Start of a transcript of The Blossom An uncanny diary by Olaf Nowacki Release 0 / Serial number 230731 / Inform 7 build 6M62 (I6/v6.34 lib 6/12N) IntroComp 2023 version - work in progress. Preface This IF is neither finished nor polished. The story is not going anywhere yet. (But if it feels like it is: Even better.) Many commands lack the right feedback. There are bugs. Still, the basic idea should become clear and whether it's worth pursuing further I leave to your judgment. The form of the game is a diary. Each round is one day long. This results in a few differences to other parser-based IF: You don't walk around as usual. Instead, the following form is used: GO TO or VISIT . Also, you don't pick up or drop objects, because that wouldn't fit the diary format either, so that happens automatically. Repetitions and anything that breaks the fourth wall should be masked or avoided to preserve the form. This is probably not entirely possible, but I want to push it as far as I can. I would like to take this opportunity to thank Daniel Stelzer and Drew Cook! With their advice on intfiction.org, they have given me the basis on which all the standard feedback is intercepted. You'll do me a big favor if you type "script" first and send me your transcript (along with any feedback and ideas you may have) to olaf.nowacki@gmail.com! Please press SPACE to continue. Identification number: //2A06F5FD-44AB-40F1-AA0C-0D5F7CB602EB// Interpreter version 1.3.5 / VM 3.1.2 / Library serial number 080126 Standard Rules version 3/120430 by Graham Nelson Absolute Standards by Olaf Nowacki June 26 ? My dear diary, I am so glad that I can write down my thoughts and everything I experience in you - it is like making a transcript of my life. For sure I will love to read in you later! >restart Are you sure you want to restart? y The Blossom An uncanny diary by Olaf Nowacki Release 0 / Serial number 230731 / Inform 7 build 6M62 (I6/v6.34 lib 6/12N) IntroComp 2023 version - work in progress. Preface This IF is neither finished nor polished. The story is not going anywhere yet. (But if it feels like it is: Even better.) Many commands lack the right feedback. There are bugs. Still, the basic idea should become clear and whether it's worth pursuing further I leave to your judgment. The form of the game is a diary. Each round is one day long. This results in a few differences to other parser-based IF: You don't walk around as usual. Instead, the following form is used: GO TO or VISIT . Also, you don't pick up or drop objects, because that wouldn't fit the diary format either, so that happens automatically. Repetitions and anything that breaks the fourth wall should be masked or avoided to preserve the form. This is probably not entirely possible, but I want to push it as far as I can. I would like to take this opportunity to thank Daniel Stelzer and Drew Cook! With their advice on intfiction.org, they have given me the basis on which all the standard feedback is intercepted. You'll do me a big favor if you type "script" first and send me your transcript (along with any feedback and ideas you may have) to olaf.nowacki@gmail.com! Please press SPACE to continue. June 25, 1883 ? I deliberately chose a very simple room for I want nothing to distract me from writing, and I found more than I was looking for in Mrs. Unbehagen's house. It is just a small square room with a small window overlooking the street. Now I'm sitting at a desk right under the window on the chair in front of it. Behind me is my bed against the bare wall and otherwise there is only the door. The rent is definitely too much for what I get, but included are three meals a day and I get a big jug of water, for drinking and for the most necessary hygienic measures. I don't need a closet, because I only have two sets of personal linen. One of them I wear, the other is with Mrs. Unbehagen in the laundry and as soon as she gives it back to me clean, I give her the other. As you can see, I've thought of everything. Apart from visiting the privy, which is located in the stairwell, I don't have to leave the room if I don't want to. >x me June 26 ? Today I let myself fell into the abyss of introspection. Who am I? Seriously, who am I? Am I a piece of thinking flesh? Am I a ghost who moves this meat machine like a puppeteer? Am I a captain who steers his ship of bones and cartilage across the lonely ocean of ideas? What drives me to go there? Where do I want to go in the first place? What will await me there? Do I even want to know? Isn't it better to know nothing, to want nothing? Shouldn't I rather be one of those deranged automobile racers who want nothing except the stupid pleasure of the short-lived thrill of speed? Am I even destined to produce something bigger, better than them? And have I thus reached the bottom of my self-knowledge? A ridiculous question with the shortest possible answer there is. When I sit at my desk, I constantly have the feeling that something is moving outside and when I look up there is no one there. >z June 27 ? On the surface, it looks like I'm doing nothing. But in reality, I am gathering energy by waiting. Like a dam that accumulates the water of a river. I wonder which is better: to start writing right away or to plan everything first? I should think about that tomorrow. >z June 28 ? Energy pent up again today. As soon as I am filled up, I will burst like a breached dam and my words will flood over the empty pages. I already like my life as a writer and I can easily get used to this pace of work. Mrs. Unbehagen told me