Noise Lights: A Text Adventure- Sweet and Sour Victory - Printable Version +- Eagle Time (https://eagle-time.org) +-- Forum: Cool Shit You Can Do (https://eagle-time.org/forumdisplay.php?fid=4) +--- Forum: Forum Adventures (https://eagle-time.org/forumdisplay.php?fid=5) +--- Thread: Noise Lights: A Text Adventure- Sweet and Sour Victory (/showthread.php?tid=1563) |
RE: Noise Lights: A Text Adventure- I am the jaguar, goo goo gajoob - tegerioreo - 08-13-2019 Take a moment to collect your thoughts, and sparkplugs. RE: Noise Lights: A Text Adventure- I am the jaguar, goo goo gajoob - El Santo - 08-17-2019 Put up your dukes, its time to teach this Car-Boy a lesson in fisticuffs, also aim below the belt, he has to have some lug nuts that are sensitive. Ahold Thyself RE: Noise Lights: A Text Adventure- Sweet and Sour Victory - typeandkey - 10-30-2019 (08-17-2019, 07:25 AM)El Santo Wrote: »>Ahold Thyself [CONGRATULATIONS! YOU HAVE CHOSEN TO REPLACE ‘STAT TAT’ WITH ‘AHOLD THYSELF’. THIS IS A DECISION WITH WHICH YOU SHALL NEVER COME TO REGRET. TRULY.] (08-13-2019, 01:25 AM)tegerioreo Wrote: »>Take a moment to collect your thoughts, and spark plugs. You stare at the ceiling as you try to process exactly what led you to your current situation. Something you do quite often. You’re not worried about Car-You. If what you think happened has happened, he won’t be a problem anymore. Let’s see… You woke up in your brother’s truck in the middle of the woods near a shack at dusk. This was a strange turn of events as you specifically remembered arriving at dawn. You’re also damn sure that the truck’s bed wasn’t filled with blood thirsty psycho-snakes when you started too. Small obstacles, however. Through your own forces of sheer ingenuity and skill, you were able to masterfully navigate your way through the mental labyrinth of archimedean problems that were laid before you. Your amazing perception allowed you to immediately find the car keys hanging from the truck’s antenna outside. Since the windows were electric, and the pushpins for the locks were broken off, you had to make due with your window being open only a crack. Though, opening the widow is not something you remember doing, or hanging the car keys outside on the antenna, for that matter. With your magnificent nonlinear problem solving, you were able to fashion a pile of wire coat hangers, something you don’t remember bringing, into a long hook allowing you to retrieve the keys with a minimum of fuss. The snakes completely flipped out and went all over the place when you started the truck. This was another trivial problem you were able to solve within mere moments. You backed the truck up and crushed a bunch of them, then you tossed an open vial of blood that came from someone who was definitely not you, because how the man who sold it to you was able to get it is something you refuse to think about, out the window. When the blood of potential prey mixed with theirs, they went into a feeding frenzy and tore each other to shreds. If you were a lesser man, the unholy sounds they made would haunt your waking nightmares for the rest of your life. After the excitement outside concluded, you marched inside the shack with an air of dignity that would make all the emperors who matter curl their mustaches in envy. You were very disappointed to find out that the shack was actually smaller on the inside rather than larger like you were promised, but because you are a bastion of focused maturity, you were able to shrug this off like it was nothing and continue with your mission without dwelling on it in any way. During your exploration you found that the trapdoors in the ceiling and floor were connected in the form of space bending portals when you saw yourself on the level below. However, it became apparent that there were more portals than you initially thought when your portal reflection turned out to be a monster that superficially looked like you if you had light bulbs for eyes and had sparking electric wires sticking out of every orifice. Using your superior intellect and martial prowess, you were able to dispatch your stupid, ugly doppelganger by tossing him down the trapdoor which had turned into a tunnel of portals that led to more and more shacks. Further exploration revealed that there were even more portals than you realized, when you looked out the windows you saw a poorly disguised concrete room painted to look like a forest scene and with sprinklers meant to simulate rain. You were also attacked by another doppelganger mutant, this one with headlights for eyes, spark plugs for teeth, and a working car engine sticking out of his back. Naturally you were able to deal with this one just as easily as the first, using your charisma and innate sense of timing to position him between the trapdoors resulting in him colliding with the other freak-beast sending them both tumbling down the infinitely looping portal tunnel whose mechanics you were able to understand immediately after glancing at them only once, because you are just that damn good. Further exploration followed, but when you found nothing of relevance to your very deliberately thought out and not vague at all mission, you decided to shift your focus to the thing you noticed and never forgot about hidden under the shirt of the electric wire monster when you kicked him. With a very well planned method of hunting, you sprung into action with the express purpose of search and destroy. Your innate sense of direction allowed you to almost immediately find the Wire-You monster. Through your mastered techniques in stealth, you were able to sneak up on him, catch him completely unawares, and beat the ever loving crap out of him. You killed him until he was dead. Your suspicions were proven correct, as they always are, when you checked under his shirt to find a small control panel. You have always had a perfect sense of your surroundings, so when Car-You tried sneaking up on you, you were able to effortlessly whirl around and catch him before he so much as laid a finger on you. A brief tug o’ war ensued, but with you using your rippling natural strength, he didn’t stand a chance. You tugged so hard that you’re reasonably sure that you ripped him in