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 A Cat Diary 
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Post A Cat Diary
Found by accident but I think it's aninteresting idea, how about we continute it?


A CAT DIARY

DAY 752 -- My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get from ruining the occasional piece of furniture. Tomorrow I may eat another houseplant.

DAY 761 -- Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded, must try this at the top of the stairs. In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair...must try this on their bed.

DAY 762 -- Slept all day so that I could annoy my captors with sleep depriving, incessant pleas for food at ungodly hours of the night.

DAY 765 -- Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body, in attempt to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was...Hmmm. Not working according to plan......

DAY 768 -- I am finally aware of how sadistic they are. For no good reason I was chosen for the water torture. This time however it included a burning foamy chemical called "shampoo." What sick minds could invent such a liquid. My only consolation is the piece of thumb still stuck between my teeth.

DAY 771 -- There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the foul odor of the glass tubes they call "beer." More importantly, I overheard that my confinement was due to MY power of "allergies." Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage....

DAY 774 -- I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a half-wit. The Bird, on the other hand, has got to be an informant. He has mastered their frightful tongue (something akin to mole speak) and speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room his safety is assured. But I can wait, it is only a matter of time.

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Wed Nov 13, 2013 4:25 pm
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Post Re: A Cat Diary
I remember this thing. I wanted to do something with the many captives of a senile mad scientist a la Horihone Saizou's Drainage City Vol. 1 Ch. 7 "A Flesh Artist" where the captives would leave messages and notes to prove they existed as they slowly become less human through psychological and physical torture best left to the imagination (although too often not) and the day-to-day trials of the long term "patients" as Stockholm syndrome sets in.

It's like somebody combined everything wrong with Mai-chan's Daily Life, Dexter, V for Vendetta and the Saw movie series into a collection of bits of drywall and cardboard. The entire thing was to be an interactive point and click environment without a clear goal. You'd just find these things scattered about a disused mansion where it's obvious a doctor lived. As you make your way through the house you'll find scraps, hear (barely audible to the point that you're not sure it's coming from the game) screams and moans along with people sobbing, full on crying and begging for death and eventually unlock new secret torture/operating rooms.

At this point creepypastas have become a thing and my lack of motivation has derailed that and myriad other ideas. Still, I like imagining what they would write if I ever dropped a pen.

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Wed Nov 13, 2013 10:21 pm
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Post Re: A Cat Diary
I've sent my cat army to hack furballs into your shoes.

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Thu Nov 14, 2013 4:29 am
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Post Re: A Cat Diary
fluffy wrote:
I remember this thing. I wanted to do something with the many captives of a senile mad scientist a la Horihone Saizou's Drainage City Vol. 1 Ch. 7 "A Flesh Artist" where the captives would leave messages and notes to prove they existed as they slowly become less human through psychological and physical torture best left to the imagination (although too often not) and the day-to-day trials of the long term "patients" as Stockholm syndrome sets in.

It's like somebody combined everything wrong with Mai-chan's Daily Life, Dexter, V for Vendetta and the Saw movie series into a collection of bits of drywall and cardboard. The entire thing was to be an interactive point and click environment without a clear goal. You'd just find these things scattered about a disused mansion where it's obvious a doctor lived. As you make your way through the house you'll find scraps, hear (barely audible to the point that you're not sure it's coming from the game) screams and moans along with people sobbing, full on crying and begging for death and eventually unlock new secret torture/operating rooms.

At this point creepypastas have become a thing and my lack of motivation has derailed that and myriad other ideas. Still, I like imagining what they would write if I ever dropped a pen.

I'm not sure what the hell is this post even about... but that's one really fucked up link you put there Fluffy. :l

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Post Re: A Cat Diary
fluffy wrote:
I remember this thing. I wanted to do something with the many captives of a senile mad scientist a la Horihone Saizou's Drainage City Vol. 1 Ch. 7 "A Flesh Artist" where the captives would leave messages and notes to prove they existed as they slowly become less human through psychological and physical torture best left to the imagination (although too often not) and the day-to-day trials of the long term "patients" as Stockholm syndrome sets in.

