Use the spellbook of Richard M Stallman to free yourself of the proprietary binds of this mortal coil!
Reflect on the irony of my status as poster >>623 and a solely Windows user.
Actually, it's a terrible way to start. Computer science is a terrible name for this business. First of all it's not a science, it might be engineering or it might be art, but I actually see that computer so-called-science has a lot in common with magic.
conjure the spirits of the computer with our spells
Flip to a random page in Sussman's holy text and read out an incantation to bind all evil.
>>620
You approach the creature slowly, making cooing noises. It allows you to get close, but, as soon as you try to mount it, flinches away, makes a loud hissing noise, rears back and then gores you horribly through the thorax. You die painfully.
GAME OVER
Deaths: 24
(Continuing from most recent saved game: >>619)
>>621
Crouching, you reach out and cautiously lift the box of dynamite. With one violent movement, you throw the entire box at the trilobite, in response to which it begins to charge at you. The dynamite explodes on contact with the creature's head, propelling the horn in your direction at a substantial velocity. It skewers your upper neck, severing your spinal cord and killing you instantly.
GAME OVER
Deaths: 25
(Continuing from most recent saved game: >>619)
>>622
Though you cannot even see it, you guess - correctly - that the ceiling is made of rock. You transmute a clump of it, directly above the trilobite, into a hundred needles. They rain from above, but, disappointingly, bounce harmlessly from the creature's carapace. Though unharmed, it is spooked by the assault, and retreats immediately away into the darkness to the north. It has vanished before you have time to react.
>>623
Well, that particular potential mount may be gone, but you know for certain there's another three just a single short diving trip away. You don your equipment, gather your paraphernalia, take a deep breath and make the return trip. You resurface back in the cloning facility. The three trilobites are not far in front of you, one curiously nudging open a cloning pod using its horn, the other two standing by and watching. Realising now how easily startled they are, you realise that this will require some tact on your part.
You gently begin to levitate (why, you almost forgot you had that ability!) and silently float over towards the three of them. You leave the dynamite on top of a nearby pod, anticipating a violent response to your next action. Finally, heart pounding, you pounce onto the one on the right, which is a little further separated from the rest.
You successfully avoid catching yourself on the dorsal spines, and land just behind the cephalon. You immediately grasp both librigena - conveniently placed as they are on either side of the head - and thus are able to avoid its bucking and struggling. As it hisses, stamps and whips back and forth, its two companions hiss and run away, one back into the southeast tunnel where it came from, the other to the northeast.
After only a few seconds, the trilobite apparently accepts its new position and ceases struggling. It lowers its head and hisses submissively.
>>624
You make a mental note to ruthlessly murder any wildebeest cigarettes that dare cross paths with you.
>>625
You are dubious about this so-called spellbook, considering that you've done plenty of magic already without resorting to any stereotypical musty tomes at all. There don't seem to be any books about anyway, arcane or otherwise.
>>626
You're not sure if it classes as irony, but you do think that exclusively using windows sounds rather silly, when most buildings are much more easily accessible through their doors.
>>627
You decide that you had best make a good first impression with your new steed, and for this reason you certainly shouldn't confuse or frighten it by describing your current quest as computer science. It might be vaguely scientific, but it doesn't have much to do with computers, after all. Rather, it is a magical adventure of discovery, Machiavellianism and murder. What fun your new pet is in for!
>>628
By clamping your legs in closer, you manage to will the trilobite (you really need to come up with a name for him/her, you tell yourself) forwards, towards Conundrum-chan's office. You pass by the room you were locked in, noting that the three dreamers are no longer there, nor is Stove Stove. Finally, you charge into the office, focussed squarely on the cloning console, of which you intend to summon the spirits.
The room is not empty - far from it, in fact - and the current residents are more than a little surprised to see you enter on trilobiteback. "Aaaaaaaaargh!" screams Conundrum-chan. "Whaaaaaaaargh!" screams Alexei. "Blaaaaaaaargh!" screams Aaron. Jacqueline cowers behind Alexei's back. Stove Stove shakes violently. Your mount impales the CRT monitor of the console on its horn, causing the image to die in shower of sparks. The trilobite stamps its feet and hisses triumphantly.
This might make spirit conjugation a little difficult, you reflect. Maybe you should've put more skillpoints into technomancy.
>>629
You aren't sure who this man of Suss is or what texts he might or might not have written, but you'd be very cautious about "binding all evil" given how many ethically questionable decisions you personally have made in your life.
Ask the screaming people whether "wildebeest" or "brontosaurus" is a more hilarious word.
name the trilobte "Dr. Gay Hitler"
Make sure that Dr. Gay Hitler gets a snappy pink uniform ASAP.
vc: hell
Ram Stove Stove with Dr. Gay Hitler repeatedly.
Sing Rams' "Pizza Forever" while you ram.
Goad trilobite into killing everyone in the room so you can pee without anyone watching you.
Pee on trilobite.
Wake up.
Pee in one of the drawers before the others wake up.
Go find some water to drink.
>>632
"Aaaaaaaaargh!" replies Conundrum-chan. "Whaaaaaaaargh!" replies Alexei. "Brontosaurus!" replies Aaron.
>>633
You name your brave steed in memory of a famous twentieth century dictator, whilst acknowledging its relative lightheartedness and gaiety. You simultaneously bestow upon it a PhD in honour of its outstanding work in the field of being ridden by you - a rare privilege indeed.
>>634
Unfortunately, the only clothing nearby is already being worn. There isn't any suitable cloth from which you could fabricate a uniform either. Jacqueline's frilly pink dress seems perfect for the job, but she won't part with it willingly, and Alexei will probably complain as well. Alternatively, of course, you could just disembowel a few of these screaming mooks and dress Dr. Gay Hitler in their intestines.
You settle for a simpler option: you remove your own pantsu - which are pink, with a fetching seigaiha pattern printed on top - and place them over Dr. Gay Hitler's antenna. It's not much of a uniform, but it'll have to do.
>>635,636
The others have by this point begun to stop screaming. Conundrum-chan is wielding your geologist's hammer, Alexei his own white energy weapon, and Jacqueline your stone sickle. The three have backed into one corner, sheltering behind Stove Stove, weapons at the ready. Aaron is standing to one side with a bewildered half-smile on his face.
