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rubilykskoye mods ([personal profile] rubimods) wrote in [community profile] rubimemes2024-02-07 11:31 pm
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TEST DRIVE MEME 005

⚰︎ ⍢ ⌲ ⍚ TEST DRIVE MEME:
Welcome to RUBILYKSKOYE — a dark, horror-smut game where player choices will drive a mod-run storyline about the world and its NPCs. This test drive meme provides a medley of prompts evoking the game's general tone.

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. Note: the universal test drive arrival prompt will not be repeated on the any event log, but players are welcome to reuse the prompt.

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: spiders, aphrodisiac and truth serum effects, public nudity, exhibitionism/voyeurism, bdsm, kink negotiation, social pressure, and animal sacrifice.

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.

FAQSETTINGCALENDARRESERVESAPPLICATIONS

IN THE WOODS SOMEWHERE

The chirping of partridges in the treetops rouses you. Light barely filters through the canopy, just enough to suggest daylight. By the time it reaches the forest floor, the light has taken on a sickly green. You lie amongst the frost-covered mosses and ferns, the frozen 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. 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.

You seem to be alone. The gnarled oaks and moss suggest no sign of civilization or sentient life. Just flickers of movement from curious squirrels or brave lizards reemerging after a long winter. With your feet under you, and you'll find the wood is filled with berry bushes and nut trees, though much of the fruit has been picked clean. The freshwater stream that runs north-south, populated by both poisonous toads and delicious crawdads, will lead people towards the first signs of civilisation, the cabins of those who choose to live beyond Rubilyskoye's formidable walls.

In the forest, you may run into others with stories just like yours. Some may have already formed clumsy nudist groups, others may still be processing their confusion, with no memory of how they got here. Now is a good time to overcome any hang-ups you have about modesty; it's going to be a long hike.

Turn your back to the darker, shadowy parts of the forest and eventually the glow of manmade lights and the curve of a dirt road may come into view. At the edge of the wood, you'll find a town surrounded by a fifty-foot wall of beige stone. The only entrance is an iron gate positioned on the southern edge. When you arrive, the gate is already open, welcoming people inside.

This quaint, historic town of five-thousand has cobbled street and signs 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 grocer — 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.

When you enter, the streets are full of people, but despite any efforts on your part to hide or make excuses, they don't seem offended by your nakedness. Even families with children don't gawk or look twice. Those determined to find proper clothing regardless will find that modern clothing stores aren't available — the closest this town has is a tailor's shop and a stand in the central marketplace selling scarves and blankets.

breaking and entering
If you intend to have your character break into someone's house or yard to steal some of their clean laundry, please review the info about game laws on the FAQ and give the mods a heads up HERE.



Fortunately, the people of the town are very generous! Anyone who ask the locals will be directed to the boarding house for both clothes and a place to stay. Accessible through an embellished iron garden gate and obscured by hanging plants, trees, and vines, beyond an overgrown yard in the residential sprawl of the town is a bright-red door, which opens to a spacious cottage of several stories. It's already full of people who appeared in the village just as you did today.

finding roommates
Don't spend too much time asking questions in the common areas. 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. Maybe you'll get lucky and run into someone who has decided to move out? (Roommates will not be mod-assigned; players should coordinate directly with one another to determine their living arrangements; at this point, many characters have used activity rewards to move to accomodation outside the boarding house.)


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 a breakfast of thick grain porridge and caramelised bananas from the new peaks; these NPCs can also answer any questions about the situation. You may notice they're dressed in a way you would almost call normal — at least, in a manner befitting 19th century Eastern Europe. Gossip about new arrivals spreads quickly, and Rubeans who run businesses or train trades are eager to help you find a place to apply your skills so you can contribute to your new home.


writer's block?
If you're struggling to pick a way to engage the prompts, try: naked hiking, acquiring clothing, being offered work, asking questions over breakfast, or staking your claim on a bedroom!



HEARTS FESTIVAL

New arrivals to Rubilykskoye will find themselves strongly encouraged to participate in the current zadza purging festival, and will be assigned either a collar in leather or iron based on their Niez or Wilk mark, or a wrist-strap or manacle that suits the attachment of a leash for those with a Diabel or Skala mark.

