TDM #10

[duplicitymods]

« « « TEST DRIVE MEME » » »

« « « LIFE WILL GO ON

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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 weather is a brisk negative seven during the warmest parts of the day.

» » » BLINDLY WE'LL FOLLOW

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It's time for the monthly Duplicity train tour. 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.

« « « ASK ME ABOUT X

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Along with the usual Dom and Sub seminars and demonstrations, the powers that be have decided to try something a little more friendly. After attending the mandatory classes, all characters are invited to a (mandatory) social mixer! There are beverages and light snacks, and mingling is highly encouraged. Also, all participants have had their clothes removed and replaced with long shirts ( they are allowed to keep their undergarments, but nothing else is allowed ). Said shirts have the phrase “Ask me about _____!” plastered loudly and proudly on the front. It could be a character’s deepest, darkest secret, their most negative trait, or something embarrassing they had happen to them. Each participant is given a clipboard, pen and a piece of paper and are tasked with “asking” three others about what’s written on their chests. Once they’ve completed the task and handed in the assignment they’ll receive their clothes back. Of course, the long shirts can be removed, but that means you’ll be stuck in the nude or in your undergarments until you cooperate.

« « « ON A FLIP CHART

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Not into your long shirts? Want to complain or refuse to participate? There’s another option! Unruly Dominants and Submissives will find themselves locked in a private room with a bed, stuffed together into a get-along-shirt. There’s no escaping the garment either, until certain conditions have been met. Written on a flip chart in the corner of the room are the tasks that need to be accomplished to “get along.” Are the two supposed to share a kiss? Sing a romantic duet together? Say the alphabet backwards in sync? The whole point of the exercise is to find that synergy a Dom and Sub pair are supposed to have. Maybe this isn’t the best way to find it, though… When the conditions are met the shirt is removable or rippable. Otherwise no matter how hard the characters struggle they’ll find themselves unable to get the pesky thing off.

« « « THE LONG WAY AROUND

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Many local businesses have adapted to the timing of newcomers, and take advantage of the incoming crowds to do a little marketing. Stationed throughout Duplicity in LIEr-adjacent places such as the train station, the Up Apartments, the Down Motel, and the orientation center are representatives for local businesses and companies handing out free samples and hoping to attract business later. This month, there’s a particular presence by Harbroken Industries, a cosmetic and beauty company. They’re pushing free samples of their new pheromone perfume sprays, delicately scented and guaranteed to work. Sample bottles are freely available, but some overeager volunteers are taking the department store approach and spritzing unwitting passersby. The citrus scent is energizing and bright, inducing a talkative state where users cannot get enough conversation, and lose any internal filter for their words. The strawberry-vanilla scent is sweet and comforting, like a warm hug, which users will get a lot of with their new obsession with physical affection. Cedar-sandalwood makes those who use it tough as nails, angry and ready to pick a fight over the smallest slights. The cinnamon-pear scent makes its users feel adventurous and curious, and maybe a little TOO bold about trying new things. And predictably, the patchouli spray inspires “free love,” with an aphrodisiac effect that gets worse over time, unless taken care of quickly. The scents will wane and the effects will fade after six hours, or after the urges they cause are fulfilled. These volunteers are so eager to make a sale that it’s entirely possible to be hit with more than one spray at a time, so maybe take the long way around these areas if you’re looking to avoid them.

« « « MOD & OOC NOTES

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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: Count the letters in your character's full name ( first, last, middle or whatever combo that they have ). If it totals twelve letters and below they are a Dominant. If it's thirteen and higher they are Submissive. Please remember to mark any necessary content, and have fun!!

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» » » MAIN NAVIGATION « « «

Comments

QUESTIONS

[duplicitymods]

[subjulio]

Can the 'ask me about x' shirts be turned inside out?

Jyn Erso | Star Wars | Dominant

[superweaponized]

( ask about my x )

[Jyn doesn't like this. Not just because what's emblazoned across her chest, but because it physically is also revealing. The long white shirt comes up high on her mid-thigh, and she's constantly pulling down on it, trying to make sure she doesn't bend over too much. It makes her less personable than she already is, confused and trying to get out of this.

But the fact fact her shirt says "Ask me about the Resistance" makes her even more uncomfortable. If Cassian were here, he wouldn't like it. She shouldn't be thinking of him here and now, the mix of feelings right now aren't something she's able to process right now. She just needs to try and get through this. Maybe if she just tries and approaches the nearest person to her as diplomatically as possible, she can just get this over with.]

So what does yours mean? [She asks, not even looking at their shirt, but getting to write down whatever she needs to.]

( on a flip chart; m/f only )

[Being pulled into this ridiculous outfit just with her underthings on is even more uncomfortable than the other shirt. She tries to pull off against the other person, not trying to be rude, but not really wanting to make introductions or small talk right now. Not when she's already pressed tightly against them.]

What do they even want?! [She exclaims already getting exhausted from trying to fight off the constrictive shirt that seems to just push her closer to the other person. Finally she stops and looks up at the other person.

Maybe this is the reason why they put her in this. She's not going to be the best Dominant, and they're already trying to get her in line. Too bad Jyn Erso never took instruction all that well.]

( the long way around )

Come on, darling, [One of the booth attendants tries to get her to come over. Jyn insists she's fine, but she doesn't have much of a choice. Maybe it's because she looks so new, so out of place even in this market. The attendant sprays the perfume bottle, and the strawberry vanilla scent fills the air. She coughs and just about punches the guy when she realizes that the contact of her fist to his chest feels... different.

She should leave right now. Wide eyes look around, her pupils growing wide from the effects of the perfume before she's dashing out. On her way out she full on collides with someone near the door.

Please don't be guards. Please don't be guards....]


ooc: m/f prefs for anything shippy/ smutty. she's taken pre-death so she doesn't know about the fate of scariff/ the death star plans.

ask me about...

[decoyqueen]

[ Sabé wasn't keen on the long t-shirt look- it was too revealing for too public of a place. But she's already learned the hard way that they have ways of making you cooperate, and the last thing she wants is to experience something like that again.

'Ask me about Padmé'

She doesn't want to talk about her with a stranger, but what choice does she really have? "So what does yours mean?"

Sabé glances at her as the question is asked, taking note of the word on her shirt. Is it too much to hope that 'the resistance' means the same thing she'd been talking with Poe about just recently? ]

Padmé was my best friend and had just died before I was brought here.

[ They never said just how much information had to be offered up. ]

Goro Akechi | Persona 5 | Dominant | ota

[raygunner]

ask me about....
Really, is this necessary...?

[ Akechi, to his displeasure, has a shirt that says Ask me about my baggage! While it's not terribly revealing, it's not something he's thrilled about. For one, he most certainly will not talk about his baggage. What baggage? The shirt, clearly, ended up on the wrong person. Nevermind that all he's wearing, aside from undergarments, is a shirt...

Still. He's nothing if not sociable. Akechi approaches someone, a smile plastered on his face. ]

Should I really ask you, or is that a sensitive topic?

[ Honestly, he doesn't care. He just wants his damn clothes back. ]

on a flip chart;
[ Unfortunately, Akechi had outright refused to talk about his baggage. So into a locked room he'd been ushered. He's even less thrilled about this, though he makes a valiant effort at concealing just how pissed off he actually is. Which, really, is remarkably difficult when you've been shoved into an indestructible shirt with another person. ]

... To the point, aren't they.

[ Has anyone ever said anything in such a dry voice... ]

the long way around;
[ At some point, Akechi gets a face full of... cinnamon pear. Akechi coughs and waves a hand in his face, but he suddenly feels... a lot bolder? More adventurous, at the very least. He isn't sure how he feels about that, but-- ]

It seems a shame to waste so much product. [ He glances to whoever's nearby. ] Wouldn't you say?

[ Or he gets hit with something else. Choose your scentventure! ]

honey, you're home!

[intrusivethot]

the long way around

Not a believer in spending money to make it?

[ Ren's clever tactic of stopping just short of the employee spraying free samples has saved him from taking a mouthful mid-yawn, but he can't say the same for Akechi. Dominant or not they're giving handouts to anyone who passes by and knowing this place Akechi's bound feel compelled to strip and dance naked in the streets or. Something.

Not that he's going to raise the subject if it isn't going to happen. He'll just savor holding something over Akechi's head. Ren play-huffs and lifts his chin. ]

Guess I won't give you free cups anymore.

Declan Lynch | Call Down the Hawk | Submissive | OTA

[dauntless_son]

Ask me about my...

Brothers. The word on Declan's shirt is brothers. He stares down at his clipboard and sighs. Let's see how quickly he can get through this while talking as little about himself as possible.


On a flip chart

Cooperative as he usually is, Declan does not want to answer questions about his brothers. Or any part of his family. He blithely lied through most of his conversations and he doesn't know if it's the lying or something else that's gotten him put into a get along shirt with some other unfortunate soul.

"This is ridiculous," he mutters. He's suffered humiliation before, but for the most part Declan has managed to avoid it. He can see the chart from where they're standing but he can't read it from here. "Think we can shuffle over there without killing each other?"


