Lying About Amnesia Secret unique lines
#I give Adrian an uncomfortable shrug.
Digging through the painful memories with Adrian isn’t going to help make you feel better, so it’s best to just move on instead of lingering over any potential trauma.
*if (liar) Or other things.
# “Thanks for the escort mission!”
“No problem,” Adrian lightly replies as Foreshadow plods beneath him. “Just please don’t be as bad as the escort missions from Metal Gear Solid 6.66.”
“I don’t think it’s possible for it to go that badly,” you say.
“Never say never,” Adrian responds.
“At least I promise not to get stuck in random walls? Or the floor?” you proffer as both of you slowly approach the awaiting trailer. It’s the least you can offer.
*if ((cuckoo >= 7) or (inhuman)) or (magic >= 5)
*set ground_omen true
Yet something tingles at the back of your mind at the mention.
*if (liar) Something that seems almost like silent laughter.
*elseif (liar) Despite the silent laughter echoing within your mind.
*else
“No promises,” you say. “Sometimes you just got to get stuck in some random walls. It’s a siren call. A call to the wall.”
Not to mention the floor. Sinking into it like quicksand is another way to go.
*if ((cuckoo >= 7) or (inhuman)) or (magic >= 5)
*set ground_omen true
And the very thought of it sends tingles of premonition down your spine.
*if (liar) A feeling of grim amusement that almost seems not quite your own.
*elseif (liar) The grim amusement that flares in your mind at the thought almost seems as if it’s not your own.
“Why don’t we split the difference?” Adrian suggests from somewhere off to your side. “We’re out in the open too much here. If something came into the stairwell that can see in the dark, we’d be complete sitting ducks. And we’re still not far from whatever was attacking the lobby.”
Something on the stairs.
You give an unconscious shiver at that. The complete lack of light here has left you both at a severe disadvantage.
Without vision, you’re so… vulnerable.
*if (bold > 80) or ((bold > 50) and (killer))
It’s a maddening position. You’re not used to being on the defensive like this.
*elseif (bold < 20)
A familiar feeling. But you’ve never been in quite as much physical danger as this.
*if (liar) Not in this lifetime.
#“Is it just me, or did they seem familiar to you?”
You’ve never met that white-clad stranger
*if (childhood = “amnesia”) and not(liar)
before, at least as far as your scattered memories can be trusted.
*elseif (liar) — not in this lifetime.
# I just stare with narrowed eyes at our so-called rescuer.
This all seems terribly convenient. Too convenient that you’re coincidentally rescued just in the nick of time. Almost as if things had been planned that way from the start.
*if (liar) A voice in the back of your mind whispers that you can’t even suspect how true that truly is.
You scramble backwards several feet from the jittering pile of furniture as you mentally count down within your mind. How far enough to safety? How long before it begins?
Exactly what is this stranger planning to do?
*label countdown
*if (liar) One Rider of the Apocalypse - Pestilence
Nothing but silence now from the other side of the door.
*if (liar) Two Riders of the Apocalypse - Famine
The sound of your own breathing fills your ears.
*if (liar) Three Riders of the Apocalypse - Death
How much longer do you have to wait?
*if (liar) Four Riders of the Apocalypse — Now will it be Conquest or War?
You put it all from your mind, smoothly throw back the many locks to your front door, and slowly & firmly swing it open.
And then with great self-possession,
*if (liar) oh, if only you knew,
you point over your shoulder towards the tendrils of darkness that are even now undulating their way down your hallway.
# “Your parlor tricks won’t trick me!”
“Ah… I see. You require something a bit more hands-on, then.” The smile upon the mage’s face sharpens ever so slightly as they lean forward.
You don’t like that smile.
*if (liar) Something laughs at the back of your mind.
A quiet command. A quiet demand. Your names.
*if (liar) Names have power. But only as much as you give them.
And so you come up with a brand new pseudonym just for this encounter. This introduction. Certainly you won’t be stuck with it for an extended period of time…
*if (liar) …right? You’d better like this name you choose for all the trouble it may cause you later.
