[SCRAP] Tangling With A Twisted Angel
An example of how Dialogue could work in a game I end up writing for; this is in the manner of fixed trees, that progress the conversation--somewhat like Bioware RPGs like Baldur's Gate, Planescape Torment, or Dragon Age possess. The text in brackets indicates a selection chosen from a list of responses, offered the player at key points--some of which might be influenced by character stats, etc.
Amidst the stinking fox-folk, another being stands out for wearing clothing that, even had her feathered wings not given her away, is certainly Angelic in origin; too clean and bright to even fit in with the dusky glade and its dirty denizens. She too sports vulpine features, including a wet rhinarium and a broad pair of fur-filled ears--proving that even Heaven is no stranger to the new conversion going around.
When she spots you looking at her, you whip your head away--but this proves fruitless enough when she glides over quietly to your position. You barely even see her feet move, before she is standing before you, one hand offered to you.
You pause.
"Look at it." she whispers.
[*Stare away*]
You stare into space.
"My hand." she insists.
[Comply.]
You sheepishly comply. "It's a paw." you add, hesitant.
"It was a normal hand, like a human's, once."
["So?"]
"So?" you ask bluntly.
"So now it's changed. I am an Angel, changed..."
She grabs your hand, which to your surprise, has gained a striking resemblance to hers.
"Much as you are now changing. This entire world is changed, because of our presence here; and we are too. Because 'we' are here, we too must change. Are you afraid?"
[Tell the Angel you're afraid.]
You hesitantly nod, palming your protuberant nose with your hand that has become tipped in black nubby little nails. They seem to already be growing eagerly, ready to change into a bestial muzzle and full-on claws.
"I too, am afraid. Our old natures are compromised by this phenom." At this, she flaps her wings, and folds them in over her bosom, almost protectively, for a moment. Then, she looks up at you, and it seems that whatever convictions she has, have been solidified.
"But there is more to this world than what once was. Of this, we need only observe that time goes on."
["Yet there are precedents to this world, that exist to be followed. We must not be shaken by the moment. Are you not an Angel of the Lord?"]
"I was." she replies. "Much as Lucifer was once, a servant of he who calls himself our Father."
["...But?"]
"...But?" you ask.
She sighs, bearing a heavy weight before you. "But that has changed. I have found... some Truth here." as she says this, a number of feathers begin to fall from her wings, as if she were a bird, molting. "I am not so sure I can maintain this guise, as an Angel, for much longer."
["Guise?"]
"Guise?" You ask, puzzled. "Are you a fake Angel, or something?"
"I am sorry." She smiles, apologizing. "You may not be familiar with the nature of our kind, being human. Angels that cannot follow the tenets of our Father... are cast down...
[Suspicious: "What happens then?"]
"What happens then?" you ask, suspecting you already know.
"We become Fallen Angels. Your kind; children of Adam, call them "Demons". Or, in a less direct propensity--'evil' spirits."
[Ask if she is afraid.]
"And you are afraid of this?" you ask.
"No. I am... prepared. Saddened, but ready for this. I have thought on it for many, many years now. You may be surprised to hear that, but I have... cogitated on the nature of being an Angel, and I realize that this is perhaps a necessity, rather than a risk, for our kind."
[(Intelligence 8): Stare, confused.]
You stare blankly, perplexed at the statement
"I'm sorry. You see, as a creature who is ruled by the need to pursue the well-being of humans, I find myself more and more at odds with my own purpose. That is because humans... are changing. Now I too change, and I feel that perhaps, just as yours and mine own body change, so must my purpose. Even before this event, I watched, as your kind progressed to greater and greater heights; coming inevitably closer to our wisdom and experience simply through the progression of time. And I made a realization--"
["What is that?"]
"What is that?" you ask.
"That pushing your painstaking creations down; or simply creating dissent among you, to keep you away from the Heavens--as it was with Babel--that may "be" an act of evil on the part of our kind. Why should you 'not' seek what lies within your reach? Now, instead, we dictate what you must 'be'--and this too is changing. Rather than stop it--I want to help you pursue your fates. Those should be yours to seek."
[(Charisma 14) Brashly: "You sound like Lucifer."]
You make a quip. "You sound like Lucifer," you say dryly.
"I know." she adds, revealing a degree of resignation--and with that, a few more feathers drop, exposing bare skin on the edges of her rather wilted-looking wings. "And the more I think about it, the more I question. Why should I not? If I am to become as Him, should it not be because I sought to do right? And if I remain as this--"
She strokes her wings, bringing them close, like a wounded animal, "--would it be simply because I chose not to question Providence?"
[Ask what 'she' wants.]
She stares up at you, as if you have given her some level of certainty she'd been missing.
"I 'want' to know, and not to hide from the Truth. But should I act on my own want? Oh... to Hell with it all."
She curses, weary of what seems to have been a long-standing moral dillemma. It is something you have never seen before; an Angel befouling the world with profanity, however minor. At once, her radiance diminishes to a thoroughly human level--though she retains her beauty, she now seems little more than a winged woman--and her feathers are now dropping fast, and in clumps.
"The Truth is what is important to me, and I cannot find it by hiding and closing my eyes. Let me seek it then, and continue on as the creature I have become."
And with this statement, a startling change begins in the angel. Her form twists, and her clothes slip off her figure, as her wings shrink down into naked stumps. Soon they are gone altogether. With a wince and a shout, she bends, as three new protrusions announce themselves on her rump, stretching up and splitting her skirt open, leaving three long, waving tails, that glisten with long, silky silver hair. With a groan of pain, her face stretches and contorts; her wet nose pad moving, creeping up the end of her face, as thick whiskers pierce their way out of her stretching upper lip. Shiny tears glisten from her eyes as they turn from blue to piss-yellow, and she screams, giving you a clear view to her gums, which strain and speckle with black, bursting open as row after row of predator carnassals displace what were once human-like molars. She bites her tongue, which grows to be an enormous, floppy pink muscle, long enough to hang even out of her long new vulpine mouth. Finally, her red hair comes out in clumps, and twin fox ears crown her transformed head, coated in the same silvery fur that is even now sweeping across the rest of her body.
She puts a curious hand between her legs, and shifts them, looking over her new body, and exploring the changes. New teats poke up from her naked belly, and squeeze out between her hips, to accompany the two modest-sized knockers she already had.
"THE CHANGE IS COMPLETE." an ominous voice echoes in your head. "YOU ARE AS EVE TO ADAM; READY MOTHER--AND NOW MY CHILDREN MUST HAVE THEIR FATHER."
Your gaze turns to the source of the voice; the gigantic fox creature you had seen as you entered the glade.
One of its two eyes is now open, and it is now gazing into your soul, as its owner begins to awaken--
"--WITHIN YOU."