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Congrats everybody for their respective prizes!

...And I have to say... Ponch... I can't see a cat nor dog without thinking about "It's Douglas" anymore!

[Character]

Character: Ponch
Plot: Sinitrena
Atmosphere: WHAM
Background World: Sinitrena
Word Choice/Style: Ponch
Scariness: kconan

Great run everybody!

A DISH BEST SERVED EMPTY

That day I left early at work. I had to drive all the way to my old house and back. I've spent my childhood and teenage years there and I can quite remember that the day I left I was happy as never before, even if I can't recall why anymore.

I had to go back there because my wife really wanted to see my old family lbums, which apparently none of my parents everywhere seemed to have. Anyway I was happy to leave early. There were some days in which I couldn't really stand my daily job as a computer technician. People always treated me like I was some sort of shaman: they all wanted the job done as quickly as possible and they thought that everything I was going to do came from some sort of innate skills, let's say the ones that you usually don't get paid for.

Anyway it was a lovely warm mid-spring day and I remember I was really enjoying the car trip to the countryside where my house used to be. The tires of my Spunky Ferry, as i called it, were smoothly trailing me over the asphalt and the random playlist of my MP3 player couldn't be more great.

I took time slowing down to look the vegetation at my side while I was driving the high road.

After a while, I drove by the sign which suggested that I was going in the right direction. I wasn't very far at that moment and I was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable. Most of me didn't want to check my old shack, but, hey, my love Doreen asked so nicely, how could I say no? After all, it let me leave early at work. So, music was on and that was it.

It wasn't sunset yet, but the sky was slowly becoming peachy. When I parked the car outside the old house I felt that the breeze was beginning to get a bit colder. I closed the car door and stared at the building. It still piled up pretty well, yet some mold here and there was inevitable. How long it was? 20, 25 years? Sure was that I grew up a lot out of that place.

The squeaky wooden gate that gave access to the patio leading to the house was nothing new. I used it to scare the hell out of my little sister when I was thirteen or fourteen. Poor Mellie, she would always began to cry whenever I told her that our yard was once inhabited by evil ghosts that would have come at dusk to kidnap the kids who played after sunset. I began wondering if I ever apologized for that, so I took up my smartphone and got a picture of the gate and the patio and sent it to her via message, curious if she did at least remember that.

Then I went for the door, which was stuck, so after I unlocked it I had to shove it with my shoulder.

When I went inside, the stuffy smell instantly got me. I've always had a slight allergy to dust, so my nose got stuffed quickly.

Everything seemed pretty orderly. Some light was ducking in through the closed and partially termite-eaten shutters so that I could barely see the forniture covered by large cloths covered with dust. The sunlight was fading out pretty quickly so I had to use my smartphone flashlight.

Since I was there, I went upstairs to check my old bedroom. The dust on the handrail sticked all over my hand while I hoped that the rotten old wooden stairs would not fall under my feet. When I entered, I felt a teenager again. All of my rock bands' posters seemed to be there in mint condition and even my framed pictures collages where perfect. I took a couple of minutes checking all those portraits of old friends and family members, traveling time backwards in my memories.

Yet, there was one picture I didn't remember at all.

It featured me as a baby, swingin' on a swing, being pulled by a young man very well dressed in a white shirt and black pants outfit. He showed a very peaceful smile. I tried to remember but really couldn't. Maybe it was some friend of my cousin Luke that was hangin' with my family on some occasion. Anyway, couldn't remember.

I went to my parents' bedroom, then, to get the family albums I was looking for. Even Ma and Pa's room was just as I remembered it. It gave me a little chill to see their bed and the old century furniture. It was so much time. The dust got my throat as I began coughing. The albums were easy to find, well stored in lowest big screechy drawer of the dresser. I then sat at the end of my parents' bed and with the help of my torchlight I started browsing through the pictures.

As I was browsing throughout all my childhood, I couldn't help but notice that in many, different pictures there was the same young man I saw in the picture from my room. "What the hell?", I thought. Family reunions, barbeques, seaside trips, special events... He seemed to be everywhere and I couldn't even remember his face. In each picture he showed the same peaceful smile and wore the same outfit. That was beginning to creep me out.

