit of carrying gil on my person, I'll have you know. Or whatever currency it is you seem to use here.

[ This statement delivered drolly to the group of thieves who have cornered him against a wall. He has his hands up to show he's unarmed - they have knives pointed at his person - but Solus appears to be wholly unimpressed by the threat they seemingly present. ]

I would suggest you find other prey. I don't feel like wasting any more of my time or energy on petty thieves today.

[ But the thieves refuse to leave, even stepping closer to touch the tip of a knife against his throat. Solus sighs. ]

I did warn you... [ He points at the nearest one and fires a small, shadowy bolt from his finger, the force propelling them into the opposite wall with a nasty thud. ]
superoverrated: (64)

klaus hargreeves | the umbrella academy | submissive

[personal profile] superoverrated 2019-09-17 12:38 am (UTC)(link)
* network; un: #4
Oh, hey.
I'm gonna get right down to it.
Sobriety is super overrated.


[ He's alone here. Not even Ben to keep him company. Klaus wants to be numb again. ]

I've been to seven bars, three strip joints, and a laundromat.
There's nothing there.


[ Klaus isn't quite desperate but the voices were loud here. Too loud. So loud he couldn't stand it. All of them vying for his attention and, what, his help? He didn't have any of himself left to give these people. ]

It's been forty-five years.
You have to help me.

I'll do anything if someone points me in the right direction.


ooc
[ Content warnings for drug/alcohol abuse. Klaus is from The Umbrella Academy series. He can talk to the dead if he's sober enough but he'd prefer not to be. I've already apped him in but I'd love to just kick off some cr with him! ]
saints: (šŸŒ™ your shoes are cute.)

tris clark ( original ) — submissive.

[personal profile] saints 2019-09-17 12:52 am (UTC)(link)
a pocket of pennies. ( cw: mild sexual harassment )

Hey, so, uh, let's get one thing straight. I'm stupid broke.

[ tristan raises his voice loudly from the back most part of the alley where he's pinned between a greasy-feeling brick wall and guy who looks like he could probably snap him in four twiggy bits. his breath smells like a sour rendition of five guys burgers and fries and the way he's attempting to pat him down is gradually becoming more grope than it is an active bid to search for some semblance of cash on his person. ]

I just got here, why would I start my day off by lying, buddy, huh? [ leaning to the side, away from his assailant, tris yells ] You know being a bystander to a mugging is just as bad as doing the mugging yourself! Hello!

[ the sound of an impact, fist to jaw, interrupts tris' attempt at trying to get someone's attention.

so yeah.

anyone? anyone? bueller? ]


new flesh like a glove. ( cw: potential dubcon, drugs, bdsm/sexual torture, prostitution, public use )

[ he should be exhausted at this point. like really exhausted. everything should hurt, the heat frothing over in his belly, surging down past his hips and cresting his thighs. he should know better at this point that putting something labeled as "free sample" in his mouth would lead to something like this, but it's comical to just avoid it all. free samples can't all be nefarious ploys to get you to fuck, right? but of course... a warm, dizzying set of hands guiding him playfully behind curtains, down some steps. he yields at the hands pulling at his clothes, at the comfortable leather around his wrists —

hell, he barely can bring himself to care as the fucking machine starts working its magic between his spread legs in front of a very live audience. it doesn't even register that he's on display, thighs parted and body arched prettily. there's a hand resting on his ribs as his chest rises and falls, skimming over his belly with a glove that steadily makes its way down his cock, pumping it until its color has deepened and he's left wanting.

the first orgasm goes great, everything those shitty romance novels say it's like: sparks behind the eyes, a heat exploding from your loins (that's harlequin romance novel for dick) all that good stuff.

and the second orgasm's not so bad either.

the third's dicey. truth be told, he's basically suffering. how they wring three out of him is absolutely bizarre. tris can vaguely see out of the corner of his blurring vision that some of the "volunteers" are being rotated in and out but maybe they like something about him (reality is, they really do. tris arches his body prettily when he's on the edge of orgasm, he twists desperately in his bonds and puts the strength of the machine on display, and shows just how much ecstasy the device can pull out of one person with how the machine fucks him without mercy.

but he's definitely at his last, though the symphony hydraulics display runners don't seem to be thoroughly done with him yet. so he might need a bit of bailing out. or maybe volunteer yourself for the show. ]


wildcard.

