,,,,You wake up to the loud whistle of the train, and the slow acceleration is pushing you against your seat.
Voices dance in your ears : others passengers installed themselves in the car, and are now talking, singing hymns ou looking by the window.
You relax a bit.
Everyone is like you here : a unknow traveller.
[[Go to next beat]](storylet: when visits < $run_count)\
\
The train stops, taking you out of your thoughts.
“Thirty minutes at the Mistwoods, thirty minutes ! We will leave without you if you are not back by then.”
People move around you, and the blood in your legs instructs you to go out for a walk. So you obey, and the hot air whips your face as you walk down. The sun is high in the sky: it's noon as far as the eye can see, but nothing is certain. You don't know what region you are in, or where you are. There is only one certainty: you were on the train taking you somewhere, and there, right now, under your feet, the ground is made of brick.
You decide to walk along the platform, enjoying the slightly painful reactivation of the circulation in your aching muscles. Other travelers are leaning against the metal pillars, smoking cigarettes or drinking what appears to be coffee. They're waiting for the train to start up again, just like you.
Your gaze is drawn to a movement: a cat.
It is a cat with a black coat, stretching between two benches. His gaze crosses yours, and you have the impression that his golden irises search your soul: no secret, no flaw, no memory escapes them. But after a few seconds, he nods his head, as if satisfied, and turns to slip away between two walls.
[[Follow the cat ->Event 1 bis]] (storylet: when visits < $run_count)\
Please be warned that this beat contains slight disturbance. Nothing horrific, but can still be difficult to read if you are sensible.
You can skip to the next beat by (link-goto: "clicking here.", "Skip to next beat")
-----
The walk to the bathroom seems endless.
You pass by some open doors, letting you see into the intimacy of other travellers : in the first, you see on the table an aquarium filled with orange liquid and blues fishes. On the couch there’s only some clothes.
Nobody’s there.
The second is full of elegants people : a chandelier in the corner is singing softly in French. In front of him, three mouses dressed in white suits are playing fiddle.
Near the window, a small woman is reading cards to an older gentleman.
Everyone’s seems to enjoy their trip.
The hall leading to your destination is filled with portraits, with drawings. They all represent lanscapes you've seen, or think you've seen.
You could not pinpoint when in your lifetime you saw it.
They just feels... familiar.
You finaly see the door you need to open to go into the washroom, and you storm into it, glad to let behind you the strange corridor.
[[You look into the mirror. ->Event 2 bis]](storylet: when visits < $run_count)\
\
Please be warned that this beat contains horror themes. You can skip to the next beat by (link-goto: "clicking here.", "Skip to next beat")
---
You feel exposed.
A thousand stares burns your back, through your seat, from the depth offfffx22 You feel alone, despi.-e the other passen(link:"###########################################")[==gers walking through the car. a
You wipe your eyes? unsure if you're crying or tirEd. Everything is a lot. You wwwwnder if soMEthing should ##ppe~n.
(link:"Something happens")[Something happens(click-goto:"eyes","Yalaarn, the eyeless 2")]
[ [[Yalaarn, the eyeless 2]] ](comment|(storylet: when visits < $run_count)\
As you walk back to your seat, you feel a soft body brushing against your leg. You lower your eyes to meet the deep blue stare of the bean that looks up to you. With its two pointy ears and four small legs, it feels almost dog-like, but still made of simple and round shapes, not to say of the red skin and one blue eye. You hear someone call for it from the other side of the Wagon, but you might have time for a few pats.
(link-rerun:"Pats")[(append:?woof)[woof
]]
(link-goto:"Let it go","Go to next beat")
(text-rotate-z:9)[]<woof|(storylet: when visits < $run_count)\
You once again press your head against the window, absorbed by the scrolling sky whose colors have given you compagny. However, it was not a color or a light that attracted your eyes for once, but the majestic sound the sky whale produced.
This one in particular is magnificent, ondulating across the stars, only to plant its sharp teeth into a fluffy cloud, ripping its soft shape into edible chunks for its children.
Mesmerised by its natural elegance, you keep watching for a while.
