rubimemes | SPRING TEST DRIVE MEME

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SPRING 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: murder, bondage, sensory deprivation, aphro, coercion, waxplay, whips, free use, and orgiastic behavior.

If you have QUESTIONS about the test drive prompts, please ask HERE. Questions about the game itself or the general setting should be directed to the FAQ.

FAQ ✧ SETTING ✧ CALENDAR ✧ RESERVES ✧ APPLICATIONS

SPRING TEST DRIVE MEME

TDMs in Rubi are posted every quarter at the beginning of the season. As such, this TDM is open until the next TDM is posted in July.

Feel free to post on this TDM until the Summer TDM goes up. Please check the Calendar (linked above) for more information on precise dates.

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 dewy mosses and ferns, upon cold soil and feeling 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 to cast a suspicious eye upon this new creature appeared in the woods. With your feet under you, you'll find the wood is filled with berry bushes and nut trees. The freshwater stream that runs north-south, populated by both poisonous toads and delicious crawdads, is running actively again as the weather warms into full spring bloom, a hint of humidity in the air.

As you explore, you may encounter caches of clothing left in painted crates or placed in hollow tree trunks. They contain loose shirts and trousers, perhaps even a moth-eaten coat, along with a note that includes a bare-bones explanation for your arrival and a sketched map toward town. You may also 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 a couple thousand has cobbled streets and signs lit by gas lamps. 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. However, there's a stressed, ramshackle air about the town – multiple buildings in varying stages of disarray or construction, charred edges to wooden walls, as if some local disaster had taken place a few months back, and the townsfolk are still picking up in the aftermath.

When you enter, the streets are full of busy people bustling about, 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.

SETTING: CRIME

Fortunately, the most of the townspeople 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! Once inside, you may notice patchwork repairs have been made, some scorch marks still linger from a fire about a year back, and the place seems somewhat in disrepair

Tonight, a few of the townspeople will help out with the new arrivals. They stock the kitchen and prepare a communal dinner: a thin stew 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. The town has recently been brought back from the brink of a terrible calamity, newcomers are told, and everyone is doing their part now to restore it to its former glory.

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!

SPRINGTIDE FESTIVAL

The flowers are blooming, the birds are chirping, and what better way to ring in spring than with sweet blood sacrifice in its honor?

All around town, somewhat macabre decorations have been arranged... with a floral, spring-like twist. Animal skulls adorned with painted red-and-pink flowers hang from doorfronts, streaming flowing trails of woven ribbons and ivy. Garlands of dyed eggs are strung from lamp post to lamp post. Stalls line the streets, offering intricately worked leather masks for festival goers along with decorative bits of neckwear strangely reminiscent of a hangman's noose. In addition to satisfying the needs of the curse marks that afflict the townspeople, the overarching theme of the festival seems to be a celebration of communal endurance and defiance of death.

FAQ: CURSE MARKS

Festival Entertainment includes, but isn't limited to:

A wrestling ring in which naked, oiled up combatants are also offered a choice of weapon from a wooden mallet to brass knuckles to a tiny knife barely the length of a pinky. Nothing that's likely to kill anyone outright, of course, just enough to spice up the competition a bit.
Various competitions of endurance upon the stage, from lying perfectly still as hot wax is dripped over one's naked body to a whipping game where the first to yelp loses, and another where prone volunteers have clamps affixed to nipples and genitals, with increasingly heavy weights attached. Losers are hung upside down for communal use, thighs spread and notched for every person who partakes... but all in good fun and the spirit of shared pleasure.
A version of blind man's bluff where several kneeling participants are blindfolded and their wrists and ankles hobbled with a knotted length of rope. The first to crawl up to one of the circle of onlookers and bring them to orgasm is deemed the victor and may leave the ring, while the losers may be expected to play another round… and another… until they've succeeded in claiming their own victory.
A crude public shower and sauna have been set up to rinse off and relax after festival fun. Be careful to stay hydrated, because the temperature inside the sauna is steaming hot. Cups of cold tea are served to all in the sauna, leaving a refreshing tingle in your extremities... and an urge to put your mouth to use upon another person's body.

