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File 124933552156.jpg - (63.34KB, 640x480, showdown.jpg) [iqdb]
17136 No. 17136
Greetings.

Having observed the workings of /forest/ for some time, it is my intention to add mine own words to the swirling sea of CYOAs. Stylistically, I don’t intend to do anything nearly as elaborate as Meister Norseman or his ilk. Still, I hope that you will look favourably upon mine attempts to sate your touhou-related literary hunger.

Nota bene: while I am not averse to write-ins, I reserve the right to refuse them. Just so that you won’t be enraged by me possibly stonewalling you.




Darkness. Comfortable, protective darkness envelops you in its warm embrace.

Time unknown has passed by the time this darkness is intruded upon by the outside world. The first thing you become aware of is motion; you find yourself being propelled in a jerky but rhythmic pattern. Next your senses tell you that this motion is of your own making—you’re walking forward at a brisk pace. No, wait, not walking… marching .

Shortly thereafter, your ears inform you that you are alone, yet surrounded by nature—the chirping of birds, the droning of cicadas, the soft whispering of trees in the wind accompany the sound of your heavy, tramping footsteps.

Finally, almost begrudgingly, as if that comforting darkness was clinging to you like a child to a departing parent, your vision returns to you. As you suspected, you’re in a forest, populated by mighty-looking trees that extend upwards like an endless, defiant sea of nature’s own Towers of Babel.

Spotting movement in the foliage up ahead, you come to a halt, not exactly knowing why you had continued your march ‘til this point. You feel yourself only mildly surprised when a handful of child-sized creatures clad in dresses woven from materials of the forest burst out onto your path and begin to zip around you in a reckless formation.

Despite their innocuous appearance, you have the strange feeling that they could be dangerous, if only in the manner of a child thoughtlessly hurting a pet. Sure enough, one of them sends a sloppy stream of luminescent projectiles flying your way, which merely end up blowing small holes in the ground courtesy of your attacker’s poor aim.

A twofold desire to fight rises up within you—on the one hand is the ancient, deep-rooted desire for violence amongst humans, which now flares up at the prospect of violence. On the other hand is a caustic feeling of indignation: who are these wee creatures to attack you? All the glowing lights in the world aren’t going to save them from your wrath. Yet, there is a distant part of your mind pleading with you to flee—after all, you are in a strange place with no recollection of how you got there, facing hostile entities you don’t understand.

You draw a deep breath and open your mouth wide, crying out…

[ ] “I will fight you.”
[ ] “RIP AND TEAR!”
[ ] “God save the Queeen!”
[ ] “Ulster!”
[ ] “Say hello to my little friend.”
[ ] “Blood for the Blood God!”
[ ] For the Glory of Japan!”
[ ] “MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA.”
[ ] “Fuck this, I’m out of here!”

--------------------
Pic related, it's pretty much how this showdown feels.
Expand all images
>> No. 17137
[X] “Fuck this, I’m out of here!”

Advancing in the opposite direction.
>> No. 17138
No offense meant, but I'm not going to call it until I get at least one more vote it.

It wouldn't be any fun to have a one-man audience, now, would it?
>> No. 17139
[X] “Fuck this, I’m out of here!”
>> No. 17140
“Fuck this, I’m out of here!” You shout at the strange creatures floating before you.

In a split second the roaring fires of your fighting spirit are extinguished as you turn tail and run. Fighting bizarre little sprite-creatures is not your thing. In fact, it’s the exact opposite of your thing. Fleeing, now that’s your thing. Taking off in a sprint, you manage to put quite some distance between you and your attackers before their angry cries tell you that they’re giving chase. Barely slowing down, you go through as many narrow gaps in the vegetation as possible, using the forest’s growth as a shield.

To your satisfaction, you hear the sound of bark splintering and leaves being kicked up, but never once close enough to you to cause concern. Risking a quick glance over your shoulder, you see that your enemies have dispersed and are trying to track you through the forest, with little success. Congratulating yourself on an escape well made, you look forward again just in time to see the low-hanging branch that puts your flight to an abrupt and painful stop, complete with a sickening crunch as your nose rearranges itself on your face.

With a wordless yell you fall to your knees, dazed and confused. All of your cunning evasion is undone by that yell, and your pursuers quickly find you and take out their earlier frustration on you.

If it’s any consolation, you were excellent target practice for the fairy-youths until your head exploded.





Rollback and choose new option?
>> No. 17141
[X] Back one.
[X] "... so cute! Come here you!"
[X] These things are adorable. Charge the nearest group and capture them for snuggles.

It's what I would do. Maybe.
>> No. 17142
You feel a girlish blush spread into your face as a delighted scream escapes your lips.

"So cute~!"

Skipping like a schoolgirl, you make your way over to the one nearest you, which is clad in a leaf-adorned gown. Already surprised, the fairies become flabbergasted when you grab one of their own and cuddle it.

"Awwwwww~" You say dreamily, all thoughts of violence forgotten as cradle the wee little creature against you.

Suddenly the foliage to your right explodes as one of the fairies fires a warning shot. Apparently the others aren’t taking too kindly to your cuddling of their comrade, though she doesn’t seem to mind, having snuggled up against you. What shall you do?



[ ] Stay the course! Continue snuggling. Your love will win this battle!
[ ] Gently set the fairy aside and run for your goddamn life.
[ ] Fling the fairy at her compatriots and try to fight them.
→ Use your bare hands. It worked for Bruce Lee, right?
→Find a weapon. That should even the odds.
[ ] Genuflect.
>> No. 17144
[x] Stay the course! Continue snuggling. Your love will win this battle!

Go go go.
>> No. 17145
[X] Stay the course! Continue snuggling. Your love will win this battle!

I fucking love fairies.
>> No. 17146
Ignoring the attack, you continue to snuggle the fairy, cooing gently as you do so. The creature looks up at you with a childish smile of delight on its face. “Awen’t you just da most pwecious widdle faiwy evew? Yes you are! Yes you are!” You say as you begin to slowly sway back and forth in a calming fashion.

You can all but sense the other fairies drawing closer, perhaps to deliver an up close blow, or to participate in the snugglefest that is currently underway. Regardless, you continue your antics until the fairies have you surrounded and are watching you intently.

Slowly, one by one, they break from their formation and hesitantly join in, creating one giant snuggling pile with you at its epicenter. It is pure bliss as you feel many tiny bodies press against you in a loving embrace. Inner warmth as you have never before known envelops you.

For how long this continues, you do not know, but slowly the fairies disentangle themselves from your embrace and continue on their way, with the very first fairy even giving you an adorable little kiss as she departs.

You feel all warm and fuzzy inside for a moment before your stomach angrily announces its displeasure at the lack of sustenance offered up to assuage its divine wrath. Whew, how long has it been since you last ate?

Glancing around the forest, you see three distinct paths out of the clearing that has just been the stage of the most adorable scene ever. Which way shall you go?

[ ] Go hither.
[ ] Go thither.
[ ] Go yon.
>> No. 17150
>As you suspected, you’re in a forest, populated by mighty-looking trees that extend upwards like an endless, defiant sea of nature’s own Towers of Babel.

Wait, what?
>> No. 17151
>>17150
The Tower of Babel is a biblical story which tells of how humanity tried, in their arrogance, to build a tower to reach the heavens. God got pissed off at their pride and so scattered them across the world.

Even Nobody has his writing gimmicks.
>> No. 17153
[X] Go yon.

It is different sounding, and therefore interesting.

Though not as interesting as fairy snuggles.
>> No. 17154
>>17151
Don't forget confounding their tongues. Anyway, I think the confusion was over how nature, acknowledged in most religions as a creation of God, can be defiant of same.

[X] Go yon.

THADAWAY
>> No. 17157
>It is different sounding, and therefore interesting

You have no idea~

------------

Shrugging, you make your way along the path of choice, figuring any of the three to be just as good-- or bad-- as the others.

After a few minutes' wandering, you find yourself in a clearing, surrounded by potential foodstuffs. Off to your right you can see bushes filled with ripe, luscious berries. To your left, a patch of edible-looking mushrooms beckons you with its fungal goodness. Directly above you, a branch extends itself, almost as if offering the juicy, crimson apples hanging from it.

Your stomach grumbles with renewed vigour.

What shall you do?

[ ] Berries, of course. They look delicious.
[ ] Mushrooms, because fungi don't get enough love.
[ ] Apples, because the only poisoned ones are in fairy tales.
[ ] Scavenge around for something else. Something seems off about those other three choices.
>> No. 17158
[X] Scavenge around for something else. Something seems off about those other three choices.

This is fairytale land. Apples may well be poisonous. The other two just aren't trustworthy.
>> No. 17159
[X] Mushrooms, because fungi don't get enough love.

'Shrooms, man, 'shrooms.
>> No. 17160
>>17158
I like your reasoning.
>>17159
I like your reasoning too.

But what I would really like is a tie-breaker. Nobody hates favoritism.
>> No. 17161
[X] Scavenge around for something else. Something seems off about those other three choices.
>> No. 17162
You look at the berries for a moment, then decide against that course of action—they could be poisonous after all. The same goes for the mushrooms, and even if a pleasant hallucination were included, you’d still be poisoned. The apples… You frown slightly in puzzlement. There’s absolutely no reason to doubt the apples, but your gut (not to be confused with your stomach, which is telling you to eat everything in sight) says that something isn’t quite right with them.