The long way around

He hates patchouli. Declan doesn't understand how anyone can like the scent. It's cloying, overpowering, and it reminds him of an ex that wasn't worth the effort. Declan breaks his usually pleasant expression to scowl at the person that just sprayed a bunch of the stuff into his path.

In search of fresh air, Declan makes it to the end of that row of stalls before it hits him. Since getting here, sex has been the absolute last thing on his mind, but he can't ignore the sudden, urgent flood of arousal hitting him. The rush of blood makes him dizzy.

"Jesus," he breathes, putting a hand out to catch himself on a wall. He needs to get back to the motel. He needs to get away from... everyone. Utterly out of character, he grabs the next person that passes him.

"Hey. Which way back to the Down?"


Wildcard

[Find Declan in the Up or Down! M/m or m/f or smut. Preferences here.]

ask me about...

[perfectible]

"Should I actually ask you about your brothers or just pretend that I did?" She gets it, this city makes you jump through hoops that you really don't feel like jumping through. Betty offers him a smile as she stands before him, her own message says: ASK ME ABOUT MY SCARS.

Inara Serra {} Firefly {} Dominant

[noneofyours]

[BLINDLY WE'LL FOLLOW]

The rocking of the train was soothing, rhythmic clacking of the wheels passing over joins in the rail. The sound droned together and added to the relaxing effect, at least for her. Others might not find the transport as appealing but it was a nice reprieve from spending her days in the cramped confines of her shuttle. She had sunlight, air and scenery that wasn't empty blackness.

And this was less likely to fail and cause everyone to die by exposure or asphyxiation, so that was also a plus. The seat beside her had been vacant for the last three stops and she was beginning to wonder if it was just a slow day, but as the locomotive slowed at the next station it seemed she might not be along much longer after all.


[THE LONG WAY AROUND]

After exiting the train Inara stopped short almost running into a brightly smiling pair of young ladies in matching button up shirts. "Hello! Have you heard about the newest scents?" One girl said. "These have just been released and we expect them to be our most popular ever!" The other seemed to pick up where she left off. She raised a hand demurring the offer. "Thank you, I tend to mix my own scents or get them from back home." She tried to decline as graciously as possible but one of the girls frowned and the other's smile dropped slightly.

The Companion moved to pass them when they came up on either side of her, almost in unison they said "We insist you try a free sample!" She blinked when she saw the spray coming at her face. She tasted lemon and orange on her tongue except, oddly crisp and effervescent. Her hand caught the other which she could only faintly smell as some sort of sweet berry and mellow vanilla. "Please, no!" Inara pushed past the girls and out into the free air beyond.

"I thought Mal was a terrible sales person." Her eyes went wide when she said it. She hadn't spoken of the Serenity crew since she left them. "I needed to leave, it was time to go." Another verbal outburst and she was suddenly wondering just what that spray had been. She wrapped her arms around herself and..well.. she felt better actually. Quite a bit. "It would be better still if I hugged someone else."

It seemed her mind and mouth were set to automatic pilot.


[WILDCARD]
[ Inara can be found at any bath house or massage spa, feelfree to find her there if you like. ]

HI FRIEND

[drinkingseriously]

Athos had managed to get through the spraying with a great deal more ... leeway than most.

"Hi would you like to try one of our - "

"If you spray that in my face, I am afraid I will be forced to break your arm." Was his crisp reply, as he scanned the area for any other threats to his person in the form of ridiculous questions or someone trying to spray him with scents. He stepped through, remembering the map from his ... 'orientation' into this living representation of Hell, and was on his way to the trains and perhaps the freedom of some less-than-reputable drinking establishment when the woman standing next to him suddenly said.

"It would be better still if I hugged someone else."

Athos looked left, and then right, then back to the woman. Who ... appeared to be standing completely by herself. One eyebrow raised, and he spoke quietly but with some light hint of bone-dry humor. "I wouldn't recommend saying that so loudly. This is the sort of place where an embrace could turn into a orgy. Or at least that is what 'Orientation' has taught me."

Kaz Brekker | Six of Crows | Dominant | OTA

[roughworkdone]

i. Ask me about X

Kaz is going to murder someone. That is the exact look on his face as he foisted into a room wearing a long shirt with Ask me about Pekka Rollins. He doesn't think this is particularly amusing. The clipboard feels foreign in his bare hands - elegant, pale, made for lock picking and card shuffling - and he tries to ignore how exposed he feels. As long as no one touches him again, he should be fine.

His dark eyes cut to the nearest person.

"Do you want to start or should I?"

ii. On a flip chart

[ OOC: I'm open to doing this one but please be aware that Kaz has a phobia of touching and being touched that is related to PTSD. If you're interested in this prompt, please get in touch with me so we can discuss it! ]

iii. The long way around

Kaz feels like himself again now that he's back in his own clothes and his crow-head cane has been returned. Thin, black leather gloves cover his hands and his suit is sharply tailored and staid.

The cold is sharper than what he's used to in Ketterdam, nearly as bad as the glaciers in Fjerda. It makes his leg ache, but he's content to be free again. He can ignore it. He's curious about the vendors hawking their businesses to new arrivals and old alike. He manages to keep his distance for the most part, but some over-eager vendor has practically saturated the air around another person. The heavy scent of patchouli makes Kaz sneeze.

It seems like funerary incense, the kind they burn during wakes for merchers and public officials. Kaz cuts a glare at the woman with the perfume bottle and moves on. He has to stop a few paces ahead and he grips the head of his cane tightly as heat sinks through him. What the fuck?

"What. Was. That?" he rasps out.

iv. wildcard

[ OOC: If you'd like to do anything at the orientation or on the train, or if you want to run into Kaz somewhere else, hit me! ]

[soulette]

Mariette resists the urge to roll her eyes. She knows it's necessary to talk and get through this in order to get out of the shirt but the whole thing feels so forced and unnatural. She reads his and has no idea what it means. Hers says Ask me about being hunted. She tries to weigh out which would be the shorter story but she has no way of knowing. With a sigh, her expression is slightly apologetic.

"Okay, well." A shrug. "Does it really matter? What's Pekka Rollins?"

wanda maximoff | mcu | submissive

[magija]

.•   ask me about x

---

[ her fingers clutch at the ends of her shirt, long enough to cover any exposure of the dark lace underneath but still far too short to conceal enough of her thighs. there's no comfort in this place, and if there were any, it'd only be in knowing she's hardly alone in that feeling, a wave of that anxiety practically vibrating through the air amongst the others adorned in the same simple garment as herself.

the major difference is in what they each say, and from what she can see when she peers down and tries to stretch out the fabric in front of her, the words on her own shirt are completely absurd: ask me about mindfucking!

the best she can do is cross her arms to try and conceal the words, but it seems there's persistence in furthering the discussion and eventually she's made to confront someone else in a similar garb, as she tries to steady her clipboard firm against her chest. ] Do you know if there's any other way out of this?

.•   on a flip chart

---

[ she'd tried to get out of, far too frustrated with the route of conversation to even consider wanting to dive into the privacy of those secrets. spending enough time diving into people's heads, she'd already made the decision that she'd no longer pursue it, with or without her mind manipulation abilities to aid that. of course, all of that means is that she's faced with an alternative that she's not sure is much better than the situation she'd found herself in before.

while the shirt is bigger this time, it's only because it's meant to allow another person to fill in that extra space. only it isn't much extra at all, her arm bumping against theirs with a fidgeting that merely causes their bicep to brush over her lace-covered breast. ]

Excuse me, would you — ? [ there's annoyance in her tone, for good reason, of course, but she knows she shouldn't exactly be pinning it on someone who's simply being faced with the same trial as herself, and she shuts her eyes briefly to take a breath. ] Okay. Okay. What is it we're supposed to do?

[ she turns to catch sight of the board, a certain task is written on the board, meant to be completed ... ]

( ooc: task options of your choosing: (a) sharing a kiss, (b) singing a duet together, (c) tap dancing for an entire minute in sync, (d) mutual masturbation to completion (18+ only). no option is a guarantee that she'll go through with it depending on the interactions. )

.•   the long way around

---

[ at the very least, she gets to be outside, exploring the grounds of the city freely rather than remaining confined in those rooms for a minute longer. it's more than she can see for how she so often finds herself, always locked in, always imprisoned, always presenting the constant threat that she might simply cast up a spell and break someone apart or cast them away out of existence.

perhaps, she's meant to be trapped here too, but at the very least she's stretching her legs until she finds herself at the market, called there by the soaring aroma that blossoms in the air in a variety of forms, sweet and addictive, so much so that she finds no room to consider herself when she approaches to attempt their samples.

(a) the strawberry-vanilla coaxes a long sigh from her lips, a smile twisting up as if she'd been hit with something so overly pleasant, urging her to simply reach out and embrace whoever happens to be nearest. and she does just that, saying nothing to the unsuspecting victim that earns the wrap of her arms around their shoulders, something overly familiar especially when she turns her face to nuzzle her nose soft against their cheek.

