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AUTUMN 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: spiders, animated skeletons, aphrodisiac effects, exhibitionism/voyeurism, bdsm, kink negotiation, knifeplay, potential dismemberment.
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: spiders, animated skeletons, aphrodisiac effects, exhibitionism/voyeurism, bdsm, kink negotiation, knifeplay, potential dismemberment.
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.
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 damp mosses and ferns, the balmy summer air warm and sticking 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 their hiding places. With your feet under you, 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 knee-deep and chilly. Here and there, dotting the autumnal forest, are strange, massive white trees extending into the sky, surrounded by a circle of dead soil. Their sides are smooth and cool to the touch – like bone, for those who know its texture – and they creak alarmingly, threateningly at the press of warm hands.
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 to find civilization.
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. Above the town, drifting like a low hanging cloud over the tops of the buildings, is a pavilion swathed in deep red cloth, and to the north, past the end of the main street, are several large blockades barring further exploration. Somewhat strangely, the whole town seems to be in a state of slight disrepair– workers bustle around, filling in a large hole in the town wall, a woman curses and fiddles with the crank mechanism of a well, and children splash through muddy potholes in the cobblestone, chasing a malnourished looking dog. Here, the bone trees have taken root as well, a few rising through buildings, branches extending through cracked roofs, others rooted in the middle of the street.
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! 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 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 through some upheaval, and its people have suffered a great loss, newcomers are told. 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!
RECUMITA
The festival fills the streets with dancing locals and all the stuffs of a street market. Despite a stressful summer - the events of which the local seem reluctant to speak of - there's much cheer and reveling over the abundant harvest, and the harvest festival of Recūmita becomes a celebration of unity and community strength dedicated to their fellow townspeople for salvaging this year's crops, the Duchess' magic for protecting them from the horrors beyond the Void, and the Void-Touched who have become such an integral part of their community. Everyone is expected to participate, and everyone is expected to pitch in.Over the weekend, all regular work is put on hold, except for the necessary festival preparations. The streets come alive with vibrant stalls and stands, offering a wide array of delectable treats and refreshing beverages. From barrels of beer and cups of kvas to mouthwatering roasted meats, delightful squash-based dishes like pumpkin latkes, honey-glazed brussel sprouts on skewers, hot borscht in both pork and vegetarian variations, and tantalizing mushrooms stuffed with leeks, cranberries, and bryndza cheese, there is an abundance of flavors to indulge in. But take care of what you put in your mouth. 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.
The first day of the festival transforms the streets into a bustling night market, where the Rubeans organize an assortment of carnival-style games and communal activities.
- Test your strength and aim in knife throwing contests as willing (or confused, drunken) volunteers line up to serve as live targets, standing against a wall with an apple balanced atop their heads. Hopefully someone explained the rules to you beforehand - pierce the apple, and the target is yours to... pierce... in turn. Miss your shot in three attempts, and they get to have their way with you instead. Either way, it would be in awfully poor form to refuse...
- Challenge your pain tolerance in public displays where individuals whip or cut each other to determine who yields first, with the watching crowd cheering the participants on into a frenzy.
- Impromptu improvisational theater where hapless members of the audience are pulled in to act out bawdy jokes or monstrous tales... and are expected to fully act out their part, whether it means growling and biting the actor while playing 'angry bear' or giving him a good fingering in the role of 'lascivious rake.'
- Hot oil massages are being offered in a large tent, where smooth chunks of volcanic rock have been brought in from the nearby coast and heated to radiate warmth, warding away the autumn chill. Relax in your own curtained room and let yourself enjoy a massage from an enthusiastic volunteer - or take your turn rubbing out tight knots and sore muscles among the Rubeans and Void Touched alike. Of course, these intimate activities often take an enthusiastic sexual bent, so for those trying to hide away in the tent, be careful about ducking into the wrong room.
