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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?
otherbitches: (QjpLjWl)

[personal profile] otherbitches 2024-03-03 05:12 am (UTC)(link)
It makes him think at least. But, the reality is he's shit at examining himself, can't hardly ever communicate himself to others.

He shrugs. "Once you've been here long enough, you'll get it." Something's matter, something's stop mattering. Something's are protected, some people too. By people you love.
otherbitches: (YD4G7JO)

[personal profile] otherbitches 2024-03-03 05:28 am (UTC)(link)
Don't tell me what I know, [ he spits. And if Nancy missed seeing the Flayer behind his eyes, the fire that flares in them now is a reminder.

He knows the weight of Danny Johnson. Knows pain and shame and brief moments of wanting more. He knows what it feels like to stick a knife in Danny's side, punishment for getting in his head, punishment for getting to Jem. He also knows they might not have stopped Murphy's monster without Danny's knife. Knows when he spoke of his father, Billy felt a rustle of familiarity. ]


gunshooting: (Default)

[personal profile] gunshooting 2024-03-03 05:53 am (UTC)(link)
[ Anger is good. It's easier.

Billy is safe in ways she can't articulate to him. The sharp flare of his fury has limits Nancy knows.

Her thumb presses down at the hinge of his jaw as her opposite hand comes up. Cradles his face. Sees where his lip is swelling, bruised from her teeth. ]


Figure out something worth showing me, and maybe I'll answer a question.

[ Maybe as an exit strategy , an escape hatch. ]
poleaxed: awk; joke; hand; emb (well if you want)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2024-03-03 03:43 pm (UTC)(link)
Drunk and more truthful than she'd like, Joan does something that would normally be unimaginable for her-- she reaches out to pull the kid into a one-armed embrace. It's brief, a half-breath's length, before she releases him. "It'll- it'll all be alright."

She'll make it alright.
hislittleflower: (056 (Happy))

[personal profile] hislittleflower 2024-03-03 05:25 pm (UTC)(link)
You don't seem terribly insufferable. Merely a touch odd. But thag could be down to me being odd too.

[Peony takes note of the encroaching dark, lifting a hand and with a mutter of arcane words she conjurs four brightly coloured lanterns above their heads to light the night. She hadn't been a fan of the dark since stepping into Barovia.

Harlan's comment pulls a small smile from her. Yes. She knew she deserved more. Because she was special and special people deserved to strive for more and more. It was what was owed to them.]


I think I can agree to that. If you promise to pull me up on bad behaviour - it takes me a while to drop the act.
energeia: s (251)

[personal profile] energeia 2024-03-03 06:24 pm (UTC)(link)
[ She turns her head at the mention of homeschooling. ]

Oh — [ A grin, ] I was also homeschooled. It was the same for me before I came here.

[ Unfortunately. They weren't exactly too worried about getting their daughter a qualified job when she was raised to inherit a post-apocalyptic world. ]

Rubeans are a lot more forgiving, so you don't have to worry about that.
bloodflows: (» obtain)

[personal profile] bloodflows 2024-03-03 10:02 pm (UTC)(link)
I'm sure they are, the idea of slacking off on Tiktok's probably not even something they can comprehend.

[Said with a soft smile. He feels a little more relaxed, honestly, because:]

Homeschooled too, huh? Were the school dances as much fun for you as they were for me?
energeia: s (308)

[personal profile] energeia 2024-03-03 10:15 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Tiktok is a word she rarely heard back home and never bothered to learn about. Admitting to it might be revealing just how secluded this homeschooling was, though, and she doesn't have the patience to deal with any shock or scrutiny. You've never heard of Tiktok? How? Okay so it's an app that—

No thank you. ]


We did have dances, actually. Probably not what you're thinking of, though.

[ Her parents were old-fashioned and beyond filthy rich, throwing balls et al. ]
bloodflows: (» series)

[personal profile] bloodflows 2024-03-03 10:45 pm (UTC)(link)
[He's a spoiled former cult kid who got a little bit of time on the outside under his belt. Remind him to brag about that while also being torn apart for missing large patches of pop culture.]

