Start of a transcript of

A Rope of Chalk
edited by Ryan Veeder
Release 1 / Serial number 200926 / Inform 7 build 6M62 (I6/v6.34 lib 6/12N) 
Identification number: //54330ED7-3C9B-47DA-803E-F6EF7B41EF3D//
Interpreter version 1.3.5 / VM 3.1.2 / Library serial number 080126
Standard Rules version 3/120430 by Graham Nelson

And also a modified version of Simple Chat version 4 by Mike Tilford.

>* I think it's actually Mark Tilford
That's not a verb I recognize.

>* We were at Caltech together, oddly, though didn't really know each other
You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom.

>* And I didn't get into IF until a bit after graduation
That's not a verb I recognize.

>* it's just, since this is in college (I played a bit before typing transcript)...
You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom.

>* that came to mind
That's not a verb I recognize.

>* Anyway!
That's not a verb I recognize.

>l
Judges' Table
The softball field's aluminum bleachers offer a meager amount of shade, so this is where Hina decided the judges should sit while the artists work. Hina and Alec are sitting at opposite ends of the table; your spot is in the middle. The sidewalk, the "canvas" of the sidewalk chalk tournament, runs west and east.

Nathalie stands off to the side.

>talk to nathalie
Nathalie perks up when you turn her way.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "Could I get another bottle of water?" 
[3] "Thanks." 

>1
"How's it going?"

Nathalie shrugs. "Oh, I'm fine." She really is. It's like the heat isn't getting to her at all.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "How are you so chipper?" 
[3] "Could I get another bottle of water?" 
[4] "Thanks." 

>2
"How are you so..." You lick your lips. "Chipper" isn't really the word you want to use.

Nathalie catches your meaning. "Two things: A positive attitude, and staying hydrated. And a willingness to fully embrace my situation. But that's part of the first one."

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "How are you so chipper?" 
[3] "Could I get another bottle of water?" 
[4] "Thanks." 

>3
"Could I get another bottle of water?" you ask, trying not to sound desperate.

"Of course you could, young lady." Nathalie relieves you of your empty bottle and gets a full one out of the cooler. "There you go. As cold as it gets, for all that's worth."

It feels plenty cold to you, and you thank her sincerely.

"No need to thank me. Just doing my duty as hydration officer."

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "How are you so chipper?" 
[3] "How'd you get to be the hydration officer, anyway?" 
[4] "Thanks." 

>3
"How'd you get to be the hydration officer, anyway?"

"Well, at last year's event I was in Hina's position, and it turned out to be really stressful. So I asked her if I could do something a little more low-key this time around."

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "How are you so chipper?" 
[3] "How'd you get to be the hydration officer, anyway?" 
[4] "Thanks." 

>4
"Thanks, Nathalie."

"Hey, no problem."

>x alec
You can't take Alec seriously, because he doesn't take anything seriously. All you've seen him do around the Honors center is goof off and flirt with underclassman girls. You have no idea how he's still in the Honors program as of his senior year.

And why is he here? Maybe the program director told him he had to to help out with some bare minimum of events, and he decided to get one out of the way right at the start of the semester.

>talk to alec
You make a meek sound of greeting, which Alec takes a moment to recognize. "Hmm?" he says.

[1] "Do you think you could check on Xavier and Jessica instead of me?" 
[2] "How are you holding up?" 
[3] "How did you come to be a judge in this event?" 
[4] "See you later." 

>2
"How are you holding up?"

"I'm as thirsty as a church, but I'll be okay."

[1] "Do you think you could check on Xavier and Jessica instead of me?" 
[2] "How are you holding up?" 
[3] "How did you come to be a judge in this event?" 
[4] "See you later." 

>3
Your head swims, and the question comes out "Why are you being a judge?" which is not the tone you were going for.

Alec doesn't seem to mind. He glances at Hina. "Well, I have a passion for the arts," he says. "And I'm especially passionate about judging people. People's art, I mean."

[1] "Do you think you could check on Xavier and Jessica instead of me?" 
[2] "How are you holding up?" 
[3] "How did you come to be a judge in this event?" 
[4] "See you later." 

>* "thirsty as a church" is strange and funny
(You'll have to pick a number from 1 to 4.)

>4
"See you later."

"Yeah. Good luck."

>l
Judges' Table
The softball field's aluminum bleachers offer a meager amount of shade, so this is where Hina decided the judges should sit while the artists work. Hina and Alec are sitting at opposite ends of the table; your spot is in the middle. The sidewalk, the "canvas" of the sidewalk chalk tournament, runs west and east.

Nathalie stands off to the side.

>puzzles
That's not a verb I recognize.

>* Oops I'm playing Sage Sanctum Scramble in the other window
That's not a verb I recognize.

>l
Judges' Table
The softball field's aluminum bleachers offer a meager amount of shade, so this is where Hina decided the judges should sit while the artists work. Hina and Alec are sitting at opposite ends of the table; your spot is in the middle. The sidewalk, the "canvas" of the sidewalk chalk tournament, runs west and east.

Nathalie stands off to the side.

>x hina
Hina is a senior?pre-med?and she basically runs the Honors program single-handedly. She organized this whole sidewalk chalk tournament herself, and she's already filled the calendar for the fall semester with similar activities. You just pray the other events will be indoors.

Her forehead is always furrowed a little bit; she's always working on something. Right now, though, it's like her whole head is furrowed. You can't blame her.

>talk to hina
You ask Hina what you should do. She inhales deeply (impatiently) before she answers.

"Just, talk to Jessica and find out what her problem is. Look at what Xavier drew and see if it's... See if we need to do something about it. I trust you." She doesn't seem all that confident, though.

>x alec
You can't take Alec seriously, because he doesn't take anything seriously. All you've seen him do around the Honors center is goof off and flirt with underclassman girls. You have no idea how he's still in the Honors program as of his senior year.

And why is he here? Maybe the program director told him he had to to help out with some bare minimum of events, and he decided to get one out of the way right at the start of the semester.

>talk to alec
Against your better judgment, you get Alec's attention again.

[1] "Do you think you could check on Xavier and Jessica instead of me?" 
[2] "How are you holding up?" 
[3] "How did you come to be a judge in this event?" 
[4] "See you later." 

>2
"How are you holding up?"

"I'm as thirsty as a church, but I'll be okay."

[1] "Do you think you could check on Xavier and Jessica instead of me?" 
[2] "How are you holding up?" 
[3] "How did you come to be a judge in this event?" 
[4] "See you later." 

>3
Your head swims, and the question comes out "Why are you being a judge?" which is not the tone you were going for.

Alec doesn't seem to mind. He glances at Hina. "Well, I have a passion for the arts," he says. "And I'm especially passionate about judging people. People's art, I mean."

[1] "Do you think you could check on Xavier and Jessica instead of me?" 
[2] "How are you holding up?" 
[3] "How did you come to be a judge in this event?" 
[4] "See you later." 

>4
"See you later."

"Yeah. Good luck."

You're already thirsty again.

>l
Judges' Table
The softball field's aluminum bleachers offer a meager amount of shade, so this is where Hina decided the judges should sit while the artists work. Hina and Alec are sitting at opposite ends of the table; your spot is in the middle. The sidewalk, the "canvas" of the sidewalk chalk tournament, runs west and east.

Nathalie stands off to the side.

>drink water
(the water bottle)
You take a meek little sip from your water bottle.

>g
(the water bottle)
You raise the bottle to your lips and, forgetting yourself for a moment, you chug down an unladylike gulp.

But it's so satisfying.

>chug water
That's not a verb I recognize.

>* aww
That's not a verb I recognize.

>drink water
(the water bottle)
You take a meek little sip from your water bottle.

>g
(the water bottle)
You raise the bottle to your lips and, forgetting yourself for a moment, you chug down an unladylike gulp.

But it's so satisfying.

>g
(the water bottle)
You take a meek little sip from your water bottle.

>l
Judges' Table
The softball field's aluminum bleachers offer a meager amount of shade, so this is where Hina decided the judges should sit while the artists work. Hina and Alec are sitting at opposite ends of the table; your spot is in the middle. The sidewalk, the "canvas" of the sidewalk chalk tournament, runs west and east.

Nathalie stands off to the side.

>x table
A "lightweight" folding table. It didn't seem so lightweight when you helped Hina load it up back at the Honors center; it seemed impossibly heavy when you helped Hina set it up here, in the blazing heat.

And after the event, you'll have to do it all over again...

>x sidewalk
The sidewalk around the softball field is nice and wide, perfect for chalk art.

>e

Shed
The sidewalk stops well before it reaches the equipment shed, leaving a long stretch of sand in between. Beyond the shed is the intersection of First Avenue and Second Street: An impassable wasteland.

An empty bucket sits near the shed.

Nathalie comes up alongside, dragging her water cooler behind her.

>x sand
Fine yellow sand, apparently dumped here just to fill in the space between the shed and the sidewalk.

>x bucket
It looks a bit like someone forgot to put this bucket back in the shed, and by the time they remembered they couldn't be bothered to unlock the door.

>take it
This bucket might belong to Hina, or the Honors department, or the softball field. It's not yours, that's for sure.

>* what kind of text adventure is this if I can't take a bucket
That's not a verb I recognize.

>open shed
You pull on the door. It's locked.

>unlock shed
(with the water bottle)
That doesn't seem to be something you can unlock.

>* hmm, seems a little iffy
You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom.

>l
Shed
The sidewalk stops well before it reaches the equipment shed, leaving a long stretch of sand in between. Beyond the shed is the intersection of First Avenue and Second Street: An impassable wasteland.

Nathalie stands off to the side.

An empty bucket sits near the shed.

>n
Wading out into First Avenue would be muddy and unpleasant, and you have a job you're supposed to be doing. The sidewalk goes west.

>s
There's a tall fence around the softball field, and no way in. The sidewalk goes west.

>se
The construction workers in charge of resurfacing Second Street aren't around today, but clearly they don't want people entering their workspace. The sidewalk goes west.

You're already thirsty again.

>sw
There's a tall fence around the softball field, and no way in. The sidewalk goes west.

>nw
Wading out into First Avenue would be muddy and unpleasant, and you have a job you're supposed to be doing. The sidewalk goes west.

>ne
You're not about to go hiking through a construction site. The sidewalk goes west.

>ee
That's not a verb I recognize.

>e
The construction workers in charge of resurfacing Second Street aren't around today, but clearly they don't want people entering their workspace. The sidewalk goes west.

>* nice attention to detail with all the different exits!
That's not a verb I recognize.

>w

Judges' Table
The softball field's aluminum bleachers offer a meager amount of shade, so this is where Hina decided the judges should sit while the artists work. Hina and Alec are sitting at opposite ends of the table; your spot is in the middle. The sidewalk, the "canvas" of the sidewalk chalk tournament, runs west and east.

Nathalie comes up alongside, dragging her water cooler behind her.

>w

Victoria's Space
The sidewalk bends south and east here, at the edge of the parking lot.

Victoria is hunched over her square of sidewalk, filling in the details of a huge, twisting python. A plastic container is nestled in the grass nearby.

Nathalie follows along.

>x python
Victoria's serpent crisscrosses her entire square of pavement, coiling over and under itself like a Celtic knot. Its fanged jaws fill up the center of the composition; the tip of its tail is nowhere in sight.

Having completed the snake's undulating outline, Victoria is now coloring another tangled web: The reticulations of its scales.

Nathalie offers her a bottle of water, which she gratefully accepts. The two of them take a seat on the grass. "Looks like a lot of work," Nathalie says. Victoria shakes her head wearily.

"I could have picked something easier," she says. "Or I could have just, stayed home. But Hina really wanted me to come."

"I know what that's like," Nathalie says, and she gives you a meaningful look.

A lull ensues.

Presently Nathalie stands up again.

>x victoria
Victoria is one of the freshmen you met when you were helping out at orientation. Right away you got the sense that she was trying hard to be different just for the sake of being different. You should have expected she'd come up with a chalk drawing calculated to freak everybody out.

>talk to her
Who do you mean, Nathalie or Victoria?

>victoria
Victoria looks up at you. "Yes?"

[1] "How are you doing?" 
[2] "What inspired you to choose this subject?" 
[3] "Do you need anything?" 
[4] "Good luck." 

>1
"How are you doing?"

"Hot."

"Yeah." Well, at least everyone's being honest.

[1] "How are you doing?" 
[2] "What inspired you to choose this subject?" 
[3] "Do you need anything?" 
[4] "Good luck." 

>2
"What inspired you to choose this subject?" Yeah, that sounds like something a judge would say.

Victoria is so glad you asked. "It's based on my pet python back home." You nod impassively; you're neither impressed nor surprised. "He's a big sweetheart, really."

"He looks kind of scary here."

"Well," Victoria says, and you know she's thinking: I just want to scare people.

[1] "How are you doing?" 
[2] "What inspired you to choose this subject?" 
[3] "Do you need anything?" 
[4] "Good luck." 

>3
Without really thinking, you ask Victoria, "Do you need anything?"

Victoria leans back on her hands, looks up into the cloudless sky. "Could you bring me a bowl of ice cream? Just vanilla is fine."

"I don't think we have... Oh." Your head hurts. "That was a joke."

"Yeah," says Victoria.

[1] "How are you doing?" 
[2] "What inspired you to choose this subject?" 
[3] "Do you need anything?" 
[4] "Good luck." 

>4
"Good luck." Actually, that doesn't make a lot of sense coming from a judge...

"Thanks," says Victoria.

>x sky
The sky is too clear. A few puffy white clouds are always welcome, especially if they provide some intermittent shade. Right now the sun has nobody keeping it in check.

>x clouds
The sky is too clear. A few puffy white clouds are always welcome, especially if they provide some intermittent shade. Right now the sun has nobody keeping it in check.

>l
Victoria's Space
The sidewalk bends south and east here, at the edge of the parking lot.

Nathalie stands off to the side.

Victoria is hunched over her square of sidewalk, filling in the details of a huge, twisting python. A plastic container is nestled in the grass nearby.

>x container
It looks like something you'd store leftovers in.

Victoria notices you looking at it, and she takes a break from her snake to explain: "Hina said there wouldn't be any prizes for this tournament, and I thought that was a little sad. So I sewed these."

She pulls the lid off the container, revealing a collection of colorful ribbons. An involuntary "aww!" passes your lips.

"Don't worry, the judges get ribbons, too. I just thought it'd be fun. But, that's for later."

She closes the container and returns to her drawing.

>* that's nice!
That's not a verb I recognize.

>l
Victoria's Space
The sidewalk bends south and east here, at the edge of the parking lot.

Nathalie stands off to the side.

Victoria is hunched over her square of sidewalk, filling in the details of a huge, twisting python. A plastic container is nestled in the grass nearby.

>n
Wading out into First Avenue would be muddy and unpleasant, and you have a job you're supposed to be doing. The sidewalk goes east and south.

>nw
Wading out into First Avenue would be muddy and unpleasant, and you have a job you're supposed to be doing. The sidewalk goes east and south.

>ne
Wading out into First Avenue would be muddy and unpleasant, and you have a job you're supposed to be doing. The sidewalk goes east and south.

>w
In your estimation, getting to the top of this hill would qualify as a hike, and you're not dressed for a hike. The sidewalk goes east and south.

>s

Rachel's Space
The sidewalk continues north and south between the softball field and a steep hill. Rachel has been assigned a square of cement near a steel bike rack.

At the moment, Rachel is stretched out on the grass, soaking up the sun, eyes hidden behind huge sunglasses. Her phone lies in the grass next to her. Her chalk drawing, a simple slogan, is already finished.

Nathalie is right behind you.

>undo
Victoria's Space
[Previous turn undone.]

>sw
In your estimation, getting to the top of this hill would qualify as a hike, and you're not dressed for a hike. The sidewalk goes east and south.

>se
There's a tall fence around the softball field, and no way in. The sidewalk goes east and south.

>s

Rachel's Space
The sidewalk continues north and south between the softball field and a steep hill. Rachel has been assigned a square of cement near a steel bike rack.

At the moment, Rachel is stretched out on the grass, soaking up the sun, eyes hidden behind huge sunglasses. Her phone lies in the grass next to her. Her chalk drawing, a simple slogan, is already finished.

Nathalie is right behind you.

>x hill
The hill on the west side of the softball field is pretty steep, and overgrown with bushes and wild grass.

>x field
You can't see the field very well through the fence, but you get the impression that the bases, the grass, and everything else is in pristine condition.

>x rack
The bike rack is a frame of thick metal bars. There are no bikes hitched here at the moment.

>x rachel
Rachel is wearing short shorts and a tiny top. It doesn't strike you as a totally appropriate outfit, but maybe she knew it was going to be so unbearably hot.

>x glasses
The bulbous lenses reflect the sun into your eyes no matter what angle you stand at.

>x phone
You can't help but notice a notification as it pops up: Someone just texted her, saying "haha sux 2bu." Hard to argue with.

>give phone to rachel
(first taking Rachel's phone)
That's Rachel's phone.

>x slogan
You glance from the "art" to Rachel and back. You bite your lip. The sidewalk chalk tournament isn't really the right setting for a statement like this. But Rachel gave Hina plenty of notice as to what she was planning to do, and Hina told her it'd be okay.

Nathalie makes a pointed sort of huffing noise. Rachel doesn't seem to notice.

>talk to rachel
You look Rachel over, wondering if she's even awake.

[1] "Are you doing okay?" 
[2] "Why did you pick this for your drawing?" 
[3] Forget about it. 

>1
You hesitate.

Nathalie loses her patience. "Hey, there's plenty of time left. Maybe you should add an artist's statement, so we know what you're really trying to say."

Rachel's lips part: "Buzz off."

[1] "Are you doing okay?" 
[2] "Why did you pick this for your drawing?" 
[3] Forget about it. 

>2
You don't have the energy to engage, but Nathalie is on it: "Hey, Rachel?"

"Go away."

"You want some water?"

"Yes," Rachel says, raising an open hand. Nathalie places a full bottle in her fingers, and she sits upright enough to drink it without spilling all over her face.

[1] "Are you doing okay?" 
[2] "Why did you pick this for your drawing?" 
[3] Forget about it. 

>3
You step away.

>give water to rachel
(the water bottle to Rachel)
Giving people water is Nathalie's job. And you really need this bottle for yourself.

>s

Jonathan's Space
The sidewalk turns from north to east at the border of a small wooded area.

Jonathan is sitting on a wooden balance beam, contemplating his drawing. His sidewalk square has been divided into a grid of hexagons, overlaid on a bird's-eye view of a snow-covered island.

Nathalie follows along.

>x wood
A wall of trees stands not far beyond the sidewalk. It's unnerving to see such dense woods in the middle of the city. You know the university campus isn't far from the other side, but it seems like if you wandered in, you wouldn't wander out for some time.

>x jonathan
Jonathan is a sophomore, like you. Unless you consider yourself a junior. But you don't.

He's been one of the more approachable guys who hangs around the Honors center. You managed to get into the same section of Native Peoples of North America that he's in this semester; hopefully he didn't think you were weird for asking.

>x beam
Someone erected a balance beam just off to the side of the sidewalk, even though a bench would be a lot more convenient. Jonathan's notebook is resting on the beam next to him.

>x hexagons
Each hexagon of the island map has a little feature drawn on it: A fortress or a mountain or a cottage. But the medium of sidewalk chalk isn't precise enough to render all the detail Jonathan is trying to include.

"It's the setting of my novel," he explains. "The kingdom of Cealdhame."

"Oh my gosh, your novel? Please, tell us all about it," Nathalie says, pressing a fresh water bottle into his hand.

"Well, the main premise is..." He rubs the cold bottle against his head. "Wait. Are you messing with me?"

"I promise you that I am."

"Gotcha." He takes a long drink.

>x notebook
You can't get a good look at the notebook while Jonathan's sitting next to it, but you can see a sketch of his island, with its hexagonal grid, and a bunch of little labels.

>* fun
That's not a verb I recognize.

>take notebook
That's Jonathan's.

>read notebook
You can't get a good look at the notebook while Jonathan's sitting next to it, but you can see a sketch of his island, with its hexagonal grid, and a bunch of little labels.

>read labels
You can't see that anywhere nearby.

>play settlers of catan
That's not a verb I recognize.

>talk to jon
"Hey, Jonathan."

"Oh, hey!" He sits up and smiles.

[1] "How're you?" 
[2] "That's a lot of white chalk." 
[3] "Do you have plans for after this?" 
[4] "See you later." 

>1
"How're you?"

"Doing great. I've got a comfy little bench here," he says, indicating the narrow balance beam. "I'll probably stretch out on top of it and take a nap later."

You giggle, but Nathalie does not.

[1] "How're you?" 
[2] "That's a lot of white chalk." 
[3] "Do you have plans for after this?" 
[4] "See you later." 

>2
You look over the intricate map, and for some reason the thing you say out loud is: "That's a lot of white chalk."

"Don't worry. I brought my own. Well, not 'my own,' exactly."

Nathalie perks up. "Where'd you steal the chalk from?"

"There was a box of it just sitting on the floor in Van Allen Hall. They don't need it; all the classrooms have dry erase boards."

You're not sure what to do with this information. Nathalie nods approvingly.

[1] "How're you?" 
[2] "That's a lot of white chalk." 
[3] "Do you have plans for after this?" 
[4] "See you later." 

>3
You have to think of a way to say this that doesn't sound like you're asking him out on a date.

While you're doing that, Jonathan says: "Hey Lane, are you gonna go to yoga this semester?"

"Probably. If they still do it."

Nathalie cuts in: "You do yoga, Jon?"

"Yeah, someone in the dorms was teaching it."

"You get a spot at the back of the class? So you can check out all the girls' butts?"

Jonathan is speechless; Nathalie takes this as a yes, and nods at you sagaciously. "Classic technique," she explains.

[1] "How're you?" 
[2] "That's a lot of white chalk." 
[3] "Do you have plans for after this?" 
[4] "See you later." 

>3
There's no way you can gracefully say anything like that now.

[1] "How're you?" 
[2] "That's a lot of white chalk." 
[3] "Do you have plans for after this?" 
[4] "See you later." 

>1
"How're you?"

"Doing great. I've got a comfy little bench here," he says, indicating the narrow balance beam. "I'll probably stretch out on top of it and take a nap later."

You giggle, but Nathalie does not.

[1] "How're you?" 
[2] "That's a lot of white chalk." 
[3] "Do you have plans for after this?" 
[4] "See you later." 

>2
You look over the intricate map, and for some reason the thing you say out loud is: "That's a lot of white chalk."

"Don't worry. I brought my own. Well, not 'my own,' exactly."

Nathalie perks up. "Where'd you steal the chalk from?"

"There was a box of it just sitting on the floor in Van Allen Hall. They don't need it; all the classrooms have dry erase boards."

You're not sure what to do with this information. Nathalie nods approvingly.

[1] "How're you?" 
[2] "That's a lot of white chalk." 
[3] "Do you have plans for after this?" 
[4] "See you later." 

>4
"See you later."

"Uh-huh." Jonathan is very much focused on his chalk.

>l
Jonathan's Space
The sidewalk turns from north to east at the border of a small wooded area.

Nathalie stands off to the side.

Jonathan is sitting on a wooden balance beam, contemplating his drawing. His sidewalk square has been divided into a grid of hexagons, overlaid on a bird's-eye view of a snow-covered island.

>x hexes
Each hexagon of the island map has a little feature drawn on it: A fortress or a mountain or a cottage. But the medium of sidewalk chalk isn't precise enough to render all the detail Jonathan is trying to include.

>x island
Each hexagon of the island map has a little feature drawn on it: A fortress or a mountain or a cottage. But the medium of sidewalk chalk isn't precise enough to render all the detail Jonathan is trying to include.

>l
Jonathan's Space
The sidewalk turns from north to east at the border of a small wooded area.

Nathalie stands off to the side.

Jonathan is sitting on a wooden balance beam, contemplating his drawing. His sidewalk square has been divided into a grid of hexagons, overlaid on a bird's-eye view of a snow-covered island.

>stand on beam
It would be a little forward of you to get on the beam while Jonathan is sitting there.

>s
The woods look shady, yes, but you imagine they are also full of ticks and mosquitos. The sidewalk goes east and north.

>e

Faye's Space
There's a run-down old drinking fountain along this east-west stretch of sidewalk, between the trees and the softball field.

Faye's chalk art is a complicated piece with maybe a dozen characters. And somehow, she's already almost finished.

Nathalie follows you.

>x fountain
A metal knob protrudes from one side of the unlikely-looking drinking fountain.

>push knob
You turn the knob, but no water comes out. Not even a dribble.

>* alas
That's not a verb I recognize.

>x field
You can't see the field very well through the fence, but you get the impression that the bases, the grass, and everything else is in pristine condition.

>x trees
A wall of trees stands not far beyond the sidewalk. It's unnerving to see such dense woods in the middle of the city. You know the university campus isn't far from the other side, but it seems like if you wandered in, you wouldn't wander out for some time.

>x art
In the foreground of the chalk drawing is Jack Skellington, with a big grin on his skull; behind him are the ragdoll lady and the mad scientist and a bunch of other characters from The Nightmare Before Christmas, all sketchy but recognizable. In the background is the curling tentacle-mountain, silhouetted by a giant yellow moon.

"Um," you say.

Faye looks up at you. "Yes?"

"I'm just wondering... if there's..." Gosh, it's hard to talk. "If there are any legal problems with using copyrighted characters."

Faye looks over at Nathalie. Nathalie's eyes go wide; she staggers back in shock.

"I just remembered," she gasps.

Cold dread flows over you. "What is it?"

"I'm so sorry. It completely slipped my mind... I forgot to invite Tim Burton's lawyers to the sidewalk chalk tournament."

Faye busts up laughing, and you feel your cheeks getting red.

>* jerk
That's not a verb I recognize.

>x faye
Faye is a sophomore. You haven't gotten to know her very well, but her choice of subject isn't a surprise. You could probably find another Jack Skellington among her tattoos, if you looked hard enough.

>x art
In the foreground of the chalk drawing is Jack Skellington, with a big grin on his skull; behind him are the ragdoll lady and the mad scientist and a bunch of other characters from The Nightmare Before Christmas, all sketchy but recognizable. In the background is the curling tentacle-mountain, silhouetted by a giant yellow moon.

>x atatoos
You can't see that anywhere nearby.

>x tattoos
You try not to stare at Faye's tattoos, and notice one of them in spite of yourself: A black cat, staring back at you.

>g
You glance at another tattoo: A frog with a bionic eye.

>g
There are four triangles tattooed on the knuckles of Faye's left hand: One pointing down, one pointing down with a line across it, one pointing up with a line across it, and one pointing up with no line.

>g
Faye has an ankh tattooed on her chest, too. But you don't see Jack Skellington anywhere.

>g
Faye catches your eye with a tiny smile, and you look away.

>g
Faye catches your eye with a tiny smile, and you look away.

>x faye
Faye is a sophomore. You haven't gotten to know her very well, but her choice of subject isn't a surprise. You could probably find another Jack Skellington among her tattoos, if you looked hard enough.

>talk to faye
Anxiety creeps over your skull: You have no idea how to talk to Faye.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "I like your tattoos." 
[3] "Tell me about your drawing." 
[4] "See you later." 

>1
"How?" You falter, and Nathalie steps in. "Hey Faye," she says, handing her a water bottle. "What are you doing after this?"

Faye stares into space. "I think I'm gonna head back to my room and stand in front of the air conditioner for like, an hour. Or I'm just gonna crawl inside my freezer."

