Consider: Depressed Necromancers Forced To Go On Mental Health Walks By Their Creations

Consider: depressed necromancers forced to go on mental health walks by their creations

"Get up, go outside."

It was like being ordered around by a chill running down his spine. He gave a blind, swatting wave into the space around him. "Piss off."

"Ha! You sure must be regretting studying resurrections instead of banishments, hm?" the ghostly voice echoed at the edge of his hearing. "I have aaall the time in the world."

It was absolutely killing him that turning off his hearing aids didn't work against ghosts. He opened his eyes, staring blankly up at the by now familiar shape floating above him. The look in the spectral eyes was infuriatingly soft.

"Come on. One little walk. And I won't give you any grief about your meal choices tonight."

"It's still light out," he gritted, too tired to even raise his voice. "And you can't make me."

The shining eyes narrowed. "Not yet I can't, but I'll learn. And I bet I'll be able to start chucking bottles of vitamin D at your head long before I'm strong enough to move your sorry ass."

"I did you a favour, you wanted this. And this is the thanks I get?"

Somehow the chill turned warm for a second while the ghost smiled with his whole face. "Yeah. I'm paying it forward."

He pulled the couch pillow over his head. "Go haunt somewhere else."

"Or, you could leave and go for a-"

"Fine, I'll go for a damn walk."

The ghostly laughter followed him all the way to the door and for a second it felt like the grey sludge gave way—

He paused with his hand on the key in the lock. "...are you coming or what?"

The victim was found strangled to death with a rosary, stabbed through the heart with a crucifix and stuffed full of garlic from several orifices. No reason to suspect the victim was a vampire, so currently we are trying to figure out what the fuck did he do to piss off the italians.

A light-hearted interactive fiction game about soulmates, chances and choices, written in ChoiceScript.

|| LINK to demo || [119k]

Here at Soulmates Inc we specialize in chance meetings!

Love happens.

It takes by the storm. It is lucky, it is cruel, it makes no sense, it elevates. It is beautiful, it rears its ugly head, then it is beautiful once again. Now that, humans can manage on their own.

Soulmate-grade connection is an entirely different brand. Enter you. That's your brand. It requires dedicated labor. Whimsical meetings. Nuance.

As a soul-link, you arrange for those destined matches to happen using the powers of glamor at your disposal. An ancient practice, really, though, as with everything, it has evolved and happily marched with the times. You work out of an office, have a phone plan, a lease, and a favorite restaurant. Your boss is not a half-naked man with a bow and arrows but a fashionably dressed man who goes to a gym and drives an electrical Mustang.

It is nice. Modern.

Just one rule. The only rule, in fact. A scripture, if you will: never interact with a soul directly.

Which is precisely why your most recent half-match staring at your confused face is so damn bad. Worse yet, they can see right through your glamor for some reason.

Now what?..

love is all around you but it does not have to be for you: play as aro, ace, bi, gay or straight. Your romantic prospects are three, but each has a story to tell

explore who you are: a firm and enthusiastic believer, a burned-out office worker, or a skeptical soul-link questioning their purpose

use and evolve your soul-link powers: Empathy and Shroud

keep up with your job duties and bring people together while trying to protect your employer from a greater looming threat

someone is throwing around heavy words like 'destiny', but dealing with existential questions is entirely optional!

Amber | Andrew Wyatt Once a high-performer soul-link, they flew too close to the sun and snooped around where one does not snoop around. Having fallen from grace at a company that believes in chances, Wyatt is back on probation, though under your supervision. The light is snuffed out of their eyes, and instead of being a firm believer, Wyatt now drips disillusioned pearls of what they think is wisdom.

A languid redhead who wears sunglasses more often than not.

Samuel | Samantha C. Powell Sam has a steady job, does weekly family visits and always parks the bike properly. How do you learn that? Sam is also your sparkling new charge, a common everyperson, a salt of the earth—nope, not that simple at all! You cannot seem to find their soulmate (never happens) and they can see through your glamor (never happens either). To be fair, Sam is freaked out by it, too.

Your sporty charge in a wrinkle-free T-shirt with a mess of locs held back by a band.

Martin | Mia Romero A hectic ball of energy that is a human person, they are passionate about their distaste for your employer's business and are happy to go in length about it. Romero is messy, yet strangely put together in their belief: a hurricane that may sweep you off your feet if you are not careful enough. They know things, things no human should. You should probably report that to your boss...

A city dweller with hair tied sloppily in a short low ponytail, perfectly matched with dramatic eyebags.

After the Quest

prints

Alfred totally brags about the kids in public, simultaneously shading Bruce who cannot defend himself using Batman:

Alfred: "Master Duke was a Gotham Genius Grant finalist at 12, and Miss Gordon holds multiple degrees." *side eyes Bruce*

Bruce:

Or

"Oh, Master Dick restored the car himself, he's got a phenomenal skill with automobiles, much like the late Dr.Wayne himself."

Outsider: "Too bad it skipped you, huh Bruce? Can't even change a spare tire."

Bruce: *seething quietly* "I wonder where he gets it."

And

A visitor to Wayne Manor: "These are lovely portraits."

Alfred: "The work of Master Damian, he's practically a prodigy. It's a relief that someone in the family is appreciative of the arts."

Bruce: "I appreciate art--"

Alfred: "Twelve years of piano lessons and nothing to show for it."

Later in the Cave

Bruce: "I appreciate art."

Alfred: "Apologies Master Bruce, it's a little hard to see things around here as you seem to think black is the last remaining colour in the world."

Bruce:

The joke that the bats see their contingency plans as a form of love is super fucking funny, don't get me wrong but honestly they probably do see it as that cause they just forget to say the second part out loud.

"after I've taken you down, obviously I'd find whatever made you like this and then find the cure."

They come from gotham where mind altering substances are basically everywhere. One of the most profound ways a gothamite could say 'i care about you' is admitting to having a plan to disarm/capture you in the case you go off the deep end, so that they could then get you a cure.

Unfortunately for the bats, no one else thinks like that cause what the actual fucks guys