(b, 18+) the patchouli spray causes her to crinkle her nose briefly, something curious in its scent as she gives a sniff trying to rid her nostrils of it peculiarity. it's far too strong, she thinks, too musky for her liking, and she finds herself immensely distracted with that very thought, so much so that she doesn't even notice herself walking, steps moving with conviction as she approaches someone near by. before she catches herself, her fingers curve strong along their jaw, angling their mouth to meet her for a hardened kiss. of course, if they don't actually stop her, she might even find the time to brush her tongue past their lips, deepening the contact with a soft moan. ]

.•   wild card

---

( feel free to adjust anything as needed in the above options to fit the scenario a bit more with your character. or go ahead and discuss with me the potential of entirely different options all together. all options are ota, and is open to m/f or f/f, 18+ for the more potential nsfw options. canon point is currently undecided, but leaning towards post age of ultron or post civil war. )

ask me about x

[thereal_ivyb]

[ Drizella has long since given up on hiding the words on her shirt. ('Ask me about my mother's plan to kill me!' as though that was an interesting conversation starter. ) Instead, she's taken to imbibing the free drinks and just watching everyone. Sort of. In contrast to the other submissive woman's feeble attempts to cover the words or even stretch the shirt down, Drizella is leaning very leisurely against the wall (on her phone, of course) with the hem of the shirt tied in a knot above her hips. What does she really care if the rest of the room sees the green cheeky underwear she opted for that day? ]

Not that I've seen.

[ She glances up at the other woman and smiles a little, an attempt to at least look sympathetic and understanding. ]

The more eager people have been filling up their clipboards and leaving. Clothed. And the more resistant have been escorted elsewhere, from what I've noticed.

Mariette / Blade Runner 2049 / Dominant

[soulette]

01-Blindly We’ll Follow

[Mariette’s eyes are wide open, staring outside the window of the train as she processes all the sights that the train is zipping through. So much information has been thrown at her within the last few hours and she soaks it all in, mind whirring up a thousand possibilities, repercussions, and more. This world is completely different yet so similar to hers. Unlike hers, it’s lush and abundant in material, but like hers, it’s divided down the middle — two classes. Dominant and submissive, human and replicant. And somehow, here, her role has been reversed.

The thought clouds her mind along with the headache and nausea that’s been there since she arrived. She stares at the buildings outside, the greenery, then turns her gaze inside to take in all the people who sit in the train. She watches as a submissive kneels before their dominant and feels an unpleasant twist inside her.

As she’s watching, someone steps in front of her and for a split second. She tilts her head and looks past them before noticing that they haven’t moved. Grey eyes lift and she blinks before raising a brow. She looks at the empty seat beside her then back up. The quick motion bringing another wave of nausea. She swallows and manages a small smile.]

Is this your seat?


02-Ask Me About X

[The event is uncomfortable and revealing, making her feel incredibly vulnerable. Not just in their clothing which she doesn’t mind — she’s used to wearing revealing clothing — but the statements, varying from very personal to downright sensitive are… both interesting and frightening. The one on her shirt says Ask me about being hunted.

Sure, she’s good at small talk, given a part of her programming is strictly to appear friendly and personable. Most of the time, she even enjoys conversations that are more real. Just… not like this. Not so forced.]


03-The Long Way Around

[It actually smells pretty good for a bit. The strawberry vanilla is both warm and comforting, making her smile a bit as she continues down the row, looking around the other products placed nearby. She turns and steps a little closer to the person beside her, making some room for another before she feels it.

It spreads from the spot on her wrist that was sprayed by perfume, up, making the presence beside her feel so inviting. She can feel the urge that’s both empty and warm at the same time. Things add up and she looks at her wrist.]

Shit. [Her hand reaches out almost without her allowing it to, and lands on the bicep of the stranger standing unwittingly beside her. They feel so warm. Her fingers spread out slowly, feeling, touching.] Sorry I... [She trails off, mesmerized by the rush of warmth and soothing pleasure from the touch.] Oh.


04-Wildcard

(( She'll be found hanging around still in awe of things. ))

02

[in_sects]

[ Rhys is less comfortable with the clothing choices they've been forced into. He's tried keeping his eyes fixed on the ground in order to try to avoid seeing anything he shouldn't. It also has the benefit of making his submissive mark a little less obvious.

His shirt doesn't look too bad, since it says ask me about my name, but Rhys is beginning to worry he might actually have to participate in this ridiculous exercise. His eyes dart up to her shirt - and then away again. He doesn't think it's a good idea to touch that one. ]

Are you new here?

[ Because he can't say nothing after looking at her.]

Wei Wuxian | The Untamed | Dominant | OTA

[darkpath]

a. « « « ASK ME ABOUT X

[ Wei Wuxian is a tall, thin man. The shirt hangs baggy over his frame and ends just low enough to be decent. While he isn't someone who normally follows rules, he's sociable, which makes this game a bit more fun than it would be for most strangers. The only drawback is that Wei Wuxian hates his shirt. He keeps crossing his arms and uncrossing them with a distinct pout on his face.

'Ask me about my tendency to flirt without meaning it' ]

What? Who made this? Anyway, that's definitely not true.

[ It's definitely true. ]

I just got here, and they're already spreading lies...

b. « « « THE LONG WAY AROUND

[ Never one to shy away from physical affection, Wei Wuxian still knows himself well enough to know that the sudden urge to hug any and everybody that crosses his path. He nearly exudes nervous energy, rocking on his heels as he tries to fight it, only to have the urge build almost beyond his control.

When he breaks, his body moves before he's able to have enough conscious thought to stop it. The next poor passerby that passes finds Wei Wuxian throwing his arms around them and hugged to their body. ]

Ah, sorry! It's a curse!

[ Even his laugh is awkward. ]

c. « « « MISC. SOUNDS OF THE FLUTE

[ As a dominant, he's rightfully allowed to be in the Up. As someone who likes freedom and not the stuffy attitude that comes with the Up, he prefers the Down. And flutes. And rooftops. Tonight, he combines all of them.

The building he chooses is much smaller than the surrounding buildings. Only a single story, it was easy for him to ascend and find a spot where he can see the things happening below him. It's night, with the moon bright enough to illuminate him without the need of surrounding lights.

And he plays, composing a calming tune while looking the picture of someone calm and serene himself. ]

d. « « « MISC. POST TO THE NETWORK

isthsilike oh i can maek the wors separate.

[ Perhaps Wei Wuxian should have tried his experiment privately instead of posting it, but here he is. So far, he's discovered the spacebar. ]

thats a lot easer to read [ He's trained well enough to spell fine, but the keyboard is odd. ] there are a lot of buttons on

[ He tries said buttons while typing and suddenly, it switches to video. ]

...does. It has a ... ah!

[ Wei Wuxian jerks back as he realizes he can see himself. However, when he sees the recording do the same, he laughs. ]

It's doing what I'm doing!

[ His face gets face too close to the camera. Remembering that other people can supposedly see him, he sits back onto the bed in his Up apartment and waves. ]

Hi.

b. the long way around

[inquiryguqin]

[It was a rough morning. After orientation, which Lan Wangji finds the lesson absolutely ridiculous, he took everything at face value and left the facility. He tightens up his robes to hide his hideous thin black line running down his throat, a tattoo that designated him of his place in this world's society.

Lan Wangji looks at the world indifferently, putting up his stoic front. Hand tucked behind his back, carrying his sword. He make a few people turn heads, as he seems like an ethereal being descended from a high place wearing snow white robes and perfect features of beauty as he walked through the faceless crowd.

Then out of nowhere, when he finds himself being locked in an embrace. He stiffens at first, hands balls into a fist, ready to strike. But then realizing who it was, when their eyes connect, he relaxed.]

"Wei Ying. You're here as well? Was it really a curse?"

[ooc: Also hello~ /waves. I was looking around and I see you. Can't resist. e.e]

Drizella Tremaine / Ivy Belfrey | OUaT | Submissive

[thereal_ivyb]

BLINDLY WE'LL FOLLOW

[ No mark on her neck will make her act any different. Drizella hates the tattoo given and the treatment it subjects her to, but that doesn't stop her from keeping her head held high as she boards the train.

So to speak.

She's actually very invested in the phone-like device they'd equipped her with, so even as she walks to a vacant spot, she's only half paying attention. She does look up from the device as someone sits next to her- only to offer them a very strained sort of smile and turn right back to it.

Yes, she's new in town. But that doesn't mean she doesn't have very important things to attend to on the network: like doing diligent research on who's here. ]

Let me know if I miss anything really interesting on this tour of hell?

[ It's not a request, even though she's phrased it as one... and even though the line down her throat means she's in no position to be making demands. ]


ASK ME ABOUT X

[ The least they could do is offer something vaguely fashionable if they were going to air out all the participant's dirty little secrets.

Ask me about my mother's plan to kill me

It's honestly just best if she ignores what the shirt says with an attempt to cover it up with the provided clip board. If it bothers her to have that out in the open, however, she doesn't let it show. Lips pressed together, she walks around the room slowly, apparently not bothered at all that the shirt just barely reaches the top of her thighs. She sips on one of the provided beverages, her eyebrow raised as she reads the shirts and contemplates what she actually cares about hearing. She stops and fixes her target with only a slight smirk as she gestures to their shirt. ]

Tell me more.


