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172 No. 172
Episode 01: Undulating License of Severe Threats?! The Grand Announcement's Meandering Existence!


You wake up one morning to find yourself in Gensokyo. The well-worn path you stand upon forks into two directions. One, marked by a sign reading “Village” and the other by a sign reading “Certain Death”. Or rather, that's what you guess they say, judging by the way one clearly leads to an quaint and inviting-looking village, and the other leading straight in a rather dark, ominous-looking forest.

Which way do you go?

[] To the village!
[X] To certain death!

The suddenness of your arrival in a land you had, until now, believed was purely the creation of the booze-addled mind of an eccentric Japanese programmer with a mildly disturbing hat fetish has clearly caused your mind to break, effectively shutting down whatever sense of self-preservation you may have once possessed. Happily tromping off into the wilderness, it isn't long before the path you were walking on disappears, leaving you hopelessly lost in dark forest, surrounded by any number of things willing and able to kill you. As you stand contemplating your situation, a realization strikes; you really have to pee.

Do you:

[X] Stay where you are and hope help arrives soon
[] Just keep going the way you were and hope it works out
[] Close your eyes, run in a random direction, and scream like a ninny all the while


In stark contrast to the flagrant disregard for your safety that compelled you to waltz right into a dark forest with no map, compass, or even rudimentary skills in navigating through woods, you decide that the wisest course of action is to try to recall your childhood days as a boy scout. After a half-hour long bout of unconupstanding gentlemanable sobbing in the fetal position, you try to recall the things from those days that didn't entail the scout master putting things in places they were never meant to go, and remember something about how when you're lost you should just stay where you are. While a more rational person would question the wisdom of such inaction while in an unfamiliar place surrounded by god knows how many things that would love to have you for dinner in the most literal way possible, the fact that you are clearly not one of those people means you're far more concerned with the fact that you still need to pee. If you wait any longer, you're afraid your bladder might bu-HEY, LOOK! A BUNNY!

[] Watch the bunny
[X] Call out to the bunny
[] Follow the bunny


You decide to call out to the bunny, using the methods you acquired in your time as the one they called “The Rabbit Whisperer”. Why they called you that you never really understood, because you didn't really whisper to the rabbits so much as you loudly whistled at them and made motorboat noises with your mouth, which is exactly what you do right now.
SUDDENLY NINJAS! THOUSANDS OF THEM!

Just kidding. Why would ninjas show up from you calling out to a rabbit in a way that isn't at all like “calling out” to anything? That would be just stupid.

The rabbit turns to look at you, and tilts its head to the size quizzically.
“¡Cerrándose para arriba, estoy aquí a la derecha! ¡Maldición de dios!”
Shit. It's a Spanish rabbit.

Having failed Spanish in school, as you have failed in all other aspects of life, you still make the attempt to communicate with it.
“¡Hola, cerveza!” you begin. “No tengo gusto del teléfono. “

“Qué. “
The rabbit looks at you incredulously, or at least as much as a small rodent not known for facial expressions can muster.

Clearly it is impressed. Before you can further wow it with your ability to count to ten and ask where the library is, however, a large owl swoops down and snatches your little fluffy friend with its razor-sharp talons. You take a moment to silently salute the little animal as it is carried off to what is sure to be an agonizingly-painful demise as it is torn to pieces by talon and beak alike. Though your time together was painfully brief, you know that he will continue to exist in your heart and mind, and also as a tiny, compact pellet of fur, bones, and other assorted matter the owl could not digest.

You still have to pee.

[] Pee
[] Don't pee
[X] Deliberate at great length about the pros and cons of both courses of action while praying your bladder doesn't rupture while you do so
[] Focus your attention on more important matters

Continuing your trend of completely ignoring the cold, stark reality of your situation, you decide to engage yourself in a lengthy mental debate over what should otherwise be the simple choice of whether or not to relieve the pressure that has been building in your aching bladder. Would peeing right now have some unforeseen consequence that would make you regret ever being born? Would not doing it yielded even graver consequences? You careful analyze every advantage and disadvantage, approaching the matter from every conceivable angle, even taking into account what little you know of things like probability and chaos theory that you learned from movies. If you let loose now, it could potentially change the direction of the air currents in a subtle yet significant manner, creating a chain reaction of events that result in it raining in some place on the other side of the world. The rain would cause the cancellation of some poor kid's junior league baseball game, the one where his estranged father finally made the effort to come and see, just to watch his little boy play. Deprived of the chance to live vicariously through his son's success at children's sports, he becomes increasingly cold towards the child. Desperate for his father's love and acknowledgment, the child begins to act out in various ways, culminating in the fateful day he storms into a Kinkos decked out in camo fatigues and carrying enough guns and ammunition to start a revolution.

Damn it. You're doing that thing again. The one where you over-think extremely minor, trivial decisions that most sane people wouldn't waste more than a second deciding upon. It's a very annoying habit of yours, admittedly, but one you find terribly hard to break.

Fortunately, while your consciousness was occupied by over-analyzing the potential impact the introduction of your bodily waste into the ecosystem would have upon the local flora and fauna, as well as on the world at large, you apparently began walking again, and you now find yourself standing in front of a house. You've seen a lot of houses in your time, and this is most definitely one of them. Four walls, a roof, a door, and even some windows. Truly, this is the most house-like house you have ever seen.

[] Knock on the door!
[X] Hide under the porch!
[] DING DONG DASH!

What? Hide under the porch? Why would you do that? That's just stupid. You're stupid.
While you continue to mentally berate yourself for a lapse in sense and sanity that made your actions up to now seem almost rational, you step up to the porch and knock on the door like a decent human being should.

As you begin to wonder if anyone is home, your silent query is answered by the sounds of movement from beyond the door. After a few moments, you hear the sounds of several locks being undone, and the door swings open to reveal a cute blonde girl in a light blue dress, holding a large book in one hand.

“Marisa, for the last time I'm not letting you borrow my grimo-EH?!”
The girl's words are cut off as she realizes you aren't whoever she thought you were. In the span of mere seconds you can see a variety of emotions play out through her eyes. Surprise. Confusion. And finally a combination of shock and horror. The girl screams, and proceeds to hit you over the head repeatedly with her book.

Reflexively employing your arms to alternate between shielding your head from her blows and your ears from the shrill cries of “PERVERT” that she manages to sputter out between her otherwise incoherent shrieking, you wonder just what the hell her problem is. Has she never seen a man before? Perhaps she has led a very sheltered life, and living in a place as dangerous as these woods surely are, your sudden appearance on her doorstep triggered her instinctual “fight or flight” response, and for whatever reason opted for the former rather than the latter.

Or maybe it's just because you're naked. Hm, yeah. That's probably it.
Your mother always warned you about things like that. Always look both ways before crossing the street. Always wear clean underwear in case you have to go to the emergency room. Always sleep in your clothes in case you suddenly wake up to find yourself transported to an unfamiliar place by unknown means. Who knew she would actually be right, and your fondness for sleeping in the buff really would come back to haunt you like this? Your mom knew. She always knew.

Such a shame she had to be committed after she had that little breakdown and became convinced she was Saint Jerome. Sad, really.

Oh, yeah. You're getting the shit beaten out of you by a girl with a book, aren't you? Why aren't you more concerned about that? Is it because her assault has already managed to crack your head open, leaving you dazed and confused from the combination of blunt head trauma and blood loss? Why is everything getting so fuzzy? Heh, you're actually kinda sleepy, now that you think of it. That ringing in your ears has stopped, you don't even notice any of the pain you felt in your head just moments ago. Hey, even your bladder isn't hurting anymore! Awash in a comforting warmth you feel spreading across your body, you reach an epiphany: This "story" sucks, and by reading it you have wasted precious time in your life that you will never get back. Congratulations!

>> No. 173
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>> No. 175
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>> No. 177
In Which A Writer Gleefully Roasts fanfictions In General (While Pointing Out One Or Two Things That Could Admittedly Use A Great Deal Of Fixing)
>> No. 206
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Episode 02: What's That?! They Can't Sue You if They're Already Dead!

Once upon a morning dreary, mussy hair and eyes so bleary
Awakening you see a sight, a sight your room should never show
For before you are not walls of wood, nor stone, nor even balls
But rather trees and grass and bees and other sights you shouldn't know
“There is but one thing this could mean” you mutter, knowing what you know.
“I woke up in Gensokyo.”

Ah, distinctly you remember, all those times since last December,
Countless hours spent indoors instead of playing in the snow
Before your PC, drives a-spinning; gaming, reading, even sinning
Doing each and all to girls and games you had come to love so
From the mind of one drunk man, this land you had come to love so
It was called “Gensokyo”

Suddenly breaking from your reverie, you see a sight you shouldn't see
A ball of blackest pitch approaching at a speed so slow
As you stand there, fixed and marveling, at this thing you should find startling
At this orb or blob you think is blacker than the blackest crow
Words you hear from this shapeless mass that's blacker than a carrion crow
Quoth the darkness, “Is that so~”

To this you give a perplexed whistle, brace yourself, shout “MAGIC MISSILE”
And stand your ground to fight the darkness like the warriors of lore
But then you realize, with poor timing, you just messed up this writing's rhyming
And do much disservice to the writer by the name of Poe
The man whose work you're plagiarizing that went by that name of Poe
And from the darkness: “Is that so~”

But no time is there for despaired shaming, of yourself or your exclaiming
For from the blackness now emerges a girl, a girl you do not know
“Or do I?” you say as you gasp, at this girl all clad in black
And white, and in her hair a strange ribbon in a bow
As you recall, one such girl, who wears such a ribbon in a bow
Quote the Rumia, “Is that so~”

And that's the start, though now you're running, running, running
Sometimes tumbling, from this girl who's given chase to you as if she were a pro,
You quote your idol, Ed Grimley, and scream “I'M DOOMED AS DOOMED CAN BE!”
All the while this girl is prepared to dine on you with a fine Bordeaux
What awful taste that girl must have, to have red meat with a Bordeaux
But she says simply. “Is that so~”

And that's your tale, it's at an end, as a moe girl's meal and not her friend
For life is cheap in a land as mystical as Gensokyo
And though you're sure, from your purview, you should have at least one continue
Alas, this format is ill-suited, to continues, I'm sure you know
At least your end came here, and not in one of DESPAIR and SNOW
But to the words of “Is that so~”
>> No. 296
Awesome.

This thread should be archived for posterity.
>> No. 332
Oh, look, it's just like a un-good version of SHOES!.

... Fucking saved.
>> No. 376
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376
Interval 03 - I've Got a Lovely Bunch of Small Bombs

“Uuoooooooooooooooah-ze! Damn it, damn it, damn it! Useless! It's all useless-ze!”
The more I think about it, the more hopeless it looks. How could things have become so messed up? Damn, just thinking about it pisses me off.

It all started so simply, with our yearly meeting at the Scarlet Devil Mansion. The sudden storm preventing us from leaving the island was just the beginning. After a long evening of drinking and partying, we had all retired to our respective rooms for the night. At some point Flandre read us all some weird letter, but we didn't think much of it at the time since, hell, that kid's nuts. The following morning, some people had seemingly gone missing. With the storm raging outside rendering the chances of any of them leaving unlikely, we began a search of the mansion. When we came upon the door with the strange, red symbol painted over it, we knew something was wrong.

Forcing our way into the room, we found a scene of horror and carnage too gruesome to describe. Inside lay the mutilated corpses of Fujiwara no Mokou, Houraisan Kaguya, and Saigyouji Yuyuko. Oh yeah, two fairy maids were also in there, but nobody really thought much about them. With three of the guests accounted for, we still were puzzled as to where the mistress of the mansion, Remilia Scarlet herself, had seemingly vanished to.

We eventually found her corpse as well, horribly burnt and stuffed into the mansion's incinerator. Like the room the other victims had been found in, the door to the boiler room had also been locked from the inside, and a strange magic circle had been hastily painted on the door in red paint. Just what the hell was going on in this house?!

Hoping to figure things out, I called the survivors to gather in the dining hall.
“And that's where we stand right now, ze.” I conclude my summary to everyone.

“...and?” Patchouli lazily asks.
“And-ze?! Several people were killed, ze! Right under this very roof! I think it's obvious that this is the work of a murderer who is hiding in our very midst!”
“I-it's j-j-just th-that, u-um, w-well...d-don't you th-think y-you're o-overreacting a b-bit?” Alice speaks up from her place at the table.
“Overeacting?! There's a murderer right here in this very room with us, who could strike again at any time, and you could be next-ze!”

Almost as if on reflex, several at the table all turn to look at a certain green-haired woman.
“Oh my~” She says while smiling. “I do hope you are not suspecting me~”
“Oh, of course not, ze!”
“Good.” The woman replies, that smile never leaving her face as she speaks. “After all, if I started murdering people, there would be none of you left~”
For a moment, the room is filled with the squeaking of chairs hastily being moved away from creepily-smiling woman.

Once the noise subsides, I resume speaking.
“No, ze. What I think is happening is far more sinister. I believe this is the work of someone trying to pass these killings off as magical, and force us to believe in the existence of witches.”
“What.”
“Think about it, Patch-ze! The locked rooms! The circles! The brutal way everyone was killed! Clearly this could only be the work of someone trying to make everything look like the work of magic, ze!
“B-b-but w-we all u-use m-m-m-magic!”
“Then that just means everyone is a suspect, ze! Well, everyone but Meiling-ze.”
“Eh? Me? Why me?” the red-head asks, as surprised to be addressed by her actual name as much as she is to be somehow excluded from the list of suspects.
“Because-ze!” I point dramatically at the woman. “You're not even supposed to be here, ze!”
“*ahem*...I do not believe that is what Knox was referring to.” Patchouli states in her typical, quiet deadpan voice. “Besides, are you not forgetting something rather critical, here?”
“Eh? Like what, ze?”
“In order for there to be a crime, there must be a victim, must there not? So then, where are the victims of this particular crime?”
“Why, they're all right here of course, ze!”
“Exactly. They're all right here. And with the exception of one, all of them are alive and well.”

Crap. She was right. In my enthusiasm for the pursuit of justice, I had forgotten that most of the victims had already regenerated from the damage they had received from their assailant by the time we had all sat down for lunch. Well played, you criminal scum, but I will not be deterred!