"Spaghetti... macaroni... mortadella... tortellini... mozzarella!" you chant, in what might be the strangest battle cry you've heard in a while. On "mozzarella", you dig your legs into Dr. Gay Hitler's sides and he charges forwards, monitor and all, towards that accursed stone cube. Just as they are about to meet, Stove Stove shakes violently and your steed vanishes entirely. You are left hovering in midair.
Aaron lunges forwards and embraces you tightly, telling you how glad he is that you're alive and how you'll always be his beloved daughter, and so on. The other three stare at you, weapons still at the ready. Finally, he releases you.
>>637
At that moment your dear trilobite, headwear and all, sticks his cephalon around the doorframe, hisses uncertainly, and retreats back again. Apparently he was simply teleported outside the room. Apparently he is also a coward, as he ignores your instructions to brutally murder everyone in the room (hopefully not including you) and instead splashes away to hide amongst the cloning pods.
You begin to run after him to punish him with some urinary castigation, but Conundrum-chan - whilst calling out "Oh no you don't!" - grabs you from behind, lifts you into the air, and busts your spine. You are in too much pain and shock to retaliate, but at least you don't pass out, so you don't have to wake up from it. Everyone else is quite awake and staring at you. You can't pee in any drawers like this.
Conundrum-chan sits on your chest, pinning you to the ground, leans over you and begins to lecture you sternly. "Right, listen up, because this is important. Since I put you in the simulation, about two or three days have passed, and in that time the sun never rose. The moon still seems to be rising and setting normally. Undead grunts have been continually crawling from the forest. They... they won't die. Until now I've just been throwing them into the river, and they get washed away, but they won't die, no matter what I do."
She takes a deep breath, regains her composure, then continues: "I tried using cloned grunts as meatshields, but every one that dies adds to their ranks, so I stopped. When I woke up this... most recently, I found that all the cloning pods were empty. I don't know how it happened; I was asleep in front of the console the whole time. After that you escaped, and then I woke up the other three" - she waves a hand in their direction - "So we can work out what to do next together." Rather than reply, you gaze longingly at the cool, refreshing water outside.
You note in passing that not once did she mention the loss of her eye.
Admit defeat, express willingness to put our differences behind us and work together to stop the grunts. Suggest stopping the undead with reverse ailuromantic weather prediction.
AH NU CHEEKI BREEKI
use geomancy to tunnel ourselves into an underground shelter, then have jack summon a cat, and throw stones at it while using reverse ailuromantic weather prediction to cause a shower of meteorites
emerge from the shelter years later and become the ruler of the wastes
Is Jack even here? I thought Conundrum-chan was Jack's clone. Or vice versa. I'm so confused about the plot right now.
Find out if Ao Oni is still alive in this version of the universe.
>>639
In an uncharacteristically submissive manner, you make an effort to integrate into and work together with the group in the interests of self preservation. When it comes to tactics, you suggest reverse ailuromantic weather prediction, but nobody seems to have any idea what you're talking about. The only local ailuromancer is, of course, your foster sister, Jack Aaronova, whom you haven't seen since helping defend her camp against the assault by Theodore's Church of the Schismatics.
>>640
Oh no! You forgot about that cheeky brook/creek (breek?) - the Palriga Canal! If you aren't careful, it'll flood the entire cloning facility with delicious, crisp, refreshing water. Also undead might get in that way. You lead the group out into the main room. Dr. Gay Hitler is still here, hiding unsubtly behind a cloning pod, with his antenna and monitor-adorned horn quite obviously sticking out.
You stop suddenly as you see a human figure crouched in the darkness at the mouth of the Palriga. As soon as they catch sight of you they yelp and stand up straight. Jack Aaronova, of all people, emerges from the shadows. She is dressed in a makeshift plate armour composed of what appear to be segments of one of the giant trilobites you saw earlier. She is absolutely covered in blood. You've never seen so much blood at once. It's caked onto her skin, clinging to her hair, splashed all over her clothing, and especially thick on the ceremonial stone knife she's gripping in her right hand.
She jabs the knife into the air in front of her, towards Alexei, looking quite aghast, stammering "Y-you're dead! I saw you explode! How are you alive‽" Come to think of it, how is he alive after that? Conundrum-chan chuckles to herself, and says it's "her little secret", or at any rate, it is of no consequence now. Jack Aaronova is not amused.
>>641
Unfortunately, the only way you could use your geomancy to dig is through stone morphing (active skill). With your remaining 80 mana, you could only afford to dig away four kilograms of stone, which would be a rather poor excuse for a shelter. Actually, the two adjacent rooms here - the one you were locked in and the one with the cloning console - would form decent emergency shelters; no tunnelling required.
You are now playing as Jack Aaronova.
You summon Theodore - who is still curled around your neck, in a comfortable crook above the top segment of your armour, hidden under all the blood and hair. He appears reticent at the prospect of jumping into the water flooding the floor, so you, along with the group, return to Conundrum-chan's office, where you set down Theodore. He immediately begins grooming himself with his tongue, but all Great Neptune's ocean wouldn't wash that much blood from his fur.
You spend 125 mana invoking inverse ailuromantic weather prediction (active skill) on Theodore. You begin to throw rocks - which, conveniently, you happened to have with you - at him. He scampers here and there, but the others, being in on the plan, prevent him from leaving the room. "DAMN YOU, HUMAN! I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING!" he shouts at you telepathically. The effect elapses without Theodore suffering more than one or two grazing strikes and severely injured pride.
You think staying in this room for several years sounds deathly boring, even if you get to be a ruler afterwards. Nonetheless, you don't plan to visit the surface any time soon.
>>642
You are fairly certain that you are here. You aren't sure why everyone else is here, least of all the exploded Alexei. And you don't trust that clone of yourself. She clearly knows more than she's telling.
>>643
You cannot see any blue demons from where you are. Of course, you've no chance of finding him now that you're actively looking for him; everyone knows Ao Oni always comes when you least expect it.
At that moment there's a loud bang and a dull rumble from somewhere far above. "Is that...?" begins Ariadne. "That's probably the barricade breaking, yes." replies Conundrum-chan coolly.
Play rock-paper-scissors to decide who goes to check on the barricade.
Give princess water.
Wash blood off of self.
Determine if you are thirsty.
If thirsty, seek more water to drink while you have time.
If unthirsty, seek a quiet area to pee to avoid an embarrassing incident when the next blood-caking battler inevitably drags on all day.
If interrupted by attackers, resign self reluctantly to battle-related omorashi.
Demand answers from Conundrum-chan.
