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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.
Ignacio "Nacho" Varga | Better Call Saul | Wilk | cw: mentions of suicide
[The last thing Nacho remembers is putting a gun to his head and pulling the trigger. So, all things considered, the last thing he expects right now is to be awake.
Being in a forest and being naked are also near the top of the growing list of things he's very confused about. He shakily gets to his feet, eyes wide, looking not unlike a scared animal ready to bolt.
And then he sees the spiders.
It's a blur after that, running and tripping and running some more. He very nearly succumbs to their webs several times, but Nacho is a born survivor, even when he should be dead. He makes it west in record time.
By the time he runs into someone else -- quite literally -- he's out of breath and filthy. His body is covered in old scars: bullet wounds in his right shoulder, the left side of his stomach, and two on his shaved head, one on either side. His left shoulder bares a scar that looks not unlike two shards of bone stuck just under the surface.
Frantic and panting, he stumbles back after running into the other person. His brown eyes are wide as dinner plates, and he doesn't say anything, seeming primed to bolt in the other direction if need be.]
[Every Day Like the One Before]
[This has to be some sort of weird, oversexualized afterlife, right? That's the only explanation that makes sense. You don't just survive a gunshot point-blank to the head and wake up completely fine in the middle of a forest.
And this town... It's just as strange as the woods were. He openly stares at the townsfolk in their downright slutty garb. No one looks twice at his bare body. He doesn't like being naked in front of everyone, though, so he approaches a couple and gently asks them if they can spare anything. Both the man and the woman excitedly chatter as they duck in and out of their house to grab him something to wear.
He ends up in a mesh shirt and a pair of shorts that, aside from the color, are absolutely not his style, to say the least. The boots are at least a little more acceptable.
He thanks them with a smile anyway and goes about his business. Which is... what, exactly? His business should be "being dead." But here he is, some strange symbol on his body, alive and... close enough to well. He wanders around with a blank expression on his face until someone dancing in a crowd of people tries to draw him in.]
No, gracias. [He slips into his second language as he backs away, shaking his head. The person urges him again to come join, but he refuses a second time.] No. No, that's okay.
[She doesn't seem to want to take no for an answer, so Nacho looks over at the next-nearest person, meeting their eyes. He raises his brow, a silent assist, please? in his gaze.]
[Room and Board]
[Nacho feels exhausted by the time he gets to the boarding house. He wanders into one of the bedrooms and collapses face-first into a bed without so much as checking to see if anyone's claimed it already. Oops. He just needs to rest his head, try and wrap his mind around what the hell's going on. He shouldn't be alive. He shouldn't be. So why is he?
He thinks about his father. His last conversation with him. Thinks about that bastard Gus, that slimy Hector and his horrendous nephews, that fat pig Bolsa who screamed so perfectly when he stabbed him in the leg. Did they do this somehow? Save him and drop him in some foreign country where everyone dresses like strippers? Ay dios. None of this makes any sense.
He misses his father. Just wishes he could have seen his face one last time, but now he's alive and away from him still, when he'd already resigned himself to death. He doesn't realize he's doing it, but he starts to sob into the bedding. All the ugly emotions he'd been avoiding since realizing he was about to die come spilling out on the backs of big, wet tears that clump his lashes and wet the pillows.
He just needs a minute. Please stand by.]
every day like the one before.
( Ko is small and slight and dressed in a similar get-up; shorts far too short and a top that exposes his hips, too tight over his chest.
He reaches forward to grab at Nacho's hand — gently, though his hand is necrotic and cold to the touch, which might be ... freaky. )
I'd been looking for you, let's go. Excuse us.
( And he meets the woman's gaze briefly, pulling Nacho aside and away without room for protest.
Once they get far enough away, Ko speaks again, crossing his arms as he walks. )
This place is new to you too? You don't seem like a local ...
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...Yeah. [He looks around, licking his lips, mouth feeling dry.] Yeah, I... [He shakes his head, chuckling without humor.] ...Are you supposed to be dead, too?
