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TEST DRIVE MEME 004
⚰︎ ⍢ ⌲ ⍚ 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: spiders, animated skeletons, aphrodisiac effects, exhibitionism/voyeurism, bdsm, kink negotiation, knifeplay, potential dismemberment.
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
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: spiders, animated skeletons, aphrodisiac effects, exhibitionism/voyeurism, bdsm, kink negotiation, knifeplay, potential dismemberment.
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.
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 despite the growing chill.
wildlife encounters
The longer you hike, the more unsettling sights await you: animal remains, some partially stripped of their flesh or discarded entrails left exposed to the cold. As you continue on your way, you might even swear you catch a glimpse of what appears to be a fully-formed skeletal creature observing you from a distance. Surely, that’s just your mind playing tricks on you... These creatures may be unsettling, but they show no signs of aggression to folks who keep their distance.
In the forest, 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. It's already full of people who appeared in the village just as you did today.
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!
RECUMITA
The festival fills the streets with dancing locals and all the stuffs of a street market. Despite the challenges posed by the snow-in-summer, farmers are grateful to announce that the situation is not as dire as initially feared. As a result, the harvest festival of Recūmita becomes a celebration of unity and gratitude to their fellow townspeople for salvaging an almost-frozen harvest, the Duchess' magic for protecting and reviving it, and the 'Void-Touched' who braved the Void to strengthen her.Over the weekend, all regular work is put on hold, except for the necessary festival preparations. The streets come alive with vibrant stalls and stands, offering a wide array of delectable treats and refreshing beverages. From barrels of beer and cups of kvas to mouthwatering roasted meats, delightful squash-based dishes like pumpkin latkes, honey-glazed brussel sprouts on skewers, hot borscht in both pork and vegetarian variations, and tantalizing mushrooms stuffed with leeks, cranberries, and bryndza cheese, there is an abundance of flavors to indulge in.
The first day of the festival transforms the streets into a bustling night market, where shopkeepers organize an assortment of carnival-style games. Test your strength in arm-wrestling contests or challenge your pain tolerance in contests where individuals whip each other to determine who yields first, whether to pain or pleasure. In one corner, Terry's Rubean student sets up an unsanctioned fighting tournament, while in another area, a path of hot coals awaits the daring souls who wish to traverse it. Instead of traditional pie-throwing stands, knife-throwing stands attract participants who willingly become targets.
Enthusiastic Rubeans, particularly those involved in integrating the Void-touched, take it upon themselves to enhance the festivities. They recruit local participants and willing Void-touched individuals to partake in an impromptu stage performance, with no need for rehearsals. Come as you are and join the spectacle! Once the performance begins, the passion and excitement behind their efforts become truly evident, as all the performances call for explicitly sexual or violent acts to be performed together.
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
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.
Rubilykskoye's performance troupe is thrown into a state of panic as they make a shocking discovery: Vyanchaslav, their unofficial manager and conductor, has vanished without a trace! Vyanchaslav plays a crucial role in the troupe, overseeing small inter-troupe matters and having the final say on casting and rehearsal time. He is known for his reliability, making his sudden disappearance all the more perplexing, especially right before a major event.
The last time anyone saw Vyanchaslav was in their usual rehearsal space, just before a crucial run-through of their upcoming performance. His absence during that rehearsal was highly unusual, and it left the troupe members worried and confused. They are now frantically trying to piece together what might have happened to him.
As they search for Vyanchaslav, they notice a faint sound lingering in the air – the distant whine of a fiddle. However, there is something unsettling about it. As they follow the source of the sound, the room grows darker, and an eerie chill runs down their spines. Those who draw close enough to properly hear Vyanchaslav's song will feel inclined to dance themselves til their feet bleed, til their lungs give out. That is, provided they don't cut a devil's bargain with him first, selling something else to the devil in exchange for their freedom.
(There are other monsters lurking in every townsperson — feel free to invent your own npc monsters and scenarios!)
