Go down down down down down
>>425
You aren't sure how to do that.
>>426
You agree ambiguously. To what, you're not quite sure.
>>427
"Tight osprey ankles." you say.
>>428
You are now playing as Ariadne Aaronova.
You pick up the little black object from the floor. It appears to have been damaged by high temperature, and recently - it's still warm. The longest sides are rougher than the other surfaces, as though they had some texture which has been melted into oblivion. You cannot even guess what it was supposed to be.
At any rate, you decide, you must mediate this altercation outside. Really, why can't Aaron and catkind simply get along? It's so frustrating! You hurl the mysterious object into the fray. It misses Jimmy and instead strikes Aaron in the right foot. He flinches and yells out something incoherent, at the same time dropping that odd white device he used earlier to dispose of those troublesome undead grunt bits. Jack dives in and catches it, points it at Aaron and demands that he relinquish his jetpack. He submits, returns to the ground and is again viciously attacked by Jimmy. Jack straps the jetpack on, launches away and traces a long trajectory off back across the river, without so much as a backwards glance.
>>429
She left you behind! You feel quite betrayed. Your mood goes down, down, down, down, down. Dragging your feet despondently, you head inside and begin to descend the spiral staircase into whatever dark, chthonic realm lies below. Moments later, Jimmy joins you, carrying that small black object in his mouth. The two of you make your way downwards in silence, one step at a time. The staircase continues for a very long time - it is at least five minutes before you reach the bottom.
Upon rounding the last corner you suddenly find yourself in a large open cavern, roughly fifty metres by fifty metres by three metres. It appears to have been formed from two parallel extinct lava tubes, with the intervening space bored out, and the floor and ceiling levelled off to a uniform height. Fluorescent strip lighting suspended from above illuminates row upon row of odd rectangular pods, each the size of a small bed, and each with a rounded cover of frosted glass.
"Would you believe, when I got here they were all empty?" asks a familiar voice. You whip around to find labcoat Jack standing beside you, having just emerged from a door to the left. "They're bodies for generating clones, in case it wasn't obvious. This is the little project I've been working on. Oh, and just in case you had an silly ideas about cloning that sorry bastard I blew up earlier, I already deleted his entry from the database, along with any others besides myself and the default "grunt" model. Anyway, is there anything I can help you with, oh partner in crime? Shouldn't you be out looking for Con-- for that girl?"
You are on a small metal walkway above the southern edge of the room. Behind you is the staircase leading back to the surface. To your left, two metal doors are set into the wall. One, from which Jack just emerged, is open, revealing a room containing a desk, computer, chair, and various shelves and boxes of miscellaneous spelunking equipment. The other door is closed and locked with a large padlock. There are four large, unlit tunnels leading out of the cavern; two to the north, sloping uphill, and two to the south, sloping downhill.
pause game
open settings menu
change interface language to ancient Macedonian
attempt to (ab)use the cloning apparatus to create a race of orcs for unscrupulous purposes
Explain that we came to ask labcoat Jack for a jetpack.
Explain that we came to pack asscoat lack for a pet Jack.
skube
Kiss cube lovingly.
Tell Jack that you want to give her love as large as Brontosaurus.
>>431
You aren't aware of any games you're playing, or how you would go about pausing such a thing, but you suppose you could always try ἄƒÐƒÎƒÇƒÉƒÍς ἀƒÏƒÈόƒË ἀƒÈƒÏƒÍƒÒƒËƒÍί ƒÂƒ¿ƒËῶƒË, ƒÈἄ ἨƒÊƒ¿ƒÆίƒ¿ ἰƒÄέƒÉƒ¿ ƒÉƒÃίƒÀƒÅƒÆƒÏƒÍƒË. ƒ¦ƒ¿ῦƒÉƒÍς ƒÂƒ¿ίƒÑƒ¿ς ƒÁῶƒÕ; ƒÈἄ ƒÎƒ¿ƒÏƒ¿ός ƒÈάƒÏƒ¿ƒÀƒÍς ἀƒÏƒÈόƒË ἐƒÎƒÇƒÂƒÃƒÇƒÎƒËίς. ƒ¤ƒÃƒÇƒÏƒÅƒËίς ἀƒÈƒÏέƒ¿ ƒÁƒÒƒÉƒÉάς ἄƒÏƒÁƒÃƒÉƒÉƒ¿ ἰƒË ƒÂέᾳ - ƒÂƒÏῆƒÃς‽ ƒ¢ƒ¿ƒËῶƒË! ƒ¤ƒÃƒÇƒÏƒÅƒËίς ƒÂƒ¿ƒËῶƒË! ἌƒÍƒÏƒÑής ƒÐίƒÁƒÒƒËƒÍς ἀƒÈόƒËƒÑƒÇƒÍƒË ƒÁάƒÏƒÈƒ¿ ƒÁƒÍƒÑάƒË ƒÂώƒÏƒ¿ƒÌ "ἰƒÄέƒÉƒ¿," ƒÎƒ¿ƒÏƒ¿ός ƒÊƒ¿ƒÑƒÑύƒÅς.
ƒ ίῤῥƒÍƒÌ ƒÁόƒÉƒ¿
ƒ¢άƒËƒÍς: 15
(ƒ©ƒÃίƒÀƒÅƒÆƒÏƒÍƒË ƒÈἄ ῥƒÍῦƒÑƒÍ ἄƒÂƒÂƒÃƒÃ ƒÉƒ¿ίƒÀƒ¿ ƒÈƒÍῖƒÍς: >>430)
>>432
Suppressing an evil laugh, you slip into the side office and begin meddling with the computer, attempting to twist the facilities to your own nefarious ends. Unfortunately, you find that there is an absurd number of variables, most of them quite ambiguously labelled, and the interface usability leaves something to be desired. Where... where is the orc setting? There must be one, surely?
Jack's raven-like face appears over your shoulder. "And what might you be up to?" she inquires with mock innocence.
>>433
She's onto you! Quick, evasive manoeuvres! "A-actually, I was going to ask you for a jetpack, you know, for, um, flying with, you know." You aren't the best of liars. "...And you thought you might find one in the cloning console?" she continues, one eyebrow raised.
>>434
"Um, um, I was going to... there's a lack of, um, a-asscoats, and I... you... my pet?" What are you talking about any more? Jack leans back, cocks her head and stares at you, clearly trying to work out what you just said. A long, painful silence passes. You are pinned down by her scrutinising gaze, afraid even to breathe.
>>435
You break out in a cold sweat. This is your last chance. You just have to say something - anything - to redeem yourself, and persuade Jack that you weren't really trying to commandeer the cloning apparatus.
"Skube," you say.
>>436
"...Ariadne, are you feeling alright?" she says at last. Having decided that vocal communication is simply not for you, you instead decide to try your luck with interpretive dance. You hop over to one of the smaller crates, pluck it from the shelf and smooch it for all you're worth.
>>437
Upon reflection, you decide to give speech one last chance, as there's something very important you have to say. "Jack, I... I love you! Even more than that box I just kissed! In fact, if my love were expressed as a physical object, it'd be at least as big as Rupert!"
Jack steps back in shock, and puts her hands to her mouth. "Ariadne, I... I love you too! I've always loved you! Oh, I'm so glad!" Tears of joy streaming down her cheeks, she rushes forwards, takes you in her arms and kisses you on the lips dramatically. You are caught up in the moment, lost to the sensation of her lips against yours, of her arms around your back, and of her whole body pressed against you. After a few precious moments, the two of you at last part, still gazing lovingly into one another's eyes.
There is a noise outside. It is faint, heavily distorted by the echoing of the tunnels, but sounds like a human voice, or several voices. It seems to be coming from one of the northward tunnels, but you can't tell for certain. It is getting closer. You whisper to Jack, who is still clinging to you, "What is that?"
"I don't know." she whispers back.
Quick! Assume battle positions ASAP! Stay frosty! Stay frosty!
Ask Jack to clone babies from a mix of our DNA.
