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rubilykskoye mods ([personal profile] rubimods) wrote in [community profile] rubimemes2024-06-18 01:02 pm
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SUMMER TEST DRIVE MEME

⚰︎ ⍢ ⌲ ⍚ 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 coming 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: nudity, D/S mechanics, public sex, aphro, death, missing persons.

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 emerging from a temporary retreat from the wintry weather. 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, is running actively again as the weather warms back up from the recent snowstorm.

As you explore, 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, and the weather isn't quite amenable to your lack of.

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. Parts of the house still bear the dust of disuse, gathered on various furnishings — bedding, sofas, curtains, wooden tables. However, it's already full of people! Anyone who's already appeared in the village just as you did today lives here. Once inside, you may notice patchwork repairs have been made, and some scorch marks still linger from a recent fire, and some furniture is still lying around in splinters.

Tonight, a few of the townspeople will help out with the new arrivals. They stock the kitchen and prepare a communal dinner of parsnips, pheasant, and squash. During dinner, they (and those outsiders who've already begun to settle) sit down at the enormous wooden dining room table and help orient the newcomers and answer their questions.

finding roommates
Don't spend too much time in the dining room going for seconds, though. 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. The last people upstairs will need to double up to squeeze in. Roommates will not be mod-assigned; players should coordinate directly with one another to determine their living arrangements.


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 breakfast. You may notice they're dressed in a way you would almost call normal — at least, in a manner befitting 19th century Eastern Europe. As you find your way around town to get your bearings, folks 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 or other inventory items, asking questions at dinner/orientation, or staking your claim on a bedroom!



THE FESTIVAL OF SUMMERTIDE

Summer is in full swing, which means it's time to take advantage of the warm weather! Around the town, various games are being played, some sport-based and some more concerned with creativity, problem-solving, sex, or 'fun'. Each round begins with a prayer to the Duchess. Not bowing your head in prayer may get you a few stares from locals, or worse-- opponents may be extra motivated to defeat someone so disrespectful to her Grace.

Each Thursday, buildings are festooned with wreathes of wildflowers, tables are laden with food and drink, and everyone is given colored sashes to wear over their clothes. Festival goers are not allowed to enter the main events unless they wear a sash, and to get a sash they must reveal their curse marks. Those marked with the curse of Wilk receive blue sashes, Diabel get red, Skala receive green and Niez are as ever adorned with grey.



Summertide, the locals are eager to explain, is a festival about adapting to the needs of others, and accepting things as they are. What perhaps isn't explained nearly so well is the expectations placed upon festival goers. Each event has a goal to be achieved, balanced on the point of competition or participation.

Tables overflow with refreshments, especially drinks and chilled fruit to cool the summer heat. Rubeans traditionally spice their foods with aphrodisiacs, something that is so culturally normal to them that they don't feel the need to mention it.

  • An outdoor feast starts the festivities, with commanders, who are expected to give orders, and followers, who must follow the whims of commanders, whatever they decree. Who commands and who follows is decided by the curse-marked sash participants wear. But there's a twist-- every three hours, a horn blows, and the roles switch at random; commanders become followers and vice versa. Many festival-goers, now in a position of command, are eager to get petty revenge on the followers now at their mercy.


  • Fencing! For health reasons, any cut must be properly cleaned, and kept free of contaminants; for this reason, fencers are expected to compete fully naked. Otherwise, you might get some cloth in your cuts!


  • Wrestling! Wrestlers are well-oiled for the matches, making it hard to keep your grip on a slippery opponent. The winner of the match is declared when they have their opponent pinned... and at that point, the winner can do anything they like to the loser until they can get away, if they even want to.


  • A game going on throughout the town, regardless of whether someone consents to participation, is something the locals call Lock and Key. The rules are explained after you are grabbed and tied by your wrist (or ankle, whatever was available) to someone else: the locked binding tying you two together is blessed to be unbreakable until you each draw one another's blood... or find the key, stashed somewhere in the town. Good luck!


  • Anyone who refuses to play along will be ejected from the festivities, and made to run through the crowd while being whipped with thin wooden sticks.


  • Throughout all of this, some of the implementation of these games may occasionally come across as either overly cruel or overly kind. The common people of Rubilykskoye are of two minds when it comes to the treatment of newcomers: some think you are beneficent, sent to fix their problems and free them of your woes. These people, called Blackguards, will do their best to make sure your participation in the games is not marred by cheating, excessive violence, or pain. But others, called the Zlatniki, think little of the outsiders coming into their lands, and will do their best to twist their native traditions toward cruelty and vindictive unfairness when it comes to the Void-touched.

    writer's block?
    If you're struggling to pick a way to engage the prompts, try participating in events, having your characters go against opponents, be drafted into the games against their will, or watching others perform!


