TEST DRIVE MEME 003

[rubimods]

⚰︎ ⍢ ⌲ ⍚ 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: characters arriving in September's application round will arrive in the midst of a two-part event that will continue through October. Players may date their character's arrival any time from September 8th onward.

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: disorientation, loss of direction, hallucinations, time distortion/lost time, aphrodisiacs, group sex, dubious consent, cannibalism and cannibalistic urges, spiders, bondage/restraint, loss of autonomy, body horror, sadism, torture, cult behavior, assault, arson, caging, free use, and public sex.

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.

FAQ ✧ SETTING ✧ CALENDAR ✧ RESERVES ✧ APPLICATIONS

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.

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.

You may start out alone, or among others sharing stories just like yours, or you may run into others who are fully clothed and ready for a strange expedition ...

LOST WOODS:

The expedition party made their way into the woods on September 14th expecting a direct route to the Void. Instead, they've found themselves lost and disoriented.

Their navigational tools seem useless, leading them around in circles as ancient trees, caves, water sources, and other reliable landmarks do not align with the maps. Trees seem to move — didn't you see that exact deer drinking from the brook a quarter mile ago? The ever-changing and impenetrable maze of the woods may separate characters from one another, or get them so lost that they wind up back at the edge of the wood, staring at castle walls or farmlands.

With no easy measure of their progress, and the treetops obscuring the light, time feels dilated. Characters may feel they've been in the woods for hours when it has been days, or for weeks when it has been hours. The amount of time that passes in the woods will be individualized for each character, and will not match the full month that passes for characters back in town.

DON'T SMELL THE FLOWERS:

While some folx are being turned around and sent back to start, those that make it deeper are in perhaps worse shape. The dilated time and the circuitous nature of their efforts may stretch their week's worth of rations too thin, driving them to rely upon foraged mosses and fruits for sustenance. The woods are full of fungi and edible flora with aphrodisiac side effects like increased bloodflow, heightened arousal, and increased tactile sensitivity.

Much like the animals afflicted by the Void, the plant-life here grows strange. The deeper they go, the more troubling the side effects of their foraged sustenance becomes.

Deep in the forest they may find:

• A moss that makes them hallucinate an idealized sexual experience from deep in their repressed subconscious, which they will determinedly act out.


• The pulsing fruits that grow amongst this moss will render them desperate to orgasm as if they have been edged for hours, but they will find themselves physically incapable of doing so — unless they succumb to its secondary effect, the hunger for still-warm human flesh.


• A nut that grows in bushes leaves those who eat it unable to feel satisfied by just a single partner, seeking out threesomes and moresomes with a lost hiker or another pair.

The more of these that an individual consumes, the more pronounced the effects as their secretions build up in the body over time. It may become a common sight to find a friend tucked behind a tree, stark naked and desperately masturbating.

REVENGE OF THE SPIDERS:

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.

However, some of the clothed expeditioners will be able to tell you that the Duchess of the nearby town has a special relationship to these spiders, and players should expect their treatment of the spiders to influence future events

BORDER CROSSING:

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.

There are risks associated with Void proximity: increased aggression, paranoia, emotional instability, accelerated monster transformations, and hallucinations.

As the time dilation worsens, characters' monstrous transformations may happen in uneven stages. For instance, a character may manifest a physical aspect or supernatural ability or urge that suits their fully transformed state even if the other aspects of them remain human. These changes can happen totally unprompted, or as a result of their generalized Void proximity symptoms.

Even untransformed, the closer they get to the Void, the more intensely those on the expedition feel intrusive violent and sadistic urges — not just to lash out at others suddenly, but also a fascination with inflicting pain (emotional or physical) that may or may not be erotic in nature. This sadism seems especially potent in anyone with a Niez mark. Those who notice the pattern may be inclined to urge some of their friends to turn back now, before they reach the Void ...

writer's block?

If you're struggling to pick a way to engage the prompts, try: naked hiking, fighting or getting webbed up by spiders, acting out a hallucination, or grappling with aphrodisiac flower symptoms!

