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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?
lazarused: (11)

[personal profile] lazarused 2024-02-10 11:58 am (UTC)(link)
Did you?

Say no?
lazarused: (12)

[personal profile] lazarused 2024-02-10 12:32 pm (UTC)(link)
[Jason approaches the golf car, trying hard not to cover himself as he gets closer. It feels like it would be-

-well, not a bad idea, but something similar. Anyway.

He gets into the cart and rubs his nose, and dips his head.]


Do people usually turn into monsters, or is that a metaphor for something.
ebrius: (sfsfwew)

[personal profile] ebrius 2024-02-10 01:14 pm (UTC)(link)
"You're not the first person to tell me that."

And she's always been deadset on proving said people wrong. She doesn't think she needs friends. Better yet, she thinks it's smarter for no one to be her friend because of her general...Jessica-ness. She tends to bring everyone down around her.

Better to just stay detached.

"Void touched sounds like some shitty horror movie," she adds, exhaling raggedly. "They seem used to it, though. The people just showing up naked and walking around. You were the first person to stop."
minuteofangle: (044)

[personal profile] minuteofangle 2024-02-10 01:52 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Gabe hums at that, his face a calm mask. Internally, he calculates. This should like a whole lot of cult bullshit, a facet of his life he thought he was done with. Run up against the Sons of Plunder, or the Kindred with their smiling boys and girls with starched collars too many times, and a man starts to lose his taste for that kind of nonsense. But this is new. The emphasis - sincere, far as Gabe can tell - on fucking and bloodletting and, of course, the Duchess.

Whole lot of details. A man could get overwhelmed if he's not paying attention.

Daryl's not a fan of the Duchess, for one thing. There's a certain edge to that bitterness that Gabe marks, and tucks away to think about later. He flicks his hand out, away from the crowd and the latest game with knives and pageantry. ]


Not really my speed, [ he lies, right through his teeth. He'd cut out a heart if it got him something other than noticed by all the simpering locals. ] How long you been here, Daryl?

[ Sounds like a while, from his tone. ]
princess_of_ida: (11)

[personal profile] princess_of_ida 2024-02-10 02:42 pm (UTC)(link)
"Ah - a virgin." Ianthe draped her bone arm across Peony's shoulders without bothering to ask, pulling her a bit closer.
"Nothing to be ashamed about. Some of the men here are real pigs, and might come sniffing around if they find out, wanting to try to claim you."

She was tempted to warn Peony off from Cesare, but she gave off the vibes (much like her sister) that the moment anything was said about staying away from someone, it was like it became her solmen duty to defy that warning. So, Ianthe stuck to a general warning.

"So what does the fairy queen ask you to do for her?"
heresthebeef: (nor'easter)

[personal profile] heresthebeef 2024-02-10 02:51 pm (UTC)(link)
[ A snort and a smile. Yeah, okay, he’s gotta admire the chutzpah. Thanks to the circumstances back home he doesn’t like to think much about aging, but when he does he tells himself he’s going to kick ass longer than any minotaur ever has, and in that he has to admire Terry. ]

That a fact?

[ Not even asking permission he’ll reach a hand out to try and tilt Terry’s chin up. Get a better look at his face. ]
hislittleflower: (027 (Unsure) No really wtf)

[personal profile] hislittleflower 2024-02-10 03:01 pm (UTC)(link)
Peony's lip curled in disgust. "A swift knee to the balls or knife to the tip of their piece oft sets their manners back into check and cools the passions. Wouldn't be the first brute I'd had to remind that I am not livestock for claiming." Though she be little, she is mighty and utterly unafraid of a fight.