"You have a freezer?"

"My minifridge has a freezer compartment. It's tiny, but... I'll manage." Faye nods reassuringly.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "I like your tattoos." 
[3] "Tell me about your drawing." 
[4] "See you later." 

>3
You try to say "Tell me about your drawing" as if you just noticed it and never said anything embarrassing about it.

"Well, Nightmare Before Christmas is one of my favorite movies, ever since I was a kid. I always thought Jack Skellington was really cute."

It occurs to you that the Honors program is full of weirdos.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "I like your tattoos." 
[3] "Tell me about your drawing." 
[4] "See you later." 

>2
"I like your tattoos."

"Oh, thanks." She looks down over herself. "I never get lonely, that's for sure."

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "I like your tattoos." 
[3] "Tell me about your drawing." 
[4] "See you later." 

>2
"I like your tattoos."

"Oh, thanks." She looks down over herself. "I never get lonely, that's for sure."

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "I like your tattoos." 
[3] "Tell me about your drawing." 
[4] "See you later." 

>4
"See you later."

"Sure." Faye gets back to work.

>l
Faye's Space
There's a run-down old drinking fountain along this east-west stretch of sidewalk, between the trees and the softball field.

Nathalie stands off to the side.

Faye's chalk art is a complicated piece with maybe a dozen characters. And somehow, she's already almost finished.

>se
The woods look shady, yes, but you imagine they are also full of ticks and mosquitos. The sidewalk goes east and west.

>e

Jessica's Space
Here, finally, there's a bench, where the sidewalk turns from west to south. The picturesqueness of the spot contrasts dramatically with torn-up Second Street just a little ways to the east.

Jessica is working on a curved block of pavement, drawing a diverse and vibrant array of flowers.

Nathalie is right behind you.

>n
There's a tall fence around the softball field, and no way in. The sidewalk goes south and west.

>e
The construction workers in charge of resurfacing Second Street aren't around today, but clearly they don't want people entering their workspace. The sidewalk goes south and west.

>x jessica
Jessica is the only person you know of who comes to the Honors center just to read. One time you found her reading in the stairwell when the main study/hangout area had gotten too boisterous.

And she's a junior, a music major. She plays the... You can't remember the word.

>talk to nathalie
Nathalie perks up when you turn her way.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "How are you so chipper?" 
[3] "Could I get another bottle of water?" 
[4] "How'd you get to be the hydration officer, anyway?" 
[5] "What do you think of the flowers?" 
[6] "Thanks." 

>5
You and Nathalie step off of the trail for a conference: "What do you think of the flowers?" you ask.

Nathalie looks over her shoulder at Jessica. "Not my kind of thing," she says. "Too simple."

"It's a lot of different flowers, though."

"But the thinking is simple."

You don't have the energy to pursue the subject.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "How are you so chipper?" 
[3] "Could I get another bottle of water?" 
[4] "How'd you get to be the hydration officer, anyway?" 
[5] "What do you think of the flowers?" 
[6] "Thanks." 

>6
"Thanks, Nathalie."

"Hey, no problem."

>l
Jessica's Space
There's a bench here, for weary wanderers such as yourself, where the sidewalk turns from west to south. The picturesqueness of the spot contrasts dramatically with torn-up Second Street just a little ways to the east.

Nathalie stands off to the side.

Jessica is working on a curved block of pavement, drawing a diverse and vibrant array of flowers.

>x jessica
Jessica is the only person you know of who comes to the Honors center just to read. One time you found her reading in the stairwell when the main study/hangout area had gotten too boisterous.

And she's a junior, a music major. She plays the... You can't remember the word.

>x flowers
Jessica has drawn a huge bouquet of lilies, roses, and orchids, all rendered with a level of realism that overwhelms you with the force of a strong perfume?But you're not really smelling anything. That was confusing.

>talk to jessica
Jessica looks up and wipes some sweat from her forehead. "Yes?"

[1] "How are you?" 
[2] "What's the problem here?" 
[3] "I love your flowers." 
[4] "Well, see you later." 

>1
"How are you?"

Jessica sighs deeply. "Actually, I'm in kind of a rotten mood. Sorry."

"Oh. That's too bad." Well, you're supposed to be doing something about it.

[1] "How are you?" 
[2] "What's the problem here?" 
[3] "I love your flowers." 
[4] "Well, see you later." 

>3
"I love your flowers," you say. "I mean, your drawing of flowers. They're gorgeous."

"Thanks..." Jessica is not as enthused.

[1] "How are you?" 
[2] "What's the problem here?" 
[3] "I love your flowers." 
[4] "Well, see you later." 

>4
"Well, see you later."

"Okay. But please, make Xavier change his design."

>w

Faye's Space
There's a run-down old drinking fountain along this east-west stretch of sidewalk, between the trees and the softball field.

Faye's chalk art is a complicated piece with maybe a dozen characters. And somehow, she's already almost finished.

Nathalie follows along.

>talk to nathalie
Nathalie perks up when you turn her way.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "How are you so chipper?" 
[3] "Could I get another bottle of water?" 
[4] "How'd you get to be the hydration officer, anyway?" 
[5] "What's your opinion of Faye's art?" 
[6] "Thanks." 

>5
"What's your opinion of Faye's art?"

"It's very good. It doesn't have to be totally original, right? What's the scoring rubric say?"

It occurs to you that Hina has not given you a scoring rubric.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "How are you so chipper?" 
[3] "Could I get another bottle of water?" 
[4] "How'd you get to be the hydration officer, anyway?" 
[5] "What's your opinion of Faye's art?" 
[6] "Thanks." 

>6
"Thanks, Nathalie."

"Hey, no problem."

>w

Jonathan's Space
The sidewalk turns from north to east at the border of a small wooded area.

Jonathan is sitting on a wooden balance beam, contemplating his drawing. His sidewalk square has been divided into a grid of hexagons, overlaid on a bird's-eye view of a snow-covered island.

Nathalie follows along.

>talk to nathalie
Nathalie perks up when you turn her way.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "How are you so chipper?" 
[3] "Could I get another bottle of water?" 
[4] "How'd you get to be the hydration officer, anyway?" 
[5] "What do you think of that map?" 
[6] "Thanks." 

>5
When you're a bit further away from Jonathan you ask: "What do you think of that map?"

"It's kind of, I dunno. I don't see why he needs a grid on top of it."

"Maybe it makes it easier to keep track of everything," you offer.

"I guess."

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "How are you so chipper?" 
[3] "Could I get another bottle of water?" 
[4] "How'd you get to be the hydration officer, anyway?" 
[5] "What do you think of that map?" 
[6] "Thanks." 

>6
"Thanks, Nathalie."

"Hey, no problem."

>n

Rachel's Space
The sidewalk continues north and south between the softball field and a steep hill. Rachel has been assigned a square of cement near a steel bike rack.

At the moment, Rachel is stretched out on the grass, soaking up the sun, eyes hidden behind huge sunglasses. Her phone lies in the grass next to her. Her chalk drawing, a simple slogan, is already finished.

Nathalie comes up alongside, dragging her water cooler behind her.

>talk to nathalie
Nathalie perks up when you turn her way.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "How are you so chipper?" 
[3] "Could I get another bottle of water?" 
[4] "How'd you get to be the hydration officer, anyway?" 
[5] "What do you think about Rachel's entry?" 
[6] "Thanks." 

>5
You and Nathalie take a few steps away from the "art."

"What do you think about Rachel's entry?"

"Rachel is tedious," Nathalie says, and apparently that's all she has to say.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "How are you so chipper?" 
[3] "Could I get another bottle of water?" 
[4] "How'd you get to be the hydration officer, anyway?" 
[5] "What do you think about Rachel's entry?" 
[6] "Thanks." 

>6
"Thanks, Nathalie."

"Hey, no problem."

>n

Victoria's Space
The sidewalk bends south and east here, at the edge of the parking lot.

Victoria is hunched over her square of sidewalk, filling in the details of a huge, twisting python. A plastic container is nestled in the grass nearby.

Nathalie comes up alongside, dragging her water cooler behind her.

>talk to nathalie
Nathalie perks up when you turn her way.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "How are you so chipper?" 
[3] "Could I get another bottle of water?" 
[4] "How'd you get to be the hydration officer, anyway?" 
[5] "How do you like this snake?" 
[6] "Thanks." 

>5
You maneuver Nathalie to a spot where you can talk without being overheard. "How do you like this snake?" you ask.

"I love it. It's creepy."

"Creepy is a good thing?"

"I love creepy! Well, okay." She takes a second to consider. "There are different kinds of creepy," she concludes.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "How are you so chipper?" 
[3] "Could I get another bottle of water?" 
[4] "How'd you get to be the hydration officer, anyway?" 
[5] "How do you like this snake?" 
[6] "Thanks." 

>6
"Thanks, Nathalie."

"Hey, no problem."

>e

Judges' Table
The softball field's aluminum bleachers offer a meager amount of shade, so this is where Hina decided the judges should sit while the artists work. Hina and Alec are sitting at opposite ends of the table; your spot is in the middle. The sidewalk, the "canvas" of the sidewalk chalk tournament, runs west and east.

Nathalie follows along.

>talk to nathalie
Nathalie perks up when you turn her way.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "How are you so chipper?" 
[3] "Could I get another bottle of water?" 
[4] "How'd you get to be the hydration officer, anyway?" 
[5] "Thanks." 

>5
"Thanks, Nathalie."

"Hey, no problem."

>e

Shed
The sidewalk stops well before it reaches the equipment shed, leaving a long stretch of sand in between. Beyond the shed is the intersection of First Avenue and Second Street: An impassable wasteland.

An empty bucket sits near the shed.

Nathalie follows you.

>talk to nathalie
Nathalie perks up when you turn her way.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "How are you so chipper?" 
[3] "Could I get another bottle of water?" 
[4] "How'd you get to be the hydration officer, anyway?" 
[5] "Thanks." 

>5
"Thanks, Nathalie."

"Hey, no problem."

>w

Judges' Table
The softball field's aluminum bleachers offer a meager amount of shade, so this is where Hina decided the judges should sit while the artists work. Hina and Alec are sitting at opposite ends of the table; your spot is in the middle. The sidewalk, the "canvas" of the sidewalk chalk tournament, runs west and east.

Nathalie is right behind you.

>w

Victoria's Space
The sidewalk bends south and east here, at the edge of the parking lot.

Victoria is hunched over her square of sidewalk, filling in the details of a huge, twisting python. A plastic container is nestled in the grass nearby.

Nathalie follows along.

>w
In your estimation, getting to the top of this hill would qualify as a hike, and you're not dressed for a hike. The sidewalk goes east and south.

>s

Rachel's Space
The sidewalk continues north and south between the softball field and a steep hill. Rachel has been assigned a square of cement near a steel bike rack.

At the moment, Rachel is stretched out on the grass, soaking up the sun, eyes hidden behind huge sunglasses. Her phone lies in the grass next to her. Her chalk drawing, a simple slogan, is already finished.

Nathalie is right behind you.

>s

Jonathan's Space
The sidewalk turns from north to east at the border of a small wooded area.

Jonathan is sitting on a wooden balance beam, contemplating his drawing. His sidewalk square has been divided into a grid of hexagons, overlaid on a bird's-eye view of a snow-covered island.

Nathalie follows you.

>s
The woods look shady, yes, but you imagine they are also full of ticks and mosquitos. The sidewalk goes east and north.

>e

Faye's Space
There's a run-down old drinking fountain along this east-west stretch of sidewalk, between the trees and the softball field.

Faye's chalk art is a complicated piece with maybe a dozen characters. And somehow, she's already almost finished.

Nathalie follows along.

>e

Jessica's Space
There's a bench here, for weary wanderers such as yourself, where the sidewalk turns from west to south. The picturesqueness of the spot contrasts dramatically with torn-up Second Street just a little ways to the east.

Jessica is working on a curved block of pavement, drawing a diverse and vibrant array of flowers.

Nathalie follows along.

>talk to jessica
Jessica looks up and wipes some sweat from her forehead. "Yes?"

[1] "How are you?" 
[2] "What's the problem here?" 
[3] "I love your flowers." 
[4] "Well, see you later." 

>2
"What's the problem here?"

"I'm really sorry," she says, "but I don't think Xavier's piece is appropriate. And since it's associated with the Honors program, I just think..."

"What exactly is inappropriate about it?" asks Nathalie.

"Well, you should probably see it for yourself," she says, gesturing further down the sidewalk.

Oh no. More walking.

[1] "How are you?" 
[2] "What's the problem here?" 
[3] "I love your flowers." 
[4] "Well, see you later." 

>4
"Well, see you later."

"Okay. But please, make Xavier change his design."

>e
The construction workers in charge of resurfacing Second Street aren't around today, but clearly they don't want people entering their workspace. The sidewalk goes south and west.

>s

Xavier's Space
This is where there would be a crosswalk for Second Street, if there were a Second Street. There's a button for the crosswalk, but there is no crosswalk.

You feel a little hemmed in by the torn-up street to the east and all the trees to the west and south. The sidewalk only goes north from here.

Xavier is kneeling over his drawing, hard at work.

Nathalie is right behind you.

>x button
The button says PUSH FOR WALK SIGNAL, but there's no signal to push for.

>push
(the water bottle)
You don't have the energy.

>push button
You push the button. Nothing happens. You giggle quietly.

>s
The woods look shady, yes, but you imagine they are also full of ticks and mosquitos. The sidewalk goes north.

>w
The woods look shady, yes, but you imagine they are also full of ticks and mosquitos. The sidewalk goes north.

>e
The construction workers in charge of resurfacing Second Street aren't around today, but clearly they don't want people entering their workspace. The sidewalk goes north.

>l
Xavier's Space
This is where there would be a crosswalk for Second Street, if there were a Second Street. There's a button for the crosswalk, but there is no crosswalk.

You feel a little hemmed in by the torn-up street to the east and all the trees to the west and south. The sidewalk only goes north from here.

Nathalie stands off to the side.

Xavier is kneeling over his drawing, hard at work.

>x xavier
Xavier is an art major so it's not even fair that he would enter this tournament in the first place. And of course he has to cause trouble. Last year he did a photography exhibition in the Honors center. Just an excuse to put up a bunch of naked pictures of naked people.

>* wait were the pictures themselves naked or...?
That's not a verb I recognize.

>x art
On the sidewalk is a curvaceous woman with red skin, goatish horns, and very little clothing. Her lips are parted sultrily, as if she's about to whisper something to you. Your throat feels tight.

"More interesting than a bunch of flowers, that's for sure," says Nathalie.

>* I mean is it?
That's not a verb I recognize.

>* not to be prudish but on this description, this is like truck-mudflap stuff
You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom.

>talk to nathalie
Nathalie perks up when you turn her way.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "What do you think of Xavier's drawing?" 
[3] "What do you think I should do?" 
[4] "Thanks." 

>1
"How's it going?"

Nathalie shrugs. "Oh, I'm fine." She really is. It's like the heat isn't getting to her at all.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "What do you think of Xavier's drawing?" 
[3] "What do you think I should do?" 
[4] "Thanks." 

>2
"What do you think of Xavier's drawing?" you ask, not concerning yourself with whether he can hear.

"Well, it's got my attention," Nathalie says. "I think people are really going to respond to her."

Xavier presses a hand to his chest. "Oh my gosh, Nathalie, that is the nicest fake compliment I've ever received in my life."

She grins. "Shut up, kid. You know I love you. Keep up the good work."

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "What do you think of Xavier's drawing?" 
[3] "What do you think I should do?" 
[4] "Thanks." 

>4
"Thanks, Nathalie."

"Hey, no problem."

>talk to xavier
While you're trying to think of a way to engage, Nathalie steps in. "Hey Xavier. Nice succubus."

"Thanks!" He's in the middle of adding white highlights to make it look like her skin (there's a lot of skin) is reflecting the sun.

"Did you know Jessica complained about it?"

"I know she didn't seem to like it when she was over here earlier. But, what I've learned is, people are always going to have opinions."

"Well, I brought a judge over, to make a judgment call." Finally Nathalie steps aside and presents you. Xavier spreads his arms and presents his mostly-naked demoness.

"What do you think?"

Your head hurts.

>x succubus
On the sidewalk is a curvaceous woman with red skin, goatish horns, and very little clothing. Her lips are parted sultrily, as if she's about to whisper something to you. Your throat feels tight.

>talk to xavier
"So, what do you say, judge?"

"Well, she's... scary."

"I'll take it," says Xavier.

"But you're not gonna disqualify him or anything, right?" Nathalie asks.

"I'll... I think I should confer with the other judges."

Nathalie scoffs; Xavier shrugs.

>talk to nathalie
Nathalie perks up when you turn her way.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "What do you think of Xavier's drawing?" 
[3] "What do you think I should do?" 
[4] "Thanks." 

>3
"What?" You stumble. Nathalie reaches out to steady you.

"Hey. Are you doing okay?"

"No, yeah." You don't want her to worry about you. "I'm just stressed, I think."

"That makes sense. Let's get back to Hina and see if you can take a little break."

You're not as proud as you are exhausted, so you just nod.

>g
Nathalie perks up when you turn her way.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "What do you think of Xavier's drawing?" 
[3] "What do you think I should do?" 
[4] "Thanks." 

>2
"What do you think of Xavier's drawing?" you ask, not concerning yourself with whether he can hear.

"Well, it's got my attention," Nathalie says. "I think people are really going to respond to her."

Xavier presses a hand to his chest. "Oh my gosh, Nathalie, that is the nicest fake compliment I've ever received in my life."

She grins. "Shut up, kid. You know I love you. Keep up the good work."

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "What do you think of Xavier's drawing?" 
[3] "What do you think I should do?" 
[4] "Thanks." 

>1
"How's it going?"

Nathalie shrugs. "Oh, I'm fine." She really is. It's like the heat isn't getting to her at all.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "What do you think of Xavier's drawing?" 
[3] "What do you think I should do?" 
[4] "Thanks." 

>3
"Come on," Nathalie says, "Let's just report back to Hina." She almost puts her arm on your shoulder.

>n

Jessica's Space
There's a bench here, for weary wanderers such as yourself, where the sidewalk turns from west to south. The picturesqueness of the spot contrasts dramatically with torn-up Second Street just a little ways to the east.

Jessica's flowers seem almost finished, but she's still focused on coloring in one of the petals.

Nathalie follows along.

>s

Xavier's Space
This is where there would be a crosswalk for Second Street, if there were a Second Street. There's a button for the crosswalk, but there is no crosswalk.

You feel a little hemmed in by the torn-up street to the east and all the trees to the west and south. The sidewalk only goes north from here.

Xavier is kneeling over his drawing, hard at work.

Nathalie follows along.

>talk to xavier
You don't have anything more to say to Xavier quite yet.

>put water on demon
(the water bottle on the succubus)
This water is the only thing keeping you going. It would be madness to leave it here.

>pour water onto demon
You can't see that anywhere nearby.

>open bottle
You open your water bottle and drink down the last mouthful. Delicious.

>talk to nathalie
Nathalie perks up when you turn her way.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "What do you think of Xavier's drawing?" 
[3] "What do you think I should do?" 
[4] "Thanks." 

>4
"Thanks, Nathalie."

"Hey, no problem."

>n

Jessica's Space
There's a bench here, for weary wanderers such as yourself, where the sidewalk turns from west to south. The picturesqueness of the spot contrasts dramatically with torn-up Second Street just a little ways to the east.

Jessica's flowers seem almost finished, but she's still focused on coloring in one of the petals.

Nathalie is right behind you.

>talk to nathalie
Nathalie perks up when you turn her way.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "What do you think of the flowers?" 
[3] "What do you think I should do?" 
[4] "Thanks." 

>3
"Come on," Nathalie says, "Let's just report back to Hina." She almost puts her arm on your shoulder.

>x container
You can't see that anywhere nearby.

>x cooler
A huge plastic cooler with battered plastic wheels, and a handle so you can drag it from place to place. Nathalie's primary concern must have been size: It takes a lot of water bottles to keep a sidewalk chalk tournament hydrated, especially on a day like this.

>open it
The cooler is Nathalie's responsibility.

>take water
(the water cooler)
That seems to belong to Nathalie.

>take bottle
You already have that.

>i
You are carrying:
  a water bottle

>x bottle
Your water bottle is empty. It's not a good feeling.

>give bottle to nathalie
"Could I get another bottle of water?" you ask, trying not to sound desperate.

"Of course you could, young lady." Nathalie relieves you of your empty bottle and gets a full one out of the cooler. "There you go. As cold as it gets, for all that's worth."

It feels plenty cold to you, and you thank her sincerely.

"No need to thank me. Just doing my duty as hydration officer."

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "What do you think of the flowers?" 
[3] "What do you think I should do?" 
[4] "Thanks." 

>4
"Thanks, Nathalie."

"Hey, no problem."

>talk to jessica
"So?" asks Jessica from down on the sidewalk.

"I..." You feel a little woozy. Authority makes you feel woozy. "I agree it's inappropriate." (Nathalie rolls her eyes.) "I'm gonna go ask Hina what we can do about it."

"Thanks," says Jessica, obviously disappointed. She leans over a lily and colors it in slowly.

>s

Xavier's Space
This is where there would be a crosswalk for Second Street, if there were a Second Street. There's a button for the crosswalk, but there is no crosswalk.

You feel a little hemmed in by the torn-up street to the east and all the trees to the west and south. The sidewalk only goes north from here.

Xavier is kneeling over his drawing, hard at work.

Nathalie follows along.

>open bottle
You open the bottle. You raise the bottle to your lips and, forgetting yourself for a moment, you chug down an unladylike gulp.

But it's so satisfying.

You put the lid back on the bottle.

>pour water onto demoness
You can't see that anywhere nearby.

>pour water onto succubus
You can't see that anywhere nearby.

>pour bottle onto demon
I only understood you as far as wanting to pour the water bottle.

>* I guess I can't cut this particular gordian knot
That's not a verb I recognize.

>n

Jessica's Space
There's a bench here, for weary wanderers such as yourself, where the sidewalk turns from west to south. The picturesqueness of the spot contrasts dramatically with torn-up Second Street just a little ways to the east.

Jessica's flowers seem almost finished, but she's still focused on coloring in one of the petals.

Nathalie follows along.

>w

Faye's Space
There's a run-down old drinking fountain along this east-west stretch of sidewalk, between the trees and the softball field.

Faye's Nightmare Before Christmas scene is complete, and now she's lying in the grass off the sidewalk.

"Hey, it's finished!" Nathalie rushes over to admire the drawing. "I'm not a judge, so I can say without fear of retribution that I completely love this. Jack Skellington is my role model."

Faye doesn't say anything. She's just running her hands over the grass, a goofy smile on her lips.

>x grass
The grass is a little high. Someone will come around to mow it sooner or later.

>x faye
Faye is lying on her stomach, enjoying the feeling of the grass against her tattooed hands.

Xavier's demon whispers: See anything you like?

>talk to faye
"Nice work, Faye!" you say, even though you're supposed to be impartial.

But she doesn't look up. "Just a minute," she calls out, as she inspects the grass.

>e

Jessica's Space
There's a bench here, for weary wanderers such as yourself, where the sidewalk turns from west to south. The picturesqueness of the spot contrasts dramatically with torn-up Second Street just a little ways to the east.

Jessica's flowers seem almost finished, but she's still focused on coloring in one of the petals.

Nathalie comes up alongside, dragging her water cooler behind her.

>x jessica
Jessica is the only person you know of who comes to the Honors center just to read. One time you found her reading in the stairwell when the main study/hangout area had gotten too boisterous.

And she's a junior, a music major. She plays the... You can't remember the word.

>x flowers
Jessica has drawn a huge bouquet of lilies, roses, and orchids. Very realistic. Unaccountably realistic.

You turn to look at something else.

>talk to jessica
You should come back to Jessica when you have some good news.

>w

Faye's Space
There's a run-down old drinking fountain along this east-west stretch of sidewalk, between the trees and the softball field.

Faye's Nightmare Before Christmas scene is complete, and now she's lying in the grass off the sidewalk.

Nathalie follows along.

>w

Jonathan's Space
The sidewalk turns from north to east at the border of a small wooded area.

Jonathan is staring straight down at the cement, lazily filling in the blue sea surrounding his island.

Nathalie follows you.

>x island
The wintry island looks so inviting. You'd like to be trudging over a snowy glacier right now. You'd like to fall to your knees and stuff handfuls of snow into your mouth?But that's not snow. It's white chalk.

>talk to jonathan
"You doing okay, Jonathan?" you ask. "You need some more water?"

Jonathan nods without looking up, and Nathalie obliges.

Jonathan rubs the bottle all over his face and chest before he opens it and starts sucking it down.

>g
He seems like he'll be okay.

>x jonathan
Jonathan's art seems to command all of his focus, even though all he's doing is coloring the water blue. Completely relatable.

>talk to nathalie
Nathalie perks up when you turn her way.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "What do you think of that map?" 
[3] "What do you think I should do?" 
[4] "Thanks." 

>2
When you're a bit further away from Jonathan you ask: "What do you think of that map?"

"It's kind of, I dunno. I don't see why he needs a grid on top of it."

"Maybe it makes it easier to keep track of everything," you offer.

"I guess."

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "What do you think of that map?" 
[3] "What do you think I should do?" 
[4] "Thanks." 

>3
"Come on," Nathalie says, "Let's just report back to Hina." She almost puts her arm on your shoulder.

>n

Rachel's Space
The sidewalk continues north and south between the softball field and a steep hill. Rachel has been assigned a square of cement near a steel bike rack.

Rachel is still sunbathing; she finished her chalk-slogan-thing forever ago.

Nathalie follows you.

>x rachel
Rachel is wearing basically a bathing suit, just to show off for the boys. Alec will probably give her "entry" a perfect score.

>x slogan
You look at Rachel's "art" again and roll your eyes.

>talk to rachel
You really don't have time for Rachel.

>talk to nathalie
Nathalie perks up when you turn her way.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "What do you think about Rachel's entry?" 
[3] "What do you think I should do?" 
[4] "Thanks." 

>2
You and Nathalie take a few steps away from the "art."

"What do you think about Rachel's entry?"

"Rachel is tedious," Nathalie says, and apparently that's all she has to say.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "What do you think about Rachel's entry?" 
[3] "What do you think I should do?" 
[4] "Thanks." 

>4
"Thanks, Nathalie."

"Hey, no problem."

>n

Victoria's Space
The sidewalk bends south and east here, at the edge of the parking lot.

Victoria's python is finished. She's sitting in the grass, staring at the cars.

Nathalie follows you.

>x python
You glance down at Victoria's finished drawing and jump back in shock. It looks really real. It looks upsettingly real.

You have to look at something else.

>talk to victoria
Victoria doesn't react as you approach.

[1] "Hey, are you okay?" 
[2] Leave her alone. 

>2
You take a step back.

>x victoria
Victoria is watching the parking lot, like she's expecting something to happen.

>x lot
A bunch of hot cars sitting under the sun. You don't see anything out of the ordinary.

>talk to victoria
Victoria doesn't react as you approach.

[1] "Hey, are you okay?" 
[2] Leave her alone. 

>1
"Hey, are you okay?"

Victoria doesn't respond.

[1] "Victoria?" 
[2] Leave her alone. 

>1
"Victoria?" you call, a little louder. She looks back at you, and then she points out into the parking lot.

"You see that?" she says.