- For those artistically inclined, a long bench is loaded up with massive sheafs of wheat-stalks, and Rubeans sitting around braiding and weaving them into intricate wreaths and crowns. Join the gossip circle to hear about Yudmila's affair with both of the blacksmith's daughters, Hugo's feud with his next door neighbor, and other small-town tales. When you're done weaving, you're expected to spill a bit of blood upon the wreath and dedicate it to the Duchess Zlatka.
Enthusiastic Rubeans, particularly those involved in integrating the Void-touched, take it upon themselves to enhance the festivities. They recruit local participants and willing Void-touched individuals to partake in impromptu stage performances and competitions, with no need for rehearsals. Come as you are and join the spectacle! Once the performance begins, the passion and excitement behind their efforts become truly evident, as all the performances call for explicitly sexual or violent acts to be performed together.
However, those who refuse to get in the community spirit of shared trust and pleasure may find themselves singled out by the Duchess' stewards for some personal, mandatory education on Rubean culture and traditions. They may be forcibly dosed with potent aphrodisiacs, put on display in the stocks or upon a stage until they plead for Her Grace's mercy... or have satisfied enough of the sexual or sadistic desires of any passer-bys.
Throughout all of this, the general attitude from the local townsfolk may occasionally come across as strangely admiring or overtly hostile. While many of the common people of Rubilykskoye hold mixed personal opinions toward the newcomers to their town, two extremist groups have emerged with opposing viewpoints: some think you are benevolent, beneficent beings with nascent powers sent to lead and guide them and solve their woes. These people, called Blackguards, will do their best to make sure your participation in the festival is one of joy and pleasure. But others, called the Zlatniki, believe that the outsiders coming into their land have corrupted their fellows and seduced their Goddess, and will do their best to twist their native traditions toward cruelty and vindictive sadism when it comes to the Void-touched.
writer's block?
If you're struggling to pick a way to engage the prompts, try your hand at knife throwing or serving as a knife-throwing target, get or offer a massage, watching or joining a live sex performance, or eating some aphro food (deliberately or otherwise)!
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 strange skeletal creatures out in the deep forests. An enormous gray bear wearing the horns of an elk, studded with sharp bony spikes protruding from its fur. A wolf-sized badger whose entire skull is visible beneath mossy green growths, sprouting human-like bony limbs from its spine that grab and claw at anything that comes near. Each one is distinct, an unholy hybrid mishmash of plants and animals and bone, but viciously aggressive toward any living creature that crosses its path.
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!
HIDING INSIDE EACH OF US
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.
Rubilykskoye's performance troupe is thrown into a state of panic as Emrik, the male lead of their newest opera, has vanished without a trace! Sure, Emrik has a reputation for being broody, jealous and a little too fond of dramatic entrances and exits, but how is the show supposed to go on without him?
But in the scramble to find their leading man AND get set up for their next performance, a heavy beam nearly crashes down upon a stagehand's head, and the female lead narrowly escapes being snatched up by a shadowy figure that croons a tender melody to her shortly before flinging her into a mirror. Emrik has transformed, and his skeletal, bat-like figure now haunts the rafters of the theater, trying to seduce the prettiest members of the troupe with his haunting song while cutting ropes and raining deadly projectiles down upon them from above.
(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
Rubilykskoye's performance troupe is thrown into a state of panic as Emrik, the male lead of their newest opera, has vanished without a trace! Sure, Emrik has a reputation for being broody, jealous and a little too fond of dramatic entrances and exits, but how is the show supposed to go on without him?But in the scramble to find their leading man AND get set up for their next performance, a heavy beam nearly crashes down upon a stagehand's head, and the female lead narrowly escapes being snatched up by a shadowy figure that croons a tender melody to her shortly before flinging her into a mirror. Emrik has transformed, and his skeletal, bat-like figure now haunts the rafters of the theater, trying to seduce the prettiest members of the troupe with his haunting song while cutting ropes and raining deadly projectiles down upon them from above.
(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
"Well done." He lets the apple fall to the ground and steps away from the target area. One of the Rubeans takes his hand and leads him over to Nathanaël in a symbolic gesture, offering Hans up as Nathanaël's "prize" for having won.