She didn't mind the arm around her shoulders and even brightened remarkably at the question about her patron. Ah, her favourite topic of obsession. "I act in her interest. Routing cultists, defending feylings like myself, bringing acclaim to her name and bringing light and joy to all I can." A bit of chaos was livening to the spirits after all.
multiverse: (pic#16977939)

[personal profile] multiverse 2024-02-10 03:13 pm (UTC)(link)
( yours is something parisa likes, perhaps not surprisingly, given what a materialistic person she is. well — really, she's more of an esoteric, vaguely manipulative seductress type of person, but there are quirks that come along with it. too huge perfume collections and seven different backup tweezers when one goes missing in the errant piles upon piles of dirty clothes that only stay chic in their mess because they don't smell, because parisa doesn't sweat, because parsa doesn't exert herself day to day. pairs shoes she wears once and never again because one goes missing in the aforementioned feminine blackhole. too tall, serious knights with soft, caramel centers, on their knees to chase after the rushing high of usefulness.

parisa likes her immediately, possibly because she gives parisa what she wants, but also because she has these sad eyes, deep as the ocean itself. her poor, pining knight.
)

You're my new muse, I think. ( peeling her hand back, parisa plucks the lazy straps of her dress off, one after the other, letting the watery fabric pool down at her feet, still pressed in a pair of heels she managed to procure. it's an orgy, after all — parisa isn't shy. ) I need you, badly. Your mouth. Can I have that?

( again, a question that doesn't need much of an answer. parisa cups her hand around gala's chin adoringly, like an old lover would, gracefully tucking one leg around her broad shoulder, her knee hooked over. she guides gala where she wants her, carefully sliding her hand into her hair — not pushing her in, but holding on, anticipating that with any luck she'll be weak in the knees soon enough, and need the stability. )
omertae: besides that i'm innocent (• i've done nothing wrong)

[personal profile] omertae 2024-02-10 03:27 pm (UTC)(link)
No

[ But does he want to? A little bit. ]

I can't believe this is what cat ownership has come to

Buying a cat just to put it online for clout

Makes me sick
muitenpen: (16747343)

[personal profile] muitenpen 2024-02-10 03:49 pm (UTC)(link)
[He doesn't get it. Not really. Not when it all seems the opposite of what he's learnt. Mainly,]

Aren't they both hobbies?

[The question's asked innocently enough as he keeps his focus on Angel instead. But there may be something else to it all, with the other's wording. Of course whatever pair's hiding away would spare the dramatics of faking it. When they're all so opposed to their true selves showing through, none of them have anything to gain from holding back.

For someone seemingly experienced to be blind to the most likely scenario...
]

Or maybe you don't enjoy it. You talk like some expert, but aren't you a little jaded? You're not gonna die if you mess up here, you know. [A pause. Should appearances have been off limits? Well, whatever.] At least, not for good.
bruxedo: (008)

[personal profile] bruxedo 2024-02-10 04:16 pm (UTC)(link)
People like to get freaky everywhere, but I get your point.

[ Her cheerfulness comes with an edge. Perpétua taps the corner of her lips like she's trying not to smudge. ]

Better have fun while I can. Did you hear about what happened last month?
bruxedo: (005)

[personal profile] bruxedo 2024-02-10 04:19 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Woo, not dying! They'll have to drink to that later. Mental note. ]

Abso-fucking-lutely. And I'm coming with you.
minuteofangle: (002)

[personal profile] minuteofangle 2024-02-10 04:34 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Ah, Gabe thinks, she’s sharp. And sharp people are always more dangerous than the idiots. But also potentially much more useful. He shrugs again, deliberately casual. ]

I did not. Care to enlighten me?
frightfulfrequency: (pic#16972470)

alastor 👁️ hazbin hotel 👁️ wilk

[personal profile] frightfulfrequency 2024-02-10 04:36 pm (UTC)(link)
👁️ about town.
Having a collar is nothing new to Alastor but the twist now is how he isn't constrained by the usual suspect. In fact, he doesn't feel the tug on his metaphorical leash as keenly as he might normally. Interesting. That's something he'll tuck away mentally for now as he investigates his new - still somewhat Hellish - surroundings.

"Why, thank you, my dear," says Alastor, heads turning to the strange sound of his voice. And it is strange to even those more familiar with modern technology since it sounds like he's broadcasting through a radio. Unbothered by attention, he smiles as he takes a bite of one of those heart-shaped cookies, waves, and is on his way.

