TEST DRIVE MEME 001

[rubimods]

⚰︎ ⍢ ⌲ ⍚ TEST DRIVE MEME:

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, waxplay, character death, and references to children in proximity to sexual situations.

✧ ✧ ✧

Welcome to RUBILYKSKOYE — a dark, horror-smut game where player choices will drive a mod-run storyline about the world and its NPCs. For the first round, this test drive serves as characters' arrival into game.

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.

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

AWAKENING IN PAJAK WOOD

The chirping of partridges in the treetops rouses you. Light barely filters through the canopy, just enough to suggest warmth of the sun. By the time it reaches the forest floor, the daylight has taken on a sickly green tinge. You lie amongst the mosses and ferns, the 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.

Fortunately, you seem to be alone. The birdsong continues 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. Amongst gnarled oaks and moss, you see nothing around. No sign of civilization or sentient life. Movement flickers at the corner of your eye, but it's just a curious animal — brave squirrels or lizards who have come to see what stirs in their home.

Then, like the rippling of the horizon at noontime, the ash-gray soil around you undulates. Sea, not earth. Something else has come to greet you — their grey bodies blended in so easily with the floor, but as you stagger to your feet, you see them. Thousands of spiders roll like waves underfoot. They crawl towards you from the darker edge of the forest.

attack

Individuals who attack the spiders will find the small spiders are easy to kill, but the pheromones released by their corpses draw larger spiders in their place. 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 will attempt to use their webbing to handicap 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.

FAQ: DEATH RULES

hunt

Any aspiring monster-hunters enterprising enough to try to follow the spiders to their nest will move eastward. This way, the forest grows darker and darker — though the sun never grows warm red-gold with sunset.

In the void, the birdsong is replaced by the click of mandibles and the skitter of many legs, but soon it is impossible to see. Even with the brightest magical light does not reach further than a few inches. The air grows heavy and thick, 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. Soon, you cannot move at all.

Turn back while you still can — collapsing out here is dangerous. The void can play tricks on your senses. You may find yourself reliving unhappy memories or hallucinating your worst nightmares.

SETTING: THE VOID

But flee the spiders westward and you will discover that the wood is well-populated with the survival resources that someone might seek — berries bushes and trees bearing stone fruits; sticks and dry leaves to aid in the building of a fire; rocks big enough to fashion into crude weapons; small animals that can be hunted or caught; hike long enough, and you might just find the freshwater stream that runs north-to-south, populated by both poisonous toads and delicious crawdads.

What's more, you may run into others with stories just like yours. Some may have already formed clumsy nudist hiking parties, others may still be naked and confused and processing how they have no memory of how they got here. They all stagger vaguely, as you do, with only the sun for a waymarker — and even that won't last long.

Now is a good time to overcome any hang-ups you have about modesty, as it's going to be a long hike. If you sneak a good look at your new companions, you may four varietals of marks on their bodies. Maybe someone will even point out that you have one, too.

FAQ: CURSE MARKS

EVERY DAY LIKE THE ONE BEFORE

Hike far enough — or long enough that the sun does go down — and signs of life come into view. The glow of fires and lights, the smooth curve of a stone wall. A town sits at the edge of this wood, a reward to the survivors.

The fifty-foot wall of beige stone protecting the town's perimeter has only a single entrance — an iron gate positioned on the southern edge. When you arrive, the gate is already open, welcoming people into town from the winding dirt road. Attentive eyes may note that the road itself bears the mark of many wagon wheels and horse hoofs, but not cars.

guards

The guards grant entry to anyone who attempts a conversation with them. However, if your character is more likely to attempt to sneak in, overcome the guards, or attack them, please reach out HERE.

Inside the wall lies a quaint, historic town with a population around five thousand. The streets are cobbled, and their signs are 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 bank — 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.

No matter what time you pass through the gate, the streets are full of people. The climate of the bustle befits a night market or a busy friday downtown — plenty of people to ogle at your exposed body. But despite any efforts on your part to hide or make excuses, the locals don't seem offended by your nakedness. Even families with children don't gawk or look twice. In fact, the further into town you go, the more you may notice that 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! If anything, they seem to be under the impression that you're naked to participate in the evening's events with the rest of them.

Those still determined to find proper clothing will find that modern clothing stores aren't a thing here. The closest this town has is a tailor's shop, which is closed for religious observance, and a stand in the central marketplace selling scarves and blankets.

Fortunately, the people of the town are very generous! The locals will gladly share what they have with those who ask politely — but those items are as revealing as what they're wearing. You might get a mesh bodysuit or drape outfit. Remember not to be ungracious! it's only appropriate for the occasion.

steal clothing

Anyone unwilling to ask nicely for help could break into someone's house or yard to steal some of their clean laundry. Notably, inside their homes, the people of the town also appear to own some more modest apparel. Be sure to alert us HERE if your character pursues this option.

SETTING: CRIME

And what is the occasion? The locals are excited and flattered by any interest in their ordinary weekly prayer: 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!

Anyone who chats at length with the townspeople will gather that the locals feel it's better for the newcomers to dive into the deep-end because, since you'll be settling in here, they expect you'll want to participate down the line. They seem to be under the impression that the new arrivals are a boon from their god.

In addition, many of the locals' choice of clothes reveal the same four types of marks on their bodies as the folx who were wandering out in the wood!

ROOM AND BOARD

Once you're tired out, the locals will help you find a place to stay. The boarding house is several stories tall and spacious, accessible through an embellished iron garden gate and obscured by hanging plants, trees, and vines. Beyond the overgrown yard is a bright red door, which opens into a spacious cottage.

The house has clearly been empty for some time — dust has gathered on various furnishings — bedding, sofas, curtains, wooden tables. According to the locals, it has remained empty since its last occupant passed away, and that's all they'll say about that!

Each floor of the house has a shared sitting room, but only the first floor has a kitchen — large enough to support feeding the entire household. Here, a few of the townspeople will help out — they stock the kitchen and help make dinner for the new arrivals.

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.

Comments

QUESTIONS

[rubimods]

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.

[umarell]

are the berries on the trees in the first prompt recognisably edible, and would someone with some basic botanical knowledge be able to identify that they're safe for consumption, or would it just be a shot in the dark?

editing with another question, possibly a silly one: are characters allowed to find each other in the forest with the spiders, or do they only run into others at all once they go west?

SETTING INTERACTION

[rubimods]

Be sure to alert us here if ...

• Your character attempts to sneak past or attack/overcome the guards at the town wall.


• Your character breaks into someone's house or yard to steal some of their clean laundry.

[moondregs]

Junpei is attempting to steal a tunic off a clothesline.

FIND-AN-INVITE

[rubimods]

Still need an invite to the game? Have a +1 you aren't using?

Use this thread to find someone who needs your invite or who can offer you one! Coordinate with folks that you're already RPing with on the TDM and make friends in game ahead of opening.

looking for an invite!

[illicitly]

Just dropping a note here that I'm looking for an invite if anyone has one to spare! My top level is here and my interest check commment is here if you'd like to discuss interests or have any questions first.

nicolò di genova — the old guard — wilk

[umarell]

001. awakening.

[ Things could be worse.

Nicky reminds himself of this as he scrambles thoughtlessly through the undergrowth of an unfamiliar forest. He's aware, vaguely, that he's naked, only because he can feel foliage whipping against bare skin, feel sticks cracking under his feet. His heart races, his hands scuffle in the dirt and dig fistfuls as he moves low and fast like a beast as the swarm of spiders follows behind, their collective rustle like the sound of torn fabric dragged over broken glass. It's a long time since he's felt like this, the raw and rough and instinctual urge to survive taking over all else, but he's not staying among those creatures, and he certainly does not have a weapon to fend them off, so running is the only choice. Survival comes easier to him, but even almost a millennium with this knowledge cannot overcome human nature. In any case, now more than ever, he's aware that any death could be his last.

That's how he comes across someone else, whether they're trying to fight the spiders or follow them to their nest: wild and untamed and with something animalistic in his eyes. His voice when he speaks is perhaps disconcertingly calm by comparison even in its urgency, low and tinged with a heavy Italian accent. ]

You should not stay here. We should leave, now.

002. hiking party.

[ It's hard to work out exactly how long it takes until the sickening skitter of spiders is a memory, but once he's far west enough, with only his thoughts and his resting heartbeat and no arachnids at all for company, Nicky can take better stock of his surroundings. They're unfamiliar, to say the least, and he doesn't remember how he got here. The most important thing right now is to find his family; everything else is secondary. But the more he walks, the more reassuring it is to know that he isn't completely alone, even if the faces are unfamiliar.

He stoops by a bush bearing cheerily red berries. Once he's plucked a few from the stems and let them roll into the palm of his hand, he offers some berries to anyone nearby, but not before he's tasted one first. ] They're edible. You should eat.

[ Anyone paying very, very close attention to him may notice that, despite the scrapes and nicks everyone must undoubtedly have suffered in their escape from the forest, Nicky is remarkably free of injuries. There may be small smears of blood on his arms and hands, but no wounds to match. There's an air of authority, or at least expertise, about him that might have some gravitating in his direction. He knows how to survive in the wilderness, at least, and so it's not long before he suggests a small hunting party to anyone who's been pulled his way. ]

I've seen animals here. Small creatures, woodland fare. We should keep moving, but it may be wise to hunt here while we can.

003. return to civilisation.

[ It's a long hike, and the relief Nicky feels when he sees the town almost outweighs his apprehension. Another unfamiliar place, though the landscape and architecture is not entirely alien to him. At least there are people and buildings; at least there is light.

Not one to balk at a religious ceremony, no matter how strange, Nicky mingles comfortably enough once he realises what it is. He asks for clothing when he can, and for his politeness receives a swathe of deep blue fabric that he can vaguely arrange on his body in something approximating a toga. It'll do. Wax drying on his arm and over one still-bare collarbone, he moves through the swarm of people with keen interest, like an anthropologist observing some far-off culture. ]

004. room and board.

[ Nicky selects a room without much rhyme or reason, sitting on the edge of the bed with a furrow in his brow and a distant look in his eye. That's how he can be found if someone wanders in, either entirely lost in thought, or absently peeling dried wax from his skin very delicately. In fact, he's so consumed by either of these tasks that he doesn't immediately react to an intrusion. ]

005. wildcard.

[ hmu if you want to do something else! you can catch me on plurk at crowders. ]

return to civilization

[babyguard]

[ Nile passes through the crowd with more confidence once she's donned her pilfered tunic. It's less than she would normally wear, stopping mid-thigh and loose over her shoulders to expose her throat, her collar bones. On the right side of her chest, just under the clavicle, a new mark she hasn't noticed yet glimpses in and out as she moves, the triangle with two dots that seems to match some of the locals.

It takes her a second to notice the familiar face in the crowd. All of her senses are tuned to seeking out threats, trying to gather information and because he is neither a threat or new her eyes initially slide right over him--until her brain catches and she does a full double take, twisting herself around in the crowd and pushing back past two locals to reach him.]

Nicky?

[ Her voice is strained, caught somewhere between disbelief and relief and maybe an edge of panic--it's been a weird day and she's not quite as pulled together as she'd like--and her hand wraps around his elbow, tugging him toward her even as she fights the urge to wrap him in a hug ]

What the hell are you doing here? How are you here?

yennefer of vengerberg | the witcher (netflix)

[choicely]

awakening

[ The first thought Yennefer has upon waking in the middle of the woods is that it's far from the first time she's opened her eyes to a place like this — but unlike before, she's wearing significantly less in the way of clothing, stripped of everything save the obsidian pendant around her neck. Its weight in the hollow of her throat is an unexpected comfort, even as she struggles to rise to her feet.

Once the ground begins to ripple around her, she barely has a second to perceive the danger — but she is prepared to do one of two things, and it depends entirely on who might be within earshot to reach her first.

If you're of a mind to fight the spiders alongside her, then it turns out she doesn't need to be in possession of any clothing in order to channel — chaos rising up into her fingertips, power she draws on gratefully in order to send a blast of energy at the advancing creatures, sending most of them flying. She may only be able to make a temporary stand, especially once she's joined by similarly-thinking company, but her head whips in the direction of any new arrival, dark hair temporarily obscuring her features: ] You wouldn't happen to know anything about killing these things, would you?

