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

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. ]

i'm sorry about her

[telepathy]

[ she wipes her mouth, presses the same bile-damp back of her hand to her forehead as she tries to breathe. she pushes the bag away because the smell is only making her want to retch again.

she lifts her head, but not to look at him. she can feel the pity in him and like it's just one more too-bright light in the crowd. ]

Are you stupid? [ asking questions that he already knows the answer to, that are obvious. ]

she's perfect 😌

[umarell]

[ Nicky tilts his head a little to one side as he considers the question. Three words is all it takes for him to understand her, or at least the person she clearly wants him to think she is: spiky, sour, uninterested in playing nice. That's fine; he can work with that. ]

New surroundings, new rules, and I can't remember how I got here. I think it would be strange if I felt smart. Here, take this. [ He holds out the torn piece of fabric again. ]

[telepathy]

[ she stares at it this time, her frown deepening.

he's likable. that's ... dangerous. likable means that she could care about him and caring about him could get him killed. every day, she understands darcy a little more. ]

What do you want for it?

[ she'd asked darcy that question, too. ]

[umarell]

For this?

[ Nicky can't hide his surprise; the question just seems so utterly bizarre to his ears that he can't immediately wrap his head around it. He recovers quickly enough, but even so it takes him a few seconds to work out his angle. He can't be sure, but it seems to him that wherever she's come from, she's used to bartering, and certainly not used to being offered things freely. She seems proud. Proud people don't like accepting charity. ]

A conversation.

roommates

[illicitly]

Excuse me? No.

[Nie Huaisang got here first, claimed this bed as his own, and sprawled across it like an exhausted housecat. This day's been weird, he's too tired to put his mask of submissiveness back on, and he's not relinquishing this space. He does, however, shift position and move over to make room. Thankfully, he's of small enough stature that he doesn't take up a lot of space.]

But there. Now there's room for both of us if you want to share.

[telepathy]

[ even dressed now, mavis still feels naked without the wood-carved knife that she'd taken with her out of the kuruko camp the day she'd been exiled. wherever aristaeus put it when he took her, she's sure to beat the shit out of him and get it back eventually. but on her way out of the woods, she had settled on a sharp stone.

she sticks her hand into her jacket pocket now, feels around for it. it's a hefty size — enough weight that makes it useful to swing around, but not too big for her hand. she doesn't pull it out — yet. she's drunk. it's not a good idea to fight like this, vision hazy and limbs slow. ]

I don't share. [ it never goes well for other people when she does. she thinks of darcy. ] Last warning.

[illicitly]

[Oh, shit. She's armed. Is she really going to try to kill him over a bed? Because with how much strain this day has put him on him already, of course, his mind goes straight to the worst case scenario. For a second, all traces of graciousness (what little he could muster up in his drained, frazzled state, anyway) vanish, leaving a cold, calculating glint in his eye as he assesses her.

He's no fighter, at least not in the traditional sense but he's no pushover either. And getting on his bad side never ends well for anyone in the end.]

Isn't violence over a sharing a bed a little extreme and shortsighted? I don't think any of us are in a position to be making enemies in a place like this.

[His tone is casual and conversational, deceptively gentle and soft. Regardless of how this scenario plays out, he isn't going to forget and that can be a very dangerous outcome.]

[telepathy]

[ it's a smart call, pointing that out. mavis hesitates, her weight shifting a little onto her back foot. she's never had to worry about that kind of thing before. there's been nothing stable about her life. she's seldom slept in the same spot twice, seldom spoken to the same person twice since being exiled.

but this is a community.

she's finally a part of one, welcomed into it.

is she really going to risk being thrown out? ]

Enemies are only troublesome if they're stronger than you.

[illicitly]

But aren't many of us strangers here? It seems pretty reckless to me, going around picking fights with people you don't know. You might not know who it is you're dealing with until it's too late to avoid the consequences.

[When he smiles, there's something almost animalistic about it, like a cornered animal baring its teeth in warning. Then it's gone and his smile seems normal, even kind.]

Is there a particular reason we can't help one another out to our mutual benefit instead?

roommates

[blueshit]

[ Jesse's finally feeling like he can breathe, just the tiniest bit. He'd escaped the crowd of people, the loud, overstimulating mass of undulating, mostly-nude bodies on the streets outside. He'd even managed to find some food and clothes (of a sort) for himself.

And then he'd found privacy. A quiet, empty room, one of the few left unclaimed, and a bed. A real fucking bed, holy shit, with blankets and pillows and the whole fucking thing.

It's a far cry from the pit he's been living in for months, kept captive and tortured, half-starved and exposed to the elements. He sinks onto the bed slowly, as if afraid it might simply dissolve into nothingness beneath him, and lets out a slow, shaky breath.