“But!” I loudly proclaim while once again pointing my finger as dramatically as I can at no one in particular “Just because they got better doesn't mean there wasn't a crime, ze! And can you truly say they are completely unharmed? If you can say it, then say it in red, ze! Repeat it! You can't, can you, ze?”
Patchouli sighs. “I don't know what you keep blathering about with this 'speaking in colors' nonsense, but I suppose you do have something vaguely resembling a point. Some of them do seem to still be a bit, hm...damaged.” Her gaze lazily drifts over to the pant-wearing girl with the long silver hair, who immediately takes notice.
“HAGH!” The panted one replies. “Its nae laike ahm damaaghed innaemah headerannaethaan! Maghjaghjuss hassn heagh propalae soaya havabitta speeshempedmen!” She suddenly glares at the opposite end of the table. “AHDN STAHLAGUAN YAHDIRDAHBEECH!”
At this, the other immortal loses any and all control she had been exerting, and bursts out in a fit of laughter so strong it probably ruptured some organs.
“BWAHAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAA! I-it j-just suits you so w-weAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! SO WELL! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Maybe I should see a-abouteeheEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEEE, ah, hah, about Eirin finding a way to make it permanent! GYAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA-ack! I think I broke something there. hahahaha, ah, ow...ha...”
“GIMMEANATHARAWN ANAHALL RAHALLYBREAKSOMMAN YAAHSKAAHNK!”

While any other time such fighting words would have provoked yet another blood-soaked battle, the only response the lunar princess could muster this time was to burst out in yet another bout of laughter, this time one so strong she actually begins to cough up blood.
“OOOHOOHOOHOOOHOOOGOD! IT'S KILLING ME! IT'S ACTUALLY KILLING MEEHEEHEHEEHEEEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaguhrugrlaggh”. And then she was dead. Again.

“This is getting us nowhere.” Patchouli quietly yet forcefully says to the remaining immortal.
“Tsk. Faghn. Ahllgethabishch reelguudwensheerevahvs anneewae.” Mokou says as she shoves her hands in her pockets and sits back down. “B'sahds, isnaelaikahm thawurswanoff eere. YehthinGAHM braahndamaeeg? Waddabadteer?” She says with a nod of her head towards the corner of the room where, sure enough, sat Remilia Scarlet. Of all the victims in this incident, she was clearly the worst-off.

“Ah reckon, ah reckon ah ougghta git me somma them thar taters, mmyup. Git me tha fixin's, Saguyah. Fixem up, yeup.” The mansion's mistress mumbles, rocking back and forth while squinting her eyes as if she were staring directly into the sun.

“That's right, ze!” I say with renewed vigor in an attempt to remind everyone who the main character of the scene is supposed to be.
“Even the mistress of this very mansion was brutally and savagely attacked, ze! On top of that, she wasn't just mutilated, but her body was dumped into the furnace and very badly burned, ze!”
“That,” the librarian counters, “is easily explainable. Clearly after our activities had finished, those immortals wound up getting into a fight. Remi, along with the other so-called victims, were most likely caught up in the crossfire.”
“Not me~!” The pink-haired ghost princess finally speaks, having spent the time up to now stealthily moving about the table and devouring everyone else's food while they were distracted. “I just found things as they were, and thought it all looked like so much fun, I just had to join in~!”
“....anyway,” Patchouli continues, “that would account for how everyone wound up in the state we found them, and I suspect the matters of the locked doors and the boiler room would not have even come up were it not for a certain someone's, shall we say, 'compulsions'.”
“Nyaaa! I couldn't help it! Couldn't help it, sis! I just saw all those bodies just lying there, and I just couldn't resist! Nyaaaaaugh! Why did I have to leave my cart back at home?! I just wanted to burn one! Just one! Just one wouldn't hurt, could it?!” The strange two-tailed, four-eared cat frantically attempts to justify herself. Why was she even here, anyway? Her creepy master certainly wasn't invited, because she's so creepy.
“The problem, little cat, is who you decided to burn. As a vampire, normally Remi is able to regenerate herself no matter how damaged her body becomes. However, the speed with which this happens can depend greatly upon the type of damage incurred, and how much of her remains. In this case, while much of her body still remained, I suspect that at least one of the bats from which she could have regenerated was not so fortunate. This particular bat, I believe, was most likely going to help restore part of her brain. As that piece was seemingly incinerated, Remi must now regenerate that part manually. Until then, I am afraid she will be like this...” she says, gesturing to her now babbling friend.

“Ah figger. I figger. Mailing inna ribbin, myeup. Jussa ribbin mmhmm. Fayt oftha Payust. Poke yer eye out, ah reckon. Mmmmyeup. Ah killed mah brudder. Mmmmhmmmm.”

“J-ju-just w-what i-i-is sh-she talking a-a-about?” Alice stammers.
“I am not entirely certain. The most I could gather was something about a game she lost.”

At this, the previously-dead princess sits bolt-upright in her chair, and after several seconds of sputtering and growing increasingly red in the face, suddenly screams, “EVERY TIME! EVERY GODDAMN TIME! FUCK!”
Hastily getting up, she storms out of the room and down the hall, blood still spraying from her mouth as she lets out a rapid-fire stream of profanities.

“Oh, it's useless! It's all useless, ze!! Just you wait, ze! I'll deny you and witches until the very end, ze! OOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH-ze!”
“Oh yes, that reminds me. There is one more crucial thing you have forgotten.”
“Huh, ze? Something I've forgotten?”
“Yes. Something very critical. You talk about this supposed crime, and witches and such, but have you forgotten? You, yourself, are a witch. You are THE witch, Marisa.”
“Shit, ze! You're right, ze! OUUUUUAH-ze! UUU-UUUU-ZE! USELESS! IT'S ALL USELESS, ZE! You can't trust anything! Anything that isn't red, ze! I can't even trust myseeeeeeeeelf!!!!”

With that, Marisa placed her Hakkero-ze into her mouth-ze, and fired off a Master Spark-ze into her face-ze. And she died. Ze.

“Well. That was retarded.” said Patchouli.
“...y-y-yes. Yes i-i-i-i-it w-was.” Alice replied.
“Do you want to go back to my room and make out while rubbing our unmentionables together?
“O-okay...”
And so they retreated to Patchouli's room in the library for a night of completely non-gratuitous lesbian sex.

When the night sparrow cries, there are no survivors.
>> No. 387
>>376
this picture jesus christ
>> No. 408
Part 4: On a Night Like This, You Can Only Think in Metaphors.

On the lake that never sleeps, or perhaps it does but you just can't tell because it doesn't have eyes or snores or anything, what would a snoring lake sound like, anyway? One fairy, alone, by herself, seeks out the easy answers for the tough questions, and also the easy ones...

Evening falls on the lake, and the mist is hanging thick in the air like a cloud but a whole lot lower. Or maybe they're all the same. When freezing things is your stock and trade, it's all just a bunch of water to you. And by you I mean me. Because you're not me, that would be weird. And stupid. I am not stupid, that is what you are.
I'm an ice fairy. This is my job.

Evening falls on the lake, and the mist is hanging in a way that I think I just already described. Why do you need me to repeat myself? What are you, an idiot?

Sitting in my office by the large rock with the slightly smaller one off to the side, I wait for a client that never comes by occupying myself with a game of ice darts. At least that's what I think they call it, except I don't have that thing people throw things at, so I make do with the next best thing. Frogs. They move around and stuff, so clearly they're much better for displaying my strongness at shooting things.

Just then, a knock comes at my door.
“U-um, Cirno? What door?”
I said a KNOCK comes at my DOOR.
“But we're outside.”
Then just pretend! Jeeeze!
“O-okay. 'Knock, knock, knock'?”

I turn to look to see who could be knocking like that, since I obviously had no door. What kind of person would do that? An idiot?
“But you told me-”
And there stood the classiest dame I ever seen. Her hair long and green, like grass would be if that lunchbox lady didn't eat all of it all the time. The dress she's wearing clings loosely, like a thing that isn't on too tight but fits just right. Now that I think of it, where do our clothes come from, anyway? When you're like me, these questions are the kind that keep you up at night, or would if I ever slept.

“Now then, miss, what can I do for you?”
“...oh! What? Well, um...uh...you didn't really tell me what to do after...um, what are we doing, anyway.”
“Hmm. Interesting. Sounds like a classic case of amnestyia to me. Don't worry ma'am, I'll find the culprit who did this to you. After all, I'm an ice fairy. It's my job.”
“I don't understand what you're talking about, Cirno.”

Of course she didn't. She had amnesty. And was probably an idiot.
“Hey!”
But nevermind that. With my first case in how ever long it's been since I first started this job, I decided to track down some of the usual suspects. Somewhere out there was a memory-stealer, and I was going to find them and put them on ice. Or in it. Or both. After all, I was an ice fairy. It's my job. I already told you that. What are you, an idiot?

On the lake that never sleeps, perhaps because it had too much of that coffee stuff that some people seem to like, though I don't know why because it's just too hot. What kind of people would like that stuff, idiots? One lone fairly alone and by herself hunts down the tough answers and the questions that they go with or at least as close as they can. Tune in next week for yet another thrilling chapter of: CirNoir, Private I!
>> No. 574
did you just feghoot

was that a fucking feghoot
>> No. 583
>>574
Depends. Is it possible to do one without any prior knowledge about what "feghoot" even means?
>> No. 597
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DOCUMENT 05
-ASSISTANT'S DIARY-

Day 1
Not sure why I'm doing this, but since this is more or less the start of a new direction in my life, I guess I may as well make a record of it to look back on someday.

Anyway, I suppose I should start at the beginning. I needed money, badly. I also needed food and a roof over my head, but since I couldn't really get either of those without money, it's simpler to just say I needed money. Since I refused to stoop to doing anything illegal, I obviously had to get myself a job. It was an amazing stroke of luck that I found that crumpled up newspaper with a Help Wanted ad from that clinic in the forest. With nothing else to do, I decided to look into it, and sure enough they had need for someone to help out around the place. The work itself was nothing too special, really, just basic manual labor around the place, but the pay was good, and they even offered room and board, to boot. They even threw in free medical care at the clinic, should it ever be needed. While I'm not too fond of pain, with a doctor like that treating me, I'm not sure if I would mind breaking a few bones, if you know what I mean.

In any case, tomorrow's my real day of work, so I better make sure to get plenty of rest.


Day 7
Well, it's been a week, and I have to say the work isn't bad.
It's not quite what I would have expected from working for people running a clinic, but I'm not complaining. Hauling boxes of paperwork around and basic cleaning beat transporting blood and urine samples and cleaning up after puking patients any day of the week.
The company isn't bad, either.
The doctor's main assistant is rather cute, or at least what little I've seen of her seems to be. I don't know if it's me, or if she's just shy, but she never seems to hang around for long when I'm there, and when she is there she's usually rather quiet. I don't think she's ever so much as looked me in the eye once since I came here.

Her little friend is a different matter. She looks like a cute little girl, but something about her just makes me feel like I have to stay on my guard and make sure my wallet is still in my pocket.

And then there's the doctor herself. Oh man, what a woman. I don't get to see her too much when she's working in the clinic, of course, but in all of the times we've spoken she has been absolutely charming. I'm almost wondering if it would be worthwhile to have myself a little “accident” so I had an excuse to see her some more. Maybe bad enough that I needed help with even simple things like bathing, and then...

No, no! Bad! Don't have impure thoughts about your boss!
I think that's more than enough for tonight.


Day 15
Work is going well, or so I would say if it wasn't for that damn girl's constant pranks.
I don't know why she keeps doing it, but it's starting to piss me off a little bit. I don't dare let it show, though, otherwise she would know she was getting to me. If she didn't already know, that is.

I don't let it get me too down, however. The doctor's occasional words of encouragement just seem to make all of that stuff not matter, and I can get through the rest of my day in a relatively good mood.
Day 26
Work is predictable, but steady. The place feels just like home by now, too.
I think I even managed to get a glimpse of this “Princess” everyone talks about once or twice.
For someone who is supposed to be the owner of this entire place, it's strange that she seems to spend so little of her time anywhere else but her room. But hey, she's rich, so I guess there are stranger things she could be than a shut-in in her own home.


Day 31
I had thought that the clinic was about the only thing the doctor did here, but it seems she's also constantly working on various projects on the side. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. From what I can tell she basically manufactures all of the medicines she uses in her practice herself, so it's only logical to think she probably does all of her experimentation and testing in here, as well.

That's about as much as I could gather, though. Everyone here is nice, that little runt aside, but it seems like they do enjoy at least some degree of secrecy. Seeing how as I am something of an outsider, I really can't blame them for not wanting to be completely open to someone they've only known for a month. Even if that someone is also living there and working for them.

It'll just take time, is all.


Day 37
Great news! It seems my work here has been so appreciated, that I'm getting promoted!
Starting tomorrow, I'll actually be assisting with some of the projects the doctor has been working on in the clinic itself.
It should be interesting to see first-hand just what it is that they're working on in this place.


Day 38
Well, so much for finding out anything I didn't already know about what goes on here. For today, at least. I mostly just helped with moving some things around the lab.
Still, even if I'm mostly doing the same stuff in here than I did out there, the pay raise is nice.

Not that I had much time to enjoy it.

Seriously, I don't know how I got suckered into it in the first place, but I am never playing in any card game that girl's a part of, ever again. She cleans me and everyone else at the table out, and then says it must be due to her good luck. “Good luck” my ass. She must have been cheating, I'm sure if it. Nobody could be that lucky.


Day 41
Looks like I was wrong about this job being exactly the same as my old one. Every day so far I've been introduced to more parts of the lab than I even knew we had, and it seems there are even more that I've yet to see. I guess they didn't want to overwhelm me by dumping too much on me at once.

Among my new duties, it seems I'm now also in charge of feeding some of the lab animals.
Funny thing is, I didn't even know we did animal testing, here. You would think there would be some complaints, considering the nature of some of the other workers here, but perhaps they don't do anything harmful to them. Hell, maybe this place is less like the lab I thought it was, and it's something more like a veterinary clinic?

