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rubilykskoye mods ([personal profile] rubimods) wrote in [community profile] rubimemes2023-07-14 12:57 am
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TEST DRIVE MEME 002

⚰︎ ⍢ ⌲ ⍚ TEST DRIVE MEME:
Welcome to RUBILYKSKOYE — a dark, horror-smut game where player choices will drive a mod-run storyline about the world and its NPCs. This test drive meme provides a medley of prompts evoking the game's general tone.

THESE THREADS CAN BE GAME CANON if both players are accepted into the game and agree to it. However, if players who'd prefer to start fresh are welcome to reuse these prompts in their own personal logs upon acceptance into the communities. Note: the universal test drive arrival prompt will not be repeated on the coming event log, but players are welcome to reuse the prompt.

CONTENT WARNINGS for this game include: monsters, body horror, dub-con, non-con, religion, blood/violence, and marking/branding, loss of autonomy/self, and mental influences. This log additionally has warnings for: nudity, spiders, character death, and references to children in proximity to sexual situations.

If you have QUESTIONS about the test drive prompts, please ask HERE. Questions about the game itself or the general setting should be directed to the FAQ.

FAQSETTINGCALENDARRESERVESAPPLICATIONS

IN THE WOODS SOMEWHERE

The chirping of partridges in the treetops rouses you. Light barely filters through the canopy, just enough to suggest daylight. By the time it reaches the forest floor, the light has taken on a sickly green. You lie amongst the frost-covered mosses and ferns, the frozen soil cold and just a little damp on your bare skin.

Wherever you were before this moment, whatever you were doing or wearing, when you awaken in this forest, you find yourself naked and helpless as the day you were born. As you sit up and get your bearings, aside from a brief wave of disoriented nausea, you seem to be no worse for wear than you last remember.

You seem to be alone. The gnarled oaks and moss suggest no sign of civilization or sentient life. Just flickers of movement from curious squirrels or brave lizards emerging from a temporary retreat from the wintry weather. With your feet under you, and you'll find the wood is filled with berry bushes and nut trees, though much of the fruit has been picked clean. The freshwater stream that runs north-south, populated by both poisonous toads and delicious crawdads, is running actively again as the weather warms back up from the recent snowstorm.

As you explore, you may run into others with stories just like yours. Some may have already formed clumsy nudist groups, others may still be processing their confusion, with no memory of how they got here. Now is a good time to overcome any hang-ups you have about modesty; it's going to be a long hike, and the weather isn't quite amenable to your lack of.

Turn your back to the darker, shadowy parts of the forest and eventually the glow of manmade lights and the curve of a dirt road may come into view. At the edge of the wood, you'll find a town surrounded by a fifty-foot wall of beige stone. The only entrance is an iron gate positioned on the southern edge. When you arrive, the gate is already open, welcoming people inside.

This quaint, historic town of five-thousand has cobbled street and signs lit by gas lamp. Wooden shutters protect otherwise open-air windows on the buildings, which are all under three stories with gabled roofs. A number of businesses hug the main street — a clockmaker, a cobbler, a grocer — while residential homes sprawl outwards towards the wall. At the far end of the main street, visible about a mile to the north now that the trees and the enormous wall is out of the way, sits a castle with three towers.

When you enter, the streets are full of people, but despite any efforts on your part to hide or make excuses, they don't seem offended by your nakedness. Even families with children don't gawk or look twice. Those determined to find proper clothing regardless will find that modern clothing stores aren't available — the closest this town has is a tailor's shop and a stand in the central marketplace selling scarves and blankets.

breaking and entering
If you intend to have your character break into someone's house or yard to steal some of their clean laundry, please review the info about game laws on the FAQ and give the mods a heads up HERE.



Fortunately, the people of the town are very generous! Anyone who ask the locals will be directed to the boarding house for both clothes and a place to stay. Accessible through an embellished iron garden gate and obscured by hanging plants, trees, and vines, beyond an overgrown yard in the residential sprawl of the town is a bright-red door, which opens to a spacious cottage of several stories. Parts of the house still bear the dust of disuse, gathered on various furnishings — bedding, sofas, curtains, wooden tables. However, it's already full of people! Anyone who's already appeared in the village just as you did today lives here. Once inside, you may notice patchwork repairs have been made, and some scorch marks still linger from a recent fire, and some furniture is still lying around in splinters.

Tonight, a few of the townspeople will help out with the new arrivals. They stock the kitchen and prepare a communal dinner of parsnips, pheasant, and squash. During dinner, they (and those outsiders who've already begun to settle) sit down at the enormous wooden dining room table and help orient the newcomers and answer their questions.

finding roommates
Don't spend too much time in the dining room going for seconds, though. You'll want to claim a bedroom quickly because each one only has two full-size beds, and there aren't enough spaces for everyone. The last people upstairs will need to double up to squeeze in. Roommates will not be mod-assigned; players should coordinate directly with one another to determine their living arrangements.


Get a good night's rest. By the light of day, locals will help get the new arrivals set up on the coal stove with breakfast. You may notice they're dressed in a way you would almost call normal — at least, in a manner befitting 19th century Eastern Europe. As you find your way around town to get your bearings, folks are eager to help you find a place to apply your skills so you can contribute to your new home.


writer's block?
If you're struggling to pick a way to engage the prompts, try: naked hiking, acquiring clothing or other inventory items, asking questions at dinner/orientation, or staking your claim on a bedroom!



OFFERINGS FOR ULANTI

The festival starts in the middle of the night, when the sun and the children are safely tucked into bed. The streets come alive with dancing locals, their faces painted red and purple and black and yellow. They all wear revealing clothing that, to your sensibilities, may seem sexually suggestive. Some individuals openly expose their breasts and nipples, while some others may incidentally reveal when they turn around to tend to their errands that their dress is backless — entirely! market stands and kind neighbors will gladly provide clothing befitting the occasion to anyone who asks.

Notably, the locals' choice of clothes reveal a mark on their bodies. An astute person will notice that there are four varieties — and a very astute (thirsty) person might notice that their fellow woodsfolk also have one of these somewhere on their body.

In addition to dancing and the lighting of any number of candles, you may stumble upon fighting rings inspired by Terry Silver's basement club, where the locals brawl until they're bloody and unable to move. Elsewhere, amongst the performance of a number of erotic dancers, you might come upon a face you recognize — naked and collared and caged, tongue pressed to the bars to taste anyone who'll stop and give them a little attention.

Temporary night market food stands offer various forms of alcoholic beverages and sweet and savory street food in suggestive shapes — sausages, popsicles, flowering cupcakes. many of them represent hedonistic indulgences and displays of wealth that the town usually does not seem to possess. This bounty, they attribute to the Duchess' patronage — and much of it is dosed with herbs and additives that enhance the sexual appetites and aggression in any who consume them.

Another kind of temporary stand has been erected — while new arrivals may at first mistake these for some kind of bathroom, it becomes apparent upon entry that they are partitioned stalls with gloryholes drilled between them. Some stalls are closed with an anonymous stranger waiting inside for someone to push a part of themselves through the hole to be lavished with mystery touches; others are fully unoccupied, should your character wish to lock themselves in and wait on the small wooden stool for a partner to offer themselves.

Anyone native to Rubilykskoye will take the time to answer questions about the festival of Ulanti, which functions as a way to purge their bad energy ("zadza") and sate their inner beasts ("duchozweirz"). They encourage characters to join the festivities — which range from staged sexual performances to sadism and masochism designed to feed the desire for violence. all appetites are welcome here, and there are only two rules: (1) stay away from the unmarked, which refers to the locals' prepubescent children; (2) hold nothing back.

writer's block?
If you're struggling to pick a way to engage the prompts, try entering the fighting rings, watching or joining a live sex performance, or eating some aphro food (deliberately or otherwise)!


the fathomless dark of pajak wood

At the outer edges of the forest, shadows grow long and the air grows thick. Though the sun never grows warm red-gold with sunset, the wood darkens. Birdsong is replaced by the click of mandibles and the skitter of many legs. Anyone who ventures out this way will soon find it difficult to see before them, even in the middle of the day — eventually, even the brightest magical light source or darkvision cannot stretch further than a few inches.

In the void, the air feels heavy, as if it were not air at all but some more solid mass. Almost like liquid-smoke, it presses down upon you. Slowing your movements. Characters who push too far into the void may stop being able to move at all, and find themselves given over to insanity if they collapse, unable to draw themselves out. This is just one of many dangers.

Monsters thrive this far out. Huge, blood-red spiders the size of hunting dogs drop from the treetops. In addition to their venomous bite, which contains a fast-acting paralytic, these creatures are clever: they attempt to use their webbing to entangle any trespassers, binding limbs together or to trees. If you're unfortunate to become fully cocooned, you don't have long before this forest will be the last thing you see.

In addition to the spiders, you may come across the sharp-toothed furred yetis that emerged during the snowstorm, still looking for a meal. Each one hunts alone, a fifteen-foot-tall shambling creature that drips black ooze and super-chills the air around it until your skin feels tight and icy. If it gets the drop on you, you're likely to be its dinner. It has emerged from a long summer hibernation to enjoy the colder weather, and it's starving.

Those who seem lucky enough not to run afoul of the monsters here are in for a worse fate. The void can play tricks on your senses. As madness sets in and you lose all sense of direction, you may also lose control of your body — what is that steers your hands to turn against your friends? Why does it sound like your own voice whispering?

In the fog, you may also hear the voices of those familiar to you — people you know from the town, or people whom you know with almost perfect certainty aren't here. these figments may recreate unhappy memories or force trespassers to hallucinate their worst nightmares. Nothing is as it seems in the void, and when you swing at these figments, desperate to silence them, it might not be a figment at all, but a friend in the flesh trying to help you. By the time you see their true face, it could be too late to stop yourself.

writer's block?
If you're struggling to pick a way to engage the prompts, try fighting a monster, hallucinating your worst nightmares, and/or attacking a friend or stranger!


HIDING INSIDE EACH OF US

Uh oh spaghetti-os.

The marks worn by all residents of Rubilykskoye aren't just cool body art, as it turns out. The town is full of rumors, whispered in shadows and over candles of a starving creature hiding in the dark corners of your chest. Feed your inner beast, they say, before it finds a way to feed itself.


Alas, its emergence is inevitable — sooner or later, the horrible things that happen here pile up and make someone repulsed by the idea of human contact. Someone holds themselves back, bites their tongue, or simply does not believe the stories. Today, for one reason or another, that creature is coming out. Someone hasn't been keeping it sated.

Symptoms escalate over weeks, from monstrous irritability to full-blown body horror transformation, where people physically shed their human forms and evolve into the monsters this place made them. Once a person becomes something more (or less) than human there's only one way to go back — sate the beast.

someone else transforms
The baker, Nile Yoren, is a likable, middle-aged woman who can fill any request — wheat, rye, even nut breads. She boasts that her sourdough starter belonged to her grandmother. Today, when you enter her shop — to help out or to get a muffin or a bag of rolls — something is off. Her smiling face isn't behind the counter.

Around the back wall, you hear the crackling of the oven. But when you call, she doesn't come out. You have to go back and look for her. What you find is not just the oven crackling, but nile herself — twisted into an incandescent monster of human flame, the flickers of dark orange light like a face howling in agony amidst the yellows and reds and whites. Before you can scramble away, the creature lunges at you. Defend yourself or flee, or her inner beast will be feeding itself on you.

(There are other monsters lurking in every townsperson — feel free to invent your own npc monsters and scenarios!)


you waited too long
At first, as you hide yourself from your darker impulses, a subtle itch develops under your skin. An irritability that makes you snap at the person who bumps into you on the stairs because all those fleeting emotions that you've been repressing bubble to the surface. Every dark thought you've had about being here, all the fears of never getting home, of being surrounded by ticking time bombs, the anxiety of wondering who you might hurt or what relationships you might betray by doing what you have to do. The anger. Oh, the anger.

Maybe you shut yourself in your room or run into the woods to hide away, but there's only so much you can do to deny the itch that grows into hunger like a spark catching and growing to wildfire. Someone comes to check on you. That knock on the door or crunch of leaves in the wood that fills you with dread at what you might do and hope that you will be sated.

As claws and fangs and scales and spines and fur grow and your body transforms with a sickening crunch of bones and peeling of skin, so do your appetites. If you won't sate them, you'll lose yourself to your beastly impulses sooner or later, mauling friends and taking your fill. Is it better or worse if only your claws get inside of them?
hiyakai: (pic#15654180)

[personal profile] hiyakai 2023-07-14 12:52 am (UTC)(link)
just a quick q for kai here, but would he be able to compel a townsperson to give him their clothes? and what consequences would there be if he decides to have a lil vampiric snack?

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guylining: (Default)

Looking for an invite!

[personal profile] guylining 2023-07-13 11:38 pm (UTC)(link)
Hi! I'm Kerry, or [plurk.com profile] halfbloodly on Plurk. I'm just coming back to rp after a hiatus.

I'm looking to bring this OC witch to the game, and would really appreciate an invite if anyone is willing to provide!

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Available Invite

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guylining: ((older) b e a u t i f u l)

Nate Hawthorne | OC | diabel

[personal profile] guylining 2023-07-13 11:35 pm (UTC)(link)
1. ARRIVAL IN TOWN

[ He has no idea how long he was in that fucking forest. It doesn't really matter. He's just glad to see some form of civilisation, even if it's nowhere he recognises. Nate has long past any worries about modesty by the time he arrives, because frankly he can't remember the last time he did that much cardio. He walks through the streets, dirty and tired and generally done with this whole experience. He stops short when he sees the castle in the distance, and looks up at it, lips gently parting. ]

Oh, brilliant. So we're in fucking Narnia, now. Where's-- sorry, has this place got a name?

