Exploration Project

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<<audio ":all" stop>> <<type 50ms>> <span class="red">You shut your eyes.</span> <</type>> <<type 50ms start 2s>> You will now imagine yourself in a new place. <</type>> <<type 50ms start 0.5s>> <<if !visited("Begin")>> [[Begin]] <<elseif !visited("Enter the hut")>> [[Begin|Enter the hut]] <<else>> [[Begin|Pick up the book]] <</if>> <</type>>

<<audio "jungle-music" loop play>> <div class="text-box"> <<type 30ms>> The large flora blocks out the sun. Yet, you can not help but feel exhausted from the suffocating heat of the jungle environment. <</type>> <<type 30ms start 2s>> Do you feel the sweat on your brow? The sticky sensation from the air? Your unstable footing? Do not try and push it away. Imagine all the discomforting things you would experience within a rainforest. The bugs flying around you. Your matted hair. The rustling of leaves. <</type>> <<type 50ms start 1s>> Take it all in. <</type>> <<type 50ms start 5s>> Now, picture a small hut in front of you. What do you do? <</type>> <<type 50ms>> [[Enter the hut]] [[Leave the jungle]] <</type>> </div>

``` <<audio "jungle-music" loop play>> <div class="text-box"> <<type 30ms>> You walk inside the hut. There is no door. The reeds of the roof do a decent job preventing the inside from getting wet, but the humidity remains. The hut is mostly empty. There is merely an intricate rug on the floor, and a small book. The book has no title. <</type>> <<type 30ms start 1s>> What do you do? <</type>> <<type 30ms start 1s>> [[Pick up the book]] [[Leave the hut]] <</type>> </div>

<div class="text-box"> <<type 30ms>> You leave the jungle. <</type>> <<type 30ms start 1s>> Why? Could you not handle the uncomfortable sensations? Even the ones limited to your own mind? <</type>> <<type 30ms start 1s>> Well, it is your choice at the end of the day. I don't think there is much I can say that will persuade you. <</type>> <<type 100ms start 1s>> <span class="red">You wake up.</span> <</type>> <<type 30ms start 2s>> [[END|Sleep]] <</type>> </div>

<div class="text-box"> <<type 30ms>> You leave the hut. <</type>> <<type 30ms start 1s>> As you walk away from the lone settlement, you can't help but wonder what the book might have contained. You consider going back… <</type>> <<type 30ms start 1s>> But you are already so far away. It's a long journey home. Wouldn't it be uncomfortable to stand in an old hut in the middle of the jungle, reading something you may not even enjoy? <</type>> <<type 30ms start 2s>> Why not just head home? <</type>> <<type 30ms start 1s>> You continue walking. You walk and walk. Nothing happens on the journey back. <</type>> <<type 100ms start 2s>> <span class="red">You wake up.</span> <</type>> <<type 30ms start 1s>> [[END|Sleep]] <</type>> </div>

<<audio ":all" stop>> <div class="black-text"> <<type 30ms>> <<if !visited("Downtown") and !visited("Spanglish") and !visited("Unrequited")>> You pick up the book, and open it. Inside is a table of contents, featuring three entries. Which do you read first? <<elseif visited("Downtown") and visited("Spanglish") and visited("Unrequited")>> You have finished the book. <<else>> Choose your next read. <</if>> <<if !visited("Downtown")>>[[Downtown]]<</if>> <<if !visited("Spanglish")>>[[Spanglish]]<</if>> <<if !visited("Unrequited")>>[[Unrequited]]<</if>> <<if visited("Downtown") and visited("Spanglish") and visited("Unrequited")>>[[Put down the book]]<</if>> <</type>> </div>

<div class="black-text"> The sidewalk still smelled of rain. George breezed past buildings. His eyes wandered upwards, seeing them stretch stories into the sky. Most of them were apartments with businesses occupying many of the bottom floors. A typical layout for the modern downtown area. However, George noticed that there were far fewer businesses than before. He wondered why that may be. He saw the words “For Sale” posted on the windows of recently vacated offices. Stores whose signage shouted, “Everything Must Go!” He noticed one shop that he used to frequent, a board game shop, was closed before its usual hours. He thought about the times he would spend in the shop when he was younger, picking out a new game to bring home and play with his family. When the shop was in its prime, he would attend trading card game tournaments with friends, and meet biweekly for a Dungeons & Dragons campaign hosted by the shop’s owner. George felt sad knowing that the shop’s days were coming to an end. He felt a little angry that more people were not frequenting the shop, that they would let all those good memories disappear with them, preserving nothing for the younger generations. But, when was the last time that I even visited the board game shop? George wondered to himself. It must have been at least a year. He was just too busy with work to go frequently. Attending tournaments was certainly out of the question. Board games are expensive nowadays, too. Last time he went, he didn’t buy anything, just looked around. George wondered, was he a part of the problem? No, he decided. Times are hard. How could he expect anyone to attend specialty stores? It is especially difficult when they’re a young adult like George, and just trying to get by in life. Rent, utilities, and groceries are expensive! Most people don’t have the extra cash to spend on frivolous things like games. And when they do, you can get board games for cheaper online. It is sad, but the world is a different place compared to a decade ago. George continued on his way, past the various brick and stone buildings that filled the downtown area. No sun shined over head, gray clouds dampening its rays. He turned a corner, and arrived at his destination, the bank. He pulled on the door, but it did not open. He tried again, but it refused to budge. He tried pushing, to no avail. Finally, he looked up at the window next to the door. There, he saw a piece of paper taped to the inside of the window, a hastily written message on it. “Our hours have shifted! Now open Weekdays, 8:00 AM to 3:30 PM.” George checked his watch, it was 5:22 PM. He could not have attended the bank at an earlier hour, since his shift did not finish until 4:45 PM. George sighed, let go of the handle, and turned around. He mumbled to himself, “A half hour of a Wednesday evening wasted.” George walked back to his car, once again passing the old board game shop. This time, he noticed that the inside of the store was almost entirely empty, filled only with vacant shelves. Maybe things had changed more than he realized. [[Return to Table of Contents|Pick up the book]] </div>

