|
Post by typeandkey on May 1, 2016 4:52:29 GMT
<The following posts have been re-posted from a previous, shut-down forum. There will be a note when the re-posts end and standard reader commands begin. Please, have a read. Enjoyment is mandatory but partly negotiable.>Thank you for the purchase of your copy of Noise Lights: A Text Adventure copyrighted by Softmind Software tm. The install wizard will walk you through the installation process. Would you prefer the recommended settings for installation or custom settings? >recommended You have chosen the recommended settings for installation. You will now be walked through a step by step installation to cater to your preferences of game play. To ensure that the graphical and musical quality of this text adventure fits your computer please specify if you wish for the game to run in either an 8-bit, 16-bit, 32-bit, or 64-bit level of quality. >32-bit You have chosen 32-bit which is just shy of the maximum 64-bit setting. It is good to see that today’s senior citizens are willing to step outside of their comfort zone and try modern games despite being stuck in last generation’s era of computers. You are a shining example; a lone beacon for lost souls. Striding forward in a confusing world that has forgotten you until you have reached some form of mutual understanding. You will learn, and you will be remembered. You won’t let something like using an inferior coal powered computer slow you down. No, sir-ee. >64-bit Sometimes it’s good to be a follower. Some might call it caving in to peer pressure while others will call it a team dynamic. A group mentality helps you make friends. You don’t want to stick out like a sore thumb do you? Everyone’s eyes staring at you and judging you. The mocking, hurtful things they’ll whisper behind your back just like in middle school. Everyone else is using 64-bit and so should you. >64-bit! Whoa there, nelly! Careful where you toss that exclamation point around, you could poke someone’s eye out. Seriously, hitting enter that hard will damage your keyboard. Now then, are you sure you want to run the game in 64-bit? A preliminary scan shows that running the game in 64-bit will cause your computer to catch fire and melt right off your desk. You really need to consider the limits of your hardware. These devices are expensive to replace. >… 32-bit You have chosen to run the game in 32-bit. Next you need to decide what resolution you would like the game to be displayed in. Would you prefer to display the game in 144p, 240p, 360p, 480p, 720p, or 1080p? >1080p Wait, REALLY? You’re running the game in 32-bit and you expect your steam powered choo-choo pc to be able to go hi-def? Are you for real? Look spanky, this is a top of the line text adventure. The graphical prowess of this master work pushes even the best computers to the max. The font in this game will blow your fucking mind. What’s next? Are you going to set it to 60 frames? I bet you will. Fine, that’s what you want and that’s what you’ll get. Boom! It’s done. 1080p AND 60 frames. >30 frames Ha-Ha, no. This is the last step. The Softmind Software tm game company is sponsored by the Blindenführblind online search engine. If you wish to install this search engine’s toolbar say “ yes”. If you do not wish to install this toolbar say “ no”. If you select yes the toolbar will automatically be installed and applied to your web browser. Yes or No? >no You have selected “ yes”. Are you sure? >no >no >no >NO! Thank you for your cooperation. The Blindenführblind toolbar will be immediately installed along with your copy of Noise Lights: A Text Adventure. Please wait, installing now. [-///////////////////////////////----]
Installation 97% Complete [ERROR]
There was a problem with the installation. Please remove the disc and try again. [LOADING]
Thank you for the purchase of your copy of Noise Lights: A Text Adventure copyrighted by- >skip >recommended >32-bit >720p >30 frames >no Please wait, installing now. [ERROR]
Codex:"It seems you have unsuccessfully attempted to install this game more than once. If you need help please contact the Softmind Software tm helpline. If you do not know the phone number, please ask." >What is the number? That information is not available here. Try asking a different way. You’d know this if you read the instruction booklet. >Codex: What is the number? Codex:"You may contact the helpline helpcenter by typing 1-888-TOO-DUMB into your computer. The helpline was constructed for ease of consumer convenience after too many incidents involving melting computers and unwanted toolbars. The helpline’s office hours are 2pm-4pm every other business day." >1-888-TOO-DUMB Customer Service Professional:"You’re calling about the install wizard right? Look, if you’re having trouble with the recommended settings you’re just gonna have to try custom settings. Trust me, it’ll work." [LOADING]
Thank you for the purchase of- >skip >custom You have chosen the custom settings for installation. Please use the options below to personalize the installation of your gaming experience. 1. [GRAPHICS]2. [SOUND]3. [CODING]4. [TEXT SIZE]5. [JUST INSTALL THE GAME, NO BS]>5 [-//////////////////////////////////-]Installation 100% Complete The game has successfully installed. Hit enter to start playing. >enter All of that happened in the install wizard. There was no actual call...
|
|
|
Post by Sharkalien on May 1, 2016 5:01:04 GMT
>Game: Begin
|
|
|
Post by typeandkey on May 1, 2016 5:45:04 GMT
You hear the soft pitter-patter of rain on metal. You open your eyes to the sight of the torn and tattered ceiling of a truck. You can also see the dome light that doesn’t work. This is your brother’s truck. The truck is erratically jostling back and forth. You can also hear a loud and constant sound. A large number of similar sounds, actually. If you had to describe it, which you do, you would say it sounds like a loud chorus of banshees gargling water through a solid piece of tin. Looking forward through the windshield, you see that you are deep in the woods with the only sign of civilization being a small run down shack off in the distance. It’s actually no mystery how you got here. You “ borrowed” your brother’s truck with the express purpose of finding that shack over there. It is a mystery, however, that while you remember arriving you don’t remember falling asleep. Asleep for a considerable amount of time, even. It was still morning when you arrived and now it’s dusk. You look down at yourself. The first thing you always do when you wake up from an unplanned sleeping session is to make sure you still have all your clothes on. Every article is accounted for. You open your inventory to check if everything is still there as well. It contains: 1 can of dehydrated cans, add water for more cans 1 blood stained cool-guy's fingerless glove, collector's preference 1 book titled Staying Delicious: Keep Your Cool as a Fool 1 snake catching kit 1 electronic codex, a product of Softmind Software tm
Everything in there is accounted for as well. Except, you don’t remember owning an electronic codex since this morning. Or ever. The truck is still shaking, that horrible noise is still there, and it will be dark soon. What’cha gonna do? [/font] What’cha gonna do when they come for you?
|
|
|
Post by typeandkey on May 1, 2016 6:05:54 GMT
You open up your inventory again and pull out the electronic codex. It is a small, palm-sized thing with hardly any weight to it. There appears to be no visible method of inputting information. No buttons or touch screen to speak of. The only distinct features are a small dome shaped wire speaker, the Softmind Software tm logo, and a small compartment clip on the back. Fiddling with the clip causes the codex to open up effectively splitting in half. As the bottom half swings idly on a pair tiny hinges, a folded paper tumbles out. It is an incomprehensible document of service agreements and legalese. 1 legalese document added to your inventory Seeing the compartment open, you can see that there is barely any room left in the device for circuitry or anything else. The whole set up seems to exist for no other reason than for something the speaker can attach to. Codex: "Thank you for the purchase of your eCodex brand electronic codex copyrighted by Softmind-" >skip Codex: "The function of this codex, gentle consumer, is simple and sincere. It is to provide you, yes you, with all the knowledge today’s busy person on the go will need to succeed and survive in the modern world. Too often have there been accidents that could have been avoided if only people knew how. Someone believes they can win in a fight against a bulldozer, another thinks the West Canadian Mind Peeler will make a great pet, and another gets his undergarments caught on a tree branch and accidentally wedgies himself to death. It all happens and it can all be avoided. The eCodex exists as the finest repository of knowledge to be consulted on any and all matters outside your understanding. The Softmind Software tm Company accepts no responsibility for accidents fatal or otherwise resulting in the misuse or proper use of the information provided by this product. Any and all purchases are final. Plagiarism and copyright breaches will be dealt with swiftly and horribly. There is no warranty." Looking out the front and side windows shows no immediate signs of life close by. The trees are thick enough to prevent you from seeing anything too far away. Looking behind you out the rear window shows you immediately what the cause of both the truck's movement and that ungodly noise. In the bed of the truck is a massive, writhing pile of snakes. Player Statistics:Inventory: 1 can of dehydrated cans, add water for more cans 1 blood stained cool-guy's fingerless glove, collector's preference 1 book titled Staying Delicious: Keep Your Cool as a Fool 1 snake catching kit 1 electronic codex, loading user data 1 legalese document
It's just like Meemaw used to say, "Life's like a truck full of snakes. You can't get out, and they're gonna eat you."
|
|
|
Post by Neptz on May 1, 2016 14:53:04 GMT
>Check to see if anything is around to provide you with light. Don't want to get eaten by a grue.
|
|
|
Post by typeandkey on May 2, 2016 3:57:30 GMT
Joy and elation! Snakes! You love snakes. You love them so god damn much it’s not even funny. Ever since you were a child you wanted to be just like the snakes. To look like them, think like them, smell like them, eat like them, be with them, share your soul with them, and seduce their women. This is your chance. The snakes appearing in the back of your brother’s truck is a sign. Today you seize your destiny. Unwilling to waste any time going around you throw yourself against the truck’s rear windshield. After bludgeoning the window with your body a few times the glass shatters just wide enough for you to barely get through. As you force yourself through the glass you pay no heed to the pain as you are scratched and cut deep by the jagged shards. You have no time to think about the pain, there are snakes waiting for you. As you finally force through you toss yourself into the waiting embrace of the limbless reptiles. Their head spines bristle outward as they look up to meet you. Their screech-gargling briefly reaches an almost deafening pitch as they open their mouths revealing several rows of needle like teeth. You fall into the shining, shifting mass of blood red, reddish brown, and sickly purple coils. Seized in their embrace you begin trying to burrow and swim through them. From this day forward you will be one of them. The snakes immediately set upon you. What little light that dusk provides is stolen from you as the slithering mass pulls you inward and buries you. You shed a single tear as the biting starts. Your dream, it was so close. Alas, it was not meant to be. The snakes tear into you with feral ravenousness. Eventually there is nothing left. Not even bones. In all honesty, what did you think would happen? [RELOAD]You gasp as you are jolted back to reality. Did you fall asleep again? Was that a dream? It doesn’t seem like much time has passed. It’s still dusk. What the hell was that? You don’t even like snakes that much. Whatever it was, it did do something that was marginally helpful. You recognize what kind of snakes these are. You heard from a crappy wildlife show that they’re called Howling Gut Snakes. That’s really all you can remember. Normally you’d say this isn’t the time or place, but that vision, or whatever it was, really bothered you. Something to take your mind off edge will undoubtedly help. There isn’t much room in the truck to dance, but you do your best to rhythmically gyrate and convulse like the funky dance demon you apparently are. Yeah, that really hit the spot. The snakes didn’t seem to like it, though. The noises they’re making got louder. You’re not exactly sure how driving will get you away from the snakes. Since they are in the bed of the truck, wherever the truck goes they can’t help but go as well. Then again, you won’t have to walk as far to get to the shack, and you can just duck inside if the snakes try anything. On the other hand, if you jostling the car was enough to upset them, revving the truck up might send them into a frenzy. You know what? You’ll do it anyway. Man and machine always beats whatever nature can cough up. You grasp the steering wheel and reach for the ignition. Fuck ‘em up! Your hand doesn’t find anything. You look down to see the keys are missing. Exactly how dangerous Howling Gut Snakes are is made suddenly and painfully relevant to you. Player Statistics:Death Count: 1
Inventory: 1 can of dehydrated cans, add water for more cans 1 blood stained cool-guy's fingerless glove, collector's preference 1 book titled Staying Delicious: Keep Your Cool as a Fool 1 snake catching kit 1 electronic codex, user registration complete 1 legalese document
Even though they ate you, I think you and the snakes made a real connection there.