I was going to try and call my sister to ask her who that man was but, as I was about to dial her number, a voice hit me like a punch to the stomach.

- Tom! Dinner's ready!

I jumped up on my feet and, trembling, I tried to walk out of that room. I was holding the album tight and, as I went out the room I got striked again. There were candles lit up all over the floor showing all of the rot and mold that the walls, ceiling and floor grew up throghout all these years. I felt my heart in my throat and couldn't breathe.

I had to reach the stairs and climb them down. I could now hear the clanging of dinnerware and couldn't help but think that my brain was gone for good. I thought I was living some kind of unresolved trauma which I couldn't even figure out. Step by step, then, I slowly reached the ground floor. All the clothes that covered the furniture were gone, yet dust, mold and rot was everywhere. The door to the kitchen was half closed. I was frightened, yet unable to stop from reaching the door and open it.

- Tom! Get inside! Dinner's ready and you're gonna catch a cold! - My mother was there at the window, shouting at "me" outside, late for dinner as always. The kitchen was decaying as was the dinnerware that was already on the table. I couldn't really believe what I was experiencing. My mother was right there in front of me and she looked as time never passed. Yet time passed, and she... Well, she wasn't with us anymore...

I felt like dying: confusion and fear were making a killer cocktail, mixed with the stuffed nose and sore throat. I was trembling yet I wanted to say something, do something! But any efforts I could ever make where broken by a sound of footsteps coming from the other room. I freezed and felt like my very soul was dripping away from my body in cold sweat. As the steps where getting nearer, I hid myself behind the door in a darker spot that was almost untouched by the candles' light in the room.

Someone entered. A tall figure. My mother turned at him and went to hug him and had him to bend over a bit, just to give him a kiss on his cheek. I gasped, at the very moment I recognized the white shirt and black pants, barely lit up by the dim light. My grip on the album got loose and it fell on the ground with a dull sound. I panicked, I couldn't figure what was going to happen then, yet I couldn't move and didn't.

But nothing happened and the tall figure went to the table and sat on a chair. It was my chair, actually, the one I used to sit on at dinner time. As he sat down he sniffed the empty plate before him.

- Smells great, Ma - he said

What?! What did exactly smell great?! The plate?! I was overwhelmed, afraid that I could lose it and faint right there on the rotting floor of my old kitchen.

- Don't be a comedian, Tommy! - my mother told him, giggling while approaching him with an empty tray - Here, see? Pork sausages and bacon rashers. Just what you love!

It was just what I loved indeed, but there were no sausages nor rashers nor anything else in the tray. She "served" him and he started dining, gently as I never did. The cutlery did almost zero noise as he began to cut invisible sausages, eating them. He then turned his head to me and gave me that peaceful smile. So peaceful that it creeped me out completely.

I lost it and jumped at the door, leaving the album on the floor. As I ran outside to the other room, I stumbled and fell on the ground when I saw that the same man was sitting on the couch browsing another family album. I fainted and everything went black.

When I woke up again, I was in the dark and there were no sign of candles nor men in white shirt and black pants. I was laying down on the dust covered floor next to the family albums I came for. I began coughing and took my smartphone again to lit up its torchlight. I began to browse again, quickly, through the pictures. There was no sign of that strange man. Had I dreamed it all?

I got up and while I was trying to shake down the dust from my clothes the flashlight showed me that I wasn't wearing the same clothes as before. I was wearing a white shirt and a pair of black pants. I gave a scream and holding the smartphone as tight as possible I went for the entrance door which now featured a tall mirror in which my whole figure reflected in. I jumped again, scared of my own image dressed that way. My hands couldn't stand still while the trembling light of the smartphone lit up some verses that were carved in the mirror glass: "And yet they come back"

I tried and opened the door to escape that nightmare and, as I fled to the front yard I stumbled again and fell on the dirt as blinding white lights lit up from nowhere all over me.

- PLEASE! - I begged - PLEASE, LEAVE ME ALONE!

It was a cold night and I was on my knees. Few seconds of silence came before a round of applause.