[Maybe that's too strange to say. Oh well. He has nothing left to lose, doesn't he? Might as well fish for answers.]
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( Ko looks Nacho over then, looking for any sign of a dead point. )
I'm Handead, but it seems I'm the only one around with a visible dead point.
( He stops in his tracks, brow furrowed for a moment in thought before he looks around. This place is unsettling; he seems to be searching for something in particular as he speaks further. )
I'm Ko Tenjin. I ... Come from somewhere vastly different.
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Nacho. Nacho Varga. [He crosses his arms over his nearly-bare chest. The mesh shirt is too small for him, hugging his considerable biceps tightly.] Same here. Don't know what you mean by all that half-dead shit, though. Handead. Whatever you said.
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( A wry sort of grin. )
I'm not sure it's pertinent ... It's better to have even a little in the way of numbers. I'd like to stay away from the dancing but see what else is around. Would you want to come with me?
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...Yeah, sure. Might as well stick together if we both don't know where the fuck we are.
dancing
[It's Dinah who steps in when others ignore. She'd tried to ignore too, tried to keep her head down but man he looked like he really didn't want to be there. She puts herself between Nacho and the woman, doing her best to look intimidating whilst dressed in a harness body suit that left both of her breasts exposed in their entirety. She feels decidedly silly but her steady glower and her clenched fists seem to stop the woman from asking Nacho to dance any more and she goes away. Dinah turns reluctantly to Nscho.]
Hey, you okay, man?
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[Every second in this town is a struggle to keep his eyes respectfully on people's faces. He feels like he owes it to this woman in particular not to ogle her exposed breasts; she stepped in for him, after all. And sure, he could've gotten away himself, but he's in a haze here today. It's hard to think of how to be around people when he was ready to exit the world completely not long ago.]
Thanks. Not really in a dancing mood right about now.
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[Partying? Definitely. She and her friends - were they her friends? - had just blown up her boss, killed a psychotic killer and saved a kid from being murdered. She'd planned to spend all week getting slammed, partying and sleeping off the damn hangover, not running through the wood still splattered beneath the dirt, with some thug's blood.
Sensing his discomfort, she throws an arm over her breasts to cover them as best she can.]
But hell. I mean, fucking literally.
[She snorts at her own stupid joke.]
There's a food truck over there? I mean, food helps, right? And every day won't be as bad as this one right here.
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I dunno. My day was going pretty bad before I showed up here. [He turns to head toward the food truck, glancing back to see if she's following him.] Guess it can't get too much worse.
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[Of course she's following him. Who is she to pass up free food? In the twilight, maybe the bruises on her body aren't as noticeable.]
I can't work out if I was having the best damn day of my life or the most fucking trying one. I mean, it was turning out pretty cool. Like, if it all goes right, I guess? But here? If the worst they're gonna do is stick your wazzo in some hot wax, I reckon you can handle it.
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Still, he chuckles anyway. Being around Lalo was always an exercise in smiling when he didn't feel like it, so he's gotten pretty good at it by now.]
Yeah. Right. [He stops a few feet from the truck to scrutinize the menu. It isn't anything that screams "home" to him, but he wasn't expecting that, anyway.] Hey, uh, can I ask you kind of a weird question?
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[Dinah looks away from the menu and at Nacho curiously.]
Hit me.
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[He balances his hands on his hips, chuckling again. He's about to sound so out of his mind. Might as well just say it.]
Did you die before you got here? Or, like, did it seem like you were about to?
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room and board.
Ah, well. With so many people displaced around here, tears are to be expected. It's about all Gen can expect, really; everything about this place is so foreign, right down to the dirt.
He'd claimed this room before, but evidently this guy needs a place to cry. Gen is momentarily torn; surely if he were rendered to a similar state he'd want to be alone, or maybe comforted. Hard to say. The fact also remains that Gen needs a place for himself.