about her other tenant. His name is Herr Oskar Sala. I haven't seen him yet, but he hasn't seen me either. >z June 29 ? Further accumulation. But somehow I don't particularly like the dam analogy. More appropriate is a volcano! As soon as I'm full, I'll erupt like a wild volcano and spew out my story! With letter lava, so to speak. Someone upstairs is playing the piano, or something like that. I probably shouldn't listen so closely so as not to distract myself from my work. >z June 30 ? I feel the energy rising in me. I should probably stick with the electricity analogy. When I am fully charged, my battery discharges and on the empty pages my novel comes to life, like Frankenstein's monster, only in good. Before I moved into this room, Valerie had indicated in advance that she would pay me a visit. I hope she won't keep me waiting too long. The uncertainty is almost unbearable and slows me down in my writing process. >z July 1 ? Hopefully my novel won't kill anyone. I don't want to be chased out of town with pitchforks either. I am continuing to absorb energy. Something is moving in the house across the street. I often see the curtains shaking. >z July 2 ? I improve on doing nothing by writing as little as possible in my diary from now on. Again these barking tykes. The landlady told me that there was a small park nearby where the residents let their dogs run free all day. >z July 3 ? Done nothing today. Felt good. I'm still not fully charged, but it's not far off. That's what my feeling tells me. >z July 4 ? Done nothing today. >z July 5 ? Done nothing today. Constantly yapping dogs in the neighborhood, it sounds like a whole pack. I can then hardly grasp a clear thought. >z July 6 ? Done nothing today. >z July 7 ? Done nothing today. >z July 8 ? Done nothing today. People think doing nothing is easy. The opposite is true if you want to do it right. Because there are little things lurking everywhere that you could do. >z July 9 ? Done nothing today. Today I saw someone in the house across the street peering over at me. The curtain was moved a bit to the side and I saw binoculars flashing. What is this? >z July 10 ? Done nothing today. >z July 11 ? Done nothing today. >z July 12 ? Done nothing today. >z July 13 ? Done nothing today. >z July 14 ? Done nothing today. >z July 15 ? Done nothing today. >z July 16 ? Done nothing today. >z July 17 ? Done nothing today. >z July 18 ? Done nothing today. >visit valeri July 19 ? Strange thoughts creep up on me sometimes. For example: visiting "valeri", would that make sense? Is it even possible? If so, would it also be desirable? Then I think about it a lot and always come to the same conclusion: I just don't know. I could try to find out if I didn't have a clear task ahead of me: writing my novel. >visit valerie July 20 ? My desire to see Valerie is very strong. If it were possible, I would pay her a visit at her family's home, but alas, alas, etiquette forbids it as long as we are not engaged. I should certainly try to use my longing for her to finish my novel. >visit dog July 21 ? Strange thoughts creep up on me sometimes. For example: visiting "dog", would that make sense? Is it even possible? If so, would it also be desirable? Then I think about it a lot and always come to the same conclusion: I just don't know. I could try to find out if I didn't have a clear task ahead of me: writing my novel. >z July 22 ? Done nothing today. >z July 23 ? Done nothing today. >z *** Evidence object no. 112 For unknown reasons, the young author died in the early morning hours of July 24. Perhaps this diary can shed light on the causes. *** Would you like to RESTART, RESTORE a saved game, QUIT or UNDO the last command? > restart The Blossom An uncanny diary by Olaf Nowacki Release 0 / Serial number 230731 / Inform 7 build 6M62 (I6/v6.34 lib 6/12N) IntroComp 2023 version - work in progress. Preface This IF is neither finished nor polished. The story is not going anywhere yet. (But if it feels like it is: Even better.) Many commands lack the right feedback. There are bugs. Still, the basic idea should become clear and whether it's worth pursuing further I leave to your judgment. The form of the game is a diary. Each round is one day long. This results in a few differences to other parser-based IF: You don't walk around as usual. Instead, the following form is used: GO TO or VISIT . Also, you don't pick up or drop objects, because that wouldn't fit the diary format either, so that happens automatically. Repetitions and anything that breaks the fourth wall should be masked or avoided to preserve the form. This is probably not entirely possible, but I want to push it as far as I can. I would like to take this opportunity to thank Daniel Stelzer and Drew Cook! With their advice on intfiction.org, they have given me the basis on which all the standard feedback is intercepted. You'll do me a big favor if you type "script" first and send me your transcript (along with any feedback and ideas you may have) to olaf.nowacki@gmail.com! Please press SPACE to continue. June 25, 1883 ? I deliberately chose a very simple room for I want nothing to distract me from writing, and I found more than I was looking for in Mrs. Unbehagen's house. It is just a small square room with a small window overlooking the street. Now I'm sitting at a desk right under the window on the chair in front of it. Behind me is my bed against the bare wall and otherwise there is only the door. The rent is definitely too much for what I get, but included are three meals a day and I get a big