Do lewd yuri stuff with Jack
Destroy the cloning apparatus. If I can't have my nefarious orcish GMOs, no one shall!
Protest that every being created by the apparatus should carry a GMO sticker with them.
What did you expect, a gold star for being a Jew?
>>439
Oh no! A fight is imminent! You wriggle free from Jack's embrace and take up position crouching by the door, peeking through a crack into the main chamber. It remains empty, but the echo of voices grows ever louder. At last, you begin to be able to make out words: "...together... try them on to see." The curious message is chanted with immense gravity. On "see", the voices suddenly stop. At the same time, you see a slight movement out of the corner of your eye coming from the northwest tunnel. You're sure it was too small and fast to be human.
>>440
You take Jack's hand in your own, and say to her "Jack, I... I think we should clone b--" "Of course!" she interjects explosively "We should clone some throwaway grunts and spring them on the intruders as an ambush! Good thinking, Ariadne." Happy as you are to be praised thus, that wasn't quite what you meant. You begin some weak objection, but Jack is already busily tapping away at the console.
>>441
That kiss earlier awakened an odd desire within you. You feel like you want to touch and be touched by Jack more. You reach out to her, but stop short of contact. The ten centimetre space between your hand and her shoulder seems to expand into an insurmountable gulf, and you feel all the weight of thousands of years of heteronormativity and sexual taboos wrench your hand back down to your side.
It... it really is abnormal, for a girl to like another girl, isn't it? And besides, do you really love her, or did you just say that to distract her from you meddling with the console? You feel strangely angry at yourself for being unable to properly understand your own feelings. But, you remind yourself, time heals all things; perhaps, when you have grown as a person a little more, you'll be able to properly love Jack, in mind and in body.
>>442
Jack, quite oblivious to what has just transpired behind her back, smacks the return key triumphantly and whispers "There! That should give them a surprise." You wait for her to get up and go to the door, then, without warning, externalise your internal conflict, taking it out on the poor, defenceless little computer. You pull the cables from the wall as hard as you can, and punch the side of the monitor (to little effect). The screen goes blank, but you haven't yet done any permanent damage when Jack grabs your arms and pulls you away.
"Ariadne!" she hisses into your ear, "What are you doing? You'll give away our position!" You manage to stammer out "I-it's your fault! B-baka!" She is quiet a moment, apparently reconsidering her actions, before asking cautiously, "What's my fault?"
>>443
"Y-you should've made it obvious that they were clones! With stickers!" Jack laughs and releases you, apparently passing it off as a joke. You decide it best to quit while you're ahead.
>>444
You ask yourself whether or not you were expecting a gold star, either metaphorically or literally. You're find that you were not.
Looking again through the crack in the door, you see that five of the pods near the north wall have peeled open, each disgorging a single man wearing grey combat armour. They mill about in a loose group, looking around expectantly. Then, a row of grunts files in from the opening to the northwest tunnel. These grunts are different; rather than combat armour, they wear off-white jumpsuits, many with mudstains. Each wields a makeshift wooden quarterstaff, with the exception of the one in the lead, who is wearing a headdress composed of various red feathers and flowers. He is holding what looks like a pile of leaves in one hand.
He approaches the newborn grunts and addresses them in an authoritative manner: "I am the voice of the High Priest of the Schismatics. You will join us or be slain where you stand." They look at one another uncertainly, bow their heads and join the back of the procession. With a single gesture from the lead grunt, the entire group then spreads out and begins investigating the room.
Jimmy, who, until now, was contentedly sitting under the desk, slips through the crack in the door and into the room. By the time you notice she is already out of hand's reach. Unless you do something, she might be in danger - or might endanger you and Jack by revealing your position.
Be Jimmy.
Seduce the High Priest with cute mewing.
Rustle somebody's jimmies.
>>447
You require Cat possession (passive skill) to play as Jimmy.
You feel a lump form in your stomach as you realise that not only your life, but Jack's too depends on what you do right now. It is times like these - when an individual's moral fibre is strained - that one discovers what one is truly capable of. Thinking quickly, you decide you must leave your shelter and confront those outside directly, so as to maintain the initiative. You cannot possibly hope to fight them; rather, you shall have to employ your womanly wiles and thereby placate them.
Without a word, you harden your resolve, push the door open and crawl into the room on all fours. You follow Jimmy (who, coincidentally, also seems to be heading for the grunt with the headdress) and successfully manage to bypass the roving minions, reaching the leader unnoticed. On closer inspection, you find he is holding a square of plaited grass covered in leaves. Its purpose isn't obvious.
You approach him from behind and nuzzle his leg, making a cute "nyaa" noise. He yelps in surprise, jumps away and spins around, back against of the clone pods. You kneel, lift one hand curled in the shape of a paw, and meow encouragingly. He furrows his brow and begins to say something, when, suddenly, his face goes blank. He stares vacantly at a spot vaguely behind you, then looks back and says "...Lady Ariadne. We have been looking for you. Please follow me." He bows to you reverently. This wasn't quite the response you were aiming for, but it'll do.
>>448
You find Jimmy lurking just behind you. Whose is she, anyway? I mean, she must be somebody's Jimmy. Does she belong to the other Jack, considering that's whose nether regions she inexplicably emerged from? Is she a stray? Who knows. You go ahead and rustle her coat a little with some vigorous stroking. She arcs her back in pleasure.
The leader and his entourage reconvene and begin to march back towards the northwest tunnel from which they came. You risk a glance backwards, to see the door in the south wall still slightly ajar. You can just make out a sliver of Jack's face on the other side. Your plan has succeeded; Jack is safe - but at what cost? You stare into the impenetrable darkness into which the procession is heading, thick and incorporeal as smoke. Should you really follow them? Or should you just make a run for it while you still can? Should you try to bring Jack with you, or leave her behind? And what of Jimmy? You had best decide quickly.
Follow them regally, carrying Jimmy.
be 200% nigga
Cartwheel down the hall!
kill all women
Summon the Gay Niggers from Outer Space to assist.
Become a Gay Nigger and go to space
Don't wear a space helmet. Space helmets are for lame ass honkeys.
Try to play the old "golf ball in the airhose" trick.
>>450
With only a little cajoling, you gather Jimmy into your arms and follow the line of grunts into the darkness. You walk in as stately a manner as you can muster for several minutes, accompanied only by the steady crunch of feet on volcanic glass. The tunnel winds gently downwards and to the right. The air slowly grows warmer, and you catch wafts of a rather unpleasant smell.
>>451
It's rather hard to properly intimidate people when you're just a little girl. Yes, that's it, you think to yourself, you just need to be 200% bigger! Any larger than that and you might bump your head in these underground passages. You look around for a cake marked "EAT ME" - which is the obvious way for any girl in your position to become bigger - without success.
>>452
All this solemn marching is rather offputting, you find. A nice display of acrobatics ought to lighten your mood, and, best of all, in the darkness, the rest of them will never even know! You extend all your limbs and begin to revolve along your merry way. Whoops! You forgot you were carrying Jimmy for a moment there. She is launched from your grip, screeching in alarm before colliding with something with a thump - probably the grunt ahead of you. You immediately hear her claws skittering against the floor, so she doesn't seem to have suffered any serious injury.
>>453
You stop mid-cartwheel, consumed by the immediate and overwhelming desire to commit complete femicide. And where better to start than the nearest woman; namely, yourself? You stick out your tongue and bite down as hard as you can, severing most of it. Ignoring the pain and taste of blood, you tip your head back and take a deep breath, lodging your severed tongue squarely in the top of your trachea. You silently collapse to the ground, unable even to gasp, before death finally claims you.
GAME OVER
Deaths: 16
(Continuing from most recent saved game: >>458)
>>454
Useful allies as they would no doubt be, you have no clue how you'd go about summoning them. Besides, you suspect they'd respond better to one of their terrestrial kin, whereas you are precisely what they have come to destroy.
