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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.
FAQ ✧ SETTING ✧ CALENDAR ✧ RESERVES ✧ APPLICATIONS
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.
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:
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:
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.
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.
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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!)
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
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?
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?
Wildcard (cw: blood, flogging)
Ianthe was found at an aftercare station by a booth dedicated to various forms of impact play. She sat with her torso bare, leather collar about her neck, and her long blonde hair in a tight French braid. The length of braid draped down her from while one of the villagers gently cleaned the long lines of blood from her back, remnants from someone enthusiastically taking an implement to her. Surprisingly, there didn't seem to be any actual welts or wounds found under the blood as it was cleaned.
That golden bone arm Peony had been told would identify the Deathwarden? They hadn't been kidding. The entirely of her right arm from phalanges to where the bone emerged from the meat of her deltoid was of a metallic gold, and she appeared to have full control and articulation despite there being no flesh upon it save for a fatty pad on her palm.
no subject
How curious that she required assistance in healing though. Unless this was some manner of a religious rite; beat your cleric to make your Gods happy? With a keen investigatory eye, Peony observed the lack of wound. Perhaps it was someone else's blood? Yes. This had tones of some religious something or other she had no place in.
"You have my sincerest apologies for intruding on your ritual, Lady Deathwarden, but I must implore you to listen to me, as none other have heard my words so far." Her tone was deferent but urgent. "I am Peony, beloved champion of Lady Titania, Queen of the Summer Fey and I am afraid I must demand hospitality of you."
Yes, this blonde waif of a dot, stood in borrowed clothing and the freshness of new arrival, dared to demand. Audacity was a dear friend of hers.
no subject
"Have you not been given hospitality already? I see clothing upon your body, a Dominant's cuff upon your wrist," Ianthe replied. "You should have been given shelter in the boarding house, food to eat. What has been denied in a way that you must demand anything?"
no subject
"Transportation to the plane of Barovia, to wit; freedom of self. I require a cleric with access to the banishment spell or planeshift - a druid may suffice in that but I am not entirely sure. I would settle for a wizard if I must. I am afraid I have urgent matters to attend to that will result in the deaths of thousands." Peony was rarely solemn in this matter. "I shall owe you a debt of gratitude that my lady will seek to satisfy as soon as feasible."
no subject
"Extra-planar travel is currently blocked by means greater than the power of gods, otherwise myself and the other Void-Touched wouldn't still be here. You'll likely find any attempt to communicate beyond the Void summarily blocked as well."
Back cleaned, Ianthe paused in speaking to Peony to turn and give the villager an appreciative kiss before they got up to leave. A shift was then pulled on over her body as it was still winter.
"I can assist in helping you settle in here for the time being and join the efforts to uncover a means to pierce the Void. I know this isn't the answer you're looking for but it is the hand you've been dealt here."
no subject
But a small spike of anxiety flushed through her at the thought that not only her friends but Lady Titania would be out of communication and Peony curled a long strand of hair around her fingers to fidget with it.
And then the Deathwarden kissed one of her flock and Peony's eyebrow shot up in polite confusion. Had she failed to greet her partner? "If this is how you dismiss your followers, I can't help but ponder how you part with friends."
Sometimes you simply had to say the stupid thing out loud. And then, swiftly, as if she hadn't said anything at all, Peony blithely added; "I would be happy to add my bountiful efforts to the cause."
no subject
"You don't have to answer that now. Enjoy the festival. Sate your zadza to keep the monster that lurks within at bay. Learn how the people of Rubilykskoye exist and find a way to contribute." Ianthe then let go and cast a look across the way.
"After my personal business concludes on the day after the festival ends and my vacation ends, we can find the best way to apply your particular skills."
no subject
Peony lifted her chin with the touch, all the better to display her pretty face in the light, eyes fixed on Ianthe's lips and lashes lowered. A very deliberate action on her part. If there was one thing that Peony had learned from many years of dealing with influential people it was that they were always willing to believe they were an object of want.
That the Deathwarden was kind on the eyes didn't hurt her cause either. Disappointing that she let go so quickly.
"You might wish to bring a notetaker when we meet again. My skills, talents and magic are innumerable and it would be a waste for you to tire needlessly." Being in the pocket of a woman in power might suit her well. "Consider me at your service once your duty recommences, my Lady." And she delivered a sweeping curtsey, graceful as if she were wearing the finest silks rather than a borrowed cotton dress.
