rubimemes | TEST DRIVE MEME 001

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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

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ His episodes of rage are likely manic so it'll likely be different to use pain to stop the raging bull.

Step one was successful. Step 2 requires that Vincenzo be near a weapon if a tackle is successful. Their train of thought isn't so different: if the smaller man goes down, the disadvantage would be too difficult to overcome by sheer force of will.

He takes a step back. Then another. With a step to the side, there should be a rock within reach if he falls. ]

I'm happy enough here.

[ Vincenzo steps back; Hanseok steps forward, keeping the small amount of distance between them static. It's clearly not fear, or cowardice, or an attempt to de-escalate: he's trying to get him to strike first, and he wants to move the battlefield into position here, on this patch of ground, though there doesn't seem to be much difference in elevation.

Hanseok's eyes skim the damp earth, not without observing the presence of a stone half-emerging from the leaf litter. This guy. He'd had similar thoughts about bashing his brain in with a rock himself, but it's just annoying, seeing them rehashed a second time by someone else. ]

What, you plan on hitting me to death with a rock? [ He scoffs. ] Good luck.

[ And—because he's decided he's had enough fucking around—he swings at his jaw when Vincenzo blinks, hand clenched into a hard fist. ]

[ Rocks are just as hard and unyielding even if they're not a surprise. It's also not his first place but his backup. Vincenzo has studied martial arts long enough to put his faith in skill, but he'd be a fool to be so careless when fighting a psychopath.

With a duck and a dodge toward the rock, Vincenzo keeps himself close enough to the weapon to allow for a step forward and swing at Hanseok's jaw. Smaller or not, he isn't weak. ]

[ Vincenzo dodges with fluid grace both surprising and unsurprising: of course he has some sort of training. He catches him on the corner of the jaw a half-second later, a hard hit that Hanseok partly but not fully escapes from. Fuck, his stupid knuckles are bony. It might even bruise. Already this is pissing him off. ]

You have hands like a woman, consigliere!

[ He strikes out again, with more force, this time, like that's the deciding factor as to whether or not it'll hit—while taking a hard step forward into his space, still mindful of the presence of the half-buried stone. There are bound to be plenty more behind him, but Vincenzo hasn't had time to catalog where those ones are, and he won't be able to find one in the frantic struggle that starts when someone's fighting for air. Choking the life out of him is probably going to involve getting him on the ground, and it needs to happen where that complicating factor is out of reach. ]

[ The insult doesn't even register; his roles in life came with no small amount of cruel words so Hanseok's mean nothing to him. They're in a dance with a fatal outcome so he can't allow his attention to wander even for a moment. Vincenzo plans to keep on the move but with the rock always in reach.

It isn't a bad plan, but the problem lies in the terrain: he's used to fighting in cities. Concrete and forest floors aren't comparable, and though he manages to just barely dodge the next punch, it causes him to step into a thick collection of foliage. When Vincenzo tries to step away, his leg gives out instead, his ankle still in place. Thankfully, he's able to bend in a way to keep the leg from twisting, but already, he's falling. ]

Che due palle!

[ Just as Hanseok sometimes falls into English, Vincenzo exclaims his surprise in Italian as his body hits the ground. ]

[ There it is: the moment he's been waiting to seize. He couldn't have arranged this better had it been deliberate. Vincenzo goes down and Hanseok goes after him, heart racing in his chest. Here it is, finally, and he's able to do it himself instead of having Choi Myunghee hire someone to take care of it. He finally gets to kill that mafia bastard.

Hanseok delivers a hard punch to the jaw as soon as he comes to crouch over him, damp pine needles and twigs sticking into his bare knees as they press down into the forest floor on either side of his narrow hips. He grabs the man's shoulder as Vincenzo fumbles and leans forward, moving all of his weight to that arm, doing his damndest to pin him like a dead butterfly to the moss and dead leaves as the other hand comes to rest over his throat—lightly, without pressure, dragging out the moment.

