Door #1, Curtain #2, and Jaw #3

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You wake up in a dark room. Find the [[Light Switch]] or [[Door Knob]]

The lights come on. You're in a gray, stone room. There is a big wooden door, a small metal door, a dirty bed, and a pool of blood. No, it is not yours. Go through the [[Wooden Door]] or the [[Metal Door]]

You turn the brass handle on a [[Wooden Door]]

A raucous hallway. Armoured guards run both ways. Peacocks only run left. Nude women only run right. Go [[left]] go [[right]]

A metal tunnel. Cold. Smells nice though. Enter the [[tunnel|Vent]] or return to the [[Light Switch]]?

Your run with the peacocks with reckless abandon. As you run down the hall, the guards pay you no mind. You pass an arch leading to a great hall. Ahead of you, there is an ajar door leading to a garden. You stop in the [[Hallway]].

As you follow the nude women, a guard stops you. With a sword. The end of a sword. You are stabbed. Good bye. [[YOU DIED.|The Dark Room]]

It's not quite an air vent, castles don't usually DO air vents. But like. It sure is a metal tunnel through the walls of a castle. You crawl for a few minutes. You hear voices through a Not-a-vent. A woman's voice, then a man's. You [[Nosy bastard]], you're gonna listen in, aren't you?

Are you wearing any clothes? [[Yes]] or [[No|never gonna give you up]]

A sunny day in the garden. The roses bloom. The statues are towering. The trees are topped with lace. The gardeners smile. All of them. Unwaveringly. Unblinkingly. Men and women with rosy cheeks and bared teeth. Ahead is a [[Hedge Maze]]. To the left is a [[Pond]]. To the right is a [[Dirt Road]] with a rickety carriage and black-cloaked footman. Or do you go back into the [[Hallway]] like some kind of pussy?

Through the entrance of the lush hedge maze you take a left. Then a right, then a left. Or was it a left, then a right? Amid your contemplation, you nearly step on a smol and friendly snek! You apologize to this new friend- how would you like it if you were minding your own business in a hedge maze and someone came and stepped on you? Befriend the [[Snake]]?

You meander over to a fish pond. The closer you get the deeper it looks. Koi swim, frogs jump, and something very large swims much deeper. A short man walks up to you. Very short. Perhaps 3 feet tall. He's like a fisherman, yellow coat and all. He hands you a cracker. You eat the cracker. You realize you haven't eaten all day. What a nice man. The nice man punches you behind the knee and shoves you into the pond. SPLASH What a nice man. You fall [[Under the Water]]

As you approach, the footman opens the door to the rickety carriage. "Doctor Atwell, I presume?" He says in a voice deeper than hell. You are notably not Dr. Atwell. [[Get in the Carriage]] or [[Correct him]]

To your left you see the [[Great Hall]], full of noble people and no peacocks. The peacocks continue out the ajar door at the end of the hall leading into the [[Garden]]. Where do you go?

You slip into the room unnoticed. The band plays on, the nobles chatter. You spy a table full of food across the room. Fuck, you're hungry. You slip along the corner of the room. The band is very good. The bard in the front with the lute and the dashing tights has a voice like warm caramel. You pop grapes into your mouth as inconspicuously as possible. Is? Is the bard staring at you? Yes? Yes. Definitely yes. He looks into your eyes. [[He sings to you|Minstrel Poem]]

You step inside the carriage. It's lined with deep purple velvet Damask fabric and smells of pipe smoke. The carriage jostles as you feel the footman climb up into the drivers seat. It lurches [[forward|Traveling Companion]].

"Nope," you say. "My mistake," he says, with a voice deeper than a cut to the bone. He shuts the door, but does not break his gaze from you. You stop walking. Is he threatening you? Is this a challenge? [[Well is it?]]

No, it isn't. He just made a very embarrassing social booboo and would rather not be here, but frankly has nowhere else to be standing because eventually Doctor Atwell will come and needs to be a good footman because this is his only source of income, and he has a wife at home to think about, but he would much rather be anywhere but here with you wallowing in his obvious and stupid mistake, making him feel dumb and small and wishing he could just shrink down to complete invisibility, so really your presence is tormenting this man, you're such a dick, why didn't you just lie like a sensible person? Anyway left is a dark forest, right is a small peasant farm, where to? [[Forest]] [[Farm]]

You smile cautiously then powerwalk like a suburban mother of three into the forest. The forest is nice. Birds sing, squirrels chitter, and Something growls. Ahead is a campsite. A small fire burns. A single old woman hunches over a pot on the fire. Smells tasty. [[Go say hi]]

You arrive outside a small farm. It's idyllic, with green grass, red walls, thatched roof, and black and white cows aplenty. You notice some [[Playing kids]]. You also notice a [[Sheep|A poem from a Sheep]] standing alone up a hill. Or you could just stand here and stare at the farm for a while.

The water is warm. Comforting. Caressing. It holds you like an amniotic sac before new life. You will never get to know what swims beneath you. You make peace with your ignorant bliss. You [[Drown|The Dark Room]] at peace.

"'Scuse me ma'am, that smells wonderful." "WHAT?" SHE SAYS "I said that smells wonderful!" You say again but louder. "THANK YOU!" SHE SAYS "I'm having a hell of a day, could I have some?" you ask "QUESTIONS FIRST!" She says, pulling a tattered notebook from her bathrobe. "WHAT ARE YOU?" [[A Man| Question 2]] [[A Woman| Question 2]] [[A Human| Question 2]] [[A Martian| Question 2]] [[A Mormon| Question 2]] [[A Cynic| Question 2]] [[A Vegan| Question 2]] [[A Real Journalist, Dad.| Question 2]] [[Complicated| Question 2]] [[Unclear| Question 2]] [[Scared| Question 2]] [[A Mom, so I've seen it all!| Question 2]] [[Boris Godunov Tsar of Russia 1598| Question 2]]

She sighs. She throws her head back. "AREN'T WE ALL!" She yells. She looks directly at you. Through you. Her pupils shrink, her hazel irises flood her eye sockets. She slowly raises her hand to point at you." "How do you suspect you'll die?" She whispers. [[A vehicle crash| Question 4]] [[A heart attack| Question 4]] [[A shooting| Question 4]] [[Drowning| Question 4]] [[Dramatically| Question 4]] [[Quietly| Question 4]] [[A dildo| Question 4]] [[An apricot pit| Question 4]] [[My cousin, Mark.| Question 4]] [[Accidentally wandering into a tiger pit or something, I dunno man, I'm real dumb| Question 4]] [[A virgin| Question 4]] [[I'm already dead| Question 4]] [[Alone| Question 4]] [[After a lengthy illness and a stroke on in April of 1605, I will die and my sons will rule in my absence for a few months until power is seized by our enemies and the country descends into the Time of Troubles| Question 4]]

She drops her hand and her eyes go white. All is still. "Wrong." "What? What do you mean-?" And before you can fucking blink, this bitch whips a long-ass hatpin out of her bathrobe and shanks you in the side with it. It Hurts. You Scream. It doesn't matter. You fall to the ground. You clutch your side as you bleed out. She returns to cooking. It still smells really fucking good. [[Return to the start?|The Dark Room]]

Help your new snake friend eat the apples! Look at him go! That's one hunngry snake! <!DOCTYPE html> <html> <head> <title></title> <style> html, body { height: 100%; margin: 0; } body { background: black; display: flex; align-items: center; justify-content: center; } canvas { border: 2px solid white; } </style> </head> <body> <canvas width="400" height="400" id="game"></canvas> <script> var canvas = document.getElementById('game'); var context = canvas.getContext('2d'); var grid = 16; var count = 0; var snake = { x: 160, y: 160, // snake velocity. moves one grid length every frame in either the x or y direction dx: grid, dy: 0, // keep track of all grids the snake body occupies cells: [], // length of the snake. grows when eating an apple maxCells: 4 }; var apple = { x: 320, y: 320 }; // get random whole numbers in a specific range // @see https://stackoverflow.com/a/1527820/2124254 function getRandomInt(min, max) { return Math.floor(Math.random() * (max - min)) + min; } // game loop function loop() { requestAnimationFrame(loop); // slow game loop to 15 fps instead of 60 (60/15 = 4) if (++count < 4) { return; } count = 0; context.clearRect(0,0,canvas.width,canvas.height); // move snake by it's velocity snake.x += snake.dx; snake.y += snake.dy; // wrap snake position horizontally on edge of screen if (snake.x < 0) { snake.x = canvas.width - grid; } else if (snake.x >= canvas.width) { snake.x = 0; } // wrap snake position vertically on edge of screen if (snake.y < 0) { snake.y = canvas.height - grid; } else if (snake.y >= canvas.height) { snake.y = 0; } // keep track of where snake has been. front of the array is always the head snake.cells.unshift({x: snake.x, y: snake.y}); // remove cells as we move away from them if (snake.cells.length > snake.maxCells) { snake.cells.pop(); } // draw apple context.fillStyle = 'red'; context.fillRect(apple.x, apple.y, grid-1, grid-1); // draw snake one cell at a time context.fillStyle = 'black'; snake.cells.forEach(function(cell, index) { // drawing 1 px smaller than the grid creates a grid effect in the snake body so you can see how long it is context.fillRect(cell.x, cell.y, grid-1, grid-1); // snake ate apple if (cell.x === apple.x && cell.y === apple.y) { snake.maxCells++; // canvas is 400x400 which is 25x25 grids apple.x = getRandomInt(0, 25) * grid; apple.y = getRandomInt(0, 25) * grid; } // check collision with all cells after this one (modified bubble sort) for (var i = index + 1; i < snake.cells.length; i++) { // snake occupies same space as a body part. reset game if (cell.x === snake.cells[i].x && cell.y === snake.cells[i].y) { snake.x = 160; snake.y = 160; snake.cells = []; snake.maxCells = 4; snake.dx = grid; snake.dy = 0; apple.x = getRandomInt(0, 25) * grid; apple.y = getRandomInt(0, 25) * grid; } } }); } // listen to keyboard events to move the snake document.addEventListener('keydown', function(e) { // prevent snake from backtracking on itself by checking that it's // not already moving on the same axis (pressing left while moving // left won't do anything, and pressing right while moving left // shouldn't let you collide with your own body) // left arrow key if (e.which === 37 && snake.dx === 0) { snake.dx = -grid; snake.dy = 0; } // up arrow key else if (e.which === 38 && snake.dy === 0) { snake.dy = -grid; snake.dx = 0; } // right arrow key else if (e.which === 39 && snake.dx === 0) { snake.dx = grid; snake.dy = 0; } // down arrow key else if (e.which === 40 && snake.dy === 0) { snake.dy = grid; snake.dx = 0; } }); // start the game requestAnimationFrame(loop); </script> </body> </html> Well, that was fun. Time to [[move on|Snake Prince]].

