=>Dungeonstuck 6348072951

[TribulatoryTerminator]

It's quiet...

A breeze rushes through the tops of the mahogany trees laid sparsely around the street.

It's always like this, the quiet before the storm. Since you were a child, you've been able to sense big events on the horizon. Fate didn't grant you with a knowledge of what these events are going to be though, so you've taken to assuming that it's just a feeling you get. It hardly ever bothers you anymore. So, you're standing outside, with the chill of winter seeping through your thin clothing. But there remains one question, a question that has been waiting to be asked since the day of your birth. A question that could change your fate forever.





WHAT IS YOUR NAME?

[Kíeros]

>Dun Jun.

Or more seriously: >Bryce Pindall

[SkyKat]

Karvin Cerkan

[FeelingsofDisorientation]

>Francis Char

[Naristar]

Chadwick Smithson

[whimsicalGuru]

>Cruentus Obadiah

[TribulatoryTerminator]

=> ENTER NAME

Your name is Bryce Pindall. You recently acquired the rank AGE FIFTEEN. You're a tall, slim boy; some would even call you lanky. You have a heavy interest in robotics and engineering, and also writing. But nobody knows of the writing.
You have black hair with streaks of red throughout, and you have very pale skin. You are wearing a dark, mossy green turtleneck, and those long shorts with the huge pockets that you love. These clothes are much too thin for sustaining your current body temperature in this chilly, outdoor weather.

WHAT DO YOU DO?

[Naristar]

Get thee into yonder dwelling if it be yours!

[FeelingsofDisorientation]

>Go find somewhere heated.

[TribulatoryTerminator]

=>Get thee into yonder dwelling if it be yours.
=>Go find somewhere heated.

You do a quick turn-around and enter the small, dingy-looking house behind you. Conveniently for you, it just so happens to be your house. You're standing in a small room. It has dark mahogany walls and furniture. There's a small armchair to your right, with a table covered in books next to it. That's where you spend most of your time. The floor is covered with a deep blue and green carpet, sort of resembling an ocean. To your left lies a wooden desk with a swivel chair in front of it. On the desk is a computer. More specifically; it's YOUR computer.

It's comfortably warm in here, the heater is working at maximum power to supply you with a nice atmosphere. You stop shivering and ponder what to do.

What do you do?

[Naristar]

close the door behind you your letting in a draft!!
do a Jig

[FeelingsofDisorientation]

>Spin rapidly in the swivel chair.

[TribulatoryTerminator]

=>Close the door you're letting in a draft.
=>Do a jig.
=>Spin rapidly in the swivel chair.

You feel a slight draft that sends chills up your spine. You turn around and see that the door is still open. Stupid, how did you not notice that! You quickly close it, sending the warmth caress your body. It's all better in here now.

You ponder on whether or not to do a jig, but you eventually come to the conclusion that it would look incredibly silly! You never want to do anything silly, because there's always the slight chance that someone is watching you. You're sort of paranoid about conspiracies like that. Also the one that Congress declared pizza a vegetable. It's obviously a ploy, because nobody could ever be that stupid.

You go over to the desk to open your computer, but you're quickly distracted by the dark green swivel chair. You even forget about your 'No silliness' policy for a few minutes, and spend that time spinning around the entire room. You were never exactly sure why, but swivel chairs are the most fun you've ever had in this house.

[Naristar]

Try to stand but suffer dizzyness

[FeelingsofDisorientation]

>Go onto your favorite conspiracy websites.

[TribulatoryTerminator]

>Try to stand but suffer dizziness.
>Go onto your favorite conspiracy websites.

You attempt to arise from the swivel chair after all of that tomfoolery. But your body suffers from the aftereffects of the silliness! This is why you put that policy into place, you guess. You instead decide to sit back down in the plush chair and take a gander at your conspiracy sites. You open up your laptop and click on your browser. It's the one that looks like a small purple snake in an infinity symbol. It's called Ourobouros, and it's the best browser in the world. You go onto mysteriousmysticismofconspiracystoriesandfabledmon sterhaven.com. It looks like there's a new story on the front page. You decide to read it, so you click on the link.