    NIGHT OF THE HUNTSMEN

    Rumor moves through town quickly: two nights ago, a hunting party went out into the wood, and no one has seen them since. Anyone who wants to prove their worth to the community is encouraged to join the search parties going out to look for them; in Rubilykskoye, those who provide food for the community are highly prized, especially when they brave the woods to do so.

    You see, the woods aren't entirely safe. Near the town, it's nothing to be alarmed by, and of course the search parties find nothing there. They must delve deeper, and that's where you end up. 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.


    Many peel off, going back to the town proper. The searchers become fewer and fewer. Maybe some of them are going back home, but maybe they're getting lost. Eventually, you walk around a large tree, and you're alone. It's just you and 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?

    Yet the further you go, the more convinced you become that the missing hunters are near by. You're sure you can hear them on the wind, their voices calling out between the trees. Did you just see something out of the corner of your eye? You have to find them. You have to make all this darkness worth it.

    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! Feel free to find the bodies of the missing hunting party-- or hallucinate that you did.


    RELEASE YOUR INNER BEAST

    Something's wrong here.

    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
    Early one morning, alarm bells are rung. The people of Rubilykskoye are quick to explain while boarding up their windows and locking their doors: The Szymanskiy brothers have all transformed! Their inner beasts - duchozweirz, the natives call it - take the form of creeping, skeletal horrors. The beasts hunt and to kill, ripping their prey apart, but that's not all they can do.

    Those who are lucky enough to escape one of the Szymanskiy triplets will leave feeling... changed. The psychic residue these monsters give off cause the afflicted to seek out danger with reckless abandon; they will run toward the monster, into fights, and refuse safety when offered. They must be restrained in a secure location to wait for the pheromones to wear off.

    (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?
    theshrike: (764)

    ABIGAIL HOBBS . HANNIBAL

    [personal profile] theshrike 2024-06-23 01:05 am (UTC)(link)
    IN THE WOODS SOMEWHERE

    Abigail Hobbs walks out of the trees shivering, naked, pitiful. Her hair is a rat's nest, and half of it is stuck to her neck with dried brown blood. The smear of crackled, drying blood extends down over her shoulder, between her breasts, drying at her stomach.

    Yet when anyone comes to help her, she flinches away, lip curled in a snarl. "Get away from me!"

    SUMMERTIDE
    CW: APHRO


    Abigail stays away from the festivities. She stays away from meat. She stays away from anyone with a strong gaze or a look of intent. Hunger curdles in her stomach and she steals food off tables, not remembering that there is no money and everything here is free.

    She gorges herself on sweets. She's not sure why. She feels like a child, she feels like nothing she does matters, she feels like she should be dead. (Maybe she has spent too much time under psychiatric supervision.)

    The food has a quality that makes her want to vibrate out of her skin. It makes her braver. She doesn't join in any of the dancing, the games, but she mills in and out of crowds, nervous with anxiety, nauseous with a hunger she can't name.

    She bumps into someone. She grabs them, and her eyes are wide and dark. Before she can stop herself, she presses her lips into theirs, before stumbling back. "Sorry! Sorry. I- I should go."

    EJECTION . TRANSFORMATION

    Eventually, Abigail's lack of participation is noted. Eventually, she's found out. How everyone found the sticks-- more like switches, the kind her father used to talk about-- she doesn't know. Everyone was just there and laughing and striking her.

    She makes it out of the melee covered in small cuts, breathing hard, her eyes wild. Is this what it's like to want to skin someone alive?

    She feels insubstantial, enraged, enthralled by this potent anger. The summer sunlight moves through her left arm, but it can still grasp, still grab at the nearest bystander. The grey sash at her neck falls away, revealing the Niez mark on her lower jaw. Her eyes glow red.

    "Get out of my way!" But she isn't letting go, and her strength is inhuman.

