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TDM #1

TEST DRIVE MEME

This Mess We're In The city sun sets over me...

You awaken slightly disoriented on a beautiful, smooth stone floor. A look around will tell you that this place is a hilltop temple with a good view of the beautiful city below. On opposite sides of the temple are genderless depictions of deities. One is clearly powerful, made of onyx, held up in an imposing stance with one hand holding a gilded flogger and the other outstretched with an open palm as if to enforce a command. The other, made of polished white marble, has taken a knee to the dominant statue across from them. One of their hands is a vase for fresh flowers and you can see that new ones have been placed there today.

The music of an unseen harp begins to play and a golden light permeates the temple. Suddenly, you know what is happening here. The duality that is worshipped here, the figures in the temple, they have a name. The onyx one is Ceannasach and the marble one is Cuiristeach and together with their combined power they are the ones who have brought you to Parthas.

What is Parthas? Parthas is paradise! You have either been brought here because Ceannasach believes you contribute to your world in some glorious way and deserve to be honored and served or because Cuiristeach believes that you would be excellent in a service role, perhaps they even feel sorry for the state of your life back home and want to show you something better.

The deities here also brought you because they need lik which is the energy that allows them to exist. Lik is created in small amounts when you interact with other people, in greater amounts when you grow fond of certain people, and in greater still amounts when you begin to use physical affection. However, when you orgasm, that creates the purest form of lik there is.

Ceannasach and Cuiristeach reward you in a special way. When you have sex with your soulmate or your hjarta, your vördr, or spirit, leaves your body in a time-frozen moment to commune with the deities and ask for something big or small that you might like. Sex carries on as usual and only you will know that you asked for something. If you ask to be sent home, the deities will send you into a hyperaroused state when you least expect it. Hey, you offended them.

The deities also believe you should know of something they have placed in Parthas for your benefit. There is a river in a valley in the middle of housing that will give and take anything you like from your body if you should so wish. This can mean a illness, sadness, a memory or anything else, but be careful because this river runs on fickle magic.

As the harp music continues, you become aware of a new power of yours. You can hear any thought that any other person sends your way, even the ones sent accidentally, and you can see images and moving pictures, as well. Don’t limit yourself to one person! Send that thought to everyone!

The harp music comes to an eventual end and you are left with the knowledge the deities gave you. Your intuition leads you down a southbound path towards a city where a celebration seems to be taking place, if the colorful banners are any indicator. Welcome to Parthas!

Dancing Barefoot She, intoxicated by Thee; She has the slow sensation that He is levitating with She

There is indeed a celebration going on in South City as this is the month of Feabhra. Where it was daylight when you left the Main Temple, now that you have reached the city the only lights are colorful paper lanterns strung up across smooth stone roads. The warmth of the daytime has cooled, so it might be smart to snuggle up with someone in one of the city’s various gazebos – each of them has a swing made for two (or three if you snuggle close enough.)

Harps, flutes, guitars and drums play lively music for everyone to dance to in the city square where garlands of brightly colored and white flowers hang for people to do with as they will. A stately woman dressed in black and wearing a brooch with the face of Ceannasach stands off to the side, her dark hair pulled back in a chignon. Whispers circulate, getting to you and informing you that this woman is E’ara Fraoch, owner of the most successful brothel in South City, and she is paying 50 gold pieces to the best dancers and 100 more if they will come work for her at Where The Wild Roses Grow, her establishment.

I Feel You I feel you, your precious soul, and I am whole

Food and drink is plentiful at this celebration and some of it is even free! The vendors believe that this is a good promotion for their stores during the rest of the year. They wheel their carts about, humming jaunty tunes and offering delicious things to you, the new arrivals, and everyone else in the city.
There is a man named Sam wheeling his cart of beverages and chocolate dipped waffles through town. If you catch him, he’ll probably suggest you order the alcoholic drink The Spirit of Feabhra. This drink does not come without side effects. It tastes like a fancy gin cocktail, sparkling and sweet with the flavor of berries and mint hitting your tongue, but the moment you get close to someone you actually have feelings for, you start to feel it… Them. Their thoughts, their emotions, their dreams… It’s as if they have melted into you.

Is This Desire? Is this desire; Enough, enough; To lift us higher; To lift above?