I covered my eyes from the light, to try and see what was happening. Someone was approaching. It was my little sister Mellie.

As she reached me, she started laughing out loud, while the lights were turned down a bit. I was now able to see some sort of movie set built in the yard.

- Now THAT'S sweet revenge, Tommy! - she said laughing and reaching me for a hug. I was still confused.
- What... What's happening? - I asked, still panting.
- I set it all up and had you going aaaaaaaall the way, big brother!

Two people approached us, then. Geez, they were twins, here's why they were in two different rooms. What an idiot!

- But... The pictures... How? - I was actually unable to say anything that could make sense.
- When you called me and asked if I had some family albums I couldn't help but think to repay you of all the spooky jokes you let me through when we were little. So I called everybody out to tell them to not give you any of those albums if they had any.
- You little...
- Then I put my colleagues here from the studio up for some overtime work and they sure did a wonderful job!
- W-What about mom? W-Who...
- Dinner's ready, Tommy! - she impersonated her voice right away, just as I remembered it was. It was spooky by itself even without the costume.
- Geez, Melly... How could you?!
- Hey buddy don't even go there! Mom had a great sense of humour! She would have loved this, and you know it. So, don't try to turn the tables on me!

Well, she was right. That was totally Mom's... And I totally deserved it. Never scare your little sister, you may never know when she'll get her revenge.

EDIT: Typo (where -> were)

It's 5:30 AM here and I'm challenging myself to write on time!
Now, where's my blue cup of coffee?

[that time of the year!]

Hmm, interesting setting... Maybe it's because it's that time of the year!

A question, anyway!
Can the house be somehow related to the protagonist(s), as long as it's abandoned?

Congrats everybody!
See you on the next round

[Character]

Character: Baron - I really liked Top Hat and I really laughed when he specified "She's a thimble!". He really took her defense as a real gentleman should!
Plot: MiteWiseacreLives - I've found the whole story to be interestingly arranged.
Atmosphere: Ponch - I think that I could actually see the interrogation room before my eyes.
Background World: Baron - Geez, that Old Boot felon lived in the most hateful place!
Word Choice/Style: MiteWiseacreLives - We have really nice insults here It reminded me of some lines from this Monty Python's sketch
Topic: MiteWiseacreLives - That pile of dung was ACTUALLY dung and I really didn't expect it!

Atmosphere: LostTrainDude -Definitely the most intense set-up, great use of some very visual wording! Did you coin, 'serial killer scarecrows and lonely street wolves'? or am I way behind on my pop culture?

I think I'm beginning to be used to write these kind of analogies, that I think I'm "unconsciously" inheriting from songwriters such as Tom Waits Glad to see that they work! Thanks!

Congratulations everybody!

Yay, I did it! At least, I hope... I hope I followed the theme
Thanks again to both Sinitrena and Ponch for the support

A SIP OF LIMBO JUICE

    Jake was awake and laying in his bed.

    The rain was punching the windowpanes heavily as he was sure he could actually count each drop. He counted thousands and still couldn't put his mind to rest. The wind was howling through the window's old fixtures as the cold was bursting in like a tax collector on his bad day.
    Puffing, he jumped out of bed. His naked feet felt the cold floor and he trembled as the sensation ran immediately across his spine.
    It was a very dark and gloomy night, one suitable for serial killer scarecrows and lonely street wolves.
    There were no light sources in the room but his eyes were accostumed to the darkness, helped by a feeble light that came from somewhere outside.
    His hands began trembling. Was it the cold or not? He couldn't tell. He tried to stop them strangling them under the armpits, as a sudden anxiety was directing his breath like it was Harry Partch's Daphne of the Dunes.
    He went at the window and placed his forehead on the cold glass. Outside, everything was hidden by rain and fog. The room seemed to be lost in a nightmarish land where time and space had no actual meaning.
    He would have screamed, but he did not. A loud, long and dull sound echoed from who-knows-where and made the walls shake for seconds after. He was kind of losing it, at that point.
    That bastard chose to do something and he was locked in that room with no chance to escape.
   