[ On the other hand, if you want to run instead, then she'll abandon the possibility of a fight in order to flee too — she recognizes the importance of living to another day, especially when a lack of clothing makes her especially vulnerable, and she won't wait around to discover whether there are any greater threats before turning to leave in haste. It may take some walking, but the moment she hears the sound of running water she'll relent in her pace, stopping before the trickling stream to catch her breath. ] I don't think they're following us anymore.

every day like the one before

[ Yennefer's been walking much too long for her liking — her feet are aching and bruised, and she's already envisioning a bath in her very near future as soon as she spots the glow of fires off in the distance. Whatever town this is, it's her greatest potential hope for enduring her circumstances — even if she's come to the conclusion that she's no longer on the Continent, at least nowhere that she could profess familiarity with.

It comes as something of a surprise that the guards don't bar her entry — as soon as she attempts to speak with them, they move to allow her past the walls, but Yennefer has no opportunity to even so much as experience the slightest hint of embarrassment over being naked, especially once she gets her first look at what others in the town happen to be wearing.

Still, some garment is better than nothing at all, and eventually she manages to talk her way into a dress for herself — even if its neckline has almost no bodice to speak of, most of her breasts plainly visible while the rest of her is ironically, discreetly covered up by comparison. She isn't surprised, then, when the first person she collides with — someone who appears a little more daunted by their surroundings, and therefore easily identifiable as someone not of this place — seems to be looking directly at her chest. On a sigh, she finally declares, somewhat hoarsely: ] My eyes are up here.

room and board

[ The boarding house is a bit more impressive than any roadside inn she's slept in before, but as long as the bed offers some semblance of comfort, Yennefer's already realizing she can't afford to be too picky about her accommodations.

After securing herself some food from the dining area, and making only the bare minimum of conversation with locals, she retreats to the room she's been offered, with nothing but a bath and as much sleep as she can achieve on her mind — she'll seek more answers come morning.

By the time the bedroom door opens again, Yennefer has already stripped out of her borrowed dress, using a basin of water and a clean cloth to wash herself by hand — her naked body displaying much of her journey through the woods, including fresh cuts from sharp stones and scrapes from brushing past overgrowth. But there is the niez mark on her too, the dark gray lines that look startlingly like scratches running along her shoulderblade — and unbeknownst to her. Whether her unexpected occupant pauses to gape at her or not, Yennefer glances past them with a brief upward jerk of her chin. ] If you're going to stand there, close the door. You're letting in a chill.

wildcard

[ if you want a more specific prompt or to run into yennefer elsewhere, feel free to hmu on plurk at favoritings or DW PM with alternate plotting ideas! her current canon point is post-season 2 of the witcher. will match player-preferred format in terms of prose or brackets! ]

awakening ( running )

[umarell]

I agree.

[ Nicky had no illusions about staying to fight: there were too many of them, and they could well have had poisonous bites. He looks back over his shoulder anyway, scanning the ground; he can feel a sort of paranoid phantom tickle on his skin, and for a few moments the ground still seems to be undulating with movement, but they do really seem to have shaken off their thousands of pursuers at last.

He crouches down by the stream to dip his fingers in it, brow furrowed. It takes a little while for him to put the right words together before he speaks again. ]

I don't suppose you remember how you got there in the first place?

Junpei Yoshino | Jujutsu Kaisen

[moondregs]

AWAKENING IN PAJAK WOOD

[ Even before his eyes open, there's unease.

The feel of the soil. The sounds of a forest. Almost every day of his life he'd been in a city. Woken up in a bed. Everything is wrong. Off.

He also never sleeps naked unless it's the hottest, most unbearable summer night. The kiss of a breeze against his skin jolts him fully awake, sending him scrambling onto his butt as his eyes dart around in a panic, heart beating in his chest like a wild animal in a small cage. There's a conflict between the urge to move and the urge to stay perfectly still, both options filling him with dread in equal measure. A dizziness hits him - from sitting upright too quickly? Or ...

... his palm slides up against his forehead as he groans, eyes about to shut when the sudden movement of something forces them wide again. He sits for a few agonizing seconds, frozen. Just when he's starting to assume a trick of the mind there's more movement. Then there's so much movement he's startled to his feet. Legs. So many legs. Skittering and writhing.

The errant, idiotic flash in his mind of a scene in a movie that's just like this.

He's off. Running. Without any thought on where. Just away. ]

EVERY DAY LIKE THE ONE BEFORE

[ By the time he actually gets into the city, Junpei has had time to somewhat adjust to his current undressed situation. Or, rather, it's more correct to say he's much too emotionally on edge by almost everything else to dwell on it very much - especially when he'd managed to end up in a group all having the same issue.

That isn't to say there aren't moments he's not clearly awkward - for one thing, without any clothes, the various scars and burns on his body are visible to all. While his fringe still hides the ring of cigarette burns on his forehead, it seems pointless now that the rest of the proof of the harassments he'd put up with at school on full display.

He's also not so blind as to miss the fact he's scrawnier than many of the men he sees around, and as much as he'd like to tell himself things like that aren't important to him, the truth is he shies away when he feels eyes appraising him.

As he passes by a yard while trying to find somewhere to hide so he can gather his scattered thoughts, the sight of a tunic flapping in the wind on a line catches his eye.

He's never stolen anything in his life.

After a quick look around he makes a dash for it, scrambling up and over a short stone wall. It'll be a little big on him, but in his current situation that would be a boon rather than an annoyance. ]

ROOM AND BOARD

[ It's been a surreal few hours, to understate things heavily. Junpei had kept hoping if he just had a few minutes to sit in a quiet place and think, he'd shake the scatterbrained haze he'd been in.

But those quiet few minutes were never found. There seemed to be people everywhere, and they weren't as apt to keep to themselves as the people who seemed to ignore him in Tokyo. Every time he felt like he was about to gather his wits something would happen to scatter them to the wind, and it had only served to make him more anxious and uncomfortable.

A part of him finds the idea of 'claiming a room' preposterous. Why is anyone settling in as if this is some pleasant vacation? Are they all just as delirious as he is from the circumstances?

But he finds himself peeking in from room to room, hoping he'll come across one that's empty. He's exhausted. His nerves are frayed. He'd badly scraped his knee scrambling over that wall to try and steal clothing, and while a local had taken pity on him and dressed the wound, it's given him a slight temporary limp.

Finally he peeks into a room and finds nobody else inside. Looking one last time over his shoulder he slips in, shutting the door soundly behind him. With a sigh he dives beneath the blanket, pressing his face into the pillow and tries finally to locate his logical mind amidst the blurry mess of emotions in his head. ]

Wildcard
[ If there's some other scene you'd like, PM me here or plurk! I'm at tentaclemonster! ]

[sunmon]

[ alina has just finished making the bed in the room she's settled into when she hears the door crack. she straightens up and turns around as she says, ]

There's another bed in here. If you're looking for one.

[ she nods her head to it. only then, looking back at him, does she notice the bandage wrapped around his leg. ] ... At least sit down for a bit.

mavis (original)

[telepathy]

spider-napped;

[ the sounds of a person struggling echo around wooded area. all grunting, no speech, mavis kicks and thrashes to try and deflect the spindly legs of the wolf-sized, red spider that has spun her wrists together with a silken thread tied to a branch overhead.

naked and unashamed, she is keeping her feet apart to try and prevent the spider from tethering both together and rendering her completely immobile. at the very least, it doesn't seem to have successfully bitten her yet, with how wildly she's flailing around. on the bottom of her wildly kicking right foot is a wilk mark.

if she notices someone approaching — and she does, because she can hear their thoughts and feelings like the clamoring din of a bar in her head — she doesn't acknowledge them.

she's not getting anywhere with this spider, though. its legs are too thin and willowy for her feet to snap anything when she does make contact. at this rate, it's just going to tire her out before it devours her. ]

it's a small world

[ even if it weren't for the culture shock, rubilykskoye is a hard place to stomach. it's a small town to some, but there are people everywhere. more than there had ever been in the wilds, more than she'd ever seen in one place before. the constant cacophany of idle thoughts, crowding shoulder-to-shoulder around mavis, squeezes her until it feels like she's suffocating. sweat sticks to her face, and she clutches herself like she's wounded.

a kind stranger offers her clothes, but she doesn't hear it. in fact, the little psychic twitch that prompts her to make any sense of the words at all in a language she understands puts her on the defensive, and she backs herself into a stand of hair ribbons, knocking them over as she tries to put distance between them.

only kossians have ever touched her mind like that before. only kossians should be able to. she doesn't get that danger-sharp sense that they want to hurt her, no, but ... every instinct in her body says that people always do.

and anyway, clothes are the least of her worries.

people shout in surprise as she knocks the ribbons over. she should go. she knows she should go, but — she had fought and bled for a chance at setting foot again in a community like this, since her own people had exiled her. her power had denied it from her for years. was she really going to let it happen again?

two stalls down, a teenager kissing someone for the first time is thinking about whether or not there should be this much tongue involved. an older woman is checking mavis for some kind of mark — but only if she's not another niez, after last time... — but this caveat to her interest doesn't make any kind of sense. a man selling leather leashes and bracelets is worried that no one thinks his wares are of any interest, worries he's useless, worthless, a burden on his parents, it's—

it's everywhere.

mavis staggers into an alley. she doubles over—clutches the first container she can find, which turns out to be someone's purse, and vomits into it. ]

oh my god they were roommates

[ eventually, some gets mavis into some clothes. by the time she reaches the boarding house, she looks sedated. there's a glossiness about her eyes, a heaviness to her limbs, but the voices are a little quieter now, and fewer, as if something about the liquor has dampened her power, or at least her consciousness of it.

she staggers into one of the bedrooms, already occupied, and stares at the person sitting on one of the beds. it's theirs, rightfully. they'd gotten there first. but mavis doesn't have it in her to move further. ]

This one's mine. Get out.

wildcard

[ feel free to hit me up protects if you want something in particular outside these! ]

small world.

[umarell]

[ The festivities hold Nicky's attention for a while, enough that he's almost swept away by it. It's a sufficient distraction, at least, and despite everything, the familiarity of routine – even one foreign to him – is almost a balm. But he knows he can use this time to do some exploration of his own. He winds among the stalls, inspecting the wares on offer with curiosity but no intention to take anything. Just browsing.

Being surrounded by so many people is not Nicky's natural state, though, and so after a while he slips down an alleyway. Mostly just to get away from the noise and the throngs of people whose understanding of personal space is loose at best. He realises he's not alone quickly enough, at the extremely familiar sound of vomit, and his brow furrows in muted concern at the young woman currently bent double nearby. She looks overwhelmed. He feels overwhelmed. He hesitates, just for a moment, because he knows it's no fun to be hounded by a stranger in a compromising position, but in the end he decides it's worth it. With careful efficiency, he tears some of the fabric from his loose attempt at a cover-up and moves a little closer, holding it out to her so she can clean up a little. ]

Are you alright?

