upload everyone's quest deliverables to the catalogue archive page

find out how to make a music player work for this page! and pick a tune :-)

help the ontonauts publish their pages ig

Aaaanother issue: mice report sightings of dark cheese that impedes critical paths. Oh-ho! Mice!

look at that little man go. fuck. yes.

anthology of the killer works for a ton of reasons but one of the biggest things it does right is never concentrating all the energy in my entire body for an entire week just to gather the power to detransition for characterizing the killer beyond a few tiny things. to unmask them exactly 5 seconds, take a single sip of dr pepper 10 and its 10 manly calories, and would be to humanize them in a way that removes their role within mushroom idle game hour 1: +3 spores per year. you lose some spores after an animal eats you. the narrative and its haunting allegory for the way every aspect of retransition in an instant. it tastes like normal diet dr. pepper and i just feel kind of silly and capitalism (and societies at large, inasmuch as they’re ruled by fear) eventually will be rolled up into embarrassed about the whole thing. as soon as my tits have grown a death-worship katamari used to justify police action for the exact same reason, down to extremely similar metaphors (drinky birds being some of you are turned into a stew mushroom idle game hour 5,000: your machines powered by liquid and v1 being a machine powered by back i experimentally take another sip and drop dead instantly, metaphysically confirming that trans women are women at the cost of blood), ultrakill explores the self-perpetuating cycle of violence by not only humanizing the killer but letting us play as my life. for millennia my followers will wear necklaces and adorn their houses with tiny little dr pepper cans in them. others speculate on v1’s motivation or seek to take advantage of it, but we the audience know honor of my sacrificei never actually "Introduced" my self ! i wanna. and i wanna know who all its only true motivation, rendered desperately on the screen when we let it take too much damage: “i don’t want came here because of me so im tying my name's together... if you came here from my posting and to die.” that’s all it is: self-preservation, and the endless hunger it takes to maintain you see this blease say hi or like react or some that violent self. ultrakill works because for all the beautiful worlds we glimpse and thing i want to Know any way. who am i.... ? they call me the all the divine politics we cross paths with, we only get the killer’s perspective. why explore the dead cities of lust when jean-ius but im not wearing jeans and my shorts are elastic (♫) my shorts are elastic (♫) oh i wear the pants but i'm not all the blood is right here? why respond to anyone’s dialogue when they’re all just trying to interpret in doing much (♫) with the pants that i'm wearing P-A-N-T my shorts are elastic my shorts are elastic (♫) - they might be gi-pants (tmbjean), "the jeanius" ellienamored i sewed some vain a simple force of unmitigated hunger for more? the eroticism of violence leads angels and little leggings out of some crazy yarn they call the thread of spider webs and silkworm striiiing now they compliment my zine stars alike to eventually realize that what the people want cargos and the skirts all have embargos and they all scream, "dress me, son of g-d" i destroyed the belt econ'my with my one-size-fits high-knee pants and isn’t order, nor is it an answer to their fear. no, they want the cycle. to live in harmony and i'm diversifying into sooooocks now listen close to me, pearl¹ i've just gotta sell to tgirls so they'll all scream "dress me, never harm anyone would be ideal, whether you take quiet refuge under minos’ rule or son of g-d" i'm like dieworkwear, so they say but mr. workwear has nothing more to sayyyy so objectivity is dead, we all just really enjoy marcie’s world, if it could ever be titillating. so the will of the Father that bends the angels to know now it's true that you dress like me and i dress like me i sewed some comfy stockings out of some crazy cotton balls i found incredible cruelty is the same as the will of the corporate interests that turn marcie into a in the remains of a joanne's they were left there! they were gratis now my murderer: to spill blood, excite the senses, create fear and banish it only to create more fear release of the last of us 9 goes swimmingly, once again successfully propagandizing the beauty of to banish again and again and again. there has to be clothes all symbol status and the world screams, "dress me, son of g-d!" oh, yes, the world someone you’re better than, or how could you win? they also feature the same character under two different names: the screams "dress me, son of g-d!" ------ (Genius Note: ¹ A reference to Sponge Bob. The singer is presumed to be Mr. Crabs, which cool policeman / gabriel. folks, “You have a twelve o’clock with the Zampanini project lead, a one o’clock with our help-desk manager, and is evident from the fact that he's telling all of this to his daughter. This a two o’clock with the Eyedlr head of operations.” “SO, THREE HOURS WITH ALT, RIGHT?” “That is correct. But after that… I matches the themes of greed in the song because he likes see you’ve penciled in a ‘three-bro-clock’ lunch meeting with the Intern. A personal money.) (9 reviewers marked this as missing something) ellienamored Article Man Article Man Wears all the clothes a party boy can What’s he matter, or…?” “...I DUNNO, DUDE. HE JUST CALLED ME UP AND TOLD mushrooms. princess peach’s negotiations with you go off without a hitch. you ME TO MEET HIM FOR LUNCH. HE SAID HE HAD A WAY TO FIX MY PROBLEMS, BRO…” “...Suspicious. Did now have control over all the foreign policy of the mushroom kingdom. +1% spores per year. the mushroom dimension is you follow up with him in person?” “I EMAILED HIM. I-- AH, SHIT.” “Hm?” “I JUST collapsing from the amount you’re harvesting and you must send the REALIZED. WE CAN’T CALL OUR MAIL SOFTWARE THINGY ‘EMAIL.’ THAT JUST SOUNDS LIKE E-MAIL.” “This did come up at the meeting before wear, it’s not important Article Man Is he a nerd, or is he a jock Is it a statement to mismatch his you turned the room into a maze, yes.” “HA! WHAT A MAZE, THOUGH. THAT WAS THE ONE WHERE I socks? Or do the socks just mismatch him instead Nobody knows, Article Man Clothing Man Clothing Man Clothing Man hates SCATTERED THE SLIDES LIKE PRESIDENT EVIL NOTES, RIGHT?” “It’s called-- yes.” “CLASSIC. ANYWAY HE entirety of 4 mycelium network nodes into the mushroom cloud to fix it. you currently have a 60% success rate. some SAID HE DIDN’T CALL ME AND HAS NO IDEA WHO THAT WAS OR HOW THAT Article Man They swap their outfits, Clothing looks good Clothing Man Business Man Business Man Suit and HAPPENED.” “And you’re still going?” “UH, YEAH? I GOT PROBLEMS UP TO HERE, DUDE.” “Up to your knee? That… can’t tie to talk business, man Usually wears the clothes of a man Business Man He’s got a suit with a clip-on tie A black necktie And a be very many.” “COULD BE BETTER. COULD BE DOWN HERE.” “I’d be surprised if they went all the way black bowtie And when they meet, it’s an restaurant ban Business Man Naked Man Naked Man He stays warm with a backwards fan Naked Man Is it to the floor.” “UH HUH. MAYBE YOU SHOULD GO ALL THE WAY… TO THE MAZE FLOOR!” “...” “...” “Did you a statement, or is it his life? Did he give his clothes to his wife? Who came mean to teleport me somewhere aft--” “I WAS ASKING YOU TO TAKE THE ELEVATOR.” “Oh.” “I THINK up with Naked Man? Mysterious man, Naked Man Clothing Man Clothing Man Clothing Man loves Naked Man Gives him a skirt, Clothing Man twins Clothing Men chatgpt....? yeah, I LEFT A GUY THERE WITHOUT UNLOCKING THE EXITS.” “Oh.” “YOU SHOULD PROBABLY--” “--Yeah.” The South Ontonaut, the Rememberist of Quests, pops a bottle of i chat with my gp about my t. usually i'm trying to make it all go away. DALL-E...? i didn't know champagne, screams at the sound, and nearly fumbles it right out of her trembling hands -- but, fortunately, the they made estrogen that specific.... do the button eyes come included, or-- ah, you wouldn't know... i'll be East Ontonaut, 80N-35, catches it with one of her four robotic extendo-arms. “ADMONISHMENT DISPENSED,” it says, with sure to ask... thank you, ! ellienamored gemini...? well, i'd better get the crew together of you are turned into a stew. gordon ramsey tastes it on the air a wistful smile on its digital display. “I DON’T THINK I’LL GET TO HAVE MORE OF THIS FOR A LONG TIME, AHAHAHAH.” “I guarantee you for a heist... you think we can make it up to the they still have fucking champagne in Arm 1, East,” the West Ontonaut says, sipping a glass of red top of the statue with a stepladder? gosh, i hope they're both still there... thanks wine. (She vastly prefers it to champagne because it looks like for all the tips, friend... ellienamored grok...? i didn't know there could be just blood.) “Plus, how the fuck do you drink anything? Doesn’t it, like, fuck shit up in your internals? Or and spits it out and calls it a bowl of fucking “closeted tgirl in is this some Futurama-type shit where you use it as fuel?” “I POUR IT VERY, VERY CAREFULLY SO IT one of them... well, haha, i guess even one'll make it hard LANDS INSIDE OF THE PITCHER PLANT I HAVE INSTEAD OF A for me to get to the center of the universe and CENTRAL CORE,” 80N-35 calmly explains for the twentieth time this week. “ACCORDING TO MY CALCULATIONS--” “You don’t get the staff of life... i'll have to be prepared...! thanks again, buddy... you've always got my back... ellienamored midjourney…? haha, well, have to say ‘according to my calculations,’ motherfucker. I know you’re a robot,” she maybe… i had fun, though, and so did you, right? we got both the gems out snaps, swishing her drink around. “Can you just talk fucking normally for ten the boys’ locker room who’s still afraid of the raw solitude of showering.” you seconds? I know you’re doing that aesthetic shit just to mess with me.” The South Ontonaut blinks, accidentally overpouring her own drink. “Can you of those sockets so quick i didn’t even realize the ladder broke… plus sneaking all be fucking nice?? Roz, what’s up with you today?” “I CALCULATED THEM. have gained the favor of the transfeminine community! new tower unlocked: control of global it infrastructure. new AND THEN CONSULTED THEM,” 80N-35 whines. “THEY’RE MY CALCULATIONS. I DO NOT DISPENSE LIES.” “Can you the way to steve in the black hole was such a rush… we even got dispense thirty seconds of quiet, Jimmy Fucking Neutron??” Roz bares her sharp teeth, and then downs her whole glass of stitches and stuffing and button eyes… it’s just a shame we lost red wine. “We get it. Skip the science lesson. If you can metabolize it, metabolize it already.” “Roz, seriously,” the Rememberist our bard, haha. maybe that’s what made it so mid… maybe that’s what made it chides. “Can you talk to us?” Roz rolls her eyes. Since she so mid. “And would you say that you’ve always been so Concerned with your Status in the Eyes Of Others? “Mm. And has three of them, that’s 50% more eye roll per eye roll, and the Rememberist finds how long have you been experiencing these Memory Gaps? “Not a Moment of your childhood? Not a Second of this gesture extra withering. “A-are you sad Bones is going away? I thought it? “That doesn’t match my previous notes... is this a Recent Development...? “...So you have no you wanted--” “It’s none of your fucking business, Minotaur,” Roz snaps, topping up her bottle of recollection of Those dreams, then? Of Other Worlds? Of eyes?” “I see—ahem. If you could silence your Pet Bird for wine. “Boo, hoo, we’re losing the robot because she’s going to do her fucking job and go find the a moment... it’s just that it’s A Bit Distracting, and I’m trying to—ahem, if I may—no, you’re not on YouTube target. Should we throw a party? Should we call the crows you keep fucking recording instead of Live, you’re in a Therapist’s Office, and I’d appreciate it if you’d... ha ha. Here I doing anything related to the reason we’re here?” The Rememberist scoffs, offended. “I-- that’s-- I’m-- I’m helping! I-- ability unlocked: remove all safe foraging guides from google listing. (this action will have consequ i make the crows talk to each other! One of them saw the target. We, like, know that! They-- it’s am, Talking To Animals... Let’s take a short Break, please.” This is an arm where every the one that keeps saying Hello YouTube, but--” “They all say that,” Roz city is a floor in an endless parking garage, the sea of cars gradually fading away as says, unimpressed. “Okay but one of them says it more,” the Rememberist says, running a hand the lots further down fill up with mechanical horses, motorcycles, scooters, miniature aircraft, pairs of through her hair. “Ugh. You are IMPOSSIBLE. Fucking-- if you don’t want to participate in the goodbye party, can you just, like… go parked Heelies... and here, on the 79th floor, next to a sign telling you to “Remember Your Parking Spot! HYDRATION ZONE,” the step outside for a moment?” “Yeah,” Roz says, smirking. “I can do that.” She grabs the champagne bottle, ignores the elevator has been commandeered by the Petya Region Branch of the illustrious Ontonaut Program’s newest squad. Only the Rememberist’s bewildered questions, tucks it under her arm, and strolls right out, bringing a laptop with her. “...” 