"1979, Dallas Texas. 12.23 AM. A nice old lady decides to make a tuna sandwich. But all the way in New York, New York, her daughter, at 12.23, decides to make almost the exact same sandwich! Is this a mystery!? Or a hoax??? You tell us...

There's more, but you don't have to read it, since you were the one who submitted the story. You don't actually believe in conspiracies like that, you just like screwing with the believer's heads.

[Naristar]

start talking to someone

[FeelingsofDisorientation]

>Go to some other website you like.

[wolftamer9]

> Get a Cease and Desist letter from the government for one of your articles.

[TribulatoryTerminator]

Author's Notes: Everybody who reads this, don't be afraid to post. Even if it's just 'do this' I really appreciate it when people comment. It makes it seem like more of a group, homey thing, and it gives me ideas on what to write!
>Start talking to someone.
>Go to some other website you like.
>Get a cease and desist letter from the government for one of your articles.

Start talking... to someone? You aren't quite sure you understand. Anyway none of your friends are on the internets right now, so there's no point in trying to reach them. Instead, you pull up a tab with your email open. You look into your inbox, and see three new emails. Two of them are from the government telling you to stop screwing with the minds of the gullible sheep they call people, but you just spam those. They don't even have the power to enforce their strongly-worded threats.

You open up the third email. It's from somebody, but you don't know who it is. Aw, crap! The guy wrote in all white! You hate it when people do that, it just makes them seem unlikeable and desperate for attention. Besides, that's your thing! Anybody who knows you knows that you are the 'White Mage'. But what the hell. You highlight the text and take a gander.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Hello Mr. Pindall. It has come to my attention that you are apt at storytelling and falsehood.

I would appreciate it if you could help me with the monumental task I have ahead. You see...

You decide to stop reading the email, because it's boring and frankly, you don't like how this guy insults you.

[Naristar]

send him a scathing reply

[TribulatoryTerminator]

>Send him a scathing reply.

You go to look for his email so you can tell him just what you think of him, real white mage style, all peaceful and pale, but when you actually look, his email address isn't there! You even try highlighting the place where it's supposed to be, but there's nothing. So you can't do anything. This sucks. You feel bad for a little bit, but then you realize that you really don't care what some wannabe you thinks about you, I mean he obviously adores you if he's copying you. You decide to spin around for a bit longer. WheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeohwaitthisisSTUPID!

[Naristar]

Work on your pet project its a Weapon of mass.....Distraction!!!!
robots are fun

[wolftamer9]

> See if your limey friend is online. Spam him with messages that he should help with one of your projects.

> Spikey-Haired internet troll: F**k with the white mage.

[TribulatoryTerminator]

> See if your limey friend is online. Spam him with messages that he should help with one of your projects.
> Spikey-Haired internet troll: F**k with the white mage.

Your friend prefers to be called British, not limey. Really, limey is more of an insult than anything else. You pull up the Pesterchum icon, and to your luck, he's online! You strike up a conversation with him.

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BP: Hey, dude.
RG: Wh4ssup, m4n?
BP: N0t much, I was just w0ndering h0w much it must hurt when y0ur hair p0kes y0u in the eyes. Seri0usly dude, that stuff is spikey!
RG: Re4lly!? More h4ir jokes? You know, somed4y I'm just gonn4 st4rt m4king fun of your person4lity 4nd quirks!
RG: FYI, it's this w4y when I w4ke up, dumb4ss.
BP: Alright, alright. Hey, y0u kn0w that white text guy I was telling y0u ab0ut getting all up in my face?
RG: Ye4h, the phony f4key-f4ke tot4lly ste4ling your whole white m4ge 4ct guy, right?
BP: Him. S0, I was just g0ing 0n my mail, and he t0tally sends me this creepy-ass message. Here, I'll send it t0 y0u.

You send your friend the message that you neglected to read through fully.

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hide spoiler

RG: Sorry, m4n, I h4ve to go right this second, serious shit is t4king pl4ce.

That was a short conversation. However, you do get to explain to anybody that may somehow be reading your exploits about the number thing. You and a bunch of your pals; ten to be exact, decided to incorporate numbers into your typing to set you apart from the brainless masses without a weird quirk. Yours is zero because it would be hard to include 10 into the things that you type very often. Also, you think it makes you more mysterious.

But you're wrong.