These are the files. I hope you have everything you need.
>>939
You've had quite enough of your clone and her shenanigans, you decide. No sooner have you thought this than she is gone, exploring the lower troposphere and no doubt enjoying a lovely aerial view of the burning hedge maze. You try to cast Complete regeneration (active skill) on Continue-chan, but unfortunately it only works on living creatures, and your beloved childhood friend has been dead a while now. How bothersome! You don't have a chance to express your exasperation, however, because at that moment your clone lands on top of you, crotch first. With nothing but a quiet whooshing noise, you are erased from this universe.
GAME OVER
Deaths: 46
(Continuing from most recently saved game: >>938)
>>940
You simply cannot handle this situation any more. Fully aware that both of your companions lack your fire resistance, you leave them in the midst of a - by now - quite substantially ablaze labyrinth. In an effort to rid yourself of the stress and frustration of dealing with your other self, you scream and shake your arms around madly, running about with no heed for your path. A minute or so later, you find yourself outside the maze, at the base of the hill with the gazebo on it. The building is nicely framed by a pair of large oak trees to either side of it. Inside is a wrought iron table and set of chairs, in one of which is that girl in lilac, happily sipping at a cup of tea. She waves to you amiably.
Give in to starvation.
Ask the lilac girl for a cup of tea.
Don't drink any tea we might receive. Hold it out at arm's length and pour it slowly and deliberately on the floor.
>>942
You decide you've had quite enough of coming close to suffering bizarre and ridiculous deaths. I mean, who's to say you won't be ritually murdered by someone as avaricious as yourself? Or be devoured by tentacles? Or just accidentally fall into your own crotch? Really, it's a wonder you're still alive at all. You may as well end it yourself, properly, and starvation seems an appropriately noble, oddly poetic sort of death to aim for. You sit around for an immense length of time, not really paying attention to what's happening, but firmly refusing all food offered to you. Against all the odds, you succeed in your endeavour, and die in an incredibly slow and torturous manner.
GAME OVER
Deaths: 47
(Continuing from most recent saved game: >>941)
>>943
You serenade the girl in lilac with one of the more dubious entries in your musical repertoire. She listens patiently, chin in hand, stopping only to take another sip of her tea. When you are done, she smiles and beckons you closer.
>>944
You skip gleefully up the hill and take a seat opposite the enigmatic, finely dressed young lady. She gladly pours you out a cup of black tea, letting you help yourself to milk and sugar. "Come to think of it," she says, "I don't think I properly introduced myself earlier. My name's Cassandra, but you can call me Cassie-chan. I'm so glad you've chosen to join me for a tea party, especially considering, all thing considered, we ought to be fighting. Think about it; you've been facing ever stronger enemies over the course of these escapades, and I'm by far the strongest thing you've met so far."
She pauses a moment, drinks the rest of her tea, then resumes her pontifications while preparing herself another cup. "That's why I'm so glad to see you have superseded this silly, cliché sort of idea that every adventure needs a "final boss". Just because I'm more powerful than you and we're serving different agendas doesn't mean we can't sit down and discuss this over tea."
>>945
Without a word, you stand up and libate the tea onto the wooden flooring of the gazebo. There is absolute, dead silence between the two of you. Her eyes narrow, and she says, slowly, deliberately, "I see. So that's how it is." With a deep breath, she stands up from her seat and faces you, an inscrutable look on her face.
You review your situation. You are currently armed with an espada ropera and a very, very bloody ceremonial stone knife. In the maze below is Continue-chan and your clone, both of whom are potential allies and both of whom are likely in danger from the fire, along with a robotic suit, which may prove useful in its own ways. In the mansion is some combat armour (although it really doesn't fit you very well), a laser gun, and facilities for cloning, amongst other things.
Formally challenge Cassandra to a one-on-one duel to the death, with 24 uninterrupted hours to prepare.
>>947
The girl laughs openly, cruelly, at your suggestion. "You have until midnight," she asserts, "And it shan't be one-on-one. Bring all your allies; you'll need them."
>>948
She smirks and says, cryptically, "Well, I can give you one warning that I know will go unheeded: soon, you'll wish you had more friends."
Without warning, she vanishes in a flash of light, leaving her half-full teacup gently steaming on the table.
>>949
Addressing thin air, you expound your might and martial prowess. There is no response.
Make fart noises with your mouth as you lament your inability to pass actual intestinal gasses.