Which is exactly when the door busts open and he looks up to see someone else, standing over him and demanding that he leave. For a moment all he can do is stare up at her, his brain and body completely unprepared to handle the challenge. ]

It's mine.

[ It's all he knows to say. He can't move, go back out into the halls full of people, maybe end up curled into a corner somewhere to sleep on the cold, hard floor. He just can't. ]

I found it.

[telepathy]

Finding it doesn't mean shit.

[ she scopes it out. it's clearly not the best of the rooms. he'd gone to one that was in a far corner, it seems — deliberately, to avoid competition? it's so antithetical to her people's practices that she can't make sense of it.

but even through the static of inebriation, she can sense it in him, too. something similar to what she's feeling. that panicky overwhelm that's so ready to boil over. it's like staring down at the worst of herself, all the weak parts that she wants to excise.

it makes him look pathetic. ready to give up, despite what he says. there's no honor in kicking his ass, even if it might give her some kind of catharsis. ]

Are you willing to fight for it?

[blueshit]

It's mine.

[ He repeats himself calmly, but with a quiet emphasis behind the words. All the rooms are up for grabs here, as far as he understands it. He'd found this one. He'd claimed it. He'd done everything he was supposed to do.

He blanches briefly when she asks if he wants to fight, eyes flaring wide for a moment before he narrows them, his hands curling tight around the edge of the bed. ]

I don't want to fight.

[ But it's not a no. He will, if he has to. He can do that, right? He can still fight. If he has to. If it's what it takes to keep this room, to have a safe place to sleep with a wall at his back and a pillow under his head. ]

I don't want to.

[telepathy]

If you aren't ready to fight for it, then someone else will come and take it from you.

[ she's too fucking soft-hearted. she should be the one fighting him, now. he's weak enough that it would be easy, and she'd have a comfortable place to sleep, and she'd be fine. she should be looking out for herself.

but she can't bring herself to add to his very obvious miseries. ]

If it's not me, it will be someone else.

[blueshit]

[ Yeah. She's right. He knows she is. Jesse shakes his head, looking down at the floor. He's in no shape to fight anyone right now even if he'd wanted to, still malnourished and weak. But what if the next person doesn't just ask? What if they just take it? Kick him out or worse? ]

Aren't there enough rooms for everybody?

Why's anybody have to fight anyone?

ᵒʰ ᵐʸ ᵍᵒᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐᵐᵃᵗᵉˢ

[ludomania]

[ Felipe's head turns to the door when she barges in. first he's slightly alarmed by the sudden appearance, but then after quickly concluding that she's no threat in her current state, he makes no attempt to sit up. comfortable and half-naked, he's laying on the bed with his hands casually resting on his stomach.

instead he offers her a warm smile. it's not quite genuine, but he means no harm. ]

I know. I was hoping to talk to you.

[telepathy]

[ well, at the very least, that makes him interesting. as far as people trespassing on her space goes, he's not the most unforgivable. ]

Why me?

[ she lingers in the doorway, her eyes lagging across the room, searching for anything he may have disturbed. ]

[ludomania]

[ he hasn't touched anything. he saw the bed and went straight for it, taking up all the space like he was claiming it. the day has been long and he figured he's earned the rest. ]

You remind me of someone.

[ he makes a vague gesture with this hand, then lets it flop back down like he was too exhausted to finish the idea. ]

Have we met before?

[telepathy]

Doubt it.

[ she doesn't recognize him, but he might have had some kind of scarf protecting his face from the sun. there were clans that kept their warriors in head coverings to protect them.

she studies him, frowning. ]

Who?

[ludomania]

Felipe.

[ like that explains it. ]

Are you going to come in? You can tell me what happened.

[ he doesn't look like he has any intention to move from the bed. ]

roomies c:

[deathstiny]

[Oh. A bold one. It's somewhat refreshing, even after the strange day he's had. He studies her, a long and purposeful sweep of her form with glowing red eyes, before sitting up.

He doesn't stand, of course, and simply remains perched on the edge of the bed. There's confidence in his voice -- a challenge.]

Is that so?

[telepathy]

One way or the other.

[ she steps out of the way of the door, to give him the option to accept the loss of the space willingly. the alternative, of course, is the hard-edged look in her eyes. ]

[deathstiny]

[Perhaps predictably, Wrathion does not move. Instead, he gives a small tilt of his head.]

Come now. You will need to do better than a toothless threat.

[telepathy]

[ hm.

it's inconvenient that he wants to test her. she doesn't want to fight. she's not in much condition for it, frankly, with the migraine she's got and the liquor in her blood.

but she's also ready to sleep for all the same reasons, and she won't be doing it with him in here. so she steps forward and grabs for his foot so she can start hauling him off the bed. ]