THE LONG WAY AROUND

[ No one's warned her. Why should they? It's not as though she's gone around and tried to make friends. She doesn't need that sort of crutch here- or so she tells herself at least. It might be nice to have a familiar face around- Henry's in particular.

But she doesn't let herself think about that too long.

Shopping isn't calming- not as a 'submissive' in their system. She's questioned more than she's helped, and she doesn't have the comforts of her credit cards from home. She hears the call of the salesperson before she realizes that she's walking directly towards them. A lengthy, flowery description of the strawberry vanilla scent that they absolutely adore. Drizella wrinkles her nose at the description, but before she's even able to decline a sample of it, they're already spritzing her with it. ]

Woah. Hey.

[ She stops and holds up her free hand, her brow furrowing as she tries to push away the sudden feeling that she needs to be touching someone. ]

Do. Not. Spray me without my consent. If I have an allergic reaction, I won't hesitate to sue you for every penny you have.

[ Yeah.

This would go over only marginally better if she weren't classified a Submissive. ]


WILDCARD

[ The sky's the limit. Have an idea you want to toss my way, go for it! Drizz isn't spending much time in the Down, but when she is, it's at the park to try and grow plants to make it at least a tenth as nice as North Park. In the Up, she doesn't give a hoot about societal norms or sub expectations.... so chances are she's getting in trouble.

Will match style if you prefer prose. :D

Shippy/Smutty ota~ ]

Long Way Round - Jo nah --Dominant--

[ultra_boy]

Spotting this, Jo sighs as he steps in behind the woman making the threat, his dominant bracelet showing clearly, and his anger showing as well.

The scents here are overpowering and he is really not in a good mood, so it is not hard to glower at them. It might even help when his eyes glow blue. The spritzers, sensing a turn of fortune, flee. Jo waits until they are gone before addressing the woman, his low voice quiet and something like a Chicago accent but not as he speaks right behind her.

"Are you alright?"

He wears a single suit made of a very nice fabric, tailored to him and quite flattering, all one piece, almost like the outfit he had worn back home. Over it, he wears a suit jacket, in jet black, of the same material.

Sasha James | The Magnus Archives | Dominant | OTA

[callioopsie]

1. Blindly We'll Follow

[Honestly, Sasha all but stumbles into a seat, tripping over one of her ankles as she distracts herself gawking at the submissive-labeled individuals on the floor. It's quite likely she jostles the person beside her, and flushing with embarrassment, raises a hand in apology.]

Sorry about that. Lost my head for a moment.

[She adjusts her glasses.]

Place is a trip, isn't it?

2. Ask Me About X

[Sasha isn't usually all that much of a wallflower, but, well, the places she goes don't tend to put her in nothing but a single long shirt. Hers is blazened with the phrase: Ask me about what I saw! Ambiguous and troubling, but at least she figures she can say whatever she wants, even if she knows what it's referring to. Surely it won't take too long for someone else to end up trying to avoid the main area of the party, and when they do she'll give them a sympathetic smile.]

Not your scene, either?

3. Wildcard

[Just playing Sasha here for fun and voicetesting purposes; if you can think of anything else you'd like to thread, let me know!]

2/3 mashup

[compellingstatement]

[He hates this. There are not words to describe how vehemently the Archivist hates this. Jon is using his clipboard to try to obscure his shirt: Ask me about Mr. Spider. He sees a woman looking around wearing a shirt that seems generic enough and stalks over to her.

She has a Statement, but he's trying to ignore that.]

Tell me about what you saw, then. I don't care what it's actually referring to. I assume something horrifying. I'm only interested in the mundane.

Athos | Three Musketeers | Submissive | OTA

[drinkingseriously]

1. Blindly We'll Follow

The man sitting in one of the seats has a newspaper drawn over his face, and is firmly ignoring all of the madness and talking around him. At least until the Dominant and the Submissive come into the car, and he lifts the paper to stare for a long moment, before his jaw sets. A glower sets on his face, and he lifts the paper off to stare at the Dominant un-erringly. He is not even distracted when someone sits next to him, but when he is spoken to, well.

He is a ruffian but he's still a damned noble ruffian.] My apologies, I was glowering at this barbaric display before me. What did you say?

2. Ask Me About X

[Athos has spent the majority of this event making people nervous with the way he is twirling his pen around like it is a knife or some other weapon. Perhaps that is why only a few brave souls come up to him to enquire about Ask Me About My Wife.

The answer, luckily for the person, is short if not abrupt.]

She is a lying, manipulative monster who preys on men like a crow on soft carrion. [A beat.] We are not currently on speaking terms.

3. WILDCARD

2

[mousquetaire]

[ There's been so many indignities today. It's been one after another, really. Being stripped to begin with, that long walk to the motel, that ridiculous tour train, and now this. Standing in a room full of strangers, wearing some sort of dress, emblazoned with the words "Ask me about: Adultery!" written in scattered red lettering, while other equally disgruntled presumed prisoners are forced to ask him about it.

Over and over again.

It's been a serious effort not to shoot anyone. This is not any of these people's fault, he reminds himself, for the hundredth time. They're captives as much as he is. They need his help, not his temper, but by God he's having a rough day.

And then there's that voice. And for the first time all day, the anger drains from him and he turns, eyes wide, to follow that familiar sound of fatigue. ]

Tell me you're not actually playing along with this.

Jo-Nah/Ultra-Boy « « « Legion of Super-heroes(DC Comics) » » »Either role « « «

[ultra_boy]

» » » BLINDLY WE'LL FOLLOW

Head still whirling from the orientation and thinking on what this meant, Jo was feeling particularly spaced out by this place as he took the seat assigned to him on the train. Looking around at the other Liers, it looked like he was not the only one stuck in their heads, and he chuckled as he thought about that. This world seemed to throw people for a loop, but if it did, was that the purpose? He suspected there was far more to this whole thing than he had been told, and he wondered if he could learn more by snooping around.

He would need to continue his act, then, of being less than brilliant, so people would open up around him. He could get a grunt job, and that would give hi time to think, and observe, without people thinking anything of it. He could use that as well; to drink and enter places where more 'smart' people would not go.

He grinned to himself as he slumped his shoulders a little. Yeah. He could do this.

Jo turned his head to peer out, and to look at the nearest Lier and other people, nodding to them with a simple smile.

To one of the other people, the ones sitting near the Liers, he spoke.

"Say, could you give me the blast about this place?" His voice was slow, and low, and his eyes were a little unfocused as he spoke.

***

« « « ASK ME ABOUT X

The seminars and demonstrations had started out cool, and ended up just plain disturbing, though he had made sure not to show it. Jo was still playing the dumb jock smoothly, even if the social mixer was... annoying. At least there was food, and that was where he headed right away.

Being forced into a long shirt wasn't so bad. It reminded him of some of the outfits he had worn back on Rimbor. Stylish, right? he strutted around in his bright green shirt, which said “Ask me about being swallowed by a Space Whale!” in very large letters. And it felt so comfy, he had deigned to go without underwear for this. After all, this was supposed to be a party, right?

The annoying part was being given a clipboard, pen and a piece of paper and homework! This felt less like a party and more like school, and Jo was grumpy about it. Sure, he wanted to know people, but... seriously? He looked around for three others so he could ask their big bold statements, and try to write something down.

Ugh.

***

« « « ON A FLIP CHART

Of course, with his luck, he ends up in the bad Dominants and Submissives room, and stuffed into a giant so-called-get-along-shirt with a stranger. He had tried to get loose, but the garment cluing, and wouldn't go away. He had been told that he and the other had to follow the instructions written on the... what as it? Oh yeah, the flip chart in order to get out.

"So, yeah, uh, I guess we should check this out, right? And get it over with?"

***

« « « THE LONG WAY AROUND

Wandering, on Jo's third day in town, he found himself smiling a little at the different booths and people trying to get his attention. Now, well, now he really was reminded of Rimbor. But, in character, he ambled over to one place after another, a slightly dull look on his face.

He spots that a number of them are special pretty shops run by some sort of big corpo named Harbroken Industries. And he notes that in his head to follow up. Who are these guys and what do they want? He didn't trust corpos anytime, anywhere.

He deftly dodges being spritzed, making it look like clumsiness, several times, all the while sleight-of-hand-pocketing some of the free vials to analyze later when he got some equipment. Just because he was slow, didn't mean he wanted to be seen as too gullible, either, so he walked the line.

Of course, he was dodging one spray when he nearly ran into someone, and caught them carefully to stabilize them, causing them both to get spritzed. But by what???

"Are you okay?"