Savoring it. ]

Look me in the eyes. I want to remember this for a while.

[ Annoyance, anger, fear; Vincenzo is as human as the next man, and the cycle of emotions quickly rush through his body. The landing is far from soft, and then, there's a harder, bigger body atop his. Hanseok is smart to pin the hand closest to the rock. It leaves Vincenzo with one free hand, and he's sure it'll stay that way since one will be needed to strangle him, but there's nothing beneficial nearby.

The punch is painful but just a preview of what's to come.

Vincenzo, for all of his murder and experience, still managed to have a youthful, bright gaze, but those eyes are wide now.

Think. Think. He can probably gather a handful of smaller rocks and sticks and hope for a lucky cut when they're pushed into Hanseok's eyes.

The stare narrows. His eyes calm and regain some confidence he doesn't feel. If he is to die here, it won't be begging. To the side, his hand searches for the most hopeful pile of... anything.

The swallow is certainly felt by the hand against his throat. ]

I'm sure I'll see more impressive devils if you succeed. I don't need to see another one here.

[ Even now, when it's already clear he's won, Vincenzo is trying to get under his skin. But regardless of his bravado, Hanseok doesn't miss the brief widening of his eyes, the obvious fear: of him, like a rabbit in the last moments before a hawk opens its talons. It's intoxicating, a raw thrill that shoots through him like lightning, right along with the gratification of feeling the man's throat move under his palm.

He's dimly aware of the rush of warmth to his crotch, the fact that he's getting hard off this. How could he not, with the man he despises entirely vulnerable beneath him, waiting for him to snuff out his life like a cheap match? He has beautiful eyes, in the moment before they narrow in a resentful half-squint.

Vincenzo fumbles in the pine needles at his side for anything he can use; Hanseok laughs. And then he moves his weight forward, bears down on his throat and squeezes with one hand at the same time he pushes downwards, careful not to use enough force to break his neck. He has a specific death in mind for him.

In English: ]

I win.

[ Luck, fate, destiny; there are a lot of words with roughly the same definition. In reality, it feels like something worked to assure Vincenzo was out of his comfort zone and shoved into this battle. His training was reduced to nothing the moment he was thrust into the hills with a bigger enemy.

It would be infuriating if he wasn't about to die.

Finding nothing to use as a weapon and missing the arousal between Hanseok's legs, Vincenzo decides on a more direct approach and aims for a punch. The worry is that his opponent is, for all of his namecalling, stout enough to endure the blow even with Vincenzo's target being that smug face.

He doesn't want to die out here, in the woods, where his body will likely be undiscovered unless Hanseok plans to drop it off as a 'gift'. ]

[ Vincenzo, interestingly, struggles not by trying to pry the hand off of his neck but by trying to use his free arm to throw a punch. It hits, of course; Hanseok isn't going to let him come up for air by dodging. The hard blow smarts beneath the skin over his cheekbone, but he doesn't shift his weight or loosen his grip, simply takes it, then leans forward to bear down harder: punishment, like a burning factory spitting glowing sparks into the night sky. ]

That's so rude.

[ His dick, completely hard at this point, does brush the inside of Vincenzo’s knee in the struggle—and, despite himself, his own breath catches in his throat for a split second at the sudden introduction of friction, especially given that he's staring down at this guy at the moment it happens. He doesn't plan on devoting any thought to the implications of this later. ]

[ In the midst of being choked, Vincenzo keeps most of his focus on Hanseok and his impending death. It's possible he'd have passed into the next life without ever noticing his demise is worth arousal if his attacker didn't inhale in quite the obvious manner.

Confusion somehow manages to worm its way into his thoughts. He'd seen the look of excitement on Hanseok's face when he had the gun to his head and somehow, the noise reminds him of the ... was it joy that shined in the president's face? In his line of business, Vincenzo managed to meet a lot of people, and an adrenaline junky is hardly rare, but they don't often ascend to such a level.