(link-goto:"Stop watching","Go to next beat")(storylet: when visits < $run_count)\
It is this time again, when the suns and moons dance around and time changes all at once. This sunset is sure to be an interesting one.
You lift your eyes through the window, seeking the star before it starts coming down. The moon has almost reached his height when you find him, shining a bright yellow light down. Is seems to be a dark blue, gibbous moon, that seems even darker than pure black.
As both celestial bodies enter collision, you feel a rush of warmth coming through you. Their clash has started.
And as quick as it began, it ends with the sun coming down. Rock has, once again, beaten scisors.
(link-goto:"Get comfy and relax a bit under the night sky","Go to next beat"){=
(set: $events_left to 2)
(set: $next_is_event to true)
(set: $run_count to 1)
(set: $alphabet to "azertyuiopqsdfghjklmwxcvbn" + (uppercase: "azertyuiopqsdfghjklmwxcvbn"))
(set: $corrupt to (macro: str-type _textOg, num-type _rng, [{
(set: _letters to (split: '', _textOg))
(set:_res to (str:))
(for: each _letter, ..._letters)
[
(if: (random:0,99)<_rng)[
(set: _res to it + $alphabet's random)
] (else:)[
(set: _res to it + _letter)
]
]
(output-data: _res)}])){
(if: (open-storylets:)'s length <= 1)
[
(goto:"End")
]
(else:)[==
(if:$next_is_event)
[
(if:$events_left > 0 and (open-storylets: where its tags contains "Event")'s length >= 0)
[
(set: $next_is_event to false)
(set: $events_left to $events_left-1)
(goto: (either: ...(open-storylets: where its tags contains 'Event'))'s name)
]
(else:)
[
(go-to:"End")
]
]
(else:)
[
(if: (open-storylets: where its tags contains "Transition")'s length <= 1)
[
(goto:"End")
]
(set: $next_is_event to true)
(goto: (either: ...(open-storylets: where its tags contains 'Transition'))'s name)
]
[[End]] For ref purposes
}You reckognise this stop. You're not sure if it is somewhere you've visited, or if someone you know lives here, but you're certain they have a home for you tonight.
And maybe, maybe, you'll be able to sit in a warm chair, a cup of coffee in your hand, while the world keep spinning.
[[I need rest from my travels->Credits]]
(link:"I want to keep exploring")[{
(set: $events_left to 2)
(set: $next_is_event to true)
(set: $run_count to it + 1)
(goto:"Start")
}]Un storylet commence par `(storylet: when visits < $run_count)\`
Pour aller vers un storylet au hasard : `(goto: (either: ...(open-storylets: where its tags contains 'Event'))'s name)`
Remplacer Event par Transition au besoin
Un storylet a le tag Event ou Transition
On peut ajouter des conditions au besoinYou rest in a place you can call home.
-----
Made by Nyarlana and Noctimak as part of the Text Based Adventure Jam.
May be updated in the future.
(link:"Restart a new story")[(restart:)]
(link:"Contacts")[=You can find our social down here ! Be warned that we both mainly speak french, but we're able to speak english well enough if you wanna chat !
You can find Nyarlana ''(coder / writer)'' here :
* (link: "Itch.io")[(goto-url: 'https://nyarlana.itch.io')]
* (link: "Twitter")[(goto-url: 'https://twitter.com/nyarlana']
You can find Noctimak ''(writer)'' here :
* (link: "Itch.io")[(goto-url: 'https://noctimak.itch.io/')]
* (link: "Twitter")[(goto-url: 'https://twitter.com/noctimak')]
* (link: "Instagram")[(goto-url: 'https://www.instagram.com/noctimak/')](storylet: when visits < $run_count)\
- Good morning, good evening, hot tea at will!
The voice pulls you from your thoughts.
Raising you up a little, you see a teapot moving between the rows of seats, floating above the ground.
Beautifully decorated with flowers, the scent of her drink perfumes the wagon, humming as she lowers her head, pouring the hot liquid into cups that she holds out to the left and right. When she reaches your height, two mischievous eyes look at you:
- What perfume?