Almost all of the food and drink present are dosed with the Rubean's usual blend of stimulating aphrodisiac herbs, so common in their cooking as to be totally unremarkable – and not something they would warn anyone about before partaking. And of course, there is the ever-present orgy in the background, taking on a bestial, animalistic edge as festival-goers revel in pain and pleasure alike.

For every shared carnal experience during the Springtide Festival, partners will leave matching marks upon each other – a shared bloody 'X' carved on the left shoulder, a bruised imprint of teeth on the right buttock. These wounds are proudly displayed for all to see, with those who've accumulated many marks being treated like rockstars, adulation and cheers following in their wake, toasts raised in their presence, and people eager to approach and further add to their collection.

And of course, those who bear few-to-no marks are all the more likely to be propositioned by fellow Rubeans, and looked askance if they refuse. Everyone is expected to share in the springtime spirit, after all.

As a general rule, the Rubeans attitude toward the strangers among them, also known as Void-touched, is one of welcome, generosity, and social pressure bearing from gentle encouragement to actively overbearing, with an emphasis on conformity. Now that you're here, of course you'll want to start contributing and acting like a proper member of the community! But beware, for not all of the villagers are open and welcoming to the new Void-touched. Some, known as the Zlatniki, resent the presence of newcomers who don't respect their ways, don't offer proper worship to their Goddess, who flaunt their outsider status and lead members of their community astray. These villagers may resort to trickery, coercion, or even violence to ensure compliance.

WRITER'S BLOCK?

Join a competition on purpose to prove your endurance, or alternately find yourself 'helpfully' shoved into line to go up on stage. Find yourself dodging grabby villagers or swoop in to save someone else from being propositioned. Share awkward eye contact or a cup of tea in the sauna.

VESENYA LOVTI, THE SPRING HUNT

At some point, in the bath, while you undress, or even during the throes of passion, you might find the name of a stranger written somewhere upon your skin.

At some point, you might catch a glimpse of an act of wanton, inexplicable murder. A laundress toppling over with an arrow jutting out of her eye as her fellow washerwomen yelp and hurry to make sure she doesn't fall into the well. A farmer enjoying a pint in the tavern, only to fall out of his chair, coughing up bloodied bits of metal shrapnel while the barkeep looks on with a smile. In the aftermath, a shadowy figure skitters down the rooftops and rips a silver locket from around the laundress' neck, and the barkeep casually cuts the farmer's ear from his head. While most onlookers seem only mildly put out by the inconvenience, some even cheer or egg on the murderer.

At some point, you might hear someone asking around. Does anyone know who this is? With your name upon their lips.

If you ask around, you'll learn of Vesenya Lovti, the Spring Hunt and an annual cultural tradition among the Rubeans. For those not in the know, during Vesenya Lovti, a name of a fellow community member will appear somewhere on each Rubean and Void-touched's body. The Duchess has decreed that the goal over the month's standard festival revelry is to kill that person before getting killed yourself, and a trophy must be taken by the killer from their intended victim and cast into the festival bier in sacrifice. Worry not, for their benevolent Goddess will resurrect all who are killed just in time to catch the festival's closing ceremonies. And of course you'll be participating, right? Wouldn't want to disrespect your generous hosts' local customs, after all...

WRITER'S BLOCK?

Murder and be murdered. :') Or do your best to avoid both. Save a stranger from a knife attack, or whisper a warning into someone's ear about the poison lacing their meal. Ask around to find out about your target (feel free to make up NPCs), while trying to stay discreet. But be careful. Interfering too much in someone else's hunt or being too outspoken about 'barbaric practices' might earn you a trip to the stocks, at least until you've learned to be a little more open-minded about traditions that bring the whole community together.

THE FATHOMLESS DARK

At the outer edges of the forest, shadows grow long and the air grows thick. Though the sun never grows warm red-gold with sunset, the wood darkens. Birdsong is replaced by the click of mandibles and the skitter of many legs. Anyone who ventures out this way will soon find it difficult to see before them, even in the middle of the day – eventually, even the brightest magical light source or darkvision cannot stretch further than a few inches.