TOWNIE TROUBLES

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.


BUNKING UP:

The locals may still direct newcomers 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.

Don't spend too much time exploring, 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.

ON THURSDAY WE HAVE ORGIES:

On Thursdays, religious ceremony spills into the streets as soon as the sun and the children are safely abed. Dancing locals paint 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! 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.

The folks dancing and selling their wares are all offering their energies to give thanks and ask for their god's patronage! The abstractions are all familiar — fertility, harvest, peace. Smalltalk makes them eager to chat and draw you into those festivities — including some ceremonial wax-dripping on the exposed parts of your 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.

CULT CONSCIOUSNESS:

Usually, the people of the town are very generous, but the atmosphere of the town this month is a little ... darker.

Word has spread around town that some of the void-touched chose to remain behind, and perceptions turn critical rather quickly. Even those who thought they might offer support in alternative ways, or who weren't quite up for making the trek for various valid reasons, will be seen as refusing to help the Duchess. The townspeople increasingly consider those who stayed behind to be a threat to their beloved matriarch.

This unpopularity has consequences, as the townspeople of Rubilykskoye not only see no problem with acting upon their everyday violent urges, but feel that it's their civic duty! Newcomers who are just settling in won't be spared either, as they're found guilty by association for emerging from the wood instead of staying within it to join up with the expedition team.

As a result, the void-touched who stay behind will be targeted for everyday acts of violence and intimidation: they may be attacked on their way to work, or at the tavern. One reckless individual tries to set the boarding house aflame. Players are welcome to invent and resolve their own conflicts here, but please make sure to reach out to a moderator if you feel it might be something that leads to meaningful consequences.

This behavior escalates over the course of the month, and by mid-month, the blacksmith has produced a number of stocks and human-sized cages to sit out in the town square. NPC townspeople will not hesitate to gang up on the void-touched, strip them, and throw them into these devices to 'learn a lesson' about being a part of this community. Similarly, the townspeople see no issue with sating their sexual urges with the folx who are caged, whether they're willing or not.

writer's block?

If you're struggling to pick a way to engage the prompts, try: acquiring clothing or other inventory items, staking your claim on a bedroom, or wrassling with a local who's trying to throw that character into a cage!

Comments

[otherbitches]

[ Wanda was right. The place is abandoned. It's musty too, which fits the storefront he guesses. Billy was never a big reader, besides magazines and pulpy paperbacks. The smell reminds him, ever so slightly, of the record stores back home, piled high with tapes and 8-tracks and pressed vinyl, heavy metal magazines sat in fat piles. There's nothing like that here. ]

Billy Hargrove. What's yours, sweetheart?

[ The smarm comes back easily. He leans back against the shop's counter, watching her. watching what she's doing, how careful she's being. ] If you can do all that... 'magic,' why don't you just stop them?

[ It had happened so quickly. Red light, the bodies thrown backward... ]

[explosion]

I can't stop all of them.

[ A bald-face lie. Wanda can make them stop with a simple twitch of her brow. It'd be effortless; they could all stop as if paused by a remote.

She lingers by the window before turning away, noting how he's made himself somewhat comfortable by the counter. She won't begrudge him how he prefers to behave in a distressing situation.

Belatedly, ] I'm Wanda. [ She furrows her brows slightly as she regards him. ] You're not afraid?

[ Of her. If he isn't, perhaps he's used to strange displays like what she's capable of. The question's left open-ended on purpose. ]

[otherbitches]

[ He can't catch the lie. Takes it as fact for now, not that he should trust anyone here, but she's done enough to earn a little. ]

Of what? This town-? You?

[ An honest answer: of course he's scared. The last thing he remembers is being possessed, hunting down a little girl at a monster's behest, dying after having control back for a split second. Now he's here, and it's terrifying. She might be terrifying too if he knew better. ]

You're on my side, aren't you?

Why'd you even get involved?

[explosion]

Because you needed help.

[ To her, the answer is simple.

