Create Your Own Adventure, Part 1: Awakening (contains lucid dreaming and cool shit)

Page 2 of 23
#42
Page 3, Godwin's law satisfied.

Obviously B.

Loving the writing guys, until the typical teenage love interest arrived. +1 to Tarbosh for pulling it back on track.
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#44
I still have the word doc of the CYOA: Teen edition. Thing is a work of art. I would even go as far to say that it tops the masterpieces of Ayn Rand.

Do me proud again Pit. I might even get in on writing some of this one.
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sht up u flthy librl foogit stfu u soo mad n butthurdt ur ass is an analpocolypse cuz ur so gay "my ass hrts so mcuh" - u. your rectally vexed n anlly angushed lolo go bck 2 asslnd lolol
#45
Quote by Julz127
Page 3, Godwin's law satisfied.

Obviously B.

Loving the writing guys, until the typical teenage love interest arrived. +1 to Tarbosh for pulling it back on track.

Has to be C, so the girl can have Kuato growing out of her leg.
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#46
B.

Damn, all three of the story parts have made me cringe and laugh, they're pretty good

God the part about the frosted cereal...


damn...
Last edited by VillainousLatin at Mar 16, 2012,
#47
Quote by slapsymcdougal
Has to be C, so the girl can have Kuato growing out of her leg.


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#49
Nice. I'm going to class right now but I'll be able to write a bit later. Or, Tarbosh could handle it
Last edited by RedDeath9 at Mar 16, 2012,
#51
Quote by slapsymcdougal
I'm cockblocked regularly by my appearance and personality.
#52
Goddamnit ometh, you too? You're gonna be one of those guys? **** you then.

Yeah, B won. I'm still busy, haven't seen tarbosh around today.
#53


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#54
Lol, I remember all the way back when I made the Zombie CYOA! Those were the days. I think Red Death became the writer of that un too.

#57
B. A tattoo of a swastika. Not the Buddhist kind.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Melinda's skirt had... accidentally?... ridden up her leg a bit, and just below her knee, bared before Simon, was the crooked cross swastika of Nazi Germany, branded black into her skin.

Perturbed, Simon finished doing his laces and rose back up. He let out a slow, shaky breath.

And he had been afraid of being disappointed by her.

"So..." Simon quivered.

"Are you okay?" Melinda whispered, "You really look like you're going to be sick!"

Oh god, I can't appear weak in front of her. She won't accept me into her master race, otherwise.

Simon suddenly let out a roaring laugh, startling Melinda. "That was a funny joke," he bellowed with feigned confidence, his mind racing to figure out how he would recover from all of this.

"You're so weird!-"

"No. I'm sorry," Simon explained seriously, "It's just that..." He paused and looked into her sharp, grey eyes intensely. "I'm just really..."

"WHAT?!" Melinda shrieked.

"SHHHHH," Simon hushed her. He moved in closer, as if he was about to tell her some grave secret. He pretended to scan the bus for eavesdroppers. Then, he looked into her eyes again, which contained a delirium that Simon hadn't noticed before. He steeled himself. "I'm just..."

"I'm tripping balls."

Melinda stared at him blankly.

"Just deal with it, alright?" Simon turned to face the front and closed his eyes, wishing he could disappear.

Silence. He could practically feel the bus passengers' eyes on him.

"Hey!" her voice exclaimed, "You're lying."

Well, aren't you just a ****ing piece of work.

"You don't have to lie to me," she consoled, "Just tell me what's wrong."

I'll tell you what's wrong. You're a lunatic. A racist. You're going to sterilize me as part of your eugenics program, for god's sake.

And once again, he realized that silence and fear were weaknesses that he must eliminate from himself in order to survive this encounter with the Neo-Nazi-kind.

"Okay," Simon opened his eyes and glanced at Melinda, avoiding her crazy eyes. "I'm not tripping balls. The truth is, I actually do feel sick." His voice was shaking. "Must have been that cereal." My favorite frosted kind. His mouth contorted into a wry smile. Damn him and his fragility.

"Oh no, do you want to get off the bus?" she asked innocently.

Oh god, please.

"No, I'm fine, really."

10 seconds. 20. Thirty. Forty five. An entire minute passed without one of them having said a word. Stuck beside a crazy neo-Nazi bitch, a minute seemed like an eternity. A minute and a half... Two eternities...

"So what kind of music do you listen to?" she asked suddenly.

What's the correct answer here? he thought, mind racing. Metal? Will she think of me as uncouth and rebellious? Jazz? Is that too refined? Best play it safe.

"Good music," he answered, "How about you?"

"Oh, I like everything!" she responded, "Even classical! I really like Wagner."

That made Simon even more nervous, but he couldn't say why. Maybe because Wagner was German?...

"Oh, that's cool," Simon croaked.

