3iguy, The Contributor
8/21/2019 6:37 AM
7 wins / 3 losses
I'm this site primarily to read stories. Every once and awhile I may spend time on story game.
Recent PostsAn Attempt To Escape Hell on 5/29/2019 11:56:26 AM
Hunger pangs shock you awake. You are laying on a slab inside a dimly-lit oval room. The walls pump, making a ‘glug’ sound. Green light glows, drawing your attention to a growing emerald colored flame. It gives off a sweet smell, like that of ripe citrus. Rising from the bed, you practically leap across this chamber! Ravenous primal urges yank you in, enchanted by such a strange phenomena. This… this is some kind of enchantment. It has to be. You have vague memories, but nothing specific. Suspiciousness punctures through your appetite and the brain fog you’re trapped in. Fire is life. Life is not food! In this chaos, the fire elemental’s ethics system is the only thing guiding you back to sanity. Even with this foresight, your lesser cravings dominate; you snatch at the appetizing fire. Flames and pain envelop your hand, feasting on your forearm, shoulder, and eventually your hand. “Is this it? Is this death?” the fearful thought passes by as the burning takes you whole. You fade into a comatose state. Fire should not harm you. The next time you open your eyes, you are bound in a pentagram in a familiar room, lit by familiar flames. A trio of individuals crowd around your body. Mortals. Looking back, you knew that they were after you. After all, you’re a golem. “This is a good model, Cassidy!” the short old man pips. His ears jut out from behind a dripping red hat. “Well, of course it is! The Phoenix Feather always produces the most beautiful specimens!” this one is a towering woman. Her square jaw and protruding make her grin look unsightly. “When’s the Senior Arcane Division stopping by anyway?” the third one snarls. Unlike the other two, he has a normal built. Really, he’s completely unremarkable in every way except for his obviously poor hygiene. “We could always do this one ourselves. It’d catch a fat dime inna minute,” he continues. “That’d piss them off, Crag. We need them. You never know when a ritual is opportune,” the gnome scolds. “Besides, I don’t know if I have enough Fae blood to do such complex feather-smithing. I’ve got to quest on behalf of my ancestors for it!” They continue bickering and paying you no attention. You know these guys. They’re monster hunters. They know. Your soul blares at you to hurry and get back inside your body before they do something horrible! You yank and twist with finesse at this sigil, but it’s hopeless. Your will isn’t strong enough to counteract the Fae. You’re trapped. Every spirit knows that the Fae hold court over ouranic beings. Either you will have to stay bound to these sorcerers, you must strip yourself of traits which allow them to bind you. Self-loathing already grows within your fading spirit. You know better. The underworld is a pit of degeneracy, but this binding star is powered on Fae blood, and you’ve got no leverage. You speak lies. You blaspheme all that is celestial. Your soul ignites with the power of Hell as you curse these three, every beautiful piece of art, and even the most worthy animals in the world. You speak three unholy letters--each one of them degenerate proclamations in their own right--You can feel yourself sinking... You are on a pathway. Everyone and everything is burning, freezing, or puking, including you. Several paths are sculpted out of crystal. They shine: red and blue clashing, yellow and green interwoven. This is Hell? An emerald shatters to your right. Bright red crystals smash through your metal-feathered armor, piercing your arm with arrows. Reaching to dislodge the arrows, your feet compel you to run forward. The sound of rubies smashing into the wall echoes from behind you. Shining lights burn your vision from far down this path. Again, desire strikes you. Something demands you to investigate. You fight this command, but fear beats in your heart constantly. All of sudden you are in complete darkness. The hodgepodge surroundings are gone. Your legs ached from all the running. This place is mad. “Hello,” you hear a jubilant voice coming from all around you. “What are you doing in here? You blurt out, “Who the fuck are you?” “I’m you!” the voice exclaimed. “This is all you!” Its cheery demeanor clashes with this this abyss. “The fuck you mean, ‘you’re me?’ Are you a demon?” you shout. “I told you. I’m you. What are you doing in here in The Chasm anyway?” “I am in Hell. What do you think?” This… thing must’ve been sent to torment you, and you’re letting it. “Well, I’m it pauses, before continuing. “Have you heard of eldritch abominations’ before?” Of course you have, but you don’t say anything. “Well… you’ve been selected to serve a big, hungry monster. Instead of being tortured, you’re gonna get a chance to carve out your own region in my name! Isn’t that wonderful?” at this point. Your jaw hangs open. The lights come on, so to speak. With the speed of flicking a switch, you’re somewhere else. An oceanic environment, where waves push and pull gently. Nothing else exists, unless you count the vast array of black tentacles swishing around. White suckers protrude outward. Before you know it, you’re wrapped in a black coil of unimaginable terrors. “Welcome to my demesne!” it says. The water’s waves smashes into you whenever it speaks. “I call it ‘The Chasm’, and it’s my own little portion of Hell!” the same sensation of ‘the lights coming on’ brushes against your awareness, and instantly you’re in an office setting. The man behind the desk smiles darkly as his face begins to shift. His thin lips and prominent nose fuse together, with a jagged set of fangs spiking out from his jaw. “My name’s Belforx, and I’d like to offer you an… internship. You see, you were descending down into Oblivion, I took the opportunity to save you. In fact, I’d be glad to help you in the future, should you agree to serve me. All you have to do is sign this contract and declare that your soul is mine. In exchange, I will give you a percentage of power to do with as you please. Once you give me your soul, you will identify with me and I will be able to use you. If you don’t accept, I’ll make sure you regret it,” as he speaks his last sentence something switches again. You are drowning. Those black tentacles pull you down. Pressure pops your ears, your throat burn, and you start frantically frailing. All the standard “panicked and drowning” actions. Reluctantly, you say “yes”.
Triggering? on 5/25/2019 2:29:05 PM
I have the same problem with picking out one of several objects on a table. I'm pretty face-blind too. I hope things work out better for you.
A Prose Exercise I Did on 5/14/2019 7:52:12 PM
This isn't really a story. There's no plot structure or anything like that. I've been spending some time on this as a way to dip my toes back into writing. I'm going to turn this into a story at some point. I'm hoping for some feedback. ------ You awaken on a smooth, hard surface. Besides that, your body is too numb to feel anything. Inside this shadowy oval room, a bizarre ‘glug’ sound bounces around this room. Off in a corner, a flickering candle sits, shining with a dim green hue. Rising from the bed, you cross the room. What is it? An enchanting sweet smell emanates from it. Voraciously, you leap at it. Plop! Yeah… you just… plop. You have light! Scrambling to stand, you find yourself in a new location. You are on a pathway. Constant green tinted vision reveals a mixture of iron, clay, crystals, and wood all around you, in the walls. These paths shine from crystalline walls in distorted shapes. This cobblestone pathway is the only way forward. It is cracked, but it has generous even footing. The floor of this place is unsteady, but intuition advises gratefulness for this. Whatever kind of place this is, the trouble of uneven pathways are so minor that you should count it as a luxury. Many people deal with much worse. An emerald shatters to your right. Bright red crystals scatter all over the floor. Your feet run amok. The sound of rubies flowing onto the floor echoes from behind you. Shining lights grip and burn your vision from far down this path. Desire demands you to investigate; that burning bright light is so enchanting. It bounces farther from you before lurching ever closer. You cannot look away. Fear beats in your heart suddenly. You are prey. You are in complete darkness. The hodgepodge surroundings are gone. The shimmering snake-light-thing doesn’t exist anymore. Your legs ached from all the running but now they are silent. This place is mad. You feel like you’re floating. You feel something... swimming towards you. You can’t feel your own body, but you can sense this? What the hell?! “Hello,” you hear a jubilant voice coming from all around you. “What are you doing in here?” “Where