For some reason you have the distinct impression that they haven’t been fooled at all. You favor them with an implacable stare in return.
*if (((inhuman) or (liar)) or (magic > 0)) or (((mind + charm) > 35) or ((job = “police detective”) and ((mind + charm) > 25)))
The corner of the mage’s mouth twitches ever-so-slightly upwards. A smirk directed right at you.
“When it comes to the power of ensorceling a mortal’s mind, both fae and demons alike can possess—” Merlin smoothly begins.
Your gaze snaps back upon the mage like a snake uncoiling. Venom burns within your vision, boiling like unshed tears at the back of your eyes, as you try to burrow a hole through the silvery-haired mage with your stare alone.
*if (liar) Denial is such a poison, isn’t it?
You roll back your sleeve and stare accusingly at your compromised limb. The bruise looks even darker than ever, as if it were absorbing every bit of the mystical light in the living room. A veritable black hole of a contusion.
Marked by a demon, huh? It figures.
*if (optimist < 20) Because of course you are. You wonder if you’re secretly possessed while you’re at it.
*if (liar) Not quite. You wouldn’t be here if you were.
You nod in understanding. “Got it. Find allies as soon as possible for the greater good,” you declare.
Simple, right?
*if (optimist <= 0) or (liar) Ha!
In the earliest renditions that used Merlin’s demonic ancestry, he was the son of a passing incubus sired upon a random woman with no greater threat or implications thereof. Merely one of many explanations for his supernatural powers. But in later versions, he’s literally the Antichrist purposefully created by Lucifer and other fallen demons as their representative on Earth.
Not exactly the most comforting thing to have on your side during a literal apocalypse.
*if (liar) Or is it?
# Galahad
“Hmm,” Merlin hums quietly to themself. “The successful Grail Knight. That shouldn’t be possible. Galahad never died… in the end he was taken body and soul off to his fate. To his preordained destiny.” And there’s a sharpness to the mage’s smile.
“At the conclusion to the Quest for the Holy Grail,” Adrian mutters. “Death or ascension, the stories never could decide.”
“Ascension,” Merlin confirms. “My sight reveals at least that much. And so Galahad should still be alive to this day as he was back in Camelot. Well, not exactly the same, but no reincarnation for that one. And in truth… I suspect he was the leader of the First Greater Circle in 2000.”
“Really?” Adrian’s tone remains subdued. “What makes you think that?”
“A great deal of research back when I first broke free of my seal. Only so much can be pieced together after literal decades had passed, but I’ve my reasons to suspect that he’s still in play,” Merlin replies, still somewhat enigmatically.
Interesting… it seems that Galahad won’t be a normal reincarnation like the rest of you. Or as normal as apocalyptic harbingers can be, that is.
*if (liar) And something laughs darkly at the back of your mind.
# Percival
You’re naturally drawn towards choosing Percival, even if somehow you sense this option hadn’t originally been there. As if the idea had just popped into your head. A whim of vagary, perhaps.
*if (liar) Even the weave of fate can have knots in the end.
*A/N: And by that I mean authorial brainfart where I picked the 13 most well known Arthurian characters with the most interesting reactions from Merlin/Adrian & plum forgot about Percival even with the cloudcuckoolander MC right there
# “The castle at the end of the world awaits,” I randomly announce as I go to pack my things.
Of course. The dawn waits for no one, after all. And in your mind’s eye you can practically see it. It’s coming. Or rather you are. How much longer now? This is one… nine, ten, eleven?
*if (liar) So close, yet so far away.
# I pump a fist in exhilaration. I’ve been waiting for this moment my entire life!
You pump a fist in the air in triumph. And perhaps give a rather indecorous hop or two as well.
Who’d ever think that you might be someone famous in disguise?
*if (inhuman) or (childhood = “amnesia”) Although with your past, sometimes you’d wondered.
*if (childhood = “amnesia”) and (liar) No, you knew. Have always known. I have…
# I’m having a terrible premonition here… I’m going.
Somehow you have a very bad feeling that you’re going to very much regret not leaving with your current companions. You’ve been recalcitrant up to this point, but still…
*if (liar) something is laughing darkly in the back of your head about things ending this way.