All I have to do is survive the bus ride, and I can get away from her. What, five more minutes?

"Yeah, and Beethoven is nice too!" Melinda went on, "I really like his Ninth, but..."

Simon nodded numbly, pretending to listen. He never thought he'd ever meet a Neo-Nazi in his hometown. He wished she'd just go back where she came from. What kind of people were they breeding in Massachusetts anyways?

Simon gulped as he realized the answer. The master race. He shut his eyes, trying to pretend that Melinda's wasn't looking at him with those mad, delirious eyes of hers. Oblivious to his discomfort now, she prattled on.

I should have just stayed home today. Then, he would never have met-

No. Simon's stomach knotted as he realized that she would be there at his bus stop, every single day. That also meant that she lived close by. There would be no avoiding her, and her family, unless...

I don't have to go to school. I can homeschool myself. It's possible. Yes, I'll talk to my parents about it when they get home. I'll blame it on bullying. But never again will I go near that bus stop. Not even if-

"Wait," Simon said suddenly, cutting her off. "What did you say?"

"I really like your hoodie?"

"You know Strapping Young Lad?..." Simon asked warily.

"I know them, but I've never been a fan."

"Oh... What do you like, then?..."

The school came into view.

"Well, I really like black metal!"

Faster, bus, faster.

"Oh?..." Simon mouthed, unable to force the word out.

"My favorite is Burzum. I figure I can tell you, because you're wearing that hoodie, even though other people would think I'm weird for liking metal. I hate when people stereotype like that! It just..."

Simon had stopped listening. The world faded around him. All he saw was a young Varg Vikernes, a self-proclaimed racist and eugenicist, one of the most publicized figures of black metal, perforating his bandmate with 23 stabwounds, and then smiling as the verdict was delivered at his trial.

The bus stopped. Simon practically bounded outside, leaving Melinda bewildered. He did not stop until he was inside and halfway to his first class, at which point he slowed into a fast walk.

It did not even matter that others looked at him as if he were crazy. At least he knew he wasn't crazy. Melinda, on the other hand... Simon shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. How could people like that even exist? Well, at least he could -

Someone placed a hand on his shoulder. He jerked away from the touch.

"Dude, what the ****?"

Simon turned around. It was only his friend, Milo, a tall, sandy-blonde haired guy who, with his rough, sand-colored facial hair and his booming voice seemed too old to be in high school.

"Don't do that," Simon said. (HHAAAAAA SIMON SAID)

"What are you running from this time?" Milo asked with a grin.

"Seriously," he shook his head, "I almost shit my pants."

"Hm," Milo said, still smiling, "Let's discuss this over a joint, shall we?"

"Here?? In school?"

Milo looked incredulous. "**** yeah, of course! In the staff room, I already invited half the teachers - hell, even Mrs. Bonner wanted in."

Simon stared at him blankly.

"You're an idiot. We're leaving."

Simon wasn't sure that weed would have the relaxant effect on him that Milo claimed. He had had some bad experiences with it, before. Perhaps it was best to just stay here... But, what if he ran into Melinda again...

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

A) Go smoke dat joint with your bro, and tell him what happened
B) Stay at school and go to class, tell him later
C) Punch the next person you make direct eye contact with
D) Fap

Don't worry Pit, she'll be back.
Last edited by RedDeath9 at Mar 18, 2012,
#60
Quote by Julz127
Page 3, Godwin's law satisfied.

Obviously B.

Loving the writing guys, until the typical teenage love interest arrived. +1 to Tarbosh for pulling it back on track.


Dude, you've read Fugitive. Or at least, you used to read it. I noticed one of your posts in it. I'm going through it right now, it's so epic.

Quote by King Of Suede
I still have the word doc of the CYOA: Teen edition. Thing is a work of art. I would even go as far to say that it tops the masterpieces of Ayn Rand.

Do me proud again Pit. I might even get in on writing some of this one.


Do yourself a favor and read Fugitive edition
#61
I feel bad for ignoring this thread, funny shit.


Quote by slapsymcdougal
I'm cockblocked regularly by my appearance and personality.
#62
Quote by RedDeath9
Dude, you've read Fugitive. Or at least, you used to read it. I noticed one of your posts in it. I'm going through it right now, it's so epic.


What's fugitive? was that a CYOA? I remember one about a guy who fapped at bad guys to kill them.

Also, not sure if A, B, C or D.

A.
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#63
Quote by Julz127
What's fugitive? was that a CYOA? I remember one about a guy who fapped at bad guys to kill them.

Also, not sure if A, B, C or D.

A.


Yup, that was Fugitive Actually, that occurred more in teen and pre-teen edition.

https://www.ultimate-guitar.com/forum/showthread.php?t=970972&page=42&pp=40

You're post number 1678.

Quote by Ometh
I feel bad for ignoring this thread, funny shit.




