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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?
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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.
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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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"Yes he is. That just isn't all he is. Bernie is my familiar and friend." Peony answered distractedly, folding her arms over her chest in a subconscious act of self-defence of this distasteful sight. It was a violently horrific thing to witness the ability to resist removed and any romantic notions of resisting her designation swiftly slipped from her mind. If she had the power of her party behind her she might have been able to rescue them.
But her stinging cheek reminded her that she was most certainly on her own and a single force against an entire town didn't have a good outcome for her. "How quaint." She dryly mustered a response with a tut.
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"The sleeping one there isn't punishment. There's been a sleeping sickness going around for a couple months now where people are trapped in unending nightmares. Death or sexual contact are the only things that have been shown to end it. In general, if someone ends up in the stocks, they've done something against the community as a whole. It's fairly easy to avoid that fate. Unless you're against listening circles."
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All stick and no fucking carrot.
cw: chastity
"By denying the core aspect of this specific festival, it is seen as denying the fundamental foundation of the community. It's not every festival, every gathering, just this specific one. Frankly, Peony, I don't care if you comply or not - now or ever - as long as you don't make unnecessary work for me." In other words, don't waste her time.
"I'm not going to bother reporting you. I don't police our ranks. I'm not the Churchwarden; I'm the Deathwarden. I deal with the dead. And I'm on vacation." She raised both hands disarmingly before her. "I'm just a source of information, and you're cute."
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"I am merely trying to learn the rules of a new realm so that I don't cause offence again. And very glad of your assistance in doing so." Learning the rules so that she could examine them for loopholes and subclauses she could work to her favour. "I have no intention of being anything other than a picture of virtue once I understand them thoroughly." Even if their virtues were twisted and bizarre.
But something was niggling at the back of her mind. "What the devil is a dominant? Some manner of job role?" She asked, belaying her ignorance.
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"Ah... new to BDSM, are you?" Ianthe chuckled, bringing her hand up to run a golden phalange along the leather of her collar. With Peony's earlier questions about Ianthe's voice to be submissive, it has sounded like she understood.
"Dominance and submission is a dynamic in intimate relations where partners adopt roles where there is a power differential. One partner, the Submissive, relinquishes control or submits to the Dominant for the scene, se ual encounter or sometimes even the relationship," Ianthe explained. "It tends to involve kink negotiation or other agreed upon boundaries."
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It was like a whole other language she had been locked out of until now and Peony was hungry to hear more; forbidden knowledge was enticing.
"So...like a king and a commoner; a power imbalance?" She asked in clarification, trying to settle it woth the existing knowledge she had. "Unable to defy an order."
cw: pet play
"For a more salient example, say..." She thought for a moment, eyes finding one of the nearby vendors for inspiration. "Say I wanted to be primped and pampered, my hair groomed and braided, and given care and training like I was a prized show dog. For the unconditional love and attention or because I washed to not be human for a while. Or a variety of other possible reasons.
As a Submissive, I could give you - a Dominant - that control, and you would assume the power that comes with being my 'owner' or 'trainer', to fulfill that need or fantasy or release. With that comes an understanding of what I want and the responsibility to meet that. If a Dominant can't, they shouldn't agree and enter into the arrangement." Some level of trust should be present.
"Both parties can end it at any time, but depending on the kind of scene or kink, it's not uncommon during negotiations to establish a safe word - something the Submissive can day that the Dominant will know means to stop."
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She chewed over the thought for a moment. To be dominant in this context meant to be a caretaker rather than a tyrant. She crinkled her nose; how bloody overcomplicated. Did people really find sex so dull that they had to add additional rules to it?
"You're very knowledgeable." It was an observation, not a judgement or compliment but something to cover the dead air as the realisation truly began to sink in quite how out of her depth she was in such matters. Peony's eyes flicked around the area, taking on the interactions occurring nearby in a new light, curiosity getting the better of her as she considered what the arrangements might have been. "Were you so informed when you arrived?" Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought her back.
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Congrats on being Titania's submissive except Not Like That.Ianthe raised an eyebrow. "About kink? Yeah, I haven't run into anything regarding the subject that I didn't already know. I'm from the Third House back home; we're considered the most in touch with our carnal sides." A bear. "And we throw the best parties."
Ianthe had been educated or seen this far earlier than the typical necromancer. "I'm not into it all, but I have an extensive spice cabinet."
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Wow, she hates that thought. Thanks Ianthe.The backs of Peony's ears burned hot as a feeling of inadequacy settled on her uncomfortably. Oh. She didn't like that at all. Her lip curled slightly as she tried to tamp down the feeling. "Ah, the family who raised me had quite the opposite view of young ladies being educated in anything remotely interesting."
But, the Dayvales were the last thing she wanted to be thinking of in this type of place. "Let's move on before one of us ends up getting called to do our civic duty."
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Ianthe grinned, almost like a lioness licking her chops in anticipation of a kill. If it was entertaining to her, she was more than happy to help dear Peony out. She did laugh every as she started away from the stocks and cages.
"You make it sound like it's a chore. I have been having a lot of fun. Don't knock it into you've tried it. What are you into anyway?"
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What was she into? "Pretty women. Handsome men." That probably wasn't sufficient to sate Ianthe's question. "It isn't common to bedsport outside of the marital bed, where I am from." A lie, but a one she could lean on. "Every engagement arranged for me fell through due to misfortune and then I dedicated my life to the service of Lady Titania." She shrugged. "I have never thought deeply upon such matters."
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"Nothing to be ashamed about. Some of the men here are real pigs, and might come sniffing around if they find out, wanting to try to claim you."
She was tempted to warn Peony off from Cesare, but she gave off the vibes (much like her sister) that the moment anything was said about staying away from someone, it was like it became her solmen duty to defy that warning. So, Ianthe stuck to a general warning.
"So what does the fairy queen ask you to do for her?"
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She didn't mind the arm around her shoulders and even brightened remarkably at the question about her patron. Ah, her favourite topic of obsession. "I act in her interest. Routing cultists, defending feylings like myself, bringing acclaim to her name and bringing light and joy to all I can." A bit of chaos was livening to the spirits after all.
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She steered them toward some of the food stands as the scent on the wind was a bit tantalizing. Just because she didn't require food any longer didn't mean she didn't enjoy eating. When she remembered to, that was. And there was such good heart meat in the signature dishes.
"Sounds exhausting." Sounded familiar. "Ever get tired of it?"
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"Oh well, a chastity belt it might well be then." She shrugged lightly, leaning more into Ianthe as if to avoid the crush of the crowds as they got closer to the food stalls.
Tired? "How could I grow tired of the greatest thing that ever happened to me? Without it, I would be married off to some fat ancient lord who barely registered that I'm as young as his oldest son, forced to make an heir and a spare and be his nursemaid until his dying days." Who the wouldn't take a pact when that was the offer on display.
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"This town just did a month of chastity," Ianthe replied with a snicker. "And I don't mean tired in a way that made you wish you'd made a different choice. Just like... needing a break from all that. Lords and Ladies all a lot sometimes," Ianthe said, a hint of something personal in her voice.
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Peony pressed her lips together. "I walked away from the noble life precisely due to my exhaustion with it all. I didn't want to spend my days under scrutiny of which fork was incorrect or how to correctly address a Baron as opposed to a Vice Baron." She confessed. "They're fucking suffocating people." Lady Titania was the only supplication she could tolerate.
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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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