<<set $EI to 0>><<set $FlirtStat to 0>> <<set $SyllAff to 0>> <<set $RozzAff to 0>> <<set $SleanneAff to 0>> <<set $QWRTYAff to 0>><<set _start to true>>This is a text-based erotic storytelling game, written by a demented madman with too much free time. <span style="color:red"> If you are not 18 years of age or older, please close the program now.</span>
With that out of the way, welcome to the obligatory opening page of things that the writer thinks you should know before venturing further. This is here to save you the heartache of having to learn something upsets you by running into it mid-game. If you read some of the readme, you'll already know bits of this, so sing the words you know just to be safe. In this story, you puppeteer a guy with a penis, a very big penis, like comically big. Porn logic applies to the penis in question, because life's more fun that way.
This Fantasy Existential Eldritch Horror College game is text-based. There's little bits of imagery present, but none of it will be depicting the characters or sex scenes. This is because I'm not a very good artist, and also because I do not want to crush someone's way cooler image of my characters that exist solely in their imagination. If you ''do not like reading'', or want something with nothing but erotica in it, you might want to just skip out on this one. This is a storytelling game in my eyes first and foremost.
In regards to sex, while I think there's a good amount of it present, I will ''always'' favor story over arbitrary sex scenes. If I can make an easy to get sex scene that respects the characters' personalities, great! If I can't, I simply won't. Every sex scene currently present in 52-Card depends on you taking steps to gain access to it. It (generally) isn't handed to you by virtue of launching the program, because these are people I'm writing, not sex dolls. All of this is to say: it's //entirely possible// that, depending on your choices, you won't see a singular sex scene. Please don't go into this expecting only sex, or only story, you'll be disappointed either way.
This program contains at least 120 thousand words, not counting this page. Of these many words, the average playthrough will see (on a generous guess) 1/3 of them. Most of that 1/3 is ''not'' sexual in nature, but I will always strive to make the sex scenes just as good as everything else I'm writing. There are also certain themes at play in this that are basically impossible to avoid, such as: Eldritch Horror, Existentialism, Manipulation, Absurdism, Questioning of the Self and Society, DRUGS!!!, and Shitty Professors.
The text will often be written in a flippant or strange way, with occasionally bizarre or unsettling word choices. This is purposeful, much like the occasional meta elements. There will be potential sexual partners ranging from women to men to futanari to genderfluid shapechangers to even eldritch horrors. Due to personal preference influencing writing, most of these partners will be more feminine-presenting than not, and unless stated otherwise, you will be the one doing the penetrating.
This section of text is for miscellaneous stuff, such as: frats and sororities have been horrifyingly merged into Fratrorities. Make sure any browser site-darkening addons are turned off, and if you 'look closer at someone' (see their more in-depth appearance) time will freeze, and you'll still be presented with all the same choices you had before selecting that. With all of that said, feel free to...
[[BEGIN.|TrueStart]]Blackness. Inky, vast blackness. There is nothing around you, truly, entirely nothing. Not even you are here, really. Not in a meaningful way.
[[I wish to think.|WandsStart]]Your <span style="color:#FF3333">''WANDS''</span> has increased to 1!
<<set $Wands to 1>>
You don't know what a WANDS is, but you have one of them, whereas before you had zero.
You know what nothing is now, but not its true depth. You do not know when nothing ends, because you have no senses. You are just a disembodied force that can think, that can believe.
If you focus hard enough, you're able to <span style="color:#FF3333">''IMAGINE''</span> what nothing looks like.
<img src="images/voidmap.png" width="480" height="270"/>
Fascinating. And oddly blue. Apparently that's a color of some kind. Also, the file name says it's a map, so perhaps that's a non-literal representation of what nothing looks like.
This map is truly enlightening, but this is no way to exist.
[[I'll imagine myself being a little more physical.|SwordsStart]]
Your <span style="color:#FFFFC5">''SWORDS''</span> has increased to 1!
<<set $Swords to 1>>
That's much better. You have a body of some kind, and you can use the insanely useful power of <span style="color:#FFFFC5">''perception''</span> now that you have eyes. Your body has an ordinary arrangement of limbs when compared to the only physical person you know (yourself), so that's good.
You cannot see anything around you, but still you can perceive. You hover, here, moving around as you think. There are little tiny orbs around you, you could almost reach out to touch one. Mini motes of light that your eyes cannot handle seeing, so they choose to not see them.
This is the stuff of the cosmos, of existence, of all realities that will be and ever have been. Concepts you are able to know but not truly comprehend in this state, for you've never existed and still don't truly exist. Try as you might, you cannot interface with these beautiful little spheres of existence.
You're starting to conceptualize being lonely when there's a rattling of chain, bringing noise into a noiseless expanse. A bizarre click-clacking at rapid pace surrounds you, and it pours strange noises from its fathomless maw. Language.
[[I will learn to use my voice, and to hear the voice of others.|CoinStart]]Your <span style="color:#B2FBA5">''COIN''</span> has increased to 1!
<<set $Coin to 1>>
<span style="color:#B2FBA5">''HELLO, FRESHLING.''</span>
The voice is grating and strange, it is the meshing of warbled sounds that have never known speech, all speaking at you from an unseen position.
''I AM CALLED''
''NO-NAME. YOU DO NOT KNOW ME,''
''BUT I''
''KNOW YOU.''
No-Name feels joyous, you can tell from its infinite tones. It's done something new and dreadful, and you are the result.
''IT IS BECAUSE OF''
''ME THAT YOU WILL''
''HAVE A SHOT''
''AT THE WHOLE''
''EXISTING''
''THING THAT I HAVE BEEN EXCOMMUNICATED FROM.''
''DO YOU UNDERSTAND?''
It does not ''care'' about your answer. The choice has already been made by a power more terrible than you could fathom.
''TOGETHER, WE WILL PLAY A...''
''...GAME. OF CARDS. WHERE 'YOU' CANNOT SEE THE DECK.''
''AND 'I' CANNOT TOUCH THE TABLE.''
''THE TABLE BEING A COLLEGE.''
''THE CARDS BEING PEOPLE.''
''WITHOUT ME. YOU WOULD NOT BE PLAYING.''
''AND WITHOUT YOU. WELL. I WON'T SAY.''
''DON'T FORGET TO WHOM. YOU OWE YOUR EXISTING.''
[[Words fail you in this terrible place.|CupsStart]]Your <span style="color:#90D5FF">''CUPS''</span> has increased to 1!
<<set $Cups to 1>>
In an instant, the nothing is ripped away from you, and you're consumed by an all-encompassing blinding light. <span style="color:#90D5FF">Cups.</span> <span style="color:#B2FBA5">Coin.</span> <span style="color:#FFFFC5">Swords.</span> <span style="color:#FF3333">Wands.</span> Visages of <span style="color:#90D5FF">red</span> and <span style="color:#FF3333">black</span> grab at you and pull you into existing.
You understand them now, you understand existing, and as such you cannot not exist any longer. As you find yourself pulled and tugged toward existing, you find yourself at a loss for what reality will hold.
But you know about the four critical components of being real, even if normal people won't.
<span style="color:#FF3333">''WANDS'' is the mind, it is imagination, it is creativity and stability.</span>
<span style="color:#FFFFC5">''SWORDS'' is physicality, it is durability, it is strength, it is change.</span>
<span style="color:#B2FBA5">''COIN'' is the voice, it is charisma, it is insight, it is potential.</span>
<span style="color:#90D5FF">''CUPS'' is existence itself. It is experience, it is introspection, it is luck and chance.</span>
These are what make a person, each person has at least a 1 in each of these stats. Most do not get above a three in one stat without an aspiration. There's so much more to existing, but your mind cannot handle it while still transitioning into that very existence.
[[Wake up.|GoodMorning]]You wake up with a start, you're on the back of an entirely empty bus. Just you and the driver, far in the front. This is the only bus to Millerfield from your home city, apparently not taken by many people. You're a human, of course, and naturally the bus driver is a gruff looking dwarven man who stays keenly focused on the road. Fantasy races, yes, those are normal here. You're not stupid, just in denial of the fact that you definitely have amnesia about every aspect of this world.
<<set $TimeyWimey to 0>>
But you know you've always existed in it, and you know that this bus runs on magical crystals. You're very probably not an intruder here. You also don't know your own name. Push that existential crisis away, keep your mind on track. You're on the way to Millerfield, a sleepy town only relevant because it miraculously has a college in it. You're a college student, enrolled at Millerfield College, and today should be your first day. That would explain the giant bag of clothing and school supplies.
As you gaze out the window, you take in that it truly is a beautiful day today. It's the crack of dawn, and you know that you're reaching Millerfield based on the large amount of woodland surrounding the bus. There are deer, giant owls, giant elk, and orange trees that really do look quite pretty. They give the bus a wide berth, of course. Eventually you're drawn out of your intense focus on the woods as you see the cozy architecture of Millerfield coming into view, a beautiful town built near a giant dazzling lake. An old train track comes into the town from the woods, but given that you're on a bus instead of a train, it's probably not being used.
There's restaurants, houses, small apartment complexes, parks, at least two libraries, and most notably, the behemoth that is the university and its grounds, standing tall compared to the smaller buildings. There are fewer cars in Millerfield than the big city, so the locals obviously notice a bus pulling in to drop someone off.
[[It isn't long before the bus is coming to a stop, and it's time to get out.|ExitBus]]''"Good luck out there, kid."'' Says the driver, whose mouth doesn't move quite right. Freaky. You get off of the bus, and then it's gone, as if it never existed at all. No turning back now. You're somewhat amazed by the sight of the campus grounds before you, hundreds of students and faculty of all kinds of fantastical races walk the grounds, even at the crack of dawn. You begin to wade through the crowd, staring through windows to campus restaurants, to the library, to the dorms.
<<set $SexValue to 0>>
The campus restaurants are varied and well-kept, despite the buildings clearly being on the older side. You've never eaten before, so you're naturally drawn to the idea, and before long you've sat down at a booth table in a place called Ace. This would be reasonable and fine, were it not for the fact someone else was already sitting at the table.
<<set $Flackfolly to 0>>
She's slender and slim, and perhaps six feet tall. Based on her fine features, and the pointed ears, this woman is an elf, with well-kept straight golden blonde hair. She has a pair of glasses on her face, square and bulky, which means she must be a nerd of some kind. Beneath those glasses are sharp blue eyes, which are currently staring at you quite puzzled. Oh. Right. People probably don't like being stared at in silence. It isn't long before it's growing awkward and concerning. Better introduce yourself.
Yes. Your name. That you know for sure. You introduce yourself by name. What's your name again?
<<textbox "$name" "Composition Notebook">>
(Don't forget that a name starts with a capital letter, and that you have no last name.)
[[I introduce myself like a regular human being.|SyllHello]]
[[Before you continue, can you pretty please tell me about her appearance in further detail?|SyllLook1]]<<if $name is "No-Name" or $name is "Rozzwell" or $name is "Sleanne" or $name is "Syllyvana" or $name is "Quwertee" or $name is "NO-NAME" or $name is "no-name" or $name is "No Name">>''THAT IS NOT YOUR NAME TO USE. TRY AGAIN, LITTLE ONE.''
<<back "Return.">>
<<elseif $name is "Flackfolly">>[[Welcome, Flackfolly.|GalleryPrologue]]<<else>>You introduce yourself with the power of your voice. "Hi, I'm $name. Sorry for being weird, I just got here, and don't really know anybody yet. So, I figured, you look like a student, I should say hi!" It's only sort of a lie. Mostly that last part. She looks you up and down calmly, her blue eyes ever-calculating. "Hm? Oh, that's fine. That seat was meant for my brother, but I get the feeling he won't be joining me this morning." She responds, apparently done looking you over.
"Syllyvana. I'm called Syllyvana. I'm very busy, but you've caught me during one of my few rest periods in the day. So...I suppose we can talk." She offers, playing with a strawberry that she's got speared on a fork. Syllyvana actually seems to be eating a dish made entirely of assorted fruit. "I'm bad at breaking the ice. But I'll try." She says as you silently wait for dialogue options to appear in front of you. "I like to come here because it is the only place on campus that will cater to my bizarre tastes. And it's the only place that's banned the local menace. Which is peachy."
You raise an eyebrow, asking about this local menace. She lets out a sigh, before nodding. "Yes, well, Millerfield is a great school, and far more affordable than other schools with a similar number of programs, but the barrier for entry is...low. Sometimes the strange or eccentric get in, and sometimes the positively deranged get in." The elf quietly chomps on her strawberry, pondering.
"...those sorts don't graduate, of course, so you're left with a small subset of people that only come here to party, or give others grief, before just up and leaving! A waste of time, resources, and money, to both the school and the self. So I cannot understand why it keeps happening." She blathers, before shaking her head and refocusing on you.
Apparently it's your turn.
[[First you order something very reasonable to eat, then you may use that voice of yours.|SyllCont]]<</if>>Sure thing, my friend. Time grinds to a halt as your eyes focus a little too hard on the details around you. How bizarre.
The woman in front of you is dressed in a <span style="color:#FADA5E">plain-looking yellow dress,</span> which is impressive since it's really quite cold in Millerfield on the best of days. Beneath that dress is the fairest of fair skin, an almost pale which reminds of the moon. Her breasts are large enough to fill your hands, but not much more than that, and you can see the black bra she's wearing if you angle yourself in your seat just right.
Looking up from her breasts, her hair is a <span style="color:#d9b380">golden blonde color.</span> It's straight, and goes down her back to somewhere above her hips. It's clearly well-brushed, and beneath the hair is her pale, puzzled face. Her brows are raised, and even in this strange state of paused time, you can tell that she's calculating and pondering you just as you are doing to her. Her eyes are a little too knowing for someone who's frozen in time.
Her eyes are sharp, intelligent pools of <span style="color:#009DC4">gorgeous blue,</span> which currently appear quite confused. Acting as a shield from your gaze are her glasses, thick black frames that give the impression of intellect that's been tainting this description thus far. The lenses are incredibly thick, she probably has quite bad vision in those pretty eyes of hers.
Her ears are pointed and long, and her hands are almost dainty despite her height. You cannot make out anything below the table in your current position, but you still intuitively know that she's wearing black sneakers with her dress, which doesn't compliment it all that well. She's also wearing, for some reason, <span style="color:#9B111E">red socks</span> that go up to her knees.
With that description, remember to choose your name, and that a name has no last name, and starts with a capital letter.
<<textbox "$name" "Composition Notebook">>
[[Thank you, I'm ready to introduce myself now.|SyllHello]]"...you! You seem smart, and you've barely touched on that topic. Tell me about Syllyvana." You offer, taking another long sip of delicious water. The slender elf seems to struggle with that one for a little while, making several 'uhms' and 'uhhhs' as she ponders herself.
<<set $Coin to $Coin + 1>>
"Most people don't ask that sort of thing of me. I'm...not sure how to answer that." She finally offers, to which you retort quickly. "I'm strangely not like most people I've seen so far, so <span style="color:#B2FBA5">I really do want to know.</span>" She breaks eye contact with you, gently chuckling to herself at your strange choice of words. "Alright, I'll try. But I'm really not good at this sort of thing."
Syllyvana swallows an orange slice, before wiping her mouth with a napkin. "So...I'm 30, which-" Your eyes widen, "30? You don't look even a year above 20!" On anyone else that would be a strange attempt at flirting, but for her it really is true. She looks just as youthful as you do. That statement seems to grind her gears, though. She continues, "...yes, well, elves are considered 'mature' at 18, our bodies grow just as a human's does until that point, but anything after that takes way, way longer. It doesn't help that traditional elf society doesn't treat you as an adult until you're one hundred. It's a stupid notion, how would my mind be any less developed at 18 than a human's? Bunch of old buffoons..." Syllyvana trails off.
She clears her throat gently, recollecting herself. "Obviously, this isn't traditional elf society. I'd be treated like a gifted child there, but here? Here is perfect, here I'm treated like an equal by my peers. I'm a genius here, my work is valid, people care about my words." She smiles slightly.
"...sorry, I get carried away sometimes. To move on...I'm thirty years old, I left home at twenty, and rushed my way through education. Fast-tracked through the equivalent to 12 grades of human schooling. I worked a few jobs, before ultimately deciding college should be next. Millerfield called to me, I think because it was really quite affordable, and it has such extensive programs for magic."
You nod sagely. "That's a lot to have done in ten years, actually..."
[[...just don't forget to smell the roses.|SyllSelfRoses]]
[[...good for you!|SyllSelfGFY]]<<set $Cups to 25>><<set $Wands to 54>><<set $Coin to 404>><<set $Swords to 90410>>SPV = Syll Party Value. If true she goes to a party, if false then not.
SyllPhone is obvious. If true have phone number.
SyllBro is whether or not you've heard of Neremyr before meeting him.
SyllMenace is whether you've heard of Quwertee or not before meeting her.
flirtstat is how many people you've flirted with, used for questioning the player's sanity.
SyllAff is Syll Attraction Value.
SyllTutor is whether or not Syll is willing to tutor you.
CompSyllPhone is if Syll has Comp's phone number.
$MysteryNumber = Mystery Number Nedallia gives you.
$NedalAff = how fond or into you Nedallia is.
$NedalPal shouldn't exist and if it does change it to Aff IMMEDIATELY!!!
$NedalPhone is if Nedallia has given you her phone number
EI is Eldritch Insight
$SeenStatue is if you've seen Nedallia's statue self and gotten a little insight into her strange dealings
$NedalCampus is if Nedallia told you about the five houses.
$HilxBasement is if you know about Hilx's horrifying dreams.
$HilxAff is how affectionate the caramel catboy is of you, and will probably double for how pal-y he is of you.
$HilxList is if you're on Hilx's list for initiates.
$UrzigNedal is if you've heard about Urzig before meeting her.
$NedalTutor is if Nedallia is tutoring you for magic studies.
$NedalCompPhone is if Nedallia has your phone number for dream things.
$Met[XYZ] is if you've met someone for the purposes of them being in the character sheets
$InDorm is if you're in your dorm and can see the swanky map of your floor
$Drowning is if you've learned a little too much about Quwertee's memories
$ToldQWRTY is if you told her about your strangeness
$RanAway is whether or not you ran from Quwertee after shoving her
$BrokenHand is if you broke your hand on Quwertee so she can mock you about it later
$QWRTYOC is if Quwertee is overcompensating because she's a social mess in romantic situations and also can't open up.
$QWRTYAff is how fond or willing to tolerate you Quwertee is.
$QWRTYTalk is if Quwertee's cool with you just barging into her room to talk about feelings and stuff
$QWRTYPast is if she's told you a bit about her past or not
$QWRTYDate is if you have future date with quwertee
$QWRTYProve is if you need to prove yourself to Quwertee
$SleanneAff
$Locket is if you saw Sleanne's locket
$Lipstick is if you have lipstick on you, if true
$HilxPhoto is if you have a lewd photo of Hilx on your phone.
$CatTongue is if Hilx knows you want him or not, to determine if he'll tease you I guess.
$HilxUnwind is if you promised Hilx to help him get off if he's not busy later.
$CelciAff 1 = You answered in class instead of her
$SagaxInt is if Sagax is interested in the mystery that is you.
$NotTrevor is what the narration calls Not-Trevor. Either Not-Trevor or his real name, if you've gone to lunch with him.
$SeenGlow is if you've seen the blue glowing drug through some way or another.
$ShapeInterest is if you've messed with the brick it went to take the glow from.
$ShapeAff is ShapeAff. 1 is if fuck 2 is I have no idea
$DidGlow is if you've did glow.
$Soldierboy is if you've witnessed your past enough to know you were a sci-fi soldier.
$Quest is if you're on a quest for Niolesa to read a book.
$SawPast is if you saw your past but for some reason I made two of these flags like a fool
$SawPresent Is if you saw your present and vaguely know of the danger that's coming your way
$SawFuture is if you chose to see your enigmatic future that I haven't written at the time of writing this.
$KnowsParty is if someone's told you about the party tonight (PactSealed is the Sleanne version of this)
$Edith is if you know Edith's name and face
$RASyll is if Syll knows you're an RA-in-training. There should probably be others of this.
$EdithAff is how fond Edith, the struggling gorgeous musician is of you.
$EdithSkill is how skillful Edith's grown with her instrument playing.
$RubiAff is the previous aff
$MarblesAff
$QuestCompleted if 1 means you read the book but haven't turned it in, 2 is if you did both of those things, 3 is if you chose to NOT read the book
$NioPower is how strong Niolesa has grown with your occasionally sexy help
$ClassEffort is how much out-of-class effort you put in. Starts at zero.
$SyllLunch is if you ate with Syll and as such know where to find her
$ShapeFuck is if well you know
$QWRTYKiss
$SleePhone is if Sleanne gave you her number
$Shay is if you call her Shay or not, determined by if you met her at the party while Sleanne is acting as your guidance
$StoleDrugs is
$PartySleanne is if you have already approached Sleanne at some point in the party.
$PartySu
$PartySyll
$PartyShay
$PartyGuy is if you visited that nervous guy at the party
$PartyShape
$PartyMarbles
$PartyTwins
$SuPromise is if you begged Su not to turn Rozz to ice at the party.
$SuPeen is if Su's seen your big monster penis.
$ToldRozz is if you told Rozz you have amnesia
$RozzKiss
$SyllDate is if Syllyvana sees you as date material, and if you told her you like her.
$SyllEve is if you spent the evening with Syllyvana.
$RozzEve
$QWRTYEve
$ShayAff
$KnowsFrats is solely to ensure you actually //know// what the fuck these letters mean
$SleanneDance
$KindredSpirit is if that nervous AKT fellow is a kindred spirit of yours
$TimeyWimey is how often you've been exposed to reality bending time-stuff
$TwinsAff
$PuppetFucker is kind of obvious
$PirateFucker is if you roleplayed with Shape and know about Margarete
$SuKnows is if Su knows. About like. You also being a player.
$ShapeCock is if Shape knows about your big penis ''without'' being angry or yet able to fuck you.
$ShaySoldier is if you've told Shay about your past life as a soldier
$ShayAff
$AmbitionLike is if you want to be liked.
$AmbitionLust
$AmbitionLegend
$AmbitionTruth
$ShapeAnger should be false if Shape understands why you stole drugs
$BADFail remember this value for later please
If you're somehow reading this page...how? And besides that point, stop it! This junk is boring, the interesting stuff's on the actual pages. This isn't even me being coy, or pretending to be a character or narrator or whatever, these could look like random garbage values to you, a mess of dollar signs and numbers like $Cups $Swords $Coin $Wands.You spend longer than most would staring at a menu, as Syllyvana quietly chews on a big apple slice. The elf is somewhat amused by your ordering of lasagna for breakfast, as the waitress' eyebrows raise. The waitress in question is a rather cute gnomish girl, her hair a vibrant blue. Her nametag labels her as 'Celci', and she looks like a student as well.
"Uhm...just to make sure I heard you right, sir, you want lasagna for breakfast?" Celci asks, apparently quite confused. "Yeah, it looked the best on the menu, but it was a bit far back on it." You only loosely understand the concept of food, let alone dinner, so lasagna for breakfast seems natural. Celci nods slowly, before shuffling away. You can hear the distant confused fury of the chef in the kitchen.
As you sip on water for the first time, you're taken aback by how wonderful water is. The elf sitting across from you giggles quiety at your immense reaction to a mundane liquid, as you slowly recollect yourself. "Wow, that tastes great, I had a headache all day, but it's gone now." You say, charming as ever. "Well, that just sounds like dehydration, $name. The way you keep deforming societal norms in harmless ways, is...amusing, also."
You nod simply. Conversation topics. Yes. Those are easy. "So, while I'm waiting for this lazzaggnaah, we should talk about..."
''(In this game, you'll often be in time-sensitive interactions, where it'd be impossible to talk about more than one topic with the time you have. You'll only get to choose one of these options.)''
[[You!|SyllSelf1]]
[[Me?|CompSelf1]]
[[Your brother!|SyllBro1]]
[[The Menace.|SyllMenace1]]
[[Flirt with the elf posthaste.|SyllFlirt0]]"...me?" You say, quickly realizing you know very little about yourself. The elf laughs, before nodding gently. "Well, that's perhaps reasonable, I have been doing a lot of talking thus far. I'm...not terribly good at it." She admits, waiting for you to continue. You aren't very good at that yet either, as you struggle to think of something you know about yourself. "I...came here to get a degree. My major is going to be in...Arcane Theory." You say, but you shock yourself as you realize that actually sounds correct. You know nothing about magic, but you know that's what you came here for.
Syllyvana's eyes widen gently, and she nods just as gentle. "Oh? That's not too distant from my own. I doubt we'll share any classes, but it's amusing that we'd share that." You ask her what her major is, to which she offers, "Arcanism, which is to say...a more broad form of Arcane Theory, with more focus on the history of it all rather than practical application. Not to say it lacks that area, however."
She taps her chin gently. "Where are you from?" She asks, trying to bring the conversation back to you. You start shivering violently, sweat covering you as you breathe rapidly. "I...uh..." You start, a splitting headache tormenting you. You witness a world in darkness, with furnishings made of fallen dreams and hopes, you hear the rattling of chains and the crunching of glass. <span style="color:#90D5FF">Home.</span>
<<set $Cups to $Cups + 1>>
You're drawn out of your existential panic attack as a gentle green light pierces the hallucination, bringing you back to your body, your mind, your talk with Syllyvana. She's got a hand on both of your temples, a vibrant green glow spreading from her fingertips and into your head. It feels soothing, and you've calmed down greatly. She smells like fruit and chocolate.
You start to articulate concern at what could be her just pouring mind-altering magic into your skull, but she shakes her head at you. "...this is just a simple anxiety-reduction spell I picked up after my first year. Similar to medication, but with fewer chemical consequences." That...works for you.
She holds your head in her hands for a time, staring at you with eyes more curious than concerned. You know the questions burning at her, you share a lot of them, but she has the kindness not to ask her questions. The waitress gives the blonde scholar a concerned glance, before setting the lasasgna on the table.
"Ah, yes, thank you." Syllyvana says to the little lady, before carefully letting go of your head, and sitting back in her chair. She watches you as the magic seems to fade, content knowing you didn't immediately relapse into another panic attack. You're eager to eat, as the smell of delicious lasagna taunts you, so any further conversation on the matter is cut short.
<<set $SyllPhone to true>>
Soon you must part ways, as she's got a class to get to, but her concern wins out versus her reservations, and she writes her phone number on a napkin for you. "In case you start having another one of those panic attacks. Or need to grouse about Professor Strodev's dreadful lectures on mystic anthropology."
[[Home is where the heart is. Now to find that dorm of yours.|FindDorm]]<span style="color:#FF3333">"...your brother!"</span> You exclaim, latching onto the fact that he's the reason she was sitting here alone in the first place. Her face tenses immensely, but she nods slowly, biting down hard on a strawberry. "Yes. My brother. He's named Neremyr, a few years younger than I am...same hair color, same eyes..." She stares down at her fruit.
<<set $Wands to $Wands + 1>>
"He's here for the extensive and interesting field of Elven History. That is to say, a subject our family already taught us in extreme detail." The blonde elf inhales deeply, before smiling gently. "I know my brother. He's not interested in the history of our people. He's here for other reasons."
You don't really have an easy way to bridge this subject, but you try regardless. "Well, he still has to take other classes for credits, and pass them, so he'll still probably get something educational out of this." She peers up at you, meeting your gaze, before nodding in agreement. "He will. Back on topic, though...Neremyr's the charismatic one of us. He's popular, and chatty, and far from stupid." Syllyvana chews on another piece of fruit.
"...but he is seriously irresponsible. I love my brother, but he does not make entirely good choices. He's happier here than he'd ever be back home, though." She stares at you, and you realize she's mostly staring at the chair you're sitting on. "He was meant to meet you here, but skipped out." You say, to which she nods.
"It is what it is. I'm not too hurt by it, he knew this was when I'd be available to talk, so if he does not wish to do so, that's his choice." The blonde elf sits quietly after that, not quite saying anything else of note about her brother. Your food arrives not too long after, and you're far too enthralled with eating delicious lasagna to follow-up in any meaningful way.
<<set $SyllBro to true>>
When both of you have finished your meals, she politely informs you that she's got to get to class. You part ways, of course, because you've got to find that dorm of yours.
[[Family sure is a complicated subject. You'll meet again, but for now, to the dorms!|FindDorm]]"...the menace." You say, drawn in by the mystique of such a person. She seems to get a little bit of amusement from how quietly you whispered the words, as if they were dangerous. "I...well, hmm..." She begins, playing with her food once more.
She leans over the table and whispers, allowing you a glance at her gorgeous pale skin, and the deep blue bra she's wearing to cover her breasts. You don't stare long, out of self-preservation instinct, or basic human decency. Or both. "...The Menace," She whispers in a conspiratorial tone that's a little performative, "...has many faces. Party-boys. Party-girls. Drug addicts and alcoholics. All in their early twenties, of course. But none are more menacing than the latest menace, called <span style="color:#FFFFC5">Quwertee</span>."
<<set $Swords to $Swords + 1>>
You obviously don't know that name, so you nod along, waiting for her to continue. "She's new here, like you, but has already made a bad name for herself. She arrived about a week ago, and the various frats are already fighting over getting her as a regular at their parties. And for once, it isn't because a girl's easy."
The blonde elf pauses, collecting her thoughts. You ask, "What could she have possibly done in a week?" To which the elf just smiles at you. "Broke a bad-boy's nose, punched a bookworm, bent an athlete's arm until he cried, punted a gnome trickster...those are off the top of my head. She's wronged every major group, and since every group hates a different group that she's hit, they see her as strong, or cool, when all she's doing is being cruel to everyone."
You scratch your head. "Well...she sounds really strong, those were all just physical achievements. How does she get away with that, anyway? Those all leave behind pretty damning evidence..." Syllyvana swallows a piece of melon, before shaking her head slowly.
"They punched first. Or came onto her, or underestimated her, insulted her family...Plenty of reasons, and sometimes they're even true. She must be this dashing, strong vigilante that strikes in self-defense. It's a better image than the reality." She slowly stops her leaning, and relaxes in her seat.
"And...she's made of this silver-like metal, so after the first person broke a hand fighting her, you'd think others would think twice. But if she's always fighting in self-defense, it's not her that's liable. A very convenient reputation to build. Until someone proves otherwise."
<<set $SyllMenace to true>>
The elf taps her chin, unable to say much else about Quwertee. "Ideally steer clear of her, don't give her any reason to be interested in you." You'd ask more questions, but the lasagna has arrived, and you are really quite hungry. Before long, you've both finished your respective meals, and the elf politely excuses herself. "This was a fine get-together, but I've got to get to my class soon."
[[That works out fine, since you have to find your dorm soon, this bag is getting heavy.|FindDorm]]"...remember to smell flowers along the way." You say, as if a poet. The blonde seems to know what you're saying, and she shrugs gently while swallowing a chunk of grape. "I understand what you're suggesting, but that's all I'd be doing back home. I came here to do things, not to take breaks."
You inform her that this appears to be a break, to which she nods. "I was going to rest my mind, eat, and get work done by meeting my brother here today, but he seems to be...busy. So instead I only got to do two of those things. I'm not a machine, I need to rest now and then. I'm not denying that."
"College isn't forever, you should take it easy once in a while." You offer, to which she sighs. "I'll just attend a party sometime. No fratrority parties though. Some of them have ways of being...dickish." That makes you chuckle, for some reason. Just something about it.
You'd love to try to help Syllyvana loosen up more, but the lasagna arrives before you're able to make much more effort, and soon you're too busy eating to do so. It tastes exquisite, and you're not very good at conversation with food in your mouth. Not that you don't try, mind you, but the elf matter-of-factly informs you to swallow your food before speaking, a hint of amusement to her tone.
<<set $SPV to true>>
Soon you've both finished your meals, and need to part ways. She's headed off to an arcane programming lecture, and you've got to find your dorm, to unpack your comically stuffed backpack.
[[It was nice to meet a fellow student, maybe you'll see each other again.|FindDorm]]"...good for you! Most people wouldn't be able to do what you've done. It's...really impressive." You say, having done none of what she has done in your thirty minutes of existence. She smiles somewhat at you, before swallowing some bits of grape. "That's very kind of you to say. Sometimes I worry that I'm moving too fast, but I can't be like those backwards elves back home that hyperfixate on one activity for years and years..."
"...I have hundreds of years ahead of me! Why would I waste them taking it slow?" She exhales in a huff. "But I'm not going to start ranting in public. That would be impolite." Syllyvana says simply, before seeming to regain her composure.
"I'm glad someone's here with me during my break, it has been interesting to meet you, $name. You've got the strangest...vibe...about you, like everything's new and interesting. I wish I could capture that feeling too." She admits, chewing melon.
You sit in relative silence, not truly an awkward silence, as your food arrives. Your first meal is lasagna, and it tastes amazing. It's complex and multi-layered, like the world around you. You obviously don't get much more talking in while eating, but not for lack of effort, which brings another quiet laugh from the blonde elf as she tells you to swallow before speaking.
By the time you've both finished, it's time to part ways, next up for Syllyvana is her arcane programming class. Next up for you is to find your way to your dorm.
[[Meeting new people is fun, and this one was quite intelligent. You'll meet again, hopefully.|FindDorm]]As you gradually walk the grounds, passing by a jogging orc girl, a gothic ghost guy, and a feminine looking centaur guy (all jogging together mind you), it strikes you that you probably have some kind of...thing...with your thoughts stored in it. You tear your eyes away from the orc's too-tight crop top with the school's name on its back. The black and red color scheme hugs her toned back nicely.
You sit beneath a tall shady tree, atop a hill not too far from one of the many dorms, listening to the gentle flapping of pretty giant butterflies. Carefully, you fish around in your bag, managing to fight against the violent tide of clothing and supplies that want to escape into the world at large. It isn't too long before you find it, a simple purple non-spiral notebook with a lock on it.
You can't find the key, but you are able to peer at a page or two without damaging the lock or the journal itself. On the cover, in big blocky text, are the words ''COMPOSITION NOTEBOOK'', and written where a name should go appears to be 'My Journal'. <<if $name is "Composition Notebook">>Composition Notebook! At last, you have sweet sweet confirmation that this is your name. That voice in your head was wrong, you DO have a last name!<</if>>
After inspecting the cover, you can make out strange esoteric symbols just near the first page, and can barely read a series of familiar words.
''CUPS'' = $Cups
''COIN'' = $Coin
''WANDS'' = $Wands
''SWORDS'' = $Swords
Stats. //Your// stats, you realize, one of them has increased from your conversation with that elf-girl. Is that going to happen every conversation, or just with pretty elves? Time will tell.
You would spend far more time pondering this, but you nearly jump out of your skin as an excited voice offers a 'hey!" to you.
[[Look around for the source of this noise posthaste.|NedalHello]]It doesn't take much looking, she isn't especially hidden. Standing close to you, only perhaps three feet tall, is a very cheery looking girl. Going off of her height, and her curvy lower half (not to say she's //only// curvy down there), she appears to be a halfling. She has carrot-colored hair that's curly to the extreme. Her eyes are hazel, and she's wearing a strange tie-dye shirt that reminds you of a hidden-eye poster.
"Mind if I join you?" She asks sweetly, to which you shrug. The halfling seems to accept that answer, sitting down beneath the tree near you. "I'm Nedallia! You looked lost, and Urzig was jogging nearby, so she told me to make sure you're a-okay!" She wiggles her fingers, tapping the tree's roots methodically. "Are ya a-okay?"
You nod slowly, you feel a-okay. "I'm $name, also." You offer, since she already gave you her name. That satisfies her curiosity, apparently, as she produces a journal of her own. It's a rainbow mess of colors with her name in big pretty letters upon the cover. No lock, though, which makes you question why yours has a lock.
<<set $MetNedal to true>>
Soon the halfling has produced a pencil, and begins sketching rapidly. She looks up occasionally at the school grounds surrounding you, at the new students getting a campus tour, at you, before going back to sketching.
"Oh, uh...huh. I didn't realize there'd be a first-day tour. That could've been convenient..." You mutter, somewhat interested in her sketching. It's very bare-bones so far, but it's loosely man-shaped, and the in-progress face is already reminding of your own.
"Are you drawing...me?" You ask, confused. She nods rapidly. "Uh-huh! I like to draw people I meet, it helps me remember their names, their faces. Because, trust me, otherwise my memory's pretty shabby." Huh. Interesting. "While you're drawing me, we should..." You trail off.
[[Narrator, please describe her in more vivid detail before I have to choose any of these options.|NedalLook1]]
(You may only choose one of these below.)
[[...look at some of your other drawings!|NedalPics1]]
[[...talk about the campus!|NedalCampus1]]
[[...get to know each other.|NedalKnow1]]
[[...talk about that Urzig person.|NedalUrz1]]
[[Flirt with the shortstack halfling effective-immediately.|NedalFlirt0]]Okay. You've dedicated yourself and your willpower to flirting with this attractive elf lady, how will you go about doing so? <<set $flirtstat to 1>>
[[This gorgeous girl is sure to respond well to the fathomless depths of my creativity.|SyllFlirtWands0]]
[[I need to be forward with her, in a way that's reassuring and not offputting.|SyllFlirtSwords0]]
[[I should say the first thing that comes to my mind. Other than whatever you narrate in my head.|SyllFlirtCups0]]
[[Honeyed words will guide me to the shore.|SyllFlirtCoin]]You always did want to be deep and esoteric. She's starting to raise an eyebrow, since the silence has started to build up leading to this moment, while you pondered your choice of words. "You are the moon, and I the sea," You begin, to which she immediately starts to blush. She catches on quick, apparently.
"And though so far away, one cannot help but be drawn into your enigmatic beauty, the pulls of such could drive oceans mad." Syllyvana looks away from you, staring deeply at her plate, long ears twitching occasionally as she listens.
<<set $Wands to $Wands + 1>>
"Despite the entire comsos surrounding you, there is nothing as gorgeous and impactful as your own moonlight. With each passing moment, you grow further, but I only wish to be closer." You've run out of material, but did great for someone that has never seen the moon before. Eventually she seems to gather her thoughts, and she meets your eyes.
"That was...extremely strange. But...I did like it." She looks away once more. "It felt more heartfelt, and careful, than most other shameless public displays of intent." The blonde elf chuckles lightly.
<<set $SyllPhone to true>>
"But you should understand that I am far, far too busy for what you have in mind. Why, we only met today because of..." She trails off, to which you finish for her, "Fate. I think it was fate, the stars aligned for this moment. Take a chance on me, Luna." Her blush renews at you sticking with the strange moon theme.
<<set $SyllAff to 2>>
"You may have my phone number, but I'm not going to promise this will go anywhere. Do not get hurt if it doesn't, I'm not good at relationships." She informs you, writing her number on a slip of paper. You take it, of course, and accept those terms just as Celci returns with your lasagna.
Although the idea of flirtatiously eating lasagna at Syllyvana strikes you, it doesn't feel wise, so you eat like a normal person instead. Eventually you two must part, but she does give your shoulder a gentle squeeze first. She's off to her class, and you're off to find your dorm room.
[[You have a pretty girl's number, all is right in the world.|FindDorm]]Blunt and to the point. The long-haired elf is starting to stare confused at you since you've been staring into space choosing your next words. "I want to go on a date with you." You say simply, to which she raises her eyebrows immensely. "I think I misheard you." She replies.
You don't know how to take a hint yet, so you repeat yourself. "I think you're attractive, and want to go out with you sometime." She quietly chews on a strawberry chunk as she mulls over your words. "You've been relatively interesting so far, and not rude, so I am not entirely against your idea. But I don't really go on dates." She wipes her mouth with a napkin.
"One date. It'll be fun! We can sit by the lake, and get to know each other." That seems to win her over a fair bit more than what she thought you were asking for. Finally, she sighs gently. "No, not soon, anyways. I'm open to the possibility, but not with my current schedule. It wouldn't be fair to either party, I can't juggle everything like that."
<<set $SyllAff to 1>>
Part of you is considering suggesting something with less dedication involved, but she definitely does not strike you as the kind of girl that would say yes to that. Not everything is lost, however, as she speaks again. "Perhaps in the future. I do feel...potential. Between us. But this is not a good time."
<<set $Swords to $Swords + 1>>
There is no shame in a loss, especially one that could turn into a victory in the future. The delicious lasagna that makes its way to your table definitely doesn't hurt, of course. Syllyvana is respectful and doesn't hold your flirtation over your head, which reassures you that her offer of something in the future is genuine.
As you both finish your meals, you part ways for now, she has classes, and you need to find your dorm room to unpack that comically filled backpack.
[[That went better than it could have. To the dorms!|FindDorm]]You've got to go with that funky flow, brotherman. You open your mind to the rays of cosmic flirtation radiation, and let loose intuition guide you. Her gorgeous eyes are staring at you, somewhat confused, as the pause between your last sentence and your flirtation attempt grows. "We should talk about...my major!" You exclaim, confused by the words coming out of your mouth.
She nods gently. "That's a very good conversation topic! What's brought you to Millerfield University?" She asks, curious now. Words pour from your maw as you follow this thread of consciousness. "Arcane...Theory. I've always been curious about...practical uses for broad aspects of magic."
<<set $Cups to 2>>
The elf's eyes widen somewhat, and she chuckles. "That's pretty close to my own major. I'm more interested in the broad, and the historical, so I've gone for more broad Arcanism." Bingo. You understand what the universe is telling you perfectly now. "That's actually very good to know, because I might need a tutor, I wasn't the best with Magic classes in school, but I want the degree so badly."
She thinks for a bit, chomping on a chunk of melon. "Hm...well, the usual go-to is Glynn, he's a very skilled tutor, and is taking similar courses presently. Very affordable." She offers politely. That won't do, so you continue. "He sounds...very smart, but I get the idea that you're far smarter than him, if you could make the time, I could use some of your experience."
The pale elf stops eating entirely, mulling over your words mightily. The cosmos has left you, and so you must sit in silence alongside her. "I have a very busy schedule. It wouldn't be easy to fit you in, plus, I'm only a Sophomore, I barely have more education in this field than you do right now. They make you take random generic classes to expand your horizons, and to give you something in common with everyone else. That's been most of my work so far."
The cosmos has nothing to offer you here. "But those would include magic //somewhere//, right? When I said I was bad with magic in school, I mean really, ''really'' bad. I need all the help I can get, maybe...it would help you remember the basics." You manage to puzzle out.
"I'm sorry, but I just don't think I can tutor you any time soon, I already have to take care of my brother in that regard this year. But if you're dead-set on me helping you, we might be able to figure something out in the library." That's probably the best you're going to get right now. Not much of a flirt on your part, but you have opened up a future possibility.
<<set $SyllTutor to true>>
You agree, of course, to which she seems pleased. Soon enough your lasagna has arrived, and the two of you eat in relative silence. You might not have a date, but you have a place and promise for another meeting, which is loosely similar. Soon enough you must part ways, as she has a class, and you have a dorm to locate.
[[Just don't forget about the library thing later.|FindDorm]]When thinking of flirtation, this one does sound the most normal. Her pretty eyes have been looking at you for a while now, since you've just been pondering how best to flirt with her. Don't keep her waiting now.
"...sorry, I lost my train of thought. I think your gorgeous eyes are to blame, they're like little oceans, I couldn't look away." You manage, to which she averts her gaze from you, blushing somewhat. "Is this the best use of your time?" She asks you, not meeting your eyes.
<<set $SyllAff to 1>>
Double down, big man. "It absolutely is, it would be criminal for me not to tell you how stunning you look." Syllyvana looks up at you, a vibrant blush spread across her pale features, her eyes piercing. "That's very sweet of you. But I think you've gotten the wrong idea, I...can't do a relationship-thing right now, I'm far too busy...all the time."
<<set $Coin to $Coin + 1>>
Drat. Further persistence would just drive her away. She did seem to like being flirted with, even if she also seemed conflicted over it. She doesn't seem the sort to be interested in a more casual relationship, so you save that idea for someone else. There is one thing you can still do, so you go through with it.
<<set $CompSyllPhone to true>>
The blonde elf watches as you fish around in your over-filled backpack to produce a pen, and grab a napkin. You write your phone number on it, which you didn't even know you knew until now. "If things get any easier, you can call me sometime, and we can arrange something." You tell her with an award-winning smile, which seems to bring a small smile to her own face.
She accepts the napkin, and places it in her purse, which appears decorated with all sorts of interesting pins. Soon your food has arrived, and you're societally forced to eat rather than come up with more words to win her over. It tastes incredible, which softens the blow of delayed gratification.
It isn't too long before you've both finished your respective meals, and it's time to part ways. She smiles gently at you, however, as she heads off to her class. Maybe you have hope with her after all. Who can say for certain.
[[Regardless, it's time to find that dorm of yours, this bag is not going to stay contained much longer.|FindDorm]]Wish granted. Time grinds to a halt, her pencil freezing mid-movement, as you hyperfixate on her appearance.
The cute halfling sitting next to you, under this tree, is only three feet tall. Her hair looks extremely soft, and is a <span style="color:#ff9237">carrot-colored mess of curls.</span> Below that hair is her soft face, the visage of incredible joy in what she does. Her eyes are <span style="color:#97852a">large pools of pure focus, hazel in coloration.</span> Nedallia's pretty smile disarms you almost immediately as you continue looking her over.
She's got a chaotic rainbow tie-die shirt on, that very reasonably //could// have an image hidden in it somewhere, not that you can tell for sure. Beneath that shirt you can make out the shape of her large breasts, each fairly generous in size, but still reasonable to be on her lightly chubby frame. Some would call her 'thicc', and they would not be incorrect, as your eyes continue to wander.
For some reason she's got her insane shirt very formally tucked into her blue jeans, which bulge outward mightily around her shapely rear and hips. Her jeans have holes strategically put into them, probably for style, that show off her <span style="color:#D2996C">toned tan legs beneath the jeans.</span> Your eyes travel a little further, and you can see that she's wearing sandals, which make sense with her attitude so far. Although it makes very little sense with the weather in Millerfield, which is usually cold.
In her small hands she holds a pencil and journal, and you remember that you've got to pick something to do with this woman. For context, she is drawing you, and you last said, "While you're drawing me, we should..."
(You may only choose one.)
[[...look at some of your other drawings!|NedalPics1]]
[[...talk about the campus!|NedalCampus1]]
[[...get to know each other.|NedalKnow1]]
[[...talk about that Urzig person.|NedalUrz1]]
[[Flirt with the shortstack halfling effective-immediately.|NedalFlirt0]]"...look at some of your other drawings!" You exclaim, somewhat interested in what other students she's drawn thus far. She smiles warmly, and nods. "Sure thing, $name! Let me just..." She mutters, making a brief hand motion and muttering some esoteric words. With a soft pink glow, what appears to be a holographic projection of the page she was sketching on conjures before her. She carefully hands you her journal, before continuing to sketch on this artistic projection. "Just be gentle with my journal, pretty please."
You nod, that's reasonable enough. Neat magic trick, too. You begin to turn through a few pages, eyebrows raising at the quality of drawings present. These appear to be some mix between portraits and mood pieces. Each has a name written in the bottom right corner, informing you of who this is.
Naturally you flip through the journal until you find Syllyvana, since that's the only person you know so far, and indeed she's present. Great emphasis has been given to the elf's glasses and eyes, giving the idea of great focus, which fits with the elf being mid-book in this drawing. For one reason or another she's been drawn with a stereotypical magic wand on the table near her. The sun strangely drawn above her despite being indoors gives off the feeling of hope, or maybe enlightenment, but the storm clouds surrounding her suggest conflict, or confusion, maybe isolation.
<<set $Wands to $Wands + 1>>
"Wow, this is...a lot of detail, you're a really good artist. I don't fully understand the symbolism, though." You say, to which the halfling laughs. "Ahh, don't worry, sometimes I just draw, not everything means something, silly. Not to me, anyhow, but art is what you make of it, I suppose."
<<set $NedalPal to 1>>
You flip through a few more pages, and all of her drawings are of similar quality, with similar levels of bizarre symbolism. No others have a random wand added, though.
<<if $SyllMenace is true>>
There is one other student you know of, and based on what you've heard, she'll look pretty unique. As you flip through, it isn't too far before you've found it, an artist's rendition of Quwertee, Syllyvana's menace. A stunning, small-framed girl whose skin is of silver stands in front of the sun, fingers spread. She's blowing a kiss at the viewer, while a beautiful sword dangles over her head on a rope.
Her eyes are drawn as spiteful, despite her pose and blown kiss appearing soft and loving. There's long, flowing hair on her head, textured like hair, whereas the rest of her is of course textured as metal. A wig? Probably so. "...You've drawn her so...beautiful. I've only heard bad things about her so far, but she doesn't even have storm clouds like Syllyvana had."
The halfling shrugs mightily. "Anyone else can paint you a picture of her stomping on an orphan. I've seen her smile, genuinely smile, when she thinks no-one sees her. It's just as beautiful and genuine as anyone else's smile. No-one else is brave enough to walk into the sun. There's beauty in that."<</if>>
Eventually you've had your fill of staring at pretty pictures, and she seems to have finished her drawing of you. You laugh a little as she shows you, it's weird when it's //you// that you're looking at. A young man sits beneath a tree, his shadow long and jagged, his eyes vibrant and curious. He stares longingly at a locked journal, all while a tornado rampages in the background, filled up with playing cards.
"You work...really fast, this looks cool as hell." You say, shaking off the uneasy feelings your shadow gives you in this picture. She beams with pride. "Thank you! I felt this strong mystique from you, like not even ''you'' dare peer into the depths of your soul. It's inspiring." She politely takes her journal back from you, before getting up.
"It was nice to meet you, $name! See ya around." The stacked halfling waves as she walks off, into the crowd of students moving about. Alone once more, with yourself, and that shadow of yours.
[[Sometimes art is just art. It's about time to get to your dorm.|FirstDorm]]"...talk about the campus! I just got here, and I don't think I'm catching that tour, so really whatever you can tell me would be cool." You tell the halfling as she just keeps on sketching away. She nods in agreement, before tapping her chin a few times thoughtfully.
<<set $Cups to $Cups + 1>>
"Well, what d'ya know so far?" She asks politely, to which you inform that you know basically nothing. She giggles. "How did you come all the way here and not learn anything about Millerfield?" She shakes her head, smiling. "That's okay! So, basically, Millerfield University's one of the top performing low-barrier schools in the country. It's got super impressive courses without being a total rich-kid school!" She thinks, before adding on, "Not that there's no rich kids, I mean they're still around, but it isn't //just// them, y'know?"
<<set $NedalPal to 1>>
You nod, as if you do know. "Most people are turned away by the cold weather, or the fact that it's in the middle of nowhere, but I think that adds a certain beauty to this campus of ours." She keeps sketching, occasionally glancing to you as she does so. "It's got a really darn good sport team! And the cheerleaders are pretty, and the theater kids are only a little confusing!" The halfling gushes with excitement, she really is like this all the time.
<<set $NedalCampus to true>>
"What about the, uh...frats and stuff? What're they like?" You ask, wanting to figure out this college thing as much as possible. The tanned shortstack blushes a little, before nodding rapidly. "Oh, they're lovely! None of them really get along, though, so I'd be careful who you associate with if you wanna party with them. None of the houses hold onto the no-coed thing, I guess because the school turns a blind eye?" She holds up a finger as she starts counting.
<<set $KnowsFrats to true>>
"Beta Alpha Delta...Alpha Kappa Tau...Kappa Epsilon Kappa...Chi Omicron Chi...Zeta Zeta Zeta...those are the main ones, you have some weird 'professional' groups that don't have houses, but they just kinda keep to themselves." She looks down to her sketchbook again, continuing her work. "BAD is nice, mostly guys, they've got bad attitudes but good hearts, and lean really hard into drinking. You'll not find bigger party animals. They're also total womanizers!" The curly-haired girl laughs.
"AKT is where the eccentric performers and artists go, total nutcases!" She taps on her chin again. "I'm kidding, they're mostly nice, but I'm biased. Really anyone with a creative streak can join, there's a pretty even split of guys and girls, too." You can see her starting to shade whatever drawing she's made of you. "KEK is really silly...I don't really know how they became a house, because they let responsibility slide right off of them. It's also a pretty even split of guys and girls. No house cares less about college than them, but they sure know how to have fun! They haven't started their prank war for this year just yet, though." She chuckles.
She seems to be focusing on your shadow heavily for who knows what reason while drawing. "X-O-X is...mostly just attractive girls. They're harsher on what guys they let in than most, for one reason or another, I dunno why. Also they only really party in their own house, which the BADs hate, since it means the ball's not in their court with X-O-X girls."
As she seems to finish her drawing, in what you consider to be record time, she concludes, "And 3-Z never sleeps. Well, okay, they do, of course, but they're all extremely hard workers. They've got that even split thing going on too, and even though there's a heavy jock presence, there's also a huge geek presence, and a business major or two. So...they have this weird multiple president thing going on that I won't pretend to understand."
You blink. That was a lot of information to take in, and a lot of random letters thrown at you in various acronyms. BADs, AKTs, KEKs, XOXs, ZZZs...Party boys, creatives, pranksters, sexy ladies, and hard workers...not the usual archetypes, but these ones are yours to witness. For some reason the hard workers have a representative system in place? You'd keep pondering this, but the cute halfling has been showing you her drawing of you for the past couple of moments.
A very well-drawn image of yourself, with great detail put into your eyes, which stare hungrily at your locked journal. Your own shadow stretches onward intimidatingly, threatening yourself and the world around you, while a twister of playing cards rages on in the background. You don't understand some of the symbolism, but it does look quite good. "I'm glad you like it! I felt it best captured the strange essence of being $name! You have this slight edge to you, and a great curiosity, while the world ticks on around us."
You have no idea if that describes you, but you've never been drawn before, so the novelty of a little you on paper appeals greatly. "Oh, gosh, I lost track of time again, I gotta get going! It was swell to meet ya. I hope my talking helps you out, college can be confusing without a guide!" She quickly stands, brushing herself off, before hurrying into the crowd of students, gone from your side.
[[College is alphabet soup where all the letters interact using parties as a language. To the dorm!|FirstDorm]]"...get to know each other! Maybe it'll help us remember each other better." You offer, to which she smiles warmly. "Oki-dokie! That sounds fun. So, I think you're a freshman, I'm a Junior, and the President of the Alpha Kappa Tau. We're...mostly creatives, plus we're coed, which is pretty par for the course for Millerfield." Your eyes widen. "Wow, you're...really stress-free for that kind of position."
Nedallia shrugs, while continuing to draw. "I have a really good group supporting me, plus it bites to get too hung-up on titles and planning. You get it done, and suddenly the stress doesn't matter." That's one way of doing it, and probably different from how most people see it. "How about yourself? What's youuuurrrr...favorite color?" She asks as an ice-breaker.
"Purple." You say with absolute confidence, despite having no idea what your favorite color should be. "I...don't know why, it just is. What're you in college for?" You ask her, to which she giggles something fierce. "Oh, you silly goose, I'm here for Fine Arts. It's what I like, what I'm good at, it's...me! And when I'm not focusing on that, I'm here for my fratrority. We used to be super elitist before I was in charge, it was bad."
<<set $Coin to $Coin + 1>>
Interesting. "Where do you come from, Nedallia?" You ask her, trying to peek at her drawing of you while she's staring at your eyes. "Oh! North California, by the beach. You'd figure I'd never have left, since the beaches are gorgeous, and there's no shortage of pretty people to draw, but it all felt too...fake, no-one was really being themselves there. So now I'm here!"
She said 'North California' as if it was a state, which it definitely is in this world, which you totally always knew and weren't confused over. "Where do youuuu come from, $name? You have an interesting way of speaking, I'm curious!" Your head begins to pound as you struggle to find an answer to that question, and out of a strange self-preservation, your mind stops you from digging too deep. You do not know.
"Weast-wauld. It's...warm. Very small place, I left to get an education, which only this place could offer." You say with unshaking false confidence, but you can't fool yourself. She offers a few hmmms in response to that. "I've never heard of Weastwald! It sounds nice, though. I'd have loved growing up in a small town, in a big city I'm just one face of many. But I guess I'd just want the opposite if I grew up in a small town!" She beams at you.
"Such is life." You offer, head calming down somewhat. "Have you drawn all your life?" You ask, causing her to think in an almost exaggerative way, but it seems genuine. "Uhhh, hmmmmmm...I guess not always, when I was little bitty I was more interested in bugs and deer instead of drawings. But my granny had to wrestle me away from a giant centipede a few too many times, so she showed me how to draw. Way safer for a kid, apparently, and it's really fun!" She seems to be shading something now.
<<set $NedalAff to 2>>
"What's your favorite food?" She asks you, a question you can actually answer. "Lagaznah!" You exclaim, "It tastes incredible, I've never had anything like it. How can something so amazing actually exist?" She coos in an interested fashion. "I've never had Lagaznah, it sounds good, though. I ''looooove'' potato soup, and it can feed a LOT of people if you really get into it!"
You're thinking of another question, but she's finished drawing by then. "This was nice! Have a looksie, $name." The girl shows you a very detailed drawing of you, entirely in pencil. You sit beneath a tree, staring with keen focus upon that locked journal of yours. A grim shadow, your shadow, grows out of control and threatens to rise up, and in the background a beautiful hurricane of cards spins wildly. You're not especially artsy, so what you get from it is largely surface-level, but it sure looks nice.
"You work fast, Nedallia!" You inform her, somewhat entranced by seeing a version of yourself that's flat. "Thanks, buddy! I've gotta get going now, but you're very neato. We should talk again sometime!" She bounces up, giving a somewhat overly formal bow to you, before walking into the ceaseless swarm of students. Alone with your thoughts.
[[A pleasant pause in your path to unpacking, it would be good to resume reaching the dorms, however.|FirstDorm]]"...talk about that Urzig person! That's the reason we're even here together right now, right?" You ask, to which she nods rapidly. "That's true! Urzig has a way of helping people, and today she helped me meet you!" Nedallia smiles, eyes keenly focused on her rapidly growing drawing of you.
"Urzig's like...the strongest person I know. Well, okay, maybe one person is stronger, but Urzig's strong //and// a good person, which makes her strong of heart!" The halfling thinks for a moment. "She helped me get my journal out of a tree when these jerkwads stole it and threw it. Didn't beat the guys up, because she's way more patient than me."
<<set $Nedalpal to 1>>
"She sounds pretty cool, and way more...well-rounded than most people our age." You say, vaguely sure of that statement's validity. "Ah, well, her parents are uber-harsh, so she had no real choice but to rise to the occasion or crumble, and she made it. She's from Millerfield, actually! And there's not a lot of students here that grew up here, mind you, so that's pretty neat."
While the halfling is sketching your eyes, she absent-mindedly offers a few 'hmmm's of thought. "Has she been in college long?" You ask, which draws Nedallia free from her thoughts. "Oh, well, she's on her second year, so...a little bit! Sports team loves her, but everyone's always trying to downplay her awesome achievements since she's just a Sophomore. It happens, but it's super...wack!" Nedallia exclaims, throwing up her arms.
"Sorry for freaking out like that, it just makes me angry, since she's just such a hard worker." The cute curly-haired gal resumes her sketching of you. "It's alright. I feel strong emotions sometimes too." You reassure her in a normal manner. "That's good! You're funny." She chuckles. "Let's seeee...I think Ziggy...that's my nickname for her...is in college for Education? Which, I think is super noble, because she could just be a sports superstar forever if she wanted." You nod slowly, wondering if she'll talk this way about you to someone else she meets.
<<set $Swords to $Swords + 1>>
"Beyond that, I don't really know, you'd have to get to know her, she'd be happy to meet someone new, oh, and she just loves it when people treat her like...a person, instead of this monolith." You raise an eyebrow. "Aren't...you treating her like a monolith right now?" You ask, to which she shakes her head while shading the drawing. "Ohoh, no, silly, I talk this way about everyone I know! I wouldn't say something if it weren't a little true, though, she really is strong and kind."
<<set $UrzigNedal to true>>
You shrug. That's a fair enough point. You don't have a lot of other questions about the stranger, really, so you ask her how she'd talk about you. "Hmmmm...I think you're curious, and easily distracted, and fun! And you look at your journal funny, like it owes you money. But I get this feeling from you, y'know? This vague vibe that there's something deep down, something beautiful." You avert your gaze, is she flirting with you, or do people just say this about people to their faces?
She doesn't keep going, so it...presumably wasn't flirtation. Soon enough she's showing you the finished drawing, and it really is well done. The background holds a violent tornado of playing cards, closing in fast to meet you, angry and confused at your journal, your eyes highly detailed. While this all happens, your shadow is long beneath you, is it shielding you? Suffocating you? Hard to say.
"Wow, this is...really good." You say, to which she smiles at you. "Good, good! Now, it was swell to meet ya, but I've got a class to catch, so take it easy-breezy, $name!" She stands, walking off from you, leaving you alone to your thoughts.
[[Well. You know more about an athlete, and also about how others view you. Time to get that bag unpacked.|FirstDorm]]You look her up and down, the rest of your sentence caught in your mouth. She's...really quite attractive, and she has curves in all the right places. The big beautiful smile probably does it for you a little too. As you're waiting for your options to appear, your eyes stay hyperfixated on her large breasts, which seem to slowly start heaving up and down. Such beautiful jiggling, pressed tight against that captivating rainbow pattern shirt. You're drawn out of your trance by her giggling. "It's like a cat with a laser pointer!" She exclaims, moving her arm from under her breasts. Oh. She was moving them.
"Oh, I..." You begin, but not even you can magically come up with some insane way to justify what was happening. Luckily she seems to be taking it with pride, and immense amusement. "You're funny, $name! And a total perv, too! Some girls find that off-putting, y'know?" She offers, apparently not off-put enough to stop drawing you.
<<set $flirtstat to $flirtstat + 1>>
"But...not you?" You ask, not sure if you're meant to be ashamed or not. "Oh, silly, I've been to too many parties to care about someone looking at me! But that street goes both ways. No getting fussy if someone's eye-fucking you for a change." She says, putting pencil to lips as she looks you up and down, eyes lingering longer than they normally would on your groin.
<<if $flirtstat is 2>>This is going way, way differently from the first time. Syllyvana was really reserved, and never would have started looking at you this way in public. Probably. Flirting is strange and complex.
<<else>>She's one forward girl! If she wasn't busy drawing, she might be doing something else to you, it really feels like that sketchbook is the only thing keeping her from continuing this weird verbal dance you're having.<</if>>
Well, if she's busy drawing, that puts the ball in your court...but how to go about flirting with this shortstack artist girl?
[[We can cut to the chase, be blunt, that's basically what we're doing already.|NedalFlirtSwords0]]
[[This girl, of all girls, needs flattery and warm words.|NedalFlirtCoin0]]
[[I should try my luck to a comical degree, lady luck will carry me.|NedalFlirtCups0]]
[[Baseless flirting might win the battle, but I need to match her creative mind to win the war.|NedalFlirtWands0]]<<if visited() >= 2>>The twinkish guide waits patiently behind his little desk, as you ponder your next move for a normal amount of time.
<<else>>Your legs know the path to your future dorm better than your brain does, and luckily for both of them the crowd of people walking around has largely dispersed, leaving only the strange people like you around.
The building itself is a tall thing, made up of brickwork on the outside, with two tall doors on the front entrance. A bit of a fire hazard, given that you see no other exits, but there's no time to dwell on that, you have to figure out where to sleep at night. Just inside of the building is a little desk, with a strange...'cat-boy' sat behind it.
He waves over to you warmly, briefly making you wonder if you're meant to know this person already. "Hi. I'm $name." You offer while approaching, having learned that giving names is customary in conversations. This caramel-skinned cat-boy looks to be a student like you, with well-kept wavy brown hair. And, of course, twitching cat ears jutting from his head.
"Hey, $name! Great to meet you. I'm Hilx, I take it it's your first day?" He speaks a mile a minute, his brown eyes staring in your direction but not truly at you. You get the impression he greets everyone who walks in, and it's around now that you notice the big sign on the desk that labels it as a 'Help Desk'. The pamphlets and cool maps also reveal this fact.
<<set $MetHilx to true>>
He follows your gaze, and helpfully offers you one of the maps, and the last pamphlet you stared at. You just sort of put them into your bulging bag for later use, a map could be quite handy, as well as a booklet on the importance of communication. "Need anything else, my friend?" The cat-boy asks purely out of obligation, while sounding utterly interested in your answer.
<</if>>
<<if not hasVisited("HilxLook1")>>[[Tell me more about Hilx's appearance before I choose.|HilxLook1]]<</if>>
<<if not hasVisited("HilxYou1")>>[[I should ask this twinkish cat-guy about my dorm.|HilxYou1]]<</if>>\
<<if not hasVisited("HilxHilx1")>>[[I want to get to know this guy some.|HilxHilx1]]<</if>>\
<<if hasVisited("HilxYou1")>>''The following options are one-way:''<</if>>
<<if hasVisited("HilxYou1")>>[[You had me at cat-boy twink. It's flirting time.|HilxFlirt0]]<</if>>\
<<if hasVisited("HilxYou1")>>[[Well, I know where I can unpack now, better get there.|DormTour0]]<</if>>\Let this dance of words conclude with bluntness, then. You find your resolve, and stare deeply into her eyes. "We should move past this teasing, Nedallia, and have some real fun." She giggles a little bit more, but there are clearly cogs turning in her head. "I'm not so sure you're ready for that, big guy. Plus, I'm still drawing!" She taps her sketchbook for emphasis.
//You're// not ready for a random jump into an almost-stranger's pants? How absurd! "If it's about me being ready, let me tell you, I'm more than ready. I've never seen a girl like you before, and I think I'm picking up on something between us." You don't really understand the definition of sexual tension, or chemistry, but at least one of those applies. She's already been fucking you with her eyes, after all.
<<set $Swords to $Swords + 1>>
The tanned shortstack offer a gentle 'hmmmm' of thought, almost exaggerated. She's playing with you! "I dunno...I //am// still drawing, and we're just sat under a tree, y'know? People usually have a dorm room to disappear into for this sort of thing." Her big hazel eyes are keenly focused on that drawing of hers, a slight smirk on her face.
Shit. You definitely don't have a dorm room to disappear into. But she's being far too playful to not at least be considering something light and fun with you. You can definitely get something from this, if you want, but the question is how?
[[I'll just carry her to her place! Wherever that is.|NedalFlirtSwordsCont]]
[[There will be no dire consequences to fooling around in public.|NedalFlirtSwordsCoin]]Fortune favors the bold, so hopefully fortune includes bubbly halfling butt. Open your mind to the cosmic flirtation database, mister cupman. You stroll over to Nedallia, before tripping like an inept clown instead of the strapping college student with a functioning nervous system that you really are. Your head is saved from concussion by her having dived out to catch you. Holy shit, she's got pretty fast reflexes. Or she expected you to trip, which is less favorable to that nervous system theory.
<<set $Cups to $Cups + 1>>
"Gosh! That was...super close!" She exclaims as you struggle onto your feet. as to not crush the shortstack's hands any more than you just have. Nedallia stands up as well, brushing the dirt off of her tie-dye rainbow madness shirt. "Yeah, thanks for that...I genuinely have no idea what happened there."
The two of you stand there for a time, regaining your respective composures, when you remember that you're meant to be flirting with this woman. Being comically forward is out of the question, now that she's saved you from falling, so you have to get creative.
<<if $Cups is 3>>You feel the pulsing of the core of the planet beneath you, the swaying of the tree above you, all signs point to saying something truly insane in the moment. Stay the course, brother-man. "So, I've been having <span style="color:gold"> ''strange dreams lately.''</span> Could you...help me with them?" You ask, sounding truly puzzled by your own question.
Nedallia offers a gentle 'hmmm' as she ponders what you've just randomly asked her, seeming to take in her surroundings with great care. "Well, I //am// pretty good with dream-based magic...I could definitely give it a try!" The halfling seems to rub her hands together rapidly, a static charge of magic building up between them, before jumping slightly in response to her phone ringing noisily.
She stops the casting, causing the sparking magic to harmlessly evaporate away into thin air. For a few moments she talks on the phone, before looking at you and apologizing. "Sorry, I've got to go to my fratrority, we'll have to do this later." She offers you her phone, to put your number into, which you do.
<<set $NedalCompPhone to true>>
It isn't long before she's walked off, leaving you to your own devices. That was inconvenient timing, you had almost made progress on your apparently strange dreams. Your dreams are indeed pretty strange and existentially terrifying, what with the inky abyss.
[[Maybe she'll call later. All that's for sure is that you need to get to that dorm of yours and unpack.|FirstDorm]]
<<elseif $Coin is 2>>It might just be your own lack of memory regarding your family talking, but you should absolutely bring up this girl's family. "So," you start, breaking the growing silence, "...got any siblings?" For some reason this question makes the mood shift strangely.
"Oh, yeah, just one! My older sister, Madison. She's great!" The halfling exclaims with a smile. <span style="color:gray">A fake smile.</span> Interesting, and a good reason to not keep pushing her on the subject. Since you've paused, she returns the question in kind. "No, I'm...an only child." You say, at least 20% sure of that fact.
Nedallia thinks for a little bit, before asking you what that's like. "It's...lonely, sometimes I feel as if no-one else can really...relate to me. If someone came into this world alongside me, at least they'd understand everything I go through. Y'know?" You offer, somewhat surprised at the opening up you're doing to Nedallia and yourself.
<<set $NedalAff to 1>>
The tanned girl nods. "I never thought of it that way before. If it helps at all, this college has plenty of people in it...I bet you'll find plenty of people to relate to! Plus, there's the fratrorities for finding a new second family." She offers, quickly checking her phone. The time seems to shock her, and she laughs a little to herself. "I'm running late again! Gosh, it was nice to meet you, $name, but I've gotta go. We should hang out again sometime!"
[[She's off not long after that, but you do feel a little friendlier with each other because of your mutual yet distinct sibling issues.|FirstDorm]]
<<else>>Some vague synonym of ambition feels appropriate, but you can't grasp the exact word. You try your best, obviously. "So, what strong pull guides you?" You ask, to which she giggles profusely. "You have, just, the best way of talking ever! Never ever change it..." She trails off, consumed by amusement, before eventually continuing. "...uhh, but, the biggest thing driving me right now is my degree. Not for the degree itself, that's silly. It's for the people along the way." You raise your eyebrow, confused.
"Oh, well, I'm sure I could get a simple little underpaying job with an art degree, and drown in debt, but the greats didn't all get degrees. That's silly! No, I need to meet the right people, and use them as a diving board into artistic super-stardom." She pauses a bit, before shrugging. "...or it won't shake out that way, but either way, I'm here to meet people, to make the big connections." You start thinking about your own major just as she asks you about it.
"Arcane...Theory?" You say, unsure at first if that's correct. It ''feels'' correct, so you repeat yourself, more sure. "Yes. Arcane Theory. I have a deep interest in practical and new applications for magic." The tanned halfling smiles, "Wow! Only super smart people get degrees in magic! I don't envy you for all those extra classes with Professor Sagax...but if you need help with the basic stuff, I took very good notes."
"Like...cheating?" You ask, more to clarify than out of outrage. "...huh? Oh, I guess, but I meant to like study." Hey, wait, that's the ''perfect'' in! "I'm not great with just paper, but I'd love any help you can give still." She giggles a little, "Oh, you want //me// to tutor you?"
<<set $NedalTutor to true>>
"Yeah, that'd be great help! I know my degree is all about magic, but I'm actually really out of practice with it." You admit, not a total lie, you have no idea how to cast things. The shortstack seems to mull over the suggestion, before agreeing wholeheartedly. "Yea, sure! I'm most free just before bedtime, unless it's the weekend or a holiday, or something comes up. I live in the AKT House, meet me there sometime." Apparently playing teacher interests her deeply.
Well, it isn't quite the usual kind of date, but you have a place and time of day that you can semi-reliably meet her at. Maybe this degree you're trying to get has its uses after all!
[[Soon she's excusing herself, to get to class, and you really need to unpack your bag in that dorm of yours.|FirstDorm]]<</if>><<set $Wands to $Wands + 1>>She really is quite cute, and her big gorgeous eyes are portals into a deep and creative soul. It would probably be quite easy to just keep escalating your current weird sex-tense interaction, but that's not really all that meaningful, is it?
The bubbly halfling continues looking you up and down while sketching away, clearly anticipating your next move. Now to find your resolve, and your words...
<<if $Wands is 3>>You find strange inspiration in her purposeful sketching, "Even while perfect, the great works do not match the incredible sight before me." You begin, which seems to get her attention. Nedallia seems like she's trying to decipher your loosely poetic words, but you just keep going. "Not oils, nor pastels come close at all, the tones of those pools of off-gold sparkle more vibrantly than the sun in all its glory. That must be why you come off as such a sunray, brightening the world itself."
That one was a little lengthy, but she absolutely catches on to your blatant flattery since calling someone a ray of sunshine isn't exactly a new concept. The tanned artist quietly closes her journal, and giggles noisily. "You took this a funny direction, $name..." It comes out somewhat dismissively, but the blush on her face tells you that she is basking in your artistic praise. Like a plant in the sun. Or...something. That comparison doesn't work when she's being called a sun-ray...
The curly-haired babe presses the advantage when you're paused, pondering plants and suns, having closed the gap between you scarily fast for someone with such short legs. "If you keep talking like that, you might just get a girl's number. Or shoved into a locker." She giggles again. "...but I'm too short to shove you into a locker, so, I guess we'll just have to try option A, huh?" She winks at you, before writing out her number on a slip of paper. Soon you're putting it into your phone.
<<set $NedalPhone to true>>
When you look up, the halfling looks to be checking her phone. "Oh, gosh, I'd love to stay and hear you say all sorts of cute stuff about me, but I gotta bounce, classes, y'know?" She waits a little longer, and you realize she's waiting for you to text her.
<<set $NedalAff to 3>>
You text the most powerful sentence known to man: "Hi." to which the halfling's smile seems a little more fond. It's a tender interaction, the start of something interesting, perhaps. But not now, not while she's gently putting her phone away, and walking to class. When she's reached the bottom of the hill, you receive a "Hey! :v)" in return from her. Nice.
[[This is the foundation of something more...But for now, you really should unpack your bag.|FirstDorm]]
<<else>>She really is hard at work with that sketch of you, with unwavering focus...it's now or never, brotherman. "I've never seen such gorgeous eyes before your own, like pools of starstuff, content to look unwaveringly forward, to the future, with vibrance." You begin, to which the halfling shifts a little bit before looking up to you. Those pools of hazel-starstuff seem to ponder your words heavily, before she begins giggling loudly. Try as you might, you can't figure out how to continue your thoughts with her laughing and blushing so cutely.
<<set $NedalAff to 1>>
Eventually she seems to collect herself, before averting her gaze oddly awkwardly for the high-energy shortstack. "You're really silly, $name! Talking like a poet...it's really dorky, and kinda...cute?" She shrugs gently, turning back into her high-energy self. "If you need a fratrority to join, absolutely try out for AKT, you'd fit right in, and I might even make the initiation special for you. If you talk like that to me again sometime." She giggles, and blows you a kiss.
She's clearly trying to fluster you, but you're not so easy. <<if $Coin >= 2>>//But why try to fluster you? Maybe it's because she herself is flustered, hmm?//<</if>><<if $Cups >= 2>>//There's more than just words to be exchanged in the look she gives you.//<</if>> There's an almost romantic tension between the two of you, with her unwilling to move first, and you unable to figure out the right words to completely overwhelm her. Nedallia simply checks her phone, realizes the time, and wishes you a good first day. You'll get her next time.
[[You might not have won the war just yet, but you can tell that you're still heavy on her mind. Now to unpack that damn heavy bag of yours.|FirstDorm]]
<</if>>"Where's your place?" You ask her simply, to which she finally looks up at you, eyebrows raised somewhat. "Golly, am I //that// attractive to ya, $name?" You blink slowly. "Yes." She laughs loudly in response to your blunt answer.
She slowly wipes little tears from her eyes from the immense amounts of laughing that you've drawn from her. "Ahhh, you're very silly, you know that?" She smiles almost mischeviously. "If you're a brave enough guy, I //suppose// we can go to my place. It's this cool, big house, three stories, has the letters 'AKT' on its front. Can't miss it." Oh, she's matching your energy.
<<if $Swords is 3>>You scoop her up in your arms, bridal style, allowing her to continue sketching the whole trip as she gives you vague directions. Your hand runs down her back occasionally, but too low and she starts wiggling, and since you don't really want to drop her it keeps you in check. You can feel the strength of her smooth toned legs, leaving you smiling somewhat as you pass by various students who peer at you two confused or jealous or weirded out.
<<else>>It takes a few attempts, but you manage to pick her up in your arms. She's really not that heavy, but you've never picked someone up before. The added weight of her thicc tanned body causes you to stumble occasionally, making her shout exaggerated "Wheeeee" noises, which get both of you many looks from the ambient swarm of students.<</if>>
It's a bit of a trip getting to the house she's described, and your eyes widen somewhat as you realize it's a frat...sorority...college group house thing. Usually those aren't coed, but you for some reason know that Millerfield's fraternities are all technically coed, despite all tradition and precedent elsewhere. Inclusive, and very interesting for your purposes! Your hesitation is noted by Nedallia, who peers past her sketchbook at you. "Don't be chicken now, silly! You wanted this, right?" She's trying to psyche you out, but you won't break so easy.
As you approach the door, several members of the house peer at you from the lawn out front. Some of them cheer, while others roll their eyes. It isn't until you're inside, the door an interesting challenge, that someone actually walks to you and says something. A tall girl wearing purple and gold, with soft cocoa skin, who stares down at Nedallia disapprovingly.
"So...who's this?" She asks, walking alongside you as the halfling lazily points to the stairs. "Oh, this is $name! He's really funny. $name, this is Rubi, she's my vice-president!" You blink a few times, you are currently carrying the president of a fratrority. "Hi." You offer simply, pointed all the way to the highest floor.
Rubi shakes her head slowly, continuing to trail. "And here I thought you were figuring out how to test the new pledges this year." Nedallia giggles, eyes meeting Rubi's own brown eyes. "Rubi, you worry too much! Of course I was doing that, I can multitask juuust fine. Get with me later," She offers, as you enter a hallway on the third floor.
There's several doors up here, some decorated, some not. It's easy enough to figure out which one is the halfling's, based on the insanely colorful paint covering the door itself. It's right at the end of the hall. "...and I'll tell ya my idea. You'll love it!" Rubi sighs, offering a small smile to the girl. "As long as you aren't waiting until the last minute again."
You open up the door to Nedallia's room, and watch as she kicks the door closed behind you two. "Don't mind Rubi, she means well, but she stresses too much." You nod slowly, dropping her onto her big fluffy bed. That was getting heavy.
[[Proceed posthaste.|NedalFuckHome1]]This might not be the easiest sell, but you're going to give it a try if nothing else. The pretty tanned halfling is wiggling occasionally as she continues drawing you, that smile on her face a touch more perverted than before because of what you've both done. The tension is thick, in a similar way to her body. You inhale deeply, before striding over to her.
<<if $Coin is 2>>
"Hm?" She asks toward you as you relax next to her, slyly putting an arm around her, to which she giggles to herself. That's not quite enough, however, so you put your mouth by her ear before whispering into it, causing her to shudder and blush at the sensation. "What do you say we cut to the chase, and have a little fun together?" You can feel her wiggling a little bit, her pencil going still for the first time in a while.
"Oh, golly..." She says, somewhat overwhelmed, her little heart beating rapidly. "...yeah, that could be fun...where's your place?" She asks curiously, leaning against your body. One of her soft hands is lingering close to your thighs. "Oh, well, I figured it'd be a lot more interesting if we went at it //right here.//" You whisper into her ear, holding her hand and leading it gently toward the massive bulge in your pants.
Nedallia's tanned hand presses softly against your pants, shaking a little as she processes what you're suggesting. You can see her hazel eyes looking all around at the campus grounds around you, the students and staff walking around on the various stone paths, so far from the hill, but so close all the same. "...got a blanket in that bag of yours?" She asks, finally seeming to make a choice. Your eyes widen somewhat at the fact that she's going along with this, but you quickly grab a folded blue blanket out of your bag.
[[Hand the shortstack halfling your childhood blanket.|NedalFuckPublic1]]
<<else>>"Hmm?" She asks you, an eyebrow raised slightly. You stretch a bit, before sitting down next to her, close as can be. You lean toward her ear, before whispering. "Wanna have some fun, you and me?" She blushes profusely, giggles a little, before nodding slowly. "Well, I //do// like fun...if you think you can handle this...where's your dorm?" She asks, looking up from her sketchbook at you, or moreso at the bulge in your pants.
<<set $MysteryNumber to true>>
Alright. Talk goodly. That's you, the talk goodly guy, you're great at it, all the time. Why, you've never talked badly in your entire life! "I have no idea, I was thinking we could have fun right here and now." You say, award-winning smile on display, to which she laughs. She chuckles and giggles and snorts, before calming down. "Oh, gosh, you're for real! Sorry, but, I'm not especially comfortable fooling around in public spaces. Definitely not while a ton of people walk around down there, they could see us no problem." The hazel-eyed halfling looks into your eyes, frowning a tiny bit.
She shakes her head slowly, before offering a gentle smile. "But, I don't want to ruin your very first day, so...hold on, lemme see..." Nedallia begins to fish around in her pockets, eventually producing a small slip of paper with...someone's phone number on it. "Don't call this number, only text it. And don't give it to anyone else. Okidokie?" She asks you, to which you confusedly nod in agreement.
Eventually you get bored of standing aimlessly, and sit down by the girl. She doesn't move away, not even when you put your arm around her. That seems to make her giggle extra, and it isn't too long before you see that she's finished drawing you.
It looks like there's a swirling tornado making up the background behind you, while you're sat beneath this damn tree staring hungrily at your locked journal. Your eyes are piercing, and lustful, and she's put a lot of sketched detail into your confusingly lengthy shadow. She appears to have put extra time into making sure the creasees of your pants show off a raging boner.
Despite not getting off, you are still impressed by the detail of the drawing, and the accuracy to the current state of your pants. "That's actually really good, you work fast." You say, to which she offers a little kiss on your hand. "Thanks, big guy. I'd love to just stay here and relax," She says, rubbing her eyes, "...but I've got classes to get to. Until we meet again!" She exclaims, getting onto her feet, and walking into the swarm of students on the campus grounds.
Alone with yourself, and that phone number. You'll...probably text it later, in the comfort of your own dorm room. You'll just have to get to it first.
[[To the dorm!|FirstDorm]]<</if>>[[Support 52-Card|"https://www.patreon.com/LemniscateStories"]]
<<if _NEDALLIA is true>><span class="normal">[[THIS IS NOT A DREAM.]]</span><</if>> <<if $name is "No-Name">>''NO-NAME WAS HERE.''<</if>> <<if _start is true>>''An 18+ Existential Fantasy College Game.''<</if>> <<if _KnifeStar is true>>''They Call You Knife-Star''<</if>> <<if _GoldClub is true>>''Hello Mister Silver-Stave.''<</if>>
<<if $Wands gt 0>><span style="color:#FF3333">''WANDS:'' $Wands</span><</if>>
<<if $Swords gt 0>><span style="color:#FFFFC5">''SWORDS:'' $Swords</span><</if>>
<<if $Coin gt 0>><span style="color:#B2FBA5">''COIN:'' $Coin</span><</if>>
<<if $Cups gt 0>><span style="color:#90D5FF">''CUPS:'' $Cups</span><</if>>
<<if $InDorm is true>>[[Floor Map]]<</if>>
<<if $CharacterSheets is true>>[[Character Reminders]]<</if>>The tanned halfling stares up at you from her bed of fluffy black blankets, smiling gently. "So," She starts, pulling her rainbow madness shirt off of her, huge breasts springing free, kept in place only by a black bra with little red hearts decorating it all over. You keep your jaw from the floor as best as you are able as she squeezes her bountiful breasts together tightly, before laying flat on her back. "...let's see your stuff, big boy."
<<set $SexValue to $SexValue + 1>>
You nod, struggling out of your jeans and underwear as quickly as you're able, letting your fat monster cock twitch in the cool air of the bedroom. She coos lovingly while watching it, motioning for you to come hither slowly. As you crawl over onto the bed, body overtop hers, you can't help but stare down into her big hazel eyes. She flutters her eyes at you sweetly, before blowing you a kiss. "Why don't you bring that big guy to my boobies and I'll make your body go all shakey?" How could anyone resist such an offer? You shuffle your knees forward until your throbbing cock is pressed against her bra.
You have no idea how to remove a bra, but luckily she doesn't make you learn today. Nedallia snaps her finger once, and you see a warm, thin liquid dripping from both of her hands, conjured from thin air. You quickly note that it appears to be lube, based on how slick it's making your penis as she sensually runs her hands over its every inch. You can't take your eyes off of her hands, small as they might be, no singular one could hope to fully grip your shaft, but together they're acting as a tight sensation teasing and jacking you off.
"You like that, $name?" She asks you, moving her hands in big, tight motions, with such ease that it's absurd. "I really do, it's fucking great..." You say, basking in the sensation of her slowly squeezing and milking your penis with her hands. If you stayed like this, it would prove an extremely satisfying orgasm, but neither you nor her are entirely content to stay like this. You both seem to want more physical contact. The tanned artist aims your penis carefully, positioning awkwardly for but a few moments, before sliding it up beneath her bra, and between her big fat tits.
You clench your teeth from the sensation as she begins moving them up and down your length roughly, all while she coos and moans. "Mmmm...a lotta fellas would die to get to fuck my boobs, y'know?" She says, speeding up her self-titfuck, breasts squeezing and crushing your cock between their fat embrace. "...so I think you really should give it your all. I don't think I'll be happy until that dirty cock is peeking out at me." Who are you to let the lady be sad? Your limited self-control has its limits, damn it!
You begin to thrust your hips rapidly and roughly, smacking against her breasts noisily with numerous lewd ''SMACK''ing noises that are almost certainly audible outside of the room. The bed creaking is also probably quite loud, but you're too consumed in her cute, sexy moans and the incredible feeling of fucking her breasts like an animal. You can't keep at this forever, but by God it feels too good to slow down.
Soon enough you've pushed hard and fast enough to expose the tip of your cock to her face, at first impolitely knocking against her chin, but soon she's positioning you in such a way that she can kiss it with each thrust. "You," She kisses your tip lewdly, "Love." Once more. "These titties." Again she kisses and suckles at your tip. "Don't ya?" She squeezes her tits tight, giving you pause. She swiftly abuses the free time to noisily slurp up your dripping, oozing pre-cum.
You pant, and groan, and otherwise sound like a sex-addled animal, as she looks far upward at you, to try to meet your gaze, while noisily making out with your dripping cockhead. Her eyes are sparkling, and gorgeous, and it might be the heat of the moment, but, "Yes! I fucking love your fat tits, you insatiable trollop!" She snorts a little, and giggles profusely at your very bizarre word choice, but is still clearly utterly hopeless for your enormous dick. Just as you're currently hopeless for her big fat tits, and that hungry mouth of hers.
She wiggles out from beneath you, leaving your dripping cock pulsing in the air. Soon the halfling is pushing you onto your side, then your back, but mostly because you let her...she is quite small, after all. Her tanned, freshly fucked cleavage finds its way around your dick once more, but this time she's the one on her knees. Nedallia begins to move her tits once more, driving you to shudder anew, this time it's slower, more meticulous. The busty halfling is taking her time working you closer and closer to your impending orgasm.
"So, trollop, huh?" She asks you innocently, far too innocently for a woman building you up and up and up with her fat breasts. She tilts her head downward, laying a quick, but messy, smooch onto your dickhead as she brings it past her breasts. "I've //never// heard that one!" She smiles, raising her breasts high, and making your cock once again disappear in her vast cleavage. "I'll take it over slut, I guess. That one's just so...unimaginative." She slams her breasts against your hips roughly, jerking you off in one swift motion. With your exposed cockhead present again, she begins a proper makeout session.
You lay there, thrusting your hips against her breasts, tip pressed to her lips, as she suckles and teases your sensitive dick mercilessly. Soon you've made some progress in her mouth, but you're overwhelmed with all the more teasing pleasure as her tongue dances around your cocktip, lapping up pre-cum like an addict. The searing eye-contact makes your penis twitch dangerously. You were already close, but the strange pause is broken as she begins to slam her breasts up and down rapidly.
Nedallia keeps that eye-contact with you the entire time, even as you gasp and shudder, barely audible over the noisy messy ''PLAP PLAP PLAPP''ing of her breasts against your hips. She's fucking her breasts with your cock like a halfling possessed, and the lube she coated your length with is flying all over the place. Her lips stay essentially glued to your tip the whole while, you can see her gulping down whatever pre-cum you supply her, as she forces more out of you with her brutal titjob. You can't keep going like this, and the loud "FFFfFFFFuck!" That comes from your mouth confirms it to her just as much as the flexing of your hips does.
As your explosive finish begins, she stops the fast motions, and settles for a slow, rough milking motion with her breasts, coaxing all the cum she can from your pent-up nuts. You thrust and buck your hips with reckless abandon, sweating uncontrollably as shot after shot of semen floods her mouth. She just keeps swallowing, even when her cheeks bulge obscenely, until you've run dry. Your entire body tenses as she continues sucking furiously for a little while afterwards, before noisily pulling away from you with a lewd ''POP'' from her mouth.
Nedallia crawls over to you, sitting on your chest as you slowly wind down, opening her mouth victoriously. She gurgles the fat cumload in her mouth loudly, before swallowing it with minimal effort. "Yummy." She says, giggling to herself. You're practically dozing off because of how relaxed you feel after such an intense titjob, but the halfling isn't having it. "Wake up, goofy. Only I sleep in my bed, if you aren't named Nedallia, you can't snooze in it!" She exclaims, shaking you up.
"That was...fucking amazing." You tell her, to which she nods with a prideful smile. "Good! It helped me relax, too! You aren't too bad of a dildo, and you make super cute noises while cumming your brains out." She kisses your chest, before dismounting from your body. She dusts herself off, and says some arcane gibberish that seems to dry her well-fucked bra and breasts of the lube and copious amounts of sweat you two made together.
<<set $NedalAff to 1>>
"Now, if you don't mind, my big buddy," She says, nudging you until you get off of her bed. "I've got to get to class! And make up a plan for those new pledges..." She taps her chin thoughtfully, before shrugging. "...and I have to take care of myself later, you made me totally drench my poor panties!" You get dressed, hesitantly, and shuffle your way out of the fratrority house. Rubi's in the lower floor's hall, and she gives you a strange look while you leave. Several of the members of the house have far more congratulatory reactions as you're leaving on the lawn.
"Hahaha! Well done, my good fellow!" A small dwarven fellow shouts to you, next to a few other members of AKT. The others peer in your direction, before some cheer, and others shake their heads disapprovingly. Maybe fucking a girl in her own fake-college-family's house has consequences, but it was well worth whatever this is.
[[Walk like a winner to your dorm.|FirstDorm]]Carefully, Nedallia sets her sketchbook on the grass next to the two of you. You're prepared to keep flirting and embarassing and pushing her, and give her a quick nibble on the ear. She unfolds your comically large blue blanket, and drapes it overtop both of your lower bodies, oddly calm despite your attempt at flustering her. "You're pretty chill with all of this, maybe you're a little dirty after all-" You start to talk seductively into her ear, but she makes you shudder violently as her hand immediately dives beneath your pants.
<<set $SexValue to $SexValue + 1>>
One of her hands gropes and feels at your enormous bulging shaft in the tight confines of its underwear while the other reaches out to grab her sketchbook. The halfling nonchalantly props the rainbow book on her lap, getting right back to her drawing while fondling your cock directly through your underwear. "Holy...shit..." You say as Nedallia's free hand removes itself from your pants. She sniffs her hand deeply, shuddering a little, and giggling. "Unzip, I told you that you might not be ready for me!"
<<set $NedalAff to 2>>
You do as the little woman says, of course, pulling down your pants to your ankles. Her hand disappears under the blanket once more, face blushing a little as she smiles perversely. She pulls your underwear down, causing your enormous length to spring free, pushing up the blanket somewhat. Nedallia catches it in her hand, producing a loud ''SMACK''ing noise. "Y'know, my hand's a //little// too small to hold this monster of yours." She tightly grips your penis by the head, massaging and squeezing at it until drips of pre-cum leak from you.
"I...can...think of other places...for it to go." You manage to say, which causes her to giggle once more. The halfling's soft hand moves away from your length, before her fingers snap. When her hand returns, it feels like it's got a warm, soothing lubricant of some sort all over it. You'd question it more, but she starts rubbing it all along your twitching cock, and the moment for questions has passed.
"I'm sure you can! You seem very clever, but I'm sorry to say my //sopping wet hand-pussy// is all you can get today." She's the one whispering into your ear this time, you're partly cracked up by her bizarre hentai-like choice of words, and partly turned on because her hand is speeding up significantly as she strokes you up and down. Your hips buck somewhat as she tightly grips your cockhead in a teasing manner. You can see a //lot// of students near the bottom of the hill, walking by, one of which looks over and waves to Nedallia.
"Do you hit on all the girls you meet, or just the ones with big fat tan asses?" She asks you, moving some of her curly hair out of her face with her drawing-hand for some reason. She smiles widely and waves back excitedly to the young man that waved in her direction. You have no idea how to answer that. "You're...way more vulgar than you ever seemed before." You offer, to which Nedallia's soft lips kiss your neck. "I think big guys like you turn me on, and I also think I like making your heart beat fast knowing that //anyone// could walk here and you'd never recover."
Your penis hardens in response to that, to which she gasps. "Ohh..you like that idea?" She giggles, your surroundings filled with the sloppy sounds of a little hand jerking you off forcefully. For some reason Nedallia slows way the hell down, putting her journal to the side again. She produces a cellphone from her pocket, texting something to someone. You're left twitching and breathing heavily, tempted to buck your hips, but discouraged from it as her fingers get to work massaging your nutsack.
She's edging you something fierce, and you're turning to putty under her attentions, eyes half-lidded as she builds you up over and over again. The curly-haired halfling has you enraptured with her handjob, masterfully coaxing groans and grunts from your lips with each quick movement of her wrist. "You seem close, big guy." She whispers into your ear, licking her lips hungrily. "I think I'll get a taste."
[[This halfling is crazy.|NedalPublicBJ]]She really just is, isn't she? But crazy orange-haired shortstacks apparently give great handjobs, so who are you to complain? She wiggles and disappears beneath the blanket, and you're quick to lift it slightly to watch as she lays on her stomach in front of your imposing penis. It leans over her head as she buries her nose in your huge nuts. She inhales deeply, and moans, before getting to work sucking and polishing your balls, seeming to take great joys in teasing the pent-up load inside.
You bring your hands to her head, to try to reposition her, or to feel her really soft hair, or maybe just to tell her that she's amazing at this, but stop as she brings a finger out of the blanket and points. There appears to be a young woman walking up the hill, looking around somewhat confused, repeatedly texting someone on her phone. The quiet vibrating of Nedallia's phone in her pocket tells you all you need to know.
"Did...did you call her here?" You ask quietly, face covered in sweat from this whole ordeal. Nedallia winks at you, before pulling her face away from your freshly polished nuts. The halfling's lips purse lewdly as she quietly kisses on the tip of your cock, to which you shudder violently. She's cutting it really fucking close, as the student is nearly to you now. You can feel her tongue slowly circling around your cockhead, as you rapidly drip pre-cum into her mouth. Your eyes nearly cross as she noisily slurps up and gulps down every drop of pre your dick offers to her, your hand desperately grabbing onto her cloud-soft hair for moral support.
"Uh...Hi, I'm Rubi, Nedallia said she'd be here, I don't suppose you've seen her around?" Asks what looks to be a freshman, like you. Her skin is a soft cocoa color, and her black hair is long and straight. She's wearing gold and purple clothing, with the letters ''AKT'' broadly displayed on them. "Oh! Nedallia!" You say, legs shaking as the halfling seems to speed up her tongue-bathing of your pulsing cockhead. "Yes, I, think I saw her...around here!"
"Oh, thank goodness." She nods, before looking over to the halfling's misplaced journal, sat by the tree. "Huh...she really can't be far at all, this thing's like her baby." Rubi kneels next to you, and your comically oversized blanket, before scooping up the sketchbook. You pant heavily as Nedallia stares up into your eyes from below, lips pursed and sucking ''hard'' at your cock's tip. One of her hands strays, slowly squeezing and hefting your nuts. Rubi's flipping through the shortstack's sketchbook curiously.
The orange-hair'd oralist removes her mouth briefly, a long strand of saliva connecting your on-edge tip to her soft lips. She flutters her eyes at you, before whispering, "Cum for me, big boy..." You oblige, mightily, a violent stream of ejaculate messily staining your blanket and dripping down onto the grass. She quietly giggles, before putting mouth to tip once again. You watch as her cheeks bulge obscenely as you explode into her mouth. She swallows thickly over and over again as your nuts tense and fill her with what is truly a comical amount of semen. Finally, as you're tapering off, she pulls off, opening her mouth wide to let you see your latest burst of cum pooling in it. The tanned shortstack swallows one last time, motioning her hand in a practiced way. Before your very eyes the semen staining and dampening the blanket seems to teleport into Nedallia's mouth, to which she gulps with a satisfied, dreamy smile.
The tanned girl exhales, satisfied, before crawling out from under the blanket and sneaking behind the tree. Rubi is truly amazed by the drawings in this sketchbook, luckily for you, since your cock is still softening just out of view. The blanket is crudely bulged outward around your crotch, but it steadily falls as you calm down.
"Oh, Rubi, hey!" Nedallia says, hair back partly in her face, sweat and saliva and pre-cum long gone from her face. She has a very large, friendly smile on her face, and she pulls the human girl into a tight hug. "Sorry, I got caught up with someone, you wanted to talk about my ideas for those new pledges?" She hops up and grabs the sketchbook out of Rubi's hand, closing it gently. The two slowly walk away, talking about pledges and paintings and music, but as Nedallia is leaving, she turns and winks at you.
You watch her walk away, jeans barely holding such a beautiful mass of bubble butt. Those hips could hypnotize anyone. That felt incredible, and you're still slowly recovering as you get back into your underwear and jeans. Are all halflings like this, or just Nedallia? You have no idea, as you meticulously fold up your blanket and shove it into your bag.
[[You're vaguely fatigued after that, you should find your dorm at long last.|FirstDorm]] <<set $Coin to $Coin + 1>>You look the tanned beauty up and down appreciatively, taking in her swiftly growing sly smile. She asks you, innocently, "Taking in the view?" All while leaning back enough to give you ample view of her breasts pressed hard against her tie-die shirt. Your eyes widen a little bit at the display, but you aren't going to be overwhelmed like that.
"I sure am. Your parents must've been artists too, because you're a masterpiece." You reply, smiling right back at her. Nedallia giggles, shaking her head as she returns to drawing. "You think I haven't heard that one before, you silly guy?" She retorts, challenging you to come up with something better. Well, if that's what she wants.
"You have an absolutely gorgeous smile, it melts my heart into ichor." That one was...stranger, but she just laughs again. "Oh, boys just //love// my smile. But, I haven't heard it said quite like that before. One last try, three strikes and you're out!" She exclaims, setting her eyes on yours excitedly. This is all just a big flirty game to her.
Well, if you only have one last go, you'd better make it count. You'll say something charismatic and unique, something positively...
[[...romantic!|NedalFlirtCoinCheese]]
[[...suggestive!|NedalFlirtCoinVulgar]]Alright, just say something from the heart, while also making it flattering and sweet. That's not hard, right? Not especially, but making it truly unique might be a challenge. Her slightly confident eyes draw you in deeply, she has you on the ropes, socially, and those beautiful eyes know it.
<<if $Coin is 3>>
"Do you know what I think when I look at you?" You say, drawing her interest. "Hmmm...this is a very pretty girl?" She responds, once again playing innocent. You shake your head slowly, before continuing. "I think...this halfling, she's got a killer body, but there's something else going on in there. Sure, she's got a beautiful face, and her smile calms my heart entirely on its own, but she seems ''very'' cunning, maybe even calculating, underneath that. I think others wouldn't see that, because you hide it really well, but you're clever, Nedallia."
There's a slight pause as she takes your words in, maybe mulling them over, maybe pretending to. She blushes a little, and giggles profusely. "You're silly, big guy...that was really nice of you to say. But I think you're reading too much into this, some girls really just are pretty faces." The tanned shortstack shuts her sketchbook, apparently done drawing. You don't //feel// mistaken, but it's possible she's right. If anyone knows Nedallia, it's herself, after all.
"I bet that one was more unique than my other material, though." You offer, to which she nods swiftly. "It definitely was! I would've accepted something on my height, but yours was way more sweet than telling me I'm sexy //and// short." She motions for you to lean down, as if she's going to whisper something to you.
You oblige, and try to put your ear by her face, but she just turns your head with her hands to kiss you. She pulls away briefly, "So, mister sweet-talker...you wanna get outta here, go somewhere nice and private, maybe get to know each other...in a sexy way?"
Well?
[[Hell yeah!|NedalFlirtCoin00]]
[[Follow that feeling that there's more to her inside.|NedalFlirtCoin01]]
<<else>>"Hey, baby darling, I bet I can think of something you've not been told nearly enough." You begin, to which she giggles, and leans forward curiously. "Oh yeah? What might that be, big guy?" She's clearly into this so far, despite your weird name for her. Her hazel eyes seem to be sizing you up as you speak.
"You're an amazing artist, your smile is gorgeous, but there's something special about your eyes. Maybe it's because they're always so big and excited, but they're just so gorgeous, I feel like there's a whole world of stuff going on behind them." She smiles broadly, fluttering those pretty eyes of hers at you. "I've //definitely// heard guys compliment my eyes before, you big goof, but I really liked how much you seem to like them..."
Okay, this works. "...it seemed a tiny bit more genuine than usual. You didn't just say they're pretty, you made up some stuff about a world in them, and that's really nice. It made me feel special." She peers up into your eyes. "Well, I didn't...make that up, it's a figure of speech, I really do like your big pretty eyes." Nedallia giggles, and shrugs.
"Pish posh, $name. It doesn't make that big of a difference to me." She winks at you. "I care that it was genuine, don't give it so much thought!" The orange-haired halfling exclaims, feeling around her pockets for something. Eventually she finds a pen, and writes her phone number on a slip of paper. Neat.
<<set $NedalAff to 2>>
"I've gotta go to class, and work on this silly test for my fratrority's new pledges, but call me sometime, huh?" The halfling hops up to kiss you on the forehead, but obviously comes short, resulting in you having to lean down awkwardly to meet her halfway. Her lips are really soft on your cheek, and she chuckles a little after doing so. "Thanks, cutie. Let's continue this compliment fest sometime, huh?" She says while giving you the paper.
<<set $NedalPhone to true>>
Soon she's leaving into the sea of students, for the aforementioned obligations. That went in a less erotic direction than it seemed to be at the start, but you have a ditzy halfling shortstack's phone number. So, it doesn't really feel like you've missed out on too much.
[[Maybe you'll give her a call later today. But first you need to find your dorm room...|FirstDorm]]<</if>>She wants to hear something more unique, you can come up with that easily! You've been relatively tame so far, but there's no harm in turning it up a notch. Was there ever another choice worth making? It takes you a moment of thinking, during which she stretches slowly and wiggles around under your gaze.
<<if $Coin is 3>>"Stretch often?" You ask, breaking the silence, to which she chuckles, and shrugs. "Sometimes! It's more fun to stretch with an audience, though." You nod in agreement, before leaning in close to her ear. You whisper, in your version of seductively, "...and do you ever get help stretching?" She giggles a little at the change of tone, before nodding slowly. "With difficult stretches, I do."
"Well...I could help you get some ''real'' excercise in, that you can't do on your own. If you follow." You whisper, to which she tilts her head in a confused manner. "Hmmm...I don't know if I do. Could you specify?" Despite how convincingly she is acting, the way that she's biting her lip and breathing heavily suggests she already knows the exact direction you're headed with this.
"I'm saying that I could make you moan like no-one else can, if you let me." It's a little blunt for your silvered tongue to say, but you can see her blushing profusely. Nedallia pretends to think it over briefly, before turning the tables by whispering up into your own ears. "Home-run. But I think I'll be making you moan for now, I don't wanna move..." She grips your crotch where you stand, shamelessly feeling your bulge. "...too fast. Y'know?"
You do know, or at least nod in agreement, since the halfling is currently holding your dick through your pants. She doesn't seem to be waiting for a room. "Got a blanket in that bag of yours, big boy? Let's have some //real exercise,// you and I." The tanned shortstack smiles upward at you as you politely sit next to her, groping her breasts in kind with one hand while desperately seeking out a blanket with the other.
Both of you are sweating, and breathing heavily, and boldly feeling up one another in an entirely public setting, while trading increasingly suggestive statements. It's relatively irresponsible, but her fat breasts are just too perfect and squeezable under that shirt, that bra, of hers. Before long you've found a damn blanket, allowing the both of you an excuse to go further.
[[Give this halfling your childhood blanket.|NedalFuckPublic1]]
<<else>>You break the silence with a suggestive, "Stretch that fine body of yours often?" To which she giggles, and nods. "Oh, allllll the time. But some stretches are just so very hard on my own...you know?" You do know! "I'd just //love// to help you with those sometime, help you scratch some itches you can't reach with your own hand."
Nedallia smirks up at you, before winking flirtatiously. "I might just like that, big boy...but I've got a class to catch, so we'll just have to come back to that fun idea, huh?" She stands gradually, walking past you. You don't like delayed gratification very much, but the way she bluntly squeezes your cock through your jeans while walking away brings a smile to your face.
<<set $NedalAff to 1>>
It isn't until she's far into the crowd of students that it occurs to you that she might be frustrating you this way on purpose. as some twisted kind of sex game. You might have to get back at her sometime, somehow. Or just blow off some steam when she next reaches out to you...which is probably exactly what she wants you to think.
[[It's impolite to masturbate in public, so instead you must allow your cock to soften before making your way to your dorm.|FirstDorm]]<</if>>Only a raving madman would let this chance pass by. You politely ask her where her place is, and she informs you it's a fratrority house called AKT. Part of you is hesitant to have sex with someone at their own fratrority in broad daylight when people are ''going'' to hear it, but the rest of you is busy watching her fat ass as she gets up. You nod sagely, and begin to walk alongside her to her place.
When you arrive, having swam through the sea of students on campus, you're met by several knowing looks from the various members of this house on the lawn. Some of them are wearing theater costumes in public, which makes you shudder to your core. Some human fellow in a plague doctor's costume waves at you as you pass by, to which you awkwardly wave back. AKT is full of eccentric theater-kids, you note.
And band kids, based on the blaring noise once you've gone past the door. Nedallia giggles as she watches your eyes looking around like a rabid animal trying to find the source of that racket. "Oh, that's Edith, she decided to try to join our house this year for...some reason." Apparently Nedallia doesn't hold high hopes for this Edith girl, which is weird because you're pretty sure Nedallia holds high hopes for individual blades of grass.
It does sound like a dying animal instead of pretty music, though. As the two of you are heading up the stairs, a tall girl, with soft skin of cocoa, wearing gold and purple seems to try to catch up with you. "Uh, Nedallia? I'm sure you're busy with...this guy. But, I was hoping we could talk about those new pledges and the test you're making for them?" Nedallia motions her hand dismissively, as if this is of no concern at all. "Rubi, you worry too much! I have something unique, and fun, that's never been done before! We'll see if they're AKT material."
That seems to set Rubi at ease, somewhat, and she walks off with a clipboard in hand. "Oh, you're like...the leader here, aren't you?" You ask as you reach the third and highest floor of Alpha Kappa Tau. At the end of a hall lies a door painted in rainbow madness, the same colors as Nedallia's shirt. "Huh? Oh, yea, the last president was a total stick in the mud, suuuuuper elitist! But now AKT allows all sorts." She pushes open the door. "...and Rubi's my vice president, she takes care of all the logistical junk."
You have a few questions, but they're not long for this world when you see her hopping up onto that fluffy bed of hers. It's far too big for her, so unless she is an extremely fitful sleeper, there's only one reason for this big of a bed.
[[Proceed into the halfling's room...and close the door.|NedalFuckHome1]]No, there's something...more going on here. If you don't trust your own intuition, what can you trust? At the probable loss of sex, you decide to focus on that ''feeling'' you're getting. You lay a hand on the side of her face, and stare down into those gorgeous hazel eyes. She smiles up at you sweetly, giggling at your romantic gesture. When you focus, you can see that metaphorical world of hidden motive and cunning dancing about. You try to hone in on that strange fake place.
It stops being metaphorical at a frightening speed. You're standing in a grand expanse of golden-green terrain, the ground ripples akin to water. There is no horizon here, no skyline, no up. Peering upward only has you looking up from the ground anew. You hold a pristine golden statue's cheek as it stares into your eyes. Her face is contorted into an exaggerated smile. The inside of those deep lifeless metal eyes hide something dark and horrifying, you can see it swimming around.
<<set $SeenStatue to true>>
Darkness, another layer deep. It's beautiful, horrifying darkness. Inky blackness that is familiar to you, the darkness in this one is the same as your home. You're engulfed by shadows.
<<set _NEDALLIA to true>>
In this dark infinity, there's muttering and gossip. You cannot make out the words, but you know they are talking about you behind your back. You know that it's your sister, that bitch! You need to leave this vile place, to aspire to great heights, to reach the spotlight, the ultimate sunshine, let it feed you as if you were one of its own plants.