>>455,456
Ah, the transcendental beauty of the extraterrestrial; the multitudinous clusters of stars, the music of the spheres, the infinite, all consuming empty void lying between every tiny fleck of matter... yes, you decide, the subterranean life is not for you after all. You simply must go see space for yourself, without even the merest layer of glass between you and it.
But first you must become a grave robber. Only then can you join the other grave robbers from outer space as one of them. Also, you'd probably have to find some way of escaping the Earth's gravity well, but that's a secondary concern.
>>457
You lack both the golf ball and airhose components of that particular parlour trick. Unless you were to improvise using your own windpipe and a suitable severed body part, but that seems rather macabre and horrible, really.
There is light at the end of the tunnel! An ominous reddish light, along with the sound of bubbling and the smell of sulphur. You round the last corner, finding yourself in an inflationary cave. It is shaped like a bubble, tilted to one side, with the lower portion flooded with magma. There is a raised section of floor in the centre of the cave, where the lead grunt is standing. Above him is a small metal lift, little larger than a dumbwaiter, currently ascending into a square hole in the ceiling. The odd square foliage thing he was carrying is on top, along with something else you cannot identify due to it being lit only from below.
One of the generic grunts comes forward and lies down on the raised section of cavern floor. You cautiously approach, unsure quite what's going on. The lead grunt addresses you: "The honour of conducting tonight's Christmas has been bestowed upon you. Please, do not hesitate." Christmas? What is he talking about? You look around at the nearby grunts, then down at the man at your feet. What are you supposed to do?
spinebuster the first living thing we see
Ask the grunt for a ceremonial stone knife.
Lick everybody's lips
Be the little girl
>>459
You look at the grunt on the floor. He stares at the ceiling, but his eyes flick uncertainly to your face once or twice as well. Suddenly, you know exactly what you must do. You grab him by the armpits and heave him unsteadily to his feet. He looks around uncertainly, and the grunt with the headdress is just beginning to suggest that forgiveness isn't really in the Christmas spirit, when you grab the grunt about the waist, try to launch him into the air (he's heavier than he looks!) and throw him, spine first, onto the hard cavern floor. He gasps, badly winded. You find yourself smiling with satisfaction.
>>460
You turn to the grunt with the red diadem and politely request a knife - perhaps of a ceremonial nature, perhaps even made of stone. He raises one eyebrow and says that sort of thing isn't usually necessary, but he'll see what he can do. Meanwhile, the little metal lift steadily descends back down from the hole in the ceiling, trailing cables from each corner. The plaited square of foliage is still there. He gets on, and the lift once again ascends into the darkness above.
>>461
He's gone! Now's your chance - you can make a run for it back to your beloved Jack, or attempt to usurp the high priest's control of this supposed church, or try to convince the grunts gathered here to go for a swim in the magma, or... oh, the possibilities are endless! You fail to suppress a mischievous little giggle.
But first, you have to prevent anything getting back to the high priest. You must seal everyone's lips. With your tongue, naturally. You skip from one grunt to the next, standing on your tiptoes, grabbing their cheeks in both hands and giving each of their mouths a good lick. They look terrified. One of them, when you get to him, covers his mouth with one hand, wails piteously and bolts into the tunnel from which you just came.
This seems to be a catalyst, as two more follow suit and one collapses to the floor, curled up and sucking his thumb. There are twelve grunts remaining, all of whom appear very distressed. You make encouraging, placating noises, to little effect.
>>462
What are you now? Are you a priestess? Or a pontiff? You can only continue playing things by ear for so long; sooner or later you're going to have to decide what you are to be. For now, however, you decide to keep things simple: you are simply a little girl. There is no need to complicate things any further than that.
While the cat's away the mice will play, but the lead grunt will probably be back before long, and with him your obligation to celebrate christmas.
Rip open the grunt on the floor, pull out his innards and hide in his carcass.
get on the floor and walk the dinosaur
>>464
Look at them, all afraid of nothing - well, you'll give them something to be afraid of! "Ufufufu!" you chuckle to yourself. After a brief scan of the area, you find a conveniently shaped flake of obsidian, and, brandishing it, return to the grunt on the floor. With a flourish, you plunge it into his abdomen. He gasps in pain, but before he can draw enough breath to scream, you lever it under his sternum and pull up as hard as you can. It slips off to one side, displaces two ribs and traces a jagged gash up most of his chest. Mercifully, he passes out.
You continue hacking away, gutting him like an animal. You find it altogether quite satisfying once you get into it. Once the ribs are out of the way, you begin tearing out his viscera and throwing it aside. The other grunts are, by this point, all reduced to gibbering wrecks. The grunt you are working on soon enough passes away, granting you one skill point and fifty mana.
Unfortunately, you find that his thoracic cavity is not nearly spacious enough to accommodate you. You are just considering skinning the corpse and wearing the skin over your own when you are interrupted by the lift in the centre of the cave descending. It's the grunt with the red headdress again.
>>465
Dammit, if only you had a little more time, you could've dressed up as the grunt and fooled him into thinking you'd turned into someone else! Perhaps you still can - these grunts aren't the brightest of creatures, after all - by imitating... imitating... that's it! You get on all fours in the most Rupert-ish posture you can muster and plod around, seeking some greenery to masticate. Just like the genuine article.
"Lady Ariadne," begins the grunt, without batting an eyelid, "I am very sorry. Firstly, I was unable to procure for you a ceremonial stone knife. Secondly, an urgent church matter has arisen. I must lead the congregation to the site right away. As for you... the High Priest wishes to speak with you." He gestures to the lift.
You pause where you are, uncertain as to what to do. Taking your inaction for confusion, the grunt clarifies: "I am not the High Priest. I am only His voice; His conduit to the congregation. Now, please, it would not do to keep Him waiting."
The grunts all exit back into the lava tube, chanting something low and incomprehensible, leaving you and Jimmy behind. You look up at the dark shaft in the ceiling, into which the lift will ascend. The high priest, indeed! What could he possibly want with you? Perhaps for you to join his congregation? And, if you do go see him, is there perchance anything you want to ask of him?
Go see the High Priest and ask him for some drugs so we can get high too.
Wait who are we again?
>>467
With only a little trepidation, you board the lift, accompanied by Jimmy. It ascends silently on well oiled pulleys, up through the hole in the ceiling and several metres beyond. The lift comes to a stop in complete darkness. It feels cool, and a faint breeze is coming from the North. Before you can fully orient yourself a deep, rough voice speaks - not out loud, but directly inside your head.
"It is a pleasure to meet you again, Ariadne." it says. You are quite certain you've never heard this voice before. "I am the High Priest of the Schismatics. I must thank you for conducting tonight's christmas. I trust everything went to plan, and you didn't do anything silly like fail to dedicate the sacrifice to our god, or anything like that." The voice chuckles to itself.
"These are exciting times for our church. We have recently located one of the two artifacts sacred to our faith: an engraved ceremonial altar, used for christmases past. The congregation has just been sent out to reacquire it. Meanwhile, I would like for you to locate and retrieve the other artifact: a certain ceremonial stone dagger. It was last seen in the possession of the fallen high priestess - I believe you know her?" the voice suggests. "Naturally, you will be amply rewarded for your work."
You take the opportunity to request some sort of narcotics by way of reimbursement. "A budding lotophage, are you? Of course, I can provide you the sweet oblivion you seek." replies the high priest.
>>468
You are currently playing as Ariadne Aaronova - also known as the Pontiff - an enigmatic young amnesiac with a love of all things cute. You are the foster daughter of Aaron Aaronovitch Aaronov (a well intentioned but cowardly and incompetent gentleman), foster sister of Jack Aaronova (a violent cutthroat high priestess with an unexpected gentle side) and lover of Jack Conundrum-chan (a mysterious girl with an equally mysterious agenda). You are also well acquainted with the cats Theodore (a male tortoiseshell) and Jimmy Sphincter (a female Bengal cat).