Find Rupert. The presence of a Brobdingnagian brontosaurus is sorely needed in this story.
Demand answers from Rupert.
Demand answers from Dr. Gay Hitler.
Demand answers from dokyuns.
Be dokyuns, give answers to Dr. Gay Hitler et al.
Order a copy of Doku Doku Ryouki Zukan.
Be Dr. Gay Hitler, job change to red mage.
Be DQN, demand answers from faghodge et al.
>>645
With a confident smirk, you gather everyone but Theodore around and whisper your plan into their eager ears. Reintegrating the feline into the group, you suggest a simple game of luck to choose who has to investigate the noise. You all chant "Jan, ken, pon!" and, on "pon", unfold your fists to form flat sheets (apart from Stove Stove, who is composed entirely of flat sheets anyway). Theodore looks down at his extended paw, mews in unhappy subjugation, then pads away out of the room and up the spiral staircase to the surface.
>>646
You can't find any princesses. You yourself are probably the closest, being a high priestess, but you don't particularly need any water just now.
Being unexpectedly amongst fine society (relatively speaking), you feel acutely underdressed. You descend to the water level and begin attempting to clean your incarnadine attire and body. The water nearby is stained quite dramatically, with clouds of bloody dirt blooming, dispersing and settling all around you. You manage to get some of the fresher stains off, but remain quite unambiguously sanguinary.
You are not thirsty. Well, perhaps a little bloodthirsty, but, I mean, we're all like that all the time, aren't we? You don't particularly need to pee either; in fact, you just went before you got here.
>>647
"You!" you demand, pointing menacingly at your clone, "Spill your secrets, doppelgänger! Why is the physicist still in one piece‽" She appears somewhat taken aback, then admits that she just used her teleportation (other)(active skill) to teleport him - at the last second before he was consumed by the explosion - into a room off the main corridor of the white building nearby. She then went in, subdued him, took him downstairs and plugged him into the simulation. Cunning.
>>648
You are unexpectedly thrown by an immense wave of loneliness. You feel the need for comfort that only an even larger sauropod can provide. You begin to ascend the steps towards the place you last saw him. There are various echoing thumps and smacking noises, along with a prolonged yowling. Theodore passes by you at high speed, heading downwards. As you turn one more revolution, you are confronted with a wall of human bodies - or parts thereof - forming one continuous, groping mass of discoloured flesh. You try to back away, but are too slow, and are caught by the flesh.
>>649
Why have you forsaken me, Rupert‽" you entreat. He does not respond. The pile of undead flesh consumes you like some sort of macabre phagocytosis. You suffocate in the midst of the cold, contorted blob.
GAME OVER
Deaths: 26
(Continuing from most recent saved game: >>656)
>>650
You turn to the flamboyant yet coy trilobite and demand loudly that he explain precisely what he thinks he's doing. He rears up on his hind legs and waves his forelegs and antennae while nodding his horn up and down in an ambiguous gesture. You become aware of a slow rumbling sound coming from the staircase.
>>651
You cannot find any dokyuns. The rumbling increases in volume, and Theodore emerges and scampers over to cower behind your legs.
>>652
You cannot be dokyuns; you can only play as members of your current party.
You give Dr. Gay Hitler - and anyone else who will listen - answers to no questions in particular: yes, no, maybe, nineteen, it doesn't exist, perhaps, no, no, no, maybe, strawberry, yes, they call it that for a reason, impossible, no.
>>653
At that moment, perhaps in response to your order and perhaps not, a huge gory mass of mostly dismembered human bodies pours out from the staircase to the surface. It spreads into the water and then slowly draws to a halt. Your party assumes battle positions, weapons at the ready, with the exception of Aaron, Theodore and Dr. Gay Hitler, who are all too busy hiding awkwardly behind cloning pods.
>>654
You are now playing as Dr. Gay Hitler. You aren't sure what your job is, or what a red mage is. In fact, you understand almost nothing about your current situation. You are quite scared.
>>655
Perhaps, you consider, being a stereotypical young Japanese delinquent might help, somehow. Unfortunately, you don't have any hair which you could dye blonde, nor are there nearby stores to fail to shoplift from, nor do you speak any Japanese or have any understanding of Japanese internet culture. You don't even know who Faghodge et al. is.
The mass of flesh disgorges a single animate corpse - a thoroughly exenterated grunt with its intestines hanging loosely from its abdomen, and, unusually enough, its head encased in solid basalt. Ariadne and Conundrum-chan appear taken aback, apparently recognising the figure now lumbering steadily towards them. The flesh continues to writhe and pulsate, threatening to disgorge more.
Be Aaron. Kill the mass of flesh WITH FIRE, just like Aya Drevis would have done.
DRR DRR DRR
Be Jack. Kill any survivors with pantsu.
Be Ariadne. Stab things with rock weapons.
>>658
You are now playing as Aaron Aaronovitch Aaronov.
Just like your favourite cute chainsaw wielding eleven year old, your first instinct when confronted with a mass of undead flesh is to burn it; burn it all, until nothing is left. With no time to lose, you rush into Conundrum-chan's office and retrieve - still there untouched since >>482 - the petrol canister, box of matches, and a single Kendal mint cake.
You reemerge to find Conundrum-chan and Ariadne already locked in battle with the basalt-headed grunt, Ariadne attacking with her handmade stone hammer and Conundrum-chan with the geologist's hammer she confiscated earlier. They appear to be aiming to debilitate it but keep it in one piece, rather than simply cutting it into smaller, still active pieces. Jacqueline distracts it by tapping it on the back of the head with the pommel of her stone sickle then retreating out of reach, allowing the other two to attack unimpeded. Alexei is unable to help, as his energy weapon would cause too much collateral damage.
You approach the flesh, getting as close as you can without being at risk of being grabbed and pulled in, and slosh petrol liberally all over the near side of the pile. The characteristic smell of mid-length hydrocarbons soon fills the air. The throbbing motion towards the top of the mass grows more violent, and, finally, there emerges the upper half of a girl's body - not a grunt, like the rest of the corpses. You recognise her as the girl in the wheelchair you met back at >>307.
She casts a cold glare at you all through unblinking eyes, and her bloodless lips twist into a lopsided smirk. "My my, so this is where you've all been hiding, is it?" She singles out Jack Aaronova and her smile dissolves. "You've broken your promise, High Priestess. You know the consequences. Frankly I don't give a damn about your precious living playmates, but unless you give yourself up now they'll end up getting... involved." Jack doesn't move. Her eyes then shoot to the top of a nearby cloning pod, where Theodore is trying to surreptitiously make his escape. "And the same goes for you, High Priest. You've been playing with fire."
