Fluxion, The Reader
I keep forgetting to put something here.
Left to fend for themselves, two children brave a dark forest, and the evil it hides.________________________________________________________________
This storygame is short, and it's kind of a kid's story. It's actually part of an idea I've been rolling around about a collection of fairy tales/spooky tales, a sort of anthology. It's my take on the classic Brother's Grimm tale, and it's not complicated, nor is it replete with a myriad of parallel plot lines. There are three endings (four if you count dying), but do not expect vastly different outcomes: it basically comes down to who ends up dying by the end.
It's also possible to completely avoid the main plot section (The Cottage), although I wouldn't recommend that path, as the story is short enough as it is. I'm not sure if this falls under fantasy or horror, but I think I'll go with horror, even if it isn't particularly scary. It's a bit macabre in places, but ultimately it is a children's story.
Visually speaking, I'd advise playing with images on, otherwise you might have to highlight text in order to read it in some cases. Also, you might want to scroll the text so it isn't directly on top of the moon on a few pages. A mild annoyance, I'm sorry, but I couldn't implement the full scripting I wanted to in order to handle that problem.
Lastly, admittedly this was put together quickly from a base idea jotted down earlier, due to the nuclear attack on the website over the past month, which put me too far behind to finish the entry I wanted to for Killa Robot's "Feels" competition. It is what it is: just a short take on a classic tale. Not a lot of feels, but a little bit of pseudo-early modern English ;).
Republishing (again) due to image hosting issues. 1/8/2018
Some quick info on the setting: It is generally believed that hominids lost their thick fur around 1.2 million years ago or so, give or take. However, for the sake of this story, Homo neanderthalensis will have thicker body hair than Homo sapiens (not bear-thick, but still thicker). There are two reasons I have chosen to do this: (1) They lived in the colder regions. (2) Homo neanderthalensis appears to have had primitive clothing compared to Homo sapiens; basically just fur capes, while Homo sapiens had more advanced stitching and more tightly tailored clothing (which kept them more warm). So I feel having neanderthals a little more hairy than Homo sapiens is a reasonable liberty for me to take in this story.
As for language and technology, both Homo sapiens and Homo neanderthalensis shared almost identical vocal anatomy where it matters. Despite neanderthals not having left behind nearly as much advanced artwork, they very likely had complex language just like Homo sapiens. As for fire technology, for the purpose of this story I am assuming that different hominid tribes were further advanced than others, irrespective of species. The neanderthal tribe the protagonist comes from has yet to master creation of fire.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
Update: Put an End Game link on the same page the Epilogue link is, so you can skip it if you want, since it is so unpopular ;) .
The Story of Count Osmond Jorgensen
There's no price a good man won't pay to save the woman he loves...
It was an unlikely marriage, but still somehow a happy one. Though he barely knew her, Count Osmond Jorgensen counted himself fortunate on the day of his wedding. Talia was more than he could have ever hoped for: beautiful, temperate, and always smiling. Osmond was fully taken, and believed that he would do anything for her. Over the years, he discovered just how far he'd go for the woman he loved.
Additional notes: This short story is tangentially part of the Witch Hunter series. It is a more fleshed out historical account of Count Osmond Jorgensen, which is briefly mentioned in the inventory book "On Witches, Werewolves and Wyverns."
WARNING: There isn't much by way of blatantly graphic sex in this storygame, but there are plenty of deviant erotic situations, including some pretty rapey ones. If such scenarios disturb you, this storygame probably isn't for you.
At its core, this storygame is a tale of a screwed up BDSM relationship, which you cultivate as the ultimate "sub." The goal of this storygame is to get your boss to engage in as many "unprofessional" acts as possible, and to eventually sway him into falling for you, all without getting fired along the way. If you make the right decisions, the game escalates from event to event, bringing you closer and closer to a relationship with your boss. It's pretty linear, and you'll know for certain if you get the "winning" ending. Let's just say it will involve a leash and some public humiliation. *1/8/2019 Republishing to re-upload background images.