    WILDCARD

    [I'm up for anything! Mix and match prompts or add your own spin! It's all good.]
    Edited 2024-06-23 02:52 (UTC)
    poleaxed: gent; emb (i have)

    [personal profile] poleaxed 2024-06-23 01:13 am (UTC)(link)
    "There's this guy, Lyubov, who follows me around sometimes, but we have an understanding." Joan shrugs it off like it's nothing. "And, uh, Iakov kept licking me and... other stuff. Look, they're only weird about me 'cause I'm tall. You don't gotta worry about it."
    onlycake: (170.)

    (cw: discussion of murder/femicide as foreplay)

    [personal profile] onlycake 2024-06-23 01:25 am (UTC)(link)
    [ It's romantic, she's letting herself think, much more than the pleasure house had been, and then his voice turns sharp and rakes along her. He intends for a reaction to well up, for blood to pool. ]

    Never.

    [ A withholding denial as she smirks for him, trying to mask the flicker of doubt she'd just felt. She will not doubt this, not now at long last. Besides, they have much more wicked whispers to share with one another. ]

    Did you kill your wife for me? [ She winds her legs around him as she asks, holding him with all the strength in her slim thighs. It is not as if she does not already know the answer. ] So we would be free to marry?
    fiat: that's why i'm dad's favorite. (WZiTXro)

    [personal profile] fiat 2024-06-23 01:39 am (UTC)(link)
    [She's being difficult for the sake of it. Daemon does not think he, at any point, made a mistake-- he has always played the hand he was dealt as well as he could be expected to, given his blood and his needs and the information available at the time. But he can understand why he thought she wasn't ready.]

    [He knows better, now. He uses his relative size to loom, his arms on either side of her head. He bends down to meet her in a pushup, taking her lip between her teeth for a nip that is a little more than playful.]
    I don't believe you.

    [He can also understand why he never had the patience to romance maidens, and instead bought their time, but this is enticing for its novelty. He turns his head to the side to whisper in her ear.] Of course not. Who would want to marry a murderer?

    [He pushes her body close to hers, putting his weight on her, his lean strength. He breathes in her ear. He lets her reckon with the shape of his body, naked against her rough dress.]
    wyldfire: (6)

    Jordana Wyldfire | Original (W:tA ttrpg character) | Wilk

    [personal profile] wyldfire 2024-06-23 01:54 am (UTC)(link)
    FESTIVAL
    *Blue Sash* (cw: public nudity, scars)
    [When asked about her curse mark by the woman with the various colored sashes, Jordana didn't know what hers was or where it was located. It certainly wasn't anywhere she'd been able to find. And since this pretty redhead was so insistent that Jordana be properly adorned, there was no shame in the suggestion that the woman help her find it. Clothing slowly pulled away with light touches as the woman turned the Garou to seek it was giving foreplay vibes to anyone watching. Homid werewolves were, by necessity, desensitized to nudity and her lithe runner's physique was nothing to be ashamed of, though the prominent scar visible on her lower torso like something large, jagged and metal had been shoved straight through her was cause for concern, along with the scar across her throat and the one that looked a lot like claw marks on the right side of her scalp where she had the hair shaved (it never did grow right there since receiving that particular battle scar).

    Jordana brushed aside the concerns about the scars, visibly shivering as the one on her torso was touched. Still, they hadn't found Jordana's curse mark yet and this flirting (was it flirting?) was holding up the line and the others were getting impatient. Whomever was next in line just happened to be at the right angle to catch sight of the edge of the Wilk mark on the bony lump behind her ear, mostly obscured by her black hair, just before someone further back in the line pushed and audibly complained.]


    *Lock & Key* (cw: potential violence, potential misandry)
    [This wasn't the first time Jordana had been tied to another in this stupid game, though this time they got her and her erstwhile companion about the knee. Her eyes flashed in irritation, turning to the other person to snap:]

    Blood or key? Choose.

    BONE HORRORS
    [Jordana's instincts were to go rip those skeletal abominations to pieces and grind the bones to dust between her jaws, but there was a far more pressing issue than her Rage. There were people careening wildly and uncontrolled toward the creatures, like they wished to embrace death. She'd seen effects like this enough times over her life to know these people were not in the right mind. Unable to defend themselves. Black Unicorn demanded she intervene.

    This would be easy if she didn't need to maintain the Veil, but none of these people needed to know there was Garou in their midst. Even with these monsters. Jordana wasn't a strong woman in her homid form, but she was stalwart. The next person to go running toward the bone creatures with a manic look on their face was shoulder chucked hard into the door of the nearby building, sending them tumbling inside. Placing herself in the threshold to block the exit, she squared up.]


    You will be staying right here. Do you understand?