"You're new here, right?" Now that he's up close (and not having knives thrown at him) it's easy to see how handsome Nathanaël is, but he's not quite smooth enough to slip in cliché like I'd remember a face like yours even though it would be entirely true.
"It's, um, customary to...take" he puts a heavy emphasis on the word, one that should be obvious, "your prize. Not that you—not that you have to, of course," the clarification comes quickly, like he's afraid of putting to much pressure on Nathanaël. "Just that's what they expect."
no subject
Those running the games have, at least, started setting up for the next knife thrower, so it's not like everyone is just standing still staring at the two of them. He takes this as a good sign.
Belatedly, he adds, "I'm Nathanaël, by the way. People call me Nath." (He'd gone by Nathan for much of school, but as a result, now "Nathan" makes him feel like he's about to get yelled at for not doing homework.)
no subject
"I'm Hans," They're already holding hands—in public, which, even though he's fucked in public plenty by now, it still feels so novel, it still feels so strange and undeniably good—so he can't exactly offer his hand to shake, but he figures this is good enough. "I am very pleased to have met someone with such good aim."
no subject
"So did you get Polish cursing by being Polish, or somewhere else?" he asks as they walk, curious.
no subject
At the question, though, he gasps, "Polish?!" There's a note of playful offense to it. "No, no, it's Czech. And I got it by being Czech. I've all manner of colorful ones to go along with it."
no subject
no subject
"And, no, that's not it. Actually, one of my..." Hans hesitates, and then his expression softens a little as he lands on, "very good friends is Polish, actually." This isn't said in a coy way or like he's hiding deeper feelings. Instead it's the opposite, the honest statement of a man who until recently didn't have any friends at all and is touched that he can say he does, now. A blessing that he doesn't take lightly.
"It's just that every single person I've met here assumes I'm something else. Russian, usually?" The question colors both words, Russian, and usually, as if he's not entirely sure why anyone would assume anyone is Russian. Not because he doesn't know what it means to be Russian, but because it's just such a small, insignificant place during his time. Like someone repeatedly assuming anyone who speaks German is Swiss. "And worse, still, it's like they've never heard of Bohemia." Despite the fact that Nathanaël said he's only been to Poland once, Hans has decided that he Gets It, as a fellow Slav. Infighting between Poland and Bohemia notwithstanding, as ever, when it comes to these sorts of things.
"So, it's just..." he trails off and shakes his head like he's only just realized he's been running his mouth about nonsense when he's wandering off with an extremely handsome man presumably to have sex, and so all of this is really silly and pointless in comparison to that fact. And he's probably making a fool of himself. "Well, the point is, I don't mind at all."
no subject
Sometimes it's been genuiely frustrating, in fact. But when he tells the story now, it's light. Isn't the world funny sometimes. He supposes that falling through a hole in the universe puts restaurant waiting lists in perspective. Regardless, he certainly isn't reacting like he thinks Hans is making a fool of himself. On the contrary, he's at ease and a bit warmer for finding some common ground.
no subject
So being here was a new experience in a lot of ways, and it gives him common ground but he also imagines there are many things about Nathanaël's experience he cannot understand, downplayed by the humor over spelling.
"You'll be in good company here, at least. There are a couple other French people. And my Polish friend, Adder. I doubt he can spell anything, let alone your name, but Gwen probably could."
Oh, Adder, the man that you are.
"Questionable commentary about origins aside, the people here are, by and large, very kind and welcoming. A common problem does tend to lead to a shared sense of responsibility for one another."
no subject
So it's been a process, he implies, catching up on everything.
"Have you ... Has anyone transformed that you've seen? Or, sorry, maybe that's too personal, you don't have to answer that." He is curious, but he doesn't mean to be rude. And he's still not sure what the rules are around talking about this sort of thing.
no subject
But even for all he'd walked right into the question, it still catches him off guard and he sobers up, letting go of Nath's hand like he doesn't deserve to hold it.
