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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?
drysdale: (greatnews093)

hearts; but what if after he sees percy with marta

[personal profile] drysdale 2024-02-18 07:24 am (UTC)(link)
"Tried the wine yet?"

It's later in the day, and Ransom comes up on Percy from behind and to the side. Intruding on his space, but casually, reaching around him for a mug. The festival has emptied somewhat at this hour, most of those who came (lol) earlier probably sleeping it off now, but that doesn't mean there's not still a crowd. Some people just get started later in the day.

Ransom was one of those people today, despite keeping some pretty early hours lately. He did arrive in time to see Marta leading Percy around by a leash though, so there's that.
Edited 2024-02-18 07:26 (UTC)
drysdale: (greatnews015)

[personal profile] drysdale 2024-02-18 07:41 am (UTC)(link)
"That's not very nice, Eddie," Ransom nearly sing-songs in reply. He sinks down a little farther against the pillow behind his back, crossing one leg over the other and propping his book against his thigh. "Won't be finding anything useful with that attitude."
drysdale: (greatnews089)

[personal profile] drysdale 2024-02-18 08:00 am (UTC)(link)
[ Okay, he laughs at that, an aborted thing that probably toes the line into derisive, generally speaking. ]

Well, he had better hair than me. I couldn't let him live, sullying my legacy.
hislittleflower: (106 (Fight) Were you dropped on your hea)

[personal profile] hislittleflower 2024-02-18 08:53 am (UTC)(link)
[She snorts an incredulous laugh, covering it with her hand as the utter stupidity of the situation hits her full force. She's trapped in another place she doesn't want to be in with minimal options of how to get home. Yeah. They pretty much were fucked.]

A patron is a being with power that you make a deal with called a pact. My patron is called Lady Titania of the Summer Court - a powerful archfey. I sold her my virginity for magic and-- [And that's the point where Peony is going to clamp her hand straight over her mouth because that is a very big secret that only two people in her entire life know and now she's just told it to a stranger who's name she doesn't even know.

She SLOWLY lowers her hand;]
You didn't fucking hear that, okay?
hislittleflower: (094 (Angry) Look away)

[personal profile] hislittleflower 2024-02-18 09:04 am (UTC)(link)
"Family. They held me up during the darkest days when my adoptive family disowned me." She owed them so much. "Archie is like a second father to me. Red Kite, a strange uncle. Thaddeus, a younger brother. They are all very protective." Signs of civilisation was exciting though and Peony stood up on the tiptoes hoping to locate some sign of guardsmen.
hislittleflower: (064 (Love) I wish I could kiss you)

[personal profile] hislittleflower 2024-02-18 10:11 am (UTC)(link)
As usual, it seemed that she had managed to talk her way through the science nonsense without revealing herself to be an entire fraud. Thank goodness for that fey-gifted charisma of hers.

She hadn't expected Ianthe to simply doff her clothing as they weren't in a hub filled with other people. The boldness of it was shocking to Peony even against the background of casual depravity around them. But the warmth in her stomach reassured her that this was okay, encouraged even, no it was downright perfect. Ianthe was used to this and was acting as a model submissive; making it easier for her to carve out her authority. A positive behaviour that deserves a positive reward.

The thought didn't even cross the nymph's mind as to how unlike herself that train of thinking was.

The difference between their heights was a challenge. It wouldn't be becoming to sit up on the table to kiss Ianthe; no, she couldn't do all the work here. Peony's idle fingers on the chain wrapped the length around her palm and fingers, closing it and reeling the taller woman in and down to her level. A hand went to her hip as Peony turned them as if leading in a dance so that Ianthe's rear was pressed hard against the table and she could slip a leg between her thighs, hips flush against hers. It did mean that Ianthe had the choice of bending her knees to suit the pull on her collar or rest more heavily into Peony.

Yes, she had to remain untouched. But she was far from innocent. "You didn't say please, Ianthe." Peony whispered, lips a bare breath from hers. "You must say please when making requests. Try again."
medals: (2495327 (30))

[personal profile] medals 2024-02-18 10:18 am (UTC)(link)
[She tries very hard not to react in a way that is not normal to being told a name. She doesn't trip over her own feet, she doesn't freeze, she doesn't do anything except turn with her huge eyes and give a very smile and say: ] That's a beautiful name.