    There was a telephone shaped device nailed to the wall, in a 40's fashion, yet it had just one button. He stared at it, shaking his head in denial. Then, in a short burst of anger, he went straight to it, picked up the phone and pushed the button.
    Long seconds of silence were followed by another, longer push of that button. A short feedback, like a radio transmission coming in anticipated a deep voice
    - What is it? – asked the voice, disturbed by fuzz.
    - How long will you keep me here, you freak?! What was that noise?! Where am I?! – cried Jake
    - You'll know when I will let you know – the voice was very self-confident and somehow arrogant.
    - You can't continue to keep me here, dammit!
    But then the transmission went off with another buzzy feedback sound. Jake hung up angrily and began walking up and down the small, cold and dark room. An undefined amount of time passed, yet nothing seemed to change by a tiny bit.

    Fear and anxiety, though, began to leave place for boredom. He went to open the fridge and took up a can of fresh Limbo Juice, then sit behind the empty desk near the window. He opened the drawer to take a typewriter and few sheets of paper and set everything up on the desk. He opened up the can, took a sip, then began hammering the typewriter's keys with his fingers. Pages and pages of childhood memories, wishes, fears, successes and failures were written in an unknown timespan.
    The pounding rain, then, became to sound more and more gently to Jake's ears. Almost like a lullaby, maybe, since he yawned for the first time in who-knows-how-much time. He collected the pages, sorted them, then took them with him to the bed. He tried reading some, but that darkness felt so comfortable then, that he fell asleep in no time, at peace.

    The door had no lock, yet it clicked and Jake woke up. A springy sun was entering the window. The pages he wrote were gone as was the gloom of that everlasting night. He found himself dressed in his favourite clothes, when he jumped out of bed to check outside the window. He recognized the road, the drugstore at the other side of the street, the bus stop and the people waiting there. He could now see all of those things that the rain and fog hid the night before.
    When he moved away from the window, the room felt smaller, emptier. No bed, no telephone, no fridge, no desk, no typewriter. There was only a sticky note on the door:

    "Sorry for the delay and thanks for staying all this time without disappearing!
    You may now enjoy the world I've just built as you remember it =)
                                                        - The Author"

    He woke up feeling like falling, after a dreamless sleep. He checked the nightstand clock. He was late for work, as usual.

As asked, here's the question I sent to Sinitrena:
Can I somehow "break the fourth wall" by writing the story of a character whose writer forgets to write something important about him or the world he lives in?
Just a simple example: a rockstar jumps on the stage at "the most important gig of his career" to find out that there are no fans at the venue.

Sinitrena then answered me that I could

Then, as I replied via PM, please don't extend the deadline just for me, I was late anyway! Don't worry about your "late" answer, there's no need!

If I manage, I'll try to come up with something in the next 12 hours. It could be a nice challenge
If I don't manage, well, I'll do it next time!

Thanks a million, anyway!

Argh, Lots of stuff to do! I hope to manage and hop in!

Yay! Great work Sinitrena, you deserve it!

Thanks everybody, it was a great round
Looking forward to partecipate (hopefully) in the next one ! See you on the other side!

P.S.: WHAM did you change your avat-ahrr for Talk-Like-A-Pirate-Day?

[s]

Congrats everybody for such creative pieces
And thanks for the welcome

Anyways, let's cast some votes! (I find voting stuff always so hard to do...)

Character: Durinde, Bogdan (if I can vote for the Pig Head )
Plot: Sinitrena, Baron
Atmosphere: Sinitrena, Durinde
Background World: Sinitrena
Word Choice/Style: Baron
Topic: Durinde

Hi there

First of all: this is my first Fortnightly compo, so don't be afraid to beat the hell out of me if I did something wrong .
English is not my main language, so I apologize if I wrote something that is unclear or made some mistakes with verbs (correct me, if needed).

I hope I didn't go off topic, since I didn't show any actual coercion but tried to convey it as a constant feeling.

DISCLAIMER: It contains some strong language but nothing else.



In that very moment Jall was angry at anybody, but the only one he couldn't really deal with was himself.

As she streched her right leg over the table, he couldn't do anything but begin to inject the black ink under her white pale skin.
- Drenna, this is crazy and you know it.
- I told you to shut up, Jall. - she was as firm as a mountain and seemed that not even a gun pointed to her head would make her change her mind.

