Skeletrom Crew On The Loose!

##Skeletorn Crew On The Loose! [[It is the night of All Hallows Eve, and you and your skellingtime crew are the scariest dudes in the whole boneyard.->Intro]] <div style="font-size: smaller">(link-reveal:"Click for technical details")[ Skeletrom Crew On The Loose! v.1.3.6, Aug 12 2026 Written in Twine v.2.3.16 Works pretty good on Chrome and Firefox; Safari acts weird sometimes. ]</div>

It is the night of All Hallows Eve, the one night a year that you and your fellow bonefolk emerge from your sleep of death. One by one, your skelertrong crew drag themselves from the mortal loam and shake off the clods of grave dirt. The moonlight traces your bones in silver. Goths would think this is just the greatest. (if:$kyle_bad is true)[Unfortunately, all that's left in this graveyard are some piles of bones. And [[Kyle.->Kyle description]] It seems like something very bad has happened. Would you like to reset to a normal, spellotron-filled version of events? [[Yes pls->intro-reset]] [[No ty, I will be Kyle->Kyle description]] [[No ty, I am ready to rejoin the living->Game end]] ](else:)[ [[There's Frank. Frank was a joiner in the 50s.->Frank description]] [[There's Aubrey. Aubrey gave rise to a whole genre of skellingtom boyfriends.->Aubrey description]] [[There's Hildegarde, the oldest skellerthing in the crew.->Hildegarde description]] [[There's Rupert and Spot. They are dogs. (Or, at least, Rupert is.)->Dogs description]] [[There's Kyle.->Kyle description]] ] <div style="font-size: smaller">(link:"Would you like to see some content notes?")[''Content notes:'' ''All paths:'' Descriptions of skeletons. ''Aubrey:'' Mentions of bodily fluids, rot, and non-skeletal corpses. Non-consensual posession. To avoid non-consensual possession, stay out of the woods. ''Frank:'' Mild visual shaking. ''Hildegarde:'' PG-13 violence, blood, and alcohol use. ''Kyle:'' Worms; kyleshaming. ''Rupert and Spot:'' Mentions of bugs and bodily fluids, some disturbing themes.]

''You are Frank''. You have weathered to the classic ivory of antique piano keys. You are a broad, sturdy rack of bones, missing the tip of your left index finger after a shear-related mishap in your youth. You wonder, occasionally, when you rise on moonlit nights, if the tip of your finger is out there, somewhere, thinking of you. They buried you with your tools. Your plane, your saw, your rasps and augers — they're all here. The chisels you used on the cherry cabinet that Frank Lloyd Wright called "a fun little piece." The lathe you used on all those award-winning legs. Your hands are a little stiffer than they used to be, but you can still fit a dove joint that would make Noah weep. It's a beautiful night, and you think you see some oak planks over by the dumpsters. [[Yeah, that seems right.->Frank action 1]] [[Me? Frank?? Impossible->Intro]]

You are ''Aubrey''. When you had hair, it was scandalously long and flowing. You have long, elegant carpals, and the kind of clavicles people write elegies to. You are the color of moonlight on grecian alabaster, and your eye sockets are as deep as forgotten dreams. You used to write poems for virgins to murmur as they strolled along the tide-wracked strand. The poems had to be engaging enough to support many hours of murmuring, but not so engaging that the virgins were surprised by waves and carried out to sea. Sure, a couple murmuring virgins carried out to sea was good for your reputation, but after that, people started to make jokes. "Hey, Aubrey," they'd say. "Maybe you should call your next poem 'Watch Out For Waves.'" The jokes were not good, but still, they laughed. [[Mood.->Aubrey 1]] [[Absolutely not. I cannot with this guy.->Intro]]

You are ''Hildegarde''. You are the oldest scellerton in the whole place. You were a beautiful spill of ivory when all these other clowns were, uh, what do you call someone 500 years before their great-grandparents were born? Eh, who cares, you are an ancient badass and you knew how to stab people 70 different ways before you turned twelve. And after you turned twelve? Forget it. We aren’t ready to hear about what happened when you turned twelve. [[COWER! FOR I AM HILDEGARDE!!->Hildegarde 1]] [[I am not ready to be Hildegarde.->Intro]]

''You are'' what goes bump in the night. ''You are the footsteps in the darkness.'' Crawling with maggots, mottled with decay, you blend perfectly into the shadows, except for the moonlight gleam of your teeth. You are fear. You are the scraping footstep in the dark. You are death on silent wings. You are ''Kyle''. [[Yes. YES->Kyle disco 1]] [[Oh, noooo.->Intro]]

Sorry, you can't be Kyle yet; I'm still writing them. Right now, you can be [[Frank->Frank description]], [[Aubrey->Aubrey description]], [[Rupert and Spot->Dogs description]], or [[Hildegarde->Hildegarde description]].

Ayup, you're Frank. You just climbed up out of your grave on All Hallow's Eve. The rest of the crew is doing the same thing, (link-reveal:"the miserable reprobates.")[ You don't really fit with the rest of the crew. They have weird hobbies, like disco dancing and eating children. You hang out with them because that's where your grave is, but you'd rather be checking out those [[wood planks by the dumpster->Frank dumpster]].] To the north you see a [[dumpster.->Frank dumpster]]

The dumpster is green. It's full of the usual garbage, but at its base someone has stacked some (link-reveal:"oak planks.")[ There are a bunch of them, all different sizes and dimensions. They might be salvageable. They’ve seen better days. [[So have I. Take planks->Frank planks taken]]]

<p>You take the planks. </p><p>To the east you see a library. (link-reveal:"There's a light on.</p>")[<p>It really is a beautiful night. You remember a night like this decades ago, when the library first opened. The head librarian was a real spitfire.</p><p>[[Check out the library->Frank library]]]</p>

You mosey over to the library. It’s a gorgeous old Carnegie building, with dark red brick in diamond patterns set off by bricks of pale St. Paul sandstone. Its proportions are perfect. Those Corinthian capitals are original, but they are as crisp as the day they were first chisled. [[There’s a light on inside.->Frank library 1b]]

You rest your sacrum on the railing. It seems like a good life. Spending their days in this beautiful building, helping people find the knowledge they seek, then making everything ready for the next seeker. Knowledge and ideas, like wood, can be a strong foundation to build on. After a while, they turn off the lights, open the front door, and lock it behind them. There's plenty of space on the landing, so you're not in their way. Turning away from the door, they notice you and startle, but you keep still, your hands resting on the railing. They look you up and down and then nod slightly. “Library opens at 9,” they inform you. [[Nod back.->Frank library 3]]

Dropping the library keys in their shoulder bag, they march down the stairs and into the night. [[They look like they could appreciate good craftsmanship.->Frank choice tech]] [[They look like they could use a solid place to rest.->Frank choice human]]

You consider again the wood you found by the dumpster. There are only a few sound boards; the rest are warped, or cracked, or mildewed. They are unworthy of the work you will do. You discard them. The few pieces remaining will suit. You plane them perfectly level. With hammer and chisel you shape them. Your movements are deft and economical; every action perfectly calculated to achieve your design. You do not redo. You do not refine. You do nothing that is not necessary. Every motion is art. Your actions are inevitable and flawless. [[Your work is a necessary function of the world.->Frank tech 2]]

You pull the hand planer from your tool box. Now that you're looking more closely, the boards you found by the dumpster are good; it's only the outer layer warped by moisture and mildew. You strip off the damaged wood, bit by bit, until the planks are smooth and straight. [[Your shoulders start to feel... not warm, but what might be warm, if you still had muscles.->Frank human 2]]

When you finish, it is a shimmering island, the grain of the oak spreading in ripples suspended before carved arches that match the leading on the library windows. A book can rest, open, against those arches. Another arch can be raised to hold the book open. Every surface is smoothed to satin. Every edge is crisp, every corner just, every curve a joy to behold. You have made a book stand that unites the architecture of the library’s facade with the warm, glowing wood of its interior, and ties them together in harmony and rectitude. You have made a book stand that reconciles. You give it a final rub of beeswax and set it outside the library’s front door. The librarian will find it in the morning, recognize its quality, and use it for its intended purpose. The concrete beneath the book stand glows softly. [[The library seems to sit up straighter.->Frank tech denoue]]

You turn to descend the library steps. There are a few hours left before dawn, and you think you might correct a park bench or redeem a telephone pole before your long sleep. The night is open before you. Suddenly, a mighty wind lifts; a mighty sound trembles in the chambers of your bones. (after:5s)[''(text-style:"bold","smear","expand","fidget")[(text-colour:white)[NICE WORK, JUNIOR,]]'' says a voice like the rise and fall of mountains. (after:7s)[ ''(text-style:"bold","smear","expand","fidget")[(text-colour:white)[GOOD JOB WITH THAT INTERIOR ANGLE.]]'' It is a voice like the circumference of a circle. The wind converts everything to right angles. The voice is a spiral in cross-section. (after:11s)[ ''(text-style:"bold","smear","expand","fidget")[(text-colour:white)[FEEL LIKE GIVING US A HAND WITH SOME THINGS?]]'' Your answer is a single snowflake in a (link-reveal:"blizzard.")[ [["Yes," you dissolve.->Frank tech denoue 2]]]]]]

(set: $frank_gone to true)You are crushed, crushed and exploded, crushed to the smallest space between muons and exploded to house galaxies in your trebeculae. You see every angle and join of the universe. You see your crew, settling into their graves. You see them rising next year, and rising last year, and laying quiet under the worms. You see everything that is, and everything that could be. There is so, so much that could be. [[Your hands tingle with the desire to get started.->Frank end tech]]

[[''You are everywhere''->Game end]]

It starts to take shape beneath you. Clean lines, echoing and amplifying the grain of the wood, soaring out of a solid foundation of oak. You try to let the wood speak through the shape instead of hiding it in artifice. It's not as effortless as you remember; at your best, your hands had knowledge and opinions of their own. You could bring out the best and strongest of the wood with a few sure strokes. Now, you hesitate; you make some false moves. You nick one of the main pieces right across the heartwood. But everything, even these mistakes, are part of the history of the wood, and worth honoring. [[You turn the nick into a bowed notch, and it draws the eye.->Frank human 3]]

In the end, it is beautiful. It isn't as spare and elegant as you would have made in your youth. It's a little rawer, a little heavier-boned, with the spiral ridge of your radius in the arch of the backrest. You angle the notch towards the front of the seat. It is a chair that only one person (or animated skellertine) in the world could have made; it is a chair that no other wood could become. It is itself. [[It is a life->Frank human 4]].

(set: $frank_gone to false)You carry it to the library and set it down gently by the front door. You hope the librarian will find it tomorrow morning, but it doesn't really matter. You honored the wood, the recipient, and your own skill. You did what you, and you alone, could do. What happens now is not your business. The moonlight gleams against the fresh lacquer, and you can almost smell it, even now, when the soft tissue in your nose is a memory. You set the empty can next to the chair, so they know what to use if they have to refinish it. [[You head back to the graveyard->Frank human 5]].