|
|
|
Post by typeandkey on May 2, 2016 4:02:09 GMT
No keys? Pffft! Who cares? You’ve seen enough movies to know what comes next. You just need to pull out those wires beneath the steering wheel and cross two or more of them to make the engine purr like a puma. The damage to the vehicle is of no concern. It’s not like this truck is yours. You just need to get under the… Find the… Thing and do… The thing? As you stare blankly at where you imagine those magic wires might be you realize you have no idea how to hotwire a car or anything else. Dammit. Why did you drop out of Carjacker’s College? Yeah, uh, no. After that vision thing showed you being eaten alive you have deduced that throwing yourself into the pile of deadly, killer snakes is not only a bad idea, but the kind of thing that gets you nominated for a Darwin Award. This is an action that is most certainly not conducive to your long term, or even short term, well being. Finding a weapon along with the keys strikes you as a good idea, however. If one of them gets in the truck, perhaps you can scare it away with a well-placed bop to its snakely head. You check beneath yourself to make sure you’re not sitting on them. The keys aren’t there. You also check the only other available seat, the passenger seat. Not there either. There is a pile of wire coat hangers instead. Not surprising. You did swipe your brother’s keys and take his truck while he was in the laundromat. He was making a huge fuss about a fancy dress. Anyway, you don’t find the keys in the seats, but that large pile of coat hangers could be useful. You’ll keep them in mind for later. You continue your search through the rest of the truck to find the keys. The glove compartment is being held closed with tape. There is also a note taped to it. The only thing inside the glove compartment is a ratty, old shoe. You find a pair of “decorative” brass balls hanging from the rear-view mirror. There’s nothing in the cup holder put a fistful of rusty pennies. The only thing noteworthy about the gear stick is the eight ball decal it has for a knob. Checking the visors yield only a cracked mirror and several expired food coupons. Scouring the floor only nets you dirt and garbage. Also, the cat plush toy suction-cupped to the widow is missing its tail. So, you didn’t find the keys but you found some possibly useful items that can aid you on your pilgrimage. You found coat hangers, a crumby shoe, a note, and a whole mess of other stuff. That’s useful, right? Player Statistics:Death Count: 1
Inventory: 1 can of dehydrated cans, add water for more cans 1 blood stained cool-guy's fingerless glove, collector's preference 1 book titled Staying Delicious: Keep Your Cool as a Fool 1 snake catching kit 1 electronic codex, knowledge inside 1 legalese document
That shoe shouldn't be in the glove compartment, it was made for walking.
|
|
|
Post by typeandkey on May 2, 2016 4:08:03 GMT
Oh, yeah. This thing. It sure is lucky that you have this. The salesman warned you about the danger that snakes pose. Going on about how they could be everywhere spying on you; hiding behind doors, watching you while you sleep, stealing your breakfast cereal, and taking pictures of you while you bathe. You thought he was full of crap, despite the pictures of you in the shower he had to prove it. The only reason you bought the kit is because it was so cheap. He only wanted an ID and credit card. You gave him your brother’s. Unlatching the Snake Catching Kit you peer inside. The kit contains: an extend-o-grab, a mallet, a pistol, and a vial of blood. You suppose some of these items might be useful against the snakes if they get rowdy. The others, you couldn’t even begin to guess. 4 new items added to your inventory. Now that its purpose has been completed, the Snake Catching Kit dissolves into nothingness. 1 Snake Catching Kit has been removed from your inventory. Remembering the note taped to the glove compartment, you snatch it up to read. It says: “Joe, you fucking dipshit. I already told you, you can’t borrow the truck. I know you’re just gonna take it anyway, so you better have it back by Friday, or else. I need it to pick up chicks. Also, if there is so much as one frickin’ scratch on it, I swear, I will make you eat your own face. signed, Big Bro” You roll your eyes as you crumple up the note and toss it aside. You really have no idea why he gets so mad about this stuff. You wouldn’t have to take his truck so often if he would just let you use it. Another thing, his truck is so trashed and beaten up that it would hardly matter if it got a few more scratches. Granted, every single one of those dents and scratches is your fault, but that’s beside the point. The thing is he’s really just as guilty as you in all this. Maybe a little more… Actually, it’s entirely his fault. You take a handful of pennies and a handful of coupons. You turn to the rear windshield. The snakes in the truck’s bed are still writhing and howling. One slithers up to the windshield and stares back at you. You wave the pennies and coupons tantalizingly before it. That’s right, you slithery son of a bitch. Take the bait, you know you want to. The snake is unmoved by your offer. Its head spines extend and its pupils contract as it fogs the window with its breath. It screeches and moves to strike you. Fortunately it only manages to bloody its nose on the windshield. It falls back into the mass, thrashing violently. Damn. Well, it was a good idea, anyway. Pennies and coupons added to your inventory. Codex: "Since its very beginning, mankind has had secrets. Many secrets; so many secrets, in fact, that if they were not properly kept ordered and contained, they would flood out into the streets and bury anyone passing by in a mountain of hushed words. The most common method used to prevent such clutter is the lock and key. The lock is traditionally placed on an object or device with enough space to accommodate internal storage. The key is used to allow access to the secrets, objects, or secret objects kept inside to the key’s holder. It is encouraged that the key holder keeps said key and all copies to them-self Studies have shown that allowing unlimited public access to what the key guards defeats the purpose of having the lock and key in the first place. It is worth noting that before the key’s invention the favored method of secret keeping was to hide the object underneath a large rock. The intention was for the rock’s sheer weight to dissuade any thieves considering the effort involved in moving it. The actual practice was that the object would be crushed, thus rendering it in a state no one would want to take. This practice took the prehistoric world by storm and explains why nearly all pots archaeologists find are broken. Was this information helpful? Also, an excessive amount of snake noise has been detected. Would you like assistance?" Player Statistics:Death Count: 1
Inventory: 1 can of dehydrated cans, add water for more cans 1 blood stained cool-guy's finger-less glove, collector's preference 1 book titled Staying Delicious: Keep Your Cool as a Fool 1 electronic codex, an education condensed 1 legalese document 1 extend-o-grab 1 mallet 1 pistol 1 vial of blood 1 fistful of pennies 1 bunch of coupons
If only he had invested those pennies in a cleaner truck, then the world would be exactly the same.
|
|
|
Post by typeandkey on May 5, 2016 5:54:04 GMT
You hastily agree to everything the codex has to say with a hearty and resounding “yes”. Codex: "You have answered “yes” to all queries. The helpfulness of the previous information dispensed has been logged with customer service. You have accepted assistance with your current or impending snake problem. You have also agreed to install the Blindenführblind search engine toolbar. It will be applied to your web browser immediately. The snake or snakes in question have been identified as the Howling Gut Snake. The Howling Gut Snake was first discovered in 1925 by semi-almost-renowned wildlife biologist Dr. Samuel Goarman Howler. The snake is named after two conventions: The first being after Dr. Howler himself and the second being after the unique gurgling screech the snakes make that, so far, no other known species of snake has been able to produce. The Howling Gut Snake’s other claim to fame are its feeding habits. It produces no venom, but instead directly attacks its prey and, using its teeth, burrows inside of it. Once inside it begins to eat the still living prey from the inside out. The snake’s trademark head spines prevent it from being removed during the burrowing process. The snake’s only preference in habitat appears to be flat plain areas as, since its discovery, it has been found in arid, tropical, temperate, and tundra biomes. The snake’s temperament has been described by specialists as being “irritable” at best and “completely, blood-curdlingly psychotic” at worst. The snake responds negatively to being shaken as well as loud noises. Though, this is a trait shared by many creatures, the Howling Gut Snakes react in such an exceedingly negative way that it bears speacial mentioning and warning. When they hunt, the scent of their prey’s blood has been known to drive the snakes into a violent feeding frenzy. Even though they do share dens during the hibernation season, these creatures are mostly solitary. While Dr. Howler is credited for discovering the Howling Gut Snake, his discovery was actually accidental. Dr. Howler experienced the snake’s feeding habits first hand one night while making use of his science team’s outhouse during an expedition. His discovery was accidental in that he hadn’t the slightest clue of what hit him. His wife Zealia Howler was moved to tears when she found out she would not receive any royalty checks from the snakes being named after her husband. The best advice when approaching these creatures is to not approach them. It is better to just avoid them entirely, keep away from anywhere they might live, go about your life, and pretend they don’t exist. Was this information helpful?" You: "Well, now… That was informative…" The first thing you decide to do after sitting through a long-winded spiel about how dangerous the snakes outside are, is to evaluate how easily you can get outside. When you turn to the driver’s side door you notice that the window is slightly open. Wait, why is it open? Was it open when you woke up? Something in the back of your mind is telling you that it’s not important and you shouldn’t worry about it. Even though it clearly is and you should. While examining the window you see something glimmer out of the corner of your eye. It’s the keys! They’re dangling by a key ring from the truck’s radio antenna to the left of the hood. Someone has to be messing with you. There’s no way you put them out there. Is this some kind of practical joke? If this is for TV, it’d only be funny if it were happening to anyone other than you. Player Statistics:Death Count: 1
Inventory: 1 can of dehydrated cans, add water for more cans 1 blood stained cool-guy's finger-less glove, collector's preference 1 book titled Staying Delicious: Keep Your Cool as a Fool 1 electronic codex, ask me how 1 legalese document 1 extend-o-grab 1 mallet 1 pistol 1 vial of blood 1 fistful of pennies 1 bunch of coupons
Fun fact: keys are always in the last place you look.
|
|
|
Post by typeandkey on May 5, 2016 5:58:14 GMT
That’s… That’s a… That’s a really good idea, actually. Your keys are absolutely always in the last place you look. If you resolve to make sure the first place you look is also the last place, then logically the keys will be there. Oh, you conniving genius, you. Always finding ways around the system. Classic Joe. [NEW ABILITY UNLOCKED]A Kall to Keys Codex: "You have unlocked a new ability. The ability “A Kall to Keys” allows you to find any type of key or keys in any place you choose to look. However, the place you look must be large enough to contain the keys you wish to find, you cannot know where the keys are (they must be “lost”), and you must have had the keys in your possession at least once. You may check the abilities menu in the player statistics tab. You may only have three abilities active at once. You can also only switch your abilities twice every in-game day." As you search the door for the window crank you instead find a button. The widows are electric and will not roll down unless the engine is running. Just to make sure, you check the locks as well. The locks are one of those pushpin set-ups you can find in older vehicles. The doors have been locked and the pins broken, off sealing the truck doors firmly shut. The obvious design flaws are glaring you in the face. Who the hell builds cars like this? You can only fit your arm through the window’s narrow opening halfway up to your forearm. The keys are too far to reach this way. If you did try to throw the vial of blood out the window, with your arm restricted, you wouldn’t be able to toss it very far. The snakes would swarm too close for your comfort. YOU TAKE THAT BACK! How could you even consider that? This glove is a precious collector’s item. A limited, vintage piece. There are only a handful of these left in the world. Not to mention that it’s going to make you a decent amount of money someday. It was also a gift. Wait… You and you. Exactly who’s being addressed here? Player Statistics:Death Count: 1
Inventory: 1 can of dehydrated cans, add water for more cans 1 blood stained cool-guy's finger-less glove, collector's preference 1 book titled Staying Delicious: Keep Your Cool as a Fool 1 electronic codex, and so can you 1 legalese document 1 extend-o-grab 1 mallet 1 pistol 1 vial of blood 1 fistful of pennies 1 bunch of coupons
Abilities: A Kall To Keys [X] Empty [ ] Empty [ ]
I think you should ask the snakes for help. What's the worst that could happen?
