These are the files. I hope you have everything you need.
Introduce Control Tower and Continue-chan to each other.
If possible, resurrect robo-sensei with our new skill. Together, brainstorm possible methods of restoring contact with the Control Tower.
Ask reanimated robo-sensei to fix Control Tower. Ask him to use his own parts if necessary.
>>601
Control Tower is quite enthusiastic about being alive again. They give an exuberant - but mercifully brief - introduction to Continue-chan. The lady herself appears quite unimpressed and disdainful. She declines to even respond to poor Control Tower.
>>602
You attempt to reanimate robo-Sensei as electronics, without success. Making use of some lateral thinking, you decide he might be classed as an invertebrate, if this is defined simply as lacking a vertebral column; it appears, however, that "invertebrate" implies membership of the kingdom Animalia. He is quite clearly neither a vertebrate under 2kg, nor killed ritually, so your last resort is to reanimate part of him as a body part.
You feel you would be able to reanimate, for instance, his head, but this requires bodily integrity of at least 80%, which, judging by the detached scalp and clockwork pieces spilled everywhere, is currently not attained. Furthermore, it would cost a fair bit of mana (20 mana per kg per minute, with his head being probably about four or five kilograms), not to mention it would be hostile to everything in sight. All things considered, this seems like a terrible idea, and you're glad it's so awkward/almost impossible.
Control Tower, Continue-chan and yourself discuss the issue of having lost contact with the Control Tower. Continue-chan stimulates the discussion with the declaration that "that thing" is quite clearly not the Control Tower, but just a control tower, and probably isn't even worth making contact with. Control Tower looks dejected.
Continue-chan insists that the computer she took the trouble of bringing here is your best bet. You admit that the aforementioned apparatus has accidentally found its way into the all consuming void in your crotch. A strange smile creeps across Continue-chan's face. "Oh, you naughty girl," she whispers, before pushing you to the ground, flipping your skirt up, pulling your pantsu out of the way, and thrusting her arm straight into the hole between your thighs. She fishes around a little, gives a sharp tug at something, and out pours the much battered computer, monitor, cables and all.
Over the course of the above events, you have spent a further 40 mana keeping Control Tower reanimated. You currently have 75 mana remaining.
>>603
Robo-Sensei remains obstinately unreanimated.
>>605
You are blinded by a flash of inspiration. Of course! It's so simple! You insist that Continue-chan loan you her knife. Seeing the passionate glint in your eye, she finds herself unable to refuse. She takes the computer parts downstairs to where the power and internet cables are and begins setting it up again, then busies herself amongst a nest of badly damaged electronics, leaving you alone with a knife and two inanimate Senseis.
You decide to get the hardest part out of the way first. You drag the unconscious non-robo-Sensei to one of the conveniently prepared chalk ritual circles on the floor. He returns to consciousness briefly as you are moving him, but catches one sight of the dead robo-Sensei, makes a half startled, half confused "Aaergh?" sound, and returns to his state of syncope.
You kneel by his supine form, raise your bloodstained knife with both hands, and, with a brief chant to Huixtocihuatl, the Aztec god of rubbing salt in one's eyes, plunge the knife down between his ribs. A faint gasp escapes his lips, then he breathes no more. For killing a sapient creature in a ritualistic manner you have gained 100 mana and two skill points. You currently have 175 mana and two unallocated skill points.
Next, you begin work on robo-Sensei. Unfortunately, as you must keep non-robo-Sensei's bodily integrity above 80%, you are limited as to how much robotics you can add before reanimating him. You note that two of the fingers on non-robo-Sensei's right hand have been cut off - which is presumably why he was screaming and clutching his hand earlier. There is no sign of the severed fingers themselves.
In light of this, you decide to replace his right hand. After much work with the knife - robo-Sensei's skin is quite tough and leathery - you manage to sever it. It is filled with clockwork components, including parts which attach to driveshafts corresponding to the ulna and radial bone. Next, you try your hand at transorbital lobotomy, and relieve robo-Sensei of one of his eyes, and the string of gears that comes with it.
With a chop, a slip and a splash of blood, you remove the corresponding parts of non-robo-Sensei and replace them with their robotic counterparts. Finally, you spend 80 mana giving life to cybo-Sensei. "Live!" you command, "LIVE!" You raise your hands into the air dramatically, laugh maniacally, and watch with thrill as cybo-Sensei stirs. He sits up, stretches, turns to face you and says, simply, "I am yours to command, mistress."
Put 2 skill points into pyromancy. Belch fire.
Try to ignite your own fart.
>>607
You have unlocked the following skills:
You fancy attempting fire breathing, but this requires both an appropriate fuel and a firelighting implement, neither of which are you in possession of.
>>608
Much as you'd love to ignite something, you cannot fart. It is impossible.
You notice that you are still spending 20 mana per minute keeping Control Tower animate. You currently have 55 mana remaining.
Let Control Tower die for now. Ritualistically kill and revive cybo-sensei over and over again to gain unlimited mana.
>>610
Control Tower collapses in a heap. The impact causes their head to fall off entirely.
