Gaming Steve Message Board
Games, Games, and More Games => Storytelling and Roleplaying => Topic started by: Inkling on September 17, 2013, 06:28:48 pm
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Hey guys! Let's do a game/story where you give me suggestions for what our main character will do! It'll be fun! Also there may be poll sometimes.
Your name is Billy Neary, and after a lot of hard work, you've just moved in to your very own house! Tired of noisy neighbors downtown, you've moved to a secluded spot in the woods on the outskirts of the suburbs. It's a small two story house set in the side of a hill, with all the room an awesome bachelor such as yourself could need!
It's somewhere between Friday night and Saturday morning, and the last of your friends have left. You were hosting a cheesy scary movie marathon on your stupidly large tv. As dumb as the movies were, you still have thoughts of monsters and serial killers lingering in the back of your mind as you stare up at the ceiling in your bed, in your empty house, out in the woods somewhere, alone. You laugh at yourself and finally start to drift to sleep, when you wake up again with a start. There's a faint, strange light outside. Maybe there was a full moon tonight? Maybe you were asleep longer than you thought, and it's dawn? You ignore it and roll over to go back to sleep, only to hear a loud thud of something falling to the floor downstairs. Something's wrong down there.
What do you do?
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I think it's time for Billy Neary to get the hell out of his house. He should grab the emergency bag he's got stashed away in the closet, it's filled with the necessities. Then he better run out onto the balcony and jump to the roof so he can climb down to the ground and not have to go downstairs. The car is right out there and the keys are on the dresser.
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But he just was partying! He is groggy, possibly drunk, so he loses his balance and falls from the second story window onto an outstretched portion of roof that doubles as shade over his porch, causing him to roll down into the side of the hill!
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He needs to grab the most bludgeon-like object his bleary eyes can make out and make his way toward the top of the stairs to listen for anything else.
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The solution is pretty simple.
He should go out on his balcony and fire two shotgun blasts into the air.
Problem solved.
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It was nothing. Go back to sleep.
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Your fertile imagination is inspired by the noise and you construct an elaborate "choose your path" style game. You immediately start a thread on your favourite message board.
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Your fight or flight instinct kicks in, and your groggy, alcohol and bad movie soaked brain decides to go with flight. As quietly as possible, you put your pants back on and stuff your keys in your pocket. You grab the backpack from last weekend's hiking trip you never unloaded and head to the window to make your daring escape.
But as you open the blinds, you have second thoughts. Is that strange light brighter than it was before? And your roof looks very slippery from dew and wet leaves. If you went that way, you'd probably slide off the roof and break your neck.
As you wake up some more, your brain switches from flight to fight. This is your house, dammit. You would get your shotgun and fire off a warning blast or two into the air, but that wouldn't be very good for your ceiling. Also, you don't have a shotgun. You make a mental note to go to the gun store in the morning.
You unzip the backpack as quietly as possible and feel around for a weapon. You find a pocketknife and a large maglite flashlight. You slip the knife into your pocket, hold the flashlight like a club, and sneak as quietly as possible to the stairs.
You strain your ears as you listen for any other noises downstairs. Just before you decide it was your imagination and go back to bed, you hear a clunk of something metal falling on the floor, followed by what sounds like scraping on the floor of the kitchen.
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It appears we have visitors. Switch on the light and welcome our guest(s) to your home/planet. Show some hospitality!
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ITS CLOBBERIN' TIME! (You're still drunk)
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It was nothing. Go back to sleep.
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You figure the best defense is to convince the intruders you're bat**** crazy. Remove all your clothes, smear yourself in faeces, walk towards them in a sumo squat pose, and once you see them, make eye contact and just keep screaming.
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None of this sneaking around in the darkness nonsense, you decide. Monsters and house invaders like the darkness. You're gonna go down there and clobber the daylights out of whoever broke into your house.
You turn on the lights over the stairs, charge down, and flail wildly at the light switch for the living room. Then you jump around the corner into the kitchen, swat the lights on, and let out your best attempt at a drunken angry hobo battle cry to show that you're crazy and mean business.
The door to your fridge is wide open and a mostly empty gallon of milk is in a puddle on the floor. Wet tracks lead from the milk puddle back in to the living room. They look like... bird tracks? Really big bird tracks, with three toes in the front and one in the back.
You kick the door shut and follow the tracks back into the living room, still trying to maintain a battle posture and angry warrior face. The tracks fade away as they go across the carpet, but they point to the closet door on the other side of the room. Man, this milk is going to be a pain in the butt to clean up. Also, something seems out of place in the room, but you haven't figured it out yet.
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Ask the giant bird if it thinks anything looks out of place.
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(http://i.imgur.com/z6rnIOh.png)
Open the closet while humming the Sesame Street theme tune. He'll understand.
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It was nothing. Go back to sleep.
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"Hah hah, this sure is a weird dream," You say out loud. trying to convince yourself. So, there's some kind of monster in your closet. That's cool, this is the kind of dream you should be having after watching those dumb movies. Might as well get it over with. Flashlight still at the ready, you throw open the closet door to find:
(http://i255.photobucket.com/albums/hh153/Not_Inkling/closetowl.jpg)
Huh. It's an owl, after all. A really big one, like two or three feet tall. It's sitting there just looking up at you. Are owl eyes supposed to be that big? And it's feet look like it's wearing rubber gloves or something. As if to break the awkward silence of you two staring at each other, it hoots twice. But its body doesn't move at all, and it sounds almost like it's a recording.
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The serial killer to be known as The Owl Killer is behind you.
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Hug the owl. Owls love hugs.
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You've obviously been spiked. Get yourself a glass of milk and go watch public access television until you're sober enough to go back to sleep.
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Hug the owl. Owls love hugs.