As for sating her zadza - that might prove more challenging.
no subject
"I'll be sure to have either Yorik or Viola on hand, assuming skeletons don't bother you." And if they did, she'd probably still bring one to take those notes for her. It was still technically Ianthe taking the notes but she was lazy enough to let a construct write them.
"And Ianthe is fine. Careful showing your deference to me while on festival grounds. I've chosen to be a Submissive, and your cuff denotes you as a Dominant."
no subject
Peony quirked an eyebrow. "Is it punishable to reject a role forced upon you?" And for the idea of Ianthe choosing; "It didn't seem terribly negotiable at the time. In fact, it seemed positively mandatory from what I saw. But admittedly, I am still recovering from my exhaustion. I might have misunderstood."
cw: chastity, sexual punishment
"I only know of one dragon here, but I wouldn't be surprised if any of the Skala transformed into one." She also was under the incorrect assumption that said dragon was just a monster and not just an alternate form of the person in question.
"Whether the role was assigned or chosen, once given it is indeed punishable to act outside of it. Would you like to see the stocks?" Regardless, they needed to leave the aftercare station anyway, so Ianthe directed Peony to walk with her.
"Roles were assigned based upon specific curse marks. That makes you either Skala or Diabel. The Wilk and Niez are assigned Submissive," she explained. "Last month, the city enacted a chastity ritual to culminate in this week's massive release of zadza. Those that managed to maintain chastity was rewarded with their choice of roles. I'm Diabel, but I've been needing a certain itch scratched as of late. So I chose to be Submissive."
no subject
A chastity ritual. What a shame she hadn't rolled out of the forest a month prior, she might have been able to contribute something useful. Peony fell into step with her, curious at this supposed punishment. "So that wasn't the outcome of your religious rite. It was personal gratification." Peony commented with brow arched. Interesting. Intimidating, but interesting. "Quite the itch."
"The Wilk and Niez - is it common for them to be assisted to the subservient role? Is there something within those given that mark that makes them as such or is this merely for the enjoyment of the festival?" All she could hope was that it was a common thing, that would give her the opportunity to keep hands off her own self and on others. That mean she might have a hope of retaining her pact.
no subject
"Oh, that wasn't for me, but the woman I was with. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a good flogging as much a the rest - pain is clarifying, but my desire this festival involves restraints." Ianthe tended to give off too much top energy for people to think she'd be into being tied up.
"Just for this festival. Each curse mark tends to have its stereotypes, but that has little to do with sexual preference and more about the things that lurk under the surface. This particular festival is focusing on the dominant/submissive relationship and sadomasochism."
no subject
She crinkled her nose as disappointment washed over her. Perhaps she could simply return to her old habits when the urge got too much; find some random, get them off and escape before they could return the favour.
But, as her mind ticked over, instinct to carry on the conversation took over and she asked, "Do you wish to be restrained because you're perceived as intimidating and wish to be conquered in a manner that won't impact your gravitas or because you wish to be rescued from whatever weight of responsibility rests upon your shoulders through being immobilised to act?" A moment. "Or merely for the fun of it?"
no subject
"Most of the Rubeans do, within their personal preferences. As for the Void-Touched... your mileage may vary. There are many that balk at the expectations here, resist the communal nature. The locals wish for us to assimilate but only a few are." Not even the Deathwarden is assimilating, though she certainly makes it look like she is.
"As for myself," Ianthe continued, as they started to move through the various vendors or items for the festival - sex toys, accessories, paraphernalia, jewelery, clothing pieces, and food - the scents and sights were tantalizing. "A little Column A, a little Column B, but mostly for fun. Though rescued is the wrong word. I want a break from my own mind."
[cw: mentions of cannibalism]
The number of door handles with animal tails attached was curious and Peony made a mental note to return to that stall later and interrogate the owner as to the purpose (A cultural item? She pondered).
"I wouldn't recommend it, personally. In the many times I've been held captive in bindings it was rarely an enjoyable experience. Ooh--" And with that thought she darted off towards a vendor selling scarfs and other pretty accessories, eyes wide at the prospect of something beautiful to enjoy.
no subject
"Likely whatever was keeping you all in Borovia isn't as strong as that which brought us here. We don't know that either," Ianthe pointed out. "And there's a huge difference between being shackled as a prisoner and bondage-- And you're not listening anymore."