- Red berries, miss.
A light jet of steam escapes from her spout, and she slips you a white porcelain cup in which a ruby red tea is simmering. You thank her with a nod as she walks away, continuing to sing in a low voice, disappearing into the mouth of the other wagon.
The sweet taste stays on your tongue for a long time.
(link-goto:"You take your time to savour the drink","Go to next beat")(storylet: when visits < $run_count)\
You get up to join the restaurant.
You've been sitting there for too long, you've had time to see your neighbor across the small table change his head four times, and the landscape has lost its pink hue to the colors of the volcanoes you're crossing. The ambiant air is hot, almost burning your throat when you try to inhale
The hallway is poorly lit as you move forward, following the movement of the swinging, almost swaying car.
You feel a fresh wind, too cold for the region you're passing by. When you look up, a shadow is stading in front of you.
You blink.
It has disappeared.
You return to your seat without a drink : it can wait.
(link-goto:"You grab your plaid to hide the ice covering one of your shoulder","Go to next beat")(storylet: when visits < $run_count)\
- Orion, here!
A drooling head bumps against your knee, and by reflex, you put your hand on his head, ready to pat what's covering the floor with saliva.
Two tails shake, happy, and beat the air when your fingers starts to run across its neck.
- Orion, come back!
A tall candle appears : her deep voice escaping from the wick and tapping her foot while holding a thread, she seems impatient.The dog turns his head, waving his ears to listen to her request.
Her spark turns red as she tries to attract her companion, but it stubbornly drools on your shoes, before finally surrendering.
A small smile escapes your lips as you watch its tails continue to beat the rhythm of its hike, and you notice that the ground under its paws melts slightly.
(link-goto:"Your shoes, on the other hand, are fine.","Go to next beat")(storylet: when visits < $run_count)\
It's raining.
Purple and blue drops are running down the window, racing to the bottom of the panel. You bet on the purple, and pray for your godess of storms to help them win.
The noise is calming.
The rain drums louder and louder when you finish your prayer. You forget sometimes the power of words.
It's a curtain of gray: only the shadows of fields and buildings appear from time to time, reminding you that the train is one universe and outside another one.
With your head against the glass, the vibrations soothe you: the noise of other travelers fades away when you fall into your thoughts
(link-goto:"Only you and the raging water remain.","Go to next beat")(storylet: when visits < $run_count)\
- What do you want to eat ?
- I did not know we had a meal. Do you have by any chance a menu ?
The penguin nods yes and hands to you a laminated sheet of cream paper.
He steps back to ask other passengers their order while you take a look.
(color: #551911)[Menu //"Oberon"//]
//a) Croquette de poulet romain et d'olives noires de la région de Tarnmoil.
b) Salade de sarrasin à la cardamome, accompagnée d'aubergine.
c) Rouleaux aux raisins et noix de pecan.//
(color: #394F49)[Menu //"Titania"//]
//a) Soupe de crabe et pois chiche.
b) Quiche aux racines (oignons, carottes, patates)
c) Muffin à la prune//
(color: #65743A) [Menu //"Hyrsam"//]
//a) Sauté de légumes du temps (carottes naines blanches, asperges de la lune et courgettes de la mer)
b) Fromage de chèvre des Montagnes de l'Ombre
c) Pain complet des Satyres et vin de myrtilles//
It's in a language you can't read.
You recognise some words, from... other trips. But nothing that can make sense.
After some time, the penguin comes back :
- What will you take ?
- The Hyrsam, thank you.
When your meal arrives, you see vegetables and a what seems to be some goat-cheese, with bread and red wine. It seems delicious.
You take your fork and start to eat.
(link-goto:"Finish your meal and thank the archfey for this supper.","Go to next beat")Curiosity pushes you, and you follow the animal, even if in a corner of your mind the stopwatch of the thirty minutes before the start ticks slowly, continuously.
But the aura that emanates from this cat is a silent order, and you follow, you follow for a few long minutes, feeling changes happening around you.
You know, however, that if by misfortune, you stop staring at your guide, you will get lost for good and will not be able to retrace your steps.