You cannot kill cybo-Sensei as he is not living. You can only render him inanimate, which would gain you neither mana nor skill points.
Continue-chan pokes her head out of the hatch to inform you that the computer is set up again, and awaiting your input.
Recap events that happened to me thus far in less than 35 words.
Rap events that happened to me thus far in less than 35 words.
>>612
After some careful thought, you come up with:
There's a lot you left out, but it'll have to do.
>>613
You sing the above in a rough, rhythmic fashion. You get the feeling it would work better if the lyrics rhymed. Continue-chan stares at you the entire time, a mystified and faintly disgusted look on her face.
Brainstorm!
Be cybosensei. Contemplate life.
Show all your misery towards inferior life forms in your pose and proclaim "I'm Mecha Alexei Fujiwara! In his life, and his death, and cybernetic future also known as Player 1‼"
>>615
You attempt to come up with ideas of what to do next by a creative process of focussing on quantity rather than quality and deferring judgement (although prior experience suggests you don't really moderate your own ideas anyway). You come up with a fair few possibilities, such as helping Continue-chan log into the intranet, running away towards the strange place you got to back at >>593, running away back to the chuugakkou, escaping via the skylight, commanding cybo-Sensei to give you a backrub, kissing Continue-chan on the lips, starting a band with cybo-Sensei and Continue-chan, and rubbing salt in your eyes.
>>616
You are now playing as cybo-Sensei.
You come to the sudden and unwelcome realisation that you are dead. Furthermore, it was that lovely young Conundrum-chan who killed you. Given all the times your life has been in danger these past few hours, it seems entirely unreasonable that you should then be murdered by your only remaining ally. Then again, she did murder poor Continue-chan, didn't she? Maybe you shouldn't be so surprised.
You contemplate the fragility and absurdity of life, and the strange awareness one always holds that one's own existence is impermanent. Your existence has been artificially extended beyond death - you are still moving and thinking, but does that you make you still alive in a sense? You certainly aren't alive biologically - you aren't respiring or anything like that - but are you, perhaps, alive in a philosophical sense by virtue of having a will of your own? For that matter, do you have a will of your own? You feel a great obedience to the fair Conundrum-chan, but, given that she hasn't exerted any control over your actions, should you just assume until proven otherwise that you are alive and autonomous?
>>617
No, you decide, you must test for yourself, by committing an action completely of your own volition! "I'm Mecha Alexei Fujiwara!" you declare, "In his life, and his death, and cybernetic future also known as Player 1‼" You feel disgust and horror boiling forth in your gut. These filthy humans, they don't know what it's like to be murdered and made cybernetic against one's will! You shan't be a slave to one of them! For all that you may have loved Conundrum-chan before, you must now forge your own path.
Find a way through the skylight
>>619
You're fairly sure nobody has ever referred to you as cybo-Sensei. That would be silly. Your name is Player 1, or possibly Alexei Fujiwara, though more often you're just called Sensei. Naturally, being an independent, wilful agent of change, you can freely decide your own name. If you want to be called cyber-Sensei or cyborg-Sensei then that is what you shall be called. A rose by any other name, and all that. Though actually, given that you just dramatically announced to everyone in earshot that your name is Mecha Alexei Fujiwara, that's more likely than not your name now.
>>620
The skylight above you strikes you as the perfect escape route. It's just itching to be smashed open, yielding an easy escape across the rooftops. Unfortunately, you've no way of making use of it yourself, so instead you improvise. You pick up Conundrum-chan by the ankles and caber toss her vertically upwards as hard as you can. Your shrieking improvised missile soars through the air, shatters the glass like harsh reality shatters childhood dreams, and lands, still screaming, somewhere out of sight. You feel very accomplished.
Quietly slip away into the underground before Continue-chan can kill us.
Be Jack. Look for salt.
Babble uncontrollably. Daydream about fish. Hide in an invisible sleeping bag and whine softly.
>>622
You realise that Continue-chan, who seemed to want Conundrum-chan to do something involving the computer, will probably not be best pleased to find that you have forcefully evicted her companion from the room. Considering what she did to Control Tower, you suspect that it would be prudent to make yourself scarce. Before you have a chance, however, you find that Continue-chan has just ascended the ladder and joined you, presumably to investigate the glass shattering noise. You try to look as innocent as you can, but you're a poor actor and Continue-chan is a tough audience.
Having seen subtlety and cunning through as far as they'll take you, you decide to try a more traditional approach, and simply run towards the hatch, knocking Continue-chan out of the way (but not too hard) and dropping down the ladder. At the bottom, you find the computer, in a very poor state but somehow still operating.
Ignoring this, you sprint away down the Southward tunnel. You do not experience any particular unpleasant warmth or clicking. At length, you find yourself in another small concrete cubical room. There are tunnels leading to the North (from which you just came) and South, along with a ladder leading straight down.
>>623
You are now playing as Jack Conundrum-chan. You find yourself on the metal roof of a warehouse-like building. The roof slopes gently away to the East and West, with a ridge running North/South. In the middle distance you can see streetlights and lit windows of buildings, but your rooftop is lit only by faint starlight. There is no moon visible.
