Philateloids v2

$location[Late Night: Least-Cool Corner of the Trendiest Bar] Some guy whose name I can never remember is regaling the club with how he lost his hand. "I could tell," he's saying, "that the boat was only seconds from tipping over the cliff. But then I saw it: a mailbag." I stifle a yawn. Maybe once I was dedicated to $extreme[EXTREME STAMP COLLECTING] - I mean we all risk our lives for it. But now... Now I'm losing my interest. [[Enter Alex<-But then]]...

Heavy boots and heavier makeup; nerdy fishnets and a slutty waistcoat - and that smug, superior expression. When Alex left the $extreme[EXTREME STAMP COLLECTING] club without a word, it left a throbbing, empty hole in my life. It wasn't just that I'd never get to finally prove how much better I was at $extreme[EXTREME STAMP COLLECTING]. The way they disappeared, I wondered if it even meant anything to them? Was I really that insignificant? That pathetic? Even now they're back, Alex doesn't even acknowledge me. Just slaps a [[stamp->Impossible Stamp]] down on the table.

I roll a natural 1 against my **discretion** check and end up [[checking out Alex anyway->Check Alex]].

But then $wow[Alex] struts back into my life. "What's up, losers?" they say. Everyone groans. "I thought we banned you," someone says. Someone else adds, "Fuck off already." Belatedly, I think to groan too. [[Check out Alex->Check Alex]] (t8n-arrive: "shudder")[[Try not to check out Alex->Discretion Failure]]

"It's a fake," someone says. "A.I. garbage," says someone else. I lean over and look at a stamp where the Queen is some kind of lizard woman. I look up. Alex is looking right into my eyes and it's like [[a kick to the head]].

Alex's voice is as soft and low and supercilious as ever. "From a universe where the dinosaurs never died out." The club erupts in laughter and insults and Alex does not break eye contact with me for a second. What is this? "Some of us have moved on from $disdain[extreme stamp collecting]. Where it's //really// at these days is $impossible[IMPOSSIBLE STAMP COLLECTING]. But I doubt anyone here has what it takes." Finally, they break eye contact with me, and, with a toss of their dayglo hair, strut back out of the bar. [[Go after them]] [[Leave the bar for a totally unrelated reason, maybe you left the oven on, I don't know]]

I barge out of the bar and onto the street. Alex hasn't got far, like they don't have a care in the world. "[[Hey]]," I say.

Nobody in the $disdain[extreme stamp collecting] club buys it for a second. "Like they've got you on a fucking leash," someone says. On my way back to turn off my fridge or whatever, I totally accidentally bump into Alex. "Oh," I say, "[[Hey<-hey]]."

Alex sees me and ever-so-slightly mispronounces my name. "I didn't notice you earlier, I assumed you gave up on $disdain[extreme stamp collecting]. I hope I didn't put you off it at all. It's important not to compare yourself to others." I consider carefully what to say: [[Morning After<-"Seems like you want me to put you in your place again."]] [[Morning After<-"I'm going to collect so many IMPOSSIBLE STAMPS that you'll cry."]] [[Morning After<-"When I'm done, they'll call it POSSIBLE STAMP COLLECTING."]] [[Morning After<-"Fuck you, Alex."]]

{ (display: "initial setup") }$location[Next Morning: My Crappy Flat] Alex sits on the edge of my threadbare couch, eyeliner reapplied, lacing their boots. "I already know where to find my next $impossible[IMPOSSIBLE STAMP]," they say. "I'll catch you after and we can compare albums..." I try to look as imposing as I can when I'm bleary-eyed and wrapped in a quilt. Speaking of the impossible, I don't know how they managed to get up this early. "Remember," Alex says, "it's not a competition. I'm not trying to make you feel bad." A smile like a tiger or a shark, and then they're out the door and gone. [[Hub<-Time to consider my options.]]

Where's the best place for me to find an $impossible[IMPOSSIBLE STAMP]? [[Time Dilate<-Time dilate into the far future]] [[Astral Projection<-Astral project into a higher plane of existence]] [[Gajillionaire<-Infiltrate the mega-yacht of that gajillionaire]] [[Fourth Dimension<-Just walk off into the fourth dimension]]

So there's two ways to dilate time, as I understand it: [[Go near an extremely massive object.]] [[Travel extremely fast.]]

I start by jumping up and down. Then I move at a ninety degree angle to that, back and forth. And then I move at a ninety degree angle to both of those directions, going left and right. Finally, it's a simple case of walking in the direction at ninety degrees to all of those. Easy. [[Walk into the fourth dimension.]]

I meditate and project out of my body. I can now move anywhere and touch the incorporeal. [[What's stopping you falling through the floor?]] [[What's stopping you plummeting into the sky?]]