(link-reveal:"You see the scalerdown crew, sitting on the edges of their graves and yammering.")[(if: $aubrey_gone is true)[ Aubrey doesn't seem to be back yet.](if:$aubrey_ghost is true)[ There's Aubrey, and he's got a whole new look](else:)[(if: $aubrey_bad is true)[ There's Aubrey, looking like he could use a good buff and polish.](else:)[ There's Aubrey, with an adoring young person on each arm.]] (if: $dogs_gone is true)[The two dogs, Spot and Rupert, are still out running around somewhere.](else:)[The two dogs, Spot and Rupert, are very interested in something lumpy.] You've always had a soft spot for Spot. Heh. (if: $hildegarde_gone is true)[You don't see Hildegarde.](else:)[There's Hildegarde, wiping something off her sword.] There's Kyle. Ugh.] You don't pay attention. Your bones ache. It's the welcome feeling of good labor, and something else, also. The perfect tired after the perfect day’s work. You feel as if you could sleep [[forever->Frank human 6]].

You relax into the remains of your coffin. It was a good one; you didn’t make it yourself, but you know who did. Today, possibly for the first time, you feel you have been worthy of it. The grave dirt settles into the spaces between your ribs and into the fora of your skull. It blocks out all light, muffles all sound. [[You let it all go->Frank human 7]].

[[You were Frank.->Game end]]

You are ''Rupert and Spot''. Rupert was... maybe a Basset hound? He has a wide, low frame, anyway, and a threadbare green collar that says "Rupert". Sounds like a Bassett hound name. His interests are sticks, balls, holes, people, and Spot. Spot is just one bone. Spot is a small bone. Nobody's really sure what kind of dog Spot used to be, or if they were a dog at all; they aren't a very specific bone. But they bounce along at about dog height, and they spend a lot of time with Rupert, so "dog" is as good a guess as any. Spot's interests are bouncing, tapping things, and Rupert. [[I am every dog->Dogs 1]] [[Actually, no->Intro]]

(set: $frank_gone to false)Something like a breath drifts upwards and [[away->Frank human end]].

You rise up out of your grave in the tatters of the morning suit you were buried in. It was dove grey, with a slate-gray pinstripe so impeccably narrow it made three consecutive tailors cry. Now, the tatters float around you like shreds of mist on a Paris street at 4am. ''4am, the hour when only lovers are awake.'' Under the caress of the tender moonlight, you see the rest of the (link-reveal:"crew.")[ * There’s Frank. He’s poor in education but rich in the Life of the Mind. * There’s Hildegarde. She's the only one you feel you can talk to, even if she mostly grunts in response. * There’s Rupert and Spot. You have never gotten along with dogs- no sense of elegance or finesse. Still, you appreciate their brute authenticity. * There’s Kyle. You prefer not to think about Kyle.] You also see a [[brightly-lit downtown strip->Aubrey city 1]] and [[the night, dark and lovely, settled over a silent forest->Aubrey nature 1]].

You see a brightly-lit downtown strip. It sears the eye with colors not created by nature, and you crave it. How long has it been since you’ve waltzed beneath the gaslights, since you have quaked with the heat of a shared glance or swooned with delight under the onslaught of a concerto? You want lights! You want sounds! You want the heady rush of new ideas, propounded by bearded illuminati in a crowded cafe! You want to feel ALIVE! Or whatever approximates that feeling, now you’ve become an animated skellerman. [[GIVE ME LIFE->Aubrey city 2]] [[It sears my tender sensibilities! I wish to bathe in the pure solace of nature!->Aubrey nature 1]]

(set: $aubrey_gone to false)The lights! The excitement of the city! The whirl of voices and ideas! The colors and scents, the rich sauces and savory cuts of a meal finely prepared, the face-melting bitterness of a well-percolated cup of coffee opening the eyes and the mind to new ideas. You’ve rested too long in your shady bed; now, it is time to //live//! You head towards [[the neon street.->Aubrey city 3]]

You see the night, dark and lovely, settled over a silent forest. What dreams drift in deepest darkness? What wonders walk its winding ways? You crave the silken shadows, the sacred silence. You long for the caress of wind on your zygomatic arch. You think with wist of trailing your phalanges over an autumnal shrub; of letting yourself be swallowed by brutal nature, and touching its wild heart. [[Yes. Nature, balm to a fevered heart.->Aubrey nature 2]] [[Boring. Back to the city.->Aubrey city 1]]

The moonlit forest calls to you, and you willingly answer. The trees are hung with moss like lace around the throat of a courtesan. You slip between their outstretched arms, trailing your phalanges over their skin. [[The wind in the leaves sounds like a lover's sigh.->Aubrey nature 3]]

You wander for what feels like hours but may be only minutes. You let yourself drift, diffuse, until you forget where you end and the forest begins. Everything is quiet and smells like complicated dirt. Like your brute heart. There’s a light ahead. Emerging from the trees, you see a little lake of ebony and pearl, fringed with reeds as soft as eyelashes. Overhead, a sickle moon shines silver. Heck yeah, that’s going in your next sonnet. At the edge of the lake floats [[a specter->Aubrey nature 4]].

It is a wisp, barely a breath, a lightness above the river mud. A less refined sensibility than yours might overlook it altogether, or take it for a tendril of fog or moonlight on the lake. Not you. You, with your exquisite sensitivity to beauty, know better. With the eyes of your soul, you see. This is the curve of a cheek, there the sweep of a shoulder. This once was life. They were human, you think. [[It occurs to you that they loved poetry and walking in the rain.->Aubrey nature 5]]

Oh great, one of your murmuring virgins. (after:2s)[(link-reveal:"//...What?//")[ You know, the virgins, back when you were alive. Who would murmur from books of your poetry as they strolled along the tide-wracked strand. (link-reveal:"//NO. THIS ISN'T THAT. SHUT UP.//")[ ...sure. Anyway, somehow, somehow: the spectre trails the memory of laughter. You perceive an echo of lilac and Ceylon tea. The air stirs as if by a graceful hand. [[The spectre floats in a memory of youth and summer, of witty conversation and fresh-baked pastries.->Aubrey nature 6]]]]]

<small>...Are they murmuring though?</small> (after:2s)[They don’t make //any// sounds anymore. (after:3s)[(link-reveal:"...and shut up. ")[ You feel you as if you have known them your whole life, and also as if they are a newborn star, flickering against your ossified optical attachments. They could be everything or nothing, and you wish desperately to know which. ''“Lost spirit, who were you?”'' [[With everything you are, you listen.->Aubrey nature 7]]]]]

They flicker. They stain the air like a breath. In the silence you hear poetry and sunlight. The kiss of fur, the whisper of silk. A child in ribbons and bows, a young deer paused in a clearing, the shadows of leaves dancing across her flank. Long days lost in long books, long nights looking at the stars, the echoing reverence of not quite touching. A shiver of bells. They are almost gone, you think. [[They rub away against the corners of the world with no anchor to secure them, no shelter from the storm.->Aubrey nature 7a]]

For the first time in your life or afterlife, the question occurs to you. Is there even enough of them left to appreciate how amazing you are? [[The only thing to do is ask.->Aubrey nature 9]]

You reach out your skellingtern hand, your long, gorgeous phalanges gleaming in the moonlight. A breathless pause, a memory of consideration, and then, cool as starlight, a thread of paleness settles into what would have been your palm. Like the brush of a lover’s lips, it sinks into you. It flows up your arm and into your shoulder, tracing a path of incandescence like foxfire. [[Yes! You feel, after centuries of solitude, the touch of a friendly soul.->Aubrey nature acceptance 1]] [[No! It is too much! You are a mote in a tempest!->Aubrey nature overwhelm 1]] (set: $aubrey_ghost to true)

In moments, the transformation is complete. You are One. You shine in the dark like animal eyes. You are stone and spirit. You are mass and memory. [[You are not alone.->Aubrey nature acceptance 2]]

(set: $aubrey_gone to true)It is too fast, too complete! You feel your identity torn from you in the onslaught of this alien mind! You shriek, flailing your bony limbs to dislodge the invader, but it is too late! As the ghostly fire seizes your ribcage and skull, you feel yourself receding before the tide of (t8n-depart:"instant")+(t8n-arrive:"dissolve")+(t8n-time:4s)[[someone else.->Aubrey nature overwhelm 2]]

[[The wind carries news from far away.->Aubrey nature accept 2b]]

Well, how //could// You ever leave this place? [[Easily.->Aubrey nature accept civilization]] [[You could not.->Aubrey nature accept nature]]

(set: $aubrey_gone to false)How could You ever leave this place? Easily. This place is dead boring. Sure sure, everything that has ever happened in this forest is written on You with words of light, but, like, snore. How many possum births do You have to witness? Why cling to your muddy old bones, when You’ve got these new shiny bones and the remains of a very dapper suit? See ya later, nature! You are out of there so fast it makes Your head spin, and it spins [[all the way downtown.->Aubrey city denoue]]

(set: $aubrey_gone to true)You could not. You could not! You are this place and it is You, as much as You are bones or spirit. (link:"What would You be without the moonlight on the water?")[=What would You be without the moonlight on the water? And it’s not because of Your old bones down in the lake. You haven’t even thought about them in decades, ok? It’s just that you picked this lake for a reason, way back when, and [[You still love it.->Aubrey nature accept nature 2]]

(set: $aubrey_alone to true)As dawn stains the sky with honeyed fingers, You return to the graveyard, the remains of a cappuccino in hand. You see the rest of the (link-reveal:"crew")[ ((if: $frank_gone is true)[You don't see Frank.](else:)[Frank looks tired.] (if: $hildegarde_gone is true)[Where is Hildegarde?](else:)[Hildegarde looks majestic.] (if: $dogs_gone is true)[The two dogs have run off somewhere.](else:)[The two dogs, Spot and Rupert, gambol around eachother in the gloaming.] Kyle oozes menacingly)], returned likewise from doing whatever they do. You settle down into Your crypt, contemplating the natural beauty You have encountered, and the wonder that You have become. For the first time in your long boney existence, [[You don't think You'll sleep through to next Halloween.->Game end]] [[You are two, now.->Game end]] (set: $aubrey_good to false) (set: $aubrey_bad to false)

(t8n:"dissolve")+(t8n-time:2s)+(link-reveal:"The sun will be up soon. ")[(t8n:"dissolve")+(t8n-time:3s)+(link-reveal:"You sink comfortably into the curve of the shore to watch it. ")[[[You were a forest lake.->Game end]]]] (set: $aubrey_good to false) (set: $aubrey_bad to false)

(t8n-time:4s)[[Wake up.->Aubrey nature overwhelm 3]]

Slowly, you become aware of the world around you. It’s the lake, you think; the lake at night. You know this lake like your own name. It occurs to you that you don’t know your name. [[Ambrose? Renée?->Aubrey nature overwhelm 4]]

Whatever. You know this lake like the back of your hand, but there is something unfamiliar about it. The light, maybe; a greenish light coming from somewhere behind you, washing out the shadows of the reeds. No, it’s more than that. The lake is familiar and strange, like a whirling cyclone of images half-seen and half-imagined, flaying your soul— huh. That was kind of extra. The back of your hand is exposed bone. So is the rest of you. You seem to be a skelotrom. The rags of an old-fashioned evening suit cling to you, and tatters of leather grudgingly clasp your feet. [[That will never do, you think.->Aubrey nature overwhelm 5]] Out in the open? No. What if someone were to see you?

