duplicitymemes | TDM #10

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TDM #10

« « « TEST DRIVE MEME » » »

« « « LIFE WILL GO ON

It's discouraging to think how many people are shocked by honesty and how few by deceit. Yet, solace is found in the lies we tell each other, comforted by the peace of knowing that we're not alone in our depravity, and once on this path, sin itself becomes the lesser of two evils masked in a cloud of normalcy.

This is how Duplicity has functioned since the beginning. The divide of power and social standing is overt in that Dominants influence the decisions made both publicly and privately while Submissives cater to the rules presented to them. It is the way of Duplicity to assign random designations at birth with no leeway in altering what has been given. Climate in the Up is far stricter than that of the Down; violating outlined personas for a Dominant or Submissive while in full view of others is punished by degree of infraction. In the Down, many tend to turn a blind eye to these sorts of offenses.

To counteract the discovery of the Deceit Gene – a natural "negative" response to all stimuli – the L.I.E.S. program was founded. The program had been designed to introduce new subjects to the current environment and test for the Deceit Gene through immersion in Duplicity's standing society. Sexual impulses and encounters increase the chances of detecting the gene within these individuals. Participants are typically released from L.I.E.S. after a year; however, results have remained unsatisfactory and testing still continues.

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

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

If you enter Duplicity into the Up, congratulations! You’re a Dominant, which means you are immediately picked up by a limo after processing and taken to your highrise. Here, it is two Dominants per floor with separate apartments. If you enter Duplicity into the Down, congratulations! You’re a Submissive, which means you are directed towards public transportation with the address of the motel you’ll be living in. Here, it is two Submissives per room with a shared common space for all rooms.

Enjoy your free time until orientation! Participation is mandatory by all new and old arrivals.

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

» » » BLINDLY WE'LL FOLLOW

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

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

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

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

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!!

» » » MAIN NAVIGATION « « «

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"No? You were the full monty, then? Start to finish?" If his eyebrows lift any higher, they'll join his hairline.

One of them begins to wander back downward in a slow, skeptical sink. "Someone here from Eden? So I suppose that's why I was to ask you about it? A transparent set-up, Madame. Very sadly so. You can tell anyone you like." He looks around and raises his voice. "That's right. I know what you're all up to. I'm sure some of you had no choice. I won't hold it against you."

He looks back to her, very satisfied. "The gig, as they say, is up."

[ Poe hates those collars almost as much as he hates the even more permanent tattoos that now mark both of his friends's throats. It's a minor thing, they'll find a way to remove those once they're away from this place, he's confident, but it's a persistent reminder of how this place has deemed them lesser, not quite to the level of property but close enough that it makes his blood boil. He feels that prickle of temper, watching Rey reaching for that restrictive metal band around her neck, but he shoves that down too. He's got to stay focused, if not for his own sake then definitely for hers. The less attention they attract, the better, and there's nothing to gain from gaining her a 'troublesome' reputation right off the bat if they can help it.

Of course he did exactly that, but that's not the point.

It doesn't occur to him that she might be worried about him. All he's thinking is that she must be looking forward to some privacy, where they can talk without dozens of eyes lingering on them. This is a lot to take in, she must have a lot of questions yet to be answered, and they could both do without the annoyance of too many strangers eavesdropping on their conversation.

To say nothing of that kiss. ]

Almost there.

[ He'll lead her right into the building, the unassuming-looking bracelet on his hand is all the identification he apparently needs to walk on through the lobby. It's a very regular and expected occurrence for Dominants to escort Submissives to their apartments, and if this is noted at all it would likely be a point in his favor, since he's being subtly encouraged to court potential contracts.

Stepping into the elevator is a mild relief. ]

You can go ahead and take it off. [ A pause, and he clears his throat slightly. ] The collar, I mean.

[ Obviously. ]

Lilith offers a smile and dares to step a little closer, confident that he'll back away before she does.

"You're missing the facts, angel."

And maybe she'll feed him a tiny little bit, see where his mind leaps. It wasn't only angels or demons at Eden.

"I wasn't a demon when I was in Eden."

But it's also not her most interesting thing. Or maybe it will be.

[ it is a lot, and jitter knows phillip is trying to be helpful, but just adjusting to being viewed as a person is vaguely terrifying. still, the offer is kind, and he should make some attempt to adjust to the local culture, as it's apparent his caste isn't recognized here.

forcing his eyes not to drop, he jerks his head in a short, small, slightly breathless nod. ]

Water. My diet is restrictive. [ and he hasn't had time yet to sort out if his body can handle local teas. either way, getting out of the cold will be welcome. ] .. Thank you.

Beau has similar problems what with being a Submissive, but she isn't above stealing a little something here and there as needs must and with her criminal background she's more likely to find a job wandering around these stalls than purchase anything.

"Beauregard. Lionett." With a name as pretty as the woman's, it seems only fitting to give her whole name as well. Not that it means anything or can be traced to anywhere, not around here. "But you can call me Beau. Pleasure to meet you."