Wanda walks around the counter and starts looking beneath it for something. Anything sharp, like a knife or pair of scissors, and anything he could use to distract the townspeople. Given the size of his arms, he could possibly get away with throwing books at them. ]

Most people are a little scared when they can see what I do.

[ She peers up from the counter at him. ]

Not you. That's good; you'll at least be able to deal with this town.

[otherbitches]

[ Things are rarely that easy. His brows narrow, mouth pulled into an unhappy look for just a moment too long. People are rarely that altruistic, that kind. Usually they want something. Wanda seems powerful. He doesn't know what she wants. ]

Yeah, not me. [ And if it sounds a little sarcastic, well, he'd never admit his fears. ]

What's the deal with this town? You're not from here either.

[explosion]

It's…

[ She exhales a little roughly, not quite sure where to start. Does it even have a start? Most stories have some sort of beginning and ending, but Wanda's not quite sure where the information she knows about this town is best positioned. ]

We're in an alternate world—another universe. One that runs parallel to ours.

[ Is that how Vision would describe it? No, he'd use more words, some with more syllables. He'd lose Billy entirely, not because Billy doesn't look smart. He loses Wanda quite a lot with his ramblings. ]

This town seems built on magic and a specific kind of energy, usually stimulated by sex. That's why the townspeople want to strip you and shove you in a cage.

[ Might as well get the big fish out of the way. ]

[otherbitches]

[ Billy's stood in an alternate universe before, he thinks. Remembers the way reality seemed to shudder, the air went clammy, a clock droned on. And he saw— himself. It makes him uneasy. Makes him queasy. He has no answers for what happened in Hawkins and no answers for what's happening here. ]

Yeah, that's all? [ Said cocky, hip still pressed against the counter, head tilted to watch her rummage. ] They want to fuck us? Or they want us to fuck. [ Stress on 'us.' He looks at her, blue eyes half-lidded. ]

[explosion]

Both.

[ It's the simplest answer, even if Wanda's never touched one of the townspeople. ]

They say that if you have sex or are violent, you keep the inner monster away.

[ It's said with a completely straight face, even though there's something to her tone that suggests she's making fun of it a little bit. She doesn't doubt it—she's seen friends turn into beasts she knows they're truly not—but…

It's so bizarre to talk about—and this is the girl who married a synthezoid.

She looks up at him. ]

When they're not in a shitty mood, you'll find the townspeople are very sexually liberated. There's at least a festival every month with those holes you shove your dick into.

[ Gloryholes, Wanda. ]

[otherbitches]

[ Monsters. Monsters. It feels unreal, fantasy, like the stupid shit Maxine used to read in her comics. Maybe he'd clock all this for a drugged-out dream, except, he knows that monsters are real. Big ones, small ones, ones that settled under his skin. One that he'll become if he doesn't— ]

What? The holes you—? [ His head goes back and he laughs. Back home, the older, hotter women he'd hit on would never bring up something so uncouth. It kind of sounds like a cackle. ] Yeah? What do you think of those?

[explosion]

[ Wanda huffs, smiling brightly and laughing in embarrassment at his cackle. Her cheeks flush, but she plants her hands on her hips and regards him sternly. ]

Why are you laughing?

[ — at her, William! 😤 ]

[otherbitches]

[ Sorry, Wanda. That kind of does it for him. He shrugs. ] What? Beautiful woman like you saying something so filthy? Took me by surprise.

[ He's still grinning. ] What'd you think?

[explosion]

[ Finding time to hit on her while experiencing a town-level crisis? Gold star, Billy.

Although she flushes slightly at his compliment—it's hardly expected, and after what she displayed, no one chooses to then hit on her when stepping away and being afraid is an option—she regards him with a slight narrowing of her eyes. What's going to shock him the most?

Honesty. ]

I prefer the cages. At least you can see who's about to fuck you.

[otherbitches]

[ He's always going for gold, Wanda, but the mention of the cages still make him blanche. He might be a bit of a hedonist, but given how he grew up, knowing the town is sexually liberated doesn't put him at ease. It's not just hot women who want to fuck him. ]

If you can do what you can do— [ he pauses, considers her. ] Why were they able to cage you?

