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duplicitymemes2019-09-12 04:47 pm
duplicitymods) wrote in duplicitymemes2019-09-12 04:47 pm
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TDM #8
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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. |
 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. |
 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. |
( 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 “special” 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. |
 (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? |
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! » 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. » 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 “volunteering” 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. » 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 “volunteers,” 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!! |
no subject
It was an apology he did not know what to do with, except draw further scrutiny over the entire situation. Dorian remained close to the wall; his palm covered the mark on his arm, feeling it sting against the open air, a bit dizzy on his feet. He understood with enough blood loss he might lose consciousness, an outcome that would need to be avoided at all costs.
At least "his humanity remained the same." Dorian let out a breath.]
There's this again. [The sadness and anguish like a humid fog. It was what drew him toward this corner in the first place.]
You... are not always like this, are you? [To venture a guess. He did not dare approach for fear of startling the vampire.] It's quite possible something in the environment changed you.
[Or he really was so unstable. Dorian did not know him well enough to say. Still he kept his voice low, measured, composed, because it was the least he could do after that glimpse into another's mind.]
no subject
To his surprise, Dorian remained despite his warning.
And to add to this pain he continued to enquire as to his condition. The knot tying in his belly tightened. This couldn’t be fair. His selflessness was torture after his mistake, he wanted to curl inside himself, split his stomach in two and let that stolen blood fall out of him.
Whilst Alucard wasn’t obvious in his expressions he was still emotive. So this pain, this guilt, it showed in that ethereal countenance. Tortured, taught brow with sympathetic, broken eyes.
Why won’t you leave.
He despaired, frightened of himself and frightened of that kindness. ]
I am not. [ He eventually conceded a reply. ] But I’m not susceptible to influences like most. I doubt anything here could impact on my… demeanor.
[ He took a step back, for his sake. Or maybe for both their sakes, for Dorian’s body and his mind.
Of course all thought of that silly, insignificant bite of food had slipped his mind entirely as it still happily worked through his system, tickling at the edge of his frayed mind. Whispering sweet nothings about how Dorian wouldn’t miss a little more blood. ]
And even if it could, why would you care at this stage?
Do you enjoy soulless monsters hurting you.
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A soulless monster, is that how you view yourself?
[One which apologized and retreated, shed tears over mention of its mother; but also one which raged into violence and cruelty. That duality was not lost on Dorian.
As Alucard stepped back, he moved forward to reclaim the space. It was not without tension and caution; his arm continued to burn. The desire for healing magic, without elfroot potions at hand, stood out in his mind.]
Whatever you may be, I suspect it is more complex than you give it credit. And I'm not so fragile as to cower at a wild animal's bite.
[Curiosity or stupidity drove him, as well as the suspicion it truly was some unknown affliction that caused this behavior now.]
It'll heal.
no subject
The response was internalised, it served no purpose in being shared, apart from perhaps making him come across as even more socially defunct. But perhaps the lack of response communicated his feelings on the matter. Alucard had very little love for himself and what he may have approved of under good circumstances was in tatters currently.
That tear Dorian noticed clung to Alucard’s angular jaw. He had forgotten about his existence until the moment it fell and landed on his collarbone. A flash of fatigued annoyance as he rubbed the wet line that ran down his cheek with the back of his hand. When had that happened.
Dorian’s encroach raised the small hairs at the base of Alucard’s neck. Was he posturing? Why take the risk for someone he didn’t even known.
And then something happened. A hint of a personality, that had been suffocated under the mood changers and his self-hate, showed. Dorian’s comment, whether intended or not, amused Alucard. Whilst sadness always slumbered in his eyes, it seemed passive under a flicker of levity. The very corner of his mouth quirked in a wicked, tiny grin revealing the glimpse of a single fang.
When he quipped back there was a dry, cynical sarcasm that indicated a wit and intelligence. ]
Oh, so in your eyes I’ve graduated from soulless monster to wild animal.
What a pity I didn’t have someone with your positivity to speak for my family a few decades ago.
no subject
Not at all. But you did bite me like a wild animal. Did you not?
[He lifted his palm, revealing the wound, sore and swollen red. Due to the depth of punctured skin, it was still bleeding. The pressure he had applied was an attempt to stem it, but it wouldn't be truly helpful until he could procure bandage to wrap. This city's tools for injuries could work magnificent wonders, he'd found.
