ercookies | TDM 001

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!tdm

TDM 001

TDM 001: TFLU

( 1 ) After leaving the teleportation chamber, you are gently coaxed out of the hospital and encouraged to find a place to stay. Maybe you've had time to check out your A5 app. Maybe you're just settling in. It's cloudy, overcast, cold -- you'll want to seek out someplace warm.

Also, your device is beeping. A lot. The tech on the island works, it just doesn't work right. You can't seem to send a message to the correct person.

It's time for...

Texts From Last Universe

( 2 ) What's this? Your bingo card has just been beamed to a stranger's inbox...?!
( sample A5 cards -- NSFW, may contain triggering content, please feel free to use/ignore as you see fit)

( 3 ) And now you're receiving messages from other users that they don't remember sending:

Nice shirt. It would look better on my floor.

10/10 would ride it into the sunset.

This user thinks you're attractive.

u up?

🍆

( 4 ) Once you figure out that the robots have been hacking your devices, it's no easy feat to track one down and demand they stop. "So The Augur wills!" they wail in a monotone. "So it is done!"

Any attempt to actually contact The Augur and get back into the hospital will be met with beefy robot bodyguards, who suggest taking a gentler approach to fix your devices.

If you know what they mean.

Wink.

(This is your overt kink prompt. Please label any threads accordingly.)

Note: All prompts are optional. The theme for this TDM is "malfunctioning devices." They can be fixed by indulging in the squares on your cards. For the sake of the TDM, you can use one of the pre-generated examples or a wildcard from the kink list. This can be used as a free bingo square completion once you have been accepted into the game. Players are welcome to wildcard their own TDM prompts; we only ask that you try to stick to the theme.

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N A V I G A T I O N

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[That's... actually, that's pretty useful. It's a little hard to see in that particular shot, but still recognizable—some form of robotic authority figure blocking access. It confirms what he already suspected, but didn't know for sure. Their keepers are pleasant enough on the surface, but something else entirely beneath.

Even so, McGillis yields little ground. Yet that might be called progress.]

Show me something worth sharing and I'll consider it.

[And then maybe he'll share in return. Or maybe not. Obstinate and vain, like the world's priciest pussycat.]

[damn, not to bring the b-card into play here, but this fits at least "Authority figures" and "negotiation." Prompto could practically be living blissfully quiet of the torrent of sexts he's been receiving all day. some attention is nice, ego boosting even. the massive amount that's been coming through lately just makes him feel cheap.

speaking of cheap, though, he tries to garner McGinnis' trust by offering a few pictures he managed to nab of the hospital, the guards in particular, hell- even one pic of a robot's hand covering the camera (oops), and then the general entrance of the place with a few downtrodden people around, waiting for someone they know to also appear.

Prompto figured that if his people were coming, he'd find them. waiting around only made him more anxious to the idea that they never might come.]

Aaaand. That's part one.

[for a small fee, part two can be delivered.

he presses the camera's off button. this is about as clickbaity as an onlyfans at this point. which is to say-]

Still interested?

Part one.

[Sounds sketchy. Also sounds like bait. McGillis bites anyway.]

You're charging pay-per-view for the pleasure? It seems like you're running quite the scheme.

[Although it's a little questionable he's hogging so much warmth, given he's wearing a heavier uniform. It might just be the principle of the thing, or his unwillingness to fall back on his agreeable nature. A deeply scheming, utterly slimy nature, but he's pretty enough when he plasters on a smile for the public so it amounts to about the same.

Or for someone who can give him what he wants. He hums, as if considering the proposal...]

[he absolutely is. now that he's leaning down like this and sitting still, he realizes that a sleeveless jacket and t-shirt might not get him incredibly far as it is. it didn't bother him so much when he was wandering the streets aimlessly and taking pictures left and right, but that's how warmth works, huh?

he tilts his head to the side. is this even a bargaining chip at this point? who knows, but he'll try regardless.]

That's sad, I was really looking forward to sharing that blanket with you.

[but what must be, must be. que sera, after all. he starts to stand up again, as if he's ready to leave and find the next empty building with a random blanket in it to cuddle up to for warmth.]

[Ahem.]

I don't believe I granted you permission to leave.

[No kidding about that "authority figure" box, huh?