She apparently hasn't noticed that the pile of undead she's half-buried in is covered in petrol. Having been undead quite a while now, her olfactory capacities probably aren't what they used to be. With only minor difficulty, you light a corner of the Kendal mint cake, and throw it into the heart of the flesh mass. The vapours ignite with a loud bang, and a wreath of fire engulfs the whole thing. A chorus of screams and moans rises from the burning pile. Thick billows of smoke begin to form and spread along the ceiling. There is an appalling smell of burning flesh.
>>659
Whilst disaster risk reduction is a good method of improving wide-scale resilience in the face of natural disasters, the current disaster you face is of a decidedly unnatural bent.
>>660
You are now playing as Jack Aaronova.
Thanks to Ariadne and Conundrum-chan's work, the basalt headed grunt is now just twitching face down in the water, unable to support itself on its horribly mangled limbs. The flesh mass seems too busy screaming in pain to attack you.
The attackers are all quite clearly dead (and were to begin with) so the only survivors of the attack are the group you were already a part of. You don't trust them, however, and feel that now, when they are likely complacent with victory, is the perfect time to show your true colours, by garrotting them with a pair of pantsu - for instance, those on Dr. Gay Hitler's head. You quietly approach him and try to take them, but he seems to have grown fond of his uniform, and resists violently. He whacks you in the head - your one unarmoured part - with the CRT monitor on his horn, then impales you on the end. You die.
GAME OVER
Deaths: 27
(Continuing from most recent saved game: >>662)
>>661
You are now playing as Ariadne Aaronova.
The only rock weapon you're currently armed with is your stone hammer, which isn't much good for stabbing. You try to persuade Jack Aaronova to part with her ceremonial knife - which she vehemently refuses - then instead settle for sharpening the hilt of your hammer using stone sharpening (active skill), setting you back by ten mana. You have seventy mana remaining.
You gleefully stab the floor, wall, door, cloning pods, Dr. Gay Hitler's CRT monitor, Dr. Gay Hitler himself (without penetrating his carapace), and the still moving remains of the basalt headed grunt. You feel better for it.
The fire atop the flesh mass is starting to go out. It seems to have changed shape, with the leading edge having stretched forwards into the water. The undead girl is now at the front, mostly submerged and no longer burning. She lifts her head, her skin burnt and discoloured and barely clinging to her face, and mutters to herself "...ieces of shit... I'd hoped it wouldn't come to this, but I suppose I have to return to..."
In mid-sentence, her body contorts violently, limbs elongating, bifurcating and branching, as her hair falls out and her head atrophies away into a single, toothy maw. Her body swells into a formless, bloated, pulsating blob. In seconds she has metamorphosed into a large undead tentacle monster, appendages groping in your direction. She seems to be aiming for Jack Aaronova, but she has more than enough tentacles for all of you.
Turn the situation into an advertisement for Tentacle Grape brand soda.
make an outdated memetic reference
mongle some cock
happily grab a woman's breasts
Continue Masturbation!!!
poop
>>664
Tearing away the fourth wall like tissue paper, you turn to face the reader and tell them that at the end of a long, tiring day of murder and evil, you like nothing better than a cool, refreshing bottle of Tentacle Grape brand soda. The sensation of that sugary purple elixir slipping deep inside you is second to none. You express hope that the reader will soon be joining you in the slimy, acetabuliferous grip of Tentacle Grape's customership, before pulling a bottle of the said substance from behind your back and taking a healthy swig. You exhale loudly, flash the reader a winning smile, and wink exaggeratedly.
The approaching undead tentacle monster, perhaps unappreciative of your disrespectful portrayal of her kind, grabs you by every limb, lifts you from the ground, dangles your head into her enormous toothy mouth, and bites down hard. Your neck is severed entirely.
GAME OVER
Deaths: 28
(Continuing from most recent saved game: >>663)
>>665
"All your base are belong to us!" you exclaim gleefully. This is not true. You don't know where the undead base(s) are, and you have no particular claim to any area of land that could even potentially fit the bill.
>>666
You can't find any cockerels here. The closest you know of is Reginald the red bird, who is currently - my god! He's perched on the box of dynamite that you left on top of a cloning pod to the southeast. That could be dangerous. Unfortunately, there's a lot of tentacles and badly burnt - but still animate and full of hatred for the living - undead separating you from him.
>>667
As Jack Aaronova's chest is shielded by her trilobite armour, you aren't particularly fond of Jacqueline, and the other girl has spontaneously turned into a tentacle monster, you settle for groping Jack Conundrum-chan's delightfully small, soft, delicate breasts. She squeals, wriggles free and says "Not now, Ariadne!" You suddenly come to your senses and realise that you've done something inappropriately intimate with Conundrum-chan again. You blush violently, realising with shame how much you've complicated your relationship with her once again.
Then again, she only said not now, not never... Perhaps...
>>668
You call upon the tentacle monster by name. She stops and looks straight at you (possibly; it's hard to tell when she doesn't have any eyes) for a few seconds, tentacles poised uncertainly in the air. "Now, while it's distracted!" Aaron shouts to Alexei, who is currently aiming his energy weapon squarely at Continue-chan. He squeezes the trigger and a few sparks spit feebly from the end, but nothing further happens.
"Dammit!" curses Alexei, grabbing Jacqueline's wrist and making a run for the northwest tunnel, apparently abandoning the rest of you to Masturbation's wrath. You and Conundrum-chan - but probably not the others - know that that tunnel ends in a magma pool, and is likely a dead end, unless the lift to Theodore's chamber above has another exit you don't know about.
>>669
Your parcopresis forbids it.
Apologize to Continue-chan.
Hand over the bottle of Tentacle Grape as a peace offering.
The only thing standing between you and a satisfying poop is this tentacle monster and all of these supposed allies.
It's simple, crush the head and spine of the girl at the center of the tentacle mass.
>>671
"I-I'm sorry, Continue-chan!" you stammer. You aren't sure what you're sorry for; she's the one trying to kill all of you, after all. She continues to hesitate where she is, tentacles aquiver. Jack Aaronova and Theodore are similarly frozen in place, not daring to take their eyes off her. Alexei and Jacqueline escape up the northwest tunnel and disappear from view. Aaron and Conundrum-chan alternate between staring at you expectantly and watching Continue-chan for signs of movement.