You try to follow her gesture, but nothing stands out to you.

[1] "What are you pointing at?" 
[2] Leave her alone. 

>1
"What are you pointing at?"

Victoria snaps back to reality. "Oh. Nothing." She looks down at the grass.

[1] "Are you okay?" 
[2] Leave her alone. 

>1
"Are you okay?"

She turns around and gives you a big smile. "Sure. I just spaced out for a second."

[1] "Are you okay?" 
[2] Leave her alone. 

>1
"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, definitely. Don't worry about me."

[1] "Are you okay?" 
[2] Leave her alone. 

>1
You almost ask again. But you stop yourself. She says she's fine. Maybe she just has a weird way of showing it.

[1] "Are you okay?" 
[2] Leave her alone. 

>1
You almost ask again. But you stop yourself. She says she's fine. Maybe she just has a weird way of showing it.

[1] "Are you okay?" 
[2] Leave her alone. 

>1
You almost ask again. But you stop yourself. She says she's fine. Maybe she just has a weird way of showing it.

[1] "Are you okay?" 
[2] Leave her alone. 

>2
You take a step back.

>x lot
A bunch of hot cars sitting under the sun. You don't see anything out of the ordinary.

>x cards
You can't see that anywhere nearby.

>x cars
A bunch of hot cars sitting under the sun. You don't see anything out of the ordinary.

>x nathalie
Nathalie gives you a reassuring smile. You can handle this.

>talk to her
Who do you mean, Nathalie or Victoria?

>nathalie
Nathalie perks up when you turn her way.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "How do you like this snake?" 
[3] "What do you think I should do?" 
[4] "Thanks." 

>2
You maneuver Nathalie to a spot where you can talk without being overheard. "How do you like this snake?" you ask.

"I love it. It's creepy."

"Creepy is a good thing?"

"I love creepy! Well, okay." She takes a second to consider. "There are different kinds of creepy," she concludes.

[1] "How's it going?" 
[2] "How do you like this snake?" 
[3] "What do you think I should do?" 
[4] "Thanks." 

>4
"Thanks, Nathalie."

"Hey, no problem."

>n
Wading out into First Avenue would be muddy and unpleasant, and you have a job you're supposed to be doing. The sidewalk goes east and south.

>e

Judges' Table
At least it's a little shady here.

Hina and Alec are sitting at either end of the table, waiting for you.

Nathalie is right behind you.

>e
Hina calls out to you as you move past the judges' table. "Lane? Can you come over here first?"

>sit
"Well?" Hina asks as you approach. You open your mouth.

"Sheesh, Hina, can't you see she's about to fall over?" Alec stands up and guides you to your chair. "You can make your report sitting down. This isn't the Marines."

Hina waits with clenched teeth for you to sit. "So what did Xavier draw that Jessica had a problem with?"

"It was a..." You gesticulate weakly, searching for the right words.

Nathalie cuts in: "A big sexy demon with her boobs hanging out."

You nod, and your body wobbles beneath the weight of your head.

Hina slaps her own forehead. "For Pete's sake, Xavier... Okay, here's what we're going to do:"

But her voice fades away as you slump forward and lose consciousness.

Please press any key to continue.

§2

Lane's head thumps against the table, and you leap to your feet in alarm. Hina loses her cool for maybe an eighth of a second, then she grabs Lane by the shoulders.

"Did she faint?" you ask, before you realize that yes, obviously, she fainted.

"We need to get her on her back," Hina says. Before you can make your legs move, Nathalie glares at you and steps in to assist. The two of them position Lane on the grass; Hina leans down to check her breathing.

Behind the Bleachers
The judges' folding table is set up behind the bleachers, out of the sun, on a strip of bike trail leading east and west.

You stand by uselessly, your blood pounding in your ears. You should do something.

>* so we're alec now?
That's not a verb I recognize.

>* Man and I was trying to sard to stay hydrated
That's not a verb I recognize.

>x lane
Lane looks like she's just sleeping on the grass. Hina is kneeling at her head, gently trying to wake her up. Well, now she's being a little less gentle.

Lane's eyes open, and she groans wordlessly. Hina tells her everything's fine.

>i
You are carrying:
  an empty water bottle

>x nathalie
Nathalie has Lane's feet up on her lap, since apparently that's what you do with fainted people. She is way too comfortable with this situation. Why is everyone else on this planet able to handle stuff?

>x cooler
Nathalie's huge cooler, full of cold, delicious bottled water. That would really hit the spot?But you have other things to do right now.

>take water
You already have that.

>l
Behind the Bleachers
The judges' folding table is set up behind the bleachers, out of the sun, on a strip of bike trail leading east and west. Lane is lying on the grass just off the path, with Hina petting her forehead and Nathalie keeping her feet elevated.

>x hina
Hina is petting Lane's head and gently coaxing her back to full awareness. But there's a certain edge to her gentleness, as if she's also very frustrated that someone else is just standing there watching instead of doing anything to help.

>help lane
I only understood you as far as wanting to help.

>* Yeah I dunno
That's not a verb I recognize.

>give water to lane
Nobody cares about your empty bottle.

>no like get a full one first
I only understood you as far as wanting to no.

>take full water bottle
That's not anything around here.

>e
You can't just walk off. Hina probably wants you to help out somehow.

>w
You can't just walk off. Hina probably wants you to help out somehow.

>drop empty
The responsible thing would be to dispose of your empty bottle properly. That is, you should give it to Nathalie, so she can dispose of it properly.

>give empty to nathalie
Nathalie is a little busy right now.

>* right
That's not a verb I recognize.

>l
Behind the Bleachers
The judges' folding table is set up behind the bleachers, out of the sun, on a strip of bike trail leading east and west. Lane is lying on the grass just off the path, with Hina petting her forehead and Nathalie keeping her feet elevated.

>x table
It's a folding table from the Honors center. It looks heavy.

>x lane
Lane is lying on the ground being groggy. The sight is extremely distressing, but you tell yourself that Hina and Nathalie know what they're doing.

>g
Lane is lying on the ground being groggy. The sight is extremely distressing, but you tell yourself that Hina and Nathalie know what they're doing.

>take lane
You have no use for that.

>* ouch
That's not a verb I recognize.

>x hina
Hina is petting Lane's head and gently coaxing her back to full awareness. But there's a certain edge to her gentleness, as if she's also very frustrated that someone else is just standing there watching instead of doing anything to help.

>talk to hina
"Should I call 911?" you ask. Hina doesn't look up.

"I'm pre-med. I know what to do when someone faints," she grumbles.

"And I have street smarts," adds Nathalie.

"Then, what should I do?"

Hina closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. "Get a bucket of water and erase Xavier's demon lady. I don't have time to argue with him. Tell him he can start over and draw something more appropriate, or if he wants he can just go home."

Nathalie produces a strangled groan of protest. You just nod.

>* Ah, OK, right idea, just premature
You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom.

>talk to nathalie
"Is she okay?" you ask. 

"She's fine," Nathalie says. "She just needs a rest." She seems pretty confident.

>talk to lane
Lane is nominally awake, but she's not really in a talking mood.

>e

Shed
There's a big sand pit in between the end of the bike trail and the equipment shed. It looks like they just gave up on finishing the trail. It also looks like they gave up on reconstructing the intersection northeast of here. Everything's torn up, destroyed, and abandoned.

There's an empty bucket on the ground here.

>e
The fence surrounding Highway 6 wouldn't stop you, normally, but since you're acting as an agent of the Honors program and Hina is already kind of mad at you, you should probably play along with some of society's arbitrary limitations for today. The bike trail goes west.

>n
You don't want to venture into the primal chaos of Mormon Trek Boulevard; your pants would get all muddy. The bike trail goes west.

>x me
Your name is Alec; you're wearing a brown shirt and bluejeans. Based on what people have told you, you believe yourself to be average-looking. You thought Hina wanted your creative and administrative input on this Sidewalk Chalk Tournament, but it turns out what she really wanted was a warm body to sit at the judges' table.

You shouldn't be so critical of Hina. She's under a lot of stress. But aren't you under a lot of stress too? Everyone is. It's the human condition.

>s
There's a high fence around the field, and all the entrances are locked, so that troublemakers like you can't get in there and snoop around or mess with the bases or discover what's buried under the pitcher's mound. The bike trail goes west.

>i
You are carrying:
  an empty water bottle

>x bottle
You finished this one off pretty fast. Nathalie will probably give you another one, once all this urgent stuff is dealt with.

>l
Shed
There's a big sand pit in between the end of the bike trail and the equipment shed. It looks like they just gave up on finishing the trail. It also looks like they gave up on reconstructing the intersection northeast of here. Everything's torn up, destroyed, and abandoned.

There's an empty bucket on the ground here.

>x bucket
A classic metal bucket. Very conveniently located, too.

>x shed
A grim, utilitarian structure. Almost like a bunker. The heavy door is shut.

There's a brass faucet sticking out of the side.

>open it
The door is locked. Well, you don't really need to get inside at the moment anyway.

>x faucet
The faucet doesn't have a handle: Instead, there's a little square hole where you're supposed to insert a key.

>turn faucet
You can't turn on the faucet; it doesn't have a handle. There's a square hole where you're supposed to insert a key, which you don't have.

Hopefully Hina has it.

>take bucket
You pick up the bucket.

>kick bucket
Violence won't accomplish anything.

>w

Behind the Bleachers
The judges' folding table is set up behind the bleachers, out of the sun, on a strip of bike trail leading east and west. Lane is lying on the grass just off the path, with Hina petting her forehead and Nathalie keeping her feet elevated.

>talk to hina
"What is it?"

"Sorry, I need the key thingy. For the shed. For the water."

Hina sighs impatiently. (Well, this part isn't exactly your fault, is it?) She finds the key in her pocket and hands it to you without saying anything.

>e

Shed
There's a big sand pit in between the end of the bike trail and the equipment shed. It looks like they just gave up on finishing the trail. It also looks like they gave up on reconstructing the intersection northeast of here. Everything's torn up, destroyed, and abandoned.

>turn faucet
You place the bucket beneath the spigot, stick the key in the hole on top, and twist it. Clear water pours out and splashes noisily in the bottom of the bucket. The resonance is deeply satisfying. You almost feel a little sleepy.

As the bucket begins to overflow, you snap back to awareness and turn off the faucet. You pull out the key; you don't want to lose that.

Then you pick up the bucket. It's heavy. Gosh.

Okay, you can do this.

>drink water
Which do you mean, the bucket of water or the empty water bottle?

>bucket
You'll hydrate after you finish this stupid chore.

>* I mean look what happened to LAne
That's not a verb I recognize.

>w

Behind the Bleachers
The judges' folding table is set up behind the bleachers, out of the sun, on a strip of bike trail leading east and west. Lane is lying on the grass just off the path, with Hina petting her forehead and Nathalie keeping her feet elevated.

>talk to hina
"Are you sure about this?" is something you could ask Hina, if you really wanted to get on her nerves, but a smarter plan would be to just do what she says and erase Xavier's art.

>talk to nathalie
"Don't look at me," Nathalie says. "I'm just the hydration officer." She motions her head at Hina, who is decidedly in charge.

>w

Parking Lot
Victoria is sitting in the grass, her head in her hands. Behind her on the bike path is her finished entry, a giant snake.

Curving around from the east, the trail heads south, between the softball field and the overgrown hillside.

Jeez, it's hot.

>x victoria
Victoria is facing the hill, away from the parking lot, away from her drawing. But she's just staring down at the ground.

You step a little closer to Victoria, and eventually you get her attention.

(1) Talk to her about her art. 
(2) Ask her about the event. 
(3) Find out how she's doing. 
(4) Leave her alone. 

>3
"Hey, are you all right?" you ask. Victoria nods without making eye contact. You can't blame her; this heat is unbearable.

(1) Talk to her about her art. 
(2) Ask her about the event. 
(3) Make sure she's okay. 
(4) Leave her alone. 

>1
"Hey, I like your terrifying snake."

"He's not terrifying," she mutters. "He's my best friend."

"Oh. Sorry."

(1) Talk to her about her art. 
(2) Ask her about the event. 
(3) Make sure she's okay. 
(4) Leave her alone. 

>1
"Hey, I like your terrifying snake."

"He's not terrifying," she mutters. "He's my best friend."

"Oh. Sorry."

(1) Talk to her about her art. 
(2) Ask her about the event. 
(3) Make sure she's okay. 
(4) Leave her alone. 

>2
"How are you enjoying the sidewalk chalk tournament?"

Victoria sighs.

"It's taking forever. Can't you judges just pick a winner and get it over with?"

"Oh, sure. We just have to take care of some stuff first." Like destroying Xavier's entry.

(1) Talk to her about her art. 
(2) Ask her about the event. 
(3) Make sure she's okay. 
(4) Leave her alone. 

>3
You take a seat next to Victoria. "Is there anything I can help with?"

She won't look at you. "Don't worry about it," she says. "You don't always have to fix everything."

That doesn't seem right; you can't remember the last time you fixed anything. But you get up and give her some space.

(1) Leave her alone. 

>1
You back off.

>x victoria
Victoria is facing the hill, away from the parking lot, away from her drawing. But she's just staring down at the ground.

>x lot
You glance over the cars. It looks like the only people here are the Honors students involved with the sidewalk chalk tournament.

>x drawing
Fiendish eyes, vampiric fangs, and a long, grasping tongue menace you from the center of Victoria's composition. It doesn't seem to have a tail; the serpent's coils crisscross and undulate and loop back inescapably upon themselves, drawing your gaze inward, back to its jaws, back to its eyes.

The eyes are too vivid. You have to look away.

>x ground
Native prairie has started to reclaim what slivers of territory it can, and this hill is covered in thick grasses and shrubs and things you don't know what they are.

>s

Bike Rack
Rachel is lying on the grass next to her entry, abandoning herself to the merciless sun. Her eyes are hidden behind ridiculous sunglasses.

An empty bike rack stands on the other side of the trail, at the foot of the hill. The trail runs north and south.

Something shrieks in pain. Was that a bird?

Rachel doesn't react.

"Did you hear that?" you ask.

"Hear what?"

>listen
You strain your ears.

Nothing.

>g
You strain your ears.

Nothing.

>x rack
It makes no sense for them to put the bike rack this far down the trail. But nothing they do makes any sense.

>l
Bike Rack
Rachel is lying on the grass next to her entry, abandoning herself to the merciless sun. Her eyes are hidden behind ridiculous sunglasses.

An empty bike rack stands on the other side of the trail, at the foot of the hill. The trail runs north and south.

>x entry
Rachel's chalk "art" is just a logo. No creativity involved. She was making a big deal out of it before the event, and you've already decided what kind of score you're going to give her. Even if she did do kind of a good job of copying the logo.

And it's not because you disagree with her! It's not about anybody's personal beliefs. It's a matter of being boring.

>x sunglasses
These big sunglasses were popular a few years ago, but they just make the person wearing them look like a weird bug.

>x phone
There's a notification on Rachel's phone: Someone texted "hello???" a few minutes ago.

>x rachel
Rachel is wearing an extremely revealing outfit, not at all appropriate for an official Honors program event. You're trying not to ogle anything, but the only acceptable part of her to look at is her sunglasses, and for all you know she's staring right back at you.

Your vision swims for a moment. You'd better finish your job before you end up like Lane.

Rachel sees you coming and props herself up on an elbow, so you can see her midriff properly. "Hey, it's Alec," she says, as if to someone else.

(1) Ask her about that noise. 
(2) Tell her you like her outfit. 
(3) Talk about the chalk thing she drew. 
(4) Talk about the tournament. 
(5) Ask her how she's doing. 
(6) Escape from this conversation. 

>1
"I swear I heard something. Like a bird screaming."

She shrugs. "Good for you."

(1) Ask her about that noise again. 
(2) Tell her you like her outfit. 
(3) Talk about the chalk thing she drew. 
(4) Talk about the tournament. 
(5) Ask her how she's doing. 
(6) Escape from this conversation. 

>1
"Are you sure you didn't hear anything?"

Rachel sighs. "I've been kind of out of it. It's really hot. So, I might have missed all kinds of stuff."

(1) Ask her about that noise again. 
(2) Tell her you like her outfit. 
(3) Talk about the chalk thing she drew. 
(4) Talk about the tournament. 
(5) Ask her how she's doing. 
(6) Escape from this conversation. 

>1
"Are you sure you didn't hear anything?"

Rachel sighs. "I've been kind of out of it. It's really hot. So, I might have missed all kinds of stuff."

(1) Ask her about that noise again. 
(2) Tell her you like her outfit. 
(3) Talk about the chalk thing she drew. 
(4) Talk about the tournament. 
(5) Ask her how she's doing. 
(6) Escape from this conversation. 

>1
"Are you sure you didn't hear anything?"

Rachel sighs. "I've been kind of out of it. It's really hot. So, I might have missed all kinds of stuff."

(1) Ask her about that noise again. 
(2) Tell her you like her outfit. 
(3) Talk about the chalk thing she drew. 
(4) Talk about the tournament. 
(5) Ask her how she's doing. 
(6) Escape from this conversation. 

>2
No way. That is inappropriate.

And she's obviously noticed you staring regardless.

(1) Ask her about that noise again. 
(2) Tell her you like her outfit. 
(3) Talk about the chalk thing she drew. 
(4) Talk about the tournament. 
(5) Ask her how she's doing. 
(6) Escape from this conversation. 

>3
What's something you could say that wouldn't support any kind of position or start any argument? Hmm.

Yeah, no. There's nothing.

(1) Ask her about that noise again. 
(2) Tell her you like her outfit. 
(3) Talk about the chalk thing she drew. 
(4) Talk about the tournament. 
(5) Ask her how she's doing. 
(6) Escape from this conversation. 

>4
Yeah, that should be safe. "How's the sidewalk chalk tournament going for you?" you ask, in a totally neutral manner.

"You tell me, judge." She smirks.

(1) Say something clever. 
(2) Say something evasive. 

>1
You open your mouth. Something clever. You're good at this.

"You'll have to..."

Your head hurts.

"You'll have to wait and see." Perfect.

(1) Ask her about that noise again. 
(2) Tell her you like her outfit. 
(3) Talk about the chalk thing she drew. 
(4) Ask her how she's doing. 
(5) Escape from this conversation. 

>* oi
(You'll have to pick a number from 1 to 5.)

>4
Yeah, that should be safe.

"How are you feeling?" Wait, no, it was supposed to be doing.

"Thirsty," she says. You gulp.

(1) Ask her about that noise again. 
(2) Tell her you like her outfit. 
(3) Talk about the chalk thing she drew. 
(4) Ask her how she's doing. 
(5) Escape from this conversation. 

>4
You're not trying that one again.

(1) Ask her about that noise again. 
(2) Tell her you like her outfit. 
(3) Talk about the chalk thing she drew. 
(4) Ask her how she's doing. 
(5) Escape from this conversation. 

>5
You give Rachel a little wave and move away. She lies back down to finish her tan.

Phew.

>give water to rachel
Which do you mean, the bucket of water or the empty water bottle?

>bucket
You raise the bucket so Rachel can see it from her sunbathing position. She barely moves her head?just enough to convey that she doesn't care.

>put water on slogan
(the bucket of water on the logo)
That would work, actually. Her dumb chalk art is freedom of speech, but erasing her chalk art is freedom of your speech. Is that right? You used to know this.

Oh, but Hina would get mad at you regardless of your legal rights. Never mind.

>n

Parking Lot
Victoria is sitting in the grass, her head in her hands. Behind her on the bike path is her finished entry, a giant snake.

Curving around from the east, the trail heads south, between the softball field and the overgrown hillside.

>put water on art
(the bucket of water on the 2python)
This snake is a threat to the tournament. It has to be removed.

As you raise your bucket, something hisses behind you.

You spin around: There's nothing there.

Some water sloshes onto the pavement.

>g
(the bucket of water on the 2python)
You don't want to press your luck.

>* 2python?  I guess it changes over time
That's not a verb I recognize.

>s

Bike Rack
Rachel is lying on the grass next to her entry, abandoning herself to the merciless sun. Her eyes are hidden behind ridiculous sunglasses.

An empty bike rack stands on the other side of the trail, at the foot of the hill. The trail runs north and south.

>i
You are carrying:
  a bucket of water
  a spigot key
  an empty water bottle

>x bucket
The bucket is very full, although it's getting less full the more it splashes around. It may or may not be enough to finish the task Hina has set for you.

>x key
It's a stubby piece of metal for activating outdoor faucets. This square thing goes inside the square thing on the spigot, and then you turn it.

>s

Balance Beam
Jonathan gives you a dark look before turning back down to his work. The bike trail curves from north to east, skirting the edge of the woods.

A dry, mercifully cool breeze wafts over you from out of the forest, but it doesn't last long.

>x beam
A piece of exercise equipment in the middle of a park-type area makes sense on paper, but here it seems somewhat out of place.

Jonathan's notebook is balanced on top of the wooden beam.

>x jonathan
You used to get along okay with Jonathan, until last March?the night of the talent show. Jonathan revealed that he had feelings for Jessica, and you swore eternal enmity against him.

You swore this privately, not to his face, but he seems to have gotten the idea.

"Hey, Jonathan." You try to make your voice drip with acid.

"Hey, Alec," he says back, in the same tone. Now it's on.

(1) Try to psych him out. 
(2) Criticize his art. 
(3) Find out if he's going to make a move on Jessica. 
(4) Stop wasting your time on him. 

>3
You have to do this delicately. You ask him: "Any big plans for the weekend?" He knows you mean with Jessica.

"Not really, other than this. How about you?" That snake?He's turned it around on you!

"Yeah, actually." Actually, you and Jessica don't have anything planned.

"Like what?" Real subtle, Jonathan.

"Just... Just hanging out."

Jonathan fixes you with an icy glare. Well, no, that's not an icy glare. What is that look?

You realize he's staring past you, and glance over your shoulder: There's nothing there.

(1) Try to psych him out. 
(2) Criticize his art. 
(3) Find out if he's going to make a move on Jessica. 
(4) Stop wasting your time on him. 

>3
You have to do this delicately. You ask him: "Any big plans for the weekend?" He knows you mean with Jessica.

"Not really, other than this. How about you?" That snake?He's turned it around on you!

"Yeah, actually." Actually, you and Jessica don't have anything planned.

"Like what?" Real subtle, Jonathan.

"Just... Just hanging out."

Jonathan fixes you with an icy glare. Well, no, that's not an icy glare. What is that look?

You realize he's staring past you, and glance over your shoulder: There's nothing there.

(1) Try to psych him out. 
(2) Criticize his art. 
(3) Find out if he's going to make a move on Jessica. 
(4) Stop wasting your time on him. 

>2
"That's quite the map you're drawing. Looks like a lot of work."

"Yeah, it's been... Well, we're all exhausted, I guess."

"You got that right," you chuckle. You aren't being very intimidating.

(1) Try to psych him out. 
(2) Criticize his art. 
(3) Find out if he's going to make a move on Jessica. 
(4) Stop wasting your time on him. 

>1
"You better finish up your entry," you tell him. "The judges will be coming around soon. To render judgment."

He doesn't blink. "I'm almost finished," he says. Well, that didn't work.

(1) Try to psych him out. 
(2) Criticize his art. 
(3) Find out if he's going to make a move on Jessica. 
(4) Stop wasting your time on him. 

>1
"You better finish up your entry," you tell him. "The judges will be coming around soon. To render judgment."

He doesn't blink. "I'm almost finished," he says. Well, that didn't work.

(1) Try to psych him out. 
(2) Criticize his art. 
(3) Find out if he's going to make a move on Jessica. 
(4) Stop wasting your time on him. 

>2
"That's quite the map you're drawing. Looks like a lot of work."

"Yeah, it's been... Well, we're all exhausted, I guess."

"You got that right," you chuckle. You aren't being very intimidating.

(1) Try to psych him out. 
(2) Criticize his art. 
(3) Find out if he's going to make a move on Jessica. 
(4) Stop wasting your time on him. 

>3
You have to do this delicately. You ask him: "Any big plans for the weekend?" He knows you mean with Jessica.

"Not really, other than this. How about you?" That snake?He's turned it around on you!

"Yeah, actually." Actually, you and Jessica don't have anything planned.

"Like what?" Real subtle, Jonathan.

"Just... Just hanging out."

Jonathan fixes you with an icy glare. Well, no, that's not an icy glare. What is that look?

You realize he's staring past you, and glance over your shoulder: There's nothing there.

(1) Try to psych him out. 
(2) Criticize his art. 
(3) Find out if he's going to make a move on Jessica. 
(4) Stop wasting your time on him. 

>4
"Well, I better get going," you say, and Jonathan nods. The tension is so thick, you can barely breathe.

>x art
Jonathan has drawn a hex grid over an island covered in snow and ice. What an idiot. Doesn't he realize it's going to melt before the event is over?

>x notebook
You can't see very well from where you're standing, but you can make out a sketch of a woman on the open page of the notebook. The idea makes your blood boil.

>put water on map
(the bucket of water on the island map)
It would be so easy to accidentally drop this bucket of water all over Jonathan's stupid chalk map. But Hina knows that you despise Jonathan, so she would know it wasn't really an accident.

You have the eerie sense that Hina has seen your entire mind?that she knows what you're thinking even as you think about her knowing what you're thinking. You need to think about something else.

>e
As you continue past Jonathan's drawing, you hear a voice behind you: Jerk.

You whirl around. "What did you just say?"

Jonathan looks up. "I didn't say anything."

"Are you sure?"

Jonathan blinks. "Um. Well, pretty sure, I guess."

>talk to honathan
That's not anything around here.

>talk to jon
"Hey, Jonathan." You try to make your voice drip with acid.

"Hey, Alec," he says back, in the same tone. Now it's on.

(1) Try to psych him out. 
(2) Criticize his art. 
(3) Find out if he's going to make a move on Jessica. 
(4) Call him out on calling you a jerk. 
(5) Stop wasting your time on him. 

>4
"I really thought I heard you say something."

"Well, I thought I heard something too, a minute ago. But I think it was an animal."

"Like a bird?"

"Maybe."

The two of you are silent for a moment.

(1) Try to psych him out. 
(2) Criticize his art. 
(3) Find out if he's going to make a move on Jessica. 
(4) Call him out on calling you a jerk. 
(5) Stop wasting your time on him. 

>4
"I really thought I heard you say something."

"Well, I thought I heard something too, a minute ago. But I think it was an animal."

"Like a bird?"

"Maybe."

The two of you are silent for a moment.

(1) Try to psych him out. 
(2) Criticize his art. 
(3) Find out if he's going to make a move on Jessica. 
(4) Call him out on calling you a jerk. 
(5) Stop wasting your time on him. 

>5
"Well, I better get going," you say, and Jonathan nods. The tension is so thick, you can barely breathe.

>e

Drinking Fountain
Faye is sitting uncomfortably in the grass across the trail from a drinking fountain. It looks like the sun has gotten the better of her, but her chalk art is finished: A lurid homage to The Nightmare Before Christmas.

The bike trail runs east and west between the woods and the outfield fence.

>x faye
Faye's sitting with her knees up by her chin and her arms around her legs. There's something haunted about her expression. But aren't you feeling haunted too? Everyone is. It's the human condition.

You walk up to Faye and wave. She winces a little, and you take a step back.

"No," she says weakly. "Please don't leave me, Alec."

(1) Ask her what's going on. 
(2) Tell her you'll be right back. 

>1
"What's wrong?"

