(The chapter says "Cece") Once upon a time... there was a little girl who wore a beautiful cape/head of hair of red color. Wherever she went, that color followed, so they nicknamed her Little Red Riding Hood RED. Little Red Riding HoodRed was a good and affectionate somewhat mischievous girl who lived without family in a beautiful (foster) home in the middle of the forest. One day, her mother [SHE DIDN'T LOVE HER ANYMORE?!] And so, her days passed... without a family.
(...)
(The chapter says "Little Red Riding Hood") Once upon a time... A world plunged into darkness by an indescribable evil.
A world where hope was extinguished.
Until from the darkness... A heroine appeared, and together with her three friends and the three stones of the goddesses, she completely banished evil... Thus saving the universe and all realities before disappearing forever.
...unlike the evil, which could be just around the corner.
(But luckily... We have a legendary girl on our side!)
Little Red Riding Hood, who was supposed to beware of the wolf, is now a viking. Very strong and all. Her axe an instrument of justice, although sometimes it seems more propitious for...
What matters is that she wants to save us! Now it's up to her to find the 3 companions who can help her. Or does she no longer need to search?
Whatever the case, the temple. Today, that is the place... that the human team must overcome. turnos enka minoh
>>1766 >Everyone with mod. I understand, you've probably beaten it normally 20 times kekcito
>I didn't like 5 and 6. Ayy, it's declining. I remember a friend was excited about 7, I never asked him about it and now that I see it his ratings are mixed. Is it over for this franchise?
>I recommend 3 with Mod CCM3 Okis. When I have a PC I'll get on it. Now I'm surviving purely by phoneposting. Next year I'll probably be working kek
>Starcraft isn't exactly a Civilization Oh kek I'm dumb. I don't know anything about that, put AoE, AoM, Starcraft, Civilization and I think they're all the same.
>Civ in space would be Alpha Centauri, but that one has very tough and unique complexity for its age. Ayy well, then I don't think it's a good place to start. Do you like those complex ones? Do you know Dwarf Fortress or Rimworld?
>No. But bulging eyes can pass as lenses on the sprite. I hadn't thought of it but you're right kek although I see them more as sunglasses. Willy Wonka style
>Marie with contact lenses. Kek she's identical.
>Nostalgic Critic? I can neither confirm nor deny that it was him. It could be because I used to watch his channel a lot, but I'm not entirely sure.
>Thanks to you, characters make more gestures. Ayy. It feels good to contribute even a little, I hope the idea is useful to you.
>I looked for it in my trusted Cuevanas, and it's no longer there. How strange. See? They're erasing history... kek
>No Ah
>About black and white movies, I don't have a preference. If a movie is good I can watch it in any format. Ok, I'll send you the super 8 by mail and you can watch it kek
Seriously though, it's good. I wouldn't tell you to rush to see it, but if you have no idea what to watch, it exists. It's even on Youtube for free.
>not of LIKING with capital letters. There are much better authors, but I know his work, and in general it reads well. Hmm... Well, I haven't read anything by him yet. Since you're familiar with it, would you say this ugly normalfag meme is correct? kek
>The Dark Tower I understand refers to his entire library Aa... How lazy. I'm not saying I don't want to read the old pedophile, but having to read his entire library before getting to his most acclaimed work doesn't really appeal to me kek
>short books like Cujo, The Dead Zone, or Pet Sematary. In fact, Cujo catches my attention. I had forgotten it was by him. I don't know the others but I'll download them since you mentioned them.
>>1767 >>1768 >>1769 >Cece "Shut the fuck up, butterball! Can't you see she's already sitting down?!"
She was going to let it slide, seriously, her idea was to stay calm and stick gum on the bald spot as soon as she wasn't paying attention. But Roja has a short fuse for these attitudes, especially when the other party does nothing but apologize.
Already in their seats...
Cece is thin as a pencil. If she loses any more weight, she'll look like an African child, she doesn't want that. Alicia gets lost with the synonym, but from how the batter is squeezing her love handles, it's obvious she's referring to her belly and not her elegance at the table.
"I'm not just talking about me, about everyone. Your age is the least of it, rich people don't play by the same rules as commoners." She crosses her legs and tries to put them on the back of the seat in front, but since she can't reach without bending too much, she lowers her feet.
Alicia takes the "cunt" thing seriously. Cece snorts and grumbles, but instead of correcting herself, she doubles down.
"It has teeth. Like a piranha's mouth, but vertical." She tilts her head and chews loudly to be more graphic with the misunderstanding. If Alicia keeps believing it, Cece would huff and shake her head, exclaiming: "It wasn't literal!"
To clarify the Jennifer Connelly thing, Cece pulls a drawing she made out of her backpack. As she shows it, Alicia can notice how the problematic young woman tenses up as if pricked from behind, her throat moves with the reflex of swallowing. The reason: Out of overconfidence, she revealed another part of herself, her secret drawings. With feigned indifference, Cece quickly puts the sheet back in her backpack without Alicia touching it.
"Th-That was a gift from Marcy. She's always drawing and stuff... If you were our mom, would you let us have ice cream after dinner?" She changes the subject.
Molly = Cece? Roja argues yes.
"Making things up? That's not my thing. Molly is also sincere, you just have to know how to listen. She's like a turtle."
Molly = Turtle?
"Turtles have that thing around them, the house. They hide inside when they get scared. But if you know how to approach them, you can pet them and everything. Molly is the head, the inventions are the house, you get it?"
Lies = Shell? Alicia takes out a PS2. Cece's lips form an O and she leans closer to her, hunched over the console, showing her complete interest.
"That's so cool! Why didn't you tell me? We could have played God of War or Resident Evil 4! I read in a magazine that if you blow off the hillbillies' heads, tentacles come out like this"
She looks at the ceiling and waves her arms like euphoric snakes, her little mouth letting out whistles and onomatopoeias of whip cracks (Autism?).
After Alicia said 13...
Where did she learn that? Cece shrugs and says she doesn't remember.
"On the street, I guess"
The sky clouds over and the atmosphere darkens. Cece was comfortable taking a nap, just putting her arm there, but Alicia gives her a better resting position, discovering an unexpected tension from Cece. She glances at her out of the corner of her eye with attentive eyes, looking like a fawn in the middle of the road. The gentle insistence gives way to the pugnacious girl's docility, she allows herself to be laid down on the blonde's thighs and positioned as she wishes. As she is petted, Cece's gaze doesn't leave Alicia's, you can tell she's holding her breath, almost as if waiting for a blow... Which never comes.
Cece agrees to close her eyes. A couple of pearl-like tears persist through her eyelashes.
"Are you going to take pieces from me too?" she asks in a whisper.
She feels like pieces are missing from her. Or rather, that they were taken from her. That's why she's always alert and defensive, protecting the pieces she has left as if her life depended on it. Cece doesn't want to end up like Amelie, she doesn't want to hate the world.
Roja will never let herself be defeated.
She wipes her eyes with a fist. She turns on her side, resting her head on one arm, hiding her expression from Alicia.
"A song is fine..."
Alicia holds a trembling hand, which relaxes as she continues with the song. Cece keeps her eyes closed, her breathing evens out, she seems asleep but she isn't. She listens attentively, she hears the promise...
She doesn't believe it, but she wants to believe it, and there's even a little part of her that would like to fight to make it a reality.
She remains silent until Morpheus finally comes to take her.
>>1773 >Cece She jolts up as if feeling a stake through her, throwing off a layer of the dampness that had been accumulating on her.
"Ali...?" She mutters, for an ephemeral instant still perceiving the kind ghost of her fingers. It doesn't last long, Cece leaves the bench and in the clumsiness brought on by drowsiness, she trips over her own feet, falling on her hands, scraping her palms and knees and filling her nails with mud. "Sh-Shit"
She shakes her head. She lifts her face and sweeps her gaze around, spotting ¿Alicia? in the gloom. She flees before the troublemaker can even ask her what's wrong.
What? Where? How? Why? These are the questions that repeat in Cece's mind like tolling bells. She gets up, picking up the gray bag in the process. She doesn't open it immediately, just contemplates it between her fingers while trying to orient herself and remember. Her memory ends when she fell asleep on the bus.
"Shit!" She exclaims. Strange as it may seem, breaking the sound of the rain with her own voice calms her, at least a little. Were they drugged? Did the cookies have something in them? "Shit" A pressure oppresses her heart, she quickly shakes a hand to remove the mud and brings it under her skirt. Panties on, nothing burns, nothing hurts. Roja sighs in relief. "Shit..."
She opens the gray bag to get the hood, putting it over her shoulders to protect herself from the dampness and cold.
"Shit" She picks up the object the blonde dropped. Flashlight, radio, weird ball... Her expression contorts, her left eye twitches. "Shit!"
Cece realizes Napoleon is missing. She looks around, runs to the bench, peeks under the wood. She turns on the flashlight to see better, rummages through the bushes and thorns. With each failed search, a layer of cold sweat tightens around her.
She sits down again, not caring if her ass gets wet. She digs her nails into her knees and clenches her teeth. She waits like this, head down, for a minute or two. She wants to believe she'll find Napoleon later, but hope is a bitch.
"Shit..."
She looks where Alicia went. It's the only clue she has to find out what's happening. Roja inhales deeply and slaps her cheeks hard. She follows the path, opening the darkness with the flashlight, eventually glimpsing the castle.
"Dracula, Bram Stoker. 1992" The comment comes out automatically, practically before she can think. The explanation she comes up with is that it's her new daddy's house, a theory with too many plot holes.
2/2
>Dementia can use any kind of weapon Dementia: Say hello to my little friend, Starlo!
<With the whole "all magical beings are good" thing and all. It would still be a shock. Imagine running into a big-headed fairy. She'd probably get used to it, but at first it would be hard to digest.
>>1773 Your voice reverberates through the empty bus and startles the victim, whose eyes widen with fear of consequences. They jolt upright just as the driver, moving as slowly as his appearance suggests, peers out from his seat.
>Gordo "What did you say?"
He asks, shaking his head as he speaks, baiting you to step on the trap—inviting you to repeat yourself. Though you might have been tempted to make your words perfectly clear, Alicia quickly turns her back on you and interrupts.
>Alicia "It was nothing!" —she looks at you, visibly worried— "it was nothing, I..." —she glances at the man again— "please forgive her... s-she didn't mean anything by it..." —she lowers her head— "she's just... just trying to protect me. I should've sat down without saying anything... this is my fault..."
Her apology is somewhat contradictory, but enough to make the man lose interest. The fat guy waves his hand dismissively, muttering a tired "whatever," then refocuses on the steering wheel and the road ahead. Alicia takes a moment before lifting her gaze again, tilting her head without fully straightening it, and finds you almost in profile. Her sad eyes soften, and her lips form a small smile meant only for you—an unspoken thank you—before she turns completely and finally decides to sit down. Never mind that you nearly got them denied service; she seems genuinely happy once they're seated.
There, words flow freely and go in many directions—like toward your belly. The blonde doesn't get it at first, but you don't feel the need to explain. You shake the tiny bit of excess you're barely able to grasp with increasing insistence, waiting for that moment when basic logic finally clicks in her head.
"Ahm..."
Thin. Tummy. Thinner. Thinner than this. Thinner than what you're holding. A slow blink from Alicia follows as the rusty gears in her mind begin to turn. "Your belly?" -she asks in confusion, that had already been established- "thinner than that..." -she says, her eyelids lowering a little, thoughtful. Then she shakes her head and looks slightly sad at not understanding- "I don't get it, Roja." -she tilts her head, now she looks genuinely sadder, but for the same reason- "Talk to me... are you trying to say...?" -she straightens her face, and the effort to think of something is visible- "uh..." -she looks down for a second, at the seat, then looks up- "skinny...?" -yes- "Is that it?" -she opens her eyes a little wider, she looks better now, a minimal joy at finding the answer, which turns into a graceful smile- "heh..." -she lets out a little laugh- "no, no..." -she shakes her little head once- "that doesn't matter... you could actually use a little more to eat..." -of course, that was difficult at home-
"Being thin is like..." -she wants to explain, smiling, but stumbles just as she starts. She looks up, searching the ceiling for an answer- "like..." -she thinks for a second, looks down and smiles again- "acting like a prin-" -she stops herself, a little princess maybe isn't what you want to hear, she's used to dealing with Lily. She seals her lips and with an 'hm' as her eyes dart to the side, she seems to come up with a better idea for you- "like... elegant. Meaning... polite, eating without rushing, with your mouth closed... with cutlery..." -she moves her shoulders, raising one and lowering the other as she lists things- "I can... I can teach you if you want."
She thinks you'd like that explanation, a more direct one. If only she knew about movies, she probably would have mentioned Hannibal's manners. He's elegant at the table, that's what Alicia wants from you. Would you listen to your sister and possible future mommy?
<I'm not just talking about myself, about everyone.
"I-I know- I-" -she startles- "sorry..." -she didn't choose her words well-
<Your age is the least of it, rich people don't follow the same rules as commoners
"Huh..." -she gets a little distracted watching you try to lift your feet, it wasn't very 'elegant', but lately she ignores it and looks at you again- "Really...?" -Now she's the one who needs to understand things- "If I could, I would do it without hesitation..." -she mentions with a gaze that goes diagonally to the floor, dull and fixed on a somewhat melancholic scenario- "although we'd have to see if everyone likes the idea..." Probably yes, escaping that house would be an improvement no matter what. Regardless of what anyone thinks of Alicia, it sounds hard to give a flat no. At worst, things might get worse under her wing with the personalities sharing the same roof, but refusing outright must be difficult. Leaving that dump would make anyone happy.
<It has teeth. Like a piranha's mouth, but vertical.
"..."
She stares at you, scrunching her face as she imagines something unpleasant.
"Uh..."
Uncomfortable. She doesn't know what to say, but she can't take her eyes off you during your performance. This is so stupid that maybe a few minutes of your life just vanished with your heavy sigh.
<It wasn't literal!
"Ah!"—her eyes and mouth pop wide open, her face un-scrunching as she briefly raises both hands in a fleeting "STOP"—"yes!"—then her hands drop and her face relaxes—"uh... I... I got it a bit late, but... eh... never mind, sorry... I'm dumb."—she shrinks her body slightly, showing submission. She seems overly worried about these things—
Jennifer wasn't the director. You were about to explain using a whiteboard, curiosity reignited. Alicia follows you with her eyes until your gaze and hers meet at your backpack. You pull something out—paper—and reveal the drawing to the blonde. Her mouth forms a perfect little circle.
"Oh—"—meanwhile, you audibly swallow. Without lifting your head, Alicia's eyes peek over the paper; you seem neutral. Her calm gaze returns to the drawing—"Can I—?"—she asks, starting to smile, but no. She can't.
When her fingers rise threateningly, hovering just centimeters from the sheet, you snatch it away in a sudden motion, making her hand jerk back and her face flood with confusion. The paper is buried back among your things.
<I-It was a gift from Marcy. She's always drawing and stuff...
"Ah..."—she grows a little sad, shrinking in on herself, thinking she did something wrong—"Sorry. I just... it looked cute—I wanted—"—she struggles to look at you; if you reacted that badly... maybe it was precious to you, she shouldn't have tried to touch it...
You straighten up, finding her curled up and looking to the side. You change the subject.
<If you were our mom, would you let us eat ice cream after dinner?
She deigns to look at you, from below, slowly raising her eyes.
"I'm sorry..."—still hung up on the previous moment—"ah... sorry, what did you say?"—she got distracted—"ice cream...?"—she heard, just wasn't sure—
"Yeah..."—she looks past you, toward the window—"...if I were mom..."
She thinks it over, savoring the idea as she puts it into words. In her mind, a scene unfolds—her, Lily, Molly, you, and a dinner full of flavors and abundance that could only exist in her imagination, never on the table they've shared. An empty plate, a full belly, and a happy heart—so much so that she smiles in real life too.
In her head, she walks in holding a giant tub of multi-flavored ice cream and sets it before the girls, and as unrealistic as it sounds, she allows herself to dream. Amidst the two babies flailing their arms and squealing with joy, Alicia can picture Cece smiling.
"..."—her little smile parts her lips for a second, then closes again, but more pronounced. With that smile, she looks at you, happy—"yes... BUT!"—she raises a finger at you, not losing the smile, tilting her head slightly as she fully steps into the mom role, setting conditions—"only sometimes."—she says, very sure of herself, then explains while glancing at the ceiling—"every Friday... and on other days, other desserts."—her raised finger now serves to count—"sometimes you'd get ice cream, sometimes cake, or French toast."—three fingers up, she faces you directly and her upper body leans forward slightly, bringing her face a bit closer—just enough for emphasis, but still timidly respecting your personal space—"and sometimes a yummy-yummy fruit salad!"—she says cheerfully.
>>1774 You wake up, out of nowhere, in nowhere. You are sitting under a weak but insistent rain, which beyond seems dissonant and violent, like a veil of large drops. You fall, the mud is almost liquid from so much water it has received. Unpleasant, and yet, the least of your problems.
You don't know for sure what happened. Alicia leaves you amidst laughter, and you return to the bench, where the rain barely brushes you, for a necessary moment. You check. You are fine, luckily. Nothing bad has been done to you, you have no wounds. But you are still lost.
You open that bag, the rejected cape is still there. You take it, they wouldn't miss it, and you put it on. It fits you perfectly, as if it were made for you. The water now hits and slides off the red after you decide to approach the objects left behind.
A simple flashlight, which fits nicely in your chest pocket, a very portable red radio, no bigger than your hand, and a strange sphere the size of a large marble, it seems to be made of glass, as it is transparent, but it is completely silver, to the point that it seems it should be opaque. However, it holds a golden liquid inside, which moves acting as such, always staying at the bottom if you decide to inspect it.
But the new objects obtained had little good for you compared to what was lost. You run to look for it, under the bench, among the hedges and in the rain. Of course, its absence extends throughout the search, which only makes you desperate. The hardest part is accepting that it's really not there.
You give up, and go where the hedges end and the arch begins. The muddy path in the darkness, which only thanks to your flashlight you can see. Dracula's castle seems the only option. You venture into the unknown.
https://youtu.be/gYgNB2CL71A?si=JNavXyZ7X3zXraIg▶ Your steps sound like footsteps in a puddle. You venture in like the only light in a forest, a muddy path straight as a sword, dark as death. The flashlight's beam struggles with the blackness, but seems weak. The darkness surrounds it, and it looks around almost like particles constantly trying to penetrate the little security it gives you.
The cold seems to come hand in hand with the night. Even with the hood, the breeze can touch your face, filter through and reach your neck. As if on purpose. Sometimes managing to make some raindrops, which already seemed to have worsened, hit your cheek forcefully.
Looking away to avoid it is to face darkness. You can only see what the flashlight touches, usually an extensive muddy path, which feels dark even under the beam of light, whose end you cannot see, and is constantly harassed, like you, by trees stuck to each other, probably until the end. Seeing those trees doesn't seem to make much sense, if you looked to the left, you would find nothing but emptiness. Dark silhouettes of more trees hidden in the gloom and little else.
https://youtu.be/WWoML_PWNG0?si=bw4ro_sqcJswL8PO▶ A strident noise sounds from too close. It's like scraping stone with stone, or maybe it's more like a very damaged phone ringing. Whatever it was, it was there. Looking around, it's no use. No. It's coming from closer... from you. It's the radio. Apparently it was on and broken. As you process this, you hear another sound. This one, yes, more distant, like a splashing, too similar to the one you made while walking. It's clear, no illusion, you hear it over the rain and it's coming from your right. If you turn your head, after passing some trees, your flashlight would shine between two trunks two circles of intense green. Attached to the head of a huge wolf.
https://youtu.be/AnjB9-452WQ?si=96NsZIRKc1cVThO5▶ The beast doesn't take long to emerge from its hiding place, walking normally. It's so big it looks like a bear, maybe more. It doesn't stop moving, nor looking at you while keeping its distance, stalking you. Marking the diameter, around you with steps that seem millimeter-perfect. It advances with a certain grace, as if wanting to appear elegant with every movement.
It's just a wolf. One might say. But something about its face didn't fit, maybe the position of its completely empty eyes, the strange lines on its nose, maybe the ears that seem to move on their own from time to time. Vibrating as they are kissed by the rain.
One could say something about its face was... out of order.
And making that circular path, it slowly approached. Until you had it at your side.
>Wolf "Ohh... Little Red Riding Hood? What are you doing here...?"
Again, it wasn't your imagination. It clearly spoke to you, despite not moving its jaws. You felt the sound coming from its direction, its deep voice, from a mouth filled with air, like a cave you could enter and disappear into.
"Are you lost...?"
It asked, walking, trying to position itself behind you. Its height made its head, which encompassed what your head and chest combined, orbit around you... at least until it lowered it, coming to your level. Its breath is dense. You feel the air entering and leaving its nose, violently snatched and repelled with natural force. Its eyes are on you, piercing, a hunter's gaze.
"Or where are you heading on this lonely night...?"
It asks, sniffing. It drools, and licks its lips. But it waits. It speaks to you, tries to make you relax. Being up close you see its fur threatening to fall off, as if its skin were melting, but it soon returns to its place, as if reassembling itself.
Kek, I ended up feeling sorry for Cece and Alicia. In the end, it's a what if if everything hadn't gone to shit.
Dementia: Say hello to my little friend, Starlo! Keksito. Not ironically, I could handle a firearm with mastery despite never having seen one. But well, the thing is, they don't exist.
>Imagine meeting a big-headed fairy. Surely you'd get used to it, but at first it would be hard to digest. I guess so, obviously. But with how Ribbon is, I see it more as a "low tier" apparition. That is, of course it's crazy, but I don't know if it's THAT impactful. I'd compare it to finding a Jackalope, kek, of course it's impressive, but Ribbon would be the most scared.
But what's done is done. Dementia lifts the piece of temple, deflecting the hammer with the impact even though it wasn't her plan. She takes the mushroom from her inventory and looks it in the eyes, maybe there's no consciousness in the fungus, but Dementia wants it to be the last thing the fungus sees. Without her fairy companion, the cap's violence goes out of control! She sinks her teeth into its face, pulls like a beast, and eats it.
(Now I'm going to grow... I'm sure that's exactly what it does!)
The ground is farther away, the ceiling slightly closer, her dress is tighter around her hips, and her backside gains weight. It feels good to be family-sized Dementia, though her dress had better have grown with her.
"Wa hah ha!" She laughs triumphantly as she catches Thor's fists. Only for her futile headbutts to erase her smug grin. (Why didn't you tell me beforeeeeee?) She scolds the narrator, because if she had known... Never mind, she would have fallen for the same thing.
She snaps out of her daze with a smack, spins, bounces off the floor, only to be lifted and hit again. Sparks fly inside her head before she kisses the ground for the second time. She feels blood running from her nose to her lips, and as she licks, she tastes the metallic tang. She's yanked by her cape and stood up again, the face the heroine reveals is unworthy of her legend, her bangs messy, her cheek swollen, one eye bloodshot and the other with a droopy eyelid, her nose smudged and runny, a string of saliva dripping from the corner of a broken lip. And even so...
"He... Hehe..."
She dares to laugh. A slow sound, where difficulty and confusion separate the syllables.
"You... You're starting... To an-"
Anger me.
The third blow silences her, the one that knocks out a tooth, the only reminder of the beating that magic forgets to heal. From outside her daze, darkness tames the god. The cap looks from the ground with narrowed eyes, until she's no longer distracted and spits the baby tooth that came loose into her palm, a tooth she stores in her inventory, being very careful not to cut herself in the process... She plans to give it to Ribbon.
(I think fairies like these things...)
She's dissociating, that's not a good sign. Her attitude might stem from a feeling of dissatisfaction and annoyance. She doesn't like the bad guy helping her win. She gets up. She sees the hammer rattling and starting its journey back to its owner...
It's very close. So close she could grab it. The cap moves her hand and, as if by a magic trick, pulls Cariñitos from her top hat (Inventory). Dementia didn't hesitate for a millisecond, she lifts the axe above her head with both hands and lets all her weight and frustration fall onto the hammer, sending it crashing to the ground.
"AAAAAAAAH!"
Axe blow 1d132 = 23
"NOOOOOOGH!"
Axe blow 1d132 = 56
"I LOST!"
Maybe not in the counts because Starlo was there, but that's the feeling she was left with, and consequently:
Hit! Hit! Hit! 1d132 = 107
She swings her arms until her muscles burn and sparks blind her, and even then she keeps striking, as if wanting to break through to the center of the world by pulverizing the layers with axe blows.
>and he approaches what I want to reach the most Sorry for taking so long. I hope I haven't killed the two roles. Also, I'm like Marie now. No, I don't have a tomboy girlfriend and I'm not a red-haired nerd, but they did tell me to wear glasses, kek.
>Dementia likes being the mommy It matches her future version.
>Chubby Cece That would be a contradiction, wouldn't it? She exercises, eats poorly, although of course, there's Chowder.
Wattpad? Fanfiction.net. I never got into Wattpad.
>but it makes me laugh that it's become common The most curious thing is that they were very well written for the quality one might expect from a fanfic.
>Is that Omegaverse thing? Yes.
>I recommend doing it in Spanish I always do. I shouldn't because reading in English helps improve fluency, but I really enjoy the Spanish language (This sentence sounds a bit weird, KEK). I learned to appreciate it a lot thanks to the poems of Ruben Darío, that guy was a genius, I recommend his "Prosas Profanas".
>I don't participate in roleplay elsewhere Me neither. In my day, I looked for roleplay forums, but they required more than getting a VISA.
>Jeff the hugger That name is scarier than Jeff the killer.
>Do you have any favorite creepypastas? The brothel of paraphilias.
Kek, no. But if I'm honest, I don't remember. I think I read several of the ones you mentioned, but I couldn't tell you. I never had a list of creepypastas read in the same way I have for books, it would have helped me. I remember the old story conglomerates like SCP or The Holders better.
>Do you think that's still the trend? I guess? I haven't seen any new trends. Maybe it exists elsewhere like TikTok, but I don't use any of the "trendy" social media.
>chainmailchasers, Morley Grove, and the oldest view I didn't know any of that. You're more informed about that world than I am.
>and Angel Hare returns When Venezuela becomes a world power, I'll buy a plushie of her.
>Any in particular? Pale Moon came out of that, right? Also, Cara de Dios, even if it's not a typical greentext, or all the conspiracy theories from /x/, which aren't gt either but there are several like the one about Antarctica that are scary, or that fascinate me like the flat earth one. The latter is maximum kino-level fantasy, with the ice ring and new continents like Mu or Lemuria waiting outside. Sadly, when they try to discuss it seriously, they limit themselves to a crappy image of a flattened world, leaving aside the more extravagant and wild possibilities.
Sadly, Earth-chan is not flat and there are no islands with dinosaurs waiting beyond the poles.
>If it's to get it off your list, you could give it a chance but go in without expecting much Anime doesn't really appeal to me anymore, at least the new ones that come out, and at this point, the idea of following an eternal shonen like Naruto or Dragon Ball used to be also puts me off.
One series I decided to rewatch was Avatar. I already knew it was good, and I know the plots almost by heart, but it still surprises me how well-made it is and its interactions. It's a joy to rewatch it and reconnect with Aang and the gang. >You seem more into the scene. Not really, or I don't know, maybe I am and I haven't realized it, kek. It's like when they tell you you're a geek about something and you think you're just a superficial connoisseur.
>Raimi's? Or Spider-Verse's? The MCU ones. Although my favorites are Raimi's first two.
>Are they good? The Deadpool ones are okay, nothing more.
>I heard it's pretty edgy, kekcito I haven't read it either, I saw a summary and yes, it's edgy to the max because the author hated superheroes. It's also quite ridiculous.
It seems crazy to me. If I have kids, it will be when I decide. I mentioned it because I've seen many colleagues dedicate their lives to fatherhood due to pressure or not wanting to use a condom. Then they regret it, and they have to resign themselves, and there are even cases where they continue to live the life they had before the offspring but leave all the care to the grandmother because, oh surprise, they weren't ready or didn't want kids in the first place.
>Sometimes we're just down, the best thing then is to give yourself a little time until you feel better. Hope that makes sense, kek. It does. Thanks.
>Or did it pique your curiosity because they compare it to Breaking Bad? I saw it mentioned and they said it was good, so I decided to give it a try. The same thing happened to me with The Sopranos, although I dropped it at the beginning of the second season, maybe I'll pick it up later.
>many arguments were based on it having many (I quote) "niggers", kek Breaking Bad and The Wire are incomparable. They have a totally different environmental and dramatic tone, each is its own thing and should be enjoyed as such. Otherwise, it would be like comparing Mario 64 to Ocarina of Time.
I really liked The Wire, it's almost documentary-like in how they show life in Baltimore and the systems that compose it: police, criminal, working class, student, political, etc. My favorite season (and the toughest) is the fourth, and the one I liked the least (both for what it proposes and how it executes it) is the final one. Still, as a series, I recommend it. And yes, it has blacks all over the place.
>Is it over for this franchise? It will depend on how much it sold.