|
|
|
Post by typeandkey on May 5, 2016 6:01:25 GMT
Sure, that sounds reasonable enough. This glove is one of your prized possessions, after all. It’s also probably the most valuable thing you own. Funny story, how you got this. A bunch of limited-edition designer gloves were shipped to Nordstrom; you didn’t know about it before hand, you just happened to be stealing hubcaps in the parking lot on the big day when the gloves were put in stock. Seeing a huge gathering of people willing to maul each other made you decide that whatever they wanted was worth having. After shoving your way to the front of the line you had to fight a guy for the last pair. You ended up clubbing him with a bust of Chip Wilson. You didn’t have any money for the cashier, but you were intent to pay for the gloves with hubcaps. Instead of making you pay for the gloves, she just let you have them. As you recall, her words were something along the lines of: “Oh my god! What did you do to that guy? Is that blood? I’m calling the police!” Anyway, that was really nice of her. The police even contained the mob while you drove away in your brother’s truck. You also sideswiped a few cars, but, again, it’s not your truck. It’s a shame you don’t have the glove’s mate right now. You don’t quite remember what you did with it. Oh well, you’ll probably find it again eventually. As you slide the glove on your left hand you feel a distant, tingling surge of energy. It crackles on your hand like a gauntlet of power. A regular power glove. An understanding dawns on you as your mind floods with visions of cash registers, money, and 1980’s power ties. The power of commerce is at the cusp of your fingertips. Or, they would be if the glove wasn’t fingerless. Before you can fully grasp this new power it fades from you. Only managing to halfway power up before shutting down. It looks like you need the other glove, wherever that is, before you can make full use of the commerce power. 1 blood stained cool-guy's finger-less glove removed from inventory 1 blood stained cool-guy's finger-less glove added to person as clothing Now there’s an idea. All you need to do is grab the keys with the grabber, start up the truck, do something else, and then you’re in the clear. It’s about time, too. You had a bunch of good ideas before that didn’t work. I wasn’t the ideas’ faults either. By all rights they could’ve and should’ve worked. It’s just that little things kept getting in the way. Stupid little things. The window’s not open wide enough, the key’s missing, there’s not enough room to dance. It’s like you’re being railroaded. No, this is actually worse than being railroaded. At least on a railroad you move forward. You literally haven’t been able to go anywhere. It’s like if a room had a bunch of obvious exits, but every time you try to use one the door seals itself because the great game of life says so. Yeah, well suck it whatever hackneyed, vague entity of self-importance constructed this shoddy truck/snake scenario. You and your ideas punched through this farce with cold, hard logic. You angle the extend-o-grab towards the gap in the window. When the claw goes outside you’ll swing it towards the antenna and grab the key, quick and easy. You pull down the trigger and the grabber extends. The grabber’s claw is too big, apparently, and catches on the window and door. You are flung to the opposite door and slam into it bodily. The entire truck lurches to its side before slamming back down on the ground. A rising wail of bloody murder screeches from the truck’s bed. The wind is knocked from you. The large pile of wire coat hangers are sent scattered. A few of the hangers’ hooks catch on the back of your shirt, pants, and keister. Oh!OH REALLY, NOW!What, pray tell, did you do wrong this time?! Did you need to spin the grabber around three times first? Where you supposed to have summoned the truck god three weeks ago to gain favor to help you now in the present? Were you supposed to do any innumerable amount of convoluted things that no person of sound mind would ever conceive of? What exactly are you supposed to do? You are not being railroaded; you’re stuck in a box! Why didn’t the glass break if the claw was too large? Is it made from indestructible diamond based alloy? Is that it? You stop mid-rant to pull wire coat hanger hooks out of your now tenderized backside. Their shape bends and stretches as you handle them. These damn things are worthless at everything. They probably can’t even hold up coats. The truck is violently shaking back and forth. Looking out the window you see the snakes jerking and thrashing. They’ve begun spilling out over the sides of the truck bed. A few are even working their way over the top of the truck. You see a large one slither down the front windshield onto the hood and over the edge out of sight onto the ground. Player Statistics:Death Count: 1
Inventory: 1 can of dehydrated cans, add water for more cans 1 book titled Staying Delicious: Keep Your Cool as a Fool 1 electronic codex, now with concentrated educationoltm 1 legalese document 1 extend-o-grab 1 mallet 1 pistol 1 vial of blood 1 fistful of pennies 1 bunch of coupons
Abilities: A Kall To Keys [X] Empty [ ] Empty [ ]
Vague and hackneyed, huh? Well, if you say so.
|
|
|
Post by typeandkey on May 5, 2016 6:04:23 GMT
Probably being your only option left short of burrowing through the truck’s bottom like a prairie dog, your mind is awash with countless MacGyver-esque Rube Goldberg devices. What autonomous mega-machines can you concoct? There are so many possibilities. You begin humming the MacGyver theme as you set to work. Will you make a flexible super claw, a winch, an ultra-crane? The sky is the limit. Wait, yes, that’s it! The sky! You can construct a rotary system entirely out of coat hangers to power a number of helicopter blades, also coat hangers, to allow the truck to take flight. Once up in the air you can tilt the truck-a-copter just enough to dump out all the snakes. When they all fall to their deaths you will be safe enough to continue with your shack quest. First things first, since you lack access to the truck’s combustion engine you’ll need to make a pedal system to- [YOU DO NOT HAVE THE PROPER ABILITY]You are unable to make a device that complicated without the proper mechanics ability. The best you can manage is to make a long wire hook. With your key retrieval method finally constructed you begin the delicate procedure of hooking the key. Now that the snakes are so riled up you decide to keep what little of your arm that can fit out the window inside. Slowly and steadily the wire hook makes its way to the antennae where the keys are hanging. Outside the snakes appear to be getting everywhere. While more are still tumbling out of the truck’s bed a large number of them are on the ground striking and lashing out at anything and everything all the while howling and shrieking with barely contained animalistic rage. There is another sound of movement from above when a snake peeks down at you over the roof’s edge through the window. You get a close view of its four rows of teeth and two tongues as it tries to get to you by forcing itself through the window’s opening. It snaps its jaws a few times before it gives up and drops to the ground. Most likely to try and find another way inside. You finally hook the keys and quickly pull them in. 1 Keys added to your inventory. Player Statistics:Death Count: 1
Inventory: 1 can of dehydrated cans, add water for more cans 1 book titled Staying Delicious: Keep Your Cool as a Fool 1 electronic codex, it's not like you're doing anything else 1 legalese document 1 extend-o-grab 1 mallet 1 pistol 1 vial of blood 1 fistful of pennies 1 bunch of coupons 1 keys
Abilities: A Kall To Keys [X] Empty [ ] Empty [ ]
♪And she'll have fun, fun, fun till her daddy takes the t-bird away♫
|
|
|
Post by typeandkey on May 12, 2016 3:45:51 GMT
Well, you have the keys. That’s one goal met. Considering how things have been going so far, though, you wonder if it’s even worth it to try the key in the ignition. In all likelihood the engine is clogged with snakes or something and the truck will explode, or maybe the truck will fall apart and the snakes will eat you. However it fails, hopefully it’s at least interesting. You insert the truck’s key into the ignition and turn. The engine starts up and roars exactly as it should. Huh, that’s surprising. Another goal has been accomplished. You really aren’t sure what to do next. You weren’t expecting to get this far. Your attention is drawn outside. The roar of the engine and the truck's vibrations seem to have really pissed off all the gut snakes outside. Even more than they already were. The few that are still in the truck’s bed are thrashing around. You can also hear the snakes on the truck’s roof making a racket. The snakes all around you are shrieking too. Shrieking really loudly. Everywhere. If you weren’t still so damn impressed that you actually got the truck running this would all be very terrifying. Like something out of a living nightmare. Ho-hum. A few more snakes start dropping down past your slightly open window. Even though they’re probably too large to fit you quickly roll it up just to be safe. Yeah, so, the truck’s running. What now? "AUGH!" There’s no need to shout! Right, drive. Driving is good. Movement. Movement is the goal here. Drive where? Going forward is the shack, but if you barrel forward you’d just crash into it. Left and right are full of trees. Then the best course of action is- You shift the truck into reverse and floor the gas pedal. You barrel backwards at high velocity. The snakes on the roof and hood lose their purchase and slide off. You hear moist crunching as the snakes beneath the truck are crushed into paste. The snakes in the truck's bed slam into the wall behind you. They make it clear that they’re not pleased, but, then, they really don’t get a say in the matter, do they? After you put some distant between you and the swarm of snakes ahead, you hit the brake. The snakes left in the bed slam into the opposite wall. They don’t make as much noise this time. Deep breaths, deep breaths. You’re running on adrenaline right now. Okay, what’s next? The snakes in the truck’s bed appear to be dazed. Hopefully they won’t be a problem. You hit the button and roll the window down all the way. You shift the truck into park and lean out the window as far as you can. You take out the vial of blood and pop the cap off. You need to do this right. You spout the first one-liner you can think of. “It was snakes to meet you!” Was that a good one-liner? With all your strength you toss the vial at the swarm. The vial doesn’t hit any trees or rocks, but it does land on the crushed snakes you left during your mad dash backwards. The moment the first drop of blood hits the ground the snakes stop shrieking and the forest goes completely silent. There is a single brief chorus of the snake’s gurgling howls as they make a beeline for where the vial landed in a pile of their pasted brethren. Even the snakes that were still in the truck’s bed spill over its sides to get there. With the scent of prey’s blood is mixed with their own, they all converge into a mass and begin attacking one another. They strike and bite and tear into each other. They even indulge in their *traditional* feeding method. It’s one big slithering swarm of gore and violence. Good lord, that sound is unbearable. It’s not very pleasant to look at either. 1 vial of blood removed from inventory. Player Statistics:Death Count: 1
Inventory: 1 can of dehydrated cans, add water for more cans 1 book titled Staying Delicious: Keep Your Cool as a Fool 1 electronic codex, let me do the thinking for you 1 legalese document 1 extend-o-grab 1 mallet 1 pistol 1 fistful of pennies 1 bunch of coupons 1 keys
Abilities: A Kall To Keys [X] Empty [ ] Empty [ ]
No, that was not a good one-liner. Softmind Softwaretm Monthly Corporate Newsletter:Hello valued corporate investors. I would first just like to start this by saying that you all look fantastic this evening. That was really kind of irrelevant considering this is a pre-recorded message, I don’t know what any of you actually look like, and I really don’t give a damn how you look anyway. Right, that’s out of the way and the ice is broken. I would like to dedicate this to addressing the massive amount off angry calls we’ve been getting from all of you. Yes, I know our business model isn’t exactly how we described it in the paper work, but trust me, this will work out better. We all know that the most common form of product management and problem solving in the business world is to just throw money and people at it until it’s fixed. If it didn’t work people wouldn’t keep doing it, am I right or am I right? We decided to take that concept and rev it up to the extreme. We’re gonna get places with this, believe me. Our current staff is large enough to fill six sporting stadiums. We actually bought a stadium and built five more next to it. Which sport? I don’t know, the really big one. There’s a ball, I think. With the amount of people we have and with what you’re paying us, you can bet your bottom dollar we’re gonna whip up something fantastic. That being said, stadiums are great for sports, but not so much for office buildings. The existing space isn’t exactly accommodating to our needs right now. In fact, we’ve currently set a record for all time lowest productivity in the history of the business world. We’re in the process of fixing that. Also, one of the stadiums is filled with nothing but pinball machines. We’ve had to reallocate employees to other stadiums, so space is a largish-small issue. What can I say? I’m a collector. Don’t worry, it’s under control. Another big issue you kept ragging at us about in all your calls is that you all believed this was an exclusive partnership. Seriously though, you should spend less time on the phone. Try it, you might get some work done. Anyway, the exclusive partnership? Yeah, that was actually just a straight lie. Sorry about that. In our defense, you wouldn’t have agreed to fund us if we didn’t lie to you. So, Hopefully this has answered any questions you may have had. There’s no need to worry, we’ve got everything in the books and under control. Don’t call us, we’ll call you. Seriously, we’re blocking you. Your constant calls were really distracting, we’re trying to run a business. Don’t stress it. I can guarantee that you’re all in for the biggest payday of your lives. Trust me.
