What bad luck. This journey to deliver a simple box has nearly ended in ruin. Not only did you lose the box, putting you deeper into debt with the infamous pirate Jones, but your ship was heavily damaged. As your ship limps into the dock, you turn to your crew mates to formulate the next step.
Yourself: Lets go to [[the Bar]] and drink our sorrows away
Mechanic: Lets go to the [[Bazaar]] and buy some parts.
First Mate: Lets go to the [[Junkyard]]. Maybe we can engage in the age-old parctice of trade and barter for the parts we need.Feeling quite down in the dumps yourself, you agree with the quarter master that the Bar is a desirable place at the moment. You enter the Bar, jaunt over to the Bartender and order:
[[Drinks for everyone!]] On the house!
[[4 Beers]] for you and the crew.
A bottle of [[Jupiter Mind-Melter]], a potent drink the locals brew from toxic space-waste.Ah the Bazaar. You can find many things of legal and not-so-legal nature in this whirlwind of vendors and hagglers and people just generally yelling to be heard above the din.
You consult the convenient broshure-map given to you at the entrance.
Do you head to the part of the market labeled [["Ship Parts"]] or is that too obvious?
Do you head to the part labeled [["Cool Junk ;)"]]? It sounds pretty cool tbh.This junkyard is a piece of junk you snicker to yourself. A mental high-five is in order for such wit. Where do you explore first in this area piled high with twisted metal?
Two options:
This narrow twisting chasm to the [[left|lost]] seems like a prime location to look for some spare ship parts.
You hear some [[shanties]] being sung on the far side of the junkyard. Like a moth to a lamp, your soul is drawn to the bawdy lyrics you hear afar.
Go to through a small door that says "[[Trading]] Floor". Interesting, a floor for trading, I wonder what kind of activities could possibly occur in a place like this.Wow! You didn't have enough money to pay off your debts but at least you had enough to buy temporary happiness and popularity with the denizens of the Bar! They're still patting you on the back as the Space Cops drag you off to Space-Debtors jail.
The End :(Ah, commiseration. You all share stories of the great times you've had together. The bonds you've made. Actually, it turns out you're not as close as you thought. The crew have been talking and they let you know easily that they'll be striking off on their own. It's okay you say, I like being a lone wolf anyway. You hold back tears as they all get up from the table and leave, saying their aopologies. It's only when they're gone that you realize they took the keys to the ship. At least you still have your captain's hat.
The end :(The purple glowing liquid is viciously fizzing as the bartender pours a shot for you and the quarter-master. The mechanic and first-mate declined to partake in it. What good ideas you have you say to the quarter master as you make a small toast and then toss them back. You immediately lose feeling in your toes and your face. You don't have to think of the horrible debt you're in if you can't think at all, yknow.
The End :(Wow, turns out that this place has literally every ship part you could want. You feel lost in a forest of steel and chrome parts, pipes and tanks and standard plastic bits evenly layed out along the walls. You don't actually recognize any of the pieces, but you can't tell your crew because that wouldn't be very captain-like would it?
Suck up your pride and ask the [[mechanic]] what ship part needs replacing.
Walk to the vendor with the [[shiniest, fanciest looking parts]] because surely you can't go wrong with parts of that quuality.You've stumbled upon what is possibly the most radical part of this entire place! Look at all this cool junk! Your crew agrees as they inspect their reflections in the multitude of chrome surfaces everywhere. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves except for the mechanic who is tugging your elbow and pointing at the [[Ship Parts|"Ship Parts"]] section of the map but there's no time for that because just around the corner is the biggest most beautiful chrome refrigerator you've ever seen.
[[Gaze]] into your reflection in the fridge.
[[Open]] the door.
[[Look]] at some other cool junk in the area.The mechanic takes over and, after sniffing through some stalls, finds the 2 coolant units and a fuel tank that will readily replace the heavily leaking tank in the ship. You bring it to the cheery-looking, many tentacled, many-eyed creature behind the register, but you're about 100 credits short of the total. Where do you find the rest?
Shake down your [[pockets]]!
Do a [[magic trick]]!
[[Flirt]] with the vendor?
What's that [[BEHIND]] you!?
offer your [[Captain's hat]] as a trade.What beauty! What prestige! You have such a feeling of power as you limp away from the kind vendor (he only wanted a few non-essential organs in exchange!) and back to the ship. It wasn't even the part we needed says the mechanic? Bah, this guy has no taste! As your body shuts down from missing a few actually-essential organs, a least you can rest knowing your ship was pretty spiffy before getting repo'd.
