Optional CYOA

A simple story game where you get to pick what happens next!

Previous threads:
The first failed one https://churchofproz.forumotion.net/t1136-forced-cyoa
The second abandoned https://churchofproz.forumotion.net/t1183-forced-cyoa-redux

Right-o, let's try to start this up again now that WINTER HAS COME and we're all cooped up inside. Pick a setting, tell your friends to join in!
The adventure begins with a critical mass of votes! Or on Wednesday, after I'm done with all my exams and crap.

Hunger Games wins....ehh...let the adventure begin...

Congratulations! You have been chosen to participate as a tribute in the 76th annual Hunger Games here in fabulous Panem! Before we start, let's establish your identity.

You are representing:
A. District 3
B. District 4
C. District 9
D. District 12

C

C

A

C

June 20th, 20XX AD (yea dats rite we in duh future nao)

You are the 15 year old child of the poorest dirt farmer in District 9, the center of Panem's grain production. You have known nothing but the harsh weight of the plow your entire life. You stand now at the Reaping assembly, where hundreds of other peasants with grimy faces and shoddy clothes mill about nervously. Peacekeepers dressed in sharp red and black uniforms patrol the roofs of the surrounding buildings, armed with shiny long rifles.

At the stage far in front, a hook nosed man with arched eyebrows reads out the traditional announcement from a holographic teleprompter:
"Citizens of District 9! Our glorious Administrator Rove welcomes you all back for.....the 76th annual Hunger Games! Pause for cheers- "
He coughs, the crowd remaining silent. "dam, wasn't supposed to read that." he mutters. Deciding to laugh about this latest incompetency of the announcer later with your friends, you tune out the rest of the speech.

Suddenly, you hear your name called in tribute selection with absolute clarity, freezing in disbelief. Looks like you will never get the chance to do that. Nobody volunteers in your place, as your siblings are years younger. Within seconds, Peacekeepers march into the mass of people and tear you away from your weeping family. Eyes wide in shock, you remain still and silent. As the guards drag you out of sight of the crowd, the announcement concludes.
"For you tributes, and for the rest of District 9, have a Happy Hunger Games! And maybe the odds forever in your favor!" The hook-nosed man grimaces. "dam, it keeps happening..."

Before you know it, you're on the mag-lev train to the Capitol. You snap out of your stupor to find yourself sitting in the carpeted dining room, watching trees and landscape whiz by through the window. It's almost a nightmare come true. Not only do you face certain death in the arena, your family will be one hand short in the fields, and have less food for the coming winter. From the vids you've watched of the previous games, the odds definitely aren't in your favor. Your body is malnourished, and your left arm is twisted and infirm, an old injury from an accident that occurred while exploring some abandoned ruins in early childhood. You start to wonder who the other poor kid picked from your District is.

The metallic doors to the front of the compartment slide open, and a plump disheveled man wearing a gray sweatshirt and slacks comes through, carrying a large flask. He plops himself down in one of the fancy chairs, caressing his frazzled black hair. Imprinted on his wrinkled sweatshirt is a strange canine creature with an intrigued expression. He takes a large swig of whatever is in the flask and squints at you with beady eyes. You recognize the man's face. It feels like the two of you have met before, in a different life.

This is Lord Kelvin, one of the previous Victors from District 9. After he won the games, he used all of his vast fortune to purchase a remote island off the coast of Eastasia and declared that he would be spending the rest of his days there. Apparently life had a different path in mind for him.

After looking you over, he drinks from his flask again and places it on the small coffee table.
When he finally speaks to you it is in strange, trance-like tone.
"wow", he rasps,
"much weakness
so noob
very disappoint..."

Uncomprehending, you stare at him in silence. He stares back. This goes on for a few minutes until the compartment doors open again, and the hook-nosed man enters. "Yes, uh, I see you've met. This is your mentor, Lord Kelvin," he tells you, "Just talk with him, see what you need to know-" He gulps, noticing that Lord Kelvin is glaring at him with a deep scowl. "Uh, well I'll just leave you two to it then." He scurries back out the door.