From the desk of Geraldine Hayes.
|
|
|
Post by typeandkey on May 12, 2016 4:00:08 GMT
The combined experience your brother’s truck receives from killing the snakes and completing a quest is just enough for it to level up. Its rank increases from Rank 1 Mud Masher to Rank 2 Snake Smasher. It also receives a stat bonus of +3d6 worth of extra damage to all snake and snake-kin type creatures. The added 3 dice will hopefully bolster the truck’s, quite frankly, shameful dice pool of only 10d6. You’ll only get the 13 for snake-kin, though. Anything else and you’ve only got the truck stats that God/the mechanic gave you. You do not receive any experience because you are not a truck. Yeah, it’s about time too. Who thought getting to this fucking shack would end up being such a hassle? It should be fine now, you’ve figured it out. The shack is free before you and nothing is stopping you. Considering your recent luck with doors, is it worth your time to try opening it normally? Another question: why risk it? You’ve got the ultimate door opener with you right now. The newly christened Snake Smasher, a.k.a. your brother’s stupid, crappy truck that you’ve made a hobby out of regularly trashing. No effort, no chance of failure, and no skin off your nose. You rev the truck up and start barreling forwards. A quick, clean smash through the front door ought to do it. It’s not a very big shack, but the truck should be able to fit. The shack is actually larger on the inside. Like from that show with the Swedish alien and his time traveling IKEA store. You’re positive that it’s larger on the inside because the Noise Lights told you so. Oh, you haven’t mentioned the Noise Lights yet? Well, how it happened was- The truck smashes into the shack at a nearly break-neck speed. Instead of the shack’s front wall caving in, you see the front of the truck begin to crumple from the impact. The shack gets closer and closer to you as the vehicle continues forward with its velocity. With no more room under the hood the engine begins to force its way into the truck’s cabin. It catches on your right leg. Oh, tough luck. You’re not going to be able to get that back. As the truck moves further still the steering wheel begins to press against your chest. It pushes against you to the point of being uncomfortable, and then keeps on pushing. It, well, you… The bottom line is you get squished, sorry about that. Wow, that shack is pretty sturdy, huh? It looks like those snakes got the last laugh anyway. [RELOAD]You quickly shake your head as you are once again made aware of your surroundings. Oh no, you had another one of those vision things. These things are seriously distracting. A person could get hurt if they just keep spontaneously getting forced into having daydreams. What if it happened while you were driving? You could get in an accident. Your situation is still the same as it was a moment before. You’re sitting in a running truck parked a distance away from the shack that is your current destination and a pile of twitching snake gore. Yep, it’s still not very nice to look at. You’re just going to keep trying to not look at it. Maybe pretend it isn’t there. Whatever works. You shift the truck into gear and slowly proceed forward. You cautiously turn around the pile of stuff that you’re pretending isn’t there and loop around the back of the shack. There’s just barely enough room for the truck to fit through and it gets scraped by a few branches as it makes its way around. You stop the truck next to the shack’s side while you face the way you came. If you have to make a quick getaway, you can just go in a straight line. Since the locks on the truck’s doors have been broken you have to roll the window down and crawl out that way. Your feet finally touch ground as you feel the cool, musty forest air. The light is rapidly fading as dusk gives way to night. Now, here comes the easy part. You just need to casually walk to the front door, turn the knob, and walk in like a normal person. There’s no need to do anything rash- Oh yeah, the snakes. You look over your shoulder and- DAMMIT, you were trying to forget they were there! You see the still twitching and quivering mass of snake blood and guts. You even hear a few weak gurgles and pitiful shrieks as the last few snakes that haven’t bled out yet breathe their last few breaths. With this jolt of unpleasantness you quickly fling the shack’s door open and bolt inwards. You get fewer than ten steps inside before you crash into something solid and fall over backwards. The door slams shut behind you. You are in near total darkness. Player Statistics:Death Count: 2
Inventory: 1 can of dehydrated cans, add water for more cans 1 book titled Staying Delicious: Keep Your Cool as a Fool 1 electronic codex, the truest danger is ignorance and everything around you 1 legalese document 1 extend-o-grab 1 mallet 1 pistol 1 fistful of pennies 1 bunch of coupons 1 keys
Abilities: A Kall To Keys [X] Empty [ ] Empty [ ]
"Every object in motion remains in motion until an external force is applied to it." I love science
|
|
|
Post by typeandkey on May 12, 2016 4:03:42 GMT
After you fall flat on your back, you immediately begin shuffling your feet. Moving your legs, you position both of your feet flat on the ground. You start pushing yourself towards the door from which you entered. You can feel the wood grain as well as layers of dust and dirt against your back as you scoot along. When the top of your head makes contact with the door, you continue pushing yourself against it. Unfortunately, pushing yourself against the door while lying on your back does not open it. After a few more moments of attempting to open the door in this manner you finally stand up. You grab the doorknob and turn it to find the door opens just as easily as it did before. Peeking outside you see that while there are still trace amounts of light, the treetops are blocking most of it. The sounds of the forest are changing from birdsong to crickets and the echoing cry of an owl. When you step back inside the door slams shut on you again. You feel around the door and discover the cause. It’s one of those spring-loaded door-stoppers meant to automatically close doors in order to prevent careless guests and homesteaders from leaving it open lest they and their kin be whisked away by boogeymen and screech owls. Even if you hold the door open there’s not enough light to allow you to see much inside the shack. The best you can make out are two windows, one to the left and right of the door each. You hear a lingering noise above you, a faint tapping sound. Like something light gently tapping against fragile grass. Perhaps something moved as a result of a breeze when you opened the door, or when you barreled headlong into that solid object like a bull in a china shop. Slowly and with great care, you once again open the door. Millimeter by millimeter you pull the door inwards, every quiet and lowly scrape or creek echoes in your mind as if the very core of the earth was tearing opening to swallow the world above. With the care and precision of a neurosurgeon infused with the life’s blood of an astrophysicist, you finally prop the door open. The door will close automatically thanks to the spring device, so you hold it open with your foot. The last bows of the sun snaking through the clouds and trees only provide so much light. It’s nearly completely dark outside. What little illumination there is doesn’t venture much farther than the door’s threshold. Even if it was the middle of the day, you’re not sure if the outside light would be that much help. The no doubt cyclopean size of the shack’s interior most likely exceeds what probability will allow to be illuminated. How far can a flashlight reach at the bottom of the ocean? Not very. It occurs to you that since the shack is so dramatically larger on the inside, exploring it might become an issue. The Noise Lights only told you to explore the shack, they never mentioned how. Your eye suddenly catches something glinting above. It seems to be moving in sync with the light tapping sound. That depends entirely on what kind of owl. You remember one nature show that got cancelled because members of the film crew kept getting carried off by owls, eagles, and humming birds. The noise is obviously something rather than nothing, confirmed now by the fact that you are looking at what appears to be making it. After a few tentative steps forward into the dark you reach for the swaying glinting thing. You hand grabs something small, thin, and light. It feels like a metal bottle cap with a hole punched through it tied to a string. It doesn’t feel very taught. It actually has a lot of give, what should you do with it? Player Statistics:Death Count: 2
Inventory: 1 can of dehydrated cans, add water for more cans 1 book titled Staying Delicious: Keep Your Cool as a Fool 1 electronic codex, Soda is brainfood 1 legalese document 1 extend-o-grab 1 mallet 1 pistol 1 fistful of pennies 1 bunch of coupons 1 keys
Abilities: A Kall To Keys [X] Empty [ ] Empty [ ]
Choo-choo! All aboard the Railroad! Destination: More Railroading!
|
|
|
Post by typeandkey on May 12, 2016 4:06:46 GMT
[April Fools Update]Yes. The most logical, and the only, course of action is to pull it. You do so. With gusto and ease. As you lower your arm with complete masterful pulling skills you hear a heavy click that indeed confirms your domination an all things that can be pulled. The reward for your fantastic display is many blinding lights flashing to life and glaring all around you. After your eyes adjust, you take in your surroundings. You are surrounded by an endless void stretching off into infinity in all directions. Within the void that surrounds you is an innumerable amount of massive, explosive thermonuclear devices. It also appears the string you just pulled was a trigger. A large timer begins to countdown starting at five minutes. The only way to deactivate the countdown is to input the correct deactivation code. The deactivation code is, by chance, a sequence of bodily movements that perfectly coincide with escaping from a locked truck. There is a to-scale model of a truck attached to the bomb’s countdown timer. If you hurry you can input the code before it’s too late! After careful consideration you decide that it’s not worth it to go through that ordeal again. There are even snakes in this truck as well. No,no. You decide to spend the last few minutes of your life lounging on the floor to relax after a hard evening’s trials. They’re pretty good. Once the timer hits zero every bomb detonates and you are dissolved into a puff of atoms. The explosion created by the temporally infinite number of nuclear devices quickly envelopes the globe and moves beyond. At a speed many times greater than light, the explosion stretches into the cosmos and in a mere matter of hours, completely dissolves the universe and the whole of creation. [CONGRATULATIONS, YOU WIN!]Score: 999 out of 10Stuff Ab0ut T3h Pl8y3r:Death Count: 385,187,473,697,902,069,682,578,001
Pocket Things: 1 useless bauble 1 thing you'll never use 1 blatant ripoff of a much better fictional encyclopedia 1 pumpkin 1 all the pumpkins 1 nothing at all 1 potshot 1 fishful of posies 1 bunch of coconuts 1 kleptomania
Stuff Can Do: hold breath for 10 minutes [X] cheesy one-liners [O] jump hella high [X] pancakes [O]
Blah blah blah, yak yak, klaatu barada nikto.
|
|
|
Post by typeandkey on May 12, 2016 4:10:27 GMT
You pull it. There is a quiet but still audible click. In an instant everything around you is illuminated. You are staring up at a single lightbulb dangling from a cord. That thing you pulled actually was a bottle cap tied to a string, just like you guessed. It is worth noting that the string is specifically of a hemp-twine make and the bottle cap is from the Soda Marsouin Company. Well, it’s good you found a light source. Hopefully you can find more. Exploring this massive labyrinth hidden in a tiny shack will be very difficult in the dark. When you look down from the light above you see four walls. Four shabby, wooden walls made of rotten boards filled with holes. There are two cracked windows on opposite sides to your left and right. You can see your brother’s truck outside of the one to your left. The door you entered is shut behind you. There appear to be two trapdoors, one is on the ceiling and the other is on the floor. Other than the dirt and sawdust beneath your feet, there isn’t much else in here. This appears to be a perfectly normal shack. It also noticeably appears to NOT be the massive complex of mazes and oubliettes you were led to believe it would be. Those fucking lights lied to you! Actually, this shack looks smaller on the inside. Outside, it was big enough you had to make an ordeal of driving the truck around it. Inside, the walls are only about ten paces apart from each other. You can tell you’re not just in a smaller room surrounded by more rooms because the windows allow you to see directly outside. Not to mention you can see through the walls’ many holes, as well. That thing you ran into earlier was actually just the wall currently in front of you. This would be incredibly disappointing if you just weren’t so pissed off about it. Player Statistics:Death Count: 2
Inventory: 1 can of dehydrated cans, add water for more cans 1 book titled Staying Delicious: Keep Your Cool as a Fool 1 electronic codex, wisdom has been dispensed 1 legalese document 1 extend-o-grab 1 mallet 1 pistol 1 fistful of pennies 1 bunch of coupons 1 keys
Abilities: A Kall To Keys [X] Empty [ ] Empty [ ]
I'd be pretty steamed if I were you. I'm not though, so it's funny instead. Codex:The Soda Marsouin Company is a long standing distributor of soft drinks that was originally founded in 1928. Its original and still current headquarters are located in the UK city formerly known as Kingsbridge and currently known as New Roi tué since a few years before the company’s founding. The Soda Marsouin Company offers a wide variety of soda flavors such as classic cola, fruit punch, tiger’s blood, root beer, ginger ale, tea grass, and the massively popular tar flavor. Their soda’s biggest selling point is that it is currently the only soft drink to use 100% natural porpoise oil. Its biggest competitor Shasta Cola only uses a processed porpoise oil substitute. In the 1960’s after the global porpoise population had been harvested to near extinction, the company had find alternative means of obtaining the much needed oil or face going out of business. After an appeal and brief blackmailing campaign to the greater science community, the Soda Marsouin Company was able to use genetic engineering to produce its supply of oil. In an effort to avoid breaking too many animal cruelty stipulations, it has limited it production line to a single super porpoise. This genetically engineered mega beast was named Soda the Porpoise after the company’s mascot and is indeed the sole source of oil used in all of the company’s sold beverages and continues to be to this day. He is many times larger than an average porpoise to accommodate his hyper stimulated oil production and weighs in just over 58 metric tons. His face has also been surgically altered to have the cartoon mascot’s trademark mischievous grin. At the end of the factory tour, for 500 kroner, patrons may get a picture taken with Soda the Porpoise during the oil siphoning process. Seeing Soda is the main draw of the tour as, like in the commercials, Soda's bloated and misshapen bulk brings joy to all who see it.