[ His gaze shifts between the people walking around him. From the look of the town he was expecting something like a Renaissance Faire, but it's far weirder than that.

He'll have time to take this all in later. For now, he just has to survive it.
]

2. DINNER

[ There's a bed now, and there's food in front of him. The clothes were...well, there's clothes, or something like it. All of his jewellery is gone, including all his piercings. His tattoos are all thankfully still there, decorating both arms and much of his chest and neck. There's a new one beneath his left ear, which he doesn't yet know about.

He's sitting at the table for now, appearing to be wearing a faded Guns 'n' Roses t-shirt and a pair of ripped black jeans. He picks at the food in his bowl, not wanting to be rude to the very friendly townspeople, but he's also just. Not here for this at all.
]

So, okay. Is there a Supreme or anything here? Like a local sorcerer, magical mogul, witch of the woods or something, that I could talk to?

3. THE VOID

[ Yeah, he can't stay here. He can't. The more time goes on, the more his insides start to itch. The town is quaint, welcoming. Pretty overtly lustful, and he's not convinced that this isn't some hell dimension, for the record. The longer here's here, in fact, the more likely it seems. And he can't, he just can't do it.

So he goes off into the forest. He tries to get out, and sure there's evil spiders here, that makes sense. He can defend himself. At first he does well, using magic to hide himself or ward them away, and burning or freezing the ones that come too close. It's manageable.

But then there's the creeping, oppressive darkness. It's slow at first. But then it's creeping on him. Crawling over his skin, making it hard to breathe, hard to see-

Something in Nate just snaps. Some fine tendril, some thread of sanity. His heart races, his throat closes, he can't breathe. He falls back away from it, screaming and not realising that the noise is coming from him. His hands are clawing at his own skin.
]

Let me go, let me go, get it off, get away from me!! Get away from me!

[ The void fades as he moves back from it, but he has little awareness of that now. He can still feel it on his skin. He doesn't know where he is.

He doesn't know that the spiders are coming upon him in numbers now. He doesn't realise exactly how much trouble he's in.

But he's still screaming.
]

Help me, please, get it off!!!


ooc: Nate is an OC witch! There's more info in his journal. I'm open to wildcard if nothing here pings you! He'll be around the festival trying to avoid lecherous locals, or I'm up for a wandering naked wilderness thread. If you'd like to plot something I'm on plurk at [plurk.com profile] halfbloodly.
blueshit: (inkonic buttercup jesse (70))

Dinner

[personal profile] blueshit 2023-07-15 12:32 am (UTC)(link)
There's...a duchess, I think?

[ Jesse's not entirely sure. He'd never bothered to try to seek out any kind of authority figure here himself. Not like anyone in charge of anything had ever listened to anything he had to say before.

But he'd been drawn to the guy immediately when he'd spotted him across the room, which is why he'd slid into the seat across from him with his own tray. Jesse's a few years older, with scars on his face that make him look older still. He doesn't have any piercings, but he does have a stylized scorpion tattoo on his right arm, the beginnings of a sleeve he'd never gotten around to finishing. More than anyone else around here, Nate looks like someone he might've hung out with, back in the day. ]


I dunno if anyone's ever seen her, though. She lives up in the castle. [ He squints at Nate. ] And I don't think she's like, magic.

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heavenchained: (037)

Toji Fushiguro | Jujustu Kaisen | Diabel.

[personal profile] heavenchained 2023-07-14 12:09 am (UTC)(link)

OFFERINGS.

CW: violence, blood
( Toji is notorious where he comes from; feared, a folk legend among the sorcerers in Japan. He doesn't expect anyone to know him here, of course, but if he has to stay here at all, he's going to make his mark.

He fights well. Too well, even, laughing as he goes around beating this guy to a pulp. He puts up a good fight, but Toji ultimately wins. Flicks the blood off of his bare knuckles.
)

I get some kinda prize for a beatdown that good, right?


OFFERINGS, pt.ii.

CW: NSFW, aphrodisiacs
( Toji isn't affected by alcohol at all where he comes from. Why would it here? No point. No one drinks for the taste of it.

But when they mark some food and drink as aphrodisiacs, he has to wonder if those will have an effect. So he drinks a steinful.

And in short order, it works.

Shit.

Watching those live performances isn't helping much either, but he only realizes this before its far too late. He moves away from all that, stumbling off in a way he hasn't before. Stumbling isn't like him. Inebriation is new.

Help.
)
banshiii: (pic#16416314)

part ii

[personal profile] banshiii 2023-07-14 01:37 am (UTC)(link)
[ Is this man okay? He looks like he has rabies. Just a bit.

Takakage only follows because he'd been bumped into, but now he isn't so certain whether or not he should tell the poor bastard off.
]

Don't debase yourself any further. It's unsightly.

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erosive: (pic#16586788)

zoya nazyalensky | grishaverse | skala

[personal profile] erosive 2023-07-14 12:45 am (UTC)(link)
1. INTO THE WOODS.
cw: nudity

First thing first: she zaps one of the poisonous toads away.

On her knees in the dirt, Zoya takes her time wetting her hands and her face, scrubbing what she can of the dirt away from her face, shoulders and arms. Waking naked in the woods is disturbing, but not recognising the woods prompts her gut to twist uncomfortably in on itself. This is how she intends to orient herself: by creating a tiny storm using the freshwater stream.

The water rushes by her until she stops it, swirling it into a small vortex no bigger than the length of her forearm. So the water feels right, just as the air does. When she spots a crawdad in the water, it's easy to scoop it out and fry it with a zap of lightning. She hadn't realised how hungry she was until now.

At the sound of footsteps, she glances over her shoulder. "Hungry?"

She'll get to the town soon. Zoya needs a moment to feel like she's in control. Let the elements tell her where she is. Juris would laugh at her for sitting naked by a freshwater stream, waiting for some sign when she had been nothing but impatient with him during his teachings. Some dragons learn faster; some take their time. In Zoya's case, she needed to wake up naked for her need always to be stubborn to wilt slightly.


2. IN TOWN.
Dressed in a dark blue tunic (it's a little oversized, but she makes it work) and slacks that feel a little too tight, Zoya wanders through the town until she finds the boarding house. Her face is cleaned, her dark hair a mess against her back, and her nerves are ready to fry like lightning. Nothing about this town looks familiar.

If she's not in the common room peering around to try and gain her bearings, she's in the kitchen, perusing the cupboards. Opening and closing, sometimes slamming them by accident.

She brushes her fingers against the scorch marks on the wall. It doesn't feel like dragon fire. A strange thought to have, but Zoya supposes Juris had spent centuries understanding the shapes of fire, especially as a creator of it. "What happened here?"

Exploring the boarding house further, Zoya ventures into a couple of the open rooms. She might be looking through someone's closet or drawers when they come in.


3. OFFERINGS.
cw: aphrodisiacs in the food prompt

Still dressed in blue (although she's opted for a very plunging neckline in order to fit in and put the townspeople at ease with any of her questions—it's advice she can hear Genya give her Fit in, try not to stand out, and be yourself even though it feels utterly wrong), Zoya surveys the festival as she takes in the curious and questionable sights and states of undress.

She reminds herself that she is a soldier. She's not a spy like Nina. She doesn't possess her panache for characters and blending in. She's not Nikolai Lantsov, either, capable of blending in and being one with strangers like they've been friends for years. But she's Zoya Nazyalensky, and she can do this in the absence of her dear friends.

She wanders toward the glory holes, although she doesn't venture in, not wishing to trap herself in a small space with strangers while still trying to right herself in this strange little town. She's curious, but she stays on task. She wants information, a map, and a way back to Ravka.

Guided by the grumbling of her stomach, she ignores the fact that half the food looks like genitalia. After she's bit into her second cupcake, she shrugs. "This tastes nice despite what it looks like." Although she remains tense, Zoya relaxes somewhat. The townspeople are enjoying themselves. It reminds her a lot of Ravka during the good days, before Fjerda had waged its war and turned pockets of her home into craters. She can't help but smile, liking the energy, feeling drawn to it as she has the very heart of the world.


MISC.
We're actually apping this time! Zoya is from the end of Rule of Wolves and won't be divulging anything to or about canonmates.

Her hook is: A witch who happens to be a general who happens to be a dragon who also happens to be a ruler of her country, likes blue, summons storms (for characters who can pick up on power, hers crackles like lightning), and gives off powerful energy. Zoya also has big dick energy and is pretty hot. (She's also pretty direct and not a people person.)

Feel free to prose or action spam me and pm me if you have any qs. c:
pigeonblood: so i cAN'T stop (i'm driven by spite)

in town

[personal profile] pigeonblood 2023-07-14 05:05 am (UTC)(link)
Genya spends very little of her time at the boardinghouse. Sightings of her are often in transit, ever on her way to or from somewhere, excepting the appearance she puts in at the dinner table at least once a week. The common room she only graces at hours she's learned are quiet. Little competition for or company on the seat in front of the fireplace. Silence pairs well with a book or a quilt.

The latter is what she has folded in her arms on this deepening night, a bag stuffed with fabric slung over her shoulder and resting on her hip. Genya enters and casts about the common area, her gaze landing first on Zoya's back. She needs nothing but the scantest sliver of her face to know it's her; it strikes her before she has a chance to tune into her heartbeat.

"Zoya," she announces herself, evenly. Surprise, carefully pressed out of her tone, persists nonetheless in rooting her to the spot.

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extent: (ty201)

nicholas ó broin | original

[personal profile] extent 2023-07-14 01:37 am (UTC)(link)
cw: references to past/potential future drug use

AWAKENING.


[ embarrassingly, this isn't the first time that nick has woken up in the woods, naked and nauseous. he's just pretty sure that he's not hungover this time, which makes the whole thing a little more confusing. he blinks a few times, soaks up the drops of power that he can leech from what is clearly an unfamiliar earth, and finally, slowly sits up.

it's not the right earth. this is not the right place, but nick has always been shoddy at best with scrying, and he's even worse at portalling, so for now he's resigned to sitting in the dirt and trying to figure out how exactly he's gotten himself into this mess. he doesn't remember much of anything from the night before--nothing important anyway, just the usual. falling asleep on the couch with a joint tucked between his lips is par for the course with nick, but his wards should have been strong enough to prevent anything too untoward happening in the apartment while he was asleep.

but he's here, so something must have happened.

by the time he feels up to walking he's starting to get a bit more warmth to him. it's not his earth but he's still surrounded by nature, the trees around him and the dirt under his feet. he's actually smiling by the time he runs into another person, on the way to the road and the far off town. it's not ideal being naked, sure, but nick doesn't let that stop him from an amused grin and a wave. he has, apparently, already decided that anyone he runs into is friendly. ]


Could've at least left pants, right? Or shoes. My feet are killing me.

OFFERINGS.


[ when it comes to the festival, nick ends up taking the approach of "this might as well happen" - when dropped into a strange land with an earth that clearly isn't his own and all manner of weird goings on, why wouldn't he join in on the festivities.

it's not like he could ever resist a party, really.

he's happy enough to paint his face, cheeks streaked with colour as he scouts the area for something to hold his interest. a drink maybe, or something stronger, but he settles for dancing in the end. he looks delighted even without a kick of something to keep him sated - nick has always been good at compartmentalising, and right now he's not worried about the weird world. he's worried about tossing his head back in laughter and draping his arms around the shoulders of anyone amenable to pull them in close.

later his interests start to wander though, and it's not long before he's looking around to find someone that looks at least a little more knowledgeable than himself. not hard, really. nick is quick to drop his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, cheeky smirk on his face as he leans in. ]


Any idea where a guy might go to find something with a little more kick to it?

WILDCARD.


[[ want something else? got a fun lil scene starter in mind somewhere else, feel like vibing a misc network prompt, or want something special? drop me a surprise or hmu on plurk @ sharknado with questions/queries et al. i'm vaguely leaning towards diabel vibes atm but we'll see where i end up leaning! for the curious there is a whole buncha info on nick here! ]]
bloomandwither: Art by Unistonen (6)

Offerings

[personal profile] bloomandwither 2023-07-14 03:40 am (UTC)(link)
[Ankari knows absolutely nothing more than Nick could, as a fellow new arrival. The relaxed ease at which the elf is stood leaned against a tavern bar might project some false self assurance, might lure in the younger man towards him. Mostly supported by an elbow down onto the bar top, Ankari sways only slightly when the other man slips in close to hang upon him and inquire, coyly, about a stronger drink.

Given Ankari seems to have quite the collection of drained glassware in front of him, a whimsically princely tone answers Nick's question with some authority behind it,]


My advice would be to simply drink a lot, sire.

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bloomandwither: Art by Pine (1)

Ankari | OC | ⍚ NIEZ

[personal profile] bloomandwither 2023-07-14 02:20 am (UTC)(link)
i. Arrival Basic OC information here!

[One moment, Ankari is preparing for his own wedding. The next moment, he's laid out naked in the damp woods. He spends a long time just laying there, considering what might have happened. He died, maybe, a worg soldier must have marched in and snapped his neck. Was so quick the elven prince did not even process his own violent end.

Why does he feel so alive? Alive in all the painful ways he's used to, too. Peeling himself from the moss and mud, he rubs his knee and hip, feeling the usual stiffness in both. If this is death, can he really never be free of such feeble joinery holding him together? What a cruel joke that is.

Mustering his bloom, the form Ankari takes to make himself vibrant and beautiful as any would imagine of an elf, he gets to his feet. His body works better in bloom, gives him an acrobat's fitness despite a weak hip and a bum knee. At least his right eye can see when he's not withered. How much that will help him navigate an unfamiliar forest is yet unknown.