[It was. It still is. When Petre had looked at her like a stranger, it had hurt in a way Jem wasn't used to. It hurts a little less this, even if her chest still feels so tight it might as well cave in on her. She can cry later, perhaps, with wine. The way she used to cry with Gwen, three bottles in and something truly horrendous masquerading as cinema on their television.

For now, she says: ]
Right - socks. I think we're probably the same size - so we can definitely do everything else plus socks.

[It's almost funny, really, to now be the one about to hand off her clothes to Gwen.

The boarding house isn't too far of a walk. Inside, Jem leads her to the room she shares with Eddie - now mostly abandoned, save for a few of their things left to keep the room theirs. The three beds shoved together to create one super bed, the dresser littered with some of Jem's jewellery, the things passing as skin care, and Eddie's DND notes.

At the back, Jem's modest collection of shifts, dresses, corsets, and sweaters all hang alongside some of Eddie's shirts, right above their boots. ]
You can take whatever you like. Let me just find some socks - [In the little chest of drawers where she keeps everything else. She adds, producing a pair that is the least offensive, most plain: ] There's banya's all over town, if you want to go soak? But I definitely recommend grabbing a room here, first.
hislittleflower: (107 (Fight) Not guilty!)

[personal profile] hislittleflower 2024-02-18 10:21 am (UTC)(link)
Bold of either of them to assume they could trust the other one. Peony pushed her legs hard, grunting with the effort of keeping up with Ari - even with years on the road, her cardio fitness wasn't the best. Where was the paladin to throw her over his shoulder when she needed him?

And wow, this was some beautiful nature and--

Shit, that was a cliff. "Whoawhoawhoawhoa--" Peony dug her heels in hard, coming to a skidding stop right at the crest of the hidden cliff, frantically flapping her arms to keep herself from falling foward.
ludomania: (pic#16483281)

[personal profile] ludomania 2024-02-18 11:39 am (UTC)(link)
[ glad that she asked but slightly disappointed it's such a throwaway inquiry, he glances to her, hoping to catch her pretty eyes as he answers. ]

Felipe Asztalos. I come from a place called Seris. [ he matches his pace with hers, ready to take her hand in case she slips. ] It's always sunny there, never dark like this. What's your name?
minuteofangle: (038)

[personal profile] minuteofangle 2024-02-18 03:22 pm (UTC)(link)
[ There's always something interesting about listening to an expert talk about something they know like the back of their own hand. The cadence, the words they pick, the nuances inside it. Gabe's got little care for fashion outside of his increasingly rare off-hours, but he listens. Maybe one day it'll prove useful to him. ]

Sounds like something special. You make things too, or just come for the experience?
nospecialhurry: (have you considered)

omg, what if.

[personal profile] nospecialhurry 2024-02-18 04:20 pm (UTC)(link)
"I have, and I should warn you that it's been spiked. It's nothing too dire, and I felt the risk was a fair exchange." Percy does indeed have a mug of heated, spiced wine in one hand, and while he very much does not like a stranger at his back, he doesn't flinch.

His posture goes a little stiffer, but he's not upset.

"Loquacious, I believe. From what I could tell before, it makes you talk a shade too much. Too honestly."
princess_of_ida: (26)

[personal profile] princess_of_ida 2024-02-18 04:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Being a six foot tall woman meant the vast majority of her female partners were shorter than her. Her girlfriend was even shorter than Peony, so Ianthe was well-versed in the dance of kissing one so vertically challenged. It was a familiar bend coupled with the electric charge of being pulled down by the collar. That was hot and finally sparked the right amount of arousal in her that her body began to react.

A light flush on her pale skin. A quick intake of breath. An all-too-easy pliancy that had her pressed against the bondage table with her making use of that leg between her thighs, her cunt nicely pressed against it for a little stimulation as she settled against Peony. Her bone hand gripped the table for leverage, the golden bone now revealed sans clothing to emerge from the meat of her deltoid in a less than pleasant transition.