# “So anyone else feel up for a BBQ right about now?”
Adrian simply turns and stares at you. The judgment burns in chilled waves behind his gaze. Not the only thing burning tonight.
In the end, it seems that your joke is rather unappreciated.
*if (liar) Unseemly.
# …my SpyraThree WaterBlaster squirt gun.
Surely this will come in handy during your quest to save the world.
*if (liar) Oh, the irony. The most reliable gun available.
# …the small pouch of pearls of protection.
You eye the sachet of pearls once more. They clink together as you weigh the bag within your hand. Perhaps you should take them with you, after all? Merlin’s narrowed gaze burns into you even as you reconsider.
*if (liar) The price for leaving this behind won’t be paid by you.
# …my favorite figurine of Sir Gawain.
You carefully eye your prized figurine once again. It probably won’t help you during this
*if (liar) quest — or will it —
# …my Magic 8-Ball.
*if (liar) Do you gamble on the luck of the dice? Or perhaps you simply mean to cheat in the end?
# I just loom in ominous silence. I don’t like kids.
*if (childhood = “amnesia”)
*if (liar) Too many lies entangled in that period of your life.
# My thoughts are my own alone.
*if (mindcontrol) Riiiiiiight?
*if (liar) Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
*elseif (liar) Oh, are they, then?
# Ask Merlin what their specialty is since it’s not ${merlin_specialties}.
Once more, you find the nominal leader of the group gliding along the fringes of the RV, their fingers lightly tapping out an unheard tune in the air or along its metal siding. They pause at your approach.
“You’ve said that you’re not the best at ${merlin_specialty1}, ${merlin_specialty2}, or ${merlin_specialty3}. So what kind of magic do you specialize in?” you curiously ask.
A conundrum that’s been building up reveal upon reveal as time goes on and the mage disavows this and that sort of magic.
“Hmm…?” Merlin replies, a faint smile curling at the edges of their lips as they turn towards you, eyes gleaming bright in the shadow of the motorhome. “Now, now, MC.” They edge ever closer, expression darkly amused as their voice purrs within your ears. “Can you not guess what the specialty of an incubus might be?”
Their smile is insinuating.
*elseif (liar) Now don’t be led astray.
# Evocation?
“Interesting,” Merlin murmurs as they regard you. “While evocation — or rather summoning, as most laypeople may be inclined to call it — is most certainly one of the more basic forms that magicry can take, one wonders where the impression that I possess it comes from?”
*if (liar) Where indeed?
*if (current_status < 3) Have you looked too far ahead?
*else Did you remember what you should not?
# Theurgy?
Merlin veritably cackles at that suggestion.
*if (liar) And theirs isn’t the only laughter resounding in your head.
“Twould be a very good way to get smited,” Merlin replies as their
*if (liar) chuckles
finally begin to recede. “And I don’t mean that in the ‘smitten by love’ sense.”
# Demonic diablerie.
But if they refuse to use it, does that still make it their specialty? A hidden one, lurking in the darkness?
*if (liar) No, this isn’t hidden. It’s the concealer.
“In the end, as the Veil falls and both magic and the fae return to this realm, your otherworldly heritage will start exerting itself more and more,” the incubus says, both warning and promise.
“As you are now, surrounded by humans in their human cities, in their human civilization, and bound by their human laws of nature, what else can you be but something inherently human?” Merlin continues. “But that will change with time… and perhaps with your own will as well. Think long and hard what parts of you are deemed sacrosanct and what you’re willing to allow to be washed away in the pursuit of power.”
Something to keep in mind for another day, perhaps. It doesn’t seem that the Veil is likely to come crumbling down within the next few weeks at least.
*if (liar) Yes, we have a few months at that. The breadth of a Midsummer Knight’s Dream.
# Ask Merlin if they could possibly help with my mysterious ongoing amnesia.
*if (liar) Truly, you like to live dangerously, don’t you? While you can… enjoy it.
Merlin leans closer, hovering above you, like a soaring bird on silent wings.