    WOODS
    [The woods were dark and full of dangerous things. The black wolf dusted in grey trailed the person foolish enough to travel alone in these parts. While the wolf was too good to be detected by most people, that uncanny feeling of being watched was impossible for Jordana to disguise. After all, she wasn't a New Moon.]
    boneblood: (3apa67)

    [personal profile] boneblood 2024-06-23 02:20 am (UTC)(link)
    Yes
    I'm still learning
    onlycake: (179.)

    [personal profile] onlycake 2024-06-23 05:10 am (UTC)(link)
    [ That nip, verging on a bite, is exactly what she thought she was done aching for. She'd put his Valyrian steel necklace away, tried to put him away, but he's proven there's no banishing him. He will always find her. ]

    I know you don't. Because you have often thought of me when with your whores.

    [ Whispered back against his lips, surging up to meet him for another kiss. She would not use Otto's words if she were not trying to get a rise from him but she knows now that it must be true. His interest had not ever, in fact, been idle. ]

    Your hands are far from clean. [ He's far from clean now but she cannot bring herself to care, not entangled with him as she is. He's a cage atop her and she can feel him making his intension known, staking a claim that's never felt more appropriate. ] I'll not have you lying to me, Daemon.
    marcas: (049)

    [personal profile] marcas 2024-06-23 09:58 am (UTC)(link)
    [ Magic user. This is good. ]

    Which spells do you use?
    lambencies: (Default)

    szymanskiy

    [personal profile] lambencies 2024-06-23 10:03 am (UTC)(link)
    [ Alicent frowns as she looks at her handiwork. the knots will hold, perhaps, but she worries she didn't tie the ropes tight enough. she lacked the strength to secure them after the townspeople who helped her to bind the newcomer to the fence post left.

    she has to take a step back when Mina starts trashing. ]


    Did you not hear their warning? You cannot go after the beast in this state.

    [ reasoning with her might be futile, but she cannot just abandon her here without saying a word. ]
    littlemissfutility: (ggVedzy)

    summertide.

    [personal profile] littlemissfutility 2024-06-23 01:21 pm (UTC)(link)
    Beth's never kissed a girl before. Her first thought - after surprise, tensing at being grabbed, adrenaline kicking through her spine - is that it doesn't actually feel that different. No stubble, that's the only thing. Softer.

    It wakes something in her, lays a spark to the kindling of whatever the hell they've been doing to her here with food and fear, all those warnings about monstrous changes. She takes hold of the girl's hand, fingers closing hard around it. "Wait."
    theshrike: (767)

    [personal profile] theshrike 2024-06-23 02:59 pm (UTC)(link)
    Abigail is so glad this girl is blonde, so glad she could cry. She doesn't cry. She won't let herself cry over something so stupid, when she barely cried over all those girls, the ones who weren't blonde at all.

    But she still moves her hand out of this stranger's grip on instinct, flapping her wrist in the air like she's swatting a mosquito. She doesn't move besides that, though. "Yeah?"
    littlemissfutility: (gsiX5bB)

    [personal profile] littlemissfutility 2024-06-23 03:37 pm (UTC)(link)
    Beth lets her go, her grip loosening as soon as the girl starts pulling away. There's something indignant in her voice, but coyly, like it's probably a joke. "You can't just kiss somebody and run away."

    Well, you can, but it seems like a jerk move to her.
    theshrike: (773)

    [personal profile] theshrike 2024-06-23 03:50 pm (UTC)(link)
    She doesn't like to be challenged. It happens so rarely, and always goes bad places. Abigail frowns. "I can. I can do what I feel like."

    She stands a little straighter, fists balling.
    littlemissfutility: (ggVedzy)

    [personal profile] littlemissfutility 2024-06-23 03:54 pm (UTC)(link)
    Ooooookay. Not the right thing to say. Beth pauses, taking in the way the girl squares up; she looks like she wants a fight, which makes the kiss even weirder, actually.

    "I didn't mean it like that." Like she was going to force anything, like it's an actual problem. "Just - if you're going to kiss me, you should stick around after."
    theshrike: (936)

    [personal profile] theshrike 2024-06-23 04:03 pm (UTC)(link)
    The idea that she's being flirted with doesn't occur to her. Abigail just stares. "It was an accident."
    minuteofangle: (027)

    [personal profile] minuteofangle 2024-06-23 04:48 pm (UTC)(link)
    Nah. Just a cut.