>Do you know Dwarf Fortress or Rimworld? I never bothered to learn Dwarf Fortress, and I have Rimworld pending. I don't know if I like complex games, but I do like it when there's a system that requires mastery, for example, the technology in Arcanum, it's a hassle, and in fact, it's not efficient at all, kek, with a magic build you destroy everyone. But there's something mystical about finding the blueprints and parts to assemble your arsenal, even if it's less efficient than first-level necromancy (There's literally an initial spell from the necromancy school that can kill almost everything in the game).
>I'll send you Super 8 by mail and you can watch it, kek. Speaking of weird movies, I recommend Valerie and Her Week of Wonders, it's one of the lighter ones in surrealist cinema. I tried watching Jodorowsky's films because of all the hype around his Dune version and his excellent contribution with the Metal Hurlant, and I ended up like Krusty the Clown in The Simpsons when he sees "Obrero y Parásito", kek.
>would you say this ugly normalfag meme is correct? kek Quite. That's why I dropped 11/22/63.
>>1778 >Sorry for taking so long. I hope I didn't kill the two roles Don't worry! Not at all, it's just that I was inactive due to travel and a bit because of a super long shift I had. I'll try to reply today and we'll get back to normal. Everything else meta after the turn, this is just to show I'm still alive kek
>Also, I'm like Marie now. No, I'm not a redhead nerd with a tomboy girlfriend, but they did make me wear glasses, kek. Little kek. More stylish every day, OP. You'll get your tomboy girlfriend soon and a big-assed Russian girl to cuck her you're officially an honorary Marie. Because we already know glasses = Marie kek
>>1776 >Cece Refined, educated, elegant. As Alicia explains and looks at her companion, she finds her index finger digging in her small nose, pulling out a booger which she then plants on the windowpane.
"Teach me what?" She asks with listless eyes, which roll when Alicia insists she's dumb for not grasping everything the first time. "If you're dumb then all the boys in the orphanage are mentally retarded... Including me. Have more self-worth, Alicia."
You place your hands on your knees and squeeze them, it's either that or shake Alicia by her dress to stop her from being so much like herself. But not everything about the blonde's attitude is pathetic; sometimes, when she dreams of better places, Cece can close her little eyes and dream too.
However...
(I wish I hadn't dreamed so much)
That's what Cece thinks as she wakes up, shaken by a dark storm. She pulls her hood tighter, the fabric arch forming a curtain of rain. She advances through the unknown with the lantern lit on her chest, being very careful where she steps, not wanting to put her foot in a hole and break her leg.
(This darkness is... Strange)
She doesn't know how to explain it; it reminds her of when she was little (Even smaller), and had to get up at night to pee. The gloom of the hallways possessed an oppressive magic, a secret energy that pushed her little self to run, as if something bad were chasing her. This forest reminds her of that nostalgic urgency, only this time Cece remains firm and cautious.
She's not sure if there's a switch to turn on the light at the end of the path.
A screech makes her jump. Her head whips around, until it falls on the culprit, the radio. She frowns and grits her teeth, she'd throw the contraption away if it didn't silence and freeze the appearance of the wolf. As the creature advances, Cece retreats. She quickly puts the radio away, because otherwise it was going to jump out of her nervous fingers. Cece tries to remember the documentaries about what to do if you encounter an animal. Make yourself big? Play dead? Climb a tree? Scream very loudly? She can't put any into practice; first, she doubts they'd work, second, she always saw them as stupid tactics, third, out of instinct and automatic reaction, she's trying hard not to turn her back on the creature. It's like a dance, face to face, although what Cece wants most now is to stop seeing it.
"Wo-? Ack, uck, argh"
Her mouth opens and closes, the syllables get stuck in her throat to the point that she has to raise her hand to her throat. Roja is pale under the shadow of the hood.
"A-a-a-are you the devil?"
A common character in movies, an absolute enemy, a treacherous ally. Cece was never very up-to-date with catechism, but when an incongruity occurs in the world, everyone does what's necessary to fit it into their reality as best they can.
"A-are you...? Are you here to offer a deal?"
She swallows. Out of the corner of her eye, she tries to locate the path she was following, and moving sideways like a crab, she tries to position herself in the middle of the trail.
"I don't want any deals. G-go away! Because if you are the devil, if you are real... There's also the old man on high."
As she speaks, the hood would try to create distance and, if she saw an opportunity, she would run towards the castle.
>>1777 You look the mushroom in the eyes. Not a single thought passes through that being, it is as alive as any mushroom. You devour the mushroom, its texture is as spongy as a cloud
(Or a marshmallow!)
Whatever that was. And its flavor, well, it tastes like mushroom, very similar to a button mushroom but with a certain sweet touch like a carrot would give you. It's not entirely pleasant, but you feel the power from the moment you swallow it, a tingling that grows with you and makes you a big girl capable of headbutting Asgard.
However, your forehead pierces the form of the god, made of an element, which this time you couldn't hurt due to your low dice.
Obtained: large fang -large fang: it once belonged to some legendary being, but it wasn't even permanent so it fell off. It looks sharp enough to pierce stone. >Inventory 4/8
The darkness weakens the god, and Mjolnir goes to rescue him. The hammer rattles and flies through the air, for it will always return to Thor... but you swat it aside, Sweetie manifests in your hand out of thin air and you raise it to show the hammer what a hammer blow is.
(And when Thor called the lightning, something stronger fell. The axe, which Little Red Riding Hood wielded.)
(And what happened? Guess! Little Red Riding Hood broke another divine rule.)
(The hammer always finds its way to Thor.)
But not when the blow is so devastating! Sweetie crushed the hammer, stopping its flight and burying it in the ground. The thunder god frowns as your blows increase in quantity and speed, sparks rain down like a fireworks festival that shines until it blinds.
Your screams reverberate like the clang of steel that vibrated under your blows as constantly as to melt the noise into a high, sustained note. The crackling creates a cloud of blinding glare, and your arms, toned by the pure desire for destruction, emanate a perceptible heat in the very air.
(And Little Red Riding Hood struck, and struck, and as her desires were stronger than the world itself...!)
CRACK
>Thor "?!"
>Starlo "..."
POOW The rock yielded, its unbreakable structure parting around the hammer like a crater. The unknown metal outside of Asgard, worked by the two most skilled dwarves, was no different. His body saw the lightning's shape mimicked by a crack that covered it, weakening it.
(When Little Red Riding Hood stopped, Mjolnir no longer moved.)
And thunder rumbled beside him. To one side, a lightning bolt ascended. And Thor beyond the sky was lost.
>Thor escaped successfully!
Once the blue electric pillar vanished, behind it the other enemy was seen standing once more, shaking his head.
>Starlo "You wasted the ideal opportunity to eliminate him, don't you think?" -Yes? No?- "but the triumph is ostensible and consummated thanks to our ephemeral duet... Enough, almost, to inspire in me the desire to reward the efforts that have left you in such a sorry state..."
Starlo shows you the space stone, which shines in his hand.
(The stone!)
"Nevertheless, the keyword is almost."
He quickly flips his thumb as if to toss a coin, the stone jumps forming an arc trajectory, and is caught in the villain's snap, who lowers his head.
(Oh no!, That wasn't supposed to happen!)
"I can feel it..."
The mage grows a bit out of nowhere, ending up slightly below your new height, but clearly above normal Dementia.
"I see everything..."
The new power manifests in his being as color. A celestial aura surrounds him as the grayscale is painted with intense reds and blues that give the mage more life.
"The power of space..."
Light blue portals open uncontrollably in the air, across the entire grand room. Doors anywhere and everywhere, beyond imagination.
"I can control it..."
He looks up with his eyes adorned with a red laser-like light. His words, almost too impulsive for the reserved demon you had known until now, make sense when he snaps his fingers in your direction... and a portal advances and engulfs you.
>>1777 The portal opens the very next instant, changing your world completely. You are now face-down, looking at the ground from about 20 meters in the sky. You fall fast, crashing onto the ground outside the temple, a few steps from the stairs you climbed up the mountain. You are not affected in the slightest; 20 meters is a small fall, something you could jump from with your little legs without a problem.
What could hurt, however, was reality: you lost. And the sound coming from the sky, the same one you heard from all the portals Starlo opened, indicated you would soon have to give explanations.
POW!
Merlinus falls about two meters behind you in the Yamcha pose. His little hand flutters like a crushed insect's, his fragility played very much against him.
>Merlinus "I feel... something..." -OMG!- "pain..." -ah...-
PAF
On the grass, Sturlu falls face-down. In his compressed, out-of-combat form, with his arms positioned in opposite directions like those Chinese toy monkeys the ones that hook onto each other
>Ribbon "WAAAAAHHHH!"
The last to fall is the one who would probably take the impact the worst. Ribbon, tiny, soft... and with a longer fall due to her size... but she saves herself halfway, when her little wings respond by reflex and leave her suspended in the air, without her stopping screaming.
"AAAHHH!"
It takes her a couple of seconds, or until you tell her, to notice the stillness and open her eyes to find herself flying. She feels a little embarrassed, but it passes with a startle that makes her hurry her flight towards you like a diving bird of prey.
"Dementiaaaa!" -she exclaims- "What happened?! I was so scared! I-I heard very loud noises and wanted to go help you but I couldn't open the door! A-and Merlinus wouldn't help me."
>Merlinus "I was following orders..."
>Ribbon "See?! A-and then, that weird portal a-!" -she pauses with her eyes wide open and the curiosity of someone noticing something- "And Sturlu?" -she looks around quickly, spots him- gasp "Sturlu!"
She flies to the knocked-out one, orbits him worriedly, fast, looking at him from various angles.
"What happened?!"
>??? pantpant
(What is that sound?) At the start of the stairs, a big head peeks out. An albino child, wearing a pot helmet. You know him well, say hello, The Prince Charming, exhausted, but it's him in person!
>Prince Charming "Ow... ow..."
He clutches his chest and plants his wooden sword, a new weapon, on the ground to stay standing. He's sweating a lot, breathing with difficulty, his energy is like the poles, absolute zero.
"A...a..." -he tries to speak, but his gasps make it difficult, he raises a hand asking for a second-
He forces himself to straighten up, takes his hand off his chest, but continues to gasp with one eye closed.
"Little Red Riding Hood...!" -he forces his voice to get that out of his throat while pointing the sword at you with enough fatigue that his movement looks like that of a drunkard- "I..." -he gets tired, he finishes lowering his upper body and putting his hands on his knees- pant "Found you!" -he brings his hand to his chest again-
>Ribbon "A-are you okay...?"
>Prince Charming "Too many... stairs..."
Meaning... More or less.
"But...!"
He straightens up again, panting.
"I came... to stop you...!"
>Ribbon growl of discomfort
It probably wasn't the best time for Prince Charming to come bothering him. But it's not something the little one would think.
>Prince Charming "For destroying... the village..." gasp "fight me, Little Red Riding Hood...!"
>Merlinus "Fight...? I must... help..." -he tries to get up, but he'll probably need a few minutes of rest first-
>FIGHT?
>[YES] ♡ [NO] >push him down the stairskek
>Ribbon "...Wait, can you refuse to FIGHT...?"
That surprises him, usually fights start automatically when there's some hostility with the enemy.
The temple is finally finished! Now, let's carry out chapter 3 that I was so looking forward tothis part is more like a 2.5, it won't last long. We're back!
>Matches her future self. It's true. Though in a different way kek Speaking of which, did you see Rosalina's appearance in the new movie? I was a little disappointed, she looks a bit too much like Peach and didn't seem that tall...
>That would be a contradiction, wouldn't it?
Well yes, it's already established that she's skinny. But she had that pickaxe handy and it looked good kek
>She exercises, eats poorly, although of course, there's Chowder.
Outside of Cece, Chowder might be the only one who doesn't turn his nose up at the garbage they eat, so he gets some leftovers. Not that anyone else wants seconds. And there's more to tell, but I'm sure it will be revealed in-game so there's no need for me to mention it **
>Here you go. Ayy, thank you so much! They're on my medium backlog, not immediate, but I'll get to them eventually so I really appreciate you taking the trouble to send them over.
>Stepmother's praise. Honestly, I'd never heard of it. It's just that it's one of the books my z library recommends to me based on personalization and it caught my eye kek
>It's an ss doujinshi
Based? Kek
>removing an excessively scatological episode Oh damn, I guess that's what I'll have to expect from the author. Especially with this book, (if I recall correctly) it's about a dictatorship or something, I guess he'll throw in some gross stuff. I'll tell you when I read it if you're interested kek
>Fanfiction.net. I never got into Wattpad. Ah, I'm not aware of that one. On Wattpad, at least, I read a bit of My Little Pony fanfic when I was very young kek it was a cringe oneabout Applejack being pregnantno, it wasn't porn, just about what it would be like if she were pregnant KEK
>they were very well written Ayy, so you did read them and everything.
It's true, it's curious, I wouldn't expect South Park fujoshis to be something that stands out in the community for its good writing. But hey, what do I know. They say you should never underestimate fujos.
>Yes. There are very obsessed people with that, a lot of people want to roleplay it. I still don't understand it, I think I'll read Brave New World next and tell you if it has anything to do with this.
>It shouldn't because reading in English
Keksito just in case. Many want to read in the original language and that
>but I really enjoy the Spanish language
Seconded, it's a language that can be very beautiful. I wish I could handle it so beautifully, sometimes it's surprising, but not many can appreciate it. AND DON QUIXOTE IS READ IN SPANISH DAMMIT
>(This sentence sounds a bit weird, KEK)
Keksito. You said that! I didn't think anything weird until you said it. Dirty mind...
>Ruben Darío, I recommend his Prosas Profanas.
Profane? Wot I'll note it down. I like poetry even though I don't consume it too much. I always remember poems like the matricide or one at the end of "the boy who went mad with love", the first by a Gabriela Mistral. It's beautiful.
>they demanded more than to get a VISA. Keksito. I've seen it, at least here in the general meta, that they showed the giant character sheets they made. Also with images and everything. I don't know, it seems like too much. But I have seen the roles, ironically for how much they always ask for, they would roleplay with two words and that's it. It's not that it's bad, it's happened to us, but it's still a little funny.
>it's scarier than Jeff the killer. That's true, you could twist it quite a bit kek but he was supposed to be a cheerful and huggable twink and that's it. Now that I think about it, I don't know if it would be too pleasant for a random gay guy to want to hug you. Personal space and all that.
>The brothel of paraphilias. D-does that exist?
>search I don't remember. It's understandable. They are things from the piuuf past but past. I remember them because I used to read them too much, it was one of my main activities on the internet
>I think I read several I would recommend taking a look at them if you ever feel like reading a Creepypasta. They are cool. Then you have dogscape, that one is very unpleasant, it looks like a level from the backrooms before they existed kek >SCP or The Holders. I always thought The Holders were quality. Although I never liked that there were some where losing was literally inevitable, there was one called the mirror one I think, where you literally died at the end and your doppelganger took you as an object or something.
SCP seemed quality at first, but nowadays I feel like they do a lot of bullshit. And I have zero interest in reading their extra stories kek
>I guess? I won't argue with that, it's not as strong as before, but there's no new movement that has taken its place either.
>Maybe it does exist Me neither. But if it were something on the level of analog horror, I imagine one would hear about it indirectly.
>I didn't know anything about that. More or less, I know them, but as I said, I'm not very into it either. Although I do have them pending.
>When Venezuela becomes a superpower Keksito. Seconded, but with Arjensimia. Gabby's plushie is gorgeous. Too bad I can't buy it with my fifth-world currency kek
>Pale Moon came out of that, right?
I think so? Although after writing that and looking it up, I realized it wasn't what I thought. But it's probably true anyway.
>Also the Face of God, even if it's not a greentext in the usual sense
Really? Kuek, how stupid I am, I always thought it was from /mu/ or something because they talked about something related to the sound spectrum.
>conspiracy theories from /x/ They were right...
>Antarctica, or the flat earth one. I didn't see them, honestly. I've probably used /x/ twice.
>setting aside the more extravagant and wild possibilities. Redpilled kek
>Sadly
Dinosaurs are in the jungles. Mokèlé-mbèmbé is real.
But I wish there were countries we don't know about. It would be interesting. If Atlantis resurfaces and people go to populate it, I wonder what the economic situation would be like kek
>anime doesn't interest me much Same. I only watch Jujutsu, but because my nephew makes me watch it. And I still have to watch gundam and ashita no joe because I have them on my list. Nothing else. >rejects the idea of following an eternal shonen I understand, at least BNHA had an ending. Although as I told you, I haven't watched it nor would I recommend it after dropping it in season 3.
>Avatar Yesss. Avatar is a series that's impossible not to like, the only complaint I know is that the ending is a deus ex machina, but personally it never bothered me too much. It's super well-written, all good episodes, not a single bad one.
>it's a joy to watch it again Seconded. Who's your fav? For me it was always Toph, my first waifu. Btw, for more "western anime" watch boondocks, the first three seasons are THE BEST there is. And season 1 has a couple of very special moments, then it's 100% humor, but it's so hilarious that it doesn't bother meavoid season 4, trust me.
>superficial connoisseur. Kek Little kek. Same here, you might be more into it than me and still be just a casual fan. As I said, I'm not very into superheroes.
>MCU. Ah. I never watched those, to be honest. I saw the originals and the Sony ones kek. Everyone says those Sony ones are trash, but I was a kid, I didn't have that judgment.
>Raimi. They were pure quality. I haven't seen them in years, but as a kid I used to watch them over and over. Back then Spidey fans ate well with those movies and the Spectacular Spider-Man series kek
Into the spiderverse is cool, if you want to see more. I haven't seen the sequel, but the original is good. And Peni is beautiful.
>deadpool Well, enough. A movie doesn't always have to change your life, as long as it goes well with a Sunday with popcorn and a soda, it's fine kek
>it's edgy to the max Doesn't sound like something I'd read. I heard ugly things like Butcher makes his dog rape a chihuahua and shit like that kek.
>It's also quite ridiculous. How so? Is it because of the ending? I heard that's reeeally dumb
>>1781 >>1782 >Dementia Blow after blow, the sweet hands that grip the handle turn kilos of steel? into tons of power. The temple vibrates, sparks fly and writhe as if trying to shed excess energy. The cries of a frustrated hood conclude when - with a final downward strike - the hammer becomes lodged in a crater. The ground boils, the hood herself, panting and with her bangs disheveled in front of her face, lets out wisps of steam from her skin. Is it her sweat evaporating, or blood that heated up so much from anger?
Thor escapes in an electric pillar. Dementia carries Pets on her shoulder, but keeps her head down even when Starlo speaks to her.
"I lost... It's not worth finishing it like this," she says. The teachings of Ribbon about love and empathy do not cross her mind, because her internal annoyance is greater than her consideration for others. What kind of girl from the legends needs the villain's help to win? The hood grinds her teeth at the thought.
(A girl- All-... SHIT!)
She choked on the adjective.
Starlo plays with the stone, trying to poke it, but Dementia just tilts her head and snorts. Portals, levitation, space twisting, and a narrator who keeps panicking at what he witnesses.
THE HEROES WERE SUPPOSED TO GET THE STONE!
The hood trembles with every word spoken, her mouth is pursed and her face colored by a pink that evolves into deep red. Perhaps for the narrator it is sincere bewilderment, but all Dementia hears:
HOW WEAK! YOU DIDN'T DO WHAT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO DO! DEMENTIA SHIT! SHIT DEMENTIA!
...
"I'M DOING THE BEST I CAN!"
She screams into the air with her eyes closed, fists clenched, and hair bristling. Upon opening her eyes, she finds herself elsewhere and feels her feet light, she looks down finding nothing, air. She manages to run about five steps before collapsing and crashing to the ground outside the temple. Her companions also fall around her. Ribbon has to realize her situation on her own, because the hood is lying upside down like a starfish (??). The only thing the hood produces in its current position are indecipherable murmurs.
"..." She plants her palms on the floor and slowly gets up. Ribbon surely knows Dementia isn't normal, otherwise she would have gotten up with a jump or a flip, or a jump WITH a flip. Her hair is down and messy, her hood dusty, her strange clothes soaked with all the sweat from the fight this is to justify the pic, kek, and even more serious: the light in her eyes looks distant like a candle at the end of a tunnel. "I... tasted defeat"
She announces, averting her gaze. She expected mocking laughter, or a "I don't love you anymore" from Ribbon as her plump figure turns her back to disappear towards the sunset. That's what Dementia feels she deserves after what happened. But as the saying goes: there were many and the grandmother gave birth, because Prince Charming appears. Dementia's eyes water and her pupils grow upon seeing him, with a small hope that perhaps the prince will bring words of comfort...
But no.
He comes to stop her because blah blah blah and repeats Starlo's lies. Dementia frowns and growls exasperated. She's not in the mood to deal with this now. If the prince wants to believe she's bad... Well, let him believe it tenfold! The hood stomps hard in front and points at him with a hand.
"Everything you heard about me is true, true, TRUE! I destroyed the village! I hurt the wolf! I turned the poor, innocent goblin to ashes! I ate all the bears' food! And if you keep bothering me and following me... I'LL EAT YOU!"
One, two, three long steps are enough to plant herself in front of the boy. She raises a small fist, it looks like she's going to hit him with all her might in the head, but after lowering her hand she stops a centimeter from the young man's forehead. She extends her index finger, Dementia pokes him and pushes him down the stairs
>>1783 >I was a little disappointed, she looks a bit too much like Peach and didn't look that tall At least they respected her immense futa-cock Kek. We'd have to see her next to Peach to know her true height, I hope they do make her big, in Mario Kart she's heavy class like Bowser.
>And there's more to tell Chowder eats the orphanage children!
>it's about a dictatorship or something It also expects a lot of cucked military men.
>so you did read them and everything. Yes. They were always the ones with the most reviews and favorites, unavoidable.
>AND DON QUIXOTE IS READ IN SPANISH DAMMIT And not modern Spanish for little fairies, ancient Spanish!
>Profane? Wot That's what it's called, I didn't see anything suggestive about them. But perhaps for the time, their fixation with women with big hips and thighs did make people blush like deflowered maidens.
>Gabriela Mistral I'll keep the name.
>I don't know if it would be too pleasant for a random gay guy to want to hug you Depends if one wants it.
>D-does that exist? Yes, kek. It wasn't that bad. Pic 2 is the author, I think she's written more, but the brothel is her most famous and celebrated work (I don't know if there's much difference between the original creepypasta and the book she released later).
>What the fuck bro That's the synopsis of the first chapter, if I remember correctly. There was another about a teenager who wanted to fuck her dad who abandoned her and who had a big dick because he was a porn actor (The same big dick that she later crushed with a hammer or mallet). The author also has a crush on Jason Voorhees.
>doscape Now Luz will take Marie to the level of the plains, dog! After all, Marie likes puppies, doesn't she? kek
>Although I never liked that there were some where losing was literally inevitable If The Holders existed, it would make sense. You're literally messing with something you don't understand. Gathering them all might be a trap to make us sin with our completionist impulse.
>but nowadays I feel like they do a lot of stupid stuff Yes, I decided to ignore many of the modern contributions for that very reason. But still, one remembers SCP with affection.
>Redpill me Open spoiler.
>my nephew makes me watch it. It's nice that he wants to share his hobbies with you, it means he values your opinion and appreciates your company. >the only complaint I know is that the ending is a deus ex machina Since I already knew what was coming, the turtle didn't bother me too much either. More blameworthy was the Fire Lord himself, whom I always compared to a Grand Patriarch or Mumm-Ra but without charisma. But I have to admit that the end of the Fire book does feel a bit rushed, maybe they should have made two seasons, or a book titled Air to conclude everything and take a moment to develop all that energy stuff or the history of the lion turtles.
But I'm not complaining, it's a miracle that such a good series as Avatar even existed.
boondocks I know it, I used to watch it on Animax (Before its horrible fall from grace with sitcoms). I have to watch it again to refresh my memory. I found the episode where they go to the movies very funny.
>avoid the fourth I will.
>the series Spectacular Spider-Man It was so good they didn't let it continue.
>Into the spiderverse is cool Yes, very good. The sequel, I think, is incomplete.
>I heard ugly things like Butcher makes his dog rape a chihuahua and shit like that There are also lame plot twists with clones, fetuses that make their mothers fly, etc. For example, the character of Black Noir is much more transcendental and important, and I think Homelander fucks Soldier Boy... Or maybe it's the other way around?
Soldier Boy is my favorite character in the series.
>But The Sopranos is very long, isn't it? Six seasons, 86 episodes in total. It's not that long.
>Oh, I don't know if I would like that With almost a documentary, I mean that it gives a surprisingly realistic glimpse into how the police work, their prejudices, the experiences of the ghetto, etc.
>Oh well, that's a bit poorly designed, isn't it? It's not something that ruins the experience, Arcanum was so ambitious that it's normal for some parts to falter. It also came out broken and the community had to fix it. There will be mods that weaken that necromancy spell. I finished it with a full tech build because I found it more fun and challenging than magic, although magic is also fun to use.
>Amalka Super extra duper adorable. I was amazed when I discovered her design.
Kek, I'm level zero, I haven't used it in years and it won't let me send friend invites. I won't promise to be the most active Steam player in the world, but maybe we can play something sometime.
>>1780 He who drinks from a cup and chews with closed lips is elegant, he who measures his movements at the table with care is refined. From there the name must come, Alicia supposes, for you refined your actions. A fineness seen in gestures distant from the one who sees you do it.
Alicia's words catch in her throat as you stain the glass with a sticky green chip.
>Alicia Wolf <Red-? Ack, uck, argh
It spoke to you. You felt every syllable crawl into your ears like anyone else's words. You understood in that instant that what you had in front of you was evil. The stories that pass from mouth to mouth, where the unspeakable roams the earth in animal form, and with only a few impious whispers gnaws at the sanity of the unfortunate, cease to be laughable when you are under its gaze.
"Little Red Riding Hood..." -you finish your sentence- "I can see... the red... I like it... I can only see... the red..."
It is said that dogs can see few colors. White, black, and red.
<A-a-a-a-are you the devil?
"The devil?"
The wolf does not stop staring at you. It hasn't moved since it got down to your level, comfortable with this position.
<A-are you...? Are you here to offer a deal?
"Yes... an idea... some help... because you looked so lonely..."
You look back, the path you were following is now behind you, as the wolf forced you to turn until you spun around to avoid turning your back on it.
<I don't want any deal. G-go away! Because if you are the devil, if you are real... There is also the old man on high.
"Why are you chasing me away?" -it tilts its head- "Are you scared...?"
It brings its enormous head towards you, leaving its snout a few meters away. Its nose twitches as if it were full of worms, while you hear the rapid sniffing that makes your hair and hood sway like a branch in a blizzard.
"Yes... you're scared...!" -it licks its lips with excitement- "calm down... I'll help you get out... and you... will calm my hunger..." -it speaks between gasps of growing desperation-
After those words, it assaults you with a headbutt to which you react by turning and running, you hear the snap of its jaws, and you almost feel the pressure of those mandibles colliding just centimeters from your back.
https://youtu.be/kr7KU3D3ZpE?si=rC6da-Rvcl8Ltfib▶ In desperation, you plunge with violent stomps into the darkness. Mud and water splash up to your calves. And a stumble almost sends you face-first to the ground. The radio, which had gone silent for a moment, is again suffering from the noise of writhing parasites just as you hear other equally desperate footsteps following you.
"Come back here... I'm hungry, Little Red Riding Hood! Come back!"
You run with an advantage, but the beast is faster. The splashing behind you grew stronger by the second, like static, like the rough sound of the wolf's breathing. Your legs couldn't keep up, the enormous, quadrupedal monster took the place of your shadow, when you saw the path split in two. Turning now was impossible, you go straight and... the wolf takes the other path instead of following you. The radio falls silent. You are alone again. At least as far as your sight, obstructed by trees or dense darkness, allows. Perhaps slowing down but never stopping, you look for your only beacon, the light of the castle peeking through the trees at the end of your path.
You spot the door, huge and made of very sturdy wood. You are a couple of meters away... But then, the radio cries out once more, and from among the trees, the wolf leaps, depriving you with its enormous shadow of all the light you finally found in the castle. You ran, jumped, rolled, whatever made you feel it would save you, and crossed the threshold as the beast tore a piece from your hood.
The wolf turns swiftly as soon as it touches the ground, and charges back, replacing words with the sounds of hunger. But the door slams shut violently, with such firmness that no growl, scratch, or tackle that echoes from the other side can make it yield. The blows increase in desperation.
"OPEN THE DOOR!, LET ME IN!"
And they combine with shouts and gasps of the same nature that soon, like the blows, cease.
"I'm going to find you, Little Red Riding Hood..." - its voice is calmer, like a chilling whisper that doesn't threaten, but assures - "you won't see the dawn."
You hear footsteps receding. The radio turns off.
Now you find yourself on a centuries-old bridge. The stone that constitutes it, cracked and dusty, suggests it hasn't been maintained since then. On the sides, a somewhat high drop, leading to an extensive garden, with trees and darkness on both sides, which don't let you see much more from here.
With little else to do on this bridge, you walk under the lampposts that even in the rain gather swarms of insects, and cross halfway, where there is a cracked statue of a man in a tunic on each side. Without inscriptions or anything to make them recognizable other than their appearance and position.