You push apart the reeds and step into the lake. The mud oozes between your metatarsals. The smell of it clings to the small complicated surfaces of your sinuses. You remember this, you think; the hot reek in the summer, the crisp grassiness of October. All those little lives seeping together in the mud, making one fecund whole. Fecund, yeah. That’s the word exactly. You reach down and scoop the mud over your tarsus, into the spaces between your tibia and fibula, over your patellae and your femurs. As the mud touches you, each tiny life and death that made it seeps into you. Foxfire sparks and swirls, colors chasing each other across your surface. You mound handfuls of mud in the hollow of your pelvis and pack it into your ribcage. The small shape of a mummified vole curls where your heart used to be. There, you think. [[All presentable.->Aubrey nature overwhelm 6]]

The lake where you used to run and whelp, the lake where you rose to the surface and snapped yourself out of the sky. A good place, this lake. Full of food and shelter. Full of rotting leaves and wriggling worms. A good lake. A memory teases you. There was something you were going to do, you think. A soft, dark bed? But the lake mud is soft and dark. A crew? But how could you need companions when all your selves call greetings and stories to each other across the expanse of you. [[A dream of beauty and belonging?->Aubrey nature overwhelm end]]

<span style="font-size:3.5rem">''Skeletorn Crew On The Loose!''</span> was written by <a href="https://twitter.com/confoundment">Kai Stewart</a>. Thanks for playing my silly game! I hope you liked it. If you did, you might also like <a href="https://bedtimestoriesfornobody.podbean.com">Bedtime Stories for Nobody</a>. [[You also could be another skellomptom.->Intro]]

[[A carp in the lake ripples across Your protoplasm.->Aubrey nature accept 2c]]

[[A leaf touching ground tremors Your bones like an earthquake.->Aubrey nature accept 2d]]

You gaze down the decades like a hall of doors, and they all open to You. The lake as it rises in spring and subsides all summer; the births; the drawing of strength from the leaf mold, and the deaths that release strength back into it. The constant sun and the smiling moon. Each note of this place rings and echoes, and You are a soundbox. You are the shivering air. Your old bones lie in the silt of the lake. [[How could You ever leave this place?->Aubrey nature acceptance 3]]

This forest, this lakeside, this patch of mud and half-rotted cattail is all You’ve ever needed. What did the city ever give you except mid-range hearing loss, caffeine jitters, and that guy who used to spend all night crouched under the streetlamp outside your rooms? Not much. [[This, this lake, this is real.->Aubrey nature end]]

(after:1s)[. (after:2s)[. (after:3s)[(link-reveal:". ")[(t8n:"dissolve")+(t8n-time:3s)+(link-reveal:"Whatever it was, it can't have been very important. ")[(t8n:"dissolve")+(t8n-time:5s)+(link-reveal:"The sun will be up soon. ")[(t8n:"dissolve")+(t8n-time:9s)+(link-reveal:"You sink comfortably into the curve of the shore to watch it. ")[[[You were a forest lake.->Game end]]]]]]]]] (set: $aubrey_good to false) (set: $aubrey_bad to false)

These new streetlamps are a wonder; they paint the whole street orange. You twirl your brass-headed cane jauntily and cut a brief caper on the (t8n:"slide-right")+(t8n-time:1s)+(link-reveal:"concrete. ")[=//The ''streets''!// The streets are crowded with revelers. You see strange creatures, spirits, Ægyptian royalty in varying stages of embalm, hags and publicans, many of them dressed more suggestively than you would have expected. You tip the remnants of your fine silk topper to everyone you see. Your senses are intoxicated, your feelings are bewitched. You seem to see a spark of interest and approval in the eye of every citizen. The city! The gleaming //[[city->Aubrey city 4]]//, couched like a pearl on the tongue of the state!

Desire uncurls in your ribcage, a luxurious ache like the stretching of a cat; similarly plush, and similarly edged with needles. It’s not enough to walk these glittering streets. You want music! You want the animal hunger of bodies gyrating in uneasy synchrony! You want the hot, wet crush of a [[//''discotheque''//->Aubrey city 5]]!

There, on the corner of two bustling thoroughfares, under the crimson and golden lights of a marquee that reads “(text-colour:"red")[(text-style:"bold","italic","blink")[The Gay 90s]],” a doorway the telltale blend of dark and bright. An //auspice//! An //omen//! The name recalls to you the time of your fleshly, exuberant youth. From inside, the brute rhythms of young people’s music thunders. The doorman asks you something. You tip your topper to him and slip inside. He stands, says something else, and reaches for you, but the press of bodies quickly closes behind you and you are swept up in [[the crowd->Aubrey city 6]].

It is everything you imagined. The hot breath of life caresses your cheek. The new music is raw, unadulterated, bass viols stabbing out syncopation while the singer croons a message of inclusion. //Yes//, you nod serenely. //Great boys, small boys, boys from the gleaming city and boys from the serene pastoral; all ''should'' be valued.//(after:5s)[ ''Just then'', a ham-sized hand roughly accosts your shoulder. The offending extremity spins you around; it is [[the doorman->Aubrey city 7]]. Why has he followed you? He is demanding something, but you can’t hear over the bass viols. He repeats his demand, louder, saliva flying from his mouth to spatter your zygomatic arch. Some of the revelers nearest to you are starting to take notice; some look amused, some annoyed, but none offer to assist you.]

The //churl//! You need not dignify his misbehavior. You turn away and shrug off his grip, but the ham hand is fisted tight in your coat. As you step away you hear, over the viols, the sharp sound of (after:6s)[fine] (after:7s)[(text-style:"italic")[wool]] (after:8s)[(text-style:"italic","shudder")[tearing]] (after:10s)[(text-style:"bold","shudder")[[[Can it be?->Aubrey city 7b]]]]

Well, //obviously//, you //are// a skellatong. Ought that to excite public outcry? But judging by the looks of horror dawning on the faces of the sultry unicorns and provocative bottles of catsup around you, it //will// excite public outcry. Former U.S. presidents in hot pants, sirens with extremely scanty shells, and small megalosauruses alike recoil from you. The crowd draws in a collective breath. The atmosphere balances on [[a knife’s edge->Aubrey city 9]].

(after:3s)[Into that sudden silence, a bass viol drops a (text-style:"italic")[truly (text-style:"bold","italic")[nasty (text-style:"blink")[groove].]]] (after:7s)[[[You do the only thing you can do.->Aubrey city 10]]]

[[You dance!->Aubrey city 11]]

###(text-style:"bold","italic","rumble")[[[DAAAAAAANCE!->Dance 1]]]

It //can//! It //must//! It is //unavoidable//! The churl has torn your (admittedly already somewhat tattered) fine wool tailcoat! He has rent your good underlinen! He has exposed your ribcage to the searing eyes of the terpsichorean public! This all has occurred on the very moment of a song ending, so the churl’s voice rings into a momentary silence when he (link-reveal:"says:")[= [[''“Oh snap! He’s a skellatong!”''->Aubrey city 8]]

(set: $dance1 to "<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-0.png'>")$dance1 (link: "Right hand out!")[(set: $dance2 to $macarena1)(goto: "Dance 2")] (link: "Down!")[(set: $dance2 to $macabre1)(goto: "Dance 2")] (set: $macarena1 to "<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-macarena-1.png'>") (set: $macarena2 to "<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-macarena-2.png'>") (set: $macarena3 to "<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-macarena-3.png'>") (set: $macarena4 to "<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-macarena-4.png'>") (set: $macarena5 to "<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-macarena-5.png'>") (set: $macarena6 to "<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-macarena-6.png'>") (set: $macarena7 to "<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-macarena-7.png'>") (set: $macarena8 to "<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-macarena-8.png'>") (set: $macarena9 to "<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-macarena-9.png'>") (set: $macarena10 to "<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-macarena-10.png'>") (set: $macarena11 to "<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-macarena-11.png'>") (set: $macarena12 to "<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-macarena-12.png'>") (set: $macabre1 to "<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-macabre-1.png'>") (set: $macabre2 to "<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-macabre-2.png'>") (set: $macabre3 to "<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-macabre-1.png'>") (set: $macabre4 to "<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-macabre-2.png'>") (set: $macabre5 to "<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-macabre-3.png'>") (set: $macabre6 to "<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-macabre-8.png'>") (set: $macabre7 to "<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-macabre-1.png'>") (set: $macabre8 to "<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-macabre-2.png'>") (set: $macabre9 to "<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-macabre-1.png'>") (set: $macabre10 to "<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-macabre-2.png'>") (set: $macabre11 to "<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-macabre-12.png'>") (set: $macabre12 to "<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-macabre-11.png'>")

<div style="text-align: center">(if: $macarena_win is not 0)[<img src="https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-macarena-13.png">](else:)[<img src="https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/skel-macabre-13.png">]</div> You stand before them, triumphant, yet modest. You wait for the mob to render their verdict. (after:4s)[=The doorman looks at you, his eyes narrowed. Then, slowly, he gives you a solemn nod, and returns to his place by the door. (after: 7s)[=''Everyone cheers!'' The glitterati crowd around you, whirling you in their arms, a few suppressing yelps of pain when they take an olecranon in some sensitive bit of their fleshy anatomy. Two young people, one a puckish young thing in green glitter and the other the the siren with the inadequate shells, seem especially appreciative. Hours pass in blissful foxtrottery. You let the sweat and glitter soak into your bones until finally the viols die away, the sickly yellow house lights are brought up, and the doorman ushers you all out into [[the brightening morning->Audrey good end 2]]. (set: $aubrey_good to true) (set: $aubrey_ghost to false) (set: $aubrey_bad to false) (set: $aubrey_gone to false)

As the viols fall silent once more, you take a graceful pose and wait for the consensus of the crowd. (after: 4s)[.](after: 4.5s)[.](after: 5s)[.] (after: 5.5s)[//It is pandemonium.// Former presidents and animated catsup bottles alike shriek and run for the exit. When the dust and screaming have settled, you are alone, standing amidst the wreckage of masonite and the broken bodies, in what was until recently a popular nightclub. It is mortifying. It is too much to be //born//! Your only desire was to be welcome in the common throng, to join in the eternal joy of dance. But your visage is //too hideous!// You must hide yourself away, far from the lights of civilization. You will [[find yourself a hovel and daub yourself with mud->Aubrey bad end 3]], so that no one will ever again suffer the gleam of light on your maxillae. Shame! Horror! //Extreme embarrassment!//] (set: $aubrey_good to false) (set: $aubrey_ghost to false) (set: $aubrey_bad to true) (set: $aubrey_gone to false)

(set: $aubrey_gone to false)As dawn stains the sky with honeyed fingers, you return to the graveyard. The puck and the siren accompany you, one tucked into the curve of each brachium. Both gleam with the dew of youth and innocence. You see the rest of the (link-reveal:"crew,")[ //((if: $frank_gone is true)[You don't see Frank.](else:)[Frank looks tired.] (if: $hildegarde_gone is true)[Hildegarde looks majestic.](else:)[Hildegarde is off somewhere, possibly with her dragon floozy.] (if: $dogs_gone is false)[The two dogs, Spot and Rupert, gambol around eachother in the gloaming.] Kyle oozes menacingly.)//] returned likewise from doing what things they do. You settle down into the sumptuous violet satin of your crypt. As your coffin descends and the gravemould rolls over you, the young people start to protest. [[You were the talk of the town.->Game end]]