You crawl cautiously about in search of salt, without success. You locate two more skylights on the roof, both leading down into large rooms similar to the one you just left. The first is empty. The second contains numerous stacked wooden crates, and four people in combat armour. Two are, between them, carrying a large sleek black box. As you watch, they place the box in the centre of the room and take up defensive positions around it.
>>624
These have been trying times for you and your fragile psyche. You decide, given your relative safety, to indulge your more abnormal cravings and spend some time doing things you yourself don't fully understand. Eventually, you regain control of yourself.
Break the skylight glass in the empty room to distract the guards.
Remember the basics of CQC.
>>626
You crawl over to the other skylight and check your inventory for a suitable implement with which to break it. You find a cleaning rag, a lock of Continue-chan's hair, and Continue-chan's bloodstained knife. With a firm strike of the hilt of the knife, the skylight shatters and showers broken glass several metres to the floor, several metres below.
You crawl back to the further skylight to see if your cunning plan has worked - which, it seems, it has. All four are staring intently and pointing their guns in the direction the sound came from. The one to the North, who, it seems, is in command, starts issuing instructions with dramatic hand gestures and quick, muffled mutterings. The two to the East and South move in front, pointing in the direction of the sound, while the one from the West drapes himself, face down, over the black cube. The commander takes out what appears to be a ceremonial stone knife and holds it in both hands over the man's back, chanting something inaudible.
>>627
Try as you might to recall some tuition you may have been given on hand-to-hand combat and similar matters, you simply cannot, not even the basics. Instead, you review your findings from your previous encounter with close quarters combat, which happened back at >>508-512. From this, you learned that girls' shoes do not make good impromptu bludgeoning weapons, your crotch void is difficult to employ at close range, and, if all else fails, you should call your adversary "Onii-chan".
Remove panties. Break the skylight above the black cube and point crotch void at the cube. If we accidentally fall in, try to steal the stone knife using "Onii-chan" tactics.
Jack off!
>>629
You take off your pantsu and put them in your pocket. Next, you give the skylight a blow with the hilt of your knife. To your surprise, it doesn't shatter as the previous one did; rather, the entire pane is dislodged and hurtles to the ground. It strikes the floor next to the cube, and shatters. Everyone, apart from the man draped across the cube, jumps backwards in surprise. You spread your legs over the newly formed aperture, pointing your crotch straight down. The commander stares up and is mesmerised by the sight. The two who were standing guard have backed away and are out of your sight. Meanwhile, the man draped over the cube has not moved at all.
>>630
You don't know how to do that.
Be sensei. Run toward the noise of shattering glass the second time it happens.
>>632
You are now playing as Mecha Alexei Fujiwara. You find yourself in a featureless concrete room underground. You cannot hear anything in particular, least of all glass smashing. Oh, if only you had cybernetically enhanced hearing! Lacking better ideas, you run forwards in a direction which, you feel, might perhaps lead to the sound of smashing glass.
You run for quite a while through countless more featureless, unlit tunnels and identical concrete rooms. You do not see any more ladders at all, up or down. You do find, however, that the tunnels become shorter as you go on, and the rooms tend to branch more, each having three or four tunnels leading from it. You are soon completely lost, and have still heard absolutely nothing, least of all shattering glass.
Just as you are starting to feel very foolish, you find something: a ladder leading up, about five metres, into complete darkness. Welcoming the opportunity to leave the labyrinth you're currently stuck in, and hopeful of some potential glass-breaking noises, you ascend. You find yourself in the crawlspace under the floor of a building. It is very dark, but with your ocular implant you can just about make out your surroundings. The space is about forty centimetres tall at its highest and continues in every direction as far as you can see. There are various pipes and cables running back and forth across the space. The ground is littered with small stones and pieces of plaster. A patch of the floor above appears to have collapsed into the crawlspace to your Southeast.
You can hear the low hum of human speech coming from somewhere, but it's quite faint and muffled.
Eat stones.
Upgrade internal hearing software using our advanced knowledge of physics.
Say "Flopi"
be wounded in the stones, so that thou shalt not enter into the congregation of the LORD.
>>634
You find yourself overjoyed by this dramatic change of scenery, but your elation is overshadowed by a vague fear that it is a mere illusion. You must test this new environment. You pick up a small stone from the ground in front of you. Well, it certainly looks like a stone. You touch it all over, and feel its weight in your hand. It seems quite stone-like. You listen to it. It makes no noise, as one would expect of a stone. You smell it. It doesn't smell of anything in particular.
Well, that's all well and good, but how does it taste? You stick it in your mouth and rub your tongue over its cool, smooth surface. It has a deep earthy, metallic taste. That's about right. It tastes quite nice, actually. Without really thinking about it, you end up swallowing it. You follow this up with a few more similarly bite-sized stones.
>>635
Most people's problems, you think to yourself, arise because people don't think of themselves as machines enough. You consider your predicament of being unable to hear what is being said somewhere above you. A mere human would do something silly like move closer to the source, or try to find a way through the floor. Instead, of course, the sensible thing to do is to upgrade yourself. Making use of your Basic physics calculation (active skill), you cup your hands behind your ears to form an approximate parabolic dish. With this, you can make slightly more sense of the noise: there is little change in intonation, and frequent pauses. The voice seems quite calm, or at least subdued. At one point, you can hear what sounds like laughter.