>>672
You find in your left hand a vaguely suggestively named carbonated beverage which you don't remember acquiring. You stare at it dumbly for a second. What is it? Where did it come from? Why is it in your hand? At any rate, the name seems portentous. You step forwards cautiously, holding it out in one hand. Continue-chan makes a high pitched wailing noise and smacks it violently from your hand with one swing of a tentacle. It flies across the room and shatters against the wall.
The same tentacle returns in a backswing and strikes you in the upper body. You are thrown aside to land, on your back, in the water between two pods. You are slightly winded, but only your pride is seriously hurt. Continue-chan, still screaming, advances towards Jack Aaronova. She, in turn, holds her ground, gripping her ceremonial knife readily.
>>674
Continue-chan's new physiology is a little confusing. The part with the mouth must be the head, you suppose, but there's no indication of other sensory organs, nor any visible separation from the rest of the body. You highly doubt that she's still a vertebrate, and, judging by the fluid pulsating motions of her central mass, doubt she has any skull to crush either. There doesn't seem to be girl at the centre, unless you mean in a metaphorical sense.
But now is no time for anatomical semantics! You charge in, swinging your stone hammer recklessly, hoping to crush something vital. Continue-chan doesn't even break her stride as she again knocks you aside with one tentacle. This time your head collides with a cloning pod, knocking you unconscious.
You awaken in Conundrum-chan's office. Conundrum-chan herself is standing over you, a concerned look on her face. Her countenance visibly lightens as she sees you're awake. Also in the room are Jack Aaronova, Theodore and Stove Stove - but, notably, neither Aaron nor Dr. Gay Hitler. There is a deafening banging on the door. Despite it being made of solid steel and an entire shelf having been moved and propped in front of it, it sounds ready to break down.
"T-there's only one way to atone for... it." mutters Jack Aaronova, almost ashamedly, half to herself. "Christmas." she adds solemnly.
Command Continue (or whoever else might be banging on the door) to halt in the name of Yoghurt-Sweettooth.
Sing merrily, "We wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!"
pick nose
>>676
"In the name of Yoghurt-Sweettooth, I order thee to be still!" you shout in the general direction of the banging. The banging redoubles in intensity, and an unmistakeably Continue-like screech rises from the other side. The shelf leaning against the wall is now visibly shaking, and dust is falling from the ceiling. Shockingly, it seems even the elder god Sweettooth holds no dominion over her.
>>677
In the most irreverent manner imaginable, you sing facetiously about that darkest and most unspeakable of rituals: christmas. You even have the temerity to wish Jack a "happy new year", as though she has any chance of living to see the next year, or indeed has any chance of being happy ever again after having offended the gods. She stares at you, shocked into silence. A single tear traces its way down one of her cheeks.
>>678
After comparing the various olfactory organs present, you choose Conundrum-chan's nose as being the most appealing. I mean, technically, She and Jack Aaronova are clones, so their noses are identical and all, but Conundrum-chan's just has a certain je ne sais quoi about it that makes it so much more attractive. You sigh in longing at the sight of its gently rolling curves and graceful almond shaped nostrils.
You hear a vociferation from outside - a girl's voice. You can only barely make it out from over Continue-chan's continued assault, but something about the sound makes the hair on the back of your neck rise. Who is that?
The banging stops abruptly. There are a few splashes, followed by a long, ominous silence. Without consulting any of you, Conundrum-chan immediately begins shifting the shelf back out of the way, clearing the way to the door.
List party skills and status.
List laws and mores violated by the party up until this point.
List party's political affiliations.
>>680
Since your brush with amnesia, you have gained the following skills:
You have other skills, such as levitation, but you can't quite remember all of them. You have in your inventory nothing but a makeshift stone hammer with a sharpened hilt, and the frilly dress you are wearing. You have level eight geokinesis and seventy mana.
Jack Aaronova has the following skills:
She has in her inventory the tattered remains of a seifuku, a suit of plate armour made of trilobite carapace, an incredibly bloody ceremonial stone knife, five mushrooms of various different species, and four strips of smoked trilobite meat. She has level seven ailuromacy, three unspent skillpoints, and 260 mana.
Jack Conundrum-chan currently has far, far too many skills; more specifically:
She currently has in her inventory a well worn labcoat, a ball point pen, a bottle of water and a geologist's hammer. She has level twelve telekinesis, level nine pyromancy, level six healing, level five necromancy, level five thaumaturgy, level one matrimony, and three unspent skillpoints. She has zero mana.
Stove Stove currently has the following skills:
They have level eight telekinesis, level one matrimony and 99,729 mana.
And last but not least, Theodore currently has the following skills:
He has level one aerokinesis, level two hypnosis and 45 mana.
Jacqueline, Alexei, Dr. Gay Hitler, Rupert and Reginald are also potentially playable members of your party, but, as they aren't present, they've missed out on the skill/status checking fun.
>>681
You are all castaways in a wild and lawless land. There are no rules to break. You are not in Rome; you cannot do as the Romans do - nor, by extension, can you not do as the Romans do. You are the Romans now. Even the unspoken social norms, expectations and taboos are unsettled. Your very actions now are creating the laws which members of a future society may go on to break.
>>682
Apart from a few vaguely pacifist or bellicist sentiments, your society lacks the political framework to even have affiliations.
While you've been busy with your head in the clouds, Conundrum-chan has finished unbarricading the door. It swings open quietly to reveal Continue-chan, half on the raised walkway before the door and half in the water below, surrounded on all sides by roughly a hundred clones of Jack. They are all wearing rather fetching knee-length dresses of varying colours and styles, but are otherwise identical. They stand in a semicircle of twenty metre radius, centred on Continue-chan, with placid smiles on their faces. The tentacle monster in question is frozen in place - cornered, but far from defeated.
change political affiliation to Islamic State, declare ourself caliph
Be Jack Aaronova.
Put remaining skill points into Aerokinesis.
Sneak up behind Jack Conundrum, summon fog to cloak our sneak attack, then stab her in the back with the ceremonial stone knife repeatedly. Use new Aerokinesis skills to make a temporary retreat if the attack fails.
commit anal deification
Evil Hina? (Thinks of Hina evil) this song makes me think
>>687
There are no states - Islamic or otherwise - to swear allegiance to. You cannot become caliph without undergoing the proper shura process.
>>688
You are now playing as Jack Aaronova.