Dorian also did not consider how stupid it was to flash that which a vampire craved right in front of their face.]
That's me, an endless wellspring of positivity. Don't be stubborn. How are you feeling, and how is it different from what you normally would feel? Try to describe it in words.
no subject
As soon as Dorian’s blood touched the air it seemed to immediately reach Alucard’s nose. Ah, that intoxicating scent. He felt his mouth water behind sealed lips and his jaw muscles tensed, visible under those razor-shape cheekbones. His fingers gripped into small, tight fists and there was a slight, just audible, grunt.
He stared at the ring of roses, seeping wasted blood into that useless garment. How he needed to--and before allowing himself to finish that thought Alucard robotically turned his head to the side. Eyes locked on the bite mark until the last second.
Describing it in words seemed like an insurmountable task now. Eloquence forfeit in lieu of composure.]
Sensitive.
I am… more sensitive than I normally…
Am.
no subject
I see. Then, there it is yourself: if you were not as sensitive as you feel now, you would not have attacked me.
[It wasn't as though he had proof. He knew nothing about this man and what he was capable, knew even less of what it meant to be a vampire from whatever world he came, but the logic was reasonable if one considered it a struggle of will. To give in, or hold out.]
It's possible it may wear off. I can't say for how long. Though it has never happened to me personally, I have heard it described - consuming something untoward, scenting something strange in this place... and then becoming suddenly possessed of an uncontrollable urge. Usually for sex. I suppose I can't say whether vampirism falls into that category.
[Then again, he could be off base completely. Perhaps this was an ailment beyond the likes of Duplicity's doing.]
no subject
As he continued to listen to his (rather attractive) silky voice the words consuming something untoward hit him. His relaxed expression tightened with confusion, doubt. ]
That elderly woman...
[ He mused, thinking back to the food he had eaten. Tone rife with disbelief. ]
I exchanged a voucher for some food, but that couldn't have affected me like, could it?
[ It was as much a question to himself as it was to Dorian.
The thought of his mother had certainly grounded him, but some elements of the poison(?) were still coursing through his veins. He still felt a desire to encroach on Dorian, to sup on that life, to feel the warmth of that human skin under his fingertips, his lips. Even without the toxins in him Dorian was attractive; wit, intelligence, kindness and non-judgemental - all the qualities Alucard admired.
He tried to physically shake those thoughts out of his head. ]
no subject
I... don't know for sure. [What a question. How could Dorian even begin to guess what might have been done?] You said you were not as prone to influence, yes? Perhaps, even if it did affect you, it isn't the same as it might affect another.
[A personalized hell. That appeared to be the running pattern.
Still he could feel those golden eyes on him, cat-like, the narrow of their focus. He wasn't under the illusion he'd broken the vampire from his trance. How strange it was, to feel the weight of that gaze - and know it wanted him so fiercely. Something dark and primal tightened in his stomach.]
We should at least get out of the street. I'd rather you attack me again than some witless local.
[At least Dorian had experience with monsters and night creatures. He gave a gesture, turning to walk.]
no subject
Did he still keenly observe Dorian? Of course he did. Now that he had broken his promise on feeding on another and his blood was quietly bubbling in his stomach there was no way he couldn't. Whilst he battled the urge to 'finish the job' there were small triggers he noticed that were signaling that the poison was still in his system. Hidden as it was, he could feel his tongue running along the back of his teeth, trying to conjure up the fading memory of his taste. His hands found his pockets, where he ran his thumb over his fingertips obsessively to try and replicate the warmth of his skin and each time he inhaled he could've sworn that he could smell Dorian.
As if he wasn't already deathly attractive, his self-sacrificing nature made him all the more desirable.
A sardonic chortle preceded Alucard's response. ]
I see. So you're trying to further appeal to me with your martyr-like nature.
What's next then, mage? You'll lead me to some nice secluded area where you show me the cut of your collarbone and tell me that my horrific nature is 'not my fault at all' and prostrate yourself in front of me to the point that I can no longer resist you?
[ He smiles, but by God is it a sad one.
He's almost angry at Dorian, angry at this wretched place, to show him the capacity for kindness when he is himself at his worst. A personalised hell indeed. ]
What choice do I have, lead on then.
no subject
Is that what you'd wish me to do? Personally I don't think it suits your tastes. You'd probably prefer if I put up a fight, called you something nasty and forced you to attack, rather than turn over with my belly up. Or am I wrong?