[ OOC: Choose what you want them to be spritzed with! ]

***

[ OOC: Borrowing from the above, m/f prefs for anything shippy or smutty, thankee. ]

the long way around (cw: underage)

[unphase]

[Tinya was always curious about the outdoor markets. they didn't have such a thing on Bgztl, at least not in the areas she frequented. but she, too, is careful to avoid eating or drinking anything free, she's been here long enough to know that was a pathway to trouble. more trouble than it was worth.

she's wearing one of her usual little white dresses with her gold and garnet brooch pinned to the bodice and a black faux fur coat on over that. and, of course, her submissive's collar.

when she saw Jo also making his way through the market, she smiled and went over to him. he was apparently distracted, though, since he nearly ran into her, catching her gently to stabilize her. just in time to get spritzed with the cinnamon-pear conconction.

she blinks up at him, wide-eyed, as he holds her in place] I--I think so? What was that? [she attempts a joke] Whatever it was, it smells nice.

Caspian Pomeroy | OC | Dominant | OTA

[bonstempsrouler]

Blindly We'll Follow

It's freezing.

That means the climate control is on full blast and the warmth makes the train ride interesting as people get on and get off. Heat makes scents linger and it makes them more prominent, so by the time they've made it halfway through the tour, Caspian's nose is itching with all the sensory input. He's more interested in the people coming and going than he is in the sights. He looks at the stripes on submissive throats and absently runs his tongue over one of his canines. He wonders why that particular symbol and wonders if it's just easiest.

Seeing the Dominant join the ride with a submissive at their feet makes him snort a laugh. Well, that's strangely familiar, but he normally didn't see that kind of thing in public and it's the kind of thing that used to raise his hackles.

He's got a thing about leashes.

He's currently sprawled across two seats when someone approaches, looking like they want to (or are supposed to) be sitting next to him.

"This your seat?" he asks in a southern drawl. He moves without complaint, making room for the person joining him. "You new too?"


The Long Way Around m/m for smut

Caspian is usually a furnace but even he's feeling the biting cold right now. He's impressed that so many vendors are out, trying to get people to buy--perfume? Two scents catch him at different parts of his walk. The first is kind of sweet, not the kind of thing he'd usually follow but the strawberry-vanilla on the air isn't that bad. Hell, it makes him feel warmer, and his gold eyes drift over the crowd. He follows another scent he likes and all but wraps around someone completely at random.

"Hm... you smell good," he murmurs in a low, warm rumble. All he wants to do is nuzzle close. "Looked like you needed a hug." Alright, he's almost purring.


Somewhere else, sometime later, Cas gets hit with a faceful of patchouli. It takes a while for it to hit, but once it does, Caspian can't ignore it. His pupils go wide and as soon as someone makes anything like promising eye contacting, Cas catches their arm, their hand, their wrist, and hauls them toward the nearest alleyway.


Wildcard

[Find Cas anywhere in the Up or Down! He explores. For the preternatural out there who can sense or smell these things, Caspian is a weretiger.]

The Long Way Around

[nighttemplar]

[OOC: it's up to you if Alessandro's Supernatural Negation works on him or not.

The Italian is bundled up in far more than anyone has any business being. It's all opulently Victorian, with brocades and brilliant splashes of color under the heaviest of woolen great coats. And he's still freezing.

He's freezing until the very second arms go about his middle and a nose comes dangerously close to brushing skin. He scent is of spicy cologne, machine oil, hair product, and silver and oak. Under that, is something slightly off, a but removed from how normal people smell. He instinctually goes for one of his many hidden weapons but remembers last minute how much trouble Jon will be in, if he openly murders someone on the streets. He's reduced to a dandy's charms.

It does help that he feels so much warmer now. "You would be correct. I was in need of a quick warmup. But if you could loosen up a tad, my cravat is being rumpled."

rey ✨ submissive

[aurebesh]

& in the down

[ rey watches. dropped into a world as wholly unfamiliar as coruscant or canto bight might have been, rey watches as much as she can, observing in every moment where she might not make herself a bigger target than she may already be. she isn't stupid — wide doe eyes and innocence certainly hadn't helped anyone on jakku, and she doubts they'll help her here, so she doesn't bother.

is she innocent? perhaps, in the way that duplicity might categorize her. but perhaps not, in others. she's survived all this time, hasn't she? and survival is hardly an innocent girl's game.

in the down, rey is alone. she is a submissive, whatever that might mean, and uncontracted at that — and though she may not understand the social implications of the dominant-vs-submissive division or the reasons why someone's lips might curl into a sneer at her status, she understands freedom when it's given to her just fine. she doesn't have to have anyone, thank you very much. she's gone this long without, she'll manage for however long she's meant to be here too.

she hopes, truthfully, that it might not be long. she has things to do, to be quite blunt about it, and would prefer to do them than other people.

but in the meantime... find her wandering the down, watching with narrowed eyes as a group of young men begin to swarm closer. perhaps they think she's more scared than she lets on. perhaps they just want to steal the slim weapon she's toting. perhaps, more likely than anything else, they want the money she doesn't have. ]

Back off, [ murmured low, but a hand shifts, cupping around the hilt of her saber on her hip. ] I haven't any credits here, but you haven't any sense.

[ maybe that's the wrong thing to say. or maybe it's exactly right to catch someone else's attention. ]

& the long way around

[ she has mostly managed to avoid the over-eager men and women hawking unnaturally strong scents in bottles, taking back alleys or side-exits to avoid their gaze or simply rushing past with another body in front of her as coverage, but even rey's luck cannot hold.

it's en route out of the orientation center, her attention momentarily distracted by the sound of a familiar voice in the distance, that rey eventually takes in a face-full of the stuff. a scent like mustafarian berries, overwhelmingly sweet to the point it makes her feel halfway nauseous, followed by something sharper, almost spicy, like the popped grains in the niima outpost that travelers often picked up. ]

What is that?

[ strawberry-vanilla, apparently, not that putting a name to the offensive scent does her any good; the next volunteer is quick to pipe up in the face of rey's disgust, offering a small bottle of the cinnamon-pear for "a more private sample". private how, rey wants to ask, considering she's just found out the hard way about the whole two-to-a-room concept, but the question doesn't come.

it can't, not when some impatient orientation shepherd is trying to push the last group out in order to get the next in, not when she's being shoved none-too-kindly out onto the open street below, into the perhaps less-than-expectantly-waiting arms of a complete and total stranger.

...

surprisingly comforting arms, at that. ]

Oh, hello.

& wildcard

[ whatever strikes your fancy. please don't hesitate to pm if you want to chat something out. ]

the long way around

[curious_spirit]

[ It wasn't long ago that he arrived and made the mistake of eating a free sample which left him in a very... uncomfortable state of affairs. One that left him walking with a much more pronounced swagger than he usually moved with. He'd been fortunate to meet a beautiful woman well versed in the tricks and traps to orientation that was willing to help him out.

Shadow made sure not to eat or drink anything during the orientations since. Yet this one was letting out and he'd gotten a whiff of patchouli spray that quickly reminded him of his first orientation. Fuck. And before he knew it, there was someone of the female persuasion suddenly thrust right into him. "Oh, hello."

Fuuuuuck. ]

Hi. [ He greeted in return and made sure she was steady on her feet before releasing the stranger. ] Can I... help you?

[ Shadow could start by letting her go but his hands were still holding her sides as he asked the question. ]

Aziraphale | Good Omens | Dominant | OTA

[afraidtofall]

Ask me About X

Honestly, the most disturbing part of this part of the whole ordeal is that he hasn't been able to coax his clothing to him. Yes, on principle, he really shouldn't, but it's simply that nothing about any of this is regular, and he is quite certain that the powers that be, namely his side of said powers, do not want him here playing silly social games when there is about to be a war on, and he was summoned for said war and on his way thanks to a certain ill-timed visit by a confusing and rather horridly rude man.

Ask Me About My Obsession with Books! Obsession. Strong word that, and totally inaccurate. He loves books. He does not obsess. Angels do not obsess. Sighing to himself, he picks his way gingerly over the floor barefoot with clipboard and pen in hand. He'll play along for now since he can't leave. Maybe in the process he'll figure out what this is all about. If it's a joke, it's in very poor taste. Extremely poor.

The Long Way Around

Thank Heaven that ridiculous mixer is over. He has his proper clothing and some of his abilities returned to him. He is still unable to find his way out of this place, which is beyond disconcerting, not that he's allowing it to show. The timing of all of this is odd and the place as well, like Earth yet not in many ways.

As he's strolling down the avenue getting his bearings, he's suddenly spritzed directly in the face by a smiling woman holding an atomizer. Sputtering and waving his hands, he says in an extremely put upon tone, "Now, see here! There's no call for that." He wipes his eyes and blinks away the fog.

Well, it's not the most unpleasant of scents, he supposes. Still, after all that has happened to him so far, it's a bit much. She could have asked.

((OOC: You're welcome to pick among citrus, strawberry-vanilla, and cinnamon-pear for the scents for this prompt.))

Wildcard

((OOC: If you'd like to hit me with a different prompt, feel free. All I ask is that for now I'm going easy on Aziraphale with breaking him into the more salacious aspects of Duplicity, so please nothing that would alter his behavior. If you want your character to hit on him, that's fine!))

