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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?
    rosarianoath: (Default)

    [personal profile] rosarianoath 2024-08-22 03:05 am (UTC)(link)
    Clive stops and joins her at the tree, looking up into the branches. The bulk of them look strong enough to bear him, at least long enough as he'll need to move across them, but whether he'll be able to reach high enough to see over the treetops, that remains to be seen.

    "It's worth a try," he says. And it'll thoroughly prevent him from thinking about Barnabas, at least for a moment.

    Up he goes, making swift work of the lower branches, his bare feet sure despite the rough branch, his knees and thighs scraping the bark here or there as he hoists himself up. He prays Jill does not look up.
    rosarianoath: (there's not a road i know)

    [personal profile] rosarianoath 2024-08-22 03:09 am (UTC)(link)
    Blood splatters across Clive's face, and the transformation slows so suddenly that Clive finds his self-awareness just as quickly. The great, dog-like maw that threatened to crack and split his own jaw does not surge forth, and he lets go of Khoriya, snatching back his rocky arm and leaving a trail of thick, hot blood dripping from his claws. Steam rises off him, off the tree behind him. He aches. Adrenaline and the beast push him on.

    "Run," he says, and he doesn't need to tell the wolf that, but he will anyway, even as his monstrous self staggers up to his feet to give chase. "Run, Torgal!"
    noburden: (pic#16759522)

    [personal profile] noburden 2024-08-22 03:12 am (UTC)(link)
    No hesitation. Jill wants to look, but also really cannot lest she want to accidentally see more than she intends.

    "Be careful," she says, very helpful, and with nowhere to look she dares a glance at him. She forces herself to focus on the curve of his shoulders and the mop of black hair on his head. It's difficult to both look and not look at the same time.
    rosarianoath: (you broke our spirit)

    [personal profile] rosarianoath 2024-08-22 03:20 am (UTC)(link)
    "I will," he assures her, with a bit of a huff. "Just avert your eyes, my lady."

    But halfway up, he slips. He catches himself a step lower, the drop a mere foot, but he winces at a close call: if he'd caught himself any lower, he might have skimmed his fucking cock on a branch. He swears under his breath, so quiet it's near inaudible. Found fucking help him.
    noburden: (pic#16759547)

    [personal profile] noburden 2024-08-22 03:36 am (UTC)(link)
    "Trying," she says dryly, but it's not as if keeping her eyes on him does anything for helping him up the tree.

    Of course, the moment she looks away, back towards the moving water, she hears him slip. It's the catch that she hears, tensing as she looks back up towards him and sees the lines of hip and curve of his ass, but there's no Clive on the floor so that's good.

    She sighs. They're fine. She looks away again.

    "That didn't sound careful."
    rosarianoath: (Default)

    [personal profile] rosarianoath 2024-08-22 03:44 am (UTC)(link)
    “I cannot weigh less by being careful, Jill,” he calls back, continuing up. The branches thin, and they bend under his weight even when he puts his foot as close to the trunk as he can.
    noburden: (pic#16948602)

    [personal profile] noburden 2024-08-22 03:47 am (UTC)(link)
    She can't help but look back up. Never did she think she'd see Clive from this angle, entirely naked, but she does her best to ignore the straining muscle of his thighs and focus instead on the straining branches beneath his feet.

    "Can you see anything from there?"
    rosarianoath: <user name=sonea> (i saw you in the rain)

    [personal profile] rosarianoath 2024-08-22 03:57 am (UTC)(link)
    Clive boosts himself up the last branch he deems safe and finds himself still several feet off seeing over the bulk of the canopy.

    “Not yet.”

    He chances a look down at her. She’s looking up.

    “Jill,” he complains.
    noburden: (pic#16759626)

    [personal profile] noburden 2024-08-22 04:03 am (UTC)(link)
    "I'm not looking!" She says hurriedly, voice pitched higher out of embarrassment. There's a difference between looking and looking. If he can't see anything up there, she's hoping he can't see the red rushing to her cheeks and chest, blush creeping up her neck. Her clothing tends to hide that.

    There's a grumble, very unladylike, but they're long past that today.

