WizzyCat, The Dramatist
This one is machine and nerve, and has its mind concluded.
100k Storygame Progress: Mostly PAUSED until I finish Manifest Destiny contest..
Plan on updating this word count once a week to keep myself accountable. Prod me if I don't, and if you really feel like it, prod me anyway.
In a world where consciousness is stored on a hard drive, the most heinous crime is hacking.
Author's Note: A police officer is supposed to be a righteous dispenser of justice, but in the future, the idea of morality is basically nonexistent. Nonetheless, a lot of choices in this game can be broken down into "things a good, moralistic police officer should do" and "amoral things that get the job done". Going down one path or the other will eventually result in you being locked out of the other entirely, but it will also give you access to new epilogues and options.
Entry to the Cyberpunk Contest.
A Halo fanfiction. Story knowledge is not required, but some basic knowledge of the franchise is ideal.
On a desolate colony near the edge of human space, a Forerunner installation is located. ONI sends an expeditionary force, containing a single Spartan II, to investigate. However, ONI aren't the only ones searching for Forerunner tech.
After the Dark Age of Technology during the 21st and 22nd centuries, humanity decided to reach for the stars. Or at least the megacorps decided to, leaving behind anyone too poor or too stubborn or too old to board the ships headed for Mars and Europa. With that, the Great Expansion started: Venus, Jupiter, Saturn, the Asteroid Belt, all were encompassed by the sovereignty of the newly formed United Human Federation, or UHF. Well... that's what the UHF would have you believe. The truth is a different beast entirely.
After graduating a prestigious engineering college on Mars and patenting a valuable new piece of tech, you were approached by the Black Hoods, a completely untraceable organization that dealt with the salvage of shipwrecks across the solar system. Despite the absurd protocols (all in the name of total secrecy), the mind-boggling pay convinced you to join. What can you discover among the derelict wreckage of humanity?
Recent PostsTechnical Question about Links on 7/27/2021 12:31:27 PM
Oh yikes, you need to start using a better browser, such as internet explorer.
Technical Question about Links on 7/27/2021 12:26:15 PM
If you don't have the extension yet, now is a good time to get it!
BLACKSMITH Game 1 on 7/27/2021 1:32:01 AM
The armored blacksmith ponders the situation for a moment. He'd been prepping for some sort of catastrophic world-ending event for a while, and selling the personal possessions required for this seems immoral. At the same time, money.
He rushes out of the room, much too fast for his carapace of at least 300 pounds of steel. The spectators watch as he makes his way, legs blurring and turning into wheels, down the central street. Within mere minutes, he's back, with a massive siege weapon, constructed of a shimmering, orange gelatin—within the substance are embedded small flakes of yellowish-green.
The smith takes a pose, and announces, "Voila! This, right here, is the one and only, |Stretchy| |Jalapeno-flavored| |Trebuchet| |Of the Sun| !"
A few brows perk up at the mention of "Sun", but most come right back down when they realize that this weapon is made of the same material as those novelty exercise balls that were in fashion for a very, very short amount of time (roughly one lunch break). Several people frown, and several others go to get something spicy from the snack bar, suddenly and inexplicably craving heat.
The smith coughs, "Come on, it's rather, uh, impressive, isn't it? Haha, right?" he coughs again, this time like a pack-a-day smoker.
He turns the fit into an attempt at clearing his throat, and then continues talking, "Anyways, yea. This contraption might not look like much, but it was actually designed by me, explicitly to send hordes of tards, in huge numbers, back to the devilish short bus from whence they came! First, the sun part. This trebuchet has a pretty nasty, both on your wallet and the enemy, enchantment. It shoots straight up, motherfuckin' fireballs. Each mob you face can get an exploding mini-sun to the face! It also doesn't require any reloading nonsense, so you can fire it, like, a lot faster! If that barrage doesn't do the trick, then the trebuchet is capable of withstanding a heavy onslaught. Its incredible stretch is able to resist even the greatest of retard strength, and when they're tired of pulling, any attempt to bite it will result in a searing mouth that they definitely won't enjoy! Due to the lack of ammunition and pulleys, as well as a material much lighter than wood, this thing can be transported by a single man, or woman, allowing you to maneuver this thing around the battlefield, easily juking out the bum-rushing tards. A single horse can pull it at practically the same speed that it runs! Obviously, the weapon falters against enemies with cleaving weapons, but retards at most use a hammer. It also suffers against those with a refined palate, but retards lack that as well! With the safety of your city at risk, you surely won't take anything less than the power of the sun, will you?"