Ahead, finally the main building of the castle. The stone of the past rises to the sky with its round towers and tiny windows. A relic of the past, taken from a fairy tale, which would probably look much prettier without the rain and night making it look somber.
You can continue, without incident. The bridge leads you to another large door. At least three of your height, and two wide. It must be the main entrance. To your left, the path ends soon. At least at first glance, you find nothing more than a short path before a waist-high wall stops your progress. It almost seems like an area made more for the structure to function, with the pillars around.
Your right is different, the path is much longer. With the rain so heavy, it's hard to see clearly, but you make out the threshold of a door, and beyond it is a scalene triangle of stone. Although not clearly visible, by basic logic, it's steps you're seeing from the side.
It's time to decide where to go.
You can even explore all three locations in a single turn if you wish.
Today is a special day because TLOZ turns 40 years old! It's already a mature franchise kek I'm not a fan of 2D Zeldas (I'd have to play ALTTP and see if it hooks me) but it deserves its place, it was quality in its time. And I've seen many say that Zelda 1 is incredible despite the passage of time. I couldn't say, I never tried it. But maybe someday. No idea if Nintendo is going to do anything for this special date, but I am! Same mini-dynamic as last time. Reply to this post in less than 24 hours and win a rare item for each campaign.
Zelda is a saga that, without expecting it, has accompanied me throughout my life. >I'm not a fan of 2D I hope my recommendation is useful to you. If you haven't played it, the Oracles are a gem full of charisma, and I say one because they are actually the same game. Whether you enjoy Seasons first and then Age (that's the order I recommend), they feed into each other, and to fully enjoy them, including the true ending, you have to go back and forth between them.
My favorite race from all the Zeldas, the Subrosians, are in the Oracles, kek. I hope they return someday.
>>1787 Also, about Zelda 1, if you go in with the mindset of trying things (Bombs, fire) on walls and bushes where there doesn't seem to be anything, you can complete it without a guide. Although if you get stuck, there's no problem looking for help online, after all it was a game designed to spend money calling the Nintendo Hotline.
>>1784 Caes, literally and figuratively. You were now lying on the floor with motivation as low as you. Ribbon takes a minute to scream, until she runs out of air, opens one eye and notices she's still flying thanks to her wings.
>Ribbon "..."
She feels very ashamed, looks around, seems like no one noticed. But the relief that this could bring her doesn't last long when she sees you lying down, she gets startled and dives down to be with you.
You aren't just crushed by her presence, but also by her words. A lot of blabbering, as she talks, you get up slowly, as if the floor had glue. Maybe she didn't pay much attention to that, since the little ostentation didn't cause her distress... but once she saw you face to face, almost her heart stopped.
"...Dementia...?"
With her mouth open and eyes almost in fear, she mumbled with concern, a prelude to the confession that would trigger cortisol release.
Merlinus "What did she say?"
Defeat...
(At the worst moment, someone else decides to appear.)
(A new wooden sword and little more. The opposite of Little Red Riding Hood, self-proclaimed eternal rival.)
(And this time, he came only to make you feel bad.)
>Blue Prince
You grumble. The prince remains serious, stomps. The ground trembles and the little guy rises a meter above the ground without losing his posture... but you hear him swallow with that until you're standing there. You point at him with your finger, he gets startled as if a lightning bolt had hit him.
"¡Eep!"
Ribbon "..."
The little one sat down.
"Did we lose, Dementia?" -so that portal was of the time stone-
She asked, and looked at you, and if you looked at her too, you'd see her with that desire to know that a baby has, with those eyes that worry without fully understanding the feeling, only knowing that it's wrong.
And she waited for that answer, or the lack of that answer. And she flew, and hugged your little neck, embracing you, with a great force... not physical. Rather reflected in how much she squeezes her eyes.
"Okay, Dementia... don't be sad..."
She had nothing particular to say. There was no doubt. She simply wanted you to stop being sad. She stepped back, and looked into your little eyes, taking your cheeks as if to appreciate you. As many times you did to her...
"¡Ha-hay... two stones more!"
She exclaimed with a pale face. Seeing you like this hurt her and it was visible in her eyes as if she had a needle through her foot.
"¡We're going to find them!, right? Don't worry... But don't be sad... O-o..."
She sniffs twice with her nose. Puffs her cheeks and turns red, her eyes fill with tears she tries to contain.
(...or she also gets sad...)
I didn't want to just respond to this, but I prefer not to assume things. I owe you a quick turn as soon as you respond to this kek
>>1788 >Perfect! >The items will be added to your inventory starting next turn kek
>Zelda is a saga that, without expecting it, has accompanied me throughout my life. It's always nice when something like that happens. I wish something similar had happened to me, but the closest for me would have to be God of War, which I did start with that saga when I was little, but I abandoned it after 2018 for becoming too cuck I would only play Ragnarok pirated in the future or Metal Gear Solid, but I didn't start that saga as a child. Even so, I have tremendous appreciation for it
>In case you haven't played it, the Oracles are a gem full of charisma I haven't, I've never seriously tried a 2D Zelda. Although I believe you, I've seen a lot of love for the Oracles throughout my life, but I always turned away from them because I wasn't sure if it was my thing.
>they are actually the same game Really? From what I remember hearing, one is much more about puzzles and the other is much more about combat
>including the true ending, you have to ping-pong between the two. And I suppose I can achieve that with an emulator, right? Is it just a matter of the saves?
>My favorite race from all the Zeldas, the Subrosians, are in the Oracles, kek. I wish they would return someday. Keksito the Merlinus Most likely they will return in an obvious remake. I'm sure they'll do one after the Link's Awakening one they did. Reusing them for real after that sounds more difficult. But who knows. Make it happen Aonuma.
>aldo Maple is super adorable
>aldo2 I think several people gave Malon a lot of waifu points in those games, right? keksito, and she was already adorable in OoT
>aldo3 I'll play them then. I'll let you know as soon as I start.
>aldo 4 With what you said at the beginning, I imagine you more than me must be confused that they didn't even wish the franchise a happy birthday for its 40th kek
Nintendo doesn't deserve Zelda...
>>1789 >you can complete it without a guide It must be, as long as there isn't some very bullshit occasion like the muricans say.
>if you get stuck there's no problem looking for help online I understand, I'm anti-guides, but even I have a limit. And sometimes it helps, the last time I used a guide was last year for The Evil Within because I had reached a place and didn't know what to do. I checked the area from top to bottom several times, but I couldn't find anything. I ended up looking it up on YouTube and it turns out the game had glitched and a cutscene wasn't activating. Although I suspected it, I might not have noticed, because even when I loaded my save, the same thing happened. The only solution was to restart the entire chapter.
What a pain. That game had a lot of bugs... but I'm getting sidetracked. What I wanted to say is that there's no shame in it if you've already wasted a lot of time and don't know where to go.
>it was a game designed to spend money by calling the Nintendo Hotline. That's true. And for people to talk about it among friends, and for you to buy the guides...
I guess this is also part of what made the game fun for those who have it among their favorites in the saga. That and, well, for its time it's a surprising game with its map and all.
This post was just to confirm that I will add your items later keksito. I'll respond to the rest of the meta tomorrow or the day after. I'm sleepy.
>>1791 >after 2018 because it became very cuck You have to be a better man, anon.
>Seriously? Not in the same game, I don't mean that it's like the Pokemon versions. But together they are the same experience, to the point that if you don't get both the story is incomplete and you miss out on a ton of secrets.
>puzzles and the other much more combat I can't tell you which is which, kek. The Age one I remember more complicated, those definitely. The connection goes through codes. The oracle who never had her game (Pic) is the one who shows you how to do it. There are some very nice puzzles with that whole system, and yes, you can do it without problem with an emulator.
>remake I hope they put some love into it. Nintendo has been very weak and complacent lately just because they are selling well.
>the merlinus For that Merlinus would have to be immune to lava and know how to dance, kek.
>Malon I had to look it up because I couldn't remember at all that it was in the game, and you can be assured that therefore her role wasn't even close to as prominent as in Ocarina. The waifu of the oracles is definitely Pic spoilers. Although my personal favorite is Pic 3, she goes by the name Melano.
>anniversary For me, don't rush things to fit dates. We've seen with Sonic how catastrophic that practice can be.
>bullshit as they say the muricans Then never try a PC point and click adventure, kek. That's the genre of true barbarities. There are some that are more fair: Monkey Island, Day of the Tentacle, Broken Sword, but the general trend is extreme bullshit.
>guide I'm completing 100% of Cruelty Squad (It's a great game, it's become one of my favorites in the world, although they warned me not to get close to their community). And I go into the wiki to confirm that I didn't miss anything in the levels. As their graphics have a... Hmm, chaotic charm. Sometimes you skip things without realizing. I went through a room about 7 times and didn't realize there was a special weapon lying on the floor. Still, I think all its secrets can be discovered if you spend enough time.
That's another recommendation I leave you, Cruelty Squad. Don't let the ugly put you off. To enjoy it fully you have to enter without knowing too much, it's full of surprises.
>>1786 >Cece She always characterized herself by facing problems head-on, even with fear and worry, Cece's main instinct was to run forward, charging headfirst even if it ended with a bloody nose. But this time her nerves screamed the opposite.
Cece turns her back on danger and escapes with a constant prickling in the center of her chest, as if her heart were trying to escape through her mouth. She doesn't look back, nor does she notice the scratches and scrapes she gets from kicking away branches. She spots a castle and a door, but it's the shadow that intervenes that startles her. More by accident than by controlled action, Cece lets herself fall and slides feet-first in a slide lubricated by all the accumulated mud.
The door closes behind her without her quite understanding how. Sitting facing the sealed threshold, she still tries to back away, pushing with her palms and heels until her back hits something and she remains there, sprawled out between rapid gasps. Only when the radio turns off and silence settles does her heart gradually stop stabbing her from the inside.
Her eyes seem vacant, her skin milky and ghostly. As she gets up clumsily, she needs to hold onto the stone bridge railing to prevent her trembling legs from making her collapse. An uncomfortable warmth forms a grimace on her face, and her lips utter a silent curse. She wants to ignore it, but as she takes a couple of steps, waddling like a penguin, she understands it's impossible.
She takes off her shorts, then her panties, which she holds hanging away from her body between her thumb and forefinger. A warmth permeates the underwear, Cece wrinkles her nose at the sight of it and feels ashamed. She folds it as best she can and puts it in her inventory, perhaps hoping to find a place to dry it. She pulls up her shorts, they are denim, they rub and irritate her skin, but faced with the discomfort, she can only swallow hard.
She crosses the bridge hugging herself. Her eyes dart around restlessly, observing everything with suspicion. The lamppost, the statue, the castle... In another situation, she would have something to think about or say, but now she is barely getting over the shock of the chase. Maybe in half an hour, she'll be calm enough to wonder if she's finally gone crazy like Amélie.
(Or the bus crashed... And now I'm in hell... I was bad, I stole the church's money)
For a moment, she sees Alicia's figure in her mind.
(No... If this were hell, she wouldn't be here... Or would she?)
She shakes her head to avoid rambling further.
The only thing Cece wants now is to have a roof over her head. She'd try the door, or peek through any place that promised her a minimum of shelter. She decides to explore all paths.
>>1793 Terror stains your soul and your body. The traces of the pursuit are scrapes on the skin, and a yellow tint that makes the intimate fabric heavier. You don't want it on, or on top of you. You take it to your inventory, choosing another discomfort.
> Stained panties have been added to your inventory. -wet underwear. Not pleasant to use.
You notice you are carrying another item. Like antimony, you don't remember picking it up at any point.
> winged anklet -An anklet with a wing. It silences your steps. but you have to put it on kek
Your progress is empty. The gaps are filled only with the hiss of the downpour as your helpless gaze wanders through the air, just like those bugs flitting around the lamppost. They only seek the light, but your eyes flee from it to the next possible shadow where evil hides. A statue, immobile, and forgotten. The same as the one in parallel, they are identical from design to oblivion. Harmless brothers beyond appearance and abandonment. Familiar.
The castle. Enormous. So loaded that it's hard to see where to start describing. Mysterious for many reasons... But it was now your only possible refuge.
The door is your main objective. But there are more areas of interest to see... at least the one on your left seems to hide little. You walk a bit until you almost reach the small wall that ends the path. Beyond there is a drop of a few meters, it won't be that high, because trees reach this height. But who knows what's down there, since they don't let you see.
To your right, where a pillar blocked your view, there is a small roof supported by another pillar that goes down from the edge to the foundations. A place built probably out of logic rather than desire. Below it is poorly decorated with two large urns... but they look fragile.
Just in front of them, there is also a cat sitting. Its appearance is simple: adult and white. It was probably sheltering from the rain... But if you got close, it would run between your legs and go back the way you came, scared. You retrace your steps. Perhaps out of simple curiosity, to postpone your entry, or without really thinking too much about it, you walk past the door. You walk a bit, and the space to walk widens, on your left you see window after window, with opaque glass that holds the secrets of the place. You cross a perpetually open door, leaving the rain behind for the second it takes you to cross that small threshold into another area.
Where you are standing, you see some potted plants placed as decoration. There are six. With myrtle, rosemary, and ferns. Average plants. Next to you, a few meters above your head, there is an oriel window, also opaque.
Limiting the path is another railing. You must go around, approaching the castle building to pass through the corridor it makes, which is barely a meter wide and marks its transformation into a balustrade that extends to your right, descending to accompany the stairs leading to the garden.
Taking a few more steps, you are between two staircases. The one that goes up and bends, probably towards the balcony, and the one that goes down, as already mentioned, towards the garden. From your position, you can make out a fountain with a path on each side.
Perhaps you feel like going down. The steps leading to the garden are more treacherous. Wet and mossy. You must not rush, because to hold on, there are only those vines covering the balustrade until they almost hide it. Besides looking weak, you swear you see them move for a second, when you blink, they are still as always.
Once at the base, what stands out is still that fountain. It is large, and its circumference is used to mark a boundary, a path to the left, another to the right. In the middle, the large fountain. It would seem large even if you were an adult. But you don't need to be an adult to notice how neglected it is. Cracks, like all the stone you've seen so far, cover it, as does the abundant weeds. The water it has looks dirty, stagnant. With leaves and some paper floating on its surface. The path to the right disappears into darkness. The one on the left glows when you shine your flashlight on it. You spot a metal door.
Behind you, there's one last thing. Diagonally, a few meters from the steps, stands a tree planted upon a small stone 'stage'. It's a tree with thick, lush foliage—underneath it, not a drop of rain falls. The earlier cat is taking advantage of this, now sitting there relaxed.
It's your decision whether to keep exploring.
Nevertheless, what you wanted most right now was shelter. And as nerve-wracking as the idea might be, entering the castle is the only thing coming to mind now.
You go back to the main door. You can feel the weight it holds just by looking at it—its wood defying time with sheer strength. And you must defy its strength with your own.
You press your palms against the wood and push with all your might. The rusted hinges screech under your effort, slowly yielding to let you through. Once you've opened it wide enough to squeeze in, you cross the threshold and find yourself inside...
https://youtu.be/HiJSGIiAWHc?si=YuTtrAVIdc-2Ca6r▶ A vestibule. The light was dim, coming mainly from the flickering candles of the chandelier hanging from the ceiling—swaying gently but constantly, so high above it made you feel like an insect. At least 20 meters up.
But it was enough illumination to get a general look around. Everything seemed predominantly white with brown and yellowish decorations from times past. This trend showed in the tiles, in a flag on the wall to your left bearing a strange symbol—a triangle surrounded by a circle, which contained a square with another circle inside. In the frames, paintings of a mustached man in a suit who looked important. There were several of them scattered here and there. His narcissism didn't save them from neglect—the canvases looked yellowed.
To your left stood a very beautiful wooden table with a clipboard. Beyond that, nothing but a wall adorned with a decorative shield between two pillars, styled in blue, with an upward-pointing arrow in the center and three crosses. Perhaps the symbol of the clan it belongs to.
Your right side was a different matter. Also between pillars, an elegant wooden door with golden carvings caught your attention. Even the frame around it seemed deliberately crafted to be beautiful—white stone with Greek-column-like lines for emphasis. Doing just as well as that solid gold plate in the middle of fine birch wood. "Music room." At least you don't have to guess what's in there.
But the elephant in the room was the pair of staircases in the center. Both led to the same place, curving up to the second floor, from where you saw a tall, young, and very beautiful woman descending. A little over 20 years old, with snow-white skin and eyes red like an apple—dark, dull red, locking onto you without speaking, her movements coordinated, robotic, like a refined lady.
Dressed in black and white maid attire, she approaches without revealing her intentions, hands clasped in her lap, until only a few meters separate you. She doesn't bother to speak directly. She just observes you, letting the rain and the suddenly turning-on radio be the only sounds for a moment. If you don't put on the winged ankle bracelet, the others can hear the radio
Then the woman bends at the waist, giving you a bow.
>Maid "Welcome, Princess... I've been expecting you... Please, follow me to your temporary room."
She straightens up, and without another word, turns around to walk back up the stairs.
Also, directly ahead—straight from the entrance and right between the two staircases—there's a door, but I didn't see a good moment to include it in the narration kek
>>1793 You walk behind her. if you want, otherwise you can ignore this whole turn closely, you can see that impeccable dress. There is no place for a single lint or wrinkle in its fabric, but at this distance, you notice some old stain that you didn't see before... and that you can't recognize now.
You go up the stairs. The wood creaks, groaning like an old man who can barely do his job anymore, until you reach the second floor, where a wide hallway from left to right greets you.
Once you step on the worn-out carpet, an intense red for a change, you are officially on the 2nd floor. To your left, a long hallway disappears into the gloom due to the poor lighting of the gas lamps. There are door frames. It's what you can see, but the maid doesn't stop for a second and continues on the right, towards a shorter hallway.
Following her, you are observed by portraits of the same man who was downstairs. Those eyes follow you. There's almost no doubt.
There are four doors distributed along the hallway. But she opens the first one on your right and steps aside to let you enter.
>Maid "This is your room."
She waits for you to enter. Inside, it's well lit for what you've seen so far. A fireplace to your right is lit, the wood crackles and gives its warmth to you, to the maid, and to the mustachioed man in the portrait on the side. Between the fireplace and the clock... Him again.
To your left is a somewhat large bed. With pink sheets and pillows and a wooden frame with carvings. Sensual. Further on is a wardrobe, which the maid is heading towards. To the right of her, who is now facing the wardrobe, is a door that probably leads to the bathroom.
"I've prepared clothes for you."
She turns and hands you clothes. Neatly folded. She looks at you expectantly. If you were to unfold them, you would find a dress similar to a princess dress, but one that seemed to leave a lot of chest and back exposed. More concerning was the skirt, which would only extend about a hand's length from your buttocks. At least you could change your underwear, if you didn't mind it being a bit small in the back, although it covers well in the front... Beyond that, you might prefer to look for your own clothes in the wardrobe. "..." -extends their hand- this only if you didn't put on the winged ankle bracelet "give me that." -they demand, hand reaching toward the radio hanging from your chest-
After that, the maid heads back toward the door and opens it without another word, pausing briefly before stepping out completely to glance at you.
"We'll dine soon."
They say, and without another word, close the door.
You're left alone.
Now you can move freely around this floor of black and white tiles. You're the princess in full. The room is divided into two sections. The one already mentioned, and a few meters ahead of the entrance door, two small steps lead down to a more leisure-oriented area—similar to a living room.
If you go over there, you won't find much. A small table and a sofa next to a large, semi-pentagonal window. If you look through it, you'd see rain falling onto planters filled with rosemary, myrtle, and ferns, as well as a fountain much farther off. You can tell this is the oriel from earlier. From this side, it's not opaque.
Behind the sofa meant for reading or sipping tea, there's a small bookshelf reaching up to your waist. It holds a few very old fiction books and a tiny decorative plate scattered between them. Two side drawers for storing more items, and on top it serves as a table—holding an empty case and an old television with a knob and antennas.
...could use a PS2...
But there's no trace of Alice.
Parallel to that TV, a few meters away by the oriel, there's another door. No windows indicate where it leads.
Now you're free to explore the castle.
Hope all this scene description isn't too tedious. I think areas are really important in games like this, so I'm trying to help you get your bearings by describing the layout as best I can.My narration will surely get lighter and easier once you find the map keksito
Dementia doesn't respond, she just blows her bangs. Ribbon understands that the girl is sad and tightens her grip on her hair. Dementia raises her hands and moves the fairy to press and rub her face into her, as if she were her comfort pillow.
"Twe whiefo fuufwo whibbow (I love you very much, Ribbon)" She speaks with her face pressed against the mythical being's belly.
When they separate, the hooded figure sighs. She's still annoyed with herself, but much more composed than with the prince.
"I will have to do something I never expected..." She sweeps her gaze over everyone, her attitude is that of someone determined to do what she never needed before. She clenches her fists and adds. "For the first time in my life... I will train"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jr8AtQiFtTY▶ The hooded figure is like Freezer, all her potential and movements are innate. But after losing and being beaten, she understands that she needs more than that to stop the evils that come her way on the path of the warrior...
Training montage beginsYou decide how long she spends doing this, kek
Dementia runs and descends the temple stairs, first jumping one step with each stride, then three, then five. The figure of the viking becomes a blurry streak that goes from the top to the bottom in just a second.
Dementia does push-ups with Ribbon on her back. Merlinus joins in. Starlow joins in. She moves to one hand. Two fingers. Then it's just breaths that lift her off the temple stones.
Dementia throws a bare hook against the temple wall. The hand swells and trembles, exactly that tremor goes up her arm, her shoulder, and makes her shake all over. She retracts her hand and, without waiting a second, throws another hook with the other hand, repeating and exclaiming a KYA! with each new strike.
Dementia sitting cross-legged under a powerful waterfall nearby. The shine of the sun on the water, the foam that sprays, plus the leaf of Cariñitos leaning against her shoulder and the handle pointing in front of her chest, hide any indecent part of her naked little body. The hooded figure keeps her teeth clenched while the merciless water hits her head.
Dementia in the middle of the forest gripping her axe. She tightens the handle and spins quickly, becoming a whirlwind for a few seconds. When she stops, tripping with the raised leg and almost falling backwards, the firm trunks don't have the same luck and fall cut down.
Dementia, with eyes determined like fire, faces Merlinus and Starlow.
"Make it happen, now! RIGHT NOW!"
She orders the little mage and the cosplayer to shoot their magics at her. The hooded figure wouldn't move an inch, she would just close her eyes and receive the attacks fully, trying to be as firm as a rock, surely ending up rolling and smoking, with Ribbon coming to her rescue.
Dementia standing on top of the temple. She grabs Cariñitos with both hands, lowers the axe to have room to maneuver, and throws a slash towards the sky. She repeats the cuts in the air ¿100? ¿500? ¿1000 times?
The girl of the legends wouldn't be satisfied until showing improvement!
>>1785 >futa-cock It's true... How did they let that pass? I thought it was all-ages... kek At least there she looks better. I hope there isn't too much dissonance between the movie and that design you posted.
>she's heavy category like Bowser. Kek we always end up mentioning that when talking about Rosa Cy, it's just part of her character. Aldo my headcanon is that since she's actually giant, when shrunk down to the usual size she has in the games, she retains some of her original weight.
>Chowder Kek, why not? We should start rumors at the orphanage! Molly would help.
>cuckolded.
So that's why it's called "la noche del chivo"... because of the horns kek
>inevitable. Kek. What times those were, that wouldn't be accepted today with the internet so redditized.
>ancient Spanish! Keksito. There was a super Cervantes fan YouTuber who'd say stuff like that. "Other languages can't make a quijote!"
Based. haven't read it yet kek
>for the era
They were simpler times, when a lady showing her ankle would make grandpa's heart race a thousand beats per minute keksito. Things of the past—back then, monsters made of clay in movies were scary, while today they're just little dolls to us.
>name. I'm not sure how good it is outside that specific poem, which might also be boosted by the book it comes from, since the book is somewhat based on it. If you're interested, it's called "El niño que enloqueció de amor" by Eduardo Barrios. It's more of a short story, which I read while looking for something similar to my "lime orange tree." I don't think it's as good, but it's decent, and short. Maybe around 40 pages if I recall correctly.
>if one desires. Well... yeah. If you want a complete stranger to randomly hug you, then it's not that bad.
>Author She's pretty, but looks like that relationship would hurt kek
>Chapter Ah. Women are always the most degenerate, they write those sexually creepy things because they really like the twisted side of those things. pic related by Itou Hachi, a woman who made a doujin where her self-insert grooms her niece
>Luz Kek. It seems Luz can be a bit scatterbrained when interpreting things.
>Holders Well, I guess you're right. But that doesn't change the fact that it bothered me as a kid because when I read them I imagined the whole scene as someone who wanted to collect them and, being underage, I didn't want to lose obligatorily like that, kek.
>completionist.
Well, it's not that much of a trap if they tell you from the start that you should never collect them all, kek. He who warns is not a traitor.
But yes, although with the info they give you, you shouldn't just be a completionist, but already have your skeletons in the closet. Whoever truly wants to search for the objects should be someone too deep into occultism or perhaps someone who simply has nothing to lose and really needs something to do. Completionism appears to gather the rest, kek.
I always wondered if the one who wrote the last holder gave it any ending. I never took the time to look for it.
>SCP I agree with that. I loved the older entries. As a kid, it was almost like another breath of the magic of the old internet. It made me feel like it was somewhat possible, even if it was so detached from reality.
But if I found that today and saw shit like a shrimp the size of a star, I don't think I would have been fascinated, kek.
>spoiler. Holy macaroni... kek Wherever I look I find something worth mentioning. I wasn't ready for the pill— Hey, look! That's one of the ones Dementia can visit.
>share It's just that we grew up together, he's even more like my little brother, kek. And I'm also happy about what you said, especially because I think watching something with someone makes it much more enjoyable.
>turtle It never bothered me. I can agree that it's very sudden, but that's today. I saw it as a kid, I wasn't going to be super critical, everything seemed epic to me and that's it, kek. >Criticable Seriously? I don't remember perfectly, but it always seemed fine to me. Maybe more because of his overall role than anything else—so much revolved around Ozai. He was more of an imposing character than a charismatic one.
>final I think they struggled to balance the chill episodes with the story ones. I'm not complaining at all because the fun ones were also really good, but as I recall, in the Book of Fire there were quite a few episodes where they had to start thinking about how to wrap things up.
Wasn't it also shorter than the other two seasons?
>dos temporadas Yeah, nobody would've complained.
But at the end of the day, it's still really good regardless. And the fact that you have to dig deep to find possible complaints proves it. Though that's also fine, because you realize that even if there are a few minor things here and there that could've added up, it's still great as it is.
>milagro Seconded. Shame that apparently the creators couldn't replicate the magic of The Last Airbender.
I'll watch Korra at some point, though. But maybe later, when I can watch it in good faith—because if I compare it to the original, I won't like it at all kek
>Iroh. Of course. He's great. It really strikes me how many people say he's awful just because basically he was the same as the Fire Lord before his son's death. Iroh is very interesting.
>Katara That one I didn't expect. Usually Katara gets underrated in the Avatar team—even I've been guilty of that. She's the mom of the group and has interesting arcs, but I struggle to put her above the rest of the team. Though it's not an insult when everyone's high quality.
>op Bloodbending. There was no way to nerf it, so they just couldn't use it kek
>Azula Yeah, I think you mentioned it once. I see the appeal—I like bad girls—but she personally never did it for me. Maybe I just couldn't connect with Azula because as a kid she made me really angry kek Though between her team I would always choose her over Mai worst girlbut not over Ty Lee
>Appearances Doesn't she appear that much? I also remembered she has a decent amount of screen time.
>Sokka Toph deserved whoever she wanted. I liked her with Zuko kek
>animax In Spanish then? That's the first season, my favorite. Pure SOVL but I'd say the 2nd is funnier
>cinema. Kek that one is good, yes. And it has a great theme song. But honestly I think there are several that are quite better. Like the one about the xbox assassin (and others but I'd better not mention them so they take you by surprise kek)
>good Tragic. She deserved much more. But I know it was canceled due to a copyright issue or something. What a pain.
>The sequel Yes, I think it's like the first half and it's going to be completed this? year with part 3
>fetuses Wtf kek
>Black Noir I knew that, but it wasn't the same. I mean in the comic he's a clone of homelander who is stronger because why not, right?
>Homelander Wha
>The other way around No, it must be like that. Comic book Soldier Boy has nothing to do with the chad they made him in the series. In the comic I understand he's a pathetic faggot who even pisses himself or something.
>Soldier Boy Totally second that. They made him too cool kek
>long. Ah well no. I saw the name and imagined a series as long as Grey's Anatomy or something kek
>how the police work Ahh, that's much more digestible kek the Irishman traumatized me.
Then I should check it out. To the backlog! Is crushed by the weight of 5 thousand things piled on this
>experience Well, that makes sense. Maybe when I played it I wouldn't know if you hadn't told me kek
>mods There are always mods for everything. That's the good thing about the community, and it's really lucky because many games need them to work kek
>technology Based. When I reach that game I'm going to copy you on my first run. To see how I do.