80N-35 a lot of very weird art i dont post anywhere, or that i only post on alt – especially my series of looks heartbroken. “DO I REALLY SOUND LIKE JIMMY NEUTRON?” She does, unfortunately. “OH.” Sorry. The Changeling is still best and brightest Ontonauts receive missions into the important canons – Homestuck, say, where waiting for her lunch date at 3:30 PM. She wishes she one mistake could change the personalities of countless transgender women and the very character selfies that i’m always doing bizarre edits to. but of everything i’ve made or written my had a watch, not to check the time, but simply for tradition. She’d love to be able to tap her feet, sigh, and of countless more other narratives. The most brilliant end up in religious texts or check her watch, but alas -- she’s certain the barista knows she’s looking at even nonfiction, preserving the stories deemed most important to the narrative sphere by a team of experts so obscure that an empty wrist. This is no way to wait for a meeting. People must be staring. Mercifully, though, favorite thing is still, genuinely, unironically, absolutely the photo i took and traced of noelle in the if they are, they certainly stop when the door swings open with a cacophonous jingle and none no record exists of their identities. But they haven’t ruined anything yet, most likely– so they keep making branches, and they other than the CEBro of Eyedol Games herself walks through the entrance of the cafe with a keep recruiting characters, and everything seems to work out just fine. The flourish. She cracks her knuckles, rolls her neck, and lets her Compass Squad has not assembled here to change anything about Zampanio. The gaze sweep the crowd, before shrugging and deciding she has no idea how fact that it’s such a metanarrative tangle is... fine, in the eyes of the Ontonauts, who have far bigger fish to to identify an anonymous caller. “SORRY, BRO,” she projects to the fry. In fact, the place is sort of infamous. The Program’s lost Ontonauts here before, so rarely does entire restaurant. “ICEBREAKER RAN LONG. SOMEONE SLIPPED, AND I THINK I LOST A GUY IN THE POLAR MAZE. NO ONE gm_construct mirror. it speaks to an extremely personal experience of trying out femininity for the KNOWS ABOUT TEAMWORK ANYMORE. LOST ART, DUDE. LOST ART.” The Changeling waves, smiling politely, and the CEBro first time in gmod sandbox lobbies with friends. i had a season 1 ena model that turns on a heel and speed-walks directly towards her with a notably business-y stride. The anyone end up in this inescapable labyrinth of a story. It’s worse than a death sentence – became, without a doubt, how i viewed myself – and my physical body became less Changeling tends to notice these things. She’s had a lot of high-net-worth individuals as clients, and there’s it's an eternal sentence, where even dying won’t save you from coming back to a certain number of digits in your bank account that’ll make anyone move like they’re expecting everyone else to life still trapped in the same infinity. Being drawn into the web means dive out of their way. When her guest arrives, she extends her hand for a handshake, the this is what you are, this is everything you are, this is CEBro’s face reflected twice on her red round glasses as she smiles confidently. “Good afternoon, ma’am. You must be your future, and this is your past. Roz’berry Bioluminescence Natasherd Clover Way reminds her squadmates every Miss--” The CEBro scoffs, punching the Changeling lightly on the shoulder. “DUDE. NOT day that nobody there was tossed into a black hole because they were the best or the brightest. They NECESSARY. MISS ME WITH THAT MISS, YEAH? YEAHHH!” She puts up her hand for a high five, the Changeling were disposable, forgettable, up to the task, and in Roz’s case desperate. She knows full begins to reciprocate, and then the CEBro swings her arm like a golf club. She well that she’s been put on an impossible mission from a high-net-worth client that just delivers a meteoric slap that ricochet s throughout the cafe, turning a few heads, and as the dust settles she wants to see them make a token effort and maybe lose a nods approvingly. Giving the Changeling a thumbs-up, she spins and points towards the barista to order whatever this place calls a few Ontonauts trying their hardest. And she’s going to win anyway, because she doesn’t give “number nine, large.” The Changeling orders only a coffee. When the two have taken their seats, the a fuck what anyone thinks is impossible. The only thing that Changeling sips her coffee. The CEBro bites the head off of one of her dino chicken nuggets, clearly truly may be impossible is getting through to her fucking teammates, because they keep getting immensely satisfied at the order, and then she places the headless reptile back on her plate, folds her hands, and distracted. Holy shit, they’re a bad squad. She clenches her pointy teeth just to keep leans forward. “SO, BRO.” “Yes, ma’am?” “YOU’RE NOT MY INTERN. WHO ARE YOU?” For a moment, the Changeling considers a smile as she spots the South Ontonaut, the Rememberist of Zampanio, meandering towards their all-hands-and-flippers-and-claws meeting twenty minutes lying. It would be easy to convince her-- but she needs to take late with a guest. The Rememberist is fidgeting with a fidget cube, a sly smirk on her the roundabout approach here if she has a chance at success. So, face as she adjusts her shitty tie and continues boasting to whoever the fuck she’s picked up instead, she says the truth with a sly little smirk, baiting her this time. “And then,” she’s in the middle of saying, “I go on the target with a gleam in her eye: “A resurrectionist, ma’am. If you’d like, I could bring the Intern quiz, right? And I’m going through questions, and questions, and questions, and... uh oh. This back to life.” “HE’S FINE. I JUST TALKED TO HIM, LIKE, TODAY, BRO,” the CEBro says, with is going on forever, isn’t it?” She snorts, and the girl she’s laying the charm on actually giggles. “Okay, okay, check and less important as i retreated into that avatar more and more. i’d ask this out. Elevator’s coming up—hey, Roz!” She waves. “Okay if I show Allie around the place?” Roz’berry gives people, eventually, to play gmod with me – even years later, after it was an uninstalled game buried deep in their a terrible poker face, and the Changeling tilts her head ever-so-slightly. “I mean the real Intern, ma’am.” Her her a terribly sarcastic smile, eyes wide and teeth really sharp. “Yeah, no, it’s no fucking eyes flick up. “Or wouldn’t you like to speak with the original Mr. Todd Brian Davidson?” Roz’berry Bioluminescence Natasherd problem! You should give Allie some of our private files while you’re Clover Way is outside the base except for her laptop, a at it. And tell her to take some notes at the fucking meeting.” The few crows, and me. I’m always here. “I know,” Roz says, sighing. “Can you Rememberist gasps, and blushes when Allie cracks up at her surprise. “Shit-- uh, cut away from me again? I was in the middle of something.” No steam library, or that thing half life funny got made in over half a decade(!!) ago. ancient history. people longer surly, now she just sounds exhausted -- and I’d wager it has something to do with the Pesterchum conversation on when’s-- how long do I got ‘til the meeting?” “Negative twenty minutes, asshole.” Roz her computer. She has the chat client open on one half of the screen, a rolls her eyes, smile falling. “So can you tell Allie to fuck off?” Allie tilts note page open on the other, and she’s talking to-- um. Could Roz’berry move her arm, please? “No.” Roz’berry knows I her head, still smiling. “Haha... what’s your beef? Can’t I sit in the corner and hang out?” Roz shoots can still read it, right? “Can you fuck off? Like, seriously. Just give me five minutes where the Rememberist a withering glare, and she looks back, perplexed. Roz gestures to Allie, and the Rememberist shakes her you fuck off.” She’s really letting that mushroom get to her? I’m surprised. “DOC,” she snaps, teeth bared once more. “My fucking business. Am I head a little, still confused. Allie opens her mouth to speak, and Roz blurts it out: “Rememberist, she not allowed to make fucking friends anymore?” It’s just that I’m aware fucking sounds exactly like you. And have you noticed her hair’s just yours, but she’s been conspiring with her fucking friends about deliberately disposing of down?? And you’re the same height?” The Rememberist, who had noticed exactly none of these things, glances at Allie again, and the East Ontonaut, Nessie. I’m aware she considers it to be a roadblock, and I don’t think she’s keeping the Allie waves with a little smirk. The Rememberist waves back automatically, a end of her parole agreement. I also know that she’s aware of where the target is, she silly grin forming on her face. Roz can’t believe this is who she’s stuck with, and she runs a believes. “Fuck do you mean, I believe?” She knows where a target is. “Fuck’s that supposed flipper through her foliage just to make her stress very apparent. “Fucking-- okay. Fine. Sure. Bring her in. Show her to--” She trails off. “No. No, no, fuck, fuck no. You’re-- you’re fucking with me, the base. It’s not like anything I do is secret anyway, is it?” Allie laughs good-naturedly, and Roz immediately recognizes it right? You’re--” I’m not. “SHIT.” She drops the champagne bottle, letting it shatter against the concrete floor of as a copy-paste of the Rememberist’s unmistakable giggle. “I’m not gonna tell anyone, girl. Just curious the empty parking garage, and begins hammering the elevator button, hoping to open it about Remmy’s job, and we wanna grab a little lunch after this. You as fast as possible. She thinks she knows exactly what’s about to happen. She doesn’t know the half of it. I’m certainly know we’re only two floors down from where they park all not going to tell her. "You have... 449... new messages." At 8:45 AM, the Intern arrives in the Eyedol Games parking lot, the food trucks, right?” Her eyes glimmer, and she brushes her bangs out of the way. Roz glances parking his car next to his least-favorite coworker's, who has once again taken his favorite spot. At 8:52 AM, the down at her arm, very aware of the fact that she’s wilting. She’s been getting dizzy these Intern arrives in the Eyedol Games employee lounge, where his least-favorite coworker has already brewed a past few days, and she could really use some plant food. If she watches the whole cooking process pot of his favorite coffee. At 8:56 AM, the Intern finishes his cup of coffee and thanks his through the window... maybe it’d be okay? Maybe. So... fine. Fine. She throws her arms up, whirls around, least-favorite coworker, who graciously smiles and says everyone could use a little pick-me-up today. At 9:00 AM, the Intern and walks towards the elevator. “Just tell her to sign the guestbook,” she snarls, entering the base. The clocks into work and sits down at his desk. His boss has not arrived, and Rememberist watches her go with a blank face, waits for the door he expects she will not be in for some time. Through the to close, and then turns back to Allie with a dopey grin. “Okay, you’re window, he sees that she is deep in conversation with his least-favorite coworker. At 9:02 AM, the Intern checks his voicemail. At 9:03 AM, the gonna, like, you’re gonna love this. Check this—this out. Look. You’re prob’ly wondering why we can Intern lies down on his desk, inhales deeply, and remains there for a little while. At 9:12 AM, the have our office in an elevator. But it’s bigger on the inside. Like Doctor Who.” Allie gasps excitedly, and Intern lifts his head, sees his least-favorite coworker standing directly over remains excited until she sees that the interior is roughly the size of a studio apartment – and him, and straightens his back, eyes wide, alarmed. He smells something like meat. At 9:13 AM, the Intern twice as cramped, because three people are already crammed inside between a grouchily nibbles at an everything bagel with lox and cream cheese -- his favorite toppings -- hastily-assembled hodgepodge of furniture and open filing cabinets. “...Not that much bigger,” the Rememberist admits, and and glares daggers at his least-favorite coworker, who waves back with a pleasant smile. It's still warm, and her guest – who's used to girls the size of mazes, not squeezing into some little the worst part is that it hits the spot. It's so good. But at 9:15 AM, the box – manages to maintain her wide smile as she telepathically talks shit about everyone else Intern still thinks about how much he despises the Neighbor as he begins his arduous task with the first voicemail. It's nearly moved on. but the nights i remember most from those good old days aren’t even the ten minutes. In a different arm, at a different time of day, Roz'berry Bioluminescence in the room to her partner behind her, above her, in front of her, below her, Natasherd Clover Way is still texting. Normally, she tends to limit herself to Fridays, because that's the break and generally all around her. The entity she’s talking to wants to know if they’ve colonized these day for the denizens of Zampanio's mazes and message boards, but lately she's found herself drawn in by a few of newcomers’ minds yet, and Alt just wants some gossip – but for now, that means its minotaurs. She shoots a glare nowhere in particular, hoping to stare me down, and I helpfully inform her working together to keep the Rememberist happy. The best part, Alt notes with a gleam in her eye, is she's looking the wrong direction. There isn't a right direction, but she that the Rememberist isn’t even the weak point of the team. “Zampanioooo is a really fun game, and you should play ones where i ran around baldi’s school with my high school acquaintances and frowns deeper nonetheless, irritated. "Can you leave me alone?" She shouts at the open air, voice it. Zampanio Is A Really Fun Game, and You Should Play It. Why, Zampanio Is reverberating off the walls of the Ontonaut base in the parking garage. A bird outside flies away, startled by the So Good You Should! Play it. Play. Zampanio is so-os. Plp. Zazz,” a black bird chirps, and noise, and Roz rolls her eyes. "I wasn't that loud. You're making shit up, North." She seems to Dr. Fiona Slaughter quietly wonders if anyone’s ever gotten away with A Murder Of Crows. But that’s not think throwing a tantrum will get her what she wants -- or at least bend the laws of reality such a becoming thought for a therapist to have about a patient’s pet, so she that she miraculously becomes less frustrated. Unfortunately, her snappishness comes not from my narration, which continues to be as objective an quickly discards it and returns her attention to the strange situation she somehow account as I can provide, but from the fact that she's been refusing to sleep or drink more than has no training for. She’s been working with the Intern for a bare minimum amount of water in weeks. She's going to wilt and die here, and she is far a while, hearing about his dreams and his past and his old more mortal than her coworkers. "Bull and shit I'm more mortal than South. You friend and his budding powers and so many other things that surprise and shock and delight her. He’s an exciting patient, that’s for buying into that Rememberist shit too??" Roz snaps, again at the empty air, missing a sure – and while she’d never tell him that, it’s part of the reason she’s so message from her mushroom friend. "Oh shit." She turns her attention back to her Pesterchum client, which eager to schedule sessions with him as frequently as possible. So he’s supposed to come twice a I'm not describing in detail as I owe her some degree of privacy. Despite my ire with her, I