Lord Kelvin harrumphs and speaks again, this time in a more normal voice.
"Ahhh, so I am your Master, you are my Servanto-san. Very good. I summon you to win Holy Hungrail war. First things first, don't even think about asking me why I'm here, or what happened on the island. This is about you." He drinks from the flask.

"Now, what is your greatest skill?"

A. Shamefully explain that you have none
B. Archery
C. Mah kung fu
D. Farming
E. Don't answer him

F. Partying

E

D

F

Lord Kelvin raises an eyebrow at your exultant answer.  "Oho!" he booms heartily while clapping.
such amusing
so wow

"It seems that your body is ready for this. I must warn you though, that skill only works well on Fridays." He attempts to drink from his flask again but finds it empty. He coughs lightly. "Ahem. We shall now commence phase 1 of your training with a...TEA PARTY."

"WAITAH!!" He calls out. "WE REQUIRE MORE SINENSIS GAS!"

A middle aged woman wearing a black and white servant's outfit briskly strides into the compartment carrying a steaming kettle and several porcelain cups. She retains a distant, neutral expression, apparently used to this type of orders.

"Yes, you shall have some tea to grow strong". Taking the kettle himself, he fills a cup with tea and pushes it across the table towards you. Emptying the rest of the kettle into his flask, he replaces it on the waiter's tray. "EN TARO ADOGE!!" he announces in gratitude. She leaves without a word. Lord Kelvin takes a long, satisfied drink, and then looks at you expectantly. The teacup sits innocuously, a beverage ready for consumption.

A. Drink the Tea
B. Don't drink
"OHHHHHH, so you think CHOICE is your ALLY?" he drawls, eyes widening. Slapping both hands on the armrests, he gets up and begins pacing the compartment. He seems to have become a completely different person from the sleepy man that came in the door.
"You merely adopted the choice! I was born in it, molded by it!" He extends his arms to indicate the surroundings.

"This is what it means to be on a railroad."

He approaches you menacingly, showing crooked teeth in a maniacal grin. Alarmed, you scoot back from the table, but before you can get up from the chair he is upon you, clamping a hand down hard on your head to keep you pinned to the seat. With his other hand he lifts the teacup and brings it to your face. Simultaneously struggling against his headlock, you desperately try to push away the cup but your arms are just too weak.

As the cup's rim touches your lips, he leans forward and whispers into your right ear:
"The choice betrays you, because it belongs to ME"

Your scream is cut short by a torrent of steaming hot tea down your throat.

Choo choo!

You wake up lying on a soft downy mattress. The room is pitch black. You are unable to remember how you got from the train to here, but the taste of the tea is still burned into your tongue and sore throat. At least you aren't on the train anymore.

Blindly fumbling around to the side, you manage to grasp a small rectangular object. A remote control. You randomly hit a button and the room becomes dimly lit. It appears to be a fancy hotel bedroom, with multicolored chairs and tables. You can now see that you took the remote from the green nightstand next to the queen size bed you are currently sitting up on. There is a note on the stand reading "0113".

The faint light appears to emanate from behind the large red curtains on the far wall. You get up from the bed and press the "curtain toggle" button. The red blankets smoothly move aside to reveal an alien landscape:

A feeling of pure joy rushes through you momentarily, until you realize that it's only a picture displayed by the window's overlay screen. This is confirmed with your attempts to touch the mushrooms being met by cold hard glass. Oh well. You sigh and use the remote to turn off the window display, revealing the high-tech streets and buildings of the Capitol city. Judging by the sky it is late in the afternoon.