McGillis, having made up his mind, holds out his hand expectantly.]

Hand over the camera, just for a moment. I'm more than capable of reviewing your evidence for myself.

[In exchange, he flicks the sacred cloth Prompto's way. "Negotiation" successful.]

[he raises an eyebrow, the corner of his lips moving slightly upward. he's won out on a heated negotiation after all, and as much as it dismays McGinnis, it's still a small victory for someone like Prompto, who honestly doesn't win very often. there's also something commanding about his voice that piques his interest- whether or toy around with it a little more or just just let it slide off his back is another decision he'll have to make.

but even as Prompto gets a hold of the blanket, feeling its warmth still there from the body that it had once wrapped around it, he feels a weird sort of inability to just hand his camera over to a stranger. that thing in his hands? this thing, right here. it's his entire world. it has every last memory of the trip he took with Noctis, and every stop they made along the way. it's sacred to him in a way that things are usually not religious at all to him.]

No can do, major.

[that's probably not his rank.

he winds up sitting down anyway, invading personal space without invitation.]

It's nothing against you or anything. It's just.... this thing's kinda like my lifeline, you know? [in other words, he'd die without it. true to form though, he offers some of the blanket back to the other man.]

I'll flip through them for you, if you want. Can even zoom in on anything you ask.

I'm a decorated general.

[Most definitely not. Ordinarily he'd protest, since cameras were the same as any other piece of technology—just a means to an end—but something about that choice of phrasing distracts him. Reminds him of something else, of a machine that existed outside such rules. Waiting in the hangar, restrained by aggravating rules. But certainly like a lifeline.

Certainly, it would've been the end of the world. Just not this one.

Seems negotiations are over, anyway, so he'll peer at Prompto's hands. He waves off the blanket, recognizing his loss, and focuses on the task at hand. This close, his eyes are a vivid green; bargained down, the harsher edge to his tone fades to smooth intonation. Diplomatic and cordial, the charming serpent of Gjllarhorn.]

Scroll. And send them all to my device, once you're through.

[Time to dust off those inspection gloves... well, so to speak.]

[still terse and stuffy, he wonders if this guy has been a career military man his entire life. Prompto's honestly not that different, being a member of the Crownsguard himself, even if his respect for authority ended pretty much at the heels of his best friend-prince. he's met people like this before, so it's not really that strange. almost everyone took the command a lot more outwardly serious than he did, even if he was right up there in lineup of people who would give their lives to protect their sovereign. but, details.

he notices the eyes so intently fixed on the little window through which Prompto had organized his entire world into- and feels a bit of relief that there's something he can still do that provides value to other people. and so, he starts scrolling, going through (rather) amazing shots of the city. his ability to take a good picture knows literally no bounds.]

It doesn't seem like the city's very big, but when you get to the outskirts, there's almost nothing. Usually you can kinda see lights out in the distance if there's a nearby city, or even some sort of sign of life, but-

[he shows off an image of the pitch black]

Nothing.

[it's kind of depressing, honestly.]

[McGillis assesses each shot with care, taking in the little details and organizing them into a much bigger picture—a precious camera of his own. He has no taste for any attempts at artistic flair, but he values information. And he could use this information, capitalize upon it. Particularly the curious cataloging of city limits, and the absence of light at its very edge.

And yet he doesn't look the slightest bit disturbed by that.]

It's a prison.

[McGillis concludes as much, and with confidence, after just a moment's worth of thought.]

They're caging us. And attempting to instill discipline through fear... fear of the unknown, specifically. Doubtful they could maintain order through strong-arming alone, but there is nothing human beings dread more than a world without light. It's how we're programmed, down to our most primitive instincts.

[wow, that's.

awfully prophetic in a way that he can't even begin to describe in a way that would make sense to the decorated general. he gives a short nod, understanding- but not offering much more information beyond that.

it's kind of hard to really say who "they" are, when it doesn't seem like anyone has an understanding of exactly what this Augur is, or why it's so interested in the sexual deviations and perversions of the humans around here. who knows? he's had his fill of taking down empires before, and it wasn't entirely pleasant.]

I know you said you're a general, and all. [he checks his pockets to make sure he still has his camera cord- and then bleakly wonders if there's even a way to transfer the images over to McGillis' bracelet.]