[ hmu baybee you probably have my number, if not i'm open to pretty much anything on this list. ]
girlofsteele: (but I wish I could feel it all for you)

Anastasia "Ana" Steele | Fifty Shades Trilogy | Dominant

[personal profile] girlofsteele 2019-09-17 02:10 am (UTC)(link)
And It Goes On And On

[Ana had been horrified to find at the bottom of the elevator not the lobby of the Escala but someplace she's never seen before. never imagined. none of her classic British literature had prepared her for anything like this. not even Christian? whispered her subconscious, an all-knowing sneer on her face.

but she was taken, stripped, and bathed despite her meek protests that she needed no such thing. they didn't pay particularly close care to the six welts on her ass, scrubbing her there as thoroughly as any place else with no comment.

surely . . . surely those marks had to stand out as unusual? but those six belt marks were healed and soothed as though they'd never been inflicted in the first place. she didn't know how to react to the physical evidence of such an epoch in her life being removed so easily and she bit her lip tightly, remembering the pain, remembering Christian making her count out the number of her humiliation.

she was dressed in a paper gown, the type of which she'd wear during a visit to the doctor's and just as revealing. she struggled with it, one hand behind her to clasp the gown closed so that no one could gape at her nakedness. she suspected that they were doing it anyway, despite her best efforts, and she cast a leery eye at those surrounding her, on the one hand daring them to comment. on the other hand, praying that they wouldn't.

fortunately for her, she was soon ushered into a limo and driven to a duplex. what looked like a very swanky duplex. she stared at it, confusion writ across her face. surely this couldn't be hers . . . could it?

she turned to the nearest passing person and hesitantly asked]


This--this is mine?

A Pocket Of Pennies

[fortunately, Ana's clothes had been returned to her and she put them on before venturing out to explore the city. except they weren't really her clothes, were they? they were hers bought by Christian.

at the thought of Christian, what had happened, what she'd lost, she felt fresh tears spring to her eyes. she squeezed her eyes tightly closed to keep the tears from falling down her cheeks and continued to walk.

as a result, she literally ran into a seductively dressed young woman, sending herself sprawling on the ground. she lost the battle against her tears and they spilled down her cheeks like a river, caught as she was between humiliation at her own clumsiness and her memories of Christian]


I'm. I'm so sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going. Are you all right? I didn't hurt you, did I?

[the girl didn't answer. she only beckoned Ana closer. struggling to blink back tears, Ana moved to follow]

New Flesh Like A Glove

[Ana couldn't help but be horrified by the myriad displays at the High Tech Sexpo. it was like the Red Room of Pain, only even worse. terrifyingly so.

she wanted to run, she wanted to hide, she wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and have everything around her disappear. she squeezed her eyes shut and clamped her hands over her ears in an effort to blind herself and drown out the cries of pleasure, the strident claims of the people hawking their wares.

even that wasn't enough. she found herself crouching down on the ground, knees drawn up to her chest, face pressed between her knees, fighting back tears of humiliation and discomfort.

careful, or you'll trip right over her]


Perfection of the Digital

[after finally gaining control of herself and rising to her feet, Ana wandered the Sexpo. all around her, people were eagerly participating in sex acts she'd never dreamed possible and they did so without fear or shame or humiliation.

she couldn't do it. even her inner goddess was quavering at the sights to be seen and she'd so eagerly encouraged Ana in her pursuits with Christian.

so Ana wandered, trying her best not to look at anything in particular. but . . . just then. something caught her eye. a glimpse--just a glimpse!--of familiar unruly copper hair above the crowd]


--Christian! [was torn out of her like a piece of her soul and she found herself fighting against the crowds, trying to get closer, trying to keep breathing through the mingled joy and terror of encountering Christian again after he'd--he'd done that to her.

when she finally forced herself through the crowds, completely disregarding the signs around her in her, there he was standing right before her. Christian Grey, in all his glory, dressed in an impeccable charcoal suit, white dress shirt, and grey silk tie. the same grey silk tie he'd used to bind Ana twice before.

despite the severe expression on his face, the one so similar from the time he'd shown her exactly what he was capable of in the Red Room of Pain, fresh tears of joy and of trepidation born from their parting after he'd--after he'd shown her what he was truly capable of sprung to her eyes and she hesitantly reached up to cup his cheek.

he felt warm and real to the touch, it had to be Christian here to save her from this horror and she gave him a quavering smile.

she breathed out his name like a caress]
Christian. Christian. You're here. You're here. You've come to save me. [Christian didn't respond, his face locked in the same intent stare from before. Ana peered into his eyes. no warmth, no compassion, no heart was reflected in his gaze] Christian!