[It might not be in his best interest to strike up a conversation of this nature, but Dorian's stubborn streak extended to his proclivity to sass and backtalk like the best of them. Truthfully, he had about a dozen questions to ask: How do you subsist on blood alone? How often do you require it? Upon consumption, how does it affect your body and your abilities?
None of which were appropriate for the moment, but still pressed curiously at his mind. As did his wonder at the woman he saw in those memories of which did not belong to him - was she a human? Could a vampire be born?
The creature's appearance was almost a heartbreaking picture of graceful, lethal elegance. He had to be the most beautiful man Dorian had ever seen in his life, and he'd seen plenty of them.]
No, I'm taking you back to where I live so that I might be able to clean up this wound. What are you called? Do you have a name?
no subject
What an expert you are in my tastes.
[ With the wrong tone, that could've come across as rude, but the wicked smile and teasing tone softened Alucard's words. It may not have been very wise, however, to have made a quip about tastes seeing as less than an hour ago Alucard was drinking Dorian's blood. The connection was obvious to him a second after he said it, but he wasn't about to highlight it himself.
He also didn't correct Dorian, hinting that he may have been right about his penchant for the rough and tumble side of exchanges. ]
Where you live, hm...
[ In Alucard's mind this was going to go one of two ways. One, he was actually taking him to a church, where he was going to be met with raving locals wielding pitchforks setting up a pyre for him or... he was just going to his home, exposing not only where he lived but leaving the two of them alone. Putting himself in further jeopardy.
He wasn't sure which one would be worse (or more dangerous, perhaps) at this stage. ]
Ah, sorry to disappoint you but I do have a name, although it's rare that I hear it.
My name is Adrian Ţepeş.
no subject
Which was why he decided to sidestep the conversation on tastes, for now.
The journey wouldn't take too long to reach the Down. And with a Dominant at his side, no one should bother him. Dorian focused ahead on the direction they went, striving to ignore the press of the gaze on his back, and mostly failing.]
Adrian, is it? [Here he might have said, it's a pleasure, or any number of formalities. None of them seemed to suit.] Dorian Pavus. Why is it rare that you hear your own name?
[His intent was to keep the conversation going until they reached their destination, for better or worse.]
no subject
[ It's not a weighted comment, he doesn't feel responsible for her death as his father does--did. Alucard loved his mother and all experiences surrounding here were warm and, for the most part, happy. Of course she had disciplined him when he was naughty (which he often was with his unnatural abilities) but she also taught him a great deal. Her influence helped form him into the deeply sensitive man he was today. ]
Most refer to me by an alias, which is Alucard if you're at all interested.
[ Dracula backwards, ah, how very creative the people of Wallachia are.
He continued to follow Dorian, noting the area and how it steadily began to degrade. Did he live in a slum or were his negative predictions about to come true. He was used to being stared at, pinning the reasoning on fear or disgust. Alucard rarely thought that hungry eyes may have been lilted more towards attraction over aggression. ]
Hm, Dorian.
That's a nice name, Greek in origin if I'm not mistaken. Its root is supposedly that of Doros, a legendary Greek hero - or so they say. Doros was the son of Helen of Sparta, apparently the most beautiful woman in the world.
[ A cheeky grin followed. ]
But humans are so prone to exaggeration.
no subject
[Alucard or Adrian. He found himself preferring the latter, if only for the fact it was a real name and not an alias. It would feel strange to call him something untruthful. Did not people generally favor their own given name, or was there purpose behind the alias as well?
Before Dorian could ask after the meaning of 'Alucard', that bit of trivia came next. He turned a puzzled look back in time to catch the grin, and then he forced his gaze ahead, focus on the path they walked.]
Perhaps there's something to that. I am quite attractive.
[Easy to fall to flirtation, to flatter his own ego as he often did, than meet those gold eyes now. A dangerous game to play with the creature who'd pinned him to the wall and ripped through his skin; too bad he often went against what was best for himself. A self-destructive tendency, perhaps. He didn't analyze it.]
But, no. It isn't 'Greek' - I come from a world called Thedas, likely very different from your own. The name is Tevinter. As for its historical roots, I honestly couldn't say. Though I do like that tale of Doros.
[The Down grew darker, dingier around them. He led to the hotel where the submissives were assigned; it wasn't a place he'd spent much time, to be honest, but it would be less public than the streets of the Up. At the entrance, he turned to look at Alucard.]