"Please kiss me," Ianthe replied. This would not be some chaste kiss once given. No, there would be tongue and taste and probably some teeth. A real kiss.
ebrius: (Cnk7K96)

[personal profile] ebrius 2024-02-18 04:30 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, she really isn't sure that she's the right person to ask about this. A long time ago, she might have actually had an answer for Marta that wasn't 'whatever's available' but those days have long since past.

She shrugs a shoulder.

"These days, it's whatever I can get my hands on." She knows how that makes her sound, she's aware. "I function just fine before you say anything."

The last thing she needs is a lecture on alcohol. She's fine.
nospecialhurry: (Default)

[personal profile] nospecialhurry 2024-02-18 04:38 pm (UTC)(link)
Marta can make that expression all she wants, but Percy is aware of (some of) his shortcomings. Brilliant, yes, but a weird, awkward creature at heart.

"Very understandable, and there is certainly a forge. Usually you can find them by the smell, the smoke, and a need for water. I hope that they will allow me to work there until I can build my own." An all-purpose forge is acceptable and excellent for horse-shoes and the like, but Percy has very specific needs. You can't really build, design, and cast a gun at your standard smithy.

"And yourself, what are you good at?" Not tugging on the leash is one thing. A fact that Percy is eminently grateful for. He might not react well to that...

gunshooting: (4)

[personal profile] gunshooting 2024-02-18 06:08 pm (UTC)(link)
"That makes sense. He had a cabin outside town at home too," Nancy answers, words which feel strange in her mouth.

It feels as if it's been a very, very long time since she'd stood on that porch, looking at Jonathan, listening to the fragments of conversation from the others drifting out to them from inside and off in the yard. Hopper's cabin, a little worse for wear but still standing. Better for him returning to it.

How long ago was that? If she tries to tally time in the Fog, it doesn't quite add up. A lifetime. A month. Maybe Quentin knew a way to pin it down, but—

"Are you okay?" is what she asks instead, a maybe equally loaded question.
gunshooting: (7)

[personal profile] gunshooting 2024-02-18 06:39 pm (UTC)(link)
Fuck you is written so clearly on Nancy's face that it likely doesn't matter that she hasn't said it aloud. It's telegraphed in the tightness of her jaw, the rigid quality of her posture.

She had a moment, earlier. Watching these proceedings and thinking that there was no reason to be wearing this collar. No reason to be here at all. She could walk away from it, and maybe someone would try to stop her on the way, but there were so many other people here to draw attention that she could likely make it all the way back to the boarding house.

"Thanks for the advice," comes tightly, as Nancy crosses her arms to hide fists.

This woman is taller than her, by an inch or two. But her grip on the leash is loose. If she's swayed by the man's argument enough to maintain hold on it after he goes, Nancy is fairly certain she could simply go, pull free faster than this woman could react.
policier: 𝓭𝓷𝓽 (forty seven)

[personal profile] policier 2024-02-18 07:01 pm (UTC)(link)
( He stares with a quiet calmness as the leatherworker guts the animal, his eyes a little more fixated on the other man's movements, the effortless way in which he drags the knife and flays skin. His pulse races suddenly, right around the moment Bariyan grips his hands. He sucks in a breath, unable to think clearly for a moment before the stranger's voice draws him back to the present, thanking him needlessly. )

No.

( If he were a mindless beast, in the throes of his transformation, perhaps he would have. But it would not have been fulfilling — gutting a creature that possesses little challenge to him. Better to have someone else do it for him, allowing him the chance to watch. )

Slaughtering livestock does not satisfy me.
dawn_is_breaking: (soft_concern)

[personal profile] dawn_is_breaking 2024-02-18 07:53 pm (UTC)(link)
Dawn is no stranger to such found families and connections and she smiles, perhaps a little sadly, as she remembers her own.

"How long were you with them for?"
dawn_is_breaking: (neck)

[personal profile] dawn_is_breaking 2024-02-18 08:08 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yes." She responds immediately, wrapping her leg around Ianthe's hip and using it as an anchor so she can haul her hips upward. Pressing and grinding her sex against the other woman's knee, the thin fabric between them growing wet and helping to create extra friction.