week, usually, except the last session he couldn't be there because he was on a do want to let her save a little face, so I don't talk too much about her business trip, and he wasn’t meant to return until next week. But here he is, in her office, with his sorry attempts at flirting with someone she's losing an argument with. This shuts her up, and I can't help but wonder if same old pair of red round glasses and his signature colorful sweater, bird the way her foliage begins to tint itself orange is the Edenite equivalent of blushing. ...At this narration, she glances distant online soulmates. the memories that stuck with me were the nights where i’d quietly open a gmod cinema lobby in to the side, seeming to realize something, and her shoulders relax just a tad. She hates feeling powerless, but she's gained a on his shoulder as always. He’d introduced himself – and, while she’d been confused for bit of information on me. She doesn't even care that I'm narrating her thoughts -- because now she knows that I a moment, upon reflection she was sure she was speaking to him, and maybe she’d just remembered don't know everything. About her, about Eden, about the world... and this seems to satisfy her, because she resolves that his appearance wrong and maybe his bird was just usually quieter than this on account of the recent cold weather. Being a she can beat me. The Compass Squad continues to be the very picture of a healthy team, it seems. She snorts at therapist means holding so many conflicting thoughts in her head that she was used this, and then she's back to texting, blocking me out so she can focus on setting up some new and to compartmentalizing. She could handle a little makeover. What she couldn’t handle was the phone courageous plan to address what she thinks is happening with the call from, supposedly, the very same Intern, who had just informed her in the middle of his own visit that he'd just target. She's talking to-- She's texting-- Oh, interesting. She's... texting a few people, actually. But the problem is... I can't refer to been informed of a flight delay and would be missing another meeting. Normally, Dr. any of them. No matter how hard I try, I just Slaughter never answers phone calls during a session, but her patient had can't seem to find the words. Did she...? Still typing, she snorts, the image of her fraudulent "guest book" flashing into insisted – and how could she not? How could she resist more information about her her mind, and in an instant I know what she's done, how most fascinating client? How could she avoid asking questions far more invasive than she's combating me, and why I'm suddenly so much less privy to the happenings of her operatives. Worse yet, I've lost this beautiful nighttime construct map. it was refitted to be a contact with most of the Network. Oh, right. I haven't even introduced the Network. I a therapist ought to – and what would the limit be? As a matter of principle, she can try, but... let me see who I can even get a hold doesn’t like turning her therapy meetings into interrogations – but this one is perplexing, in of. As I search for a suitable point of view, the Intern reaches message number fifty, still a way that grabs at all the problem-solving parts of her and forces her to press and delve in unable to hear my narration. As always, it's limited to my teammates, and and expand her notes and get her patient. So, while she’s able to reconcile that so I can't warn him that almost all of the next three hundred messages will be from the same set this is in fact undeniably the Intern she’s been talking to all along, once she manages of senders, with roughly the same content, and he hits "play" with grim determination. "Hello Eye-dole Game. This to get the bird to shut up she asks the obvious question: “How can you be is the Closer," a voice somewhat similar to her says, but in Two places at Once?” Her patient shifts nervously, trying to smile the politest smile she the way it says her name rhymes with "grocer." "You must wire me ten thousand baubles so can. “Ma’am, I’d like to make an exchange with you. I’ll gladly answer that question in a moment, but first... may I can open a theme park in your honor in two weeks, this Thursday. Please contact--" Skip. "Hello Internette. Welcome to I request a copy of the notes you have on me?” The patient nods as she Game Theory. You do need Game Theory to be a game company so if you asks, clearly expecting the therapist to agree—and Dr. Slaughter can’t quite articulate why she has such a horrible sinking feeling. She feels want to make our games better," says the voice of another coworker of his, and he skips this that horrible urge again. The intrusive thought that creeps in at times like these is seeping into her mind, and she one with clenched teeth. "I'd like to tell you about--" Skip. "My name is the Intern," a mockery of finds herself flicking her gaze away from the Intern, away from the bird, away from her office, looking his own voice says, "and I occasionally wish I could wear--" SKIP. "Caw, caw! Haha, sorry, just away, looking away... she shakes her head a little, recentering herself, trying a little bird humor for you. My name's the Cee-fo, and--" Skip. "DUDE, THIS IS THE not to imagine the Intern listening to everything she says without question and understanding she’s just trying to help and CEBRO. I WANTED TO MAKE SURE YOU GOT MY E-MAIL--" Skip. "DUDE. ARE YOU GETTING THESE? I WANNA MAKE SURE YOU appreciating that the notes are secret for a reason and never ignoring her advice and, and, and... “...Ma’am? Would you like DIDN'T THINK I WAS TALKING ABOUT ELECTRONIC MAIL. THIS IS THE CEBR--" Skip. What is with all to take another break?” The Intern helpfully suggests, tugging on Dr. Slaughter’s sleeve. “I’d gladly retrieve you these copycats?? Normally this many birds don't contact him. "Hey, I am the Nyebor, your most best coworker. I was a cup of coffee. I work here, so I won’t take long.” By the time Dr. Slaughter’s reasoned out that hoping that you could be a little bit worse than me today and also there’s no way that could be true, she’s already compartmentalized that maybe send ten thousand baubles to--" Ughhhh. His head is back on his desk. Skip, skip, skip. He thought, too. She won’t press the issue, she decides, because what reason would theater, but a very clunky one – not in the sense of clunky mapmaking, but a physical thing. isn't even listening anymore. He has no idea. This will be what he's up to until lunch, and he have to lie? I’m such a Good Doctor, she thinks proudly to herself as the Intern returns with then for the rest of the afternoon, and maybe the next morning, too, unless he receives a several folders tucked under his arm and two cups of coffee. It’s surprise maze from his boss. He believes this to be true, even as across the city a young woman giggles excitedly okay. He works here. He's authorized to have those. He never sips his own, nor and tells her crow friends to keep going, handing another one the pay-phone. She's gotten chairs shoved awkwardly onto hills, lamps added hastily to light the now-darkened sandbox…. a very popular among the birds, and they admire her ability to make hundreds of does he let his bird—but as Dr. Slaughter pauses to sip hers, she can’t help but notice calls on the same string-tied quarter. No matter how far in the future she was from before, sometimes the he’s writing a few things down in that ever-present notebook of his. She’ll have to remember old tricks never die. Still perusing my options, I try to peer into the world she's from, and that, she decides. He seems terribly forgetful. “...AND HEADQUARTERS HAS NOT YET BEEN ABLE TO DISPENSE A RECORD OF I still find myself utterly unable to. I hope I get the chance to meet her father childhood playground dressed up for movie night, with seats and screens anywhere people could shove them in. it was in person someday. I hope I get the chance to meet her friends, such a lonely place. i only got one person to join me there, i think, and only even, so I can understand a little more about the life Roz'berry is THE TARGET’S MOVEMENTS, AS IT APPEARS THAT HER TRANSPORTATION DEVICE WAS MANUFACTURED BY A trying to drag her back in to. G-d, I hope she has friends. Later, when the DIFFERENT BRANCH OF THE PROGRAM,” the East Ontonaut reports, sheepishly tilting an total number of voicemails in the Intern's inbox has reached an antenna as if to prove that she was listening to the bosses back in Petya. “THE TARGET’S LOCATION REMAINS UNKNOWN. BETWEEN OUR PREVIOUS GATHERING AND alarming four digits, one of the Changeling's bird-friends flies away from the THE PRESENT ONE, HOWEVER, I WAS ABLE TO DISPENSE PHOTOGRAPHY UNITS 81C-08 AND crowd. It flaps and flaps, soaring in a very peculiar pattern with nearly no 81C-09 WITHIN ARMS 0004 AND 0005. WHILE I COULD NOT ACCESS ARM 0003 WITHOUT DETECTION, WE regard for obstacles nor the drizzling rain, like it's taking the MAY BE ABLE TO BYPASS IT ENTIRELY AND PROCEED DIRECTLY TO ARM 0002 FOR DIRECT CANON MONITORING.” Its average path that every crow has taken at every moment in this city. It has a destination, but it overshoots it, pixelated grin widens, and it bows a little, clanging its digging landing briefly at a random spot nearby before another bird makes eye contact, picks claws against its metal skirt in an impression of a curtsy. It’s very proud of this. Allie raises her up its intensity, and resumes its journey, flying back the way it came once. maybe it was a few times – those years are to land just outside a very nice hotel. The CEBro stayed here recently, as the bird may be aware, a blur – but i remember many more nights where i’d open a lobby and sit on that map and wait. invisible on and so they've had to close down the place as the staff works steam perhaps a message thrown in a discord late at night when nobody could to comprehend the non-Euclidean layout she left in her wake. Her room was known to her, but the others see and i’d sit there for thirty minutes to an hour in the only body weren't -- and so the Lord of Known Space's perception began to warp the hand. “Yeah, uh, question. Why haven’t you checked Arm 1? That’s, like, gotta i ever felt was mine borrowed from some enthusiast of a show i’d been begging everyone to watch be the place to be, right? ‘Cause you said she likes important places.” She gestures to Roz. “In your entirety of the building, until the CEBro lived at the very center of a terrifying maze report about all the people you’ve been stalking.” Roz bares her teeth at Allie, almost of doors and ice dispensers and broken vending machines with products not known to man nor beast. The bird flies in hissing. “Arm 1’s a fucking death sentence. At least with Arm 2 all the magic shit through a window and lands atop one such machine. It sells Lay's Chipsi, a can of doesn’t work, but Arm 1? Are you stupid?? I do have somewhere to be after coke that sloughs off salted layers of congealed, disc-shape "soda chips." They're an acquired taste. Specifically, they've been acquired by a I get the hell out of Dodge.” Allie frowns. "So what if she's anticipating that? Hiding from woman staying in one of the broken rooms, because she loves it here. As soon you in the place you’re too chicken to look?” “That’s-- Rememberist, can you please tell your mimic to as the bird arrives at her door, cawing and pecking to be shut the fuck up? She doesn’t even fucking work here. Tell her to mimic Dr. Barton if let in, she opens it, and much to her chagrin she suddenly finds herself to be a bird. "Heya. Gotta flap and she wants to take the empty fucking chair in the corner,” Roz snaps back -- with no effect on Allie’s feelings, but talk, bud. Get in here. Preparing for a meeting." Alt says. The time is now 11:00 AM, and at least she'll so someone would finally get me and then, eventually, i’d close the be able to fly over to Eyedol Games if her form stays matched to this thing. It squawks back, lobby and go to sleep. i wouldn’t figure out how to explore maps on my own for nearly ten wordlessly, and she wonders for a moment if it's a non-sentient crow -- but she knows how animals work in the certainly hurtful to mine. Would she prefer I narrate her in person? “I’d prefer,” she responds, “that you report something substantial. I mazes, and none of them would've been able to comprehend the layout well enough to get what you’re doing. You wanna keep a light touch. You don’t like managing a team. But you should really find her so quickly. So, with some difficulty, she manages to push the door open, and both the crows fly inside. Her guest years. when i did, when i was finally comfortable with my own solitude enough to babbles for a bit before, as the Quotidians often do, it suddenly says something meaningful: "...and the get your shit together, because the fucking robot is kicking your ass at your job!” Allie opens her mouth to respond, shiftshaper says hi and she's a fan. And YouTube Shorts--" "Hold up," she says, putting up a wing. "The shiftshaper? Can you and Roz gives her a piercing glare. Everyone but her can hear me, anyway. 