As an afterthought, she offers her hand. Beau isn't necessarily the best with social graces, but she means well enough.

"I'm not looking for anything in particular. Just... comparing? What's here to what's at home? It's easy to get caught up in all the changes so I figured I'd start from the ground up."

What I mean is that there is no absence of love in the presence of pure Love. It is what we angels are.

[He squeezes his hands with all of the genuine affection he feels for humanity as a whole, careful not to open the floodgates wide. The human mind, in his experience, has difficulty coping with an angel fully unmasked, even one as low in the hierarchy as he.

The sensation fades with the withdrawal of his clasp. He pats his shoulder and bends to retrieve both clipboards, passing Martin's over.]

Now, I believe you were saying something about Crowley?

The man he headbutts is a 5'6", underweight, gangly thing that collapses backward with a yelp. He'd just been trying to push past on the crowded street and now he's on the ground. Curiously, perhaps, for such a solid hit, there's very little blood coming from his nose, just a streak or two. Jon squints up at his assailant as the man cackles.

Right, well. That's an indication he really ought to run away. "For god's sake, get a life," he snaps as he rolls over to his knees and tries to pick himself up. The crowd of people around him has decided that a relatively wide buffer is in order now after watching Cain do that, so there's room enough for it. That does mean disappearing into the crowd after shouting an insult might be more difficult.

Edited 2020-01-14 18:42 (UTC)

[If it helps at all, Phillip is by no means insisting on eye contact- he's actively avoid that. Staring down Death tends to be uncomfortable for most people. But the fact that Jitter's trying is at least encouraging.] No problem.

[He'll lead the way to a nearby cafe and gets them both drinks- Jitter gets water as requested, but Phillip suspects he might need coffee for this. Unless Jitter has any clear preference, he'll go ahead and put them in a little booth out of the way.] Have you had orientation yet?

[Pity it's not one of the older style bench seat cars. Those were lovely for sitting in nice and close. It's what he wants in the moment, just to sit right up next to him and wrap him up in both arms. Poor bugger seems to need it, too, the way he's carrying on.

He reaches out a few times to pat him on the knee, a little punctuation to every couple of sentences or so with comforting little noises thrown in on top of it.]

Crowley. When I say slow down, for once I'm not speaking of your driving, although it's hardly improved. What--what is all of this about mice, and biscuits, and tea?

Martin? Lovely young man. I met him at the dull mingle. He was as much in a lather as you are now. You really should breathe. I'll let you have my alcohol if it will help.

"No, it would not." It's not a particularly fussy correction, just a certain one.

That's a sticky wicket question. He's not completely sure how to answer it, because when it comes to God, he's never completely sure of anything. All part of ineffability. "As much as I ever do," he says at last. "Her ways are mysterious, even to us. How did you get tangled up in your mess? It's a deep one."

[ he's silent through the entire thing, remains silent as they're seated, though his eyes go half-lidded and sleepy-looking in the warmth. as phillip settles, he even goes so far as to remove his gloves, pushing them down into the pocket of his overcoat. beneath, his hands are black-marked, like odd tattoos of serpent-skin that trail over the back of each finger, up onto the back of his palm, and disappear into his sleeves.

he curls both hands around the cup, glance flicking back up at the question. ]

Yes. [ a pause, blinking slowly. ] I had difficulty concentrating. [ it had been important, so he'd done his best, but he knows he missed things. normally, he'd have a junior executioner to take notes for him, but it hadn't been an option this time. ] I remember to be deferential. That I'm required to sexually satisfy someone three times a month by law. That.. the program is a year..?

[ Beau blinks about four times rapidly, trying to process what's just be said with the maximum amount of aplomb and nonchalance. It's a hard struggle, but she wins out, looking surprise, surely, but not outright flabbergasted like she wants to be. ]

Let's start with this space whale. And what you mean by superhero. Then I'll tell you about some dope monk shit that I can do.

[The Archivist looks about as thoroughly unimpressed about the whole affair as the woman he's been stuck with. Ask me about Mr. Spider! is not actually anything he wants to be asked about by perfect strangers. So, here he is. Possibly trying to spill some red wine on the shirt to obscure it might have had something to do with the situation.]

Just give me your hand. It doesn't say where we have to kiss each other or how long we have to do any of that.

[He will rules lawyer this to death if he has to.]

[Right. A hand on the knee is fine, Aziraphale probably won't be upset at Crowley for allowing this once he's back to himself. Because that's the crux of it, really. Crowley has to be the responsible one, here, has to be careful what he accepts. It'd kill him if he ruined everything so soon by taking advantage of Aziraphale's sudden desire to be affectionate.

He should be mortified at those little comforting noises, too, but the worst part of all of it is that they actually help.

So Crowley does what he's told, breathing in and out, eyes on the road for once, not quite able to look at Aziraphale.]

I've been here almost four months.

[That seems — the smartest thing to say. Something that might offer some explanation. About the tea and the mice and the lovely young man. He keeps his mouth shut for a bit, to allow that to sink in, to wait for whatever questions Aziraphale has next.]