<div>(set: $aubrey_gone to false)You stumble back to the graveyard, your usually elegant steps clumsy with despair. The (link-reveal: "crew,")[ //((if: $hildegarde_gone is not true)[majestic, doomed Hildegarde.] (if: $frank_gone is not true)[Weary, honest Frank.] (if: $dogs_gone is not true)[Spot and Rupert, man's best friends and unwitting victims.] Kyle.)//] dragging themselves through another wearisome parody of life, act out their various japes and chicanery. Only your casket, dear faithful casket, can comfort you now. You plummet into its satiny embrace, cross your antebrachia over your sternum, and gaze with sightless eye sockets at the compassionate velvety breast of the night. It is //over// for you, //quite over//, your contemptible seeking after selfish vanity has lead people to //flee your presence//; it is over, you collapse in hopelessness and (t8n:"dissolve")+(t8n-time:5s)+(link-reveal:"gravedirt— ")[=[[—but you can try again next year.->Game end]]</div>

Spot and Rupert! Rupert and Spot. Good boy, Rupert! Good bone, Spot! Rupert with your leather collar and jingling name tag! Good boy, Rupert. Spot, first out of the mud, circling back to tap Rupert’s nose! Ready to play! [[Rupert and Spot!->Dogs 2]]

Spot and Rupert in the graveyard. Oak leaves and hungry ivy, sleeping petrichor and crumbling granite. Smells of grease and burning gasoline and humanpeople and dogpeople coming over the walls. Smells of grass and new dead flowers and old dead flowers and dried dead flowers and dead flowers becoming dirt. Worms and maple twigs and old mulch with cow shit. Pine lacquer and brass. This morning, two squirrels. Five humanpeople this morning and afternoon. Cow and rubber and plastic in shoes. All the skelepeople. (t8n-time:1s)+(link-reveal:"Kyle")[ (old blood. Wet bones with marrow still in them. Polyester and jute rope. Sour vomit)] and (t8n-time:1s)+(link-reveal:"Hildegarde")[ (sheep, steel, horn, old bones like shale, hint of beer)] and (t8n-time:1s)+(link-reveal:"Frank")[ (cedar and leather and pine and cotton and sap and warm steel and shellac)] and (t8n-time:1s)+(link-reveal:"Aubrey")[ (dry lavender, dry silk, wormwood, magnolia, paper)]. Deeper and denser dirt from where all the smelletons dug up. Clover and chicory. [[Dry oak leaves and ripe lake water.->Dogs 3]]

And oh? A special smell. Rupert smells it! [[''An Amazing Smell!''->Dogs 4]] Rupert squeezes through the gate. Spot bounces through without having to squeeze. The alley, brick and dogpeople and cats and garbage and human shit. A dumpster, eggs and coffee grounds and paper and rotting yogurt. [[And the smell.->Dogs 4]]

The SMELL THOUGH. This way? Yes. There, behind the dumpster! ''(text-style:"bold","shudder")[Part of a hamburger]'' An entire part of a hamburger. It is amazing. Rupert snaps his jaws in anticipation, and Spot does a bouncing thing that is probably a tail wag. Spot is probably a tail bone. That’s probably fine. Spot wags, probably, and bounces after Rupert as he clatters dumpsterward. The tantalizing smell! That whole hamburger part, only for Rupert (and a little for Spot, if Spot wants some. What would Spot do with it? That’s Spot’s business.) Mostly for Rupert. There, beneath his very jaw, his broad paws almost touching it, the (t8n-time:1s)+(link-reveal:"part of a hambur— ")[=[[Gone!->Dogs 5]]

Something has taken the part of a hamburger. A cat? Not quite a cat. Something a little like a cat. It has the part of a hamburger in its hands, and it’s scampering around the corner of a brick building. It’s getting away! ''[[Not today, cat!->Dogs 6]]''

Spot bounces after it! Rupert runs after Spot! Spot is faster than Rupert, because Spot doesn’t have stubby little Basset legs. Rupert gets to the corner, sees Spot halfway down the street, turning into an alley. Rupert has to squeeze under a fence, and knock over a stack of something. Rupert also has to stop twice to smell messages other dogpeople have left. There is a lot of news to read in a city like this. When Rupert gets to the alley, the cat-thing is gone. The alley is full of interesting piles, but no cats or cat-like things. ''There’s Spot!'' [[Spot, bouncing at the end of the alley.->Dogs 7]]

Spot has found a burrow, here, behind wet cardboard and one half of a rat. it doesn’t smell like brick or asphalt. It doesn’t smell like stoat or gopher. It smells like cat, and rabbit, and human, and cooked eggs and dirt and dry blood. It smells like garbage in August, and vomit and hot iron and burnt hair. It smells deep. Heat comes out, and the sound of many voices. The dirt is wet and hot and has so many smells. The smells are all stuck together and Rupert can’t tell them apart. Rupert likes the smell and does not like the smell. Rupert wants to roll in the smell, very much, and also wants to snort it out of his nose and whine and run away. Spot has no opinion about the smells. Spot is happy doing what makes Rupert happy. ''[[Dig down!->Dogs 8]]''

Rupert digs! Spot bounces. Dirt flies under Rupert’s wide paws. The burrow gets wider, wide enough for Rupert’s head, and then his chest, and then his butt. Rupert shuffles his butt into the burrow and then he doesn’t have to dig anymore. The burrow is wide now. Rupert can stand up and run! [[Spot bounces after him.->Dogs 9]]

There is light in the burrow. The smells are bigger. The burrow gets wider and wider, and then it’s not a burrow anymore. It’s a cracked dirt road, with high dirt walls. The sky is yellow. There is no sun. The road smells like burnt mud and shit. The grass by the side of the road is dead and soaking in old blood. There are worms in the blood. They eat the dead grass and shit out mud. The mud smells of vomit and rotten liver and worm guts. Rupert would like to roll in it. [[Rollllll->Dogs roll 1]] [[No rolling! Hamburger!->Dogs 10]]

The mud smells like three-day fish in the sun. The mud smells like fresh diarrhea. The smells drive Rupert wild! Rupert rubs his jaws in the mud, over and over. The mud gets into Rupert’s teeth. Rupert rolls over and squirms in it, back and forth. Worms are crushed in Rupert’s spine and ribs. Mud gets into Rupert’s spaces. Rupert feels hot and itchy and happy and angry and fierce. Rupert would like to run and run and run and crunch things in his teeth. Spot wants to be with Rupert. Rupert is Spot’s favorite. Rupert is in the mud, so Spot rolls into the mud and gets it all over. The mud is wet and warm and squishy. The blood in it is thick. Spot turns all red-black, with chunks stuck to them. Spot itches and hurts, hurts to itch and hurts to scratch. Spot feels like fire. Spot wants to scratch and wants to wash in cold water. Spot bounces and bounces and bounces, higher and faster. Spot flattens the grass. [[A big person is there->Dogs roll 2]] (set: $dogs_gone to true)

Rupert focuses on the part of a hamburger. That’s what’s important now. Ahead, there are many footsteps and many yells. They aren’t cat yells, or humanpeople yells, or rabbit yells, or goat yells. They sound a little like all those things. There’s also fire crackling, and mud squelching, and a deep deep sound that shakes the ground. The road curves and twists. Rupert and Spot can’t see very far ahead. [[They keep running, and bouncing.->Dogs 11]]

A big person is there. The big person is too big to see. The big person’s smells are deafening. [[The big person speaks softly->Dogs 17]], like thunder and bad fireworks.

The big person tells Rupert and Spot to go get it. Rupert doesn’t know what to get, but Rupert knows he’ll find it. Rupert runs and runs and runs, back through the burrow, up to the alley. Spot bounces also. Spot makes holes in the asphalt where he lands. The alley smells like sick and shaking despair. The wind is hot and dry. Many things are rotting. Rupert smells it, the thing he has to get. His teeth are strong. [[Spot jumps with a sound like thunder. Rupert runs and runs and runs.->Dogs roll 4]]

The burrow road makes a sharp turn and drops. Rupert and Spot are in a big place. Dry bone grass is all around. Rupert hears the sounds snakes make. Birds in the sky clatter. The air smells sick. The dry bone grass rustles and shakes. Rupert smells many things that are a little like cats. They run past Rupert and Spot and they run from far away, in all directions, running toward [[something on a hill.->Dogs 12]] They all carry things in their mouths or their hands. They carry flowers, or bread, or meat, or sandwiches, or coffee, or new leaves, or fish, or chickens, or paper with words on it. The things smell fresh and tasty. Everything in this place smells sick, but those things smell fresh.

The hill is tall. Many cat-things run or fly up it. They carry things. They yell. The cat-thing with the part of a hamburger is here, running. [[Rupert->Dogs hill Rupert]] and [[Spot->Dogs hill Spot]] might be able to catch it.

The thing with the hamburger is far ahead. Rupert can smell them but they are too far to see. The cat-thing is running much faster than Rupert can run. Rupert runs and runs but the cat-thing gets further away. [[:(->Dogs 12]]

Spot bounces very high and fast. Spot bounces big bounces, high above the dry grass. Spot is gaining on the cat-thing! Spot catches the cat-thing! Almost at the top of the hill, Spot lands in front of the cat-thing. The cat-thing has to stop fast and turn. Spot bounces high and lands their pointiest part on the thing. The not-cat screeches and backs up. Spot bounces again and again, and the cat-maybe turns and backs but can’t get away. [[Rupert->Dogs 13]] catches up.

Rupert bites the cat-thing with strong teeth. Rupert jumps on the cat-thing with strong paws. The cat-thing drops the part of a hamburger. Spot lands on the part of a hamburger. Rupert spits the cat-thing out of his mouth. The cat-thing runs away. [[(text-style:"bold")[You got the part of a hamburger!]->Dogs 14]]

[[Spot, Rupert, and the part of the hamburger->Dogs dogpeople]] are almost at the top of the hill. At the top of the hill is a [[big person.->Dogs big person]]

There are dogpeople here. The dogpeople smell like good grass and dirt and dog. The dogs chase the cat-things. When a dog catches a cat-thing, the dog takes the flowers or bread or meat or sandwiches or coffee or new leaves and runs away from [[the hill->Dogs 15]]. The dogs take the good things from where the [[big person->Dogs big person]] is sitting. The cat-things try to follow, but the dogpeople are too fierce. The dogpeople take the good things away.

The big person sits on a shattered place that smells like burnt wood and worms. The big person breathes bad fireworks and worm meat and rotten eggs. The cat-things run up [[the hill->Dogs 15]] and put what they carry at the big person’s feet, like sticks for throwing. The big person pats the cat-things. The cat-things run behind the big person and sit. The cat-things sit behind the big person and talk. They smile and groom and dance. They have sweet-smelling sticks like big grass. They hit the [[dogpeople->Dogs dogpeople]] with the sticks. The big person watches what the cat-things bring, and the big person smiles.

There are dogpeople and cat-things and good things and the big person. Cat-things bring good things to the big person, and the big person pats them. Dogpeople catch the cat-things and take the good things away. Rupert and Spot have the part of a hamburger. They are near [[the big person->Dogs 16]]. The big person might pat them.

Rupert takes the part of a hamburger up the hill. Rupert lies down by the big person. Spot lands on the part of a hamburger. Spot does not eat, but Spot likes to feel things. After Spot has felt the part of a hamburger, Spot lands by [[Rupert->Hellhounds 2]] to rest. (set: $dogs_gone to true)

Rupert runs down the hill! Spot bounces down the hill! Rupert holds the part of a hamburger in his mouth. The other dogpeople run alongside. The cat-things hold long sweet sticks in their hands. The cat-things beat Rupert and the other dogpeople with the sweet sticks. The dogpeople yelp and bleed and shake, but they keep running. Rupert is brave, and keeps running. The cat-things try to beat Spot, but they mostly miss. Rupert and Spot run and run and bounce and bounce until they are out of the burrow, [[out of the alley->Godhounds 2]]. (set: $dogs_gone to false)

Rupert eats. The part of a hamburger is salty and full of meat. The bread is good and the hamburger is good. The lettuce is good and the tomato is good. Rupert eats the part of a hamburger and [[rests->Hellhounds 3]].

