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Changed line(s) 415,416 (click to see context) from:
->'''Problem:''' Your face looks like it's 58 and your body feels like it's 60. Your mind feels like it's lived for one day or a hundred. Both longer than they ought to be, the day and the century.... But for how long, then, has this thing attached to your sentience walked the planet’s crust? Time to start racking those brains of yours, Elder One. When and where were you born?\\
'''Solution:''' You were born in the year '07, in the last year of the Commune of Revachol, right before it fell. In the Old Military Hospital, on the ground floor where people usually came to die, during a snowstorm. The Revolution had about one year left to go and the fires were still burning bright. There were explosions in the blizzard. This was 44 years ago. You are 44 years old. The bloating might never leave your face, but beneath it -- you still have some years. You still have some hope.
'''Solution:''' You were born in the year '07, in the last year of the Commune of Revachol, right before it fell. In the Old Military Hospital, on the ground floor where people usually came to die, during a snowstorm. The Revolution had about one year left to go and the fires were still burning bright. There were explosions in the blizzard. This was 44 years ago. You are 44 years old. The bloating might never leave your face, but beneath it -- you still have some years. You still have some hope.
to:
->'''Problem:''' Your ''Your face looks like it's 58 and your body feels like it's 60. Your mind feels like it's lived for one day or a hundred. Both longer than they ought to be, the day and the century.... century... But for how long, then, has this thing attached to your sentience walked the planet’s planet's crust? Time to start racking those brains of yours, Elder One. When and where were you born?\\
born?''\\
'''Solution:'''You ''You were born in the year '07, in the last year of the Commune of Revachol, right before it fell. In the Old Military Hospital, on the ground floor where people usually came to die, during a snowstorm. The Revolution had about one year left to go and the fires were still burning bright. There were explosions in the blizzard. This was 44 years ago. You are 44 years old. The bloating might never leave your face, but beneath it -- you still have some years. You still have some hope.''
'''Solution:'''
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Changed line(s) 415 (click to see context) from:
->'''Problem:'''Your face looks like it's 58 and your body feels like it's 60. Your mind feels like it's lived for one day or a hundred. Both longer than they ought to be, the day and the century.... But for how long, then, has this thing attached to your sentience walked the planet’s crust? Time to start racking those brains of yours, Elder One. When and where were you born?\\
to:
Changed line(s) 417,418 (click to see context) from:
-->-- ''Date of Birth Generator
to:
-->-- ''Date of Birth Generator
Generator''
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None
Added DiffLines:
->'''Problem:'''Your face looks like it's 58 and your body feels like it's 60. Your mind feels like it's lived for one day or a hundred. Both longer than they ought to be, the day and the century.... But for how long, then, has this thing attached to your sentience walked the planet’s crust? Time to start racking those brains of yours, Elder One. When and where were you born?\\
'''Solution:''' You were born in the year '07, in the last year of the Commune of Revachol, right before it fell. In the Old Military Hospital, on the ground floor where people usually came to die, during a snowstorm. The Revolution had about one year left to go and the fires were still burning bright. There were explosions in the blizzard. This was 44 years ago. You are 44 years old. The bloating might never leave your face, but beneath it -- you still have some years. You still have some hope.
-->-- ''Date of Birth Generator
----
'''Solution:''' You were born in the year '07, in the last year of the Commune of Revachol, right before it fell. In the Old Military Hospital, on the ground floor where people usually came to die, during a snowstorm. The Revolution had about one year left to go and the fires were still burning bright. There were explosions in the blizzard. This was 44 years ago. You are 44 years old. The bloating might never leave your face, but beneath it -- you still have some years. You still have some hope.
-->-- ''Date of Birth Generator
----
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Changed line(s) 268 (click to see context) from:
->'''Logic:''' Sorry. You're not coming up with anything. Again, the pieces are there: she could have done it, somehow, something else, wala-wala-bing-bang — it's just not coming together.\\
to:
->'''Logic:''' Sorry. You're not coming up with anything. Again, the pieces are there: she could have done it, somehow, something else, wala-wala-bing-bang — -- it's just not coming together.\\
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Changed line(s) 264,265 (click to see context) from:
-->--'''Volition'''
to:
Added DiffLines:
->'''Logic:''' Sorry. You're not coming up with anything. Again, the pieces are there: she could have done it, somehow, something else, wala-wala-bing-bang — it's just not coming together.\\
'''You:''' Walla-walla-bing-bang?\\
'''Logic:''' I don't know what it means, but it felt like the most appropriate thing to say. That's what the *Witch Doctor* would say, at least.