You have been told repeatedly throughout the night by smiling (creepy) faces not to wander out of the city limits into the wilderness, but now that you are here you just don’t get it. Lichens and fungi light up the night with a soft glow from the tree trunks, seemingly drawing you in.

In the forest, the music fades and the chittering of small animals creates a different tune. You don’t seem to be in danger. You might come across the healthiest, most beautiful apple tree you’ve ever seen. It is completely free of pests and only the dew clings to the apples’ shiny surface.

Should you pick one for yourself, you will feel a strange compulsion to bite it. Go on. Do it. If and when you have, you will find yourself incredibly aroused, but you won’t be able to bring yourself to orgasm – another must do it. If you didn’t bite the apple, maybe you gave it to someone else. In that case they will be unstoppably attracted to you with arousal to match. If you chose to plant it near your home, a tree like the one it came from will grow there and you will ICly receive a special reward.

Dead of Night When delirious fun; Has seriously begun; You'll be down on your knees; You'll be begging us please

Now you’ve done it. You’ve wandered into the woods without a spiritual guide from the temple. Now the vættir have been awoken and they are ready to fuck shit up… Sort of. Right now, these spirits kind of only want to ruin this party, but who knows what they’ll do later?

A low-lying cloud of black smoke crawls down the hills from the forest to the city until it covers the smooth stone roads and reaches up into everyone who is either of weak constitution or just simply tired and possesses them. It doesn’t take total control, but rather influences them, and causes them to destroy decorations, vendor carts, and do wild things they wouldn’t ordinarily do. Basically, these spirits want to cut through the façade and see you party like a rock star.

The only way to exorcise one of the vættir from a friend or loved one is to call on the deity of light – Cuiristeach. They accept demonstrations of service as the highest form of prayer, so get on your knees for your friend and get this done!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Holy shit."

It's the kind of gravity he reserves for things like purple aliens and talking raccoons, something like seeing someone snap their fingers and bring back half the world's population. It's pretty goddamn revolutionary, is what it is, and he has no idea why he didn't know about this or ever had it done to him before.

"Please, don't stop what you're doing."

Well. That worked. He looked like she'd suckerpunched him, but in a good way, and she pressed her tongue against him again, moving in enough that she could add in the pressure of the edge of her teeth. Still careful, but pressure, heat, and a little wet should make it something that had him either squirming or losing his shit. She'd be fine with either.

Oh, he's definitely losing his shit. Bucky grips the sheets harder because even if Jessica is as strong as him, he doesn't think ripping the hair off her scalp is going to be welcomed and he would like this to happen more than once. He shifts a little under her mouth.

"I'm going to fucking die," he murmurs. "Bury me under that tree in the woods that got me into this."

She draws her mouth off him entirely, just keeping a finger there and a little light pressure as she looks up at him. "That so? Should I just... stop what I'm doing? Go find a shovel? Maybe write an obituary?"

Bucky gives up on having his hands out of her hair and laces them through the dark locks before pushing on her head just a little. Not enough to be rude or to hurt but enough so she knows he really, really wants this.

"No, if you hurry the fuck up and get to it, I think I can survive it."

"I don't know. I don't have any prune juice here. Isn't that an old person thing?" But that tug and press is insistent and she knows what he wants. She gives that spot another sucking press, then uses her finger there as she grabs his shaft with her other hand and fits her mouth over his dick. A little bob to get him wet, and then she's sucking at him while using her other hand to press and circle that spot.

Bucky wants to quip something back at her about how her body is probably older than his, technically speaking, but he can't form the thoughts because she's sucking his dick and pressing at that place and he cups the back of her head to push her down a little.

He doesn't want to be an asshole about it but he is eager and that's all he wants to get across.

She can feel his hand at her head, fingers against her scalp, a pressure there to go deeper. She'd laugh if her mouth wasn't occupied, but she did bob deeper, sucked him further down and felt the ridge at the head of his cock that went around it with her tongue. She took him in as deep as she could, then came up to suck at the head, tasting herself and his past orgasm laced around him.

"Fuck. I'm not lasting long."

Bucky figures it's probably in his best interest to admit when he's lost and he can be a gracious loser about this, honestly. It isn't such a big deal because he's fairly sure he can give her as good as he gets even if he isn't finding any new and revolutionary erogenous zones.