But you seem like you, uh. Might've dealt with this kinda thing before. [no? come on, there's gotta be a way to share these awesome pics. he looks over slightly, inspecting in his own way as he usually tries to suss people out.]

Hopefully not from the outside of the cage, though.

Men have gazed upon the starry sky from the very beginning. And it is only because of those stars, because of that light, that we ventured into darkness.

[He's distracted enough by the startling shots that he doesn't notice the fumbling around. Or doesn't comment upon it, likely because he already predicted he wouldn't get much else out of this boy. And he's definitely a boy, definitely young. Plucky, which he can admire in some small part, but hopelessly inexperienced. So he thinks.]

It is often said that the seven sacred stars of Gjallarhorn light the way.

[He taps the badge over his own heart. Seven silver stars, falling from a blue, blue sky.]

And that is surely true, for all darkness will yield to light.

[wow, okay. this is a little nerdy, even for someone like Prompto, who used to stay up until 2, dare, even, 3 am playing mobile games on his phone because (he couldn't sleep sometimes and things like annoying thoughts kept worming their way in there of insignificance and imposter syndrome) he couldn't let his friends top his high score. he stops fumbling around to grab a usb cable out of his pocket to seriously give this guy a listen, and he's trying really hard not to lend a goofy, half-crescent smile at how incredibly lame the monologue is. but he gives him props, he's really into. passion is always an infectious thing for the blond.

and be that as it may, Prompto's not that inexperienced, but by the standards of his own society, he's a full fledged adult, despite the outward appearance and lackadaisical sort of world view.]

That was... very illuminating.

[punning, as usual, he looks down at his camera does that he doesn't have to look McGillis in the face.]

Not wrong though. Even in the worst times, there's always something good to hang onto. A single flashlight can turn an empty room into something way more spacious.

[he does note the badge.]

Hey, uh. Thanks again. General.

For the blanket and everything.

You're not fooling anyone with that false flattery, or that awful attempt at oration.

[Oops, that quiet judgment might backfired a bit. At least McGillis has the courtesy to look amused, and wouldn't have been offended anyway; he doesn't care what Prompto thinks, doesn't care what anyone thinks as long as he finds a way back home. Even this world's secrets meant nothing in comparison to the greater goal.

Although it wouldn't hurt to know them, especially before anyone else.]

And you're not connecting anything with that outdated junk. Utilize another method.

[The cruel hits just keep on coming...]

[yeah, that... few inches of space where he was offering to share his new best friend, the blanket? it's being rescinded. blankets are for people who don't openly insult him. not that it seems like the good general cares either way, but he's now incredibly hyper aware that yes, this blanket is in way better hands wrapped around himself.

but thinking about going home... Prompto should be more worried about that very thing, but the road back is inlaid with a lot of things that were left unsaid and a plethora of guilt of what had went down. some Crownsguard he ended up being.

regardless, he sucks in air through his teeth.]

I'll have you know, this is a state of the art media transfer cable.

[it's a usb cord.

he can't impress a 7-star general with that.]

Too bad they're gonna have to stay here on my device.

[he turns the camera mode back on, and then points it up towards McGillis, snapping a shot.]

Whoa. I think I'll name this one... "jerkward in his natural habitat."

[it's beautiful. belongs in an art gallery. stunning. flawless. 10/10.]

Edited 2020-05-20 04:16 (UTC)

[Oh, my. Seems Mr. Sunshine found his fangs all of a sudden. He laughs, and it's not an unkind sound, even coming from an unkind man. More of a reserved chuckle, and while most people would've had the dignity to complain about that violation of personal space twice over... Mr. Jerkwad delights in the attention, notably because Prompto was so miffed.]

Ah, but I'm already a controversial figure, so I've heard it all before.

[An international fugitive and a war criminal, to be exact. But hey, details, right?]

Are you giving up so soon? Your youthful vigor has its limits, I see.

Edited (repetitititititivityness) 2020-05-20 04:44 (UTC)

[Prompto has big "I won't hesitate" energy, but alas, most of his bark is without the signature butt biting that should accompany it. easy enough to snuff out, he doesn't really prefer conflict if he can avoid it. he's been through enough of it over the last year, having to mow down daemons and, uh, MT's alike. besides, there's almost a flirtatious way he goes about insulting McGillis, despite having immortalized his stature in 9mm.]