If he tugs on the collar of his shirt in a few moments and seems a bit flushed, well- No, he doesn't.

Mind your business. Or don't!


👁️ breaking hearts.
The man hums as he walks through the streets and takes in the scenery. Although not quite as cultured as cannibal town, it has a certain charm to it. Some may feel free to notice how utterly, entirely unbothered he is by any of it. In fact, he's smiling - even if subtle - as he takes everything in.

Nothing of a sexual nature appeals to him; rather, the inherent eroticism of the slaughter is where he ends up gravitating towards. Alastor can be found grinning wider than he has yet as he carves out an animal's heart and gladly partakes in the face 'painting' with enthusiasm.

"Here I was starting to think this town to be a bit droll! Turns out the local flavor isn't all that bad." Emphasized with a run of his tongue over a smudge of blood on his own face. "Would you like a taste too?"
hasitsthorns: YOU AIN'T NOTHING BUT A HOUND DOG (From my favorite singer Yellvis)

❥ hanako 'rosalina' nurumi ❥ original ❥ niez

[personal profile] hasitsthorns 2024-02-10 04:38 pm (UTC)(link)
❥ arrival.
While being nude doesn't both Rosie any, she does take an offered scarf. The blond wraps it around her neck and lets the loose ends drape down to play at covering her chest. She also takes another scarf of thinner material and wraps it around her hips to drape down over her upper thighs. There! Now she's not completely exposed.

She's interested in the hearts festival, naturally, and delighted by the wrist-strap she's given. She'll have to test that out as soon as she's able to, but for now... "Aw, hell yeah, free food!" she says enthusiastically, practically skipping up to the offerings on display. Between the beef and the goat, she picks the latter.

Hm. Did it colder out here? Strange. She shrugs it off though easily enough to peruse now instead the fun tools and toys on display. Although she doesn't seem to be fond of the muzzles any, she'll hold up an anal plug with a tail and question: "Does this clash with my scarves, or-?" to anyone closeby.

The cages make her a little anxious, actually, but she's more than fine with showing someone a good time at the glory hole booth. Whether on the receiving end or you're just a spectator, she'll eagerly participate in this local tradition.


❥ monstrous malaise.
( █ cw for: body horror )
Sating her sexual hunger isn't difficult in the slightest. It's the emotional needs of her beast that Rosie seems to suffer with. She always has, admittedly, but it's never had consequences as literal as this.

Although never yet seen without a smile and happy-go-lucky attitude, she seems to be growing especially distant as of late. The woman stops showing up to work, stops being a regular friendly face in certain locations, and slinks away to be on her own whenever she gets the chance. If asked, she'll just say she has 'a lot on her mind' and that she'll 'be fine.'

(Spoilers: She won't!)

Being stood up for a date never really bothered her before. But today? Today, it's the final straw. That itch of irritation she's been carefully keeping under wraps erupts into a full-blown anger that she can't contain. She manages to escape the public eye at least before she loses her composure, but then...

Her skin melts into transluscent, red-tinted slime as does the rest of her. It's hot, painful, and she extends her arms to try and grab hold of something to 1) steady herself and 2) constrict it. All she feels right now is angry and it shows in the red-hot glow of her opaque, gooey body and way she seems hellbent on grabbing and squeezing the life out of anyone she can.
dead_tongue: (drinks?)

[personal profile] dead_tongue 2024-02-10 04:52 pm (UTC)(link)
[Does he offer her an arm? Of course!

The brothel isn't of a particularly complex layout. The employee area has very basic tin tubs that must be filled by hand from the central boiler - there are a few nicer tubs in some working rooms, reserved for working with clients - but before this room is an area for the workers to leave their belongings.

Iggy has taken over a not insubstantial portion of a wardrobe (periodically he is told 'seriously, take your shit home') and it is from here that he pulls both an obscenely short nurse costume, and the black bathing suit of the Playboy Bunny. He holds them up proudly.]