Finally, in an almost comical manner, Vincenzo realizes it isn't a stick or branch pushing against his thigh. It's too thick, too familiar of a shape. Panicked, angry eyes somehow widen further as he glances down and sees proof of Hanseok's erection. Those same eyes then meet the dark ones that are having far too much fun with a murder. The question is obvious: what the hell? ]

[ For a moment, the fear and anger he's been basking in are eclipsed entirely by a much more complex emotion: bewilderment. Vincenzo's a torturer, so he's not sure why it's a surprise that this rush of power, that seeing the man he hates like this is enough to get him hard—there has to be some part of Cassano that got off on what he did to those people in the photographs Hanseok's man retrieved from Italy. His methods were too creative to be a result of the cool, calculating exterior he's tried to show to the world.

But Hanseok's different, he's special. He sees right through him.

He meets Vincenzo's gaze unwaveringly, silently urging him to let the fear return, to allow him to resume drinking in the deep gratification of the moment—whether it be sexual or otherwise. ]

[ What if he doesn't? His lungs are burning, and his eyes are beginning to water. Vincenzo isn't someone who'll go down without a fight so he isn't close to losing consciousness yet, but he knows it'll happen. Frantically, his mind scrambles. Hanseok wants fear. If it's missing, will it change his plan? Will the predator get the same satisfaction if the prey isn't what he expected?

It likely won't change a thing but really, what choice does Vincenzo have?

The knee that comes out in an attempt to hurt him doesn't have the leverage to be painful. Instead of the harsh kick Vincenzo aims to deliver, his knee brushes against the erection as if attempting to offer more friction. He's neither a prude nor especially sexually active, and there has been little to no sexual thrill in his own murders. It's pleasurable, but in a way that excites his mind more than his body.

Being the kill wasn't his goal, either. ]

[ God, you son of a bitch.

It's getting hard to focus. His erection's throbbing, that weak little attempt at a kick rubs right against it instead, and Vincenzo's still struggling, the doe eyes beginning to water as life slowly leaves him. Hanseok squeezes harder against his trachea out of spite; if he breaks his neck and ends this right now due to his own heavyhandedness, so be it. He's making a fucking point here. ]

You are so—annoying, you know that?

[ He lets out a shallow laugh, a little breathless himself even without a hand around his throat. ]

Just die already.

[ Desperation leaves him with fewer and fewer choices. He's doing to die here, a body unidentified if not used as a shocking point to his friends.

No, he can't allow it. There are too many things that would be lost if he loses here, and Vincenzo has far too much to do to simply fade away. Perhaps he's never been a hero for justice, but somehow, in spite of the blood on his hands, Vincenzo has found himself entrenched in a fight that doesn't only affect his life.

Unsure if he'd be satisfied with simply maiming Hanseok, he reachings for those angry, glaring eyes. Fingers viciously try to dig into the sockets. If a punch is incapable of making him move, perhaps the risk of blindness will do it. If Vincenzo can force his weight back even a little... ]

[ And that is what happens. This fucking maniac goes for his eyes like he's trying to claw them out instead of punching like a man; Hanseok shuts them tightly and reflexively leans away from the swipe—in the process taking some of the pressure off of Vincenzo's throat.

In English, though it's not like it makes a difference here, given that he's had some conversations with people who definitely speak neither English nor Korean: ] You son of a bitch!

[ Vincenzo's thoughts exactly; with Hanseok's weight off of his body, Vincenzo pushes forward, trying to get enough pressure away from him to crawl out from beneath the hulking form.

Damn it, why did the guy have to be so big? He supposes smaller hands would have been even more painful, though. Not that there's an optimal way to be choked to death aside from simply not being choked to death.

He can't be allowed to get a second chance.]