Teleport Continue-chan and our clone out of the burning maze and heal them as best as possible. If our clone is beyond saving, ritualistically kill her for the skill points.
genuflect
>>952
"Prrrrrp," you say, fighting back the tears. Why can't you just pass wind like everyone else? Why is your body so cripplingly inadequate? Is it your intestinal flora? Have you not been eating enough probiotic yoghurt? Oh, cruel fate! It's more than you can bear.
>>953
You wander back to the hedge maze. The edges, especially near the mansion, are already nothing but ash and cinders, but more or less all of the rest is nothing but a raging inferno. Enormous flames, metres tall, lick at the sky, as thick, coal-black clouds of smoke tower above you, blotting out the sun. You get as close as you can, but cannot locate anybody, living or otherwise. After an hour or so the fire begins to die down enough to allow further exploration. You find that not only have the two vanished without a trace, but so has the enormous robotic suit Continue-chan came in.
>>954
Lost, bereft, feeling nothing but your own solitude pressing down upon you, you bend your knee and pledge yourself to - to what? What is it you fight for? You aren't sure any more.
It is late afternoon, and the sun is already well on its way towards the horizon. You have only a few short hours until midnight.
Find out what a paladin is.
Go back to the masnion, find the cloning machine, and clone self as much as possible.
Make the clones super dumb.
Then kill them all for mana and skill points.
Put enough skill points into social skills to persuade some intelligent clones to help fight Cassandra.
After all, they're still technically us, so she'd be fighting Jack and it would still be a duel.
Hug self
>>956
You are struck by a sudden awareness that you aren't really sure what a paladin is. Given that you've a few hours to spare, you wander back to the mansion, explore until you find a library, then trace up and down the shelves until you find a dictionary. You check a few other dictionaries and encyclopaedias for good measure, and thus learn that "paladin" can refer either to one of the twelve elite warriors of Charles I's court, or, by extension, to any heroic knightly figure.
>>957,958
You make your way downstairs to the laboratory. Though you aren't sure what time it is, the sun has set and the lighting inside the mansion is wholly inadequate. The shadows play tricks with your eyes, and you hear faint noises - creaking, occasionally tapping. The console is as obfuscatory and unhelpful as ever, and, when you do eventually manage to create a clone of yourself, brings up a message reading:
WARNING: SUBSTRATE COUNT LOW: 4
Going downstairs to the basement room where your clone showed up before, you find another clone of yourself has materialised in an odd, mechanical capsule, as before. Pleased with your preliminary success, you return to the laboratory to continue tinkering. There are an incredible number of variables you can modify via the console, but none seem to control intelligence specifically. After some experimentation, all you manage to create is three completely unresponsive, comatose - but still breathing - clones of yourself. The console now claims that the substrate count is two (whatever that means). You ritually dispose of the useless clones, gaining six skill points and 300 mana. You now have six unspent skill points and 770 mana.
>>959
Unfortunately, you don't think you can play games on the cloning machine console, not even games as profound and deeply meaningful as Penis Cloner.
>>960
Much as you'd like to improve your social skills - goodness knows you could do with it - you think this would be better achieved through practising light conversation and mental restraint. These skill points, whatever they are, are more associated with arcane and forbidden techniques and knowledge.
You feel uneasy. You hear a faint noise behind you - a footstep? Or just your imagination? Looking up, you find your own clone; the one whom you last saw in the burning hedge maze. Her clothing, hair, and the skin on her legs are charred and burnt. She has a stern look on her face. She is holding a laser gun to your forehead. "Don't move," she says, "You... you monster, you left us to die! I've been watching you, you've been creating more clones, just to kill them as well! Doesn't human life have any meaning to you at all‽"
Finally, an intelligent clone! You put all your social skills into action in an attempt to persuade her to join you in your crusade against the foul Lady Cassandra - and also, perhaps, not point that laser gun at you. Against all the odds, you actually manage to come to a compromise; she'll fight alongside you, on the condition that you do not create any more clones of yourself.
>>961
Rejoicing in your newly forged armistice, you embrace your clone. She reciprocates the gesture. She smells like burning. What a delightful scent, you think to yourself.
Ask what happened to Continue.
Also, check possible fields that skill points could be spent on.
Heal clone.
Put all skill points into matrimony.
Use knife to cut some wire from the computer and make a ring.
Propose marriage to clone.
Be clone. Refuse marriage. Eat own hand in protest.
>>963
Your clone claims that, with her aid, Continue-chan got back into the mobile suit - which is ostensibly in fact Stove Stove - and walked off into the sunset, down a dirt track into the forest. She says that it wasn't the same one leading to the enormous crater.
