![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
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. N A V I G A T I O N |
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.
oh god i totally realized i accidentally wrote mcginnis the last tag, i'm so sorry :c
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.
that dastardly McGinnis Fasteed...!
[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.
HIS EVIL (?) TWIN APPEARS help im canon blind af
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 just tagged a main antagonist, son, set sail for ARDYN
[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...]
LMAO GOD...... i should've known with a name that LITERALLY has villain in it. either way, nice
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.]
you be the good blonde, I'll be the bad blonde, it's all gravy
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.
please look forward to their buddy cop movie
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.]
wheezes as I wake up... thank you, stranger
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.
no subject
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.]
no subject
[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.
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.]
no subject
[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.]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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?
no subject
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.]
no subject
but not really, he just likes being close to people by proximity. it's nice to held by someone, even if he's not about to get into the fine details about that with a.) a total stranger and b.) someone who probably doesn't care either way. underneath everything, it makes him feel more like a person and less like a not-person, if that makes any sense.
making a sourpuss out of McGillis, though, that's probably just going to tip their robot overlords further toward the scale of "not legit."]
Probably not. But, hey, man. It's okay.
[he takes it failure isn't something the other blond is used to. not that it's entirely a failure? it just needs some leg room. like a picture, just. maybe taken at the wrong angle.
he sidles in a way to lean more against the general, less relying on his arms to prop his position up. for all his impatience, Prompto's still a pretty gentle person, and he's just as such when he tries to move his arm so that the pose is way more natural, touching more of Prompto than treating him like a sack of potatoes.
start small. it's what he told himself when he started taking running as a hobby, back when he was a kid.]
Tell me, uh. Talk about something that makes you happy. People usually relax a bit when they do.
no subject
What made him happy...? Not much. Not much appropriate for this kind of setting, anyway. It takes him some time to think, working through it aloud.]
...birds. I couldn't find any, when I first arrived, which was unusual. Surely birds exist in any kind of world.
[Did they all die? Were they exterminated? Did they migrate? McGillis frowns, lost in his own train of thought.]
Turdus merula, Cyanocitta cristata, Zenaida macroura... all absent. No other animals, either, or plants that I could tell. Everything is dead or dying.
[Such a sad state of affairs. And he's not exactly happy, pretty far from relaxed, but keeping his brain active means he's distracted from other things, like tensing up or crushing his companion. His fingers are pliant, and touch softly to Prompto's arm, where they naturally fell. This was a dangerous man, but... it's harder to see that, talking about robins and doves.]
no subject
okay, that's... definitely better. it's a little surprising to Prompto, at least at some level, that he's talking in a way that doesn't lead to demands or implementations. there's a hint of sadness behind the diction here, and as he listens, he imagines an entire field of chocobos running in an empty field. he gets it. they're kind of beautiful- birds. they can go where they please. they're the owners of the skies, unburdened by conventions or barcodes or notions about what they need to do.
in any case, if it's not the intended effect he wanted to bring to the table, it provides a better, and less rigid option. a hulking, brooding, presumably much stronger man with someone relatively weak boned and fragile in his arms. it wouldn't be the first time that Prompto's been likened to a bird himself, but that's weird imagery to conjure up here.]
Back in my home world, we have these birds that are bigger than you can imagine. You can actually ride them. They're really... like. These gentle things, soft and warm, and so powerful. They're beautiful.
[as the grip around Prompto softens a little, he shifts an inch or two to pull out his camera, again, for the umpteenth time since they met, as he flips through with a single flick... 100's of photos back, to show him what a chocobo looks like as it rests happily at a post, nestled in on itself.]
See?
[he tilts the preview window up so the other can see it. they're definitely not extinct where he comes from. and as he shows him, he nestles his head closer up against him, his wild hair threatening against his jawline, if only to let him get a better view of what he was talking about.
almost cuddling.]
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) dat thirst, boi...
Of course, he isn't blind or deaf to what's going on, to what's happening. He's alert and attentive, as any man from his background would be, but he's shedding a few of those nastier layers. Not the physical kind, but the kind that seethed and glared and stopped short of calling Prompto a complete idiot. He's just doing as directed, for as long as it pleases him.
A very big lion, holding a tiny little bird. How appropriate.]
Ah, it seems happy.
[Happy, like Prompto told him to be. He can't, but this was a decent start, and it has him looking down to dryly note:]
It bears a striking resemblance to you.
what are you talking about this is a strictly ecological arrangement
the door's been slightly opened from the locked tight position that was McGillis just a few moments ago, and as he teases, Prompto sees a sliver of a sense of humor peaking out from behind the curtain. it wasn't the first time he was told that; and he's protested enough to it in the past, but it doesn't bother him as much as he lets on.]
I'll take that as a compliment.
[he smiles, arrogant in the way he eats the attention up.
he's not sure that there's a way to bring back birds and flora and fauna and the like just by getting intimate with people. that much just seems so far-fetched from reality that he'd have to see it to honestly believe it. but if there is a legit way to make it happen, he decides that he'd like to see it too. for this guy's sake, at least.]
It's the hair, right? [he smiles, and then, not-so-subtly puts himself out there. which is weird, because he's kind of awful at this sort of thing. with a little lull in his voice, in a tone just below challenging and a little above inviting he adds-] I don't usuuuually offer, but I've heard mine is just as soft. You can touch it if you want.
no subject
Being a creature that prided itself upon arrogance, he sniffs it out right away in others. It's a poor look for someone so clearly on the chipper end of the spectrum, and McGillis calls it out—although it's more akin to thinly veiled teasing. He's arrogant enough to get away with it.]
Fishing for praise, are we?
[McGillis rests his weight a bit more heavily upon Prompto. Although he took those lessons to heart; proper cuddling sequence has been engaged.]
That's a strange thing to ask on another man's lap. Perhaps you should try for the corner square, instead.
[Kissing? Oh, my. Fitting with the scandalous theme here.]
no subject
[which is absolutely true. leave that stuff to the crowned prince, codename: Mr. Gar. he knew his way around a rod or two, and a wealth of far more inappropriate sex pun fishuenndos, you know. as he's wont to do. there's a little lift to his voice, when he says it, enjoying the borderline-teasing that's going on. that sort of stuff puts him right in his comfort zone, a place where he falls back to often enough to hide a mass of other hiccups that imply his actual lack of self-faith.
but the most important thing to note here is that it feels like this is actually beginning to work- Prompto's a lot more comfortable, and he can't quite tell if McGillis is too, but the way he exerts more of himself on Prompto, the more he gets a positive reinforcement that they're heading in the right direction. actually, he might not be too bad at it, after all? he knows the general would never agree to it, but would it really be the worst thing in the world to fall asleep like this? in the arms of a kind of dreamy man?
gross.
here's the rub, though. and it's kind of awful, because Prompto thinks "corner square?" and kissing's not the one that comes directly to mind. mostly because, well, the other guy seems kind of unreachable and Prompto doesn't have the gusto to go for gold. instead, he blinks, opens his mouth, and then closes it. alright, dude. you asked for it.]
Uhm. Okay. We can try that. [shifting, a little, he brushes his fingers across McGillis' arm.] Y'know, I-I... I, uh. I've never really been with a guy before. This doesn't make me gay or anything, right?
[he's not very convincing.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)