|
|
|
Post by typeandkey on May 18, 2016 5:52:32 GMT
The realization that you wasted an entire day and nearly died over a big fat lie only adds fuel to the fire of your inner hurricane of negativity. When you’re told you’re going to see a specific type of dimensionaly impossible architecture you expect to see that specific type of dimensionaly impossible architecture. You were supposed to find an internal structure so mind bendingly large that it would have shattered your fragile little sanity like so many sugar wafers. Instead, you find the poor man’s shack. So poor, in fact, he could only afford to make the inside smaller than the outside… That analogy didn’t quite work, but that’s just because of how pissed you are. [STATUS CHANGED TO PISSED]Codex: "Your emotional status (or just status for short) shows your current emotional and mental state. Your status will affect how you socialize and speak to other people. Example: with the status effect of PISSED any dialogue spoken by you will be belligerent and hostile. The status may be changed by performing certain actions, such as watching a comedy film to gain the status effect of JOVIAL. Only extreme status effects will affect your actions. The status effect of TERRIFIED will prevent you from climbing into the Gaping Stone Mouth of Eternal Wailing Nightmares while the effect of AFRAID will still allow you to be coaxed into it. Some actions may only be performed with a specific status effect." Yeah, this isn’t helping. You came out here with a job to do and being upset isn’t going to help anything. You’ll need to have an open mind to get through this. There has to be a way to calm down, and you have the perfect idea. [NEW ABILITY UNLOCKED]Stat Tat Codex: "Because of your past experience with *ahem* substances, you have a working knowledge of chemicals and powders; specifically of the mind altering variety. Because of this you are able to grind any item in your inventory into a fine powder that will apply the MELLOW status to anyone it is used on. This status can be interrupted by another, how long it lasts uninterrupted depends entirely on what item is used. Be careful which items you sacrifice, it could be something you need later. You will not lose anything for this application, however. The first one’s always free." You take a handful of powder and smear it over your face while inhaling deeply. A feeling of absolute calm washes over you as the powder works its magic. Who’s pissed? Certainly not you. You feel how a sage on a mountaintop must feel; a feeling of deep enlightened understanding of all things while not actually understanding anything at all. You also feel a little hungry. [STATUS CHANGED TO MELLOW]You know what? Maybe you were a little hasty earlier. Maybe the shack being bigger on the inside was a metaphor. You don’t know how this stuff works. It can’t be easy making something smaller on the inside. For all you know, entire universes of space might be needed and interwoven to the mini-infinite reality of compressed space. Maybe more space is what less space is made of. You sure could go for a peanut butter panini right now. You know what? Why not? Normally this would strike you as an incredibly bad idea, but you just feel so mellow right now that you’re up for anything. You pull the pistol out of your inventory and gaze down the barrel. You could check to see if it’s loaded by popping the clip out or absolutely any other way, really, but that just doesn’t seem as fun. It’s too dark down the barrel to see if there’s a bullet in it; only one thing left to do. You pull the trigger as you look into the gun expectantly. A small pole with a flag tied to the end pops out. The flag has the word “BANG” printed on it in big, comical letters; how fun. What an incredibly delightful and whimsical surprise. Unfortunately the tiny pole pops out with such force that it lodges itself deep into your forehead. [STATUS CHANGED TO PANICKED, IN PAIN]As your precious, precious thought juices start dripping down over your face, you let out a high-pitched, girlish scream. Waving your arms around, you start running in circles, however, even with your IQ steadily declining you realize that running in circles isn’t getting you anywhere. You then proceed smash through the door into the forest night all the while still waving your arms and screaming. The owl you heard earlier spots you. Unfortunately your dying throes of pain and agony match this particular owl species’ mating call and dance. Seeing a potential cuddle buddy, the lonely owl swoops down and grasps your writhing carcass in its talons. With a flap of its mighty wings, it carries you away over the trees and through the moonlight sky. When it finally reaches its nest, the owl begins the mating ritual by burying you in its hoard of tootsie pops. Then it lays eggs in your brain. Ah, young love. [RELOAD]You squeak out a pitiful cry as your hands fly up to your forehead. Yet another terrifying and disgusting vision. Why is your subconscious imagination so grotesque? Why do you keep blacking out and having these episodes? Do you need to get professional help, or something? And does your gun seriously not fire bullets? That’s just stupid. [THE VISION OF YOUR GRAPHIC AND GORY DEATH HAS MADE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE. STATUS CHANGED TO UNSETTLED]Yeah, something possibly productive might help take your mind off whatever that was. You drop down to your knees and examine the trapdoor. It might not be as trapish as other trap doors; it has a noticeable brass knob sticking out of it. Maybe more of a trap considering the knob is a tripping hazard. A trapish trip door? The wood of the door is worn and faded while also covered in the loose dirt, dust, and sawdust scattered around the rest of the floor. The knob is heavily smudged. You quickly rub it with your sleeve before grabbing it. With a quick turn and a tug you open the door outward to reveal another door beneath. Player Statistics:Status: UNSETTLED
Death Count: 3
Inventory: 1 can of dehydrated cans, add water for more cans 1 book titled Staying Delicious: Keep Your Cool as a Fool 1 electronic codex, searching for Fake-Gun Safety tips 1 legalese document 1 extend-o-grab 1 mallet 1 pistol 1 fistful of pennies 1 bunch of coupons 1 keys
Abilities: A Kall To Keys [X] Stat Tat [X] Empty [ ]
Dirty Harry, you certainly ain't.
|
|
|
Post by typeandkey on May 18, 2016 5:56:54 GMT
Sure, lots of them. It usually depends on where you are. You’re certainly going to be safer in a cul-de-sac than you would in the jungle. When you were a kid there was a cat in the neighborhood. It never once tried to kill you. Sure, it mauled seven people, but it never came anywhere near you. Some creatures are just safer than others. In many cases animals are the least of your worries. One of your neighbors, a friend of yours, had a thing in their basement. His family sealed it in there when they found it. He said they heard it scratching around on Christmas morning. Anyway, it had been locked down there for years when he told you about it. You’re friend, you don’t remember his name, brought you over to his backyard to try out his new trampoline. A board fell off one of the basement windows when you got too close. The thing, it- well, that’s not really important. The bottom line is: there are plenty of animals that are safer depending on where you are. Having thoroughly lost interest in the possible infinitely recursive doors, you hunker down into a corner to read a book. You always were mildly fond of books. They’re easier to get than television and more useful. Hollowing the book out to hide things in has always been fun. You’ve taken your fair share of books from the library. You never returned them, naturally, but you certainly wouldn’t leave the library without compensation. The books you take are normally checked out with your brother’s library card. That way, when the books don’t get returned, your brother has to pay the fee. You get free books and the library gets reimbursed. Everybody wins; especially you. You crack open “Staying Delicious: Keep Your Cool as a Fool” and within minutes you are lost within its pages. The gentle pitter-patter of light rain on the shack’s tin roof is the only thing that reminds you of where you are. The book you’re reading, Staying Delicious, is a self-help/instructional guide for the attention starved by the attention starved. Jointly penned by authors Paytricia Attenson and Lackett Mei, it provides many useful hints, tips, and tricks on how to be the center of attention and remain the center of attention in any situation. It equates the entire concept to being irresistible and delicious in a hypothetical sense. It uses the word delicious quite often, in fact; sometimes completely unnecessarily. It actually uses it to a point of reaching the broad side of uncomfortable. The synopsis on the back of the cover actually boasts the book using delicious over 12,000 times. You thought this was a cookbook when it was given to you. [NEW ABILITY UNLOCKED]Honeyed Vinegar Codex: "Thanks to mankind’s two greatest achievements, written word and self-indulgence, you now have the ability to distract any and all people or creatures by keeping them focused solely on yourself without fail. Keep in mind that once their attention is on you it is very difficult to lose as whatever thing you do will be so interesting that they will be captivated with you even if you leave and re-enter the room. This is not a passive ability; you will need to consciously try to get their attention with the intent of keeping it. If the target is hostile, its attention will also be accompanied by actively hunting you. Switching this ability out for another does not immediately deactivate its affects if something is currently focusing on you. Remember, if you forget what an ability does or need more information, just ask." You put the book back in your inventory and crawl back over to the trapdoor to resume where you left off. You might as well get it over with, even though you have a good idea where this is going. There’s probably going to be a bunch of doors, one after the other, stretching down into a huge tunnel of infinite doors that you’ll waste the rest of your misbegotten life opening. Or, at the very least, there will be enough to annoy you. You grab the knob of the second trapdoor beneath the first and turn it. It swings open downward revealing another room below. Oh, well it’s better than you were expecting. The room is dimly lit and appears to be another worn and beaten up wooden board affair. The floor is covered with loose dirt, dust, and sawdust. You also see what looks like a figure crouching in the center of the room staring at the floor. Player Statistics:Status: UNSETTLED
Death Count: 3
Inventory: 1 can of dehydrated cans, add water for more cans 1 book (read) titled Staying Delicious: Keep Your Cool as a Fool 1 electronic codex, wouldn't you like to be a pepper too? 1 legalese document 1 extend-o-grab 1 mallet 1 pistol 1 fistful of pennies 1 bunch of coupons 1 keys
Abilities: A Kall To Keys [X] Stat Tat [X] Honeyed Vinegar [X]
♪Like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel♫ Codex:
While it can be said the majority of sentient, non-sentient, animate, inanimate, living, and un-living creatures, things, and everything else in the world have been categorized as unsafe with the ability to dispatch a person in a myriad of colorful, creative, and horrifyingly entertaining ways, at the very least, the scientific study of biology isn’t boring. It is worth noting that the safest place in the world to live is Australia. While the rest of the planet was going through an evolutionary arms race, Australia’s isolation as an island continent rendered its ecosystem completely separate from the rest of the world. This allowed it to develop at a more leisurely pace, rendering its creatures relatively benign in comparison. The “deadliest” snake in Australia, the Inland Taipan, has venom potent enough to kill a person fairly quickly, but it neither liquefies the victim alive nor makes said victim's head explode. A common trait found in at least two other subfamilies of snake. On the counter side the most dangerous place to live is New Zealand. Due to a catastrophic blunder by its once thriving wool industry, the entire country is a quarantine zone. It’s like Jurassic Park, only with sheep.