Making your way off the path, you begin scavenging for other sources of food. After wandering about aimlessly for a while, you hear the sound of running water up ahead. Following it, you come to an idyllic stream—crystal clear water, fish swimming and all that jazz. The other visitor to the stream, however, is less than desirable.

Not twenty feet from you stands what has to be the biggest bear in existence. If all men were like Paul Bunyan, all bears would be like this one. It looks like it could fit your torso into its mouth with little difficulty, or if it needed to just crush you to death with its massive bulk.

And worst of all, it’s looking right at you.

Thinking quickly, you

[ ] Run away! Run away!
[ ] Salute the bear respectfully.
[ ] Genuflect.
[ ] Play dead.
>> No. 17164
File 124934845887.png - (184.58KB, 330x300, blz13.png) [iqdb]
17164
Ladies and gentle/m/en, I suddenly have a most dastardly idea. It's so crazy: it might just work.

[JE] Salute the bear respectfully. If he does not salute back, kick Kuma "Paul Bunyan" the Bear in his manly beary nether regions before running like a man possessed. A meal you shall not become this day.

Hey, we need some kind of distraction, and FYI, a bear will run down a human just about any day of the week. It is why it pays not to miss your shot with your weapon of choice. If he sees you, it's probably too late for warning shots. Kill him before he kills you. He'll break every bone in your body, no sweat.
>> No. 17165
[JE] Salute the bear respectfully. If he does not salute back, kick Kuma "Paul Bunyan" the Bear in his manly beary nether regions before running like a man possessed. A meal you shall not become this day.
>> No. 17166
>gentle/m/en
You sound a little lost.

[X] Play dead.

Because that's what you're supposed to do with bears.
>> No. 17167
>>17151
I'm perfectly aware of the story, and even if I were not I could google it; I'm confused as to why you would make such an unearthly metaphor.
>> No. 17168
>>17167
Damned if I know. It just came to me. Anyhow...

-------------


“G-greetings to you, good sir!” You manage to say to the bear as you snap a salute.

The great ursine beast looks at you strangely, refusing to return the salute. Not even a nod of acknowledgement for your efforts. How rude! Your gentlemanly pride bristles at this insult, and before you know what you’re doing you find yourself stomping over to the bear, removing one of your white gloves and throwing it at the animal’s feet.

“How dare you disrespect me, brute?” You say, standing up straight and looking the bear in the eye (or trying to, at least, it is a rather tall bear) “For this you shall feel my wrath—I am mankind, witness my might!” Then in a most ungentlemanly way you aim a quick kick at its groin, praying that this bear shares the same weakness as all males do.

Your kick lands, but the great beast seems unhurt, albeit extremely annoyed. With a roar that turns your blood to ice water, it brings its massive paws down on your head with enough force to turn it into a fine jellied substance.

Just before the fatal blow lands, however, you have an epiphany.

“Oh, damn. This is a mama bear.”





Rollback and Continue?
>> No. 17169
Ack, too bad. Guess this is going to be one of those more traditional CYOAs. Hmmm. Here's another crazy idea.

[JE] Distract the bear by using your awakening quick draw, bare-handed fishing skills to snatch a cod out of the creek and hurl the easy meal at the creature. Grab a rock if you miss a fish. Something. Anything. Then, RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY! Climb up the tallest tree you can find, if you have to. Just get away from the bear.
>> No. 17170
Please excuse an intermission while I acquire food.

Nobody needs to eat, after all.
>> No. 17174
>>17164
>>17169

God damn it J, you are just stupid as hell.

[X] Just back away slowly, please. Back, back, back into the woods.

Bears are opportunistic omnivores, and favor easier targets over larger targets. If we display that we will run away or put up a fight at all, it's likely that the bear will just turn back to the fish because they're easier to catch and require less effort.
>> No. 17177
[x] The not-retarded option. ( >>17174 )
>> No. 17178
You realize that the only way to defuse this situation is with a peace offering. What would a bear accept as a peace offering? Money? No, bears aren’t familiar with currency. Clothing? No, this bear is far too large to wear any of your clothes. Undying love? No, just… no. Food?

Yes, food will work. A bear that large must require a lot of sustenance to function, and being large as it is, it probably isn’t quick enough to catch small prey. Bears like fish, you remember vaguely, and you’re right next to a stream. Wait, you don’t have a fishing pole or a spear. You’ll just have to do it with your bear hands. It can’t be that hard, can it?

Moving slowly to the stream’s edge with the bear tracking your movements all the while, you calmly kneel down by the water and look into its depths. The bear stands motionless, observing this strange human that has entered its domain. Suddenly, in a flash of lethal movement, your hand shoots beneath the water’s surface—success!

You withdraw your hand, a gasping, wriggling trout (or at least you think it’s a trout) clutched tightly in your fist. In a single, smooth motion you spin and hurl the fish at the bear with accuracy and speed that would bring manly tears of joy to a Major Leaguer’s eyes. The bear, accepting your peace offering, opens its gaping maw wide and swallows the fish in one gulp.

With an inscrutable expression on its face, the bear gives you a meaningful look. You slowly turn away and make your way back to the forest clearing, feeling a bit more enlightened about this strange land you’re in (though no less hungry).

Your stomach, sensing that the danger of mauling is past and that the only concern now is starvation, resumes badgering you. So hungry…

[ ] Eat the berries.
[ ] Get them mushrooms.
[ ] An apple a day, etc. etc.


And that, good sirs, is all for tonight. I’m sorry that we couldn’t continue, but tomorrow will bring with it new ideas and (hopefully) more creative sparks for me.

Sorry for overriding the two votes that you guys gave, but I'm about to fall asleep in my chair. Didn't want to spend any more time away from my soft, warm bed... Good night.
>> No. 17179
[X] Get them mushrooms.

Fuck yeah, wild mushrooms.
>> No. 17181
Back to this, are we?

[X] An apple a day, etc. etc.

Mushroom Samba will obviously lead to meeting Marisa. The berries seem like a decent way to meet Alice, and her deliciously adorable dolls. The Three Mischievous Faeries live in a tree, so eating apples seems like a way to meet them.

This is perfectly logical.

Let us become an excitable schoolgirl once again. Rather than fighting or romancing touhous, we will spend our time dressing them up and gushing over how cute they are.

Fashion Designer of Gensokyo, coming soon.
>> No. 17182
[X] An apple a day, etc. etc.
>> No. 17184
[x] An apple a day, etc. etc.

I doubt that we know which mushrooms are deadly and which not.
>> No. 17185
[B] An apple a day, etc. etc.
>> No. 17187
You lick your lips at the thought of biting into one of those juicy, plump apples. Since you don’t have a wicked step-mother, you can safely assume that the apples will be poison-free. Grabbing one of the low-hanging branches, you go through the routine familiar to everyone who had a proper childhood: tree-climbing!

Moments later you’re perched on one of the branches, stretching out a hand to snatch the tasty goodness of a particularly large apple. Grasping it, you give a swift tug and grin hungrily at your prize. Holy Granny Smith, Batman! The apple is perfect—not a single abrasion nor irregularity on its surface.

Biting into it, you feel your entire being flooded with goodness. Ah, the simple wonder of nature’s bounty, untainted by meddlesome human hands! Briefly, you toy with the idea of composing a poem, but discard the idea—you’re still hungry, damn it. You gather some more apples, each one more delicious than the last, to satisfy yourself.

With the last apple stripped to the core, you rub your belly contentedly as you toss what remains of the fruit from your perch. You nearly lose your balance, however, when, instead of the quiet thump of the apple core hitting the ground, your ears are met with an aggravated cry of “Hey! Who’s up there? What are you doin’?!”

Glancing down from your perch, you see a black-and-white-clad figure below; immediately, your eyes are drawn to the large, conical witch’s hat perched on her head and the hand-made broom clutched in her left hand. Even aside from that, her appearance is peculiar: a heavy black vest over a “poofy” white shirt, with a semi-frilly work apron tied over a thick black skirt. Her golden-eyed face is framed by a confused mop of blond hair, done up on one side into a long, thick braid. She’s glaring up at you expectantly.

[ ] “What you you doing?”
[ ] “Sorry about that. Want an apple?”
[ ] “Burn the witch!”
[ ] Genuflect.
[ ] Custom (because I know you crazy kids want to).
>> No. 17188
>>17181
Embrace your inner schoolgirl, my son, for she shall lend you power unimagined.
>> No. 17189
[x] "Eating!"
>> No. 17191
[X] "Eating!"
[X] "Do you want one?"
[X] "I like your hat."

It's all big and conical.
>> No. 17192
[X] “Sorry about that. Want an apple?”
>> No. 17193
[X] “Sorry about that. Want an apple?”
>> No. 17195
Poll's closed. Writing commencing.
>> No. 17196
“Sorry about that,” you mumble, following up with a peace offering “Want an apple?” It worked with the bear, after all. Even if this girl isn’t (you hope) a bear, it should work with her, too.

The girl’s expression shifts from irritation to suspicion “How do I know you didn’t do something weird to it? I mean, you look like a bit of a weirdo.” You pause for a second, then take a bite out of the apple you’re holding. Talking past a mouthful of fruit you manage to say “Are you satisfied?”