Sooo you didn't end up slow dancing with your sister, letting her stand on the toes of your hand-me-down dress shoes? Tsk, tsk.
veraz: (hair back; shrug)

[personal profile] veraz 2024-03-04 12:10 am (UTC)(link)
Marta bites her tongue on the first thing she wants to say - namely that she'd fight to keep him alive, because isn't that part of what she's been doing with him in the first place? - but he moves his fingers and now she has to catch her breath and her train of thought all over again.

But, look, she can communicate her intentions before the words reach her. By shaking her head very decisively no and not breaking eye contact.

Her hand does go still. She hadn't realized that he hadn't realized, after all.

"If you don't come, I don't want to. Not for the first time." What was that thing he repeated from Benoit? "In for a penny, in for a pound."
veraz: (hair back; screen lit)

[personal profile] veraz 2024-03-04 12:31 am (UTC)(link)
Marta's smile increases a bit, even as she almost mirrors his shrug, only with both shoulders instead of one, all warm and genuine joy in response to the spoken and unspoken compliment.

She also doesn't move to eat her porridge; it's cool out, so she knows she should eat something hearty, but... Well. What a girl wouldn't give for some eggs, beans, tomatoes, and onions right now.

Will's question rouses her from the vague distraction she was making for herself in watching the people around them without staring at anyone too directly. "Of course. What is it?"
irulian: (005)

suvirin kedberiket | the wizard, the witch, and the wild one | skala

[personal profile] irulian 2024-03-04 01:56 am (UTC)(link)
in the woods somewhere

[Suvirin The Wizard Sky awakens in a dark forest, naked as a babe and deeply confused about how she arrived here. There was no telltale warning of magic, no scent that would indicate a spirit. The first thing she does is cast disguise self, covering herself in a simple black dress and hiding the color of her hair; she is a Wizard of the Citadel, but that's a dangerous thing to be, depending on where in Umora these woods are.

She decides to blame the witches, until further information is uncovered, and as a result does not call out for assistance, lest they be listening.

Instead, she walks, her fingers tapping restlessly against her thigh. There is the sound of a stream that she finds and then follows, hoping it will come to a settlement of some kind.

When she comes upon another person, as naked as she is beneath the illusion she's cast, Suvi straightens up, sinking into the soldier that she's trained to be, rather than the scared human she actually is.]


How did you come to be in this place?

[It isn't outright suspicious, despite her tension, but her voice commands respect.]

heart's festival

[This is different than the Bloody Carnival, but not so different that Suvi finds it entirely shocking. She isn't a fan of the leather wrapped around her wrist and had argued for several minutes before finally relenting. It's hidden under the sleeve of her coat for now, though perhaps the absence of a collar makes it clear what she's been given.

(The women's fashion here isn't to her taste, so she's stuck to trousers and shirts and coats, until she can afford to have something made for herself.)

She observes the festival with a detached curiosity, walking amongst the crowd with apparent ease, gently rebuffing any advances with (true) claims of having a partner that isn't present. It would be nice, were Silver here. It would be nicer if Eursulon or Ame or even Steel were here, but perhaps it's better that they aren't.

The first thing that cracks her composure are the plugs. Specifically, the one fitted with a fox tail. It startles a laugh out of her as she realizes what the purpose is.]


Ohhh, he'd hate that.

[She nearly buys one, just in case the Fox ever arrives and she can torment him with it, but she's just shy enough not to want to be seen purchasing a sex toy.

Later, at the ritual sacrifice, Suvi decides to think like a witch and involve herself with local customs. This one is easier to handle than the ones focused around sex. Despite seeming somewhat like a young woman who wouldn't want to dirty her hands, she's comfortable with the knife, quickly slitting the animal's throat before she goes to work cutting out the heart.

It's slightly messy; she's by no means butcher, so if someone nearby is participating in the ritual, she turns to them for assistance.]


Can you help me break the rib cage open?

[She was trying to do such a cool thing but she rolled an 8 on her strength check and has a +0, so it's not going well for her.]

the fathomless dark; nightmare

[Heading out into the forest was a mistake.

It's dark and she's lost and scared, especially when a familiar scent cuts through the air. Bile and blood and iron.

Suvi wishes she had her staff or her spell book or her friends, but none of them are here. It's just her, wandering through the dark, fingers tapping at her side and a spell at the ready just in case she has to defend herself.

