Chapter III: Knock, Knock, Knocking...

The story so far…
Ellis Cobalt, after finding themselves at a murder scene with no memory of how they got there or whether they even did the murder, ended up in a full on fire fight with almost an entire robot police force, before killing an innocent detective and finally taking on some kind of giant special weapons police robot. Shot half to death, their memory resetting itself every few minutes, their behaviour… erratic at best, Ellis Cobalt is not in a good state. Right now they are lying on the floor of the elevator on the verge of death. The elevator has moved, but I’m afraid poor Ellis doesn’t even have enough semblance of memory to ask why it happened.
So, hello! Sorry about the delay this week. Now that Ellis has escaped the apartment of the late Clagg Mastodon, and no longer has a whole robot police force chasing him down, I’ve had a chance to really open up the world. Once Ellis leaves this elevator they will find themselves in a rich and vibrant new world full of opportunity, mysteries and essential information about the world Ellis lives in and the larger mystery they don’t even realise exists yet. I’ve spent all week writing scenery descriptions, character back story and vital snippets of dialogue. I am prepared. I am ready for anything.

You are now chatting with a total stranger! Say something interesting other than: ASL?
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Stranger: M
You: You have no memory of how you got here, what you’re doing, or even who you are. All you know are your surroundings. In one hand you’re holding a notebook that reads TAKE LOTS OF NOTES. YOU DIDN’T KILL HIM. YOU DID KILL THE DETECTIVE GUY. From the bulges in your coat pockets it seems you’re carrying a bunch of other stuff as well. That’s not really important right now though because frankly, you’re pretty messed up. You’re standing, shakily, on the (admittedly, plushly carpeted) floor of an expensive looking elevator, you’re riddled with bulletholes and you seem to have a whole bunch of wires, fibre-optics and circuit boards spilling out of the places most people keep their guts. Also, you’re in SO MUCH PAIN. I don’t see a huge number of options here, but what do you want to do?
Stranger: Asl
You: You're speaking to an empty elevator. Nobody answers.
Stranger: Exctli correct
Stranger: Then who r u?
You: I am narrating.
Stranger: M taking notbook
Stranger: As u say
Stranger: Wats ur name?
You: I'm not really here, I'm an abstraction that allows you to understand what you are hearing, seeing and feeling. What do you want to do next?
Stranger: Ok...then tell me...wat d nxt?
You: You tell me. What would you like to do? You're pretty messed up.
Stranger: Noting....now i dont knw
Stranger: U say?
You: I can't really make suggestions.
Stranger: Ur gender?
You: You ask the elevator what it's gender is. It doesn't respond, because it is an elevator.
Stranger: Oooo realli
You: Really.
Stranger: M also a elevator
You: Wow. Whatever just happened really has messed you up. You seem to believe you're an elevator.
Stranger: Great
You: As an elevator, what would you like to do?
Stranger: Dont bore plzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz......if u hv smthng intrsting ....then say
You: Maybe you want to try to get out of the elevator?
Stranger: Yea
Stranger: Plz u shold also out frm elevator
You: You get to your feet, it hurts and you have to old your guts, or wiring, or whatever, in with one hand. You see your reflection in the doors.
You: Your reflection is that of a tall and lean figure of indeterminate gender, wearing a long beige raincoat. You are completely hairless. You also notice that your skin is wearing a little thin in places. Around your otherwise exquisite cheekbones the colour has begun to wear away revealing the grey organi-plastic underneath. And of course, you're swiss cheesed with bullet holes and have a tonne of wiring on the outside that you're pretty sure should be inside.
You: There's a button by the door.
Stranger: N m not hairless
Stranger: Sri
Stranger: Wat u say.......i cant understnd
You: That's what your reflection looks like. If it doesn't look familiar that makes sense- your memory isn't what it was. What do you want to do?
Stranger: I wanna killu
Stranger: Kill u
You: Also, the lack of hair, it has to be said, is less worrying than all the bullet holes.
You: You wave your hands around at something that isn't there. It has no effect. The button by the door is green. And flashes.
Stranger: R u mad?
You: I'm not the one riddled with bullet holes waving their hands around at a narrative abstraction in an elevator.
Stranger: I ask some questuion....rpli plzzzzzzzz
Stranger: Plzzz...no more rubbis
Stranger: Plzzz

I honestly wasn’t expecting this to be a huge challenge. But here we are.

You: What would you like to know? I can tell you anything about your surroundings, situation and options.
Stranger: Where i m?
Stranger: In one word
You: An elevator.
You: A lift if you're British.
Stranger: Wat i wear?
You: You're wearing a shirt, trousers and a brown raincoat, all which are ripped up and riddled with bullet holes.
Stranger: Wat u wear?
You: I am not there. I am merely a disembodied voice describing everything that happens.
Stranger: R u a girl?
Stranger: Yes or no
You: The narrator's voice has no gender.
Your chat has been disconnected. Click here to chat again.