Well. Here we are. A bit of a shithole, don't you think? You'll no doubt have much finer accommodations to look forward for yourself. Such is the divide of class in Duplicity.
no subject
If you are an ambassador and representative of Thedas then perhaps it is just as well that it different from my homeland. With people like you around I doubt anyone could focus to get anything done.
[ A half tease he just couldn’t resist. Not that he seemed very able to resist anything at the moment.
A moment’s pause outside of Dorian’s accommodation, such as it was. Dismal and depressing, it looked like a venue that had originally been quite grand but decades of disrepair and neglect had reduced it to a shadow of its former self. That made it seem all the sadder.
The comment regarding class was lost on him since he’d not spent more than a few hours in Duplicity and his only experience thus far had been the trade fair and Dorian’s company. ]
Lead on.
[ He said simply, adding in a characteristic bit of backchat as he followed Dorian to his room. ]
As I remember it, you were the one who asked me here. I’ve yet to see where I’m supposed to stay, if I’m to stay here at all.
[ He stalked Dorian to his temporary home, keeping a good distance from him. His eyes, glassy and liquid, were hyper-focused on the exposed back of his neck. The clean line between his dark hair and smooth skin, the outline of his spine. He studied how his flesh stretched over the bone and-- and---
He had to stop that train of thought… surely?
But how lush he smelt, even surrounded by the filth of the Down slums. His nostrils filled with the scent of his clotting blood; thick and rich, concentrated and-- he shuddered, lips parted and moist. ]
You must know that you’re going to regret this.
[ Just let him in, let him into that private space, lock the door.
Let him give in just once. ]
no subject
At the door to his assigned apartment, he paused. The whole while he'd led, Dorian had opened doors using the hand on his injured arm as the other was occupied applying pressure with shirt fabric, and the movement stung each time, reminding him of the teeth-marks embedded in his skin. He knew his skin messy and bloody beneath. The shirt would be well beyond repair.
It was true. Dorian was the one who asked him here. At the time it had seemed wiser than leaving him to the streets, for someone else.
It would be wiser now to let him in, but then trap him in the room alone, until this bloodlust wore off (if it did). His mind entertained the option; but he doubted he could keep someone like the vampire in any space he did not want to be. Even with hasty magic.
Dorian remembered earlier's fear - but he also remembered the glimpse of quick tears, that look of sadness, the slow unraveling imagery of the woman in his head. And the thrill of it, too, secret in his own mind, something he didn't wish to admit. Dorian sighed as he placed his hand on the door handle and pushed it open.]
Yes, probably.
[Lucky he did not have a roommate. It was a small space: two beds in the main living area, a tiny kitchen, the basics of furniture. It was tidy, at least. Dorian shut the door behind them, then turned toward the bathroom.]
I'm going to clean and bandage this up. You can entertain yourself for a few moments, can't you?
no subject
He heard the quiet click of the latch, heralding the privacy he had been waiting for. Dorian’s words washed over him like an invisible tide, he noticed them but didn’t take note of them. Something about tending the wound.
The wound he had given him.
If only he had been in his right mind, he might have even gone to tend the bite with Dorian whilst apologising profusely. But in this state there was only one thought that came to mind, seeping down from his skull, along his jaw and onto his tongue like poison. ]
Why would you waste it.
[ A criticism, not a question.
Lightning reflexes afforded him the pleasure of snapping his vice-like grip around the wrist of Dorian’s healthy arm. Thoughts of his innocent, caring mother were long gone, stamped out and replaced but a repressed lust. A desire he had pushed down into the pit of his belly, bubbling up with each accidental, vulgar flash of Dorian’s skin, the perfume of his skin and the lilt of his voice.
Alucard pressed that wrist against the apartment’s wall, the flimsy drywall divide seemed to bow under the pressure of his grip. Firm and immovable but not crushing. A familiar position for them now, perhaps.
As he kept him in place with one hand, he cruelly took the wrist of the damaged arm and hoisted it up, extending it. A long, protracted lick of the sweet, clotting blood followed. Molten gold eyes locked on Dorian’s expression. Waiting for a reaction, eager for it, whether good or bad. ]
no subject
Dorian thought perhaps it wouldn't be as shocking to have a mouth on an open wound the second time, but he was wrong. He could feel the drag of the vampire's hot tongue as it collected a trickle of blood down the length of his extended forearm. The punctured skin burned upon contact, and he heard himself make another sound that was low and reedy as he fought against the grasp, instinctively trying to escape even when he knew he couldn't. Not without using magic; and even that could be risky.
