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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?
    romanholliday: (hat!)

    [personal profile] romanholliday 2024-06-19 12:05 am (UTC)(link)
    [the rejection stings; Cesare might have caused her less pain, had he struck her. but he never would, because he is the brother who loves her.

    Lucrezia stares back at him in wounded confusion, though wounded pride quickly wins out. she turns her face out of his hand and steps backward, though she only succeeds in pressing herself up against the alley wall, insists in a watery snap,]
    I will not. [a broken-hearted sort of obstinance sets in.] You interrupted me in the middle of my conversation, and I'm not finished with my wine.
    nepotist: (pic#16719841)

    [personal profile] nepotist 2024-06-19 12:11 am (UTC)(link)
    You have had plenty of wine already, Sis... [Enough that she thinks her behavior is reasonable, and that she is justified in sulking like a child when it does not go her way. The furrow in his brow deepens.]

    I am not asking. We can talk in the dormitories.
    Edited 2024-06-19 00:11 (UTC)
    romanholliday: (pink like the inside of your 🫢)

    [personal profile] romanholliday 2024-06-19 12:29 am (UTC)(link)
    [Lucrezia does not want to go back to the dormitories. she wants to go back out into the city, reclaim her wine glass and some semblance of the good cheer and happiness she'd experienced before Cesare took it away from her. but she doesn't want to cause a scene, and so without a word she turns on her heel and walks off in the direction of the boarding house. she clearly expects him to follow her.]
    nepotist: (pic#16719788)

    [personal profile] nepotist 2024-06-19 12:33 am (UTC)(link)
    [He does. Eventually he leads her up to him and Sweeney's room, the perfect example of a bachelor pad if ever there was one. His side of the room is tidy and bare, and he sets about grabbing more pillows for the bed for Lucrezia, along with some sheets for the floor for himself.]

    When did you arrive?
    romanholliday: (gossiping)

    [personal profile] romanholliday 2024-06-19 12:53 am (UTC)(link)
    [well this is--not the Vatican. Lucrezia stands in the doorway and looks about the interior of Cesare's rooms with an odd look on her face--a mixture of her hurt from earlier, and dismay that her brother clearly intends to sleep on the floor--and so seems to miss what he says to her, at first. then she blinks, drops her eyes, and takes a few steps inside.]

    Last night, [she says simply and laces her hands together in front of her skirts. she sweeps her gaze back up to meet his, studying him.] When else could I have arrived? You ought to know very well where I was, the day before.
    nepotist: (pic#16739367)

    [personal profile] nepotist 2024-06-19 12:57 am (UTC)(link)
    I arrived here many months ago...almost a year. Time is different here. Many things are different here. [She will learn that the hard way, he is sure. He hates that. He turns to face her.]

    You have a mark on you. Where is it?
    romanholliday: (worried!!!)

    [personal profile] romanholliday 2024-06-19 01:06 am (UTC)(link)
    [she stops short at that, eyes widening in disbelief.] A year? That can't be--

    [an abrupt intake of breath, the colour draining from her face. she wavers unsteadily on her feet.] Giovanni. What about Giovanni?

    [(you might have to ask that question about the mark one more time, Cesare.)]
    nepotist: (pic#16739402)

    [personal profile] nepotist 2024-06-19 01:08 am (UTC)(link)
    [He shakes his head, thankful that Giovanni is far from this place.]

    It is just me here. Or it was. [He pulls the slightest of sheepish smiles and then takes a step towards her, looking over her for her curse mark.]

    Now your mark...
    romanholliday: (a sweet girl)

    [personal profile] romanholliday 2024-06-19 01:22 am (UTC)(link)
    [her heart gives a traitorous stutter when he looks her over like that. Lucrezia looks down and away from that smile, even if she feels an answering one flickering at the corners of her mouth. then she looks up again, abruptly, at that question.]

    It is on my leg. Do you want to see it, brother?

    [spoiler alert, she knows you do, etc.]
    nepotist: (pic#16719792)

    [personal profile] nepotist 2024-06-19 01:27 am (UTC)(link)
    [A nod.]I do. [He plays the answer straight, ignores any attempt at innuendo entirely. They are family, after all. It his duty to protect her.] In this world, those marks have many implications. It marks where you stand in this society.
    romanholliday: (spicy)

    [personal profile] romanholliday 2024-06-19 01:32 am (UTC)(link)
    [the absolute gall of him, to act as though nothing has happened between them. Lucrezia stares back at him with two blue eyes that might as well be incendiary devices for the wounded outrage they project. then, wordless, she hitches up her skirts and exposes one white thigh for his scrutiny.

    quite a lot of thigh, in fact. the skala curse mark lives well above where a garter might cleave to her.]


    There. [flat, before she drops her skirts and folds her arms across her chest. her voice wavers.] Are you satisfied, now that you have inspected me like a broodmare on her way to auction once again?
    nepotist: (pic#16719774)

    [personal profile] nepotist 2024-06-19 01:40 am (UTC)(link)
    [A sad smile pulls on to his lips as he spots the mark. He ignores her sulking and instead unbuckles his own britches, tugging down the right side as best he can to reveal his own curse mark, the same mark in almost the exact same position.]