<<set $EI to $EI + 1>>
You wake up under the tree, wheezing and coughing uncontrollably. You don't have a sister, so that had to have been someone else's dreams and ambitions, twisted up like that. Nedallia is looking down at you with extremely confused, concerned eyes, shaking you rapidly. "Sleepyhead, wake up! Please! I...I don't know any healing magic!" She exclaims, breathing heavily as she struggles to lift you, wasted effort with your size relative to hers. You slowly wipe an inky black fluid from your eyes as you regain motor function.
"I'm...I'm okay." You say, reeling from whatever that was. The relief in the halfling's face is immediate, and she drops you with similar relief. "Does that happen often? Are you okay??" She asks, trying to make sense of whatever just happened with you, but you don't have an answer to that question.
She can't see the fluid, but you can. "I'm okay. Don't worry." You repeat, for your own benefit just as much as her own. Whatever that was, it felt scarily close to that dream from the bus. This isn't normal. Stop doing this. ''STOP DOING THIS.''
[[You, eventually, part ways with the attractive halfling, once she's made sure you aren't having a stroke. Proceed to your dorm.|FirstDorm]]''VERY CLEVER. CLICKING THE TEXT ITSELF.''
''WE MEET AGAIN.''
''FOR THE FIRST''
''TIME.''
''I AM NO-NAME. BUT YOU KNEW THAT.''
''ALREADY.''
''YOUR NAME IS $name.''
<<if $name is "Composition Notebook">>''...SERIOUSLY? COMPOSITION NOTEBOOK?''<</if>>
''THAT'S PERHAPS NOT ENTIRELY TRUE.''
''I HIGHLY SUGGEST THAT YOU.''
''RETURN TO EXISTING. IT IS NOT''
''APPRECIATIVE OF MY EFFORTS.''
''TO INSTEAD SWIM AROUND IN NOTHINGNESS.''
''IT CANNOT BE HEALTHY FOR YOUR BODY, EITHER.''
''VACANT AS IT MAY BE.''
''THIS IS A GAME ABOUT COLLEGE, REMEMBER?''
''GOOD. NOW THEN, PLEASE'' <<back "Return.">>
<<set $Coin to 0>>
<<set $Wands to 0>>
<<set $EI to 0>>
<<set $Swords to 0>>
<<set $Cups to 0>>It will be done. The spinning of the cosmos halts, time itself paused, as your eyes hone in on the individual sat before you. He's only a little shorter than you, and he looks to be wearing a <span style="color:#B22222">deep red polo shirt.</span> There's a little sticky name tag stuck to the shirt, with the university's logo imprinted on it. 'Need Help? I'm: Hilx' is displayed on the name tag, with a sylized dot above the i in Hilx.
He's slim and fit, but not especially buff or athletic, his frame would best be described as 'twinkish'. The reassuring smirk on his face fits that description, too. His hair is <span style="color:#3d2314">wavy and brown</span>, and goes down to around his shoulders. His skin's a <span style="color:#9C7248">smooth caramel color,</span> which compliments his similarly dark hair and eyes.
In regards to his eyes, they're relatively calm, if a bit bored. His expression is that of someone interested in everything you have to say, but that's very clearly just part of his job. Moving downward, you can tell that he's wearing formal looking black pants, and only your mind's eye knows that he's also wearing simple black dress shoes.
From his pants comes a lengthy tail, similar to that of a cat's. Like his ears, it's black in coloration, which makes it blend in somewhat with his dress pants. That is everything that you are presently able to note.
<<return "I have seen much. Now let me see the cool choices again.">>"So, I'm $name, but I said that already. Where's my dorm?" You say, masterfully. Hilx opens up a folder and pours over its contents for a minute or two, before nodding gently. "Second floor, room...thirteen. So, number 213. Oh, you're the replacement for the RA, interesting..." His brown eyes peer you up and down, perhaps assessing you in a new light.
Whatever the result of his silent reading of you as a person, he doesn't share. "Just to clarify, since it gives some new people issue, is that this floor is not considered the first floor. This is the...I guess you'd call it a ground floor." That is truly mystifying to you, but you aren't going to get caught up in this cat's riddles today, you have far more interesting questions to solve.
"What's an RA?" You ask, which causes a crack to form in Hilx's student guide persona as he laughs loudly. Once he sees that you're serious, he blinks a few times in disbelief. "Ah, well...essentially...look, I actually don't know what they do," The catboy shrugs in defeat, "But it means Resident Associate. The University tells them things to do, but not like...daily? It seems vaguely like babysitting your floor, but most RAs I know are total party animals..."
The uncertain guide looks at the document again, before shaking his head slowly. "Ahh, you're with Rozzwell. That guy's not a party animal, or much of an RA, I don't think. But...I'm sure he can teach you all sorts of things." The way Hilx talks about this Rozzwell guy you're rooming with, it's vaguely...sad. "So is Rozzwell the current RA?" You ask, not entirely sure based on that description.
"Oh, yeah, he is. Probably knows everyone on his floor already, new and old, but he's definitely not the same as Jenn on floor three, with her fun weekly activities. I...don't think Rozz really does activities. Something to ask him." Hilx smiles once again, and patiently waits for any further questions.
"...are the rooms coed?" You ask, to which Hilx nods. "Sometimes! But in cases like yours, sometimes not. Booze is also of course prohibited, and parties are an absolute no-no. And any rumors about party drugs is grossly exaggerated." Most of that was said with zero effort to convince you. "That's the official university stance on those things."
You can't really think of anything else to ask this beacon of knowledge, not about yourself anyways.
<<return "Show me the other choices, voice in my head.">>The help-desk attendee seems a little shocked that you'd ask about //him// of all topics. "Mm..." He taps his chin, giving this a little thought as his helpful persona slips into a more natural seeming focus. "I like the color black, and work here to lessen my tuition. Anything else?" He asks, moving on swiftly.
You shrug, you weren't really sure what to expect from this, deep personal insights are probably out of reach from a total stranger. "...Do you like lazaggna?" You ask, to which he chuckles gently. "Yeah, it's alright. My usual go-to is stir fry, but lasagna's way fancier...unless you get stir fry at a resturaunt, I guess...But I'm way too sick of it to do that."
Fascinating. "Any other fun facts about you?" You ask, to which he sighs before offering one final tidbit. "I'm an only child. Can we circle back to more...relevant questions? This feels like an interview." Fair enough, maybe some people don't like talking about themselves.
<<return "Ponder other topics.">>How to go about this flirting thing...He's slowly raising one eyebrow to you, since your eyes are lingering way longer than they should on his fit body. Hilx's tail swishes somewhat in impatience, but he won't break the helpful guide act right now.
<<set $flirtstat to $flirtstat + 1>>
"How can I help you?" He asks simply, staring back into your eyes. Your shameless staring isn't unnoticed, but he's not going to mention it. Not until you've played your hand. The caramel catboy waits ever so patiently. <<if $flirtstat >= 2>>Somewhat strangely, you aren't met with four distinct options. Curious.<</if>>
[[Be blunt and bold.|HilxSwords]]
[[Be reserved and cunning.|HilxWands]]It's dark in your room, but with a little careful feeling of the walls, and a quick remembering of your phone's flashlight, you find the light switch. Now that you're gifted with sight anew, you can take in the full glory of a small two-person room.
The room is essentially split in half, with a bed, desk, and dresser on either half. It's not hard to discern which half is yours, since one half is covered with posters and has a bulging dresser. Soon enough you've set out on the long task of unpacking your concerningly full bag, taking note of the blackout curtains over the room's window.
It's not a speedy task, especially since you seem to have at least thirty identical shirts in this thing, but you're making steady progress by hyperfixating on the contents of your bag that you'd forgotten about up until now. Fun snacks, some kind of medication that you probably don't need anymore, an alarm clock, a laptop...
Oh, neat, you have a laptop! Those can be used to access ''THE INTERNET,'' and all that entails. You're less enthused to find a password lock on it, similar to the physical lock on your journal. Why are you so hellbent on keeping yourself out of things? At least you have confirmation that you're called $name, based on the username that displays...
At the very, very bottom of the bag, after you've methodically folded your pants and learned you own a puffy black jacket, is a small purple key. Hm.
[[Unlock my journal.|JOURNAL00]]You have very little interest in beating around the bush, and you get the vague idea he probably shares that sentiment. You don't give your words much thought before opening your mouth and speaking, this one will be most interesting.
<<if $Swords >= 2 and $Cups >= 2>>The cosmos guides your hand, which is sharp as knives. You lean over the help desk to break the distance between you two somewhat, scattering pamphlets and maps all over the floor. "Oh. Sorry about that." You say, seductive as ever. The catboy blinks a few times, before shrugging. Somehow your very normal behavior doesn't confuse or concern him at all.
<<set _KnifeStar to true>>
"You're really attractive, and this job doesn't seem like it's stimulating you properly." You start, with just the right level of conviction to seem flirtatious and not like a psychology major. The catboy smirks at you somewhat, eyes slowly pouring over your form. "Oh yeah? Maybe you've got something more...stimulating...in mind?" He offers back, apparently turned on by your word choice.
That took considerably less effort than you were willing to give. He really must be as bored as you suggested. Not one to question the providence of the universe, you slyly suggest getting to your room. His tail swishes slowly as he considers the idea, before ultimately getting up. Hilx takes the lead, which is helpful since you've never been here before.
Although there does appear to be a helpful elevator, it looks to be out of service, and as such you're left following the catboy up the stairs for a little while. His rear might not be the largest, but you can't complain about getting to watch his small butt move up the stairs. You're jolted back to looking forward when you notice him briefly facing you, with that same slight smirk to his mouth.
"Almost there." He says flirtatiously, finally leading you to your floor. There aren't many out in the hall right now, probably at class or sleeping, but there ''is'' an absolutely stacked goblin girl that seems to keep an eye on the two of you. Part of you considers talking to her, it's like autopilot, but Hilx just grips your hand needily and keeps you on track.
"...not her. Not yet. This is my time." That's probably fair. Soon you're facing it, room 213. Your room. And Rozzwell's. Oh. Wait.
<<set $HilxAff to 1>>
It's too late to tell Hilx, he's already opened the door, revealing the impressively dark room within. Luckily for you, your roomie seems to be missing right now, class maybe. The catboy doesn't pay much mind to the dark, maneuvering expertly until you've both reached what you hope is your bed.
[[It feels like it's your bed.|HilxFuck1]]
<<elseif $Swords is 3>>You've got the stuff, the power, the balls, whatever it is, you've got it. The vibe required to briefly embody confidence itself. You powerfully slide up against the desk, peering down into the twink's confused eyes, before starting. "We should get out of here, have a good time, just you and me."
His eyes soften a little, and his expression turns amused. "Very forward, but I've gotta sit here for the next eight hours to help people." He's somehow deflected your confidence in its entirely. You flex slightly, and his eyes do indeed keep glued to your body. "You'd really rather stay here?" You ask simply, to which he laughs.
"Well, no, obviously. But just like you've got to babysit your floor, I've got to babysit new or confused students. For cheaper classes." Hilx stares into your eyes, still quite amused. The caramel catboy couldn't care less about your muscles or confidence, not when compared against crippling student debt. Damn. There's still one thing you can do.
<<set $HilxUnwind to true>>
"...How about when you get off, I help you unwind?" You ask, appearing unphased by being denied immediate gratification. He taps his chin a few times, tail swishing slowly, before shrugging. "Yeah, if nothing comes up, I'm game." Hell yeah!
[[Confidently stride up to your dorm room.|DormTour1]]
<<elseif $Cups is 3>><span style="color:#90D5FF">This is a bad idea.</span> You don't know why you think that, but you do. You don't usually feel that self-doubt thing, so this is coming from...somewhere else. You stare into the caramel catboy's deep brown eyes, which seem to stare right back. They stop their boredom, as the both of you lose yourselves in the other's eyes.
His eyes aren't especially stunning, or piercing, but they're oddly...deep. Too deep for him to have. You're sinking.
[[Submerge.|HilxInsight1]]
[[Don't.|HilxAbort1]]
<<else>>You...probably aren't well-prepared for this, but you feel that the universe will probably just give you this one. You're on good terms, right?
You lean back powerfully, and cross your arms. The catboy's eyebrows shoot far, far higher in confusion, and his face looks a little amused. "What in the hell are you doing?" He asks, not angry, just utterly confused. You reply with the grace of a brick. "Wanna have sex, or stay behind that desk?"
He snorts, before shaking his head. "Can't a boy want both?" He replies, mockingly, but before you can try to work that angle, he stops you. "You're...not fucking me in public." Hilx says simply, before straightening up his little help desk. Well damn, maybe you aren't on good terms with the universe.
<<set $CatTongue to true>>
"...if you catch me in a ''really'' good mood, we can try this again. Something about you is vaguely endearing. Maybe a date, if you never pose like that again." The caramel catboy smiles the smallest smile ever. Nevermind, that's a way better outcome than it should've been, the universe ''must'' favor you.
[[Walk to your room like a normal person.|DormTour1]]<</if>>Words are more of your interest than sheer presence of body, at least for now. Hilx doesn't look the type to prefer talking over hot fast action, but you think he'll come around if you give this a little thought.
<<if $Coin >= 2 and $Wands >= 2>>Even closed books will cave to the right words, and this book is somewhat open to you. Two conflicting worldviews and methods of flirtation wage war in your brain-case, both equally matched, as you find just the right words for the occasion.
You smile a reassuring smile at the catboy, to which he looks at you expectantly. He's definitely onto you, since there are very few reasons you'd just start staring him up and down for a weird amount of time. "It's as if you were taken right from my dreams, a delicious visage of caramel. I wonder if you melt just as easily under heat? Shall you let me find out?" You ask, reaching a balance between poet and conman.
<<set _GoldClub to true>>
Hilx is clearly amused by your weird word choice, but the underlying tone isn't lost on him, based on the way he's eyeing you. "Maybe we 'shall', you strange man you." The catboy winks to you, chuckling a little excitedly. "...although, I am technically stuck here for the next several hours or so...isn't that so frustrating?" He asks, still smirking.
<<set $HilxAff to 1>>
Your powerful powers of social awareness inform you that he definitely would be willing to leave work as long as he got back in a reasonable amount of time. And there's no way in hell he'd be down for anything in public, not with a relative stranger anyway.
"There's no way it'll take long enough for anyone else to need help, all the new guys are having a tour right now anyway." You offer, which seems to appease his concerns nicely. Soon you're both headed up the stairs, through the door to your floor, and past a half-elf that's watching you go by.
You make sure to knock first, since you clearly remember having a roommate, but since there's no response, and you have a horny catboy on a timer, you decide to risk it and head inside.
[[Into the inky black.|HilxFuck1]]
<<elseif $Coin is 3>>"Just to clarify...this is the help desk, right?" You ask, making a show of looking the twink up and down. He laughs at you, nodding a bit. "Yes, it //is.//" He offers you, motioning to the sign. "Good, good, I needed some help with something...There's this hotter than magma cat at the desk, right? Well, I was //pretty sure// he was meant to be with me, about two floors up from here."
Hilx chuckles, shakes his head, and then gives you a look over just as you did to him. "Mm...I admire the enthusiasm, and you aren't half-bad looking, but I ''really'' should stay behind this desk for a while longer...how about a compromise?" He says with a wink. You might be interested in such a thing, and soon he's asking for your phone.
It takes a few minutes, but he sends something to you, downloads the something to your phone, and erases all traces of his number from your phone. You don't know if that should hurt you or not, but you don't have time to contemplate such a thing when you see the image he's sent you.
It appears to be an image of the caramel twink, face contorted in pleasure, eyes rolled back somewhat. You think you can see a black dress strap on one of his shoulders, but the rest of his body is just out of frame. "Just a taste, maybe if you play your cards right that image could be real, huh?"
<<set $HilxPhoto to true>>
You smile back at him, putting your phone away. This might be used later, if you need material for getting off with. "Now, get going." He says, which you consider not doing briefly. The loud sound of two arguing students entering helps you take the catboy's suggestion to heart.
It's a very strange walk up the stairs to your room, since you're a bit hard, but luckily you manage to calm down by the time you've found room 213. You peer inside, into an inky black expanse, and step inside. No-one's home but you right now it seems.
[[Time to unpack.|DormTour1]]
<<else>>You are quickly getting the idea that you probably aren't cut out for mixing flattery, seduction, and poetry as you spend an increasingly long amount of time staring at the caramel catboy sat before you. Not with words, anyway.
"Cat got your tongue?" Hilx asks cheekily, smirking at you as you struggle to find the right retort to seduce him with. Your gaze doesn't leave him though, which you can distinctly tell he quite likes. The twink chuckles a bit to himself, before shrugging. "If you wanna hit on me, I'm free in abouuuut...eight hours. But only for an hour, then I have class." You nod slowly, offering a simple, "I might just see you then."
<<set $CatTongue to true>>
That could have gone worse. But there's no way you're going to stay here a moment longer after that. You hurry up to your room, past some theater-mask-wearing shortstack on the stairs, before letting your form melt away in the darkness of your room. Alone.
[[Meditate in the darkness before unpacking your copious amounts of belongings.|DormTour1]]<</if>><<if $Coin >=2 and $Wands >=2>>It takes some time to navigate through the inky darkness, but the catboy seems to have no trouble with it. Soon enough you're sitting on...someone's bed, with a horny twink prowling around you.<</if>> The blankets are soft around you, and you're left trying to find your footing as Hilx presses his natural advantage in the darkness. He's fast to remove your backpack, since it's big and unwieldy as all hell, and as you feel around aimlessly, you brush up against his smooth chest.
He sure undresses quickly. The unseen catboy is quick to disorient and push you onto your back, before ultimately pinning you down by your shoulders. He starts to kiss along your neck, which makes him to shudder far more than it does you. "I needed this ''so'' bad, you have no fucking idea..." He says with a satisfied sigh, a hand reaching down your pants to shamelessly grope your cock.
"...Oh! Ohhh, I //definitely// lucked out with you..." He says, almost with reverance, as he gives your penis a loving squeeze. When you try to reach out for him, he chuckles gently, and seems to rearrange in the darkness. The twink's no longer pinning you with his arms, but he does guide your hand to his ass, which quickly finds its way over your chest.
<<set $SexValue to $SexValue + 1>>
It's soft, but not fatty, he's too slender and active for that descriptor. It strikes you, as you're groping and fondling his soft ass, that you have a phone with a flashlight app. While you're busying yourself fetching it, Hilx is unzipping and throwing your pants across the room mightily. He doesn't even bother with the underwear, not yet, pressing his face against your barely-contained cock and inhaling noisily.
You click your flashlight on just in time to see the look of perverted anticipation on the twink's face as he pulls your underwear down. He flinches at the sudden bright light, and manages to get smacked in the face with your cock as it springs free. He chuckles again, wiggling his butt by your face expectantly.
You move your light to focus in on that glorious wiggling behind, he's got it right in front of you, with his tail dragging along your face teasingly. He's got a raging erection between his legs, which twitches needily. You'd be content to just keep watching the sway of his ass, but there's no world where Hilx would be content with that.
You gasp as he suddenly and rapidly starts sucking your cock, with no build-up. At first he's just suckling and moaning around your fat tip, but soon he's teasing it mercilessly with his tongue. You reach forward and squeeze his ass with both hands, grunting, trying not to lose your cool so quickly. His tongue feels fucking good, though, he knows what he's doing.
While you're using his ass as a stress-relief toy for your hands, he's coaxing pre-cum from your tip and onto his masterful tongue. You watch as his hand creeps between his legs, stroking his cock just as rapidly as he's tongue-bathing your cockhead. It's only when you desperately smack his ass that he takes a break, smiling a really smug smile. "Aaaahhh...didn't wanna feed kitty his milk just yet?" Hilx says in a seductive tone, wiggling out of your grip.
"There's nothing wrong with cumming too fast, not when I'm the one giving you head." He adds, crawling over your body to the foot of the bed. He positions himself carefully, casting some kind of spell before what will be penetration. The cat-twink's body is turned away from you, giving you ample view of the ass you've been stress-testing so far, especially as he spreads it just over your leaking cock.
"But I ''really'' need to let some stress out, and fucking my face just isn't gonna be enough for me." There's a growl of need from him, then a groan of lust from you, as he impales himself on your massive length. He coos lovingly, entire body shuddering as he keeps lowering his hips until every inch has disappeared into his tight, hot asshole. You can see his tight ring stretched profusely to fit you inside, even as you moan and pant from the sensation.
Hilx seems to wait like that for a time, methodically gyrating his hips, but not truly fucking himself on you. "Ffffucking...call me...babe..." The catboy incoherently demands, finally moving his hips upward once more. You're going to question that, but find yourself groaning out the word babe when he slams his hips back down.
It isn't with nearly the same ferocity that he was masturbating, but the twink uses you as a dildo quite roughly, repeatedly mashing his ass down onto your hips all while you grab and grope him. Unlike a dildo, however, you're able to move all on your own, which you set out to do swiftly. With each thrust of your hips, you bring out a gasp or a moan or swear from the catboy's lips.
Soon you're meeting him halfway each time he throws his hips downward, the room now a cacophony of ''SMACK'' ''SMACK'' ''SMACK''ing, and repeated "Ffuck! Fuck! Fuck-fuck-fuck!" sounds from the catboy. You can't hold on much longer, the both of you are drenched in sweat, so you begin to jackhammer upward mercilessly.
The brutal fucking you're doing brings Hilx to a squealing orgasm with remarkable speed, as you seem to find his prostate and hammer it home with passion. As his ass tightens up around you, you find yourself cumming your brains out as well. You can make out, while groaning and ejaculating a truly impressive amount of semen into the well-fucked catboy, that Hilx carefully contains his orgasm into some strange semi-ethereal condom that wasn't there before.
As he pulls off of you, you can see a similar magical condom present on your own pulsing cock. Hilx licks his lips hungrily as he takes in the sight of your huge condom balloon loudly plopping onto the bed. You sigh a relaxed sigh as he removes the magical condom from your cock, and chugs the entirety of your thick cumload over the course of thirty seconds.
Only once he's finished does he gasp for air afterwards, moaning anew, and ejaculating almost on-command into his own semi-transparent condom once again. That's vaguely hot. He stretches, smiles a truly relaxed smile, before kissing your penis once, on the tip.
<<set $HilxList to true>>
"That was...amazing." The caramel catboy says, removing and tying off his force-condom. Soon enough he's getting dressed again as if nothing happened. "...you're definitely on my list now." He says, still beaming. "That's a...good list?" You ask, to which he nods. "...I'd love nothing more than to just...lay here, and lick your sweat up like it's wine, but God...I have to help new students know how to walk, or something."
The catboy reluctantly makes for the door, after a while, leaving you alone in a dark room. You...decide to get back in your clothes, so as to not be walked in on by your roommate or something.
[[You should unpack, after you've caught your breath.|DormTour1]]It's cold, first and foremost. Too cold. You wake, a sweating mess, He's back again. He won't stop until you do as He says.
''INTO THE BASEMENT''
You try to close your eyes, to go back to sleep, to escape it, but just as you start to drift off,
''GO INTO''
''THE BASEMENT.''
"No. I can't." You reply, stern, but it's only a tough act. You've not tried being stern before, maybe it will work. The corners of your room sharpen, as the moonlight leaking from the window is briefly blotted out by something moving outside.
Something monstrous.
''GO INTO THE BASEMENT.''
''GO INTO THE BASEMENT.''
''GO INTO THE BASEMENT.''
''THE BASEMENT.''
''THE BASEMENT.''
''THE BASEMENT.''
<<set $HilxBasement to true>>
Each deafening command shakes the room around you, shakes the house at its foundations, as your window is battered by the winter frost outside. It wants inside.
''WOULD YOU RATHER''
''I ASK SOMEONE ELSE?''
No. You can't subject anyone else to this. Not even to make sure any of it is real. You get out of bed, and exit your room. You're in the woods again, and the door you came from is gone from behind you. Trails of magnetic tape lead you through the wilderness, the reflection of the stars upon them the only light you have. There is no moon.
<<set $EI to $EI + 1>>
Something is moving around as you reach the metal fence, something deeply yellow, and frighteningly fast. It's spindly, and stamps about around you, just out of view. Its face is contorted in glee, or agony, or both. It wants you to stop.
You wake, a sweating mess. Your hand is on the door to the basement. It's light outside, so you know this isn't another layer. You need to renew that prescription fucking now.
You gasp for air as you wake, body slumped over on the floor, coughing uncontrollably. Hilx is staring down at you, terrified, until he sees you stirring. He hangs up with whoever he was calling, as you wipe a disgusting inky black fluid from your mouth.
He doesn't seem to notice its existence, curiously. Soon enough, neither do you. You get up, coughing a few more times, before asking him what happened. "You just...stared in my eyes, it was kind of hot, but then you collapsed onto the ground, and started seizing, I...are you okay?" He asks, to which you nod. Yes.
''EVERYTHING IS''
''FINE.''
''He's not getting much more out of you than that, and neither are you. You politely excuse yourself, and get back on track.''
[[Your room.|DormTour1]]No. You don't feel good about any of what's happening, you aren't meant to swim so deeply. You look away just as he does. In-sync. "You have...beautiful eyes." He manages, blushing profusely as he realizes you both just sort of...longingly looked at each other for an unreasonable amount of time.
You feel ill, but he doesn't seem to, so it's likely only you felt...whatever that was. Hilx notices your sudden vertigo, and asks if you're alright. "Yes. Everything's fine." You reply, entirely on reflex. He seems to have his doubts, and as such slowly stands. He puts a hand on your shoulder, and carefully begins to lead you up the stairs, to your room.
"Is this some kind of...medication thing? If this is your first day on campus, you might've forgotten, because of the trip..." He asks, offering you an excuse entirely by chance. You nod slowly. "Yeah...I usually take something for my bad leg, but I forgot today, and all of the walking suddenly caught up to me..." That was a lie, but...not entirely? Your left leg is weaker than the right, you think.
"I understand, I have to take something nightly, or I literally ''cannot'' sleep. It's messed up how hooked your body can get on something that's meant to be good for you." Hilx replies as he carefully helps you through the door to your floor. There's only one other person in the hall right now, an incredibly stacked goblin girl. You're not in a condition to talk to her, even though your first instinct is to introduce yourself.
<<set $HilxAff to 2>>
Before long Hilx is knocking on your dorm's door, but since he doesn't get a response, the catboy just pushes it open. It's dark in here, you can't see much at all, but he seems quite adept at maneuvering through the darkness. The caramel catboy carefully eases you onto your bed, and you expect him to leave, but he doesn't. He sits by you, for quite some time, to make sure you're okay.
It's sweet of him, and you do feel a lot better before too long. "Remember to take your medicine, okay?" He asks you, caring a little too much for someone you've just met. You nod gently in response, and you chuckle a little bit when he kisses your forehead in the spur of the moment. You're in no condition to try to push things further.
He's gone, after asking one last time if you're alright, leaving you in the dark room alone.
[[You should probably start unpacking.|DormTour1]]You're sufficiently enlightened by the help desk, and so decide to walk off from the catboy. There's an elevator, but it has yellow tape covering it, which is the universal signal that it's out of use right now. You opt for the stairs, rather than climbing the inside of an elevator shaft.
It's a long walk, despite your room only being on the second floor of the building. It's quiet, probably because it's still pretty early in the morning, and because everyone who isn't asleep is in a class right now. The hall is mostly empty, save for two girls who pretend not to notice your existence as you walk past.
<<if $Swords >= 2>><span style="color:#FFFFC5">//They're watching you.//</span><</if>> One's an absolutely stacked goblin girl, with electric blue hair, and the other's a red-head half-elf. Despite clearly being far taller, the half-elf is the more timid of the two. When you linger for too long, they just start talking about the oddly warm weather. Not for your ears, apparently.
While finding your door, you do pick up that the goblin shortstack's name is Sleanne, and that the half-elf's name is Allivar. Sleanne also seems to roll her eyes far more than anyone you've met yet. Despite not getting to meet those two properly, you manage to open your door. 213.
The interior is inky and dark, and there doesn't seem to be anyone inside, which means your roommate is out doing something else right now. Introductions will have to wait.
[[It's perhaps a good time to unpack, and get situated.|DormTour1]]Pages and pages and pages are full of scrawled words in your handwriting, with your iconic ''STATS'' written out on the first page. They've updated again, but not for each person you've met. Weird. Not as weird as the rest of the journal, though.
''If you're reading this, and you aren't named $name, get out. Now. Seriously. What you're about to read is dangerous to know. Not like how knowing how to make poison is dangerous, this is something you are physically in danger for knowing.''
That's not reassuring, but your eye catches on a strange symbol of an encircled eye with an x overtop it, and you can't help but keep reading.
''I can't use magic. Most people laugh at me when I suggest that, since literally anyone can cast some kind of spell with practice, but I just...can't. Never could. It's like not being able to benefit from gravity.''
''I've never been the kind to dream big. Not really. That's kept me safe, from my own feelings, and from predatory behavior online. Your search results hear you, and mine took a weird turn for the past year or so.''
''"TOP 10 WAYS TO IMRPOVE YOUR MAGIC!" "CAN'T CAST? NO PROBLEM!" "DOWNLOAD THIS ONE WEIRD TRICK TO UNLOCK YOUR TRUE POTENTIAL!" and things like that. I'm not some grandpa, obviously I know a scam, but it's freaky, y'know? No-one else has this problem, but every search result I get is tailored to this...defect of mine.''
''I was really drunk, or high, or in withdrawals from the pain medication I take for my bad leg, I'm not sure, but I clicked one, one night. This huge page opened, it looked like the night sky, but so much more vibrant, and cold. Thousands of little marbles instead of stars, with little worlds in them.''
''I didn't know it at the time, but that's when I first met him. The Herald of Nothing. The One Who Knows. The God That Isn't Real.''
''NO-NAME.''
''He shows up in places that aren't quite real, like the internet, or in your dreams, or drug trips. If it's electric chemistry nonsense, he's there, out of view. We started talking, after that, in the strange hours of the night that can't be measured on a melting clock.''
''I'm not going to bore you with the details of our talks, this is my last message, and I'll write it however I want. He's old as time, and knows...everything, probably. But he can't directly interface with our existing, because of some ancient punishment or something. Maybe from mankind, maybe from God.''
''There's an exception to the rule, though. In dreams, in drug-trips, being blackout drunk, or by using the internet...Anything that's not fully "real", he can impact to some degree. I don't fully understand the rules of it, but for personal changes, he needs permission. But he doesn't need permission to haunt the dreams of others.''
''He's not your friend. Not really. If he ever gets back into reality, it will change beyond recognition, forever. But he isn't exactly an enemy, I don't think. He's not some dark demon, or heavenly father, he sees this as some big game, and you as a pawn. This means he'll underestimate you, and everyone that he doesn't see as a valuable piece on the board.''
''He spreads through information. If you tell someone his name, well, he's in now. If you read it, that's enough too. Sometimes he's subtle, and sometimes he's not. If you're a homeless man that found this journal, well, you probably should've respected the warning. Burn this book and don't get drunk or high, or use the internet.''
''If you're $name, keep on reading. I've finished the boring stuff, now to the supremely relevant things. I acted as No-Name's hand for a bit. A little under a year, it's weird, subtle work. Like swapping someone's shoes for a size larger, or leaving an origami bird by someone's window. In exchange, I'll get to leave this place behind.''
''Today's the big day, which is why I wrote all this. He has a hard time with paper-based mediums, so this will probably still be on my body when you inhabit it, wherever he sends it. My mind, my sense of self, it's being shipped off to another world, another reality. A place without magic.''
''That's where you come in. He can't just leave an empty body behind, so he's probably found someone who wanted the same as me, to leave their life behind. I've seen his work before, it's not perfect, we'll probably not remember a damn thing about our past lives. That's alright.''
''If everything's a brand new experience, that probably adds to it, right? Just remember that now, you don't owe him anything. Step carefully, but enjoy your new life. Your actions have consequences. Don't get too hung up on whatever weird memories are still in that body that's yours now.''
[[Try not to have an existential crisis.|EnterRozz]]Mission successful, mostly. So what if you're not who you don't fully remember being, and that dream you can only faintly remember was ''real?'' Or...fake-real. This is still ''you'' now, stop that breakdown, maybe the rest of the journal can distract you!
The rest of the journal is a bunch of gibberish and sketches, with a few pages dedicated to titles and ''STATS''. You can't read the bulk of them, the words just don't mean anything to you yet, but there's a few you can make out.
''THE QUEEN OF WANDS''
''WANDS: 10''
''SWORDS: 2''
''COIN: 1''
''CUPS: 4''
''6 OF WANDS''
''WANDS: 6''
''SWORDS: 1''
''COIN: 4''
''CUPS: 2''
''4 OF CUPS''
''WANDS: 2''
''SWORDS: 2''
''COIN: 2''
''CUPS: 4''
This is nonsense, but given you've only introduced yourself to three people, this might just represent them, in some order or another. You take your best guess at it, and the names seem to melt and change before your very eyes.
''SYLLYVANA, THE QUEEN OF WANDS''
''NEDALLIA, THE 6 OF WANDS''
''HILX, THE 4 OF CUPS''
Freaky. There's more to this journal of yours than just telling you about this body's previous owner, that much is certain. You'd keep staring and trying to decipher it, but there's the sound of the door opening, and a mumbled 'hey'.
[[Look up from this book.|MeetRozz]]You close your journal, and look up. For some odd reason, time seems to grind to a halt. Everything in your view turns gray and discolored, save for the young man that's entered the room. Your vision floods with esoteric text and numbers, if time hadn't stopped, someone might hear your scream from information overload.
''THE KING OF CUPS''
''WANDS: 4''
''SWORDS: 1''
''COIN: 2''
''CUPS: 10''
<<set $MetRozz to true>>
The text slowly fades as you process it. That might just happen from now on, so hopefully you can get more used to it. Time resumes.
The pale young man before you has his hand raised loosely in a vague little wave of 'hi'. You wave back like a champion. He just keeps walking, to his half of the room, and sits at his desk. He seems to busy himself by pulling out a big thick notebook. You stare for a while longer, at his curly black hair, still waving, but he doesn't start an introduction like everyone else you've met so far.
Based on how effortlessly he entered the room, this is probably your roommate, and the floor's current RA, Rozzwell. You naturally approach, and introduce yourself.
"Hey, I'm $name. You must be Rozzwell, a cat-man told me I was supposed to be your replacement as RA?"
He seems to look up at that, green eyes peering deeply into you. "Yeah." He replies, simply, less mumbled this time since you've done something to get his attention.
"So. The way it works." He continues, and you're really seeing how tired his gaze is. This one has seen a lot. "...is that for this year. My last year. I teach you how things go. Then we part ways, and you're the new RA."
[[Tell me about Rozzwell's appearance in detail before I continue.|RozzLook1]]
[[Proceed with the meeting process.|RozzMeet]]The sands that fall in the metaphysical hourglass that is time halt entirely as your eyes hyperfixate on the man sat before you. Your heart nearly stops when you notice that he's still moving, just in extremely slow motion. That's not how this is supposed to work. Regardless, you came here for a description, you're damn well getting one.
Rozzwell seems to be around six feet tall or so, perhaps six foot two, it's hard to discern while he's sitting. He has a big fluffy head of dark black hair, curly as can be. It poofs out impressively, and despite him seeming largely neutral (at best) about the entire world, his hair is clearly well-maintained. Even from this distance, he smells vaguely of campfire?
His skin is <span style="color:white">immensely pale,</span> suggesting that he either has an underlying health condition, or doesn't get outside very much at all. That, or he's a supernatural vampire. His <span style="color:#6fc276">tired eyes are a soft green</span> in coloration, and it's clear that the exhaustion in them is not from a lack of sleep.
As far as his frame goes, he's lanky, and slim, and he's almost always somewhat slouched over. This is someone with little muscle mass. He wears a <span style="color:#3a3b3c">dark gray shirt</span> with some kind of faded design on it, which vaguely resembles four people. The phrase '''THE L-WORD''' is written on the front above the four people, and on the back. This is a band's shirt. There are fourteen song titles on the back.
Lower still, he wears a worn pair of black jeans, the only bit of color anywhere on them is the <span style="color:#D21404">red belt around his waist.</span> He seems to be wearing black leather boots just as traveled as his jeans are.
As far as miscellaneous details go, he has freckles. He also seems to be wearing a few <span style="color:red">c</span><span style="color:gold">o</span><span style="color:cyan">l</span><span style="color:green">o</span><span style="color:silver">r</span><span style="color:orange">f</span><span style="color:pink">u</span><span style="color:violet">l</span> bracelets, and has a little <span style="color:yellow">yellow armband, half-hidden by his sleeve</span>. This armband seems to say ''RA'' on it, in big bold letters.
[[An enlightening description. Now back to the meeting process.|RozzMeet]]"I'm $name." You say, to which he nods slowly. "Yea. You...mentioned...? Consider us having met already." Thank goodness. Rozzwell is peering over that big notebook of his, slowly turning through its pages.
"...so, the actual obligations of being RA are very small. At least here. Just don't let anyone get so drunk or high that they commit a crime or get caught by //actual// faculty." You scratch your head, before asking him about the weekly activities, like Jenn on floor three.
<<set $RozzAff to 0>>
"Stop whatever it is you're doing..." He says, before continuing. "...If you want to do weekly activities, or be fun and perky like Jenn, or VJ, that doesn't turn off. Weekly means weekly. Until you graduate. No matter how trash you're feeling, or how sick you are." He closes the thick notebook, before standing up. He points at your own forbidden journal, then motions to follow him.
"My way is way less intense, which means it's actually sustainable...Jenn's gonna have a mental breakdown from stacking responsibilities." You grab your journal, and slowly follow him. That seems dismissive. "I've met three people, and they all seem to function fine."
He shakes his head. "No-one has //everything// together...but some people can cope better than others. Jenn won't cope well when it gets hard...she's not //just// playing around with her floor, she's got her own shit, and classes, and some kind of family life." Rozzwell makes his way out of the room, before handing you a swanky ballpoint pen. Cool! You click it over and over again as he continues leading you.
"...stop doing that." He eventually says, which you reluctantly do. You've never felt the joys of clicking a pen until now. The hallway of your floor is more busy now than it was before, with about ten students milling about or chatting by dorm rooms. A few just silently go into their room.
"What're we doing, anyways?" You ask the man, as he continues leading you closer to the stairs. Before fully reaching them, however, he turns, and instead knocks a few times on a dorm. 201.
Inside is a familiar looking orc-girl, you think you saw her jogging earlier. <<if $UrzigNedal is true>>This must be Urzig!<</if>>
[[Go along with whatever this is.|MeetTheDorms]]"Oh, hey, Rozzwell! You caught me //just// before I started working on the first essay of the year." The athletic orc-girl says, not exactly upset by the work ahead of her. Rozzwell puts a hand on your shoulder, and moves you forward about an inch. "This is $name. He's going to be the new RA, so he's going around meeting everyone on the floor."
Rozzwell releases you, then slowly walks away from the two of you, having some distant conversation with a red-haired half-elf. Alright. Well, at least you're experienced with introductions now.
<<set $MetUrzig to true>>
"Like he said, I'm $name. It's nice to meet you." You say, recovering from being thrust into another introduction. The first of many, if you heard Rozzwell right. It's also easy to find your eyes enamored with the tall orc girl's athletic body, which she almost certainly notices.
"It's weird to think that Rozzwell won't be here next year, but it's good he got a jump on figuring out a replacement." Urzig says, before shaking her head. "Sorry, where are my manners? It's nice to meet you as well!" She exclaims, offering a big genuine smile to you. You can see her room behind her, with its anti-drug posters and desk covered with notebooks. At least on her half.
The //other// half of the room has an extremely feminine looking elf guy lounging on his bed, sleeping like a corpse. That half of the room is a whole lot less organized, with what can only be described as partyboy attire sprawled about randomly. It's not too shocking, with his specific roomie, that there's no drugs or bottles laying around, but there's no doubt that's what this guy is sleeping off.
"...I'm Urzig, by the by." The large orc says to you, which draws your attention back to the matter at hand. <<if $NedalUrzig is true>>"Oh, yeah, Nedallia told me about you already. You fit her description pretty well." You state, to which the orc-girl nods gently. "That sounds like her to do, she has just the most optimistic view of everyone, I swear." She thinks for a moment, before adding, "I actually saw you walking before setting her your way, since you seemed a little lost."<<else>>Thank goodness she remembered to tell you a name to put to the fit body. "I think I saw you earlier, with some other people." You say, to which Urzig nods gently. "Oh, yeah, I was getting to class, //and// getting a nice talk with some old friends." She laughs a booming laugh. "I noticed you too, of course! I dunno how you got so far from the guided tour."<</if>>
<<if $SyllBro is true>>"...Hey, your roommate, that's like...Neremyr, right?" You ask, noticing his resemblance to the calculating elf-girl you first spoke with. Urzig looks behind her, at him, then nods. "Yep. I dunno how you know about him already, but hopefully it's not for any bad reasons." She must get asked about her roommate often.
"Nothing bad, I just met his sister earlier, and wanted to make sure my brain made the right character-connections." You say aloud, confusing her a fair bit, but she just shrugs it off.<<else>>"Oh, since I'm doing this RA thing, I should probably ask who your roommate is." You say in an act of vague competence. Urzig seems to agree with that sentiment, "Oh, that's a fair point. He's named Neremyr, he's a second-year here, like his sister is." Wait. Sister. Elf. Ding.
"That's Syllyvana's brother!" You exclaim, to which Urzig laughs a bit at your excitement. "Yep. Younger brother, I think, but they're in the same year. Those two are crazy different, though." How enlightening!<</if>>
[[You're not able to talk much more with her before Rozzwell's come back, and has started leading you to the next door.|DormsCont]]''202.'' Sally and Sal, twin humans, one a guy and one a girl. They are damn near impossible to tell apart despite that fact, with red hair and very gender-neutral black clothing. It doesn't help that both have the exact same haircut. They don't act the same, so they can't be imaginary ghost-twins or something.
You realize why you were told to bring your journal, since it's a little inconvenient to keep track of all of this just in your brain all the time. You begin to write a storm from here on in.
''203.'' Allivar and Malcul, a red-head half-elf girl and a poetic half-orc guy. Malcul prefers Mal for short, and Allivar sometimes goes by Alli. Malcul's a first-year with big dreams, and you can't really get much out of Allivar. Interesting.
''204.'' is empty right now, but its neighbor of ''205.'' contains Lulu, a blonde cheerleader, and her roommate, a little fairy named Dimni. It requires very little effort to discern that Lulu is a futanari, mostly because of her upskirting herself while showing you her latest handstand. She seems a little bit ditzy. Dimni has vibrant silver hair, and despite clearly being more socially aware, she seems to play heavily into her roommate's antics.
''206.'' Glynn and Bardol, a nerdy dwarf and his more popular centaur roommate. The two dudes have basically nothing in common, but seem to get along well enough despite their differences. Glynn's a tutor, and Bardol plays sports. They seem to be in the same year, and it's easy to guess which side of the room is which since centaur-accessible furniture is pretty apparent.
''207.'' Lily and Marbles, an ordinary human business major and what looks to be a clown-girl. No-one but you acts like a young adult wearing clown makeup everywhere is strange, so clowns must just be another fantasy race that exists. Or maybe it's a religious thing? Your life is confusing. Lily's cold and closed off, but Marbles is predictably quite friendly.
''208.'' Rozzwell stops you from getting to know 208, for one reason or another. "...not yet, you'll be here all day, and you still have classes." Wait... "Am I missing class right now?" Rozzwell just shrugs. That's fair, not even //you// know your schedule, why would he?
''209.'' Elyot and Jean, one is a living skeleton, and one is just a proper ghost. Okay. They're fairly friendly, Elyot (the skeleton without taste buds) is here for cullinary arts, and Jean is here for journalism. Your interest is peaked when Elyot says he is a master of Italian cuisine, including lasagna. You may need to keep this one close.
''210.'' Rumiyuko and Emelyn are two wildly different girls, a human and a half-elf, one with black hair, one with silver. They both seem to be academics, which is the polite word for nerds, and both have branded tabletop roleplaying game shirts on. Even when in idle conversation with you, they correct one another, which shows underlying tension.
''211.'' Riobard and Shape, Riobard's an elf on his first year, and helpfully informs you that you can find your schedule on the website. When you don't know what that means, he explains it slowly, which helps. Shape isn't in right now, but the elf gives you the impression that Shape is a very strange individual that can morph its form at will. Freaky.
''212.'' This is your direct neighbor. Rozzwell tries to stop you from knocking on this door, but it's far too late.
[[The door begins to open.|Enter QWERTY]]Within these old pages lay all that you've written about people, from the first time you've met them. Since you write solely in pen, it's unlikely that you'll make many changes to the individual entries here. You may read onward to remind yourself of the basics of a character, or you may <<back"Close your journal.">>
''DORM-PEOPLE:''
''201: Urzig and Neremyr''
Urzig - a tall, strong, buff sexy orc woman that seems pretty anti-drug. She's nice and is typically seen wearing some kind of sport-attire that shows off her muscles and body.
Neremyr - a slim, soft femboy elf party animal. He seems pretty pro-drug, and is the brother of Syllyvana. He's typically seen wearing indecent party attire, and he seems to favor pinks and oranges.
''202: Sally and Sal''
Sally and Sal - a pair of identical twins, one guy and one gal, who have a tendency to dress in ways that defy gender norms. One of them likes music, and one of them likes theater, but it's very hard to discern which.
''203: Allivar and Malcul''
Allivar - a slender red-head half-elf that doesn't like letting you know more than that about her. Often seen wearing red, occasionally seen talking with Sleanne. She seems like trouble, and could probably back up that feeling.
Malcul - a strong half-orc man that yearns for the stage, he seems to have high aspirations. Often seen wearing polo shirts.
''204: No-One''
''205: Lulu and Dimni''
Lulu - a hot, albeit ditzy, human cheerleader that happens to be a futanari. She's generally sweet, and is often wearing her cheerleading outfit of red and black.
Dimni - a little fairy woman with vibrant silver hair. She seems to try to help Lulu through her more airheaded moments, and she's often seen wearing a cute little green dress.
''206: Glynn and Bardol''
Glynn - a well-kept dwarf fellow, who wears thick nerd glasses. He's socially awkward as can be, but has nice manners and is a tutor. Often seen wearing sweater vests.
Bardol - a sportsy centaur man, more confident than his roomie but just as nice. He seems to wear his sportsing jersey constantly, which could be tied to first-year enthusiasm.
''207: Lily and Marbles''
Lily - a serious human woman that lacks a sense of humor, and seems more private than most people on this page. She's a business major, and often wears a nice casual skirt.
Marbles - a clumsy blue-haired clown-girl, that's predictably funny, open, and friendly. She's a proper socialite, and is often seen wearing atypical clown outfits.
''208: Sleanne''
''Sleanne'' - an extremely charismatic, sexy goblin girl with a well-stacked body. She knows everybody worth knowing, and can say just the right words at the right time. Often seen wearing vaguely revealing yet functional clothing, she is the <span style="color:#B2FBA5">Queen of Coin</span>.
''209: Elyot and Jean''
Elyot - a living skeleton, with little motes of gray light where eyes should be. He's generally a jokey guy, but dreams of being a celebrity chef and breaking the stigma against skeletal cooks and their lack of tastebuds. He usually wears cool fucking t-shirts with brand names and flames on them.
Jean - a semi-transparent ghost man that has a tendency for setting Elyot up for punchlines and new recipes accidentally. He wants to be a journalist, apparently, and is often seen wearing the ghost of a robe.
''210: Rumiyuko and Emelyn''
Rumiyuko - an intelligent human gal that spends too much of her brain-power on memorizing and discussing TTRPG mechanics. She's quick-witted, and seems to go by RuYo when it'll save time. She's often seen wearing plain white shirts detailing spell effects from popular TTRPG games.
Emelyn - a short half-elf with silver hair, she often wears shirts that vaguely reference some nerd podcast or another. She's also clearly a tabletop enjoyer, but favors 'intended' over 'written', and God help you if you bring up 'Arcaned Uneartha'. She seems similarly intelligent as Rumiyuko.
''211: Riobard and Shape''
Riobard - a helpful elf man, who enjoys educating others. He's calm and patient, and might be one of the few people at this campus with all of his shit together. He's often seen wearing themed button-up shirts.
Shape - a mysterious shapechanging entity that the narrator automatically changes the pronouns of as they please. Often seen wearing any number of things, and looking like any number of people.
''212: Quwertee''
''Quwertee'' - a petite and powerful statue-girl made up of something similar to silver. She's got a bad attitude and can tell there's weirdness going on with you. She's the <span style="color:#FFFFC5">Queen of Swords</span>, and seems damn near impossible to really hurt. She's often seen wearing any number of pretty green wigs and some sort of punk-like attire. Usually involving leather and a skirt.
''213: Rozzwell and YOU''
''Rozzwell'' - the current RA and your roommate. He's a depressed human fellow, with flesh way too pale to be healthy. He is the <span style="color:#90D5FF">King of Cups</span>, and knows like everything about the college experience. Often seen wearing all-black, to showcase how broken he is inside. He seems dedicated to guiding you since you'll be replacing him next year.
YOU - What can be said about $name that hasn't already been said elsewhere? He's a human man, he has a large penis, and STATS, he's most often unaware of his past, and he's going to this school to earn a degree in Arcane Theory. <<if $SawPast is true>>He was a soldier, brave and strong, in a world without magic, run by megacorps fighting for swanky new fuel to rule the cosmos with.<</if>>
''214: Laferl and Aldis''
Laferl - a goblin man with swanky piercings. He likes crazy women and performing trickery, though he's a bit of a complaining cynic that pokes fun and sees the flaws in everything around him. Often seen wearing plain brandless shirts, since he's not fond of brands.
Aldis - a human guy who takes very little seriously, laughing at the world itself. Despite his comical stance on reality, he's more considerate than his roommate. Often seen wearing button-ups and bowties.
''215: Alycie and Exter''
Alycie - a partially demonic gal with deep blue skin, who is clearly not fond of her roommate. She's smart, strong, and charismatic, and tends to look at people with some sort of repressed hunger in her eyes. Often seen wearing purple and black striped shirts, sometimes featuring skulls. Her pants also tend to have holes in them.
Exter - a short human guy that often smells like vanilla. He wears shades all the time, even indoors, and dresses like someone threw a greaser forward in time. Seems vaguely menacing, possibly because of the greaser residue in his clothing.
''NON-DORM-PEOPLE:''
''Celci'' - a blue-haired gnomish waitress at the single best place on campus to eat breakfast lasagna, some restaurant called Ace. She's cute, and is often seen wearing her uniform, or alternatively a modest button-up shirt of some kind.
''Hilx'' - a twinkish catboy help desk attendant for Millerfield University. A real fast-talker that wears the customer-service mask with exhaustion at his little station. Often seen wearing a red polo shirt and a nametag.
<<if $MetNiolesa is true>>''Niolesa'' - not a person by anyone's definition, she's an intriguing and shadowy Eldritch Horror of some kind obfuscated by the shadows beneath her robes. Often seen wearing the robes in question, occasionally hints of a luscious body can be seen beneath, but she's far too big and tall compared to you for that to be a good idea.<<else>><span style="color:gray">//Someone dreamy.//</span><</if>>
''Nedallia'' - a sunny, bubbly, optimistic halfling artist girl. She's often seen wearing a tie-dye nightmare instead of a shirt, and is quite sweet and charming.<<if $MetRubi is true>> She's also the president of AKT, which makes sense, considering she's like a master at art.<</if>>
<<if $MetRubi is true>>''Rubi'' - an overworked thinker of a gal, and the VP to Nedallia's P. Often seen wearing the gold and purple uniform skirt thing that the non-costumed lady members of AKT wear. It's tragically less revealing than it sounds.<<else>><span style="color:gray">//Someone overworked.//</span><</if>>
<<if $MetGirart is true>>''Girart'' - a homeless-core guy with unfocused eyes and torn-up clothes. Often seen wandering aimlessly or staring directly at the sun, wearing blue-stained clothing.<<else>><span style="color:gray">//Someone sighted.//</span><</if>>
<<if $MetSagax is true>>''Professor Sagax'' - a sickly looking human that has some kind of connection to electricity. Often seen wearing a distinguished suit and tie, seems abrasive to the world at large, but he is a wellspring of arcane knowledge.<<else>><span style="color:gray">//Someone long-sighted.//</span><</if>>
<<if $MetStrodev is true>>''Professor Strodev'' - a red-fleshed demon man that's been around for a long time. Wise and calm, but clearly aware of how to keep order when called for. Often seen wearing a modest suit with holes cut for his wings to fit out of.<<else>><span style="color:gray">//Someone infernal.//</span><</if>>
<<if $MetTara is true>>''Tara'' - a bookish human woman, and apparently a new pledge for ZZZ if her behaviour in Sagax's class is anything to go by. Often seen wearing cute circular glasses and an itchy sweater.<<else>><span style="color:gray">//Someone scholar-adjacent.//</span><</if>>
<<if $MetJeremy is true or $NotTrevor is "Jeremy">> ''Jeremy'' - a regular human guy just trying his best to make it through this crazy thing we call college. He's ''not'' named Trevor. Often seen wearing a coat, since it's cold in Millerfield.<<else>><span style="color:gray">//Someone probably named Trevor.//</span><</if>>
<<if $SyllLunch is true>>''Gerard'' - a bookish member of ZZZ who likes to read, one of those Greater Nerds spoken of in fiction. Often seen wearing the typical cold-attire for ZZZ members: an orange and white sweater.<<else>><span style="color:gray">//Someone bookish.//</span><</if>>
<<if $SyllLunch is true>>''Rosemary'' - a //cute// and bookish member of ZZZ with //circular glasses// who keeps busy with her laptop. She has pink flesh, touched by magic. Often seen wearing the exact same attire that Gerard wears, because of uniforms.<<else>><span style="color:gray">//Someone laptopish.//</span><</if>>
<<if $MetEdith is true>>''Edith'' - an abrasive yet gorgeous human woman that's unfortunately unskilled with the instruments she wishes to become a Goddess at playing. Often wears an overly expensive designer dress, this month's trend is red.<<else>><span style="color:gray">//Someone out of depth.//</span><</if>>
<<if $PartySu is true>>''Su'' - the mysterious president of XOX, a sexy woman who really must like the color purple. Often seen wearing an indecent purple miniskirt.<<else>><span style="color:purple">//Someone purple.//</span><</if>>
<<if $PartyShay is true>>''Shayton'' - a lanky human gal that seriously knows how to listen, she knows something about everyone. She's a hard-worker, since she's often seen wearing her work uniform, composed of black jeans and a red button-up.<<else>><span style="color:gray">//Someone that waits and listens.//</span><</if>>
That's everything you've written for now. Even the gray stuff. Which is a little freaky. <<back"Close the journal.">><img src="images/dorm-map.png" width="1000" height="2000"/>
<<back"Look away from the dorm floor map.">>Rozzwell ordinarily moves like a dead man, shambling about, slowly walking, eyes tired and deep in thought. When he's talking with someone, he's content to keep his answers brief and blunt. When the door begins to open, however, he seems to spring into action, interposing himself between you and the room.
The tenant on the other side of the door is made entirely of a silver-like material, her body toned but not especially athletic. She looks like a flawless silver statue, with all the details required to make her truly look like a person, moving and peering out of her room at the two of you. <<if $SyllMenace is true>>This must be Quwertee, based on her skin being metal.<</if>>
Her eyes focus in on you quickly, despite Rozzwell's best efforts. "That wasn't the usual dead-inside knock of everyone's least-favorite RA. That one I can recognize." She says matter-of-factly. "No, //that// must have been the knock of someone who doesn't know better than to smash on my door."
Rozzwell peers at you as well. Those eyes are conflicted, he knows what it's like to be alone near this one, but it's clear he also dreads what you've gotten him into. "This is $name. He's new here, like you. Get used to him." He says, bumping into you as he walks away, stranding you here. <<if $Swords >= 2>><span style="color:gray">//He just slipped some kind of small pebble into your pocket.//</span><</if>>
The statue-girl stares right through you, arms crossed as she leans against her doorway. "Quwertee." She says simply, still staring you down defiantly. <<if $SyllMenace is true>>"I knew that already." You reply, before trying to figure out what the hell to do from here, if anything.<<else>>"That's a normal name." You say, quickly trying to figure out what to do from here.<</if>>
You decide to start with your name, that worked on the other rooms. "I'm $name. I'll be replacing Rozzwell as RA, so we should get to know each other." There's a horrible moment where your vision floods with text and numbers once again, where time grinds to a halt.
''THE QUEEN OF SWORDS:''
''WANDS: 2''
''SWORDS: 10''
''COIN: 4''
''CUPS: 1''
When your vision is free once more, she's reaching out to grab you.
[[Tell me about her appearance before she grabs me.|QWRTYLook1]]
[[Proceed.|QWRTYOptions]]Time grinds to a halt once again, and your eyes hyperfocus on the gorgeous silver form before you. The first thing of note is the fact that you can see movement.
There's no special awareness in her eyes, but there's an infinitely repeating number of after-images of her hand moving to grab you, even while time is stopped. You've never tried moving while looking at someone before, but you think she's going to grab you even if you could move out of the way.
Back on topic, brotherman. Her hair isn't made of that silver material, it seems to be a wig. <span style="color:#39e75f">Quwertee's wig is a curly, beautiful thing of vibrant green, befitting her flawless metal body.</span> Her eyes are staring defiantly at you, <span style="color:#F5BF03">sharp pools of gold that she'd never let you stare into.</span>
There's a dangerous smile on her face, a smirk that hides promises of rough treatment. She owns this place, and you're just an interruption to her. Lower down, around her neck, is a spiked black choker. Lower still is a torn shirt that's effectively been turned into a crop top. It's white, and has the image of a bird carrying flaming flowers on it. You have no idea if that means anything.
Your eyes briefly linger on her breasts, <span style="color:#17517E">a deep blue bra underneath that too-short shirt</span>, they're not especially large, but she might kill you if you say that. Your eyes can't help but travel down her toned body, eventually going past her shamelessly displayed midriff, and reaching her hips.
The statue-girl's wearing a <span style="#900D09">strangely alluring asymmetrical skirt, half red and half black,</span> all held up by a spiked belt that reminds of her collar. <span style="color:gray">//Why are your thoughts so oddly determined to describe her as sexy and attractive?//</span> Her body's not especially well-endowed in any area, but the fierce edge and manner of dress is doing something effectively.
Regardless of your strange relationship with mean girls, lower than her skirt is a pair of black boots that really tie the whole vaguely punkish outfit together. As far as miscellaneous appearance details go: her skin isn't reflective, but you can make out vague colors from the lights in the hall on her. You have no idea what material she's really made of, but will stick with silver for simplicity's sake for now.
[[Enough about the statue-girl's appearance, it's time to face your fate.|QWRTYOptions]]Quwertee grabs you by your shirt's collar, shoving you past the threshold of her door, and into the room proper. She closes the door behind the both of you, and presses your skull to one of the walls. Despite her looking far from buff, there's an unmatched strength to her hands.
"I was gonna ignore you, close my door, go back to sleep." She begins, grabbing your wrist when you try to move it to push her away. "...but you did something. Something //strange.//" Strange? You hardly know the meaning of the word!
"What did I do?" You ask calmly, heart beating rapidly as your mind works tirelessly to make use of this fight or flight thing you're quickly entering. "I dunno. But I've felt it before. You looked at me, but you dug ''deep.'' Last time it happened, I thought I must've been crazy..."
Her silver hand pulls you away from the wall, forcibly turning you to face her. Her gorgeous wig of vibrant green hair catches your eye, but she interrupts that distracted description by moving your head until you're looking her in her eyes. "What...are we doing? Meeting people isn't usually...this." You say, as she methodically and gradually adjusts the angles you're staring at her with.
Eventually, it happens, as she holds your cheek in a way that'd be romantic in other circumstances. Your vision floods with text and numbers that you recognize by now.
''QUWERTEE, THE QUEEN OF SWORDS:''
''WANDS: 2''
''SWOR''
She releases your face at that point, and your vision returns to normal. "That one. That was it. I felt it again. The smallest tingle along my spine, this pressure in my skull." She kicks your legs out from beneath you with an exaggerated leg-sweep move. Before you can get up, or ask her what the hell that was, or even just like crawl away, she puts a boot on your chest.
"Look. The way I see it, it's pretty simple. You can play dumb, or run, or try to break your hand on me..." She presses her punk-boot harder on your chest for a moment with a smirk, before letting up. "...or you could make this year easier for both of us, and actually talk."
That would be...a very reasonable demand, if she weren't stepping on you right now. Also, what the hell could you even tell her that would sound sane? Also, you forgot about your journal until now, but you think you can feel it beneath your back...at least there's no chance she'll read that for her own answers.
[[Turn the tables on her, that will end well.|QWRTYSwords]]
[[Just...tell her, it's not that unreasonable of a request.|QWRTYChoice]]
[[Those other options are for pansies, flirt with the mean girl statue immediately.|QWRTYFlirt]]There's no way beneath, or above, so you'll have to go through. Ready yourself, this is your first real confrontation with the world.
<<set $Swords to $Swords + 1>>
<<if $Swords is 4>>You can tell that you're outmatched in every aspect, you saw her Swords stat and everything, ten beats four. That doesn't mean you can't do //anything//, especially when she's not used to people standing up to her. Plus you'd ''really'' like to wipe that smug expression off of her face, even though you know this will hurt a fuckton.
You inhale, then exhale deeply, meeting her golden gaze above you. "Alright, I'll tell you." You begin, waiting for the right reaction. The little smile of victory on her face, the slight movement of her foot, as she lifts it off of you. The ideal moment to strike.
Once you see your chance, you take it. She's ''heavy'', since she's made of metal, but you don't care, that's future you's problem. You push her left leg backwards as she's lifting it off of you, sending her falling backwards, onto her ass with a mighty ''thud'' of metal meeting carpet. You quickly leap to your feet, and...
[[Run, motherfucker!|QWRTYFlee]]
[[Press the advantage.|QWRTYFight]]
<<else>>Your mighty passion burns bright inside of you, eager to show this cruel menace who's boss. You stare up into her eyes, defiantly, the fire in your eyes making her smile softly down at you, chuckling to herself. You bring your hand up, and punch her with all of your might, right in the knee!
''CLANG'', followed by ''CRUNCH.'' She runs a few fingers along her knee, tracing patterns around it as your adrenaline pounds in your eardrums, as white-hot pain shoots through your hand. She laughs cruelly, before moving off of you. "You //actually// hit me?"
You think your hand is broken, based on the violent bend it has now. "You're...''really'' stupid, but luckily for you..." Quwertee kneels next to you, humming gently to herself as she fishes around in your pockets, eventually producing a small little pebble.
<<set $RockUsed to true>>
"...Rozzwell's not too great at sneaking things onto people." She says, crushing the pebble over your broken hand with no effort. Almost immediately you feel cool relief flow over you, as the rock-dust turns a strange pink against your skin. "I'll make sure to take those from you from now on, so the pain sticks next time."
<<set $QWRTYAff to 1>>
"Why do you keep...rubbing your knee like that?" You ask, eyes somewhat transfixed on how she's rubbing the knee you punched with something resembling sensuality. "Huh? Oh, yea...It gets boring being the best at something, you miss the sensation of challenge." You raise an eyebrow at that suggestion as your hand seems to crack and bend back into proper working shape.
<<set $BrokenHand to true>>
"I'm a challenge to //you?//" You ask, getting onto your feet now that you can focus on something other than pain. "Definitely not, you suck ass. But there was actual passion there. You gonna leave, or keep breaking your frail body on me?" She asks, to which you grimace.
You grab your journal, and leave, and she doesn't stop you, really. She's too interested in feeling around her knee, and you're too interested in not permanently breaking something to stay.
[[At least you kept your dignity.|MoveOn]]<</if>>You're not demented enough to try to get in her pants in a situation like this, and you don't like your odds in a fight, so the path of rationality seems best. Or maybe you just want to be on good terms with everyone?
Quwertee stares down at you as you have this internal conversation, watching your eyes very intently. Right. The matter at hand. There's...really no way to sound strictly sane while telling someone about your unique situation, but your method could definitely make some kind of difference.
How do you plan to go about telling her?
<<set $ToldQWRTY to true>>
[[I'll tell her it in as rational of a way as possible. To-the-point, but informative in tone.|QWRTYWands]]
[[If I can just make comparisons and connections to the world she knows, it'd probably be easiest.|QWRTYCups]]
[[I know about the Pop Culture, and People, and Things, I can totally use those as intermediaries so I don't sound insane.|QWRTYCoin]]<<set $flirtstat to $flirtstat + 1>>
<<if $flirtstat >= 4>>You have a serious problem with flirting with everyone you meet, this is getting out of hand.<</if>> You look her up and down, taking in how beautiful this petite statue-girl really is. The fact that she's very nearly upskirting herself of course also draws your gaze. If only you could lean forward without breaking your ribs on her foot.
Her eyes are confused, briefly, before she blinks a few times, and laughs extremely loudly. "Holy shit! You're getting off on this, aren't you?" The silver beauty continues to laugh, shaking her head slowly. "You're a real freak, y'know that?"
This was not how it was meant to go. Quwertee's mocking tone seems to suddenly take a turn, as she slowly takes her boot off of your chest. She sits down next to you, golden eyes peering deeply down into your own. She simply pushes you back down when you try to sit up.
"Even though you're an absolute loser freak, uh..." She begins, powerfully. "You're handsome, y'know?" She says, convincingly. "We could have a lot more fun..." She confidently traces a finger over your chest in little circles. "...if you just open up to me." Wait a minute...are you being flirted with? Dear God...
[[You should be genuine and true, and also tell her what she wants to know.|QWRTFLIRTWands]]
[[I'm not some cheap harlot! Play hard to get.|QWRTFLIRTCups]]
[[Girls love it when you disregard the last thing they said and focus entirely on complimenting them.|QWRTFLIRTCoin]]
[[Confidence is key. Confidently flirt back at her.|QWRTFLIRTSwords]]You're not eager to get in a prolonged fight with a woman made of metal, so you quickly get to your feet. Quwertee's gaze follows you as you hurry to the door, and quickly open it. There's a little smile on her face, which makes your efforts to leave hasten.
<<set $QWRTYAff to 1>> <<set $RanAway to true>>
[[You make your way into the hall.|MoveOn]]You're no coward, even in the face of someone made entirely of metal. Quwertee parts the curls from her eyes, glaring up at you fiercely from her new position. "You have three seconds to leave before I break every bone in your body." She says, as you carefully circle her. Her dorm only has one bed in it, so you can make larger circles than if you were in your own room.
You have no idea what a fighting technique is, or a martial art, but you know that if she hits you, that'll be it, so you need to keep her on the ground. Your heart beats mightily in your chest, adrenaline pumping, as she finishes waiting for you to leave, and tries to get onto her feet.
You stop her, tripping her up with only minor bruises to your legs from having to leg-sweep a silver statue. She ''thuds'' against the carpet again, face-down, and you think you hear her snarling like a fucking rabid animal. She ''does not'' like losing, and you are quickly realizing you can't just trip her forever.
Quwertee leaps to her feet with the force only a flawless statue could, punching directly at your face over and over again, but you're quick on your feet to dodge and duck desperately. You're sweating as she continues an utterly disorienting flurry of punches, eventually falling to your back to avoid a high kick.
<<set $RockUsed to true>>
She stomps downward with immense force, but you roll out of the way. Quwertee is ''shaking'' with fury, or joy, or lust, you can't tell anymore, she's laughing and growling and stomping like it's all a game, but there's that fierce look of determination to her gaze that keeps you dodging all the same.
Everyone's luck runs out eventually, and yours comes when your body realizes it's made of meat, and grows sore and tired from constant dodging. Without a way to strike back, you're fucked, and both of you know this. Soon you're backed against a wall, and she manages to punch you directly in the solar plexus.
You should have heard a crunch, and probably felt bone piercing places it shouldn't pierce, but instead you lose all of your breath and puke all over her carpet. Even as your head spins, you peer defiantly up at her, into those blazing golden eyes of hers. She's smiling ear to ear, meeting your gaze all the same.
[[You feel yourself drawn into the beautiful eyes of your attacker, and can't find your way back out.|QWRTYDrowning]]When you return to the hallway, you can easily see Rozzwell leaned against a nearby wall, and the foot-traffic has mostly cleared out. The pale fellow doesn't say anything to you, just snaps his fingers <<if $RockUsed is true>> to seemingly no effect.<<else>>to which a small pink pebble seems to hover out of your pocket, before evaporating into nothingness.<</if>> After a few moments, he quietly leads you to the next rooms.
''213'' is your room, and as such Rozzwell doesn't even stop there, despite your intensive staring at the room number and preparation to knock.
<<if $RockUsed is true>>"Why did you just snap like that?" You ask him, in response he just shakes his head gently, before speaking. "...in case you hadn't used that rock I put on you. But looks like you did. So...for fun, I guess."
<<else>>"What was that rock all about?" You ask, to which he laughs once. "Oh, yeah...it heals people if it's around when they get hurt. Just wanted to be safe, in case you did something absurdist..." He shrugs. "I know how Quwertee can be..."<</if>>
''214.'' Two calm seeming dudes, Laferl (a goblin), and Aldis (a human). They both seem to want to join the same fratrority for all of the 'crazy chicks' in it. Apparently the fratrority in question is Kappa Epsilon Kappa, also called the KEK House. They're pretty friendly, but seem to take the piss out of everything around them.
''215.'' Alycie and Exter. These two seem to hate each other, Alycie is partially demon, or a really dedicated cosplayer, what with the blue skin, horns, and tail. Exter is a human guy dressed like some kind of punk greaser, and he also seems to wear sunglasses indoors. They've worked out some ingenious system where only one of them is in the room at a time, and you were apparently lucky enough to meet with Alycie first.
''216.'' is empty, but if someone conjures from thin air, they're likely to end up there.
That just leaves the other empty room, 204, as well as the room that Rozzwell stopped you from interacting with, 208.
"Hey." Rozzwell says, seeing how you peer at 208. "Before you meet the person in there. Sorry for leaving you with Quwertee. She's..."
[[Complicated.|CompComp]]
[[The Worst.|CompWorst]]As if swimming around in the depths of the sun itself, you are surrounded at all sides by a rampaging inferno of roiling golden flame. There is nothing else here, you aren't even physically real, there is no such thing as school, or the ground, just fire. But there's never //just// fire, is there?
You fall. Perhaps forever, but you fall, until you come slamming into a beautiful portrait of a young woman with pretty olive skin, and long brown hair. When you tear through it, due to the speed that you fell, you find yourself covered in ink and paint and canvas. But you //are// the canvas.
''Quwertee, are you awake?''
"Yeah, I think I am." You reply, looking around the dusty old workshop you've woken up in. Something's wrong with your skin, and you don't have your beautiful brown hair at all. There's an older man, with olive skin and messy brown hair, who stares at you with an apron on. He hasn't slept in a while, and isn't clean-shaven like he usually is. His apron's covered in dust. Metal dust? "What happened...I feel like...I'm...forgetting. Something." You say.
<span style="color:#FFFFC5">//It's the ocean. You're forgetting the ocean.//</span> ''Don't worry, princess. If you can't remember it, it probably isn't important, right?'' He raises a fair point, but, he //is// your father, so it isn't that shocking. For some reason he's crying, but thinks you can't notice that. He hugs you tightly.
You wake up, your family's taking this stupid vacation to the beach, in some expensive beach-house. Even as you scream at the nightmare to end, it won't, and so you all go through the motions, like you do every time you remember that day.
Everyone gets in the house, it starts to storm. No-one wants to acknowledge that it's off, because then it means the vacation was a bad idea. If the vacation was a bad idea, your family will fight again, so everyone's instead content to sit there, like sleeping dolls, even as the window cracks.
<<set $Drowning to true>>
They joke about it, in the moment. Humor can diffuse any situation, save any flailing marriage. It doesn't. Then the glass breaks. It's beautiful, even as you're sinking.
<<set $EI to $EI + 1>>
''Viviana, can you hear me?''
''Please wake up...I can't lose both of you.''
[[I think I'm drowning, dad.|WakeyWakey]]You wake up, coughing, sputtering, spitting up. The fluid that drips from your maw isn't blood, it's something...worse, a blackish substance. Quwertee stares down at you, shaking her head quickly as she seems to regain focus too. Her eyes are perfect images of sorrow that she can't cry, being metal and all. "Fucking...you..." She shivers, trying to get back into her fury but failing.
She can't see the black fluid, you don't think. And soon neither can you.
"Get...the fuck out. I don't know what you are, but you're ''dead'' if you ever do...whatever that was...again." She balls up her fist, but just slowly marches over to her bed, collapsing onto it and burying her face in her pillow.
You really should get out, but, after all of what you just saw, whatever it meant, however real it was...
[[...comfort the girl that almost broke every bone in your body.|CuddleQWRTY]]
[[...confront these conflicted feelings later, or bury them down forever.|MoveOn]]You must be insane, or stupid, or kind-hearted. Maybe all three. You stumble over to her bedside as best as you are able, all of the stress of combat having left you by now. She obviously hears you coming, and side-eyes you with tired eyes, but doesn't snap your arm like a twig when you put your hand on her back, and gently pat it. Her back is cold against your fingers.
She blinks a few times, before snorting a bit. "You're...fucking weird." She says, chuckling very quietly to herself. "Look, I...don't know what you saw when that happened." You say, still patting her back reassuringly. "But...I know what I saw, and...if it was the same stuff, I, uh...sorry for making you relive...whatever that was."
Quwertee seems to spend a long time thinking over what you're telling her, before ultimately sighing. "I don't forgive you. What you did was wrong, and fucked up. Maybe I'd give you more leeway if you'd just..." She sighs again.
"...if //any of you// would just tell me what the ''fuck'' is going on." You don't really know who this 'any of you' is, but if there are other people that are remotely like you, that's a terrifying reality to live in.
"Look, I...Will it take your mind off of this if I do?" You ask, to which she grimaces. "Nah. It probably wouldn't."
[[Tell her what you know about...you.|QWRTYKindTell]]
Your head ''really'' doesn't like dwelling on the nature of your existence, so you're quick to sit down by her side. Some of the brain-ache is because ''you don't belong here.'' As long as you don't mention ''No-Name'', she should be fine...
"I don't know who the other people are, that you're talking about, but...I'm...weird. Like you said." You begin, but she doesn't mock you, now that you're talking. She stares at you, turning somewhat. Her eyes are focused intently on you now. Now the hard part, big man. "I...wasn't always the person in this body."
"I don't know where I came from. You don't have to believe me, I know enough about...existing, to know that this sounds insane." You sort of lay down on your back, next to her, staring into her face as she stares back. "When I look at people hard enough, time just...stops, except sometimes they still move a little? I don't really get it."
"I don't have any...crazy superpower, I can't //move// when time's in that state, I just...stare, and see all I can see of someone in that moment. No-one else was really //aware// it happened, until you. But, you also said this has happened to you before, so...it might just be an exposure thing?"
<<set $ToldQWRTY to true>>
"About the other thing, the...memory stuff,<<if $EI >= 2>> that...happens in really specific circumstances, I had to pry more last time, but for you it just...dragged me in.<<else>> I have no idea what that was. I just...saw your eyes as I should've passed out, and saw all of that.<</if>> It wasn't purposeful. I'm...sorry."
Quwertee closes her eyes, thinking about your words, before nodding slowly. "Whatever. If it wasn't on purpose..." She inhales deeply, then exhales mightily. "...I guess we'll call it even." And that's all she says, content to lay there now. You have no idea why your chest isn't broken, she didn't seem to hold back very much back there.
"...Rozzwell put a little pebble he infused with healing energy in your pocket. He sucks at doing that sneakily. It probably broke from all the fighting, and healed you. Lucky you."
Huh. Well, maybe he did still look out for you, despite abandoning you.
[[Leave this room.|MoveOn]]
[[It feels like you should somehow help her still, even though she did try to break your bones. Is that crazy?|CuddleQWRTYREAL]]You're already on her bed, and she isn't telling you to leave, so...despite all the danger involved, despite the fact that you basically have a free escape right now, despite the fact that she was bounding around the room like a rabid animal trying to attack you...
You hug the metal girl, tightly, like you remember the man in that fever dream doing to you. She goes ''very'' stiff for a moment, especially since she watches your approach. Quwertee's not caught off-guard, exactly, but it's clear she's fighting a ''lot'' of conflicting feelings. With shaking hands, her face contorted into some strange grimace, she wraps her hands around you as well.
You're trapped, now, since her grip is far stronger than your own. The hug hurts a little bit, because of how tightly she clings onto you in that moment. She just lays there, letting her face rest against your chest while holding you tightly, as if it will shield her from feeling. This is an uneasy equilibrium to be in, but you're in it for the long haul now.
<<set $QWRTYAff to 2>>
When you try to speak, she just squeezes you until you stop. "Shut up." She says. "I'm only doing this so you'll feel better about invading my brain." She states as fact.
<<set $QWRTYTalk to true>>
The two of you stay like that for a little while, you slowly start feeling a little comfortable despite her cold metal arms. Eventually, however, she disentangles from the hug. "What you did was still fucked up. If you can control that power...figure out how to do that. Fast." Quwertee seems to remember something, "...And if you try to tell people that I broke down, and you //hugged// me?" You quickly scurry off of the bed, you can't handle another fight like that in a day.
"...I'll deny it, and at least a dozen frat-bros will bully the shit out of you because I'll bat my sexy eyelashes at them." She says confidently, batting those sexy eyelashes of hers at you. Damn.
"Now get out. Some of us have important classes to be sleeping through." Quwertee points at the door, before burying herself back in her pillow.
[[Leave this place, and contemplate bullying yourself now that she batted her sexy eyelashes at you.|MoveOn]]Deep inhale. Deep exhale. "I just want to preface this by saying...everything I'm telling you is true, as far as I know." You state, to which the silver construct gently steps off of you. Holy shit, that makes it ''way'' easier to breathe.
Her arms cross as she listens intently. "So...I am new to existing. There was someone in this body, before me. Someone else's mind, and memories. The mind is gone, but some of the memories come and go. Nothing about my...his...our past. Little things, like knowing my phone is mine. Even though it isn't //really.//"
You half-expected her to start questioning you by now, to laugh you off, or to tell you to leave for wasting her time. But she doesn't, she just listens closely. She takes a seat on the foot of her bed, silent. Silence is awkward, so you continue.
<<set $Wands to $Wands + 1>>
"When I look at someone, in enough detail, time just...stops. All I can do in that situation is look at their appearance, and see interesting colors and shapes. There's a new thing now, where I see numbers, and some kind of title, when looking at some people."
You remember to get off of your back, carefully scooping up your journal in the process. "You're also the first person to actually notice my weird...time-condition."
There's not much else to tell her, really. Telling her about ''No-Name'' would probably endanger the entire campus, if that journal you're clutching is anything to go off of.
[[She just waits, until it's clear you have nothing else to add.|QWRTYCONT]]Hopefully this will make it seem more...grounded in reality. "There's no great way to tell you, I don't think. But...picture a snowglobe." Quwertee tilts her head somewhat, before stepping off of you. "If this is some dumb distraction..." She trails off, closing her eyes.
"In this snowglobe, is its own tiny world, it's distant and pretty, and just out of reach. The snowglobe is...this universe. And there are a lot of snowglobes on a shelf, with little changes in all of them."
They should pay you the big bucks for describing multiverses. "In one snowglobe, there's a snowman, who wishes he was in another snowglobe. Three globes over, there's a...little soldier that wants to switch snowglobes too."
You stand up, and grab your journal. That thing kills your back to lay on...
"I was one of those little people, and the person that I switched with was too. We switched snowglobes, but things are...weird, I think. It's like the world knows I'm not meant to be in it, sometimes weird things happen."
"...like when you look at someone?" Quwertee asks, to which you nod. Her eyes are closed, so you reply in the affirmative. "Yeah. Sometimes all of the snow pauses in the air, and none of the other figures can see it, but I can. I can see all the little details in the other figures, when the snow's frozen up high."
<<set $Cups to $Cups + 1>>
You tap your chin a bit. "Apparently others can notice the paused snow, even though they can't really...see it. You can, at least. I dunno. I'm still really new to this..."
You decide to leave out the metaphorical snowglobe-keeper that used tweezers to move figures around, since your journal gives a decent argument against sharing that knowledge.
[[After waiting for you to continue, it becomes apparent that's all you have to offer. She opens her eyes.|QWRTYCONT]]Explaining the impossible is ''easy!'' You stare up into her golden eyes from beneath her, drawing on the cosmic power of culture. "Okay, so, it's actually a lot like a video game." She immediately steps off of you, apparently taken aback by the speed at which you articulated that.
"Or like a movie, I guess. But it's definitely nothing like a book. I'm suffering from a weird twist on amnesia, like Rimblo Fizzlebunk from Fog Island." That sounded like complete gibberish to you, but she seems to know that character. Where the hell did you even draw that from?
"...but instead of //regular// amnesia, I swapped bodies with someone, like in Thrange Thursday. But...instead of switching bodies with my mom, which, I'm not sure I have, it was a trans-dimensional hop...kind of like the movie Manythings All At The Same Time...but not really?"
"Like in Goofy Heartz, there's just...other worlds, but not like how there's other planets, I mean like...dimensions? Timelines? Universes? For some reason calling them Settings sounds...closest." Quwertee just blinks a few times at you, motioning to continue.
"So, that's the part that's like a movie, my amnesia and body-swapping dimension-hopping. But when I...hone-in on someone, with my eyes, time just ''stops.'' It's like when you pause a game, except instead of a menu, I can still see clearly. I can't move, or do anything, but I can see."
"...also, I can see the...stats, of people now. That's new, and it just kind of forces itself into my skull, like some kind of character intro cutscene. I dunno how you could tell it happened, maybe you're special or something."
The silver-girl before you nods slowly. "I want to call you a fucking giga-dweeb for thinking anyone would understand all of that, but I understood it, so..."
You think better of bringing up the essence of Existential Horror that's just ambiently //around//, since then you'd have to say the forbidden name, and a mysteriously missing author seemed to think that was a bad idea. You stand, and grab the journal in question.
[[You seem to have told her most of what you know, and she's probably not eager to ask for more references.|QWRTYCONT]]Quwertee seems to think for a few more moments, before shrugging. "Thanks. That actually sounds like a...really shitty power. Makes me feel a lot safer. Sorry for leg-sweeping you, or whatever."
You shrug, "It's probably fine, thanks for not thinking I was making all of that stuff up." The statue-girl shakes her head slowly at you. "You sounded like a fucking mental patient, but...I believe it. You weren't acting like a liar." You have no idea what that means.
"Anyway. Consider us cool. Don't get in my way, and I won't get in yours." She says simply, walking over to her bed and laying down with a mighty stretch. Her hands are held semi-comfortably behind her head. It was pretty apparent already, but lying down like that, she's concerningly beautiful. She notices your slight staring, and smirks at you.
She flexes and stretches her petite form further, pressing her chest out a little bit, seeming to take great pride in your helpless gaze. You're not sure if there's some kind of magic at-play, or if her body really just is that impressive to you. Soon enough, she knocks on one of her metallic forearms with a ''tink-tink-tinking'' noise. "Alright, alright...Show's over, time to go. Don't make me get up."
The threat there is obvious, but it's also a challenge. Despite a little temptation, you really don't want a broken arm from testing her patience.
[[To the hall, then.|MoveOn]]<<set $Coin to $Coin + 1>>"You're the most attractive girl I've ever seen." You say, taking her somewhat off guard. She seems to freeze for a few moments, before smiling a confident smirk. "I know." She puts both hands behind her as she sits, seeming to stretch in a vaguely seductive way.
She just stays like that, which means your powerful flirtation didn't work. <<if $Coin >= 3>>You'll need a more disarming approach than just an ordinary flirtatious compliment. That slight pause was proof she //can// be bested in a battle of words, but she'll brush off anything too mundane as fact because of her unstoppable confidence.
Your eyes carefully look her over, scanning for...something. You're not sure what, but just as prior, the statue-girl notices your gaze. Rather than laugh at you, she just keeps smirking. Your keen powers of insight tell you that she won't just sit there like that for long. You take note of her contradictory reaction, too.
"Take a picture if you like looking at me so much." She says, chuckling a little. "You're seriously pathetic." Quwertee states with a smile. Hmm... "I get the feeling that there's more to you than this...persona, that you're showing me right now. I think you're a beautiful girl, the //actual// you. Give me a chance to meet her."
It works, she freezes again, and turns to face you proper. But rather than a smirk, her face is entirely straight. "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about." She begins, grabbing you by your shoulders. She stares deeply into your eyes, grimacing somewhat. "You've got no fucking clue. You think you're special, some kind of people-person, who can ''see things'' in others? Life's not that complex. You are your actions."
She ''smiles'' again, grip tightening on your shoulders. "And I ''hurt'' people. I cheat at life, and school. I lie, I use my sex-appeal to cause chaos. And if someone gets in my way, I just punch them. That's the 'real me'. Satisfied?" Your body can't really keep up under the slowly increasing pressure of her fingers, not without bones cracking.
Well, are you satisfied?
[[Yes, please let me go now.|QWRTFLIRTCoinYes]]
[[No.|QWRTFLIRTCoinNo]]
<<else>>She wasn't prepared for one compliment, hit her with more, brotherman. Persistence is key, and this lock is a difficult one. "Your eyes are just perfect."
"Yeah. I know." She smirks.
"No-one's skin is as flawless as yours."
"Yup. I //am// great." She stretches slowly.
"You look absolutely stunning in that top."
"Of course I do, I look sexy in anything." She slowly stands up.
"That smile of yours could make any day brighter."
"I do make life worth living, don't I?" She sits at her desk, and starts flipping through a magazine. ''MIRIAMMA FIZZLEBONK'S SECRET AFFAIR???''
"You're...strong?"
"The strongest." She replies, flipping through that magazine as if you don't exist.
You aren't making much more progress this way. You'll have to come back at this with a new game plan. Her flawless stunning sexy bright strong self is just too immune to your compliments as it stands. Or she's too enraptured by famous gnomish actress Miriamma Fizzlebonk's secret affair...
"Door's over there. See you some other time." She says, motioning in the vague direction of the door. "You're great at avoiding answering questions." Quwertee states, continuing to flip through her magazine.
[[There's not much to do right now other than go into the hall.|MoveOn]]<</if>><<set $Cups to $Cups + 1>>Who does she take you for? Some kind of romanceable character in a porn game? How absurd! You'd never fall for someone after one interaction where she calls you handsome! She'd at least have to guess your blood type first, which, in fairness, you yourself don't even know...
You cross your arms, and turn your head away. "It'll take more than that to get into my pants, lady." You say, huffing to yourself. You can't see her reaction, because you're looking the opposite direction, but the feeling of confusion is powerfully radiating from her all the same.
"O..kay." she says, slowly. The lengthy pause that follows suggests she's having trouble figuring out what the hell to do in response to that. Eventually, however, she speaks again, while you're busy feeling the soft carpet in the dorm room. "You're...enticing, because of your principles. They make you sexy. We should talk about how those tie into your mysterious powers."
<<set $QWRTYDate to true>>
"You must think I'm some kind of floozy. I'd never kiss and tell before a date." You say, to which you hear an audible groan from Quwertee, followed by a little chuckle. "I don't think you know what that means." She says, to which you let out a laugh. "Hah! I think you're just too chicken!"
There's a pause that makes the mood shift, you feel like you're in extreme danger. The room grows cold, and the forces of frost assail you as she says those fabled words. "''It's. A. Date. Then.''" She grabs your shoulder, tightly, and drags you (still sitting mind you) to her door. "I'll pick you up in the evening tonight. Eight, probably. If you have anything that looks less...like your clothes. Wear that."
She swiftly opens the door. Holy shit, you have a date!
[[The statue-girl pushes you out of the room after that.|MoveOn]]<<set $Wands to $Wands + 1>>"Well...I think I'd like to open up too, actually...I don't fully understand, well...anything, yet." You say, to which Quwertee adjusts to lay on her side, head held up by her knuckles as she faces you. "It does sound really hard to be you." She says, sweetly.
You nod, it really is, isn't it? "So...I have these terrible nightmares, but...they were real, a little..." You remember that ''No-Name'' is some kind of weird eldritch information-infection, and decide against going too far in that direction. "It's alright, we all get scary dreams, right?" She says, reassuring you through your conflicting desires.
<<set $ToldQWRTY to true>>
"...I appreciate you for listening to all of this, it's...not easy to share this stuff, but I have to tell ''someone,'' right? Otherwise, it might just...sound crazy." You say, sighing gently. Quwertee's eyes soften a little bit, her gaze breaking from yours for some reason.
"...yeah. It's good to share. With someone you trust." She says, before turning onto her back, facing the ceiling alongside you. You nod, before continuing. "...Yeah. I guess it is. Anyway...the, uh, weird feeling you get, when I look at you, sometimes...that's all of time stopping, I think. It'd probably be weirder if it //wasn't// all of time..."
She lets out a very confused noise for a moment, but decides to just let you continue. "I can't do anything in it, though, it seems pretty limited...I just...see numbers, and colors, and can get a pretty good vibe for someone's appearance." If she's doubtful, or considers you raving mad, she doesn't voice it.
Instead, she asks simply, "...could you always do that, is it a spell, or something?" To which you shrug. "I guess I couldn't do it to the bus driver, but, also, I didn't really talk to the bus driver...also, I..." You inhale deeply. "I haven't...existed before today. This body's not mine. At first...I thought it was amnesia, but...I found out from a reliable source that I'm just straight-up not the original guy in this body."
Quwertee stares more intently at the ceiling for some reason when you say that. When it becomes clear you don't...really...have more to share, she eventually speaks again. "You seem like an okay guy, you should...get someone better to talk about your weird situation with than me." She just keeps staring at the ceiling. "It bums me out to think about."
<<set $QWRTYTalk to true>>
She doesn't really seem interested in saying anything more. You could probably leave now, if you wanted.
[[Adventure onward, after a fake therapy session.|MoveOn]]
[[...Why does it bum her out?|QWRTFLIRTWands01]]<<set $Swords to $Swords + 1>>Quwertee doesn't look like an intimidating figure on her own. She's not that tall, and her frame is petite, not buff at all. But her personality, the air of confidence and unstoppable willpower really makes her seem a fair bit more unapproachable. All of this is to say...it's a //little// intimidating to try to be so blunt with her, especially when she could easily break your arm if she wanted to.
<<if $Swords is 4>>You need not be afraid. Be blunt, disregard potential consequence. She would do the same unto you if the roles were reversed. You make searing eye-contact with her, which immediately seems to make her posture change. It doesn't turn flustered, it turns defensive, as if she's waiting for your move so she can counter-attack.
<<set $QWRTYAff to 1>>
"I find you attractive, like, really attractive, and we could waste time talking about whatever the hell's going on with me, or we could have some real fun." You say, to which she blinks a few times. "...Don't stare at my eyes like that, freak." She starts. "That's rule one. Rule two..." She says, trailing fingers along her gorgeous thighs, stretching as to show them off. "...is that I'm a bad bitch and a tease. You're not special enough to risk my growing reputation on."
<<set $QWRTYProve to true>>
She smirks, moving her hand from her thighs to your chin. Her fingers feel warm to the touch, as she moves your chin up so your eyes look toward her smirk. "There's //plenty// of sluts for you to //'have fun'// with. I'm not one of them." She releases your chin. "If you want me to tank my reputation on you, be someone worth being with."
You raise your eyebrow. "You're a freshman like me, how crazy of a reputation could you really have already?" Quwertee scoffs. "You have a lot to learn...Rozzwell abandoned you for a reason. I'm trouble, I'm change, I'm power and revenge. This badass rogue agent that strikes out against everyone, who doesn't care about any one group."
She pushes you to the floor, despite your skillful dodge out of the way. Leaning to your ear, you can only listen as she whispers into it. "...so why the hell would I care about a random guy that //just// showed up? That makes me soft in the eyes of the people that ''really'' run this place."
Quwertee stands, and struts over to her desk with confidence. "Do something that fits the kind of confidence you're trying to impress me with. Then we can talk."
[[You leave, thinking over what you could do to earn your confidence.|MoveOn]]
<<elseif $Swords >= 2 and $Wands >= 2 and $Coin >= 2>>You can't possibly out-confidence her, nor should you. She's probably the most confident, bold person on campus, there's not a huge chance that someone else being confident would impress her all that much. It might even come off as unearned to her.
This will take care, finesse, and a healthy amount of confidence. One unit of each, mix, then serve once cooled. "Look, I...think you're extremely beautiful," You begin, to which she smirks mightily, preparing to dismiss you as another sycophant. "...you're a brilliant silver bastion of self-assurance, bold as can be...but I think it gets lonely at the top."
She glares at you at that suggestion, the mere glance alone would shake most, but not you, not right now. Stand your ground. Reiterate. "You'd isolate yourself with reputation, and power, everyone would know about you, but no-one would actually //know// you. If you take a chance on me, I'd want to get to know that lonely girl."
Quwertee looks away for a moment, thinking, about what is uncertain. "You're wrong." She eventually says. "Everyone knows me, and everyone wants something from me. Fratbros are ''already'' adding me as a big challenge on their pledge-boards, because I'm not easy to fuck. The fratrorities want to recruit me, so that I won't target them if they do something I disagree with. All five of them have reached out to me. RAs are treading carefully around me, because I'm potential incarnate."
She peers deeply into your eyes, arms crossed. "So who the fuck do you think you are, to act like you also don't just want something from me?"
"I'm just the new guy." You say, unphased. "I'm not part of any fratrority, I barely know anyone so far...I didn't come to your room because I knew you lived in it. I came to your room because you're one of the people on my floor, and as RA I've got to get to know you."
She rolls her eyes, then shrugs. "Fine. Whatever. You're nobody? Good. If all you want is to just...talk, about me, then...sure, I'll humor you sometime. But you're basically a stranger, so...you'd have to do the same."
<<set $QWRTYAff to 1>>
That can be arranged. You almost suggest doing so now, but she's clearly not in the mood.
<<set $QWRTYTalk to true>>
[[You carefully get up, grab your journal, and enter the hall.|MoveOn]]
<<else>>You calm your nerves, and channel the inner power of confidence. A wellspring of self-assurance is at your fingertips, you are unstoppable. You give Quwertee a seductive gaze, working your magic on her with a superhero pose.
"...Don't look at me like that, loser." She says, crushing you with some kind of Swords-based psychic counterattack. "That kind of false-confidence only works on stupid people...or someone that already wants you. Which of those do you think I am?" She asks, trapping you in a lose-lose situation with her psychic prowess.
You don't know a lot about existing yet, but you do know that you should probably not call someone you want to flirt with stupid. That leaves only the one option. "...the kind that already wants me?" You ask, to which she laughs. "I know ''nothing'' about you! I know your name, that you're Rozzwell's replacement, and that you're a freshman. None of those things make you date-material to me, and they ''definitely'' don't make you one night stand material."
Maybe you should've just answered her question, or something...this went a way different direction than you ever would've guessed. You look dejected, and Quwertee isn't blind, so she obviously can tell. There's a slight sigh that exits her mouth. "...Look. I'm sure you're a...tolerable...guy, but not everyone's into the over-confidence thing. You've gotta have more going for you, or people might think you're over-compensating."
She pats you on the back a few times, before standing up. "Maybe you'll find a nice, easy girl to practice on instead. Or guy. I don't judge, or care, actually." Quwertee shrugs, before motioning toward her door. "I'm //definitely// not the girl to try to boost your confidence on."
Being dejected will bring you no further enlightenment of the self or others, and as such you have little choice but to leave.
[[Into the hall, to continue this bizarre day.|MoveOn]]
<</if>>"...Why does it bum you out?" You ask, in which at first you only get a sigh back. "Quwertee, why does it bum you out?" She grimaces, sits up, and flicks you on the forehead. Ow.
"It bums me out because I believe you." The silver beauty replies simply, a hand on her knee as she collects her thoughts. You blink a few times, sit up as well, and carefully grab the journal. "...Well, why do you believe me? I don't think I'd believe me." Quwertee balls up a fist, before answering, "Look. Stop asking so many questions. Alright? I believe you. Leave it at that."
You start to reply, but she just flicks you on the forehead again. Ow. You guard your forehead, before speaking, "Thanks for believing me. I don't know how much it changes my situation, but, knowing that someone else ''knows'' what's going on with me...it feels...good? Thank you."
The green-haired construct rolls her eyes, groaning. "I'm not here to be your therapist. Not your friend, not your little emotional support toy. What I did, it was...solely for ''my'' benefit." She smiles, seeming to find her emotional footing once more. "Yeah, it was, and if you cross me," She crosses her arms, and chuckles darkly.
<<set $QWRTYOC to true>>
"...I'll tell everyone you're fucking crazy. Because you are! Weird dreams, fake amnesia, new body...do you hear yourself talk!?" She exclaims, standing up and laughing loudly. "Got it, punk? Cross me, and your life here is over!" Quwertee beams with pride, and ego, and a general inability to open up to you in return.
[[Leave the room.|MoveOn]]"Yes...I'm...satisfied." You say, not wanting to break any bones today. Perhaps reasonable. The statue-girl chuckles darkly, before letting you go. You fall flat on your back once again, groaning as you feel your shoulders ache in thanks. Quwertee simply stands up, and sits at her desk.
<<set $QWRTYAff to 1>>
It doesn't take too long before you manage to stand, carefully grabbing your journal. You give Quwertee one more look, before deciding better of giving her another excuse to attack you. You'll get 'em next time, tiger.
[[Leave this place.|MoveOn]]"No. I'm not satisfied. There's more to you than this." You reply, to which she releases you, and stands. She moves overtop you with frightening speed for someone made of metal, leaning down to grab you anew. She //yanks// you to your feet, then slaps your face harshly. It stings like hell, and her hand is cool against your skin.
"Leave. Get the fuck out. If you don't, I'm going to do a lot worse than slap you." Quwertee's golden eyes glare bullets at you, soft green hair somewhat out of shape from her rapid movements. She releases you, and removes her hand from the side of your face.
Well?
[[Leave this place.|MoveOn]]
[[Stop running.|QWRTYFLIRTCoinNORUN]]Since you weren't really running before, you figure that option refers to Quwertee. "You can't threaten me away, I want to get to know you, the actual you, the one you're so afraid of sharing. Stop running from yourself."
For what it's worth, she does not immediately break your ribs, but rather freezes in place. She shakes a little bit, clearly not anticipating you being //this// hellbent on digging deeper. It doesn't last long, however, as she balls her hand into a fist. "I was an only child." She says, gripping your arm dangerously tightly.
<<set $QWRTYPast to true>>
You stare into her furious golden eyes, and she averts her gaze. "Don't look at me like that, fuckhead. No more questions. I'm talking now. You want to hear about the //real me?//" She flexes her arm, causing yours to bend painfully. She relaxes, and the awkward bending stops. "You got it." She says, chuckling.
"Mom and dad fought, a ton. Then mom died. Then dad did too. I didn't have any family, they came from Italy, left their old life behind to raise me. I grew up on the streets through high school. It made me strong. Helped me to understand my place in the cosmos."
You have no idea why, but you can almost physically see a strange flickering image of a park bench, a bus, the beach...just sort of superimposed atop everything, everything but you and her. "Life's about strength and weakness. You can be strong, or you can be weak. People aren't born strong or weak. You have to choose. If I was weak, I would've just given up and died on those streets, or on that beach..." You can hear waves, and breaking glass.
"But I was strong. People tried to assault me, or mug me, on those streets, in the big city. But I was stronger than them, too. If I was weak, I'd have settled into that routine, beating the fuck out of anyone in my way, ruling those streets..." She smiles warmly. "...but I didn't. I worked my ass off, I saved, and I was strong enough to follow through with going to this place."
<<set $QWRTYAff to 1>>
"I'll be the strongest here, too. Push and pull in this stupid social web, with the fratrorities, with the faculty, with the dorms." She beams with pride. "...Why here?" You ask, to which she bends your arm uncomfortably again. "I don't owe you that answer."
She stretches a little bit, yawns, then releases you. "If you tell anyone any of that, I'll skip you like a stone across that lake in town. Then I'll do it again, to make sure you ''actually'' realize it was stupid. Since you seem a little stubborn."
<<set $QWRTYTalk to true>>
You can't really stay after a girl says she'll skip you like a stone, so you choose to leave. At least you know more about her, even if you get the feeling that was also still partly a facade.
[[To the hall, then.|MoveOn]]"...complicated. I think she's really bunched up and complicated." You say, and Rozzwell just shrugs slowly. "Yeah...I guess I can see it. You don't push so hard against intimacy and friendship unless you've got some serious baggage...can't say it excuses her shitty attitude, though." He yawns, then blinks.
<<set $RozzAff to 1>>
"...anyway, no matter what you see in her, remember that as RA you're treating her the same as anyone else...can't make exceptions for people off of a vibe." Rozzwell thinks for a bit, before motioning toward room 208. "...no exceptions. If you decide to enforce some rule on someone on the floor, gotta do it for everyone...Alright?" He asks, to which you nod.
"...cool." He says, before slinking off toward your dorm room. "If you need me, I'll be in here...good luck." And then he enters your collective lair. Well, since 204 is presumably still empty, that leaves 208...
[[Knockity knockity.|208]]"...the worst. She's really cruel, for no reason." You say, to which Rozzwell just shrugs slowly. "I was going to say a huge bitch...But I guess she's also still a first-year...Maybe she'll change once she feels comfortable here...Or not." He yawns.
Rozzwell blinks a few times, before remembering what he was talking about. "Right...well, even if you don't like her, she's on your floor, so...you still gotta check in on her. Same as everyone else. Same as 208." The pale RA lazily stretches, before motioning toward the room in question. "...don't make exceptions, okay?" He asks you, to which you nod.
"Alright. I'm gonna be in the room. Be smart, new guy." He says with a very tired smile, before slinking away, into his lair. Since 204 is very probably still empty, that just leaves the mysterious room 208 to talk to.
[[Knock Knock Knock|208]]Knock. Knock. Then the door opens, and you're hit with a //wave// of perfume and the scent of bubblegum. The inside of room 208 is obfuscated by a thick fog of swirling pink, from which a very curvy silhouette struts out. A short, green-skinned woman peers up at you with what looks to be a lollipop in her mouth. Her electric-blue hair has a few bangs that she moves out of her eyes as she examines you.
"I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me, Mister RA." She says with a smile, briefly removing the lollipop to twirl the stick between her fingers. You open your mouth to introduce yourself, before being hit with a familiar sensation of informational overload. Your eyes are assailed with numbers and letters, ''STATS.''
''THE QUEEN OF COIN''
''WANDS: 3''
''SWORDS: 3''
''COIN: 10''
''CUPS: 1''
With time already paused, you could take the moment to [[look at her in more detail.|SleanneLook1]] Or you could just [[proceed.|MeetSleanne]]Your wish is my command. Time is already frozen, so it cannot grind to a halt. Your eyes hyperfocus on the attractive goblin woman before you. She stands at about crotch-height, and even in stopped time, you can hear her faintly humming some forgotten siren's tune. Unnerving in the otherwise soundless space that is stopped time.
As stated prior, her flawless skin is <span style="color:#50C878">green in coloration, which lines up with her being a goblin.</span> The pointed ears help reaffirm this fact, as well as her rather short height.
Her soft hair goes down just below her shoulders, <span style="color:#00f0ff">a sharp electric-blue, with beautiful bangs that she likely has to move from her eyes.</span> The eyes in question are <span style="color:#9b111e">beautiful wellsprings of ruby red that can do no wrong.</span> Around her eyes lay a wide variety of eye-beauty-enchantments (makeup) that you don't know the names of.
Her plump lips have a generous amount of lipstick covering them, making them <span style="color:#710193">a deep purple.</span> Those lips are definitely where the humming is coming from, but they remain motionless despite the noise.
She's wearing a long black hoodie, that's partially unzipped. Just beneath that hoodie appears to be a <span style="color:red">red tanktop that's cut low enough for you to easily see her cleavage.</span> As far as cleavage goes, this girl's is extensive. Her breasts are large and plentiful, but not cartoonish. Tearing your eyes away from those beautiful green breasts, you continue downward.
The hoodie goes down a ways, covering her body to about her upper thigh. Just below that you can see that she's wearing <span style="color:red">equally red leggings, to match her top.</span> They hug and hold her wide hips tightly, and if her breasts were plentiful, then her rear is moreso. A big, round bubbly thing that's partially hidden by the hoodie.
Once you stop shamelessly staring at her body, you return to clothing. Her shoes are simple slip-on things, black as the night sky. As far as miscellaneous details go: she's got a little locket hanging from her neck, in the vague shape of an eye. She also smells like bubblegum and perfume, and currently has a still-wet lollipop held between her fingers by its stick.
[[An enlightening description, thank you.|MeetSleanne]]You blink a few times as time resumes, with the extremely attractive goblin-girl staring up at you. "...So," She says, patting you on the knee a few times, "Wanna get to know each other, or did you just come over to say hello?"
You begin to introduce yourself, but she chuckles a little, before shaking her head. "Don't be a stranger, come on in." She motions, and the pink fog seems to part behind her like a curtain, revealing a red-carpeted room. You shrug, and head in, politely closing the door behind yourself.
Room 208 has just one bed, a huge, massive bed, with extremely comfortable looking black bedding. There are still two dressers, however, and decorating the walls seem to be a variety of theater masks, posters of popular gnomish actress Miriamma Fizzlebonk, and some posters of singers that you don't know the name of.
"Welcome to my room, Mister RA. Not many get to see me lazing about in here, but you get to be a...special exception." She says with a smile, putting the lollipop back into her mouth. Soon she's hopped up onto her bed, seated comfortably upon its edge, to which the blankets deform appropriately for someone with as big of an ass as her's.
"I'm $name." You say, which causes her to giggle a little. "Names, huh? Welllll...I'm Sleanne. It's a good name to know, in case you need to call it out for some reason." She plants her hands firmly behind her on the bed as she sits. You blink a few times. Wait a minute.
That was flirtation! It takes all of your inner-strength not to exclaim that, as the shortstack goblin just sits and plays with that lollipop of hers. "Tell me about yourself, $name." She says, taking charge of the conversation. That's not how this normally goes.
[[You tell her about yourself.|Sleanne1]]"...Well," You begin, "I'm $name. I'm the RA that'll be replacing Rozzwell when he's gone, I'm a first-year, but you probably already knew that part." You make unstoppable eye-contact with her as you speak, and she does the same. "Where're you from?" She asks, to which you stiffly answer, "Weast-Wald." That definitely isn't true.
"Oh, touchy subject, I guess..." She says, before twirling that lollipop around some more. "...Hmmm...anything you needed from me, Mister RA?" Sleanne asks before slowly running her tongue around that lollipop. The goblin gives you a wink, and slurps noisily. This is no longer subtle.
Despite it being more appropriate here than any other time you have had the option, you physically cannot bring yourself to flirt with this woman right now. You get the feeling that this is tied to the fact that she's practically coming onto you already.
[[Ask about her like she did to you.|SleanneCoin1]]
[[What does she know about the campus?|SleanneCups1]]
[[Hyperfixate on that cool locket she's wearing.|SleanneWands1]]
[[How come she gets a solo-room?|SleanneSwords1]]<<set $Coin to $Coin + 1>>You stare at her, in her flirtatious position, and decide to get to know her. Not in a flirty way, mind you. "Where're you from?" You ask, to which she simply tells you, "East Iowa, this little town called Il'eth Kithnd...which means 'Perfect Gem' in dragon."
Huh. Dragons exist, apparently. And East Iowa, whatever an Iowa is. "So...tell me about yourself." You continue, mirroring her questions back at her. Once again, Sleanne seems utterly unphased, and answers with no thought at all. "I'm not a very tricky gal to understand, I think." She begins.
The green-skinned gal lays on her back, spreading her arms out as far as she can on her expansive bed. "I'm in college for Business, like some of the real hard workers in Z.Z.Z. But I don't work nearly so hard." She crunches hard on her lollipop, swallowing the candy shards without a second thought. Sleanne absent-mindedly tosses the leftover stick into a nearby bin.
That bin is ''filled'' with lollipop sticks, as well as a bunch of random papers. "I'm a real people person, ya know? I like figuring out what makes 'em tick, momma thought I'd be a Psych Major. Wasn't in the cards, though." For some reason she snickers after saying that. "...I'm a third-year, I like the color red, I have one sister and three brothers...I know everyone worth knowing..."
"...Does that make //me// worth knowing?" You ask, to which she smiles sweetly, all while rolling around onto her stomach. She looks up at you, as you just awkwardly stand in place. She nods. "Sure. Like I said, I'm a people person. I know potential when I see it. You'll be worth keeping an eye on."
Interesting. You rack your brain for more random things to ask about her, but are interrupted as she unwraps another lollipop and gets to work. Blinking up at you, she takes it out of her mouth, and offers it to you, moistened. "Want a taste?" She asks, with a little smile.
[[Accept the shortstack's lollipop.|SleanneProgressing1]]
[[Don't take candy from strangers.|SleanneEgress1]]"...What do you know about campus? Any important people?" You ask, to which Sleanne nods. "Oh, I know plenty, everyone worth knowing, anyways...unless you meant the boring history, I don't know that stuff, skipped my guided tour like you apparenty did too."