The big person reaches down. (after:3s)[The big person is big. They reach down and down.] (after:5s)[[[The big person pats Rupert and Spot.->Hellhounds 4]] The petting feels like scratching an infected flea bite. Rupert's bones grind with bliss. Spot rattles and leaps.]

“''(text-style:"rumble")[WHO IS THIS?]''” the big person says. (after:3s)[“''(text-style:"rumble")[RUPERT AND SPOT?]''”] (after:6s)[“''(text-style:"rumble")[[[RUPERT AND SPOT->Dogs 18]]. WE KNOW YOU.]''"]

''“RUPERT USED TO LIVE WITH A FAMILY. RUPERT USED TO RUN AND HUNT WITH A CHILD. RUPERT LOVED THE CHILD, AND THE CHILD LOVED RUPERT, BUT THE CHILD GREW UP. THE CHILD LEFT. [[RUPERT WAS TOO OLD TO HUNT ANY MORE.->Dogs 19]]"''

''“SPOT USED TO BE PART OF A MAN. SPOT WAS A CLEVER BONE WHO MADE CLEVER OBJECTS. BUT THE MAN WAS NOT CLEVER ENOUGH, AND ONE DAY SPOT WAS ALONE. THERE WAS SO MUCH BLOOD. [[THE MAN THREW SPOT AWAY.->Dogs 20]]"''

The big person’s smells are deafening. [[The big person speaks softly->Dogs 17]], like thunder and fireworks.

''“YOU CAN HUNT FOR ME NOW, RUPERT. BE STRONG FOR ME. YOU CAN BE WITH ME, NOW, SPOT. BE MY CLEVER BONE."'' [[Eat the part of a hamburger->Hellhounds 1]] [[Take the part of a hamburger away->Godhounds 1]]

''“GOOD BOY, RUPERT. GOOD JOB, SPOT. (after:3s)[“NOW (after:5s)[(text-style:"rumble")[[[FETCH->Hellhounds 5]]."]]]''

(set: $dogs_gone to true)There are so many good things in the world. Rupert and Spot are strong and fast and clever. Rupert and Spot can fetch all the good things in the world! Rupert's jaws ache to bite and catch and tear and chew, to rip and grip every good thing in the wide world and bring them here. Drag them in blood and grease and screaming back here to the big person. The big person and the things that are not cats will be happy. Spot and Rupert will be happy. Spot and Rupert run and run and bounce and bounce, up the road and the burrow, back to the world. The world is dust and empty boxes. The world is a bird with a broken wing. The world is a soft belly. Rupert and Spot will tear the world open, tear it and tear it, and drag all its bloody meat down here, to the smell of death and frenzy, [[to the big person on the hill.->Game end]]

The night is warm. The wind smells like tender grass and bacon. Humanpeople walk down the street, laughing. Humanpeople hold flowers, and sandwiches, and coffee. [[Their hands and their stomachs are full.->Godhounds 3]]

(set: $dogs_gone to false)Rupert and Spot run and bounce back to the graveyard. The graveyard smells are familiar and rich, full of plants and small life. [[Rupert and Spot are home.->Godhounds 4]] They see all (t8n-time:1s)+(link-reveal:"the smellingtime crew. ")[=(if: $frank_gone is false)[Frank is here. Frank rubs Rupert’s skull and touches Spot hello. The finger Frank uses to hello Spot is missing a distal phalanx. Spot lands for a moment on Frank’s metacarpals.] (if: $aubrey_gone is false)[Aubrey is here. (if:$aubrey_ghost is true)[Aubrey smells like lake water and rotting leaves and good rotting meat. Aubrey has rolled very much in something very good.](else:)[(if: $aubrey_bad is true)[Aubrey’s clothes smell like rotting fruit. Aubrey smells sad.](else:)[Aubrey’s clothes smell like rotting fruit and humanpeople sweat. Two humanpeople are with Aubrey. They smell like feathers and sweat and wax and rotting fruit and happiness. They tell Rupert that he’s a good boy and scratch his vertebrae. One of them offers Spot a fist to tap.]]] (if: $hildegarde_gone is false)[Hildegarde is here. She smells like sheep and iron. She stretches powerfully and cleans her sword. She tells Rupert that he’s a noble hound, and fit to course with the hunters of the all-father. She lets Spot feel the engravings on her shield.] Kyle is here. They smell like fresh blood and eyeballs. Kyle lets Rupert smell them all over, and offers Rupert some meat.

Rupert lies down on his gravedirt with the [[part of a hamburger->Godhounds 5]]. Spot lands on the [[part of a hamburger->Godhounds 5]]. Spot bounces gently on the different things in the [[part of a hamburger->Godhounds 5]], and then Spot lands by Rupert to rest. With his smellerson crew, next to his best friend Spot, Rupert eats the [[part of a hamburger->Godhounds 5]].

The part of a hamburger is still a little warm. Meat juices flood [[Rupert's->Godhounds 6]] mouth. Sweet tomato water drips down [[Rupert's->Godhounds 6]] jaws. The bread is soft and also crunchy. The lettuce drips with grease.

Rupert is happy and heavy with food and the day’s adventure. Rupert fought a cat and smelled many dogpeople. Rupert lies down and rests his skull on Spot. These two friends have had a big day. [[You were two of the goodest dogs.->Game end]]

$dance2 (link: "Left hand out!")[(set: $dance3 to $macarena2)(goto: "Dance 3")] (link: "Up!")[(set: $dance3 to $macabre2)(goto: "Dance 3")] (if: $dance2 is $macarena1)[(set: $macarena_count to it +1)](else:)[(set: $macabre_count to it +1)]

$dance2 $dance3 (link: "Right hand shoulder!")[(set: $dance4 to $macarena3)(goto: "Dance 4")] (link: "Down!")[(set: $dance4 to $macabre3)(goto: "Dance 4")] (if: $dance3 is $macarena2)[(set: $macarena_count to it +1)](else:)[(set: $macabre_count to it +1)]

$dance2 $dance3 $dance4 (link: "Left hand shoulder!")[(set: $dance5 to $macarena4)(goto: "Dance 5")] (link: "Up!")[(set: $dance5 to $macabre4)(goto: "Dance 5")] (if: $dance4 is $macarena3)[(set: $macarena_count to it +1)](else:)[(set: $macabre_count to it +1)]

$dance2 $dance3 $dance4 $dance5 $dance6 (link: "Left hand head!")[(set: $dance7 to $macarena6)(goto: "Dance 7")] (link: "Kick right!")[(set: $dance7 to $macabre6)(goto: "Dance 7")] (if: $dance6 is $macarena5)[(set: $macarena_count to it +1)](else:)[(set: $macabre_count to it +1)]

$dance2 $dance3 $dance4 $dance5 $dance6 $dance7 (link: "Right hand hip!")[(set: $dance8 to $macarena7)(goto: "Dance 8")] (link: "Down!")[(set: $dance8 to $macabre7)(goto: "Dance 8")] (if: $dance7 is $macarena6)[(set: $macarena_count to it +1)](else:)[(set: $macabre_count to it +1)]

$dance2 $dance3 $dance4 $dance5 $dance6 $dance7 $dance8 (link: "Left hand hip!")[(set: $dance9 to $macarena8)(goto: "Dance 9")] (link: "Up!")[(set: $dance9 to $macabre8)(goto: "Dance 9")] (if: $dance8 is $macarena7)[(set: $macarena_count to it +1)](else:)[(set: $macabre_count to it +1)]

$dance2 $dance3 $dance4 $dance5 $dance6 $dance7 $dance8 $dance9 (link: "Right hand butt!")[(set: $dance10 to $macarena9)(goto: "Dance 10")] (link: "Down!")[(set: $dance10 to $macabre9)(goto: "Dance 10")] (if: $dance9 is $macarena8)[(set: $macarena_count to it +1)](else:)[(set: $macabre_count to it +1)]

$dance2 $dance3 $dance4 $dance5 $dance6 $dance7 $dance8 $dance9 $dance10 $dance11 (link: "Circle the hips!")[(set: $dance12 to $macarena11)(goto: "Dance 12")] (link: "Pirouette left!")[(set: $dance12 to $macabre11)(goto: "Dance 12")] (if: $dance11 is $macarena10)[(set: $macarena_count to it +1)](else:)[(set: $macabre_count to it +1)]

$dance2 $dance3 $dance4 $dance5 $dance6 $dance7 $dance8 $dance9 $dance10 (link: "Left hand butt!")[(set: $dance11 to $macarena10)(goto: "Dance 11")] (link: "Up!")[(set: $dance11 to $macabre10)(goto: "Dance 11")] (if: $dance10 is $macarena9)[(set: $macarena_count to it +1)](else:)[(set: $macabre_count to it +1)]

$dance2 $dance3 $dance4 $dance5 $dance6 $dance7 $dance8 $dance9 $dance10 $dance11 $dance12 (link: "Finish that circle!")[(set: $dance13 to $macarena12)(goto: "Dance 13")] (link: "Pirouette right!")[(set: $dance13 to $macabre12)(goto: "Dance 13")] (if: $dance12 is $macarena11)[(set: $macarena_count to it +1)](else:)[(set: $macabre_count to it +1)]

$dance2 $dance3 $dance4 $dance5 (link: "Right hand head!")[(set: $dance6 to $macarena5)(goto: "Dance 6")] (link: "Kick left!")[(set: $dance6 to $macabre5)(goto: "Dance 6")] (if: $dance5 is $macarena4)[(set: $macarena_count to it +1)](else:)[(set: $macabre_count to it +1)]

$dance2 $dance3 $dance4 $dance5 $dance6 $dance7 $dance8 $dance9 $dance10 $dance11 $dance12 $dance13 (if: $macarena_count is > 10)[(set: $macarena_win to true) [[HEEEEEY!->Aubrey macarena]]](elseif: $macabre_count is > 10)[(set: $macabre_win to true)[[Thank yew, thank yew->Aubrey macabre]]](else:)[ [[Pose!->Aubrey good end 1]]]

Rupert and Spot find it. They bring it to the big person. They find it again. They bring it. [[The ground cracks. The sun goes dark.->Game end]]

Hwaet! You are Hildegarde. Fleshless fighter, Wary eagle, eyeless watcher, Holger’s Arm, though he long absent; He outlived you, but you out-un-lived him. Out in the graveyard, (link-reveal:"gaunt geistmenschen")[ //(Frank, fine-fingered, fell fir-forger, Aubrey, ably amorous, ardent auspicer, Spot and Rupert, stalwart rangers, There is also Kyle; ugh.)// ] Stretch and shake the soil from their bones While the grim-glowering stars of twilight Glower grimly on your [[shadowy tombs.->Hildegarde 2]]

No dusty tomb can keep you down, But it sure can make you creaky. You stretch your shoulders, bones like boulders And oil (link-reveal:"the broadsword that you honor.")[ //(The blade is Icebite, bane of foes; If asked, you let the asker know that the “ice” is the cold of the death you sow not, like, literal ice damage, bro.)//] Hildegarde, stand straight and stalwart Bend your gaze towards [[the east->Hildegarde 3]]; Holger’s Arm, unsheathe your eyeballs To spy the ancient foe you seek.