----
'''You:''' Walla-walla-bing-bang?\\
'''Logic:''' I don't know what it means, but it felt like the most appropriate thing to say. That's what the *Witch Doctor* would say, at least.
----
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Changed line(s) 244 (click to see context) from:
'''You:''' What do you mean, *you are the city?*\\
to:
'''You:''' What do you mean, *you you are the city?*\\city?\\
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Changed line(s) 244 (click to see context) from:
'''You:''' What do you mean, you are the city?\\
to:
'''You:''' What do you mean, you *you are the city?\\city?*\\
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A Date With Rosie Palms is now a redirect to an index
Changed line(s) 189 (click to see context) from:
->'''Electrochemistry''' Look at her thighs, *between* her thighs and... What are you waiting for, man?! [[ADateWithRosiePalms PARTY]] WITH [[PageThreeStunna MISS PAGE-THREE]] ALL THE WAY TO DISCO ZERO!\\
to:
->'''Electrochemistry''' Look at her thighs, *between* her thighs and... What are you waiting for, man?! [[ADateWithRosiePalms PARTY]] PARTY WITH [[PageThreeStunna MISS PAGE-THREE]] ALL THE WAY TO DISCO ZERO!\\
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Deleted line(s) 98,103 (click to see context) :
->'''You:''' What's a "contact microphone"?\\
'''Acele:''' A contact mic records sounds from inside things. Like this ice.\\
'''Encyclopedia:''' Your mangled brain would like you to know that there is a boxer called Contact Mike.\\
'''You:''' Yeah? Any news on my wife's name? How about my mother?\\
'''Encyclopedia:''' [[BluntNo Nope.]] You're welcome.
'''Acele:''' A contact mic records sounds from inside things. Like this ice.\\
'''Encyclopedia:''' Your mangled brain would like you to know that there is a boxer called Contact Mike.\\
'''You:''' Yeah? Any news on my wife's name? How about my mother?\\
'''Encyclopedia:''' [[BluntNo Nope.]] You're welcome.
Changed line(s) 106,112 (click to see context) from:
->'''Inland Empire:''' What if *you* only appear as a large singular body, but are actually a congregation of tiny organisms working in unison?\\
'''Physical Instrument:''' Get out of here, dreamer! Don't you think we'd know about it?\\
'''Volition:''' If it were true those organisms would *not* be working *in unison*.\\
'''Endurance:''' That's because some of them just don't have the best interests of the colony in mind.\\
'''Electrochemistry:''' Hey, maybe if the rest of you took a chill-pill every now and then, they'd be more motivated?\\
'''Perception:''' Shut up, we can't hear what he's saying!
'''Physical Instrument:''' Get out of here, dreamer! Don't you think we'd know about it?\\
'''Volition:''' If it were true those organisms would *not* be working *in unison*.\\
'''Endurance:''' That's because some of them just don't have the best interests of the colony in mind.\\
'''Electrochemistry:''' Hey, maybe if the rest of you took a chill-pill every now and then, they'd be more motivated?\\
'''Perception:''' Shut up, we can't hear what he's saying!
to:
'''Physical Instrument:''' Get out of here, dreamer! Don't you think we'd know about it?\\
'''Volition:''' If it were true those organisms would *not* be working *in unison*.\\
'''Endurance:''' That's because some of them just don't have the best interests of the colony in mind.\\
'''Electrochemistry:''' Hey, maybe if the rest of you took a chill-pill every now and then, they'd be more motivated?\\
'''Perception:''' Shut up, we can't hear what he's saying!