He'll wander until he finds running water to clean off in. If any have a fantasy in mind where they stumble upon a tall, elegant, bathing elf then this is their chance. Approach too abruptly and he might scatter like a frightful deer, though.]


ii. Outside of town...

Pss pss pss. [A noise calls out from the forest as if calling a cat over to be pet.]

Might you assist me, please? [Ankari is half ducked behind a tree. He's not the most bashfully ashamed person, but walking into a town buck naked is just... so gauche. Royal upbringing raised him with the sensibilities to not do so carelessly. He leans out his torso with a short wave and a charming enough smile] I could really use something to cover up with, if you have anything to spare.

iii. Offerings

[After arriving, finding clothing, and making his way to town... Ankari is tired beyond belief. He keeps his bloom up in public, knowing it might be unwise to show weakness and frailty to so many unfamiliar sorts of people. The hedonism of the festivities don't phase him so much as give him a long pause. Hm. So that is how it is here...

He can do something else that might be unwise.]


Something tall and stiff... and very alcoholic, sire. [the bartender chuckles at the breezy innuendo Ankari tosses his way, before pouring out something matching the description. Ankari gives the cocktail an appraising sniff and then a swig of a taste, wincing at the sharp burn of it, then tapping the counter again]

If I could please, another of these. Thank you. [whoever might be around will see Ankari down a very long drink in a total of four consecutive gulps before delicately setting the empty glass back to receive another.

This lost prince is hoping to get out of his right mind and feel some peace this evening.]
moondregs: (to cheat ourselves at solitaire)

ii

[personal profile] moondregs 2023-07-14 04:04 am (UTC)(link)
[ Junpei is wandering near the woods, brow furrowed and deep in thought. There’s a sense of dread as he hears a voice beckon him - what now? Was even an hour of normalcy too much to ask for here?

He looks around, trying to determine if the strange tree man is possibly talking to someone else. Once his fear is confirmed that he is the only possible target, he turns to Ankari with an unimpressed look. ]


I had a hard enough time finding my own clothes that cover up more than a napkin … and why are you calling me like I’m a cat?

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boneblood: (314)

wesley price | original

[personal profile] boneblood 2023-07-14 02:28 am (UTC)(link)
A: IN THE WOODS SOMEWHERE | ARRIVAL
[So, the naked in the woods theme isn't exceptionally new to him - who hasn't bathed in a stream or two, right? But it's disorienting when you don't know how you got there and you feel queasy almost immediately. Wesley sits for a long moment, arms looped around his knees, and doesn't get up until he's sure he's not going to vomit into the nearby greenery.

He braces himself with a hand on a tree trunk once upright, and begins to wander through the woods that aren't any that he thinks he's known. Nothing so much as a path leads him easily, but rustling nearby causes him to stop with caution in his stride. He listens, ears ringing with silence between muffled noise and his gaze skirts around for anything to use defensively. He's got a rock concealed in the palm of his hand, and thumbs it over while waiting for a response to:]


Who's there?
B: IN THE WOODS SOMEWHERE | SLEEPING ARRANGEMENTS
[Wesley's quiet and observant, but his habit of being able to blend into the background doesn't quite work in his favor here as people bustle upstairs to find beds for the night. He isn't the last, but the spaces are getting claimed in a flurry of activity and he knows he has to act quick if he wants a bed at all.

It's still so new to him, being around this many people. It's kind of overwhelming so when he ducks into a room at random, finding it with only one other person in it at present - he feels a swell of relief. He stands in the open V of light from the door, and tilts his head to the side before asking:]


That other bed taken yet? Please say no.
C: OFFERINGS FOR ULANTI
["Zadza", they called it. Bad energy. Something that sounded new to him at first, before he remembered reading books about something similar in the past - how remedies of bloodletting were back home a cure, where as here there seem to be other outlets. He observes what he sees without any embarrassment, the only awkwardness coming from him being if and when someone interacts with him - he seems unused to it, but eager to talk and engage with people after that first stumbling block. It's like he hasn't really been able to talk to people (because he hasn't,) in the past and all of this is shiny and new.

And overtly sexual but. C'est la vie.

He's never watched other people fuck before. And it doesn't feel like there's any expectation for modesty here, as many others are watching the same display of two people going at it on all fours on the stage before them. The crowd circles around it, hands either on others or themselves, and Wes' eyes are mostly on the figures all the way through the throes of it before he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, dealing with rising arousal. He looks down at himself, fingers lightly grazing over the bulge at the front of his trousers, before he looks back up to the stage. And then, after a moment, discreetly to the side to see who is closest to him. And where their eyes happen to be.]
NOTES
[Feel free to throw a wildcard as well if you'd like, Wesley's still a bit WIP when it comes to some minor details but any help fleshing him out here is greatly appreciated ♥ The tl;dr is that he's a dark magic creation meant to be a copy of someone specific, but grew his own personality and thus was rejected and abandoned by his creator. That's then given him #trustissues and a bitter outlook on life as he now tries to build something for himself from nothing. Reach me at [plurk.com profile] witchpunk if need be! Pls don't judge me if his icons change 3 more times either btw, i'm s t r u g g l i n g]
guylining: ((older) a t t e n t i v e)

A

[personal profile] guylining 2023-07-14 03:01 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Nate is in a bad mood.

This isn't his first time waking up in a strange new world. Arguably it's more confusing than last time. At least then there was someone to explain it to him.

Also he wasn't naked. And there wasn't a hike involved. He isn't really aware that he's close to someone else before he hears the voice, and then he freezes. Eyes narrowing, he moves closer. Flickers of electricity light up over his hands, ready to defend him in case-

Oh. He comes through the trees, and his shoulders sink a little.
]

I'm Nate. Hawthorne, if that means anything. [ Please let that not mean anything. ] Just passing through, I'm not gonna hurt you.

[ His hands are still flickering. With luck, he won't have to use them. ]

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ghostface: the red road (2015) (pic#16563735)

danny johnson ("ghostface") — dead by daylight / diabel.

[personal profile] ghostface 2023-07-14 02:57 am (UTC)(link)
ARRIVAL (IN THE WOODS)
( struck from grace, alone and naked in the woods, danny's first thought when he comes to is that he's being punished. again. no other explanation for it: the entity's pissed, and she's kicked him to some secluded corner of the wood where he can ruminate over what a bad disappointing boy he's been, sentenced to a thousand lines and lifetimes of i will not fuck around and find out on the chalkboard of his mind.

he quickly realizes, crouched in scratchy shrubbery while warily watching a few equally naked strangers book it through the trees past him, that maybe that isn't the case. this is different. something is different. he feels it, then. a gut-punch. a loss. she's not here.

when he finds you, you're inelegantly sprawled in the dirt, having caught your foot or ankle on a gnarled tree root. he approaches cautiously, hands raised and palms open, like he'd approach a frightened rabbit-girl-boy-survivor-prey in a snare. he looks friendly enough — pleasantly scruffy and boyish, even, despite his stark nakedness, with a smattering of black ink across his knuckles and forearms and a new, stranger mark ( ⚰︎ ) on the back of his left hand.

gently, as he kneels by your side:
) Hey, hey, easy. Are you okay? Can I see?

( if amenable, he'll cup a sandpaper-grit hand under your calf, carefully untangling your foot from the root. )

Are you hurt?


OFFERINGS
CW: POTENTIAL NSFW, APHRO'D FOOD, VAGUE REFS TO DRUG USE
( hope you don't mind company! danny finds you in the bustling throng of the crowd, considerably less naked now in a gauzy, semi-transparent tunic and a pair of indecently tight black trousers, black boots that remind him of home. he wields a sausage on a stick in one fist like it's a fucking renaissance festival, jiggling it toward you in offering. )

Pork sausage? I tried to refuse it, but the guy handing them out didn't wanna hear shit from my vegan ass. ( the lies come easy, natural. whatever's laced in the food here isn't his personal cup of tea, wrong drug, wrong high, wrong addiction, but that doesn't mean he isn't mildly interested in the effects it might have on other people. shitty science!

without waiting for a response or refusal, he trails your eye-line, to the wooden stalls swollen with a thick clot of people all waiting for their turns inside.
)

You wanna check it out? I'll go with.

( mischievous, as dimple-cheeked impish and conspiratorial as a schoolboy skipping class to shroud the boys' bathroom in a wall of cigarette smoke. he already knows what's in there, having taken an indulgent peek earlier in the night: bruised knees, mouths and throats as slick sleeves for fucking. )


FEED THE BEAST
CW: NSFW, MILD BREATHPLAY, SLIGHT EXHIBITION, REFS TO VIOLENT FANTASIES IN HIS INNER DIALOGUE
( what's the best salve for an urge he can't adequately quench? his hips corralled between the spread thighs of a stranger or vague acquaintance, whoever you might be in this moment, and his hand warmly necklacing your throat. you're alone in this room with him, one of the bedrooms, propped on a dresser and pinned between the wall and danny's weight. across from you, visible just over danny's shoulder, the door is cracked open to the hallway, forgotten in your clumsy tumble for privacy.

when he wedges his thumb into your pulse, his grip is loose, unthreatening. he thinks: squeeze a little. he thinks: fuck the bitch up. he cinches his fingers beneath your jaw and tilts your face toward his mouth, licks your teeth and feeds you the taste of his tongue and cigarette smoke, hard liquor.
)

You ain't gonna ghost me if we fuck, right? ( his voice is as gravel tumbled as his hand gliding down your front, between your forked thighs. whether you have a tight cunt for fucking or a dick for messy sucking, he squeezes you just the same. firm. a little mean. ) That'd really hurt my feelings.


MISCELLANEOUS
( danny as a character comes with a slew of content warnings you can view here. i'll cw per thread should anything come up, though nothing too egregious should be going down here while danny attempts to maintain a low(ish) profile for some of that good ol' slow-burn long conning. otherwise: ota, enthusiastically down for smut in (most) of these prompts for any interested 18+ parties! i default to brackets and present tense, but i'll match format so feel free to tag in w/ prose if the urge suits u. 👍

additionally, feel free to make up a bs prompt if none of these work for you and i'll follow your lead! super okay with assumed cr. characters sensitive to supernatural energy and/or those with detection abilities might notice the lingering echo of an attachment to a powerful force (a near-omnipotent eldritch entity, in this case, v malevolent, v bad news bears) on danny.

feel free to pm me at this account or over on [plurk.com profile] curbstomps with any questions/thread ideas/etc!
)
Edited 2023-07-14 03:14 (UTC)
hiyakai: (pic#15653731)

offerings—

[personal profile] hiyakai 2023-07-14 04:24 am (UTC)(link)
( why accept handouts when you can just take what you want?

unlike everyone else around him, kai parker is fully clothed in passably normal clothes. he's got a short-sleeved shirt, pants, boots and even some rings to decorate his fingers. he also caught himself a quick meal, but that isn't entirely stopping him from eyeing the food.

shame he can hear its effects — increase in heart rate, unsteady breathing, the works. he would have loved to dive in, otherwise. get his fill, you know? he isn't sure that drugs would even work on him, buuut... he isn't nearly bored enough to test it out. wouldn't it be really awkward if it actually did?

so when some yappy guy comes up to him with a sausage, he lifts his hand to turn him down, only for the conversation to swerve towards the packed area he was admittedly staring at earlier. it had less to do with interest than it did from, well, the noises inside. he can hear it all from where he's standing, but since the suggestion has been made, who is he to be a party pooper? (heh. get it? because it's a bathroom.) kai widens his eyes slightly, as he raises both of his hands in front of him in mild panic.
)

What? ( blue hues dart between the crowd of people and the guy in front of him apprehensively. ) Me? ( he points at himself with a nervous laugh. ) No, no. ( he shakes his head adamantly. ) I wasn't—... I mean, okay, I was a little curious, but... are you sure?

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Feed the Beast

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yeah buddy, get that dick dion

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vi_516: (23 fight)

Vi | Arcane | Wilk

[personal profile] vi_516 2023-07-14 03:32 am (UTC)(link)
{OFFERINGS FOR ULANTI}

1. This whole situation was fucked. Where the hell was she? Where was Caitlyn? Where the fuck was her sister? How the hell did she get there? Nothing made sense. Did all of Piltover blow the fuck up? There were too many questions, and Vi wasn't satisfied with any of the answers she'd received from the people she'd accosted for explanations. It netted her some clothing - a mesh tank top with nothing available to put underneath it, showing off both her nipples and her extensive tattoos, and a tight pair of shorts - but that was about it. Vi ended up aimlessly wandering around the town, trying not to feel sorry for herself, learning all the passages through the fortified walls and what the enforcers looked like.

She was easily roped into carrying things for someone who needed help setting up some stall for later that night. Vi propped up two wooden wall panels while the local guy hammered them together. There was a haunted look in her eyes as they darted around, tracking immediately to anyone walking by as Vi really tried to keep her shit together. Anyone that approached the stall setup ended up getting mean-mugged out of instinct born from years behind bars.


2. (cw: violence, blood, acab, prison abuse)

Vi might not have answers but she finally had an outlet for all the emotions twisting around inside her. The first fighting ring Vi came across had her jumping in while the people were still dragging out someone bloody and barely conscious. Cracking her neck, she raised her fists up at whomever the unfortunate other fighter in the ring was. "Shut up and fight," she said before launching herself at them.