Then, the skies sear bright! Thunder fills the night! The heavens split in a silver stream: Steely shield-maidens from your sweetest dreams. The horses fleet, their well-forged armor Etched with runes of power and grace Their necks arched high and nostrils flaring To catch the scent of foe and feast. [[The soldiers->Hildegarde 4]], spear-eyed, shield-armed, standing Straight as willows by a stream Roots strong-holding, arms rapid-flying Hearts suitable for building houses, bows, or bowers.

“Hildegarde! At last we have you! Long-lost lady of our legendary league After we’ve galloped through gale and galaxy Gadzooks, girl, what grave you been buried in? “Hie to your horse, now! Where is Flipper The friend you brought home from the whale-roads that time? Where is your powerful semi-dry charger Who galloped so often to glory and gold? “Saddle and bridle and moisten that mammal, Ready your somewhat-terrestrial steed Follow us up to Wotan’s white hallways Where [[the party->Hildegarde 5]] can’t start until you make the scene."

“For who knows the best songs for drunkenly singing? Who knows the best games to play in the dark? Who is the lifeblood of every clan kegger? It’s you, babe! You’re needed! Buckle up and let’s start! “The wars are behind us; we've won every battle. The foe that we faced has long fallen or flown. What do you say? Will you come join our rager?” [[Hel yes my stein-sisters! Saddle up and let’s go!->Valkyrie 1]] [[My war is still raging. I have to say no.->Hildegarde 6]]

Sharp hooves struck sparks from the silver road As the war-women rode home in glorious state Past towers and stratosphere, past troposphere and stratus To the top of the world, to Wotan’s white hall. “HILDEGARDE!!!” comes the cry from the courtly assembled From soldiers and house-carls and shield-maids and hand-maids From the floor where the bottle is merrily spinning From the couch where the poets are blearily grinning. “It is I! I am here! Let us now get it started!” You howl as they burden your hands with beers Keg-standing, pong-sinking, song-demanding, out-drinking, [[Hildegarde! Un-life of the party!->Bardic 0]]

You say, "True, the fights that we fought in our youth are all done, We cut down the foeman and sang up the sun, Wherever we wagered we certainly won, but there’s something I've started and can’t leave undone.” You’ve never left a battle once begun. Let no one tell the All-Father you’d run. The sisters shuffle skeptically. They trade grave glances sidelong. “Ok, I guess, if it’s important to you,” they shrug. They flash up through the clouds and then are [[gone.->Hildegarde 8]]

Long do you pace out across the city’s pavement, Long do you seek your hated foe. Long do your footfalls strike the crazed and leering sidewalk 'Til, at length, your legs lead you to ''Pat’s Java Hole.'' ''Pat’s Java Hole!'' Dank dwelling of decaf, Joint without honor or praiseworthy deed, Terminal home for the jaded and pedantic, Germinating nothing but bitterness and jitters. Hildegarde, behold it: your heart girded for battle, One hand on your sword-hilt, one hand on the door, When up from behind you in fire and brilliance [[An eclat of trumpets, a strobing neon choir.->Hildegarde 9]]

Time stands still. Your heart turns pale You move through air like molasses In terror and glory, in tangerine light, The Party Bus of Heaven amasses. The roof lights dazzle as colors unknown Strobe to the beat of the bass; Then shining all together, the Name of the Most High Flashes out in awe and LED. The bus stops short. The bus turns off. The god-engine ticks as it cools. The [[doors sigh open->Hildegarde 10]] with a breath like grace The city waits wide-eyed and silent.

And He steps out. He waves His hand. His foot meets the street like a shout. (text-style:"smear")[“Hildegarde,”] He intones, (text-style:"smear")[“where you been, babe?] (text-style:"smear")[[[<span style="color: #eeb422">"Get in here and get turnt out!"</span>->Hildegarde 10a]]]

Onto [[the bus->Highway to Heaven 2]]! The rich-laid seats Recline all the way, for rest or frolic The bar, well-stocked with brews and booze, The soundsystem strongly pumping. The stripper pole bright with mithril light And sterling Freia posing there Her shining eyes, Her flaxen hair Her inversions and Her core-strength. Wotan, treasure-giver, tosses gold out the windows, Rings to the revelers who run alongside, Fricka’s flashing fingers pull the tension from your shoulders, As She whispers Her pleasure in you; Her pride. Froh, sun-smiling, pulls you nearer Donner’s laugh rings out like thunder Loge high-fives you and passes the smoke While Erda shows you Her latest odes.

“You brighten my day with this news, Dad-of-All. That bus is a mai tai in the desert. But before I can join you in revelry eternal There’s a mission that I can’t, uh, desert.” The Wayfinder glances behind him. (text-style:"smear")[“Hang on just a second,”] he calls. (text-style:"smear")[“Hildegarde, mija, I’ve got to bail, but you know where we’ll be when you’re done with your deal.”] The bus gears up and off it rolls The windows ring with heavenly howls You watch it go and your blood runs cold [[And you turn your face to Pat’s Java Hole.-> PJH 1]]

Long drives the bus through the streets of the city Past skyways and starways and fogbanks and strata Through gates of good horn and avenues of cut crystal To the top of the world, to Wotan’s white hall. “(text-style:"rumble")[HILDEGARDE!!!]” comes the cry from all those assembled From soldiers and house-carls and shield-maids and hand-maids From the floor where the bottle is merrily spinning From the couch where the poets are blearily grinning. “It is I! I am here! You can all start the party!” You shout as they fill up your hands with ale Keg-standing, pong-sinking, song-demanding, out-drinking, [[Hildegarde! Un-life of the party!->Bardic 0]]

“The struggle is over, the party’s begun, Our foes have fallen and their songs are unsung, The ravens are feasting and their feathers hide the sun, All that we wished for is finally won. “The wars are all ended, Your wounds can be tended, All wrongs can be mended and Your wine with Mine be blended.” His voice is air. You breathe in deep. The party bus is rocking and He wrangled you a seat. He holds out His hand and your heart falls at His feet— [[“Let me on that bus and drop that beat!"->Highway to Heaven 1]] [[“My flyest lord, I cannot. I’ve one foe left to meet.”->Hildegarde 11]]

(set: $hildegarde_gone to true)And they say: “Sing us a song, rowdy reveler! How does that one ditty go? With the bear and the bees and the honeycomb tree— A song to dispel all our woes!” (set: $good_song to 0) So you sing: “The bear found a honeycomb high up in a tree! The bear ate great pawfuls of honey and bees The bees sued the bear for termination without cause— [[—The hours of our life roll past without pause.->Bardic 1]]" (link: "—The bear was aquitted on an execution clause!")[(set: $good_song to it + 1)(set: $last_song to "good")(goto: "Bardic 1")]" (link: "—A bear can’t beat a beagle for a great big schnozz.")[(set: $silly_song to it + 1)(set: $last_song to "silly")(goto: "Bardic 1")]" [[—We’ll punch the bears and break their jaws!->Bardic 1]]"

(if: $good_song > 0)[The hall rings with laughter, the hall rings with cheer They roar into the roasts and they chuckle in the beer Then they wipe at their tears, and someone says “Hildegarde, sing us something to remember our dead.”](else:)[(if: $silly_song > 0)[Every eyebrow jumps up to hover over every head Someone trips over a drum kit with a mighty crash Someone else, hiding giggles in a roomy beard, Says, “Sing us something to honor the heroes of our past!”](else:)[A hush fills the hall and everybody looks around Every brow is furrowed, every face wears a frown “I don’t really get it, but ok,” someone says, “Hildegarde, sing us something to remember our dead.”]] So you sing: "The wind in the chimney is sighing tonight The wolves are all howling with woe The arms of the trees are empty and cold (link: "—For our darlings are sleeping below.")[(set: $good_song to it + 1)(set: $last_song to "good")(goto: "Bardic 2")]" (link: "—For I recently stubbed my big toe.")[(set: $silly_song to it + 1)(set: $last_song to "silly")(goto: "Bardic 2")]" [[—Blood and pain and regret to my foes!->Bardic 2]]"

(if: $last_song is "good")[Your song settles into the silence of the hall The tears fall like rain and sweet sorrow floods them all The jarls all collapse beneath your song’s fell might Then someone yells “Now we’re ''too'' sad!! Give us courage to fight!”](else:)[(if: $last_song is "silly")[Your song ripples through the mustered merry-makers. “Her big toe!” They mutter. “Hee hee hee, didja hear? Someone butters a soft roll, a soft-shod soldier cuts a caper “All right, you goofball! Sing to bring our foes fear!”](else:)[Your song falls flat on the halls of Valhalla People trade puzzled glances and audibly swallow And then someone yells over mutters and snores “Well, whatever. Hildegard, sing us something with gore!”]] So you sing: (link: "\"''Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh'',")["Blood and guts and bones and brains And marrow, fresh and steaming! We’ll punch and stab and slice and maim [[—Time steals all hope and meaning.->Party tally]]" (link: "—And send our enemies screaming!")[(set: $good_song to it + 1)(set: $last_song to "good")(goto: "Party tally")]" (link: "—I saw some cheese while dreaming!")[(set: $silly_song to it + 1)(set: $last_song to "silly")(goto: "Party tally")]"]

(if: $good_song is > 1)[[[The assembled sit before you in stunned silence. ->Party good]]](else:)[(if: $silly_song is > 1)[[[The assembled sit before you in stunned silence. ->Party silly]]](else:)[[[The assembled sit before you in stunned silence. ->Party bad]]]]

(text-style:"smear")[“Soup!”] cried Wotan. (text-style:"smear")[“A lake of broth Steep my heroes and taste their worth! Bed them down on baking dough! A separate lake of mead! Why not! "Whole worlds where everything is edible; Whole zoos where everything is pettable; All your electronics safely wettable; Henceforth, every moment: unforgettable.”] The bells toll joy through Valhalla tonight Joy tomorrow, next week, forever, The stars in Wotan’s hall outshine the sparkling night Now that Hildegarde, brightest of them all, (link-reveal:"brings her light.")[ [[''It wouldn't do to brag, but you're secretly pretty pleased.''->Game end]]]

Time went past and time went past and time went past forever, Ageless, changeless, in Valhalla, every ill that you invited Wrapped around those haggard heroes, rending their spirits, Needling their nerves, and each voice said, if a voice still spoke: “There goes Hildegarde, harrower of heaven, There goes Hildegarde, Holgar’s shattered arm: Our shame, our scourge, the weevil in the wheat; Who stole with art what strength could not defeat.” (after:17s)[(transition: "dissolve")[[[''You feel pretty bad about the whole thing.''->Game end]]]]

Pat’s Java Hole! Boneyard of beans (not the cool kind of boneyard where skelligmen dream) Putrid house of junk juice, janky pastry hovel You pause, hold your breath, and jump in. Inside, the snide abide, Failed poets snark at normal folk, Aging hipsters rehash the heights of their status Sagging artists prop themselves on caffeine. Light avoids this place, Color scurries from the doorway, Laughter has long left the hall, Dust indulges every surface. There, you find her, behind the counter, Hair like the torrent, eyes like flame Claws like scalpels, scales like crystal, Swift slasher, coiling grappler, java-wife, [[Melusine.->PJH 2]]