Characters are encouraged to embrace this temporary designation as a sign that they will be good citizens; those who object or ignore their designation may find the NPCs try to helpfully guide them, express displeasure at "Void-Touched" who won't assimilate, or in rare cases exert social pressure, coercion, violence or shunning to ensure compliance.

Throughout town various NPCs have set up tents and booths to host myriad performances, workshops, demonstrations, and food stands for their celebration. The foods were made using some of the new flora that have brought back from the peaks. Characters can get their hands on the following heart-themed foods from the second day of the festival onwards:

  • HEART-SHAPED COOKIES: eating these intensifies body heat, making characters a great cuddle buddy for the cold weather and likely to strip down, feeling overheated even in a snowdrift

  • BEEF HEART STEW WITH DUXELLES: eating these fills those who consume it with confidence, making them more solicitous and dominant

  • LIME-GLAZED GOAT HEART SATAY: eating these intensifies sensation, making characters more sensitive to both pain and pleasure

  • CINNAMON GLUWEIN: drinking a cup of this hot beverage will make characters especially honest

The nature of the booths set up for performances, workshops, and other goods focuses around the festival's dominance and submission themes. These persist throughout the day regardless of the hour or the audience, so very few people can be found consistently at their places of work during the day this week. In addition:
  • Skala and diabel NPCs may offer to share their partner(s) with the Void-touched, or ask to share theirs.

  • PIOTR, a farmer, brings tools over from the farm including bridles and saddles, which can be found at a booth near some hunters who've made anal plugs that end with real animal tails, as well as muzzles.

  • The cages from the Moot Hall have been moved into the streets, and people are allowed to move freely in and out of them. One of them has been covered in curtains to function as a glory hole booth.

  • Some niez and wilk NPCs line up near the main event stage and kneel to offer themselves as human furniture.

However, characters may also come across some carnival games operated by NPCs who are eager to help the Duchess find her heart! Some involve slaughtering livestock by removing their hearts—rest assured, these livestock were already on the menu, but their ritual sacrifice will now involve the cutting out of their hearts. Cut out an animal's heart yourself, or just attend the show! Many of the townspeople will get into it, painting their faces with animal blood or drinking from it.

writer's block?
If you're struggling to pick a way to engage the prompts, try reacting to being assigned a dominant or submissive role, scenes where your character is starting to feel the effects of the food, watching (or participating in) a performance, or joining in on a gory animal sacrifice. NPCs that are usually welcoming may strongly pressure even new arrivals to participate in their cultural festivities.


the fathomless dark

At the outer edges of the forest, shadows grow long and the air grows thick. Though the sun never grows warm red-gold with sunset, the wood darkens. Birdsong is replaced by the click of mandibles and the skitter of many legs. Anyone who ventures out this way will soon find it difficult to see before them, even in the middle of the day — eventually, even the brightest magical light source or darkvision cannot stretch further than a few inches.

In the void, the air feels heavy, 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. Characters who push too far into the void may stop being able to move at all, and find themselves given over to insanity if they collapse, unable to draw themselves out. This is just one of many dangers.

Monsters thrive this far out. 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 attempt to use their webbing to entangle 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.


Those who seem lucky enough not to run afoul of the monsters here are in for a worse fate. The void can play tricks on your senses. As madness sets in and you lose all sense of direction, you may also lose control of your body — what is that steers your hands to turn against your friends? Why does it sound like your own voice whispering?

In the fog, you may also hear the voices of those familiar to you — people you know from the town, or people whom you know with almost perfect certainty aren't here. these figments may recreate unhappy memories or force trespassers to hallucinate their worst nightmares. Nothing is as it seems in the void, and when you swing at these figments, desperate to silence them, it might not be a figment at all, but a friend in the flesh trying to help you. By the time you see their true face, it could be too late to stop yourself.

writer's block?
If you're struggling to pick a way to engage the prompts, try fighting a monster, hallucinating your worst nightmares, and/or attacking a friend or stranger!


HIDING INSIDE EACH OF US

Uh oh spaghetti-os.