>>1795 >>1794 >mona has a physiological accident Cece Her nerves are so taut that, upon barely perceiving a metallic brush against her ankle, she throws herself to the ground and begins to contort and struggle with the air like a worm on a hook. Is it a black widow? A leech? A bear trap? In that environment, she can only expect the worst...
Sitting down, she clutches her raised leg with both hands and observes. She blinks several times upon recognizing the little chain, and frowns upon understanding what it's for. She has no idea when she put it on, maybe she always had it.
If she walks, she won't make noise. It's like an epiphany, or madness, like when she used to play Jason chasing campers. After standing up, she begins to hop repeatedly; anyone who saw her from afar would think she was crazy or covered in ants, but she is testing to see if she makes noise, discovering instead that her steps are silent.
(Magic doesn't exist...)
Nor do giant talking wolves. Cece lets her arms drop to her sides and stands there, head down for a while, again trying to process everything. She takes a step, then another, her walk is almost automatic, and the only reason she doesn't bump into the walls is because she catches them out of the corner of her eye. Her eyesight is top-notch; it allows her to spot the cat immediately.
Still as a statue, she remains observing it back, waiting for it to speak to her or stand on two legs and dance, but not even that. It's a relief. She continues exploring, and as soon as the rain stops falling on her a bit, her legs falter, threatening to collapse, but she takes a firm step forward with which she recovers.
(I can't stay down... It's not safe)
She is distrustful of the tangled vines, fearing they are poisonous, she doesn't touch them. Watching where she places her feet, she eventually reaches the fountain. Cece stops at the edge, leans over the stagnant water, pinches her small nose with her fingers, and exhales hard, releasing snot. Upon reopening her eyes, she sees the paper floating... She pinches a corner and picks it up.
(...Why am I doing this...?)
She knows why; she thinks it might have something important written on it, some childish nonsense.
She could start rummaging, but not dressed like this, not stained with mud, and absolutely NOT with her little thing exposed.
(It's embarrassing! Who would think of going around like this?! GROSS!)
Her thought is almost a complaint, though she doesn't know very well towards whom The narrator. She sits on the edge of the fountain, she needs to rest for a moment and think... Although for the next few minutes her mind goes blank.
>>1794 >>1795 >Cece Grunts and strains, skidding on the floor until her soles get enough grip to give it her all. She opens the door just enough to slip in, she doesn't need much space, she's thin, and she goes in sideways anyway.
The castle's thick walls muffle the sound of the rain until it's gone. Cece pulls down her hood and shakes it, then puts it back up because she's still cold. Hugging herself, she walks forward, the heavy arches and columns making her feel smaller than she already is. She sees the symbols, the painting too... She doesn't pay them any mind.
(This is where some idiot would yell... Anyone home?)
The thought makes her smirk, which vanishes as she tenses up upon seeing the woman coming down the stairs.
Red eyes...!
The devil!
She's about to run, but she has no strength left.
(Don't be a coward!)
She yells internally and her back straightens as if she'd been pricked. She clenches her teeth, her little fists, and raises them to her face, looking like a boxing champion, or rather like a tired brat.
"Princess."
The word the stranger uses throws Cece off. She lowers her fists a couple of centimeters and squints, trying to decipher her.
Maybe it's not the devil, maybe it's conjunctivitis, or maybe...
"Bar... Clay?"
She fumbles with the words.
,,,
There's no need to scorn free lodging. She has many theories, but the certainty of her exhaustion is non-negotiable, so she goes. The maid might feel harassed by Cece's gaze, which keeps scanning her for a tail or perhaps a horn.
The pseudo-hood scrapes its shoes on the worn carpet to get rid of the mud, the fabric was already damaged, and it's on the floor, she didn't think anyone would complain.
(!...!)
Like an owl, she snaps her head back towards the painting. She maintains eye contact for 1... 2... 3... Until the maid notices and urges her to continue. Cece nods, gives the painting one last look, and resumes walking.
She enters the room. The warmth of the fireplace, a big bed, chairs... It's more than she could have wished for. Only one thing is missing... "Can I take it down?" She points to the painting. It's the first time she's broken the silence since the tour began.
She glances inside the bathroom. Turning back, she wrinkles her nose at the clothes. It's not the length that bothers her; her shorts are already unnecessarily short, and she shows her stomach shamelessly. It's the style she doesn't like.
"Little pink princess."
As soon as the maid leaves, Cece rummages through the closet for something more her style. Maybe a leather jacket... with spikes. Or underwear that doesn't threaten to get stuck between her butt cheeks.
The next thing that catches her eye is the TV. She turns it on and adjusts the antenna, hoping to catch something. She also peeks out the oriel windows, wanting to find him... the wolf, or a shadow resembling him.
Although a part of her wants to believe it was all her imagination. A consequence of binge-watching horror movies late into the night.
"I should have asked if Alicia is here too..." She mutters and sighs.
For now, she won't wander around the castle. She returns to the center of the room, takes off her hood, and... throws it over the painting. They might not let her move it, but they didn't say anything about covering it. She sits on the floor, pushes off her shoes with her heels, and then removes her stockings. She tosses the dirty clothes into a corner, including the panties soaked with her shame. She assumes the maid will pick them up... Not even one night, and she's already acting like a spoiled rich girl?!
(If I messed up, they'll scold me later) She shrugs; it's a routine outcome for her.
She also throws off her jacket. The light blue ribbon Amelie gave her deep lore. She pulls it up and takes off her black t-shirt. Finally, she sheds her shorts, letting them hang from her ankle before kicking them into the corner with a karate chop.
Multiple band-aids, and the outline of scratches and bruises, are visible mostly on her limbs. It's a symptom of her rough lifestyle, and she wouldn't be surprised to find new marks from her encounter with the big bad wolf.
As free as God made her, Cece heads into the bathroom, intending to take a shower. Or even better: A bath. It would be the first time if the latter happens.
>>1799 A wing that for your feet is a silencer adorns your ankle with its cold touch, and your mind with its purpose. Your attempt to break the law whispered in your subconscious is futile, your stomps and jumps remain as silent as a falling feather.
Although they say it gets easier as you walk, reality is hard to swallow. Sometimes no matter how much you move forward. Sometimes this doesn't even let you know you're advancing. In your total silence, the proof of your progress would be nil were it not for the walls that appear and activate you just enough to turn, and continue until your figure is caught in the eyes of something else.
The animal returns those eyes full of caution that almost mimic yours. Alert, perhaps like you by the surprises this realm's thousand and one nights hold. Thin, because they share hunger, and alone. You just leave it, and it you...
You face the rain once more. The drops are heavy, they are the burden you drag like a mistreated donkey. A simple leaf, or a small arch offering minimal shelter are an oasis. But where there is a desert of good, you take it as a mirage, and descend into the garden.
The mysterious flora watches you tackle each precarious step with respect so as not to fall. Your shoes soon tread the unkempt grass, which surrounds up to your ankles. Cautiously, you follow the path marked with loose bricks to the large fountain.
You look inside. There is only dark water. With the flashlight pointed at it, it turns greenish, the rain constantly hitting it makes it impossible to reflect the slightest silhouette. The snot you contribute gets lost in the brew as a natural addition to its mixture. What it contains, or how it looks, ceases to be as important as what it raises. The piece of paper catches your attention, you take it with deserved displeasure.
>A torn-out page has been added to your notes
It's soaked, the ink is smudged, but it's legible. Some red stains that not even water could remove are scattered on its flimsy structure. It appears to be a poorly torn half of a book or similar.
>read
It's cut in half but you can make something out.
"Oblivionem Memoriae"
"vocar a Mnemosathar, el"
Below, some symbols. A waning moon orbiting a large cross over a circle. Everything seemed to be surrounded by a kind of black serpent eating something. Another serpent? Itself? It was cut off abruptly at the top, and not by the torn page.
"ágora"
"sangre" -some red stains appear next to this-
"a la invocación veni el mu_" -apparently that was supposed to follow below-
"tatem aeterna"
"menta de [ink stain] a"
...the last part comes with different handwriting and seems to be an afterthought, hastily added due to poor penmanship. It looks like a footnote.
The rest is missing, just as your energy is. You decide to rest. The heavy silence is only broken by the rain, in the stillness your world is little more than this downpour. The stillness here... this night... is unnatural...
...you are alone...
So alone...
1/2
The narrator for Cece is extremely different from Dementia's
>>1800 The claws of the night can no longer follow you beyond the portal, where your castle envelops you.
The rumor of metal above, the smell of dampness, and the echoing footsteps reverberating through the gloom are a prelude to change. The realization that the sound of footsteps cannot be yours is irrefutable proof. You spot that woman, with her millimeter-precise steps, descending the stairs like the moon, pale, distant. So distant that her dusty ruby eyes don't even blink at your hands ready to spread more red on her white skin.
No. With every feature still as a corpse, she bowed to you, her majesty. The princess...
>maid man "No, the economy isn't good. Let me just give an example. If we go... and we put... a Lamborghini factory in your city... can you buy one?"
It's a regular current affairs program. And, in your case, your dad could buy one.
If you changed again, you'd find something... strange. Not strangely bad, but nonsensical. A teddy bear in front of a Flaming Lips album. Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots.
>Teddy Bear "THIS IS THE BEST ALBUM COVER EVER!"
It's the public access channel. Any idiot can make their own low-budget show. And this is... a show about album covers... for kids?
It probably doesn't have much of an audience.
If you changed one more time...
https://youtu.be/LwjDmVt9s1U?si=u-cpG7pGpISYWvSx▶ Alice is lost. Crying, believing no one will find her in this unknown land. She stays, where else is she going to go? And the feeling that she does everything wrong remains... apologizing to everyone for everything.
It's Disney Channel... Unexpected.
If you changed again, you'd go back to KIDS with that horrible bear.
There are only four channels... After all, you were told this was your temporary room. Maybe whoever your permanent room is will have more channels. Papa Barclay should be able to afford it if he can have a whole castle to himself...
>>1800 The oriel. Since it's close, you head towards it to observe... the view you already saw head-on a while ago. The ground below, a space for the aforementioned flowerpots, the garden in the distance, empty and silent. From here you can see a bit beyond the path to the right of the fountain. You see those hedges, or those bushes shaped into forms that have long forgotten if they were animals or something else.
But that path continues beyond what your eyes can decipher. Unlike the one on the left, whose iron gate you can spot again. It's an iron-barred gate in a fence. It only leads to more garden, and that one is again out of your sight.
Today's tree, the one on the stage, is still there. you didn't approach the cat so it didn't head towards this place There's nothing noteworthy about it... or the fountain.
Can all of that be fabricated by a hyperactive mind?
To what extent does suggestion go?
Even if nightmares were real, should you worry while sheltered in this impregnable castle?
Questions so detached from reality are somewhat difficult to answer. It's better to focus on the here and now. Even if this was something completely crazy, you could do nothing but deal with it. You had to change.
But not yet...
...the feeling of being watched...
They say there are many explanations for it. But the attempts to give logic to what is real for you matter little.
Whether it's a kind of sixth sense, or an overly accurate imagination, it doesn't matter. You know when something is watching you I'm confirming that Cece can feel if she's being looked at it's like an unpleasant ghostly tingling on your skin that forces you to turn...
And no matter that what you find is a simple canvas... you can't ignore that atavistic urge... which you decide to drown with your hood, which covers that indiscreet gaze with its red.
...better?
At least a little, right? There are no more eyes to haunt you. This allows you to shed your clothes with the ease that only the solitude of your room can give. Your garments fall slowly. The radio and flashlight remain beside your clothes equippable items; if you put on different clothes, they automatically attach to them
In the mirror of the wardrobe left ajar, a naked girl stares back—marked with fading traces of past fights on one side, scrapes, and very recent haircut scars on the other. The branches cut.
You look small in the mirror. Very small within the giant castle. Tiny, one might say. Fragile, once the barriers fall.
You take—or don’t take—one of the four towels left for you in the wardrobe. You have green, yellow, pink, and blue to choose from. No designs beyond the usual trimmings, and in the pink one particularly, floral embroidery. All of them, without exception, look brand new.
You head to the bathroom. Surrounded by muted colors, you can now see more of what you only briefly noticed before. The sink beside you, beneath the gilded mirror frame with finishes reminiscent of royalty, hides a small compartment underneath. There’s probably something inside.
If you opened it, you’d find the basics: shampoo, conditioner, body wash, sanitary pads you still don’t need… spares in case the others run out. Shu uemura, Kérasate, L'occitane, Starlo—brands you’ve never seen in your life. At the orphanage, there wasn’t even shampoo; if you cared about your hair, you bought it yourself.
Further on, near the bidet, there was another thing you hadn’t paid attention to earlier. Another small cabinet, atop which sits a little wooden pyramid. Splattered stains resembling wire mesh spread across it like a Rorschach test.
Its vintage style might almost make it unrecognizable. But the knobs give it away—and maybe you’ve seen it in some old movie...
(It’s a radio.)
If you decided to turn it on, you’d hear a moment of hopeless static—but soon, it tunes into something. https://youtu.be/lychcEESloY?si=4xe7C35cTBS0dYW3▶ The song is slow and old like the device spitting it out. With the harsh crackle of an old recording accompanying the sweet voice of the crooner as another instrument. The station-changing knob is completely stuck. This is all you'll get from this device.
Now, to what you came for.
You face the marble tub, so immense, and with an aesthetic that screams 'luxury' in every corner. Inside, you find a golden stopper, which you must put in to keep the water in place.
Hot, cold, and a golden handheld shower, used for female pleasure better hair cleaning, or for hard-to-reach places.
You turn on the water. There are two knobs to turn, they are identical in every way, it's hard to know which is cold or hot if you've never used it before.
If you only turn on the left one, the water would fall with steam. If you only turn on the right one, it would be as cold as the rain outside. Now you know. You must control the temperature by combining cold and hot to get the point you desire.
While it fills, you can glance at the wall. A few meters away, to the right of the tub, there are some rounded hooks on the wall, as if to prevent accidents. There are three. You can hang your clothes and towel there, you only the latter once you're naked.
Below these hooks was a small table, which you hadn't seen when looking from the door because it was blocking it. It's close enough to the tub for an adult's arms to reach it from inside. Yours might not.
On top, there are products for a better bath. Perhaps a colorful ball will catch your eye... it resembles a lollipop without a stick. Maybe you'll recognize it from the popularity they've gained recently, it's a bath bomb. And its eternal rival accompanies it: a bottle of bubble bath. Starlo brand.
It's something for children. They say. Even the drawing is a rubber ducky in a bubbly tub.
You never had a bubble bath, nor a rubber ducky. Now you can have both, as there is one on that table too if you wish it to accompany your first bath.
The tub is filling. It's time to apply something if you want. After that, or not, you can get in. Perhaps it will surprise you. Despite your efforts with the faucet, it's a bit hotter than you expected. But you'll have time to practice... it's not that hot either...
Your leg sinks into the water, then the other. And you let the warmth of the running water lick your wounds. It's a little uncomfortable at first, but you get used to it quickly. The little wounds are cleaned with a purity that could only come from a gold-plated faucet... you can sit down.
The heat envelops you. Like a cozy blanket that melts away the cold that had seeped into you... the warm water presses and holds you... in a good way. Like a massage, that presses, and relaxes you.
You can lie down...
>Radio "How lovely... How lovely... Who doesn't have that special someone? That someone we always think about. That's what the next song is about... let's listen to it. Because here on 'Just Yesterday'... We bring you the music of yesterday. No more."
https://youtu.be/8bw5h-WPYBQ?si=pUW91C4fxuGM2AiS▶ Slower, softer... that song is more relaxing. Outside it's pouring rain, but here you are warm. More so than on many nights at the orphanage, nights where a single blanket—the same one, so thin it was used in summer—was all that covered them from the merciless winter...
This tub is more comfortable than your old bed... One might start to wonder about the reason for the existence of tubs. Are they truly for bathing... or just some kind of recreational addition?
Perhaps you should lather up with that soap on the edge to your right. It was still unopened. New... then you could rinse off or something... tubs don't come with instructions.
Or you could just relax. Look at the ceiling. Close your eyes... enjoy this sensation on your body... of the harmonious melody of
Sorry if I said I was going to reply to Dementia next. It's just that I got sick and was feeling so super bad that I wanted to write from Cece's side. You know, something with a more oppressive atmosphere and that kek I'm better now. But I'll be out for a few days because of an exam I have this week.
>>1802 >Pic 2 from Yoshimi Battles the pink robots Amazing album
>>1798 >my headcanon is that she's actually giant Or maybe she's just taller and can make herself giant. In the fairy tale she has her mom (suspiciously similar to Peach) and she doesn't look very big. But it's such an ambiguous case that it's misleading, they'll surely never explain it, like that strange origin of Peach they put in the movie.
>chivo At least in my country it's a term used to refer to a person with power. Hence the phrase: "You have to talk/deal with the chivo that pisses the most." More Venezuelan curiosities at 5 in the afternoon.
>Other languages can't make a Quixote! There's a literature professor on YouTube who also argues the same thing, summarizing his opinion badly: beyond the language, Don Quixote is a product of its time, being a critique of idealism and institutions that, in societies contemporary to the Spanish empire, could not have been created or imagined. Although I clarify that the professor is super pro-Hispanism, so his point of view might be a little biased.
>I haven't read it yet kek Me neither. In a non-ironic way, I would need to learn more archaic Spanish, which doesn't sound bad, it's interesting.
>but it looks like that relationship would hurt If we're superficial, yes, it looks like a manual red flag.
>he grooms his niece And then they call us degenerates when we include harems of shorstack goblinas, anyway, the hypotenuse.
>too into occultism If they existed, and I had certainty of it, I would dive headfirst into investigating them but I highly doubt I would have the courage to achieve it. Besides, there would surely be a lot of false information to catch suckers, governments involved, sects, in short, a search that, although interesting, is made for crazy people, kek. After reviewing a few, the holders as a prize weren't the panacea either.
>I never took the time to look for it. Me neither.
>SCP Maybe this will catch your attention. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RSbPdf3CGD8▶ >it's one of the ones Dementia can visit Dementia: They say Asgard smells like piss.
>I don't remember perfectly, but it always seemed to me that it fulfilled its purpose. The thing is that it's such a good series that when you limit yourself to just fulfilling its purpose, it seems like a mistake. It's very forgettable, especially when you compare it to Azula.
>but if I remember correctly in the Firebending book there were several when they had to think about how to close Yes, but they are several of the best chill chapters of the series, like the one when Aang goes to school, or the one about the theater (Although in this one they tried to create a weird drama/conflict between Aang and Katara that was unnecessary at that point, literally the last chapters). It would have been a shame to miss them.
>I'll watch Korra at some point too Me too. I remember watching the first season as a teenager, but I stopped there.
>someone horrible because basically it was the same as the fire lord before his son's death. He was a general in a war-torn world, fulfilling his mission. Surely in times of peace he would have been a beloved and respected fire lord, but he inherited a conflict. I doubt he was a piece of shit before his son's death.
>She's the mom of the group, and has interesting arcs, but I find it hard to rank her above the rest of the group No idea, I just empathized a lot with her during the rewatch. I really liked her evolution, the challenges she faces, and the lessons she learns, her kindness, and also her fierceness. She used bloodbending once, when she was about to kill a guy she thought was her mother's killer. Of all the characters, she's perhaps the one I'd be most interested in meeting.
>Ty Lee It's impressive the freedom they gave her to animate her in the beach episode.
>I also remembered she has a decent amount of screen time. She's been around since the beginning of the second season, but in my mind Avatar was a longer series than it actually is, so I thought she had more appearances.
>I liked her with Zuko kek But Toph was super disappointed with "her special adventure with Zuko", kek.
>In Spanish then? Yes, I'll add it to my backlog, and I'll take your word for it, I'll ignore the fourth one.
>he's a clone of homelander who is stronger because why not, right? Not only is he a clone, Homelander is good but stupid and it's the clone who causes the evil.
>In the comic I understand he's a pathetic faggot who even wets himself or something like that Yes. But I'll tell you something, I think Soldier Boy turned out cool by accident. I mention it because he's the polar opposite of the writers' mentality and what they defend, and because in Black Noir's and his group's memories, he's a much worse person than when we see him (Maybe the trauma softened him, I don't know).
insulting the original Kratos with the reddit discourse And I think the original Kratos wasn't even allowed to respond, was he? Try not to get angry, first wait for the remakes of the originals.
>at least a tribute image I don't know kek Throws a rom at you for $20 Happy now?
>grim fandango That one is tough. I never finished it.
>first-person shooters. I'm not, I just tried it and liked it. It's more of a stealth and positioning game, the enemies are so aggressive that it's very difficult to face them without having a clear path to defeat them.
>Like Duke Nukem 3D Or the classic Dooms. Exactly.
>I don't know if you saw that I already bought Civilization 3 Ayyy, I didn't see it. Remember that, when you learn how to play, install the CCM3 mod, it's a gem and adds tons of content besides changes to the mechanics that speed up the game and make it superior (For example, settlers and workers are created automatically, it seems like a silly change, but it transforms the dynamic and balances it a lot)
I'm opening Steam to see what you're referring to. I didn't lie when I told you I don't usually use it much.
>>1801 >>1802 >Cece The damp grass started on her ankles, she leans down and scratches with a roughness that leaves nail marks on her skin. After probing the source, she unpleasantly picks up the paper floating in the stagnant water. Her hunch was not wrong: It has something written on it.
(...)
But that doesn't help her, she doesn't understand the handwriting.
(Blood... Invocation... Seems like witchcraft)
She doesn't read it aloud, because:
(Evil Dead, 1981, directed by Sam Raimi, starring Bruce Campbell)
"Groovy..."
Her groovy came out watery, her shoulders slump under the weight of exhaustion, loneliness, so much loneliness. She wants to cry.
(...!)
Cece brings her knuckles to her mouth and bites hard, until she tastes blood and a couple of tears spring to her eyes, making her shudder and snap out of it. She stops biting, looks at her fist, saliva highlights the bitten area, red.
She sighs. Is physical pain preferable to emotional pain? At least in this moment, it is.
...
The confirmation of the last name evaporates the veil of dark fantasy that was oppressing her, and makes her doubt her experience with the big bad wolf even more. Maybe it was the nerves of the adoption, or maybe she was just daydreaming.
(But... Alicia would never leave me alone... Right?)
There is still much that bothers her, the absence of Alicia, the ghost of a look, that everything seems so old...
Now in the bedroom bathroom, Cece turns on the bidet, leans down, and makes a duck face to drink from the stream. She mistook it for a drinking fountain, although she found it strange that it was placed next to the toilet.
(Rich people stuff)
She also opens the shower curtains, singing in her mind:
She blushes upon realizing her own behavior. Fortunately, no one is watching her.
She leaves the bathroom to continue exploring the room. There's nothing in the closet that tickles her fancy, nothing with punch, with punk. Only one garment makes her eyes pop. She grabs the summer dress and brings it to her nose, inhales deeply until she runs out of breath. It's nothing perverted, she wants a confirmation of smell...
(Alicia?!)
She throws it on to check, if the bust area was too loose, there would be no doubt...
I'M BACK AND I PASSED! It's time to catch up on everything. YEEEPIIIIII. Tomorrow, tomorrow. I'll start tomorrow kek. I need a little break tonight. But I'm back.
>>1802 >>1806 >>1803 >Cece Cece's big eyes stare at the screen, the sky blue of her vacant gaze colored by cathode rays. She has only one thought:
(There's no Netflix...)
She flips past the baby channel, to the channel of the old man talking about old things, to the album channel. Cece blinks without changing her expression; she's at an age where she should like music, but not at an age where she's passionate about album covers. She keeps turning the dial and...
Alice...!
In Wonderland.
Cece almost loses her breath; the static for an instant made her look like the Alice she knows. She stays listening to the scene, clenches her little fists, and looks at her feet.
(I know it's better to do everything wrong, anyway, people never expect good things from you)
She turns off the TV.
A young woman stares at her reflection in the mirror. Eye contact is eternal, and it doesn't break even when she raises her arms to flex and show off her biceps. The muscle doesn't rise much... She drops her arms to her sides with force, her palms clapping against the contour of her thighs.
"Are you talking to me?"
She questions her reflection in a demanding tone.
"Are you talking to me?" She shakes her head, pretends to look both sides of the room. "Well, I'm the only one here, so you must be talking to me."
She's a tough girl.
She grabs the pink towel and heads to the bathroom. She puts the plug in the tub, and turns on the cold tap, then the hot, testing until she leaves both knobs in the ideal position for a satisfactory mix of temperatures.
She explores the compartments, finds shampoo and shower gel, and doesn't know the difference between the two. So many products seems excessive to her, when liquid soap used to remove grease from dishes was enough for her.
She climbs up to turn on the radio. She wants to play another song in her style, but the knob doesn't turn. She leaves it and steps back. She takes off the towel to hang it on a hook on the wall.
"YUCK!" She sticks her tongue out to one side and extends her hands to the other, pulling without looking at what she thought was a jawbreaker. The sphere lands in the tub and begins its bubble magic, making Cece realize what it really was.
She slowly submerges her little body into the warm water foam, first up to her knees, holding onto the edge of the tub and arching her back upwards, keeping her buttocks an inch from the water. If something pricked her, she'd jump so high she'd hit the ceiling lamps... Luckily, there are no spikes. She lowers her hips, shivers as she sinks her waist and the bubbles caress her above her navel. Her grip loosens, the tension filters out, she sits down. (Not... bad)
She closes her eyes and begins. She rubs her legs, leans forward and scrubs between her toes.
(Is this kinda like floating in your own juice?)
An intrusive thought that doesn't ruin the experience. She washes her arms, her chest, her neck. It hurts to untangle her hair with her nails, maybe the cheap dye is damaging it. She doesn't know if she should use the shampoo now, or before rinsing off the soap with the handheld shower... She opts for adventure, pours shampoo into her palm and rubs the substance into her hair. Using the soap, Cece's hands are especially attentive to her crotch, more so after her little accident.
At some point she's no longer interested in cleaning herself, she reclines on the waterbed and threatens to fall asleep. Maybe she'll drown, but she's so comfortable she doesn't care.
Click.
Cece's eyes snap open. Her reaction is instinctive, she grabs the edge and pushes with her legs, jumping up and sending foam flying. As she lands, her little feet dance against the floor because of how slippery it is, but her hand on the edge of the tub manages to keep her steady, just in time to face the shadow by the door.
It's only a blink, but it's enough to make Cece's heart race. It takes her a few moments to notice the music, and another moment to recognize where she's heard it from.
(The Shining, 1980, Stanley Kubrick)
She turns slowly and eyes the radio with narrowed, distrustful eyes. She approaches, stands on tiptoe, and turns it off. Now in silence, she sighs. She looks at the tub still full with a dull longing, the fleeting moment of relaxation made her aware for the first time that she lives almost tense, like an animal in constant pursuit.
(Although sometimes...)
Sometimes she's Roja, and Roja is a hunter. But sadly, in Napoleon's absence, she hasn't felt as Roja as she'd like for a while.
Cece tests the shower taps for cold water, gets under to rinse off, then takes a few moments to dry herself with the towel, and returns to the bedroom to decide what to wear.
She makes a deal with the lingerie, chooses a color that doesn't get dirty easily, black.
(Nothing to be ashamed of, no one will see it anyway)
She grabs the white cardigan, a blue skirt, pantyhose, which are sure to be there, some sneakers. With the linen shirt she has to be more creative, she tears the sleeves off with her teeth. She picks up Amelie's ribbon from the floor, and finally retrieves the hood.
>>1808 My next response will be for Dementia, but, just to confirm: Do I take this as Cece leaving the room? If so, through the door that leads to the second-floor hallway or through the other one on the left when facing the oriel? That one leads to stairs that go down to the outside of the castle. Where you already went. The stairs I mentioned that go up, near the ones that lead to the garden.
Or do I take it as she waits? Because that's another option, just killing time in the room until she's called for dinner. She can even sleep or something.
I'm just asking so I don't assume anything on my turn and so I don't give you one just by saying something like: What will you do now? Although there is a small additional event in the room that also comes in the next turn.
>>1809 Depends: >if pseudo-confirms that the dress is Alice's Grabs her hood, goes out the main door of the room and checks the bedrooms in the hallway. >if he suspects nothing Stays in the room and lies down on the bed for a while, spreading his arms and legs like a starfish.
>>1796 You take the fairy, she lets out a single whimper when you move her, and you use her belly as a shield from the pain. She receives you with her arms around your little head, clinging to you just the same.
Her little body is small and soft. So soft that you can sink your face into it like cotton and think she has no bones. It's your safe space, just for you. Even if she smells like pee...
>Ribbon Level +1!
...
You have nothing on your back. Oh, wait. Yes, those three...
"108, 109, 110!" >Merlinus "Centum undecim, centum duodecim, centum tredecim."
>Ribbon "What? Don't use another language!"
>Sturlu "Potato!" -the word with p...-
>Ribbon "Huh?!"