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
Rubilykskoye's performance troupe is thrown into a state of panic as they make a shocking discovery: Vyanchaslav, their unofficial manager and conductor, has vanished without a trace! Vyanchaslav plays a crucial role in the troupe, overseeing small inter-troupe matters and having the final say on casting and rehearsal time. He is known for his reliability, making his sudden disappearance all the more perplexing, especially right before a major event.The last time anyone saw Vyanchaslav was in their usual rehearsal space, just before a crucial run-through of their upcoming performance. His absence during that rehearsal was highly unusual, and it left the troupe members worried and confused. They are now frantically trying to piece together what might have happened to him.
As they search for Vyanchaslav, they notice a faint sound lingering in the air – the distant whine of a fiddle. However, there is something unsettling about it. As they follow the source of the sound, the room grows darker, and an eerie chill runs down their spines. Those who draw close enough to properly hear Vyanchaslav's song will feel inclined to dance themselves til their feet bleed, til their lungs give out. That is, provided they don't cut a devil's bargain with him first, selling something else to the devil in exchange for their freedom.
(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?
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?
no subject
With his hand lingering for a few seconds more until he's convinced the elf's back on steady feet, eventually he loosens his grip and tugs the cloak around him a bit tighter.
"You get arrested for shit like that where I'm from. Can't just go striding about town with your sausage and beans hanging out."
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"You'll find somewhere on your body is a peculiar mark. Something like a brand you don't remember being burned with. That denotes you among a certain group within the culture here. In order to survive, you'll need to follow the local customs or that mark will harm you and those around you with great force of magic."
Of course it was only a matter of time before the elf would drop the word "magic" into this conversation.
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He might need some help looking for his mark considering the selection of ink he's already sporting. Though the mark of Wilk sits atop his spine on the back of his neck, clearly separated from the rest of his tattoos.
The idea of having a tattoo to signify belonging to a certain gang isn't a foreign one. Though anybody putting a tattoo on his body he didn't ask for is shit. He hates that.
He wants to ask what kind of group but gets caught and stumbles over magic. Scratch that first question, this one is more important:
"Magic? ...come again?"
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"Yes, of course. What else could explain how we got here?" he looks even more confused, questing back, "You know elves, but not magic?"
That doesn't make any sense.
no subject
His frustration is suddenly palpable, especially at the assertion of what else could it be. Mostly it's his brain flipping out at the very big ideas being floated here that are incredibly uncomfortable to try and fathom.
This is worldview breaking in the most dramatic way.
"Or maybe I'm dead. Yeah, maybe I'm in a steaming wreck somewhere... that would make more sense than magic being fucking real."
no subject
"This might be an afterlife of sorts, yes," he says casually, not dismissing the idea in the slightest. He swore he must have died in the invasion of Stilmyst when he first arrived, too. It's a natural conclusion to make, "but you are very much alive here. I heed you be careful to not squander that life with reckless abandoned," Ankari is not really one to talk, given his behavior, but listen... do as he says not as he does.
no subject
Not that he'd prefer to talk about the afterlife either but at some point he needs to pick himself up by the bootstraps and either wake up or crack the fuck on.
"You on commission for this or something? Notice you do a lot of heeding."
no subject
He'll neglect to mention he's the town narc, but it's so there's some order in this chaotic world, okay.
no subject
The only reason Bob sounds doubtful is that he's struggling to imagine never setting eyes on the stupid tossers he calls his mates again. Or his family.
His life isn't perfect and a lot of people would probably think it's not a good life at all, but it's what he knows. What he's known since he was a kid.
"Don't you have anybody who misses you?"
This last question is what actually strikes a deep ache in his chest at the idea that he really is here on his own without any of the people he cares about. What the fuck is he supposed to do without them?
no subject
They emerge from the forest into a clearing and the town is finally visible, the quaint village drastically archaic for what Bob is used to, but not looking strange for an elf to be standing against the backdrop of.
"I'll hope we can get those who wish to return to their homes back safe... but for now, it is best to settle in and survive until then. You humans are very quick to adapt, aren't you?"
no subject
"This is some Blackadder shit."
He isn't expecting the reference to make sense but come on. There isn't a Ford Fiesta in sight.