<!DOCTYPE html> <html> <head> <title></title> <style> html, body { height: 100%; margin: 0; } body { background: black; display: flex; align-items: center; justify-content: center; } </style> </head> <body> <canvas width="750" height="585" id="game"></canvas> <script> const canvas = document.getElementById('game'); const context = canvas.getContext('2d'); const grid = 15; const paddleHeight = grid * 5; // 80 const maxPaddleY = canvas.height - grid - paddleHeight; var paddleSpeed = 6; var ballSpeed = 5; const leftPaddle = { // start in the middle of the game on the left side x: grid * 2, y: canvas.height / 2 - paddleHeight / 2, width: grid, height: paddleHeight, // paddle velocity dy: 0 }; const rightPaddle = { // start in the middle of the game on the right side x: canvas.width - grid * 3, y: canvas.height / 2 - paddleHeight / 2, width: grid, height: paddleHeight, // paddle velocity dy: 0 }; const ball = { // start in the middle of the game x: canvas.width / 2, y: canvas.height / 2, width: grid, height: grid, // keep track of when need to reset the ball position resetting: false, // ball velocity (start going to the top-right corner) dx: ballSpeed, dy: -ballSpeed }; // check for collision between two objects using axis-aligned bounding box (AABB) // @see https://developer.mozilla.org/en-US/docs/Games/Techniques/2D_collision_detection function collides(obj1, obj2) { return obj1.x < obj2.x + obj2.width && obj1.x + obj1.width > obj2.x && obj1.y < obj2.y + obj2.height && obj1.y + obj1.height > obj2.y; } // game loop function loop() { requestAnimationFrame(loop); context.clearRect(0,0,canvas.width,canvas.height); // move paddles by their velocity leftPaddle.y += leftPaddle.dy; rightPaddle.y += rightPaddle.dy; // prevent paddles from going through walls if (leftPaddle.y < grid) { leftPaddle.y = grid; } else if (leftPaddle.y > maxPaddleY) { leftPaddle.y = maxPaddleY; } if (rightPaddle.y < grid) { rightPaddle.y = grid; } else if (rightPaddle.y > maxPaddleY) { rightPaddle.y = maxPaddleY; } // draw paddles context.fillStyle = 'white'; context.fillRect(leftPaddle.x, leftPaddle.y, leftPaddle.width, leftPaddle.height); context.fillRect(rightPaddle.x, rightPaddle.y, rightPaddle.width, rightPaddle.height); // move ball by its velocity ball.x += ball.dx; ball.y += ball.dy; // prevent ball from going through walls by changing its velocity if (ball.y < grid) { ball.y = grid; ball.dy *= -1; } else if (ball.y + grid > canvas.height - grid) { ball.y = canvas.height - grid * 2; ball.dy *= -1; } // reset ball if it goes past paddle (but only if we haven't already done so) if ( (ball.x < 0 || ball.x > canvas.width) && !ball.resetting) { ball.resetting = true; // give some time for the player to recover before launching the ball again setTimeout(() => { ball.resetting = false; ball.x = canvas.width / 2; ball.y = canvas.height / 2; }, 400); } // check to see if ball collides with paddle. if they do change x velocity if (collides(ball, leftPaddle)) { ball.dx *= -1; // move ball next to the paddle otherwise the collision will happen again // in the next frame ball.x = leftPaddle.x + leftPaddle.width; } else if (collides(ball, rightPaddle)) { ball.dx *= -1; // move ball next to the paddle otherwise the collision will happen again // in the next frame ball.x = rightPaddle.x - ball.width; } // draw ball context.fillRect(ball.x, ball.y, ball.width, ball.height); // draw walls context.fillStyle = 'lightgrey'; context.fillRect(0, 0, canvas.width, grid); context.fillRect(0, canvas.height - grid, canvas.width, canvas.height); // draw dotted line down the middle for (let i = grid; i < canvas.height - grid; i += grid * 2) { context.fillRect(canvas.width / 2 - grid / 2, i, grid, grid); } } // listen to keyboard events to move the paddles document.addEventListener('keydown', function(e) { // up arrow key if (e.which === 38) { rightPaddle.dy = -paddleSpeed; } // down arrow key else if (e.which === 40) { rightPaddle.dy = paddleSpeed; } // w key if (e.which === 87) { leftPaddle.dy = -paddleSpeed; } // a key else if (e.which === 83) { leftPaddle.dy = paddleSpeed; } }); // listen to keyboard events to stop the paddle if key is released document.addEventListener('keyup', function(e) { if (e.which === 38 || e.which === 40) { rightPaddle.dy = 0; } if (e.which === 83 || e.which === 87) { leftPaddle.dy = 0; } }); // start the game requestAnimationFrame(loop); </script> </body> </html> Well, this was fun, but you better be [[going|angry kids]]

A little girl with two braids, a smattering of freckles, three eyes, and a big toothy grin notices you first and waves you over. A little boy with hair gelled up into spikes and no smile hands you a busted tennis racket that was laying in a pile of toys. Seems you're on his team. They have a little game of badminton going with a makeshift net of a threadbare sheet and tennis rackets. The shuttlecock is hot pink. [[Play with the children?|Pong]]

Sweet music glides off his tongue, and drips into your ears... "With eyes like stars, my starstruck eyes, now bound to them by golden chords, drift sweetly on your lullabies. Though you’ll not note my reverent guise, for masked by music I move towards the eyes like stars, my starstruck eyes. And since my lips you’ll not chastise as blushing pilgrims: take no guards, drift sweetly on my lullabies. Now … … unforeseen sunrise. Blinded by, from ladies and lords, your eyes like stars, my starstruck eyes. New ‘noted’ angel I apprise, exchange heart’s keys and as reward: drift sweetly on our lullabies. For if from music love does rise, a bard’s devotion makes us birds. With eyes like stars, my starstruck eyes drift sweetly on your lullabies." As he serenades you, you are drawn to him. Like a child to vanilla birthday cake. He gently extends his hand to you. His smile crinkles his soft eyes and wills you to take hold. [[Take his hand]]? Or do you fear intimacy? Mood. Make a [[Hasty exit]]? Poem- "Musica Universalis" (2020) by Mina Maderi

The sheep stares at you. Its eyes. Its eyes are nearly human. Hauntingly human. It opens its mouth and unblinkingly utters: Bleeding, something bit me the dog is already running towards the threat, throat guttural and loud as she chases down a blur of gray in the distance. My eyes roll downwards and I shriek at the scarlet color stark against the static white softness. Unbelievable; it will take ages to get out, if it comes out at all; the others are staring and staring they will continue until the human comes to see what has been done oh god will he kill me the product is ruined tainted darkened with reddened hue haunting the skin beneath the thickness coating me i am nothing without my wool but my wool is not nothing without me no it is Worth something but am I Worth something Alone? am i worth without my product am i a product is the product me is the body me or is the wool me without the wool i am merely skin and bones and prey for the wolf who the dog brings back a piece of him in her jaws she is mine my protector i am nothing without her but she is something with- out [[me|sheep attack]]. Poem- Sheep (2020) by Eli Vandegrift

As your naked ass waltzes into the great hall, the band stops. The noble people, in their robes of silk and lace and velvet and leather, look mildly bothered, but somehow unsurprised? One noblewoman leans to whisper to another. You feel eyes on you. All eyes. But two eyes in particular. The eyes on the stage. The bards eyes are alight. He starts to [[play]]:

"Sssssstop" comes a voice from behind you. As you turn, you see the snake change his form from a wee lil snake to a tall, handsome man. "Stop," he asks, in a voice so sweet, "You've shown me kindness where the gardeners have not. Thank you, you are a kind soul. Can you help me?" You're cautious. The fuck kind of dark magic was this boy messing with to get him snakified? [[Help him?]] Or [[Keep on walkin']]

(link:"You know this song...")[<embed src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/oHg5SJYRHA0" width="640" height="480"></embed>] [[Sweet Jam| Death by embarassment]]

They laugh at you. They laugh so hard, you fuckin' weenie. He got you so good! This bard in 15-hundred-whatever learned a 2010's meme JUST to get you. You must be so embarrased. [[You die of embarassment|The Dark Room]]

You delicately reach up to take his hand. He bows deeply and kisses it. He leaps off the stage, gestures to the harpsichordist to play on, and pulls you into a HASTEN like a GENTLEMAN. You and your new boy toy hasten into the [[kitchen]].

You hike up your skirt and shove like 5 more grapes in your mouth before hastening out of the hall. The nobles all stare at you. Rich people don't HASTEN they GLIDE. Haste is for people with places to be, like jobs, and consequences for tardiness, like losing said jobs. Your sense of self preservation causes you to GLIDE HASTILY out of the great hall. As you tear out of the hall, you hang a right into the [[Garden]] You hear the sound of the bard's heart breaking behind you.

"I just can't do this anymore!" The woman says in a youthful voice. "Of course you can! We can do anything together! You make me feel invincible!" says the man. "But our parents, if they found out-" "Forget our parents, I know a guy who could marry us tomorrow if we asked." Oh the follies of young love. "'Scuse me?" You interject from within the walls. They go silent. You continue, "No worries, I mean you no harm, don't even know who you are, but I couldn't help but over hear as I was escaping the room I woke up in, that you two are in a bit of a tiff. A row, if you will. I have a suggestion,-" [[Girl, dump him.|suggestion 1]] [[Fuck your parents, do what you want.|suggestion 2]]

Great advice. "...please don't..." You hear him whisper. Her silence is deafening. Welp, glad that's sorted. [[Crawl on|Kitchen]]

Great advice. They get real quiet. "Hello?" She calls. "God?" He asks "Yep, that's me, I'm God. In my all knowing wisdom I say fuck your parents do what you want. You're your own people, you got brains, think for yourself." "Thank you God!" He says. You continue, "But also, baby don't you let this man tell you what you want. If you want to stay single for YOU then you do it for YOU." "I don't think you're God, but thank you?" "God doesn't care what you think. You're welcome." Glad that's sorted. [[Crawl on|Kitchen]]

You crawl out of the not-a-vent into a bustling kitchen. Check out how rad and STOCKED this kitchen is! Shockingly, rich people must live in this castle. But there are no rich people here. Kitchen staff lives here. The rich people will be outside, enjoying the fruits of these people's labor. There are serfs in here. They are indifferent to your presence. The cary on their work with their cold, dead eyes. The bourgeoisie have broken their spirits. Haunting. Rich people can be heard partying it up with a bard in the adjacent [[Great Hall]]. You wanna try to join them? To your left is another metal door. [[Crawl in|Oven]]?