-->-- '''Drama'''
Changed line(s) 115,124 (click to see context) from:
->'''You:''' ''(smell the ledger)''\\
'''Damaged Ledger:''' The acidic stench of rotting food has rubbed off on the cellulose. It now forms the *base* of the experience. This base surrounded by a faint air of spoiled meat -- the stuff of death itself! -- and then sprinkled liberally with the citrus zest of toilet cleaner.\\
'''Perception:''' You know -- like the bits they put into public piss bowls; probably called *Fermi-Discrete* or *Axel* or something. At some point in its journey the ledger has seen the inside of a public toilet.\\
'''You:''' I know, I know. Sylvie already told me I dunked it in the toilet.\\
'''Perception:''' If you knew it was dunked in the toilet before getting chucked into the trash, why're you sniffing it?\\
'''You:''' Maybe, uh-- Maybe it's my fetish? Maybe? Ever think of that, nose?\\
'''Perception:''' Garbage-toilet stink is not your fetish and you know it. Your nose does *not* fucking like this.\\
'''You:''' Are you angry with me, nose?\\
'''Perception:''' Yeah, turns out your nose doesn't like self-indulgent literal-shit huffing. *Quelle fuckin' surprise*. Come on, no more -- the ledger is going back down, away from your nose now.
'''Damaged Ledger:''' The acidic stench of rotting food has rubbed off on the cellulose. It now forms the *base* of the experience. This base surrounded by a faint air of spoiled meat -- the stuff of death itself! -- and then sprinkled liberally with the citrus zest of toilet cleaner.\\
'''Perception:''' You know -- like the bits they put into public piss bowls; probably called *Fermi-Discrete* or *Axel* or something. At some point in its journey the ledger has seen the inside of a public toilet.\\
'''You:''' I know, I know. Sylvie already told me I dunked it in the toilet.\\
'''Perception:''' If you knew it was dunked in the toilet before getting chucked into the trash, why're you sniffing it?\\
'''You:''' Maybe, uh-- Maybe it's my fetish? Maybe? Ever think of that, nose?\\
'''Perception:''' Garbage-toilet stink is not your fetish and you know it. Your nose does *not* fucking like this.\\
'''You:''' Are you angry with me, nose?\\
'''Perception:''' Yeah, turns out your nose doesn't like self-indulgent literal-shit huffing. *Quelle fuckin' surprise*. Come on, no more -- the ledger is going back down, away from your nose now.
to:
->'''You:''' ''(smell the ledger)''\\
'''Damaged Ledger:''' The acidic stench of rotting food has rubbed off on the cellulose. It now forms the *base* of the experience. This base surrounded byWhat's a faint air of spoiled meat -- the stuff of death itself! -- and then sprinkled liberally with the citrus zest of toilet cleaner."contact microphone"?\\
'''Acele:''' A contact mic records sounds from inside things. Like this ice.\\
'''Perception:''' You '''Encyclopedia:''' Your mangled brain would like you to know -- like the bits they put into public piss bowls; probably that there is a boxer called *Fermi-Discrete* or *Axel* or something. At some point in its journey the ledger has seen the inside of a public toilet.Contact Mike.\\
'''You:'''I know, I know. Sylvie already told me I dunked it in the toilet.\\
'''Perception:''' If you knew it was dunked in the toilet before getting chucked into the trash, why're you sniffing it?\\
'''You:''' Maybe, uh-- Maybe it'sYeah? Any news on my fetish? Maybe? Ever think of that, nose?\\
'''Perception:''' Garbage-toilet stink is not your fetish and you know it. Your nose does *not* fucking like this.\\
'''You:''' Are you angry with me, nose?\\
'''Perception:''' Yeah, turns out your nose doesn't like self-indulgent literal-shit huffing. *Quelle fuckin' surprise*. Come on, no more -- the ledger is going back down, away from your nose now.
wife's name? How about my mother?\\
'''Encyclopedia:''' [[BluntNo Nope.]] You're welcome.