He arches up against her mouth when she pulls away, tries to get more of her mouth back on him like before.

She's almost tempted to let him strain more, to make him work for it, but he'd admitted defeat and she could play nice.

For now. So she pressed more firmly at that spot while her other hand held his shaft to pump up along the length as she fixed her mouth over the head of him.

Bucky thinks he would have lasted much longer without her thumb pressing at that goddamn place but it is and he isn't. He doesn't bother trying to be polite and pull away so he doesn't come in her mouth because it seems like Jessica doesn't care about that and when he does come, he hisses a curse before he falls back to the bed.

"You win. Rights to call me an old man until I die."

It's only fair, after all.

"You say that like I wasn't going to do that anyway. Nope. I win bragging rights as being better at everything than you. And you're old." She was smirking as she moved back up to the spot on the bed she'd claimed as hers. Her bed. Her spot. Her... whatever he was. She'd figure that out later.

"I'll get you back for that. I'm good for it as long as you let me have a breather so I can be a pathetic old man and pretend to cuddle," Bucky teases back.

"Don't worry, I'm not catching feelings. Just like how you look, naturally. Means nothing."

"Old men cuddle? I thought they just sat on their porch, shaking their canes at clouds." She lay there beside him, half turned towards him and definitely not cuddling, but enjoying the warmth of his body next to hers.

"You're not getting shit back. I won and am the superior sex person. Clearly."

"I'll be sure to put it on your resume in case anyone asks about you. Jessica - Amazing at Sex. A+. Of course, I'm hoping I'll get another turn in case I accidentally eat some more fucked up fruit?"

No, he doesn't need the fruit for it but it's easier to make the joke about it and keep it light because he's enjoying this and how much has he enjoyed anything lately? Not much.

"Normally it just says "Jessica Jones, asshole." So, I guess that's a step up." She relaxed back on the bed, definitely not resting her head on his arm but totally doing that because it was there and shut up, Bucky.

"Hey, that's my title. Bucky Barnes - Asshole. I had it before you." Jessica is making herself comfortable and he's not going to mention it because it's nice to have her head resting against his arm and her body close.

"You have to get a new title."

"Yeah, but see... I'm actually an asshole. You're just a guy." She was grinning as she got comfy, looking around for a moment before finding the sheet and yanking it up over her. "You get a new title. Asshole is on all my business cards."

"Well, what do you suggest we put on my business cards then? Because I really have been Bucky Barnes - Asshole since 1917 so I don't know how to reinvent myself."

The idea of the Winter Soldier having business cards makes him laugh, though, because that would be a hell of a statement. HYDRA would never have gone for it, though.

"'Bucky Barnes, Guy with the weird first name and is kind of an old fart' has kind of a ring to it." She was grinning now, because making fun of people was, well, fun, and more so when he was going along with it.

"You know that's not my first name, right? I thought the Smithsonian had all that shit written down."

Bucky laughs at the whole thing, enjoying the fact that she knows who he is but doesn't care about it. He's like a guy who shares a mutual friend and not an international war criminal. It's very nice.

"My name is actually James."

"James Buchanan Barnes... what kind of name is Buchanan anyway, and why would you, as a grown man, go by Bucky? I hear that and I expect some kind of chipmunk mascot to come out- and I swear to god, if you ever wear a furry suit to try to fuck me, I'll... not fuck you."

She pointed her finger at him, because she meant business. Then she slumped back down. "Do you prefer being called James?"

"There were four kids named James in my class in 1927," Bucky says, rolling his eyes at her. "We had nicknames. It stuck forever. Doesn't help that my best friend loves to talk about me all the damn time."

When she asks if he would prefer to be called James, he considers it for a moment.

"Much rather you scream James than Bucky. I don't normally let people call me by it though, which means assholes I don't want using it use it. Like my therapist."

"God, therapists are the worst." They always made names sound like a censure. 'Jessica' had started to piss her off when it was said in a specific tone. But his comment had her biting at his shoulder. "Screaming your name, huh? You haven't gotten there yet."

A little flap of a red cape, a little challenge given.

"You haven't let me get my mouth on you," he tosses back. "So it's always been there as an option, Jessica."

Granted, they'd only been having sex for, well, today but he fully intends on getting to that before they're done for the night. He drifts his fingers through her hair.

"Just promise me you remember which name to scream."