Immediately, the girl brightens, grinning as she replies “Alright! Toss me an apple, weirdo.” You pluck one from a nearby branch and carefully throw it to her, which she deftly catches and bites into. “So, why are you hanging around in a tree throwing discarded fruit at passing maidens?” She asks blithely, wolfing down the apple with unladylike ferocity.

[ ] “I don’t see any maidens.”
[ ] “I was hungry and the apples looked oh-so-appealing.”
[ ] Shrug.
[ ] Custom.

And:

[ ] Climb down.
[ ] Stay in the tree
[ ] Invite her up into the tree.
[ ] Custom.
>> No. 17197
[x] “I don’t see any maidens.”
[x] Stay in the tree

Pretty obvious.
>> No. 17199
[X] “I don’t see any maidens.”
[X] Invite her up into the tree.

Heh.
>> No. 17200
[x] “I was hungry and the maidens looked oh-so-appealing.”
[x] Invite her up into the tree.
>> No. 17201
>>17200
There will be no cannibalism in this CYOA, young man.

Anyway: writing underway.
>> No. 17204
“Oh? I don’t see any maidens.” You say, looking off into space in mock-thoughtfulness “Awww, you’re a mean weirdo.” The girl pouts, before her face is split by a mischievous grin “Maybe I should blast some respect into you!” Looking down at her, you stick out your tongue and blow a rather energetic raspberry in response. “Oh-ho! The weirdo stands his ground. Alright then, get ready for a lesson from Marisa, the beautiful and talented magician of the Forest!” She announces, throwing out her right hand and sending a stream of glowing projectiles right at you.

Uttering a surprised yelp, you instinctively pull away, upsetting your already precarious balance on the tree branch. With another cry, you tumble from your perch, slamming into another branch on the way down before an abrupt, jarring impact with the forest floor.

Gasping quietly, you struggle to get your unresponsive diaphragm working again, all thought of the girl’s retribution gone from your mind. After a few excruciating moments, you feel your breathing unsteadily resume.

“Hey, are you alright?” A worried voice ventures. Glancing over you see the girl—Marisa—now moving towards you with a look of concern on her face. Taking a few deep breaths, you reply

[ ] “I’m fine, just gimme a second.”
[ ] “No, I’m not too good.”
[ ] Custom.
>> No. 17205
[x] "Nope. I think I deserve some compensation."
>> No. 17206
[X] "What, you want to kiss it better?"
-[X] "Though, to be honest, I'd prefer that from a fairy."

Yep.
>> No. 17211
[X] "Nope. I think I deserve some compensation."
- [X] Pucker your lips at her exaggeratedly.
>> No. 17212
Alright, writing now...
>> No. 17214
Groaning pitifully, you put on your best 'hurt puppy dog' look, and mutter "N-no... but you could make it better..." You look into her eyes "...with some compensation."

So saying, you pucker up your lips and crane your neck forward. "Wh-what?" She stutters, staring at you for a long moment before finally mumbling her assent "F-fine... but only if you close your eyes." She blushes deeply "It's my first."

Closing your eyes in compliance, you eagerly wait for the press of flesh against flesh...

And wait...

And wait...

And finally open your eyes just in time to get a facefull of bristles from the business end of her broom, accompanied by her gleeful cackling. Sputtering angrily, you scuttle backwards on your read, wiping the taste of dirt from your mouth. "That wasn't funny." You mumble darkly.

"You really are a weirdo, you know that?" She says, grinning. In spite of this, she offers you her hand, which you accept, hoisting yourself to your feet. "So, Mr. Weirdo, do you have a name?"

"Of course," You reply "my name is..."

[ ] Custom only.
>> No. 17217
[x] Bob the Weirdo.
>> No. 17220
[x]Bob.
[x] Friends call me "Weirdo."
[x] "I like your hat, lady."
>> No. 17232
[x]Bob.
[x] Friends call me "Weirdo."
[x] "I like your hat, lady."

i laughed.
>> No. 17235
[x]Bob.
[x] Friends call me "Weirdo."
[x] "I like your hat, lady."
>> No. 17239
For some reason, you briefly feel a compulsion to claim that your name involves a color of some kind... but really , what kind of sick parent would name their child Bob Grey? And why not a more happy color, like Pink? Or something more esoteric, like Vermillion? Honestly!

"The name's Bob." You say "But my friends call me 'Weirdo'." She grins "I can see why."

"So, you're... Marisa, right? Nice hat." She smiles-- honestly smiles -- and removes the hat, which you note has been doing a commendable job of keeping the rest of her golden locks contained, and offers it to you "Wanna try it on?". Seeing you hesitate, she adds "It won't bite, Weirdo."

Despite her assurances, you have the strange feeling that this hat is more than it seems-- and even if it doesn't bite, it could still suck your brain out of your ears, or put you under some kind of mind control.

[ ] Try it on.
[ ] Politely decline.
[ ] Custom.
>> No. 17244
[x] Try it on.

Marisa's hat is god-tier amongst touhou hats.
>> No. 17250
[X] Politely decline.
>> No. 17251
[X] Try it on.

This is Touhou. If we wear her hat, we gain her strength.
>> No. 17252
[x] Try it on.
>> No. 17257
Writing commencing.
>> No. 17260
Gingerly grasping the magician’s hat, you explore the material with your hands. It’s soft, but quite durable, if you’re any judge. Flipping it over, you place it on your head and immediately feel…

Great! You feel like you could wrestle that bear from earlier to the ground and still have energy enough to skin and cook it. But more importantly you feel a sense of belonging—that this strange new world is better off with you in it, and you better off for being there. Taking a deep breath, you savor the scent of the forest air, the sound of the wildlife going about, the feel of the hat on your head, the sight of Marisa staring at you in bewilderment—“Are you alright, Bob? Sure you didn’t hit your head on the way down from that branch?” She asks cautiously.

“Never better!” You reply cheerfully, eliciting a baffled “Eh?” from your companion. “Well…” She clears her throat “…Can I have my hat back now?” You feel a moment of bafflement, as though she had asked to borrow your face, but it passes. “Oh. Right.” You mutter, returning the hat to its rightful owner. Despite removing the hat you still feel some of that vigour.

“Thanks” She says, replacing it on her mop of hair “Anyway, your garb marks you as an outsider, Bob. I take it you don’t have a place to stay?” You shake your head, unprepared for her next question. “Wanna stay at my house for the night?”

That brings you to a stop—of all the weird stuff you’ve seen thus far, the thought of someone only a little bit more than a stranger offering to take you back to her house is very odd to you. “Uh… Sure. Sure! That’d be excellent.” You reply, glad to have met this girl by chance.

“Well then,” She says, mounting her broom “Follow me.”

[ ] Follow on foot.
[ ] Ask for a ride.
[ ] Custom.
>> No. 17263
[x] Ask for a ride.
>> No. 17265
[x] Ask for a ride.
[x]"Hey, Marisa... where can I get a hat like yours? It's great!"
>> No. 17269
Mph. Lazy Anons. Back in my day, we didn't have rides. We walked if we wanted to go to our witchy-girlfriend's hideout.

But anyway, no updates until tomorrow. Sleep beckons.
>> No. 17281
You moan pitifully, drawing an exasperated glance from Marisa. “What?” The magician says, glancing at you in mild annoyance. My moan again and gaze meaningfully at her, then at her broom, then at your feet. “Oh, right.” She says, seemingly unfazed by her own faux pas “Outsiders don’t fly, do they? Sorry ‘bout that. Hop on.” She scoots forward, giving you just enough room to squeeze onto the broom (which, you note, is a no more comfortable seat than most brooms you’ve encountered).

“Hang on tight, Bob.” She instructs, drawing her hat low over her face and leaning forward. You wrap your arms around her waist, figuring that to hold on in any other way would be risking this willful girl’s ire.

Then she kicks off and all thoughts of propriety leave your mind as every sense of self preservation screams at you to grab what you can and hang on for dear life. Leaning into her for better support, you happen to glance down and see the treetops zipping past you mere inches from your legs. “Isn’t this great?” Marisa shouts back at you, recklessly removing a hand from her broom to readjust her hat “This kinda feeling makes me wanna do a few flips and turns. How’d you like that?” A prouder man might have claimed that the noise you made in response was a simple grunt of dissent, but you’ve always been honest enough to admit that it was, in fact, a slightly restrained squeal of terror.

“No? Fine.” She says, sounding not the least bit dissatisfied “Well, try not to puke all over my dress—we’re gonna be at my house in just a minute or two.” Clinging to that like a shipwrecked sailor to a piece of flotsam, you manage to hold together until her haphazard landing nearly sends you tumbling from your precarious perch atop her broom.

Staggering off, you fall to your hands and knees, waiting for your nausea to pass. Taking a deep breath, you rise to your feet and follow Marisa, who’s beckoning you with a barely suppressed grin, towards what you surmise is her home. You find yourself admiring the simplicity of it: a white, two-story Victorian (you think it’s a Victorian—you were never particularly inclined towards architecture) with a small porch and a balcony.

Following Marisa’s lead, you enter the house and are immediately assailed by the indoor/outdoor discrepancy. The place is a mess! Piles of books crowd the hallways, occasionally interrupted by various doodads ranging from a small wooden carving of a star to a gold-inlaid drinking cup to a moose-head trophy that, you swear, seems to be grinning at you.