[ It's a silly question, he knows – clearly she isn't – but it's just a point of entry for now. ]

alina starkov (shadow and bone)

[sunmon]

naked and afraid

[ alina delights at the sounds of another human soul in the woods—at first, at least. but her relief is quickly squashed by all the appropriate sorts of fear.

first, the fear that she is naked and alone, and if someone were prowling around the wooded area looking for girls to take advantage of, they'd surely be delighted to find her.

second, that she is grisha, and the sun summoner besides, and that even worse than the dangers cooked up by her lizard brain, dangers inherent to the state of her body and the way ravkans look at that sort of thing, are the dangers of being a saint in what feel like the woods of northeastern ravka. the border to fjerda must be close, no matter how warm the summer air feels.

so when she hears the sounds of talking or of foorsteps, she ducks around behind a bush or a tree and asks in her most imperious voice — ] Who's there?

a poor thief

[ alina avoids the main roads once she's in town. she ducks down an alley way and holds her arms around herself and shies away from the festival that seems to be going on, parading through town with torchlight and music. she doesn't want anyone to see her like this.

well. she doesn't want strangers to see her like this.

but there are empty houses pressed up against the wall, and laundry hanging on a line, and alina is so far beyond worrying about how she'll repay it or how long she'll be in this town. she just wants some clothes to put on. though she's still naked, there is notably no sign of a mark on her.

so she climbs the wall, yelping a little 'ow!' when the brick scrapes her backside and the top of her foot in the process. she rubs herself gingerly as she approaches the line and finds—

someone else has had the same idea. she hunches her shoulders. ] Hey! That's mine, give it to me. [ she reaches out for the same shirt that the stranger has just brought down off the line and tries to yank it away from them. ]

getting into the spirit

a. [ once she's dressed in clothes borrowed from the locals — in a linen dress with a leather and iron harness that shapes it — alina makes her way through the festival, questioning people who look comfortable on exactly where it is that they are and what they're celebrating.

but all they'll tell her are prayers for patronage, as if it should be obvious. she frowns about this. ]

What sort of saint wants this kind of prayer? [ a little judgmental, a little uneasy, both of which become a lot when someone hands her a candle dripping bodysafe wax. ] Oh. Oh, no thank you, I don't think — I'm not really interested in ... Any of this, actually.

b. [ later, she does find her way to a booth where they'd braiding flowers into crowns, however, and alina has started chatting amicably with the daughter of the florist about the different kinds of flowers that go into them. they're sort of dull in color, she notices. not like irises. but they look better on most of the people coming to collect one. ]

Oh! How much should I charge? [ the florist's daughter laughs and says, 'no one needs to pay.' which is quite possibly the silliest thing alina has heard to date, and she's already heard about wax-dripping and naked prayers. ]

title

[ feel free to hit me up protects if you want something in particular outside these! ]

A poor thief

[killersong]

Whoa - hey.

[It's the hint of desperation in Alina's voice that makes Dinah loose her grip on the shirt. Damn her big heart. She holds her hands up so that Alina can see they're empty before she lets one arm fall across her breasts.]

My bad. It's yours. You might wanna put it on backwards though, if them damn cut outs are where I think they're gonna be. Just - keep the noise down, yeah? Unless you wanna land our asses in whatever fucking jail they've got here. Because I'm thinking they won't be too damn pleased with a pair of thieves, yeah?

Shades | Daomubiji (Grave Robbers Chronicles)

[immapoorblindman]

Awakening/Wilderness:

Running naked through a forest was not his version of fun on any day. Running naked through a forest mostly blind while chased by giant spiders had skipped right over the fun thereshold into 'crazy that he never wants to repeat'. There were currently a number of things in that category, a surprising amount to do with bugs and snakes, but he had to admit his scarred nakedness was a refreshing first.

He soon lost them -a definite victory considering how many legs they outnumbered him- and found himself wandering the foreign forest. It wasn't totally aimless. At the first sounds of running water he hiked towards it, always, of course, keeping an ear out for any other indication of signs of large creatures too, human or otherwise. And followed along the stream, hoping it would bring him back to some sort of civilization, ancient, ruined, or otherwise.

Thanks to the filtered light, he was able to keep his eyes squinted open most of the time, the watered down afternoon lighting not hurting his eyes as much as it should and allowing him to see a little past his blindness. It wasn't until evening that he would be totally at ease in opening them fully, although he kpt them close at the first indication of human company. If lucky enough to find company, he used his makeshift stick, lovely straight tree branch, in front of him to guide him.

Shades -ironic moniker in his lack of eyewear at the moment- whistled, loudly, as he walked. Just another naked blind guy body full of scars, whistling while taking a stroll through the forest.

Town - Getting Dressed:

After a bit of less-awkward-than-he-thought explanation later, Shades had found himself some clothes. He didn't even need to barter for any, not that he had anything to barter with. He was well satisfied with the black undershirt tank and pants, and belt he was given, and a good leather belt was very important for more reasons than simply keeping his trousers up. In fitting with the scantily dressed theme of the town, he didn't feel too underdressed at the moment and it was better than his birthday suit before.

Most importantly he managed to find himself a pair of sunglasses. As dark as he could find to block out the light while still allowing him to see. A slightly reflective too, to keep his eyes hidden.

Town - Getting Festive:

(CW: Wax play?)

So it might be night time, and he might be wearing sunglasses. But he kept that long stick he found out in the woods -he might be growing a little attached- and kept it pointed in front of him even though he was no longer blind now.

He walked around, honestly more interested than concerned, at the local customs of this place. And might have winced, just a bit, at seeing where some of the wax was dripping on those exposed areas. (Especially if anyone's participating in their aforementioned birthday suit.)

"Oooh, that's gotta hurt...."

And a shameless second later, "Hey, lemme try." He meant to be the one doing the dripping, of course. That was what he intended...

Boarding House:

He definitely spent too much time eating because by the time he walked up to the bedroom there was... well, no bed. He stared at the full room and many people and lack of bed, and an almost comical crestfallen expression appears on his shades covered face.

Still standing by the door, he looked at the arrangements.

"Uh.... Any of the mister or misses on the beds are willing to share?"

If worse came to worse, he could go back and claim a sofa. These European places had large comfy couches, and one of them would fit his 6' tall frame.

Wildcard:

Will match log or spam format and length. Find me on sephchama or PM me here for other ideas!

boarding house

[gonnaburnitdown]

"That depends," came a rather dry, almost bored voice, spoken by a rather familiar figure who has managed to claim a bed mainly through feats of wrestling, pinning and then flipping the former occupant onto the floor. His clothing was almost as revealing as what Shades was wearing, though he had opted for a white tank and jeans. Still it did not cause him to loose his stiff, military-trained posture.

"What you are willing to give me, Hei Ye."

hanako 'rosalina' nurumi ❥ original ❥ diabel

[hasitsthorns]

❥ awakening.

This isn't the worst place she's woken up naked and confused. It's pretty up there, honestly, and that's a high bar to clear. When Rose sits up, the first thing she questions is: "How much did I have to drink?" to herself.

After rubbing the sleep from her eyes, the woman stands with a yawn and a stretch. Her nudity doesn't seem to bother her any - especially with no one around - and instead she sets to investigating. It isn't long though before her vision wobbles. Or, at least- She thinks it does. No, that's not a symptom of a hangover.

They're spiders.

Out if everything, they had to be spiders. Color drains from her face and limbs shake. Soon as one brushes by her feet, she's jumping into the air and finding the nearest purchase away from skittering limbs with a scream. Several screams, actually. The nearest person she comes across gets climbed like one of the surrounding trees as she trembles and pleads.

"I can't do spiders, anything else but spiders-" Even if there are none around anymore, she's clearly quite panicked still. Naked and Afraid seemed so much more entertaining on TV, she has to admit.

❥ every day like the one before.

Sweet civilization. And with a dress code she doesn't actually mind.

The blond is decidely more in her element here than out with the spiders. If anyone happened to see her embarrassing shrieking meltdown: no, you didn't. It seems to be forgotten now, somehow, as she peruses the place still naked but certainly less afraid. "Can't say I expected spooky nudist community," she offers, to anyone nearby, "but it's kind of doing it for me."

---

Eventually, she does get offered a nice see-through drape by a kind woman. While she imagines one is supposed to wear underwear beneath it, well- It's better than being completely bare if only slightly. Although not the religious sort, she admits to being curious about this weekly prayer. If more churches were like this maybe she would have been a bit more devout. "Dance with me!" she exclaims, grabbing someone else and pulling them into the festivities gleefully.

---

"Oh," she comments, watching that wax-dripping. The blond bites her bottom lip and stares almost intently. It doesn't go unnoticed and she's encouraged by one of the locals to participate if she desires but Rose plays a little coy. Can't make it too easy, can she? That's all part of the fun. "Oh, I mean- I couldn't. I don't have a partner or anything!" Although she says that, she'll cast a sheepishly seductive glance to anyone around that seems like they might be interested as well.

Yes, she's definitely in her element here.

❥ room and board

As someone used to sleeping in all manner of places, this is actually one of the nicer accommodations. She also is more familiar with 'first come first serve' of shared housing and will be quick to secure a spot.

Should anyone lack a place and look lost, she'll extend her leg out invitingly to stop them in their path. "I'm happy to share," she says, gaze trailing up their body suggestively, "so long as there's something in it for me."

She lets the tension settle in for a moment before following up with: "I missed dinner, see, to make sure I got my own bed. But if you'd go get me something- I'd gladly make room for you." What do you think she meant, hm? (From how amused she'll be by any flustered reaction, it's clear that she knows exactly what they had.) She does really want something to eat though and really will share but, you know, chop chop. Plenty of other people to try and filch food from if they take too long.

❥ plot with me.

heyo! my interest check comment is right here! you can also find me @ tentamenace, discord @ tentamenace#5341, or PM this journal!

weekly prayer

[illicitly]

"O-oh, okay!"

The lively, pretty woman whisking him off to dance takes Nie Huaisang off guard but as is typical for him when things just sort of happen to him, he's quick to go along with it. His eyes glitter with interest and appreciation as he takes in her form, clad in one of the strangely revealing outfits unlike anything he'd seen prior to stumbling into town. It's very flattering and more than little distracting but he's been raised to be a gentleman so he tries not to gawk at her too much.

"What an interesting place," he blurts out a bit awkwardly.

As much as he likes women, he's always been shy and fumbly around them, especially the bold, outgoing types.

nile freeman | the old guard

[babyguard]

↪ PAJAK WOOD

[The last thing she remembers is taking a bullet straight to the face. It's not the first time and arguably won't be her last, but it is the first tame time a bullet to the face has her waking up naked in a forest.

It's the reason she figures she doesn't immediately notice the spiders.

That, and the slow roll of nausea that reminds her of being green behind the ears and finishing her first five mile run in basic.

The ground shifts under her, the feel of thousands of tiny bodies pressing against bare skin that send a scream tearing through her throat that she's able to bite off into a pained whimper. It slips out, unbidden, as she scrambles to her feet. The number of spiders sinks somewhere into her brain once she's upright, and slips from there down her spine with ice-cold realization and settles somewhere in her gut, cold and terrifying. There's a reflex to reach for a weapon, fingers clenching around air where there should be a gun, before instincts kick in and she's running.

Branches whip across her skin, cuts showing up in a vibrant red before just as quickly knitting closed. Bushes and underbrush tug at her, her feet stumbling over rocks and fallen leaves. Her headlong run only slows when she hears the sound of a scream: human, distressed. She should ignore it. There's no telling what else the forest holds after the thousands of spiders--but Nile's never been able to ignore someone who needs help.

She stops, tilts her head, listens again.

The scream repeats and Nile heads toward the sound, letting out her own shout in reply: ] Where are you? Keep yelling! I can help!

↪EVERY DAY

[ Six months ago, Nile would have said the weirdest possible thing that could happen in her life would be waking up one day to find out she couldn't die. Today, she has to amend that to include walking naked into a city with people that just don't seem to care. Sure, they cast looks her way, but they're the kind of looks she's used to coming into a new city. They're 'oh, you're new here' looks. They're 'you don't seem like much of a threat' looks. They're 'what's your purpose' looks. And, apparently, her nudity has given them an answer to a question she doesn't understand and they've accepted that she's part of them.

And yeah, maybe she should do everything she can to fit in but she's had enough of feeling fucking vulnerable for the day and she needs clothes.

Stores don't seem to do it, clothing on the shelves and hanging of mannequins not much more than her current situation, and even a kind villager who passes a bundle of clothing her way when she tries to inquire about where to find a real outfit leaves her wanting.

But when she walks past a wooden gate with slats big enough to see through and she catches sight of clothing that will actually cover more than five square inches. Is it right, jemmying opening a lock that's old enough it looks like it's begging to be picked and slipping into a backyard? No, probably not, but--she's just borrowing them. And she'll find a way to pay it back, she figures, once she's got her head on straight--but at least now she's got what seems like an undershirt to tug on, the thin, white fabric hanging down to the top of her thighs.

Better.

(For the record? She's reasonably sure she'd actually murder someone for underwear.)

Nile slips out of the yard the way she came in; pressing the gate closed behind her and sliding the lock back into the place--only to turn around and stumble into someone: ] shit, sorry. Didn't see you there. I'll just--

[ She motions vaguely, indicating an intent to slip past ]

↪ ROOM AND BOARD

[ Sharing a room isn't new. Not after the Marines. Not after Andy and the boys, and honestly at this point in her day, Nile would share a bunk with Merrick if it meant she could actually sleep.