The End :(A jingly jangly dance is seen as everyone empties all their pockets. It takes an expecially long time to empty the 20+pockets on your stylish cargo pants. You personally double check everyone's pockets despite their objections. Like Germany in 19th-century Earth history you give no heed to silly non-agression pacts and invade their personal space. In the end you only come up with 2 chapsticks and a squished candy bar, hardly enough.
Other [[plans|mechanic]]? You flourish your hands and a deck of cards flies out of your sleeve and scatters on the ground. It was supposed to fly expertly into my hand, you explain, but it just needs some more practice you see. You ask the vendor to choose a card, and he obliges. Now you give the deck a slick shuffle and another flourish, and produce a card that is most definitely the card that was picked. Except it's not how embarrasing. It takes a few more tries before you realize you never asked your curious participant to shuffle the chosen card back into the deck. Your reputation as a magician has been utterly ruined and you tuck the deck back into your sleeve in disgrace. No one has been impressed.
Another [[plan|mechanic]] ?A sultry smirk appears on your face and you give a smoky side-eye to the vendor. I don't need 20 eyes to see that you and I would be a good match you snarl at him. A few of his many eyes give a slow blink. If he's impressed or not, you don't know, because alien body-language is not your forte. However, the vendor has been through his share of drama and heartbreak. He can recognize the beginning of misunderstood feelings, and wonders briefly if it's the way he's dressed that lead you on. So he gently puts a tentacle on your shoulder and lets you know that while the gesture is appreciated he's really not in the time of life to be looking for a casual relationship, or even a relationship at all. There are many things in his life he's trying to work on in himself, but mostly he's trying to be the best person he can be, instead of trying to find the person the would be best for him. Your grin is frozen on your face but you have too much pride to let it show how deeply it's been bitten. Will your search for love always end like this? Will someone come along with the same amount of effort you're willing to put into a relationship?
Another [[plan|mechanic]] ?Despite his many independently-rotating eyes, the vendor is alarmed and directs all of them to whatever horrifying visage must be rearing up behind him. But no, those customers must have been mistaken because there is nothing behind but a few unworking monitors he was going to repair later. But you guys are already gone, having nabbed the unpaid-for items in your grubby, stealing little fingers, dashing away on crooked theiving feet. Are you guys truly happy? That alien, the epitome of honesty in a line of work where shirks and cheats are all too common. So honest he'd never heard of the sly trick you just pulled. He sighs, and at dinner that night he tells his nieces he's not hungry, go ahead and take some of his plate.
But hey you guys got the parts you needed time to repair that [[ship]] yeehaw.Your glorious Captain's Hat. It might just be a piece of cloth but to you it's more than that. It's a metaphor for something greater, a sign that the wearer is a steadfast leader, ready to embark on great adventures to exotic locales. You let a single tear drop as you hand it over. Somehow you can't begrudge the alien for taking it. It actually fits him quite well. Too well. With horror you realize the sheer charisma of this alien has enraptured your crew -no HIS crew now. Spiriitually and physically you aren't even a captain now, just a sad man with many debts watching the new captain of the ship walk away with all that ever meant anything to you in life.
The End :(You fix up your ship and leave this boring world behind you. Was life always this dull? Or maybe it just that your heart is a little more jaded and shrunken.
But what's this? A small tug on your heart perhaps? Are you thinking of turning this ship [[around]]?
To infinity and [[beyond]].So clean. so chrome. Your reflections is so crisp and clear in this reflection that is like no reflective surface you've ever seen. You slide a finger along the perfection presented you in glistening, lustrious metal, hardly daring to believe such comfort and belonging could be exuded by this refrigerator.
The chrome is my home you [[whisper]].You open up this bad boy. It could fit an entire human in here you think to yourself. And now that you've thought that, why stop there. It's practically a walk-in fridge so you just mosey on in, admire the shelving, and mosey on out. Except you don't mosey out. Because you let the door close behind you and this fridge is equipped with child locks, which you WOULD have known if you read the info tag on the door idiot. In the end it's your pride that kills you as you're afraid of the horrible nicknames people will bestow upon you. Captain-Stuck-In-The-Fridge they might call you. You asphyxiate in this beautiful chrome refrigerator, too afraid of what people would say.
The end. :(You wander around the Cool Junk zone admiring chome-covered objects of all variety. But something keeps tugging you back to a certain chrome [[fridge|"Cool Junk ;)"]]...You're not lost, I'm sure the exit is just around this [[corner]].You turn the corner and behold it's a group of pirates singing sea-shanties (whats a sea?). It's like a concert-hall of rapscallions. But wait, you recognize this band of scallywags. It's your old friend Pirate Jones, and he's honestly just as surprised to see you as you are to see him.
Join his [[song]].
Honesty is the best policy here. Tell him you don't have the [[money]]
Scoff at him. Ask him how he can call himself a captain with such a [[hat]] and then spit on the ground in disgust.