Ask Me About X

[compellingstatement]

The Archivist is incredibly displeased with the current situation. Why do they keep taking his clothes? He's a scarred, sleepless, scrawny man in a shirt reading Ask Me About Mr. Spider! Jon's using his clipboard to try to cover it and just keeping his head down. If he never looks at people, they won't look at him.

Except he's reading the shirts. He can't not. The one the man nearby him is wearing isn't awful, so he strides over. "Well? Tell me about the book obsession. Let's get this over with as quickly as humanly possible." No names, no introductions. Just that. He's staring at Aziraphale's clipboard now, continuing to hug his own to his chest.

Lithium Amaranth | OC | Submissive

[li_amaranth]

Arrival
[What the hell was going on!? Li didn't know how she got here or why she was surrounded by men in lab coats. Whatever this was, it reeked of nothing good. She starts fighting back, lashing out with a kick stronger than any human should have that somehow managed to break a table before she started brawling with the orderlies trying to hold her down.

It took quite the effort to drug her into submission so they could finish with her. For added measure, they fit her with a muzzle just to be safe.

By the time she's released, Li is groggy and slightly disoriented as they hand her the address to the motel and her device. The hospital gown didn't seem to bother her as she stood on the streets in the Down where they left her. It's probably a good thing she's too out of it to realize they marked her.

For several moments she just stares at the address before shaking her head and starting to stumble off in some random direction. She just had to find a place to sleep this off.. right?

....Fuck.]


Blindly We follow
[What the fuck.

First, she's expected to get on some large metal carriage on wheels. Now they're expecting her to sit next to her lunch and possibly kneel at their feet? Li stands stock still for several moments at the front of the bus. Everything about her body language screams tension just waiting to snap at a seconds notice.

The bus driver gives her a prod and she glares at him over her shoulder, flashing her submissive mark to practically the entire bus though the ill fitting clothes she seems to have procured somewhere. It's probably best not to ask...

After a moment of internal debate, she starts to move. Her head is down but, the most observant might realize that she's watching everyone around her. Every step she takes screams inhuman danger as she finds and empty seat and slowly sits down. She remains tense and sitting straight. Somehow, Li's managing not to lash out and murder everyone.

So far. Li made no promises if someone tries to force her to do something she doesn't want to....]

Ask me about X
[She'd been given two choices. Comply or get shoved in a shirt with a group of people.

Li chose to do their stupid questions game. It seemed like the better option at the time, though now she's beginning to rethink that decision once she was forced into the large T-shirt with the words 'Ask me about Kelpie Mating Habits' emblazoned across her chest.

It took her roughly fifteen minutes of being shown into the mixer before she took off her shirt and tore it apart. Li didn't see a problem being naked just so long as she didn't have to answer any questions.

Asking them to fill out the stupid papers though, that's fair game. Just so long as the person she's talking to doesn't get distracted by a nude woman standing 5'6 with natural dark brown hair and an eye catching athletic build with curves in all the right places....]

The Long Way Around.
[The moment Li realized what the stores were up to.. she noped the hell out as quickly as possible. Every possible route she could take to avoid the merchants and get to where she wanted to go was explored and quickly taken.

For the most part, she managed to avoid them.. that is until someone surprises her and sprays something that smells strongly of cedar and sandalwood in her face. Li takes several moments to try and wave it away as she lets out a warning growling, baring her teeth at the sales associate that managed to spray her.

The poor girl quickly backed off but, didn't apologize once she saw Li's submissive mark. If anything, this just served to piss Li off more as she storms away from the shop. It's not long before anger is practically radiating off of her.. Li may be on the lookout for a fight next... ]

dahlia hawthorne / ace attorney / submissive (rip in pieces, dup)

[hawthorne]

— ask me about x;

[ This is ridiculous. Not just the long shirt she's wearing which says ask me about losing at court (though that particular memory is enough to make Dahlia's jaw tighten, to make her teeth grind together and her breath come tight and controlled), but the whole concept of this city. The very idea that she would have this line down her throat, marking her as submissive, or that she's supposed to be involved in this sort of sexual lifestyle.

But as of right now, she can hardly make this city regret its decisions, so Dahlia swallows another lump of air and thinks of her sister's simpering face. Soft and innocent, allow her shoulders to relax, bring a hand to her mouth in uncertain thought, gaze down.

Iris would suit this designation perfectly. And surely everyone here will quickly believe the same of Dahlia.

Life is so much easier when people think you couldn't hurt a fly, after all. ]

Um... [ She approaches the nearest person — whoever they may be — and glances up shyly at them, hands tight against her clipboard. ] Excuse me... I, um, think this place has given me the wrong shirt. I've never been to court, let alone lost there.

[ That's a lie, but who would possibly suspect such a girl of having a reason to be in court? Let alone lose in one? ]

— the long way around;

[ So, as long as Dahlia is stuck here, she'll have to make the best of it. Perhaps this could be a good thing, a new world without any of the baggage of her previous life. No family, no Mia Fey ruining her plans, no precious Feenie (ugh, how does Iris do it?).

She's free. She's skipped the wait on death row and has this whole new life to enjoy.

Well. Perhaps enjoy is a strong term when you're stuck in the Down, but Dahlia is sure she can correct that eventually, with a little scheming. But for today, she needs to know more about the city she is forced to call home, so she begins in the Down, dressed prettily in her signature white dress (she can't keep wearing this day in and day out, though, and she knows it) as she walks past the Motel, paying minimal attention to the salespeople hawking their samples and concentrating instead on the other Submissives here, noting faces trying to listen for pieces of conversation which might actually be useful in this ridiculous place.

She follows a striking head of hair with her eyes as it weaves in and out of others, picking up speed as though running late (a poem comes to mind, one of rushing through the world and missing everything), and doesn't see the salesperson approaching her until a cloud of cinnamon-pear perfume envelopes her. ]

Watch it! [ The snarled words are a far cry from the sweet, delicate dress or the slow steps she's taken through the Down so far, red hair flaring out around her like a cloud of flame. How dare this woman ruin Dahlia's carefully crafted appearance with such a discordant scent?!

She should be made to regret that. Perhaps... Ah. There's someone who looks useful. Dahlia's anger dissolves off her face as quickly as it appeared, replaced by glistening, teary eyes as she runs over towards them, sniffling. ]

C-can you help me?

— wildcard!;

[ hit me with anything you want! ]

long way around

[jadedlynx]

[ The perfume samples are already infamous despite their sudden push. Ash has had a close call or two but so far, he's managed to avoid finding himself sprayed down. Nonetheless, he's swerving through the market when he hears someone call for help. When he turns, Dahlia is difficult to miss. ]

Depends.

[ Ash twists to fully face her. On one hand, this city is dangerous, and he can see why it would be more dangerous for smaller, pretty females. On the other hand, he does know that smaller, pretty females make bait for traps. ]

What are you asking?

Alice Quinn | The Magicians | Dominant

[dramaquinn]

[ ooc: tentative canon point is post s4, for the canon familiar ]

ask my about—

Swallowing god jizz.

[ Of fucking course. Fuck you, Ember. Fuck you, Fillory. And most of all, fuck you, Plover, because that entire thing was your fault.

The fact that she only just recently watched the man she loves die is what keeps her from being anything but ready to be done with this. Sure, this is embarrassing and annoying, but it'll pass. The dead don't come back. The dead stay dead.

Find her looking dead inside or just plain bored as she walks around with her clipboard. If you're alone, she'll come up to you and ask you about the thing printed on your shirt. ]


the long way around

[ She has got to lift her spirits. By now it's clear she's stuck here, and being actively depressed (as opposed to functionally depressed) isn't going to help her get through this and possibly find a way home.

Alice loves sweets, so of course she samples the strawberry vanilla scent. And god, she feels so much better suddenly? She needs a hug. She needs to give a hug.

At the very least, she's touching your shoulder and giving you a warm smile. ]


wildcard

[ Come to meee. PM me here or plot w me on punnyinpink o/ ]

long way around

[hawthorne]

[ Why in all the world is someone touching her? She didn't ask anyone to touch her?

But, for all the rage curdling in Dahlia's gut — not just because of this stranger, but the line down her throat and so much of how this city works — she manages to look over with all the confused innocence in the world. ]

... Do you need something?

Rise Kujikawa - Persona 4 - Dominant

[wontbearitall]

ask me about x

Well that orientation sure was... something. Honestly Rise hasn't really found her footing in this place yet, and the way they keep throwing everything at her like this isn't helping. What she would like to do is go back to her very swanky new apartment and take a bath and maybe get some tea as she shifts through this device they've given her to get a better grip on things. But no one's asking her what she'd like to do, so here she is, all of her clothes gone for the second time in as many days, replaced by something only slightly more sturdy than a hospital gown. And what does it say on it?

"Ask me about my real self? Wow, just... wow." The phrasing is so specific, she has to wonder, could the people here know--? Rise shakes her head, taking in a deep breath. "Well, I guess we just have to get this over with."