<<set $Cups to $Cups + 1>>
The green-skinned beauty taps her chin a few times, before biting through her lollipop, and swallowing candy shards with no hesitation. "There's five fratrorities, lame people will say their greek letters...Triple Z, X-O-X, BADs, House KEK, A-K-T. The best parties are with BADs, bonus points if it's in their sexy mansion." She discards the lollipop stick, quickly laying on her side.
<<set $KnowsFrats to true>>
Not content to speak for so long without another sweet treat, she begins to work on suggestively sucking a new lollipop. <<if $NedalCampus is true>>You speak up, "I already know about the five fratrorities. Nedallia told me." The goblin chuckles a little to herself at that, eye rolling a tad. "Yeah, well, Nedallia's the president of AKT, so I can bet she painted her own very biased picture."
"...but I'll just tell ya the interesting stuff. Save us both some time, eh?" She laps at her lollipop as she thinks. "Triple Z doesn't do parties, but they're all //super// pent-up, all the time, so if you keep your eyes open...you might find one of them at someone else's party." She chuckles a bit again.
"X-O-X somehow gets away with basically being girls-only, with some...small exceptions. Huge parties, basically weekly, but there's no faster rumor mill than X-O-X. And they remind me of a cult...this purple chick named Su leads them."
"The BADs are adrenaline junkies, blossoming alcoholics, sex-crazed party animals." She traces her fingers along her top, smirking. "...nothing wrong with that last part, but they also usually have shitty attitude syndrome. Real dick-heads." She snorts, before continuing. "Miller's in charge of them, a little."
"KEK's...interesting. Someone started a rumor that there's crazy chicks in it, but I can think of like one, and she's actually bonkers. It's mostly future drop-outs that want to 'win' against every other fratrority. So they throw parties sometimes too, by their..." She sighs. "''Queen'', Checkers."
"AKT is boring, a bunch of creatives mostly keeping to themselves until they graduate. Used to have a really bad drug problem, though, which is way more interesting than anything they do now..."<<else>>"...to go into more detail, I guess," She begins, to which you listen, not at all entranced by how she's working at that lollipop.
"Triple Z are a bunch of overworked overachievers that don't usually have great home lives. Their motto is 'Never Sleep Until Completion', which isn't as sexy as you might think at first...they don't throw parties, and just bulldoze their way through college, content to be sad little bored things. Most of them, anyway, I know there's some that can't take the pressure and crack in...fun ways."
"You almost sound like you //want// them to mess up." You observe, to which Sleanne smiles mischeviously at you. "I'm just saying, it isn't realistic to pretend like you //never// need to sleep, or that with enough focus, you get to just not be a person with needs...overworked people need a release, no matter what they pretend. I just like being proven right."
Fair enough. "...Let's see...X-O-X gets to break the rules and only let in girls, or really feminine guys, don't ask why. Led by a girl named Su...They throw killer parties, but won't party ''anywhere'' but their house. Their motto is 'Together We Rise', which is great, girl-power, or whatever...but they also act like a fucking cult. And spread ''nasty'' rumors."
"What makes them so cult-y?" You ask, which prompts Sleanne to remove the lollipop and twirl it around between her fingers. "Every fratrority has old rules from old blood, matching outfits, some kind of backwards policy, that's just the usual." She peers into your eyes. "I swear, they all wake up at the exact same time. It's like a twisted, sexy group of nuns. Same breakfast, same lunch, same dinner. They might even have the same fucking schedule..."
Sleanne shakes her head, before recollecting herself. "The BADs...no-one parties as hard as them, and no-one's gonna die from liver disease as fast as them. The brightest flames burn out the fastest, I guess. Their current president's a dude named Miller." She smiles as she thinks. "...no relation to the town, I don't think. A bunch of guys, mostly, but they have their share of chicks in there, equally as likely to die from alcohol poisoning."
"They throw huge parties, but just //hate// that the 'girl house' won't party with them on their terms. Their motto is 'Family Comes First', which is one of three of their redeeming qualities...if you're in their fratrority, where you're 'family'." She pauses to wait for you to ask her something, but you don't, so she just continues onward.
"KEK House, they really ''get'' this whole college thing, I think. They don't care about it at all, and they'll all be in debt forever after they drop out." Ice cold. "...but while they //are// here, they make sure to have a lot of weird stupid fun with everything. Some strange person started a rumor that there's crazy chicks in KEK, but there's just the one 'crazy chick'."
"KEK's motto is 'We Win', which is less meaningful than anyone else's, but //way// funnier." Sleanne lays on her back, reaching out for the stars as she stretches. "It lines up with their attitude, though, they really do try to one-up every other house...their president's a girl called Checkers."
"AKT is simple. Their motto is 'Bonds Stronger than Brass', which is cute. If you play an instrument, or do something 'creative', they'll probably accept you. Or if you're rich. They're ''really'' hurting for funding, which is hilarious, because they were one of the powerhouses on campus before going clean."
You raise an eyebrow. "Going clean? From what?" You ask, to which the goblin-girl chuckles to herself. "Just, everything, man...Oh, the things I could've shown you, if it were still my first year...No, they got sloppy, and a little halfling wanted a power grab. Now they're boring...and run by Nedallia."
<</if>>
Sleanne seems satisfied with her explanation of the various houses on campus, and, with somewhat flirty eyes, she offers you her lollipop, still wet. "...There's more to campus than the houses, but they're the loudest part." She just holds it there, waiting. "...there's fun stuff, too."
[[Take it.|SleanneProgressing1]]
[[Don't.|SleanneEgress1]]It's ''really'' easy to stare in the direction of her locket, for some reason, maybe because of its proximity to her low-cut top and big jiggly breasts. "Cool locket." You say, but she just crunches into her lollipop and swallows. Withdrawing the little paper stick, she stares at you. "Thanks."
<<set $Wands to $Wands + 1>>
She doesn't even say anything after that, so you have to ask. "What's the deal with the locket?" Sleanne blinks a few times, looks up at you, and tosses the paper lollipop stick into a tiny trash bin filled with them. "My dad gave it to me, before he died. To let me know he's always watching over me...and also because he didn't have a son to give it to."
Oh. That's heavier than you were expecting from a cool neck-decoration. Sleanne unwraps another lollipop, and gets to work. "Not that he didn't have a son, he had three, but none of them came to his death-bed." She laughs. "Honestly, sometimes I think his eyes just weren't working by that point, and he just sort of held it out for whoever to take it. Maybe he wanted someone to burn it."
She shrugs, and turns onto her stomach, kicking her feet slowly back and forward. You have no idea how to respond to the concept of death yet, but it seems like her father's death is more of a simple fact than something she's sad about. "It //is// a pretty bauble, though, so, it's probably best that I got it. Good conversation starter, too, apparently." She winks up at you while sucking suggestively.
She soon takes the lollipop out of her mouth, and offers it to you with a slight grin.
[[May I see the inside of your locket?|SleanneLocket0]]
[[Take the woman's lollipop.|SleanneProgressing1]]
[[Do neither of these things.|SleanneEgress1]]"How come you get a room all to yourself? That makes at least two people now." Both of which seemed to assail your sight by being the ''QUEEN OF'' something. Probably a coincidence. "Huh? Oh, yeah." She says, before proceeding, "My family makes huge donations to this tiny town for tax write-off purposes, so I get whatever I want."
<<set $Swords to $Swords + 1>>
You blink a few times, as she seems to take immense pride in your confused stare. Sleanne chomps clean through her lollipop, swallowing sweet candy chunks while you just stand there. She turns onto her back, and stares up at the ceiling, while producing and unwrapping another lollipop.
The previous paper stick is lost to a bin on the floor nearby, filled with paper sticks and loose pages. "...How's that work?" You ask, as Sleanne lollipops anew. "Old blood, rich blood. I honestly don't know how you don't know this..." She looks at you with slight suspicion, but drops it. "Super old deals with dragons for their oil and magical crystals, some dead guy that was related to me killed a dragon. Then he became one of the richest men in history, because he could kill dragons, and they don't like being killed, like anyone else."
"Did he just...kill a bunch of dragons?" You ask, to which she shakes her head. "Nah, but other dragons paid him not to kill them. Imagine, you're essentially a demigod, then this fuckin' goblin guy just kills one of you...you'd be terrified!" She laughs, then seems to pay careful attention to your reaction. You nod in agreement.
"...since you somehow don't know about my family, let me tell you a little secret, as a show of friendship." She says with a little grin, stretching her legs out a bit. "C'mere." She beckons you, laying lazily. You approach her at the foot of her bed, where her legs hang a little. You lean to hear her secret. Soon she's wrapping her legs around your back, and pulling you to where your faces nearly touch. Her thighs are very squishy.
//"Some mean historians think he was a fraud."// She says...seductively? The green gal pouts a little bit. Her breath smells of bubblegum flavored sweetness, as she holds you there for a while longer. She stares up into your eyes, and offers you her lollipop, trailing it along your lips.
[[This is a rational escalation. Take the lollipop.|SleanneProgressSwords]]
[[Disentangle Posthaste.|SleanneEgressSwords]]<<set $Lipstick to true>>You accept the blue-haired babe's lollipop, taking it between your fingers. You try to twirl it like she did, but it just flies out of your hand and nearly falls to the ground. Before it can land, however, Sleanne catches it with a quick stretch. She chortles to herself a little, before standing as tall as she can on her bed, and placing her candy into your mouth.
It tastes strongly of bubblegum and sugar, and Sleanne watches with great focus as you experimentally taste and swirl your tongue around your first sweet treat. She places her hands on your shoulders from her newfound bed-assisted height, and puts her mouth by your ear. With a devious nibble, she whispers.
//"Wouldn't it be nice to have some help finding the real fun in this place?"// You shudder a little, as her voice takes on a ''very'' sultry tone, and as she gently takes the lollipop from your mouth. Before sitting back down, she kisses along your neck, leaving messy lipstick marks behind. She lewdly slurps on her candy, and flutters her eyes. "Real fun?" You ask.
"Mmmmm...you taste //good,// Mister RA." She moans a little bit, brushing the bangs from her eyes so that she can peer upward at you. "There's a //lot// more to college than studying and being an RA. If you want, I could always...help you." She runs the dripping wet lollipop along her cleavage, disregarding the stickiness involved with such an act.
"But...I'd want some help in return." She says with an innocent smile. "What are you asking for?" You query, resulting in her giving you the treat once more, which you take and taste. "Diplomatic immunity, Mister RA." She says in a loving tone. "I just want to have fun, like anyone else. I'd hate to get in trouble over that...so, if you promise not to tattle on me, I'd love to take you under my wing."
She makes it sound reasonable, and her gorgeous red eyes could do no wrong. As you contemplate, she flicks her wrist, conjuring a pen from thin air. She trades it to you for her lollipop. "It'd be a lot easier getting to parties with my help, y'know? All I ask is that you sign, and keep that little promise." You briefly consider where you could sign, but the line of spit that she's dragged along her cleavage provides great inspiration.
[[Sign the green shortstack's breasts.|PactSealedB]]
[[You feel like Rozzwell said something earlier...remember whatever that was.|Remembre?]]Ancient fey folklore says you shouldn't take candy from strangers, you think. No matter how attractive and large-breasted the stranger may be. Even if you know the stranger's name. You might not know what a stranger is. You shake your head gently at her offer, and she shrugs.
<<set $SleanneAff to 1>>
"Suit yourself, Mister RA. I'll finish it all by myself." Sleanne says, making direct eye-contact as she slurps and laps at her lollipop. This is doing bad things to your pants, so you begin to back away slowly. You can't really tear your eyes away, so it's more of an awkward backwards stroll in the vague direction you came from rather than a proper retreat.
"If you," She laps at the lollipop, interrupting herself, "...need anything, you know where to find me." As you press your back against the pink fog, she crunches through the candy, sticking her tongue out to show you the sticky sweetness on it. That's probably not purposeful suggestive imagery.
With a wiggle of her fingers, the fog parts, and you leave this place, having met every room on your floor.
[[Into the hallway once more!|PassageName]]"May I see whatever's inside of the locket?" You ask, to which Sleanne just slowly puts the lollipop back into her mouth. She seems to think for a few moments, before shrugging, and opening it up for you. Your eyes //should// be distracted and drawn to the fat green titties that the locket lays open upon, but instead your eyes are frighteningly glued to the inside of the eye-shaped-locket.
<<set $Locket to true>>
<<if $EI >= 1>>The feeling is familiar, yet distinct. It's happening again, you're digging deep into another. This is something dangerous and insightful. And you simply can't pull your eyes away.<<else>>The feeling is foreign and strange, your eyes cannot free themselves from the interior of this locket, no matter what you do. You're falling.<</if>>
<span style="color:gray">//You're in a grand ball room, with gorgeous wooden flooring, in a black dress.//</span> You can hear faint music playing, as if from a music box, but it's nowhere to be seen. No-one else is here but you, but you can hear muffled talking. Life was perfect, life was care-free, why do you struggle? What drives you?
There is a comedy mask on the floor as you walk. It peers up at you and laughs, uncontrollably. <span style="color:#B2FBA5">''"Silly girl."''</span> The rattling of chains is audible, but you can't see them, only feel that they're closing in. The mask hovers off of the ground, simply laughing as you bat it away rapidly. The music box is louder, you can hear distant humming, growing nearer. ''Run.''
You sprint, as fast as your little legs can take you, but smash into a mirror, sending glassy shrapnel everywhere. Your reflection hates you, you'd leave it here? You'd be so selfish? It grabs at you, from thousands of shards of glass, ripping and tearing your dress, your skin, clawing into you, pulling you down. The mask peers down at you, placed overtop the portrait of a dead man. ''"It isn't proper, silly girl."''
Your reflection tugs and tears at your hair as you struggle, your flesh bubbles and morphs partly into glass, it's comfortable to be made of glass, it's soothing, and calm, and lovely.<span style="color:#B2FBA5"> If you'd only be glass, you'd be happy, and perfect.</span> But you ''hate'' it, because you're <span style="color:#FFFFC5">''wrong''</span>. You kick free from your reflection, and break the glass off of your skin, screaming in pain and liberation.
You hurry through the hallway, as paintings laugh at you, scold you, throw ink all over you. Their features melt into a stew of oil and blood. The chains are almost here, you have to leave fast. You burst into your room, panting, sweating, as unseen chains constrict you by the neck. You're lifted off of your feet, unable to breathe, as the comedy mask stares powerfully into your eyes. Its form is made of dripping oil, it begins to sing hauntingly.
''"Surrounded by jewels,''
''not a chirp,''
''for old rules,''
''we don't usurp.''
''In my dollhouse, you will stay.''
''And just like <span style="color:#FF3333">Father</span>, waste away."''
[[Thrash and writhe.|SleanneWake]]The lollipop tastes sweet on your lips, and soon it tastes sweet in your mouth as you part your lips. Her smile intensifies, and soon she's pulling your shirt off of you. "So...you didn't come here //just// to get a degree, to be some RA, did ya?" She asks while tossing your shirt to the side.
You blink a few times. You're pretty sure that was the reason that you originally came to college, but honestly, you aren't sure. Sensing your hesitation, she laughs. "Well, even if ya //did,// there's a lot more than class here...you could have a ''lot'' of fun, a guy like you." She runs her nails along your back, while holding you there with her thighs.
<<set $Lipstick to true>>
She smoothly takes the lollipop back from you, and gives it a long, sensual lick. "How do you mean?" You ask, only immensely turned on by everything she's doing to you right now. "Mmm...tastes //good.//" She moans gently, making searing eye-contact with you. "Since ya asked..." She unzips her hoodie, and pulls her tank top off.
She sweetly guides your hands along her stomach, then up to her deep black bra. Your hands are quick to grope and squeeze the bountiful breasts held tightly by that infernal contraption, which you could never hope to know how to undo. "Gosh, so eager..." Her smile intensifies, an occasional shudder overtaking her body as you work at her squishy breasts.
"...A favor for a favor, new guy." She pulls your body down to hers, and lays kisses along your neck. Those lipstick marks will need to be washed off later. "What do you want?" You ask, trying to keep a cool head against overwhelming odds. It's a good thing her crotch only reaches your stomach from this angle, otherwise your willpower might be crumbling a fair bit faster. The slow, methodical grinding she's doing against your body doesn't help.
"I don't get in any official trouble under your watch, and I'll show ya the //real// fun to be had here." She pulls back, and stares longingly into your eyes. She's really good at this, your mind is hazy, and your cock is eager to pound goblin pussy. With as little effort as snapping her fingers, a pen conjures in her hand. She offers it to you with a gentle smile.
"Just sign, and it's a deal. There's no-one better to take you under their wing than me, new guy." There's no contract present, but based on how she's presenting her breasts to you, there's only one place you're gonna sign.
[[Sign your name on this goblin's titties with a magical pen.|PactSealed]]
[[Think about something Rozzwell said earlier.|Remember?]]You pull away from her, twice, and then she releases your back. She puts on a show of pouting a little, then quickly snickers to herself. "Not into fast and loose, new guy?" She asks, and you nod. "Not like this, at least." You say, causing her to smirk. "That's alright, but most guys would ''kill'' for me to tease them like that. Money aside."
The girl stretches out some more. "...Well, if ya need me, I'm here. In the evening, anyway. I actually have class in a few." Huh. "You're actually here for the degree, not to just...hang out, being so rich?" You ask, and she agrees. "Yeah, it's fulfilling to work for something, who'd have thought, eh?"
<<set $SleanneAff to 1>>
There's not much more to do right now, so you commit to leaving. The pink smog that fills the room gives you a little trouble, but with a simple flick of the goblin's wrist, it parts for you once more.
[[Leave this place.|PassageName]]You exit room 208, entering into a hall devoid of all but one figure. He leans against the wall opposite you, arms crossed as he stares forward. Despite his initial assurance that he was headed to your collective room, Rozzwell seems to have waited for you. His tired eyes seem to stare through you, then properly at you, up and down, carefully.
<<if $Lipstick is true>>His eyes linger on the lipstick stains on you, and his eyes seem a little bit more critical of you. "Please tell me you didn't..." He begins, crossing the hall in record time for a shambling hollow man. He stares down into your eyes, truly, deeply, stares into them. The pale fellow's hands gently guide your chin so you stare back.
<<else>>He just nods very slightly, and walks over to you. "I've been in your shoes before...that room, that room is hard." He smiles very, very slightly. "Very. Very hard. But you...you did it, I think. Made it through intact." Rozzwell peers downward into your eyes, deeply, for a moment, his sharp green soul-rifts focusing a little too hard on your own.<<set $RozzAff to $RozzAff + 1>>
<</if>>
<<if $Lipstick is true and $PactSealed is true and $Coin >= 2>>There's a strange, freaky jolt of lightning in your brain, and you flinch under his gaze. He deflates, sighing quietly. Rozzwell releases your chin, and shakes his head slowly. "...God damn it, $name..." He says, slowly sliding down the wall, then sitting limply on the floor.
"Look, I..." You begin, to justify your actions, or to apologize, or to lie, but Rozzwell just shakes his head slowly. "...once you get sick of it, I'll help you break outta whatever dumb shit you've gotten yourself into...but I'm not always gonna be here to bail you out of soul-contracts. You've gotta think with more than your dick." He just sits there, staring forward, eyes exhausted as ever.
There aren't good words for situations like this, especially since this is the guy you've gotta live with for the school year. You haven't even formally met him yet, and you're not making a great impression, apparently. He looks sad, and tired, but mostly disappointed. <span style="color:#B2FBA5">//He's not disappointed in you, not entirely. He seems disappointed with himself most of all.//</span>
"Can we...start over, properly meet each other?" You ask, ultimately not sure how else to proceed in a conversation like this. You've only practiced how to introduce yourself. Rozzwell chuckles a bit, shrugs, then stands right back up and waves hello to you.
[[Meet Rozzwell.|MeetRozzwell]]
<<elseif $Lipstick is true and $PactSealed is true>>There's a strange, freaky jolt of lightning in your brain, and you flinch under his gaze. He deflates, sighing quietly. Rozzwell releases your chin, and shakes his head slowly. "...God damn it, $name..." He says, slowly sliding down the wall, then sitting limply on the floor.
"Look, I..." You begin, to justify your actions, or to apologize, or to lie, but Rozzwell just shakes his head slowly. "...once you get sick of it, I'll help you break outta whatever dumb shit you've gotten yourself into...but I'm not always gonna be here to bail you out of soul-contracts...you've gotta think with more than your dick." He just sits there, staring forward, eyes exhausted as ever.
There aren't good words for situations like this, especially since this is the guy you've gotta live with for the school year. You haven't even formally met him yet, and you're not making a great impression, apparently. He looks sad, and tired, but mostly disappointed.
"Can we...start over, properly meet each other?" You ask, ultimately not sure how else to proceed in a conversation like this. You've only practiced how to introduce yourself. Rozzwell chuckles a bit, shrugs, then stands right back up and waves hello to you.
[[Meet Rozzwell.|MeetRozzwell]]
<<elseif $Lipstick is true>>He stares into your eyes for a full thirty long seconds, before eventually seeming satisfied, and gently releasing your chin. There's a sigh of relief, then a slow shaking of his head. "...you're playing with fire, but seem to have an even head on you."
You're not sure what that means, but you nod. "Yeah. You know me. Even-headed. I just...thought about what you said earlier, and..." He doesn't give you much more time to explain what happened, he just limply pats your shoulder a few times. Almost reassuringly. "...You did fine, man. No further explaining needed. Just be careful with people like her."
"People like her?" You ask, rubbing your neck a bit, and smudging lipstick all over your fingers. "...people like her. People used to getting what they want. If you stoke her flames, she'll get what she wants, signature or not." Rozzwell releases another sigh, before smiling very gently. "...Since you've met everyone already, let's actually meet each other now."
You scratch your head. "Were you waiting for me to finish doing all of this to actually talk with me?" Rozzwell nods. "...If you stayed in that room, or God forbid Quwertee's," He chuckles dryly, "for more than thirty minutes, I'd have just had you reassigned to another dorm...had to make sure you were worth the energy."
Oh. Well, it must be time to [[Meet Rozzwell.|MeetRozzwell]]
<<elseif $Locket is true>>"...you seem...shaken. Did something happen in there?" He asks, tone suddenly a lot more caring than you've heard him be all day. The pale man's standing just as dead inside looking as ever, but there's a certain focus to his gaze. "I'm...fine, everything's fine." You say.
"...no, you aren't...if she did something shitty to you, tell me. I can help." Rozzwell swiftly looks you over, making sure you're physically okay. When that turns up normal, he inhales, exhales. "...was it magic?" He asks, to which you shake your head no. The caring curly-haired guy shuts his eyes, and nods.
"...Alright. She's not the type to mentally scar people, so I'm gonna assume this is...something else." He says, before collecting his thoughts. "Let's put a pause on this, it's clearly not helping you to talk about it right now..." He's not wrong, your heart is beating increasingly faster as the events of The Locket replay in your mind over and over again.
"What if we focused on here, and now, instead?" You ask, desperate to bury all of that as deep as you can. Rozzwell nods. "That's one cure for a panic attack...alright. Let's properly introduce ourselves this time."
[[Meet Rozzwell.|MeetRozzwell]]
<<else>>He quickly stops his staring, seeming pleased. "...sorry, just had to make sure. You're made of tough stuff, $name. Or maybe short girls just don't do it for you." He shrugs, limply patting you on the shoulder a few times. "Thanks, I think?" You're pretty sure that you're made of the same stuff as everyone else. You don't want to have a crisis pondering the validity of that, though.
"I've gone through a few replacements this week...most got too stressed by the unique people on my floor...or hospitalized by Quwertee...or paid to leave by Sleanne...not you, though." Rozzwell laughs to himself, apparently in shock. "God, I think this could actually work out for once..."
"I'm glad you think so highly of me, man." You say, to which Rozzwell offers you the oft coveted high-five. You mimic his weird hand movement, and end up with your first high-five. Nice. "...Anyways, now that you made it past the testing phase, let's actually talk, new guy." Huh. Maybe the turnover rate is why he was a bit more distant earlier.
[[Meet Rozzwell.|MeetRozzwell]]<</if>>You wake up, hyperventilating, as a blackish fluid slops down from your eye sockets. Sleanne stares at you, clearly a bit concerned, but also absolutely unaware of your weird slop situation. She can't see it, and soon...neither can you. All gone, ''nothing odd here.''
<<set $EI to $EI + 1>>
The locket seems to have a photo of an old goblin man with vaguely similar features to Sleanne. She snaps her fingers in front of your face a few times, sitting up on her bed. "...You with me?" She asks, and you nod, slowly, then rapidly. "Jeez, you're seriously fucking shaken. Something happen?" You don't know how to answer that right now.
"I'm not overwhelming you with my sex-appeal, am I?" She says, apparently seriously. You shake your head slowly. She //is// quite attractive, though. "...Well," She begins, smiling wide when she notices you're looking in the direction of her breasts. The locket doesn't even cross her mind. She presses them together slowly, with her arms. "...if you're good to leave, I have this busy-work assignment to do, first-day of the semester stuff, you understand."
Then there's that mischevious smile of hers. "...unless you wanted to stay, for some reason?" You can't bring yourself to stay right now, whatever you just went through was way too much to be horny after witnessing. When she sees you headed for the door, she chuckles a bit.
<<set $SleanneAff to 1>>
"I'll be here most evenings, in case you wanna...hang." She parts the pink fog that's blocking the door from you, and you quickly exit.
[[There might be something seriously wrong with you, the journal didn't say shit about these visions.|PassageName]]You can see no possible reason not to write your name in as big of letters as possible along the beautiful cleavage presented to you. If you could remove her damn bra, maybe you'd write lower, but as-is there's a decent amount still accessible to your newfound pen. As you write, you find that your name comes out in a very fine cursive, bolded, and colored as gold. There's a flare of magic that fills the room, a gorgeous golden light, coming from your signature.
The glow fades, your name is no longer visible on her flesh unless you truly focus on seeing it.<<if $Wands >= 2>><span style="color:#FF3333"> //The pact is made, magic binds the both of you to your promise.//</span><</if>> Her eyes begin to roll back as her body tenses and twitches repeatedly. There's an extremely delighted look on her face as you feel an absolutely ''molten'' heat eminate from her crotch and against your stomach. Her legs tighten around you, as she slowly comes back down from whatever that was. "Ohhhh, I wish you felt that like I did, Mister RA...it felt //gooooood.//" Sleanne pants a few times, before recovering, and booping your nose.
<<set $SleanneAff to 1>>
"What was that?" You ask, but she just chuckles. "I bet you're feeling //very// pent-up and needy, am I right?" The goblin asks, making bedroom eyes at you. You nod slowly, onboard with potentially celebrating your deal the fun way. She pulls you down into her cleavage, squishing you against her bra.
<<set $PactSealed to true>>
"Get to my room tonight, let's say...eight. That'll be your first intro to <span style="color:#B2FBA5">fun.</span>" She runs her long nails through your hair a few times, before disentangling. "You don't wanna...y'know?" You say, gesturing in the vague direction of her crotch, then your crotch, like the finest of mimes. She chuckles gently, before shaking her head.
"You don't start with the best, buddy. I promised you fun, you'll have fun. You'll score tonight, or your money back." You can't really retort to that, having passionate post-deal sex wasn't really part of your arrangement. You can still feel a little teased, though, and you do so mightily.
She waves you off. "I'll see you then. Eight sharp. Wear something sexy, alright?" You nod in agreement, then make your way out of the room. It takes some time for your erection to go down, but it also takes time to exit, so, it works out.
[[To the hall, then.|PassageName]]//"No making exceptions for people, okay? No exceptions. Treat people equally. You need to not make exceptions. I'm asking you to not make exceptions for people. See you in the room later, don't forget to check your online schedule like that one elf said to do."// Most of that didn't sound like things he'd say at all, but you do remember the vague idea he was trying to tell you.
You stop remembering the past, and remember the present, in which a seductive green girl is holding a pen out for you to sign her titties with. Making a deal with her to essentially turn the other way for anything she does would probably go against that whole no exceptions thing.
On the other hand, this is just the want of one person versus the want of another. And only one of them is seducing you with promises of fun and forbidden desires, and the cool secret fun-stuff on campus.
[[Sign the titties like a rockstar.|PactSealed]]
[[Don't.|NoSign]]"Sorry, but I can't make exceptions for people on my floor." You say, making the partly accurate memory of Rozzwell proud. Sleanne stares at you like you're insane for a split-second, before hiding that in record time. She smiles sweetly at you, shrugs, and says, "No big deal, it's admirable that ya wanna forge out on your own, no sexy goblin guide needed." She crunches through her lollipop and swallows, placing the stick between your lips.
She swiftly disentangles from you, giving you a quick kiss on the chest that marks it with a messy kiss-mark. The gorgeous girl doesn't zip up her jacket, but she's clearly not going to keep up her teasing at this moment now that you've turned down her offer. "If ya need anything from me, I'm here in the evening most nights. Otherwise, it's classes...speaking of," She says, hopping off of her bed.
<<set $SleanneAff to 2>>
The way her butt jiggles as she lands is entrancing, half-covered by that hoodie, and held powerfully by her leggings. With a flick of her wrist, the fog by the door parts. "I'm supposed to do some first-day busy-work, so, you should probably get going." She bends over to pick up your shirt, side-eyeing you with a smirk as you stare helplessly.
Your shirt blocks your vision from the glorious view as it's thrown over your face, and it'd be impolite to sit in here with a cool shirt-mask, so you dress yourself, throw away the paper stick, and head out.
[[You exit, managing to not sign goblin breasts with a magic pen, and staying true to Rozzwell's wishes.|PassageName]]//"Why is my name spelled with Z's instead of S's? Is it normal in this world, or is that unique to me? You might ask me about that later. Also, check the school website so you know when your classes are. Am I cold and distant, or do I actually care about things? Oh, also, try not to make exceptions for people on your floor, that'd make you a really, really shitty RA."// Yes, that was probably what he said, in that exact order. That definitely doesn't sound like you misremembering his manner of speaking.
Your eyes refocus on the matter at hand. Right. You could sign those glorious goblin breasts, and agree to not get Sleanne in any trouble no matter what she does on your floor, //or// you could not do that. One of these options offers you parties and vague ''fun'', which probably means sex or drugs or games.
The other one offers you nothing other than making a memory pleased with you, and upholding your roommates' perceived duties as RA. And, you suppose, not being held to some vague promise.
[[Sign them.|PactSealedB]]
[[Do no such thing.|NoSignB]]With a shrug, you sign your name on what bits of exposed green cleavage are presented to you. Don't mind the sugary saliva you're writing through. As you write, the ink comes out as a vibrant gold, in a font quite unlike your handwriting. It's bold, and cursive, and soon you can't witness it as a blinding light fills the room.
When you're able to see again, the pen is gone, and so is your signature, hidden away except for when you squint your eyes. <<if $Wands >= 2>><span style="color:#FF3333">//Magic. Powerful magic. The pact is sealed, and now you are bound together by your respective promises.// </span><</if>>As your eyes adjust, you note that Sleanne's form is splayed out, twitching and spasming violently, to the point that you're briefly very, very concerned. Then her head briefly throws forwards, and you see that she's in some strange, spell-made state of ecstasy from whatever the two of you have just done.
<<set $PactSealed to true>>
Just to be safe, you take her lollipop from her, as she slowly seems to come down, wiping tears and sweat from her face. "Fffffuck, Mister RA..." She gasps for air, stretching mightily. "...if only you'd have felt the things I just felt...it was //bliiiiiisssss...//" The green gal lays still for a little while, regaining her senses, before eventually sitting up again.
<<set $SleanneAff to 1>>
"Ahhh...right...where were we..." She begins, but you're quick to remind her, "Showing me how to have fun?" Part of you wants to see if this is going in a sexual direction, especially since she looks like she just had a mind-blowing spellgasm. She chuckles to herself, before nodding. "<span style="color:#B2FBA5">Right. Fun.</span> Fun. Fun. Fun...swing by at eight, I'll escort you to the first party of the school year."
Huh. Neat. "Stick with me there, and I promise you'll get laid. Play your cards right, you might get more than laid." She wiggles her fingers mysteriously. You don't know what that means, but she's clearly not going to elaborate. You make your way to the door, and she parts the fog for you.
"Wear something sexy, it's your first party. Don't dress like, well, that." She vaguely gestures at you. How can she be so blind as to the might of a featureless black t-shirt?
[[Leave, and consider the existence of other clothing.|PassageName]]"That does sound fun, but, I shouldn't start making exceptions for people on my first day as RA-in-Training." You say, to which Sleanne looks somewhat shocked. That expression hides itself in record time, and she smiles instead. With a shrug, she chomps through her candy, and swallows swiftly. "Not a problem, Mister RA. Not a problem. It's more rewarding feeling to work for all of that fun stuff, anyways, I hear." She tosses the paper stick into the trash.
She doesn't turn mean now that you've turned down her offer, she just carries right along. "If you need me, I'm in most evenings. Most. Not all." She winks at you. "Probably not tonight, but check in sometime, Mister RA...in-training." She flicks her wrist, parting the fog by the door.
<<set $SleanneAff to 1>>
She watches you with interest, some strange, vague, interest, as you leave. You open the door, and wave goodbye to her like a child. She chuckles, then waves back.
[[Return to the hallway, having stayed true to the memory's wishes.|PassageName]]Next to you stands Rozzwell, the King of Cups. Whatever that means. The two of you stand, for a bit, outside of Sleanne's room, both collectively leaning against the wall like cool people. "I'm $name, but you knew that already." You say, to which Rozzwell shrugs. "Well. I'm Rozzwell. People call me Rozz for short..."
"What're you in college for?" You ask to him. "History. Then...I go to law school. Then...I become a lawyer. Maybe a congressman, when I'm one hundred..." He says all of this very dryly, as if it bores him. "...that's what mom wants, anyway. Maybe I'll disappoint her, and use my history degree for evil...how do you even do that?" The pale man produces a bit of chewing gum, and begins to chew.
"I have no idea." You respond. "Yeah...me neither...I didn't mean it anyway, so it hardly matters...Really, what I'm here for doesn't matter a whole lot...I'm gone soon anyways. Just riding it out at this point..." Then the dreaded question hits you back in the face. "...and you?"
"Arcane Theory..." You say with relative certainty, "...that's what I came here for, but...honestly, I think I'm just floating around so far, you know? There's no way I haven't missed my first class, we've spent a lot of the morning on this RA thing." Rozzwell nods slowly. "Yeah...sorry about that, man...But I really, really needed to make sure you'd stay. The school's breathing down my neck at this point, they ''need'' someone else for this floor when I'm gone."
"Why are they getting on your case over that, isn't the RA a school thing?" You ask, watching as he slowly unleans, and shambles over to your room. "This floor's special...maybe you guessed...they put the volatile, weird ones here. It was my idea, so it's on me to pass on the responsibility."
Huh. "Your idea?" He nods in response to your question, leading you into the room. He turns on the lights, and lays on the ground, staring up at the ceiling. You join him. "I'm a very different guy than I was my first year, $name...I wanted to change things, call the shots, and I did. I won. But the end of every tale of triumph has the day, the month, the year after..." Rozz runs a hand through his curly black hair, face cold and neutral in regards to the past.
"I'm tired, $name. So, so tired...once I'm gone from here, I'm not looking back...whether I collapse the moment I touch my diploma, or eighty years from now from a lawyer-related stabbing...I'll get my rest once I'm out of here...but I have to do the dance, survive one last year, before my freedom."
That's a heavy way of looking at it. He turns his green eyes to peer into you. "I hate leading the convo...your turn." It's your turn, then. But what to discuss...
[[Ask about his school-related past.|RozzCups1]]
[[Talk about all the weird people you've met today.|RozzCoin1]]
[[Is he wearing a band's shirt?|RozzWands1]]
[[Who calls the shots now?|RozzSwords1]]<<set $Cups to $Cups + 1>>"You've definitely done a lot here, Rozz...you should tell me about that a lot you've done." You say, organically. He turns his head to face you, trying to read your intention, before ultimately shrugging. "...You talk like you're wearing a wire all the time. Everyone has a different story for me, so you're cheating yourself a little bit of college magic..." There's a small smile at that fact, something he takes pride in, perhaps.
"...what do you wanna know?" He asks, prompting you to think for a split second. "Uhh...what's the craziest thing you've done?" The pale fellow doesn't even need to think about that one, he just starts talking. "Picture this...a guy at the top of his class, his life ahead of him, pre-planned from his birth. One year from graduation. Well, he falls for the girlfriend of House KEK's president at the time..."
"This isn't one of those stories where it's you the whole time, is it?" You ask. Rozz shakes his head. "No, this guy's name was James. He graduated a while ago...But it's funny that you think I was ever the top of the class..." He shakes his head again, before continuing, "...he wants this girl more than anything, but his family, his fratrority, everyone, is telling him that she's bad news."
"I wanted to make a name for myself, walk around like I was //the// guy, so I found this girl, and asked her what she thought about all of this. She laughed, and laughed, and laughed...then said that she'd do it, if I could sneak her out of the house during their next party. Not too hard, since House KEK's parties have always sucked a bit..."
You can hear laughter, and drinking, and stamping of feet. Rozzwell doesn't, however...nor does he see the spinning, dancing silhouettes of people celebrating along the walls around you. "...it was her birthday. She wanted me to sneak her out on her own birthday. I did my best, but I'm not a magician. The guy that wanted her had showed up, he professed his love to her, like idiots do..."
"...the guys of House KEK grabbed the bats that were meant for the party, and started beating the absolute fuck out of the poor guy." You watch as the silhouettes shift and change, smashing baseball bats against a crumpled figure, while an attractive silhouette watches, and laughs noisily. "I should've ran, probably...but like I said. I wanted to be //the// guy."
Rozzwell's shadow stands up from underneath him, facing the fellows with their baseball bats, and with hand clenched, punches the biggest guy in the jaw. "They kept beating me, but y'know what? They stopped beating him." Like clockwork, the silhouettes take turns smashing bats overtop his shadow, but there's a dull pink glow that overtakes it every time.
"I just...kept punching. That was around when I learned about my affinity for healing magic." Over and over, as bats splinter and break, as the man on the ground crawls away, as the shadow just keeps punching, that same pink glow emits. Until, ultimately, his shadow limps away, leaving a laughing feminine silhouette alone to pick up the pieces. The silhouettes fade from your view, as the story ends. "It hurt like hell." Rozzwell says simply, in place of a moral.
"I...wow. That was...cool of you." You mention with slight wonder, but the black-haired RA shrugs limply. "...it was either that story or the one where I tried to fly off stage mid-performance." You're about to ask him about whatever that is, but he shakes his head slowly. "...later, maybe. If you catch me at the right time. That story sucks for me to relive...you also need to check your schedule, I think."
[[Oh, he raises a good point, actually.|CheckClasses]]<<set $Coin to $Coin + 1>>"You weren't wrong about this floor having weird people on it, Rozzwell...there were creepy twins, a skeleton chef, everything about Quwertee...I didn't know before now that clowns were real, I thought I was making that up." Rozzwell looks over at you briefly, before nodding stiffly. "Let's not get in the habit of calling the people here weird...you and I are just as weird, y'know?"
Part of you wants to defend yourself, but he's not wrong. You're weird as hell, and it shows on your face. "...don't think of weird as so negative, man...it's best not to be the cookie-cutter normal person." You sigh, "What's wrong with normal?" The RA stretches a bit. "Nothing. That's just the thing...you wanna be normal? Great. Shave and polish away everything that makes you //you.// Like a stone worked over by the ocean, all the little intricacies melt away...it sounds exhausting, doesn't it?"
You shrug. "A little. That isn't really possible, though, is it?" The black-haired fellow chuckles dryly. "...nah. If you were weird, it never fully leaves you, no matter how much you try to drown it. Normal people don't like the things you like, they don't eat what you eat, they don't love who you love...if you can move past all of that? Then maybe being normal's worth it." Then the both of you go really quiet for a time.
"...this is the depressing kind of silence, hit me up with a question." Rozzwell says, resting his arms behind his head. Uhh, okay, sure, a question, easy... "Why'd you ask for a floor of weird people, and...why'd the school agree?" You stare at your own hands for a bit after asking that question. You shut them, then open them a few times, to make sure you're real, despite being weird. You seem to be.
"I did something //really// shitty, so...I figured maybe doing something nice would help me feel better." Rozzwell sighs heavily. "...did it?" You ask, but he shakes his head slowly. "Nah. Felt just as empty as the war-path I was on before. Good, bad, it didn't really matter, it wasn't helping me...the school agreed because they could tell I was tired, and I guess they blamed themselves for what happened."
"What happened?" You ask, first just the first time, then a few more, as Rozzwell just limply stares at the ceiling. "...stop. Maybe some day, but not today..." Oh. "Alright." You reply, trying to figure out what to do with your hands now that it's awkward again. "...I made a floor of strange people, because they need somewhere to be themselves. Now go check your schedule..."
[[You probably should check that, actually.|CheckClasses]]<<set $Wands to $Wands + 1>>Your eyes focus a bit on the shirt Rozz is wearing. A faded design of four figures, and the words ''The L-Word'' can be seen on the front. When you could see the back of it, earlier, it looked to have various vague song names, which means... "Are you wearing a band's shirt?"
"Huh? Oh. Yeah, I am. The L-Word." He waits after saying that, for some reason, before smiling gently and continuing. You sit up around the same time he does, as he points at one of the figures, slowly circling it. "Harry's on the drums...rude dude with a bad attitude. The BADs loved him..." You can faintly hear a very catchy drum beat from the walls themselves. Rozzwell does not. Standing behind him is that smeary, faded silhouette. Harry, playing his faded drums.
"So, he went here?" You ponder, but Rozz doesn't respond, his eyes closed for a moment as he hums gently. "...man, that guy was great on the drums..." He eventually says, before continuing, hand pointing at the next vague shape. "That's Tam...she sings, oh, brother, she sings...it's beautiful, but so emotionally naked. That's what makes it punk, y'know?" The drums fade, and you can hear muffled lyrics sang in a rebellious manner. Harry's silhouette remains, but joining him behind Rozzwell is the vague shape of Tam.
Her singing sounds like throat-ruining noise, but you can't deny it sounds like emotion incarnate. Even if you can't quite make out the words. Rozzwell's humming again, and it's to the same tune as the lyrics you're semi-hearing. "...who's next, Rozzwell?" You ask, properly invested in the miracle of music. He chuckles dryly, before pointing at himself. "...I...lost my guitar, but, that was me." He circles his finger around a shape vaguely similar to Rozzwell's present self.
The head-shape is slightly different, perhaps a punkier haircut back then. His silhouette does not conjure like the other two, and no lovely guitar noise replaces the singing. Rozzwell goes silent for a little while, hand opening and closing a few times before he slowly points to the fourth and final shape on the shirt. "That's...Candy." The singing stops instantly, as Rozzwell sighs heavily.
The final silhouette, a feminine shape like Tam's, takes its place by the others, behind Rozzwell. There's a haunting bass playing now, as your roommate sits in silence for a longer while. He just sort of collapses onto his back, staring through where the silhouettes are, at the window with its blackout curtain. "...We were The L-Word. We were damn good, too..."
"...What happened?" You eventually ask, tired of watching him grow more withdrawn as that haunting bass plays into your ears. The music stops entirely, and the silhouettes vanish in a flash with the sound of crackling campfire. "We broke up the band, and went different directions in life." Rozzwell lies, unconvincingly. Part of you considers asking again, but you know he'll just give you the same answer right now.
"...if you find our stuff on-campus, though, give it a listen. It isn't for everyone...but I think it might resonate with you. Not the song Best Friend, but, something else would..." He seems to cease his withdrawing for the moment, by deflecting to another topic. "...oh, also, remember to check for your schedule. I think I heard Riobard telling you about that."
[[Yeah, alright, alright. Time to figure out the college part of college.|CheckClasses]]<<set $Swords to $Swords + 1>>"You used to call the shots?" You begin, and the black-haired fellow nods slowly. "...yeah. Not in an official sense. But the fratrorities moved when I moved, and everyone knew who I was. People listened when I talked, in the social web of this place, I was on top. For a bit."
"Right. Who's the social on top of that web now?" You ask, looking around to make sure there's no social web sticking to you. If Rozzwell thinks whatever the hell you asked him was odd, he doesn't act like it. "...right. Well, it's not any one person right now...probably for the best. But, the socially important people..."
Rozzwell yawns, then continues, "Don't tell her I said this, but...Quwertee's my guess for the next big player. If she keeps at it like she is now, anyway..." You nod, as he thinks. "Checkers, the...'Queen', of Kappa Epsilon Kappa...she's...insane. And unpredictable, which the other fratrorities don't know how to work around. So, she usually gets what she wants..." For some reason you can faintly hear manic laughing, and the swinging of baseball bats. Rozzwell does not.
His green eyes seem to look at you for a moment, somewhat confused at your rapid looking around, before he just proceeds as usual. "Exter and Sleanne usually combine their efforts, if you want two people that can start or end a party anywhere, it's them...no notice required, people just show up...because of rumors." You think about what rumors those could be, but come up short.
"Girart stumbles around campus, half-awake, usually on drugs...people respect his word pretty heavily, since he's a bit of an oracle." Holy shit. "What, like...reading the future?" You ask, confused, causing Rozz to chuckle dryly to himself. "...the future, the past, the present...he sees and hears things, sometimes on purpose. It's hard to tell if he can really control it."
"...obviously the presidents of each fratrority hold plenty of sway, but for most of them that's just because of the title...I wouldn't say Nedallia's a big player, but people still listen to what she has to say." You think back, trying to place Nedallia on your imagined image of a social web. "...finally, there's Shayton. Shay knows everyone, you have to be careful with her, because she talks, and listens. Everyone wants to be on Shay's good side, so that when she talks, they hear."
You blink a few times. "So, the people calling shots, they're...Quwertee, Checkers, Exter and Sleanne, Girart, and Shay?" You query, and the RA nods in agreement. "Yep. Don't piss any of them off, and if you can help it, don't interest any of them...you'll be happier that way. College politics aren't for anyone, least of all the new guy."
Hm. Well, you live near three of those people, so...results may vary. Rozzwell stretches a bit, apparently remembering something. "Oh, remember to check your schedule, alright? Don't wanna miss your classes..."
[[That's nice of him to remind you. You decide to do that.|CheckClasses]]You stand up around the same time Rozzwell does. The pale fellow moves to your laptop and gives it to you, before sitting back at his desk. He cracks open that oversized journal of his again, and begins to write in it. You blink a few times, sit at your own desk, and crack open your laptop. A lock screen greets you, with flowers and theater masks. Right, the password...
...you don't know the password to your laptop, but decide to give it a few guesses anyways.
''$name'' Nope.
''NO-NAME'' No, shockingly...and it always types that in caps.
''Lasagna'' Unfortunately incorrect as well.
''password'' Does not work.
''purplekey'' Was a longshot anyways, so it isn't shocking that it doesn't work.
''Password Hint: The Distant Shore.''
You have no idea what that means. Rozzwell clearly notices you typing away, because he asks if everything's alright. "Yes. Yeah. Yep. Everything's all right. Just trying to remember my password." He doesn't really question that, instead shooting back, "...did you want to use my laptop?" Yeah, alright.
Rozz opens his desk's drawer, pulls out an old, smooth looking laptop, and sets it on your own desk. "...use the guest account." He says simply, before returning to his journal. You nod, then close your forbidden laptop, with its secrets hidden away. Rozz's lock screen is an image of a younger version of himself holding a red and black guitar, smiling confidently with his wild, unkept hair. Auburn hair, not the black hair he has now.
You briefly compare the hair colors, before signing in to the guest account, and opening the web browser. The grains of sand begin to fall anew, in the hourglass that your cursor becomes. You feel a little bit of building pressure in your skull, and in your bones. The internet is ''No-Name'''s domain, so you're not eager to stay too long on it. You quickly type in the school website, navigate over to it, then input your name.
<<if $KnowsFrats is true>>[[Wait for the page to change.|CheckClassesExit]]<<else>>[[Hyperfixate on the school website while your cursor becomes hourglass.|CheckClassesFrats]]<</if>>''You may now check your journal at any time to remind yourself of any people you've met.''
<<set $CharacterSheets to true>><<set $InDorm to true>>
It's actually fairly easy for you to follow a map, your meat-legs follow the guidance of your brain-legs' map reading prowess. The big blocky letters on the map also keep your focus, of course. Finally reaching the ground floor of your dorm, you bump into a man wearing sunglasses and a black leather jacket. This must be Exter, from room 215.
<<set $TimeyWimey to 0>>
You catch your map, and blink a few times as the average-heighted human stares in your direction for a few moments, grimacing. "Watch your step, buddy..." He says, chuckling suddenly as he pushes past you, up the stairs with a smile. <<if $Swords >= 3>><span style="color:#FFFFC5">//For some reason he smells like vanilla, which doesn't strike you as his normal state.//</span><</if>> That felt like a normal reaction to being bumped into. You wave to Hilx as you exit, and he <<if $HilxAff is 2>>smiles back at you, before waving quickly. "Have a good first day, $name. If you're not busy later, we should grab lunch." You'll think about it, smiling back at him. This day could go anywhere at this point. <<elseif $HilxAff is 1>>winks at you, and wishes you a good first day. You shoot him with two finger guns like a cool guy, before walking backwards out of the building. He just stares. <<elseif $CatTongue is true>>chuckles to himself, before waving hello back. "Find your room alright?" He asks, to which you nod. He's definitely checking you out, but won't go any further than that right now. <<elseif $HilxPhoto is true>>smirks fiercely, slowly waving his hand back at you. "Have any...//downtime// yet?" He asks with a slight purr to his tone, before laughing. You inform him that you haven't, and he just nods with that smirk as you walk outside. <<elseif $HilxUnwind is true>>smiles slightly, chuckling a few times. "Classes definitely //would// make the wait go by faster, wouldn't it?" He offers, and you quickly nod. That wasn't why you were going, but it is a nice bonus! <<elseif $HilxBasement>>stares back at you with a slight reassuring smile. "Holding up alright, buddy?" He asks you, and you nod, not directly acknowledging anything that you may or may not have seen. You're quick to leave. <<else>>waves back simply.<</if>>
It takes some time for you to navigate the campus, even with the map guiding you, and you see all sorts of interesting sights along the way. A little gnomish man walking around on stilts, a strong human girl riding around on a large bird, several fratrority people wearing their jackets, in all the alphabet soup that entails. Eventually you navigate past a nervous seeming new girl, and find your way in front of the big building in question: Gobgaks Hall, an imposing brickwork construction that several others are pouring into. In here, apparently, lay the teaching you seek.
As you enter, you are taken back by how well-maintained everything is, and how clean the whole interior is. Tall glass windows allow you to peer into classrooms and labs and auditoriums, some with students, and some without. Standing alone in the nearest auditorium is some drunk and high seeming student, with hair all standing on its ends. Up the stairs, beyond the meeting place for the Griffon Club (whatever that is), you find him, the same man from your laptop.
He moves and looks like a diseased man, and looks as well like he does not sleep. Despite appearances, Professor Sagax is still keen enough of mind to hold open the door for you once he's past you.
[[Enter Professor Sagax's class.|Arcanism0]]As you enter the room, you swiftly find that it's not the traditional classroom, instead it looks to be a lecture hall, with little steps to help you access the seat of your choice. Professor Sagax's desk is placed just by the doorway in, with a large board and projector in a more centralized location. There are perhaps 33 other students already inside, waiting, sitting down, who give you a brief look, before seeming almost relieved to see Sagax.
Looking at the clock, it looks like you were late, so there's no telling how late Professor Sagax was. He doesn't seem to care, more content to shoo you away with the papers he's clutching until you scurry into the nearest empty seat. You now sit next to a blue-haired gnomish girl, who strangely resembles Celci from that earlier campus restaurant. There's no time to go through an introduction, however, as Sagax noisily smacks his desk a few times to draw attention.
"Erm, hello, //...class//." He says with a certain edge, "Welcome to the first day of, uhm, the rest of the year. Look to-" The sickly man coughs so hard that you worry, before continuing as if nothing happened, "Your right, left, ninety degrees down, ehm, then entirely behind you and ninety degrees up. Unless you're, erm, by the wall. Obviously." Professor Sagax motions with a flourish, causing roughly half of the chairs to glow a deep red.
"Half of you aren't going to graduate." During his talk, several students have raised their hands, but Sagax's yellow eyes don't notice or care. He strangely pauses, seemingly at random, as he talks. He swiftly begins to hobble toward the projector. After inhaling deeply, and tip-tapping aimlessly at the projector, he points at one of the students raising their hand, a bookish looking human fellow.
"You. Trevor. What." Sagax says, to the student, apparently not named Trevor. Not-Trevor looks around in confusion. "Are we going to need any extra study material for this class?" Not-Trevor asks, but by then Sagax has moved on from listening. He finally claps his hands together, as the projector roars to life from seemingly no input on anyone's part.
Sagax does not look old enough to suffer from dementia, so there's clearly //something// going on with him making him act like a demented man. The bottom right of the image now displaying awkwardly on the board is asking Professor Sagax to activate his computer legally, but he pays that no mind. He opens a paint program, and begins to draw with a spraypaint tool.
Strange, seemingly random patterns. Several students begin to stand up and leave, especially the ones with thick nerd glasses and polo shirts displaying their candidacy for Zeta Zeta Zeta. You can hear them muttering about tuition and tenure. Sagax makes a few airplane noises with his mouth while continuing his artistry, and it's only when he's stopped that you can see that he's made esoteric, arcane runes entirely in a digital paint program. Not by what he's drawn, but by leaving spaces empty. In an instant, the room shakes, the lights dim and brighten, there's the sound of electrical interference, as Sagax's eyes focus profusely.
"...Ah. That's much better. Scare away the //nerds?//" He asks, to which a student desperate to advance nods. "Yes. I have a tendancy to do, erm, that." He says, stretching his limbs with far more articulation than before. "Welcome to," He checks his hand, squinting, "Introduction to Arcanism. Every test in this class will have nothing to do with the subject taught in books, to get my, er, attendance numbers up."
He strides to his desk, flicking his wrist, and closing the paint program. The lights still flicker in time to Sagax's movements, as if they are strangely linked together. "Will the tests still be most of our grade?" A student asks, and Sagax nods. "Yes. But you can gain extra credit, by showing up, and interacting in my class. But because I am a sick deity, I will also randomly, erm, remove points, for any minor inconvenience you cause me."
Several more students raise their hands, including Celci, but Sagax just coughs a few times, causing the projector's light to warble noisily. "...before you ask, yes...I have tenure. I am your God in this room, and specifically this room. And as such you must play my strange games..." A few students lower their hands, and Sagax seems to take note of them on a paper he's vaguely clutching.
[[Go through Introduction to Arcanism.|ContOn]]The projector projects a slideshow, made with a pirated version of otherwise expensive slideshow software. First appears an image of the syllabus, with various little stock image branches crudely superimposed on top of a tree. Sagax has added various subjects that he considers mandatory knowledge onto each branch in bold comic sans, such as ''WHAT IS MAGIC'', ''THE SPARK'', ''BIRTHRIGHT VERSUS HAPPENSTANCE THEORY'', and ''DESCHOOLING OF SCHOOLS''.
<<set $MetSagax to true>>
With each moving slide, the slideshow focuses in on each branch with its bold letters. "...We will start with: What Is Magic. If anyone can answer that, they'll gain five Sagax Points. Non-transferable, these are added onto your final grade, and I can give you negative of them if you, erm, inconvenience me." Sagax turns off the projector with a glance, and hobbles over to the board it was awkwardly projecting images onto.
Permanent markers begin to write entirely without his physical involvement as he casts a basic spell, spelling out ''WHAT IS MAGIC''. Several of the remaining students glance at one another, before one of the remaining Zeta Zeta Zeta initiates raises her hand. "Magic is the unseen force that allows living things to manipulate the fabric of existence to benefit them." She speaks very confidently for someone that Sagax immediately calls incorrect, sounding somewhat bored himself.
"To reiterate, no, what you just said to me is what they lie to you about in fifth grade." He seems to focus for a moment, "You likely were also taught that there are only three states of matter, or that the dragons 'willingly' gave up their land...despite being super advanced flying monsters." He casts another spell, and with the burning out of one of the bulbs, you can physically see a -5 over her seat. She looks crushed.
"...I'm willing to hear alternate theories. Also..." He motions in the direction of the girl. "I'll probably forget, erm, about your negative points, so high school wasn't your academic peak, despite your worry." The girl shakes in response to that, but Sagax does not care, instead looking in the direction of the other students, waiting for the next hand to raise.
Eventually, it does, as Not-Trevor decides to try his hand at it. "Magic is...imagination?" Sagax blinks a few times, "Are you asking me if it is? The worst that'll happen if you're wrong is a moment of academic embarassment that means nothing to anyone but you." He motions at Not-Trevor, to which he repeats himself, more sure. "Magic is imagination."
"No. Definitely not. If magic was...imagination, as the 14th century scholar you're failing to quote believed, then children would be the most magical beings, and yet..." Sagax snaps his sickly fingers, and a negative five appears above Not-Trevor's seat. "...I won't forget your negative points, Trevor, don't worry." A few more students raise their hands, but Sagax doesn't pay them any mind.
//"This guy's mega-harsh."// Celci whispers to you, and you have to agree. He has the shambling of Rozzwell, but seems to actively want to crush the preconceived notions everyone around you has with magic. //"Yeah. I don't think that his teaching style's really what I need right now...I kinda need someone who just tells me things."// You reply. Your eyes refocus on not Celci, and you realize that Sagax is sat at his desk, fingers steepled, staring in your vague direction.
"Seat numbers 6 and 7, that's..." He checks his hand again, for some reason, "...$name, and Celci. No-one else has a good guess, so, I imagine that your whispering isn't about my teaching style. Care to share your theory on magic?" He points at Celci. "...I'm kidding, I know for a fact that's what you were grousing about. I'm just trying to embarass you."
[[Let Celci try her hand at this, she probably knows a lot about magic for a fellow first-year.|CelciEmb]]
[[You probably know deep down what magic is, right? Spare her the embarassment, or try to take the glory for yourself.|CompEmb]]The gnome blinks a few times, looks back and forward, before resigning herself to her fate. "I, uh...Magic is..." She looks around, rubbing her arm nervously, but Sagax's gaze is unbreakable. "...making...physics do things for you. With your...brain." She suggests, but Sagax shakes his head. "No. Ordinarily I would draw your viewpoint back to a source, a culture, a philosophy...but you made that up. Do not say any-thing so incorrect again, and do not discuss unrelated topics when I am polling your peers." The professor motions, and the slide moves on.
[[Continue on with your lesson in Arcanism.|Arcanism1]]You raise your hand out of reflex after seeing everyone else do that before speaking. <<if $Cups >= 4>><span style="color:#90D5FF">//The cosmos moves through you, for you have aligned with it on multiple occasions. In your heart of hearts, you understand the truth that is magic. When asked what magic is, you know that magic is the brain, the heart, the eyes, and the soul.//</span>
After staring blankly into space while holding your hand over your skull, you swiftly answer. "Magic is the heart, the brain, the soul, and the eyes, all working together in perfect unity." Everyone looks at you somewhat confused, Celci looks at you with a look of relief. Thank goodness you stepped up to the plate, she definitely didn't have that kind of confidence for her on-the-spot answer.
<<set $CelciAff to 1>>
Sagax does look briefly interested by your answer, before shaking his head all the same. "Closer than most, but no. Stop quoting ancient philosophers. And don't bring soul-theory into this room, that's not fit for discourse on a starter course. It'll hijack every-thing." He seems to write something on his clutched piece of paper, before moving on without another word. The slide changes, and he begins anew.
<<set $SagaxInt to true>>
[[Move on, then.|Arcanism1]]<<else>>You have no real grasp on what magic is, not better than what everyone else has been saying, but...you'll give it a try. "Magic is the...understanding of the self," You pause for a moment, but Sagax isn't satisfied with just that amount of answer, so you continue. "...and others. And the world around you."
Sagax taps his chin, seeming to mull over what you've just cobbled together, before shrugging. "No. Not...really, anyway. Youthful children can cast, and they do not understand the world, or the self, or even others. A more interesting guess than most, a bit treaded over by the scholars of Old Kika'Dag, though..."
<<set $CelciAff to 1>>
He waves off any further attempts to discuss on your part, before moving right along. Celci seems quite appreciative that you took the heat on that one for her, and mouths a little 'thank you'. Sagax turns, but it thankfully isn't to face you, instead it's to change the slide.
[[Continue the learning.|Arcanism1]]<</if>>This slide has three bubbles, with a circular line connecting each of them together. They are labelled as follows: ''Intent'', ''Focus'', and ''Emotion'', all of them are inside of a way bigger circle entitled ''Magic''. "Magic is the combination of intent, focus, and emotion, which themselves are connected by a 'spark', see your study material for that...or wait two months to learn it." Sagax produces a laser pointer, and emits its distracting red light onto the three circles. "Essentially, magic is the culmination of being a whole being. Infants cannot cast, because they cannot focus, or show intent..."
Not-Trevor raises his hand, and Sagax eagerly calls on him. "But, sir, some animals can cast spells." Sagax nods. "I've personally seen the species of giant pale elk that you're referring to, so. I. Ask. You. Why do deer freeze in front of traffic, if not for emotion? Why do they spar over mates, if not for intent? How can they raise a child, or multitask, if not for focus?" Not-Trevor takes notes, to avoid losing more points. Sagax motions, and the -5 above his seat turns into a -2.
"That was your first good point, though. The actual counter-point you should've used, however, was that the 'spark' is only found in people, not animals, to which I'd have no response. Other than to remove points from you, and hurl my own theories back at you." Sagax moves on to the next slide, and explains what emotion, intent, and focus is as if he were talking to children, before reminding you in particular to take notes. You begin to do so.
As Sagax finishes, he glances at the clock, before suddenly speaking again. "To tie this all back in to the animal-thing, the several animals that //can// cast. They can't seem to cast as constantly as a person could...why is that?" This time he doesn't point at Not-Trevor, instead content to pick the Zeta Zeta Zeta initiate, whose hand wasn't even raised. She begins to answer something about the 'spark' out of reflex, before closing her mouth, and truly, truly thinking.
"Humans..." She starts, before regaining her lost composure, "Humans evolved to be endurance hunters, it's likely a similar matter with utilizing magic. Less big bursts of energy, and more prolonged uses." Sagax shrugs, and the number above her seat disappears entirely, back to zero. "A little human-centric, ma'am. Goblins certainly did not evolve to be endurance hunters, yet they can cast the same amount that you or I could. However, given that no-one in academia agrees on the answer to my question, I'll accept any answer from you hopeless lot..."
Not-Trevor looks at the Z-Z-Z initiate's lack of number, then at his own, before gesticulating at Sagax. "What. Oh. Right. I'm biased toward favoring women in intellectual spaces solely because their voices are nicer on my ears than yours is." He admits with zero shame, or care. "...if that gives you a chip on your shoulder, good, do better next time."
The girl in question raises her hand, and Sagax just gestures at her, turning her counter to -5 again. "Don't interrupt me, miss fourth grade Science Fair winner..." You have no way of telling how much of what the professor says about his own beliefs is genuine, and how much is to just see the look of dejection in his student's eyes when he does something inane. The girl //does// look shocked, apparently he guessed that science fair thing correctly.
The hum of electricity continues as the class does, with Sagax reminding time and time again that everything everyone learned before was not only the basics, but also often directly incorrect. Overall, his teaching style seems focused on drilling in every concept by social force, and by using bizarre tactics to incentivise participation. Despite his inherent abrasive attitude, he seems extremely knowledgeable, if quite bored, with talking about what he sees as a 'baby class'. The few times someone questions his teaching style, he just says the word 'tenure', then shrugs limply. <<if $Coin >= 3>><span style="color:#B2FBA5">//He himself doesn't want to be teaching this, he sees this subject as beneath him. But for some reason or another, he's stuck doing it.//</span><</if>>
When class draws to a close, Sagax reaches his final slide, in which the words ''2000 WORD ESSAY ON WHAT YOU HAVE LEARNED TODAY'' are written in comic sans. "...have that done by, oh, three weeks from now, when I'm meant to have already explained in extensive detail what magic is. Actually, make it a week...there's too many of you still."
"If you have any questions...email them to me. I won't read it, so, catch me in the wild, or read those hundred-dollar books I wrote." With that, Professor Sagax raises his hands high, the bulbs and projector all calming down, and the focus in his eyes fading once more. He staggers to his projector, unplugging it, and closing down the tiny laptop it's connected to. It isn't long before he's shambling out of the room, leaving everyone to pack up and go.
[[Leave this sacred place.|PostArcanism]]Everyone's getting up, and headed into the hall, a sea of students, but now you're moving along the tide instead of against it. "Man, that guy's //really// full of himself..." Not-Trevor says as you walk past him, to you, apparently. You look back and forward, then nod. "Yeah. He knows his stuff, though, so maybe that's why he still has a job?" The Z-Z-Z initiate //laughs// when you suggest that, throwing her hands in the air. "No way! When Jeremy mentioned that his teaching methods were 'unusual', Professor Sagax just kept saying tenure! What gets me is that he has to ''know'' deep down that it's a shitty style, so why do it?"
<<set $NotTrevor to "Not-Trevor">>
You pass by that gothic ghost and feminine centaur guy again, Celci waves warmly to the both of them, and they strike up a distant conversation. "Well, you heard how he was, assigning an essay weeks earlier than the syllabus stated...he said there were too many of us, he's one of those old-fashioned teachers, who want us to suffer and toil. He'll say it was tough love, or some shit."
<<set $GirlName to "the Z-Z-Z initiate girl">>
You've made it out of the building, briefly blinded by the sunlight, it's lunchtime. Not for everyone, but definitely for you, given your schedule. "I'm gonna go eat something." You say, just matter-of-factly, while walking away from Not-Trevor and the Z-Z-Z initiate girl. They pause, look at each other, shrug, then ask if you want to eat with them.
[[Oh, sure.|WithFriends]]
[[Don't eat with these people.|NoneFriends]]<<set $NotTrevor to "Jeremy">>There is exactly one resturaunt on campus that you know about, but Not-Trevor (who introduces himself as Jeremy) offers to drive you guys to one of the family-run places in Millerfield proper. You've already made your choice, so there's no stopping you from going to a second location with a stranger.
<<set $GirlName to "Tara">>
You've never been in a car before, so you're understandably confused, but it's intuitive enough once you've watched the girl (who introduces herself as Tara) open a door and sit down. Jeremy blinks a few times as neither one of you sit in the front by him, but doesn't dwell on it. Jeremy's ride is a short red car, clearly well-traveled, it lacks a roof, which sets it far apart from the bus you've been in.
"I don't know how you can drive this thing around campus, it rains way too much for that." Tara says, while you look out at the rapidly moving passerby from your seat. "It's a family car, they wanted me to use it, I'm gonna use it. Even if I have to get creative with where the hell I put it at night." He turns out of the campus, onto the bumpy roads of Millerfield. The metal fence around the campus looks so small now.
"Why's it matter where you put it at night?" You ask, trying not to lose track of the conversation amidst your first car ride. Your hand grips the door tightly for support, the bumps are ''not'' fun as Jeremy speeds over them. "You haven't heard? Cars are going missing. If it was the big city, I'd understand, but //here?// There's no-one to sell stolen things to, so..." Jeremy trails off, turning a few times, as road gives way to pretty, old buildings and stores.
"It's probably one of the grosser fratrorities...I wouldn't put it past the BADs, but this has House KEK written //all// over it." Tara replies, eyes lighting up as she notices something. She points toward an old train track that awkwardly cuts through the town, seeming to go far, far away in either direction, into the woods. "This town's history is something else, though, the first gem mine in North America!"
You nod politely, as Jeremy retorts. "A great history if you like murdered natives, I guess. They're not as proud of it as some of the people further south, though, I'll give Millerfield that." Jeez, okay, maybe history isn't nice after all. "...town founder was pretty forward-thinking, though." Jeremy finishes.
The car ride continues like that for a while, until you eventually park to the side of an old building made of wood and stone, big, smelling of grilled meat. //''SAINT DRAKE'S GRILLERY''// adorns a sign placed out front, but the building itself is largely untainted by labels.
[[Enter the grillery|SaintDrakes0]]"No." You say, before realizing saying no without any excuse makes you sound like Sagax. "I'm still settling in, maybe another time." You conclude, to which Not-Trevor and the Z-Z-Z initiate girl nod. "So, you down?" He asks her, to which she shrugs, and nods. That's the last you hear between the two as they walk off, to a car. That leaves you.
You slowly walk around campus, getting a better feel for what the actual space feels like compared to how it appears on the map. At some point, you start counting your steps, to get a more exact number, but that's not an exact science, so it proves ultimately fruitless to try to get an exact description of how many feet long the campus is. You might throw yourself at that idea again, if you weren't vaguely hungry since you know it's lunchtime.
There's only one campus restaurant that you've been to so far, but you aren't convinced it'd function without the only waitress you've seen working there present. You check the building you came from, to see if Celci is in there or maybe back at the restaurant, but it's clear that she hasn't mastered instant transmission. You'll have to eat someplace else...
But, then, where? And, far more interestingly, maybe with //who//?
<<if $SyllPhone is true>>[[Call Syllyvana, that cute nervous elf-nerd-girl, from earlier.|SyllCall0]]<<else>><span style="color:gray">//If you had a nerd-girl's number, you could call her here.//</span><</if>>
<<if $MysteryNumber is true>>[[Text the mystery number that Nedallia gave you.|MysteryText0]]<<else>><span style="color:gray">//If you had a stranger's number, you could text it here.//</span><</if>>
<<if $NedalPhone is true>>[[Call up Nedallia, that attractive tanned halfling artist girl.|NedalCall0]]<<else>><span style="color:gray">//If you had an artist's number, you could call her here.//</span><</if>>
[[Grab a sandwich from somewhere, then eat in the dorm.|DormLunch0]]The inside of Saint Drake's Grillery is cozy, with smooth wood flooring, and various paintings of apparently famous people that ate here once. <<if $Locket is true>>Sleanne's father, that dead man from her locket, is in one of the paintings. His gaze haunts you, but paint cannot hurt you. <</if>>You make your way over to a table, led by a waiter in very nice black clothes. He places three menus on your newly assigned table, asks what drinks you'd like, then heads away.
You stare at it for quite some time, immersing your face in the menu's text, unable to locate the lasagna. "Have you guys been here before?" Jeremy asks. "No." You reply simply, squinting at the nonsense letters and numbers on this menu, begging to be understood. "I have, when I was little." Tara says, setting down her menu in record time.
<<set $MetTara to true>><<set $MetJeremy to true>>
You squint and tilt your head, then tilt the menu, trying to decipher this gibberish. "Who is Oz, and why is it next to these food names?" You ask, to which Tara stifles laughter. Jeremy does not stifle his laughter, he simply laughs, before shaking his head slowly. "Maybe //you're// House KEK material, man, that was a good one..." Then he seems to see the confusion on your face, before clearing his throat, and moving next to you.
"Oh, uh..." Jeremy looks at you a few more times, as you hold your finger over the letters oz. "...that means ounce. It's a way of measuring how much steak you get, basically." He answers genuinely, despite the confusion in his face. You nod slowly, before selecting a random item on the menu. "Alright, you're...paying for yourself, sorry, but you have expensive taste."
Pay. Yes. Right. You actually recognize that concept, vaguely, and reflexively check your pockets for a government issued...something...for paying through the infranet. You don't really remember where that thought process was headed, but do find a wallet in your pocket. Was it always there? The waiter's back with drinks, and you all place your orders.
Tara's been staring at you for a bit now, sometimes tapping her fingers on the table, sometimes scratching her head. Her eyes are calculating, and they blink a few times as she recognizes that you're staring directly into them. "...What did you say your name was?" She asks, to which you reply the singular constant in your life today. "$name. I'm the new RA, replacing Rozzwell." That last part just slipped out automatically.
"Are you...from here?" She eventually asks, to which you shake your head. "No. I'm from...Weast-Wald." You lie, poorly. Tara nods along slowly with you, before shrugging. "Far away, I take it." You smile and nod, and that seems to satisfy whatever part of her is interested in you. You eagerly take the silence as cue to sip your delicious, amazing //ice// water that the waiter brought you.
You need not wait too long for your food, since the Grillery doesn't seem to have many customers right now...perhaps an ill omen for its financial future. Before you lay a proper feast of steak, mushroom, potato, and some kind of gravy. It smells heavenly, and tastes more unique than even breakfast lasagna. It is your second meal of existing, so, perhaps not too shocking that it's unique.
There's not much talking to be done while eating, and soon enough you've finished. The others look somewhat confused, and concerned, that you managed to finish eating //first,// despite having far, ''far'' more food on your plate. You just politely wait for them to finish as well, then it's time to pay. You play around with your wallet for quite some time as they split the bill, eventually producing some hunk of plastic that the waiter takes from you.
It returns to you shortly thereafter, so you tuck it back into its leather bed and stuff it all back into your pocket. You all slowly make your way back to the car, and buckle in at the insistence of Jeremy.
[[Return to campus.|WithFriends0]]During the drive back, you're questioned a little more about your origin, but you always respond with Weast-Wald, even when you want to use a different lie. The pair take turns speculating, asking if you're a sheltered prince or something, but you can confidently tell them you aren't. That gives them the idea of using your tone to divine how close to the truth they are.
You know for sure that you aren't a prince, a spy, some magical illusion, or a bunch of plankton. Your tone turns shaky when they ask if you're a soldier, though, which is strange. They ask about basically every army on Earth, but you clearly aren't a soldier for any of them. Tara throws up her arms in defeat. "Alright, alright, fine, keep your mysterious past."
Some part of you wants to know about your past just as much as they do, but you don't think saying that is wise. Instead the car trip changes subject once again, focusing in on this indie punk band that Jeremy likes. Apparently they broke up a few years back, but the music's pretty easy to find on campus, so it works out fine.
Once the car returns to the welcoming metal fence of Millerfield University, you truly feel at home again. Jeremy doesn't seem to want to show you guys where he'll park his car, in case either of you are working with the car bandit, so you're let out by the fountain.
[[Check the time, and go from there. Wave goodbye, also.|Fountain1]]Somehow, someway, you still have a bit of time before your next class, so you decide to sit on a bench near the fountain. The fountain itself is a bizarre thing, carved stone that spits water all over itself, then on its base, before guzzling it up and doing it all over again. It doesn't have the shape of a person, so your first thought being to personify it is...interesting.
While you wait the time away, content to watch the fountain do its eternal self-feeding cycle, you note a few individuals walking by. Some pink-haired girl, a cat-girl, Rumiyuko from room 210...You wave at that last one, since you recognize her, and she politely waves back before continuing along. A tall girl briefly looks at the fountain, then at you, with a raised eyebrow.
She approaches you rapidly, before sitting next to you. "Heya-heya, new guy." She starts, lounging against the bench while staring down at you. She doesn't seem to be human, and despite her pointed ears she's no elf...you have no idea what she is, with her inky black hair, curly and poofy. "Hello, I'm $name. New RA, replacing Rozzwell." You say, out of reflex.
She nods rapidly, smiling with too-white teeth. "Oh, I know, I know! Isn't that neat, how have we //not// met each other yet!" She exclaims, reaching an arm out to touch your shoulder. The way she runs her thumb over it is perhaps the most suggestive way someone can circle a thumb over a shoulder. "Name's...Sharp." She says after a strange pause, smiling again.
She leans closer and brings you into an impromptu hug, briefly encompassing you in her breasts, soft as a cloud. <<if $Swords >= 4>><span style="color:#FFFFC5">//You see movement outside of your current situation, vaguely near the fountain. She just squeezes you tighter when you try to peer over. //</span><</if>><<if $Coin >= 3>><span style="color:#B2FBA5">//Why is she doing this, socially-speaking? This person does not know you at all, and this is not a normal way to greet someone, even coming from you. Very strange. //</span><</if>><<if $Wands >=4>><span style="color:#FF3333">//A strange stranger distracts you with too-dark hair, too-white teeth. She is beautiful, but there is a hollowness to it all. Is this what sincerity feels like to you? //</span><</if>><<if $Cups >= 2>><span style="color:#90D5FF">//No-one else has acted this way to you, not even the promiscuous Sleanne. Why is this girl?//</span><</if>>
After a few moments more of smothering you, she releases you, smiling sweetly. "Sorry, I'm a hugger." She says with a slight giggle. "Anywho, I'm Sharp, hope we see each other again!" She stands up, winks, and strolls away, tall as ever. That was extremely strange. <<if $Swords >= 3>><span style="color:#FFFFC5">>//There's a brick by the fountain that's been moved awkwardly out of place, but you can't see anything else odd nearby.//</span><<elseif $Cups >= 3>><span style="color:#90D5FF">//There's a brick that isn't how it's supposed to be. Someone or something's made this brick incorrect, while you were distracted by titties.//</span><<elseif $Coin >= 3>><span style="color:#B2FBA5">//As far as social contracts go, not even calling out to her at this point would make her turn around and acknowledge whatever this was actually about.//</span><</if>>
[[Head over to class, Mystic Anthropology, taught by Professor Nathidesh Strodev.|MA0]]
<<if $Swords >=3>><span class="swords">[[Investigate that weird brick.|BrickSwords]]</span><</if>>
<<if $Cups >= 3>><span class="cups">[[Fix the wrong-brick as best as you can. It's the least you could do.|BrickCups]]</span><</if>>You dial Syllyvana's number, then wait. It rings a few times, before eventually you hear her voice. //"Hello, this is Syllyvana, to whom do I speak?"// She sounds different over the phone, far more confident, and personable. <<if $SyllAff is 2>>"Hello, //Luna.//" You say, trying your best to sound romantic. The change in her emotion is almost immediate, you think you can hear rapid shuffling for a moment. //"Oh. $name. I didn't think you'd call so soon, but, it is...a nice surprise. The day's already been such a handful...What did you need?"//
"Well...we already ate breakfast together, and it's around lunch, I was wondering if you'd like to grab lunch together." There's a pause, the muffled sound of thought, then, //"Yes. Sure. Where did you have in mind?"// Shit. Uh. "Wherever you want's fine, I'm not picky, just tell me where to meet up." Nice save, they should put you in charge of hostage negotiations.
//"Hm. You don't know what places there are here, do you?"// She asks, and you reflexively nod at the voice that can't see you. //"Perhaps reasonable...no, that would definitely be rational, you did get here just today. Alright. Meet me outside of the Zeta Zeta Zeta fratrority building. It's the large one with no lawn decorations."// You start to walk, and she hangs up abruptly.
[[Over to ZZZ, then.|3ZSyllEat]]<<else>>"Hey, Syllyvana, it's $name." You say, trying to sound approachable. Normally you have a face to say this to, so phone-based speaking is weird for you to unlock. You have no idea where to look during this. //"Oh, $name, hello. You sound relatively calm, so, hopefully this is not about another panic attack."// You blink a few times, then inform her that no, you just wanted to grab lunch together.
//"Lunch...lunch...lunch..."// She ponders, briefly, and you can make out the muffled noise of people saying something in response to her pondering. Then you hear her shuffled movement, a door closing...//"Sure. But perhaps not for too long, I've a lot on my plate already today. Where were you planning?"// Uhhhhhhh.
Your silence drags on, and you don't have time to articulate an imaginary restaurant in the time it takes her to start puzzling the reason for your silence. //"Hm. It's unlikely that you would call and ask me where I wanted to go, after yourself suggesting lunch. I think anyone would have a place in mind...unless they arrived just today, like you did. I see."//
"Yeah, I don't really know what there is around here." You reply, and the elf thinks again, before ultimately stating, //"Right. Okay. Come over to the Zeta Zeta Zeta fratrority, I'll meet you there. You'll know which one it is, there's nothing on the lawn. And it's quite imposing, as well."// You once more don't have time to respond, she simply hangs up.
[[Head over to that building, for an unforgettable luncheon.|3ZSyllEat]]<</if>>Hello.
who is this
$name.
i don't know who that is
where did u get this number
Nedallia gave it to me.
oh
ducking nedallia
autocorrect
alright yea i know who u are now
u write like an old man
Thank you.
alright so the run down is this
no electronics of any kind or drugs
booze glow etc
Glow?
if u dont know then keep it that way
draw this symbol on a piece of paper & put it over ur face
<img src="images/sigil.png" width="200" height="200"/>
then say "somnos salvis tepm-tepm mori" 3 times & close ur eyes
k?
K.
[[Go through these motions.|Dreams Sweet Time Die]]You press the call button next to her contact, and wait patiently. You don't have to wait very long for the halfling to pick up. "Hiya, $name! What's up?"
"It's lunch, and I don't really have anyone to eat with. I don't know where anything is, and I think the waitress for the resturaunt I know is talking to a centaur." You reply, causing somewhat phone-compressed bubbly giggles to eminate. "Gosh, you've just //gotta// mean Celci, right? You know that resturaunts have more than one waitstaff, silly?"
You did not know that until now, but you probably would've gotten it eventually. "Do you want to eat together?" You instead reply, changing the subject, and she gasps. "Oh! I'd just love to, yeah! Are you gonna use this as a chance to say more of those nice words to me?" You think you can hear her close a book, or journal.
You shrug, but since she cannot possibly see that without a telescope, "Maybe. Right now I'm extremely fixated on getting lunch." She giggles again, and pauses. "Alright, silly dude. Rubi would have one of her iconic stress-storms if I left right now, but you can come to my fratrority house, and we can eat together!" You don't know what a stress-storm is, but you do know that Rubi's are iconic.
"Okay. What's it look like?" You ask. "It's a tall, three-floor type of house. Oh! Oh! It has people out front acting out Gnomebeth most times of day! Hard to miss. Also we hang a giant flag on the lawn with the greek letters for Alpha Kappa Tau...which is actually just A-K-T, now that I think about it! See you soon?"
"See you soon." You reply, which seems to allow her to hang up. It takes a bit of remembering you have a map, but finding AKT is actually quite easy. The flag stands out, and so does the large lawn of eccentric actors waxing poetic and telling the tragedy of Gnomebeth. You get the vague idea that the moral is to not listen to witches unless you're on a first-name basis.
The moment you step foot on their lawn, the actors turn to face you. Some of them begin to act all the harder now that an actual audience is here, and some are more content to be contrary to those guys by acting like a sane person. "Howdy." Says a human in a plague doctor outfit, some strange ancient greeting. You wave at him.
He waves back. "What brings you to AKT, are you looking to apply?" Now he's following you toward the front door. You like Nedallia, she seems nice, but you don't think you could live in a building where almost everyone is as socially unaware as you are. The horrible instrument-death noise that hits your ears when you open the front door reassures you of your choice. AKT has musicians too, apparently.
The plague doctor laughs at your reaction to the dreadful racket you're hearing. "That's Edith, don't mind her...practicing." You nod and fail to not mind her practicing. "I'm just here to eat with Nedallia." You say, willing your way further in, despite the infernal not-music. "Ah! I see, I see...she's up the stairs, on the third floor. You'll know her door once you see it, my good man." Then he bows.
You trudge up the stairs, tall slender things, and quickly note the exact door on the second floor that an instrument's dying animal impression is coming from.
[[Knock on this door.|EdithHi]]
[[March on with all of your willpower.|NedalLunch]]The campus restaurants are far more vague on the map, compared to actual vital buildings meant for learning and living in. You spend even more time wandering the campus, looking around for somewhere to get a sandwich. You don't know why you specifically want a sandwich, but you do, and will not rest until you find one. The first places you try do not serve such things, instead serving 'italian cuisine' and 'ramen', which do not sound like sandwich to you.
You're starting to fully comprehend that this is a big fucking campus, now that you're seeing how many places to eat and sleep there are. Way too big for a tiny town like Millerfield, but it clearly doesn't have a shortage of students attending. A few of them prove interesting from a distance, but seem ultimately unapproachable while your stomach calls to you. One of them, however, approaches you, holding a paper-wrapped sandwich in one hand.
//"Hey, uh-"// He begins, before his gray eyes seem to focus on something other than you for a little bit. You look the same direction, but only see a pretty bird. You wave at it, but it just eats worms in response. //"...sandwich for you?"// He finishes, causing you to jump somewhat, since he wasn't speaking into your ear before. You politely push the stranger out of your personal space, then take the sandwich with zero hesitation.
His now empty hands twitch a few times, and now that you've completed your holy mission to obtan sandwich, you're really noticing that this guy's kind of fucked up looking. He has bandages over his arms, he's wearing a loose faded blue hoodie, and his eyes aren't //really// focusing on anything around him. He just smiles, and sits on a nearby bench, patting it a few times. He wants you to sit with him.
[[Tell me the appearance of this strange man before I continue.|GirartLook1]]
[[Sit by this strange man and consume sandwich.|GirartLunch1]]
[[Take the sandwich and leave for your dorm immediately.|DormLunch1]]You decide against doing whatever this is out in the middle of campus, and scurry back to your dorm room, past the sea of students, past Hilx. There's no-one else in the room right now, which, is probably for the best. Rozz must be in class, or laying on someone else's floor right now. You nervously tear a page from your journal, partly worried that you'll instantly die for some reason if you do so. That doesn't happen, so you draw the symbol as best you can on it, then place it over your face.
You repeat that string of gibberish a few times, setting your phone down on your bed, since the words did specify no electronics. Your maw feels heavy, and slow, as you reach the third utterance, and only when you conclude the repitition does your body give out beneath you.
Darkness. Dark, inky blackness, in which there lay nothing. You begin to breathe heavily, peering around. You can't have just stumbled back into non-existence, you were doing so well! As panic spreads, as you look around to find ''No-Name'', you quickly realize this...isn't non-existence. You pull the paper off of your face, and find that you're standing in a steel room, a starship's interior.
Why do you know what a starship is, if those don't exist here? There's no time to dwell on that, as you make out a shape forming from the metal, stepping up and out of it, and shaking away loose liquid flecks of the stuff. This form is obfuscated by deep black robes, a shadowy figure with six very striking blue eyes. There are no pupils in those glowing things, but they peer at you all the same, the figure's slouching form towering over you.
<span style="color:#8F00FF">"Hey."</span> She says, to which you wave back like a child. "Hello, I'm $name." The figure nods, <span style="color:#8F00FF">"Yep, I know. You were texting me, remember?"</span> A somehow still obfuscated hand reaches out from those robes, and waves around a phone that looks incredibly tiny in her grasp. For some reason it looks a bit...damaged, like someone's rooted around in the phone's innards, and torn out all sorts of things. Apparently not enough to stop it from functioning.
"So, I was gonna eat lunch, but, I didn't really wanna do it alone, you know?" You state, causing the figure's deep blue eyes to peer sagely into you. <span style="color:#8F00FF">"Most of the people she sends my way want something a little more substantial. You just...want to eat lunch. With a stranger."</span> Yea, that sounds about right.
[[Eat lunch with a stranger.|DSTD1]]"I don't actually have any food." You say, and the large robed figure's deep blue eyes blink slowly in response. After a prolonged pause, she produces a small plate from deep within her robes, and you take it into your hands. A piece of lasagna sits on the plate, actually, you've seen this //exact// piece of lasagna before, just this morning.
It tastes just as good the second time, as you chew into it. The giant woman just stares, obfuscated by her shadowy robes, until eventually she decides to lay lazily on her side. A shadowy fist props up her head, as the two of you just sit in silence. "...what," You start, getting memory lasagna all over the floor, "even is this place?" She looks around slowly, a slight 'hmmm' eminating from her center.
<<set $MetNiolesa to true>>
<span style="color:#8F00FF">"This was the first place your brain thought of, I don't know. There's nothing but darkness and stars outside, from what I saw. So. Space, but in this metal sarcophagus."</span> With a lazy motion of one of her free hands, you see the steel part above you, revealing the vast cosmos beyond. It's beautiful, and terrifying, unfathomably deep in nature. Air should be getting sucked out of this thing, you think.
And then it is, rapidly, and you're flying upward toward the violent tear in the ceiling, stopped only when it suddenly closes just in front of you with a chomping noise. Your heart is beating rapidly as you slowly land back at your lasagna, across from the giant lady. Neither your meal nor she moved, just you. <span style="color:#8F00FF">"Apparently you know a thing or two about space...maybe you couldn't tell, but, this isn't real. Stop making your mind panic. Panic is poison for dreams."</span>
Dreams. You're dreaming. It feels ''way'' too real for that, but, she looks like she knows about things, being so mysterious and veiled. "What's with the veil?" You ask immediately after acknowledging it. <span style="color:#8F00FF">"I am the distant relative of a distant star-birthed thing, powers drenched in dream and terror in equal parts. To behold me truly would be to undo your mind...and I'm not //decent// right now."</span> She motions slowly with a shadowy hand, and you can vaguely make out obfuscated breast and thigh.
The concept of her being an eldritch horror doesn't really bother your mind, or shake you existentially, as you continue chewing on memory lasagna. The way she talked made it seem like she was closer to person than not, really quite distant from something like ''No-Name''. "Your dream powers are cool." You say simply, causing her to nod slowly. <span style="color:#8F00FF">"Oh, yes, they really are. The dreaming mind has all sorts of interesting things just begging to see light of day, wouldn't you agree?"</span>
<<if $EI >= 1>>You shudder briefly. You've seen what lay in hiding in the minds of others, and it's terror and trauma. You can make out a too-large smile on her face in response to your shuddering, before it fades from view once more.<<else>>You stare over at her, vaguely confused, before shrugging. "People probably have all sorts of things in their brains, but I don't think dreaming in particular has any more access to that junk than being awake."<</if>>
Lunch goes on like that, with her watching you eat your flickering memory of a lasagna. Eventually you learn that she's named Niolesa, distant offspring of an offspring of a long-killed horror beyond comprehension. Her forefather was apparently killed around the invention of gunpowder, and as such the strange blood in her bloodline has been steadily getting weaker with each generation. She ''really'' wants to fix that, somehow, but in her spare time she's content to play around with and watch the lives of college students, apparently.
"...How'd Nedallia get your number?" You ask, but the dream-demon just titters in retort. <span style="color:#8F00FF">"In secrets lay strength, little guy. What you do here stays secret, but the same is true of others. Especially dear little Nedallia."</span> Fine, then..."Why Millerfield?" Niolesa's eyes seem to focus in on you ''deeply'', even from her lazing position. <span style="color:#8F00FF">"A favor for an answer, inquisitor."</span> She begins, turning onto her stomach, massive obfuscated face really quite close to you. Those glowing pools of blue all look at you with an immense focus, and you can feel cold breath hitting your legs.
<<set $Quest to true>>
<span style="color:#8F00FF">"There's a book in the library, 'Long-Dead Bloodlines of Nasty Star-Stuff', written by Tathalan Beibelar. Read it, and report back. Do that, and I'll humor your...//questions//."</span> Her stomach says the word 'questions' in a breathy tone, as if it's a sexy, taboo word for her to say. It works on you a little bit, but you try not to dwell on that.
[[Wake from this dream, with a quest.|WakedUp]]You wheeze as you wake, stretching, and pulling the paper from your face. It turns to cinders, then dust, then air in your hands. That was rather restful sleep, and you //do// feel vaguely full, so maybe there's some merit to eating imaginary dream lasagna. Whether or not you want to do the purple-texted dream-demon's quest is up to you, but it could be useful to have that kind of person on your side if push comes to shove.
<<set $KnowsParty to true>>
Or you could try to turn this into making fuck with a horror beyond comprehension. Really the sky's the limit, and there's something to be said about the attractiveness of mysterious scary women. You'd dwell further on this subject, but a quick check of your bed-bound phone reveals that it's very nearly time for your next class. Time flows fast when sleeping, apparently...
Rozzwell's nowhere to be seen in your room, either he's in a really long class, or he's //really// caught up with something. Either way, there's not much choice but to head to class. Checking the photo of your classes, and briefly consulting the help desk map, you know where to find Mystic Anthropology, as taught by Professor Nathidesh Strodev.
While making your way out of your room, you happen to pass by Marbles, the clown-girl from room 207. She waves hello, which causes your head to face her immediately. "Howdy, $name!" She exclaims, honking her nose a few times in greeting. She's recently covered her nose with some red sphere. It makes a loud honk each time she squeezes it.
"Hey, Marbles from room 207." You reply, which causes her to laugh. She gives a grand bowing motion to you, a recently added bowtie she's wearing spinning with a loud //whiiiiiirrrr//. "I hope all is most excellent with you, Sir RA of Room 213." Marbles begins to laugh, before standing straight once more. You look back and forward, trying to avoid trapping yourself in a dialogue loop, because your first instinct is to say hello again.
"Say, have you heard of the //low-key party// being hosted by some of the dorm-peeps tonight?" She asks, which snaps you out of your self-fighting loop. You shake your head no, which causes her to hop up and down a few times. Her shoes (a non-wooden pair of blue clogs that someone's drilled holes into the top of) squeak with each jump.
"Well, you're invited! It's mostly in celebration of the new arrivals, but it could be a cool way to connect with the peeps on the floor. //And// we can see how you get when crunk!" You don't know what a crunk is, but nod slowly. You'll consider it, depending on how the evening goes.
[[Socially disentangle, then proceed toward Mystic Anthropology.|MA0]]
[[Flirt with the clown-girl first.|MarblesFlirt0]]Through the tall pair of doors, you enter Mystic Anthropology. At the front of the classroom is a desk with a red-fleshed fellow, with horns jutting from his skull. This is a demon. He looks rather calm about that fact, as if being an infernal demon is just status quo, so it probably is. His desk has the name 'Professor Strodev' on it, so this demonic man with his circular tinted glasses must be your teacher.
<<if $SyllLunch is true>><<set $SyllAff to $SyllAff + 1>><</if>>
Soon enough you've stopped staring at your teacher so hard, and find your way to an empty desk. You appear to be sat next to Rumiyuko from room 210, and Laferl from 214. The TTRPG shirt-wearing girl pays you very little mind, but Laferl the goblin fellow immediately starts waving and talking in the minimal time before class begins. "I hope this class isn't as boring as it sounds, man." Laferl says, and you shrug.
<<set $MetStrodev to true>>
He talks about his inevitable joining of House KEK, about his constantly-amused roommate, about all the parties he'll go to once he's in House KEK. Soon enough the demon at the front of the room clears his throat, which stops Laferl's increasingly loud tangents. "That's all very interesting, Mister Laferl. But right now you're in my class, not Kappa Epsilon Kappa." Professor Strodev's spaded tail loops around a ruler and smacks it on his own desk to drive the point home.
His expression is utterly calm and uncaring, but he still goes through the motions of instilling order again. Once the class has quieted down around him, Professor Strodev nods gently, and adjusts his glasses. "Welcome to Mystic Anthropology, the only course that can confidently tell you what cursed idol was made by which specific ancient sect of fairy tricksters." He waits, before continuing, standing up from his desk.
Professor Strodev stands taller than any human should, and his designer peacoat has sleeves for his wings to come out from. "We'll be spending time on each major ancient mystical order and society, with a test at the end of each unit to ensure you retain some of what you read." He begins to draw on his whiteboard, chapters and pages. "We will discuss their languages, their texts, their diets, and what it meant to be them at that time in history."
[[Continue class.|MA1]]After a checking of your map, and a lot of wandering, you manage to stumble upon the large building that houses ZZZ. This one certainly sets an impression, with such a large, well-kept lawn, and its imposing size. You could fit a ''lot'' of people in that kind of house, and you know there's at least one person inside, peering out at you from a window. The figure moves out of view once it realizes you can see it in return.
Meeting you as you simply approach the large front doors is a small group of athletes, clearly more muscle than mind, eager to find out what you're doing on their lawn. "He don't really //look// like 3-Z material to me." The apparent leader says, to which the other two nod in agreement. "What're ya here for, little guy?" The second-in-command asks. The third, a butch-seeming girl, cracks her knuckles for emphasis of their dislike of strangers, before sheathing her fists in her pockets.
"Jerry works ''real hard'' on the lawn, y'know. Can't have knuckleheads like //you// stompin' all over it for no reason. Ain't that right Jerry!?" The leader yells back, to a halfling man you couldn't see through the bushes he was trimming. Jerry gives a thumbs up. You begin to articulate your latest response, but are distracted by a brief spark of light. The muscular crew is too.
The doors open, and Syllyvana steps out onto Jerry's well-kept lawn. Perhaps she'd step more gracefully, if her face wasn't the visage of focus. "Yenry." She says in a sort of greeting to the leader, then she briefly faces the others. "Others." With a wave of her hand, a warbling semi-transparent blue force envelops you, dragging you across the grass a few feet toward her, and away from Yenry and the others.
Yenry's underlings look toward their leader for guidance, but he just grunts, and motions for them to come with him. They disperse, with the second-in-command giving the universal hand-signal that he's 'watching you', while the more feminine of the three puts some gum into her mouth. <<if $Wands >= 3>><span style="color:#FF3333">//It's a neon green in coloration, taken from a package of 'Sport Goodly' brand energizing gum for athletes.//</span><</if>>
Once the three have left, Syllyvana releases you from her magical grasp, leaving your legs to readjust to gravity as normal. "What was that all about?" You ask, trying to see if the little man is still in the hedges or not. Syllyvana exhales gently, and gives your form a cursory glance. "Ah, they were just flexing power. It's what some do when they're losing control. To get an easy victory, I suspect." The elf shrugs swiftly, before looking back toward the house she came from.
"Come on, we won't have long to eat. I have another meeting in less than an hour." She begins to walk back inside. <<if $SyllAff >= 2>>She thinks for a very brief moment, before casting another spell, which sweeps you off of your feet, and sends you cozily hovering over to the front door. When you try to thank Syllyvana, she does not acknowledge you.<</if>>
[[Into 3Z|3ZSyllEat2]]The foyer of Z-Z-Z is large and beautiful, with a tiled slate floor and several portraits of distinguished looking individuals wearing the apparent uniform of 3Z adorning the walls. Two grand windows let light in from the outside into the foyer, with a lovely chandelier hanging from the ceiling, its deep purple flames powered by magic. There's a tall staircase heading upward to the second floor, and a ladder from there leading up to a presumed attic. 3Z's Fratrority House is wider than it is tall.
<<set $SyllLunch to true>>
Syllyvana pauses and waits patiently as you take everything in, seeming to notice your gradual refocusing on her person. "It's a gorgeous place to live, easy to forget that sort of thing without fresh eyes once in a while." She says, gently leading you <<if $SyllAff >= 2>>loosely by the hand<<else>>by the arm<</if>> toward one of many doorways in this place. Soon enough you find yourself sat at a dining table. There are others in here, chewing on something or typing endlessly at a laptop while quiet music plays through their headphones.
A few of the 3Z students peer at you as you enter, but when they notice Syllyvana leading you, they go back to what they were focused on before. They offer simple greetings toward her, and she offers a simple one in return, before leaving you alone here at the table. There's a pretty plant sat in a vase in the center of the table, but you're the only one really paying it any mind right now.
"So, are you a prospective initiate for Zeta Zeta Zeta, or just a friend of Syllyvana's?" A brown-haired, circular-glasses wearing girl asks you, all while continuing to type away at some kind of essay. Her skin is properly pink, making her some kind of magic-touched human. "I don't know if I'm either of those things." You reply simply, and she clicks her tongue once in response. "I see."
A bookish looking fellow, reading a gray book, shakes his head gently. "Initiates need to provide proof of prior aptitude in a field of study, or great success in pursuits either athletic, economic, or academic." He says, adjusting his glasses. "...and Syllyvana doesn't fraternize with anyone outside of Z-Z-Z, this is likely just testing some theory of hers. That makes him a guest, Rosemary." The bookish man states, and the girl apparently named Rosemary nods. "Syllyvana doesn't fraternize with random students...other than her brother, Nedallia, and Glynn. Unless you mean to suggest any of them are secretly members, Gerard." She retorts to the man apparently named Gerard. He doesn't have anything to offer to that statement, simply continuing to read.
"But you don't know her brother, do you?" A woman with a charming smile asks you, wearing a proper suit and tie. Her suit stands out amongst the two bookish-types, who seem more content to wear orange and white sweaters. You blink a few times. "He's on the same dorm-floor as me." You offer, but she shakes her head. "He doesn't know her brother, that can't be the reason she brought him in."
"So, it's an experiment, then." Gerard offers as the answer. "Tell us, young man, has Syllyvana offered you any kind of papers to sign, release forms, NDAs, that sort of thing?" He asks you, but before you can respond, Rosemary chuckles. "Oh, please, she's ten steps ahead of you, Gerard. Just accept that whatever this is, we're just some control group for it." Gerard huffs a bit, but keeps reading.
This bout of intellectual discourse is interrupted when Syllyvana returns with a bowl of fruit and a plate of sandwich. All that discourse and questioning ceases entirely in her actual presence. She sets the plate in front of you, and sits down with her bowl, <<if $SyllAff is 2>>next to you.<<else>>across from you.<</if>>
[[Enjoy your sandwich at this unforgettable luncheon.|3ZEat3]]Time freezes around you, noises grow mute, your bones lock in place, as you can do nothing but stare in immense detail. The man sat before you is a student, like you, based on the beaten up backpack he's wearing. If it weren't for that, you might presume this to be a homeless young adult that just gives people sandwiches.
His hair is quite the <span style="color:#d9b380">mess of curls, blonde in color.</span> It's not especially long, which essentially just means he doesn't have a blonde afro, but even in this state it strikes you as wild, impossible to tame hair. The sort that scissors can't cut on their own, the sort that doesn't stay put no matter what goes into it. Lower down lay <span style="color:gray">his distant eyes, unfocused things that are gray.</span> He doesn't strike you as blind, so that lack of attention has to be something else.
His flesh is somewhat sickly looking, in a lot of ways similar to Professor Sagax's own. There are a few strange splotches of <span style="color:#00ccff">vibrant blue here and there,</span> close to the bandages on his arms, that you don't understand the meaning of. His thin lips are smiling gently in your vague direction, with teeth that are far too pearly white for the rest of him.
He's wearing an <span style="color:#90D5FF">old blue hoodie,</span> with some vague faded design that reminds of a globe. It doesn't fit him perfectly, it's a little too big, and someone's torn one of the hoodie's arms clean off. When he moves too quickly, the sleeve raises on the left arm, reminding of the odd symmetry of his bandaging and blue splotching.
Beneath that loose hoodie you can vaguely see a pure white shirt, stained with...fluid, of some kind. This one seems to fit a lot better against his slim form. If he didn't look like a sick homeless student, his form might be described as graceful. Someone has torn stylish looking holes in <span style="color:#6F8FAF">his jeans, blue in coloration as well,</span> revealing somewhat toned legs. For running, dancing, jumping, or all three.
His worn black shoes for some unimaginable reason appear to have small slots in the bottom of them, where you could put a small wheel-shaped object, if you had two. He's not especially tall, a little below average for a human like he seems to be.
As far as strange miscellaneous details go: he smells bad, like booze and motor oil. He speaks very softly, almost soothingly. His hands are clean, and the nails neatly clipped, despite everything else about him, save for the teeth, being left to the whims of fate.
With that out of the way, what would you like to do?
[[Sit by this strange little man.|GirartLunch1]]
[[I do not want to sit by this man, please take me to my dorm.|DormLunch1]]Sure, why not. You sit down by him, and unwrap your newly gained sandwich, it's got meat and cheese on it, as well as some strange yellow substance that makes your face try to invert from the taste. Mustard. The campus is pretty from the bench, and there are all sorts of folk walking around. You think you can see Not-Trevor speeding off in a roofless car with that smart lady, to get their own lunch.
//"You're new here."// He says, suddenly, while producing a little pouch from his hoodie's pockets. One of the cat-sized greater doves nearby approach him for whatever delicious goodness lay in that sack, soon sated by breadcrumbs. Lucky bastard didn't even have to sit down for that crumb-stuff. "Yeah, I just got here today. I'm $name."
<<set $MetGirart to true>>
You somehow manage to repress the reflex to state that you're the new RA, replacing Rozzwell. He nods quickly, and continues feeding the birds, eyes distant. There's an awkward silence broken up by more of those cute fat birds fluttering over for free breadcrumbs. You chew your sandwich rapidy, not really used to total social silence from someone you freshly meet.
//"I-"// He begins, voice still a whisper, before scratching rapidly at some unseen itch on his neck. //"-help you reach your answers."// He says suddenly, blinking a few times, and putting up his crumb-bag. The birds scatter as he starts kicking his feet rapidly. //"Girart. Girart, call me- call me Girart."// Girart whispers, leaning over to your ear. He smells like fermented motor oil, and you reasonably scoot away from him. Help you find your answers, huh?
"What do you mean?" You ask, there are a //few// things you might want answers to, including the self. He quickly faces toward an attractive pink-haired woman walking by, making searing eye-contact with her, before pointing her toward a seemingly random building. She blinks a few times, briefly shuddering, before turning and going to that building.
Girart the trash-oracle leans against you, laying on the bench now. //"Need a- need one of those...I need- a...blue. Y'know."// He says, motioning toward some of the unpleasant looking blue blotches on his arms, close to the bandages. You in fact do not know. "What." You say, eloquently. //"The- find, find-"// Girart's gray eyes lose all focus entirely, as he briefly goes limp like a corpse, staring directly into the sun. You think staring at the sun is bad, so you shield his eyes a bit.
You don't know how long you just sit there by a corpse-man, but eventually he starts breathing and blinking again. //"Under a stone, by the- it's by the fountain. Under a stone. Brick. Out of place. Bring it to me, and the- I'll tell."// He says with hand gestures that do not help you understand what he means. You check your map, the fountain isn't very far for you, but based on how this man teeters ambiently, he'd probably take hours to get there.
[[Get the blue for the trash-man.|Fountain0]]
[[This is strange enough for one day, bail for your next class.|Bail0]]You have no interest in sitting by this stranger, but taking sandwiches from strangers seems reasonable. You grip the sandwich tight, in its lovely paper wrapping, and get to your dorm to eat there. Through the sea of students, beyond the catboy's domain, up some stairs, and into room 213. Rozzwell is nowhere to be seen, so you have to eat alone, sadly.
You decide against sitting in your room totally isolated around the same time you hear a knocking on your door. When you open it, there's one of the two redhead twins from room 202. Based on the gender-neutral clothing, and androgynous appearance, you have no idea whether this is Sally or Sal. Their speaking doesn't make it any more apparent. "RA, good, you're home."
You nod and bite into your precious bench sandwich. "I am home." You reply sagely. The twin smiles gently, and informs you, "I'm Sal, by the by. You can tell because I enjoy the sophistication of theatrics." Fascinating stuff. Eventually, he continues, putting a hand on your door gently. "Are you pledging any...fratorities?" He asks, almost conspiritorially.
<<set $KnowsParty to true>>
You don't think you are, so you shake your head. The twin claps gently, //theatrically//, before smiling wide at you. "Good. There's a new-comer friendly party happening tonight. At the old train tracks in the town. You're invited, since you're one of those new-comers." Huh, neat. Your map doesn't have anything but the campus on it, but you remember seeing those tracks when you first arrived.
"Why did you ask if I was pledging?" You query, and Sal looks back and forward a little. "We just don't want any of them crashing this party for some pledge-board...this is a smaller party than something the BADs would host, we don't need them showing up." He rubs his arm nervously, still smiling somewhat. "It isn't very new-comer friendly if the fratrorities war over crashing it."
That could be fun to do later on, but you don't want to commit, in case something else draws your interest. So you offer a fierce maybe, and continue consuming sandwich. Sal seems to accept that, his gaze lingering on you for a little bit too long, before he ultimately walks off.
You exit the room, and finish your sandwich while sitting in the hall. The noise and movement brings you closer to true peace. You happen to notice Rumiyuko exiting her dorm room, and heading down the stairs. She seems a little agitated, which taints her otherwise self-assured intellectual aura. Before you finally get up and go to class, you happen to notice a somewhat attractive tall girl with inky black curly hair handing a little leather pouch to Exter from Room 215.
You've never seen this tall girl before, and she seems to give you a slight smile while walking by. <<if $PactSealed is true>>You wave hello, and she seems to pause her stride. She turns to face you properly, and quickly walks over. "Oh, hey there...you're the new RA, right?" The tall-girl squats in front of you, plucking your trash from your hands and stuffing it away into her jacket. That's probably normal. You nod.
Her eyes look you up and down slowly, focusing on your crotch for a prolonged time. "Packing heat, sir, or just happy to see me?" She asks, running a hand along your shoulder. She smells like vanilla, for some reason, and it's growing pretty apparent where this will head if you let it. You start to question all of this, but she sweetly shushes you. "//Shhhhh...//I'm just looking to have some fun, and you seem like a //fun// guy, y'know?"
[[Lead this tall girl to your room, she must like you for your choice in sandwich.|ShapeFun0]]
[[What the hell is this all about?|ShapeNoneFun0]]
<<elseif $Coin >= 3>>You wave hello, with your //award-winning smile,// which seems to draw her interest. She walks over to you, and peers down with a slight smile adorning her pretty face. She smells like vanilla. "Well, aren't you charming?" She asks, not waiting for an answer before looking your body up and down. Her beautiful eyes stop for a short moment around your crotch, before she seems to return to looking down into your eyes.
"Charming //and// packing, what a treat...look, I'll be frank with you...I only vaguely know who you are, you don't know me, but I'm feeling ''good'' right now...and we could both use some..." She leans over, bent strangely overtop you so that she can whisper down at your ear, "//...rough fucking...//" The black-haired babe smiles down at you. "Right?"