You currently have in your inventory an ornate frilly lilac dress (somewhat bloodstained) and a small shard of obsidian. You have one unspent skillpoint and fifty mana.
The high priest, apparently considering the matter closed, bids you farewell and you feel yourself silently descend back down again. You take a deep breath and are just about to begin thinking about your immediate future when you arrive back in the cave. You are more than a little surprised to find that the grunt you disembowelled earlier is upright and walking, entrails still trailing loosely from its abdomen. The corpse is at the tunnel mouth, shuffling forwards, when suddenly its head whips around to face you. You are caught in its glassy, vacant gaze as it turns and begins to lumber towards you.
It is only around three metres away, and is blocking the way out to the tunnel. Around you there is a large pool of magma, a few small stones and a small pile of viscera you removed earlier. The lift is quite static, with no obvious controls. Jimmy is currently cowering by your heels.
punch him in the dick boy
punch him in the dick boy
punch him in the diiiiick
punch him in the diiiiick
Stand at the edge of the magma and taunt the undead grunt to lure him closer. At the last moment run around and push him in!
Remember to put the gained skill point into the God stat to become a GOD.
After which do a silly dance. And kick the priest in the dick.
ladies first
>>470
Well, this simply won't do at all, you decide. The dead are supposed to be dead, after all. You shall have to put this overactive cadaver in its place once and for all. You crouch, wait for it to come within range, then lunge in, delivering a crippling uppercut to the crotch. You follow up with more blows, but the corpse doesn't even flinch. It grabs you by the throat and lifts you clean off the ground. You kick and struggle for all you are worth, to no avail. The world fades away to black.
GAME OVER
Deaths: 17
(Continuing from most recent saved game: >>469)
>>471
You retreat as close as you can get to the magma (not that close, actually; it's really rather hot, you know) and dramatically exclaim "Oh, woe is me! I'm just a poor defenceless maiden, trapped here with this vicious monster! There is no hope for me!" It continues to stumble towards you as before. You try to convince yourself that your sweating is just from the heat and your shaking legs are just part of the lure, but lack quite that level of sangfroid.
Once the grunt corpse is close enough, you duck to the left, trying to get behind it and push. It swipes at you in passing, however, grabbing you by the hair. You kick at its feet, successfully overbalancing it, and it falls face first into the magma. You barely manage to avoid being pulled with it, though you lose a little of your hair in the process. There is a loud hissing as the grunt's flesh sinks into the seething molten rock. Its limbs flail around, but you pin its back down with one foot and push it further in. Eventually, it stops moving.
>>472
Unfortunately, it would appear that God is not a valid skill. Your available skills are aerokinesis, geokinesis, biokinesis, hypnosis, technomancy and ailuromancy. Being a god sounds rather bothersome anyway, what with people trying to prove you don't exist and silly things like that. Speaking of silly, you decide to do a little jig on the spot to celebrate overcoming that fearsome opponent. Hooray!
More importantly, that smug little high priest didn't lift a finger to help you! Why, for all you know, it might even have been him who reanimated the corpse! Necessity is the mother of invention, and your need to kick him between the legs provides the seed of ingenuity for you to climb up the lift cables to go find him again.
The space above is as dark and mysterious as before. The high priest does not talk to you this time, but you can hear an odd noise you cannot quite place. It sounds like some sort of low growling or rumbling, but distorted by echoes. You try to explore the area around you, but fail to locate the priest - or anything else for that matter. The space is clearly quite large and seemingly empty.
Your searching is interrupted by a thumping noise. Looking down the lift shaft, you see that your undead friend is back - despite its head being encased in freshly formed basalt - and wants to come say hello. What now, you ask yourself: do you focus on tracking down that elusive priest, or prioritise your own personal safety by eliminating that wretched grunt first?
>>473
Well, naturally, you, as the lady in the situation, take priority. Without hesitation, you jump feet first down the shaft, straight onto the grunt's head. It breaks your fall nicely, collapsing to the cavern floor with a crunch. You hop off its prone body to find Jack Conundrum-chan at the mouth of the cave. She rushes over and embraces you, expounding how glad she is you're safe. She says that Jimmy came to fetch her and led her here - indeed, the feline in question is just behind her.
Even now, the corpse simply won't stay dead. It begins to rise back to its feet before your very eyes.
Put skill point into geokinesis, then use Conundrum-chan as a human shield.
Use the geokinesis to create a bunch of golems and shit and get the golems to rape the undead piece of shit with their fists until the shitty zombie thing is turned into soup.
Then sex up Conundrum-chan while the golems kill and rape everything else that could ruin the making of fuck.
Pee on the undead.
update java
>>475
You place one skillpoint into geokinesis. You have unlocked the following skill:
You hide behind Conundrum-chan. Jimmy hides behind you. Conundrum-chan hides behind Jimmy. The three of you end up in one tangled mass of limbs, all tripping over yourselves trying to retreat from the grunt corpse.
>>476
You begin piling up little stones you find lying around into four vaguely humanoid/faecal shapes. You spend twenty mana (leaving thirty remaining) metamorphosing them, causing the limbs to fuse in place. You are left with four lumpy humanoid figures, each with a little layered pile of ordure upon their heads. They are each only about ten centimetres tall, and - as rocks tend to be - not awfully lively. You certainly wouldn't trust them to turn the rapidly advancing corpse into broth.
Conundrum-chan grabs your hand and pulls you away towards the mouth of the tunnel. Some combination of the unexpected skinship and your recent emotional turmoil causes the thought to flit through your head that she is drawing you away in the interests of doing something lewd with you - oh my! I mean, perhaps you wouldn't say no, but...
Whatever her intentions, you let yourself be led away into relative safety of the mouth of the lava tube, hoping without much conviction that your little golems will be able to hold off the undead menace.
>>477
Gosh, that corpse is simply so irritating! Like a nettle or jellyfish sting! Perhaps, you muse, it might be treated in a similar way. Ignoring her protestations, you let go of Conundrum-chan's hand, turn on your heel, rush towards the irritative undead and, at the last moment, flip up your skirt and drop your pantsu. Strain as you might, however, your bladder won't comply. You just can't go with somebody watching.
"No, Ariadne! The crotch thing only works if they can see it!" exclaims Conundrum-chan, already rushing towards you, but too late. It swipes at the side of your head, knocking you brutally to the ground. Skull fractured and spine dislocated, you die the moment you hit the ground.
GAME OVER
Deaths: 18
(Continuing from most recent saved game: >>479)
>>478
As a bastion of Indonesian culture, you feel it is vital that you provide the island of Java with an update on recent events. They won't believe it! I mean, the thing with the golems and all? At any rate, you aren't going to find any ways of contacting them in this cave. You run away with Conundrum-chan into the darkness.
Despite sweaty palms, you don't let go of her hand until the two of you (three, including Jimmy) are back in the room with all the cloning apparatus. You cannot see or hear the corpse, but it may still be following you. You and Conundrum-chan rest against one of the pods, catching your breaths. You begin to consider your next plan of action.
You have just emerged from the northwest tunnel. There is another leading northwards in the northeast corner, and two leading southwards in the southwest and southeast corners. There is also the spiral staircase leading to the surface. If you go that way, however, you'll have no way of crossing the river (if that's even what you want). You seem to recall the office with the cloning console had some useful looking equipment, if, on the other hand, you're planning on any more subterranean adventures.
You aren't sure which way Java is.
>>479
If cloning apparatus is functional, create /at least 100/ clones of yourself.
Send one to pee on the undead while the others block up the tunnel you just passed through.
If cloning apparatus is not functional, take the north tunnel.
Find a pickaxe or similar tool, first.
>>481
You enter the office in the south wall of the room. Conundrum-chan follows you, grabs a small white box from the shelf and says, with slightly artificial nonchalance, that she has something to take care of quickly and she'll be right back. You hear a jangling as the padlock is removed from the locked door next to the office, then a faint creak as it opens and shuts again.