    "You shouldn't be looking down here, anyway."
    l933012000020002010004: (angry)

    Kafka | Honkai Star Rail | Skala

    [personal profile] l933012000020002010004 2024-08-22 06:05 am (UTC)(link)

    Arrival


    It had been a rather arduous trek through several miles of woods before Kafka managed to make her way to… wherever she was. She wasn’t quite used to civilization being so quaint, but on new planets she took what she could get.

    Of course, her mood was fucking terrible, so maybe it soured her perspective a little. Having to hop around on one leg, having to find a big stick, having to hobble her way miles, through dark woods, naked, it felt pretty understandable that she was already overstimulated by the time she arrives at town.

    She’s hovering around the stand near the center of the town marketplace, jaw flexing as she tries to ignore the cacophony of voices around her, and it’s clear she won’t be able to steal anything without several eyes noticing her. The nudity didn’t bother her a bit, but she would be remiss to walk around at night without something to keep her warm. “How am I supposed to pay?” she muses to herself, already lamenting the loss of her various credit cards.

    Feast


    She feels it before she sees it, the clunk of something locking around her ankle, and she peers down with a rather dour expression.

    “…You do know this is my prosthetic leg,” she says, deadpan, her brow quirking up at the person she was locked with- surely she could just. Pull it off. Surely.

    Dealer’s Choice


    [hi i am very old rancid peas about dreamwidth rp but i haven’t touched it in like a decade!! if you have an idea or something you can dm me or something uhh @ moorlin on plurk idk how to link it here. sorryyyyyy]

    [OH UH ALSO i play kafka with a missing right leg + normally a prosthetic but she gets stuck without it here at first… i have my reasonings if u want… Evidence… but yeah. she probably finds a woodworker who can make her a sloppy one just for walking for a bit until she can get something better yeah!!!]



    Edited 2024-08-22 07:37 (UTC)
    pharmacy: (125)

    [personal profile] pharmacy 2024-08-22 04:32 pm (UTC)(link)
    He's a little tipsy. A little! A little-plus. But Quentin is doing just fine in terms of behavior and coordination, at least until he drops his cup, and then before he knows it, someone is snapping a cuff around his wrist--and around the ankle of the person next to him. He lets off a compulsory fuck even before she explains the situation with her leg.

    On hearing about her leg, he winces as he looks up. "Jesus, seriously? Fuck. How are we gonna get blood out of--" Watch the realization dawn on him, like the sun. If he was less tipsy, he'd be less rude, but Quentin's hand immediately starts to trail up the prosthetic, looking for the break. "Oh shit, can you just take this off?"
    pharmacy: (159)

    [personal profile] pharmacy 2024-08-22 08:11 pm (UTC)(link)
    [ The door slams those last few inches closed just in time, and Quentin is quick with the shovel, wedging the blade into one corner of the door frame and the butt of the sturdy handle in another. Stomps it till the steel digs into the wood and-- ] Got it!

    [ His arm loops around her waist without a second thought, pulling Kirsty away from the door with him. The Szymanskiy triplets have been known to fuck with people's heads if you get too close. Maybe it's already fucked with his head, because it's probably safer for them to run, to find somewhere to hide--but he stops halfway back across the room. Holding onto her. Breathing hard. Watching the door. ]

    ...They'll go away. [ Whispered, surer than he actually is. The door bangs and rattles. ] Give it a second, they'll go away.
    gloomcore: (013)

    [personal profile] gloomcore 2024-08-22 08:36 pm (UTC)(link)
    [ His nostrils flare, corners of his mouth drawing tight. He cannot be here for nine fucking months. Jin Guangyao may not be the strongest cultivator in his cohort, but his abilities are nothing to sniff at either, and his means of investigation are unparalleled. It's astounding to think that he hasn't found a way to penetrate whatever magic is keeping them here.

    [ Of course, maybe he has. Maybe a break in the enchantment is why Jiang Cheng is here at all. He takes a deep, thoughtful breath. ]


    ...Whatever the forces that summoned us here, it's obvious that they're stronger than we can easily imagine. Perhaps now--together--we can face them directly. [ The cleverest and cruelest cultivators of their generation, what can stand against them? Jiang Cheng nods to punctuate that sentiment and introduce: ] But, because of the time between us...