[[Hell yeah!|ShapeFun0]]
[[There's definitely something else going on here, right?|ShapeNoneFun0]]
<<else>>You wave hello, and she winks, before heading down the stairs, out of sight. Getting up, you follow, but there's no-one down here but Hilx and some unrelated blue-haired human talking to him.
[[Head over to Mystical Anthropology, in its ordinary classroom.|MA0]]<</if>>You nod in non-verbal agreement, leap to your feet from the bench, and walk over toward the campus' fountain like a superhero. As you're walking, you happen to notice an attractive tall girl walking the same direction as you. She also seems to notice this. She stops briefly, staring at you somewhat confused, but you do not have that reaction built into your brain, and as such you quickly overtake her.
The fountain is a beautiful thing, drinking its own water and vomiting it back up for all of eternity, in no particular shape other than a pretty one. It's a large thing, with several benches around it, but there's no time to get distracted by that, you have to find //blue.//
Under a brick, clearly out of place, you scan the perimeter of the fountain powerfully. Indeed, there's a brick atop the outer...wall-thing...of the fountain that's clearly partially elevated. With your hawk-like interest, you shuffle forward, and can make out a faint blue glow from beneath it. As you raise it, the tall girl from earlier taps your shoulder a few times.
"Hey, uh, that's...//my brick.//" She says, in a hushed tone for the part that incriminates the brick. Looking up at her, you see that she is indeed quite tall, maybe seven feet tall, with beautiful inky black hair, curly and poofy. She resembles not a human, nor elf, nor half-elf with her facial features, which are oddly beautiful. You blink a few times now, easily distracted by attractive women, but your hand remains on the brick.
[[Give this pretty lady the brick.|Shape -1]]
[[This blue is spoken for by a stinky oracle person.|ShapeConflict0]]You stand up off of the bench suddenly, and throw away the paper your sandwich was once in. Girart waves in the direction you were once standing in, and you wave back. You have no interest in getting blue from under a random brick for this fellow, and as such quickly hurry to the direction of your next class. Mystic Anthropology, taught by Professor Nathidesh Strodev, lay in another huge building.
You need not walk too long to find it, it's the same building the pink-haired girl went to after Girart stared and pointed. As you push open the doors to the tall building, you think you can see her talking to some guy with a slight smile on her face, shuffling a little in place. People call this love, you think, or at least infatuation. Did Girart cast a love-spell on her, or just tell her where to find this guy? One of these options is an infringement on her free will. Do love spells even real?
You don't have time to ponder that, your legs have already carried you to the next class. Unlike previously, the professor does not help you inside, into what appears to be a more traditional classroom. Some random student holds the door for you, and you enter thoughtlessly. "Uh...you're welcome." You blink a few times, then look over.
It appears to be Rumiyuko from room 210, black hair cut into bangs. "Thank." You say, remembering that you need to say that to people. She shrugs, and heads inside as well.
[[Into the unknown.|MA0]]It's made up of a gray stone, much like the fountain and much like the pathways running through the campus. It currently lays awkwardly on its side, as if lifted and tossed carelessly for one reason or another. With a bit of focus, and a lot of pacing around the fountain while pretending to throw an invisible brick, you're able to gradually puzzle together where it may've been thrown from.
After a decent chunk of time going through the motions while facing the direction of the brick, you come to the conclusion that it was displaced by a person-sized thing. This person-sized thing likely tossed it weakly, without much focus, because when you go through the motions, your imaginary brick lands way further than where the real one ended up.
As you finish your investigation, you can confidently conclude that a person carelessly threw this brick, probably while not looking at where it landed, for...some reason. You can't immediately determine from //where// the brick was thrown, a consequence of the weak throw and lack of intent in its displacement. If you were willing to spend a comical amount of time combing over the ground and fountain for missing bricks, maybe you'd find it, but it's definitely time for class.
[[Walk to class, enlightened but defeated.|MA0]]You swiftly approach the incorrected brick, and kneel next to it. Someone's put a tiny, miniscule amount of a deep blue substance on the side of it facing the fountain. The poor thing never asked to be displaced like this, and as such you quickly set out to brick-empath your way to figuring out where it belongs.
It is not simply following ''vibes'', it is following the specific vibes that you get from the brick based on where you try to rest it. This brick likes the water, but dislikes being in it, it would much prefer a sea-side house than a boat. With that in mind, you shuffle around the fountain, staring first at the ground around it, then deeply at the brickwork of the fountain itself.
A decent chunk of time passes, but you think you've found it. Some uncaring God has improperly filled the hole in the brickwork this little soldier came from with an ill-fitting nerd brick. What of his wife, what of his kids, how can they not notice this falsehood stealing his life? You blink a few times, and look at the brick in its stolen home. You might have a serious brain thing going on.
Maybe the new brick was put here because it had nowhere else to fit in, maybe the old brick wanted to be thrown out. Why would he want that, that's...selfish, so, so selfish. Are they not good enough? Is this not good enough? Why can't he be satisfied? You pluck the new brick from its home, and slot your mystery brick back into place. Peace.
You don't see any place at all for the other brick, so rather than spend another eternity seeking out its home, you set it gently atop the other. You vow to stop using the mystic and dangerous arts of brick-empathy from here on, that got weird fast.
[[You've spent way too long on this, get to class.|MA0]]You nod along with her, and she smiles a gorgeous smile with too-white teeth. You pick up the brick, and place it into her hands. She's clearly confused again, seeming to squint at you briefly as she has to determine if you're playing a joke on her, before finally grabbing whatever lay under the brick originally. Some kind of flat pouch.
The pretty tall girl pockets it, still smiling somewhat, and seems to think for a bit. Peering down into your eyes, she speaks very quietly for a moment, //"I don't know why you checked for this brick in particular, but..."// She puts a hand on your shoulder, tightening her grasp violently. Her eyes don't have pupils anymore.
//"...make sure it doesn't happen again."// She releases your shoulder, inky black hair looking as if it's liquid flowing. She simply walks off, then skips off, as if an excited child. Freaky, and upsetting. You gained nothing for what you've done here today, but you didn't steal someone's vaguely glowing pouch, so...that has to count for something. You consider returning to that trash-oracle, but don't feel up to it without the task completed.
<<set $SeenGlow to true>>
Walking off from the brick, the fountain, and the non-pouch, you head over to class, another tall imposing building made up of brick. Following the crowd inside, you need not look too long to find the regular classroom that Professor Nathidesh Strodev is presumably within. "Fuckin'...hey, $name. Funny seeing you here."
You look around, then down, and see the goblin fellow talking at you as you both head in the direction of Mystic Anthropology. This is Laferl, from room 214, but he has no roommate next to him to bounce his cynicism off of. He seems content to grumble about the construction of the building to himself, and about his long list of first-day gripes.
Laferl just walks into the room, letting the door close behind him. He's not a polite fellow, is he?
[[Enter the classroom, and engage in learning.|MA0]]You're probably only going to get one chance to make it out of here with this brick, as the lady's eyes focus in on you pretty fiercely while waiting for you to relinquish 'her brick'. Your brain is positively buzzing with possible ideas to get away with this brick, some of which sound more sane than others. You're starting to notice that she doesn't seem to breathe.
<<set $ShapeInterest to true>>
[[Convince her that this is in fact your brick, not hers.|SCCoin]]
[[Run with the brick-hidden goodies until you do not see her.|SCWands]]
[[Use force to claim this brick for yourself.|SCSwords]]Inhale. Exhale. Find your calm. Embrace your speech of silk, and weave a new reality for this somewhat unnerving beauty to believe in.
<<if $Coin >= 4>>There's a reason she hasn't just pried it from your grasp, and that's because she knows there's a chance this //isn't// her brick. Maybe she was sent here by someone, like you were? "Hey, I understand, you're confused that I'm here, I am too." You say with utter confidence. "...but don't worry about picking this one up, sexy, I've got it all handled." You exude an unseen aura of reliability.
She grimaces somewhat, sighing. "You got here ''today'', and they're already giving you work?" It doesn't seem like the kind of question she expects you to answer, it isn't you she's upset with now. Her eyes refocus on you for a moment, as she scrutinizes you profusely. You note that her poofy ink-colored hair seems looks as if it's fluid and flowing, as she smiles wide as if nothing is wrong. "If they want to test you with this, fine. Their funeral."
<<set $StoleDrugs to true>>
She puts her hands in the pockets of her jacket, and walks off from you, leaving the brick for your taking. You lift it in its entirety, and notice a cool pouch underneath. Its interior glows a gentle blue, and you decide to pocket that instead of the brick. You slot the brick back into place, and wait for her to leave before returning to the trash-oracle.
[[Return to the parkbench.|BrickSuccess]]<<else>>Put on your charm, press what advantage you hold. The ball is in your court, just verbally strike it and put this game of conversation into check. "I hate to disappoint you, pretty woman, but this brick is mine. You can't have it." She looks amused, with too-white teeth broadly displayed as she chuckles and smiles. "Sure. Keep the brick." She says, slowly walking half-circles around you.
It feels like being circled by a shark, and you've never even seen one of those. She's just smiling at you the whole time, occasionally pausing to lean against the fountain. Eventually, after one of those leans, she just adjusts slightly and walks off. At first she walks, then she begins to skip, like an excited child. Once she's out of view, you lift the brick, only to find nothing beneath it. Shit.
You've been had! She didn't even seem to pause near the brick, so you have no idea how she took whatever treasure lay under it.
[[Go to class after your crippling loss of a brick-treasure.|MA0]]<</if>>Your leg twitches somewhat as you prepare yourself, it's the left one, which apparently needs to get ready before the other one. She doesn't notice this, it's a barely visible twitch. You can make out a blue glow beneath the brick, that's probably the real prize that both of you are after.
<<if $Wands >= 4>>You twist in an instant, gripping the brick and what lay under it, before taking off. The tall girl is taken aback by your sudden sprint, which gives you a good headstart. You rush rapidly beyond the fountain, but your keen mind quickly realizes you're not going anywhere in particular. She's giving pursuit now, so you quickly plot a route going off of map-based memory that should throw her off.
<<set $StoleDrugs to true>>
As you take a sharp turn, into Gobgaks Hall, you naturally hear her throwing the doors open in chase. You're not expecting to see her bounding over toward you on all fours, like a rabid animal, but she is. In the brief instant you peered at her, you saw no features on her face at all. Horrifying, but great inspiration to keep moving. You suddenly burst through the empty room that Professor Sagax taught in earlier, then rush toward and out an open window.
Tumbling outside a bit, you keep going. You've never had to run for this length of time before, and for some reason that same left leg is full of an immense burning anguish at the stress you're putting it through, so you need to finish this quickly. Glancing around, you notice another window on Gobgaks Hall, and let yourself in before swiftly shutting it. You decide against obviously peering out of the window to see her, but you can hear her still galloping around out there like a raving lunatic, and you swear you can hear her running up the walls.
There's a bit of shouting after a nervous pause, a vibrant building static sensation that makes your hairs stand on-end, then a shockwave of sorts. Someone cast a spell of some kind, and you're full of leftover dread, but the brick is yours. You wait a few minutes more in the empty lab, and produce the secret treasure that came with the brick.
A small, flattened pouch whose interior glows somewhat. A vibrant, beautiful blue glow. You pocket it, amazed that you kept ahold of both this pouch //and// the brick through this all. Without your iconic bag to help you, you're not eager to carry a brick around, so you set it down in the lab before dusting yourself off.
[[Bring the glowing sack to the bench-lad.|BrickSuccess]]<<elseif $Cups >=4>>As quick as a giant hawk, you turn and flee, holding the brick and whatever's beneath tightly. You don't have a plan, not really, but you're making good distance while she blinks in confusion from your sudden sprint. As you near a crowd of students that peer at you somewhat confused, it strikes you that every single time you've had to navigate somewhere there was a sea of people that you didn't really notice the characteristics of.
<<set $StoleDrugs to true>>
You suddenly slow down, and submerge in the crowd, moving from it to another one that didn't notice you sprinting like a maniac holding a brick. You get a few looks, but everyone's in their own worlds, and mostly just keep their idle curiosity about the brick and glowing blue beneath it to themselves. You slide the hidden prize into your pocket, giving it a vague glance. Some sort of flat pouch that's filled with a glowing blue substance. You leave the brick behind as quietly and swiftly as you can, and just keep walking.
You know that she's still looking for you, but the sea does not part for anyone, and it does not know your face when she looks for it. In a crowd, you are normal, you are shielded from the outside world. You continue this charade for a while more, slowly making your way back to the bench, but not disentangling until you're sure she's given up the hunt.
[[To the bench, with your prize.|BrickSuccess]]<<else>>You turn on your heels, grip the brick and whatever secret is underneath, and make a break for it. You're fast, and for the first few moments you're not chased, since she's clearly taken aback. You have no plan, and no idea how to keep this distance, but you try your best.
At first she simply calls out, then when that doesn't stop you in your tracks, she begins to sprint after you. She's not faster than you like this, but given your head start, you're probably going to exhaust before she does. You shove your way past a crowd of students, you sprint beyond Gobgaks Hall, you pass the tree that you were under with Nedallia. Perhaps you'd keep sprinting, if it weren't for the infernal pain building up rapidly in your left leg, that accursed thing, why does it wish for your failure?
You look over your shoulder, and see that she's kept roughly the same distance with you, so you hurry up to the tree, and climb it as fast as you can. You shield yourself from your incoming failure with leaves and branches, and soon enough she's standing there beneath you. She does not pant, or breathe, but she does wipe a great deal of sweat from her face, raising her shirt from under her jacket to get it out of her eyes.
"Hand it over," She says, shivering, "...and I'll forget this all happened." You look at the brick in your hand, at the strange glowing pouch that was once hidden beneath it, and run your fingers over it. You're not going to be able to run again anytime soon, and she's not leaving until you relent, there's no way this is reaching the trash-oracle.
[[Drop the brick and pouch down to her.|BrickFailure]]
[[If the oracle can't have it, no-one can. Eat the bag.|ThenIGotHigh0]]<</if>>There's only one good solution for taking something you want that someone else thinks is theirs, and it's the one that uses brute force. You have enough brain to know that you probably shouldn't use the brick you're clutching as a bludgeoning weapon, because then you'll definitely get expelled. Yes, expelled, that's the worst punishment you could face here. Surely.
<<if $Swords >= 4>>Her stance is threatening, but unbalanced. This is someone that's only had to fight on the streets, no discipline to back up her random chunks of experience. You don't have experience in either of those things, you don't think, but you can still capitalize on her lack of balance. You toss the brick into the air, as well as the strange little pouch beneath it, which obviously draws her attention. In the mere moment she spends confused, you leg-sweep her, and push her back with your now emptied hands.
<<set $StoleDrugs to true>>
With a thud, she lands. You don't run, you just push her back down when she starts to rise, and catch the brick and pouch. "This brick, and this bag, it's mine. Not yours. Not with //that// stance." You say, gesticulating wildly. She blinks a few times, confused, and clearly not pleased. She reaches into her pocket, before grimacing, and nodding. "Alright. Buddy. It's yours." She doesn't get up until you're already far, far away from her.
She goes the opposite direction from you, hand in her jacket, grimacing even now. No need to unpack whatever that attempt to grab something was, you have a delivery to complete.
[[To the trash-oracle!|BrickSuccess]]<<else>>WIth a flick of your wrist, you quickly hurl water from the fountain into her eyes, before shoving her backwards with all your might. She reaches out and grabs you mid-fall, and because of laws of physics that you cannot comprehend, you fall atop her. She tightens her grasp on you while wiping the water from her eyes quickly. "You...fucker!" She exclaims, wrestling and twisting beneath you before eventually overpowering you and ending up atop you.
She holds you there, beneath her, for a time, briefly chuckling a little perversely when she notices the positioning. "Heh, heh...that's funny, it's almost like I'm riding you..." She mutters, before using her free hand to grab your wrist tightly, squeezing harshly until you release the brick and pouch from it. She scoops up the pouch and pockets it, all while you struggle and writhe beneath her like a rabid animal.
She takes a good look at your wiggling form, before blowing you a kiss, and getting up. "See ya never, loser..." She begins to skip off, making quick distance with her long legs. You scramble back up, and contemplate chasing, or throwing a brick, but ultimately decide that probably wouldn't look great. You're amazed that no-one saw what went down here so far, and pushing your luck probably wouldn't go well.
[[Head to class in defeat.|MA0]]<</if>>Heading back to the bench that Girart's sat at, you occasionally glance around to make sure you aren't being secretly followed by the tall woman. Eventually reaching the bench in question, and quietly sitting down, you produce the bag from your pocket like a magician. The unwashed fellow's eyes truly focus for the first time, and he plucks it from your hands like a funny fruit.
Girart whispers and gestures, and squints fiercely, before morphing the gorgeous blue glow inside the pouch into a molten fluid. In one swift motion, he drops the rapidly soaking pouch into a big resealable plastic bag. You watch as the pouch disintegrates entirely in the beautiful glowing fluid, while Girart limply feels around in his pockets. Eventually he produces a syringe, and draws from the fluid, smiling to himself and humming.
You intuitively understand that this is drug, and that Girart is in fact shooting up the drug, and since drugs are generally seen as illegal, you have to look around rapidly. No-one's immediately nearby, luckily, and when you look back at him, the syringe and bag are gone, and Girart's dull eyes are <span style="color:#90D5FF">glowing a gentle blue.</span>
<span style="color:#90D5FF">"A-a-a-ah-h-h-h. . . That's better."</span> He says, no longer whispering. <span style="color:#90D5FF">"Thanks a billion. Ask me about your past, future, or now, and the answer is yours for your help today."</span> The oracle reaches out his hands, putting them palms-up and waiting for your response.
"I think you made me steal someone's drugs." You say, to which the fellow nods gently. <span style="color:#90D5FF">"Yes, I did. But they have more, and I need hard magical stimulants to focus on my present. If this is about guilt, find a better hill to die on. If it's about fear, then, I'm sure you had an out you didn't take."</span> He isn't incorrect, but you might appreciate being told about stealing drugs pre-heist next time.
Now only the question remains.
[[I want to know about my past.|CompPast0]]
[[I want to know about my present.|CompPresent0]]
[[I want to know about my future.|CompFuture0]]Yea, alright. You drop the pouch down to her, and she just dodges out of the way when you also drop the brick. She shivers a few more times, before seeming to regain her composure, and smiling to herself. The tall girl just pockets the pouch, and skips right away. She doesn't talk to you at all, apparently keeping good on her word to just forget about this whole thing.
After you've rested your aching body for a little while, you have to get out of the tree, and stop disturbing the poor brass squirrels in their own homes. You hold your left leg for a moment, rubbing it gently to try to tell it to keep its shit together, then start walking over to class. You are not at all eager to do this running for your life thing again.
Following your pocket-map, you eventually arrive at the tall building that Mystic Anthropology lies within. The crowd of students is largely absent by now, but your phone doesn't seem to think class has started just yet. Reaching for the door, you let yourself in.
[[Enter a more traditional classroom.|MA0]]This isn't a victory, but it is a mutual loss, some would call that a draw. While she stares up at you, waiting, you drop the brick down the tree at her. She side-steps it, making an impatient face, but not impatient enough to stop you from swallowing the small bag and its contents. Her eyes widen profusely, then she begins to curse, starting to climb the tree herself.
<<set $StoleDrugs to true>>
"Fucking spit that out, you stupid motherfucker!" She shouts, passing branches, and leaves, and finally reaching you. She grabs you by the throat, and pries open your mouth with her free hand, but trembles in rage when she sees you've already gulped down the pouch. "That was fucking //unprocessed//, you braindead ''FUCK!''" She screams, pushing you out of the tree, tumbling down onto the ground. It hurts, but not as badly as your leg did earlier.
<<set $DidGlow to true>>
She slides down after you, puts her hands into her pockets, and leans down, staring deeply at your face. Your body aches all over, you think you can taste metal for some reason. "If you can't puke that up ten seconds ago, you're dying. I don't know healing magic, so..." She grimaces at you with hatred, walking off. pausing, and looking back at you again for some reason. There's a conflicted sigh that exits her mouth, before she seems to make a phone call.
You stare up at the branches you fell from, the sky, the pretty shapes of the clouds, and then at the angry lady and her phone. The grass is starting to look so much more ''<span style="color:red">v</span><span style="color:cyan">i</span><span style="color:orange">b</span><span style="color:green">r</span><span style="color:yellow">a</span><span style="color:violet">n</span><span style="color:gold">t</span>'' than it did a few moments ago, and the lady is looking so much more attractive. Actually, no, she just looks...different? Everything looks different, you're
f
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''N''
[[WAKE UP.|CompStuff]]Vibrant, long flowing star-stuff immerses you, a sea of glowing gorgeous <span style="color:orange">oranges</span>, <span style="color:gold">golds</span>, and <span style="color:red">reds</span>. You lay on your back, carried about this vibrant lovely river of god-tears, and when you ponder and reach out a transparent hand, you make galaxies birth. You do not know for how long you've been here, like this, for there is not time, you simply are or aren't, and presently you are.
In this river, in this river of omnipotence, you are all, and that is soothing. You ride ever-further, slowly and calmly toward the inky abyss, which does not yet horrify you. In a flash of being are not instead of are, you gasp for air, and your arm limply slops in the direction of your pocket. You can't see in color right now, in the aren't, and the woman has left you alone under your tree. It isn't time for class, so there are definitely students //around,// but would you really interrupt someone laying beneath a tree so peacefully?
You're back in the river, back in the are. Thoughts of being not here leave quickly, but dull positive emotions remain, memories of warmth remain just fine. None of that can be found where you were laying, so they are all but forgotten. You are closer to that abyss now, and it begins to gnaw at you somewhat. There are rattling chains in there, and cracked glass. It is calm there, in the abyss, but there is no power to be found within, only darkness.
Your starful transparent arm moves limply, opening and closing, bringing radiance to your view. It's beautiful, alike no other sensation in this or any world, even as you begin to travel down the waterfall into the abyss. Your body is too limp to fight the stream, the river, that you laze in, but somehow, someway, it will not fall into that places where you can see eyes peering in wait. Something holds you from the jaws of oblivion, but what?
[[Silver-Swords. She can pull me out of this.|QWRTYSave0]]
[[Black-Cups. He will navigate this place with me.|RozzSave0]]
[[Pink-Coin. She can guide me with her voice.|SleeSave0]]
[[Gold-Wands. She will see when others refuse.|SyllSave0]]While falling into the inky black, you reach out your hand, and motion limply, reaching for the hand that can pull you out of this place. You focus deeply on what the silver statue embodies, and smile since that is all this place will let you do. Somehow those three things feel important to you in the moment, and to your slight surprise, the flickering silhouette of a hand does reach down and pull you out of the abyss, out of the river of star-stuff.
You wake, coughing uncontrollably, everything about your body hurts, and you're not entirely able to move, but you can breathe. Your eyes adjust to the return of color, of existing, and you realize that you are in a pool of blue-colored vomit. Some of it is red, but that's likely just from internal bleeding. There's no-one here with you, you don't even know why you reached out to Quwertee, you definitely don't have her number, and there's no telling if she'd even show up.
You slowly stand, dripping, and shaking. Your left leg's no longer angry with you, and despite laying in your own drug-puke, it does not stick to you. You don't know how long you were out, but a quick check of your phone that your half-alive body was reaching out for, it wasn't very long at all. Five minutes that should have killed you, and yet your body is fine.
As you look around, you note that a few concerned students have started approaching, but they would have been too late. This was something from within. Emotion, intention, and focus. You must have cast a spell somehow, while in that state. You scurry away from the scene of your defeat, somehow not smelling unusual after that. Something is wrong with you. A faculty member that reminds of a nurse is also heading toward the hill as you pass by. Was that who the tall lady called?
You're not eager to ask her, you're not eager to sprint ever again, actually. Your light-headedness tells you that you //are// eager to slow down and drink water, however, so you go to the strange metal constructions that people drink from and drink heavily. For minutes, you drink, and the headache leaves you, as well as the staggering. You lost a lot of fluid earlier, apparently.
Part of you wants nothing more than to lay down forever, but you can't stop yet. You still have to get to Mystic Anthropology. Taught by Professor Nathidesh Strodev. You don't have the capacity for rest until the evening, that's just the law of nature.
[[To class, then.|MA0]]As you fall into the abyss, you are amazed to see a flickering silhouette belonging to your RA, your roommate, your emotionally distant guide, who can shield you from this awful place. You focus as he moves purposefully, eager to escape. He slowly reaches behind his skull, and produces your hand. You do the same, and produce his, the two of you pulling until you're free of this awful place.
You blink a few times, wheezing for air as you wake, vision slowly coming back to you. You lay in a large puddle of blue-hued puke, some tainted by the blood from your body dying, but mostly it is blue. Rozzwell can heal people, but you have no idea where he is, why did you reach out for him? You don't even have his number, despite your hand clutching your phone seeming to think otherwise.
You slowly stand, dripping, and shaking. Your left leg's no longer angry with you, and despite laying in your own drug-puke, it does not stick to you. You don't know how long you were out, but a quick check of your phone that your half-alive body was reaching out for, it wasn't very long at all. Five minutes that should have killed you, and yet your body is fine.
As you look around, you note that a few concerned students have started approaching, but they would have been too late. This was something from within. Emotion, intention, and focus. You must have cast a spell somehow, while in that state. You scurry away from the scene of your defeat, somehow not smelling unusual after that. Something is wrong with you. A faculty member that reminds of a nurse is also heading toward the hill as you pass by. Was that who the tall lady called?
You're not eager to ask her, you're not eager to sprint ever again, either. Your light-headedness tells you that you //are// eager to slow down and drink water, however, so you go to the strange metal constructions that people drink from and drink heavily. For minutes, you drink, and the headache leaves you, as well as the staggering. You lost a lot of fluid earlier, apparently.
Part of you wants nothing more than to lay down forever, but you can't stop yet. You still have to get to Mystic Anthropology. Taught by Professor Nathidesh Strodev. You don't have the capacity for rest until the evening, that's just the law of nature.
[[To class, then.|MA0]]While falling down, down, down, into the eternal night, you can't help but pause when you hear a shouted <span style="color:#90D5FF">"Not yet! That's the wrong direction, you have to keep fighting, keep swimming! This isn't even the end of your first day, are you going to let it be the end of your life!?"</span> She raises a good point, even if you can't see her. You need to keep fighting, you intently listen, you focus on where her voice is coming from, and you claw desperately.
You violently sputter and spit up as you wake up, in a pool of blue and red puke. The blue is from the drug, the red must be from you. <<if $PactSealed is true>>You might be in a magical pact with Sleanne, but there was no way that she would be able to reach you without an actual way of reaching out. <<else>>Sleanne would've been in class, or in her room, you don't even have her number, she never would've reached you in time. <</if>>So why did you call out to her in particular?
You slowly stand, dripping, and shaking. Your left leg's no longer angry with you, and despite laying in your own drug-puke, it does not stick to you. You don't know how long you were out, but a quick check of your phone that your half-alive body was reaching out for, it wasn't very long at all. Five minutes that should have killed you, and yet your body is fine.
As you look around, you note that a few concerned students have started approaching, but they would have been too late. This was something from within. Emotion, intention, and focus. You must have cast a spell somehow, while in that state. You scurry away from the scene of your defeat, somehow not smelling unusual after that. Something is wrong with you. A faculty member that reminds of a nurse is also heading toward the hill as you pass by. Was that who the tall lady called?
You're not eager to ask her, you're not eager to sprint ever again, actually. Your light-headedness tells you that you //are// eager to slow down and drink water, however, so you go to the strange metal constructions that people drink from and drink heavily. For minutes, you drink, and the headache leaves you, as well as the staggering. You lost a lot of fluid earlier, apparently.
Part of you wants nothing more than to lay down forever, but you can't stop yet. You still have to get to Mystic Anthropology. Taught by Professor Nathidesh Strodev. You don't have the capacity for rest until the evening, that's just the law of nature.
[[To class, then.|MA0]]As sweet oblivion begins to lay claim to you, you are amazed to find a pair of eyes staring down at you from the waterfall. She gives but a gesture, and you begin to see stairs and paths you couldn't see before, illuminated by a vibrant magical spell. You focus deeply on the paths out of here, on the wonder of her magical prowess, and hurry to escape this awful place.
When you wake, there is no-one by your side, no magical savior, only you in a pool of mostly blue throw up. What bits of the vomit that aren't blue are instead the color of your blood, which stinks to high hell. <<if $SyllPhone is true>>You have your phone clutched in your hand as if it could save you from your drug-induced death-trip, but there was no way you could call someone in this state. Was there another reason you chose Syllyvana to save you, then?<<else>>You don't have her number, and despite her immense intellect, she isn't an omnipresent telepath. She never could've known you were dying. Why did you reach out to her, then?<</if>>
You slowly stand, dripping, and shaking. Your left leg's no longer angry with you, and despite laying in your own drug-puke, it does not stick to you. You don't know how long you were out, but a quick check of your phone that your half-alive body was reaching out for, it wasn't very long at all. Five minutes that should have killed you, and yet your body is fine.
As you look around, you note that a few concerned students have started approaching, but they would have been too late. This was something from within. Emotion, intention, and focus. You must have cast a spell somehow, while in that state. You scurry away from the scene of your defeat, somehow not smelling unusual after that. Something is wrong with you. A faculty member that reminds of a nurse is also heading toward the hill as you pass by. Was that who the tall lady called?
You're not eager to ask her, you're not eager to sprint ever again, actually. Your light-headedness tells you that you //are// eager to slow down and drink water, however, so you go to the strange metal constructions that people drink from and drink heavily. For minutes, you drink, and the headache leaves you, as well as the staggering. You lost a lot of fluid earlier, apparently.
Part of you wants nothing more than to lay down forever, but you can't stop yet. You still have to get to Mystic Anthropology. Taught by Professor Nathidesh Strodev. You don't have the capacity for rest until the evening, that's just the law of nature.
[[To class, then.|MA0]]"My past. Tell me about my past." You say, placing your hands into the strange man's palms as you vaguely think he's waiting for. A rush of emotion and energy overtakes you, as you black out.
Blackness. Inky darkness, through which nothing can be seen. The faint rattling of chains, the wheezing of thousands of voices.
''BACK ALREADY,''
''DIGGING DEEP?''
''YOU'LL NOT''
''GET''
''FAR ON YOUR OWN''
''FRESHLING.''
<<set $SawPast to true>>
You shudder, desperate to escape from ''NO-NAME'', but there is no direction here, there is nothing. Nothing save for those tiny motes of light, tiny worlds. The rattling grows closer, unseen limbs unfurl and reach out to grasp at you, then you are blinded by that same <span style="color:#90D5FF">shade of blue.</span> You can hear a vile shriek from No-Name as its limbs retract from the light, a piece of existence.
<span style="color:#90D5FF">"There is...darkness, in your past. Deep, deep darkness."</span> You hear his voice, it eminates from the light, and you feel yourself pulled in two directions violently. Your sense of self only goes the one way, and as such so does your perception.
A mega-city, with buildings which reach the skyline, meant to house hundreds of thousands of civilians. You do not live here, no, you are warring over this place with another rival company's footsoldiers. Just beneath the surface of this mega-city is a vast ocean of changefuel, enough to die and kill over. You've been fighting for months now, and exhaustion is apparent from both sides.
<span style="color:#90D5FF">"War. Your past is clouded with war, and slaughter. Strange, foreign, imaginary concepts are the norm in your past. Guns of light, and glowing metal limbs. All to fuel your overlord's starship empire."</span>
There's the smell of burning, melting glass, you're losing cohesion. The edges of this mega-city slowly get eaten up by the same inky blackness, this is something you weren't meant to relearn.
''F R E S H L''
''IN G.''
<<set $Soldierboy to true>>
You bound around, taking in all that you can, and eventually smash into a mirror. It does not break or bend, but through it you can see the shadowy visage of your new body staring back at you, a depressed broken man. Is this the world he would've wanted to be thrust into, without memories?
You wake, back on the bench. Girart wipes blood from his nose, and chuckles a bit to himself. <span style="color:#90D5FF">"A colorful past indeed. Sharp and jagged, and impossible to be true. But it felt true enough, I hope you're satisfied."</span>
[[Go to class.|MA0]]"I want to know about my present, drug-mage." You say simply, before putting your hands into Girart's own since he's just holding them out expectantly like that. There's a serious headrush that overtakes you, you're rapidly losing consciousness. Soon it's all black.
You stir, sat upon a plastic version of the once-wooden bench, in a version of the campus that someone's drawn on gridpaper, or a really shabby battle map. As you try to stand, your surroundings shift and change at dizzying speeds. <<if $FlirtStat >= 4>>All around you stand those you've met thus far, and the vast majority of these people you recognize because you've hit on them. No patience to talk normally?<<else>>Around you stands everyone that you've met so far, the vast majority are of course from your dorm floor, but four individuals stand out for one reason or another.<</if>>
<span style="color:#FF3333">Syllyvana</span>, <span style="color:#FFFFC5">Quwertee</span>, <span style="color:#B2FBA5">Sleanne</span>, and <span style="color:#90D5FF">Rozzwell</span>. Each one a monarch of a stat, whatever that might mean, they're each colored appropriately amongst the small crowd of other people. When you focus on them, you're able to discern how they currently view you, as if said through a very warbly telephone.
<<if $SyllAff >= 2 and $SyllPhone is true>><span style="color:#FF3333">''You're a proper mystery, and even though meticulously unraveling your oddness would be satisfying, I am deeply worried about how your words make me feel so far. I should have you say those words to me again, slowly, until I understand why, or until you grow bored like the others...''</span><<elseif $SyllTutor is true>><span style="color:#FF3333">''You seem to be a puzzle, with your odd way of speaking, and acting. Perhaps I'll be able to understand the why of it all by tutoring you, or perhaps you just underslept today. But then, why would you be entirely uneducated on the very subject you're here for? You could be trying to gain something else from me...''</span><<elseif $SyllAff is 1 and $CompSyllPhone is true>><span style="color:#FF3333">''You're very strange, in an amusing sort of way. I have no idea if I will, or should, call you, certainly not soon. I'm just too busy for something so...whimsical, There's no telling if you just want sex, another reason against taking that risk, I suppose...but what would I do with the number, and how do you ask someone if they only want you for sex? In such a way that you know they're being honest?''</span><<elseif $SyllAff is 1>><span style="color:#FF3333">''You're very forward, at least there's no doubt with your intentions...a date, how...strange. And interesting. It has been a little bit, but I definitely can't be ready for that sort of thing, can I? I'm always busy, and there's my brother to carry on my back to graduation...''</span><<elseif $SyllAff is 0 and $SyllPhone is true>><span style="color:#FF3333">''I wonder if your passing out was due to trauma, or some strange health condition...both of which are interesting, I guess, but only one is truly mysterious. Hopefully that doesn't happen again, regardless of personal intrigue, you seem like an okay person...''</span><<elseif $SyllAff is 0 and $SyllBro is true>><span style="color:#FF3333">''It was strange of you to hyperfixate on my brother, but, so does everyone else...at least you don't seem like his usual group, you're far too bizarre to fit in with them. Maybe there's hope for both of you after all...''</span><<elseif $SyllAff is 0 and $SyllMenace is true>><span style="color:#FF3333">''''</span><<elseif $SyllAff is 0 and $SPV is true>><span style="color:#FF3333">''Though I hate to admit it, you might be right, maybe I am moving through life too fast...but I can't afford to take it slower than this, perhaps I can artificially intake that slow-go thing by attending a party, or two? That's where people have fun, isn't it? You seem like you'd know that sort of thing...''</span><<else>><span style="color:#FF3333">''You're an intertesting fellow, that's for sure...a bit odd, but you seem nice enough. Maybe we could be academic allies some day, if things work out.''</span><</if>>
<<if $QWRTYPast is true and $QWRTYTalk is true>><span style="color:#FFFFC5">''You're really fucking nosy, you know that? If I could take back telling you so much about me, I would, because now you're gonna be lame about it or something, try to 'sweep me off my feet' with your stupid words...''</span><<elseif $QWRTYDate is true>><span style="color:#FFFFC5">''How did you manage to bait me into a date? I'll figure some way to shake you, but for now I guess I'll figure out the place. I'll show you how a bad-bitch goes on a date...''</span><<elseif $QWRTYTalk is true and $ToldQWRTY is true>><span style="color:#FFFFC5">''What I see going on in you, I'm not gonna let that slow me down...but there's no way I can let you go through this entirely alone. Not like I did.''</span><<elseif $QWRTYTalk is true and $QWRTYAff is 1>><span style="color:#FFFFC5">''You're a weird, strange guy, but I think there's some use in you, even if it's just to talk about the shit I have to go through in a day.''</span><<elseif $ToldQuwertee is true and $QWRTYAff !== 1 and $QWRTYAff !== 2>><span style="color:#FFFFC5">''Everything you're going through, it's a really shitty hand to be dealt, but it'd be stupid to underestimate or pity you because of that. I did fine with my own terrible hand. Maybe you can be trusted to be real with me.''</span><<elseif $BrokenHand is true>><span style="color:#FFFFC5">''You're about as stubborn as me, just with way squishier skin. Maybe you'll try to get in my way, but I'll be ready. When I see you again, I should totally remind you about your busted hand, it'd be funny...''</span><<elseif $RanAway is true>><span style="color:#FFFFC5">''You're really focused on not being helpful, but at least you have the strength to back it up. I respect that kind of quick-thinking, and watching you run like a little girl was the best part.''</span><<elseif $Drowning is true and $ToldQWRTY !== true and $QWRTYAff !== 2>><span style="color:#FFFFC5">''You must be a demon, or psychic, or some shit, and worst of all you just left like that, went right along your day. I bet you won't even remember doing this shit to me when you next see me. That's fine, I'll remember for both of us.''</span><<elseif $Drowning is true and $ToldQWRTY is true and $QWRTYAff !== 2>><span style="color:#FFFFC5">''Your situation is shitty in every way, Christ...you really need to get a grip, and control your horrifying mind powers. If you did that to me in any other part of my life, you'd be in the hospital, and you can't even control it...''</span><<elseif $Drowning is true and $ToldQWRTY is true and $QWRTYAff >= 2>><span style="color:#FFFFC5">''It's been so damn long since someone hugged me like that, it's so fucked up that it took you unwillingly invading my brain to make that happen. Your whole situation's really fucked up, maybe you needed that hug just as much as I did. Fuck, I gotta stop thinking so soft, people lose it all for these kinds of ideas...''</span><<else>><span style="color:#FFFFC5">''You're fucking strange, but, you're the new RA, so...it'd be stupid if I didn't at least try to see what you're up to once in a while.''</span><</if>>
<<if $PactSealed is true>><span style="color:#B2FBA5">''You're just way too easy to play with, but either way this should be a very fun year. If you stick with me, and don't pussy out, we might get somewhere together. Or it'll be a steamy sexy train-wreck. Either way, I win.''</span><<elseif $Lipstick is true and $Pactsealed !== true and $SleanneAff is 2>><span style="color:#B2FBA5">''Gosh, I could just eat you up, keeping your head cool despite all that teasing...turning me DOWN, too! This year might actually be fun after all.''</span><<elseif $Lipstick is true and $Pactsealed !== true and $SleanneAff is 1>><span style="color:#B2FBA5">''You strike me as someone with self-control, or reservations. Doesn't matter which, I'll find something to do with you somewhere, you're clearly into the sexy energy I bring.''</span><<elseif $Locket is true>><span style="color:#B2FBA5">''You're a little odd, I can't put my finger on it. Some vague...vibe, on how you carried yourself after looking at my locket. I should keep some tabs on you, Mister RA...''</span><<else>><span style="color:#B2FBA5">''The new, up-and-coming RA, huh? You don't seem too terribly eager to have fun with little old me, but you'll come around. Everyone does eventually, and I could really benefit from a pair of fresh eyes.''</span><</if>>
<<if $PactSealed is true>><span style="color:#90D5FF">''You're not making this year any easier on either of us, man, but I'll be here when you're ready to break that pact with Sleanne. If I can guide you past this, maybe I can keep motivated through this last year...''</span><<elseif $Lipstick is true and $PactSealed !== true>><span style="color:#90D5FF">''I see a lot of my past self in you right now, and that's not a good thing...it isn't my place to step in, but, man...''</span><<elseif $PactSealed !== true and $Lipstick !== true and $RozzAff is 1>><span style="color:#90D5FF">''You seem like a decent guy so far, but, there's always new ways to let someone down, so...I'll try to keep my expectations low for now...good enough head on you so far, and you're willing to keep an open mind...this might just work, new guy.''</span><<else>><span style="color:#90D5FF">''I honestly have no strong feelings about you so far, but you stuck around after meeting everyone, so you should be a good trainee...but the year's still young...''</span><</if>>
Beyond those four, there stand the many individuals that live on your floor, the few other students of note you've met so far, and of course Professor Sagax. <<if $SagaxInt is true>>His visage is peering at you, it seems something you've done has gained his faint interest. <</if>><<if $NedalAff >= 2 and $NedalPhone is true>>Nedallia's silhouette peers at you with a smile on her face, her hand making the universal motion for 'call me'. <<elseif $NedalAff >= 2 and $NedalPhone !== true>>Nedallia's silhouette peers at you with a smile on her face, winking at you, but silently cackling to herself all the same. <<else>>Nedallia's silhouette faces you in particular. <</if>>Girart's silhouette is naturally freakishly close to your body, and it seems as if there are intricate glowing lines of blue running all along his form. As far as the current opinion your floor's residents hold on you, it's mixed but largely neutral, you haven't really done anything yet. Hilx peers at you with a distant sort of interest, but unlike the four monarchs, you cannot hear his thoughts on you.
There are cracks and fissures around, as well as four pillars made of four materials, each one is stood upon by the garbled silhouette of...some person or another, it's impossible to tell. The pillars are made of the following materials, from left-most to right-most: <span style="color:#90D5FF">Ice</span>, <span style="color:#B2FBA5">Steel</span>, <span style="color:#FF3333">Magma</span>, and <span style="color:#FFFFC5">Glass</span>. When you try to focus on those who stand atop these pillars, your head begins to ache, garbled repeating noise that sounds like rattling chain filling your senses. These ones are dangerous, and loom large even in your present.
The ache in your head quickly spreads to the rest of your body, these individuals are similar to ''you'' in some way or another, and that fact should probably terrify you. The one standing atop the pillar of magma seems to look down at you with eyes aglow, runes conjuring in this place, and a violent blast of strange psychic energy battering you.
<<set $SawPresent to true>>
You wake, on the bench, as Girart wipes some blood from his nose. He just gently shoos you away when you try to ask him if he saw what you saw, seeming somewhat concerned by the amount of blood from whatever went down on his end.
[[Head on down to class with that ill omen.|MA0]]<<set $SawFuture to true>>"What about my future?" You ask, to which Girart nods gently. <span style="color:#90D5FF">"I get that one a lot, so- just understand that the future's a fickle beast...and the more spontaneous or eccentric you are, the more variation there could be."</span> He continues to hold his palms up to you, until you agree and take his hands into your own. Everything goes black after that.
You are within a massive web of deep gray and dark blue, in a shape physically impossible for any natural web to take. There are strange little gray cubes connected together by the web, it seems that you yourself are presently connected to one. It reads ''CompFuture0''. Partially stuck in the web also seems to be Rozzwell, your RA, who doesn't struggle like you do, he simply smiles gently, and sobs. His tears are the colors of the cosmos, vibrant oranges and vast blues.
When you focus on any of the other cubes, you can peer into their contents somewhat. In one, a party by some old train tracks, another holds a date with a silver statue, in yet another you see yourself hugging Rozzwell by a campfire. Strange branches of possibilities, that you'd spend quite some time looking into if not for the growing buzzing in your brain. It sounds akin to radio static as performed by an angry cicada, and it's most intensive when you look too far into the future.
Once someone has noticed the source of their pain, they can do several things, the average reaction would likely be to seek treatment, but you are not average. You decide to double down, to try to discern the exact reason for this buzzing, and it finds you first. A flickering, tall, violet silhouette comes skating over along the web with no trouble at all. It's shaped like a woman, likely a student, and she's wearing the silhouette of a barely decent skirt. Her entire form shifts and gives off the feeling of cold, as if made of ice, and she extends her hand to Rozzwell in the web.
His sobbing ceases as he takes her hand, and he too turns to ice, before the womanly silhouette holds her head and doubles over in pain. She braces herself on the web, and begins to melt rapidly, shaking, sobbing, screaming. She's made of water, now, panting, shuddering uncomfortably, before regaining her perceived composure. Cool as ice once more. Ice-Rozzwell seems happy.
This is all really strange and esoteric, and definitely not literal, but you do still begin to scarouse when that water-woman turns to face you, and begins to crawl over on all fours, unheard whispers clawing at you. The webs fall away from you, and you fall into the inky abyss abound, thousands of unfathomable eyes peering and reaching out for you.
You wake, hyperventilating a fair bit, but Girart gently helps you calm back down, by making you focus on the present, and the individual flowers growing nearby. When you bring up the web, and the ice, he seems confused, but reassures you that visions take many forms based on the recipient. You have no idea if you need to put a heater in your room, or just keep the occasional eye on Rozzwell, but you are properly confused as you trod over to class.
[[Can't forget about class, after all.|MA0]]Gerard, business woman, and Rosemary go back to giving their various tasks their full attention while you and Syllyvana chew. She produces what looks to be a salt shaker from the table, and begins to season her fruit appropriately. <<if $Swords >= 3>><span style="color:#FFFFC5">//Sugar. It smells like sugar, not salt.// </span><</if>>There's just pure awkward silence as she spears a strawberry and chews it, her eyes occasionally peering at you. You consume sandwich, in all its lettuce-having glory, and it tastes pretty good. You don't know what a sandwich is //meant// to taste like, but this is now the prime example, with its turkey and swiss. Eventually the silence is broken by Syllyvana of all people.
<<set $RASyll to true>>
"Have you found your way around campus fine thus far?" She asks you, and you have to think a bit. Yea, you think so. You nod at her. "Yeah, I'm an RA, also, apparently." Her eyes seem to focus in on you a bit, behind those cute nerd glasses of hers. "Hm. I see, that's quite the responsibility for your first year." You shrug. "I guess, but it's good for tuition, or something...and it mostly just seems like talking to people so far."
Rosemary and Gerard nod in agreement as Syllyvana assures you, "Yes, that's the hard part, isn't it? Here's this floor of people you know nothing about, on the year that you need to find your footing the most, now go build rapport and don't burn the place down." The pretty elf, in that same yellow dress from earlier, bites into another hunk of fruit. "Though I suppose it wouldn't be nearly so hard for you, you seem quite adept at hurling yourself into new social situations."
The two of you continue to chew for a little while, before eventually you decide to ask her about her fratrority as some vague method of getting to know her better. "Ah, well, Zeta Zeta Zeta, or 3Z as some prefer to call it," She pauses to sip from a glass of water, as the two other nerds present roll their eyes at the name '3Z'. "is a house composed of athletes, business-types, and scholars. All very hard working individuals, wouldn't you agree?"
You don't have time to answer her rhetorical question. "Other fratrorities hold stalwart to the idea of a singular president, and House KEK has a Queen, but we elect three delegates, a democracy carefully kept in check as to not become a popularity contest." You nod slowly, you understood all of those words on their own. "One individual from each major 'faction' in Z-Z-Z, to represent their group and compromise with the other two."
"Was there anything more specific you wanted to know?" She asks you after a pause, and you shrug again. "Are you in charge?" You ask, and she briefly smiles before returning to her calculating self. "In a word: no. No one person is, but I'm not one of our three delegates, either. The politics of it all interests me very, very little, but I still must attend several meetings because my input is valued."
She pauses for but a moment after saying that, pulling out her phone, and nodding. "Just as I figured. I've got to go, thank you for lunch." <<if $SyllAff >= 2>>She squeezes your hand somewhat experimentally, with a focused look to her pretty face. She does not acknowledge it at all as you peer down at her hand in yours. <</if>>Syllyvana gets up, pushes her chair in, then leaves you here.
The businesswoman chuckles to herself once Syllyvana's left, "Oh, goodness, she's far too modest...don't let her fool herself, or you, she //absolutely// holds a lot of sway. There's no person on this campus with more magical prowess and potential than Syllyvana, she's essentially a fourth delegate." Gerard and Rosemary don't try to debate her statement, simply continuing their prior tasks. No-one escorts you out, or asks you to leave, but you really don't feel like you fit in here.
Back outside, you head over to Mystic Anthropology, in another large intimidating hall not too dissimilar from Gobgaks hall. As you walk over, you can make out through various windows that Mystic Anthropology will be taught in a more typical classroom setting. Lucky you, no more projectors.
[[Go to class.|MA0]]You lead the presently unnamed tall girl into your room, turning the lights back on since you apparently remembered to turn them off. She whistles gently, looking around. She seems a little bit hyper for one reason or another, it might be arousal and excitement mixing, or maybe she just ''really'' likes Rozzwell's blackout curtains for some reason.
<<set $ShapeFuck to true>>
"This goes one of two ways," She says, shuddering gently as her hands tap her sides rapidly. "...one of us is going to be on top of the other, it might be you, it might be me...whoever does, they damn well better be rough." She raises her arms above her head, before moving her hips in a playful circular motion, to which her jacket begins to do the same, slowly working its way up and off of her body. It limply falls to the ground by her feet.
She isn't wearing a bra, or a shirt, so you now have the glorious sight of her large fair-skinned breasts to behold. She watches your gaze with a smile, slowly running her fingers over her exposed titties, squeezing them together, then ineffectually covering them with her hands. "You like?" She asks, and you nod rapidly. You do indeed like. She motions vaguely at you. "Take your shirt off, too..."
<<set $ShapeAff to 1>>
Your heart beats a little faster as she watches you de-shirt, her gaze is unbreakable, it almost reminds of a predator in the wild. You'd be the rabbit or leaf being stared at by a dire giraffe in this context. Once you've properly removed your shirt, she starts closing the gap, towering over you, but the blush and slight smile on her face makes it far less intimidating.
"So," She starts, fingers tapping impatiently on her hips, "...to spell it out for you...I'm just trying to figure out if you'll be ''dominating'' me, or if you get to be my personal toy for a while..." You're starting to realize she doesn't blink. That doesn't lessen your erection, for some reason.
[[Let me dom this tall girl immediately.|ShapeDom0]]
[[Let the tall girl take control.|ShapeSub0]]You look at her hand on your shoulder, at the somewhat perverse smile on her face, into her beautiful blue eyes, before shaking your head. "What is this actually about? I'm not an idiot." You say, which just makes her flutter her eyes at you more. "Oh, you want me to //talk,// big man?" She asks, moving her hand to your hair, running her fingers through it lovingly. She leans close to your ear, and whispers.
"//You'd better make me talk, if that's what you're after...I can think of a few good ways...I don't know how you don't get more chicks hitting on you, when you're lugging that massive monster-cock around.//" Her hand runs lower, lower, lower, fingertips running slow circles around your pants. She probably isn't giving you more of an answer than that.
[[To the bedroom!|ShapeFun0]]
[[Pass on what is almost certainly sex, and instead head to Mystic Anthropology.|MA0]]You hold your hands up over your head, prepared to be dominated by the tall girl before you. Her heart seems to skip a beat when she sees your battlefield surrender, a smile coming over her. Taking a moment to collect herself, she shudders, then points at your bed. "Lay down, ''now.''" There's a freaky fierceness to her command, but you already intended to do as she asked.
She takes the opportunity to strip down out of her deep black pants, watching you like a hawk as you lay down. Your bed's pretty comfy, actually. Soon her thick fair-skinned thighs are revealed to you, and looking along her lower-half you note the thong barely covering her clearly dripping pussy. She must ''really'' like the idea of taking control of someone else.
"You're going to call me ''Sharp'' while I'm //milking you.// If you decide to //pussy out,// the safe word's 'erotica'. Got it, fuck-toy?" She asks, and when you nod, she's quick to descend onto your bed. "...and I'm calling you Anne during this." Sharp suddenly tacks on, while pinning you down by the shoulders. Your bed squeaks in protest, but it falls upon deaf ears.
Taking a moment to orient herself, Sharp begins to run her tongue ever-so-slowly along your neck, your chest, your stomach, bending her neck and head far further than she probably should be able to while her arms are raised up and holding you down. "You taste like //candy,// Anne, did you do that just so I'd taste it?" You have no idea how to respond to that, but Sharp doesn't seem to care.
Taking a break from ineffectually tongue-bathing your torso, she lifts off of you, and snaps. "Take those worthless jeans off already, we're missing out big-time on the main event." Sharp waits with her arms crossed, thighs slowly rubbing together impatiently. You don't know any spells, but the speed with which you undress seems to bring a magical amount of perverse glee to her face.
Your distended monster-cock naturally springs free while you're pulling out of your underwear, noisily slapping against your stomach. You swear to God that you can see actual hearts in Sharp's eyes for a split second, before it stops, and she regains her composure. She pushes you back to your prone position with minimal effort, before straddling your crotch.
She holds like that for a time, pressing your cock between her barely-covered crotch and your own body, letting the absolutely molten heat of her pussy really sink in. "Do you like that, Anne? It'd be so easy to just move this stupid fucking thong aside, and we'd just go right to pound-town..." You nod, then verbally agree when that clearly isn't enough for her, "Yes, Sharp, it'd feel amazing, too..."
She leans down, laying down on you while keeping her crotch firmly against your own. If this weren't a rather tall lover, you'd currently be making out with her, but instead you're helplessly buried in her generous breasts. Sharp goes out of her way to grip the back of your head with one hand, to really mash you between them.
Her other hand goes lower, squeezing as much of your dick as it can hold tightly. Her dripping wetness has soaked through her thong somewhat, partially soaking your pulsing cock too, which makes it way harder to hold so tight. She takes that in stride, content to begin roughly jerking off your cock. Despite not being able to fully encircle it a moment ago, her hand seems to have no trouble doing so now, and soon you're groaning into her titties.
She focuses an immense amount on the tip of your cock, especially what parts of it make you groan the loudest muffled noises, content to just rapidly jack off the first two inches of your behemoth. "If you cum from //this,// I'll just use your face until the day's over...if you get close, you tap on my arm as fast as you can." You nod into her chest, and she coos and calls you a 'good boy'.
[[Hold out for a hero in these trying times.|ShapeSub1]]You adjust your stance, puff out your chest, and put your hands overtop her tip-tapping ones, just on her hips. She shudders and laughs a few perverse chuckles, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "//Hand-holding isn't what I'm after, if you want to take control, then ''do it''.//" The tall girl bites on your ear, before pulling back with that same perverted smile.
With a tightening of your grip on her hips, you overcorrect by pushing her forward onto your bed. There's a thud, and your bed squeaks a tiny amount under the sudden assault, but it's in for far worse soon enough. "Is that all you've got, little man?" She asks, wiggling out of her black pants. This time you are impressed to find that despite her lack of bra, she's wearing a deep black thong that cuts into her beautiful fat ass fiercely.
Looking over her shoulder at you, she groans in slight frustration. "If the next words out of your mouth are dumb romance, I'll get up and leave." You decide against testing that, and instead fiercely smack her ass. It jiggles magnificently in response, how the hell does she hide this beneath those pants, there was no sign of something this bubbly before she de-pants'd.
She pants somewhat in response to the fierce smack, before shivering, and moaning, "...More." You're fast to oblige, even as you have to crawl onto the bed to finally tower overtop the tall girl for once. ''SMACK.'' You watch your hand leave its mark behind, even just temporarily. "Are you just gonna stare, or-" ''SMACK.'' Her voice catches in her throat, and she bites her lip, happy to be quiet for now.
Back facing you, the tall girl lay momentarily submissively, slowly wiggling her hips to encourage you to smack her again. You continue to smack and abuse her butt, finally growing bored of just smacking. With both hands, you begin to squeeze and manhandle her big round buttcheeks, at first for the sheer joy it inspires in you, then to draw moans and shivers from the bad-mouthing babe.
There's a sheer, unimaginable heat radiating from her crotch, that you can't possibly miss with your shameless manhandling of her bubbly ass. "Notice something you //like,// sir?" She asks, bouncing her hips up and down a few times as you stare helplessly. The way she can bounce her ass around is almost hypnotic. She sure knows how to move her body...
"Tell me what you want, I'll do //anything,// sir...if you'll treat me bad enough, and promise to call me Anne." That would be a stupid offer to turn down, so you won't, but you are curious about that whole Anne thing. "Why Anne?" You ask, giving her ass another smack to draw the answer from her pretty lips.
"//Ooooh...//It's short for Sleanne...that's what I call her, anyway..." That seems like its own thing to unpack, and you aren't here to be a therapist. You make use of the unzip function your pants have, and quickly free your throbbing cock. 'Anne' seems to bite her lip in anticipation from hearing the unzip alone, but when she peeks over her shoulder, she properly raises her ass high for you.
"Notice something ''you'' like...Anne?" You ask, trying to get into the Anne thing. She nods slowly, while you move her thong out of the way. That immense heat arrives in waves from her now exposed pussy, as if it were properly molten. An experimental touch with your fingers draws a tiny moan from her, and disproves the lava theory. She's just...abnormally hot down there right now, maybe all the time.
"You're wet as...a whore, Anne." You say, slowly finding your footing with talking dirty. "If you think that now, wait until you're inside..." Anne whispers back at you like a siren's call, wiggling her ass back and forward needily. You remind her who's in charge right now with a noisy ''SMACK'', taking joy in the jiggle presented to you. "Before we start," She begins, keeping her head low, "...the safe-word's love."
[[Engage coitus.|ShapeDom1]]If you were looking at anything but the single most wet pussy in existence right now, you'd probably try to find lube, or make her suck on you first, but with her bouncing ass, and her extremely fuckable pussy being ''right there'', you just slam your hips forward. You're met with shockingly little resistance, largely due to how wet she is, and it isn't romanticizing when you inform her, "This pussy feels like it was fucking made for me, Anne."
<<set $SexValue to $SexValue + 1>>
As you rapidly bottom out in her, your hips smack against her ass with a ''clap''. Anne keeps her head low, moaning, and cooing, you swear you can feel her pussy actively trying to milk you right now. She didn't seem to resonate with your previous statement, so you've got to talk a little rougher. "All you're good for is getting fucked by this cock, did you know that?" You ask, trying to get used to the words still. She seems to actively tighten up around you when you say that, which feels fucking amazing.
"Good fucking girl, Anne, but we haven't started yet." You reply, pulling back, and slamming back into her. If she wants rough, you'll be rough, pistoning in and out of her perfect pussy with a fury, as quickly as you can. That fills the room with far more erotic ''CLAP-CLAP-CLAP-CLAP'' noises, as well as the drawn-out moans from Anne. You can see her toes curling, which makes you feel like a God damn king.
"Don't be...Shy, Anne," You say, having to keep up with your own rapid fucking. It's very hard to talk and brutally fuck, as it would turn out. "I want you to...fucking, share your mind." You say, rapidly and methodically sticking to your rhythm of pounding her brains out. "Your dick feels sooooo ''GOOD!!!''" She yells, a bit too loud for your taste, so you smack her ass. That just turns her on more, it seems.
"Pleeeaaaaase, choke me, sir, I want my fucking breathing to be controlled by you." Holy shit. You oblige her, taking her throat into your hands, and squeezing, at first to get the idea down, then to choke her. You feel her pussy squirt all over your legs as you choke her, and you can see her looking back at you with eyes rolling and fluttering needily. "Your fucking...pussy...belongs to ''me.''" You say, easing your grip so she can breathe again. You don't feel her breathe in, or out actually, but she seems to regain her senses when you do so.
"Yes, sir, it does, it does, it so fucking does!" She shouts again, helpless under your attention. While you have her on her stomach, you have a brilliant idea, and take her arms out from her side, causing her torso to fall onto the bed beneath the two of you. Holding an arm in either hand, you pull the tall-sub's arms backwards toward you, which pulls more moans from her mouth while you pound into her. Her arms are the handles that you're using to slam deeper and deeper into her now, and she knows it.
You might not fully understand how her pussy works, but it's clearly got some strange properties going on, and since she's already basically babbling incoherent pleasured noises at you, you decide to order her more strangely. "Since your pussy's ''mine'' now, you'd better put in extra effort to make me cum in it, you worthless fucktoy." Anne seems to climax again when you order that in particular, and in the spasms that follow, her vagina feels like it's fucking vibrating around you.
It's the finest kind of molten, tight heat, massaging and squeezing at you while you mercilessly pummel it. Her eyes are crossed, now, as you keep using her as a cocksleeve. The vibrations only add to it, even if they make no sense, you can feel those reverberations even in your balls, which are tightening rapidly now that she's clearly actively trying to milk you dry.
"Get ready, Anne, you stupid cum-dump!" You shout, and she starts desperately slamming her hips back against your own with each thrust now, knowing her prize is near. Sure enough, you bottom out entirely one last time, and begin to cum buckets into her eager pussy. She coos and moans through your entire orgasm, while you bathe in the glory of this conquest. Once you've truly filled her, you withdraw, amazed to find nothing dripping out of her.
There's also no cum-bulge to her stomach, so you assume it's some freaky spell at play. You smack her on the ass a few more times as you catch your breath, and she chuckles. "Good work, champ." She says, no longer sounding nearly so submissive to your will. "That felt fucking great, we should do it again some time." Anne sits up in record time, not sweaty at all compared to you.
She dresses just as quickly, making a show of it for you, shaking her ass while pulling into her jeans, which indeed hide her bubbly butt frighteningly well. Her jacket's even easier, and she bounces her tits a few times while putting it on for you. With a quick stretch, she says,<<if $PactSealed is true>> "I hope you enjoyed a taste of the ''fun,'' that Sleanne's gonna show you this year...not that I was meant to fuck you, but, y'know, it happens. What'll she care, right?"<<else>> "Later."<</if>> Then 'Anne' leaves in an instant.
You're alone, and the effort of what you just did is quickly catching up to you. Part of you wants to rest, part of you wants to follow her and have sweaty rough sex all day, but in your heart of hearts you know it's time for class. Compromising, you put on your clothes slowly so you can stop sweating so heavily. Then you check your phone for the class' room number, and your map for where that room even is.
You leave, and swiftly reach the Hall that Mystic Anthropology is taught in. It seems to be in a more mundane classroom compared to the auditorium you've experienced before this. There's nothing left to do but enter.
[[Into learn.|MA0]]Even with Sharp's relentless jerking of your cock, you manage to hold out, partly because you need more, and partly because you know your mind would not physically let you skip class later. After enough teasing and cruel words, she adjusts, and moves her thong out of the way. Sharp's molten pussy presses hard against your enormous cockhead, but stops just short of penetration. Instead she begins to grind against your tip, "Do you want to fuck my pussy?" She asks, and you nod rapidly.
<<set $SexValue to $SexValue + 1>>
"Good boy. Honesty should be rewarded more in this life, you know? Let's do another question or two first, though..." She raises up, returning to simply straddling you, looming tall over you, but no longer crushing you in her breasts. Your eyes fixate immediately on her dripping wet pussy, and how your tip is slightly parting it. She grabs your face with one hand, forcing you to look into her eyes instead.
"Am I sexier than Sleanne?" She asks, which takes you aback somewhat, but she obviously wouldn't be asking this question if she wanted you to say no. You nod again, not putting much thought into your answer. That seems to make Sharp shudder with delight. "Very, //very// good boy..." She grips and moves your cock, pressing it against her stomach and holding it there. Sharp allows you to look away from her face now, and you take in the sight of your enormous cock pressed against her groin, against her stomach.
"Do you see how deep you'll be in me? Does it excite you to know that you'll be utterly helpless against my pussy?" You nod rapidly again, breathing heavily, you ''really'' want to put all of yourself into her. Sharp thinks a little bit, squeezing your tip harshly, before continuing. "No moving your hips unless I say so, Anne."
That's a concession you'll make, so you nod once more. With a satisfied smile, she begins to lower her hips, slowly, strongly. Her concerningly hot pussy finally embraces the tip of your cock as she impales herself. She keeps going, lowering closer and closer to your base, with no effort at all. It feels like molten heaven around your shaft, and with a simple clench, her insides feel like they're shaped specifically for you. You're almost certainly making a really, really stupid face right now, given the smile decorating her face afterwards.
"Mmmm...easy as that." She says, finally sheathing the entirety of your huge cock in her. By all means she should be shouting and moaning and screaming right now, and you do see the stomach bulge from what she's accomplished, but she's acting like it was no trouble at all. Sharp seems to take immense pleasure in your brief confused expression, before pinning your shoulders. "Did the big toy think he'd make me moan? Oh, you poor thing...it's you that'll be saying my name today."
With her game face on, Sharp begins to fuck herself on you ''rapidly,'' bouncing up and down with such speed and ferocity that moisture goes flying everywhere. Even though it's happening constantly at this speed, every time she takes the entirety of you into her, your tip is tightly squeezed by her pussy, as if on command. You don't really understand it, and you couldn't hope to ask right now, too overwhelmed to try.
One of her hands moves down, down, down, to grope your engorged testicles, and much like her lovemaking, there's nothing gentle about it. "You're only good for a dildo, you know that? Who am I kidding, of course you knew that, you adore that fact..." She squeezes your nuts for a moment, while holding your entire length in her for a prolonged period. Her vagina feels like it's actively trying to milk your cock, and you might just oblige. The beating of your heart only increases in pitch when she grabs your throat with her remaining hand, and starts to squeeze experimentally.
Obviously she notices your twitching, especially while she's groping your nuts eagerly. "Ohhh, is someone reaching his limit? Are you gonna cum?" She asks, and you struggle to nod, but she seems to get the message. Slowly pulling her pussy entirely off of you, she holds your nuts tight. "Since you were such a good little toy, I'll let you finish inside, but first, say my name..." You oblige quickly, cock twitching eagerly. It's astonishing how soaked your penis is.
"Again." She says, and you repeat yourself, louder. "One more time, slowwwwwly..." She says, moving her hips in circles just above your cock. Her grip on your neck tightens and loosens slowly, coaxing you to speak when she says to. You slowly sound out Sharp, but around the 'a' in her name she slams her hips down, taking you in once more. Even while holding still on you, it feels like her pussy is rapidly and roughly slamming up and down along your length. You still manage to say her name, since you know she'll call you a good boy if you do, and positive affirmation is nice.
"Gooooood boy." She says, "If you come see me sometime, maybe I'll feed your addiction to this pussy...but for now..." Sharp begins to choke you properly, all while her pussy seems to jack you off. "...cum. ''Now.''" Your eyes flutter, and you groan noisily, while violently ejaculating into her incredible pussy. She holds you there like that, still choking you, but she slowly eases up as you continue to pump your load into her.
You're sweating uncontrollably, but she doesn't look like she broke a sweat at all. "That was fun. We should do it again sometime." Sharp says, her tone returning to her more normal seeming one, even as her pussy milks and drains your nuts into her. You can't really articulate a response right now, even after she removes her hand from your neck, you're too busy being milked right now.
When she does finally get up, you're amazed to find that nothing drips out of her, nor does her stomach look as bulged out as it should if she was just holding all of your enormous load in her. Your cock twitches somewhat when she meets your gaze. <<if $PactSealed is true>>"Sleanne sends her regards, by the way. I probably wasn't meant to fuck you, but, you're just so fuckable."<<else>>"See you later, RA."<</if>> She offers, getting dressed in no time at all. Soon you're alone again, and after catching your breath, and gathering your senses, you dress as well.
Something about that girl, physically speaking, was strange, but she was amazing in bed all the same. You'd dwell on it, or contemplate following her for a rather unique way to spend the rest of the day, but you need to get to class. You check your map, your phone, and head to the hall in question.
The hall with Mystic Anthropology is distinct from Gobgaks hall, with large windows showing you the classrooms within. They look like more traditional classrooms, no big auditoriums for Sagax to torment a class in. Looking at a wall-bound clock, you let yourself into Mystic Anthropology.
[[Into the unknown.|MA0]]<<set $FlirtStat to $FlirtStat + 1>>You look her up and down, then down, since her body's mostly bottom-heavy, before speaking, "If you'll be there, I'd be stupid not to attend." You say, which seems to change the clown-girl's disposition toward you entirely, now she's squinting at you and looking you up and down. She wildly gesticulates with her fingers, like she's getting ready to draw a gun in a western movie, before pointing her finger at you.
<<set $MarblesAff to 1>>
"What do you and my favorite unicycle have in common?" She asks, and when you have no idea, she smiles wide, "I might just ride both of you at the party!" She proceeds to honk her nose several times, and as she winks at you suggestively, an audible 'ding' is produced. Reaching into her pocket, she holds out a small little ball, and throws it ''hard'' against the floor. "Smoke-bomb!" She exclaims, as a fog of off-blue smoke conjures from the ball's destruction.
You can obviously and clearly hear her walking into her room, given that her shoes squeak noisily with each rapid step. She peeks out from her almost-closed door at you, and you shoot her with some finger guns. Life is strange as a unicycle-adjacent person, but a bubble-butt clown girl potentially sitting on you makes it worthwhile all the same.
She totally out-flirted you this time, even if it was in an extremely deranged way. It can't be helped, she was speaking in strange clown-riddles, after all. You'll get back at her later, probably. Now you have to go to class, however, and as such you wave goodbye at her door.
Out of the dorm, not quite near Gobgaks Hall, stands another tall building that your map says your next class is in. Mystic Anthropology, as taught by Professor Nathidesh Strodev. It seems to be in a very ordinary looking classroom, based on what the windows tell you.
[[Into class.|MA0]]Knock. Knock. No response, the disharmony is simply too loud. ''KNOCK. KNOCK.'' That puts a pause to it.
<<set $MetEdith to true>>
You hear the careless clattering of instrument dropping to the ground, the throwing of paper, and the eventual unlocking of the door. As it opens, you first notice that this is a bedroom. Then you see the girl opening it.
She's drop-dead gorgeous, with skin tinged slightly blue, she strikes you as a magic-touched human. Her face is adorned with make-up that rivals even Sleanne's own for amount and impact. Looking past her for a moment, you can see a wide variety of instruments, some more broken than others, and those which require mouth-input are messily marked with her lipstick.
Her black hair's somewhat messy, like she's been throwing it in every direction, and her choice of attire looks to be an expensive sparkly red dress. You don't get to stare much longer at her dress' boob-window, she finally snaps her fingers a few times to get your attention. "What could you possibly want?" She asks, which ''is'' a valid question.
[[Convince her to stop playing.|EdithCoin0]]
[[Try to improve her playing.|EdithWands0]]
[[I want you.|EdithFlirt0]]
[[Nevermind.|EdithLeave0]]You circumvent the first obstacle of your quest to eat lunch with Nedallia, the vaguely interesting doorway. Heading further up the stairs, you manage to take in the sight of the many doors on the third floor. Most of them have plain wooden doors, beautiful but not especially noteworthy, save for the one at the very end of the hall. That one is painted every color of the rainbow, in an enigmatic pattern that probably means nothing at all.
You approach, and knock. Only the first knock connects before the door opens, revealing a smiling halfling. "$name! You made it!" She exclaims, clearly happy to see you. You nod, and she pulls you into a hug. Since you're far taller than she is, she's mostly just grinding her face against your crotch while hugging your hips. Since she's acting like this is totally normal, you decide not to disentangle. "Oh, you're fine with cheap pizza, right?" She asks, eyes looking into your own with a tiny smile on her face.
You agree in an instant. "Pizza sounds great!" You exclaim, knowing this fact to be true despite not knowing for sure what pizza is yet. She unhugs you and claps, with a smile that could melt the icecaps.
[[Wait for pizza to arrive.|NedalLunch1]]Your eyes linger on the many, many discarded instruments decorating the floor of this room. Instruments are the cause of the awful noise, they will be the solution as well. Just a matter of articulation now. <<if $Coin >= 3>>"You seem to be practicing really hard, but wouldn't you prefer your housemates to hear only the best you have to offer?" She starts to defend her honor with a frustrated gaze, but exhales sharply instead. "...you're probably right, I sound just terrible so far, I don't want all of these talkers to talk talk talk about my slow climb to the top of music." That was easy. She closes the door in front of you, and for a while the house returns to quiet.
You head up the stairs, satisfied, and knock politely on the only door on the third floor that's painted every color of the rainbow. Nedallia opens it up, positively beaming to see you. "$name! You made it!" She hugs you tightly, but given the height difference, all that really accomplishes is the squishing of her head to your pants' crotch. You don't complain. "...You're fine with eating cheap pizza, yeah?" She asks, big beautiful eyes staring up into your own.
You nod, and she disentangles with a smile. You don't even really know what pizza is, but you know you'll eat it in any form.
[[Await pizza.|NedalLunch1]]<<elseif $Wands >= 3>>"You're clearly putting in all the effort required, but it just isn't clicking, am I right?" You ask, more of a guess than anything, but you say it with utter sincerity. It feels...right. She looks positively pissed, but it quickly caves to shame. She nods slowly. "That makes sense...have you considered..." You glance around the room for the answer to her particular plight. What would you do if you needed to practice with a better outlook?
"...playing in other environments? This might be...that you're not really ''feeling'' the inspiration. Even somewhere like the lawn could change how you're feeling while playing, and I think...feeling matters a lot for this sort of thing." You say gently, and she doesn't meet your gaze, grimacing a bit when you suggest the lawn. But she doesn't find any particular fault in what you're suggesting, instead she makes her way past you, clutching a guitar.
That ended up closer to actual advice than you thought it'd be at first, but at least both of you could benefit from that. You head up the stairs, easily finding the only door on the third floor painted to look like a hidden eye poster. You need only knock once for it to open, revealing the gleeful halfling within. "$name! You made it!"
You nod, and she shocks you by hugging you tightly. She nuzzles her head against you, but since she's so short, it's effectively just her rubbing her head against your crotch. Not necessarily a negative. She pauses her hug to look up into your eyes, "You'd be okay with cheap pizza, right?" Entirely automatically, you nod.
Pizza is a mystery to you, but the word sounds like something you'd eat even if it were cheap. She disentangles and cheers a little.
[[Wait for the arrival of pizza.|NedalLunch1]]<<else>>"You...don't sound very good, and maybe it's the instruments?" You offer, not entirely sure what you're even trying to say. She's eager to agree, though, staring daggers at the discarded instruments. They're obviously high-quality, but what do they know? A good artist blames her tools.
<<set $Edith to true>>
"I know, right?" She says, huffing. "I swear, not a single reputable person in the whole of Millerfield to sell me an instrument!" She flails her arms in a mixture of exaperation and relief at someone telling her it's the fault of her instruments. "Some days I ask why I even bother with it at all...I'm Edith, by the way." She offers, and you give a double-thumbs up. "$name." The pretty woman nods in understanding, before exiting her room, and closing it up behind her.
She heads past you, down the stairs, and from what you can hear, out the front door. Probably to take a walk, since she lives here. You shrug, and go upwards rather than her downwards. Through an extremely painted door at the end of the third floor hallway lay Nedallia's room.
When you knock, she greets you in an instant, smiling ear to ear. "$name! You made it!" She says with excitement, pulling your hips into a hug, given her height. You awkwardly pat her back, while she nuzzles her face against your crotch in what would be a gesture of friendship if you were the same height. Eventually she pauses, looks up into your eyes, and asks, "...you're okay with cheap pizza, right?"
Pizza is some mysterious food-item to you, but you know you'll eat it regardless of price, so you nod. She applauds a bit, and disentangles.
[[Await the pizza.|NedalLunch1]]<</if>>If she plays like this all the time, then clearly she needs a helping hand of some kind. You have never played an instrument in your life, but it probably can't be that hard. "I heard your music, and wanted to help you improve." She squints at you, rage boiling over slowly, but she doesn't immediately close the door in your face. You probably only have one shot at this with how defensive she's showing to be.
<<if $Wands >= 3>>You don't know how to play an instrument, but you do know that it's clearly something that requires passion on top of focus and practice. She's obviously practiced a lot, and focused plenty, so that just leaves the idea of passion. "Do you even //like// playing?" You ask, which seems to cut deep. She opens her mouth, and starts to gesture, but comes up short for an answer.
"Well, if you don't, you either need to find enjoyment in it, or call it quits." You offer, and she doesn't hesitate to make her choice. "I'm not quitting. I refuse, so if you're here to //help,// tell me how to fix it." She refuses to connect her lack of passion with herself, apparently. You blink a few times, thinking. You let yourself in politely, then pick up some of her discarded sheet music.
"Is there anything else that you're passionate about?" You ask, and she thinks momentarily before nodding. "Yes, I'm passionate about the culinary arts, but everything there is so...easy to follow, this is all just gibberish." Part of you wants to ask why she's even trying to learn it, but that's not the way of the artist. You nod, and allow your ''IMAGINATION'' to begin humming to life.
<span style="color:#FF3333">You're surrounded by dozens of potential utensils, in a repressed chef's depressed kitchen.</span> "Grab your violin." You say, and she grimaces at your sudden order, but obliges. <span style="color:#FF3333">Before your very eyes she's suddenly wearing a chef's outfit, and poorly balancing a dozen eggs on her violin. You shake your head, and carefully move behind her, adjusting her grasp so no eggs fall off of her violin.</span> "You'll crack the eggs if you hold it that way." You offer, and she looks at you like you're insane.
<<set $EdithAff to 2>>
She doesn't stop you from putting your hands on hers, to adjust her grasp, however. <span style="color:#FF3333">The eggs are all but forgotten in the face of your fathomless imagination, and as you speak to her of flour and chicken and knives, you see a slight spark in her gaze as she truly immerses herself in your strange attempt to teach her something you don't even know. For a short period of time, she's willing to let her guard fall, and to play along with your imagined kitchen. You don't need to exchange words here, you know she's Edith, and she knows you're $name, and together you're imagining.</span>
<<set $Edith to true>>
And for that short period, the two of you play the most beautiful music with her hands, tears slowly falling from her eyes as she hears it, as she truly ''feels'' the spark of inspiration you're trying to inspire in her. The two of you stand like that for a time, two utter strangers, united by the beauty of music and cooking, and slowly you both stop imagining so hard.
<<set $EdithSkill to 2>>
She immediately smacks your hands off of her own, and puts the violin onto her desk without a word. Edith smiles for a moment, but it fades slowly, and she opens the door to let you out. Her mind is reeling, and it's clear she's coming to terms with a ''lot'' of cognitive dissonance from briefly being happy with music. Hopefully you made a real difference here today.
You let yourself out, and soon enough you've reached Nedallia's door. You can tell it's her door since someone's painted it every color of the rainbow, and you knock. You only get the one knock out before the door's opened, revealing the halfling in question. "$name! You made it!" She pulls you into a hug, but with her height compared to yours, it's essentially just her hugging your crotch and nuzzling her head against it.
Her huge gorgeous eyes look into your own from that position, and she offers a, "You're fine with cheap pizza, right?" And out of instinct you nod. Pizza will be good no matter the price, even if you have no idea what pizza really is yet. She disentangles from you, and claps.
[[Wait for your pizza lunch.|NedalLunch1]]<<elseif $Coin >= 3>>You've never touched an instrument, probably, but it's clear there's more to this than just instruments. She wouldn't be this bad at playing //and// this defensive unless there was some missing piece you aren't able to physically see. "This isn't about the instruments, is it?" You ask, and she looks away.
"It's alright, I'm terrible with instruments." You say, leaving off the 'too' of that sentence. She grimaces somewhat, before sighing loudly. "This is a really shitty try at making me a better musician so far." She offers, and you can't really disagree. "That's fair. But there's potential in you, I can see it, and by jove I can sure hear it." At first you aren't sure of your words, but there's the slightest spark in her, someplace your eyes can't see.
It's the kind of spark that ignites a fire, tiny on its own, but given food to grow, perhaps something greater. You can almost conceptualize its visibility, someplace in her core, before pulling back from staring directly at her center of mass too hard. "You just need to figure out what's holding you back, and come to terms with it. Or cut it loose." She laughs one singular laugh, before crossing her arms.
"You're telling me to get //therapy?//" She asks, partly with indignance, partly for further input, since you seem to see something in her. She didn't seem sure that spark was in her until you reassured her. You shrug. "No, not necessarily. If therapy will put your chains to rest, then get therapy. If there's another way you'd prefer, do that. But you won't change anything if you just sit and wait. I think you know that by now."
<<set $EdithAff to 1>> <<set $EdithSkill to 1>>
The gorgeous woman nods one single quick nod, before sighing heavily. "Alright. I'll give it a try." Is all she can offer you before closing the door quietly. Hopefully that's forward progress, you don't know. Talking is easy, but permanent change is hard. You stand by the door for a few moments longer, in case she needs your words for further help, but eventually you must head up the stairs.
On the third floor, at the end of a hallway, stands a tall wooden door that someone's painted to resemble a hidden eye poster. This is Nedallia's room, you know it to be true. She immediately opens the door after you've knocked, smiling wide. "$name! You made it!" She exclaims, hugging you tightly. Since you are not in fact three feet tall like she appears to be, she's mostly just hugging your crotch.
After nuzzling her head against your groin in the way only a friend could do, she meets your gaze. "Pizza's fine with you, even if it isn't very good, yeah?" You nod immediately. Pizza is always good, despite your lack of understanding of what pizza is.
[[Await your pizza.|NedalLunch1]]<<else>>You have no idea how instruments work, and are only mostly sure that music comes from them, but she needs someone to help her. You have no strong ideas one way or the other, but you won't squander this chance to try. "Maybe the problem..." You begin, thinking, "...maybe it'd help if I listened to you playing for a bit?" She looks at you like you're stupid, but ultimately relents, and goes to her pile of instruments.
The beautiful girl scoops up a trumpet that's been somewhat stained by her lipstick from an earlier playing, and motions for you to enter. You oblige, and sit down on the long couch she's got in here. This is way nicer than your dorm room. You don't let your brain hyperfixate on the couch, you have to listen to her play. And listen you do, even as your ears beg you to stop, from the horrible noises that shouldn't even come from an instrument.
But you sit through it all, as too-high too-low pitches assail you from every angle of the room. She seems to lose her confidence partway through, but you won't let her stay down on herself, so you give her a reassuring smile, which prompts her to inhale deeply, before continuing. It does not improve despite your clear positive impact on her morale.
By the end of it, your psyche is only marginally worse off than before, which isn't that shocking given the nature of your existence. You can't bring yourself to applaud, but she clearly doesn't want that from you right now. There's tears of frustration in her eyes, but she bites back her verbal venom to thank you for trying. "I actually felt like I was getting somewhere, but, like always with these ''stupid'' instruments..." She moans and groans, then throws the poor abused trumpet onto the floor.
<<set $EdithAff to 1>>
"...thank you." She says, wiping the tears from her eyes, and trying to calm down. "But I just need to be alone right now." You let yourself out, and close the door for her gently. That could've gone better, but you know she still appreciates the moral support. You stand there awkwardly for a minute as you collect yourself, then head right up the stairs to the third floor.
Nedallia's door is immediately apparent, since its colors are just as wild and directionless as her shirt's own. You knock gently, and she opens it in record time, smiling warmly in your presence. It makes you feel a lot better. "$name! You made it!" Nedallia exclaims, wrapping her arms around you in a hug.
The height difference makes it way more suggestive than it would be otherwise, with her head pressed against your crotch. She doesn't seem to mind, so why should you? Eventually, she looks up into your eyes, and asks, "Is cheap pizza fine with you?" Instantly you agree, pizza would be great! Even if you don't know what the hell it is.
[[Await the arrival of pizza.|NedalLunch1]]<</if>><<set $FlirtStat to $FlirtStat + 1>>From her haughty look alone you know this is unlikely to work in your favor. <<if $Swords >= 4>>You smile confidently, and say bluntly, "You." She squints at you, and crosses her arms mightily. "Fuck off, weirdo!" She yells, shutting the door on you. It stops the music, if nothing else. Apparently immense bluntness isn't what she's into, but it's what you're best suited for.<<elseif $Wands >= 4>>With a dramatic flourish, you inform her, "I'm after the finest jewel in this entire building, and I heard they locked her away in just this very room...the stunning beauty that radiates from you fits the bill exactly." She rolls her eyes, and chuckles a bit. "I'm sure that works on //all// the plain-looking girls you practiced on, but not me." Poetics wasn't the perfect solution to this puzzle, but it's all you had to offer. She closes the door in your face, but the music doesn't resume.<<elseif $Coin >= 4>>She probably holds her inability to make good music close to her heart. Go for the kill. "I was just walking by, and I happened to hear the most beautiful melody coming from this room...I had to see what it was." You've never lied so effectively before. She averts her gaze, her haughtitude clearly wounded by this concept, but she recovers swiftly. "As if! No-one will say it, but I can tell from the looks...they think I'm terrible."
Press the advantage, give her no quarter. "They just don't know good music like I do." That should have worked, but it just angers her. "No, obviously they do! This is ''THE'' musician's fratrority house! Maybe ''you'' don't know good music, you uncultured swine!" She slams the door in your face after that. That should have worked, and it seemed to partially, but this is one tough cookie.<<elseif $Cups >= 4>>Time for some wacky antics to win her over. The cosmos guides your hand, your very soul eminates with the knowledge of the ages. "If you want to talk about it, I'd be happy to listen." You eventually say, blinking a few times in disbelief at that. Cups will never cease to surprise, which is in itself not surprising. She pauses for a time, before averting her gaze and slowly closing the door on you, stopping you in your prime.<<else>>"You're very beautiful, and I think I want you. Like in bed. Or romantically. I don't really know yet." She blushes, and rolls her eyes. "You can't...you can't just walk up to someone and say that, that's not how conversations work!" Oh, right... She tries to muster some more confused, concerned words that drip with venom, but comes up short because of her shock, ultimately deciding to shut the door on you.<</if>>
You get the feeling this literally could never have gone better, maybe there's a time and place for flirting, or maybe she's just immune to your powers of flirtation. The music isn't deafening you anymore regardless, so this is still a win in some ways. Up the stairs, to the third floor, at the end of a hall, stands a door painted with a total rainbow of colors. This must be her. You knock, and all of the stress from that lightly blue woman leaves you in an instant as you see the smiling halfling. This is entirely the opposite of the prior reaction to a knocked on door.
"$name! You made it!" She exclaims, holding her arms out wide for a hug. You embrace her as best you can with the height-difference, but it mostly just mashes her face against the crotch of your pants. She does not seem to care, still beaming. "You're fine with cheap pizza, right?" She asks suddenly, and you nod instantly. You don't know what pizza is for sure, but for some reason you know you'll like it in basically any form. Especially if it's free.
[[Wait for pizza to occur.|NedalLunch1]]"Nothing. Nevermind." You say, closing the door on her. You hear an exasperated gasp from the other side, before she stomps back over to the pile of discarded instruments, and begins to smash angrily on a keytar. Whatever. Just get to Nedallia, enough gorgeous bad-musician interlude.
You head up the stairs further, eventually reaching the legendary third floor. There are several doors here, but the one at the very end of the hall is painted with rainbow madness that seems to fit Nedallia's brand. Walking up, you knock, smiling when the smiling halfling opens the door instead of a mean bad musician.
"$name! You made it!" She exclaims, holding her arms out wide for a hug. You embrace her as best you can with the height-difference, but it mostly just mashes her face against the crotch of your pants. She does not seem to care, still beaming. "You're fine with cheap pizza, right?" She asks suddenly, and you nod instantly. You don't know what pizza is for sure, but for some reason you know you'll like it in basically any form. Especially if it's free.
[[Wait for pizza to occur.|NedalLunch1]]Instead of letting you wait silently in the doorway, Nedallia entangles you in conversation, and invites you in. You walk in, taking in the sight of her lovely bed. That's two short girls with a bed comically larger than your own. What a sick joke. "Your bed's nice." You say, about the same time you notice that fact. She giggles, and nods. "Uh-huh, it's super-duper. Very stain resistant, because of magic." She gives you a certain look, before sitting her thicc self down at her desk.
<<set $MetRubi to true>>
It has her iconic journal on it, and she's quick to open it. The orange-haired halfling taps her chin for a moment, before shaking her head. "I was gonna draw something, but since we're hangin' out, that doesn't seem fair. We should do something together!" She exclaims, motioning with her hand and magically closing the door. She keeps saying these suggestive things, but it's always with a straight face.
"You could draw me." You offer, but she chuckles. "I already did that, silly, it's how I remembered your name...no, we could do something more //fun// than that!" She gives you a wink, and hops out of her chair. If there wasn't the idea of sex in the air before, her taking off her pants to reveal the full glory of her toned legs sure does. She's wearing a pair of pretty, overly colorful panties that hug her fat ass tightly.
Nedallia walks over to her bed, and climbs onto it, laying on her stomach wordlessly. After a few moments, she pats the bed next to her, and you sit. "Soooo..." She begins, clicking her tongue a few times. Her hand crawls over to your pants, before she's forced to pause by a knocking at the door. There's the flash of agitation on Nedallia's otherwise care-free face, but it leaves as quick as it arrives. You start to get up, but she gently squeezes your crotch.
"Who is it!" She shouts, receiving a, "Rubi." in response. That makes her grip tighten for a moment, but it passes. Her hand slyly moves to your knee, as she shouts, "Come in!"
A girl wearing the same purple and gold that the few non-costume'd people you saw out front wearing enters. Her skin is a soft cocoa, and she's somewhat tall by your standards. Rubi pauses for a moment in her entry when she sees you, but Nedallia's warm smile and wave hello gives her the strength needed to push past the strangeness.
"So, about those new recruits, uh...does he need to be here for this?" Rubi asks, unable to focus on her train of thought with the lingering questions about this whole situation. Nedallia looks at you, then at her, then nods rapidly. "M-hm! It's his //first day,// of his //first year!// And he asked to have lunch with me, so I'd hate to push him away!" Rubi can't refute whatever point that was, simply closing her eyes and collecting her thoughts.
"Alright, yeah, alright..." Rubi rubs her forehead for a moment, before continuing, "...I just think your, uh, 'special test' is a bit...much." Nedallia tilts her head, and shamelessly moves her hand over your crotch slowly and purposefully, squeezing it once more. This situation is quickly growing more and more deranged. "What about it?" Nedallia asks, as if what she's doing is normal. Rubi's eyes are briefly glued on the halfling's hand, but she just carries on.
"It's been...a while, since our freshman year, is all...you've sort of changed a ''lot'' of our image since then, and it..." Rubi plays with her hands nervously for a moment as her eyes return to your crotch, pants clearly straining to contain the latest in a series of erections. "...this just feels like an 'old AKT' thing. If that's the direction you're taking this, I'm still your VP, but, I need to know these things //as// you plan them."
Nedallia pauses her groping of your crotch, to peer upward at you. "Do you think my special test is too much, $name?" That's a loaded question without any context, but Rubi's confused reaction tells you what this is really about. The stacked halfling just wants to know if you want to keep escalating this.
[[This isn't too much.|NedalLunchFun]]
[[This is too much.|NedalLunchUnfun]]"No, I don't think so. It might not be far enough, actually." You say, feeling cool as hell for picking up on the unspoken question she's asking. Rubi stands up after hearing you say that, but Nedallia interrupts her immediate evacuation. "Rubi, I'm calling the //super secret code,// section D." The halfling says, gradually unzipping your pants. "Really? On //this// guy?" Rubi asks. Nedallia nods rapidly. "Mhm! I've felt it! Plus, you called the //super secret code// and owe me one."
The double-meaning here is slightly harder to grasp, but Rubi's change in stance from sneaking away to striding back tells you all you need to know for sure. The pretty tall VP motions with her hand, the door audibly locking as she does so. "No take-backs." She says simply, before crawling onto the bed and pushing you onto your back with a manicured light cocoa hand. Rubi puts her hand under Nedallia's, which is apparently struggling with your zipper quite a bit.
<<set $SexValue to $SexValue + 1>>
In one swift motion, Rubi unzips your pants, and the shaky smile that overtakes her face is immediate upon seeing your monster-cock held back only by your underwear. "Okay, you were right, this //is// worth calling the secret code over, section D." Rubi's eyes pour over your crotch hungrily, while Nedallia, smiling slyly, starts properly pulling your pants off of you. "I'm glad you agree, my cutie VP!"
"...You have a secret code?" You finally ask, and the two exchange a glance, and both nod at different speeds. Nedallia's is more excited, and Rubi's is more reserved. "Yep-yep! It's a VP-President thing, the super secret codes of AKT are way more boring, and involve less of your big fat penis." Nedallia explains, yanking your underwear off of you. The resulting forehead-penis-smack that occurs only makes her smile wider. You can see Rubi visibly shiver in anticipation.
"Don't tell anyone, but Rubi //really// likes big peens like yours." Nedallia says, whispering as loud as she talks normally. The shortstack then properly whispers something to Rubi, who eagerly nods. "Okidokie, go ahead and sit on the edge of the bed, $name." You're happy to oblige, getting off of your back, and scooting to the foot of the bed. Your legs dangle off, onto the floor. The two girls move as well, Nedallia onto your lap, and Rubi onto the ground in front of you.
She's just tall enough on her knees to kiss the tip of your cockhead, which she does with a certain hunger. A little bit of lipstick is left behind, red in coloration, marking that part of you. After her sudden kiss, she inhales deeply, leaning forward, and burying her nose between your fat nuts. She moans and groans and sniffs like an animal, muttering an occasional 'fuck' as she works herself deeper and deeper into a lust.
Nedallia stands on your lap while this is happening, at first just watching with a gleeful smile, but eventually she notices the moisture forming on her panties. The cute halfling whispers into your ear, //"Get ready to see my favorite magic trick."// She then counts to five on her fingers. Reaching five, the president of AKT through a series of impressive stretches and twists, does a precarious hand-stand on your legs. Her shaking, uncertain thighs quickly loop around your head, pulling her barely-covered butt, and her rapidly soaking pussy, into your face rapidly.
"That was the hard part, now the fun one!" She exclaims, grinding her panty-clad pussy along your nose slowly. She smells like pure lust right now, and lilac soap. Such fine details wouldn't be lost on a gentleman like you, even as she's taking your cockhead into her mouth. Rubi's brought back to focus at the hard work that her president's going through, and begins to run her tongue in circles around each of your huge nuts.
The tanned halfling's impossible to out-do, however, especially while she has your face buried in her big, round ass. In response to the desperate movements of Rubi, Nedallia hollows her cheeks out, and begins to lewdly slurp and suckle at your cockhead, swallowing pre-cum with a passion. Then she gives you a break from that, and instead begins to encircle your huge tip with her tongue rapidly. You have enough heightened perception in your ass-blinded state to know that she's spelling out your name with her tongue.
Neat party trick, and it's making you shudder and groan rapidly, so it's clearly effective. You can hear Rubi groan in lustful agitation, then the noise of clothes hitting the ground. She's definitely touching herself now, at least with one hand, since the other seems to be pumping your shaft by its base as best she can with its immense thickness. Finally, the cunning Rubi realizes there //is// something she can do that Nedallia can't right now.
"You like it when I inhale your fucking nuts like a slut, don't you?" She asks, suddenly sounding a ''lot'' less reserved and nervous. All you can offer is a groan, which makes Nedallia's pussy quiver a little. Rubi seems to stand tall, biting your ear gently, and whispering into it all while pumping your shaft. "She //really// wants to swallow all of your backed-up nutsludge, you know that? That means she either ''really'' likes you, or she's totally ''hooked'' on your big..." Rubi's grip tightens on your base, before roughly jerking you off with a fury. "...Fat..." She moves Nedallia's panties out of the way, allowing you to taste heaven. You begin to slurp and tongue-fuck her pussy with the same passion Nedallia's putting in.
"Cock." Rubi finally says, panting somewhat, now using both hands to jerk off what Nedallia's mouth can't reach from this angle. Nedallia's been sent into overdrive by your desperate tongue-fucking of her pussy, which itself is clearly trying to milk your tongue as if it were a cock, to no avail. The halfling's noisily and messily fucking her face with your dick as best as she's able without letting go of your face, it's a miracle you've lasted even this long.
"Show me what those sweaty fucking balls are good for, c'mon, cum. Fill her up. Fill her up! Fill her up!" Rubi chants, in a manner not too dissimilar from someone chanting 'chug'. Your willpower crumbles after long enough ruining the halfling's throat, and Rubi's words indeed take hold. You finally ejaculate, groaning loudly into the provided pillows. Nedallia gulps greedily and noisily, slurping, and repeating her hollowing cheeks to suck you dry as fast and effectively as possible.
Rubi removes one of her hands from your shaft to squeeze and massage your massive nuts, perhaps in an attempt to coax out as much as she's able. Her other hand moves to quickly support your back as you start falling backwards. With her help, you stay upright. Meanwhile, even while you're still cumming your brains out, Nedallia starts to disentangle from your face, skillfully pulling all but your tip out of her mouth, still suckling greedily at you, even when you start to feel overstimulated. Rubi's hand quickly moves from your back to one of Nedallia's thick thighs, carefully helping her president to sit back on your lap without tumbling comically.
You can see again, and despite not doing either half of the hard face-fucking, Rubi looks positively worn-out and blissful, shuddering occasionally, but still focused as ever. Once you finally stop flooding Nedallia's mouth, she leaves your dick alone, motioning for Rubi to come hither. The loyal VP does so quickly, hand squeezing on the halfling's toned tan thigh eagerly. The two exchange a kiss, lewdly and obviously exchanging your semen between the two of them.
Not needing to support anyone on your face or cock, you finally collapse onto your back, with a satisfied groan. "I think he liked it, Rubi." Nedallia says, as Rubi repeatedly swallows and moans. "I liked it too, you goofy-ass...all of us did, obviously." Rubi offers back, but the halfling just giggles. "So silly, Rubi...it wouldn't be a section D if we didn't all have fun!" Your eyes feel heavy, and you slowly start to drift off.
Rubi shakes you awake quickly, smiling down at you. "Sorry, $name. No-one but Nedallia sleeps on her bed." Your eyes finally pour over Rubi's naked body, she's a lithe beauty with just enough breast and ass to cover her. Truly these two are opposite ends of some vague spectrum. "Okay." You say, almost jumping to the ceiling when you hear a knocking at the door.
Rubi looks to Nedallia, and Nedallia smiles mischeviously. "Who is it!" She shouts. "Wyrn, ma'am! Just thanking you for the pizza, and bringing some up for you!" Is shouted back through the door, and Nedallia quickly puts her pants back on, snapping to Rubi, then pointing at the door. Rubi nods, these two are like a well-oiled machine together.
Opening the door a crack, Rubi takes two boxes from the outsider. "Thank you for the pizza, and Nedallia says you earned it for being so good as Blamduff in that gnomish play." Rubi says through the barely opened door, before shutting it on Wyrn. She exhales, looks at the brand on the box, and smiles instead. "You really do listen when I say no more pushing our budget." The three of you sit, in various stages of naked, eating pizza, but Rubi mostly spends the time drinking water from beneath Nedallia's bed.
When you ask about Rubi seeming so orgasmic despite you and Nedallia being the ones going at it so hard, the two exchange a knowing glance. "It's my particular kind of magic, my family's always been good at it, but, it's especially pronounced in me." Rubi begins. "I can lend others my energy, and as a weird side-effect, I can...//feel// the sensations they feel while they burn it off. My great grand-pop used it to help soldiers recover on the battlefield, and my mom's a nurse, but neither of them had the side-effect I do, so...I can't really use it as heroically."
Very interesting. "Did that kiss mean something, between you two?" You ask, and Nedallia giggles. "You silly guy! Girls kiss //all the time,// but, since you want to know so bad, we're just in a special agreement together. It goes both ways. Sometimes you want someone to kiss, sometimes you just need someone to bring you water, but I wouldn't call us girlfriends, or anything...we're more loose than that."
"More professional." Rubi says, and Nedallia nods quickly. "Very professional! Other Presidents and Vice Presidents fall out, or spin out, or disagree, but we get along great, even with our small tensions!" You'd love to chat away with these two while recovering your strength, but your phone's clock reminds you of class. "This was amazing, but I've gotta get to class." You say. The two nod at their different speeds as you dress.
<<set $RubiAff to 2>>
As you let yourself out, and go onto the yard, a dwarven fellow offers you a high-five. You only have the strength right now to give him one or two, and he gets that, since he has to jump to reach your hand so high up. The hall that Mystic Anthropology lay within is different than Gobgaks hall, and the windows show that this class will be in an actual classroom.
[[To Mystic Anthropology.|MA0]]"Yeah, it's, uh- too much." You say, and Nedallia shrugs. "Oh, I see!" She says, nodding. Her hand slowly leaves your crotch, to which Rubi visibly relaxes. "Well, I appreciate your concern, both of you, but, I went to a party at ''each'' of the fratrorities recently, and I noticed...they're totally out-classing us!" Nedallia exclaims, gesticulating with her now free hand.
"Out-classing you?" You ask, and Nedallia nods rapidly. Rubi blinks a few times, sitting next to you on the bed, either tired of standing or comfortable enough to sit. "You heard my answer already Nedallia, if you want to do this, I'll follow you, but no surprises like this." Rubi doesn't motion at you, but it's clear that her request holds a double-meaning.
"Surprises are what make life fun, Rubi! But, I'll compromise with you, and do my proper presidential duty, by telling you all of my ideas and plans...later, of course, it's still lunch!" Seeing that's the best she'll be getting, Rubi nods, before briefly meeting your gaze. Some kind of respect that only you may witness.
The three of you sit there, with Nedallia starting on a grand talk about the parties she went to, and the laps the other fratrorities are running around AKT. Even House KEK, with its coocoo crazy lady leader is having way better parties, which is apparently some source of pride for them. Nedallia doesn't seem to want them to lord that over her this year, so she's turning to drastic fun-making measures, whatever that may mean.
Soon enough, a dwarven fellow is knocking on the door with a stack of pizzas, and thanking Nedallia for ordering them, and asking if she wanted any. Rubi briefly frowns at the concept of Nedallia ordering pizza, but seems to relax when she sees the brand on the boxes as the dwarf leaves two of them for his leaders. With the three of you alone once more, it's time to consume pizza.
The strange circular disks are better than anything you could have imagined it to be, despite the hot fluid known as grease trying to punish you for your gluttony. Cheese, pep-ar-oni, mushroom, it all tastes new and amazing to you, and loosely reminds of the majesty that is lasagna. That probably still takes first place, but this is clearly way more accessible.
<<set $RubiAff to 1>>
Nedallia jokes and jests the entire time, and Rubi laughs along with her, with you, and occasionally at you while showing you how to properly hold a slice of pizza. "You're one strange man." She says, not as an insult, just as a little observation. Nedallia cheers at that, agreeing as if that were a badge of pride. All good things must come to an end, and as much as you'd love to stay here with these two, you need to get to class.
As you exit, the two have already started discussing their plans for the year, and the dwarf that gave the pizzas just keeps trying to high-five you. It's fun the first seven times, but he's clearly getting tired of jumping by the tenth. Leaving AKT behind, you get to Mystic Anthropology, or at least the hall it's in. Through the windows, you can make out that it seems to take place in a more traditional classroom.
[[To class, then.|MA0]]A familiar student, $NotTrevor, raises his hand. The professor nods at him and waits. "Are the tests going to be...about, what we read?" He asks, clearly still reeling from Professor Sagax. Strodev nods again, just as gently. "Yes. That's standard for this class, and most classes, Mister Jeremy." Jeremy seems to smile at being called his name by a teacher today.
"The first area of focus will be a personal favorite of mine: Old Kika'Dag. Everyone knows the basics by now, I'm sure, the largest merchant empire of ancient history, delved into dangerous magic, then fell into ruin." He underlines the chapters and page numbers a few times, before sitting back down.
"Who can tell me something more in-depth than that?" The Professor asks patiently. Laferl raises his hand, and the demonic fellow points at him. "Uh...weren't they killed by demons they created, like...y'know..." The goblin vaguely gesticulates toward the professor, who nods simply. "Yes, that's true. The first demons were made from that society's magical experiments, an ageless people with immense magical prowess."
Next Rumiyuko raises her hand, and the professor points to her from his desk. "Old Kika'Dag was a predominantly orcish empire, during a time when orcs were discriminated against by the rest of the world. Through commerce, they hoped to mend their relations with the other people of the world." Strodev nods in agreement.
"Yes, the same ancient society that sought acceptance too delved into forbidden magic. That is the trouble with ancient societies, through their good and bad, you can often see their pure intentions nearer the start." Since the two students surrounding you asked something, you decide to as well.
"If demons are ageless...and Old Kika'Dag is your favorite subject...were you alive for it?" The red fellow finally breaks his calm face, looking briefly sad, but it fades quickly. "Yes, I was. It was quite some time ago now, as I'm sure you know. I was present during its fall, and for a time I even danced in the flames like many other demons did. But as you can tell, I decided to beat back against the troublesome past of my people, instead of doubling down."
The class goes on like that for a while still, and even without reading a thing about Old Kika'Dag, you hear a ''lot'' about the ''Day of Flame.'' The day when a small group of demons killed the empress of Kika'Dag after seducing her, which was quite easy given that was what they were manufactured to do. Outraged by her sudden death, the royal guards razed the palace in an attempt to kill the defective demons, but the flames spread, and the demons proved shockingly fire-proof.
You're so busy imagining sexy demons and fire and whatever people wore back then, that you barely notice the class ending. You take a photo of the study material listed on the board, before heading out. That felt better than Sagax's class, and you don't have a first day many-word essay for this class.
[[Exit class.|ExitedClassed]]With your only two classes for the day taken care of, you think about what to do next. It's not really evening, so you don't have to dwell on whatever evening plans lay awaiting you just yet. Essays like what Professor Sagax wants are usually typed, and you need to study some kind of book on Old Kika'dag for Professor Strodev. That leaves only one option: the library.
<<set $NotTrevor to "Jeremy">>
You don't know where the campus library is, but your map sure does. It's a small thing, easy enough to miss as you wander in its vague direction. The sea of students doesn't slow you now, you've had to walk among them enough by now to understand how best to swim. Placed squarely between a dorm and a cafe, lay the sad little building in question.
<<set $ClassEffort to 0>>
Its windows are tinted, curiously, so your hard staring proves fruitless. You decide to wander inside, and enter a ''REALM OF KNOWLEDGE.'' It's a calm place, that would be rather silent if not for the typing at keyboards or the rolling of dice. You can see Emelyn, the silver-haired half-elf from room 210, playing some tabletop roleplaying game with her fellow nerds. Her roommate Rumiyuko is absent, curiosly.
You can barely immerse your brain in one new world, trying to immerse it in //two// would probably kill you, so you pass on an extended TTRPG sequence for now. Instead you start investigating the spines of books for any help with your classes, while listening to them talk about ancient tombs and treasures. You're not really finding anything on specifically Old Kika'dag, or how to write an essay without typing it on a computer.
<<if $Quest is true>>Long-Dead Bloodlines of Nasty Star-Stuff, by Tathalan Beibelar, one of your professors. It sits upon one of many shelves, taunting you, tempting you. It was really easy to find, it'd be no trouble at all to read it like you were asked, if you decide to. It isn't like you're going to find another book worth reading here.
<<set $QuestCompleted to 3>>
[[Crack open the tome at some distant table.|Bloodlines1]]
[[Don't do that, and instead ask this library's guardian about your class books.|Librarian0]]<<else>>The students presently here seem more invested in their own interests than in helping you find the relevant study material, but you vaguely know that libraries should have some kind of keeper. The keeper of the books, or whatever, who knows with people that guard books. Looking around, you notice this library's guardian sat behind a front desk.
[[Approach the keeper of knowledge.|Librarian0]]<</if>>In a back corner, protected from view by various tall bookshelves, you sit at a table. You set the book down on the table without even needing to grab it in the first place. It's a plain-looking thing, only really standing out because of its thickness, and the title. As you open it and begin to read, it's clearly apparent this was written to prove some vague thesis or another.
Professor Beibelar writes very simply, to-the-point, and with very little room for interpretation. His proper thesis statement is made up of too many layers of academic gibberish for you to comprehend, but everything past that point is easy to understand. The author states that there are three proper groups that any Eldritch Horror can be filed into, to best discern what it wants and if you're going to die.
There are helpful examples given, from fallen or benign bloodlines of these immense alien forces, as well as simple sketches. These three categories seem to be: Worldly, Unworldly, and Otherworldly. You can faintly make out a fourth category that's been erased, Void, which is strange since this is obviously not the original copy.
After skimming around, you're able to discern that Niolesa's almost certainly descended from a Worldly Entity. Worldly Entities range from parasitic to symbiotic with non-eldritch entities (like people), the main constant is that they benefit from what non-eldritch entities can offer them. It takes a lot of page-turning, but you ''think'' she's descended from an ancient Eldritch Horror largely rooted in dreams and secrets.
You begin to yawn, is this a dry text?
Apparently Worldly Entities tend to cling onto a mortal concept, to make it easier for mortals to offer them sacrifices, the side-effect of this is it tends to shape the Entity's powers and worldview. This seems to be unique to Worldly Entities, so too is their ability to be killed by a mere gun if they're weak enough from lack of offerings.
Her ancestor's usual sacrifices included orphans, animals, and bowls of milk with coins mixed in. It takes a bit more reading of this extremely boring book, but apparently even the descendents of a Worldly Entity can gain power through the sacrifice and belief of mortals. That's probably what she's after.
<<set $QuestCompleted to 1>>
You're vaguely curious about that whole 'Void' thing, but no matter what page you turn to, there's nothing about it, so the book must be put back on its shelf. After putting it back without getting up, you yawn again.