[she turned to the person next to her, her eyes beseeching them for reassurance, for a kind word, for anything] What's wrong with him? Why isn't he responding?
niffinesque: <user name="easycompany"> (holding on)

Alice Quinn | The Magicians | Submissive

[personal profile] niffinesque 2019-09-17 02:30 am (UTC)(link)
i. Take a Ride;
[ Alice has chosen a window seat, even though it's technically not her assigned one. She doesn't really see the point in sticking to rules--they're seats, she can get a closer look at the world whizzing by her if she wants to.

In truth, it's a distraction. Too much has happened for her to quite process everything at once. She's smart (too smart), but there's that stupid thing called emotion cutting through her thoughts, making everything thick and messy like clotted cream. She has access to a map, but she's still eyeing everything sharply as it passes, a keen look behind the thick frame of her glasses. She's memorizing. If she focuses on memorizing things--little things, street names, storefronts--she doesn't have to think of her situation until she can get off of the bus and to her new 'home.' She doesn't have to think about being gathered around a fire with her friends, dressed in black, tossing a mug into the flames ceremoniously.

She glances up when someone looms over her (it's not hard to loom, she's a short woman and currently sitting), and it takes her a split second before she makes the connection. ]


I have your seat, don't I? [ It's not necessarily friendly, but that's just her general persona--and it's only a semi rhetorical question. Blue eyes rake the other up and down, lips pressing into a thin line. She doesn't move. Not yet. ]


ii. Pennies;
[ She hasn't been here for long at all, but Alice Quinn is not an idiot. The Down is absolutely abysmal. Even with her magical know-how and Thibadeau's Planar Compression, her place still feels cramped and suffocating. The taboo of being a 'submissive' (stupid, really--who had initiated all those times with Quentin? It wasn't him) has already got under her skin. If she wanted to be treated like a second class citizen she would be slumming it with Hedge Witches back home.

There's a haughty part of her, a terrible part of her remembers what she once was: a being of pure power, an unearthly, ethereal, creature with knowledge beyond all of humanity. She had burned once, with glorious blue fire. Now she's here, gaze sweeping into alleys warily. She's already been mugged on her first day, and she'd rather it not happen again. That's the only reason she spots it: perhaps it's a dominant who's wandering around where they shouldn't, perhaps it's a gullible submissive. Either way, Alice sees someone in trouble and immediately steps into the alley with them. ]


Stop!

[ Sounding cool isn't really her forte. Without waiting, she stretches both hands out, gripping one hand between te knuckles of the other's open palm, and squeezes. A blast of telekinetic energy surges towards them, knocking the mugger back and sending him flying. Alice, hair half in her face, runs as fast as she can in her heeled boots. ]

You need to be more careful.

[ Spoken like she actually knows the lay of the land already. She doesn't, but at least she hasn't gotten mugged.

Again. ]



iii. New Flesh Like a Glove;

[ Alice is watching the fucking machines, arms crossed, knees self-consciously together. She's in the crowd, jaw set tight, but her chin is held up as if defying some sort of her rule she's made for herself. She says nothing, just stands, mesmerized but refusing to admit it before swiftly turning heel once the demonstration ends and the intern cleans everything up. She nearly careens into someone in her haste, mumbling an apology in a strangely high voice, embarrassed as she moves her way out of the crowd. She'll be making her way to Grandma Hattie's sweets, and the sugary treats are making her mouth absolutely water. ]

iv. Wildcard;
[ If you want something special, feel free to PM me! ]
corrumpere: (Default)

ardyn izunia | ffxv | dominant

[personal profile] corrumpere 2019-09-17 06:20 pm (UTC)(link)
Ā» RIDE

[This, Ardyn swiftly realizes, is not oblivion.

Though perhaps the gods have deemed him unworthy of that sort of finality; it's likely poetic to someone that he should anticipate endless dark and instead be presented with a riddle and a choice followed by an assault of bright light, eager probing.