|
|
|
Post by typeandkey on May 18, 2016 6:04:44 GMT
Actually, whoever this is does kinda look like your brother; from behind at least. He’s got the same hair color, but he’s not wearing the type of clothes your brother usually wears. Your brother usually prefers to dress like a fop with ties, suspenders, and pomade. He thinks he’s SO fancy just because he has a well-paying office job. This person is dressed like a moron too, but in a different way; crumby jacket, worn shoes, ripped pants, and all. He’s also wearing a dirty, finger-less glove. Just the one, his other hand is bare. “Hey numb-nuts, did you lose the other one?” What a tool. Anyway, since whoever this person is looks like your brother you automatically dislike him. If he is your brother, he’s got a lot nerve muscling in on your quest. It might have been a mistake to tell him where you were going, but at the time you thought it would be a good security net in case you needed him to bail you out of trouble again. It is curious how he got out here before you, baring the incident where you were unconscious for most of the day, especially since you took his truck and disassembled his bike. Again. There are only a few ways to find out for sure if that is your brother. The first one is talking. It’s time to make contact. Your current unnerved state outweighs your dislike of your brother; you decide to proceed with caution. You: “Yo, bro. Is that, um, is that you?” He doesn’t answer. He’s still crouching down there staring at the floor. How rude. He either can’t hear you, or he is ignoring you. It’s time for the next step of making contact, a swift jar to the head. If he is your brother, he probably has this coming. You pull out the “Staying Delicious” book and wind up your throwing arm. An echoing thought in your head plants the idea that if you don’t immediately turn around and try to catch something, you’re going to look very silly. Well, aside from all the times they got you horribly killed, the spontaneous ideas have never given you a reason to distrust them. Sure, you’ll bite. With a moderate amount of strength you hurl the book through the trapdoor at the figure below. 1 book removed from inventory Oh. Yeah, that’s an unsettling thought. The codex said that the scent of their prey’s blood is what drives Howling Gut Snakes to frenzy. The blood of a specific person instead of blood in general is an oddly linear thing for an animal to focus on, though. You’re not a herpetologist, so you’re not sure if that’s the case. Still, if that guy you bought the snake catching kit from did include a vile of your blood specifically, how did he get it? At the time you respected the specifics of the transaction since he demanded identity theft for payment. Thinking back on it, the guy was kind of a creeper. You’re not sure how to feel about the idea of a possible whack job having unlimited access to your blood. You’ll have to look into it later. Anyway, you were going to do something before you landed on this train of thought. What was - *WHACK*A book pelts you in the back of the head. Before you can reach up to grab it, it rolls off you and tumbles down into the open trapdoor. You: “Son of a seven eyed man-manatee!” You quickly turn around to see where the book came from. You catch a glimpse of the trapdoor in the ceiling and see that it’s open when - *WHACK!*A book pelts you in the face. 1 book added to inventory Player Statistics:Status: UNSETTLED
Death Count: 3
Inventory: 1 can of dehydrated cans, add water for more cans 1 book (read) titled Staying Delicious: Keep Your Cool as a Fool 1 electronic codex, print is dead read me instead 1 legalese document 1 extend-o-grab 1 mallet 1 pistol 1 fistful of pennies 1 bunch of coupons 1 keys
Abilities: A Kall To Keys [X] Stat Tat [X] Honeyed Vinegar [X]
You probably deserved that. Softmind Softwaretm Semi-Monthly Corporate Newsletter:So, we’re doing another one of these then. Whatever. Apparently, my last newsletter just wasn’t good enough, even though I answered all of your queries and rightfully put your collective minds at ease with no evidence to the contrary. You have been sending us mountains of letters not only complaining about the same things you did last time, but now some new problems that you seem to have imagined up. We already disabled our phones. Are we going to have to cancel our mail too? The “problem” you’ve been complaining about the loudest recently is that we have been supposedly draining massive amounts of money from your finances and savings. Well, not supposedly, actually. We really have been doing that; for quite a while, in fact. It’s NOT a problem, though. Everything we’re doing is calculated down to the last digit. We know what we’re doing, we’re professionals. You’ll be fine. Okay, I can kind of understand a little why you’d be upset. Especially since we forged a bunch of signatures and sabotaged your legal departments to do it. Yes, I get it. I understand. I’m actually on your side here. It was sort-of almost-slightly underhanded of us. In our defense, we needed it more than you. Think of this as a good thing. You guys are WAY too jumpy. Seriously, the moment we do something a little illegitimate or slightly illegal, you go up in arms about it and start quoting “Ethics and Practices” at us. What does that even mean? “Ethics and Practices”. Just a bunch of buzzwords. Just because it’s dangerous doesn’t mean you should give up. Think of it like this, the bear trap is there to keep you from letting go of the prize. Here, just to put your minds at ease, I’ll tell you a little something. We were planning to wait on announcing this during the next public tech expo, but I can see you donkeys need your carrot now. We’ve put together a handy little device. It’s a camera. Not just any camera; no, no, no. This hefty and massively expensive camera will revolutionize the interactive fiction industry from the ground up. This camera, while filming, instead of converting scenes to moving pictures, like in the movies, converts the images recorded into painstakingly detailed pages upon pages of text. That’s right, text. Beautiful, simple, and pure. Now this generation’s text adventure games can be produced for prices as low as the average multi-million dollar summer blockbuster x3. You’re welcome.
From the desk of Geraldine Hayes.
|
|
|
Post by typeandkey on May 25, 2016 7:32:24 GMT
Oh, no. You don’t need to pretend that you’re not angry. Your status is still set to UNSETTLED. Your salty exclamation earlier was more to do with brief shock than actual anger. It’ll take more than a few light knocks to upset you. You’re used to it. As for this new book… You pull the book out of your inventory and look at the cover. It’s called “ A Hunter's Heart”, and it appears to be a collection of biographical and autobiographical short stories that revolve around hunting. Some of the notable contributors are actually VIP list celebrities such as current president Billy Mays and beloved " My Fair Proboscis" sitcom actress Xylahzigzig. It’s odd to be looking at it here now. You actually remember seeing this before. It was on a small table in the 24 hour free clinic that you’re staying in. You convinced the receptionist to let you crash in the lobby. You do have a sort-of apartment, but you can’t really go back there until some problems take care of themselves. You’re brother offered to let you stay in his guest bedroom, but damned if you’ll go there when he actually wants you to. Anyway, this book was in a pile of other books on the table next to the couch you’ve been sleeping on. Before you started your journey you decided to grab a book in case you needed to kill some time or throw it at someone. You were originally going to take “ A Hunter’s Heart”, but in the end decided on “ Staying Delicious”. You open the book and leaf through its pages. It appears that every page has been smeared with some kind of glow-in-the-dark ink. Carefully examining the pages you find that certain spots have been left bare of the glowing ink as if to highlight certain words. These certain words appear to mostly be along the lines of “hunt”, “watching”, and “eat”. On the very last page there is a doodle, also in the glowing ink, of some kind of circle with a dot in the middle surrounded by outward radiating squiggles. Okay. What is this even supposed to be? A wrinkly flower? An eye on a poorly drawn sun? An eye surrounded by untamed eyelashes? Failed mascara? This isn’t scary so much as it is trying too hard to be scary. Blotting out every page just seems desperate, and the scribble at the end looks like a child drew it. They might as well have written "booga-booga" while they were at it. You tuck the book back in your inventory. What a waste of perfectly good literature. For some reason, when you threw your book at the guy below you, some other guy above you threw another book at you as well. You quickly glance upwards to see the person through the trapdoor above you glancing upwards. When you look through the trapdoor below, the guy down there is still staring at the floor. Though you can only see them from one angle, these bozos do look kinda similar; like your brother. A test is in order. You reach into your inventory and pull out your fistful of pennies. You hold your hand over the trapdoor and let go. 1 fistful of pennies removed from inventory. You see the figure beneath you drop something on the floor. Immediately you hear the clatter of coins landing on the ground around you, as well as a few landing on you. They’re nickels. 1 fistful of nickels added to inventory. Wait a minute. Something screwy is going on here. These two keep moving at the same time you do. Either the two of them are working together to mess with you or-. You put your hand through the trapdoor on the floor and look over your shoulder at the trapdoor on the ceiling. You still can’t see the figure’s face, but he’s sticking his hand through the door. You wave your hand around and he does the same. No. Oh no. No-no-no NO![STATUS CHANGED TO PISSED. AGAIN.]You do NOT look like your brother! Sure you have the same hair color and a similar build, but you are a quadrillion times more ruggedly handsome than that clean-shaven office jockey. It’s these trapdoors; these portal doors. They’re clearly broken. They must be distorting your image like a fun-house mirror. Sure, upon closer inspection they’re both wearing the same clothes as you, but that doesn’t mean anything. The stuff you put through. What about those? The book and change you tossed through were different when you got them back. If the portal changes things you put through then it must not be working right. Wait. You quickly pull your hand back and look at it. It’s exactly the same as it was before. Doesn’t matter, the portal’s still busted. Player Statistics:Status: PISSED
Death Count: 3
Inventory: 1 can of dehydrated cans, add water for more cans 1 book (vandalized) titled A Hunter's Heart 1 electronic codex, vandalized as it should be 1 legalese document 1 extend-o-grab 1 mallet 1 pistol 1 fistful of nickels 1 bunch of coupons 1 keys
Abilities: A Kall To Keys [X] Stat Tat [X] Honeyed Vinegar [X]
You should throw another book at yourself. It's still funny.