Her eyes scorch you. “Hildegarde. You dare to darken the Java Hole again? After all your crimes against me Can you cooly cross my cafe floor?” “Melusine, beastly barista,” you grimly reply, "What was between us is far from finished. I could not rest in my well-earned place Without I had first fought you here in yours.” “Are you serious?” says the mug-wife, “After all you stole from me; Savaged my sweetness and ravaged my rest After your whole-hearted, thorough-going dickery [[You dare to start something at Pat’s Java Hole?"->PJH 3]]

“You say this is my hall; well, that is true. I am the coffee-giver, and all here do my bidding. If you’ve got the unmitigated gall to try me here, I’ll take back what you owe me in pain and blood.” She spirals up from behind the La Marzocco Fangs flashing in the flourescents, wings flexing You struggle out your sword, but before it’s free She strikes at you! What you do about it? [[Block! -> Block]] [[Dodge! -> Dodge]]

Your arm is strong! Your tendons sing! Her teeth splinter on your steely carpals. The spark in her eye is familiar, Her fangs in your fist are familiar. She is the sun. She is the blazing hearth. She breathes in deep, and fire fills the air Her heat surrounds you, blazing petals Her fire could destroy you! What do you do? [[Dispel magic!->Dispel magic]] [[Take it like a warrior!->Take it]]

You are not there. Her teeth shatter the air Your blade, in passing, opens up her cheek She finds you, fast as lightning, with her eyes Her smile is like the bloody sunrise. She is the sun. She is the blazing hearth. She breathes in deep, and fire fills the air Her heat surrounds you, blazing petals Her fire could char your bones! What do you do? [[Dispel magic!->Dispel magic]] [[Take it like a warrior!->Take it]]

Your hands like ice etch runes into the air You carve a cave of still and cold and calm And meet her there; her breath glitters like diamonds And fall; for a moment, she stops, shocked. [[Stab!->Stab]] [[Punch!->Punch]]

What are bones for, but to be charred? You spread your arms in welcome to her blaze Your heart is steel, that heat teaches to dance. “You magnificent bastard,” she breaths, and drops her guard. [[Stab!->Stab]] [[Punch!->Punch]]

She is the sun in molten gold; You are moonlight, slivered white. You introduce an eclipse: That is, your blade clips her belly. You have her at your mercy. Her weapons have all fallen. Her throat arches beneath you, Hungry for your steel. [[Kill her!->Sleepy end 1]] [[Kiss her!->Happy end 1]]

She is sunlight on a dancing lake. She is the wind ringing the new leaves You’ll never match her grace, her speed So you bop her in the snoot. “Ow, by node!” She cups her hands Over the place where you planted your paw. “Hildegarde, that really hurt!” she hunches Defenseless before you. [[Kill her!->Sleepy end 1]] [[Kiss her!->Happy end 1]]

(set: $hildegarde_gone to true)When winter comes, the sun can give no warmth. Fire resigns when ice decides to stay. Icebite sinks fangs of frost into her side; The sun goes cold. But as she falls, her claws, around your spine Unseen by you, tear bone away from bone Both triumphant, both defeated, both lie [[Together on the ground.->Sleepy end 2]]

Her eyes flutter closed. Teeth slide on scales The fires in her heart light up the room One hand pulls you closer, one holds you off The feeling is mutual. This is how you think of her: Sunlight on your face, sunburn, sunstroke, darkness Music in the air, that song again, that earworm Honey in your mouth, velvet, cloying, comatose The thunder of her heart surrounds you. You have no rest. A moment in the furnace, then she pushes you away. Tears blaze gold on her face. “I can’t,” she gasps. “Hildegarde, I can’t. Not now. Not with you. Again. “You wreck me every time. I can’t with you. [[Just go.->Happy end 2]]”

(after:2s)[ — but then,] (after:4.5s)[What severance offends a rack of bones? What steel can pierce a diamond-armored hide? Winter never kills the sun for keeps, What once is dead cannot ever die. As patrons pick their way out of the door You sigh and rest your head on her breathing flank. The stars outside can wink out, one by one — Just for a moment, here, together, you both rest.] (after:15s)[[[``You were a brave warrior.``->Game end]]]

Hazy lights pattern the junk Outside Pat’s Java Hole Your tired tarsals, stained with offal, Lead you once more [[home from war->Happy end 3]].

(set: $hildegarde_gone to false)Dawnlight paints the sleeping graveyard Beyond the gate that guards your home; Ivory warriors, silent soldiers, Prepare the ground to sleep once more. (if: $frank_gone is not true)[There is Frank, with weary shoulders;](else:)[Gone is Frank, and dark his gravesite;] (if: $aubrey_gone is not true)[(if:$aubrey_ghost is true)[Aubrey’s here, and more than he was;](else:)[(if: $aubrey_bad is true)[Aubrey’s here, and much o'erthrown;](else:)[Aubrey’s here, and not alone;]]](else:)[Gone is Aubrey, and dark his loam;] (if: $dogs_gone is not true)[The hounds are here, high-spirited, hamburgered](else:)[Gone are the hounds, and the winds are rancid;] Kyle is here. Great. Lay you down. Let your labors Slip into the silent earth. Next year, once more, [[you’ll->Happy end 4]] rise to battle Whatever war your while is worth.

[[You were "it's complicated" with a dragon barista.->Game end]]

You head up the steps to the front door. The steps are not original; they’re sturdy concrete with a nice calcium ratio, and they look like they were poured in the last 40 years or so. Solid work, even if they make no special effort. You let your carpals trace the good wrought-iron railing. The shape and width of the balusters match the grilles on the [[windows.->Frank library 1c]]

Inside, The collection is shelved in honey-colored maple. There is a Librarian in the stacks, a cart of returns behind them.</p><p>They look to be in their mid 60s, sturdy and competent. The cut of their silver hair echoes the curve of their horn-rimmed glasses. They lift a book, peer at its spine, and shelve it without looking. Occasionally they brush hair away from their forehead. [[Seems like a fulfilling career.->Frank library 2]]

You are Kyle, and [[you are always a little wet.->kyle disco 1b]]

All the other (link-reveal:"skellefriends are looking at you.")[ There’s Hildegarde, with her steely gaze and her wormless nose, polishing her armor with thinly-veiled loathing. There’s Frank, experiencing deep misgivings about your structural stability. There’s Aubrey, looking at you with the kind of morbid fascination he usually reserves for galvanic experiments and free verse. There’s Rupert and Spot, not paying you any attention at all, except to sneeze occasionally.] You’re still pelvis-deep in mud. It’s really squishy. When you try to push yourself out of it, your carpals just squish down into it. When you pull your carpals out, your pelvis sinks deeper. Do you want to make a sensible plan to get yourself out? (link:": ]")[Yes, let’s make a — — oh, you’re thrashing around with no plan or method. (link: ": ]")[(goto: "kyle disco 4")] ]

No, you do not. You do it, if I may be permitted the liberty of this word, goofily. You do it in a way that is goofy. I am pretty sure a passing brass band is playing "Yackety Sax" while you flounder around in this mud pit. You do finally get your skull and ribcage and one arm out of the mud, though. (link-reveal:"Is that —")[ it's a worm! There's a worm stuck in your nasal cavity! It’s wriggling around in there like a weird booger. (link: "Ugh, Kyle.")[(goto: "kyle disco 3")]]

Congratulations! You managed to thrash around so much you flopped yourself out of the mud. You’ve lost a foot, haven’t you? It’s probably still in there somewhere. Ok, I guess, just reach down into the mud. Just jab your arm in there arbitrarily. Do you feel anything? You do? Ok, (link-reveal: "try to get it out!")[ … oh, it’s a potato. That’s not much good to you, is it? (link: ": ]")[(goto: "kyle disco 5")] ]

Oh, Kyle. …All right, apparently you //can// walk around like that. You walk on your potato foot over to the churchyard gate. There's a tall stone wall with a rusty iron gate set into it. The iron gate has a well-used iron handle. Do you want to go out? (link: ": ]")[(goto: "kyle disco 7")]

It…is? Why? Are you… Did you stick the potato on the end of your tibia? You stuck the potato on the end of your tibia. You can’t walk around like that. Are you planning to walk around like that? (link: ": ]")[(goto: "kyle disco 6")]

So here you are, a ribcage, a skull, two legs, one skellemtom foot, and one potato. No arms needed. Off you go, you emaciated Fresno nightcrawler. (link: ": ]")[(goto: "kyle disco 10")]

Wow, my bad! You just shoved yourself through there, didn’t you! Of course your arms came off, but you don’t seem too bothered. You’re still grinning, at least! (link: ": ]")[(goto: "kyle disco 9")]

Ok, let’s go out! It’s a big world out there. There’s the city, full of lights and noises and things moving around, and the forest, dark and deep. Just grab the (link-reveal:"handle of the gate and —")[ — the handle, Kyle! Pull on the handle! You’re pulling on the stone wall that the gate is set into! It’s stone, you can’t [[open->kyle gate 2]] that…]

What’s over here? Some tables with fun activities for living people! Oh geez, are you hopping over to one? Which one are you hopping to? The face painting station? (link: ": ]")[(goto: "kyle facepaint 1")]

You’re hopping around on your potato foot. The end of your tibia has driven through the potato and it makes a “thok thok” sound on the sidewalk when you (link-reveal:"hop.")[ You are boppin’ down [[a well-lit city street->kyle disco 12]], surrounded by living people in colorful costumes. They don’t seem to be too concerned about you, and I don’t blame them. What are you going to do, fall on them? Nudge them with your potato? That would be terrifying, if they were on a low-starch diet. ]

Lights line the streets and you, tall and pale and mostly cylindrical, blend in with the lamp posts. There are people in all kinds of costumes walking, laughing, sitting at folding tables set with crafts and activities. The costumes and crafts are colorful, aren’t they! You seem really interested in them. Oh, watch out for (link:"(text-style:\"shudder\")[that—]")[that— —that bush. You’ve tripped over a bush. Your leg is off, now. Shame; it was the one with your normal foot. You’ve got: - one leg - no arms - a worm in your nose - a potato foot (link: ": ]")[(goto: "kyle disco 11")]]

Kyle no! Leave those sticker children alone! Stop kicking them with your potato! Look what you’ve done now. You’ve driven all the living people away! They are bruised and starchy and covered in glitter! You’re writhing around in the drifts of fallen stickers! Why, Kyle?? Stickers are stuck all over you: gold and silver stars, sparkly holographic dolphins and shiny rainbow panda bears, and all that glitter, and all those rhinestones! $kyle_worm is wearing a little tophat somehow! Oh, Kyle. Well, i hope you’re happy with yourself. (link: ": ]")[(goto: "kyle disco 15")]

The face painter is confused and annoyed. The whole street is sparkly. You have: - one sparkly leg - a jazzy absence of arms - a glittering worm in your nose - a bedazzled potato foot - +2 to $kyle_stat Come to think of it, this worm has been with you through some tight spots. You should give it a name. (input-box:2bind $kyle_worm,"=XXXX=","") (link: ": ]")[(goto: "kyle disco 13a")]

You have hoppity-hopped up to a face painting station. The attendant, a living human girl of about 16, is initially non-plussed, but this is the age of Back Rooms and pareidolia and Chat-GPT, so after a minute, she picks up her brushes and asks what you would like. You manage to point to something with your skull. [[Is it the butterfly? ->kyle butterfly]] [[Is it the tiger?->kyle tiger]] [[Is it the skull?->kyle skull]]