“Close your eyes,” they whisper as their own gaze bores into you like ${favcolor} fire. An easy enough command with which to comply, as your eyelids slide shut to block out the blinding light of the sun.
*if (liar) Not the sun. Not quite.
“This level of enchantment?” Merlin sucks in their breath through suddenly clenched teeth. Even with eyes seared shut, you can hear it in the sound.
*if (liar) Even though no breath is ever needed.
“The level of a binding geas here is phenomenal. Obscuring. Constraining. Perhaps not even my power is enough to properly break it… not as I am now.”
Your tongue is leaden within your mouth. Your hands lay shackled at your sides. You briefly feel the weight of the world pressing down as an invisible sea continues to swirl around you.
“Not that something such is even under consideration,” Merlin mutters, right beneath your cheek. A thousand miles away. “This is a fortress for the weak to beat feebly against. This is a trap that the strong may break themselves upon. There may be dire consequences for you and whatever outsider who might attempt to remove this spell.”
The waters recede, as does Merlin’s presence, their starry essence withdrawing from you even as their fingers fall away. You scramble back up to your feet in their wake, heartbeat beating in your throat as the phantom touch of chains bites at your flesh.
But there’s nothing there. All is normal once again.
*if (liar) Indeed. Bind yourself to the earth.
“A human enchantment? Fae magicry? No, tis something else, more primal than that,” the mage tells you. Only that as their parting words upon taking their leave.
*if (liar) Ah yes… we did spook them, didn’t we?
Merlin stretches, the indolent limbering of a panther about to pounce.
Beneath their half-lowered eyelids, ${favcolor} eyes continue to gauge your every movement.
*if (((mind + charm) > 55) or ((cop) and ((mind + charm) > 40))) or (magic >= 20) Perhaps your every thought.
*if (liar) No superficial ‘perhaps’ with this one.
Once more, you flag down the leader of the group to ask an entirely innocuous question.
It feels a bit like randomly quizzing new buddies in
*if (childhood = “amnesia”) kindergarten —
*if (liar) does it? Does it truly?
“Ah…now there’s the question.” Merlin lifts a single elegant finger into the air. “Where is the foreknowledge coming from that informs a clairvoyant’s mind? And what is its true source? While your dreamwalking may appear to be prophetic to an outsider’s eye, tis no true clairvoyance. Not enough power behind it. Not enough of a curse follows in its wake.”
So you might ape being a soothsayer in Camelot with knowledge of more than a millennia in the future, but it would still only be an imitation, then?
*if (liar) Riiight?
# I suspiciously search for the sarcasm in the mage’s tone but hear none in the end.
Despite the current topic of discussion, the mage’s tone remains as serenely unruffled as ever. Neither seemingly troubled by what happened, your discovery of it, nor any biting implications beneath the compliment given.
*if ((mind + charm) > 55) or ((cop) and ((mind + charm) > 40)) Although one wonders what it would take to truly get past that ever-present mask of tranquility there. Somehow you sense far more powerful people than you have tried.
*if (liar) Did they?
Still, you’re somewhat happy that you don’t have to do this in the midst of a flush of teenage hormones like the members of the First Circle.
*if (liar) Right?
And for a moment, there comes the flash of pearly teeth, half hidden behind the mage’s hand. A serpent bares its fangs only amongst the concealing leaves.
You blink away the strange mental image.
# AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Ahhh!
Talk about a random jump scare from your imagination.
…
It was your imagination, right?
*if (liar) Ha ha ha ha ha ha…
Why not get eaten by the most abysmally eldritch abomination that you possibly can?
*if not(liar)
It can even be an achievement…
*if (cuckoo >= 40) One can never have enough of those!
*if (liar) Do you really want those that badly?
“But of course, there’s me. The safest and most dangerous of all,” Merlin says with a mild smile that sharpens ever so slightly at the edges. “Much of what applies to other incubi does not apply to me… but, always remember, I am trying to protect you, MC.”