'''Damaged Ledger:''' The acidic stench of rotting food has rubbed off on the cellulose. It now forms the *base* of the experience. This base surrounded by
'''Acele:''' A contact mic records sounds from inside things. Like this ice.\\
'''You:'''
'''Perception:''' If you knew it was dunked in the toilet before getting chucked into the trash, why're you sniffing it?\\
'''You:''' Maybe, uh-- Maybe it's
'''Perception:''' Garbage-toilet stink is not your fetish and you know it. Your nose does *not* fucking like this.\\
'''You:''' Are you angry with me, nose?\\
'''Perception:''' Yeah, turns out your nose doesn't like self-indulgent literal-shit huffing. *Quelle fuckin' surprise*. Come on, no more -- the ledger is going back down, away from your nose now.
'''Encyclopedia:''' [[BluntNo Nope.]] You're welcome.
Added DiffLines:
->'''Inland Empire:''' What if *you* only appear as a large singular body, but are actually a congregation of tiny organisms working in unison?\\
'''Physical Instrument:''' Get out of here, dreamer! Don't you think we'd know about it?\\
'''Volition:''' If it were true those organisms would *not* be working *in unison*.\\
'''Endurance:''' That's because some of them just don't have the best interests of the colony in mind.\\
'''Electrochemistry:''' Hey, maybe if the rest of you took a chill-pill every now and then, they'd be more motivated?\\
'''Perception:''' Shut up, we can't hear what he's saying!
----
->'''You:''' ''(smell the ledger)''\\
'''Damaged Ledger:''' The acidic stench of rotting food has rubbed off on the cellulose. It now forms the *base* of the experience. This base surrounded by a faint air of spoiled meat -- the stuff of death itself! -- and then sprinkled liberally with the citrus zest of toilet cleaner.\\
'''Perception:''' You know -- like the bits they put into public piss bowls; probably called *Fermi-Discrete* or *Axel* or something. At some point in its journey the ledger has seen the inside of a public toilet.\\
'''You:''' I know, I know. Sylvie already told me I dunked it in the toilet.\\
'''Perception:''' If you knew it was dunked in the toilet before getting chucked into the trash, why're you sniffing it?\\
'''You:''' Maybe, uh-- Maybe it's my fetish? Maybe? Ever think of that, nose?\\
'''Perception:''' Garbage-toilet stink is not your fetish and you know it. Your nose does *not* fucking like this.\\
'''You:''' Are you angry with me, nose?\\
'''Perception:''' Yeah, turns out your nose doesn't like self-indulgent literal-shit huffing. *Quelle fuckin' surprise*. Come on, no more -- the ledger is going back down, away from your nose now.
----
'''Physical Instrument:''' Get out of here, dreamer! Don't you think we'd know about it?\\
'''Volition:''' If it were true those organisms would *not* be working *in unison*.\\
'''Endurance:''' That's because some of them just don't have the best interests of the colony in mind.\\
'''Electrochemistry:''' Hey, maybe if the rest of you took a chill-pill every now and then, they'd be more motivated?\\
'''Perception:''' Shut up, we can't hear what he's saying!
----
->'''You:''' ''(smell the ledger)''\\
'''Damaged Ledger:''' The acidic stench of rotting food has rubbed off on the cellulose. It now forms the *base* of the experience. This base surrounded by a faint air of spoiled meat -- the stuff of death itself! -- and then sprinkled liberally with the citrus zest of toilet cleaner.\\
'''Perception:''' You know -- like the bits they put into public piss bowls; probably called *Fermi-Discrete* or *Axel* or something. At some point in its journey the ledger has seen the inside of a public toilet.\\
'''You:''' I know, I know. Sylvie already told me I dunked it in the toilet.\\
'''Perception:''' If you knew it was dunked in the toilet before getting chucked into the trash, why're you sniffing it?\\
'''You:''' Maybe, uh-- Maybe it's my fetish? Maybe? Ever think of that, nose?\\
'''Perception:''' Garbage-toilet stink is not your fetish and you know it. Your nose does *not* fucking like this.\\
'''You:''' Are you angry with me, nose?\\
'''Perception:''' Yeah, turns out your nose doesn't like self-indulgent literal-shit huffing. *Quelle fuckin' surprise*. Come on, no more -- the ledger is going back down, away from your nose now.
----
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Don't want to fill the quote page with every thought cabinet from the game, but there's enough love for The Precarious World solution that its presence seems merited.
Changed line(s) 406 (click to see context) from:
to:
-->-- ''The Precarious World''