When the hike finally stops, you realize that you have held your breath all along the way. Your inhalation makes a huge noise in the silence and the cat meows in mirror. It's a non-dialogue: nothing was really exchanged, but at the same time, you know it was an answer.
Only then do you dare to stand up and admire around you: the brick floor has become grassy ground, and a simple stump is wedged in the middle of the clearing.
Another meow breaks the silence.
- Beautiful, right ?
- Indeed.
You know you should answer everything this cat says to you.
The black feline observes its paw and then beckons you to move forward to the stump. A glass bell rests on top: smoke swirls inside, drawing strange volutes.
You grasp it, and a satisfied purr accompanies you when everything goes dark :
- Remember: now, you are never truly alone in your night.
(link-goto:"Go to next beat")(storylet: when visits < $run_count)\
While walking around, you look into the row of seat in front of you.
In the first one, you spot only an old men reading. He does not acknowledge your presence, and you back up, heading to the other rows.
On the next one, you see two girls, both asleep.
One is wrapped in gray wings, her head on the thighs of her companion, face into her stomach.
The second has her head against the window, but you can spot small dark horns, hidden in her hair.
Fingers entwined, they seem in peace.
A smell of burned wood and citrus fills the air around them, easing your tension and bringing back your energy.
You look at them with more attention and can only smile : sometimes, the only way to be yourself is to lose everything to the unknown.
(link-goto:"You whisper a prayer for their love to last until the world is ready for it.","Go to next beat")You don’t really recognise yourself.
When did you have all these eyes ? The last time you checked, they were only four, all brown. Obviously, they moved a bit with the years, but nothing like what's facing you.
Now, eight are looking right at your reflection, blue like oceans and rivers.
Your skin seems different too : near your neck, the texture slightly shift, becoming more stiff, rigid, like scales growing under the soft epidermis.
You lower your head to look at your hands : tattoos appeared.
When you look back at the mirror, your image chaged again.
A grin deforms your lips, letting you catch a glimps of fangs, while your eyes glows red.
You play with the mirror a couple more time :
First, you grow horns.
Second, they become silver antlers, glowing softly.
Third and your look at nothing more then a shadow.
You stop playing when you feel like you can't remember what's really your face.
(link-goto:"You stumble back to your seat, a strange shiver going down your spine. ","Go to next beat")
As you walk back to your seat, ($corrupt: "you feel a soft body brushing against your leg.", 13) You lower your eyes ($corrupt: "to meet the deep blue stare of the bean that looks up to you.", 10) With its two pointy ears and four small legs, ($corrupt: "it feels almost dog-like", 13), but still made of simple and round shapes, not to say of the red skin and one blue eye. ($corrupt:"You hear someone call for it from the other side of the Wagon, but you", 13) might have time for ($corrupt:"a few pats.", 15)
(link:"Pats")[Pats(live:1s)[(append:?woof)[eye]]]
(link:"Let it go")[Isn't it too soon?(click-goto:"eyes", "Yalaarn, the eyeless 3")]
[
[[Yalaarn, the eyeless 3]]](comment|
(text-rotate-z:9)[]<woof|(set: $line to "")\
It is this time again, when the (live:0.5s)[($corrupt:"suns",25)] and (live:0.5s)[($corrupt:"moons",25)] dance around and you changes all at once. This (live:0.5s)[($corrupt:"sunset",30)] is sure to be
You lift your eyes, seeking your corpse before it starts coming down. Your body is the earth. Is seems to be ? [[ even darker
As both you #### warmth coming through you. [}[( Their decomposition has started.
You see see see see your body is the earth that my spores feed on
You feel like you should try to exist(click:"eyes")[
(force-input-box: bind $line, "=XXX=", "I am happy to see you, Yalaarn")]
(live:0.5s)[(if: $line is "I am happy to see you, Yalaarn")\
[(link-goto:"It seems like she liked it","Go to next beat")] ](storylet: when visits < $run_count)\
\
You step outside the train with a strange sense of nostalgia. You don't remember if you've ever stepped foot in this town, but you've definitively heard of villages of this scale.