The marks worn by all residents of Rubilykskoye aren't just cool body art, as it turns out. The town is full of rumors, whispered in shadows and over candles of a starving creature hiding in the dark corners of your chest. Feed your inner beast, they say, before it finds a way to feed itself.


Alas, its emergence is inevitable — sooner or later, the horrible things that happen here pile up and make someone repulsed by the idea of human contact. Someone holds themselves back, bites their tongue, or simply does not believe the stories. Today, for one reason or another, that creature is coming out. Someone hasn't been keeping it sated.

Symptoms escalate over weeks, from monstrous irritability to full-blown body horror transformation, where people physically shed their human forms and evolve into the monsters this place made them. Once a person becomes something more (or less) than human there's only one way to go back — sate the beast.

someone else transforms
Poor Merta Chesnokov, the usually stalwart older woman who mans the Apothecary, has been beset by unusual requests in addition to her regular demands, not to mention sweating blood. The festival, a rash of skala blood flu, and a little extra town chaos in January, has brought a high demand to her little shop. Now there's also a local fashion springing up for teas and herbal remedies sourced from the recently revealed tropical mountains.

After another failed tisane test drive, and the third customer asking for a new kind of aphrodisiac to add to their festival food, she was seen tossing down her work knife with uncharacteristic frustration, and taking an "early lunch" that she didn't return from that night. Though her children, friends and employees reach out to her, there's no sign of her until you stumble upon her in the woods.

Merta overboils with her suppressed fury as her body distorts and her flesh blackens and crusts. Her attempts to hold off her transformation have failed, and Merta turns into a Smoldering Skink, a large repillian creature whose thick scales hold back her magmatic insides. The noise she makes is an unhearthly hissing scream like a boiling kettle, and she attempts to vent her pent-up stress by wildly attacking everything in sight. Immediately, the surroundings catch aflame! There will be a small fire eating at the dead wood of a long winter if it's not put out, but your first priority might have to be fielding a stampeding lizard with massive teeth and burning hot scales...

(There are other monsters lurking in every townsperson — feel free to invent your own npc monsters and scenarios!)


you waited too long
At first, as you hide yourself from your darker impulses, a subtle itch develops under your skin. An irritability that makes you snap at the person who bumps into you on the stairs because all those fleeting emotions that you've been repressing bubble to the surface. Every dark thought you've had about being here, all the fears of never getting home, of being surrounded by ticking time bombs, the anxiety of wondering who you might hurt or what relationships you might betray by doing what you have to do. The anger. Oh, the anger.

Maybe you shut yourself in your room or run into the woods to hide away, but there's only so much you can do to deny the itch that grows into hunger like a spark catching and growing to wildfire. Someone comes to check on you. That knock on the door or crunch of leaves in the wood that fills you with dread at what you might do and hope that you will be sated.

As claws and fangs and scales and spines and fur grow and your body transforms with a sickening crunch of bones and peeling of skin, so do your appetites. If you won't sate them, you'll lose yourself to your beastly impulses sooner or later, mauling friends and taking your fill. Is it better or worse if only your claws get inside of them?
littlemissfutility: (Fd6K1rE)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2024-05-16 08:14 pm (UTC)(link)
Beth stands there, gripping the fabric closed like she's expecting someone to try to yank it off of her, and tries to find a different way to read between the lines. They believe it's bad to keep in your urges.

"Just say it," she says, her fingers tightening on her stupid, useless stick. Some dark pit has opened up where her stomach ought to be.
poleaxed: shock; static (tell me something)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2024-05-16 08:18 pm (UTC)(link)
"Fighting or fucking. They got whole festivals around it. And if you hold off too long, you really do turn into a monster. I mean, it happened to me." Though she's not quite sure that's the case-- it's what Quentin said, and she trusts his understanding of this place to be stronger than hers. "It's painful, and you don't keep your head. Fight somebody if you don't wanna fuck, but it's... I'm not gonna pretend it's easy, or it's good. It's just how it is."
desiderata: (eikons040)

[personal profile] desiderata 2024-05-16 08:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Nick lets all of that wash over him, content to listen, a familiarity to the cadence of her speech that doesn't necessitate his input. He's not without his own thoughts on the matter but doesn't see the value in speaking them aloud at this point.

