(set: $name to (prompt: "Your name, please:",""))
You look down at the scrap of paper you found anonymously in your mailbox and confirm the address, this is definitely the place. Slightly confused you look up at the house in front of you which if you did believe, you would describe as haunted. Hesitantly, you knock of the door.
There is a pregnant pause before without a sign of another living soul the door slowly swings open, the creak ripping through your sense like nails down a chalkboard.
"Hello?" you call out, but there is no reply.
[[Enter the foyer]]
As you go up the stairs the artificial sound of fighting intensifies. At the top you find a single door that leads you to a strangely well put together home cinema. Stepping into the cinema your eyes are drawn to a seat at the front where a single folded A4 piece of paper sits with a single word, "$name" written on the face up side. You sits down carefully in the seat, unfold the paper and begin to read.
"So you have found the cinema! Visual narrative has always played an important part of my creative identity. On your right hand rest you will see a set of buttons, each of them will activate something that has inspired me or meant something to me over the years. On the left hand rest you will see a substantially smaller set of buttons that will show you what I have done with that inspiration."
**On the right hand rest**
- <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gJ9BHGX58vQ" target="_blank">Labyrinth</a>- The most compelling introduction to fantasy
- <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9SuW7c28SAM" target="_blank">The Magicians</a> - The idea of escapism from mundanity combined with the dark turns this book and series take has been something I love to incorporate into my work
- <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jFENSU8CmZk" target="_blank">Little Shop of Horrors</a> - The blending of whismy and dark themes perfectly incapsulates what I try to bring forward
**On the left hand rest**
- <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tCGh-6W78pQ" target="_blank">Milo and Otis, Recut</a> - Remixing existing media to give new meaning was my first experiment with video
Or, you could [[Return to the foyer|Enter the foyer]]
The smell of ozone fills your nose as you go down the stairs, finally culminating in a vista of server towers, the thrum of which fills your ears. Another one of these scraps of paper sits at the bottom, with the inevitable word "$name" sitting on it. You open it, finding:
"Welcome to the server room. While I try to be as flexible as possible with my creations, it is impossible to ignore that my brains is extensively a logical one. While this sometimes can be seen as a limitation instead of an advantage, it allows me to play around with technology a lot more than I could otherwise. Please, explore the room and see examples of my passions"
You follow the note's suggestion and look around the room, finding:
- <a href="https://callie.zone/ProgressStuck/" target="_blank">An old computer sitting in the corner</a>, it seems to hand an old copy of windows running on it, the scent of internet memes fills the area around it.
- To the left you see <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jo-uuawy9Ok" target="_blank">three</a> <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Iy4X_HH_MA" target="_blank">seperate</a> <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3P97MvTQbxM" target="_blank">screens</a> all showing different images. Under each screen there are oversized stopwatches, with graph paper clipped underneath showing a list of times.
- To the right is a set of display cases, with numerous strange stone like figures inside them. They all share a similar design style, but your eye is drawn to one in particular that seems to be shining with an inner light. Perhaps <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pdZQ98mWeto" target="_blank">touching</a> one may lead to the answer here.
Or, you could [[Return to the foyer|Enter the foyer]]
You find yourself in an old library, the smell of musty old books making you feel on the verge of sneezing. In front of the vast collection sits a single reading table, with a green lamp poised over it. Lit almost ominously by this lamp you see an index card with the name "$name" written on it.
Sitting at the table you flip the card over, finding:
"The library is one of the most important parts of this house. From a young age books were my escape to worlds set in a mystical past or a far flung future. The first creations I ever made were narrative based, and while I have put this medium aside for a long time, it's always been inspirational."
Sitting on the table are a series of books, which would you like to look at?
- [[The Jabberwocky]] - This poem's whimsically nature combined with the strange and inventive words drive a childlike wonder in me.
- [[The Goblin Market]] - The idea of celtic Fae, the rules, the wickedness and the strangeness is still one of my most treasured tropes.