You search the shelves for a pickaxe, finding in the process many cardboard boxes full of rocks, various stationery (paper, sample bags and such), a coil of rope, a canister of fuel, an electric torch, a pile of large white candles, a box of matches and two boxes full of Kendal mint cakes, amongst other things. After much rummaging, you find a geologist's hammer, which you keep.
>>480
As Jack is away, you find yourself feeling a little mischievous. You find the cloning console still inoperative after your little outburst back at >>445, with the various cables disconnected from the rear of the machine. You plug them back in one at a time wherever they will go, push the power switch and are relieved to see the display spark back into life. After a minute's booting, you are confronted with the same convoluted interface as earlier.
Unfortunately, there are only two templates to choose from, labelled "factory" and "C0". From observing Conundrum-chan earlier, you know that "factory" corresponds to the default grunts. You aren't sure what "C0" means, but you have no reason to suppose it corresponds to yourself, and you have no idea how to add yourself to the database - if that's even possible.
Disappointed, you decide to go exploring a little. Conundrum-chan is still busy doing Conundrum-chan-ish things in the room next door. Without a word, you embark along the northeast tunnel. It tilts generally upwards, banking gently eastwards. After walking for about a hundred metres, the darkness is complete, and you cannot see a thing. You can feel a slight breeze coming from ahead.
Make more golems and keep them with you. Be prepared to chuck them at any signs of danger and hope that they'll cling on to whatever they hit and slow it down by dry humping it!
stop hitting yourself
stop hitting yourself
stop hitting yourself
stop hitting yourself
stop hitting yourself
stop hitting yourself
stop hitting yourself
Follow the breeze~
>>483
Groping around on the cavern floor, you amass three more little humanoid piles of rock, each somewhat larger than your previous works. With an expenditure of twenty mana (leaving ten remaining) you fuse them into their given forms - sadly, your skills in the dark arts aren't yet sufficient to grant them life. You tuck them into the pockets of your frilly dress, close at hand should they need to be used as improvised missiles. Whilst you're at it, you name them Alecto, Megaera and Tisiphone.
>>484
In order to stop hitting yourself, you would first have to start hitting yourself. You start by slapping yourself in the right cheek, as hard as you can. With a sound like a thunderclap, you are left with a stinging pain and a vague feeling of offence. Well, at least now you can stop hitting yourself.
But then, without warning, you strike yourself again, this time in the left cheek. The pain is still lancing through your head when you feel a sharp blow to the solar plexus. Why is this happening? You try as hard as you can to stop hitting yourself, but your body shows no mercy on you. It knows your every weakness, and is more than willing to exploit them.
Curled up in the foetal position, on the cold hard cavern floor, plunged in darkness and slowly being beaten to death by yourself, you are on the verge of despair when one last quantum of hope flickers into life in the back of your head. Your golems! Yes, you made them precisely for this sort of situation. You just have to throw them at yourself, and then hopefully you can force yourself to stop hitting yourself. What could possibly go wrong?
You launch your three Erinyes directly upwards in quick succession, hoping that they'll cling to your limbs and dry hump them into submission. Instead, they strike you in the head, one by one, the last knocking the final spark of life from your beaten body.
GAME OVER
Deaths: 19
(Continuing from most recent saved game: >>486)
>>485
Furies pocketed, you decide to follow the gentle breeze that is now flowing playfully through your hair. But what does "following" mean in this case? Are you going to follow it in the direction it's going back to where you came from, or follow it in the direction you're going back to where it came from? You decide the latter sounds like the more interesting path to take.
You continue to follow the lava tube. It grows narrow and branches, often braiding apart and together again, like streams in a river delta. The faint, cool touch of the wind against your cheek guides you ever onwards. Eventually you find yourself in a tunnel so narrow you have to crawl on your hands and knees, growing narrower still up ahead. The breeze is strong here, and you can almost smell the delicate tropical scents of the rainforest outside. Despite your slender frame, the passage seems dangerously constrictive. You feel some trepidation about advancing any further.
Keep going, using the geologists' hammer to open a path if necessary.
Check em
Compose a haiku of love for Jack
>>487
Well, you shan't stop here! With a deep breath, you press on into the claustrophobic little fissure ahead. Feeling about by hand, you discover it is somewhat wider than it is tall, but still only barely wider than your shoulder width. You reach in with your handy little hammer and chip away at the edges. With some encouragement the rock peels away in large flakes, allowing you a little more breathing space, but not awfully much. You proceed, pulling yourself along by your elbows, hacking away as necessary at the passage walls.
About two or three metres in, the passage suddenly and sharply turns upwards. You manage to contort your upper body past the bend in the tunnel, but then, to your dismay, find yourself stuck. You can neither advance further nor go back, and cannot get a good angle with the geologist's hammer to widen the constricting region around your hips. An uncomfortable lump forms in your throat as you realise that, unless you can somehow extricate yourself from this predicament, it could be the end of you.
>>488
While you're here, you decide you may as well check on the local electromagnetism. Firstly and most obviously, the fact you cannot see anything suggests a lack of radiation in the visible spectrum. Similarly, the only likely source of UV - that is, the Sun - is nowhere to be seen. The air is quite cool, suggesting only a little IR, most of it probably coming from you. You find yourself somewhat troubled by the fact that there could hypothetically be any amount of radio, microwave, X-ray or gamma radiation passing through your little body this very second and you'd have no way of knowing.
>>489
Oh, if only Jack were here to help you!
Two budding lilies
The dew drips from my petals
Can we ever bloom?
Concentrate on regaining forgotten powers to save us from this predicament.
offer water to the deceased through tear ducts
>>491
You screw your eyes closed and retreat within, delving beneath the murky waters of introspection in the hopes that you can retrieve some sort of ambiguous ability possessed by your former, pre-amnesia self that could help free you. But what, and how? How could another consciousness in your current position possibly do anything you can't already? You fail to gain anything more than a headache, but have the vague feeling that your memories are not lost forever. If only you had some sort of concrete memento or prompt of your former life...
>>492
The frustration and helplessness which you had, so far, been able to suppress, wells up within you and erupts as a deluge of tears. You cry into the darkness, alternately sobbing piteously and wailing with anguish. The tears flow down your cheeks in five rivulets that swell into vast rivers and circle the Underworld seven times. The multitudinous souls of the dead bathe in your tears and suffer as you have.
Or perhaps you're getting a little carried away. All this melodrama is actually a little embarrassing and unbecoming of an upstanding, independent young lady like yourself, you decide. You are just settling down and beginning to wonder what to do with the rest of the time between now and dying of thirst, when you hear a familiar voice in the back of your head.
"Who are you? And what are you doing in there?" It sounds like the high priest.
"I am a Christmas Miracle! And I was in this pantry looking for Christmas Tea for the tea party!"
It doesn't matter who we are, what matters is our plan.
A girl. A plan. A canal. Palriga.
It must be a trap! Pee on high priest.
Make a forceful penetration despite knowing that it's a trap.
>>494
Thinking fast, you realise it might be prudent to overstate your own religious zealotry in order to gain the favour of the high priest - but, at the same time, you are simply too embarrassed to admit that you managed to get yourself stuck here. You claim it's all in preparation for christmas, but are caught out. "Ariadne, that's you, isn't it? We already celebrated Christmas for today. You led the ceremony, remember?"
>>495
"Never mind that!" you counter, "More importantly, we must get on with the plan!" After a moment's contemplation, the high priest replies "You mean obtaining the stone dagger?"
>>496
"No, I mean constructing the Palriga Canal!"
Your ambition shocks the him into silence - momentarily, at least. Then, apparently discarding the issue, he says simply, "I'm afraid you're blocking the way I need to go. This passage wasn't meant for you anyway." You dodge the issue as far as you can, but eventually are forced to concede that you're stuck. The high priest casually offers to help you out.
>>497
No! He's going to do something weird to you while you're helpless! You try to expel some sort of deterrent chemical from your lower body, before remembering that you're not a skunk and that urinating is probably not going to help your situation much. You try anyway, but just the thought that he's watching you causes you to freeze up.