$location[Later: Mega-Yacht] If anyone has an $impossible[IMPOSSIBLE STAMP] it'll be that gajillionaire who has all the world's money. And if he has it anywhere, it'll be on his mega-yacht - the one they had to deepen all the rivers and seas so it would fit. Infiltrating as one his staff should be well within the skills I cultivated through $disdain[extreme stamp collecting]. [[Cleaning Uniform<-Wear a normal cleaning company uniform]] [[Sexy Costume<-Wear the sexy maid costume]]

Obviously the actual uniform of the cleaning company I'm infiltrating is the right answer. It speaks to some deep flaw that I even thought of wearing that other thing. I'm mopping the deck when Alex pushes past me in a sexy maid costume, clinging to the gajillionaire's arm and giggling. They prance into his private cabin while I'm left standing out here with a fucking mop. [[Break in using the mop as a deadly weapon]] [[Sneak in through the air vents]]

Lacy and short, no gajillionaire could turn a blind eye to me in this, even if it is a bit cold to be wearing on the high seas. "Spillage!" someone calls out from the private cabin. "It's that expensive drink with the gold flakes in it! We need a //professional// cleaner!" Alex shoves past me in a normal cleaning company uniform. "On it!" they say. I try to join them, but my supervisor stops me with a single withering appraisal of my getup. Alex glances back at me with a patronising shake of their head and quirk of their lips. [[Sneak in anyway through the porthole]] [[Kill your supervisor and dump their body overboard]]

I clamber around the outside of the ship, battered by wind and sea foam. I bet I wouldn't be half so freezing cold in a proper cleaning uniform! And squeezing through the porthole my lacy straps and pleated skirt get caught on the frame. "[[Gajillionaire 2<-I'm so stupid]]."

It's not the first time I've killed someone for a stamp, and it won't be the last. It is the first time I've had to move a body in a sexy maid costume though, which is undignified both for myself and the deceased. "[[Gajillionaire 2<-I'm so stupid]]."

Breathing. Control. These are the fundamental principles of martial arts, and also of $disdain[extreme stamp collecting]. The mercenaries the gajillionaire hired to protect him don't stand a chance, even if they get a few hits in. I bet if I'd worn the sexy maid costume they'd have been too distracted to fight back. "[[Gajillionaire 1<-I'm so stupid]]."

Mega-yacht means mega-vents. But I bet it would still be easier to get into there in a skimpy maid costume rather than this bulky uniform. "[[Gajillionaire 1<-I'm so stupid]]."

In the gajillionaire's private cabin, Alex is straddling him on the bed, smothering him with a pillow. His feet twitch as the life leaves his body. I only have a few seconds to try and find the $impossible[IMPOSSIBLE STAMP]. [[Gajsafe<-Crack his safe]] [[Gajpainting<-Look behind the painting]] [[Gajbed<-Look under his bed]]

In the gajillionaire's private cabin, Alex is busy strangling him with a vacuum cleaner hose. His feet twitch as the life leaves his body. I only have a few seconds to try and find the $impossible[IMPOSSIBLE STAMP]. [[Gajsafe<-Crack his safe]] [[Gajpainting<-Look behind the painting]] [[Gajbed<-Look under his bed]]

It's a painting of the gajillionaire high-fiving the hero of a popular videogame franchise, even though said hero would execute any gajillionaire in a heartbeat. The only thing behind it is an unpaid invoice to the artist who painted it. (set: $GajPaintingLook to true) (display: "GajSearch")

Nothing under the gajillionaire's bed except a shoebox full of labelled jars of his ex-wives' toenail clippings. I shove it back under there as quickly as possible. (set: $GajBedLook to true) (display: "GajSearch")

Trivial for any expert $disdain[extreme stamp collector], especially when the combination has been left as the default. But there's nothing in here except evidence of breathtaking financial crimes. (set: $GajSafeLook to true) (display: "GajSearch")

(if: not$GajSafeLook)[[Gajsafe<-Crack his safe]] (if: not$GajPaintingLook)[[Gajpainting<-Look behind the painting]] (if: not$GajBedLook)[[Gajbed<-Look under his bed]] (if: $GajSafeLook and $GajPaintingLook and $GajBedLook)[[Search the gajillionaire's pockets]]

"Do you mind?!" Alex says as I start rummaging through the gajillionaire's pockets while they murder him. But I keep digging and turn up a $impossible[ZEROTH CLASS STAMP THAT COSTS INFINITE MONEY]. This is it! I've done it! Alex's hiss of frustration fills me with such ecstasy that I don't notice the gajillionaire pull out the detonator marked "PHARAOH PROTOCOL" and blow up his entire mega-yacht along with everyone onboard. I am [[DEAD]].

$location[Seconds later: the River Styx?] I'm on a boat. Or something I perceive as a boat, anyway. The ferryman- Ferryperson? Ferrycreature? Looks back at me with questioning eyes. I find myself considering my life so far. [[Heaven<-You've done okay, I guess.]] [[Hell<-Actually, you're kind of bad.]] [[Valhalla<-You are a stamp collecting warrior.]]

$location[Unknown Time: Heaven] I can tell this is heaven because of all the fluffy clouds and naked people playing harps. Every so often an angel darts past with a mailbag. Hmm. [[Steal a stamp from an angel]] [[Kill and become god, then make a new stamp]]

$location[Unknown Time: Hell] I am in a featureless red room. A little imp has an $impossible[IMPOSSIBLE STAMP] right there in its grubby mitts, but whenever I grab for it, it dodges just out of reach! (t8n-arrive: "zoom")[[Keep trying to grab the stamp.]]

$location[Unknown Time: Valhalla] I'm surrounded by muscular people wailing on one another. It's like the $disdain[extreme stamp collecting] club on a bad night. A burly shield maiden accosts me. "You look pretty weedy for a warrior. Tell me of your glorious victories." "I'm a [[drone operator]]." "Actually, [[Shield Maiden<-I collect stamps]]."