Fight after fight, Vi continued to throw herself at an opponent, over and over, refusing to go down. She was good - very good - even if her guard still needed work, but perhaps it was her stamina or just damn stubbornness that kept her on her feet even with blood splattered across her mesh tank top, staining her fists, dripping from her nose and lip. She was going to end up with a black eye and more by the time she finally gave up, but when would that happen?

It only took a couple fights before she stopped seeing her opponents and saw ghosts from her past. The guards at Stillwater Hold that gave her a talking to. The sneering face of Sevika. The uncaring expressions of the Piltover Council. Every single fucking enforcer that had ever come down to the Lanes with ill intent. Ji-- No, never her. Not again. Silco. Her own face. Fuck them all. Every punch, knee, headbutt, should be cathartic, but it wasn't as eventually, she found herself on top of her enemy fighting like a woman possessed by the taste of blood in her mouth and the impact of fist on jaw.

One more hit would put this demon out of her misery... and it was so tempting to just do it. Smash it in and get thrown back into that small stone cell, laying on the freezing floor just waiting for the next beating, with only one thought keeping her going. The appeal shocked Vi out of seeing red and she deviated her fist, punching the ground next to the person's head. The next punch landed on the other side, once more impacting the ground, and again until she gave a primal scream of anguish in the guy's face, tear mixing in with the blood dripping off her face. And then he sucker-punched her in the temple.

A few moments later, Vi found herself being propped up outside the ring, her vision swimming still, and something cold slapped over her swelling eye. When someone sat down next to her - a former opponent, a spectator, one of the kind souls that dragged her ass out of the ring - she held the piece of raw meat to her face and coughed before groaning. "Y'should see th'other guy," she mumbled, feeling like there were marbles in her mouth. Ugh, she was going to be feeling that for days.


3. (cw: drugged/aphro food)

"You gonna finish that?" Vi had already eaten a fair amount of the offered food. It had been amazing if perverted in shape. But why let any go to waste?
erosive: i'm a soldier not a thief (pic#16587032)

3

[personal profile] erosive 2023-07-14 11:28 pm (UTC)(link)
Zoya wore a plunging neckline, although, thankfully, her nipples were covered, unlike her companion's. Distracted at wondering how comfortable that top could be, she glanced down at her half-eaten popsicle before peering up at Vi. She cocked her brow. "Does it look like I'm finished with it?"

She hadn't known what it was—still didn't, not quite, other than it clearly being flavoured ice—and while Zoya always liked to exercise caution in neighbouring towns, especially ones that she didn't quite know were friendly toward the Lantsov (now Nazyalensky, she supposed) flag, she always did try the food when offered. Begrudgingly.

But she didn't take to this food begrudgingly now. As if inspired by the question—and such a bold implication—Zoya put it back in her mouth to prove there really was only one answer to her question.

Zoya Nazyalensky was full of spite, and apparently, so was her popsicle.

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wanderslime: (New experiences)

Lalu | OC | Niez

[personal profile] wanderslime 2023-07-14 03:52 am (UTC)(link)
[[OC info: General, NSFW. ]]

-1 Teleportation-

[ Lalu, a blob of blue-green slime in the shape of a human, awakens blearily. Looks like it happened again. Normally, her curse is at least kind enough to teleport her clothing along with her! The nausea is new, too.

Well, nothing for it but to start surviving. In the interest of decency, she keeps the naughtier bits of her anatomy smoothed over (people tend to be more wary of a slime with nipples for some reason). After a bit of hiking, and a lot of nothing to eat, she comes across the walled village - bad sign. Walls are usually there to keep something out, and that could very much include her. She approaches warily, somewhat encouraged by the friendliness of the guards, but still tries to look as non-threatening as possible. Hands up, approaching slowly, looking for someone who might know anything about this country. ]


Ahem! Hello! I come in peace! Is this a slime-friendly settlement? No problem if not, I'll just find somewhere else!

[ So, what'll it be? Sympathetic strangers, or pitchforks and torches? ]


-2 Absorption-


[ Food! Lalu doesn't usually need to eat that often, but whatever happened to bring her here left her low on energy. Then again, eating isn't an involved affair for her, she just swallows the vegetables whole, and the drift down into her torso to gradually be broken down into useful proteins. The pheasant she doesn't even bother breaking apart, instead just shoving the whole thing into her chest. Slimes are weird.

Once that process is far enough along that she can feel her energy returning, Lalu, still naked, raises a hand. ]


I guess we're all in this together, so it's nice to meet you all! I'm Lalu, a slime! I'm used to teleporting into unfamiliar places, so if this is your first time, maybe I can provide some advice! In exchange, I'd really appreciate it if someone knew where I could get some water-resistant clothes, like maybe a raincoat!


-3 Degradation (NSFW)-


[ The night of the festival! When you get zapped around at random, you need to find the fun in experiencing new cultures, and frankly, this one seems fun as hell. Dinner was satisfying but plain, so at the stalls, she gravitates towards her favorite: Anything full of sugar. Unfortunately, they don't just have sugar in them, and she ate a lot.

It all hits at once, leaving her feeling hot and dizzy. Her surface feels abnormally sensitive, and she can feel the eyes of others on her. She sees people engaging in sensual acts out in the open, and feels a gnawing, desperate need to be touched. No, more than touched.

Her body is more defined, again, once again sporting all the erogenous zones of a normal human body (or slimy analogues thereof). The damp cloak she brought for modesty falls to the ground, forgotten in her drugged haze of lust. There's so many people, so sexually charged. So, let's give them what they want. ]


H-Hey... Hey, everyone! I want... I need...?

Someone, please have sex with me! I'll do anything you want! One at a time, everyone at once, I don't care! Fuck me! Fuck me up!
this_heart: (05.)

3.

[personal profile] this_heart 2023-07-14 10:54 am (UTC)(link)
[ That sure is forward. And maybe as jarring as it is worrying. Atsuhide slowly makes his way over, sober from alcohol but a little dosed on aphros. ]

You might not get the attention you need if you're announcing it like that.

[ With violence being one of the ways to combat zadza... He gets it, though. ]

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ramure: (o84.)

lottie matthews | yellowjackets | niez

[personal profile] ramure 2023-07-14 04:17 am (UTC)(link)
➸ ìղ էհҽ աօօժʂ ʂօʍҽահҽɾҽ...
ą. cw: nudity, mental illness/hallucinations

[ It wasn't the cold woods that had been the surprise for Lottie - far from it. The trees had been a little different, the terrain unfamiliar (and yes, that was strange when she thought she knew the immediate area around the cabin like the back of her hand), but even waking naked was nothing compared to the sight of the wall and the gates coming into view after her long hike. Lottie has been wide-eyed and staring ever since, silent, trying to take in the return of civilization - or at least a civilization - as though she's seeing the impossible. She isn't unused to that.

But the lights! Odd-looking and old somehow but working. So, so many people, dressing and behaving unlike any she's ever seen before. Food and shops and cobbled fucking streets! If this is a vision it isn't fading like the others and Lottie can be found wandering the streets as if admiring a dream, naked and unconcerned about it, marvelling at more technology than she's had access to in months.

But she can feel a pall over this village, a darkness that lingers even in the smiles that are turned her way by the locals. Something has happened here, something she has just missed. She feels as though she is following it around corners, that the mystery is lying just out of her reach.

Eventually, she is guided to the boarding house doors and inside there is the faintest smell - smoke, agreeing with the dark smears of fire damage that make Lottie blink and fixate, blink and see the cabin, the cabin, oh no, we're going to die-- Had there been a fire here? Had there been blood spilt? Is that the doom that she is feeling as the boarding house doors swallow her up?

But suddenly there is a pile of clothes being offered to her and she takes them hesitantly, turning to the person beside her. ]


Are they just... free?

ҍ. cw: allusions to cannibalism

[ As soon as she's dressed, Lottie can't resist the smell of food any longer. She can be found wolfing down plate after plate, focusing primarily on the pheasant because she knows the value of protein over anything else. She has been in a state of accelerating starvation for nearly a year and her hunched posture and frantic eating pace shows it and should anyone sit near her, it will take them more than a little effort to get the tall, haggardly pretty teenager's attention. ]

What?

[ Asked with a mouthful of meat, a blessedly different kind than the last she'd had. ]

ç.

[ Exhausted, unaccustomed to strangers but more than used to communal sleeping by this point, Lottie tries the first door that opens for her and blinks her pair of hauntingly dark, shadowed eyes at whoever happens to be inside. ]

Oh. Hello.

➸ օƒƒҽɾìղցʂ էօ մӀąղէì
ą. cw: potential nfsw convo/content, light voyeurism

[ After deciding within a reasonable margin of error that this is probably not a dream, or at least not one of the kinds she's ever experienced before, Lottie is content to join in the festivities and explore the streets with more lucid purpose. Every single thing she sees just brings up more questions, more curiosities like rabbit holes for her mind to fall into. When she's offered something slinky to fit into the revealing ceremonial dress of those that have sheltered and fed and clothed her, Lottie is happy to accept the crocheted net dress even though she doesn't have much to wear beneath it. Her mark, Niez although she does not know enough yet to realize it, is settled between her breasts where her heart beats but her tumble of dark hair nearly hides it.

She is frightened yet fascinated by the fighting circles that have cropped up and the cages get her staring again in revulsion and concern. She can be found standing and gazing at both displays at different times in the evening, that thousand-yard look in her eyes as though she's seeing more than others can - the history of why these people might be behaving this way, the primal nature that is being revealed, the need these people must have for these outlets. It's all washing over her as she observes and when she finally blinks at someone watching beside her, they get a long, ghostly look. ]


Who would choose to fight or to be put in a cage?

ҍ. cw: aphro'd food, potential for nfsw, dub-con

[ Overwhelmed with the strange sights and sounds and performances, every chasm in her mind buzzing with the new world she now understands she's stepped into somehow, Lottie finds herself in need of a rest. She helps herself to a sugar pink flowery vagina of a cupcake, finds a soft patch of grass and curls her legs up under herself to watch people use what she at first thinks could be phone booths. But no, neither are they bathrooms it seems, and she's only just noticing the state of the people exiting when she bites down into the confection frosting.

Her dark eyes roll back in her head. Paradise, a forgotten world in that dessert. She hadn't even realized how much she missed it. At that moment Lottie is experiencing far more pleasure than either of the occupants of the gloryhole booths possibly could. ]


➸ հìժìղց ìղʂìժҽ ҽąçհ օƒ մʂ
[ After one treat, side effects or not, Lottie finds herself in search of another so it's no surprise that she eventually ends up trying the door to the bakery with the cute little sign she can't resist. No one up front, no one behind the counter, but the warmest glow, a familiar orange flicker from the back...

She lets herself behind the display case without a second thought, drifting like a person dreaming, but when she rounds the corner and sees the woman consumed in flame, Lottie's wide eyes reflect the horror like dark mirrors.

It lunges. All she can do is scream. ]

ա ì Ӏ ժ ç ą ɾ ժ !
( Lottie is from the end of s2, lmk if you'd like me to keep her spoiler-free! pp anytime for plot @ [plurk.com profile] kaitniss )
Edited 2023-07-14 04:18 (UTC)
oomfies: 𝑜𝑜𝓂𝒻𝒾𝑒𝓈 (💚 industry.)

offerings to ulanti, a!

[personal profile] oomfies 2023-07-14 07:42 am (UTC)(link)
[ It's a pain— having to stay up so late just to make appearances, that she's enthused about the festival. That she definitely intends to participate, for sure, outside of the scantily clad clothing she's arranged on her frame.

It shimmers (another dress, this time a halter, length caressing the floor) when the light hits her just right, as she surveys the fighting and caged townsfolk with a drink she hasn't touched in hand. She's about to wander somewhere through the crowd for a break, for some time alone to recuperate the energy required to avoid staring at so many genitals and going 'oooo, sexy' over and over when someone looks suspiciously her way, when Lottie turns to ask her a question.

And it's a harmless question, really! A normal one. An expected one. Lottie would ask this, too, if she weren't as familiar with the culture, the needs of the people (them), here.

She doesn't answer with that, though, something well thought out and congenial. She answers with silence, a smile stuck on her face as something about her gaze — like she isn't even looking at her, or she's looking too much at her? Too close, too intense and distant all at once — unnerves her. ]


Ah— [ Holy shit? Get it together, she thinks. She laughs to break the silence (well, between the sounds of fighting and people cooing towards them from the cage). ] I think it's just all about preference, you know?

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mesolimbic: (💉 082)

dr john thackery · the knick

[personal profile] mesolimbic 2023-07-14 04:28 am (UTC)(link)
001. awakening.
[ All things considered, Thack has probably woken up in worse places, though that thought barely occurs to him considering where he was until just moments ago. It takes some time for the immediacy of the situation to register – in fact, for a while he’d just laid there on the forest floor, curled up in a position that appeared almost fetal. It was only once the spiders had actually begun to scuttle over his skin that he’d moved, with jerky suddenness that saw him rearing up from the ground and clutching at his stomach. There’s a horizontal scar over his abdomen, pink and fresh, healed but still new. He spent a moment trying to assess it in the low light, and then stumbled forwards, away from the arachnid horde.

Now, he’s following a sense of urgent forward momentum which may well be utterly senseless, westward out of the forest. The moment he he spots another person, he stops dead, his lips slightly parted in discombobulated surprise. ]


Are you real?

002. boarding house.
[ It hasn’t been long since his arrival, but Thack is already making the best of it. The boarding house is an excellent opportunity to study his fellow new arrivals in close quarters, so – now that he’s properly dressed, of course – he knocks on every door, holding a small notebook, with a pencil poised and ready to take notes. ]

Good afternoon. [ He has a charming, friendly smile when he needs it, and despite everything there’s an ease and confidence to his gait that seeps out of him. ] I was wondering if I could ask you some questions. It won’t take long.