    Not a broadmare. A skala. [Perhaps it is inherited. He feels some bitter fondness when he considers it.]
    romanholliday: (gossiping)

    [personal profile] romanholliday 2024-06-19 01:56 am (UTC)(link)
    [that unsettling parallel draws her out of her sour mood for a moment. Lucrezia stares at the mark on Cesare's leg and slowly allows herself to sink down onto the edge of his bed, her brows drawn together into a frown.]

    Supposedly we all have them, as I understand it, [she hedges uncertainly, fingers twisting together in her lap.] Nobody's treated me badly for it yet, if that's what you're worried about.
    nepotist: (pic#16719837)

    [personal profile] nepotist 2024-06-19 02:03 am (UTC)(link)
    No. [He immediately moves to sit beside her and strokes her hair, presses his face to hers.]

    There are obligations here. If we do not fulfill them, our mark comes into play....There is a beast within you, one that is similar to mine. I have attempted to tame it in the past, to varying success. [He is candid with her when with most he would be guarded. He owes her all the information he has. It is the least he can do.]
    romanholliday: (they're very close 👀)

    [personal profile] romanholliday 2024-06-19 02:38 am (UTC)(link)
    [she bends reed-like towards him and into his arms because doing so has always felt as natural as breathing. the intimacy between them had always been easy and warm even when everything else around them has gone pear-shaped. Lucrezia closes her eyes and curls her fingers into the front of his shirt; she brushes her nose against his.]

    I imagine you're not speaking metaphorically, [she says quietly while fiddling with the laces on his shirt. she twists it absently around her fingers.] Tell me about these obligations, then. What am I expected to do?
    nepotist: (pic#16739372)

    [personal profile] nepotist 2024-06-19 12:56 pm (UTC)(link)
    [He swallows and sighs, distracting himself by tracing shapes into her palm with his fingertips.]

    Violence...or lust. Those quell the beast. If you experience pain, that draws it out. You will learn more in time.
    romanholliday: (a sweet girl)

    [personal profile] romanholliday 2024-06-19 04:26 pm (UTC)(link)
    [her fingers curl delicately around his wrist, slipping up towards his forearm. always her touch upon him has been familiar, but this, and the way she leans just that fraction closer to touch her lips against the corner of his mouth, speaks to a very different degree of familiar intimacy. like this is something she has done before. that he has done before, with her.]

    Will you teach me, brother?
    nepotist: (pic#16719832)

    [personal profile] nepotist 2024-06-19 11:02 pm (UTC)(link)
    [He pulls back and frowns again.] No. Not like that. [He looks at her sadly, hurt by her words and her suggestions.]

    Sis...what has come over you? [He tries to hide the fact that his heart is pounding so hard that he can barely hear her over the blood in his ears.]
    romanholliday: (spicy)

    [personal profile] romanholliday 2024-06-19 11:15 pm (UTC)(link)
    [shame burns her up from the inside when he spurns her again, and it is a spark lighting the fuse of her temper. Lucrezia pulls her hands back from Cesare and immediately rises to her feet, takes two steps towards the door as though intending to yank it open and leave, then changes her mind. she whips back around to face him instead, fuming.]

    What's come over me? What's come over you? This--[she doesn't sputter, because sputtering is unladylike, and she is a lady,]--performance of concern for my virtue after the deed has already been done surely can't be for my benefit.
    nepotist: (pic#16719830)

    [personal profile] nepotist 2024-06-19 11:19 pm (UTC)(link)
    [Understanding dawns on him and he stands in return, trying to help her understand in return, trying to be a good brother.]

    This town...it plays tricks on it. It engulfs us in other worlds that are not our own, makes us believe things that are not true. Whatever you believe has happened, I assure you I have not. I would not. [The final sentence, he chokes out a little, despite himself. It's true, right? I thinks so?]
    romanholliday: (spicy)

    [personal profile] romanholliday 2024-06-19 11:30 pm (UTC)(link)
    You have. You have already done it. [she steps back into his space and reaches up to cradle his face with both hands, but her expression is anything but gentle.] On my wedding night, my husband would not have me. But you would, and you did. You did, brother, [insisting firmly, lest he interrupt,] unless you wish to call me a liar.
    nepotist: (😧)

    [personal profile] nepotist 2024-06-19 11:39 pm (UTC)(link)
    [A correction, a new realization that is crueler than the previous one. Just maybe his future self has hurt Lucrezia so immeasurably. Doubt and confusion floods his features. Would he? How could it reach that point? She played games with him, yes, but he cares for her. He should not cause so much damage because he is indulgent and selfish.]

    I left for France, before your wedding, and I found myself here. I was not there on your wedding night. [So what monster was?]
    romanholliday: (pink like the inside of your 🫢)

    [personal profile] romanholliday 2024-06-19 11:56 pm (UTC)(link)
    [she pulls her hands back from his face, frowning.]

    Then you think I am a liar, [wounded,] or you believe I would not recognize you out of all men in God's creation.
    nepotist: (pic#16739396)

    [personal profile] nepotist 2024-06-19 11:59 pm (UTC)(link)
    No...[He takes her hands in his, squeezing them, and presses their foreheads together.]

    We are all from different worlds, different times. I know men who are hundreds of years in the future or the past (mostly the future, but that's neither here nor there). Perhaps a month or so separates us...do you understand? [Please understand, Sis.]