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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?
friendzied: (236)

[personal profile] friendzied 2024-02-26 12:21 am (UTC)(link)
What's wrong with cute?
It's one of my favourite features in a guy.
pharmacy: (158)

[personal profile] pharmacy 2024-02-26 12:23 am (UTC)(link)
[ His nose bumps the booth, and Quentin's grip around her leg goes tight. On the other side, the man with his dick out eases up for a second, but Junko's voice reaches him muffled, and he takes it as an encouragement for himself as for Quentin. The board rattles on his next thrust, and Quentin goes rigid--in his neck, choking, but in his sides and ribs, too, his shoulders, his whole torso wedged between Junko's legs. His dick, damnably, arousal rushing through him right along with panic when his throat is full.

[ His whimper (moan?) when it draws back is stuttered by another snap in. It takes him a second to get acclimated enough to stop keening. He pushes against the board with his free hand, but he can't go far between her grip in his hair and her weight at his back. This isn't what he wanted (it's more). The wet, dumb noise of the cock clapping into his mouth rings humiliating and obscene in his ears. He cries freely. He crackles with bright blue light, in the veins of his ears and the hollows of his cheeks and down his neck. He lets go of Junko to give himself a hand to grind against. Christ. Christ. ]
otherbitches: (dsEPCAX)

[personal profile] otherbitches 2024-02-26 01:48 am (UTC)(link)
"Yeah, well," the truth bubbling in his gut keeps him saying, 'yeah, bitch, I'd never.' Instead he offers up with a shrug: "They got bags." You know. For your face.
poleaxed: static; angry; hand; fight (Default)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2024-02-26 01:58 am (UTC)(link)
"This is why I don't talk to kids. All y'all are just using borrowed fucking insults. I'm a dog, I'm a fucking hag, don't fuck me unless you triple-bag it, Jesus!" She waves her hand dramatically, now both buzzed and entirely, painfully truthful. "You got any new material?"
otherbitches: (parking lot)

cw: f-slur, homophobia

[personal profile] otherbitches 2024-02-26 03:38 am (UTC)(link)
When the hands start waving, Billy starts laughing. Wine drunk. It's a shame she's not smoking hot. "Jesus, bitch, it's not like you're the first person to call me a faggot."

"Sure, we can move on to you licking pussy since you can't get dick."
poleaxed: static; angry; hand; fight (Default)

cw allusions to child abuse.

[personal profile] poleaxed 2024-02-26 03:42 am (UTC)(link)
He sounds like her dad, but he doesn't have the power needed to really swing for it. Joan whirls on him. "So what's that say about you?"
otherbitches: from palpo 💙 (3o3Uo2n)

cw: internalized homophobia, f slur, allusions to dub con

[personal profile] otherbitches 2024-02-26 03:48 am (UTC)(link)
He has the benefit of nearly half a year in this hellhole. Has the benefit of a thousand uncomfortable moments that forced this, that makes him sneer at her: "Guess it means I'm half a faggot."

Though, his old man never would have added the half.
poleaxed: sc; emb (took me in.)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2024-02-26 03:50 am (UTC)(link)
It's such a totally bizarre, unexpected thing to say, it shocks her into a hyena-like shriek of laughter. She covers her face, feeling a blush rise to it and knowing it's the wine. Fuck, she's drunk.

"That's hilarious." She reaches out to pat his shoulder. "You're hilarious, kid. When the- when the men on horses come, just hide. Don't try to fight them, okay?"
otherbitches: (6Af2nT9)

[personal profile] otherbitches 2024-02-26 04:30 am (UTC)(link)
Listen, Billy has a thing about hitting women. He doesn't do it. For a moment, he wonders if this old bitch is gonna make hi— ah. Joan slaps his shoulder and it jolts him, equally unexpected, so purely boyish, something he'd expect on the court, not from her. Unfortunately for her, if the men on horses come, Billy's probably too confident to duck.

"You're fucking wasted, if you're gonna puke I'm not holding your hair back. What's it been? Two days? Four?"
omertae: (• i don’t give a damn)

[personal profile] omertae 2024-02-26 12:34 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Angelo could point out that he doesn't need most people to do what he's trying to do, he just needs one person – and now he has one person. But that might test her patience, so he keeps quiet on it for now. ]

Yeah

I'm outside


[ He's leaning against the front wall, one foot propped up against it, hands in his pockets. All he's missing is a cigarette, which he's really dying for at this point. ]
omertae: besides that i'm innocent (• i've done nothing wrong)

[personal profile] omertae 2024-02-26 12:38 pm (UTC)(link)
American Spirit Yellows. But same difference.

