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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?
    riffle: (pic#16604968)

    NETWORK

    [personal profile] riffle 2024-08-14 01:26 am (UTC)(link)
    Any luck?
    formerhighking: (033)

    Eliot Waugh | The Magicians | Niez

    [personal profile] formerhighking 2024-08-14 02:12 am (UTC)(link)
    IN THE WOODS VILLAGE SOMEWHERE
    The walk through the woods had been long, harrowing, and drafty, given Eliot's lack of any kind of clothes. He was sure he had cuts on his feet, and he was none-too-thrilled to be stuck somewhere. He was reasonably sure it wasn't Fillory, but that just meant he didn't know where he was, or why.

    Wandering into the village - and past the ominously looming wall - wasn't his favorite thing either. But he didn't have a lot of choice, so he wandered in, hands strategically blocking, as best he could.

    Several people looked at him, and just waved or smiled, as if he wasn't currently flashing them. Eliot frowned, unsettled. It was almost a relief when he saw someone looking less than thrilled, but when Eliot approached them, they still greeted him and guided him to the boarding house - where apparently newcomers could get clothes and a place to stay and food.

    Eliot didn't like the idea that "newcomers" came in the form of people who didn't plan to be here and weren't dressed and spent hours wandering woods. If it wasn't a singular event he somehow got caught in, it just got creepier.

    Still, clothes were clothes. He pulled them on, finding them a little short for his tall frame but workable - even if it made him look like he was back on the farm, which made him want to shudder. He'd managed a little more color even in his stint out-of-the-current-timeline, even if he barely remembered that.

    In the large main room he caught sight of someone in similar clothes that also didn't fit them and made his way over. "Are you new to our current bizarroland accommodations too?" Eliot asked.

    THE FESTIVAL OF SUMMERTIDE - LOCK AND KEY
    A festival sounded like a better time than trying to wander the woods and find a way out, or moping around the boarding house. So Eliot went out, putting on his gray sash obligingly and taking in the sights.

    Which he continued to do until someone in passing grabbed his wrist and hauled him a few steps away, where he was tied to another stranger. Eliot immediately tried to undo it, both with his hands and with a spell, the intricate movements of his hands for the spell difficult with his wrist tied. Neither worked and he scowled as the person who'd tied them happily gave them the rules of the "game".

    Blood. Wonderful. He looked at his partner. "I vote finding the key, or making the attempt at least. You?"

    RELEASE YOUR INNER BEAST/NIGHT OF THE HUNTSMEN
    Despite the new, unwanted, and decidedly not sexy enough tattoo Eliot sported, he didn't know how much he trusted the idea that he was now half-monster. He'd already BEEN a monster. It seemed unfair to go through that again. But he wasn't captive in his own mind, so he didn't quite believe.

    He'd been wanting to go through the woods again himself, look for some kind of clues of how to get out of ... wherever this was. It seemed smarter to do it with a group, for safety. He could always disappear from the group if he needed to investigate. So he volunteered to go out with the search party. He was lent a sword (maybe SOME of his magical knowledge came over without the spell going), and hung toward the back of the party, looking for signs of people passing through - but also just for anything that stood out.

    People began to disappear, going back or peeling off, Eliot didn't know which. He felt ... strange. Detached in a way he hadn't been.

    Still, when one of the search party he'd been partnered up with suddenly became an enormous bat-like beast, Eliot dove out of the way as it whipped around back on the party, knocking the person beside him out of the way too. He quickly cast a bolt of battle magic toward the bat, knocking it back, and called to the person next to him as Eliot got his legs under him again. "I think we run?!"

    Wildcard
    [None of these grab you? PM me and we can plot something else! Or just start something and I'll roll with it if you'd rather.]
    serpentigena: empireants @ ij (059)

    [personal profile] serpentigena 2024-08-14 02:21 am (UTC)(link)
    It sure does. It's also a pretty common theme with almost everything else here, too, so there's that to look forward to as well. Saying this place keeps people on their toes is probably an understatement.

    This place would also be one hell of a mass hallucination if it weren't real, god, that's more nightmare fuel to think about later at 3 am when you can't sleep. “ha, they're cool scales because they're kind of glowy at the edges. I'm also pretending like that's a positive somehow.” Sure, yes, close enough. Anyway... “Since this place has been firmly established as insane, what's Tal'Dorei like?” You know, hopefully more chill, potentially questionable leaderships aside.
    marcas: s n (006)

    [personal profile] marcas 2024-08-14 02:49 am (UTC)(link)
    [ pretends this is before the louise tag ]

    I have not had any luck finding the witch I am looking for.
    Can you help me?
    whatsinfrontofyou: (wing)

    [personal profile] whatsinfrontofyou 2024-08-14 02:59 am (UTC)(link)
    "Currently?" Vex frowns, a guilty look shadowing across her features. The particular set of her mouth makes it look like she bit into something tart and underripe. "Being ravaged by dragons. It's a bit of a mess."

    And until a couple of days ago, she was rather convinced she would die trying to stop that.