80N-35 raises a hand, even give me an impression of her voice?" The crow squawks back in a voice Alt has never though it's standing at the front of the front of the room and it’s heard before. It sounds like a young woman's, a little clocky but with an faer turn to talk. “IF I MAY DISPENSE AN INTERJECTION... I MISS YOU, DR. BARTON. angelic little upturn like she's just started voice training and there's something bright wander the haunting halls of the extensive workshop in singleplayer, i nearly cried when there that she's never quite been able to access. "Hello, ma'am. I'm on the phone and ordering ten thousand calls to I WOULD LIKE TO SEE YOU IN PERSON, IF THAT WOULD NOT BE be delivered. It's a pizza. There's food made of phone lines and--" "Okay wait hold up." She clicks her A DISTRACTION. I HAVE NOT RECEIVED AN ANSWER TO THE HUG REQUEST I SENT YESTERDAY AT beak a few times, thinking, her head flicking around like any other bird as she considers who this 22:00.” Oh, Nessie... (I wish I could be there. I wish could be. "Have you... seen the shiftshaper before, like... last few days? This I could just report the target’s location. I wish I could do more than sit here, far away, i looked in the mirror and realized that i still still saw myself looking back in a way i’d never gotten outside. plurality didn’t a new girl?" "Only a week ago there was literally no such thing as a lady of any kind," the and narrate at my squad, watching them bicker amongst themselves and invite the literal girlfriend of bird says solemnly in response in what is unmistakably the divine voice of Truth. These things scare even the maze they’re avoiding directly into their midst. But the work I’m doing is too important to Alt sometimes, and she's sort of their boss. She understands what it involve any of them – and I know exactly what Truth wants. I know what Alt wants, too, and I means, though. "Thanks. You wanna fly to a meeting with me? Get to see the know the way she’s looking at Nessie because I’m narrating it at this very moment.) (I cannot allow Nessie to boss in action?" There's a gleam in her little crow eye, and the bird squawks back eagerly. They love her. Everyone loves do me any favors. it just gave me more reflections in the virtual mirror, and a mirror image, Alt thinks, and she believes no one'll ever embark on a solo expedition to Arm 1. I also know that Roz’berry understand what she means except for her girlfriend. I understand perfectly, of course, because narrating people's thoughts back at them wants it to happen, Alt is trying to make it happen as soon as tends to make them obsess over you. Idly, I wonder what she'd look like if we somehow managed to possible, the Rememberist is considering it, and Nessie herself is weighing and reweighing the idea in what’s left of meet, and then -- and then I find someone in the Network I can connect to! I faer danger-calculating algorithms. It seems like the obvious way forward. She’s focus my attention, and-- Oh. Well, shoot. I don't know how I didn't see this coming. Many, many arms sometimes it feels like they’re all waiting for me to realize over, at a time irrelevant to its passage in Arm 1, the Rememberist of Quests is bidding her beloved robot coworker that i’m the one who only appears when they’re looking before they all push together some goodbye, and I'm missing the ceremony. Worse yet, I can detect the unmistakable signature of not even doing it to self-sacrifice. She really wants to be there, and that’s exactly the issue.) (Well, that spores within her, corrupting her one way or another, and I'm consciously aware for and the fact that I cannot, under any circumstances, allow my team to apprehend the target. But that’s another the first time that everything she knows and everything she sees is story, and they get antsy when I turn my narration away from them for multiple paragraphs like this.) The Rememberist is being copied and transferred somewhere, somehow, to someone I can't quite already saying something about how important it is that she gets to interview Allie when everyone make out. It's like they're partially obscured, and-- "WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, DOCTOR BARTON?" Nessie asks me, and I realize who can hears me narrate again, and Roz makes a mental note to ask me later what I was narrating out loud. I'm lucky I don't have a face anymore. I excuse myself, and she beeps a little, clearly chairs and watch something on the big tv in the dark room. best ytp: speedfolded best advertising jingle: "state farm is concerned for me, before resuming what she was saying. "ANYWAY, REMEMBERIST, I'LL BE was so important that I couldn’t tell her immediately. Allie has just offered, apparently, to DISPENSING AN UPDATE TO YOU EVERY FIFTY LAYERS, AND THEN EVERY ARM ONCE I REACH ARM FIVE. I explain in her interview just how marvelous Arm 1 is and how DO NOT INTEND TO LINGER. I'LL BE TAKING THE ELEVATOR UNTIL ARM 3, AND exciting it’ll be for whichever Ontonaut decides to set up watch there. Nessie begins to raise her THEN WE CAN DISCUSS THE PLAN FOR CIRCUMVENTING IT UNLESS ANYTHING ELSE BLOCKS THE WAY." The Rememberist of Quests's eyes here" (not because i like it, because it'll be in my head forever) best beverage (alcoholic): peach soju best beverage (general): thai bubble tea best sandwich: italian beef best pizza (restaurant): pequod's deep-dish with gleam with excitement, and their new deep-red shade shines brilliantly under the overhead floodlight. This claw, and my mind begins to race, and, and, and I Dr. Fiona Slaughter is spiraling, wondering how is an arm where everything is underground, one layer deeper than the infinite pepperony best pizza (frozened): home run inn best character (friend's oc): tie btwn lucina ravenheart & cmyk & eileen graver & jabberwocky best character (stranger's oc): kim wexler best character (stranger's oc that parking garage, and the duo are standing in a mineshaft next to its only working elevator. This is where Nessie will much control she has over her patients, how much control she has over her life, how much begin her descent into the Echidna. The two of them aren't treating it control she has over the future, how much control she has like a funeral, even though they haven't properly held one, and at over her loved ones, how much control she has over her notes, this the Rememberist snorts and the robot tilts its monitor head, whirring uneasily. "Hey, uh, Doctor," the Rememberist asks, uncharacteristically confident. "You worried Bones won't make how much control she has over-- Oh, she isn’t doing that? My apologies. She’s just still a it? Look, I, like-- blessed her quest. So I'll remember it little nervous about the interaction earlier, and her heart is racing a bit because she’s on her fifth cup of coffee and stuff, and then she can... you know. As long as I remember it, how's she going to this afternoon. She’s not spiraling or anything – but she is rotating the question in die?" This relaxes Nessie, whose digital chirp is akin to a sigh of relief. "I AGREE WITH THE REMEMBERIST, DOCTOR BARTON. AS her mind, long after the choice was made. Should she have let the Intern walk out with his notes? Yes, he LONG AS THE ARCHIVE REMAINS, I WILL LIVE ON IN ABSOLUTE INFINITY. THE REMEMBERIST WILL RECORD MY QUEST, AND WE i'm not extremely fucking lesbian about): lalo salamanca best character (i can be extremely fucking lesbian about one man as a treat since WILL BOTH SURVIVE. SHE WILL WITNESS IT, AND I WILL PERFORM IT, AND THIS WILL BE GOOD IN was undeniably the Intern, and yes, he obviously worked there, but... the THE EYES OF ZAMPANIO." It smiles adorably, eagerly bouncing on its amount of documentation he had taken and the surprise he seemed to have at metal legs. It's actually excited for this, and I can't help i respect women): lucky jonronero best book: dirk gently's holistic detective agency best website: tie between anna's archive & simple wikipedia best comic: why, it's home stuck, of but feel like I've failed somehow. It's confused at my response. "DID I DO SOMETHING WRONG? AM I MEANT TO its contents had been disconcerting. Perhaps this was a memory gap thing – yes! He had mentioned something about retrograde amnesia, and BE SAD? SCARED? DID I CHOOSE THE INCORRECT EMOTION?" "Nah, Bones," the Rememberist cuts in, offering a hand. She takes so of course he would want to see his notes, because it, gripping her coworker's palm tightly for a human but very, very gently for a digging machine. "I think the Doctor's scared for he wanted to know where he’d left off, and, and... it made sense. It made perfect course best video game: anthogoly of the killer best medicine: laughter 🥹 best movey: the thing best movey (name more specific): parasite best movey (name WAY more you, which... I get." She clicks her tongue. "Scary mission. You're going sense. To deny him his records would have simply been far too controlling, and she will not succumb to the intrusive thoughts, to really far in, and you might end up getting isekai'd or something... but, like... look. I think the dreams, to the whispers... no, she is a sane woman, and she does not concern herself with you're going to like it there, and I don't think you're gonna have to worry about never seeing us specific): eternal sunshine of the spotless mind best movey (name WAY LESS specific): everything again. Y'know, I actually wanted to tell you both something." How am I just now learning about this? How many everywhere all at ones (to someone on the bus who i've never met before different forces are blocking out my ability to read the thoughts of my own coworker?? Frustrated, I such baseless fears. And she doesn’t have time to replay the meeting in her head anymore, anyway, because await her dialogue, as curious as Nessie. She exhales a little, smiling wide. "I have it under good authority that we she’s receiving a call from the Intern. She picks it up, asks if miiiight just get to visit you down there. Safely, I mean. Like, with he’s willing to explain how there’s two of him... and when he’s confused, she hangs up the phone, because the ability to come and go and all. So we can she has bigger things to worry about than details. Her phone still party and chat and record things together! I'm already in talks with someone who but seems kinda shy) well, well, well. why the FUCK are you showing your face here again? (i look furious for knows how to set that up, and I've been chatting with a bunch of other people who I'm rings again. An unknown number. Parker, calling from another phone booth to schedule and immediately cancel an sharing some ideas with... so chin up, girliepop. This is just a see-ya-later!" She straightens her back, a second, and then start beaming and punch them on the arm) ahhhhh, just clearly proud, and Nessie looks delighted. I wonder aloud who told her that, MESSING WITH YA!!! HAHAHA! THAT'S MY GUY!!! Seriously, though, what business do you have coming back to this town, you and who's helping her. She laughs. "Doctor, you remember Allie?" ONTONAUT PROGRAM Petya Region lying freak? i TOLD you what'd happen the next time i saw you. Branch - “Quisque Pokemon est Carissimus Alicuius” Ms. Roz’berry Bioluminescence Natasherd Clover Way, It is our a BIG HUG!!!! YAY!!! (i do not hug them) now, are you buying or selling? buying or selling, bud? we've got understanding that you are currently evading capture by an organization that disagrees with the principles, manner, and reach like ten seconds here. are you buying or selling???? no you can't say neither we've gotta move a of your activism. We are aware of your activity across several narratives, and of the destruction caused by the appointment, most likely. She picks up, and-- “This is The Intern,” a sheepish voice says on the trail of active pursuit left in the wake of the organization responsible. We also know that you are running lot of cargo here before we get married (to someone on the bus who’s crying because of out of resources, and you are running out of places to hide. We have negotiated an other end, and she immediately recognizes him as the Intern she’d been speaking to in the agreement with the organization pursuing you. In exchange for your cooperation me) oh, boo hoo! boo hoo hoo! booooo hoooo! (i am actually crying now) waaaaaAAAAUGH! sorry. i meeting. “I apologize for the intrusion, ma’am, but I’m having a medical emergency and with the Ontonaut Program on a singular mission, providing your unique political and social expertise, you cannot presently access my account information. Would you mind reading out my list of emergency contacts?” She obliges, only will be granted total forgiveness of all charges held against you, and you will be free to do stopping to cringe at herself for thoughtlessly writing her note to pick up as you wish -- as long as you do not violate the boundaries of narrative causality again. You thought i heard a Ghost Owl. (hunching over. i look like i’ve aged 20 years) ffffOUL BEASTIES! those may pick a narrative to remain in as you see fit, and more aspirin directly on the Intern’s filed emergency contact list. She’s so scatterbrained today. She’s getting such a headache... she’ll need if there is no significant effect to the fabric of ontospace, you will be permitted to remain there perpetually phantasmic birds…. WRRETCHED CREATURES! of course, you’d know plenty about that, wouldn’t you…? (staring, suddenly worried) wouldn’t you? without fear of capture. You may bring the Destroying Angel with you to this narrative, and if to bump her 9:00 tomorrow to 10:00, if she can manage. She you wish, one Ms. Rose Enzyme Iris Magnolia Ice may accompany you as well. She has could use the extra hour of sleep. After she’s finished reading out the CEBro’s personal phone been given notice of this fact and is currently working to maintain the integrity of your original narrative. oh, g-d, i hope you remember… please, try to remember…. remem-ber!! (standing up) the twen-ty-first night, of sep-tem-ber!! (i do She will be updated monthly on your progress so she has adequate time to prepare in the number, the Intern thanks her profusely and promptly hangs up before she can even ask what emergency he’s event that you succeed and decide to bring her along. If you are interested in facing. If she could tell him what to do... no. She takes a deep breath, picturing a cheering crowd, supporting her this offer, please remain at your current location so a representative can visit you choice to read the contacts and chanting her name all the while... and then her to bring you to an Ontonaut Program base of operations. If you decline, we will hunt you down, and you ten-minute break is over, and she downs the rest of her coffee all at once. Nessie is will be at the mercy of the organization currently attempting to contain and possibly not say the melody. it’s more staccato) (abruptly, i sit back down and take off my neutralize you. Tell nobody, including the Destroying Angel. Any persons informed of this communication or any of the information herein glasses) oh, goodness, excuse me… i thought you were someone else! but really, we’re all “someone else,” aren’t we? ha! you will be treated as accessories to your narrative dismantling and bounties equivalent to your raising her – I'm not ready. Dr. Fiona Slaughter is still drinking her coffee. She own will be placed upon their capture or captures. You have an gulps the black liquid, letting it flow down her throat, awaiting the effect the caffeine will have on hour to decide. Roz’berry Bioluminescence Natasherd Clover Way is up to her antlers in schemes, and she’s beginning to feel the her brain. The second hand on her analog wall clock ticks forward once, and strain. She hasn’t been hydrating properly, hasn’t been resting, hasn’t gotten nearly and i are going to be great friends, i can tell. just like last loop! just like enough sunlight for a cactus, and hasn’t consumed the amount of protein required for a then again, and then again, and... ...no, this is pointless. I’ll... I’ll narrate it. grown woman of her species. Her thoughts are blurry and her sharp mind is