jug of water, for drinking and for the most necessary hygienic measures. I don't need a closet, because I only have two sets of personal linen. One of them I wear, the other is with Mrs. Unbehagen in the laundry and as soon as she gives it back to me clean, I give her the other. As you can see, I've thought of everything. Apart from visiting the privy, which is located in the stairwell, I don't have to leave the room if I don't want to. >n June 26 ? Indeed, at times my room feels quite confining, even claustrophobic. I should probably go out occasionally, stretch my legs and get some fresh air. That should also stimulate my thoughts and thus help me to write my novel. But certainly, I must have a specific destination in mind before I go out. Yes, I could simply walk the streets of the surrounding area. Yet wouldn't a visit to the park be more auspicious? If just a short stroll is required, I could seek out Mrs. Unbehagen, or Mr. Sala. The ordinary visit to the lavatory I don't want to count here. I wonder which is better: to start writing right away or to plan everything first? I should think about that tomorrow. >out June 27 ? Today I wanted to write something about going for a walk. Luckily I browsed through my previous entries again and saw that I had already written something about it yesterday. That would have been embarrassing if I had written the same thing again! Someone upstairs is playing the piano, or something like that. I probably shouldn't listen so closely so as not to distract myself from my work. >u June 28 ? Today I wanted to write something about going for a walk. Luckily I browsed through my previous entries again and saw that I had already written something about it 2 days ago. That would have been embarrassing if I had written the same thing again! Before I moved into this room, Valerie had indicated in advance that she would pay me a visit. I hope she won't keep me waiting too long. The uncertainty is almost unbearable and slows me down in my writing process. >listen June 29 ? This day I have spent lying on the bed, albeit not to think, but to listen. And I must say, it was most enlightening. Most of the time, you can hear Mrs. Unbehagen cursing in her living room when she's not out and about. Her other lodger, Mr. Sala, is usually at home and frequently plays the piano or something similar. Every now and then you hear someone farting in the privy, and I don't want to make any assumptions about which of the two it is. But beyond that, it seems as if the whole house is crackling discreetly. As if many very small things were moving very carefully in the wall. Now that I've heard it once I can't not hear it. Mrs. Unbehagen told me about her other tenant. His name is Herr Oskar Sala. I haven't seen him yet, but he hasn't seen me either. >cry June 30 ? Today an unusual mantra came to my mind: "CRY". I repeated it until it lost all meaning. "CRY ... CRY ... CRY" What is that supposed to be anyway? If it's really important, I'm sure it will come back to me. >visit herr July 1 ? Strange thoughts creep up on me sometimes. For example: visiting "herr", would that make sense? Is it even possible? If so, would it also be desirable? Then I think about it a lot and always come to the same conclusion: I just don't know. I could try to find out if I didn't have a clear task ahead of me: writing my novel. I already like my life as a writer and I can easily get used to this pace of work. >visit oskar sala July 2 ? Strange thoughts creep up on me sometimes. For example: visiting "oskar sala", would that make sense? Is it even possible? If so, would it also be desirable? Then I think about it a lot and always come to the same conclusion: I just don't know. I could try to find out if I didn't have a clear task ahead of me: writing my novel. >l July 3 ? I spent the entire day exploring my room in Mrs. Unbehagens house. It is very small and sparsely furnished. There is a small window facing the street. Below it is a desk and in front of it is a chair. On the wall opposite is a bed against the bare wall. There is no other furniture, only the door that leads to the staircase. I am sitting at my desk, in front of me my diary (in which I'm currently writing), an inkwell in which I regularly refill my quill and a stack of blank paper on which I will set down my novel. Also there is the carafe with water. I should say everything is well prepared so I can start writing my novel. >drink water July 4 ? As usual, I drank water from the carafe today, but this time very consciously. I find it has a very metallic taste and I wonder if its quality has changed, or if I haven't noticed it before. I will drink more consciously in the future and pay attention to the taste of it. It is said that metallic water is very healthy, so this is a good thing and I hope it stays this way. I feel a bit buoyant today, like I've had a bit of schnapps. >g July 5 ? The water still tastes very metallic, possibly even more so than before. That is very good. However, I should not clutter up my fine diary with information like this. Constantly yapping dogs in the neighborhood, it sounds like a whole pack. I can then hardly grasp a clear thought. >g July 6 ? Today I wanted to write something about drinking the carafe of water. Luckily I browsed through my previous entries again and saw that I had already written something about it yesterday. That would have been embarrassing if I had written the same thing again! When I sit at my desk, I constantly have the feeling that something is moving outside and when I look