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π–˜π–†π–‘π–™π–‡π–šπ–—π–“π–™ π–’π–”π–‰π–˜. ([personal profile] saltburnmods) wrote in [community profile] draino2024-09-07 10:00 am
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𝐈 πƒπŽπ'𝐓 ππŽπ‘πŒπ€π‹π‹π˜ π‹πˆπŠπ„ π‚π‡πŽπ‚πŽπ‹π€π“π„ π‚π€πŠπ„ β–£ SEPT TDM





SEPTEMBER 2024 TDM: LUGHNASADH


Welcome to SALTBURNT, a panfandom smut/thriller game based off the film Saltburn, where characters are encouraged to indulge their deepest desires. The money never runs out and the liquor never stops pouring, so you may as well indulge from the bounty. Of course, things are rarely what they seem, and the manor itself seems to have a consciousness of its own. Throw parties, trash the house, engage in youthful merriment, but remember β€” dangers come out at night, and no one, no matter how rich you are, is safe from demons lurking in the shadows.

Threads can be considered game canon, provided the players agree. Players can also start fresh upon acceptance into the game. In game characters can post to the TDM directly, using Β« NEW CHARACTER/IN GAMEΒ» in the header. There will be a spot below for new characters to link their toplevels for easy access. Alternatively, prompts on the Test Drive can be used for in game logs.







WELCOME TO SALTBURNT


It's the hangover more than the light streaming in through half drawn curtains that wakes you up, your brain rattling in your skull, your mouth dry and cottony, your stomach churning with whatever it is you drank last night. If self preservation is your strong suit, you might turn over in bed and see a few painkillers laid out for you on a silver dish, accompanied by a glass of water. If it isn’t, stay in bed and wallow β€” eventually a maid will be in to tear your curtains open, saying, "Breakfast is served," and scurrying out quietly, invisibly. Breakfast? Maybe it’s normal for you. Maybe it isn’t.

You're drawn from the room, either by the mystery, or an undefinable urge that could be supernatural in origin, or could be your hunger catching up to you. It's almost nostalgic, the walk to the dining room β€” have you been here before? Were you drawn up to this estate in a car? Haven’t you done all this already? Maybe you mosey around a library, maybe you run into your suite mate in your adjoining bathroom. Regardless, seemingly all hallways, covered in priceless artworks and ancient relics from times long past, lead to the dining room, where a comically long table houses the Balfours and their many guests, some who seem just as disgruntled and confused as you. No matter. "Breakfast will be out in a minute," they say. What's that?

EDIT SEPTEMBER 2024: For those who have attended breakfast with the Balfours before, a change in routine might come as a shock, given how rarely they stray from form. However, as of September, CARMY BERZATTO has taken over Head Chef position, alongside his cousin RICHIE JERIMOVICH and always the bridesmaid never the bride, SANJI. In place of the self-serve style breakfast, there is an elevated menu, including: a self-serve juice bar, with pitchers of various juiced fruit and vegetables, shaved ice, coconut water, green and black tea syrups, potted microherbs, sliced whole berries, and finger limes. There is also, naturally, liquor and champagne available. Guests can make their own drinks, or ask the allocated staff member to serve them one of the "specials" if they're feeling adventurous.

That said, these are world class chefs, so the gold is really in the menu:
THE EGGS

𝐓𝐇𝐄 π‰πŽππ“π˜: one runny boiled egg shelled and recoated in edible gold leaf, seated on a throne of fried bread soldiers, plated with whipped butter and italian parsley.
𝐄𝐆𝐆𝐒 ππ„ππ„πƒπˆπ‚π“: vinegar poached eggs with hollandaise foam on a bed of toasted freekah and baby spinach.
𝐄𝐆𝐆𝐒 π’π‡π€πŠπ€π’π‡πŽπ”πŠπ€: two eggs poached in a ramekin of pureed tomato, served with a crispy grilled cheese cut to dip.
𝐓𝐇𝐄 π’π˜πƒππ„π˜: french omelette with a light cheese filling, topped with crushed potato chips and chives.
πŽπ„π”π…π’ ππ‘πŽπ”πˆπ‹π‹π„π’: fluffy scrambled eggs in brown butter, served on sourdough.
π’ππ€ππˆπ’π‡ 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓: mini-quiche made with caramelized red onions and jamon pata negra ham.
𝐄𝐆𝐆 πŒπ‚π’π€ππƒπ–πˆπ‚π‡: bacon, egg, cheese and sausage breakfast muffin that tastes weirdly like it was made at a popular chain with golden arches.