You feel something hairy brush against your legs, then hear a tearing sound. You find that pockets of your dress containing Alecto and Tisiphone have been torn open. Ah, those must've been what you were caught on! You hadn't even noticed. You wriggle loose, rearrange your possessions, and then renegotiate the narrow crook in the passage. You pass, this time, with only minor discomfort, and crawl onwards through the winding darkness until finally reaching an exit.
You stand up and inspect your surroundings, finding yourself back on the surface. You are on the eastern bank of the major river you flew over earlier. It is dusk. The sky to the west is still light, but rapidly darkening, and you can already make out a few stars above. To the east is nothing but open jungle. You can hear various unidentifiable sounds and faint vocalisations coming from the southeast.
A small, dark shape comes flying from the tunnel entrance and instantly vanishes into the undergrowth.
>>498
Fully aware of the implications of your actions, you forcefully swing your geologist's hammer at the bank of the river. It is made of clay - soft, but relatively impermeable. You swing, again and again, finally breaking through into the tunnel. The river water rushes into the gap, gurgling away into the underground. There! That counts as a canal by your standards. I mean, you should probably add some locks, but you can always sort that out later.
Yell at the rocks!
VC:rock
Chill out by the canal.
VC: chillor
>>500
Gosh, you think to yourself, you've been trapped underground for hours! What a gruelling experience. You take a deep breath of the cool, fragrant night air and shout - with much intensity but little articulation - at the ground beneath your feet. You express your triumph at leaving that foul underworld, your frustration at being inextricably trapped on or near the surface of this huge spinning ball of rock, and your vague fear of what unknown things might still lurk in those dark, serpentine tunnels that weave beneath your feet. You feel somewhat better for it.
>>501
You brush at your dress - once beautiful and ornate, now badly worn, tattered in places and soaked in blood and sweat - and take a seat on the bank of the Palriga Canal. It is only about thirty centimetres across, but nonetheless a fine piece of amateur civil engineering. The sound of the river water flowing smoothly down the tunnel you came from is quite soothing as well. As you are waiting, the moon begins to rise from the east, casting a faint, pallid illumination over everything.
You hear movement in the bushes to the south. Perhaps your shouting earlier attracted some attention? Before you can do more than get to your feet, two grunts emerge from the foliage. They are both wielding what appear to be wooden spears. You cannot see their facial expressions, but they seem quite nervous and are keeping their distance from you. One of them gestures towards you. You cannot tell if it's a threat or an invitation.
Invite the grunts to join us: Under the moon, loli to issho. If they attack, push them into the canal. If necessary, use aikido to disarm them.
>>503
You spread your arms and warmly invite your new friends to join you and fulfil their every sublunar fantasy. They baulk at the gesture, raising their spears but also backing away. A third figure appears from behind them, slightly hunched, with an odd bulge on their back. A stray moonbeam happens to glance from their face, revealing them to be none other than Jack Aaronova! You rush to embrace your long lost sister, but are interrupted by the grunts.
Given the low lighting you cannot make out exactly what happens, but from what you can see, the grunt on the right (nearer the river) suddenly stiffens, turns to the other grunt and, with one quick jab, stabs him in the neck with his spear. The other grunt gurgles in distress and grasps the spear to pull it out, but then collapses to the ground. The offending grunt frees his weapon and stands, back to the river, facing Jack.
Your best friend is under attack! Thinking fast, you hop across the canal, step into the shallows just off the river bank and sneak up behind him. The grunt begins to lunge for Jack - who safely dodges out of the way - at which point you charge him, grabbing him about the waist and pushing him headfirst into the mouth of the tunnel into which the Palriga flows. He slips straight in, losing hold of the spear in the process. He struggles for a minute or so, but is unable to escape from the hole, and eventually stops moving.
For killing a sapient being, you have gained one skill point and fifty mana.
Jack wraps her arms around you and breathes a heavy sigh of relief. "I... I've never seen one of them turn like that... I thought they always... Oh, what does it matter now? I'm so glad to see you, Ariadne, but we have to go. It's not safe here." She presses something into your hands, insisting that you need it more than she does. It appears to be the odd white electric weapon she took from Aaron back at >>430. On closer inspection, you realise that the bulge on her back is Aaron's jetpack. She is still wielding the ceremonial stone knife in her right hand.
Hold on to Jack.
Be Jack.
Fly straight up forever.
Put the skill point into learning Hokuto Shinken! If not possible for whatever reason, then put it into making the stupid ROCK powers less shite.
Ask Jack if she's a Gundam.
fly north
>>505
You clasp your arms around Jack's neck, clinging to her warmly and taking comfort in the sensation of her body against yours.
You are now playing as Jack Aaronova.
Argh! What's this girl doing touching you suddenly‽ You try to politely brush her off, but she simply nuzzles closer to you. Well, you decide, if she's not going to listen then you'll just have to force her to let go. Without a word, you grasp the throttle of the jetpack and push as hard as you can. The two of you are launched high into the still night air.
Ariadne squeals, but does not let go - and, unbelievably, clings closer to you still. You accelerate ever upwards, unheeding. Your unwitting passenger shouts something, but you cannot even hear it over the noise of the wind. Looking around, your view of the surrounding rainforest unfolds beneath you. A short distance to the north is the camp of which you are high priestess, where you were returning to before meeting Ariadne. Elsewhere, the river meanders silently down the valley, as strange, inscrutable shapes poke out from the forest canopy, swaying in the moonlight.
Still, you keep flying upwards towards the infinite starry expanse above. Your camp is nothing but a tiny speck, hundreds of metres below you now. You can now see across the mountain ridges to the east and west, separating this valley from its neighbours. Some distance to the west is something emitting a decidedly unnatural blue light, but it's too dark and too distant to even guess what it might be.
You are enjoying your tour of the troposphere so much, you forget what you were even trying to do to begin with. It is so very peaceful up here. You relax, feeling the cool breeze against your face. At that moment, with a splutter and a lurch, the jetpack abruptly cuts out. You stab at the controls, trying to will some life back into it, but to no avail. You cannot tell for certain, but you suspect it might've run out of fuel.
The two of you tumble back to the unforgiving ground below, screaming the whole way. Your Icarian fall concludes with your unwelcome reintroduction to the Earth. You die horribly on impact.
GAME OVER
Deaths: 20
(Continuing from most recent saved game: >>504)
>>506
Unfortunately, none of the available skills presents a clear path towards learning that particular martial art. You can't help but feel all the exploding body parts and such seem rather unladylike, anyhow. Instead, you sensibly invest your one free skill point into geokinesis, unlocking the following skill:
Jack unilaterally denies being, or having ever been, a Gundam.
>>507
Lacking the power of flight yourself, you settle for hitching a ride on Jack's jetpack. You have no difficulty persuading her to head northwards, as she says that's where she was heading anyway. After a brief but exhilarating flight across the treetops, the two of you land in a broad clearing with a large bonfire at its centre. There are fearful looking, ill equipped grunts loitering around in small clumps around the place. Next to the fire is a large stone object which you cannot quite see from where you are.
Jack is just starting to say something, when there comes a loud cry from the forest to the east. Five grunts emerge, each dressed in identical off-white jumpsuits. Four are wielding wooden sticks with oddly bulbous ends, while the central one - who, coincidentally, is also wearing a rather familiar red headdress - wields instead a solid silver aspergillum. With a dramatic war cry, they charge into the clearing, catching several of the native grunts off guard and knocking them to the ground. From the north come another six invaders, catching more of the natives in a pincer manoeuvre.
Jack raises her bloodstained knife, screams defiantly and leaps into the fray. You feel compelled to join the battle yourself.
What do the Kha'ak want?
giggle at the word "aspergillum"
Throw the dry humping golems! Then make a stone baseball bat or club or some shit like one and beat them all to death!