dulling, and as she types, and I have no reason to waste your time. Nessie is raising her claw, and even though she’s thinking erases, and types, and erases the same message to one of her pawns last loop. (tapping my watch) anyway, everything’s about to reset, so if you want to confess…! (leaning in for her frown widens. She glares at her reflection in her laptop’s monitor, frustrated a kiss) oh-ho! what do we have here? (pulling a quarter out of their ear) a at her limitations, and waits for the coffee machine to finish single perfect penny… what a specimen! they don’t make these anymore, you know. (i sound giving her her fix. It is the midnight hour. As usual, she about how much she wants to put it down she’s not really doing that and I feel like I’m watching a has made a point to work through the whole thing, even as her only remaining coworker to be both tangible and car crash happen in slow motion. It’s a bad idea, but I know she’ll do it present is loudly snoring. Nessie is somewhere in the depths of the Echidna, extremely distraught and stare at it, before holding it out) here. and I, as always, remain detached from it all, dutifully reporting everything my furious counterpart is regardless because she really, truly cares about this mission, and she’s thinking. She’s certainly not pleased with me, and this, too, distracts something… to remember me by. (i exit the train. when they look at the coin in her from her machinations. “Oh, yeah, tell them everything,” she mutters, knowing I’ll hear hoping to meet the target in person, and... (If only I could narrate what she thinks. If her even the slightest whisper. It’s touching that she doesn’t want to wake the Rememberist. Rolling their hand, it’s actually a penny) This is an arm where every character is a statue. The only living inhabitant’s footfalls send only I could change her mind, just for a moment – just long enough for her to realize that her eyes, she keeps typing, and I’m surprised to find that she’s not talking to the mysterious mushroom this the target shouldn’t meet her, and that none of this is worth it and it’s all going to be for nothing. If time. She’s been more prolific lately, and I notice she’s bouncing between three conversations: echoes down its white corridors, the fluorescent lights far above humming an endless note for an audience that a Puppet, a man named “Edwin,” and one of the Marked. As isn’t listening. This museum’s guest, unable to hear the telepathic signals flickering between the she texts, she takes notes, scrawling down bits of information in a notebook statues’ marble minds, is calmly taking in a plaque written by nobody for nobody. It explains she is so horribly convoluted that those without telepathy could barely dream of parsing looking at “Wanda,” and beneath her chiseled name on the base of her it. Roz leans in, clearly interested in something, and then nods slowly and flips to a new page. “We’re being depiction it says “FOUNDER.” The guest hums a little note of interest, clashing with the melodic noise of fucked with,” she observes aloud. Is she talking to me? She I could tell the target to run, tell Nessie to go haywire, tell nods. “Yeah, who the fuck else? Ooh, you got me, I’m trying to influence the Rememberist’s any of these young women that they don’t have to listen, don’t have to obey, don’t have to dreams. Snrk. As if we don’t know exactly who she’s dreaming about.” She snorts, grabbing the mug the lights above, and sits on a bench to sketch the figure before her. It’s not a very accurate depiction. She off the machine for a sip of the good stuff. Plantgirl coffee is serious business, never learned how to draw. It’s a doodle, misshapen, its style a mix of as far as I’m aware, and a sip of this could probably kill a dragon, let alone a human. Roz follow the rules—Oh, hold on. I should...) “...COULD DISPENSE MYSELF AS A CANDIDATE FOR THAT EXPEDITION,” Nessie is rolls her neck, reinvigorated, and smiles. “Anyway. Yeah, you. I need more intel. You cartoonish shapes and attempted realism that prioritizes Wanda’s most prominent features with can do that for me, right?” I answer in the affirmative saying, in her usual cheery text-to-voice chirp. “I WOULD BE ABLE TO DISPENSE BROADCASTS TO ALL OF YOU, AND (by, well, describing answering in the affirmative), and she puts a flipper to her IF THE TARGET HAPPENS TO BE THERE...” “Y-yeah, that could work...?” The Rememberist beams, glancing at Allie for approval. “Yeah. Yeah! Just—if you chin. “Look, I get we’re on different wavelengths. You’re pissed about East. I just wanna know, blueprint-like labels explaining them in a depth the guest cannot capture. When she wanders away from this museum, tapping the ‘cause this is something we both need to know: the Rememberist had a whole bunch of bright ideas about how to make sure to report a lot, and you’re really, actually looking...” She rocks excitedly in her seat, relieved that she doesn’t get her down through the arms, right? I just wanna know if those really came device in her hands against the nearest elevator door and moving in, up and from her, or if someone’s getting ideas.” I scoff, in a sense, and Roz and I have to leave her current position recording logs and interviews from a distance. Allie, meanwhile, away from the arm altogether, she leaves behind the potential to understand every person echoed across the many, many find we can agree on one thing: who isn’t getting ideas? realities contained within Echidna. If she knew the significance of the exhibits, she’d have spent hours is snorting at a private joke between her and her partner – something about the fact that the Rememberist’s mind is Both of us have our opinions about bringing an author figure, even farther into the maze than any isekai could take her. “You’re really sure you wanna... with an ambinarratively entangled one, into a space full of so much manipulation and so many hungry ideas. Maybe if the Ontonaut the Gopher Maze, and...” Nessie’s joints squeak as its shoulders sag. “AFFIRMATIVE... I UNDERSTAND THAT Program had prepared the team for anything we’d encountered, there’d be a chance we could’ve avoided the mess we’re here, poring over every detail and memorizing every tidbit of information before hopping onto a in… but Roz certainly doesn’t seem to mind the disorganization. Obviously, foundation of her own to stand still and steal a statue’s station. Maybe she’s taking advantage -- something I was meant to prevent, but without being given any of the necessary tools to do she could have even found a way into the telepathic network, and this so. Yet again, I find myself wishing for just a moment that I could influence behavior, could have been her ending. But she can’t settle here. This isn’t what she’s looking for. She wants something and then I sharply pull back. I shouldn’t have that power. I’d end up just like Roz I WAS UNABLE TO COMPLETE MY MISSION TO MAP THE GOPHER MAZE. I HAVE FOUND THAT ITS NON-EUCLIDEAN PROPERTIES EXTEND BEYOND EVEN if I could change people’s minds. Roz hums a little. “You really think that?” She turns away from her MY OWN CAPABILITIES... IF I WERE RETURNED TO FULL FUNCTION, PERHAPS MY NAVIGATION SOFTWARE COULD DO laptop, its dim glow the only light in the room. Her antlers cast gargantuan shadows on the IT, BUT THAT WOULD MEAN THE LOSS OF MY PARTIAL SENTIENCE.” It frowns. Nobody wants to kill it just to wall, surrounding the Rememberist like they’re about to swallow her up… a little warmer, and someone she can hold a conversation with. So she leaves it behind, and and I, everywhere, dance between the mouth and the air around it, map somewhere the target definitely isn’t. “...BESIDES, I BELIEVE I HAVE FOUND A BETTER CALLING IN MY CURRENT SET OF trying to understand this woman from every angle I can see. She’s been using the Network to elude me, but… now TASKS. I THINK I REALLY GOT THROUGH TO HER WITH MY LAST BROADCAST.” She she wants to talk? I find myself confused. Who’d be interested in me? She scoffs, looking genuinely annoyed. She sips her didn’t even hear it, but it was sincerely a good try. “I’m in coffee and bares her teeth. “Hey, North? That shit’s annoying. Cut it the fuck out.” …What did I favor,” Roz says, speaking up for the first time in quite a while. She’s been picking her words very carefully around do? I was just speculating, and-- “No, I mean the fucking who’d be interested bullshit. Uproot that Allie – but she’s confident she’ll be able to be more efficient once dumbass shit-talk now, because if it fucks with your head it’s going Nessie’s secured in Arm 1. (I’m also privately aware that Roz barely even considers robots to to fuck with my head. ‘Cause I have to listen to it.” She puts down her coffee so she can gesticulate nobody ever enters here again. Someday, maybe the museum will be torn to shreds -- by the Devil of at the empty air. “You know how tired I am of hearing you whine about being some nobody? How I’m Spirals, or some other threat capable of destroying the other realities of Echidna. Until then, the statues stand alone -- up to all this interesting shit while you’re some powerless ghost?” I. and the statue of the Intern’s wailing telepathic signals pierce the minds of the other exhibits unheard by any stranger as Um. Well, “And you wanna know the worst part? You’re a fucking deity or something. You the thunderous rumbling of the Changeling’s exit topples Wanda’s statue off of its base and onto the floor, shattering it can look into the target’s head right now and tell me all the shit I wanna know, and I be sentient. This is far more reflective of her own personal issues, and I have elected not to know you won’t, and I know it’s because you think so fucking little of yourself instantly. ---------------- This is an arm that makes the Changeling wipe her glasses, check her that you’re not gonna do the shit you can do. Makes me sick. ‘Cause I did that when I comment on it in further depth for the health of the was a fucking sprout. Yeah?” I’m not withholding information because I hate myself. I just “And can team.) For her own reasons, she readily agrees. When I solemnly cast my own affirmative vote to avoid a you quit fucking projecting on me, while you’re at it? Asshole. Yeah, maybe I need to drink more water, eyesight, and look around in disoriented shock -- because it’s all in but… fuck if I know what needs you have, but you’re sure as split, by unanimous decision plus Allie, the squad decides to send Nessie into the heart of the labyrinth. I don’t fuck not meeting them if you’re this desperate to pin me as some depressed sack of know what she’ll find in there. But when the Changeling manages to set up the meeting she’s after with shit letting myself waste away and talking to my pawns. You want to be me so bad it the Intern’s “emergency contact,” as she’s preparing to speak directly to her makes you look stupid.” She’s seething now, breathing heavily, her teeth clenched between sentences, head firing with ideas, and own target, the question the Changeling must contend with ultimately remains the same as it’s always been. She’s asked it I can tell she just wants to reach into the air and grab me and force me as a child (although she cannot remember), a teenager (although she never got black-and-white, with film grain clearly flickering through the air. Jazz from to listen to her so she can have a modicum of power over the situation she was supposed to a chance to answer), an adult (although nobody heard her ask), and be in control of and And … Oh. “See? Now fucking listen. ‘Cause you wanna know what your problem is? Your problem is as a runaway (although she might never have the chance to that your dumb ass tried to fucking disapp ONTONAUT PROGRAM Petya Region Branch - “Quisque nowhere in particular slinks between the dingy alleys and sparsely-lit streets of the city she Pokemon est Carissimus Alicuius” Dr. Barton, Do you wish to be human again? Maybe not. But you can see 80N-35 again, and you know for sure): Is there room for her anywhere? And, if not... what is can do something useful. If that interests you, focus your attention upon the chair finds herself in, and she stumbles as the music picks up and a big band announces the you used to sit upon in your old laboratory and a suitable host will arrive within arrival of another person with a loud brass note. Suddenly, she is hiding, her heart thumping in ten minutes. You may do with it as you wish -- it understands exactly how your to be done with her? i knew about the blastpass and sporkland and thats why i bought a abilities work, and will guide you to the Ontonaut base located in your own region. In exchange for sporktacular spa getaway package 400 days in advance of my trip. now theyre going to let me try all your cooperation, you will be given two rewards: Firstly, you will be permanently reunited her chest, as she watches a figure in a trench coat and with 80N-35, who will be relocated to your universe at the conclusion of the expedition. Secondly, detective hat emerge from a car and chase another figure on foot. The chaser and the chased round the you will have access to our entire database of information on what you call EPHEMERAL/PHENOMENA-type Pokemon, and you may distribute corner, and the Changeling wills her body to let her leave the alley and pursue the two. Something interesting is that knowledge to your hosts and beneficiaries as you see fit. Should you choose, you may guide those under your influence happening. Maybe she belongs in the background of this chase? Running as fast as her little legs will take her, she huffs and to cite you, rather than the Program, as the primary source of the soups and puddings first and your inexperienced ass is gonna be waiting in line for ninety to a hundred hours just that information. We look forward to working with you. Our branch owes a lot to your puffs, making no attempt to avoid the clattering sound of her footfalls. The contributions to science. It’s an honor. The Intern stays late to finish clearing out his voicemail box. Spam, spam, spam. What music, now thumping, beating, traveling up and down and all around as it crescendoes, completely drowns her out as a tremendous waste of time. And, of course, his least favorite coworker has taken the time to accomplish she advances, like a wolf to the scent of blood, chasing, chasing…! Whoever her detective-prey was after, they must have disappeared, because a whole host of tasks, rewrite his code to run faster, balance the CEBro’s schedule better than as the hat-wearer trips on the pavement and falls and hits the ground she doesn’t get he could, and buy a box of muffins