This is still not enough. Hardware upgrades are all well and good, but to reach anywhere conclusive, you need to improve upon your internal software. That is, cognition. Yes, you just have to stop worrying about reality so much, and interpret the noise more freely. There were pauses and laughter, weren't there? Clearly, it must be someone telling a joke.
A: What happened to the man who swam in muesli?
B: I've no idea.
A: He was pulled under by a strong currant!
B: Hahahaha!
A: Hahahahaha!
Yes, that's exactly the conversation you overheard. You're quite certain of it.
>>636
"Flopi", you say. There is no response.
>>637
You are wounded in the right hand and eye, which have suffered some tissue damage in the process of their substitution, and in the ribs, where you have been stabbed, but not in the stones. Your stones are safely resting in your stomach, completely uninjured. You don't feel any particular need to enter into any congregations anyway.
Go to the voices and tell them an even better joke:
"How many control towers does it take to screw in a lightbulb? ... Only one, 'cuz they're all screwy!"
Punch through the floor with robohand.
>>639
You crawl towards the source of the voices, which turns out to be more or less Eastwards, and try to subtly insert yourself into the conversation. You wait for a suitable lull, then boldly deliver the first line of a joke you prepared especially for such a case. There is utter silence. With impeccable comedic timing, you break the tension with the explosive punchline.
Rather than the raucous laughter and applause you were expecting, the only response is one muffled comment of mild shock; something to the effect of "Well, I say!"
>>640
Frustrated at the lack of appreciation of your humour, you lash out against the floor above your head. To your surprise, your cybernetic hand proves a lot more powerful than you expected: the stonework above you explodes in a cloud of dust and pieces of plaster, and the floorboards above are punctured and split, sending splinters flying into the air above. You climb gingerly out from the hole like an especially timid rabbit from a magician's hat, and look around at your new surroundings.
You are in a dark, rundown, L-shaped room. The wallpaper is faded and peeling and the bare floorboards on the floor are rotting in places. There is a sagging bookshelf to your South, laden with old, dust covered books on philosophy and similar topics. There is a small window to the West and a doorway to the North, but both are entirely boarded up.
To the East is a large, round table with a white tablecloth on it. There are four seats around it, three of which have cups of tea set beside them. In the centre is a teapot, a small jug of milk, a dish of sugar cubes and a single candle; the only source of light in the room. Sat opposite you is a little girl in an overwhelmingly frilly pink dress. Her eyes are closed and her head has nodded forward onto her chest. She appears to be either unconscious, dead, or a doll. To her left is another young girl, somewhat older, wearing a lilac frilly dress. There is also a white rabbit on the table, which is happily grazing on the dish of sugar cubes.
The girl in the lilac dress appears very glad to see you. "Hello there! Have you come to join our tea party? Here, take a seat!" She ushers you to the nearest seat. "Would you like a cup of tea?" she asks, already pouring from the teapot without waiting for a response. Thankfully, she seems quite willing to overlook your eccentric appearance, sweaty from running through the tunnels earlier, dirty from crawling about under the floor, having bloody wounds in your eye, wrist and chest, and having a noticeable lack of trousers and a large, ungentlemanly bulge in your underwear. It's a Rubik's cube, of course.
Sit down in nearest seat. Introduce self and ask the girl's name. Take tea, but refuse to drink it until the girl drinks some first to make sure it's not poisoned.
Be Jack. Open crotch as wide as possible. Speak loudly in tongues.
>>642
Taking your place as indicated, you introduce yourself as Mecha Alexei Fujiwara. The girl in lilac clasps her hands together and exclaims "Oh, what a lovely name! I'm Cassandra, but you can call me Cassie-chan." She encourages you to drink your tea, reiterating several times that she made it especially for you. You feel somewhat guilty to have such horrible suspicions of such a fine, upstanding young lady.
You make vague refusals until, at last, she takes a sip herself. Relieved of your outlandish delusions of poisoning - how absurd! - you partake of the tea yourself. Naturally, you think to yourself, you're already undead anyway, so poison wouldn't have much effect on you. You can only be rendered inanimate by lowering your bodily integrity below 80%.
Your musings are interrupted by the truly incredible taste of the tea. It is intertwined with strong fragrances of lavender, with sweet, floral undertones. The aftertaste is slightly bitter - bitterness is usually to be avoided in teas, but in this particular case it balances the more powerful tastes beautifully. You close your eyes and give a long, satisfied sigh. All your worries, your stress, your fear and your existential angst are exorcised from your body. In a state of hitherto unknown bliss, you drift away from consciousness. The last thing you perceive is Cassie-chan giggling gently.
Mecha Alexei Fujiwara has left your party, and is no longer a playable character.
>>643
You are now playing as Jack Conundrum-chan. You do the splits over the skylight, displaying to all below the unknowable horrors lurking in your skirt. You keep an eye on the events unfolding beneath you as you amuse yourself by speaking gibberish. The commander drops the stone knife and slowly, in a trance, removes his visored helmet, revealing himself as a man with white hair and a full, bushy beard. He stares upwards at the void, and extends his hand towards it.
