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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.
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His state of dress was an insignificant factor; he could be naked for all Ianthe cared if it meant he wasn't drunk on the floor, bawling his eyes out or any of the other ways he had been acting over the last six months. It was pathetic, seeing an all-powerful man come undone over the spilled blood of traitors. So what if he knew them so personally; Ianthe has practically grown up with Naberius and she hadn't shed a single tear over him. She'd tell him to get over it but was afraid he might explode her it a fit of grief for doing so. It was a sad state of affairs but at least the Emperor looked more... put together than he had since Seven had caught up to them.
It was always disquieting how unassuming he came across unless flexing his power as the Necrolord Prime. But if he didn't want these people to know he was the god she spoke of, Ianthe would play along. Using the Third House charm and grace she rarely bothered with, Ianthe redirected her current partner to another so she could see to another 'supplicant'. Only then did she give the Emperor her attention, beckoning him in as though he was just some John.
"I like your openness to the prospect. Praise be to the Undying King," she said to him, still playing her part. She leaned in close, dripping wax across his exposed chest, and continued to speak in a low voice that wouldn't carry beyond the two of them.
"There's only so much I can do with these people until I know why you brought us here. And I'd like warning next time you decide to drop us into the River. I've spent hours on whether your other half was capable of throwing me in." Obviously the Emperor would know by now that Alecto was awake.
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"Praise be to the Undying King," he echoes, keeping the amusement from the lines at the corner of his mouth.
The Saint of Awe is only his ally for so long as he serves her, has no innate loyalty but to her sister and to power; but what she responds best to is feeling superior, in control of the situation. She does her best work when someone pathetic needs her: as with Corona, and then with Harrow on the Mithraeum. He has relied heavily on that these past few months, drunk and grieving and giving her free rein. Fancy title and all the might of his empire in her gilded bone fist.
So John does not take immediate and relieving command of the situation — but he also doesn't risk asking her about Alecto. "It is not by my power that we're here," he says, because any lie to the contrary would pop like a soap bubble within the day. He doesn't know where they are or how to leave. His dark eyes are urgent, expression just slightly beseeching. "If we're in the River then it's not in a way I understand. Though we might be deeper." Would he recognize hell, after all, or all the unresurrected souls he's entrapped there?
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Though now she was back to the Alecto theory that the Emperor apparently wasn't going to clarify unless Ianthe asked him directly. He's lucky she won't do so right in front of all these people. But still, mysteries that even John Gaius didn't know... what an opportunity. And how utterly terrifying. It was invigorating.
"I'm going to be very upset if I pulled you from that just for us to end up there now," she replied, eyes narrowing. "Though..." Her expression changed to a more thoughtful one. "Have you been to the far east through the forest? Where it gets dark and the spider are called." That impenetrable blackness they call the Void here was harder to sense now that she was in what passed for civilization here, but it was still out there.
no subject
He pauses, and it's clear that even with his voice low the others around have noticed his serious demeanour is at odds with the atmosphere they're supposed to be cultivating with this wax, all playful reverence. There's sideways glances, hushed words exchanged, meaningful looks as the movement of the group changes to get closer to their conversation. And he gets the impression the townsfolk are wary of discussing the void, let alone mapping its borders, so he stops from saying what he was going to say. There will be time enough for planning, away from these strange souls.
"We'll figure it out later," he says firmly to her, authority clear in his otherwise mild tone. "Might have to go easy on the Necrolord-Emperor stuff, these folk seem pretty entrenched in believing something else." And despite his earlier joke he doesn't plan on positioning himself as competition since he's well aware of what a danger a month of fanatics can be.
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Her eyes flickered to those closing in and considered what she could do to redirect them away, but then the Emperor decided to rein her in. "As you wish," she replied. "Some of them were more interested in looking at my ass than they were listening to my words anyway." Ianthe still wasn't aware that she had the mark of the diabel.
She offered the candle she'd been using to him in case he wanted to go play with the sheep surrounding them. "Have you seen any other familiar faces here?" Like Coronabeth.
no subject
"Yes," he says, and before she can dare hope: "Harrowhark is here." Her other sister — he's spent six months speaking with her in dreams, so it doesn't surprise him to find her alive, nor that their connection has reunited him. "It will be nice to see you reunited," he adds, in mildly patriarchal tones. They'll never get back the brief familial time on the Mithraeum, but Harrow and Ianthe's sisterhood and friendship is as important to him as Mercymorn and Augustine's was.
no subject
"Good. I didn't like her in the hands of--" She cut herself off, not sure if she wanted to reveal to the Emperor that the Saint of Duty had joined the list of traitors. "I tire of New Rho. I'll deal with them when we return."
Note to self: Destroy New Rho. With Coronabeth and Harrowhark no longer there, the planet can be made an example.
"Oh- Thanks," she said, a little surprised at the unsolicited generosity, as one of the locals draped a pretty woven shawl across her shoulders.
no subject
"That's nice," he says of her new clothes, though he's already wondering if he'll be able to replicate the iridescent labcoats he'd put them in before. "People here are generous. I think we want to keep them in a good mood." If they're on one of the far outer planets who haven't yet signed one of the in-perpetuity trade deals with the Nine Houses that could be the difference between staying stranded and getting home. If they're in Hell, well... nobody he left there to rot strictly deserves the kindness, but it couldn't hurt to show it anyway. They've suffered their punishment in the way Blood of Eden never had to.
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"They haven't given me a reason for anything else." Yet. Also, Ianthe was trying to ingratiate herself to the locals. At least for now. She pulled the shawl so it hid where the bone of her arm became exposed. "And I do like the generosity."
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"I find ways to have fun anywhere I am, my Lord." Others might not agree, but Ianthe didn't really care if it was fun for them. "I'll try to keep the spectacle down, but no promises."
no subject
Anyway, he nods to her, and goes off to enjoy the rest of his evening — though he'll touch base again briefly in the cold light of the morning to make sure they know where the other is staying and suggest a regular confab. (He looks like he probably got laid, so she's absolutely correct to surmise he's still being a bit pathetic about everything. He's stopped drinking, at least?)
no subject
And then she went to bed and left the Emperor to his own devices.