A winged person with an incredible body, but also kind of an eldritch monstrosity with a million judgemental eyes. A few thousand eyes notice me sneaking up on the mailbag. "Um, okay," the angel says, "time was we would have smote someone like you already." [[Angel Letter<-"I think you have a letter for me in there."]] [[Good Place<-"Someone 'like me'? And this is supposed to be 'the good place'?"]] [[Attack Angel<-ATTACK!]]

I charge at God, ready to tear them apart with my bare hands. "Okay," God says as I approach. "You're here to try and kill an omnipotent, omniscient, immortal being, have I got that right?" "[[I may not have thought this through.]]" "[[GET WRECKED, GOD!]]"

My fists bounce off the angel uselessly. "Okay," the angel says. "I think I get to smite you now." I am now [[DOUBLE DEAD]].

"We get to make the rules," the angel says. "And we get to decide who to smite. On which note, (text-style: "blink")[LIGHTNING BOLT ATTACK]." I am now [[DOUBLE DEAD]].

"Oh, sure," the angel says. "Just reach in there and get it." I shove my hand into the mailbag and start rummaging around. "I mean," the angel adds, "it's not like the Big Guy will let you steal someone else's." As my hand closes around an envelope, I just manage to see the incoming lightning bolt... I am now [[DOUBLE DEAD]].

$location[Unknown Time: Meta-Afterlife] A formless, shapeless void outside existence and beyond all physical laws. I am bombarded with staggering vistas of nonsensical places and the deafening roar of non-existence. After everything, I guess I've ended up somewhere pretty boring. (set: $distance to 0) (t8n-arrive: "slide-left")[[Explore]]

(set: $distance to $distance + 1) { (if: $distance is 1)[I follow the burning cosmic river of the unreal.] (if: $distance is 2)[I jump from cloud to cloud.] (if: $distance is 3)[I traverse a deep chasm of nothingness. Can you hear that screaming sound?] (if: $distance is 4)[I am clambering across a sloping plain when Alex falls out of the jagged sky above and lands on me.] } { (if: $distance is 1)+(t8n-arrive: "slide-up")[[Explore]] (if: $distance is 2)+(t8n-arrive: "slide-right")[[Explore]] (if: $distance is 3)+(t8n-arrive: "slide-down")[[Explore]] (if: $distance is 4)+(t8n-arrive: "zoom")[[Stand Up]] }

Alex dusts themself down. "Oh, hey. I guess if I was going to find out that someone had //unintentionally// made themselves DOUBLE DEAD, I'd expect it to be you. Try not to feel too bad about it. Now, I'm going to find a stamp!" (set: $metaargued to false) (display: "Alex Explore")

(t8n-arrive: (either: "slide-right", "slide-up", "slide-down", "slide-left"))[[Explore 2<-Explore]] [[KILL ALEX]] (if: not $metaargued)[[Meta Argue<-"Who, exactly, do you think is mailing one another in this wasteland?"]]

(either: "We wade through slimy tar-like nothingness.", "We fight off shadowy spectres that dissipate at our touch.", "We tip-toe across a trypophobic nightmare of porous surfaces.", "We slide down a steep, featureless slope.", "We climb up a steep, featureless slope.", "We are lost in pitch darkness.", "We climb through the dazzling forest of a frozen lightning storm.", "We are swept, almost drowning, through an endless ocean of immaterial fluid.", "We navigate spiralling, claustrophobic tunnels.") { (set: $alexbark to (random: 1, 6)) (if: $alexbark is 1)[Alex says, "Almost there, I think."] (if: $alexbark is 6)[Alex says, "Thought I saw a mailbag just then..."] } (display: "Alex Explore")

(set: $metaargued to true) Alex looks at me like I'm stupid. "This is the realm of absolute impossibility. By definition, all stamps here will be $impossible[IMPOSSIBLE]." "Right, but who's //using them//?" "You'll see," Alex says smugly, which I'm pretty sure means no-one. (display: "Alex Explore")

I conjure a no-blade out of the nothingness and charge Alex, screaming my best warcry. But they dodge to one side, and I succeed only in slicing open their waistcoat and exposing one shoulder alluringly. "So it's like that is it? //En garde//, then." [[KILL ALEX 2<-KILL ALEX]]

I charge again, swinging my no-blade, but Alex has conjured a void sword and artfully parries my attack. I dodge their counterattack such that it only slices my clothes, leaving both my legs bare. "I'll make it quick," they promise me. "Maybe even painless." [[KILL ALEX 3<-KILL ALEX]]

Our blades clash and I briefly gain the upper hand, but Alex twirls away from my slash, so I only succeed in slicing their clothes away from their midriff. Alex breathes heavily. "Don't you dare hold back." Look, I know what this looks like, okay? [[KILL ALEX 4<-KILL ALEX]]

We attack one another again and again. Alex slashes the back of my outfit so that it falls almost completely away. I thrust my no-blade at their head, but just cut their hair loose so that it spills down to their shoulders in slow motion like in a shampoo commercial. We pause. Out of breath. Hearts racing. "You," Alex manages to gasp, "might have some... fight in you... after all." Okay, fuck it. ^^[[kiss alex]]^^

Swords crossed, I lean forward, lips parted. "Really?" Alex says. "Enemies-to-lovers? No originality at all?" "Keep talking," I say, "if you want me to stop." For maybe the first time in their entire life, Alex is silent. [[💖<-~ ~💖~ ~]]

We both finish quickly, a little anticlimactically (no pun intended), keep fumbling a while longer, and then collapse exhausted into a tangled embrace. We're quiet like that for a long time. Until the nothingness around us begins to rumble and coalesce into an Escheresque nightmare of unflesh and never-bone. Alex leaps to their feet. "Finally! The ur-impulse at the heart of the multiverse! We can kill it and get whatever we want!" I jump to their side. "Okay, sure, whatever." [[Kill the ur-impulse at the heart of the multiverse. I'm sure that won't do anything bad.]]