up there is no one there. >g July 7 ? Today I wanted to write something about drinking the carafe of water. Luckily I browsed through my previous entries again and saw that I had already written something about it 2 days ago. That would have been embarrassing if I had written the same thing again! Again these barking tykes. The landlady told me that there was a small park nearby where the residents let their dogs run free all day. >g July 8 ? Today I wanted to write something about drinking the carafe of water. Luckily I browsed through my previous entries again and saw that I had already written something about it 3 days ago. That would have been embarrassing if I had written the same thing again! >g July 9 ? Today I wanted to write something about drinking the carafe of water. Luckily I browsed through my previous entries again and saw that I had already written something about it 4 days ago. That would have been embarrassing if I had written the same thing again! >g July 10 ? Today I wanted to write something about drinking the carafe of water. Luckily I browsed through my previous entries again and saw that I had already written something about it 5 days ago. That would have been embarrassing if I had written the same thing again! >g July 11 ? Today I wanted to write something about drinking the carafe of water. Luckily I browsed through my previous entries again and saw that I had already written something about it 6 days ago. That would have been embarrassing if I had written the same thing again! Something is moving in the house across the street. I often see the curtains shaking. >g July 12 ? Today I wanted to write something about drinking the carafe of water. Luckily I browsed through my previous entries again and saw that I had already written something about it 7 days ago. That would have been embarrassing if I had written the same thing again! Today I saw someone in the house across the street peering over at me. The curtain was moved a bit to the side and I saw binoculars flashing. What is this? >g July 13 ? Today I wanted to write something about drinking the carafe of water. Luckily I browsed through my previous entries again and saw that I had already written something about it 8 days ago. That would have been embarrassing if I had written the same thing again! >g July 14 ? Today I wanted to write something about drinking the carafe of water. Luckily I browsed through my previous entries again and saw that I had already written something about it 9 days ago. That would have been embarrassing if I had written the same thing again! >g July 15 ? Today I wanted to write something about drinking the carafe of water. Luckily I browsed through my previous entries again and saw that I had already written something about it 10 days ago. That would have been embarrassing if I had written the same thing again! >g July 16 ? Today I wanted to write something about drinking the carafe of water. Luckily I browsed through my previous entries again and saw that I had already written something about it 11 days ago. That would have been embarrassing if I had written the same thing again! >g July 17 ? Today I wanted to write something about drinking the carafe of water. Luckily I browsed through my previous entries again and saw that I had already written something about it 12 days ago. That would have been embarrassing if I had written the same thing again! >g July 18 ? Today I wanted to write something about drinking the carafe of water. Luckily I browsed through my previous entries again and saw that I had already written something about it 13 days ago. That would have been embarrassing if I had written the same thing again! >g July 19 ? Today I wanted to write something about drinking the carafe of water. Luckily I browsed through my previous entries again and saw that I had already written something about it 14 days ago. That would have been embarrassing if I had written the same thing again! >g July 20 ? Today I wanted to write something about drinking the carafe of water. Luckily I browsed through my previous entries again and saw that I had already written something about it 15 days ago. That would have been embarrassing if I had written the same thing again! >g July 21 ? Today I wanted to write something about drinking the carafe of water. Luckily I browsed through my previous entries again and saw that I had already written something about it 16 days ago. That would have been embarrassing if I had written the same thing again! >g July 22 ? Today I wanted to write something about drinking the carafe of water. Luckily I browsed through my previous entries again and saw that I had already written something about it 17 days ago. That would have been embarrassing if I had written the same thing again! >g July 23 ? Today I wanted to write something about drinking the carafe of water. Luckily I browsed through my previous entries again and saw that I had already written something about it 18 days ago. That would have been embarrassing if I had written the same thing again! >g July 24 ? Today I wanted to write something about drinking the carafe of water. Luckily I browsed through my previous entries again and saw that I had already written something about it 19 days ago. That would have been embarrassing if I had written the same thing again! >g July 25 ? Today I wanted to write something about drinking the carafe of water. Luckily I browsed through my previous entries again and saw that I had already written something about it 20 days ago. That would have been embarrassing