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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Jon doesn't even bother to not roll his eyes, but he does pull his clipboard back enough to write down... some of that.

"None of your business," he snaps instinctively, bristling at the other man's question as his gaze shoots up to glare. At least for a moment or two before he remembers he has to play along, as well. Or at least he should. Jon purses his lips, then with clear reluctance amends, "A book. That's all. A character in a book. Nothing terribly interesting.

"Are we done? Does that count?"

He begins to write and speak aloud as he does so. "Subject became agitated when queried. Book character. Boring." Setting his pen down and clasping it against the clipboard, he looks around. Others are talking longer. If they can keep him from bringing his own clothes to him and from leaving this room, they can probably enforce their game.

"You tell me." Somehow, he doubts it.

"I'm not agitated! Don't write that!" How dare this man! "What sorts of books do you sell? Or collect. Anything actually interesting? You said you have quite the collection."

In spite of himself, Jon does have an interest in books. Especially when he can sense the Statements brimming inside this man. He's trying to ignore that. "Nothing from the library of Jurgen Leitner, by chance?"

Edited (question marks are hard, apparently) 2020-01-13 14:49 (UTC)

"Right. Subject claims he is not agitated." He would be agitated if he had something as awful breathing down his neck as this man seems to. Perhaps he's used to it? "Period."

He scoffs lightly. "They're all interesting to someone. That's the nature of books, isn't it? Something for every taste?" All of his books are for his tastes, likely why he does everything in his power to avoid selling them.

"No. Haven't heard that name before. Is he very obscure?" In spite of himself, this piques his interest. He can only hope it's not one of those self-published ones who claim their lack of grasp of grammar as 'style.' An abomination to the industry, allowing every Tom, Dick, and Harry a platform.

Bastard.

"Subject," Jon starts, writing much harder than he needs to be, "appears to be an ass. Further observation will be made to confirm." So, there.

"That tells me absolutely nothing about your collection. Genre? Era? Are you a bookseller or a bookkeeper? You're not a very good salesman." A pause, then writing it down as he dictates. "Subject is not a very good salesman in spite of claiming to be a bookseller.

"Leitner is a collector. Was. His library is obscure to most ordinary people, but infamous in the appropriate circles. There's nothing tawdry, before you start." This place being what it is. "Simply... esoteric."

"Subject also very touchy." He speaks it slowly and more under his breath as he writes. "There. That should satisfy them that I did indeed speak with you."

He tucks the pen into the clipboard and holds it neatly behind his back in both hands. "All sorts of genres and eras, of course. It's not niche. Why would I be trying to sell you something that's not here? It's not like we can nip right out and run round the corner, is it?"

He shakes his head with a good degree of certainty. "No. If he's anyone of note, I'd know of him. I know all of the esoteric collectors. We're always after the same books. It's a small circle. I'm fairly sure you're not in it, either." His smile is the sort that really isn't.

"Definitely an ass," Jon mutters under his own breath, making another pointed note on his own clipboard. He hugs it to his chest again, hunching, rather than standing up proudly with it behind his back.

"Most salespeople I've met can't turn it off. So good for you, you can." His tone suggests that's not actually a compliment.

The smile and just... everything about the other man receives a scowl, in turn. "I'm the Archivist, not a rare book collector. I've seen the damage people in your 'circle' can cause when they think they're capable of controlling things they barely understand." Jon's gaze is growing more intense on the other man as his instincts to pick at those Statements he can sense rises. "But you'd know what sorts of problems those kinds of books can cause. Wouldn't you?"

There's something not quite right in the way the Archivist looks. Intent, unblinking, just a hair removed from something human.

Most of the commentary rolls off of him. He's aware he's being unfriendly by his standards, as it's difficult not to in the presence of such intense evil, even if said evil is more behind the man and not specifically of the man. And not being a salesman is entirely the point.

Having the energy focusing more sharply, and almost feeling as though it's trying to latch into him or onto him is something else. His faux affable tone of voice drops away completely. There's command, majesty, in the way he says quietly, "That's quite enough of that, thank you Sir." And although it's not visible in the room to the rest of the forced guests milling around, there is blinding Light where it can be Seen.

Just as quickly, he's an unassuming book salesman who isn't terribly good at it. "Is there a particular tome that interests you? Perhaps one with Mister Spider?"

It hurts, and Jon's eyes are watering by the time the other man is back to normal, but his expression has shifted to something akin to awe. That... it's like the opposite of the Extinguished Sun in terms of the nature of the 'light.' Jon's momentarily blinded to anything apart from the person in front of him.

He completely ignores Aziraphale's question to ask, "What are you? You're... that was beautiful." The Archivist is just a little breathless. He's seen terrible things and that was a bit terrible, but awesome, as well. He doesn't know what to do with it.

