@wolftamer9 I'm loving this much more than I ever expected. I thought drawing would be a huge pain, so I originally planned to make this a text-based adventure. Then I decided that that's basically a traditional story anyway, so I switched formats before I began, and started planning, writing, and uploading the original story. Then I saw that other people had text only adventures, so I thought I could too, so I decided to switch to adventure format. But for some reason, I decided drawing wasn't too hard, and, as you can see, every update has an image. That is why this adventure is no longer in its trial period (and I switched the OP to reflect this fact).
Also, if I didn't care what other people thought, I wouldn't be creating anything. The only purpose of creative pursuit is for the enjoyment of others. That is, the only reason for the actual fabrication of art is for other people. You yourself already know what goes on in your mind, so you may as well just think about whatever you want, unless you want other people to see it too. And yeah, I do enjoy the fact that people enjoy it, and the fact that more people enjoy this format is a large factor in my decision to keep it this way. It wouldn't be enough if that was the only reason, but as I said, I love this format even more than conventional writing. I like the fact that I can actually see my words, and I love the fact that other people are able to contribute, yet I still maintain most of the control.
> Why don't we switch perspectives while she packs?
What a wonderfully plot-furthering suggestion. You are now this guy. Hang on, something's wrong...
It seems you cannot be this guy, or interact with this scene at all! It has been time locked, and cannot be accessed until the timer reaches zero. 4 days, 11 hours, and 12 minutes to go! Let's just go back to Gwen.
There she is. Looks like our momentary distraction was enough to allow her to finish packing off-screen. There were doubtlessly many shenanigans that we would have had to endure if not for time-saving plot devices.
She must certainly be through packing her CAPTCHA-CASE, as it is sitting to her side. Fascinating piece of technology, that suitcase. But you don't want to listen to some spiel about luggage. And neither does Gwen. By the look of ire on her face, it seems it is time for her to go.
Last edited by psychapprentice; 02-12-2012 at 09:00 AM.
Alright guys, End of Prologue! What do you guys think so far?
Also, I'm taking a short break, for about a day or two, so I can get acclimated to the new Spring Semester. After that, I'm probably going to slow down on the updates for a while, so that it doesn't take a toll on my studies. Then again, I didn't intend to update this fast originally, but drawing was much easier than I thought. Plus, now that I have spriteability, drawing should probably go faster than it did in the way beginning. So I may or may not go slower after the break.
Man, I can't wait to show you guys all the things I have planned! This is going to be one hell of an adventure, and I hope you guys help me along!
Did I make it abundantly clear that I love you guys yet? Because I do.
EDIT: Mansion design based on this
Last edited by psychapprentice; 01-30-2012 at 09:12 PM.
Ah, you guys knew I couldn't stay away! I'm going to try from now on to limit myself to one update a day. Although, the temptation of procrastination might occasionally be to much to bear. We'll see.
==> Chapter 1
Chapter 16- Tooth and Claw
Rosa stood trembling in front of a cast-iron gate. It was taller than any she'd ever seen before, and much more ornate. They didn't have villas like this where she was from. Or rather, when she was from. She and the Professor had traveled to 19th century Scotland, but he refused to tell her why. He muttered something about “discovering her true self.”
They had seen the mansion in the distance, and had walked toward it, in the hopes of finding the owner of the manor, but now they stood, blocked by locked gates, unable to reach their goal. It was cold outside, and Rosa wasn't exactly dressed for winter in Scotland. She had come to the professor's lab that day wearing short sleeves and a miniskirt, because she had assumed that the professor would fulfill the promise he had made earlier to take her to the planet Barcelona. She now regretted her outfit with clenched teeth and blue lips.
She tried shaking on the gate, which made a loud noise as the chain binding it closed rattled. It did not budge though.
“Professor, please do something,” she whined, turning to face her mentor. “I'm going to freeze to death out here! Can't we just go to Barcelona?”
“Not yet. I have to figure out what your 'true self' is.”
“My true self is freezing! Please take me home!”
Her face had become pleading, and he almost reneged when he saw a light came on in one of the windows of the building. It was the flickering light of a flame. A figure appeared in the window, and gazed down at them for a second before retreating. The light was slowly overtaken by a shadow, as the person exited their room.
“Look, see?” said the Professor. “Someone's coming to let us in.”
“Yeah, or shoot us! We don't know who that is. They could be a serial killer!”
“A serial killer, living in an enormous estate?”
“I don't know, maybe!”
They stopped bickering when the front door to the mansion opened, and a man stepped out. He was holding a candelabra in one hand, and what appeared to be a sidearm in the other. He was wearing a gray nightshirt, with matching pants underneath. He had also thrown on a black coat, but still seemed to be shivering. He walked hesitantly toward them, the hand with the gun slightly in front.
“See, look. I told you he was going to shoot us,” she whispered.
“Now, we don't know that,” he whispered back. He raised his voice as the man grew nearer, and said “Say, you're not going to shoot us, are you?”
You are currently in the Glasswrights' foyer, and will soon be joining them in the sitting room. Of course, you'd rather sit in the fire, since you recall these people as being THE most boring humans on the planet, but to point that out would be rude.
So far, the only thing keeping you from snapping is this printout of "The Powell Estate," an online story by your friend, Will. You purposely stopped reading it a few weeks before the trip, so you would have something to keep you occupied.
Last edited by psychapprentice; 02-25-2012 at 08:03 AM.