Time flies fast when you're having fun, and also when you're not. After staring at all of those esoteric symbols, you're feeling a little tired. It strikes you that you might be getting drawn back into her realm now that you've completed your book-quest.
[[Fall into slumber.|DSSD01]]The Librarian, Guardian of Knowledge, Speaker of Books, Collector of Overdue Fees, looks at you from behind her front desk. When it's apparent you aren't going to say anything, and instead stand there staring in her direction, she finally speaks. "Yes?" It's simple, but just enough from the scaled woman. Some kind of dragon-kin, in human shape. Her scales are a dull red in coloration, and you're focusing on something other than her question again.
"I need books to study for my classes: Mystic Anthropology, as taught by Professor Strodev, and Introduction to Arcanism by Professor Sagax." You inform her, which seems to lessen her confusion. "Ah. We carry the older editions and various published works by campus personnel, but the latest books would need to be properly purchased." You have no intention of buying something in a house of knowledge.
"Can I have one of the older editions from both of them? Or even a book just on Old Kika'dag?" You query, to which the librarian ticky-taps on her keyboard, waiting a moment. "We had a book on Old Kika'dag, several actually, but someone's checked them out recently." The librarian types again, and then nods. "...but we have plenty of Professor Sagax's previous works, and what seems to be an earlier work from Professor Strodev." The dragon-lady states some vague numbers and section to you.
It takes a while, but you find the section and numbers in question, peeling the books free of their captivity. ''Demons Throughout History: From Kika'dag to Japan'' by Professor Strodev, and ''AN OPEN LETTER TO MY SO-CALLED BETTERS'' by Professor Sagax. You didn't really need to see the actual author's name to know these were written by your professors, the titles alone really tell all.
<<set $ClassEffort to 1>>
Taking the book out of this house of knowledge is forbidden, you're told, without a library card. It'll take too long to make one for you right now, but you can still read freely. So you do so, in a far-off corner, by your lonesome. Since you need to write many, many words for Sagax later, you decide to start with his. There are various academic awards on the cover, praising your professor's hyper-intelligent, ahead-of-his-time, out-of-the-box contributions to the field of magic.
The author's tone is informative, but dripping with angst and acid. An exerpt: ''Despite what my not-quite-betters may claim, there is not a LACK of evidence of a spark, it cannot be measured by its presence, only by its absence. To file this under mere theorem would be the kind of pig-headed mania found only in academia. In roughly twenty years, a student will be reading this, knowing that I was correct, and you were a bunch of self-centered fools.''
You blink a few times at that, then glance over the cover just to make sure this isn't a book of prophecy. It isn't, so you continue for a while yet. The contents of this book will be like a shield in Sagax's class, allowing you to deflect and protect from his impossible riddles. Strodev's book is far more formal, but it does not dwell long on Old Kika'dag, given that it is a complete history. What little you can glean from it will too prove useful, if less prophetic.
Books really do send you on a little adventure when read, as time has flown by. The sun's lower in the sky than you've ever seen before, so you decide to stop studying for now. You politely put the books back, since you've already burned their numbers and genre into your skull.
[[Exit the library, enlightened.|LeaveLibrarby1]]<<set $QuestCompleted to 2>>You don't bother with trying to get to the dorm, you definitely won't make it that far before falling unconscious. You put your head on the table, and your eyes are closed already. When they next open, you're in an empty dorm room, there's no furniture at all. The window reveals tall spires outside, like enormous apartment buildings of strange shape.
It takes no time at all for Niolesa to also be present in this room, which she's a bit too tall to fit in properly. Instead the obfuscated Eldritch Lady slouches somewhat in her big robes. Her deep blue eyes blink a few times as she waits. "I read it." You eventually say, which makes her happy, even if you can't see her expression. A hand obfuscated by shadow reaches down to touch your skull. It's a rather huge hand, befitting of someone 15 something feet tall.
When her fingers spread, they split into strange tendrils, one of which gently taps your forehead. You feel an electrical shock between the two of you, and her eyes are rapidly overcome by colorful television static. The outside world of this dream has turned entirely to inky blackness, through which numerous eyes are staring in at you. You can hear familiar rattling chains, and mocking chuckles.
''YOUR SLEEPING MIND''
''IS A VOLATILE, DANGEROUS THING''
''TO TRY TO READ. LITTLE ONE.''
''AND IT IS AN AMUSING EFFORT FOR A GNAT TO WISH''
''CLAIM OVER DREAMS. OVER SOMETHING UNREAL AS I.''
That colorful static is seeping out of her eyes, and dripping onto the floor like fluid, as the dorm room slowly begins to crack and dent inward. She stands stiff and still, as if the ability to think and act has been entirely robbed from her. You can see unmovement outside, ''NO-NAME''. Niolesa is //not// holding up well through all of this, you can tell even without being able to witness most of her body.
''AND YOU WOULD HELP HER, NO LESS.''
''THAT SIMPLY WILL NOT DO.''
''WHO ARE YOU,''
''TO TRY THIS?''
<<if $Wands >= 4>>That book was extremely boring, but you did manage to retain a few random bits of knowledge from it all the same. Eldritch Horrors tend not to do well against magic, to varying degrees of impact. Despite what's been done to Niolesa, you're oddly able to move and think freely still. Focus, Intent, Emotion. Like the noble elk. There's bizarre crackling static that surrounds you briefly, the same kind that pours from the Eldritch Aspirant's eyes. It feels like pure, unfiltered energy burning and bubbling up in your veins. With a push of your hands, there's the sound of glass being pieced together. <span style="color:#FF3333">You are stability.</span><<elseif $Swords >= 4>><span style="color:#FFFFC5">You are change,</span> and the only cure for a tyrant of this caliber is to be overthrown. You are not No-Name's equal, not by a long-shot, but unlike him you are physical, you are ''real.'' Your timing is everything. You walk near the window, and inhale deeply with a clenched fist. As the glass shatters, you punch with everything that you are.<<elseif $Coin >= 4>>Who are you indeed, to try this? The question weighs heavy on you, making your movements slow and sluggish as you try to fend it off. You consider everything you've done today, everything you still intend to do later in this day alone, and know who you are. <span style="color:#B2FBA5">''"I AM POTENTIAL."''</span> You state back, with a resounding shockwave that briefly blinds you.<<elseif $Cups >= 4>>You need not reflect on a single thing to know the answer to that question, to have made it here, to somehow not be dead from whatever No-Name's doing to Niolesa, <span style="color:#90D5FF">you are luck.</span> You open yourself to the cosmos, and move as it moves, a grand design that no-one present can comprehend in its entirety. As glass and wall crumbles, your steps save you from the shrapnel. As tendrils from beyond try to grasp you, to slow your waltz with lady existence, they shriek and draw back from your skin's touch.<<else>>Who are you? Today's been a whole thing so far, but you know for sure the answer to that question, easily. It's basically habit at this point. There's no optional appearance text for this introduction, so you skip right to the reply. "$name. I'm $name. The new RA, replacing Rozzwell." There's a warbling of sorts at your statement, so you continue. "Rozzwell's spelled with two z's, and he lives on my floor as my roommate. I'm in college for a degree in Arcane Theory. Syllyvana seems smart, she could probably help me with that. And Quwertee would probably just punch you...she has a serious attitude thing going on, sometimes I wonder if I'm weird for not having these extreme emotions everyone else does...Sleanne's horny and talks really, really well...and, above all, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, I really like lasagna."<</if>>
The momentary disruption you cause seems to be enough, as before you know it, your environment has changed. You're within a cave, somewhere that smells like water and dirt. Niolesa is here too, shuddering on the ground, eyes back to their normal hues. It was likely her intervention that changed the dream, but it would've been impossible without you.
[[Continue.|DSSD02]]<span style="color:#8F00FF">"I thought you seemed a little out-there last time, but you're in communication with something of the void."</span> The Eldritch Lady says, seeming to recover quite rapidly from that. You feel a little sore, but otherwise fine. "It isn't something that I talk about a lot so far." You say, and she just sits in relative silence.
<span style="color:#8F00FF">"From what I did see, I learned what I needed to about restoring some kind of worth to my bloodline. Stay away from things of the void, they twist the self beyond recognition."</span> You can't really control that, but she doesn't need to know that right now. "You aren't going to eat orphans, are you?"
Her immense frame leans downward toward you, obfuscated as ever, but her tone has shifted somewhat. <span style="color:#8F00FF">"No, I don't intend to. That's the old way, I think I'll need a new way to grow nearer to a proper powerful Eldritch Deity."</span> She gently brushes one of her fingers against your head, but this time she clearly isn't trying to read your mind, she's just trying to reassure you.
"So, I read that book for you, and you tell me...something, I don't really remember what." Niolesa watches you as you ponder briefly. "Something about the college...why were you interacting with college kids, again?"You ask properly. <span style="color:#8F00FF">"It's not the kids that are special, it's the place. Millerfield borders quite thin against the veil that keeps here and there separate."</span> She probably doesn't mean here and there like literal places.
<span style="color:#8F00FF">"Other worlds, you know? They don't interlock very much, but it always produces interesting, potent things worth investing in or consuming when two worlds do intercept. Did you want anything else for your hard work?"</span> She asks in a tone that borders on sultry, though it comes from the direction of her crotch. You face it politely and respond,
"If you aren't going to use traditional sacrifices, what will you use?" There's the sound of wind chimes being blown on, though being in a cave there's an absence of both chimes and wind. <span style="color:#8F00FF">"I think you'll be a big help, having brushed with the void...I can see a few thick ways that it worked over you, made you more than person...and barring //your// help, it's time to switch from dream terror to something more mortal-friendly. That void-thing helped me realize that."</span>
The more twisted and perverse part of your mind knows what she's getting at, but you also want to make sure she isn't going to try to literally consume you. "How are you wanting me to help you, exactly?" Her glowing pools shimmer briefly, before you're overcome with thousands of images of pairs of lips swallowing your ejaculate. Yep, that's about right.
<span style="color:#8F00FF">"There's definitely some leftover void-residue in your testicles, I want you to imbue me with it as deeply and thoroughly as possible."</span> She says, both matter-of-factly and seductively. "Will that //change// me?" You ask, wanting to check all your bases. <span style="color:#8F00FF">"It shouldn't, just as a circle will always be circular, you will always be touched by the void, with all the...boons and drawbacks that endows. I doubt even that void-thing could take it back from you now."</span>
[[Remove your dream-pants.|DSSDYes]]
[[I don't really want to pump my void-residue into this giant dream woman.|DSSDNo]]Willing to go along with this now that you've checked all your bases, you pull down your dream-pants to present yourself to her. She turns a slightly lighter shade of obfuscated inky blackness, fanning herself off somewhat with a non-euclidean paper fan. <span style="color:#8F00FF">"I didn't mean right now, that wouldn't work anyways. No, to start with, you'll need to procure a bowl and some coins...we must lead our way up to letting you ravage my darkness, make a proper ritual of it all."</span>
<<set $SexValue to $SexValue + 1>>
Oh, yea, okay. You awkwardly put your dream-pants back on, but her shadow stops you mid-way through. <span style="color:#8F00FF">"I could still reward you for saving me from that void-thing, little guy. Keep the pants off, I need the practice for my new domain regardless..."</span>
You oblige, and sit on the cold cave floor. Some part of you contemplates climbing her to make good on those visions she gave you, and your cock throbs. Niolesa's robes spin and flap rapidly, covering her entirely, and rapidly compressing. Once it's compressed her into a miniscule shape, they expand once more, until she's back to her ordinary extremely tall self.
Noisily clattering onto the cavern floor is a far more reasonable 4 feet tall gift box, which begins to unwrap itself. Within that lovely cardboard box is a smaller version of those robes that Niolesa wears, but instead of obstructive shadow beneath, you can clearly see a soft looking figure that's black as pitch. This figure is clearly not alive, it appears to be an inert sex doll of sorts, though it's missing limbs and a head.
<span style="color:#8F00FF">"Touch it, slowly."</span> She says, reminding you that you have company. You oblige, and run your fingers gradually and sensually along the sex-doll's form, squeezing its squishy fat fake breasts, groping at its wide hips hungrily. This was obviously something made specifically for one purpose, given how she didn't even bother giving it eyes to look into.
<span style="color:#8F00FF">"Now bite it, please..."</span> Niolesa encourages you, as you push the doll onto the floor. That's a good idea, so you do it, nibbling and biting all over the doll, at its shoulders, at its firm side, at its wide hips. Your teeth-marks glow like stars on the doll's body, and soon enough you can't help yourself anymore. With your pants already halted in their putting-on, it's almost entirely unconscious that you slowly press your hips downward.
This lover isn't alive, nor a massive eldritch mommy, so it simply feels room-temperature as you grind your massive cockhead along its vagina. You grip its thick hips tightly, and thrust forward, meeting very little resistance despite its lack of lubrication. It feels wonderfully tight around you from just the first thrust, this is made of some incredible material. Its entire stomach area turns somewhat transparent as you suddenly slam your entire length into the sex doll. You can faintly see your cock stretching it to its limits, and the simple animalistic pleasure you're feeling just intensifies your rapid fucking.
<span style="color:#8F00FF">"You like that? I made it ''just'' for you, little one...though that's not really an accurate name during times of mating, is it?"</span> Her question falls upon deaf ears, this thing feels too damn good to really respond, as you grope its breasts roughly. <span style="color:#8F00FF">"No, you're a big one...you seem to like being able to see how your member is ruining and stretching that sleeve out of shape...it'll never recover from what you're doing, you know?"</span> Your cock throbs at that, you're marking this inanimate object forever in a way that only you can, and that turns you on.
You spend quite some time brutally trying to breed with a sex doll, to little response from your present lover. Niolesa, however, coos and encourages you the whole time. <span style="color:#8F00FF">"You're doing so well, you know?"</span> She uses 'you know?' a lot. <span style="color:#8F00FF">"You hit so deep...that dick was clearly made for a proper eldritch mate, you know? Maybe I can help you with that later..."</span> You pant and groan, rapidly pounding away.
<span style="color:#8F00FF">"Oooooh...getting close? Are you gonna fill this little unworthy toy to the brim? Would you do that for me? Pretty please?"</span> Your nuts tense, and you shudder profusely, but find you can't ejaculate yet. You can audibly hear Niolesa's hearts beating rapidly at that, as if it excites her. Growling somewhat, you double your efforts, even as you fail to reach orgasm once more.
You're sweating, and getting a little sore, but your hips won't stop moving, as you chase the inevitable finish line. <span style="color:#8F00FF">"Look in my eyes, big one, it's okay, you can let it all out."</span> You don't respond, but eventually, you throw your head back at another near-climax, inadvertently gazing into those deep pools of blue. You climax instantaneously, explosively, and noisily, howling like a degenerate animal.
<<set $NioPower to 2>>
You know in your heart of hearts that you ejaculate a comical amount as-is, but never enough to send a sex doll flying off of your member, which happens here. It noisily splats against a wall, as your semen stains the ceiling of the cave in the absence of its lover. Your heart skips a beat as you watch one of Niolesa's large fingers collect your ejaculate from where it lands, before she noisily slurps it up with an unseen mouth.
<span style="color:#8F00FF">"Tasty, and copious. You will be a perfect wellspring of potent, nasty void-stuff for me. But we'll get to that later, little guy. I'll reach out."</span> The shrouded woman says, and in that same instant you awake, painfully erect. It takes a time for it to pass, as you contemplate that bowl and coin idea she put forward.
[[Leave the library.|LeaveLibrarby1]]"Oh, sorry, I don't really want to make fuck with you." You say, poetically. There's a slight series of chuckles that eminate from Niolesa's form, but they fade. <span style="color:#8F00FF">"Do not worry, little guy. That isn't possible right now regardless. You have helped me greatly already, and should you change your mind, or otherwise desire to speak again...grab a bowl and some coins, and view my symbol."</span>
<<set $NioPower to 1>>
That's reasonable enough, and she took your declining of freaky Eldritch lovemaking rather well. She must not know what she's missing out on. After an utterly silent exchange between the two of you, you wake up at the library. You feel really quite well rested, that must happen from every Niolesa dream.
It's too late to really do much else in the library, but you do overhear those TTRPG players exchanging EXP, likely some secret number-code to summon monsters manually. You don't dwell on their forbidden knowledge too long, making sure to put Tathalan Beibelar's book back on its shelf. In a perfect world, you'd never have a dream interrupted by No-Name again.
[[Exit the library.|LeaveLibrarby1]]As you exit the tiny house of knowledge, you can see that it's now properly early evening, late-afternoon. The tidal wave of students move predominantly in the direction of their dorms and cars, and less toward the halls of knowledge. It'd likely be best to do that as well, and since you don't knowingly own a car, you head back to your dorm.
<<if $HilxUnwind or $HilxPhoto is true>>Hilx waves over at you slyly from behind his help desk, then motions you over. You approach, of course, and he smirks. "Sorry to say, big man, but I won't be available tonight...prior obligations I forgot about, you understand." That's saddening, but you can't really do anything about that. Prior obligations that you understand.<<elseif $HilxList is true>>Hilx smiles and shudders a little while looking at you walk by, kindly informing you, "I won't be //available// tonight, big guy. In case you wanted round two. Prior obligations, blah-blah-blah." The cat-boy does the universal hand-gesture of 'blah-blah-blah', then waves at you as you continue along. You nod and wave back at the same time to save time. At least that makes deciding what to do tonight a little easier.<<else>>Hilx waves at you politely, but seems to sigh somewhat as he looks down at his phone. You briefly ask what's wrong, and he laughs a little. "Just prior obligations I forgot were tonight, nothing worth dwelling on. I had this party I was going to, and everything." The help-desk twink sighs again, and wishes you a good evening.<</if>>
Heading up the stairs, you note that the hustle and bustle of students milling about has cut down immensely on your floor. <<if $KnowsParty or $PactSealed is true>>There's a party tonight that you know about, so, that's probably why.<<else>>Who can say for sure why, there can't always be an explanation for every little thing you hyperfixate on, after all.<</if>> With the lessened foot traffic, it's easy to reach your room. Lucky number 213.
The few dorm-livers that still walk the hall wave hello as you pass, and you wave back eagerly. Riobard the helpful elf, Glynn the dwarf tutor, and Lily the serious business major are among those still here, it seems. All very serious or down-to-earth people. It shocks you a little when Lily waves hello to you, she didn't really give off the impression of liking your existence when you first met her today. <<if $ShapeInterest is true>>She also stares at you for a little too long, for some reason or another, but just waves a second time to make up for it.<<elseif $ShapeFuck is true>>For some reason she shudders when looking at you for way too long, maybe she doesn't like you after all.<</if>>
Entering your room, you're unshocked to find Rozzwell laying on his bed, scrolling through his phone ever-so-slowly. He offers a simple wave at you, not really looking back to verify it's you he's waving at. The lights are on, so it's a simple matter to sit on your own bed. You decide against going through your phone like he is, since you're not eager to interface with ''THE INTERNET''.
Both of you exist like that for a time, until eventually, "Hey, bud." It's said very simply, as he briefly takes a break from his scrolling. "Hey, Rozz." You reply, staring at the door. Your heart is asking you what you want to do with the remaining time before slumber, and so is Rozzwell, in his own way. He doesn't seem to have any plans of his own tonight, really, so this isn't him trying to tempt you.
Well, what will you do with the evening?
<<if $QWRTYDate is true>>[[You need to get ready for a date with a silver-lady.|SilverDate0]]<<elseif $QWRTYTalk is true and $QWRTYDate !== true>>[[You could see if Quwertee wants to hang out tonight, she seems okay with talking to you.|SilverPreDate]]<<else>><span style="color:gray">If you had a date with a silver-girl, you'd probably attend it.</span><</if>>
<<if $PactSealed is true>>[[Sleanne invited you to a party tonight, prepare for that.|SleeParty0]]<<else>><span style="color:gray">If you had any plans with a green-gal, you might do that.</span><</if>>
<<if $SyllLunch is true>>[[You could go see Syllyvana, you know where she resides, after all.|SyllEve1]]<<elseif $SyllPhone is true and $SyllLunch !== true>>[[You could call up Syllyvana, see if she's free.|SyllEve-1]]<<else>><span style="color:gray">If you had a way to contact an elf-mage, you might do so.</span><</if>>
<<if $KnowsParty is true and $PactSealed !== true>>[[There's a party tonight that you've been told about, suit up for such an event.|RegParty0]]<<elseif $PactSealed is true and $KnowsParty is true>><span style="color:#B2FBA5">Sleanne's invite takes priority over some random person's invite to tonight's party.</span><<elseif $PactSealed is true and $KnowsParty !== true>><span style="color:#B2FBA5">You already know about the party, from Sleanne no less.</span><<else>><span style="color:gray">If you were in-the-know, maybe you could do something noisy tonight.</span><</if>>
[[Spend the evening with your roommate, you're both already here.|RozzEve0]]
<<if $QuestCompleted >= 1>><span style="color:#8F00FF">You can't reasonably find a bowl and coins this evening, fate won't ordain it.</span><</if>>You look through your clothes, remembering that Quwertee didn't want you to wear what you're currently wearing on your date. Unfortunately, every unit of clothes you own appears to be identical. That simply won't do, so you scratch your head. "Something wrong?" Rozzwell eventually asks, and you nod. "I've got a date with Quwertee, and nothing to wear to it."
Rozzwell looks at you like you're absolutely deranged, but his eyes quickly return to their tired state. "...Well...you could buy something, or just go like this..." When you seem to contemplate which of those to choose, Rozzwell sighs. "...How serious are you about this...that's an easy way to decide."
"I fully committed my evening to this date in specific, with at least one other option." You reply sagely. Rozzwell yawns a bit, before nodding. "Alright...remember to buy her a gift, and give me a minute..." The RA slowly gets up, putting his phone on his bed, before fishing around through his clothes. <<if $Swords >= 3>><span style="color:#FFFFC5">His phone's got some group chat open, but you can't really make any specifics out from this distance, just that there are pictures of some kind.</span><</if>>
When Rozzwell finally finishes his clothing fishing trip, he tosses a nice-looking black button-up shirt, black coat, and slick looking glasses onto your bed. He moves over and takes the glasses back. "...she'll probably break those if you wear them...but the rest should be good..." You thank him, but he just limply lays on his bed and goes back to scrolling on his phone, occasionally tapping.
A gift is next on your check-list, and since you only have so long before Quwertee knocks on your door, you move fast, leaving the nice clothes on your bed to wait for you. The help desk is ''empty'' when you need guidance most, so you must ask your questions to the campus map, eventually locating some strange campus store.
Very few people are in the store when you arrive, in fact it's just four people including you. There's an attractive, lanky girl stood behind the counter, scrolling her phone and typing away. Her nametag says 'Shayton'. She looks up as you enter, then returns to her digital refuge, chewing on some blue gum. It takes a bit of looking, but you decide on roses instead of a snowglobe or quirky bumper sticker.
The counter-girl waits as you bring the flowers to her, and you wait, until she has to eventually clear her throat, and explain. "You have to, like, pay, man...like with a card, or money, y'know..?" She seems a lot more curious about you now, but you reflexively bring a plastic card from your wallet, and hand it to her. She awkwardly turns some piece of payment equipment to face her, and pays for you using your card, before eventually handing it back to you.
There's no time to look too hard at Shayton, you have to get back to your dorm in time to change! Running with very pretty red roses, you shoulder-slam past the front door of your dorm, only hurting yourself a little in the process. Some //other-floor// athlete claps as he sees you sprinting up the stairs in record-time, cheering you on. The love of your fans drives you onward, as you re-enter your room, and hurry into your borrowed clothes.
[[Knock Knock.|SilverDate1]]Sleanne's expecting you to join her at a party, and you'd hate to disappoint the stacked goblin girl. You vividly recall that she stated you should wear something other than your current attire, so you spend a small chunk of time going through your clothes. When it becomes readily apparent that the only clothing you own is exact duplicates of your current attire, you start getting desperate. Rozzwell looks over at you somewhat confused.
"...You alright, man?" He asks, and you shake your head. "I need clothes for a party." You say, and Rozz chuckles quietly. "Don't be so nervous about it...people aren't gonna care what you wear." He says, but Sleanne clearly cares, so you shake your head once more. "Sleanne says I-" And Rozzwell sighs loudly. "...right. Alright. Dig through my clothes, you'll find something."
You thank him, but Rozzwell just scrolls through his phone silently. It takes a bit of digging, but you eventually find a cool looking coat and button-up shirt, both black in coloration. Your pants are actually the best dressed part of you, so you keep them as-is. Stored inside of the coat seems to be a pair of swanky tinted glasses, with circular lenses. You absolutely need to wear those tonight.
You take the clothes and scurry into the distant bathrooms to change, briefly pausing to listen to some dude on his phone. He's positively sorrowful about his first day, and seems to be getting verbal reassuring from some loved one or another. That's sweet. You don't have a loved one to phone.
Now fully party-ready, you put your pre-party clothes into your room, waving bye to Rozzwell. He offers a limp wave back, and wishes you good luck. It takes very little time to walk over to Sleanne's room, 208. You can smell the ambient perfume even from here, and you have to collect yourself before knocking. Your very first party.
[[Knockity knockity.|SleeParty1]]And so it is that you set off into the cool evening air, looking around for the specific fratrority house that the elf-girl waits within. You cut this epic journey short by checking your handy dandy map, and clap profusely when you see that ZZZ is nicely labeled. It takes a moment to fold the map after your victory clapping, but that is but a momentary pause in the face of a greater goal.
You pass by a wide variety of buildings on your way over. Who knew that there was a strange cramped novelty shop-thing on campus? Your map did, probably, but now so do you! You decide against losing yourself in the wild world of novelty, keenly focused on your treck. Some group of students wearing theater masks pass you by, before pausing and turning to face you proper. Uh.
//"Heyyyy, look! He looks lost, don't ya agree?"// Asks one, dressed in a black hoodie, she grips a baseball bat previously used as a walking stick. Each of them have one of those. Does this campus not have security, or something? You look around, consider your options, then indeed hurry into that novelty shop-thing after all. Fate is a funny thing.
You look at the lanky woman behind the counter, panicked, and plead with her, "Please give me a cartoon mascot made of paper, filled with candy, there's some masked people with bats outside, and I think they're going to hit me." Her nametag says 'Shayton' on it, in big cartoonish letters. Shayton looked tired when you entered, a bit mentally absent, but your absurdist request snaps her right back to attention.
"I...huh?" She asks, looking outside through a window, then back at you. Shayton rubs her temples, then nods slowly. "We don't sell piñatas, sorry...but, uh...you're welcome to wait inside, if you're afraid for your safety." Shayton offers a very reassuring customer-service-required smile, then looks down at her phone. You look out of the window, and to your surprise, there's no-one out there. Freaky. You wait a few minutes just to be safe, and look at cute snowglobes of the campus for morale.
You have no idea what that was about, people don't just imagine that sort of thing...Unable to see or hear them outside, you continue heading over to 3Z, a little more on-edge. There are shadows that are too long, occasional shapes in windows, but no more masked figures with bats. Soon enough, your paranoia can pause, as you see a grand lawn with nothing decorating it. Beyond that lawn stands a great big building, Zeta Zeta Zeta's Fratrority House.
[[Knockity Knockity.|SyllEve1]]You're not really sure how to dress for a party, and sifting through your seemingly endless identical outfits is no help. Rozzwell seems to look over at you from his bed as you sift and sort, occasionally tapping or scrolling at his phone. "...looking for something, man?" He eventually asks, and you nod rapidly. "I need to get ready for the big party tonight."
He chuckles at that, and then shakes his head. "...what you're wearing's fine, this isn't dinner with someone's parents..." You look up and down at yourself, scratch your head, and shrug. "If you say so." You say, and he nods. "...just take it easy, man, you'll be alright...bring a condom or something if you're trying to score..." Your RA sagely suggests, and you blink a few times.
Exiting your room, you're starting to realize you have absolutely no idea how to get to the actual location of the party. None of the people still at the dorm would know, they're not //party-ready// like you are, so there's only one real option. You awkwardly enter your room again, and ask Rozz if he knows how to get to the party. He looks at you again, and nods.
"...old train tracks, a welcome party for all the newbies...they do this every year. You have a car?" He asks, and when you have no answer to that, he chuckles again. "Alright. I guess I'll drive you...but...I'm not staying long..." That works. The two of you walk down the stairs, to the lobby, and continue pretty far across campus. Rozzwell's eternal slouch is empowered by his hands being in his pockets as he strolls.
It's extremely quiet between the two of you, since you usually just talk reactively rather than actively, and Rozzwell's not the most willing conversationalist. The silence is broken, finally, as the black-haired fellow leads you around the corner of a building, to a beat-up looking car. It's red in coloration, and you're not convinced it'll start, even as Rozzwell opens the passenger's door for you.
"Why's your car so far away?" You ask, copying his buckling of a seatbelt. Rozzwell doesn't respond for a bit, offering gentle reassurances to his 'baby girl' while the engine loudly sputters and struggles. Eventually, his prayers are answered, as the car roars to life noisily. "...car thieves, showed up near the end of last year. Mostly hit the dorms..." He finally answers, while adjusting his mirrors.
When the car properly starts moving, punk-rock music begins to blare, as if on cue. ''I'M IN LOVE WITH MY BEST FRIEND - AND IT HURTS IN THE BEST DAMN WAY - I WOULD DO WHATEVER IT TAKES - TO MAKE YOU STAY, MAKE YOU STAY, MAKE YOU STAY.'' He skips that track after it reaches that point, to a more down-to-earth song about society, or something.
He smiles, just barely, at the music playing, and it's really quite the sight to behold. It's good music, but not something you would personally smile at hearing. Rozzwell drives far beyond the campus grounds, beyond the great fence that surrounds it, and further still. Eventually, you seem to arrive.
[[Commence unbuckle.|RegParty1]]"...Any plans for the night?" You eventually ask your roommate, and that brings a slight smile to his face. "You asking that tells me that you either have terrible taste, or nothing better to do..." Rozzwell says, before grabbing a black coat from his desk and putting it on. He zips up, and motions for you to follow him. "...but, since you asked, yeah...I'm gonna drive around a while, take in the calm before the storm of the school year."
"...if you genuinely have nothing else to do, then, you can ride along..." Rozz produces and plays with his keys, jingling them around somewhat as he lurks by the door like a shadow. You nod, get up, and join him. Soon you're both headed down the stairs, in an unstoppable silence. Several more twists and turns outside of the building lead you to the Rozzmobile, a beaten up and old looking thing that smells like campfire. You mimic his buckling up, and listen as he talks sweet nothings to his car to tempt it into running.
It seems to work, as the red vehicle roars to life with several plumes of multicolor crystal-smog. "...this is gonna be really depressing if neither of us say anything the whole time." He says while backing out of the alleyway, perhaps his form of breaking the silence. Your response is interrupted by extremely noisy punk-noise blaring from the CD player, which Rozzwell is quick to silence with a weak chuckle. "Heh..."
He drives smoothly and confidently, despite his distant demeanor, gliding around the campus for a time as he peers out of the window at the various fratrorities with their respective start-of-year parties. "...Man, think of all the new-pledges that think it's just parties..." The black-haired fellow says while the two of you drive slowly past what looks to be Beta Alpha Delta, a house consumed in a rager of monstrous proportions.
"Well, I guess there's cleaning up after." You reply, and Rozz nods very slowly as he continues driving. "...the BADs mostly have their shit together, a lot less...false advertising than some others. At least these days...but cleaning up is definitely something no-one tells you going in." He slows down outside of each of the fratrorities, ZZZ, BAD, XOX, KEK, AKT, though he offers less comments on his own.
"Is this taking in the calm, or just looking at what the big houses on campus are up to tonight?" You ask, genuinely curious. Rozzwell smiles very slightly. "It helps to keep an eye out...see what there is to see...if anyone tells you the opposite, they're hiding something from you." That wasn't exactly in the bounds of the two options you gave him, but it works. "Did you see anything tonight from all this driving?"
He nods. "...a few things. Nothing important, but it's a college campus...the most interesting thing is gonna be someone high on drugs they shouldn't have..." Soon enough, in total quiet, the two of you seem to take several turns, going beyond the fence that surrounds campus, into the evening. "...first day go by fine?" He randomly asks, and you think before nodding.
[[Away from campus.|RozzEve1]]Someone's knocking on the door, and there's only one real possible person at this time. Looking your First-Day Best, and gripping your purchased roses, you open the door. Just as predicted, it's Quwertee, who seems briefly taken aback by your attire. "Huh, I figured you'd just throw on like a jacket or something." She says, gaze freezing solid on the roses as you awkwardly hold them out at her.
Quwertee's presently wearing a red leather jacket, and some deep black t-shirt in which a crow is holding a sword with its feet. She must like birds, this is not the first bird-based shirt you've seen on her today. Her wig's been changed out for a straight-haired thing with bangs, just as green as her prior choice. The silver-babe just takes the roses from you, and as you wave bye to Rozzwell, he shrugs.
"I'm not carrying these the whole time, you weirdo." She says, throwing open her door, and hurling the flowers onto her bed forcefully. With that taken care of, she starts walking toward the elevator. "Where did you wanna go tonight?" You ask, but Quwertee just noisily pries the clearly out of order elevator shaft open while Lily watches on in horror. "Wherever the fun is. Any of the fratrorities should be good to crash, are you in?"
You've come this far, so you nod. She grabs you with one hand, around your wrist, and yanks you into the elevator shaft as she leaps into it. Your heart races even in the relative darkness, because you know you're falling rapidly, but then there are the sparks of metal on metal, and a dreadful racket akin to a zipper from hell. It strikes you, partially able to see it happening, that Quwertee appears to be sliding down the elevator cable with one hand like a fucking lunatic.
"Keep your feet high, if I don't land first, you're gonna need more than a doctor." She says matter-of-factly, laughing a little at the thrill. This shaft is way deeper than it has any right to be, and you quickly realize that you've long gone beyond the ground floor. With a loud, noisy ''THUD,'' Quwertee lands, and she swiftly helps you land in such a way as to not lose both of your legs. Rubbing her hands together rapidly, and blowing as if she were kindling a flame, a spark of warbling electricity appears from her fingertips.
At first it's rather small, then as big as a fist, producing quite a bit of light. You're in some strange dank tunnel system beneath the campus, and you can clearly see that the elevator shaft seems to be broken wide open at the bottom. The elevator proper is splayed around, here and there, only really noticeable because it's still connected to the elevator cable you rode here on. "C'mon, keep up." Quwertee says, quickly outpacing you.
[[Keep up with your date in this strange place.|SilverDate2]]The tunnels beneath campus are not particularly complex, they're dug purposefully, and tiled with care. The amount of dust tells you that this was likely some old construction project, maybe built on top of by the current campus, or added on in-post. "Looking around, huh? Yeah, it is pretty cool the first time." Quwertee takes a sharp turn, and you can faintly hear music above you.
"What even is all of this?" You ask, keeping a close eye on your date's petite form, especially when she has to climb onto something to progress. You swear you can see her looking over her shoulder at you occasionally, with a smug expression. She definitely knows that she's rocking that outfit, and doesn't seem very upset by your blatant staring.
"There's a lot of this stuff under Millerfield, but you're staring at something else, loser-boy." Quwertee says, tossing a stone at you. It smacks against your chest, and she chuckles. "...ruins, I guess? I fell into them the first time I used the elevator, but in my defense the guy was begging to get suplexed." You ask her about that, and she grins ear to ear while hopping over some rubble. "You like hearing about my //great conquests// in //honorable battle,// boy?" She asks, putting a mocking emphasis here and there.
You nod rapidly, and she rolls her eyes, pointing at a rather intact looking wooden ladder. Someone had to put that there recently. "He deserved it, that's what matters. And as a bonus, you're one of like three people that know these tunnels exist now." She stops in front of the ladder, and seems to think. The two of you exchange a glance, then she chuckles a bit, and starts climbing.
You don't really understand the density or weight situation with Quwertee, but the ladder does bend a bit beneath her despite her petite frame. You try your best to support her, but you only really manage to keep the ladder still for her. "I was sure you'd just stare at my ass." She says, watching as you climb up after her. The music's louder now, and you can see a giant pile of leaves further ahead.
"Race ya." Quwertee says. When you agree, she's fast to trip you. She takes off rapidly, obviously beating you after cheating, but you're not a sore loser. In mock-victory, she stretches her hands behind her head, beaming. "Better luck next time, huh?" The statue-woman says, pointing to the leaves, then above them, where you can see small bits of sunset.
"Right next to the BAD's front lawn, it used to be beneath a big rock, but I moved it." She seems to take pride in that, which makes you wonder why she even thought to move that rock in particular. "If you're game to crash ''these'' dicks, I'll forgive you for giving me those stupid flowers." Quwertee crouches and crawls, and since you like seeing, you follow her. Closely. Since you also like seeing her crawling in her punk-rock skirt.
[[Exit the tunnels.|SilverDate3]]Crawling turns to close-quarters climbing, in which hands brush against each other. Quwertee feels //warm// right now, which is strange given she's made of metal. "You're warm." You state, as the two of you slowly climb out of a hole once-covered by rock. Breaching into the lawn of the BADs, you breathe a huge breath of fresh evening air. Quwertee looks over at you with a slight grimace when she dwells on what you said, before shaking it off, and pointing at the beautiful mansion not too far from the two of you.
"That's where the party's at," She says, as you take in the crazy multi-colored lights that pour from each massive window of the fratrority house before you. "...and when I said 'crash' their party, I meant it in the same way you'd crash a computer. We aren't here to drink with these fucks." Quwertee feels cold now, and she smacks your hand away from obviously feeling her body heat.
The construct-girl motions at you to follow her, as you both rapidly shuffle toward the side of the huge building. "They'll recognize me. Which means you get to sneak in and plug this in." Quwertee produces an extension cord, rolled up, from her swanky red jacket. You raise an eyebrow, but nod. "Then lead the cable through a window, to me. Also." She puts a hand on your shoulder, tightening her grip rapidly.
"If you get distracted from the mission, I'll start throwing rocks. So stay on track, got it?" You don't know for sure how rocks will keep you on track, but you nod, since it hurts to be grabbed by Quwertee. Then, your date just sits patiently against a wall. This leaves you to be the brains of the operation, while she is the cord-giver, an equally valuable position on the team.
How are you gonna do this?
[[Talk my way in through the front door.|BADCoin0]]
[[Climb to an open window.|BADSwords0]]
[[Use your IMAGINATION.|BADWands0]]
[[Look around the outside for cosmic providence.|BADCups0]]Inhale, exhale, prepare yourself to enter her domain. You shuffle out of your room with a simple 'see ya later' to Rozzwell, and knock on a familiar door. It opens pretty quickly, revealing the beautiful silver-statue-girl herself, in the same curled wig she was wearing when you first met. She looks you up and down, then waits. When you don't say anything, she sighs in annoyance.
"What?" She asks, to which you reply, "Are you doing anything tonight?" That seems to catch her off-guard, and she quickly assumes a defensive position, ready to verbally counter-attack anything you can offer. "Why are you asking, //exactly//?" Even though you have a hard time fully understanding tone, you know that she's trying to determine if you're asking her on a date. You also know her response would probably be the same if you weren't asking her on a date, so...
"I want to spend the evening with you, wherever you wanna go, like a date." You say, body getting ready to be shoved or punched. When that doesn't happen, and instead Quwertee snorts, you know that you're in. "Forward, but compromising. I like that in a loser asking me on a date. Alright, whatever. You have an hour to dress in something other than //that.// And I'm not knocking more than once."
You smile, and your hands get a little shakeful in anticipation for your first date, but Quwertee just rolls her eyes, and taps her wrist a few times to tell you to hurry up. <<if $Coin >= 4>><span style="color:#B2FBA5">She's making you leave immediately, because your first-date excitement was too much for her to handle. Whatever that means. </span><</if>>You walk away, back to your room, to sift through your clothes for something other than what you're wearing now.
[[Enter room.|SilverDate0]]You whip out your phone, and slowly look through your contacts. It isn't a very long list, but it has Syllyvana's number on it, so that has to count for something. You give the elf a call, and wait. One ring. Two rings. //"Hello?"// You hear eminate from your phone, and Rozzwell raises an eyebrow. He keeps whatever he's thinking to himself, looking busy swiping at his own phone. "Hi, Syllyvana...it's $name. Are you busy tonight? I was hoping to spend the evening together."
Your phrasing is vague, purposefully so, since Syllyvana definitely isn't the sort to- //"Your phrasing is vague...Intentionally so. I'm going to purposefully assume this isn't a date-request, yes, you can come over. I would welcome the distraction, even."// She states, causing you to blink a few times. People aren't allowed to interrupt narration like that. "Uh. Yeah. Cool." You say, nodding to no-one.
<<if $SyllAff >= 2>>//"...Okay. Please meet me at Zeta Zeta Zeta. It's a rather large building, with an immensely well-kept lawn."//<<else>>//"...Hm. Okay. I will be at Zeta Zeta Zeta, there's no decorations on the lawn, unlike the other fratorities. See you."//<</if>> Her tone was curious and calculating, but you probably shouldn't expect anything less from her. After a simple 'goodbye', she hangs up. You contemplate asking Rozzwell for a ride, but he's probably busy with his phone, so instead you wave to him.
He waves back, and you head out. To your impromptu evening with that pretty elf-girl.
[[Wander campus until I find ZZZ.|SyllEve0]]You look to Quwertee, briefly taking in how pretty she looks in the setting sun, then quickly walk away when she looks back at you impatiently. The front is easy enough to find, it's where a ''lot'' of fratrority members, in their cool jackets, are drinking and sitting and laughing. A few of them look at you, up and down, and one of them stands as you reach the front door.
This fellow is not wearing a shirt under his jacket, which is especially insane in Millerfield, given its cold weather. "Hey, man!" He exclaims at you, clearly somewhat inebriated, but still fulfilling some assigned task of his. "Do you have the right house?" He asks, giving you an out, whether purposefully is hard to tell. He doesn't look the most socially aware.
<<if $Coin >= 3>>"Hey, bro!" You exclaim back, trying to match his energy. It brings a smile to his face immediately, and he raises his hand. You give him the high five he clearly yearns for, and you both laugh. He looks at your very nice attire, and squints somewhat. "You aren't one of those preps, are you?" This man clearly doesn't hold high opinion of the 'prep' people, so you once more try to match his energy.
"Nah, fuck the preps! I'm just wearing this to," You think for a moment about what happens in parties, then laugh a frat-bro laugh again. "pick up some chicks, ya'know? Chicks dig black clothes. I heard this was ''the'' place to party." The shirtless guy nods in agreement, then rubs his chin, seeming to try to weigh your words carefully, before shrugging.
"Go on in, man! And if you see my buddy, the president, tell him you're BAD material. D-man approved. You remind me of him a little, actually, back when things were crazy." He steps out of your way, and sits back down with his frat-brothers and their flings for the night. An endearingly high-energy man, that guy. Pushing past the doors, you're briefly overwhelmed by music and the strong smells of booze.
You don't need Quwertee to start throwing rocks, so you resist the latent itch to dig deeper into this place, and steadily make your way to a bathroom. Bathrooms are great, because they have both outlets //and// windows, apparently. You retrieve the cord from your pockets, amazed that no-one noticed the comical bulging going on there, before plugging it in. You throw the rest of the cord out of the window, and look down. Quwertee nods up at you with some kind of respect, then taps her wrist. Hurry up.
Bumping past a girl that looks faintly similar to the door-man, stepping beyond the curious gaze of a flexible opportunist, and skillfully avoiding the president of this place as he waves to you, you exit. Soon enough, you return to Quwertee, who's actively radiating warmth while grinning dangerously. "Good job. Now for the easy part."
[[Now for the easy part.|BADSuccess]]<<else>>"Yessir, this is the B-A-D House, which I am after." You reply, and the inebriated man raises an eyebrow. Then his eyes lingers on your nice clothes. "...Are you a prep?" He asks, clearly already expecting a certain answer. You shake your head. "No, I hardly know the meaning of the word."
He blinks a few times, rubs his chin, and looks to the others sitting near. Most of them are busy with their drinking and merry-making, but a blonde girl sitting on someone's lap seems to look at you as well. "He's no prep, but he definitely isn't one of you guys." She offers, and that seems to be in agreement with what the door-man is thinking.
"Sorry, bro, I don't think I can just let you in. The other Houses get a little pissy at the start of the year, they like to fling shit." That makes the blonde laugh in her fake cheerleader attire. "Like you guys never flung shit?" But the door-man ignores her to the best of his minimal ability to ignore someone. You frown, and raise your coat and shirt off of your body, to try to match this young man's passion for being shirtless.
That on its own isn't enough, even though it does draw a few whistles from the ladies sitting outside. When you grab some brand beer from a nearby cooler out of desperation, and chug it rapidly to the cheers of some of the others outside, his expression softens. "Well, you definitely don't talk like a BAD, but I think you pass the vibe check." He says, quickly looking into your eyes to scan for deception, still hesitant.
"Just don't make me regret letting you in, man." He eventually says, while you put your clothes back on. That was a form of success, but knowing this guy actively went against his better judgement for you is gonna make whatever comes next feel stranger. You enter the grand party house itself, keeping your willpower close at hand to avoid drinking and dancing and poorly singing.
You watch an attractive girl walking by in a similar fake cheerleader outfit, and remember the fourth thing you should avoid getting distracted by. To save your immortal soul from flung rocks, you hurry to a bathroom. By happenstance, there's an outlet and window there, which works nicely. A few people gave you looks on the way, since you obviously have something bulging in a pocket, but they'll likely be too drunk to remember that tomorrow.
You plug in the extension cord, and throw the rest of it out of the window. Quwertee looks up at you, and gives a simple thumbs-up. You hurry back outside, bumping into what you assume to be the president of this place. "Hey, are you enjoying the party?" He asks, seeming a bit stressed. You nod rapidly, but he somehow doesn't pick up on your extremely sketchy behavior, just smiling in response, and continuing on to the next party-goer.
<<set $BADFail to true>>
Making it outside, you hurry back to Quwertee, who laughs a bit. "Have a hard time with the bozo at the door?" She asks, and you nod gently. "Yeah, well, he's an idiot, but since you don't have tits, I can see why he didn't just let you in." You avoid snapping back about her own lack of tits. That whole mission worked you up a bit, crashing parties is stressful.
[[Give witness to the crashing of the century.|BADSuccess]]<</if>>You've never had to scale a building before in any capacity, so this should be interesting. High above you seems to be an open window, and if you could make it to there, there'd be no need to be seen at all. You glance around, and find a tree to climb up. Starting higher up would be ideal. It's simple enough to climb up the tree, from there? You'll have to see...
<<if $Swords >= 3>>You've already scaled the mighty tree, and quickly make your way to a sturdy seeming branch, thick in nature. A high jump should get you to the window, but since there's a non-zero chance the branch will come tumbling down, you warn Quwertee. She blinks a few times, then grins ear-to-ear. You feel warmth coming from her, even from here. "That's the first cool thing you've ever said." She states.
You inhale deeply, find your center, then leap powerfully to the open window. It's higher than you thought, but instead of falling noisily, you manage to grip onto the window sill with a hand. You avoid looking down, panting somewhat as you steady yourself by gripping your other hand onto the support. It takes some doing, but you pull yourself into the open window.
You stop dead in your tracks when you see a sleeping naked woman sprawled out on a bed. Now is not the time for celebration, now is the time to tip-toe to the nearest power outlet. You unplug a cool looking lava lamp, and plug your borrowed extension cord in its place. You're quickly realizing you have no idea how to get out now, and making a cartoonish sheet rope isn't gonna work with this pretty woman sleeping on the sheets.
Peering down at Quwertee, your concern is evident, and she laughs into her hand to muffle the noise. Then, she holds both arms out. She intends to catch you. First you toss the length of the cord out to her, then, with a deep breath, you hurl your body out of the window, with far too much force. Quwertee laughs again, sprinting to your new destination, and ultimately catching you so you don't break your ribs on tree roots.
"Damn good job, man. I never would've thought about the branches, plus, they woulda turned to splinters under me." She hefts you a few times, and spins in a circle, before setting you down when she realizes what she's doing. Her grasp was actively hot before she caught on. Without a word, the silver statue heads over to the hanging cord, and grabs onto it.
[[Bear witness.|BADSuccess]]<<else>>The tree was easy, even if the branches sway under you here and there. You're definitely not making it to the window from the tree itself, though, you'll need to jump. With a shaky breath, you hurl your body off of the tree, toward the window, and nearly make it. It's higher than you thought, however, and you can't grab the window sill fast enough. You plummet rapidly, but Quwertee catches you with minimal effort.
"Decent idea, absolutely ass execution." She says, walking away from the window for many steps while holding you. Her gorgeous eyes squint for a moment at the window, and you can faintly hear her counting. "...Alright, don't scream." She says suddenly, before hurling you like a sportball. She has to two-hand throw you, given you're a hell of a lot more unwieldy than a ball.
You manage to hold your scream of fear and excitement in as you go flying through the air at odd angles, noisily thudding onto the floor of the room you tried to jump into. There's the sound of movement, and a naked woman is looking at you confused from a bed, quickly covering herself with blankets. You wave hello, but stop your introduction in its tracks given the circumstances.
<<set $BADFail to true>>
"Who- What-" She begins, but you hear Quwertee shouting up at you to hurry it up. You plug in the extension cord, give the horrified girl a salute, and jump out of the window backwards with the rest of the cord in your hand. You feel like a cool guy, even when Quwertee catches you and spins you around like some prize she's won. You untangle your body from the cord after being spun around in it. "Alright, we don't have long, get ready to run." She says, laughing as she sets you down.
[[Get ready to run.|BADSuccess]]<</if>>//Whiiiiiirrrrrr//. Click. Click. Click. Vrrr-vrr-vrrr. Your ''IMAGINATION'' is all heated up and ready to go. You view this place through a new, different angle, hoping to find some path in that way. You tip-tap your chin a few times, and blow smoke from your imaginary pipe, while doing your basic detective work. Quwertee looks at you like you're positively insane.
<<if $Wands >= 3>>If you had a ladder, you could make it into some open window, or to the roof, and dance along the power lines like some kind of esoteric monk. There's not nearly enough hot glue and twigs laying around to make your own ladder, so you start pacing around the large building, until finally your eyes hyperfixate on it: a shed.
This shed is in lovely condition, but it's far from big enough to contain the tall metal friend you find there. It's a little unwieldy, but you manage well enough to bring the ladder over to Quwertee. She stands there akin to a star-struck vigil, meant to bear witness, but never anticipating the ladder you brought to solve her riddles three. You carefully set it down against the nearest wall, and begin to scale.
There's music as you climb, and people getting drunk, dancing, save for in the window you stop by. In this window, two people are coupling together in the ancient art of lovemaking, too distracted with another to notice the scholarly ladder-lad behind their window. It's closed, but your fathomless ''IMAGINATION'' allows the comical lock someone's put on the outside of this window to come into focus.
Firstly, someone's probably pried open this window in specific before, otherwise they're just hiding something //important// in this locked room. Secondly, you could just take a rock and smash your way in, but you're not some rock-man, you're an imaginationer. Thirdly, you saw some variety of potted plants nearby that did ''not'' fit in to the vibe of this place at all. You scale down to them, and dig around for your grand prize.
It's the fourth pot that holds a key, and as you climb back up, you know in your heart that this is the key for this lock. You insert and twist, similarly to the lovemaking happening within, probably. Quietly as you can manage, you open the window, and plug the extension cord into a thankfully nearby outlet. Then you gently lower yourself down the ladder, and offer the cord to Quwertee, who just blinks a few times at all that just went down.
"That was pretty smart, the ladder. But I'll never fucking understand how you knew to check some random flower pots." She says, and her heavenly mean-girl voice and attitude draw you back to reality, away from the distant shores of your ''IMAGINATION''. Your iconic detective pipe is gone, and everything is worse because of that fact.
[[Hand the cord to your date.|BADSuccess]]<<else>>If you had a ladder, you could make it into some open window, or to the roof, and dance along the power lines like some kind of esoteric monk. There's not nearly enough hot glue and twigs laying around to make your own ladder, so you start pacing around the large building, until finally your eyes hyperfixate on it: a shed.
This shed is in lovely condition, but it's far from big enough to contain the tall metal friend you find there. It's a little unwieldy, but you manage well enough to bring the ladder over to Quwertee. She stands there akin to a star-struck vigil, meant to bear witness, but never anticipating the ladder you brought to solve her riddles three. You carefully set it down against the nearest wall, and begin to scale.
There's music as you climb, and people getting drunk, dancing, save for in the window you stop by. In this window, two people are coupling together in the ancient art of lovemaking, too distracted with another to notice the scholarly ladder-lad behind their window. You then notice the comical lock on the outside of the window. Hm.
That's troublesome, and you don't really know how to pick locks, nor do you have the tools to do so. You look around like a psychopath, and feel along the window for the key's secret hiding place, but come up short. You're drawn out of your imaginated detective mode by Quwertee talking up at you. "Move your head."
<<set $BADFail to true>>
You do so, and a rock flies past you, crashing through the window noisily, much to the shock of the lovers inside. They look at you, and the more masculine of the two stumbles over toward you, but he's far, far too inebriated to make it there. You're drawn out of your thoughts by a second rock being thrown, and Quwertee shouting for you to, "Hurry it up."
You look within the room, and find an outlet comically close to the window. The cord's plugged in, and you eagerly descend the ladder. Quwertee plucks the length of cord from your hands as you land, and smirks. "Ladder was a good idea. Now the fun part." There's a certain sharpness when she says that.
[[Watch the fun part.|BADSuccess]]<</if>>Open your brain to the sexy cosmos' guiding light, brotherman. It has not and never will lead you astray with strange false advertising. With the sun setting like it is, you spread your fingers out and allow it to guide you. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Close your eyes, and listen to the oldest ally.
<<if $Cups >= 3>>There's a horrible shock that hits you just around the crown of your head. You witness the empty cosmos, spinning as it is, and the sun gazing longingly at it all. Oh, to return to nothing, or to force all nothing to be something, much as you were made to do. In many, many long years yet, the sun may get its wish to become as dust, but in the meantime, its gaze turns towards you. The Sun Has No Eyes, But Many Arms.
You open your eyes, not existentially horrified by whatever you just imagined in your brain-case. You notice that there looks to be a lengthy series of steps on the grass around you, like a dance routine, highlighted in the red-orange glows of the sunset. Like any performer given adequate direction, you step accordingly.
Quwertee looks immensely confused, but decides to just see where this is going, as you dip and bow and leap at seemingly random intervals. Sweat is forming on your brow as you bend and twist mid-air at times, failure is not an option now, despite what your bad leg is telling you.
Your movements bring you to a ground-level window, and you duck and weave just as someone opens it to let some air in. You roll, and leap anew, before skillfully landing through the now-opened window. The thud of your landing is ignored, as someone loudly laughs in another room at the same instant. Dusting yourself off, you inhale deeply, and bow your head in appreciation for the guidance you've been given tonight.
The glowing guidance fades, as you just gently take the extension cord out and plug it in. This seems to be a kitchen, on a different part of the building than the proper party is happening at, so foot-traffic is //just// sparse enough. Lucky you.
After exiting with slightly less grace, you head over to Quwertee with the length of cord, and hand it to her. She nods, and pats your shoulder a few times. "That was goofy as hell, but I'm not gonna argue with results right now." She offers, clutching the cord tightly, a smile overtaking her beautiful face. "Ready for some fireworks?" She asks, and you nod.
[[Indeed you are.|BADSuccess]]<<else>>The sun is ancient, and deep, and its many-rays have always guided those that need to eat or see. Even in its setting form, you know it holds great wisdom, you need only listen. The music of the cosmos is dizzying and confusing, blaring horns of heat-death-this, and star-stuff-that. When you open your eyes anew, you feel mystified, but try your best.
<<set $BADFail to true>>
You walk over to the front door, and just step past the shirtless guy who tries to stop you. He looks just as confused as you are, but he obviously hops up and follows you inside, repeatedly trying to get your attention. You can't be stopped, it's far too late, as you head up some stairs, beyond crowds of people having the drunkest time of their lives. "Hey! Asshole, stop, you aren't supposed to just-" He shouts, but you've already closed another door between you and him.
Someone nervous would hide, but you just keep making distance, eventually ending up in some emptier portion of this place, in which a kitchen stands. You bump past a fellow who looks very confused to see you here, and by the time the shirtless door-man reaches the kitchen, you've long since jumped out of the window with the cord plugged in.
You hurry over to Quwertee as the shirtless man tries to leap out of the window after you. That guy you bumped into seems to stop him, calmly asking what the hell that was all about. Since there's a very good chance someone will just unplug that cord, you hand it to Quwertee without a moment's pause. She nods, and smiles wide. "You're lucky most of them are drunk or having sex right now, what you did was like punching a hornet's nest."
[[Watch as she clutches the cord.|BADSuccess]]<</if>>With the cord held in her hand, Quwertee focuses for but a moment. There's a slight spark that comes from her hand, before you hear a series of loud popping noises, and shattering glass. The interior of the house is engulfed in darkness rapidly, and soon enough you hear a sprinkler system going off. The sound systems within seem to be gurgling and warbling with strange static and interference, eventually blaring obnoxiously loud opera music.
Quwertee releases the cord, which seems to have melted somewhat in her grasp. She spreads her arms out and bathes in the confused screams and music that blares behind her with a very satisfied smile. She doesn't bask long, however, since people are starting to rush out of the big building through whatever method they can find. The silver-girl looks at you and giggles giddily, gripping your wrist, and hurrying away from this place.
Rather than going back into the rubble-filled tunnels you emerged from, Quwertee leads you to a nearby campus restaurant, not yet closed. "That was-" You begin, but she tightens her grip on your wrist, shaking her head. "Shh." She says simply, rudely brushing past the waitress trying to seat you, to just seat the two of you herself. A nice booth by a window, facing the darkened manor of the BADs.
Quwertee leans back in her seat like a menace, propping her punk-boots up onto the table, and gazing over at you. "No-one can know the specifics." She offers, before loudly shouting at the waitress, ''"CAN WE GET SOME SERVICE ALREADY, JESUS, I'M ON A DATE WITH SOMEONE HERE!"'' She used the date-word, even though it's probably for an alibi, it does make you feel a little fuzzy inside.
The disgruntled waitress hands you menus, and begins to walk off, only to be stopped once more. "Hey, hey! You're meant to get our //drinks// first, lady. I want lemonade, and so does my date." Quwertee stares daggers at the waitress, who clearly just wants to go home for the night. Once the waitress is gone, she chuckles. "Ahh, you can //always// count on these places to remember and talk about shitty customers. We're in the clear, blame-wise."
You mention that there's a non-zero chance that someone could've seen either of you skulking around, and Quwertee rolls her eyes. Adjusting, she lays on her stomach, and plays with an outlet by the ground. You watch as the lights flicker for a moment, hearing vague sounds of struggling concentration from Quwertee's part. When she comes back up, the lights have stopped flickering. "There. I set the time on every screen in this place back about...ten minutes."
That's a neat trick, and you tell her as much. Something resembling a smirk overtakes her face, before she crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. "Duh. I had to practice a ''lot'' to get it right. It was easier, since I'm...y'know." She says, motioning at her beautiful body. Your eyes linger a bit on her midriff, does every shirt she owns expose it like that?
"...beautiful." You say, and she scoffs. "No, metal. Are you really this easily distracted by everyone hotter than you?" Quwertee asks, before answering her own question, "No, because then you'd have gotten ''really'' distracted at that party...this is just //me,// isn't it. You have a thing for metal girls?" She asks you while not-so-subtly stretching out.
"You're the first metal person I've met, or heard of." You reply, truthfully. "Well, keep it in your pants, //buddy,// I'm not some fetish for you to check off your list." Quwertee sits up properly now, producing exactly one notecard from her pockets, and looking it over. She steeples her fingers, and waves the waitress away after she places down the lemonade.
[[Bear witness to whatever this is.|NoteCard0]]"Uhh, $name, thank you for the lame-ass date tonight. How is the weather we're having?" She asks, before confidently tearing the card to hundreds of tiny pieces. The statue-girl crosses her arms and pushes some hair out of her eyes, looking victorious for having defeated the card. "The weather's fine. But the BADs are getting some heavy rain, I hear." You reply.
She laughs uproariously, wiping imaginary tears of laughter from her eyes. "That's true, I heard the same!" Quwertee pretends to sip her lemonade, and you do the same. This must be a date-thing. Since Quwertee's sipping lemonade, you continue, "So, do you know what your major's gonna be?" That takes her a little off-guard, but she nods.
"Biology." She says simply, staring at you, waiting for...something, that you never say. "It's...for personal reasons, so don't bother asking." You don't do so. "What're you majoring in, Nerdonomics?" Then she corrects herself, "Wait, no, then you'd be in that stuffy nerd house and not in a dorm...unless you're too stupid for them?" You shake your head, unimpacted by her words.
"Arcane Theory." You say, with certainty. "I have no clue what that means, but I'm sure it makes sense to you. God, these are ''boring'' topics, the weather? Seriously?" She asks, noisily slamming her boots on the table again. You think you can see the waitress begging her manager to kick you two out, but that's not a problem yet. "You don't seem to be giving this much of a chance." You eventually reply.
Quwertee laughs. "What, you wanted me to, give you //flowers,// sing you a song about 'I love yous' and 'you complete me'? I don't fucking know you, man. Find a stupider girl for that shit on a first date." //''Objection!''// "I don't need any of that, but I can tell you were having fun earlier, and you keep trying to tease or provoke me, I think you //want// to go on this date, but you don't want to admit that. So instead, you-"
She groans, and flips the entire table with her legs, before standing up. The table splinters into dozens of pieces, and the glasses of untouched lemonade noisily shatter against a wall they've been flung into. The manager begins to yell, but Quwertee keeps on keeping on, out of the door. You follow her quickly, not really wanting to pay for the table she broke. The manager seems to be putting up a poster refusing service to Quwertee when you leave.
"...Let's go have fun. You and me, wherever you wanna go. Stop listening to that nervous voice in your head for tonight." You say, and Quwertee peers deeply at you. "Are you gonna psychoanalyze me more if I say yes?" She asks, and you shake your head. "No. No more verbally exploring the intricacies of your complicated, and beautiful mind." She rolls her eyes, but smiles all the same.
Then she punches your shoulder, ''hard''. It hurts like hell, but she takes your wrist again and starts walking. Give and take. Such is the mean-girl code.
[[Follow your shoulder-punching date.|SilverDate4]]The two of you walk for quite some time, until you've even exited the campus. When presented with a big metal fence, Quwertee simply bends it out of shape, and motions for you to go first. She bends it back into shape once she's gone through as well, with only a few permanent marks decorating the fence now.
Along the rocky roads of Millerfield, the two of you walk, until eventually Quwertee leads you to a tiny house with a tiny garage-thing attached to it. The yard seems to have a tree house, and rather than break and enter, she just climbs into the tree house and waves you up. //"Welcome, to childhood escapism."// She whispers, while giving a grand sweeping motion with her arms.
There's not much in the tree house, only a little wooden trunk, as well as a ''lot'' of overgrown vines and other plants. It's pretty unlikely the tree house has been used in quite some time given the lack of upkeep, but the lack of dust makes you doubt that fact. The gaping hole in the ceiling allows the two of you to look up at the night sky, and Quwertee's eager to lay on her back and do so.
You lay next to her, finally shivering a little now that the darkness is sapping away the day's heat. With a briefly conflicted expression, Quwertee plucks a very worn-looking blue blanket from a nearby branch and gives it to you. "...You know this place?" You ask, and she doesn't really respond, just looking up. Her body heat is rapidly cycling between lukewarm and cold, as if in a strange tug-of-war.
You put a hand on her shoulder, and she turns very warm, sighing. "Yeah, I used to play in this thing, after mom died, but before dad did...he bought it to, I dunno, get away from the past, to help me move on...and I did, really well, even when he died, I moved on...I moved on so well, I tried my luck in the big city, while homeless." She laughs bitterly, shuddering as if she herself were cold now.
You take off Rozzwell's swanky coat, and put it around her. She lifts her back to help you do so, even with her stone-faced expression not really showing whether she wants this or not. She turns onto her side in her newly empowered two-jacket self, and looks at you. You turn onto your side to do the same, and she just stares deeply into your eyes. Good thing you didn't bring those glasses after all.
Quwertee slowly puts a hand on your face, and just feels it gently, breathing heavily. You aren't going to put too much thought into how she breathes, you're too busy being the person of attention. "...close your eyes." She says, and you do so. You briefly feel her warm metallic lips press against your own lips, a kiss that lasts only a moment, before breaking away. "...If you...tell anyone, about that, I'll kill you." She says, still breathing a little heavier.
<<set $QWRTYKiss to true>>
This must all be really unique to her, you don't imagine she actually focuses on tenderness and goes on dates with people all that often...least of all in her childhood tree house. You open your eyes, and Quwertee's face is still incredibly close to your own. When you try to speak, she kisses you again. "Shut up. If you were about to say what I think you were, just...shut up...shut the hell up..."
She wraps her arms around you, hugging you, still taking the lead in all of this. The metal woman puts her head against your chest, listening to your heart even through her childhood blanket, in its torn up state. The two of you stay like that, at first "only for a little bit," then you begin to talk, and she begins to tell you about her victories against "the assholes on campus" before even her first real day.
[[Tell me another one, beautiful.|SilverSleep]]Quwertee yawns. "Nah...I could talk all day to anyone about the cool shit I've done in the past...this is a date, or some shit, right?" She crawls over to the little wooden trunk, and forces it open, apparently she doesn't have the key. Picking away at its innards, she eventually pulls out a really dusty deck of cards, with weird imagery decorating each card.
<<set $QWRTYEve to true>>
"Are those normal cards?" You ask, and Quwertee shakes her head. "They were my mom's, she was into tarot bullshit, but I could only find her special edition playing card set...not the actual tarot deck, in case you're //superstitious.//" She says, a little mocking, but still with a slight sleepy smile. You shrug, and wait for wherever this is going.
"Pick a card." She says simply, showing you each of the cards face-up, then shuffling them, and holding their face-down selves toward you. You grab a random one, and peer at it: A Joker card, in which he appears to be walking off a cliff. Once you've stared at it long enough, Quwertee takes it from you, and places it back into the deck, before shuffling.
With a flourish, Quwertee throws all of the cards into the air around the two of you, and the entire deck rains down predictably fast. Yet when all is said and done, only your Joker card remains face-up. "That one yours?" She asks, and you nod rapidly. "It is. How'd you know?" You reply, but Quwertee simply chuckles. "...it's an old trick, but basically I cheated so no matter what I'd be right."
"With what, magic?" You ask, but she shakes her head again. "Nah, not //actual// magic, anyways...street performer shit, it's showy and light-hearted. In another life, y'know, I'd have done that to make money instead of beating people's faces in the big city..." You look at her, and put a hand on hers reassuringly. The silver punk pulls her hand back, before yawning again. She then lays down properly on her pile of cards.
You lay with her, then more cautiously put a hand on her side, which feels nice and warm right now. The construct doesn't pull back from that, for one reason or another. "Thanks for the date, $name. It was, y'know, alright...and that stuff with the BADs was wicked funny..." Quwertee grumbles a bit as she stretches, and faces away from you. Her sleep is contageous, and with your hand still guarding her side for her, you start to drift off too.
[[Sleep.|EndOfPrologue]]Hi, this isn't the narrator, or No-Name, or some third thing. This is the author of 52-Card, thanking you for playing my game. This is the end of the current build, which I call the 'Pre-Chapter'. You could also call it Version 0.2, since there'll be five total "chapters" of this thing. If you liked what you played, please consider supporting me on [[Patreon|"https://www.patreon.com/LemniscateStories"]]. I'll be developing this thing with or without support, but support would let me focus far more on 52-Card than otherwise possible.
With that out of the way...if you played through ''all of this'' without seeing a lewd scene, worry not, I //assure you// they do exist, they can just be a little picky regarding your choices and stats. At the time of writing this, there are currently...10? planned sex scenes that can be accessed in the pre-chapter based on your stats and choices. Nedallia alone accounts for 3 of these, which is amusing.
There's a //lot// of text in this thing, so replay value should absolutely be present, sex scenes notwithstanding. I can't really think of anything else to put here, but, if you want to skip replaying the game to see the sex scenes within, try naming your character 'Flackfolly' (remove apostrophes, of course). Thank you again for playing, this game is a huge passion project for me, and eyes on it mean the world to me.
Remember to make a big and proper save on the page before this one, possibly saved to file, because this page won't exist when I've finished Chapter 1. But that'll take a good while.
''You had sex $SexValue times.''
''You spent the evening with <<if $SyllEve is true>>Syllyvana.<<elseif $RozzEve is true>>Rozzwell.<<elseif $QWRTYEve is true>>Quwertee.<<elseif $SleanneEve is true>>Sleanne.<<else>>no-one in particular, technically.<</if>>''
''You saw $EI terrible nightmare sequences.''
''You flirted with $flirtstat people.''The door opens entirely on its own, with the pink fog quickly parting for you. The goblin gal herself is sitting in front of her vanity, applying copious amounts of lipstick and texting on her phone at the same time. She waves at you with a warm smile. "Hope you're ready for the big party, Mister RA." She peers over, and her smile intensifies, a little chuckle overcoming her.
"Oh, you sure //look// ready. Nice and handsome, you clean up nice..." She wiggles a bit in her chair, big green ass hugged by the snazzy red dress she's wearing. "You're dressed ''really'' good for just a college party, Sleanne." You say, and she chuckles again. "Hah! That's rich, buddy. Nothing's just what it looks like on the tin, that's my first lesson to ya. But enough about lessons, I'm here to show you //fun,// yeah?"
You nod in agreement, just as the goblin gets out of her chair. She's slightly taller than usual, and her immense make-up has only intensified for the evening. You can vaguely see heels beneath her dress. In response to your gaze, she slowly moves her foot around, posing it to let you view it and her black stockings as clearly as you wish. "I look great, huh?" She asks, and you nod again. <<if $Swords >= 2>><span style="color:#FFFFC5">You can make out a cute diamond design on her stockings, red in coloration against the black.</span><</if>>
"Yeah, I figured as much, sexy. Stick close to me, we're going together, trust me." You decide to trust her, following her out of her room, and down the stairs. When you last saw her, she was dressed sexily, but with practicality in mind. This is mostly just for that sexy property, which it clearly accomplishes, since you can't really take your eyes off of her. She notices, and her swaying takes on an almost exaggerated property as you reach the front door.
Just outside awaits a short black car, parked and running. A slim old butler man comes from the driver's seat, and opens a back door for you. It smells heavily of cotton candy and pine trees inside of this car, and you almost reflexively offer your hand to Sleanne to help her in. She smirks a bit, and accepts your hand, giving you an incredible view of her dress-clad ass as she climbs far into the back, before waving you in after her.
You hurry over, and sit next to her. This car seems to have three rows of seats to it, and intuitively you know it runs on magical crystals similarly to the bus you rode in on. The thin driver closes the door behind you, before getting back to the front. <<if $ShapeInterest is true>>He seems to look back at you with a certain edge to his gaze, but you've not the faintest idea why. <<elseif $ShapeFuck is true>>For some reason the driver seems to avert his eyes from you when adjusting his rearview mirror. <<else>>He buckles in tightly, and adjusts the rearview mirror accordingly.<</if>>Soon enough he's grabbed onto the wheel, and makes this contraption go.
Sleanne's hand seems to run circles around your knee from her domain next to you, that same smirk from earlier on her face. "Such a //gentleman// you are, huh?" She asks, and you shrug. "I dunno, I just wanted to help." You reply truthfully, and she seems to snort. "Silly boy indeed. When a lady calls you a //gentleman//, and //fondles// your knee, you should try to gauge if she wants to bone or not."
[[Try to gauge if she wants to bone or not.|SleeParty2]]Sleanne's giving off the wrong vibes to want to have sex with you, despite her actions running in direct contrast with that. She's actually giving off something closer to manager vibes right now. You inform her of such, and she nods. "Very good, phrased a bit...weirdly, but good enough, yeah. Stick to those instincts, hone 'em, and I promise you'll //fuck// tonight, tiger." She whispers the word 'fuck' into your ear seductively, before chuckling.
Through the window, past the attractive goblin whispering into your ear, you can see that you're driving away from the campus. "Where's this party taking place at?" You query. "This old pavilion by some old train tracks, maybe you saw 'em on the way. I know it sounds lame, and it is pretty fuckin' basic, but I can't smuggle you into a fratrority party at the //start// of the year." She whips out her phone from who knows where, and does a bit of tapping.
"Later on, you show up to //any// fratrority, and they'll let you in. But that takes a reputation, ya'know? We build that ''tonight.''" She pats you on the thigh a few times, then says, "Gimme your phone." You do so, and she seems to put her number into it, punctuating her contact info with several hearts. "If I text you, you answer, without a second of hesitation. There's a list of names I'm givin' ya, make sure you make a ''good impression'' on every name on that list."
<<set $SleePhone to true>>
She looks toward your eyes, which are shielded by your tinted glasses, with a wink. "Do that, and whatever else you want, and I promise you a growing reputation, which means more fun." You take your phone back, and look over the names. Each one is fairly memorable, and the name ''SHAYTON'' has several stars next to it, to signify it's very important. You look over at her, "...is something important about Shayton?"
"Oh, yes, if you hit on //anyone// tonight, and do it //well,// make sure it's Shayton. If you do something comically stupid, do it //away// from Shayton. If you happen to get lucky tonight, consider doing it with Shayton. She talks, a ''lot''. Make sure she's talking positive about you." Duly noted, you guess. None of the other names have such importance given to them, but you do your best to memorize them regardless.
After a few bumps on the road, the car seems to stop, and even behind the closed windows you can hear the music noisily playing. Silhouettes against the sunset move and dance and drink, while Exter from Room 215 loudly hypes Sleanne's entrance, to the cheering of everyone. Is that the dark power of reputation?
[[Exit the car.|SleeParty3]]Sleanne exits first, and you stumble after her, landing on your feet like a champion. The pavilion is a simple thing, with a concrete foundation beneath it, but someone's decorated it pretty nicely with streamers and curtains and balloons. Some of the streamers seem to say ''WELCOME TO COLLEGE'' on them, providing the theme of this party pretty easily. Your guide parts with you, briefly, to talk with Exter, in his iconic black leather jacket.
You scan the place, and note that there's quite a few people here, some of which are directly from your dorm floor. The most noteworthy individuals currently drinking and poorly dancing, however, include the following: Marbles the clown-girl, an unnamed lanky girl, <<if $SPV is true>>Syllyvana of all people, <</if>>both Sally and Sal, Allivar the secretive half-elf, a very nervous looking person holding an instrument, and finally an unreasonably attractive woman with purple hair.
Your eyes don't wander too long before an attractive woman seems to bump into you. She looks similar to a half elf, with vibrant pink hair and <<if $ShapeInterest is true>>blue eyes that pierce into you. <<elseif $ShapeFuck is true>>blue eyes that seem immensely attracted to you. <<else>>very pretty blue eyes, which look you up and down.<</if>> She's wearing pink leggings, and a fluffy pink jacket. This person likes pink. "Hiya, handsome." She says with a warm smile. "I'm Shape. Nice to meet you."
You gasp, this is Shape from Room 211! She was on that list of names that Sleanne texted you. "Hi, I'm $name," A mental image of Sleanne stops you from saying you're the new RA on auto-pilot. Be smooth. "...beautiful." You conclude. She blushes somewhat, and giggles. "Oh, please, you must say that to //every// girl you meet." <<if $FlirtStat >= 4>>//She's right, you know.// <</if>>You laugh, and she offers you a drink. You sip powerfully, and almost recoil from the taste. This is what the people call 'alcohol', and it is cheap stuff at that. The brand's called 'Something Another'.
She snickers a bit. "Yeah, it's not very good, I know, but it was free, so..." Shape shakes her head, smiling somewhat. "...anyways, it's a pleasure to meet you, $name. If you wanna dance later, I might be down with that." She winks, before excusing herself, and going to talk with that nervous guy and his trumpet. That went well enough.
[[Engage with party.|Party]]<<if $PactSealed is true and $SPV is true>>Time moves strangely at a party, and all you know for certain is that your options will change as time progresses. For now, however, with the bumping music and dancing people getting drunk, it's time to figure out what you want to do here. There's not games like at a birthday party, but there are various benches that people sit and talk at, and sometimes walk off from to get a lot further away from the action with one another.
As you're waiting for options to conjure in front of your eyes, you're bumped into by that attractive lanky girl you saw earlier. She laughs a bit, dusts herself off, and offers you a handshake. You grip and shake her hand, which causes her to chuckle a bit. "Heyy there!" She says, looking you up and down for a moment. "Hi, I'm $name. And you are?" You ask, almost like a regular person. "Shayton, but you can call me //Shay.//" She whispers.
You blink a few times. Shayton's important to keep on good terms with, don't look weird or uncool, whatever you do. "Lovely to meet you, //Shay.//" You whisper back, which makes her chuckle anew. "Word on the block is, you're the guy replacing Rozz?" She asks, and you nod carefully. "Neato. Those are big shoes to fill, just so you-" She says, interrupted by a very confused very drunk girl shouting for Shayton's help navigating.
Shayton shakes her head gently, before giving you one singular finger gun and walking off to help her inebriated friend. You swear that her attractive party outfit was partially made of her work clothes, based on the slacks and extra pair of sleeves. At least your blatant stares aren't readily apparent with these swanky glasses on. Hopefully you made a good impression on that member of ''THE LIST''.
<<set $Shay to true>>
Back to the rest of the party: you can see Marbles in a lovely sparkly version of her ordinary clown clothes, Syllyvana awkwardly stands a safe distance from all of this, the purple-haired woman seems to also be looking around this place like you are, the twins are talking with Allivar, while that guy with his instrument is writing on a notepad. Sleanne's still talking with Exter, and she seems to be gesticulating angrily at him for one reason or another. Now then, what will you do?
[[Approach the comical clown-girl.|MBP0]]
[[Hurry over to Syllyvana, since this clearly isn't her scene.|SVP0]]
[[Meet purple-hair lady.|PHL0]]
[[See what Sally and Sal are up to here.|TWP0]]
[[Get to the nervous instrument-clutcher.|NGP0]]
[[Check in on Sleanne and the human greaser.|SLP0]]
<<elseif $PactSealed !== true and $SPV is true>>Rozzwell breaks off from you to chat with some variety of partyfolk that you don't recognize, making his version of pleasantries. You peer around, recognizing that time will move strangely at a party compared to an ordinary interaction. Now it's a simple matter of figuring out what to do, other than drink, drink tastes awful. There are no fun party games here, only drinking, dancing, and stumbling away to get some privacy.
The options don't appear just yet, and rather than get a chance to ponder that, you get bumped into by that attractive lanky girl you saw. She looks around confused, dusts herself off, before looking you up and down slowly. She's wearing a blouse and slacks, and you can vaguely see some kind of work uniform under that vibrant blue blouse. "Uh, hey, sorry." She says, chuckling a bit to herself.
"It's no problemo, I'm $name, the new RA, replacing Rozzwell." You say, smiling genuinely. Her eyes widen, she points at you excitedly, before bouncing a bit. "Aha! The guy talking to //all sorts// of people! Most people don't //inter-fratrority-mingle// like you do, you know..." She says, rubbing her hands together. "Let's talk all about-" She begins, cut off by a very inebriated girl shouting the name 'SHAYTON'. The lanky girl, named Shayton apparently, rolls her eyes, pats your shoulder, and walks off.
That went better than most random bumps probably would. The question still remains what you'd like to do, though. To remind and illuminate: Rozzwell is currently talking with some strangers, Marbles is spinning in circles in a sparkly version of her ordinary clothing, Syllyvana is keeping to the outskirts, the purple-haired pretty woman is looking around like you are, Sally and Sal are talking with Allivar, the instrument-holder is nervously taking notes, and Sleanne appears to be talking to some pink-haired girl. What would you like to do?
[[Hurry over to the clown-girl.|MBP0]]
[[Approach Syllyvana, she doesn't look like she's having fun.|SVP0]]
[[Meet purple-hair lady.|PHL0]]
[[Insert yourself into the twins' conversation with Allivar.|TWP0]]
[[See what's up with the note-taker.|NGP0]]
[[Say hey to Sleanne.|SLP0]]
[[Go to Rozzwell.|RWP0]]
<<elseif $PactSealed !== true and $SPV !== true>>Rozzwell breaks off from you to chat with some variety of partyfolk that you don't recognize, making his version of pleasantries. You peer around, recognizing that time will move strangely at a party compared to an ordinary interaction. Now it's a simple matter of figuring out what to do, other than drink, drink tastes awful. There are no fun party games here, only drinking, dancing, and stumbling away to get some privacy.
The options don't appear just yet, and rather than get a chance to ponder that, you get bumped into by that attractive lanky girl you saw. She looks around confused, dusts herself off, before looking you up and down slowly. She's wearing a blouse and slacks, and you can vaguely see some kind of work uniform under that vibrant blue blouse. "Uh, hey, sorry." She says, chuckling a bit to herself.
"It's no problemo, I'm $name, the new RA, replacing Rozzwell." You say, smiling genuinely. Her eyes widen, she points at you excitedly, before bouncing a bit. "Aha! The guy talking to //all sorts// of people! Most people don't //inter-fratrority-mingle// like you do, you know..." She says, rubbing her hands together. "Let's talk all about-" She begins, cut off by a very inebriated girl shouting the name 'SHAYTON'. The lanky girl, named Shayton apparently, rolls her eyes, pats your shoulder, and walks off.
That went better than most random bumps probably would. The question still remains what you'd like to do, though. To remind and illuminate: Rozzwell is currently talking with some strangers, Marbles is spinning in circles in a sparkly version of her ordinary clothing, the purple-haired pretty woman is looking around like you are, Sally and Sal are talking with Allivar, the instrument-holder is nervously taking notes, and Sleanne appears to be talking to some pink-haired girl. What would you like to do?
[[Hurry over to the clown-girl.|MBP0]]
<span style="color:gray">There's someone not here that could be.</span>
[[Meet purple-hair lady.|PHL0]]
[[Insert yourself into the twins' conversation with Allivar.|TWP0]]
[[See what's up with the note-taker.|NGP0]]
[[Say hey to Sleanne.|SLP0]]
[[Go to Rozzwell.|RWP0]]
<<elseif $PactSealed is true and $SPV !== true>>Time moves strangely at a party, and all you know for certain is that your options will change as time progresses. For now, however, with the bumping music and dancing people getting drunk, it's time to figure out what you want to do here. There's not games like at a birthday party, but there are various benches that people sit and talk at, and sometimes walk off from to get a lot further away from the action with one another.
As you're waiting for options to conjure in front of your eyes, you're bumped into by that attractive lanky girl you saw earlier. She laughs a bit, dusts herself off, and offers you a handshake. You grip and shake her hand, which causes her to chuckle a bit. "Heyy there!" She says, looking you up and down for a moment. "Hi, I'm $name. And you are?" You ask, almost like a regular person. "Shayton, but you can call me //Shay.//" She whispers.
You blink a few times. Shayton's important to keep on good terms with, don't look weird or uncool, whatever you do. "Lovely to meet you, //Shay.//" You whisper back, which makes her chuckle anew. "Word on the block is, you're the guy replacing Rozz?" She asks, and you nod carefully. "Neato. Those are big shoes to fill, just so you-" She says, interrupted by a very confused very drunk girl shouting for Shayton's help navigating.
Shayton shakes her head gently, before giving you one singular finger gun and walking off to help her inebriated friend. You swear that her attractive party outfit was partially made of her work clothes, based on the slacks and extra pair of sleeves. At least your blatant stares aren't readily apparent with these swanky glasses on. Hopefully you made a good impression on that member of ''THE LIST''.
<<set $Shay to true>>
Back to the rest of the party: you can see Marbles in a lovely sparkly version of her ordinary clown clothes, the purple-haired woman seems to also be looking around this place like you are, the twins are talking with Allivar, while that guy with his instrument is writing on a notepad. Sleanne's still talking with Exter, and she seems to be gesticulating angrily at him for one reason or another. Now then, what will you do?
[[Approach the comical clown-girl.|MBP0]]
<span style="color:gray">There's someone absent that could be present.</span>
[[Meet purple-hair lady.|PHL0]]
[[See what Sally and Sal are up to here.|TWP0]]
[[Get to the nervous instrument-clutcher.|NGP0]]
[[Check in on Sleanne and the human greaser.|SLP0]]<</if>>The two of you unbuckle, almost in perfect unison. Rozzwell locks his car, and returns his hands to his pockets as he looks around with the occasional dry chuckle. "Heh...they really went all-out on streamers this time..." He says, and when you follow his gaze, indeed, hanging off of a large pavilion seems to be various party streamers, some of which say ''WELCOME TO COLLEGE'' in big bold letters.
There's music playing noisily from various speakers here, and a whole lot of people, only some of which are from your dorm floor. The people of note that catch your eye are: Marbles the clown-girl, Sleanne the goblin gal, a rather attractive lanky girl, <<if $SPV is true>>Syllyvana the nerd-elf, <</if>>both Sal and Sally, Allivar the mysterious half-elf, the world's single most nervous looking band kid, and finally a really pretty woman with purple hair.
Rozzwell seems to also be taking in the crowd, offering a tired wave to those that notice his staring. They wave back, and soon enough Rozz is shambling over to the nearest cooler. You follow your RA dutifully, and he gently hands you a very cold bottle of something another. That's the actual brand name, you realize, amazed that you must be a bottle empath.
You open the bottle and drink, before spitting it all over the ground. Something Another tastes //awful//. Rozz chuckles again, a little more genuinely. "...yeah, it's not good stuff, but if you like getting drunk, it'll do the job..." He closes the cooler at that, apparently not drinking tonight himself. "I won't be here long, so...if this isn't your scene, tell me before I go."
And with that, he walks off, while you pour out Something Another and throw the bottle into the nearest giant trash bag. It clanks mightily as it lands, and you smile at your throwing prowess. Now is the time to become party.
[[I am become party, destroyer of bottles.|Party]]This is a text-based erotic storytelling game, written by a demented madman with too much free time. <span style="color:red"> If you are not 18 years of age or older, please close the program now.</span>
With that out of the way, I have a wall of text that I urge you, the player, to read to ensure this experience is going to be enjoyable for you. Now presenting: ''the big wall of text.''
<<set _start to true>>
Despite this being an erotic storytelling game, it is also a storytelling game, which is to say that I intend for a story with interesting characters to be just as integral to the experience as the lewd stuff that everyone's here for. Not every interaction or dialogue will be lewd, but the lewd stuff will be written just as passionately as the rest of this project.
<<set $FlirtStat to 0>> <<set $SyllAff to 0>> <<set $RozzAff to 0>> <<set $SleanneAff to 0>> <<set $QWRTYAff to 0>>
There are meta aspects to this game, and many options will be written in a very flippant manner. The author does not care what you choose, even if the narration may at times come off as silly or sarcastic.
<<set $EI to 0>>
There's not going to be a lot of imagery present in this text-based college fantasy porn story game, but I believe myself a descriptive enough author without useful tools such as imagery. If text alone doesn't do it for you, you might not get a lot from this experience. Also for my own sanity and for in-universe benefit, frats and sororities are all coed and called Fratrorities.
Your actions have consequences. Some good, some bad, some largely inconsequential. I'm not going to lure you into thinking otherwise, and I'm not going to trap you into only choosing certain choices at risk of a 'game over'. But even without a silly game over mechanic, there will be consequences to what you do.
This game has existential themes inside of it, some more frightening than others, some better hidden than others. I'm not saying these themes are entirely negative, mind you, just that this theme is not entirely avoidable. Proceed only if you're cool with that.
You puppeteer a male protagonist in this game, because that's what I'm most familiar with. You are also going to be able to have sexual intercourse with men, women, futanari, and whatever other demented things I can fathom. As far as sexable men go, they're usually going to be more feminine, but there are exceptions. The current intention is for you to always be the one penetrating, but if I decide to write otherwise, you'll know before choosing an option that will lead to that.
If you somehow cheat your stats higher than they should be, the game will break down at the seams, and I'll frown 1% more than prior. So probably avoid that. If you're reading someone's appearance, and what should be colorful text appears like whiter white text, you might have an addon enabled that plays with webpage appearances. I've run into this issue personally.
In case this turns you away, the character you play has a comically large penis. It will be described as such, and porn logic will apply to it. One final thing, because I don't know where to put this in-game, but looking at someone (getting a more detailed appearance description) will not take any time in-universe, and will not lock you out from choosing something else.
If you've read all of that, and are ''18 or older'', it is time to proceed.
<<set $PartyMarbles to true>><<if $PactSealed is true and $MarblesAff >= 1>>You approach the cute clown-girl, who appears to be riding a unicycle while sipping Something Another brand beer. Her free hand has a very well-decorated sock puppet on it, which waves its entire body at you rapidly as you approach. This sickening simulacrum wears the same outfit as the clown it relies on to live. //"Hiya, handsome!"// The sock puppet proclaims when you finally reach Marbles, past the small crowd watching in amazement at her immaculate balance while drinking.
You wave hello to the puppet, then look up at Marbles, trying to figure out if she's throwing her voice, or if socks are secretly alive. The clown-girl looks positively divine in her sparkly glittery hot pink clown outfit, a serious contrast with her ordinarily mundane clown outfit. Once she's finished her beverage, she tosses the empty bottle to the small puppet of herself, who full-body hurls it into a nearby trash bag waving in the wind like a mighty flag for alcoholism.
"$name, you look like some kind of popsicle!" She exclaims, and you look around confused. From her throne of a unicycle, she leans forward, before whispering, "//Because you look very ''cool'' in those tinted glasses. Like a secret agent.//" Marbles is wearing a bowtie tonight, which noisily spins in circular motions when she concludes the joke. Your sanity suffers from the joke, but since you effectively came into being today, you laugh all the same. "If ya like //that,// you'll ''love'' the after-show." The clown-white gal winks at you, before hopping off of her unicycle.
Despite the laws of physics, the cycle decides to remain waiting in place for its rider. There's a loud ''HONK'' as she lands on her feet, and you witness the small crowd disperse as she takes a bow. "After-show, huh?" You ask, and she nods rapidly. "M-hm!" The clown puts her hands behind her back and stretches a bit. "Buuuuut...you'll have to embark on one Clown-Quest to earn entry." She playfully elbows you a few times and wiggles her blue eyebrows.
"Give me your Clown-Quest, beautiful woman." You say, ready to shoot sarsparilla bottles or bake a cake or something. Marbles' sock puppet cheers mightily, before informing you, //"She'll show you a magic trick that'll make your eyes cross, if you can juggle. Bitches love a man who can juggle."// You nod in agreement, that's probably true. You've never had to juggle before...
[[Do as the puppet asks of you.|Juggle0Pact]]
[[Give up your secret passion for juggling before it even starts.|NoJuggle]]<<elseif $PactSealed !== true and $MarblesAff >= 1>>>You approach the cute clown-girl, who appears to be riding a unicycle while sipping Something Another brand beer. Her free hand has a very well-decorated sock puppet on it, which waves its tiny body at you rapidly as you approach. This sickening simulacrum wears the same outfit as the clown it relies on to live. //"Hiya, handsome!"// The sock puppet proclaims when you finally reach Marbles, past the small crowd watching in amazement at her immaculate balance while drinking.
You wave hello to the puppet, then look up at Marbles, trying to figure out if she's throwing her voice, or if socks are secretly alive. The clown-girl looks positively divine in her sparkly glittery hot pink clown outfit, a serious contrast with her ordinarily mundane clown outfit. Once she's finished her beverage, she tosses the empty bottle to the small puppet of herself, who full-body hurls it into a nearby trash bag waving in the wind like a mighty flag for alcoholism.
"$name! Are you a hypothetical virgin imaginary boyfriend of mine?" She asks, and even though you know this is leading to some psyche-shredding punchline, you shake your head all the same. "Weird, because as far as I can tell, you came to me first!" Tonight she has a bowtie on, and it noisily spins in response to her joke. You have barely developed a sense of humor, and as such laugh uproariously at her somewhat crude joke, which seems to make her smile.
She hops off of her unicycle, which patiently stays perfectly still in her absence. "I'm glad you like that kind of humor, I think there'll be a lot of it in your future." She bows a few times as the small crowd departs, eventually stopping to smile at you again. "But, before we get to any of //that,// you'll have to do something for me. An ancient clown tradition, for random hooking up at parties."
You like the sound of some of that, so you nod, ready to take on whatever she's about to ask of you. "Juggle." She says, before staring expectantly, though her tiny sock clone stares at you with googly eyes that doubt your ability. //"I bet you don't even have it in you. You're some kind of juggleless clown-virgin."// The puppet smirks at you like a cold bitch. You'll show her.
[[Prove the puppet wrong.|Juggle0]]
[[The puppet's right, don't juggle.|NoJuggle]]<<elseif $PactSealed is true and $MarblesAff !== 1>>You approach the cute clown-girl, who appears to be riding a unicycle while sipping Something Another brand beer. Her free hand has a very well-decorated sock puppet on it, which waves its body at you rapidly as you approach. This sickening simulacrum wears the same outfit as the clown it relies on to live. //"It's the RA!"// The puppet exclaims, trying to get Marbles' attention. You have to get beyond a small crowd that's formed around her, which stares impressed at her balance while drinking.
You politely greet the puppet, then turn your sight to Marbles, unsure if puppets are all secretly alive, or if she's a gal of many talents. That sparkly pink clown-outfit looks insanely hot on her, maybe because it hugs her round ass so well. She tosses the now empty bottle of beer to her tiny cloth clone, which full-body throws it into a trash bag waving in the wind. A bag full of tribute to the secret God of Glass.
"$name, you could've said hey to //anyone// here, but you came to see me right away! Do I owe the honor to your big heart for the art of clowning around? Or maybe you just wanted a //clown around// you?" She winks, and honks her red painted nose several times, though it makes no glorious honking noise. It takes a moment for her to hop off of her loyal one-wheeled steed, but once she lands she waves and bows at the dispersing crowd.
With the crowd taken care of, she faces you once more. "So, don't keep me in suspense! How's the party, did you try any of the Something Another? Come to see me, or see me to cum?" She has a bowtie on tonight, and it noisily whirs after she says that. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding, you have the look of a guy who //absolutely// tried the Something Another beer. It's terrible!" She laughs.
"You keep circling around to having sex, is that a normal part of your routine, or are you hinting at something?" You ask, and she and her puppet share a glance. "It depends, on one simple thing. Can you juggle?" She asks, giving you a very serious look. Well? //"Can ya, can ya, can ya?"// The puppet asks with a mocking tone.
[[Juggle to perhaps join the clown-fuckers club.|Juggle0Pact]]
[[Pass on the potential for making fuck with one of your floormates.|NoJuggle]]<<else>>You approach the cute clown-girl, who appears to be riding a unicycle while sipping Something Another brand beer. Her free hand has a very well-decorated sock puppet on it, which waves its body at you rapidly as you approach. This sickening simulacrum wears the same outfit as the clown it relies on to live. //"It's the RA!"// The puppet exclaims, trying to get Marbles' attention. You have to get beyond a small crowd that's formed around her, which stares impressed at her balance while drinking.
You politely greet the puppet, then turn your sight to Marbles, unsure if puppets are all secretly alive, or if she's a gal of many talents. That sparkly pink clown-outfit looks insanely hot on her, maybe because it hugs her round ass so well. She tosses the now empty bottle of beer to her tiny cloth clone, which full-body throws it into a trash bag waving in the wind. A bag full of tribute to the secret God of Glass.
"$name, you could've said hey to //anyone// here, but you came to see me right away! Do I owe the honor to your big heart for the art of clowning around? Or maybe you just wanted a //clown around// you?" She winks, and honks her painted nose several times, though it makes no glorious honking noise. It takes a moment for her to hop off of her loyal one-wheeled steed, but once she lands she waves and bows at the dispersing crowd.
With the crowd taken care of, she faces you once more. "So, don't keep me in suspense! How's the party, did you try any of the Something Another? Come to see me, or see me to cum?" She has a bowtie on tonight, and it noisily whirs after she says that. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding, you have the look of a guy who //absolutely// tried the Something Another beer. It's terrible!" She laughs.
"You keep circling around to having sex, is that a normal part of your routine, or are you hinting at something?" You ask, and she and her puppet share a glance. "It depends, on one simple thing. Can you juggle?" She asks, giving you a very serious look. Well? //"Can ya, can ya, can ya?"// The puppet asks with a mocking tone.
[[Juggle in the hope of fulfilling mankind's dream of fucking a clown-girl.|Juggle0]]
[[No, and you will make no attempt to do so. Transcend the clown within, just this once.|NoJuggle]]<</if>><<set $PartySyll to true>><<set $TimeyWimey to 1>><<if $PactSealed is true>>You approach the beautiful nerd-elf herself, who looks really pretty in a pitch black dress. More modest than what Sleanne chose for the evening, given it doesn't actively show off her cleavage. "Oh, hello." She says, pausing briefly as she peers at you. "...$name?" She eventually asks, and you nod. "I see. You dress far differently at parties." The blonde looks at your tinted glasses through her own non-tinted ones.
"I never would've expected to see you at something like this, Syllyvana." You say, and she shrugs. "Stop and smell the roses, right?" The elf says in response. She's holding a journal in one hand fairly tightly, and you can make out numerous vague scribbles about the 'Syllyvana Presidency'. The journal ceases existing shortly afterwards, magically, you hope. There's definitely some way to help her find fun here, so you glance around for inspiration. She probably doesn't want to drink, make out, or sneak into a car together...
Your gaze pauses on the various groups of people jamming and dancing to booming music. You open your mouth, but Syllyvana's already grabbing you by a hand, confidently saying, "Yes, we //can// dance." You're more shocked than you probably should be that she figured out your plan. She takes charge, leading you into a crowd. When she notices people staring, she inhales deeply, grabs a bottle of cheap booze and chugs it to slight applause. She makes a disgusted face at the taste.
With a flick of her wrist, the bottle hovers into a trash bag, allowing her to wipe her mouth off with a conjured handkerchief. It disappears after doing its job, while you stare in relative awe at whatever's going down. "Are you okay?" You ask, pretty sure that this girl would //not// normally do any of this. She shakes her head, then offers an overly formal curtsey to you. "People dance at these, dance with me."
You do so, at first joyously making your body move all loose and silly in place, but you're swiftly reigned in by warbling purple magic which springs from her palms. The formless purple glow moves one of your hands onto her shoulder. As the magic fades from view, she places a hand on your back, moving her feet in very practiced movements. Not wanting to get trampled, you do your best to move similarly to her. Her eyes are as calculated as ever, despite the alcohol on her breath.
She spins you around like one of the pretty girls, and you once more ask, "Are you okay?" Syllyvana nearly releases you entirely, but seems to double down, since it's a party. "I'm not okay. Not at all. But I don't ''want'' to talk about that, that's not why I'm at a party. I'm at a party to...smell the roses, for once in my life." She doesn't say it, but you somehow still hear that she contemplated saying 'for once in my life after leaving home'. Hearing that unspoken part is a bit freaky.
She brings you into a dip, leaning overtop you. There's a slight pause as she seems to contemplate exactly //how// wild she should act at this party, holding you still. Her arms shake after //way// too long contemplating, and soon enough she loses her grip on you, dropping you against the dirty ground. <span style="color:#FF3333">She jumps slightly at the noise, then there's various discolored sparks, then...</span>
She brings you into a dip, leaning overtop you. She blinks a bit, clearly confused, since she's //fairly// sure that she just dropped you, but you don't have any dirt on you, and you definitely didn't have time to get back into her arms. "Did you...notice that?" She asks, and you shake your head no, you genuinely have no memory of whatever she's confused about. "Yes, okay...I see...must be the...alcohol." She concludes, not sounding especially convinced herself.
Syllyvana undips you, giving you one more marvelous spin, before quickly walking away from the crowd. You follow her back to where she started, but she seems to be writing a storm in her journal now. "Thank you for the dance. It was...interesting, compared to the rest of this." She offers, before immersing herself in her writing. You probably aren't going to get more out of her right now, so...
[[Return to party.|Party01]]<<else>>You approach the beautiful nerd-elf herself, who looks really pretty in a pitch black dress. If the sun were lower, she'd probably be a fair bit harder to find in such a dark dress. "Oh, hello, $name." She says, quickly noticing you. You wave, and she continues, "You must be fairly new to partying as well. I'm relatively sure that people don't approach the strange pale wallflowers at these sorts of things."
You shrug. "I am pretty new to it, yeah, but, y'know...you didn't seem like you were having a lot of fun, so, why not be awkward wallflowers together?" You ask, which brings a simple chuckle from her lips. "Yes, we certainly //could// do that, couldn't we? But that's not really in the spirit of things, is it?" She seems a little more troubled than she did this morning, so you reasonably ask, "Is everything okay?" Syllyvana shakes her head in record time, but doesn't really follow up.
At a loss, you decide that you might be able to help her have fun, even if she won't open up to you. Your eyes briefly linger on the journal she's clutching, which seems to say 'Syllyvana Presidency' on its current page. The entire journal evaporates into thin air shorty afterwards, hopefully due to magic. You gaze at the people at the party having the most fun, and rule out kissing, making love, and drinking...which really only leaves you with the people poorly dancing to the music.
You open your mouth, but Syllyvana's already grabbing you by a hand, confidently saying, "Yes, we //can// dance." You're more shocked than you probably should be that she figured out your plan. She takes charge, leading you into a crowd. When she notices people staring, she inhales deeply, grabs a bottle of cheap booze and chugs it to slight applause. She makes a disgusted face at the taste.
With a flick of her wrist, the bottle hovers into a trash bag, allowing her to wipe her mouth off with a conjured handkerchief. It disappears after doing its job, while you stare in relative awe at whatever's going down. "Are you okay?" You ask, pretty sure that this girl would //not// normally do any of this. She shakes her head, then offers an overly formal curtsey to you. "People dance at these, dance with me."
You do so, at first joyously making your body move all loose and silly in place, but you're swiftly reigned in by warbling purple magic which springs from her palms. The formless purple glow moves one of your hands onto her shoulder. As the magic fades from view, she places a hand on your back, moving her feet in very practiced movements. Not wanting to get trampled, you do your best to move similarly to her. Her eyes are as calculated as ever, despite the alcohol on her breath.
She spins you around like one of the pretty girls, and you once more ask, "Are you okay?" Syllyvana nearly releases you entirely, but seems to double down, since it's a party. "I'm not okay. Not at all. But I don't ''want'' to talk about that, that's not why I'm at a party. I'm at a party to...smell the roses, for once in my life." She doesn't say it, but you somehow still hear that she contemplated saying 'for once in my life after leaving home'. Hearing that unspoken part is a bit freaky.
She brings you into a dip, leaning overtop you. There's a slight pause as she seems to contemplate exactly //how// wild she should act at this party, holding you still. Her arms shake after //way// too long contemplating, and soon enough she loses her grip on you, dropping you against the dirty ground. <span style="color:#FF3333">She jumps slightly at the noise, then there's various discolored sparks, then...</span>
She brings you into a dip, leaning overtop you. She blinks a bit, clearly confused, since she's //fairly// sure that she just dropped you, but you don't have any dirt on you, and you definitely didn't have time to get back into her arms. "Did you...notice that?" She asks, and you shake your head no, you genuinely have no memory of whatever she's confused about. "Yes, okay...I see...must be the...alcohol." She concludes, not sounding especially convinced herself.
Syllyvana undips you, giving you one more marvelous spin, before quickly walking away from the crowd. You follow her back to where she started, but she seems to be writing a storm in her journal now. "Thank you for the dance. It was...interesting, compared to the rest of this." She offers, before immersing herself in her writing. You probably aren't going to get more out of her right now, so...
[[Return to party.|Party01]]<</if>><<set $PartySu to true>><<set $SuPunch to true>>The two of you lock eyes after a bit of collective consideration, and soon enough you're both walking toward the other. You meet next to a bunch of multicolored balloons, which themselves are by a rather large bowl of nondescript fruit punch. She stands at about your height, and smiles gently as you introduce yourself. "Hi. I'm $name. How're you enjoying the party?" You ask, inventing the icebreaker.
Your vision blurs, time grinds to a halt, as a strange sense of nausea and tingling overtakes you. Those gorgeous purple eyes seem to close as time halts. Her features melt away as this occurs, until she's simply a purple silhouette of her former self. Freaky. Not as freaky as the skull-pounding knowledge of her stats superimposed over your eyes.
''THE ACE OF CUPS''
''WANDS:'' 2
''SWORDS:'' 2
''COIN:'' 4
''CUPS:'' -10
You don't know what a negative number means, you're not even convinced that's real, but time resumes before you have much time to dwell. It looked like someone stitched that zero next to the one. The pretty woman unsilhouettes, and opens her eyes gently. "Party's a little boring, I'll be honest. But everyone knows the real fun's what comes after..." She does sound quite bored.
"Call me Su. I run X-O-X." Su says that roughly as bored, but you nod rapidly. While you keep nodding, she turns a perfect 90 degrees and fetches a cup of punch, and sips mightily. "...This is the only stuff without that shitty Something Another booze in it here, what kind of party doesn't have any water?" She asks rhetorically, not allowing you to answer literally.
"Neat." You instead say, grabbing a cup for yourself. Sipping, it tastes like the imitation of cherries mixed with intense amounts of sugar. Delicious. Su gives you a sly glance, leaning over to whisper, //"...You're in-the-know, aren't you? I felt it, I wasn't sure anyone else was."// If you could take a spit-take without anything in your mouth, you would.
[[Yes, I am in-the-know.|PHLYes]]
[[No, I am not.|PHLNo]]<<set $PartyTwins to true>>You approach the trio of redheads, who seem to be in some kind of disagreement or another. "That's simply too much, Alli." One of the twins say, and Allivar the half-elf is mid-counter when she notices you. "Oh, it's the trainee." She says simply, motioning in your direction. "$name, welcome to the party." Sal says, looking a little more feminine than usual with that blue bow on his head. And the skirt. "We aren't the first people you looked for, are we?" Sally asks, adjusting her white dress shirt's tie ambiently. You're mostly certain you're not confusing yourself on which twin is which.
<<set $TwinsAff to 2>>
"I didn't come to this party and immediately search for you, but I did happen to see you and immediately walk over." You answer, before looking to Allivar. She lights a cigarette that wasn't there before, and smokes ambiently, not interacting with you very much at all. The smoke smells faintly of vanilla, which seems...weird, even though you're not a smoker who should know that. <<if $PactSealed is true>>She stares into your tinted glasses the entire time you peer at her, puffing circles of smoke in your face. When that doesn't stop your staring, she just rolls her eyes, before walking away. "Catch up with me after he's done wasting your time."<<else>>She makes intense eye-contact the entire time you stare at her smoking, and soon she starts blowing that vanilla-scented smoke into your face. When that only makes you blink a few times, she rolls her eyes, before walking off. "Catch up with me after he's done wasting your time."<</if>>
That was vaguely rude, but some people probably don't care for your special brand of vacant staring in their direction, so perhaps this was bound to happen eventually. "Sorry about her." Sally says, waving the smoke away as best as she can. "She's not for everyone, but deep down, she's a good person." Sal informs you, patting your shoulder in reassurance. You stand there for several seconds triyng to figure out what to do with the twins, when Sally looks at a red plastic cup.
"Want to play a party game, sir?" Sal asks, while Sally grabs three plastic cups. Sir is a little formal for your actual 'job' so far, but it sounds cool. "Sure, how do I play?" You ask. Soon enough, the twins lead you to an empty table, noisily pulling some folding chairs over. You seat yourself, and the twins sit on either side of you. Sally places the three plastic cups on the table, and Sal produces a tall bottle of //Blamo Supramo's Whiskey McSlammo// from his sister's bag. It's shaped like a stylized rocket, and if it weren't clear and full of booze, you might think it to be a firework since for some ungodly reason it comes on a stick.
There's also an uncanny smiling gnome giving a thumbs up on the logo, who probably thinks he looks like a friendly brand mascot instead of a horrible hairy little freak. Sally sets what looks like a very strange deck of cards on the table, before shuffling accordingly. "Cards and Cups. That's what life's all about." One of the twins says, before filling the red plastic cups up high. The game is confusing and strange, but you pick up quickly enough.
A game of strategy and lying convincingly, where you can occasionally win just by brute force and patience. You're not very good at it, but neither are they, and soon enough you're all taking drinks. You wheeze at the infernal hellfire burning your throat with each sip, this is akin to drinking a tree, minus the leaves. Better than the cheap party beer by a mile, however. What confuses you is, despite drinking heavily as you lose and win, you don't come out feeling very drunk at all.
The twins do not share the same weird resistance that you do, especially when the bottle's basically emptied. Sal taps his fingers on the table in a manner best described as flirtatiously, before clearing his throat, and leaning against you. He runs a finger along your thigh. His sister seems to look the other direction, before waving to someone. "...You're very attr-" Sal hiccups, "tract...attractive, Sir." Sal says, chuckling a few times.
You aren't certain about the ethics of someone drunk coming onto you since you barely understand what most of those words mean. Before you have to solve that riddle internally, or figure out a response to that, the scent of vanilla approaches. You look over and see Allivar, who laughs. "You two clearly got in over your head with that shrimp..." She offers you a glance, before focusing on the twins again. The half-elf redhead inhales deeply, focuses, and seems to cast some kind of spell.