Definitely going to sell this to the local "Sexbot Times," if you really need to know. The telling exposé will reveal everything.

[nothing looks as intimidating as the hard light from the window shining on those 7 aligned stars, all neatly arranged on his uniform. it actually is a kind of neat picture, trolling aside. too bad there's no way to transfer... as far as he knows. he looks over and smiles, somewhat.

would it be really weird to ask---]

Let me take a few more?

[as youthful and vigorous as it gets, all wrapped up in a blanket package, dude.]

Show me some military poses. [he eyes the room around him- there's a certain ambiance to capture here. the glory of the military, surrounded by the ruins of a decayed building! that's pretty fire for an aspiring photog, like Prompto.

and, also, he's kinda good looking. there's always that.]

[Pushy little brat, isn't he? McGillis lets him have his way for a minute or two, unfazed and unruffled. He's used to insults and he's used to having cameras and microphones shoved in his face, so he just stares back. Cool, calm, and collected, the spitting image of the unfettered general who could order a man to his death without hesitation—or swing the axe himself.

But eventually he does rise, to full height, revealing himself as very, very tall and very, very broad in the shoulders. There's a lot of muscle under that uniform, enough to crack someone's skull open, though he's mannered in his approach as he comes to loom over Prompto. Take a few more? Well, of course. He could take as many as he cared to.

It just wasn't going to come cheap.]

How unfortunate. But we did have a deal, so...

[He's very good looking, thanks for noticing. All the easier to appreciate when he's leaning in with a crisp smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.]

...pull up your device. Your other device, the one around your wrist.

[yes, that's it. work that camera, darling. those hidden muscles can't hide from the lens, and a small click sound emanates as he captures the essence of the moment. this guy's got pound cake for days. lord knows, his propensity of taking photos of literally everything... even when his teammates are dying in battle... will eventually one day pay off. it started out as a promise to Noct, after all. document everything! the world won't always be like it is.

yeah, that much was absolutely true.

but then McGillis comes in front, too close, with all the finesse of a cat meandering into a crowded zoom call, and Prompto pulls away to look past the window behind the shutter. what is he up to?]

Huh? I thought our relationship was a like a mullet- business in the front, party in the back.

[what in the ever loving fuck?

Prompto raises an eyebrow, the blanket shrugging off around thin shoulders as he obliges, reaching up to bring his wrist at eye level. the lump in his throat hardens a little bit. okay, dude, that's a little too close for comfort. he can see pores. gorgeous pores, but pores, nonetheless. Prompto suddenly feels a lot more self-conscious about the light freckles splattered like constellations around his nose.]

What can I do you for?

[phrasing.

he definitely doesn't have enough gil for that.]

Pull up your card.

[Bossy, bossy. At least there's no imminent threat, not yet, just the implied weight of a command. Of an order, which he expects to be obeyed. On his end, he sifts through his own bracelet, searching for the card in question. His fingers are swift, refined, and strangely delicate for a man of his stature.]

You also received one, I'm presuming. You're going to complete one of those squares for me.

[Not enough gil in the world to afford this prima donna, but that's fine. They'll talk in a different kind of currency.]

Now or later, that's up to you. But I will get this technology working, one way or another.

[how dare you, McGillis Fareed!?

but, also.

well, okay, this wouldn't necessarily be the worst thing in the world to happen, right? under no uncertain terms, the robots had basically said that privileges will not be restored until the banging resumes, and as much as Prompto has been pushing that aside, it's probably a stark reality that one or two of those things are going to have to get done.

the only thing is- there are items on that card that are enough to make him want to fade away into non-existence, no matter how gung-ho he could be about some of them. sharing the list with people just opens up doors to uncomfortable situations, like, for example, the one they're having right now.

ah, to have the good old days of grindr back, when the fate of an entire world didn't rely on getting your dick sucked.]

Uhh...

[okay, okay. give him a second to orient.]

Maybe a little mood music first?