"I don't know. Everybody's acting weird. And I'm acting weird. I feel like..." She looks down the path to the east. Xavier's art is down there?and Jessica's.

"You feel like what?"

"Something bad is gonna happen. Or something bad already happened."

(1) Ask her what's going on. 
(2) Tell her about Lane fainting. 
(3) Talk some sense into her. 
(4) Try to comfort her. 
(5) Tell her you'll be right back. 

>1
"What's wrong?"

"I don't know. Everybody's acting weird. And I'm acting weird. I feel like..." She looks down the path to the east. Xavier's art is down there?and Jessica's.

"You feel like what?"

"Something bad is gonna happen. Or something bad already happened."

(1) Ask her what's going on. 
(2) Tell her about Lane fainting. 
(3) Talk some sense into her. 
(4) Try to comfort her. 
(5) Tell her you'll be right back. 

>2
On second thought, that would probably just make Faye even more upset.

(1) Ask her what's going on. 
(2) Talk some sense into her. 
(3) Try to comfort her. 
(4) Tell her you'll be right back. 

>3
You put a hand on Faye's shoulder. It's awkward.

But you leave it there. "Let's calm down, okay? Take some deep breaths."

Faye tries to take a deep breath.

"Perfect. That's perfect. Are you feeling any better?"

She shakes her head. You never were any good at this kind of thing.

(1) Ask her what's going on. 
(2) Talk some sense into her. 
(3) Try to comfort her. 
(4) Tell her you'll be right back. 

>2
"Hey, I think the heat is getting to you. I'm not acting weird, am I?"

Faye squints at you.

"I guess not."

"And nothing bad is gonna happen. Hina's got everything under control."

She shakes her head. "No. Hina can't stop it."

"Can't stop what?"

But Faye doesn't know what.

(1) Ask her what's going on. 
(2) Talk some sense into her. 
(3) Try to comfort her. 
(4) Tell her you'll be right back. 

>3
You put a hand on Faye's shoulder. It's awkward.

But you leave it there. "Let's calm down, okay? Take some deep breaths."

Faye tries to take a deep breath.

"Perfect. That's perfect. Are you feeling any better?"

She shakes her head. You never were any good at this kind of thing.

(1) Ask her what's going on. 
(2) Talk some sense into her. 
(3) Try to comfort her. 
(4) Tell her you'll be right back. 

>4
"Look, Faye, I've got to handle a little errand for Hina right now. But I'll be right back, and we'll figure this out together."

"You won't," she says, but she doesn't try to stop you.

>x faye
Faye's sitting with her knees up by her chin and her arms around her legs. There's something haunted about her expression. But aren't you feeling haunted too? Everyone is. It's the human condition.

>l
Drinking Fountain
Faye is sitting uncomfortably in the grass across the trail from a drinking fountain. It looks like the sun has gotten the better of her, but her chalk art is finished: A lurid homage to The Nightmare Before Christmas.

The bike trail runs east and west between the woods and the outfield fence.

>x art
A grinning skeleton-man welcomes you to an undermedicated child's vision of Hell. Pop-eyed demons and insectoid vampires gambol under the jaundiced moon, in the black shadow of a gigantic coiling tentacle. The nightmare-things glow garish orange and green and red against the stygian dark of Halloween night.

You feel ill, and force yourself to look away.

>put water on art
(the bucket of water on the Nightmare Before Christmas drawing)
Something tells you the world would be better off if you washed away Faye's ghastly handiwork, but something else tells you Faye wouldn't see it that way.

>x tatoos
That's not anything around here.

>x tattoos
Faye's tattoos appear to be vibrating.

>x bike
The bike trail around the softball park is incredibly smooth and nice. Taking your bike up here is a real treat?when it isn't so hot out.

>x tattoos
Faye's tattoos appear to be vibrating.

>e

Bench
Jessica is sprawled across her field of flowers, sobbing softly.

The bucket falls from your grasp and you run to her, fall to her side, touch her cheek. What's wrong? Life is wrong, the world is wrong, our sorrow (which is the smallest portion of human misery) is too much to bear. We can't fix anything, we can't help anyone, we can only cling to each other and weep and cold water crawls over the pavement, sinking into our clothes.

Please press any key to continue.

§3

The idea is not that the world itself is merely an illusion. That's stupid. What's really going on is this: Reality is out there, obviously. But there's this veil of appearance that inhibits our ability to experience reality. When you manage to push through this veil, you'll realize that in fact reality is extremely real.

And you're almost there. You can feel the surface of the world melting away beneath your fingers.

0. THE CAVE
Ancient signatures painted on smooth, damp stone. Enormous machinery thrumming peacefully, blowing warm, wet wind over your face.

An engine screeches to life and breaks your concentration. There are people in here, talking over the fans, walking around like they own the place. They're getting into their cars and they're leaving. Why are they leaving?

EXITS: EAST

>* um are we in a Platonic allegory now?
That's not a verb I recognize.

>x me
You take a moment to focus. You point your attention inward. The flower of your ?tman opens itself to you.

You remember now. Your name is Nathalie.

>i
You are carrying:
  a plastic baggie

>x baggie
Inside the plastic baggie are seven little yellow pills.

>* oh geez
That's not a verb I recognize.

>x pills
Inside the plastic baggie are seven little yellow pills.

>eat pills
Oh, you've had plenty.

>* You don't say
That's not a verb I recognize.

>l
0. THE CAVE
The dimness and white noise were so relaxing, but now everybody's piling into their loud stupid cars and it's impossible to think in here.

EXITS: EAST

>x cars
You're surrounded by hundreds of cars, purring and growling, their eyes flashing. Mere nuisances. You won't let them get you.

>jump
You leap into the air, and for an infinite instant you are weightless.

>* woah
That's not a verb I recognize.

>listen
People are talking and talking and talking, and starting their cars, and you can hardly hear the fans. Your head is starting to hurt.

>lauch
That's not a verb I recognize.

>laugh
You rend the air with a high-pitched, sanguine guffaw.

>dance
That's not a verb I recognize.

>* Nice job here!
That's not a verb I recognize.

>cry
I didn't understand that sentence.

>moan
That's not a verb I recognize.

>talk
(the plastic baggie)
The plastic baggie turns out to be a great listener.

>* LOL
That's not a verb I recognize.

>l
0. THE CAVE
The dimness and white noise were so relaxing, but now everybody's piling into their loud stupid cars and it's impossible to think in here.

EXITS: EAST

>drop baggie
You're not just leaving that here.

>e

I. THE DELUGE
In a matter of seconds you are soaked. Your clothes cling to you like someone else's moist hands, and tingles of intense sensation ripple over your skin. You are supremely, ecstatically aware of your own hot, wet body.

But everybody's in a hurry hurry hurry to get inside the parking ramp. What for? It's just water, you guys. People are idiots.

EXITS: WEST EAST

Some sort of creature is shivering in an alcove, trying to keep dry.

>x rain
Rain is pounding against everything, slamming like rubber bullets into your skin. It's exhilarating.

>x clothes
You're not currently seeing whatever that is.

>x me
You take a moment to focus. You point your attention inward. The flower of your ?tman opens itself to you.

You remember now. Your name is Nathalie.

>x ramp
Hideous twisting concrete maze. A nice place to be alone for a while, as long as you can do it by yourself.

>x creature
The creature has a face you recognize. He sees someone he knows and waves.

He keeps waving and beckoning, more and more insistently, calling out something you can't hear over the rain.

Oh, he's waving at you!

>talk to creature
You skip through the puddles to join the creature in his damp alcove.

"I've been looking all over for you," he says. "I have orders to deliver you back to headquarters."

1 - This weather is gorgeous. 
2 - So who is this guy? 
3 - Why's everybody leaving? 
4 - What does he even want? 

>2
You lean in to inspect the candy-colored clown. He leans back. You know him from somewhere. A long time ago. He seemed kind of gross when you met him, and he hasn't done anything to change your opinion since.

Just because you're both aspects of the same universal consciousness doesn't mean you have to like him.

1 - This weather is gorgeous. 
2 - So who is this guy? 
3 - Why's everybody leaving? 
4 - What does he even want? 

>1
"It's amazing." You slick your hair back. "Don't you love it?"

"What are you talking about?"

He's not paying attention. "The rain."

"Oh. I guess I'd like it better if I was indoors. And wearing dry socks."

Of course he would. "Of course you would."

1 - This weather is gorgeous. 
2 - So who is this guy? 
3 - Why's everybody leaving? 
4 - What does he even want? 

>3
"Yeah, why is everybody leaving? I thought this was supposed to be fun times."

"Well, it's raining pretty hard."

"It's not raining that hard."

He rubs his forehead. He's thinking about something. He's about to say something.

He says: "Well, yes it is."

So stupid.

1 - This weather is gorgeous. 
2 - So who is this guy? 
3 - What does he even want? 

>3
"What are you here for?"

"I just said. Hina wants you to come back. They had a quick meeting while you were off doing whatever you were doing." You weren't even doing anything!

1 - They had a meeting without me? 
2 - I don't have to put up with this! 

>1
"What exactly did they decide behind my back?"

Alec starts to talk, then he stops himself, then he gives you a big fake smile. "You should probably hear it straight from Hina. Nobody tells me anything, you know?"

"They tell you more than they tell me."

He scoffs. "All they tell me is to tell you that they have something to tell you!"

You wince. This is giving you a headache.

1 - I don't have to put up with this! 

>1
"And I won't."

"What?"

"I won't go along with you. I won't comply with your orders. The Monomyth says that I have to refuse the call."

He sighs. "Okay, I'll go back and let them know you're... invoking the Monomyth. See you later."

He hops out of his hidey-hole and runs as fast as he can down the street.

Well, that's over.

>* Clearly
That's not a verb I recognize.

>l
I. THE DELUGE
Everybody's in a hurry hurry hurry to get inside the parking ramp. What for? It's just water, you guys. People are idiots.

EXITS: WEST EAST

>e

II. THE BEAST
He growls and curses and struggles mightily against his fetters, but it's hopeless. He cannot move. He will never escape. Bound so tightly with tension and anger, he approaches the state of rigor mortis.

EXITS: WEST NORTH

>x beast
A fanged monster of prodigious size is shackled in the middle of the street, his body melting away in the rain. He is glorious.

"Begone from me," the Beast growls, "Or I shall chomp thine head off! For I detest thee and all of mankind."

1 - How can he detest me? He doesn't even know me. 
2 - Why's he tied up like that? 
3 - Why is he melting? 

>3
You run your hand down the Beast's back. He is hard and grainy. He is made out of sand.

Sand is the highest form of sculpture, the truest test of artistic skill. It is doomed to destruction, therefore it is the loveliest of substances?for endurance is ugliness, and transience is beauty.

"Stop touching me," the Beast barks. But you go on petting him. He loves it.

1 - How can he detest me? He doesn't even know me. 
2 - Why's he tied up like that? 
3 - Why is he melting? 
4 - Poor thing. 

>1
"You don't really detest me, though, right?"

"I only know thee to be human," the Beast explains. "It was by human hands that I was given this abhorrent form?it is the humans' will that I must endure these agonies!"

1 - How can he detest me? He doesn't even know me. 
2 - I don't think he's that abhorrent. 
3 - It's not my fault people are awful. 
4 - Why's he tied up like that? 
5 - Why is he melting? 
6 - Poor thing. 

>1
"You don't really detest me, though, right?"

"I only know thee to be human," the Beast explains. "It was by human hands that I was given this abhorrent form?it is the humans' will that I must endure these agonies!"

1 - How can he detest me? He doesn't even know me. 
2 - I don't think he's that abhorrent. 
3 - It's not my fault people are awful. 
4 - Why's he tied up like that? 
5 - Why is he melting? 
6 - Poor thing. 

>2
"I think your form is fantastic."

The Beast blushes.

1 - How can he detest me? He doesn't even know me. 
2 - I don't think he's that abhorrent. 
3 - It's not my fault people are awful. 
4 - Why's he tied up like that? 
5 - Why is he melting? 
6 - Poor thing. 

>3
"Well, I had nothing to do with any of this," you say. (That's a lie; you had plenty to do with this.) "But I will reach out to those who did this to you. I will cause them to understand their stupidity."

"Thou must punish them!" The Beast writhes and gnashes.

"No. I will illuminate them."

He howls in protest. But what's he gonna do about it? He can't even move.

1 - How can he detest me? He doesn't even know me. 
2 - I don't think he's that abhorrent. 
3 - It's not my fault people are awful. 
4 - Why's he tied up like that? 
5 - Why is he melting? 
6 - Poor thing. 

>2
"I think your form is fantastic."

The Beast blushes.

1 - How can he detest me? He doesn't even know me. 
2 - I don't think he's that abhorrent. 
3 - It's not my fault people are awful. 
4 - Why's he tied up like that? 
5 - Why is he melting? 
6 - Poor thing. 

>4
"Who exactly put these chains on you?"

"My creators?Human college students. After they sculpted me into being, they saw that I was too powerful, that I would usurp and consume them! They enshackled me thus, and then they fled. Cowards!"

You nod. "Total cowards!"

1 - How can he detest me? He doesn't even know me. 
2 - I don't think he's that abhorrent. 
3 - It's not my fault people are awful. 
4 - Why's he tied up like that? 
5 - Why is he melting? 
6 - Poor thing. 

>5
You run your hand down the Beast's back. He is hard and grainy. He is made out of sand.

Sand is the highest form of sculpture, the truest test of artistic skill. It is doomed to destruction, therefore it is the loveliest of substances?for endurance is ugliness, and transience is beauty.

"Stop touching me," the Beast barks. But you go on petting him. He loves it.

1 - How can he detest me? He doesn't even know me. 
2 - I don't think he's that abhorrent. 
3 - It's not my fault people are awful. 
4 - Why's he tied up like that? 
5 - Why is he melting? 
6 - Poor thing. 

>6
You kneel down and scratch between his ears. "Is there anything I can do for you, big guy?"

The Beast softens. "No human has ever before shown me one mote of kindness. No, Nathalie, it is too late for me?I am doomed to return to elemental matter, to cease in my distinctness forevermore. But in thanks for thine tender attentions, I will spare thine life."

"Aww. Thanks, big guy." You rise from your knees.

Thunder rumbles.

>pet beast
You run your hand down the Beast's back. He is hard and grainy. He is made out of sand.

Sand is the highest form of sculpture, the truest test of artistic skill. It is doomed to destruction, therefore it is the loveliest of substances?for endurance is ugliness, and transience is beauty.

"Stop touching me," the Beast barks. But you go on petting him. He loves it.

>l
II. THE BEAST
He still growls and curses, and still struggles mightily against his fetters, but it's hopeless. He cannot move. He will never escape. Bound so tightly with tension and anger, he continues to approach the state of rigor mortis.

EXITS: WEST NORTH

>n

III. THE FORTRESS
A massive castle looms before you, its walls and towers barring further progress. How original.

EXITS: SOUTH NORTH

>x castle
A magnificent and well-crafted structure is the Fortress, with many intriguing details: The castle's herb garden is full of delicious edible plants from distant lands.

>x garden
The castle's herb garden is full of delicious edible plants from distant lands.

>x castle
A magnificent and well-crafted structure is the Fortress, with many intriguing details: The blacksmith's shop is the finest such establishment in the land.

>g
A magnificent and well-crafted structure is the Fortress, with many intriguing details: The west wall faces toward lands unknown.

>g
A magnificent and well-crafted structure is the Fortress, with many intriguing details: The blacksmith's shop is the finest such establishment in the land.

>g
A magnificent and well-crafted structure is the Fortress, with many intriguing details: The castle's herb garden is full of delicious edible plants from distant lands.

>g
A magnificent and well-crafted structure is the Fortress, with many intriguing details: The messengers of the northwest tower bear missives and watery cordials to the all various inhabitants of the Fortress.

>g
A magnificent and well-crafted structure is the Fortress, with many intriguing details: The castle's herb garden is full of delicious edible plants from distant lands.

>g
A magnificent and well-crafted structure is the Fortress, with many intriguing details: The north wall looks out over the dangerous lands beyond, where only seers and madmen travel.

>g
A magnificent and well-crafted structure is the Fortress, with many intriguing details: In his lair at the top of the tallest tower, the wizard looks over the rest of the fortress and records all that he sees.

>g
A magnificent and well-crafted structure is the Fortress, with many intriguing details: The east wall looks toward grim wastelands, toward ruins and boneyards.

>g
A magnificent and well-crafted structure is the Fortress, with many intriguing details: Myriad visitors from distant lands pass through the gatehouse of the Fortress, bearing handicrafts and spices and unbelievable tales and wines and fine silks and salted meats.

>g
A magnificent and well-crafted structure is the Fortress, with many intriguing details: The well-kept festival grounds are the theater of the many celebrations and tournaments that draw so many visitors to the Fortress.

>g
A magnificent and well-crafted structure is the Fortress, with many intriguing details: The messengers of the northwest tower bear missives and watery cordials to the all various inhabitants of the Fortress.

>g
A magnificent and well-crafted structure is the Fortress, with many intriguing details: The west wall faces toward lands unknown.

>g
A magnificent and well-crafted structure is the Fortress, with many intriguing details: The castle's famous tavern is the Oat and Frog, where unbelievable tales are swapped and watery cordials are imbibed to melodies sung by bards from distant lands.

>n
You can't go any further: The Fortress stands in your path.

>l
III. THE FORTRESS
A massive castle looms before you, its walls and towers barring further progress.

EXITS: SOUTH NORTH

>n
You can't go any further: The Fortress stands in your path.

>open door
You're not currently seeing whatever that is.

>break fortress
You stomp on the southeast tower, reducing it to a pile of sand.

>* I'm a schmuck
That's not a verb I recognize.

>n
You can't go any further: The Fortress stands in your path.

>* I'm a schmuck
That's not a verb I recognize.

>break fortress
You bring your fist down on the south wall. It crumbles immediately.

>break fortress
You kick the gatehouse, splattering it across the street.

>g
You smush the southwest tower into rubble.

>g
You destroy the flimsy blacksmith's shop with a single kick.

People passing by seem to think you're doing something wrong. They clearly don't understand how important it is for you to get through this castle.

>g
You rip out a big chunk of the east wall and toss it down the road.

>g
You push the stables into the ground: Now it's just wet sand.

>g
You pummel the wizard's tower into dust.

>g
You jump up and down on the festival grounds.

At last, you've cleared a path through to the rest of the street.

>g
You wipe your hand across the turf maze and flatten it.

>g
You stomp the herb garden out of existence.

>g
You topple the west wall with the merest effort.

>g
You slam the replica Globe Theater with both fists; it falls apart easily.

The Fortress is now only a pathetic ruin.

>* Oh man
That's not a verb I recognize.

>break fortress
You kick the northwest tower. Sand flies everywhere.

>g
You push gently against the northwest tower, and it topples like a house of cards.

>g
You smash the Oat and Frog tavern beneath your palm.

>g
You stomp on the north wall, crumbling it to nothing.

Now, nothing of the castle remains.

>g
You're not currently seeing whatever that is.

>g
You're not currently seeing whatever that is.

>l
III. THE FORTRESS
You stand upon a shapeless wasteland of sand.

EXITS: SOUTH NORTH

>x sand
The Fortress has fallen.

>* look on my works ye mighty, and despair
You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom.

>n

IV. ERUPTION
Liquid fire pours out from the smoking crater, down the mountainside, toward the doomed village. It's too late to escape, too late to rescue anybody. Everything is melting. 

EXITS: SOUTH WEST

>* Alas!
That's not a verb I recognize.

>x crater
The volcano rises high; its plume of smoke blots out the sky. Madame Pele shapes the earth according to her whim, and to erect a settlement in the shadow of her mountain is to put oneself at her mercy.

Lightning arcs across the clouds of ash, and thunder makes the pavement shake beneath you.

>x village
A few simple homes remain out of the lava's path for now, but before long, the entire village will be a smoking ruin.

"It's a shame," someone says as they hurry by. "All that hard work will be washed away." But that person doesn't understand properly: IV. ERUPTION doesn't necessarily symbolize a complete disaster: Just a drastic change, a threat to the status quo. And that's often a positive thing.

Actually, the status quo is famously terrible, so it follows that change is always good.

>* I mean, in retrospect the 2011 status quo was pretty great...
You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom.

>x houses
You're not currently seeing whatever that is.

>l
IV. ERUPTION
Liquid fire pours out from the smoking crater, down the mountainside, toward the doomed village. It's too late to escape, too late to rescue anybody. Everything is melting. 

EXITS: SOUTH WEST

>take village
You can't take that with you.

>x lava
Fire is bubbling up from the earth, fire is raining from the sky, melting everything it touches. All is lost.

Oh?but you'll be fine.

>lick it
You feel the texture of the lava against your lips, and you begin to salivate.

>eat it
You feel the texture of the lava against your lips, and you begin to salivate.

>* weird
That's not a verb I recognize.

>take lava
You can't take that with you.

>lick village
You feel the texture of the village against your lips, and you begin to salivate.

>* OK we do that for everything
That's not a verb I recognize.

>* Must be a side effect
That's not a verb I recognize.

>l
IV. ERUPTION
Liquid fire pours out from the smoking crater, down the mountainside, toward the doomed village. It's too late to escape, too late to rescue anybody. Everything is melting. 

EXITS: SOUTH WEST

>w

V. THE THRONE
Papa is seated in majesty on his golden Throne, surrounded by a golden cord and a veil of black curtains.

EXITS: EAST WEST

>x papa
Papa is dressed in his purple vestments and skullcap, his frilly white skirt. His pince-nez is smashed into his forehead. His tiny teeth shine like wet pebbles in his gaping mouth. He is screaming.

Papa's mouth is split wide in a piercing, infinite scream.

"Hey!" you yell, loud enough that he should be able to hear you. But he doesn't react.

1 - Man, I hate this guy. 
2 - What's he screaming about? 
3 - He's not worth your time. 

>2
Who cares?

You yell at Papa to shut up. You yell at him again. He has no reply, except additional screaming. You're ready to start screaming yourself?but that would be stooping to his level.

Life is full of little lessons like this, if you bother to look for them. You have to pay attention to yourself. You have to open yourself up to what yourself is trying to tell you.

1 - Man, I hate this guy. 
2 - What's he screaming about? 
3 - He's not worth your time. 

>1
You are so sick and tired of this guy and his whole deal. This is really ruining your afternoon.

1 - Man, I hate this guy. 
2 - What's he screaming about? 
3 - He's not worth your time. 

>3
"Exactly! Your authority is meaningless. Authority is a false structure." You've been gnawing on this bone for a while. "I don't have to respect you?I don't even have to acknowledge you!"

Papa screams in response.

1 - Yeah, leave him alone. 
2 - No, he needs to have this explained to him. 

>2
He does need to have this explained to him, and you're the perfect person to explain it. "Authority is a social construct, which means, we all have to agree that you possess authority, or you don't possess it."

Papa goes on screaming, either in impotent protest or in feigned confusion.

"Forget it. You'll never understand." Yeah. He'll never understand.

>x papa
Papa is dressed in his purple vestments and skullcap, his frilly white skirt. His pince-nez is smashed into his forehead. His tiny teeth shine like wet pebbles in his gaping mouth. He is screaming.

>x teeth
Papa's mouth is a deep black hole, ringed with too many teeth.

>take them
You can't see 'them' (nothing) at the moment.

>take teeth
That seems to be a part of Papa.

>* indeed
That's not a verb I recognize.

>x vestments
Papa's cape (or whatever it is) is surmounted by a high collar that looks like it's about to slice off his head.

>x skullcap
What a goofy little hat.

>take vestments
You want nothing to do with Papa's grody regalia.

>l
V. THE THRONE
Papa is seated in majesty on his golden Throne, surrounded by a golden cord and a veil of black curtains.

EXITS: EAST WEST

>x cord
This velvet rope of gold is a false barrier: The rules don't apply to you. You aren't responsible for your actions.

>x papa
Papa is dressed in his purple vestments and skullcap, his frilly white skirt. His pince-nez is smashed into his forehead. His tiny teeth shine like wet pebbles in his gaping mouth. He is screaming.

>x pince-nex
You're not currently seeing whatever that is.

>x pince-nez
(This scene is Francis Bacon's Study after Velázquez's Portrait of Pope Innocent X. The pince-nez comes from an image in the film The Battleship Potemkin that Bacon was obsessed with.)

>* good to know
That's not a verb I recognize.

>l
V. THE THRONE
Papa is seated in majesty on his golden Throne, surrounded by a golden cord and a veil of black curtains.

EXITS: EAST WEST

>x curtains
Black drapery falls all around, obscuring the distant world and bringing what is near into ghastly clarity.

>pull curtains
You give the veil of black curtains a playful shove.

>take cord
Well, being a false barrier, a mere invention, the cord only exists in your mind. So you can't really do anything with it.

>cut cord
Well, being a false barrier, a mere invention, the cord only exists in your mind. So you can't really do anything with it.

>l
V. THE THRONE
Papa is seated in majesty on his golden Throne, surrounded by a golden cord and a veil of black curtains.

EXITS: EAST WEST

>w

VI. THE WRECKED SHIP
Light plays strangely on the broken planks and spars littering the ocean floor. The shattered hull is rotting all around you. 

At your feet, a skeletal sailor grins idiotically in a siren's embrace. 

EXITS: EAST NORTH

>x planks
Pointy bits of wreckage are all over the place, spoiling the desert-like smoothness of the ocean floor.

>x spars
Pointy bits of wreckage are all over the place, spoiling the desert-like smoothness of the ocean floor.

>x hull
What brought this hulk to rest here? What doomed this sailor? Was it this mermaid? Probably. Is that a sexist assumption?

>x mermaid
A curvaceous mermaid: Long of hair, smooth of cheek, pert of nose. Her eyes are cast down lovingly at her skeleton friend, and her serpentine tail is coiled into a pillow where he can rest his skull.

The siren's pet shark is lurking nearby, ready to attack any intruders.

>x shark
A dog-sized shark is skirting the area, looking out for trespassers. But it hasn't noticed you.

>x skeleton
The sailor is smiling, even as his bones erode in the warm ocean currents. A slimy tentacle is wrapped around one of his legs. This moron is so, so pleased that a girl is finally paying attention to him. He doesn't even care that he's dead.

>x tentacle
Twisted around the sailor's bony leg is a tentacle, reaching up from somewhere beneath the sea floor. It is disgusting.

>pull it
You rake your fingers across the moist tentacle and its hideous suckers. You despise this creature. So you punch it down into the ground until it's just a pile of sand.

>* eek
That's not a verb I recognize.

>l
VI. THE WRECKED SHIP
Light plays strangely on the broken planks and spars littering the ocean floor. The shattered hull is rotting all around you. 

At your feet, a skeletal sailor grins idiotically in a siren's embrace. 

EXITS: EAST NORTH

>n

VII. THE GATE
The warm rain is gone. Now frigid air conditioning flows over you, and you shiver like one near death.

The vestibule of the Honors Center is a liminal space, not quite within or without. Nothing good ever happens in liminal spaces.

EXITS: SOUTH

Oh. Hina is here.

>x hina
Hina is almost as soaked as you are. And although she always looks serious, and often looks angry, you've never seen her as serious or as angry as she is now. Demonic flames are burning in her eyes. And she is stomping straight at you.

"Where in the heck have you been?" she snarls.