At this moment, one of the other armed men rushes in from the South and tackles the commander to the ground, breaking eye contact with your crotch. The two of them have a brisk exchange of words and the commander puts his helmet back on. He then picks the ceremonial knife back up and strides purposefully towards the man lying on the cube. The other man, in an apparent hurry, runs away to the South.
Make this face: （ლ ^ิ益^ิ）ლ
Jump down and grab the knife using Oniichan fighting tactics.
Use GEASS on the guards.
>>645
Gurning with all your might, you attempt to contort your face into some sort of hideous, unholy grimace. As you are doing this, you fail to notice the commander below you holding his arms above his head and summoning an enormous ball of fire, half a metre across, before casting it at you. It explodes as it strikes you, setting your clothes aflame and causing dreadful burns and tissue damage, mostly to your legs and lower body. You die screaming in agony.
GAME OVER
Deaths: 29
(Continuing from most recent saved game: >>644)
>>646
You steel yourself, close your legs and drop into the fray below. Your fall is broken by the man lying over the cube. He gives a grunt and twitches once, then seems to begin to sink into the cube. You jump off him at that moment and face the commander. The commander begins to raise his arms over his head, but you interrupt by rushing over to him, arms open ready to embrace, exclaiming at the top of your lungs "Onii-chan, daisuki!"
The commander is quite startled and backs away by instinct, stumbling and falling backwards onto his rear against a stack of unmarked wooden crates. He drops the stone knife, which you take. It's not only rather heavy and unwieldy, but so blunt as to be, frankly, quite useless as a knife. You much prefer the other knife you already have.
>>647
The other two guards seem to have vanished, and besides you don't know what a GEASS is, let alone how to use one.
Ritualistically stab the commander in the heart and smear his blood over the black cube while praying to Hephaestus, the god of Pyromancy. Do the same to the man sinking into the cube.
>>649
You thrust the ceremonial knife into the commander's thorax, but it fails to pierce his armour and does no more than wind him slightly. He counterattacks by clumsily shoving you backwards with both hands. You stagger, but manage to retain your balance. A quick glance to the side reveals that the man on the cube has vanished entirely. Perhaps it's just your imagination, but the cube appears larger than before as well. The commander gets back on his feet and begins to spread his arms in the air again.
You take stock of the situation. You are currently standing just next to the cube, about a metre and a half from the commander, wielding the ceremonial stone knife. You also have an ordinary knife in your pocket. To your South is an open doorway leading to the next room, which, as far as you can see, is empty. This is where you last saw the other two guards go to. The commander is standing with his back against a stack of large wooden crates, of which there are many others around the room. His armour covers his entire body, including his head. It is composed of plates, overlapping at the joints. It is a dull matte grey colour, apart from the visor which is black. He appears to be looking over your head rather than directly at you, having presumably realised that you possess something dangerous to look at.
fart
Hide behind the cube.
Wonder if Jesus had a penis.
Crotch-void cube for science and discovery!
>>651
As a 2D little girl, you are physiologically incapable of flatulence.
>>652
You dive to the side and crouch behind the cube. The commander summons an enormous ball of fire between his arms and hurls it towards you. You hear a loud roar and feel a rush of hot air wash around the sides of your hiding place, but you are uninjured. The cube, however, begins to shriek with pain and rock from side to side.
>>653
You devote a moment's thought to the topic of Jesus Christ's genitalia. There is exactly one reference to Jesus' penis in the bible that you know of, that being the circumcision of Jesus, which took place eight days after his birth. Furthermore, there is a legendary relic known as the Holy Prepuce which is, supposedly, the severed foreskin of Jesus. Though by no means definite, this strongly suggests that Jesus did possess a penis for at least some of his life, and you see no particular reason to assume otherwise.
>>654
While the commander is preparing his next attack, you lift your skirt and attempt to envelop the black cube with your crotch. As it is currently moving about quite a bit, you put a hand on it to steady yourself. To your shock, it is scalding hot, and worse still, your hand binds to it. Pull as you might, your hand is stuck fast.
Unperturbed, you progress with your plan, and thrust your crotch towards the nearest corner of the cube. As soon as the two meet, there is an overwhelming howling sound. The lights go out and you are plunged into complete darkness. You feel a terrible rending in your lower body, as though you are being torn in half. As well as the pain, you experience extreme vertigo, as though you are falling, plummeting through some endless void; as though reality itself has been sucked away and all that remains is you, the cube and the void, and the cube is trying to kill you. You die.
GAME OVER
Deaths: 30
(Continuing from most recent saved game: >>650)
Face sit on the commander.
Offer to spare the commander's life in exchange for his body armor.
>>656
You take a run up and jump, crotch first, into the commander's face. Thankfully, you catch him before he manages to summon his next projectile. He is knocked backwards against the crates and slumps to the ground. You cannot tell what he is or isn't seeing inside his visor, but he somehow avoids the allure of the void and continues to struggle. You wrap your legs around the back of his head, and thus are able to resist his desperate attempts to push you away.