This is Ellis Cobalt’s eternal problem. They haven’t only lost their memory. They’ve lost their very nature. And there is no way to tell what they will turn out as next…

You are now chatting with a total stranger! Say something interesting other than: ASL?
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You: You have no memory of how you got here, what you’re doing, or even who you are. All you know are your surroundings. In one hand you’re holding a notebook that reads TAKE LOTS OF NOTES. YOU DIDN’T KILL HIM. YOU DID KILL THE DETECTIVE GUY. From the bulges in your coat pockets it seems you’re carrying a bunch of other stuff as well. That’s not really important right now though because frankly, you’re pretty messed up. You’re standing, shakily, on the (admittedly, plushly carpeted) floor of an expensive looking elevator, you’re riddled with bulletholes and you seem to have a whole bunch of wires, fibre-optics and circuit boards spilling out of the places most people keep their guts. Also, you’re in SO MUCH PAIN. I don’t see a huge number of options here, but what do you want to do?
Stranger: Hola
Stranger: No comprendo
You: That is understandable. It's a pretty intense situation.
Stranger: Q estas en una situación intensa...?
Stranger: Spanins
You: No recuerdas cómo llegaste aquí, lo que estás haciendo, ni siquiera quién eres. Todo lo que sabes es lo que te rodea. En una mano usted está sosteniendo un cuaderno que lee TOMA POR LOTES DE NOTAS. NO LO MATASTE. MATASTE AL INDIVIDUO DETECTIVO. De las protuberancias en los bolsillos de su abrigo, parece que está llevando un montón de otras cosas también. Eso no es realmente importante ahora, porque francamente, estás bastante desordenado. Usted está de pie, tembloroso, en el piso de un ascensor caros, usted está plagado de bulletholes y parece que tiene un montón de cables, fibra óptica y placas de circuito que se derrama fuera de los lugares La mayoría de la gente mantiene sus tripas. Además, estás en TANTO DOLOR. No veo un gran número de opciones aquí, pero ¿qué quieres hacer?
Stranger: I am from colombia
You: ¿Qué vas a hacer?
Stranger: Jejeje pues desapareser
Stranger: Tu eres hombre o mujer
You: No puedes desaparecer. Estás atrapado en un ascensor.
Stranger: Pues armado o sin armas
You: En sus bolsillos encuentra un arma. Tiene "Turing" escrito en el barril. 
Stranger: Jajaja no te entiendo tu q harias
Stranger: ....?
You: Puedes mirar alrededor del ascensor. Puedes examinar tu reflejo en la puerta. Puede ver un botón verde parpadeando junto a la puerta.
Stranger: Botón de salida o q la verdad no te entiendo lo q me quieres decir
Your chat has been disconnected. Click here to chat again.

Colombian Ellis Cobalt came close to pressing the button and getting out of the lift, but unfortunately disconnected at the last second. When Ellis’ personality next rebuilt itself, they were speaking English again. Unfortunately their go-getting attitude had disappeared with the Spanish language….

You are now chatting with a total stranger! Say something interesting other than: ASL?
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You: You have no memory of how you got here, what you’re doing, or even who you are. All you know are your surroundings. In one hand you’re holding a notebook that reads TAKE LOTS OF NOTES. YOU DIDN’T KILL HIM. YOU DID KILL THE DETECTIVE GUY. From the bulges in your coat pockets it seems you’re carrying a bunch of other stuff as well. That’s not really important right now though because frankly, you’re pretty messed up. You’re standing, shakily, on the (admittedly, plushly carpeted) floor of an expensive looking elevator, you’re riddled with bulletholes and you seem to have a whole bunch of wires, fibre-optics and circuit boards spilling out of the places most people keep their guts. Also, you’re in SO MUCH PAIN. Your finger is hovering over the button for the doors. I don’t see a huge number of options here, but what do you want to do?
Stranger: M
You: What do you do next?
Stranger: I'd go back to sleep

I mean it. There's some really cool stuff outside this elevator.

Stranger: Probably I'm dreaming
You: You drift off and have a really nice dream about some electric sheep. When you wake up you are lying on the floor of the elevator, and still riddled with bullet holes
Stranger: I should stop doing drugs
Stranger: *thought in my head*
You: It's possible drugs led to this. Or getting shot. Your memory is a total blank, so any theory is valid at this point.

You get to see a giant mech at one point. I mean, I don't want to give too much away, but we definitely see one.

Stranger: I'm just horny
Stranger: You got anything for me?
You: I'm afraid the lift is empty apart from your bullet riddled body.
Stranger: A picture could be fine..
Stranger: I don't expect a human
You: If being in critical condition after multiple gunshot wounds is your thing, you are getting your rocks off big time.
Stranger: Haha lol

There's also a mysterious figure from Ellis's past who has some important information.

