System Failure

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<span class="title">system failure</span> <span class="author">by <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/systemfailure-if" target="_blank">ME</a></span>

<<nobr>> <li>[[profile]]</li> <li>[[characters]]</li> <li><<link "credits">><<script>> Dialog.setup("Credits"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("credits").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></li> <</nobr>>

<<set $chapter to "prologue">><<if visited() is 1>><<if settings.notifications>><<notify 3s>>Notifications active!<</notify>><</if>><</if>>\ As the echoes of her accusation hung in the air, he felt the weight of her words crash against the shore of his conscience. The room witnessed the aftermath of their emotional turmoil, a battlefield littered with the ruins of their once-intact sanctuary. Tables were overturned, chairs were discarded, and shattered glass displayed the scene played out in a million different angles. Her anguished voice became a tempest, threatening to destroy any semblance of peace that remained within him. Each syllable was a sharpened dagger, ready to pierce the tangled web of emotions and thoughts that entwined in his heart. The room, now a chaotic scene of their shared agony, reflected the devastation that had encased the once warm home. In the midst of the chaos, he remained silent, absorbing the storm of her emotions without offering any defense. Her tears flowed down her rosy cheeks, removing the remnants of makeup, a tribute to her gradual erosion of resolve. Nonetheless, her green eyes, glistening with unshed tears, seemed to radiate an ethereal beauty heightened by the unstable atmosphere. It was one of the only things he could deem himself worthy of focusing on. Despite the disarray around them, he avoided engaging in the verbal sparring match that was practically handed to him. The apology, tinged with remorse, hung in the air as a silent acknowledgment of the cracks that had formed in the foundation of their relationship. He realized, perhaps too late, that he didn't deserve her, but the gravitational pull between them was undeniable. As her hands pounded against his chest, he clutched her with desperate tenderness, his touch seeking solace within the wreckage. Her wet clothes clung to him. The only sounds in the deafening silence were the whimpering noises fleeing from her lips, which filled the void left by his fractured silence. The space, once filled with shared laughter and whispered confessions, was now overshadowed by the haunting echoes of their strained relationship. Despite the turmoil, he clung to her, knowing that some apologies were too heavy to say and that the path to redemption would be paved with the delicate threads of their shared vulnerabilities. And hidden in the comptuer, where their neon lights reflected against the scarred walls, they swore, nobody would be able to willfully break her down and snuff out that flame that withered away in her broken mind. ---- <span class="next"><<button "Next" "poem">><</button>></span>

/* define your story variables here */ remember to use flirt_label and info_label <<set $daringCautious to 50>> <<set $honestyDeceit to 50>> <<set $optimPessi to 50>> <<set $stubbornReasonable to 50>>

/* custom widgets go in here */ <<widget "are">><<switch $plural>><<case true>>are<<case false>>is<</switch>><</widget>> <<widget "were">><<switch $plural>><<case true>>were<<case false>>was<</switch>><</widget>> <<widget "s">><<switch $plural>><<case true>><<case false>>s<</switch>><</widget>> <<widget "es">><<switch $plural>><<case true>><<case false>>es<</switch>><</widget>> <<widget "re">><<switch $plural>><<case true>>re<<case false>>s<</switch>><</widget>> <<widget "ve">><<switch $plural>><<case true>>ve<<case false>>s<</switch>><</widget>>

---- COMING SOON

Another page to do whatever you want with! I really just wanted another page to fill out the footer menu<3 ---- !Heading 1 !!Heading 2 !!!Heading 3 <<cycle "$cycling" autoselect>> <<option "Cycling link 1">> <<option "Cycling link 2">> <<option "Cycling link 3">> <</cycle>> <<textbox "$textbox" "Type here...">><<button "Submit">><</button>> * List item 1 * List item 2 * List item 3 <<set $statone to 50>><<set $stattwo to 50>>\ !Stats <div class="stat-bar-group"> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-left">Stat One $statone%</div> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-right">Stat Two $stattwo%</div> <div class="stat-bar" id="statone-stat"></div> </div></div>\ Make sure to tag the stats page (& any similar pages) with 'noreturn' and include a return link like the one below to avoid an infinite loop! <<button "Return" $return>><</button>> /* or <<link "Return" $return>><</link>> */ <li><<link "testing">><<script>> Dialog.setup("Testing"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("testing").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></li> <<button "Return" $return>><</button>>