003. festival.
[ Thack isn’t going to pass up an opportunity to take in some of Rubilykskoye’s culture. He keeps to the edge of the crowd – all the better to observe, of course – and takes his time as he wanders from one food stall to the next, eyes bright with curiosity. Eventually, it gets the better of him (it always does), and he selects a cupcake from one stand, grinning at the immature novelty of it all as he takes a bite.

It must be the air, or his surroundings, or both, but before long it becomes impossible to ignore the warm fizz of want in his gut. It isn’t really directed at any one person; in fact, his eyes rove from one person to another, searching for a returning spark of interest. ]

004. wildcard.
[ throw something else at me or hmu @ [plurk.com profile] crowders if you would like to plot! ]
Edited 2023-07-14 04:33 (UTC)
boneblood: (006)

002

[personal profile] boneblood 2023-07-14 05:36 am (UTC)(link)
[He managed to secure a bed, which was the only thing that had been eating at Wesley since coming into town and checking 'get clothed' off the list ahead of it. He'd eaten a meager amount and now he doesn't know what to do with himself the first night there - but he doesn't exactly want to leave lest someone else lay claim to his frumpy little pile of bedding. The knock on the door's new and so is a lot of shit for Wes right now, so he is the perfect target for roaming salesmen and religious messengers because he just opens up the door to listen to the pitch and answers with:]

Okay. Would you like to come in?

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daggr: (pic#16572648)

sienna shaw | terrifier 2 | wilk

[personal profile] daggr 2023-07-14 10:10 am (UTC)(link)
𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.

( the dizzying wave of nausea that sweeps her when she sits up isn't altogether surprising. the last thing sienna remembers before waking here is pain; everywhere, but concentrated in her stomach. the encroaching cold as she slowly bled out. that she didn't survive isn't surprising, she fought as hard and as long as she could. but since her father's dead, she's had a lot of time to consider heaven and hell and if she believes in either. she's imagined a hundred different scenarios, but never this. naked, shivering and retching in an unfamiliar wood.

as the brief moment of sickness begins to subside and she stumbles ungracefully to her feet, a twig breaks somewhere off to her right, sending her heart lurching in her chest; so sure it's going to be that goddamn clown again. )
Hey.

( relief heavy in her voice, sienna attempts a smile at the sight of another person. a seemingly normal one, given the situation. very aware that there's no way to preserve any modesty here, she instinctively folds her arms across her chest anyway. )

I'm not really sure how I ended up here. I don't suppose you know where to find a phone? Or at least a way out?

𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢.

( infinitely more comfortable after finding clothes (a plain if somewhat sheer dress)sienna weaves her way through the townspeople in various states of undress. now and then averting her eyes from those more uncovered. at some point a cupcake is thrust into her hands, and it's been hours since she's even considered food but suddenly she's absolutely starving. without thought, she polishes it off in three bites.

certain at first that the flood of heat to her cheeks is just the strangeness of the day and a sudden rush of sugar, but that doesn't explain the warmth threading through her chest and stomach, or the sudden desire...no, need to be close to someone. drifting towards the crowd of dancers, she finds herself spinning somewhere near the center. happy at first just to be a part of the crowd, though just as willing to pull your character in should they wander too close<.

if she doesn't find a dance partner, eventually she'll head back towards the food stalls in search of another one of those delectable cupcakes. swiping pink and distinctly sexual looking frosting off the top, she licks it from her index finger with a deep moan before thrusting it into the face of whoever happens to be closest at the time. )
You have to try this! ( off the cupcake or her finger, that's entirely up to you. )

𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝.

( i'm the worst at setting up open starters, so if you have something else in mind or want to work something out, i'm super open to whatever! feel free to shoot a pm to this journal or you can find me on plurk @ absurdities. )
pickaxe: mine — dnt (16574311)

offerings ( cw—minor reference to violence, nsfw-ish )

[personal profile] pickaxe 2023-07-16 12:29 am (UTC)(link)
[ tom maintains his distance as best he can, prowling the fringes of the festivities. he's been stubborn and reluctant to acclimate, only interacting with others out of necessity. tonight is no different, but still, he watches. curious and repulsed all at once, while nursing a drink that closely resembles the rich flavor profile of rum—unaware that the especially bitter aftertaste left on his tongue is laced.

while everyone else seemingly succumbs to their base urges, tom remains stagnant against his own—or so he thinks. an unsettling dissonance colors every aspect, gnawing at the recesses of his mind, like a ravenous beast begging to be set free. aggression comes naturally to tom, an innate force lurking beneath the surface, instinctual and ever-present. but in this place, especially tonight, it surges forth with an intensity that threatens to consume him entirely. it coils like a venomous snake, its grip tightening around his insides the more he drinks.

his anger wasn't always his defining force, there was a time when sweet naivety draped over him like a veil. snuffed out when it all came crashing down in a symphony of violence, a deluge of blood-soaked frenzy—

without warning, the thoughts that occupy his mind vanish beneath a torrent of heat, rippling through his body and prickling at his skin. well, shit. at least the drinks around here are strong enough to drown in, the one redeeming quality of this backwater shithole. tom drains the rest down his gullet, carelessly abandoning the cup on the nearest surface, and fixated on returning to the stand for another. but just as he spots it through the crowd, a pretty little brunette intercepts him, clad in a dress that accentuates her body. his eyes stray for a self-indulgent moment, then flicker to the cupcake in hand.

he considers declining, shoving her aside. but there's an inexplicable allure about her, something that seems to mitigate his frustrations, even if only for just a moment. ]


How much have you had to drink? [ abrupt and offhandedly, finally cracking the barest of smiles, the first since he arrived. he doesn't leave much room for an answer, fingertips already grazing her soft, warm skin, cupping her hand in his own as he leans in for a bite. it's sweet, and decadent, and fucking perfect—eliciting a low, guttural groan that rumbles in his chest.

it's almost funny to think that just moments ago, he teetered on the precipice of his breaking point. and now her skin under his feels so damn good, igniting a primal craving, a magnetic pull he can't resist. his hold on her tightens, fingers curling possessively. ]
Shit, that's good. [ yielding to another bite—instead, his mouth diverts to envelop the whole of her finger, licking and sucking the remnants of frosting. no second thoughts, no hesitation. driven solely by raw instinct. ]
Edited 2023-07-16 00:54 (UTC)
wrackful: (Default)

john murphy | the 100 | station72 crau | niez

[personal profile] wrackful 2023-07-14 01:23 pm (UTC)(link)
IN THE WOODS SOMEWHERE
cw: nudity, blood
Downside of having an alien symbiote in your head - outside of the lack of privacy and the inevitable degradation of your individuality - is that it's always awake. There's been more than a few times where Murphy could've slept longer, blissfully ignorant, if the bug hadn't started the psychic equivalent of a siren howling in his brain. Sure, it had technically saved his life once or twice. But Murphy doesn't know if this is one of those times, and just a few minutes more of unconsciousness on the forest floor might have improved his mood.

So would clothes, a weapon, and a basic head's up that he was getting dropped somewhere solo.

He's managed to address one of those concerns, a cluster of decent sized stones clutched in one hand as he picks his way through the forest. This is familiar, at least, working slowly through trees and undergrowth, never knowing if the next step might kill you. Which is why, when he sees someone else, his first instinct is to duck behind the nearest tree. Spotted already, the best he can do instead is wry nonchalance, even as he tests his grip on the stones in his hand.

"You too, huh?"

His nose is bleeding, and he lifts his free hand to wipe at it, as ineffective as it has been the dozen times before.

OFFERINGS
cw: aphrodisiacs
Dressed, fed, and at least a few of his questions answered, Murphy's feeling a damn sight more steady as he makes his way around the festival. The noise and movements of a crowd help, a little, taking the edge off the numb void in his head where the hum of the nest should be. The actual festivities themselves are a pretty good distraction, too. He thought he'd been to some wild places already, but even Shril hadn't gone this hard. Pausing by the stalls with their glory holes, he takes a moment to finish off the last bite of his third vagina shaped fruit tart.

( I'm starting to see why I didn't get a briefing. )

Dry, juvenile humour in the thought, directed out over the howling drop of the cliff on the edge of his mind. He doesn't realise there's another connection, now, and he's just sent an open message out to anyone nearby.

HIDING INSIDE EACH OF US
Murphy is completely unashamed of how he beelines towards food. Surviving near starvation could do that to you, and anywhere where food is readily available typically has him investigating any and all options. The bakery was an easy choice. The smell of fresh bread was a multi-universal, apparently, but wandering into the store this morning hadn't gotten him the warm welcome he'd expected.

He's a little bloodied and slightly singed as he flees out the door, pushing into anyone attempting to enter. Pushes them deliberately as soon as it registers there's another person, reaching back to pull the door closed behind him, eyes wide but set steely.

"Unless you wanna get fried alive, bakery's closed."

There's a crackling roar from inside, reminiscent of something structurally important giving way to flames and gravity. He doubts the door's going to slow her down too much. "Run," he advises his new companion.
Edited 2023-07-14 13:35 (UTC)
pigeonblood: I am a happily widowed woman, sir. (how dare you)

hiding ( cw burn trauma )

[personal profile] pigeonblood 2023-07-14 05:17 pm (UTC)(link)
The reek of burnt flesh is what stops her, not the shove. Tears prick her eyes at the flood of gruesome memories. The night of the fire. The hours of triage. So many bodies, crackled black and slick red. So much wailing. She's ready to run before it's asked of her.

( The bakery is on fire! Nile has transformed! ) she calls out as she makes haste alongside the unfamiliar man. It's urgent, broadly thought; he'll hear her voice in his head, too.

Then, in his ears. "This way!" as she grabs his arm and steers him down a side street. Wood structures on either side of them, inviting devastation. As long as Nile is focused on the two of them, attempting to hide would spread her flame. With the possible exception of the bathhouse. Hopefully, the water will give them shelter. It may even give them a weapon.

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brothergoblin: (00)

Tyler Ronan | Tell Me Why | Diabel

[personal profile] brothergoblin 2023-07-14 01:37 pm (UTC)(link)
( ooc: Tyler is a trans man who has had top surgery but not lower surgery. He also has some content warnings which are here! You can find me over on Plurk at edgerunner if you'd like to plot a thing..! )

In the woods somewhere

Awareness filters in slowly, at first more of a vague suggestion than a full blown reality. It's nausea that pulls this waking world into focus, color draining from Tyler's face as he fights a wave that threatens to really put in an appearance.

Even then the grasp on his surroundings is loose, dreamlike. It must be a dream, right? Why else would he be out in the forest butt naked? His intervening thought is how cool it is his brain has finally caught up to the fact he's had top surgery. The scars are still freshly pink and thin.

He's rubbing a grateful hand over his flat chest when rustling yanks his attention rudely from his appreciation. It's easier to feel less embarrassed and ashamed of being totally naked when he's convinced this has to be a dream. But then he starts to doubt, the itch of bashful heat sliding under his skin and he starts to get up.

"Hello?"


Offerings for Ulanti

Later, when Tyler has come to terms (at least a fraction) with the fact this isn't a dream, he opts to venture out and explore the town. Dressed in a simple shirt and pants combo, it's not long before he understands how overdressed he is.

Inexperienced and overwhelmed, Tyler realizes quickly that he regrets leaving the boarding house at all. Trying to loop back on himself is difficult, especially as the crowds swell and he's desperately trying to avoid attention.

He can be seen giving the cages a wide berth as he tries not to stare at the naked dancers inside. A short time later he can be found blushing at a very girthy sausage somebody has handed him.

Eventually he tries to get a break from the crown, ducking into an empty stall, not realizing it's a gloryhole. Maybe somebody can take pity on this poor, inexperienced virgin and rescue him?


You waited too long

Stressed and barely treading water, the irritability filters in slowly, building like a particularly slow classical composition. Whoever he's met and befriended over the last few weeks are all shut out of his room, including anybody he's sharing with as he desperately tries to control his urges.

They range from irritable to horny to hungry to angry and his first thought is hormones. His levels must be all over the place, he tries to rationalize. But ultimately it's no good, whatever control he thought he had slips free of his fingers.

The changes are painful, horrifying as he notices the tips of horns start to break through the skin at his forehead. The nub of his coccyx starting to grow until it's a long whip-like tail. His skin darkens until it's a deep, crimson red and his eyes lose all color until they're nothing but white orbs in his warped skull. His shoulder blades start to grow spikes until bat-like wings furl and unfurl, foreign and uncontrollable for now. When he looks in the mirror now, all he sees is a demon and it makes him scream.
bloomandwither: Art by Fluffinsheep (4)

Offerings

[personal profile] bloomandwither 2023-07-14 08:46 pm (UTC)(link)
[So, here's the set up; two virgins walking into a sex party-

Tyler's attempts to escape duck him into a private stall and he'll find the spot already occupied. Not in a mortifying way, as Ankari isn't in anything of a compromised position, but more of a pathetic way. The elf is just sat against the backwall with a hand over his face, looking a bit ill. He peers out between his own fingers when someone enters. Tyler gets a tone of dry humor, in greeting]


Unless you're also looking for a place to hide, please leave. [Ankari couldn't guess that that is exactly what Tyler is looking for about now.

-was there supposed to be a punchline? Maybe that'll come later.]