half. Now, you did see the scene behind him in the window change, suggesting the portal switched while he was halfway through it, but that doesn’t seem very likely. No really. [STATUS CHANGED TO TIRED] You open your eyes again and see the dangling light bulb above swinging erratically in every direction. That’s odd. There’s no breeze in here and you didn’t hit the floor that hard. You exhale sharply. The immediate danger is gone. Car-You isn’t screeching out fake car noises anymore, and the sounds from the engine sticking out of his back are slowing down and getting quieter. Is this really worth it? You believe there are undeniable truths at play here. They are indeed undeniable because you are the one believing in them. Anything else is just unthinkable. How did that quote go? “Reality is that which continues to exist when you stop believing in it.” Whoever said that was obviously a narcissist. Undeniable truth number one: You are one of best lovable scoundrels on the market. Undeniable truth number two: Your services are highly sought after and any evidence to the contrary is baseless slander. Undeniable truth number three: You were chosen by the Noise Lights to be the arbiter of a great change. This shack is were it will all begin. They said… What was it they said? They said to come out here and… And… Why does your head hurt so much? Is your nose bleeding again? No, not this time. On top of all that, there is one undeniable truth that undeniably rings more undeniably true than all the others, undeniably. Undeniable truth number zero: spark plugs are fucking expensive. [STATUS CHANGED TO OPPORTUNISTIC] (08-17-2019, 07:25 AM)El Santo Wrote: »>Put up your dukes. It's time to teach this Car-Boy a lesson in fisticuffs, also aim below the belt, he has to have some lug nuts that are sensitive. You immediately hop up to your feet and stash the control panel in your inventory. You see Car-You laying on the floor at the other end of the room just below the window. As you approach him, he looks at you beseechingly and reaches out to you the way a dying man would reach out to an angel. You get down on your knees directly in front of him and lock eyes. He opens his mouth to speak. His words no longer coincide with the flashing of his headlight eyes, they finally sync up with the movements of his mouth. Through gurgling labored gasps, he speaks. Car-You: “It.. wasn’t… ou- Blmph belck mrglhmf!” You jam the fingers of both your hands into his mouth and attempt to grab as many of his spark plug teeth as you can. He attempts to bite down on your fingers, but he just doesn’t have the strength to do any real damage. He violently shakes his head until he dislodges your now oil stained fingers from his mouth. His expression is hard to read, but you get the distinct feeling that he’s glaring at you. Black, gritty oil dribbles from his mouth in streams as he shakily inhales through his teeth and tries again. Car-You: “It.. wasn’t… our- Flerghph glerpptle murksphlgleg!!” He is interrupted again when you grab him by the chin with one hand and use the other to go for his incisors. He hisses around your hand and grabs both of your wrists. With one last burst of strength, Car-You forces your hands to the sides. When he opens his mouth a large black bubble forms and pops, splattering oil on your shirt. He wheezes in short breathes. Car-You: “It wasn’t our… F-… Fault...” His eyes go out and his engine stops. He lets go of your wrists and collapses on the floor. He doesn’t move again. You stare at him, his broken body splayed out on the floor. What a way to go. You think about what he said. Implications are broiling in your mind. Is there a deeper meaning here? Perhaps deciphering his message is part of your mission. But more importantly, you use the mallet in your inventory to tap several of his teeth loose. [4 SPARK PLUG TEETH ADDED TO INVENTORY] You guess this means… You win. Ha. HA! HA HA HA HA! YOU WIN! YOU WIN AGAIN! There was never any doubt. You hop up to your feet and pump your fist in the air. You win again! You win again! Neener-neener-neener! You being dancing around. Pointing accusingly at the battered and bisected bodies of your freakish doppelgangers. They thought they could get you, but you got them instead! HA! Man, it is good to be alive. Just breath in that smell of victory. Sniff-sniff. Hmmm. It smells like industrial chemicals, rotten wood, and machine oil. You run back over to Car-You and begin kicking him the side. Normally you’d aim for the below the belt region, being a lovable rogue and all, but that’s not really an option all things considered. Plus, you don’t want to stick your foot in the oil soaked gore of where his waist used to be. You stop kicking and take a deep breath after you feel his ribs crack. Ah, that felt good. Now that you’ve relieved your built up stress by indulging in some well deserved pay back, you put your mind back to more important tasks. You pull the control panel out of your inventory and begin observing it again. It is a small, narrow rectangle and all the buttons look identical. Hoo boy, what should you do now? Player Statistics: RE: Noise Lights: A Text Adventure- Sweet and Sour Victory - El Santo - 10-31-2019 Take a long and studied look at the control panel, you remember back to when you took a engineering class in school, and promptly left said class after trying to punch out the professor for calling your work ok. Proceed to jam the spark plug teeth into every small opening you can find, if they don't fit take your mallet and MAKE THEM FIT! If that doesn't work try placing pennies behind the spark plugs then start pressing buttons and pulling levers, one of the buttons has to do something useful First Oak damn it. RE: Noise Lights: A Text Adventure- Sweet and Sour Victory - tegerioreo - 10-31-2019 Find codex entries from the Electricity People world and the Car People world, describing a semi-mythical monster made entirely of meat and bone. It is said that this creature can take the form of a hideous caricature of its victim (whom it viciously pummels and often bisects, afterward performing crass indignities upon the corpse.) Shudder as you read the gruesome tales, praying that you never meet this fearsome beast. |