You work in a small law firm, performing both receptionist and data entry roles. Your job is thankless and tedious, but one thing keeps you coming back: your boss, Brandon Wheeler. Aloof and dispassionate, Wheeler exudes a muted but overwhelming power you find irresistible, and you are determined to tame that power, even if it costs you your career.
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VALENTINE'S DAY WRITING JAM SESSION on 2/15/2020 8:27:26 PM
Okay, done. That was a little rapey, but I liked it. I'd be interested in seeing more of this world.
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VALENTINE'S DAY WRITING JAM SESSION on 2/11/2020 9:03:03 PM
Candles and Cake
You always liked burning scented candles and incense at the same time. I thought you were crazy, of course, but I could never understand girls like you. Girls at all, if I'm honest. But regardless, I got the candles and incense. I even found that weird scent you like. What is it called? Galbanum resin, I think. I couldn't find it at any of the stores, though. I had to chase down some shady street vendor to get it.
Those guys are funny. Have you ever seen them when the police ride by on their horses? Oh my god, it's hysterical. They scatter like cockroaches when you turn on a light. I know, I know, I shouldn't be such an asshole, but I can't help it. Anyway, this guy, I think he was an Iranian immigrant, he had the Galbanum resin incense. And yes, I'll admit it: I bought a couple cigars from the guy, too. Hey, don't judge me. I know I shouldn't smoke, but I think you can appreciate a little R and R after all the shit that's happened the last few years.
Oh, and of course, I almost forgot the best part: I brought the cake. German double-chocolate, your favorite. The lengths I had to go through to get it, too... if I told you, well, I'd have to kill you. Ha! Yes, that's a bit dark, given the circumstances, but if there is anything I have ever understood about you, it's your appreciation of dark humor. And cake. I remember that time we had that food fight, and you got chocolate frosting in your hair. It was so much fun, but I could have sworn I caught a glimpse of mourning in your eye when we were done, a deep sadness that you didn't get to eat it. Well, fear not: you'll have the whole cake this time, my dear!
Er, well, at least most of it. I have to confess, I did eat a slice of your cake. But can you blame me? Who doesn't like German double-chocolate cake? The rest is all for you, though. I'm sure some birds might steal some, too, but you always loved birds. My therapist thinks I'm a nutjob for doing this every year. She might be right, especially if you consider the opportunity cost of not eating the entire cake! But in all seriousness, I know it's hard for a kid to have a birthday on a holiday, especially Valentine's Day when she has a divorced father spending every year trying to snare a wife. And that's all I was back then: a single dad spending all his time looking for love.
I wish I wouldn't have been, though.
If only I wouldn't have gotten a room at that expensive hotel to impress her. If only I would have driven you to your slumber party instead. I wouldn't be sitting here, crying in front of you, laying out these candles and incense. Why did I trust someone so young? I don't blame your friend Amber, but she was only sixteen, driving all the way to the city on a Friday, in a van full of teenage girls. It only takes one second of distraction. I blame myself. I knew better. But no one ever thinks about that sort of thing. Least of all someone in love.
But what I'm most sorry of all about is that we fought about it earlier in the day. God, you were so angry, saying she was some stupid slut and would be gone in a few weeks. Well, you were right. We lasted a while, but she couldn't deal with me, especially after what happened.
What am I doing? I'm sorry. You don't want to hear about all that. Let me change the subject.
Do you like these flowers? I don't know if you notice, but they're the same ones you wore in your hair in that play you did in sixth grade. I think they'll look nice here. I'll be sure to replace them every few weeks.
Well, I probably ought to go. The sun's setting, and your little brother's baby sitter is probably getting anxious to get home. Don't be sad that Max won't come. He's still young. When he gets older I'm sure he'll want to come with me. One day we'll all be a family again, I know it.
Happy birthday, my sweet daughter, and happy Valentine's Day. I love you, and I'll see you again soon.
The Weekly Review - Edition 42 on 2/9/2020 7:14:57 PM