He sees no real point in trying to lie or obfuscate. If it comes down to it, he can possibly erase his memory of what he saw, although he truly hates doing such things and only retreats to such as a last resort. It's obvious to him that wherever he is, it's not a familiar place, and these are extraordinary times.

"I'm an angel of the Lord, a Principality, if we're to be precise. What you saw is Her light. Her Love."

"Wouldn't it be an angel of the Lady if she's a 'she'?" No. That's not the important detail to fixate on. Jon blinks a few times, looking Aziraphale over with more genuine and less... eldritch curiosity. Then, he looks around at the rest of the room. No one seems to be gaping at the other man, so that would appear to be a contained effect.

"I've met plenty of demons here. You might be the first angel. Can you still feel your god's presence here?"

"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."

"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."

"Mm, sadly that's often the case." Sign a little contract, make certain arrangements. Souls are very easy things to lose control of.

He makes a soft sound of distaste. "Hardly. There are Bibles in the collection. They're a small part of it. Why wouldn't an angel sell books? There's nothing wrong with reading. It's a rather pleasant pastime."

The first comment legitimately surprises him, and his expression shifts momentarily to concerned confusion. "You know other people who- ah, right. Hell." That makes more sense than there being another eldritch being like Elias being out in the universe. There probably is, but Jon isn't expecting to ever run into them.

"And yes, of course reading is pleasant. I just would have thought you'd have more to be getting on with than pastimes. Though, I suppose that would probably explain the state of the world." The comment isn't particarly vicious, just an idle musing.

"You said you were a Principality. I'm not Christian. Is that... a rank? Some sort of sub-species of angel?"

"That's free will for you." Not that at the moment he's particularly adamant about the party line. It's clear enough to him that Heaven and Hell are champing at the bit for War, and that if he and Crowley don't do something, they'll get what they want. He's not going to start pretending to understand God's ineffability now.

"A rank is a good way of looking at it, yes. I've been assigned to Earth for, oh, a long time now. Keeping track of years can be rather dull. I have to say, though, that in all that time I've never run across anything like your backseat pilot there." It's not a demon. That much he can tell.

He bristles again, but manages to hold his tongue. At least until he can offer in a deadpan tone, "Malevolent fear-based entity on another plane of existence, responsible for all supernatural activity." A brief pause. "I understand they're not common, generally, in other worlds. Or at least people aren't as aware of them. There are certain things here that mimic their influences from what I've seen.

"I do have a relatively extensive archive of first-hand accounts of esoteric happenings here in Duplicity from the native population. A number of them don't appear to be tied to the LIEs participants."

"Another plane. That's terribly interesting. A very different structure from home." In spite of himself, he's getting drawn in. His curiosity has always gotten him close to trouble. Now is no exception.

"You keep an archive? Fascinating. Almost anything back home people consider supernatural isn't really. People have marvelous imaginations and very creaky pipes. But you're saying that here it's real? Would you be so kind as to elaborate? What sorts of happenings?"

"It's all entirely uncommon where I'm from, as well," Jon assures. "I'm Head Archivist for the Magnus Institute, a research organization dedicated to the esoteric and paranormal happenings of the world. Most don't take us very seriously, and a majority of what people come to talk to us about really isn't supernatural. As you say, creaky pipes, wild imaginations, substance abuse, mental illness, and people just having a laugh make up quite a few of the Statements we have."

Jon sniffs disapprovingly. "My predecessor didn't feel compelled to actually do much weeding out of the wheat from the chaff. It's two hundred years-worth of materials, though. The archive I have here is a bit more manageable and I've been able to do quality control and authentication as things come in, rather than trying to follow up decades or even centuries later."

He's clearly getting into it, because he rolls right along to Aziraphale's question. "Oh, there are all sorts of things here, it's really interesting. There was an account from a deaf gentleman who found himself moved to violent slaughter by string quartet that he was somehow able to 'hear,' as it were. He found himself the only survivor at a theater massacre when staying late one night. When he went back the next day to 'face the music,' as it were, for the crime, there weren't any bodies, though. Nothing. I did a bit of modest follow-up, though. There had been several instances of violent deaths in the vicinity of the theater days or weeks earlier with injuries matching those that he described in his Statement. Ah, and then there was a unicorn on the beach, eating people. That turned out to be some variety of kelpie with a fishing spear stuck in its head. One of my associates dispatched the creature to ensure it wouldn't kill anyone else."

"Sounds rather fun, though. Poring through the records, investigating all of the claims. The fact that so many are rubbish must make the actual discoveries far more thrilling." It has certainly been so for him with his prophecies collection. Pity things are so up in the air with that. It keeps him from being able to appreciate it to its fullest.

