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arehera · 23 hours ago

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Ackermann's Demons

A Recursive Game (200 Words Sans Title and Heading, Pro-Archival)

The Archmagus Ackermann has SUMMONED you, a foul DEMON, bound by your Name:___ and CHARGED to seek forbidden KNOWLEDGE. Occult tomes, forgotten spells, grim attracts, horrid rituals, they tempt you. Have a taste of what is on offer!

ACKERMANN'S AGGRAVATING ARMOIRE

This foul furniture has been ensorcled to inconvenience its user. Reaching into it will produce only clashing outfits. In addition, socks stored inside lose their partners, only to reappear and force their owner to go through the pain of losing them twice!

Now go! You are imbued with WILL and must pursue KNOWLEDGE. You are bound by the RULES OF DEMONS.

1. DEMONS RETURN TO HELL! When your WILL is expended your time is up. Find one last piece of KNOWLEDGE and RETURN all your KNOWLEDGE to your SUMMONER.

2. DEMONS DON'T WORK FOR NOTHING! While you still have WILL but no KNOWLEDGE, go discover! Expend a WILL to discover one piece of forbidden KNOWLEDGE.

3. DEMONS ARE LAZY! Assemble your KNOWLEDGE and destroy one piece, sacrificing it to SUMMON a new DEMON. It has the same WILL as you, takes all of your KNOWLEDGE, and obeys the RULES OF DEMONS. Expend a WILL as you await its RETURN.

Ackermann's Demon is a game about recursion, frustration, and waste. It's a game about bureaucracy. If you choose to play it you'll find that not only do you quickly create a tangle of demons but that most demons sit around and wait, that most discovered knowledge is destroyed, and that it all takes longer than it should.

These three rules, A(0,n)=n+1 (RETURN), A(m,0)=A(m-1,1) (DISCOVER), and A(m,n)=A(m-1,A(m, n-1)) (SUMMON) describe the Ackermann function as developed by Péter and Robinson. While it is significant to mathematics as a piece of the history of computability theory it's perhaps better known for growing extremely quickly.

Starting with 0 or 1, or 2 WILL is relatively safe. Starting with 3 WILL grows quickly, especially if you start with any additional KNOWLEDGE.

Starting a game with 4 WILL and 1 KNOWLEDGE or 5 WILL results in a game that ends with 65,553 pieces of KNOWLEDGE. And that's just the knowledge that isn't destroyed.

A game played according to these rules with more than 5 WILL, with 5 WILL and any KNOWLEDGE, or with 4 WILL and more than 2 KNOWLEDGE cannot finish in the lifetime of our universe.

This game can be reskinned. I would recommend maintaining the Péter and Robinson definition, with two stats and three rules. For example, Ackermann's Office, where you use your SALARY to write REPORTS and your rules are to CLOCK OUT, WRITE, and SUBCONTRACT, which may be a bit on the nose.

This game can be freely reproduced. If you decide to play it please let me know.

200 Word RPGs 2024

Each November, some people try to write a novel. Others would prefer to do as little writing as possible. For those who wish to challenge their ability to not write, we offer this alternative: producing a complete, playable roleplaying game in two hundred words or fewer.

This is the submission thread for the 2024 event, running from November 1st, 2024 through November 30th, 2024. Submission guidelines can be found in this blog's pinned post, here.

#rpg #200 word rpgs #tumblr 200 word rpgs #game jam

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confetti-cat · 1 year ago

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For some reason I often forget to share with Tumblr that I do, in fact, write things more frequently than I post them here, so here's a piece I still like! A oneshot for Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (and some of the rest of the LoZ series).

time immemorial, remembered - (2k)

If he is a hero of anything, it's of a grown-over wild, a land where grasses spring up in fallen garrisons and every breath of wind carries the scent of old rains and new flowers and ancient wisps of forgotten memories.

He doesn't want��to remember others. He doesn't want to recall lives that aren't his own.

(It's strange, when he remembers the wrong things.)

Set post-BotW - feat. friendly adventuring, a little bit of Link/Zelda fluff, and Link just wishing he could remember the pieces to his own puzzle. Written before TotK, so no spoilers for it. Enjoy!

AO3 link here!

—

It's strange, when he remembers the wrong things.

He knows he doesn't remember everything. He knows that, Zelda knows that (unfortunately—he tried, he's still trying; she deserves a knight who truly remembers her), Impa and Purah and Robbie know that, and the spirits of the King and Champions know that. He's working hard to regain his memories, and they all know that's the most he can do.

Still, it's hard not to wish his mind would do more when his sense of déjà vu doesn't always work correctly.

They're at the curl of the beach where Akkala overlooks the ocean, and while Zelda is gushing about her Sheikah Slate picture of a new rhino beetle, he's looking at the sand. Something stirs in his head, as he looks at the waves and the palm trees and thinks—you've been here.