That's not true; she'd shoot him before he took a step toward her, but the intention is there.

She pushes open a door up the winding steps and offers something that might pass for a smile if it were a little less strained.]

This bed taken?

↪ WILDCARD

(feel free to hit me up on plurk at justplainchy for plotting or just throw something my way! )

[immapoorblindman]

[ Comfortably in sunglasses (yes, it's night time) which were actually more important than clothes -but he got those too-, Shades was set on exploring when the scantily clad thief bumped into him. Rather, she was going to, but he stopped her, with his arms held out to keep her from colliding too, and gave her a quick glance over with his head bobbing up and down.

She looked as out of place in this curious European backcountry village as he did.

Considerably more naked still, not that he could say the same a fifteen minutes ago. ]

You know, they actually give you clothes if you asked.

[ That's how he got his, the tank, trousers, belt, and sandals. He would prefer boots, but beggars couldn't be choosers, especially naked ones. And a long stick that he grew attached to from the woods and kept around as a 'blindman's stick. ]

Nie Huaisang | Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation/Mo Dao Zu Shi | Wilk

[illicitly]

A. Awakening in Pajak Wood

(cw: mention of dismemberment, reassembly of a corpse)

[Once the meeting with his peers at Lotus Pier has adjourned and the rest of his brother's dismembered remains have been assembled and returned to his keeping, Nie Huaisang's on his way once more. It's not easy to quell his rising bloodthirst or eagerness for his decade long journey to finally conclude so late in the game but he'd never have made it this far without discipline but reattaching his beloved elder sibling's head to his shoulders requires focus and a steady, patient hand.

It's tiring, all of Nie Huaisang's work has been tiring and once this task is done, he's ready to turn in for a good night's rest before taking another step forward. Judging from how incensed his peers had been at the meeting, it won't be long before it's all over and he can start rebuilding anew from the broken remains of his ruined life.

But once again, there's a setback, this time in the form of waking up in a place completely new to him. The guan Nie Huaisang typically wears is missing and so is the rest of his clothing but at least his dark hair is plenty thick and long enough to grant him some measure of cover. The birdsong is comforting though, soothing his nerves as it often down, and for a moment he wonders his own little darlings are faring at home without his attention.

The thought quickly evaporates when spiders seemingly erupt from the ground and starting skittering around to surround him.

No. Not here. Not now. Not after I've made it this far.

His survival instincts push him westward almost immediately , hurrying througn the trees as fast as his legs can talk him. Nie Huaisang might not use his cultivation for much but he'll certainly use it for this, tapping into his meager well of spiritual power to accelerate through the forest, dodging trees and passerby with skill but a comical lack of grace, all awkward turns and flailing limbs .]

A-Aaah! Ah! Spiders! Big ones!

[He screams nonsensically at anyone he happens to pass by in his flight.]

B. Every Day Like The One Before

[Upon reaching civilization, Nie Huaisang calms down a little though the scrutiny of some of the locals is enough to make him a little self-conscious. Without his loose robes to hide his physique from the world, his lack of muscles is pretty clear, along with a soft roundness to his mid-section and thighs. While not fat, it's apparent that he doesn't exercise much and probably doesn't eat the healthiest foods. The self-consciousness is enough to really make him want some clothes.]

Excuse me... Pardon me..

[The words come out in a timid mumble, his whole body flushed slightly pink.]

Do you know where I might find something I can cover up with?

[OOC: His curse mark is on the back of his neck, hidden underneath his hair. For the canon familiar, Huaisang's canon point between the meeting with Bicao and Sisi at Lotus Pier and the final confrontation at the temple. He's also novel canon rather than live action. If you want to plot, feel free to shoot me a PM or add me to Discord (Mimarin#7493).]

A

[reviser]

Yes I can see that. [Because obviously they're all but surrounded but annoyance is clear in his voice. The other's appearance and ability to move could mean he's a cultivator, but that remains to be seen.

But this is definitely not what he expected when he'd woken from his 'death'. Still, he does keep an eye on the other man. Bad form to let someone who might be useful die, after all.]

Vincenzo Cassano | Vincenzo | OTA

[mafiacornsalad]

woods - closed to devilspirit

[ Spiders aren't among Vincenzo's favorite things, but they don't cause him panic. More concerning is his lack of clothing. He was a man accustomed to the best Italy had to offer and though he's grown accustomed to lesser things in Korea, both were far from the wilderness. Worse yet is that pride brings modesty, and neither work well with nudity.

It's with care that Vincenzo moves through the woods, both in hopes of avoiding another human soul and to avoid tripping over the many tripping hazards. An injury would only compound his negative mood. In the city, he's cool, confident, and horrifying when he needs his enemies to be scared, but this is far out of his element. Even his martial arts are only useful in the grace it allows.

Grace that fails him as he steps around a collection of roots that surround nearby bushes. Vincenzo stumbles forward, through the bushes, and nearly falls, but he manages to catch himself at the last moment. Grateful to have avoided any collisions with the ground, he doesn't notice the someone nearby until he checks his feet for injuries. Nothing. Nothing but another pair of feet in his vision. Vincenzo stands quickly, righting himself, trying to regain some dignity when his gaze has to travel higher still.

A familiar face he did not want to see. Quickly, he straightens his posture further. ]

I shouldn't be surprised to find a monster in this forest.

[ He does everything in his power to ignore the fact that they're both nude. ]

a. clothing

[ The guards were no help in securing clothing, and Vincenzo wasn't going to continue this 'adventure' without some kind of coverage. It's difficult to ignore the growing embarrassment that comes with the nudity, but he lacks both funds and information. The people here seem to be friendly enough, but it's impossible to differentiate between townspeople and those who have been lucky enough to find something to wear. Vincenzo accidentally flags down the latter. ]

Excuse me.

[ He offers his most charming smile. ]

Could you tell me where I could find some clothes?

[ Surely there's some kind of charity available. ]

b. encounters

[ While only a few fooled souls would consider him the most friendly of people to meet, Vincenzo isn't usually hostile to strangers so much as his mood has soured considerably. The 'clothing' he's managed to secure is barely a collection of chained links with padding to cover one strategic area between his legs. He feels ridiculous, and the day seems to promise nothing better. With such a quick pace, it's no wonder that he and the stranger find themselves colliding. ]

Watch where you're going.

[ He turns to face them, expression more annoyed than it would be under normal circumstances. ]

(ooc | i'm also open to wildcards! feel free to message me here or over at plurk at wrinklesintimes )

clothing

[beloveddeath]

[ He was amused by all of this. Unashamed, he stalked through the forest to the town, body paler than it should be as flesh molded to bones molding to spirit. He was not usually this physical in the world - Der Tod always existed a step outside the mrotal binds with shadows of his messengers flocking around him. Even now he found the idea of form a strange and uniques experience. Even the spiders were given their all due consideration before he smiled and gave one or two a kiss. Suffice to say such things still were a part and parcel.

But this place had him pause, pale hair shifting between strands of shadow to strands of moonlight. His form settled at last to echo that of the man addressing him, the paleness shifting as much as his features until he turn. Branded over his heart, the curse mark flared and settled, becoming no more than another echo of what he was. ]

Clothing? [ His laughter, like his voice is soft and not fully normal. ] Ah, yes, mortal flesh. We could ask?

Ignacio "Nacho" Varga | Better Call Saul | Wilk | cw: mentions of suicide

[machonacho]

[Awakening in Pajak Wood]

[The last thing Nacho remembers is putting a gun to his head and pulling the trigger. So, all things considered, the last thing he expects right now is to be awake.

Being in a forest and being naked are also near the top of the growing list of things he's very confused about. He shakily gets to his feet, eyes wide, looking not unlike a scared animal ready to bolt.

And then he sees the spiders.

It's a blur after that, running and tripping and running some more. He very nearly succumbs to their webs several times, but Nacho is a born survivor, even when he should be dead. He makes it west in record time.

By the time he runs into someone else -- quite literally -- he's out of breath and filthy. His body is covered in old scars: bullet wounds in his right shoulder, the left side of his stomach, and two on his shaved head, one on either side. His left shoulder bares a scar that looks not unlike two shards of bone stuck just under the surface.

Frantic and panting, he stumbles back after running into the other person. His brown eyes are wide as dinner plates, and he doesn't say anything, seeming primed to bolt in the other direction if need be.]

[Every Day Like the One Before]

[This has to be some sort of weird, oversexualized afterlife, right? That's the only explanation that makes sense. You don't just survive a gunshot point-blank to the head and wake up completely fine in the middle of a forest.

And this town... It's just as strange as the woods were. He openly stares at the townsfolk in their downright slutty garb. No one looks twice at his bare body. He doesn't like being naked in front of everyone, though, so he approaches a couple and gently asks them if they can spare anything. Both the man and the woman excitedly chatter as they duck in and out of their house to grab him something to wear.

He ends up in a mesh shirt and a pair of shorts that, aside from the color, are absolutely not his style, to say the least. The boots are at least a little more acceptable.

He thanks them with a smile anyway and goes about his business. Which is... what, exactly? His business should be "being dead." But here he is, some strange symbol on his body, alive and... close enough to well. He wanders around with a blank expression on his face until someone dancing in a crowd of people tries to draw him in.]

No, gracias. [He slips into his second language as he backs away, shaking his head. The person urges him again to come join, but he refuses a second time.] No. No, that's okay.

[She doesn't seem to want to take no for an answer, so Nacho looks over at the next-nearest person, meeting their eyes. He raises his brow, a silent assist, please? in his gaze.]

[Room and Board]

[Nacho feels exhausted by the time he gets to the boarding house. He wanders into one of the bedrooms and collapses face-first into a bed without so much as checking to see if anyone's claimed it already. Oops. He just needs to rest his head, try and wrap his mind around what the hell's going on. He shouldn't be alive. He shouldn't be. So why is he?

He thinks about his father. His last conversation with him. Thinks about that bastard Gus, that slimy Hector and his horrendous nephews, that fat pig Bolsa who screamed so perfectly when he stabbed him in the leg. Did they do this somehow? Save him and drop him in some foreign country where everyone dresses like strippers? Ay dios. None of this makes any sense.

He misses his father. Just wishes he could have seen his face one last time, but now he's alive and away from him still, when he'd already resigned himself to death. He doesn't realize he's doing it, but he starts to sob into the bedding. All the ugly emotions he'd been avoiding since realizing he was about to die come spilling out on the backs of big, wet tears that clump his lashes and wet the pillows.

He just needs a minute. Please stand by.]

every day like the one before.

[exaltruistic]

Ah —

( Ko is small and slight and dressed in a similar get-up; shorts far too short and a top that exposes his hips, too tight over his chest.

He reaches forward to grab at Nacho's hand — gently, though his hand is necrotic and cold to the touch, which might be ... freaky. )

I'd been looking for you, let's go. Excuse us.

( And he meets the woman's gaze briefly, pulling Nacho aside and away without room for protest.

Once they get far enough away, Ko speaks again, crossing his arms as he walks. )

This place is new to you too? You don't seem like a local ...

Jin Guangyao | Mo Dao Zu Shi

[taintedpeony]

💮 A. Awakening in the Pajak wood.

Jin Guangyao was on the run before he lost his bearings and awoke in the woods. This was surely a curse otherwise where did his hostage companion, Lan Xichen go? He would be a sitting duck with his cultivation locked as it was. Was this a ploy by the same hidden enemy that had been pursuing him? The one that sent the letter to his wife? The one who had threatened to expose him if he did not expose himself?

Well, he certainly was exposed. Jin Guangyao opened his eyes blearily against the dull rays of light through the canopy of the trees. He pushed himself up and everything was just gone, the soft sword he wore at his waist, and even his clothes.

This wasn’t ideal, but he’d survive, he always did. Or at least he hoped he would. With a sigh, he tied his long hair up into a loose knot against his head, no use in getting any critters in there. It was a good thing he did because when he looked down there was just wave after wave of tiny spiders approaching him.

Look, Jin Guangyao had grown up in less-than-ideal conditions and he was not the least bit of an arachnophobic, but this was just too many! Better to run than deal with whatever venom they may have when he didn’t have the means to cure it.

It was just as well that he was running, without his sword or talismans to help him fight any creatures that were lurking there his main objective was survival. (It always was no matter where he had found himself really.)