In the void, the air feels heavy, as if it were not air at all but some more solid mass. Almost like liquid-smoke, it presses down upon you. Slowing your movements. Characters who push too far into the void may stop being able to move at all, and find themselves given over to insanity if they collapse, unable to draw themselves out. This is just one of many dangers.

Monsters thrive this far out. Huge, blood-red spiders the size of hunting dogs drop from the treetops. In addition to their venomous bite, which contains a fast-acting paralytic, these creatures are clever: they attempt to use their webbing to entangle any trespassers, binding limbs together or to trees. If you're unfortunate to become fully cocooned, you don't have long before this forest will be the last thing you see.

In addition to the spiders, you may come across the sharp-toothed furred yetis that emerged during the snowstorm, still looking for a meal. Each one hunts alone, a fifteen-foot-tall shambling creature that drips black ooze and super-chills the air around it until your skin feels tight and icy. If it gets the drop on you, you're likely to be its dinner. It has emerged from a long summer hibernation to enjoy the colder weather, and it's starving.

FAQ: DEATH RULES

Those who seem lucky enough not to run afoul of the monsters here are in for a worse fate. The void can play tricks on your senses. As madness sets in and you lose all sense of direction, you may also lose control of your body – what is that steers your hands to turn against your friends? Why does it sound like your own voice whispering?

In the fog, you may also hear the voices of those familiar to you – people you know from the town, or people whom you know with almost perfect certainty aren't here. these figments may recreate unhappy memories or force trespassers to hallucinate their worst nightmares. Nothing is as it seems in the void, and when you swing at these figments, desperate to silence them, it might not be a figment at all, but a friend in the flesh trying to help you. By the time you see their true face, it could be too late to stop yourself.

writer's block?

If you're struggling to pick a way to engage the prompts, try fighting a monster, hallucinating your worst nightmares, and/or attacking a friend or stranger!

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.

FAQ: MONSTER CURSES & TIMELINES

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

Abram, the potter, narrowly survives a poisoning attempt during the spring hunt, but the stress of it has sent him over the edge. The salamander shape of his inner beast – duchozweirz, the natives call it – rampages through the stalls of the festival, leaving a trail of char and ruin in its wake and spitting molten rock at those who might attempt to quell him.

(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?

RULES: CONTENT WARNINGS

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The fact that Percy isn't here alone is something of a relief - one he doesn't feel the least guilt about, since the twins would be stuck in this place whether or not he'd stumbled out of the woods as well. When it comes to actually being in Vex's presence, however, he finds himself more agonized than anything. It's a pleasure to be near her, as it always is, but he knows so little about her time here - and when it comes to the time they spent together at home, he can tell her even less. Every conversation feels like a careful balance of expressing his friendship without letting slip about his love.

But he's done well enough that she's invited him to see her house, at least. (It's hard not to think of the keep, and to wonder whether an invitation to stay might be forthcoming - but the nature of the town makes that all the more complicated. As long as they live apart, he doesn't have to wake up to breakfast with whatever lovers she might have taken the night before.) And as he approaches the gatehouse this morning, he doesn't try to hide the way his face lights up at the sight of her.

She's taken to this place, in the time she's been here; he can't help but notice how the local fashions look on her. (Beautiful. She is, as always, stunning.) He's in better sorts than on that first endless walk, too: Besides finding a pair of spectacles and a walking stick, he's acquired some fine linen trousers and a handful of vibrantly embroidered shirts. It's impossible not to feel half-dressed without a well-tailored coat, but at least he's wearing something besides Vex's cape - and he's well-rested as he comes up to her, no longer moving like every muscle in his body aches.

"I managed at the boarding house," he answers, giving her a small smile. I'm weaker than you remember, but I'm not quite that badly off. "Unless we're climbing a mountain, I'll be fine."

