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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
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!)
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
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?
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?
no subject
He touches her cheek, the backs of his fingers a whisper against her skin. It's not as simple as debauching themselves and moving on, he's certain of that, but it's starting to look less impossible. His blood's threatening to pound harder in his chest, faint color riding to his cheeks. "I think that approach might make all of this a lot more complicated. Are you...that is, can you live with that? Knowing what you do about my feelings?"
Do I have to pretend I don't love you in order for this to work? Because even if the idea of any of this working feels like a long shot, it's guaranteed to fail if the answer is yes.
no subject
She forges ahead, because she's started now and he deserves a fuller answer than that. "You asked what I want, and that's what I want. That doesn't make it realistic. A lot of wants aren't."
Vex would say it's one of the reasons she doesn't get everything she wants, or even most of the things she wants.
"I suppose it depends. I wouldn't say that it's impossible. But obviously—there would be concerns. For example, if you thought you would have problems with jealousy... But it does feel unrealistic for us to simply pretend there's no attraction there."
no subject
This is a competition he's already lost, because the only way to win is to accept that he's one of several to share her heart. From this vantage point, it feels impossible.
"I..." he begins, but there's nothing he can follow with that isn't absurdly optimistic or an outright lie. "I don't know. It would all be significantly easier if I could promise you that it would all be fine, but I would have mentioned it the day I came if I truly believed that."
A pause, and something in his expression flattens slightly, trying to create a neutrality he doesn't feel. "Do you think jealousy would only be a problem for me? Are you...the idea of my seeing other people doesn't bother you?"
no subject
Which is easy to say because it's true, because as far as she's concerned he's a longing, a impulse in her heart that she's yet to act on in any way or shape beyond broad flirting.
It also doesn't answer the question, and she knows that just as well as he will.
But how else is Vex to answer?
She pulls away, shrugging palms up in frustration.
"How can I know how big of a part of your life I'll feel entitled to when I haven't had any of it?" She licks her lips and shakes her head helplessly. "I've had to share here."
But she hasn't had to share Percy.
no subject
Depressing as the thought is, there's something almost freeing about it. Maybe because he's drunk just enough to make an ass of himself but not so much to be sloppy. If every choice is wrong, if there's no way to win, then what does it matter what happens next? Perhaps it's enough to choose something, even if it's guaranteed to leave him miserable in the long run.
The thought is buoying, almost revelatory. It makes it far easier to ask, "Here and now, when you imagine it - finding me at one of those godsdamned festivals of theirs, doing something indiscreet with someone you know. You don't feel a twinge of...of jealousy? Or disappointment?"
no subject
"Which answer will make you feel better about this, darling? If I do feel disappointment at the idea, will that change things? Or if I don't, will you feel comfortable fooling around?"
no subject
Which sounds cruel on its own - and might well sound just as cruel after he's explained himself - but he's lifted his hands as if to gesture, and something in his expression has sharpened. If he's irredeemably an arsehole, she'll at least understand precisely where he's coming from, because he intends to explain himself.
"If neither of us are happy about this, and there's no situation where one of us will be fine with...oh, everything about what we've been forced into...then I think we can do anything we want." It's the sort of logic he'd disdain sober, but there's a clarity of purpose to him right now, and he can't find a single argument against it. "There is no winning option. We could bar the door against your brother and ruin this couch, or I could get up and leave right now - and either way, we'll still both be pissed off and jealous about the entire situation. If each choice is equally bad, then they're also equally good."
Or, in other words, with a deep inhale: "I think we should bang it out."
no subject
It may even cross the line.
Vex looks at him for a long moment before she responds, a series of expressions slipping across her angular features: first bafflement, then skepticism, then something like amusement, and finally a certain guarded interest.
"I just got that couch," she says, hazel eyes meeting Percy's. "Do you think you can make it back up stairs?"
no subject
"Do you have some bedding to speak of?" He's teasing, already reaching for his cane. This might not have the feverish intensity of their first night together in Whitestone, but what he lacks in constitution, he can more than make up in his knowledge of what she likes. "Since you haven't got a bed."
He's going to need something between him and the floorboards, or he's going to wake up tomorrow with bruises at every bony joint.
no subject
It very well might be for the best course of action, out of a list of bad choices.
At least she finally fuck him.