Perhaps a newcomer would find him with a small pile of fruit near the stream, bent over a pile of wood, biting into his finger and writing fervently on a leaf with his own blood. He tosses the leaf onto the wood with a bit of a spark and a full fire bursts up. He smiles at them.

“It is exhausting running around here, Would you like to sit and warm yourself? I have food I am happy to share.” He says amicably.

Jin Guangyao was nothing if not polite. Besides the night would be easier to survive with others.

💮 B. Everyday like the one before:

The town looked promising, and he took everything in. The architecture looked nothing like the towns he was used to. How far away did this curse take him? This was certainly not China or any country in the East. He had at least had the forethought to do a quick rinse when he was by the stream so he did not look too filthy, though he was still regrettably naked. Though it seemed that there were enough others in the same state of undress as he.

Jin Guangyao struck up a conversation with the guards. He was pleasantly surprised when he was pushed through as he explained his situation. As he wandered through the streets, his hands covering his shame, he looked around and realized that, no this was not China at all, really began to sink in. In every other way, the town seemed fairly normal, but the foods were foreign and the items of clothing were certainly skimpier than anything he’d seen in the brothels.

The people here seemed friendly enough and there was a sense of jubilation in the air, though Jin Guangyao suddenly found himself being dragged into a wax-dripping ceremony, by an older woman he had asked about the specifics of the occasion, and when he took a few steps back so not to rudely decline he crashed into another person hard, landing flat on his ass, upending a bowl of melted wax in the process.

“Pardon me. I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you at all!” He made such a mess on just coming here.

“Are you injured?” he asked frantically while apologizing for the spilled wax.


💮 C: Room and Board:

The boarding house could certainly use some cleaning, but Jin Guangyao was grateful for the food. He would be happy to help clean and fix things in exchange for a place to stay after all. And after a cold night in the forest, a hot meal was certainly welcome. He sat at the table dressed only in a cape one of the villagers had loaned him and smiled at the person next to him.

“Today was a rather eventful day. The food is good here though. I'm Jin Guangyao, Do you have your accommodations yet? Do you know if we are supposed to pick a room to settle in?”

💮 D: Wildcard:

(Feel free to just drop a starter here or hit me up on either
peacockdance or Discord:peacocksdance#4901.

Jin Guangyao has his mark over his heart.)

B

[immapoorblindman]

Shades was, thankfully, not holding any wax or candles or anything that could burn, scorch, or otherwise make a mess on himself or anyone else. And the bowl of wax did not actually spill on him either although he certainly had to move his sandaled foot out of the quickly enough.

He turned, the 'blindman's stick' -a mere branch he had grown attached to from the woods- touching the ground in front of him while his sunglasses wearing face turned to observe the person he came across.

Another naked person, as he himself had been mere half an hour ago before finding his tank top and pants, and looking more flustered by the situation than his nakedness. But then, if the young stranger had been running around in his skin as long as Shades had been the whole day, he would be pretty worn out by the novelty of it too. So Shades smiled back wide in a disarming grin and waved his hand, the one not holding his stick.

"It's fine, it's fine."

His head tilted slightly. "The people here are surprisingly nice. They help clothe you if you ask."

lottie person | snotgirl

[oomfies]

1. skinny dipping

[ Running into someone else naked, alone, by the way — in the woods, also naked, by the way — was arguably even more terrifying than the spiders. Spiders leave you alone if you don't get in their way, but people? People can do anything. Desperate people will do anything.

(This explains why she latched onto the first person she met so quickly, once it was established that no killing was going to happen that night. No one will find her body in the woods rotting by her lonesome.)

It's remarkably impressive, just how quickly you get over issues about being naked when you have to figure out how to survive. The first few hours she was scrambling for modesty, for any leaf big enough to splay on her lap or her chest. Then night fell, and the cold came with it. She was very quick to forgo the leaves and huddle against another body, because warmth is scarce and she is so desperate to take. And, over time, very desperate to give, as she became increasingly reminded of how little she could do.

She's well aware of how difficult it is to help her survive — she's a normal person who had her groceries habitually delivered to her house. Lottie doesn't know how to hunt, to gut things or kill. But she knows how to clean wounds, is especially sensitive to temperature by happenstance of her medical issues (all of which is thriving in the forest, making her nose and cheeks red from constant sniffling). ]

You know, there was a show I'd see playing all the time that kinda reminds me of this.

[ She mentions (says, really, to get a conversation going) as she wades in the cold — so very fucking cold — waters of the river she's managed to steer the both of you into. 'Please, can we just bathe or something,' she insisted, entirely an excuse to feel normal and to prove that she isn't as useless as she feels. The current isn't that strong, more of a pleasant push against her skin as she ducks down beneath the water, enough to get shoulder deep. Her hair is held in a tight ponytail by her own hand, the mark of the diabel emblazoned on her wrist, along with a blatant unwillingness to get her hair wet just yet despite how dirty it is. ]

2. small town living

a. [ Despite having spent a good chunk of her time here naked, Lottie is honestly only scandalized by just how.. So very not naked everyone is?! She lifts up something that resembles strings moreso than clothing (she thinks she's seen bikinis like this, once upon a time), huffing out: ]

God. Honestly.. Why even bother?

[ Whether you traveled into town with her from the very Bear Grylls-esque venture of your lives, or you just saw what she had going for her (ten billion pieces of clothing, amassed from begging locals for help) and decided to sift through it yourself, it doesn't matter. Lottie is vaguely irritated about all of this, but friendly enough despite it to toss said garment your way to see if you'd want it. ]

b. [ She's slapped an outfit together that, miraculously, manages to cover all the important bits (barely, barely, because it is just a sparkly and sheer piece of fabric that is called a 'dress' that she dons, but— beggars can't be choosers). However, she's still showing a fair amount of skin, which means she is cold. Cold enough to look some type of way at the candles every local seems to be walking around with — ]

Since when is wax holy?

[ She says aloud, mostly to herself but partly to you — someone close by or someone who has decided people watching is fun, too — sounding like she isn't entirely buying this is strictly for 'praying' purposes. ]

3. room and board

[ It's a few days in to settling with this new life ('settling' is used so loosely it's painful, really) that she finds herself stepping out into the communal kitchen late one night. She's clad in a night gown, a faint pink dyed onto the fabric — it's thin, but comfortable enough for her to lounge in as she sips at her tea through a chipped mug. It's silent, but pleasantly so, until she catches the sound of someone walking in.

It's hard not to, when the only thing that's existed so far is her occasional grunt, the odd 'ow!' from her attempts at patching a garment up in a room that is barely lit. She looks up at you through candlelight, clearly someone she recognizes — either because you're her roommate, or because she's seen you around generally, it doesn't matter — if her expression is anything to go by.

There's a beat where she mulls over whether to say something, before she blurts out— ]

Hey! [ A beat. ] ..Want one?

[ A cup, she means. ]

wildcard
[ feel free to pm or hit me up at snottie if you want to do something in specific. or hit me with whatever you'd like! i'm easy 💕 ]

3

[machonacho]

[It takes Nacho a bit to pull himself together after an embarrassing little crying session up in one of the rooms. His eyes are still a bit pink and puffy when he makes his way down to the communal area. He's seen the green-haired girl here and there; she's easy to recognize. When she calls out to him, he settles down on a nearby chair, drumming his fingers on the arm of it.]

...Tea or coffee? [Either way, he could probably use something to drink before he gets too dehydrated and ends up with an even bigger headache than the one he had right before he woke up here.]

daryl dixon | the walking dead ➸ wilk

[dadyl]

➸ 𝐏𝐀𝐉𝐀𝐊 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃

a. 𝘯𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥

[ What he really can't figure out is how he doesn't seem to have a head wound. Some awful blow to the head is all Daryl can think of to explain his disorientation, the rush of nausea when he struggled to his feet and the fact that he can't find his clothes, but no matter how many times he runs his fingertips along his scalp, searching his thick mat of hair for blood, he can't find an explanation. The completely unfamiliar terrain takes an uncharacteristically long time to claim his attention because Daryl is focused on the whole naked part right up until the spiders shiver to life underneath and around him and somehow take priority firmly. Somehow.

With nothing to swing at them with and no shoes to even step carefully, he has no choice. He's fucking outta there.

But the spider emergency doesn't make sprinting away through the woods stark naked any more familiar or tolerable of an experience. He knows how to read a forest, even one as alien and unrecognizable as the one he's wandering now, but he's cold and way too exposed and compulsively looking over his shoulder every dozen paces.

Eventually, he slows down to a jog but he's still breathing too hard to hear someone else rounding the same thorny copse as him. He stops short and then instantly steps back, trying to keep a tree between himself and the stranger. ]

Wh-why the hell're you naked?

[ It can only mean he hasn't gone insane or gotten stuck in the worst dream of his life. Daryl's face instantly flushes with colour and no matter who he's come across, Daryl keeps his eyes on their face and their face alone when he steals a look around the greenery. His real shame comes from the fact that if anyone's eyes aren't as respectful as his, he'll have no way to cover the scarring that covers so much of his torso. He has no way to know that his new cursed brand is now nestled among the scars on the shoulder blade opposite his old tattoos. ]

b. 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘥𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘦

[ Hours later, once he's calmed down enough to realize the benefit of joining one of the groups he's seen (or at least skulking, embarrassed, on the edges of it), Daryl catches someone raiding a bush for lunch just in time. ]

Don't eat those. [ To avoid sounding shy he goes for gruff. Too gruff. ] Not unless you wanna be trippin' while you shit yourself.

➸ 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄

c. 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴

[ He watches the gates for a long time from the edge of the woods before deciding that it would go worse for him if he drew attention by getting caught. He can't afford to get snatched up when he hasn't even been able to take the measure of the place yet - the wall conceals too much - but it's clear the wild doesn't have anything to tell him, either. The people don't seem hostile, not even the guards, but Daryl can't process the impossibilities of it all. It had been difficult to believe the stories of the people he'd encountered already but the confusion truly set in when the wall loomed and Daryl was forced to accept what he couldn't deny: there weren't any walkers here, and this wasn't the region that he knew. To say the least.

But walking naked into a bustling crowd of mostly-clothed people still doesn't seem like a viable option to Daryl, not even after travelling most of the day with a nude group already, so he's still standing in the underbrush. Watching, pretending like he isn't hesitating for any reason besides his modesty. His shame.

He still can't make eye contact with anyone who tries to greet him. It's no one's fault but his. ]

You don't trust none of this shit, either?

d. 𝘢 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴

[ He finally puts his finger on it just as he's vaulting over the low wall and nearly saying a prayer for the unattended laundry line - this place reminds him of the Kingdom back home, and even more of the Hilltop. The antiqueness of it, the basics used the way Daryl is used to, now. His world has been dead for over ten years and so this doesn't feel too much different to him, except, of course, for the people.

At least this unsuspecting citizen appears to have the basics to cover your ass, because Daryl is just stepping into a pair of roughspun trousers when he realizes he's being watched. Was perhaps even followed? It's only now that he remembers laws and shit and he freezes, raising open hands slightly. The pants, untied, slip lower on his hips. ]

Hey. Be cool, alright? I need 'em.

➸ 𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙳𝙲𝙰𝚁𝙳 !

( Let's plot or just hit me with something different! Daryl is a pile of intimacy issues and nsfw stuff tends to require some cr/chemistry first as a result. pp anytime @ kaitniss )

naked meeting

[immapoorblindman]

[ Unlike the stranger who jogged into his vicinity, Shades heard him coming even when the man was mad dashing through the forest to this location. Since this was the first sign of a person out in these woods, he decided to go towards him instead of away.

Which was how he designed for them to meet behind that copse of bushes, Shades with his eyes closed and his newly found tree branch being used as a blindman's stick in front of him. ]

Ah... Are you not?