[ Angelo squints down at the ground, digging his foot into the surface and twisting back and forth as if he's scrubbing out a cigarette underfoot. Part of the habit, he guesses. Talking about smoking is so much easier when you're actually smoking. ]

I bet they all roll their own here. I'm kinda used to that being the marker of a huge fuckin' asshole, but I guess around here it's just – normal.
omertae: (• i've got a new story now)

[personal profile] omertae 2024-02-26 12:39 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Dryly: ] Well, that's not very nice, is it.

omertae: (• perfect my cold stare)

[personal profile] omertae 2024-02-26 12:41 pm (UTC)(link)
[ See, now they're getting along. This is all of course down to Angelo's sparkling personality, which he's about to demonstrate in full force. ]

Gonna be real, man, it's probably not hard to have better hair than you. What'd you do, just walk into a barbershop and say 'hey, gimme the normal guy cut'?
princess_of_ida: (10)

[personal profile] princess_of_ida 2024-02-26 12:41 pm (UTC)(link)
I'm the tall blonde woman with the golden arm.

[That's all the identifying information she was going to give. In ten minutes, she showed up, early finding the person she didn't recognize that had that fresh meat scent. Ianthe was easy to pick out of a crowd given her height but especially because her right arm was skeletal and gilded in gold.]

Hey.
ebrius: (R6MMZmp)

[personal profile] ebrius 2024-02-26 12:44 pm (UTC)(link)
"I'll take you word for it."

She's not sure she wants to adapt, if she's honest. It sounds like she's not going to be given much of a choice though. Jessica makes an unpleasant sound and shakes her head.

"You included in that doing stupid shit thing?"
omertae: (• you're appealing to emotions)

[personal profile] omertae 2024-02-26 01:06 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He thought for some reason that she'd been joking, but as she approaches he realises that she really isn't: that's a whole golden arm just dangling at her side like it belongs there. Honestly, he has to appreciate the aesthetic.

His mother raised him not to stare, so he gets most of his staring out of the way as she's approaching, so he can look up at her face once she's actually arrived. ]


Hey. So. Long story short, I can make people feel things they aren't actually feeling. This place put me all out of whack the second I got here, so I wanna see if I can still do it. Don't wanna think it's there until I find out it's not in the middle of a fight or something.
princess_of_ida: (97)

[personal profile] princess_of_ida 2024-02-26 01:14 pm (UTC)(link)
[Aside from the lack of flesh on it, the arm moved with articulation just as if it did possess musculature, as she reached up to fuck hair behind her ear.]

Prudent to learn. I'm interested. What are you going to make me feel?
poleaxed: tired; joke (well i tell you)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2024-02-26 02:26 pm (UTC)(link)
Joan has a thing about not hitting people young enough to still be in school, a characteristic this kid practically fucking vibrates with. The idea of aggression never crosses her mind. If he started something, she'd defend, but not attack. So she pats his shoulders and she shrugs. "It don't fucking matter, man. Just hide if shit goes bad. Just do it."
hislittleflower: (mcweirdo (5))

[personal profile] hislittleflower 2024-02-26 02:56 pm (UTC)(link)
There's a moment of thought as Peony runs through her list of loopholes in her head and she gnaws on her lip as she considers it.

"I think that would count - yes. Too close to the real thing." The last thing she needed was to provoke the ire of her patron. Although - that might give her the chance of getting out of here.
poleaxed: static; angry; hand; fight (Default)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2024-02-26 03:05 pm (UTC)(link)
Joan hmms, going over her options. "Lotta rules," she says. "How long you been under this vow?"
hislittleflower: (099 (Neutral) Cheeky)

cw: mentions of imprisonment

[personal profile] hislittleflower 2024-02-26 03:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Peony presses her lips together in an apologetic smile. Yes, it's a fucking ballache to work around. "Since I was fifteen. So...nine years? The first six years or so didn't matter that much given I was still under my family's care and not permitted to wander freely at the best of times."

Which was a cute way of glossing over the fact she had been imprisoned at the family manor for the majority of her young adulthood. "It was when I made out on my own that I start to figure out the gaps of the vow."
poleaxed: static; angry; hand; fight (what finally cheered me)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2024-02-26 03:17 pm (UTC)(link)
"Fifteen?" It's a hell of a vow. Only Joan's assumption that this is some self-chosen vocation keeps her from freaking out at the very idea. "Jesus Christ, you're committed."
hislittleflower: (120 (Fight) This is awkward)

[personal profile] hislittleflower 2024-02-26 03:22 pm (UTC)(link)
Peony demures slightly at the comment, hand going to the back of her neck to rub it even as it warmed from embarrassment. "Yes, well, I'm incredibly stubborn about the things I care about." Nine years of her pact with her patron and it still felt like yesterday that she had made the arrangement. "Besides fifteen year olds always think they'll die old maids anyway. I just have more of a chance of being correct."
poleaxed: awk; joke; hand; emb (well if you want)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2024-02-26 03:26 pm (UTC)(link)
Joan looks back, squinting at Peony. Is she saying...? "Old maids don't talk like you do."
hislittleflower: (050 (Happy) Chatter)

[personal profile] hislittleflower 2024-02-26 03:29 pm (UTC)(link)
"I suppose that is dependent on your definition of maid." She holds her hands up in admittance. "How should I be speaking? Less tartly? That would be dull." And that was the thing about Peony; times were never dull with her around.