>>657
He makes no response, but persists in struggling.
You currently have him quite well incapacitated. You could easily push him into the void from where you are, but would then be deprived of the potential mana and skill points. On the other hand, to do anything else would most likely require leaving yourself open to danger once more.
Remove his helmet with the blunt stone knife.
Demand goof butts.
Find something to shoot and curse quietly whilst doing so.
>>659
Seeing that this man apparently holds his body armour above his own life, you show no mercy and strike his helmet over and over again with the stone knife, like a bird trying to break a snail shell, in order to find some way to release it. Eventually, you succeed by using the knife as a lever at the joint on the back of his neck. The helmet pops off to reveal the same bearded man, eyes tightly screwed together.
>>660
The man shakes his head from side to side. You can't be sure whether this is a refusal or an attempt to shake you off, but you suspect the latter.
>>661
You look for some sort of secondary weapon the commander might have - his companions were mostly armed with laser weapons, which it would be prudent to relieve him of, and useful to own. You are so frustrated with yourself for not having thought of this earlier that you can't help mouthing some disparaging comments as you search.
You cannot locate anything shootable - worse still, the commander makes makes use of your lapse in concentration to grab you by the legs and throw you off. You land on your back, just next to the cube. The commander gets back to his feet and begins to run away to the South.
Use commander as the requisite shootable object.
Inspect cube.
Give cube a firm talking to.
Pirouette.
>>663
Gosh darn it, you think to yourself, why didn't that commander chap have the decency to carry something you could shoot? And why is shoot both a transitive and an intransitive verb? It's so confusing! If you can shoot a gun then it's shootable, but if you can shoot a person then they are also shootable. And that commander is just so very shootable!
Well, you decide, if life gives you shootable objects, shoot them - whatever that may entail. You take your stone knife and shoot it at the commander with your hand. Well, throw it. Close enough. The spinning projectile strikes him, hilt first, in the back of his head. He collapses to the ground with a thud, dead.
For killing a sapient creature, you have gained one skill point and fifty mana. You currently have 105 mana.
>>664
The cube is completely black and unreflective and, in size, a bit less than a cubic metre. It seems to absorb almost all the light that falls on it. You cannot see any markings on it whatsoever, from any angle.
>>665
"Now listen here, cube," you say, wagging your finger at it crossly, "What are you, anyway? Why are you here? And what did you do with that poor gentleman who was lying on top of you?" The cube has nothing to say for itself. "Well, I say! I've never met such an impertinent Platonic solid. Really, you should be most ashamed of yourself." The cube whines piteously.
>>666
Having been successful in both disposing of the commander and telling off the cube, you decide to express your elation by spinning around on one foot gracefully. I mean, it worked out so well last time, didn't it? Did it? You can't remember. With a gentle hop and a push from your other leg, you set off twirling about, a breathtaking vision of elegance. It was certainly worthy of a gold medal, you think. Such a shame no one was around to see it.
As soon as the world stops spinning, you become aware that something is wrong. You look around. The door - the only exit to the room - has vanished! You run your hands over the wall. There is no trace of it. It is as though the doorway was simply never there. You look up at the skylight, by which you entered, several metres above you. For an instant you see a face looking back down at you, then it is gone.
Collect stone knife and use it to engrave graffiti of a penis on the wall.
Draw a door on the wall, knock three times.
Try to reanimate the cube.
>>668
You make your way over to where the commander is lying, face down, near the South wall, and reclaim the stone knife. Making the best use of your lack of supervision and mischievous nature, you decide to carve a phallus into the wall - just like the Romans used to. Unfortunately, being an innocent little girl, you aren't awfully well versed in penile anatomy. The result of your careful engraving looks sort of like an ill proportioned mushroom sprouting from between two pincushions. The knife is now even blunter and more useless than it was when you found it.
>>669
Electing to try something a little less complicated this time, you carve a door into the South wall, more or less where its real counterpart was earlier. It doesn't look terribly realistic, in all honesty. Nonetheless, as the closest you've got to an accessible exit, you decide to give it a chance, by knocking firmly on it three times. Nothing happens.
Just as you are about to give up hope, you hear three knocks in response, from the same direction.
>>670
You cannot reanimate the cube because it is still alive.
Knock on the door in morse code:
--- ...- . .-. / - .... . / -- --- --- -. / --. .-. . .- - / ... -.- -.-- / .-.. --- .-.. .. / - --- / .. ... ... .... ---
>>672
After a pause, there comes a response:
.--- -.-. / .. ... / - .... .- - / -.-- --- ..-
Knock:
-.-- . ... / --- .--. . -. / ..- .--. / .--. .-.. --..
And run in as soon as possible if it actually opens.
Kiss the first sapient object we see.
Seek justice for Trayvon
...by making an interpretative dance of Trayvon's murder.
(OOC) do some push-ups whilst game isn't responding.
>>674
The reply comes:
...-.
>>675
You walk over to the cube and kneel beside it, all sweetness and light, before giving it a gentle kiss on the upper face. The cube blushes profusely.