[explosion]

[ Fear, but not for the reasons one may think. She looks away from him and opens a drawer she's already searched through, looking for something to hand over to him to use as a weapon. ]

They got the better of me, and there are too many of them.

[ Partly true, the latter a bald-faced lie (again). Mostly, Wanda's afraid of using the full extent of her powers on the people of this town. She wants to be better. She can be better. Vision's voice is in her head, reprimanding her for tightening her hold on her puppets' strings rather than loosening them. ]

I've broken almost every cage they put me in. I think they will run out eventually.

[otherbitches]

Keep breaking them. [ He takes it as truth. He doesn't think she has reason to lie, even if he doesn't understand. Regardless of what he knows, he'd like to see her break a cage.

She's still rummaging. ] What are you looking for?

[explosion]

Something for you to use against them.

[ It may be what prevents him from getting taken the next time he's caught unaware. Not everyone's like her—and she thinks that's both an advantage and disadvantage.

She looks up at him, although her gaze settles on his arms. ]

Are you good with your hands? You seem to have decent arms. They'll think you are strong because of them and grab you from there.

[otherbitches]

Been told I'm good with my hands. Strong too. Could pick you up easy. [ They were strong enough to break Steve Harrington's nose half a year ago, strong enough to knock him out. While possessed, he'd been strong enough to chase down that girl, toss that boy against a wall. If his expression shutters a little at Wanda's words, so be it.

He comes closer. Looks at what she's looking over. Some writing instruments, a letter opener that is only somewhat promising, other bits and bobs from the store. ] Not sure what any of this is going to do. I'll just—

[ Be better next time. It's what his father would tell him to do. Stop being a pussy and man up, and— There are voices out on the street, they're coming closer, the door knob rattles. ]

[explosion]

[ Peering at the door, Wanda reaches for the letter opener and hands it to him. ]

Better than nothing.

[ Even if he doesn't take it, she wraps her fingers lightly around his wrist and tugs him away from the counter and into one of the small aisles.

The rattling remains loud, although it doesn't grow desperate. Wanda's controlling the townspeople outside— ] There are about three of them. [ She says it like it's so obvious by the rattling. Some grunting accompanies it, but it's still difficult to discern how many people are trying to get into the bookstore from sound alone.

Wanda does her best not to appear too frightened by it. They'll get out of here. They always do. ]

They'll get in eventually. We should make it look like we went a different way.

[ Once they're at the end of the aisle, she tugs him to the right toward the window. ]

How good are you at throwing things through windows?

[otherbitches]

[ He's not stupid enough not to take the letter opener. Billy acts hard, but all the violence he's committed has been at the end of his fists. But... he could.

He doesn't ask how she knows how many are out there. Magic trick. At the window, he squints at her question before he laughs. ]

Might surprise you, but I was kind of shit at baseball. [ He broke plenty of windows that way before he weaseled out of little league. His impulse control slips. His eyes slide to the side, then he grabs a wooden chair and throws it hard against the window. It shatters, but a leg is half stuck in the heavy pane. He shoves against it, glass creaking as it fully gives, chair falling outward.

He sets one hand on the window sill, ready to hoist himself out when he stops, looks at her expectedly. ] Wait, which way are we going?

[explosion]

The other way.

[ She cocks her head back the way they'd come and gently tugs him away from the window, taking his hand in hers again without thought. With quiet steps, she hears the commotion at the door growing louder. It'd be easy to subdue them. All it'd take is a simple thought, but Wanda's trying so hard not to do to the people of this town what she did to Westview.

Even though the residents of Westview had been kinder.

She guides him to the very back of the store, searching for the back door she's seen a few times when coming into the bookstore only to leave empty-handed. Rather than wait until they're close enough for her to open the door with her hand, red curls around the handle, and it tugs open by an invisible hand. ]

Hopefully, they'll draw enough attention that anyone near the bookstore will be more interested in coming in than staying out. [ She figures it's probably a good time to speak on her plan. She's not Steve by any means, but she thinks this is what he'd do (other than confront them and try and talk some sense into them). ] We can make a run for it.