Just what kind of animals are they, though? The small, box-like kennels they're kept in seem designed to keep light out, and any time I feed them I just drop the food in through a little slot in the top, so I can't get any sort of look at what's inside. Maybe light is harmful to them? Oddly enough, they don't seem to need water, either. No one said anything about not feeding them after midnight, though...


Day 46
Nothing much new going on, just the same old routines. Move some stuff here or there, file this, don't look at that, and then feed the animals.
Just what ARE they, though? While putting some food into the feeding slot, I could swear I almost heard what sounded like...talking.

I'm probably just imagining things. It's not like there aren't plenty of animals can make sounds that sound like human speech. I was probably just misheard something and my imagination took over.


Day 48
I asked the doctor about the noises I seem to keep hearing when it's feeding time again today, but instead of simply telling me her usual line of “Don't worry about it, just do what I say and everything will be fine,” she told me that if I was really interested that she could bring me into a much more direct role in the project! I'd have to take a physical tomorrow to see if I'm qualified, but with the prospect of sating my curiosity and getting paid even better for it, to boot, there's no way I could pass this up.

Oh yeah, it seems that girl is organizing another game tomorrow night. I told her I wasn't interested after she cleaned me out the last time, but after some disparaging remarks about my manhood, I got a little too worked up and agreed to play, swearing that I would get her back.

Clearly I am an idiot, and a soon-to-be broke one, at that, but it's too late to back out now.


Day 49
I almost hate to say it, but perhaps there's more to this luck thing than I thought.

Ran through the doc's battery of tests like a pro, or at least as much a of a pro you can be at things like breathing, and after giving me a shot (which stung like a bitch, I might add) she told me that I was just the man she was looking for on this project!
I think even if I wasn't going to be paid more than I already was for this, I would still have agreed to sign on if I knew I could see her smile like that.

Oh, even better, that card game I was so certain would spell the death of my wallet and dignity? I actually won!
The girl looked like she was going to clean me out as thoroughly as she did last time, but on the very last hand I managed to pull out a stunning victory, earning back everything I had lost in not only this game, but the last one! Maybe even a little bit more than that.

Things are looking up!


Day 50
I didn't feel well this morning. Threw up a little and have a slight fever, so I had to call in sick. I was afraid it would look really bad to do something like that on what was supposed to be the first day on the new job, but the doc made it sound like it was no big deal at all, and told me to just rest and take it easy until I felt better.

I am so happy to be able to work for such a wonderful and compassionate woman as that. Though I wish it could have simply kept me from getting sick entirely, I guess I have that “luck” thing to thank for that, too.


Day 52
Still feel sick, even after staying in bed all of yesterday and today. Why did this happen so suddenly? Was it that shot? Come to think of it, I didn't really think to question what it was or why I needed it. But there's no way the doc would have given me it if there wasn't a good reason, I'm sure of it.

I'll ask her about it tomorrow.


Day 53
While I still feel a bit ill, I do feel better, mentally.
I talked to the doctor about how I've been feeling the past few days, that shot she gave me, and a couple other issues, and she seemed happy to answer every question I had for her.

It turns out the shot was some sort of vaccination to protect both myself and the test animals from infection. Seems there's as much a risk in me getting something from them as there is in them getting something from me. Makes sense, I guess.

As for the sickness, for whatever reason I just seemed to have had a bad reaction to it. The doc told me that was one of the potential risks in using it, but that such cases were generally very rare. I guess I have my recent bout of luck to thank for that, too. I wish it had just stopped at letting me win that card game.

In any case, since the shot is clearly not going to help me much, the doc gave me a bottle of pills to take instead. They're slower-acting, and come with some unpleasant side-effects of their own, which is why she generally preferred administering it via injection, but so long as I can get through the day without feeling like I was going to puke out my organs, I'll take my chances with the pills.

Of course, since I have to wait until I finish the full bottle before I'm safe to work, I'm more or less going to be useless to the doc for a couple days more. I apologized, and she just smiled and laughed it off, telling me not to worry about it in the slightest. Some things, she said, were best when not rushed, and that slow and easy is the way to go in these matters.


Day 55
I don't know if it's really the pills or not, but I'm not feeling nearly as bad as I was. In fact, I'd say I feel almost refreshed, in a way. I'll have to see if that lasts if some of these side-effects I've been reading about in the documents the doc gave me start cropping up, though.

I mean, discoloration in the urine sounds bad enough, but hair loss? Well, she did assure me that while the effects would almost certainly be alarming, that the these pills were otherwise completely safe, so I guess I have no choice but to trust her judgment on this matter. Still, my hair? Not that I'm particularly attached to it, or vain or anything like that, but I'm not sure how good I'll look bald.

Maybe I should look into getting myself a hat. They seem to be all the rage around here.


Day 59
Still taking the pills. Have been completely bald for about two days now. The feel of the air on my scalp is taking some getting used to, but it's otherwise not bothering me as much as I thought it would.
My pee changing colors was also a little unnerving at first, and had I not been warned about it beforehand I probably would have started panicking the first time I saw red in the toilet. Also, it seems slightly, thicker? Consistency-wise, I mean. I might just be imagining it, though.


Day 64
No doubt about it, my pee is getting thicker. The doc says that's also one of the side-effects, but as long as it doesn't hurt there is no real cause for worry.
Maybe it's the lack of physical activity, lately, but I think I'm getting soft in some spots. I don't feel quite as strong as I used to be, either. I suppose I should try exercising more, but I just don't feel like it. I'm starting to enjoy taking it easy like this.


Day 66
I am definitely getting softer. This lack of exercise along with these pills is really taking a toll on me. I don't even feel like writing more today. Going back to bed now.


day 67
not doing anything today
don't want to do anything either
just want to relax
slow and easy


day 69
somethings wrong
somethings very very wrong
cut myself making dinner
cut deep but no blood came out
thought it was odd so I squeezed and something came out but it wasn't blood
when you cut yourself it's supposed to be blood that comes out always blood only blood but there was no blood no blood no blood no blood no blood at all oh god what's happening to me oh god oh god I'm scared doctor please help me please


Day 70
Doctor came and told me it would be alright
Doctor said I don't have to take the pills anymore
Happy about that, very happy
Feel better but still don't want to do much
Doctor said not to worry so I won't worry
Just do what she says and everything will be alright



77
better better feel better
falling falling falling
legs in spain fall mainly on the plain
parts falling but do not mind
was itchy anyway
feel better now better and refreshed and not itchy
falling parts refreshing
going get refreshed some more



88888
falling gone gone gone no more no more mister leg and arm
easy easy so so easy falling falling gone gone gone
hungry hungry so ate them ate them ate them up

tasty tasty








uUu

TaKiTeZ
eZeZeZzzzzzzzzzz
>> No. 601
File 125162554445.png - (14.85KB , 343x284 , what.png ) [iqdb]
601
what
>> No. 695
File 125166882460.jpg - (51.31KB , 350x320 , a67160f818dadb94eb8a184fce92543d.jpg ) [iqdb]
695
Parallel 6: What Kind of Name is "Quote" Anyway?


Looking back on the past few months, you wonder just how it all managed to turn out like this...

One day you were swooning over the most beautiful woman in the village, and the next you were actually taking her out on a date. Years from now, you know you'll still regard that moment when she first said “yes” to be one of the happiest days of your life. And to think, all it took was mustering up all of your courage, downing a shot or two, using all your willpower to hold down your crushing fear of rejection, and just flat-out ask her.

In hindsight, you probably should have wondered at just how smoothly it all happened. I mean, that she said yes to you, of all people is enough of a miracle, but for her to not even have been seeing anyone else at the time? What are the odds? It's not as if she isn't well-liked by just about everyone, and you would think guys would be practically tearing each other apart to get a chance to go out with her. But then again, maybe it's that very perception that caused most guys to shy away from her, believing her to be too far out of their league for her to even give them the time of day. Could this be, as they say, what separates the men from the boys? Those who merely dream, and those who dare to make those dreams reality?

In any case, your gamble paid off, and for it you've enjoyed three months of romantic bliss with the most wonderful woman you have ever known. Oh, there were hurdles to overcome, of course. Keine's friend, the health-nut hobo, being one of them. While you could understand the desire to protect her friend from any undue harm or heartbreak, the intricate detail in which she described the assorted horrors that you would experience if you ever so much as made her cry seemed a tad excessive. The portion about what would happen specifically to your genitals, complete with shockingly graphic visual aids, was especially horrific. To this day you still can't look at a rice ball without breaking into a cold sweat.

The biggest obstacle, however, had surprisingly come from Keine herself. Most of the time, she's as warm and caring as she's always been, but about once a month something in her seems to...change. While still still appears to enjoy spending time with you, you can't help but notice her becoming increasingly moody and distant as the night of the full moon approaches.

At first you wondered if it was some hormonal thing, but you think flat-out refusal to so much as see you is perhaps a bit too extreme for it to be something like that. You also wondered if it really did have something to do with her work, as she claimed to be the case, and the mounting stress that can come along with it. You certainly can appreciate how taxing crunch-time can be. Finally, you wondered if it had anything to do with the way that on the night of the full moon she transforms into a creature that can alter history at will, if by “transform” you mean “looks exactly the same as normal, but with horns and a tail and a different-colored dress”. As if that were a big secret around here. Really now, if you're not clued in to the fact that your village's self-appointed protector sprouts horns and a tail once a month, you just aren't paying attention.
Though you were certain that she was well-aware of her condition being public knowledge, the idea of her trying so hard to keep something so widely known a secret strikes you as being rather cute, in a way.

And so you began to ask to come over to be with her on her “special nights”. At first she was resistant, explaining that she just had too much work to take care of and how unfair it would be for you to have to be there if she were in a bad mood, but you were resolute. You told her you didn't care how boring the wait for her to finish her work for the night might be, nor how much of a bad mood she might be in when she was done. If you could do anything at all to help make her night better, or even help relieve any stress she might have, you wanted to be there for her, no matter what. As her eyes began to tear up, and as she proceeded to wrap her arms around you in the tightest hug you've ever felt from her, you knew from the bottom of your heart that this was the right thing to do.

And so, on the night of the full moon, you made your way to Keine's home on the edge of town, a bouquet of flowers and bottle of wine in your hands. Though you wondered if this was really going to happen, upon finding that her front door was indeed unlocked, you knew she was not going to turn you away tonight. Letting yourself in, as she had told you to do, you announce your presence, and are greeted by the sound of your love's voice from down the hall, telling you to make yourself comfortable as it would be a while before she was finished. Being the good, considerate gentleman you are, you do as you are told and occupy yourself reading a nearby book.

After what must have been hours of patient waiting, you hear a door open and close from down the darkened hall, and hear the voice of your dearest speak, apologizing for taking so long, to which you reply it was no trouble at all.

After a brief silence, her voice once again comes from the end of the hall.
“Are you sure about this? I don't want you to feel you have to be here if you do no-”
You cut her off before she can finish and tell her that you're certain, you've never been more certain than anything before in your life, and that nothing is going to change that.
When she speaks again, you can practically hear the tears falling down.
“Thank you...you have no idea how happy that makes me. Well then, in that case, let us begin.”

Begin? Begin wha-

But before you can even finish your mental question, your eyes barely register the image of a greenish blur rushing towards you, striking with a force that reminds you of that time you ran head-first into a boulder on a dare. With pain surging through your skull, you black out and lose consciousness.

You don't know how long you were out, but it couldn't have been long, as the moonlight streaming in through the windows of the now-darkened room tell you it's clearly still night. More pressing than the question of how long you have been unconscious, however, is the question of why you were now completely naked below the waist. Where the hell are your pants?! You don't have to wonder long, however, as the answer soon presents itself in the form of a clearly-transformed Keine standing in the doorway, bouquet of flowers and bottle of wine in hand. Even in the dim moonlight, you can clearly see that she is no longer in her usual dress but is now wearing your pants. You're almost positive that it's your underwear that she now has tied in a bow around one of her horns, too. As she stands staring at you, completely silent but for the sounds of her chewing on the flowers and taking the occasional swig of wine, you notice that about the only thing of yours she isn't wearing, and for that matter the only other thing she seems to be wearing at all, is a strange set of shoulder pads, the kind you occasionally saw young men wearing while playing certain sports.

Forgetting all about your half-naked state, you quickly get to your feet, and are about to ask what the hell is going on when your beloved, having finished her meal, tosses the chewed-upon stems to the floor, polishes off the rest of the wine, and begins to approach you, her red eyes glowing faintly in the darkness.

“Keine, darling, wh-what's come over you?” you barely manage to stammer out.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUGHAAAAGH! YOU BEST BRACE YO SELF CAUSE YOU IN MY HOUSE NOW! THERE AIN'T NO GETTING OFF THIS TRAIN YOU'RE ON, BABY! YOU'RE ON THE TRAIN! THE PAIN TRAIN, OOOOOOOOHYEEEEEEEAH! HERE IT COMES, COMIN' TO PUNCH YO TICKET! WOOOOOOOOOOWOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Moving almost too fast for your eyes to follow, you find yourself once again on the floor, this time face-down, and before you can even cry out, you feel the unmistakable sensation of something being forcibly inserted into your rectum.

“OH YEAH, BABY! WE'RE BRINGIN' THA RAIN! RAIN ON THA' TRAIN LIKE WE WAS IN SPAIN! HOOOOOOOOOOOWAAAAAAGH!”
As much as you would love to question what the hell she is talking about, you find yourself far too distracted by the way she has begun to thrust what you are now fairly certain is the bottle of wine in and out of your lower bowel.

“AAAWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
What the fuck, now a wolf?! As she removes the bottle from your ass and flips you over onto your back, you realize you're going to be having trouble sitting for a good couple of weeks after this.

“OH WHAT'S THAT WE HAVE HERE, LOOKS LIKE SOMEONE DIDN'T DO THEIR HOMEWORK! UUUUUUNGH! UUUUUUUUUUNGH!” she screams at either you or your now-erect cock. You can't quite tell which. Wait, why the fuck is this making you hard, anyway?
Goddamn prostate stimulation. God. Fucking. Damn.
“YA DON'T DO THA HOMEWORK, YO GONNA GET WORKED HOME, WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUGUUUGAHAAAHAHA!” she continues, and just before she slams her head right into your crotch. Repeatedly.
The good news is, you've completely forgotten about the literal pain in your ass. The bad news is, you're now singing falsetto.