You just crawled into the oven, dumbass. Delicious, baked you. Maybe look before you leap [[next time|The Dark Room]]?

The grizzled old man mutters under his breath: The men who seek skies Only fools trade earth for air Eye is only air The men who seek skies Only fools trade earth for air Aye, is only air The men who seek skies Only fools trade earth for air 'I' is only air The men who seek skies Only fools trade earth for air Eye is only air The men who seek skies Only fools trade earth for air Aye, is only air The men who seek skies Only fools trade earth for air 'I' is only air The men who seek skies Only fools trade earth for air Eye is only air The men who seek skies Only fools trade earth for air Aye, is only air The men who seek skies Only fools trade earth for air 'I' is only air The men who seek skies Only fools trade earth for air Eye is only air The men who seek skies Only fools trade earth for air Aye, is only air The men who seek skies Only fools trade earth for air 'I' is only air ......[[Neat dude]].

You are entranced. A talking sheep, whom the fuck? You stagger closer. You don't know why. Maybe to pet it? Ask it its secrets? Or maybe because you can not turn your back on it now. One soul laid bare deserves another. You reach out your hand. The sheep throws its head back, and its teeth clamp down around your hand. [[Ow|Death by sheep]].

Ow. Ow? ...ow? The pain dissolves. Your hand dissolves. The ether around you and the sheep ripples into rainbows, a psychodelic dream of disaster. It's you and the sheep, floating, spinning, staring at eachother. You tell the sheep your deepest secret. You, personally, you reading this text. Your deepest secret. Maybe it can hurt someone, maybe that someone is only you. You don't know why. He didn't ask. Yet you felt overwhelmingly compelled to speak it aloud. The sheep doesn't react. Nothing reacts. How does it feel to watch something so meaningful to you have so little meaning to the the world? Your shame means nothing. Your fear means nothing. You mean nothing here. Your deepest secret is loose in the ether, and no one actually gives a shit. Are you relieved? Are you angry? Ashamed? Scared? It doesn't matter. The world goes [[dark|The Dark Room]] anyway.

As you lay your racket down and thank the kids for the game, your teammate, spikey boy, angrily throws down his racket and hrmphs back into the little farmhouse. Three-eyed girl looks delighted in her victory over her brother. You nod to her and start back toward the road. Suddenly, a little hand grabs your wrist. Three-eyed girl is staring up at you with all three brown eyes. She tugs your wrist, trying to pull you toward the house. "Pease?" She says. [[Go with her?| Follow Amy]] Or go back to the [[road|Farm]] , you heartless bastard?

You release the tension in your body and let this child drag you along. "I'm Amy," she says, "I wanna show you something!" You follow Amy up to the house. Then past it. Into the [[pasture]].

Through the pasture. To the edge of the pasture. To the edge of a [[woods]].

Into the woods. You've been walking for a while. Deeper into the woods. Amy's hand has not left your wrist. "Amy, where are we going?" You ask for the 23rd time. "It's just a little further." She answers for the 23rd time. You want to turn around, you want to run. But tbh Amy is a quirky, cute little bean, how can you say no to those eyes? She stops. She whistles an ear splitting whistle you wouldn't expect from a 7 year old. You [[freeze|Cookie]]

WHUMP THUMP WHUMP THUMP Out of the dusky woods meanders a beast 30 feet tall. It has sand-colored fur and charcoal spines. Long claws and a long tail. Three rows of sharp teeth protruding from its three mouths, which are stacked one on top on another. It's eyes are droopy, like you woke it from a nap. "MRRRRRRRRRRUGPH," it groans at you. Amy rushes up to this thing and clings to the fur on its monsterous leg. "This is Cookie!" She squeals. That's nice. Say [[Hello|C'mere]]? Say [[Goodbye| Get lost]]?

"Hello?" You say to the beast, staring at the drool dripping from its middle mouth. "HHHHHHhHHrmerumph" Cookie says, taking a seat with a WHUMP. "Wanna see his trick?" Amy says, scaling his leg and not waiting for an answer. She climbs like an insect up his leg, onto his back, over his head, and perches on the the bridge of his nose. His nose, which looks like a mushroom cross-section- but burnt, and big, and scary- sniffs in your general direction. "C'mere!" Amy calls. Against your better judgement, you [[c'mere| Mouth Pick]].

You smile and make some graceful exuse about needing to get home for dinner before turning on your heel and sprinting away. There you go, sprinting away. You're faster than ya look, ain't ya? One problem though. You don't have a fucking clue where you are. Keep [[walking]]? Give up and [[die|The Dark Room]]?

..and you're [[walking]]... Remember, you can always [[die|The Dark Room]]! No shame in dying! Everyone is doing it!

Cookie wags his tail as you get closer. A looooooong purple tongue rolls out of his bottom mouth and onto the forest floor. He opens his middle mouth. A large, soft, pink, human-esque tongue sits in the jaw among molars, incisors, and corkscrewed teeth. The top mouth opens only a crack, and a blood red serpantine tongue flickers out through hundreds of small fangs before retreating back inside. "Pick a mouth." Says Amy "Excuse me?" "It's part of the trick! Pick a mouth!" She insists. [[Top]] [[Middle]] [[Bottom]]

"Top?" You guess. "Cookie, TOP!" Amy commands. The serpantine tounge pokes out of his top lip. It comes out further. And further. Further. A long and winding forked tounge, thick and blood red, slithers through the air towared you. It wraps around your waist. "What is he doing?" You demand. "The trick!" She grins. Tighter. And Tighter. The tounge gets tighter around your middle. You can't breath. It lifts you off the ground, and pulls you closer. The jaw of the top mouth unhinges, wide open. You're hoisted high in the air over his head, Amy looks delighted, all three eyes sparkling. You fall into the gaping maw. The unhinged jaw snaps shut behind [[you|The Dark Room]].

"Middle?" You guess. "Cookie GO!" Amy commands. Cookie lurches toward you, middle mouth open. You turn to run, but trip over a stick. Cookie stand over you as you cower on the ground. His pink human-like tongue licks the entire length of your body. You lay flat on the [[ground]], stiff with horror.

"Bottom?" You guess. "Cookie DOWN!" Amy commands. Behind the purple tongue, Cookie's lower most jaw drops like an elevator to the ground. The tongue stays afixed to the roof of his mouth. Behind the the curtain of tongue, Cookie's mouth creates a tunnel that a full grown human man could walk into upright, with another human man on his shoulders. "Look inside." Amy implores you. "I'd rather not," you say, "best not to look a gift beast in the mouth." "He's a Ganderthatch, not a beast." "A Bandersnatch?" "No, a Ganderthatch. Bandersnatches are smaller. Also, why would I have Bandersnatch?" "Reasonable, I suppose." "Now look in his mouth! It's part of the trick!" She insists. You could try to [[run| Get lost]]. Or, if you're not a little bitch, you could [[get in his mouth.]]

Cookie wags his tail. He happily licks his lips. Your shoulders relax, maybe he's friendly? "Good boy Cookie!" Amy coos, "Now you can have a treat!" Cookie's middle mouth opens wide. Oh. You see. You are the treat. You knew you were a snack but this is too far. CHOMP. No more [[you|The Dark Room]].

You're not a little bitch. You march behind the curtain of the purple tongue and into the tunnel of Cookie's mouth. It goes on for miles inside him. You stand at the entrance. "Go in! It's neat in there!" Amy cries from above. You march forward. forward. forward. into the darkness. so much darkness. "Humans are so fucking dumb." You hear Amy say through the walls of Cookie, "Good boy Cookie, you can swallow." The walls get closer. closer. closer. SMOOSH. Get [[swallowed|The Dark Room]]

You keep walking away from the dirty vagrant. You come to a dead end. Somehow, someone has hung a painting on the hedge. [[Inspect the painting?]] or [[Turn around]]

"Thanksssssss- aHEM." He says, "Thanks." "I need you to go get someone for me. I need you to find Dr. Atwell." "Okay. Where is Dr. Atwell?" "Haven't the faintest. Maybe inside the castle? Maybe in his office in town? He moves, he's got legs-" He looks wistfully down at his legs. "Oh. Legs!" "Yes well," You say, "I suppose I can help you find them." Hey lays flat on the ground. "Grand. I'll be waiting right here for you." Great. Super helpful. "Start by going that way." He suggests, pointing to the path straight ahead. Maybe this was a bad idea. Regardless, you follow his instructions and [[Walk straight ahead|New path]]

You keep walkin' through the maze. You've pretty much accepted you're lost and are just wandering for the joy of it. It is actually quite a lovely day, and the bushes are full and green. You might actually be enjoying this maze just for the fun of a hedge maze. Left, right, left, straight, right, right, through the bush, straight, left- You whip around a corner too fast and run SMACK into a grizzled old vagrant. His eyes are lost. He looks into space like he's looking into the void. "Are you okay? Do you need help getting out?" you ask him. He slowly walks past you, but you [[listen|Old Man]] to him in the quiet.

An oil painting in an ornate gold frame. It's roughly your height, and twice as wide. It depicts a woman feeding a child. A poor woman with a desparate look feeding a rather ugly baby. Perhaps it's Mary. It's always Mary isn't it? You poke Mary. The painting ripples. The painting now depicts a farmhouse. Clouds rolling, grass growing, hay bales sitting around. [[Poke it again]]? or [[Check behind the painting]]?

You turn around. Everything changed. There's a hedge where your path used to be. Fuck. Shit. Well what now? [[Take the newly available path|New path]] or [[Start digging under the hedge|Dig]]

You follow the path ahead of you. It goes straight actually. Straight out the other side of the maze. Some Maze this turned out to be. You make your way back to the center of the [[Garden]]

You poke the painting again. It ripples. The oil painting now depicts an old church in the middle of a town square. Dirt roads lined with cobblestones. Women in dresses and petticoats, men in cloaks. [[Poke it again, again]]? Or [[Check behind the frame]]?

