Meteoric (horror/death metal band WIP) (5/8 Chapters, 68k words)

can you please add save slots

@midnytegoddess There are 6 save slots :slight_smile:

where ?

@midnytegoddess

this is what I see on my end. I would try clearing your cache and restarting your device to get the link to update properly

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The rectangular, white grocery store that you have worked at for several years looks modest enshrouded with fog, but reveals its drabness as you get closer.

Modest enshrouded should be something else?

Kanibor, the spirit trapped inside the microphone, did not speak to you again until you returned to your apartment. There, he growled at you rapid-fire, giving you a list of instructions to follow that very night. You only had time to shower and inhale a quick snack before leaving again.

Eat a quick snack?

You absentmindedly pick away at the pealing leather seat as you think about how all of this makes you feel. Honestly, there’s something satisfying about being able to put yourself apart from others with such little effort.

Peeling?

You drink the last of your energy drink, the rush of cold carbonation and making you wince.

Feeling/tasting the rush of cold carbonation?

"No,", he says, panting like a dog. “You’re not rich and famous, and I am not free. We’re not done until I say we’re done.”

Two commas.

Larry rolls his eyes dramatically, rolling his head with them. “Let me get my tiny violin and I’ll play a really sad song for you,” he says. “Where do you think I’d end up after you kicked me out of my own band, on a sandy beach vacation? No way in hell am I working at a drab music store selling pop shit til I blow my brains out.”

Till

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@ChanceOfFire Thanks! I like “enshrouded” as a nice descriptive word and “inhaled” as an exaggeration there but I fixed those typos.

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i wasnt logged in, my bad sorry

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Another round.

Evidently it was a busy evening, because dozens of grocery carts are crammed against the corrals, left leaning against light polls, or just left in the middle of the lanes. Your cheeks grow hot with indignation and your stomach lurches with anxiety. Just why, people? Effie is going to skin you alive.

Poles?

With a sigh, you reach out and wipe the mirror with the sleave of your jacket. In the distance, a vehicle swiftly approaches, its headlights glaring brightly through the thick blanket of fog.

Sleeve

Your heart leaps into your throat, but your reflexes are quick, and you ease your foot onto the breaks while taking the corner as gracefully as you can. Your poor old sedan struggles to keep up with your maneuvering, sputtering and vibrating ominously. Oil fumes reach your nostrils through your air conditioning vents, stinging your nose and making you gag.

Brakes

You didn’t do anything wrong to the contrary of that stupid ticket. You take a deep breath and close your eyes. When you open them again, you find the officer is still staring at you. Your car finally starts pushing out hot air, but that doesn’t stop a shiver from traveling up your spine.

You find the officer still staring

The rectangular, white grocery store that you have worked at for several years looks modest enshrouded with fog, but reveals its drabness as you get closer. The curb by the door has all but crumbled away, revealing the rusted metal skeleton underneath, and the white paint on the brick walls looks almost gray from years of cigarrete smoke damage.

Cigarette

Before you can get another word in, Effie lets out a shrill, spiteful laugh and wags her winger at you. Her nails are several inches long and painted a different color each week.

Finger? I think this was finger on my earlier play through, but I didn’t check the code.

“That’s like a bio hazard. You could have AIDs or Ebola or something for all I know. And you don’t seriously believe in that cult stuff do you? It’s all part of the entertainment business, obviously. No one actually believes in magical rituals and demons.”

AIDS

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@ChanceOfFire Good eye! I’ll fix these soon

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Such a cool story!! The price of fame and fortune is always so interesting to explore, and this is a unique way to do so. The pacing after the first chapter feels a bit fast to me; once we accept the Necrophone, it feels like we’re thrown into the next story beat with some info dumping to set the scene. The first chapter felt more like “okay, I’m choosing how things happens and how to react” whereas the following chapters felt more “stuff is happening and I’m vaguely aware of where and why and how I feel about it.” I like the band members, even if we haven’t interacted with them too much at this stage. Larry feels a bit cartoonishly evil at the end of the latest chapter, but I’m looking forward to see how his characterization unfolds. I hope he has a cool little revenge arc. Looking forward to the next update!!

Also, I’m SO with you on the green chips, they got that little tang to 'em.

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@FeLinds I wanted things to be a little confusing, but not too confusing. I’ll look out for that in the future and take a look at the last couple chapters and see if I can clarify things a bit. Glad you’re enjoying it so far

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Intriguing chapter! I liked that each band member’s talent is recognized and that it’s the collective group’s contributions as a whole, and not just the MC’s vocals, that leads Barty to want to sign the band. I really liked the descriptions of the bar and the crowd, as it helped present an atmospheric picture. Learning that Kanibor hates water is very interesting… I wonder what would happen if the MC threw the microphone into the ocean.

It looks like I’ll be making all of your dreams come true.".
Remove the second period.

“You’ve always hated me, haven’t you?” you blurt out, trying to stall.
It doesn’t seem like it’s been that long since chapter two, but this line reads as though it’s been long enough that the MC and Larry have had far more interactions than presented or even hinted at in the narrative. Either way, it makes the pacing feel off.

“What makes you think you want that mic?” you demand.
I found this line strange, because Larry has already stated he wants to prove that the MC’s a fraud.

Besides, everyone knows the Necrophone is mine.
I think this is the first time the MC says the microphone’s name aloud – I was surprised that Larry didn’t react to the odd name.

Looking forward to chapter four! :smiling_face:

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He’d be really upset

Good feedback, thanks. Glad you’re liking it

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Minor update:

  • 5k new words of details added to Chapter Two and Chapter Three
  • Barty now has a relationship stat

I’m only about halfway done with Chapter Four, which has branches with each RO. It will take me about another month to complete, so I wanted to put a little update out. Hope you enjoy

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What a cool idea for a game, I love death metal. Also nice cannibal corpse profile pic

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Thanks! It’s of my CC hoody

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I realize I’m barking up the wrong tree, but dang I want to toxically romance Larry. I want to tear him down and then build him back up. Such a wrong instinct, I know :see_no_evil::man_shrugging:

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I hadn’t planned on Larry being an RO, but I’d be down to write that if there’s enough of a demand :slight_smile:

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Slowly, you lift your head. Everything is silent except for the rushing of your heart beat in your ears and the sound of you hyperventilating. With shaky arms, you push yourself to your hands and knees and turn around to face the meteor. Your eyes go wide as the crater comes into view, but then the acrid smoke makes them burn.

Heartbeat is a noun in this context and should be a single word. (Sorry, I know word count is important)

You drink from your bottle until your thirst is quenched. The sweet, cherry aftertaste lingers pleasantly in your mouth.

You take a quick drink of your flavored water, which is so warm and sour that you pucker your lips, making Azure laugh.

The red flavored drink is sweet, then sour. This stuff is just sugar and chemicals, so it should remain sweet even when warm.

I’m just thinking, once we’re rich and famous, could we just toss the microphone in a trash compactor somewhere? I wanna see what that ending looks like. :grinning:

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Azure would wear this shirt

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