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hatchways: (pic#16566820)

dwight fairfield | dead by daylight | wilk

[personal profile] hatchways 2023-07-14 02:03 pm (UTC)(link)
IN THE WOODS
cw | nudity
( something feels... wrong.

he doesn't need to open his eyes to know what it is. there is neither the warmth nor the gentle crackle of an ongoing campfire — no rustling of feet or quiet whispers nearby. but more distinctly, he feels cold and moist, and mortifyingly exposed. brown eyes immediately opens wide as dwight fairfield pushes himself up off of the ground. he hears the loud beat of his heart hammering in his chest, threatening to beat its way out through his ribcage; yet he doesn't breathe. he doesn't dare to. instead, he stills and listens, analzying each and every little sound until he's certain that he's alone and he's safe for now.

he doesn't know what game the entity is playing, but this is new. very, very new. he has never just woken up in a new realm, especially not without his clothes on. what kind of fucked up new game is this? did the entity feel like there was a lull and needed to spice things up?

fuck it, he doesn't have time to stay put and ponder. he has no idea who he's gonna come up against and what they'll do to him when they see him like this. scrambling to his feet, dwight scans his surroundings to the best of his ability. it's a guesswork; it's always guesswork in a new realm. he just needs to keep going, find a generator, hopefully meet up with another of his crew and get this over with.

at least with the rush of adrenaline, he won't have to worry about how the temperature is affecting him just yet. he should be fine as long as he keeps moving. that's the key. keep moving, stay alert and cross shit off the mental checklist.

—except it's never that easy, is it? he's walking, walking and walking, yet he doesn't see any generators or hooks around. he doesn't hear any screams in the distance and, in fact, he hasn't run into anyone yet, except for some squirrels and lizards. what the fuck is going on?

by the time he actually encounters someone, dwight is already beginning to feel the onset of the cold against his bare skin. he instinctually covers himself with his hands and maintains a considerable distance from them, unsure but desperate enough to try calling out.
)

Hey, uh... ( he doesn't recognize them. it's weird. he knows all of the survivors. it's his job to. ) Who are you?

OUT OF THE WOODS
cw | anxiety attack
( revealing clothes is better than no clothes.

he doesn't have the energy or the pride to be picky over free shit, when he has spent the past seven years mending and conserving what little resources he could gather. besides, it isn't that bad. he's seen the trickster wear more revealing outfits than the crop top and leather pants he has on. it helps a lot that almost everyone else in this town have similar taste in fashion. if they can embrace it, then he can stomach it, until he finds an alternative.

the bigger issue right now is that he's pretty fucking sure that he's on the verge of an anxiety attack.

it's too crowded, too noisy and too... everything. his senses feel like their on overdrive right now, overwhelmed by all the visuals, movements and sounds. it's been years since he was surrounded by so many people, who're just laughing and singing and dancing like nothing is wrong.

but everything's wrong. everything's so so wrong. he's gotta be hallucinating or maybe he's finally gone nuts.

breathe, fairfield. breathe. you aren't crazy. this is real. it's impossible, but it's real and you are not crazy. just count your breath out, slow and steady.

pinching his arm for the umpteenth time, he tries to stabilize himself with the sharp sting. it hurts. it hurts because this isn't a dream and this probably isn't a delusion. concentrate on something else. concentrate.
)

Uh... ( he grabs onto the closest person passing by, his hand shaky and his voice shakier. ) Can you—... Can you help me for a sec?

MISTAKES WERE MADE
cw | aphro'd food, aggression, anxiety issues & gloryholes
( the food was a mistake.

he should've known better, but he didn't realize how hungry he was until he saw the stands with all their displays and everything was free. but maybe he should have paced himself. it's been years since he had eaten that much and now it's clearly fucking with him.

pushing his way through the crowd, dwight tries to locate the nearest bathroom, his stomach queasy and his cheeks flushed. something isn't right with him. he feels too heated and uncomfortable, and he seriously can't tell if he wants to throw up or—... or what?
) Excuse me—... Coming through. ( he's growing increasingly impatient as his anxiety spikes. ) Excuse me, can you please fucking get out of my way?

( sooner or later, he successfully arrives at a bathroom, but it honestly isn't the kind he was aiming for. frozen in place by what he's seeing with his own freaking eyes, dwight starts to back out. is it him or is it insanely hot in here? either it's the embarrassment or it's the fact that he's feeling a very real and noticeable ache, and he would rather not get into it with anyone here right now. unfortunately for him, that step back collides him straight into the person behind. )

Sorry, I—... I'm on my way out. ( this was a big mistake. a huge mistake. )

WILDCARD
[ ooc | all prompts are malleable. play with them however you'd like! different points, different takes etc. if you're interested in doing something else that's not covered by the above scenarios, then feel free to hit me with it. don't hesitate to pm me for any questions and/or concerns. ]
erosive: i'm a soldier not a thief (pic#16587021)

in the woods

[personal profile] erosive 2023-07-14 11:11 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The cold bothers Zoya some, but she focuses on the task at hand: winding her way out of the woods. Except these woods feel endless. Each tree looks the same. Even when she tries to distinguish between them—one has bark peeling off its side, another large hollows one could shove their face through—she finds herself more lost than found.

Except now, clearly. By a naked stranger.

She doesn't bother with modesty. I am a soldier. Soldiers have little time to worry about skin. There's a job to be done, and she'll see it through no matter what.

But that still doesn't stop her from crossing her arms against her breasts to make herself appear as sharp as a crack of thunder. She's not disturbed by this. She's not thrown off-kilter. She's Zoya Nazyalensky and she's faced worse than this.

Even if she's entirely out of her element. Why had Juris, such an ancient, exasperating being, not ever found himself trapped in some spooky woods, naked and alone and with strangers? Zoya has no compass to guide her, no memories from an ancient entity to set her on her path.

Furrowing her brows, she turns her chin upward and peers down her nose at him. ]


Who are you?

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cw: references to war

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MISTAKES WERE MADE

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noonlight: (Default)

Illumination ⍚ OC ⍚ Niez

[personal profile] noonlight 2023-07-14 03:07 pm (UTC)(link)
⌲ Arrival.

Ostensibly, Illumination could whip up an illusion of clothing, but she's never been particularly bothered by nudity - her own or that of others. Then again, she's very much not human and pointedly refuses to hide that fact. (This may or may not become an issue as she approaches other people and the local town, but given her cool manner hopefully they won't assume she's fallen to her own inner beast.)

At the boarding house, she finds something that can pass as a sarong and starts to get a feel for the locals. Magic is a skill, but so too is integration among other people and both require effort and practice. Perhaps she looks for a spot to eat her dinner - "Do you mind if I sit here?" - or maybe she's trying to be helpful - "I'm no woodworker, but if you want a hand, I'll do what I can."

⌲ Offerings.

Illumination has been to clubs and parties where such things were common, but this public festival is all a bit more forward than she's used to. Still, she's happy to work out a public scene with anyone that wants to be slapped around or collared.

"Hullo darling, why don't you tell me what you're looking for and let's see if we can come to an agreement."

⌲ OOC.

Questions, comments, want to hmu for chatter? [plurk.com profile] bootknife
Edited 2023-07-15 20:23 (UTC)
brothergoblin: (09)

Arrival | Boarding house

[personal profile] brothergoblin 2023-07-17 12:31 pm (UTC)(link)
Had it not been for the introduction to people-that-aren't-human the day before, Tyler might gawp a little more at the question asker. He doesn't pass the gaze off as casual exactly but it's more fascination than anything else.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" He's apparently been away with his own thoughts because he blinks once, then twice in quick succession, and then his brain seems to catch up and he gestures at the empty seat opposite him.

"Go ahead."

The person he'd been hoping to bump into again is nowhere to be found and he's not saving a seat exactly. Plus he's spent way too long on his own today, his introvert heart reenergized and the cool grip of loneliness settling in.

"New here too?"

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dion: (13)

Dion Lesage | FFXVI | Skala

[personal profile] dion 2023-07-14 08:51 pm (UTC)(link)
IN THE WOODS SOMEWHERE

Waking up naked in the middle of nowhere is definitely not how Dion imagines his day going. At first he thinks he's dreaming, or hallucinating, or something has gone much worse than it actually has. But there's no point standing still, even though he's a little bit mortified to be totally nude. He's proud enough, though, either way, and he will endure. (Probably.)

In town, find him politely asking for clothing at the boarding house. He has the air of someone used to having authority, but he's not trying to leverage that. It's just an attitude, you know? Of course he doesn't get much for his trouble, but it's better than nothing. (He could be asking your character or you can overhear/observe the exchange with an NPC.)

At dinner he's regained composure a bit more. He's happy to move over to let someone join him at the table. Again, he has a noticeable air about him. He's a prince; it probably shows. At least there is food. At least other people around seem to not know what the hell is going on.

So he'll just outright ask, "Forgive me, but have you been here long? There is so much I do not yet know that I scarcely know where to begin."

Or start a conversation with him first.

He leaves a little early, somewhat exhausted by this entire ordeal. He eventually finds a rare unoccupied room and sits on one of the beds for a moment to try to collect his thoughts. If this is not a dream, how is it even possible? This is not like anything he's heard of or encountered, and with no memory of arrival…well. No sense sitting around about it.

You can find him still sitting OR you can find him peering out the window.

If he's still sitting, he'll stand immediately, just to be polite. "Ah, my apologies. I didn't think anyone else was using this room at present." (Dealer's choice whether your character was using the room previously or whether they're scouting out a place to stay.)

If he's looking out the window, he's a little distracted by his own thoughts. He glances back when the door opens. "The stars here look very different to what I'm used to seeing."


OFFERINGS FOR ULANTI

Talk about things that are a lot to adjust to. Most people wear many layers of clothing where he's from, Dion himself included. He feels so exposed here without armour, to say nothing of clothing. Still, here he is in town with everyone else. By now he's gotten the other worlds explanation just to make it easier on everyone involved. For magical spoilers reasons, he accepts that well enough.

The rest of it, well…it will probably take some doing. Dion has no way of knowing that the food is dosed with aphrodisiacs, so when someone comes and sets a cupcake in his hands, he eats it. It seems impolite to do otherwise. After a while, he feels too hot. He can feel the thing still connected to him, the Eikon, raging in his mind. He clenches his fists and his jaw, refusing to allow such anger to overcome him. This internal struggle might look obvious, though.

Or perhaps it isn't anger. Perhaps it's just need. He finds himself mesmerised by one of the performances, eyebrows knit together in consternation, unable to look away but somewhat ashamed of that. Rescue him from this somehow. Proposition him. Ask him to join you onstage; he can't possibly say no at this point (to men only).


HIDING INSIDE EACH OF US

Fortunately(?), Dion is no stranger to monsters, or even to people becoming monstrous. He himself can do something of the like (he has no idea yet that he's also cursed, but details).

When the baker woman transforms, Dion is quick to grab the nearest thing he can to block her. It's just a rake, but the handle is at least metal. It isn't a spear but it will do. He's also quick to get between someone who seems a helpless victim about to be scorched and the fire monster.

"Go. I'll hold her here," he says, determined. If you're observant enough even in this situation, you might catch the spark of light that ghosts over Dion's features. This isn't like the curse transformations; this is something else, something definitely magic, powerful, possibly frightening or threatening.

You can choose to stand and fight alongside him; he will do his best to keep anyone he can safe, including taking a hit for them.

Or you can find him later, after whatever battle ensues, a scorched mark on his shoulder. What happened to that monster? Enh, details! But feel free to recognise an exhausted Dion and talk to him here, bandage that burn, etc.

[ I prefer not to engage with player character death for this TDM but minor and major injuries are all fine! ]


WILDCARD

[ Something else you'd like to try? Throw me a starter or hmu at [plurk.com profile] boywonder to plan something out.

Dion is over 30 and can turn into a dragon! He also has an in between himself and his dragon form state that we don't see in the game (bc Squaresoft hates me personally, I assume), but it does exist. He absolutely will not use that dragon form unless he has no choice.

He keeps his right arm bandaged up but you may catch him before he finds bandages or something to cover up with; the flesh on his arm looks grey and strange.

I'm really interested in the glory hole thing but I could not find a way to ICly make that work, but if you got an idea please lmk! (Kink list in the works.)

I will try to avoid major spoilers in these threads UNLESS you indicate you're fine with spoilers. I'll still warn for them if they come up though.
]
erosive: they burn us nina (pic#16587049)

stargazing

[personal profile] erosive 2023-07-14 11:03 pm (UTC)(link)
( ooc: I'm not familiar with the canon, so I'm fine with spoilers! )

Despite her discomfort of being brought to a new town without so much as having a say, Zoya's found some comfort (and control) in what she wears. Blue. It's her comfort colour. She sports a tunic that almost looks like a midnight blue, and lacks the intricate embroidery of stars.

She'd been content to walk by this room, but the dragon inside of her senses something different. Most people in the boarding house seem different. Not all of them are mortals, and not all of them are Grisha. It's a weird convolution of energies but like calls to like.

Standing in the doorway, she tilts her head slightly to the side. She doesn't step foot inside—Zoya, for all of her coldness, isn't impolite.

"And what are you used to seeing?"

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encouragable: (4)

Sidon | Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom | Skala

[personal profile] encouragable 2023-07-15 12:15 am (UTC)(link)

IN THE WOODS SOMEWHERE


The cool weather wasn't welcome, and he wonders, for once, if this is why most of Hyrule wore some sort of clothing. It didn't quite snow in the Zora domain, and kept a mild temperature throughout the year to the point that he hadn't considered snow and ice as a weather phenomenon. He shivers as he makes his way to the river, hearing the water from a distance and relieved that it was still flowing. He doesn't intend to travel up the river just yet, but he could at least follow it one way or the other.

Maybe he would be so lucky to find someone else along the way.