You: There is a digital camera in your pocket.
Stranger: You still didn't answer my questions
Stranger: Any pictures
You: You want to check the camera?
Stranger: And I want to see the pics you sent
Stranger: Come one
You: The camera has no photos on it.
You: Sorry.
Your chat has been disconnected. Click here to chat again.

And so we leave Ellis, for now, lounging across the floor of the elevator, very slowly dying and not seeming that bothered about it. We’ll visit them again next week and see if they’re feeling more active.
There is some really cool stuff on the other side of that elevator door.

Chapter II: I Came Here to Kick Ass and Use Punctuation Correctly

You: What do you want to do? The sirens are getting closer.
Stranger: Sex
Stranger: What you wanna do?
You: There could not be a worse time for that. You’re armed and surrounded by shitted up police robots, and the only other person around is a guy in a suit who it looks like you've beaten up.
Stranger: Well there is to be a girl for sex
You: There are definitely none of those around here.
Stranger: Your m or f
You: The guy in the suit is male. Also old, and kind of unconscious.
Stranger: Well I didn't ask about the old guy 
You: He's the only one here.
Stranger: I asked about the person I'm talking too 
You: Well, aside from you, smashed up robots and the unconscious old guy, there isn't really anyone to talk to.
Stranger: Well bye then
Stranger: Because im not really gay
You: That, believe me, is the least of your obstacles.
Your chat has been disconnected. Click here to chat again.

The Story So Far: Ellis Cobalt was a war veteran, genius, super strong robot and the best goddamn PI in Utopolis. Unfortunately, due to a chain of unknown events, they have had their memory wiped and have come to standing in an expensive apartment with a dead guy, a gun, and nothing to speak to their innocence except a note that says “YOU DIDN’T KILL HIM”.

To make things worse, for some reason every few minutes Ellis’ memory completely resets itself, and their personality is forced to reconstruct itself from the ground up, with… unpredictable results.

So far Ellis has made a full and detailed exploration of the apartment’s 3D food printer, tried and failed to masturbate, and robbed the dead guy’s credit card (ignoring the important and essential clue in the dead guy’s hand).

Then the police arrived, and Ellis went on to gun down a small army of police bots before discovering our hero's gun couldn’t harm humans. So they knocked the human detective out.

Of course, right now Ellis Cobalt doesn’t remember any of this…

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!

You: You have no memory of how you got here, what you’re doing, or even who you are. All you know are your surroundings. Your surroundings are pretty alarming. You are standing in front of a pile of woodchip that used to be a pair of double doors, and around you are scattered the remains of a small army of police robots. In amongst the massacred machinery is an older gentleman in a suit, who’s groaning and trying to move. Behind you is the absolute height of deluxe penthouse apartments. In one hand you are holding a smoking pistol with “TURING” written along the side. In the other you are holding a fistful of kitchen knives, for some reason. Oh, and you can hear approaching sirens. Good luck! What do you want to do? 

Stranger: Hmmm

You: The sirens are getting louder. You want to have a look around? Check your pockets? Or something else?

Stranger: Survey the area?

You: You’re standing in a vast, expensive looking apartment, all white furnishings and floor to ceiling windows with one way glass. To your west a French door leads out to a balcony with a crystal clear outdoor pool, the rush hour traffic hovering in an aerial queue above and below it. To the east is a large table with an intricate looking architectural model on top of it. To the south, in front of you, is a busted door and a pile of dead police robots, as well as an injured guy in a suit. And to the north, behind you, is a dead body. Looking around you can also see, a kitchenette, several large bookshelves, and open doors to the bedroom and bathroom.

Stranger: Hmmm, out to balcony 

Stranger: What floor?

You: You step out onto a balcony long enough to house a crystal clear Olympic swimming pool. The French doors close behind you, and from the outside appear to be a wall of mirrors. An endless stream of traffic is flying overhead. Beyond the edge of the balcony only a few distant sky needles rival your own building in height. The real shock comes when you look into the pool however. The glass bottomed pool reveals an impossibly sheer drop, and far, far below you can see the distant pin pricks of buildings that might once have been considered skyscrapers themselves, gathering around the base of the tower you are standing in. 

You: You don’t have much time to enjoy this view however, as a pair of large police cars, with what look like cannons poking out of the side, are flying down towards you, a squadron of police bots hanging from beneath the chassis of each one.

Stranger: What floor am I on

You: The top floor. I couldn't tell you the number, but it's in triple if not quadruple digits.