THE SWEETS

❖ momofuku's "cereal milk" ❖
❖ fette biscottate with a sour cherry jam and peanut floss ❖
❖ a warm cinnamon bun served with a shot of espresso coffee for dipping ❖
❖ a macadamia-marzipan croissant with a wattleseed and burnt-honey filling ❖
❖ poffertjes with a liquid nutella injection ❖


If you want to leave, you’ll have to tell Giles, the housekeeper, who will arrange a car for you that mysteriously, or perhaps suspiciously, never arrives. Unfortunately, confronting Giles about it is near impossible, as he’s as good at being invisible as the rest of the house staff. Of course, there’s no reason why you can’t just walk out. The front gates are easy enough to jump over, even if the walk towards them gives you a strange sense of foreboding, or just outright discomfort, as if the ground itself doesn’t want you to leave. Those more sensitive or fragile might find they can’t make the jump, no matter how physically able, or desperately wanting. Still, a strong person could continue on, over the fence and into the lush English countryside. The feeling doesn’t dissipate, though β€” this sense of wrongness, almost sickness, like a weight on your back. Walk into the evergreen, carry on, but the strongest will make it perhaps a mile or so before the weight of dread and paranoia brings you to your knees, and then to your face, flat in the middle of a dirt road. What were you thinking? Is this really better?

Wake up with a hangover, in a bed, the curtains drawn, the maid saying, "Breakfast is served," before scurrying out. The painkillers are there, just like you remember. In fact, it’s all exactly how you remember, as if you never left an imprint the first time, or any mess you made was cleared away while your back was turned. Walk to the dining room, find everyone there eating away at their breakfast.

"We dress for dinner," says Portia, with a kind, if discerning smile. "Black tie."




ITSY BITSY TEENIE WEENIE

CONTENT WARNINGS: drugs, alcohol, nudity, potential for nsfw.
POOLSIDE PLAYLIST courtesy of Robin

It's an innocent enough, offhand suggestion from the mouth of one (1) DIARMUID about wanting to learn how to paint, and honestly, the house couldn't agree more: a party is necessary. As August winds down, it's important to go out with a bang, and what better way than through an explosive end of summer pool party? To say goodbye to the waning summer nights, the manor is throwing a pool party with an artistic neon twist. Per the growing complications of everyone's relationship status in this new age of bisexuality, polygamy, and pegging, glow-in-the-dark bracelets with matching solo cups have been set out with the appropriate labels β€”Β TAKEN, SINGLE, OPEN, and IT'S COMPLICATED, depending on your interest. Lounge by the water in your cutest bikini or trunks or nothing at all and engage in some very relaxing full-body painting using the supplies provided β€” that is, the paint is supplied, though brushes and sponges are few and far between. Better just to use your own body to paint your masterpiece. Put yourself on display as a model by the pool, or engage in a brutally competitive game of chicken fights, wherein the loser loses their clothes and the winner gets to keep them.

Not your style? Sneak off somewhere more private like the twinkling gardens illuminated with multicolored tiki lamps, lakeside decorated with bio-luminescent rocks, or the (perfectly safe, wolfless, we promise) maze to indulge in your inner desires. You might find that certain colors glow beneath the moonlight and unlock desires you’ve kept tightly under lock and key. It's hard not to feel impulsive or unrestrained under the full moon's light, with your body paint as armor. People might appear more attractive to you under this witching light like a magic spell cast β€” but really, you haven’t had any trouble with that, here. Have you?

If you’re thirsty, the house has tasked RICHIE, CARMY, and SANJI (dressed as cabana boys) with an extensive poolside drinks menu, since they’ve been so helpful with breakfast. Thanks, boys. Ask them for anything. In fact, ask them for everything. They're here to serve.

As the night closes out, turn your eyes heavenward for a spectacular fireworks show. Many apologies to those of you who suffer from PTSD; you can head inside for an early night and cover your ears with a pillow, but do be careful not to suffocate yourself, unless you're into that. The fireworks shimmer and shatter, and those watching closely might start to see hidden messages written in the stars for you, though is that your eyes playing tricks? Better ask that friend you’re snuggled up with. As anxiety weighs a little heavier on your heart, you might feel compelled to confess a few secrets on this last night of summer, big or small, something loving or not. Seek out that destructive habit, or take some steps toward healing. Let the fireworks drown out the noise.