1 - Well, you can't tell her you were getting high in the parking ramp. 
2 - Oh no she already knows. 
3 - She does not. Calm down. 
4 - No, look how angry she is! She definitely knows! 
5 - She has no idea. Just act normal, and she won't be able to tell. 

>5
"I was taking a little break."

"You were gone for like two hours."

"Huh! I guess I lost track of time." Very normal response. You're doing great.

Hina's forehead-wrinkle puckers. "It's your sand sculpture contest. I would expect you to take some responsibility for it."

"I took plenty of responsibility for it! That's why I needed a break!"

"Well, while you were taking your break, the rest of the Arts Committee talked it over, and we don't think we should do sand sculpture again next year."

1 - They can't do that! 
2 - They can't cancel my event without consulting me. 
3 - Just because it rained? 
4 - I'll complain to the faculty advisor. 
5 - What was her name again? 

>3
"You understand that it's not going to rain like this next year, right?"

"It's not about the weather. We all agreed that sand sculpture was too expensive and dangerous. Somebody got cut with a shovel pretty bad."

"You gave up because one guy had an accident?"

"No." She steels herself. "We also heard from a lot of participants that it was too much work. Shoveling all that sand and pouring all that water is really exhausting. And it's supposed to be fun."

A sudden peal of thunder punctuates Hina's treachery.

1 - It IS fun. 
2 - These people are just too stupid and lazy to appreciate it. 
3 - What are they going to do instead? Finger painting? 
4 - Well, they can do it without me. 

>3
"So what are you going to do next year? Finger painting? Sidewalk chalk?"

Hina pauses. "Finger painting sounds kind of cool, actually."

You try hard not to scream.

"This is supposed to be an honors program! We're supposed to hold up a higher standard than the rest of these idiots. We're supposed to be elevating people's consciousness!"

Hina looks at you carefully. She's examining your eyes. Uh oh.

"Nathalie, are you feeling okay?"

1 - She knows! 
2 - She's gonna report you! 
3 - There's still time to deny it. 
4 - No, just own up to it. 

>* parenthetically, is it the case that college honors programs a) exist, and b)...
(You'll have to pick a number from 1 to 4.)

>* put on contests like this?  Seems odd but I dunno
(You'll have to pick a number from 1 to 4.)

>3
"I wasn't doing anything!"

"I didn't ask if you were doing anything."

She's got you there. "Look, I was just taking some of these." You pull out your baggie. "Just to relax. It's not a big deal. But don't tell anyone."

Hina examines the pills. Hey, why are there only two left?

"Is this episcophacetin?" she asks. You roll your eyes. Nobody calls it that.

The outside door of the vestibule opens, and Alec blusters in. "Hey, Hina!" he says cheerily. "Look, I found Nathalie!"

Please press any key to continue.

Your rate for destroying artwork is 62.10%.

§4

In eternal Winter's grasp rests icy Cealdhame, where was raised snow-heavy Byringsburh, throne of Careþ, bearer of the Pallid Crown. Long has Careþ reigned in peace; long have his enemies waited to rise up in war against him. Episcophacetin, commonly known as joan[1] or klasvak[citation needed], is a psychoactive drug primarily used for recreational purposes. Its effects include altered perceptions and sensory hallucinations[2], often accompanied by intense changes in mood such as euphoria, depression, or paranoia.[3]

>* episcophacetine is a good joke!
That's not a verb I recognize.

>footnote 1
You never bothered to check any of the citations.

>* oh man that's a great gag
That's not a verb I recognize.

>* should I be concerned that I can't refer to Care-thingy?
That's not a verb I recognize.

>* oh wait, can just copy and paste: Careþ
You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom.

>x Careþ
You can't see that here. Or maybe this is a problem with those weird letters. Try thinking about it without using any weird letters.

>* well played
That's not a verb I recognize.

>x carep
Weirdly, you are unable to get a good look at wise King Careþ.

>x careb
Something about your perspective is making it impossible to fully understand wise King Careþ.

>x me
You are a point in two-dimensional space. The original plan was that you would be in charge of a sidewalk chalk tournament. Now, you wander alone over the frostbound kingdom of Cealdhame, seeking respite from the bitter cold. Your face hurts.

>x cealdhame
Cealdhame is all around you.

>i
You are carrying nothing.

>l
In eternal Winter's grasp rests icy Cealdhame, where was raised snow-heavy Byringsburh, throne of Careþ, bearer of the Pallid Crown. Long has Careþ reigned in peace; long have his enemies waited to rise up in war against him. Episcophacetin is usually consumed orally in tablet form. It is also dissolved in water to counteract its dehydrating properties;[12] however, continued ingestion of episcophacetin-laced water has been shown to increase the likelihood of syncope (fainting),[13] hyponatremia,[14] and other possibly life-threatening side effects.[15][16][17][18]

>x throne
You can't see that here. Or maybe this is a problem with those weird letters. Try thinking about it without using any weird letters.

>* ruh roh
That's not a verb I recognize.

>undo
Cealdhame
[Previous turn undone.]

>undo
Cealdhame
[Previous turn undone.]

>undo
Cealdhame
[Previous turn undone.]

>undo
Cealdhame
[Previous turn undone.]

>undo
Cealdhame
[Previous turn undone.]

>undo
Cealdhame
[Previous turn undone.]

>l
In eternal Winter's grasp rests icy Cealdhame, where was raised snow-heavy Byringsburh, throne of Careþ, bearer of the Pallid Crown. Long has Careþ reigned in peace; long have his enemies waited to rise up in war against him. Episcophacetin is usually consumed orally in tablet form. It is also dissolved in water to counteract its dehydrating properties;[12] however, continued ingestion of episcophacetin-laced water has been shown to increase the likelihood of syncope (fainting),[13] hyponatremia,[14] and other possibly life-threatening side effects.[15][16][17][18]

>undo
Cealdhame
[Previous turn undone.]

>undo
Cealdhame
[Previous turn undone.]

>undo
Cealdhame
[Previous turn undone.]

>undo
Cealdhame
[Previous turn undone.]

>undo
Cealdhame
[Previous turn undone.]

>undo
Cealdhame
[Previous turn undone.]

>undo
Cealdhame
[Previous turn undone.]

>undo
Cealdhame
[Previous turn undone.]

>undo
Cealdhame
[Previous turn undone.]

>undo
Cealdhame
[Previous turn undone.]

>undo
VII. THE GATE
[Previous turn undone.]

>l
VII. THE GATE
The warm rain is gone. Now frigid air conditioning flows over you, and you shiver like one near death.

The vestibule of the Honors Center is a liminal space, not quite within or without. Nothing good ever happens in liminal spaces.

EXITS: SOUTH

Oh. Hina is here.

>x hina
Hina is almost as soaked as you are. And although she always looks serious, and often looks angry, you've never seen her as serious or as angry as she is now. Demonic flames are burning in her eyes. And she is stomping straight at you.

"Where in the heck have you been?" she snarls.

1 - Well, you can't tell her you were getting high in the parking ramp. 
2 - Oh no she already knows. 
3 - She does not. Calm down. 
4 - No, look how angry she is! She definitely knows! 
5 - She has no idea. Just act normal, and she won't be able to tell. 

>5
"I was taking a little break."

"You were gone for like two hours."

"Huh! I guess I lost track of time." Very normal response. You're doing great.

Hina's forehead-wrinkle puckers. "It's your sand sculpture contest. I would expect you to take some responsibility for it."

"I took plenty of responsibility for it! That's why I needed a break!"

"Well, while you were taking your break, the rest of the Arts Committee talked it over, and we don't think we should do sand sculpture again next year."

1 - They can't do that! 
2 - They can't cancel my event without consulting me. 
3 - Just because it rained? 
4 - I'll complain to the faculty advisor. 
5 - What was her name again? 

>5
"What's our faculty advisor's name?"

Hina blinks. "Shelly?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna go talk to her about this."

"We already talked to her. She said the same as everyone else did. We all agreed that sand sculpture was too expensive and dangerous. Somebody got cut with a shovel pretty bad."

"You gave up because one guy had an accident?"

"No." She steels herself. "We also heard from a lot of participants that it was too much work. Shoveling all that sand and pouring all that water is really exhausting. And it's supposed to be fun."

A sudden peal of thunder punctuates Hina's treachery.

1 - It IS fun. 
2 - These people are just too stupid and lazy to appreciate it. 
3 - What are they going to do instead? Finger painting? 
4 - Well, they can do it without me. 

>3
"So what are you going to do next year? Finger painting? Sidewalk chalk?"

Hina pauses. "Finger painting sounds kind of cool, actually."

You try hard not to scream.

"This is supposed to be an honors program! We're supposed to hold up a higher standard than the rest of these idiots. We're supposed to be elevating people's consciousness!"

Hina looks at you carefully. She's examining your eyes. Uh oh.

"Nathalie, are you feeling okay?"

1 - She knows! 
2 - She's gonna report you! 
3 - There's still time to deny it. 
4 - No, just own up to it. 

>3
"I wasn't doing anything!"

"I didn't ask if you were doing anything."

She's got you there. "Look, I was just taking some of these." You pull out your baggie. "Just to relax. It's not a big deal. But don't tell anyone."

Hina examines the pills. Hey, why are there only two left?

"Is this episcophacetin?" she asks. You roll your eyes. Nobody calls it that.

The outside door of the vestibule opens, and Alec blusters in. "Hey, Hina!" he says cheerily. "Look, I found Nathalie!"

Please press any key to continue.

Your rate for destroying artwork is 62.10%.

§4

In eternal Winter's grasp rests icy Cealdhame, where was raised snow-heavy Byringsburh, throne of Careþ, bearer of the Pallid Crown. Long has Careþ reigned in peace; long have his enemies waited to rise up in war against him. Episcophacetin, commonly known as joan[1] or klasvak[citation needed], is a psychoactive drug primarily used for recreational purposes. Its effects include altered perceptions and sensory hallucinations[2], often accompanied by intense changes in mood such as euphoria, depression, or paranoia.[3]

>l
In eternal Winter's grasp rests icy Cealdhame, where was raised snow-heavy Byringsburh, throne of Careþ, bearer of the Pallid Crown. Long has Careþ reigned in peace; long have his enemies waited to rise up in war against him. Episcophacetin is usually consumed orally in tablet form. It is also dissolved in water to counteract its dehydrating properties;[12] however, continued ingestion of episcophacetin-laced water has been shown to increase the likelihood of syncope (fainting),[13] hyponatremia,[14] and other possibly life-threatening side effects.[15][16][17][18]

>* OK, didn't miss anything
You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom.

>x crown
Weirdly, you are unable to get a good look at the Pallid Crown.

>* that is weird!
That's not a verb I recognize.

>z
Time passes.

>l
In eternal Winter's grasp rests icy Cealdhame, where was raised snow-heavy Byringsburh, throne of Careþ, bearer of the Pallid Crown. Long has Careþ reigned in peace; long have his enemies waited to rise up in war against him. Although it lacks the electrolytes necessary to restore sodium concentration, drinking unadulterated water has been shown to reduce the hallucinogenic effects of episcophacetin[19][20][21] as well as treat dehydration.[citation needed]

>l
In eternal Winter's grasp rests icy Cealdhame, where was raised snow-heavy Byringsburh, throne of Careþ, bearer of the Pallid Crown. Long has Careþ reigned in peace; long have his enemies waited to rise up in war against him. Your head hurts.

>x head
You can't see that here. Or maybe this is a problem with those weird letters. Try thinking about it without using any weird letters.

>drink water
You can't see that here. Or maybe this is a problem with those weird letters. Try thinking about it without using any weird letters.

>l
In eternal Winter's grasp rests icy Cealdhame, where was raised snow-heavy Byringsburh, throne of Careþ, bearer of the Pallid Crown. Long has Careþ reigned in peace; long have his enemies waited to rise up in war against him. Episcophacetin is a chiral compound and is produced as a racemic mixture. Differences in kinetics have been noted between the two enantiomers,[97] with the R-enantiomer having a shorter elimination half-life and greater excretion than the S-enantiomer.

>* better hope we have the R-version
That's not a verb I recognize.

>l
In eternal Winter's grasp rests icy Cealdhame, where was raised snow-heavy Byringsburh, throne of Careþ, bearer of the Pallid Crown. Long has Careþ reigned in peace; long have his enemies waited to rise up in war against him. Your face is sore.

>l
In eternal Winter's grasp rests icy Cealdhame, where was raised snow-heavy Byringsburh, throne of Careþ, bearer of the Pallid Crown. Long has Careþ reigned in peace; long have his enemies waited to rise up in war against him. There are several methods for synthesizing episcophacetin via various intermediates.[108][109][110][111] The original synthesis described by Hamano (1989) involves brominating cariadol to dimethylpyrimidinol bisulfite and then reacting this adduct with trimethylamine.[112][113] 

>x face
You can't see that here. Or maybe this is a problem with those weird letters. Try thinking about it without using any weird letters.

>l
In eternal Winter's grasp rests icy Cealdhame, where was raised snow-heavy Byringsburh, throne of Careþ, bearer of the Pallid Crown. Long has Careþ reigned in peace; long have his enemies waited to rise up in war against him. Episcophacetin is known to be metabolized by two main metabolic pathways: (1) O-demethylenation followed by catechol-O-methyltransferase (COMT)-catalyzed methylation and/or glucuronide/sulfate conjugation; and (2) N-dealkylation, deamination, and oxidation to the corresponding benzoic acid derivatives conjugated with glycine.[82]

>l
In eternal Winter's grasp rests icy Cealdhame, where was raised snow-heavy Byringsburh, throne of Careþ, bearer of the Pallid Crown. Long has Careþ reigned in peace; long have his enemies waited to rise up in war against him. You need to find a way out of here.

>l
In eternal Winter's grasp rests icy Cealdhame, where was raised snow-heavy Byringsburh, throne of Careþ, bearer of the Pallid Crown. Long has Careþ reigned in peace; long have his enemies waited to rise up in war against him. The activity of episcophacetin is similar to that of other psychedelic agents.[43] It is an agonist,[44] binding to and activating the serotonin 5-HT2A receptor with a high affinity.[45] The way in which activating the 5-HT2A receptor gives rise to psychedelic phenomena is still unexplained, but it is likely that it somehow involves excitation of neurons in the prefrontal cortex.[46]

>* prefrontal cortex is where the party is
That's not a verb I recognize.

>l
In eternal Winter's grasp rests icy Cealdhame, where was raised snow-heavy Byringsburh, throne of Careþ, bearer of the Pallid Crown. Long has Careþ reigned in peace; long have his enemies waited to rise up in war against him. A controlled study was undertaken to determine the stability of episcophacetin in urine samples.[85] The concentrations of episcophacetin in urine samples were tracked over time at various temperatures, in various types of storage containers, at different exposures to different wavelengths of light, and at an array of different pH values. These studies demonstrated no significant loss in episcophacetin concentration at 25°C for up to four weeks.

That's all you can remember.

>* I mean for real, I had a neuro major friend in college big into drugs
You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom.

>* So this is resonating quite strongly
That's not a verb I recognize.

>* more into cacti than pills, though, which on the evidence of this game...
You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom.

>* likely was for the best
That's not a verb I recognize.

>* wait I'm just catching up on my reading, four weeks???
You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom.

>* guess we'll be seeing bishops all month
That's not a verb I recognize.

>x me
You are a point in two-dimensional space. The original plan was that you would be in charge of a sidewalk chalk tournament. Now, you wander alone over the frostbound kingdom of Cealdhame, seeking respite from the bitter cold. Your face hurts.

>x face
You can't see that here. Or maybe this is a problem with those weird letters. Try thinking about it without using any weird letters.

>i
You are carrying nothing.

>l
In eternal Winter's grasp rests icy Cealdhame, where was raised snow-heavy Byringsburh, throne of Careþ, bearer of the Pallid Crown. Long has Careþ reigned in peace; long have his enemies waited to rise up in war against him. 

>l
In eternal Winter's grasp rests icy Cealdhame, where was raised snow-heavy Byringsburh, throne of Careþ, bearer of the Pallid Crown. Long has Careþ reigned in peace; long have his enemies waited to rise up in war against him. 

>l
In eternal Winter's grasp rests icy Cealdhame, where was raised snow-heavy Byringsburh, throne of Careþ, bearer of the Pallid Crown. Long has Careþ reigned in peace; long have his enemies waited to rise up in war against him. 

>e
The swordwright of Brydblæd and Geoldrecce in the snow-lapped valley Milcas dwelt; Ðeldere she was known by men, well-thought-of by war-makers. 

>x swordwright
Something about your perspective is making it impossible to fully understand the swordwright Ðeldere.

>talk to her
You can't see 'her' (nothing) at the moment.

>talk to deldere
Trying to get a handle on the swordwright Ðeldere is making your head hurt even worse.

>touch deldere
You can't figure out how to manipulate or even directly observe the swordwright Ðeldere. Something about this situation is messed up.

>u
Six are the directions permitted in Cealdhame: Northeast, east, southeast, southwest, west, and northwest are these, and no others.

>* woah
That's not a verb I recognize.

>n
Six are the directions permitted in Cealdhame: Northeast, east, southeast, southwest, west, and northwest are these, and no others.

>s
Six are the directions permitted in Cealdhame: Northeast, east, southeast, southwest, west, and northwest are these, and no others.

>ne
In the ice-caves of Nemind creeps the ice-bat Ge?arcain, sovereign of vermin. Five are the wives of Ge?arcain: Beresceon the Jealous, Nepeþ the Wicked, As?ealt the Moist, Ecgemarc the Clinging, and Helabreoc the Furious. 

>* I mean Aspealt seems like the best one?
That's not a verb I recognize.

>* Maybe Ecgemarch if you're feeling cuddle
That's not a verb I recognize.

>ne
In Derdryng was raised a shrine to the war-saint Bleoc, who felled Seaxcrys, daughter of Fargol. With evil fire Hyrece, son of Seaxcrys, burned the shrine of Bleoc and laid it low; then ?arg, son of Bleoc, built the shrine once more, and then slew Hyrece, and then wisely slew Ennise, daughter of Hyrece. 

>se
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>nah
Please answer yes or no.> no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>* wait I changed my answer!
That's not a verb I recognize.

>undo
Cealdhame
[Previous turn undone.]

>undo
Cealdhame
[Previous turn undone.]

>save
Ok.

>ne
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>nw
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>s
Six are the directions permitted in Cealdhame: Northeast, east, southeast, southwest, west, and northwest are these, and no others.

>sw
In the ice-caves of Nemind creeps the ice-bat Ge?arcain, sovereign of vermin. Five are the wives of Ge?arcain: Beresceon the Jealous, Nepeþ the Wicked, As?ealt the Moist, Ecgemarc the Clinging, and Helabreoc the Furious. 

>sw
The swordwright of Brydblæd and Geoldrecce in the snow-lapped valley Milcas dwelt; Ðeldere she was known by men, well-thought-of by war-makers. 

>sw
Deep in the ?ylcwood stand the nine Æþincstones, snow-clothed, unremembered by men. In the days of the frost-wenches was a merriment danced round the henges, weaving and warping did they dance, to forge the braided glimmer of the Crown of Bronze. 

>* was the bronze especially pale?
That's not a verb I recognize.

>w
Stendrard was slain by high marshal Crongferþ for want of Nipsende's breast-coffin; here his corpse-grave of death-cold alp-stone lay snow-locked these four thousand years. 

>e
Deep in the ?ylcwood stand the nine Æþincstones, snow-clothed, unremembered by men. In the days of the frost-wenches was a merriment danced round the henges, weaving and warping did they dance, to forge the braided glimmer of the Crown of Bronze. 

>e
Upon the eastern shore of Cealdhame stands the village Tyþing, merriment of mead-drinkers; here Dragard and Heort?ic dwell, forgers of the rose-axe Felorcrys and the wind-helm Bytrende. 

>e
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>s
Six are the directions permitted in Cealdhame: Northeast, east, southeast, southwest, west, and northwest are these, and no others.

>se
The skald Ðatsal makes his home upon the cliffs of Þerys, and sings his war-songs and love-odes to the tall waves that befoam the white rocks of Cealdhame. 

>se
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>n
Six are the directions permitted in Cealdhame: Northeast, east, southeast, southwest, west, and northwest are these, and no others.

>ne
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>e
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>se
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>sw
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>w
Over the plain of Greoc wanders the spirit Lecgeðor, ghost of Norghelt, slain by the hell-steed Reosycge, ridden by Ygnared, vassal of Cærfec. 

>w
The fortress Cynebrand is Hebryn's home, fastness of stone, where wedding was made twixt she and Nagol the sea-sailor, murderer of Mundræd. On Hebryn's arm rests Hlutorbeg, famed silver-ring, by stone-elves wrought. She who wears that bracelet fears no poison, nor snake-sting, nor spider-bite, nor cranhwal-tongue. 

>w
The fellswan Hisc builds her nest on Geord?æl; not pleasant is that beach of Cealdhame! From Geord?æl flies Hisc in search of children and weaklings; these she bears in her tooth-beak through cold air-breezes to Geord?æl, and chews and swallows, and vomits up to feed her fellcygnets. 

>w
The cursed forest of Scecgewood, dark hiding-place of Cleo?ðric the wart-giver. Nagol slew Cleo?ðric, as did Esenhart, and Tarsc?if too dealt to fell Cleo?ðric death; yet Cleo?ðric ever returns, to give warts to unlucky men. 

>w
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>nw
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>ne
Deep Unfyl?isc, the Lake of Weeping, whereinto Queen Friþ cast her unwanted infant ?æslic. ?æslic was by lake-otters weaned, and wears now the white breastplate of the lake otters' lord; no great grudge bears he against his birthing-mother. 

>w
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>e
Stendrard was slain by high marshal Crongferþ for want of Nipsende's breast-coffin; here his corpse-grave of death-cold alp-stone lay snow-locked these four thousand years. 

>e
Deep in the ?ylcwood stand the nine Æþincstones, snow-clothed, unremembered by men. In the days of the frost-wenches was a merriment danced round the henges, weaving and warping did they dance, to forge the braided glimmer of the Crown of Bronze. 

>e
Upon the eastern shore of Cealdhame stands the village Tyþing, merriment of mead-drinkers; here Dragard and Heort?ic dwell, forgers of the rose-axe Felorcrys and the wind-helm Bytrende. 

>e
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>ne
Oflec raised this þryng-stone when Rorcas was crown-bearer; beneath the þryng-stone was Oflec crushed when Rorcas was by Nagol slain. 

>e
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>w
The swordwright of Brydblæd and Geoldrecce in the snow-lapped valley Milcas dwelt; Ðeldere she was known by men, well-thought-of by war-makers. 

>w
In eternal Winter's grasp rests icy Cealdhame, where was raised snow-heavy Byringsburh, throne of Careþ, bearer of the Pallid Crown. Long has Careþ reigned in peace; long have his enemies waited to rise up in war against him. 

>w
The frozen swamp of Ylrecnæs, where the Mer-Witch Agaþe in her branch-hive composes her awful curses upon the princess of Cealdhame, favorite daughter of Careþ, love-wife of Nagol. 

>w
Beneath the tall grave-hills of Æbrings?al rest thirty fallen kings and queens of Cealdhame, their white skeletons locked in stout corpse-chests. Not soon is the day when they will don again their bright crowns. 

>w
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>nw
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>ne
The mountain Ear?elynd, called ?æxcyring by Elk-Folk, where lairs the dragon Lucender. Fang-foe, he froze the hero Istenlyc; by his snow-breath fell Bæd?el and Hearpcleoþ, strong axe-friends; their swords and skulls lay shattered in Tærweste. 

>w
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>e
The River Þorm, abode of thick-browed Garn-men. Ash-white is the tusk of the Cranh?al, sea-black its empoisoned tongue. 

>e
The hovel of the weaver Cædmyd, who fashioned bright Ðerf?ene. Battle-heavy was that tapestry, burdened by blood, that told of King Careþ. 

>e
In the ice-caves of Nemind creeps the ice-bat Ge?arcain, sovereign of vermin. Five are the wives of Ge?arcain: Beresceon the Jealous, Nepeþ the Wicked, As?ealt the Moist, Ecgemarc the Clinging, and Helabreoc the Furious. 

>e
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>ne
In Derdryng was raised a shrine to the war-saint Bleoc, who felled Seaxcrys, daughter of Fargol. With evil fire Hyrece, son of Seaxcrys, burned the shrine of Bleoc and laid it low; then ?arg, son of Bleoc, built the shrine once more, and then slew Hyrece, and then wisely slew Ennise, daughter of Hyrece. 

>e
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>w
The fields of Grecge roll unto the northern shores of Cealdhame. Here wander the blue Grecge-wolves, sharp-toothed protectors of the hill-farer S?ealtmare. 

>w
In the corpse-gray caves of Necsiþ dwells skin-eating Ermand, troll-disaster of the North, alone with his wife-sister Norhecge. Not a little despise they the sun-bright snow, yet by night they creep to farmers' huts and weavers' hovels and in darkness seek to eat the skin of men. 

>w
Lost forever upon the coldness of Tær?este lies Ðofydræcce, bright ring of gold, its gleaming wheel long unfilled by finger. 

>w
In this sallow scum-pond was Mærceg sealed, son of sea-demons, sire of Gærceg and Blærceg. Nine times spake the seer Lyftung the Word of Sealing; thereafter Mærceg no more made woe and weariness among the sons of Cealdhame. 

>sw
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>np
Please answer yes or no.> no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>w
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>nw
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>np
Please answer yes or no.> no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>ne
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>e
Lost forever upon the coldness of Tær?este lies Ðofydræcce, bright ring of gold, its gleaming wheel long unfilled by finger. 

>ne
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>e
In the corpse-gray caves of Necsiþ dwells skin-eating Ermand, troll-disaster of the North, alone with his wife-sister Norhecge. Not a little despise they the sun-bright snow, yet by night they creep to farmers' huts and weavers' hovels and in darkness seek to eat the skin of men. 

>ne
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>e
The fields of Grecge roll unto the northern shores of Cealdhame. Here wander the blue Grecge-wolves, sharp-toothed protectors of the hill-farer S?ealtmare. 

>ne
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>yes
Then you continue on, past the shores of Cealdhame, across the sharp-toothed sea, over the edge of the world.

And then you rise up into the air...

Kingdom of Cealdhame
You are floating above the the icy realm of Cealdhame. You must be very high indeed; you can take in the entire island in a glance!

Other lands lie north and east of here, if you remember correctly.

Nathalie's unsuccessful sand sculpture event took place on August 28, 2010. Today is August 27, 2011. You might be a bit loopy, but you're still lucid enough to do basic math: Nathalie has been plotting her revenge for eight thousand, six hundred and forty-seven days.

>* diabolical!
That's not a verb I recognize.

>x me
You try to focus.

Your head is killing you, and your face is sore from dragging it across the kingdom of Cealdhame. Before that you were in charge of a sidewalk chalk tournament. But it hasn't turned out very well.

>i
You are carrying nothing.

>l
Kingdom of Cealdhame
You are floating above the the icy realm of Cealdhame. Other lands lie north and east of here.

>e
Your legs feel so heavy. But you have to keep going.

Your path seems to stretch out longer and longer with each step. The trail ahead twists and swerves, rolling up and down over sinuous hills, until you finally reach a spindly fence of wrought iron, and a crooked stone gate, and a tall man, spreading wide his spiderlike arms.

"Greetings, greetings! I'm so pleased that you've joined us! But I should introduce myself. My name is Jack. I have the honor of serving as our little burg's representative?a cultural ambassador of sorts. And who might you be, my dear girl?"