Stranger: Hmmm, ok backtrack inside, turn stove burners on high, open oven, turned on, but with pilot light out, scurry into hallway, to laundry chute

Stranger: Jump in, slide down carefully several floors, changing clothes out of the dirty oned

I like a player with initiative, but our hero unfortunately hadn’t scoped out their surroundings quite enough…

You: Great plan, but the small but expensive looking kitchenette doesn't have a stove. Only a 3D food printer

Stranger: Interesting then stop up toilets sinks, light cigarette to sprinkler system

Stranger: Or some other flames

Stranger: Setting off the alarms to be a distraction

You: It works! There's now water showering down everywhere around you. The large building model on the table seems to flicker and vanish momentarily. Looks like it's a hologram and the water's interfering.

What? The large architectural model I keep mentioning is a hologram? How mysterious and probably relevant…

Stranger: Same plan snaking down

You: You find a laundry basket, but no chute.

Never mind.

You: The guy in the suit has got to his knees by the door. "Ellis!" he croaks. "What the Christ are you doing?"

Stranger: Fine, maintenence shafts then

You: A thorough survey of the flat shows two ways out- the front door, and the balcony, where even now the police cars are starting to land.

Stranger: Interrogate man

You: What do you want to ask?

Stranger: What in the fuck happened?

Stranger: And why are the authorities en route

You: “You're asking me that? We got a call saying shots fired, came down and you started shooting up the joint soon as we came through the door!”

You: He stands up. "Where's Clagg, Ellis? Where's Clagg Masterdon?"

Stranger: Perfect. How the fuck should iknow

Stranger: Reaches into pocket. Looks for id

You: "Because you're his goddamn bodyguard!"

You: Your pockets contain a digital camera, an ID badge that reads NAME: Ellis Cobalt PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR’S LICENSE: 161228020382 And a notepad with two lines of text written onto the first page. First it says TAKE LOTS OF NOTES. Secondly it says YOU DIDN’T KILL HIM. 

You: There's also another ID for a guy called "Clagg Masterdon"- the photo resembles the dead body by the sofa. And a credit card in the same name. It says $6 trillion on the readout.

Stranger: Hmmm......takes note near light source, looks for pen/pencil indentations, in case there was another note

You: Clever. It looks like a brand new notebook. Paper's barely even creased.

I’m getting excited now. We’ve got a player who’s thoughtful enough to look for clues, who’s just put their hand in their pockets and pulled out all the clues they needs to get started, and they’re talking sensibly to the one character in all this who might listen and help. I’m actually worried they might resolve the whole plot before…

Your chat has been disconnected. Click here to chat again.

Never mind.

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!

You: You have no memory of how you got here, what you’re doing, or even who you are. All you know are your surroundings. Your surroundings are pretty alarming. You are standing in front of a pile of woodchip that used to be a pair of double doors, and around you are scattered the remains of a small army of police robots. A guy in a suit is looking at you expectantly. In your left hand is a gun with TURING written along the barrel, and an ID that reads NAME: Ellis Cobalt PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR’S LICENSE: 161228020382. In your other hand is a notepad with two lines of text written onto the first page. First it says TAKE LOTS OF NOTES. Secondly it says YOU DIDN’T KILL HIM, and an ID for a fat old guy by the name of Clagg Masterdon. What are you going to do?

Come on buddy. I know you’re disorientated but you’ve got all the clues you need right there. Just take a moment to think it through…

Stranger: shoot the nearest guy

You: You point your gun at the guy in the suit. It clicks uselessly. "My feelings are hurt," he says. "But seriously, you know Turing guns can't hurt humans, right?"

Stranger: btw, whose clagg masterdon

You: "Clagg Masterdon is the guy you're supposed to be the bodyguard for," the guy in the suit says. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Stranger: well, some bodyguards are perfectly down to earth, while others got some screws loose

It seems we’ve got ourselves a badass.

You: "I think I know what category you're in," the guy says. "How about I come in and we talk it over, and we don't bring down the army of police bots?"

Stranger: sorry dude, police bots just dont cut out for me. im in for flesh and blood. not cling amd clang

You: "I see," the guy says. "Look Ellis, I was hoping this could end peacefully. But if you want trouble..." he reaches for the inside of his jacket. "I bought some."

Stranger: yeah? u dont have to. bc im a real badass on my own

You: The guy in the suit pulls a gun. You see the word Turing written along the barrel. "Okay, you get one chance. Drop everything and kneel on the ground, and we'll talk this over like civilised people."

Stranger: civilizations has ended long ago. the irony to kneel when you weaklings have already bow down to these machines. I am not foing to be on th same level as you are

A philosophical badass. A philosophical badass who hates machines? Nice. Sure would be a shame if something… ironic happened to them…

You: The guy sighs and pulls the trigger. You feel a hard punch to the chest, and look down to see a neat round bullet hole. There are wires and sparks coming out of it.