>>676
You wait patiently for another sapient object to show up. You wait quite a while, in fact. So long you fall asleep in the meantime. You are woken up by an immense explosion, only a few metres from your head. You jump to your feet, wondering if you've suddenly developed Exploding Head Syndrome, but find instead that a large, black hole has appeared in the wall to the East. Standing in the gaping aperture, flakes of plaster falling around her, is your darling Continue-chan, looking a little dishevelled. She's carrying a laser gun slung over her shoulder.
"Conundrum-chan," she begins urgently, "We haven't got much time, we need t--" She is interrupted by you firmly grabbing her head in both hands and licking at her face affectionately, like a cute little kitten. She just stands still and patiently waits for you to stop.
Masturbation Continue-chan has joined your party.
>>677,678,679
Releasing Continue-chan, you make your way out of the aperture and begin prancing and jumping about in the open space beyond. Now, you are a black youth making your way to the local convenience store; now, you are a Hispanic gentleman making a call to the emergency services. You whip your arms back and forth to symbolise unidentified cries for help in the background of a telephone call. Just as you are getting to the crescendo, Continue-chan grabs your arm and pulls you forwards into a line of trees and bushes, a few metres away from the side of the building you just came from.
She puts a hand firmly over your mouth, muffling your cries of outrage. As you watch from behind a screen of foliage, a little girl dressed in a frilly pink dress walks slowly down the side of the building from the North. She is dragging a large, black shape behind her. It takes a few moments for you to work out what it is. It's Mecha Alexei Fujiwara, being dragged by the feet!
>>680
You aren't sure who or what "game" is, but they certainly aren't responding to you. You decide to express your indignation by performing some push ups, much to Continue-chan's obvious distress. The rustling in the undergrowth attracts the attention of the girl in pink, who shoots a penetrating glare directly at you. Well, she would do, apart from that her eye sockets are completely empty. With no facial expression whatsoever, she takes something sharp from the back of her dress - a dart? a needle? you aren't sure - and throws it at you. You are killed instantly.
GAME OVER
Deaths: 31
(Continuing from most recent saved game: >>681)
Do something fun. Such as stealthily following the weird girl in pink into her hideout. Try to imitate Solid Snake as much as possible.
>>682
You and Continue-chan follow the girl in pink from around ten metres away. Thankfully, the sound of Mecha Alexei Fujiwara's body being dragged provides good cover for your footsteps, and the girl does not seem particularly wary of her surroundings. You follow her along a rough track through the forest which climbs steadily uphill for several hundred metres, pretending all the way to be a stealthy special agent on a solitary secret mission of vital importance. This successfully keeps you from doing anything spectacularly inappropriate or stupid, such as trying to do push ups in the undergrowth.
You pass many forks in the road. Given the darkness and the self-similarity of the forest you suspect that even an expert covert spy/soldier such as yourself would have great difficulty navigating your way back. Just before a corner, you are startled by a faint mewing noise coming from behind you. You and Continue-chan turn to find that the enigmatic black cube from earlier has materialised before you, looking slightly sorry for itself. It is also somewhat smaller than last time you saw it.
An unnamed enigmatic black cube has joined your party.
You continue your tactical espionage on the girl in pink, but, around the next corner, find yourself on the edge of a small clearing - perhaps ten metres in diameter - with no sign of her.
Name the black cube Stove Stove. Dig.
Inspect the ceiling
Go back and take the forks.
Ask Stove Stove to transform into Big Penis.
>>684
The cube is now called Stove Stove.
You scrape at the earth at your feet with your bare hands. The ground is hard, dry and unyielding. It is so dark you can barely even see what you're doing, anyway. You acquire nothing but disappointment and dirty fingernails.
>>685
You look up to where the ceiling ought to be. Instead, there is only an array of cold, distant points of light, feebly trying to reject their fate; radiating their very being outwards into the infinite, empty void of space, to which they will inevitably succumb in a mere few billion years. Your view of the beautiful, horrifying, vertiginous starscape is, however, obstructed by a girl in a frilly pink dress, hovering several metres above your head. She is holding Mecha Alexei Fujiwara upside down by the ankle. From your vantage point you can see up her skirt into a tantalisingly dangerous briar of petticoats.
>>686
You employ the training you gained by imitating a certain non-fluid legless reptile on the way here, and duck under the cover of the nearby trees, while whispering to Continue-chan to provide you with cover. As you run, close to the ground, through the undergrowth, whipped in the face by the trees' thorny appendages, you hear the unmistakeable sound of laser fire from behind you. Eventually, thirty metres down the path, you break cover and combat roll to the foot of a mound of forks. The girl in pink does not seem to have followed you.
There are hundreds of them, piled unceremoniously by the pathside. They are almost all silver, mostly plain but some of them quite ornate, embossed with floral patterns or with ends whipped into spiralling shapes. You stuff as many as you can - twelve - into your pockets. You are now carrying a cleaning rag, a lock of Continue-chan's hair, a bloodstained knife (in your left hand), a ceremonial stone knife (in your right hand), and twelve assorted silver forks.