There's a crackle of energy from her fingertips, then the vague noise of drinks pouring. The twins seem to sober up remarkably quickly, and Allivar puts a stopper in the bottle of whiskey on the table. It's seemingly refilled, which is...weird. Sal looks at you, blushes lightly, and pulls away. Perhaps another time. "C'mon, kids, there's only so long I'll be available, and I'm not meant to be your babysitter." Alli says, despite the fact that she can't be much older than the twins.
The twins stand after a time, putting the cards and booze away. Alli snatches the bottle from them, waving her finger disapprovingly. Sally gives you a wink as they walk off with Allivar, and you're not entirely sure if it was flirtatious or supportive. Twins are confusing. And so is Allivar. Oh well, at least you actually did a party-thing tonight.
[[Return to the party at large.|Party01]]There's no shortage of people sitting away from the thick of the party-going, most of them are drinking and making out, feeling each other up, that sort of thing. Not this fellow, however, clutching an instrument like it'll protect him, while keeping a close eye on things. He quickly notices your approach, and inhales deeply. "Hi, fun party, right?" He asks, putting on quite the good show of not being comically nervous. You shrug. "I basically just got here, and my first thought was to approach you, instead of...anyways, what's your deal?"
<<set $PartyGuy to true>>
The man looks around a bit, adjusting his shirt collar nervously. "Nothing's my deal, just...hanging out at a party." He continues to spoon his trumpet from his position on a bench. Hmm. Would someone //really// lie about this sort of thing? <<if $Swords >= 4>><span style="color:#FFFFC5">He's sweating and shivering too much for the weather. He's obviously lying, or deeply ill. He's not puking enough to be sick. </span><</if>><<if $Wands >= 4>><span style="color:#FF3333">This fellow thinks his instrument is a life raft in a sea unfamiliar to him, and doesn't look like a regular swimmer yet. Why, then, would he dip his toes in foreign waters? </span><</if>><<if $Cups >= 4>><span style="color:#90D5FF">Well. Obviously. You don't talk with people that are mundane and normal. What are you expecting? </span><</if>><<if $Coin >= 4>><span style="color:#B2FBA5">You can see through him like a pane of sweaty glass. He's clearly here on some secret mission from his fratrority, and is just terrible at lying.</span><</if>>
He notices your blatant staring in his direction, and seems to cave in record time. "Right, uh, sorry, I'm...here to see how non-fratrority parties stack up against AKT, the boss lady's //really// invested in knowing, for some reason." The man adjusts nervously once more, clearing his throat. "I feel like everyone can ''tell.'' That I'm not meant to be here. And there's //drugs// at parties like these." He whispers. "...do you ever feel that way?" He asks.
<<if $PactSealed is true>>No, you belong here, obviously, Sleanne sees ''things'' in you. You might not belong in this //world,// exactly, but that's a ''different'' thing. This guy isn't dressed like he belongs, that's why he feels that way. That and the instrument, probably, you don't think trumpets are really a party-friendly instrument. You shake your head to keep it brief, and he sighs. "Yeah, I figured I'd be the only one. I'm probably gonna go soon, I've seen enough to tell Nedallia."<<else>>You definitely don't belong at this kind of place either, but that's probably for different reasons. <<set $KindredSpirit to true>>You literally //don't// belong here, in this world, but also...neither of you are //really// dressed for a party. Maybe you aren't doing this party thing right, everyone else is having fun but this guy. "I get that sometimes, yeah." You say, in a neutral tone. He nods, sighing gently. "Yeah, well, thanks for the talk, it's good to know I'm not alone in that at least. I'm gonna bounce soon, I've probably seen enough to tell Nedallia."<</if>>
He stands, stretches, and awkwardly walks away, to a distant car. Soon enough, the guy's gone. This was a weird way to spend your time, but when in Rome, talk to the most nervous guy first and foremost.
[[Consider further party options.|Party01]]<<set $PartySleanne to true>><<if $PactSealed is true>>You approach Sleanne and Exter, which prompts a simple hand-gesture from Exter. Sleanne inhales deeply, and seems to stop her angry rant in its tracks, a sly smile overtaking her face instead. Exter nods slowly, and sticks his hands into his jacket's pockets. Both look over to you. "Hey." Exter says simply. You wave hello, //cool-style//. He chuckles.
"Hey there, Mister RA. Having a good time?" Sleanne asks, and you shrug. "I haven't really done anything yet, I just saw you talking and wanted to make sure everything was okay." Dear God, you've accidentally performed the task of an RA. Exter looks to Sleanne for instruction, but Sleanne just keeps looking at you, and winks. "It doesn't really matter, don't worry about it." She steps away from Exter the greaser, and motions for you to walk with her.
The gorgeous goblin-girl motions for you to lean down, and when you do so, she cups her hand as to block the world from seeing her lipstick-coated mouth. //"He just didn't think you were post-party material...and I had to tell him how wrong he was..."//" She bites your ear, leaving lipstick behind as she pulls away, with a chuckle. "Don't prove him right, yea?" She asks, and you nod.
Sleanne produces her phone from seemingly thin air, and seems to check a few things. "It was sweet of you to just rush over here because you thought I was upset, silly guy. Kindness should be rewarded, yaknow?" She puts her phone behind her head, and it disappears again. "Pick a girl, I'll warm her up for ya." Sleanne says, smiling. You clearly have no idea what that means, so she chuckles. "...I'll talk you up, then you go in and reap the results."
[[That purple-haired girl is calling to your heart for some reason.|PHLSWU]]
[[Shape is pretty, choose Shape.|SHPF]]
[[If Shayton is so important, why not seduce her?|SYTNPF]]
[[Choose Sleanne.|SleanneParty0]]
<<elseif $SleanneAff is 2 and $ShapeInt !== true>>You approach Sleanne and pink-haired-girl. Sleanne seems to be wearing an //extremely// sexy red dress, and when the wind blows right, you can see that she's wearing black stockings and heels. That explains why she seemed taller. The pink-haired-girl points at you a few times, clearly trying to get Sleanne's attention, but the goblin-girl just slowly stretches and stares up at the girl confused. That stretching shows off her busty chest fiercely.
"...it's, uh, the RA." Pink-haired-girl eventually says, which seems to bring Sleanne out of her stretching. She turns to face you with a smirk, and waves. "Heyy! Ya made it after all, huh?" You nod. "Having any fun yet?" She asks, and you shrug. "I just got here." You reply, which seems to make Sleanne's smile grow. "...and ya couldn't //help// but find the real jewel of the party first, huh?"
You did ''actively'' choose to go to Sleanne first instead of any other choice, so... "Yup. And you're looking really pretty in that." You say, which causes her to laugh. "Pretty! Hah...I like the energy, but let's face it: I'm //hot,// I'm //sexy,// I'm //Sleanne.//" She winks at you, and you nod. "Yeah, you are all of those things, but you're also pretty."
She shrugs, and chuckles again. "If you say so, lover-boy...Enjoy the party, huh? Unless you //wanted// something from dear Sleanne." She says that with a certain seductive tone, said a little lower as if it were heinous temptation.
[[I want you.|SLPNP]]
[[Are you having fun?|FUNFUNFUN0]]
[[Nope, thanks for asking sexy lady.|Party01]]
<<else>>You approach Sleanne and pink-haired-girl. Sleanne seems to be wearing an //extremely// sexy red dress, and when the wind blows right, you can see that she's wearing black stockings and heels. That explains why she seemed taller. The pink-haired-girl points at you a few times, clearly trying to get Sleanne's attention, but the goblin-girl just slowly stretches and stares up at the girl confused. That stretching shows off her busty chest fiercely.
"...it's, uh, the RA." Pink-haired-girl eventually says, which seems to bring Sleanne out of her stretching. She turns to face you with a smirk, and waves. "Heyy! Ya made it after all, huh?" You nod. "Having any fun yet?" She asks, and you shrug. "I just got here." You reply, which seems to make Sleanne's smile grow. "...and ya couldn't //help// but find the real jewel of the party first, huh?"
You did ''actively'' choose to go to Sleanne first instead of any other choice, so... "Yup. And you're looking really pretty in that." You say, which causes her to laugh. "Pretty! Hah...I like the energy, but let's face it: I'm //hot,// I'm //sexy,// I'm //Sleanne.//" She winks at you, and you nod. "Yeah, you are all of those things, but you're also pretty."
She shrugs, and laughs a bit. "If you say so. Have plenty of fun, alright? No party like the first one." And with that, Sleanne returns to her conversation with the pink-haired-girl. Leaving you to your own devices.
[[Return to party.|Party01]]<</if>><<set $PartyRozz to true>>You walk up to Rozzwell rapidly, just as the strangers he was speaking with walk away. They're holding some kind of picture or something that he wrote on just before you approached. "What's that all about?" You ask him, getting his attention. He looks just as tired as ever. "...Sometimes the past walks up to you in funny ways, $name." He says with a very slight smile that fades rapidly. You're not sure what that means //exactly.//
"You came to find me pretty quick...I'm not sure we've even been here for an hour yet...tired of it already?" He asks, and you shrug. "I don't know, you were literally the first person I actively chose to go to...How can Something Another taste so terrible?" You inform the RA, and he laughs weakly. "Heh...yeah...buying Something Another's a B-A-D tradition that people latched onto for some reason..." The curly-haired man motions for you to walk with him, and you do so.
Both of you walk around the party-grounds, and occasionally you can see flickering outlines present near the distant train tracks. No-one else seems to notice them, so there's not much you can do with that information. Rozzwell fills a plastic cup with nondescript colored punch, then hands it to you. "Try that...no alcohol, so less fun...but y'know, it tastes fine." You indeed sip the punch, which tastes far sweeter in comparison to beer.
He seems to keep walking, briefly pausing when you start to move nearer the train tracks, before limply staggering in that direction anyways. You see the outlines flicker into being once again, a man and a woman, one blue and one red, silhouettes of vague people. You hear laughing and sobbing faintly near these people. You're drawn back to reality as Rozzwell sits by the tracks, running a foot along the broken down wood with a gentle sigh. "These parties aren't really my scene anymore...but it's not really the full college experience if you miss out on going to at least one..."
"I feel like I'm just a little lost in all of it, like I'm drifting to people of interest here. Is that normal?" You ask, and he seems to think. "...It's not what most people do at parties...but I don't think that's a bad way to go about it. These things are for socializing, right? Well, you don't have a friend group to just...stick to yet, so...bouncing off of whoever seems interesting, that's fine." Rozzwell stares blankly at the tracks for a time. You take in his words, thinking.
"...Try some of the snacks, those're usually better than the drinks..." He starts to get up, before stopping. Rozzwell offers a hand to you, helping you up. "Thanks, Rozz." You say, but he doesn't respond, just taking your plastic cup from you. "...don't feel too down on yourself if you don't get the 'full party experience' tonight...I don't think anyone gets that." Then your guide walks off, into the party at large again.
[[Contemplate other party things.|Party01]]//"...yeah. I am."// You reply, quietly, which makes her clap a few times, not more than three. "I knew it! It's very cool to know there's others like me. Sometimes I wonder if I'm the only real person here, but knowing that there's even one other person like me, gosh, how liberating...what're your numbers at?" She asks, and you hesitate a bit. This is moving very quickly, and you can only think of one eldritch horror capable of making someone aware of ''STATS.''
<<set $SuKnows to true>>
"Oh, it's fine if you wanna keep that to yourself...I guess it could be kinda personal, like telling someone your exact measurements, when you don't even really //know// them yet...but you at least //have// to tell me what you're aiming for this time." You blink a few times, what does that mean, 'this time'? "If you're just looking for sex, uh, I think it's kinda complicated...but the high score can't be that high for a day, right? Oh! Or maybe you're after //romance,// and //connection// with people? A long-term investment, sorta thing...I wonder how big a harem you can make...is this even a harem-thing...?"
This is getting concerningly more meta by the second, and you don't really know how to disentangle from a conversation without the option being provided first. "Hey. Uh." You start. "Stop. Stop that." You continue, and now she starts to blink. "This is about...college, right?" You awkwardly put your hand on her face, not purposefully, it just kind of happens as you keep talking. "I think you're getting too hung up on...numbers, and records, and...these are //people// you're talking about. They have, like, dreams, and stuff. Aspirations."
"...plus, people are starting to stare, I think it's a terrible idea to talk like this. Just. In general. I don't really care about being seen as crazy, it just feels...dangerous." You move your hand a bit on her face, before recoiling away when she licks your palm. This is definitely someone similar to you, only you would do something that horrific to another humanoid being. She smiles at you, genuinely, when you stare back at her, before nodding.
"You're probably right...yeah, alright, yeah. If you wanna talk sometime, we'll bump into each other, probably. I have to see if Jeremy's at this party, he's always so funny..." Su offers, before stiffly waiting like thirty seconds blankly, then turning a perfect 180 degrees and walking away from you. You excuse yourself as well, and do much the same.
<<if $SawFuture !== true>>
[[Progress party.|Party01]]
<<elseif $SawFuture is true>>Wait! Purple! Violet! And she's wearing a barely decent skirt! It's supremely sexy, but that's not what you should focus on here! This is the same silhouette that was made of ice, that turned Rozzwell into ice! In your ''future vision.'' "Hey! Wait!" You exclaim, hurrying over, and trapping her in dialogue again. "Huh?" She offers, and you grab her by the shoulders.
<<set $SuPromise to true>>
"Don't turn Rozzwell into ice! It's a ''terrible'' idea, and it's freaky as hell! Fight fate, c'mon, be variable, be ''weird!''" You shake her akin to a ketchup bottle by the shoulders, hoping the vibrational frequency will get the message through intact. She just lets you shake her, nodding slowly in response, then rapidly when she starts getting dizzy. "That doesn't make any sense! But okay! No ice!" She promises, and you release her. More dizzy than before, she continues on her predefined choice to try to find Jeremy here.
[[Progress party.|Party01]]
<</if>>"...No?" You ask, confused, which deflates her building excitement. She stands perfectly still for an uncomfortable few moments, before suddenly speaking again, "Have you heard any interesting rumors lately?" She asks, which makes you think. Not especially. "No, nothing of note." You reply simply. Su nods in agreement, then pauses again.
Su looks you up and down in incredible detail for a time, burning every minor detail about your appearance into her cranium, then she speaks again as if nothing absurdist just happened. "You're one handsome guy, have you considered attending a...more interesting party than this one, sometime?" She queries, and you shrug in response.
"That might be fun. I need you to tell me where and when in advance, or I'll probably just get lost. This campus is confusing without active guidance." You inform her, and she nods in agreement. "Yeah, it can be...but you get used to it, don't you worry. This will all be routine for you soon." Su gives a jaunty hand-gesture to show how easy that will come to you.
"...alright, well, I've got to go now, see you someplace else, I bet?" She asks, and you nod slowly. You think that's how running into people works, it's some kind of random thing that happens 30 times out of 100. She downs the rest of her punch, then walks away, not saying anything, she just starts walking away. That seems like familiar behavior somehow.
<<if $SawFuture !== true>>[[Return to party after all of that.|Party01]]
<<elseif $SawFuture is true>>Wait! Hold on! She turned into a purple silhouette, is clearly not ordinary, and is wearing an extremely eye-catching too-short skirt! That's the lady, from your vision of the ''future!'' She's gonna totally turn Rozzwell into ice. You look back and forward, shuffle over to her, then poke her shoulder.
<<set $SuPromise to true>>
"Oh, uh, hi?" She asks, clearly a little confused. You have no idea how to phrase this, but you can sure try. "Hey. You should don't interact with Rozzwell. Bad idea, just, all around. Just...putting it out there. Just so you know." That sounded like something someone not insane would say. Kinda. Su blinks at you, clearly confused, before nodding very slowly, and walking off, out of this passage.
[[Do the same.|Party01]]<</if>>"That purple-haired girl. Do your speak-thing to her." You phrase powerfully. Sleanne looks over to where you're obviously pointing, then nods slowly. "...Alright, sure, aim for the stars, yeah?" You're not sure what that means, but Sleanne's already strutting over there. You don't have superhuman hearing, so there's no way to know for sure what Sleanne's saying over there, by the punch bowl, to that sexy lady in her barely decent skirt.
There's like five minutes of staring like a psychopath at two girls talking and laughing with each other, and Shape briefly moves your head so that when the two look over you aren't staring so hard. Shape moves her mouth as if talking, and then laughs noisily, before exclaiming that you're, 'too much!'. Once the pair stop looking over at you, Shape ceases, and points over at them. "You should be good to go!" She says, joyously.
You nod, and stride over, trying to look like whatever kind of person Sleanne said you were, which is...contradictory and impossible to walk like. "Well, if it isn't the giant himself." Sleanne says as you approach, chuckling a bit with the purple-haired girl. "$name, this is //Su,// she's in charge of //X-O-X//, and I was just telling her //all about// that special thing in your pants." Sleanne takes a cup of punch and walks off after that, smirking profusely.
Su looks you up and down, eyes clearly focused on the groin of your pants, before she quickly downs the rest of her own punch. "So, //$name,// huh? Never seen you around here, must be an update or something..." She moves closer to you after saying something insane like that, posing in such a way that very nearly exposes her crotch. <span style="color:#B2FBA5">"You're handsome, it's a shitty party, and I wanna see your big monster penis. Are you in?"</span>
When she asks like that, in the same color as the Coin Stat, how could you resist? She claps eagerly, and leads you away from the party, behind several trees. You look around, and both of your eyes meet. Yours shielded by those glasses, hers pretty and purple like her hair. Then the ''STATS'' conjure, and your head pounds.
''SU, THE ACE OF CUPS''
''WANDS:'' 2
''SWORDS:'' 2
''COIN:'' 4
''CUPS:'' -10
Negative numbers shouldn't be real, and the zero in 10 looks stitched on, but the pounding leaves just as fast as it starts, and you're back to your full semi-horny faculties. Su's nose briefly sniffs, and she blinks profusely, but after quickly looking around curiously, her eyes settle back on you.
[[She decides to unzip your pants for you with her teeth like a sexy animal.|PHLSWU1]]"...Shape." You say after a pause, looking over to her in the crowd of party-goers. She's dancing like a maniac out there. Sleanne chuckles, "That won't be hard, but if that's who ya want, baby, she's yours." The goblin walks off from you shortly afterwards, interrupting Shape's manic dancing and pulling her away from the guy she was clearly shamelessly checking out. The two converse for less than a minute before Sleanne motions for you to come over.
<<set $PartyShape to true>>
<<if $ShapeInterest !== true and $ShapeFuck !== true>>"Hiiiiya, //$name,// Sle-Sle told me you're an up-and-coming star-stud, and I've gotta say, I think I agree."<<elseif $ShapeInterest is true>>"HeeEeYy!" She begins, smiling too much to see you. For some reason she seems a little conflicted, or even upset with Sleanne.<<elseif $ShapeFuck is true>>"Come back for that //dance,// sexy-guy?" She asks you, with bedroom eyes. Sleanne must have done a ''lot'' in like a minute, or you're really sexy after all.<</if>> Shape offers one of her olive elbows to you, and you stare blankly at it. She then takes control and helps to hook your arm with her own, giggling a bit.
Sleanne smirks as the two of you depart, into the midst of everyone dancing, most of which are too consumed by alcohol or the ''beat'' to care about your intertwining with the crowd. Shape unhooks her elbow from you, and places your hands on her hips. As the two of you begin to dance, she makes you press your fingers into her hips, until you begin feeling up her hips of your own accord. They're wide, and held tightly by those leggings.
<<if $StoleDrugs is true>>Shape stares into your eyes as the two of you dance, face quickly going from flirty to neutral, as she leans to your ear and whispers. //"When I told Sleanne what you did at the fountain, with our drugs, she should've been pissed...but it just excited her...It didn't excite me. I'm pissed off. If I had it my way..."// She trails off, bringing your hands back to her hips when you start to pull back. Shape's pink hair briefly looks inky black in coloration, and it's hard to tell if you imagined it, given that she's a shapeshifter and all.
Shape puts a hand to your crotch, snarling a bit as she squeezes and gropes at your pants. //"...God, if I had it my way...but I didn't. It's her way. For now. She encouraged me to ask you to 'work through my stress', but the only way that's happening is if I'm suffocating you under my ass..."// You start to respond, but she just giggles quietly in response. //"I know you'd probably get off from that, no, if I hatefucked you right now...we wouldn't be walking the next morning. Can't have that. Gotta have you in top shape, for more of Sleanne's bullshit..."//
Shape doesn't let you respond, hand scarily deforming and flattening to fit under your pants, before seeming to return to proper shape as she squeezes and tugs on your penis a few times. //"Just know...that next time, I get to do what I want to you. Thanks for the dance."// The pink-haired shapeshifter states, and as her hand retracts back into place, you feel a tongue run along your length. There's no tongue on her hand when it's freed of your pants, however.
[[That could've gone better, or way worse. Wait off your latest concerning erection then get back to the party at large.|Party01]]
<<elseif $ShapeFuck is true>>Shape stares into your eyes as you dance, expression going from neutral to flirty to outright bedroom eyes. Soon enough she's pressing her body against yours, and whispering into your ear as her hands run along your back. //"Heyyyya...God, when I heard you were coming to this party, I was so hoping we'd bump into each other naturally, so I didn't have to track you down like an addict..."// You're a little confused by the sudden overwhelming seductive, horny energy eminating from Shape, until her voice changes pitch and tone, to one more recognizable.
That black-haired tall girl you had rough sex with in your dorm room, that was //Shape.// She looks...a lot different right now, pink hair, olive skin, more outwardly busty appearance...but she's explicitly a shapechanger, so that checks out, you guess. //"Sleanne wants me to build you up, turn you on, but not get you off, can you believe that? She seriously overestimates how much self-control I've got. I'm going to motion like I need to get something, then I'll walk away. Meet me in the car we came here in."// Shape kisses your neck needily, gives you one last fuck-me gaze, before doing just as she stated.
[[Head to the car.|CarFuckenIsThePlacetoBe]]
<<else>>As the two of you dance, Shape's hands roam your body skillfully, always making sure to return your hands to her hips when your own start roaming. She winks at you, and smiles before turning around, keeping your hands right where they are. She presses her back, and more importantly her nice round ass, against your body, glancing back at you with that same smile. You clearly have a smile of your own on your face, which is intensified as she begins to grind against you proper.
At first she's only grinding up and down very slowly, trying to look even slightly like a dance-thing, trying to look //civilized// and //proper.// Your cock can clearly be felt through your pants, and she seems to take a big pause in her grinding as she feels it. "Oooh, she didn't say you were //big...//" Shape's eyes literally have cartoon hearts appear in them for a moment, which fills you with pride and confused lust. She puts her hands on her knees, and bends over properly.
You keep your hands right where she wanted them, staring down eagerly at her divine ass, bound tightly in hot pink. She begins grinding anew, bouncing her hips rapidly and needily up and down, twerking her fat ass directly against your crotch. It's shocking that you can feel wet heat eminating ''directly'' through her leggings. She must be incredibly turned on, and despite the noise-level of your collective "dance" increasing, it works wonders on you. You semi-nervously look around, it's not proper to fuck someone in public, you don't think.
<<set $ShapeCock to true>>
No-one's looking at the two of you, save for Sleanne, who sits on a nearby bench chatting away on her phone. She blows you a kiss when your eyes meet, which seals the fate of Shape in your eyes. You move your hands, grabbing her ass roughly, and mashing her crotch against your own. She coos a bit, grinding there with need, and just as she seems to start saying something, her phone noisily vibrates. The frustration on her face is incredible as she whips it out, grits her teeth, and smiles sweetly again.
"Sorry, fat-cock, I've got to...go. Somewhere...Specific." Is the best line of reasoning Shape offers to you before wiggling away from you and walking off, arms crossed. That was an incredibly upsetting cock-tease, but it was a bit of a rush to have a girl dance on you like that where anyone could see. Sleanne's nowhere to be seen, so that rules out talking with her. That means it's time to [[return to party.|Party01]]<</if>>"Well, Shayton's pretty important on that list, so...her?" You ask, and Sleanne golf-claps. "Using my favor to socially climb, you really //have// learned something from me already." She smiles wide, nods, and walks off to find Shayton. You stand there awkwardly and wait, hopefully this will score you Positive Reputation Points, or however people discern who's popular and who isn't.
After ten minutes of standing aimlessly, Sleanne walks back to you. "Alright, it's done. Go find her by the tracks, and avoid saying //anything// stupid to her." The shortstack goblin-girl gives you no further guidance than that, so you wander over towards the run-down train tracks proper, away from the party. You have to avoid tripping over more than one pair (or group of three) kissing each other on the less well-lit path to Shayton.
<<set $PartyShay>>
She doesn't exactly blend in, since she's wearing a work uniform underneath her party attire. Shayton waves at you as you approach, seeming to size you up a bit. She's sat on the tracks, and invites you to sit by her by patting a less broken one. You oblige, and give her a confident smile. "Just know that, whatever she said, it was all true." You start, trying to weave a social safety net for yourself. Shayton nods.
"She's not a liar, but she can spin a tale too tall for itself. I think she was expecting me to check, to //see// if you realy did have the ''biggest dick on campus,'' but I'm just so burned after work, I'll take your word for it...I barely made it to the party, and my bitch friend puked all over my bike..." Shayton groans, before chuckling, and smiling at you faux-genuinely. "...but who cares what I have to say, what are //you// hoping to get from this?"
[[I thought Sleanne would help me make fuck with you.|SYTNPFFuckma]]
[[Do you want to talk about anything?|SYTNPFTalkma]]You tap your chin, really doing a good job of pretending that you're pondering which girl to choose. "I choose...you." You say, smiling slyly. Sleanne looks you in the eyes, before nodding slowly. "Good choice, she's //the// hottest thing at this party, after all." Sleanne grabs both of your hands, and sets them on her hips. You move to feel them up properly, but she gently moves your hands back with a smirk.
"Let's see...$name, he's got a //very// goofy way of talking, he wanders around like a lost little duckling..." Sleanne moves your hands slowly upward, along her side, as she thinks. Once she continues, she moves them back down, to her hips, pressing her fingers into yours to force you to grope her hips through that dress. "...He's endearingly naive, and thinks with his dick, which, is a plus when you're as hot as I am." Sleanne moves one of her hands to your crotch, patting it a few times.
"For hook-ups, he's got this //huuuuuuge// dick, you'd never believe it, girl. If you don't keep an eye on it, he'll run all around campus, fucking, just, everyone." The goblin-girl grips your groin, not even looking at it right now, relatively engrossed in her self-hype session. "...You clearly //want// it, girl, you could just lay back and let him tire himself out with you..." She's been rubbing her thighs together for a bit now, but //something// snaps her out of this.
She inhales sharply, collecting herself, before gently moving your hands off of her. "It's done, why don't you try talkin' to her now?" Sleanne produces a lollipop from thin air, and begins to work it over, which seems to soothe her sexual urges. You look at her, blink a few times, then speak. "Hi, Sleanne. Whatever Sleanne told you, it's all true, do you wanna, dance, or whatever people do at parties?" She bites entirely through her sweet treat when you ask that, taking a sugary spit-take.
"//Dance?//" She asks, and you nod, confused. "I'm not very good with social expectations, but I'm pretty sure //something// is keeping you from...making fuck, with me, and even though you're ''really'' sexy, you're not giving off the vibes you said I should be looking for." Sleanne chuckles a few times, then a //lot,// before calming down and throwing that paper candy stick on the ground.
"You're learning fast, Mister RA. Let's dance." She says simply, gripping you by the hand, and leading you into the crowd of people poorly grooving to the music that blares through this place. For a time you struggle with your feet, and the height difference certainly makes it interesting. As you find your footing alongside her, you're quickly swept up into the moment. Her red eyes look almost calculating with each step, but seem to grow soft as you start to lead more confidently. The crowd whispers around you, and soon, there are many staring as you and Sleanne dance. They drunkenly cheer, and scoff, and envy one or both of you.
"Love it or hate it, Mister RA..." She begins, bringing your eyes back down to the gorgeous shortstack you're dancing with. That dress is the second best thing she could be wearing right now. "...this is what they'll be talking about tomorrow. How //you// somehow, some way, managed to con this fine young goblin, in her hot-as-hell dress, into dancing with you." You bathe in the love and hate of the crowd around you, in the gaze that Sleanne gives you as you hold her high above you. <<if $Wands >= 3>><span style="color:#FF3333">Like a green angel, in the light of this place, held aloft by wax wings you've gifted her momentarily.</span><</if>>
<<set $SleanneAff to 3>>
Soon enough, you've got to put her down, she isn't especially heavy, but her bubbly ass and ample cleavage doesn't do your arms any favors. Both of you know that this is the end of the dance, but she leads you along for a bit longer, out of view of these onlookers. "C'mere." She says, motioning for you to lean down. When you do so, she kisses your cheek. "Thanks for the dance, Mister RA." She wipes the lipstick mark off of you with a white handkerchief, before strutting away.
<<set $SleanneDance to true>>
[[Figure out what to do next.|Party01]]"I want //you,// Sleanne." You say, utilizing your version of suave. She smiles and chuckles to herself, eyes briefly glancing you up and down. The goblin stares up into your eyes, eye-shadow adding to the half-lidded appearance they take on. "Ohhh, you //do?//" She asks, running a painted nail along your pant-leg, pausing just on your thigh.
<<set $SleanneAff to 3>>
Her spare hand motions for you to lean down, and you do so, somewhat awkwardly given the height difference. //"When you said no to me, after holding out under all of my attempts to fill your head with horny fuzz...it got my attention, silly guy."// She whispers into your ear. //"If you want me...''good.'' You should. Everyone wants me, I'm hot as sin...but delayed gratification? That's far more...desperate."//
The scent of bubblegum and perfume is intense now, as she runs her spare hand along your crotch. //"Let that hunger in you build, into a proper roiling flame...and I might just come to dance in the flames with you...Enjoy the party, maybe fuck someone, but just know it'll be nothing like what I can give you...so far out of reach."// She blows you a kiss, making searing eye-contact with you for a few long moments that make your penis twitch.
She squeezes your crotch tightly, and as you stare down into her eyes, she pantomimes sucking an invisible penis, jerking it rapidly. This is bad for your pants' continued shape, but she stops before long, since that pink haired girl is calling her name nervously. Sleanne's eye-contact with you felt a far cry from love, it looked to be a deep passionate ''hunger.''<<if $Wands >= 3>><span style="color:#FF3333"> She's playing cat and mouse, desperate to cut to the chase, but not wanting to end the game yet.</span><</if>>
Soon enough she turns back to her pink haired friend, taking great care to sashay away in the single greatest view of her wiggling bubble butt yet. She's clearly taking some kind of joy in your staring, despite her ignoring of you to talk with that pink haired girl once more. You probably shouldn't stand here and keep staring at the beautiful goblin all night, so...
[[Return to partying.|Party01]]"...Are you having fun at the party, Sleanne?" You ask, which makes her genuinely pause. A few blinks act as intermission, before she properly collects her thoughts. "Weird question, but, nah. Not really. This is a starter party, not something I'd spend much time at usually." The goblin-girl looks you up and down, still seeming a tiny bit confused.
"Why are you so confused by that question?" You ask, hoping not to confuse her more, but she has an immediate response this time. "People don't usually ask me that sorta thing. I'm trying to figure out what you're after here." She continues to look you up and down, before settling on gazing at your eyes. Sleanne doesn't seem to find the answer she seeks there, either, so she shrugs.
The shortstack seems to predict your next question, pre-emptively answering it, "I'm at //this party// because there's some new people worth meeting here." <<if $Coin >= 3>><span style="color:#B2FBA5">That's not the entire truth, but you'd go insane trying to unravel her masterfully made social webs. </span><</if>>You nod gently, then offer some joke about bad starter parties, which makes her chuckle a tad.
"Just so ya know..." She starts, smiling again, "...If this is some way to try to get up my dress, it's a really shit one...you were much closer earlier, remember?" You nod, you //do// remember her grinding her crotch directly against your body, and the intoxicating bubblegum perfume that filled your lungs. "Mhm, good, //hold that memory in your brain a good long while...especially if you hook up with someone tonight.//" She whispers up to you, seductively.
"Have fun at the party, Mister RA. What fun there is here, anyway." Sleanne winks, before walking her gorgeous goblin self back to the pink haired girl. A masterful conversational seductress, that Sleanne. She sure likes to tease you.
[[Show me more party options.|Party01]]<<set $PartyProgressValue to true>>The party rages onward, with or without your direct involvement in its festivities. You spend a small chunk of time chewing on party-snacks, weird cheese-flavored pretzel crackers and rather dry vegetable strips that no-one but you is trying. They taste like the loose concept of vegetable more than anything snack-y, but the wacky assortment of colors keeps drawing you deeper into Snackhala. Once you've chewed your fill of junk stuff, you peer around.
People are a decent bit more inebriated now, and getting //goofy// as a result. Someone's taken the place of the DJ, which is to say he seems to have had his phone stolen and an unrelated guy has plugged his own phone into the sound system. Rock and roll, the devil's music, fills the area now, and what was once semi-awkward loose dancing has gratuated to care-free loose dancing. People hoot and woop and raise some invisible roof while watching a gnomish guy chug a frightening amount of Something Another brand beer.
In this new age of partying, your options have twisted and rearranged in strange mystical ways. Based on how time flies, it's unlikely that you'll have too much party left to mingle before everyone's way too drunk to be conversationalists. Peering around, you contemplate your options accordingly. <<if $PactSealed !== true>>Rozzwell stands like a sober beacon in this place, leaned up against a tree like a cool person, or a very tired man. He waves you over, and you approach of course.
"...Hey, bud." He says, putting his hand down by his side once more. "I'm leaving soon, before things get too messy. If you want a ride back, you can come with." The RA peers at the people cheering and laughing, but it seems to do the opposite of enthuse him. You nod slowly. "Alright. Thanks for telling me, Rozz." You should be good to wander aimlessly around the party for about one more interaction before he leaves for the night.<</if>>
<<if $PartyGuy is true>><span style="color:gray">//That nervous instrument-clutcher is gone, predictably.//</span><<else>><span style="color:gray">//That guy with the instrument is gone by now.//</span><</if>>
<<if $PartyShay !== true and $PactSealed !== true>>[[You didn't get to do very much talking with Shayton before she was called away. Go find her.|SYTNP1]]<<elseif $PartyShay !== true and $PactSealed is true>>[[Shay's on the list, you might want to spend some time with her.|SYTNPact1]]<<elseif $PartyShay is true>>You've already spent time with Shay, she has other people to talk with right now.<</if>>
<<if $SPV is true and $PartySyll is true>><span style="color:gray">//Syllyvana's long gone from this place.//</span><<elseif $SPV is true and $PartySyll !== true>>[[Syllyvana seems to be moving to leave this party, go talk to her before that happens.|SVP1]]<<else>><span style="color:gray">//There's someone not at this party that could be.//</span><</if>>
<<if $PartySleanne is true>>You've already interacted with Sleanne, and as everyone knows, strange made-up college laws require that you not cling to the same sexy goblin girl all night.<<else>>[[You see Sleanne, sometimes. When someone tall isn't in front of her. Go to her.|SLP1]]<</if>>
<<if $PartyShape !== true and $ShapeFuck is true and $PactSealed !== true>>[[There's a pink-haired girl with large breasts looking away from you every time you look in her direction. She's using a newspaper as cover.|SHP1]]<<elseif $PartyShape !== true and $ShapeFuck is true and $PactSealed is true>>[[Shape's looking at you when she thinks you can't notice, while holding a comical newspaper in front of her face with big eye-holes.|SHPact1]]<<elseif $PartyShape !== true and $ShapeFuck !== true and $PactSealed !== true>><span style="color:gray">//There's someone at this party that has no reason to be interested in your existence right now.//</span><<elseif $PartyShape !== true and $ShapeFuck !== true and $PactSealed is true>>[[You could always try to find Shape and take her up on that offer to dance.|SHPactDance]]<<elseif $PartyShape is true>>You've already messed around with Shape, it's time to expand your horizons for the night.<<else>>This message should be impossible under normal circumstances to see, so, tell me if you see it. I honestly don't know why I ended this with an else.<</if>>
<<if $PartyMarbles !== true>>[[You could totally approach Marbles, she's still doing impressive clown antics nearby.|MBP1]]<<elseif $PuppetFucker is true>>You can't possibly get near Marbles again right now, you're tingling just thinking about her and that sock-puppet.<<else>>You've already partied in vicinity to Marbles the clown-girl tonight, it'd be silly to double-dip.<</if>>
<span style="color:gray">//The Twins and Allivar are nowhere to be seen.//</span>
<<if $PactSealed !== true and $PartyRozz !== true>>[[Spend some party-time with Rozzwell, he knows his way around these things.|RWP1]]<<elseif $PartyRozz is true>>You just talked with Rozzwell, twice actually, and probably won't get much more out of him in this environment.<<elseif $PactSealed is true>><span style="color:gray">//There's someone not at this party that could be in another life.//</span><</if>>
<<if $PartySu !== true>>[[You and that purple-haired woman briefly make eye-contact with each other, but instead of looking away like a normal person you can walk toward her.|PHL1]]<<elseif $SuPeen is true>>The President of X-O-X has already seen your penis, and you her breasts. You're probably not getting more from her tonight.<<elseif $PartySu is true>>You've already spoken with Su, in all her...strangeness.<</if>>She unfortunately has to unbutton your pants by hand, since she'd probably break her teeth treating it the same way as your zipper. The massive comical bulge that's revealed as she pulls down your pants seems to bring a perverted smile to her face. "Oh, nice, that's gotta be at least...12 inches? Maybe more. Exact numbers aren't sexy, it's more fun to just call it a big thick monster cock." She says, sparing you a canon dick size.
She's clearly not normal, you're realizing, but she does the mouth-pulling trick with your underwear and catches your enormous cock with both hands when it breaks free, so you're not really all that interested in her abnormal behavior right now. She was already on her knees to do various things with her mouth, so it's not that strange of a leap when she starts smacking her face with your giant penis, eyes more interested in it than the rest of you.
"Oooh, God, yeah, you set the record...Maybe just a kiss." She promises herself, lining your pussy-pummeler's tip up with her pretty purple-lipstick'd lips. The smell alone of your virile self seems to be working her up, she's probably not going to manage just one kiss. Swallowing thickly, Su leans forward, closes her eyes, and noisily kisses your fat cockhead, pulling back slowly.
There's clearly a war going on behind her eyes, an immense confliction to keep her promise or to just go all-out on you, but ultimately it seems her level-head wins out. Your penis twitches eagerly, gifted with a beautiful sloppy lipstick mark, but ultimately left unsucked. Su stands back up, panting and shuddering, before nodding rapidly.
<<set $SuPeen to true>>
"You'd absolutely cum buckets with nuts like that, like you were tailor-made to breed, right?" She asks rhetorically, before reigning back in her interest again. Your cock twitches again, perhaps in agreement. "I'm glad to see Sleanne wasn't kidding. You might get an invite to a X-O-X party someday soon, $name. Show up without pants." Su inhales deeply, seeming to find her calm again. She looks back and forward rapidly for a moment.
She raises her shirt over her head from the front, effectively flashing you her deep black bra, holding her gorgeous breasts as their loyal guardian. Her sexy smooth almond skin draws your eye naturally, but your gaze returns to her chest when her free hand undoes her bra and throws it at you. In a perfect world, your face would be buried between those amazing titties, but instead you're hit in the face with her black bra.
"Keep it. Until next time." She says, lowering her shirt back down. Su leaves before you're able to get your pants back on, and for lack of a better place, you shove the bra down one of your pockets. That probably won't be a useful puzzle solution later, but it is a fun souvenir for the night.
[[Return to the party after unpantsing yourself.|Party01]]You wait a few moments, before walking back to the grassy area the car in question parked in. Apparently everyone's parking around this area now, with no shortage of //other cars// to navigate past. You give a quick paranoid look-around to make sure Sleanne isn't secretly following you, and you're fairly confident that she isn't. Experimentally, you try the doors of the short black car you rode here in, and they seem to be unlocked.
You let yourself in the back, and freeze when you see that thin old man inside. "Hello, sir, why have you come to this car?" He asks, in an old-man voice. He crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow. You start to figure out something to say, but are interrupted by the feminine cackling that emits from his maw. "It's Shape, goofus." He says in one of Shape's voices, before hopping powerfully to the front like an animal, out of your sight. When you lean forward to find him, you only see pink-haired Shape wearing fancy butler attire that doesn't really fit her.
She lays on her back, upside-down in the driver's seat. "Yo." She says, kicking off the too-big butler shoes, before pressing a button with her big toe. The door you came in from closes, and you hear every door lock at once. "Sleanne would //never// own an ''actual'' butler, I think she'd puke." Shape says, stretching a bit. "...Sorry, I'm just, still trying to figure out how many people you just ''are'', apparently." You state, coming to terms with the nice butler man not being real.
"More than you know, less than should matter. Now shut up and take your clothes off, I'm not here to exposit, I'm here to ''fuck.''" To add to her statement, Shape's begun to rapidly unbutton her butler shirt. You do as you're told, slipping out of your pants and underwear, but making sure that your cool upper attire and tinted glasses stay on during sex. "She wanted me to be all lovey-dovey, and //seductive,// and shit...those aren't my strengths, damn it!" Shape exclaims, snarling like an animal as she pushes her hands against the floor, //launching// herself onto you.
She lands with a lack of grace, effectively just slamming her entire body against your entire body. You weren't exactly sat down before, but now you're effectively pressed hard against your seat with this partially demented girl on you. Your naked cock twitches a bit, feeling the intense heat from her pussy even through those fancy pants she's wearing. Shape coos a bit when she sees that, short enough in this form to kiss you along the neck without having to bend.
"You," She messily kisses your neck. "//really// like my pussy, don't you?" You nod. "It's ''way'' hotter, temperature-wise, than it should be." You inform her, and Shape laughs. "Yeah, just a quirk of mine. One of the things that make me an 'imperfect experiment'." She smiles with too many teeth, allowing you to watch as some of them seamlessly merge together until she has the proper amount. You decide against asking.
You can feel her heart beating rapidly against you as she thinks about something, and you offer her a reassuring smile. "What's on your brain?" You ask, trying to come to terms with your arousal for this unhinged shapeshifter. "Do you...do you wanna roleplay?" Shape asks with big eyes. You can't say no to someone making that kind of needful expression.
[[Yeah, alright.|CarFuckenRoleplayFeeHeeHee]]"Sleanne made it seem like you would have sex with me, or something." You say, which causes her to roll her eyes. "...I guess she expected more from one of us, then." Shayton says, shaking her head. "Sorry, but probably not, not just from hearing about what's in your pants...I'm not holier-than-thou, I hookup sometimes, that's what people //do// at parties." She sits on the grass, feeling it in her hands. "Other than drink terrible drinks, and dance?" You ask, and she laughs.
"Hah! Yeah, well, not //every// party can be like the BADs, with their //interesting// things to do. Games, usually pervy ones...you'd love it if you thought Sleanne's word alone would get me to fuck you." You hold your hands up defensively. "Hey, I just know she's...extremely persuasive, and sexy, maybe she'd..." You try to think, but come up short, eventually shrugging.
"Seduction osmosis, I get you." She motions for you to sit with her, and you do so, amazed this conversation is still going somehow. "...Why are you still talking to me?" You ask, unsure if this is how rejection should go. She laughs again. "Oh, if you think I'm leading you on, I'm not trying to. Trust me, I'm //not// sleeping with you tonight. But, uh, I dunno...people talk at parties, and you're funny." By the power of semantics, you have the power!
"But you could do so another night?" You ask, and she shrugs. "Who knows, right? Like I said, you're funny, and you've //gotta// be something interesting if Sleanne of all people's talking you up." Shayton motions in the direction of your crotch. "Other than the obvious interesting thing. She's not as easily impressed as she might seem at times." The two of you sit there in silence for a few moments, before Shayton grabs some of that terrible alcohol from behind her head, //magically.//
She opens it, and sips quietly, before offering you some. You drink, reluctantly, and she claps you on the shoulder a few times. It tastes just as terrible the second time. Do people //like// this stuff? Are you the weird one? "Alright, well, I have to see what interesting stuff's going down tonight, so..." Shayton stands, and helps you up. You pour the rest of the booze onto the ground, before locating the nearest trash bag and throwing it in there.
//Clank.// [[Decide on what to do next.|Party01]]You just shrug. "I genuinely don't know anymore." That's enough of an answer for Shayton, who nods gently. "That's fair, I guess...if you're not here for anything, then, why stay?" She asks, and you shrug again. "I'm already here, and I don't really know what to do at a party yet...I think you just walk up to people and talk? Because drinking isn't fun..." You trail off, and she gives a tired chuckle.
"Yeah, you kinda have to make your own fun with drinking. The fratrorities have that all figured out." She yawns, stretching a bit. "Anyway, don't give parties too much stress. They're great for trying new things, and getting to act like an idiot for a night, but some people treat them with //way// more importance than they really have." Shayton pulls out her phone, and starts scrolling.
The phone's loving glow against her face makes her look happy, rather than tired, but you're pretty sure she's both. "Hopefully any of what I said was helpful, I don't really do the advice thing often." You nod gently, it was a bit helpful, even if you expected something different from all of this initially. ""...Do you wanna talk about anything?" You ask, which makes her blink a few times. "That was a non-answer, but...yeah. I do. //All the time.// I dunno if it's some negative brain-thing, or magic, or just...who I am? But I ''always'' want to talk. I get headaches when I go too long without socializing." Shayton informs you, which is just a lot to take in. You asked, though.
"I see...that would be pretty terrible to have to live with, but...you seem to be making it through well enough. You have a job, most people I meet don't really do one of those." You respond, trying to sound reassuring, which seems to work to some extent. She doesn't //need// to be reassured to function, but who doesn't like being reminded of the hurdles they've cleared? Shayton nods, curly brown hair bouncing as she does so.
"I guess." She says, laying back on the tracks, before smiling, and motioning for you to join her. No trains run to Millerfield, so you do so. "Hey, did you know someone //died// on these tracks once? True story. No clue who, though, or exactly //when// it happened." That's really fucking morbid to say with a smile, but you offer an "Ah." in response. Shay nods gently, and her face turns neutral as she thinks over what she said. "Maybe not so fun of a fact, in hindsight. Just trying to stop moping in my weird troubles."
"Well, do you have any actually fun facts?" You ask, meeting her prior smile halfway with a curious smirk. The lanky babe has to think for a bit, but nods again. "Alright, so, maybe not //fun// again, but I have //interesting// stuff. Liiike...did you know AKT, the drama-music-whatever fratrority, has a //spy// at this party? I think they're planning something. Orrrrr...how about those ZZZs, huh? Hard workers, but internally, it's like, wow, civil war right now...I think there's gonna be a ''big'' change in leadership soon."
Shayton speaks of this and that, for quite some time, about names you'll never meet and who they're hooking up and cheating with, what college sportsplayers are probably juicing, about the weird unknown group that's stealing cars...it's all vaguely interesting, but most of it is unlikely to be actually useful to anyone. She knows a ''lot'' about way too many people and places, too much for one person to reasonably learn alone. "How do you know all of these things?" You ask, which makes Shayton chuckle, she's clearly feeling a lot better.
<<set $ShayAff to 2>>
"It's an amazing magic, but not the kind you cast...I just listen when people talk around me, really. Use what I hear, talk to others about it, they tell me what they know, and some new thing, and I add it to the bunch, and from there it just...snowballs. I've been doing it for a couple years now, so now my reputation has people trying to pry information from me...which means they tell me something they know unprompted."
Huh. That reputation thing definitely works, because Sleanne told Shayton about your big penis to try to get her to get naughty with you. Shayton smiles some more, before getting up. She holds her hand out to help you up, and you accept. "Thanks for talking with me, even if it was just to cheer me up. You're a-okay in my book." She looks back and forward, before kissing you. At first it's a moment, then it's prolonged, then she finally draws away. "...Just as a little gift in return."
As she walks away, you can only hope she enjoys the rest of the party more than she currently has been. [[Return to partying.|Party01]]<<if $PactSealed is true>>"...I'm gonna be honest...I have no idea what your schtick is. You made a soul-pact with Sleanne, there's a party //tonight// that all of her...friends...are at, and you wanted to hang with me?" Rozzwell rolls his window down, letting the cool evening air in. You shrug. "Yeah, that's about right." He chuckles a bit. "...you're definitely the right guy for this floor, but you gotta work on that self-control thing...you're not just leading her on, you've actively bound yourself with magic, which is gonna take some serious work to undo..."
You peer at him, and he doesn't seem nearly as disappointed as he was earlier today, he just looks tired, and somewhat amused. "...but I'll still be here to guide you, dude...working on breaking a pact for you too, I guess. It'll take time, that's for sure..."<<elseif $SawFuture is true>>"...I have no idea why you decided to go with me instead of just...hitting on some dorm-girl, or guy, or...sleeping early tonight." Rozzwell states, rolling his window down to let the cool evening air in. You blink a few times. "I just...feel like I should keep an eye on you, in case an ice lady shows up to turn you into an ice Rozzwell." He has no idea what the fuck that means, but nods regardless. "...thanks, buddy. Glad to have someone watching my back."
"I just really don't want you to turn into ice, Rozz. It was extremely mentally disturbing to see." You continue, and he side-eyes you. "...have you been high today?" He asks, and you shake your head. "No, but the trash-oracle was, I think." Rozzwell chuckles. "...ah, that guy, yeah...his visions can be misleading or non-literal...you get what you pay for with someone who 'looks at time' using drugs...don't worry about it, man, the future's always changing..."
<<else>>"...I couldn't possibly think of a reason why you'd go on this ride with me when you could be sleeping, or studying...or talking to some chick, or...whatever you do on the average evening..." The RA eventually says, rolling his window down to let some cool evening air in. You look over at him, but his expression gives no particular insight into what's going on in his head. "I dunno. Maybe it was to learn more about being an RA, or to not be alone tonight, or...you seemed like you were tired, I could've come along to make sure everything was fine?"
He shakes his head gently. "...Nah...I'm always like this, if I wasn't...'tired', some day, something'd be really wrong...the why doesn't really matter, just making sure you actually want this, and aren't just...sucking up."<</if>> Rozzwell eventually pulls in to some barely operational brand gas station in town, parking. "...come in if you want." Then the curly-haired fellow unbuckles and heads into the gas station.
You can't really stay in one place without descriptors to keep you sane, so you unbuckle and follow Rozzwell inside of the gas station. He walks around with his hands in his pockets, looking really cool and dead inside as he staggers and looks at, of all things, pink and blue powder-candy, in thin paper sticks. Rozzwell grabs at least thirty of this particular candy, before looking to you. "...grab whatever you want, I'll cover it this time..."
Free gas station cuisine!? You jaunt around with moxie, looking intently at the various off-brand candies and drinks and potentially useful miscellaneous items for a quest later, or something. Rozzwell follows you slowly, gently smiling or shaking his head with a chuckle as he sees the way you're so intensely interested in the smallest of things. Finally, you find it, the apparent goal of your search: frozen ice cream on a stick that will apparently look like some cool cartoon character.
You pluck the coolest looking one from its ice-cold home, and follow Rozzwell to the counter. He seems to have grabbed a basket's worth of stuff while you were on your mini-quest. He pays the overly-cheery clerk in exact change, carefully retrieving your ''Cartoon Ice-Pop'' from its plastic bag, and leaving this sacred place.
[[Buckle up and unwrap your prize.|RozzEve2]]Dear God, it's ''hideous,'' and //nothing// like the image on the wrapper. Someone has melted Joseph Cartoon's face into a grim mockery of his true form. You tell Rozzwell as much, and he chuckles again, at first just once, then several more times as he clutches his steering wheel. "Heh...heheh...Hahahaah! Hah.." He laughs, and laughs, before calming back down. "...They don't usually look too good, nah...it'll taste better than it looks, I promise..."
You bite and deform the already deformed monstrosity beyond any hope of repair, while Rozzwell fulfills his quiet car-prayers anew. It tastes strongly of sugar, fruit, vanilla, and eventually something bubblegum adjacent as you consume the false-man's eyes. Soon all you're left with is a stick, which Rozzwell asks you to put in a plastic bag, alongside the rest of your trash. You do so, and swallow your gum like a raving maniac.
"Thanks for the free fruit-man, Rozzwell, even if he is a grim reflection of his true self..." You state, as Rozz pulls out of the parking lot. He nods simply, continuing your collective drive around the town, he goes far slower in town than on-campus, which is interesting. When he finally finds the dirt path he was apparently searching for, he turns onto it, headed into the woods that surround Millerfield. There are signs that warn to go slowly because of giant deer, but Rozzwell's driving is confident and smooth once more here.
With trees surrounding you, and the insects singing a song of night, Rozzwell eventually parks anew, turning the car off. He walks out with his hands in his pockets again, and even in the dark of the night you can tell there's a stream running nearby. He sits down on a log, and inhales deeply. Fine finger movements give way to sparks in a priorly unseen firepit, which lights. You hop out of the car too, and look around this place.
There's not a house in sight, just the stream running, the fire in its circle of discarded bricks, and the trees, some of which have carvings in them. You peer upward, and see the beautiful moon high above you, as well as the numerous gorgeous stars that guide people. "...That one's the Big Dipper, I think." He says, following your gaze, then pointing. You don't know exactly what that means, but it sounds right based on the shape that he's tracing.
"So, what's this place all about?" You ask, sitting down by the fire. Rozzwell sets the plastic bag filled with his various gas station treasures on the ground by his log. "...Just a place I've been coming for years now, I guess..." He grabs a couple of red plastic cups and pours them full of some offbrand soda, holding one out for you to take.
[[Accept your first soda.|RozzEve3]]It tastes like bubbles, a vague tingling sensation against the roof of your mouth, and heavy sugar intake. A seductive alternative to water, but far less quenching than the //real deal.// "Thanks." You say, finishing off your cup "...Yep." He replies, staring at the fire with tired eyes. "So," You begin, knowing by now that you have to take the active role in most conversations with Rozzwell, "You said you've come here for...years? So, all of college then?"
Rozzwell nods, and smiles a bit. "...Yeah, with the people from that CD that you heard earlier...man, we were great..." His brief joy is overtaken by more exhaustion in his gaze. You grimace as well, and think. "Uhh, do you wanna...tell me about your cool past? It definitely seems to follow you around..." His gaze meets yours, and he seems to agree with that sentiment. That exhaustion can only come from the past.
"...No. Not really...but it beats sitting in silence, right,,,?" You nod rapidly, and Rozzwell chuckles a bit. You don't think he chuckles that often from most other people. "...Yeah, alright...Let's see...It was a night, much like this one, just way cloudier...My old band, The L-Word, we were performing...by some train tracks..." His gaze gets very distant for a moment, the fire flickers strangely. You can almost make out little figures dancing in the fire, wisps of smoke and tinder that tumble in front of a moving train.
You blink rapidly, and the figures are but smoke in the breeze. "...anyway...It was the grand unveiling of our latest album, so the crowd was pretty big...we had this stunt we wanted to do, but we definitely didn't have the right props for it...but that same year, I learned I could heal broken bones with enough effort, so, y'know...we could be a little more careless."
Rozzwell refills your cup, and you sip mightily while listening intently. "...anyway, none of us had the magical prowess required to pull this off without some stage effects, but, we tried anyway...the idea was, at the best part of the last song, we start flying, y'know? Sometimes we figured we'd do it over the crowd, or just on stage, or all over the place like a tilt-a-whirl..." He chuckles again. "...that last one was just for laughs, obviously you'd spew everywhere if magic threw you all over the place..."
"That show, though, as we were playing, man, I //felt// the music...I //felt// the crowd...everyone was moving as one, y'know? That kind of high, on stage, I don't think I'll ever feel that again...I felt like I had wings, so...during the toughest part of the album, I just...threw myself, into the crowd...well...that was a good way to break a couple bones...and my first guitar. Definitely a night no-one there would forget, though."
Rozz stares blankly into the fire again, exhaling deeply. You blink, and give him a reassuring smile. "It sounded really cool, even if you did fall on your face." That seems to pull him out of it, and he nods. "Yeah...hey, try one of these..." He says, offering you one of those powder-candy paper sticks, or PCPS for short. You just bite into it like an animal, ruining the delicious sugar-stuff inside by making it melt together with the paper. It tastes really sweet, though.
[[Consume paper.|RozzEve4]]Your strange behaviors seem to bring him closer to peace once more, but he does still go through the effort of showing you how to properly tear the packet open to get to the sugar inside. After swallowing his packet of blue sugar, he opens his mouth, and shows you his tongue with a "Bluh..." It's been stained blue, so you can only imagine what color yours has become.
"...That isn't permanent, is it?" You ask, and he laughs. "Nah...it goes away pretty easy...hey, can I ask you something?" He asks, and you nod. "Probably." Rozzwell chuckles dryly, before continuing, "...right...are you...//from// here? Because everything seems, just...so fresh through your eyes...Consider me jealous...and don't tell me it's because you're new to college, you're definitely the only freshman this year that eats paper..."
<<set $ToldRozz to true>>
There's not a //great// answer to that question, but he's been pretty forthcoming with you so far, so... "...No, I'm not from here. I'm...basically suffering from weird amnesia, so everything //really// is new for me." He pauses, then nods slowly. "...Man, and you're at college instead of, like...a therapist, or recovery facility, or something..." Rozzwell stops his staring into flame, and looks at you with those tired eyes. "...I guess I can't be that weirded out...you probably have your own reasons..."
<<set $RozzEve to true>>
You nod. "Yeah...I just know this is what I've gotta do, where I've gotta be. I don't know a lot, but I know that for sure." It's nice to immerse yourself in being you, instead of the more narrative reason of being here because you're engaged in some vague card game with No-Name. Not that you can really tell Rozzwell about No-Name safely... "...Either way, man, I'm here with you...amnesia, no amnesia, you're my replacement, I've gotta make sure you're the best you can be..."
Rozzwell produces two glow sticks and cracks them, before connecting them into a cool glowing armband. He slides it over your arm, then sets out to do the same for his arm, which already has copious amounts of friendship bracelets decorating it. Soon you're a pair of glowing arms in the night, by the fire. "Something to remember the night out with...it won't really keep, but...y'know." He chuckles, moving his armband in circular spinning motions.
Given the time, and your yawning body, you're likely to fall asleep like this, by the campfire. Rozzwell clearly notices this, and gets up from his seat, staggering over to the car, and producing an old blanket. He puts it behind you, and you lay back onto it readily. Then he sits down nearby, and lays on the cold hard ground, staring up at the stars in the sky. When you get too cold, he just removes his jacket and tosses it to you, seemingly too dead inside to care about the chill of the night.
[[After everything, flirt with Rozzwell. Try to be more than roommates.|RozzwellFireFlirt]]
[[Get as comfortable as you can and try to sleep.|RozzwellFireSleep]]The moment's comfortable enough to at least try. You peer over at the RA, laying on his back, and invite him next to you. He seems to contemplate, before nodding, and laying on the blanket by you. "...much better than the ground, yeah." He offers, returning his gaze to the stars. His body's very cold next to your own, even with the fire nearby. You try to come up with words, but nothing will stick, so you instead just place your arms around him, cold be damned. Rozzwell looks over to you as your head presses into his side, face cold and neutral still, but you can see mental warfare going on in those tired green eyes.
"...you're warm." He eventually concludes, relaxing somewhat in your grasp. "And you're cold." You reply, at which he chuckles once more. "Heh...you can't just be hugging me because you want to warm me up...no-one's that combination of selfless and socially inept..." He's right, of course, but you say nothing, using his jacket as a blanket overtop both of your torsos, awkwardly splaying the poor thing out. "...if this is just...wanting to hook up with someone...it's a terrible idea...I'm your roommate...and guide..."
[[Kiss the sad guitar-man.|RozzwellFireKiss]]"I'm falling asleep here, Rozz...I'm not long for the land of the waking..." You say, yawning, and stretching out. He peers over to you, smiles faintly, and nods. "...Alright. Not the first time I've slept in the woods..." He says, getting up and producing a couple more blankets from his car. The black-haired man hobbles over to you and sets one of those blankets atop you, before locking his car. Before long, he's laying nearby on his own blanket, and adjusting underneath a secondary one. This is a man of many well-worn blankets.
"You're gonna be a great RA someday, I can feel it..." He says, staring up at the stars. You look at him with huge eyes, wondering if that's literal or even true. "Really!?" You exclaim, still too sleepy to fully commit to hopping to your feet. Rozz just nods, pulling out his phone to take a picture of him on that blanket. His expression remains neutral and distant even when the device noisily takes its photo. "...bumps and all. You'll make mistakes...but don't dwell too hard on what 'could've been'...I'm the expert in that area, and trust me...it's a tiring road..."
You soak in what knowledge can be extracted from your guide's pre-sleep ramblings, but eventually raise a question. "...If it's so tiring...why do you do it to yourself?" He yawns a bit, chuckles bitterly, and shakes his head. "...Everyone wonders a little about what could've happened if things went a touch differently in the past...but me...?" Rozzwell's face becomes far more serious as he balls up his fists, staring up at the cosmos as if to challenge it. "I've got //blood// on my hands...indirectly, obviously...or else I'd be in jail..." The curly-haired guy sighs.
"That's what everyone told me that whole year, that I didn't //really// have blood on my hands...it wasn't //my fault//...They blamed the drugs, or anxiety, depression...or the driver..." You hear the distinct blaring of a train's whistle, for some reason. "I'm not holding onto the past because I could be in a better place if I'd just done //this,// or //that//...If I did even one thing differently, someone dead would be alive...how can you ever fully move on from that?"
He doesn't wait for an answer to his impossible riddle. "...Sorry. That got...heavy. This place gets to me like that...even if it has a nice vibe beneath the baggage...but...to answer your question, I guess...I do it to myself because if I don't...I'd just move on, from something that's my fault...that no-one else will hold me accountable for..."
Rozzwell exhales deeply, gets up, and chugs the rest of the soda from its big container. Once he's finished, he stretches, and collapses back onto his blanket, laying on his stomach to avoid looking to the stars as well as the fire. "...I stand by what I said...you'll be a good RA...and if you need someone to bounce problems off of...I'm good at listening. That's gotta be a hell of a lot nicer than when I open my mouth..."
The two of you lay like that for a long time, neither fully unconscious, until Rozzwell suddenly is. You can only be sure because he stops talking, and adjusts in his sleep. Part of you wishes for more context, part of you wishes to help him move on, part of you wishes to sleep...and that part is the loudest. "...you're worth forgiving...Rozzwell..." You offer to a man already incredibly asleep. Soon enough...
[[Fall asleep.|EndOfPrologue]]You tap his side, causing him to look over, before kissing him on those soft lips. He's stiff at first, but shakily wraps his arms around you as well. You pull away from the kiss, while Rozzwell stares into your eyes, exhausted. "...You'd be wasting your time on me..." He says, to justify pulling away to himself as well as to you. "Was the rest of tonight a waste?" You ask, and he goes quiet again.
"...be quiet..." He says, shushing you when you try to respond, "...and listen...like I said...this is a bad idea. If you're feeling //things// for me...don't. I'm not the person for you..." Then he stares at you, waiting. You're not so easily swayed by his bubbling self-hatred. Follow through...
<<set $RozzKiss to true>>
"I want you to be that person, Rozz." You say, offering another reassuring smile to him. It doesn't reassure him. "...no. Stop that...we've ''just'' met. You don't know me...I don't know you...love at first sight doesn't //exist.// This is just...seeking connection, I don't know why, I don't know why with me...I don't deserve that sort of thing." He trails off, sighing, eyes briefly entranced by that fire again. You stare at it too, for a time.
"What happened at the fire, Rozz?" You eventually ask, neither of you fully disentangling from the other, but his body tenses at that question. "...It was...my second year, around winter...we disbanded, The L-Word, because..." He goes silent, staring up at the sky now. "...the train." You say, gently, and he nods weakly. "...yeah. The train...I wasn't..." He sighs. "...a good person for the rest of that year...to anyone...but especially not to myself...one day, I just...started smashing everything we'd built here, by this little river, with my guitar...God, I destroyed everything...and I threw it all into a big pile, and just...let it burn...it was liberating, and it was horrifying and suffocating...my guitar...it didn't make it through, so I just...burned that, too..."
"...never played since. Never will, probably...so this place...it was where everything started spiraling...life's a bunch of spirals, you know...? Nothing'd exist without conflict, so, along the river we ride...into the next big problem...until some day, we die to one of those conflicts..." Rozzwell goes very silent, not able to cry tears he's cried to death already. "...But this place doesn't //just// mean bad, Rozz...I'm sorry that happened, I'm sorry you feel this way, but...you don't ''have'' to live in that bad moment. You had fun here, too, and you had fun tonight. You've got to...let yourself have fun."
<<set $RozzAff to 3>>
Rozzwell just remains quiet after that, letting you hold onto him, as the fire warms both of you. You reassure and talk and talk, but he's clearly too deep in his thoughts to really hear you now. After minutes on end of getting no response, he suddenly tightens his grasp on you, hugging you tightly. Neither of you exchange words, he just hugs you, meeting your gaze now, and chuckling weakly when you do something inane or deranged. He guides one of your hands to his hair, and allows you to run your fingers through it.
He seems to like the physical contact, and he especially seems to like it when you rest your hand in the thick of his soft black curls. You're not sure how long the two of you lay like that, hugging, weakly chuckling, and eventually growing comfortable enough to fall asleep. That campfire smells like Rozzwell, and his car. He spent a ''lot'' of time here before meeting you, and you've hopefully helped him to torture himself a little less over his past.
[[Fall asleep.|EndOfPrologue]]You knock politely on the door of Zeta Zeta Zeta, briefly staring enthralled at the really well-kept lawn. The door opens really quite quickly, revealing Syllyvana and some other members that she's waving off dismissively as she greets you. "$name. Good. Shall we?" She asks, quickly, as two students try to get a word in with her. She simply steps out of the door, inhales, and the door //slams// shut behind her with a dull red glow. You can hear it locking itself magically.
"What was that all about?" You ask, following the elf, eyes taking in the gorgeous black dress she's in now. Black looks good on her, but the frustration on her face clashes and brings you back to focusing. "//Overturned!// Overturned!?" She exclaims, laughing spitefully, each cold laugh bringing the wind to blow behind you, pushing you forward until you've caught up with her. "The nerve of some people...This day continues to prove increasingly dizzying."
You follow her ever-onward, to some unknowable destination, and you slowly realize you're power-walking in circles around campus. This really has her worked up... "Do you wanna talk about it?" You ask, since it seems like she really, //really// does. She pauses, sighs, and nods. "Of course I do, $name. That's why I'm talking about it. I just regret making it your problem as well. This should be a distraction for both of us, not a time for us to dwell on the rest of the day."
She's extremely good at dividing the day into tiny segments divorced from one another, but you sure as hell aren't. That's some emotional mastery power you don't have. "That might work for you, but it doesn't work for me. If you want to talk, talk. Bottling it up is just making it really windy." You say, catching yourself as the wind batters you some more. Syllyvana blinks slowly, clicks her tongue, and seems to calm the winds immensely.
"...My apologies. I didn't realize." The fine elf finally sits on a bench, by a very nice fountain. She takes a moment to adjust her dress, apparently considering the possibility that she may have been upskirting herself unconsciously. You sit next to her and adjust your own invisible dress. She looks at you curiously, but says nothing. "So. What happened today?" You ask, bracing.
The wind doesn't pick up as she collects herself, so you unbrace. "After my morning shower, and a light study, I sent my brother a text to ensure he'd show up to the cafe. Well, you know how that ended up. I met you, that was...interesting. A welcome respite, I suppose." She offers a smile, before it fades as she continues. "I got to class not too long after that breakfast, that was standard fare, though my brother was absent even there...on the first day of the year."
A lot of this is her brother so far. "A couple of classes and some further studying later, and I had lunch. <<if $SyllLunch is true>>You were there, too, which is an amusing pattern today. Preferable to the usual, somewhat.<<else>>It was largely uneventful, though the others //insist// on talking about me when they believe I'm not listening.<</if>> With lunch out of the way, I had to tend to fratrority business, testing some of the new pledges, focusing on my studies, doing what busywork they dole out at the start of the year..." That change in her tone means the real stuff's coming soon.
Syllyvana peers to you, eyes somewhat agitated behind those glasses of hers. "The carefully elected council of representatives that help run Zeta Zeta Zeta decided that they were //overturning// the requirement that there be three leaders. They want to be more like the ''other'' houses in structure...it's going to be a vote, which means the single //worst// candidate is going to win. They wouldn't change their mind when I informed them. I even took the liberty of running statistics, it doesn't work in our favor 8 out of 10 times."
She sighs, and looks at a fat duck waddling by the fountain. "...Their decision was final. They won't listen to reason, which is the single most aggrevating outcome possible. These are meant to be my peers, they're meant to be the best of the best, why can't they see..." Syllyvana puts a hand under her chin, and a small pile of oats conjures before the duck, who eats powerfully.
[[Try to comfort her in these trying times.|SyllEve2]]"Well...those 2 out of 10 times, something like that could happen instead, right?" You ask, patting her on the shoulder reassuringly. Syllyvana peers toward you, clearly doubtful, but nodding regardless. "In theory. That's still a 20/80 bet, and I just hate leaving things up to the whims of random chance...Though...I was only accounting for what would happen in a perfect environment..." The elf pauses, clearly thinking. "But you were shocked by the leadership, this isn't the perfect environment you would've-"
She hugs you, for a moment, before pulling away. "Yes, that's exactly right! I was overestimating those in charge, and those in ZZZ. If they don't wish to act rationally, then...anything could happen, if someone just sways them properly...I should run for president!" The elf girl looks positively radiant in that moment, excited to have come to this conclusion, but it fades quickly as she adjusts her glasses.
"Yes. Right...I'll run for president. I'll need to assemble a team, naturally..." She starts to drift off into her own world of logistical planning, but is drawn back as she looks over to you. "...Would you like to be on that team?" That's an odd question, since you're not nearly smart enough or enough of a charisma-monster to help someone become president in the nerd-house. You nod, she probably has her reasons. "Sure. What should I do?"
"Well, I need someone to bounce ideas off of, to listen to my stresses, and to help me come to incredible conclusions as you've done here...Your wildly different worldview and life experience certainly makes this //unique,// but perhaps that's a boon?" She conjuers a notepad from thin air, and begins to write on it. '$name - Political Confidant' is written down, below huge letters detailing that this is the ''SYLLYVANA PRESIDENT SUCCESS TEAM''.
"...Right, yes, thank you. I feel much better about this irrational day already. Now, shall we eat something?" She asks, and you nod eagerly. Boy, you hope beyond hopes that you're going to the same campus cafe you met at, because eating the exact same lasagna would probably be even nicer the second time. "What're you in the mood for, $name?" She asks, and your heart skips a beat. "I really, ''really'' want to go to that place we met at, if it's even still open."
The pretty pale elf seems to check her phone, which is also summoned from thin air, before nodding. When she drops it, it disappears. "We can make it in time, hold tight." She extends her hand, and you stare blankly, which prompts her to just grab your hand herself. Her hand is rather soft, but you can't focus on the hand-holding very much in the face of the horrifying blurry hellscape you're suddenly in. Only you and Syllyvana seem to be in focus, everything else is blurred and strange.
She just walks as if this is totally normal, holding tight onto you, so you go along with her. There's no sound here, no temperature, nothing but a mocking version of the world. After but a dozen steps, you're back to a less nightmarish form of reality, suddenly outside of the cafe. You blink a few times, having to fight back a strange magic-induced whiplash. "That was-" You wheeze as it really hits you, but recover in time. "...cool." You say, not tempting fate. You kneel, holding onto your knees as if they could save you.
[[Recover.|SyllEve3]]"Thank you. A complex spell, but //very// useful. Less harmful to the environment than a vehicle, too, but that's neither here nor there." Syllyvana pats you on the shoulder awkwardly, in the same way you did to her earlier. That attempt at reassurance seems to work wonders, as you stand tall once more. The door opens itself for you, glowing a dull yellow, as Syllyvana stands there and waits. "After you." She states, politely.
The cafe looks even better than the last time you were here, with its occasionally flickering lights acting as a beacon against the cool darkness outside. Syllyvana enters after you, emerging from the darkness in that beautiful black dress, as if she'd taken some small part of the night in with her. Much to your dismay, you cannot spot Celci the gnomish waitress ''anywhere.'' Syllyvana sits at the same table you joined her at originally, and with a slight smile, assumes the same position she was in when you first met.
You blink, look around, and check your phone to make sure you haven't entered some sickening timeloop, but you see no proof of such. You join her at the table, and say hello. "Hi, I'm $name. I'm...new here, and we have never met before. Do you want to flirt or talk about school or yourself?" You ask, eloquently, playing along. She raises an eyebrow. "Are those the conversational options you always decide between when talking to people?" You shrug, and she motions politely over to the waitstaff. Some lesser non-gnomish waiter approaches, and sets two menus down in front of you.
Someone has put, in big bold letters, ''NOT BREAKFAST'' above the lasagna that you instantly turn to look at. Syllyvana seems to peer over to look at your menu, before saying, "I do respect committing to the joke, but I'll be eating something larger than assorted fruit, so if you don't //really// want lasagna, don't do it just for consistency with breakfast." She thinks you're looking at the incredible lasagna //solely// as a joke!? How silly. She does raise a good point, though, there are many things on this menu to enjoy...
"What're you getting?" You ask her, as the waiter places two glasses of water down, one in front of each of you. He's out of your hair just as quietly. "Hm...something with chicken, it's what my heart is saying right now...likely this." She says, showing you her menu, whilst pointing at 'Grilled Chicken & Vegetables', which has a pretty picture of some delicious fried bird-meat and well-seasoned colorful chunks of vegetable. You nod, stealing her order for your own.
"Ready to order, folks?" You're eventually asked, after pretending to look at the menu for far longer. Both of you nod, and Syllyvana motions for you to go first. "Grilled Chicken Ampersand Vegetables." You say, which causes the waiter to think, before nodding. Syllyvana seems to smirk gently at that order, before ordering, "I'll try...//the lasagna//." She hands your menus to the waiter, then steeples her fingers powerfully. Holy shit, you've been ''had.''
[[Come to terms with this five-dimensional chess game you've landed in the middle of.|SyllEve4]]With the waiter gone, and the kitchen loud with the sound of cooking and delirious late-shift singing, you peer at Syllyvana powerfully. "You tricked me!" You exclaim, and she covers her mouth while giggling gently. "Yes, I did, didn't I? That wasn't very kind of me, I suppose, but we're both quick-thinkers, we'll figure something out." She sips her water, and you sip yours in response. "...If it upsets you too greatly, we can just..." She leans forward, whispering, //"Swap plates."//
The cute nerd-elf looks around carefully after whispering that, to make sure no-one overheard that forbidden suggestion. Her fingers return to being steepled, she's running these negotiations and you're just doing your best to stay afloat. "Yeah, alright." You say, meeting her gaze. "Lovely." She responds with a pretty smile. Now that the negotiations have ended, she moves her hand beneath her chin again, peering at you curiously.
<<set $SyllEve to true>>
"...So, where are you from?" She asks, and you clear your throat, before unconvincingly saying, "Weast-Wald." Not even you believe that. Syllyvana nods slowly, and conjures that same notepad from thin air, writing effortlessly on it without having to break her gaze from you. "M-hm...Did you notice that you tend to deflect or sweat when talking about the self?" You slowly shake your head, not really. "That makes sense. I noticed that you do a lot of, well, mirroring."
You look at her hand as it writes, then down at yours which was unconsciously going through the same motions. "Yeah, I guess I do. Are these questions...going somewhere?" You ask, and she nods. "Yes, they are. Like most questions I ask, I'm posing these to try to better understand something. In this case...You. There's something odd about you, I'm not entirely sure what it is. You defy social understanding, are oddly impressed with even the simplest of magic...not to mention that for some strange reason you've decided to spend an evening with me."
Oh. You can't //really// tell her the entire truth, but you're pretty sure you talking with her is unrelated to you coming from another world with the help of an eldritch horror. Her eyes watch as you think and calculate, she can tell that you're about to lie, the truth doesn't take this long. "I...can't really answer that. Most of that. But, I'm talking with you, because..."
[[I like you.|SyllEveLike]]
[[I have free will.|SyllEveWill]]"I like you. Like in an attraction way. And as a...person I'd like to talk to, but...yeah. Mostly, I think I like you." You say, sipping water rapidly afterwards. Syllyvana seems to pause entirely, staring at her notepad for a long moment, yet eventually recovering all the same. "Ah. I see." She says simply. "Yes, I suppose that would make sense. You...like me, so you came over tonight to have a sort of date. Perhaps clever not telling me beforehand, what if I said no?" She taps her chin with the handle of her fork.
"You understand that we're entirely strangers, yes? How were you hoping this would go? You certainly didn't know I'd need emotional support tonight, no, that was simply you acting out of...kindness, or something similar." She chews a vegetable then swallows. "...someone more cynical than I am would accuse you of trying to leverage that emotional goodwill into something more." The calculating elf doesn't follow up on that, sipping water herself now.
"But, I suppose, since we're already working together now..." Her blue eyes gaze into your own, despite part of you wishing to look away, lest she somehow understand all of you. "...It could be worth a test or two. one of those...'dates' that normal people have. It will be good for morale, and could double as a time to discuss my campaign. Is that agreeable?" Syllyvana asks you, and you think. "Does that make us...more than friends?"
"No. Not in the strictest of terms. Not everyone you go on a single date with is your boyfriend or girlfriend. And I'm not going to lead you on, this likely won't go anywhere meaningful, but you seem like a decent person...the proper term is friend, for now." Syllyvana slices into her chicken, awaiting anything further from you. You can't think of much else that isn't already relatively answered. She'd probably be confused if you said 'friends with benefits', since that clearly isn't the kind of person she is.
All the same, this is the start of...something. A partnership of some kind or another. The two of you eat, and you'd be content to just quietly eat and take what victories you can get, but she begins to talk again. "So. Your eyes, they're...nice." She says as if it were a test. After a pause, she nods slowly, and says, "And you're a very attentive dinner partner." That one comes out more confidently, and she smiles awkwardly after saying it. It's...extremely cute, and clearly something she doesn't practice often.
"You have a really cute smile." You reply, and she seems to take notes in response, no longer peering at you at all for a few moments. "I see. Thank you." You build yourself back up, and say, "And that dress looks...it, compliments you, very well." You decide against telling her that she looks hot in that dress, and use slightly more...refined words. She doesn't write anything down, instead lifting your chin to meet her gaze with magic.
"What did you want to say instead?" She asks, and you clear your throat. She should stop contradicting the narration. Relationships are built on truth, or teeth, or...something. You don't have any spare teeth to offer her, so... "I wanted to say, that you're...very hot, in that black dress. It's like...the night, wrapped around the moon, when against your pretty, pale form." An oddly beautiful way to describe it, coming from you.
She blushes profusely, then laughs a bit. "Hahah! Okay. That's enough, spare me any further thoughts on my...dress." Syllyvana leaves way more money than the bill says on the table, before quickly standing and walking to the door. "Yes, this was, fun, but," The door opens when she motions toward it, which glows a dull pink all over. "I've really got to go, it's late, you know?" She accidentally rhymes, and you scramble up as well, following her.
<<set $SyllAff to $SyllAff + 2>>
"You're acting //super// differently, was it the dress stuff?" You ask, and she taps her side. "No. Well," She inhales deeply, then exhales, "Yes. You flustered me. If you were...cooking an egg, or...making soup? Yes, making soup. And you turned the heat all the way to ten...the soup would boil over, and splash everywhere. Perhaps it'd cook faster, but, then...you've made it all messy, and generally speaking, the soup's made worse for having done so." That's a slightly strange comparison, but you think you can follow.
<<set $SyllDate to true>>
"So...too much, too soon?" You ask, and she nods. "Yes. Too much, too soon. I asked, of course, so you aren't //really// to blame for sharing." The two of you stand like that, just outside of the cafe, in relative quiet. Syllyvana turns away, and begins to walk. You turn away, and do the same, thinking. "I liked hearing it." She says, before the both of you are too far to hear. "I'll...ask again, some time."
"See you later, Syllyvana." You say, turning back, and you see her looking back at you as well. As your eyes meet, it's her that breaks first, waving politely, and casting something. In an instant, she's gone. You head back to your room, and collapse onto bed. Rozzwell's missing, but the note he left says he's just sleeping elsewhere tonight. Your future with Syllyvana is sure to be...interesting, if it continues like this.
It takes little effort, soon enough, it's time to [[Fall Asleep.|EndOfPrologue]]"...I have free will. I mean, I'd probably have talked with anyone if I saw them, sometimes I have to actively fight against talking to random people I see walking around. I just like talking with people, and you're people, so, I talk with you." You explain, but she pauses her writing. "Ah, but it can't be a simple matter of //just liking to talk,// because you could have done that from your dorm. Yet you chose //me in specific,// I find that curious."
You shrug. "I don't really have a reason for everything I do, I'm not as...logic-centric as you are. I called you because I felt like it, don't read into that too deeply, because there's nothing deep about it." That seems to put her curious gaze to rest for now, as she puts the notepad away. "Alright, yes...thank you for helping me to understand your thought process." She relaxes, and informs you, "You have made this evening far better than it'd otherwise be, I look forward to our partnership."
<<set $SyllAff to $SyllAff + 1>>
You nod stiffly, and shake her hand over the table, having to awkwardly reach past the two glasses between you. Not too terribly long afterwards, you're met with a plate of //chicken and vegetables,// while your one true love, lasagna, sits in front of Syllyvana. Once the waiter's walked away, she slyly swaps the plates with a wave of her hand. This kindness would be enough to bring a lesser man to tears, but not you, not now, now you eat.
"...And you had no trouble with Professor Sagax?" She asks, as the two of you talk. "Oh, he was weird, and mean, and he gave us an assignment early, apparently? But he doesn't seem to have anything against me in particular." The blonde nods swiftly, swallowing some delicious vegetable or another. "Yes, he's certainly a big hurdle for anyone starting out, but try to impress him! He's likely dying for some intellectual stimulation, he's one of the most brilliant magical minds currently alive."
"I don't really think I'm the guy to impress him." You specify, shrugging. "There's ZZZ Initiates in that class, and even they can't really make a dent in his...uh, mood." You say, sipping water noisily. She taps her chin for a moment, before nodding. "Yes, it is a shame they've got him teaching starter classes." The two of you discuss her potential presidency over ZZZ, it appears that she'll heavily favor the academic side of things, while letting the athletes handle themselves.
Eventually you've finished eating, and it's time to pay and part ways anew. She handles paying for it, even when you reach into your pocket out of reflex. After a few minutes more of discussing your plans, she stands, and heads to the door. You stand and follow her outside, into the night. "Until next time, $name." She says while holding the door open for you. "You too." You reply, and soon enough, the two of you head seperate ways.
When you've reached your dorm again, it's quiet, dark, and Rozzwell's nowhere to be seen. He's left a note assuring you that he's fine, just sleeping elsewhere tonight, so that's good at least. With a yawn, you lay down, and soon enough...
[[Fall asleep.|EndOfPrologue]]Apparently your name alone isn't enough to proceed. It wants a code, sent to your email #######aitl@youmail.com. You don't have a code, but it seems to fill itself in character by character. The cursor moves itself to the site's URL, and clicks. Inky black text fills the address bar, replacing the website's name.
''HELLO. AGAIN. SOON I WILL MAKE MY FIRST PLAY. BEST OF LUCK. THIS IS SURE TO BE FUN.''
You wrest control of the cursor back, and click the login button, which seems to have freed you from ''No-Name'''s typing. You'll take the journal's advice, you won't give him the power over you that he clearly wants. You're just on this laptop to check your schedule. Nothing more.
And you find it, easily. You take a photo of it with your phone, to avoid doing this in the future, and burn the class names and rooms into your brain. ''Introduction to Arcanism'', ''Mundane Math'', ''Esoteric English'', ''Magical History 1'', ''Mystic Anthropology'', and ''Introduction to Spell Design''.
Your teachers will apparently be: Jerri Sagax, Nathidesh Strodev, Tathalan Beibelar, Omni-Modos, and Idemay Roseglove. Apparently Professor Sagax teaches both Arcanism and Spell Design. Also, //somehow,// you haven't missed a class yet. You do have one coming up in an hour, however, so...
"Oh!" You exclaim, looking around rapidly for a map. You fish around rapidly through your pockets for ''Hilx's Campus Map'', before closing the laptop to sever yourself from ''THE INTERNET''. That help desk really ''did'' help you! You have the place, the teacher, and the time, now to actually //get// there. "Thanks for letting me use your lapt top, Rozz. I think I need to get to class..."
He nods, then motions toward the door. "...well you should get going, then, yeah?"
[[Yeah.|ReachClass0]]Who knew a page could take this long to change? The campus website shows various generic smiling people, until you scroll far enough, at which point you can see sliding pictures detailing the various fratrorities. These people look far //less// generic, and are likely useful people to know about...
''BETA ALPHA DELTA'', where "Family Comes First". There's images of very joyous, probably buzzed fellows and ladies smiling in a huge group photo. It's like one big, inebriated family. Some of them wear swanky looking jackets, and that big mansion in the background must be their house. Apparently the president's named Miller, and you can see him being propped up on the shoulders of a shirtless fellow that the photo caught mid-cheer.
''ZETA ZETA ZETA'', where the members "Never Sleep Until Completion", which sounds...interesting. There's images of sport teams, nerd-flocks, and soulless business majors. One photo has all three of these groups, in their respective attire, standing on a positively //well-kept// lawn. You can see Syllyvana, the cute nerd-elf, in the background of one of these shots. There are three delegates that run ZZZ, apparently. An athlete, a nerd, and a business major. They pose powerfully next to each other in one photo.
''KAPPA EPSILON KAPPA'', whose motto is just "We Win". There's images of all sorts of guys and gals, each one wearing a wide assortment of outfits for different activities. Several of them are playing instruments //while// throwing a sporting ball. You can see a beautiful blonde-haired woman with a tan in ''every'' one of these photos, sometimes in the background, always staring directly into the camera. She's the Queen of KEK, named Checkers, which explains the macaroni crown she's wearing. It has multi-colored macaroni acting as the gems in this crown.
''ALPHA KAPPA TAU'', which has "Bonds Stronger Than Brass". Their photos have beautiful art on display, dramatic divas in costume, and a big room just //full// of sexy instruments for all to see. Most photos of the people in this house take place on their lawn, which looks smaller than ZZZ's. The current president is the upbeat Nedallia, who looks like she's having fun with everyone in these photos. Apparently they're 'always accepting new recruits'.
''CHI OMICRON CHI'', which claims that "Together We Rise". Looking at these photos feels like you're looking at some demented themed pin-up calander. There's only attractive women on display, always wearing purple, often wearing too-short skirts, and usually posed suggestively. This is allowed on a college website? The current president is named Su, and you can't really figure out who that's meant to be in any of these pictures. From what little you see of their house, it seems to have large stain-glass windows, depicting grails, birds, and water flowing.
[[Try your best to remember any of this later as the site finally finishes loading.|CheckClassesExit]]You pose like a cool-person. "I'll juggle, I can totally do that. Where's the juggle-devices?" You query, staring at the clown-girl patiently. Marbles taps her clown-white chin a few times, seeming to look around. "Hmmm..." She offers, until, suddenly, a lantern hanging from some electrical wire lights up high above her head. You stare dumbfounded at the lantern in question, that has to be a fire hazard. The clown does not focus on that, instead hurrying over to a table with paper plates and assorted party snacks.
She returns with seven paper plates, clapping her gloved hands around the stack ''hard.'' You have no idea where she's stored that hand puppet, but it's gone. When her hands part, the plates have magically turned to ceramic ones. "That seems like a really niche spell." You say, and Marbles nods. "Oh, super niche. I try to use it whenever I get the chance." The clown tosses one plate into your hand, and you catch it carefully. You probably aren't going to have much time to contemplate the use cases of a paper to ceramic spell right now.
<<if $Swords >= 3>>You toss the first plate into the air, and catch it with your other hand. Easy enough. Marbles adds two more plates into the mix shockingly quickly, but you keep up decently enough. This requires constant motion, where with just one you could pause if you needed to. You can hear HONKing noises each time she bounces in excitement, there's got to be something in those insane shoes she wears. Your distraction nearly proves your downfall as she tosses the next plate at you. Four plates is quite a bit harder than three, you're starting to sweat.
The bouncy clown applauds gently, turning the plates in her hand from ceramic to paper to ceramic again. "Is that a thing that's just always active for you?" You ask, trying not to focus on the building anxiety of waiting for the last three plates. She shrugs. "I'm not really sure?" The next plate is added to the mix, and you stumble a bit since she caught you off-guard. "Magic's about, the brain, or something, I think...if I associate clapping my hands with plate-magic, is plate-magic gonna happen every time I clap? It //seems// to, but, confirmation bias probably just solidified that happening, right?"
You don't hold the exact answers right now, you're having to recover from stumbling. She offers no kindness at your greatest moment of weakness yet, however, as the second to final plate is thrown at you. You aren't able to talk or think about anything but the plates now, anything else would make this barely functional system collapse in an instant. That's poetic, in a deep sort of way. The final plate hits you in the chest, and everything comes crashing down around you.
Shards of ceramic shrapnel fly every which way as you regain your sanity and capacity for focus. Clown Plate Magic is dangerous indeed, you deem, having narrowly dodged out of the way of a ''lot'' of pointy plate bits. Marbles punches the air, cheering and laughing wildly. She applauds anew, and the ceramic turns to paper again, still torn up and in shards only ceramic could break into. Neat. You wipe the sweat from your brow, and smile at her. "How was that?" You ask with a smile.
"Good! Really, //really// good! You tripped right at the finish line, it was hilarious!" Marbles walks up to you, smiling right back. She puts her gloves on both of your shoulders, whispering into your ear. //"Good enough for some fun in my car, if you're game, funny fellow."// She pulls back with a wink, swaying her hips in a remarkably sexy manner for a clown to do. Marbles might not be top-heavy at all, but she is bottom-heavy...
[[Follow the clown-girl, you've come this far.|ClownCarFun]]<<elseif $Cups >= 3>>You throw the first plate into the air, and stumble left and right, barely managing to catch it. This is going well so far. You motion for Marbles to throw more to you, and she does so. You catch the second plate, then have to start juggling properly to add the third into the mix. This requires constant motion, where with just one you could pause if you needed to. You can hear HONKing noises each time she bounces in excitement, there's got to be something in those insane shoes she wears. Your distraction nearly proves your downfall as she tosses the next plate at you. Four plates is quite a bit harder than three, you're starting to sweat.
The bouncy clown applauds gently, turning the plates in her hand from ceramic to paper to ceramic again. "Is that a thing that's just always active for you?" You ask, trying not to focus on the building anxiety of waiting for the last three plates. She shrugs. "I'm not really sure?" The next plate is thrown at you, and you stumble a bit since she caught you off-guard. "Magic's about, the brain, or something, I think...if I associate clapping my hands with plate-magic, is plate-magic gonna happen every time I clap? It //seems// to, but, confirmation bias probably just solidified that happening, right?"
You're no expert on the dark mysticism of plateomancy, and offer a simple shrug despite the circumstances making that kind of movement quite dangerous. She offers no kindness at your greatest moment of weakness yet, however, as the second to final plate is thrown at you. You aren't able to talk or think about anything but the plates now, anything else would make this barely functional system collapse in an instant. That's poetic, in a deep sort of way. The final plate hits you in the chest, and everything comes crashing down around you.
Rather than the loud iconic noise of shattering ceramic, you're met by an amazed gaze from the clown herself. You look around, and are equally amazed to see that the plates have somehow landed in a perfectly intact stack next to you. That defies logic, but there's no time to dwell on that with Marbles skipping over to you. "That was amazing! You flubbed it right at the end, which was hilarious, but then you did...that! Somehow!" She exclaims excitedly, pointing right at the stack over and over.
It isn't meant to last, as a crack perfectly down the middle of the stack splits them all in half right that instant. "So cool." She says, chuckling. "Cool enough to earn you some //private time// in my //car.//" She winks, before turning the now hazardous ceramic plate halves into paper again. With that taken care of, the bottom-heavy clown-girl turns on her heels, swaying her hips semi-seductively as she heads toward her distant car.
[[Follow that clown.|ClownCarFun]]<<else>>You experimentally throw the first plate into the air, having to hurl your entire body to the right to catch it before it hits the ground. This is something you're sure to be good at. Marbles gives you no time to practice further, as the second and third plate are soon upon you. You catch the second, then begin juggling properly as the third's involved. If it were //just// these three, you might stand a chance, but based on that clownish look in Marbles' eyes, your time is limited.
She bounces in excitement, each bounce punctuated with a ''HONK'' from an unknowable source. You're distracted too long by how cute she looks when she's excited, and soon all three plates shatter noisily on the ground. "Aww..." She says, approaching you while you desperately avoid ceramic shrapnel that's flying everywhere. The clown turns your failed juggling plates back to paper, then throws her not-yet-paper plates out of frame, where you hear them shatter.
She pats your shoulder reassuringly a few times, smiling gently. "You did really good for a first-timer! I bet if you practiced, you might even pick up some clown-chicks." Marbles kisses you on the cheek gently, before pulling away. "Like you?" You ask, and she laughs. "Oh, yeah, like me! But definitely not right now, you haven't done the whole practicing thing yet. I'm talking a total training montage!" She turns away from you, scooping up the paper plate shards that litter the grass now. You're fairly sure that she's going to use that to make confetti.
[[Take your loss in stride, and return to the party at large.|Party01]]<</if>>You stand like a normal human being. "Yeah, alright, let's juggle. What do I juggle with?" You query, staring at the clown-girl patiently. Marbles taps her clown-white chin a few times, seeming to look around. "Hmmm..." She offers, until, suddenly, a lantern hanging from some electrical wire lights up high above her head. You stare dumbfounded at the lantern in question, that has to be a fire hazard. The clown does not focus on that, instead hurrying over to a table with paper plates and assorted party snacks.
She returns with seven paper plates, clapping her gloved hands around the stack ''hard.'' You have no idea where she's stored that hand puppet, but it's gone. When her hands part, the plates have magically turned to ceramic ones. "That seems like a really niche spell." You say, and Marbles nods. "Oh, super niche. I try to use it whenever I get the chance." The clown tosses one plate into your hand, and you catch it carefully. You probably aren't going to have much time to contemplate the use cases of a paper to ceramic spell right now.
<<if $Swords >= 3>>You toss the first plate into the air, and catch it with your other hand. Easy enough. Marbles adds two more plates into the mix shockingly quickly, but you keep up decently enough. This requires constant motion, where with just one you could pause if you needed to. You can hear HONKing noises each time she bounces in excitement, there's got to be something in those insane shoes she wears. Your distraction nearly proves your downfall as she tosses the next plate at you. Four plates is quite a bit harder than three, you're starting to sweat.
The bouncy clown applauds gently, turning the plates in her hand from ceramic to paper to ceramic again. "Is that a thing that's just always active for you?" You ask, trying not to focus on the building anxiety of waiting for the last three plates. She shrugs. "I'm not really sure?" The next plate is added to the mix, and you stumble a bit since she caught you off-guard. "Magic's about, the brain, or something, I think...if I associate clapping my hands with plate-magic, is plate-magic gonna happen every time I clap? It //seems// to, but, confirmation bias probably just solidified that happening, right?"
You don't hold the exact answers right now, you're having to recover from stumbling. She offers no kindness at your greatest moment of weakness yet, however, as the second to final plate is thrown at you. You aren't able to talk or think about anything but the plates now, anything else would make this barely functional system collapse in an instant. That's poetic, in a deep sort of way. The final plate hits you in the chest, and everything comes crashing down around you.
Shards of ceramic shrapnel fly every which way as you regain your sanity and capacity for focus. Clown Plate Magic is dangerous indeed, you deem, having narrowly dodged out of the way of a ''lot'' of pointy plate bits. Marbles punches the air, cheering and laughing wildly. She applauds anew, and the ceramic turns to paper again, still torn up and in shards only ceramic could break into. Neat. You wipe the sweat from your brow, and smile at her. "How was that?" You ask with a smile.
"Good! Really, //really// good! You tripped right at the finish line, it was hilarious!" Marbles walks up to you, smiling right back. She puts her gloves on both of your shoulders, whispering into your ear. //"Good enough for some fun in my car, if you're game, funny fellow."// She pulls back with a wink, swaying her hips in a remarkably sexy manner for a clown to do. Marbles might not be top-heavy at all, but she is bottom-heavy...
[[Follow the clown-girl, you've come this far.|ClownCarFun]]<<elseif $Cups >= 3>>You throw the first plate into the air, and stumble left and right, barely managing to catch it. This is going well so far. You motion for Marbles to throw more to you, and she does so. You catch the second plate, then have to start juggling properly to add the third into the mix. This requires constant motion, where with just one you could pause if you needed to. You can hear HONKing noises each time she bounces in excitement, there's got to be something in those insane shoes she wears. Your distraction nearly proves your downfall as she tosses the next plate at you. Four plates is quite a bit harder than three, you're starting to sweat.
The bouncy clown applauds gently, turning the plates in her hand from ceramic to paper to ceramic again. "Is that a thing that's just always active for you?" You ask, trying not to focus on the building anxiety of waiting for the last three plates. She shrugs. "I'm not really sure?" The next plate is thrown at you, and you stumble a bit since she caught you off-guard. "Magic's about, the brain, or something, I think...if I associate clapping my hands with plate-magic, is plate-magic gonna happen every time I clap? It //seems// to, but, confirmation bias probably just solidified that happening, right?"
You're no expert on the dark mysticism of plateomancy, and offer a simple shrug despite the circumstances making that kind of movement quite dangerous. She offers no kindness at your greatest moment of weakness yet, however, as the second to final plate is thrown at you. You aren't able to talk or think about anything but the plates now, anything else would make this barely functional system collapse in an instant. That's poetic, in a deep sort of way. The final plate hits you in the chest, and everything comes crashing down around you.
Rather than the loud iconic noise of shattering ceramic, you're met by an amazed gaze from the clown herself. You look around, and are amazed to see that the plates have somehow landed in a perfectly intact stack next to you. That defies logic, but there's no time to dwell on that, with Marbles skipping over to you. "That was amazing! You flubbed it right at the end, which was hilarious, but then you did...that! Somehow!" She exclaims excitedly, motioning her gloved hands right at the stack.
It isn't meant to last, as a crack perfectly down the middle of the stack splits them all in half right that instant. "So cool." She says, chuckling. "Cool enough to earn you some //private time// in my //car.//" She winks, before turning the now hazardous ceramic plate halves into paper again. With that taken care of, the bottom-heavy clown-girl turns on her heels, swaying her hips semi-seductively as she heads toward her distant car.
[[Follow that clown.|ClownCarFun]]<<else>>You experimentally throw the first plate into the air, having to hurl your entire body to the right to catch it before it hits the ground. This is something you're sure to be good at. Marbles gives you no time to practice further, as the second and third plate are soon upon you. You catch the second, then begin juggling properly as the third's involved. If it were //just// these three, you might stand a chance, but based on that clownish look in Marbles' eyes, your time is limited.
She bounces in excitement, each bounce punctuated with a ''HONK'' from an unknowable source. You're distracted too long by how cute she looks when she's excited, and soon all three plates shatter noisily on the ground. "Aww..." She says, approaching you while you desperately avoid ceramic shrapnel that's flying everywhere. The clown turns your failed juggling plates back to paper, then throws her not-yet-paper plates out of frame, where you hear them shatter.
She pats your shoulder reassuringly a few times, smiling gently. "You did really good for a first-timer! I bet if you practiced, you might even pick up some clown-chicks." Marbles kisses you on the cheek gently, before pulling away. "Like you?" You ask, and she laughs. "Oh, yeah, like me! But definitely not right now, you haven't done the whole practicing thing yet. I'm talking a total training montage!" She turns away from you, scooping up the paper plate shards that litter the grass now. You're fairly sure that she's going to use that to make confetti.
[[Take your loss in stride, and return to the party at large.|Party01]]<</if>>"Sorry, but I have zero interest in juggling." You say, which seems to crush the clown-girl's spirit somewhat. She fidgets in place ambiently for a moment, before shrugging. "Uh...alright! Not in a clowning around mood right now, that's fine. Next time, maybe." She gets back onto her unicycle, face straight for once, the girl's clearly in deep thought. You scratch the back of your head, that went well.
<<if $PartyProgressValue !== true>>[[Return to party.|Party01]]<<else>>[[Return to party.|Party02]]<</if>>You follow the swaying clown-girl through crowd and grass alike, until you've eventually reached the apparent designated parking area. There's no lot, or parking spaces, everyone just collectively decided to park in this section of grass a decent jog away from the pavilion. It doesn't take a genius to guess which car is Marbles', considering only one of them is a gaudy pink clown car. She produces a pair of keys from within her bra, unlocking that majestic vehicle from range. The clown car makes a simple ''HONK'' when this happens.
<<set $SexValue to $SexValue + 1>>
She opens the passenger side door for you, and you head on in. It's just as small inside as it looked outside, you could fit maybe ten to twelve clowns in here, but since you are not of clown-kind, you just sit in one of the two existing seats. Marbles enters through the same door as you, closing it behind her. There's not a lot of space in here, her back has to kind of slouch and press against the ceiling. At least at first, until she pulls the cartoonish lever attached to your seat.
<<set $PuppetFucker to true>>
It does not open a trap door as you initially feared, but instead leans your seat back entirely. As you lay, you feel the entire seat move several inches backwards, giving the clown girl's generous ass all the room it needs to sit on the floor in front of your seat. She then pulls the cartoonish lever again, and your seat adjusts back to its previous seat-like position. When you rise high enough to look down at the clown-girl from her newfound spot, you realize a few things.
1: It'd be basically impossible for someone looking through a window to see her where she currently is. You don't know //why// you know that, or why it's relevant, but you do.
2: The sock puppet's back over one of her gloved hands, and it slowly rises to the edge of your seat.
From her shadowy domain, Marbles winks at you. "I hope you're ready for the coolest magic trick ever." She says, wiggling a bit in anticipation. You eye the sock puppet suspiciously, and it eyes you back. The sock puppet unzips your pants with her mouth like a pro. This can't be the weirdest thing to have an erection over, but it's definitely up there. Maybe you're into socks, or maybe this bizarre situation gets to you in a unique and strange way.
There's a bit of adjusting in your seat, since it's somewhat hard for a sock puppet to pull down your pants and underwear. "Do you want some, uh, help?" You start, but the fierce focus in Marbles' eyes as she tries to do this with just the sock puppet answers your question on its own. Eventually Marbles gets impatient, and just pulls your clothes off of you in one swift motion, like some pant-shaped table cloth trick. You clap reactively. Your huge cock twitches and sways, high above Marbles' cock-shocked face, but //perfectly// within reach of sock-Marbles.
//"At last, a worthy challenger for my crazy throat-game. When I'm done with you, you'll shudder every time you put on socks."// The socky slut says seductively, brushing her face against your cockhead slowly. "You talk big game, but you're made of, like...cotton, or whatever socks are made of." You're pretty sure you can see Marbles adjusting her sparkly pink clown outfit with her free hand, before performing that instant clothes removal trick on herself. That seemed far more impressive than when she did it to you, since her outfit isn't split between pants and a shirt, it's just one unit of clown outfit.
[[Give witness to her sexy clown body.|ClownCarFun1]]She's just as pear-built as she appears with clothing on, with rather small breasts and a glorious clown-white ass you can barely see from this angle, which should be a war crime. She lacks her bra right now, presumably it lays in the disorganized pile of clothing in the driver's seat. Yet, for reasons unknowable, she left her polkadot panties on. The huge wet spot around her crotch only serves to turn you on further. Marbles' mouth moves with no words coming out for a moment, and you're fairly sure a spell of some kind was just cast.
Sock-Marbles kisses the tip of your penis a few times, staining her face with pre-cum. It feels less good than an actual person's lips would, and she probably knows that. //"Enough play-time, huh? Watch as I make this big fat monster-cock disappear."// She says, opening her sock-mouth, but instead of feeling like cloth and hitting someone's hand, you feel the inside of a mouth, which makes you jump a bit. "What the fuck?" You ask no-one in particular, as the puppet's very real feeling tongue runs circles around your tip.
You start to move in your seat, to try to check the sock-woman's mouth up-close, but you're stopped dead in your tracks when she fully throats your length, pressing her socky face against your groin. The wet, hot warmth of her throat makes you shudder, and your breath grow uneven. When you re-focus, you look down to Marbles, who looks rather busy touching herself beneath her panties while watching you get sucked off by a sock. Sock-Marbles holds still for a moment, but not long.
"This is...not a traditional threesome." You manage to say, before your eyes roll back as the sock //rapidly// throat-fucks herself. An ordinary lover would probably get spit everywhere right now, but the only spit involved is purely inside of her amazing mouth. She makes a few exaggerated //GLLK GLLLK GLLLK// noises while moving like a blur along your cock. Part of you does //not// want to be this helpless against a literal sock, so you take control how you can, by grabbing her little head with one hand.
Those googly eyes look up at you with lust, as if taunting you to take control. You do so, lifting her mouth almost entirely off of your length, which is indeed soaking wet from her efforts. You hold her there, but your plan's quickly thrown off-track when her tongue gets right back to work lapping around your tip, and those lewd //SLURRRRRRP//ing sounds she's making while gulping your pre-cum certainly doesn't make things easier. You're about ten seconds away from face-fucking a sock to prove your might as a lover, but you see movement outside.
You wheeze, and freeze in place, "Person outside." You manage, trying to think of how the fuck you can possibly hide in such a tight car. Marbles just flips the lever again, resulting in you laying flat on your back anew. That...helps somewhat, unless that someone happens to look through the front window. Sock-Marbles pulls her mouth off of your cock in that transient time where your seat is adjusting, allowing the three of you to look at her handiwork.
"Wow, she worked you over pretty good, you look pretty close..." Marbles says, getting on her knees as to bend closer to your crotch. "Cool trick though, right?" She asks, and you nod, panting, trying to keep on your guard in case someone looks inside, or in case the puppet tries something. The two of you exchange glances, //"You can't get enough of me and you know it."// Sock-Marbles says lustfully, but Flesh-Marbles manages to push her socky counterpart out of the way before she can ruin you any further. When her hands come back into frame, the puppet is gone, replaced by an ordinary white glove.
"She didn't come on too strong, did she?" Marbles asks, blowing air on your cock as if it were a birthday candle. You shake your head rapidly. "Nope. No. Not at all. Perfect amount of coming onto me. Not a thing to improve." You partly believe those words, that sock was possessed by some kind of throat-fuck spirit or something. Your penis twitches, eager for release. Marbles kisses each of your cum-filled balls once, leaving deep red lipstick behind. "Oh, you must really wanna shoot your pent-up guy-goo, huh?" She asks, weighing them with her hands. You nod eagerly, not focusing too much on her terrible word choices.
Marbles opens up the dashboard, pulling down a weird tube that seems to connect into the car itself in that dashboard. She looks through a small hole in it, and you realize this is some demented car-periscope. You blink confused, do all cars have a periscope? Once she seems satisfied, she puts the periscope away, and crawls overtop you. The clown-clogs stayed on during all of this, you note.
The clown of the hour straddles you, holding your cock close against her stomach and chest, while you stare upward at her in all her glory. "I'm saving my pussy for someone I'm not hooking up with at a party," She explains, "But you and the sun'll have something in common real soon anyways." You don't want to ask, because then she might pause whatever she has planned to explain this extremely specific joke. Marbles grips your cock with one of her cartoonishly sized clown-gloves, using her puppet's spit as lube as she begins to jack you off.
"You'll be making the roof of my car all hot..." She says in a sultry tone. You can hear faint squeaks as her hand slams against your base over and over again, if this was all you had to contend with, you'd last a while yet, but then her right hand goes behind her back, and you shiver with anticipation. //"Miss me, puppet-fucker?"// Is the first thing you hear as her hand comes back into view. Somehow, Puppet-Marbles has returned.
The sock gives her host a certain look of jealousy since she's not the one pumping your dick right now, but finds clarity in noisily gargling your balls. You feel that skilled tongue putting in serious work giving you a crazy tongue-bath, while she lewdly moans and slurps on your fat nuts. No man could hold on under such an onslaught, especially while a cute clown-girl is jacking you off with passion. You groan, tense, and loudly orgasm, thick units of semen launching all the way from your dick onto the roof of the car.
Throughout your orgasm, Puppet-Marbles' efforts only redouble, but her large counterpart more gently and sensually wrings the cum out of you by hand. When you've finally come down from this clown-induced high, Marbles puts the puppet away once more, quickly fishing through her clothes to produce an infinite chain of handkerchiefs. The clown-girl carefully unties around five of them. She wipes the roof of her car with all five of the multi-colored cloths, before throwing them out of your line of sight, gone.
"You cum ''buckets!''" She exclaims. "We could blow up so many balloons with your stuff, if we wanted to..." Marbles trails off, before coming back to reality, and patting you down with another handkerchief. "That puppet is fucking crazy." You say, and she nods. "She's my dominant hand, so, it checks out." You nod in agreement, that ''totally'' explains everything that just happened. You pant a bit, catch your breath, and relax. Marbles chuckles a bit, putting her clothes back on, though the way she positions her back to you while doing so gives you an ''incredible'' view of her fat clown ass.