It's like somebody combined everything wrong with Mai-chan's Daily Life, Dexter, V for Vendetta and the Saw movie series into a collection of bits of drywall and cardboard. The entire thing was to be an interactive point and click environment without a clear goal. You'd just find these things scattered about a disused mansion where it's obvious a doctor lived. As you make your way through the house you'll find scraps, hear (barely audible to the point that you're not sure it's coming from the game) screams and moans along with people sobbing, full on crying and begging for death and eventually unlock new secret torture/operating rooms.

At this point creepypastas have become a thing and my lack of motivation has derailed that and myriad other ideas. Still, I like imagining what they would write if I ever dropped a pen.


Pretty good link, but the story gets hard to follow.

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Thu Nov 14, 2013 5:48 pm
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Post Re: A Cat Diary
Curses! Actual dialogue with forethought! One of many and varied weaknesses!

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Fri Nov 15, 2013 7:46 am
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Post Re: A Cat Diary
Resilence wrote:
fluffy wrote:
I remember this thing. I wanted to do something with the many captives of a senile mad scientist a la Horihone Saizou's Drainage City Vol. 1 Ch. 7 "A Flesh Artist" where the captives would leave messages and notes to prove they existed as they slowly become less human through psychological and physical torture best left to the imagination (although too often not) and the day-to-day trials of the long term "patients" as Stockholm syndrome sets in.

It's like somebody combined everything wrong with Mai-chan's Daily Life, Dexter, V for Vendetta and the Saw movie series into a collection of bits of drywall and cardboard. The entire thing was to be an interactive point and click environment without a clear goal. You'd just find these things scattered about a disused mansion where it's obvious a doctor lived. As you make your way through the house you'll find scraps, hear (barely audible to the point that you're not sure it's coming from the game) screams and moans along with people sobbing, full on crying and begging for death and eventually unlock new secret torture/operating rooms.

At this point creepypastas have become a thing and my lack of motivation has derailed that and myriad other ideas. Still, I like imagining what they would write if I ever dropped a pen.

I'm not sure what the hell is this post even about... but that's one really fucked up link you put there Fluffy. :l

If it helps, I don't really know what that post was about. Looks like something I would do. I do have to say that's one of the more tame things I could have shot at you. It's known far and wide, the depths of my depravity. I'll warn you now: I am not safe for work.

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In just under one-thousand eight-bit bytes I have to confer some glorious shrine to myself by means of text, images, hyper links, embeded flash compositions and possibly formatting. I could abuse this easily. Ten hour clips on youtube embeded in a single vertical stack. Multi-megapixel long transparent GIFs causing scrollbar hell. Nuero-linguistic programs that fuck your mind like a fresh squid. Eye raping color schemes using ascii full-width blocks. Images or links to images of things that can not be unseen. Anything called "epilepsy" dot SWF. This is what I want to do. I am not a good person. I just know that would be a flagrant display of disrespect. I'll wait until I can get away with it.
NOW IN GLORIOUS TODD A.O.!
fluffco™ LLC takes no responsibility for anything, ever, at all, under any circumstances and is entirely fictional outside Colorado.


Fri Nov 15, 2013 10:13 pm
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Post Re: A Cat Diary
fluffy wrote:
I remember this thing. I wanted to do something with the many captives of a senile mad scientist a la Horihone Saizou's Drainage City Vol. 1 Ch. 7 "A Flesh Artist" where the captives would leave messages and notes to prove they existed as they slowly become less human through psychological and physical torture best left to the imagination (although too often not) and the day-to-day trials of the long term "patients" as Stockholm syndrome sets in.

It's like somebody combined everything wrong with Mai-chan's Daily Life, Dexter, V for Vendetta and the Saw movie series into a collection of bits of drywall and cardboard. The entire thing was to be an interactive point and click environment without a clear goal. You'd just find these things scattered about a disused mansion where it's obvious a doctor lived. As you make your way through the house you'll find scraps, hear (barely audible to the point that you're not sure it's coming from the game) screams and moans along with people sobbing, full on crying and begging for death and eventually unlock new secret torture/operating rooms.