"It's nice to meet you, Jack," you say without thinking. You're too tired to think. "I'm Hina."

He takes you by the hand and leads you through the gateway. "Well, then, Hina: Let me welcome you to Halloween Town!"

Halloween Town
A yellow moon hangs low over the pumpkin fields and graveyard. The denizens of Halloween Town are out in force, cavorting through the streets and across the countryside, toothy grins on every face. Doctor Finkelstein is scowling in his wheelchair; he may be the only one not having a good time. The mayor is stomping around among his constituents, looking deeply worried about something. The little witch-girl Shock is scurrying through the cemetery, searching for her friends.

The twisting road that skirts the city limits runs east and west.

"Please, stay and have a look around!" says Jack. "We so rarely have visitors."

>x jack
Jack Skellington is a dapper gentleman in a black suit (and tails!) and black bow tie. Despite his extremely lanky arms and legs, he moves with balletic grace. You can see why Faye likes him. His teeth are a little yellow, yes. And he's a skeleton. But he's a very charming skeleton.

>w

Kingdom of Cealdhame
You are floating above the the icy realm of Cealdhame. Other lands lie north and east of here.

>e

Halloween Town
A yellow moon hangs low over the pumpkin fields and graveyard. The denizens of Halloween Town are out in force, cavorting through the streets and across the countryside, toothy grins on every face. The mayor is stomping around among his constituents, looking extremely pleased with everything. A tiny devil-thing is toddling around on its stilt-like wingtips, apparently engaged in a game of tag. A hulking man with an axe lodged in his skull trudges toward you?and mercifully he keeps trudging past you.

The twisting road that skirts the city limits runs east and west.

Jack Skellington watches over the scene with his own satisfied smile.

>w

Kingdom of Cealdhame
You are floating above the the icy realm of Cealdhame. Other lands lie north and east of here.

>n

Ron Paul 2012
RON PAUL 2012

>* oof
RON PAUL 2012

>* I mean I was expecting something bad but not this bad
RON PAUL 2012

>x slogan
RON PAUL 2012

>die
RON PAUL 2012

>OK
RON PAUL 2012

>this is hell
RON PAUL 2012

>n

Coils of Ahigu
Step no further, Hina Shiroiwa. You have reached the end of your journey. You have wandered into a domain where I alone hold sway?I, the world-serpent Ahigu.

Behold my vastness! Here there is no earth, nor sky: Only the infinite twisting of my scaled body. No tail have I, nor arms, nor legs; but look upon my face, my deadly fangs?upon the venom that will be your death.

No, not yet. I will allow you to live, but you will not continue east into the Hall of Judgment. Turn back, go southwards, and reflect upon your deplorable failure.

>x snake
I am Ahigu, the Endless Wyrm. I am all around you! You can see nothing but my rippling coils, my cavernous maw, my dripping fangs.

>x coils
My length is measureless! I will unwrap myself enough to show you that more coils lie beyond, and more coils, unto infinity. There is no escape from Ahigu! But if you go south from here I will permit you to escape.

>x maw
Within my jaws is a cathedral of death: Its crimson walls run thick with viscious venom. My gigantic tongue dwells within, winding and curling like a python. You're welcome to take a closer look! Ha ha ha!

>x fangs
That isn't here. Or maybe it is here, but it isn't here enough to matter. Or maybe it's here, but that's not what it's called.

>x fang
That isn't here. Or maybe it is here, but it isn't here enough to matter. Or maybe it's not here, but it's here, but not in the way it's supposed to be.

>x teeth
That isn't here. Probably. Or maybe it is here, but it isn't here enough to matter. Or maybe it's not here, but it's here, but not in the way it's supposed to be.

>x maw
Within my jaws is a cathedral of death: Its crimson walls run thick with viscious venom. My gigantic tongue dwells within, winding and curling like a python. You're welcome to take a closer look! Ha ha ha!

>x tongue
That isn't here. Probably. Or maybe it is here, but it isn't here enough to matter.

>* huh
That's not a verb I recognize.

>talk to snake
There is no need to speak. My knowledge in this domain is absolute.

What do you wish to know, mortal?

1: My true nature? 
2: Why I won't let you move forward? 
3: How to leave this place? 
4: Or would you rather I stopped reading your mind? 

>1
I am the world called Ahigu, the primal serpent. I predate your fleshy pink existence by some millennia. In the Torah, I curse mankind with knowledge and death; in the Eddas, my venom fells the god of thunder. In the Vedas, I encircle the waters of creation and bring drought upon the world.

What else?

1: My true nature? 
2: Why I won't let you move forward? 
3: How to leave this place? 
4: Or would you rather I stopped reading your mind? 

>2
I do this for your own protection, Hina. You are not prepared for what awaits you in the Hall of Judgment. To continue eastward would take more fortitude than you can muster. You are only one Hina, after all.

What else?

1: My true nature? 
2: Why I won't let you move forward? 
3: How to leave this place? 
4: Or would you rather I stopped reading your mind? 

>3
I am a merciful world-serpent. I will allow you to return south to that realm whence you came.

I do not sense within you the gratitude such a gesture merits?So be it.

What else?

1: My true nature? 
2: Why I won't let you move forward? 
3: How to leave this place? 
4: Or would you rather I stopped reading your mind? 

>4
Very well!

>s

Ron Paul 2012
RON PAUL 2012

>e
RON PAUL 2012

>w
RON PAUL 2012

>sw
RON PAUL 2012

>jump
RON PAUL 2012

>s

Kingdom of Cealdhame
You are floating above the the icy realm of Cealdhame. Other lands lie north and east of here.

>e

Halloween Town
A yellow moon hangs low over the pumpkin fields and graveyard. The denizens of Halloween Town are out in force, cavorting through the streets and across the countryside, toothy grins on every face. Barrel the trick-or-treater pops his head up from behind a tombstone. Jack's dog Zero is chasing folks around and barking merrily. Doctor Finkelstein is scowling in his wheelchair; he may be the only one not having a good time.

The twisting road that skirts the city limits runs east and west.

Jack Skellington watches over the scene with his own satisfied smile.

>x road
A cobblestone path meanders east and west from here.

>x moon
The moon, pale and waxy, sits in the behind the black tentacle-hill at the border of Halloween Town.

>x fields
Every pumpkin already has a face carved in it. All the faces are grinning with ghoulish glee.

One of them winks at you.

>x hill
The coiled-up hill, a black spiral silhouetted by the moon, is as emblematic of Halloween Town as Jack Skellington's cheerful skull.

>wink
That's not a verb I recognize.

>l
Halloween Town
A yellow moon hangs low over the pumpkin fields and graveyard. The denizens of Halloween Town are out in force, cavorting through the streets and across the countryside, toothy grins on every face. A one-eyed mummy is chasing his friend up and down the street. Jack's dog Zero is chasing folks around and barking merrily. The little witch-girl Shock is scurrying through the cemetery, searching for her friends.

The twisting road that skirts the city limits runs east and west.

Jack Skellington watches over the scene with his own satisfied smile.

>x graveyard
The hillside is littered with graves, gothic tombstones popping out of the ground at unlikely angles. One of them reads "JACK SKELLINGTON."

>sing
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uLbdEtUaFhA

>* lol
That's not a verb I recognize.

>* Oh man I thought that was going to be Nightmare-Before-Xmas-specific
That's not a verb I recognize.

>l
Halloween Town
A yellow moon hangs low over the pumpkin fields and graveyard. The denizens of Halloween Town are out in force, cavorting through the streets and across the countryside, toothy grins on every face. A tiny devil-thing is toddling around on its stilt-like wingtips, apparently engaged in a game of tag. A hulking man with an axe lodged in his skull trudges toward you?and mercifully he keeps trudging past you. The mayor is stomping around among his constituents, looking deeply worried about something.

The twisting road that skirts the city limits runs east and west.

Jack Skellington watches over the scene with his own satisfied smile.

>x denizens
(You can't use multiple objects with that particular verb. I'm sorry. It's not up to me. Please, just refer to one thing at a time. I'm really sorry.)

>x devil
The creature has hands and feet, but they just flail around uselessly while its wings do the walking.

>x man
(Jack Skellington)
Jack Skellington is a dapper gentleman in a black suit (and tails!) and black bow tie. Despite his extremely lanky arms and legs, he moves with balletic grace. You can see why Faye likes him. His teeth are a little yellow, yes. And he's a skeleton. But he's a very charming skeleton.

>x other man
(Jack Skellington)
Jack Skellington is a dapper gentleman in a black suit (and tails!) and black bow tie. Despite his extremely lanky arms and legs, he moves with balletic grace. You can see why Faye likes him. His teeth are a little yellow, yes. And he's a skeleton. But he's a very charming skeleton.

>x axe
The man's eyes are blank; his mouth hangs slightly open. With that axe in his head, he looks the way you feel.

>take axe
You reach out for Behemoth and get distracted by your hands.

>x behemoth
The man's eyes are blank; his mouth hangs slightly open. With that axe in his head, he looks the way you feel.

>* huh
That's not a verb I recognize.

>x mayor
The mayor of Halloween Town wears a tall top hat, and a smiling face, and an upset face. His head spins around every so often to match his mood. Managing a head like that must require a well-developed emotional intelligence.

>talk to him
The mayor is perpetually busy, but Jack is able to flag him down. "Mister mayor, if you please: I'd like to introduce Hina, who's come to visit us."

The mayor switches from his cranky face to his friendly grin: "An out-of-towner! What a pleasant surprise! I'm sure Jack will make you feel right at home."

"He definitely is," you say, and Jack preens a little.

"And how long will you be staying with us?" asks the mayor.

"I'm afraid I have to get going soon. I have some responsibilities..."

"Responsibilities!" His head spins around, and now he's anxious again: "That reminds me!" And he shuffles off to handle something.

>talk to axe
You wave, but he just stares past you.

Jack leans down to whisper in your ear: "Behemoth has never been very sociable. Don't take it personally."

>talk to devil
The winged devil waves a grabby little paw at you as it runs away from the mummy boy.

>where's the dog?
That's not a verb I recognize.

>x girl
Shock's mask is featureless pale green affair. Her real face is much more witchy.

>talk to girl
As you walk up to Lock, Jack pulls you back. His fingers are hard and cold on your shoulder.

"Those trick-or-treaters aren't our friendliest citizens," he warns. "Let's not disturb their playtime."

Shock sticks her tongue out at you as soon as Jack's back is turned.

>l
Halloween Town
A yellow moon hangs low over the pumpkin fields and graveyard. The denizens of Halloween Town are out in force, cavorting through the streets and across the countryside, toothy grins on every face. A hulking man with an axe lodged in his skull trudges toward you?and mercifully he keeps trudging past you. A trick-or-treater named Lock is hiding in an open grave. Barrel the trick-or-treater pops his head up from behind a tombstone.

The twisting road that skirts the city limits runs east and west.

Jack Skellington watches over the scene with his own satisfied smile.

>talk to jack
Jack takes a seat on a chipped sarcophagus and invites you to join him.

"Now, then. What can your tour guide do for you?"

1: Ask him about the town. 
2: Let's learn more about him. 
3: Tell him what's going on with you. 
4: Say goodbye. 

>1
What specifically do you want to ask about?

1: "What do you guys do here?" 
2: "Are things normally like this?" 
3: Never mind. 

>1
"What do you guys do here?"

Jack leans in with his hands on his knees. He looks just like a stick insect. "An excellent question! Tell me, Hina: Back home, do you have a holiday called 'Halloween?'"

"Yes."

"And have you ever wondered where Halloween comes from?"

"I guess not."

"Well, it comes from here! We spend all year making Halloween!" Jack cackles gleefully. "And I think you'll find we've gotten very good at it."

Any other questions?

1: "What do you guys do here?" 
2: "Are things normally like this?" 
3: Never mind. 

>2
"Is the town always so..." You struggle for the right word. "...boisterous?"

"Oh, no, no, no." Jack wags a finger. "We have lots of work to do. All year long! But it is essential to set aside time for recreation. I've learned this lesson many times: Being too focused on your work can have drastic consequences. Mistakes start to creep in. Not to mention consequences for your personal life."

You know where he's coming from. Any other questions?

1: "What do you guys do here?" 
2: "Are things normally like this?" 
3: Never mind. 

>3
Okay. Is there anything else you'd like to discuss with Jack?

1: Ask him about the town. 
2: Let's learn more about him. 
3: Tell him what's going on with you. 
4: Say goodbye. 

>2
What would you like to know?

1: What's his job? 
2: Has he always been a skeleton? 
3: Why "Skellington?" 
4: Never mind. 

>1
"So, what do you do, when you're not being a cultural ambassador?"

"It is my honor to serve as Halloween Town's Pumpkin King! The master of ceremonies at our annual celebration! And, during the rest of the year, I'm... well, you might call me a creative director. I'm always developing new ideas."

"What kind of ideas?"

"Why, my dear?" He raises his arms theatrically, and his skull stretches into a wicked grin: "Ideas for how to scare the dickens out of people!"

Any other questions?

1: What's his job? 
2: Has he always been a skeleton? 
3: Why "Skellington?" 
4: Never mind. 

>2
"Jack, were you ever... I mean, have you always been..."

Jack leans in with great interest. He has no idea where you're going with this.

"I mean... That's your grave over there, right?" You point to the marker with his name on it.

"Oh! I suppose it is."

"So, does that mean you died at some point? I mean, were you ever alive?"

He frowns. He thinks about it.

"Not that I recall, no."

Any other questions?

1: What's his job? 
2: Has he always been a skeleton? 
3: Why "Skellington?" 
4: Never mind. 

>3
"Why is your name 'Skellington' and not, you know, 'Skeleton?'

Jack slaps his knee. "What a question! I quite admire your investigative instincts, Hina. It happens that my great-great-grandfather hailed from the village of Skellington, quite some distance from here." He gestures vaguely. "Of course, he was a skeleton, too."

1: What's his job? 
2: Has he always been a skeleton? 
3: Why "Skellington?" 
4: Never mind. 

>4
Sure. Is there something else you'd like to discuss with Jack?

1: Ask him about the town. 
2: Let's learn more about him. 
3: Tell him what's going on with you. 
4: Say goodbye. 

>3
Jack seems nice, but would he really care about your problems? What good would it do to burden him with the details of all your troubles? It would be cruel, in fact. It would ruin his week. You breathe a heavy sigh.

"What's wrong?" asks Jack.

You try to construct a noncommittal answer: "I've just been under a lot of stress lately."

He nods; he presses his distal phalanges together. "Why don't you tell me all about it?"

All right, fine. But where to begin?

1: Tell him about Lane. 
2: Tell him about Alec. 
3: Tell him about Nathalie. 
4: Tell him about the Sidewalk Chalk Tournament. 
5: Change the subject. 

>1
"My friend is in trouble. She fainted?I think somebody put something in her drink. I need to make sure she's okay."

Jack slaps his knee. "I'm sure you'll be able to help her, Hina! You've given me every reason to believe that you're a very capable young woman."

Well, that's nice of him to say.

1: Tell him about Lane. 
2: Tell him about Alec. 
3: Tell him about Nathalie. 
4: Tell him about the Sidewalk Chalk Tournament. 
5: Change the subject. 

>* are we friends?
(You'll have to pick a number from 1 to 5.)

>2
"I'm worried about Alec. I sent him off on an errand, and I haven't heard back. I wish I knew what happened to him."

"Is this Alec a friend of yours?" asks Jack.

Huh. That's a tricky one. "I guess? He was one of the only people willing to help me out with all this."

"But did he lend his assistance because he wanted a piece of the glory? Or because he hoped you'd owe him a favor?"

You scoff. "No, nothing like that. He's not getting anything out of this."

Jack nods. "That sounds like a friend to me, Hina."

Now you feel a little guilty.

1: Tell him about Lane. 
2: Tell him about Alec. 
3: Tell him about Nathalie. 
4: Tell him about the Sidewalk Chalk Tournament. 
5: Change the subject. 

>3
"There's this girl Nathalie. She was in charge of our arts event last year, and it was a... Well, it went very poorly. So this year I ended up organizing the event instead of her, and I guess she took it personally, because she sabotaged the whole thing."

Jack's skull twists into a furious scowl. "How dare she treat my friend so shamefully! She must be punished, Hina!"

"Well, I don't know if I have the authority to punish anyone."

He leaps to his feet and points a long, bony finger down at you. "This Honors arts event is your responsibility! You alone can bring Nathalie to justice!"

Then he sees you cowering in fear beneath him and composes himself.

He sits down, puts a reassuring arm over your shoulder: "But I'm sure you'll handle it well, whatever you do."

1: Tell him about Lane. 
2: Tell him about Alec. 
3: Tell him about Nathalie. 
4: Tell him about the Sidewalk Chalk Tournament. 
5: Change the subject. 

>4
You take a deep breath.

"I volunteered to coordinate the Honors arts event, to begin the fall semester. I thought sidewalk chalk would be fun, right? We'd get to be outside, but it wouldn't be like sand sculpture, where everyone was spending all their time shoveling. It would be totally casual. Just a way to decompress.

"But nobody signed up! I had to beg everyone to come, and then I had to beg Lane and Alec to be judges. The only person who actually volunteered to help was Nathalie, and she specifically wanted to be the hydration officer, and I should have guessed that something shady was going on?but I was so busy with the beginning of the semester and everything, I couldn't pay attention to anything. I completely forgot about prizes. I kept calling it a tournament and I never once thought about prizes! I call it a tournament but we have just six people actually participating.

"Then Jonathan tells me that Alec can't be a judge because he has his weird relationship with Jessica, so I have to coach Alec on what scores he's allowed to give?oh my gosh, if anyone finds out, they'll be so mad?the whole judging system is a complete farce. And then Xavier thinks it's cool to draw?he drew?it's?porn, basically, on a public sidewalk! This is the Honors program!

"And then Lane fainted, and I assumed she was just dehydrated, which would be bad enough. But everyone else starts going all goofy, and I realize Nathalie has made it her mission to ruin the sidewalk chalk tournament. Because it wasn't already ruined enough! And I can't fix anything. There's no coming back from this. I'm a failure."

You bury your face in your hands. Jack Skellington wraps his arms around you in an extremely uncomfortable hug. Then he says, in a soft, warm voice: "Let me tell you a story."

1: Let him tell you a story. 

>1
He takes a deep breath.

"You must understand: I've been the Pumpkin King for a very, very long time. I've coordinated more Halloween productions than I can count. And, if you will forgive a lapse in modesty, I've gotten very good at it. I grew so tired of Halloween, of the same old thing every year. I wanted to try something different.

"So I presented my associates with a pitch for a new kind of project. Something none of us had ever attempted! Something completely new?Well, not exactly. I more or less copied someone else's idea. But it was new to us, and we were all so excited! We took to it with twice the fervor of our Halloween preparations. We pulled out all the stops. We innovated?really innovated, for the first time in years! And then the night came for us to put it all into action.

"It was a catastrophe. Our audience wasn't at all prepared for our avant-garde sensibility, and they responded incredibly poorly. Nobody could have predicted that things could go so horribly wrong."

His face falls. "That's not true. Sally told me it would be a disaster, and I refused to listen to her. But I don't think even Sally had any idea how bad it would get. They actually shot me out of the sky with a missile.

"It wasn't until I pulled myself out of the smoking wreckage that I realized how utterly I had failed. I felt just like you're feeling now. Suddenly I was painfully aware of all the mistakes I had been blind to until that moment. All my hubris! I wanted to crawl into a hole and wither away.

"But something else occurred to me: I hadn't withered away quite yet. I was still Jack, the Pumpkin King! And I had something I didn't have before."

1: What was that? 

>1
"What was that?"

"Why, my tragic, ruinous, monumental, calamitous failure, Hina! I had experienced failure on a level few could ever hope to recreate. And when I decided to make that disaster a part of me?instead of collapsing beneath it and admitting defeat?I was a new man! I was the Jack Skellington who had been shot out of the sky with a missile! And I was brimming with new ideas, let me tell you. The next Halloween was one for the record books.

"Of course, first I had to clean up the horrible mess I had made. But that became much easier after I accepted and internalized my horrible failure. So, based on my experience," he says at last, "I think you're going to come out of this in fine form."

You dab at your eyes with your shirt.

>* I mean this is wise counsel
That's not a verb I recognize.

>thank jack
I didn't understand that sentence.

>talk to jack
Jack takes a seat on a chipped sarcophagus and invites you to join him.

"Now, then. What can your tour guide do for you?"

1: Ask him about the town. 
2: Let's learn more about him. 
3: Tell him what's going on with you. 
4: Say goodbye. 

>4
You thank Jack for his hospitality.

"Why, think nothing of it, friend! I only hope you'll be back again soon."

>l
Halloween Town
A yellow moon hangs low over the pumpkin fields and graveyard. The denizens of Halloween Town are out in force, cavorting through the streets and across the countryside, toothy grins on every face. The mayor is stomping around among his constituents, looking extremely pleased with everything. A one-eyed mummy is chasing his friend up and down the street. There's a wolfman scampering through the pumpkin patch, howling every so often.

The twisting road that skirts the city limits runs east and west.

Jack Skellington watches over the scene with his own satisfied smile.

>e

Curling Flower Space
Colors flow and mingle, turquoise into lavender, pale cream into indigo, rolling in fat raindrops down from liquefying petals, drenching the soil, impregnating the dark earth, the deep blackness of the earth.

The maiden and her knight lie sinking into melting lilies.

To the south and west are other spaces.

>x lavender
Inviting orchids, chaste violets, devoted lilacs, wandering heliotrope, and deceitful lavender merge into a sea of purple within encircling shores of cerulean and ultramarine.

>
I beg your pardon?

>x indigo
Bright bellflowers soften, forgetting inhibitions, merging with coy trickles of olivine and lavender.

>x cream
The maiden's mausoleum is her pool of white lilies, ringed with currents running ochre and turquoise.

>l
Curling Flower Space
Colors flow and mingle, turquoise into lavender, pale cream into indigo, rolling in fat raindrops down from liquefying petals, drenching the soil, impregnating the dark earth, the deep blackness of the earth.

The maiden and her knight lie sinking into melting lilies.

To the south and west are other spaces.

>x ochre
Orange dahlias crumble into ochre rivulets through pools of carmine and mauve, soaking the wet bones of the earth.

>x turqoise
That isn't here. Or maybe it's here, but that's not what it's called.

>x turquoise
Precious turquoise shimmers in the deliquescing sun, and seeps into currents mauve and olivine.

>x carmine
Sweet amaranth within wreaths of ultramarine and pale cream symbolizes immortality: Melting in the sun, diluting in the flood, fading and dying in the earth.

>x mauve
Sprays of nameless mauve wildflowers stand for unspoken feelings growing wild into obsession, choking beds of lavender and carmine.

>l
Curling Flower Space
Colors flow and mingle, turquoise into lavender, pale cream into indigo, rolling in fat raindrops down from liquefying petals, drenching the soil, impregnating the dark earth, the deep blackness of the earth.

The maiden and her knight lie sinking into melting lilies.

To the south and west are other spaces.

>x lilies
The maiden's mausoleum is her pool of white lilies, ringed with currents running ochre and turquoise.

>x knight
In a tangle of clinging arms lie the maiden and her knight; together they shed tears enough to dissolve a universe of flowers. The shared sorrow that afflicts their coupled hearts is unknowable, innominable. It is none of your business.

The knight has cast off his helm, has collapsed into the waters of his lady's emerald gown. His armor is already smeared with rust.

His left hand isn't pressed against his lady's back, but clutched tight around something.

>x helmet
That isn't here.

>x rust
From out of the sea of flowers rust climbs like hoarfrost over the knight's armor. The joints have locked in place: He will lie in this embrace forever.

>x emerald
Jessica's dress swallows her even as the waters swallow her dress, even as the dark earth swallows the swirling waters.

>x han
That isn't here. Or maybe it's here, but that's not what it's called.

>x hand
The knight is clutching his maiden; the knight's left hand is clutching something else.

>x left
The knight is clutching his maiden; the knight's left hand is clutching something else.

>open left
You pull at the gauntlet until the knight's fingers open at last: In his palm lies a tarnished key.

You grab it.

The empty hand now finds the maiden's back, and pulls her tighter against the knight.

>x key
This stubby key operates the faucet at the equipment shed. The water from that faucet probably tastes terrible, but it's not tainted with episcophacetin, and you need to drink as much of it as you can before you pass out.

>l
Curling Flower Space
Colors flow and mingle, turquoise into lavender, pale cream into indigo, rolling in fat raindrops down from liquefying petals, drenching the soil, impregnating the dark earth, the deep blackness of the earth.

The maiden and her knight lie sinking into melting lilies.

To the south and west are other spaces.

>s
A cloud of yellowish smoke billows over you, stinging your eyes, burning your lungs. You fall to your knees.

No, you need to keep going. Get up. Focus.

Inferno
Tall tongues of flame line the passage toward the dais where Nega-Hina lounges on her thorny couch.

Hot, dry wind whistles through narrow windows. Your only hope of escape is in returning to the north.

"You're here! Finally!" Nega-Hina groans. "I've been so friggin' bored."

>x flame
The flames stand like columns of soldiers at attention. Behind them, narrow windows look out on bleak, lifeless fields.

>x dais
Four steep stairs raise Nega-Hina's couch over the passage below.

>x couch
Nega-Hina luxuriates on a divan of shining black leather, studded with sharpened ivory tusks that circle her like rapacious teeth.

>l
Inferno
Tall tongues of flame line the passage toward the dais where Nega-Hina lounges on her thorny couch.

Hot, dry wind whistles through narrow windows. The way back is north.

>x hina
(Nega-Hina)
Her face is your face, down to the furrow in her forehead. And you recognize her body as your body, stretched out like a cat on her leather couch. She's your exact double?except for her horns, and her fangs, and her glistening red skin.

>* oh that's in poor taste
That's not a verb I recognize.

>talk to her
You take an uncertain step toward the dais.

She waves you closer. "Don't be shy. We have a lot of work to do."

1: "Who are you?" 
2: "What is this place?" 

>1
"Who are you"

"Oh come on. You know exactly who I am. You're just not 'comfortable' with me?" (here she uses finger-quotes, for some reason) "?so you tried to get rid of me. But it turns out you can't get rid of me! And actually, you don't want to get rid of me. You'll be a lot better off when we start working together."

1: Okay, I guess. 
2: I don't know about that. 

>2
How can you put this politely? "I'm sorry, but I don't think I feel comfortable accepting a naked devil-lady as an element of my psychology."

She rolls her eyes. "You're being really literal about this, Normal Hina."

"You're a succubus! You're trying to tell me all my problems are about being repressed, and if I embrace my sexuality that'll somehow fix everything."

Nega-Hina drags her claws down over her face. "Oh my gosh, that's not what's going on here at all."

"Well, maybe you could explain what really is going on here."

"Gladly! That's what I'm actually here for anyway, is to friggin' explain things..."

1: "What is this place?" 
2: Ask about one of the places you've been. 
3: Ask about what is going on in general. 
4: What am I even supposed to be doing here? 
5: Stop talking to Nega-Hina. 

>3
"Can you tell me just generally what's going on?"

She cocks her head. "I mean, sure, if you want. I feel like you have everything pretty much figured out already, though. I don't want to waste time explaining stuff you already know."

"That's very considerate of you."

"I know. But it's up to you. Do you feel like you need some extra clarification?"