[[Sugarcube 2 Documentation|https://www.motoslave.net/sugarcube/2/docs]] [[OpenDyslexic Font by Abbie Gonzalez|https://opendyslexic.org]] [[Notify Macro by Chapel|https://github.com/ChapelR/custom-macros-for-sugarcube-2]] [[Live Update Macro by Cycy|https://github.com/cyrusfirheir/cycy-wrote-custom-macros]]

<<set $they to "They">><<set $plural to true>>\ Here's an example of how the 'Live Update' macro by Cycy works: *<<link "She/Her">><<set $they to "She">><<set $plural to false>><<update>><</link>> *<<link "He/Him">><<set $they to "He">><<set $plural to false>><<update>><</link>> *<<link "They/Them">><<set $they to "They">><<set $plural to true>><<update>><</link>> <<liveblock>> $they <<are>> super fun and love<<s>> cupcakes. <</liveblock>> You can also use it to update the dialog labels! Try it by opening the settings menu and toggling the dialog labels button :) <<liveblock>> *<<link "Choice with flirt label $flirt_label" "4">><</link>> *<<link "Choice with info label $info_label" "4">><</link>> <</liveblock>>

<center>i should have been the only one i should have been the only on i should have been the only o i should have been the only i should have been the onl i should have been the on i should have been the o i should have been the i should have been th i should have been t i should have been i should have been e i should have been en i should have been eno i should have been enou i should have been enoug i should have been enough i should have been enough f i should have been enough fo i should have been enough for i should have been enough for y i should have been enough for yo i should have been enough for you - catarine hancock</center> ---- <span class="next"><<button "Next" "ch1 start">><</button>></span>

Some helpful resources: [[Sugarcube 2 Documentation|https://www.motoslave.net/sugarcube/2/docs]] [[Twine Cookbook|https://twinery.org/cookbook]] [[Beginner’s Guide to Twine 2.1|http://www.adamhammond.com/twineguide]] [[The Twine Grimoires|https://gcbaccaris.itch.io]] [[Quick Twine Tutorial|https://catn.decontextualize.com/twine]] [[r/twinegames|https://www.reddit.com/r/twinegames]] Macros/Sample code: [[Chapel's Custom Macros|https://github.com/ChapelR/custom-macros-for-sugarcube-2]] [[Cycy's Custom Macros|https://github.com/cyrusfirheir/cycy-wrote-custom-macros]] [[HIEv's Sample Code|https://qjzhvmqlzvoo5lqnrvuhmg-on.drv.tw/UInv/Sample_Code.html#Main%20Menu]] Other Sugarcube 2 templates: [[1 by Cerberus|https://ccrberus.itch.io/twine-sugarcube-template]] [[2 by Vahnya|https://vahnya.itch.io/twine-template]] [[3 by Nyehilism|https://nyehilism.itch.io/sugarcube-template]] [[4 by Nyehilism|https://nyehilism.itch.io/twine-template]] [[5 by Strandworks|https://strandworks.itch.io/gradient-template]]

When publishing to itch.io, you have a couple options for how to have your game display in mobile browsers. As a general rule, make sure to choose 'Click to launch in fullscreen' in the 'Embed options' section and click the checkbox to enable 'Mobile friendly' under the 'Frame options'. To force the game to always display in portrait mode on mobile, select 'Portrait' for the orientation. To display in landscape mode, select 'Landscape'. Easy peasy<3 Note: The latest update to the template has styling for both portrait and landscape modes for mobile, so have fun playing around with each to decide which option works best for your game! <span class="next"><<button "Next" "5">><</button>></span>