Ianthe trailed after Peony and watched her browse the vendor's wares, staying just behind her as to not crowd. The vendor looked at Ianthe, at her collar, then at Peony and her cuff. A questioning eyebrow was raised at the Deathwarden and Ianthe shook her head. No, this Dominant had not claimed her. Which meant, no discount, no easy barter for Peony. Not during the festival.
Ianthe was looking forward to listening to this interaction. It should be entertaining.
no subject
The warlock yawned, dipping her hand into the pocket of her dress to smash some berries and press the colour to her lips as she covered it. "Oh, my apologies friend. It's been a very wearying few days." Her wrist flicked away the remnants of the Friends cantrip as she lowered her hand once again. "Now, I really want this. What could I do to persuade you to give it to me? It'd make me ever so happy to have an item as fine as this." She asked, tone honeyed to the market vendor but direct and demanding to any others who weren't currently charmed by her. "I have songs I can perform, many tales to tell and a delightful puppy who will dance for you if I ask him to." She smiled. "Or, I can resolve any problems you might have with the local fey."
no subject
Ianthe wasn't familiar with the theorem Peony used, but she watched it weave into existence. Something that influenced the mind, given the tone of Peony's voice did not match with the expression on the vendor's face. Apparently a dancing puppy was what delighted the vendor the most out of the options listed.
Honestly, it seemed like a wasted effort on Peony's part. It was just a ribbon. Likely all she would've needed to trade for it was a salacious tale about her festival activities... something Ianthe assumed could be made up. Really, the vendor's that didn't have a good view of the closest demonstration booth just wanted juicy stories.
no subject
The next few seconds were a testament to how dearly that familiar loved his mistress as he lifted onto his hind legs and started to 'dance' by jumping around on the spot, adding a twirl for panache (he was a feyling himself after all). And while the vendor was distracted, Peony took the moment to lick away the berry juice from her lips, swiping it with a thumb to remove the last of it.
Once the vendor was satisfied with the puppy's performance and Peony had pocketed her ribbon she thanked them gratitiously before turning to Ianthe. She put a hand on the small of Ianthe's back and started to guide them away swiftly, leaning in to mutter under her breath. "We only have a few seconds left before she realises I cast a spell on her. On we go to the stocks you wanted to scare me with." Bernie scampered after them before disappearing in another flash of smoke.
no subject
For as much as Ianthe was a beanpole and looked like a stuff wind would blow her over, trying to move her in that moment was like running facefirst into a wall. She did turn but that was after an intentional moment.
"You do realize this is a community where people talk. You just made your life here harder for no apparent reason and you still overpaid for a fucking ribbon," Ianthe replied, keeping a hand on Peony but not walking any faster than usual.
An angry cry went up behind them as the vendor realized something had manipulated her.
"Decide right now if you're going to settle this here or let it become gossip."
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"I don't see the problem. She got more than her item's value. It's a fucking nice ribbon." The warlock refuted with a frustrated pout. Before sighing and turning back around with a roll of her eyes.
She couldn't have her reputation dragged through the mud before she even got it established. "My friend--" Peony lifted her hands in apology to the vendor. "It seems I have committed a grave faux pas against you. I didn't realise it was thought of negatively to use influence in bartering here. My deepest apologies." She place a hand over her heart, affecting the part of one genuinely worried at having offended. "Please allow me to make this right."
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But Peony turned to try to smooth things over. The vendor was angry and thought slapping Peony across the face once was retribution enough. One offense in kind for another. Ianthe made no move to stop it. Zadza was zadza.
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"I'll consider us even then. And I'll be back for one of your shawls another day." She quipped, ever the performer and unwilling to break the character of being utterly unshakeable. Especially as she could feel Ianthe's eyes at her back. With a toss of her hair and chin raised, she turned to leave with a sigh. "Now, your stockades?" She prompted with a haughty air.
cw: free use, ref to somnophilia and non-con
"Your dog isn't a dog," Ianthe said as they continued walking. The stocks weren't far - there were a few places around the festival grounds with them - and a few large cages were situated nearby too. Inside those were some teenagers in the midst of their rebellion years, resisting their designations just to resist.
The stocks, on the other hand, had people stripped mostly naked for easy access, left there for anyone to make use of in purging their zadza. One of the occupants was even asleep with the gaoler encouraging anyone passing by to fuck them awake.
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cw: chastity
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cw: pet play
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cw: blood, human sacrifice
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cw: strangulation, sadism, violence, implied non-con
cw: fair bit of misandry, vampire/stalking induced trauma, violence, choking, magical violence
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cw: cannibalism
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Cw: various types of bondage
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