We tear into it with our unreal weapons, spilling unguts that don't exist and when its blood sprays into airless space it is a rain of adhesive stamps that stick to us and coat us from head to toe. Don't worry. It can't be killed and it's already dead. We have destroyed it and it will live forever. We laugh maniacally and cling together and spin into the space between no-space, dissolving and percolating through the universes until we are home. It is never [[the end]].

Back in my universe, my body, my own dreams. [[Morning After<-Wake up.]]

Her face twists into a disgusted expression. "What? I don't understand... Prove yourself, warrior!" Before I can say anything, she has crushed me beneath her shield. I am now [[DOUBLE DEAD]].

She looks slightly doubtful. "So, like Cowardly Cynric who would only fight by throwing stones from a distance? You will not last long here." I make my excuses and leave, not getting far before I bump into a lantern jawed G.I. in a vintage army uniform. "Hey buddy," he says, "sure you're meant to be here?" "The CIA trained me to [[kill people with my mind]]." "Actually, [[GI<-I collect stamps]]."

"Oh, a poindexter, eh? Well you know how we treat those back home?" I hope it's nicely, but I'm not sure. "Not really, no." The uppercut he hits me with is so powerful that I am now [[DOUBLE DEAD]].

The G.I. swallows. "Okay, easy there, I'm just passing through." I manage to dodge encountering anyone else for a while until suddenly my path is blocked by an astral legionnaire from the Crystal Wars. I guess at this point it's been like a thousand years or something. "Halt, odd soul," they say. "What battle enhail you from?" "I've killed thousands. Maybe more. I'm a [[health insurance CEO]]." "Actually, [[astral legionairre<-I collect stamps]]."

The astral legionnaire gasps and takes a step back. "From what era?!" "About a thousand years ago or something?" I guess. But I'm wrong. It's been six thousand years. Assuming that I'm one of the Venusian Philatelists who destroyed the Earth and every innocent human and cute kitten upon it, the astral legionnaire obliterates me utterly with their mind. I am now [[DOUBLE DEAD]].

The astral legionnaire nods sagely, and then obliterates me utterly with their mind. I am now [[DOUBLE DEAD]].

"No," God says, "I don't think you have." I am struck from above by lightning, multiple times. I am now [[DOUBLE DEAD]].

God's little finger descends upon me from above, squishing me like a microscopic bug. "Who do you think you are," they say, "Alex?" That stings. I am now [[DOUBLE DEAD]].

$location[The Fourth Dimension] From here, outside the usual three dimensions, I can of course see inside everything and everyone. Gross organs, inside living rooms, the works. [[Please respect Alex's privacy.]] [[Violate Alex's privacy completely.]]

Okay, sure, looking in the opposite direction to Alex's house. Violating the privacy of literally everyone except Alex. Very moral, thanks. [[Keep walking into the fourth dimension.]]

Whoa, okay, they are at home and that is //not// an activity they should be using an improvised object for. If that gets stuck that's a trip to Accident and Emergency. [[Keep walking into the fourth dimension.]]

I am now leaving our universe and crossing over into another... Okay, this seems to be one where people are getting sorted into various categories. I mean, not the way we do it in our universe, like much more on-the-nose. [[Sure, step into the dystopian universe.]] [[Just keep going into the fourth dimension.]]

$location[Dystopia Zone 5] No sooner have I entered the new universe, a hovering drone is shining a laser at my forehead. "ERROR! No lifestamp detected! State your lifestamp colour immediately!" Guess we're on the honour system here. I look around at the harried, bald-headed serfs around me and pick a colour. "[[Red]]." "[[Blue]]."

Okay, let's see what we can find. One of those generic alternate universes with the airships. One where Fiji won World War Two. One where you poke people in the eye instead of shaking hands. Oh, here's an interesting one: a universe where I'm the Supreme Ruler of Earth. [[Sure, check it out, you need a little win at this point.]] [[NO. Just keep going into the fourth dimension.]]

(set: $lifestamp to "red") (display: "dystopia 1")

(set: $lifestamp to "blue") (display: "dystopia 1")

The drone begins zapping something into my forehead. "Your lifestamp has been reapplied, Shunned One. If you are found in this state again you will be immediately //renewed//." Shunned One. Great. I head in the opposite direction from the drone, pressing into the crush of downcast cityfolk. I've only made it a few steps when I bump into a [[familiar figure]].

"Oh wow," Alex says. "A $lifestamp lifestamp? Bold choice. I commend you." They gesture to their own $impossible[(if: $lifestamp is "red")[BLUE](if: $lifestamp is "blue")[RED] LIFESTAMP]. "I decided to go for the rarer, more privileged colour. Thinking as a collector, of course." "[[dystopia 2<-Well my information says $lifestamp is rarer.]]" "[[dystopia 2<-Actually, I'm about to get it changed.]]"