And with that, she'll give a little smile to whoever's approaching her. "Hey there! I'm Rise. What's your shirt...?"

the long way around

Rise tried to do a bit more research, tried to channel Naoto a little and read what she could, but that's never really been her way of getting around. The best way to get to know a place is just to be out in it, right? That's at least the idea she's running with as she takes to the market, a little unnerved that so many of the things on display are so blatantly sexual (she's not a prude, by any means, but wow they really aren't hiding anything are they?), and winds up by the perfume booth.

So many of the scents are amazing that she comes back a couple times, not fully aware of the effects of them. The first time around, she might stop someone in the market with a warm smile. "Hey, uh. Do you need a hug?" Everyone just kind of looks like they need a hug right now.

Later trips around... might not be quite as innocent. She's pleasantly flushed as she walks around, casting a flirty smile and wink at passerby. "What are you up to?" she asks any stopping stranger. She could just be curious, but...

ask me about x

[sinterofattention]

The phrasing on Rise's shirt is what grabs Dorian's attention. My real self? Well, he's certainly glad he doesn't have that one. Though admittedly, Dorian's shirt isn't much better. Ask me about my textbook narcissism! That's a conversation guaranteed to go south.

Still, he affixes a mostly fake smile on his face as he walks over to Rise. That phrasing is interesting and he wants to learn more. "Dorian," he answers, giving her a little wave. "And may I just say, thank God there's someone else here who's shirt is annoyingly vague. I've seen at least three people here with shirts as direct as 'ask me about my siblings' and yet we get stuck with some vague statements that might take a while to answer."

Said as he gestures from Rise's shirt to his shirt. Granted, 'ask me about my textbook narcissism' isn't vague exactly, but in Dorian's mind it's certainly a lot harder for someone to answer then talking about their daddy issues or something cliche like that.

Genevieve Lefoux - Parasol Protectorate - Submissive

[justifiedoctopus]

Blindly We'll Follow

The flimsy paper gown is not the ideal wear for any weather, and the cold of Duplicity in the winter is not helping. (Genevieve might argue that it's better than some other things she's be given to wear, but she will at least admit that dresses are warmer than this.)

Being freezing cold won't stop her from examining the train cars, though.

"I have never seen anything like it!" she says, moving around the train cars to see every angle of it, her hands clearly itching to take it apart and see how it works, "What powers it? It's not steam, and it doesn't appear to be ether-- and with no conductor either? Magnifique!"

She's probably missed her stop several times by now.

Ask Me about X

Ask me about my son!

Genevieve can't help but wince as she looks down at the shirt they've foisted upon her. There are a great many things she is not happy about in this place so far, and the top of the list is that her being here means Quesnel is alone with the hive. They have admittedly been doing a better job than expected with him, seeming to take their guardianship duties seriously, but she still does not like the idea of being kept here for an indefinite period.

She startles slightly when she finally realizes someone has approached her, giving them a swift smile. "Pardon, I seem to have wandered off," she says, the French lilt to her words obvious, "Now then, I suppose we should fill this out...?"

The Long Way Around (f/f only, 18+ please)

Genevieve has her own preferred scents to use, but perfume merchants are notoriously pushy and manage to spray some on her anyway. Perhaps it's revenge for her indifference to them that they picked the patchouli scent, but really it just gives her more of an excuse to approach any pretty woman who might be lingering on the street. "Enjoying the market?" she asks, smile showing her dimples.

Blindly We'll Follow

[nighttemplar]

She's not the only one fascinated by the train. Alessandro's taken it now, quite a few times. He's on it nearly every chance he gets, trying to puzzle out how it works, how that inner working can be harnessed and used.

He always sits near the back, knees splayed wide, a lazy dandy, lounging in his fine Victorian clothing, top hat on his knee.

Her attention to the train catches his and he can't help a smile. She's a handsome woman and that accent reminds him of an old aquatintance of his.

When he speaks, his accent is Italian under the oppressive trappings of an Oxford education. "It's quite something, isn't it? So far, I've been unable to charm my way into the engine room, but I believe it might be magnitism, or perhaps even electrics."

harley quinn | dc | dominant

[mahem]

blindly we follow

[ once they're all escorted (in pairs) onto the train, harley doesn't even glance around much before making a beeline for the seat she wants, seemingly heedless of the submissive she's been matched up with at first as she clambers onto the bench and then essentially does her best ladyspread across them, curving herself at one corner with her feet propped up on the seat in front of them. if her toes happen to bump into another rider, prompting a rude look, her only response will be a large, shit-eating grin, held long enough just to make them uncomfortable and think twice about confronting her.

beside, there's so much to see when the train finally starts moving, and she'll be distracted soon enough by the view through the windows, swiveling to look outward with fingers pressed against the glass as she voices impressed oohs and ahhs for dramatic effect. of course, there are really only so many towering buildings a girl can see before, well, she's just about seen 'em all, and inevitably she'll turn back to you, if you're a submissive unlucky enough to get stuck with her for the duration of the train ride OR a dominant who happens to be sitting with their own sub partner a short distance across from her. ]

[ if you're a sub: ] So what's your deal, huh? How come they gave ya one of those neat little tattoos? [ and she'll pair that with the motion of an index finger drawing an invisible line down her own throat, complete with the pitch-perfect imitation of a tattoo machine's buzz. ] Don't get me wrong, it's cool. Simple, yet effective.

[ if you're a dom: ] You checked out where they got us all shackin' up yet? Nice, right? Could use a little more color, but those beds. Mama's gonna have a good time on hers.

ask me about / on a flip chart

[ it probably doesn't come as a surprise to anyone who's known her for any varying length of time that harley isn't even remotely opposed to taking her clothes off.

in fact, when the orientation peeps came at her with that ugly-ass shirt to cover up with, she blew a raspberry of disgust right in their faces and told them to stick it somewhere the sun would never have a chance to shine. so she's walking around in a hot pink bralette and matching undies, almost all of her tattoos (even the ones she's had reason to cross out with harsh, jagged lines lately) on full display. to compromise, though, they've given her a sign to hold since she isn't wearing the shirt anymore, one that harley's adorned with her own little illustrations and hearts because the original text is just so boring: ask me about my psychology degree in big block letters.

you can ask her, or you can wait until her refusal to participate gets her stuffed into one of those get-along shirts anyway, because this girl doesn't do mandatory. but there are several options to work yourself free if you don't want to get stuck with her and she'll willingly play her way through any of them if she likes you well enough: a) pucker up for a kiss, b) let her give you a hickey or you can do your best to give her one, c) sing a duet together (even if it might be horribly off-key on her end) or d) get up to some below-the-belt fun while you're both wrapped up in each other's arms — although, given that she's the dom, it might be wise to take care of her first.

regardless of your selection, she'll shimmy up to you once you're wrapped together, looking over to you with a slow, inviting smile. ] Well, this is snuggly.

the long way around

[ oh, did we not think she was going to take advantage of some free samples? please. like she's gonna turn up her nose at getting to smell pretty.

but what scent she ultimately picks up is going to determine what state you encounter her in when she inevitably runs into you on the street, while leaving the store.

If it's the strawberry-vanilla: well, she's just plucked up as many samples as they'll let her take within reason because she really likes smelling like something sticky-sweet, like one of those hard candies you just put in your mouth and suck on, and if she literally bumps into someone on the sidewalk and inadvertently drops all her packets, she's not going to notice the spill once she looks up at the person she's touching, instantly throwing her arms around their neck and pressing a big smacking kiss to somewhere on their face (your choice if she makes contact with lips).

if it's the cedar-sandalwood: you're going to regret making her drop everything, because instantly her head shoots up towards you with a narrowed gaze and she immediately huffs loud enough to draw attention, not to mention stir a few strands of blonde hair away from her face, before taking both hands and shoving you, hard in the chest, hard enough to even make you stagger back if she catches you off-guard.

if it's the patchouli: well, it's a little spicier than her norm, but she practically stumbles into the street feeling all hot and itchy under the skin, to say nothing of what's going on in her pants, and inevitably she finds her way to an empty bench seat with a flush in her cheeks, not even trying to disguise her moans as her clothes rub up against everywhere she's sensitive — and by everywhere, we mean everywhere. ]

wildcard

[ want a different prompt or want your character to encounter harley somewhere else in duplicity? feel free to hit me up via PM if you're interested in something else or need a custom starter. all prompts are ota and open to m/f or f/f, 21+ for smut. harley's canon point is post-suicide squad and pre-birds of prey, but definitely after her emancipation from mister j. ]

on a flip chart — b

[magija]

[ wanda had been all too stubborn to be asked about the apparent "mindfucking" that was advertised on her shirt; the discomfort of her abilities is too fresh, too much of a reminder of her mistakes that all it's prompted to do is layer itself atop the existing frustration she'd been laced with since her arrival in this city.

of course, reasonably enough, it lands her in that extra room, and it's hard to say if she's relieved to be out of that prior shirt once she's forced to fit into another, this time with her luck of a sharing companion.

perhaps if she'd been paired with someone as resistant to this entire thing, they could simply keep their distance as well as they could manage under the circumstances and talk out the careful way they could get out of their predicament. unfortunately, the person at her side is ... ignorant to things like physical boundaries, to say the least. ]

You're plenty comfortable, aren't you? [ there's clear sarcasm in her tone, especially when she feels the nuzzle of their breasts together beneath the shirt, the press making her turn away with a deep breath. ] We should just try to get out of this as soon as we can.