How to Write A CYOA Story? on 7/24/2021 10:08:08 AM
If you're just rewriting the same scene with minor differences, then you could use scripting to help you out! Unfortunately, I only know of the most basic script, so I'm not of much assistance here.
BLACKSMITH Game 1 on 7/21/2021 1:16:04 AM
After three days of hearing the armored blacksmith shout various things like "stoke the bellows", "cast that concave", and "more coal", the confused crowd is greeted by his stoic form once more. When he takes the stage, he begins withdrawing an item from behind his back, but he looks down and jolts.
"Oh my god!" he exclaims. "I've made a horrible error!" Scuttling back into his forging room, he closes the door. An orchestra of metallic screeches and human shuffling is heard, before he reemerges, seemingly unchanged.
"You see, I forgot to take off my smithing clothes and put on my business clothes!" he laughs awkwardly. Everyone stares, not maliciously, but just confusedly. Just like they did in middle school!
He pulls out a pair of white, iridescent underpants and clears his throat violently. He begins again, "These are not just a pair of tighty whities, for they are |Sarcastic| |Pearl| |Underpants| |Engraved with a picture of a moose|. Fanfare, go!"
A single trumpet toots pathetically. Silence hovers. The armored blacksmith walks over to the player and pulls him aside. "Goddammit," he growls. "I told you, I wanted some more pizzazz to help convince the audience on how, uh, good this, thing, is. That was piss ass, not pizzazz! Get out of here, or I'll clobber you with this!"
He returns to the stage and begins again, "Anyways, this multi-purpose tool is everything that you're looking for in a frie—companion! Let's just say companion. Let's say you're fighting some guys. Well, this thing serves as both a shield," the blacksmith puts it down, pulls out a massive claymore, and smashes the underpants to no effect. "And it's also a weapon, although I'm sure I don't have to show you the blunt trauma that it can cause. Pearl is a tough material, and if you don't believe me, just buy this thing and try it out! Now, I know you're already thinking, 'wow this is an amazing weapon', but that's not all. This moose engraving can talk! And it's got some sass!"
The moose head sighs, "If only sass were enough to make you kill yourself, stupid armored cunt."
The smith laughs heartily, "Boy, he sure is a funny guy! And before I forget, there's one last way you can use the underpants: as a helmet!" He takes the garment and puts it atop his helmet; it looks vaguely like some sort of demented spartan's helmet.
"You look like such a queer," the moose head scoffs.
The blacksmith takes a bow.
"God, is it even possible to be more gay?"
"Oh, and before I forget, the moose head can shut up on command. At least I hope, he doesn't really listen to me, but with you, it'll be different!"
"Get off the stage, it's embarassing. I just want to be used in a homicide already."
End Master's Manifest Destiny Contest on 7/20/2021 12:08:05 AM
End Master's Manifest Destiny Contest on 7/20/2021 12:07:55 AM
Well I got hit with a wagonload of inspiration, so I'm joining. And yes, I will still try to revise FAILsafe in this time.
CYBERPUNK CONTEST 2021 on 7/19/2021 2:06:49 PM
I think the real difference between boring dystopia and cyberpunk is some flair and mohawks. I do hope we get more cyberpunk in the future, because it's a good genre, but rather sparse in terms of content (and this contest didn't help very much, unfortunately). Also, I'm going to the beach, and I'll have plenty of time to write in between college bullshit, so my rewrite will hopefully be done in a week. Basically, I'm just adding everything that I cut, so there should be a bit more branching and a couple extra epilogues sprinkled in.
A Late Greeting on 7/19/2021 12:29:11 AM
Welcome to the site! I can see that other's have answered your questions, but I would like to add that there's usually two big and official contests per year, one in summer and one in winter. Hope you enjoy your time here!
The Pit of Eternal SHAME on 7/17/2021 10:42:04 PM
Very shameful, very sad