I see you've found the light. Please stay a while.
Last edited by RedDeath9 at Mar 18, 2012,
#67
He needs to calm himself, so either A or D.

He already fapped once today, so I'll go with A.
Oh f*ck it,
I'm gonna have a party.
I had the blankest year,
I watched life turn into a TV show.
It was totally weird.
#68
A !
Have you run your fingers down the wall...

And have you felt your neck skin crawl...
When you're searching for the light ?
#70
Quote by SaintsofNowhere
Lol, I remember all the way back when I made the Zombie CYOA! Those were the days. I think Red Death became the writer of that un too.


Yes, and I ran it into the ground. Guess I just let it stagnate or something, and then I lost interest.

However, I've been reading the Dee Pitt Fugitive edition again, as I said, and I can't believe that I let it end like... that. I definitely have to give it a proper ending...

Also, Tarbosh is writing the next one.
#71
Simon stood aloof as Milo sauntered off. Sometimes he wondered how he became such close friends with someone so radically different. Where Simon was often meek and timid, Milo was brash and loud. Milo was always having new girlfriends and was known to go through a relationship every week, sometimes even maintaining more than one at the same time. He could manipulate women like it was nothing. Simon had trouble looking a girl in the face. But, after all, the two friends had known each other for as long as either could remember.
Milo's sandy hair waved playfully about in the gentle breeze as he walked away.

"Wait! Milo!"

Simon sprinted after him, stopping for a few seconds to catch his breath.
"I can't believe that you've got me doing this again, but I'll go with you. I suppose a good smoke might be able to calm me down, but you remember what happened last time." Simon gazed down at his shoes, kicking the pebble nearest his foot.

"****, Simon. You're always so uptight. It would be good for you. And besides, last time was different. I think that shit was laced. This stuff I got now is from a better dealer. You know Matt from algebra? He hooked me up." explained Milo. "You won't be getting any freakouts when you're baked on this kush."

Simon looked at his watch. It was almost 10 AM. He had class in 20 minutes.

"We'd better make this quick,'' Simon said hastily. "I can't miss history again; I swear O'Clark has some kind of vendetta against me. He gave a pop quiz on every single day I happened not to be there."

"Yeah, yeah. It'll be fast. Let's just go into the teachers' lounge, we can get in there now since some of the staff are in on this. Don't you want to see what it's like in there?" Milo grinned. Simon's face brightened a little bit. He had always wondered what exactly was in that lounge, seeing the teachers slipping in and out of it all the time.

"Alright. Let's go." said Simon. They both walked over to the teacher's lounge, room 241 in the building. Once they entered, Simon saw that everything was already set up. They had definitely been planning this for a while, because there was a table full of typical munchies-friendly snacks, a vaporizer, some rolling papers, and a zip-top bag full to the brim with sansomille. Around the round table sat 3 teachers and 5 students, all jabbering amongst each other. As Milo and Simon entered the room, it grew silent.

"Alright. As leader of the 420 club, I declare this first meeting in session. Simon, my friend, if you could do the honors of rolling the first spliff." It was funny to Simon that the only thing he'd ever seen Milo show any sort of leadership over was this stoner club. Milo was a slacker in every sense of the word. Simon looked wistfully down at the weed buffet that lay in front of him. He rolled a joint, lit it with the lighter he kept in his pocket, and took a puff. He held the smoke in his lungs until he felt he was about to gag, and exhaled deeply. Already he could feel the effects of the THC interacting with the receptors in his brain. Milo was right, it was relaxing. He sat down. While the others were passing the joint around, talking, laughing, Simon sat and twiddled his thumbs. His mind began to wander. He thought about the dream that he had had that morning. What was that mystical forest that he had found? He wished he could travel back there, to see the wind as it tugged gently at the boughs of the overhanging trees; to see the shadows flickering on the ground as the branches danced in each gust.

"Simon."

Did the forest mean something? He thought about purchasing one of those books that analyzes dreams based on key concepts.

"Simon!"

"Wha?" Simon jerked out of his weed-induced daydream. It was Milo, of course.
"Dude, you gotta go to class. Look at the time."
Simon looked at his watch. 10:35. "Shit." he said under his breath. "Eh, forget about it. We just had a quiz in history last class, so we probably won't have another one today." he concluded. "Look. Milo. There's something really weird I gotta tell you. So, I was on the bus, right? And I see this really cute girl sitting there reading her book. You'll never guess what I did."

Milo smirked.

"What?"

"I talked to her. But that's not the only thing. She has a tattoo of a swastika on her upper leg."

"Damn, you just met her 20 minutes ago and you're already-" Milo started to set up a joke but was quickly interrupted.