FRUITS OF LABOUR


CONTENT WARNINGS: body horror, gore, cannibalism.

Saying goodbye to summer means welcoming in the new season, and as August nights turn into September mornings, the landscape of the grounds changes from verdant greens to egg yolk yellow and sunburnt orange, a gradient of autumnal colors. To that end, a week long festival erects outside to enjoy the last of the year's good weather β€” a generous harvest bounty fills up tables and tables of ample displays, full of ripened fruits and fresh baked breads, baked potatoes roasted in the coals of a bonfire, sausages, wheels of cheese, marshmallows, cider and apple juice, tomato soup, apple and blackberry compote, rhubarb crumble, all richly decorated in sunset hues. Among the servings, anyone with a birthday in August or September will find themselves a individualized cake, perhaps with some motif to define them, otherwise just with the harvest decorations of gourds, leaves, wheat, and fruit. Alongside that, a new smaller maze has been made from hay bales on the lawn. During the day it's just a silly and fun maze, but at night it takes on a new form and characters can easily become lost and find themselves in a maze that seems to go on forever, with the ominous lowing of a bull somewhere in the distance. Luckily, everyone is released at daybreak, maybe a little traumatized, but all in one piece.

What would a festival be, without some games to indulge in? Around the celebratory grounds, there are four pumpkins painted gold, hidden around the festival. Anyone who finds one is entitled to a boon from your very generous hosts (join the race HERE). Hunting not to your tastes after the last few goose chases? No worries, there's plenty still to do β€” from apple bobbing, jumping over bonfires, throwing discus/shotput, horseshoes, and more, it's a festival jam packed with games and prizes to be won, from little jars of handmade jam from France, to stuffed chicken plushies, to tin cans with the labels ripped off, full of ... well, it's anyone's guess, really. Crack it open and find out!

In honor of the handfasting ceremony, characters are selected at random and tied together at the wrist, much to everyone's amusement. Once knotted, the ribbon will not give way under any physical or magical duress, meaning you'll be stuck together until the tie undoes on its own. It could be day, a night, two nights, or more, but it seems like the ribbon is waiting for something in particular β€”Β a genuine heart to heart, maybe? Consummating the marriage? Hopefully you like the person you're tied to, because you're going to be spending a lot of time with your temporary spouse, in immediately close quarters.

At the end of the week, there's a final end of summer ceremony, wherein the vampire ARMAND is given special homage for being an especially adored guest, donned in floral regalia and ordained with crowns of flowers, much to his growing malcontent. In fact, he and all the vampires present in house seem to be given the regal treatment from the staff with less grand flower crowns of their own, honored at the head of the festival's final gluttonous table, lined with naked, giggling bodies covered in autumnal produce, sprouting mushrooms, blooming flowers, and distinctly meaty dishes β€” steak and kidney pie, blood sausage, pumpkins stuffed with zebra meat. It's only after you drink the wildflower tea and locally (Very, Locally) crafted beer that things start to feel a little off. The happy bodies used as serving platters look sometimes, between one blink and the next, like masticated corpses, the gourds and fruits set more deeply in the cornucopia their opened chest cavities make. Despite that, there's no real sense of death in the air β€” get a better look, and you might find the veins of the dead work more like the vines for the plants, giving them life.

The question becomes: which is the hallucination? The smiling faces or the blooming corpses?

Though hysteria rankles through the crowd the more people come to terms with the visions they're seeing, given the population at the head of the table, it's a fairly easy riddle to crack. Can vampires eat the cursed food? In short: yes, they can. Sorry we made you eat people again.



DIRECTORY


longlegs: s n (338)

[personal profile] longlegs 2024-11-18 09:20 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Relief is visible in her shoulders, breathing out and looking ahead. Kennedy, not Mila. ]

A heavenly witch? [ Well. That's a first. ] Why do I feel like that was a jab.
meca: (082)

[personal profile] meca 2024-11-18 09:21 pm (UTC)(link)
Only if you deserve it.