He has been here before. Through one door a monster and another a marvel, and it seems, this time, he has not been designated a monster.

At least not yet.

He appreciates the window seat on this train ride, the view of a city reminiscent of one built by someone he knew long, long ago. Whether you're his lucky seat-mate or a stranger he tips his hat to as he walks the cars, Ardyn comments with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes:]


So thoughtful of the powers that be to give us a grand tour.


Ā» PENNIES

[There's little reason for Ardyn to be in the Down beyond sating curiosity, and despite the voluminous layers he wears (which may seem a bit much, even for burgeoning autumn weather), enough skin is visible beneath his collar to make clear that there is no mark on his throat.

He supposes having many pockets makes him look ripe for picking. As Ardyn ducks into an alleyway, there's already a tussle underway: five to one circling their victim, though they all turn to look when Ardyn darkens their doorway, as it were. Two of the thugs break off from the rest to approach him, with clenched fists and a flash of a blade, though Ardyn catches the wrist of the one holding the knife and twists until he drops it. Continues twisting for a moment after, actually, and leans in to murmur, clicking his tongue in disapproval.]


Ah, I wouldn't try it. You'll likely get more than you've bargained for.



Ā» FLESH (nsfw, potential dubcon, 18+ only please)

[It's been a long while since Ardyn last occupied his thoughts with carnal pleasures. Pain, however, is familiar, and the cliche that pleasure comes with the territory is all too accurate.

The machines are intriguing, and he does love a good spectacle, but for the moment he's more interested in what Sir Robert keeps in the back. He appreciates the quiet of a private room, dimly lit with a variety of implements laid out on a table for his perusal. The leather is supple, the steel sharp, and he's unlikely to leave without making a purchase or three.]


Lovely. [It's hard to say whether he's referring to the bullwhip in hand or the volunteer secured to a cross in the center of the room; also hard to say whether said volunteer was brought here willingly, but Ardyn isn't one to ask.]



Ā» WILDCARD / ooc notes

( feel free to adjust where you bump into ardyn in the above scenarios-- FLESH is particularly flexible, since he's likely to wander the booths and is probably amenable to playing with strangers. i don't have a permissions post up for him yet but feel free to PM with questions! he's a villain with nebulous intentions so keep that in mind when going the nsfw route, and we can certainly talk limits/etc out over PM. my only ask is that no one under 18 hit up FLESH; he's ota otherwise.

i'll be hitting tags later tonight (EST) and tagging out on here when i do but if you want to opt-out just shoot me a note, no hard feelings! )
Edited 2019-09-17 18:21 (UTC)
jewelmagic: (blush)

Rin Tohsaka | Fate/ | Submissive

[personal profile] jewelmagic 2019-09-17 08:50 pm (UTC)(link)
Take A Ride. Arrival.

[ Arms crossed over her chest, long hair cascading down over her shoulders and onto her arms, Tohsaka sits in the chair she's been assigned. Not out of any strict adherence, but because she knows that causing a fuss in the train will serve nothing. She needs some privacy to gain footing for what the hell is going on, and she somberly trusts the notion that she's being taken somewhere with housing in her name.

There are innocents that surround her, she knows that, given there are several who also wear hospital gowns. When she hears what she perceives as upset from a stranger who has been recently passed by someone in street clothes, no mark on their neck, she finally spits something out. ]
Watch it! [ She doesn't attempt to comfort the person she thinks was nudged or kicked or any other variation of being disturbed, but she does glower at the passerby.

She bears a mark on her neck, too. For the time-being, it doesn't unsettle her. She doesn't know what it's for (she'll find out, tyvm), but she's familiar with timely tattoos for magical purposes. This may be similar. May not be. But for the moment, she's annoyed at anyone who looks like they might have an upper hand. That's just not right or fair. ]


Symphony Hydraulics.

[ Tohsaka stands part of a crowd, watching as a supposed volunteer is stripped down and placed on a piece of fucking machinery. She'd come upon the area just in time to be unaware of the reality of what will transpire and with a gasp, both hands fly to her mouth in shock at the sight. ]

Why is this happening? No one would want someone to see them in such a state... [ She paid attention at orientation, fully absorbing all details about life there in the city (and, frankly, not going along with most of it, including her position as a submissive.) But this? Publicly being fucked for others to watch? It's too much, and her eyes search for meaning from you. ]

Grandma Hattie’s Snacks and Sweets. Open to F/M. CW: exhibitionist sex

[ Her own desire for any sexual acts has been nil, though she's tried to allow herself to become desensitized to the city's reality. At least enough to play off that none of it's bothering her. It's what she has to do to regain any semblance of control.