if I had written the same thing again! >g July 26 ? Today I wanted to write something about drinking the carafe of water. Luckily I browsed through my previous entries again and saw that I had already written something about it 21 days ago. That would have been embarrassing if I had written the same thing again! >z July 27 ? On the surface, it looks like I'm doing nothing. But in reality, I am gathering energy by waiting. Like a dam that accumulates the water of a river. >z July 28 ? Energy pent up again today. As soon as I am filled up, I will burst like a breached dam and my words will flood over the empty pages. I am continuing to absorb energy. >z July 29 ? Further accumulation. But somehow I don't particularly like the dam analogy. More appropriate is a volcano! As soon as I'm full, I'll erupt like a wild volcano and spew out my story! With letter lava, so to speak. >z July 30 ? I feel the energy rising in me. I should probably stick with the electricity analogy. When I am fully charged, my battery discharges and on the empty pages my novel comes to life, like Frankenstein's monster, only in good. I'm still not fully charged, but it's not far off. That's what my feeling tells me. >z July 31 ? Hopefully my novel won't kill anyone. I don't want to be chased out of town with pitchforks either. >z August 1 ? I improve on doing nothing by writing as little as possible in my diary from now on. >write August 2 ? Today I was finally ready to start writing. I had thought of an excellent opening sentence and was just about to dip the quill into the inkwell when there was a knock at the door. It couldn't be Mrs. Unbehagen, because at this time she always does her purchases. Besides, she never knocks before entering the room. After a moment's hesitation, I rose to open the door. In the narrow hallway stood Valerie with a potted plant in her hands. I was so overwhelmed that I couldn't express my joy adequately. She set the plant down on my desk and let her eyes roam over my sparse room. Finally, she looked me in the eye and said, "I bought this at the harbour from a sailor overseas. He said it was an extraordinary plant from the other side of the globe. I don't know if he was telling the truth, but I've never seen such a plant. Hopefully it will inspire your writing." I would rather have had a photo of her for inspiration, but of course I didn't say that. I grabbed her hand and wanted to caress it, but she shyly withdrew, saying she had to leave before the landlady came back. I asked her if she was coming to see me again, but she avoided my gaze and just murmured, "Maybe." Then she was gone again, leaving me alone with the plant. A little later, Mrs. Unbehagen entered my room and asked if I had received any lady visitors. That was strictly forbidden. I lied and claimed that my cousin had brought me my beloved potted plant, which I needed for writing. She replied that she hoped I did not intend to smoke the plant. That too, she said, was strictly forbidden. I tried to appease her by saying that I would never smoke plants, only tobacco. She then parted with a sceptical look and narrowed eyes. I sat down at my desk again and reached for the quill. My brilliant opening sentence I had forgotten by then. >write August 3 ? I sat at my desk for a long time today thinking about what my brilliant opening sentence has been. I thought of a few others, but none were nearly as good as the original one, which unfortunately didn't come back. Sometimes I thought it was within reach. A feeling, an idea, a memory of it that brings it back in its entirety. But it was always like trying to catch mist with a butterfly net. Suddenly I have doubts about whether I am at all suited to writing. >z August 4 ? Done nothing today. Felt good. The plant I got from Valerie looks dead. >z August 5 ? Done nothing today. >l August 6 ? Today I wanted to write something about looking. Luckily I browsed through my previous entries again and saw that I had already written something about it 34 days ago. That would have been embarrassing if I had written the same thing again! >cry August 7 ? Today an unusual mantra came to my mind: "CRY". I repeated it until it lost all meaning. "CRY ... CRY ... CRY" What is that supposed to be anyway? If it's really important, I'm sure it will come back to me. >die August 8 ? Today an unusual mantra came to my mind: "DIE". I repeated it until it lost all meaning. "DIE ... DIE ... DIE" What is that supposed to be anyway? If it's really important, I'm sure it will come back to me. Sometimes my thoughts go in strange directions. >l August 9 ? Today I wanted to write something about looking. Luckily I browsed through my previous entries again and saw that I had already written something about it 35 days ago. That would have been embarrassing if I had written the same thing again! The plant I got from Valerie continues to look dead. >z August 10 ? Done nothing today. People think doing nothing is easy. The opposite is true if you want to do it right. Because there are little things lurking everywhere that you could do. >z August 11 ? Done nothing today. >z August 12 ? Done nothing today. >z August 13 ? Done nothing today. >z August 14 ? Done nothing today. >sdf August 15 ? Today an unusual mantra came to my mind: "SDF". I repeated it until it lost all meaning. "SDF ... SDF ... SDF" What is that supposed to be anyway? If it's really important, I'm sure it will come back to me. I would say that strange thoughts are probably normal and good for a novelist. >quit Are you sure you want to quit? y