[ That slippery little fucker, like some kind of... eel. Vincenzo does manage to partly free himself; Hanseok swings a fist at him, though it quickly devolves into much less dignified and clear-cut grappling.

Twigs and pine needles and sharp little rocks dig into his bare knees and, at points, the sides of his legs, as though to remind him of why it was primitive humans developed clothes. He's pissed off now, struggling with him to reclaim the thrill of wrapping his hands around his neck, burning with the humiliation of having lost that grip to begin with.

But still hard.

Furious, and humiliated, and involuntarily aroused, and their struggle—the feeling of flesh on flesh and the occasional brush of his thigh, or, god forbid, his dick against Vincenzo's own, in the one fleeting moment when their bodies overlap in just the wrong way—is doing nothing to diminish the problem.

Just fanning the flames, although at least he imagines that Vincenzo probably won't fare much better for much longer. Stimulation is stimulation, and it's kind of fucking difficult to wrestle someone naked, someone infuriating but objectively attractive naked, without getting hard.

He hates him for the fact that he's the only one with an erection at this moment in time, too. ]

[ Though some people may have seen Vincenzo as some hero, those same souls had never seen him on the killing end of a murder. His hands are no cleaner than the psychopath above him, but he's never made those good people who look up to him a target. As other people find disgust in Hanseok's actions, Vincenzo finds anger and annoyance. Choking men to death? It's juvenile, not shocking. The innocent souls killed in their struggle? Vincenzo can mourn their loss, but the methods are tame compared to the mafia.

Hanseok's a monster.

Vincenzo's a monster.

So, while they're enemies, he doesn't have the same blockage as some might regarding sexual arousal. The lawyer doesn't pretend to hold some kind of moral high ground. So, during the struggle, when he's no longer actively dying, the continuing brush earns more of a stirring between his legs than Vincenzo would have imagined. Hanseok is a handsome man with a build that screams masculinity and though he's been cold while in Korea, Vincenzo is no stranger to sexual relationships. Monsters don't deserve love, but that doesn't mean they don't partake in pleasure.

This is ridiculous. He's fighting for his life so why the hell is Vincenzo growing annoyed instead of fearful?

Because he doesn't want this attraction, shallow as it may be. ]

This is...getting ridiculous.

[ He doesn't want to want Hanseok. ]

[ He thinks this is ridiculous? ]

Just—die already! I have things to do!

[ He makes no effort to hide his growing aggravation; this is drawing on and on with no end in sight and it's really starting to piss him off. Vincenzo is, to his credit, a talented fighter; he'd have to be to get anywhere in the mafia while at such a physical disadvantage.

His dick brushes against Vincenzo's; it occurs to him alongside the sudden surge of gratification that Cassano's getting off on this. He's half-hard himself, something that brings him immense smugness. Freak!

Hanseok laughs, mouth widening into a flash of teeth even as they continue to struggle. ]

You get off on getting killed? You're sick, Vincenzo Cassano.

Don't assume you're killing me.

[ It's an annoyed snap, perhaps even a bit childish before he's able to compose himself. His world isn't full of unicorns and rainbows, but he's certainly not accustomed to getting an erection mid-attack.

As if that is even the most important part of the taunt. ]

At your age, you should know it's a physical reaction. We're both naked, and your method of attack is messy.

My method of attack is messy?

[ He shoves the man's bare shoulder down against the forest floor again, hoping the branch he hears snap under Vincenzo's scapula is digging into his naked skin. ]

You tried to scratch my eyes out like a woman. And what does me being naked have to do with it? Are you admiring me? Vincenzo Cassano?

[ Another sharp laugh, even as they continue to struggle; mocking and gleeful, as though he's entirely immune to the way Vincenzo looks struggling beneath him, the hate burning in his doe eyes, the fact that it feels really fucking good when the head of his cock briefly brushes Cassano's body again in the grapple. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

TEST DRIVE MEME 001

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cw strangulation/murder attempt from here on out!!

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