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TEST DRIVE MEME 001
⚰︎ ⍢ ⌲ ⍚ 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.
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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
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Mad Sweeney | American Gods (tv show) | Wilk
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
Back to the Basics
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.
Re: Back to the Basics
"Well, I ain't a fuckin' nudist." Get that right out of the way.
"Woke up down that way." Sweeney gestures with his free hand. "Haven't seen anyone else." He squints a little, assessing as much as he can, beyond the 'naked' part.
"You?"
Re: Back to the Basics
"Neither am I!" Shades exclaimed like to not do so would imply he was a nudist.
"So it's a forest where they like depositing people naked." With his eyes closed, he hadn't quite registered that they weren't even speaking the same language quite yet, just that he had no trouble understanding the redhead.
"Last memories?"
Re: Back to the Basics
Sweeney's hand finds his chest at the base of his sternum, and he rubs it subconsciously as his gaze drifts.
"Pretty sure I was in a fight." One he may or may not have died in. Yeah, he definitely doesn't want to go fishing for that shit. Instead, his eyes refocus on the stranger.
"You too?"
Re: Back to the Basics
"Don't think so. Pretty sure I was in the city." For once. He was between jobs, trying to scrounge up something to make money and therefore unlikely to have met with any of the circumstances that might land him here.
Where was here anyway? "Do you know where we are? Doesn't smell like we're near a city."
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Room for two
He looked up at the newcomer and gave a soft polite smile. "You are welcome to the other bed if you like. No one has claimed it as of yet."
Re: Room for two
He ducks enough to avoid bumping his head on the way in, and shuts the door before plodding to the bed. Collapsing heavily on it, he smiles into the pillow. Yes, this is much better. He'll happily sleep in his breeches. They're simple in shape and made of black cotton, loose-fitting to the knee and laced below. He'd managed to fashion them from a drape of cloth he had traded for labor.
Sweeney mumbles, trying to push the words past the muffling of the pillow.
"You have a good time at the thing?"
Given the man's busy picking off wax.
no subject
"Ah? Well, more like I was accosted by some overly enthusiastic townspeople. Thier customs are strange but who am I to judge them when they provided food and shelter here?" he brushed off a bit of the fallen wax off the bed. He was going to sweep when he was done.
"I am Jin Guangyao. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." he started politely. though he felt that this man was more on the casual spectrum of things. "What do you think of this place?"
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"Warm food an' a warm bed fer the cost of a little labor? I'll take that shit with fuckin' bells on." There's that other thing to add, he reminds himself.
"Haven't been ta a hedonist holy day in a stone's age."
no subject
He looked up curiously at the other man.
"Does this type of thing happen where you're from? In my culture, it would be rather scandalous. Though it does not stop most from pursuing their own hedonistic pursuits elsewhere." Like the brothel, he had grown up in and often had to pull his father out of.
"There are sexual rituals, like dual cultivation to help strengthen the qi in your core, but that is usually only done between two people."
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back to basics
A self-recriminating sigh. It had been a step of retreat. He's very tall, very large, and she can see now that he's fashioned a weapon. While Genya is not as helpless as she looks, and does know how to defend herself, she's weak with thirst and hunger. If she liked her chances, she wouldn't have been about to vanish back into the woods.
"I mean you no harm," she calls, reluctant to approach. Genya peers out from behind a tree, eye on his spear. Her bedraggled mane of red hair contrasts the green of the surrounding wood, not unlike his.
Re: back to basics
He doesn't loosen his grip on the makeshift spear, but he also doesn't brandish it in any fashion; instead, it's kept low and pointed downward.
"You out here on yer own?" the Irishman inquires, his eyes making a quick survey of the area behind her without straying too far, lest she get the drop on him.
no subject
The hesitation speaks for itself. There's no camouflaged force she can threaten him with, and she chooses not to lie about one lest it antagonize him.
"I don't know how I came to be here." She raises her gaze to his face. Steady.
no subject
"Yeah...me neither." Confession offered in kind.
"You know what ya were doin' b'fore ya woke up in this fuckin' place?" Looking for context seems another logical place to dig around in.
no subject
"I'd fallen asleep. Reading, I think." Sleep doesn't come easily to her, and it it can be unkind when it does. But her nightmares have never been anything like this. "In Ravka." She studies his face for any hint of recognition.
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Festive delights
"Jesus. Good to meet you. Any recommendations?"
Re: Festive delights
"Didn't f'gure this fer yer scene." Even with the 'saving prostitutes' thing, most Christs don't have the reputation of supporting debauchery.
"Or ya here ta save folk from themselves?"
Re: Festive delights
He laughs. "No, I like a good party. A bad one, too, sometimes. You can call me Paul if that's easier."
Re: Festive delights
"Oh--so Christ an' an Apostle all wrapped up in a neat package, lookin' fer a good time?" Sweeney isn't sure where to even start with that shit.
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room for two
He's pressing a hand to the bed and looking around, still in his makeshift pants and bare-chested.
Glancing up at someone entering his periphery, Ubbe stands a little straighter before shrugging.
"Is it?"
Re: room for two
"You see any on that one?" Since he's been in here, his tone suggests.
Re: room for two
"No, take it." Ubbe replies. He turns, glancing out the window. "Have you learned anything about this place yet? Like how we got here? How long we are meant to stay?"
Re: room for two
"Hell, only thing I've got so far is 'probably some magic shit that hates clothes'." Admittedly, that's not very far.
"Given the warm reception and hospitality--" The free expression of raw sexuality and friendliness of those sharing it. "--I ain't given much thought ta leavin' just yet."
Waking In The Woods
Alright. Now, the question is, does she walk towards or away from it? She’s confident enough in her own combat skills that she chooses to pursue the foulmouthed stranger, thinking that at best they’ll be able to help her and at worst she can take them down and steal their clothes. It’s a massive disappointment when she reaches Sweeney and finds him to be as naked as she is, but she doesn’t trust him. Not yet.
“Any idea who dropped us here?” Elizabeth asks, in a voice that’s just a little too smooth and measured for a woman who should be freaking out.