Maybe they weigh something with one hand. A hundred. Maybe if you use your non-dominant hand. Another hundred. Maybe with one finger. A hundred. Maybe if you just exhale. A hundred. No, for you, having these isn't much different from carrying nothing. And push-ups alone cost you as much as breathing.
>EXP +25%
"GO DEMENTIA, YOU'RE THE BEST!" -she cheers, waving her little arms with pompoms in her hands even though you're not making any progress-
>Sturlu "YEEEEEAH, YOU CAN DO IT, YOU CAN DO IT!" -she waves a foam finger with your face drawn on it, just as bad as you look on wanted posters-
>Merlinus "Yes." -at least he agrees-
Your heart beats strongly.
>LEVEL +1!
The temple, impregnable, with walls stronger than the entire mountain, rises before you. You face a wall. The vines, as dense as your arms, only gave it an extra layer of protection. They were the perfect punching bag.
You throw your first punch without hesitation, drilling through several layers of roots and vines before driving your knuckles into the divine rock. Both the temple and the mountain tremble as if you've caused an earthquake, your companions -even Ribbon who was in the air- stagger from the jolt.
>Ribbon "W-w-woooah"
>Merlinus "!" -falls to the ground on his butt-
>Sturlu "Aaa! wawawawa!" -waves his arms like hurried windmills to try not to fall, then, the only foot giving him support fails him in what looks like an upward kick- "WAAAAAH!" -falls backward, legs in the air-
Even you were not unaffected. Your arm looks like an electrocardiogram, vibrating until it reaches your body. You lift off the ground for a second, your head making a cymbal sound before you land again. Now with more determination despite the blush your knuckles gained. You throw another punch.
BOOMBAM
You clear another row of vines and instantly continue the combo with another punch. Your hands become invisible, but the impacts and flames persist. Everything around you moves in an artificial earthquake, but the wall won't yield. You grit your teeth, strain your arms, your biceps bulge, veins pop around your entire arm, and your fists slam against the wall once more in an attack so fast it seems to impact like dozens of fists at different points on the wall.
CRACK
You hear a crunch. The wind rumbles and a crater larger than you forms in the wall before every trace of vegetation covering the temple shatters like simple glass.
You lower your hands, victorious over a now clean temple. But as you turn to share the triumph with your companions, you find them all lying in a pile from largest to smallest. Sturlu with his face stuck to the floor, Merlinus lying on his back face up, and Ribbon sprawled on his stomach as if seasick.
>Ribbon "I need another diaper..." -he mutters as quietly as he can-
>LEVEL +1!
...
(The water fell on Little Red Riding Hood. Stronger than a hurricane, ancient training like Aldebaran.)
(Or maybe not so ancient, but- LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD?!, WHY AREN'T YOU WEARING ANY CLOTHES?!) The water wasn't really as strong as you might expect. At this point, even if the waterfall was perhaps the most powerful you'd ever seen - thanks to the average in the magical world usually being top-tier in Midgard - it felt barely like a massage. If you were generous, because a massage would require much more pressure, even if it were a relaxing one.
>Sturlu "Is she bathing?"
>Ribbon "I don't know..."
>Sturlu "I don't know either... I've never bathed."
>Ribbon "Ah..." -Sturlu still makes her a little uncomfortable after everything that's happened, she doesn't want to talk to him much-
You weren't looking to be here to appreciate anything, but your hearing is as special as the rest of your being. And once you deprive yourself of sight and meditate, you can almost taste the sound.
The current of the waterfall hits the body of water that stretches before you just a leap away. A characteristic bubbling caress of purity that you can inhale. It smells of green. The birds love it, you perceive it in their joyful and varied songs, the trill from here sounds like harmonic whistles, the one from there is a warble that sounds like the voice dances in the bird's throat. Even the breeze has a voice, it's a weak puff with which Mother Earth tries to soothe you.
You think you can hear a petal opening and becoming a flower.
You can hear the Earth...
And she can answer you.
You can hear your heart... filling with this connection.
>♡
You float in nothingness. Your soul has returned. And you understand, somehow, that the Earth, though faintly, resonates with you.
>[Your soul is now closer to the Earth]
Once you open your eyes, you would see the other three looking at you. Sturlu strangely calm. Ribbon, with a certain surprise... or concern on her face.
>Ribbon "...Are you okay, Dementia?"
...
https://youtu.be/p44G0U4sLCE?si=z-gvb5FXSY_XKFlz▶ You take a turn in the depths of the forest. You become a carousel for your sharp companion, spinning at full speed. The leafy forest doesn't even notice your actions until you stop, and you plant yourself firmly, ending up as the last thing planted when you create a new clearing in the forest. ...you could already do that.
>EXP +25%
...
Initiate combat! Again, behind you, only Ribbon, again, as enemies, Sturlu and Merlinus. This time, the latter wasn't acting.
>Ribbon "I'm not sure about this, Dementia..." -she's nervous-
>Merlinus Sturlu "FIIIIRE, FIIIIRE!"
>Ribbon "EEEEEEK!" -she waves her arms like crazy- "DEMENTIAAAA!"
RIBBON USES CURE (X2): +3HP, +3HP
The fire dies down, and you can stop spinning. The pain is gone, as if it never existed... but as you sigh, you let out a ring of black smoke that reminds you it happened.
>Ribbon "D-Dementia...?, Are you okay...?" -she approaches you with her lower lip sticking out, she was very scared. Enough to not even notice that her healing had improved a little-
>Sturlu "Ah. I can't use my magic." -she just realized-
>Ribbon "Huh?"
>Merlinus "I can." -she creates another fireball in her hand-
>Ribbon "NO!" -she points a finger at him-
Truthfully... You've taken worse hits.
>EXP 50%
...
https://youtu.be/B_Nw-X3Qsyc?si=2sbVquq6U7ljjgoC▶ The sky had darkened. The relentless rain fell as far as your eyes could see. But you didn't stop because of the bad weather. Your arms had gone down and up, again and again. As if Cariñitos was the trophy you raise with all the frustration accumulated after years chasing gold.
You cut the rain. Each upward slash causes the raindrops around you to scatter for a moment before falling again, drying you with the wind you produce with each stroke.
And so, again and again, you silenced the downpour. Hundreds of times, without anyone being able to count more than you... there were no changes...
Until she ascends with her adorable flight, the plump little fairy who accompanies you from the air.
>Ribbon "D-Dementia..." -she speaks to you, protected by a useless little leaf she holds over her head- "you did very well... Let's go"
It had seemed like a plain hour to you. You sure did a lot in that little time. The magic of montages... now, after being renewed, your team accompanies you to the start of the stairs, preparing to descend, because at your team's pace, and with how high they were, it would take them a few hours if you didn't help.
>Ribbon "Are you ready to go, Dementia?"
You were faster, stronger, and who knows, maybe a little meaner. You could descend like a legendary girl who deserves her title more.
>Merlinus "I'm ready." -he confirms, prepared to receive orders when needed-
And the little journey to the foot of the mountain begins.
https://youtu.be/ldY0LriMc6U?si=KPw1SFk8zAxXhSDD▶ You descend the stairs, as a team. Ribbon flying behind you, Merlinus straight with both sleeves of his robe joined, Sturlu with long strides and exaggerated movements with his arms and legs reminiscent of DiCaprio.
The descent is calm, there's a little bird flying around, some pleasant breeze over there. And little else to highlight, it would be best to pass the time while you descended.
>Ribbon "Hey, Dementia..." -she speaks to you- "I think we're going to have to walk a lot now..."
>Sturlu "A lot?"
>Ribbon "A whole lot..." -but she doesn't walk-
>Merlinus "It doesn't bother me."
>Ribbon "I-it's not about whether it bothers you..."
>Sturlu "A whole lot?"
>Ribbon "Yes! Uh- Where was I...?"
>Sturlu "On the stairs!"
>Ribbon "No- I mean yes- but-"
>Merlinus "It bothers you."
>Ribbon "Uh... No! It's tiring. It's tiring."
>Merlinus "It doesn't tire me."
>Ribbon "Ugh..." -she rubs her face with her hand, she has no patience with this diaper- "I just wanted to suggest we get a cart to travel in!" -she exclaims, extending her arms and legs-
>Merlinus "Alright."
>Ribbon "But you don't decide that!"
>Sturlu "What is that?"
>Ribbon "It's-"
>Merlinus "A death cart."
>Ribbon "Huh?, No!"
Did that seem okay to you?
... They eventually come down, Ribbon gasps, Sturlu drags his arms as if he were a puppet. The little mage seemed to be fine, he had a bit more stamina, not as much as you, you had already seen his limit today. And that was before your training.
As soon as they reach the foot of the mountain, they find the prince charming still lying on the ground like Peter Griffin, trembling a little from the pain. Ribbon looks at him with some concern, Sturlu also leans to one side from behind you to look at his deplorable state. It's not that you measured the consequences before doing that, you simply acted, it was a difficult moment. No one is going to judge you.
>Sturlu "What happened to him, did he fall off the mountain? Hahaha" -well, he was knocked out- Ribbon glares at him-
>Prince charming "...chi..." -he lets out as a weak response-
>Sturlu "Hahaha" -Ribbon glares at him even more, Sturlu seems to feel it-
>Ribbon "..." -she looks at you seeking approval- "Should I heal him, Dementia...?"
The houses, all destroyed. Not like the wolf breaking roofs and some walls. The dwarves' homes had become little more than rubble. Ribbon looks on in horror, and Sturlu without knowing what expression to make... But your immediate attention would be stolen by the fire, the size of a small house, which now occupies the place of Sindri's forge.
If you were to approach and look, it would be like seeing a bonfire. The old man's house is burning, and then you see him, sitting on his anvil, also burning... but calmly.
>Ribbon "EEEK!, DEMENTIA, HE'S BURNING!"
>Merlinus "Fire magic..."
>Sturlu "..."
>Sindri cough cough "girl..." -he says, his vocal cords barely functioning, his face hidden under dense flames- "Did you overcome the temple...? Hehe..."
The final doubt of a dying dwarf.
2/2
Sorry for taking so long. I did my best to make the turn worthwhile. You know, you can check all the areas you want at the same time. Here's the map, although there's not much to see, the mine entrance has collapsed, and the X's represent the destroyed buildings.
>How did Dementia level up? I'll give you the stat recap this afternoon because I have things to do now. But she's gotten very strong kek
>>1811 >>1812 >Dementia The stairs are broken and twisted, they shed pebbles, and on many of them you can see the imprint of the hood's soles. Dementia went up and down so many times she could use the stairs without looking, and that's exactly what she does, her gaze lost in the distance, her mind focused on remembering the sensation that assailed her under the waterfall. It was strange, also pleasant, and made her feel capable of reaching out and touching any corner of the world, as if everything were one.
"Huh...? What were you saying?" She reacts and looks over her shoulder at the chatter of her group, who surely noticed she was a bit spaced out. "I'm just thinking about what I felt underwater... It was like... If I could hear them breathe, and the earth winked at me. Does that make sense?"
Probably not, but it doesn't matter, she's satisfied with what she achieved. She feels stronger, faster, tougher, more... Legendary. Her current self would have beaten up her self from an hour and a half ago.
"Ribbon can heal better now! And Merlinus threw those fireballs almost as if he wanted to turn me to ash."
The only one who didn't improve was Sturlu, but when Dementia found out, she let out a shrill "HA!" as if the fact were no big deal.
"Bah, your powers weren't that good anyway... We'll get you others, something you're really talented at."
Ribbon has an idea: a carriage. The fairy flies, but her little wings get tired, and the other two have short legs. The members of her gang are far from the pinnacle of maneuverability...
"A little more speed to get places wouldn't hurt... Grrrrr!" She slams on the brakes, stomps her feet, and starts pulling her hair. "If we had the gem... We wouldn't need a carriage!"
The whole affair brought her to remember her failure, it wasn't Ribbon's fault to recall it, the brain synthesizes some ideas with others, it's an involuntary phenomenon. The hood needs her faithful cuddle, and she extends her arms expecting it, smiling as she buries her face in her baby... And stops smiling as she smells a certain scent.
"We need to get another diaper soon." She whispers, low enough so neither Merlinus nor Sturlo can hear.
...
Dementia sighs seeing the prince in such a deplorable state. Someone who aims to defeat her shouldn't be so fragile.
"If we leave him like this, he'll die... Heal him, Ribbon, and let's look for the others too."
She finds what she expected. Fire, destruction, Starlo already mentioned it, claiming she was the one who did it. She didn't entirely lie, she's responsible for not hurrying, but above all for being unable to defeat Starlo alone. Near the burning blacksmith shop, they find one of the dwarves burning. The question makes the hood lower her face.
"We got past the temple... But we didn't get the stone. I'm sorry."
She confesses. Afraid of a potential resentful look, Dementia jumps with all her might, ascending like a rocket into the sky... But not without looking, the hood pointed at the storm clouds that she split with Caresses If the village has a well or river nearby, she would opt for the simplest and most logical solution, but if not, she would continue with this, kek.
Inside the dark cloud, Dementia would suck, filling herself with the storm water, her stomach inflating as if it could hold the entire ocean. She falls, landing with bounces like a water balloon, but without bursting. The hood spits a strong and prolonged stream of water onto the mushroom-houses, and onto the dwarf too, trying to put out the fire.
>>1806 >>1808 A drinking fountain. Small like the toilet, it catches your eye. You could drink a little. You crouch down and discover it has three taps, one marked blue on the right, red on the left, and one black in the middle of both.
Once you crouch down, because the bidet is so low, and turn on one of the taps. Water shoots out of a small drain like a geyser that hits you right on the bridge of your nose, between your eyes. It soaks your face and forces you to close your eyes, or to discover that this mysterious tap between the other two controls regulates the force of the stream.
If it didn't dampen your spirits, you could try again. With the stream regulated, it leaps and falls in a parabola like a fountain, allowing you to taste the water. It's water. Although with a slight plastic taste, it suffices to quench your thirst.
The shower invites you to play a little, you use the air to stab the air. Lately stopping yourself upon gaining consciousness. This is a bit embarrassing.
(Yes.)
But the thick walls keep the secrets, which are lost forever within their old stones.
Perhaps there are skeletons in the closet. Opening it, you see simple white fabric that is seared into your memory and pricks you so much that you pick it up and smell it.
You inhale deeply, your nostrils pressed against the fabric. Devouring the perfume it had soaked into. It was a scent of cleanliness, a scent that envelops you, of sweet patchouli...
The garment had been washed recently. But your nose was more sensitive than usual... and at the bottom of the dress, your keen sense of smell can barely detect subtle notes of yogurt peeking shyly through the aromatic thicket.
You try on the dress. It's long on you. You lacked a little height to wear it, but especially, even with clothes... you lacked chest.
>>1810 The hallway extends in front of you again. If you walked a little to the left, you could see under the gaze of the painting, the maid finishing cleaning the mud with a plastic shovel and a hand broom.
But what interested you now were the other rooms. To your right, the hallway extends, with three more doors on either side of the wall. Two and two, not parallel, but separated diagonally. And now that you look closely, with your flashlight, you notice there's one more. At the end. On the wall where the hallway ends.
The closest to you, given this diagonal layout, is the first door on the left. You move in your unnatural acquired silence to the door and stand before it. You push the thin wood and it opens without any problem.
The glimpse from the doorway lets you see a spacious area, similar in size to yours. But without an extra space for the living room.
It was a large room, with the main attraction being a large round table under an elegant, immaculately white linen tablecloth. Two chairs in parallel gathered the air to enjoy the surprise hidden in a plate covered with a gleaming silver cloche. And a half-drunk glass of red wine.
The smell inside was strong, and to your sharpened nose, worse. The spices penetrated your nostrils like drills, some stronger, others weaker. Together, potent. Still. You could smell rosemary, saffron, cinnamon, and even some vanilla. It combined with cedar wood and some metallic notes. It was a plethora of almost overwhelming smells in your state.
Further on, in things you could see only from the doorway... a wardrobe at the back from where you are, a Tiffany lamp to your left. It was on a nightstand, and it dimly illuminated everything with its abstract patterns now that the silver candelabras have their candles extinguished. Next to the nightstand is a bed. Large, with a white wooden frame and gold engravings. The sheets it has are black as night, made of the finest silk... all of this was observed by the painting of a man, who looks like a thin chef holding a bowl of sauce with a smile. The first time it's not the man with the mustache, and it's positioned a bit above the pillow, on the wall next to the bed.
To your right, on the wall opposite where you are looking, you find a large bookshelf, filled with books.
You don't find the bathroom door; one could assume it's on the wall next to the closet at the back.
Perhaps you could find more things if you went inside.
After observing inside, or not, you can try the next door. Diagonally to this one, to the right. You put your hand on the doorknob and turn. And turn. And turn. The latch rattles without giving you passage. It's locked.
The last door on the sides, diagonally to this one to the left, might be of interest to you as well. You open it... and an unbearable smell of dust hits you.
The room is completely dark; you must use the flashlight to check, finding then... nothing.
It's a 3x3 room. No windows, no lighting, no bathrooms. Only a single bed, without sheets, without pillows, and a world of dust from someone living in abandonment.
...
Only the door at the end of the hallway remains, you open it. It's a space, also without lighting, where cleaning supplies seem to be kept. You see a large bucket, with a mop inside, a broom... some cleaning products on the floor. Bleach... you can't ignore that there's also a barrel in the middle of everything.
A barrel. Yes... made of wood. It stands out among the other things for having little to do with cleaning.
You hear footsteps, your radio starts playing again. The maid is returning with the things she took to put them back in this small closet after finishing cleaning.
>Maid "If anything needs cleaning, I'll take care of it, princess."
She announces, assuming that's why you're looking at this small closet with cleaning supplies. Also confirming your theory, she will clean anything you dirty. 2/2
>Dementia has learned: Multi Dementia! -Run so fast you create other yous to fight! (2 DT per speed clone. No limit beyond your DT. They use their own dice, if you're lazy I can roll for you for each clone as long as you don't blame me for bad mememagic kek)
>Dementia has learned: Earth Skill 1! -(Ask the Earth for help and heal half your HP. It doesn't cost DT, but it recharges every 5 turns.)
>Dementia has learned AQUA! (3 DT. Weak water magic kek)
>BONUS! Roll 4 3-sided dice to increase the stats you want Or one 12-sided die to increase a single stat.
>>1814 >>1815 >Cece Cece is a girl full of determination. A troublesome drinking fountain and a soaked face won't make her give up quenching her thirst. She manipulates the handles until she gets a perfect parabola of water, ideal for dipping her lips and sipping. She has to get on her knees for the task, and to herself she wonders who in their right mind would place a device like that so low and next to where one pees.
(I don't lack breasts, Alicia has too many)
She appears a bit defensive about the looseness of the dress, but more importantly, she confirms that her adoptive sister is in the castle.
(It's strange she didn't even show up to see me...)
She remains staring blankly into nothingness.
(Maybe now that she's rich, she's changed...)
It's a possibility. Cece doesn't know whether to play it tough and say she expected it, or to hang her head under the weight of betrayal. She doesn't decide on either of those stances, she prefers to find Alicia first and have her explain why she left her alone...
On the bench...
In the rain.
...
Cleaned by the bath and dried by the towel, Cece makes concessions with the wardrobe to be able to dress... Except for the slippers, because her athletic pair remains ideal despite the mud stains. She pulls up the hood and is ready to explore, but the sight of a thingy on the wall stops her and floods her with uncertainty.
(It's a... Huh...? A... A what?)
She frowns, rubs her temples with her fingers in circles, opens and closes her mouth like a fish, searches for words to describe it, and not finding them, feels terribly stupid.
(I don't give a damn!)
She punches the rectangle with the lower part of her fist, meaning with her fingers out. Being able to hit the red thingy relieves her and makes her feel more confident with her upcoming steps.
GAME SAVED.
...
She goes out into the hallway and closes the door behind her. She looks left and right, spots the maid, but Cece doesn't need a nanny. She moves to the next room... It stinks! The orgy of spices almost numbs Cece's little nose, which she has to cover with her hands. She enters, lengthening her steps, her big blue eyes scanning every piece of furniture and every shadow. She arrives in front of the circular table, the sight of the covered plate stimulates her imagination.
(A severed head!)
Holding her breath, she removes the lid. If there are no decapitated heads, perhaps there are other striking elements in the room.
(Books) She pulls out and shoves back various volumes from the shelf at random, not because she's picky about reading, she's just testing if there's a secret passage. If she saw a book of Alice in Wonderland, she'd borrow it after the following conclusion:
(They made a book out of the movie)
Finished there, she moves to the next room. She pulls the doorknob with both hands, it doesn't budge, but since it's an old lock, Cece peeks through the keyhole... The act reminds her of an urban legend, and she prepares her pricking pinky finger in case she sees only red.
Finished there, she moves to the next room.
(I'm a room-examining machine)
She faces the dust and gloom. The flashlight allows her to see beyond the neglect. It seems empty outside the bed, but a curious impulse makes Cece stretch out a foot... Which she then retracts. She shakes her head, those dilapidated rooms are an absolute red flag.
She closes the door and continues her inquisition, which leads her to the cleaning closet. Her gaze lands on a barrel, which makes her raise an eyebrow, because a barrel there isn't normal... Or is it?
(I bet that's where the previous adopted daughter's corpse is... Like in the movie Megan)
Cece fidgets, remembering Megan is Missing. She's about to check, but the maid startles her.
"Ah..." She calms herself. She turns her attention back to the barrel, then to the maid, and back again. It doesn't seem like they're going to stop her, she goes in and carefully removes the lid to look. Curiosity satisfied, Cece replies to the woman.
"You don't have to call me princess... Call me Cece... Or..." She was about to say Roja, but it makes her uncomfortable that an adult is talking to her like a friend. "You should tell me your name too..."
Cece scans the woman from head to toe, like someone looking strangely at a contemporary art piece. She has a wild idea.
"That room is full of dust. I want to see inside it, are you coming with me?"
(Maybe I shouldn't trust her so much... But... She'll be the one washing my panties, so...)
She points her gaze at the dark room. The place is still a red flag, but if a monster or a hockey-masked killer jumps out... It would be two against one.
"Do you know where Alice is? I want to see her," she adds, and if she's asking. "Did you happen to see a bat...?"
Napoleon's absence continues to make it difficult for her to feel Roja's strength.
>Merlinus "We're going to get the cart. And we're going to make it kill."
>Ribbon "Nobody is going to make the cart kill!, This joke has gone on for too long!, And Dementia decides that!" -whether to get it or not- "What do you think, Dementia?"
(The fairy asked, but Little Red Riding Hood didn't answer. Lost in her thoughts, she almost made Ribbon lose her breath.)
"D-Dementia...?"
>Merlinus "She's not talking."
>Ribbon "I know!"
>Sturlu "Then why do you ask?!"
>Ribbon "Huh?!, That doesn't make sense!"
>Merlinus "It does make sense." -no, it doesn't-
>Ribbon Merlinus "She's not hurt." -thinking of physical pain-
>Sturlu "Nopodopo." -wants to figure it out-
>Ribbon Merlinus "She said... Under the water." -not under the waterfall-
Ribbon just gives him a annoyed glance.
>Sturlu "Water." -Ribbon ignores him-
>Ribbon Sturlu "Ehhhh... I don't know."
>Ribbon She gives him a glance, not of annoyance this time. The fairy's eyes are those of someone who sees someone in the same situation as her. When she looks at you, she looks a little worried.
"I-I don't understand, Dementia... That never happened to me... The thing with my heart was a bit crazy too..."
(Huh?, What?, They saw that?!) I don't know if it's flashback worthy, it would have been that they saw it and Ribbon simply asked about the soul, I don't know if Dementia would have answered anything. It could be dealt with at the campfire.
>Merlinus "It does make sense." -repeats, even though you yourself think it doesn't-
>Ribbon "Huh?, You understand?"
>Merlinus "Little Red Riding Hood is learning magic."
>Sturlu "Woooow. You know magic?!"
(And then it became clear, that indeed Little Red Riding Hood learned an enchantment! A spell that came out of nowhere, water magic, the wettest.)
>Ribbon Merlinus Ribbon "...W-what?!, You do?!"
They improved! However, there was an exception Sturlu, who, arguably, was the only setback despite the hard work.
>Sturlu Ribbon "..." -pouts, that's ugly, but it still bothers him everything that happened between you. He still has to forgive her-
>Sturlu Ribbon Prince Charming Merlinus "He's going to die."
>Ribbon RIBBON USES: SMALL HEALING!
The little fairy raised her hand, and magical dust enveloped the dwarf (in height), a high-pitched sound like a soft chime, marks its completion. The fairy dust disappears, along with the prince's wounds.
>Prince Charming "I-I have to..."
>Ribbon "It's done."
>Prince Charming "Huh?!" -opens his eyes in surprise, sits up abruptly and looks at his hands in a hurry. He's fine, then he looks at them- "You healed me?, You? But-"
By then, they had already started walking a few meters away. The boy gets up, grabbing his wooden sword and the pot that serves as his helmet before following them.
"Hey, don't ignore the prince!" But everyone stops upon finding the dwarf under the insatiable flames. Burning from the red-hot that once gave him work. The prince stops with his eyes wide open in horror as the dwarf asks you his final question.
>Sindri Ribbon/ Sturlu /Blue Prince "Huh?!" / "Oh!" "Ah!" -they react like Dragon Ball characters-
>Merlinus "..." -he looks normal-
You adjust the pressure so as not to cut every tree around you, and without further ado, you unleash a geyser from your mouth. The iridescent torrent of water falls upon the village, flooding like a storm at ground level, the hottest flames with your water strike. The ground gets wet as collateral, the flowers are grateful.
The gust ends on Sindri, extinguishing the flames consuming him, and also those of his house.
The village fire is replaced by a rainbow. Almost making it look cheerful despite everything.
>Ribbon "WOW, DEMENTIA, THAT WAS AMAZING!" -never fails to flatter-
>Blue Prince "Wah... He put it out..." -he murmurs-
All your companions look at Sindri. He remained in the same posture, seated, with his gaze lowered. Smoking.
The dwarf raises his hand, signaling the fairy to stop.
>Sindri "Heh... It's okay, it's okay... I just wanted to see if you could do it. I've lived long enough." -Ribbon's eyes widen, she's speechless as Sindri lowers his arm- "you did it, girl... that... means something."
The dwarf's heavy gaze rose, and he took one last look around. Surrounded by the five looking at him with sorrow, even in his final agony, he wanted to give them one last piece of advice as an elder.
"Heh... You have good friends. Take care of them, girl..." -he gives one last look at the little prince, on whom the impact doesn't fade even when the blacksmith lets out a final cheerful laugh- "haha... hahaha..."
https://youtu.be/BL2uLzraqag?si=ZtIhK6oTuxSXFT7j▶ And so, a breeze carries him away like a small cloud of dust that still laughs a little before disappearing completely into the air. Because where there was fire, ashes remain.
The silence that followed lasted for a moment that felt long.
>Blue Prince "He- he's gone... My... blacksmith..." -he had never witnessed anything like it-
>Ribbon "..." -she lowers her gaze, in mourning-
>Sturlu "..." -he remained unusually quiet, observing where Sindri had just been sitting-
>Merlinus "Let's go."
>Ribbon "Huh-?" -she quickly looks up-
>Merlinus "We have to go." -is all he says-
They had to continue.
I was going to add one more scene, but I think it would have made it too bloated. It's your decision if you want to see anything else in the village, I don't know, I already said. Just mark the points on the map you want to look at.
Also, I'm feeling like you guys are eating too many Ls kek, but better times are coming!, Super mega cereal!
Also 2 I can't believe I forgot to put a well in the village kek
>>1817 The middle knob. You turn it, and see the stream's force diminish. You could close it until it was weak as a consumptive's last breath, or until it was the shot that pierces the pig's skull in the slaughterhouse. You adjust it, and it becomes a fountain, leaping and falling in a perfect arc to your lips. With the thirst you had, the plastic dyes matter as much as killing a cockroach. It quenches you. You feel somewhat better, somehow.
...
The thing.
Ruddy. Crimson. Vermilion. Ruby. Red. Insanely red. A square that probably is, or probably isn't. You see it, but your eyes fail without doing so. Its shape escapes your perception beyond the basic idea that it's a square.
The wound in the world seems to change. The red lines seem to shift with every blink, and like a pulse, it also seems to grow into three dimensions or flatten like paper.
Perhaps a heart from beyond, or a bag of pus, because it's so intense it's unpleasant. It tires your eyes and causes a migraine in the deepest part of your mind. And it seems to worsen the more you try to understand it.
And you strike the unknown.
https://youtu.be/oQ9EgWJbWLM?si=TGUKIc0NcRnIj8yz▶ Your world is painted the color of hell. You hear the iron of a thousand shackles scraping on rock. Everything tastes like bad memories. That small instant is the closest you've ever come to being struck by lightning.
And it was gone as quickly as one.
You were standing. And reality had healed. The red now inhabits nothing but your head.
>SUCCESSFUL SAVE!
...