    "Half the cities I've seen recent were either on fire for one reason or another, or hiding and hoping that the world outside would pass them by."
    riffle: (pic#16604969)

    [personal profile] riffle 2024-08-14 03:42 am (UTC)(link)
    Oh, so not any one will do.

    [ Disappointing! ]

    I may. Describe her for me.
    marcas: s n (007)

    [personal profile] marcas 2024-08-14 03:51 am (UTC)(link)
    I will do that.
    Her name is Louise Grimshaw.
    She has long dark hair and light blue eyes.
    She spends a lot of time in her house so she is pale.
    I have not seen her in a long time so maybe she is not pale anymore.
    She is young and also short.
    She likes tea.
    Is this familiar?
    donotgofar: (pic#17066751)

    [personal profile] donotgofar 2024-08-14 03:58 am (UTC)(link)
    Vax welcomes her close and leans into her, their weight supporting each other. His head rests against Vex'ahlia's. This is the effortless familiarity he's missed so badly: the other half of himself that helps him find balance. There is a lot to talk about, but for now Vax is content to take comfort in his twin and to allow her the same.

    "I'm glad you weren't," he admits quietly. "But I'm glad you found me... you don't want to know how long it took me to get out of the fucking woods when I got here."

    She's always been far better in the wilderness, sure of herself and able to survive.

    "Are you hungry? I can nab some food and bring it back here."
    riffle: (pic#16563859)

    [personal profile] riffle 2024-08-14 04:12 am (UTC)(link)
    Can't say I'm familiar.
    She's not of this place, then. You seek someone from home?
    whatsinfrontofyou: (vane)

    [personal profile] whatsinfrontofyou 2024-08-14 04:57 am (UTC)(link)
    That isn't the first time he's said something to that effect, that he's missed her and that he didn't want her here. And then sure that she would do better than he would in the woods... ha, still so confident in her abilities.

    "Should have gotten here soon so you wouldn't get lost out there on your own," she teases. Then keeping her voice light for Vax's sake and her own. Half the trick to surviving is keeping up the act. "This food, it wouldn't happen to come with a bottle would it? Or a tankard...shot glass? After the day I've had, I'm not feeling especially picky."
    ghostveins: (pic#17268110)

    [personal profile] ghostveins 2024-08-14 04:35 pm (UTC)(link)
    [ she manages not to laugh, but her eyes flash with amusement. ]

    Now where would I meet one? [ at a costume party perhaps? ]
    pentameters: (3)

    oz | original.

    [personal profile] pentameters 2024-08-14 05:13 pm (UTC)(link)
    WARNING: Oz is lightly psychic, able to read ambient emotions and send psychic messages; he is also willing to manipulate what he picks up from others. However, his psychic abilities are frequently on the fritz; he can just fail to read your character if you'd like to opt out. Let me know!


    a. IN THE WOODS SOMEWHERE.
    A man over six feet tall has, thankfully, already snagged some clothes off a clothesline. A long Ebeneezer Scrooge style nightgown comes down to his knees, and it's a bit incongruous with the bursting flora of the summer woods. When he sees you, he has enough grace to bow, though the gesture seems a little... ironic. Or maybe he's just too damn pleased with himself. "Good greetings to you traveler; I see we are well met. In time I shall know better, you; for now, I am your... pet?"

    He stands, strokes his chin. "Not one of my best. How about-" A step forward, and he yelps. Shoeless, he falls backward, clutching his foot. "Assaulted by an acorn!"

    There is, in fact, an acorn in the grass where he was just standing.
    b. EJECTED.
    "This is a farce!"

    Which is to say, Oz hasn't been playing along. At every chance to enter the festivities, he's turned his nose up at them. You may have heard him ranting about the dereliction of moral will or the criminal silence of complicity. No one seems to be taking him very seriously. But eventually he seems to have pushed this too far, and is run out of the crowd, beaten with sticks and switches. He's bleeding by the end of it, staggering perhaps a little too dramatically for it to be entirely genuine. But he is in pain.

    He sees you, and collapses before you on the cobblestone. "Siren! Sire! I fall upon your mercy!" He stays there a second, then turns his head to the side and looks up, expectant.
    c. TOWARD THE VOID.
    Deep, deep in the woods, Oz stands dressed in black. You may not have seen him at first; he has an eerie stillness about him. But his very pale hand reaches for yours. "I fear-"

    He exhales. He fails to speak in iambs. "I don't like spiders."

    Something twitches in the near dark.
    d. NETWORK.
    HARK!
    I have always wish'd to start speech so. Less clever by half in this straynge making.

    Enough twiddel-twaddel. You are enchain'd!
    How do you break it? Or are you happy?
    Is this how you lyke it, living lyke dogs for the Will of a Tyrant? Quene? Duchess?
    I should sooner see my throat slit, should suche a thing be made to stick.
    Though with time I gather I shall see both.
    Are we Animals, or are we Men?