In that very moment, he was so angry that he was afraid to cause her pain with the needle. Trying to stay focused he felt that as the worst moment of his career as a tattooist.

Each time he thought he noticed a wrinkle of discomfort in her expression, he would lift the needle for a couple of seconds, then massage the area with a sterilized cloth.
- Jall, I'm no kid, so don't treat me like one. - her words stung like the needle he was using to tattoo her.
The shape of a fist was slowly beginning to form on her skin.
- I don't think of you as a kid. - replied Jall, letting out a little hint of anger.
- Oh, I know what you think of me, Jall. - she used to call him by name whenever possible. To her it felt like a way to keep the distance, which for him was exactly the opposite.
- Ok! - startled, Jall suddenly stopped injecting, lifting away the needle from her leg - Let's listen, then.
Drenna, half stretched on the tattoing table, just turned her head a bit to check his eyes and stayed silent for few seconds. Her worn-out tanktop was covered with sweat stains but her attitude didn't let out any kind of anxiety, fear or whatever. She slowly folded her arms, staring his eyes.
- What do you want, Jall, hm? - She asked, somewhat provocative. She was capable to inject even more anger in Jall's heart, which couldn't stop pumping hard in his chest.
- Don't you know what you're getting into?! - He answered with a question, elusive, standing up and trying to win the staring contest at least once.
- Of course I do, dumbass! - she replied, winning again.
- So why are you doing this?
- I won't become the thing I hate, Jall. Don't worry. - her head turned to the other side - Do you mind finishing your job?
Jall shook his head while sitting again, next to her leg. The needle stuck again under her skin. The black fist tattoo was getting clearer.
- I hate you, Drenna. I hate you so much.
- Fuck you, liar. - she replied, as she knew that it was coming, but didn't turn her head again.

The buzz of the tattoo machine became a white noise quite instantly, after few seconds of silence.

The Ystervuis' clan tattoo was almost done. That was her key to join the clan.
- Shit... - said he, quietly.
- What?! -  she turned her head, worried - Did you got it wrong?
Jall shook his head, denying
- What, then?! - she was getting nervous
- It's perfect. - he quietly replied.
- So what, Jall? What the fuck is wrong?! - she became nervous, at last.
He startled again, throwing away his tattoo machine and almost torning his sterilized gloves, freeing his hands.
- I didn't want it to be perfect, Drenna. That's all!
She puffed, checking her new tattoo.
- If I had been wanting to take a risk, I wouldn't be here, Jall.
- Why are you doing this to me? - he said, breaking few seconds of silence.
- To YOU? - she jumped off the tattoo table, carefully landing on her boots while reaching his tattoo-covered throat with the right hand - Ystervuis abducts people, kills, raids each corner of this goddamn pile of shit we live in and I'm signin' in to join them. Where are YOU in this situation?
His neck started to ache a bit, though she wasn't trying to strangle him.
- I tattooed your ticket inside and I didn't want to. - answered Jall, firm but somewhat calm.
- Well, it's your fuckin' job, Jall! You inject ink for a living!
- You didn't pay me.
- Of course, I didn't. You love me, remember?
He stood silent as she continued, while moving her face closer to his.
- It would have been too easy if I had paid you, Jall. Credits would have been an easy excuse. - She began loosin' her grip on his neck as her strength left place to tenderness in a slow and sweet caress - But still you did it. You almost didn't oppose.
Jall was still silent and a struggle to say something was won by a whisper - Oh, how much I would have opposed...
- Yet you didn't, Jall.
- Right, I didn't.
- You don't know how much I would avoid joining the Ystervuis, but I won't.
- You're still in time, I can make that iron fist on your leg look like a blooming rose in no time.
- One day, Jall. Not today and I don't know when, so don't ask.
He went silent again, moving away his stare from her dark eyes. All the doubts and fears were stoking up a fire inside him that didn't know how to burst itself out.
Now, Drenna was afraid of every single thing outside that tattoo parlor as well, but wouldn't show it for no reason in the world.
If he were staring her eyes in that moment, he could have noticed her guard lowering for just an instant.