At this point creepypastas have become a thing and my lack of motivation has derailed that and myriad other ideas. Still, I like imagining what they would write if I ever dropped a pen.

Do this please.
I also looked forever to find this link, so I'm quite proud I stumbled upon it in my unfocused and tired state.

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Post Re: A Cat Diary
And so it is. Forkheads presents "a cat diary": the desolate city of Ordos. This isn't after some horrible apocalypse, it's not a dystopian future, everybody is alive and well: they're all simply at work.

A child or two will wander past; either too young for school or a delinquent that just doesn't want to be forced off to some horrible place. The police wander around like they're lost; not really investigating anything or aware of anything that's happening. Today is Tuesday and there's nothing special about today. You're off from work because you knew you were going to be let off and a fortune cookie told you to try and see new things.

The bleakness of being laid off tints your perception and the colorful world before you seems gray and brown as you walk around town. You decide to be productive and get some laundry done. At the laundry mat the housewives aren't gossiping or looking around judgmentally; they seem engrossed with the spinning of the machines. As you pay too much for a small box of powdered detergent you intend to make work for more loads than anybody intended a small slip of paper catches your attention.

Perhaps because you're a lonely young man that's not quite comfortable with himself as you imagine others to be or perhaps because it's not something to which you've numbed yourself; you look away quickly and covertly observe your surroundings. Nobody has given you enough attention to remember you walked in so you steady yourself and look back over at the small scrap of paper that caught your eye.

Sitting on top of a pile of empty boxes, seemingly clean, the tag tells you that this delicate item is hand-wash only and a faded name and address are lightly faded telling you about the previous owner of this pair of lacy panties. You jam them into your pocket like you're stealing a packet of cigarettes as a child; a few of the housewives look over, roll their eyes and resume staring down the machines.

After you finish the laundry that you didn't need to do now that you're flat broke you head home completely unable to forget that in your pocket are the used panties belonging to… someone whose name you only wish you could make out better. The almost nonexistent lace panties feel like lead in your pocket, you're sure everybody you see is staring at your pocket bulging in some grotesque manner to indicate you're a panty thief; as if trying to escape they call out loudly to passersby: "This man is a pervert and needs to be arrested and put in jail!"

You make it home just fine since nobody even noticed you exist. After you realize that you're simply not important enough to stare at you pull out the now obviously ruined panties and examine them. They have large rips all over the place, are missing some of the lace trim and a hip strap has broke. These were thrown away for a reason. You look them over and notice some discoloration on the thin pad meant to catch light moisture without taking away the attraction of this kind of provocative undergarment.

"Well used" you think and you decide to imagine the woman that gave these a good run; perhaps she's sad about losing such a nice pair of panties to carelessness. You see the size on the tag which tells you nothing—you're no expert on women's sizing—but you notice the address; unless you're mistaken this is a street down from you. The size is about right for a woman about your age, too. Maybe not the best way to meet somebody but you decide that you need a little pick me up and maybe seeing an attractive young woman will be enough to get you through the day.

As you walk down the street with the panties in your pocket you seem to notice cops from a mile away. They never seem to be around until you're doing something wrong. You walk past the apartments that appear on the tag and look them over as nonchalantly as you can while on your way to a local convenience store you're using as an excuse to be out.

You like this store because the clerk isn't half bad looking and treats you nicely. Maybe it's her job but it does wonders for your ego to think she treats you a little nicer then everybody else. She works today, too; you think this and realize that a small part of you might be a little creepier than is socially acceptable and resolve to throw the panties out when you get home.

You enter the store and greet the old man that normally works on the weekends. He seems put off, there's a sign in the window announcing that there's a position available. After you ask, he informs you that he's not heard from the young lady that he hired to give him some time to be old; everybody deserves a break at some point. He doesn't think anything of calling her by her family name when up until now you've only known her given name.