    I will speak plaine:
    Fuck the Duchess.
    (Though it seems such Methods have all-reade been try'd.)
    e. WILDCARD.
    [I'm down for anything! Mix and match prompts, or make up your own! PM this journal if you have questions.]
    Edited 2024-08-14 22:48 (UTC)
    marcas: n (011)

    [personal profile] marcas 2024-08-14 05:16 pm (UTC)(link)
    [ Still earnest, ]

    The woods. The city. Her house.
    marcas: (052)

    [personal profile] marcas 2024-08-14 05:17 pm (UTC)(link)
    She is not.
    She is from home.
    I am from her home.
    She is my mother.
    But not like other people are mothers.
    ghostveins: (pic#17268240)

    [personal profile] ghostveins 2024-08-14 06:16 pm (UTC)(link)
    Here?

    [ she feigns a scared look. raises her brows. her mouth a little round shape. this town does seem a fitting place for a witch, right? ]
    marcas: n b d (008)

    [personal profile] marcas 2024-08-14 06:22 pm (UTC)(link)
    [ A nod, trying to reassure her now. ]

    There is one here. [ Wanda. ] But she doesn't make me fight; she makes tea.

    She's very powerful.

    [ Without giving it any thought, he blurts out: ] You're not as powerful.
    ghostveins: (pic#17268130)

    [personal profile] ghostveins 2024-08-14 06:41 pm (UTC)(link)
    [ of course he'd think so when he hasn't seen anything from her, but she can't help but be a little offended. he said it like he was so certain. she brushes her thumb over his chin. ]

    No one is more powerful than a witch. [ because they're not real! ] Was it a witch who made you fight, Noth? She should have been more careful with her powers.
    Edited (his name SORRY fhjd) 2024-08-14 19:09 (UTC)
    marcas: (013)

    [personal profile] marcas 2024-08-14 07:40 pm (UTC)(link)
    This is not true.

    [ He's seen it, Salome! ]

    She did not need to be careful because there is nothing I could do.

    [ His voice becomes a little smaller towards the end. What a sight for someone so tall. Only then does it click that she's touching him like... that. ]

    Are you hungry?
    ghostveins: (pic#17268150)

    [personal profile] ghostveins 2024-08-14 07:57 pm (UTC)(link)
    [ hm? she inclines her head slightly, confused by the question and his words before that. the hunger never really goes away these days, so she hadn't realized it, but now that he said it, she is hungry.

    she blinks, but she will not stop fondling his face. it's a good face. ]


    Our talk has made you uncomfortable. You're trying to change the subject. [ that must be it? ]
    Edited 2024-08-14 19:59 (UTC)
    marcas: s n (021)

    [personal profile] marcas 2024-08-14 08:10 pm (UTC)(link)
    It has, but I don't blame you.

    [ In case that's a concern. Even if she looks too relaxed to be concerned, he can't help himself. ]

    So you're not hungry.
    ghostveins: (pic#17268141)

    [personal profile] ghostveins 2024-08-14 08:27 pm (UTC)(link)
    I'm all right.

    [ she says, softly, while staring at his neck. maybe she didn't plan this, but it's terribly convenient to find herself in this position, so close to him. ]

    But I would like to kiss you. [ on the throat. ] May I?
    marcas: (110)

    cw: dubcon

    [personal profile] marcas 2024-08-14 08:48 pm (UTC)(link)
    [ The answer is no. This is a place where that word doesn't carry a lot of meaning, however, and he knows vampires. He was held in the same prison as them for a long time, and they had stories to tell — tales to make him uneasy, perhaps to satisfy themselves by intimidating him. The Bestiary didn't need shackles. Every monster was bound by their powerlessness. That must have been how vampires, among others, found some solace.

    He doesn't want to fight, so he doesn't. ]


    Yes.
    ghostveins: (pic#17268109)

    cw: dubcon >

    [personal profile] ghostveins 2024-08-14 09:05 pm (UTC)(link)
    [ she hesitates because for a moment it feels like he'll say no, but he doesn't and she's hungry, so eventually she leans in and slowly places a gentle kiss on his lips. it's chaste, almost careful, but she's still holding his face so he can't avoid it.

    she checks him quickly to see what effect she had on him before she moves to kiss him again, this time on his jaw. he doesn't have to be into it as long as he's not pushing her away. maybe he's just stoic? then she presses another kiss on him, lower, on the soft area under his ear. his heart was thrumming so loudly before, it was lovely. she wishes it would do that again. ]
    riffle: (pic#16660073)

    [personal profile] riffle 2024-08-14 09:28 pm (UTC)(link)
    Not by blood, by something else?
    I'm afraid this sphere is severed from the others. If she did not come with you, I doubt she is here.
    minuteofangle: (022)

    Ejected

    [personal profile] minuteofangle 2024-08-14 11:41 pm (UTC)(link)
    Technically, Gabe's supposed to have an escort when he's up and about in town these days. Technically he does - he's just dodged her for the moment, mostly because he's feeling contrary. And now there's someone down on the ground in front of him.

    So, that's new.

    Gabe rests his walking stick against his shoulder, pinching the bridge of his nose. Okay. "My what now?" he asks blandly.

    He's dressed in layers, the cracked sunglasses pressed firmly in place.