|
|
|
Post by typeandkey on May 25, 2016 7:38:48 GMT
With your blood boiling you reach deep into your inventory and grab an armful of everything you have. Like a petulant child having a tantrum over being denied ice-cream cake, you throw everything on the ground; it all clatters loudly as your items scatter across the floor. 1 entire inventory removed from inventory. You do not look like your brother. You are nothing like your brother. Not even a little bit. Would your brother ever do anything like this? You think not. Stepping around the mess you made, you pick up the mallet and equip it in your hands. You step over to the can of dehydrated cans. You swing the mallet down crushing it beneath the blow. Extremely tiny, miniature cans spill out as the top pops off. The extend-o-grab is next. It breaks into many pieces when you bring the mallet down. A small pole and flag pops out of the pistol’s barrel as you smash it. The keys don’t break, but they bend beyond use under the head of the mallet. The book, legalese document, and coupons are far too flat to be crushed; you decide to rip them up instead. As paper scraps flutter throughout the room, you kick the nickels around since there are too many to smash. Inhaling and exhaling deeply you look around the shack with apelike pride at the absolute mayhem you caused. There’s just one thing left. You stride over to where the electronic codex lay. You were saving this one for last. It appeared out of nowhere, gave you information that was completely useless, and worst of all, it’s boring to look at. The small unassuming box lays there on the floor with its lone bubble speaker looking up at you as you raise your mallet. You bring the hammer down with a smirk on your face. As the hammer connects with the codex time slows to a crawl. There’s a blinding flash followed by your feet leaving the ground as you’re thrown backwards. You hear glass shatter behind you. With your body now horizontal, you look upwards to see the window shattering outward as you are careening towards it. As you fly through the now open window, you notice that the wood from the entire shack seems to be exploding outwards. Luckily for you, with the truck’s locks being broken, you left its windows open to make getting in and out easier. This allows you to pass through the truck without being crushed or sheared in half by one the metal bits. After passing through the truck, your airborne journey takes you into the trees. Miraculously, you miss every trunk, limb, and branch before finally smacking into the ground. Oddly enough, you didn’t skid upon your landing. You just, sorta, hit the ground and stick there. It’s soft, though; if you don’t mind all the rotten leaves and pine needles you’re laying on. Well now. The codex blew up. You guess that’s it for your adventure. You were supposed to find the shack and do something. Well, you found a shack and blowing it up counts as something. You had no doubt that you’d succeed, but sill, the outcome was a little disappointing. At least there were some exciting parts. Hopefully the explosion did some damage to your brothers truck. How satisfying would it be to tell him it got blown to smithereens? Then again, maybe not, since you’re going to need it to get back. It’s actually pretty cozy here on ground. It’s really, really soft. It almost feels like you’re ever so slightly sinking into it, like those fancy foam mattresses. Looking up, you can make out dim shafts of moonlight through breaks in the clouds shining down the canopy while droplets of rain splash on your face. It’s probably a good idea to go before you get completely soaked. You begin to sit up. You are unable to. Your back cannot seem to part from the ground. When you try to lift your arm you see some sort of silvery, white substance beneath the detritus holding it down. Behind you, above your head, you hear a number of metallic clicking sounds as if someone were unlocking a great many locks. You look up when you hear something creak to see the forest floor parting to reveal an old wooden door opening up from the ground. From the darkness you see eight glinting eyes staring back at you. An enormous spider steps forward. It groggily clicks its mandibles together as it examines you; its sleeping cap dangles lazily from its cephalothorax. Seemingly satisfied, the spider spears the ground next to you with one of its forelegs. You and the ground around you begin moving into the darkness leaving behind the forest floor bare as if a blanket were dragged across it. Before you disappear into the den, you get a close look at the wooden door when it dawns on you: this is a trapdoor spider. The realization of this pun prevents your PISSED status from being changed. The door closes behind you and the locks are locked. To learn more of what takes place here please consult the eCodex tm on the feeding habits of spiders. [RELOAD]You blink a few times. You’re standing in the shack with your arms full of your inventory. You quickly stash your things back where they belong. Is this a problem? Is having multiple hallucinations about your own elaborately grisly and overly verbose deaths a sign that you’re losing it? What, like in that it’s an actual mirror or that it’s a metaphorical mirror in that it only shows a close approximation of what’s on the other side? Naturally, if you had two portals you could use them like a mirror. You’d be able to see your back. Also, if you got clever with the angles, you’d be able to see your front too. Not to mention that being able to give yourself high-fives is a novelty that simply cannot be ignored. There’s probably a market for this. Would the portals still work if you tore them down? It would certainly help if you could angle them to be more mirror like. No matter how much you try you just can’t get a good look at your face. You need to be sure that at least the most important feature of yours is different from your brothers. That would certainly be useful. There are only a few places you could possibly look; unless you wanted to scour the entirety of the forest, that is. You don’t remember there being anything rope-like in the truck. You would have found it during your earlier search; the shack is also pretty bare. There might be something around outside. Looking through the widow opposite from the one near where the truck is parked, you see a cluster of old-fashioned, metal trashcans. Were those there before? There’s a distinct feeling of deja vu regarding things that may not have been there before. You carefully step outside onto the moist ground as light raindrops begin to bounce off your head and shoulders. You quickly round the corner to see a disorganized cluster of rusty, old metal trashcans. Prying the lids off of each of them, you find them to all be empty. Something orange catches your eye in the light shining out of the shack’s window. Looking into the window to see it’s much smaller on the inside provided with the view through the other window and open door is fairly dizzying. Anyway, you push past the trashcans to see a slimy, moss covered extension cord lying in a pool of muck. It’s old and worn; the orange insulation casing is shredded in several areas. 1 extension cord added to inventory. Player Statistics:Status: PISSED
Death Count: 4
Inventory: 1 can of dehydrated cans, add water for more cans 1 book (vandalized) titled A Hunter's Heart 1 electronic codex, now with audio pong 1 legalese document 1 extend-o-grab 1 mallet 1 pistol 1 fistful of nickels 1 bunch of coupons 1 keys 1 extension cord
Abilities: A Kall To Keys [X] Stat Tat [X] Honeyed Vinegar [X]
Mirrors? Now if only Lucy and Harpo were here.
|
|
|
Post by typeandkey on May 25, 2016 7:51:49 GMT
Now that you have identified the trapdoors as some kind of portal or mirror-portal variant, it’s time to start experimenting. The portal seems to change items you put in it, so it’s time to start putting stuff through and see what you get. A proper use of the scientific method would advise caution and controlled variables, but caution is something your brother would do. Why do something half-assed when you can just stuff it all in there and be done with it in a single move? Also, the pistol does not appear to have a safety feature of any kind. Good idea. You certainly don’t want to get pelted in the head again. Alright, you’re ready. You reach into your inventory and gather everything you have into your arms. You walk over to the trapdoor and hold your items over the opening, positioning everything in such a way to make sure it all goes in on the first try. You make yourself ready to duck off to the side so you don’t get pelted by all the junk you’ve collected. On the count of three: one, two, thr- Hm? Yeah, but- Well- … Okay. You lay out your book, coupons, and legalese document around the trapdoor. It’s a little hard to see around the other you, but looking through the portal you see some differences. The “Hunter’s Heart” book appears to be the "Staying Delicious" book down there, however, it appears the coupons and document have been replaced with pocket lint and a dryer sheet. You toss a single nickel through the portal, making sure it hits the floor instead of the other you below. A single penny bounces off the back of your head in response. 1 single nickel removed from inventory. 1 single penny added to inventory. According to the instructions on the can of dehydrated cans, you’re supposed to toss it into a water source whereby the can will burst open with a bountiful supply of fresh new cans by the bucket load. It’s not recommended to open it manually. Even if you did want to ignore the instructions, you don’t have a can opener. Finally, you pull out the extend-o-grab and extend it so the front half is through the portal. When you look over your shoulder you see your other self holding the front half of a stick through the portal. Okay then, so it seems that the portal may change things to an apparent close approximation for anything seen through it or anything that goes through. Lint and a dryer sheet, though? Well, out least you found out in a mature and well though at manner. You should be proud. Yeah, it was childish of you to throw a tantrum over whether or not you look like your brother. It shouldn’t matter if you look like your brother or anyone else. You are you and nothing in this world will change that. In the whole vastness of the universe where you amount to nothing more than an unlikely puff of atoms, there is only one entity that, against all odds, is made of the exact combination of what makes you, you. Your mere existence is a miracle, and on top of that, you, out of all the other puffs of atoms, were specifically chosen for this, you assume, monumentally important quest. You are a unique individual and not a damn thing will ever be able to change that. So, you’re better than tantrums. Look at what you were able to accomplish through thought and reasoning. You were able to gleam, possibly, important information that you would have, probably, never have gotten if you smashed all your items or just haphazardly thrown them in. You feel like a new person. You have a new outlook. From now on, things are going to be different. Here you stand; a pillar of integrity, logic, reason, and importance. It’s good to be you. [STATUS CHANGED TO INSPIRED]And in they go. You gather up everything in your inventory, save for a few, and toss them all into the trapdoor without a second thought. All your things clatter onto the ground through the portal and a few on the other you. 1 most but not all of inventory removed from inventory. A shower of pennies rains down on you. That’s it. That’s it? Did you just lose nearly your entire inventory? Has it been swallowed up into some void? No, they haven’t. Looking down through the door you see everything you put through lying on the ground. The other you is looking through his portal. So, only the pennies made it through. You can still see the nickels you put through on the ground down below. This supports your earlier theory that the portal is either broken or not working properly. Regardless, you gather up the pennies. 1 fistful of pennies added to inventory. Besides the keys and codex, you also saved the extension cord and your book. There’s just one other experiment you can think of; the previous idea of using a rope-like object to lower something into the portal seems like a good one. You tie the cord as best you can around the book and begin lowering it through the trapdoor. No sooner does the book enter before you’re pelted in the back of the head with a book. Shocked by the jolt, the extension cord slips from your grasp and tumbles below. When you pick up the book you see it’s the “ Staying Delicious” book again. You’ve stuck your hand through with no ill effects, so it should be safe to physically go through all the way. It’s baffling that most of your items didn’t go through yet you can still see them through the portal below. Maybe climbing through one will provide some answers. Hopefully this doesn’t kill you. You stand up and turn around. Looking up, you see that your doppelganger did the same. In synchronization you both jump and grab hold of the trapdoor’s frame and pull yourselves up. You slide onto the floor with your knees displacing several objects. You’re surrounded by the items you threw before. 1 rest of inventory added to inventory. Contrary to what you saw with the coins and book, everything seems to be exactly the same with no changes. Other than that, everything seems to be accounted for, except… The extension cord appears to be missing. You hear something shifting above. When you look up you see your other self moving. Instead of crouching on his knees like you, he’s standing up and wrapping the extension cord over his shoulder like a bandolier. With no input from you, he jumps upwards and grabs hold of the trapdoor above him. You hear an impact on the trapdoor behind you. Your weight shifts slightly as the wood beneath you creaks. Player Statistics:Status: INSPIRED
Death Count: 4
Inventory: 1 can of dehydrated cans, add water for more cans 1 book (read) titled Staying Delicious: Keep Your Cool as a Fool 1 electronic codex, complete with wireless dial-up internet 1 legalese document 1 extend-o-grab 1 mallet 1 pistol 1 fistful of pennies 1 bunch of coupons 1 keys
Abilities: A Kall To Keys [X] Stat Tat [X] Honeyed Vinegar [X]
You'll be fine. Everything's fine. I'm sure.