You: "You're one to talk about machines, Ellis," the guy says. "That was a warning shot. Next time I shoot something important."

Stranger: told you im not going to go down like you

You: He shoots again, another hole opens in your chest. More sparks fly.

Stranger: the only importance within me is my core, it is corrupted enough, these bulletholes mean nothing

A dark philosophical badass.

Stranger: so is it my turn now?

You: What are you going to do?

Stranger: I stood up and disarm him. choking him next

You: You take him down easily, lifting him up like a ragdoll.

Sadly, this player’s disappointed by the arsenal I’ve put at their disposal.

Stranger: or maybe theres some high tech laser tht might fry him up

Stranger: or missiles. you never go wrong with them

By the way? Remember those police cars parking on the balcony?

You: There's a shattering sound, and suddenly a dozen police robots have ridden in behind you, like tiny tanks on unicycles.

Stranger: now this might go several ways. a roborevolution, or getting chased by other robots

You: "DROP THE DETECTIVE AND YOUR WEAPONS," the closest robot says. As a clue.

The player starts thinking through their situation and formulates a plan. A brilliant plan that absolutely will not work in any way whatsoever.

Stranger: since, as a robot, im already able to take actions on my accordance, the programmers think im virally infected. and theres a high chance of contaminating other robots since my wires are exposed thru the bulletholes

You: Is your plan to rub your exposed wires on the robots to infect them with a computer virus?

Stranger: not rub, but theres gotta be an open port somewhere

Why does it always seem to come back to that?

Stranger: the robots need an internal power source

You: "WE WILL OPEN FIRE ON THREE," the lead robot says. "ONE."

Stranger: kill tht guy. if they open fire he\'ll be dead anyway

You: How are you going to kill him?

You: "TWO."

Stranger: before count of three, breakout

Stranger: choking, laserbeams, electrocution, missiles, perhaps as a shield from those bullets

Stranger: the possibilities are endless

You: As you begin choking the man the bullets come flying. Within seconds you're getting swiss cheesed, having discovered you have a really disappointing lack of lasers. Your pistol takes down a couple of the robots, but you are forced out the front door onto the landing outside.

You: You step out onto a lavishly furnished corridor, with the sort of carpets that are expensive but not so expensive you wouldn’t mind the postman walking all over them. The corridor curves away in both directions.

You: There is a lot of gunfire.

Stranger: which way the corridor leads to?

You: You don't know. They lead away on a curve in both directions.

Stranger: well, just run either way.

You: You run down the hallway, passing occasionally opening, and rapidly closing front door. This is clearly a nice place, and it’s large, you’re running for a while. Eventually you reach a pair of sliding doors underneath an arch of wrought ironwork and gold leaf, just in case anyone mistakes this for the door to an elevator poor people might use. There’s a big green button to summon the elevator.

If a games master ever describes a button as “big” and “a bright colour that might appeal to a small child” they’re probably trying to guide you to something.

Stranger: but since im a robot, shouldnt the floorplan be mapped into my memory?

You: Your memory is wiped. At this point, I'd draw your attention to the notepad you've been holding.

You: How you held it at the same time as a gun and a detective (do you still have him btw?) is beyond me. But you're a robot.

Stranger: hes dead. so of no use anymore

Stranger: thrown him as distraction while running away

That was Detective Jack Haggart, a grizzled, no bullshit detective who had a long, sometimes friendly, sometimes adversarial but always respectful history with Ellis Cobalt. He was a stickler for the rules, but only because he cared about getting things right. He deserved better than this.

You: Okidoke. The robo-unicycles are in hot pursuit. What are you going to do now?

Stranger: okay, so the notebook. what of it

You: It's got two things written in it: "TAKE LOTS OF NOTES" and "YOU DIDN'T KILL HIM".

You: You also have a pen.

That pen is the single means Ellis Cobalt has of retaining information on a long term basis. It is less easy than I would like to persuade them of the importance of this.

Stranger: just keep running and hiding

You: You're at a dead end. The only way out is this extremely overpriced looking elevator door with the green button.

Stranger: there were rooms. so I couldve sneak back into one of them. hide, have the robots chase the elevator insyead

You: As soon as they see you coming people get inside and lock the doors. And these are the sorts of people who have door locks that can stop a rocket launcher.

Stranger: damn, then blast off a few robots and take the elevator to wherever

You: You press the button, and a "going up" arrow appears over the door.

Stranger: okay

You: The robots come screaming around the corner, guns blazing. How are you going to hold them off?

Stranger: just plain shooting a machine gun for now. I robbed it off someone while running just now.

Okay, that’s it. You kill Haggart and summon machine guns from nowhere, you’re going to get a boss fight.

You: You mow down the first lot easily. Then another comes trundling around the corner. It's bigger, bulkier, and the gun is... bigger. Much bigger.