“Anyway.” Your gracious host says, kicking aside a burlap sack filled with who-knows-what “You’re looking kinda crappy. Want a cup of tea? Maybe a bath? Something to eat?”

[ ] “A cup of tea.”
[ ] “A bath.”
[ ] “Food.”
[ ] “Sleep.”
[ ] Custom.
>> No. 17284
[x]"Got any alcohol?"

It's drinking time!
>> No. 17285
[x]"Got any alcohol?"
>> No. 17286
If Anon wants Bob stinkin' drunk, then Anon shall have Bob stinkin' drunk.

Writing now.
>> No. 17288
You briefly consider her offers; you’ve still got enough apples in your belly to skip food, you’re not in the mood for a bath and you’re too energetic to go to sleep. But a drink? That could be good. “Well” You reply “would you happen to have anything stronger than tea hereabouts?” Marisa flashes you the grin that you’ve come to associate with her.

“Now you’re talking!”


An hour or so later, the two of you are sitting around her kitchen table, somewhere between ‘tipsy’ and ‘drunk’. “An’ then she-“ Marisa interrupts herself to take another swig of sake “-Reimu, she accuses me an’ Alice of screwing up the moon.” You find yourself giggling for no apparent reason at this turn in the plot. “Wha-whasso… So funny?” Marisa says, before promptly dissolving into giggles herself. Taking a moment to collect what thoughts she still has, she segues into another topic.

“I think you’d like Alice… ‘cuz yer both weirdoes!” Hooting with laughter at her own observation, she continues “Tha’ doll-girl needs ta get out more often, y’know? She’s always cooooooped up in tha’ co… cottage of hers.” Standing up somewhat unsteadily, you place one foot on a stool (nearly missing the rung at first) and strike what you hope is a heroic pose “Then we’ll get this goll-dirl… Er, doll-girl to come and have some fun with us!” Removing your foot from the stool, on the advice of some distant part of your mind not clouded by the spirits, you walk over and sit down next to Marisa, clinking glasses with her to a toast of “To fun!”

This continues for a while before the two of you, merrymaking finished, stagger off to bed. Unfortunately, your hostess neglected to show you to the guest room, so you make your way along one of the house’s hallways (occasionally regaining your balance with the help of a nearby stack of books). Finding a door that looks promising, you open it, take a few steps inside, and collapse.

[ ] 1
[ ] 2
[ ] 3
>> No. 17292
[X] 7

Seven never failed to dissapoint me.
>> No. 17294
[X] 2

A sexy number, not as much as three, but that's just asking too much.
>> No. 17295
[X] 2
>> No. 17296
[JE] 8

Because it's symmetrical.
>> No. 17297
>>17296
>>17292
Right, stop that! It's silly.

Anyway, 2 has been chosen. So it shall be.
>> No. 17299
[X] 7
>> No. 17303
>>17299
I SAID STOP THAT!

Just for that, no updates til tomorrow.

In before "Hooray!"
>> No. 17304
[X] "One, Two, Five!"
"Three, sir!"
[X] "Three!"
>> No. 17307
>>17303
I came too late for voting and besides, every other story allows such things.
I voted 7 because i dont want 1,2 or 3 and of course to give you a challenge.
>> No. 17316
>>17307
I muchly prefer such challenges when it's due to a "real" write-in, if you know what I mean. Still, I appreciate the sentiment.

--------------

Your sleep is pleasant and dreamless, and when you finally awaken, you find yourself rejuvenated. Surprisingly, despite your drunken stupor and your hostess’s oversight, you seem to have found the guest room without any trouble. You are in a large-ish bedroom, slightly less cluttered than the rest of the house, lying on a surprisingly well-maintained bed (in truth, you expected the thing to be half-decayed due to poor maintenance on Marisa’s part). Based on the sunlight filtering in through one of the room’s windows, you judge it to be mid-morning.

Sitting up, you stretch out your arms and back, yawning slightly. A grin passes over your face as you recall the events of last night: the drinking, the story-telling, the merrymaking. Soon, however, you feel the approach of a vengeful hangover, and decide that going back to sleep is the better part of valor. Returning your head to its previous position, you allow yourself to be lulled towards sleep by the morning tranquility, the softness of your bed, the warmth of the room, the gentle rising and falling of your pillow…

Wait, what?

Struck by this oddity, you sit bolt upright and slowly turn around, filled with apprehension. Just as you feared, that was no pillow you were resting on. Lying there, dress slightly askew, snoring peacefully, is Marisa. Worse still, her faint stirring gives you the feeling that she’s mere moments away from waking up! Acting quickly, you…

[ ] Leave the room as fast as possible.
[ ] Hide under the bed.
[ ] Custom.
>> No. 17318
[x] Crouch under the bed, hold your head and cry.
>> No. 17319
[X] Her sight is based on movement. Stay still.
>> No. 17320
[x]Stare at her face. Utter "Hey beautiful~" as soon as she wakes up.

I'm Bob. Bob the weirdo.
>> No. 17321
[x] Snuggle.
>> No. 17323
[X] Snuggle.

We have established that this is our main form of self-defense.
>> No. 17325
Alright, if Bob thinks he can overpower the Magician of Love with a sneak attack Snuggle...

Writing now.
>> No. 17329
File 124967925085.jpg - (39.03KB, 462x600, 6a00d83451fc5a69e200e55070c0758833-800wi.jpg) [iqdb]
17329
>> No. 17353
Never mind. I got dragged out to a concert by some friends and now I'm too bloody tired to attend to this.

Sage for lazy writefag.
>> No. 17356
>>17353
bob the builder is sad
>> No. 17373
So, thus far we've gone from Bob the Schoolgirl to Bob the fashion designer to Bob the builder? I get the feeling that this guy is going to have a real problem holding a steady job in Gensokyo.

-------------

…You unleash your inner schoolgirl. A faint blush spreads into your cheeks as you cuddle up to Marisa, wrapping your arms around her waist as that same inner warmth as you felt with the fairies returns to envelop your spirit. So soft! So good!

This contact serves to hasten Marisa’s awakening; muttering groggily, she sits upright, yawning and stretching her arms. Made aware of your weight, she glances over at you, rubbing her eyes, and then stares, uncomprehending, for a moment. “Hi~!” You say, the channeled schoolgirl managing to creep into your voice.

“Gah!” She yelps, instinctively lashing out with a fist and connecting solidly with your face. You grunt in pain, but stubbornly hang on—the way of the Snuggle knows not defeat!

“Get offa me!” She yells, grabbing your ears and giving a sharp tug “Who the he—Oh!” She stops suddenly, her memory finally catching up to her well-honed instinct to attack anything in sight. “Bob?” She mutters in disbelief “What are you doing…?” “Snuggling.” You reply flatly, an idiotic grin plastered to your face.

She stares at you in bafflement for a moment before her speech faculty recovers from the confusion “Weirdo.” She mutters, trying to disentangle herself from your arms “Mind letting me go?” You hesitate for a moment before reluctantly withdrawing your arms—the time for snuggling, regrettably, has passed. Scooting backwards off the bed, Marisa brushes herself off and straightens her dress before gesturing you to follow her.

She leads you through a hallway as cluttered as the rest into the house’s kitchen. “I dunno about you, but I’m hungry. You want anything to eat?” She asks, to which you nod eagerly; what kind of delicious cooking would Marisa lovingly make for you on this fine morning?

Your thought is soon answered by a bowl of porridge sprinkled with a very conservative pinch of cinnamon, mirroring Marisa’s own breakfast, which she devours with gusto. You sigh slightly as you begin to dig in. Unsurprisingly, it’s quite bland.

“Anyway” Marisa muses between mouthfuls of food “What am I gonna do with you? Introduce you to Alice? Take you to the human village? Hog tie you and throw you to the forest youkai?”

[ ] “I’d like to meet Alice.”
[ ] “I’d like to visit the human village.”
[ ] “I’d like to see what you can do with a rope.”
[ ] Custom.

--------------------------

There probably won't be any updates for the rest of today-- I have a long day ahead of me.

P.S. I had intended for "[] 2" to be an automatic Bad End, but Anon/Bob's unwavering love brought warmth to my cold, stony heart.

I salute you, good sirs, for your efforts.
>> No. 17375
[x] “I’d like to show you what i can do with a rope.”

There is always one more job for Bob to take.
>> No. 17376
[X] “I’d like to meet Alice.”

Doll snuggling.
>> No. 17378
Hmm, tough one...meeting Alice or a rope...

Eh why not
[x] “I’d like to see what you can do with a rope.”
>> No. 17379
[X] “I’d like to meet Alice.”

3 is sexier than 2.
>> No. 17382
[B] “I’d like to meet Alice.”
>> No. 17385
[X] “I’d like to see what you can do with a rope.”
>> No. 17399
[x] “I’d like to see what you can do with a rope.”

Nana to Kaoru has affected me
>> No. 17400
[x]I'd like to meat Alice.