Before Alex can respond, the drone has reappeared. "Danger! Danger! Cross-category contamination in progress! Step apart immediately!" Alex and I look from one another to the drone. So... it's //forbidden// for us to...? [[Hold their hand surreptitiously]] [[Oh, just fucking pounce on one another]]

Of course, just a little touch of our little fingers. "Alert! Alert! Cross-contamination detected!" screams the drone. Alex stands a little closer. I wrap my fingers tentatively around their hand. My heart is beating so fast I think it might explode. [[Now intertwine your fingers.]] [[Oh, just fucking pounce on one another]]

We haven't even got our underwear off when the Tactical Decontamination Squad arrives. "Avert your eyes, men!" screams the sergeant. "Avoid self-contamination at all costs! Just keep hitting!" The baton connects with my skull with lethal force. I am now [[DEAD]].

$location[Perfect Earth] This is more like it. All the architecture here is just //chef's kiss//, exactly how it should be. Lots of statues of me, very flattering. Posters too, only from my good side. And every dishevelled, furtive person I meet recoils from me in fear. [[Look for a stamp, I guess.]]

Fine, fine, let's keep going. Uh... Okay, actually, I think I may have gone too far and kind of fallen off the edge. I tumble and struggle uselessly and... oh. Alex is here, falling gracefully like an Olympic diver. "Surprising," they say. "I didn't expect you to skip over the fourth dimension and go straight to the fifth one. Guess I underestimated you." [[Ask Alex for help.]] [[Help yourself.]]

I break into a postbox and... oh man, it has my face on it. This is perfect. I'm so pleased I don't even see the van full of masked goons that pulls up and [[abducts me]].

When I come to, I'm chained up in some kind of super villain lair. Standing over me, wearing the //coolest// cape with the //highest// collar is Supreme Ruler Me. "Explain yourself," they say, "imposter!" [[Explain yourself (to yourself)]] [[Kiss yourself]] [[Kill yourself]]

"Look," I say, "I'm just here to collect a stamp, and then I'll be out of your cape. I mean hair." Supreme Ruler Me looks at me with undisguised disgust. "Stamp collecting? But how did you conquer your world with such a pathetic hobby?" "Well," I say, "the thing is, you see-" Suddenly, [[the doors are thrown open]]...

I lean forward, pouting. There's nothing wrong with this, by the way. Everyone does it. If Alex says they don't, it's a lie. Supreme Ruler Me takes a step back, leaving me to struggle uselessly against the chains. "What... are you doing?" "Just, come here," I say. "No," Supreme Ruler Me says. "Don't be gross." The awkward moment stretches until [[the doors are thrown open]]...

I struggle against my chains, but they seem to be made of something really strong, like metal, instead of something I could actually break. "You wish to kill me and replace me," Supreme Ruler Me says. "But who sent you? Who's the power behind you?" "I sent myself," I retort. "There's no supremer power than me!" But then, [[the doors are thrown open]]...

And in struts Alex, wearing an //even cooler// cape with an //even higher// collar. "[[Supremer 1<-No]]."

"What is going on?" Alex says. "I don't remember authorising this." Supreme Ruler Me gets down on their knees. "Supremer Ruler Alex," they say, "forgive me." "[[Supremer 2<-NO]]."

Supremer Ruler Alex sneers. "I didn't install you as my puppet leader to have you taking risks like this. And forgiveness is //earned//." Supreme Ruler Me crawls over to Supremer Ruler Alex and begins kissing and licking their //coolest-I-have-ever-seen// boots. "[[supremer 3<-NOOOOOOOOOOOOO]]!"

There's an explosion. The skylight shatters and Alex - //my// Alex abseils in, firing a submachinegun from the hip. Sure, whatever. As they unchain me, I just let it happen. "It's okay," Alex says, "I've got the $impossible[SECRET STAMP WITH MY FACE ON IT], we can get out of here. Thanks for the distraction." Supremer Ruler Alex is shouting orders to their stormtroopers while Supreme Ruler Me cowers behind their cape. "[[Just get me out of here]]." "[[You are never allowed to talk of this]]."

Escaping from Supreme Ruler Me's (okay, Supremer Ruler Alex's) volcano lair, it is completely understandable to get lost and fall into the shark tank, and not my fault at all, whatever Alex says. "I'll lift you up," Alex yells, as the sharks circle. "At least one of us can escape." "[[I'll lift you up, and YOU can escape.]]" "[[How about I lift you up, and you can pull me up after.]]"

Alex laughs as if they're embarrassed. "As if I'd want to remember a version of myself debased to the point of allowing //you// to kiss their boots." "[[Just get me out of here]]." "[[Wow, okay, I think that was some grade-A boot kissing actually]]."

Alex gives me an expression that says "Really? You thought //that// was impressive? //Your// boot-kissing must be the worst in any universe." But just an expression that says that, not the actual words, since Supremer Ruler Alex's stormtroopers are now shooting at us. "[[Just get me out of here]]."

"Look," Alex says, pausing to spit out some shark tank water, "you've got to accept that only one of us is cut out for a heroic sacrifice." "Yes," I say, "and it's me, start climbing on me." "We have just seen with our own eyes what the pecking order is." "In //this// universe sure. And you know what-" But I don't get to finish my unbeatable argument because one of the sharks pulls me under. After a bloody and painful struggle, I am [[DEAD]].

