Chat-your-own-Adventure #5: The Closing of a Magical Mind

~ Blaine Arcade ~ Leave a comment

Author’s Note: This story was written live on stream with the audience bidding tokens (earned while watching) to determine the path of the story.  The underlined phrases in the choice of three were the winning pathways.  Stop by twitch.tv/blainearcade if you’d ever like to participate in our interactive fiction.

Trial Begun                          Judgment Rendered                           Found Innocent

Shiran had to wear the special circlet to the academy. It was only the first day of his mark, but if his parents’ tone had been any indication, there would be months more of it in his future. It wasn’t hideous, with its white gold coloration and central yellow diamond, but it was clear to everyone, student and teacher alike, what it meant. Continue reading →

Chat-your-own-Adventure #4: The Rezurrection of B’zz B’zozz

~ Blaine Arcade ~ Leave a comment

Author’s Note: This story was written live on stream with the audience bidding tokens (earned while watching) to determine the path of the story.  The underlined phrases in the choice of three were the winning pathways.  Stop by twitch.tv/blainearcade if you’d ever like to participate in our interactive fiction.

This adventure also started as a continuation of this story, which was written on stream as well for one of our viewers.  

Millipedes                               House Centipedes                                Velvet Worms

There wasn’t a single thought in the empty husk of a head belonging to B’zz B’zozz. It was barely connected to the rest of her exoskeleton after all this time. There had been rain, tiny squatters using it as a nest, and industrious collectors snatching pieces here and there to enhance their décor a few stumps and logs away. Continue reading →

Twitch Stream Story: A Gilded Grave

~ Blaine Arcade ~ Leave a comment

Prompt: Two brothers defend a dying kingdom.

The king was dead and the kingdom soon to follow. They followed as directly as possible, marching along the same path the king’s body had taken when carried through the fields of Tascott. His coffin was filled with red and purple silk, made from solid gold, and carried on supports of silver. A tenth of their wealth had gone into the ground with him.

The people of Varnhold had invested in their kings and queens for centuries. The crown’s success was theirs. The crown’s joy and sorrow were theirs as well. The birth of a prince was the swelling of familial pride all across the land, a swell with effects as positive as a bountiful harvest. Continue reading →

Twitch Stream Story: Impermanence

~ Blaine Arcade ~ Leave a comment

Prompt: A man walks up to a shop girl and hands her a slip of waxed paper.  It has the word ‘impermanence’ written on it.

The shop would close soon, evidenced most notably not by the switched-off lights, the calm music, or the closed sign itself, but by Buttercup’s yawning. She was a champion at it by now, after three years working the register at her mother’s shop. She could yawn like a hippo, loud enough to drive the last lingering scent-hounds out of the store.

The reason for calling them scent-hounds, as well as the excuse for her yawning, was in the nature of the shop itself. They sold candles. Oils. Incense. Extracts. Dried things in bundles from every continent that could grow sprigs or branches. They had all the positive smells in the world, but about seventy-three percent of them were relaxing. Every shift was a battle against fatigue, especially with the humming of the folk music in the background all day. Continue reading →

Chat-your-own-Adventure #3: Signature in Soot

~ Blaine Arcade ~ Leave a comment

Author’s Note: This story was written live on stream with the audience bidding tokens (earned while watching) to determine the path of the story.  The underlined phrases in the choice of three were the winning pathways.  Stop by twitch.tv/blainearcade if you’d ever like to participate in our interactive fiction.

Jack London Style                        H.G. Wells Style                         Dr. Seuss Style

The winter weather was perfectly lovely, but my ensemble that evening did not interact well with the bite in the air. I had no jacket or overcoat, my boots were nearly worn through, and the only thing capable of generating any warmth was my scarf. I was forced to wrap it around my head to protect my ears, nose, and lips from freezing, but the snowflakes landed on it incessantly, melting under the touch of my breath and flowing down into the scarf’s folds where its icy touch assailed my cheeks. Continue reading →

Twitch Stream Story: The Props Department

~ Blaine Arcade ~ Leave a comment

Donut fired his weapon. Well, it wasn’t his weapon. None of this belonged to him, though it certainly felt like it did in the moment. It felt like it was his revolver, his badass vest and cowboy hat, and his actual wiry mustache. It took significant focus to remind himself that he couldn’t even grow a mustache reliably. It was more like trying to grow chia seeds in a sink drain.

Still, he felt masculine. The bullet, garlic-infused, left the gun and struck Strusse in the chest. He was a vampire at the moment, so he was forced to recoil in agony. Steam, rather pleasant-smelling steam, shot from his wound as he tripped over one of the giant noodles and sank into the spaghetti that Donut was also entangled in. Continue reading →

Twitch Stream Story: Dinner Tolls

~ Blaine Arcade ~ Leave a comment

Now you probably want to know when I lived, and you probably won’t listen when I tell you that it doesn’t matter at all. I know you’ll think me quaint anyway when I describe my family’s kitchen, which is the most relevant stage in my tale aside from the one other one.

You’ll judge me as soon as I tell you we didn’t have electric ovens or plastic stove tops. I did not even know what plastic was until after the events in question. In all honesty I would happily give that knowledge up for a handful of pleasant memories, seeing as plastic has been no help in the fields of meal-making. Continue reading →

Chat-your-own-Adventure #2: Satan and some Cold Tea

~ Blaine Arcade ~ Leave a comment

Author’s Note: This story was written live on stream with the audience bidding tokens (earned while watching) to determine the path of the story.  The underlined phrases in the choice of three were the winning pathways.  Stop by twitch.tv/blainearcade if you’d ever like to participate in our interactive fiction.

Mr. Rind                                                   Needles                                            Hairy Pit

You were never supposed to go to the house with the teal roof, at least not on Halloween. Every other day of the year it was fine. The little old lady or the little old man would answer the door, or get their mail, or harass their cat into coming back inside, without bothering a soul. The teal roof wasn’t even that menacing, until it was lit in just the wrong way in late October. Continue reading →

Twitch Stream Story: The Frozen Address

~ Blaine Arcade ~ Leave a comment

Humanity of all stripes was gathered around the giant monitor. It was an autumn day and they were sheltered from the biting wind as it crumbled leaves against the building’s glass wall. It was the Institute for Colonial Communication: a building that had been mostly without a purpose for close to a hundred years. Every so often workers would come in and update the equipment as technology progressed, and some of those workers, now quite aged, were there to see it take effect.

The colony ship had been launched one hundred and twenty years ago. Things went well on the journey, as well as anyone could hope hurtling through space at varying incomprehensible speeds. Communication was constant if uneven. Everyone knew it would end when they landed on GM1. Continue reading →

Twitch Stream Story: Looks Like Rain!

~ Blaine Arcade ~ Leave a comment

They kept the Ricardos in absolute darkness in preparation for their appearance in the arena. They had to stand there, feet conforming to the neon footprints on the ground, and wait for the wall before them to rise. The whole family had been dragged into it: Mom, Dad, the teenagers Mark and Philippe, and little Selma who was just nine. Philippe was most familiar with this place; he’d seen it before, granted it was only in videos. He was surprised they didn’t snatch up their goldfish as well and put a stupid helmet and knee pads on it.

“Aaaaare we ready folks?” a voice asked through the wall, but it wasn’t asking the Ricardos. A crowd roared its approval, clapping their hands or slapping elongated balloons together. “Who wants to seeeee… some dirty laundry hung out to dry?” They roared again. “Let’s hope there isn’t any raaaaaaiiiiiiiiin!” The noise grew so loud that the Ricardos feared it would tear the wall down on its own. Continue reading →