Sidon rubs his arms as he considers his options. The logical direction would be to follow the river upstream - locate civilization and find out where he is. Without his spear, he felt quite vulnerable in this new land.

He blinks, turning his head to glance over his shoulder at the slightest of sounds.

"No need to hide." He drops his hands to his side, flexing his fingers as he turns to face whoever was behind him. "I don't bite."

At least, not yet.


OFFERINGS FOR ULANTI


Now this was something interesting. He had left the boarding house to the sounds of the festivities, curious about the noise. He finds himself staring at half-naked bodies, surprised by the display, but not scandalized. Sidon watches as people dance through the streets, food being offered in celebration of something he didn't quite understand. It's a little overwhelming, taking in unfamiliar sights and sounds, but he pushes on, making his way through the city to learn more about this festival. Several of the native people have explained it to him, but something still seems out of his grasp. Sate his inner beast? He understood the idea of purging bad energy... he doesn't think on it too long before a cupcake is shoved into his hands and he's told to "loosen up" (so to say) and "join in".

So he eats the cupcake, paying mind to the flavor, the shape of the frosting (it had some... qualities that seemed familiar), and starts to wander further into the festivities. He can be found examining those in the cages, curious and mildly worried as to if this was a punishment or not. Sidon can also be found near the partitioned stalls, debating on entering but hasn't quite made a decision - as though he wants to participate but is restraining himself.

He has his reasons, but try and talk him into it anyway.


HIDING INSIDE EACH OF US


Sidon was surprised that the woman, Nile Yoren, was not at the bakery. He had intended to assist her for her, thanks to her assisting him shortly after his arrival. Concern washes over his features as he steps into the quiet bakery.

"Miss Yoren?" He calls out, moving further into the establishment. "Nile, are you here?" He tries again before he hears it - something crackling in the back room as he pushes past the door.

It's there he sees it. The living flame of someone by the oven, and he has no weapon to speak. Nothing that he could use to douse the flames and save whatever wretched creature lay beneath its twisted limbs. Sidon's quick, reaching to grab the nearest item (a rolling pin), and backing away toward the door quietly.

But not quietly enough.

It lunges, flames licking out toward him as he lunges backward against the door. How he manages to dodge is beyond him when one is made of flame, but he makes it out into the lobby - scrambling past the counter before he turns and spots--

"Run!" He shouts, waving toward the door. "I will hold it off."


WILDCARD


[Think of something else? You're welcome to PM this account or toss me a starter! I am quite open to most of the prompts, though I am not looking at character death on the TDM, but injury is all right. Spoilers for Tears of the Kingdom possible - though will do my best to avoid if asked.]

ohhshrine: (060)

offerings for ulanti

[personal profile] ohhshrine 2023-07-17 06:31 pm (UTC)(link)
Link also had those cupcakes — more than one, in fact, before realising the effects they would have. How could he have known? And he loves food, so cupcakes and other things were an easy sell when people just shoved them at him for free.

Unfortunately, that's only amped up the effects. So he's in this place so aroused that he can barely think straight. It impairs his judgment, lets him be talked into things he would normally never allow. He doesn't become one of the stage performers, but maybe this is…worse, being stuck in a cage to be gawked at, to have people reach for him through the bars to tease but never actually touch.

Someone stripped him of his clothes and strapped a black leather collar around his neck. He'll be mad about this later, but for now it doesn't even matter. He has his face against the bars, begging to be seen. And finally, finally someone stops.

Looking up, mouth half-open, fingers wrapped around the bars where he can reach them, it takes a moment for recognition to dawn. All that red isn't clothing; it's skin. His eyes go wide.

"…Sidon," he says. He means to sound scandalised or embarrassed but the Zora's name from his lips almost sounds like a plea.
decayings: (☠ and the weeds in the ground)

laura moon | american gods

[personal profile] decayings 2023-07-15 05:17 am (UTC)(link)
001 | 𝑰𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒔 𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆.

You've got to be fucking kidding me. ( anybody nearby is likely to hear not both the exclamation, and the annoyance plain as day in her voice. waking up in a strange place doesn't seem to phase her. neither does the fact that, for some reason, she's completely naked. shame isn't a quality laura moon possessed much of in life, even less so in death. ) This isn't how it's supposed to work!

( this last shouted to the woods at large, as if she's expecting someone to be listening. to respond. if anyone does happen to be listening, they might just hear a muttered "fucking one eyed piece of shit" as laura finally begins trudging out of the small clearing she's found herself in. no actual idea where she's headed, but one direction seems as good as any other.

from most angles laura seems like a fairly normal woman. slim, petite with long brown hair and a perfectly foul mouth. what really destroys the image is the y shaped autopsy scar running across her chest and abdomen. if you happen to bump into her, don't expect her to try to hide it. it's just who she is. even if you don't notice her, you might hear a somewhat abrasive voice shouting at you from somewhere nearby. )
Hey. Hey! What the fuck is this place?


002 | 𝑩𝒐𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆.

( after accepting whatever meager clothes offerings the sweet little old man downstairs was offering --she even managed a half-hearted thanks. she's not always the worst!-- laura makes her way upstairs. okay, so she hasn't actually gotten dressed yet, but there seems to be more new people than rooms available so finding a place to sleep seems like the more important task right now.

without knocking, she swings open the first door she sees and )
Shit. ( manages to pull it straight off the hinges. ) Sorry about that. ( mustering an apologetic half smile, she shrugs before attempting to fit the door back into place. settles for leaning it against the frame. ) Mind if I take the other bed?


003 | 𝑶𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑼𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊.

( look, in a better situation laura would love a party. no. scratch that. she fucking hates parties. she likes to drink and she likes to fuck, but a fucking crowd of sweaty, booze or drug or whatever the fuck fueled people dancing and writhing near her, pressed up against her. it's not her idea of a good time. never has been, never will be.

everywhere she looks are booths and people and flesh, and it's all somewhat appealing but it also makes her want to vomit. someone tries to press a sugar covered something into her hands and she just lets it fall. mashing it under her heel for good measure as she goes.

grabbing a bottle of something off a nearby cart, she cuts a beeline to the bathroom stalls. of course she doesn't bother with excuse me or any other form of curtesy. just pushes her way through the crowd and slams the door behind her, collapsing back onto the seat with an exasperated huff. it doesn't register at first that there's no actual toilet in the bathroom stall, and she takes a long pull from the bottle before dark eyes register the hole cut into the side of the booth. the faint shuffling on the other side of the partition. )


Stick anything through that hole and I swear to whatever god you backwater dickbags worship I'll rip it straight off.

( lovely, isn't she? )


004 | 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒅.

( open starters are not my cup of tea, so if none of these appeal to you i promise i won't be offended. if you have something in mind or something you want to talk about, feel free to shoot me a pm! i'm down for whatever. )
bloomandwither: Art by Pine (5)

Boarding House

[personal profile] bloomandwither 2023-07-15 06:13 pm (UTC)(link)
[Ankari is in the room getting dressed in his own meager clothing, having borrowed a blanket to wear into town for decency sake. That probably had more coverage than the high waist shorts and short tunic he had been given, but the look is one he's at least comfortable with. He's just barely got the bottom portion on when the door is broken off the hinges, making him jump in place.

When he swivels to see a woman has broken in, he's not sure what to think before she curses apologetically. He moves to help her wrangle the door, but she sets it aside before he can reach her, even though he's nearly all legs. Ankari just... musters a small greeting wave, instead.]


I wasn't quite settled in, if you wanted me to go elsewhere. I would not mind the company, however. [demanding a private room when there are only so many and this one has a second bed would be very entitled of him. He is still mostly eyeing the door, though]

Do you need any... help with that? [seems she has it handled, but he'll still ask]

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friendzied: (303)

julie kostenko (the legion) || dead by daylight || skala

[personal profile] friendzied 2023-07-16 06:57 am (UTC)(link)
IN THE WOODS; ARRIVAL
[ naked and disoriented in the woods isn't exactly normal for julie, her first instincts are to go for her weapon and fix her mask (in that order,) but having neither forces a stark awareness of the situation. immediately she assumes this is some new punishment, but for what? she's been good, they've all been so fucking good. even susie's been getting her kills in. deep breaths. she takes a knee by the fallen carcass of a tree and tries to think, catch her bearings, figure out what the entity-- ]

[ it's not there. ]

[ there's none of that ever-present pressure from the entity in the back of her head. none of the threads that link her to the rest of legion. julie doesn't know that she's ever felt so cataclysmically alone in her entire life. ]

[ no time to panic. she can have all the time she wants to feel like shit once she has her bearings, knows what to do. pushes hair out of her face with a dirty hand and tries to think when she hears the crunch of footsteps on fallen leaves just a little away. ]


Hey--! [ she steps out from behind a tree trunk and offers a small wave, looking as though trying not to be desperately awkward about this whole naked thing as she folds her arms over her chest. ] Please tell me you know what's going on.

[ ... ]

Or, like. Where I can get some pants?


OFFERINGS;
[ wow does she feel over-fucking-dressed. ]

[ julie's a bitch that likes layers, she can't help it. makes a joke about being canadian to one of the locals that falls on deaf ears — the polite smiling and nodding is somehow worse than if they'd just blanked it entirely. but whatever. at least she's not being forced to wear a skirt or something, that was a real worry when julie saw this place looked like it was from the fucking past. less of a worry when she saw how the people dressed though. ]

[ most people gravitate toward the more traditional hedonistic pursuits, understandably since that seems to be what this whole festival is about, but julie drifts toward one of the fighting rings instead. not to participate, but... stands in the crowd and watches in curious silence as two people beat the absolute shit out of eachother, head tilted in consideration despite the cheers of people standing around her. eyes tracking the surprisingly tender way the loser is taken care of by a few people once they're dragged out of the ring. ]

[ it reminds her of a lot of things and nothing at the same time, familiar at once and yet not at all. ]

[ no time to think on that though, not when someone's eyes meet hers and julie's expression brightens and she offers a nod in greeting. shuffling closer and raising her voice over the crowd. ]
You thinking of joining in? [ she teases, easy and light. ] Maybe I'll bet on you.


OFFERINGS; FOOD
[ listen, julie's no prude and generally unflappable, but she's still from a small, mountain town in the 90s, so having someone shove a vagina cupcake into her hands with a friendly smile is... well, it's a surprise. her eyes widen just a little when she realises what she's looking at, a small, short laugh bubbling out of her. ]

[ she kind of just walks around holding it in her hand, hesitant to eat something so carefully decorated even though she knows that's what it's for. she glances at some of the other food on display with raised eyebrows and turns to someone who also looks a little less than familiar with all this stuff. ]


They don't beat around the bush with this stuff, do they?

[ honestly she respects it. ]


WILDCARD;
[ whatever! pm me or get me at [plurk.com profile] firemansam if you wanna talk something over, but i'm pretty easy honestly. ]
nootherway: (062)

Offerings

[personal profile] nootherway 2023-07-16 02:05 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Normally, crowds put Leah on edge. They nag at her, like grit between her teeth. A taste of metal when she bites down, all these bodies in proximity. She hasn’t seen this many people packed in so tight since before the world ended. All of them laughing and reveling, maybe of them drunk. And not a single one dead, and rotting, or afraid of becoming that way.

Strange, that. Barely anyone here understands the scope of what they could lose.

But she heads out into the fray regardless, dressed in loose pants and a far more modest shirt than most around her favor. And she wraps her knuckles with care, her eyes on the ring. There are certain requirements to meet here. And that sharp-grit feeling between her teeth isn’t just for the crowd.

Sometimes, a woman needs to beat a stranger into the ground. You have to be sharp, my girl, Pope used to say. Can’t have anyone getting lazy, now can we?

No, sir. Certainly not.

Her gaze flicks to the girl. A stranger. But a watchful one. ]


Yes.

[ She doesn’t return the smile. But she watches the girl with a careful, practiced sort of threat assessment. ]

Are you?

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offerings; food 🧁🌸✨

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traumatizing: (Default)

terrance ward || marvel || niez

[personal profile] traumatizing 2023-07-16 07:41 am (UTC)(link)
IN THE WOODS; ARRIVAL
[ it's so fun to come to in a completely unfamiliar place, naked and with a pounding headache that comes with the fear of apparently a handful of other people pressing in at the sides of his head. terry groans and just sits in the dirt for a little while, head in his hands, making sure he's in control before he pulls himself to his feet and starts to move. ]

[ he'd look like a normal guy but for the scars, light for what they are but still visible — the Y-shape of an autopsy and a gnarly, jagged one across his stomach. that's last on his mind right now though, it's been a while since he was around anyone who'd find it that weird anyway. rather, terry's just trying to figure out what to do or where to go, subconsciously lured by the fear or the panic of whoever was nearest to him when he awoke, not even realising that's what he's doing until he sees said person. ]

[ ... sure. okay. why not? safety in numbers. terry raises his hands to signal he's not a threat, just in case. ]


I'm just as lost as you are, I promise. [ he shrugs a shoulder, with the barest hint of something like humour, he adds: ] Maybe more.