“WE PACKING IT ALL UP IN THIS BITCH, DAT JOE FRAYZUH CAN'T STEP TO THIS NONE, UH-UHN, BABY! AHM THA MASTAH OF ANAL DISASTAH! OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAUH!”
“W-wait! Wait!” you can barely yell out from all of the pain you're now feeling.
“AIN'T NO WAITING ON THE TRAIN, BABY! YO GET ON OR YO ASS DON'T GET ON AT ALL! IT'S CAVE TIME, BABY!”
“NO KEINE! NO!
“LEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOY-”


As your wailing cries echo throughout the village, many a man raises a glass in silent salute to one of their fallen brothers, one who dared make real his dreams of flying, and came too close to the sun.
>> No. 704
Great.
>> No. 708
>Episode 01: Undulating License of Severe Threats?! The Grand Announcement's Meandering Existence!
I just now got this.
>> No. 713
>>708

Got what? I don't se-

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF
>> No. 749
>>708
You jerk, if you hadn't said anything I could've just ignored it.
>> No. 791
>>708
OhhhhhhhhhhhhhIhateyou.

This thread still rocks, though.
>> No. 792
>>708
>>713
>>749
>>791

Okay guys, I've been staring at this for a while. What exac- Fuck.
>> No. 793
>>695
I died laughing.
>> No. 1592
File 125248834971.jpg - (46.67KB , 420x492 , 1181892880127.jpg ) [iqdb]
1592
Welcome back to our ⑨ Day Marathon: ⑨ days and ⑨ nights of ⑨ hour blocks of the cult hit series CirNoir: Private I. Every episode, back-to-back, with minimal commercial interruptions, but not really because we just increase the length of the breaks to compensate for the decreased quantity, and we know you'll sit through them all so you don't miss anything when the thing you actually want to watch comes back on!


Night time has fallen on the lake like an idiot trying to fly for the very first time and doing a very bad job at it. A few drops of rain begin sprinkling down from above, as if a bunch of angry fairies decided to start spitting for some reason. Actually, I'm pretty sure that's what's happening. Because I asked them to. On a night like this, it's all about the ambi-am-ambal...ambulan-...it's all about that thing. If you don't know what I mean, you must be an idiot.

Walking the same old paths, trying to wrap my head around the past few days, I find myself going in circles, literally and not so literally. Ever since that dame came my way, my life has been spiraling down on a one-way bus ride where everyone gets on but nobody gets off. Except there are no buses here in Gensokyo. You'd have to be an idiot to think something like that.

One thing was certain, and it was that a thief was on the loose, snatching memories like my friends and me would snatch candy from that one guy's shop, except it wasn't us doing it which meant it was probably bad and wrong. Also because it wasn't candy they were taking, but memories, which is stupid because you can't eat those. At least I don't think you can, and even if you could they probably wouldn't taste very good. Clearly the thief was an idiot, which would make catching them much easier than if they were not an idiot. And that gave me an idea.

. . . . .

Quietly making my way out of the glasses-man's shop with some of those cane-looking candies with the stripes on them, I resumed my mono-logging about what I was going to do to catch the thieving scum who was taking things that didn't belong to them, because that's just not right to do. Unless it's candy, then it's okay.

What had started out as a simple case quickly became more complicated than a thing that was simple. A run through of the usual suspects turned up nothing solid, but after visiting a few more times, the increasing amount of hostility some of them showed let me know I was making progress.

“You again? Look, I'm getting tired of this. I don't know what you keep babbling about, I don't want to play whatever weird game you're playing, and if you come back here again without so much as a donation to give, I will personally rip off your wings, grind them down to make snow cones, and force-feed you every single goddamn one!"

The red-white's threats told me I was on the right track. Also, that she clearly doesn't know how to make snow cones. I mean, what about the syrup? You have to have syrup on snow cones! That's one of the most basic laws of the universe and stuff! Still, I had no time to lecture the idiot about the proper making of delicious frozen treats. Time was ticking away faster than time when it's ticking at usual speed, which isn't as fast. That's relativity.

I had gone to the other side of the lake to see if any of my contacts had any information, only to find that the trail had gone cold. Literally. Mickey the Frog likely had the information I needed, but by the time I found him, someone already got to him first. The thief must have known I was getting close, and decided to put poor Mickey on ice. Literally.

Encased in a block a good four inches thick, I ignored why I used a method of measurement other than metric to instead appreciate the gloss and craftsmanship that went in to making Mickey chill out once and for all. That shine, those angles, the lack of bubbles which allow you to perfectly see the contents of the ice block. It was truly an awesome piece of work, but not nearly as awesome as if I had done it myself.

Clearly this had been done to send a message to me. A message that said someone was better at doing that thing that I do, but with them doing it instead of me. It would almost be enough to send chills down my spine if I didn't already have a bunch of ice back there already. It helps to be prepared for that sort of thing. You never notice a thing whenever someone drops an ice cube down your back, for example. Because ice is already back there, like I just told you. Only idiots need to repeat things. Good thing I don't have to repeat things, because repeating them is entirely optional, like wearing underwear. And also like that, people don't like it when you don't do it sometimes, and might even get mad. But sometimes you have to make a stand for what you know is right, and right now I was standing so I was part way there already.

The gauntlet had been thrown, except it was more like a block of ice with a frog in it rather than whatever a gauntlet is supposed to be, and it wasn't really thrown. I think. It seemed to be just sitting there, like frogs and ice and frogs in ice tend to do. In any case, this case has was beginning to heat up, which I guess is supposed to be good though I can't imagine why. But then again, maybe the guy who said that was stupid or something.

Swearing to avenge Mikey the Frog for getting frozen by someone other than me, because it's only okay for me to do that sort of thing because that's what I do. After all, I'm an ice fairy. That's my job. I was going to get to the bottom of this frog-freezing case, one way or the other.

On the lake that knows how to keep its secrets, because lakes don't talk which makes them very bad for conversations, one fairy, alone, betrayed by the country she loves seeks out the questions for life's difficult answers. Wait, strike that. Reverse it. She is...CirNoir, Private I!


Stay tuned for more of the ⑨ Day Marathon after these messages! And coming next week, don't miss the season premier of the super smash hit series Kazami's Unlikely Botany! When a clueless-yet-promiscuous reporter gets in over her head on a greenhouse project for growing vegetables in the off-season, it's up to Yuuka and Medicine to take on the challenge of getting things back on-schedule, and maybe teaching her a thing or two while they're at it! Will they finish in time? Will the reporter stop touching the tools inappropriately long enough to learn anything? Find out this and more on the next exciting installment of Kazami's Unlikely Botany, Episode 25: Tengu A-Goo-Goo! or You Can Lead a Horticulture, But You Can't Make Her Think!
>> No. 1622
File 125254116332.jpg - (30.78KB , 272x339 , cirnodrool.jpg ) [iqdb]
1622
>>1592
And there I was afraid it was over.
>> No. 1734
File 125299155361.jpg - (33.68KB , 533x423 , 1168466024032.jpg ) [iqdb]
1734
“Youmuuuuuuuu~”
A familiar whine drifts into the kitchen, but I pay it no mind and continue chopping vegetables for dinner.

“Yoooooooumuuuuuuuuuuu~”
The cry comes again, even more pitiful-sounding than before. Although I've long since become accustomed to this, I do wish she would at least tone it down a little.

“Yoooooooooooooooooooooooooooumuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu~!”
Just as I've finished the applying the final touches, I hear that same voice calling out once again, this time so sadly I could almost hear the tears in her voice. Figuring there will be no end to it unless I serve something, I forgo the usual preparations and opt to simply bring the entire pot out.

“Yooooooooumuuuuuuuuuuu~”
“Here you go, m'lady. Dinner is ready. Really, though, I wish you would try to be a little more pati-...EH?!”
“Yoooumuuuu~ Heeeeeeeelp!”

Barely able to comprehend the scene now before me, I barely notice the sound of the pot I once held clattering to the ground, let alone register the mess created by the spilled contents I would surely have to clean up later. Even after a few moments of stunned silence, I'm still not sure I'm really seeing what I'm seeing. Coiled around her midsection, something I could only describe as the largest snake I had ever seen appeared to be eating Lady Yuyuko!

“Yoooooooooooumuuuuuuuuuuuu!”
The sound of Lady Yuyuko's voice is all that's needed to snap me out of my befuddled state. In but a split second, I'm ready to spring into action. It matters not how nor why this has happened, the simple fact that something is attacking Lady Yuyuko is all that matters. Something that must be slashed immediately.

Sword at the ready, I quickly move in for the killing strike, and in one swift motion I-
“Waaaaaaaait!”
-stop dead in my tracks.

“L-Lady Yuyuko?! Why di-”
“Don't hurt it!”
“Eh?”
“Don't hurt it!” she repeats, tears welling in her eyes.

Of all the...
Although she says things that are incomprehensible to me even in the best of times, I can't help but think this takes it to a whole new level. Lady Yuyuko is being attacked, crushed, devoured, even! Why would she not want me to strike down such a creature?! For what purpose would she call for me to come to her aid if not to slash her scaly assailant?
Wait a moment...for that matter, why would Lady Yuyuko even need to call upon me for such a thing? She is a ghost! More than that, she has the power to invoke death in any mortal creature at will! Even if she did not wish to use that power, as she very seldom does, at the very least she should be able to easily free herself by becoming incorporeal!

I express as much to my mistress-in-distress, only to get a pout in response.

“Don't wanna~.”
“...what?”
“I don't wanna kill it, don't wanna hurt it.”
“Then why do you not simply free yourself without harming it?”
“Don't wann-”
“WHY NOT?!”
At this, Lady Yuyuko sniffles.

“H-how can you be so cruel, Youmu! So cruel! Just look at the poor thing! How hungry it must be! Although I have no organs to crush, nor breath to steal, it's squeezing me with every bit of its might, and trying to consume me with everything it has! How can you look upon such determination and honest effort in the face of hunger with anything but pity and admiration?! So cruel, Youmu~!”

Oh of all the...is she crying? Lady Yuyuko, why are you looking upon this thing so fondly?! As her tearful gaze meets the snakes cold, unblinking stare, could it be she sees herself in some strange way? A gluttonous ghost and a creature capable of swallowing whole things many times larger than it; is this what you would call a meeting of kindred spirits?!

“...My Lady. Just what, then, are you expecting me to do about this?”
“I dunno, just...help.”
“And I am saying I don't know what help I am supposed to give!”
“There's no need to shout, Youmu.”
Lady Yuyuko scolds me, even as that thing slowly inches more of her down its already-stretched gullet. I shudder to think what she would be like if she could unhinge her own jaw in such a manner.

“...there is something you could do to help.
“Eh? Yes, M'Lady? What is it?”
“Could you bring Yukarin here?”
“Lady Yukari? Of course! But wh-”
“Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease~!”
“As you wish, then. Please try to...hold on? I guess?”
“Hurry baaaaaaaaaack~”
Moving with as much swiftness as I am capable of, I depart to fulfill Lady Yuyuko's request.

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

After a couple hours of searching, struggling to get Lady Yukari to wake up enough to even register what I'm saying to her, and then being forced to carry her on my back, I finally return …

“Lady Yuyuko, I am back, and I have brought Lady Yuka-GAH!”
“Welcome back!”

That my Lady could reply so cheerfully, despite the fact that the creature had by now engulfed all but her head is either testament to either her uncanny grace under pressure, or her appalling inability to read the mood of a situation. Or perhaps they're one and the same. Suddenly, I feel the woman on my back stirring.

“Mmmnh...g'mornin, Yuyu...”
“Yukarin! I'm so glad you could come! Look!”
“Hmm...?” The bleary-eyed Gap-Youkai blinks a few times before seeming to come fully to her senses.
“Oh my! I had no idea you went for that sort of thing, Yuyu!”
“No, silly, it's not like that at all~!”

As is usual for their exchanges, I have no idea what either of them is talking about. For some reason, though, I feel like that should make me happy, for once. Still, I can't help but ask for at least a little clarification.

“...um, Lady Yukari? Just what is that thing? I have never seen such a large snake before.”
“Oh? Why that, I believe, is what is known as a 'boa constrictor'.”
“I'm being eaten by a boa constrictor?”
“A boa constrictor.”
A boa constrictor?!
“I'm being eaten by a boa constrictor!”

I don't like this one bit. Especially not how happy Lady Yuyuko sounds about this. Not that she's in any physical danger, but such cheeriness cannot possibly be appropriate for this situation!

As if picking up on this thought, Lady Yuyuko's expression suddenly shifts to something far more solemn.

“It is time.”
And with those words, the snake completely consumes Lady Yuyuko's head, her form now only identifiable by the distended mass that is the rest of the great serpent's body.

“L-Lady Yukari! We must do something!”
“Shhh, just wait. And watch. Yuyu knows what she is doing.”
“What do you mean wat-”
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, THANK YOU.

What was that?! What the hell was that?!

I AM BUT A SIMPLE BOA CONSTRICTOR, AT THE END OF HIS LIFE. BEFORE I PASSED ON FROM THIS WORLD, I HAD BUT ONE WISH. TO DEVOUR A BEAUTIFUL GIRL WHILE TWO OF HER FRIENDS WATCHED.

What.

THOUGH IT WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE IF YOU HAD BEEN MAKING OUT OR SOMETHING WHILE I DID IT...

What.

...NEVERTHELESS, I CAN SAY THAT I NOW HAVE NO REGRETS FROM MY LIFE. WITH THIS I KNOW MY SOUL CAN NOW PASS ON IN PEACE. THANK YOU, SOFT-ONE, AND GIVE MY REGARDS TO YOUR MISTRESS. THOUGH I WOULD HAVE LIKED TO DO SO MORE PROPERLY FACE-TO-FACT, I AM AFRAID THAT IS SIMPLY NOT POSSIBLE WHILE SHE REMAINS STUFFED INSIDE MY DIGESTIVE SYSTEM

I...just...WHAT?

REMEMBER YOUR TRAINING, IT WILL SERVE YOU WELL. AND KNOW THAT THERE...IS...ANOTHER...SKY...Waaaguuuguagggkkhghghkkhgghghghgghgh....