Focus. He had to clear his head and focus.]
I should have asked before, but what does it do to you? How does it compare to another's? [Dorian couldn't quite stamp out the cold seed of fear in his belly. His eyes hung on the connection of that mouth to skin, pink lips over the red wound.] My blood, that is. It... should be rather magically potent.
[Was he essentially connecting a dangerous creature to a channel of pure, raw power? The thought was terrifying. But perhaps Alucard couldn't make use of blood magic, and instead this was only ordinary fuel.
Which part was better? The latter, definitely. He was grateful for the years of research and training he now had - that this didn't send him screaming in terror, only evoked curiosity and some reaction even darker, more sinister, belted down in his subconscious.]
Adrian.
[The name came stern and rigid. He held that golden look with his own eyes, paler silver in the light cast from the window. He wanted an answer before he could decide how to progress.]
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He heard the question, but it took some time for him to decide to answer it. Talking seemed trivial next to the delights of the flesh. With another long, hot lap of his tongue he exhaled. His breath warm and the sigh audible - he looked like he’d just dined on a delicious three-course meal. When he did finally speak his voice seemed lower, raspy even. ]
It sustains me, like food, but this does… more.
[ It wasn’t a fair description but in his current state it was the best he could muster. As he went on, considering Dorian’s question, his cool, predatory demeanor faltered ever-so-slightly as he added. ]
And… I cannot compare it. You are the first.
[ Hearing the name his mother gave him plucked at a taut heartstring. He wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be cruel or an act of kindness to try and pull him out of his trance.
The real issue now was that, after tasting him again, a great part of him didn’t want to snap out of this state. But the waver in that resolve was there in the slant of his brow and the softening of his eye, a momentary blip before he tightened the grip on the bitten arm’s wrist. Certainly not enough to cause any damage, but a hint of a constricted strength. ]
Don’t chastise me with that name.
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[Was it true? What did that mean? He couldn't help the color of shock in his voice, even as his mind rang in alarm after that tongue, licking across the red little holes where bladed canines had punctured. It wasn't bleeding so badly as before, but still it burned under the attention. Dorian felt dizzy and unfocused. Not to the extreme of teeth in his flesh when Alucard had initially bitten down, yet his heart pounded at that same rabbit-pace, a loud rush in his ears.
Breathless in frustration at being held immobile and lapped at like a dog, Dorian's tone took on an edge.]
Which is it then that I should call out? Adrian or Alucard?
[He was reminded of what he had said about the vampire's tastes. He wasn't here to bare his throat and give permission to be drained of blood. It was dangerous. He could lose consciousness, go into shock, a gradual and ugly death.
Speaking was a distraction.]
You seem to view yourself as a beast, uncontrollable and ravenous. Or perhaps that's just how you wish to be treated. Hm? Should I mock you, vampire? Should I beg you to fuck me instead and spare my life, as you suggested?
[Dorian leaned away from the wall, as far as he could with his unmarked arm pinned back, enough to bring their faces in closer. The coppery scent of his own blood was thick even in his own nostrils.]
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The root of his disapproval of Dorian using that name was that it was a little too effective. He preferred the name his mother had given him, which was why being scolded with it hurt so badly. He knew this, but didn’t know how to explain it. In truth he had suspicions that Dorian could work out why it wounded him.
As he listened to Dorian chastising him the grip on both of his wrists tightened. Whilst he knew his own strength and how to use it his hold was probably beginning to border on being painful. Frustration grew in him but (to add to it) he wasn’t entirely sure why. Did this pent up ball of energy stem from his blood lust or from the cruelly astute observations Dorian was making. How infuriating it was to be psychoanalysed correctly after a few short hours of knowing him. How could Dorian have known that his monstrous facade was just that; a mask worn to protect himself.
With these feelings of frustration his rationality began to bow and from the base of his throat there was a just-audible growl, like the rumbling noise one would expect from a cornered wolf separated from its pack.
That closeness, the smell of him, his courage and intelligence. No, Alucard could no longer hold back, the cocktail of drugs in his system shaken with the adrenaline and endorphins were too much to bear. ]
You… push your luck!