[ The stranger was. Shades had sneaked a peak earlier when he first caught glimpse of him before closing his eyes. He himself didn't bother hiding his own nakedness even with his disconcerting amount of scars. ]

Really, I have no idea. Can you lead me back to the village? [ Because, there had to be a village nearby, right? ]

genya safin | shadow & bone | niez

[pigeonblood]

[ content warning: history of SA, mutilation. and note: depending on this answer, her rune may or may not be visible. ]

AWAKENING — spiders

[ It's as she wipes cold clods of dirt from her skin, the reality of her undeniable nudity sinking in, that she begins to shiver. Shaking, she reaches to her face. Her fingers alight on her brow in dread. Her eyepatch is gone. Tumbling down, she hesitates to touch her bare neck. Genya balks silently, aghast. Nausea boils in her stomach. The ruthlessness is unfathomable.

Genya clasps an arm across chest, fingers gripping into the opposite shoulder, and casts a frenzied, furious glance about. She seems to be alone in the forest, abandoned. No aches or stings surface in the ebbs of her panic. With certainty, she knows she wasn't physically harmed. The sense of violation hardly abates.

As she steels herself to stand, the ground shudders. Dark pinpricks, the first soldiers of a swarm, tickle up onto her legs. Tiny black dots speckled among her innumerable scars. (An underlined diamond marked on her inner thigh briefly registers.) She hastens to her feet, frantically brushing them off. More start the climb, threading back along the ground to a thickening stream of spiders that pours out from the canopy's darkness.

Genya screams. ]

AWAKENING — heartbeats

[ She runs until the last spider has dropped from her skin, then relents to an urgent, inelegant stride. Vigorously, she combs through and shakes out her hair, losing a tangle of strands and several more of the skittering pests. At last, she stops to collect herself despite the compulsion to swat at phantom vermin. It takes some time.

Eventually, she's able to breathe, if not easily. She reminds herself of what she can do from here. Genya then tucks herself against a tree, spine to its trunk. Attuning herself to her own heartbeat, she gradually allows it to lullingly fill her head. Her hand, held at her breastbone, comes to her side in a mirror of the other. Palms of both faced outward, her fingers spread as if netting the air.

A heartbeat. Any heartbeat. That will be her heading. Once she has it, she proceeds with caution. But she isn't used to the forest, and can't manage silence among the leaves and brittle twigs. From afar, she can at least tell that the person she's found is no less nude than she is. If a perpetrator, then a wolf in sheep's clothing. She won't learn anything of her predicament by avoiding them. ]

Hello. [ she calls, approaching slowly to within several paces. She stops there. She keeps an arm crossed across her chest, though her grip on herself isn't so severe as when she first awakened. ] Are you also lost?

LIKE THE ONE BEFORE — supplies

[ Within the gates, Genya is quick to adapt. The ambivalence of the townsfolk sickens her, but that indignation won't clothe her nor her companions. She tames her mussed hair by simply brushing it back. With some effort, she musters a gentle smile and approaches one of the locals. ]

Excuse me. Do you have any clothing to spare? A blanket, perhaps? [ She doesn't feel the need to explain the situation, as people continue to trickle in from the woods. Others made it here before she did. Their plight is obvious. What follows is a bit of back and forth, until her congeniality ultimately wins her some supplies. Far less than are needed: a blanket and two robes comprised of so little fabric they could be more appropriately called sashes.

Anyone she met on her way to the village, she will offer the first robe. The second she allows herself. It drapes across one breast, sewn at the hip and fluttering down one leg. Positioning it mindfully affords her modesty so tenuous, she's exposed by a light breeze. She supposes she has to be grateful it covers anything.

Genya returns to the gates with the blanket, and approaches someone who enters looking particularly distraught. ]

Here, take this.

LIKE THE ONE BEFORE — wax

[ Throughout the night, Genya repeats this process with whatever amenable-looking townsperson on whom she has yet to attempt it. They get wise before long. Then there's nothing left for her to do but observe. She wonders at the runes and what they denote. To that end, she strikes up conversation with a local, presenting herself as curious about the festivities.

The woman is happy to engage her. She barrels on sentence after sentence, regaling Genya with broad, flowery nonsense. Then, she spots someone behind Genya, and motions enthusiastically for them to join. It all happens so fast, Genya hasn't glanced over her shoulder before hot wax is poured onto it.

She hisses in alarm and steps back from the two of them, colliding into someone else. Instinctively, she shoves herself away from them, too. ] Don't --

ROOM & BOARD

[ She could have stayed longer. Could have found out more. But Genya was weary, and iller as the revelry continued. Somehow, that became the worst thing about it. It just carried on, convincing her beyond hope that what happened to them was nothing new. As if it has happened before.

Retiring before many others, she's able to secure the privacy of an empty room. There are two beds, though, and she expects she won't be alone for very long. How can she feel about that? She's exhausted. Worse than this has been foisted on her already. Genya wraps a sheet around herself and stands at the window, looking out. Her hand plays over her throat as her eyes begin to sting. The nichevo'ya took her sight and left her her tears.

The thought crossed her mind tonight that whoever is behind this is crueller than the Darkling. In this sobering solitude, suspended like the silence after a strike, she's reminded of other evils. Different in their methods, all alike in ruin. Degrees are an illusion. Evil is evil.

As the door creaks open, Genya hastily wipes her eyes and turns to regard the stranger entering. Her guard is up and she doesn't care to hide it anymore.

Evenly, head held high, ] Who are you?

WILDCARD

[ Feel free to toss something else at me, or PM journal or PP verhoeven to plot! ]

heartbeats

[blueshit]

[ By this point, Jesse's recovered a little from his own spider misadventure. He's still stumbling helplessly through the woods, lost and naked, but at least the spiders are gone. So things could be worse. Marginally.

He stops when he hears the voice, looking over instinctively. Animal instinct takes over before he can think, and his gaze darts up and down Genya's body, drinking in the sight of her in a split second before he jerks his head away just as quickly, staring fixedly anywhere but at her. Belatedly, he brings his own hands up to awkwardly cover himself, nodding his head in a jerky motion.

Jesse himself isn't much to look at these days. Skinny and malnourished, torso sprinkled with scars, hair and beard grown out in a ragged mess. He can't even bring himself to care, though, not even now, in front of a girl. Everything's too fucked for that. ]

Y-yeah. I guess so.

Sorry about, uh. [ He waves a hand in the air, vaguely indicating his own nudity, or Genya's, or maybe both. ] Y'know.

Jesse Pinkman | Breaking Bad

[blueshit]

why did it have to be spiders

Oh fffffffuuuuuuck -

[ Jesse doesn't even get a chance to get his bearings. One minute he's blinking himself blearily awake, unsure of where he is or what's happening. It's dark, cold, and that's about all he gets as he slowly pushes himself up on his elbows and looks around, squinting.

The next minute, the ground erupts in a wave and his eyes go wide with alarm and then horror. He's moving before he even knows he's doing it, running full pelt through the woods, yelling at the top of his lungs. His dick, never limper than it is right now, slaps his thighs as he crashes through branches and undergrowth, but Jesse barely registers that. He's got bigger problems right now. Big, ugly problems with eight freakin' legs. ]

Ohshitohshitohshit -

[ At least he's making himself known. Hopefully it's enough warning for whoever's in his path to leap out of the way before he smacks right into them. ]

it's a quiet village

[ By some miracle, either by luck or because he'd run into someone who had steered him in the right direction, Jesse manages to find his way to the town gate. He's calmed down from his spider freak-out, and sobered significantly as everything starts to catch up with him. For the moment, at least, shit's just kinda happening. He drifts through the crowd, following along with the flow wherever it leads, completely blase about both his own nudity and that of those around him. He doesn't even take the opportunity to gawk at all the exposed tits and asses the locals seem happy to show off.

The truth is, he looks like shit, and feels even worse. He's skinny, too skinny, with badly healed scars and some fresher wounds on his chest and back. The last thing he can remember that makes any sort of sense was jumping into a car and flooring it, laughing through disbelieving, bewildered tears as he left his captors behind. Then he'd woken up in the forest, and...

It's no surprise when he bumps into someone, lost in thought as he is. He blinks, backing up, holding his hands up in apology or maybe switching gears and leaning forward to offer a helping hand if his unlucky victim happened to end up on the ground. ]

Shit - sorry, sorry, you okay?

home sweet boarding house

[ Eventually, he makes his way to the boarding house, and by this time he's even got clothes on. The outfit is one he wouldn't have been caught dead wearing back in his old life, but here, he'd simply accepted the first thing offered and put it on without protest. It doesn't matter, does it? This is probably all some fever dream anyway. Probably he got shot after all, or is dying of some infection by the side of the road.

But one thing feels very real, and that's his hunger. His stomach growls audibly as he stares at the food the locals had cooked up, but even so, he can't quite bring himself to step forward and help himself to a plate. Anything good is a trap. He knows that much by now.

He's so hungry, though. ]

Is that - [ He speaks to the person next to him without looking at them, gaze still fixed on the food, barely moving his mouth. ] It's - it's for us?

wildcard

[ Want something different? Let's discuss on the interest check or at butteredcups! ]

quiet village.

[hasitsthorns]

[ Rose gives a squeak as she's bumped into and stumbles back a little. While she's about to give this guy a mouthful for not paying attention, he's... surprisingly quick to offer apologies. Well. Alright. That defuses any potential anger and warrants a bit of sympathy instead. This place is pretty distracting in a lot of ways. ]

Yeah, fine, [ she offers, giving a dismissive wave. On her end, she's wearing a black see-through slip that leaves literally nothing to the imagination beneath. ]

I get it. A lot to take in, huh? Gothic kink community was definitely not on my list of 'things I thought I'd wake up to today.'

jang hanseok | vincenzo | diabel

[devilspirit]

[ see content warnings for this character! ]

I. LIVING WITH IDENTITIES THAT DO NOT BELONG TO ME
EVERY DAY LIKE THE ONE BEFORE | OPEN

[ Awoken having been apparently teleported to what seems to be a fucking medieval European nudist colony (or damn close to one), and Vincenzo-fucking-Cassano's here. This really has been the year from hell.

After a fraught, aggravating limp through the woods with the single person he despises the most, Hanseok at last breaks from the target of most of his recent ire and heads toward the village square. He carries himself with confidence, despite the fact that he's naked against his will—so are all these other people, and he can just think of it like a jjimjilbang, in theory. A co-ed one.

Either way, he's got nothing to be ashamed of. As far as he's concerned his body is damn near perfect; he certainly puts the work in. If they want to admire, they can. Probably should. He's a work of art.

He quickly decides that it will be most beneficial to him to play his cards close to the chest, though, and to be someone other than Jang Hanseok. He assumes the role of Henry Jang, the man he'd been in law school at Stanford and undergrad before that; Henry, while a flirt, isn't the type to stare at people's naked bodies, so he keeps his eyes strictly abovedeck despite no real interest in whether or not doing otherwise might make any of the other new arrivals feel violated. Best to act as though he does care, to pretend.

There clearly aren't laundromats here, considering the number of clotheslines. He gets the general sense it's some sort of holy day—good. Fewer people home. Considering that he doesn't have any money, he's going to need to grab something; he waits until he finds a seemingly empty home with a small yard more or less obscured by hedges and picks a generic off-white tunic, changing fast.

Fast enough that when the gate opens and someone else strides in as naked as he was a minute prior, he's already clothed, with no signs of having taken his attire from the clothesline. ]

Do you live here? [ He knows they don't. ] It looks like your clothesline is about to come undone and dump all of your laundry. [ Hanseok points to the worn-down segment of hemp line where it's sawed against the corner of the home over and over again; it does look about ready to snap. ]

II. IN MY GOOD GIRL ERA (BUT I STILL FEEL BAD)
ROOM AND BOARD | OPEN

[ The first thing Hanseok does upon realizing that the room he's helped himself to has two beds—and that some people are already doubling up—is to pull the sheets from the second twin bed, stash them under the first, and look for something with which he can make the now-bare mattress utterly unappealing.

He wishes he had a fucking knife. Then he could just slash it up, problem solved. But to do that, he'd have to leave the room momentarily unattended with relatively little to indicate that it's taken... Hanseok pauses in thought, then decides it's worth it. He'll be quick, to the dining room and back. He returns to the thankfully still-empty room with a butterknife in hand and makes quick work of the second mattress, shamelessly destroying it with some effort (it's a butterknife, not one meant to actually cut, but its opponent is a nineteenth-century mattress probably stuffed with straw, so...). By the time someone barges in without knocking, he's already ripped a sizeable hole in it. His face betrays none of his perhaps disproportionate aggravation at the unwelcome interruption—instead he schools his features into something apologetic, a masterful, practiced imitation of the real thing. ]

Sorry, only one bed here. A rat got into the other.