The undercity of Kys was facing another warm dawn, as the sky, over three hundred meters above, was almost hid by the uppercity. Loud whistles marked the beginning of a new day of work and sweat beaten up by tons of steam and steel. This broke the silence in the tattoo parlor, as the two were about to say goodbye.

- So this is it.
Jall turned to look her again, as she was slowly walking away from him.
- Yes.
- May I ask you just one thing, Drenna? - he folded his arms, now alone against a wall whose plasterwork fell off almost completely.
- Ask. - she replied
- Just... Why?
She was packing her things, while listening his question and took some seconds to answer
- Why did you, Jall?
- It was long time ago.
- It's not an answer.
- I didn't want to.
- Still not an answer.
- I...
He wouldn't say. But she knew far too well the answer.
- So, put two and two together, will you, Jall?

She wrapped up all the necessary in her backpack and headed to the door. As she was leaving, she gave him a smile, the first one in a long time.
Jall was alone, when turned off the lights of his tattoo parlor, calling it a day just when everybody else's one was about to begin. For once in a long time and for just few seconds, he felt free.

I don't know about fishing pole puzzle but I just wanted to say that your signature pretty much defines my life philosophy I will live forever, yay!

Basically, on Phatt Island you have to challenge a fisherman to get his fishing pole in order to complete the "Elaine's map piece puzzle"
Favourite Guybrush's one-liner against him: "You? Why, you couldn't catch fish at a restaurant."

As the FM Town was for the japanese market mostly, maybe this was some target audience decision. I mean, have you see the cover art for the FM Town Zak McKracken? Maybe they thought the cliff puzzle was just a filler or too frustrating for japanese people, who knows what goes through the heads of people deciding where to cut which.

You mean this one?
Yeah, knew that

But what I have found most "amusing" (yet predictable, given the audience), in Zak McKracken FM-Towns version, is the "characterization" that had the main characters - all "Western" people - have big manga-styled eyes, and had the Kathmandu guru and guard have "traditional ones", since they are from South Asia.

I've found the perfect screenshots!





I find those big eyes to be somewhat creepy, anyway.

[may contain spoilers]

The following thread may contain spoilers, so watch out!

I was playing the FM-Towns version of Monkey Island 2, "Hard" mode, through ScummVM.
Usually the Elaine's map piece puzzle needs 3 steps to be solved:

• The piece flies away from Governor's Mansion to the Cliff
• Once you get the fishing rod from the fisherman on Phatt Island, you can use it to try to take the map piece which ended hitched on a branch over the cliff. Unfortunately it will be stolen by a seagull while you're "reeling it in" and brought over a treehouse on the Big Tree
• Using Guybrush, Elaine's dog, over the pile of paper stocked in the treehouse, you retrieve the map piece.

On FM-Towns there is no point 2. I mean, during the little cutscene that shows the map piece flying around the island, it flies directly to the Big Tree. This makes the "fisherman puzzle" only some sort of "funny extra".

Out of curiosity: do you think (or know if) it is some sort of bug or is it a "workaround" for some kind of hardware limitation of the FM-Towns?
Anyway, while the original Amiga version was released in 1991, the FM-Towns version was released in 1994 ("the last title LucasArts ever published on that system", Wikipedia) and, actually, I'm not so sure that the same people worked on both versions: according to Wikipedia, Gilbert left LucasFilm in 1992.

Tweeting with Gilbert himself, he said that he doesn't remember this, but it is something he "would be surprised" about.

I think I don't understand the gravity of the situation, because I find this game extremely funny!
Ben & Grundislav, are a "dream team"

http://soshable.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/shut-up-and-take-my-money.jpg

Not much else to say, at the moment

I should have fixed that, now
Thanks for your feedback Nick!

[DAT ISOMETRY!]

DAT ISOMETRY!

This game deserves a special place in my bookmarks to notice future updates!
Great job, indeed!

hmmm, the agent always starts talking about crap when passing the first enemy and the game restarts

Fixed it!
Now when you're spotted the game displays a message that cannot be skipped with keys.

Thanks for your feedback!