scraph

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The death of the MSPA forums finally managed to do something I had never been able to bring myself to - it delivered the long overdue end to my beloved but entirely exhausted forum adventure, Complexity 101. This is my attempt at filling the puzzleventure-shaped hole that was left in my head, except at some point the plot I introduced to justify the weird puzzle shit accidentally swallowed it whole. The resultant adventure no longer makes any sense whatsoever, which is probably for the best. Hopefully it'll be an enjoyable experience for anyone prepared to put up with it, though if it doesn't devolve into me openly despairing in thread as people grapple fruitlessly with complete misinterpretations of my badly executed enigmas then I will have failed to live up to C101's legacy and thus will have failed myself.

...gee, I'm really selling this, aren't I?

(also Ix takes full responsibility for the name, despite the fact I "proposed" it originally, but they wouldn't let me get away with calling this shambles-in-waiting anything else)

You didn't think that would work.

this space is intentionally left blank

(I am probably going to need it later)

north

What did you think was going to happen?

go north

Dig in!

count the sand

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head northwards

NORTH... NORTH... NORTH...

> Eat the delicious sand.

It may have worked, but did it work correctly?

walk northways

What did you think was going to happen?

You thought you were going to die.

...you probably will still, but not, like, immediately.

count the sand

There is more sand in your mouth than there should be. There is more sand in your nose than there should be. There is more sand in your everything than there should be.

> Eat the delicious sand.

Sand, as it turns out, tastes of regret. Slightly salty, bitter regret. The best kind of regret.

Dig in!

You do not want to be in the sand any more than you want the sand to be in you.


You are lying almost face-down, your chin settled awkwardly on the sand, with your arms splayed back and your legs off doing their own thing somewhere in the far distance. You are snorting and spluttering and trying to cough up your tongue. You are in no fit state to be leaping about exuberantly - at least, not yet. You are going to have to stand up at some point, though. You're not looking forward to that.

...

You spit out some more sand.

It may have worked, but did it work correctly?

You drag your arms back towards your torso and prop yourself up on them like a sea lion. You make for a really shit sea lion, but at least this pose lets you look around a little. If, and it's a damn big if, everything worked out perfectly, it shouldn't have ma-

Oh. It just landed over there. Okay.

...

That's honestly not as bad as it could have been. You have the vague feeling you shouldn't be staring directly at it, mind. You definitely shouldn't be coughing sand in its general direction.

...

You keep staring at it.

north

And now your head hurts.

go north

Your head really hurts.

head northwards

What started as a gentle throb near the back of your skull has hacked its way forward and is now ramming needles through your forehead.

NORTH... NORTH... NORTH...

Something isn't right.

walk northways

You need to stand up.

stand up like it's open mic night

> Crawl over to the thing.

do that thing

pour sand over thing

North into the thing

Maybe get into a sit before you stand. It's hot and strange and the last thing you want is all the blood rushing to and/or draining from your head all at once 'n getting dizzy off it.

Is there anything else to stare at, 'roundabouts? Maybe some source of shade, or water, or...? Any landmark of any kind, really.

>roll over, roll over

>roll over, roll over

beethoven

stand up like it's open mic night

You can't stand up.

North into the thing

And yet... you need to know. You need to make sure it's safe to move on. Sooner or later, someone will realise what you did, and if it turns out your last-ditch desperate idea is nothing more than a needlessly gruelling way of postponing death by a minute or two...

do that thing

You resolve to get up, march over there and give it a damned good kicking. Fuck it, you'll kick its face... one of its faces in, stomp on an corner, crumple an edge; the whole works. See how much it likes that, hey?

...

You legs feel like they're made of sand. More likely they're merely covered in it, but they feel fuzzy and warm and you're not entirely sure where your right one thinks it is.

Also, your head still hurts. Your eyes are sat in a sauna full of spikes and something is trying to fold your skull into a paper plane. Or, shit, a bone plane. Whatever. You're in too much pain to have got that right first time. You're honestly amazed you're still thinking clearly.

...

Okay, that's being incredibly generous.

> Crawl over to the thing.

Honestly, you don't have to stand up. You could just drag yourself over there, keeping your head reasonably level for the time being. That might work.

pour sand over thing

And actually touching it is probably not a good idea. Simply chucking some sand at it should be more than enough to provoke a response.

Shit, this sounds like a plan.

>roll over, roll over

You try to shake your right leg out of the sand.

...

You fall over. That was not part of the plan.

...

Anguished, you roll over and accept defeat.

...

It's like something is trying to claw your eyes out from inside your head. You wonder if you can get your hands anywhere near your face.

Ah. Shit.

Maybe get into a sit before you stand. It's hot and strange and the last thing you want is all the blood rushing to and/or draining from your head all at once 'n getting dizzy off it.

Is there anything else to stare at, 'roundabouts? Maybe some source of shade, or water, or...? Any landmark of any kind, really.

You're not going to last long enough for shade to be in any way relevant. Water likewise. Turns out things have gone the opposite of north...

In light of this, you should probably try to sit up.

you know, this "roll over beethoven" business got me thinkin' 'bout classic rock. why did "stairway to heaven" become this big song? it just kinda meanders along, from a slow section that comes off as simultaneously over-earnest and phony then into an uptempo undercooked rock section that doesn't rock. it's more laughable than anything. "kashmir" is alright i guess and i like "ramble on" because it's fuckin' funny when they start singing about mordor and gollum getting laid

what i'm saying is: that new thing in almost the exact center of the panel, the clear object of emphasis? fuck it, turn around and go the exact opposite direction. also do something about your fucked-up purple hands, barney

try standing up again but better this time