With a shudder and release of stool, the great serpent shudders before breathing its last, and slowly fading out of existence, leaving a slimy, bile-coated Lady Yuyuko behind. ...I think she's crying.

Lady Yukari removes herself from my back, goes over to her friend, and the two sobbingly embrace each other to mourn the newly-departed.

Filled with equal measures of shock, confusion, and mild disgust, I leave without saying a word and retreat to my room, resolving to purge the slightest trace of memory of this event from my mind.

I mean, seriously. What the hell.
>> No. 1736
Another hilarious installment.

> BEFORE I PASSED ON FROM THIS WORLD, I HAD BUT ONE WISH. TO DEVOUR A BEAUTIFUL GIRL WHILE TWO OF HER FRIENDS WATCHED.
Godspeed, boa constrictor. You lived the dream we have all dreamt.
>> No. 1738
I love these so much.
>> No. 1745
>>1734
Manly tear.
>> No. 1746
This is the greatest thing.
>> No. 1806
File 125359837347.jpg - (77.82KB , 300x268 , flandrethegiant.jpg ) [iqdb]
1806
Sitting in my chair, I see my enemy across the table.
She's smiling.
Is it because she's anticipating her victory over me? Because she's enjoying watching me squirm? Or is there any point in trying to distinguish between the two?

All I know is that, so long as there is breath in my body, she will not break me. I won't allow her that satisfaction.

She's looking at me now. That smile is still on her face. That same, smug, self-assured smile. Damn you, don't look at me like that! As if you've already won! We haven't even started, and already you're imagining your victory, aren't you?! Don't you dare look down on me like that, damn it!

Of course, I dare not say such things out loud. Whatever relief I may gain from such a release would be cut short, along with my life. In even the calmest of moments in this place, I know that death is never more than a hair's width away. I'd almost welcome it, gladly, were I not certain that what lies beyond was a fate far worse than the one I now faced.

“It's a lovely day, today, don't you think?” she asks me.
Ha! “Lovely” indeed! A cat might think the same thing, but I doubt the mouse it just caught would share that opinion. But, of course, I cannot say as much. That's not how the game is played, now is it?

I merely make the subtlest of nods to show my agreement, and leave it at that. She doesn't care what I think or say, so long as it does not conflict with her expectations. I learned that lesson a long time ago, when she dealt with one of her earlier “guests”. The poor bastard. Even now I can see the faintest signs of a stain on the floor, the only sign that he had ever even existed. The knowledge that I might meet the same fate at any time should have been enough to make me break down and weep, begging for mercy from my captor. Instead, however, it only served to strengthen my resolve to survive.

“Oh! I almost forgot! We have a new guest with us today! Wait right here while I bring him in, okay?”

A new “guest” she says. More like another poor soul she's taken prisoner. In the beginning, I may have felt sympathy for them, but now I know that I cannot afford to have such feelings. Their deaths, while tragic, serve to help stave off my own execution. As they say about being chased by a predator, it's not a matter of whether or not you can outrun them, but whether or not you can outrun your friends.

She returns mere moments later, dragging her so-called “guest” behind her. He looks no more special than any of the others, but for the fact that he appears strangely newer and less-worn. Of course, that could just be another deception. Another part of the game. For all I know, that's probably not even the original, merely a duplicate that was used to replace it after it had been broken once already. Perhaps she could not tell the difference, or perhaps she could. Perhaps that, too, was part of the game, to see whether or not I would question it.
Of course, I don't. I've come too far, survived too long, to fall for such an obvious trap as that.

She drops the newcomer into his seat before returning to her own.
She's smiling again.

“Now that we're all here, I can introduce you to each other! Mr. Paddington, this is Mr. Dumas! Mr. Dumas, this is Mr. Paddington!”

Our eyes meet, and in an instant we say all that is needed without speaking a single word. Like it or not, we're both players in this sick game, neither of us strangers to danger. He knows the rules, and so do I. If either of us is to survive, we must strive for nothing less than a full commitment to that goal!

The game has already begun. Before either of us knew it, she had begun pouring out cups of “tea” and passing them to us. Whether or not it was what she claimed it to be, I do not know. I knew better than to try anything she attempted to feed us. Perhaps it really was tea, or maybe it was poison of some sort. The only way to know for sure was for someone to try it, and short of having it forced down our throats by our gracious hostess, there was no chance in hell either of us would chance it.

“Sugar?” she asks us, gesturing to a bowl of white cubes.
Maybe it's really sugar, maybe it isn't. Either way, I remain silent, neither accepting nor declining her offer. My fellow “guest” does the same. He's good. Or at least, well-informed enough to know how to respond.

It continues like this for a while. Our “hostess” making idle chit-chat, to which we merely silently agree with anything and everything she says. He's doing well, so far, behaving just like a good little stuffed animal. Not moving, not speaking, he thinks he's so clever! But I'm not worried, I'm sure he'll crack eventually. And when he does, it will be all over for him, and I shall live to see another day. That's how it's been so far, and I have no intention of seeing that change anytime soon. I will survive!

“Ah, these crumpets are absolutely divine! You MUST try one, Mr. Dumas!”
Heh. Just what I was waiting for. You were a worthy competitor, but I fear this is the end, just as soon a-
“Er, um...I think the bear should have one, first!”
...wait, what?! WHAT!?

“Okay! That's so very polite of you, Mr. Dumas! Well, Mr. Paddington? Will you eat this?”
Oh no. No. No no no no no no no no!

“...Mr. Paddington?”
No! NO! This can't be happening this can't be happening this can NOT be happening!

“...ANSWER ME! ANSWER ME, MR. PADDINGTON!
Oh god no, this can't be it, this can't be the end, I can't move I can't move I can't move!
GEEEEEREEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!

Oh. I'm being torn apart. This should hurt, shouldn't it? You would think this sort of thing would hurt. Ah, there goes one of my eyes. I was rather attached to that one.
As my hostess/nemesis continues to tear into me with a screaming, frothing rage I had hoped to never experience first-hand, I barely have time to process the way my body is being literally torn to shreds. My stitches ripped apart, my stuffing bursting from within and flying through the air, and through it all I can see him. The one who brought my streak of survival to an end. The one who, where others would have perished, he managed to steal his chance at survival by bringing her wrath down upon another.

Of course, knowing what I do, I can't help but find at least some comfort in knowing that he will come to wish it had been him in my place, after all. He may have bought himself his survival at this moment, but the game has only just begun for him! Compared to the things he'll surely have to face, ending up like this isn't so bad! Ha ha ha ha ha haa haaa! It's almost a shame I cannot actually speak, because if I could I would most assuredly work in as much laughter between my screams of agony as I possibly could.

As my consciousness fades and my world goes black, I find myself feeling a strange mixture of hatred and sympathy, of contempt and admiration for this stranger.

Well-played, you bastard. Well-fucking-played.
>> No. 1807
I can unambiguously say that this ranks among the best things I've ever read.
>> No. 1808
>>1806
This is brilliant and I feel like a better person for having read this.
>> No. 1809
File 125363074434.jpg - (60.80KB , 400x550 , approval.jpg ) [iqdb]
1809
This is approved.
>> No. 1831
This was wonderful.
>> No. 1834
This goes onto my list of Looked-stupid-but-turned-out-brilliant things I've found on this site.
>> No. 1874
>>1806
Amazing. Although I feel a bit guilty now.
>> No. 2285
File 125558526892.jpg - (94.75KB , 565x600 , ifIseethat.jpg ) [iqdb]
2285
Dead bodies~
Dead bodies~
Dead bodies are such fun~!

Where they're from, you can't tell
Roasting in the flames of Hell!
Dead bodies are such fun~!

How I marvel at the dead
In that Mansion, Oh-So-Red
Dead bodies are such fun~

Torn to ribbons, laid to waste
Some were even turned to paste~
Dead bodies are such fun~!

Gouged-out eyes, torn-out throats
Sailing on such lovely boats
Dead bodies are such fun~!

Water-logged, goodness sake!
Dredged up several from the lake~
Dead bodies are such fun~!

Zombie fairies come to play~
While I cart them all away~
Dead bodies are such fun~!

Birdies chirping, cicadas whine
Nabbed a couple at the shrine
Dead bodies are such fun~!

Mold nor flowers, neither grow
When the body's deep in snow
Dead bodies are such fun~!

Rotting flesh, pungent smell
Dried and brittle, burns so well~!
Dead bodies are such fun~!

Even living, stunk so bad
Stupid Oni, he's dead, I'm glad
Dead bodies are such fun~

So I said his days are through
I'm going to put him in my stew~
Dead bodies are such fun~! Yum!

Dead bodies~
Dead bodies~
Dead bodies are such fun~!
>> No. 2290
>>2285
Like this much better than the other one.
>> No. 2294
>>2285
That needs to be a song. Mikufags?
Wait, do we even have one of those?
>> No. 2297
>>2285
I feel like I should know what this is a reference to, and I do not.
>> No. 2298
>>2297
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LrfgCEsg_go
>> No. 2319
>Don't Read This

Worst advice ever.
>> No. 2325
>No more for me, thanks. I'm stuffed
Heh, I just got this.
>> No. 2403
File 125613165765.jpg - (58.62KB , 450x420 , cave.jpg ) [iqdb]
2403
A special kind of love.
>> No. 2571
File 125672738054.jpg - (284.59KB , 500x600 , timetodie.jpg ) [iqdb]
2571
“No! Wait! This is all a big misun-”
“You can tell me in Hell. When it freezes over.”
“P-please! Ci-”
Pichyuuuuuuun~

It was over, the pichyuuuuun like a period on the end of the sentence that was this case, and not just a regular one, but one of those really, really, really long ones that seem to drag on too long, overstaying its welcome like a guest who doesn't know when to take the hint to leave. A sentence like that one just now. A running sentence. They call it that on account of how it keeps going. And going. And going. On and on, like an idea that has long since driven itself into the ground. Not that I know anything about that, because I'm too busying knowing about other things. Lots and lots of things. If I didn't know these things, I might be an idiot. But I do, so I'm not.

See, when you've been on the job as long as I have, you know you've been here a while, and things like that seem as plain as day. Except it's not day, it's night. You must be an idiot if you can't notice the difference. Or in a room with no windows, which is kind of the same thing, and since they're the same I know I'm not an idiot. Because I am outside.

Yes. My reasoning is installable.

I decide to take a stroll around the lake to look back on everything that happened, and clear my head a little. I mean, a lot. Clear it out a lot. Because there's a lot to clear out.

How did this all start, again? I hardly even remember anymore. All I know is someone was doing something, and that something was something I was already doing, so I had to stop them from doing that stuff that I do. Because I am an ice fairy, and that's my job. Not theirs. If it was their job, it wouldn't be my job, and they would be me while I wouldn't be myself. There can be only one. Except for the times where there can be more than one. But that isn't one of those times.

Yet that is where we were, with me and a me that wasn't me but was trying to be me but wasn't me because I am me. The me that wasn't me seemed to know everything about the me that was me, my every move, my every action, and could reproduct them down to the smallest detail. Frogs I didn't freeze were frozen like I had frozen them. Candy at the glasses man's place was stolen like I had stolen them before I had actually stolen them. Frogs I didn't freeze were frozen like I had frozen them. Again!

The culprit, this other me, who I had started to call Onric because that seems like the sort of name that would fit them, was always one step ahead of me, which was even more frustrating because I don't even usually walk. After all, if fairies were meant to walk we would have feet instead of wings. Except we do have feet. Well, except for old Stumpalumps. I don't know why she never liked that name. It suited her!

Deciding that coming up with alternatives to Stumpalumps as a name for Stumpalumps was more important than thinking about all that other stuff that happened, I keep on doing that until I find myself back where I started, which is also where it all started. My office by the rock, home sweet home except it's actually kind of salty, especially that rock. As I entered and moved to place my hat-I-don't-have on my hat-stand-that-I-also-don't-have, I saw a sight that made my blood run cold. Or, it would, if I actually had blood. And it wasn't already cold.

Laying on the grass-skin carpet was none other than the dame who started this crazy shindig, and from the looks of it she was in a bad way. A bad way of what, I don't know, but it was bad.

“Dai! Dai! What happened?! Speak to me!”
“Ci-...Cirno...wh-why did yo-”
“Shh! Don't speak, Dai! Save your strength! I'll find the one who did this to you!”
“Buh-buh-but i-it was y-yo-”
“First I'll have to check for clues!”

I survey the scene and find nothing amiss aside from the bleeding dame on my floor. Figuring that was the best clue I had, I decided to focus on that. And by that, I mean her.
From the looks of it, she had been shot by something. Something that could shoot. And than it struck me how I could figure out what struck her.

“Dai! I have an idea! I'll analatize your wound to figure out who did this to you!”
“...wha?”
“Don't worry, it's easy! All I have to do to figure out what made your wound is to make new ones until I find one just like it!”
“...w-whathefuuu-”
Pichyuuuuuuun~

As I thought, the wound I made was identical to the one that was already there. I had hoped it was over, yet Onric managed to get ahead of me yet again! Whatever I might think of this me that wasn't me, it was clear they were no idiot. No idiot at all.

As the sky began to light up like the sky usually does after it's been dark long enough, I couldn't help but smile. The game between me and the me that wasn't me was just beginning, and I had a lot of work to do.

A lot of work to do, indeed.

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

“So, what do we have, detective?”
“It's pretty much as you can see, young mistress. One of the local fairies was apparently attacked and killed during the night, shot twice by a projectile of some sort.”
“Interesting...it seems we've found someone who outranks my sister.”
“Outranks the mistress? What do you mean?”
“It's simple, detective. When this little fairy died, she got promoted from a mid-boss...” the girl pauses while putting on a pair of dark sunglasses to protect against the rising sun.
“...to an ex-boss.”

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAHHH!
>> No. 2573
This is the best thing that I ever didn't bother to read until now. Ever.
>> No. 2574
Awesome.
>> No. 2575
>Or in a room with no windows (...)
>Yes. My reasoning is installable.
Does it work with Seven?
>> No. 2576
File 125675127444.png - (47.48KB , 400x400 , 776.png ) [iqdb]
2576
>“It's simple, detective. When this little fairy died, she got promoted from a mid-boss...” the girl pauses while putting on a pair of dark sunglasses to protect against the rising sun.
>“...to an ex-boss.”

>YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAHHH!
I came.
>> No. 2577
Nice job. I love you, in a totally non-homoerotic way.
>> No. 2782
File 125746485840.jpg - (129.03KB , 600x600 , breakfastinbedisfinetoo.jpg ) [iqdb]
2782
“Um, excuse me? Miss?”
“Hm? Yes, sir? Are you ready to order, now?”
“Yeah, about that...I was wondering, do you happen to have any other menus I could see?”
“Oh, I am sorry, sir! If you are having trouble reading the menu, I'm sure we have some with larger print somewhere.”
“No, no, I can see the print just fine, thank you very much. The problem is I cannot understand what any of it is supposed to mean.”
“Many apologies, sir, but I am afraid we don't have menus in any other langua-”
“No, no, no, I can see the print just fine, I can read the print just fine, but nothing written in this thing tells me anything at all about what I'm ordering.”
“Sir?”
“Just look at this thing! It's just a bunch of vague names! No descriptions, no prices, nothing! How am I supposed to order something if I don't even know what I'm ordering, let alone how much it costs?”
“With all due respect, sir, but I do not see the problem. Everything on our menu is perfectly delicious and enjoyable. Why not just pick whatever sounds best, and enjoy it?”
“Why not? Because I'd like to at least know what I'm ordering when I order it! What if I'm allergic to something? What if I just don't like whatever it is I get? Can I at least send it back?”
“Of course not, sir. All orders are considered final, with no returns, replacements, or substitutions allowed.”
“See, that is why I have a problem! You can't even at least tell me what the hell any of these things mean, can you?”
“Oh, I almost certainly could, sir. However, I probably will not.”
“You probably will not. Right. Why not?”
“It would not be fair for me to influence your decision in such a way, sir.”
“Of course, of course.”
“Oh, please don't make that face, sir! I am still more than happy to answer any questions of yours that I am allowed to! So, please, by all means ask anything you wish.”
“Okay. Alright. Well then, what can you tell me about...let's see...what can you tell me about this one? The 'Corresponding Delusion'?”
“Oh, that is an excellent one, sir! Or perhaps it is not. Either way, it is perhaps one of our more sought-after dishes. Or not. There is, however, a rather long waiting list for it already, but if you like I could put you do-”
“No thanks. It sounds like it would be expensive, and I don't really have that much time to wait.”
“As you wish, sir.”
“Well then, what about this one? 'Tatara Surprise'? What does that even mean?”
“It's a surprise, of course, sir.”
“Of course. Anything you could tell me about what's inside the surprise, at least?”
“It wouldn't be much of a surprise if I did, sir.”
“I walked right into that one, didn't I?”
“That you did, sir.”
“Is there anything at all you can tell me about anything on this menu? Anything?”
“Nothing that would be of any help to you, I am afraid, sir.”
“I see, I see. I get the picture.”
“Oh! The boss might be able to help!”
“Boss? You have a manager I could speak to?”
“Sort of. Shall I bring her here?”
“And will she be able to tell me anything?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“Fine, fine. Bring her, please.”
“Very well, sir. One moment.”

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

“Good afternoon, sir. I understand you wish to speak with me?”
“Are you the one in charge of this place?”
“That would be one way to put it, yes, although I do have various other roles here as well.”
“Er, 'roles'?”
“Oh my, yes! Plot device, deus ex machina, antagonist, you name it and I can do it. Play your cards right, and I could even be a love interest, if you want! Such a pity that happens so rarely. You think I don't like being romanced just as much as the next girl? Well I do!”
“Er...”
“But no, no, it's always 'plot and scheme' here and 'just as planned' there and so on and so forth. Is a candlelit dinner every now and then so much to ask for? Even just a box of chocolates and bouquet of flowers would be nice!”
“Um, I'm sorry?”
“Oh, but listen to me carry on like this! You wished to discuss the specifics of our menu items, correct?”
“Huh? Oh, yes! That's right.”
“Well, sadly, I cannot tell you exactly what each dish entails.”
“Oh...”
“But I can tell you what each dish results in, if you like.”
“Results in?”
“Absolutely. For example, this one here?”
“Uh, the 'Scarlet Sneak-n-Peek'?”
“That one will kill you.”
What?!
“Oh yes. Kill you dead. Swiftly, brutally, and quite painfully from what I understand.”
“I don't think I would like that one.”
“Really? Why not?”
“Why not? Because it would kill me! That's why not!”
“Would that be a problem?”
“Of course it would be a problem! I don't want to die!”
“Hum. Well then, you probably wouldn't be interested in anything else on this menu.”
“Wait, you mean everything on that thing could kill me?”
“Probably, yes.”
“What the hell?!”
“Now, now, no need to get agitated. We still have plenty of things to offer that aren't on the menu.”
“O-oh? Really?”
“But of course! For instance, you could have one of our extended-course meals.”
“And what is that one like?”
“I'm glad you asked! It's a meal consisting of several courses, with each course providing you a choice of dish that you may have, all building up to the final one.”
“Well, that doesn't sound so bad. And it won't kill me, will it?”
“Not right away, no.”
“Oh, that's goo-...wait, what?”
“You see, each course is designed to build upon the previous ones, each of them mostly harmless on their own but increasingly destructive as they're combined together. If, by the end, you aren't dead already, you'll almost certainly wish you were.”
“That sounds horrible.”
“Not at all! The beauty of it all is the way the diner is in full control every step of the way, with each dish being entirely up to their own choice That way, no matter how it all ends up, they can take comfort in the knowledge that it was what they had chosen for themselves.”
“That still sounds horrible.”
“Well, admittedly, it isn't exactly our most popular item.”
“I would hope not.”
“Well, if that doesn't appeal to you, then the last thing I could suggest is for you to try your luck at our buffet.”
“You have a buffet?”
“But of course. It's right over there.”
“How did I miss that when I came in?”
“As you can see, it is quite well-stocked, and offers a wide array of things to choose from.”
“...and how many of them will kill me?”
“Pretty much all of them, I think.”
“...of course.”
“You're making that face again, sir.”
“I'm sorry, but I find this whole place to be rather ridiculous. Here I am, just wanting a good, satisfying meal, and here you're telling me that just about anything I pick is going to result in death. What the hell kind of restaurant is this supposed to be?!”
“I am sorry if you are feeling frustrated, sir, but here we follow the belief that anything good or worth having should not be merely handed over on a platter, but earned through hard-work and honest effort. If you wish to gain everything, you must in turn be willing to risk everything. This is true in almost all walks of life, so why should fine cuisine be an exception?”
“Not that I don't think eating out has its risks, but don't you think certain death is pushing the stakes up just a tad too high?”
“If it helps you any, sir, I can at least recommend to you the cake. That one most likely won't kill you. Probably.”
“Just 'probably'? That's not very reassuring.”
“It isn't meant to be. Desserts can be quite deceptive.”
“Well, fine, then. I guess I'll have some of the cake, then.”
“I'm terribly sorry, sir, but I'm afraid we aren't serving any more today.”
“What?! But I made my choice! I'm ordering, now!”
“I am sorry, sir, but we cannot serve anything more today. If you check back tomorrow, though, we'll try to have your cake ready for you then. Probably.”
“Probably?!”
“Well, you know how it can be. Maybe it'll be tomorrow. Maybe it will be two weeks from now. Or maybe we won't be able to open again at all. It's hard to predict these sorts of things.”
“Wha-? Hey! You're kicking me out?”
“We are closing now, sir. Don't worry, though. Even if we don't re-open any time in the near future, there are still plenty of other places you can dine at. Feel free to enjoy what they have to offer until then! Perhaps you'll even see me at a few of them!”
“But wha-”
“Byeeeeeee~”


“Well shit. Where am I supposed to go now? It's starting to snow..."
>> No. 2784
File 125746660817.jpg - (133.80KB , 251x600 , lonely_girl.jpg ) [iqdb]
2784
>>2782
> "But no, no, it's always 'plot and scheme' here and 'just as planned' there and so on and so forth. Is a candlelit dinner every now and then so much to ask for? Even just a box of chocolates and bouquet of flowers would be nice!"

Isn't it sad SacchinYukari?
>> No. 2785
>>2782
Fantastic
>> No. 2786
File 125746700316.jpg - (121.92KB , 900x674 , tatarasurprise.jpg ) [iqdb]
2786
I'd eat the Tatara Surprise, if you know what I mean.
>> No. 2787
>>2782
SNOOOOOOOOWWWW! DAMN YOU KIRA! DAMN YOU TO HECK!


Err... wait. I get the vague feeling that I'm doing something wrong here...
>> No. 2790
>>2782
Very easy to follow even without descriptions. Also has a very good point.
>> No. 2792
>>2782
> "But no, no, it's always 'plot and scheme' here and 'just as planned' there and so on and so forth. Is a candlelit dinner every now and then so much to ask for? Even just a box of chocolates and bouquet of flowers would be nice!"

Your like that because every good story need a good antagonist, and as your basically the most powerful Youkai in Gensokyo, you sort of fit the bill. And the fact that your so powerful sort of puts you in the 'out of the MC's league' category.

And if we needed something even stronger, you would most likely be the first to die.

Of course, you could stay back and let Wolfgang take you out when he comes...but you wouldn't, would you, as Gensokyo's protector.
Oh well, we like to see you in despair anyway.

SO CRY SOME MORE GAP HAG! WE, ANONYMOUS, SHALL FEED OFF YOUR TEARS OF DESPAIR! AND OH, HOW WE ENJOY DESPAIR!
>> No. 2793
File 125755360285.jpg - (36.33KB , 242x226 , upsetkeine.jpg ) [iqdb]
2793
>>2792
>your
>> No. 2794
File 125755564433.gif - (3.85KB , 100x100 , 121615542640.gif ) [iqdb]
2794
>>2793
>upsetkeine.jpg
>keine.jpg
>keine

I'm sorry, that's clearly Remilia.
>> No. 2795
File 125756557657.jpg - (15.78KB , 256x353 , laughingelfman.jpg ) [iqdb]
2795
>>2794
>> No. 2797
File 125756725015.jpg - (16.69KB , 256x352 , LegolasSniffingHand.jpg ) [iqdb]
2797
>>2794
>> No. 2798
>"I am sorry, sir, but we cannot serve anything more today. If you check back tomorrow, though, we'll try to have your cake ready for you then. Probably."

Cupcakes after 7 minutes?
Your satires never cease to amuse, anonymous writefag.
>> No. 2837
Son of a bitch. I didn't realize this had more things added since last time.

Good as always. I guess maybe this last Cirnoir installment wasn't your best, but the end of it was perfect.
>> No. 2872
File 125827875615.png - (286.27KB , 800x800 , NamusanturdayNightFever.png ) [iqdb]
2872
Oh there once was a maiden, kindhearted and fair
Wearing junk-like clothes, with gradient hair
She had love for the world, and she swore then and there
She'd bring equality for all youkai-kind

Well some of them laughed, some called her a fool
And tried to convince her that mankind was cruel
But she said “This I heed, it's a kind world indeed, and I shall show them the light!”

So she went around preaching for all of their sakes
From the center of town to the shores of the lake
And through it all much abuse she did take
At the hands of those close-minded fools

They scoffed and they jeered at the things she did preach
And all walked away from all she would teach
But she wasn't dismayed, and quietly prayed, that someday she'd show them the light.

As she continued her efforts, she traveled the world
With her cat and her mouse and a bloated dead girl
On a very Nice Boat, her plans were unfurled
Of the world they wished to create

Where human and youkai would walk side-by-side
There would be no more fighting, they'd see eye-to-eye
And they all agreed, it'd be a fine world indeed, one so full of laughter and light!

With hope in her heart and peace in her mind
She went to the humans, she felt it was time
To implore of them, “Help me with this dream of mine,”
“One of equality for all youkai-kind!”

Well they stoned her and kicked her and spat in her face
And yelled that they'd show her and her kind their place
And so as she prayed, they sealed her away, and for her then there was no more light.

So many years passed locked away in that place
In the depths of Makai, she saw nary a face
Not of friend nor of foe, twas like she'd been erased
And her deeds were forgotten in time

But then came a day when the seal on her broke
And when she emerged, it was as if a joke
For what did she see, but an unlikely three, were the ones who returned her to light!

There was a thief flying a broom through the air
And a pair of shrine maidens with armpits so bare
And before them all, the maiden declared
She'd bring equality for all youkai-kind!

Well they shot her and bombed her and called her a witch
Which suited her fine,at least she wasn't a bitch
Like those misguided three, whom she did see, and swore “I shall show them the light!”

She scolded them for being so boorish and crass
And for their rebuttal they just kicked her ass
And sent her back up to the surface at last
Back to the world she had once left behind!

And so her Nice Boat then became a Nice Shrine
She continued her efforts for all youkai-kind
But from what she could see, it was now fine world indeed, and one that was more full of light.

From what she could see, it was a fine world indeed, but she would continue her fight...
>> No. 2873
>>2872
Even though it doesn't work, my mind insists on putting that to the Fresh Prince theme.

I'm sorry.
>> No. 2874
Oooh, that's rather nice. Poems on THP are great.
>> No. 2875
>>2872
;_;

>>2873
Haha, awesome. I am now re-reading it with that tune in my head.
>> No. 2878
>with gradient hair
I never understood why the general fanon made up her hair like that. Bizarre.
>> No. 2879
File 125832888270.png - (69.93KB , 359x512 , Hiji2.png ) [iqdb]
2879
>>2878
>> No. 2881
>>2878
Well, would you rather have plain old, normal brown hair? Or have shiny, gradient, mystifying two-color hair? Especially if you just so happen to be a sexy youkai-jesus with tons of creative fans fapping to you and making beautiful fan art?

She just looks better that way.
>> No. 2885
>>2879
It's just a reflection of her scroll. Unless you want to believe that the fact that the color of the part above her head and her hair are the same is a mere coincidence.