You pull the frame away from the hedge. You've revealed a hidden passage way. [[Enter the passage way.|Farm]]

The painting ripples to black. A sea of brush strokes in black. Not charcoal, not onyx, but black. You pull the frame away from the hedge and look behind the painting. There's a passageway. [[Enter the Hedge|The Dark Room]]

You pull the frame away from the hedge. You've revealed a hidden passage way. [[Enter the passage way.|Town Center]]

You arrive in the town center. Townsfolk bustle around you. A young woman in a sun-faded bonnet with a pink ribbon rushes up to you. "Dr.Atwell, yes?" she asks with pleading eyes. [["Yes."|Begin Dr Route]] [["No."| Not the Dr]]

A wave of relief washes over her face. "It's my son," she pleads, "he needs a doctor right away!" She takes you by the hand and leads you down a narrow cobblestone side street. She stops at the door to a sub-street apartment that smells of canned tuna the moment [[the door swings open.]]

"No!" You say, a little too forcefully. The woman jumps back "I'm sorry," she says, "You're just wearing the doctor's clothes is all." "OI!" chimes in a passing burly man, "Didja find the th' docta?" "No," replies the woman gracefully, "This is not the doctor. It's an impersonator!" "Impersonator!?" shouts a middle-aged woman with remarkably good hearing from a window on the edge of the square. "Imposter!" Shouts a man beneath her window, "Shameful!" An official looking man strides towards you, "Oi! You! Don't you know it's a crime to impersonate a doctor!" "I AM NOT AN IMPERSONATOR!" You shout. A [[crowd]] starts to form around you.

You dig with your bare hands like some kind of animal. Then you did with your bear hands like a fucking gentleman. You dig and you dig and you dig straight down. Digging out the very dirt from under your feet. Suddenly, an absence of dirt. Suddenly, it's like somone was digging UP. Welp. You can't stand on nothing. In you [[fall|Worm House]]

You fall clean through the ceiling of someone's home. And it doesn't seem you can climb back out. The walls are dirt, but theres a rug, a recliner, a kitchen table- They've even got the kettle on the stove. You note a family portrait on the wall. A family of worms it would seem. And very well dressed worms at that. "Ginny? Ginny, darling, is that you?" Comes a voice from the tunnel off the kitchen. Shit, shit, shit. Not Ginny, but breaking and entering. What do you do? [[Lie]] [[Run]] [[Explain yourself]]

He leads you into a bustling kitchen. Check out how rad and STOCKED this kitchen is! Shockingly, rich people live in this castle. But there are no rich people here. Kitchen staff lives here. The rich people will be outside, enjoying the fruits of these people's labor. There are serfs in here. They are indifferent to your presence. The cary on their work with their cold, dead eyes. The bourgeoisie have broken their spirits. Haunting. As boy toy the bard pulls you through the maze of baking trays, stained aprons, and sizzling pans, you realize you don't ever know his name. Wait a second, do you even know YOUR name? Suppose names aren't important then. He pulls you out the [[servants entrance]].

He leads you into an wide alleyway under under a clear sky. A castle guard here, a souless kitchen worker there, delivery people both here and there. He tosses you playful glances as he leads you by the hand quickly through the hand carts and carriages. He stops behind a wagon full of hay. He lifts you by your waist up onto the wagon before hoping up next to you. "54 Treacle road, if you please!" He calls out. The horse pulling the wagon swings his head around, "Hey man, you're off early." "Otis! Good to see you." "You too. Sit tight." Otis lurches forward, pulling the wagon with him. You lose your balance and fall [[into the hay]].

You stare deeply into in the bards eyes. As his tender lips meet yours, he gently lowers himself into you. The smallest gasp escapes the corner of your mouth. And you fuck. Every pulsation of your hips together creates galaxies colliding behind your eyes. fuck His touch is electric, lightning, not static. Static means nothing to the gravitational pull of this heavenly body to yours. His lips on your neck, his moaning in your ear. fuck. His fingers, tracing down your side, leave a ripple of prickling flesh. His hand between your legs commands your breath better than oxygen itself. Fuck. Here underneath him, you feel everything in paradox. Safe yet thrilled, rebellious yet natural- you're someone new, yet you've never been more yourself. He grabs your hips and pulls you closer, deeper. Fuck! And with eyes rolled back and mouth wide open, you're ecstatically consumed by [[the little death|The Dark Room]].

(Sexual content ahead, your consent matters.) [[I'm ready!|The Little Death]] [[NOPE kill me now please.|The Dark Room]]

He remove the last of his clothes and you wriggle out of your underthings. As he climbs onto you, his body is warm against your bare skin. His kisses down your neck, you run your fingers through his hair. He draws back and you stare into his soft, inviting eyes. "Are you ready?" He asks. [[Yes.|Reader consent]] No, [[Actually...|Sexual rejection]]

"Actually," you say, "We've only just met, and I sort of promised myself I wouldn't fuck another bard with a lute, it went very poorly the last time." You pick your garment up off the floor, awkwardly hop back into it, and hustle toward the door. "I don't mind. You can still stay for a cup of tea if you'd like?" The bard says, laying across the bed. "No, I really think I better be going." "Then I hope I'll see you again." He smiles. You smile back at him, the slightest blush in your cheeks. As you walk out the door, you hear him sing to himself. You continue out into the [[Town Center]].

You thrash around in the hay. You're lost in the hay, dizzied and directionless. The bard slides in next to you. "There you are!" He says, "Get a bit lost?" You super did, but you don't want to admit it. "Don't worry about it," he reassures you, "happens to the best of us." "Nearly there!" whinnies Otis. "Come then," your man says, taking your hand once more, "Out we get." Down, down, down, down, deeper into the hay until [[pop|bard's front door]]!

Your heads pop out of the top of the hay pile and you've arrived outside a charming 15th century duplex with chipped paint on a residental street. The bard hops out and helps you down onto the cobblestones. "Thank Otis!" he calls. "Don't mention it. See you around." Otis calls, clip-clopping off down the road. Your new beau gestures toward the house, "Care for a cuppa tea?" Naturally, you reply... [[Tea sound lovely!]] [[Thanks for the ride but I really oughta be going.]]

"Wonderful, I'll put the kettle on!" He marches up the stairs, you follow, because what else would you do. His home is uh... shabby chic? Yeah, that's the nice way to put it. Ecelctic artwork on every surface and every wall. Pink walls here, green walls there, some sort of dated wallpaper in the corner. That's almost impressive, to have dated ANYTHING in the 15th century. Anyway, it's clean at least. You notice the bed in the corner is made so nicely your grandmother would be impressed. "Earl grey alright?" he asks. "Fine." You say. "You can sit on it if you'd like." He gestures to the bed. He 100% caught you staring at his bed, smooth moves slut. Now he thinks you're only here to fuck him. [[...]]

"Oh I see. Well, I hope to see you another time then." You awkwardly nod and hury past him into [[town|Town Center]] . You hear his heart break behind you.

Kind eyes, beautiful love song directed at you, ideal physique, gentle but firm touch, sense of humor, entrancing smile, and he's making you tea? Oh. Maybe you are [[here]] to fuck him?

Right well, get to flirting with him then. What's your plan, ambiguously gendered Romeo? [[Sit on the bed]] all sexy like? Walk up behind him and [[touch him]] gently? Say "[[Hey wanna bone?]]"

You sit on the bed all sexy-like. Paint-me-like-one-of-your-french-girls style. You remove an article of clothing, dealers choice. He doesn't notice. He walks over with two cups of tea and puts them on the bedside table. "They're still too hot," he says taking a seat next to you. "Pity," you say. "Whatever can we do in the meantime?" He asks with a smirk. Maybe he did notice? "What indeed?" He leans in for a kiss. You return the favor. He pushes you back onto the [[bed]].

You walk up behind him and gently place your hand on his shoulder. "Hmm?" He asks. As he turns to face you, you slowly lower your hand onto his hips. He smiles with a blush, "I thought we might at least have some tea first. But if you insist..." He gestures toward the [[bed]].

"Hey wanna bone?" You say flatly. He fumbles with the tea, knocking over some cups and cutlery on the counter. "Uhhhhhh..." he says. 'Shit. Shit. Fuck. Too forward' you think. But before you can show yourself out, he laughs a little laugh. And tosses you a pretty smile. "I thought we'd have some tea first, but yes, I'd like that." You gesture to the [[bed]].

He pushes you back onto the bed. Clothes come off. Unclear whose. Hands explore, teeth nip, breath shakes, and in the moments they can be pulled from eachother, lips whisper sweet nothings into the ether of this lush [[world of two.|Foreplay]]

Lie, yes, a lie. But what lie? You can't lie fast enough. Out of the tunnel wriggles a worm as big as you are. He's wearing spectacles, a baby-blue tie, and a bowler hat. He does not look pleased to see you, he demands, "Who are you?" "I'm, uhhh," you spy a medical texbook on the coffee table, "Doctor uh--" "Oh! Are you that Dr. Atwell person I keep hearing about?" That's a good lie. "Yes! That is me!" You say, super lying. "Splendid, I hear you're in high demand. What brings you into my living room?" You consider telling the truth about falling through the ceiling, but in for a penny, in for a pound. "I'm looking for.... [[a patient."]] [[an aprentice."]] [[you."]]

You take off running down the [[opposite tunnel.]]

"No, not Ginny," you say cautiously, "I'm dreadfully sorry, I'm quite lost, and I didn't mean to come in without knocking, I just. The floor- ceiling- it depends- it broke-" Out of the tunnel wriggles a worm as big as you are, wearing spectacles, a baby-blue tie, and a bowler hat. "Oh! No, no, no, I'm terribly sorry! We've been meaning to patch that roof for months! Sorry for the trouble, can I get you a cuppa tea? The kettle's already on- then I'll take you back up to the surface." This man's kindness is refreshing. "[[Tea]] sounds lovely."

Welp, that's a [[Dead End|The Dark Room]] .....Get it? DEAD end! Ha! Anyway, try again.

