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Due to a high volume of check-ins, temporary accommodations have been made in our new inn for all new arrivals. Wildcards are invited to enjoy rest and relaxation while getting to know their fellow inn patrons. Current guests are encouraged to make reservations at the inn for some self-care. Prices are discounted to celebrate the new year.
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▶ BLANKET CW: alcohol; BDSM; body modification; competition; costumes; dubcon; group sex; petplay; public sex; punishment; sex toys; stripping; supernatural; transformation
▶ All characters on the TDM are WILDCARDS, which means they have not yet been assigned a card value. Suits will not manifest until characters are accepted into the game.
▶ All TDMs are game canon. This TDM acts as the game's January event.
▶ Current characters may top level on the TDM. Any current characters posting to the TDM should note they are current in their subject header.
▶ The top level directory is for new characters only. We want to make sure new characters are prioritized and receive attention! If you would be interested in a game invitation, you can note that in your comment header. This month we also have an ongoing ATP / EMP where players can connect. Please feel free to utilize this for all of your peafowl needs!
▶ Smut threads that take place on this TDM can be used for rewards. If both parties in the smut thread join the game, you may retroactively apply the character's initial card values to your 52 bank. If one character does not join the game the thread will not be applicable toward rewards (as that character would not have a card value). The character that does join would still receive a small payout for the encounter. Hopefully it was a fun thread regardless!
▶ We ask you to kindly add content warnings to your threads as appropriate.
▶ If you do not currently have permissions and kinks listed in your character’s journal we suggest leaving a note in your top level of any limits or boundaries for other players to reference.
"I do care." He answers, deadpan. "I'm planning to fuck you, I figure it's good to know if anything's going to affect that."
He'd be hard-pressed to say he cares about anything going on with Sand past that. But he doesn't not care either. He's in that... nebulous stage, interesting enough that Dodger wants him to stick around but new enough that he's sure he'll move on if this date goes badly. Or if Sand doesn't end up sticking around to get a proper card rank.
"The equipment is in perfect working order," is his answer, because that's what Dodger is concerned with. "And my form is perfectly stable. You're not going to stick your junk in a sand dune. Promise."
It's an answer to the most basic concern. But he's just... incredibly bemused that Sand's story still leaves about forty years to never score. Dodger has been a sex addict for a little longer than his entire adult life, he just can't wrap his head around it.
"I was in an accident," he answers, eyes forward, "with an experimental weapon. It activated my meta gene. My form expanded and couldn't keep together and I looked like a monster even though I was still me. I didn't know how to communicate and everything hurt, but people don't assume giant sand monsters growling and smashing things are really teenage boys screaming in pain so they froze me and put me in the Velvet Cage."
Dodger's expression softens a bit. Yeah. He's never been in the situation himself, but he's seen things like it often enough.
"Your world doesn't have anything to force mutations back, huh."
He takes a long gulp from his bottle - drinking about a fourth of it at once, as if it's water.
"I've helped with clean-up on a few uh... similar situations. Usually the police come in and force a power suppression collar on the perpetrator. Not sure they'd be able to find your neck, though." Another, smaller sip. "My crew tries to get in before they do, figure something out that doesn't involve a paper trail. Anything to keep people off the mutant registry."
"There's no reversing it, no," he says with a soft huff. "Though he thought he had for a while. Wes. My mentor."
He glances over.
"Where I'm from, metahumans and the like aren't discriminated against but they are sometimes targeted by organizations that want to use the more powerful abilities for their own ends. The JSA's main mission is to give them family, elders to turn to, and to let those older members pass on what they know to the next generation."
Ah. Well, that's... more disappointing than he wants it to be. He'd sort of been hoping that this was leading toward a revelation that metahumans are also an oppressed class.
Granted, even Scott's version of their world isn't a bleak as Dodger's. He's very keenly aware of how much worse he has it than every other superhuman here.
"Sounds... aspirational."
Maybe best not to mention that the Atlas Corporation, the organization Dodger is attached to, is also very much seeking out powerful mutants for their own ends - good ends, as far as Dodger's concerned, but not quite as altruistic as what JSA seems to be doing. Best not to lie about it either, Sand seems too bright for his own good.
Dodger wavers a bit, very... aware, of the fact that he has nothing to contribute without giving something away. But maybe just going quiet is giving something away too. Hm.
He takes another drink.
"You'd think doing good work like that would get you laid at least once."
"I have work," he says with a shrug. "Some of it's in the day, some of it's at night." He keeps walking. "None of it's really 'mundane'. I'm not an accountant or a doctor or anything. But most of what I do isn't what you'd call 'hero' work anyway. I don't go after supervillains or masked criminals most of the time."
"Fair enough." He shrugs. "We don't really have traditional 'heroes' in my world. Power usage is pretty much criminalized, so... 'heroes' are criminals, just like- any other mutant."
Just like me. He knows better than to say that, but he's not a particularly good liar at the best of times.
"Vigilante work is actually criminalized, too. Sometime in the late 80's, the government rounded up all the old superheroes and either killed them or put them in jail for life. It's easier to just... hide your powers and keep your head down, than deal with the cops."
Whether Sand buys it or not is anyone's guess. He doesn't seem to indicate he picked up anything else.
"They tried something like that in the 50s, McCarthy and his lot." And Sand sounds similarly dismissive. "One of our members told him where to stuff it, but while it broke up the JSA, and a few people hung up their capes, most of them just kept working in their own way." Wry. "Vigilantism is always illegal. But not all of them have powers. My mentor, what abilities he had were just to tell him where to look. But he didn't have anything like you or I."