The feeling is bittersweet but painful, like a memory of an odd dream. Yet it was clear—he'd woken up on the beach once and cleared caves for kind people and had walked a strange black dog on a chain. A big dog with big teeth.

"When did I shipwreck at sea?" he asks Zelda, because it doesn't quite fit with what he knows of his life in the past. Perhaps his father had taught him to sail—perhaps he'd gotten a small boat himself. Zelda has a clearer picture of his life than he does at this point.

Yet, she stares at him uncertainly, blinking once or twice.

"When did you... pardon?"

A wave of embarrassment rushes over him, because Zelda usually understands him perfectly, and—sheesh, maybe he hadn't spoken clearly. His voice catches in his throat sometimes. He tries not to look so ashamed as he restates his question. "...Didn't I shipwreck at sea, once?"

Zelda blinks at him, thoughts whirring through her eyes, and then she looks out at the beach and the palm trees and the ocean.

"...Not that I'm aware of," she says carefully, and Link reminds himself that they hadn't truly known each other until they were sixteen. "Perhaps it happened when you were young?"

He doesn't know. Something about it doesn't feel quite right, like it doesn't fit. It's a puzzle piece to the wrong puzzle.

So he shrugs and dismisses it, at least for now, though the images don't leave his mind.

It happens again when they're up at Shatterback Point, just in time for the sunset. The Zora reservoir glistens like molten sapphire below, and the mountain peaks all around them have a golden-purple sheen in the late afternoon light.

It's not that, though—it's the way it feels to have the world so far below, and to see wing feathers as eagles make lofty circles in the sky, and he has the silly thought of how maybe this is Hyrule, and everything else so far below is really just Lorule.

It doesn't really hit him until Zelda has found an excuse to poke fun at him, in a playful, friendly way that ends with her smirking at him and his back to the open air, stuck in the few inches between a princess and a freefall that would last ages.

He can't lean forward for balance because she's right there, and he certainly is not leaning backward, so there's really no other option than to cling to balance and try to stand rigidly.

His heart skips a beat, because he suddenly remembers this—staring nervously into the face of a blonde princess who has far too much fun spending time with him, and he knows what will happen. She's going to push him off, like she did when they were in the sky kingdom and he liked wearing tan and she looked a bit different.

But she doesn't push him. Zelda shrinks back a little and laughs in embarrassment at her actions—she was more sure of herself a hundred years ago in the sky, wasn't she? Or was it a hundred thousand?—and allows him to step away from the edge and toward the danger: high dive at your own risk! sign a safer distance from the open air.

(He thinks—and this is really him, the normal him—that if it didn't take so long to get back up here from the water far below, he would show her a swan dive.)

(Maybe they could both—no, no. It isn't called Shatterback Point for nothing. He somehow doubts that she shares his ideas of entertainment out here, anyway.)

"I apologize," this Zelda says in embarrassment, looking away so that he can only see the tips of her ears turning pink. "I don't know what came over me."

His brain is too bewildered by all the déjà vu to mind. He tells her it's fine, because it is—some part of him thinks it feels nice to recognize that they have something friendly and familiar. Even if it is a bit teasing, and even if it does make adrenaline shoot through his veins and his heart pump hard enough to ready him for a freefall.

It happens again at twilight, late after a long day in Hyrule Field. The sky is tinted purple, and flecks of grass and dust float by in the strong breeze.

A wolf is there, in a place Link doesn't usually see any. It's on the next hillside, and it stares at him, eyes reflecting yellow in the dim light of the receding day.

Link's limbs twitch as it turns and leaves, as if reenacting the gait of the wolf—as if feeling the sensation of controlling a wolf's movement, with four limbs pacing and a head turning to and fro. With a sturdy gait and mind set fast on a goal.

When Zelda mutters something nearly irritable at the cooking pot, he half expects to turn his head and see someone who's not Zelda.

It is Zelda, though; of course. He doesn't think he knows anyone else who talks half to him, half to herself. She looks quite frustrated with whatever she's trying to do to improve their meal, and by her muttering, you'd think she was trying to blame him for what he'd put in as the necessary base ingredients.

Well, excuuuse me, Princess, he almost teases to throw her sarcasm back at her, but his mind is suddenly giving him a wildly different case of déjà vu and he vows never to think of saying that again.

They're at a stable, and one of the travelers who loiter by the cooking-fire pulls a little round instrument out of his pack and begins to play a flutelike tune. Something in Link's chest jolts a bit, as if he's only just awoken suddenly, even though the melody doesn't quite feel right. Is it strange that the sound of the little wind instrument feels as though it sends him back to another time?

He tries to ignore the fact that all these nagging lapses in memories ever occur—but they happen again, and again, and again. Always with something strange, something he feels connected to, something he's sure he's never seen before.

He sees things like the Hyrule Forest—a towering, vast area of woods that he knows, even though he's barely been there before. He knows it well enough, at least, to sense that the path isn't the same anymore. Right, left, right, left, forward, left, right—

(He sees the view of Saria's Lake from a patch of grey land hidden deep in a dark forest, shrouded with mist and drained of all color. The lack of pleasant sound here seems stark and wrong to him, and amidst the gaping maws of dying trees, he wonders what's missing from the hollow space that's suddenly prominent in his own chest.)