You increase your aerokinesis level to six, unlocking the following skills:
Having a single clone was a little disconcerting, but this crowd outside is simply a Jack too far. You feel like if you don't do something to cull the population then you'll lose all sense of identity. Though you harbour no particular ill will towards her, Conundrum-chan is the closest Jack, and seems an easy target, being distracted by the ruckus outside.
With a wave of your hand, a thick, damp fog suddenly precipitates out from thin air. It's thicker than you expected. To your dismay, your quarry utters a startled cry and, by the sounds of it, moves from where she was. You manage one solid thrust into where her back last was - stabbing only air - before being grasped around the midriff by a pair of tentacles and plucked from the room. The hunter has become the hunted! In a panic you summon some gusts of air, but Continue-chan's grip is unassailable. Between this and summoning the fog, you have spent 70 mana, leaving 190 remaining.
After a disconcerting transition, you find yourself suspended upside down over Continue-chan's open mouth. You see Conundrum-chan, Ariadne and Theodore rush out from the fog filled room. Another tentacle shoots out and ensnares Theodore, but the other two are spared. With a lurch, Continue-chan starts to the east, perhaps heading for the staircase to the surface.
At that moment, a loud cry comes from somewhere in the north, behind the Jacks - an unplaceable, vaguely androgynous voice - commanding: "Advance! Commence hugging!" The Jacks charge bravely, arms outstretched, eyes bright and mouths open in inarticulate expressions of delight. The tentacles throw back many, but for every Jack that falls two more step forth to try to wrap their arms around Continue-chan's central body. She is soon inundated, embraced tightly from every side, unable to do more than wave the tips of a few tentacles. She screeches in frustration.
A quick look around reveals that the others are not exempt from the onslaught of cuddles. Conundrum-chan and Ariadne are held in place by three Jacks each. Conundrum-chan looks vaguely uncomfortable. Ariadne tries to maintain her composure, but soon submits and hugs them back, eyes closed in warm ecstasy.
>>689
You say a silent prayer to the great anus in the sky, whoever, wherever and whatever it may be.
>>690
You begin to contemplate the moral state of a certain Kagiyama Hina, goddess of misfortune and resident of the Great Youkai Forest. Despite her ominous appearance, she is presented as an upstanding and morally good person, selflessly seeking to keep humans from bad luck. But what if your first impression were right, and she really is evil? I mean, she does fire quite a bit of danmaku at you without much warning (though that's standard fare for Gensokyo) and she does impede you from reaching your goal of the Moriya Shrine at the top of the mountain (though probably not knowingly). You slowly conclude that there isn't much evidence for the evil Hina theory.
Your musings are interrupted by a Jack wearing a cute stripy red dress climbing up to your position, pulling you - tentacle and all - down to the ground, and embracing you warmly. Several more join her and before you know it you too are incapacitated by the hugs.
Everyone: sing the hugging song, which goes like this:
Hug hug hug, hug hug hug.
Hug hug hug hug hug hug hug!
Hug hug hug, hug.
Hug? Hug.
Hug hug hug, hug hug hug.
I can't help but have a really bad feeling about this.
>>692
Succumbing to the gentle, welcoming sensation of skinship, you begin to sing the word "hug" over and over again. The Jacks eagerly join in, chanting along in a merry chorus, past the point of semantic satiation, until all you're doing is contorting your lips and flicking your tongue in a way that happens to make a noise. Continue-chan, meanwhile, is still struggling and screeching with increasing frustration.
>>693
You can't help but have a warm, fuzzy feeling about this. But under this lurks a vague sense of malaise. Perhaps it's to do with the fact that you can't move at all; even if you could persuade the Jacks hugging you to let go, Continue-chan's tentacle is still firmly gripping your abdomen. You'll need to employ some real cunning if you're to make it out of this one. Or maybe just stab everyone/thing with your stone knife. Whatever works.
Spend mana to heat the air around us by 80 Kelvin. Assuming our general vicinity is at room temperature (~293K) this should be enough to raise the air to boiling (373K). and thus make us too hot to hug or grip with tentacles. When the tentacles and Jack let go, go on a Jack-stabbing spree.
put all the skillpoints gained from the clone murdering spree into matrimony
Marry all the dead clones
>>695
Itching to try out your newfound aerokinesis powers, you turn the local volume of air into a nice toasty sauna. You thereby raise the air quite some way past its boiling point (which is roughly 77 kelvin) and successfully become ungraspable. There is an audible hiss from the water at your feet. Nearby Jacks wail in pain and surprise, while Continue-chan's screaming rises to an even higher volume and pitch. Tentacles and arms alike flinch away. You are, however, not immune to your own artifice, and are thrown off a little by the sudden flash of hot air on your skin. You have spent 160 mana, leaving 30 remaining.
You half dodge, half stumble northwards, only to trip over a fallen Jack and end up face down in the water. A tentacle lashes out towards you, but a Jack wearing a polka dot purple and white dress selflessly throws herself in its path, saving you. In recompense, you literally stab her in the back, along with two of her comrades. The nearby Jacks make distressed noises and stop trying to hug you, but don't let go of Continue-chan. The free tentacles continue to grasp for you relentlessly, but you manage to stay out of reach.
For killing three sapient beings in a ritualistic manner, you have gained three skillpoints and 150 mana.
>>696
Matrimony is not an available skill. Available skills are instead aerokinesis, geokinesis, biokinesis, hypnosis, technomancy and ailuromancy.
>>697
Despite your amorous advances, your dead potential fiancées stubbornly refuse to say the all-important "I do". You feel a little dejected.
The same voice which gave the order to advance comes again, from the northeast, this time commanding "Retreat! Retreat!". This poses somewhat of a problem. If the Jacks retreat, you will be lose your all important meat shields, not to mention your easiest source of skill points, mana and possible spouses.
Put skill points into aerokinesis and summon a badass storm around the perimeter to block Jacks' retreats.
>>699
You throw all three skillpoints into aerokinesis, unlocking the following skills:
Variable area of effect (passive skill): All aerokinesis skills with an area of effect can be used at any scale, with mana cost proportional to radius.
The Jacks, in unison, release their grips and begin to run away towards the northeast tunnel. In the interests of badassness, you go all out and spend 150 mana on summoning an immense fifty metre diameter vortex. Immediately the wind begins to howl, waves pick up on the surface of the water, the lights suspended overhead begin to sway, and everyone around you stumbles and tries to brace themselves against the unexpected tempest.