Dohohoho.
>> No. 17402
[x]I'd like to meet Alice.
>> No. 17403
[x]I'd like to meet Alice.
>> No. 17409
[x] “I’d like to see what you can do with a rope.”
>> No. 17411
[x]I'd like to meet Alice.
>> No. 17421
Alright, calling it: Bob will meet Alice.
>> No. 17460
Sorry this took so long-- I was having trouble getting into the writing mood.

------

“Mmmmm… well, this Alice you keep mentioning seems like an interesting person.” You say thoughtfully “I suppose I’d like to meet her.”

“Be weird with her, you mean.” Marisa snorts “But I suppose it would be wrong to keep you two apart. You’d fit each other nicely. But more importantly you’ll be out of my hair.”

You give Marisa a hurt look “That’s terrible! What kind of hostess treats her guest like this?” She eyes you with mock coldness “The kind who doesn’t want any more surprise wake-ups.”

You feel yourself blush, though more from the memory of Marisa’s softness than from embarrassment. Mistaking your reaction for shame, she puts a hand on your shoulder in what is meant to be a comforting way “Hey, don’t worry about it. As long as you don’t do it again, I won’t feel the need to blast you.” She smiles “Fair enough?”

You nod your assent, at which she grabs you hand and leads you to the front door of the house “Time’s a-wasting, Bob, we’ve got to get you to Alice’s place!”


Another nerve-racking (though slightly slower) ride later, you find yourself dismounting with Marisa in front of another house hidden away in the woods. This one, however, is undeniably a ‘cottage’—it seems as if both the forest and the house were shaped to work perfectly with each other. The stone walls, the small chimney… It’s like something out a fairy-tale.

Immediately, you notice that a number of small dolls are busily moving about the yard: cutting the grass, washing the windows, putting laundry on a clothesline, and such like. “Welcome to Margatroid Estate.” Marisa says half-jokingly as she leads you to the entrance.

Pushing the door open, she announces herself with a shout of “You’ve got visitors, Miss Doll Otaku!”

True to Marisa’s stories, instead of greeting you in person, the mistress of the house sends out one of her dolls to you—a masterfully crafted one in a dark blue dress, head adorned with a red ribbon. The little doll acknowledges you both with a curtsy. The witch then leans in and peaks into the doll’s eyes as though looking into the peephole on a door “Alice, we’re comin’ in, ok?”

The doll hovers away from you, beckoning you both deeper into the house with a wave of her hand. Following the doll, you and Marisa are led through the house, which you note is a good deal bigger on the inside than it seemed, to a room closed off by a large, oak door. With strength belying her small stature, the doll pushes the door open and gestures for you to enter.

Stepping inside, your first impression is that of a study—the dim but sufficient lighting, the smell of old books, the lack of windows all give you the feeling that you are, truly, in the puppeteer’s lair. At the far end of the room, a girl is seated on a stool, facing away from you as she works diligently at some task, hunched over a workbench. “Alice~” Marisa says in a singsong voice, eliciting a quiet sigh from the girl.

Turning around, she stands up, giving you a good look at her. Medium length blond hair frames her slightly-pale face with its icy blue eyes; she is wearing a blue dress under a pocketed work apron and a pair of light boots. Her gaze is steady and neutral—neither welcoming nor rejecting you.

“Greetings.” She says, her voice soft yet clear. “I am Alice Margatroid, Puppeteer of the Forest of Magic.”

[ ] “Hello, I’m Bob, an outsider.”
[ ] “Hi, I’m Bob the Weirdo.”
[ ] Let Marisa introduce you.
[ ] Custom.
>> No. 17461
[x] “Hi, I’m Bob the Weirdo.”
[x] "Marisa is really soft, did you know?"
>> No. 17465
[x] “Hello, I’m Bob, an outsider.”
[x] "You're really good at doll-making."
>> No. 17466
[x] “Hi, I’m Bob the Weirdo.”
[x] "Marisa is really soft, did you know?"
>> No. 17467
[x] “Hi, I’m Bob the Weirdo.”
[x] "Marisa is really soft, did you know?"
>> No. 17468
[X] “Hello, I’m Bob, an outsider.”
[X] "Did you make all those dolls? They're so cute!"
[X] Gush on and on about how adorable her dolls are, and how cute their clothes are, and how well-made they are, and...

Schoolgirl.
>> No. 17469
>>17468
This.

[X] “Hello, I’m Bob, an outsider.”
[X] "Did you make all those dolls? They're so cute!"
[X] Gush on and on about how adorable her dolls are, and how cute their clothes are, and how well-made they are, and...
>> No. 17471
>>17461
>>17466
>>17467
Calling it.



P.S. I giggled.
>> No. 17478
[x]“Hi, I’m Bob the Weirdo. A Cuddlemancer”
[x]"Marisa is really soft, did you know?"

This story is officially Bro& approved.
>> No. 17497
“Hi,” You respond casually “I’m Bob the Weirdo.”

Alice looks slightly taken aback by your introduction, which you find strange—any friend of Marisa should be used to such things, right? On that note, you segue into another topic: “Marisa is soft—I mean really soft, did you know? I wouldn’t have thought it at first, but she is. Really soft.”

“Er, yes. She is rather soft.” Alice replies, apparently without thinking. Blushing furiously, she buries her head in her hands. You can hear Marisa behind you giggling madly. Taking a few deep breaths, Alice glares at Marisa “Sh-shut up! It’s not that funny.” She says, her face still crimson. In response, Marisa just goes from ‘giggling’ to ‘cackling’.

“And what exactly were you doing that let you figure out just how soft Marisa is?” Alice asks, giving you a suspicious glance. “Snuggling.” You reply nonchalantly. Alice’s gaze darts between you and Marisa “Oh my.” She says, putting a hand to her mouth “I didn’t realize that you were that kind of acquaintance.”

“Now hold on just a minute!” Marisa sputters, her laughing fit passed, “It isn’t like that and you know it!”

“Oh?” Alice responds demurely “I’m not so sure. I think I’ll have to speak with Bob to sort things out.” She turns to you “Would you like a cup of tea?”

You nod in the affirmative. “Very well.” She says, brushing past you both and exiting her study “Come along.”

You follow her along a short hallway (which, you note, is impeccably tidy) and into a well-furnished sitting room. “Shanghai.” She says, summoning the little doll to her side “Make a pot of tea for us.” The doll nods her assent and hovers away, into what you presume is the kitchen. Once the three of you are seated, Alice immediately directs a question at you: “So, Bob, how did you come to Gensokyo?”

“I…” You pause for a moment; how exactly DID you get here? “I walked.” You respond after a moment, figuring it’s the closest thing to the truth.

The puppeteer nods thoughtfully “So, you don’t remember seeing a certain… woman; about yea tall-” she gestures with her hand “-wearing an elaborate purple dress, a white hat and carrying a parasol.” You shake your head—you most certainly would have remembered such a distinct figure.

“Well, at least the Gap-bitch isn’t involved in this one.” Marisa mutters. Seeing your puzzled expression, Alice explains “The Gap-Demon, Yukari Yakumo, is one of Gensokyo’s residents, and has magical control of boundaries. She has an annoying habit of dragging Outsiders into Gensokyo, so when one of your kind shows up, it’s usually her doing.”


[ ] “Sounds cool! When can I meet her?”
[ ] “Sounds like trouble. So I should avoid her?”
[ ] Custom.
>> No. 17498
[X] "Did you make all those dolls? They're so cute!"
[X] Gush on and on about how adorable her dolls are, and how cute their clothes are, and how well-made they are, and...
[x] "Are you soft?"
[x] Snuggle Alice.

Bob the Cuddlemancer.
>> No. 17499
>>17498
I'm choking on my own laughter.

[x] "Did you make all those dolls? They're so cute!"
[x] Gush on and on about how adorable her dolls are, and how cute their clothes are, and how well-made they are, and...
[x] "Are you soft?"

But some personal space is needed, here.
>> No. 17501
[x] “Sounds cool! When can I meet her?”

While talking about dolls and snuggling is tempting...
>> No. 17502
[X] "Did you make all those dolls? They're so cute!"
[X] Gush on and on about how adorable her dolls are, and how cute their clothes are, and how well-made they are, and...
[X] "Are you soft?"
[X] Snuggle Alice.

More like Bob the Schoolgirl.

I'm half expecting to earn the nickname Snuggles.
>> No. 17503
[X] "Did you make all those dolls? They're so cute!"
[X] Gush on and on about how adorable her dolls are, and how cute their clothes are, and how well-made they are, and...
[X] "Are you soft?"

I can't help but see Bob as a huge flamer.
>> No. 17504
>>17503
I see him as being wide-eyed, impulsive and clearly unhinged, but in a harmless and oddly charming way, somehow. Kind of like a kitten that climbs up the curtains and jumps on your head.
>> No. 17505
[X] "Did you make all those dolls? They're so cute!"
[X] Gush on and on about how adorable her dolls are, and how cute their clothes are, and how well-made they are, and...
[X] "Are you soft?"

>>17504

I want to see Bob jump on Marisa's head like a kitten.
>> No. 17506
[X] "Did you make all those dolls? They're so cute!"
[X] Gush on and on about how adorable her dolls are, and how cute their clothes are, and how well-made they are, and...
[X] "Are you soft?"
>> No. 17510
>>17505
Dammit, now I'm gonna have to make Bob capable of splitting into dozens of little mini-Bobs so that he can do adorable things.

