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Entry tags:
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.
✧ ✧ ✧
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.
no subject
[ He still doesn't quite get it, but the implication is clear. Jesse shoots the huge pots of soup and loaves of bread a wary look, and doesn't move to get any closer and help himself. ]
Yeah, sounds like a fuckin' blast.
[ His tone is sour. It's not the first time the idea of a cult has crossed his mind, and he's not thrilled about the possibility. Plus, he's hungry and it looks like it might be safer to skip dinner. His stomach growls audibly, and he bites his lip, tryging to ignore it. The hunger'll pass. It always does. ]
If they're in a cult, maybe they're tryin' to drug us. Like roofies or something, y'know? Get us all, I dunno, indoctrinated or whatever.
no subject
[ The snark is easy, but House can't miss those furtive little glances, as well as the tell-tale signs of malnourishment on his new buddy. If he really has been living on the streets, it obviously hasn't been a particularly successful experience when it comes to feeding himself.
Despite himself, House feels an unusual pang of pity. He sighs, letting go of his own need to cause trouble. His voice dips down lower, into something that actually contains a scrap of human emotion. ]
Look, seriously. I'm sure it's fine. [ He wags his plate vaguely towards the cooks. ] Most drugs wouldn't be effective in that kind of stuff anyway. And judging by what I've seen in the infirmary, they're barely acquainted with germ theory, I don't think they're quite up to mass brainwashing yet. Go on and have something to eat, kid. You look like you need it.
no subject
And fuck, he's hungry. He'd had a few berries in the words, but they hadn't come close to satisfying him, and that soup is smelling better by the minute. There's another long moment where Jesse just looks at the other guy, and then he nods, and goes to meekly accept his bread and soup. He doesn't even care that it's charity. It's food.
He's not quite so far gone, though, that he doesn't glance back at House, in line behind him. ]
Are you gonna eat?
no subject
[ He's here for a reason, after all, though the conflicting neurochemicals in his system mean that it's more to try and force his appetite to start working than because he's actually hungry. He knows he needs to eat, therefore he's in line.
House steps up to receive his own portions, nodding his thanks at the young woman serving them. Once he has it all balanced in one hand, he gestures towards an empty bench and a table in the corner. ]
You wanna be my dinner date?
no subject
[ The deflection is immediate and instinctive. Jesse was too pretty for his own good once, and he's occasionally gotten unwanted attention, from men and women alike. It takes him a second to remember what he looks like now. That he's definitely not someone this guy or anyone else would wanna be hitting on.
But no. He's half-starved, wearing borrowed clothes, scarred and unshaved, and the closest thing he's had to a shower in months is the time that Jack's guys would turn a firehose on him and laugh as the water pummeled him hard enough to bruise. He's lucky this guy's stomach isn't turning just looking at him. Or smelling him. Jesse cuts himself off halfway through whatever he was about to say, shrugging his shoulders and turning towards the empty table. ]
Yeah, sure. Whatever.
no subject
[ When it comes down to it, House has seen worse than this kid. Working in a hospital means losing your preciousness about what happens to human bodies when they're hurt, or hungry, or unwashed. And this guy seems interesting enough for House to ignore most of that stuff.
He follows him to the table, leaning on his bone cane. Sets his bowl and bread down carefully and lowers himself onto the bench with a sigh. ]
So where did you come from? Gonna go out on a limb and guess that the stuff in the forest wasn't your first time out in the wilderness.
no subject
He's too polite to ask about it, though, just sliding onto the bench across from House and immediately shoveling a spoonful of soup into his mouth. Fuck, it's good. He's still got a mouthful when House speaks, and for a moment he just stares comically at him, cheeks puffed out and his brain stuck processing before he finally swallows. ]
Uh.
[ The wilderness? Maybe that's one word for it. He grabs his bread just for an excuse to look away, tearing off a chunk. ]
Yeah, it - was pretty messed up out there, huh?
[ Which in no way is an answer to the question the guy had actually asked. But he'd been caught off guard, and besides, he's not about to start dumping his sob story on a stranger over the first real meal he's had in months. ]
You see those fuckin' spiders? Freaky, right?
no subject
He's not as hungry as his new friend, but he knows to eat when food is put in front of him. The soup isn't that bad, though a bit heavier on the root vegetables than he'd prefer, which is to say that it contains any at all. ]
Really freaky. [ He agrees readily; those things made a brown recluse look like a puppy. His gaze lingers on Jesse, trying to figure out what's making him twitchy, besides the obvious. ]
You wake up with of these?
[ He hooks a couple of fingers in the collar of his loose linen shirt and pulls it sideways to show the new mark inked into the left side of his chest, just below his collarbone. ]
no subject
He does look up to peer at House's collarbone when he pulls his collar away from his neck, just staring for a second before it clicks and his eyes go wide. It's a different symbol than his own, but yeah. ]
Hey, shit, yeah, I did. Mine's like...a coffin, though, kinda?
[ He's got no shortage of ink - the stylized scorpion on his wrist is fully visible, and his borrowed shirt is cut low enough to offer a glimpse of the dragon on his chest, too.
But he's never been in the habit of blacking out and waking up to a new tattoo he has no memory of getting. So when he'd discovered the tiny coffin marked just in and below his hipbone, it had been one more unnerving mystery on top of a whole stack of them. He looks at House, his food temporarily forgotten. ]
You don't remember getting it either?
no subject
Please. If I were going to get a tattoo while wasted out of my skull, it would be way more badass than this.
