You have been stung by a bee and died.
You have no way of knowing how much time has passed since, or if indeed any time has passed at all.
You find yourself in the Unholy Citadel of 6ch. You see here the fucking bee, a choir of the damned singing the national anthem of 6ch, and meltingwax's BFF behind the altar.
To offer a sacrifice at the altar, go to >>2
To join the damn choir, go to >>3
To get back at the bee, go to >>4
You offer the VIPCOINS that you gained at the death of SAoVQ on the unholy altar. Forthwith a great beast rears it's head and welcomes you to the land of the dead.It speaks a tongue so ancient you know it to be that of the old guard. To be consumed by the beast go to >>7
To join in the damned choir go to >>3
To fall to tanasinn go to >>9
To roam the land of the dead go to >>37
The choir ignores you completely.
Go to >>58
／⌒ヽ
/ ^ ω^j､＜ いただきます
_, ‐'´ ＼ / `ｰ､_
/ '￣｀Y´￣｀Y´￣｀レ⌒ヽ
{ ､ ﾉ､ | _,,ﾑ,_ ﾉl
'い ヾ`ー～'´￣__っ八 ﾉ
ヽ､ ー ／ ー 〉
二二｀ヽ-‐'´￣｀冖ｰ-く二二二
| |
| ｐｌｅａｓｅ ｆｉｎｄ ｍｅ .|
| ａ ｈｏｍｅ .|
| |
二二二二二二二二二二二二
Rising from his altar the Great Beast chews off your arm. To your surprise he only consumes one arm and then sits, staring longingly at you as if it's been eons since his last hot bath.
To put the Great Beast back into the altar and pray that someone else comes along to rescue him go to >>11
If you are not allowed to have Great Beasts in your apartment go to >>10
To take the great beast back to your apartment and give him a hot bath and some earl grey tea go to >>23
You circle around the back, which is quite extensive.
You are still in the Unholy Citadel of 6ch.
You have no way of knowing how much time has passed, or if indeed any time has passed at all.
You cannot see the bee anywhere.
To try to sit down and have a chat with the choir, go to >>6
You can also go back to the altar at >>2
To sing along with the choir, go to /kareha.pl/1210690558
Imagine if you will that the world has been machined precisely to test you, you are the final product and everything you do is for the purpose of furthering your own turing. Now imagine that all possible worlds were made to machine all possible versions of you, so you are not only the subject of a turing test but also part of the test itself. Now if you were to kill yourself you would cycle out from the test. To do so go to >>37
If you wish to continue along the long road to total recursion go to >>9
If at some point you cycle all the way through the turing test and end up back at your own birth in this life but you are another person, someone who originally you thought was part of the machine. You realize that the entire world is a turing test made of subjects made to interact for it's own purpose. After doing this enough you end up living all possible lives as everyone. When you kill yourself, tanasinn.
It refuses to buy your feeble excuses. If you really wanted, it, you would let it follow you home, and find a way to hide it somewhere in your apartment.
To let it tag along, but make no further promises, go to >>12
If the situation is exacerbated by the inconvenience that you don't even have an apartment, or at the very least don't know your way back to it, go to >>13
To just walk away as if nothing had happened (minus your arm, of course), saunter over to >>8
The Great Beast rolls its fearsome eyes, then wanders off, but only briefly. It soon returns to fetch you, by gently biting your arm. Acutely aware of what that entailed previously, you tag along in a mild panic.
In the distance appears a structure, artificial in nature. It seems the Beast has constructed a home for you to live in, or maybe that edifice has been there all along. The two of you approach it.
Go to >>12
Welcome to the medical center. The building consists of 4 tin garbage cans and 2 cardboard boxes. The attendant, who you are pretty sure was actually a rat, applied some "Medecine" to you, you don't know if it was medicine or not but you feel alright. Soon you find yourself awake in an ally with a missing kidney, but two functioning arms.
If you can't live a full life with only one kidney go to >>37
To kindly get up and try to find your way back go to >>17
To go home go to >> 12
You bow in the general direction of the bee, and tell it that all is forgiven.
The bee, however, is not so lenient, and in revenge for your attempting to swat it pre-emptively stings you, again. Which should be impossible, because stinging is a suicide attack for bees. This bee is badass enough to do it at least twice in a row.