Anyway, ye vote has been called.
>> No. 17512
Just then, the doll from earlier floats in and sets down a tray with three cups and a pot of tea, pouring each of you a cup. “Well, my I ask you something?” You ask, steering the conversation away from what is an unpleasant topic, to which Alice nods. “Did you make all these dolls yourself?”

A flicker of pride crosses Alice’s features “Yes, they are all of my own making. In fact, when you came in earlier, I was in the process of making the latest batch.” The doll perches on her shoulder, allowing her to stroke its hair gently. “This is Shanghai—one of my special dolls. Unlike the others you’ve seen, I’ve granted her a sort of… ‘semi-sentience’, I suppose.”

“They’re so cute!” You spout happily “I mean, the detail you’ve put into them—it’s incredible! The dresses, too: they’re so pretty and fluffy! I wish we had more clothing like that where I come from, not all this denim and miniskirt nonsense. The old-fashioned look really suits them all, too, I mean it’s…”

After several more minutes of such your blathering, you’re cut off as Marisa shoves a tea cup into your mouth. “Shaddup, Bob!” She snaps, causing your spirit to sink. You inadvertently take a sip of the tea and immediately brighten up.

“Wow! This tea is simply wonderful! If tea like this wa-” You begin to babble again, before Marisa raises the violence level from ‘tea cup’ to ‘smack with a broom’.

Cringing, you rub a blooming bruise on the back of your head. “Geez, Marisa.” You whine pitifully. “Well, if you had shut up like I asked…” She mutters.

After a couple moments of relative peace, you glance over at Alice. “Ah, I forgot to ask…” You put your teacup aside and reposition yourself to kneel beside Alice’s chair “…Are you soft?

“Eh?!” Alice yelps, staring at you. “Are you soft?” You repeat.

She blushes furiously “W-well I suppose I am… Wait, this is terribly inappropriate!”

[ ] See whether she’s telling the truth.
[ ] Take her word for it.
[ ] Apologize for your rudeness.
[ ] Custom.
>> No. 17514
[x] "Marisa, you would know. Is she telling the truth? Should we test her out?"
>> No. 17515
File 125018311358.jpg - (57.15KB, 450x255, what-about-bob.jpg) [iqdb]
17515
Marisa and Bob remind me of this.
>> No. 17516
[X] See whether she’s telling the truth.

Snuggles.
>> No. 17517
[x] "Marisa, you would know. Is she telling the truth? Should we test her out?"
[X] See whether she’s telling the truth, regardless of Marisa's response.
>> No. 17518
[x] "Marisa, you would know. Is she telling the truth? Should we test her out?"
>> No. 17519
[x] "Marisa, you would know. Is she telling the truth? Should we test her out?"

I bet Marisa knows.
>> No. 17520
[x] "Marisa, you would know. Is she telling the truth? Should we test her out?"
>> No. 17527
[x] "Marisa, you would know. Is she telling the truth? Should we test her out?"
>> No. 17529
Alright, calling it.
>> No. 17534
You find her response troubling. If she’s soft, then she’s soft. What’s so inappropriate about that? You have a strange feeling about this.

“Marisa,” You say, turning to the witch “You should know if your friend is soft. Is she telling the truth? Should we test her out?”

Marisa barely suppresses a snicker as she replies “Oh, I dunno, Bob. Maybe you should check.”

You nod your assent; after all, if Alice isn’t lying, she won’t mind you checking, right? “Eh?!” Alice yelps as you wrap your arms around her midsection and begin to snuggle her. Immediately, you find yourself enveloped in a feeling of inner warmth as you press up against Alice’s body.

Great Caesar’s ghost! If Marisa was soft, then Alice is feather-like; never before have you felt such softness; indeed, it would seem that Alice was not lying when she spoke of herself. Moaning in pleasure, you cuddle up closer, eliciting an abortive shriek of surprise from the puppeteer. You can vaguely hear Marisa cackling in the background.

“A-alright that’s enough!” The soft girl shouts, attempting, unsuccessfully, to pry your arms from her body “Marisa, give me a hand here!”

Several moments later, she’s managed to extract herself from your grasp, much to your dismay, and is eyeing you angrily. “Why, I never! How dare you? I hardly even know you and you’re acting like THAT to me? What do you have to say for yourself?!”

[ ] “You were really soft.”
[ ] Apologize.
[ ] GENUFLECT.
[ ] Custom.
>> No. 17535
[X] "You were really soft, softer than Marisa! You're so lucky, you know? I bet a whole lot of people would love someone that soft!"
[X] "Ah, being so talented, being so soft... you're amazing! Really amazing! The best!"

I wish I had an Alice to snuggle.
>> No. 17536
[x] "You were really soft, softer than Marisa! You're so lucky, you know? I bet a whole lot of people would love someone that soft!"
[x] "Ah, being so talented, being so soft... you're amazing! Really amazing! The best!"
>> No. 17537
[X] "You were really soft, softer than Marisa! You're so lucky, you know? I bet a whole lot of people would love someone that soft!"
[X] "Ah, being so talented, being so soft... you're amazing! Really amazing! The best!"
[x] "Can we do that again later?"
>> No. 17538
[X] "You were really soft, softer than Marisa! You're so lucky, you know? I bet a whole lot of people would love someone that soft!"
[X] "Ah, being so talented, being so soft... you're amazing! Really amazing! The best!"
>> No. 17539
>If Marisa was soft, then Alice is feather-like; never before have you felt such softness
New goal: get Bob to Youmu. One snuggle and we'll attain nirvana and get to snuggle Iku and Tenshi.

[X] "You were really soft, softer than Marisa! You're so lucky, you know? I bet a whole lot of people would love someone that soft!"
[X] "Ah, being so talented, being so soft... you're amazing! Really amazing! The best!"
[X] "Can we do that again later?"

Strong-willed women are weak against earnest admiration.
>> No. 17541
[X] "You were really soft, softer than Marisa! You're so lucky, you know? I bet a whole lot of people would love someone that soft!"
[X] "Ah, being so talented, being so soft... you're amazing! Really amazing! The best!"
[X] "Can we do that again later?"
>> No. 17543
[x] "Sorry?"
[x] "You were really soft, though."
[x] "Have you ever considered moonlighting as a couch?"
>> No. 17544
[X] "You were really soft, softer than Marisa! You're so lucky, you know? I bet a whole lot of people would love someone that soft!"
[X] "Ah, being so talented, being so soft... you're amazing! Really amazing! The best!"

Let's not be rude.
>> No. 17547
>>17544

I think we've since gone deep into rude territory
>> No. 17549
>>17547
No, Bob is kawaii
>> No. 17553
Calling it.


>>17543

Goddammit, now I can't get the image of a ridiculously fat, chair-shaped Alice out of my head.
>> No. 17554
“I…” You close your eyes and collect yourself “I have to say that you were really soft.” You look up again, gazing deep into her eyes “Softer than Marisa!” The latter comment draws a cry of mock outrage from the witch. Ignoring her, you continue, grasping Alice’s hand as you speak. “You’re very lucky, you know that? There are a lot of people out in the wide world who would love someone so soft.”

Alice blushes deeply, averting her gaze from you and staring at her feet. “Ah, dear Alice… being so soft, so talented… you’re amazing.” You say with adoration “Really amazing. The best, even! The best and softest in the whole world!” Rubbing her hand against your face, you moan softly “So soft~”

“Hey, hey, lemme feel!” Marisa says, grabbing Alice’s other hand and likewise rubbing it against her face. “Mmmmm… Yeah, Alice is really soft.” The witch mutters, much to Alice’s vexation.

“Alright, that’s enough! Really!” Alice stands up abruptly, sending you and Marisa tumbling back onto your behinds as she pushes the both of you away from her “Begone! Shoo, shoo! I’ll have no more of your ridiculous behavior. Shanghai!” She snaps her fingers and the doll rises up into the air “Show our guests to the door.”

The wee doll rubs up against you, luring you with the promise of more snuggling and softness, and guides you through the house to the front door with Marisa, grinning madly, in tow. Just as you reach the door, half a dozen dolls spring out and shove the two of you out, spilling you onto Alice’s front lawn.

“And don’t come back ‘til you’ve learned some manners!” You hear the dollmaker cry from within before the front door slams shut behind you. After a long pause, Marisa turns to you.

“Well, that was fun. Maybe we should head into the village and find more soft things.” She suggests, a mischievous glint in her eyes “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

[ ] Oh yes, more soft thing!
[ ] Anything after Alice’s softness will be meaningless. Head home.
[ ] Explore the forest. Maybe there are naturally soft things to be found.
[ ] Custom.


I guess I work most quickly when sleep-deprived, because I just sat down and blasted this thing out. Lemme know if my tired brain made some bizarre leap in the story that I completely overlooked, ok?
>> No. 17555
[x] Oh yes, more soft things!
[x] Call out behind you "It was nice meeting you! I'll be back again to snuggle every day from now on!"
>> No. 17556
[X] Oh yes, more soft thing!
I wonder if Keine if soft- no... rather not... that would result in a painful headbutt...
>> No. 17557
[X] Oh yes, more soft thing!

Bob's soft adventures in Gensokyo?
>> No. 17559
[x] Oh yes, more soft things!
[x]Snuggle Marisa in appreciation.
>> No. 17560
>>17554

It can't get weirder than this.