"Lovely, is English Breakfast 'right for you?" You nod and he pours you each a delicate little teacup of English Breakfast tea. You learn his name is Livingston. You sit around his little table and sip a perfect cup of tea. He doesn't get many visitors. Friends don't come 'round much as they used to. He tells you about his family in the portrait. His daughter, Ginny, recently moved back home from university. She graduated top of her class, pre-med. His wife, Elizabeth, left him some time ago. Their youngest went with her, a boy named Wesley. They don't speak much. He doesn't learn as much about you. It's nice to just sit and listen now and then, isn't it? You finish your tea. "Oh my, is that the time? I oughta be letting you go. Right this way!" He leads you down the [[tunnel past the kitchen.]]

Livingston leads you down a shockingly well lit tunnel. "Sorry it's a bit of a walk," he says, "I mostly only go to work and back nowadays, so my front door is practically across the way from my office." "Oh? Where do you work? "Ewan's farm." "Oh, suppose that makes sense. Turning the soil, getting air and nutrients to the crops- Perfect job for a worm really." Livingston goes queit. He avoids eye contact. "I'm their bookeeper actually, I've worked in accounting for 30 years." Shit, did you just make this worm experience a micro-agression? You start, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed-" "No, you shouldn't. Crop labor is good, noble, hardwork, but worms have been trying for decades for equal employment opportunities, and we can't progess if humans keep assuming crop work is the only thing we're capable of. Just look at my daughter, a brilliant youg worm..." He goes on, but it all just sounds like a reminder that you're a [[worm-racist.| End of Dirt Tunnel]]

"I hope I've changed your attitude a little bit," Livingston concludes, "Not all worms are field hands. Naturally, we don't even have hands! Ha! That's a little worm humor. But seriously, I appreciate you listening, and I hope you'll be a worm ally in the future." You will be, just for Livingston. He pushes open a little, round, wooden door at the end of the tunnel and sunlight rushes in. "Here we are," Livingston says, leading you out onto the dirt road, "If you continue on that way down the road, you'll get into [[town|Town Center]], That way will take you back to the [[castle|The Walk]], and, well, you can see Ewan's [[Farm]]." You thank Livingston for his hospitality, and start on your merry way.

After strolling down the road for sometime, always seeing the castle in the distance. It never seems to get closer. You walk. and walk. and walk. and walk. The sun starts to set. And you walk. Like a hamster in a wheel. you walk. you walk. you walk. The castle gets no closer. Your legs are fatigued. You are fatigued. You fall to your knees. You crawl. you crawl. you crawl. The castle gets no closer. Yet Livingston's door is miles behind you. Darkness sets around you. You [[Collapse|The Dark Room]]. The world goes dark.

"Dr. Atwell," Booms the driver, "Will you be needing a stop at your offices first, or just straight into town?" You clear your throat before stating in your most Official sounding voice, "[[Straight to town]], please" "[[Office| Outside Atwell's Office]] first, please"

"Splendid." He says gravely. Into town you go. You gently bump along the dirt road until you hit cobblestones, at which point you bump along more aggressively. You stretch out on the velvet seat. This is cozier than your bed. You can hear the driver singing to himself. It's familiar. You've heard it before, but you couldn't say where. You don't know the words, and you can't predict the melody, but you know this song. Now that it's in your ear you know it will never leave you. But it will never be fully with you either. You'll chase it like a fly in your peripheral vision, as soon as you look, you'll see nothing. You will go on knowing that this song is significant to you, but never why. You couldn't recreate it if you wanted to. Man, aren't you glad we have aux cords now? Spotify and all that? Nice. The carriage halts. "[[Town Center]], sir." Booms the footman, opening the door. You step out of the carriage in the middle of the square.

The footman watches you as you stare up the building. You probably better do what you said you'd do. You walk up to the door and nod back to the footman as you turn the door handle and let yourself in. Your office. Totally your office. Act like you're supposed to be here. You hear the carriage leave as the door squeaks closed behind you. You stand in a [[hell of a foyer.]]

...a patient!" You say faking frantic-ness. "What?" Says the worm. "A patient!" You exclaim, "There's a little boy in need of immediate medical attention! I'm looking for the little boy! Where is the little boy!?" "I don't have any idea! There is no little boy here!" "No! I have the wrong home!" "I'm so sorry! Here, here, let me help you out! The ceiling is faster than the door you know, and it looks like it's caved in again, so it's your lucky day!" The worm starts stacking furniture under the hole YOU made in his ceiling. You follow his lead until the furniture stack reaches the ceiling. You climb that stack like the lizard you never knew you were. "Good luck!" Shouts the worm from below you as you [[climb out|New path]] of the hole.

"An apprentice. A lad in the castle said I should come looking down here." Brilliant, there was no lad in the castle. "Oh! Grand, good, must've been Renley in the kitchen, fine lad. Always keeping an eye out for us." Oh? The worm continues, "My name is Livingston. My daughter, Ginny, you see," he nods to the family portrait, "is a medical student at university and she's terribly, terribly bright, but she's up against quite a stigma. 'Worms are dirty' they say, 'worms can't be doctors' they say- for heavens sake, we're familiar with germ theory. Anyway, she's been having a time and a half securing an apprenticeship, do you suppose you could take her under your wing?" Uhhhh.... still not the doctor. "Of course!" You say with no regard for consequence. "Splendid, splendid!" He wiggles gleefully. "She'll be here within the hour if you'd like to meet her now." "Uhhh. I have a patient to get to immediately. Send her to my office later, just after dinner tonight." "Absolutely! Thank you!" "Splendid, would you kindly point me toward the door?" "Oh yes, yes, I'll show you out!" He leads you down the [[tunnel past the kitchen.]]

..you." You finish. "Me? What are you looking for me for?" "I have your test results." "What test results? I don't remember taking any tests." "A memory test, sir. And the results are grim." "Oh dear, a memory test I can't even recall taking. A grim diagnosis indeed." "Indeed, but not to worry sir, there is a treatment for memory loss." "Really? Pray tell." "More sunlight, several hours a day, take some fish oil every morning, and eat rutabagas three times a week." "Hmm. Thank you, I'll remember that." "No you won't." "Heavens me! No I won't! I'll write it down immediaitely." As the worm scrambles around looking for a pen and paper, you look down the hallway he came down. You ask him, "That's all sir, if you have further questions please write to my assistant. Is the door this way?" "Yes, thank you!" He says scrambling to write things down, "Straight down that hallway, door at the end. Thank you for making a personal visit!" "Of course sir, best of luck." And you power walk down that [[tunnel]] like the lying bastard you are.

You walk and walk and walk and walk and walk. Jesus H Christ, this is a long tunnel. Eventually, you push open a little, round, wooden door at the end of the tunnel and sunlight rushes in. Straight ahead of you is a little [[Farm]]. You can see the castle you woke up in the distance, you could take a long [[walk there|The Walk]] if you'd like. Or you could walk the other way down this little dirt road just to [[see where it goes|Town Center]].

"Very well. Yah!" Bellows the driver. The carriage lurches forward. You watch the world go by outside the window of the carriage. You pass a farm, some woodlands, and a little stream before you see the city limits of a small town. The driver hums to himself, a song you've never heard. Goddamn, is it possible to hum notes that low? Into town you go. Bumping along down the dirt road until you hit cobblestones, at which point you bump along more aggressively. You're pulled through the narrow avenues of town before stopping outside a lovely Victorian-style...town home? Office space? Could be either, architects think they're so clever. The roof is well-worn with gingerbread trim and the paint is a dusty indigo. Must be Dr. Atwell's office. [[Get out of the Carriage|Atwell's Office]]

"You look like an impersonator to me," replies the official looking man, "You oughta be careful, you're not even a GOOD imposter! You could hurt someone!" You plead and protest, "But I am NOT an imposter! I'm not a doctor and I have never claimed to be one!" "Fake! Liar!" shouts the burly man. "Shame! Shame!" cries an elderly nun from the crowd. "Boo, you suck!" shouts some punk kid to your left. "Get 'em outta town!" demands the woman up in the window. The crowd rumbles in agreement. They all advance toward you. They don't seem like the most reasonable bunch. The offical looking man grabs your wrist. It really [[hurts.]] ACAB includes this chucklefuck.

The official looking man pulls your wrist one way, "We take the imposter to the jail!" The burly man grabs your other wrist and pulls you away, "No! Take 'em to the lake and try 'em fer witch craft!" The elderly nun hooks her cane around your ankle and pulls you off your feet. She grabs you by your ankle as you stumble and pulls you a different direction, "No! We must take this heathen to repent! Up Mount Sinai! Or at least the big hill outside town!" The punk kid grabs your ankle. He's way too strong for a 9 year old. He declares, "Or we just execute the liar right here!" The crowd decends into dissatisfied brouhaha. Hands are laid all over you, grabbing at anything they can get a handful off. They pull you this way and that way, and that way and this way- from stem to stern, south to north, soup to nuts. Fucking [[OW!]]

With a rip and a tear and crack and a squelch and finally a fleshy THUD. [[You are ripped apart by an angry mob.|The Dark Room]]

It' so Very Purple. Rugs, artwork, light fixtrues, furniture, and wall paper with the same Damask print as the carriage. This Atwell character certainly has an aesthetic. There's an open doorway immediately to your left that leads into a [[study]]. There's also a narrow hall ahead of you that leads to a [[closed lavender door|Broom Closet]]. Where to?

"Hello?" You call into the study as you step inside. No response. Hell yeah, let's [[get nosy.]]

You creep down the hallway over squeaky wooden floors. Or maybe you don't- maybe you run at a full tilt sprint, up to you my dude, they're your legs. You turn the handle on the door-- Unlocked! You open the door cautiously. It's a broom closet. You step inside to inspect the contents-- that sure is a broom. The door falls shut behind you. You turn the handle-- Locked. Shit. You found the [[broom closet ending|The Dark Room]] you fuckin' nerd, way to go.

You raise the sword toward the sky, a sharp inhale of crisp autumn air fills your lungs, and all of a sudden- You're hit with a barrage of unfamailiar memories. They appear to you as past lives, past deaths. They're you, but not you. Like lightning they rush through you. Blood thunders through your brain as your heart throbs in your throat. The electricity fires through your nervous system in an instant. Memories flash like photographs, silent-- except for your agonizing screams. A farm, a monster. Have you been here before? A woman, a needle. Have you met? A man, a warm touch. Did you lose him? A village, a mob. Will anyone remember you once you've forgotten them? They go on and on and on and on. You've lived a thousand lives and they all ended too fast. You were dropped back at the start countless times, forced to run like a hamster on a wheel, without any hope of truly advancing. The memories come to a screaching halt as you collapse in a heap on the fallen leaves and your mind goes dark. Very dark. Like [[a dark room]]

You wake up in a dark room. Find [[a Light Switch]] or [[the Door Knob]]

[[...no.]]