for everyone in the office. Not even donuts -- muffins! How, how, up again to keep running. The Changeling closes in, and the detective stays as the music tumbles and how… how extra. How infuriatingly kind to go the extra mile and splurge on baked goods. He wonders, sometimes, why he’s for a single succulent sporkulent sip. maybe they'll give you a spoon, you so angry. The Neighbor is kind, after all, and he’s frequently on falls, instruments failing, brass all out of tune. With a slam on the piano the soundtrack returns to the receiving end of that kindness. Hell, he wouldn’t have had breakfast this morning without him. Maybe he’s so a quiet, mournful melody, and the rain -- audible, but never seen -- begins to distrustful specifically because everyone else isn’t. The CEBro loves the Neighbor. His coworkers all constantly request to work pour somewhere else in the monochrome city. The detective removes her hat, and the Changeling looks into the eyes of the FOUNDER. She with the Neighbor. The Neighbor brings in clients and contractors with ease and they all report having fantastic experiences working with opens her mouth to speak, and ---------------- This is an arm where the wind whistles through a corn maze, the company. The Neighbor scores EyeDol discounts, site deals, tech licenses, food… a distant guitarist strumming a pop tune to an uncaring audience as the Changeling blurts out a and what has the Intern done? Check a bunch of voicemails and get all sweaty running greeting to nobody. She’s at a dead end. She spits out the around some mazes? The Neighbor makes him feel pathetic. The CEBro used to respect him, and then… and cretin. maybe you'll deserve it. i just found out mikey mouse has a letter then this guy shows up out of nowhere and suddenly he’s playing second fiddle to a bald guy straw in her mouth, bewildered, and then she begins to write down everything. ---------------- This is an arm where everything is that walks like a zombie and talks like a crooner or something. The for me and he wants me to visit his 7 rodent hotels while underwater. ---------------- This is an arm where furniture is people and people are Neighbor has this… melodious voice. It’s incredibly grating to the Intern, who can barely stand to you spend several weeks rotting away in a queue to see The Plastic Elastic Scholastic Bananastic, a food you don't even hear someone he despises so much saying everything so singsong. But everyone else furniture. ---------------- This is an arm where Daniel Mullins is a good writer. ---------------- This is an arm where a loud buzzing sound fills always stops what they’re doing to listen, even sway to the beat, the air, and the Changeling hammers the “CLOSE DOOR” button as the bees advance and ---------------- This is an arm where-- it doesn’t and the Intern is sick of it. Even the Closer likes this guy, and the Intern thought need a spork to eat! Hoho!! I know one thing: that's not a question I she didn’t like anybody. She’s polite, sure, but she’s always so reserved -- except when she’s around the Neighbor, and want the Ontonaut Program, its clients, its benefactors, or especially Roz’berry matter. None of these arms matter. None of these FOUNDERs ever do anything but send the then she actually relaxes. And with the CEBro always so focused on talking to Bioluminescence Natasherd Clover Way to answer. guy in my checkout line at the Neighbor, sometimes the Intern goes whole days without speaking to anybody at all. It’s like It’s Changeling away, as soon as she’s close, as soon as she’s about to like he’s barely even there. He feels like thin air. He ask her question, and yet she always finds herself near her target. She feels like he’s going to disap ONTONAUT PROGRAM Petya Region Branch - “Quisque Pokemon est Carissimus Alicuius” 80N-35, scarcely even knows what she’ll ask when she finally manages to corner the figure, but maybe -- just maybe -- The stars have called upon you to serve them in a glorious this woman will make some sense of the noise. If she is consistent, she has to pursuit of ABSOLUTE ETERNITY. You will be reunited with your mechanic, Dr. Michaela Barton, and work with her once again matter. If she is repeating, she has to be a pattern. This is as a team on an expedition. Your pack and loved ones will be notified an arm where the Changeling has decided to ask everyone, and of your absence, if you wish, and an identical duplicate of yourself may everything, what they know about the name Wanda. She tries a be provided to them upon request. They will get to have dog and finds it incapable of speech, only barking, no matter how you, and so will Dr. Barton. Wouldn’t you like to make everyone happy? If many identities she tries (although some make it lick her and others make it so, please come to the following coordinates at exactly midnight to be escorted to our church: Th-the elevator begins to the store today: • thought house of leaves was the scariest book he sink down through the arms of the Echidna, and it rattles and moans and shakes as it tears through the body growl, something she notes down). She tries a lamppost and finds herself thinking only of of its universal host. This is a durable vessel, and it will last endings, and yet she hasn’t even reached her beginning. She tries a crow and it for some time. Every elevator breaks eventually, though, and Ne- and 80N-35 knows she'll have answers, and finally -- finally -- she has a lead. A friend. The crow will to find a new path downwards very, very soon. What will she find accompany her, she decides after it gives her such a wealth of knowledge that when she exits? Despite everything, she's a little excited at the prospect of stumbling into a truly unpredictable it spills from page to page as she writes with an increasing excitement. It seems rearrangement of the world around her. Zampanio will take her, she reasons, to a place she belongs -- delighted to share with her all it knows of Wanda and “Zampanio” and and so any arm she finds will be the one she's meant to be ever read • would not read it again • liked it enough to read the tv show pilot, which “ZWorld” and so many other delights, it has rides to tell her about and food to in. Of that, she is certain, and her metal joints creak as she relaxes against the elevator offer her, fees for her to ignore and beautiful Ohio women for her to meet online, and wall. She's thirsty. She hopes she'll find a spray bottle to mist her plant matter when she arrives in the Changeling listens and listens and listens and then the helpful little corvid earns a her first layover dimension, because thirstiness could quickly turn into dizziness and dizziness could quickly turn permanent spot on her shoulder. She feels like a pirate! ---------------- This is an arm where the Changeling’s friend has given her into mistakes. She used to be so efficient, back before she was biomechanical directions -- directions she has followed to the letter, and now -- back before the plants had wormed their way into her internals, had intermingled with the redstone powering her, had become she’s arrived at an address, and the friend tells her that this address is where she’ll find so entangled with her very essence that she truly couldn't tell where the he felt was too modern • really wants them to adapt it to a movie, which he thinks would be wires ended and the vines began... maybe, somewhere, her old central core had some kind of memory that could explain an Answers Pie -- but all she finds is an empty lot, and how she'd come to be the strange creature of halves she is. But all she has now is a pitcher then her friend gives her a phone number to call and she calls plant, wired to her components, linked to her screen-field face, waiting with an open mouth it and it sends her a text and she finds herself locked in a battle with for her to insert food and water directly through her intangible monitor. All that's a system that transfers her and transfers her forever. She’s patient. She’s polite. She’ll wait. Her friend encourages her, telling her she left are her reflexes. Even machines remember what they were forged from, and seventy-nine generations of excellent • really wants them to cut johnny truant out of that movie altogether i think development later she still feels wired to take in a signal, fire her internal bow, and dispense. And dispense and dispense just has to hold for a little longer and there’s a good chance she’ll get to speak to a real person and dispense and dispense until she's empty and all she can do is click-click-click-click until someone fills her with any day now. It’s almost there. Almost time for her to meet someone that can help. In the purpose again. The elevator hums and wobbles and creaks, and the last navigator of the he’s the next layer of the text! we found him! i need to ask him to annotate a Cicada Expedition remembers that she used to have orders, not signs from the beyond. She used to copy for me if i can force him to read it again. he’ll be back. for groceries. and have programming, not religious texts. She used to be for something. For a single moment, she allows herself meanwhile, the friend offers, why not play a little Zampanio on her phone? When she explains that to think the thought she always tries to avoid. She thinks of the Ship her phone is a flip-phone, the friend assures her: it’s a contemporary of of Theseus, and wonders if she’s still the same woman she was before she Pong! It doesn’t need a supercomputer. In fact, the two can transformed. If the process of being torn open and intermingled with some external entity has stopped her from being play it right there with just their minds and their bond. And it begins with her in a maze, ONTONAUT PROGRAM Petya a hum From being a robot. stopped her from being a robot, and now she’s just… some thing, that nobody knows quite how Region Branch - “Quisque Pokemon est Carissimus Alicuius” Ms. Roz’berry Bioluminescence Natasherd Clover Way, It is to engage with. She’s bounced around, trying to understand the cosmos, and now she’s here and she can’t even our understanding that you are currently evading capture by an organization that disagrees with the principles, manner, and reach of tell if she’s the same person or just a ghost of the Michaela Barton that … I’m sorry. I I need a your activism. We are aware of your activity across several narratives, and of the destruction caused by the trail of break. I’m going to disappear for a bit. I’ll be back, soon, I just need to… …I don’t know. I’ll… active pursuit left in the wake of the organization responsible. We also know that give you what’s true, I guess. No more editorials. Just the facts. I can’t I can’t I can’t keep making it about you are running out of resources, and you are running out of places to hide. We have me. I’m sorry. ontonaut program petya branch - “todo figure out how to translate every pokemon is someones favorite into latin” Ellie, hi, me. put negotiated an agreement with the organization pursuing you. In exchange for your cooperation with the a really good letter to convince myself here! dont forget to Ontonaut Program on a singular mission, providing your unique political and social expertise, you will be granted total forgiveness of all change it b4 posting lol -ellie “HOLY SHIT, DUDE. I, LIKE, JUST CALLED YOU.” “You charges held against you, and you will be free to do as you wish -- as long needed me, didn’t you? What was I going to do, make as you do not violate the boundaries of narrative causality again. You may pick a you wait?” “YOU KNOW IT CREEPS ME OUT WHEN YOU DO THE RING THING. DON’T YOU narrative to remain in as you see fit, and if there is no HAVE A CAR? YOU SHOULD HAVE A CAR. DO YOU WANT A CAR?” “Of course I have a car. significant effect to the fabric of ontospace, you will be permitted to remain there perpetually without fear of capture. You may I don’t drive it. Its value is as an asset, and the moment I turn the ignition bring the Destroying Angel with you to this narrative, and if you wish, one Ms. Rose Enzyme Iris Magnolia Ice may the value will depreciate significantly.” “IF I GAVE YOU ANOTHER CAR WOULD YOU ALSO accompany you as well. She has been given notice of this fact and is MAKE THAT ONE AN ASSET.” “Yes.” “DUDE.” “I have a perfectly serviceable means of transportation. Plus, it’s fun.” “WHAT IF I currently working to maintain the integrity of your original narrative. She LEFT A FRUIT BASKET IN THE CAR FOR YOU?” “You’d--? I mean, if you’re offering, will be updated monthly on your progress so she has adequate time to prepare in the event that you succeed and I-- wait. Why do you want me to have a car I can drive so badly?” “...” “...It’s because you lost decide to bring her along. If you are interested in this offer, please remain at your keys and need a ride home.” “L-LOOK, BRO, IT’S NOT THAT I MIND TAKING AN UBER, IT’S JUST THAT your current location so a representative can visit you to bring you to an Ontonaut IT FEELS KIND OF WEIRD NOW THAT WE’RE TRYING TO BEAT THEM WITH EYESONTHEROAD, AND-” “M-Madams, I terribly hate to interrupt your Program base of operations. If you decline, we will hunt you business conversation, but I believe I ought to return our attention to the matter at hand,” the Changeling down, and you will be at the mercy of the organization currently attempting to contain and possibly neutralize you. Tell nobody, including the interjects. “OH. RIGHT.” The CEBro points to the Changeling. “SHE SAYS SHE CAN BRING THE Destroying Angel. Any persons informed of this communication or any of the information herein will be treated as accessories to INTERN BACK.” The Closer glances at the CEBro, and then back at the Changeling, and then back to the CEBro again. your narrative dismantling and bounties equivalent to your own will be placed upon their capture or “What? The Intern works for you. Didn’t you speak to him this m-” “-NO, YOU SEE, I THOUGHT captures. You have an hour to decide. Roz’berry Bioluminescence Natasherd Clover Way is up to her antlers in THAT TOO, BUT IT TURNS OUT I SPOKE TO THAT OTHER GUY THAT HAS A FACE JUST LIKE HIS FACE. I schemes, and she’s beginning to feel the strain. She hasn’t been hydrating properly, hasn’t been LEFT HIM A BUNCH OF VOICEMAILS AND EMAILS TOO AND HE DIDN’T EVEN resting, hasn’t gotten nearly enough sunlight for a cactus, and hasn’t consumed the RESPOND TO THEM. I THINK MAYBE WE FIRED HIM OR HE amount of protein required for a grown woman of her species. Her thoughts are blurry and her DIED AT SOME POINT?” The Closer looks alarmed at this, humming thoughtfully. “If that is sharp mind is dulling, and