You walk past the apartments on your way back and you decide that you don't want to be a creep any longer so you walk into the building to quietly throw the panties in the trash where they belong. You take a look around and pull them out of your pocket and look them over one last time. How nice it will be when you don't have to be embarrassed about holding a woman's panties. You look at the address and name one last time and it clicks in your head.

The name, the address, how close this is to the store. Before you can kick yourself for not noticing sooner you hear the elevator door chime and begin to open. You jam the panties back in your pocket and begin to look like you're lost, trying to play off being there as looking for a place to live.

You're approached by a woman holding a laundry basket who asks you if you're looking for the leasing office and you get directions with a little extra advice on living here: the laundry machines here are cheaper than the laundry mat down the street. She leaves you to finish her own laundry as you formulate things in your mind.

She wouldn't do laundry down the street and pay more; she wouldn't leave her job without notice; she wouldn't write her address on her panties. Something is wrong here. You look at the address again and head towards the elevator. You arrive at the door and hesitate before a sound startles you into action and you instinctively open the door and go inside. You think to yourself that nobody in this neighborhood would leave their door unlocked and look around.

The tidiness of portions is matched only by the clutter of others. Things don't make sense. Papers and dishes in exacting stacks, the very picture of perfection; clothes and make up strewn about in small piles without anything pretending to be neat. This is the pattern of a robbery but the target was clothes and make up. You notice that there's not a single item of underwear and it hits you; she's been taken.

You don't notice if anything's missing from the make up but you decide to take pictures with your cellphone to put it together later. You give the place a good once-over and leave as quickly and quietly as you can. You have a kidnapping to solve.

———

The game would be a few minutes up to this point, mostly on rails. The player character will talk to himself to get the points across and the navigation will be very rigid, no wrong ways possible. Time won't elapse until now and you'll have things that need to be done by specific times. Attempts to involve the police will stop at the self-talk "explain this to a cop? Yeah, right!"

The game will be driven by tiny bits of evidence in the photos on your phone and using things like Google's search by image to figure things out. Knowledge based challenges can play into the game such as noticing that the eyeliner had been taken; if you click on the makeup there will be a question you can ask yourself "what's missing?" and after some clicking you'll answer "eyeliner" and that will give you a time bonus to certain things.

The girl will die at a predetermined time in the game but you can save her if you meet certain challenges. At that point she'll offer the "good end" and you can "win"… or if you've unlocked certain options you can tell her that she wasn't the only one and you can continue to get other endings. In one variant she'll join you and offer insight that you wouldn't get otherwise and you can get a "better end" or even a "best end" but also endings worse then the "bad end" of finding her dead.

You'll wander around a nearly empty town, the challenges will be finding what you need to continue and there will be a lot of porn everywhere; some as rewards, some as clues, some as what might be called "evidence." Trivia will be presented in the manner of "I found this but what does it mean?" and your answers will determine what you look for and how long it takes you to do the next objective; if you guess incorrectly it could take longer to realize what it was you were even looking for and you'll exclaim "shit! I should have been looking for this the whole time."

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In just under one-thousand eight-bit bytes I have to confer some glorious shrine to myself by means of text, images, hyper links, embeded flash compositions and possibly formatting. I could abuse this easily. Ten hour clips on youtube embeded in a single vertical stack. Multi-megapixel long transparent GIFs causing scrollbar hell. Nuero-linguistic programs that fuck your mind like a fresh squid. Eye raping color schemes using ascii full-width blocks. Images or links to images of things that can not be unseen. Anything called "epilepsy" dot SWF. This is what I want to do. I am not a good person. I just know that would be a flagrant display of disrespect. I'll wait until I can get away with it.
NOW IN GLORIOUS TODD A.O.!
fluffco™ LLC takes no responsibility for anything, ever, at all, under any circumstances and is entirely fictional outside Colorado.


Tue Feb 18, 2014 3:33 am
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Post Re: A Cat Diary

I fapped to this a while ago.

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Tue Dec 09, 2014 3:14 pm
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