Ask Jack what she'd do if she were a Gundam. Ask Jack if she likes G Gundam. Then, lean towards Jack and softly whisper to Jack: "Gandamu"
Does it cost 5 mana per minute, per rock? Or just 5 mana per minute regardless of how many rocks? Anyway, shove rocks into the central grunt's mouth, then animate one or all of them to rip apart their organs from the inside out.
>>509
But before you can defend yourself, your sister and her tribe against the incipient murder and pillaging, you must establish what the Kha'ak want. Wait, what? What is a Kha'ak? You try to recall how this curious thought found its way into your head - perhaps it might even be some remnant of your former self's memories! Frantically, you attempt to tease apart the threads of association with this word "Kha'ak", like a young child following the strings of a puppet back to the puppeteer.
As you are busy with this futile endeavour, Jack leads a small band of four grunts against the secondary contingent. She manages to kill two of the attackers with her knife, and one more is struck down by one of her underlings. For every invader that falls, however, two more take its place, leaving nine on the north front. To the east, another six emerge behind the headdress-wearing grunt, making eleven. Native grunts are being slaughtered or forced to retreat left right and centre.
One from the east approaches you, staff raised ready to bring down onto your skull. Now's the time! You have both the geologist's pick and the electric device at hand; all you have to do is evade this clumsy attack and fell the invader, which shouldn't be too difficult unless you get distracted by... wait, what's that thing in the leading grunt's hand? Is that an ...?
>>510
"Hehehe, it sounds like asparagus!" you giggle to yourself. Unimpeded, the grunt splits your fragile skull asunder, the fragments of which tear into your frontal lobe, killing you instantly.
GAME OVER
Deaths: 21
(Continuing from most recent saved game: >>508)
>>511
You decide it is time for your stony Furies to fly the nest. Megaera strikes an invading grunt in the shin, leaving him to be stabbed in the face by an opportunistic native. Alecto almost strikes the leading grunt, but he ducks just in time, leaving her to land harmlessly in the undergrowth outside the clearing. Finally, Tisiphone strikes an invader at the back of the group squarely in the head, causing him to collapse like a sack of potatoes.
For killing a sapient being, you have gained one skill point and fifty mana.
The ground around here consists of well beaten dirt, without any available stones - large or small - that you could fuse together into a weapon. Nothing else in your inventory appears particularly conducive to beating others to death.
Perhaps this killing business isn't for you after all. You decide to try encouraging Jack instead, as she could probably do with it. But traditional cheerleading always seemed so insincere; you elect to lift her spirits with some engaging conversation instead. You attempt to inflame her imagination with a theoretical exercise in being a giant humanoid robot, but she makes no response. Falling back on something a little less mentally taxing, you inquire as to her disposition towards the more modern entries to the franchise, and whether they live up to their predecessors.
Jack, momentarily distracted by you, is struck a glancing blow to the side by one of the grunts attacking her. Risking a foray into the front line, you charge in, dodging many crushing blows, until you are crouched by Jack. "Gandamu" you whisper, carefully enunciating each syllable. Apparently indifferent, she gets back to her feet and gets back to the carnage.
>>512
Basic rock animation (active skill) costs five mana per minute per discrete stone object animated.
You happen to notice, conveniently enough, that you still have a single shard of obsidian tucked into your back pocket which you picked up back at >>466. You skip over to the grunt with the headdress, with a cunning plan dancing in the back of your head. "Oh no!" you wail, "Please, help me! I've been taken hostage by this horrible tribe!" He hesitates, aspergillum ready to be swung, and opens his mouth to say something.
This is the only opening you need. You jam the obsidian shard into his mouth and will it to move around inside. He makes some panicked vocalisations, drops his weapon and, with both hands, digs in his mouth, trying to pull it out - but too late. He falls to his knees, blood erupting from his mouth. It takes more than a minute of the stone digging around before, finally, he stops moving.
For killing a sapient being, you have gained one skill point and fifty mana. You currently have two unspent skill points and 150 mana.
With their leader killed, the invaders all suddenly turn to you and, in unison, scatter and run back into the forest. There is a tense silence, with you, Jack and the remaining natives all looking and listening as hard as possible, waiting for them to regroup and attack in a second wave. Instead, you hear a rhythmic thumping from the east, and a tall, dark shape appears above the trees, silhouetted against the rising moon.
It reveals itself to be Rupert. The booming voice of the high priest resonates through your mind: "YOU DARE DEFY THE WILL OF THE CHURCH OF THE SCHISMATICS‽" Rupert steps into the clearing, lit majestically from beneath by the firelight. You finally see a small shape on his head: a certain tortoiseshell cat, standing human-like on his hind legs, with an elaborate red headdress atop his little head.
"I WILL EXTERMINATE EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU PATHETIC WRETCHES!" declares Theodore, High Priest of the Schismatics.
Jack has the passive skill cat possession, right? So we should be able to play as Theodore. Be Theodore and don't exterminate anybody. Order the grunts to throw their weapons into the river, then come down from Rupert and do cute cat things.
eat self
Put the skill points into the shitty rock powers and learn to make sexy rock armor. And maybe make good rock weapons that don't suck.
Also, collect a bunch of rocks along the way and fuse them into the sexy rock armor that isn't too heavy but is strong enough to withstand a ton of shit. And the weapon, there needs to be a suitable weapon with the sexy rock armor.
Ask Jack her opinion on Megaman. Tell her you like the white Megaman.
Maybe pick up the golems to bring them with you.
>>515
You are now playing as Jack Aaronova.
Via your cat possession (passive skill), you are now playing as Theodore.
Looking down upon the miserable little humans you are about to crush, an odd feeling stirs within your breast. It reminds you of that sudden avariciousness that came over you some time around >>334 when you discovered that killing people can bestow arcane powers upon you. Despite previously being more than satisfied with your own natural abilities, you were then overcome by a thirst for power, especially power over others.
Hence why, once separated from Ariadne, you ended up founding a religious sect, sacrificing some of your worshippers and spending the resultant skill points in the hypnosis skill. This proved rather useful, especially the ability to project thoughts. As time has passed, however, you have discovered a worrying trend of taking on more and more human traits. You can't even remember when you started walking on your hind legs, but quadrupedal motion already feels unnatural.
Looking down from your lofty vantage point, you lock eyes with that simpering little girl with the lilac dress. And yet - damn it all! - you cannot think of anything but that warm sensation of being curled up in her lap and stroked and loved by her. Her once beautiful clothing is now torn and dirtied and - oh no, is that blood? What have you done‽
Without a thought, you call off the invasion, projecting the message to all of your subjects in range, and using up almost all of your remaining mana in the process. You dismount your proud steed and return to land. Thankfully it seems your mistress isn't seriously injured, if at all, but the shock is still enough to convince you to abandon your recent way of life.
On all fours, you scamper over to Ariadne and rub affectionately at her legs. Apparently completely forgetting your recent threat, she playfully rubs your belly. You revel in the existentialist authenticity of being a cat and doing catty things. You purr in delight.
>>516
Momentarily forgetting what it is cats do, you end up chasing your own tail and trying to eat it, like a furry little ouroboros. You fail to catch it.
>>517
You don't have any available skill points. As a perfectly ordinary, everyday, innocent feline, you don't know anything about sexy rock armour or its manufacture. There aren't any rocks nearby, and even if there were you'd have no way of fusing them into anything.
That other girl - Jack, was it? - has, meanwhile, arrived nearby and is talking to Ariadne. She momentarily stops stroking you to listen. Jack seems to be saying something about you not being trustworthy, and that they need to find shelter for the night, or some similarly trifling matter. You passingly notice that she's holding that stone dagger you used to care about so much.
"Meow, meeeow meow meow meeow?" you ask. "Meow meow meooow meow." you clarify. Through her feline communication (passive skill), she receives your query, but rather than answer instead demands that you divulge your true motives.
There are two vaguely humanoid stone objects lying in the dirt on the edge of the clearing. You consider retrieving them, but they appear rather heavy, and you aren't sure how you'd carry them anyway.