And then one of friends is here. a creature, somewhat similar to a bear, runs through the forest on all fours, a golden pauldron on his shoulder. The bear-thing is crying, an animalistic sound that comes across as scared and frantic.]


Eursulon!

[Suvi takes off after him without hesitation, stumbling through the dark and calling out for her friend, unsure why he's so young or what's happening. She just knows that he sounds scared and he's so small and she needs to protect him as best she can, to make up for how she accidentally hurt him when they first met.

It soon becomes clear what Eursulon is running from.

Suvi spots Eioghorain chasing after her friend. He's in his Garran form, the size of a horse and looking like a cross between a hyena and an ape. There's blood on his maw and Suvi briefly freezes in fear, a cold sweat breaking out across her skin as she looks at the being who likely killed her parents and is now attempting to kill her friend.

The fear is washed away by fury and Suvi releases the spell she's been holding onto, sending a bolt of white fire at Eioghorain.

If it even is Eioghorain, and not another poor soul lost in the forest that Suvi has been tricked into seeing as an enemy.]


the fathomless dark; rescue

[Eventually, Suvi orients herself in the forest, forcing herself to remain calm as she marches back towards the safety of the town.

Until she comes upon a spider and its prey, some unlucky person caught up in a web, being slowly wrapped into a cocoon that Suvi suspects they likely won't be able to escape from. There's a brief flicker of selfishness that tells her to leave them, to save herself, but it doesn't last long.

Without her spell book or arcane focus, it takes her a moment longer to cast a spell, but she release a streak of blue lightning that races towards the spider, killing it instantly.

Suvi shudders out a relieved breath, then rushes towards the cocoon, drawing a small knife to cut away the webs.]


It's alright, I'm going to get us out of here.

[She speaks calmly and firmly, hiding her own fear and uncertainty. She can do this, she can get to safety and take her new ally with her, even if she has to carry them.]
ghostlocked: the first 181 blinks had to be if this was the one that survived (hmm • just imagine how bad)

[personal profile] ghostlocked 2024-03-04 07:19 am (UTC)(link)
[Odd. He's been called worse things, so he'll take it. She blew past the murderer thing and that's the part that tends to grind friendships to a halt. That's a good sign.]

I don't—oh.

[For a long moment, he's captivated by the lanterns. He's spent the past few days listing everything he hates about this place, but every so often, he spots something difficult to resent. Magic like this doesn't exist where he's from. The lights hover serenely above them, and you may as well have told him Santa Clause is real.]

You just did that like it was nothing.

[There's a quiet amazement in his voice. He's not shocked given she's just told him about her magic, but seeing it is something else—and she made it look so easy.

Oh, but she's said something.]


What? Yeah, sure. Deal. Is that an illusion? Or are they real?

[He reaches up to touch one of the lanterns.]
hislittleflower: (040 (Neutral) Side profile)

[personal profile] hislittleflower 2024-03-04 12:17 pm (UTC)(link)
We have a Deal. [Just ignore the emphasis put on Deal. No big deal making deals with a faerie.]

[The lanterns are truly beautiful. Upon closer inspection, they are finely crafted with shapes punched into their paper exteriors, one with small flowers, another with the a spray of stars, one with arcane symbols and one with little suns, the glow within a wispish faerie light. It can be touched and bob slightly in the air as Harlan disrupts it's path.]

Oh. Well. It is nothing. Nothing impressive usually. You're safe to touch them - they won't disappear. They're real.

[She looks up at the lanterns and smiles.]

It was the first piece of magic that Lady Titania taught me. To light my path back through the woods. "Walk in the path of my light, my flower, turn your face to it and grow." That's what she said to me. And then I could conjure these. [Peony had memorised those words. Titania's first gift to her. She looks over at Harlan and smiles.] They're a little silly, I know, and a light spell would probably be more effective but they're special to me.
Edited 2024-03-04 13:56 (UTC)
drysdale: (greatnews107)

[personal profile] drysdale 2024-03-04 08:47 pm (UTC)(link)
"Magic, Jesus Christ," Ransom mutters, though less like he's trying to wrap his head around it than that he still thinks that's a weak answer. It's not terrible advice, though, and is the part that actually answers his question. He relaxes slightly. "That's all I need to know."
drysdale: (greatnews228)

[personal profile] drysdale 2024-03-04 09:25 pm (UTC)(link)
Of course he didn't realize. He doesn't speak Spanish. Why would he? Even if he hadn't taken a dead language, why would he choose one spoken by no one he's ever had need or desire to communicate with before her? Still, he does a pretty good approximation when he murmurs, "Cuando no vamos a venir." He's staring straight into her eyes but it's still more for his own benefit.