"Nothing so arduous," Vex assures him, her smile lighting up her face. For all of her mixed feelings, actually having Percy here—

She wants him to be here, which is terrible of her really. She shouldn't want anyone to be subjected to all of this. Least of all someone she cares for. But she enjoys being in his company. It's a fault in her; deep down, she's become attached.

Pushing those thoughts down, she levers herself away from the wall itself and saunters to the gatehouse door. Unlocking it, she opens it to reveal a narrow entry way leading almost immediately to stairs up to the next level. There's not much on the ground floor but a bit of storage and coat hooks, thanks to the house's weird architecture.

"Well, in that case... let's show you around. I'll give you the grand tour."

"I'd love that," Percy says, because he would. The entire house has a touch of the eccentric to it, at least from the outside; who wouldn't be curious about the interior? And the whole thing is mercifully narrow, far smaller than either the keep or the castle. He's unlikely to receive an invitation to join them, if space is at a premium - and if that's the case, he needn't feel hurt by that fact.

At some point, maybe he'll even be so lucky as to stop thinking about that distance between them: the physical, the emotional, the temporal.

While he's not too unsteady on the stairs, he is slower than usual. As he climbs doggedly to the next floor, he asks, "How long have you lived here?"

"Not long at all. A couple of weeks—we barely got the the old furniture out when you arrived," Vex brightens with the topic. Despite everything, she's proud of her house. If only because it's hers.

She pushes aside the tug of guilt in her breast, as though she'd given up on going home by making a place for herself here.

She refuses to be drawn into that line of thinking now.

"It's still a work in progress," she warns him. At the top of the stairs, he'll find a water closet style bathroom, and then turning, an open great room on the second floor. There's a kitchen along one wall, space for dining and living. She's managed to get in a couch and dining table.

And very little else.

Stairs lead up to the next story, suggesting more to see.

"Enough space to entertain, once things are cleaner and we get the stove addressed."

It's a small space, and a mostly empty one, but there's enough there to see what it could become. Vax sprawled out on the couch, sharpening his knives, while Vex fletches arrows at the table. Candlelight and lively conversations, games of cards and mediocre cooking.

"It's very cozy." It might be bare-bones right now, but it's the skeleton of a comfortable life - one that allows for the possibility that six months in this place won't be the end of her time here. At the same time, nothing about it is so singularly nice that she couldn't leave for Tal'Dorei without hesitation. Taking a few slow steps over to a window, he looks it over, running a hand along the seam where the frame meets the wall, squinting at the mullions. "And it's well made - this won't let the cold in, if we're still here by winter."

Possibly the highest compliment he possesses, under the circumstances: You've identified good craftsmanship. He resists the desire to move toward the next flight of steps. If she wants to show off the bedrooms, she'll lead on.

"The previous owner was an old man who let things go for some time before finally moving in with his family. There's been some work to do—especially with the roof," Vex puts particular emphasis on that last word, as though it's been a problem for her in particular.

What does she know about roofing?

"But we got it for more or less nothing. Helping him move the shit he wanted to take out and getting rid of the rest."

Percy knows her well enough to understand how much cheap would be a motivating factor.

"And since we're on the wall, we have windows facing both in and out of town. Always good to be able to make a quick exit."

He grins at that, glancing up at the ceiling as though he might be able to divine the issues she's been having. Holes, presumably, and if it's been a rainy spring, that can't have been pleasant to discover.

"And a quick entrance." He remembers what she'd mentioned on that long walk into town, about the Void collapsing in on the surrounding area. In an emergency, every bit of energy saved is worthwhile. Besides that - city walls exist for reasons, generally, and while this places her on the front lines, it does mean she'll have early warning of any issues. She could fight from the windows, if she had to. "Even by your standards, this is an impressive deal."

The sort that makes him want to put an arm around her and lay a kiss at the corner of her mouth. Putting it out of his mind, he stays where he is, casting about for the sort of polite small talk that people make about interior decor. "Tell me if you need anything purpose-built. I've found a blacksmith willing to take me on as his errand boy until I've regained a bit more of my strength."