You are in the hallway. The maid is little more than another piece of the scenery occupying the last place of interest. You look for the first door you haven't used, and remedy that by passing through it shortly after getting used to the spicy scent of the room.
You look at what you can. Now with more attention. Next to the bed, that painting looks better from here. The painting makes that person look like a ghost, skin white to the point of sickness and wrinkles that compete in number with the brushstrokes used to portray them. The eyes seem sunk to the limit of their sockets, almost shadowed by the rest of their face. It's someone old, but amidst the decay, that strange smile... it seems genuine.
As extra details, they wore white, healthier than their skin, a chef's hat... and unlike the other paintings yellowed by the passage of time, this one is preserved with such care that it looks like it was painted yesterday.
The wardrobe. It looks like mahogany. If you walk a little to the left, you can see the bathroom door, to the right of the wardrobe, similar to yours. But what interests you most of all is the bell covering the fine bone china on the table set as if it were art.
You take the pure silver, and move it aside to contemplate the more mundane. The plate is occupied by three cuts of meat of a fineness capable of being felt with a glance. Cooked to perfection, with no trace of pink juice, but bathed in a sauce of fruits redder than wine in a glass. You can smell it, your sensitive nose reacts to the fruity fragrance of blackcurrants, with that penetrating touch of ruby port wine, which until today you didn't know existed.
It's Cumberland sauce. And the meat, due to its slight white hue, appears to be pork. One of the three has a tiny piece cut near the edge, as if it had been the victim of a simple tasting and saved for later. The rich can afford that.
Accompanying it, on the side of the plate, is a single slice of lemon, a blue cheese, and some green beans that act as the salad for this dish.
And right next to it, which you hadn't noticed a moment before, a fountain pen accompanying the dinner, like another utensil.
You turn around without finding death. Before you, next to the door, is a small shelf filled with small spice jars. You hadn't noticed it upon entering because the door was blocking it, but you pass by it to go to the books. You move one, you move another. It's just a shelf. You try to see if there's at least something that interests you, like the master Lewis's work, but you find little more than an endless list of various cookbooks. 'ABC of Gastronomy', 'The Best Flavor', 'A Thousand Meat Cuts and How to Prepare Them'. All alphabetized, all in immaculate condition, to the point where you can't tell if they're old or new.
I think I'll implement a dice system. If you're in a place of interest and can't think of anything specific to look for, roll a d20 investigation and I'll pretend you find things by chance or something kekthis will soon be possible anywhere to obtain special items, for now, only in areas you consider of interest.
Disappointment.
You leave the room and try the next door. It's locked. But you don't hesitate to crouch down and peek through the keyhole. The other side is barely visible, in shadow due to the dim lighting of a lantern on a small table. But it's impossible not to see the center of the room.
Under the warm orange tint cast by the lamp, you see that enormous canvas, larger than you, almost completely torn. As if it had been ripped in a violent outburst...
What little paint remained is the lowest part of the canvas... where you'd swear that what you see painted is a wooden hilt, roughly worked, but almost familiar... TTT
And that's all. The view this gives you is so narrow it's annoying, and the little light doesn't help.
The last one has even less to offer than the one you could barely see through the keyhole. Darkness, silence, and abandonment. You already know these three, and you don't want to dive headfirst into a place where they coexist. You turn around and open the last door in the hallway, finding the cleaning closet.
The barrel is the new point of interest. The maid doesn't impede your inspection. You open it, and aiming your flashlight inside, you see at the bottom a small green herb, pot and all. >Take green herb? >[YES] [NO]
Probably another disappointment.
>Maid <No need to call me princess... Call me Cece... Or...
You trail off. But you allow space for her to respond. She stares, unblinking, straight ahead. As if you were a few heads taller, or as if she were lost.
"But that's you." -she replies, breaking the monotony with a certain weakness in her tone- "A spoiled little princess." -she doesn't say it differently, her always empty face doesn't change in the slightest, but her words might sting-
<You should tell me your name too...
She bows before you until her back is below your head level. And she complies.
"Letizia, princess..."
She reveals, and after that returns to the expected perfect posture. You look at her once more, and find the same thing you would always see. Perpetually open red eyes, sallow skin, as if she'd never known the sun, beautiful features on a face that doesn't use them at all, and a textbook posture she'd maintain until her back couldn't take it anymore. Letizia is a servant.
<That room is full of dust.
You look towards it. The maid slowly turns her head over her shoulder and catches sight of it before facing you.
"I know."
"It's my room."
<I want to see inside, are you coming with me?"
"No need, princess."
"There's nothing in there."
"I only use that room for sleeping."
(...)
<Do you know where Alicia is? I want to see her.
"Princess Alicia..." -she mentions, almost a murmur- "No." -meaning, she doesn't know- "I wasn't tasked with receiving her." -her dress was washed...-
<Did you happen to see a bat...?
"..."
She is silent for a moment, you might wonder if she even heard you. She stared into nothingness, her face a blank sheet. Her invisible ink signature. Nothing. Nothing.
>>1817 Bonuses noted for Dementia! I almost forgot to say what her rare item obtained was (I had already implemented it, but if I don't mention it, obviously you won't know kek) >Golden tent -set up a campfire as many times as you need. It doesn't get consumed after one use like normal ones.
>>1819 If you want to advance just tell me yes Cece follows Letizia's directions and I'll give you a turn with the layout of that area, implying that Cece would be particularly interested in the indicated place and then you can take the actions you want. So you don't feel this turn so empty.
Her heart, her soul. Dementia looks at the ground and wiggles her little fingers as she asks.
"I-Insane in a bad way?" She raises her puppy-dog eyes to the fairy. "Did you think it was ugly...?" The question leaves a halo of unease, like a bride asking her partner if she looks fat in her striped dress.
The hood denies with her head and hands when accused of knowing magic. The idea seems to offend her, or at least unsettle her.
"Of course not! I'm a warrior, and warriors use their bodies, no arcane powers. Daddy explained that well to me, and he knows a lot about the world."
But all the weird things that-
"It's called warrior's will," she puffs out her small chest as she clarifies. "Also, in some kingdoms, they call it determination."
The same determination that later leads her among the clouds, to fill herself with water, and fall to quell the fires with a stream from her singing lips. The rain with legendary girl's saliva falls, in turn generating a rainbow. That doesn't change the fact that the charred dwarf is ready to depart to the afterlife...
Dementia's eyes widen and she leans back, then her surprised expression fades, she bites her lip, nods, and tilts her head while hugging herself.
"I'll take care of them... And I'll make whoever did this pay. I swear."
Sindri leaves with the wind, giving way to the ceremonial silence that is brushed by murmurs and finally broken by Merlinus, who urges them to continue the adventure.
"Not yet..." She frowns, shakes her head, and places her hands on her waist. "I saw the woodcutter among the houses. Ribbon, can you go look for him and see if he needs help? I'd like to talk to him... Although he probably hates me."
Dementia attracted Starlo, and also failed to protect them from him. She acknowledges it, and the guilt creates an annoying knot in her chest that she tries to reduce by scratching near her heart... It doesn't work.
(Sometimes I wish I were like Merlinus and felt nothing)
She casts a hard-to-decipher glance at the mage, and holds it in silence for a long minute, until she finally speaks.
"Merlinus, Sturlu, search the village, maybe we can get a cart or something of value from the ruins."
Looting!
"We're short on supplies... We need all the help we can get, and Dad used to say that if you don't take the spoils after a battle, someone else will. Also, if by chance you find more dwarves, we need to take them far from here... I already have a place in mind."
What happened to the village wasn't exactly a battle, but Dementia decides to apply the same logic. But while her group works, what will the hood do? First: Ignore the prince, she's actually been doing it for a while because even though he's cute, she finds him annoying and he also thinks she's a horror. Second: The little red riding hood's eyes focus on the end of the rainbow...
(Gold...)
She takes a small detour to see if she can steal the leprechaun's pot. After concluding the matters in the dwarf village, Dementia would begin preparations to head to...
The fairy village!
She wants to see how everyone is. The Bloodaxe is sick of so much destruction and death, she's nauseous. And maybe if there are any surviving dwarves, she can take them there.
Another important matter that needs to be resolved is Ribbon. She can't stay too long with a dirty diaper or she'll get a rash, and not just in a bad mood.
"Ribbon, come with me. I need you to... Eeeeh... Help me with the plans to get the next stone." She would tell her when they are about to leave, and take her to a nearby stream to clean up.
Dementia is steeling herself to present the fairy with perhaps the most complicated challenge of her life... She bites her lips and doubts if she'll have the guts to ask. The idea Dementia is considering and doesn't know whether to express or not is: Tell Ribbon to ditch the diaper...
>>1819 >Cece psychosis (From psycho- and -sis): a serious mental disorder characterized by loss of contact with reality, where the person has difficulty distinguishing what is real from what is not. The main symptoms include delusions (false beliefs) and hallucinations (false perceptions), often accompanied by unusual behavior.
Cece sometimes fantasized about being a dangerous maniac. Schizophrenia sounded cool, it was something super unique, those who had it saw things that no one else could, images that, like a superpower, positioned you above reality and caused others to look at you with fear.
(Now it doesn't seem so cool)
She thinks as she leaves the room, still with the red burning in her eyes.
(Norman Bates was a man dressed as a woman...)
She comes to the conclusion that she shouldn't tell anyone, or they would institutionalize her, and the electric shocks would turn her into the Joker, or into a vegetable.
(Batman or carrot... Choose wisely)
She shivers all over and shakes her head at the thought. She repeats to herself that it's just the exhaustion, and even to herself it's obvious that she's lying.
...
(What's the lunch of the rich...?)
She says while holding the silver lid, and a sense of unease is sown in her chest. It feels too little, if she also eats like that, in a few weeks she'll be like an African child. She's still not in the age to appreciate the delicacy of food, for her the pinnacle of food is https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U1DJWVqW8z8▶ She lowers the lid.
The library is another dead end.
...
Looking through the keyhole, she glimpses a torn painting and little more. She inserts her finger into the keyhole to violate it, and only manages to get her pinky stuck. She sweats worriedly, but after sp
>>1822 Date: Ribbon could have seen Dementia reveal her soul in the Queen's castle, but since she was behind her, she didn't. At the waterfall, where the All offered you a hand, your heart was exposed. Or perhaps something even more special, living within you.
>Ribbon Sturlu "What?"
>Ribbon "The heart."
>Sturlu "Ahh." -...- "The what?"
>Ribbon "The heart! The- the you know. The heart. The one that looks like this." -arches from pinky to index finger and extends both thumbs, joining her two hands to make a little heart shape- "it's what makes us feel love..."
>Sturlu "Ohhhhhh. That coooool thing."
>Ribbon Nods her head "yes... We saw it."
>Merlinus "Yes, I saw it." -just to confirm-
>Sturlu "What thing?"
>Ribbon Sighs -the exhaustion is visible on her face, and in her little arms, which hang down without energy-
Merlinus "In the bad sense."
>Ribbon "I heard that!" -complains- "How in the bad sense, Dementia?"
Sturlu "S-" -without changing her expression, Ribbon extends her little arm backward and covers her mouth; she no longer has the patience for nonsense-
>Ribbon "N-no!" -opens her little eyes wide, and answers hurriedly, seeming to suddenly activate the moment she realized something- "No!" -confirms, removes her little hand from Sturlu's mouth and joins her thumbs, showing you her two palms- "the hearts..." -lifts both little hands- "are so beauti-ful~" -separates them and moves them downward in a parallel semicircle, forming a small rainbow that sounds like a Barbie dollhouse effect- "yours too..." -adds with sparkling eyes, bringing her joined little hands together like a prayer to her chest once she notices it might be better to give a more direct compliment- "i-it was red... and... I don't know if flat or not... and... Qu- quack... squar-ish...?"
(Pixelated! But that word hasn't been invented yet. Heehee!)
"It was so cute, Dementia!"
>Merlinus "You said it was... Crazy."
>Ribbon "Huh? Yes, but-"
>Sturlu "Yes, in the bad sense!"
>Ribbon "What?! No!"
>Sturlu "Huh? No? That's what I understood."
>Ribbon "Don't say things if you don't understand!" -waves her little arms complaining, then quickly turns to you- "y-yes..." -looks a bit nervous and worried, as she may have chosen the wrong words- "I said crazy... But from... unexpected." -exclaims, showing you her palms- "Not from bad..." -lowers her little hands- (Capuchin Magic knew. Uh- I mean. She didn't want to know! No conjuring, she was a warrior, not a mage or anything like that.)
(That's what she says.) -whispers-
Ribbon NEW CAMPFIRE CONVERSATION: What is the DETERMINATION?
>Merlinus "So you have no magic. You have a lot of DETERMINATION..." -tries to understand- "...to me, it was magic."
>Ribbon "Not really." -goes along with you, trusts your word-
(And so, Capuchin went down the mountain! And the fire problem was solved.)
(But even if one stands up from burning, that doesn't always put out the flames.)
Merlinus Ribbon Sturlu Merlinus Blue Prince "That's stealing!" -waves her little hand in the air from a safe distance-
Sturlu "Okay."
Confirms, with normality -a normality strangely devoid of stupidity- before going off to walk around, leaving you alone with the prince. You don't look at him, but he's glaring at you angrily. Your eyes go to the sky, to the rainbow... which... well, it's gone now.
(Uh... Capuchin, let me explain. Rainbows aren't actually magical, they're a light effect. In fact, that rainbow only formed for a moment because the sun passed through the water you spat...)
(But as soon as the water fell, it disappeared.)
Oh, damn! So there was no rainbow. But you REALLY wanted a rainbow...
And with that thought, starting a few centimeters in front of the tip of your toes, the magical colors of the most solid rainbow you've ever seen rise up with glitter effects and fairy princess music before curving in the air, plunging a few meters away, where it disappears behind the rubble of the dwarf houses.
(...well, Capuchin, I admit rainbows are magical.)
>Blue Prince "Wha-?!" -can't believe what he just witnessed, a rainbow being born out of nowhere right in front of you- Because the girl of legends can do anything!
You walk toward the end of the rainbow. And the Blue Prince jumps in place, understanding everything, then runs panting to catch up with you. He walks behind you, saying nothing. He looks serious... but you ignore him.
You can ignore all of this without even reading it if you want. Except of course the last part, which is the Dementia kek section
RIBBON
(Ribbon, the fairy, flies like a butterfly, but never lands anywhere. She searched, her gaze going left to right, though more with nervousness than suspicion.)
>Ribbon "E-eh... Hello...? Mr. Lumberjack, Rumbar... Junior...?" (Asked Ribbon, somewhat scared.) "Ay... I have to find him... for Dementia... my... special person..." -shame rises to her cheeks, and she touches her belly from a strange sensation, which also worries her- "hm..."
(What?! Pardon?!)
(Ahem. Let's ignore that. Ribbon looked and looked, and out of nowhere...!)
"Whoa?!"
She spots some legs sticking out of some rubble. And soon, -since she's usually at the same height as everyone else's legs all the time- she recognizes them!
"EEK!" -she panics, waving arms and legs-
Ribbon flies swiftly toward the lumberjack, and stops in front of the soles of his sneakers, which are the size of her torso and a bit of her chin from Ribbon's crotch to her chin is about 26 centimeters tall and pulls.
"NNNNGH NNNNGHHGEHHNH"
And pulls. And pulls. And pulls... She turns red, and maybe she'll get a hernia, but the dwarf, big and bulky to her, doesn't move an inch.
"AAHHH, NOOO- I CAN'T-!" -she lets go of one foot with a whimper, looking frustrated- "I can't do it!"
She flies, orbits the dwarf's shin, and lands on it, knees and tiny hands down.
"Hey, hey, wake up!, Wake up!, You have to get up!"
Nothing. She quickly gets down.
"Ayy... It's okay... It's okay, he didn't turn to dust!" -meaning he's alive- "I just have to..."
She raises her hand and casts her only spell in a hurry.
>RIBBON USES: SMALL HEAL! (X3)
The legs shine with a glow, and Ribbon clasps her tiny hands with expectant worry.
"..." -she falls silent, looks, waits, gets nervous- "Sir... Please get up..." Like a spring jumping, after those words. The debris flies with a crash, as the lumberjack sits down abruptly. Ribbon jumps in fright.
"¡EEEEEEEEKKKK!"
She turns so pale she looks like an unpainted drawing. Paralyzed by the free screamer, while the lumberjack clutches his head... he slowly looks at the fairy, whom he had noticed out of the corner of his eye.
>Rumbar "...that fairy..."
Ribbon couldn't even respond. She almost had a heart attack.
"..." -she stands up, head down. The axe was in her hand, for she hadn't let go of it even under those rubble-
She turns, and prepares to go somewhere. But then Ribbon reacts. Her soul returns to her body with a sigh and she jumps, flying to get in his way.
>Ribbon "¡E-espera!" -she begs with her little hands up to the guy with an annoyed look-
>Rumbar "Out of my way." -he pushes her aside with his hand-
>Ribbon "¡Oy!" -she flies back at him- "¡Y-yo te ayudé!" -she exclaims waving her arms-
>Rumbar "Not my problem. Now leave me alone." -he walks past, Ribbon (meowed) starts getting annoyed and flies back in his way-
>Ribbon "-"
>Rumbar "¡I said get out of my way!" -he raises his axe and threatens her-
>Ribbon "¡EEEEK, WAIT I JUST WANTED TO HELP YOU SO YOU CAN GO WITH DEMENTIA BECAUSE SHE WANTS TO TALK TO YOU!" (wait, I just wanted to help you so you can go with Dementia because she wants to talk to you) Ribbon said extremely fast, pulling her big head back and leaning her body backward while raising her hands like a useless barrier.
>Rumbar "...What did you say...?" -he gives her the benefit of the doubt-
>Ribbon "¿Uh-?" -she opens one little eye- "q-que... Dementia quiere hablar contigo..."
>Rumbar "Dementia...?" -he frowns, even more than he already was-
>Ribbon "C-cinderella..."
Rumbar lowers the axe.
>Rumbar "Lead the way."
Ribbon swallows saliva.
...
Merlinus
>Merlinus "..." He's not very talkative, nor capable of gesturing. He wanders in silence, disturbing no one. He knows his mission, searches for whatever serves him, tries to make sure no carts or dwarves escape his sight.
The path he took, he didn't think about. But once again, he had arrived at that witch's shop. It wasn't much different from everything else, rubble, and little more. But that little, for Merlinus, was no laughing matter.
(Je)
"..."
He saw something on the ground, right in front of the shop's ruined display window. Carved wood, with a simple spiral finish at the very top. And he picked it up, an object nearly as big as he was.
"Magic..."
An arcane staff. Of that, there was no doubt.
"It was a witch... But she told me not to..."
Merlinus discovers sarcasm, but doesn't understand it yet. He looks at the shop in pieces, and the visit, not to run errands. Entering is impossible, but that wasn't what the mage was looking for, that's predictable. He crouches before a piece of door, where a paper with burnt tips clings to the wood. The wind makes it flutter, and the dark mage decides to tear off the little leaf.
"..."
He reads it, it's in a dead language, that only those who practiced the most advanced arcane arts have to remember. Fortunately, the lady knew it, and Merlinus was exposed to this, enough to understand: 'I returned to Fantasy'
"...Fantasy..."
>Merlinus has obtained: basic magic staff
"..." -puts away the paper-
It was time to keep looking for that cart.
STURLU
>Sturlu "Something of valuuue, something of valuuue... Something of valuuue..."
Sturlu walked in circles without finding anything for obvious reasons. He had passed through the same rubble over and over, the same leaves and the same big wooden chest. The search remained sadly fruitless.
"Ahh... this is terrible... And... and besides I can't find anything... Where can I find something of value?!" -collapses to the ground, conflicted-
>Chest "Ahem."
>Sturlu "What's up, chest...?"
>Chest "Bark. Bark."
>Sturlu "Eh? Maybe I can find something of value inside the chest?"
>Cofre "Woof."
>Sturlu "Oh! Great."
He stands up; maybe with this he can make up for all the bad he feels. He approaches the barking chest and puts his hands on it... only for it to suddenly burst open, revealing its sharp teeth. Sturlu looks up curiously as long arms that seemed made of wood rise above him and grab him to drag him into its jaws.
"WAAAAHHH!"
The chest falls, again and again, chewing on Sturlu with force repeatedly while he kicked desperately.
"AAAHHH!"
...
Little Red Riding Hood and the Prince
(Little Red Riding Hood and the prince walking together. Oh, they're so cute, I can't, I can't!)
(Did I say that out loud?)
You hear some panting behind you, and soon, you had the prince following you closely.
>Blue Prince "...Did you make this rainbow?" -he asks, puzzled- "And you're looking for the end of the rainbow to get gold, right?! Thief... Surely you are... But... But you'll never reach the end of the rainbow, nor will you see the SUPPOSED pot of gold." (Said the prince... who had tried the same thing once.)
"Besides, that would be stealing!" -he exclaims, raising his little wooden back with a voice that tries -and fails miserably- to sound full of authority-
And then, you turn a corner. Almost at the entrance of the village, where the rainbow finally ends. The prince can't help but jump and almost die from the shock, his face drawn to a caricature, his eyes popping out of their sockets when he sees... A POT FULL OF GOLD!
"GO-OLD?!"
He lands and runs, again, panting, until he's next to the cauldron. His eyes shine, but not as much as the golden glow of the pure gold coins that almost overflow from the container... just as the prince almost overflows with tears.
"Ahh..." -he's mesmerized, his little hand struggling not to reach out and pluck
>>1822 After an epic adventure of rainbows and leprechauns, with your... well... enemy, I suppose, the Blue Prince, you return to the starting point. In front of the forge. Time to wait for the rest.
Returning from her own mini-adventure, the first to arrive is Ribbon. She comes with nerves on her face that resemble someone being led at gunpoint. Behind her comes the big dwarf, whose gaze seemed to carry tons of rage. Ribbon stops when she sees you, not content as so many other times. She raises a finger.
>Ribbon "Uh- D-Dementia-"
A huge hand -for her- lands by the side of her face before pushing hard, launching her far away to clear the path, leaving only a "AH!" before she hits the floor.
>Blue Prince "Wh-?!, WHY DID YOU DO THAT, EVIL ONE?!" -jumps to her defense with his sword raised, and is the second to be thrown with a shove to the other side- "AH!"
The prince rolls on the floor, the pot on his head, called a helmet by him, falls off and he stares at him angrily and helplessly just as the subject, who already had his axe in hand, is just two meters away from you.
"H-STOP, WICKED ONE!" -exclaims from the ground- "oww..." -he scraped his little knee-
>Rumbar "I hope you have very good reasons for giving..."
You hear a soft, constant squeak accompanied by a rattling of wood. Your peripheral vision lets you see, a few meters behind the bearded dwarf, a large cart being pulled somewhat slowly by the little dark mage. Big cart, with a canvas roof. However, the mage does not arrive; he notices your situation and lets go of what would be the team's vehicle. He pulls out a staff, which is new, and approaches, running with the speed his short legs allow. He positions himself behind you.
>Rumbar "The dark mage..."
>Merlinus "Shall I burn him?"
Meanwhile, the Blue Prince was helping himself up with his sword. He was complaining about the scrapes, and stumbling, he stops behind you. Recognizing then, the greater injustice.
>Blue Prince "Back, savage! She is my rival! I will not allow you to hunt my prey."
Or perhaps that was his reason.
>Rumbar "..." -keeps his angry gaze, the decision was yours-
>Ribbon "N-noo, wait!, don't fight!"
Such tension...
ELLIPSIS.
(Wow, how well everything turned out in the end.) Kek this is to fulfill the last scene you had in mind, same as the previous one will be roleplayed accordingly.
Everyone was preparing to leave.
>Ribbon "Cart?" -no one had to answer her, so she looks and confirms for herself- "Ready. But we'll pick it up on the way back. Food?" -looks around- "nope. Water?" -neither- "wow..." -looks at you- "n-not saying ready, Dementia, but... well. Merlinus?" >Merlinus "What."
>Ribbon "Just confirming. Sturlu?"
Silence.
"Sturlu?" -looks around with nothing to be found- "Where did he go?"
If you looked over the fairy's shoulder, behind her, diagonally to the left on the map, where there was a chest you ignored your whole life, you'd see him. Or rather, his legs kicking in desperation while the lid of said chest repeatedly crushes him.
"And..." -Ribbon's gaze lands on the blue prince, who was standing there as if nothing happened- "...who were you...?"
>Blue Prince "I AM THE BLUE PRINCE!"
>Ribbon "OH, RIGHT, SORRY! Uh-... Wait..." -What was he doing here?-
>Blue Prince -points his sword at you- "I'm here to tell you... that what happened today changes nothing, Little Red Riding Hood. I am still your greatest enemy, and I swear, I GIVE YOU MY PRINCE'S PROMISE... that I will hunt you. And I will defeat you. YOU'LL SEE!" -exclaims, turns around, and runs out of the village- "WE'LL SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN!"
>Ribbon "..." -no comment- "I don't get that kid..." -decides to say that- "Are we ready, Dementia...?"
Ribbon "Ahh... lucky we got the cart, Dementia... I'm not used to moving this much. I wasn't even authorized to leave the village yet as Pumpkin... Or Charia... I get tired pretty fast..." -not a surprise with that belly-
Ribbon looks back over her shoulder and speaks to you.
"Shall we talk about the next stone, Dementia?" -asks with her adorable gaze, smiles, hoping the next one will be better- "I honestly don't know where it is..." -says, her little face falls for a moment, but then she smiles again- "BUT I HAVE A GOOD IDEA OF WHERE WE HAVE TO GO TO FIND IT!" -without lifting her tail from the ground, she turns and looks at you with joy, extending her hands to name something big- "Midland... The largest kingdom in the magical world." -Ribbon lowers her head, closes her eyes, smiles, kicks her legs, shakes her little shoulders, and clasps her fists in front of her to show her overflowing emotion- "iiii... I've always wanted to go!" -straightens up and looks at you with total joy- "It's very different from here! It's the most advanced place... They have the best libraries!" -she's in love with the idea- sighs "If there's information for us, Midland is the best place to find it!" -exclaims raising her arms, then lowers them- "but it's far..." -clarifies- "that's why... we need to get a mount... Merlinus can't pull the wagon forever. Hehehe." -lets out a little giggle-
But you weren't here to talk about that. It was time to take her to the water. They could have some quality time by taking a little bath.
>>1821 No I've seen it yet. I want to go see it in the cinema before they take it off the marquee... Aaahhh... I have to go... I'll tell you what I think when that happens kek (until then I won't open that spoiler keksito)
I'll see if I can get a shift for Cece now or if I finish it for tomorrow. Probably the latter because I see it'll be at least a double shift keksito
>>1823 Stormy night and death. Inside the European void, in the most secluded part of the hallway, you find green life, and you take it with you.
>You have collected: green grass
Plant it under your arm. And someone plants themselves behind you. Green the grass and red the gaze, but equally expressionless. Although one speaks, and her ambiguous words prick and burn... While yours do not to her.
>Letizia You have left: green grass
You turn around, and face the window to hell again. The migraine returns the moment you see it, like an attack, which you return by hitting forcefully, making your world tint red.
Without naming her, you know who said those words. But he didn't have one then, and he's not in the corridor now. Probably chasing the fulfillment of his word somewhere you don't know.
You could wait for him, but you had a goal. Art and the artist reside around the corner; you'll pay them a visit. You take the left path, following the carpet back to the stairwell area, and past that painting of the man with the mustache. His eyes stare straight ahead, at the chandelier hanging from a golden chain.
You pass by, leaving behind the hallway of rooms, and confront the shadows where the other end of the corridor is plunged. Getting closer, you notice you don't need a flashlight. It's poor lighting, not total darkness, anyway, the flashlight helps.
To your right, just before reaching the corner that hides another hallway—the one you must follow—you see the doorknob that stuck out and you barely made out from afar. A normal door, brown. No real indicators of being one thing or another.
Passing it, you turn the corner and find yourself in a much longer hallway. The light here is already like a movie at night, but instead of the blue moon effect, it's the red of tired torches.
Decoration is abandoned. Beyond a single small painting of the man with the mustache, and the carpet that cuts off just before another corner at the end of the hallway, the whole place was just stone, which under the torchlight looked as ancient as it surely was.
Two doors on opposite walls. Face to face, both exactly in the middle of the length, and otherwise empty, hallway.
As your only options, you walk until you're between both. To the right, according to the golden plaque, is the 'library'. Period. To your left, the door has no plaque at all, but Letizia mentioned it as your goal.
You take the knob and open it, without hesitation, and behind it you find... a room, which unlike the hallway is very well lit by a luxurious cauldron... but whose purpose you perhaps don't understand.
The table, normal, large, was filled with what seemed like test tubes, several books, a scale, a strange thermos... and some other objects you couldn't make sense of, like what looks like an iron container with a rod to hold it from afar. It could be, perhaps, one of those objects used by those who work with molten metal, an idea perhaps sparked by the cauldron you have on the wall at the other end of the door. Which constantly releases steam thanks to a powerful flame beneath it. The flame must be powerful, for the cauldron boils with it while being separated by a stone chimney.