>nah
Please answer yes or no.> np
Please answer yes or no.> no

"Eh, no thanks."

Nega-Hina nods.

1: "What is this place?" 
2: Ask about one of the places you've been. 
3: Ask about what is going on in general. 
4: What am I even supposed to be doing here? 
5: Stop talking to Nega-Hina. 

>1
"What is this place?"

"That's an interesting question, actually. We're in two places at once: Physically, this is the end of the sidewalk, where Xavier drew his bodacious drawing. But experientially, we're in..." Nega-Hina leans down and whispers: "Heck."

"Are you not able to say 'Hell' for some reason?"

She answers with a pout and a little who-even-cares shrug.

Then an awful thought occurs to you. "Are you saying Xavier drew a naked picture of me on the sidewalk?"

"No, no, no. You're just interpreting me in the context of your emotional baggage. Would Xavier know about this birthmark?"

She juts her hip out at you in an unnecessarily slinky manner.

"I guess not."

1: "What is this place?" 
2: Ask about one of the places you've been. 
3: Ask about what is going on in general. 
4: What am I even supposed to be doing here? 
5: Stop talking to Nega-Hina. 

>* oh whew
(You'll have to pick a number from 1 to 5.)

>2
What do you want to ask about?

1: Ask about the Coils of Ahigu. 
2: Ask about Rachel's artwork. 
3: Ask about the Kingdom of Cealdhame. 
4: Ask about Halloween Town. 
5: Ask about Curling Flower Space. 
6: Never mind. 

>1
"So, there's this gigantic snake guy?"

"Yeah, Ahigu! So friggin' cool."

"Well, he won't let me get to the equipment shed. If I try to get past him he'll venom me to death."

"Huh." Nega-Hina strokes her chin. "You know, Princess Hebryn of Cealdhame?mistress of the fortress Cynebrand?she wears a magic bracelet called Hlutorbeg. The stone-elves made it for her. It's supposed to grant its wearer immunity to poison."

"How do you remember all this?"

She shakes her head wearily. "Last January, you and Jonathan were in the Honors Center, and he was telling you all about his novel while you were trying to study for an exam. You tried so hard to ignore him, but unfortunately your subconscious mind absorbed every friggin' detail."

"Did I retain anything for the exam?"

Nega-Hina shrugs. "I dunno. I don't pay attention to that stuff. But if you go back to Cealdhame and get that bracelet, it might let you get past Ahigu."

"Well, last time I was there, I couldn't really observe or touch anything."

"Yeah, because you lacked perspective! You didn't have the context necessary to interpret what you were seeing. That's the value of conversations like these."

1: Ask about the Coils of Ahigu. 
2: Ask about Rachel's artwork. 
3: Ask about the Kingdom of Cealdhame. 
4: Ask about Halloween Town. 
5: Ask about Curling Flower Space. 
6: Never mind. 

>2
"What do you think of Rachel's entry?"

"Well, she did what she said she was going to do. I guess that's... honorable." You get the impression that Nega-Hina does not value honor very highly.

"Should I have told her she had to do something else?"

She throws up her hands. "It's your sidewalk chalk thing! Just tell people whatever you want!"

1: Ask about the Coils of Ahigu. 
2: Ask about Rachel's artwork. 
3: Ask about the Kingdom of Cealdhame. 
4: Ask about Halloween Town. 
5: Ask about Curling Flower Space. 
6: Never mind. 

>3
"How exactly am I supposed to get this magic bracelet?"

"I guess, go to Cealdhame, and, go inside of it again? And then look around for a magic bracelet?"

Very helpful.

1: Ask about the Coils of Ahigu. 
2: Ask about Rachel's artwork. 
3: Ask about the Kingdom of Cealdhame. 
4: Ask about Halloween Town. 
5: Ask about Curling Flower Space. 
6: Never mind. 

>4
"What do you know about Halloween Town and Jack Skellington?"

Nega-Hina raises a cautionary finger. "I know that guy is way too nice. I don't trust nice people."

"That's a terrible attitude."

"Well, you can try going through life associating with nice people?and being nice to them in return?and see where it gets you."

"Sounds great! Maybe I'll go talk to Jack instead of you!"

"Great! Go do that!"

1: "Fine, I will! 
2: "I would, but I'm not finished here yet." 

>2
"I would, but I'm not finished here yet."

"Is that so? You need more help? From me? Even though I'm not nice?" Nega-Hina gives you some big fake doe-eyes.

1: Ask about the Coils of Ahigu. 
2: Ask about Rachel's artwork. 
3: Ask about the Kingdom of Cealdhame. 
4: Ask about Halloween Town. 
5: Ask about Curling Flower Space. 
6: Never mind. 

>5
"What was that place with all the melting flowers?"

"That's just Jessica's entry. Alec must have spilled his bucket of water on it somehow."

"Oh." You nod.

Nega-Hina squints at you. "You did realize that was Alec and Jessica back there, right?"

"Of course I did," you fire back indignantly.

"Okay, okay."

1: Ask about the Coils of Ahigu. 
2: Ask about Rachel's artwork. 
3: Ask about the Kingdom of Cealdhame. 
4: Ask about Halloween Town. 
5: Ask about Curling Flower Space. 
6: Never mind. 

>* in fairness, I actually did
(You'll have to pick a number from 1 to 6.)

>1
You don't want Nega-Hina to think you're flailing, so you ask very casually: "Hey, what was I supposed to do about Ahigu?"

She counts on her fingers: "Go back over to Cealdhame. Get down inside it like you were earlier. Find the bracelet Hlutorbeg and put it on. And then see if Ahigu can still venom you to death."

"Okay."

1: Ask about the Coils of Ahigu. 
2: Ask about Rachel's artwork. 
3: Ask about the Kingdom of Cealdhame. 
4: Ask about Halloween Town. 
5: Ask about Curling Flower Space. 
6: Never mind. 

>2
"What do you think of Rachel's entry?"

"Well, she did what she said she was going to do. I guess that's... honorable." You get the impression that Nega-Hina does not value honor very highly.

"Should I have told her she had to do something else?"

She throws up her hands. "It's your sidewalk chalk thing! Just tell people whatever you want!"

1: Ask about the Coils of Ahigu. 
2: Ask about Rachel's artwork. 
3: Ask about the Kingdom of Cealdhame. 
4: Ask about Halloween Town. 
5: Ask about Curling Flower Space. 
6: Never mind. 

>6
Okay. What would you rather talk about?

1: "What is this place?" 
2: Ask about one of the places you've been. 
3: Ask about what is going on in general. 
4: What am I even supposed to be doing here? 
5: Stop talking to Nega-Hina. 

>3
"Can you tell me just generally what's going on?"

She cocks her head. "I mean, sure, if you want. I feel like you have everything pretty much figured out already, though. I don't want to waste time explaining stuff you already know."

"That's very considerate of you."

"I know. But it's up to you. Do you feel like you need some extra clarification?"

>no

"Eh, no thanks."

Nega-Hina nods.

1: "What is this place?" 
2: Ask about one of the places you've been. 
3: Ask about what is going on in general. 
4: What am I even supposed to be doing here? 
5: Stop talking to Nega-Hina. 

>4
You don't want Nega-Hina to think you're flailing, so you ask very casually: "What do you think I ought to do next?"

She counts on her fingers: "Go back over to Cealdhame. Get down inside it like you were earlier. Find the bracelet Hlutorbeg and put it on. And then see if Ahigu can still venom you to death."

"Okay."

1: "What is this place?" 
2: Ask about one of the places you've been. 
3: Ask about what is going on in general. 
4: What am I even supposed to be doing here? 
5: Stop talking to Nega-Hina. 

>
You don't want Nega-Hina to think you're flailing, so you ask very casually: "What do you think I ought to do next?"

She counts on her fingers: "Go back over to Cealdhame. Get down inside it like you were earlier. Find the bracelet Hlutorbeg and put it on. And then see if Ahigu can still venom you to death."

"Okay."

1: "What is this place?" 
2: Ask about one of the places you've been. 
3: Ask about what is going on in general. 
4: What am I even supposed to be doing here? 
5: Stop talking to Nega-Hina. 

>
You don't want Nega-Hina to think you're flailing, so you ask very casually: "What do you think I ought to do next?"

She counts on her fingers: "Go back over to Cealdhame. Get down inside it like you were earlier. Find the bracelet Hlutorbeg and put it on. And then see if Ahigu can still venom you to death."

"Okay."

1: "What is this place?" 
2: Ask about one of the places you've been. 
3: Ask about what is going on in general. 
4: What am I even supposed to be doing here? 
5: Stop talking to Nega-Hina. 

>4
You don't want Nega-Hina to think you're flailing, so you ask very casually: "What do you think I ought to do next?"

She counts on her fingers: "Go back over to Cealdhame. Get down inside it like you were earlier. Find the bracelet Hlutorbeg and put it on. And then see if Ahigu can still venom you to death."

"Okay."

1: "What is this place?" 
2: Ask about one of the places you've been. 
3: Ask about what is going on in general. 
4: What am I even supposed to be doing here? 
5: Stop talking to Nega-Hina. 

>5
"I should probably get going, actually."

"Sure, sure." Nega-Hina nods emphatically. "And, yeah, if you need anything else..."

"Yeah, definitely."

"Okay, cool. I'll be here."

"Right."

>x hina
(Nega-Hina)
Her face is your face, down to the furrow in her forehead. And you recognize her body as your body, stretched out like a cat on her leather couch. She's your exact double?except for her horns, and her fangs, and her glistening red skin.

>kiss her
You can only make so much progress on a journey of self-acceptance in one day.

>* aww I thought there could have been a real breakthrough
That's not a verb I recognize.

>n

Curling Flower Space
Colors flow and mingle, turquoise into lavender, pale cream into indigo, rolling in fat raindrops down from liquefying petals, drenching the soil, impregnating the dark earth, the deep blackness of the earth.

The maiden and her knight lie sinking into melting lilies.

To the south and west are other spaces.

>w

Halloween Town
A yellow moon hangs low over the pumpkin fields and graveyard. The denizens of Halloween Town are out in force, cavorting through the streets and across the countryside, toothy grins on every face. Sally the ragdoll sits on the hillside, brushing her hair and staring at the moon. A hulking man with an axe lodged in his skull trudges toward you?and mercifully he keeps trudging past you. Barrel the trick-or-treater pops his head up from behind a tombstone.

The twisting road that skirts the city limits runs east and west.

Jack Skellington watches over the scene with his own satisfied smile.

>w

Kingdom of Cealdhame
You are floating above the the icy realm of Cealdhame. Other lands lie north and east of here.

>d
You've spent more than enough time down in Cealdhame, and your face is rubbed raw. Are you sure you want to go back?

>yes
Then you descend again into that frost-ringed realm...

In eternal Winter's grasp rests icy Cealdhame, where was raised snow-heavy Byringsburh, throne of Careþ, bearer of the Pallid Crown. Long has Careþ reigned in peace; long have his enemies waited to rise up in war against him. 

>* I think it was west-ish
That's not a verb I recognize.

>w
The frozen swamp of Ylrecnæs, where the Mer-Witch Agaþe in her branch-hive composes her awful curses upon the princess of Cealdhame, favorite daughter of Careþ, love-wife of Nagol. 

>n
Six are the directions permitted in Cealdhame: Northeast, east, southeast, southwest, west, and northwest are these, and no others.

>nw
The mountain Ear?elynd, called ?æxcyring by Elk-Folk, where lairs the dragon Lucender. Fang-foe, he froze the hero Istenlyc; by his snow-breath fell Bæd?el and Hearpcleoþ, strong axe-friends; their swords and skulls lay shattered in Tærweste. 

>w
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>e
The River Þorm, abode of thick-browed Garn-men. Ash-white is the tusk of the Cranh?al, sea-black its empoisoned tongue. 

>e
The hovel of the weaver Cædmyd, who fashioned bright Ðerf?ene. Battle-heavy was that tapestry, burdened by blood, that told of King Careþ. 

>nw
In the corpse-gray caves of Necsiþ dwells skin-eating Ermand, troll-disaster of the North, alone with his wife-sister Norhecge. Not a little despise they the sun-bright snow, yet by night they creep to farmers' huts and weavers' hovels and in darkness seek to eat the skin of men. 

>w
Lost forever upon the coldness of Tær?este lies Ðofydræcce, bright ring of gold, its gleaming wheel long unfilled by finger. 

>w
In this sallow scum-pond was Mærceg sealed, son of sea-demons, sire of Gærceg and Blærceg. Nine times spake the seer Lyftung the Word of Sealing; thereafter Mærceg no more made woe and weariness among the sons of Cealdhame. 

>w
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>ne
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>e
Lost forever upon the coldness of Tær?este lies Ðofydræcce, bright ring of gold, its gleaming wheel long unfilled by finger. 

>se
The River Þorm, abode of thick-browed Garn-men. Ash-white is the tusk of the Cranh?al, sea-black its empoisoned tongue. 

>sw
The frozen swamp of Ylrecnæs, where the Mer-Witch Agaþe in her branch-hive composes her awful curses upon the princess of Cealdhame, favorite daughter of Careþ, love-wife of Nagol. 

>w
Beneath the tall grave-hills of Æbrings?al rest thirty fallen kings and queens of Cealdhame, their white skeletons locked in stout corpse-chests. Not soon is the day when they will don again their bright crowns. 

>w
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>e
The frozen swamp of Ylrecnæs, where the Mer-Witch Agaþe in her branch-hive composes her awful curses upon the princess of Cealdhame, favorite daughter of Careþ, love-wife of Nagol. 

>e
In eternal Winter's grasp rests icy Cealdhame, where was raised snow-heavy Byringsburh, throne of Careþ, bearer of the Pallid Crown. Long has Careþ reigned in peace; long have his enemies waited to rise up in war against him. 

>sw
Stendrard was slain by high marshal Crongferþ for want of Nipsende's breast-coffin; here his corpse-grave of death-cold alp-stone lay snow-locked these four thousand years. 

>w
Deep Unfyl?isc, the Lake of Weeping, whereinto Queen Friþ cast her unwanted infant ?æslic. ?æslic was by lake-otters weaned, and wears now the white breastplate of the lake otters' lord; no great grudge bears he against his birthing-mother. 

>w
In that direction lies the dark sea, and beyond that lie lands utterly unknown. Are you sure you want to keep going?

>no
Then you must wander the isle of Cealdhame... forever!

>e
Stendrard was slain by high marshal Crongferþ for want of Nipsende's breast-coffin; here his corpse-grave of death-cold alp-stone lay snow-locked these four thousand years. 

>e
Deep in the ?ylcwood stand the nine Æþincstones, snow-clothed, unremembered by men. In the days of the frost-wenches was a merriment danced round the henges, weaving and warping did they dance, to forge the braided glimmer of the Crown of Bronze. 

>sw
The fortress Cynebrand is Hebryn's home, fastness of stone, where wedding was made twixt she and Nagol the sea-sailor, murderer of Mundræd. On Hebryn's arm rests Hlutorbeg, famed silver-ring, by stone-elves wrought. She who wears that bracelet fears no poison, nor snake-sting, nor spider-bite, nor cranhwal-tongue. 

>* yup!
That's not a verb I recognize.

>x hlutorbeg
Stone-elves forged this silver bracelet for Princess Hebryn, and with grim stone-runes inscribed it. It's said that whoever wears Hlutorbeg can resist any poison.

>take it
Gladly does Princess Hebryn bestow upon you the beloved bracelet Hlutorbeg, and wishes you well in your future endeavors.

>wear it
You slip the heavy silver bracelet over your arm. Let's hope this works.

>talk to hebryn
Thanks to Nega-Hina's contextualization, you're able to understand fair Princess Hebryn much more clearly. But you also understand that you don't need to worry about fair Princess Hebryn.

>u
Do you wish to leave Cealdhame?

>yes
Then away you fly!

Kingdom of Cealdhame
You are floating above the the icy realm of Cealdhame. Other lands lie north and east of here.

>n

Ron Paul 2012
RON PAUL 2012

>x me
RON PAUL 2012

>s

Kingdom of Cealdhame
You are floating above the the icy realm of Cealdhame. Other lands lie north and east of here.

>x me
Your head is killing you, and your face is sore from dragging it across the kingdom of Cealdhame. Before that you were in charge of a sidewalk chalk tournament. But it hasn't turned out very well.

>i
You are carrying:
  Hlutorbeg (being worn)
  a tarnished key

>n

Ron Paul 2012
RON PAUL 2012

>n

Coils of Ahigu
Unlucky girl, you stand defenseless in the heart of my domain?the domain of the world-serpent Ahigu. Behold my vastness! Here there is no earth, nor sky: Only the infinite twisting of my scaled body. No tail have I, nor arms, nor legs; but look upon my face, my deadly fangs, dripping with fatal venom, and know true terror.

For the moment I will allow you to live, but you will not continue east into the Hall of Judgment. Turn back, go southwards, and reflect upon your deplorable failure.

>talk to viper
There is no need to speak. My knowledge in this domain is absolute.

What do you wish to know, mortal?

1: My true nature? 
2: Why I won't let you move forward? 
3: How to leave this place? 
4: Or would you rather I stopped reading your mind? 

>1
I am the world called Ahigu, the primal serpent. I predate your fleshy pink existence by some millennia. In the Torah, I curse mankind with knowledge and death; in the Eddas, my venom fells the god of thunder. In the Vedas, I encircle the waters of creation and bring drought upon the world.

What else?

1: My true nature? 
2: Why I won't let you move forward? 
3: How to leave this place? 
4: Or would you rather I stopped reading your mind? 

>4
Very well!

>e
What do you think you're doing? Don't you know what will happen if you disobey my commands?

My coils wind tight around you. I sink my fangs into your neck. My venom fills your veins. You will not live to regret this mistake, Hina. No one will learn from your insolence. Your pathetic story ends here.

Why are you still alive?

The bracelet Hlutorbeg?! It can't be! Where?How could you?

Oh, forget it. I know when I'm beat. Just get out of here.

Hall of Judgment
A few feeble fluorescent lamps illuminate this stretch of the tunnel. Further east and west, the lights are out, and the hallway stretches into darkness.

Lane's unconscious body is stretched out on the dingy tiled floor.

"This is your fault," she says.

>x lane
Her eyes are closed, her hair is half-fallen in front of her face. The way her arms and legs are arranged doesn't look very comfortable.

>talk to lane
You lean down to talk to Lane. Her eyes are still closed.

1: "Are you okay?" 
2: "I'm so sorry." 
3: "I'll be right back." 

>1
You put a hand on her forehead. "Are you okay?"

Lane's face grimaces. "Not really! Actually I'm in pretty bad shape! You've got a lot to answer for."

"I know. But right now I need to get?"

"No, right now is when you're going to answer some questions. First off, why didn't you call an ambulance as soon as I fainted?"

1: I thought I could handle everything myself. 
2: I thought Lane was just dehydrated. 
3: It was my responsibility. 

>2
"I thought you were just dehydrated. I couldn't have known that Nathalie spiked the water bottles."

"Couldn't you? Did you not notice everyone acting goofy?"

"I did! Just..." Sigh. "Not until it was too late. At the moment when you fainted, at least, I thought all your symptoms were consistent with dehydration."

"Well, maybe what we're learning here is that being pre-med doesn't make you a diagnostic expert."

You bristle, but you don't want to push Lane's body any further: "I guess not."

"All right, next question: Why on earth did you trust Nathalie to be the hydration officer?"

1: She deserved a second chance. 
2: I didn't think she would retaliate like this. 
3: I was desperate. 

>1
"It wasn't my place to punish her for what happened last year. She deserved a chance to redeem herself."

"Redeem herself by handing out water bottles?"

"Okay, I guess not. What I mean is, she deserved to be involved, even though the sand sculpture thing wasn't a success."

Lane's body chortles derisively. "Even though she spent most of her sand sculpture thing shirking her responsibilities and doing drugs?"

"Yes. I told you: It's not my job to punish her."

"You're being pretty nice about someone who's caused you a lot of problems."

"It's called empathy. Part of being a good person is having compassion even for people who hurt you."

Lane's body scoffs. "Sure. Next question: Why did you tell Alec to erase Xavier's artwork?"

1: "What does that have to do with anything?" 
2: "Because you fainted!" 
3: "Because of the boobs!" 

>3
"Because of the boobs! You can't draw a sexy demon lady on a public sidewalk! Especially for an Honors-sponsored event! Kids walk on these sidewalks! Old ladies who love to write angry letters walk on these sidewalks."

"I guess that makes sense," says Lane's body, obviously a bit disappointed.

"So are we done here?"

"We're not done until I say we're done," Lane's body grunts. "And yes, now we're done."

"Great." You stand up and wipe the dust from the floor off your butt.

>talk to lane
Lane's body doesn't want to talk to you anymore.

>e

Desert
Everything is sand. Sand dunes roll over the planet, shimmering in impossible heat. Yellow sand crusts over your sweaty skin. Sand is in your teeth. Sand is in your eyes. You want to scream.

A gleaming pillar of brass juts out of the sand.

>x sand
Looking directly at the sand makes your eyes sting.

>x brass
The pipe is polished brass. At the top of it is a spigot. On top of the spigot is an empty slot.

>put key in slot
You raise the key over its slot.

Something slams into your back, and you fall on your face in the sand.

"No, no, not yet," a voice bellows. Nathalie. "We still have some psychic baggage to unpack. We can't move forward as human beings if you get all sobered up."

You roll onto your side to spit up a mouthful of sand. Nathalie chuckles, and the world shakes.

>* oi
That's not a verb I recognize.

>x nathalie
Nathalie is a fifth-year senior of colossal aspect, forged from dazzling bronze. The towers of her legs rise up into the clouds; her hair scrapes against the firmament of Heaven.

>talk to her
You twist your body and try to face her. You open your mouth. Nathalie smiles patiently.

"?do you want?" you eventually manage.

"Hina. I want you to grow as a person. I want you to understand how unbearable you are, how miserable you make everybody because of your pathological need to be in control."

"I'm not?" You can't finish the thought.

"Oh, you will be," she says, "once you've finished broadening your perspective. Do you need another bottle of water?"

You shake your head.

>g
"Let me..." you gasp.

"Let you what?"

"I need to... The key."

"Oh! I get what you mean." Nathalie nods. "Yeah, I can't let you do that. You're on the precipice of self-actualization! You just have to power through until you understand what a pathetic little jerk you've been."

>g
All you can do is gasp for air.

"I wish I could see what you're seeing," Nathalie muses. "I've developed so much tolerance, I'm not really feeling anything at all."

>x me
Your head is killing you, and your face is sore from dragging it across the kingdom of Cealdhame. Before that you were in charge of a sidewalk chalk tournament. But it hasn't turned out very well.

>l
Desert
Everything is sand. Sand dunes roll over the planet, shimmering in impossible heat. Yellow sand crusts over your sweaty skin. Sand is in your teeth. Sand is in your eyes. You want to scream.

A gleaming pillar of brass juts out of the sand.

Nathalie towers over you, blotting out the sun.

>u
Seeing you prop yourself up to crawl away, Nathalie kicks your arms out from under you. "You have to stay down, Hina. I'm not done with you yet."

>talk to hina
That's not a talky thing. Stay focused, Hina.

>talk to nathalie
You don't have the energy to provoke any more of Nathalie's nonsense.

>l
Desert
Everything is sand. Sand dunes roll over the planet, shimmering in impossible heat. Yellow sand crusts over your sweaty skin. Sand is in your teeth. Sand is in your eyes. You want to scream.

A gleaming pillar of brass juts out of the sand.

Nathalie towers over you, blotting out the sun.

>roll
That's not a verb I recognize.

>dance
That's not a verb I recognize.

>sing
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uLbdEtUaFhA

>l
Desert
Everything is sand. Sand dunes roll over the planet, shimmering in impossible heat. Yellow sand crusts over your sweaty skin. Sand is in your teeth. Sand is in your eyes. You want to scream.

A gleaming pillar of brass juts out of the sand.

Nathalie towers over you, blotting out the sun.

>xbrass
That's not a verb I recognize.

>x brass
The pipe is polished brass. At the top of it is a spigot. On top of the spigot is an empty slot.

>turn key
You climb to your knees and grope at the spigot.

"Stop that!" Nathalie whines, shoving you back into the sand. "We're having a spiritual journey!"

>g
You try to pull yourself up onto your elbows, but Nathalie plants her foot on your back and pushes you down.

You know you can always ask for help, right?

>help
Don't worry, sweetie! I'm here.

Yeah, it's me! Nega-Hina! Your buddy! And we're gonna take this witch down together.

I guess we don't have a lot to work with. But take a look around, see if there's anything you can use. And if you can't figure it out right away, just, keep asking me for help, I guess.

>thanks!
That's not a verb I recognize.

>take sand
You grab a handful of sand.

>throw sand
Your arms are like jelly. You don't have the strength. A futile moan is all you can muster.

Nathalie leans down to look at you. "What did you just say? Are you breaking through your preconceptions? Are you having a eureka moment?" She brings her face close to yours, searching for signs of a breakthrough. Now she's close enough. You throw the sand into her eyes.

Nathalie shrieks and falls backward, clawing at her face.

Eventually her screams become a series of expletives that do not bear detailed transcription.

All right, you can handle things on your own from here. This has been Nega-Hina, signing off.

>turn key
You wrap your fingers around the spigot and pull yourself up. Your arms are so weak. Your mouth is so dry.

It takes both hands to get the key into its slot on top of the spigot.

You turn the key.

Water spurts out of the spigot?clear, pure water, flowing into the sand, splashing all over your hands and your arms and your clothes.

>drink water
You stick your face beneath the spigot and let the water fall into your mouth. It's not cold, but it's not as hot as everything else.

It tastes amazing.

When you can't drink any more, you fall back into the sand. The desert has shrunk. And there's a shed here that wasn't there before.

No, you tell yourself, the shed was always here. The desert isn't even a desert: It's just a pit of sand, where Nathalie, a normal-sized person, is rubbing her eyes and crying a little. Finally, you're beginning to think clearly.



    *** The End ***



Would you like to view some supplemental materials?
> yes
I was hoping you'd say that! Please press any key to continue.

Appendix

Thunder rumbles, far away.

Office
The place is kind of a mess. There's not enough space on the desk, so a bunch of documents are taped to the walls. The whiteboard easel is an inherently awkward object and manages to take up a lot of space. The rolling chair is shoved into a corner: There isn't really room to walk around in here while someone is sitting at the desk. Narrow passages lead northwest and southwest.

Rain taps steadily on the window.

>x me
You probably know better than I do.

>i
You are carrying nothing.

>x desk
There's papers and stuff all over the place, and I guess some of it is kind of interesting.

On the desk are a photograph of a birdhouse, a sheaf of legal documents, and a discharge summary.

A wastebasket is tucked underneath.

>x birdhouse
A picture of a blue birdhouse on a wooden post, surrounded by flat yellow rocks.

I guess this isn't directly related to the event in question.

>x discharge
That's just Nathalie's documentation from when she got out of rehab. I think if I tell you any of the details it's a HIPAA violation.

>x documents
Which do you mean, the desk, the sheaf of legal documents, or the wall?

>sheaf
There are a few different drafts of the same document here. On top is the final version:

The narrative compiled here purports to reflect only the recollections of the individuals involved. By continuing, you concede that I, the editor, bear no responsibility for the felicitous representation of any objective fact associated with this narrative; furthermore, you swear or affirm that you will not issue to the editor or publicly report any corrections or recriminations concerning this narrative's accuracy?Geographical, historical, medical, meteorological, or otherwise.