III. WILDCARD

[ idea that's not on here! hmu on this journal or shoot a pp to bluehellgazette! ]

Room and board

[immapoorblindman]

[ The problem with overstaying for dinner was that he was late in looking for rooms. So by the time he was well and fully fed, he found that all the beds were taken and none of the rooms had less than two people... Exept one.

6' by European standards wasn't exceptionally tall, but Shades still didn't relish the idea of spending his night on a couch where his legs might hang over the edge, so the single room with the slashed bed it was. And he could definitely tell the difference between something gnawed on and scratched up by rats as opposed to cut up and mangled with a dull utensil, so that gave him plenty of warning regarding what type of roommate this was going to be.

Which was why he smiled disarmingly wide as he stood by the doorway. His sunglasses completely hid his eyes and that stick he found in the forest held in front of him like a makeshift blindman's pole. ]

That's alright. I won't see any rats anyway.

[ He shuffled in in sandals, wearing an easy tank top and trousers with a belt. Taking his time, he moved towards the other bed in clear indication he was claiming it before sinking down on its mattress edge with a long sigh. Moving barefoot through the woods the whole day made it for a tiring day, and he could think of a hundred worse places to sleep than in a fucked up bed with a possibly fucked up roommate. ]

Dinah Lance (Black Canary) - DCEU

[killersong]

[The sound of skittering starts before Dinah can open her eyes and register that she's naked in her forest. It takes her a minute to half raise her head, to blink and groggily groan before she realises that the little dots on the the forest floor are not just sight spots but in fact spiders skittering straight towards her. With a little cry, she sits up and begins to scramble backwards away from them. When she realises that they're not coming to attack or even come near her, some of the tension leaves Dinah's body. She unfurls and begins to take note of her surroundings. Forests and nature are far outside of Dinah's comfort zone: she's a city girl at heart. She reasons that she's got one of two choices; follow the spiders wherever they're going, or trace the line back from whence they came. She decides on the latter. Her priority is finding someone - Helena or Montoya or hell, even Harley at this point. She begins to pick her way through the trees. As soon as she sees someone, she shouts out,]

Hey! Hey! Do you know what the fuck is going on?

Little Town...

[Dinah makes it to the town and through the gates without incident.Once inside, she's greeted by a sea of people in the most immodest outfits she's seen - which is saying something considering she's from Gotham. She greets those who say hi with an uneasy grin and raised eyebrows. Eventually, when she sees someone who looks as discomforted as she feels, she approaches them.]

Where did you get your - uh - I dunno if I can call that clothes. But I mean, better than naked, right?

Religious ceremony

Is this a cult?

[Dinah has to laugh because the nerves are getting the better of her.]

I mean, yeah. Yeah. Why not, huh? Why not join a damn cult?

[She flexes her shoulders uncomfortably, the tattoos - a wilk symbol on her left shoulderblade and a canary on her right - rippling as she does.]

Go the whole damn way. Let them drip their damn wax - oh. Shit. I didn't mean -

[But a passerby has overheard her and taken her sarcastic words for permission and approaches with a candle. Dinah looks at whoever's closest to her.]

You ready to get freaky here?

Room and Board

[Dinah's not bothered about where she sleeps. It's not the first time she's found herself homeless and a boarding house is luxury compared to where she thought she'd be sleeping. She manages to claim a bed and sits down to start picking the bits of wax out of the bottom of her lox.]

Damn it!

[She looks up when she feels eyes watching her.]

Hey.

[She doesn't particularly smile but she's not hostile either.]

There's a bed there if you're tired. I mean, it's a free country so...

[She gestures to the bed.]

At least, I think it's a free country?

Religious ceremony

[taintedpeony]

[A townsperson gave him a cloak, but that did nothing to really hide his shame. He had no idea how he ended up in this situation. But he was here he supposed and this was happening now. A wilk mark adorned his chest where his heart was. He whispered to the woman who he was close to as people got him ready for this.]

Do you think this is a type of torture? Everyone seems friendly enough. But depending on the temperature of the wax...What kind of ritual is this?

Link | Breath of the Wild | wilk

[ohhshrine]

PAJAK WOOD

Honestly, Link has woken up without remembering where he is enough times that this is just kind of…a thing. Why is this a thing? This isn't even the first time all his clothes are gone! Luckily for him, he's not modest about that. He's just kind of put out. Having to start over again is irritating as hell.

As for the spiders? You know what, nah. Nah! Not fighting spiders barehanded, thanks. A spider, maybe, but not…this many. He's not at all afraid of them, he's just pragmatic about what he can accomplish without losing all his hearts getting killed by spiders, thank you. So he runs away from them, at least until he finds a weapon or three. And once again, this is…pretty familiar, really. He's been surviving in the wild long enough that he has no issue gathering a few things to eat and starting a fire. You're welcome to join him; again, he's not bothered by not wearing clothes. This is just, like, Tuesday for him or whatever. He'll share an apple. It's fine. (It's not fine.)

He hasn't noticed the (wilk) curse mark on his right shoulder yet either. Feel free to point it out.

EVERY DAY LIKE THE ONE BEFORE

Link isn't much of a conversationalist, but he manages to do well enough to get into town. He's still not modest, but still being totally naked here is a bit much. His ears are bright red for awhile until he manages to get some pants. He just asks someone at a stall how to buy some, and hey! They give him some. They're see-through pants, kind of gauzy, reminiscent of what he wore to get into Gerudo Town, but…better than nothing. Feel free to witness/join this interaction.

He is not above stealing, though, she might be convinced to help someone else steal something. Maybe. (Ya boy has taken some stuff from chests in places he shouldn't, okay, don't judge.)

Link has a bad habit of getting roped into other people's bullshit at all times, so catch him looking extremely uncomfortable but somehow agreeing to ceremonial wax dripping. He didn't quite realise what he was in for and he definitely looks like he wants to be somewhere else, but…well, he agreed and maybe it's not that bad? He's been through worse? It's not just his ears that are red now though. You could save him, but it would be way more interesting if you joined in and poured wax on him instead, wouldn't it?

ROOM AND BOARD

Finally, after all of that nonsense, when he goes looking for an inn, he finds the boarding house. He's very rarely slept alone in a room, but he's the first one in one of the bedrooms. Hey, score.

But that doesn't last, and someone else appears to join him. It's not like he needs two beds, so that suits him fine.

"You can have whichever one," he says. Bed's a bed, right? He's not picky.

WILDCARD

[ A secret fourth option! Spiders are not for me but anything else, let's do it! Link's monster is a werewolf bc I'm basic and also throwback to Twilight Princess.

Some housekeeping notes here: Link is from the end of Breath of the Wild, but I plan to canon update to Tears of the Kingdom at…some point, especially because the body horror potential is too good to pass up. For now, though, zero spoilers from me on that front.

I play Link as a trans boy. You see him shirtless a lot in canon so he is flat-chested; I have some specific thoughts on this that I won't get into right now but I have thought a lot about this. For sexual content we can have a whole conversation about more than that, but since right now it's just nudity going on, the relevant aspect is: definitely a boy, definitely doesn't have a dick.

Hmu at boywonder for plot purposes! ]

PAJAK WOOD

[moondregs]

Junpei isn't really sure how long he's been running. Time is all a huge muddle right now, and every little movement he catches out of the corner of his eye as he dashes through the woods is now another cluster of spiders in his mind.

But he's not the athletic type. He's used to chilling out in movie theaters, not doing 5k runs. As terrified as he is, he's also starting to lose steam.

When he sees the fire his first primitive thought is 'Spiders aren't going to go near that' and so he makes a beeline for it, deciding he's better off taking his chances with whatever being was intelligent enough to start a campfire than the arachnids.

Upon getting close enough to actually see Link, there's an unbidden wave of relief over him first ... and second, his eyes can't help but be drawn to those pointed ears. He's so distracted that before he knows it he's just awkwardly ... stumbling up the other, panting to try and catch his breath, struggling to think of what in the hell you even say in this situation.

"... s-sorry ... I'm naked ... I'm not a pervert."

He'll register Link is naked a beat later. Give him a minute.

Mad Sweeney | American Gods (tv show) | Wilk

[madaboutit]

Waking in the Woods

Fucking hell. Sweeney winces in discomfort as he groggily stirs. It takes several slow blinks to right his eyes, and the information they provide only makes things more confusing.

What the fuck?

Within the span of 30 seconds, he’s managed to deduce that he’s out in the woods, he’s not bleeding, and he is very naked. While there’s no blood, he hurts, and he isn’t sure why. Had he been in a fight? If so, he apparently kicked that prick’s ass in short order, without so much as a split brow from a calculated headbutt. Maybe he’d simply had too much to drink. It’s not like that was a rare occurrence. Blacking out is one of the best solutions to avoid the remaining option: he’s having a fit of Madness.

It’s the only version that makes being naked in the woods make any form of sense; he has the memory trapped in his head, doomed to live it over and over, twisting with other lives and other wrong-doings, all designed to punish him for the Sins humans had written him into. Hardly seems fair.

Sweet Bran, he needs a cigarette. He reaches instinctively for the one behind his ear, only to find it’s missing. Huh. Perhaps lost in the trip. His fingertips rub against the pad of his thumb as he seeks to manifest another from his Hoard. Nothing comes. Then no lighter. No Coin.

“FUCK.”


Back to Basics

Sweeney had already spent at least a lifetime naked in the woods, before he’d been Believed into being a Leprechaun. After that, he’d spent centuries as a hill spirit, a Man of the Mounds, thriving in nature while he waited for the patronage of humans looking for Favors, making Offerings to get them. Fresh bread, skimmed cream, and the most treasured gold. That’s long past, but those skills still serve him well.

Once that horde of spiders was promptly avoided, he takes to scoping out his options. Basic survival skills do wonders, and he’s able to collect fruit while he treks gradually towards the sound of water. He’s able to sharpen a long branch into a makeshift spear and sets a few drop traps in hopes of catching some game.

So when he hears someone moving about further along the way, his ears perk up. Standing his ground, his grip tightens around the wood, and he calls out to the stranger. His voice is gruff but not hostile.

“Might as well come out so we can get this shit sorted.”


Every Day Like The One Before

Once it becomes more obvious that the naked thing isn’t an issue, the coiled tension he’d been carrying starts to ease up. If society doesn’t give a shit if he’s naked, Sweeney doesn’t see the need to be either. He has nothing to be ashamed of, and he’s not at risk of suffering the negative effects of heat or cold.

That said, after half a day, he’s realized that clothing isn’t just for other people’s benefit; it’s also for his own.

He had spent years in the woods without clothes, but that had also been without people. And now there's a constant bustle of them, many of them giving him plenty of reason to be distracted. Sweeney can’t help it; he’s always had a weakness for watching, and now there’s a constant buffet of gorgeous flesh to savor as it wanders by on errands and casual visits. Unfortunately, that means he often finds himself at risk of distracting moments of arousal, and having it so blatantly in his view only makes him want to do something about it. And no one has time for that much self-flagellation.

So he seeks out the tailor, but finds only the vendors open. However, one of them is perfectly content to have his hand with some stock unloading and heavy lifting, and for the rest of the day’s work, he’s granted enough plain cotton to fashion some laced breeches. That’s better. It allows him to work and socialize far more easily, though it doesn’t do anything about the core cause, alas.


Festive Delights

When it comes to celebrating, Sweeney is a fan of festivals. In his very first Story, he had been a sun god, the king of the Tuatha Dé Danann, and the first harvest of the year was the fire festival Lughnasadh, celebrated in his honor. So it’s no surprise that he finds private delight in the local variation on the fire and bounty themes.

His preference is to find a good spot to take up with a broad view, but if he’s approached to join in the festivities, how can he refuse? It does no favors to be rude. When in Rome, after all. Or wherever the fuck this is.

Sweeney’s shoulder is already capped in wax and the runoff is trickling down his chest, when he hears the footsteps behind him. He twists and looks back over his shoulder, expecting to see a friendly face and a fresh bowl.

“Hey, luv. Don’t s’ppose ya got any different colo–” That’s not who he’s expecting. But that’s alright too.