[x] Oh yes, more soft things!
[x]Snuggle Marisa in appreciation.

Time to pay our converted disciple in the ways of softness with a snuggle, for while not as soft as Alice, is plenty soft herself.
>> No. 17561
[X] Oh yes, more soft things!
[X]Snuggle Marisa in appreciation.

We shouldhave named him Jim.
"Damnit Jim, i'm a dollmaker, not a pillow!"
>> No. 17562
Ok, calling it.

I wonder whether or not Keine should be soft...
>> No. 17563
>>17562

She's believed to be soft, let's see her hair is decently soft, so is EX keine's fluffy tail. She has a nice figure so both her bust and butt add to her softness factor.

(In DoLF R1, Shirou used her butt as a pillow in one scene... and found it to be a great pillow)

Though to be honest the best place for softness would be Higan (Komachi)
>> No. 17565
If we meet Youmu we will die from the feather pillow bliss that is her softness.
>> No. 17566
You brighten up at Marisa’s words—more soft things? Count you in! “That’s great, Marisa!” You snuggle her briefly.

“So, the village… Is there anyone particularly soft there?” You ask. Marisa shrugs “Well… that schoolteacher looks fairly soft, so I don’t see why she wouldn’t be what you’d be looking fo-” Suddenly, the witch is interrupted by something tugging on her skirt. “What’s this?” She mutters, turning and picking up one of Alice’s dolls, which is clutching a piece of paper. Immediately, you recognize it as Shanghai, the special doll.

“Eh?” Marisa grunts, taking the paper from its hands, glancing over it, she grins, then reads aloud: “’Sorry for kicking you out – have Shanghai for a day as recompense.’ I guess the doll otaku wants us to have a companion in out quest for softness.”

“Anyway, let’s head off.”


Yet another long broom-ride later, you find yourselves in a feudal-era-looking Japanese village, complete with dirty peasants. The smell of humanity fills the air—not a terribly pleasant smell, but where these is humanity, there is softness.

A few minutes more and Marisa has led you to a building slightly larger than the ones surrounded it. Just as you arrive, a stream of children come out, all blathering and doing a variety of non-soft things which fail to amuse you. Immediately following them, however, is a youngish lady wearing a blue dress with a… box of some kind on her head. Her long, white hair—not the gray of aging, but a pure white—looks very soft, you note. “Now remember, children! Those projects are due next Friday!” She shouts to the horde of screaming schoolchildren.

“Ah, hello Marisa.” She says, having noticed the two of you approaching “Who’s your friend?” Marisa gives you a ‘gentle’ push forward, clearly demanding that you introduce yourself.

[ ] “Greetings, madam, I am Bob.”
[ ] “Howdy, my name’s Bob the Weirdo.”
[ ] “I’m Bob. Are you soft?”
[ ] Custom.
>> No. 17568
[X] "Greetings, madam, I am Bob the Weirdo. Tell me, might you happen to be... soft?"

We may have poor impulse control, but there's no reason we can't be a gentleman.
>> No. 17569
[X] "Greetings, madam, I am Bob the Weirdo. Tell me, might you happen to be... soft?"
>> No. 17570
[X] "Greetings, madam, I am Bob the Weirdo. Tell me, might you happen to be... soft?"
>> No. 17571
[X] "Greetings, madam, I am Bob the Weirdo. Tell me, might you happen to be... soft?"

Why the heck not?
>> No. 17572
[x] “Greetings, madam, I am Bob.”
>> No. 17575
[X] "Greetings, madam, I am Bob the Weirdo. Tell me, might you happen to be... soft?"

Gentlemanly weirdo snuggler, that's us.
>> No. 17577
File 125037751646.jpg - (296.67KB, 500x707, 1934f585ab84c54ed8489b5045d231f8.jpg) [iqdb]
17577
>>17562
Keine is very soft, except for her forehead. In her EX form, all her softness is concentrated into her tail.
>> No. 17578
“Greetings, madam,” You say politely, bowing slightly as you do “I am Bob. Bob the Weirdo.”

She nods respectfully and replies “I am Keine Kamishirasawa, protector of the human village.”

“Tell me, miss Kamishirasawa,” You say, stepping closer to her “Might you happen to be… soft?”

After a moment of stunned silence, the schoolteacher replies cryptically “Only once a month.”

“Sorry?”

“Once a month, under the light of the full moon.” She elaborates, smiling softly as if lost in memory “Ah, to be… But I’m getting off topic. Anyway, why did you—Bob, was it?—come to the human village?”

“We’re looking for soft things!” Marisa announces, striking a heroic pose. “Yeah!” You agree, striking a slightly lame pose of your own. You notice Shanghai doing the same out of the corner of your eye, and immediately are struck by the thought that your softness-seeking band of adventurers should have a title to befit your quest, like the Knights of the Round Table.

“Oh my.” Keine mutters, bringing you back to reality “Well, try not to annoy any of the villagers or destroy any of the property, alright? It’s been nice meeting you, Bob, but I’ve work to do.” She smiles and returns to the school, leaving the three of you standing in the street, posed heroically.

“So,” Marisa says, breaking her pose “The teacher was a bit of a bust. Where else should we look for soft things?”

[ ] Wander the town aimlessly.
[ ] Go to a specific place in the town.
[ ] Go back to the forest.
[ ] Custom.
>> No. 17579
>"The teacher was a bit of a bust."
Oh you.

[X]Wander the town aimlessly.
>> No. 17580
[x] Wander the town aimlessly.
Maybe we'll get a random encounter and snuggle them.
>> No. 17583
[x] Your soft sense is tingling.
[x] Go back to the forest!
>> No. 17585
[x]Wander aimlessly.
[x]Snuggle Marisa a bit to fix that softness disappointment.

Bob needs his fix.
>> No. 17586
>>17585
Shanghai has not yet had any snuggles.
>> No. 17588
>>17586

Wood isn't soft.
>> No. 17589
[x]Wander aimlessly.
[x]Snuggle Marisa a bit to fix that softness disappointment.

Bob needs to snuggle.
>> No. 17594
>>17588

I doubt that Alice's doll making masterpiece would feel remotely like a block of wood. For all we know she used another material while making Shanghai, thus making her soft as well.

[x]Wander aimlessly.
[x]Snuggle Marisa AND Shanghai a bit to fix that softness disappointment.

Why leave our newest follower out?
>> No. 17600
>>17594

Like porcelain?
that's not soft either

Alice makes dolls, not homunculus. She's a bit like a mad scientist that wants to make a sentinent robot, old automata after all were much like puppets. The softness isn't a concern when building. Bob is not pleased.
>> No. 17601
File 125045039929.png - (128.09KB, 500x500, 4dc1808a53575bb34a8729743e562aca.png) [iqdb]
17601
>>17600
As if Alice wouldn't want a doll she could hug. You're crazy.
>> No. 17602
>>17580 here, changing my vote.

[x]Wander aimlessly.
[x]Snuggle Marisa and Shanghai a bit to fix that softness disappointment.
>> No. 17607
Calling it.

But now I'm faced with a conundrum: should Shanghai be soft? Both sides have made 'excellent' points.
>> No. 17610
>>17607
of course.
>> No. 17611
>>17607
From the not soft camp:
She could have soft hair.
>> No. 17612
A full explaination: Alice is a magician (and if fanon's to be believed still Shinki's daughter), and as such she could create exotic materials to make a superior SOFT doll, which was then named Shanghai.

I do believe Shanghai is the full results of Alice's doll making skills, and as a result, everything would be rather soft to the touch.

Though to be honest the typical attack doll Alice uses is most likely a simpler wooden construction compared to Shanghai and perhaps Hourai.
>> No. 17613
>>17612

Another problem is that if it were soft, it'd be a blob, or lose its shape like a ragdoll. Dolls don't have skeletons.
>> No. 17616
File 125049315695.jpg - (134.90KB, 650x843, 4e905fb788e8c834bf186e35880d0fd9.jpg) [iqdb]
17616
>>17613
Magic ones do.
>> No. 17617
>>17613
Not a ragdoll, but perhaps a Real Doll.
>> No. 17627
“Well, since going after a predetermined target didn’t work, the best thing we can do is wander into a random encounter in the town, right?” You reason, beaming at your own brilliance.

“Sure.” Marisa replies with only slight hesitation “But I don’t think that we should try to cover the whole town. We should just wander in one section, yeah? So… which one?”

You think for a moment: you do not know this town, so the best way would be to choose randomly. Struck by an idea, you stand a ways away from Marisa, close your eyes and begin to spin. After five rapid, dizzying revolutions, you stagger in a random direction…

(The DM rolls 1d10 to see which way you stagger)

…Right into what feels like a giant ball of fuzz. Sadly, although the hairs of this thing are soft, they are also bristly, and only thinly cover what feels like a well-muscled body. Wait a minute, this isn’t just well-muscled, it’s absolutely ripped.

Stumbling backwards (you’re still slightly dizzy from the spin), you glance over at what you ran into… and end up looking, eye-level, at a very well-toned six pack covered slightly with short, bright orange hair. Looking up, you find yourself staring into a pair of completely blank, white eyes mounted in an almost perfectly round head. Like the rest of the body, the head is covered with orange hair. The creature you’ve run into is humanoid, albeit nearly 9 feet tall, and wears nothing but a white loin cloth to contrast with its bright fur/hair.