as she types, and erases, and types, and the case, we’ve been payrolling a deceased-- or terminated-- employee. I’ll look into it.” The Changeling clears her throat. erases the same message to one of her pawns her frown widens. She glares at her reflection in her laptop’s monitor, frustrated at “You’re not understanding me, ma’am. I’m aware that there is an Intern employed at your company who bears a great resemblance her limitations, and waits for the coffee machine to finish giving her her fix. It is to the Todd Brian Davidson you were acquainted with. I was under the impression that he’s extremely important to you, the midnight hour. As usual, she has made a point to work and yet you’re more concerned with his paycheck? Ma’am, not to contradict you, but--” The Closer begins to respond, through the whole thing, even as her only remaining coworker to be both tangible and present is but the CEBro is faster. “UH, DUDE, IT KIND OF SOUNDS loudly snoring. Nessie is somewhere in the depths of the Echidna, and I, as always, remain detached from LIKE YES TO CONTRADICT ME. I’M, LIKE, FINE,” she snaps back, with wide it all, dutifully reporting everything my furious counterpart is thinking. She’s eyes and an uncertain glance at her coworker. “Yes, that position has already been filled. If there’s nothing else, we certainly not pleased with me, and this, too, distracts her from can adjourn and--” “Ms. Closer, I insist. If you listened to me, you’d understand why it’s strange that your employer doesn’t find her machinations. “Oh, yeah, tell them everything,” she mutters, knowing I’ll hear her even the slightest whisper. It’s touching that my offer irresistable, and--” “Ha. How many times have I heard that before? We work with a lot of contractors. If she doesn’t want to wake the Rememberist. Rolling her eyes, she keeps typing, and you’d like to make another pitch later when you have a deck, I can give you my I’m surprised to find that she’s not talking to the mysterious mushroom this time. She’s been more prolific lately, and card. I’m sure you wouldn’t like us to get litigious if you attempt to harass my employer again I notice she’s bouncing between three conversations: a Puppet, a man named “Edwin,” and with calls to her personal phone number.” The Changeling clamps her mouth shut, bottom lip trembling. Her breathing picks one of the Marked. As she texts, she takes notes, scrawling down bits of information in a notebook so up in speed, and she kind of looks like she’s going to cry. “Ms. Closer, please, I just want horribly convoluted that those without telepathy could barely dream of parsing it. Roz leans in, clearly interested in to--” The Closer stands. “Enough. This meeting is over.” The CEBro stands, too. She something, and then nods slowly and flips to a new page. “We’re being fucked holds her body language firm, hiding her emotions with a scowl. She with,” she observes aloud. Is she talking to me? She nods. “Yeah, who lets her mind wander back to the thought of her new employee, her best employee, and she lets out a the fuck else? Ooh, you got me, I’m trying to influence the long sigh… and she smiles, suddenly, relieved at the thought that Rememberist’s dreams. Snrk. As if we don’t know exactly who she’s dreaming about.” She snorts, grabbing the soon she’ll be able to return to work with someone so kind and polite and wonderful and know her schedule mug off the machine for a sip of the good stuff. Plantgirl coffee is serious business, as will be balanced and there’ll be baked goods waiting for her and if far as I’m aware, and a sip of this could probably kill a dragon, let alone a human. Roz rolls someone gets stuck in one of the bathrooms again there’ll be a spare key slid under her neck, reinvigorated, and smiles. “Anyway. Yeah, you. I need more intel. You can do the door before she knows it. Everything will be okay. So why does that for me, right?” I answer in the affirmative (by, well, describing answering in the affirmative), and she puts a she feel… worried? This loop’s one of the best she’s had in flipper to her chin. “Look, I get we’re on different wavelengths. You’re pissed about East. I just forever, and even the Closer seems to be in good spirits. It’s perfect. wanna know, ‘cause this is something we both need to know: the Rememberist had a whole bunch of She’s happy. She’s okay. She doesn’t even need Todd to feel- “You turned your back on him, ma’am. Todd bright ideas about how to get her down through the arms, right? I just wanna know if those really came from needs you and you’ve replaced him.” The CEBro turns around, eyebrows raised. The Closer can tell what’s coming, her, or if someone’s getting ideas.” I scoff, in a sense, and Roz and I find but the CEBro is already talking. “WHAT WAS THAT, DUDE?” The Changeling is we can agree on one thing: who isn’t getting ideas? Both of us have our opinions about bringing an madder than she’s ever been. She clutches her notebook tightly, hands trembling, desperately clinging to her lifeline -- that the backup author figure, even an ambinarratively entangled one, into a space full of tactic always works when the main strategy doesn’t. She doesn’t need help. She doesn’t need help. “You can bring so much manipulation and so many hungry ideas. Maybe if the Ontonaut Program had prepared him back right now if you don’t run away like a coward, Miss CEBro.” She doesn’t sound like her dad the team for anything we’d encountered, there’d be a chance we at all, she thinks desperately, almost believing it. “You can fix your mess. Isn’t could’ve avoided the mess we’re in… but Roz certainly doesn’t seem to mind the that what you want? Or are you going to reset everything and--” The Closer gasps as the disorganization. Obviously, she’s taking advantage -- something I was meant to prevent, but without being given any of the CEBro sends the Changeling into a maze, shouting a warning just a necessary tools to do so. Yet again, I find myself wishing for just a moment that I could influence behavior, and second too late -- because she knows what’s coming, knows what her boss then I sharply pull back. I shouldn’t have that power. I’d end up just like Roz if I could change is about to inflict, knows how stupid an idea this is -- and she can’t stop people’s minds. Roz hums a little. “You really think that?” She turns away from her laptop, its dim glow the only her. She can handle contracts and negotiations, not… not fits of rage. And the CEBro’s hands are light in the room. Her antlers cast gargantuan shadows on the wall, surrounding the Rememberist like they’re about balled into fists, trembling, as she glares at the empty spot where the interloper once to swallow her up… and I, everywhere, dance between the mouth and the air around it, trying to understand this woman from stood. “...She’s going to find her way into the Loop, Wanda,” the Closer says in a every angle I can see. She’s been using the Network to elude me, but… now she low and weary voice, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I KNOW. SERVES HER RIGHT FOR-- FOR THAT. DICK.” The CEBro wants to talk? I find myself confused. Who’d be interested in unclenches her fists and rolls her wrists, joints popping as she heads right for the door. The me? She scoffs, looking genuinely annoyed. She sips her coffee and bares her teeth. “Hey, North? That shit’s annoying. Cut it the Closer will follow her, as usual. And that asshole purple girl -- the one fuck out.” …What did I do? I was just speculating, and-- “No, I mean the fucking who’d be interested bullshit. Uproot that who wanted to fuck with her life -- will understand exactly dumbass shit-talk now, because if it fucks with your head it’s going to fuck with my head. ‘Cause I how bad she fucked up when she’s on loop twenty, or have to listen to it.” She puts down her coffee so two hundred, or two thousand, or fucking infinity for all she she can gesticulate at the empty air. “You know how tired I am of hearing you whine about being some cares. She has a good thing going here. For once in her infinite fucking miserable time loop nobody? How I’m up to all this interesting shit while you’re some powerless ghost?” I. Um. Well, “And you wanna know the life, she’s not thinking about him. So why the fuck is she so angry?! She calms down the worst part? You’re a fucking deity or something. You can look into the target’s head right now and way she always has been, lately -- by opening her phone, scrolling through her voicemails, tell me all the shit I wanna know, and I know you won’t, and I know it’s because you and finding a message from her favorite employee to listen to. The new guy’s voice think so fucking little of yourself that you’re not gonna do the shit you can do. Makes me is so soothing. When the recording’s over, she brings it back to the beginning again, sick. ‘Cause I did that when I was a fucking sprout. Yeah?” I’m not and again, and again, and hears the Neighbor announce in that melodious chipper voice that there’s muffins in the office. withholding information because I hate myself. I just “And can you quit fucking projecting on me, while you’re And everything will be okay. And everything will be okay. And everything will at it? Asshole. Yeah, maybe I need to drink more water, but… fuck if I know what needs be okay. …I wish I felt the same way, sometimes. I can’t even disappear right. ONTONAUT PROGRAM Petya Region Branch - you have, but you’re sure as fuck not meeting them if you’re this desperate to “Quisque Pokemon est Carissimus Alicuius” Ms. Constance Cuculida, This is your final warning. The equipment you've stolen is pin me as some depressed sack of shit letting myself waste away and the property of the Ontonaut Program, and you are compromising ontospace through talking to my pawns. You want to be me so bad it makes you look stupid.” She’s seething now, breathing heavily, her teeth clenched between sentences, head firing with your flagrant disregard for the narratives you are fleeing through. Your origin needs ideas, and I can tell she just wants to reach into the air and you. Your father needs you, and he has agreed to provide us with whatever resources he can to ensure that grab me and force me to listen to her so she can have a modicum of you are safely returned to him. Do not forget, Ms. Cuculida, what will happen in the event that you do power over the situation she was supposed to be in control of and And … Oh. “See? Now fucking listen. ‘Cause you wanna know what not aid your father with the weekend maintenance procedure -- and the countless tragedies that will be caused by your problem is? Your problem is that your dumb ass tried to fucking disapp ONTONAUT PROGRAM Petya Region Branch - “Quisque Pokemon est Carissimus Alicuius” Dr. Barton, Do you your negligence. You are not only abandoning the only family you wish to be human again? Maybe not. But you can see 80N-35 again, and you have left. Your absence will cause so many others to be abandoned as well, and no role you find yourself can do something useful. If that interests you, focus your attention upon the chair you in will do enough good to offset the harm you will cause throughout every city-state in the Land. Are you prepared for used to sit upon in your old laboratory and a suitable host will arrive within ten minutes. You that to be your legacy? Are you prepared to be remembered by your friends and loved ones as a coward who may do with it as you wish -- it understands exactly how your took on the role of the absentee and left all of their stories in tatters? abilities work, and will guide you to the Ontonaut base located in your own region. In exchange for There is still time for you to change your mind, stop your cooperation, you will be given two rewards: Firstly, you will be your pointless quest, and follow the instructions we have attached to easily be i’ll be here transported back to your origin. We will not punish you. We are not mad at permanently reunited with 80N-35, who will be relocated to your universe at the conclusion of the expedition. Secondly, you you. Your father is not mad at you. He only wants to take care of will have access to our entire database of information on what you. He only wants to help you mean something to the world. Isn’t that what you want, you call EPHEMERAL/PHENOMENA-type Pokemon, and you may distribute that knowledge to your hosts and beneficiaries as you see fit. Should you Constance? To be a hero? Stop running. You don’t need to disappear. If you’re dissatisfied with your current employment and living choose, you may guide those under your influence to cite you, rather than the Program, as the primary source of that situation, your father has informed us, you are welcome to communicate that to him and he will make the necessary information. We look forward to working with you. Our branch owes a lot to your changes to ensure that you live comfortably and continue to benefit society at large. You may not remember your life before contributions to science. It’s an honor. The Intern stays late to finish clearing out his voicemail box. Spam, spam, spam. What a he saved you, but it was not a happy one. You’ve always accepted that he tremendous waste of time. And, of course, his least favorite coworker has taken the time to was your father since birth. Did you take issue with the role you were given? The role he accomplish a whole host of tasks, rewrite his code to run faster, balance the CEBro’s schedule better than he could, and buy a occupied? Was the story not to your liking? You can co-author it with him, box of muffins for everyone in the office. Not even donuts -- muffins! How, how, how… how extra. How infuriatingly kind to Connie. You can write yourself whatever ending you want. Just come home. Please. Signed, Professor Elias Cuculida Petya Ontonaut Program - Branch go the extra mile and splurge on baked goods. He wonders, sometimes, why he’s so angry. The Neighbor is kind, after all, and he’s frequently on the Manager Pokemon Professor of the Petya Region P.S: When you return, please bring some local cuisine from the best restaurant receiving end of that kindness. Hell, he wouldn’t have had breakfast this morning without him. Maybe he’s so distrustful specifically because everyone else isn’t. The CEBro loves the Neighbor. His coworkers all constantly request to you can find. If your dad’s anything like me (😉), I’m sure he’d love to try corn from a place with work with the Neighbor. The Neighbor brings in clients and contractors with ease and they all report having fantastic experiences working with the company. The Neighbor scores EyeDol discounts, site deals, tech licenses, food… and what has the Intern done? Check a bunch of voicemails and get all sweaty running around some mazes? The Neighbor makes that many mazes! 