There's a bit of humor to the way he says that; the notion of sweeping up scraps and fetching tools is so far beneath his skill level that there's a sort of novelty to it at this point.

"I do my best. Of course, the fact that they don't use money does change the math a little." Not that there's not still space to bargain, but—well, Vex likes money. It offers a kind of security that barter doesn't.

She shrugs it off, though, smiling in response to his news.

A blacksmith's errand boy, huh?

"Most overqualified errand boy in history," she comments. "But I'll be sure to take advantage of you to the fullest."

She winks as she says it, the sort of playful flirting she might have done back home. It's a natural rhythm to fall back into.

And it's too late to take it back when she realizes the position it puts him in.

She clears her throat, pushing on rather than draw more attention to it.

"I'm sure before long you'll have taken over the forge."

It's sadness that crosses his face first, a soft-eyed melancholy at the thought of Vex taking advantage of him. If only - but she moves on immediately, and he does, too. His cheeks going slightly pink, he shrugs.

"If I'm here long enough, I'll hang out a shingle." Ideally, that won't be the case, but Vex and Vax's examples suggest that he's going to need to consider the worst-case possibilities here. "I might end up shoeing horses all day, but I'll be able to make whatever I like on the evenings."

As he speaks, he comes back over to her side, stopping just before he normally would. Close enough to touch, not so close that touching is inevitable. And whatever else might be true of his gait, he's at least become comfortable enough with the cane that each step is fairly natural at this point. Once he's built up more stamina, he'll be a force to be reckoned with.

Vex pushes a stray lock of hair back behind her ear, and tells herself it's wishful thinking that Percy seemed interested briefly. It's clearly not where his expression settle. She tries not to read pity into his expression.

That's not like him.

But she does imagine it's not unlike him to find this whole situation awkward. At some point, he'll need to find somewhat to take advantage of, or vice versa, and that's not really his way. Beneath him.

"My room is upstairs," she says, half offering to show him and half giving him an excuse to miss that part of the tour. "Vax is in the attic."

He'll take the opportunity that's given him, under the circumstances, assuming that mentioning upstairs is a prelude to actually visiting. And there's something reassuring, truthfully, about feeling welcome in her private quarters. They're good enough friends that that isn't weird, right? It's normal to want to see where your friend sleeps when she's giving you a tour of her home.

Which is why he starts moving toward the stairs, and if this backfires on him, he's going to be mortified.

"Of course he is." There's fondness there, at the thought of Vax up as high as he can possibly get. The Matron of Ravens chose well, inasmuch as she chose at all. "Have you decided how you'd like to do up your room?"

It doesn't take all that much encouragement for Vex to show off for him. It's easy to justify, honestly—she's done a good deal of work here, and she's proud of what she's made for herself.

There doesn't have to be any ulterior motive.

She starts up the stairs, pausing half way to let Percy catch up and make sure he doesn't need assistance.

"Not entirely. But I've gotten rid of the old bed, and gotten a fresh coat of paint on the walls." She doesn't mention the fact that her bed was removed quite violently by Vex's girlfriend, who happened to be a werewolf. That feels awkward to mention. She'll... introduce them later. But that can be a problem for later Vex. "New bed pending, but I've slept on worse than the floor in the meantime."

He follows along, slow but steady, and laughs a little. "I think we all have."

In the back of his mind, he's already thinking through how he'd build a bed, given the opportunity - iron, he supposes, since his carpentry skills would provide something halfway competent and not much more. Whether he'd be able to get enough metal to manage it remains to be seen, but it couldn't be that complicated to make it himself.

"Well, whatever you do with it, I'm sure it'll be magnificent when you're through." It's hard not to let affection color the words; more might slip through than strictly ought to. "And much more private than the boarding house. I must admit I'm envious."

"Do you have a roommate then?" Vex asks, feigning indifference to hide her curiosity.

She's sure it's better not to pry into who Percy is sleeping next to, considering that's a slippery slope in the direction of who he's sleeping with.

And Vex knows she has no right to get jealous on that count. Not when she has more than one lover herself.