That stone could also facilitate whatever is done with this, as it extends to the sides of the cauldron, allowing more of those strange test tubes to the right of it.
Ignoring that, further to the right of the same cauldron, already on the floor, there is a vase. It looks just like those two vases that were near the cat, beautiful and fragile.
There is nothing more on that side. If you now look to your immediate right, after closing the door so it doesn't hinder you, you would see more test tubes; these are larger, one with its own little legs that reaches up to your thighs, and another even larger, whose base is an integrated bench that puts it at chest height; this one is connected by a tube to a structure, which is the... test tube? The largest one. About twice your height, though of course it's on something.
It has a shape that could resemble the Libertadores cup an hourglass, starting with a solid base that narrows in the middle, with the highest part being a sphere, from which a tube emerges that connects it to the one below.
On the wall to your right, right next to the door frame, there are small containers of various types filling a shelf. They have no labels, only distinctive colors here and there. They might be for adults; the first shelf you could reach on tiptoes, the second only by jumping, with the risk of knocking everything over.
On the other side, to your immediate left, also next to the door frame, you see a low chest of drawers, almost a dresser, which on top holds a container. It's like a mortar and pestle, but it's curious because the pestle is made of transparent glass. It also has another object that is like a strange metal sphere, which is high up on an iron rod. Like a pacifier...
Right next to that chest of drawers, there is a large bookshelf full of books. Full, really; if you look up, you would see a small pile of books protruding above the shelf.
And finally, on the left wall... there is another door.
This is clearly not the art area... if Letizia didn't lie, you didn't have many more clues than to take the only door that was there.
2/3 The following only if Cece decides to proceed through that door and not stay.
>>1823 And the only door you had, you took it. As soon as you open it, a breath of fresh, damp air from the outside hits you.
Through the threshold, you now see the raindrops almost fading away. So fine that you have to raise your gaze to find, with the help of the lamps, the last thin traces of the shower that is slowly ending.
You step outside. Still standing on elevated ground. Is this some kind of floor, with its boundaries made of stone railings, that end in a space to your left, marking the start of some stairs going down.
You go, ignoring the rain without a problem, which you now feel only as an occasional drop. And you find two options to go down: a hand ladder in front of you, and to your right, the stairs that begin. But, if you chose the latter, you would find that the descent ends after about 6 steps... and it cuts off. As if they had forgotten to continue the stairs.
Looking from the edge, the drop looks huge. Imposing. There is grass down there, surely with mud, but it doesn't take away that it is a big fall. About 2 meters and coins, for Cece it would look quite high, I imagine
You go down, by whichever ladder you prefer. And you end up in an inner garden where the sweet scent of wet earth reigns. It looks more cared for than the other one, and still quite large. The grass is perfectly trimmed, and the night is lit up to clarity by streetlamps, like the one in the center, behind a wooden bench, and by wall lamps, like the one right next to the hand ladder that goes back up to the high ground from before.
You look I'll do the POV from in front of the hand ladder and to your immediate left there are two sculpted pillars, smooth, that shelter a door. But if you tried to open it, you would find it is locked.
In the middle of the place, there are two benches in parallel, both wooden, typical garden style, around a cut trunk of good circumference, which acts as a possible table. Behind that bench that faces you - meaning the one you would have to turn around to sit on - is the mentioned streetlamp. It is tall, and gives good light for a change, not escaping the constant swarm of various insects addicted to the light, which orbit it at full speed, and crash into the glass. Some die, from hitting so hard that they get stuck to what they desire and never reach it.
A few meters behind that lamp, there is also a well. A well like any other. Made to draw water. Since it has no built-in roof, it is sheltered from rain and leaves with a round wooden lid that is now on. You could take it off and drink from there, if you were still thirsty and didn't mind that the clean water mixes with the rainwater.
Or make a wish. But you don't have a coin.
You never have a coin.
Further to the left, from the well, there is a concave space in the wall. If you got closer, you would see that this is a place for a door. And that your view was blocking it from where you were, because behind the well there were two vases like the ones you already saw in the room before and near the cat.
Similarly, if you tried to go through this other door... it opens. And lets you enter a hallway with high walls and no roof, well lit, and of an appearance as ancient as the undecorated hallway of today. There is nothing in front, more than the feeling that it is spacious, capable of holding at least two of you lying down from the wall you have in front to the door. To your left, the hallway extends for a while, a few meters... it's strange, the lack of a roof feels like exposure. At the end of the hallway, some steps go down and lead to a more open area, perhaps too much so. To your left, you see trees and wild vegetation that separates from your castle only by a stone railing that barely reaches your knees.
It overlooks the forest. To the unknown. Despite how well-lit this area is, everything out there is darkness... why isn't there a wall as high as all the ones you've seen so far?
If you ignore it, giving the forest its profile and facing forward, you'd see a huge gate. The kind from movies, capable of reminding you, if you hadn't already considered it, that you were in a castle. Passing seems impossible, unless you found the mechanism, or had super strength. It only leaves you with that to your right, the wall parallel to the forest, with another door, between two marble mermaid statues... that was the indicator.
You enter.
https://youtu.be/JFnjwGlzX6A?si=ZEGDkMCDZPEYjn6Q▶ Notes from a virtuoso reverberate through the great room. It's a piano that pierces you, oscillating between beauty and violence with its constant high-pitched arrangements and those jumps between keys that find a synchronization in chaos.
To your left, right beside you, stands a featureless mannequin, with nothing. You only know its chest seems masculine, and that it stands on the same floor composed of tiles with rhomboid patterns in brown, black, and white as you.
To your right, there's a harp, a huge harp. And it's no exaggeration. It's taller than two cars stacked up. And as long as a car if you count from its start to its end. Next to the harp was a small seat, which underneath also had a case. Someone was playing this somehow.
And before you, the room smelling of oil and turpentine stretched long and wide, and looked like a proper art gallery. Despite having few paintings, they were striking, all oils, with their own plaque to name the painting.
In the center of the room, worth noting, there was a table, with chairs. It felt out of place, same as, or perhaps less than, the sideboard that was right behind it...
Something shone on the table. Like flickering to call attention.
You can walk a bit; if you looked at the paintings on the walls, you'd find that the inspirations are somewhat... childish, and the results, a bit twisted.
You see a girl, blonde with blue clothes, portrayed with golden hair, and, among the few brushstrokes dedicated to her face, with horror. Running.
Goldilocks
It says on the plaque.
Parallel to it, on the right wall as seen from the entrance, another blonde girl falls into the darkness, with nothing to help her, although her hand begs for aid toward the sky. She wears blue and white, with a ribbon in her hair.
Alice in Wonderland
Right next to the painting of Alice, there's another one, more raw. Dark, one would say. No colors other than white and black, but they aren't needed to understand that from her empty eyes, those brushstrokes represent a vital red.
Donkeyskin
That's what it's called, and it matches the skin she wears, donkey leather used like you use your cap. The head doesn't lose its three-dimensionality. Giving it perhaps the appearance of a macabre costume.
However, it's the last painting, the one facing this one on the other wall, the most striking. Because it's unmistakable.
That decadent skin, those eyes that don't seem like eyes, the teeth that can't decide what shape to take. It's like recognizing the coldest killer through a composite sketch. You can almost smell the rot through the painting...
Wolf?
3/4 Kek I hope these exploration shifts aren't bothering you too much
Once you left the paintings, if they even interested you, and turned to the other end of the entrance, where the grand gallery ends, you would find the source of the music.
Playing with his hands, but living the music through movements of his entire body. You see this man in a wine-colored suit in profile, playing with his eyes closed, his face twisted in pain. Screaming without words, through the piano, his shoulder-length hair dancing with his thrashes, which are almost headbutts.
On that bench and that carpet, he was better than Liberace. The dull sobbing had returned as a fine, emotive melody, painful and elegant. You are before art. And if this man isn't Cosimo, who else could it be.
He doesn't hear you, nor does he look at you; he is immersed in the music, in the feeling. You can look past him, and see that in front of him there is a figure under a blanket. Another mannequin enjoying the song, perhaps.
But what was more interesting was what he had to his left, closer to the wall; a large blank canvas blocked your view. You had to get closer to find what hasn't been captured in the white yet...
As you approach, what was behind begins to take shape. Wooden corners, wooden corners holding glass; it's a display case, a display case on a small pedestal, a large display case that inside has...
A bat with-
Napoleon! It's Napoleon.
But there's a problem, as simple as it is huge... you see that the glass has space for a key.
4/4
Now yes, I'm so sorry for the kek. Hope you don't get sick of the scene descriptions.
Whew. That was a trip kek sorry for going on so long. But anyway. I wanted to clarify something. Here: >>1828 With the research dice you rolled, which was pretty good, you would have surely found something even in other rooms without special items, like a healing item or something, but that doesn't fit in Letizia's room because literally there's nothing at all. We could say it worked for you to find... that there is indeed nothing kek That's all. Probably going on hiatus for studies in the next days, or at most I'll respond sporadically, sometimes I feel like writing a lot kek >attached Cece cursed
>>1792 Ok, I've started Oracle of Seasons as I told you. And honestly... I'm enjoying it a lot! And when I say a lot, I mean a lot. Guess who has cleared 5 dungeons in 3 days. That's right. Well, partial impressions, if there are 8 in total I'm officially past the halfway point... Honestly, the game hooks you from the start. Making Din a nomadic dancer is a very unique idea, but beyond that, the initial interaction is quite sweet with her worrying about you, inviting you to dance... And she's very pretty! Kek, she feels close in a way that could be hard with someone royal like Zelda I'm looking at you, Zelda from TP, and seriously you want to save her when everything goes to hell.
As for the game itself, it's fun. The combat feels good in a strange way, theoretically it's the same as ALTTP, but I found it more satisfying, I don't know if the hit feedback is more pleasant, or what. But it works better.
The dungeons, I won't lie to you. The first and second were paperwork, fun and simple, obviously to get into the game's frequency, it's the 3rd that changes everything... For the worse! kek. In that one I didn't know where to go, normal, I don't mind, I have patience. But the problem is it made me walk everywhere... And the puzzles are back to their place! It wouldn't be a problem either, but I had to push the vases sooo slowly so many times to open a door, with Link doing his "hnnng" animation and it got very heavy because you ended up taking forever kek that feather was kinda ugly too. Sometimes the jumps fail a lot, I press the button and it goes past the platform! But little details. I have a somewhat funny anecdote that in one part there's a button that makes the floor explode, like before there was a similar area in a cave where you had to pass quickly with the Pegasus Seed, I used it there but I fell a lot of times until I gave up. Later I found the feather and it was "...ah."
Anyway, the hardest one for me was the fourth, although in its defense it's my fault, I forgot there was an area with vases to push that gave me a key and I thought I was softlocked kuek. I had to walk everywhere because I'm a noob until I found it again, and I passed it once because in the previous dungeon you could only move the purple vases and these were brown. Then I went back, tried it and I could reach the boss. Oh, also that mini-boss was a pain, it was very obvious the mage was making illusions, but he killed me 3 times before I noticed that the shadow is what reveals the real one. The problem isn't that he killed me, but the way back was sooo long kuek Aside from that, all the main bosses were easy. The first one killed me once, a little horned dragon, but only because I was hitting it and throwing bombs without doing any damage (and I entered with low health). On the second try I hit its horn and it was just spamming facazos and I liquidated it kek. The second one, a triceratops or something like that, was super easy; it was obvious you had to throw it into the spikes. The moth (backrooms reference...) of the third one I also killed on the first try; it was just dodging and beating it to death.
The fourth dungeon boss did kill me twice kek. That crab. The first time because it grabbed me with its claw and gave me a huge stunlock; I thought the way it grabs Link and slams him against the ground was very kekeante, it's funny, but having to walk all the way back to fight it again isn't funny. On the second try I broke its claw and it killed me after because I couldn't find a way to damage it in its second phase. I couldn't find the hitbox. Only on the third try did I realize I could hurt it with the slingshot, and then I won, although it was still weird; the hits only registered sometimes.
The fifth dungeon was my favorite. It's a total change after the other two; it's not cryptic, all the items you already have work super well, and the level design reaches its peak with quite ingenious things. The magnet hand is super fun, so far the best, and the path to the dungeon itself was cool too. Quality. I finished it and stopped, but I'm liking it, if that's not obvious.
Now, since I haven't finished it yet, I can't give opinions; I just wanted to share my experience so far, so you see I didn't ignore it, I just postponed it a little kek. That said... Maple disappointed me! Before playing the game I already knew her; she always seemed very pretty to me, but I only met her once well, actually a few times, but I dodged all of them except one because I keep moving forward and she takes a while to appear kek and it was pretty anticlimactic. It doesn't take away from how beautiful she is.
My current state... Excited! I hope the following dungeons live up to this last one, and I'm very interested in seeing how the vibe with the ages will be once I finish this. The relationship, etcetera, etcetera.
You can ask specific questions if you want.
Ah! I remembered something. When I see the subrosian sprites... I know they're supposed to have two shiny eyes, but it looks like they have one giant eye like Sauron kek. Now you won't be able to unsee it!
>>1824 >>1825 >>1826 >Dementia The compliments to her soul make the caperuz grab her face and make little eyes with an open mouth in a wide smile... That shrinks when Merlinus and Sturlu endanger the fairy's compliment. But it's nothing, Dementia puts a hand on her hip and with the other shakes her bangs, and after sighing, her expression reflects calm, and the look she gives the fairy is anything but judgmental.
"Yeah, Ribbon. You said my soul seems pretty to you and I believe you. Yours is pretty too, I don't need to see it, I just know it"
Determination, that's your kind of "magic". It's what makes him come back from death, and also what made it easy for him to put out the fire with cloud water. The caperuz believes that if you want something very much, and you put a lot of effort into it, it just happens. It's not infallible, if it were, he wouldn't have just lost.
"Ouch..." She murmurs and lowers her face remembering. But it's stupid to feel pity for her defeat when around there is literally people who died. People who can't come back, like the dwarf.
(The queen came back... But only for a while, and as a ghost. I don't know if that counts)
She has a lot to do, starting by delegating. Ribbon has doubts, but the caperuz whispers to her:
"You're the only one in the group who knows how to use, you know, the right words"
Merlinus doesn't seem very good with words and Sturlu straight-up invents them. With a little hand on the small shoulder of the baby, Dementia wants to make her understand that she sees her as her diplomat, her voice of reason.
Ribbon goes, and to Merlinus and Sturlu, Dementia sends them to gather. The prince's complaint makes her roll her eyes and stretch her face with her palm.
"And how do you know it's stealing! Have you stolen a lot, haven't you?!" She leans in with narrowed eyes and throws the accusation back at him. "And if you don't like my methods, well, come on, stop me, I dare you!"
She points at him with a finger and sticks out her tongue, because pointing with Cariñitos would be too much to deal with a child. Immediately Dementia turns her back to continue with her business. There is no rainbow, because at this moment the caperuz doesn't have the mood for the color It was my mistake, we can ignore this. Unless, of course, the Leprechaun's secondary mission excites you a lot. With long, firm strides, as if seeking to take it out on the earth, the legend's girl carves her path. She glances over her shoulder, sees the prince following her, shakes her head, and turns her gaze forward. Dementia reaches the blacksmith's shop, where Ribbon finds her and joins her.
When the woodcutter's hand roughly shoves Ribbon aside, the prince is the first to leap and defend the fairy. Dementia, on the other hand, remains strangely calm. Her eyes fixed on the bearded man's, and Cariñitos' head resting on the ground. Merlinus appears with a new staff and a carriage, but Dementia doesn't take her eyes off Rumbar.
"For what happened..."
She begins to speak.
"You have permission to be an idiot. But not with Ribbon or the little prince. Take it out on me. It's fair to be a jerk to someone capable of hitting you back."
She inhales and exhales.
"And with Starlo."
She grips the axe handle.
"Maybe you'll blame me for what happened, that I brought the bad luck with my arrival, that I should have been more present. Maybe... you're right."
She bites her lip.
"I'm angry at myself! That's why my cuts are so strong, because I'm full of rage!" She exclaims and stomps forward powerfully. The village trembles for about ten seconds.
She eases the pressure of her teeth, steps back, and looks at the ground.
"But I can't let despair consume me. I have to train, become stronger so I never fail again... And I wish you would too, so that when the day comes, you'll be one of those who help me defeat Starlo."
She lifts Cariñitos, holds him with both hands, and places him in front. The face and the gaze of the cap are divided by the metal. The determination she spoke of earlier burns in her eyes, but this time with a somber light.
"Or fight me now, because I recognize when someone's anger is about to overflow... But if you do that, if you're tired, if you want to use your axe and end it all..."
>>1834 >Dementia Well, what starts well ends well. Time to continue the adventure.
"I can try to hunt for food, but I don't know, enemies usually turn into dust... I have no idea where the meat comes from in this place," she comments while scratching her temple with a finger. "Wait... I think we're missing something... Something very, very important. What could it be?"
She places her hand under her chin and murmurs to herself.
That something she's missing is...
The diaper! She still hasn't changed it.
But Sturlu is also missing. She notices the absence right after the blue prince runs away.
"What's beautiful is also crazy," she says into the air without thinking much. Her gaze travels to Merlinus. "Can you look for Sturlu? I'm worried. Make sure he's okay"
The mage is surely about to turn around to comply, but Dementia stops him with her voice.
"Hey, Merlinus... I know you don't care about what I think of you, but you're very helpful. Thanks"
She accompanies Ribbon to a nearby stream. On the walk to the shore, they chat a bit.
"What will we use to collect the water?" she asks while grabbing the inventory bag and putting her hand deep inside, feeling around, maybe something slipped out that could be useful for collecting liquid. While checking, she looks sideways at Ribbon and continues the conversation. "I wasn't even qualified for this... 'Odyssey...' Did I say that right? I mean, I'm not even old enough to get married. There's still like three years left, a lot! But here we are... And I'm glad to have you as a companion"
Regarding the stone, the next target seems to be Midland. But Ribbon's overwhelming excitement clashes with the reflective seriousness of the cap.
" Don't worry about the mount, we'll figure it out... But first, I'd like to return to the fairy village. I realized the obvious, and it's that they're very unprotected. We should do something about it, don't you think? Prepare them to defend themselves if necessary"
Maybe it's useless, or a silly idea, or a waste of time. But Dementia is incapable of not worrying about the people she leaves behind.
"But if you really want to go to Midland... You'll have to take a bath first!"
The cap removes the cloth that gives her her name and throws it over the branches of a nearby tree. She does the same with the dress she's wearing underneath, kicks off her boots, and also gets rid of her underwear.
The shine of the sun reflects off the skin of the legendary heroine! Covering any modest areas with its reflections. She steps into the stream backwards and gestures to the fairy to join her. Once she's close enough, she splashes water on the fairy's face.
>>1828 >>1829 >>1830 >Cece Red eyes floating in the thick darkness. Cece holds their gaze, her small nose wrinkled in concentration. She wants to know if what she's seeing is real. Maybe Letizia really is a demon, or a vampire, or maybe demons are growing inside her, in her brain, like worms, mocking her and making her hallucinate.
(If I'm really crazy, one day I'll wake up and be like Amelie. I don't want that)
The alternative, that the monsters are real, isn't ideal either.
She moves through the mansion. Every corner seems to possess a different opacity. The portraits of her new father are a plague, like cockroaches were at the orphanage. The walk leads her to a kind of laboratory or something, the measuring tubes give it away.
(Re-Animator. 1985)
Except there's no mad scientist in sight, nor a severed head on the table. Beyond the reference that came to her mind, Cece can't name any of the beakers or instruments.
(Napoleon isn't here)
That thought spurs her on. She continues through the door.
The scene opens up. It's the outside again.
She hesitates to go out, the last time she was outside she peed herself, an experience that could embarrass anyone. She takes a deep breath through her nose and blows out through her mouth. She goes out and takes the stairs. But that path suddenly cuts off. She looks into the void with a grimace, almost as if the abyss owed her money. Dissatisfied, she shakes her head and steps back, being careful with her steps.
She goes down the complete stairs.
A garden, and pillars guarding locked doors. Cece sticks her pinky finger into the locks, but all she manages is to bruise her finger. She puts her pinky finger in her mouth and soothes it with licks. She turns, and her eyes fall on the well. She stares at it for a full minute.
(Ringu. 1998)
She moves forward.
She finds vases, and another door. The lack of a roof makes her look up with distrust, almost as if expecting an eagle to dive-bomb and snatch her away.
(I'm glad they adopted me. The others aren't as tough, they couldn't handle it)
The sight of the forest would make them run. She also wants to get away, but she can't. She's Roja, and she must find her bat everywhere.
>>1836 >>1831 >Cece The marble sirens give way to the art room, inside, among the pieces, the restless echoes of a piano stir. Cece invades the room with long, cautious steps, keeping her arms away from her body. She looks at the mannequin with distrust, judging it every few steps to make sure it isn't following her.
Cece's aquamarine gaze sweeps over the instruments and paintings.
"Alicia..." she murmurs upon seeing the blonde girl falling into the gloom. She extends her hands, her fingers tracing a descending line over the oil painting. "But not the Alicia I know."
And after the donkey, appears...
The wolf.
Cece's breath catches. She steps back, only stopping when she realizes it's just a painting. Even so, the sight made her sweat. She takes a deep breath, forces herself to walk until her face is half a meter from the animal. She lifts her right foot and plants the wet sole as high as she can (almost above her head), imprinting the mark of her sneaker.
She lowers her leg and takes a couple of steps back. She shakes her head and continues exploring the gallery. She stops again upon glimpsing the man at the piano. An adult, apparently drowned in his music.
Cece, in complete silence, skirts around him to keep going, and it's then that the room reveals the display case with Napoleon trapped inside. Cece almost lets out a gasp, but she holds it in her hands and checks if the pianist noticed.
Still on tiptoe, she speeds up until she can touch the display case, shaking it, looking for a way to open it and thus be able to get the bat. If she couldn't find it, Cece would do something drastic. She would look for one of those fragile vases that seem to plague the mansion, or something to throw to break the glass.
Her breathing quickens during the search. Having Napoleon so close yet so far is maddening.
>>1833 >The initial interaction is quite cute with how she worries about you, how she invites you to dance... And she's very pretty! She looks like a Gerudo, or do all Gerudo look like Din?
>Zelda from TP It's just that in that game Midna is the star. A question capable of leading two kingdoms to war: Which do you prefer? Imp Midna or True form Midna? I have my answer clear, I'll leave it in spoiler: Imp Midna all the way, kek. Nintendo created a genre with her.
Your impressions are making me want to play it again. But I can't, the backlog! the backlog!
>Maple disappointed me It's recommended to bump into her. Not only do your rupees scatter, but hers do too, so you can steal from her, kek. The little monkey only appeared in the Oracles as far as I know, and those games are simple and charming in terms of narrative, the characters themselves don't do much and the impression they leave is what matters. Surely many children liked her attitude, they grew up, started drawing her, and that's how her fame was consolidated.
You'll have to wait for them to remake the Oracles to, perhaps, get a bit more interaction with her.
>I know they're supposed to have two bright eyes, but it looks like they have a single giant eye like Sauron, kek. Now you won't be able to unsee it! Noooooo, you ruined one of my favorite races, I hate you!
Kuek.
As a counter, I'll let you know that Saria probably turned into one of those ugly, dwarf Koroks that players bully in the new Zeldas. Speaking of which, in the movie it looks like the Kokiri will return. I hope they reappear in the games too, the Koroks are starting to get boring.
Do you know which Zeldas I have pending? The DS ones. I feel like downloading an emulator and giving them a try.
>>1834 Ribbon had good intentions, but the group's distinct mental capabilities came with confusion. The poor fairy was as blocked as she was upset, things that happen when your words get twisted.
>Ribbon <Yeah, Ribbon. You said my soul looks nice to you and I believe you.
Your little fairy sighed with her eyes closed. Her hands, which she had already lowered, relaxed until they hung limp from the weight of relief.
(What luck that she understood my explanation...) -Ribbon thought, but it wasn't just logic that made Little Red Riding Hood trust her!-
<Yours is nice too, I don't need to see it, I just know
"Uh?" -the little fairy opened her eyes at your confession, but the surprise didn't last long. From the corners of her lips a tender smile formed, lighting up the red little lights on her chubby cheeks; it was a compliment to her soul, which she discovered she loves-
>Merlinus "I don't believe it."
Ribbon's little face seemed to invert. If it had just been shining like a gold coin, now with her brow furrowed it showed a slight shadow. She turned, her cheek -no longer blushing- puffed out, body leaning forward and fists extended at her sides, like a delta-wing plane.
>Ribbon "Why not?!"
And her tantrum voice was powerful as a bomber plane!
>Merlinus "Strong souls are rare. All the others are the same."
>Ribbon "That doesn't matter!" -she whipped the air with a small stomp accompanied by a herding hand motion. There was no sound, but she made her complaint clear- "It doesn't mean it can't be pretty!"
>Merlinus "I don't know." -he had no idea about aesthetics or those things, they weren't made for that-
>Ribbon "Hmph. Well, Dementia said so." -and she believed you. So, cruelly according to her, she just turned her back on the mage with indifference to his posture- "Besides... I do know things. Many things..." -she said, appealing to a fact that is true-
>Merlinus "Well."
Merlinus didn't care, but Ribbon ended up in a bad mood. This situation could have been her wet diaper's fault. You planned how to resolve it, but first, some errands in town.
<Ouch... Merlinus and Ribbon turned quickly at the sound of a groan. Sturlu was somewhat out of it. And although you had two pairs of eyes, it was no surprise to know who worried even though she saw no immediate danger.
>Ribbon "Dementia?, are you okay?"
Her voice trembled, and she looked at you with some tenderness. You didn't want to jump to conclusions, but you couldn't help but be startled.
Luckily, you were fine. As fine as one can be who has returned from the beyond. You had to focus on other things.
(And so, Little Red Riding Hood showed her leadership! She entrusted each one with a task. And when there was uncertainty...)
<You're the only one in the group who knows how to use, you know, the right words
"Ah..." -she lowered her head-
(You calmed them!)
"I-I guess... You're right..."
You convinced her, she convinced herself, and thus, Ribbon set off on her little adventure. The other two followed, leaving you with the chihuahua prince, who started barking at you.
>Blue Prince <And how do you know it's stealing!
"Because I know!" -unbelievable-
<Have you stolen a lot, haven't you?!
"Huh?!"
Horror painted his face as if your words had been a bucket of paint, the prince jumped in place, but soon returned to his exaggerated seriousness. He crossed his arms and escaped your gaze with a 'hmp' accompanying the brusque movement of his chin in offended primness.
"The Blue Prince..." -and he spoke in the third person! What next- "...possesses infinite riches! Never, oh, would I need to steal."
(Hm... What a curious little thing, weren't you trying to hunt me down for the reward?)
<And if you don't like my methods, well, come on, stop me, I dare you!
"E-!" -he opened his eyes and uncrossed his arms in a startle, his little mouth shot out to say something, and the word melted into a failed sigh born of nervousness- "A-a-and!" -he stammered, without turning around. Soon, his eyebrows rose higher, and he returned to closing his eyes and feigning the solemnity that a certain good idea granted him- "...no. Only because I have decided to have a truce for..." -and after speaking a bit with a slowness that grew with each word, he deflated in place, realizing what he was saying. He had opened his eyes, and they reflected the sorrow of mourning- "...respect... For..." -he sighed, he never looked at you, but you could see how he didn't take his eyes off the ground- I don't care, your decision.
There was no Leprechaun. But the dwarf prince who was now following you served a similar function, being short and funny - until he got annoying - you shook your head at him, he stopped and raised an eyebrow for a moment, resuming his march alongside you.
"WHAT WAS THAT, COMMONER?! In Midland, complaining about the prince would be a global offense!"
(Ahem. If it's only in one place, it wouldn't be global, little one!)
The red and blue duo achieved nothing, soon returning to where the walk began. There, Rumbar returned.
The situation escalated quickly. The big one picked on the weakest, and the one who wasn't much better tried to help. The prince was repelled like a fly, and the tension was left in the hands of those who carried axes.
Rumbar glared at you. The anger filling him seemed to be anesthesia for any fear. You had allies supporting you, and he only had his weapon.
But in reality, it was just the two of you. Merlinus, Ribbon, the prince. They were there, but you had to resolve this between yourselves.
>Rumbar Blue Prince/Merlinus/Ribbon "OW!" "!" "AH!"
You invented the earthquake. The vast plains of the magical world vibrated under your foot. The village shook violently, like a rubber band that had been slapped. The carriage fell, and, if there had still been any houses standing, they would surely have collapsed. Not even Rumbar could avoid the shock at seeing the world around him turn into a snow globe in the hands of a child.
When it stopped, your little friends were dizzy. Turning to look at the ground, you discovered that, all over the village, it had cracked and even split from your outburst. Rumbar returned to look at you, regaining his ill intentions, as anger clouded his judgment. It clouded it even when seeing the impossible.
<And I want you to do it too, so that when the day comes, you will be one of those who help me defeat Starlo
And then, he loosened his axe. It was only a second, a hesitation before regaining his resolve.