>>2881
Well, you have a point. Gradient hair > normal hair. I was curious that's all.
>> No. 2886
It's amazing how Hiji's hair is the only thing that changes color because of the scroll. Also amazing how the midsection of her hair doesn't match the midsection of the scroll.
>> No. 2887
>>2885
Some think it was the lighting or backdrop of the stage instead of the scroll. I think it's better to enjoy your own image of her than worry too much about getting the details right.
>>2886
Actually, there are a few pieces of fan art that have small, sky blue highlights to better mimic the scroll.
>> No. 2888
This would all be less of an issue if the UFO ending art had been in color.
>> No. 2889
File 12585378474.jpg - (270.07KB , 786x521 , hijiririri.jpg ) [iqdb]
2889
>>2888
Won't the sprites suffice?
>> No. 2987
File 125923486573.jpg - (270.74KB , 1000x1000 , ehehehehehecocks.jpg ) [iqdb]
2987
We need to talk.
Meet me at the shrine.


As you climb the steps to your destination, you glance over the note you had found on your door, and try your best to push back the feelings of anxiety that have been steadily building ever since you first read it.. What could she want to talk to you about, to warrant such a vague note as this? As far as you know things have been as good as they've ever been between the two of you. Unless...she found out about that...

But, she couldn't have, could she? No, no, she couldn't have! Sure, you had the occasional close-call or two, that's to be expected with as much as they all tend to socialize with each other. Plus, if any of them had found out, you don't doubt you wouldn't be alive for very long after. So when you think about it, the fact you're still alive and thinking these thoughts is proof that you're still in the clear!

Heh. No matter how many times you go over it in your mind, you still can hardly believe it. You have, by some stroke of luck so great it's practically a miracle, managed to assemble yourself quite a collection of kinda-sorta-active girlfriends. Almost, dare you say, a harem of sorts. Not that you would ever call it such, least of all out loud. For various reasons, most prominent of which being the potential consequences you'd have to face if your deeds came to light, you've worked to ensure you're never together with more than one lady at any given time, and minimize the chances of someone else spotting you. It wasn't easy, but nothing worthwhile ever is. While a part of you dreams about the sexy potential of having them all together at one time, the sheer improbability of it resulting in anything other than your own messy demise keeps such thoughts planted firmly in the realm of unattainable fantasy. And, oh, what fantasies they can be.

To dreeeeeeeeeeam, the impoooooooossible dreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeam~!

It all started simply enough with a little fling with cute doll-maker from the forest. Things were great for a while, but eventually you couldn't help but find yourself wandering. The land is vast, and so full of sights to see and people to meet, and if those people were attractive females with few reservations about sleeping with someone they've only known for a relatively short period of time, then so much the better.

Not that you planned on things turning out like they did. You are, after all, not an experienced philanderer. You didn't set out to cheat on anybody! You just wanted to try a few things out with each girl, move on, and see who you liked better in the end. It's hardly your fault you wound up liking all of them! Besides, you just couldn't feel right about flat-out dropping any of them after all the time you spent with them. Once your sights were set on a target, you wanted to pursue it to the very end!

You just kinda...you know...locked on to a few too many, is all. Damn you and your inability to break up with people properly!

“Oh! There you are!”
A familiar voice breaks you from your thoughts, alerting you to the fact that you've arrived at your destination and now stand before the one who called you here. Looking, you might add, as adorably lovely as usual, even with that creepy thing she carries with her everywhere. Honestly, you could almost swear it was a part of her or something, the way she keeps it with her. But there's no sense dwelling on it now. The two of you exchange your usual greetings of hugs and kisses, and you get straight to the point, asking why she wanted to meet her there. Was something wrong?

“Hm? Oh, no, silly! I just have something for you!”
Oh? What could this be about, then? You certainly haven't been together long enough to have an anniversary yet, and you know it's neither of your birthdays...

She giggles at your confusion.
“It's a surprise~!”

A “surprise” she says. Coming from her, that word fills you with a strange mix of anticipation and dread. While some of her ideas for “surprises” have been of the “make you fear for your life and soil your pants” variety, there had been a fair share of much nicer ones as well. Egad, the things that girl could do with a cucumber and eggplant...

As you replay some of the juicier bits in your mind, making a note to see about a repeat performance later, you vaguely notice your being led to one of the entryways to the main building, finally stopping before one of the sliding doors.

“Now, close your eyes~!” she commands, and you obey. “In you go, then! Have fun~!”
You hear the door slide open, feel yourself being pushed inside, and hear the door shut again before you can raise any objections, or question why she made it sound like she wasn't coming inside with you. Well, you can ask her later, you suppose, and as you open your eyes you see...

...wait, this doesn't look like the inside of the shrine...just what the hell is going o-

Oh.

Oh FFFFFFFFFFFFFFF-
“SURPRISE!” a chorus of voices greets you. Very, very familiar voices.
A quick scan of the room confirms your fears, and you muster what strength you have left to avoid soiling yourself. Right now, in this room, you are face-to-face-to-face-to-face-to-face-to-...well, suffice to say you're staring at pretty much every single girlfriend and fling you've had, here. As they look at you with faces that are waaaay too pleasant-looking considering the circumstances, your mind goes into overdrive questioning just how the hell this happened. How did they find out? What could you have possibly missed or failed to take into account for this to happen? Just how di-
“For starters, because I told them.” a deadpan voice you recognize as Satori's comes from the crowd.

Oh. Right. Mind-reader. Fuck.

“Oh, it's not just her. Do you realize just how easy it is for most of us to check up on you at any place or time? There's no way you could do what you did without getting found out eventually~.” A mature-looking blond woman, apparently designated as the head of this gathering judging by how she's situated front-and-center of the group, now addresses you. Strangely, do you not recall ever being involved with her. You're tempted to ask her about it, but get the feeling that would only make matters worse for you, somehow.

“A lot of them weren't very happy, you know, when they found out. They wanted to do all sorts of nasty, unpleasant things to you. But of course, when it was discovered just how far your had allowed your affections to spread, we all came to realize that it wouldn't be entirely fair to everyone involved if only a select few were allowed to do as they wished with you before your frail mortal form was reduced to a few scraps of meat and a red stain on the floor. Besides, it's so rare for so many of us to be brought together by a common interest like this...”
As she speaks, you get the distinct impression that you do not like wherever this is going, even if outright killing you was taken off the table. The way everyone is still continuing to look upon you with those eerily pleasant-looking expressions of theirs makes it all that much worse.

“So, we all got together and tried to figure out what would be best for everyone, when it came to us. We would get our revenge upon you by giving you the one thing you have always wanted...”

Wait, what? She couldn't possibly mean...
“Oh yes, that's precisely what I mean. All of us. At one time. How does that sound to you?”
That...doesn't sound that bad at all, really. What's the catch? There's a catch, isn't there? There's gotta be a catch.

“No catch! Just you, us, and all the time in the world. We won't kill you, burn you, tear you limb from limb, or anything like that. When it's all over, we can all go on our way, and you can walk out of here without needing to worry about anyone here coming after you again. Well, you might not be walking out of here, exactly, but you get my meaning. How does that sound?”
Frankly, that sounds like you would like that very, very much.

“Oh, I'm glad! Well then, let us begin~!” the blond woman says, cheerfully clapping her hands together.

Just as you're about to ask just how this is going to work, a blur of green and silver enters your vision, and a crack of pain surges through your skull. As you black out from the pain, you could swear you hear the sound of someone imitating a train whistle.



As you drift back into consciousness, your head still throbbing from whatever the hell slammed into your skull, you attempt to take stock of your situation as your become able to see clearly again. For starters, the room you're in seems to be different, though at this point you have no clue where the hell you actually are. More importantly, you seem to have been completely stripped of your clothes strapped into some strange contraption resembling a dentist chair, your arms held down and your legs held open in some sort of stirrups. Try as you might, it would seem you can't move.

“Oh, but you can move, at least a little bit. It's no good if you can't at least squirm a little bit, after all~.” That woman's voice again. You turn your head towards the source an-holy shit.

If you could move your arms right now, you'd probably be pinching yourself to make sure you're not dreaming, because right before your eyes is a sight you never would have imaged you'd see. Each and every one of your “acquaintances” stand before you, wearing naught but the skimpiest of sexy lingerie, and apparently very much in “the mood” judging by how they seem to be rubbing themselves and even each other.

Suddenly, neither your headache or your current restrained state seem quite so bad. Though you would question just how this is going to work, possibly by a lottery or drawing straws or something, you're too preoccupied with burning this scene into your eyes so that you will never forget as long as you live. The delicious contrast of flesh and fabric, the cut of each girl's ensemble accentuating their particular, ahem, “assets” in the best ways possible. Oh man, you're already getting hard in anticipation, and they haven't even actually done anything yet!

Your eyes keep moving from side to side, gradually working their way down, further and further, bit by bit. Not a single detail escapes your attention, from the patterns of the lace on their bras, to the prominent bulges in their panties, to the way the light plays off of their oh-so-smooth legs, to the-...wait a minute.

Wait. A. Minute.

Like a gun being cocked, a thought clicks in your mind; something about this scene is wrong. Something here is awfully, terribly, horribly wrong. Like one of those “games” they have on children's television programs where you have to pick out the thing that doesn't belong, you reassess what should have been this vision of Heaven itself. What could it be? What doesn't belong?

Breasts? No, no, while some of the girls you've been with might have been a little on the “flat” side, you're still quite certain those are something females are technically supposed to have. So, what else could it be? Was there something else that stuck out as not belonging?
Well, those bulges were kind of odd, true, but why would those stick out as bei-...

Wait. Wait wait wait wait wait. It couldn't be. They couldn't possibly all have...
They're smiling again, as if the look you surely had on your face at that moment was all they needed to know exactly what it was you were thinking.. Hell, maybe it is.

“Well, ladies? Let's not keep him waiting!” the blond woman cheerfully exclaims. The gathering of women comply, and with almost perfect synchronization remove their panties, revealing that which had been hidden behind the thin layers of fabric. You wonder if this is what being in front of a firing squad felt like, but stop the comparison short before you begin to question if you would prefer bullets to what this arsenal of fleshy firearms would fling your way.

The panties now all removed and flung aside, the group now gather around you, their little soldiers standing firmly at attention, and all now smiling even more than they were. Speaking of “firmly”, you notice the distinct sensation of something soft-yet-firm poking you between your legs. As you begin to hear the sound of banjos in your head, you have to remind yourself that big boys don't cry-ay-ay.



How long has it been? You have no idea. Every second is like an eternity as your every orifice is pumped and pounded by a plethora of pelvic pythons. From Lady Kanako's rock-hard pillars of faith, to Okuu's pulsating third leg, glowing and throbbing with power that is both horrifying and beautiful, your meager defenses fell to the onslaught of their Ankle-Spanker Armada and stockpile of heat-seeking moisture missiles.. You fear your jaw may have been cracked under the vicious high-speed volleys of Aya's vein-laden meat-rod, and as soon as the blond woman entered the fray, you knew you wouldn't be sitting right for weeks once you had a good look at her high-powered spackle-hammer, which made you ashamed of even your own purple-headed love truncheon.

Eventually, be it from fatigue or boredom, the number of your assailants and their weapons of ass destruction began to decrease. Some left without a word, others felt the need to make their particular feelings known by spitting on you before leaving. In the final stretch, it was just you and the cute sailor girl giving you a jolly rogering with her captain's log. With you on the verge of passing out due to the pain and tiredness of being plowed non-stop for what must have been hours, she deposits her salty sea dogs into the already crowded port of your bowels, and merrily skips away, offering you a final wave and mouthing “call me” just as you finally slip into unconsciousness.



When you finally come to, sitting bolt upright as if waking from a nightmare, you take a few moments to realize you are no longer in the strange chair or that horrible room, but back in your own bed at home. From the light streaming in through the window, you guess it must be morning. For a second, you wonder if all of that wasn't just some seriously fucked-up dream, but between the strange sticky sensation you have all over, and the distinct sense of discomfort in certain parts of your anatomy, you find yourself with no choice but to accept what happened as real, and collapse back onto your bed.

As you lay there, broken and shamed and more than a bit sticky, you finally let out the torrent of tears you had been holding back all this time, not wanting to give any of them the satisfaction of seeing you in such a way. As you cry for your loss of innocence and ability to sit comfortably, for having gone from having so much only to lose it in such a fashion You weep for your jaw, which will probably never close properly ever again. But most of all, you let out a few shuddering sobs at the realization of a terrible truth; that despite the pain, degradation, and numerous fluids that will take forever to completely wash off...

...that was still the best sex you have ever had in your life.

Amid your quiet, unrestrained weeping, the sounds of a bird's song waft through the air.

Akai asashi ga risingu
Ore no penisu mo risingu


You really hate that bird.
>> No. 2988
>>2987
Oh dear lord.

Some small part of me is wondering if this is worse than TALE's "April Fools Rape".
>> No. 2999
>>2987
That one was... unexpected.
>> No. 3017
It must have been a pain in the ass to write that one.
>> No. 3018
>>2988
No need to get so butthurt about it.
>> No. 3019
>>3018
...wiseass
>> No. 3038
Hilariously awesome. I envy that poor bastard.

>>2988

May I get a link, or can it easily be retrieved from the archives with a ctrl + f?
>> No. 3039
It's funnier in context of the story it appears in: T.A.L.E.-01 by BlackAmethyst, which is in the archives (and falls into the category of dead CYOAs that are probably worth a read anyway).
>> No. 3041
>>3038
>>/eientei/15047

It's still on the site, but what >>3039 says is true. It's probably less fucked up in the context of the story. Still worth a read, though.
>> No. 3057
>>3041
I came like five times. Goddamn.
>> No. 3186
File 125993800091.jpg - (114.57KB , 359x900 , CirnockHolmes.jpg ) [iqdb]
3186
Daytime in the forest. The sun hangs overhead like a great big ball of bright and hot, and neither of those two things are things that I like. Well, bright is okay, I guess, but his friend is a total jerk. Maybe if he slapped him more, he wouldn't be such a jerk so much.

In my line of work, you think things like this when you do what I do, and right now I am doing my job. A lone ice fairy, alone, and on a stake.

“Isn't that 'stakeout'?”