Stranger: when will the elevator open up? if I can make it just in time would be very great

You: Looking at the sign it's about 60% of the way there now.

You: There's a high pitch rising sound coming from the big robot.

Stranger: then just keep on shooting, and throwing vases or ttash cans or whatever

Stranger: and gamma rays, robots gotta hv gamma rays

You: A deep red orange light begins to glow in the depths of the trashcan sized gun barrel of the robot.

You: 80%

Stranger: ill be able to make it just in time. so rn juat continue shooting

You: You punch a few holes in the robot. It doesn't seem to mind.

You: The light in the gun is getting brighter. 90%

Stranger: know where its shooting at

You: It's pointing right down the landing at you, at chest height.

Stranger: so, when it fires, ill be able to avoid

You: Maybe. The light is so bright it's impossible to look at now, the noise impossibly loud. What are you going to do?

You: 95%

Stranger: dude im a robot, I can withstand bright and loud.

You: You may not be able to withstand what comes next. 98%

Stranger: time to play dirty then. trip the unicycle robot off

You: You slide along the ground, kicking at the robot's wheel. It wobbles, then begins to fall over towards where you're now lying on the floor. With a ping the lift doors open.

Stranger: crawl into it quickly,before he tumbles down

You: As the robot tumbles over its gun goes off, creating a massive hole in the floor that it tumbles into. Looking down after it, you see it's falling a long, long way, past many, many floors. You scramble over to the lift before more backup comes.

Stranger: okay. thts a happy ending

Jack Haggart had three kids. Yeah, I just made them up, but that won't make Jimmy, Daisy and Byzantium any less sad when they hear he's dead.

It’s time to wrap up, but I feel like when Ellis next comes to- on the floor of an elevator, riddled with bullet holes, they’ll be owed a bit of an explanation about how they ended up there. So I give the player a nudge.

You: Not quite yet... you feel your memory beginning to fade. Want to write anything in the notebook?

Stranger: nothing, no notes yet as far, no any important memory since I woke up. maybe ill write iv killed who and whi

You: What will you write? Time is short, be quick!

Stranger: I killed the detective guy

You bastard.

So now Ellis Cobalt is on the run, with even less idea than before about why this is the case or what they can do to save themselves. Where’s the lift going? What will Ellis find there? And will they try to eat it, kill it, or rub their wires on it?

Find out next time, on Silicon Bullets!

Chapter I: Suspects Love Kitchens

So I’ve decided to run an RPG using random text chat sites Omegle and Imeetzu (for the record, Imeetzu has far less bots). It’s going well.

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
You: You have no memory of how you got here, what you’re doing, or even who you are. All you know are your surroundings.

You’re standing in a vast, expensive looking apartment, all white furnishings and floor to ceiling windows with one way glass. To your west a French door leads out to a balcony with a crystal clear outdoor pool, the rush hour traffic hovering in an aerial queue above and below it.

To the east is a large table with an intricate looking architectural model on top of it.

To the south, behind you, is a pair of expensive looking double doors made of real wood, that you suspect is where you came from.

And to the north, right in front of you, is a dead body.

Looking around you can also see, a kitchenette, several large bookshelves, and open doors to the bedroom and bathroom. One hand is holding something in your abnormally large pocket. The other is holding a pistol with the word TURING written along the barrel.
Stranger: How are you doing?
Stranger: You m or f?
You: You ask the dead body how it's doing, but receive no answer. Still, it appears to be male.
Stranger: Are you crazy?
You: It's unclear whose sanity you’re questioning. That of the person standing in a room talking to himself, or the body which is insanely dead.
You: What do you want to do?
Stranger: Are you saying you are m?
You: You're in an empty room. Apart from the corpse. The corpse definitely seems male.

Stranger has disconnected.

This is the story of Ellis Cobalt. Ellis Cobalt is a super strong, super intelligent android, a veteran of the Robot Wars and the best damn PI in Utopolis. Unfortunately an attack has damaged their positronic brain, and so every few minutes their memory is wiped and their personality is completely rebuilt from scratch. Like in Memento, or a really shit version of regeneration in Doctor Who, and with half the new personalities being those of spam bots or guys who want you to send them pics.

I have deliberately kept the scenario as a pretty straight forward one. If you’ve played DnD before or a point and click adventure it’ll probably take you five minutes to find out who you are, who the murder victim is, and how the murder went down, as well as giving you evidence to clear your name.

It’s not going to go down like that.

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
Stranger: Hello
You: You have no memory of how you got here, what you’re doing, or even who you are. All you know are your surroundings. You’re standing in a vast, expensive looking apartment, all white furnishings and floor to ceiling windows with one way glass.

To your west a French door leads out to a balcony with a crystal clear outdoor pool, the rush hour traffic hovering in an aerial queue above and below it.

