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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 gentles, letting her off the hook. ]
I mean, it's your choice.
[ It's not like he's manipulating her or anything. Would John do that? He's so nice. She's probably just being weird.
He pokes the fire again in a small shower of sparks. ]
no subject
She unfurls her legs from herself, leans a little in his direction. Openly, visually, debates on reaching a hand towards him. ]
No, it's okay.. It's fine! I won't. [ Her tone insists that it's a promise. ] This can stay between us.
no subject
[ So earnest. What a nice guy.
He's kind of pleased that she reacts so well — he's a leader, and he knows how to get people to do what he wants. (That some people have called those cult tactics? They were wrong.) It's barely even deliberate, just how he is, withdrawing the warmth of his personality as punishment, then returning it in full love-bombing force. ]
Hair in question is looking pretty messy. Want me to see if I can figure out a comb for you?
[ As if she should care when they're in the middle of the woods. But the same way he's caught them food with his powers, he can fashion stuff out of bone. ]
no subject
Her hands subconsciously pull away from him, paw at her still vaguely wet hair. Droplets skim along her skin as she tries to wring it dry. ]
You don't have to, if you don't want to..
no subject
Course I want to. You're beautiful, and you deserve to feel beautiful too.
[ He rubs a thumb gently along her wrist, over the bump of bone. ]
I don't mind helping out. My curls could use a go through too, anyway.
[ Though he doesn't immediately break away to make anything. ]
no subject
Do you want me to..?
[ Do him first, she means, all the while never explicitly pulling away from his fingers curling at her wrist. ]
no subject
[ A flash of white teeth, charmed. She's so cute. ]
Wasn't what I meant, but you can if you'd like. Let me make the comb.
[ Which means pulling away from this intimate little moment, always emphasising that he's a gentleman (that he's not chasing, that he could take or leave her — not actually true, the rate at which he's developing a crush is tectonic but undeniable.)
He has enough self-awareness to know that necromancy can be off-putting, even if messing around with bones and flesh is so ordinary in his world, he remembers a time when it wasn't. So he'll go take care of it privately, using animal bones, and leaving Lottie by the fire.
When he returns he tosses it to her: a thick-toothed ivory comb. ]
There you go.
no subject
Thank you..
[ She says, a soft little mumble that's just loud enough for him to catch (arguably, only for him to catch). Her thumbs moves softly over the comb, her eyes fluttering up towards his. After pooling the thick expanse of her hair along her back, ]
..Can you do mine first, then? If that's okay?
no subject
[ He seems surprised; it's not exactly the kind of request often made of the Emperor of the Nine Houses. He would have been perfectly content just watching her do it herself, bare arms lifted over her head... ]
Sure.
[ He likes her, so sure. He comes over and kneels behind her carefully, putting his hands into her hair once again. ]
no subject
Truthfully, she half asks because bathing (swimming) has made her arms tired. The other half has asked because she is still thinking about the way his hands felt on her scalp, running through her hair, how nice and amazing it was. She stays still, pliant, for him as he makes puts his grubby palms back on well trodden land and she sighs quietly. ]
no subject
Such lovely hair.
[ By the time it's done, the urge to touch her is strong, and he runs his hands over her bare shoulders. ]
Your skin is chilly.
[ Concern soft in his voice. ]
C'mere.
[ They've done this at night, huddled together, so he doesn't feel too much compunction pressing up against her back to give her some more warmth than just the fire. He still plays with her hair, twirling it around his fingers to give her some wave at the end. ]
no subject
She gets that same feeling — this is nice — as John brushes through her hair, makes it silky smooth and soft. The last time someone did this for her was, well, an absurdly long time ago. And yes, these circumstances aren't ideal, but it helps get her mind off everything. On how her sinuses ache, the way her eyes feel tired and vaguely dry, how —
—her eyes flutter open when his hands run along her shoulders, and she makes a soft little noise. He mentions her skin is chilly, and— is it? She palms at herself, starts at her thighs, realizing she must've not even noticed.
He draws her in, just as she's about to apologize— the sorry doesn't come out in the end, when his front is to her back. ]
I should've been paying more attention—
[ It is normal for them, huddling like this. It's why she doesn't immediately draw away, but the fact there is two sources of warmth (one crowding her in the front, the other cradling her in the back) is new. It takes her a moment to rest her weight against him because of it — to find a comfortable spot where he can still fiddle with her hair and she can rest her head against his shoulder. ]
Are you sure this is alright?? You're gonna get chilly, too.
no subject
[ Just a murmur, since he's gone all soft with the skin to skin contact, far more touch-starved than he'd ever admit. Her skin is so soft, and — he's not the biggest guy, she's probably just as tall as him when she's in heels, but she feels so small when he slips an arm around her waist. It's like being lost in the woods with a beautiful porcelain doll: useless, breakable, but impossible to just discard. ]
Body's in stasis, basically. I mean, I can feel the cold, but it doesn't bother me.
no subject
[ Oh— it is soft and feather light, the way this comes out. He curls an arm around her petite waist and even with the minuscule height difference, Lottie manages to feel the right amount of small (that makes her more pliant, more keen to listen) to feel safe. She puts an arm around the one wrapped on her frame, thinking quietly. She's never related to that— really, everything John is, is considered an anomaly in her eyes and thus even harder for her to understand. But he cares for her, so she tries. Relaxes a little more against him now that she knows it doesn't really matter. ]
Has it always been like that?
no subject
[ He's relaxed against her, eyes closed, an always paranoid part of him keeping an ear out but otherwise chill. ]
Picked up the necromancy a while back and it just kind of stuck me in place. Can't even die - well, I can, but I get back up.
no subject
She has no idea what a zygote is, or means, but she completely nods anyway like she does because ooh yeah, he'd so be one of those. Luckily for her, he continues in far easier terms for her to understand (that doesn't make it easier to digest for her considerably normal, not necromancy inclined, palate). ]
..How long is a while?
no subject
[ A lie, but he thinks the truth will freak her out. Ten thousand years is beyond mortal comprehension. Hell, sometimes it's beyond his comprehension. ]
no subject
I get that.. It's like when you do something for so long things just happen, and time just moves. You don't really notice it.
[ Hard to keep track of it all, is what she means. ]