She uses a voucher she's been given to buy a savory dish, eating it quickly and alone, sighing to herself at a table. She tries to relax, convinced she hears distant moans (she does.) Her face flinches now and again as she clearly struggles and yearns to relax, not paying mind to how long she's been sitting until the very air around her suddenly brings chills of anticipation over her skin. Her eyes pop open, hot and annoyed. ]
How?! I'm all covered up. [ She absolutely is wearing enough clothing that a chill shouldn't have gotten to her.

She sighs softly when she shifts, thighs brushing together with her movement to bring a familiar need coursing around her pussy. Want suddenly sweeps over her, and one hand reaches to caress fingers against her skirt, pressing against her underwear, desperately trying to work over her clit. She stands like that, touching herself over clothes, lips pressing together as she spots a man and moves toward him. Her gaze is heavy with lust, voice husky, and her hands shift to undo her skirt to pool around her feet in stockings and shoes, white panties on display. ]
Please, I need something inside of me. You. Your cock. Anything you want to fill me up with. In my pussy, my ass. Please. Do it right here. [ She reaches a hand to touch a table they're next to, a different one than she'd been eating at. ] I want everyone to see.

[ Her hand slides down into the front of her panties, forefinger slicking against wetness then curling to slide in and out of her pussy, eliciting a moan. Later, she'll loathe that any substance, any force, caused her to act this way. For now, though, she only has being a fairly subservient exhibitionist on her mind. ]

[ ooc: F/M only for the moment, please. Wide open for various kinks to play out (including penetration from non-body part objects, as long as they're overall sanitary. Vaginal, oral, and anal. Also open to your character being under the effects of food themselves, if they wouldn't so willingly go along with her demand. ]
envien: hollow-art.com (prison cell in your mind)

lucifer ( original ) dominant

[personal profile] envien 2019-09-18 04:26 am (UTC)(link)
( take a ride )
[ lucifer sits as if he owns the train and everything in it, at ease and unconcerned, strange dark eyes more intrigued by the others riding the train than the city and its sights. human cities are human cities wherever one goes, he finds; it's the creatures that populate them that make them what they are.

the shape he wears--for now, at least--is that of a young man, dark-haired and dark-eyed and beautiful in a way that's inexplicably terrifying, some kind of dark miracle made flesh. he is, after all, what he is, no matter the form he dons, and that always bleeds through.

it's no surprise, then, that there's an empty space all around him, as if people know on some spiritual level what's boarded the train with them. (it's the same instinct a rabbit gets when faced with a wolf.) even so, he smiles as the doors slide open and others board, charming and helplessly, hopelessly attractive. ]
Don't be shy. I saved a seat for you.


( new flesh )
[ it would doubtless surprise several entire religions, but lucifer is not, in fact, everything that's been said of him. he is not the origin of sin, even if it's his domain and his kingdom; his father created that, as he created everything, planned everything. his father crafted hell as lucifer's prison, to punish him for asking questions, for wanting more for he and his siblings.

so despite what some would doubtless think, lucifer is not here to tempt mankind into sin. they do quite enough of that entirely without his interference or prompting.

what he is here for is the creativity of mankind in their pursuit of sin. it's delightful, really, the contraptions they come up with. it's not the first time he's seen many of them, of course, but the blatant, shameless display of some of the machines charms him utterly.

he sways in close to someone else observing a young man being relentlessly fucked by one of the machines, something dark and delighted and beautiful and horrifying in the hellish gleam of dark eyes, in the way otherness practically coats his warm golden skin. ]


Listen to him cry. [ he breathes out a sigh of pleasure. ] He's so humiliated, and never knew he could love the shame of it. And he's so close again, and it hurts, but the drug won't release him and the machine won't stop. [ his lashes dip over his eyes, coy. ] The staff hasn't noticed you yet, but they will. They're going to want you to be next.


( wildcard )
[ or.. prompt him.. i'm easy. ]

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