Looking for familiar landmarks from TV broadcasts, you manage to locate the cluster of three tall tower blocks to the west. If the news reports correctly, this is where the seat of Panem's Administration is situated. Coming from a poor background, you find it hard to believe that these faceless, imposing monoliths were erected only last year. To the south you spot the mag-lev train line that you likely came in on. The rail bridges over a large beautiful lake for a distance and then curves away to the east. Down the main street to the north is a gargantuan construct that sticks out like a sore thumb. It resembles a massive cathedral composed of night-black obsidian, looming above the contrasting chrome of the surrounding buildings. It is lopsided, leaning to one side and interlaced with golden pipes. Four spires rise above it, each one ending in what appears to be a bifurcated fractal cross. Black banners hang from the sides bearing an occult symbol in red paint. It takes much of your willpower to tear your attention away from this strange sight and explore the rest of your suite. There is a luxurious bathroom with various beauty care products lining the medicine cabinet. At the end of a short corridor you find the elevator, which has 3 buttons: "Roof", "0113", and "Lobby". Checking to make sure Lord Kelvin isn't lurking nearby, you decide to:

A. Go to suite 0113, there could be something you're missing
B. Exit through the lobby and explore the city
C. Watch TV on the window panel

A

A, because it might as well show up here if not on my exams.

A

A

B. Don't give into the railroading! You must become a FREE man!

nah, fk it. couch potatoes, cuz potatoez r duh best
change vote to C

The elevator trip is smooth and filled with relaxing saxophone music that just rolls over your ears. You walk into Suite 0113, a large lounge area connected to a kitchen. You are greeted by the hook nosed man, who is munching on strange yellow bacon.
"Ah yes, for those of you who were found mysteriously unconscious on the train, welcome to the Training Center. You'll be staying here until-"
*crunch*
"-well, the Games begin, of course."
*munch*
"Oh sorry, I neglected to introduce myself. My name is Antono Revicus, your escort for the Games. "

He turns to the right. "Uhm, sir? The other tribute has arrived."
A large TV is mounted on the wall to your right, before which is a cyan IKEA brand sofa. Upon the sofa sits the mound of a man that is Lord Kelvin, absorbed in the high-class tea commercials on screen.

"I said, the other tribute is-"


Lord Kelvin's head instantly whips around to stare at Revicus, cutting him short. His face now sports a bushy mustache that wasn't there the last time you saw him. Revicus drops his bacon, slowly wilting under the intense gaze of your mentor.

After a minute Revicus finally works up the courage to speak. "......you, uh, heard me?" he asks. The other man does not respond.

Almost 2 minutes pass before the Lord of La-Mei turns back to the TV, muttering to himself softly. "yeeeessss.......exactly as planned...."

Revicus sighs with relief and picks up his bacon. "Anyways, it's a good thing you came straight here," he remarks to you after finishing the rest of the strip. "This leaves the head stylist and fashion crew just enough time to give you the makeover you need to be presentable at the Tribute parade tonight." He walks over to the elevator, removing a small ring of keys from his coat pocket.
"I'll take you there myself now. Any questions?"

A. Nope!
B. Why do I need a makeover, I look fine
C. What's this parade all about?

(If you have another relevant question in mind, feel free to choose that)

B, but change fine to fabulous.

D. FLIRTATIOUSLY bump into the hook-nosed man and swipe his keys.

E: Scratch nether region, spit into both hands, smooth over hair like a boss, and grab Revicius' hand for a lil handshake

same answer as kkhariso (Dave)

B

Revicus looks over your tattered sack-cloth garments and snorts. "Fabulous? I don't think so. Maybe that getup's the hottest fashion in District 9, but it definitely won't pass here. Don't worry though, your stylist is one of the best." The elevator doors open with a soft beep.
"In you go then."
Not quite satisfied, you walk into the elevator with him. Revicus hits the lobby button and you descend.

Emerging from the Training Center, Revicus presses a button on one of his keys. You hear a whirring sound in the distance, and soon enough a sleek-bodied dark green sedan turns onto the driveway. It doesn't appear to have a driver, but Revicus smiles and walks over to it.
"Yep. This is my ride. Bought it from this disgruntled guy for a dirt cheap price. He had no idea what he was missing."
"But now, the everlasting satisfaction is all mine."
He grasps the driver side door handle, attempting to open it, but upon pulling the entire door just falls off the hinges. Revicus barely manages to jump back in time to save his toes before the door clatters onto the ground. "WHAT...the...fua...." He stares at the scene, incredulous.
"Oh my god, this is not happening...." He picks up the door and tries to fit it back into the car socket. "No no no no no....." After several repeated failures, one of the tires deflates in a matter of seconds. Revicus is now red in the face and beginning to hyperventilate. He kicks the side of the car angrily, and the engine sputters down to a stop. "You know what," he huffs, "we can just walk there." He storms off to the right.