He offers a soft laugh. "My sister took all of that trait." Nature or nurture? Both; either. Then he wonders if it's an outdated descriptor — he wouldn't know, though he can hardly imagine her, what, docile? "It's been a few years for me."

Clearing his throat, he says, "So are you saying we're—" He gestures, searching for the right word. "Elsewhere?"
littlemissfutility: (kVkpRGs)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2024-05-16 08:24 pm (UTC)(link)
She's frozen where she stands, tensed to run and incapable of it, taking in the idea. A bunch of strangers, all of them expecting something from her. The weight of their eyes, the weight of their hands, pretending it's holy -

(Her father'd know a verse for why all of this is screwed up, but he's not here. And even if he was, he'd be scared and horrified, she thinks. Just like her.)

"What if I don't go?" she asks, trying desperately to keep her voice steady. It wouldn't be hard to drag her in, even if she put up a fight; she's betting this is a woman who errs on the side of fighting, where she can. "What if I stay here?"
poleaxed: anger ; sad (we must be brothers.)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2024-05-16 08:29 pm (UTC)(link)
Ah, shit. She's said it wrong, and now the girl's scared. She should have let someone else handle this, someone with a modicum of gentleness in their bones. Maybe next time, she'll get Quentin to do this with her. He'd know what to say.

"Plenty of people live in the woods. I can find 'em, if you want," she says. "Nobody'll stop you. But I mean it, about the monster thing. If you don't do it, you'll change, and the monster will want to. It'll make you stupid. Might make you hurt people."
Edited 2024-05-16 20:30 (UTC)
littlemissfutility: (ggVedzy)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2024-05-16 08:44 pm (UTC)(link)
She's lived like this before, eking out a life of mud snake and sleeping so light it barely counted. It sucked. But she could do it again - but not without anything to wear. Not without a knife. And that means either begging a stranger to bring her supplies from town first, if she's not going to go there herself.

It means owing a stranger more than she already does right now.

The quiet stretches too far, her toes curling against the hard ground. She tells herself the woman's never once tried to come near her. Things are okay right now, even if they aren't okay. "If I fight people...how much of a fight?"
poleaxed: shock; anger (you let men into your bed)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2024-05-16 08:51 pm (UTC)(link)
"Your best," Joan says. "I haven't killed anybody. Don't intend to. Some other people, though..." She shakes her head. "If you can't get your hands on a knife, I'll get you one."
littlemissfutility: (HGXPnWh)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2024-05-16 08:53 pm (UTC)(link)
"What about a gun?" What about both, more like - but she probably shouldn't start there.
poleaxed: static ; angry ; shock (that we're no dick and jane)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2024-05-16 08:56 pm (UTC)(link)
"They've got, like, muskets," Joan says. "People only really use them for hunting. I haven't run into one."
littlemissfutility: (lstNR0m)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2024-05-16 09:18 pm (UTC)(link)
So, no gun. A knife will get her pretty far, though, especially if no one else really has a gun. Get a knife, get clothes, get something to eat - and run off into the woods if need be. She'll find a pair of boots, and she'll leave. Or she'll stay, and she'll learn how to punch. The thought isn't exactly cheering, but at least it's not killing people this time.

Either way, no one's touching her. That's never happening again.

"Okay." Her expression is grim but determined, even if she doesn't feel as certain as she's trying to sound. She makes herself breathe. "Okay. I'll go."
desiderata: (eikons061)

[personal profile] desiderata 2024-05-16 09:19 pm (UTC)(link)
He's seen seeming less do a lot worse than an aggressive chicken. Also, you ever seen a cockfighting spur? Nick possibly has, he's Been places.

Still, the relief in his expression as he accepts the cigarette into his calloused palm has nothing to do with perceived threat levels. He flicks a grateful look to Iggy before striking the match with his thumbnail and immediately lighting up. At the end of his exhale he says, "I would've," huffing out a bit more smoke on his wry laugh. The most sincere joke he's ever told, though it's funny because he's not sure it's a fair trade. But like an addict, he's already worrying where the next one will come from.