You are a beautiful butterfly! The face painter did a lovely job painting your skull, and how you are a beautiful pink glittery butterfly. You get +2 to charisma. It’s kind of hard to tell that, though, because then you threw yourself onto the table and thrashed around in the glue! You rolled in the rhinestones and now you’re covered in them! Kyle, why! You’ve ruined the night of an honest business teen. Do you still have a worm stuck in your sinuses? Of course you do. Is the worm also covered in glitter and rhinestones? Of course it is. [[Oh, Kyle.->kyle disco 13]] (set: $kyle_stat to "charisma")

Raar! You're a tiger! You get +2 to intimidation. It’s kind of hard to tell that, though, because then you threw yourself onto the table and thrashed around in the glue! You rolled in the rhinestones and now you’re covered in them! Kyle, why! You’ve ruined the night of an honest business teen. Do you still have a worm stuck in your sinuses? Of course you do. Is the worm also covered in glitter and rhinestones? Of course it is. [[Oh, Kyle.->kyle disco 13]] (set: $kyle_stat to "intimidation")

The face painter paints your skull to look like a skull. It's very effective. You get +2 to skelletronosity. It’s kind of hard to tell that, though, because then you threw yourself onto the table and thrashed around in the glue! You rolled in the rhinestones and now you’re covered in them! Kyle, why! You’ve ruined the night of an honest business teen. Do you still have a worm stuck in your sinuses? Of course you do. Is the worm also covered in glitter and rhinestones? Of course it is. [[Oh, Kyle.->kyle disco 13]] (set: $kyle_stat to "bonessence")

…You are? (link:": ]")[(link:"<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/kyle-right.png'>")[(link:"<img style='margin-left: 200px;' src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/kyle-right.png'>")[(link: "<img style='margin-left: 400px;' src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/kyle-right.png'>")[(goto: "kyle disco 16")]]]]

Kyle, where are you going? Back to the graveyard? Aren’t you ashamed for the other skellathons to see you like this? (link: ": ]")[(goto: "kyle disco 17")]

Hmm, you don’t seem ashamed. You look ridiculous, you ambulatory stripper pole; covered in spangles, tinsel tangled in your ribcage, hopping on your one potato foot. But I have to admit that there is a certain majesty about you. If stripper poles could hop with determination and courage, they might hop like you hop through the alleys out of the city, past the library, beyond the path that leads into the woods, through the tiny hole in the wall by the churchyard gate (now sparkly, so so sparkly), over the stones and hillocks to that secluded corner where your stellated crew prepare once more to surrender (link-reveal:"their mockeries of life.")[ (if: $hildegarde_gone is true)[There’s Hildegarde’s sword, shining with unearthly light.](else:)[There’s Hildegarde, cleaning soot off of her armor.] (if: $aubrey_gone is true)[I don't see Aubrey anywhere.](else:)[(if: $aubrey_ghost is true)[There's Aubrey, but he's different somehow. More, somehow.](else:)[(if: $aubrey_good is true)[There’s Aubrey, and with him two very drunk, mostly naked humans.](else:)[There's Aubrey, his fine clothes torn to shreds.]]] (if: $dogs_gone is not true)[There’s Rupert, sleepily chasing Spot, and Spot, sleepily bouncing away from Rupert.](else:)[There’s a strange reddish pressure in the sky, the kind that would make your ears pop, if you had ears.] (if: $frank_gone is true)[There’s Frank’s hand-hewn coffin, empty, but surrounded by beings of light and eyes and wings.](else:)[There’s Frank, looking tired and content.]] No one bothers to look up as you enter. It’s only you, Kyle; ew, Kyle. There’s contempt in the way they angle their tubercules away from you. But you hop into the middle of the group and stand on your potato, and [[as all eyes turn towards you,->kyle disco 17c]]

(link:"<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/kyle-front.png'>")[(link:"<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/kyle-34-right.png'>")[(link:"<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/kyle-right.png'>")[(link:"<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/kyle-34-back-right.png'>")[(link:"<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/kyle-back.png'>")[(link:"<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/kyle-34-back-left.png'>")[(link:"<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/kyle-left.png'>")[(link:"<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/kyle-34-left.png'>")[(link:"<img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/rotato.gif'>")[(goto: "kyle disco 19")]]]]]]]]]

You rotato on your potato, slowly at first, then faster and faster, and no one can look away. For a moment, no one moves. (t8n:"dissolve")+(t8n-time:1.8s)+(link: ": ]")[... (link: ": ]")[(goto: "kyle disco good")] (link: ">: ]")[(goto: "kyle disco bad")]]

And then everybody moves! Frank sits on the edge of his beautiful oak coffin and gazes at you with gentle, earnest eye sockets. Spot and Rupert leap at the dancing lights. (if: $aubrey_good is true)[Aubrey and his companions start to dance with the energy of the very happy and very drunk.](else:)[Aubrey throws off the remains of his tattered finery and does a jig.] Hildegarde lets out a joyous ululation and raises her sword in salute. They all chant: (link-reveal:"\"Kyle!")[ (link-reveal:"Kyle!")[ [[Kyle!->kyle disco good 2]]"]]

Everyone is mesmerized. They only have eye sockets for you. No one moves as the sun tops the buildings of the city and the trees of the boulevards and shines, full and golden, (link-reveal:"on the graveyard.")[ And then, under the pitiless gaze of Earth's yellow sun, all those maxillae and scapulae and tarsals, all those ribs and mandibles and vertebrae and patellae, (link-reveal:"tumble into heaps at their grave sides.")[ What will happen? Without the restful dark, will this skrilliton crew ever rise again? You are still awake, Kyle, coated in protective rhinestones. But rhinestones fall off eventually. How long until they do? How long until the sun ends your terrible mockery of life and reduces you to a jumble of nameless bones? With no one to remember your name, no one to remember which bones are yours in particular, (link-reveal:"will you ever be anything else?")[[[ Oh, Kyle.->kyle denoue]]] ]] (set: $kyle_bad to true)

You were (link-reveal:"Kyle.")[ <img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/deal-with-it-4.gif' alt=':sunglasses come down:'>] (if: $kyle_bad is true)[(set: $kyle_tag to "And that's everyone else's problem.")](else:)[(set: $kyle_tag to "Deal with it.")] (after:7s)[[[[$kyle_tag->Game end]]]]

It is the night of All Hallows Eve, the one night a year that you and your fellow bonefolk emerge from your sleep of death. One by one, your skelertrong crew drag themselves from the mortal loam and shake off the clods of grave dirt. The moonlight traces their bones in silver. Goths would think this is just the greatest. [[There's Frank. Frank was a joiner in the 50s.->Frank description]] [[There's Aubrey. Aubrey gave rise to a whole genre of skellingtom boyfriends.->Aubrey description]] [[There's Hildegarde, the oldest skellerthing in the crew.->Hildegarde description]] [[There's Rupert and Spot. They are dogs. (Or, at least, Rupert is.)->Dogs description]] [[There's Kyle.->Kyle description]] <div style="font-size: smaller">(link:"Would you like to see some content notes?")[''Content notes:'' ''All paths:'' Descriptions of skeletons. ''Aubrey:'' Mentions of bodily fluids, rot, and non-skeletal corpses. Non-consensual posession. To avoid non-consensual possession, stay out of the woods. ''Frank:'' Mild visual shaking ''Hildegarde:'' PG-13 violence, blood, and alcohol use. ''Kyle:'' Mentions of bugs; kyleshaming. ''Rupert and Spot:'' Mentions of bugs and bodily fluids, some disturbing themes.]</div> (set: $kyle_bad to false)

You wake up in the muddy pit where you’re buried, with the moldy leaves and the bugs and the worms. You are face-down, and somehow your feet are closer to the surface than your head, so you have to sort of scootch backwards out of the grave. Do you do it gracefully? (link:": ]")[(goto: "kyle disco 2")]

…wow, you’re really going ham on that wall. You've got your potato foot rammed up against it, and you're pulling on the stones at the edge; at the same time, you're just whamming your bone foot against the whole area, over and over. Pieces of stone and mortar and chips of bone are flying in all directions. Watch out for shrapnel, nose worm! Ok! Good job, I guess. You’ve made a hole in the thick stone wall of the churchyard. But Kyle, it’s really small, there’s no way you’ll fit… (link: ": ]")[(goto: "kyle disco 8")]

...the first rays of dawn burst over (link-reveal:"the eastern wall...")[ ...and [[light you up like a disco ball->kyle disco 18]].]

You spin faster and faster. The potato starts to rotisserie cook. $kyle_worm pokes its little head out of your sinus. They have a little monocle now. Everyone cheers. “Kyle and $kyle_worm, the fanciest nose worm!!” they yell. You finish with a flourish and your nose worm tips its hat modestly. Everyone claps their clattering carpals in a riotous celebration. They finally get it. They finally get you, Kyle. You! Kyle! [[WOO KYLE!!!->kyle denoue]] (set: $kyle_bad to false)

''You feel a hunger unlike any hunger you’ve known.'' You are a fabulous fleshless dreamboat but you are hollow. Their lostness, their aching loneliness draws you like a straw in a stream. You are bone, and they are spirit, and you could be two pieces of one stunningly handsome whole. No one knows the hollowness in the place you kept your heart. No one understands your sorrow. Could it be that here, by this forgotten lake, you have found a kindred mind? Someone to finally ease your solitude? (after:4s)[[[...But do they like you back?->Aubrey nature 8]]]

Oh definitely, the worm in your nose looks like a $kyle_worm. (link: ": ]")[(goto: "kyle disco 13b")]

Let's see, what's next on your Halloween craft journey? Oh, the next booth has stickers! Some of them have ghosts and pumpkins, but some of them are so shiny. (link: ": ]")[(goto: "kyle disco 14")]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=feqwA-vN3Qs"><img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/macarena.gif'></a> [[ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: DALE A TU CUERPO ALEGRIA ->Aubrey good end 1]]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vOGhAV-84iI"><img src='https://www.confoundedcontraption.com/skeleton_crew/macabre1.gif'></a> [[ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: SKELEPHONY ->Aubrey good end 1]]

[[''The whole thing was extremely silly.''->Game end]]

Cheers and cries candled the night, Their voice-lamps loudly blazing! “Our Hildegarde is here at last— Great Holgar’s Arm! Our hero!” The hall ran gold with goods and glory The hall ran red with routs and roasts One entire side-hall turned into a bouncy castle And everyone bounced who would take off their greaves. Then Aelfric, son of Aefheah, strong of arm but weak of sense Brought his sword, Fred, into the bouncy castle; The whole thing folded on him like a napkin, And we had to cut him out of it. [[It was hilarious.->Party good end]]

Whoop! Gather round, you hilarious heroes! You did it! You chose the goofiest things i thought of. I hadn't planned to make this ending, but my mom and my sister both on purpose chose all the silliest things, and then made this face when they got the bad ending: : | I don't blame them. A silly option is an invitation. So here's a big duck: honk honk clown nose! [[Aaooooogah! Wacka wacka!->Party silly end]]

Gloom hung grim over Wotan’s hall, Grey frowns grimed the faces of his heroes, The goodly joy he’d sown had flown, The only war-spoils were sorrow. Each cup Frikka poured was salty with woe; The mead went sour, the food went foul, All glorious deeds were lost, every kind act was forgotten, The fires of heaven guttered, and wolves wore at the flocks. Wotan’s heart-heroes hung over the benches Their faces pale, their hearts unstrung Their hands’ strength lost, their voices broken [[All happiness behind them.->Party bad end]]