Pushing the thought away, she mounts the rest of the steps. At the top, a landing leads on one hand to another, steeper staircase up to Vax's attic, and on the other to one door, and her bedroom on the other side.

She doesn't hesitate to open that, ushering Percy into a wide room, also with windows on two sides to let in natural light. The walls are freshly painted white and the floor has been recently scrubbed. Some of the boards still creak, but difficult to expect otherwise in an older house. Especially one so oddly constructed.

"What do you think?"

"Unfortunately." Percy sighs. "He's not a bad sort, but I've lost the taste for bunking with strangers - and he has a habit of bringing people back to the room without warning."

That seems to be the way of things around here - in a few weeks' time, he's witnessed more public sex than in an his years before - but there's not much of a respite when his bedroom isn't his alone.

But that's neither here nor there, once he reaches the head of the stairs. The room is bare, but it's bright, and Vex will have it fixed up in no time. There's enough space for a bit of furniture besides a bed, even - he can imagine a small desk in front of one of the windows, perhaps a bookcase. And then he realizes he's envisioning the decor he'd select for a space they'd share, and he makes himself stop.

It takes him a moment to answer her question, looking for a reply that doesn't feel either overly enthusiastic or damning with faint praise, but the smile he wears as he looks around might be an answer in itself. "It's wonderful, Vex. You've really chosen well."

It would be shameful how much his approval warms her heart, if she cared to acknowledge it. Which of course she doesn't.

Instead, Vex chuckles ruefully, sympathetic to her teammate's plight.

"Among the reasons I had to find a new place. Sharing a room with my brother..." Vex trails off, then shrugs. "I think both of us could use at least a little extra privacy. Though neither of us developed a habit for bringing people back to our own room."

For the obvious reason.

"You know," she adds then, shifting the attention away from whoever has been in her own bed. "He's quite besotted here. Practically glowing. It's disgusting."

She says it fondly.

That gets Percy's attention, brows rising. "Really? But -"

But what about Keyleth? likely becomes an irrelevant question after a year and a half away, forced to murder or fuck his way through scores of other captives. It's too naive a sentiment to give voice to, though it does leave an inscrutable loneliness in him. Keyleth might well be his best friend; he doesn't like the thought of her losing pride of place in Vax's heart. More than that, though, if one twin has found happiness here...

...Then it's none of your business, de Rolo. He swallows, trying not to look stricken, trying to affect some of the same warmth as Vex clearly feels. A moment later, he finishes lamely, "I didn't realize there was much room for romance, under the circumstances."

"I'm not sure I'd call Khoriya romantic." Vex speaks with a touch of skeptical fondness. She actually might call him that, under very specific circumstances, but there would be too much to explain to get there now.

She shakes her head a little, though.

If Percy will be here, she's entitled to a bit of gossip.

"I don't know that I'd say that, though. With all of the fucking and high stress situations, people seem to catch feelings rather often. And often, drama follows." Vex has observed some of that drama herself, safely second hand. "It might not be traditionally romantic, but they're feelings all the same."

"Ah." That clarifies...nothing, exactly, but he can understand it to some extent. In dangerous circumstances, you've got little choice but to trust the people around you. He leans against one of the window sills, letting the sunshine hit his back through the glass; it's a sneaky moment of rest, one he hopes looks casual. "You'll have to introduce me to Khoriya - I'd love to see just who's captured your brother's heart here."

Or Vax can, of course, but he's still not quite sure where they stand. Certainly the relationship doesn't seem to have gotten worse in the months Vax has lived past him, but Percy hasn't yet found a way to make himself comfortable in the man's presence again. With Vex, at least, he might be a little heartsick, but he knows the time she left behind.

"He can be rather standoffish at first, but very worth meeting." Vex smiles, a sly sort of smile that Percy might be in a position to recognize.

She's amused.

It's very likely this is someone she teases.

Whether or not it's intelligent to do so.

"There's quite a bit to explain there, but some of it will be easier after you meet him," she says rather than elaborate too much. "He's been a good companion exploring the mountains. No replacement for Trinket, but still someone worth having at your side on a hunting trip."