Available skills are telekinesis, pyromancy, necromancy, healing, enchantment, matrimony, thaumaturgy and theoretical physics.
>>964
Now that you've plenty of mana to spare, you go ahead and spend 50 mana using Magical healing (active skill) on your clone. The skin on her legs blisters over and cutifies. She appears surprised at your uncharacteristic philanthropy, and cautiously expresses her thanks.
You spend all six of your skill points on matrimony, unlocking the following skills:
You hack at the wires leading out of the back of the computer with your ceremonial stone knife, cutting them. You try to fashion the cable into a ring, but, as your hand brushes against the internal wire filaments, you find yourself accidentally forming a segment of an electrical circuit. You die of electrocution.
GAME OVER
Deaths: 48
(Continuing from most recent saved game: >>962)
You attempt to use Proposal (active skill) on your clone, but lack an engagement ring.
>>965
You are now playing as Jack Conundrum-chan's clone. To be honest, you still don't trust the original Conundrum-chan in the slightest; certainly not enough to vow to be with her until death do you part. In fact, you find the idea so repulsive, you try to chew off your own ring finger to prevent it, without much success.
Put 2 skill points into telekinesis so I can finally rearrange the matter in my hand to create an anti-light source that absorbs and violently reacts with light.
Shed a single tear for the past world.
Quick! Search for the files!
Make grinding noises with your teeth
rub rod
xyzzy
Give remaining skill points to clone.
>>967
As Jack Conundrum-chan's clone lacks any available skill points, you go back to playing as the original Jack Conundrum-chan. You put two skill points into telekinesis, unlocking the following skills:
You have four unspent skill points remaining.
>>968
A drop of fluid traces a path down your cheek. You aren't sure why.
>>969
The files! The files! Where are the files? Ah! That's right, you dropped them back at >>538. Well, there's no use searching if you already know where they are. Besides, they can't be that important; surely, you have everything you need already.
>>970
You grind your molars against one another. An abrasive sound resonates through your skull.
>>971
You caress the shaft of the retort stand nearby. No genies pop out.
>>972
You don't know how to xyzzy.
>>973
Similarly, you have no idea how to go about donating abstract concepts such as skill points. You aren't even sure what skill points are, for that matter.
Dance like you've got no pants!
Heal clone and ask her to help us build a makeshift fort out of whatever we can find.
Do something to advance the plot since this thread is almost over
Drag out the pre-final-battle plot as long as possible.
Add flashback film clips quickly before the final battle starts.
Repair the piano.
>>975
You dance quietly, in the middle of the laboratory, shifting your limbs to and fro rhythmically to music that only you can hear. You find that you don't need to pretend you lack legwear, as all you're wearing at present is a labcoat. At that moment, an unpleasant thought makes itself known to you: are you really dancing like you've got no pants? Is this perchance something separate from actually dancing without pants? If a person were dancing whilst wearing pants but pretending they weren't, would the pants still influence their dancing? Perhaps not even consciously; the slight constriction of the clothing would limit your movement, however imperceptibly - not to mention the risk of exposing one's crotch (an even greater danger for you personally) would be different whether you were in fact at risk of exposure or only feigning thus. Then of course there's the taxonomical question of what is meant by "pants" - is it in the UK sense (i.e. underpants) or the US sense (i.e. trousers)? Or is it the plural of "pant", as in "the dog had been panting so much that it had no pants left"? You find that you're no longer in the mood for dancing.
>>976
You spend 50 mana healing your poor clone's wounds as a gesture of goodwill. She seems grateful, even if she doesn't express it much. The two of you gather chairs, a table and a few cardboard boxes, and set about constructing yourselves a little bastion. You find that the most easily defensible position is the fume cupboard on the Eastern wall, which you both duly climb into and build upon. You feel warm and safe inside.
>>977
Try as you might to create some sort of event or plot device, it still isn't midnight and nothing whatsoever is happening in the laboratory.
You quietly reflect upon the nearing of the thread's ending, and how it fits into the greater phenomenon of human achievement and creation - the inevitability that everything that grows, changes and lives must, too, come to a close and die.
"Don't worry," says your clone, patting your hand, "I bet there'll be a part two anyway."
>>978
You decide to spend a while staring at your own toenails. They're pink, with an off white lining, as is normal. Though one would expect them to decrease in size proportionally to the size of the associated toe, you find that, with the exception of the big toenail (which, it goes without saying, is substantially larger than the rest) they are each much the same. This is true of both feet. You find the shape of the toenails themselves, especially the big toenail, to be quite aesthetically pleasing. The sweeping curve of the leading edge, outlined by the hyponychium, provides a striking contrast to the relatively straight lines around the cuticle.