"That won't work," Alex says, grabbing me and trying to shove me up. I kick away from them into the water. "Why not?" "It's obvious and I don't have time to spell it out for you!" "You can't spell it out for anyone because it's not-" One of the sharks bites me in half and I am [[DEAD]].

Okay, I can do this. Fifth dimension, just at right angles to the other four. Move that way and... Right, I have turned myself inside-out. Immediately, I implode and am [[DEAD]].

"Fine," Alex sighs, "come here. No not like that, shit..." Three-dimensional creatures in a five-dimensional space, I have accidentally entangled our guts and nerves. Every motion to try and separate us just entangles things more, merging us into a big blob of knotted innards. "Don't act like you don't like this," Alex says. The final moan of pleasure we make when we splatter against the side of the multiverse comes from an almost-throat that we both share. Whether or not I liked it, I am now [[DEAD]].

Okay, I am now at your mum's house. Ringing the doorbell... [[LEAVE IMMEDIATELY.]] [[Okay, sure.]]

$location[Earth's Most Advanced Spaceship] With my qualifications as an $disdain[extreme stamp collector] it's trivial to get a place on the space program. Payload specialist for an ant farm or some shit, but who cares. The countdown has begun and I'm strapped into the rocket when the captain slides into their seat. "Hey," Alex says. "Didn't expect to see you here." "[[Aye aye, captain]]." "[[EJECT! EJECT!]]"

Plan B then. [[Travel extremely fast.]]

Standing next to your mum, time dilates and I am thrust [[thousands of years into the future]].

$location[100,000AD Crystal Earth] Given your mum's mass situation, I've ended up a lot further into the future than I intended. I'm sure you understand. [[Just look for a fucking stamp.]]

It's a long mission. Alex gets to work their joystick and fly the ship, and all I have are these ants... [[Study the ants like you're supposed to]]. [[Flush the ants into space]].

Taking steps to preserve the vital ant farm under my seat, the ejector system propels me headfirst into the ground. I am [[DEAD]].

This gets me out of my one job. I just act like I have no idea where the ants have gone. I say I expect they'll turn up eventually, probably in the last place we look. What actually happens is that, due to the effects of time dilation, when the ants turn up again, it's as the vanguard of their millennia-old [[space ant civilisation]].

Alex swaggers around. Awesome captain. Cool pilot. Meanwhile, I'm the ant person. Someone gets an itch, they blame me. By the time we reach the [[exoplanet]] I have almost died of boredom.

The ant ambassador's translation device is saying, "Take us to your Queen." And Alex is nudging me in the back. "You got us into this mess." The rest of the crew glower behind them. "[[Yes, it's me, the Queen. Monarch, if you want to split hairs.]]" "[[Greetings, please devour my captain as an appetiser.]]" [[Vent the airlock.]]

Alex is on all the screens, in their sleek environment suit, planting the flag of whatever stupid country we live in on this unlucky planet. I need to get down there and look for stamps. But I also need to study my stupid ant farm. [[Just keep studying the ants]] [[Take the ants onto the exoplanet]]

$location[Exoplanet Alex 1] This is enrichment. These ants must be so bored of the same view every day. Now they can see these low gravity cliffs, impossibly tall. Strange flora, evolved under a different sun. The shuttle controls screaming "Pull up! Pull up!" Okay, [[I can't fly this thing]].

They'd better cure cancer with this ant data or something. I keep studying my ant farm until Alex makes it back from their mission. "Check it out," they say, showing me a little wooden disc. "$impossible[ALIEN STAMP]. I think the alien wanted to trade sexual favours for it or something, but don't worry, I negotiated down to giving them one of my space program publicity photos." The journey back home is just as excruciatingly boring but at least when we arrive, [[it is thousands of years in the future]].

Trapped in the wreckage of the shuttle, being eaten alive by my own ants. Little traitor bastards. "Hold tight," Space Captain Alex is saying over the radio. "Search and rescue team is only two hours away." It's not soon enough. I'm [[DEAD]].

$location[9000AD: Earth] The robed scientist that meets me on the landing platform takes the forms I have been filling in, looks at them for a few seconds, then points to them and turns them right-side up. Alex slaps me on the back. "Don't worry," they say, "I don't think it was important data even if you'd gotten it right." [[Go to the future post office.]] [[Go to my crappy flat in the future.]] [[Fight in the crystal wars.]]

I enter the queue. Everyone else in the queue is floating, but it only seems to be //slightly// rude to have one's feet on the ground. "One stamp please," I tell the cashier. They rub their fingers together in the universal gesture for "money", and then shake their head in the universal gesture for "that's not valid currency in the current era" when I open my wallet. Alex floats past me to buy a $impossible[FUTURE STAMP] from the next kiosk with a fistful of crystal coins. [[Start thinking about how to get back to the present.]]

Alex and I are cowering in the trenches, astral robes wrapped tight against the freezing cold. "Why the fuck are we here?" Alex shouts over the screams of torment. "You said something about stamps, right?" Before I can answer, a crystal tesseract lands in the trench with us, pulsates, and explodes. I am [[DEAD]].