"Not quite so hairy, I'd imagine," Percy replies, for the moment matching Vex's tone without issue. It's not hard to feel genuine gladness in a moment like this. She must miss Trinket terribly, after all, and anyone who's been a friend to her has Percy's gratitude. "I'm happy to hear the two of you haven't been alone."

Either in the friend department or the more-than-a-friend department, in Vax's case. He's tempted to say more, to ask the inevitable follow-up question, but he hasn't quite summoned the guts to hear the answer.

"You might be surprised," Vex says, tucking her chin. Her smile doesn't waver. "Khoriya is one of the few people here who isn't human, though his world isn't exactly like ours. He's a sort of... well, he's a wolf man. They call themselves worgs but not quite what she'd consider as much."

On the other hand, elves in his world aren't exactly like elves in their own. Still, the concept is far from unprecedented. Really he wouldn't have attracted that much attention if he'd shown up in a tavern in Emon.

"He is, in fact, quite furry."

"Oh." His first thought is so much the better. The sheer number of humans here has yet to stop feeling strange and a bit unpleasant to Percy; there's something about the monotony there that's a little unsettling, though he hasn't been able to quite put his finger on why. "I'm surprised I haven't noticed him around, then."

Near misses, nothing that rises advice the matter of filling the silence with chatter. He realizes he's run out of things to say about Vax's new paramour; everything else he could ask feels like prying, or like he'd be better off directing the question to Vax himself. Not that he's above a bit of prying, of course, but in the moment, when his presence here is that of a guest, he thinks he'd better not.

It feels masochistic to press the subject further but cowardly to avoid it - and if he does avoid it, he's going to be eaten up with wondering. Clearing his throat a bit awkwardly, Percy forces his own hand. "And have, er, have you found someone like that?"

God, does he hope not. But if she has, he should know sooner rather than later. It might save him the indignity of confessing feelings she no longer shares. It'll definitely save him the misery of staying up all night, trying to game out every possibility.

Vex's smile falters at the question and her ears visibly seem to droop in response. She's dreaded this. She has no reason to dread it. If some part of her feels unfaithful to him, then that part of her is—misguided.

Percy has already made that clear.

She's not his, and there's no commitment for her to betray.

She quashes the guilt before it can rise all the way to her face, doing her best to recall her earlier humor.

"Darling, have I ever struck you as the sort to become besotted?" Her tone makes it clear she's above that kind of vulnerability.

Still, he deserves to know.

She doesn't want it to be a surprise. Or more of a surprise.

"I do have two relationships," she admits then, picking a more or less neutral word. "And I'd say they're both very satisfying, but we're not exchanging vows. It's... this may not be difficult place for romance, but it is a difficult place for monogamy."

He's an imbecile, and this is why: He asked a question without considering, really considering, whether he could he take every possible answer. Some part of him had thought that six months couldn't be long enough to find herself all that entwined with anyone. Some part of him had hoped that she'd gone on some kind of murderous rampage instead of entertaining the possibility of sex. All of him was an idiot, and now it feels like Grog's stomping his chest flat.

"Oh," he says again, and that's all he can manage for a moment or two. There's no room to reason his way out of the moment, or to school his face away from surprise and surprise. He's too busy swallowing down betrayal and a vague sense of doom on the horizon. It's a long, strange moment of anguish, his limbs frozen in place - or it feels that way to him, anyway. It might have only been a second or two. He's not actually sure.

But it ends - everything ends eventually - and his thoughts begin to fire again. Rapidly, determinedly: You weren't here. You had no claim on her anyway. Don't be an arsehole about this, if you love her you won't be an arsehole.

"Well. Yes, I suppose that makes sense." And that's another thing, he can't demand fidelity of a woman who's never kissed him, on a plane that seems to revolve around fucking as many different people as possible. He puts on the brightest tone he can, straightening up from where he's been half-seated. "I suppose congratulations are in order, especially now that you've got a bit more, er, space to yourself. It really is a very fine home."

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