>>979
You think back on your past escapades, reliving the memories in your head. Remember that time you consumed a tentacle monster with your crotch? Or the time you cybernetically enhanced your teacher? Oh, and who could forget that time you murdered your beloved childhood friend, the only person who'd ever truly loved you, in cold blood?
>>980
You make your way back to the ballroom, but one glance at the piano - currently little more than sawdust - is enough to make you give up. Standing in the middle of the ballroom, however, is a very startled looking Mecha Alexei. "Argh!" he exclaims on seeing you, then, struggling to regain his composure, continues, "I, um, need access to the cloning apparatus. It's very important. I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave the room as well."
anusrape
Tell Mecha Alexei that we will comply with his demands but only if he pledges his life to help us defeat Cassandra.
tap two blue mana and cast counterspell
Be Stove Stove. Save the day.
>>982
You aren't sure how to do that.
>>983
Having no immediate need for the cloning facilities, you have no particular reason to refuse - but, at the same time, there's no such thing as a free lunch. You briefly outline the predicament you find yourself entrenched in and firmly request Mecha Alexei's allyship. Upon mention of the midnight deadline, he glances at his left wrist and says, offhandedly, "That's in less than fifteen minutes, you know? Anyway, yes, certainly, I agree to fight Cassie-chan. Don't worry about it." Without waiting for your concurrence, he rushes into the laboratory, slamming the doors shut behind himself.
>>984
You try to tap your finger against your mana, but find yourself again deceived by the apparent existence of abstract concepts. You can no more touch your mana - blue or otherwise - than you can quantum chromodynamics. You cannot cast counterspell as there aren't any spells being cast upon you (to your knowledge). Even if there were, most of the spells cast upon you so far have been of the giant fireball variety, and your countering has consisted generally of proactive offence. You may have difficulty defending against any more sophisticated attack.
>>985
You have thus far been quite open about your sapphic tendencies, but, you decide, it may be time to get back "in the closet", so to speak. To demonstrate your raging heterosexuality, you go ahead and embrace your clone, showing how, despite the proximity to a beautiful girl, you have absolutely no desire to kiss, fondle or marry her.
>>986
You are now playing as Stove Stove. You find yourself, an enormous stone mecha suit containing an undead schoolgirl, standing in an alpine meadow near the top of a small mountain. You can see, about a kilometre or two downhill, the grounds of a large mansion. There is a fairly brisk east wind blowing, and the cumulus fractus is billowing along the planetary boundary layer at an impressive pace. You feel wonderfully at ease, intimately close to a cute little girl, looking out over a peaceful vista, with nothing and no one trying to attack or abandon you. The day is saved. You need do nothing more.
eat cumulus fractus
Be innocent.
Find Cassandra and crush her!
eat dicks
Be Jack. Sneak into the cloning room to see what Alexei is up to.
>>988
Making full use of your autonomy and sentience, you go ahead and take control from Continue-chan, launch yourself into the air and attempt to consume one of those delightfully picturesque cloud formations. Your passenger appears quite distressed by this, and immediately instigates a manual override. You didn't even know that was possible. To your dismay, you are forced back down to earth, without having tasted that heavenly candyfloss-like substance.
>>989
Continue-chan enters into your internal console:
What the hell? Was that you, Stove Stove?
Try as you might to be innocent, you know at heart you are guilty of her accusation.
>>990
Again, you launch into the air, filled with indignation at the continued existence of that foul Cassandra girl. Why, she has even indirectly threatened the wellbeing of your beloved companions! For this, nothing but a violent, forceful compression of some or all of her body by yourself will suffice. Unfortunately, you find yourself once again grounded by an unamused Continue-chan.
>>991
You jump into the air, ready to embark on a quest to consume at least two people with the first name Richard, but to no avail. You really have to do something about this manual override business, you decide.
>>992
You are now playing as Jack Conundrum-chan. Employing all of your skill in espionage and secrecy, you put your ear to the door and listen for a time to enter unnoticed. You hear, very faintly, tapping at the computer terminal, followed by footsteps leading away. You sneak into the laboratory, now empty, and carefully make your way to the computer. It seems to indicate sample J0 has been imprinted onto one of the two remaining substrates.
You hear two sets of footsteps approaching from the direction of the door at the back of the laboratory.
sabotage machine
Eat the darkness then become the darkness.
Clench up every muscle and grunt like a sweaty homo from Dragon Ball Z as you prepare for the ultimate post.
Do not make another one of these threads after this ends