Avoiding Jack's question, you look around at your surroundings. The pyre in the centre of the clearing is slowly dying down. The clearing, especially its north and east faces, are littered with corpses and pools of blood. The remaining native grunts seem to have all retired for the night into various ramshackle shelters to the northwest. Rupert is currently browsing the trees to the east. All is peaceful.
Nonetheless, you find yourself afflicted by a vague sense of dread.
Theodore: Ride on Jack's shoulder to be useful later!
Ariadne: put skill points into geokinesis!
Jack: lead our party back to wherever we got the loyal grunts.
>>519
Jack clearly still has trouble trusting you, but eventually you persuade her to let you curl up around the back of her neck. This arrangement proves somewhat uncomfortable for all involved, and with her every step you are jittered to and fro in a manner most frightful. She is a poor substitute indeed for Rupert.
You are now playing as Ariadne Aaronova.
You assign your two newly acquired skill points to geokinesis, unlocking the following skills:
You are now playing as Jack Aaronova.
Your new animate scarf is rather weighing upon your nerves, especially given its sharp claws and incessant fidgeting. The loyal - more or less, barring that one who turned on you on the riverside - grunts were, naturally, both members of your own tribe, from this very camp. You had recruited the two of them as meatshields while you scouted the area, looking for that mysterious undead girl you decided to help kill back at >>423,424. You tried searching for her along the path where you first saw her back at >>380, but there was no sign of her.
As you have already safely led your party back to your tribe's camp, from which you got the grunts, you decide it might be a good time to rest and recuperate. Indeed, you could really do with some sleep and, by the looks of her, so could your dear sister Ariadne. Just as you turn and head for the shelters, however, you hear a sharp intake of breath from behind you.
Turning around, you see Ariadne hunched over the ceremonial altar, running her hands over the inscriptions. On closer inspection, one of the large, central engravings on the upper face actually looks a lot like her, right down to the frilly dress. The other human figure sort of resembles you - though, then again, it could just as easily be your clone.
Ariadne says, haltingly, quietly at first, but with growing conviction, "I... I remember... Yes, I remember everything! Th-the plan! My plan - oh, what have I been doing‽ I have to - ah!"
She looks up suddenly. Following her gaze, you find that the each of the grunts who were recently killed in action are back on their feet, apparently indifferent to their various shattered skulls and gruesome puncture wounds. There is at least eight of them; more might be concealed from view by the trees. Their advance is slow, but relentless. A small, dense kernel of guilt forms in your stomach as you remember that this is your fault.
You happen to note that you have three unspent skill points left over from the battle.
Allocate skill points to aerokinesis. Ask Ariadne for advice.
Theodore: try to hypnotise the undead. If that fails, just meow uselessly.
Ariadne: make a sexy ass rock scythe out of our golems. Not too heavy for us to wield. Nice and sharp for cutting off zombie heads.
lift penis
>>521
Suspecting that ailuromancy has helped you about as much as it's going to, you change tack and instead see if this aerokinesis business might help. You have unlocked the following skills:
You entreat Ariadne for some advice in military tact, suggesting, perhaps, constructing a choke point, or trying to flank the enemy. She turns to you, an odd glint in her eye, and says "I'm not called Ar-- actually, never mind that. If I were you I'd just create a distraction and make a tactical retreat. Speaking of which, I'm afraid I've pressing business elsewhere with a certain girl who looks a lot like you. Adieu!" With a shrewd smile and a flutter of the hand, she begins to levitate and silently glides away over the trees and into the night sky.
Via your cat possession (passive skill), you are now playing as Theodore.
Unfortunately, you find that your temporary hypnosis (active skill) only works on conscious, sentient creatures. You meow mournfully right into Jack's ear. She does not appear to appreciate your contribution.
>>522
You are now playing as Ariadne Aaronova.
Your head is still spinning from your sudden influx of memories. You still remember how to levitate - how could someone forget something so fun! - but some of your more distant memories are a little fuzzy. You do, however, vividly remember your plan, and are quite singleminded in your desire to see its fruition.
Well, not quite singleminded enough to forget one other minor point of business on the way. You float elegantly back to the clearing, whisk by over Jack's head (you're glad you thought to wear so many frilly petticoats, otherwise those on the surface might see something immodest) and aim the little mechanical trinket Jack kindly gave you at the centre of the advancing horde. You pull the trigger and a web of lightning flashes from the tip, lancing through the ground and the grunt corpses. They collapse to the ground, spasming and twitching harmlessly.
Now safe from unwanted gentlemanly advances, you descend and reconvene your little Furies. It takes a while to find Alecto, as she'd ended up outside the clearing, but you manage without incident. Finally, you press the three together and transmute them into a lovely new stone farming implement. As it is approximately three kilograms in weight, this sets you back by 60 mana, leaving you 90 remaining.
There wasn't quite enough material to make a full length handle, so it's more like a sickle than a scythe, but its compactness is probably a virtue. Unfortunately the metamorphic rock comprising it cannot hold a very sharp edge - on the other hand, the banding is rather aesthetically pleasing. You test it out on a nearby grunt. To your disappointment, it takes three hacks to achieve full decapitation.
Come to think of it, this weapon reminds you of a certain other scythe you saw or heard about somewhere. Hmm, what was it called... something about donkeys... bad donkeys... and - that's right! Jacqueline dying horribly! What pleasant memories. Perhaps you could name this one as well, as a homage of sorts.
Jack and Theodore are staring at you warily from across the clearing. In the forest to the east, Rupert has stopped ruminating and is instead stamping around nervously, perhaps disturbed by the electrical discharge. Unless there's anything else pressing, you really ought to go see Conundrum-chan.
>>523
A fine, upstanding young lady like yourself wouldn't be seen doing anything like that. The penises can lift themselves, thank you very much.
Ride Rupert to Conundrum-chan!
ride through the jungle on a brontosaurus with no name
be certain that said brontosaurus is Brobdingnagian.
>>525
May as well travel in style, you reflect. Indeed, arriving on brontosaurusback should provide a good topic of light conversation, and perhaps allow you to avoid the thorny issue of the fact that you declared love for one another and kissed passionately last time you met. Of course, you weren't in your right mind then. It goes without saying that you don't really feel that way about her - how absurd! I mean, a girl loving another girl? That's not normal!
Shaking your head briskly, you mount Rupert and embark westwards, making sure to trample a few grunt corpses on the way for good measure. Jack and Theodore appear to have prudently taken your advice and already made themselves scarce. You march inexorably through the moonlit trees until arriving at the riverbank. Unfortunately, the Palriga Canal, though majestic, has blocked off that particular route to Conundrum-chan's previous residence in the underground cloning facility - not to mention, there's no way Rupert would fit down there.
Well, it'll take more than that to stop you. You will your pantagruelian steed onwards into the thick, dark waters. After some initial hesitation, he wades slowly into the river, just barely resisting the forceful currents and swirling eddies.
>>526
You wish you could, but the only brontosaurus available has already been nomenclated. In fact, you rather suspect the task to be impossible, as even an ostensibly nameless brontosaurus would implicitly be called the brontosaurus with no name. Indeed, the word brontosaurus is itself, in a sense, a name.
>>527
Though fairly average sized amongst Sauropoda, Rupert towers uncontested above all other fauna in the area. He is like an anachronism born of some primordial time ruled by gods and titans. You rub his scaly neck affectionately.
After what seems an eternity, you arrive at the opposite bank, and then at the small clearing with the odd white building where you landed with the jetpacks back at >>410. Sitting in front of the building you find that man - what did he call himself again? Aaron, that was it - sitting before a modest campfire. Jimmy is lying curled up in his lap, fast asleep.
"Ariadne! Thank goodness you're here!" he exclaims as soon as he sees you, "Something terrible has happened underground. Conundrum-chan is... well, you'd better see for yourself..." He trails off uncertainly. You're not sure you trust this man, after he shamelessly took advantage of your amnesia to masquerade as your father. He's probably one of these detestable lolicon types.