Yeah... don't blame you. [Admittedly Phillip had to sit through the damn thing every time they had one for a year, so by the end he was basically resorting to napping through them.]

Yeah, the program's a year. Not a hell of a lot changes when you're done with it, though, you still have to have a contract. You've got three months to find one, and then they last for three months so you can choose to let them lapse or renew. They are very serious about the contracts and quota so I wouldn't try testing them.

[Here's something new under the sun. It has him genuinely delighted and burning with curiosity. The party itself may be a dud. The guests, some of them, not so much.]

Oh, I'm not sure it's what I've done as much as it could be what I haven't.

[His smile is as bright as his enthusiasm.]

I'm not much an accumulator of dark secrets.

[He's not completely subtle in the way he's trying to get a look at his shirt.]

What of you? And if you don't mind my asking, where are you from? I've been all over and never once seen anyone quite like you.

[ Beau looks less than pleased by this prospect, even if it is just a kiss to the hand. She wouldn't be comfortable with a kiss on the hand from any man, but at least she would have tolerated it if it had been a choice on both their parts rather than forced by some higher, restrictive, stupid power.

With an incoherent grumble, she puts out her hand, face screwing up in displeasure. ]

I guess it could be worse, right?

[ Reassure her that it could be worse, oh random dude. ]

"A very poor choice of employment," Jon replies, tone extremely dry. He's not going to out and out deny what he is--he's given up on that to some extent--but he's not going to elaborate unless pressed on it. "What is an angel of the Lord doing selling books."

A pause, then Jon scrunches up his nose. "Please don't tell me you're selling the 'good word' or something utterly trite like that."

[He's angling toward the perfume display when he's addressed, turning and looking up, and then up again, eyes wide with curiosity.

Another friend of Crowley's. Honestly, he's completely unsure what to make of it and starting to have a sinking feeling Hell may not be the one behind this at all. Would Heaven bother with such subterfuge? To what end?

It's as far as his racing thoughts get before the man is bowing to him, and--oh, of course. It makes sense now. A priest. No trace of his inward sigh escapes. It would hardly be kind, after all, when the man is so deeply earnest.]

Oh, please. You mustn't. There's no need for that, Father. The Lord is the only one who deserves such subservience, yes? We are mere servants.

[There. That sounds sufficiently along the party line. He hopes.]

And that is what Darlington was afraid of. He'll have to trade in secrets here, most likely. Intellectually, he knows Lethe's secrets likely mean nothing here. If these people can reach into his world, they likely know about the magic there already. Still, it's three years of rule and more than a dozen of habit to suppress.

"Not properly, no." He settles himself easily into a seat at the table. Despite being dressed only in a t-shirt, he manages to look like he's perfectly comfortable. "We don't really have anything like that in my world. Is that what you are? A warlock?"

The only truly troubling things about the mingle are the fact that he is here at all, in any way, and the fact that he can't leave. He has tried several times to no avail. Being trapped isn't something he has much experience with.

The longer he has been at this party, the more he is getting the sense it's the same for the others here. He has far more entries on his clipboard now than the requisite three. It's his curiosity that has kept him here, asking and answering questions, mingling and avoiding the sub-par refreshments.

It's the body language of the gentleman approaching him that has him smiling. He carries himself with proper dignity and manners, so Aziraphale bows slightly in kind.

"Not at all, not at all. Please, ask away. I wouldn't have to be obsessed with books to enjoy a good discussion about them, would I?" Obsessed, indeed. Hmph.

We could be trapped in a murder building with random harpies trying to eat us. Of course it could be worse.

[Grumbled right back as he gives her knuckles a perfunctory peck, then considers his own hands. After a moment of hesitation, he gives her the left. It's covered in eye tattoos on the back of his hand and along the first line of his knuckles. The other, she might have noticed, has terrible burn scars on it.]

Jon...Jon.

[It's like once he starts talking, he can't stop. He's...radiating this nervous energy like he can't contain it inside of himself. She stops him, puts her hands carefully on his shoulders, almost like she's trying not to spook a wounded animal.]

Slow down. What in the world are you talking about? Elias? The man barely leaves his office.

"They are, aren't they?" Oh, goodness. That was uncharitable of him, being somewhere new and already complaining. He supposes he can't be blamed for being out of sorts. "Gauche and obsessed with public displays, as well." Apparently he has more to say. No one is more surprised than he. He's normally much better at buttoning it up than this.

"Aziraphale." He shakes his hand. He should have broken that up more, made it sound like the name he'd given in the mixer. Why didn't he?

"Oh, no, I'm not new at all. I'm older than time." He draws up and stammers. "Did you mean new here?"

"Not precisely the outfit I might have chosen to introduce myself in," he says with wry amusement. The shirts could be worse, of course. They could be much shorter, and Declan has already seen one or two people have theirs removed entirely.

"Are you new?"

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TDM #10

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the long way around: cedar-sandalwood

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On a Flip Chart

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Delightful!

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