I had them made special. I can sew but pattern drafting was never my strong suit.
violentia: (085)

[personal profile] violentia 2024-02-10 05:03 pm (UTC)(link)
Which part was ominous?
violentia: (116)

[personal profile] violentia 2024-02-10 05:13 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Is it pathetic to be relieved that he wasn't immediately roasted? (Yes.) ]

Oh. No, I don't have time for social media. Arrived a bit too late to that party anyway.

[ Tfw you only discover the internet in your thirties. ]

How do you manage to blog on all those websites?

[ Apps, Norman. ]
violentia: (193)

[personal profile] violentia 2024-02-10 05:21 pm (UTC)(link)
I like it.

[ He could picture Mother giving it to one of his sisters.

It's a tainted feeling. ]


I've had some time to adjust. As much as I'm able. [ #namflashbacks to his eldritch rampage(s) in the woods. ] How did you handle it?
violentia: (159)

[personal profile] violentia 2024-02-10 05:25 pm (UTC)(link)
The person I'm looking for is a vampire.

Thought I'd give it a try.
nixed: (121)

[personal profile] nixed 2024-02-10 05:30 pm (UTC)(link)
Let's get a bit more specific, buddy. You're too good at building suspense.

[ And being super fucking shady, but that's just another day in the life. ]
nixed: (037)

[personal profile] nixed 2024-02-10 05:34 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The smile is neither cryptic or friendly when he lowers his gaze, picking at another piece of bread. More like he just heard a story that reminded him of someone he used to know. ]

I can do both. Depends on how much interest there is. No point drawing it out if no one's gonna take it, right.
dead_tongue: (smiiiile)

[personal profile] dead_tongue 2024-02-10 05:35 pm (UTC)(link)
[Iggy raises a hand to his mouth to cut off a laugh.]

Uh, okay? I cried a lot, then asked everyone via brain message whose dick I had to suck to get cigarettes.

[In those exact words, no less.]
louisianawolf: made for me; please don't take (Hayley; commission [2])

Hayley Marshall-Kenner — The Originals — WILK

[personal profile] louisianawolf 2024-02-10 05:38 pm (UTC)(link)
woods
(cw: nudity)
Waking up naked in the woods is actually ... pretty normal for Hayley. She's a werewolf (technically a werewolf-vampire hybrid, but she was born a werewolf; the other part came later, which also means that as undead, she's got the physical appearance of a 20 year old [when she became a vampire] but by calendar year she's 35), so she's done this a few hundred times by now, and isn't bothered in the slightest by it. What she is bothered by is that she doesn't know these woods. And also, she has a strange mark on her arm that definitely wasn't there before.

As she starts making her way through them, trying to rely on her heightened senses, she eventually comes across another person who looks like they may have had the same experience as she's just had.

“Hey,” Her tone is one that hopefully conveys a non-threatening one. “Any chance you know where the hell we are?” It's worth a shot.


network
I have a specific question that some might not want to answer and that's okay! Answer what you feel comfortable with; I'm not the boss of anyone and I don't want to be, so... you do you, etc.

Is anyone else here someone who was born a were-something, or made a vampire a million years ago and then got dragged here... anything like that? I'm both, I've been both for years (born wolf, made vampire at age 20), so I don't know if that has anything to do with why I'm here or not. Consider this data collection that may or may not mean much.


wildcard
If you want a different thing, just hit me up via PM!
cacotopia: s n (020)

[personal profile] cacotopia 2024-02-10 05:48 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Petre wasn't known to resist much of anything when he could get away with the consequences. This place has been a collar around his throat, irony intended, despite the depravities allowed and encouraged between Rubeans and void-touched alike. There's a huge difference between doing whatever the fuck he wants when he's stuck in a place with a limited number of people who've got each other's backs and a system strong enough to hold him down, though. Alas, all he can do is test how tight that metaphorical collar is every now and then.

Touching her makes him forget that, just barely, which is more than enough. Petre moves in to press his body against her hands as soon as he gets started on that favor, mouth on the side of her neck to take in her scent. How creepy of him! Oh well. ]