This isn't right. You remember. You've been here before. "Not again," you think, "No more!" You're upset, I can tell. But there's no need to be upset. [[Let's talk about this.]]

I know you're unhappy, but there's no need for that kind of language. You should really be thanking me, I've practically made you immortal. You're welcome. [[...What do you have?]]

Oh. You've kept the sword. That's not //strictly// allowed, but I'll make a note of it. A bug in the route we can fix later. Thank you for your [[sacrafice.]]

...Do you hear me? Like out loud? Do you hear me? Not just in your head? [[ Y̴͖͕̾̆̀́͜E̴̜̜̓S̷̖̞̫̥̿̋̾͛͝ ]]

Oh. That's new. You have a hell of a look in your eye. Do you see me? [[ Į̸̏̚͜͝ ̸̞͉̟̮͆̎̎͝͝ ̷͓̄͐̓̈S̷̙̎̄̒̃ȩ̷̺̪̝̀̇͜͠ȇ̷͈̔̃̀͜ ̴̤̰̲́̉͜Ý̴̨̻͚̱͒͗ͅo̴̘̜͔̿̒̾̉u̴̫͈̻̬̅͋̀ ]]

Oh. Wait wait, you stay right over there, please. Would you kindly put the sword down? No? We can work through this! What do you want? Creative control? We can share! No! Please! [[Have Mercy!]]

̸̨̑N̸̛̹͗o̸̘̞͒.̵̧̕.̵̦͑.̵̹̈́ ̶͈̆̓I̸̺͂ ̸̺̽h̸̺̓̈a̴̫̜͗v̴͖̯̇e̴͔̓ ̸͙͆d̸̜̫̃i̷̺͐͘e̶̢̾d̷̢̧͝ ̵̰̈́ä̷̙́̈́ ̸̠͝t̷͕̿ȟ̶͓̃o̴̼͋̕ṷ̵̻́̏s̵̨̛â̷̪͔̐n̶͓̪̾d̷͔̔͐ ̶̙̿̚d̶̫͈̊ę̸̒a̴̧͂̔t̶̩͝ͅh̷̺̅s̵̤̀ ̷̤͍̕a̵̡̲͑t̴͔̅ ̷̧͓̀y̸̝͆ơ̸̢̞̿ǘ̷̧r̶͇͒ ̴̹̉͆h̵̙͓̄a̸͖̞̚ǹ̶͌ͅḏ̸̢͋ ,̵̜͗̀ ̴̭̙̔̕n̶̡̽o̸̳̪̿w̶̞̝̏̀ ̵̝̟̏y̵̠͗ő̸̺ų̷̑̈ ̸̘̽d̵̥̦͊́ã̴̮r̴̦̋e̴̯̪̓ ̵̭͑b̴͈̄e̴͙͗͑ġ̷͕͘ ̴̮̊m̵̰͠e̸̘͇̊͗r̶̻͈̈́́ć̵̯͘y̶͈̼̅ ̶̘̐f̵̱͑̂r̶̨̖̅͂o̸̹̣̅̾m̷͕̑ ̴̟̇m̵͍̃̈́e̷̗̭͠͠?̸͓̺͊͠ ̸̧̂͛ ̵͎́̉ ̸̘̰͐ ̵̨̃͘N̵̮̦͐o̴͔̽.̸̥̩̐̚ ̴̦͌G̶̢̿o̷͂͜ ̷̻͌ţ̵́̒ò̵̼̭́ ̴͚̏̔ͅh̴̠̩̀e̵̼̞͋̉l̸̯̏͌l̷̬͉̒̔.̴̀ͅ ̴ You raise your sword and swing at m- [[......|Silence]]

A̷ ̷s̷a̶t̸i̶s̵f̶a̴c̶t̷o̶r̸y̸ ̷[[d̷e̸a̶t̵h̵ ̸o̷f̸ ̴t̶h̷e̷ ̴a̴u̵t̶h̷o̵r̶.̴]]

[[.......]]

[[........................]]

....Hello? Oh God! Professor Atwell! What happened!? Oh God, oh dear God why? Okay, Okay. Keep it together, Katie. I'm gonna call an ambulance. No! I'll reboot the sim! Wait right here. What am I saying? Where else could you- God they need to start paying us interns, this is too much. Maybe I'll just [[unplug it and plug it back in again? |The Dark Room]]

Past the tattered curtain, you find a small, dusty bedroom. A paltry beam of sunlight strains through small, dirty window near the ceiling. The weak light lands on a small boy sitting upright in small bed. A metal boy. A skeletal boy. An expressionless boy. He slowly turns to look at you with glass eyes. His metal jaw drops down and sound comes out, "Are you going to fix me?" You look at the man, the young father, he doesn't return your glance. You look at the woman, the young mother, she hold back tears. You step closer to the boy. You clear your throat and commit to your goddamn bit, [["I'll see what I can do."]]

You kneel down next to the bed. "What's your name?" you ask the metal boy. "Thomas." he says. "What ails you, Thomas?" "I can not power down. I have been unplugged, yet my consciousness remains." "Troubling indeed," you say, pretending to understand. "We've tried to switch him off," pipes up Dad from the doorway, "We had the mechanic give him a lever on his neck to allow him to power down, but it doesn't work." [[Inspect the lever]]

This place is a meddling kids' dream. Papers everywhere, pictures on every surface, walls coated from floor to ceiling, big book shelves, nooks and crannies abound! A hot mess teeming with information. Where do you want to inspect? [[Desk]] [[Bookshelf]] [[Piles on the Ground]] [[Photos on the Wall]]

Papers fuckin' everywhere. Has this medical professional ever heard of a binder? A folder? A paperclip, even? Some of this has patients personal medical data on it. Mr. Redford's blood pressure is astronomical! Mrs. Bradley is pregnant again, but Mr.Bradley is most definitely not the father. Juicy. There's a leather day planner. If you open to today, you see the doctor has an appointment in a half an hour. Ooh, and a poker game this evening. Well, if you want to keep playing doctor, the address is right there, you could go [[take the appointment.]] Or you could leave well enough alone, and [[keep looking around the study|get nosy.]] You could even look in the [[desk drawers.]]

You run your fingers over the spines of the books. Some are old and well worn, some have never been read and are likely just here for show. There are assorted knick-knacks across the shelves, kitsch of bygone eras. A small bust of Hippocrates, bookends scultped into gargoyles, a horn made of a horn, a magnifying glass with a tortoise shell handle, some lace doilies, and a porcelain sculpture of an angel. The little angel compels you with it's doe-eyed upward gaze. You reach out and delicately wrap your hand around it. As you try to lift it, it does not move. [[Tug on it?]] or leave well enough alone and [[Look elsewhere|get nosy.]]?

There's a pile of books waiting to be re-shelved. Well known titles such as //Robotics for Dummies//, //Unlearning Horticultural Labor Bias// by Wilma P. Wormsworth, //An Ethical Comparison of The Human Heart and The Microchip// and //An Unethical Comparison of The Human Brain and The Core Processor// both by Hugo Vanderwirth, and //The Furture of Medicine in the Industrial Age// by Robert D. Atwell. Atwell, eh? Perhaps answers are inside? Nope, wrong Atwell. The inside cover details Robert Atwell's passing some 30 years ago. Must be a relative. The back cover shows a rather old, surly man staring into the middle distance. Also, the first thing you see on the next pile is a lacey purple bra. No shade at Rob, he could wear a bra if it suits him, but he doesn't look the type- it's not in his size anyway. The pile of clothes topped with a purple bra also contains some black trousers, some small mens boxers, a black cloak, A white button down, and exactly one polka dotted sock. It all sorta smells like dirty clothes. There are scuff marks all over the floor. Oh neat, there's a plague doctor bird mask next to the chair! So That's on your face now. Lookin' good, now [[Keep looking|get nosy.]].

There are some diplomas and certifications on the wall. This Doctor is certainly legit. Graduated Summa Cum Somethin from some university that sounds important. The pictures are mostly of professionals in lab coats, or in plague doctor masks. Either way, doesn't seem like one person appears more than anyone else. Guess that's fair, most people don't put their own face in their office. There's a picture of a baby, unclear whose. There's a picture of five men and a woman, all in lab coats, posing around an automaton. The humans smile, the robot stares blankly into the camera. There are two anatomically correct paintings of nude men and women. Tastfully done, of course. There's a framed newspaper headline from what sounds like a local paper. "New Doctor Comes to Town, A Blessing in Black." Sounds like Dr. Atwell is a big deal around here. [[Satisfied?|get nosy.]]

Dope, let's do it. You take the agenda and head back out of the study, out of the house, and start [[meandering down cobblestone paths|Town Center]].

You tug on the angel, slowly and then all at once. It leans forward, metal curved underneath it. Oh, a lever! The bookcase creeeeeaaaaaakkkkks forward as it opens into a doorway to a cellar staircase. It's dark and cobweb-y. Wanna [[investigate further]]? [[Nah, I don't trust like that.|get nosy.]]

You find breath mints, a nude magazine, hand sanitzer, some rubber bands, a deconstructed pen, a Nintendo Gameboy, and a bulb of garlic. Standard desk drawer fare. [[Take anything?]]

You take what you covet- (It was the GameBoy, wasn't it? Predictable nerd)- and continue to [[look around the room.|get nosy.]]

You grab the tortoise shell magnifying glass and a conveniently located oil lamp and head down the staircase. The staircase leads down into a concrete tunnel. Like //Parasite// but worse. It's damp and dark and seems to go on for ages. You keep walking. You come to a fork in the path. And a spoon. [[Go left]] [[Go Right]] [[Go Spoon]]

Always go left. Left is a good choice. Left has both logic and soul. Don't be a disgrace to the legacy of RBG. Vote Blue, call your senators, be an active participant in your democracy. Fuck Donald Trump, may he rot in hell for his crimes against humanity. You [[walk faster|Forward]], empowered by the spirit of socital progress.