[what? he just wants what any semi self-loathing post-pubescent guy with hormones wants. but he senses the request just isn't going to fly with McGillis, and sighs as he pulls up his b-card. he can still back out if he wants to, but there's admittedly.

something kinda sexy about a man who knows exactly what he wants and how he wants it?

don't shame him.]

[McGillis, however, doesn't so much as blink at any of those options. He's just scanning down columns, across rows, taking mental notes and comparing it to his own card but otherwise refraining from any sort of judgment. In fact, he's almost disturbingly calm, eerily nonchalant—almost as if he's seen it all before, done it all before. Probably because he has.

Except for one square. Truly the most wretched of preferences, the foulest of kinks, the square that reveals Prompto as the sick son of a bitch behind that cheery smile. It could only be...]

Cuddling...?

[McGillis just raises a thin blonde brow, equal parts skeptical and suspicious.]

That's your sweet spot? Being held like some sort of deprived child?

[So much shaming, son. All of the shaming.]

I didn't put this list together!

[as if he's actively trying to deny that cuddling isn't on his own personal top ten. what a sick fuck. never mind the blossoming leather daddy potential that his b-card could be spawning right now. he ought to turn his face away from McGillis. no one so filthy should look upon the gaze of such an esteemed general.

but yes, absolutely. please hold him. he's so touch starved and an absolute mess otherwise.]

... but what's wrong with having an emotional, tender moment between two consenting adults?

[DEPRAVED.]

[Heavy, heavy sighing.]

Goodness, I just got up.

[But lucky you, you perverted bastard, here he comes. At least he's shrugging off that heavy coat so he doesn't crush Prompto in all the weight of those sacred seven stars, but it still means he's getting scooped up like a sack of potatoes and dumped on that accommodating lap. And isn't the sweet? They wound up sharing the blanket after all.

McGillis, once again, seems unfazed by by this development, even as he drapes arms over Prompto's shoulders and starts fiddling with his device.]

Hm. Does it specify the length of time...?

[No big deal. Totally normal, getting swallowed up by the Great Wall of McGillis.]

[without enough time to properly set this whole cuddle sesh up, and without the ability for Prompto to subsequently chicken out of it, the entire movement happens as one giant casual leap forward into supposedly intimate territory. for a second, he's a deer in headlights. really, dude?

really.

the two are a match for sighing, as he feels a little uncomfortable, even swept up and kept in McGillis' lap. this is so procedural, it's almost like it's a tick in the general's social calendar. wake up, salute the stars, get dumped into an foreign universe, sweep an unsuspecting civ into his arms, and then go home to a glass of whiskey and some smooth stylings of military marches on his finely kept 12" player. he rests the side of his head against him, in a slow realization of defeat.

he should probably go, right? like, this is actually getting a bit much. just take his new blanket and skedaddle. but now that he's checking the filth stats, there's a resounding "nope" coming from its unmarred box. that's not going to fly. and for a moment, instead of thinking this is kind of dumb and pointless and a little goofy, maybe this guy's just never had a really good cuddle? sucking in the sides of his cheeks, he looks upward to stern facial features, thin lines of brows, and peak physical perfection in its finest.]

Dude. I don't think we're gonna get anywhere like this. You've got the inner warmth of a king cobra. Loosen up a bit.

[hm.]

Mind if I, uh. Help you out here?

[He's right. The sex gods are not pleased with this tribute, evidently because someone exudes the warmth of... well, a king cobra. And because McGillis absolutely doesn't see this as an act of legitimate intimacy, but just another check in a box. Or a tick in his social calendar, as it were.

He glances down at his catch, with no small amount of irritation, and almost seems offended. Except it's a little half-hearted, because he might've been caught out of his element.]

Isn't this sufficient?

[And that's no joke. He really doesn't know any better, thanks to less than fortunate experiences in the past.]

Texts From Last Universe

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oh god i totally realized i accidentally wrote mcginnis the last tag, i'm so sorry :c

that dastardly McGinnis Fasteed...!

HIS EVIL (?) TWIN APPEARS help im canon blind af

you just tagged a main antagonist, son, set sail for ARDYN

LMAO GOD...... i should've known with a name that LITERALLY has villain in it. either way, nice

you be the good blonde, I'll be the bad blonde, it's all gravy

please look forward to their buddy cop movie

wheezes as I wake up... thank you, stranger

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