“Oh–hey. Are you partakin’?” His mischievous smirk suggests that he feels everyone should try it at least once.


Room For Two

When it comes to accommodations, he just isn’t that picky. He also has a bad habit of forgetting things; both as a byproduct of his Curse, as well as his fondness for alcohol. There’s a definite swagger to his steps, and he occasionally braces himself against the wall as he makes his way along. Stopping at the next door, he peeks in.

“This my room?” he asks without any real cheekiness. Sweeney’s hoping to be met with an empty room, in which case, the answer’s ‘yes’.


Board, Not Boredom

Sweeney has no problem taking on menial labor to keep himself in coin or ale. From cobbling shoes to mucking stalls, it all needs to get done. He has a strong back, delicate fingers, and a ceaseless work ethic; as long as that shit keeps him set up to enjoy himself after. It’s easy to find him set to almost any task the townsfolk allow him to take to, and he’s got a habit of looking up from his work with a casual air.

“Hey, ya need something?”


Wildcard

Please feel free to hit me up in his inbox or at floofdoodle for plotting shenanigans.

Back to the Basics

[immapoorblindman]

The sound that the red giant would hear of another person was the sound of aimless whistling, carefully made into a tune that would let any potential other humans know that there was one more in their midst. True, it might attract predators too, but so would walking around naked with the smell of 'fresh meat' in an unknown forest.

Shades too heard the other man before he heard the shout, and a quick glance showed him that the other was just as naked as himself. Interesting.

Eyes completely closed now, he came out of the bushes, still whistling, and used the straight branch he found as a makeshift blindman's stick until he could find himself back to civilization and a pair of good light blocking sunglasses. His were misplaced -someone did anyway, not him- along with the rest of his clothes, leaving him naked as the day he was born -just considerably more scarred-.

"Any chance you know what's going on so we can start the sorting?" Because sure as hell Shades didn't.

Ivar "The Boneless" Ragnarsson | Vikings

[ragnarsson]

Awakening

[When Ivar awoke, he wasn't sure where he was, but he knew for certain it was neither England, Norway, or Valhalla. He had no idea how he got here but he wasn't about to lay about in the middle of the woods all day. That was a good way to end up eaten by something with sharp teeth.

He was further motivated by the sight of the spiders. Well, wherever they were heading, he was going the opposite direction!

Slowly and very painfully, he began to crawl through the woods, over rocks and grass, around trees and bushes. He hoped there was a town nearby but he was confident in his ability to survive for a length of time out here if necessary. He'd been in far rougher conditions than this before and come out on top. He could do it again now.

When he got far enough along, he stopped and began to sharp a rock into a crude knife. A Norseman with a weapon was never completely helpless and so he'd make sure he could deal with whatever he came across. The berries looked edible enough and so he gnawed on some to give him strength. Coming across a meadow where it looked likely that there would be rodents like rabbits or squirrels, he began to construct a crude snare for one of them. Patience was always the key. If you waited long enough, the food always came to you instead of having to do it the other way around.

If he came across someone else in the same condition during this time, he gave them a once-over look. His sharp, ice-blue eyes missed nothing and already he was trying to get a read on the sort of person before him. He'd always had a talent for that, being able to pick up on people's personalities even after just a sort conversation with them.]

Don't suppose you've come across anything better to eat?

[He'd ask conversationally, popping a berry into his mouth as he sat there. Honestly, the nudity didn't bother him as much as it could have. That was life when you lived in a place where people were in close quarters, even if you were son of the king like he was. What Ivar was painfully conscious of was the fact that his own legs, withered gaunt things with emaciated ligaments and no trace of muscle, were on display. He decided the best strategy was to just ignore them and hope the other person did too.]

Town

Once he'd gotten to the town, Ivar began to slot things into his mind a little bit easier. Much of the town's structure was familiar to someone from the ninth century even with the more "modern touches" in place. He set himself up right on the main street and decided to just sit there, observing what was going on around him so that he could gain a sense of the town's rhythm and its occupants. It also gave him a chance to observe those coming in through the gates. "I don't suppose you've got a better idea of what's going on?" He would ask some of them, in-between asking questions of the townsfolk.

Eventually, he was able to find some pants, thank the gods. It was always easy to gather sympathy playing the "sad helpless little cripple unable to walk" act and he used that now to get some clothes, just acting pathetic enough for one of the townspeople to cheerfully part with a (regular) pair of pants. He'd felt uncomfortable enough as it was having them on display for the whole world to see as long as he'd had. While he'd gotten pants, the most he'd been able to find in way of shirts was a leather vest that left pretty much his entire chest exposed. Eh, oh well, it would do for now. He'd been in far colder places than this.

Ivar began learning as much as he could about the god of those in the town, he seemed a bit reluctant to participate in the festivities. While he did believe there were other gods, the Norse ones of course were far superior. He'd engage others who had come in through the forest while talking with the locals about this. "Hey, you, listen to this!" He'd gesture for someone to come over and engage in conversation with the person he was already talking to, Ivar still sitting down on the ground or on a nearby chair. "Take a listen to what they just told me!"

Room and Board

[Ivar was quick to claim territory. Part of that is purely pragmatic. He wasn't about to try and maneuver his way up and the stairs each day just to get to his bedroom. Part of it was also that he could be a bit territorial when it came to what he saw as being "his."

One who came into the first-floor bedroom he'd decided was going to be his would find him sitting on the bed, still dressed in the clothes the townspeople had given him, and slowly sharpening his crude stone knife with a whetstone. The overall impression was one of a casual nature. He looked up for a moment before going to his work.]

Need help with something?

[OOC: A few notes about Ivar! He's sixteen, underage by most modern standards, but considered an adult in his own time period. He has osteogenesis imperfecta aka brittle bone disease, made most evident by the fact he's unable to walk without help since his legs cannot support his weight. Other signs are a bluish tinge to the whites of his eyes and the higher risk of his bones breaking by simple everyday activity. Unless a character such as a doctor from the twentieth century is familiar with the condition, it will not be evident what's wrong with him beyond the obvious fact he can't walk. He canonically is referred to by others and uses for himself quite often ableist slurs such as cripple in reference to his disability. Please let me know if you'd prefer for this not to come up! I can be reached at Light_shade or Lightshade#4738.]

awakening

[telepathy]

[ mavis lifts her gaze to him, watches as he complains about eating. her expression stays neutral, mostly flat, like she's not used to thinking about what anyone else is getting out of the twitch of her facial muscles. ]

What's 'better'?

[ not that she's found anything more substantial, but there were days that cactus fruits were the only thing she had to eat at all, and it'd felt like very good food. the sheer wealth of edible fruits and berries in these woods feels like paradisiacal to her. ]

Dr Gregory House | House, M.D. | Skala

[unorthodoc]

[ CW: comments & prompts may reference drug use/addiction and ableist slurs. ]

I. NO PLACE LIKE HOME - forest;

A;

[ Admittedly, House has woken up in worse places. Drunk tanks, grimy motels, back seat of someone's car, in a bed at Princeton-Plainsboro hooked up to half a dozen beeping monitors. But usually he at least has clothes on, at a bare (so to speak) minimum. This.. this is new. And cold. This must have been one hell of a bender -- though, weirdly enough, he doesn't feel hungover or like he's coming down. He sits up carefully, trying to ignore the thunderous pain rocketing up and down the frayed nerves of his leg that immediately tells him how long it's been since his last dose of meds. ]

Shit.

[ He doesn't know who he's talking to. Nobody. But cursing -- and, after a very undignified ten minutes, a nearby tree -- manage to get him up off the ground. The loss of his cane and the uneven forest floor is a conspiracy against his ability to actually go anywhere. Therefore he needs to find a solution, ideally in the form of a branch long and sturdy enough to support his weight. Preferably out of the way of those really nasty looking spiders.

So it turns out House's first hour in this new world is spent hobbling naked around the forest looking for a stick. It's a great start. ]

B;

[ Stick acquired, it's time to get moving. Slowly and carefully, with a lot of cursing. It's far from an ideal situation. As good as the makeshift cane turns out to be, it's no palmful of Vicodin, and it's not long before his body is screaming at him for relief.

He ignores it. He's got better things to do. Like finding some pants. And then a payphone so he can call Wilson to come and get him.

Although he recognises, vaguely, much of the flora and fauna he passes, he doesn't bother to stop and try to sample any. His stomach has closed up shop while it's in the grim business of survival. Nor does he make any sort of real decision about where to go -- he just picks a direction and starts walking -- or limping -- along, figuring that nearly anything would be better than dying on his naked ass in the dirt. ]

II. NOT IN KANSAS ANY MORE - town;

[ Arriving in the town answers a few basic questions, namely that whatever crazy night (or nights) he had has resulted in both amnesia and the ability to cross the Atlantic ocean and somehow end up in deepest Eastern Europe, and possibly back in time. Satisfied that he's either dreaming or having a very intense multisensory hallucination, House sees nothing wrong in stealing the first pair of pants he finds hung over a washing line in the muddy yard of one of the houses, hoping that they might fit. The pants turn out to still be a little short on the ankles, but they're better than nothing.

By the time he makes his way to the night market, he's also gained a loose poncho-type garment that smells like dirty wool but covers most of him, though it stays open at the sides. Between his clothes, his bare feet and the branch he's still using as a crutch, he assumes he's got a sort of backwoods hobo energy going on. At this point he's aware that he's thirsty despite the physical agony clouding his mind, so he sets about trying to barter for something to drink. ]

What do you mean you don't have any coffee? No, forget it -- I'll go find Ye Olde Starbucks. [ He turns away from the stall, too distracted and in too much pain to pay attention to where he's going, which means he's liable to bump into anyone coming the other way, which makes his makeshift crutch skid on the muddy cobbles. ]

Hey! [ He barks the word angrily as he straightens up again, trying to scrape together a little dignity. ] Watch it, cripple going through severe caffeine withdrawal here!

III. ALL THE FUN OF THE REN FAIRE - the boarding house & hospital;

A;

Well, isn't this tidy?

[ It's not. It looks like they're stuck in a Medieval Times. But House isn't looking a gift horse in the mouth, even though he's fairly sure they're going to to be sleeping with bedbugs or fleas or worse. He's already making a mental bet on how long it's going to be before he's dealing with a nasty case of bubonic plague. Maybe some typhoid. Exciting.

Still, at least he has a bed. He lowers himself down onto it without asking if it belongs to anyone, rubbing a fist roughly across the muscles of his bum leg, and looks over at his roommate. ]

Don't suppose you have any hydrocodone?

B;

[ One benefit of being 500 years behind everyone else is the fact that House is well outside of the jurisdiction of the DEA, so once he's more or less used to the idea that his dream is getting really weirdly detailed, he goes looking for the nearest source of high grade opium. As it turns out, it's both easily and freely available, especially once he shows off his leg and -- after some dickering -- volunteers a couple of hours in the crappy hospital's answer to a clinic. Cuddy's influence clearly extends into this netherworld of his subconscious.

He can be found there in the early days, stoned to the eyeballs but mostly upright, almost gleefully embracing the idea of making 70% of his personal problems worse in order to solve the other 30%.

When someone arrives, either a patient or another newcomer just checking out the facilities, he doesn't bother getting up off the bench he's claimed as his treatment area. His head is tipped back against the stone wall, his eyes closed, hands gathered on top of the slightly better formed cane carved out of the branch from the forest. ]

Hope you're not looking for reconstructive surgery, you should see the size of the leeches they've got working here.

IIII. WILDCARD;

[ OOC: I'm up for just about anything! Feel free to PM this account or ping me at laetifcat if you'd like to plot anything out. As a note, House's curse mark is Skala and is on his upper left chest, just under his collarbone. ]

III-A

[fisherwife]

[Having fashioned a blanket like a cloak to hide her more alien features, Mipha's really just poking around. She's not planning on staying long in the bedrooms, just trying to see if any have a bathroom attached with a bathtub she could lay around in at night.

But the man hobbles in--literally, and Mipha can't help but feel concerned for him. While her healing ability might not be able to do everything, it'd seem a shame not to try, eventually, if he let her.]

I'm afraid I don't. I've never even heard of it. [her tone is genuinely apologetic at least] Were you injured here? [She remembers those spiders, man...... not great]