What, just because it's on the right side, it's the right answer? Middle School Logic. Whatever, you [[walk on.|Forward]]

You pick up a white plastic spoon in between the two tunnels. Way to pick up litter, the environment thanks you! Before you pick it up, you spin the spoon like a beyblade. You [[walk down whichever tunnel it points to.|Forward]]

As you walk, the tunnel gets narrower. The ground starts to slope up. Hey, did you close the door behind you? [[Yuh|Ladder]] [[Nope|Ladder]]

Proud of you. Finally, when the walls have met your shoulders and your head has met the ceiling, just when you think the tunnel is going to dead-end, you come to a ladder and a hole that goes straight up. [[No where to go but up.]]

You climb up the ladder, careful not to burn yourself on your lamp. You climb for an hour. You reach a manhole cover above your head. A little bit of sunlight trickles through. You need to free your hands to push the cover up. You try and fail to balance your lamp on the rung at your chest. As you push the cover up, the lamp falls from the ladder and down, down, down. The lamp whistles as it falls, and shatters as it lands. Because it was a Fucking Oil Lamp, it creates a fire at the bottom of the ladder. Nice work, dip shit. So with flames slowly inching up the ladder, you push that manhole cover with all your strength. You manage to get it far enough to the side to shimy out and collapse onto the moss around you. [[You escaped death!]]

For now. [[Anyway!]]

You now find yourself atop a very small mountain or a very large hill. You're surrounded by oak trees that are beginning to turn orange and drop their leaves. The smell of autumn fills your lungs as you take in the view of the distant town. This is peaceful. You take a [[meandering stroll]] through the grove of oak trees.

As you meander through the foliage, the crisp leaves make a satisfying crunch beneath the soles of your boots. A squirrel scampers by with a green acorn. A brown bird hops over tree roots. Sunlight drips through the canopy over your head and speckles the mossy ground. The sunlight catches on something shiny burried under moss, soil, and leaves a few feet ahead of you. You can [[go see what it is,]] if you really want. Or you can [[walk back toward town.]]

You wander toward the shimmer on the ground and brush away the foliage. It's sword. It's lodged in a stump, a low, mostly rotted stump obscured by fallen leaves. Its hilt is beautiful, carved by a master craftsman. You trace your fingers across the weaving, swirling metalwork and a prickle raises on the back of your neck. Your skin tingles, electric. Or you could [[walk back toward town.]] ..................[[pull the sword out?|The Sword]]

Good choice my dear, curiousity killed the cat, you know. You carry on your lovely, peaceful, meandering stroll down the hill and through the country side. You pass a quaint farm with fluffy sheep and playing children. You can [[stop here|Farm]] to rest a bit, or you can continue into [[town|Town Center]].

"Oh, thank heaven!" exclaims a young, disheveled man who rushes to greet you at the door. The woman shuts the front door and follows behind you. The disheveled man pulls you in with a firm handshake and leads you back to a tattered crimson curtain hanging in a door frame. The young man shakes his head, "He's not doing well, Doctor, I'm glad you're here but I fear..." He purses his lips and looks aside. He pushes the curtain aside and gestures you [[inside| Past the curtian]].

Silence...[[.....]]

You stand and check the back of his neck. That is a light switch. You flick it on and his eyes light up. You flick it off and his eyes extinguish. On, light. Off, dark. On, Off, On, Off. Off? "Still not powered down, doctor." Thomas says, indifferent to your lever-based harassment. "So I see." you say. "He's been on for weeks," says mom, "he's never been on for that long. His body shouldn't be able to take it. We're so worried he'll short circuit any day now- and- and- we'll loooooooosssseeeee hiii-iii--iiimmmm!" With sobs increasing, mom excuses herself to the hall. Thomas stares straight ahead. He stares into a [[rust-framed mirror]].

You look at your face reflected next to his in the mirror. You sit on edge of the bed beside him. "Thomas," you start, looking into the reflection of his eyes, "what do you see?" "I see us, the bed, the wall behind us-" You interject, "you see us?" "Yes." "You see yourself?" "Yes." "What do you look like?" "Silver with no hair and yellow eyes," he replies. You nod, solemnly stand, and [[face his father.]]

"It's worse that I thought," you start, "he can not power down because he has achieved unmitigated sentience. He's practically a real boy." Dad purses his lips, "Can you treat it?" "No, I'm afraid the condition of being human is only curable by death." Mom rushes back into the room, "Not the Human Condition!" "Yes ma'am, I'm afraid so. Only death itself can end the suffering of the Human Condition." You sit back on the edge of Thomas's bed. What do you say to him? [[Something Wise]] [[Something Funny]] [[Something Soul-Crushing]]

You look him in the eye. "Thomas," you say, "a wise man once said something about greatness-- being born into it or having it thrust upon you-- and you happen to have achieved both. Because you have now been fully born, you have acheieved unmistakable humanity, and the circumstances of your birth have made you an unwitting pioneer of human life itself. The moment you were born, your destiny of scientic acheivement was set in motion. That's a lot for a kid to handle. That's a lot for anyone to handle. But remember, no matter how many anxieties and detriments the Human Condition presents you, you can always demand beauty from it. You now have an open invitation to love and laughter and music and nature and free thought and creativity and compassion and inspiration and curiosity-- demand these things from your condition. and for the love of God, get a therapist." You [[stand.]]

You look him in the eyes, "But don't fret, kiddo. Tons of people suffer from the Human Condition every day, and MOST of them don't wanna die ALL the time!" He ponders this for a moment before looking back at you. He says, "You're not very funny. But your diagnosis was adaquate and your mild reassurance is appreciated. You are a satisfactory doctor. Thank you for your services, please leave my bedroom." He faces the mirror again. You and his parents [[return to the hallway.]]

You look him in the eye and say, "Remember Thomas, you're mostly human now, but you'll never be truly human. You will experience none of the good things, like cake, bubble baths, or the feeling of skin against skin. But you will experience all of the worst parts, like constant awareness of current events, insomnia, and the mortifying ordeal of being known. You will inevitably be known as 'the metal man,' or some such epithet, but your fame will not bring you satisfaction. You will be nothing but a wonder for them to gawk at, and no matter what you accomlish, you will have to fight everyday for a modicum of respect. You will be too machine for a human to love, and too human not to feel the pain of loss. I pity you, child." He stares back into your eyes and [[says,]]

"I do not fear death..... ...do you?" He extends his hand. [[Take it.]]

And your hand closes around his, your nervous system spasms. A strong current rushes from his hand with a jolt into your system. Electricity courses through your veins until your brain is fried. The last thing you see is a pair of yellow eyes looking into your soul. You are [[electrocuted|The Dark Room]] by the metal boy.

"But will he be okay?" asks Mom in a hushed tone. "Will any of us REALLY be okay?" You reply, "There's no telling how long he may live, just as there is no telling how long you or I may live. Entropy is a bitch." They contemplate this with anxious faces, but slowly nod. Damn, you're good at this. Are you a shitty doctor or a bang-up liar? The world may never know. You said some smart shit, good on you. "Thank you for your time, Doctor. Let me get your pay." says dad walking into the small kitchen of this tiny subterraininan apartment. [["Ah yes, my check."|Take the Money]] [["No, no, that's not necessary."|Reject the Money]]

"Thank you," Thomas says, "I feel much better now. I....feel, now. perhaps I can rest now in order to prevent my circuits from burning out." He flips off the switch on the back of his neck. In one swift motion he flops his metal frame down on the bed. Mom and dad usher you back [[out to the hall.|return to the hallway.]]

You greedy, capitalist, opportunist fuck. Is it not clear that these people are POOR? You're not even a real doctor, you made up every last thing you just said! This would be robbery! A con! Robin-hooding the rich for the good of the community is fine, but ACTIVELY taking money from the poor? Get Fucked. You may have these nice, young, parents fooled, but GOD saw what you did. And God has sealed your fate. There is only one death suitable for you, you [[greedy bastard...]]

"No, no, I can not accept-" Mom protests, "But you came on such short notice-" "No, really," You insist, because again, you're not a real fucking doctor, "I can't take this. Save it, starts a school fund for Thomas." "A school fund?" asks Dad cautiously, "You mean it? You think he'll be able to go to school like a regular child?" You start to make your way to the front door, "Like a regular child! Probably." Mom and Dad embrace, misty-eyed. Good work, fake doctor. Just as you lay your hand on the door knob, there's a [[knock at the door]] from outside.

The Guillotine. The basket is set, the blade goes up, the crowd cheers, gravity has her say, and SHWING- [[Au Revoir|The Dark Room]]

Before you have time to consider your options, much less make some kind of arbitrary choice about them, a voice comes through the door. "Royal Guard, official business." Shit, is impersonating a doctor a crime? Oh shit, it's so a crime. You back away from the door. But Dad brushes past you and [[opens the door]].

On the threadbare doormat stands a knight in shining armour. He has his visor down like he's about to joust, but he holds a staff with a royal flag instead of a lance. It all seems a bit excessive really, this errand could've been done in slacks, and all that metal must be toasty af. "Is the doctor in?" Asks the knight. Dad nods, "Yes, yes, you just caught him!" "FABULOUS!" says the knight, inviting himself in, "I've been looking all over town. The doctor's services are required at the castle. You! Come with me at once!" And with that he turns and walks away, without waiting to see if you're following behind. The confidence on this man is Astonishing. Well, no use sticking around here anymore. [[Follow the Knight]]

You follow the knight out the door and down the cobblestone side street. People look at you. Stare at you. All of them. Every eye in the town is silently on you. Judging you. Criticizing you. Questioning you. Expecting more from you. Where can you stare but your shoes? Do you [[feel their eyes on you?]]

"WHAT A LOVELY DAY!" Exclaims the knight, "Don't you just love the changing of the seasons, the smell of the air, the birds singing in the trees-- Ah! Love it!" Soon, you pass the bustling center of town and the crowds disperses. He excitedly leaps into the air and breaks into a jaunty skip from here to the edge of town. Clang-Cree-eak! Clang-Cree-eak! Clang-Cree-eak! Clang-Cree-eak! What a sunshiney knight, practically frollicking on cobblestones. You stop at the very [[edge of town]].

HEY you super rad player of my game! This route is still under construction, but I'm gonna level with you dude: just like every other route, you inevitably end up [[dead|The Dark Room]]! Check back later to find out how you died this time!

The knight bends down to your eye-level. He lifts his visor to look in your eyes. He has lovely eyes, like warm caramel on a crisp autumn day. He says tenderly, "If you'd like to walk sir, of course you may, but would you pefer a ride back to the castle?" [["Ride sounds good."]] [["It's a nice day for a walk."]]