( oliver doesn't know theo. or hasn't known him more than the whole - what, few moments they've spent here, like this, being dicks to each other. but he's figuring the guy out. whether or not that's a good thing for theo has yet to be seen, but oliver's never minded having someone under his thumb.

theo tries to lean up, and oliver pushes against his chest a little harder. )


If you're a really, really good boy. Think you can manage it?
semicharmed: (faaaaaaace)

[personal profile] semicharmed 2024-11-18 10:32 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Daniel's laugh gets Matt beaming in absolute bratty victory--at least until he echoes back partner, and Matt realizes there's a chance he actually hhhhasn't told Daniel about the sexy aspects of his magic?

Though Daniel seems to catch on right away. Smart man. Matt can't help answering that grin with a smaller smile of his own. ]


I don't know if it'd get us out, [ he cautions, taking a step closer. His heartbeat picks up to match, pit-a-pat for the proximity. ] But if you're down to experiment ...

[ As it were. ]

Can I kiss you?
meca: (pic#15485988)

[personal profile] meca 2024-11-19 10:36 pm (UTC)(link)
Oddly enough, it isn't. I hate most of those bitches, Ken's the only one I put up with.

( his paint brush is up and off though. )

Everyone knows demonic witches're more fun.
chokedout: (130)

[personal profile] chokedout 2024-11-20 05:20 am (UTC)(link)
[The cat has his paw on the mouse, nails not yet extended and the mouse should be laying in fear - yet instead Theo grins up at Oliver. He knows Oliver, a Oliver, and what he's capable of. He yearns to be subjected to his touch again - it feels just as familiar as the bite of his words, which he so pathetically takes joy from as well. It's like old times, if he closes his eyes. Theo sighs, head lolling to the side.]

I'll try.

[He laughs. How sad is it he's still so in love with him?]
longlegs: n s (366)

[personal profile] longlegs 2024-11-20 06:33 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Oh! Cool. She peers at the artwork, lips turned upside down with a pensive frown. #poetry. ]

I'll just keep my opinion on that to myself. [ Anyway β€” back to the drawing. ] What now?
beneficiary: (120)

cw: also mild weight talk

[personal profile] beneficiary 2024-11-21 09:46 am (UTC)(link)
Then I shall stay by yours.

( It's as simple as that in Aegon's mind, though the reality may not be quite so easy. Certainly they could live next to each other but as to how long that peace lasts will be anyone's guess. At least the room will be to Aegon's tastes.

The young king watches quietly as his brother begins to eat, noting silently how birdlike Aemond is in his eating habits. Aegon is not so particular, having been taught early on to eat what was put in front of him out of kingly courtesy than anything. That, and heavy foods helped with maladies of the wine inflicted or so the maesters claimed...
)

Happy in a place that has witches, family members who refuse to stay dead, with no escape or way out prevalent to any who reside here and filled to the brim with strange and mysterious objects? ( Aegon's expression is completely deadpan before he leans back his seat with a small shrug. ) How bad can it be?
meca: (045)

[personal profile] meca 2024-11-23 07:47 pm (UTC)(link)
Good.

( sometimes all a twink needs is the right motivation. oliver's already getting theo's number down: that he's stupidly into him, that maybe he likes to be pushed around a little, that this is where he likes to be: under oliver, touched and appreciated.

so oliver gives him a little of what he wants, and he leans down that little bit of space that separates them, to press a soft kiss to the corner of his lips. )
chokedout: (194)

[personal profile] chokedout 2024-11-24 06:42 am (UTC)(link)
[Theo's eyes close at the contact. Oliver's lips touch the corner of his own and it's like they're a world away - in the sun kissed sheets of the bed in their room, enchanted stars overhead and Ragnor's movement down the hall. Where they would lay like lazy cats, arms around each other like threads woven together and Theo felt for the first time in so long: safe. There's threads of that safety that remain, brittle and heavily defended, and moments like this reinforce them while other moments challenge the whole tapestry.

He turns his head in toward Oliver, seeking out a kiss, lip to lip - slow, delicate, but overflowing with warmth.]
break: (058^)

[personal profile] break 2024-11-29 02:35 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Daniel would normally answer that by initiating; he only doesn't here because he's not sure if Matt needs to do something specific, to make it a magical kiss. ]

Sure.