Options were running out, and the stares still burned. Finally, you raised your weapon, and the lumberjack prepared himself too. The blade of affection divided the world into the duality that has always pursued you. >[FIGHT] ♡ [MERCY]
The options returned. As always, it was up to you to decide the fate of what was before you. And with your heart caught between the two extremes...
<Either fight me now, because I recognize when someone's anger is about to overflow... But if you do that, if you're tired, if you want to use your axe and end it all...
You gave one last chance.
<You will die here
Ribbon was too dizzy. The two boys were too. It was just the two of you, and your weapons.
Many times warriors reached this point. Only the wind as a witness, with furious gazes that spoke for themselves. In their hands, they held not their weapons, but the lives that would be at stake during the final duel.
One step was enough for everything to turn into bloodshed again. One step to become worms or ash. Every second felt like a minute, because that's how slowly things seem when one's life is on the line.
You saw his gaze furrow. More. More than ever. And his hands tremble like those who can barely contain their fury.
But in reality... you saw pain.
https://youtu.be/Bgu3ZHqm2SI▶ As if struck by an arrow in the stomach, he squeezed his eyes shut as much as his teeth. From between them escaped a weak whimper with which the dwarf fell to his knees. With which he had to drop the axe and put his hands on the floor to avoid falling face-first.
>Rumbar "I've lost everything... Don't you understand...?"
"My father... My home..." -he hit the floor- "EVERYTHING!"
"They took it from me... AND I COULDN'T DO ANYTHING!"
(Almost like Ribbon...)
"AND I'M FURIOUS." -he straightened up, looking at you with the same anger even on his knees- "I've never wanted to hit so much..." -he admitted, panting, not from exhaustion, but from anger- "to hit you..."
"You want to give me orders?"
"Telling me not to misbehave?! When I took your hand, this is what happened!" -he looked around-
Destruction.
"Is that what awaits me if I follow you...?"
He lowered his head. He had lost everything.
"I lost everything..."
It sounded like defeat.
"How could you understand...?"
You had these little ones who would run to help you.
"..."
He let out a heavy sigh... Perhaps he had little more to say.
>Ribbon Campfire conversation added: about magical food
So you had options. You could go to a Terrarian settlement, find animals that came from the human world... OR EAT A LIVING MAGIC CREATURE!
(No, no, that's not...)
<Wait... I think we're missing something... Something very, very important. What could it be?
"Hm?"
Ribbon's chin rose a few centimeters, just enough to spark curiosity in her little eyes. You thought. What was missing and very important? Two things, you concluded. But Ribbon remained clueless about what you remembered, staying expectant until that ridiculous prince's speech threw both of you off track.
<What's pretty is also crazy
Ribbon didn't add anything, still looking confused at where the little one had vanished, but she agreed. Merlinus had nothing to say in general; he was, as always, there. Accompanying until one of his comments, ranging from dry to sharp, was worth it. Your gaze seemed to activate him, so he raised it just enough for your eyes to meet. He was ready for another order, and it came.
>Merlinus <Can you look for Sturlu? I'm worried. Make sure he's okay
"Alright."
And he didn't hesitate to obey. He was your soldier; he turned on his heel at your command.
<Hey, Merlinus...
And, stripped of the typical frustrations of a human, he turned back with the same almost mechanical dedication as always. He had to obey, and he wouldn't mind how many times you stopped him to add instructions. He wouldn't wait for you to stop sharpening your ears to complain; he would fulfill it, if possible, and return to waiting for another order.
He was a simple being, moving along the lines his creator had drawn. They were limited, but in your eyes:
<I know you don't care what you think of me, but you're very helpful. Thanks
Things were like that.
"..." The mage could not express anything. He stood there in one of those silences where the most beautiful, or the most horrible, thoughts are born, but always the deepest ones. Ribbon looked at him attentively, as if she could decipher what lay behind the only thing that made up the mage's face. But as always, the eyes, which in all of us reveal more than lips, in that face of shadows were nothing more than unengraved medallions.
Merlinus resumed the mission, turning his back on you, and soon you had his figure moving away with the same insensitive silence that governed his life. Ribbon sighed, her drooping eyes sharing with you a small disappointment that needed no mention.
Perhaps Merlinus was still just a simple dark mage without feelings.
...
They parted ways. The path was gentle, as Mother Nature is with the little fairies dedicated to caring for her. After a while, the Mycelium and the enormous mushrooms of the dwarf village waved them goodbye from behind, and the trees that formed a new corridor, or entryway, welcomed them with the melodies of the forest. Which should be clarified, it was different from the mushroom forest, just as a string instrument differs from a wind instrument. Little birds here, mooing there, however strange it sounded.
>Ribbon "Hm..." -she looked around a bit, as if getting used to the green again-
<"What will we use to collect the water?"
"Oh?" -she suddenly looked at you, as if you had pulled her out of some thought- "ah..." -she raised her head slightly, and her little lower lip stuck out when she failed. She lowered her head- "I don't know..." -her little lips rose slightly, as if she were even thinking in the fog of having no ideas-
You, more practical than logical, rummaged through your reliable inventory. Your hand, now without even the barrier of your lost gloves, groped in the extensive darkness of the bag and remembered your items:
>inventory 4/8 -crossbow "A hairpin with a handle to which the ends of a rubber band are attached to stretch it and shoot small stones or pellets." That is how the RAE describes it. Charia calls it 'the thing to throw coconuts with' (Ranged weapon. Equipable.)
-fire flower spicy, nutritious, bite it once and the fire powerup activates! (+3HP and turn into Fire Dementia [single use])
-koopa leaf A leaf that koopas love to eat. It is said to be nutritious. (Recovers 3 DT) - large fang: once belonged to some legendary being, but it wasn't permanent so it fell off. Seems sharp enough to pierce stone.
>ammo bag -coconut (x15) Is it a coconut? A nut? The terror of Ribbon? Who knows... (Can be thrown with a slingshot to deal damage. Throw it by hand (roll 2) for a chance to stun an enemy.)
>Key Items: -Fairy Dust: a unique dust from fairies. Grants the ability to fly, among other things. This one is from the queen so it's special. (Belongs to Ribbon)
-Empty Bottle: a glass container meant to hold liquids... A bottle, basically.
-Ancient Scroll: an old scroll written in a language you can't understand. (Can be used to learn magic if you find someone who understands this language)
-Map 1: An ancient map marking a mysterious place of interest on some island in the ocean. (Received from Curly. Find someone who can read maps to travel to unknown areas like this.)
"Wow! Which of these things could someone use to carry water?"
<I wasn't even qualified for this... Odyssey... Did I say that right?
Ribbon looked curious, thought about commenting on the first part, but gave priority to your question.
"Oh, yes, Dementia. Odyssey..." -she confirmed, and tried to think of how to steer the conversation back to the previous topic, luckily you took care of that-
<I mean, I'm not even old enough to get married. Still about three years to go, a whole lot! But here we are... And I'm glad to have you as a companion.
"Three...?" -she asked, looking up at the sky with nostalgia- "The only fairy to ever get married was Queen Titania..."
Her name always brought mixed feelings. The love she felt seemed to lose out to the recent pain, even after all these years. But to that heart-wound, you added sugar with your tender confession, and the fairy was able to stay in the now before suffering the past. She looked at you, with renewed interest, loaded with that childish interest all little ones have when they think they're connecting the dots in real time.
"Are you almost ready to be a mommy, Dementia?" I watched you, and I couldn't believe it. Even if, by comparison, the Queen and you were barely distinguished in height, I saw both of you as very different. At that moment, you seemed much closer to herself or to Pumpkin than to the Queen or Oberon. That was at least the impression she had. And she didn't know why.
"..." -after that, she no longer avoided smiling- "I... I also..."
The thread of conversation, which had frayed, perhaps made that something a bit confusing. But she clearly meant that she was also glad you were her companion.
(She says she's glad to be your companion, she just went in circles.) -I clarified just in case to Little Red Riding Hood, in case things got weird-
You had rarely seen Ribbon so excited. Or perhaps that was a lie, since the fairy hides nothing. The important thing is that Midland fascinated her! Unfortunately, such wishes would come to nothing.
<Don't worry about the mount, we'll fix it...
"Hm." -she nodded, the little throat sound accompanying the silent affirmation and her smile-
<But before, I'd like to return to the Fairy Village.
"Oh? Why?" -she asked, disappointed, as if you had just forbidden her from going to the amusement park-
<I realized the obvious, and it's that they are very unprotected.
"Oh..." -her spirits sank, like her little body, just realizing that, and that came with the weight of worry-
<We should do something about it, don't you think? Prepare them to defend themselves if necessary.
"Uh- uh- b-but... It's a hidden village-" -she said, agitated, before abruptly falling silent with a start comparable to someone remembering they left the stove on- "Uh- Starlo must already know how to get there!" -she exclaimed, fluttering with nerves-
The Koopas were part of her army, the wolf her latest addition. And now with the Space Stone, she could travel to any point in this or any other dimension.
"Ay... Ay Dementia..." -she clutched her little chest in distress- "My chest, my chest!" -she waved her free hand, pressed her lips, and exclaimed holding her breath to make it sound forced; it was hard if she was really going to have something or not-
>>1835 https://youtu.be/IBB_4eHKYtk▶Once you got Ribbon to relax, which shouldn't have been too hard, you could appreciate the lake. Your fairy sighed. She was looking at the lake, so perfectly blue it was surprising. The trees, which were the natural walls of the small clearing, swayed their manes gently. They were leafy dancers to whom the breeze whispered the melodies that made them keep time with their heads.
But beyond the beauty, the primary observation was that even with the leaves rustling, there was no trace of the slightest green invader in the water.
>Ribbon "Hm..." -she murmured with a thoughtful face- "Hey!" -she exclaimed in one of those startles we give when discovering something, turning her face as serious as a lawyer who just found a blatant contradiction- "This is more of a pond!" -she concluded after that moment of observation, waving her little arms as fast as she could flap her wings-
Ribbon could distinguish them. And apparently, doing so was more important than paying attention to the supernatural cleanliness of the pond. After all, the supernatural was the natural here.
<if you really want to go to Midland...
She looked at you, her eyes shone like a starry sky that poets would give their hearts to. Her little hands joined in front of her chest in two upward fists that seemed on guard, but in reality only held excitement.
"I want to!" -she exclaimed, lifting off the ground with rapid flutters-
<You'll have to bathe first!
"Bathe...?" -she asked, slowly lowering her little face, she didn't lose the tender glow in her eyes, but the exultation waned, replaced by a affected baby sadness- "nu want... don't like bathimeh..." -after the baby talk, she extended her lower lip. Ribbon turned out to be one of those babies who avoid shampoo and soap until the last consequences-
It was easy to see she was just acting. You set the example, you untied your hood, and soon after you weren't Little Red Riding Hood anymore, but just Dementia. With golden skin under the divine glow with which the day painted you.
(I'll cover my eyes!)
Ribbon, on the other hand, watched. Her blinks indicated confusion, the kind of not knowing how to react. But the trust you had with your small body, well-toned by life, and barely blooming -more there than here- suggested calm to her.
https://youtu.be/xtSzaejLYwY▶ You walked, Ribbon followed with her gaze the golden trail of your loose hair, which joined nature in the slow waltz of the trees, swaying only the centimeters the breeze guided. You were like a painting, that treated the gaze with the fleeting glimpses your golden strands allowed your tender figure.
Ribbon was fascinated by the magical scene. She almost forgot you were a warrior while your small feet split the surface of the shallow water. It was cold, but you got used to it quickly.
You could go deeper, hiding your small curves in the blue, and blending your hair with the surface as it gained tenderness, forgetting about being messy to relax like you. You called Ribbon with a hand, and she, attracted by your comfort, took the steps that left her a palm's length from the shore. Still with huge curiosity, or fascination... or both, since sometimes they complement each other. She looked at you with her mouth open, and then, you threw water in her face! It was fast; she barely managed to kneel and close her eyes before the wet sound exploded in her face. She let out a tiny squeak, and that sealed her fate. When the contact between her face and the splash passed, she kept her eyes closed.
"Pfff"
She had to huff so hard to clear the water from her mouth. She was soaked, wiped her little eyes with her forearm, and then looked at you with the irritation one would expect from someone wearing a wet diaper.
"Dementiaaa! You threw water in my face!"
Apparently, throwing water wasn't a game Ribbon knew. She was more into tea parties, something you still owed her. Ribbon sighed. "Osh," she said, sounding whiny. Now she really needed a bath.
Frowning, she grabbed the little dress by the collar and pulled, holding her breath.
"Nnngh"
The pop sound it made once she could get the dress off her little head sounded like a plunger. She tossed the clothes aside, leaving her little chest exposed; it was small, like everything else about her. On her little body, there were two tiny strawberry yogurt stains side by side.
She looked thinner than she seemed in clothes. But if you looked closer, you'd notice from her chubby cheeks that she was still holding her breath. She didn't notice this and proceeded to take off her diaper before thinking to take a breath. She detached from it carelessly, and it fell by its own weight. Ribbon's femininity was there, highlighted by her chubby and flushed appearance. Ribbon CONCHA
She did a few foot movements and goodbye shoes. Then, her hands went up and finally removed, just like you, that which gave her her name. She dropped the little bun on the ground, and now she really seemed very naked.
Finally, she took the step that erased the inch of distance and stuck her thumb into the surface, making it splash.
"Eek!"
She pulled her foot away. The water seemed freezing! You then saw, in such carelessness, her little belly grow as she regained her breath. When she faced you, that little belly -no navel because she was born magically- stuck out as one would have imagined.
"Dementia, it's very cold!"
It surprised her not to have felt it like that when you threw it at her.
"I-it's okay, I can..." -she took steps back, creating distance- "I can..." -lifted a little foot- "I caaaan!" -she ran towards the lagoon to force herself to enter-
Ribbon ran a bit, and then thought better of it too late.
"I-I can't!"
She tried to stop. It sounded like a skid, and she managed it halfway. She ended up right at the edge, waving her little arms like windmills while trying to avoid falling.
"WaAaA~!"
She was balancing, like magicians who stand on chairs that are supported by a single leg. At that moment, the mind betrays you, just like it did Ribbon, because right there it never even occurred to her that she had wings. Did she then curse the desserts? Because that extra weight on her little belly seemed enough to make her tip forward and fall to that side.
"EEK, DEMENTIA CATCH ME!"
Catching her wasn't difficult. But it was your decision. Perhaps you would have had more fun watching her fall into the water.
3/4 (possible)
Here I tell you if you like the scene as it is and want to respond now. If you want me to extend it a little more, just reply to this post saying that Dementia catches her or lets Ribbon fall, and I'll write a bit more from there.
Your hands were already her platforms by that point, yet she kept screaming as if the cancelled fall hadn't been mere centimeters.
"Uh?"
She opened her eyes. Thanks to her near-fall, it had only taken a slight extension of your arms to catch her from below her little limbs. Your hands encircled her small torso, feeling the fine skin of her tenderest years.
You looked at her from that distance we use to gaze at what we hold in our hands, and she returned your gaze with the curiosity, or surprise, your rescue had caused her. In those huge eyes, and that little mouth again imitating the roundness of said eyes, reflected the pure innocence that allowed you to lower your weapons.
You could see her clearly. Her round cheek, once scratched, was now healed. Forgotten, save for a thin red line—the shadow the pain had left behind.
Pink on top, messy; pink on the bottom, intimate. Not a single hair out of place on that big head, which was the fullest part, filled with ideas. Second was her belly, full of love. And sweets.
You rarely got to see her so well. She looked so good that if you didn't know her, with that adorable figure and those little touches of blush, you might be fooled into thinking you held a cute cherub in your hands.
"Ah."
She said, looking down at the water. Her reflection seemed surprised to see her, but truth be told, it was just imitating. It also imitated her ritual of taking a breath, audibly through her nose. Getting ready. She lifted her gaze, and now the real you were imitating her.
It is said that magical beings cannot possess determination like humans do. But in her narrowed little eyes, you saw a clear resolve that stuck to her voice:
"Alright, Dementia, I'm ready!" —before anyone could ask why, she added— "Dunk me in the water!"
It was an order! But at the mere attempt to comply, she added: "E-E-WAIT!" -exclaiming- "eh..." -she curled up in your hands, her sides folding a bit into what we call rollies- "B-but don't let go..." -was she scared? She looked to the side- "It's so cold... If you let go I'm gonna jump..."
You'd just seen that, when she only tested the water. You'd have to hold her like those jumping sawfish that subdue bears. But it was just you against the bear, even if it was the cuddly kind.
"Slowly, please..."
If you listened, since she asked for care directly, you'd lower her. Her fingers were about to touch the water, so she lifted her feet up to her knees. When she reached them, there was no escape.
"Eep!"
Her skin touched the water and you felt it shivering down to the bones. She stretched her legs from the reflex of feeling something very cold, and that made them submerge too.
"Eek, so cold!"
She waved her little arms and body, but she was already halfway to the goal. You finished submerging her body into the lagoon in that spot that was only deep for her.
"Brrr..."
She shivered for a second.
"..."
She stopped, her face returning to the neutrality of total confusion.
"?" -she looked down at her little body now hidden up to her chest by the cloudy glass, the reflection smiled at her, and she showed it to you by lifting her own little face- "DEMENTIA, I DID IT!"
She waved her arms, but now happily. Sometimes, even when things seemed hard, it was just a matter of trying.
Ribbon smiled big, she had gotten used to the cold quickly. Then she lowered her hands, which submerged again.
"Uh... And now, Dementia?" -she asked looking up, you'd have to guide-
I have ideas, but I don't want to force scenes. I've already left it so that maybe you listen and yes, you put her in the water carefully. Also, as you know, you can change that to your liking. Dementia could grab Ribbon and use her to slam dunk a basketball hoop before she falls into the water if she wanted. I'll just change the scene I already wrote here to fit your actions.
Cece's turn tomorrow. I got inspired kek >>1838 >Looks like a Gerudo, or do all Gerudo look like Din? Secondly, we have to remember that Din shares a name with the primordial goddess from Zelda. So it comes from there. Same with Nayru and Farore.
Din gave the Gerudo their darkness.
>It's because in that game the star is Midna I know, and it's understandable, but at the same time it's, in part, a pity. I'm not saying it about the Zelda in that game, who we only see being solemn and such, but more about short-haired Alicia Ilia, she had so much potential. What a shame how they left her completely aside. She had the advantage of being a childhood friend and all little keks with that ending, she was totally devoted! But Link got bewitched by the damn dark world and abandoned her.
>A question capable of starting a war between two realms: Which do you prefer? Imp Midna or True Form Midna? Is there anyone who prefers the big form?
>Imp Midna full force, kek. Nintendo created a genre with her. I agree. It's impossible not to love her when you talk to her and she says "awgsgehw piiii" Kek that "piii" she said at the end with her sweet voice full of echo always liked me. And then the moan she made when you accelerated in wolf form. They knew what they were doing.
>Your impressions are making me want to play it again. But I can't, the backlog! The backlog! Little keks. It's crazy, the backlog just grows, and grows. It seems impossible to defeat! I almost give up.
>It's recommended to bump into her I did it, just to see her a couple of times. But it wasn't very useful to me honestly. Now I don't remember well if she dropped a potion once or if I'm imagining it, but that would be the only interesting thing. Well, and that after bumping into her a lot she started flying in a vacuum cleaner kek
>also hers, so you can steal from her, kek I always did it, Argensimio mode of Buenos Hambres, I didn't leave her a single cent. The worst part is that I didn't need it kek, I don't know how but most of the game I went with the rupees at max. >Surely many kids liked her attitude, they grew up, started drawing her, and that's when her fame solidified. She has that something that sparks a cute childish crush. I felt something similar when I was little towards some mean girls in cartoons; Maple wasn't mean-mean, but she was grumpy and haughty. That attracts too, kek. I get it, I get it.
>You'll have to wait for the Oracles to get remade so that, maybe, you can get some more interaction with her. Better make A Link To The Past more fun for me.
>Noooooo, you ruined one of my favorite races, I hate you! Little kek
>As a counter, I'll let you know that surely Saria turned into an ugly and short Kolog. Yeah, I had that in mind, little kek. If you recall, the Kokiri already become those since Wind Waker, although if I remember right they were still called Kokiri there. In fact, there's a theory that says they actually always looked like that, like leafs, but hid their appearance so Link would feel comfortable. To me it doesn't seem like that makes much sense because when you meet Mido as an adult and he doesn't recognize you he looked the same kek. But it's there, whoever wants to believe it is free.
What I will debate with you is the ugly part. My beautiful Saria would be a BEAUTIFUL Kolog.
>Do you know which Zeldas I have pending? The DS ones. I feel like downloading an emulator and giving them a try. Well go ahead, but know that, as far as I remember, they are those games that make the most of the DS. You'll have to assign a blow button, and I think it's played purely with the touch screen (but I'm speaking from hearing half-baked things a long time ago, things I don't remember well so take it with a grain of salt). Luckily for you, emulation of those games is already perfect. It's not that they are heavy, it's that I understand there were silly things where you couldn't progress without doing certain physical actions, like closing the console at a certain point. That can already be emulated like nothing.
>>1836 >>1837 The high ceiling, with golden engravings, sheltered you from the night in its luminous womb. Or rather, in the uterus, where art was gestated. Where the pieces that watched you were born, and which were once a fragment within a head.
Bodies surrounded you. Trapped on canvases, or constructed from plastic in the eternal silence of objectification. You respected, and imitated the quiet nature of those around you, and took those steps with the care that thieves would wish to have.
Naturally, you made no noise. The wings surrounding your ankle silenced your feet. It was like a killer pillow. Even if you wore heels, you would make no sound, your feet were gagged like the screams of the suffocated.
But that didn't remove the habit. The wings were new, the habits were old. Even if you didn't have the former, you would have the certainty that your cautious steps would have been lost among the notes of that piano struck with frenzy.
But perhaps, those of the others too. You looked back. Several times. And always the mannequin returned your gaze. Without eyes. Lifeless. Soulless. Still in its place as since it was brought.
Perhaps it was once used to try on certain clothes. Other times, to simulate a pose. It was manufactured to be, and never stop being. It couldn't follow you, perhaps that was the reason for your distrust? Things going against their nature are unsettling. There was, however—according to the various sporadic glances you gave it—nothing to indicate that this object was going to defy its reality. There were more real things to worry about.
Alice was one of them. Lost in the darkness. The darkness that fell in the painting could not help but remind you of her. You caressed the oil paint, your fingers felt the almost imperceptible wrinkles of the paint as you compared Alices.
The last thing you remembered of her was that golden hair. So yellow it was noticeable in the dense night, disappearing among the trees and the mist of the cursed forest. Her goodbye was laughter and her whereabouts became uncertain. Lost in the darkness... was she who you saw on the canvas. With yours, you could only imagine.
Hopefully, she didn't end up in the jaws of that monster that watched you in the darkness. That rotten beast, falling apart like a forbidden temple where no one should be. Those eyes pierced you with a coldness that the flat face of a mannequin could never achieve. For half a second, it paralyzed you in the way only the greatest of predators can.
You tried to take refuge in the distance of a step, and the wall behind you held you back as if it wanted you to face your fear with unusual malice... but that was enough for you to see that it was just a painting.
A stupid painting.
You breathed to recover. Your chest, racing, seemed to pump sweat instead of blood. Your forehead had enough icy drops to indicate cutting on the dotted line. It took an instant that you didn't waste in dedicating. You rebelled against your emotions and put one foot in front of the other to face the painting, which was as large as the head of the real beast. The one that could have dissolved you in acid with a single bite, reducing you to a memory that would soon be forgotten.
And you rebelled against its image. Before the newly nicknamed forbidden temple, you dared to step. Your silent sole crushed the canvas. Its surface sank slightly, flexible, but the paint itself cracked under your feet like glass does, and the brushstrokes began to crackle everywhere. Pieces of paint separated and fell, revealing the white canvas underneath. Like lines of light born from the blackness surrounding the animal, and tearing it as well as if it were harming it. Once you stepped off the plant, the ripping sound of tearing paper chased your foot as a hole the size of your shoe opened in the canvas. You saw your reinterpretation of the work, it was now as if your footsteps left a great spiderweb, as the canvas had cracked completely, not to mention there was now a large hole in the wolf's head.
The last column of that forbidden temple has collapsed.
With it, the last thing distracting you from the desperate melody also fell. You followed the trail of music like snakes that writhe, enchanted by certain notes from a certain instrument. You found the culprit, eager to kill the piano with every violent keystroke. His fingers crashed against the keys and the sound exploded from the instrument like a shriek. A translation of the pain that reflected his face, but which was otherwise mute.
Confidence has led many to the grave, but suspicion drove you. A motor of careful movements, which you used to advance with the utmost stealth that haste allows until you found yourself on the other side.
The glass under the light, otherwise transparent, reflected you minimally. Your eyes soon ignored your translucent, perplexed face to allow you to admire the product of your desire. Standing upside down on a diagonal, supported by an acrylic stand resembling a Greek iota.
You let out a bit of life in a half-breath, but your hands rushed to prevent its escape. But not the fright that accompanied it. You turned quickly, and found that the music that didn't stop behind you hadn't lied. Cosimo was still at the piano, with that desperation that proved almost contagious.
You ran the couple of meters separating you from the display case, crushing your counselor, stealthy suspicion, on the way to cling to that stand like insects that died in the yard by sticking to the lamps. Your fingers, feeling the glass to know it in an emotional blindness, felt the cold of distance in every centimeter of its surface. It was real, being close made it more obvious. It was Napoleon, and between you and him was a solid barrier that reminded you of his existence, leaving the imprints of your sweaty hands for a brief second after each touch.
It seemed firm, and although you also saw a small lock on the right in the middle of the glass, you ignored it, for reasons you perhaps couldn't even recognize at that moment, and started shaking the display case.
https://youtu.be/8fcy2X06VH4?t=78▶ Your hands accompanied the pianist's in a desperate rhythm. You moved your hands as you would with a vending machine that gives you nothing. But it didn't budge an inch. One would quickly understand that the display case was fixed to the floor, and was perhaps as hard as it. Your chest quickened, and you signaled your lungs like an orchestra conductor to join in the desperation. You let out gasps that you were just starting to hide in droves, your gaze abruptly left the glass, and your scan of the place was like that of a headbanging musician.
You looked here, canvas. You looked there. Wall. You looked. Mannequins. You looked. You looked. You looked. Nothing. You looked...
There. A fragile-looking vase diagonally to your right, right in front of something covered by a tablecloth. You snatched the urn from the floor, heard a small sound inside, but ignored it. You lifted it over your head, and threw the container with all your body's strength.
The impact wasn't long in coming. The characteristic crash of hollow porcelain shattering filled the room... as the urn broke into pieces, and fell without even marking the display case.
https://youtu.be/HQj78oXGrhw▶ It happened at the same time. At the moment of impact, a discordant note. Or several at once, burst in, and broke Cosimo's song with their formless screech.
If hearing is the first thing that alerts us to danger, at that moment, that blow so... badly struck amidst perfection... followed by the silence of the culprits, could have alerted us.
And it would have been right.
At that instant. Cosimo turned towards you, and although that angry frown already showed obvious fury, you could somehow feel, in those eyes, the purest desire to harm you've ever felt.
The eyes in which you were trapped expanded, and your silhouette in the irises was consumed by the black pit of the widened pupils, which were now touching the white of the sclera, revealed up to the limit to which only the greatest surprise can lead us.
He held that gaze for the miserable second that the silence lasted. After that, his eyebrows descended to the level of the calm already shared with the rest of his face. The corners of his lips curved upward in a nearly imperceptible way. A smile as fine as the legs of a spider, with which he deigned to stand up.
>Cosimo "Ahh..." -he adjusted his tie, then let his hands drop to his sides, taking a small moment of silence more to look at you better with slight satisfaction transmitted in his drooping eyelids and that weak grace in his lips-
He extended his hands in front of his abdomen, with his fingers open and pointing towards you, following his habits of a good presenter.
"Welcome... princess."
The left hand went up to cover his heart, the other was extended to the side.
"My name is Cosimo..."
He inclined the upper body without breaking eye contact, and confirmed you in his reverence:
"I am at your service."
Cosimo straightened up and took a few steps closer. The soles of his shoes made an echo that occasionally replaced the total silence that filled the room.
"I notice something..."
His eyes dropped for an instant, leaving the sensation of the looks on your chest, which inflated and retracted to the rhythm of your gasps. Then he regained eye contact.
"...nervous."
He stopped his walk once the distance was optimal for conversation. And although he didn't seek to intimidate, he made you feel small with his one meter eighty and good posture. But with the relaxation well-placed in that look of fullness in times of calm, he bowed again. He extended his hand, giving you the bridge from which he would share his parsimony.
"Could you suggest sitting down and resting a bit before telling me what I can do for you?"
He assumed something had brought you to his space. And a bit further back there was a good place to sit. Perhaps you needed it.
Meanwhile, at your feet, something shone among the tiny fragments of destroyed urn.
Very small, none are tier swords btw. Get used to it because they're just the typical item container of a game kek 2/2
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