RabbitChaser [CYOA]

this is probably a good time to do another one of these since the end of mine is rapidly approaching

Make a really big stack of books resembling a cliff and then jump off. Preferably onto a beanbag chair.

Build a barricade. Of books.

That's what I was thinking, yeah.

---

An idea comes to you. You're carrying a box full of books. Extremely full, in fact. Why not put them to good use?

What if you were to spread the good word of reading? Perhaps you could build a great and impressive structure?You're thinking a literary barricade of literature. Something that will truly show the power of the written word and prove to people how important books are. Ooh, or maybe a magnificent fort. A truly impressive and impregnable structure that will stand as a monument to the power of knowledge. Something about how fact makes you a true fortress of productivity and creativity.
But no, that's no good either. You need something truly grand. Something that'll make international news. A true first. Something that will make your name and the name of the library truly go down in history.

Ah well, the fort will have to be good enough.

But as you start to take books out of the bag and stack them together, something begins to dawn on you. It's about thirty books in when you suddenly realize that the wall you're building is beginning to collapse in on itself and form a mound that vaguely reminds you of a cliff.
By Jeeves, that's it! You'll build a giant cliff of books and leap off it! That's sure to get you on the news. This new goal implanted clearly in your mind, you begin madly taking books out of the box and throwing them on top of the great stack that you're determined to form. Passers-by stop and begin to stare, perplexed and amazed by both your accuracy and the number of Shakespeare plays and Ellen Hunt biographies that were tucked into the cardboard box you carried just a mere few minutes before, and were anyone to take the time to ask you would proudly take up a first edition copy of The Silence of the Lambs, toss it over your shoulder to the top of the pile, and explain how back in your school days you were a champion book tosser. They all laughed at you. Said that training superhuman aim with a book would never be a skill that you'd use. WELL WHO'S LAUGHING NOW, JEFFERY?

Slowly but surely, the books pile up. The whole street's been blocked off by the forming mountain, and news cameras and helicopters have arrived to capture the story of the man standing atop a mile-high pile of books with naught but patience and a cardboard box, impossibly full of hardcover editions of Putting on Sandals For Dummies. But it's still not enough. Slowly, ever growing higher, the hours turning on, you still add to the pile with undiminished purpose. And as the sun slowly dims in the sky across the horizon, so far below you now as you stand high above the city skyline, you turn your sights above. There is your goal. The true goal of every Ameri-Ire-Brit-Russian man. That silver giant alone in the night sky, the moon.

You're not sure just how long you've spent up here, but you know it's worth it. You've hardly slept, not eaten at all, but it's all worth it. And finally, one last Oxford English dictionary set in place, you reach up and brush the surface of the moon.

It's a lot smaller than you thought it would be.

Oh well. Whatever the size, you've made it. You're now ready.
As you step off the edge, you know the cameras below are still watching. And, the icy wind filling your hair before slowly but steadily progressing to a cartoonish ring of fire, you know this is the moment that your life has always been working towards.

You've aimed carefully, falling towards the old abandoned beanbag factory. It's a building that's always stood out, mainly because of the lumpy shape it took on early in construction, and even from the edge of space you can still recognize easily the sight of cotton-stained smokestacks and the large pile of rejected cushiony seats in back. But sadly, while you're a genius book engineer and a master of the throw, physics was never your strong point.
Your body impacts the cushions, and in an instant you lose consciousness. It's not exactly a bad way to go, all things considered, but in the aftermath of your fall the crater left, full of bits of fabric, pretend beans of plastic fiber, literal beans, and a handful of small marbles, decimates most of the factory. This isn't particularly a great loss, since the building had been decommissioned and set for demolition for years, but it means that your body is never found. Some take this as a great loss, some as a sign. Your story spreads over the world, repeated and discussed for years to come, and a number of small churches are formed to worship the great power of books. Sadly, you can't be there to see it. But you've fulfilled your goal, and made a mark on the world that will last for millennia to come.

In the end, in the moments before your impact you only had one last regret.

You never did remember your name.

info: Simulation ended with result <death>. (death, success)
...graveyard is being updated…
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:: Create new random simulation? [Y/n] y
info: Generating simulation…


You are an art student living in California. You've been living in California for a while now, come to think of it. So far the day's started like any other day, but as you slip your shoes on you wonder if perhaps you should start something new. Find a way to break from your routine.

What is your name, and just what are you going to do today?

Top 10 Raddest Anime Deaths

Your name is Artie, and you will embark on an epic quest to find Leonardo Da Vinci's lost works.

Your name is Leo and you will fulfill your dream of being an actor.

Each of them are marked with an otherworldly energy signature (that to human eyes looks like the aurora borealis), and are guarded by an automaton guardian.

They require cheat codes to activate.

...I don't think you wanna know how they were marked.

Your flashlight pierces the darkness.
Your flashlight slashes through the darkness.
Your flashlight beam slices through the darkness like a sword.
Your flashlight beam darts into the alleyway (that's it!), allowing you to venture into its depths.

Retrieving your trusty 43-lumen LED flashlight from the pocket of your trousers, for you never leave home without a flashlight and a pint of lemonade, you focus the beam to "lazor sword" mode. Not that it's actually called that, of course, you just always thought it sounded cool. The decal of a lightbulb glows faintly as the intense beam shines over it, but otherwise fails to do anything interesting. Probably one of those reflective paints you've heard about.

Shrugging this off, for it wasn't actually that strange, you shine the flashlight through the hole in the brick wall, only to find that it's illuminated nothing on the other side except an almost textureless floor. Odd. You wave the light about, going so far as to shift the intensity from "lazor sword" to "camp floodlight", but it seems almost as though there's nothing but raw ground and void on the other side.

Oh well.

Given that you've come this far, you don't feel much like turning back. If you don't press forwards, you'll never find the secrets of Da Vanchu! Stepping into the void, you feel almost like you've walked into a thick fog, but it doesn't feel any different than normal air. Your flashlight cuts through the darkness in front of you but illuminates very little, giving you the feeling of being in a room full of nothing. It's sort of hard to see where you're going, but as you put one foot in front of the other and the portal back to the world you know obediently falls a few steps behind you, you feel as though there has to be something you can do...

Demand that the cartoonist draw a fitting backround. dropping you into a blank, black canvas like this is just lazy!

Keep walking until you find something. Throw in a few acrobat flips to spice things up.