He pulls his fingers out of her with a huffed laugh. Lets his hand splash quietly in the water, rinse away the slickness. "That wasn't a stipulation." But he doesn't really expect an answer to this either. He's a little surprised but realizes he shouldn't be. Maybe impatient in the moment, but self-aware about it, and this is the girl who'd intended to wait for him to get out of prison.

"Do you want it to be special, Marta?" Both palms pressed to the bench now.

The question is mocking, sure, but there's also something genuinely pitying to it. He can make it good, especially knowing they have the same idea of what good entails, but he can't be that for her. Ultimately he'll seek his own pleasure, and it won't be anything more than sex. He's just not built that way.
veraz: (hair back; cheeks)

[personal profile] veraz 2024-03-04 09:57 pm (UTC)(link)
When the Spanish is parrotted back at her Marta smiles. It's always soft, with this girl, but there's a density to it, every time. A perceptible weight.

She can feel how it unsettles him. "I know. You didn't trick me into it." But it matters, to him, so it matters to her. Together, now or together, not now. The together part cannot be extracted from the rest. It feels like it could be considered by others as an extreme, except for the part where Marta remembers that everyone else he's ever known clearly picked the not at all... with no other caveats... at every given opportunity.

"If I say no, I don't want it to be special. It's because you say special like it's a Christmas candy. Too sweet, too syrupy. Sticks to the roof of the mouth. And I don't want that. And if I say yes, that it will be special to me. Because it's you. You will go back into the water. So I'm not saying either." Marta takes a breath and forces herself to stand, putting her hands on his shoulders to balance as she shifts her weight from one leg to the other.
drysdale: (greatnews303)

[personal profile] drysdale 2024-03-05 12:17 am (UTC)(link)
Oh, how easily he could extract together, but he keeps not doing it, lets her thread her way into his life even though he feels every stab of the needle and knows she thinks she's stitching something back together. She's going to find herself disappointed with what she ends up with, but Ransom can't seem to help watching the attempt in morbid fascination.

He leans forward before she can put too much distance between them, as though to kiss her. "That's not the only option," he says, nearly against her lips. She hasn't yet gained her footing on the bottom of the bath, and he shoots a hand down to grab her ankle before she can lower it — the other he wraps his leg around, yanking her off balance, and uses his free hand to push her down. Pushing her under the water with one hand, dragging her down with the other.

He keeps hold for two seconds, maybe three. But that's enough Mississippis for anyone when the hands holding you down have already tried to kill you once.

He lets go, and by the time she comes up he'll already be reaching for some soap. He did come here for a bath, after all.
veraz: (rubbing forehead)

[personal profile] veraz 2024-03-05 12:30 am (UTC)(link)
She hits his arm once with her closed fist, just before Ransom lets go. Marta is well aware that the impact will be too softened by the water to be anything near effective, but she does it anyway.

Bites back the strong desire to kick him in the ankle by the time she's sat up, because it would be pointless. He won't be sorry. He won't even manage falsely chagrined.

"No, of course not. You could try to kill me, again, because you're having a tantrum that I care." Marta rolls her eyes and climbs to her feet, simultaneously shifting far enough away that he'd have to stand if he wanted to reach her. Not that she thinks he does. "Because you think that means you've lost."

There's also soap over here, so. She picks it up and turns it over in her hands and doesn't look at him. If he wants to have a tantrum, that's fine. Marta's not going to pretend he doesn't exist as a result, but she's not going to beg him for a different sort of attention otherwise. "Sounds a little like a form in triplicate. How many copies do we need?"
otherbitches: (31HIruk)

[personal profile] otherbitches 2024-03-05 04:19 am (UTC)(link)
Oh Christ. He goes stiff in her one-armed hug, mortifyingly discomforted. He's not so unaccustomed to physical closeness, not with a— girl he likes and a guy too, and others, not so far off. The closeness is getting more familiar, but this is not the errant familiar touch of someone who knows what his dick looks like.