[[Run|run]], just like you run from all the inconveniences in your life.Despite your crews' best effort at backup singing, they can't support your weak tenor. You always knew you weren't cut out for the big time. The fearsome Pirate Jones is actually impressed, but not impressed enough to forgive your debt. Can you do anything else?
[[Return|shanties]]You can see a wheel spinning in his head as Pirate Jones tries to process what you just told him. Suddenly his eyes light up.
I KNEW i recognized you from somewhere! I was perfectly content to sing shanties and forget about fiscal items for the time being so I thank you very much for reminding me about the various debts you owe. Speaking of which, where's the dosh?
About [[that|shanties]]...You preen. You dance. You ruffle up your hat and make direct eye-contact with Jones while letting out a high-pitched squawk. Little do you know you are replicating almost step-for-step an intimidation dance often performed by a long-extinct species of Earth-bird called a peacock. If you knew about this bird you might call this display "peacocking" but for you it's just another Wednesday. Jones is drawn into this dance, letting out a squawk in reply and ruffling his own hat in a very aggressive manner. The two of you circle slowly, each new squawk now accompanied by a waggly arm flap or a jerking bend of the knees. He is the fearsome Pirate Jones, and his modest but successful pirating empire has been built through a mixture of loud yelling and the occasional removal of limbs of those who disagree with him.
But you're different from Pirate Jones; you can't really yell that loudly it only comes out as a weird squawk. And besides that, you have what really counts; a gloriously embellished hat which you took the effort to thoroughly bedazzle. And the crew begin to know it too. In their hearts and in their SOULS the crew of Pirate Jones begin to see that his hat is truly inadequate. Maybe it has gold floral designs but he can't really be that great of a captain if he didn't take the time to attach hundreds of little sequins to his hat.
The dance ends and weeping men lift you onto their shoulders, grateful that they're allowed the priviledge of even touching the man upon which such a magnanimous hat is perched.
But you are a magnanimous captain. As the years go on, it's known that you are willing to discuss the finer points of hat decorum and exterior design with anyone who asks.You and your crew are fleet on your feet and beat a quick retreat to somewhere more neat.
This thin alleyway chasm to the [[left|lost]] surely ends somewhere.
Lets hang a sharp [[right|"Cool Junk ;)"]] and hope we end up somewhere okay.You leave your life of crime behind you. The alien forgives you and you run the parts-booth happily for the remainder of your years
The end :)Surprise! This is no simple flea market for trading ratty old parts; You've stumbled upon a bustling commodities exchange; this is a glorious market for trading ratty old options! Tickers diplay the most recent price fluctuations in everything from Venus timber to Martian platinum ore. Traders run around with panic and greed and sheer purpose. The feeling of speculation and risk and endless profit is in the air. You have no experience whatsoever in commodities options but that won't stop you. You throw your hand into the air in a garbled mess of fingers and somehow that draws traders to you, asking what your position is.
Go [[long]] on Peruvian Death Beetles
Go [[short]] on MARS puts and steel yourself for an earnings call.You fool, while it's true that every kid for the past few weeks has been clamoring and wailing for a Peruvian Death Beetle of their own, in the end it's still a trend and now prices have come back to their senses leaving you high and dry with no one to buy your stupid beetles.
The end :( you die further in debtHow did you know?! While others dumped their positions in a panic you somehow were able to feel the delicate economic climate; you KNEW that your positions were at the perfect time to be held, and it has paid off in dividends. Your debts to the terrible pirate Jones are paid off (he always knew you were a worthwhile financial investment), and you retire a rich baron, memories of being a lowly space trader a distant memory...
the end :)You're cruising off into infinity and beyond!
The End [[:|narrator]])Maybe I'm just the narrator but that's a pretty morally reprehensible thing you just did. If I saw you at the park going down the slide I'd repect your attempt to keep your child-like sense of wonder alive but I definitely wouldn't let my kids play with you. Is it hard to sleep at night on that concrete bed of guilt? That foundation of lies? Or do you snuggle into the heaviness of your shameful actions like some degenerate weighted blanket? Yeah it's been a few hours but I'm sure the exit is just around this other [[corner|lost]]The chrome is my home you [[mutter]].You take a deep breath and [[yell]]:<div style='font-size: 400%;'>\
<p>THE CHROME </p>
<p> IS MY </p>
<p>HOOOOOOOOOME </p>
[[...]]
</div>
Your poor crew finds your twisted husk of a body slouched at the base of the fridge, your gaze locked into the eternal void of this chrome monolith, all thought of earthly pursuits wiped clean by it's eternal magnificence.
This story ends here but the chrome is unending.Double-click this passage to edit it.