My crappy flat is now an ant museum with my name on it (misspelled). Given the academic scandal over my millennia-long study, my (misspelled) name is understandably in the process of being removed. One of the visiting ant fans spits at me. Alex grimaces. "Not going to be staying over any time soon, let's be honest." [[Go to the future post office.]] [[Fight in the crystal wars.]]

I'll get some stamps in this era eventually. Maybe there's something that's taboo in this era but common in mine and I can sell videos of myself doing it or whatever. Not like my career studying ants can suffer any more reputation damage. But there's one thing I can't wait anymore to learn: "Alex, in this era, these are //possible// stamps. You just bought them at the future post office. If we want them to be $impossible[IMPOSSIBLE] stamps, then we have to get back to the present." "Don't worry," Alex says with a smug little smile. "I have a plan for that." [[But...]]

We haven't been paying attention to the Crystal War. Desperate for fresh troops, Earth's defences falter, just a little. Alex is saying, "The way to travel backwards through time is so devilishly simple that-" When the crystal tesseract impacts between us and explodes. I am [[DEAD]].

Years of negotiating the complex politics of the $disdain[extreme stamp collecting] club have unexpectedly turned me into the exact negotiator humanity required for this delicate moment. We are soon all feasting on one of the ants' spaceships, human befriending giant insect. Alex nudges me. "See if you can get some stamps out of this." I turn to the ant beside me. "[[So, post any good letters recently?]]" "[[Please give me a stamp so I can rub it in someone's face.]]"

To the ant ambassador's intuitively eusocial outlook, my treachery has only a single possible response. I don't see how my space crew react to me being obliterated by the ants' laser guns, because I'm instantly [[DEAD]].

The ant ambassador is sucked out into oblivion. "You idiot," someone says. "Incoming missiles!" screams another. Alex just shakes their head and sighs. We're all [[DEAD]].

{ (set: $wow to (transition:"pulse") + (transition-time: 2s)) (set: $location to (text-style: "double-underline")) (set: $extreme to (text-style: "outline", "fidget")) (set: $disdain to (text-style: "blur", "condense")) (set: $impossible to (text-style: "smear")) (set: $GajSafeLook to false) (set: $GajPaintingLook to false) (set: $GajBedLook to false) (set: $impgrab to false) }

By the time my complex statement has made it through the translation device, the ant is left puzzled by my fetish, but happy to indulge it. The giant ant's foot pops my skull like a watermelon. I am [[DEAD]].

The giant ant explains to me that they communicate over long distances with bottled pheromones. The intended recipient of each bottle is determined by a particular molecular component of said pheromone. Alex leans over. "So... the stamp." We sneak away to steal one of these message bottles and attempt to chemically extract its molecular stamp. Instead, we just cause a reaction that generates a noxious and deadly vapour. I am [[DEAD]].

The imp dodges out of the way! But I almost got it that time, I'm sure! { (if: $impgrab is true)[Can you hear someone crying?] } (t8n-arrive: "zoom")[[Keep trying to grab the stamp.]] { (if: $impgrab is true)+(t8n-arrive: "slide-left")[[Try and find whoever is crying.]] (set: $impgrab to true) }

I wander into a different red room where Alex is comforting a crying demon. "There, there," they say. "You couldn't have known I was actually into that." Then Alex notices me. "Oh, hey." And then they ever-so-slightly mispronounce my name. This really is Hell. [[Hell<-Go back to your own torture room.]] [[Join in comforting Alex's demon.]] [[Leave and look for another stamp.]]

"Don't worry," I tell the demon, "Alex has that effect on a lot of people." "Um," Alex says, "what's //that// supposed to mean?" "You know what it means," I say. The demon looks between the two of us, comes to some sort of realisation and suddenly runs out of the room, closing and locking the door. [[Ten thousand years later...]]

The search has not gone well. I have fallen into a lava pool. I'm not dying, but it is absolutely agonising. [[Climb out onto those spikes.]] [[Sink down into whatever is at the bottom.]]

"And so you see," Alex is saying, "the trolley problem //does// have an objectively best solution, when you consider it in the context of the Münchhausen trilemma." "Ah," I say, stroking my chin, "indubitably. A perfect train of reasoning from my dearest friend." Someone screams, "No! (text-style: "shadow")[NO!]" The demon bursts in, absolutely furious. "Ten thousand years and all you've done is go insane and convince yourselves of //absolute bullshit//! You've only murdered one another //three times//! In ten thousand years! And the (text-style: "fidget")[//constant weird sex//]! I'm a demon and it makes //me// puke! Literally puke!" In his rage, he tears me limb from limb. I am now [[DOUBLE DEAD]].

So now I am both badly burned //and// impaled on spikes. There are no words to describe the pain I am in. Help? [[Pull on that spiked chain.]] [[Crawl into the suspicious orifice.]]

Yes, whatever is at the bottom of a lava pool shouldn't just be... //more lava//, right? In fact it's not: it's a giant fanged beast of some kind that devours me whole. I am now [[DOUBLE DEAD]].

I have now been eviscerated. Are you doing this on purpose? Have you been part of this all along? When the last piece of me has been shredded by the spiked chain, I am finally, blissfully [[DOUBLE DEAD]].

Somewhere I can hear Alex moaning. "I keep telling you, I'm //into that//." At some point I reach some chemicals that start dissolving me. Just so you know, this also hurts, but at least it's all coming to an end. Soon I am [[DOUBLE DEAD]].