    Lianfang-zun, I think we had better agree that you'll ask no more questions about what's to come. Maybe I've said too much already in speaking about A-Ling, but...we should be careful.
    destinysgrave: (🌟 you and me getting out)

    [personal profile] destinysgrave 2024-08-22 10:32 pm (UTC)(link)
    Stelle thinks that she herself is doing very well despite her social anxiety; hell, how often does she end up helping people get their bearings? She doesn't notice Jill fail to smile as she walks to her side, turns around, and carefully surveys the path she'd just come from.

    "It's nice to meet you. And yeah, I showed up just like you in the middle of the woods. I had to wander until I found my way here." She almost sounds proud, like it was an accomplishment. "And I'm starting to think," she says with a similar level of confidence, "That we might have to do the same thing here." She nods firmly. "I'm lost."
    clawandfang: (my mind's lost in bleak vision)

    [personal profile] clawandfang 2024-08-23 01:22 am (UTC)(link)
    The Beast half lopes and half stumbles through the woods, leaving a trail of spattered crimson and black ichor. His movements are clumsy and uncoordinated, breaths labored as he falls nearly upon his knees and then staggers back up with a furious snarl, casting fearful glances over his shoulder. Behind maddened gold eyes, Khoriya wrestles for control over his own body. Toward the river. Nothing else matters.

    When he breaks through the line of trees above the riverbank, the Beast turns again and there is a shrill, disbelieving whine to the edge of his voice, shadows spread like a writhing black sunburst beneath clawed feet.

    "How dare you, foul creature? Don't you know who I am? What I am? I am the Wolf who will Devour the-!" Biding his time, Khoriya waits for his chance to hurl them both over the edge.
    pharmacy: (083)

    A

    [personal profile] pharmacy 2024-08-23 01:25 am (UTC)(link)
    "No, but maybe at the front gates." He explains easily, as if they've been talking all night, when in reality he's just joining her at the table. He continues, turning over the contents of his bowl to get a good look at the various root vegetables swept up in the thick stew, "People tend to come in from the Void in waves. Y'know. A bunch at a time. I try to set aside a couple days a month to play welcoming committee."

    His eyes turn up to her, bright and attentive despite their dishwater blue and the dark swipes underneath. "I'm Quentin. I'm Void-touched too--not from around here."
    rosarianoath: (will you beg my forgiveness)

    [personal profile] rosarianoath 2024-08-23 01:40 am (UTC)(link)
    "Ought I hope the branches under my feet are sturdy enough before I step on them?" he shouts back, but this is silly, and he isn't going to argue with her further. His face feels hot, and he lifts his weight up on the balls of his feet to get a scarce few inches more height.

    He's going to have to jump. He pivots on the spot, turning himself to face away from the tree, and he crouches a little to gather strength in his thighs.

    "Watch yourself for when I come back down, Jill," he calls, and he leaps, gaining a scarce bit of air before he twists, mid-air, and sprouts fifteen foot dragon wings. Up above the treetops he goes, feeling ludicrously exposed –– not an odd sensation, given what he's fought in the air, and how shaky he is at flight –– but he need not linger long.
    clawandfang: (teeth ready for sinking)

    lock & key

    [personal profile] clawandfang 2024-08-23 01:47 am (UTC)(link)
    Eliot's new bondage buddy turns out to be... a tall, hulking wolfman with a green sash wrapped around his waist. Unlike many of the festivalgoers, he at least is fully dressed in crisp linen shirt and breeches, buttoned high from the top of his throat, a gap over the sternum to reveal furry chest and curse mark, and otherwise covered down to his ankles.

    Khoriya had been talking to a shopkeep when someone had looped something around his arm. When a casual tug had not dislodged the bit of rope, he turns to stare down upon the confused looking human beside him and the smiling Rubean patiently explaining the 'rules' to them both, wolfish expression set into cold, hard lines.

    ...Blood or key, is it? The look he casts Eliot is utterly flat, with a slight curl of black lip to reveal the glint of fangs.