*check_achievements
*if (((choice_achieved_deadend1) or (choice_achieved_deadend2)) or ((choice_achieved_deadend3) or (choice_achieved_deadend4))) and ((cuckoo >= 30) or (liar))
*if (liar) Perhaps they’ll be better at it this time?
“One by one, the group of friends fell to temptation and were cast away to make the long journey back to Camelot in defeat. If not worse, for those who would never return at all. And then came Lust.”
Definitely the favorite vice among a certain contingent of the population. Presumably including the incubus right before you.
*if (liar) Oh? Is that right?
“I may indeed be an incubus, but you believe that makes me an incarnation of Lust then?”
Percy mutters something beneath his breath.
*if ((mind + charm) > 60) or ((cop) and ((mind + charm) > 50))
It sounds suspiciously like ‘wrong vice’.
*if (liar) Indeed.
# I prep myself for the inevitable rejection.
You just knew what was coming here even before you started. But some latent masochism still made you do it.
*if (liar) Yours or someone else’s?
# And through it all, I can’t help but think about trains derailing here.
*if (liar) Cover your eyes and close your ears. Not yet.
And what else could you’ve expected here? Shot down. Spurned. Rebuffed. Fail. Fail. Failed.
His loss then. Better to have never tried at all.
*if (liar) Is that right?
But that’s not how the saying goes, is it?
Besides, the apocalypse has just begun. Who knows how things may turn out in the future? Somehow you sense this wasn’t a complete loss here.
*if (liar) Not yet.
“Memories are an inextricable link to who we are as people,” Adrian gravely tells you.
*if (childhood = “amnesia”) "Perhaps something you already know. Or at least suspect. They
change you. Their presence. Their absence. People back in Camelot could live for a very long time.
*if (childhood = “amnesia”) And you don’t have many memories of your own to counteract them."
*if (liar) You don’t… do you? Do I?
# Actually, never mind him being a stalker; I’ve just got a bit of indigestion, and that love confession was entirely platonic, as friends will sometimes do. Completely. Utterly. No denial here.
*if (liar) Oh lord.
# “Feel free to stop me if I start suffering from other bouts of insanity like that,” I quietly bemoan my inevitable fate.
“Yeah, you do seem to have gotten into the habit of doing that lately,” Adrian mutters as he side-eyes you. It seems that your recent rash actions haven’t gone completely unnoticed by outsiders as well.
*if (optimist_go) But in that case, that means someone should be able to catch you in time before you do anything too crazy. Right? Right? Right?
*if (liar) Too late.
# So if someone Adrian knew were hypothetically not human…?
*if (liar) Ah yes… how discreet of you.
# Tell Adrian that he’d make a great househusband for some lucky person.
And you have a certain person in mind right about now. Someone very conveniently close. Someone who may or may not even be helping with the cleaning at the moment.
*if not(FT_adrian_confess) and not(adrian_crush_reject)
Someone who might just be waiting to get their past memories back as requested.
*if (liar) Indeed. But do you think that would truly help?
“Always liked sittin’ on high. Gives a good perspective of things. What seems insurmountable doesn’t look quite so bad up here. Just don’t go too high.” What began as a seemingly idle comment grows in quiet intensity as Percy half-shifts to regard you. One eye nearly hidden by a long streak of dark blue bangs briefly glints like a star. “Lose more than just perspective if you go too high.”
An enigmatic warning.
*if (cuckoo >= 40) Of course, you already know.
*if (liar) Do you?
# “Are you ready to deal with the castle?” I casually ask."
“Always,” Percy simply replies. As one does.
Always prepare. Always be prepared. Always.
*if (liar) The chant within your mind echoes in a voice that’s not quite your own.
# This is definitely a bad idea, and I’m certainly not getting any closer to him. A very sensible thought to have as I rest my head on his shoulder.
*if (((merlin_denial) or (adrian_denial)) or ((cass_denial) or (gwen_denial))) or ((lore_denial) or (bro_denial)) Yes, a very sensible thought indeed that you most certainly never had about anyone else in particular. Definitely not anyone who might be lurking nearby at the moment.
*if (liar) And who is the true liar here, over and over again?
