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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.
a poor thief;
( his voice is surprisingly steady, but beneath that touch of humour, he's reluctant to give up the shirt if only because it's the only thing keeping his hands from shaking. )
Though I suppose needs must. ( because guess who also would sooner die from hypothermia then wear a mesh bodysuit? )
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Kirigan—
[ that expression is more than startled. it's the kind of bone-deep fear that comes with the certainty of reprisal. he has hunted her here, tracked her, and found her. she can hear baghra's voice in her mind, scowling at her for her naivete.
her heart pounds in her ears like the drums in the street. ]
I ... [ she's naked. he's naked. these things filter in slower. trickling into her awareness. she turns her face quickly away, resolutely not looking directly at him but keeping him in her peripheral vision. there's something rabbitlike about it. or perhaps, more accurately, doe-like. ] ... Where are we?
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( since this is apparently how they're playing it. he has to admit, he's disappointed. confused and a little angry, too, although the latter was directed less at a person than at whatever had brought them to this place.
and had then compounded the insult by apparently taking all of their clothing.
the moment stretches, pulls taut, and while it would be nice to say that his decision to pull on the shirt has less to do with his own pressing need for warmth than it is because he doesn't want her to be embarrassed further, it would be a lie.
even so — ) What's the last thing you remember? ( an entirely reasonable question to ask, given the circumstances. )
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she lets him take the shirt. she doesn't know what else to do. when she'd been in the woods with mal, it had seemed so easy. just run and never look back. with mal, she had been brave enough to think that she could find the stag and be strong enough to fight kirigan, to stop him.
but naked and alone, no stag and no mal, faced with him again properly? she doesn't find rage in her hurt. only fear.
she folds her arms around herself. slowly, she decides that it's better to put her back to the black heretic than to continue standing naked in front of him, and she turns away for both their dignity.
it also gives her a moment to think. she's gone. he'll have noticed that, of course. it's been weeks since she fled the little palace. she combs hair out of her face, doing that math. but she hadn't fled alone. she thinks of the faces of the thieves who'd tried to kidnap her. ]
I was ... I was in the woods, in north Ravka. I was running ... [ all true. ] I've been running for so long. Ever since they took me from Os Alta. But the suddenly I woke up, and I was here.
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the problem is, he knows that this isn't the case. knows that she'd somehow found her way to the oretsev boy and that they were hunting the stag.
some part of him wants to press her on this, to make her admit it, but he decides to swallow down that urge and play along for the moment. )
I was worried. ( which is true enough. being called away to deal with the attempted assassination only to find alina gone? worried might is an understatement. )
Marie is dead. ( offers her that context. ) Likely at the hand of whoever took you.
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how could she not guess that it was he who'd hurt marie, and not the kidnappers who she'd escaped?
he'd killed marie. maimed genya. what else was he going to do before he was done. she presses her eyes shut, draws a deep breath to try and quell that distress, that guilt, that fear. drags her hand down her chin and lifts it, fighting against the tightness of her lungs. ]
I don't know who they were. Why ... Why would they kill her, and take me alive?
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( he tugs another garment from the washing line: a shirt, smaller than the one they'd fought over, however briefly. he offers it to alina, dark eyes lingering on her face before his expression softens. )
It was quick, at least. Painless. ( it was neither of those things. they'd wanted a spectacle, and they'd made sure it was. ) She did not suffer.
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she'd fallen for it.
she tells herself as she takes the shirt that she won't this time. that she has seen the brutal and bloody truth writ across genya's body.
slowly, she puts the shirt on. it's a linen thing that drapes rather insecurely until she notices the leather buckles that hold it around like a bodice. once it's on, she realizes that it's too long to be called a tunic and too short to be what she would call a dress, but a dress it seems to be.
she pushes hair from her face and turns to face him properly in it. the strange leather harness feels like it only accentuates the parts of her body that are lacking, making her look as foolish as she feels, but maybe that's for the best. let him think she's a fool rather than a traitor. ]
She died. Of course she suffered. You've just grown used to seeing it.
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That would make the authority, wouldn't it? ( his gaze lingers a moment longer than necessary as she begins to fasten those buckles. there's something in the way she handles them, the precision of her fingers, that pricks at him.
artist's fingers. )
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[ heretic, she thinks. the black heretic.
but she feels small and still under his gaze. those sharp words are the only weapon she really has, disguised in the fog of grief as justifiable.
she looks down because she can't stand the intensity of his gaze and only then realizes that — he's found a shirt but not pants. and she's staring at his penis. she sucks in a breath and redirects her gaze, looks quickly back up at the dark sky and presses her palm to her forehead. ]
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They call me that because they're too afraid to use the name they really want, at least to my face.