    "Why bother? This won't take but a moment." It's clear that Khoriya is thinking about where best to take a bite right out of the human to resolve their little 'problem.'
    noburden: (pic#16759657)

    [personal profile] noburden 2024-08-23 02:44 am (UTC)(link)
    The things she'd do for clothing right now. Feeling all the more foolish for being irritated when naked. Jill sighs, arms tighter around herself as she keeps her eyes averted.

    She doesn't spare Bahamut's wings a glance as she moves herself away from where he might land. All she can do is hope he sees something.

    If not, it's going to be a very long walk.
    destinysgrave: (🌟 can't comprehend what's in store)

    [personal profile] destinysgrave 2024-08-23 03:17 am (UTC)(link)
    "I am the experts!" she shouts back like she has anything to stand on. It's a rough stumble before she gets to her feet, but with her weapon gone it's hard to figure out what exactly she's supposed to be fighting back with.

    She can't break free of the compulsion, and she'd probably be desperate to save somebody's life even if she weren't being magically compelled to do it. So charging back in, even with the crook of her neck sending fire up her vertebrae, is basically the only option.

    She scrambles for one of the shards of box that she'd broken, and though it's not as thick or sturdy as the club, it's better than nothing. She wraps both hands around one end of it and swings at the other side of this thing's head once she's close enough, but it's not enough and her weapon cracks down the middle.

    She swears under her breath, then jabs the broken piece of box into the skeletal beast's mouth to force its jaw open. "That won't hold," she says, her heart pumping and her voice frantic. "Get out already!"
    destinysgrave: (🌟 a timed ignition to spark a brawl)

    [personal profile] destinysgrave 2024-08-23 03:23 am (UTC)(link)
    Stelle nods, absorbing it more easily than maybe most people would, and it brings a quiet little smile to her face to be talked to like she already kind of belongs here. At least she's not totally lost, naked as a babe in the woods. Anymore.

    "I appreciate it," she says, scooping a chunk of potato inelegantly into her mouth. "My name's Stelle. I wasn't expecting everyone to be so kind, but if all this happens constantly, it probably makes sense." Just because it's brand new to her doesn't mean it's strange to the people around her.

    She tries to think of the best question to ask next, and settles on something that might help connect some dots. "What's the place you came from like? Is it anything like here?"
    rosarianoath: (silver clouds with grey linings)

    [personal profile] rosarianoath 2024-08-23 03:36 am (UTC)(link)
    Clive drops back down, wings vanishing in a whorl of light, and he falls the considerable distance and lands in a crouch so heavily that the ground trembles. He straightens up again, walking over to join her.

    "There's some sort of village that way." He gestures; the river was a good choice. "We can make it by nightfall if we hurry."
    decorative: (Sultry nibble)

    [personal profile] decorative 2024-08-23 04:31 am (UTC)(link)
    [The Chevalier watches as Astarion finally takes the cherry, visibly pleased that the plan is working, even if the Chevalier has a fairly decent idea that Astarion is on it himself. That won't stop the Chevalier from making a fun night out of it.]

    You are right. I go where the wind takes me. I cannot be tamed. But can you be?
    policier: 𝓭𝓷𝓽 (sixty one)

    [personal profile] policier 2024-08-23 02:20 pm (UTC)(link)
    ( So he is insolent — very well. Javert can certainly use that to his advantage if he's given the chance. He doesn't fear what this man might do, doesn't so much as flinch when Clive rushes toward him. Instead, he stands and takes the blow, grasping and clawing at his back, trying to gain some purchase in spite of the oil.

    He won't fight dishonorably, but there's no chance he might not fight somewhat bestial. )
    riffle: (pic#16664928)

    cw: cont,

    [personal profile] riffle 2024-08-23 07:58 pm (UTC)(link)
    [ It's not as though Aretuza or Ban Ard forbid such practices when employing new students under their banner. Such members of the Brotherhood would argue that they were destined for a short life otherwise. But the way Noth phrases it would indicate a different sort of practice (which she'd argue wouldn't have had a dissimilar outcome) ]

    You're free of that here, are you not? You can stay free.