---- COMING SOON

<<set $chapter to "chapter1">>\ The bartender's hardened fingers, calloused by years of handling glasses and pouring drinks, tapped rhythmically against the stale, rotting countertops of the old bar. The air in the establishment carried a peculiar blend of nostalgia and neglect as if the ghosts of lively conversations from yesteryears still lingered in the worn-out corners. Eyes, weathered by time and the stories they had witnessed, danced across fleeting picture frames that adorned the molding walls. Each frame held a moment frozen in time – a snapshot of patrons reveling in the ambiance of the past. The bar, though not the cleanest establishment in the north downtown of NeoPlex, held a certain charm, a timeless quality that drew people in despite the visible signs of wear and tear. This place had its heyday, advertised fairly well a couple of generations ago when the city was a different landscape. Back then, it was a bustling hub, a social nexus where the money flowed in as patrons gathered to enjoy the unique atmosphere. The citizens, diverse in their backgrounds, shared stories over clinking glasses, laughter echoing through the wooden beams. It was a haven where the community converged, a cherished spot where regulars formed bonds that transcended the walls of the tavern. However, as the city evolved and new businesses sprouted like mushrooms alongside the old tavern, the flow of money became as transient as the wind. The once-thriving establishment found itself gradually overshadowed by the glitz and glamour of more contemporary venues. The patrons became sporadic, the conversations muted, and the echoes of laughter faded into the background noise of the city's bustling progress. Yet, despite the decline, there was something magnetic about the place. The worn bar stools and creaky floorboards told stories of a bygone era, and those who still frequented the tavern did so in the hopes of spotting something interesting amid the faded glory. It was a place where the past and present converged, where the memories of a once-vibrant community lingered, making it a destination for those who sought authenticity in a city increasingly defined by its ever-changing face. ---- <span class="next"><<button "Sigh" "ch1pt1">><</button>></span>

A heavy sigh escaped my lips, a weary exhalation slipping through the old cracks that adorned my weathered lips. In that moment, I found myself adrift in a sea of internal chaos, unable to discern the intricate webs of my own mood. The weight of the day, perhaps the weight of life itself, pressed upon me, leaving me in a state of mental disarray. I couldn't even create the image of what I had for breakfast that morning, if indeed I had managed to scrounge up a meal at all. The pervasive scarcity of resources in NeoPlex hung over everyone like a grim shadow, casting a relentless gloom over the pursuit of even the most basic necessities. Money, that elusive currency of survival, had become a rare commodity, slipping through the fingers of the majority like grains of sand. Only the privileged 1%, the untrusted citizens who had clawed their way to the top through dubious means, seemed to enjoy their luxury, built upon the ill-gotten gains and the rotten legacy left by their ancestors. In the midst of this economic strife, which seemed to be the length of many years, the tightness of my own financial problems began to squeeze the breath out of my aspirations. I questioned the very purpose of my presence in this dilapidated space, seated alone on a chair that bore the scars of countless past encounters. The room, a testament to neglect and decay, surrounded me with its tattered remnants, as if mirroring the frayed edges of my own existence. As I sat there, contemplative and worn, the drip-drip sound of water escaping from a leaky ceiling provided an erratic metronome to the silence that enveloped the desolate space. The pungent aroma of vomit, lingering just four steps away, added another layer to the oppressive atmosphere. It was a stark reminder of the harsh reality of life in NeoPlex, where survival often meant enduring not only the scarcity of resources but also the degradation of one's surroundings. Yet, despite the overwhelming circumstances, I remained, perhaps tethered by an unspoken hope or a sense of stubborn resilience. Alone in that worn-out chair, I grappled with the questions that echoed in the recesses of my mind, wondering what kept me anchored in a place where the very air seemed tainted with desperation and decay. ---- <span class="next"><<button "Ahem" "ch1pt2">><</button>></span>