A previously unseen mouth opens wide as the creature stares at you expectantly. Based on the thing’s musculature, you imagine that it could easily rip your arms from their sockets. What do you do?

[ ] Apologize.
[ ] Yell at the thing for being in your way.
[ ] Genuflect.
[ ] Custom.
>> No. 17628
[ ] Fuzzy sixpack is soft~
[x] Do the manly thing to do in such a situation - run to Marisa and hide behind her.
>> No. 17629
[x] Do the manly thing to do in such a situation - run to Marisa and hide behind her.
>> No. 17630
[X] Apologize humbly.

F.O.E.! (Which is totally unsoft btw)

That and Bob knows how to apologize right?
>> No. 17631
[X] Do the manly thing to do in such a situation - run to Marisa and hide behind her.
>> No. 17632
[x] Do the manly thing to do in such a situation - run to Marisa and hide behind her.
>> No. 17637
Even in this bizarre land of magic, some things still hold true: a man is defined by his actions, and rolling over for a bully is the lowest thing one can do. With that thought held firmly in your mind, you square your shoulders, steel your nerves, look the giant solidly in the eye… And run like a little girl.

“Tasukete, Marisa!” You scream, putting her between you and the pursuing monster. “Bob, wha—” She begins, only to be cut off by the enraged bellow of your attacker. Without any hesitation, she throws both her hands out and gives a cry of her own.

“Love Sign: 「Master Spark」”

A blinding flash of white light spews forth from her hands, enveloping the enraged beast in an awe-inspiring holocaust of magical energy. The sound alone would be enough to pummel a man into submission, but the sheer force of the spell is… incredible.

When the attack finally peters out, you find yourself nearly blinded by the afterimage, and vigorously rub your eyes. What an amazing display! You have a newfound respect for Marisa…

The next thing that you see, however, is so ridiculous, so impossible that your brain fails to register it for a moment. When, finally, the image comes through, you feel the pit drop out of your stomach as legs fail you and deposit you on the ground.

Emerging from the smoke and dust, the orange-haired giant rushes at Marisa. With a mighty roar, it swings one of its wrecking ball-like fists at the witch, landing a solid blow to her head with a sickening crunch. The black and white figure falls limply to the ground. The giant strikes a pose then walks off nonchalantly.

You scramble over to the magician on your hands and knees, all the while muttering “No, oh please, no, no.” Kneeling by her, you take her mangled head in your hands and, seeing the dullness of death already creeping into her eyes, weep silently. Your first and, perhaps, truest friend in this strange world is dead because of your foolishness.

~~~

Several months have passed since the witch’s death. Bob, as detached from the world around him as one can be, spends most of his days sitting in the town square, just staring. Occasionally he drinks and eats, but mostly he just stares. Whether or not there’s anything left behind his glazed eyes is a puzzle to the villagers, and not one that any wish to solve. They leave him to his own inner demons for the most part, and for everybody else the world just keeps on turning.


‘A FATE WORSE THAN DEATH’ End.



Rollback and choose new option?
>> No. 17638
>>17637
[x] Jump down a Building.
[x] Continue your adventures in the afterlife. Time to find soft things in the netherworld.
>> No. 17642
Rollback and this

>>17630

The sensible thing to do.
>> No. 17646
[x]Rollback
and
[x]Apologize

Didn't meant to stumble into you, er, sir.
>> No. 17650
Did not expect to see an FOE...

[x] Rollback and apologize humbly.
>> No. 17652
Very well, Bob the Diplomat is a go.
>> No. 17653
>Bob the Diplomat
I read this as "Bob the Dead Man".
>> No. 17656
You clear your throat and lower your eyes from the giant’s. “I’m terribly sorry, good sir. Please pardon my recklessness.” You say, bowing slightly. The creature remains silent, but extends one of its massive hands. This is it, you think, and shut your eyes tight, preparing yourself to have your skull crushed.

Instead, however, the giant merely ruffles your hair affectionately and lumbers off into the town. Standing up, you give Marisa a questioning look. She shrugs, mimicked by Shanghai who remains perched on her shoulder. Chalking it up as just another mysterious, non-soft puzzle in this magical land, you resolve to continue your search for softness in the town…

[The DM rolls a 1d6 to determine which direction you head]

Wandering along a random street for a short while, you are drawn by the indistinct cries of a hawker. Following your ears, you make your way over to a small stage-like setup, upon which a woman is announcing the (dubious) capabilities of medicinal cures she has created. The product, however, is not nearly as interesting as she is: tall and elegant, she wears a red and blue dress with a nurse’s cap perched atop her head. Her silvery hair is long and braided, promising great softness even with just a glance.

You find yourself entranced by her movements and her voice, even as you block out what she’s saying, considering it irrelevant to her softness. Marisa waits patiently with you, adjusting Shanghai’s dress boredly. The little doll, however, seems content to be manhandled by the witch.

Several minutes and as many medicines later, the show begins to disperse. Noticing you looking at her, the medicinewoman smiles and calls out to you “Greetings, young man. Might I interest you in some of my products?” She offers you a hand—soft!—and adds “By the way, I’m Eirin Yagokoro.”

[ ] Introduce yourself.
[ ] Do not introduce yourself.
+
[ ] “Are you soft?”
+
[ ] Ask about the medicines.
[ ] Politely decline the medicines.
>> No. 17657
[ ] Introduce yourself.
[ ] “Are you soft?”
[ ] Ask about a medicine to make things softer.
>> No. 17658
[ ] Introduce yourself.
[ ] “Are you soft?”
[ ] Ask about a medicine to make things softer.

Note: be polite, Bob.
>> No. 17659
[ ] Introduce yourself.
[ ] “Are you soft?”
[ ] Ask about a medicine to make things softer.
>> No. 17660
I'm cutting classes to write touhou CYOAs!

I'm such a rebel.

------------------------


“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Yagokoro.” You say, shaking her hand gently “I am Bob the Weirdo, an outsider.” She smiles at you, now more interested than polite “Indeed? An Outsider? What a pleasant surprise.” Though spoken without much energy, her declaration seems sincere “How may I help you, traveler?”

“Well, I was just wondering…” You notice Marisa perk up as she realizes the softness-seeking is about to begin “…Are you soft, Miss Yagokoro?” She seems unfazed by this question, and after a moment of thought, replies with “Yes, yes I am.”

You nod eagerly “You have medicine right? What about a kind of medicine that makes things softer?” She gives you an unamused stare “I am not a cosmetician, Bob, I make real medicine—drugs to cure ailments and alleviate symptoms, not ones which cater to peoples’ vanity.” She replies sternly.

“I… I’m sorry.” You mutter, feeling like a schoolboy just scolded by his favorite teacher “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Hmmm… There might be a way for you to make it up to me.” She thinks aloud. Marisa nudges you and whispers “I wouldn’t do work for her, if I were you. Her assistants have a tendency to be used as test subjects for her drugs.”

[ ] Offer to help Eirin.
[ ] Heed Marisa’s advice.
[ ] Custom.
>> No. 17661
[x] Offer to help Eirin.
>> No. 17662
>I'm cutting classes to write touhou CYOAs!

Don't do that, you will end up a NEET like me. Education is important for your life.

[x] Offer to help Eirin.
>> No. 17663
[X] Heed Marisa’s advice.
>> No. 17665
[x] Heed Marisa’s advice.
Who knows what those experiments'll do to us.
>> No. 17669
>>17662
Nobody waited.
The monitor in front of him flickered and displayed text. He was trying to write the essay. He hadn’t developed a thesis, but he knew he’d have to for years. His counselor’s warnings to him were not listenend to and now it was too late. Far too late for now, anway.
Nobody was a student for n years. When he was young he watched the students pass their classes “I want to attend classes, daddy.”
Dad said “No! You will BE FLUNKED DUE TO ESSAY.”
There was a time when he believed him. Then as he got oldered he stopped. But now in his study he knew the essay had to be written.
“This is essay prompt” the prompt crackered “you must write about a contemporary issue of interest to you.
So Nobody gotted his keyboard and wrote up a draft.
“HE’S GOING TO WRITE US.” Said the essay.
“I will distract him” said CYOA.doc and caused procrastination. Nobody ignored it and tried to get back to work. But then the writer’s block appeared and he was trapped and unable to engage in creative thinking.
“No! I must write the essay!” he shouted
The notification said “No, Nobody, you are uninteresting writer.”
And then Nobody was a NEET.


Story of my entire life.
>> No. 17671
>>17669

That... was beautiful!
>> No. 17673
[X] Offer to help Eirin.

You're a human, so it can't be that bad, she mainly does the severe stuff on the rabbits.
>> No. 17678
[X] Offer to help Eirin.

Needle time
>> No. 17681
Calling it and starting a new thread with the next installment.
>> No. 17727
What happened to the new thread?
>> No. 17730
>>17727
Site downtime happened.
>> No. 17772
>BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!
>> No. 17881
Did Nobody even make it over?
>> No. 17883
>>17881
HY needs to make more marketing. We need more ads.
>> No. 18204
File 125411174879.jpg - (22.29KB, 346x259, LeonardMcCoy.jpg) [iqdb]
18204
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