    [ He's mostly forgotten it, truthfully. ]

    Sometimes you have to bleed a little to get out of things around here.
    fiat: that's why i'm dad's favorite. (QVJvuvH)

    cw threatening violence, bad vibes.

    [personal profile] fiat 2024-06-23 05:05 pm (UTC)(link)
    [His goading works. If she doesn't want romance, she won't get it. She's always been able to get his blood up, no more than when she was a child, a doll-like beauty that begged to be broke. He moves off her just long enough to flip her over, moves back down to press himself down over her once again. His body is long, pressed into her back. There's heat in his voice, now, desire.]

    Do you want to be treated like my whores? [It's a threat, it's a question.]
    boneblood: (3apa70)

    [personal profile] boneblood 2024-06-23 05:54 pm (UTC)(link)
    I don't really have names for them
    Or an explanation...

    I could demonstrate, though, if you were interested.
    littlemissfutility: (hnaGeUm)

    [personal profile] littlemissfutility 2024-06-23 07:35 pm (UTC)(link)
    Which is a weird reaction, one she's hesitant to push at. "I was kidding. It's fine. Are you...okay?"

    Because you don't seem like you're okay.
    theshrike: (940)

    [personal profile] theshrike 2024-06-23 07:39 pm (UTC)(link)
    Abigail reasons that even pretending to answer that is a losing bet. Nobody in their right minds has thought she's okay in a long time.

    And admitting it means being locked up, historically.

    "I don't need your help." But her pupils are still to big, and she doesn't want to leave. Abigail takes a step forward, not sure why.
    littlemissfutility: (Fd6K1rE)

    [personal profile] littlemissfutility 2024-06-23 07:59 pm (UTC)(link)
    With that brittle insistence, it starts to feel aggressive when she steps forward. Beth's shoulders straighten, going tense. "Fine, okay, you don't need help. Chill out."
    lascivient: (51 - VIO5pMx)

    feast because why not

    [personal profile] lascivient 2024-06-23 09:19 pm (UTC)(link)
    [ Aegon's reaction is slow, blinking down at his abused hand as Noth stares at him in return. He brings the cup in his opposite hand to his lips, taking a sip of wine (it's clear this is not his first) as pale-violet eyes return to tall, dark, and handsome. The king is adorned in a red sash, the buttons on his tunic undone, the bare skin beneath peppered with fresh bruises he'd no doubt obtained commanding some other unfortunate soul earlier in the evening. ]

    I trust you mean 'Whatever you want, master,' for 'no' has no place in your vocabulary tonight. I shall pardon the slip this time.
    guilliman: (pan out)

    [personal profile] guilliman 2024-06-23 09:44 pm (UTC)(link)
    "If you have not already experienced it, part of the Rubean curse is awareness of what is akin to an astropathic vox-channel. Many of the individuals lack any communications discipline, but their intentions are not malicious.."

    The only other thing that seems important...

    "These are not my lands, or my Father's lands. Yet. But you are still a citizen of the Imperium of Man. If you find yourself needing something I can provide, do not be afraid to come to me."
    ragedagainst: (Default)

    [personal profile] ragedagainst 2024-06-23 10:11 pm (UTC)(link)
    "I never read the fuckin' emails they send." Ren clicks her tongue on annoyance. "Too fuckin' many of them." Like what the fuck did she need to know about Alba biting for? She was the daughter of a Ahroun. Of course she was going to bite.

    "Alba. She's eighteen month. Knows her name though 'nd she can eat apples now. Fuckin' loves her apples."
    ragedagainst: (Persuasion)

    [personal profile] ragedagainst 2024-06-23 10:27 pm (UTC)(link)
    Fucking in the woods reminds her of Beltane every time. Indulging in the delight of some willing kinfolk, the ones who got off on the idea of fucking a Garou, hot and ready at the notion of being taken. There isn't the smell of the Beltane fire (mores the pity) and it's too warm for that time of year, but as she grabs a fistful of Joan's red hair and pulls her head back, it's easy to imagine her as kin.

    "Good." Direct, but she could appreciate that. Better then coming over all tender and having her disappointed.

    She lowers her mouth to the tips of her shoulders, neck and spine to scrape teeth and interposed kisses with bites. In the meantime her other hand rounds Joan's hip to roughly yank the opening of her trousers apart, groping for a moment and snorting against her skin at the lack of easy zipper. Fucking hell, what was this, a fucking LARP convention? "Spread y'legs." She rumbles.