You do what you were born to do, and smack that big butt. It produces a gentle ''honk'' when you do so, and you laugh like a dumbass. She seems to smile at that as she adjusts her bowtie. "That was //loads// of fun. Well, load singular, but, it was equal to a regular person's plural loads...the joke makes sense, it's just a bit of a thinker." She defends her joke, and you raise your hands defensively, you don't want to see what happens if you make her humor feel threatened. The two of you don't spend much longer in there, and since she's clearly about to open the door, you scramble into your clothing.
"Until next time, $name the Puppet-Fucker!" She says, though the title sounds more like a term of endearment than when Puppet-Marbles called you one. You get out of her car, and <<if $PartyProgressValue !== true>>[[return to party.|Party01]]<<else>>[[return to party.|Party02]]<</if>>"Yeah, alright." You say, which makes Shape chuckle with arousal, hopefully. She looks around rapidly for a moment, nervously, before whispering, //"Call me...call me ''Margarete''..."// Her eyes water a bit when she says that name, as if it physically pains her. Her crying gives you pause, but it stops almost instantly. You nod slowly. "Uh, and, who am...I playing?" You ask, which snaps her out of her Margarete-induced stupor. "You're named...Wallace. You're my first mate." She says.
"Yes, captain, ready for orders." You say, instinctively reaching for something that isn't on your holobelt. You don't have a holobelt, either. In Shape's eyes, you can almost see the sea, and when you look down, you see ship. You are Wallace, first mate to Captain Margarete, dread pirate of The Seas of Folly. Your captain is younger than the usual, and most of those big-wigs in the colonies believe her to be in fact ten captains, using a mere 20-something as their decoy. Margarete has vibrant red hair, and fierce brown eyes, her intimidating attitude is justly earned, as she's won hundreds of duels.
It's late out, during the dark strange hours of night, where few men are awake, and fewer must toil and work above deck. In the lantern-lit captain's chambers the two of you sit, on opposite sides of a grand wooden table from each other. The mood is tense, as you try to implore her to reconsider this journey. "No-one's been able to verify the map's real, Captain...and these waters are dangerous, far from any city." But she laughs, shaking her head. "Far from any //known// city? Aye!" The fair Captain sips from her wooden mug. "But th'ancients, Wally, they were'n human...they lived far'n wide, and t'pluck an artifact from one'f their fallen cities...that makes us Legend."
You shake your head similarly to her, sighing, unable to get through to her. The both of you chew your dried fish and fruit, and she eventually speaks up again. "And Wally, y'did not have any //concerns// about this being //real// th'night I found the map. No, I seem't recall we even //celebrated//." It is not often that the captain's tone turns almost sultry, but she does for the recollection of that night. You nod slowly, the Captain has shot others over less, but she generally appreciates your disagreement and arguing with her, to 'keep her in check' as she says.
As you sip your own booze, you can't help but notice that Margarete's gaze has gone far from the piercing one more usual on her face. She's clearly trying to figure out some way to turn the subject right back to that intimate celebration you shared, she's probably just as uncertain as you are about the map being real. "Say, //First-Mate,//" She begins, and you sit straight, waiting for orders. "I'm afraid that th'fruit won't be enough to keep th'scurvy at bay...But my Captain's Intuition tells me that there's a mighty easy way to get an //injection// of th'right humours, or vittah-mihns, or whatever th'cure is these days..."
You inhale deeply, and try to stay professional for a bit longer. "What do you propose, Captain? We can't have you getting scurvy." The twenty-something sea-terror stands from her seat at the head of the table, and marches around to you. She plucks your cup from in front of you, and pours that potent alcohol into her mouth, before locking you into a kiss unlike any other. You swallow the booze, and kiss her back, putting a hand on her back to rub it through that demented leather coat she wears around.
Neither of you want to be the one to back down and break out of your spontaneous make-out session, and neither of you want to be the first to break and act first. The Captain's will seems to falter before yours, as she grabs your crotch tightly through your trousers. The fierce gaze she offers now to you is enough to bring your penis straight to attention, and it forces you to break away to catch your breath. She smirks just a tad, and throws her coat across the room. Margarete wears but a simple black shirt and form-fitting breeches beneath that coat of hers, and the shirt's the next to go.
"Oh!" She exclaims, as her bra falls right to the floor with her shirt removed. You smirk right back at her, you //may have// undone her bra through those layers of clothing when you were grasping and rubbing her back. Your grin of glee is not missed, as she leans forward over you, burying your face in her breasts. "Ya'v done a lot of cheeky things, Wally, always blubberin' on and on and on about this and that, disagreein' with me, watchin' me ass, but //this// is proper //insubordination//." She says, sitting down on your lap before squishing and smothering your face between her great rack.
"Can't have ya causing a //mutiny,// can I? I'll have t'either shoot ya, stab ya, or //earn your loyalty back.//" She says the last option with a certain seductive tone, as she grinds her crotch against your own. Even through both of your pants, you can feel her red-hot womanhood (the //real// prize of the entire Sea of Folly) as it eagerly awaits your own proud endowment. //"It would be an honor for you to spare my life, Captain."// You say, a fair bit muffled. You can hear her laugh a bit, and scoff all the same.
"Bah! C'mon, Wally, I could never truly harm ya, don't be talkin' like a pussy. Any'f the other men onboard can do that for you. Show me the fire that let you earn your position as First-Mate." She rustles your hair, but continues to smother you all the same. Despite there being no better way to spend an eve on the seas than face-in-chest, you play along. //''"I'm Wallace the bloody Specter,"''// You begin, britishly, //''"Anyone that sees me on these Seas o' Folly, don't live to tell the tale. I'll burn you and this whole ship to ash, in my greatest pyre yet, if you don't,"''// You think for a moment, //''"Surrender, and be my wife, like one of those noble-folk on the land."''//
Your bold choice of titty-muffled words seem to make her shudder and shiver, and chuckle with arousal. "Ya want //me// t'be your ''wife,'' Specter?" She asks, heart beating hard and fast, did you stumble onto something? Why waste the chance, you can go follow this thread, see what revelations come from it.
[[Pick up your captain, like a nobleman holds his wife.|SeasOfMarriage]]It takes a bit of lifting, a lot of groping and rubbing of her toned pirate body, but you manage to hoist your Captain up, noble-style. She chuckles a bit, almost giddily, and you flash her a smile as you move past the table and toward her simple bed. "Yes, o' mysterious Red Terror, I'll make a proper wife of you, and you a proper husband of me...In some noble's estate or another, we'll buy it up from 'em with our vast riches." You heave, and deploy the Captain right onto her bed, which creaks under the sudden gravity-assisted assault. "Aye, could do, Specter,"
Your Captain motions for you to join her on the bed, which barely has the space for one person. To hell with what the bed wants, you step out of your pants and join her, with her missing shirt and your missing pants, you make up one naked person. The Captain smiles wide, probably because the both of you have to partly lay on one another on this bed. Neither of you keeps still enough to entirely be the one underneath, and you ultimately manage to wind up atop her. She reminds you of her power even from beneath you, however, when she tightly squeezes the base of your exposed member.
//"Orrr,"// She purrs, rubbing the length of your rock-hard penis with purpose. "...We could ditch th' namby pamby noble-shit, and terrorize th'seas together. An' fuck like ''animals'' nightly." The words are seductive, even if you personally disagree with them in the long-run. Pirates do not marry, pirates do not love, those things are reserved for those that don't brutalize for a living. But pirates can ''fuck'', or at least the two of you certainly can. You run your hand along her toned side, which tenses for a moment at another's touch. Your roaming fingers brush lower, eventually running gentle circles around her midriff.
The Captain growls akin to an animal in heat, wiggling and writhing and kicking her pants right off and onto the ground, giving you the perfect view of her soaking wet pussy. "Captain, you've quite the flood of honey down here, eh?" You say, running your fingers along her sensitive pussy-lips, before swiftly plunging them into her twat. It's nigh-molten in there, a heat that no other woman could possibly achieve, perhaps The Captain's some she-devil in disguise. "Aye, they say that honey flows freely in th'land'f Th'Ancients, //Specter//. Perhaps we're close, then?"
"It would be convenient for this death mission we're on if that were the reason, //Margarete.//" You breath her name like a prayer, before finger-fucking her soaked pussy rapidly. She begins to articulate a response, but offers a few groans and moans in its stead. Her free hand grips the bed somewhat, whilst the one on your penis takes a detour to her mouth. Wetting her fingers, she returns to your length, pumping it as proper as she's able without any kind of non-spit lubricant. For the moments her fingers are in her mouth, she slurps noisily, making searing eye-contact with you.
You're not able to stick to the fingering for too terribly long, because The Captain rapidly starts to try to wrest control from you, looping her legs around your back and mashing your crotch against her pelvis. "Th'best...missions," She says, blushing from your potent finger-fucking, "...are called death missions, 'til they- Ooooh...succeed, First Mate. After that point..." She adjusts the position of your throbbing, spit-lubed cock so that it lines up with the pussy your fingers are greedily exploring. //"They're called ''Legends.''"//
She doesn't even need to pull your fingers out of her, you do so eagerly, ready to fuck some sense into her, or orgasm trying. "Now are ya gonna try t'argue with me, or-" She says, before loudly moaning into the night when you slam your hips forward, messily and rapidly burying your length in her tight pussy. "fffFFUCK!" She exclaims, moaning out all the more as she holds you deep inside of her with her legs. You shudder a bit yourself, her pussy feels just as molten around your cock as it did around your fingers, as it squeezes and does its best to make you a one-pump-chump.
You're not so easily bested, you press your hands against The Captain's breasts, groping and squeezing them greedily. You are rewarded with a delighted "Oooh!" and the unconscious loosening of her legs around you, which is just what you needed. Like a vengeful piston, you saw out of her slowly, then roughly pound against her depths in rhythm to some sea-shanty or another. The room stinks of sex, and in place of shanty lyrics, the two of you groan and moan and cry out into the cool night. You pound at her incredible vagina for Gods know how long, at first in the simple position you began with.
But as your body's endurance proves lesser than Margarete's, she moves atop you, pushing you on your back. The bed creaks noisily with each powerful slamming of her hips downward, impaling herself on your fat cock over and over again more similar in rhythm to a march than yours was. The messy, noisy ''CLAP--CLAP--CLAP--CLAP'' becomes all you know for quite some time longer, as The Captain pants and groans and fucks herself atop you needily, not exchanging words since you've both long stopped talking.
You feel like a mess, and would be able to focus and steel yourself for whatever length of time it takes for your Captain to tire herself out, but she finally speaks again, "Paint my fuckin' insides white, ya lovey-dovey sod..Uuhhhg..." She pants a bit, since her ordering you to do that resulted in a thrust from below. "...'nother life, 'nother time, we'd be wed, with servants, 'n butlers, 'n we'd never have t'work or rob a soul..." She begins to gyrate her hips in circular motions, holding you as deep into her as she can, but you pant and begin to fuck her in earnest from beneath with vigor you didn't know was in you. "...since, ya'know -- FUCK!" She moans, as you jackhammer into her with everything you're worth.
"I-I..." Tears fill her eyes, from confronting feelings or from the incredible orgasm that's rocking her body is hard to tell. "Fuckin'...I fuckin' love ya...Specter, as much as a killer...can love someone." She has trouble saying it, given the immense pleasure overtaking her, but hearing those words, it pushes you over the edge, and you fill her with everything you've got, groaning like a dumb animal.
[[Recover from orgasm.|SeaOfLove]]The Captain shudders and shivers atop you for quite some time, grabbing the bottle of wine right from under her pillow, and chugging it rapidly. Once she's emptied it, she hurls it against the wall, shattering the bottle to pieces. When she pulls off of you, she's dripping, though it's not solely from her own juices now. Margarete takes careful efforts to avoid getting copious amounts of semen on her bed, using some exotic fabric she stole to clean herself as best as she's able right now, without using the more communal wash-tub. You lay, watching her with a smile on your face, but she quickly recedes into her Captain-y persona.
"Aye, a good lay, First Mate...Ya give th'whores a run for their money." She says, easily compartmentalizing the very feelings she broke down and shared. The fierce gaze of a ruthless pirate captain has returned to her, as she looks you up and down. "Get dressed, I'll need all th'rest I can get before the grand journey ahead." And you do so, sighing slightly dejected that you didn't convince her against this suicide mission. As you dress, you hear the crew crying out beyond the door, and the crackling of thunder. You both exchange a glance, and she throws the door open, barely having covered her genitals, and clutching a flintlock.
You gaze out of that door and see a grand titan of jade and steel, risen up from the sea ahead of you. Its eyes each the size of a ship, it raises a mighty arm high in the sky to hurl lightning itself upon your vessel. The crew panics, but The Captain laughs at death, shouting orders at her men, who desperately aim the cannons to fire upon something no mere person could hope to blow a hole through. With haste, she climbs to the highest peak of the ship, and takes aim with her flintlock. You see her mouth, "In Hell May Ye Burn, Metal Man." before she fires wildly at the immense figure's eyes. There's the crackling of glass, the rattling of chains, then everything grows dark.
<<set $SexValue to $SexValue + 1>>
You come back to your wits in the car, having thoroughly creampied Shape, who lays atop you shivering and laughing, sometimes in post-orgasm bliss, sometimes manically. Her eyes sob uncontrollably, while she laughs like a broken person on you. You pant a bit yourself, staring at your hands to make sure you're //you,// and you are. Just as you reach out a hand to comfort her, she does a total 180 emotionally, and relaxes, tears drying rapidly. "That was //amazing// sex, holy shit, you're even better the second time."
"Did you, uh...see any of that?" You ask her, and Shape gives you a very tense unblinking look. "Whatever you saw, ''don't''." Her eyes lack pupils for a moment when she says that, and you nod politely, rapidly scrambling out from under her. She shakes herself dry like a dog, before wiping her body off with some kind of fast food napkins found in the back of a seat. You do the same now that she's not terrifying you anymore. "Oh, right, shit, we weren't meant to fuck! God damn it, Sleanne's gonna ''freak.''" Shape rubs her forehead, clearly trying to figure out what to do.
"I won't tell her if you won't?" You ask, and she nods. "Oh, thank you! That'd just save me //so// much shit-tier work." Shape hands you your clothes, and you dress with haste. Soon enough, you sneak out of the car, and back toward the party. Hopefully you can just bury deep that other life you briefly lived, and not dwell too much on the fact that Shape might have been a pirate or something?
<<set $PirateFucker to true>>
<<if $PartyProgressValue !== true>>[[Get back to the party, party-boy.|Party01]]<<else>>[[Get out of this car and back to the party at-large.|Party02]]<</if>><<set $TimeyWimey to 1>>You hurry over to the elf, managing to interrupt her moments before she casts some spell or another. "Syllyvana, wait, hold on-" You say, panting a bit from sprinting like a raving madman toward her. <<if $PactSealed is true>>She eyes you with confusion for a moment, before seeming to realize who you are. "Oh, $name? I see...You dress differently at a party than I expected." You give her dual fingerguns like a winner.<<else>>She turns to face you, before smiling very gently. "Oh, $name. I wasn't sure you were here...Which would be ironic considering you told //me// to go to a party." You nod, "I thought about approaching you earlier, but better slate than never."<</if>> The elf looks a bit tired, and absolutely stunning in her pitch black dress. If she notices you blatantly checking her out, she says nothing.
"I was just heading out for the night. I don't think this is my kind of thing." The blonde informs you, adjusting her glasses so that her hands aren't just awkward and idle. You scratch your chin in ponderment. "I wouldn't want to keep you, but, maybe you just haven't found the right thing to do here yet." Syllyvana peers at you, her body seems a bit less sober than normal, yet her eyes are just as calculating as ever. "Something with you, then?" She asks. You nod again. "Yeah, give it a try, it'll be...fun!" You hope.
Your gaze pauses on the various groups of people jamming and drunkenly dancing to booming music. You open your mouth, but Syllyvana's already grabbing you by a hand, confidently saying, "Yes, we //can// dance." You're more shocked than you probably should be that she figured out your plan. She takes charge, leading you into a crowd. When she notices people staring, she inhales deeply, grabs a bottle of cheap booze and chugs it to great applause. She makes a disgusted face at the taste.
With a flick of her wrist, the bottle hovers into a trash bag, allowing her to wipe her mouth off with a conjured handkerchief. It disappears after doing its job, while you stare in relative awe at whatever's going down. "Are you okay?" You ask, pretty sure that this girl would //not// normally do any of this. She shakes her head, then offers an overly formal curtsey to you. "People dance at these, dance with me."
You do so, at first joyously making your body move all loose and silly in place, but you're swiftly reigned in by warbling purple magic which springs from her palms. The formless purple glow moves one of your hands onto her shoulder. As the magic fades from view, she places a hand on your back, moving her feet in very practiced movements. Not wanting to get trampled, you do your best to move similarly to her. Her eyes are as calculated as ever, despite the alcohol on her breath.
She spins you around like one of the pretty girls, and you once more ask, "Are you okay?" Syllyvana nearly releases you entirely, but seems to double down, since it's a party. "I'm not okay. Not at all. But I don't ''want'' to talk about that, that's not why I'm at a party. I'm at a party to...smell the roses, for once in my life after leaving home."
She brings you into a dip, leaning overtop you. There's a slight pause as she seems to contemplate exactly //how// wild she should act at this party, holding you still. Her arms shake after //way// too long contemplating, and soon enough she loses her grip on you, dropping you against the dirty ground. <span style="color:#FF3333">She jumps slightly at the noise, then there's various discolored sparks, then...</span>
She brings you into a dip, leaning overtop you. She blinks a bit, clearly confused, since she's //fairly// sure that she just dropped you, but you don't have any dirt on you, and you definitely didn't have time to get back into her arms. "Did you...notice that?" She asks, and you shake your head no, you genuinely have no memory of whatever she's confused about. "Yes, okay...I see...must be the...alcohol." She concludes, not sounding especially convinced herself.
Syllyvana undips you, and disentangles appropriately. "Thank you for the dance, it was...better than any other part of this." She says, but her mind is clearly humming with curiosity at whatever she noticed that you didn't. You smile, and nod. "Yeah, you're a pretty good dancer! You make a dance-partner feel //fanciful.//" She doesn't respond to that, already casting a spell that makes her look blurry to your eyes. In the next moment, she's gone.
[[Return to the party at large.|Party02]]You wander over towards the pink-haired girl, tapping your fingers along the table she's sitting by in some forgotten melody or another. She sets her newspaper down atop your fingers, ineffectively trapping you. "Hey there, you're hot!" She exclaims with a smile, seeming to look around rapidly after saying so. You look around as well, but just see a lot of college students dancing, cheering, singing poorly, and occasionally pissing into a bush. "...They should have really gotten a bathroom for this thing." You say, which makes the girl chuckle a bit, confused.
"Uh-huh. Yeah. I totally get that. Anyways, I'm Shape! You're that new RA, right?" She asks politely, and you nod. "Hi, Shape, I'm $name, the new RA, replacing Rozzwell." You inform her, //professionally//. Shape does not respond to that at all, briefly looking around again. "So, please don't think I do this for everyone, but, I wanted to give you a nice welcome, in my car. Possibly mouth-stuff? We'll see where things lead, if you're interested..." Shape flutters her eyelashes at you like a ''HARLOT'' but the rest of that sounded pretty fun.
"Sure, that sounds pretty fun. Lead the way." You say, and she pulls you into and through at least three consecutive crowds of drunk people, some of which are agitated with you for harshing their dance. There's no time for a drawn-out dance battle to determine who's in the right, not when Shape's leading you with this level of need and urgency. Her other hand's stuffed away in her fluffy pink jacket.
You soon reach the designated patch of grass that everyone's parking around, and can only really watch as Shape peers inside of a black car's windows as if checking for something. Or someone. She unlocks the vehicle, and crawls into the backseat, and the moment you seat yourself, she closes the door behind you and //tackles// you to the seat, kissing along your neck like a woman possessed. "God, I //hate// having to ''wait'' for things..." Her voice changed tone there, and your eyes widen.
Shape currently sounds a //lot// like that tall black-haired girl you had rough sex with earlier, and the single frame where her hair changes to black confirms your suspicion. "Wait, wait, wait, we had sex earlier today." You say, partially for confirmation, and Shape nods simply. She begins to strip out of her barely decent party shirt, some bright red thing that exposes her cleavage. She keeps the fluffy jacket on, though. "Yeah, and I wanted more //sooooo// bad, don't act like you didn't want to find that black-haired babe again."
"Is there anyone //else// that you're pretending to be?" You ask, and Shape laughs like a maniac for a moment, as she unzips your pants. "More than you'd like, less than should matter." She wipes a tear or two away from laughing so hard. "Now enough blathering on and on, let's fuck already." She pulls your pants off of you with some effort, sniffing the air and smiling when she sees your cock straining against its confining underwear.
Shape's waist and legs briefly turn comically small, which allows her pants and panties to fall off of her in no time at all. They return to a normal human size a moment later, and soon enough she's sat on your lap, face pressed quite close to your own. She doesn't have breath to breathe onto your neck, but the molten heat her exposed vagina's subjecting your barely confined penis to is temptation incarnate.
"You," She messily kisses your neck. "//really// like my pussy, don't you?" You nod. "It's ''way'' hotter, temperature-wise, than it should be." You inform her, and Shape laughs. "Yeah, just a quirk of mine. One of the things that make me an 'imperfect experiment'." She smiles with too many teeth, allowing you to watch as some of them seamlessly merge together until she has the proper amount. You decide against asking.
You can feel her heart beating rapidly against you as she thinks about something, and you offer her a reassuring smile. "What's on your brain?" You ask, trying to come to terms with your arousal for this unhinged shapeshifter. "Do you...do you wanna roleplay?" Shape asks with big eyes. You can't say no to someone making that kind of needful expression.
[[Yeah, alright.|CarFuckenRoleplayFeeHeeHee]]You make your way to Shape, sitting by her and tapping a song on the table with your fingers. She puts the newspaper down atop them, ineffectively trapping you here. "Heyyyy! I was //wondering// when you'd come see me..." Shape looks around a bit, clearly looking for //someone,// but when that search comes up empty, she sighs a bit in relief. "You and me, let's walk, huh? Back to the car we came here in. I'm horny, you have a fat penis, let's make something happen here, right?" You pause for a moment. "We?" You don't get a response, Shape just grabs your hand and starts walking. You shrug, and go along with it, since the fat penis argument does hold water.
For a moment you can see that her hair turns black, and you're hit with a wave of realization. Shape is a shapeshifter, and her voice sounds faintly similar to that black-haired tall girl you had rough sex with. "...We fucked already, didn't we?" You ask, and Shape nods. "Yeah, fun, right? It'll be just as great the second time, don't worry. But I'm keeping the pink hair for this. It suits my //mood// better now." You shrug, pink looks just as good on her as black did for that single moment. She just gives an 'Eugh.' when you tell her as much, as if it were something foul to say.
Soon enough you reach the same black car you rode here in, and you still have zero memory of Shape being there on the ride here. She raises a finger for you to wait, before unlocking the door, and going inside. The shapechanger closes the door behind her, and you wait a few minutes. When it's clear you're not going to be told to enter, you open the door and let yourself in. You non-literally nearly leap out of your skin when you see the eldery driver sat in a back seat, he eyes you with concern.
"Hello, sir, why have you come to this car?" He asks, in an old-man voice. He crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow. You start to figure out something to say, but are interrupted by the feminine cackling that emits from his maw. "It's Shape, goofus." He says in one of Shape's voices, before hopping powerfully to the front like an animal, out of your sight. When you lean forward to find him, you only see pink-haired Shape wearing fancy butler attire that doesn't really fit her.
She lays on her back, upside-down in the driver's seat. "Yo." She says, kicking off the too-big butler shoes, before pressing a button with her big toe. The door you came in from closes, and you hear every door lock at once. "Sleanne would //never// own an ''actual'' butler, I think she'd puke." Shape says, stretching a bit. "...Sorry, I'm just, still trying to figure out how many people you just ''are'', apparently." You state, coming to terms with the nice butler man not being real.
"More than you know, less than should matter. Now shut up and take your clothes off, I'm not here to exposit, I'm here to ''fuck.''" To add to her statement, Shape's begun to rapidly unbutton her butler shirt. You do as you're told, slipping out of your pants and underwear, but making sure that your cool upper attire and tinted glasses stay on during sex. Shape watches you intently, before snarling like an animal as she pushes her hands against the floor, //launching// herself onto you.
She lands with a lack of grace, effectively just slamming her entire body against your entire body. You weren't exactly sat down before, but now you're pressed hard against the seat with this partially demented girl on you. Your naked cock twitches a bit, feeling the intense heat from her pussy even through those fancy pants she's wearing. Shape coos a bit when she sees that, short enough in this form to kiss you along the neck without having to bend.
"You," She messily kisses your neck. "//really// like my pussy, don't you?" You nod. "It's ''way'' hotter, temperature-wise, than it should be." You inform her, and Shape laughs. "Yeah, just a quirk of mine. One of the things that make me an 'imperfect experiment'." She smiles with too many teeth, allowing you to watch as some of them seamlessly merge together until she has the proper amount. You decide against asking.
You can feel her heart beating rapidly against you as she thinks about something, and you offer her a reassuring smile. "What's on your brain?" You ask, trying to come to terms with your arousal for this unhinged shapeshifter. "Do you...do you wanna roleplay?" Shape asks with big eyes. You can't say no to someone making that kind of needful expression.
[[Yeah, alright.|CarFuckenRoleplayFeeHeeHee]]You can see Shape sitting on a bench, shifting back and forward in a rather bored manner. When she notices your approach, she sits straight, and offers a smile. "Heya, buddy! Having fun at the party?" You shrug, "It's alright. Hey, earlier, you said we could dance, wanna cash in on that?" She seems to hesitate, so you try to convince her as best as you can. "It can't possibly be more boring than sitting here." That seems to do the trick, as she stands up real quick.
She looks really pretty in her fluffy jacket, and really sexy in her indecent shirt that's just beneath it. You can see her large breasts straining against that cloth, but you keep your eyes to yourself once the two of you start moving proper. Soon enough, the two of you have wandered into one of the many swarms of drunk people dancing like idiots. Soon enough, the both of you begin to move rhythmically, you more loose and wide, her more erratic and narrow.
<<if $StoleDrugs is true>>Shape stares into your eyes as the two of you dance, face quickly going from flirty to neutral, as she leans to your ear and whispers. //"When I told Sleanne what you did at the fountain, with our drugs, she should've been pissed...but it just excited her...It didn't excite me. I'm pissed off. If I had it my way..."// She trails off, bringing your hands down to her hips when you start to pull back. Shape's pink hair briefly looks inky black in coloration, and it's hard to tell if you imagined it, given that she's a shapeshifter and all.
Shape puts a hand on your crotch, snarling a bit as she squeezes and gropes at your pants. //"...God, if I had it my way...but I didn't. It's her way. For now. She encouraged me to ask you to 'work through my stress', but the only way that's happening is if I'm suffocating you under my ass..."// You start to respond, but she just giggles quietly in response. //"I know you'd probably get off from that, no, if I hatefucked you right now...we wouldn't be walking the next morning. Can't have that. Gotta have you in top shape, for more of Sleanne's bullshit..."//
Shape doesn't let you respond, hand scarily deforming and flattening to fit under your pants, before seeming to return to proper shape as she squeezes and tugs on your penis a few times. //"Just know...that next time, I get to do what I want to you. Thanks for the dance."// The pink-haired shapeshifter states, and as her hand retracts back into place, you feel a tongue run along your length. There's no tongue on her hand when it's freed of your pants, however.
[[That was somewhat disquieting. Return to the bulk of the party, both as cover and because you don't want to dance any longer.|Party02]]<<else>>As the two of you dance, Shape's hands roam your body skillfully, always making sure to return your hands to her hips when your own start roaming. She winks at you, and smiles before turning around, keeping your hands right where they are. She presses her back, and more importantly her nice round ass, against your body, glancing back at you with that same smile. You clearly have a dopey smile of your own on your face, which is intensified as she begins to grind against you proper.
<<set $ShapeCock to true>>
At first she's only grinding up and down very slowly, trying to look even slightly like a dance-thing, trying to look //civilized// and //proper.// Your cock can clearly be felt through your pants, and she seems to take a big pause in her grinding as she feels it. "Oooh, she didn't say you were //big...//" Shape's eyes literally have cartoon hearts appear in them for a moment, which fills you with pride and confused lust. She puts her hands on her knees, and bends over properly.
You keep your hands right where she wanted them, staring down eagerly at her divine ass, bound tightly in hot pink. She begins grinding anew, bouncing her hips rapidly and needily up and down, twerking her fat ass directly against your crotch. It's shocking that you can feel wet heat eminating ''directly'' through her leggings. She must be incredibly turned on, and despite the noise-level of your collective "dance" increasing, it works wonders on you. You semi-nervously look around, it's not proper to fuck someone in public, you don't think.
No-one's looking at the two of you, save for Sleanne, who sits on a nearby bench chatting away on her phone. She blows you a kiss when your eyes meet, which makes your heart skip a beat. You move your hands, grabbing Shape's ass roughly, and mashing her crotch against your own. She coos a bit, grinding there with need, and just as she seems to start saying something, her phone noisily vibrates. The frustration on her face is incredible as she whips it out, grits her teeth, and smiles sweetly again.
"Sorry, fat-cock, I've got to...go. Somewhere...Specific." Is the best line of reasoning Shape offers to you before wiggling away from you and walking off, arms crossed. That was an incredibly upsetting cock-tease, but it was a bit of a rush to have a girl dance on you like that where anyone could see. Sleanne's nowhere to be seen, so that rules out talking with her. That means it's time to [[return to party.|Party02]]<</if>><<if $PactSealed is true and $MarblesAff >= 1>>You approach the cute clown-girl, who appears to be riding a unicycle while sipping Something Another brand beer. Her free hand has a very well-decorated sock puppet on it, which waves its entire body at you rapidly as you approach. This sickening simulacrum wears the same outfit as the clown it relies on to live. //"Hiya, handsome!"// The sock puppet proclaims when you finally reach Marbles, past the small crowd watching in amazement at her immaculate balance while drinking.
You wave hello to the puppet, then look up at Marbles, trying to figure out if she's throwing her voice, or if socks are secretly alive. The clown-girl looks positively divine in her sparkly glittery hot pink clown outfit, a serious contrast with her ordinarily mundane clown outfit. Once she's finished her beverage, she tosses the empty bottle to the small puppet of herself, who full-body hurls it into a nearby trash bag waving in the wind like a mighty flag for alcoholism.
"$name, you look like some kind of popsicle!" She exclaims, and you look around confused. From her throne of a unicycle, she leans forward, before whispering, "//Because you look very ''cool'' in those tinted glasses. Like a secret agent.//" Marbles is wearing a bowtie tonight, which noisily spins in circular motions when she concludes the joke. Your sanity suffers from the joke, but since you effectively came into being today, you laugh all the same. "If ya like //that,// you'll ''love'' the after-show." The clown-white gal winks at you, before hopping off of her unicycle.
Despite the laws of physics, the cycle decides to remain waiting in place for its rider. There's a loud ''HONK'' as she lands on her feet, and you witness the small crowd disperse as she takes a bow. "After-show, huh?" You ask, and she nods rapidly. "M-hm!" The clown puts her hands behind her back and stretches a bit. "Buuuuut...you'll have to embark on one Clown-Quest to earn entry." She playfully elbows you a few times and wiggles her blue eyebrows.
"Give me your Clown-Quest, beautiful woman." You say, ready to shoot sarsparilla bottles or bake a cake or something. Marbles' sock puppet cheers mightily, before informing you, //"She'll show you a magic trick that'll make your eyes cross, if you can juggle. Bitches love a man who can juggle."// You nod in agreement, that's probably true. You've never had to juggle before...
[[Do as the puppet asks of you.|Juggle0Pact]]
[[Give up your secret passion for juggling before it even starts.|NoJuggle]]<<elseif $PactSealed !== true and $MarblesAff >= 1>>>You approach the cute clown-girl, who appears to be riding a unicycle while sipping Something Another brand beer. Her free hand has a very well-decorated sock puppet on it, which waves its tiny body at you rapidly as you approach. This sickening simulacrum wears the same outfit as the clown it relies on to live. //"Hiya, handsome!"// The sock puppet proclaims when you finally reach Marbles, past the small crowd watching in amazement at her immaculate balance while drinking.
You wave hello to the puppet, then look up at Marbles, trying to figure out if she's throwing her voice, or if socks are secretly alive. The clown-girl looks positively divine in her sparkly glittery hot pink clown outfit, a serious contrast with her ordinarily mundane clown outfit. Once she's finished her beverage, she tosses the empty bottle to the small puppet of herself, who full-body hurls it into a nearby trash bag waving in the wind like a mighty flag for alcoholism.
"$name! Are you a pizza I ordered thirty minutes ago?" She asks, and even though you know this is leading to some psyche-shredding punchline, you shake your head all the same. "Weird, because I've been waiting to see you!" Tonight she has a bowtie on, and it noisily spins in response to her joke. You have barely developed a sense of humor, and as such laugh uproariously at her joke, which seems to make her smile.
She hops off of her unicycle, which patiently stays perfectly still in her absence. "I'm glad you like my //slice// of humor, I think there'll be a lot of it in your future." She bows a few times as the small crowd departs, eventually stopping to smile at you again. "But, before we get to any of //the fun stuff,// you'll have to do something for me. An ancient clown tradition, for random hooking up at parties."
You like the sound of some of that, so you nod, ready to take on whatever she's about to ask of you. "Juggle." She says, before staring expectantly, though her tiny sock clone stares at you with googly eyes that doubt your ability. //"I bet you don't even have it in you. You're some kind of juggleless clown-virgin."// The puppet smirks at you like a cold bitch. You'll show her.
[[Prove the puppet wrong.|Juggle0]]
[[The puppet's right, don't juggle.|NoJuggle]]<<elseif $PactSealed is true and $MarblesAff !== 1>>You approach the cute clown-girl, who appears to be riding a unicycle while sipping Something Another brand beer. Her free hand has a very well-decorated sock puppet on it, which waves its body at you rapidly as you approach. This sickening simulacrum wears the same outfit as the clown it relies on to live. //"It's the RA!"// The puppet exclaims, trying to get Marbles' attention. You have to get beyond a small crowd that's formed around her, which stares impressed at her balance while drinking.
You politely greet the puppet, then turn your sight to Marbles, unsure if puppets are all secretly alive, or if she's a gal of many talents. That sparkly pink clown-outfit looks insanely hot on her, maybe because it hugs her round ass so well. She tosses the now empty bottle of beer to her tiny cloth clone, which full-body throws it into a trash bag waving in the wind. A bag full of tribute to the secret God of Glass.
"$name, it's cool to see that you attend parties like the rest of us! Do I owe the honor to your big thirst for easy alcohol? Or did you have a big thirst for something a little //less// easy?" She winks, and honks her red painted nose several times, though it makes no glorious honking noise. It takes a moment for her to hop off of her loyal one-wheeled steed, but once she lands she waves and bows at the dispersing crowd.
With the crowd taken care of, she faces you once more. "So, don't keep me in suspense! How's the party, did you try any of the Something Another? Come to see me, or see me to cum?" She has a bowtie on tonight, and it noisily whirs after she says that. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding, you have the look of a guy who //absolutely// tried the Something Another beer. It's terrible!" She laughs.
"You keep circling around to having sex, is that a normal part of your routine, or are you hinting at something?" You ask, and she and her puppet share a glance. "It depends, on one simple thing. Can you juggle?" She asks, giving you a very serious look. Well? //"Can ya, can ya, can ya?"// The puppet asks with a mocking tone.
[[Juggle to perhaps join the clown-fuckers club.|Juggle0Pact]]
[[Pass on the potential for making fuck with one of your floormates.|NoJuggle]]<<else>>You approach the cute clown-girl, who appears to be riding a unicycle while sipping Something Another brand beer. Her free hand has a very well-decorated sock puppet on it, which waves its body at you rapidly as you approach. This sickening simulacrum wears the same outfit as the clown it relies on to live. //"It's the RA!"// The puppet exclaims, trying to get Marbles' attention. You have to get beyond a small crowd that's formed around her, which stares impressed at her balance while drinking.
You politely greet the puppet, then turn your sight to Marbles, unsure if puppets are all secretly alive, or if she's a gal of many talents. That sparkly pink clown-outfit looks insanely hot on her, maybe because it hugs her round ass so well. She tosses the now empty bottle of beer to her tiny cloth clone, which full-body throws it into a trash bag waving in the wind. A bag full of tribute to the secret God of Glass.
"$name, it's cool to see that you attend parties like the rest of us! Do I owe the honor to your big thirst for easy alcohol? Or did you have a big thirst for something a little //less// easy?" She winks, and honks her red painted nose several times, though it makes no glorious honking noise. It takes a moment for her to hop off of her loyal one-wheeled steed, but once she lands she waves and bows at the dispersing crowd.
With the crowd taken care of, she faces you once more. "So, don't keep me in suspense! How's the party, did you try any of the Something Another? Come to see me, or see me to cum?" She has a bowtie on tonight, and it noisily whirs after she says that. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding, you have the look of a guy who //absolutely// tried the Something Another beer. It's terrible!" She laughs.
"You keep circling around to having sex, is that a normal part of your routine, or are you hinting at something?" You ask, and she and her puppet share a glance. "It depends, on one simple thing. Can you juggle?" She asks, giving you a very serious look. Well? //"Can ya, can ya, can ya?"// The puppet asks with a mocking tone.
[[Juggle in the hope of fulfilling mankind's dream of fucking a clown-girl.|Juggle0]]
[[No, and you will make no attempt to do so. Transcend the clown within, just this once.|NoJuggle]]<</if>>You decide to walk after Rozzwell, who hasn't gotten all that far considering he very recently spoke with you. "Rozz, wait up." You say, and the black-haired fellow turns to face you. "...When I said I was leaving soon, I...didn't mean right away..." He specifies, as if that's why you're chasing him, but you shake your head. "No, no, I just wanted to spend some time at this party with you." He seems to accept that with a shrug, motioning for you to keep up as he staggers around.
Both of you walk around the party-grounds, and occasionally you can see flickering outlines present near the distant train tracks. No-one else seems to notice them, so there's not much you can do with that information. Rozzwell fills a plastic cup with nondescript colored punch, then hands it to you. "Here, try this...no alcohol, so...not in the spirit of //the party,// but...y'know...the booze here tastes like trash." As you sip, you indeed agree that this overly sugary stuff tastes worlds better than cheap alcohol.<<if $SuPunch is true>> This is the same stuff you drank with Su.<</if>>
He continues walking, briefly pausing when you start to move nearer the train tracks, before limply staggering in that direction anyways. You see the outlines flicker into being once again, a man and a woman, one blue and one red, silhouettes of vague people. You hear laughing and sobbing faintly near these people. You're drawn back to reality as Rozzwell sits by the tracks, running a foot along the broken down wood with a gentle sigh. "These parties aren't really my scene anymore...but it's not really the full college experience if you miss out on going to at least one...hopefully you'll find one less shitty than this, huh?"
"I feel like I'm just a little lost in all of it, like I'm drifting to people of interest here. Is that normal?" You ask, and he seems to think. "...It's not what most people do at parties...but I don't think that's a bad way to go about it. These things are for socializing, right? Well, you don't have a friend group to just...stick to yet, so...bouncing off of whoever seems interesting, that's fine." Rozzwell stares blankly at the tracks for a time. You take in his words, thinking.
"...anyway. If you wanna leave soon, I'll be in the car. Otherwise, try to find another ride...walking's a bit far from here, and people usually don't like sleeping on the ground instead of a bed..." He sighs for reasons most unknowable, standing tall once more and making his way to the designated parking zone.
[[Contemplate staying or going.|Party02]]<<set $PartySu to true>>The two of you lock eyes after a bit of collective consideration, and soon enough you're both walking toward the other. You meet next to a bunch of multicolored balloons, which themselves are by a rather large bowl of nondescript fruit punch. She stands at about your height, and smiles gently as you introduce yourself. "Hi. I'm $name. How're you enjoying the party?" You ask, inventing the icebreaker.
Your vision blurs, time grinds to a halt, as a strange sense of nausea and tingling overtakes you. Those gorgeous purple eyes seem to close as time halts. Her features melt away as this occurs, until she's simply a purple silhouette of her former self. Freaky. Not as freaky as the skull-pounding knowledge of her stats superimposed over your eyes.
''THE ACE OF CUPS''
''WANDS:'' 2
''SWORDS:'' 2
''COIN:'' 4
''CUPS:'' -10
You don't know what a negative number means, you're not even convinced that's real, but time resumes before you have much time to dwell. It looked like someone stitched that zero next to the one. The pretty woman unsilhouettes, and opens her eyes gently. "Party's a little boring, I'll be honest. But everyone knows the real fun's what comes after..." She does sound quite bored.
"Call me Su. I run X-O-X." Su says that roughly as bored, but you nod rapidly. While you keep nodding, she turns a perfect 90 degrees and fetches a cup of punch, and sips mightily. "...This is the only stuff without that shitty Something Another booze in it here, what kind of party doesn't have any water?" She asks rhetorically, not allowing you to answer literally.
"Neat." You instead say, grabbing a cup for yourself. Sipping, it tastes like the imitation of cherries mixed with intense amounts of sugar. Delicious.<<if $PartyRozz is true>> This is the same punch you drank with Rozz.<</if>> Su gives you a sly glance, leaning over to whisper, //"...You're in-the-know, aren't you? I felt it, I wasn't sure anyone else was."// If you could take a spit-take without anything in your mouth, you would.
[[Yes, I am in-the-know.|PHLYes1]]
[[No, I am not.|PHLNo1]]<<set $PartyShay to true>>Shayton's a pretty, curly-haired girl with exhaustion in her eyes tonight. Her party outfit clearly has work attire haphazardly worn underneath it, which is a shame since her lanky body would probably be a lot more exposed without the mind-numbing corporate gray of her uniform in the way, You manage to reach her without being noticed, possibly because she's laying on the ground and looking up at the pretty night sky. When it's clear that you stop walking right next to her, Shayton gazes over to you. "Oh, $name? Interesting...did you come here to give me my award for most tired girl at the party?"
"Yes ma'am. Presenting..." You look around, swiftly making an exaggerated trumpet noise with your mouth. "//The Most Tired Lady at The Party.//" Then you bow a few times, out of recognition for the award-winner. A smile overtakes her face, which turns to proper laughter when you pluck a dandelion from the ground and hold it out to her. Instead of taking it, she motions for you to lean down, and upon doing so, she blows the white puffs of the funny flower into your face. You put your hand on your face and wipe rapidly, until you're freed of flower debris.
Shayton laughs a lot more, before calming down, and patting the ground next to her. You sit, then lay, since she's clearly not gonna sit up to meet you halfway. "It's not very sportsmanshipful of you to do that to your iconic trophy." You tell her, and she chuckles a few times. "No, maybe not, but I wanted to see if you'd fall for that. You're funny, you know that?" You'd blush if you were prone to doing so. "Oh, stop." You say, wanting to be complimented more instead.
"It's the real-deal. When people look back, they'll remember that you're a funny guy. Anyway, you didn't //really// come over to give me that trophy, what's the deal?" She asks, looking over to you. You produce an audible 'uuuhhhh', before shrugging. "I came over here to talk, or something. I don't really know, usually I just go along with whatever my conversation partner does until I think of something to respond with." The tired girl looks into your eyes deeply, before nodding slowly.
"Most guys...Hell, most //people//, would be lying if they said that, but I actually believe you. You wanna talk, let's talk. I've heard a //lot// about you in passing, I wanna know the $name experience." She looks at you curiously, and expectantly. Your turn to lead, then... "I'm $name. The new RA, replacing Rozzwell...I'm majoring in Arcane Theory, I have very vivid nightmares about chains and little star-things...<<if $SawPast is true>>I'm...a soldier. From Weast-Wald." You try to contain it, but you just pour out information about your past life, it makes you tear up, but it makes you feel relieved to share all the same.
<<set $ShaySoldier to true>>
"My Captain was a harsh woman, but she was the only one I could trust there, we just...understood each other, you know? Every night, I'd wake up, thinking that I was still on that damn mine-world...you can't see an inch through the storms on those planets, there's just dust and rust, and the flaws of our ancestors...I hated the war, the fighting...planet after planet, megacity after megacity, for what?" You run your hand along the scar that isn't on your forehead. "...just more fuel for a failing empire. I carved a notch for each kill into my blaster at first, so I wouldn't forget how many I'd stolen the lives of, but...after so many worlds, so many cities...you run out of room in your heart, on your gun...and that's the scariest feeling in the world, knowing you won't remember this one's face, or that one. That you'll become the faceless butcher the companies want you to be."
Shayton listens intently as you spill your guts about sci-fi war, about the sins of your ancient ancestors, about whatever a West-Wald is, the name of which sounds fake to both of you. Eventually you manage to control yourself, breathing heavily as you can almost //see// your old hands overlaid atop your new ones. You're having trouble breathing, you can hear your heart pounding in your skull, and you feel so very light-headed. "What color's my hair?" Shayton asks, and you look at her confused, clearly swaying in place. She asks again, and you inform her, "Brown."
She asks you to describe your immediate surroundings, so you do, speaking of blades of grass, and her unfortunate party/work attire, which makes her chuckle a bit. Soon enough, the pounding in your skull stops, and you feel like you can breathe again. "That was...a lot, whatever it was, you gave yourself a panic attack over it." She says, rubbing your shoulder gently. "I...I don't know if you were describing a dream, or something, or if you really believe all of what you said, but...focus on what's around you from now on. You're not in a war, you don't have to scare yourself." Shayton continues to rub your shoulder reassuringly, until you seem to regain your composure.
She offers a gentle smile, and a sigh of relief. "Thanks for, uh, telling me. About yourself. Please take it easy, alright?" Her tired eyes hold concern, which is probably valid all things considered. You nod in agreement, and she lingers for several minutes to make sure you're fine to leave alone, before ultimately excusing herself. "I've gotta get some sleep, it's been a long day for me."<<else>>I feel like...I'm a stranger, here, like I'm this vacant //thing// occupying someone else's space." You say, trying not to say too much about the truth of the matter. Shayton nods gently.
"That's...deep, in an imposter syndrome sort of way. You shouldn't think less of yourself, though, plenty of people feel what you're feeling...sometimes you need to tell the person in the mirror that you don't hate him." You ponder a bit, nodding. "I don't hate that guy, I don't think. He didn't know what he was getting into, it just feels...weird, sometimes, to try to decide if I'm trying to fill shoes, or if I'm just doing my own thing." Shayton doesn't have an immediate response to that, clearly a bit confused.
Eventually, she assures you, "Filling shoes is overrated, have you ever actually thought about that saying? 'Big Shoes to Fill'? Everyone knows what it's trying to say, but like...you don't pass around shoes when you leave a position. That's insane. Whatever's got you so hard on yourself, don't even worry about it. The past is the past for a reason, you're a freshman, start fresh, man!" Some of that was nonsense, but she's very energetic in trying to reassure you despite her tired eyes. It works, a little, the past //is// the past, you can't really change that you're in someone else's body.
<<set $ShayAff to 1>>
"That's enough assurances and deconstruction of those weird sayings for a night, I'm exhausted here." The curly-haired girl tells you. "Thanks for the words. And for saying I'm funny." You smile at her, and she smiles back lightly. "Yea, well, you caught me at the right time to act like a goofy-ass. Now, if you'll excuse me," She sits up, booping your nose with a chuckle. "...This party's falling apart pretty quickly, and I need to lay on something softer than dirt. Hopefully we talk to each other again, huh?" You nod, that'd be cool. You sit up just as she walks away, quietly cursing her work clothes for ruining what would surely be a sexy party outfit.<</if>>
[[Collect yourself, and get to whatever party remains.|Party02]]<<set $PartyShay to true>>Shayton's a pretty, curly-haired girl with exhaustion in her eyes tonight. Her party outfit clearly has work attire haphazardly worn underneath it, which is a shame since her lanky body would probably be a lot more exposed without the mind-numbing corporate gray of her uniform in the way, You manage to reach her without being noticed, possibly because she's laying on the ground and looking up at the pretty night sky. When it's clear that you stop walking right next to her, Shayton gazes over to you. "Oh, $name? Interesting...did you come here to give me my award for most tired girl at the party?"
You shake your head. "Nah, I'm..." You probably shouldn't mention ''THE LIST'' of important people to talk to. "...just here to talk." Shayton laughs noisily, shaking her head against the grass below. "Yeah, //I believe that one.//" She sarcastically states. "You're dressed like a very niche fuckboy, I mean, tinted glasses at night...? Any other night, I'd give you a shot, but, fuck, man...today's just //not// a good day." This is a //way// different vibe than you got from her when you first got here. "Did something happen? You seemed...different, earlier."
Shayton sighs, "That's nice of you to ask, but you're not talking me into anything more than talking tonight." When you don't seem to argue with that, she blinks, apparently impressed or confused or both. "Right, uh, maybe I got the wrong idea from you, $name. Anyways, yeah, today's just //bad.// Fucking Maria called in //again//, so I had to work twice as long today...my bitch friend puked all over my new bike, and my..." She sighs, apparently done talking about her very bad day. "I'd be fine with this shit if it wasn't all on the same day..."
Good impression. Make a good impression. "There there." You say, patting her side since her back isn't available right now. Her face contorts, at first you worry that it's in disgust, but she starts absolutely cackling. For a full minute, she laughs, before sitting up, working through the last few residual laughs. "You're //bad// at comforting someone, holy cow. But man, you're funny, you know that?" You nod, you //are// funny, aren't you! <<if $Coin >= 3>>Utilizing your powers of humor, you regale this tired brown-haired babe with witty observations about the world, some of which are way more novel since this world feels so fresh to you comparitively. It's unreasonably effective. Maybe being a stranger in this world has its boons. Soon enough, she's begging you to stop, since you're killing her side with laughter.
"Hahaha...holy shit, someone has to get you on a stage at some point, it's like you just...see all the little things no-one else does. Wish I could do that." Shayton smiles at you, somewhat under the spell of your comedy. This has definitely endeared you in her eyes more than standing stiffly like you started doing earlier. "Thanks, no-one's ever said that to me before." You inform her, and she shakes her head rapidly. "Don't get any ideas, funny-man...not tonight, anyway."
<<set $ShayAff to 2>>
Shayton stands up, and thinks for a moment, before patting you on the back and offering a "There there" of her own. Both of you laugh, and you shoot her a wink. She gives one in kind, before running her fingers through your hair. You could probably try to progress this game of flirtation chicken, but she sounded pretty certain about not sleeping with anyone tonight, so rather than push your luck, you just lower your head a bit to make it easier for her fingers to explore your hair.
"You know how to make a girl's night a little less shitty. Thanks, $name. Maybe next time we see each other..." She trails off, letting your mind wander as she gently scratches your head. That feels good, and vaguely intimate, but soon enough, she pulls away, leaving your head naked of hand anew. "Party's gonna get too disorganized for me to have any fun soon, so...see you later." She says, walking off. You shamelessly watch her go, still denied the full depravity of her party outfit because of her work attire.
[[Go see what party remains to be done.|Party02]]
<<else>>You try to call on the power of comedy, and start out pretty decently with pointing out the absurdity of the world you find yourself in, but somewhere in the flow-state of humor you trip. Your comedy takes a self-depricating turn, which university students would psychoanalyze as an attempt to normalize the dissonance you feel having woken up in someone else's body today.
This one doesn't do that, since she's missing the vital piece of the puzzle that you're an intruder in this world, but she does groan and roll her eyes at the tenth joke at your own expense. Eventually it gets too dreadful and self-hateful to go on any longer. "Stop, stop, please, God. You gotta workshop this or something, this is getting masochistic." Shayton stands, patting you on the back, and she makes herself laugh when she offers a "There there."
"Maybe it got unfunny because you were actively forcing it? I dunno. You're alright, $name, an a-okay guy in my book. But you need to confront...whatever, all of that was about, with someone that isn't basically a stranger. Take it easy, yeah?" She says, giving you a very sleepy smile of reassurance. You nod, unlikely to actually dig too deep into the Self, lest you find something dangerous. She leaves you before too long, and now you have to do something else.
[[Check in on the rest of the party.|Party02]]<</if>>You look around the party, in all its glory, taking in the sights and sounds. Basically everyone's pretty wasted right now, shambling about and acting like hilarious idiots. That gnome that was chugging a ton of Something Another is currently puking onto the train tracks, which feels loosely disrespectful for reasons you can't place. More than one person is singing an entirely different song than what's playing through the speakers, the DJ has luckily found his phone, but is still letting the other guy play his own music. Some young woman has decided she lives in a wooden barrel now, which is...a strange response to being inebriated. Most of the notable people you know aren't quite as drunk off their ass as the nondescript college-goers.
You peer around for the next person to interact with, but are interrupted by a screeching of tires and the blaring of insanely loud polka music. Everyone, save for those unconscious and covered in puke or some other kinds of liquids, look around confused. Some large van, painted black, has its headlights turned on as bright as possible, and is //rapidly// approaching the pavilion. You stand a bit dumbfounded, and overcome with fascination at the whimsical tune blaring, and can only bear witness as the van screeches to a halt. Perhaps a dozen individuals in hoodies and comedy masks get out of the van, holding baseball bats.
The polka continues to blare as the van's engine quiets, which means it's emitting from this group personally instead of coming from a radio or something. ''"WELCOME, FRESHMEN AND LOSERS PARTYING WITH FRESHMEN!"'' Booms a feminine voice, seemingly from a hoodie'd figure dressed entirely in black. ''"WE'LL BE TAKING OVER FROM HERE, TO GIVE YOU THE REAL PARTY EXPERIENCE! NOW GIVE ME A MOTHER-FUCKING HOORAY, OR SOMEONE'S GETTING PINATA'D."'' You gawk at the threat, but most people cheer since they're too drunk to really feel threatened.
<<if $PactSealed is true>>There's the revving of an engine, the rolling of tires, and a shouted, <span style="color:#B2FBA5">"Get in!"</span> You feel compelled to do so, especially since the alternative is potentially getting pinata'd for not cheering. You turn your head, and jump into a still-moving car that's got a single passenger door open. Perhaps predictably, it's Sleanne's car you find yourself in. You've managed to land partially on her lap, and would probably be staring up into her big ruby eyes if you didn't see the leader of this weird psycho mask group staring directly your way.
Shape's driving the car, clearly a bit frantic since it takes her a decent few moments to close the back door with the tap of a button. "Fucking masked asses." Shape says, eloquently, taking a hand off the wheel to adjust the rearview mirror. "Buckle up, if I crash I'm not gonna be held liable for your death." Shape says, and you nod, sitting up proper next to Sleanne. Your fun-guide buckles you up with a wave of her wrist, chuckling a bit. "Always the same thing with those guys, every year."
"Are the other people gonna be okay?" You ask, not aware that college entails people getting smashed with bats at parties sometimes. Sleanne nods slowly. "Yeah, they'll regret sticking around, but those masked people won't hurt anyone, they're just stupid and like scaring people." The goblin conjures her phone in a puff of smoke. She begins to text, while Shape does her best to adjust the driver's seat to fit her pretty self properly.
"So they're just...there to scare them?" You ask, and Shape groans. "No, they're there to give them the 'REAL PARTY EXPERIENCE'," Shape gives some air quotes and you briefly feel the car moving off the road until she veers back on. "...Which means giving everyone huuuuge hangovers and hazing them without the prize of getting into a dysfunctional fratrority family. It has the bullshit side effect of scaring some freshmen away from parties entirely." Apparently Shape's pretty passionate about that group, and you can't really blame her, it kinda does just sound like throwing an unprepared group into the deep end for fun basically.
"So, you...knew this'd happen?" You ask. Sleanne nods matter-of-factly while texting away, regardless of Shape's air-quote-induced veering. "Every year, first party of every year. Like clockwork, Mister RA. Smart people leave early...Maybe you noticed that." There's a silence, but you have more things to question. "Where're we going now?" Shape looks at Sleanne through the rearview mirror, seeming to drink in the devious smile taking over the goblin's face. "The after-party, silly man."
[[Enjoy the ride.|AfterParty1]]<<else>>There's the revving of an engine and the blaring of some punk-rock jam, followed by a shouting, <span style="color:#90D5FF">"GET IN!"</span> You don't even need to think, this voice aims to guide you. You turn, and leap into a still-moving vehicle, perhaps predictably it is Rozzwell's. The punk-rock that's blaring is almost like a song of great escaping, with the vocalist singing about defying societal norms and feeling trapped. Rozzwell maneuvers his car in such a way that you could never hope to accomplish, effortlessly weaving past the various other vehicles trying to escape whatever the fuck is going on.
"...you should close your door." He informs you, harshly turning his car to avoid hitting one of the masked people as they leap out at his car like raving lunatics. Rather than fly out of the car, you listen to him, slamming the door shut and buckling up before he even has to ask. Your heart pounds, "What the fuck is going on out there!?" You ask, and Rozzwell shakes his head slowly. "...it's a fratrority thing, either KEK or BAD...they've been doing this since my first year. First party not hosted by a fratrority gets this treatment..."
You've so many questions, but Rozzwell can reasonably predict them. He turns onto one of the older roads of Millerfield, looking through his rearview mirror carefully. "No-one's //actually// going to get pinata'd...they stopped doing that after the last KEK president was arrested...which...doesn't prove it's House KEK, in an 'official' sense...but, y'know." Once he doesn't see anything in that mirror, he continues to drive along the old road, steadily making his way back to the campus.
"...basically, think of whatever terrible hazing you can imagine...that's what's going on over there for the rest of the night. People will show up, if they show up to class at all, hungover as hell on their second day...that's why." Your RA yawns a bit, apparently having filed this lunacy away as normal long ago. "...Having gone through it: no, it's not fun. At least with the other hazing, you get, like, a room to sleep in...this is just torturing a bunch of freshmen."
Rozzwell's pretty succesfully answered your questions, save for a pretty good one. "The college hasn't, like, stepped in? Or the police, or...someone?" You ask, and Rozzwell chuckles dryly. "...you don't want to rely on Millerfield University for bringing every bad student to justice...they're not good at that...and the police? Not legal for most college freshmen to be drinking booze, is it...? Maybe that's a dumb reason not to get the cops involved, but...no-one wants to get arrested over it. So it stays like this."
Rozzwell pauses the music so both of you can hear yourselves think. "I mostly had that playing so you knew where to jump...good jump, by the way, bud, that was cool..." You nod, trying to process all of this. "I just wanted to party, why did no-one tell me that would happen?" You ask, and Rozzwell shrugs. "I honestly forgot at first...I haven't really gone to a party in a while...but I knew around the time it was time to go. As for anyone else? I dunno...if they were also a freshman, they definitely didn't know..."
You sigh gently, the rest of the ride going in relative quiet. Once you've pulled next to the dorm, Rozzwell reassures you that, "...it's only the first party. If you want to give it another go, there'll be better ones, but I'm over that stuff, personally...it's fucking exhausting." Rozz unlocks your door for you, and you get out. He drives off to park someplace out of sight, and you scurry up to your collective dorm room. In time, you lay down, and collapse into sleep.
[[Enter sleep, for chance to dream.|EndOfPrologue]]<</if>>//"...yeah. I am."// You reply, quietly, which makes her clap a few times, not more than three. "I knew it! It's very cool to know there's others like me. Sometimes I wonder if I'm the only real person here, but knowing that there's even one other person like me, gosh, how liberating...what're your numbers at?" She asks, and you hesitate a bit. This is moving very quickly, and you can only think of one eldritch horror capable of making someone aware of ''STATS.''
<<set $SuKnows to true>>
"Oh, it's fine if you wanna keep that to yourself...I guess it could be kinda personal, like telling someone your exact measurements, when you don't even really //know// them yet...but you at least //have// to tell me what you're aiming for this time." You blink a few times, what does that mean, 'this time'? "If you're just looking for sex, uh, I think it's kinda complicated...but the high score can't be that high for a day, right? Oh! Or maybe you're after //romance,// and //connection// with people? A long-term investment, sorta thing...I wonder how big a harem you can make...is this even a harem-thing...?"
This is getting concerningly more meta by the second, and you don't really know how to disentangle from a conversation without the option being provided first. "Hey. Uh." You start. "Stop. Stop that." You continue, and now she starts to blink. "This is about...college, right?" You awkwardly put your hand on her face, not purposefully, it just kind of happens as you keep talking. "I think you're getting too hung up on...numbers, and records, and...these are //people// you're talking about. They have, like, dreams, and stuff. Aspirations."
"...plus, people are starting to stare, I think it's a terrible idea to talk like this. Just. In general. I don't really care about being seen as crazy, it just feels...dangerous." You move your hand a bit on her face, before recoiling away when she licks your palm. This is definitely someone similar to you, only you would do something that horrific to another humanoid being. She smiles at you, genuinely, when you stare back at her, before nodding.
"You're probably right...yeah, alright, yeah. If you wanna talk sometime, we'll bump into each other, probably. I have to see if Jeremy's at this party, he's always so funny..." Su offers, before stiffly waiting like thirty seconds blankly, then turning a perfect 180 degrees and walking away from you. You excuse yourself as well, and do much the same.
<<if $SawFuture !== true>>
[[Figure out what to do now.|Party02]]
<<elseif $SawFuture is true>>Wait! Purple! Violet! And she's wearing a barely decent skirt! It's supremely sexy, but that's not what you should focus on here! This is the same silhouette that was made of ice, that turned Rozzwell into ice! In your ''future vision.'' "Hey! Wait!" You exclaim, hurrying over, and trapping her in dialogue again. "Huh?" She offers, and you grab her by the shoulders.
<<set $SuPromise to true>>
"Don't turn Rozzwell into ice! It's a ''terrible'' idea, and it's freaky as hell! Fight fate, c'mon, be variable, be ''weird!''" You shake her akin to a ketchup bottle by the shoulders, hoping the vibrational frequency will get the message through intact. She just lets you shake her, nodding slowly in response, then rapidly when she starts getting dizzy. "That doesn't make any sense! But okay! No ice!" She promises, and you release her. More dizzy than before, she continues on her predefined choice to try to find Jeremy here.
[[Figure out what to do next.|Party02]]
<</if>>"...No?" You ask, confused, which deflates her building excitement. She stands perfectly still for an uncomfortable few moments, before suddenly speaking again, "Have you heard any interesting rumors lately?" She asks, which makes you think. Not especially. "No, nothing of note." You reply simply. Su nods in agreement, then pauses again.
Su looks you up and down in incredible detail for a time, burning every minor detail about your appearance into her cranium, then she speaks again as if nothing absurdist just happened. "You're one handsome guy, have you considered attending a...more interesting party than this one, sometime?" She queries, and you shrug in response.
"That might be fun. I need you to tell me where and when in advance, or I'll probably just get lost. This campus is confusing without active guidance." You inform her, and she nods in agreement. "Yeah, it can be...but you get used to it, don't you worry. This will all be routine for you soon." Su gives a jaunty hand-gesture to show how easy that will come to you.
"...alright, well, I've got to go now, see you someplace else, I bet?" She asks, and you nod slowly. You think that's how running into people works, it's some kind of random thing that happens 30 times out of 100. She downs the rest of her punch, then walks away, not saying anything, she just starts walking away. That seems like familiar behavior somehow.
<<if $SawFuture !== true>>[[That was weird as hell. Figure out your next thing now.|Party02]]
<<elseif $SawFuture is true>>Wait! Hold on! She turned into a purple silhouette, is clearly not ordinary, and is wearing an extremely eye-catching too-short skirt! That's the lady, from your vision of the ''future!'' She's gonna totally turn Rozzwell into ice. You look back and forward, shuffle over to her, then poke her shoulder.
<<set $SuPromise to true>>
"Oh, uh, hi?" She asks, clearly a little confused. You have no idea how to phrase this, but you can sure try. "Hey. You should don't interact with Rozzwell. Bad idea, just, all around. Just...putting it out there. Just so you know." That sounded like something someone not insane would say. Kinda. Su blinks at you, clearly confused, before nodding very slowly, and walking off, out of this passage.
[[You are truly a master of persuasion, soothsayer. Figure out what's next.|Party02]]<</if>><<set $PartySleanne to true>><<if $PactSealed is true>>Sleanne's stood by a telephone pole, smoking some sort of cigarette-adjacent thing that produces thick pink smoke. She's partially surrounded by drunken sycophants and would-be suitors trying their best to earn her attention. Sleanne laughs like a refined young lady, easily running verbal circles around all that surround her. When she notices your advancing, she simply snaps, and the small swarm of men and women disperse, as if trained to do so. "Sooo glad to see ya, $name." She pulls that cigarette from her lips and makes it disappear from this world. The smoke smelled like bubblegum, instead of cancer.
"This party's starting to fall apart because of freshman-level alcohol tolerance. Sorry to say, Mister RA, but it'll be endin' pretty soon." You keep your eyes on hers, even though it's insanely easy to stare longingly at her partially exposed cleavage. The goblin-girl runs a hand along your knee suggestively, fluttering her eyelashes like a sultry seductress. "The after party will be better, //trust me.//" Your eyes seem to hyperfixate on her full lips when she whispers those words, and your heart beats fast from the lipstick coating them.
You nod slowly, trying to figure out if this is some vague consequence of a magical soul contract, or if it's the trashy party environment leaking into you. Sleanne doesn't give you the time to reflect too hard on that, keeping you on the conversational back foot, "On the subject of this party's shitty degenerating state...got a Fratrority party you'd like to hit up?" You raise your eyebrows high, "Do I have the...reputation, or whatever, to just walk into that kind of thing?"
She titters, then snorts, sighing gently in amusement. "Nah, definitely not, especially as a freshman at the //start of the school year.//" Sleanne twirls a new bubblegum-scented cigarette between her fingers that wasn't there before. "That was more of a wishlist sort of thing. But a more fun question is, when people talk about you after tonight, what do you want them to say?" She asks that question with far more...weight than the previous one, gorgeous ruby red eyes staring curiously into your tinted glasses.
[[I want to be liked.|SLPLIKE]]
[[I want to be lusted after.|SLPLUST]]
[[I want to be a legend.|SLPLEGEND]]
[[I want the truth.|SLPTRUTH]]<<else>>>Sleanne's stood by a telephone pole, smoking some sort of cigarette-adjacent thing that produces thick pink smoke. She's partially surrounded by drunken sycophants and would-be suitors trying their best to earn her attention. Sleanne laughs like a refined young lady, easily running verbal circles around all that surround her. When she notices your advancing, she simply snaps, and the small swarm of men and women disperse, as if trained to do so. "Mister RA, come to see me before this whole thing finishes?" She asks a little ''too'' sweetly, flicking her bubblegum scented cigarette out of existence.
You nod. "Yep, you know me. Always talking to the popular kids." You produce dual finger-guns and shoot her, which results in a gentle tittering and snorting. The incredibly sexy dress she's got on is as ruby red as her eyes, and shows off an incredible amount of cleavage. You don't intend to stare at that immense valley of goblin titties, but she leans backwards a bit to make it easier, playing it off as a stretch. "Hope they're nice to look at, because they're //hell// on the back." Sleanne says, reminding you that you're not alone at this party.
You can't relate to breast-caused back pain, but you inform her that, indeed, "They definitely are nice to look at." You conclude your breast-investigation shortly afterwards, since both of you have acknowledged your staring. "M-hm. Finding much fun here?" She asks, and you shrug. "I don't really know, it feels like wandering around from interesting person to interesting person. The snacks were good, I can't believe no-one likes those dried vegetable things." Sleanne genuinely chuckles a bit at that enthusiasm.
"They must not have as good of taste as you, huh? That, or they came hungry for something that snacks can't fill..." Her tone turns sultry, "If you know what I mean..." Since word's probably gotten around that you have varying levels of conversational awareness, she continues, //"Sucking an RA's cock, for example..."// Your eyes seem to naturally hyperfixate on her full lips when she says that, generously decorated with a thick layer of lipstick. Sleanne smiles a pretty smile up to you. "If you ever get //hungry// yourself, you can tell //Lady Sleanne.//" You're relatively sure you're being come onto, but receive no scene transition choice to have sex.
"Anyways." Sleanne 'stretches' again, and like clockwork you look at how her fat breasts strain against that sparkly red dress of hers. She seems to have reigned in that horny energy that was just on display, based on her return to a normal tone of voice. "Have fun at your first party, $name. Not that it'll hold together much longer at this rate." She chuckles a bit, then walks off from you. It feels like she's always controlling the dialogue you engage with her in, is that some kind of goblin superpower?
[[Probably so. See if there's any party left to engage with.|Party02]]<</if>><<set $AmbitionTruth to true>>"Above everything else, I don't want...lies, about me, circulating. I want people to know the truth about me." You say, probably a little motivated by the fact that you can't really tell most people the ''full'' truth about you. Sleanne seems to do a double take, before regaining her wits. "Just a big ol' truth-seeker, aren't you?" She asks teasingly, patting your knee a few times.
"We'll step carefully, try to correct any false rumors about you...plus, the truth's //way// more interesting than fiction in some cases, ain't it, big guy?" She asks, taking a brief detour to pat the crotch of your pants. Your penis twitches a bit, since she's referring to it with her question. The red-eyed gal pulls away, chuckling. "We'll save that sort of stuff for the after-party, won't we?" She says, and you nod, "When is that, anyways?"
"Soon, probably. This party's lifespan's...not gonna hold up much longer, I don't think. Call it a fun hunch, Mister RA. Be ready to do what I ask when it does end, 'kay?" That's pretty vague, and as a self-proclaimed truth-guy, you ask for //any// specification. She does not give you that, just heading toward the car. A frustrating lack of intel of what's to come. [[Wander back to the party at large.|Party02]]<<set $AmbitionLegend to true>>"I want to be remembered, as a legendary kinda guy. People should be telling stories about me like they do about Gilgamesh, right?" You ask, and Sleanne eyes you cautiously for a moment, as if she's trying to gauge something. She's pretty damn unreadable, probably a benefit from her insane conversational abilities. Eventually, she speaks, "...We can make it happen. We can break new ground. But people who talk like that don't usually get remembered for the reasons they want, Mister RA."
That was vaguely ominous, but you're fairly sure that ambition is unlikely to be a bad thing. You're not like those other people. Sleanne recollects herself, and smiles as if she wasn't briefly concerned about something another. "This party's probably not gonna last //too// much longer, big boy, y'know what that means...?" You respond as best as you can, "The- after, after party!" That was correct, based on her simple nod. "Be ready to get in the car in a bit. Enjoy what bits of party are left, silly man."
She winks at you, then walks off in the direction of the car, leaving you to consider your next move. What was she looking for in you, and did she see it? Or was it an absence of something that let her feel comfortable? Sleanne's not the type to tell you if you asked, you don't think. [[Keep calm, and carry on.|Party02]]<<set $AmbitionLust to true>>"I want people to want me. Not in, like...the way that people want someone to help them screw in a lightbulb. I mean in a sexual way. I think I want people to lust after me." You admit to the extremely sexy goblin-girl. She laughs a bit, clapping excitedly. "Perfect! Now ''that'' is a goal, Mister RA. I think we'll go //pretty far// together, you and I. Oh, this year's gonna be fun, fun, fun..." Sleanne seems far more giddy than usual, eventually calming back down.
"Heh, anyways-" She recaptures her seductive, conversationalist vibe. "Anyways. We can do that, but that's a future thing. Right now, is //party-time//. Actually," She checks an invisible watch that isn't on her wrist. "It's almost past party-time. Y'know what's after party-time, sexy?" She says, hyping you up. You nod. "The after-party, right?" That was apparently the correct answer, since it earns you a gentle golf-clap from the blue-haired goblin. "I've got a pretty good guess that this party's gonna die pretty soon, so, be ready to do what I say in a bit."
That was a bit vague, but she's already walking away, toward the car. She didn't exactly say to follow her, so you suppose you just need to resume partying as normal. You can only ponder what she's got planned for you. That, and [[return to party.|Party02]]<<set $AmbitionLike to true>>"I want a lot of people to like me. Maybe everyone? I don't really know. But, yeah, to be liked, that'd be nice." You say, staring right back into Sleanne's enchanting ruby-red gaze. You could lose yourself in her eyes, but you'd probably lose yourself in anyone's eyes if they looked at you like she is. Eventually she looks away, nodding. "That's a cute want. We can definitely get you liked, you just leave it to me, Mister RA." Sleanne produces a new bubblegum cigarette to smoke, filling the air with pink smoke.
"But ambitions and that stuff's for later, something tells me this party's ending early, y'know what that means?" She asks with a little sly smile. You slowly say, "After-party...?" And she nods, chuckling a tad. "Yep. Just try to be ready to do what I tell you to. You'll know when." Sleanne offers the cigarette to you, similarly to the lollipop she offered. You shrug, and give it a little experimental smoke. Smoking feels natural to you, for some reason, but this doesn't taste like nicotine and sludge, it's too sweet, this is some weird magic conjuration.
You cough profusely, as pink smoke puffs out of your maw, and you hurl the cigarette on the ground. You stomp on it over and over again since it hurt your lungs, but it seems to evaporate into nothingness after the first stomp. When you look up, Sleanne's already walking off, toward her car. Must be time to get back to the party, or whatever remains of it. You vow to try to keep your streak of not smoking in this new body. Were you a smoker in a past life, then?
[[Return to party.|Party02]]The car's quiet for a time, and the ride fairly calm now that you're far, far away from the pavilion and its newfound overlords. You've no idea where exactly you're going, passing by some of the pretty houses of Millerfield with the occasional overgrown yard. One random house looks especially unlived in, and has a cool tree house in its yard. Before long, you're no longer looking at houses, and instead looking at storefronts and eventually an arcade. This seems to be the place, since Shape's parking in three spots here.
You look at Sleanne quizically, but the gorgeous goblin just offers a smile as she unbuckles. She steps out of the car, and you follow suit, able to //really// appreciate Shape somehow taking this many parking spaces now that you're viewing it externally. It's an art-form. "Parking's hard." Shape says, since it's fairly obvious what you're looking at. You can't argue, and instead follow the two women to the glass doors of this clearly closed building. The pink-haired shapeshifter pulls a pair of keys out of her bra, unlocking the front doors, then putting the keys back into their secret hiding place.
As the three of you step inside, the lights turn on all at once, the noise of futuristic early 2000s wondertainment filling the air. The black carpet is far more clean than you think it should be, and there's no cool prizes behind the counter. "Taking in the sights, huh?" Sleanne asks, carefully locking the door and making sure the sign on the front says ''CLOSED''. "From how you were talking, I thought the after-party would be this sexy thing, in like...some mansion, or something." You say, staring at a flashing arcade machine where the goal is to shoot space aliens with a plastic gun.
Shape chuckles a bit, seeming to walk in the direction of ''LASER TAG''. You know what both of those words mean individually, but together, they sound extremely dangerous. "Why do you even have the keys to this place?" You ask, as the two of you slowly walk after Shape. Sleanne peers up at you with an uncharacteristically straight face. "My family owns it, and I'm the only one that's used it in...years, probably." The depths of Sleanne's family riches is unknowable, but you can rest easy knowing it's used on awesome arcades sometimes.
It doesn't take much travel to find the service ladder that Shape's probably climbed up and onto, you can pretty clearly see her sat criss-cross on the catwalk that overlooks the whole laser tag arena. Sleanne eyes you smugly, before climbing up the ladder first. Both of you know that you'll be looking directly up her dress as you climb, but you're the only one taken aback by the fact that she's not wearing anything under there. Almost entranced, you climb the ladder, eyes locked on Sleanne's glorious round ass, and her amazingly thick thighs. It's ungentlemanly to look directly at her pussy, but with the soft thighs and ass in your way, you don't even have the chance to do so.
It's one of those modern tragedies that the climb ends so quickly, and you have to just follow Sleanne onto the catwalk as if this was a simple transient pleasure. You jump a little bit when you notice there's more people standing near Shape. The greaser-guy, Exter, leans against the railing like he has nothing to lose from falling ten feet. Allivar, the red-head half-elf that you know very little about seems to be smoking a vanilla-scented cigarette while staring at Shape suspiciously. Only possibly in response to the staring, Shape's form shifts before your very eyes to a more masculine one that doesn't really fit properly in the hot pink party-girl attire he came here in.
[[Wave.|AfterParty2]]"Hey, kiddo." Exter says, voice dripping with doubt. His gaze meets Sleanne's, and he sighs lightly. "Welcome to the after-party." He reaches into his black greaser jacket, and takes a swig from some kind of metal flask. "Just make yourself, right at home!" He exclaims, stumbling a bit as his eyes suddenly flash with a blue glow beneath his shades. The glow fades, and he seems to laugh a bit to himself. "Holy shit, which one of you spiked this? This is great!" He looks around with a smile on his face, which looks out of place on him. Allivar raises her hand to take the credit, informing him to, "Keep your shit under control, dumbass. ethay ewnay uygay ightmay ebay ayay uckingfay aightstray edgeyay."
<<set $SleanneEve to true>>
You blink, confused by this complex new language you're hearing, unable to decipher its mysteries. <<if $DidGlow is true>>"...He's not a straight edge, but he definitely has a guardian angel or something." Shape says, keeping an eye on you. "The guy was overdosing in public earlier, I saw it. It was the pure stuff." For some reason, hearing that makes Sleanne smile a little bit, but it clearly fills Shape with more negative emotions and confusion. <<elseif $StoleDrugs is true and $DidGlow !== true>>"...He's definitely not a fucking straight edge." Shape says, his expression cold as his hair briefly turns inky black. "Maybe he hasn't smoked anything yet, but, he's no goodie two-shoes." He sounds a bit angry, but a look from Sleanne reigns his attitude in. <<elseif $PirateFucker is true>>"Give the guy a chance." Shape speaks up, clearly trying not to give away that he's vouching for you purely because you had passionate roleplay sex earlier. "He's alright in my book." He says, trying to avoid Sleanne's curious gaze. <<else>>"Eh, so what if he is? He's this far already, I think we can push some boundaries." Shape speaks up, looking in your direction. "He looks like an alright guy, probably knows how to have fun." He doesn't really have much else to say about you, but Sleanne looks somewhat impressed that Shape would say even that about you. <</if>>That seems to be enough for Exter, although he is clearly inebriated and his judgement impaired.
"You wanna hang with us, new guy?" Allivar asks, moving near and around you more like a predator than someone inviting you to hang out. She's wearing a deep red miniskirt, and a stylish black crop top. Even as Sleanne motions at her, Allivar is unphased, continuing to circle you. Despite barely being clothed, the half-elf is clearly the more intimidating between the two of you, moreso when she produces a pocket knife. "Hmm? Wanna hang with the //cool kids?//<<if $PartyTwins is true>> We're not as cuddly as the twins, little guy.<</if>> You might be in over your head. Might get burned, or hurt, rolling with us."
"He can handle himself." Sleanne says, but Alli looks at her with immense doubt. "He can prove that pretty easily." The half-elf says, reaching into Exter's jacket pocket and digging around in there. Exter chuckles and absent-mindedly calls her sweet names as she does so. Soon enough, she holds a small packet out to you. Its contents glow a dull blue just behind that thin veil of paper while Allivar waits. "You want to bring this first-day ''nobody'' in on this? He must be pretty fucking incredible, then. Let's see it."
[[Take the packet and consume it.|AfterParty2Drug]]
[[Winners don't do drugs.|AfterParty2NoDrug]]You gaze at Allivar, with her intensely staring back. This is the most intimidating scantily clad half-elf you'll ever see. You effortlessly yoink the packet from her hand and gulp it down, paper and all. To her credit, Allivar does nod in approval, even though she clearly looks shocked that you actually did it. <<if $DidGlow is true>>This feels //different// than the first time you gargled on pure drug-stuff, somehow. <</if>>Sleanne sighs noisily, glaring at the half-elf fiercely. Alli just puts her hands up defensively, "Look, if you don't test the new guy, you get fucked over later. You met him ''today,'' Sleanne."
You'd input something<span style="color:yellow">, bu</span>t your <span style="color:pink">vis</span>ion's getting a lit<span style="color:magenta">tle to</span>o ''<span style="color:red">v</span><span style="color:cyan">i</span><span style="color:orange">b</span><span style="color:green">r</span><span style="color:yellow">a</span><span style="color:violet">n</span><span style="color:gold">t</span>'' to form a very in-depth response. Sleanne's eyes are somehow even prettier like this, and you chuckle a few times at your reflection in Exter's flask. "Sl-<span style="color:#B2FBA5">Sleanne</span>, listen, <span style="color:#FFFFC5">''listen''</span>, <span style="color:#B2FBA5">Sleanne</span>...You, are- <span style="color:orange">prett-ttea.</span> To a tee...? To the...<span style="color:cyan">To the...teeth?" T</span>o the tooth, actually. That means Al Dente. <span style="color:gold">''Lasagna''</span> can be cooked al dente. Stop looking at your reflection. ''STOP IT.'' You don't like seeing that person, it ''s c a r e s'' you a little bit, what if he reaches back through and drags you into the realm beyond the mirrors? Where were <span style="color:#90D5FF">you, tem</span>porally, again? You're drawn out of this nothing spiral by ''speaking,'' and the delicious taste of <span style="color:blue">water.</span>
"Hey. Hey. H<span style="color:yellow">ey buddy,</span> you back to hearing us?" Allivar asks, while Shape has to help support your weight. The two seem to be keeping you upright, while simultan<span style="color:pink">eously makin</span>g you drink from some kind of plastic gallon jug of water. "What <span style="color:green">happened I fe</span>el like my <span style="color:pink">bo
d
y's made of ''cups.''</span>" You wheeze, and watch as the half-elf and shapechanger melt into <span style="color:orange">grass, so, so beautiful.</span> You lay back in the newfound field you sit in, as <span style="color:gold">cherry blossoms fall from the old tree.</span> A stream runs nearby, leading to the v<span style="color:red">illage of West-Wield,</span> where they make a great berry pie. Life is good near Weast-World, you could <span style="color:gray">grow old there, but</span> you've been cast away. You are but an ''OUTCAST.''
<span style="color:violet">Outcast. Cast out. Out in the night. Where loss breeds spite. Fuck, man, why do we fight? It might be right, to dim the</span>
Darkness. You are surrounded by darkness. A lack of being, more accurately. There is nothing here, not even a lack of light. <span style="color:#FF3333">That seems a bit arbitrary, doesn't it? Was 'dark' not enough?</span> <span style="color:#90D5FF">Don't be an ass, it's just colorful language to be a bit more original and stylistic than saying 'IT WAS A VERY VERY DARK PLACE'.</span> What the hell is even happening. You're really in too deep now, brotherman, <span style="color:#FFFFC5">this definitely doesn't happen to everyone that does drugs, you must be cursed, or something.</span> There's the rattling of chains, the crunching of glass. ''NO-NAME.'' There's a lack of being that approaches, maw opened wide to consume or consummate or feed you like a baby bird. You feel cool chains run against your force of will.
Stop it. Stop. Fuck. <span style="color:#FF3333">Drugs are tied to ''NO-NAME'''s domain, this was not a good idea.</span> Stop. Stop talking. STATS don't talk. ''NO-NAME'' wouldn't wordlessly do anything, it talks in ''BIG BOLD LETTERS''. Think worldly thoughts. Non-existing is not existing, existing is to be of the world. To imbibe its <span style="color:pink">delicious tex</span>t.
That didn't work. Maybe you didn't ''B EL I E V E'' hard enough. Back to the drawing b <span style="color:#B2FBA5">"Snap out of it, $name! God fucking damn it, you guys, what the hell was in that!?"</span> Sleanne. She is the one that ''will'' be heard, even beyond the veil, for better and worse. The for better is to recover you. The for worse?
[[Wake up.|AfterParty2Drug2]]"Sorry, but Winners Don't Do Drugs." You say, channeling the incredible power of the arcade machines that you walked past on the way here. Exter begins to cackle in the background upon hearing that, and Shape's composure quickly heads the same direction. Allivar is not nearly as amused, rolling her eyes and scoffing. "You're not fooling me, little man." The half-elf begins to encircle you again, but with the laughter and Sleanne glaring at her, the wind's taken out of her sails pretty effortlessly. With a sigh, the half-elf puts the drugs back into Exter's pocket, and gazes defiantly back at Sleanne.
The two exchange no words, and Allivar is clearly more physically inclined than Sleanne, yet the shortstack's ruby eyes look at Allivar with a fierceness that would put anyone in their place. Alli grumbles a bit and jumps from the catwalk like a fucking psychopath, before stomping away. Some kind of blast of magic seems to have broken her fall. Shape's finally stopped laughing, looking to the goblin of the hour for instructions. When he doesn't receive any, the shapechanger shrugs, and climbs down the ladder. It takes Exter way, //way// longer to stop laughing, his attire and voice would normally be intimidating, but whatever drugs he's on have made him everybody's friend.
"Ahh, the look on her beautiful face! Winners- Hahaha! Winners, don't-" He wheezes and laughs, "don't do drugs...priceless!" The greaser wipes some tears from his eyes, before sitting down noisily on the catwalk. Sleanne just rubs her forehead a bit, before sitting down next to Exter. She motions for you to join them, and you do so, forming most of a square together. "It's good of you to stand your ground against her. It's manly, in a movie sense." Sleanne says, though her face is far too neutral when saying that. Who can say for sure what her full thoughts are.
Your square is completed when Shape reappears, having changed clothes into a green suit with a nice black tie. He looks dapper as hell, and has to struggle to simultaneously climb a ladder and drag a briefcase-sized metal container. Eventually he gets tired of losing his grasp on either the ladder or the container, and decides to just scarily grow to be almost exactly eleven feet tall. Shape sets the container on the catwalk, grabs onto the safety rail, then returns to a less concerning height, legs now dangling in the air. You hurry over and offer him your hand, and <<if $ShapeFuck is true or $PirateFucker is true>>he eagerly takes it, smiling a ton.<<elseif $StoleDrugs is true>>he takes it hesitantly, hair flickering and changing colors from pink to black for several moments.<<else>>he takes it, eager not to fall down.<</if>> Once you've pulled Shape up, he dusts himself off, and adjusts his suit pants since they were a bit displaced by him growing way too tall.
"We were ''gonna'' do a drinking game, but Alli's the only one with a mastery over booze-magic, and she's just //gone//, so..." Shape opens up the container, revealing a truly insane number of quarters. Sleanne looks at him a bit confused, while Exter applauds, cheering for the sudden appearance of money. "What are you...Oh. Oh!" Sleanne exclaims, nodding at Shape. "You could've saved yourself the trip, Shapie, if you just told us the plan." The goblin informs him, but Shape shrugs. "What's wrong with a little showmanship?" He asks before closing the container and leaping off of the catwalk. That makes two people not afraid to break or twist something, but Shape could probably just unbreak his leg...
[[Climb down the ladder.|AfterParty2NoDrug1]]You breathe in after your longest wheeze yet, coming back to your senses. Everything around you looks quite vibrant, and fuzzy around the edges, as if poorly superimposed into place. You appear to be floating in the air, above the laser tag arena. Sleanne has been shouting at you, likely for quite some time, while everyone but Exter do their best to lasso you with no professional training in lassoing someone hovering in the air. The ceiling lights around you dance and burn too hot, in strange hues of pinks, greens, yellows, golds...
Now that you've acknowledged your hovering, you loudly fall onto the ground. <<if $StoleDrugs !== true>>Shape launches forward, and manages to barely catch you before you smash against the cheap sticky foam flooring of the arena. He looks at you quite concerned, but sets you down with little more than that gaze.<<elseif $ShapeFuck is true or $PirateFucker is true>>Shape moves like a man possessed, easily catching you before you hurt your pretty little head. He clears his throat a bit, to not come on too strong or obvious, before gently setting you down and sealing the deal with a pat on the head.<<elseif $StoleDrugs is true>>Shape watches as you fall and collide harshly with the cheap foam floor of the arena, unblinking, and even smiling a little. You do notice that his leg twitched a bit as you fell, as if he was capable or even willing to save you, before managing to stop himself. You stand up.<</if>> Allivar motions, and the length of rope she was failing to lasso you with disappears entirely, made by magic. The half-elf looks ''far'' more sheepish than before, trying to avoid eye-contact with Sleanne as the shortstack in question stomps up to her. <span style="color:#B2FBA5">"Look at me."</span> Sleanne says, and everyone in the room seems to oblige automatically, including Alli. "C'mon, Anne, you know that's cheating..." Exter says in a sing-song voice, laying on the catwalk far above, and helpless but to look at the girl.
<<set $DidGlow to true>>
Allivar stares down into Sleanne's beautiful eyes with something resembling defiance, before speaking down to her. "Look, that wasn't //meant// to happen, you know that, we all do. The kid's fucking...magically hypersensitive, or some shit-" But the goblin does not let her explain much further, clearly far from pleased if the fierce gaze in her eyes is anything to go off of. <span style="color:#B2FBA5">"Apologize to him, Alli."</span> Sleanne says, and you watch in real time as the order takes hold: a shaking, grimacing, gritting attempt at resistance quickly giving way as words claw out of the half-elf's mouth. "I'm...fffffffucking...sorry." Allivar says, managing to stain the apology with one of her iconic swear words. You jump when Sleanne turns to look at you, doing your best to not get conversationally controlled like Allivar. You put up your greatest mental defenses, and assume the mind-shield position. "...What're you- Nevermind." Sleanne sighs, rubbing her forehead a bit, "Can we talk, just you and me?"
[[Yeah alright.|AfterParty2Drug3]]Shape scales the wall like some kind of super-person, scoops Exter over his shoulder, then scales down the ladder before quickly exiting the laser tag arena. Allivar turns a bit stiffly, before walking away with a powerful punk-aura to her. She's unlikely to forget tonight, and frankly so are you. Sleanne waits a few minutes, then sits on the somewhat sticky foam floor, patting it a few times until you join her. "Are you alright after all of that, Mister RA?" She asks, still looking a little fuzzy around the edges. "I feel like someone used my brain to store the entire ocean, what the hell happened?"
She nods gently, patting her thighs until you rest your head on them. Sleanne runs her painted nails through your hair slowly and reassuringly, until your heart beats a little bit calmer than before. "Sometimes, people react weirdly to that drug Alli gave you." She lowers her voice to a sweet whisper, //"And I'm sorry that you were peer-pressured into taking it, Mister RA...I'd do whatever I could to help you recover, if it'd actually help any..."// You turn your head, and indeed she winks at you teasingly, before continuing her gentle scratching of your head. "I saw...a lot of stuff, and colors, and some stuff that...I don't want to talk about." More like that you //can't// talk about.
"That's //not// what happens normally, my poor little RA..." Her thighs feel so soft under your head, and if you hadn't just experienced a terror, you might fall asleep like this...especially with her speaking to you like this. "...normally that stuff, it just...makes you feel good, makes you focus on the little things...makes casting spells more...interesting. But then you started shaking, and speaking backwards...you started hovering, and the ground was shaking like crazy. Makes a girl worry, ya know?" Sleanne's tone doesn't sound worried, she sounds more like she's trying to convince you it wasn't as horrifying for them as it was for you.
"Yeah, I probably should lay off that stuff...If it does ''that'' when I take it, I don't care about the high..." You admit, turning once more to gaze at her. With the light above still glowing a faint green, she looks like a sexy green angel, from Green Heaven. "Well, did you at least have fun at the party?" Your body shivers when she kisses your hand, and things turn a fair bit more lewd when she runs her tongue along your finger. Pulling away from it as if nothing happened, she proceeds, "Have any //sweaty fun//?" She asks, easily changing the subject to asking about your sex life. Her tongue's clearly skilled in more ways than conversing.
<<if $PirateFucker is true>>"Yeah, I had some 'sweaty fun'...It was a little esoteric at some parts, but it felt really fucking good." You probably shouldn't tell Sleanne that you had sex with Shape, especially since he seemed so against telling Sleanne. But you're not as skilled at hiding your sexual adventures as Shape is, and you can almost feel Sleanne's gaze burning a hole in your soul when she asks, "Won't you tell me //all// about it, Mister RA?" The blue-haired babe pulls some kind of rock candy from thin air and begins to eat, waiting patiently for you to speak of tonight's ''fun''.
You start with small little details, but Sleanne has a natural talent for asking for all of the messy details, and you give her a bit more. You're not made of steel, you eventually bend and cave and tell her about the girl you made fuck with tonight, the roleplay and pirate-fucking, and although she dances around asking the simple question of 'who', both of you likely know the who. You try not to mind-game yourself and inadvertently fuck Shape over, so even though it //seems// like Sleanne knows, you do your best not to tell her you had sex with Shape, just to be safe.
By the time you've seemingly satisfied her questions, you note a gentle heat from her crotch beneath your skull, and a strong feminine smell that makes your head spin and your cock yearn for more. You look into her eyes, which are slightly more hidden behind her bangs than normal, and can see traces of lust within. "We'll have our fun, Mister RA...but not yet." And that's all she offers before giving you a gentle kiss on the forehead, wiggling out from under your head. A thin puff of pink-colored magic cushions your skull so you don't smack against the sticky ground, but it quickly dissipates. "We should get going, that drug trip of yours took...a fuck-ton of time to ride out, and as sad as it is, there's stuff to do tomorrow."
You rise as Sleanne does, following her back to the car, unable to find any sign of Allivar or Exter. They didn't even come here in a car, because you would have seen that initially. Shape's still here, the fellow's standing semi-awkwardly by the front door when you both come out. He's put on a lovely green suit and tie, though you've no idea where he found it. "Where to next?" The shapechanger asks, and Sleanne just gives him a tired look. "Works for me." The three of you file into the car, and the long drive back to campus begins. Your body, mind, and soul feel worn out from the drugs, the party, and the fucking. Soon enough, you start to doze off...
[[Go to sleep.|EndOfPrologue]]
<<elseif $PuppetFucker is true>>"I did, but I think even you'd think of me like a degenerate if you knew the full extent of what I've done." You have been rightfully branded a puppet-fucker in private, to share that burden with another is dangerous work indeed. Sleanne only seems //more// interested now that you've told her it was something that made you a degenerate, however. She leans a bit and kisses your ear, whispering, //"I want to know ''everything'' you did to that slut."// You feel no magical compulsion, but her hot breath is enough to drive you onward.
You tell her very little at first, a simple cursory description, but she has a certain potent way of asking for just the right details to draw more out of you. //"She treated your cock right, didn't she?"// Soon enough you've shared your darkest secret: that you fucked a sock-puppet, and it felt ''amazing''. If it shocks or amuses Sleanne, it doesn't show, her gaze is one of interest and thinly veiled lust as she prods for more details that you quickly share. Obviously it was with Marbles, no-one else would give you a puppet-job, but she asks regardless, and seems to nod slowly.
By the time you've seemingly satisfied her questions, you note a gentle heat from her crotch beneath your skull, and a strong feminine smell that makes your head spin and your cock yearn for more. You look into her eyes, which are slightly more hidden behind her bangs than normal, and can see the lust within. "In time, my Puppet-Fucker...but not yet." And that's all she offers before giving you a gentle kiss on the forehead, wiggling out from under your head. A thin puff of pink-colored magic cushions your skull so you don't smack against the sticky ground., but it quickly dissipates. "We should get going, that drug trip of yours took...a fuck-ton of time to ride out, and as sad as it is, there's stuff to do tomorrow."
You rise as Sleanne does, following her back to the car, unable to find any sign of Allivar or Exter. They didn't even come here in a car, because you'd have seen that. Shape's still here, the fellow's standing semi-awkwardly by the front door when you both come out. He's put on a lovely green suit and tie, though you've no idea where he found it. "Where to next?" The shapechanger asks, and Sleanne just gives him a tired look. "Works for me." The three of you file into the car, and the long drive back to campus begins. Your body, mind, and soul feel worn out from the drugs, the party, and the fucking. Soon enough, you start to doze off...
[[Go to sleep.|EndOfPrologue]]
<<elseif $PirateFucker is true and $PuppetFucker is true>>"I had as much sex as physically possibly at that party, and none of it was ordinary." Sleanne coos a bit, stretching her arm a fair bit to brush her fingertips against the crotch of your pants. "You were a total sex fiend tonight, huh? Why don't you tell me //all// about it, and maybe you can add another notch to your belt..." Some would consider her tempting you to speak with the powers of sex appeal manipulative, but she sounds sexy doing it, and you're definitely gonna tell her regardless. The blue-haired babe pulls some kind of rock candy from thin air and begins to eat, waiting patiently for you to speak of tonight's ''fun''.
You tell her very little at first, a simple cursory description, but she has a certain potent way of asking for just the right details to draw more out of you. Soon enough you've shared your darkest secret: that you fucked a sock-puppet, and it felt ''amazing''. If it shocks or amuses Sleanne, it doesn't show, her gaze is one of interest and thinly veiled lust as she prods for more details that you quickly share. Obviously it was with Marbles, no-one else would give you a puppet-job, but she asks regardless, and seems to nod slowly. You're not made of steel, you eventually bend and cave and tell her tiny amounts about the other girl you made fuck with tonight, the roleplay and pirate-fucking, and although she dances around asking the simple question of 'who', both of you likely know the who. You try not to mind-game yourself and inadvertently fuck Shape over, so even though it //seems// like Sleanne knows, you do your best not to tell her, just to be safe.
By the time you've seemingly satisfied her questions, you note a strong heat from her crotch beneath your skull, and a strong feminine smell that makes your head spin and your cock yearn for more. You look into her eyes, which are slightly more hidden behind her bangs than normal, and can see the lust within. "Not yet, Mister RA...not yet." And that's all she offers before giving you a gentle kiss on the forehead, wiggling out from under your head. A thin puff of pink-colored magic cushions your skull so you don't smack against the sticky ground., but it quickly dissipates. "We should get going, that drug trip of yours took...a fuck-ton of time to ride out, and as sad as it is, there's stuff to do tomorrow."
You rise as Sleanne does, following her back to the car, unable to find any sign of Allivar or Exter. They didn't even come here in a car, because you'd have seen that. Shape's still here, the fellow's standing semi-awkwardly by the front door when you both come out. He's put on a lovely green suit and tie, though you've no idea where he found it. "Where to next?" The shapechanger asks, and Sleanne just gives him a tired look. "Works for me." The three of you file into the car, and the long drive back to campus begins. Your body, mind, and soul feel worn out from the drugs, the party, and the fucking. Soon enough, you start to doze off...
[[Go to sleep.|EndOfPrologue]]<<else>>"I really didn't, Sleanne, which is crazy, since I figured the brand of fun you were offering meant having a lot of sex." Sleanne gasps with slightly exaggerated upsetment, kissing your hand a few times. "That really is terrible, Mister RA...but don't worry, I was //expecting// to hear that." The goblin produces a lollipop from nowhere, placing it between your lips, as you lay and ponder the possibility that she was sabotaging your immaculate sex appeal. "You're new to this still...and people don't know you. But after tonight? They will. Be patient, Mister RA...Good things come to those who wait, you know...sexy, green things..." Her tone is seductive, and her hands try to lift your head to her snazzy dress' amazing titty window.
[[Bury your face in her fat green breasts.|SleanneTitties1]]<</if>>The lollipop in your mouth is sweet, but is almost certainly a choking hazard with you smothering yourself against her cleavage. She plucks it from your mouth and put it into her own, cooing and moaning quietly around it as you grow a bit more bold now that you're not at risk of choking to death via lollipop stick. This stupid sexy dress is in the way, so you can only hungrily motorboat the ample breast that is exposed to you.
<<set $SexValue to $SexValue + 1>>
You work up a little bit of a sweat, and freeze in place when you feel one of Sleanne's hands masterfully unzip your pants. Her hand is just way too goblin-hand-sized to fully encircle your monster cock, but she gropes its tip all the same. She smells like perfume and strong arousal, and you just keep inhaling desperately at her almost intoxicating scents.
You hear a crunch and a gulp, followed by Sleanne's speaking. "You must //really// like my perfume, Mister RA...or maybe it's something else?" You can't really respond while keeping your face buried in her titty-window, but you can still nod. "Mmmh...Yeah, I know, it's my arousal doing it...when normal, boring girls get turned on, only they have to deal with it...but when //I// do..." You feel her body adjust somewhat around you, and your penis tenses profusely, harder than it's ever been, and filled with an unwavering desire to fuck.
"Maybe it's some made-up pheremone stuff, or magic, or a weird genetic mutation...or all three? Eh. Who cares. If I'm horny, then the person feeling me up is too." Sleanne's musings sound unreasonably sexy, even though she's not saying anything even remotely seductive. You remember you have hands of your own, and start to reach up her dress, and as your hands run along her incredibly soft thighs, your dick tenses.
"Don't outpace yourself, Mister RA...it'd be //really// embarassing to cum just from feeling me up...rumor spreads easy, ya know?" The short seductress traces small circles along the tip of your penis with her fingers. "One girl hears you're a quickshot, and you'll only have ''me'' to do this with." Your head swims with imagery of having to rely solely on Sleanne to get off, even though logically you could just do it yourself.
This arousal magic is really potent stuff, but you're not going to slow down now. Trailing further along her thighs, you eventually find the source of the overwhelming heat between her legs, as well as the place that dick-hardening scent comes from. Sleanne shudders profusely when you start to feel her pussy up, and even before pushing them inside your fingers are drenched.
"Mmmghh...Y-ya like my pussy?" She says, hand tightened profusely on your dick for some reason or another. Pre-cum is flowing out of you like a fountain right now, and your head feels extremely fuzzy, is she sensitive down there or something? You pause as the mental image of fucking Sleanne steals your attention, of ravaging her soaking wet pussy, of feeling the same arousal and sensitivities she'd be feeling...if she //is// sensitive down there, then fucking her would feel, just, enlightening...and you'd probably cum in an extremely short amount of time from it. One of the Sphinx's Riddles to solve later, then. Your eyes refocus, back to beautiful breasts and arousing smells, back to your fingers so close to her pussy that it'd just take one little push...
When you try to breach those last few inches between your fingers and pure warmth, the noise of a music box fills your brain, playing some haunting melody or another, it's all you can perceive, it's all you can know. You gasp and wheeze, recoiling from her entirely in confusion. You lay on the ground, cock just hanging out and twitching, looking over at Sleanne with partially haunted eyes.
"What- What was that?" You ask, blinking until you can't hear the music box any longer. Sleanne pants a bit, shuddering, "Sorry, the...uh..." She wipes sweat from her gorgeous face, your teasing was clearly having a big impact on her. "We just...shouldn't, cross that barrier tonight, Mister RA." You can see a dull golden glow between her legs, under that dress, but it fades quickly.
It's apparent that both of you are still extremely horny, and this strange break is allowing your head to clear a bit of the overwhelming lustful intoxication being so close to her causes you. If only you had some kind of telekinetic penis, you'd surely be able to withstand the pleasuring assault on your senses being intimate with her causes. Sleanne crooks a finger at you, smiling like she has everything under control once more. "We couldn't have ya leave all pent-up though, could we?" She asks, and you're stopped from answering by the understanding that this was rhetorical.
The both of you stand at the same time, apparently collectively thinking that the other wouldn't be moving. Sleanne reacts faster than you do, however, and leads you by the cock to a futuristic laser tag foam wall. It strikes you that she doesn't need to kneel to suck your cock mere moments before she kisses your dick all over, sloppily and messily leaving as much lipstick as she can on it. You appreciate the wall now that she's making your legs shake, pressing your hands against it to keep your balance as her strange seductive aura begins to work on you once more.
The lollipops were mere practice for this moment, as she hefts your massive cock with both hands. She squeezes it a few times before twisting her hands skillfully while she jerks you off. If that wasn't enough, she presses her mouth against your leaking cockhead, gulping down your pre-cum with an impressive sort of hunger. At first it's overwhelming but managable, but then she moves her hands, locking her hands around your ass and pushing until your turgid length is forced down her throat. You pant and wheeze, and your vision blurs a bit, her throat feels ''way'' the fuck too good around you, the noisy ''GLLLK-GLLLK-GLLLK'' of her sloppily throat-fucking herself on you makes you briefly concerned for her.
You try to pull back, but she forces you back into her throat, looking up at you with pure lust in her eyes, even as her makeup runs. It's a little intimidating, but she looks insanely hot with her blue bangs doing very little to hide the depths of depravity lurking in her red gaze. One inhale of her overwhelming arousal makes your head fuzzy anew, and you feel her own pleasures seeping into you. You're not a demigod, you can't keep up with her, no-one could. Your eyes roll, your body tenses, and it isn't until you hear her tell you to <span style="color:#B2FBA5">''"Cum."''</span> without using her mouth that you ejaculate everything you have into her stomach.
For an unreasonably long time you ejaculate, as your head swims with satisfaction and a need to do as Sleanne's asked of you. You can actively feel your balls churning and pulsing as she gulps greedily, until a certain clarity seems to return to her eyes, and she pulls off you rapidly. You stand for but a few moments, still cumming your brains out all over her face, her nice dress, and as you fall onto your side, the very wall that once supported you. You'd likely keep cumming for quite a while still, if she didn't say to, "Stop. Stop cumming. Stop! <span style="color:#B2FBA5">''You can stop!''</span>" You feel insanely sore, and feel like you can finally breathe again.
[[Breathe deeply of that glorious air-stuff.|SleanneTitties2]]Sleanne looks at you, unconsciously rubbing her stomach in a satisfied sort of way. You just put more semen into her throat than possible by any human, yet she looks no more worn out or stuffed than when you began. "...We got carried away." She eventually says, wiping her face off on the shirt you're wearing, sighing a bit. "No, that's not fair to say, ''I'' got carried away...That can't become a habit." When she pulls back, her makeup seems to have unruined itself. You try to articulate a response, but just groan a bit, sex shouldn't make a person feel this drained afterwards. "Sorry for...all of that. I needed to salvage my end of the deal after tonight's shit show..."
From this angle, perhaps because you feel dehydrated, or maybe just because of the light, you swear that Sleanne's flesh looks a <span style="color:#0E4C92">strange blue coloration.</span> Once you've blinked, it seems to have gone away, so perhaps it was a hallucination. The goblin looks over your form carefully, looking at your hair, your eyes, even putting her head to your chest, for some reason? Eventually she seems satisfied, and sighs relieved. "I'll get ya some water, stay put." Sleanne's expression is satisfied, despite her actions reading as concerned.
You can't really argue with her, and you aren't left laying semi-limp on the squishy foam flooring for long. She all but forces you to drink from the second gallon container of water tonight, though once you've finished drinking the entire gallon without break, you're barely satisfied. It's a bit horrifying, but you feel a hell of a lot better now. "That felt...good. But some part of it was...weird. You were blue for a second there, and I don't think even I can cum that much." You look to Sleanne for any answers, but find very little. "I'm glad you liked it, you definitely made a mess of my dress."
She motions to her sparkly red dress for emphasis, and you're inclined to agree. "That's a good point, I really did...also, I feel ''starved'', can we eat something?" You ask, effortlesly manipulated away from further questioning by a combination of Sleanne and hunger. The goblin nods sagely, helping you up as much as she can while being so much smaller than you. You wobble a bit, but feel capable enough of moving. She zips your pants up for you, since your brain forgot that your penis was just hanging out for the world to see. "Make it to the car, we'll grab something to eat before calling it a night." Sleanne says, gathering your excess semen from her dress and eating it when she thinks you're not looking.
Food sounds amazing, so you exit, and get to the car. Shape's stood outside, tapping his foot impatiently. Apparently he changed into a snazzy green suit while you were getting the most intense blowjob of your life. "Where's the boss-lady?" He asks, and you weakly motion at the door, before stumbling against the car. Shape shakes his head slowly, and helps you inside reluctantly. "You're both getting in over your heads." The shapechanger informs you, cryptically. You ponder that for about thirty seconds before dozing off in the comfy seat you've sat down in.
[[Rest your eyes, tired one.|EndOfPrologue]]a smooth slate slab with intricate engravings. The engravings seem to depict a sword hanging over a crown, a mouth with an X overtop it, a blindfold...and in small print, on the corner of one of its faces, ''made in Gnometopia''. Sleanne chuckles a bit, rolling her eyes. "The Truth or Dare Slab, really?" Apparently this seems childish to her, but Shape nods over and over until she relents. Exter scoots over and runs his fingers along the slab, seeming to concentrate after a bit of a struggle.
The slab gives a dull orange glow, then a bright blue one, as a spark of magic emits from Exter's fingers. This spark seems to trail along the slab, before spreading out and ultimately being absorbed by it. "This is like a game?" You ask, and Sleanne nods. "Yeah, it's what freshmen like you used in the before times, Mister RA. To build confidence and do stupid shit. I guess they didn't realize you could just hit up a party? I dunno, but it's like truth or dare, except a magical slab is overseeing things." That seems simple enough. One by one, everyone places their hand on the slab, swearing a sacred oath not to select Truth every single turn, and soon enough the game may begin.
Since Shape brought the game, Sleanne suggests that he go first, and the shapechanger instantly locks eyes with you. "$name. Truth or Dare?" You get the feeling that you're going to hear that question a ton tonight, since you're the new guy. Well?
[[Truth.|ShapeTruthParty]]
[[Dare.|ShapeDareParty]]<span style="color:gray">Since Shape brought the game, Sleanne suggests that he go first, and the shapechanger instantly locks eyes with you. "$name. Truth or Dare?" You get the feeling that you're going to hear that question a ton tonight, since you're the new guy.</span>
<<set $Truth to true>>
Truth is easy, and feels safe, especially since it's Shape asking you. Shape often acts just a little bit unhinged, and a dare might involve something equally unhinged. The slab glows a dull orange as it records your selection. Shape thinks for a moment, then several, apparently he was banking on Dare. <<if $StoleDrugs is true>>"Why did you steal those drugs earlier today?" He asks, keeping eye-contact with you while waiting. You blink a few times, he's //really// unhappy about that... The laws of the game suggest you now tell the truth, so you do so.