[ He finally responded, his words a violent hiss.
Both hands released Dorian’s wrists to instead find the elegant angle of his jaw. But this was no forceful hold, he didn’t drag him in abrasively, if anything he was cradling his face. An uncharacteristically gentle gesture, considering how he’d acted today.
Which was ruined by the following kiss. Alucard’s lips crashed into Dorian’s, his mouth ripe with the lingering taste of his blood, lips hot and hungry. Another first, inexperience hidden under unbridled passion and lust. As much as he wanted to taste his blood, he also wanted to taste him without injury. His eyes closed as that feeling light-headed attraction filled his thoughts. Dorian was lovely, and here he was ruining him.
He had to silence him, to stop those cutting, accurate words from reaching him. ]
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The kiss was unexpected.
Bracketed by gentle hands, it was a kiss of feral hunger more than elegance or experience, carrying with it a coppery undertone he could taste on his own lips. The momentum of Alucard reaching for him and the loss of that hold on both wrists sent Dorian swaying backward, so that his back landed against the wall without unlatching the kiss.
Better than another bite, or so his mind reasoned through a dizzy spell of extreme, acute, confusing arousal.
Dorian lifted first one hand and wove it into golden hair, fingers dragging across his scalp, sweeping the heavy curtain of it over one of Alucard's shoulders and then cradling the back of his head. The other extended to touch the top of Alucard's chest. He laid his palm on the rise of a pectoral and felt the defined line of muscle beneath fabric of clothing. It didn't push away. Rather, it held, balling into a fist.
With effort he turned the kiss more orderly, pressing against that mouth to manage a firm seal, tip of his tongue coaxing lips to spread open to surrender that hot interior. More dangerous was the sharp threat of teeth just behind; Dorian's venturing licks were careful, then, so as not to accidentally nick himself.]
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So when the warm, softness of the kiss continued with the added sensations of Dorian's touch he may have felt Alucard shudder. And with the shudder a moan that stayed trapped in their sealed mouths. Much to his own (and possibly Dorian's) surprise he let him lead the kiss for a time. Mimicking him to some degree so that his tongue met his, thinking how cool Dorian's mouth was in contrast to his own.
His fingers delicately ran down his cheeks for a moment, a horribly affectionate gesture, tender and sweet. A moment of tenderness before his hands began to shift. Oval, shapely nails moved down the elegant line of Dorian's neck, feather light in touch before slinking to the front of his chest and then back around. Nails turned to fingertips to palms until he gripped Dorian's waist. Moving lower still.
He crouched slightly, palms just below Dorian's buttocks, where he gripped the top of the back of his thighs and, effortlessly, hoisted him up. One leg either side of his hips, his weight nothing to Alucard. One hand under each leg and his back still propped against the wall.
Alucard cruelly broke the kiss and began to lay a dangerous trail of kisses down perfect angle of Dorian's jaw towards his neck. He spoke a little in doing this, breathless and urgent. ]
Now that I've tasted you... I must have all of you.
Give yourself to me, Dorian.
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But it was clear this situation tilted in another direction, one darker and more familiar. The pull of heat in his belly was immediate as Alucard's hands circled down and lifted him up without obvious effort. The suggestion of strength took his breath. It wasn't often a single movement made him throb between his legs like that one did. Strong thighs closed around those narrow hips, ankles crossing behind.
The hand returned to gold hair, combing back strands to watch as Alucard's lips descended down his jaw and ventured closer to his throat. His own mouth flattened into a smirk.
This was what the city expected of them, did it not? To fuck, often and anywhere, assuming that was what Alucard meant by all of him. He wondered if the vampire knew what he was asking - or if it was a different sense of ownership, such as one over his blood.
It didn't take him long to decide what to say.]
Ground rules, darling. [Dorian's voice was a low, silken murmur, the sort of tone he used when whispering dark fantasies into the ears of beautiful men just like this.] I'd rather you not bite me so deeply again that it would scar. Anywhere it can heal, anything shallow, would be best. And nowhere that might be too obvious a wound that others will see.
[He didn't want the questions or concern, nor did he want to go around covered in bandages tomorrow.]
Also, if you take too much, I might pass out. I'd prefer to avoid that. [Another stroke through hair, the strands sliding across his knuckles.] Have you ever been with a man before?
[It seemed pertinent to ask.]
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