Well, nothing I guess, except perhaps the fact I haven't thought about it until now. Until now, when I did just think about it. I sink into the Earth's molten core, which, I find out the hard way, is hot enough to even burn up the human spirit. I am [[DEAD]].

I look up. And suddenly I am falling uncontrollably into the endless void above. I can't... I can't stop! After a while, Alex floats in front of me, head resting in their hands. "Oh, hey, didn't think you'd be one to project this far outside the galaxy." "[[I'm fine, leave me alone.]]" "[[OUTSIDE THE GALAXY?!]]"

Alex shrugs and drifts away. "Sure you are." I'm not fine, of course. After I've been flying through the void for a few days, my body back on Earth dies of dehydration. I am [[DEAD]].

Alex narrows their eyes. "Lost are we?" They reach over to turn my spirit around. On the contact between our innermost selves, I catch the briefest flash of Alex's deepest, darkest secrets. I turn on them. "YOU! You //killed// my houseplant!" "Eh," Alex says. "Weedkiller, plant food, the bottles were the same colour. You should've written me proper instructions instead of that little post-it." [[Forgive Alex.]] [[Hold a massive fucking grudge.]]

"I forgive you," I say, feeling the weight lift from my soul. I mean I'm just forgiving them for the houseplant, not all the other stuff, but it feels like [[I'm going to ascend]] anyway.

The grudge weighs me down and I begin to fall back towards my body. "Careful," Alex says, but I am speeding away from them faster and faster, until the universe is a blur. When I hit my body, it is with such spiritual force that the connection between my soul and body is severed. Or, in other words, I am [[DEAD]].

$location[Unknown Time: A Higher Plane of Existence] Welp, here I am on a higher plane of existence, chilling with the other ascended beings, shooting the breeze about the mysteries of existence. "[[Are there any stamps up here?]]" "[[Somehow I'm expecting someone in particular to turn up any second.]]"

The conclave of higher beings informs me, after careful deliberation, that letters are an unnecessary physical attachment blah blah blah. God this is boring and I miss Alex. "[[Somehow I'm expecting someone in particular to turn up any second.]]" [[Do something to get expelled from the higher plane of existence.]]

The conclave of higher beings informs me, after careful deliberation, that someone obsessed with competition and physical attachments can never ascend to join us. Okay, well what the fuck am I doing here then? "[[Are there any stamps up here?]]" [[Do something to get expelled from the higher plane of existence.]]

These people are so stuck up this should be easy. [[Announce that physical attachments are really cool actually.]] [[Start a fight.]] [[Make fart noises whenever anyone bends over.]]

This just triggers a lengthy debate. The most boring conversation I've ever heard. And I'm lauded for playing "Devil's advocate." [[Start a fight.]] [[Make fart noises whenever anyone bends over.]]

My fists just pass through whoever I try and wail on. This sucks. [[Announce that physical attachments are really cool actually.]] [[Make fart noises whenever anyone bends over.]]

"That wasn't me," they say to start with, until they realise who's doing it. "That's really immature," they say then. "Like, it's really just yourself that you're embarrassing. No-one thinks it's funny." [[It's working, keep doing it.]] [[Announce that physical attachments are really cool actually.]] [[Start a fight.]]

"There's nothing funny about normal bodily functions," someone says, "we're above that." [[Thrrrrp. Pfffft. Brrraaaap. Thrp.]]

"Okay," someone says, finally, "I've had enough. Get me my //ascended shotgun//." Wait, what? After they've splattered my spiritual form over the wall, it turns out that if you die in a higher plain of existence, you're [[DEAD]] in real life too.

I guess that Crystal War they're having thousands of years from now doesn't go very well for us non-crystal beings. I could explore: [[The crystal post office.]] [[The crystal that used to be my crappy flat.]] [[The crystal that Alex is leaning against looking stupid cool.]]

So crystals don't send letters, it turns out, and this post office is specifically a trap intended to trap dangerous stamp collectors. Once the crystal-focused lasers have dismembered me, I am thoroughly [[DEAD]].

Perhaps embodying the lingering spirit of my landlord, this particular crystal is carnivorous and voracious. Once ground up between its crystalline teeth, I am quite [[DEAD]].

Alex is uncharacteristically quiet. Worried, I squeeze their shoulder. "Hey, Alex." The crystal they're leaning on suddenly spins round, fixing a bright cyclopean eye on us. "Wait," it says, "you're //human//?!" "Great," Alex says, "way to blow my cover. This close to getting the stamp." The crystal's disintegration beams are mercifully swift. I am [[DEAD]].

Our fingers slide past one another, thumbtips touching ever so lightly. Palms brush together, softly, but close enough to feel the lines on their delicate skin. The drone's warnings have faded into the background. Alex bites their lower lip. [[Ungh, fuck, now caress the skin between their thumb and forefinger in a widening spiral...]] [[Oh, just fucking pounce on one another]]

I'm going to be completely honest: you've made it weird. [[Oh, just fucking pounce on one another]]

(size: 2)+(text-style: "smear")[PHILATELOIDS] A stamp collection simulator by C.E.J. Pacian. //*WARNING*: due to its realistic depiction of its subject matter, this game contains violence, sex, gore, body horror, strong language, police brutality, immature humour, eaten alive by ants, blasphemy and explicit hand-holding.// [[Start<-Open Stamp Album]]