"Now you know, I have heard of that, psychic impressions. Violence leaving behind traces of itself that some can pick up on." He has witnessed it in some very small instances, just as traces of love can linger on.

He lets out a sad little sigh. Such a pity about unicorns.

"Do you ever allow anyone else to read? If it's private, of course I wouldn't be offended at all. If it isn't, I'd love to have a peek."

Jon glances away and smiles just the tiniest bit. It's genuine, soft. His gaze searches for Martin in the crowd of people and spots a set of familiar auburn curls somewhere in the distance. "It has its perks now and again."

He clears his throat, expression returning to a mild frown and a light blush touching his cheeks. "It's certainly fascinating. We've discovered a relatively basic authentication method for whether or not the Statements are legitimate or whether they can be placed in the discredited file immediately. Real Statements can't be recorded on digital devices like a computer or phone. It just comes out covered with static. We record them on tape recorders, instead. Or, well... I record them, really."

Having thousands of years on Jon, Aziraphale may or may not be aware that audio recording of a written collection is an extremely odd practice for archiving. At least when it's not the voice of the original document writer.

"I don't allow review of the Statements I have from other LIERs unless they've explicitly provided me with permission, but if you have a research project specific to something that might be in the archives, the ones from the native public can be made available. I don't allow people to look simply out of idle curiosity. I can appreciate it, but these stories are grim tales detailing the terror and horror people have experienced related to supernatural occurrences.

"It would be a disservice to them to let just anyone have a look-in. As I'm sure you can appreciate, Mister...?"

Edited (i know what format we're using (last edit, i promise)) 2020-01-15 22:29 (UTC)

"That's intriguing." He looks thoughtful. He can come across as fluffy and unfocused, but in truth, he has quite the keen mind when he bothers to put in the effort. "I wonder if it has to do with energetic frequency, a basic incompatibility with the format. That's a useful discovery. I have a computer. I use it for my accounting." The last bit is thrown in as an afterthought.

"If the natives have anything to say about how others are kept here or experiences that relate directly or indirectly to our abductions I would be most interested." There's a project. He didn't have to think twice about it.

"Oh, yes, of course. I respect confidentiality." It's usually meaningless around him, but he respects it. In this context, he'd have to actively try to cheat. He sees no merit in attempting such a thing.

"It's a relatively good indication of if there are any supernatural forces being actively used, as well, when the tape is recording. There's static. I'm not entirely sure why. The Dread Powers are as old as sentient life, at a minimum. Maybe they're just retro." His expression is completely flat, which may make it difficult to tell that he's joking.

He does do the man the courtesy of thinking for a moment, expression pensive. "Nothing's coming immediately to mind, but I can check my files when I get out of here. I suppose that's something most people would want to know about. I'm Jonathan Sims, the Archivist. I do have a branch of the Magnus Institute here in Duplicity in the Up." He'll give the address. "If you come by in a few days, I can let you know if I've found anything.

"And perhaps you might write a Statement for me, yourself. How you came into existence would be highly intriguing." There's a rather hungry look in his eye as he speaks. "Or anything about your unusual interactions with humans on Earth, maybe."

Oh, no. Corny humor never goes over this angel's head. His grin is bright. "You joke, but I'll observe that at least in my world, both dread and heavenly powers are rather resistant to adopting new technology. Among my peers, I'm considered dreadfully modern for my computer." That's not even touching Crowley with his answerphone.

"I would greatly appreciate it. If you do find anything, a second set of eyes won't hurt." His own little joke given his true form. "I'm Mister Ziraphale." He accepts the address and clips it to the top of his clipboard for safekeeping. Normally, he'd spirit it away somewhere safe. Summoning objects and sending them away seem to be suppressed in this room.

"I truthfully don't know. I don't recall being created at all. I've always been." He knows that can't be completely true, because She came first. It's as close as he can get to describing how it feels. "I'm afraid it would be unethical for me to talk about my dealings with humans. Similar courtesy. I'm sure you understand." To another human not so bad. To whatever power lurks behind that gaze? Absolutely out of the question.

"What about your time in Heaven? Or the first war? The one where all the demons fell?" Jon's well aware he'd pressing his luck, but he can sense so much held within this man that he wanted. Just one little Statement. It's not conscious on Jon's part, just more of an ambient effect of what he is, but Aziraphale is likely to feel that there is a push against his mind to open up more, to let the words flow, stories form.

The Archivist's gaze is once more intent upon him, though not quite as intense as it was the first time.

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afraidtofall - 2020-01-16 04:34 (UTC) - Expand

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