He sees Zelda sitting cross-legged next to Impa, learning from her, and thinks about how this mentorship feels like something that's been in place for a long time.

He looks at the massive skeleton of a creature called leviathan, and his mind says Jabú-Jabú and Wind Fish and wait—did they die?

He loves the Zora people. He only remembers so much, but it's enough to know he grew up thinking of them like a second family—with King Dorephan as almost a non-Hylian grandfather, and all the young ones as his cousins and friends.

Yet still, when those same Zoras pop out of the river with wide grins to surprise him, there's moments where his heart skips a beat and he's drawn his sword and shield, ready to deflect their attacks.

Enemies! his instincts shout at him—and it hurts, because his heart and mind say friends.

Koroks are strange to him, somehow, and not because they're little plant creatures who can vanish into the wind with ease. He just really feels like one of them should have a fiddle. Hestu's maracas don't quite carry the same emotion in their tune. He finds himself looking twice at the smaller, rounder ones, but none of them quite look right.

(He finds himself standing on a tiny lump of land his slate calls Mekar Island, staring at the piles of bones and the lone dead tree in the middle and wondering why it gives him a vague sense of dread.)

He half expects Beedle to set up shop on a boat in Laurelin, for some reason. Melody comes to mind in Rito Village, when Kass's daughters all come together to sing. (Except melody doesn't sound quite right. Perhaps he's trying to think of something similar?) When he's helping Zelda organize the old library, he can't help but get an odd mental picture when he rereads the chancellor's recipe for monster cake—of a tiny castle official with two horns like a monster. (But how would he hide them while working at the castle? By wearing two hats? Wouldn't that look too silly?)

Except when Zelda is there to study, he avoids the castle's archives like a plague, somehow wary of what he might find there if he gives in and looks for answers to his blurry memories. Perhaps the old rumors of the heroes being the first one reincarnate are true. Or perhaps the physical rigor of fighting through so much malice has messed with his mind. He isn't sure which would be worse.

His memories are... muddled, still; at least where they're not as clear as daylight or so fuzzy they feel nonexistent. The Princess knows this. She tries to help jog his mind, holding the same hope he does that perhaps some of these things will be like a well-placed kick to Robbie's machinery, jostling something back into place that will return it to working order.

But she's left it to him, lately, seeming to perceive that the things returning to him are leaving him uncertain and unsettled. Or at least, she's tried to. Her inquisitive nature seems to eat at her for a week before she finally gives in, looking to him in clear interest.

"Have you remembered much more?" Zelda asks, the curiosity in her bright eyes shadowed only by a faint hint of apology.

Are her eyes blue? Or brown? Were they ever blue or brown? Her emerald-green gaze is making him hesitate, because no, of course they were never another color. The idea is absurd, and he doesn't like that it lingers in his mind for so long.

He doesn't want a wrong sense of déjà vu with her. This is Zelda, the Zelda of now, the princess of a broken Hyrule and the survivor of a calamity. This is a Zelda long removed from the days of Hylia and the first hero. If he is a hero of anything, it's of a grown-over wild, a land where grasses spring up in fallen garrisons and every breath of wind carries the scent of old rains and new flowers and ancient wisps of forgotten memories.

He doesn't want to remember others. He doesn't want to recall lives that aren't his own. The Zelda here is her own, and he is his own—their world may be old, but to them it is something new, and he wants desperately to see it through the eyes of someone who has never lived before.

He can't really answer her question. So he gives her a thin smile, and hopes she can see the look in his eyes and understand.

Perhaps he's clinging too fast to hope, but she seems to.

When he hands her the cooking ladle and the long-awaited meal he's prepared after a long and hungry day, a funny little smile crosses her face, like she's remembering something, too.

"Thanks, Link," she says, and her voice is only a little bit teasing. His heart tugs oddly in his chest, but somehow, he can tell that she feels it too. "You are the hero of Hyrule."

#breath of the wild #botw fanfic #legend of zelda #loz #zelink #fanfiction #I would like to thank Tumblr for letting me copy and paste rich text from AO3! I cannot emphasize how wonderful that is.#most times I need to manually re-add italics courtesy of my writing app not letting me do that #so that was the easiest experience ever. Five stars; would crosspost fics to Tumblr again #Anyway this was a piece I started WAY back after I finished BOTW for the first time #I was late to the party for the first game but I'm currently loving the sequel too!#Time will tell if it can beat that wonderstruck feeling Breath of the Wild gave me though. What a huge world! So bittersweet and lovely 😭#new writing game just dropped: go write a sentence in your WIP every time you recognize a reference to another LoZ title in this fic #anyhow tag rambles aside; I hope you enjoy! <3 #link #zelda #basil writes

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