It is a short walk down the block to the venue, a beauty salon which does not look like a salon. Above the entrance is a flashing sign reading THE WATCH SHOP in sparkling neon letters.

You walk through the doors on a soft yellow carpet. A confident man in a elaborate gold-white 5 piece suit is waiting to greet you. His eccentric costume is one that could truly be considered fabulous. Golden wristwatches adorn both of his arms and legs. A gilded belt encircles his waist, culminating in a clock face with engraved roman numerals instead of a buckle.
"Oho, just in time! Watch your step as you come in!" he booms out.
As he walks towards you, the chain links of the numerous large pocket watches draped from his neck jingle together.
"Welcome, welcome to THE WATCH SHOP!!" he exclaims to you. "Is this my newest client, Mr. Revicus sir?"
Revicus nods, his mood brightened simply from being in the watch-man's presence. "Oh, very good!" The man of many watches then inspects your clothing, tilting his head and stroking his short beard fuzz in deep thought.
"Hmm, to be frank, you look QUITE terrible right now, but that's FINE! Because I, ROBERT LIGHTSHIELD the Second, am ALL about IMPROVEMENT!"

A. Genuflect and profusely apologize for your grave stylistic sins, begging this scion of the fashion gods to redeem your appearance.
B. Take this opportunity to run for the exit and make your escape.
C. Boldly reassert your claim of looking fabulous.

D. Pull down pants, and assert dominance too, along with fabulous-ness, of course.

D

A

A

A

"Oh, veery goot" He pats you on the head and helps you to your feet. "But there is no need to apologize, you cannot sin in fashion if you don't know what it is. But mark my words, when I'm through with you, you'll be a bona fide BELIEVER." He slaps a hand on your back and guides you along to the 'Operation' Room. "Have a seat there," he says, indicating a plush red dental chair surrounded by robotic arms and glass cabinets filled with multicolored bottles. You comply, and the chair automatically catapults upright to prop you into a semi-standing position. Robert snaps his fingers repeatedly. "Ok everyone, we've got a rush job, let's go let's go!" Several people scurry in carrying various tools, fabrics, and props. "We're on the clock now!" Robert adjusts several of the watches on his arms. "Now, District 9 is all about what...hrm....wheat, was it..."
The next 2 hours pass quickly, the crew, robo-arms, and Lightshield in a whirlwind around you. Measurements are taken, garments are cut up and sewed before your eyes, strange chemicals are sprayed and injected. By the time the chair creaks back down into normal position your body and face are completely covered in paint, props, and fabric. "Alright, we're done here." The other stylists file out of the room slowly.
Getting up from the chair feels like waking up from a vivid dream. Several heavy prop attachments as well as the shoulder pieces weigh you down on either side, and Robert Lightshield lends a hand to steady you. He places a staff like object in your hand. "Here, have a look at your new FASHIONABLE self." A large mirror taking up the entire back wall reflects the following visage:

The golden brown color scheme of the crops you have grown for your whole life pervades the entire costume. A crown of plastic wheat stalks adorns your head, and the scent of freshly baked bread emanates from you. The only thing out of place is the silver watch bandolier hanging from your right shoulder. Attempting to take it off, you find out it is actually glued to the cloth rather than hanging.
You look back at Robert Lightshield's smiling, eager face.

"So, what do you think?"

A. It's PERFECT!
B. I don't like it at all, please take it off
C. It needs a little work
D. Suitably equipped, it is time to march off to battle.