Ariadne grasps Conundrum-chan's hand and the two pull themselves towards the opening of the southwest tunnel, which is flooded. Continue-chan similarly pulls herself using her tentacles, against the wind, into the doorway leading to the spiral staircase upwards. She gives one last vindictive screech and vanishes inside, Theodore still in her grasp. The Jacks cry out in terror, huddle together in small groups, or attempt to find shelter between - or even inside - the cloning pods. Though one or two slip through, there is no sign of any sort of organised retreat.
Your storm will only last a little longer, after which you could possibly head northeast to investigate the mysterious voice commanding the Jacks, or northwest after Alexei and Jacqueline, or southwest after Ariadne and Conundrum-chan, or upstairs after Continue-chan and Theodore. You aren't sure where Aaron and Dr. Gay Hitler have gotten to, but you could certainly go looking for them as well.
Murder all the Jacks for those juicy experience points and mana, then go northeast to investigate.
Murder the Jacks by ritualistically stabbing them in the back, using atmospheric heat to subdue them if necessary.
Grumpy wizards make toxic brew for the evil queen and Jack.
Gaze at my five whipped Jacks in the liquor box.
>>701,702
Striking from amidst the gale like a forgotten coursework deadline at the end of term, you descend upon a lone Jack and brutally stab her in the upper spine, chanting wildly as loud as you can. She collapses forwards, dead, releasing to you two skill points and a hundred mana. All Jacks nearby scream and try to run away like a startled flock. You manage a few grazing slashes, but are able to catch and ritualistically murder only one more before the vortex weakens and disperses.
Despite their ditzy demeanour, they turn out to be surprisingly well coordinated when it comes to evading being murdered. They hide frustratingly just out of sight behind the cloning pods, slipping in and out of your peripheral vision, making feints and generally being anywhere but on the end of your knife. You can't even use your aerokinesis powers to stop them as you aren't sure where they are. Before you know it, they have all escaped in one direction or another, and you are alone in the vast room. It suddenly becomes a very quiet and lonely place.
For killing two sapient beings in a ritualistic manner, you have gained four skillpoints and 200 mana.
You head to the northeast, where the mouth of the Palriga is and where you heard that odd voice commanding the Jacks, but find nobody there. The tunnel opening looms wide and dark before you. Continuing your investigation, you head inside. There are many thin, winding tunnels, some running with water and others not, all in pitch darkness. As your eyes adjust you notice a faint glow to the south. You head towards it, eventually finding yourself in some sort of large underground forest, not unlike the one seen back at >>616.
You turn your head to one side and are startled to find a person standing right next to you, half a metre away at most. You cannot see them well in the faint light of the glowing fungus, but they are rather tall, dressed in something white and close fitting, and you can't quite work out whether they're male or female. "Would you like a hug?" they offer in an androgynous voice - the same one you were seeking.
>>703
Is... is this person a wizard? Are they trying to get close to you in order to poison you and other powerful, evil women like you? Distrustful of the wizard's placid smile and open arms, you take a step back, grip your stone knife and prepare to defend yourself.
>>704
At this most vital and threatening time, you find your mind boggled by something completely irrelevant. The wizard, noting your confusion, explains that haptic communication is important for humans such as yourself, and has been shown to increase levels of oxytocin (which promotes interpersonal bonding) and reduce levels of cortisol (involved in stress). They add that if hugging is not to your liking then they would be just as happy to offer some light tickling or a massage.
>>705
Looking around for liquor boxes, you happen to catch sight of several Jacks, hiding behind and amongst the various strange organic structures nearby. They are watching you with warm curiosity. There are more than five of them, and none appear to have been whipped. Yet.
Accept the hug, then stab the androgynous maybe-wizard in the back. Literally.
>>707
You nod your head solemnly and submit to the wizard's embrace. Their arms wrap tightly around your back and their torso presses against yours, but they are kept at a slight remove by your trilobite plate armour. You feel a strange warmth spreading through your body, dampened by that very distance. It's like the hedgehog's dilemma. If you allow them closer - beneath your armour - then you make yourself vulnerable to attack by others. If not, then you remain isolated and unable to hug or be hugged in earnest.
You find yourself suddenly revolted by these ridiculous girlish pinings. Yes, you decide, before this insidious "hugging" addles your brain any further, you'll make sure this wizard wishes they were wearing armour like you! Behind their back, you extend your hand holding the knife and then plunge it into their spine as hard as you can. It bounces off with a faint metallic plunk. Your breath catches in your throat.
The wizard lets go and commiserates that they'd love to stay and hug you more, but they must be off. They say that they are worried for the mental health of their mistress (who recently transformed into a tentacle monster, and may be suffering some form of bodily dysphoria), hence all the Jacks being sent in to hug her. You were just collateral. With a cheery goodbye, the wizard vanishes into the darkness, surrounded by rustling and giggling as the Jacks follow them.
You are left alone in a small clearing. You find yourself somewhat disorientated, unable to recall which direction you came from. There are a few glowing bulbous fungi dotted around, mostly ahead of you. Countless tall, tubular structures rise from the ground all around you. They are especially thick in the area behind you and to your left. There is also a faint breeze coming from your left. As you are stood there wondering what to do, you hear a scream come from ahead and slightly to your right.
Eat the fungi.
Practice rolling on the ground
>>709
Curious, you walk over to the glowing fungus and carefully inspect it. It consists of many long, thin glabrous stalks, each with a row of luminescent white bell-shaped organs hanging from it. It is cold and slightly slimy to the touch, and gives off no particular odour. With trepidation, you pluck one of the fruits, stick it in your mouth, chew and swallow. It is incredibly bitter and acrid in taste, and almost earns itself a return journey up your oesophagus, though you manage to keep it down.
But why stop there? That's only one of an entire kingdom of life out there waiting to be eaten! You gather specimens of every fungus you can find, from the stipitate to the hirsute, and wolf them down voraciously. After sampling one particularly elusive little mushroom, you find yourself suddenly unable to move. You fall onto one side, short of breath and nauseous. The world fades away into total darkness. You die within seconds.
GAME OVER
Deaths: 29
(Continuing from most recent saved game: >>708)
>>710
As preparation in case you ever catch fire, you practice the "stop drop and roll" procedure. Once you are satisfied you have mastered the technique - complicated as it is - you get up again. You note in passing that it's been a minute or two now since you heard that scream, and you haven't heard anything else since.
Collect fungi for later use, then go towards the scream.