"Nick. You?"
poleaxed: static; joke; smile; hand (of insane)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2024-05-16 09:20 pm (UTC)(link)
"Actually-" She's being selfish. Joan unhooks the holstered knife from her belt, hands it over to the girl. "I can get another."

It won't be necessary, but it might make the girl feel better.

"I'm Joan."
littlemissfutility: (Default)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2024-05-16 09:27 pm (UTC)(link)
This, now than anything else, is a reassurance that Joan's telling the truth. Even with another weapon in your hand, you wouldn't give someone a knife if you wanted to hurt someone. It'd be stupid - begging to have all your plans go wrong.

"Thanks." For more than just the blade. Her hands close around the knife handle, and they're allies now. "I'm Beth."
poleaxed: shock; anger (it ain't me)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2024-05-16 09:31 pm (UTC)(link)
Joan nods. Beth, who is probably from Earth, probably from the last thirty or so years. She hasn't met anybody from earlier than the 80s.

"If you still wanna live out here when we get you some clothes, I'll take you to Khoriya-- he's weird as shit, but he won't let you die. He's- look, some of the people here aren't from Earth. Khoriya isn't human, but he's good."
littlemissfutility: (ggVedzy)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2024-05-16 09:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Isn't human raises its own concerns, something guarded coming over her face. She's been operating under the assumption that they're in a similar place as home, people surrounded by walkers, but no one'd ever make the mistake of calling a walker good. "What is he?"
poleaxed: static; gent; angry (once you're gone you can't come back)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2024-05-16 09:47 pm (UTC)(link)
"He kinda looks like a werewolf?" She shrugs. What had he called himself? "He says he's a warg. He's like a nine-foot-tall wolf on two legs. And he's a bitchy motherfucker, but don't tell him I said that part."
littlemissfutility: (F6K08vo)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2024-05-16 10:00 pm (UTC)(link)
"A warg." Also unfamiliar - but werewolf, okay. She gets that. Joan's addendum draws a quick little smile out of her, surprised. "Is anyone else...not human?"
somatosensory: (ari_033)

[personal profile] somatosensory 2024-05-16 10:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Pleasure.

( it's been awhile since he's spoken to anyone genuinely new. and after the whole thing with the heart, aristaeus had wondered if they'd be seeing any fresh faces for a while. seems like the duchess really is on the mend. )

The boarding house. ( he knows it. it's the logical next step for anyone once they've made it into the town. ) It's not far; I'll show you.

( it's been awhile since he stayed there, but with any luck someone will have something for her. failing that, the most direct route should take them past the clinic, where junpei probably has something stashed. )

poleaxed: tired; hand; sad; emb (at water)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2024-05-16 10:36 pm (UTC)(link)
"Uh, yeah." Joan thinks of Peony. "But it's kinda personal for them. Everybody else looks human."
littlemissfutility: (Default)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2024-05-16 10:47 pm (UTC)(link)
"Oh." What that means, she doesn't know - but she knows better than to ask. Maybe some other time, when the question fits nearly into some other conversation.

So instead, she asks the other obvious question, the one your always need to know. "What about walkers?"
poleaxed: confus ; angry (at least the dark)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2024-05-16 10:49 pm (UTC)(link)
"What, like for old people?" Joan isn't really sure where that came from, but sure. "You got a tricky hip?"
littlemissfutility: (ggVedzy)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2024-05-16 10:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Beth rolls her eyes. That's the worst joke; it's kind of amazing she's never heard it before. "Whatever you call them. The dead."
poleaxed: static ; joke (when i'm gone.)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2024-05-16 11:08 pm (UTC)(link)
"Oh, you ask all the fun questions." Joan had really hoped someone else could explain this part. "They come back here."
littlemissfutility: (mmyJ5Gp)

[personal profile] littlemissfutility 2024-05-16 11:13 pm (UTC)(link)
"How many?" It seems so peaceful here. "I haven't seen any yet."
poleaxed: tired; hand; sad; emb (at water)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2024-05-16 11:14 pm (UTC)(link)
"Everybody who dies," she says, surprised by this apparent calm. Maybe she isn't from Earth? "Which happens a lot around here."