<div class="black-text"> You’d be surprised how often people groups lose their language. It has become a bit of an American stereotype. Picture it now, the U.S. born native frustrated by the migrant retail worker’s thick accent. “If you’re going to live in America, you need to learn English!” Ignore the fact that English was not the first language here. Spanish was the primary language in the west. And before that, Penutian, Aztecan, Algic, and Yukian. These languages are asleep now. Endangered. When Bobi was a child, she was told not to speak Spanish. Her mother forbade it. This confused her, since her mother and uncle had long conversations in Spanish. She was not privy to understanding these secret conversations. She was taught only English from birth. As she grew, she began to understand her mother’s rule. She endured looks and vile words from strangers, their skin only a few shades lighter than hers. If she spoke Spanish, what else would they say to her? She fell in with crowds she should not have been a part of. She met a boy, and they loved each other. Though they did not know it at the time, they would continue loving each other for decades. But, they were a part of the wrong crowd, one who encouraged unwise things. Despite being a girl herself, Bobi was now expecting one. She turned to her mother for help. There was shame, and harsh words. Her mother’s fear would flow into her anger. It was expressed in Spanish. Bobi didn’t need to speak the language to understand her mother’s tongue. Bobi’s mother hid her away. Sent her to a home for expecting single mothers. When Bobi’s daughter was born, she did not have much time with her. She was given away, and Bobi was told that she would never see her again. An aspect of her identity, removed forever. But, Bobi carried on. She still loved the boy, and when they were grown, they got married. They made a life together. Eventually, Bobi had more children. And those children grew, and had children of their own. Meanwhile, the world changed around them. Social expectations changed. People fought for their rights, spoke out about their dreams. It became more and more common to openly speak other languages in the Americas. Bobi wished she could teach her daughter and son Spanish, but she did not have the tools to do so. Over thirty years passed, and Bobi had a heavy heart. She had not told her children about the daughter given away. Why would she? She was told to keep it hidden. To hide the shame. Bury the grief. But as the years passed, it bottled up inside her. She had to tell her children. She gathered them together at her house, and revealed her secret. Immediately, her daughter began to search for her long-lost sister. They did not expect to find much. No one knew anything about her. Was she still alive? Where did she end up if so? Would she even be in the country still? Miraculously, they found her. Not only was she still in the country, she lived in the same city in which Bobi’s family had grown up. How many times had unknowingly, mother and daughter, or sisters, passed each other on the street? Bobi could hardly believe it. They got in contact with her, and set a date to meet. The date came. When Bobi and her children arrived at the meeting place, they waited anxiously for the lost child’s arrival. When they saw her for the first time, she looked so much like a younger Bobi. The relation was undeniable. Their first meeting was emotionally charged. Bobi learned so many things about her daughter, Anna. About her adoptive family, her children, her job and passions and personality. Anna was fluent in Spanish. Despite growing up with a white family, she learned the language at a young age. She wanted to establish a connection with her biological family. This was her way of doing so. The amount of people groups who lose their native language is vast. But there are those who go out of their way to preserve them. To maintain a connection to those who came before. Bobi’s connection had been found. [[Return to Table of Contents|Pick up the book]] </div>

<div class="black-text"> My sweaty palms clench, The thought of you maddens me. Feelings make me ache. [[Return to Table of Contents|Pick up the book]] </div>

<<audio "jungle-music" loop play>> <div class="text-box"> <<type 30ms>> You put the book back where you found it. <</type>> <<type 30ms start 1s>> How do you feel? <</type>> <<type 30ms start 5s>> The stories maybe weren't all that well written. Fairly amateurish. One might even say, rushed. But they were written. They exist. Maybe the author will continue to practice the craft. Maybe he will be distracted by the whirlwind of chaos called life. Who knows. I like to think the former will occur. <</type>> <<type 30ms start 1s>> What do you think? <</type>> <<type 30ms start 1s>> [[The author will keep writing!|Good choice!]] [[The author will be distracted|Good choice!]] [[Some secret third thing|Good choice!]] <</type>> </div>

<div class="text-box"> <<type 30ms>> Fair choice. <</type>> <<type 30ms start 1s>> But now, there isn't much left for you here. At this point, you have probably forgotten the discomforts of your jungle environment. You have gotten used to them. What do you do? <</type>> <<type 30ms start 1s>> [[Stay a bit longer]] [[Leave]] <</type>> </div>

<div class="text-box"> <<type 30ms>> You sit down on the hut's floor, and stare out the door into the jungle environment. It's really quite beautiful, isn't it? <</type>> <<type 100ms start 2s>> <span class="red">[[END|Yippee!!]]</span> <</type>> </div>

<<audio ":all" stop>> <div class="text-box"> <<type 30ms>> You walk out of the hut, and through the jungle. <</type>> <<type 30ms start 1s>> You go past the trees, and through a bushel of large leaves. As you brush the last leaf out of your way, you see your home. It is just as you left it. <</type>> <<type 30ms start 1s>> <span class="green">You wake up.</span> <</type>> <<type 30ms start 1s>> <span class="green">[[END|Yippee!!]]</span> <</type>> </div>

<<cacheaudio "jungle-music" "https://litter.catbox.moe/b2ye84rukc8utj69.mp3">>