Collect scream for later use.
make sure we still have the files
make sure we still have the flies
>>712
You spend a few minutes stuffing your pockets with fungi; mostly mushrooms, but also a few bracket fungi and even what might be some sort of slime mould. Once satisfied, taking your time, and in no particular hurry, you amble over towards where you think you heard that screaming coming from. The glowing fungi are not even remotely enough to illuminate your path, so you advance slowly, with both hands out in front of you, and treading very carefully.
The ground rises, passes over a ridge, then descends precipitously before levelling off again. You hear some hissing clicking noises from somewhere to your left, and momentarily hope you might've found the source of the screaming, but it seems to be just more trilobites. They scuttle away and are gone before you can react. You continue onwards for quite some way, and eventually reach the shore of an underground lake. The glowing fungi are more common here, as well as on the opposite shore, at least a hundred metres away.
Quite unexpectedly, you stumble across a manmade structure: a short, stubby concrete pier extending into the lake. It is ridged and slopes down at the end, suggesting it may be for launching watercraft. Following the structure inland, you find, embedded into the concrete, the bottom of a ladder leading straight up into the black expanse above. You can hear faintly from above an airy thumping sound, like the sound of a helicopter's rotor, but slower and more irregular.
You sweep the area, still searching for the source of that scream, and happen to spot a human figure lying face down on the shore on the other side of the pier. You can't identify it due to the low lighting, but you're fairly certain it's an adult male, so it's probably either Alexei, Aaron, or a grunt. Judging by their lack of motion, they are either unconscious, dead or playing dead. You try to approach, but as soon as you get within a few metres a vast, dark shape erupts from the water nearby and drives you off. A chance glint from the CRT monitor identifies the creature as Dr. Gay Hitler. He stamps and hisses threatening, before patrolling back and forth next to the human figure. He seems to be trying to prevent you from reaching the body.
>>713
You have a scream prepared in the back of your throat, suitable for any occasion.
>>714
You realise with a start that you don't have any files whatsoever! Worse still, you don't recall ever having had any. This is troubling news indeed. You chew your fingernails nervously, knowing you haven't a single suitable tool to file them down.
>>715
Neither your trilobite plate armour nor your tattered seifuku is - or has ever been - furnished with a fly or zip in the crotch part. The immensity of your lack of both files and flies settles on you, and you suddenly feel as though the rug has been pulled out from under your feet. This world is simply not as you thought it was.
Heat the air around Dr. Gay Hitler until he (she?) gets too hot and runs away.
Inspect body.
Place face in body's buttocks.
Deeply inhale.
Scream, in quick succession, the fifty most common words in the english language.
>>717
Now that you have air immunity (passive skill), you can afford to really meddle with the air without fear of hurting yourself in the process. You spend 60 mana heating the air within two metres of you by 75K, then take a few steps towards the angry arthropod. Dr. Gay Hitler begins to charge towards you, but as soon as he enters your sphere of influence, hisses loudly and slips back into the water. A flawless success, it seems.
>>718
You find that the man has a fairly strong pulse and is breathing, but shows no response to being pinched or prodded. You drag him over to the nearest glowing fungus, pressing it against his face, and identify him as your foster father, Aaron Aaronovitch Aaronov. He is dressed only in his underwear. He has a nail file tucked behind his left ear, but you cannot find any other items on or near him. His skin and hair are not wet, so he doesn't seem to have actually been in the water recently. There is a swollen lump on the back of his head, suggesting he was knocked unconscious by a blunt impact.
Though you hate to admit it, you do actually somewhat care about this man, and you want the best for him, as far as possible. You certainly wouldn't wish upon him the embarrassment of being found by anyone outside the family in the state of having soiled himself. Just to be on the safe side, you have to check if any deposits have been made in his underwear.
You roll him over onto his stomach and, thankful for the fact that there's nobody nearby, thrust your nose into his rear and give a hearty sniff. You don't smell anything in particular.
"What are you doing?" asks a voice from over your shoulder. You jump upright, turn around and ready your trusty ceremonial stone knife out of reflex. Before you is a certain familiar obsidian cube, hovering in midair, atop which are Conundrum-chan and Ariadne. Conundrum-chan has a small flame between her fingers; just enough to illuminate their faces and the local surroundings.
>>719
Panicking, you try to explain yourself. "The be to of, and a, in that have I it for not on with! He as you do at this, but his by from they we say! Her she, or an will - my one all - would there their what! So up out if about, who get which go me!" you reply. That didn't quite come out right.
"...I see." says Ariadne, a smug half-smile playing on her lips, before gracefully changing the subject; "Now, as it happens, Conundrum-chan and I are looking for all those clones of yours. You wouldn't happen to know where they've gone, would you?" Conundrum-chan continues "Quickly please, Ariadne and I are in a hurry." The flame between her fingers suddenly flares up. If you didn't know any better, you'd think they were trying to intimidate the information out of you.
Speaking of clones, you still have four unspent skillpoints left over from those Jacks you ritually murdered earlier.
convert skill points to mana
cast flammability on the other two while they aren't looking
use the rest of our mana to heat the air to 8~900K
>>721
You lack both the mana/skillpoint interconversion and flammability skills, which belong to Jack Conundrum-chan (you being Jack Aaronova).
You are now playing as Jack Conundrum-chan.
You currently have zero mana but three unspent skillpoints, so you do the obvious thing and convert them into 150 mana. You immediately spend 100 on casting flammability on the two Aaronova sisters, Jack and Ariadne. They don't suspect a thing. Unfortunately, you cannot see your perfidious plan through to completion, as you lack the heat air skill.
You are now playing as Jack Aaronova.
With your 170 mana, you can afford to heat the air within a one metre radius of you to a mere 700K, but that proves more than enough to set you spectacularly alight. Though you can resist the effects of your own arcane skills, this calamity was caused by Conundrum-chan's chicanery. Your skin, hair and clothing burst into a roiling mass of flame and smoke. Despite your preparations for this eventuality at >>710,711 rolling can't save you this time. You burn to death horribly and painfully.
GAME OVER
Deaths: 30
(Continuing from most recent saved game: >>720)
Stop being a gibbering madwoman for once and calmly explain that the clones all ran away to places unknown. In exchange for this information, ask for a briefing on Jack Conundrum and Ariadne's activities. Then ask for a ride on what is presumably Stove Stove (or some similar incarnation.) Why not put all our Jacks in one Stove?
Gibber