# And this required him to hang from the skylight to check?!
“Nothing better’n hands-on experience,” he mildly replies to your growing exasperation.
Your eyes narrow at that admission. If this was just his practicing, then what exactly is he planning that requires him to shimmy through the skylights? What, indeed?
*if (liar) You don’t like the sound of faint laughter that echoes within your mind at the thought.
# I decide this is the perfect moment for me to dive out the emergency window for… reasons.
*if (liar)
*if (greed)
But that’s not the same as a proper excuse, is it?
*else
Brilliant. You don’t even have a vice to blame this time.
# I vish to vash and vipe…
“The vindows,” Percy says with a sage nod. “All of them. And never forget the skylights.”
*if (liar) Never forget them indeed.
# I simply cackle ominously to myself as Merlin looks entirely unimpressed.
Yes. The knowledge is out there. You know it. However long it may take.
*if (liar) You realize that this is a dead end, right? The sort that wastes your time instead of restarting your life. By all means, chase your end.
# I’m quitting right here if I can’t summon magic by chanting, ‘These are magic symbols. Abracadabra hocus pocus, abracadabra hocus dabra. Newport news Walla Walla Washington. By the power of this magic junk, I have the power!’
“If those words can indeed help build your focus, then yes, they can be used so,” Merlin says, ${favcolor} eyes slightly narrowed as they regard you. “But I must warn you that most people tend to find themselves distracted by such comedy flimflam instead. Not everyone can be Dagonet.”
*if (mc_dibs = “Dagonet”)
But, of course, considering you’ve already claimed dibs on him, this can only mean that this was fated all along, right?
*if (liar) Yet why do you hear sighing in your mind as if a cold breeze is blowing straight through an emptiness in your head?
# Oh god, does that mean I need to start dancing around like an idiot?!
*if (dance_magic)
That’s right, Merlin had already briefly touched on this at the ley line. It seems that neither you nor Adrian are particularly inclined to manifest your magic this way.
*label uh_huh
*if (interpretive >= 2)
*if (liar) Are you?
“Fear of heights, hmm?” Merlin murmurs thoughtfully, a finger tucked beneath the elegant slant of their chin. “The most obvious way to counteract that, dear child, is to learn how to fly!” Bright silvery laughter follows the suggestion. “But barring that, hmm… I see, I see… stand right there where you are. Stir not an inch.”
You’re getting a very bad feeling about this.
*if (liar) Yes, you’ve done it now.
# What is that ominous creaking sound I hear now? Is the RV ladder starting to give way beneath my weight?
Because, of course, it would… That’s simply the sort of luck you’ve had these past few days, weeks, months, years… ever since you can remember…
*if (childhood = “amnesia”) Which might not be that long, granted.
*if (liar) Right?
You haven’t had much interaction with Percy to this point, yet somehow, some way, for some reason… your intuition is telling you that he might be the person to seek out when it comes to dealing with animals, phobias or not.
*if (liar) Your intuition is both right… and also horribly wrong.
“Why,” you simply say as you stagger back upright once more, still backpedaling with every word. “Why do you have a ${fear_animal} in your pocket?”
Why, indeed.
*if (liar) Why did you expect any differently?
Yes, asking the guy currently perched on top of the motorhome roof like an itinerant gargoyle to help with your little problem when it comes to heights seems like an eminently sensible thing to do.
Or perhaps you’re courting disaster instead. Those two things seem rather intertwined lately.
“Hrmm,” Percy eloquently says once you’ve communicated your problem to him.
As well as to everyone else within hailing distance of the vehicle.
“Try and come up the back ladder then. Far as you feel comfortable.”
Yes, that’s presumably how Percy himself climbs onto the roof, unless he’s sprouting wings when no one else is looking.
*if (liar) Would looking help or hinder there?
You may or may not be trying to sleep your entire day away here.
But it’s not as if you have anything better to do… right?
*if (liar)
*label go_go_slumber
Just a little further to reach him.
But what ends up catching your eye again and again while you perform your idle search queries is an advertisement for a new exhibit opening at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. It seems that they’ve taken out quite a bit of advertising for it, which is now targeted directly at you due to your current close proximity.