"Oh yes Doctor!" he says with glee. And before you know it, your knight in shining armour has scooped you up into his arms and slung you onto his back. Ah. He meant piggy-back. Clang-clank, Clang-clank, Clang-clank- You knight hustles along the [[dirt footpath.]] It might've been faster to walk, but he seems so happy to be helpful!

"Very well, Doctor." he seems disappointed, but nevertheless, he leads you down the dirt footpath. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ...Goodness this has been a long walk. Your knight has slowed down. ...........He does know which way he's going, [[right?]]

Creak-Clang-Clunk, Creak-Clang-Clunk, Creak-Clang-Clunk. After a very long, light jog from the knight, he finally puts you down outside the castle. The round about way you went seems to have dropped you at a part of the castle you haven't seen yet -- [[the front door. ]]

"Hey," you speak up, "are you totally sure we're walking the right way?" "Not in the slightest!" he replies, "I forge a new path everytime. The same road on every journey would get monotonous, no? Not knowing when or how you'll get there is half the fun!" Fucking cool, the blisters on your heels strongly disagree. Out of the corner of your eye, you see something dart between the bushes. A whistle from the trees above you. You feel [[eyes]] on you once again....

The whistling stops. A large, ripped man with an eye patch jumps into your path from the trees above you with a back flip. Two masked men emerge from the bushes behind you. They each have a burlap sack in hand. One has an antler, the other has a really big stick. A mountain of a woman with 3 scars on her face and two enormous sabers stomps out from behind a tree to the ripped man's side. "Morning Ladies," says the ripped man, "Give us everything you own, and we'll consider sparing your lives." "We are the [[highway men]]!" say the twins behind you in eerie unison. Aw fuck.

You fish around in your pockets, but you genuinely have nothing to give them. "No matter," says the woman, "clothes can be resold. Strip 'em." Before you can protest, tweedle-stick and tweedle-antler grab you by your arms and strip you of your clothes. "Oh! Oh! Heavens no!" exclaims the knight as the ripped man pulls off his metal helmet, "The prince will hear of this!" "The prince, ey?" mocks the ripped man, "And what is that pansy-ass prick going to do about it hmm? Send his knights after us?" He laughs and rips the right arm from his suit of armour. The mountainous woman laughs a hearty laugh and lifts the knight up by his ankles. She shakes him vigorously until he's naked from hips up. "Put me down! Have you no decency!?" "No," says the ripped man with a smirk, "Sold that years ago." You now stand in the path, ass-butt naked. How ya feelin? [[Pissed]] [[Scared]] [[So scared you pissed yourself|Scared]]

It's really hard to be intimidating with your Whole Ass Out, but you're gonna try anyway, huh. "Hey!" you shout, "You fuckers have some deeply problematic views about women!" The ripped man is taken aback, "Huh?" "You heard me! Associating the princes femininity with weakeness is sexist! Calling us 'ladies' as a derogatory when my friend here is clearly a sir is insulting to women! You have a lot of internalized misogyny to confront! The ripped man looks to his male counter points, they avoid his gaze. He looks to the mountain woman, she slightly nods. The ripped man glares back at you, "How dare you question me in front of men." "See, there you go again, denying that even your own muscle can be a woman. Your own refusal to unlearn this-" He stabs you through your belly with a knife. The male ego is a fragile thing. Oh well. If the knife didn't kill you, you would've been poisoned by all the [[Toxic Masculinity|The Dark Room]]. At least you died standing up for something.

The moutain woman stiffs the air. "What is it, Ellie?" asks the ripped man. "Smell fear." She takes two strides towards you, and you feel the earth shuddder under your feet. She bends down, like an adult crouching to speak to a toddler. "No like coward." flies from her lips on breath that reaks of onion and parsnip. Before you can protest, there is an entire sword between the two halves on your brain. [[Free saber lobotomy.|The Dark Room]]

You can see the castle in the distance, but much like the moon on a clear night of sailing, it's so near yet perpetualy out of reach. Carefully dancing across the horizon, but always evading your path. What kind of round-about-ass way is this man taking? Surely eventually you'll [[arrive at the castle.]] Probably.

"STATE YA BUSINESS!" Shouts down a female voice from... up? In front of you is an impractically large wooden gate. You look up- the sun gets in your eyes- but before you go totally blind you can make out the silhouette of a knight on the wall above the wooden gate. "I brought the doctor!" Shouts up your knight friend. "NOICE! BRING 'EM IN!" Gears click and chains rattle behind the door. Wood splinters and sprays out in all directions. The door cracks and curls back like the lid of a can of anchovies. As the door curls into a scroll to one side, many very tired-looked craftsmen hustle towards it and begin reparing it. You duck under a swinging two-by-four stooge-style and you walk through the disaster area and [[into the castle.]]

This is now starting to look familiar. Ahead of you is the [[main hallway|Hallway]], just as you left it. To your right theres a very oranate, marble [[staircase]], to your left, a paltry, rickety, spiral [[staircase]]. You look to your knight for guidence. "Well, my work here is done. Remember, the prince needs your services," he bends down and whispers in your ear, "And NOT the queen, no matter what she tells you." He stands again and walks back out the front door. He does a little jump-heel-click in the midst of the active construction zone. What a guy.

At the top of the staircase, there's a narrow hallway with 4 doors and a knight standing guard. Lemme draw you a word picture: ____________________ You are here______________ Wall________________ Ornate rug ________ Wall [[Door with an X]]_____ Ornate rug ___[[Door with a Snake]] Wall_________________ Ornate rug ________ Wall Royal Cat Portrait___ Ornate rug________ Ficus Wall_________________ Ornate rug ________ Wall [[Door with a Crown]]__ Ornate rug__[[Door with a Throne]] Wall__________________ Ornate rug _______ Wall __________________ Knight with a Sword___________ Wall_________ Wall__________ Wall__________ Wall

You open the door. Oh neat! This is the room you woke up! You feel weird calling it 'your room,' because well, best not to get attached to our prisons, eh? But the familiarity is comforting. As you noted earlier, there is a small [[Metal Door]] along the far wall. You can come in and sit for a while, if you like. Stare at that familiar, but not too familiar, but not too not familiar, blood stain. You could also go back into the [[hallway|staircase]]

You open the door and are greeted with the smell of axe body spray and reptile terrarium musk. The lights are on, but it doesn't seem like anyone's home. "Sssss," hisses a snake as it slithers toward you from under the bed. Agh! A snake! Fuck that shit! Slam the door closed and go back out into the [[hallway.|staircase]] Or do you try to [[befriend it]] because you lack any and all common sense?

You throw open the door. A lavish suite featuring a gold and white canopy over an enormous bed topped with a snowy white comforter and throngs of naked women. The women chatter and giggle away until a blonde woman at the foot of the bed notes your entrance. She whispers to the tall woman next to her who taps the tanned woman near her and so on until one by one this entire pile of nude ladies is staring at you. "What is is? What's the matter?" Cries a woman from the back, near the headboard. "Sorry to interrupt!" you shout, "I was just looking for the prince, I must have the wrong room!" The sea of babes parts down the middle as a very pretty and very plump woman crawls to the foot of the bed. In her tousseled hair sits a tiara. Oh gosh, that's [[the queen]].

You throw the door open. You've identified a lovely guest bathroom, complete with monogramed hand towels. The smell suggests that it is not complete with indoor plumming. You crack the window and walk back out into the [[hallway.|staircase]]

"Are you the doctor?" She demands. "I err, uhh..." [["Yes?"|Answer]] [["No?"|Answer]] [["Ya know, I'm really not sure anymore."|Answer]]

It bites you. Of course it bites you, it's a fuckin' snake. You die. Fuckin' hate snakes. [[Hiss hiss bitch|The Dark Room]]

"Come here!" She motions you closer. She sits up on the foot of the bed. As you hesitantly approach, a lanky, ginger girl drapes a sheer, pink, silky robe around the queen. It obscures nothing, but it looks fancy as fuck. "How do you expect to serve me today, peasant?" "Really, your majesty," you offer, avoiding her gaze, "I was just told to find the prince." She reclines into the strong arms of a woman with espresso-colored skin and lavender hair, "Pfft, that lazy asshole's probably in his room down the hall." You nod, "Thank you, your majesty. I'll be going there then, thank you." "Ah-ah!" She warns, "I am not finished with you!" [[She extends her leg at you. ]]

"I request," she stands, pulling her sheer robe loosely around her curves. She saunters slowly towards you, her full lips pursed and eyes scanning you up and down. She stops two paces away, flings her tiara back to the ladies on the bed, and when she turns back to face you there is an inexblicable luchador mask over her face made of the same sheer pink fabric as the robe, but with more lace. "Wrestle me. Let's go, doc, me and you, right here, right now." [[The lights dim.]]

"Oh, I'd rather not-" you protest, futilely. A spotlight clicks on above your head. A red spotlight clicks on above the queens head. A ring lights up around you on the floor. Thunderstruck by AC/DC fills the room. The ladies on the bed all whip out posters and meaphones. The queen begins to circle you like a vulture, you feel compelled to respond in kind. You've never watched wrestling, you have no idea what the rules are, but your roommate watched a lot of WWE freshman year of college, you probably absorbed something by osmosis. Hopefully. The babes on the bed shout and cheer, "Yes your majesty!" "Off with your head!" "Bow down!" Several of the signs read 'We <3 the Queen of Hearts!' Seems you're the heel here, eh? The woman with lavender hair stands in the middle of the bed. An old school mic drops down from the gold canopy into her hand. "Let's get [[ready to ruummmbbbbbblllllleeeee!"]]

Oh god, you are deeply not ready to rumble. A woman with silky black hair and a body like a beach volleyball player from a corny 70s movie crosses between you with a sign reading 'Round 1.' A bell dings from somewhere over your heads. The match seems to have begun. [[She launches at you]]

The next minute is a blur. She pins you to the ground, she throws you in the air, she sits on your face, she body slams you into the ground- you're dizzy and bruised. She subjects you to all kinds of classic wrestling moves: The Thornwhip, John Cena's Trombone, Singin' in the Rain, The Slingshot, The Slingshot with Rocks, The Norweigian Checkbook, Alfred Hitchcock's Stapler, The Ol' 1-2, and of course, Pointy Elbow to Your Cartoids. Somehow you end up face first on the cold marble floor. The bell dings. Finally. You close your eyes. [[Saved by the Bell|The Dark Room]]