Dodger nods along - his knowledge of history largely begins and ends with music and vintage fashion, and he's never really been interested in politics past his current predicament (or what was current, before he came here, it's no longer really his problem). So he files this information away, but figures it won't be terribly important.
"Humans are scared of what they don't understand, in every reality." He shrugs. "But, we don't have to worry about that here. No one really cares if you use your powers here - some people think it's hot, actually. Not sure what you could do with sand, though."
Dodger's eyes light up at the sight of that lava. There's no hiding his reaction - his gaze is locked onto Sand's fingers, and he licks his lips without noticing himself doing so.
"Do you think you could burn me with that?"
There's a limit his own fire resistance, even if he's only met a few people here that can manage it and none at home. And with how many wires are crossed in Dodger's brain between pleasure and pain, he can't help wanting to seek out more of that feeling.
He looks down at the hand before looking over at Dodger for a long moment. He hasn't mentioned any kind of healing but Sand himself has such, so he's going to assume that the guy can handle it if he wants it. That he wouldn't ask for something that could seriously debilitate him.
Which is when he's going to hold a finger up, pulling one of the straps around to hold back his sleeve on the yukata, and then he's reaching forward with his palm covered entirely with glowing neon hot lava. And he'll close that on Dodger's wrist.
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"And you never fucked anyone that whole time? Are you impotent or what?"
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"Do you actually care or is it just something you want to know to use?"
There's no heat to the words. It's matter of fact.
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He'd be hard-pressed to say he cares about anything going on with Sand past that. But he doesn't not care either. He's in that... nebulous stage, interesting enough that Dodger wants him to stick around but new enough that he's sure he'll move on if this date goes badly. Or if Sand doesn't end up sticking around to get a proper card rank.
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There you go.
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It's an answer to the most basic concern. But he's just... incredibly bemused that Sand's story still leaves about forty years to never score. Dodger has been a sex addict for a little longer than his entire adult life, he just can't wrap his head around it.
"So how'd you end up in cryostasis?"
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"Your world doesn't have anything to force mutations back, huh."
He takes a long gulp from his bottle - drinking about a fourth of it at once, as if it's water.
"I've helped with clean-up on a few uh... similar situations. Usually the police come in and force a power suppression collar on the perpetrator. Not sure they'd be able to find your neck, though." Another, smaller sip. "My crew tries to get in before they do, figure something out that doesn't involve a paper trail. Anything to keep people off the mutant registry."
no subject
"There's no reversing it, no," he says with a soft huff. "Though he thought he had for a while. Wes. My mentor."
He glances over.
"Where I'm from, metahumans and the like aren't discriminated against but they are sometimes targeted by organizations that want to use the more powerful abilities for their own ends. The JSA's main mission is to give them family, elders to turn to, and to let those older members pass on what they know to the next generation."
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Granted, even Scott's version of their world isn't a bleak as Dodger's. He's very keenly aware of how much worse he has it than every other superhuman here.
"Sounds... aspirational."
Maybe best not to mention that the Atlas Corporation, the organization Dodger is attached to, is also very much seeking out powerful mutants for their own ends - good ends, as far as Dodger's concerned, but not quite as altruistic as what JSA seems to be doing. Best not to lie about it either, Sand seems too bright for his own good.
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A smaller laugh, but there's always a bit of a bitter edge these days. The raccoon eyes haven't gone away, after all.
"It is. It's a hell of a thing to live up to." He shrugs. "I do the best I can."
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He takes another drink.
"You'd think doing good work like that would get you laid at least once."
Yeah he's... still stuck on that.
"Do you have a day job or just hero work?"
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Just like me. He knows better than to say that, but he's not a particularly good liar at the best of times.
"Vigilante work is actually criminalized, too. Sometime in the late 80's, the government rounded up all the old superheroes and either killed them or put them in jail for life. It's easier to just... hide your powers and keep your head down, than deal with the cops."
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"They tried something like that in the 50s, McCarthy and his lot." And Sand sounds similarly dismissive. "One of our members told him where to stuff it, but while it broke up the JSA, and a few people hung up their capes, most of them just kept working in their own way." Wry. "Vigilantism is always illegal. But not all of them have powers. My mentor, what abilities he had were just to tell him where to look. But he didn't have anything like you or I."
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"Humans are scared of what they don't understand, in every reality." He shrugs. "But, we don't have to worry about that here. No one really cares if you use your powers here - some people think it's hot, actually. Not sure what you could do with sand, though."
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"Withstand your heat for one thing, hotshot," and he'll lift up his own fingers as they start melting not into granules but molten lava.
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"Do you think you could burn me with that?"
There's a limit his own fire resistance, even if he's only met a few people here that can manage it and none at home. And with how many wires are crossed in Dodger's brain between pleasure and pain, he can't help wanting to seek out more of that feeling.
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"That depends: ...how well would you handle the Earth's core?"
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"Better than a human." He answers after a pause. "It's hard to find heat I can actually feel. I mean properly feel, not just.. be aware of."
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"Well, that's as hot as I can go. So if you would get burned by that? I can burn you, simple enough."
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"Try it, then. Let's see."
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Which is when he's going to hold a finger up, pulling one of the straps around to hold back his sleeve on the yukata, and then he's reaching forward with his palm covered entirely with glowing neon hot lava. And he'll close that on Dodger's wrist.