"Oh yes, I like that my kittens." Rogier pants from what feels like miles away and Dawn ignores him in favor of giving Ianthe's hair a little tug, pulling her lips back up to her own so she can kiss and lick into her mouth while her hips begins to work up into a steady grinding rhythm.
hislittleflower: (061 (Love) Kiss)

[personal profile] hislittleflower 2024-02-18 08:12 pm (UTC)(link)
A tight twist of satisfaction curled through her as Ianthe repeated her request with the proper respect. Oh, that was something new, well, not entirely new. It felt like the hot satisfaction that rushed when her fey presence influenced another. But the first time without using her magic.

"Better."

The chain connecting their collar and cuff was given a sharp pull so that their lips could meet. There was little chaste or polite about it. How long had it been since she'd last been able to touch someone without fear of them turning into a vampire? It had to be well over five months. Five long fucking months on the road with no downtime - no private space to deal with any natural urges. No enjoying the roiling tension of want and self-discipline not to fall to it. Peony met her lips with a fierce kiss, trying to pull as much as she could from this moment before she had to pull back into her usual state of restraint.
hislittleflower: (123)

[personal profile] hislittleflower 2024-02-18 08:30 pm (UTC)(link)
"Three years. Thadds came a little later. Saved us from a tough spot." The crimson red dragonborn who thought himself a Big Damn Hero.

"What about you? Do you work alone?"
hedoniste: (004)

[personal profile] hedoniste 2024-02-18 09:08 pm (UTC)(link)
I can sew enough to do a few alterations on the fly if I need to, but no, it's appreciation. I'm a poet, so I'm a little less practically useful than a couturier.
hedoniste: (064)

[personal profile] hedoniste 2024-02-18 09:26 pm (UTC)(link)
( sifting through the clothes, it's disorienting to think suddenly about all the things that have to happen, and the order that they should have to happen in — what does grabbing a room even entail if you don't have a fucking credit card. what is this place. where does she even begin to begin

with socks. with: holding a dress against herself, a little experimental, glancing at jem from underneath her lashes in a way that's more to do with angle than intent, caution still written in the tension she holds in her shoulders. get a room. soak, that— does sound good, actually. soak in, now, as much information as she can glean from the person who's probably going to have a hard time getting rid of her now that she's got someone to latch onto and ask questions. borrow things from. try to understand.

the ribbon tattoo around her thigh is the same as it was the first time jem saw it, not the last, unaltered; it disappears underneath one of jem's own dresses as she turns this way and that, feeling the shift of fabric on her skin.
)

Do you just...decide?

( on a room, she means. hard to leave something to claim a place when she's arrived with less than the clothes on her back; dumped on the side of the road at home, she could find someone with a phone, call guilfoyle, have a fucking apartment by the end of the day. she's always thought of herself as so self-sufficient—

she'll manage. she'll figure it out. what the fuck else is she going to do.
)
ghostlocked: papa smurf didn't create smurfette GARGAMEL DID (argue • first of all)

[personal profile] ghostlocked 2024-02-18 10:00 pm (UTC)(link)
That's what I'm trying to do, too. Hence the job question.
ghostlocked: i'm gonna hide behind you like you're a tree (oops • hold still)

[personal profile] ghostlocked 2024-02-18 11:06 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, I heard it.

[He's failing to bite back a smile. He's used to strangers divulging wild confessions to him, but it's rare that it comes unsolicited. She's just made his day.

But he has no interest in using it against her, or even mocking her for it. He shrugs.]


I get it. I did some crazy shit for my magic, too. Sometimes you gotta make a business decision.

[Because he wants to stay on her good side, he decides to even the score. He pauses, trying to think of some comparable moderately-embarrassing-but-ultimately-harmless secret to share, but of course he comes up blank when he's put on the spot, even though he knows he's got plenty of options. Hm. Anything related to killing is out, given that tends to upset people... Maybe something like—]

Back home I've been dating this girl for like a month and we haven't had sex yet because I'm scared to.

[He freezes, brain shorting out for a second. It wasn't the worst choice in secret up until those last couple words. Not how he would've put it if he'd thought about it for like, two seconds. He gulps at his drink for a long moment to, uh, recover.]

Dogs are also kind of scary and it's creepy how silent it is around here at night. [There, ha ha, all of those things are equal and normal.] So, we're even.