D. Hand me my longsword.

B

B

A

"Nonsense!" he says, ignoring your protests, "I'm sure you'll learn to LOVE it! There's not enough time for another job anyway."
Attempting to pry off the garments proves to be fruitless. Wheat does fall into the grain food group after all.
"Gentlemen, our star is ready for viewing!"
Lord Kelvin and Antono Revicus walk in to see your new outfit. Revicus barely manages to contain his gales of laughter. Lord Kelvin forms an O with his lips and exclaims
wow
what fashion
so whole grain
much nutrition
wheat chex

Several minutes later when both have calmed down, Revicus announces time to go to the parade. The three of you walk outside, with Robert Lightshield and his fashion crew standing together waving goodbye simultaneously.
In a more serious tone, Lord Kelvin speaks to you:
"I probably should have asked this of you before, but you may find yourselves in a situation where one must kill the other in the Arena. Knowing that, do you still want to meet the other tribute from your District? We have special arrangements planned for the parade if you don't."

A. Yes
B. No

B. Mystery meat is always the best meat, especially when served cold.

A. and attempt to kill him there

A

itsame273 wrote:A. and attempt to kill him there

saving this in case anyone has regrets, because you shouldn't have regrets, this was the only path

I meant him to refer to the tribute that would be met. If you prefer, I will use him/her next time.

A. and attempt to kill him there

"Very well then. You can come on out, now." Lord Kelvin says, knocking on a wooden closet door. A skinny young boy with black hair, somewhere around 9 years of age, walks out wearing a smaller version of your outfit. "Um...hi." he says sheepishly with a forced smile. "My name is..."
This is your chance to strike! Leveling your wheat-staff like a spear, you charge towards him at a lethal velocity.
"Eeeeekk!!!" he cries, jumping to the right. Attempting to change direction mid-charge, the weight of your costume throws you off balance. You swing the staff at him but he has already scampered to a safe distance. You run at him again, leaping up for a fearsome overhead strike. The boy dodges to the side again while covering his head, wailing like an infant. You hit the tiled floor instead and the wheat staff snaps in two. Running around carrying such heavy baubles leaves you out of breath. "What do you think you're doing!?!" Revicus yells in a panic. "The Games haven't started yet!". The boy continues to distance himself from you until he runs smack dab into the abdomen of Lord Kelvin.
"Please milord, don't let her kill me!!" he begs.

wow
wat r u doin
so scare
"You mustn't run away! Face your opponent like a man!" Lord Kelvin commands. He grabs the boy's shoulders and turns him around.
You pick up the longer piece of the wheat-staff to find the break has given it a sharp tip. Perfect. Time to put this little brat out of his misery.
"Now go. Be a man." Lord Kelvin urges, pushing the boy forward. "Nooooooo!!" screams the boy, attempting to squirm out of the big man's vice-like grip. You rush towards him once more, getting within a foot of piercing the boy's chest when two of Lightshield's fashion crew tackle you in the side, bringing you to the floor where the rest dogpile on top to keep you down. Lord Kelvin tsks and releases the boy, who runs out of the building with tears streaming down his face. "Oh very good! You have the fighting spirit," your mentor says, "But you were too slow to catch him. In the Arena, I won't be there to hold them in place for you." Revicus facepalms. "The parade is going to be a disaster."

And he is right, for you. To prevent further "incidents", Revicus has Robert Lightshield inject a strange drug into you that renders you unable to move any part of your body except your face. You use this singular degree of freedom to make extremely distasteful expressions at everyone as you are carried to the stadium. They freeze your arms into a raised, triumphant position and plant you on the black parade chariot next to the boy. You gnash your teeth at him angrily, causing him to quiver and whimper, but unfortunately he is out of reach of your maw. The chariot begins to roll down the avenue but you can't turn your head to get a good look at the cheering crowds or the other Tributes.

When the paralysis drug finally wears off you have been placed back in your room at the Training Center. It is late at night, and you are feeling hungry. What will you do?

A. Just tank it, that's why they're called the Hunger Games right?
B. Order room service
C. Go to Suite 0113 to see what's cooking
D. Eat out

D

Eat out who? Jk.
B. Order room service, ask for some nail polish, and nail polish remover too.

look at me I'm voting

D

B

C