IsabellaRose

binge watching

Guilty. I'll admit to wanting to ask more follow on questions than this game really allows. I like stuff like this. It's fun and enlightening. (oh, and I'll throw this out there- if I ever drop an answer and you want more details, please feel free to drop me an EcchiText. I love getting to know people here. I promise, I don't bite. Unless that's your thing, in which case, I may ) The next person wishes there were a way to reply to single answers here without disrupting the flow of the whole thread.

For once in the last couple of weeks, not guilty! I got 8 hours of sleep, woke feeling stiff but rested, and I'm now having a lazy morning in the warmest hoodie and fleece pajama pants ever sipping coffee and trying to post with two cats on me! Bliss! The next person has imagined what it might be like to be kept as a pet.

underage drinking

sexual position

Not guilty, but now I'm going to be hyper-aware of everything my body does looking for one! The next person would love a spa day right about now.

The soldier in plate armor looks you up and down and sneers. "Your father is dead, Princess. House Valoryn has fallen. There's nowhere for you to run." Princess? You're an archaeology student, not a princess. What would make him think...? You look down at yourself for the first time since waking. You're wearing a gown of crimson silk that shimmers in the light coming in through the broken window. The bodice is intricately embroidered with gold filigree depicted cascading vines and blooming flowers, the neckline an elegant sweetheart curve, and you can see your more than ample breasts fill it out quite nicely. The sleeves are long and flowing, the long skirt billows outward in layers of gossamer and brocade. A faint trail follows you as you move. At your tiny waist, a sash is tied into an elegant bow, its ends cascading down the gown’s length, shimmering with iridescence. You are shocked at how you look. You can only conclude that you're not in your own body. Somehow, when you fell into those ruins, you must have fallen into another world. Perhaps this is the version of you that exists in this world. Perhaps you somehow occupied the body of some poor princess on the worst day of her life. More likely, this is a hallucination or some dream conjured by your mind as you lay injured and unconscious in the ruins in Morocco. Whatever the case, this soldier moves toward you with ill intent. Does he intend to capture you? Rape you? Kill you? You have no idea what he plans, but you can tell by the look in his eyes that his intentions are not good. You take a hesitant step back, trying to give yourself time to think. It makes him laugh. "You can't escape," he says with grim certainty. "Where would you go? We have the castle. Your father lies dead behind you. Your knights are dead or fleeing. The day is ours, your highness." He says the last bit with a mocking sneer. If you try to pick up the fallen sword and fight, click here. If you turn and run, hoping to find an escape route, click here. If you try to reason with him, click here.

So... the fist couple of choices establish the world and your type of character. Not a lot of "story" choices yet, but once I know if I'm writing a male or female, if the story is going in the direction of a powerful character dominating things or a weaker character escaping from things, the choices will be a lot more "what do you do" instead of "who is here and what do you look like."

embarrassing situation

You open your eyes and look around. You're in the dark. This is not just dark, this darkness is absolute, a suffocating void that seems to pulse against your skin, pressing inward like a living thing. The air is thick and wet, heavy with the stench of decay and something metallic, like old blood. Something undefinable fills you with terror, a feeling of impending doom pressing down upon you. You have no idea why you're scared, but terror grips your heart like an icy fist. A faint glow the sickly green of rotting vegetation begins to seep through the blackness, revealing a landscape that seems to writhe and shift, as if alive. The ground beneath your feet squelches and moans, a spongy carpet of pulsating flesh riddled with glistening veins that pump a sluggish black ichor. You can feel the fleshy surface below you, warm and damp, and you realize your feet are bare. You need to get off of this disgusting surface, but there's nothing else to walk on. Towering structures loomed in the distance, twisted spires of bone and sinew wrapped in flesh that pulsates with a nauseating rhythm. You realize there is a sound that matches that pulsing, the distant sound of a heartbeat. The sky above is not a sky at all but a churning mass of unblinking eyes, each bloodshot and twitching as if in pain, fixing their collective gaze downward. In the distance, a guttural scream rises, not from a single throat but a cacophony of overlapping voices, a symphony of agony that makes your teeth vibrate and your blood run cold. And then you see one of the spires begin to move. Its tip unfurls like a flower revealing a cavernous maw filled with foot long, needle-like teeth. From the corner of your eye you catch a hint of movement in the distance, quick, skittering shadows that dart just out of the reach of the faint light, their limbs impossibly long and jointed at unnatural angles. You freeze, every muscle locked tight as the first creature steps into the sickly green glow. Its form is angular and wrong, as though it had been assembled from the parts of something else. Its head is featureless save for a single, gaping hole where a mouth might have been. From the hole comes a low, resonant hum that vibrates deep in your chest, like a predator’s growl. The creature moves on all fours, its clawed hands sinking into the pulsating ground with wet squelches. Then it pauses, lifting its head as if sniffing the air. Behind it, more of the creatures emerge, an entire pack, each one slightly different, but all equally uncomfortable to look at. One drags a tail-like appendage that oozes a shimmering slime, while another’s back is covered in jagged spines that drip with the same ichor as the veins in the ground. Their movements are almost synchronized yet oddly erratic, a chaotic dance of misaligned flesh and bone. Suddenly, one of them turns its eyeless head toward you, the hum from its gaping maw growing louder, sharper. You stagger back, your heel sinking into the fleshy ground with a nauseating squish. As you try to pull free, the creature breaks away from the pack, slowly crawling forward. As it grows nearer, you finally wrench your foot free and prepare to run, but to your horror, it speaks. It doesn't use words, but a sound that is both a scream and a whisper, a sound you hear both in filling your ears and your mind. "You… awake…" it rasps, its telepathic voice like shards of glass scraping against the inside of your skull. The others echo the phrase, their tones overlapping into a discordant symphony that makes your vision blur. The creature crouches low, extending one clawed hand. For a moment, it seems almost curious, its head tilting in a mimicry of something disturbingly human. But as the hum deepens, vibrating the very ground beneath you, it becomes clear this is no gesture of peace. The pack closes in, their movements steady and sure. Just as you are certain one of them will pounce, they suddenly become completely immobile. From behind you a voice speaks, and you are surprised to understand the words. If a female voice says, "Do not fear the chorath, human. I sent them to collect new seed, and they found that magnificent tool hanging between your legs." click here. <link forthcoming> If a female voice says, "Welcome, sister. Our Lord Malamialen has awaited your return." click here. <link forthcoming> If a male voice says, "Your choice, female. Kneel or be fed to the chorath." click here. If a male voice says, "What business have you in the lands of Lord Malamialen, warrior?" click here. <link forthcoming> If a deep monstrous voice says, "Mmm... dinner time." click here.