"This is serious, Milo. I think she's a neo-Nazi, and it makes me really uncomfortable. But on top of all that, she's actually a really interesting person, likes metal, and seems smart. I don't even know what to think. I hate her and at the same time I'm intrigued by her. To tell you the truth, I'm ****ing scared of her, man. What if she tries to kill me or something? Dude, I'm part Jewish, I think. I think I'm a quarter. Or an eighth. I don't know. Can't they tell just by looking? This is bad, man, real bad." Simon buried his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes for a solid minute as Milo smirked again and chuckled to himself.

"Wow, Simon, you really can't handle a joint. Listen, I think this is way too early to pass judgment. Just talk to her some more. Find out her deal. Turn on your charm if you need to, know what I mean?"

Simon looked at his watch again. It was almost 10:45. He had to get to class if he didn't want to be marked absent.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
WAT DO THE SMION ??? YUO ARE DECIDE TO VERY FUN GET!! IT CHOSEN!
A: Hurry off to class, high as a kite.
B: Look around the school for Melinda.
C: Go home for a nap.
D. Hurry off to class, high as a kite. And naked.
#77
D!!!!
Quote by kaptkegan
Don't think I've ever been sigged.


I pretty much never leave the drug thread anymore.
#78
D

This could get interesting.

EDIT: Damn, too late. I'm stoked for the next part for some reason, this is just awesome.
Last edited by yoman297 at Mar 19, 2012,
#79
Looking forward to history.

Also, re-reading fugtive.
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#80
A: Hurry off to class, high as a kite.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Yeah, thanks man," Simon muttered to Milo. "Anyways, I gotta get to class, so I'll see ya later." Simon rose.

"Wait dude," Milo said, handing Simon a little container of liquid. "Seriously."

"What the hell is this?" Simon said, inspecting it.

Milo laughed uproariously, "It's Visine. Holy shit, you must be so high right now."

"Whatever." Simon removed the lid off the plastic vial, tilted his head back, closed his left eye first and raised the dropper above his right eye. The ceiling was bouncing back and forth in his vision. He squeezed the dropper - and felt cool liquid run down his bottom eyelid.

"Nice aim, bro."

****! Too high for this.

He began another attempt. He tilted his head upwards to the shaking ceiling again, and raised the dropper to his right eye. Careful now... He inched the dropper closer to his eye, to assure that he wouldn't miss...

Someone bumped his arm, and the dropper jammed into his eye.

"AAHHHHHHHHH!!!!"

"I'm so sorry!!"

"Oh shit!"

"Hahaha!"

"Visine should fix that up."

"Fuck you, Milo!"

After recovering from his embarrassing bout of agony, accepting the person's apology, and successfully administering two drops to both of his eyes, he left the room in haste.

Hopefully nobody noticed that he was high. Especially O'Clark, his history teacher. Half an hour late and under the influence of marijuana was not the best way to come to class.

Milo would think differently. Simon laughed to himself.

Turn on your charm, Milo had said to him. Easy enough for you to say, Milo, you're never distressed about anything. Everything has always been easy for you. Life is just one big joke, right?

Well, it is. I know it's a joke. It's absurd. But there's no way I can bring myself to operate on the assumption that it's a joke. Something in my head wants me to take it seriously. If I could be Milo for just a day, that would be awesome.

Simon felt a tinge of jealousy, which was quickly repressed.

Hey now, I could at least TRY to stay calm. No bad feelings. Just stay calm. This will be a good day. He smiled tightly, trying not to break out into laughter.

Thoughts of Melinda began to form. No, you stay away. I'll deal with you later. You psychotic bitch.

Scenes from the bus began to rematerialize. He remembered ducking down to do his laces, and looking at her leg... But this time, Simon wasn't paying attention to the swastika. He decided to indulge in his impulsive thoughts.

Her leg had been so close to him - His face so close to her leg, looking so supple in the sunlight shining through the bus's window. His eyes trailed down to her little feet, which were covered by cute little dark blue slippers.

Now, why am I descending, when any other sane man would be ascending?

Her skirt had been pulled up to her knee. Just a little higher, and... Simon imagined placing his hand just on the inside of her soft thigh, hearing her sighing in restrained pleasure, Simon kissing her lips hard as he slid his hand up towards her warm, moist-

"HEY SIMON, WHERE YA GOIN?!"

Startled, Simon snapped back into reality. He had just inadvertently walked right past his history class, and some douchebag from inside had called him out on it.

Damn me and my human instincts.

Instincts, indeed. His pants were tight from trying to contain a raging boner.

What now?

----------------------------------------------------------------

A) Walk into the class.
B) Try to calm your penis down, then walk in.
C) Answer, "ABOUT TO GO **** YOUR MOTHER YOU PIECE OF SHIT"
D) Answer, "HOME," and then leave school.
E) Fap

Quote by Julz127
Looking forward to history.

Also, re-reading fugtive.


Good man.
Last edited by RedDeath9 at Mar 20, 2012,