OFFERINGS FOR ULANTI
[ this is all way out of his wheelhouse, and while terry suspects that's true for a lot of people, he gets the feeling other people are handling it better than him. a vague question about clothes had him having to politely argue someone down from dressing him up in something obscene to a simple sheer button-down and a pair of tight-fitting pants — both black, obviously — and that really feels like it was an omen for the rest of his day. ]

[ confusion over him saying he doesn't drink leading to someone earnestly but unhelpfully offering alternatives when all he wanted was like. water? accidentally offending someone... he's still not sure how. now a query about some of the unfamiliar terms people use around here has him locked into a conversation with a local urging him to join one of the shows, obviously having taken his reticence for the kind of shyness that just wants someone to nudge them out of their comfort zone. ]

[ oh, you. you looked this way. as this well-meaning but oblivious person rambles on about why the live sex shows are great for you, terry locks eyes with an expression that says it all: help. please help. get me out of here. i don't know what to do. ]


THE FATHOMLESS DARK
[ it's simple, he's nosey, and people made it sound like he probably shouldn't go out there. so of course terry does. ]

[ in hindsight, he kind of wishes he'd brought a weapon, but it's too late for that now. (it's not too late at all.) terry settles for a branch or a stick or whatever that feels hefty enough it would hurt pretty goddamn badly to get hit in the head with. for a normal human anyway. ]

[ he moves slow and careful as if worried about setting off a tripmine or something, eyes darting around in the dark whenever he hears something skitter in the periphery. it's useless, can't see far enough to catch whatever it might be, but that doesn't stop his head from whipping around whenever he hears something. ]

[ at least he's primed to react, because there's a sudden spike of terror and without thinking terry bolts in that direction to find someone persued by a fuckoff huge spider that's already gotten some webbing around their foot. he very much continues not hesitating and runs at the thing, swings the stick hard enough to at least stun the spider long enough to grab his new buddy's arm and start pulling them in the direction he thinks is town. it's hard to be sure. ]


WILDCARD;
[ whatever! pm me or get me at [plurk.com profile] firemansam if you wanna talk something over, but i'm pretty easy honestly. heads up, terry can sense the fears of people around him which obviously i'm not gonna pry for or anything (it probably won't even come up beyond "this person is understandably scared right now") but if that's something you wanna play with just let me know or telegraph it in your tags! ]
shtf: (watchful)

bill • the last of us (tv) • wilk

[personal profile] shtf 2023-07-17 11:14 am (UTC)(link)
anything can happen in the woods

[ Being alone in the woods isn't exactly a bother to Bill. Hell, he's happiest there. Thing is, he spent his whole life readying himself for the worst to happen, and only once it did could he find happiness. And that's made him soft. Soft enough he's deeply unnerved by the loss of his clothes and guns. His carefully cultivated food, his carefully constructed shelter.

Oh, the steak and the wine and the music, that was all luxury he can stand to lose, but blacking out and getting dumped in the middle of nowhere with his hairy ass on display and nothing to fight off an Infected? Hard not to be frightened.

That's probably why there's a sharp stick to your throat right now. Whether you stumbled out of a bush or he snuck up on you, Bill knows the most dangerous thing out here is another person. He doesn't give a shit about nudity, or the rustle of spiders on the tree trunks, only keeping what little control of the situation he hes left.
]

Get down on your knees. Hands in the air. Easy now, wouldn't want to hurtcha.


it's the last midnight

(cw: anti-russian sentiment; mushroom horror; monster dick.)

[ Bill doesn't know it, but he's following a real tradition of Rubilykskoye hunters: the town gives him boots and leathers and weapons, and he brings back meat to trade for anything else he needs, and that's the entire amount of interaction he has with the village. Even that's only gonna be temporary, while he builds himself a new stockpile, digs a new shelter, starts a new garden. It doesn't matter to him if he's reinventing the wheel, replicating what already exists in the village. He doesn't want a community, and he doesn't need a community, can do fine out on his own.

God, he misses Frank. Every day his heart aches in a new way, when he wakes up alone in his makeshift bed.

That's why the transformation happens, of course. Bill's barely capable of holding a conversation when he comes into town, immediately dismissed all the zadza talk as communist propaganda, Ruski bullshit, and even if someone managed to make him listen he sure as hell isn't ready for a new relationship.

So now there's a bear in the forest, outside the town. Not just any bear; he's a big brown lumbering motherfucker, his fur salted with grey that makes it hard to spot the way cordyceps mushrooms tangle through it. They're in his throat, too, visible behind the sharp rows of teeth when he yawns, and they're contageous — not enough to start a full outbreak of infected, but the spores get under the skin and itch and breed, curling like an ingrown hair until you find one and pull it out like a disgusting tapeworm.

His eyes are intelligent, and if approached peacefully he'll lope over to have a sniff, all his deep loneliness surfaced into an animal cuddliness. Though men might find he starts to get a little too friendly, a hot breath of a snort over their skin, and his dick extends out of the fur above his balls, pink and rigid.

Of course, if he's not approached peacefully... well, the mushrooms give him a hair-trigger temper, and those claws and teeth can do some damage. And Bill is smart, smart enough to climb trees, figure out hiding places, and even open doors...
]


to go to the festival!

[ Okay, so maybe he needs to participate in this bullshit if he doesn't want to hurt anyone.

So here Bill is, in his hunter leathers and a broad-brimmed hat, looking awkwardly around the crowded festival. Uncomfortable beyond words.

Someone offers him a beer or some food and he takes it gratefully, glad for something to do with his hands. Except that only ends up making things worse; cock a fat bulge in his tight pants, words still stuck in his throat even as he looks longingly at a handsome young farmer displaying himself lewdly as part of a dance.

Maybe later he can be spotted shuffling awkwardly into the makeshift bathrooms. He's never used a gloryhole, but he knows what it is, and right now it seems like a good solution to his predicament.
]

You wanna go first or will I?

[ His voice is low and quiet, hand pressed to the wall in tight anxiety. ]




(( warning, bill is a libertarian prepper and he also comes from the mushroom zombie canon, just let me know if you need me to avoid any of that in the thread.

absolutely open to wildcards! especially mid-fuck starters using any of the prompts as backstory, or remixes, or if you wanna play with last month's wilk effects for fun, or we can handwave some established cr so he isn't so hung up on his husband. i love smut and horror let's goooo. ))
brothergoblin: (03)

Woods ( bill <3 )

[personal profile] brothergoblin 2023-07-17 12:07 pm (UTC)(link)
( ooc: Tyler's tw and basic info is here )

[ It's not that Tyler has no experience with being out in the wilderness. Growing up in Alaska asks for at least a decent level of survivalist instincts should you find yourself the wrong side of winter. He's pretty adept with tracking wildlife and fishing is something he's done since he was a single-digits kind of kid.

But waking up buck naked in the middle of a forest without any idea of how he got there is new. And problematic. In the moment he's too caught off-guard to be mad at himself for being snuck up on, but despite the order - "hands in the air" - he does what any person is likely to do. Cover themselves up as though that provides any sense of modesty. Who knows how much the stranger glimpsed to see what he doesn't have between his legs, but Tyler's hands reach down to cup his crotch in an effort to give himself some privacy regardless. At least all that's left from a chest that had never felt right is the two reasonably fresh scars from surgery. ]


Like fuck am I going to get on my knees.

[ There's a quality to his voice that's pure fear, too laced into his tone for him to cover up. ]

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in the woods!

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meds4sale: (Grasping danger)

The Medicine Seller | Mononoke | Wilk

[personal profile] meds4sale 2023-07-18 07:19 am (UTC)(link)
I. Into the Woods
A. Good Morning, Sunshine
It's not the worst place the Medicine Seller has ever woken up, stripped of his clothing and other paraphernalia. From personal experience, he knows things could be so much more unpleasant.

That's what the optimist in him is saying. It's a tiny voice, drowned out quickly by his annoyance when he has to brush bits of forest debris from places he's prefer forest debris never wound up.

Lucky for him, he is a creature born to the wild places of the world, and he is right at home in a forest such as this. It even bears a peculiar and eerie feeling, not so unalike to what he felt set adrift on the sea of ayakashi or in the depths of Aokigahara. The familiarity soothes something in him; a beast in its natural habitat.

He shakes off the puzzling emotion that clouds his mind. Something deeper in the woods, where the shadows grow thicker than the foliage, is calling. But he is not equipped to deal with such matters at the moment. The thing beyond feels old to him in a way he cannot describe. It will keep for the time it takes to get his bearings.

When he hears a groan, he heads towards the source of the noise; perhaps someone who also just woke up, or met with a small hiking accident? Who knows? He certainly doesn't.


B. Wish Away, Wish Away
The stream is a windfall for a person naked and covered in dirt. It is also a stern reminder as to why he washes his hair in places he has some relative guarantee of safety and not in the middle of a spooky forest crawling with strange critters. It had gone from manageable to nearly double its weight once wet. At least he got all the twigs and leaves out.

He is seated on a sunny rock in the middle of the stream, combing his fingers through the sheer mass of wild hair so that it will dry faster. He resembles something otherworldly, sitting there in the dappled sunlight and swinging his feet lazily in the cool water, like some kind of forest nymph or something of that ilk.

When he looks up from his meticulous grooming, he spots another; perhaps they're there to get a refreshing drink, or to take a soak of their own, or just enjoy the show. Whatever the case, the Medicine Seller offers them a courteous nod, but little else.

When the water goes from cool to frigid, and particles of ice form along his hair and eyelashes, he knows something has gone wrong. A creature, like a sarugami but also different, bursts from the frosted-over foliage, charging at what it thinks will be an easy dinner.


C. Out of the Spiderverse
He really only wanted to collect some spider silk. It is one of the best things for bandages with little competition. Its composition is sturdy, its absorbancy is superb, and he finds it prevents wounds going septic far better than anything else.

Of course, such a splendid material would not be so easy to get a hold of would it? Despite its apparent abundance in this neck of the woods? The trees are practically choked with spider webs!

He had, at first, thought he'd stumbled upon the nest of a jorogumo. What good luck that would have been - such yokai are often amenable to bargaining, so long as one flatters their vanity with pretty trinkets and jewelry.

No, he must have done something quite grievous, because karma in the shape of a small horde of enormous, aggressive, crimson spiders is trying to nip him in the rear as he beats a hasty retreat, arms full of spools of spider silk.

Up ahead, he spots a ravine that overlooks the main path to the town, and takes a leap of faith, and skids down the steep slope, kicking up rocks and debris, and young branches whipping him in the face, before his decent abruptly stops, sending him careening forward and tumbling into another person.

Well, he's made more graceful entrances.

The Medicine Seller does not spare much time for his wounded pride, chancing a glance over his shoulder. The spiders are still in hot pursuit, though a few of their brethren have tripped up on the steep incline and are rolling gracelessly down towards the path.

He looks to the other, seemingly unbothered despite his disheveled state.

"Run."



Feasts, Fetes, Festivities
A. Familiarity Breeds...?
The Medicine Seller has always liked the kind of food you can eat walking around. He enjoys both the former and the latter, so combining them into one delicious pastime is, he thinks, one of humanity's finer feats of ingenuity.

"Dick on Stick" the vendor had called it. It was some sort of sweet fried dough stuffed with a savoury spiced sausage and was to be dipped in a spicy honey-mustard. It had, indeed, looked like a phallus before it had gone in the hot oil. If someone had told him the thing that came out was supposed to be a penis, he'd have solemnly recommended amputation. It was bulbous in strange places, with little crunchy bubbles.

It was also delicious.

There was also a distinctive aftertaste that was all too familiar. Some of the aphrodisiacs he sold were not actually scams to cheat the aged and wealthy out of their hard-stolen riches; there was no doubt in his mind the sausage was seasoned with something similar to his merchandise.

"Be careful of the food," he warns someone else who may have purchased Dick on a Stick, or one of those delightfully yonic cupcakes. "It is more than their appearance that may induce... fervor."


B. What's the Story Morning Glory Hole?
While the food sated his hunger, it has also had the unfortunate side-effect of working up a wholly different kind of appetite. The Medicine Seller was never one for prudishness, but he does know his tastes and the cages and collars were to them at all. For all his airs and elegance, he preferred something more down-to-earth.

The glory holes provided that in spades, with enough anonymity to lend a fun little air of mystery and intrigue. He purchases a book of erotica, picks a stall, and plops himself down on a stool to see if anything of interest will appear on the other side of the hole or push itself through.

If not, he'll find a partner the old fashioned way. He's not terribly picky.
Edited 2023-07-18 07:25 (UTC)
pickaxe: mine — dnt (16212068)

into the woods ( a )

[personal profile] pickaxe 2023-07-19 04:43 am (UTC)(link)
An ache reverberates through Tom's body the moment he regains consciousness. He's injured, that much is obvious, but the rest eludes him, lost in a haze of fragmented memories. He's well acquainted with the experience of awakening in unfamiliar surroundings, leaving him disoriented and questioning his purpose.

But this—this is different.

Lifting a hand, he winces as he drags it down his face, pain accompanying the realization of multiple small wounds. A gash just above his left eyebrow, a cluster gracing his right cheekbone and temple. He looks like he got the shit beat out of him, and well, that fucking tracks. A better look at him and one might notice a scattering of bruises only beginning to take form along his body—his legs, his rib cage, and most notably, his back.

One might also notice the ⍢ mark, just below his left collarbone.

For half a second, he believes he's where he last was, but the trees are all wrong, the cold is wrong, everything is wrong. Another half second, and he becomes acutely aware of his complete and utter nakedness, skin prickling in response to the chill that seeps in. Tom musters the strength to sit up, exacerbating the ache, and drawing out a pained groan that echoes through the sentinels of the forest. "Fuck," He hisses, a harsh whisper that escapes through clenched teeth. Pushing himself further, he props a hand behind him, determined to find his bearings—but the snap of twigs underfoot alert him to another's presence.

Holding his breath, wide eyes dart through the trees. Now is not the fucking time to test his sanity.

He gets an eyeful of the other man weaving, drifting through the shadows cast by the canopy. His lack of clothing quickly becomes an afterthought, it's his overall appearance that really makes Tom question if he's awake. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, that—that's close enough." He might actually sound intimidating, if his voice didn't waver.

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