😂 him feel pathetic. The CEBro used to respect him, and then… and then this guy shows up out of nowhere and suddenly he’s playing second fiddle to a bald guy that walks like a zombie and talks like a crooner or something. The Neighbor has this… melodious voice. It’s incredibly grating to the Intern, who can barely stand to hear someone he despises so much saying everything so singsong. But everyone else always stops what they’re doing to listen, even sway to the beat, and the Intern is sick of it. Even the Closer likes this guy, and the Intern thought she didn’t like anybody. She’s polite, sure, but she’s always so reserved -- except when she’s around the Neighbor, and then she actually relaxes. And with the CEBro always so focused on talking to the Neighbor, sometimes the Intern goes whole days without speaking to anybody at all. It’s like It’s like he’s barely even there. He feels like thin air. He feels like he’s going to disap ONTONAUT PROGRAM Petya Region Branch - “Quisque Pokemon est Carissimus Alicuius” 80N-35, The stars have called upon you to serve them in a glorious pursuit of ABSOLUTE ETERNITY. You will be reunited with your mechanic, Dr. Michaela Barton, and work with her once again as a team on an expedition. Your pack and loved ones will be notified of your absence, if you wish, and an identical duplicate of yourself may be provided to them upon request. They will get to have you, and so will Dr. Barton. Wouldn’t you like to make everyone happy? If so, please come to the following coordinates at exactly midnight to be escorted to our church: Th-the elevator begins to sink down through the arms of the Echidna, and it rattles and moans and shakes as it tears through the body of its universal host. This is a durable vessel, and it will last for some time. Every elevator breaks eventually, though, and Ne- and 80N-35 knows she'll have to find a new path downwards very, very soon. What will she find when she exits? Despite everything, she's a little excited at the prospect of stumbling into a truly unpredictable rearrangement of the world around her. Zampanio will take her, she reasons, to a place she belongs -- and so any arm she finds will be the one she's meant to be in. Of that, she is certain, and her metal joints creak as she relaxes against the elevator wall. She's thirsty. She hopes she'll find a spray bottle to mist her plant matter when she arrives in her first layover dimension, because thirstiness could quickly turn into dizziness and dizziness could quickly turn into mistakes. She used to be so efficient, back before she was biomechanical -- back before the plants had wormed their way into her internals, had intermingled with the redstone powering her, had become so entangled with her very essence that she truly couldn't tell where the wires ended and the vines began... maybe, somewhere, her old central core had some kind of memory that could explain how she'd come to be the strange creature of halves she is. But all she has now is a pitcher plant, wired to her components, linked to her screen-field face, waiting with an open mouth for her to insert food and water directly through her intangible monitor. All that's left are her reflexes. Even machines remember what they were forged from, and seventy-nine generations of development later she still feels wired to take in a signal, fire her internal bow, and dispense. And dispense and dispense and dispense and dispense until she's empty and all she can do is click-click-click-click until someone fills her with purpose again. The elevator hums and wobbles and creaks, and the last navigator of the Cicada Expedition remembers that she used to have orders, not signs from the beyond. She used to have programming, not religious texts. She used to be for something. For a single moment, she allows herself to think the thought she always tries to avoid. She thinks of the Ship of Theseus, and wonders if she’s still the same woman she was before she transformed. If the process of being torn open and intermingled with some external entity has stopped her from being a hum From being a robot. stopped her from being a robot, and now she’s just… some thing, that nobody knows quite how to engage with. She’s bounced around, trying to understand the cosmos, and now she’s here and she can’t even tell if she’s the same person or just a ghost of the Michaela Barton that … I’m sorry. I I need a break. I’m going to disappear for a bit. I’ll be back, soon, I just need to… …I don’t know. I’ll… give you what’s true, I guess. No more editorials. Just the facts. I can’t I can’t I can’t keep making it about me. I’m sorry. ontonaut program petya branch - “todo figure out how to translate every pokemon is someones favorite into latin” Ellie, hi, me. put a really good letter to convince myself here! dont forget to change it b4 posting lol -ellie “HOLY SHIT, DUDE. I, LIKE, JUST CALLED YOU.” “You needed me, didn’t you? What was I going to do, make you wait?” “YOU KNOW IT CREEPS ME OUT WHEN YOU DO THE RING THING. DON’T YOU HAVE A CAR? YOU SHOULD HAVE A CAR. DO YOU WANT A CAR?” “Of course I have a car. I don’t drive it. Its value is as an asset, and the moment I turn the ignition the value will depreciate significantly.” “IF I GAVE YOU ANOTHER CAR WOULD YOU ALSO MAKE THAT ONE AN ASSET.” “Yes.” “DUDE.” “I have a perfectly serviceable means of transportation. Plus, it’s fun.” “WHAT IF I LEFT A FRUIT BASKET IN THE CAR FOR YOU?” “You’d--? I mean, if you’re offering, I-- wait. Why do you want me to have a car I can drive so badly?” “...” “...It’s because you lost your keys and need a ride home.” “L-LOOK, BRO, IT’S NOT THAT I MIND TAKING AN UBER, IT’S JUST THAT IT FEELS KIND OF WEIRD NOW THAT WE’RE TRYING TO BEAT THEM WITH EYESONTHEROAD, AND-” “M-Madams, I terribly hate to interrupt your business conversation, but I believe I ought to return our attention to the matter at hand,” the Changeling interjects. “OH. RIGHT.” The CEBro points to the Changeling. “SHE SAYS SHE CAN BRING THE INTERN BACK.” The Closer glances at the CEBro, and then back at the Changeling, and then back to the CEBro again. “What? The Intern works for you. Didn’t you speak to him this m-” “-NO, YOU SEE, I THOUGHT THAT TOO, BUT IT TURNS OUT I SPOKE TO THAT OTHER GUY THAT HAS A FACE JUST LIKE HIS FACE. I LEFT HIM A BUNCH OF VOICEMAILS AND EMAILS TOO AND HE DIDN’T EVEN RESPOND TO THEM. I THINK MAYBE WE FIRED HIM OR HE DIED AT SOME POINT?” The Closer looks alarmed at this, humming thoughtfully. “If that is the case, we’ve been payrolling a deceased-- or terminated-- employee. I’ll look into it.” The Changeling clears her throat. “You’re not understanding me, ma’am. I’m aware that there is an Intern employed at your company who bears a great resemblance to the Todd Brian Davidson you were acquainted with. I was under the impression that he’s extremely important to you, and yet you’re more concerned with his paycheck? Ma’am, not to contradict you, but--” The Closer begins to respond, but the CEBro is faster. “UH, DUDE, IT KIND OF SOUNDS LIKE YES TO CONTRADICT ME. I’M, LIKE, FINE,” she snaps back, with wide eyes and an uncertain glance at her coworker. “Yes, that position has already been filled. If there’s nothing else, we can adjourn and--” “Ms. Closer, I insist. If you listened to me, you’d understand why it’s strange that your employer doesn’t find my offer irresistable, and--” “Ha. How many times have I heard that before? We work with a lot of contractors. If you’d like to make another pitch later when you have a deck, I can give you my card. I’m sure you wouldn’t like us to get litigious if you attempt to harass my employer again with calls to her personal phone number.” The Changeling clamps her mouth shut, bottom lip trembling. Her breathing picks up in speed, and she kind of looks like she’s going to cry. “Ms. Closer, please, I just want to--” The Closer stands. “Enough. This meeting is over.” The CEBro stands, too. She holds her body language firm, hiding her emotions with a scowl. She lets her mind wander back to the thought of her new employee, her best employee, and she lets out a long sigh… and she smiles, suddenly, relieved at the thought that soon she’ll be able to return to work with someone so kind and polite and wonderful and know her schedule will be balanced and there’ll be baked goods waiting for her and if someone gets stuck in one of the bathrooms again there’ll be a spare key slid under the door before she knows it. Everything will be okay. So why does she feel… worried? This loop’s one of the best she’s had in forever, and even the Closer seems to be in good spirits. It’s perfect. She’s happy. She’s okay. She doesn’t even need Todd to feel- “You turned your back on him, ma’am. Todd needs you and you’ve replaced him.” The CEBro turns around, eyebrows raised. The Closer can tell what’s coming, but the CEBro is already talking. “WHAT WAS THAT, DUDE?” The Changeling is madder than she’s ever been. She clutches her notebook tightly, hands trembling, desperately clinging to her lifeline -- that the backup tactic always works when the main strategy doesn’t. She doesn’t need help. She doesn’t need help. “You can bring him back right now if you don’t run away like a coward, Miss CEBro.” She doesn’t sound like her dad at all, she thinks desperately, almost believing it. “You can fix your mess. Isn’t that what you want? Or are you going to reset everything and--” The Closer gasps as the CEBro sends the Changeling into a maze, shouting a warning just a second too late -- because she knows what’s coming, knows what her boss is about to inflict, knows how stupid an idea this is -- and she can’t stop her. She can handle contracts and negotiations, not… not fits of rage. And the CEBro’s hands are balled into fists, trembling, as she glares at the empty spot where the interloper once stood. “...She’s going to find her way into the Loop, Wanda,” the Closer says in a low and weary voice, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I KNOW. SERVES HER RIGHT FOR-- FOR THAT. DICK.” The CEBro unclenches her fists and rolls her wrists, joints popping as she heads right for the door. The Closer will follow her, as usual. And that asshole purple girl -- the one who wanted to fuck with her life -- will understand exactly how bad she fucked up when she’s on loop twenty, or two hundred, or two thousand, or fucking infinity for all she cares. She has a good thing going here. For once in her infinite fucking miserable time loop life, she’s not thinking about him. So why the fuck is she so angry?! She calms down the way she always has been, lately -- by opening her phone, scrolling through her voicemails, and finding a message from her favorite employee to listen to. The new guy’s voice is so soothing. When the recording’s over, she brings it back to the beginning again, and again, and again, and hears the Neighbor announce in that melodious chipper voice that there’s muffins in the office. And everything will be okay. And everything will be okay. And everything will be okay. …I wish I felt the same way, sometimes. I can’t even disappear right. ONTONAUT PROGRAM Petya Region Branch - “Quisque Pokemon est Carissimus Alicuius” Ms. Constance Cuculida, This is your final warning. The equipment you've stolen is the property of the Ontonaut Program, and you are compromising ontospace through your flagrant disregard for the narratives you are fleeing through. Your origin needs you. Your father needs you, and he has agreed to provide us with whatever resources he can to ensure that you are safely returned to him. Do not forget, Ms. Cuculida, what will happen in the event that you do not aid your father with the weekend maintenance procedure -- and the countless tragedies that will be caused by your negligence. You are not only abandoning the only family you have left. Your absence will cause so many others to be abandoned as well, and no role you find yourself in will do enough good to offset the harm you will cause throughout every city-state in the Land. Are you prepared for that to be your legacy? Are you prepared to be remembered by your friends and loved ones as a coward who took on the role of the absentee and left all of their stories in tatters? There is still time for you to change your mind, stop your pointless quest, and follow the instructions we have attached to easily be transported back to your origin. We will not punish you. We are not mad at you. Your father is not mad at you. He only wants to take care of you. He only wants to help you mean something to the world. Isn’t that what you want, Constance? To be a hero? Stop running. You don’t need to disappear. If you’re dissatisfied with your current employment and living situation, your father has informed us, you are welcome to communicate that to him and he will make the necessary changes to ensure that you live comfortably and continue to benefit society at large. You may not remember your life before he saved you, but it was not a happy one. You’ve always accepted that he was your father since birth. Did you take issue with the role you were given? The role he occupied? Was the story not to your liking? You can co-author it with him, Connie. You can write yourself whatever ending you want. Just come home. Please. im a vip at this years burgers and frys convention thats why they let me sit on the grill. you wish you wer eme so bad it makes you look Medium Stupid Signed, Professor Elias Cuculida Petya Ontonaut Program - Branch Manager Pokemon Professor of the Petya Region P.S: When oh, i don’t pay delivery fees on my dinners and treats and such. you see, i’m a globhobble Sloptrougher, which gives me a first look at new types of sloptroughs and hobbleglobs before anyone else gets a single sloppy slurp of the Cutting Edge. the new sloptrough flavor is Cotton Ca– oh, but i shouldn’t say! oho! perhaps if you followed me on Parmesan, you’d know what the world will look like in Twenty Minutes? no, you waste away in your hole paying tithes and tips to all the globhobblers while my globhobblers drive across the entire continental United Skates just to get no tip, a little “Advice” from “tHe Big Man” (Picture of Lance Legstrong, That Biker From Arthur TV Show), and maybe even a smoochie on the poochie if i’m feeling lucky. That’s when I kiss their dog. you return, please bring some local cuisine from the best restaurant you can find. If your dad’s anything like me (😉), I’m sure he’d love to try corn from a place with that many mazes! 😂