- <a href="https://callie.zone/short-story-contraband" target="_blank">Contraband</a> - A short story written recently to try and rediscover my love for narrative
Or, you could [[Return to the foyer|Enter the foyer]]
This room sits in stark contrast to the rest of the house, a quite pleasant listening room! On the single chair sitting in the middle of the room you find yet another of these notes, this time what looks like musical notation. Sitting on the seat slowly and flipping the paper over you find a note addressed to you:
"Welcome to the listening room $name. To me music is an enigma, it's the one thing in this house that I cannot create myself. That is not to say I have not tried, I can play a large number of instruments to an intermediate level and the flute to an advanced level. However, the creativity aspect of it has always elluded me. But, music holds two things for me: memories and inspiration. Often in order to drive my creative practice forward I turn to music, listening to my collection and driving ideas of the feeling they give me. Wired into the speakers in front of you is an old MP3 player, flick through the music to see what matters the most to me."
- <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-r3Bs_KkP94" target="_blank">The bones of you</a> - This song instils a lot of emotions from past experiences and relationships
- <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QczQZiOE2WA" target="_blank">Formidable Marinade</a> - The first musician I ever reached out to and talked with, Mikelangelo showed me that artists, no matter how big, are still people.
- <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aAkWJmoL8KQ" target="_blank">Frank Sinatra</a>(the cake song, not the singer) - This song brings me hope, for some reason. Often when creating I will play this song to drive me forward
- <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c2D9B4qV4vg" target="_blank">When he died</a> - This song was the driving point behind one of my games, and is a great example of how music helps me create
- <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O8J4pTNZFjc" target="_blank">Trilobyte</a> - Music from soundtracks fill my music library, the often viceral nature of the music create a sense of atmosphere that help me set my own
- <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a3VVAGlDK0A" target="_blank">I want it back</a> - Once again, deep deep memories
- <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mVKIva2KddY" target="_blank">Aaron</a> - This song (and video clip) proves to me that I don't need high production quality to create something. Neil Cicierega generally brings me a feeling of hope, all of his work has existed only on the internet, but almost everyone knows something he has done (Mouth music, Potter puppet pals, The Ultimate Showdown)
Or, you could [[Return to the foyer|Enter the foyer]]You find yourself in a foyer with four obvious exits, one either side of you with a staircase leading both upstairs and down into some kind of cellar.
In front of you, on a side table sits a single scrap of paper, you notice your name written at the top. Flipping it over you find the following note.
"Welcome $name, this house represents my creations and what has inspired me. Please feel free to look around, but be careful. This place is in constant flux, not everything is set in stone"
- [[Up the stairs]] you hear the artificial sounds of fighting, the tinniness indicating perhaps it's being played through speakers
- [[Down the stairs]] you hear the hum of electricity
- [[To the left]] you smell something you recognise, musty and papery
- [[To the right]] you hear something rhythmic, the steady beat of some kind of distance base
’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
He took his vorpal sword in hand;
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.
’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
[[Put the book down|To the left]]Morning and evening
Maids heard the goblins cry:
“Come buy our orchard fruits,
Come buy, come buy:
Apples and quinces,
Lemons and oranges,
Plump unpeck’d cherries,
Melons and raspberries,
Bloom-down-cheek’d peaches,
Swart-headed mulberries,
Wild free-born cranberries,
Crab-apples, dewberries,
Pine-apples, blackberries,
Apricots, strawberries;—
All ripe together
In summer weather,—
Morns that pass by,
Fair eves that fly;
Come buy, come buy:
Our grapes fresh from the vine,
Pomegranates full and fine,
Dates and sharp bullaces,
Rare pears and greengages,
Damsons and bilberries,
Taste them and try:
Currants and gooseberries,
Bright-fire-like barberries,
Figs to fill your mouth,
Citrons from the South,
Sweet to tongue and sound to eye;
Come buy, come buy.”
Evening by evening
Among the brookside rushes,
Laura bow’d her head to hear,
Lizzie veil’d her blushes:
Crouching close together
In the cooling weather,
With clasping arms and cautioning lips,
With tingling cheeks and finger tips.
“Lie close,” Laura said,
Pricking up her golden head:
“We must not look at goblin men,
We must not buy their fruits:
Who knows upon what soil they fed
Their hungry thirsty roots?”
“Come buy,” call the goblins
Hobbling down the glen.
[[Put the book down|To the left]]