To the east is a large table with an intricate looking architectural model on top of it.

To the south, behind you, is a pair of expensive looking double doors made of real wood, that you suspect is where you came from.

And to the north, right in front of you, is a dead body.

Looking around you can also see, a kitchenette, several large bookshelves, and open doors to the bedroom and bathroom. One hand is holding something in your abnormally large pocket. The other is holding a pistol with the word TURING written along the barrel.
You: It's a bad situation. You're in a room with a corpse, holding a gun, and no memory how you go there. What are you going to do?
Stranger: Drop the gun and run
You: Where to?
Stranger: Into the kitchen 
You: This is a kitchenette of the super rich. It has a half-stocked wine cooler, a 3D food printer and a disposal chute for the dirty dishes. Cutlery and plates are naturally printed with the meal.
Your chat has been disconnected. Click here to chat again.

We’re now going to learn an important lesson about human nature. If you give people a mystery to solve, and a 3D food printer, they’re going to play with the food printer.


You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
You: You have no memory of how you got here, what you’re doing, or even who you are. All you know are your surroundings.
You’re in a high tech kitchenette. This is a kitchenette of the super rich. It has a half-stocked wine cooler, a 3D food printer and a disposal chute for the dirty dishes. Cutlery and plates are naturally printed with the meal. You have something in your pockets. What do you do?
Stranger: Cool
You: You can leave the kitchen, look around, check your pockets, or anything else.
Stranger: Nice
You: You seem optimistic about your situation. What do you want to do?
Stranger: I would like to try that 3d food printer
You: What would you like to order?
Stranger: Cheese
Stranger: For my wine
You: The machine rumbles and groans and eventually a lump of cheddar is extruded from the machine.
Stranger: Amazing
Stranger: Any blue cheese in there too? I am heaving a hermitage 2006
You: The machine rumbles again, and this time disgorges a strong smelling blue cheese.
Stranger: Beautiful
You: What next?
Stranger: No i am ready to relax and enjoy my body
You: In the kitchen?
Stranger: Why not

I’m going to cut here, because this isn’t that sort of blog and I don’t want to have to add trigger warnings. But suffice to say the player soon discovers androids don’t have genitals. They disconnected very shortly afterwards.

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
You: You have no memory of how you got here, what you’re doing, or even who you are. All you know are your surroundings. You’re in a high tech kitchenette. This is a kitchenette of the super rich. It has a half-stocked wine cooler, a 3D food printer and a disposal chute for the dirty dishes. Cutlery and plates are naturally printed with the meal. Half a lump of foul smelling cheese and a half bottle of champagne are on the kitchen side. You have something in your pockets. What do you do?
Stranger: hey
You: Nobody answers. Not even the cheese.
You: What do you want to do?
Stranger: ok then… 
Stranger: ofc the cheese wouldnt answer, its cheese
Stranger: eat bare food innit 
You: If you like really strong cheese, this is good really strong cheese.
Stranger: like i have a food printer im gonna use that shit
You: What will you order?
Stranger: idk everything 
Stranger: id order a massive burger a milkshake fries 
Stranger: cake
You: A gigantic burger squeezes out of the printer, followed by a delicious looking fruitcake.
Stranger: thats a very imaginative story tho 
Stranger: nah fam fruitcake is kinda shit uno 
Stranger: what about chocolate cake?
You: A chocolate cake rolls out of the printer.
You: It is delicious.
Stranger: ty
You: What next? Check your pockets? Leave the room?
Stranger: yh i think ive had enough to eat 
Stranger: id probably then try find out wtf is going on 
You: You leave the kitchen and find yourself in a vast, expensive looking apartment, all white furnishings and floor to ceiling windows with one way glass. To your west a French door leads out to a balcony with a crystal clear outdoor pool, the rush hour traffic hovering in an aerial queue above and below it. To the east is a large table with an intricate looking architectural model on top of it. To the south is a pair of expensive looking double doors made of real wood, that you suspect is where you came from. And to the north, right in front of you, is a dead body.
You: On the floor by your feet is a gun.
Stranger: hang on is this a zombie apocalypse?
You: There's an awful lot of cars flying past the window for the apocalypse. But your memory's gone. Maybe zombies can drive flying cars now.
Stranger: ayt fuck this shit ive got all this rich ppl shit like im set for life
Stranger: so im staying inside
Stranger: like blocking everything up 
Stranger: and just living in this big ass house
You: Maybe. Unless all this belongs to that dead guy on the floor.
Stranger: oh well hes dead inni what am i supposed to be doing 

Stranger: just kidding thats kinda mean

I’ve got to admit, I warmed immensely to this player just because they worried about being mean to a fictional dead guy.