He takes a step inside, borrowed boots heavy on the floor. Other than that, he's clad in black shorts, too tight and a bit too thin. )
Excuse me. I realize this might be a bit of an imposition, but is there anything I can help with?
( His voice is low and pleasant and even soothing ... Perhaps to an odd and abrupt degree. )
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Shit-- Uh-- Nah, man, it's cool. It's-- Just pretend you didn't-- didn't see that.
[His voice is still dense with sadness, but he's too full of early 2000's toxic masculinity to admit that he's in more emotional pain than Jesus Christ right now.]
This your bed? I'll leave.
Awakening
[It had been hard enough to drag himself painfully through the woods using his arms and now here Ivar was getting run over by another person. At least he couldn't blame them for not seeing him, he was pretty low on the ground as he dragged himself along. That still didn't stop it from jostling all his already-aching bones when the man ran into him.
Ivar looked up at Nacho, noting the look in the man's eyes like a frightened deer ready to bolt. Clearly this was an idiot of some sort. Well, idiots could be useful in their own way, so maybe Ivar could find some reason to keep the man from running off. As for the teenager himself, he had piercing ice blue eyes, a color most people only achieved in the modern era with contacts. It was clear why he wasn't walking: his legs were withered things with no musculature or ligaments to be seen on them, making it obvious he'd never taken an unaided step on them in his life.]
Well? An apology would be nice!
[He said in a demanding tone.]
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...You serious, man? [The words come out of his mouth before he takes full stock of the situation. He notices the pathetic state of the man's legs a second later, and has the good grace to look a little bit guilty after that.] What the hell happened to you?
[Okay, so he scores no points for disability sensitivity.]
cw: ableist language
[Ivar said in a gruff tone that just dared Nacho to make fun of him. That was the typical response when he met new Norsemen back home. Laughter and contempt wasn't uncommon upon learning the famed Ragnar Lothbrok had a son who couldn't walk. At least if he'd lost use of them in battle, he'd have honor and respect. But being born disabled meant he was just an object of pity at best and scorn at the worst among his people.]
What happened to you, were you raised by wolves who taught you no manners?
[Was it wise to be this sarcastic with someone when all he had for a weapon was a crude stone knife he'd made? Probably not. Was that going to stop Ivar from having a tart tongue? Absolutely not.]
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I-- Shit, man, my bad. You're right, that was a fucked up thing to ask. [He's not so toxic that he can't admit when he was a douche.] I'm just-- Fuck. I feel like I'm fucking dreaming. This can't be real.
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He took a deep breath and pushed the anger off into a corner of his mind. He rarely if ever received an apology from people when they insulted him, so that helped to calm him down a little.]
Apology accepted.
[He still sounded a touch angry but who wouldn't be after being insulted like that? As for the disorienting feeling of waking up in this place, he agreed.]
It's very strange. I can't figure out what happened. We could still be somewhere on Miðgarðr. But perhaps we have been taken to Jötunheimr or even Vanaheimr.
[His light Norwegian accent became a little thicker on the Old Norse terms for some of the Nine Realms.]
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[Nacho's not even going to attempt to wrap his lips around those sounds. He turns partway away, setting his hands on his hips with a frustrated exhale. He doesn't exactly like being exposed to some stranger like this, but he's not going to cup his cock the entire time they talk, so he might as well just pretend like he isn't even naked.]
I dunno what or where the hell any of those things are. I'm from fucking Albuquerque, man. This? This is not ABQ, that's all I fucking know.
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[Most of them he'd met knew about as much about the Norse religion as he did about Catholicism, which was to say a few basic details and not much else.]
no subject
[He doesn't know enough about Norse mythology to realize that's what this guy is talking about. Right now, he just sounds crazy. Nacho prefers reading up on Mayan and Aztec history, the kind closer to his own backyard, not gringo shit from another continent.]
No-- I mean, my mom was Catholic, but I never really fucked with religion. What, Nine Realms, that some sort of-- of afterlife?
[Because that might actually make sense.]
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tw: suicide talk
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