[ A little gruff. His pupils are huge, iris shaded a light orange around them; this is not quite his first time kissing a human since he turned, he managed to kiss Alicent without ripping her throat out, but it was - a close thing. So he almost looks like he's bracing himself for it, forcing himself to take slow, even breaths, to think of Matt's lips and skin rather than the tiny blood vessels that make his lips pink, the throb of it through him.

Daniel's lips are harder, somehow, than they were the last time they did this; cooler, firmer, less human. He's careful not to drop his fangs, but when he puts hands on Matt's body there's a strength there that he's still learning to control, all of him held back, coiled tight.
]
semicharmed: (smooches 3)

[personal profile] semicharmed 2024-11-30 11:35 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Maybe magic spells aren't the most productive way to establish your new baseline with a partner who has developed a sexualized craving for blood since you last met. Matt is, at least, aware of what he doesn't know, and intends to proceed with caution. His breath slows, semiconsciously falling into step with Daniel's. Matt inhales deeply, and on the ground beneath their feet, a web of golden light springs up. Its ribbons take on a legible design, one that may be familiar to Daniel depending on how closely he remembers the anahata tattoo on Matt's chest. It's not quite the same image; this one has a golden triangle with a line through it at its center, rather than Sanskrit.

As for the kiss, Matt meets Daniel's lips slowly, almost tentatively. But as soon as their mouths meet, he can't help it: His lips fall slightly open, a warm sigh escaping. His heart speeds.

And he makes a soft oh, amused, at Daniel's grip. His fingers land light as an insect's wings on his shoulders. ]
break: (088)

[personal profile] break 2024-12-08 01:31 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The tantric breathing is fucking hot, so Daniel's down to keep that up however hippie-dippie he'd find it if it was pointed out to him. The rise and fall of their chests together, letting the (stolen) blood in his own body thrum a beat that matches Matt's β€” a sync that lessens the urge to bite into the kiss, because it makes Matt less like food and more like an extension of Daniel. He angles his head, closes his eyes, even though he really wants to keep watching the magic. They're gonna have to have a threesome eventually just so he can observe the shape of a spell from the cuck chair.

A slow, deep kiss, taking no quarter when it comes to licking into Matt's mouth. Hands rucking his clothes as they slide tight and hard up his waist and back to his hips. If Matt is barely a moth's brush, Daniel wants him pinned to the board. Wants the blood not just synced between them but flowing, shared. Wants to β€”

No. Breathing. Easing up a little, though not breaking the kissβ€” just trying to wrestle back control so he doesn't sink his razor fangs into the pulsing, blood-fat muscle of Matt's tongue.
]
semicharmed: (levitating)

[personal profile] semicharmed 2024-12-10 07:13 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The longer a kiss goes on, the deeper it goes, the more work it requires to keep his breathing even, matched. And Matt relishes the challenge: the slow, sinuous path that air has to take when lips and tongue and teeth offer their delicious distractions. Daniel's hands scrub hard up Matt's sides, and his breath catches, tongue flicking to chase after Daniel's. He hums eagerly; his fingers tighten on Daniel's shoulders.

Matt takes a half-step forward, swaying into him. His chest lifts, brushing Daniel's chest as he sucks in another greedy breath--

And as Matt inhales, the pair of them begin to lift off the ground. Heels first, toes trailing slightly behind. As if some warm, invisible breeze is raising them up with cloud-fingered hands. ]
meca: (044)

[personal profile] meca 2024-12-11 02:56 pm (UTC)(link)
( theo presses in closer, leaning up into him, and oliver - lets him. he follows theo's cues: keeping the kiss slow, delicate, light but not chaste. there's no need for that here. especially not when this is oliver figuring out what theo wants.

instead, he reaches for one of theo's hands to intertwine their fingers and press their hands together palm-to-palm. gives a soft, pleased hum against theo's lips. )
chokedout: (172)

[personal profile] chokedout 2024-12-12 02:08 am (UTC)(link)
[Theo sighs - predictably - as they nurse their way through the kiss, nipping gently at Oliver's lower lip any time it seems he might pull away. The fingers entwining is like a little pinch in his chest, a memory that feels real again, even if Oliver doesn't remember all the other times they met like this. Every touch that only now resides in Theo's mind as a memory, relived in little bits and pieces on days like this.

It feels the same. He feels the same.]