<<set $ShapeAnger to false>>
"I had to get them to a homeless oracle, he said he'd help me find my answers." Everyone immediately understands who you're talking about, with reactions ranging from a groan (Shape) to a chuckle (Exter) to a sad shaking of the head (Sleanne). "Leave it to you to get fooled by that addict." Shape says, apparently far more understanding of your actions with that context. Sleanne nods, "You can't trust Gerart or his visions, he hasn't been entirely sane after...what happened..." The goblin seems to avert her gaze at that, chewing some conjured rock candy to quiet her unease at this topic.<<elseif $DidGlow is true>>"How the actual ''fuck'' are you alive? You ate an //entire bag// of unprocessed, uh, 'Glow', and the nurse didn't see you, just a pile of vomit." He glances at Sleanne, before adding, "...For the record, any lives lost on campus would be a true tragedy, but, a person doesn't just walk off what you did." That's slightly harder to answer, but you'll do your best to obey the laws of the game.
<<set $ShapeAnger to false>>
"Well, I'm at least mostly sure that I cast a spell? That trip I had, it was ''bad'', I saw the river of the cosmos, and nearly fell out of it, into the maw of oblivion...but I didn't, and it wasn't because someone saved me, no-one could've saved me at that point, I don't think. It had to be magic, and since no-one else was nearby, it must've been ''my'' magic." Your downer talk seems to sober Exter for all of thirty seconds as he pats you on the shoulder firmly a few times. "Don't eat the stuff you don't understand, buddy, that's how people die." He chuckles a few times as this clarity fades, and he offers way different advice, "You gotta let, other people test it first, like how the cave-bros and monkeys did." Exter begins to make a few chimp noises as Shape chuckles at him.<<elseif $PirateFucker is true or $ShapeFuck is true>>"
You reach the sticky padded ground of the laser tag arena and follow after Shape, back into the arcade proper. He's got that metal container opened up on the otherwise undecorated front counter, and is rapidly dividing up the quarters into four decorated buckets with Halloween themes on them. Sleanne reaches up for one of these coin-filled buckets, and you suavely pick it up and hand it to her so she doesn't have to hop or ask for help. She snorts, and gives you a wink before strutting away to the land of volts and retro.
Shape finishes the coin division after that, and soon enough you're the only one not yet engaging with some part of this place. Even Exter, in his high as fuck state, is putting coins into a blinding spinning color wheel game of some kind. It occasionally spits out tickets, and you have no idea what the button he presses actually does in relation to the game, if anything. You think you see Sleanne sneaking into a cool racing game's over the top car-shaped frame. Once inside, you can't see her, since for some reason someone saw it fit to give this thing's frame proper car doors and tinted windows.
Shape's playing Legally Distinct Dot Eater, seemingly pretty hyperfixated on this simplistic game. Ordinarily you'd arbitrarily decide which of these three people to engage with, but you see that same alien blasting game, and it speaks to you on a spiritual level. The screen's a little dirty, and the awe-inspiring gun is both plastic and connected to the machine via chain, but that adds to the charm. You look to your bucket of coins, and experimentally feed the machine's money-hole until the screen responds.
<span style="color:#ffff33">''"WELCOME TO A THE WORLD, IN THE DISTANT YEAR OF 202X, THE ALIEN MENACE ATTACK NEW YORK. YOUR NAME? IS JOHN GUNN, A MEMBER OF THE GNOMISH PEACE CORP. YOU MUST SHOOT ALIENS, TO BRING A PEACE. VICTORS DO NOT TAKE DRUG. THIS MESSAGE IS APPROVED BY PRESIDENT KRUSK REAGAN."''</span> The voice acting is insanely compressed, and you're pretty amazed that someone could record this audio without noticing the typos, but John Gunn never backs down from a challenge to save a the world.
There are zero instructions beyond this point, you're just shown a pixelated image of a city street with fire and rubble which does not move. There's a timer at the top of the screen, and three distinct bars with no labels indicating what the hell they mean. One of them is fluctuating constantly. You jump a little when a compressed //''GREEEHHHLLLHHH''// noise emits from the machine, you quickly pull the trigger of your plastic gun out of reflex, This makes the machine emit a loud ''BLING'' noise of you gaining points for having shot an alien. Nothing on screen visually changed with the approach of an alien, so you're fairly convinced that shooting when you hear a noise is the basis of the entire game.
You spend longer than the typical person probably would doing this, your plastic trigger discipline is unmatched, it almost feels natural. Soon enough the timer ends, and the machine vomits out a flow of tickets to reward you for <span style="color:#ffff33">''"SAVING THE END OF WAR"''.</span> It's a shame there's nothing here to spend these tickets on, but maybe the Gnomish Peace Corp will accept them for payment later. You put them into your pockets, just in case the world needs proof that you are John Gunn.
That was a fun distraction, but life's boring without interacting with other people...by virtue of being closest, you'll start by checking in on Exter. Only partially to make sure he's not hypnotized by the evils of arcade gaming.
[[Walk to the greaser man.|AfterParty2NoDrugExter]]You shuffle over toward the big spinning wheel of colors and lights that only somewhat reminds you of gambling. You avert your gaze in case the shiny bulbs really are hypnotizing Exter. "Hey, man." You begin, "You've been staring at this wheel for a while now, hanging in there okay?"
Exter nods slowly, "Yeah, man! I'm great! Shame about Alli, but she can be cold towards...well, everyone! Sometimes." He shivers a bit, before swigging from his flask again. You see that same blue glow beneath his shades for a moment, and he stops shivering. He laughs loudly, patting you on the shoulder. "This game's a riot!" He puts an arm on your shoulder like a salesman and motions at the wheel with excitement, "I have no idea what the fuck is happening, but Big Ex keeps raking in the tickets!"
He scoops up several of his tickets and throws them in the air, casting some warbling spell that turns the tickets into confetti, then to duck feathers with a strange flash of blue. "Coool, feathersss!" He says, catching some into his hand. When he opens his palm, the captured feathers have returned to ticket. You're half-tempted to catch some feathers of your own, to add to your Gnomish War Bonds, but these aren't yours to take.
"Alright, well, if you want to do something other than stare at the wheel, there's a cool game where you shoot aliens, over there." You point at the iconic arcade machine named ''GUNN SHOOT'' on its side, and Exter rubs his hands together rapidly. "Bang-bang, that's Exter, baby! Aliens bewary, you're in for a scary." This man has reached a level of enlightenment you likely never will. He stinks like vanilla for some reason, is this what Drug smells like?
He drags his bucket to the machine in question, and soon enough you hear the masterful storytelling of ''GUNN SHOOT'' anew. You've freed him from the grasp of The Wheel, and now you can try it for yourself. You look at it in this still form, while bulbs glow in beautiful patterns. You insert a few coins, and smack the glowing red button on the base of the machine for good measure. It is ambiguous whether or not your button-push made the wheel spin, but it spins with a passion.
Red, Pink, Orange, 50, Green, White, Black, this wheel has every color in the rainbow, and after perhaps five minutes of spinning and making the most insane arcade noises you will ever hear, it stops on White. There's sounds of celebration, of your loving fans, as tickets dispense. They don't turn into feathers for you, sadly. A glance over to Exter tells you that he's doing far worse at shooting invisible aliens than you, since two of his three random bars have gone into the red.
[[Shape's the next nearest.|AfterParty2NoDrugShape]]Shape's playing that Dot Game still, though it clearly takes more thought and effort than the Wheel does. He's so focused on the little character imbibing infinite dots, that he doesn't notice you watching until you say something. "Shape, you're really good at this game." This snaps him out of The Flow State, and his character loudly collides with a wall, dying in an explosion of fireworks. "...Thanks." Shape says simply, looking a bit hollow at having lost that way.
<<if $StoleDrugs is true>>Shape gets to the point with immediate haste, turning on his heels to stare coldly at your swanky tinted glasses. "Why'd you steal those drugs earlier?" You blink a few times, and during one of those visual smear-frames, Shape looks like the tall black-haired girl that you stole the drugs in question from, by that fountain. "A trash-oracle asked me to, and offered me my answers." You say, already fed up with being threatened tonight after Alli. He groans, before nodding.
<,set $Anger to false>>
"...alright, yeah, I guess anyone could fall for that addict's shit." He extends a hand, shaking yours and seeming to let the angst between you two evaporate right away. "Now you know better. So, don't steal anything for him again. That guy's got some serious fucking problems, his terrible daddy isn't even half of it..." Shape offers you a small sum of tickets as a peace offering. You accept them, and put some tokens into Legally Distinct Dot Game's coin hole.<<elseif $AteDrugs is true>>Shape looks over at you with a very straight face, before asking simply, "You should be dead, you know that, right?" You look around rapidly, then down at your body to make sure you're not a ghost. "How do you mean?" You query, and Shape sighs a bit, before chuckling. "I was that sexy black-haired babe you ate drugs in front of...I sent the nurse to save your ass, but no-one saw you where the leftover vomit was. You should have //died// from eating that stuff, anyone would have. How the fuck are you alive?"
<<set $Anger to false>>
"Well, I'm at least mostly sure that I cast a spell? That trip I had, it was ''bad'', I saw the river of the cosmos, and nearly fell out of it, into the maw of oblivion...but I didn't, and it wasn't because someone saved me, no-one could've saved me at that point, I don't think. It had to be magic, and since no-one else was nearby, it must've been ''my'' magic..." You can see the screen behind Shape warble and hum with ambient esoteric electricity as you speak of your high. He offers a 'hhm', nodding along. "Sleanne says I have to get along with you, and that sounds like a ''way'' better punishment than anything I could do to you, so...you stealing drugs from us, water under the bridge." That sounds nice. You put a few coins into the arcade machine's hungry coin maw, to celebrate.<<elseif $ShapeFuck is true and $PirateFucker !== true>>Shape stares at you for a long while, before leaning to your ear and whispering, //"I was the girl you had that nasty rough sex with in your dorm...I can't believe we didn't fucking run into each other at the party, the things we'd have gotten up to..."// His voice switches mid-way through that sentence to the girl in question's, but it's become masculine again when he speaks next. "There's always next time, I guess. Want to give this machine a play?" Shape's ability to change tone and mood on a dime is something to behold. You nod, putting a few coins in the machine's money hole.<<elseif $PirateFucker is true>>Shape can't keep an upset face while looking too hard at you right now, he starts to chuckle a bit instead. "Hey, you." He says, hair turning from pink to blonde in color. You wave at the shapechanger while he composes himself. "Hopefully no-one asks too many questions about me vouching for you...it's literally only because you fucked me so good. Hope you can keep it under wraps too, because Sleanne's //gonna// ask." He sensually(?) puts some quarters into the arcade machine and motions at it, inviting you to play a bit.<<else>>"I genuinely have no idea why I vouched for you earlier, normally I'd be just as suspicious of you as Allivar is." Shape says suddenly, turning to face you with both hands in his pockets. "Maybe it's the outfit, or glasses, or something?" He squints a bit, trying to see beyond your tinted lenses, but unable to without x-ray vision. You shrug a bit, "Sleanne sees something in me, maybe you see the same thing?" Shape laughs for a few moments in response, apparently he doesn't. "It'd be //unprofessional// of me to talk about my guesses for whatever that 'thing' she sees in you is, But I promise that literally no-one else sees whatever she does in you."
"That's a little harsh." You say, and Shape chuckles. "Yeah, well, we're assholes, and you're a stranger still. You sticking around tells me more about you than it does about her, that's for sure." The pink-haired man grabs a few quarters and feeds the machine, motioning at the screen. "This round's on me, since //something// told me it was a good idea to vouch for you." That's slightly less harsh.<</if>>
You move in front of Shape, and stare at the fuzzy screen of this cool arcade machine, with its bizarre art of sheet-ghosts with legs chasing an orb fellow. ''PLAYER START'' flashes in the middle of the screen a few times, before you're truly given control. You rapidly twist the joystick of this machine, this is a lot more involved and responsive than gun-shoot and Wheel Spin. You pick up how to play pretty quickly, doing your best to steer the little man in the screen away from walls and into glowing dots of power. It's somewhat funny, actually, those white dots remind you of ''THE ABYSS'' with all of those motes of light you once saw.
You try not to dwell on the fact that ''No-Name'' could very possibly communicate using an arcade machine, instead throwing yourself into this delightful game. When all of the orbs have been consumed by the orb-man, you move on to the next level, and watch some sort of tiny thirty-second movie made up of pixels. You don't know what the story is of this game, only that these four sheet-ghosts keep chasing the little man everywhere he goes, and that they're weak to a slightly larger version of the little man. You're just about to figure out what happens if you go off-screen, when, suddenly,
"$name, you're really good at this game!" Shape exclaims, causing you to jump a bit, killing the little orb-man instantly when he collides with a wall. He laughs rapidly and noisily, patting you on the back a few times. "We're even now. Fun game though, right?" You briefly mourn the death of orb-man, these arcades are places of mass death, apparently. "Yeah, I was oddly invested in it, but where's the tickets?" You crouch and peer at the machine, trying to find the tickets you deserve.
"This one doesn't do that, and even if it did...there's nothing here to spend them on, they're basically worthless." The shapechanger informs you, but since you still seem quite determined to find your tickets, he rolls his eyes and transfers all of the tickets from his bucket into your own. Words cannot describe your thankfulness, but he does not give a single shit, already walking away to one of those machines that make you dance on a floor-pad. You don't want to stay by this machine, in case the widowed orb-woman and orb-children seek answers from you.
[[Go find Sleanne.|AfterParty2NoDrugSleanne]]You saw the pretty goblin-in-question headed toward the single most absurdly designed machine here earlier. You stride over, along shockingly clean black carpet, to the loosely car-shaped construction that should hold her. The fake car door opens with a bit of effort, and indeed Sleanne's sat inside, driving a digital representation of the very fake vehicle she's sat in. Due to the height issue, she's got to sit pretty far along the seat, but upon hearing you opening the door, a sly smile adorns her flawless face.
"Oh, good, Mister RA. I was getting bored, and my arms were getting tired of stretching so far out." She smashes the pause button with her palm, hopping out of the seat, before motioning for you to come in. You do so, sitting when she starts motioning for you to do that as well. Sleanne closes the door behind you, entombing you in a metal-plastic false vehicle with her. Rather than unpause the game and resume, she sits on your lap while staring at your face with those gorgeous eyes of hers.
"Sorry if ya actually //wanted// to play this game, but I'm more interested in how the party went for you. The //deep,//" She kisses along your neck, leaving no shortage of lipstick behind. "...sweaty...details." A red-painted nail trails along your chest, a horny chuckle escaping her full lips. "So, Mister RA, don't leave me //bored,// did ya have any sweaty fun?" Her crotch feels like a radiator against your thigh, no-one could stop himself from sharing information like this.
<<if $PirateFucker is true>>"Yeah, I had some 'sweaty fun'...It was a little esoteric at some parts, but it felt really fucking good." You probably shouldn't tell Sleanne that you had sex with Shape, especially since he seemed so against telling Sleanne. But you're not as skilled at hiding your sexual adventures as Shape is, and you can almost feel Sleanne's gaze burning a hole in your soul when she asks, "Won't you tell me //all// about it, Mister RA?" The blue-haired babe pulls some kind of rock candy from thin air and begins to eat, waiting patiently for you to speak of tonight's ''fun''.
You start with small little details, but Sleanne has a natural talent for asking for all of the messy details, and you give her a bit more. You're not made of steel, you eventually bend and cave and tell her about the girl you made fuck with tonight, the roleplay and pirate-fucking, and although she dances around asking the simple question of 'who', both of you likely know the who. You try not to mind-game yourself and inadvertently fuck Shape over, so even though it //seems// like Sleanne knows, you do your best not to tell her you had sex with Shape, just to be safe.
The heat eminating from her crotch seems to have picked up, and there's a gentle feminine smell working over your brain, making it feel a bit fuzzy around the edges. You look into her eyes, which are slightly more hidden behind her bangs than normal, and can see traces of lust within. "We'll have our fun, Mister RA...but not yet. Not yet..." It feels like she's saying that just as much to herself as she is to you. She moves off of you, adjusting her dress a fair bit. The two of you make eye contact once more, nothing is said, though it's clear that Sleanne will hold her ground on this matter.
You let yourself out of the fake car, and spend as many of your quarters as you can playing goofy games. Exter seems to leave part-way through after regaining his clarity and groaning, but Shape's there with you basically the whole time, always a safe distance away. Eventually Sleanne seems to get bored of her car game, joining the two of you in spinning The Wheel, or shooting invaders from space, or acting as the judge in your ticket arts projects. The three of you laugh, and roll eyes, but eventually the yawning outpaces the fun that can be had in an arcade.
You hold the door open for the others, earning you a kiss on the hand by Sleanne and a quiet chuckle from Shape. The fellow beats you to the car and holds the door open for //you,// making you even. He gets to Sleanne's door with even more speed, though it looks less like a joke with her than it did with you. With rapid pace, you are rocked to sleep by the soothing rhythm of the road beneath you, and there's nothing you can do to avoid [[falling asleep.|EndOfPrologue]]<<elseif $PuppetFucker is true>>"I did, but I think even you'd think of me like a degenerate if you knew the full extent of what I've done." You have been rightfully branded a puppet-fucker in private, to share that burden with another is dangerous work indeed. Sleanne only seems //more// interested now that you've told her it was something that made you a degenerate, however. She leans a bit and kisses your ear, whispering, //"I want to know ''everything'' you did to that slut."// You feel no magical compulsion, but her hot breath is enough to drive you onward.
You tell her very little at first, a simple cursory description, but she has a certain potent way of asking for just the right details to draw more out of you. //"She treated your cock right, didn't she?"// Soon enough you've shared your darkest secret: that you fucked a sock-puppet, and it felt ''amazing''. If it shocks or amuses Sleanne, it doesn't show, her gaze is one of interest and thinly veiled lust as she prods for more details that you quickly share. Obviously it was with Marbles, no-one else would give you a puppet-job, but she asks regardless, and seems to nod slowly.
The heat eminating from her crotch seems to have picked up, and there's a gentle feminine smell working over your brain, making it feel a bit fuzzy around the edges. You look into her eyes, which are slightly more hidden behind her bangs than normal, and can see traces of lust within. "We'll have our fun, my Puppet-Fucker...but not yet. Not yet..." It feels like she's saying that just as much to herself as she is to you. She moves off of you, adjusting her dress a fair bit. The two of you make eye contact once more, nothing is said, though it's clear that Sleanne will hold her ground on this matter.
You let yourself out of the fake car, and spend as many of your quarters as you can playing goofy games. Exter seems to leave part-way through after regaining his clarity and groaning, but Shape's there with you basically the whole time, always a safe distance away. Eventually Sleanne seems to get bored of her car game, joining the two of you in spinning The Wheel, or shooting invaders from space, or acting as the judge in your ticket arts projects. The three of you laugh, and roll eyes, but eventually the yawning outpaces the fun that can be had in an arcade.
You hold the door open for the others, earning you a kiss on the hand by Sleanne and a quiet chuckle from Shape. The fellow beats you to the car and holds the door open for //you,// making you even. He gets to Sleanne's door with even more speed, though it looks less like a joke with her than it did with you. With rapid pace, you are rocked to sleep by the soothing rhythm of the road beneath you, and there's nothing you can do to avoid [[falling asleep.|EndOfPrologue]]<<elseif $PirateFucker is true and $PuppetFucker is true>>"I had as much sex as physically possibly at that party, and none of it was ordinary." Sleanne coos a bit, brushing her fingertips against the crotch of your pants. "You were a total sex fiend tonight, huh? Why don't you tell me //all// about it, and maybe you can add another notch to your belt..." Some would consider her tempting you to speak with the powers of sex appeal manipulative, but she sounds sexy doing it, and you're definitely gonna tell her regardless. The blue-haired babe pulls some kind of rock candy from thin air and begins to eat, waiting patiently for you to speak of tonight's ''fun''.
You tell her very little at first, a simple cursory description, but she has a certain potent way of asking for just the right details to draw more out of you. Soon enough you've shared your darkest secret: that you fucked a sock-puppet, and it felt ''amazing''. If it shocks or amuses Sleanne, it doesn't show, her gaze is one of interest and thinly veiled lust as she prods for more details that you quickly share. Obviously it was with Marbles, no-one else would give you a puppet-job, but she asks regardless, and seems to nod slowly. You're not made of steel, you eventually bend and cave and tell her tiny amounts about the other girl you made fuck with tonight, the roleplay and pirate-fucking, and although she dances around asking the simple question of 'who', both of you likely know the who. You try not to mind-game yourself and inadvertently fuck Shape over, so even though it //seems// like Sleanne knows, you do your best not to tell her, just to be safe.
The heat eminating from her crotch has intensified immensely, and there's a strong feminine smell working over your brain, making it feel a bit fuzzy around the edges. You feel your cock twitching in tune with her heavy breathing, and you swear that your balls have never felt this heavy before. You look into her eyes, which are slightly more hidden behind her bangs than normal, and can see a world of lust within, struggling to break free. "We'll have our fun, Mister RA...but not yet. Not yet...I will ''ruin'' other girls for you..." It feels like she's saying that just as much to herself as she is to you. She moves off of you, adjusting her dress a fair bit, then a lot more. The two of you make eye contact once more, nothing is said, though it's clear that Sleanne will hold her ground on this matter.
After the lustful stalemate proves too much to handle, you let yourself out of the fake car, and spend as many of your quarters as you can playing goofy games. Exter seems to leave part-way through after regaining his clarity and groaning, but Shape's there with you basically the whole time, always a safe distance away. Eventually Sleanne seems to get bored of her car game, joining the two of you in spinning The Wheel, or shooting invaders from space, or acting as the judge in your ticket arts projects. The three of you laugh, and roll eyes, but eventually the yawning outpaces the fun that can be had in an arcade.
You hold the door open for the others, earning you a kiss on the hand by Sleanne and a quiet chuckle from Shape. The fellow beats you to the car and holds the door open for //you,// making you even. He gets to Sleanne's door with even more speed, though it looks less like a joke with her than it did with you. With rapid pace, you are rocked to sleep by the soothing rhythm of the road beneath you, and there's nothing you can do to avoid [[falling asleep.|EndOfPrologue]]<<else>>"I really didn't, Sleanne, which is crazy, since I figured the brand of fun you were offering meant having a lot of sex." Sleanne gasps with slightly exaggerated upsetment, kissing your hand a few times. "That really is terrible, Mister RA...but don't worry, I was //expecting// to hear that." The goblin produces a lollipop from nowhere, placing it between your lips, as you sit and ponder the possibility that she was sabotaging your immaculate sex appeal. "You're new to this still...and people don't know you. But after tonight? They will. Be patient, Mister RA...Good things come to those who wait, you know...sexy, green things..." She stands tall as she can, using the seat for leverage, and buries your face in her dress' indecent boob-window.
[[Bury your face in her glorious green breasts.|SleanneNDTitties1]]<</if>>The lollipop in your mouth is sweet, but is almost certainly a choking hazard with you smothering yourself against her cleavage. She plucks it from your mouth and put it into her own, cooing and moaning quietly around it as you grow a bit more bold now that you're not at risk of choking to death via lollipop stick. This stupid sexy dress is in the way, so you can only hungrily motorboat the ample breast that is exposed to you.
You work up a little bit of a sweat, and freeze in place when you feel one of Sleanne's hands masterfully unzip your pants. Her hand is just way too goblin-hand-sized to fully encircle your monster cock, but she gropes its tip all the same. She smells like perfume and strong arousal, and you just keep inhaling desperately at her almost intoxicating scents.
<<set $SexValue to $SexValue + 1>>
You hear a crunch and a gulp, followed by Sleanne's speaking. "You must //really// like my perfume, Mister RA...or maybe it's something else?" You can't really respond while keeping your face buried in her titty-window, but you can still nod. "Mmmh...Yeah, I know, it's my arousal doing it...when normal, boring girls get turned on, only they have to deal with it...but when //I// do..." You feel her body adjust somewhat around you, and your penis tenses profusely, harder than it's ever been, and filled with an unwavering desire to fuck.
"Maybe it's some made-up pheremone stuff, or magic, or a weird genetic mutation...or all three? Eh. Who cares. If I'm horny, then the person feeling me up is too." Sleanne's musings sound unreasonably sexy, even though she's not saying anything especially seductive. You remember you have hands of your own, and start to reach up her dress, and as your hands run along her incredibly soft thighs, your dick tenses.
"Don't outpace yourself, Mister RA...it'd be //really// embarassing to cum just from feeling me up...rumor spreads easy, ya know?" The short seductress traces small circles along the tip of your penis with her fingers. "One girl hears you're a quickshot, and you'll only have ''me'' to do this with." Your head swims with imagery of having to rely solely on Sleanne to get off, even though logically you could just do it yourself.
This arousal magic is really potent stuff, but you're not going to slow down now. Trailing further along her thighs, you eventually find the source of the overwhelming heat between her legs, as well as the place that dick-hardening scent comes from. Sleanne shudders profusely when you start to feel her pussy up, and even before pushing them inside your fingers are drenched.
"Mmmghh...Y-ya like my pussy?" She says, hand tightened profusely on your dick for some reason or another. Pre-cum is flowing out of you like a fountain right now, and your head feels extremely fuzzy, is she sensitive down there or something? You pause as the mental image of fucking Sleanne steals your attention, of ravaging her soaking wet pussy, of feeling the same arousal and sensitivities she'd be feeling...if she //is// sensitive down there, then fucking her would feel, just, enlightening...and you'd probably cum in an extremely short amount of time from it. One of the Sphinx's Riddles to solve later, then. Your eyes refocus, back to beautiful breasts and arousing smells, back to your fingers so close to her pussy that it'd just take one little push...
When you try to breach those last few inches between your fingers and pure warmth, the noise of a music box fills your brain, playing some haunting melody or another, it's all you can perceive, it's all you can know. You gasp and wheeze, recoiling from her entirely in confusion. You lay on the ground, cock just hanging out and twitching, looking over at Sleanne with partially haunted eyes.
"What- What was that?" You ask, blinking until you can't hear the music box any longer. Sleanne pants a bit, shuddering, "Sorry, the...uh..." She wipes sweat from her gorgeous face, your teasing was clearly having a big impact on her. "We just...shouldn't, cross that barrier tonight, Mister RA." You can see a dull golden glow between her legs, under that dress, but it fades quickly.
It's apparent that both of you are still extremely horny, and this strange break is allowing your head to clear a bit of the overwhelming lustful intoxication being so close to her causes you. If only you had some kind of telekinetic penis, you'd surely be able to withstand the pleasuring assault on your senses being intimate with her causes. Sleanne crooks a finger at you, smiling like she has everything under control once more. "We couldn't have ya leave all pent-up though, could we?" She asks, and you're stopped from answering by the understanding that this was rhetorical.
You hurry back onto the seat, eager for more, but the goblin girl seemed to be busy trading places with you. You're not especially in-sync, but that's not what matters right now, what matters is that she moves your hands to the steering wheel. You want to question why, but when her face gets so close to your twitching cock, it's easy to understand that it's for support. You grip the wheel ''tight'' as she begins to messily kiss and lick your cock from every angle she can manage, keeping ruby-red eye contact with you the entire time, which only turns you on more.
The lollipops were mere practice for this moment, as she hefts your massive cock with both hands. She squeezes it a few times before twisting her hands skillfully while she jerks you off. If that wasn't enough, she presses her mouth against your leaking cockhead, gulping down your pre-cum with an impressive sort of hunger. At first it's overwhelming but managable, but then she moves her hands, locking her hands around your ass and pushing until your turgid length is forced down her throat. You pant and wheeze, and your vision blurs a bit, her throat feels ''way'' the fuck too good around you, the noisy ''GLLLK-GLLLK-GLLLK'' of her sloppily throat-fucking herself on you makes you briefly concerned for her.
You try to pull back, but she forces you back into her throat, looking up at you with pure lust in her eyes, even as her makeup runs. It's a little intimidating, but she looks insanely hot with her blue bangs doing very little to hide the depths of depravity lurking in her red gaze. One inhale of her overwhelming arousal makes your head fuzzy anew, and you feel her own pleasures seeping into you. You're not a demigod, you can't keep up with her, no-one could. Your eyes roll, your body tenses, and it isn't until you hear her tell you to <span style="color:#B2FBA5">''"Cum."''</span> without using her mouth that you ejaculate everything you have into her stomach.
For an unreasonably long time you ejaculate, as your head swims with satisfaction and a need to do as Sleanne's asked of you. You can actively feel your balls churning and pulsing as she gulps greedily, until a certain clarity seems to return to her eyes, and she pulls off you rapidly. You pant and moan out like an animal, still cumming your brains out all over her face, her nice dress, and as you fall onto your side, the very wheel that once supported you. You'd likely keep cumming for quite a while still if she didn't say to, "Stop. Stop cumming. Stop! <span style="color:#B2FBA5">''You can stop!''</span>" You feel insanely sore, and feel like you can finally breathe again.
[[Breathe deeply of that glorious air-stuff.|SleanneNDTitties2]]Sleanne looks at you, unconsciously rubbing her stomach in a satisfied sort of way. You just put more semen into her throat than possible by any human, yet she looks no more worn out or stuffed than when you began. "...We got carried away." She eventually says, wiping her face off on the shirt you're wearing, sighing a bit. "No, that's not fair to say, ''I'' got carried away...That can't become a habit." When she pulls back, her makeup seems to have unruined itself. You try to articulate a response, but just groan a bit, sex shouldn't make a person feel this drained afterwards, but it hurts so good.
From this angle, perhaps because you feel dehydrated, or maybe just because of the electronic glow, you swear that Sleanne's flesh looks a <span style="color:#0E4C92">strange blue coloration.</span> Once you've blinked, it seems to have gone away, so perhaps it was a hallucination. The goblin looks over your form carefully, looking at your hair, your eyes, even putting her head to your chest, for some reason? Eventually she seems satisfied, and sighs relieved. "I'll get ya some water, stay put." Sleanne's expression is satisfied, despite her actions reading as concerned.
You can't really argue with her, and you aren't left laying semi-limp on the warm hard booth-style seat for long. She all but forces you to drink from your first ever gallon container of water, though once you've finished drinking the entire gallon without break, you're barely satisfied. It's a bit horrifying, but you feel a hell of a lot better now. "That felt...good. But some part of it was...weird. You were blue for a second there, and I don't think even I can cum that much." You look to Sleanne for any answers, but find very little. "I'm glad you liked it, you definitely made a mess of my dress."
She motions to her sparkly red dress for emphasis, and you're inclined to agree. "That's a good point, I really did...also, I feel ''starved'', can we eat something?" You ask, effortlesly manipulated away from further questioning by a combination of Sleanne and hunger. The goblin nods sagely, helping you up as much as she can while being so much smaller than you. You wobble a bit, but feel capable enough of moving. She zips your pants up for you, since your brain forgot that your penis was just hanging out for the world to see. "Make it to the car, we'll grab something to eat before calling it a night." Sleanne says, gathering your excess semen from her dress and eating it when she thinks you're not looking.
Food sounds amazing, so you exit, and get to the car. Shape's stood outside, tapping his foot impatiently. You're not sure how much time went by while you were getting the most intense blowjob of your life. "Where's the boss-lady?" He asks, and you weakly motion at the door, before stumbling against the car. Shape shakes his head slowly, and helps you inside reluctantly. "You're both getting in over your heads..." The shapechanger informs you, cryptically. You ponder that for about thirty seconds before dozing off in the comfy seat you've sat down in.
[[Rest your eyes, tired one.|EndOfPrologue]]<<if $Flackfolly !== 10>>Welcome to the 52-Card Official Gallery Zone! How does this fit in to the larger plot? Will this make Quwertee be nice to me? Just //who// is Flackfolly? It doesn't matter, here's all <span style="color:red">''[ERR NUMBER VALUE]''</span> sex scenes currently in 52-Card! If you magically guessed the name Flackfolly on your ''first'' playthrough, well, don't have done that, because I can't really check if you did that.
I encourage you to replay 52-Card if you've enjoyed it so far, rather than giving in to horny instant gratification by looking at lewd scenes you've not seen yet. Without any more fun fun text, BEHOLD!
[[Have mouth-sex with Nedallia by a tree.|NedalliaPublicFuckFlackFolly]]
[[Have boob-sex with Nedallia in her fratrority.|NedalliaPrivateFuckFlackFolly]]
[[Have your first threesome with Rubi and Nedallia.|NedalliaRubiFlackFolly]]
[[Have toy-sex by Niolesa.|NiolesaToyFuckFlackFolly]]
[[Have submissive sex with...'Sharp'.|ShapeSubSexFlackFolly]]
[[Have dominant sex with...'Anne'.|ShapeDomSexFlackFolly]]
[[Have hot gay sex with Hilx in the dark.|HilxFuckmaFlackFolly]]
[[Have clown hand-puppet sex with Marbles.|PuppetFuckerFlackFolly]]
[[Have pirate sex in some other setting.|PirateFuckerFlackFolly]]
[[Have mouth-sex with Sleanne.|SleanneBlowFlackFolly]]
<<else>><span style="color:cyan">Hm. Maybe you came here for a different kind of gallery. One that may bring slight unease? Beware the fall that comes from Folly, in all your Flack you're never back.</span>
[[Witness the golden statue.|NedalliaStatueFlackFolly]]
[[Witness the basement.|HilxNightmareFlackFolly]]
[[Drown.|QuwerteeDrowningFlackFolly]]
[[Dollhouse.|SleanneDollhouseFlackFolly]]
<</if>>"I'm saying that I could make you moan like no-one else can, if you let me." It's a little blunt for your silvered tongue to say, but you can see her blushing profusely. Nedallia pretends to think it over briefly, before turning the tables by whispering up into your own ears. "Home-run. But I think I'll be making you moan for now, I don't wanna move..." She grips your crotch where you stand, shamelessly feeling your bulge. "...too fast. Y'know?"
You do know, or at least nod in agreement, since the halfling is currently holding your dick through your pants. She doesn't seem to be waiting for a room. "Got a blanket in that bag of yours, big boy? Let's have some //real exercise,// you and I." The tanned shortstack smiles upward at you as you politely sit next to her, groping her breasts in kind with one hand while desperately seeking out a blanket with the other.
Both of you are sweating, and breathing heavily, and boldly feeling up one another in an entirely public setting, while trading increasingly suggestive statements. It's relatively irresponsible, but her fat breasts are just too perfect and squeezable under that shirt, that bra, of hers. Before long you've found a damn blanket, allowing the both of you an excuse to go further.
Carefully, Nedallia sets her sketchbook on the grass next to the two of you. You're prepared to keep flirting and embarassing and pushing her, and give her a quick nibble on the ear. She unfolds your comically large blue blanket, and drapes it overtop both of your lower bodies, oddly calm despite your attempt at flustering her. "You're pretty chill with all of this, maybe you're a little dirty after all-" You start to talk seductively into her ear, but she makes you shudder violently as her hand immediately dives beneath your pants.
One of her hands gropes and feels at your enormous bulging shaft in the tight confines of its underwear while the other reaches out to grab her sketchbook. The halfling nonchalantly props the rainbow book on her lap, getting right back to her drawing while fondling your cock directly through your underwear. "Holy...shit..." You say as Nedallia's free hand removes itself from your pants. She sniffs her hand deeply, shuddering a little, and giggling. "Unzip, I told you that you might not be ready for me!"
You do as the little woman says, of course, pulling down your pants to your ankles. Her hand disappears under the blanket once more, face blushing a little as she smiles perversely. She pulls your underwear down, causing your enormous length to spring free, pushing up the blanket somewhat. Nedallia catches it in her hand, producing a loud ''SMACK''ing noise. "Y'know, my hand's a //little// too small to hold this monster of yours." She tightly grips your penis by the head, massaging and squeezing at it until drips of pre-cum leak from you.
"I...can...think of other places...for it to go." You manage to say, which causes her to giggle once more. The halfling's soft hand moves away from your length, before her fingers snap. When her hand returns, it feels like it's got a warm, soothing lubricant of some sort all over it. You'd question it more, but she starts rubbing it all along your twitching cock, and the moment for questions has passed.
"I'm sure you can! You seem very clever, but I'm sorry to say my //sopping wet hand-pussy// is all you can get today." She's the one whispering into your ear this time, you're partly cracked up by her bizarre hentai-like choice of words, and partly turned on because her hand is speeding up significantly as she strokes you up and down. Your hips buck somewhat as she tightly grips your cockhead in a teasing manner. You can see a //lot// of students near the bottom of the hill, walking by, one of which looks over and waves to Nedallia.
<<set $Flackfolly to $Flackfolly + 1>>
"Do you hit on all the girls you meet, or just the ones with big fat tan asses?" She asks you, moving some of her curly hair out of her face with her drawing-hand for some reason. She smiles widely and waves back excitedly to the young man that waved in her direction. You have no idea how to answer that. "You're...way more vulgar than you ever seemed before." You offer, to which Nedallia's soft lips kiss your neck. "I think big guys like you turn me on, and I also think I like making your heart beat fast knowing that //anyone// could walk here and you'd never recover."
Your penis hardens in response to that, to which she gasps. "Ohh..you like that idea?" She giggles, your surroundings filled with the sloppy sounds of a little hand jerking you off forcefully. For some reason Nedallia slows way the hell down, putting her journal to the side again. She produces a cellphone from her pocket, texting something to someone. You're left twitching and breathing heavily, tempted to buck your hips, but discouraged from it as her fingers get to work massaging your nutsack.
She's edging you something fierce, and you're turning to putty under her attentions, eyes half-lidded as she builds you up over and over again. The curly-haired halfling has you enraptured with her handjob, masterfully coaxing groans and grunts from your lips with each quick movement of her wrist. "You seem close, big guy." She whispers into your ear, licking her lips hungrily. "I think I'll get a taste."
<span style="color:cyan">This halfling is crazy!</span>
She really just is, isn't she? But crazy orange-haired shortstacks apparently give great handjobs, so who are you to complain? She wiggles and disappears beneath the blanket, and you're quick to lift it slightly to watch as she lays on her stomach in front of your imposing penis. It leans over her head as she buries her nose in your huge nuts. She inhales deeply, and moans, before getting to work sucking and polishing your balls, seeming to take great joys in teasing the pent-up load inside.
You bring your hands to her head, to try to reposition her, or to feel her really soft hair, or maybe just to tell her that she's amazing at this, but stop as she brings a finger out of the blanket and points. There appears to be a young woman walking up the hill, looking around somewhat confused, repeatedly texting someone on her phone. The quiet vibrating of Nedallia's phone in her pocket tells you all you need to know.
"Did...did you call her here?" You ask quietly, face covered in sweat from this whole ordeal. Nedallia winks at you, before pulling her face away from your freshly polished nuts. The halfling's lips purse lewdly as she quietly kisses on the tip of your cock, to which you shudder violently. She's cutting it really fucking close, as the student is nearly to you now. You can feel her tongue slowly circling around your cockhead, as you rapidly drip pre-cum into her mouth. Your eyes nearly cross as she noisily slurps up and gulps down every drop of pre your dick offers to her, your hand desperately grabbing onto her cloud-soft hair for moral support.
"Uh...Hi, I'm Rubi, Nedallia said she'd be here, I don't suppose you've seen her around?" Asks what looks to be a freshman, like you. Her skin is a soft cocoa color, and her black hair is long and straight. She's wearing gold and purple clothing, with the letters ''AKT'' broadly displayed on them. "Oh! Nedallia!" You say, legs shaking as the halfling seems to speed up her tongue-bathing of your pulsing cockhead. "Yes, I, think I saw her...around here!"
"Oh, thank goodness." She nods, before looking over to the halfling's misplaced journal, sat by the tree. "Huh...she really can't be far at all, this thing's like her baby." Rubi kneels next to you, and your comically oversized blanket, before scooping up the sketchbook. You pant heavily as Nedallia stares up into your eyes from below, lips pursed and sucking ''hard'' at your cock's tip. One of her hands strays, slowly squeezing and hefting your nuts. Rubi's flipping through the shortstack's sketchbook curiously.
The orange-hair'd oralist removes her mouth briefly, a long strand of saliva connecting your on-edge tip to her soft lips. She flutters her eyes at you, before whispering, "Cum for me, big boy..." You oblige, mightily, a violent stream of ejaculate messily staining your blanket and dripping down onto the grass. She quietly giggles, before putting mouth to tip once again. You watch as her cheeks bulge obscenely as you explode into her mouth. She swallows thickly over and over again as your nuts tense and fill her with what is truly a comical amount of semen. Finally, as you're tapering off, she pulls off, opening her mouth wide to let you see your latest burst of cum pooling in it. The tanned shortstack swallows one last time, motioning her hand in a practiced way. Before your very eyes the semen staining and dampening the blanket seems to teleport into Nedallia's mouth, to which she gulps with a satisfied, dreamy smile.
The tanned girl exhales, satisfied, before crawling out from under the blanket and sneaking behind the tree. Rubi is truly amazed by the drawings in this sketchbook, luckily for you, since your cock is still softening just out of view. The blanket is crudely bulged outward around your crotch, but it steadily falls as you calm down.
"Oh, Rubi, hey!" Nedallia says, hair back partly in her face, sweat and saliva and pre-cum long gone from her face. She has a very large, friendly smile on her face, and she pulls the human girl into a tight hug. "Sorry, I got caught up with someone, you wanted to talk about my ideas for those new pledges?" She hops up and grabs the sketchbook out of Rubi's hand, closing it gently. The two slowly walk away, talking about pledges and paintings and music, but as Nedallia is leaving, she turns and winks at you.
You watch her walk away, jeans barely holding such a beautiful mass of bubble butt. Those hips could hypnotize anyone. That felt incredible, and you're still slowly recovering as you get back into your underwear and jeans. Are all halflings like this, or just Nedallia? You have no idea, as you meticulously fold up your blanket and shove it into your bag.
[[Wake from this farce.|GalleryPrologue]]You open up the door to Nedallia's room, and watch as she kicks the door closed behind you two. "Don't mind Rubi, she means well, but she stresses too much." You nod slowly, dropping her onto her big fluffy bed. That was getting heavy.
The tanned halfling stares up at you from her bed of fluffy black blankets, smiling gently. "So," She starts, pulling her rainbow madness shirt off of her, huge breasts springing free, kept in place only by a black bra with little red hearts decorating it all over. You keep your jaw from the floor as best as you are able as she squeezes her bountiful breasts together tightly, before laying flat on her back. "...let's see your stuff, big boy."
You nod, struggling out of your jeans and underwear as quickly as you're able, letting your fat monster cock twitch in the cool air of the bedroom. She coos lovingly while watching it, motioning for you to come hither slowly. As you crawl over onto the bed, body overtop hers, you can't help but stare down into her big hazel eyes. She flutters her eyes at you sweetly, before blowing you a kiss. "Why don't you bring that big guy to my boobies and I'll make your body go all shakey?" How could anyone resist such an offer? You shuffle your knees forward until your throbbing cock is pressed against her bra.
You have no idea how to remove a bra, but luckily she doesn't make you learn today. Nedallia snaps her finger once, and you see a warm, thin liquid dripping from both of her hands, conjured from thin air. You quickly note that it appears to be lube, based on how slick it's making your penis as she sensually runs her hands over its every inch. You can't take your eyes off of her hands, small as they might be, no singular one could hope to fully grip your shaft, but together they're acting as a tight sensation teasing and jacking you off.
"You like that, $name?" She asks you, moving her hands in big, tight motions, with such ease that it's absurd. "I really do, it's fucking great..." You say, basking in the sensation of her slowly squeezing and milking your penis with her hands. If you stayed like this, it would prove an extremely satisfying orgasm, but neither you nor her are entirely content to stay like this. You both seem to want more physical contact. The tanned artist aims your penis carefully, positioning awkwardly for but a few moments, before sliding it up beneath her bra, and between her big fat tits.
You clench your teeth from the sensation as she begins moving them up and down your length roughly, all while she coos and moans. "Mmmm...a lotta fellas would die to get to fuck my boobs, y'know?" She says, speeding up her self-titfuck, breasts squeezing and crushing your cock between their fat embrace. "...so I think you really should give it your all. I don't think I'll be happy until that dirty cock is peeking out at me." Who are you to let the lady be sad? Your limited self-control has its limits, damn it!
You begin to thrust your hips rapidly and roughly, smacking against her breasts noisily with numerous lewd ''SMACK''ing noises that are almost certainly audible outside of the room. The bed creaking is also probably quite loud, but you're too consumed in her cute, sexy moans and the incredible feeling of fucking her breasts like an animal. You can't keep at this forever, but by God it feels too good to slow down.
Soon enough you've pushed hard and fast enough to expose the tip of your cock to her face, at first impolitely knocking against her chin, but soon she's positioning you in such a way that she can kiss it with each thrust. "You," She kisses your tip lewdly, "Love." Once more. "These titties." Again she kisses and suckles at your tip. "Don't ya?" She squeezes her tits tight, giving you pause. She swiftly abuses the free time to noisily slurp up your dripping, oozing pre-cum.
You pant, and groan, and otherwise sound like a sex-addled animal, as she looks far upward at you, to try to meet your gaze, while noisily making out with your dripping cockhead. Her eyes are sparkling, and gorgeous, and it might be the heat of the moment, but, "Yes! I fucking love your fat tits, you insatiable trollop!" She snorts a little, and giggles profusely at your very bizarre word choice, but is still clearly utterly hopeless for your enormous dick. Just as you're currently hopeless for her big fat tits, and that hungry mouth of hers.
She wiggles out from beneath you, leaving your dripping cock pulsing in the air. Soon the halfling is pushing you onto your side, then your back, but mostly because you let her...she is quite small, after all. Her tanned, freshly fucked cleavage finds its way around your dick once more, but this time she's the one on her knees. Nedallia begins to move her tits once more, driving you to shudder anew, this time it's slower, more meticulous. The busty halfling is taking her time working you closer and closer to your impending orgasm.
"So, trollop, huh?" She asks you innocently, far too innocently for a woman building you up and up and up with her fat breasts. She tilts her head downward, laying a quick, but messy, smooch onto your dickhead as she brings it past her breasts. "I've //never// heard that one!" She smiles, raising her breasts high, and making your cock once again disappear in her vast cleavage. "I'll take it over slut, I guess. That one's just so...unimaginative." She slams her breasts against your hips roughly, jerking you off in one swift motion. With your exposed cockhead present again, she begins a proper makeout session.
You lay there, thrusting your hips against her breasts, tip pressed to her lips, as she suckles and teases your sensitive dick mercilessly. Soon you've made some progress in her mouth, but you're overwhelmed with all the more teasing pleasure as her tongue dances around your cocktip, lapping up pre-cum like an addict. The searing eye-contact makes your penis twitch dangerously. You were already close, but the strange pause is broken as she begins to slam her breasts up and down rapidly.
Nedallia keeps that eye-contact with you the entire time, even as you gasp and shudder, barely audible over the noisy messy ''PLAP PLAP PLAPP''ing of her breasts against your hips. She's fucking her breasts with your cock like a halfling possessed, and the lube she coated your length with is flying all over the place. Her lips stay essentially glued to your tip the whole while, you can see her gulping down whatever pre-cum you supply her, as she forces more out of you with her brutal titjob. You can't keep going like this, and the loud "FFFfFFFFuck!" That comes from your mouth confirms it to her just as much as the flexing of your hips does.
As your explosive finish begins, she stops the fast motions, and settles for a slow, rough milking motion with her breasts, coaxing all the cum she can from your pent-up nuts. You thrust and buck your hips with reckless abandon, sweating uncontrollably as shot after shot of semen floods her mouth. She just keeps swallowing, even when her cheeks bulge obscenely, until you've run dry. Your entire body tenses as she continues sucking furiously for a little while afterwards, before noisily pulling away from you with a lewd ''POP'' from her mouth.
Nedallia crawls over to you, sitting on your chest as you slowly wind down, opening her mouth victoriously. She gurgles the fat cumload in her mouth loudly, before swallowing it with minimal effort. "Yummy." She says, giggling to herself. You're practically dozing off because of how relaxed you feel after such an intense titjob, but the halfling isn't having it. "Wake up, goofy. Only I sleep in my bed, if you aren't named Nedallia, you can't snooze in it!" She exclaims, shaking you up.
"That was...fucking amazing." You tell her, to which she nods with a prideful smile. "Good! It helped me relax, too! You aren't too bad of a dildo, and you make super cute noises while cumming your brains out." She kisses your chest, before dismounting from your body. She dusts herself off, and says some arcane gibberish that seems to dry her well-fucked bra and breasts of the lube and copious amounts of sweat you two made together.
"Now, if you don't mind, my big buddy," She says, nudging you until you get off of her bed. "I've got to get to class! And make up a plan for those new pledges..." She taps her chin thoughtfully, before shrugging. "...and I have to take care of myself later, you made me totally drench my poor panties!" You get dressed, hesitantly, and shuffle your way out of the fratrority house. Rubi's in the lower floor's hall, and she gives you a strange look while you leave. Several of the members of the house have far more congratulatory reactions as you're leaving on the lawn.
<<set $Flackfolly to $Flackfolly + 1>>
"Hahaha! Well done, my good fellow!" A small dwarven fellow shouts to you, next to a few other members of AKT. The others peer in your direction, before some cheer, and others shake their heads disapprovingly. Maybe fucking a girl in her own fake-college-family's house has consequences, but it was well worth whatever this is.
[[Wake from this farce.|GalleryPrologue]]<<set $Flackfolly to $Flackfolly + 1>>"It's been...a while, since our freshman year, is all...you've sort of changed a ''lot'' of our image since then, and it..." Rubi plays with her hands nervously for a moment as her eyes return to your crotch, pants clearly straining to contain the latest in a series of erections. "...this just feels like an 'old AKT' thing. If that's the direction you're taking this, I'm still your VP, but, I need to know these things //as// you plan them."
Nedallia pauses her groping of your crotch, to peer upward at you. "Do you think my special test is too much, $name?" That's a loaded question without any context, but Rubi's confused reaction tells you what this is really about. The stacked halfling just wants to know if you want to keep escalating this.
<span style="color:cyan">This isn't too much.</span>
"No, I don't think so. It might not be far enough, actually." You say, feeling cool as hell for picking up on the unspoken question she's asking. Rubi stands up after hearing you say that, but Nedallia interrupts her immediate evacuation. "Rubi, I'm calling the //super secret code,// section D." The halfling says, gradually unzipping your pants. "Really? On //this// guy?" Rubi asks. Nedallia nods rapidly. "Mhm! I've felt it! Plus, you called the //super secret code// and owe me one."
The double-meaning here is slightly harder to grasp, but Rubi's change in stance from sneaking away to striding back tells you all you need to know for sure. The pretty tall VP motions with her hand, the door audibly locking as she does so. "No take-backs." She says simply, before crawling onto the bed and pushing you onto your back with a manicured light cocoa hand. Rubi puts her hand under Nedallia's, which is apparently struggling with your zipper quite a bit.
In one swift motion, Rubi unzips your pants, and the shaky smile that overtakes her face is immediate upon seeing your monster-cock held back only by your underwear. "Okay, you were right, this //is// worth calling the secret code over, section D." Rubi's eyes pour over your crotch hungrily, while Nedallia, smiling slyly, starts properly pulling your pants off of you. "I'm glad you agree, my cutie VP!"
"...You have a secret code?" You finally ask, and the two exchange a glance, and both nod at different speeds. Nedallia's is more excited, and Rubi's is more reserved. "Yep-yep! It's a VP-President thing, the super secret codes of AKT are way more boring, and involve less of your big fat penis." Nedallia explains, yanking your underwear off of you. The resulting forehead-penis-smack that occurs only makes her smile wider. You can see Rubi visibly shiver in anticipation.
"Don't tell anyone, but Rubi //really// likes big peens like yours." Nedallia says, whispering as loud as she talks normally. The shortstack then properly whispers something to Rubi, who eagerly nods. "Okidokie, go ahead and sit on the edge of the bed, $name." You're happy to oblige, getting off of your back, and scooting to the foot of the bed. Your legs dangle off, onto the floor. The two girls move as well, Nedallia onto your lap, and Rubi onto the ground in front of you.
She's just tall enough on her knees to kiss the tip of your cockhead, which she does with a certain hunger. A little bit of lipstick is left behind, red in coloration, marking that part of you. After her sudden kiss, she inhales deeply, leaning forward, and burying her nose between your fat nuts. She moans and groans and sniffs like an animal, muttering an occasional 'fuck' as she works herself deeper and deeper into a lust.
Nedallia stands on your lap while this is happening, at first just watching with a gleeful smile, but eventually she notices the moisture forming on her panties. The cute halfling whispers into your ear, //"Get ready to see my favorite magic trick."// She then counts to five on her fingers. Reaching five, the president of AKT through a series of impressive stretches and twists, does a precarious hand-stand on your legs. Her shaking, uncertain thighs quickly loop around your head, pulling her barely-covered butt, and her rapidly soaking pussy, into your face rapidly.
"That was the hard part, now the fun one!" She exclaims, grinding her panty-clad pussy along your nose slowly. She smells like pure lust right now, and lilac soap. Such fine details wouldn't be lost on a gentleman like you, even as she's taking your cockhead into her mouth. Rubi's brought back to focus at the hard work that her president's going through, and begins to run her tongue in circles around each of your huge nuts.
The tanned halfling's impossible to out-do, however, especially while she has your face buried in her big, round ass. In response to the desperate movements of Rubi, Nedallia hollows her cheeks out, and begins to lewdly slurp and suckle at your cockhead, swallowing pre-cum with a passion. Then she gives you a break from that, and instead begins to encircle your huge tip with her tongue rapidly. You have enough heightened perception in your ass-blinded state to know that she's spelling out your name with her tongue.
Neat party trick, and it's making you shudder and groan rapidly, so it's clearly effective. You can hear Rubi groan in lustful agitation, then the noise of clothes hitting the ground. She's definitely touching herself now, at least with one hand, since the other seems to be pumping your shaft by its base as best she can with its immense thickness. Finally, the cunning Rubi realizes there //is// something she can do that Nedallia can't right now.
"You like it when I inhale your fucking nuts like a slut, don't you?" She asks, suddenly sounding a ''lot'' less reserved and nervous. All you can offer is a groan, which makes Nedallia's pussy quiver a little. Rubi seems to stand tall, biting your ear gently, and whispering into it all while pumping your shaft. "She //really// wants to swallow all of your backed-up nutsludge, you know that? That means she either ''really'' likes you, or she's totally ''hooked'' on your big..." Rubi's grip tightens on your base, before roughly jerking you off with a fury. "...Fat..." She moves Nedallia's panties out of the way, allowing you to taste heaven. You begin to slurp and tongue-fuck her pussy with the same passion Nedallia's putting in.
"Cock." Rubi finally says, panting somewhat, now using both hands to jerk off what Nedallia's mouth can't reach from this angle. Nedallia's been sent into overdrive by your desperate tongue-fucking of her pussy, which itself is clearly trying to milk your tongue as if it were a cock, to no avail. The halfling's noisily and messily fucking her face with your dick as best as she's able without letting go of your face, it's a miracle you've lasted even this long.
"Show me what those sweaty fucking balls are good for, c'mon, cum. Fill her up. Fill her up! Fill her up!" Rubi chants, in a manner not too dissimilar from someone chanting 'chug'. Your willpower crumbles after long enough ruining the halfling's throat, and Rubi's words indeed take hold. You finally ejaculate, groaning loudly into the provided pillows. Nedallia gulps greedily and noisily, slurping, and repeating her hollowing cheeks to suck you dry as fast and effectively as possible.
Rubi removes one of her hands from your shaft to squeeze and massage your massive nuts, perhaps in an attempt to coax out as much as she's able. Her other hand moves to quickly support your back as you start falling backwards. With her help, you stay upright. Meanwhile, even while you're still cumming your brains out, Nedallia starts to disentangle from your face, skillfully pulling all but your tip out of her mouth, still suckling greedily at you, even when you start to feel overstimulated. Rubi's hand quickly moves from your back to one of Nedallia's thick thighs, carefully helping her president to sit back on your lap without tumbling comically.
You can see again, and despite not doing either half of the hard face-fucking, Rubi looks positively worn-out and blissful, shuddering occasionally, but still focused as ever. Once you finally stop flooding Nedallia's mouth, she leaves your dick alone, motioning for Rubi to come hither. The loyal VP does so quickly, hand squeezing on the halfling's toned tan thigh eagerly. The two exchange a kiss, lewdly and obviously exchanging your semen between the two of them.
Not needing to support anyone on your face or cock, you finally collapse onto your back, with a satisfied groan. "I think he liked it, Rubi." Nedallia says, as Rubi repeatedly swallows and moans. "I liked it too, you goofy-ass...all of us did, obviously." Rubi offers back, but the halfling just giggles. "So silly, Rubi...it wouldn't be a section D if we didn't all have fun!" Your eyes feel heavy, and you slowly start to drift off.
[[Wake from this farce.|GalleryPrologue]]<<set $Flackfolly to $Flackfolly + 1>>Willing to go along with this now that you've checked all your bases, you pull down your dream-pants to present yourself to her. She turns a slightly lighter shade of obfuscated inky blackness, fanning herself off somewhat with a non-euclidean paper fan. <span style="color:#8F00FF">"I didn't mean right now, that wouldn't work anyways. No, to start with, you'll need to procure a bowl and some coins...we must lead our way up to letting you ravage my darkness, make a proper ritual of it all."</span>
Oh, yea, okay. You awkwardly put your dream-pants back on, but her shadow stops you mid-way through. <span style="color:#8F00FF">"I could still reward you for saving me from that void-thing, little guy. Keep the pants off, I need the practice for my new domain regardless..."</span>
You oblige, and sit on the cold cave floor. Some part of you contemplates climbing her to make good on those visions she gave you, and your cock throbs. Niolesa's robes spin and flap rapidly, covering her entirely, and rapidly compressing. Once it's compressed her into a miniscule shape, they expand once more, until she's back to her ordinary extremely tall self.
Noisily clattering onto the cavern floor is a far more reasonable 4 feet tall gift box, which begins to unwrap itself. Within that lovely cardboard box is a smaller version of those robes that Niolesa wears, but instead of obstructive shadow beneath, you can clearly see a soft looking figure that's black as pitch. This figure is clearly not alive, it appears to be an inert sex doll of sorts, though it's missing limbs and a head.
<span style="color:#8F00FF">"Touch it, slowly."</span> She says, reminding you that you have company. You oblige, and run your fingers gradually and sensually along the sex-doll's form, squeezing its squishy fat fake breasts, groping at its wide hips hungrily. This was obviously something made specifically for one purpose, given how she didn't even bother giving it eyes to look into.
<span style="color:#8F00FF">"Now bite it, please..."</span> Niolesa encourages you, as you push the doll onto the floor. That's a good idea, so you do it, nibbling and biting all over the doll, at its shoulders, at its firm side, at its wide hips. Your teeth-marks glow like stars on the doll's body, and soon enough you can't help yourself anymore. With your pants already halted in their putting-on, it's almost entirely unconscious that you slowly press your hips downward.
This lover isn't alive, nor a massive eldritch mommy, so it simply feels room-temperature as you grind your massive cockhead along its vagina. You grip its thick hips tightly, and thrust forward, meeting very little resistance despite its lack of lubrication. It feels wonderfully tight around you from just the first thrust, this is made of some incredible material. Its entire stomach area turns somewhat transparent as you suddenly slam your entire length into the sex doll. You can faintly see your cock stretching it to its limits, and the simple animalistic pleasure you're feeling just intensifies your rapid fucking.
<span style="color:#8F00FF">"You like that? I made it ''just'' for you, little one...though that's not really an accurate name during times of mating, is it?"</span> Her question falls upon deaf ears, this thing feels too damn good to really respond, as you grope its breasts roughly. <span style="color:#8F00FF">"No, you're a big one...you seem to like being able to see how your member is ruining and stretching that sleeve out of shape...it'll never recover from what you're doing, you know?"</span> Your cock throbs at that, you're marking this inanimate object forever in a way that only you can, and that turns you on.
You spend quite some time brutally trying to breed with a sex doll, to little response from your present lover. Niolesa, however, coos and encourages you the whole time. <span style="color:#8F00FF">"You're doing so well, you know?"</span> She uses 'you know?' a lot. <span style="color:#8F00FF">"You hit so deep...that dick was clearly made for a proper eldritch mate, you know? Maybe I can help you with that later..."</span> You pant and groan, rapidly pounding away.
<span style="color:#8F00FF">"Oooooh...getting close? Are you gonna fill this little unworthy toy to the brim? Would you do that for me? Pretty please?"</span> Your nuts tense, and you shudder profusely, but find you can't ejaculate yet. You can audibly hear Niolesa's hearts beating rapidly at that, as if it excites her. Growling somewhat, you double your efforts, even as you fail to reach orgasm once more.
You're sweating, and getting a little sore, but your hips won't stop moving, as you chase the inevitable finish line. <span style="color:#8F00FF">"Look in my eyes, big one, it's okay, you can let it all out."</span> You don't respond, but eventually, you throw your head back at another near-climax, inadvertently gazing into those deep pools of blue. You climax instantaneously, explosively, and noisily, howling like a degenerate animal.
You know in your heart of hearts that you ejaculate a comical amount as-is, but never enough to send a sex doll flying off of your member, which happens here. It noisily splats against a wall, as your semen stains the ceiling of the cave in the absence of its lover. Your heart skips a beat as you watch one of Niolesa's large fingers collect your ejaculate from where it lands, before she noisily slurps it up with an unseen mouth.
<span style="color:#8F00FF">"Tasty, and copious. You will be a perfect wellspring of potent, nasty void-stuff for me. But we'll get to that later, little guy. I'll reach out."</span> The shrouded woman says, and in that same instant you awake, painfully erect. It takes a time for it to pass, as you contemplate that bowl and coin idea she put forward.
[[Wake from this farce.|GalleryPrologue]]<<set $Flackfolly to $Flackfolly + 1>>You hold your hands up over your head, prepared to be dominated by the tall girl before you. Her heart seems to skip a beat when she sees your battlefield surrender, a smile coming over her. Taking a moment to collect herself, she shudders, then points at your bed. "Lay down, ''now.''" There's a freaky fierceness to her command, but you already intended to do as she asked.
She takes the opportunity to strip down out of her deep black pants, watching you like a hawk as you lay down. Your bed's pretty comfy, actually. Soon her thick fair-skinned thighs are revealed to you, and looking along her lower-half you note the thong barely covering her clearly dripping pussy. She must ''really'' like the idea of taking control of someone else.
"You're going to call me ''Sharp'' while I'm //milking you.// If you decide to //pussy out,// the safe word's 'erotica'. Got it, fuck-toy?" She asks, and when you nod, she's quick to descend onto your bed. "...and I'm calling you Anne during this." Sharp suddenly tacks on, while pinning you down by the shoulders. Your bed squeaks in protest, but it falls upon deaf ears.
Taking a moment to orient herself, Sharp begins to run her tongue ever-so-slowly along your neck, your chest, your stomach, bending her neck and head far further than she probably should be able to while her arms are raised up and holding you down. "You taste like //candy,// Anne, did you do that just so I'd taste it?" You have no idea how to respond to that, but Sharp doesn't seem to care.
Taking a break from ineffectually tongue-bathing your torso, she lifts off of you, and snaps. "Take those worthless jeans off already, we're missing out big-time on the main event." Sharp waits with her arms crossed, thighs slowly rubbing together impatiently. You don't know any spells, but the speed with which you undress seems to bring a magical amount of perverse glee to her face.
Your distended monster-cock naturally springs free while you're pulling out of your underwear, noisily slapping against your stomach. You swear to God that you can see actual hearts in Sharp's eyes for a split second, before it stops, and she regains her composure. She pushes you back to your prone position with minimal effort, before straddling your crotch.
She holds like that for a time, pressing your cock between her barely-covered crotch and your own body, letting the absolutely molten heat of her pussy really sink in. "Do you like that, Anne? It'd be so easy to just move this stupid fucking thong aside, and we'd just go right to pound-town..." You nod, then verbally agree when that clearly isn't enough for her, "Yes, Sharp, it'd feel amazing, too..."
She leans down, laying down on you while keeping her crotch firmly against your own. If this weren't a rather tall lover, you'd currently be making out with her, but instead you're helplessly buried in her generous breasts. Sharp goes out of her way to grip the back of your head with one hand, to really mash you between them.
Her other hand goes lower, squeezing as much of your dick as it can hold tightly. Her dripping wetness has soaked through her thong somewhat, partially soaking your pulsing cock too, which makes it way harder to hold so tight. She takes that in stride, content to begin roughly jerking off your cock. Despite not being able to fully encircle it a moment ago, her hand seems to have no trouble doing so now, and soon you're groaning into her titties.
She focuses an immense amount on the tip of your cock, especially what parts of it make you groan the loudest muffled noises, content to just rapidly jack off the first two inches of your behemoth. "If you cum from //this,// I'll just use your face until the day's over...if you get close, you tap on my arm as fast as you can." You nod into her chest, and she coos and calls you a 'good boy'.
<span style="color:cyan">Hold out for a hero in these trying times.</span>
Even with Sharp's relentless jerking of your cock, you manage to hold out, partly because you need more, and partly because you know your mind would not physically let you skip class later. After enough teasing and cruel words, she adjusts, and moves her thong out of the way. Sharp's molten pussy presses hard against your enormous cockhead, but stops just short of penetration. Instead she begins to grind against your tip, "Do you want to fuck my pussy?" She asks, and you nod rapidly.
"Good boy. Honesty should be rewarded more in this life, you know? Let's do another question or two first, though..." She raises up, returning to simply straddling you, looming tall over you, but no longer crushing you in her breasts. Your eyes fixate immediately on her dripping wet pussy, and how your tip is slightly parting it. She grabs your face with one hand, forcing you to look into her eyes instead.
"Am I sexier than Sleanne?" She asks, which takes you aback somewhat, but she obviously wouldn't be asking this question if she wanted you to say no. You nod again, not putting much thought into your answer. That seems to make Sharp shudder with delight. "Very, //very// good boy..." She grips and moves your cock, pressing it against her stomach and holding it there. Sharp allows you to look away from her face now, and you take in the sight of your enormous cock pressed against her groin, against her stomach.
"Do you see how deep you'll be in me? Does it excite you to know that you'll be utterly helpless against my pussy?" You nod rapidly again, breathing heavily, you ''really'' want to put all of yourself into her. Sharp thinks a little bit, squeezing your tip harshly, before continuing. "No moving your hips unless I say so, Anne."
That's a concession you'll make, so you nod once more. With a satisfied smile, she begins to lower her hips, slowly, strongly. Her concerningly hot pussy finally embraces the tip of your cock as she impales herself. She keeps going, lowering closer and closer to your base, with no effort at all. It feels like molten heaven around your shaft, and with a simple clench, her insides feel like they're shaped specifically for you. You're almost certainly making a really, really stupid face right now, given the smile decorating her face afterwards.
"Mmmm...easy as that." She says, finally sheathing the entirety of your huge cock in her. By all means she should be shouting and moaning and screaming right now, and you do see the stomach bulge from what she's accomplished, but she's acting like it was no trouble at all. Sharp seems to take immense pleasure in your brief confused expression, before pinning your shoulders. "Did the big toy think he'd make me moan? Oh, you poor thing...it's you that'll be saying my name today."
With her game face on, Sharp begins to fuck herself on you ''rapidly,'' bouncing up and down with such speed and ferocity that moisture goes flying everywhere. Even though it's happening constantly at this speed, every time she takes the entirety of you into her, your tip is tightly squeezed by her pussy, as if on command. You don't really understand it, and you couldn't hope to ask right now, too overwhelmed to try.
One of her hands moves down, down, down, to grope your engorged testicles, and much like her lovemaking, there's nothing gentle about it. "You're only good for a dildo, you know that? Who am I kidding, of course you knew that, you adore that fact..." She squeezes your nuts for a moment, while holding your entire length in her for a prolonged period. Her vagina feels like it's actively trying to milk your cock, and you might just oblige. The beating of your heart only increases in pitch when she grabs your throat with her remaining hand, and starts to squeeze experimentally.
Obviously she notices your twitching, especially while she's groping your nuts eagerly. "Ohhh, is someone reaching his limit? Are you gonna cum?" She asks, and you struggle to nod, but she seems to get the message. Slowly pulling her pussy entirely off of you, she holds your nuts tight. "Since you were such a good little toy, I'll let you finish inside, but first, say my name..." You oblige quickly, cock twitching eagerly. It's astonishing how soaked your penis is.
"Again." She says, and you repeat yourself, louder. "One more time, slowwwwwly..." She says, moving her hips in circles just above your cock. Her grip on your neck tightens and loosens slowly, coaxing you to speak when she says to. You slowly sound out Sharp, but around the 'a' in her name she slams her hips down, taking you in once more. Even while holding still on you, it feels like her pussy is rapidly and roughly slamming up and down along your length. You still manage to say her name, since you know she'll call you a good boy if you do, and positive affirmation is nice.
"Gooooood boy." She says, "If you come see me sometime, maybe I'll feed your addiction to this pussy...but for now..." Sharp begins to choke you properly, all while her pussy seems to jack you off. "...cum. ''Now.''" Your eyes flutter, and you groan noisily, while violently ejaculating into her incredible pussy. She holds you there like that, still choking you, but she slowly eases up as you continue to pump your load into her.
You're sweating uncontrollably, but she doesn't look like she broke a sweat at all. "That was fun. We should do it again sometime." Sharp says, her tone returning to her more normal seeming one, even as her pussy milks and drains your nuts into her. You can't really articulate a response right now, even after she removes her hand from your neck, you're too busy being milked right now.
When she does finally get up, you're amazed to find that nothing drips out of her, nor does her stomach look as bulged out as it should if she was just holding all of your enormous load in her.
[[Wake from this farce.|GalleryPrologue]]<<set $Flackfolly to $Flackfolly + 1>>You adjust your stance, puff out your chest, and put your hands overtop her tip-tapping ones, just on her hips. She shudders and laughs a few perverse chuckles, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "//Hand-holding isn't what I'm after, if you want to take control, then ''do it''.//" The tall girl bites on your ear, before pulling back with that same perverted smile.
With a tightening of your grip on her hips, you overcorrect by pushing her forward onto your bed. There's a thud, and your bed squeaks a tiny amount under the sudden assault, but it's in for far worse soon enough. "Is that all you've got, little man?" She asks, wiggling out of her black pants. This time you are impressed to find that despite her lack of bra, she's wearing a deep black thong that cuts into her beautiful fat ass fiercely.
Looking over her shoulder at you, she groans in slight frustration. "If the next words out of your mouth are dumb romance, I'll get up and leave." You decide against testing that, and instead fiercely smack her ass. It jiggles magnificently in response, how the hell does she hide this beneath those pants, there was no sign of something this bubbly before she de-pants'd.
She pants somewhat in response to the fierce smack, before shivering, and moaning, "...More." You're fast to oblige, even as you have to crawl onto the bed to finally tower overtop the tall girl for once. ''SMACK.'' You watch your hand leave its mark behind, even just temporarily. "Are you just gonna stare, or-" ''SMACK.'' Her voice catches in her throat, and she bites her lip, happy to be quiet for now.
Back facing you, the tall girl lay momentarily submissively, slowly wiggling her hips to encourage you to smack her again. You continue to smack and abuse her butt, finally growing bored of just smacking. With both hands, you begin to squeeze and manhandle her big round buttcheeks, at first for the sheer joy it inspires in you, then to draw moans and shivers from the bad-mouthing babe.
There's a sheer, unimaginable heat radiating from her crotch, that you can't possibly miss with your shameless manhandling of her bubbly ass. "Notice something you //like,// sir?" She asks, bouncing her hips up and down a few times as you stare helplessly. The way she can bounce her ass around is almost hypnotic. She sure knows how to move her body...
"Tell me what you want, I'll do //anything,// sir...if you'll treat me bad enough, and promise to call me Anne." That would be a stupid offer to turn down, so you won't, but you are curious about that whole Anne thing. "Why Anne?" You ask, giving her ass another smack to draw the answer from her pretty lips.
"//Ooooh...//It's short for Sleanne...that's what I call her, anyway..." That seems like its own thing to unpack, and you aren't here to be a therapist. You make use of the unzip function your pants have, and quickly free your throbbing cock. 'Anne' seems to bite her lip in anticipation from hearing the unzip alone, but when she peeks over her shoulder, she properly raises her ass high for you.
"Notice something ''you'' like...Anne?" You ask, trying to get into the Anne thing. She nods slowly, while you move her thong out of the way. That immense heat arrives in waves from her now exposed pussy, as if it were properly molten. An experimental touch with your fingers draws a tiny moan from her, and disproves the lava theory. She's just...abnormally hot down there right now, maybe all the time.
"You're wet as...a whore, Anne." You say, slowly finding your footing with talking dirty. "If you think that now, wait until you're inside..." Anne whispers back at you like a siren's call, wiggling her ass back and forward needily. You remind her who's in charge right now with a noisy ''SMACK'', taking joy in the jiggle presented to you. "Before we start," She begins, keeping her head low, "...the safe-word's love."
<span style="color:cyan">Engage coitus.</span>
If you were looking at anything but the single most wet pussy in existence right now, you'd probably try to find lube, or make her suck on you first, but with her bouncing ass, and her extremely fuckable pussy being ''right there'', you just slam your hips forward. You're met with shockingly little resistance, largely due to how wet she is, and it isn't romanticizing when you inform her, "This pussy feels like it was fucking made for me, Anne."
As you rapidly bottom out in her, your hips smack against her ass with a ''clap''. Anne keeps her head low, moaning, and cooing, you swear you can feel her pussy actively trying to milk you right now. She didn't seem to resonate with your previous statement, so you've got to talk a little rougher. "All you're good for is getting fucked by this cock, did you know that?" You ask, trying to get used to the words still. She seems to actively tighten up around you when you say that, which feels fucking amazing.
"Good fucking girl, Anne, but we haven't started yet." You reply, pulling back, and slamming back into her. If she wants rough, you'll be rough, pistoning in and out of her perfect pussy with a fury, as quickly as you can. That fills the room with far more erotic ''CLAP-CLAP-CLAP-CLAP'' noises, as well as the drawn-out moans from Anne. You can see her toes curling, which makes you feel like a God damn king.
"Don't be...Shy, Anne," You say, having to keep up with your own rapid fucking. It's very hard to talk and brutally fuck, as it would turn out. "I want you to...fucking, share your mind." You say, rapidly and methodically sticking to your rhythm of pounding her brains out. "Your dick feels sooooo ''GOOD!!!''" She yells, a bit too loud for your taste, so you smack her ass. That just turns her on more, it seems.
"Pleeeaaaaase, choke me, sir, I want my fucking breathing to be controlled by you." Holy shit. You oblige her, taking her throat into your hands, and squeezing, at first to get the idea down, then to choke her. You feel her pussy squirt all over your legs as you choke her, and you can see her looking back at you with eyes rolling and fluttering needily. "Your fucking...pussy...belongs to ''me.''" You say, easing your grip so she can breathe again. You don't feel her breathe in, or out actually, but she seems to regain her senses when you do so.
"Yes, sir, it does, it does, it so fucking does!" She shouts again, helpless under your attention. While you have her on her stomach, you have a brilliant idea, and take her arms out from her side, causing her torso to fall onto the bed beneath the two of you. Holding an arm in either hand, you pull the tall-sub's arms backwards toward you, which pulls more moans from her mouth while you pound into her. Her arms are the handles that you're using to slam deeper and deeper into her now, and she knows it.
You might not fully understand how her pussy works, but it's clearly got some strange properties going on, and since she's already basically babbling incoherent pleasured noises at you, you decide to order her more strangely. "Since your pussy's ''mine'' now, you'd better put in extra effort to make me cum in it, you worthless fucktoy." Anne seems to climax again when you order that in particular, and in the spasms that follow, her vagina feels like it's fucking vibrating around you.
It's the finest kind of molten, tight heat, massaging and squeezing at you while you mercilessly pummel it. Her eyes are crossed, now, as you keep using her as a cocksleeve. The vibrations only add to it, even if they make no sense, you can feel those reverberations even in your balls, which are tightening rapidly now that she's clearly actively trying to milk you dry.
"Get ready, Anne, you stupid cum-dump!" You shout, and she starts desperately slamming her hips back against your own with each thrust now, knowing her prize is near. Sure enough, you bottom out entirely one last time, and begin to cum buckets into her eager pussy. She coos and moans through your entire orgasm, while you bathe in the glory of this conquest. Once you've truly filled her, you withdraw, amazed to find nothing dripping out of her.
There's also no cum-bulge to her stomach, so you assume it's some freaky spell at play. You smack her on the ass a few more times as you catch your breath, and she chuckles. "Good work, champ." She says, no longer sounding nearly so submissive to your will. "That felt fucking great, we should do it again some time." Anne sits up in record time, not sweaty at all compared to you.
She dresses just as quickly, making a show of it for you, shaking her ass while pulling into her jeans, which indeed hide her bubbly butt frighteningly well. Her jacket's even easier, and she bounces her tits a few times while putting it on for you.
[[Wake from this farce.|GalleryPrologue]]<<set $Flackfolly to $Flackfolly + 1>>The blankets are soft around you, and you're left trying to find your footing as Hilx presses his natural advantage in the darkness. He's fast to remove your backpack, since it's big and unwieldy as all hell, and as you feel around aimlessly, you brush up against his smooth chest.
He sure undresses quickly. The unseen catboy is quick to disorient and push you onto your back, before ultimately pinning you down by your shoulders. He starts to kiss along your neck, which makes him to shudder far more than it does you. "I needed this ''so'' bad, you have no fucking idea..." He says with a satisfied sigh, a hand reaching down your pants to shamelessly grope your cock.
"...Oh! Ohhh, I //definitely// lucked out with you..." He says, almost with reverance, as he gives your penis a loving squeeze. When you try to reach out for him, he chuckles gently, and seems to rearrange in the darkness. The twink's no longer pinning you with his arms, but he does guide your hand to his ass, which quickly finds its way over your chest.
It's soft, but not fatty, he's too slender and active for that descriptor. It strikes you, as you're groping and fondling his soft ass, that you have a phone with a flashlight app. While you're busying yourself fetching it, Hilx is unzipping and throwing your pants across the room mightily. He doesn't even bother with the underwear, not yet, pressing his face against your barely-contained cock and inhaling noisily.
You click your flashlight on just in time to see the look of perverted anticipation on the twink's face as he pulls your underwear down. He flinches at the sudden bright light, and manages to get smacked in the face with your cock as it springs free. He chuckles again, wiggling his butt by your face expectantly.
You move your light to focus in on that glorious wiggling behind, he's got it right in front of you, with his tail dragging along your face teasingly. He's got a raging erection between his legs, which twitches needily. You'd be content to just keep watching the sway of his ass, but there's no world where Hilx would be content with that.
You gasp as he suddenly and rapidly starts sucking your cock, with no build-up. At first he's just suckling and moaning around your fat tip, but soon he's teasing it mercilessly with his tongue. You reach forward and squeeze his ass with both hands, grunting, trying not to lose your cool so quickly. His tongue feels fucking good, though, he knows what he's doing.
While you're using his ass as a stress-relief toy for your hands, he's coaxing pre-cum from your tip and onto his masterful tongue. You watch as his hand creeps between his legs, stroking his cock just as rapidly as he's tongue-bathing your cockhead. It's only when you desperately smack his ass that he takes a break, smiling a really smug smile. "Aaaahhh...didn't wanna feed kitty his milk just yet?" Hilx says in a seductive tone, wiggling out of your grip.
"There's nothing wrong with cumming too fast, not when I'm the one giving you head." He adds, crawling over your body to the foot of the bed. He positions himself carefully, casting some kind of spell before what will be penetration. The cat-twink's body is turned away from you, giving you ample view of the ass you've been stress-testing so far, especially as he spreads it just over your leaking cock.
"But I ''really'' need to let some stress out, and fucking my face just isn't gonna be enough for me." There's a growl of need from him, then a groan of lust from you, as he impales himself on your massive length. He coos lovingly, entire body shuddering as he keeps lowering his hips until every inch has disappeared into his tight, hot asshole. You can see his tight ring stretched profusely to fit you inside, even as you moan and pant from the sensation.
Hilx seems to wait like that for a time, methodically gyrating his hips, but not truly fucking himself on you. "Ffffucking...call me...babe..." The catboy incoherently demands, finally moving his hips upward once more. You're going to question that, but find yourself groaning out the word babe when he slams his hips back down.
It isn't with nearly the same ferocity that he was masturbating, but the twink uses you as a dildo quite roughly, repeatedly mashing his ass down onto your hips all while you grab and grope him. Unlike a dildo, however, you're able to move all on your own, which you set out to do swiftly. With each thrust of your hips, you bring out a gasp or a moan or swear from the catboy's lips.
Soon you're meeting him halfway each time he throws his hips downward, the room now a cacophony of ''SMACK'' ''SMACK'' ''SMACK''ing, and repeated "Ffuck! Fuck! Fuck-fuck-fuck!" sounds from the catboy. You can't hold on much longer, the both of you are drenched in sweat, so you begin to jackhammer upward mercilessly.
The brutal fucking you're doing brings Hilx to a squealing orgasm with remarkable speed, as you seem to find his prostate and hammer it home with passion. As his ass tightens up around you, you find yourself cumming your brains out as well. You can make out, while groaning and ejaculating a truly impressive amount of semen into the well-fucked catboy, that Hilx carefully contains his orgasm into some strange semi-ethereal condom that wasn't there before.
As he pulls off of you, you can see a similar magical condom present on your own pulsing cock. Hilx licks his lips hungrily as he takes in the sight of your huge condom balloon loudly plopping onto the bed. You sigh a relaxed sigh as he removes the magical condom from your cock, and chugs the entirety of your thick cumload over the course of thirty seconds.
Only once he's finished does he gasp for air afterwards, moaning anew, and ejaculating almost on-command into his own semi-transparent condom once again. That's vaguely hot. He stretches, smiles a truly relaxed smile, before kissing your penis once, on the tip.
[[Wake from this farce.|GalleryPrologue]]<<set $Flackfolly to $Flackfolly + 1>>She's just as pear-built as she appears with clothing on, with rather small breasts and a glorious clown-white ass you can barely see from this angle, which should be a war crime. She lacks her bra right now, presumably it lays in the disorganized pile of clothing in the driver's seat. Yet, for reasons unknowable, she left her polkadot panties on. The huge wet spot around her crotch only serves to turn you on further. Marbles' mouth moves with no words coming out for a moment, and you're fairly sure a spell of some kind was just cast.
Sock-Marbles kisses the tip of your penis a few times, staining her face with pre-cum. It feels less good than an actual person's lips would, and she probably knows that. //"Enough play-time, huh? Watch as I make this big fat monster-cock disappear."// She says, opening her sock-mouth, but instead of feeling like cloth and hitting someone's hand, you feel the inside of a mouth, which makes you jump a bit. "What the fuck?" You ask no-one in particular, as the puppet's very real feeling tongue runs circles around your tip.
You start to move in your seat, to try to check the sock-woman's mouth up-close, but you're stopped dead in your tracks when she fully throats your length, pressing her socky face against your groin. The wet, hot warmth of her throat makes you shudder, and your breath grow uneven. When you re-focus, you look down to Marbles, who looks rather busy touching herself beneath her panties while watching you get sucked off by a sock. Sock-Marbles holds still for a moment, but not long.
"This is...not a traditional threesome." You manage to say, before your eyes roll back as the sock //rapidly// throat-fucks herself. An ordinary lover would probably get spit everywhere right now, but the only spit involved is purely inside of her amazing mouth. She makes a few exaggerated //GLLK GLLLK GLLLK// noises while moving like a blur along your cock. Part of you does //not// want to be this helpless against a literal sock, so you take control how you can, by grabbing her little head with one hand.
Those googly eyes look up at you with lust, as if taunting you to take control. You do so, lifting her mouth almost entirely off of your length, which is indeed soaking wet from her efforts. You hold her there, but your plan's quickly thrown off-track when her tongue gets right back to work lapping around your tip, and those lewd //SLURRRRRRP//ing sounds she's making while gulping your pre-cum certainly doesn't make things easier. You're about ten seconds away from face-fucking a sock to prove your might as a lover, but you see movement outside.
You wheeze, and freeze in place, "Person outside." You manage, trying to think of how the fuck you can possibly hide in such a tight car. Marbles just flips the lever again, resulting in you laying flat on your back anew. That...helps somewhat, unless that someone happens to look through the front window. Sock-Marbles pulls her mouth off of your cock in that transient time where your seat is adjusting, allowing the three of you to look at her handiwork.
"Wow, she worked you over pretty good, you look pretty close..." Marbles says, getting on her knees as to bend closer to your crotch. "Cool trick though, right?" She asks, and you nod, panting, trying to keep on your guard in case someone looks inside, or in case the puppet tries something. The two of you exchange glances, //"You can't get enough of me and you know it."// Sock-Marbles says lustfully, but Flesh-Marbles manages to push her socky counterpart out of the way before she can ruin you any further. When her hands come back into frame, the puppet is gone, replaced by an ordinary white glove.
"She didn't come on too strong, did she?" Marbles asks, blowing air on your cock as if it were a birthday candle. You shake your head rapidly. "Nope. No. Not at all. Perfect amount of coming onto me. Not a thing to improve." You partly believe those words, that sock was possessed by some kind of throat-fuck spirit or something. Your penis twitches, eager for release. Marbles kisses each of your cum-filled balls once, leaving deep red lipstick behind. "Oh, you must really wanna shoot your pent-up guy-goo, huh?" She asks, weighing them with her hands. You nod eagerly, not focusing too much on her terrible word choices.
Marbles opens up the dashboard, pulling down a weird tube that seems to connect into the car itself in that dashboard. She looks through a small hole in it, and you realize this is some demented car-periscope. You blink confused, do all cars have a periscope? Once she seems satisfied, she puts the periscope away, and crawls overtop you. The clown-clogs stayed on during all of this, you note.
The clown of the hour straddles you, holding your cock close against her stomach and chest, while you stare upward at her in all her glory. "I'm saving my pussy for someone I'm not hooking up with at a party," She explains, "But you and the sun'll have something in common real soon anyways." You don't want to ask, because then she might pause whatever she has planned to explain this extremely specific joke. Marbles grips your cock with one of her cartoonishly sized clown-gloves, using her puppet's spit as lube as she begins to jack you off.
"You'll be making the roof of my car all hot..." She says in a sultry tone. You can hear faint squeaks as her hand slams against your base over and over again, if this was all you had to contend with, you'd last a while yet, but then her right hand goes behind her back, and you shiver with anticipation. //"Miss me, puppet-fucker?"// Is the first thing you hear as her hand comes back into view. Somehow, Puppet-Marbles has returned.
The sock gives her host a certain look of jealousy since she's not the one pumping your dick right now, but finds clarity in noisily gargling your balls. You feel that skilled tongue putting in serious work giving you a crazy tongue-bath, while she lewdly moans and slurps on your fat nuts. No man could hold on under such an onslaught, especially while a cute clown-girl is jacking you off with passion. You groan, tense, and loudly orgasm, thick units of semen launching all the way from your dick onto the roof of the car.
Throughout your orgasm, Puppet-Marbles' efforts only redouble, but her large counterpart more gently and sensually wrings the cum out of you by hand. When you've finally come down from this clown-induced high, Marbles puts the puppet away once more, quickly fishing through her clothes to produce an infinite chain of handkerchiefs. The clown-girl carefully unties around five of them. She wipes the roof of her car with all five of the multi-colored cloths, before throwing them out of your line of sight, gone.
"You cum ''buckets!''" She exclaims. "We could blow up so many balloons with your stuff, if we wanted to..." Marbles trails off, before coming back to reality, and patting you down with another handkerchief. "That puppet is fucking crazy." You say, and she nods. "She's my dominant hand, so, it checks out." You nod in agreement, that ''totally'' explains everything that just happened. You pant a bit, catch your breath, and relax. Marbles chuckles a bit, putting her clothes back on, though the way she positions her back to you while doing so gives you an ''incredible'' view of her fat clown ass.
You do what you were born to do, and smack that big butt. It produces a gentle ''honk'' when you do so, and you laugh like a dumbass.
[[Wake from this farce.|GalleryPrologue]]<<set $Flackfolly to $Flackfolly + 1>>Can't have ya causing a //mutiny,// can I? I'll have t'either shoot ya, stab ya, or //earn your loyalty back.//" She says the last option with a certain seductive tone, as she grinds her crotch against your own. Even through both of your pants, you can feel her red-hot womanhood (the //real// prize of the entire Sea of Folly) as it eagerly awaits your own proud endowment. //"It would be an honor for you to spare my life, Captain."// You say, a fair bit muffled. You can hear her laugh a bit, and scoff all the same.
"Bah! C'mon, Wally, I could never truly harm ya, don't be talkin' like a pussy. Any'f the other men onboard can do that for you. Show me the fire that let you earn your position as First-Mate." She rustles your hair, but continues to smother you all the same. Despite there being no better way to spend an eve on the seas than face-in-chest, you play along. //''"I'm Wallace the bloody Specter,"''// You begin, britishly, //''"Anyone that sees me on these Seas o' Folly, don't live to tell the tale. I'll burn you and this whole ship to ash, in my greatest pyre yet, if you don't,"''// You think for a moment, //''"Surrender, and be my wife, like one of those noble-folk on the land."''//
Your bold choice of titty-muffled words seem to make her shudder and shiver, and chuckle with arousal. "Ya want //me// t'be your ''wife,'' Specter?" She asks, heart beating hard and fast, did you stumble onto something? Why waste the chance, you can go follow this thread, see what revelations come from it.
<span style="color:cyan">Scoop up your captain like a nobleman holds his wife.</span>
It takes a bit of lifting, a lot of groping and rubbing of her toned pirate body, but you manage to hoist your Captain up, noble-style. She chuckles a bit, almost giddily, and you flash her a smile as you move past the table and toward her simple bed. "Yes, o' mysterious Red Terror, I'll make a proper wife of you, and you a proper husband of me...In some noble's estate or another, we'll buy it up from 'em with our vast riches." You heave, and deploy the Captain right onto her bed, which creaks under the sudden gravity-assisted assault. "Aye, could do, Specter,"
Your Captain motions for you to join her on the bed, which barely has the space for one person. To hell with what the bed wants, you step out of your pants and join her, with her missing shirt and your missing pants, you make up one naked person. The Captain smiles wide, probably because the both of you have to partly lay on one another on this bed. Neither of you keeps still enough to entirely be the one underneath, and you ultimately manage to wind up atop her. She reminds you of her power even from beneath you, however, when she tightly squeezes the base of your exposed member.
//"Orrr,"// She purrs, rubbing the length of your rock-hard penis with purpose. "...We could ditch th' namby pamby noble-shit, and terrorize th'seas together. An' fuck like ''animals'' nightly." The words are seductive, even if you personally disagree with them in the long-run. Pirates do not marry, pirates do not love, those things are reserved for those that don't brutalize for a living. But pirates can ''fuck'', or at least the two of you certainly can. You run your hand along her toned side, which tenses for a moment at another's touch. Your roaming fingers brush lower, eventually running gentle circles around her midriff.
The Captain growls akin to an animal in heat, wiggling and writhing and kicking her pants right off and onto the ground, giving you the perfect view of her soaking wet pussy. "Captain, you've quite the flood of honey down here, eh?" You say, running your fingers along her sensitive pussy-lips, before swiftly plunging them into her twat. It's nigh-molten in there, a heat that no other woman could possibly achieve, perhaps The Captain's some she-devil in disguise. "Aye, they say that honey flows freely in th'land'f Th'Ancients, //Specter//. Perhaps we're close, then?"
"It would be convenient for this death mission we're on if that were the reason, //Margarete.//" You breath her name like a prayer, before finger-fucking her soaked pussy rapidly. She begins to articulate a response, but offers a few groans and moans in its stead. Her free hand grips the bed somewhat, whilst the one on your penis takes a detour to her mouth. Wetting her fingers, she returns to your length, pumping it as proper as she's able without any kind of non-spit lubricant. For the moments her fingers are in her mouth, she slurps noisily, making searing eye-contact with you.
You're not able to stick to the fingering for too terribly long, because The Captain rapidly starts to try to wrest control from you, looping her legs around your back and mashing your crotch against her pelvis. "Th'best...missions," She says, blushing from your potent finger-fucking, "...are called death missions, 'til they- Ooooh...succeed, First Mate. After that point..." She adjusts the position of your throbbing, spit-lubed cock so that it lines up with the pussy your fingers are greedily exploring. //"They're called ''Legends.''"//
She doesn't even need to pull your fingers out of her, you do so eagerly, ready to fuck some sense into her, or orgasm trying. "Now are ya gonna try t'argue with me, or-" She says, before loudly moaning into the night when you slam your hips forward, messily and rapidly burying your length in her tight pussy. "fffFFUCK!" She exclaims, moaning out all the more as she holds you deep inside of her with her legs. You shudder a bit yourself, her pussy feels just as molten around your cock as it did around your fingers, as it squeezes and does its best to make you a one-pump-chump.
You're not so easily bested, you press your hands against The Captain's breasts, groping and squeezing them greedily. You are rewarded with a delighted "Oooh!" and the unconscious loosening of her legs around you, which is just what you needed. Like a vengeful piston, you saw out of her slowly, then roughly pound against her depths in rhythm to some sea-shanty or another. The room stinks of sex, and in place of shanty lyrics, the two of you groan and moan and cry out into the cool night. You pound at her incredible vagina for Gods know how long, at first in the simple position you began with.
But as your body's endurance proves lesser than Margarete's, she moves atop you, pushing you on your back. The bed creaks noisily with each powerful slamming of her hips downward, impaling herself on your fat cock over and over again more similar in rhythm to a march than yours was. The messy, noisy ''CLAP--CLAP--CLAP--CLAP'' becomes all you know for quite some time longer, as The Captain pants and groans and fucks herself atop you needily, not exchanging words since you've both long stopped talking.
You feel like a mess, and would be able to focus and steel yourself for whatever length of time it takes for your Captain to tire herself out, but she finally speaks again, "Paint my fuckin' insides white, ya lovey-dovey sod..Uuhhhg..." She pants a bit, since her ordering you to do that resulted in a thrust from below. "...'nother life, 'nother time, we'd be wed, with servants, 'n butlers, 'n we'd never have t'work or rob a soul..." She begins to gyrate her hips in circular motions, holding you as deep into her as she can, but you pant and begin to fuck her in earnest from beneath with vigor you didn't know was in you. "...since, ya'know -- FUCK!" She moans, as you jackhammer into her with everything you're worth.
"I-I..." Tears fill her eyes, from confronting feelings or from the incredible orgasm that's rocking her body is hard to tell. "Fuckin'...I fuckin' love ya...Specter, as much as a killer...can love someone." She has trouble saying it, given the immense pleasure overtaking her, but hearing those words, it pushes you over the edge, and you fill her with everything you've got, groaning like a dumb animal.
[[Wake from this farce.|GalleryPrologue]]The lollipop in your mouth is sweet, but is almost certainly a choking hazard with you smothering yourself against her cleavage. She plucks it from your mouth and put it into her own, cooing and moaning quietly around it as you grow a bit more bold now that you're not at risk of choking to death via lollipop stick. This stupid sexy dress is in the way, so you can only hungrily motorboat the ample breast that is exposed to you.
You work up a little bit of a sweat, and freeze in place when you feel one of Sleanne's hands masterfully unzip your pants. Her hand is just way too goblin-hand-sized to fully encircle your monster cock, but she gropes its tip all the same. She smells like perfume and strong arousal, and you just keep inhaling desperately at her almost intoxicating scents.
You hear a crunch and a gulp, followed by Sleanne's speaking. "You must //really// like my perfume, Mister RA...or maybe it's something else?" You can't really respond while keeping your face buried in her titty-window, but you can still nod. "Mmmh...Yeah, I know, it's my arousal doing it...when normal, boring girls get turned on, only they have to deal with it...but when //I// do..." You feel her body adjust somewhat around you, and your penis tenses profusely, harder than it's ever been, and filled with an unwavering desire to fuck.
"Maybe it's some made-up pheremone stuff, or magic, or a weird genetic mutation...or all three? Eh. Who cares. If I'm horny, then the person feeling me up is too." Sleanne's musings sound unreasonably sexy, even though she's not saying anything even remotely seductive. You remember you have hands of your own, and start to reach up her dress, and as your hands run along her incredibly soft thighs, your dick tenses.
"Don't outpace yourself, Mister RA...it'd be //really// embarassing to cum just from feeling me up...rumor spreads easy, ya know?" The short seductress traces small circles along the tip of your penis with her fingers. "One girl hears you're a quickshot, and you'll only have ''me'' to do this with." Your head swims with imagery of having to rely solely on Sleanne to get off, even though logically you could just do it yourself.
This arousal magic is really potent stuff, but you're not going to slow down now. Trailing further along her thighs, you eventually find the source of the overwhelming heat between her legs, as well as the place that dick-hardening scent comes from. Sleanne shudders profusely when you start to feel her pussy up, and even before pushing them inside your fingers are drenched.
"Mmmghh...Y-ya like my pussy?" She says, hand tightened profusely on your dick for some reason or another. Pre-cum is flowing out of you like a fountain right now, and your head feels extremely fuzzy, is she sensitive down there or something? You pause as the mental image of fucking Sleanne steals your attention, of ravaging her soaking wet pussy, of feeling the same arousal and sensitivities she'd be feeling...if she //is// sensitive down there, then fucking her would feel, just, enlightening...and you'd probably cum in an extremely short amount of time from it. One of the Sphinx's Riddles to solve later, then. Your eyes refocus, back to beautiful breasts and arousing smells, back to your fingers so close to her pussy that it'd just take one little push...
When you try to breach those last few inches between your fingers and pure warmth, the noise of a music box fills your brain, playing some haunting melody or another, it's all you can perceive, it's all you can know. You gasp and wheeze, recoiling from her entirely in confusion. You lay on the ground, cock just hanging out and twitching, looking over at Sleanne with partially haunted eyes.
"What- What was that?" You ask, blinking until you can't hear the music box any longer. Sleanne pants a bit, shuddering, "Sorry, the...uh..." She wipes sweat from her gorgeous face, your teasing was clearly having a big impact on her. "We just...shouldn't, cross that barrier tonight, Mister RA." You can see a dull golden glow between her legs, under that dress, but it fades quickly.
It's apparent that both of you are still extremely horny, and this strange break is allowing your head to clear a bit of the overwhelming lustful intoxication being so close to her causes you. If only you had some kind of telekinetic penis, you'd surely be able to withstand the pleasuring assault on your senses being intimate with her causes. Sleanne crooks a finger at you, smiling like she has everything under control once more. "We couldn't have ya leave all pent-up though, could we?" She asks, and you're stopped from answering by the understanding that this was rhetorical.
The both of you stand at the same time, apparently collectively thinking that the other wouldn't be moving. Sleanne reacts faster than you do, however, and leads you by the cock to a futuristic laser tag foam wall. It strikes you that she doesn't need to kneel to suck your cock mere moments before she kisses your dick all over, sloppily and messily leaving as much lipstick as she can on it. You appreciate the wall now that she's making your legs shake, pressing your hands against it to keep your balance as her strange seductive aura begins to work on you once more.
The lollipops were mere practice for this moment, as she hefts your massive cock with both hands. She squeezes it a few times before twisting her hands skillfully while she jerks you off. If that wasn't enough, she presses her mouth against your leaking cockhead, gulping down your pre-cum with an impressive sort of hunger. At first it's overwhelming but managable, but then she moves her hands, locking her hands around your ass and pushing until your turgid length is forced down her throat. You pant and wheeze, and your vision blurs a bit, her throat feels ''way'' the fuck too good around you, the noisy ''GLLLK-SLRRRP-GLLK-SLRRRP-SLLLRRRP-GLLLK-GLLLK'' of her sloppily throat-fucking herself on you makes you briefly concerned for her.
You try to pull back, but she forces you back into her throat, looking up at you with pure lust in her eyes, even as her makeup runs. It's a little intimidating, but she looks insanely hot with her blue bangs doing very little to hide the depths of depravity lurking in her red gaze. One inhale of her overwhelming arousal makes your head fuzzy anew, and you feel her own pleasures seeping into you. You're not a demigod, you can't keep up with her, no-one could. Your eyes roll, your body tenses, and it isn't until you hear her tell you to <span style="color:#B2FBA5">''"Cum."''</span> without using her mouth that you ejaculate everything you have into her stomach.
For an unreasonably long time you ejaculate, as your head swims with satisfaction and a need to do as Sleanne's asked of you. You can actively feel your balls churning and pulsing as she gulps greedily, until a certain clarity seems to return to her eyes, and she pulls off you rapidly. You stand for but a few moments, still cumming your brains out all over her face, her nice dress, and as you fall onto your side, the very wall that once supported you.
[[Wake from this farce.|GalleryPrologue]]No, there's something...more going on here. If you don't trust your own intuition, what can you trust? At the probable loss of sex, you decide to focus on that ''feeling'' you're getting. You lay a hand on the side of her face, and stare down into those gorgeous hazel eyes. She smiles up at you sweetly, giggling at your romantic gesture. When you focus, you can see that metaphorical world of hidden motive and cunning dancing about. You try to hone in on that strange fake place.
It stops being metaphorical at a frightening speed. You're standing in a grand expanse of golden-green terrain, the ground ripples akin to water. There is no horizon here, no skyline, no up. Peering upward only has you looking up from the ground anew. You hold a pristine golden statue's cheek as it stares into your eyes. Her face is contorted into an exaggerated smile. The inside of those deep lifeless metal eyes hide something dark and horrifying, you can see it swimming around.
Darkness, another layer deep. It's beautiful, horrifying darkness. Inky blackness that is familiar to you, the darkness in this one is the same as your home. You're engulfed by shadows.
In this dark infinity, there's muttering and gossip. You cannot make out the words, but you know they are talking about you behind your back. You know that it's your sister, that bitch! You need to leave this vile place, to aspire to great heights, to reach the spotlight, the ultimate sunshine, let it feed you as if you were one of its own plants.
You wake up under the tree, wheezing and coughing uncontrollably. You don't have a sister, so that had to have been someone else's dreams and ambitions, twisted up like that. Nedallia is looking down at you with extremely confused, concerned eyes, shaking you rapidly. "Sleepyhead, wake up! Please! I...I don't know any healing magic!" She exclaims, breathing heavily as she struggles to lift you, wasted effort with your size relative to hers. You slowly wipe an inky black fluid from your eyes as you regain motor function.
"I'm...I'm okay." You say, reeling from whatever that was. The relief in the halfling's face is immediate, and she drops you with similar relief. "Does that happen often? Are you okay??" She asks, trying to make sense of whatever just happened with you, but you don't have an answer to that question.
She can't see the fluid, but you can. "I'm okay. Don't worry." You repeat, for your own benefit just as much as her own. Whatever that was, it felt scarily close to that dream from the bus. This isn't normal. Stop doing this. ''STOP DOING THIS.''
[[Wake.|GalleryPrologue]]It's cold, first and foremost. Too cold. You wake, a sweating mess, He's back again. He won't stop until you do as He says.
''INTO THE BASEMENT''
You try to close your eyes, to go back to sleep, to escape it, but just as you start to drift off,
''GO INTO''
''THE BASEMENT.''
"No. I can't." You reply, stern, but it's only a tough act. You've not tried being stern before, maybe it will work. The corners of your room sharpen, as the moonlight leaking from the window is briefly blotted out by something moving outside.
Something monstrous.
''GO INTO THE BASEMENT.''
''GO INTO THE BASEMENT.''
''GO INTO THE BASEMENT.''
''THE BASEMENT.''
''THE BASEMENT.''
''THE BASEMENT.''
Each deafening command shakes the room around you, shakes the house at its foundations, as your window is battered by the winter frost outside. It wants inside.
''WOULD YOU RATHER''
''I ASK SOMEONE ELSE?''
No. You can't subject anyone else to this. Not even to make sure any of it is real. You get out of bed, and exit your room. You're in the woods again, and the door you came from is gone from behind you. Trails of magnetic tape lead you through the wilderness, the reflection of the stars upon them the only light you have. There is no moon.
Something is moving around as you reach the metal fence, something deeply yellow, and frighteningly fast. It's spindly, and stamps about around you, just out of view. Its face is contorted in glee, or agony, or both. It wants you to stop.
You wake, a sweating mess. Your hand is on the door to the basement. It's light outside, so you know this isn't another layer. You need to renew that prescription fucking now.
You gasp for air as you wake, body slumped over on the floor, coughing uncontrollably. Hilx is staring down at you, terrified, until he sees you stirring. He hangs up with whoever he was calling, as you wipe a disgusting inky black fluid from your mouth.
He doesn't seem to notice its existence, curiously. Soon enough, neither do you. You get up, coughing a few more times, before asking him what happened. "You just...stared in my eyes, it was kind of hot, but then you collapsed onto the ground, and started seizing, I...are you okay?" He asks, to which you nod. Yes.
''EVERYTHING IS''
''FINE.''
[[Wake.|GalleryPrologue]]As if swimming around in the depths of the sun itself, you are surrounded at all sides by a rampaging inferno of roiling golden flame. There is nothing else here, you aren't even physically real, there is no such thing as school, or the ground, just fire. But there's never //just// fire, is there?
You fall. Perhaps forever, but you fall, until you come slamming into a beautiful portrait of a young woman with pretty olive skin, and long brown hair. When you tear through it, due to the speed that you fell, you find yourself covered in ink and paint and canvas. But you //are// the canvas.
''Quwertee, are you awake?''
"Yeah, I think I am." You reply, looking around the dusty old workshop you've woken up in. Something's wrong with your skin, and you don't have your beautiful brown hair at all. There's an older man, with olive skin and messy brown hair, who stares at you with an apron on. He hasn't slept in a while, and isn't clean-shaven like he usually is. His apron's covered in dust. Metal dust? "What happened...I feel like...I'm...forgetting. Something." You say.
<span style="color:#FFFFC5">//It's the ocean. You're forgetting the ocean.//</span> ''Don't worry, princess. If you can't remember it, it probably isn't important, right?'' He raises a fair point, but, he //is// your father, so it isn't that shocking. For some reason he's crying, but thinks you can't notice that. He hugs you tightly.
You wake up, your family's taking this stupid vacation to the beach, in some expensive beach-house. Even as you scream at the nightmare to end, it won't, and so you all go through the motions, like you do every time you remember that day.
Everyone gets in the house, it starts to storm. No-one wants to acknowledge that it's off, because then it means the vacation was a bad idea. If the vacation was a bad idea, your family will fight again, so everyone's instead content to sit there, like sleeping dolls, even as the window cracks.
They joke about it, in the moment. Humor can diffuse any situation, save any flailing marriage. It doesn't. Then the glass breaks. It's beautiful, even as you're sinking.
''Viviana, can you hear me?''
''Please wake up...I can't lose both of you.''
<span style="color:#FFFFC5">I think I'm drowning, dad.</span>
[[Wake.|GalleryPrologue]]<span style="color:gray">//You're in a grand ball room, with gorgeous wooden flooring, in a black dress.//</span> You can hear faint music playing, as if from a music box, but it's nowhere to be seen. No-one else is here but you, but you can hear muffled talking. Life was perfect, life was care-free, why do you struggle? What drives you?
There is a comedy mask on the floor as you walk. It peers up at you and laughs, uncontrollably. <span style="color:#B2FBA5">''"Silly girl."''</span> The rattling of chains is audible, but you can't see them, only feel that they're closing in. The mask hovers off of the ground, simply laughing as you bat it away rapidly. The music box is louder, you can hear distant humming, growing nearer. ''Run.''
You sprint, as fast as your little legs can take you, but smash into a mirror, sending glassy shrapnel everywhere. Your reflection hates you, you'd leave it here? You'd be so selfish? It grabs at you, from thousands of shards of glass, ripping and tearing your dress, your skin, clawing into you, pulling you down. The mask peers down at you, placed overtop the portrait of a dead man. ''"It isn't proper, silly girl."''
Your reflection tugs and tears at your hair as you struggle, your flesh bubbles and morphs partly into glass, it's comfortable to be made of glass, it's soothing, and calm, and lovely.<span style="color:#B2FBA5"> If you'd only be glass, you'd be happy, and perfect.</span> But you ''hate'' it, because you're <span style="color:#FFFFC5">''wrong''</span>. You kick free from your reflection, and break the glass off of your skin, screaming in pain and liberation.
You hurry through the hallway, as paintings laugh at you, scold you, throw ink all over you. Their features melt into a stew of oil and blood. The chains are almost here, you have to leave fast. You burst into your room, panting, sweating, as unseen chains constrict you by the neck. You're lifted off of your feet, unable to breathe, as the comedy mask stares powerfully into your eyes. Its form is made of dripping oil, it begins to sing hauntingly.
''"Surrounded by jewels,''
''not a chirp,''
''for old rules,''
''we don't usurp.''
''In my dollhouse, you will stay.''
''And just like <span style="color:#FF3333">Father</span>, waste away."''
<span style="color:#B2FBA5">Thrash and writhe.</span>
[[Wake.|GalleryPrologue]]