"Jesus." He's stiff long enough for the hug to end naturally, expression gone white from the earlier wine-pink. "The boarding house is this way." He reaches up to push her in a herding dog sort of way. "Go on, get, let's go."
drysdale: (pic#17044030)

[personal profile] drysdale 2024-03-05 06:39 am (UTC)(link)
Ransom laughs in a way that echoes slightly off the vaulted ceiling. It traps the brittleness, though, if that undercurrent, the threat of fracture even reaches so high — if she wants to hear that she'll have to be paying attention to him and not the noise he creates around himself. "Jesus, calm down. You've never been dunked before?"

It's utterly belied by the angry scratch of his nails over his scalp, working the shampoo in as perfunctorily as he ever did at Norfolk with a line of half a dozen convicts waiting on the other side of the stall. Not that he didn't take as long as he needed, but if there was any pleasure to be had from the experience, that sucked it right out. His first real shower, bath, whatever in a year and he just wants it over with.

"I think we have enough paperwork between us, don't you?"

He doesn't give Marta the chance to answer, wrenching on the faucet and ducking underneath. If she's keeping track of his tantrum maybe she'll care to note that he only stays under long enough to rinse his hair, then the cadence of the stream changes as he does stand and the water keeps sluicing into the bath. He moves over to her, running his hand through his hair to flick away the water, and he brackets her in with his arms where she's sitting, pretty and wet and pissed. He wants to be immune to all of it but knows better by now. He's managing it.

"You don't know why I went in the water, Marta. You don't know every reason for what I do. You make it sound so beautiful and wise, but you're not right every goddamned time. And it's not your right. Unless you think it is." He searches her face for the indication that she disagrees, that she thinks what she did should give her unimpeded access to his split skull and chest. There's no echo anymore, his voice low enough to be a threat. But Christ help him, he's trying to explain. If she keeps it up he knows himself well enough to know he'll do whatever he has to to prove her wrong, and he'll tear himself apart to do it as much as her. "Just stop. You have to stop."
policier: 𝓭𝓷𝓽 (fifty six)

[personal profile] policier 2024-03-05 04:32 pm (UTC)(link)
Javert doesn't seem the least bit bothered by the other man's insults, his expression just as neutral and unbothered as if Ransom had remarked about the weather. He cannot say he thinks much of himself — his only pride being the way he keeps himself neat and immaculate, but he is not even that at present.

The only thing that draws a reaction out of him is that last bit, causing Javert to frown a bit and scoff something like a mocking laugh. "You have to lie to get someone to fuck you? How unfortunate."
otherbitches: (lYalFTL)

[personal profile] otherbitches 2024-03-06 04:14 am (UTC)(link)
[ Her eyes are as blue as his, her grip surprisingly tight. He thinks maybe Nancy Wheeler from Hawkins wouldn't have the balls, that maybe this is that place, the fog. But, Nancy from Hawkins did try to shoot him with a gun.

He wants to know. But he's not willing to show her. Not now.

He grins sweetly, leans forward and presses his bruised lip against hers, another soft kiss that stimulates those pain sensers. Then there's a click and he steps back, leash loose, Nancy set free. ]


Careful who you meet in the dark. [ He doesn't look back. ]
drysdale: (easystreet49)

[personal profile] drysdale 2024-03-06 09:10 am (UTC)(link)
"That's not what I said," Ransom snaps. "I've never paid for sex."

Which is so far beyond his usual insouciant quips or refusal to justify himself that he just holds up both hands, says decidedly, "Fuck this, fuck you," and turns tail to walk away.
medals: (0102.)

[personal profile] medals 2024-03-06 10:18 pm (UTC)(link)
It felt like … Emptiness? [Something so big, profoundly devoid of anything of substance at all. One second she was in pain, then she was numb, cold, and then it was a little like what stepping into the void had felt like all those months ago.

Quietly, in the considersation of that vast emptiness, she wraps both her arms around Julie’s middle and pretends that it hasn’t been months since they last did this. That maybe it’s just been a few days, that a thousand other things haven’t got tits up in her absence. ]


Quentin did it. I suppose as far as deaths go, there’s nothing gentler.