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It occurs to you that while you've been in a staring contest with this owl thing, you haven't been paying attention to anything else in the house. This thing could be some kind of decoy and the real intruder could be right behind you. You spin around to make sure no one else is in the room. And the room decides to keep spinning for a second or two. ...Yep, still drunk, but no one else is in here. You turn back to the closet to find that the owl has vanished. You slowly look over your shoulder to see the owl sitting on the coffee table in front of your sofa staring right at you. Hey, that's what was out of place earlier. The table had been covered with snack bowls and assorted cups, cans, and bottles of alcohol. You were going to clean them up in the morning. Now there's no sign of them anywhere in the room, and the table is completely empty except for the owl.
"Heeey, buddy!" You say to the owl. "It's been a weird night. We just need to.... calm down a bit. C'mere, let's go get a nice glass... do owls drink from glasses? Let's go get a nice bowl of milk from the kitchen, and watch Bob Ross until we feel better."
You reach out with both hands to pick up the owl and carry him to the kitchen. It lifts up one wing and- is that a hand? Owls don't have hands. There's a thing in the center of its palm. You decide that this definitely isn't an owl, just as everything goes black.
You wake up with a start. The sun is shining through the window. You ignore it and roll back over to go to sleep. Wait. You sit up in bed and rub your eyes. Man, what was that? That was one weird, vivid dream. No way you're going to be able to go back to sleep after that.
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Get up and make yourself a balanced breakfast.
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You'll be hung over, so better make that a Full Breakfast.
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With waffles.
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Masturbate.
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Masturbate.
Yes. the endorphins will help with your hangover.
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Update your blog about the owl dream.
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Man, such a weird dream, you think as you rub your eyes. You'll have to mention it on your blog or facebook or something. You get out of bed and yawn deeply, and notice that your throat and lungs feel all... itchy. Must be allergies kicking in. But you know exactly what will make you feel better: a huge breakfast, and maybe a little of your lazy weekend exercise routine.
(http://i255.photobucket.com/albums/hh153/Not_Inkling/homershakeweight_2.gif)
You shuffle over to the door to go downstairs and reach for the handle, but miss. Wait... you try again and pay more attention. Your hand goes right through the handle, like it was a hologram. You run your hand over the door. Even though it still looks like your normal wooden door, it feels smooth like glass. Pounding on the door sends a shimmering ripple over the surface and across the wall. You are beginning to think that this may not be your bedroom after all.
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Sink to your knees, pounding on the door and crying.
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Go back to sleep.
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It was nothing.
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It's probably no big deal. Go to the bathroom and take a piss, then go back to the door and see if it got fixed.
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Try to remember if you were drugged or diagnosed with a mental disorder recently.
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Look WEST
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Or out a window.
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Just dance.
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Spin that record baby
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Da da doo doo-mmm!
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gonna be okay
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This might be one of those Lucid Dream things. Just know that you can walk through the wall and end up downstairs, and then do it.
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You pound on the door some more, slamming your body against it and sliding to the ground, wailing to get out. Nothing happens, except the wailing makes your throat hurt more.
You try the door to the bathroom, it's the same as the other door.
You look out the window. It looks like a normal sunny morning. You try to open it, but there's nothing to grab on to, same as the doorknobs.
"It's all just a dream. It's gotta be a dream." You say out loud. You climb back in bed. "So, I just go back to sleep, right?" You sit in bed for a few minutes, wide awake. You remember that if it's a lucid dream, you should be able to do whatever you want. You try to push your hand through the wall behind you. Nothing happens. Since it's gotta be a dream, you try to levitate off the bed. That doesn't work either, you just bounce on the bed a few times.
Just as you completely run out of ideas, the wall in front of you ripples again. It fades to show what looks like a stereotypical gray alien looking into your room, sitting in front of some kind of control panel. The owl thing is sitting on a platform or stool next to it. It looks like one of your snack bowls is on the alien's head. It smiles and waves at you.
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Stare at it, then the ceiling, blinking and rubbing your eyes before a double take. If still there, imagine it is a bunny. If that fails, this is not a dream. Pee.
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Wave back and introduce yourself. No need to be rude.
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Pee.
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Hug the alien. Aliens love hugs.
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Wave back and do an interpretative dance in front of the alien to entice a response.
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Find a few small items. Put one item next to a "1", two next to a "2" (and nothing next to "0") and so on up too ten so they understand how that we have a concept of numbers and how to read our's.
Then write out 100 digits of pi next to a circle.
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You do realize that requires !10 of these small items just to map the information in our base 10 system. So that means 55 items. Then to write out the first 100 digits of pi would be 3.1415926535897932384626433832795028841971693993751058209749445923078164062862089986280348253421170679, so let me take a second to add this all up.
That's 474 items, along with something to explain as decimals, and a place-holder to represent 0 items in something other than a lack of an example.
That's really complicated. I think what would be better would be to: Wave back, and then position yourself with your palms visible, in a non threatening position. If contact is possible, begin by pointing to yourself and saying "Human". This is our new name until we return home. Then gesture to the ETI for them to follow suit. Provide more examples as needed.
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That's 474 items,
No, it's 55 items. You use those to establish the symbols then use those symbols to write out pi.
and a place-holder to represent 0 items in something other than a lack of an example
I think they'll figure it out.
along with something to explain as decimals
Good point actually. Draw "1.5" and put one and a half of whatever you've been using next to it.
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Oh, so we are also writing things?
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Yes. On reflection I could have made the clearer.
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You do realize that requires !10 of these small items just to map the information in our base 10 system.
hnnnnng
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Ignore all the ****ty thoughts you keep having about numbers of objects, that's an order!
Signed: Your Brain
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Say "what's up?"
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Ponder as to the true nature of up.