[ He lets go of his shirt and goes back to stirring his soup, eyeing his new friend for a moment before he drops his gaze back to his food, granting him a little personal privacy. ]
So what should I call you?
[ He doesn't care, usually. Doesn't need names of the people he doesn't plan to know very long. But something about Jesse compels him to ask, to make that gesture. ]
no subject
It's a good thing House doesn't share his thoughts on the tattoos. They're weird for sure, but Jesse's got way bigger problems to worry about at the moment. He goes back to eating his soup, only glancing up again at House's question. ]
Jesse.
What about you?
no subject
[ He toys with his soup a bit more, then drops his spoon and sits back, reaching under the table to rub his thigh with his hand, as if it's cramped up. ]
Dr. House, technically, but I'm not sure if I'm still board certified in darkest Transylvania.
no subject
[ Unique, for sure. He notices the way House rubs at his leg, almost thoughtlessly, like it's an old injury flaring up, but doesn't comment on it.
He does look impressed when House reveals his profession, though, his eyebrows going up. ]
A doctor? For real?
Yo, you could make a killing here, I bet. I don't think they exactly care about shit like certifications around here, y'know?
no subject
[ He doesn't sound entirely concerned about it; more interested in the challenge than anything. Still, it's going to put a dent in what he can actually do. ]
We're nobody here. My medical degree, my training -- it means nothing. I might as well be some guy off the street. I can reinvent myself.
[ He tears off a piece of bread and sticks it in his mouth. ]
Kind of cool, right?
no subject
Reinvent himself. Here, he's not Pinkman, wanted by the DEA and the cartel alike. He's not a meth cook. Not an outlaw. There's no Gus Fring, no Todd, no Mr. White. That's all back in Albuquerque. A different world. A different lifetime.
Here, he's just Jesse, and nobody has to know anything about him except what he chooses to tell them.
He nods, carefully, then finally looks back up at House. Intrigued, but also curious. ]
Why would you wanna reinvent yourself, though?
Being a doctor, that's like - the dream, right?
[ Doctor. Lawyer. The highest you can aim for in life, at least from what people like his parents and teachers always said. Although the one lawyer he'd known...well, he hadn't exactly been the classy type. Maybe some doctors are the same way. ]
no subject
As for the questions -- he rolls a shoulder in a shrug, dunking bread into his soup before he sticks it in his mouth, chews and swallows. ]
That's what they say.
[ It's not everything, though. It's a lot, but -- ]
If this is a vacation from our normal lives, why not be someone else for a while? You know, try it out.
no subject
So he nods, mopping up the last of his own soup with his bread and casting a not-so-discreet glance back at the serving table, wondering what the policy here is on going back for seconds. ]
Who would you be?
[ He flicks his gaze back to House, actually meeting his eyes this time. ]
If you could be someone else, who would you choose?
no subject
He looks down at his soup, stirring up some of the vegetables from the bottom of the bowl, then glances back up at Jesse. ]
You think I could be Carmen Electra's bra?
no subject
Then he snorts, and ducks his head too slow to hide the flash of a grin as he shakes his head. ]
No way, man.
I totally got dibs.
no subject
Aw, come on! She's got plenty to go around. We'll trade cups.
[ He glances around the kitchen. ]
We really need to get a TV in here.
no subject
He just scoffs, rolling his eyes, but the smile lingers on his face, and his heart feels a little lighter than it had before. ]
Shit, yeah. Fuckin widescreen plasma. Theatre seating. The whole thing.
[ He pauses, the smile fading. ]
...Do you think they'd even, like, get any channels out here?
[ Wherever here is. Not that there's any TVs around for them to check. ]
no subject
[ He makes a face, though he's still looking around the room with an air of faint hope. It's only been a few days but he already really misses TV. The idea of being stuck in a place without anything to distract him from the constant churn of his brain isn't very appealing.
His attention ticks back over to Jesse, then back down to his soup. He pushes the bowl across the table. ]
Here, finish that and we'll get out of here. Find somewhere more interesting to hang out. There's got to be a sports bar around here.
cw abuse, murder, ptsd
But Todd had done this too. Lowered a bowl of ice cream into his cage. Bought him a pizza and a six-pack of beer. Put an arm around his shoulders to gaze at the horizon and say life is what you make of it. Small kindnesses, expressions of gentleness offered with no expectation of repayment.
And he'd also beaten him until his face swelled up so much he couldn't see out of one eye, and chained him up in a barn and forced him to cook, and shot Andrea in cold blood when Jesse had made a break for it. He'd never once raised his voice. It's not personal. It's just business.
Todd would do this too. Give Jesse the rest of his soup and then say let's get out of here. Find a bar, watch the game. How does that sound, Jesse? I'll take that gun.
He flinches. Shakes himself. This isn't Todd. He isn't here. This guy, he's a cripple. If he tried to hurt Jesse, Jesse could just whack him with his own cane and run away. But he won't. He won't. All that is in the past.
It's in the past. He nods once, slowly dragging the bowl across the table, fingers tense and clawing at the sides. Todd is dead. It won't happen again. ]
Yeah.
Yeah, uh. That sounds good.