TEST DRIVE MEME 001

[rubimods]

⚰︎ ⍢ ⌲ ⍚ 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

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.

Comments

[aban_aqun]

Bull shrugs.

"Depends on who's paying."

The Bull has always been selective in his contracts, in part because that's what builds a reputation people will pay for. The heft and the horns and the novelty of hiring a Qunari don't hurt, either. Regardless, he seems to have her attention now in a slightly different way.

[nootherway]

Leah tilts her head. “No one will pay you here,” she points out softly.

Not with money, at any rate.

[aban_aqun]

"Yeah, someone told me it's a barter system. I can work with that. Where I grew up wasn't all that different. People had their jobs, did them, got what they needed one way or another."

Bull shrugs one heavy shoulder. He's not concerned about surviving here as far as having access to resources. He is still mildly concerned how the townsfolk will take to his appearance. But he's coped with that before, too.

[nootherway]

“Did they, now.”

An idle question on the surface. It’s easier to pose them that way. People reveal more than they think: they want to talk, to communicate, to share pieces of themselves and kill the loneliness. In that regard, an interrogator’s art is less about pain and more about listening. And she is very good at listening.

“They’ll find a use for you, I suppose,” she adds, without much emotion. He’s tall, and broad: that sort of strength doesn’t come from nothing. The locals will put him to work if he lets them.

[aban_aqun]

"Mm, maybe they'll let me pull a plow."

Bull adjusts his position again and stuffs a small throw pillow under his right hip. Better.

"You never did give me something to call you," he remarks. Yeah, he noticed. And he's very pointedly not asking for a name in a way that might be identifying. She can tell him whatever she wants.

[nootherway]

She tilts her head, like a dog. Considering him yet again. He’s not her enemy—yet. She’s not certain what he is. Only that he has the sort of jokes that would have fit easily alongside her boys and girls in the field—he’s not human, whatever he is, but some things bleed true regardless. Mercs talk a certain talk, hold themselves with a deliberate sort of care. They’ve got a calmness to them that cuts through the disorder.

It’s comforting, she thinks, in a distant sort of way.

“I didn’t,” she agrees. And in a different place, she’d leave it at that. People start to noice if you wander around too long without sharing something, though. “It’s Leah.”

[aban_aqun]

He recognizes something in her, the stance she takes, the way she speaks (and doesn't speak). She could be one of his boys. Dalish had the same sharp paranoia in new places, around new people.

Bull meets her gaze, holds it, then slowly pushes himself to his feet. If he was big on the couch, he's towering now at seven and a half feet tall. His horns are nearly the width of his shoulders. The shape of him is hard and soft all at once - like any gladiator, the muscles working beneath his gray skin have a layer of protection, especially on the torso. In all, he's built like a brick. He offers Leah his right hand, big and calloused and still whole.

"Nice to meet you, Leah." Whether it's for the familiarity of the way she moves through the world - or doesn't, in this case - or his fondness for redheads, it is nice regardless.

[nootherway]

He rises to his full height. Leah tilts her head again, but she doesn’t crane her neck, doesn’t make the mistake of focusing on the horns or his hands when she needs to be watching the whole of him. He’s taken wounds over the years, some more healed than others, but she has a feeling he can move quickly when he sets his mind to it. She’s known big men. Fought with them, trained them, killed then when she needed to. More than that, she knows fighters, and the Iron Bull moves like a good one. Not just talk, then.

Up close, he’d overpower her easily. It’s not even a question.

She doesn’t flinch. Her breathing never changes. Best not make it a question of strength, then. But then he offers out his hand, gray-skinned and callused, and it takes her a beat to realize what he’s doing, making a gesture from a long-dead world that she half-recognizes from a memory.

Civilized people shake hands, don’t they?

The pause is, perhaps, too long to be polite. Nonetheless, she takes his hand. She has some of the same calluses, and familiar scars. Several of her fingers were broken and set, and healed heavy.

“Mhmm,” she agrees, though whether that’s true or not remains to be seen. But it’s been a lifetime since she’s spoken to a fellow professional outside of her boys and girls and there’s some vague respect in the gesture, a level of understanding. Perhaps it is welcome after all.

[aban_aqun]

The pause doesn't deter him or throw him off. He waits, and when she gives in, he notices the familiarity of the rough places on her hand. Even though his hand is significantly larger than hers, he's careful, doesn't make it feel too weird. Most of the people he knows are smaller than him.

"I won't keep you from whatever you're here to do." She stopped long enough to talk, which Bull appreciates. And he can't imagine they won't run into each other again. Especially if no one can leave.

[ooc: Bull's in! Would love to have him run into Leah again.]