Since it's not big and you've got a while before the train comes back, you wonder if you should spend a bit of time exploring
(link-goto: "You'd rather wait in the train","Skip to next beat")
[[Spend some time in the village->Train station]]You are at the train station.
---
You stand at the entrance of a train station. The long building is simply plopped on the side of the town, without much to see from here. Before you, a large road goes toward the [[town center->further east]]. You're pretty sure you see a plaza over there. Perpendicular to it, you see a road going [[further east->back alleys]] into the village. Of course, you're free to ignore both and go into the [[back alleys->town center]].
(link-goto: "You can always choose to go back to your seat.", "Go to next beat")You are in the east of town.
---
You stand near a big building, the biggest you've seen here. Its architecture too is a bit more modern than what you expected from this kind of town.
On the front of it's cuboid shape, you see the words "museum of passages". [[You might be curious enough to visit it->town center]].
Or you might just [[go back->cafe]]You are in the back alleys
---
Where you expected a weird atmosphere and maybe thugs, the back alleys are calm and pretty normal. They're just nebulous, small paths. You enjoy the uneven stones and the road and the occasionnal bridge over water, but comes a time when you'll [[end up out of them->cafe]], unless you [[enter the shady bar on the side->Train station]] You are in the town center
---
The plaza in the heart of the town is shaped like an octogon, breaking down into multiple roads that acts as the veins of the village, carrying life in every single building out there.
At its center, a decoration stares you down in the shape of multiple wooden archs of varying heigths supporting an house with no door. You wonder if the town chief lives here.
On one side, a cafe's manager lifts his fishbowl head toward you. He might be wondering if you're a client. [[You might be->museum]].
Right next to the cafe, a road leads you further east, to what seems like the only cultural service of this place : [[a museum->back alleys]].You are in a strange museum
---
Strange indeed this museum is. It's theme is passages, and reading about every step of this story and what the authors meant would be really cool if you could understand any of it. |!)[Also what the fuck is a babamogus.]
You let your mind guide you through the empty, square rooms. Between the white walls, the gray floor and ceiling and the conscious effort to make everything look square and boring, you're absolutely unable to say how big this place is.
(link:"You wander about for a while")[=
You see a small window leading to a beautiful garden. [[Maybe going there would be more fun->museum]]. Maybe you should just [[keep going in circles->Train station]]You are in a cafe
---
The smell of multiple hot beverages enters your nose. The place is cosy, lit in a soft orange by the light hitting on wooden walls. The room is more packed than you thought, with multiple groups of teenagers and elders sitting on cushions and chairs around the place. It's a very nice place, the kind you'd like to [[spend time in->museum]].
The boss's exasperated look tells you however that you might be one too much for him to handle. [[Maybe you should go back->town center]] {
(set: $events_left to it + 1)
(if: (open-storylets:)'s length <= 1)
[
(goto:"End")
]
(else:)[==
(if:$next_is_event)
[
(if:$events_left > 0)
[
(set: $next_is_event to false)
(set: $events_left to $events_left-1)
(goto: (either: ...(open-storylets: where its tags contains 'Event'))'s name)
]
(else:)
[
(go-to:"End")
]
]
(else:)
[
(set: $next_is_event to true)
(goto: (either: ...(open-storylets: where its tags contains 'Transition'))'s name)
]
[[End]] For ref purposes
}(storylet: when visits < $run_count)\
\
You notice him as soon as he enters the wagon. There haven't been a stop in ages yet he looks like he just got here, turning around his head in search for a free seat. His modern, high class suit constrasts with the overall casualness of your co-passengers. You wonder where his chimney's smoke diseappears to.
(link:"Invite him to seat in front of you")[=''Invite him to seat in front of you''
Well why not after all ? It's not like you're keeping your paired seat for a companion. You attract his attention and points at the place, to which he answers with what seems like a grateful stare.
He sits in front of you.
(link:"- So,")[=''- So,'' why are you traveling?
You didn't really expect him to be the talkative type, but it's not like you expected him not to be the talkative type either. You ponder the question for a second. Is he asking for the destination of your travels? The metaphysical meaning of journeying? Or...