A new exhibit on medieval warfare replete with antique weaponry.
*if (liar) Here it comes, and so do we.
After all, what better option for stress relief than this? Napping?
*if (dreamer)
As alluring as the thought may be.
But it’s not as if your lucid dreaming is all that helpful in the real world… right?
*if (liar) There goes the laughter in your mind again.
# Actually, maybe I should be doing something a bit more proactive than simple stress relief at the moment.
You really want to put this off right now? Really? Truly?
*if (liar) Your funeral. And your frozen nerves during the next emergency.
# Research any further details available regarding the First Circle at Salisbury.
Yes, certainly something very relevant to research, considering your entire purpose now is to supposedly form one of these so-called ‘Circles’ to cast a magic spell that’ll save the world by halting the release of the Riders of the Apocalypse.
*if (liar) Oh, is that what’s supposedly going on here?
So very many headlines in January of 2020 scream about the disappearance of a certain fifteen-year-old while on Christmas holiday with his family in Cape Town. Asher Goldman, the only child of tech mogul Abe Goldman of ArchiTech King fame.
Ah, that’s right, you remember this.
*if (childhood = “amnesia”) Even if you have no memories of this specific week.
*if (liar) No memories, right?
# Do some background checking on a certain current companion.
Yes, the motorhome certainly is full of suspicious suspects at the moment. And that most certainly includes yourself as well.
*if (liar) Truly, in more ways than one.
# Post on social media regarding what’s happened to you lately.
Or at least a description vague enough for anyone outside of these circumstances to accept. The fire and a brush with the Midnight Mauler are wild enough tales without having to drag in demons, medieval mages, and apocalypses into it.
*if (liar) Truly? Something laughs darkly at the back of your mind.
# In general, I tend to view the fae in a negative light.
*if (inhuman) This may bode ill for your future prospects, but… you never had a choice when it came to the circumstances of your birth, right?
*if (liar) Never mind the mocking voice laughing at the back of your mind.
So it is. Your attitude might not change the circumstances of your nature, but
*if (changeling_attitude = 3) you still don’t have to like it one single bit. You and many others within this world.
*if (liar) Although with perhaps less hypocrisy on their part.
you’re still very glad that this is what you are.
*if (fae_attitude = “negative”) An oddity in itself considering your overall opinion of the fae, yet still comfortable
*else
Comfortable
within your own skin. Almost as if you’d chosen it yourself.
*if (liar) Indeed.
And here you are back again. To praise or perhaps shake your fists at the heavens. Because if there was a time that the Creator would intervene in the mortal world, it would be during the literal apocalypse… right?
Right?
*if (liar) Be wary what you wish for.
# I have faith in such things.
Even if you can hear the ghostly echo of Merlin’s sardonic laughter within your mind.
*if (liar) …that is just your memory of Merlin, right?
# That’s right, I hold a certain torch within my heart regarding Percy.
Somehow you can hear his soft voice within your mind suggesting that there are certain homeopathic antacids for heartburn like that. But that you seemingly know him well enough to have a mental Percy in your mind can only mean good things, right?
*if (cuckoo >= 30) and (liar) It’s getting far too crowded in here as it is.
I wasn’t able to include ALL lines because of the character limit. Based on my initial perusal of the Liar’s dialogue… they seem to know something about divine theurgy (but that doesn’t mean they are positive about it) lucid dreaming, and the events of the 2020 Circle. They are also (hilariously) supportive towards a MC who thinks Adrian rejecting their love means they have no chance with him, and are exasperated by Platonic/Crush Denial MC.
)
, Lancelot!Adrian 
). 6-/ (As someone said to me here on the forum) It is said in Arthur’s fun facts that his first love was a red-haired woman he met on his way to Lothian. Morgause, Queen of Lothian, has red hair.
I think I’m going to enter my era of roleplaying my MC as Morgause.
). If there’s a WIP that deserves it, it’s OKS; OKS is the most insanely good WIP I’ve ever played.