"jitter" ( original ) submissive

[execucioun]

( ask me about x )

[ jitter is... not unaccustomed to being practically--or totally--nude in a room full of strangers. granted, it's usually because the queen and her court require less official services from him, but regardless of the reason, he isn't particularly bothered. except for the coolness of the room, of course, which has him standing a bit lethargically in place to conserve his warmth and energy.

across his small chest, his shirt proclaims: Ask me about my dead angels! he doesn't appear to be alarmed or disturbed by that, either, so it's evidently nothing he's trying to hide, anyway. between the strange phrasing on his shirt and the extensive tattoo-like black serpentine marks on all four exposed limbs, he stands out a bit in spite of his petite size.

.. if nothing else, it might be good to tell him to sit down. he's started swaying a bit, though whether that's out of exhaustion or his lamia heritage, who knows. ]

( the long way around )

[ jitter is a decidedly different figure now, dressed all in sober black, his long black overcoat embossed with a complicated seal between his shoulder-blades. he seems more awake and alert, too, even if he is particularly unhappy about the cold. he's always struggled with regulating his internal temperature, and it means colder regions and winters are.. awful.

he's making his way back down to his assigned quarters when someone steps out in his path and sprays something nearly in his face. jitter coughs, eyes watering and nose itching, but snake-quick, he's snatched the man by the wrist, gloved fingers squeezing with decidedly inhuman strength. the human yelps, the bottle falling from his fingers, and jitter catches it with his other hand, lifting it to shake. ]

What-- [ a sneeze. despite the demanding tone, his voice is surprisingly quiet, as if he doesn't use it much. ] What is this?

[ ooc; feel free to choose any of the scents. ]

( tongues of men or of angels )

[ for those that can sense the strange, the esoteric, or perhaps the occult, that sure was a weird, holy-shaped surge of energy in the down. for those curious enough (or maybe foolish enough) to investigate, it reveals itself to be a very strange, even terrifying scene.

there's jitter, sure enough, but there also is a massive figure, towering over the executioner even kneeling as it is, a hand around his throat. flame wreathes it in a halo of white, terrible fire, but despite the positioning, jitter seems calm and patient. the creature--the angel--doesn't take to the interruption well, though, swinging its eyeless head around and extending its other hand to reach. its halo spreads, and there's a crack in the air, like thunder in the distance, as wings--two maybe, or four at times--flicker into existence, half-perceived.

this is not your garden-variety angel. ]

( wildcard )

[ find him cautiously checking out haven, poking around the down, napping fully dressed and curled in a ball on his roommate's bed by accident.. the possibilities are endless. ]

tongues of men

[whatsina_name]

[Huh.

Well that sure is a thing that's happening.

Phillip has no idea what kind of scene he's walked in on. To be fair, he was following it, purposefully- for the amount of magic he holds himself he is kind of shit at sensing it, but this was really obvious and he's always curious about how powerful something has to be to catch his attention like this. And this leaves him with all kinds of other questions in the best way possible.

A normal, sane, mortal person might see the terrifying thing reaching to grab them and scream, or dodge, or run, or do something. But Phillip is arguably none of those things, and a side effect of him becoming more comfortable with the fact that he's a reincarnated death god is that he doesn't try so hard to think how a normal human would react. Besides, the other guy isn't panicking so it should be fine, right?

He just raises a hand to the angel, as if he's refusing a drink or something equally mundane.] Hey, uh, maybe don't?

Daniel Tabor Arlington V | Ninth House | Submissive

[subjulio]

blindly we'll follow

For maybe the first time in his life, Darlington feels completely out of place. He's been in situations before that were new, frightening, uncanny, but he's always felt like he could fall back on his intelligence, his charm, his breadth of knowledge. Lethe prepared him for much, but not for this, not for an entirely different world. Certainly not for a world that looks like this.

The mark down his throat puts him at a disadvantage, one he's not used to, and it makes him cautious. There's magic at work, certainly, and he doesn't know the rules yet, doesn't have a Virgil to explain it to him. He watches the city flick past in the window, watching passengers as they come and go, noting the way they interact with each other, the pairs of Dominants and Submissives. He doesn't know the rules of the magic, but he's learning the rules of the society.

Turning to the person next to him, he smiles, doing an excellent job of pretending he feels comfortable, even in his paper gown. "Not quite the welcome wagon I would wish for, but the views are spectacular."



ask me about x

Even the shabbiest of Yale's dorms is a world away from the flophouse Darlington is being housed in. He'd happily attend the orientation only to escape the motel. More than that, though, he wants answers. He's not stupid enough to think their captors will willingly provide them, but neither does he think he'll get any keeping to himself. The orientation itself is tedious, the afterparty...unexpected.

Darlington finds himself wearing a long t-shirt reading "Ask me about that night at Manuscript." He knows it doesn't mean anything here where no one knows about Manuscript or Lethe or Galaxy Stern, but his cheeks burn with shame as he's handed his own clipboard, and he avoids looking at the shirt as much as possible. Perhaps he can quickly ask three people about their shirts without having to answer for his own.

Anyway, no one said he had to tell the truth when questioned.



on a flip side

Darlington is not the sort to refuse participation out of spite, but there are some things he's not prepared to divulge to strangers, so eventually he'd taken the shirt and turned it inside out, keeping his statement hidden. Apparently this is frowned upon because the next thing he knows, he's ushered into a smaller room and forced into a massive shirt with a stranger.



the long way around

Darlington has never been much for cologne, and he does have to wonder why there are so many scents being advertised around the motel when its inhabitants can't possibly afford to buy them.

He arrives at the train station smelling of patchouli and pear, and trying to shake off the feeling he's let a ward down somewhere.




[ooc: Feel free to throw a wildcard at him. Will match format.]

My dearest idiot - I mean, ask me about x

[occultatum]

Nick's own shirt, cheerily stating ask me about demonic bindings is so blisteringly boring that Nick almost wishes he had something more interesting in his past. You know, a deep dark secret that was more than my girlfriend's dad both set us up, and is also inside of me. But whatever.

He's not paying too much attention, until the word manuscript catches his eye. It catches his eye, in fact, so completely he barely notices the strapping young thing it's attached to.

Nick looks up - he's always looking up - and then back at the shirt. "I am dearly hoping Manuscript isn't a bar."

Essek Thelyss | Critical Role | Dominant

[dunemantic]

( blindly we'll follow )

[ Trains are...new, but not the strangest addition to Essek's world. No, that would be the device in his hand, allowing communication across long distance without magic. What a disaster that would be in the hands of some people, such as the likes of one Jester Lavorre. He had spent some time in his new residence examining the thing, doing his best to understand how it worked. Now there was this. A train, and a tour. He sits by the window with his legs crossed under his cloak, listening intently and taking in the sights.

The sights, of course, being both outside and inside the train. There would be quite a bit to learn in this gilded cage. ]

( ask me about x )

[ Ask Me About Why I'm Floating is plastered across the front of the shirt Essek has been all but forced to wear, and every time he glances down at it or sees himself in a mirror he frowns. It was to be expected of course. If he was to be kept captive in a gilded cage there would have to be some form of torture, and to have him explain why he was floating half an inch off of the ground rather than walking, then so be it. He would get this task over with and in such a manner that would be to his own advantage. It's not the socializing he begrudges, but rather the exposure.

Well, at least his legs look good, though he would much rather they be hidden behind layers and not visible for all to see. ]

( The long way around )

[ Essek took his time assessing the situation, and the many people trying to get away from the overzealous perfumers, before making his approach. Consider him curious, and a touch used to the comforts of a good scent in a bottle. Being taken away from is usual staple, he's in the market for a new cologne anyway. He engaged pleasantly with them as they explained their wares, and prepared to dispel magic if necessary.

With how well teleporting back home had gone, he wasn't sure that it would work, but it didn't hurt to be prepared. No, no he would not be purchasing these scents, but they were fascinating none the less. Were he a chemist he might purchase one to study, but he did his best to politely decline and extricate himself from the conversation.

That was before being sprayed so haphazardly by one of them, before insisting with measured annoyance to know which he had been sprayed with, and immediately turning to leave. Back to his abode he would go, to wait this out. ]

[ ooc: I'm going to randomize which scent it is per comment! ]

( choose your own adventure )

[ hit me with anything! But note that he's an introverted magic user who dislikes being touched. ]

ask me about x;

[flurry_of_beaus]

[ Beau has good eyes. Maybe she's not as perceptive as, say, Caduceus, but she can read and she can can pick people out in a crowd. Especially familiar people in a buzzing hubbub of strangers. They all look mostly like her, which is to say human, so a drow sticks out like a sore thumb.

Now the shoe's on the other foot, Shadowhand. Ha ha ha.

Beau flings her arm up into the air to get his attention, weaving through the crowd as she does. And not bothering to keep her voice down as she calls to him. ]

Essek! Hey, hey, Essek! Why ya floating, buddy? Huh?