[otherbitches]

[ Neither of their Steves are here to charm the villagers. And if you asked Billy, his Steve couldn’t charm a paid whore.

She takes his hand again, and there’s a part of him that wants to shake her off. He never let the girls at home hold his hand, didn’t want them to think he was going to ask them to prom. But Wanda’s hand is small and warm and strong. Strangely calming. Motherly. He let’s himself be tugged. ]

Alright. I like it. Where we headed, baby?

[ He doesn’t look anything like his old self, no tight denim, no polished leather boots, a torn shirt and in hostile lands. But he grins, mouth corkscrewing up at the corner. ]

[explosion]

[ Although she glances at him with a slightly cocked brow, she can't deny the little spark of heat that little pet name shoots through her. The corner of her lip curves upward. ]

Away from here.

[ She enjoys giving non-answers sometimes. ]

Maybe the woods. I don't think they'll follow us there.

[ Considering how none of the townspeople were positioning themselves on the outskirts of the woods, Wanda thinks that might be safe. Perhaps it'll give them some reprieve and to take stock of the town at large.

She guides them through the bookstore's backroom, blindly following what she thinks is the way out to the back door. The front door bursts open with a loud shout. The townspeople—primarily men, their voices deep—charge into the bookstore, shouting for them.

Wanda tugs on his hand as she flicks the back door open with a soft sea of red magical tendrils to reveal a deserted alleyway. ]

[otherbitches]

[ Typically he doesn't like non-answers. He isn't sure what it is about Wanda that makes him keep level, maybe a need to impress her. And he does want to impress her. Though he blanches ever so noticeably when she mentions the woods. Doesn't have time to comment on it, not when the door opens with a crack.

The letter opener is tight in his grip when he's tugged out of the shop by her hand, as they take flight back into town. They make their run for it, briefly dodging a pair of less hostile villagers, who jump and drop their laundry when the two of them rush past. There are others, perhaps more hostile, who look up and consider how suspicious they look. Which is very, but they're already ahead of them.

So, they run, feet thumping on the ground in time with Billy's heart, and when they're on the edge of town, the forest yawning before them, he's not so out of breath. That's not what makes him put his hands on his knees, cast his head down. ]

Jesus. [ Oh, he's laughing again. And when he looks up at her, laughing, it's with an expression of someone who really isn't sure they're not dreaming. ] This is fucking insane. You do know that right?

[explosion]

[ Furrowing her brows, she cracks a smile before she chuckles. Keeping an eye on the town a little ways away, she doesn't trust any of the townspeople not to come crawling to the perimeter in search of them. Their kindness and enthusiasm have twisted into something ugly and frightening now. Wanda wouldn't put it past them to gather their pitchforks and take to the woods if most of the Void-touched fled into its arms.

But they're safe here. Their thoughts are softer, although Wanda can hear the whisperings of a familiar one on the surface of the shell of her ear. So, it would appear that our dream home has been reduced to a fixer-upper.

Hm, no. ]

Yes.

[ Looking at Billy, she lets herself laugh. When did she last laugh at a stressful situation? It's been so long, she can't remember if it was in Scotland with Vision or long before then. ]

But it's not the strangest thing to happen. [ With a shrug, she offers playfully, ] They could be serial killers dressed in ugly, deformed Halloween masks.

[ Or aliens. Wanda fucking hates aliens. ]

[otherbitches]

[ Wanda laughs and he preens a little internally. Externally, he's all smug smile. Boyish charm. It's there, even under the grime of interdimensional travel, the shadow of death, whatever all this shit is. ]

I guess so. Still think I'd prefer Mike Myers. He's straight forward.

[ The metal from the letter opener feels warm against his palm. ] But it's still pretty fucking strange. [ Magic trick. ] But, maybe not for you.