(link:"- I guess I'm going somewhere")[=''- I guess I'm going somewhere''
- Aren't we all, in a train? Well, I say that but I myself am not. In fact, I find it both funny and interesting to be in a train and yet not to be going anywhere or anywhen.
(link:"- Then why are you traveling ?")[=''- Then why are you traveling ?''
- Am I traveling? You might be moving from place to place, but me, I'm always in the same train. Only the passengers change. Then again I guess I'm traveling from passenger to passenger, talking for a bit to whoever invites me to sit - thank you again.
As he says that, he brings his gloved hand to his windows and wipes of a bit of mist. The house that sits on his shoulders lifts up to plant itself in your eyes once more.
- I've met many people this time. Some with cute pets, some with loved ones. Some who works here and some who's installed here to work. Did you know there's an active circus in car 4 ? Or a divine one moving around ? Maybe they'll be stops in your travels, maybe not.
(link:"- Oh, I get it")[=''- Oh, I get it''
You give your ticket to the controller.
- Thank you for this talk, dear traveler. Have a safe journey.
(link-goto:"And he went to search for another soul","Go to next beat")(storylet: when visits < $run_count)\
\
The train slows down while approching the station.
Some people leave their seat, taking with them their lugages, while others anonymous faces enter your car.
You don't move.
You don't feel like it : something in the air tells you to keep your body inside the safety of your chair.
While everyone is boarding and deboarding, your gaze get lost on the landscape, focusing on nothing, just looking at the orange maple
It starts slowly.
First, you feel like the ground is shaking. Not a lot, but enough for you to have a tremor in your legs.
Then, you see it : a masked crowd, walking in silence while tapping a rythm with sticks.
A gray and silver crowd, moving as one along the road.
They make no sound, and you can't help it : your eyes keep following the mass like moth tries to follow a light.
In the center, you spot a golden and white figure, seated on flowers, holding a sword....
And all this world is heading to the lake.
[[Look at the girl-> Girl (alternative universe)]]
[[Look at the town-> Town (past)]]You decide to focus on the golden figure on the center.
Short black hair cut without any form are framing her face, her hands tied to a long sword.
You think you can see tears running down her cheeks, but she's holding herself like even the world could not access her pain.
You still watch with attention the details : a small crown decorated with blues gems placed on her forehead ; the delicate interlacing of vine tattoos on her arms, describing scenes from an another time ; the red stain blooming bigger and bigger on her stomach.
You make eye contact.
The scene change, and you can't go against it.
Candles right in the entrance of house, with the noise of a dog barking in the background. An open door leads you to a beautiful garden, full of herbs, full of life.
A white dog appears, running in front of a small child who tries to catch him, sprinting on his tiny legs. You hear a laugh.
Some beautiful laugh.
A couple is in the kitchen, looking at their safe world : a house, a child, some sweet summer afternoon. The man has a long beard and some work clothes.
The women has long, dark and braided hair, decorated with red strings.
You make eye contact again.
You feel pulled back, as the train start moving back to continue its trip.
(link-goto:"You feel uneasy. Nothing is really wrong, but you feel like nothing is really right either about what you saw.","Go to next beat")You decide to ignore what's being the main attraction and look at the building surronding it.
The houses are in dark wood, old stone.
Stories are carved into their walls, forgotten by their owners, forgotten by the town folks, forgotten by everyone.
Some are even abandonned : there is no light behind their closed doors, nothing on the facade.
Then something shift.
You see the buildings changing, being painted again, people coming to live in them.
A pub opens : men and women go in and out of the bar, sometimes sober, more often drunk. Door-to-door saleperson are walking with flowers, and you hear a band start their show : fiddle, drums and voices joins the town noise.
Happiness.
The town is happy, as happy as a small population can be.
While you look, you feel pulled back, and the train starts moving again : the house are back to their old aspect, with nothing more then dust and memories.
(link-goto:"The rythm of the drums stays in your ears for a long time. So long you quite forget it's there.","Go to next beat")