swallow jizz

You open your eyes and look around. You're in a dark, enclosed place... was it a cave? Some kind of ruin? Light streams in from the left and you can see that you are nowhere near where you remember falling. This place is a ruin, as you expected to find, but not the kind of ruin you expected. These ruins are much more recent. You are in a throne room, or what was once a throne room. It's a large room, excessive in size, with high vaulted ceiling and long windows along one wall. These windows are hung with richly embroidered, crimson draperies with the symbol of a black steed on them, most of them pulled closed. One window is broken, its drapery piled on the floor amid shimmering fragments of glass. This is the only source of light in the room, but it shows you enough to see the rest of the room. The opposite wall is covered in ornate tapestries depicting... battles? or are they cattle being driven through mountain ranges? You can't make out details from here, but you see the black steed from the draperies repeated in several of them. One in particular catches your eye. It might be a religious... epiphany? Hell, it could be a depiction of a bad drug trip. You have an urge to go examine them, but your eyes are drawn to the furnishings. It's all wooden and ornately carved in geometric patterns, the twin rows of chairs upholstered with bright crimson fabric with the black steed symbol on each. Several of the chairs are overturned or smashed as if some kind of battle took place here recently. A sword lies discarded on the long carpet that runs the length of the room between the two rows of chairs, and your eyes are drawn to the polished gemstone in the pommel. It must be worth a fortune. From the sword, your eyes are drawn to a bright, fresh stain on the carpet. There is blood on the carpet, and your eyes follow a trail if it along the carpet, up the steps of the dais, and onto the throne. A bloody handprint is outlined on the arm of the throne. Behind the throne hangs a massive battle flag, crimson with the black steed staring down imposingly from the wall with the word "Valoryn" across the top. Beside the throne lies a lump of a body dressed in rich blue velvet over armor that appears more ceremonial than practical. You stand and approach the body. As you get closer, you see that the body is dressed in crimson finery befitting a royal. Blood is drying in the long hair splayed out around their head, and beside the body, a crown lies on the floor. It is no simple crown, but an ostentatious and highly wrought statement of wealth and power. Made of gold, inlaid with more gems than you've ever seen in one place, it's a symbol of power. There is a sound behind you and you whirl around to see a man standing before you in full plate armor, his surcoat blue with a golden lion on the front. He's clearly from a different faction than the throne room in which you stand. He looks at you, sizing you up, and speaks. If he says, "My Lord, we are victorious! House Valoryn is defeated!" click here. If he says, "Your king is dead, Knight of Valoryn. Surrender or die!" click here. If he says, "Your father is dead, Princess. House Valoryn has fallen. There's nowhere for you to run." click here. If he says, "The Golden Lion of House Edrington is at your service, Lady Valoryn. We have beaten back the monsters and reclaimed your castle, though both our houses took heavy losses." click here. If he says, "Back away from the crown, you thieving bitch! I'll have your hand for stealing from our dead king." click here. If he says, "I knew you were behind this, sorceress. House Edrington won't fall for your magical trickery as Valoryn did." click here.

You can keep voting, but I'm going to work on the 2 most popular responses (fantasy and horrific nightmare) based on the votes so far!

belly star!

Guilty. I feel like there's beauty in so many things around me and I try to capture it in photos when I can. But I'm just not a good at it as my father and brother. They both have an eye for framing a photo that elevates mere snapshots to art. I wish that I had their vision. The next person recently had something go their way for once.

Oh good lord so NOT guilty. I've been told I sound like an asmr whisperslut, a milf trying to hook up with the teenage poolboy, or a phone sex operator. I don't even want to talk to people on the phone, much less have my voice recorded. I hate my voice. The next person has a physical trait they hate about themselves but nobody else even notices.

icky thump

Guilty when it comes to my depression and anxiety. Despite all my studying, support groups, and meds, those intrusive thoughts win far more often than I like. The next person has found the secret to happiness.

rag weed

Guilty. I used to do bad things to my brain to escape reality. I often woke up with a lot of unexplainable things to deal with, wounds on my body being one of them. I'm glad I made it through that period of life in one piece. The next person forgot something recently that they wished they'd remembered.

cool world

lost time

hard wood

Guilty... ish? The food is a big draw, but I want to go there for the scenery, the history, the people... the whole she-bang!

pit fighter