"It might not be the most comfortable, but I can try to make it worth it."
no subject
There won't be any wayward cues digging into anyone's sides this time.
no subject
The detail raises her brows, though, getting a curious look.
"A billiard table? I assume I was sitting on the edge...?" Either that, or he's the one laying down on the game top. Vex isn't sure how she feels about getting felt burns on her back.
no subject
The steps come slowly for him - as quickly as he can manage, but slow nonetheless. Tucking the cane under one arm, he leans against the rail, keeping hold of her hand, and the world sways in his sights with his effort. "We've made use of just about every public room in Scanlan's chateau, and more than a few at Whitestone."
no subject
Clearly she found it worth coming back for more than seconds.
"I had no idea Scanlan had a chateau, but it's what that perverted little twerp of a gnome deserves. I hope I saw more action in his house than he did."
It's what he deserves.
no subject
Even like this, easily tired and a little sloshed, he's confident. She's already seen the recovering wreckage that is his body, and he's already known the secrets of hers; he can make this good for both of them, and damn the consequences they'll face when they sober up again. All that matters now is the fact that he doesn't have to smother the desire to call her pet names or squeeze her hand.
no subject
Somewhat.
Vex is still very sure she can blow his mind, thank you very much.
As if to prove that, when they reach the top of the stairs, Vex wheels on Percy, cornering him between her body and the wall while she goes in for an assertive kiss.
no subject
If he hadn't been two-fisting glasses of wine, if every meal he's eaten hadn't been spiked with who-knows-what, he'd be more hesitant about the whole thing. But he's someplace past tipsy and sexually frustrated, and while he'll be embarrassed by the instinct later, some part of him wants to prove to her just how good the future can be to them. The others she's been with here undoubtedly care for her, but he loves her in a way he'd like to believe can't be matched.
Which is to say, he's sliding a hand along her blouse without hesitation or propriety, looking for whatever fasteners are keeping her flesh from his touch.
no subject
Percy will find an easier time. Vex's blouse is a sort worn commonly locally, tying once to gather at the neck. It only takes a tug to open it, sending it slipping off her shoulder.
More conveniently, she's made something of a habit of wearing a skirt when she's in town and saving pants for her treks out in the woods. Any part of her that Percy wants access too, he won't find it all that challenging.
no subject
(His own clothing still smacks of a desire to maintain his usual standards. The cuts, colors, and fabrics involved are all a bit different, but he's managed to rustle up shirtsleeves, a frock coat, and breeches. A few pearly buttons skitter across the floor as Vex pulls, and for the first time since his arrival, he does have to consider whether he might want to adjust course towards something more like the local fashion. He's not looking forward to finding and reaffixing his lost buttons.)
Every kiss, he chases with another: her lips, her jaw, a demanding nibble at her pulse. His free hand clenches in her skirt, starting to hike the fabric up her legs.
no subject
She'll mend the shirt for him later.
It's a thought that's quickly banished in the fervor of his kiss. If Vex had any doubts about what he'd said, the sure, confident way he seems to find her hot spots would have quieted them. It's not just the points of her ears, which tend to draw attention just as surely as they tend to make her shiver, but also the place just behind her jaw, and over the flutter of her pulse, places that speak to experience.
They make Vex tremble in Rubilykskoye just as surely as in Tal'Dorei.
Of course, that doesn't mean Percy isn't in for anything new.
Among other things—Vex did forget to mention the gold rings piercing either nipple, an addition she picked up months ago here. When his fingers fond those, it wins a full gasp.
no subject
"Oh, these are interesting," he murmurs, the words a soft little rumble in his throat. Percy gives one of the rings an experimental tug, not hard, and his gaze rises to Vex's face. His pupils have gone wider, the green of his eyes overtaken by darker desire. "We're going to have a lot of fun with these, one of these days."
If there's more than just this sun-dappled afternoon, at least. Doubt might creep in later, but while it's just the two of them in her bare bedroom, while they're both operating on alcohol-powered logic, Percy has no hesitations. Already he's considering what it would take to build a weaker version of his electrified glove, something without the power to injure, only to conduct a bit of lightning through any metal it touched.
"But first - I think we need some bedding." Her skirt drops back around her legs as he lets her go, standing upright on his own merits for the moment.