|
|
|
Post by typeandkey on May 25, 2016 7:59:10 GMT
That’s an interesting concept. At first you consider brushing this thought aside as being improbable, but, after thinking for a moment, it really seems just as probable as several other things that have happened to you today. You can think of four possible scenarios off the top of your head. The first one that comes to mind is that both trapdoors are glimpsing into the past and future. It only looks like the other versions of you are miming your actions because they’re both your past and future selves acting out what you have done and will do. A few problems with this scenario, though. If the trapdoors don’t transform what you put through it and was actually your time-you tossing in the replacements he (meaning you) would need to have gotten them from somewhere as having them materialize out of nothing is very unlikely. “Unlikely”, you say while staring at a possibly time traveling portal door. The second problem is: now knowing that time travel is a possibility you would willfully go out of your what to not do what you saw your future-you doing. You’re a leader, not a follower, after all. The second scenario is, that while the doors do indeed pierce into the past and future, they are only milliseconds before and after the present. It looks like the other versions of you are mirroring your movements only because the time difference is far too minute for the naked eye to see. That still doesn’t explain where the extra items came from, and anyone who would go through the trouble of building physics breaking and time traveling doors only to make the time shift too small to notice has an off sense of priority. What would be the point? Disappointing, is what it would be. A third scenario could be that a version of yourself from a different time is responsible for this. Maybe a future-you, having lived through some sort of calamity, built this in an attempt to prevent the oncoming/already-happened apocalypse. Each door you ascend through could take you forward through time until you see what caused the end of the world, then you descend back through time to prevent it. Or past-you saw some necessity for time travel and built this, then made himself (yourself) forget for another even more necessary necessity. The extra items could have-been/will-be acquired by a future-you and sent down to you-you and past-you for a vital purpose that you will/have-already learned about. That would explain the extra junk, but there are a few problems with this one. Even if it was a necessity, you would not force yourself to forget on the simple grounds that self-inflicted amnesia is dumb. Another is that, simply put, that is far more effort that any version of you, past, present, or future, is willing to give for anything. You suppose that you could make someone else do it for you, but you’d probably end up being roped into overseeing the project the entire time, and that’s something you just wouldn’t want to do. The final scenario is simple. Aliens did it. They did it for an experiment. The extra items clonking you on the head and all the mirror miming of your future and past selves is just part of their plan. Everything that happened to you today was all according to their experimental designs. The only problem with this scenario is that you don’t believe in aliens. The creaking and shuffling on the floor behind you derails your train of thought. You grimace at having your intellectual musings interrupted. Whoever is behind you just can’t be bothered to let you have a moment. Jeez, some people. After a moment you realize that he must be hesitating. You’re probably in his way. He doesn’t seem to want to call out to ask you to move. That could be a sign that he’s trying to hide his voice. That could be a sign that this is your brother masquerading as you since his voice has nowhere near the charmingly roguish quality that yours has. Whether it’s another you, future-you, your brother dressed as you, or whoever-else-you, you’ll find out a lot quicker if you help them up. If it is your brother, then after you help him up you can hit him with your book and push him back down. You stand up from your crouching position and take a step forward. Before you can turn around, something catches your ankle and yanks you back to the floor. A little wind is knocked out of you as you hit the ground. As you try to get up you’re pulled back causing you to hit the floor again. You are pulled again, dragging your jaw as well as the rest of your body across the dirt covered wood. You look over your shoulder to see your assailant. He has you by the ankle with one hand and is using the other to pull himself up. Now that you have a close look at him, you can see the clothes he’s wearing are similar to yours, but a lot dirtier and rattier. The dim lighting reveals that he seems to have spilled some sort of glow-in-the-dark ink on his shirt and sleeves. You also finally get a look at his face. It’s… Oh my. His face is a twisted, grotesque parody of yours. While his hair had looked mostly like yours earlier, up close, you can see matted strands are plastered on his forehead as if drenched in sweat. The skin on his face, and only his face, is beet red and peeling like he's been very badly sunburned. The skin around his eyes is stretched out to a painful degree, making where his eyes would be look unnaturally large; you can see the folds of skin around his eyes held down as if by seemingly invisible clamps. There are single light bulbs jammed into his eye sockets, both dimly lit and flickering. His nose is crooked in a way that looks it was broken and healed improperly many times over. His mouth is wide open and his jaw hangs so low, it looks dislocated, but it's still rigid enough to function. His efforts to pull himself up actually causes him to attempt to clench his jaw, nearly closing it with his teeth almost touching; almost, but not. Actually, instead of teeth he has the bulbs of pointed Christmas lights of various mismatched sizes and colors jutting out of his surprisingly pale gums. In the opening of his throat that, like his eyes and mouth, are unnaturally large, there is a bundle of wires that jolt and spark with every breath. His tongue is hardly visible and caught up in the twisted bundle of wires, only noticeable because it twitches and spasms with every shock. His physical movements seem to be jarring more wires loose, you can now see them poking and hanging out from his shirt collar, his sleeves, and other parts of his clothing; all of them live and sparking. There are even a few wires poking out from under his fingernails. Despite his mangled expression, what little emotion can be gleaned from his flickering eyes is a look of pure and utter hate. His labored and muffled breathing sounds electronic and buzzy, like every noise he makes is run through a damaged speaker. He takes a deep breath causing his mouth to spark and sizzle before letting out a cry that sounds both confused and very, very angry. You: "Hello." [STATUS CHANGED TO AFRAID]Player Statistics:Status: AFRAID
Death Count: 4
Inventory: 1 can of dehydrated cans, add water for more cans 1 book (read) titled Staying Delicious: Keep Your Cool as a Fool 1 electronic codex, knowledge is power and power is pain 1 legalese document 1 extend-o-grab 1 mallet 1 pistol 1 fistful of pennies 1 bunch of coupons 1 keys
Abilities: A Kall To Keys [X] Stat Tat [X] Honeyed Vinegar [X]
I don't know what your problem is, he looks friendly to me. Softmind Softwaretm Almost-Semi-Monthly Corporate Newsletter:Hello again to our semi-valued Corporate Investors (Mandatory Benefactors),
Our Company had a good month(s) so far since our last letter. Due to some of our oversights in selecting facilities, staff, and overall frivolous money spending, our company’s productivity is still firmly locked in the all-time lowest the world has ever seen. We’ve actually been setting and breaking new records by a wide margin, but hey, setting records is a good thing no matter how you look at it. Despite being located in six sport stadiums, space is becoming a much bigger issue. The pinball collection has started overflowing into our other buildings. I know I said we’d work on that, but some things just seem more essential at the time than they really are. I’ve kept my word, and we have indeed stopped accepting mail from you in addition to phone calls. We’ve never even bothered looking at your emails, so I wouldn’t recommend you try now. I understand. I understand your concerns completely. We want to be productive and make money, you want to make money too, and you want us to stop illegally draining money from your accounts. For us to be able to achieve any of those goals, we need to first eliminate all distractions. Your concerns are perfectly justified from a conventional standpoint. However, our business model, contrary to what we actually described in our contracts, is not conventional. If we have to stop and listen to every cry of “that’s illegal” or “please, for the love of God, you’re driving our business into the ground” we wouldn’t get anything done. With that in mind, I’m pleased to announce that our project’s progress, as well as other newly started projects, has reached almost acceptable levels of development. Back to the subject of contact, a few of you have actually sent representatives and lawyers to speak with us directly. I wouldn’t have recommended that since it turned out to be a waste of time. We recently installed patrols of armed guards who turned those representatives away. Well, some of them were turned away. All the performance enhancing drugs we’ve been stuffing into them have made the guards a little trigger happy. Sorry about that. I mean seriously, sorry. We’ll send what’s left back to you. We’re still trying to find all the paperwork shreds. I am aware of your concerns. There’s no need to get desperate. I am fully in the know that a few of you are financially in the red. I will be the first to admit that some of our acquirement of funds may have gotten a little overzealous once or twice. There’s no need to panic or worry. Even though some of you are so far in the red that a child’s melonade stand would be a safer investment, we fully intend to pay you back. Yes, provided there is anything left to give back to, we will reimburse you for every cent that we borrowed. Don’t worry, I promise.
From the desk of Geraldine Hayes.
|
|
|
Post by typeandkey on Jun 1, 2016 1:37:50 GMT
Well, yes; that’s another way of looking at it. The Layered Universe Theory (i.e. Parallel Universes) could certainly put a new perspective on your current situation. It could also explain why your other-you is such a freak of nature, or a freak of industry, considering his light bulbs and wires. Maybe both? Anyway, you remember reading something somewhere once about two notable physicists, you think their names were Max Greene and Brian Tegmark, came up with a classification system consisting of four levels and nine types. One of the possibilities was something like every universe mas a mathematical membrane stacked on top of each other. If that were the case, it would certainly fit with the theme of traveling up and down through trapdoors. How someone managed to pierce said dimensional membrane is another line of inquiry entirely. The other you finishes pulling himself up through the trapdoor while keeping a firm grip on your ankle. You feel your weight shift as he stands to his full height, lifting your leg in the process. In the blink of an eye he swings you by the leg and slams into the wall behind him. The wood splinters from the impact. Something cracks in your leg and it goes numb. Hmm? Oh, right. Eh- you’ll deal with it later. You’ve got to work this out first. [STATUS CHANGED TO INQUISITIVE]That being said, the whole parallel universe idea depends largely on whether or not String Theory is actually a thing. String Theory, a convenient back door to link Quantum Mechanics and Relativity; actually it’s more of a bridge, since it tries to link the two. Although, technically it’s more of a string considering how it works; hence the name, you suppose. As the theory goes, the universe is a series of strings that links particles together, these strings vibrate in about eleven dimensions that cannot be seen or observed. Would that mean for every two particles that are connected there are eleven different universes? That’s a lot. Then again, it’s still only a theory. A String Theory, to be precise. Considering it was devised to link Quantum Mechanics and Relativity together, one of which is still only a theory as well, some of this may not hold a lot of water. Actually, the Multiverse Theory has come under a lot of fire by the scientific community. Some detractors claim that Multiverses are a philosophical question since the concept lacks falsifiability and cannot be tested by conventional means. Others argue that a theory cannot be disproven at all if it takes into account every possible outcome. After you slide down the splintered wall and hit the floor again, the other-you pulls you to your feet. It grabs you by the arm and sinks its jagged, glowing glass teeth into it. If every possible outcome it possible, does that mean every different variation of multiverses exists too? From the neatly laid out membrane universes where they’re all stacked on one another, to the bubble universes where they intersect with one another and can actually be physically traveled to in-universe, to the black hole cosmology where the singularity inside each one is its own entire infinite universe, to the cyclic universe where the big-bang contracts into a big-crunch then explodes into another big-bang ending and restarting the universe eternally? With the universe being of infinite size, meaning an infinite amount of variables, with an infinite amount of variations for other universes, and an infinite amount of ways these universes connect; that would be infinity stacked on infinity stacked on infinity. Would the multiverse have universes that don’t have multiverses in it? Well, if every possibility is a certainty. There’s no way that could be measured. This is making your head spin. You turn to the other you. You: “Hey, do you think a theory should be discounted as being an actual science if there’s no way to test it? Even if said theory takes into account every possibility, including the possibility that it’s false?” The other-you shrugs and then dislocates your shoulder. Hmmph, big help he is. However, those same detractors that sneer at the idea of multiple universes themselves follow a number of theories that cannot be tested and treat them as fact anyway. Some of them would have their entire field of study collapse if those theories were ever proven wrong. So who are they to judge? Well, as scientists it’s their job to judge; however, down on the farm we have a little phrase that goes “the pot calling the kettle black.” And, provided these doors do link universes, you do have a way to measure it. You could simply go through each trapdoor and explore the entire universe to log all the differences. Not that you would do that. You don’t have the time or the patience for that brainy stuff. The other-you grabs you by the scruff of the neck and begins running you forward. He forces you headlong into one of the windows. The glass shatters around your face and head. [NEW ABILITY UNLOCKED]Pseudosmarts Codex: "It is the practice of many to put on an air expertise while actually knowing next to nothing about the topic being discussed. This ability allows you to put on those airs better than others. By entering into a state of deep concentration you will be able to recall the many times you spent a single hour in the library and gone on a google binge. After charging this ability you will be able to convincingly pose as someone who actually knows an iota of what they’re talking about. You will only be able to focus on one topic at a time, though. You will also be completely helpless while charging this ability and it will only last for one third of the amount of time you spent charging it. Using it too often or on unpleasant topics may lock you into a negative status for an extended period of time. Use it wisely." The other-you finally throws you to the ground again. As you lay face down on the dirt covered floor, he places his foot on your back and grabs your head with both hands. He begins to pull. Oh hey, a new ability. That’ll come in handy- POP! Your head comes off. [RELOAD]You quickly shake your head. You must have zoned out when you saw the less handsome version of yourself. Although, you feel smarter for some reason. This thing, whatever it is, clearly means to do you harm. It’s got you by the ankle and is gnashing its teeth as you! Also, that wail it made was pretty unpleasant. Still not as bad as the snakes, though. You have a distinct feeling this creature means to kill you. It claws at the wooden floor and pulls you closer. [STATUS SET BACK TO AFRAID]Okay, no need to panic. That’s a different status effect entirely. You’re just looking at a hostile entity that perverts both the laws of God and man. You still have the upper hand. You have a gun. The single most useful tool man has conceived; a tool that has built empires and then later built even larger empires on top of those smaller ones. You reach into your inventory and grasp at the pistol. You bring it out and aim it directly at the thing’s head. It sees this and begins thrashing. You: “It was snakes to meet you.” You pull the trigger to seal this monster’s fate. A small pole carrying a flag with the word “BANG” ejects out of the barrel. The pole stops after it extends fully, nowhere near reaching the creatures head to do any sort of damage. The other-you stares in disbelief as the tiny flag hangs idly in the air… Of course. Player Statistics:Status: AFRAID
Death Count: 5
Inventory: 1 can of dehydrated cans, add water for more cans 1 book (read) titled Staying Delicious: Keep Your Cool as a Fool 1 electronic codex, the learning defense is the best defense 1 legalese document 1 extend-o-grab 1 mallet 1 pistol 1 fistful of pennies 1 bunch of coupons 1 keys
Abilities: A Kall To Keys [X] Stat Tat [X] Honeyed Vinegar [X] Pseudosmarts [ ]
Brian Greene and Max Tegmark? Pffft. If you want to talk layered universe theory with the big boys, come back after you've read Michio Kaku and Leonard Susskind.
|
|