Stranger: well if it belongs to him ill pick up the gun
Stranger: check the guys pulse and see if hes got a heartbeat 
You: The gun fits well in your hand. The word "TURING" is written along the side. You pocket it.

You: The body is that of a middle aged, overweight white guy, the same one that appears in a bunch of the flickering digital photo frames you can see around the room, shaking hands with the sorts of people that look like you want to be photographed shaking hands with them. He has three gunshot wounds in his chest, and blood has formed a wide, sticky black-red pool around him. He’s clutching something in his hand.

At this point the player has a theory. I like the way he thinks.

Stranger: is this guy donald trump?
Stranger: coz if he his his fat ass is getting thrown over the balcony
You: He doesn't look like Donald Trump. Well, not much like him anyway.
Stranger: oh ok he can stay then
You: So, you're in a room with a dead body, no memory, and you've got a gun. Honestly, I'm just the narrator, but it doesn't look great.
Stranger: oh shit i fucking killed the guy
You: Maybe. You don't remember.
Stranger: whoops
Stranger: yh good point 
You: Do you want to check your pockets?
Stranger: yh might aswell
Stranger: might find something
You: Your pockets contain a digital camera, an ID badge that reads NAME: Ellis Cobalt PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR’S LICENSE: 161228020382 And a notepad with two lines of text written onto the first page. First it says TAKE LOTS OF NOTES. Secondly it says YOU DIDN’T KILL HIM.
You: There is also a pen.
Stranger: can i check the dead guys pockets aswell coz he might have some money in there uno
Stranger: wait it says i did it or i didnt?
You: Didn't.
Stranger: oh good 
You: The guy's pockets contain an ID that says he's called Clagg Masterdon, and a credit card with $6 trillion on it.
Stranger: ayyy yesss im rich boys
You: What next?
Stranger: spend it 
Stranger: fuck it im rich now

Sadly, Ellis Cobalt’s enjoyment of the high life is about to come to a violent end.

You: There is a polite knocking at the door. Swiftly followed by somebody shouting “Open up! Police!” 
Stranger: this money is all mine im set for life im building a bat cave and hiding from zombies
Stranger: oh fuck its the feds
Stranger: does he have a panic room?
You: You can look. From here you can see the bathroom, bedroom, a table with a huge building model on it, and the balcony. Where do you want to go?
Stranger: hang on i have a gun
You: You do.
Stranger: let the police come at me 
Stranger: ill fucking shoot them
You: The expensive wooden doors shatter and the room is invaded by what looks like a dozen unicycles being ridden by shiny blue tanks with POLICE written along the side in alarming white letters. A man with a face that looks like Mount Rushmore before the chiselling began walks in. He’s wearing a rumpled grey suit and is holding a gun with TURING written along the barrel. “Freeze!” he shouts. 
Stranger: how many bullets do i have?
You: Strangely enough, the clip seems to renew itself.
Stranger: oh sick 
Stranger: right the feds are getting fucked over
Stranger: like im gna shoot them all
Stranger: and then im gna take all their resources
Stranger: like theyre unicyles and shit coz it might come in handy
Stranger: then thrown them off the balcony along with the dead guy coz hes bringing me a lot of trouble rn
You: You fire off randomly, and the unicycles go down, exposing robot innards. But then you reach the guy in the suit and the gun just clicks uselessly.
You: "Come on Ellis," the guy says calmly. "You know Turing guns can't hurt humans."
Stranger: throw the gun at him 
Stranger: wait wtf 
Stranger: ayt imma go batman on his ass
Stranger: im gna try and beat the shit out of all of them
You: You knock him down easily, he's tough, but old, and you do seem preternaturally strong.
You: You can hear distant sirens, there are more cops on the way.
Stranger: oh ffs 
Stranger: ayt imma take the police`s guns and shoot them all 
You: All of the guns have TURING written along the barrel. If they send any more humans, you're fucked.
Stranger: oh wow 
Stranger: this guy must have more weapons in his house
Stranger: at least a baseball bat
Stranger: acc nah i dont need that
You: You search the apartment, but the guy doesn't seem to have any guns.
Stranger: get a bunch of knives from the kitchen and throw them at the ppl
You: You've now got a bunch of knives, a gun that can only shoot robots, $6 trillion, a notepad and a digital camera. You hear more unicycles coming down the corridor.
Your chat has been disconnected. Click here to chat again.

This player clearly knows when to leave a good cliff hanger. So, poor Ellis is no closer to finding out who killed Clagg Masterdon or getting away from the murder scene, and now the cops are coming in force. Still, $6 trillion dollars though.

Will Ellis escape? Will they find out who murdered Clagg Masterdon? Or will they just try and wank in the kitchen again?


We will continue Ellis Cobalt’s adventures next week or when I find time/am bored.

Read Part II here!