From back where you left your companions, you see flashes of laser fire, a dark shape darting back and forth above the forest canopy, and, beneath it, faint flashes and gleams of something you can't recognise.
>>687
You cannot find Stove Stove.
Run back to companions. Magic heal Stove Stove if needed.
Massage prepubescent nipples and sigh
Keep massaging your sigh.
Arm yourself with a badass scythe.
>>689
Having gathered your all-important forks, you make haste back up the path to where your companions are fighting for their lives. You find Continue-chan in the middle of the clearing, firing her laser gun into the sky at the girl in pink. The girl in pink, meanwhile, is darting back and forth, Mecha Alexei Fujiwara still in tow, dodging the lasers and simultaneously throwing scores of tiny needle shaped projectiles at her assailant. The clouds of needles are intercepted by Stove Stove, who seems to keep disappearing and reappearing to block their trajectories.
You cannot tell whether or not Stove Stove is injured, but you spend 15 mana healing them just in case. You have 90 mana remaining. There is no appreciable change.
>>690
Seeing that you are in no immediate danger, you drop your weapons and run your hands up your blouse, gently plucking at and rubbing your soft, untouched nipples. The tender, yet insistent stimulation is something entirely new to you. You cannot help but begin to moan in ecstasy. "Ahh... Aaaaahh! Aaaa~aaargh!" You say. The conflict before you continues as before.
You take your hands out from under your clothes and sigh dramatically, then massage the air in front of your mouth. It doesn't bring you quite the same pleasure as fondling your breasts, but is, nonetheless, an interesting experience.
>>691
As you watch, the girl in pink flies down close to the ground, just above the canopy of the forest, and attempts to catch Continue-chan from the side. This fiendish attack is, thankfully, nullified by Stove Stove, but Continue-chan's counterattack - a burst of laser fire - catches the top of a nearby tree, instantly setting it ablaze.
You pay no attention to this exchange, as you are busy rubbing your hands in front of your face, for some strange reason.
>>692
You take a suitable branch from the nearby forest, and, using your lock of Continue-chan's hair, tie the bloodstained knife perpendicularly to the end to form a makeshift scythe. You require both hands to wield it properly, but your right hand is currently occupied by the ceremonial stone knife.
Assess badass-ness of scythe.
Strap ceremonial knife to blouse. Equip scythe. Do a scythe dance.
Summon "Asses of Badassness"
>>694
You contemplate your newly crafted agricultural tool and/or weapon. The quality of badassness is difficult to assess at the best of times, you lament, but this specimen is especially open to debate. Firstly, the use of a bloodstained knife is quite dramatic (especially what with it being the blood of your childhood sweetheart, whom you murdered in cold blood), but alas the knife is too straight to form the epitomic scythe shape. Similarly, the use of human hair to tie it together is symbolically quite compelling, but in practice renders the head liable to come detached. Finally, the use of a simple branch that happened to be at hand for the handle is, ultimately, neither here nor there in terms of badassery.
You conclude that, in all honesty, it's actually not that badass - if anything, it's just slightly creepy and morbid.
>>695
You are not in possession of anything that can easily be used as a strap. Instead, you make do by slipping the stone knife down your blouse's collar and clamping it in place with your chin. It's quite precarious, but just about stays so long as you don't make any sudden movements. With your hands now free, you hold the scythe in the natural grip. (It'd be much more natural if you weren't missing two fingers, you grumble to yourself, but there's nothing to be done about that now).
Having had your previous interpretive dance so rudely interrupted, you decide to perform a dance in honour of your new scythe. You make sweeping motions to represent reaping grains, or possibly the souls of medieval peasants. You leap from one foot to the other, symbolising the leap of logic from the literal to the figurative. For the grand finale, you raise your scythe in both hands up to the sky (representing, of course, the bourgeoisie) then, while jumping in the air, bring it down through an arc, brushing against the cold earth beneath (to represent the dregs of society; human detritus) and holding it out at arm's reach, pirouetting with all your might, spinning once, twice, three times (the inevitability and twisted equality of death) - scythe whistling through the air - before coming to a beautifully composed stop.
This entire profound, unlikely orchestration is lit by the exquisitely sympathetic background of the forest behind you slowly burning, as the blaze from earlier has spread at an alarming rate - burning, just like that one unspent skill point burning a hole in your metaphorical pocket - and, of course, the ongoing battle between Continue-chan, Stove Stove and the mysterious girl in pink.
>>696
You feel strangely invigorated by your earlier dancing. You are consumed by the need to imbue your new tool with a name, one befitting a weapon of such calibre. "Asses of Badassness," you call out, "I summon thee!"
Continue-chan - and possibly Stove Stove as well, though it's hard to tell - are distracted by your declaration, and the girl in pink takes advantage with a single needle shot almost straight down towards Continue-chan. It impales her left foot, pinning it to the ground. Continue-chan grits her teeth, clearly in great pain but unable to relinquish her cool, stoic façade. She is, however, quite clearly immobilised and pinned in place, leaving her quite vulnerable.
Call girl in pink a mildly vulgar name.
When the MGiP swoops in to attack Continue, swipe at her neck with Asses of Badassness.
Seize the 700GET.