"This is-- where am I supposed to go now?"
no subject
"We'll set you up with more proper clothing of your own and you may pick a room to stay in, though you may need a bunk mate... especially if more new comers appear in your wake, the space could fill up rather quickly."
no subject
But walking down a street with nothing but a cloak and his hands to keep him modest is something else completely.
What really sends him over the edge is that there are kids around and that's the moment he actually jumps behind Ankari in an attempt to shield them from him.
"Yeah clothes would be good. Very, very good."
He can't think about the idea of finding somewhere to sleep and sharing a room when he's very naked in the middle of an actually populated area now.
"Can we do clothes first?"
no subject
"They will offer you enough to get you covered up, though I'll again heed," he has a lot of heeding, after all, so may as well lean into it with a cheeky tone, "to afford anything more substantial than a thin tunic and some short trousers, you'll need to find yourself some work. Have you any common skills that would be useful to a village?"
no subject
"What's useful to a village? 'cause I don't see no traffic lights or roundabouts."
Not that he really thinks either of those things fit into what popular culture has taught him is relevant to an elf. Unless...
"Wait... do you have cars?"
no subject
"Is that shorthand for carriage?"
no subject
It takes him a moment to decide that yeah, it must be.
"Yeah but not like that," he says and points at a cart that's clearly made for a horse with no horse in sight, but that doesn't make a difference.
"As in... motor vehicles. To carry people from point A to point B. Without a horse."
no subject
Sorry, he's got nothing here for you Bob, he's mostly just confused in turn.
no subject
"I can memorise routes well enough to make deliveries."
It's not the most obvious of picks but he's trying to pull some downtime money making schemes to the forefront of his mind. All the while his eyes peeled for anything that looks remotely like a hostel.
no subject
"If you can drive a carriage, all the better. I don't know many who hold claim to that talent."
no subject
"Seriously?"
Eventually what he picks is the longest shorts he can find that only reach mid-thigh and a short-sleeved tunic that's tight around the shoulders. It's immediately uncomfortable and, for somebody as tactile as he is, will get old fast if not torn. The footwear leaves just as much to be desired, the only pair that fits him with a very obvious hole in the sole.
Now that he's at least modest, if a touch on the chilly side, he hands Ankari's cloak back to him, folded messily but... an attempt was made. As if on cue, his belly growls aggressively.
no subject
"Borrow it until you have something of your own," he offers, before that belly growl interjects. Ankari chuckles softly, gesturing again further down the hall. Seems there's always a next place to take the newcomer, "I'm hungry as well, we have a mess hall for meals just two doors that way. Would you like to join me?"
no subject
"Cheers, that's proper nice of you."
If he picked up any tension at all in the conversation with the local, apparently his attention has been swallowed up by the status of his stomach instead.
"Yeah, 'course. And just so I know..." he glances around to check they're out of earshot of anybody else, "is this going to be an eat and run kind of thing? 'cause I don't have any money to pay for food."
no subject
"The community provides freely to those who live in the boarding house. You can rely on regular meals here as you get yourself settled. It is best you find work of your own choosing soon enough, to not be a burden upon the community." The idea of the community picking someone's service for them and what that might be isn't something Ankari is going to get into. Bob can learn that in due time...
no subject
Well accustomed to being brought up in a family that relied on food banks at times, Bob understands the need to contribute to the local community. Society as a whole he couldn't give a shit about, but the people around him? He'll do whatever he needs to in order to make sure they're as close to good as possible.
His gaze wanders around the mess hall when they get there, taking in the various seating options and where the food is available from which he approaches with no hesitation, making himself right at home.
"Grab us a table, yeah?" he requests as his fingers pluck up two bowls and two spoons. He's far too used to needing to find somewhere to sit in a city as busy as London that, even here in this almost empty mess hall, he's asking his new friend to get them a table just in case.
"How hungry are you, mate?" he calls over his shoulder at Ankari, more than happy to get a bowl of what looks like stew for the both of them. Saves the elf having to walk over and, since he's relying on that cane, Bob thinks this is the least he can do to help.
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