the hell am I?” you blurt out, “And who the fuck are you?” “I’m you!” the voice exclaimed. “This is all you!” Its cheery demeanor clashes with this completely dark world. “What are you? What the fuck do you even mean?” you shout; the words meant to pummel some sense into this craziness. “I told you. I’m you. What are you doing in here in The Chasm anyway?” “WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!” you scream. This… thing has been babbling about nonsense this whole time and you’ve had enough. “Uh-oh. This is a code emerald, isn’t it? Do I need to get the elementals in green?” it pauses, before continuing. “Have you heard of the term ‘eldritch abomination’ before?” You don’t say anything. “Well… you’re a fraction of a big, hungry monster. Your stomach is a big void. You’re paralyzed,” the thing character grumbles and sighs, “I guess I’m gonna have to flip the switch, unfortunately.” You feel a ‘swish’ coming from all around you, followed by a cranking noise. The lights come on. The room you are in is completely clear, and as clean as fine china. That’s unimportant though. What is important is the fact that there is a giant silver monster in front of you. It is bipedal, with fins on the legs and muscular arms. A massive arched fin starts at the base of the spine, flowing upward and wrapping around the shoulder blades; they wrap around the shoulders, jutting out so they form two pairs of large tentacles. The head of this creature is a mash-up of an octopus and a dolphin. “You don’t remember me, do you?” he says with melancholy. “Even in this dilapidated state, you’re so lively!” You don’t respond besides biting your lip. “I guess you could call me ‘Mir’. It’s short for ‘Mirror’. That is my function… I wish I could help you more, but you have to seek out Cuisine if you need more help,” Mir states. You swivel around, scoping for the exit. There isn’t one. “Where the hell is the exit?” you spit again. This place ignites fire in your heart. Distorted words come swimming your way. “SPEAK UP!” you yell. “I CAN’T FUCKING HEAR YOU!” More words torpedo your way. This time they’re higher pitched Still, they are not understandable. You twirl around, ready to give this guy a piece of your mind. You hiss, “What did you say?!”, only to find that he is also coming back around from his OWN turn. Is he really mocking you? “Sir, I said that there is no exit. You have to come here if you want to leave!” This dude is trying to placate you. You know it, but that doesn’t matter. Everything he says is wrong! His gross flesh, joviality, and submissiveness are ALL wrong. How DARE him! You charge at this thing, gearing to put cruelty into action. Glass shatters, and everything stops. The lights dim. The wondrous feeling of floating disappears. Your environment shifts once again. Visions rip open your eyes. Heat surrounds you, but doesn’t harm you. The clouds above charge at you like a raging centaur, although you’re not moving. You smash through them. A trail of smoke follows you. The next breath you take erupts out of you in the form of a screech. In that moment, all your visions melt together in one body. You are an elemental. Lava explodes through the sky, flowing into two pairs of massive molten wings. With a second pained caw, a meteor blasts forth from deep inside you. With your last breath, your egg rains cataclysm on the ground.
A Discussion of Essential Ingredients ... on 5/14/2019 5:50:31 PM
In the perfect CYOA, the main character should have agency and the ability to make real changes. That doesn't necessarily mean that they need to be an ultra-powerful badass, a chosen one, or anything else like that, but a good CYOA should take advantage of the medium via good choices for the MC. I don't care if the MC is an audience stand-in or an already established character. Railroading sucks.
Mommy, Can I Go Out... HELP on 4/21/2019 7:12:05 PM
You literally answered your own question. I think you need all three to continue. I haven't played Mommy in awhile, though.
Happy National EndMaster Day! on 4/12/2019 4:10:04 PM
Glory to the Admin on His wondrous day!
Another Dumb Birthday Thread on 4/5/2019 4:50:28 PM
Grief on 3/22/2019 11:35:02 AM
That is tragic. I wish you the best.
Price of Freedom is Back on CYS!!! ^_^ on 1/9/2019 4:35:50 PM
Great! Now they won't drive you insane. :D
Corgi's Unofficial Contest: The Lords of the Land on 1/8/2019 12:46:36 AM
I've already agreed. I am not a brony.