( and for good reason. his alleged connection to the black heretic made many uneasy, but he had earned his reputation as a troublemaker all on his own. )
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[ she gestures, then turns to pick through the laundry. she doesn't find much that's promising, but she does find a very short pair of shorts that looks like it's more intended to emphasize than cover. she holds them out without turning. ]
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he still takes them. begrudgingly, but he takes them. pulls them on, up over his hips. )
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[ she glances back at him over her shoulder after some moments and is satisfied (? perhaps the wrong word) to find that he does, in fact, have the shorts on. and they are indeed emphasizing more than covering.
it's not much of an improvement.
in a way, seeing him in such indignity is an added insult. the most terrifying man in history, in the world, and he's barely contained in his trousers. it's absurd in a way that seems to mock all the pain he's caused, hers especially. ]
That's not much better, is it?
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( although there really isn't much dignity left to take from him at this point.
he casts about the clothesline, looking for anything resembling a coat. )
One wonders how they survive the winters here. ( with clothing that seems intended to reveal more than it covers. but then, he remembers the square and the townsfolk sporting their candles and decides that he's perhaps asking the wrong question. )
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[ that's much preferable, really. getting out of there. she studies him, then, her thoughts racing. maybe, they didn't all need to get out of there. maybe, they could leave him to the spiders on their way back to ravka. ]
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( this is not, in fact, the first time aleksander has been abducted — although it has been some time. someone went to great lengths to bring them here, to ensure they were left vulnerable.
aleksander is intrigued by their apparent abandonment. usually, their captors would make some sort of demand give and given they have both ravka's black general and the sun summoner in their possession, they could ask for a substantial ransom. )
Come on, we still need to find you some trousers. You won't scandalize the locals, but I'm sure you'd prefer they didn't see your legs either.
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she can remember his hand on her thighs, lifting her onto the table in his war room, and her skin crawls. ]
I can do it on my own. [ abrupt, defensive. she swallows. it's too obvious, too pushy. ] I mean, there's no need to stick together. We'll cover more ground if we split up. Learn more about this place.
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If I didn't know any better, Alina, I'd think you were trying to be rid of me. ( lightly, a touch of humor to an observation that would otherwise be rather uncomfortable. )
Trousers, first. Then we can discuss strategy.
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but she can't very well say so, can she? if she did, she'd wind up in genya's position. the bottom of her stomach drops out just thinking of it. no.
instead, she turns back to the clothesline and keeps sorting through their options. ]
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and, while alina starkov might be the sun summoner and perhaps the closest semblance to an equal he has ever encountered, she is still a child.
with so few choices on their current clothesline, aleksander considers moving onto the next — or potentially breaking into a neighbouring house. he glances across the street, accessing the options. the square had been busy earlier. surely one of these houses has been left abandoned for the evening? )
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[ she tries the door, finds it locked, but then moves to the window and presses her palms to the glass. they are sticky enough with sweat and nerves that she is able to shift it up from the sill, which allows her to wriggle her fingers under it and wedge it up the rest of the way.
climbing in means lifting her bare legs up, exposed beneath the drape of the skirt, but she does it quickly as she slips inside and leaves aleksander in the yard on his own.
the house is empty and quiet. by the looks of it, it belonged to a small family — a couple and at least one child. there are no dishes left out, but there is a book on the table and some papers on the table. three coats on the rack by the front door, across the big open middle-space of the home.
alina makes for the stairs and heads up them, making an assumption about where the bedrooms might be. it's strange, how familiar the layout is, how similar to ravka when everything else is so foreign. by their belongings alone, the people living here really just seem ... normal. ]
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a glance around his surroundings, checking for observers, then returns his focus to the lock. with a twist of his fingers, he coaxes the darkness into a slender tendril that he slips into the keyholes. )
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there are clothes in the drawers. some of them like those on the line, but some that are more clearly work clothes. she pulls the pants out of the drawer and holds them up. too big for her, but for aleksander ...
she throws them onto the ground, furious with herself for considering helping him. she places her hands on the dresser and stares into her reflection in the glass covering the picture hanging on the wall. what is she supposed to do, when he'll know what she's done and she's not strong enough to fight him?
she turns around and picks the pants back up, folds them over her arm.
when she hears his footsteps on the stairs, she steps back into the hall and offers it out to him. ] Here.
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moreover, these trousers appeared to be long enough to provide ample coverage beyond just rear. a definite positive. )
Thank you.
( awkward as hell, but he's definitely going to be pulling these on immediately — over the short-shorts — because his dignity has suffered enough blows today. )
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