A slight cough, almost lost in the ambient murmur of the depressing surroundings, jolted me out of the tilted thoughts threatening to spill out of my mind. Slowly, the hand that had been serving as a support beam for my face dropped, and I turned to face the direction of the worker behind me. Familiarity with the gritty atmosphere of "The Atlantis" enabled me to recognize the tainted and fading tattoo that adorned Sauni's forearm. She, the supposed owner and bartender of this run-down establishment, was neither someone I was happy to see nor angry to see. I silently studied the wording that paraded across her skin, the ink of the tattoo spelling out a succinct mantra: 'Never Talk, Never Tell.' The significance of those words, etched permanently on her forearm, lingered in the air like an unspoken commandment. The tattoo, an intimate part of her, held a cryptic message that begged interpretation. Whether it served as a reminder to herself that actions carried consequences, or if it reflected a deeper philosophy guiding her choices, remained open to the subjective lens of interpretation. Sauni's scar, a visible testament to the struggles she had faced, ran down her cheek and connected with the edge of her top lip. The scar, like an untold story carved into her flesh, was a silent narrative that hinted at a history of battles fought and challenges overcome. To any perceptive observer, encountering the scar would inevitably lead them to the conclusion that Sauni had faced adversity head-on, the visible mark on her face embodying the consequences of a life lived on the edge. "Either order something or stop taking up my bar space." The sharp command sliced through the air, a direct and no-nonsense declaration that demanded attention. Sauni's voice carried an authoritative tone that resonated with years of experience dealing with the varied clientele that stumbled through the doors of "The Atlantis." Her words, though effective, only elicited a slight response from me; the bags stationed under my eyes twitched ever so slightly in acknowledgment. It was a peculiar request, especially considering the sparse population within the confines of the establishment. The few scattered patrons occupied seats here and there, each nursing their own solitude in the dimly lit ambiance. The surroundings bore the scars of neglect, and my gaze casually grazed past the frame of a forgotten dartboard, its once-vibrant colors now muted by layers of dust and disinterest. The worn-out darts, seemingly abandoned mid-game, stood as silent witnesses to countless forgotten competitions and camaraderie that had once thrived within these walls. A lone figure sat nearby, an aura of anticipation surrounding them as if they were waiting for some unsuspecting soul to walk by and fall into their money trap. The predatory gleam in their eyes hinted at an ulterior motive, a scheme carefully concealed beneath a veil of casual indifference. The dim light cast elongated shadows, accentuating the clandestine nature of the scene unfolding. *[[Order a drink.|ch1pt3.1]] *[[Go play with darts.|ch1pt3.2][$daringCautious +=3]] *[[Simply leave.|ch1pt3.3]]

---- COMING NEXT WEEK so sorry but like, these 3 choices are very very different so writing <3

I cast a glance back over my shoulder, my gaze instinctively drawn to the peculiar figure occupying the beer-stained chair. Sauni, who was the only bartender to seemingly possess the ability to decipher the unspoken thoughts of her patrons, emitted a snort from behind me. It echoed in the air, a sound laden with a mixture of amusement and incredulity, as if she, too, couldn't fathom the idea of anyone willingly entertaining the likes of them. "Yeah, okay, go get yourself a stalker," Sauni remarked, her words laced with a hint of sarcasm. I responded with a subtle eye roll, my finger tapping idly against the spruce bar. Despite the implied warning, my curiosity lingered, a nagging itch that begged to be scratched. My gaze returned to the split-dyed head of my potential acquaintance. There was no clear rhyme or reason as to why I felt compelled to engage with this mysterious figure, to unravel the layers shrouded in uncertainty. Perhaps it was the allure of the unknown, the magnetic pull of a story waiting to be uncovered. Sauni, in her own way, must have sensed this shared sentiment, as the patron remained comfortably settled in the corner, seemingly unfazed by the judgmental glances that occasionally flitted their way. "Then just kick them out?" The suggestion hung in the air like a daring challenge, a proposition to cut through the awkward tension that had settled like a fog over the dimly lit tavern. A beat of silence ensued, the rag in Sauni's hand freezing mid-motion as she used it to polish the beer jug. Their eyes locked in a dangerous dance of defiance, an unspoken exchange transpiring between them. It was a moment of confrontation, a subtle battle playing out with raised eyebrows as if each party was internally sizing up the other to determine the next move. The air crackled with palpable energy, a standoff between her and the observer who had been occupying the area. In that suspended moment, it was as if the fate of the entire interaction hinged on the unspoken agreement taking shape between them. The lingering silence seemed to amplify the gravity of their silent communication. "Touche..." Sauni conceded a single word that held the weight of acknowledgment. It was an admission, a recognition that perhaps the mysterious figure in the corner was not as easily dismissed as initially assumed. The raised eyebrow relaxed, and for a fleeting instant, it seemed like an invisible olive branch was extended amid this unspoken negotiation. "Exactly," I chimed in, breaking the silence with a small chuckle. The tension dissipated as I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth, a subtle signal that the atmosphere had shifted. The stool beneath me scraped back, the sound of wood against wood reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard, as I rose from my seat. ---- <span class="next"><<button "Hmm" "ch1pt3.2.1">><</button>></span>