"Yeah, I have seen people transform. And it has happened to me."
no subject
"I'm sorry. That's ... I don't have any magic where I'm from either." (This isn't strictly true, in fact. But it is true as far as Nath knows, and so the sentiment comes across as sincere regardless.) "It's a lot to take in. But I didn't mean to bring up a painful subject. I guess it's on my mind, but then, it's probably on all of our minds, right?"
A beat, and then he offers a tentative joke: "I guess that's what the knife throwing with sex prizes is for, huh?" He's not sure whether this is the kind of thing lightening the mood is good for, but it's worth a try.
no subject
He'd been warned, too. Told he needed to take care of himself. He'd tried, but it had been a push and pull with all of the emotion that was going on. Not enough fucking, too much emotion. Pushing it off but not enough.
He laughs a little wryly at the joke, though, "The sex prizes can help."
no subject
"Is it ... particular emotions? I got a tutorial on zadza, but I didn't know there were other things that put you at risk of transforming." He has to assume 'horniness' is exempted from the list of emotions that can trigger shapeshifting, for example; otherwise they'd all be in a frustrating Catch 22 at all times. "I mean, the closet thing I'm working off of is legends about werewolves, so I'd imagine like, anger? But werewolves are fictional as far as I know, so I don't want to get in trouble assuming."
And if it's maybe easier for Hans to discuss in the abstract, well, that's fair enough.
cw referenced homophobia
So instead he tries a concrete example: "I'm, um—I don't do well with small spaces. We were trapped in the Duchess's castle for awhile, with the dungeon cells all set up like bedrooms. Everyone wanted to leave and couldn't and tensions were really high. And I was still trying really hard to pretend I liked girls—even though it turns out, no one even cares here—and eventually I just...turned into a really murderous nymph."
It's a lot to tell a guy he just met, let alone a guy he's talking about having sex with. But he asked and so Hans is being honest, trying to say it lightly for all that it definitely wasn't at the time.
above cw continued
"I'm sorry, man." About the monster part, certainly, but also: "It's ... there's places at home where no one cares — or I guess like, not quite this place's level of not caring, maybe, but people are fine. Couples can even get married, you know, two men. Or two women, either. But that's my-lifetime recent. And you travel to another part of the country, and there are places where people are still I'm gonna do violence mad about it, even if the law isn't on their side anymore. " He's quiet for a moment or two, and then he adds, "I'm ... I like both men and women. Myself. But I'd be lying if I said it never occurred to me that life is just easier when I'm dating a woman."
It's not something he often talks about, but Hans has been radically honest with him, especially considering they've just met. It only feels fair to offer something genuine in return. Even if would be easier to take the werewolves exist? off ramp.
no subject
But Hans has never really talked to someone about what it's like to face that pressure in depth. Small comments here and there; an epic crashout via telepathy where he yelled at a lot of people he shouldn't have. His and Henry's fears about the future. This honesty is something different.
He gets it. He nods once, letting the words sink in. Easier. It had never been like that for him, though. Courting women was always a show, a spectacle, a set of words. Like the calls and response in church that grew rote. Compliment her hair. Tease her like this. Bring her gifts. A string of pretty girls whose names he barely remembers with overblown gestures all hoping to hide the stark truth that lay underneath it; the reality that he didn't want any of it.
Was it easier for Henry? The thought hits him swiftly, like a lightning strike. Henry liked men and women, he was pretty sure. But Henry loved him, even when it was hard. Maybe especially when it was hard, since Hans had made it his life's purpose to scare Henry away when they'd met, too taken by far with the Blacksmith's Boy and deeply mad about it.
It's a lot to think about, but he tries to find his footing again, searching for a thread of the conversation to pick up. He lands on: "It's easier here. Even the locals don't seem to care at all."
no subject
He doesn't mind a more thoughtful turn to the conversation, but on the other hand, they both have the luxury of walking in broad daylight, holding hands or not, without worrying about how anyone else will interpret it. Even for two men who've just met, it's a silver lining. A small one, maybe, but not nothing.
"What were you doing, before you woke up here? If you don't mind saying."