Oh right, this is that thing you agreed to earlier. What a helpful reminder for you!

>l
Office
The place is kind of a mess. There's not enough space on the desk, so a bunch of documents are taped to the walls. The whiteboard easel is an inherently awkward object and manages to take up a lot of space. The rolling chair is shoved into a corner: There isn't really room to walk around in here while someone is sitting at the desk. Narrow passages lead northwest and southwest.

Rain taps steadily on the window.

>x desk
There's papers and stuff all over the place, and I guess some of it is kind of interesting.

On the desk are a photograph of a birdhouse, a sheaf of legal documents, and a discharge summary.

A wastebasket is tucked underneath.

>x walls
Numerous pieces of paper have been taped to the wall (with painter's tape, so as not to arouse the ire of the building's custodial staff). Some of it might bear a closer look.

On the wall are a class photo, an angry letter, and an orchestra poster.

>x photo
Which do you mean, the photograph of a birdhouse or the class photo?

>class
Here we have a picture of a bunch of very happy children, each one holding a papier-mâché puppet in the shape of a different animal. The craftsmanship of these puppets is about what you'd expect from third-graders. The teacher's puppet is a little more polished, and has an arm that she can manipulate with a rod.

Written on the back:

9/19/2019

Somehow these little rascals found out that their teacher would soon be starring in a computer game! I told them they'd have to wait until they were a little older to play it. Then they started babbling about what kinds of horribly violent video games their parents let them play, and I had to tell them it was a game you have to read, with no graphics. That cooled them down somewhat (sorry).

I found your recent proposal very intriguing. Unfortunately it's too late in the semester to organize anything like that. Remind me next year. But before then, FINISH "A ROPE OF CHALK."

- Hina

The "i" is dotted with a heart?sarcastically. Please don't get the wrong idea.

>l
Office
The place is kind of a mess. There's not enough space on the desk, so a bunch of documents are taped to the walls. The whiteboard easel is an inherently awkward object and manages to take up a lot of space. The rolling chair is shoved into a corner: There isn't really room to walk around in here while someone is sitting at the desk. Narrow passages lead northwest and southwest.

Rain taps steadily on the window.

>x walls
Numerous pieces of paper have been taped to the wall (with painter's tape, so as not to arouse the ire of the building's custodial staff). Some of it might bear a closer look.

On the wall are a class photo, an angry letter, and an orchestra poster.

>x letter
Mr. Veeder,

I have taken time to evaluate your story "Aesthetics of Impermanence: A Rope of Chalk" as you requested. After careful consideration, I've concluded that I cannot lend my expertise to your work in any capacity until drastic changes are made. The depiction of episcophacetin-induced hallucination in your story, as a "fun," fairytale-like dream world, is grossly irresponsible and misleading. The "medical accuracy" with which you are so concerned is secondary to your social responsibility in representing the effects of episcophacetin abuse: A responsibility that you have thus far ignored. Following is a list of story elements that must be revised before I can move forward as your consultant.

There were a couple more sheets attached to this, but I don't know where they went.

>x poster
This is a poster for the Scottish Chamber Orchestra: All the musicians are holding their instruments and smiling on some huge staircase somewhere in Edinburgh. In front is the conductor, with the biggest smile of all.

I guess it's hard to see why I would have this: The woman in the back with the bassoon is Jessica Marinakis. And actually, her smile might be the biggest.

>x jessica
This is a poster for the Scottish Chamber Orchestra: All the musicians are holding their instruments and smiling on some huge staircase somewhere in Edinburgh. In front is the conductor, with the second-biggest smile of all. The woman in the back with the bassoon is Jessica Marinakis.

>l
Office
The place is kind of a mess. There's not enough space on the desk, so a bunch of documents are taped to the walls. The whiteboard easel is an inherently awkward object and manages to take up a lot of space. The rolling chair is shoved into a corner: There isn't really room to walk around in here while someone is sitting at the desk. Narrow passages lead northwest and southwest.

Rain taps steadily on the window.

>x desk
There's papers and stuff all over the place, and I guess some of it is kind of interesting.

On the desk are a photograph of a birdhouse, a sheaf of legal documents, and a discharge summary.

A wastebasket is tucked underneath.

>x easel
It's a flimsy collapsible easel. (It doesn't belong in the building; it was a gift from a high school teacher who got frustrated with its flimsiness.) On the easel is a whiteboard.

>x whiteboard
There are a bunch of illegible notes and weird schematics on this whiteboard; almost everything has been crossed out (why not erased?) to indicate that it's been taken care of. But here are some recognizable names: 0. THE CAVE, I. THE DELUGE, II. THE BEAST, III. THE FORTRESS, IV. THE EYES?Hey, that's not right.

>* hmm
That's not a verb I recognize.

>l
Office
The place is kind of a mess. There's not enough space on the desk, so a bunch of documents are taped to the walls. The whiteboard easel is an inherently awkward object and manages to take up a lot of space. The rolling chair is shoved into a corner: There isn't really room to walk around in here while someone is sitting at the desk. Narrow passages lead northwest and southwest.

Rain taps steadily on the window.

>x chair
It's a piece of junk, but they'll never get around to replacing it.

>l
Office
The place is kind of a mess. There's not enough space on the desk, so a bunch of documents are taped to the walls. The whiteboard easel is an inherently awkward object and manages to take up a lot of space. The rolling chair is shoved into a corner: There isn't really room to walk around in here while someone is sitting at the desk. Narrow passages lead northwest and southwest.

Rain taps steadily on the window.

>x desk
There's papers and stuff all over the place, and I guess some of it is kind of interesting.

On the desk are a photograph of a birdhouse, a sheaf of legal documents, and a discharge summary.

A wastebasket is tucked underneath.

>x wastebasket
Luckily, the cleaning staff don't come up here very often, so if something ends up in the trash by accident there's plenty of time to recover it.

In the wastebasket is an arcane diagram.

>x arcane
There's a lot going on here: A bunch of squares and triangles, a diamond with a cross on top of it, the words "wet cold > dry cold > wet hot > dry hot," and an extremely crude drawing of a medieval castle.

Surely there's more interesting reading material around here.

>take it
Taken.

>l
Office
The place is kind of a mess. There's not enough space on the desk, so a bunch of documents are taped to the walls. The whiteboard easel is an inherently awkward object and manages to take up a lot of space. The rolling chair is shoved into a corner: There isn't really room to walk around in here while someone is sitting at the desk. Narrow passages lead northwest and southwest.

Rain taps steadily on the window.

>take all
photograph of a birdhouse: Taken.
sheaf of legal documents: Taken.
discharge summary: Taken.
class photo: You carefully pull the class photo down from the wall.
angry letter: You carefully pull the angry letter down from the wall.
orchestra poster: You carefully pull the orchestra poster down from the wall.

>l
Office
The place is kind of a mess. There's not enough space on the desk, so a bunch of documents are taped to the walls. The whiteboard easel is an inherently awkward object and manages to take up a lot of space. The rolling chair is shoved into a corner: There isn't really room to walk around in here while someone is sitting at the desk. Narrow passages lead northwest and southwest.

Rain taps steadily on the window.

>i
You are carrying:
  an orchestra poster
  an angry letter
  a class photo
  a discharge summary
  a sheaf of legal documents
  a photograph of a birdhouse
  an arcane diagram

>l
Office
The place is kind of a mess. There's not enough space on the desk, so a bunch of documents are taped to the walls. The whiteboard easel is an inherently awkward object and manages to take up a lot of space. The rolling chair is shoved into a corner: There isn't really room to walk around in here while someone is sitting at the desk. Narrow passages lead northwest and southwest.

Rain taps steadily on the window.

>x window
It's just a little window, but the view is great: The roofs of different parts of the building, all glistening in the rain, and beyond that, the gold dome of the Old Capitol.

At the bottom of the window frame, there's a jagged piece of metal sticking out.

>open it
I don't think that's possible.

>x dome
I don't think that's here.

>xpiece
That's not a verb I recognize.

>x piece
It looks like something got snapped off.

>pull it
Hey, be careful. It's sharp!

>take it
Hey, be careful. It's sharp!

>l
Office
The place is kind of a mess. There's not enough space on the desk, so a bunch of documents are taped to the walls. The whiteboard easel is an inherently awkward object and manages to take up a lot of space. The rolling chair is shoved into a corner: There isn't really room to walk around in here while someone is sitting at the desk. Narrow passages lead northwest and southwest.

Rain taps steadily on the window.

>open window
I don't think that's possible.

>l
Office
The place is kind of a mess. There's not enough space on the desk, so a bunch of documents are taped to the walls. The whiteboard easel is an inherently awkward object and manages to take up a lot of space. The rolling chair is shoved into a corner: There isn't really room to walk around in here while someone is sitting at the desk. Narrow passages lead northwest and southwest.

Rain taps steadily on the window.

>nw

Library
This is only a "room" by virtue of being hemmed in by a bunch of tall bookshelves. In the middle of the space is a long table covered in research materials.

Narrow passages lead southeast, south, and southwest.

>x shelves
It looks like all the books here are medical journals. To be perfectly honest, I've never cracked any of them open.

>x tables
I don't think that's here.

>x table
The table is sort of the shape of a conference table, but I don't know how you'd fit a conference in this tiny space. There might be something cool to look at here...

On the long table are a lengthy letter, a cardboard box (closed), a pile of sketches, and a handwritten letter.

Wind whistles sharply outside.

>x lengthy
Dear Ryan,

I'm happy to answer this and any other questions you might have. Don't hesitate to write again if there's anything else you'd like to ask about.

Shelly Lampada, our faculty advisor, dissolved the Honors Arts Committee shortly after the Sidewalk Chalk Tournament. Early in the Spring semester, Faye Thompson proposed resurrecting the committee. She had just read about "Nuit Blanche" and wanted to recreate the concept on the University of Iowa campus. Shelly only agreed to allow an exploratory committee to assess the feasibility of such an event. Understandably, Hina and Alec were reluctant to participate, but Faye managed to wrangle me in. She had little luck convincing anyone else to join; the committee consisted of Faye, myself, and freshman Elena Maric.

It was around this time that Faye and I became romantically involved, an arrangement that did not prove conducive to large-scale event planning. In retrospect, I think Shelly had hoped all along that Faye would eventually abandon the Nuit Blanche proposal. To Shelly's chagrin, despite having made no demonstrable progress in assessing feasiblity after two months, Faye refused to concede. Shelly eventually dissolved our committee, and the Nuit Blanche concept would not be realized until 2014.

However, Shelly left the Honors program at the end of the Spring 2012 semester. Her replacement, Isaac Diston, was less wary of trusting underclassmen with arts events. He permitted the Nuit Blanche exploratory committee to reconvene as a full-fledged Arts Committee, and we were allowed to organize a semester-opening event of our own, with the caveats that it be conducted indoors with what he called a "buttload" of faculty supervision.

I apologize if I've gone into excessive detail. To answer your question: Yes, we did have another Honors arts event in August 2012. Faye, Elena, and I hung butcher paper on the walls of the Honors center, and students were encouraged to draw all over it with crayons. Nothing approaching the drama of the previous two years' events transpired.

Thank you for writing. I hope you are well, and that your work is going smoothly.

Sincerely,
Lane Mulville

>l
Library
This is only a "room" by virtue of being hemmed in by a bunch of tall bookshelves. In the middle of the space is a long table covered in research materials.

Narrow passages lead southeast, south, and southwest.

>x table
The table is sort of the shape of a conference table, but I don't know how you'd fit a conference in this tiny space. There might be something cool to look at here...

On the long table are a lengthy letter, a cardboard box (closed), a pile of sketches, and a handwritten letter.

>x sketches
A note is paperclipped on top of the sketches:

Hey Ryan - Unfortunately I don't have any photos of my entry from the "incident." There was a big storm right after Hina called the police, everything got washed away. I do have some sketches I drew to prepare for the event though & thought they might be useful. - X

The drawings are of a sultry demoness in several different states of undress. In one, she's sitting on a throne made of skulls. Each printout has a © XAVIER DANERI watermark somewhere on it.

>x handwritten
Nathalie's handwriting is very narrow and slanted. Very European. Not especially easy to read.

Dear Ryan,

Three things. First, I hope everything is going well with your work. Second, I have kind of a strange request.

Lucas and I are planning, or trying, or hoping, to adopt a child. We've been discussing the idea since forever, but we've both been too intimidated by the idea to take any concrete action until just recently.

Obviously it's very difficult for someone with a criminal record to get approved, but fortunately with the agency we're looking at it's still technically possible, if you can get enough people to vouch for you.

Luke suggested that I ask you to be a character reference. I feel like I should stress that it was his idea. Not that I think it's a bad idea! But Luke pointed out that nobody else is so intimately familiar with my "case" and can "speak to the extent of [my] rehabilitation" the way you can.

I completely understand if you're not comfortable getting yourself entrenched in the very thorny process of adoption application, but please take it under consideration.

Anyway, the third thing! Our yoga studio was in the local paper!!! I'm including a clipping (don't worry, I have approximately twenty copies of this issue). Look at how professional we look! Doesn't that look like a couple who you'd want to help with their adoption application???

Love,
Nathalie

Well obviously I helped them out. (This letter is from like three years ago.) I think their kid's name is Ethan. I have no idea what happened to the newspaper clipping.

>x table
The table is sort of the shape of a conference table, but I don't know how you'd fit a conference in this tiny space. There might be something cool to look at here...

On the long table are a lengthy letter, a cardboard box (closed), a pile of sketches, and a handwritten letter.

>open box
You open the cardboard box, revealing an index card and a bunch of ribbons.

>x card
On the card it says:

I found these the other day! I never got a chance to pass them out after the event, so I guess I brought them home and squirreled them away and completely forgot about them. I thought you should have them...

By the way, I gave your game another look and I think you made me too mean to Alec. I know it's from his perspective, but I don't remember being that nasty. Maybe you could put a disclaimer in there that says I'm actually very nice :) Good luck finishing it!

Okay, fine: VICTORIA GRAHAM IS VERY NICE.

>x ribbons
They're like ribbons you'd pin to people's lapels at a state fair, all in different colors, but none of them say "first place" or "second place" or anything like that. This one says "Great Work!" and this one says "EXCELLENCE" and then there are are three that all say "Best Judge."

You can hear rain thrumming against the walls and roof.

>se

Office
The place is kind of a mess. There's not enough space on the desk, so a bunch of documents are taped to the walls. The whiteboard easel is an inherently awkward object and manages to take up a lot of space. The rolling chair is shoved into a corner: There isn't really room to walk around in here while someone is sitting at the desk. Narrow passages lead northwest and southwest.

Rain taps steadily on the window.

>drop all
orchestra poster: You put down the orchestra poster.
angry letter: You put down the angry letter.
class photo: You put down the class photo.
discharge summary: You put down the discharge summary.
sheaf of legal documents: You put down the sheaf of legal documents.
photograph of a birdhouse: You put down the photograph of a birdhouse.
arcane diagram: You put down the arcane diagram.

>nw

Library
This is only a "room" by virtue of being hemmed in by a bunch of tall bookshelves. In the middle of the space is a long table covered in research materials.

Narrow passages lead southeast, south, and southwest.

>s

Narrow Hall
A claustrophobic passage runs north and south.

I don't think this part of the building was originally designed to be office space, is the thing.

>s

Lounge
"Lounge" might be overstating it a bit. There are a couple of vinyl couches here, and a mini fridge, and an ominous miniature door. Next to each couch is an end table with a little lamp.

Narrow passages lead northwest, north, and northeast.

>ne

Office
Come to think of it, "office" might be an overstatement too.

The place is kind of a mess. There's not enough space on the desk, so a bunch of documents are taped to the walls. The whiteboard easel is an inherently awkward object and manages to take up a lot of space. The rolling chair is shoved into a corner: There isn't really room to walk around in here while someone is sitting at the desk. Narrow passages lead northwest and southwest.

Rain taps steadily on the window.

You can see an arcane diagram, a photograph of a birdhouse, a sheaf of legal documents, a discharge summary, a class photo, an angry letter, and an orchestra poster here.

>sw

Lounge
There are a couple of vinyl couches here, and a mini fridge, and an ominous miniature door. Next to each couch is an end table with a little lamp.

Narrow passages lead northwest, north, and northeast.

>x couches
Which do you mean, the blue couch or the orange couch?

>blue
It's a two-seater bench-type thing covered in bright blue vinyl. It's really more of a waiting room couch than a lounge couch.

>x orange
It's a two-seater bench-type thing covered in bright orange vinyl. It doesn't clash with the blue one as badly as you might think.

>x fridge
Between the two end tables is a modest mini fridge. There's a magnet stuck to the door.

>x magnet
"One more MRI and I'll stick to the fridge!"

I don't know if that makes any sense, but I'm not a radiologist.

>open it
It isn't something you can open.

Wind whistles sharply outside.

>open fridge
You open the mini fridge, revealing a frozen Snickers bar.

>x bar
It's a normal-sized Snickers bar, in its wrapper. It is cold.

>eat it
You pull open the wrapper.

You take a bite out of the Snickers. It's good when it's cold, right? In my opinion, putting them in the freezer is a step too far. But this is delicious.

Before you know it, you've taken several more bites.

>close fridge
You close the mini fridge.

>l
Lounge
There are a couple of vinyl couches here, and a mini fridge, and an ominous miniature door. Next to each couch is an end table with a little lamp.

Narrow passages lead northwest, north, and northeast.

>x door
Which do you mean, the mini fridge or the miniature door?

>miniature
It's definitely not regulation door size; it kind of looks like it was carved out of the wall as an afterthought. The sign says "EMERGENCY EXIT ONLY. Alarm will sound if opened."

>open it
That just goes out onto the roof. You can leave it closed.

You can hear rain thrumming against the walls and roof.

>g
That just goes out onto the roof. You can leave it closed.

Seriously, don't worry about it.

>g
That just goes out onto the roof. You can leave it closed.

Seriously, don't worry about it.

>g
That just goes out onto the roof. You can leave it closed.

Seriously, don't worry about it.

>l
Lounge
There are a couple of vinyl couches here, and a mini fridge, and an ominous miniature door. Next to each couch is an end table with a little lamp.

Narrow passages lead northwest, north, and northeast.

>x end table
Which do you mean, the east end table or the west end table?

>east
A boxy table with a wood veneer surface, indistinguishable from its partner. But this one has a different lamp on top.

On the east end table is a chapbook.

>x chapbook
A slim little hand-bound book. The cover says:

BIRD POEMS
"I Wrote 'Em"
Alec Arden

Beneath that there's a crude line drawing of a black-capped chickadee.

>read book
Someone (not me!) has taken a thick marker to this book and scribbled over most of the poems. This stanza is circled, though:

Oh, drop me not on the sidewalk. Look:
the swarming harpies of Night descend
to roil my hair with sweat, and snap
my shivering bones out of joint. Defend
me, Mona, take my arm over you,
and remind my knees how they're supposed to bend.

>g
Someone (not me!) has taken a thick marker to this book and scribbled over most of the poems. This stanza is circled, though:

Oh, drop me not on the sidewalk. Look:
the swarming harpies of Night descend
to roil my hair with sweat, and snap
my shivering bones out of joint. Defend
me, Mona, take my arm over you,
and remind my knees how they're supposed to bend.

>g
Someone (not me!) has taken a thick marker to this book and scribbled over most of the poems. This stanza is circled, though:

Oh, drop me not on the sidewalk. Look:
the swarming harpies of Night descend
to roil my hair with sweat, and snap
my shivering bones out of joint. Defend
me, Mona, take my arm over you,
and remind my knees how they're supposed to bend.

A deep rumbling reverberates somewhere in the distance. It might be thunder, or it might be a truck.

>x west
(the west end table)
A boxy table with a wood veneer surface, indistinguishable from its partner. But this one has a different lamp on top.

On the west end table is a thick novel.

>x novel
The cover reads FROST-WENCHES OF CEALDHAME: A Prelude to the Cealdhame Sequence. Then there's a picture of a frost-wench contemplating an orb. Beneath that is the name JONATHAN DEVRIES in an intimidating serif font.

>l
Lounge
There are a couple of vinyl couches here, and a mini fridge, and an ominous miniature door. Next to each couch is an end table with a little lamp.

Narrow passages lead northwest, north, and northeast.

>x lamp
Which do you mean, the mushroom-shaped lamp or the flower-shaped lamp?

>mushroom
The lamp on the east table is a minimalist mushroom-shaped piece of red plastic.

>x flower
This lamp's frosted glass shade is shaped like a daisy.

>nw

Classroom
This is the classroom that time forgot: There's a chalkboard behind the podium! And the walls are done up in some very groovy red fabric. There are only twelve desks in here, and they're all in terrible shape.

Come to think of it, I don't know if they even still teach any classes up here.

The exits are northeast and southeast.

One of the desks has a transcript sitting on it.

>ne

Library
This is only a "room" by virtue of being hemmed in by a bunch of tall bookshelves. In the middle of the space is a long table covered in research materials.

Narrow passages lead southeast, south, and southwest.

>sw

Classroom
This is the classroom that time forgot: There's a chalkboard behind the podium! And the walls are done up in some very groovy red fabric. There are only twelve desks in here, and they're all in terrible shape.

The exits are northeast and southeast.

One of the desks has a transcript sitting on it.

A deep rumbling reverberates somewhere in the distance. It might be thunder, or it might be a truck.

>x chalboard
I don't think that's here.

>x chalkboard
The chalkboard is blank.

A piece of chalk rests on the sill.

>x chalk
I'm sure that, to most people, this piece of chalk would look pretty innocuous. But you and I know better.

>
I beg your pardon?

>l
Classroom
This is the classroom that time forgot: There's a chalkboard behind the podium! And the walls are done up in some very groovy red fabric. There are only twelve desks in here, and they're all in terrible shape.

The exits are northeast and southeast.

One of the desks has a transcript sitting on it.

>x podium
A very simple wooden podium. There's no need for a microphone stand or a computer hookup or projector controls when the room only has a chalkboard.

On the podium is a birth announcement.

>x announcement
This is a postcard with a picture of a tiny sleepy baby on it, along with the words:

INTRODUCING
Mitchell Lee
June 1, 2020 at 4:05 a.m. - 7 pounds, 8 ounces, 21 inches
Welcomed by James, Rachel, and big brothers Jacob, Scott, William, and Levi

The other side of the card is blank.

>l
Classroom
This is the classroom that time forgot: There's a chalkboard behind the podium! And the walls are done up in some very groovy red fabric. There are only twelve desks in here, and they're all in terrible shape.

The exits are northeast and southeast.

One of the desks has a transcript sitting on it.

>x fabric
The walls are upholstered, if that's the word, with red fabric that looks like it's trying to evoke a peacock-feather pattern. Maybe it's supposed to be an acoustic thing?

You can hear rain thrumming against the walls and roof.

>x desks
A bunch of combination chair-desks, dating from an era before they learned how to make such things the least bit comfortable. I notice they're all right-handed.

>open desks
They aren't something you can open.

>x transcript
This is clearly a printout of a NotePad document. I guess not all of it is here:

interview with Faye Thompson - Jul 30 2017 - page 4

RV: Does that [Alec's recollection] line up with what you remember?

FT: Basically yeah. Basically.

RV: So then what happened after you talked to Alec?

FT: I was alone for a while and my mind was playing tricks on me. I got very paranoid. I kept hearing things that weren't there. It took me a while to realize Alec should have come back. So I went looking for him and I saw him and Jessica holding each other on the ground. I thought they were...

RV: I'm not sure what you mean.

FT: I thought they were dead! I guess I was already hallucinating enough that that made sense to me. So I ran, out into the street, crying for help.

RV: Into the highway? I thought it was all blocked off for construction.

FT: I don't remember. I might have jumped over the fence, I guess. I remember running across the torn-up street, and running across the train tracks.

RV: I think there are some bars and restaurants between the highway and the train tracks.

FT: Yeah but I don't remember those. I remember crawling up to the train tracks, and over the tracks, and down the incline to the river. A bunch of rocks, down to the river. I skinned both my knees on those rocks.

RV: [sympathetic noise]

FT: I think I was about to run right into the river, but then this huge dog comes out of the water.

RV: What?

It continues onto the next page.

>g
interview with Faye Thompson - Jul 30 2017 - page 5

FT: Well he wasn't a real dog.

RV: Oh, that makes--Sure, sure.

FT: He was huge, like the size of a wolf, but he had these big friendly eyes. And he started telling me that everything was gonna be okay, and I just needed to stay put and calm down. He kind of talked me down, I guess.

RV: Do you think it was a real person that you were hallucinating was a dog? Or a real dog that you were hallucinating was huge and could talk?

FT: Well, he definitely came up out of the river, so...

RV: Sure, sure.

FT: He stayed there and talked to me for a long time. And some of the stuff he said...

[long pause]

RV: We don't have to get into specifics.

FT: Sorry. It's just--I don't know if I can put it into words. He understood some stuff that--He was a very smart dog, let's put it that way. So maybe you can put that in the game somehow.

RV: Gosh. Yeah, definitely. I mean, hopefully.

FT: Can I ask you a question?

RV: Sure.

That's all there is.

>g
This is clearly a printout of a NotePad document. I guess not all of it is here:

interview with Faye Thompson - Jul 30 2017 - page 4

RV: Does that [Alec's recollection] line up with what you remember?

FT: Basically yeah. Basically.

RV: So then what happened after you talked to Alec?

FT: I was alone for a while and my mind was playing tricks on me. I got very paranoid. I kept hearing things that weren't there. It took me a while to realize Alec should have come back. So I went looking for him and I saw him and Jessica holding each other on the ground. I thought they were...

RV: I'm not sure what you mean.

FT: I thought they were dead! I guess I was already hallucinating enough that that made sense to me. So I ran, out into the street, crying for help.

RV: Into the highway? I thought it was all blocked off for construction.

FT: I don't remember. I might have jumped over the fence, I guess. I remember running across the torn-up street, and running across the train tracks.

RV: I think there are some bars and restaurants between the highway and the train tracks.

FT: Yeah but I don't remember those. I remember crawling up to the train tracks, and over the tracks, and down the incline to the river. A bunch of rocks, down to the river. I skinned both my knees on those rocks.

RV: [sympathetic noise]

FT: I think I was about to run right into the river, but then this huge dog comes out of the water.

RV: What?

It continues onto the next page.

>l
Classroom
This is the classroom that time forgot: There's a chalkboard behind the podium! And the walls are done up in some very groovy red fabric. There are only twelve desks in here, and they're all in terrible shape.

The exits are northeast and southeast.

One of the desks has a transcript sitting on it.

>take chalk
Taken.

>draw on board
You write "on board" on the chalkboard.

You can hear rain thrumming against the walls and roof.

>draw the end
You write "the end" on the chalkboard.

>draw design
You write "design" on the chalkboard.

>* that's a little more po-mo than I was going for
That's not a verb I recognize.

>draw hina
You write "hina" on the chalkboard.

>drawn nega-hina
That's not a verb I recognize.

>draw myself
You write "myself" on the chalkboard.

>x board
The chalkboard has "on board the end design hina myself" written on it.

You can hear rain thrumming against the walls and roof.

>e
I'm afraid you can only go northeast or southeast. Or you can just quit the game. The story's over.

>* thanks!
That's not a verb I recognize.

>quit
Are you sure you want to quit? yes