Anyway, you are dead. Again. Maybe it will comfort you that in all likelyhood, so is the bee.
What is it with you and dying from bee stings anyway? Are you allergic or something? Go to >>1
The tapir looks at you as if your mind has gone missing as well. Insecured, you immediately check on and wipe your face to increase your charisma score. It doesn't seem to have an effect.
To check your inventory, go to >>105
To repeat your request for a phone more slowly, go to >>18.
To ask for directions instead, go to >>26.
To circle around back, go to >>8.
You really put your back into it, and it seems your efforts pay off. The venerable lizard sighs. There is just no discouraging you, is there? Impertinent youth. Does she regret telling you that you could ask her anything? She never promised to answer, after all. She deigns to inform now you that she will answer your question, if you truly insist, but be warned, you will not like the answer.
It doesn't matter, you must know! >>40
Oh, well then. Nevermind. >>41
YOU HAVE DIED.
Again.
As if anything here stays dead. Go to >>1.
Mercer is climbing the mountain, while a neverending avalanche of rocks made of foam fall down on him. But he never gives up, never ceases climbing.
You want to be like him. Not suffer the same sisyphony fate, but eternally optimistic, never giving up, like Team Rocket, futile though it may seem at times. Who cares if Mercer is not real; unbelievers who have no soul will never understand. How you pity their empty existances.
Upon waking up, you decide to aquire a pet.
Maybe you can still purchase one at the Unholy Temple? >>2
Bah, robots do it better. Also harder, faster, stronger. >>44
All in good time. First, get out of the tub, dry off, and fix yourself some nice hot beverage for immediate consumption. >>24
So you want to play mind crazed banjo, on the doggy track rag time USA. Go straight to hell.
>>666
The fruit tea tastes, well, fruity, but also warm and sweet. Must be the fruit sugars fattening up your liver. As the abundant ascorbine acid rots your teeth (but at least delays the onset of scurvy from your habitual cocaine diet), you briefly regret not having chosen another tea. Only briefly, mind, because for somereason you feel unreasonably optimistic.
Now, as for the pet you wanted:
Go to the pet shop >>60
Ask for advice at the temple >>36
Roll some dice >>28
You stand close to the Neutr™ oSense™ and ask for, nay, demand, your tea in your best impersonation of Gurney Halleck. Too bad the device doesn't have ears. Suppressing a sigh, you resort to using the telepathic interface.
Go to >>35
The Neutr oSense™ produces a scalding hot liquid almost, but not entirely, unlike tea. As you drink it, carefully, you feel the blood rush into your meager muscles, and you feel ENERGIZED! Hopping around the room, you knock over all the things you don't break.
Suddenly in need of more air, you rush outside. >>60
You try to get advice at the temple, there are too many stairs and you die of old age >>37
As has been mentioned to you before, you have died.
You have not survived your own death, and therefore cannot die again.
No matter what torment the world behind the curtain holds, there is nowhere else for you to go.
So don't worry. They may not be hope, but also nothing to fear.
You roam the land of the dead behind the temple.
The first thing you notice is it is less like an afterlife, and more like an aprés-vie.
There is a parade in the streets like the first of May in Pyongyang.
Alas, you can not participate in the festivities yet.
First you have to meet your travel agent.
Have you ever heard the phrase: Life is a journey? If so, you haven't arrived at your destination yet.
Your travel agent is a nice guy named Sharon or something, and rather fond of Disco. (Who would have thought?) Despite this, he has a tranquil aura about him. He also hates his job. For him, as for you, there is nowhere else to go but on.
He reminiscises about the good old times when he helped trick an old co-worker named Manny, who has long since moved on. Not that any of this necessarily makes sense to you. You try to steal a glance at your watch to see how long this one-sided conversation has been going on, but time does not exist in this place. You'll get used to it. You have all the time in the world for that. Maybe that is why Caron (or whatever his name is) appears so patient.
You get into a nice little street-side café.
You ask
for wine >>47
for the menu >>48
if this is heaven or hell >>49
where the banshees, valkyries, Persephone, &c, at >>50 IOW, the cute girls that are supposed to guide you to the afterlife.
Driven by the urge to do something, you get your pet and take to the great blue room colloquially referred to as the great outdoors.
You play catch with your animal companion, and you keep alternatingly winning and losing. So you take a stick and throw it in the tall grass. Your familiar hustles after it.