For a moment, I could swear I heard the sound of a voice. The sound of a voice other than my own, which should be all I am hearing because I clearly said that I am alone by myself. Clearly I am imaging things, because only an idiot would say something when they weren't there. That's improbable.

“...what?”

Besides, there was no steak out anywhere. Why would it be out, anyway? Whoever that voice I certainly did not hear belonged to who didn't say anything, it clearly belonged to an idiot. I bet the steak is only out because they didn't order the corned beef brisket like they should of. That idiot.

“You know, if all you're going to do is ignore me or call me an idiot, I think I'm beginning to understand why Dai wouldn't play this game with you anymore.”

That name shot through my brain like an icicle through the brain of someone else, which probably feels the same if names were made of ice or ice were made of names, but then I wouldn't be able to use one or the other, and that would be stupid. Stupid, like a very stupid thing that was st-

“Okay. I'm leaving.”

A familiar voice called out to me, like hearing the voice of someone you know. Sure enough, there she was, a dame like the ones you only read about in papers, if the papers you read were about girls who dressed like boys.

“Hey!”

Dressed up to the nines, she made shorts and a cape work in ways you couldn't achieve in a kappa's sweatshop. Real classy, and almost enough to make me not wonder why kappa have shops for sweat, especially since they live in water. But I don't wonder, because that would be one too many non-sequesters for me in such a short time.

“Okay, okay, I'll stay. Could you just tell me why we're hiding in front of that doll lady's house?”

She fired off the million dollar question, like a gun that shot questions instead of bullets. The Doll Maker, aka: The Maker of Dolls. A lonely lady in a lonely house in the loneliest part of the forest. Lonely, that is, except for her dolls, and a secret.

“Uh, a secret?”

A secret, dark and smelly like something you'd see run down your leg and into your shoe, which is why I don't wear shoes. That's just disgusting.

“What are you talking about?”

A secret the likes of which the doll-lady has kept bottled up inside, building in pressure until eventually she can't hold it any more, and it begins to leak out. A secret you could only clean off in the bathroom, and if you had enough soap.

“...oh god, you don't mean...”

My partner's head went into her hands, almost as if she could smell the stink of the thing we were about to bring into the light. A dark, oozing thing that would probably be best if it was just flushed down the drain like so many other things.

“If it means not doing what I think you're thinking of, yes, that's probably for the be-”

Too bad that's not what I'm here to do. After all, I'm an ice fairy. This is my job.

“Since when?!”


-------


“Cirno, are you sure you really want to do this? I mean, I'm sure there are plenty of other 'mysteries' we could investiga-”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

The knock on the front door rang out like a bell that was doing a very bad job at sounding like it was supposed to, unless what it was supposed to sound like was my fist on a big slab of wood. Sometimes the best doorbell was the one that wasn't much of a bell at all. Or is that the worst?
Either way, there was no time to worry about it. We had come too far, too late to turn back or second guess the noises things were supposed to make.”

“Actually, if we run now I'm pretty sure we could get out of sight befor-”
“Yes? Who is it?”
“...crap.”

The voice from behind the door confirmed my suspicion about the suspicious suspect being suspiciously home. Except she's there most of the time anyway, which isn't really that suspicious, I guess. Not wanting to keep a lady waiting, I wasted no time in getting straight to the point, or at least didn't waste any more time than I did already. Procratsination is one of the perks of being in a job like mine, and maybe a job like yours, if your job was like mine even though if it was it still wouldn't be as awesome as mine. Because my job is awesome. Because I'm awesome. Yeah.

“Hello? Is anyone out there?”
“Cirno, come on, let's just leave! We don't have to do thi-”
“Detective, ma'am! I'd like to ask you a few questions!”
“A detective? Well, okay, give me a moment, here.”

The sounds of locks being undone from the other side floated through the door like something I'd compare it to if I hadn't already run out of things I could compare it to, right now, and after a second or two, which would make that a second second, the door opened to reveal the person who was behind it because it wouldn't make sense for her to be talking to us through it if she was already on the same side of it as we were.

“I'm sorry, but I don't understand what you're sayi-...oh, the fairy from the lake and the bug youkai from that one time? What brings you here?”

The dame started posing questions, but unfortunately for her she was the one with the answers that went with the questions we had, not the other way around. I decided to get straight to the point, but not an actual point because those things are sharp and could poke your eye out. That's what the lunchbox lady would always say whenever I chased someone with icicles.

“Um...what?”
“Bathroom! Wriggle really needs to use the bathroom! And I do too! Can we use the bathroom!”

Smooth. Really smooth. Smoother than a frog's bottom after it's frozen in a block of freezing ice. When you're that smooth, your questions don't even need to be actual questions. That's smoothness for you. And by you, I mean me, because that kind of smooth is all mine, not yours. You can't have any.

“Well, I suppose it's alright. Just, please, try to keep quiet? I'm trying to work, and I've got a terrible toothache right now.”

We followed the doll-lady into the house, my partner needing to be dragged in after she took too long to get moving. Realizing her importance here, she quickly got with the program, and the program was underway, having sped through the intro and opening credits like Letty speeds through those weird cakes the humans made to look like snowballs, but they weren't really made of snow. Stupid humans and their dishonest treats.

“Why is she talking to herself like that? She knows we can hear her, right?
“I think it's some sort of game she's been playing lately. I don't know where she could have picked it up, though. I doubt it was in anything she would have read.”
“She can read?”

Their attempts at whispering did nothing to stop me from hearing everything they said. Their inability to understand how infernal mono-log works only served to show their lack of smartness about stuff like that. Of all the tricks you pick up on the job, that's the first. Or the second, if the first trick is how to freeze stuff, which is awesome and useful. A little freezing never hurt anyone, anyway. Except for that one guy. And those frogs. Plus ice is quiet. And awesome. The quieter and awesomer it is, the more likely I am to use it. Freeze 'em right up. Makes it look like I'm serious and awesome. Knives for show, ice for a pro.

“...it's kind of creepy, isn't it?”
“It's like she's channeling dead crazy people.”
“Well, anyway, here we are. Take your time, try not to make a mess, and feel free to show yourselves out when you're finished. I'm going back to my work, now.”
“Er, thanks. Sorry about all this.”
“No problem. Now, excuse me.”

Alone at last, except for my partner, and so I wasn't really alone unless you meant the two of us were both alone with each other, which would probably make more sense now that I think about it, I prepare to get to work with my investigation.

“Cirno, come on, this is enough already! Let's just go and see what Mystia is doing or something!”

Her complaints fell on deaf ears, or at least ears that were pretending to be deaf, as I began to search through the cabinets for that thing that I was looking for because I knew it was here. The evidence I needed to prove my case.

“Cirno, look, there's nothing there but a bunch of sunscreen and lotion! That's enough searching, let's just go already!”
“Au contrain my dear Dr. Wriggleson, we've found exactly what I was looking for!”
“What? All I see is a lot of sunscreen and...wait, are those...diapers?”
“Silly Wriggly's, believe it or not, but the proof I need is right here. Concussive proof that our dear Miss Doll-Maker is-”

“So you figured it out, huh.”

Our eyes both shoot to the door like bullets that don't actually hit anything, but still land on the familiar looking lady standing in the doorway. Familiar because we saw her just minutes ago. Minutes that felt like hours, or is it really moments? Time is such an extract concept anyway.

”Know all about us, do you.”
“Wait, wait, this isn't what it looks like! We were just-”
“That's right, Miss Murgatrod! We know all about you!”
”Well then, there's nothing left to say, is there. DIE, JUNKER!

With a flip and a click, the Doll-Maker's mouth snaps open to reveal the high-power blaster hidden within her head.

“Wha-?! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!”
“It's just as I thought, isn't that right, Metal?”
CORRECT, CIRNO. WE CAN NOW OFFICIALLY CONFIRM THAT ALICE MARGATROID IS INDEED A SNATCHER. ACCORDING TO SECTION 9 ARTICLE 3 OF THE JUNKER CODE, USE OF LETHAL FORCE IS NOW AUTHORIZED.
“AND WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!”
“Oh, him? That's Metal! Introduce yourself, Metal!”
YES SIR. PLEASED TO MEET YOU, WRIGGLE. I AM METAL EYE SIGMA, MARK II. I AM PROGRAMMED TO BE CIRNO'S PERSONAL ASSISTANT. ALSO, TO MAKE THINGS DIE.
“Wha...how...WHAT.”
“Really, Wriggle, how did you not notice him here?”
CIRNO, THE TARGET IS STILL ACTIVE AND PREPARED TO COMMENCE HOSTILITIES. RECOMMEND FURTHER DIALOGUE CEASE UNTIL THE SNATCHER HAS BEEN NEUTRALIZED.

He was right, there was work to do, and I had to do it. I whip out my blaster and send a bolt of red-hot icy-cold contradictory death into the artificial Doll-Maker's head, causing it to explode into a bunch of chunks of head-stuff. Maybe the irony of a person who makes artificial people was, herself, an artificial person was too much of a contraction for her to handle. That is some major-league ironing, after all.

99.999% PROBABILITY CAUSE OF DEATH WAS THE RESULT OF HIGH-ENERGY EXPLOSIVE PROJECTILE FIRED INTO TARGET'S CRANIAL AREA. IRONY ALONE WOULD NOT YIELD SUCH AN EFFECT.

Well, yeah, but I'm pretty sure the explodey part was still because she was a robot and stuff. Robots always blow up when you beat them, after all.

CORRECTION: HIGH-ENERGY EXPLOSIVE PROJECTILES HAVE SIMILAR DESTRUCTIVE PROPERTIES WHEN FIRED INTO THE CRANIAL AREA OF NON-SNATCHER ORGANICS AS WELL

Oh. Well. So much for that.

IF ANYTHING, THE INSCREASED AMOUNT OF ORGANIC MATERIAL MAKES THE RESULTING EXPLOSIVE DESTRUCTION ALL THAT MUCH MORE BEAUTIFUL. A GLORIOUS RAIN OF MEAT AND BONE SHRAPNEL. WERE MY OPTICS EQUIPPED WITH SUCH FUNCTIONS, THEY WOULD MOST ASSUREDLY SHED TEARS AT THE SIGHT.

“Cirno, what the FUCK just happened?! You just killed someone! And since when do you have a creepy little eyeball thing following you around?!”

The questions kept flowing like water from a breaking dam, even though all the answers were plain as day. Really, to ask such obvious things, she was clearly an idio-
“STOP THAT!”

CIRNO, I AM NOW PICKING UP MULTIPLE ENERGY SIGNATURES INSIDE THE HOUSE CONVERGING ON OUR POSITION. DO YOU REQUIRE ASSISTANCE IN MAKING THEM DIE?

“No thanks, Metal. I can handle this much, easily.”
VERY WELL, SIR.

Blaster at the ready, I take aim at the door as the first of the new threats come into view. Huh. So they even Snatchered the dolls. Looks like this is going to be a long night...

IT IS STILL TECHNICALLY DAY TIME, SIR.
“I know, Metal. I know.”


----------


Meanwhile, at the Hakurei Shrine, countless onlookers cheer as Marisa Kirisame lets out an enthusiastic “ZEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE~” as she jumps her broom over a tank of assorted creatures fished out of the Sanzu river. And it was AWESOME.
>> No. 3187
> And it was AWESOME.

Yes, yes it was. Also liked the rest of the story too.
>> No. 3188
>Meanwhile, at the Hakurei Shrine, countless onlookers cheer as Marisa Kirisame lets out an enthusiastic “ZEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE~” as she jumps her broom over a tank of assorted creatures fished out of the Sanzu river. And it was AWESOME
Were those fish on fire?
>> No. 3189
>It Was Two Minutes Five Minutes Ago
Charlie's never going to finish those sausages, is he?
>> No. 3190
Fucking beautiful.
>> No. 3191
Hey. Author person.

I am giving serious thought to reading these Cirnoir bits aloud.

Would you like to hear your awesomeness in my amateurish, untrained voice, attempting to do your writing justice?
>> No. 3201
File 126000716370.png - (13.02KB , 256x133 , them.png ) [iqdb]
3201
I see what you did there.
>> No. 3202
File 126001135726.jpg - (298.75KB , 600x750 , cirnosegal.jpg ) [iqdb]
3202
>>3191
>>Would you like to hear your awesomeness in my amateurish, untrained voice, attempting to do your writing justice?

If we're talking about just my own interest in the matter, I'd say it depends.

How well can you sound like a little girl trying to sound like a grizzled hard-boiled detective-type character? Or at the very least, a little girl who has played a little too much Max Payne?

Really, it wouldn't even need to be a reading of anything I wrote, I'd just like to hear what that would actually sound like.

I guess what it comes down to, Anon, is are you a bad enough dude to be the little girl?
>> No. 3204
>>3202
Oh... well, I don't know about the little girl part of it.
I just wanted an excuse to read these aloud in the rough, cynical, hard-edged style/tone she's trying so hard for.
>> No. 3206
>>3204
Well, if you have a little sister or neighbor girl you can pay off to read these lines, that could work.

Or just put your own voice through some sound distortion device like Vocaloid. Though I have no idea how the system even works, so don't get your hopes up.
>> No. 3207
File 126004731185.jpg - (179.27KB , 550x400 , 04d5e070ca15cea04c80342f2fd2071f.jpg ) [iqdb]
3207
>>3206
Vocaloid, from what I understand, doesn't really work that way.
It's more like a more sophisticated, music-oriented voice synthesizer. Kind of similar to the text-to-speech function of Windows, where you type something and the computer says it, but with far greater control and a focus on replicating singing.

An audio editing program like Audacity to adjust pitch might be more along the lines of what you're thinking of.
>> No. 3285
>>3207
Dug out my old mic, got Audacity, got some good 50's detective noir-ish music, found a good spot to record in... No idea when I'll have the first one done, though.
I promise nothing in terms of quality or time, but I'm looking forward to doing this, all the same.
>> No. 3286
>>3285
I should also add that finding that kind of music has been a bitch.
>> No. 3287
>>3286
I, for one, am looking forward to it. In fact, I'd take a dramatic reading of >>206 and >>2872 while you're at it.
>> No. 3289
File 126112356023.jpg - (284.57KB , 800x1188 , evenaspompomsFOE.jpg ) [iqdb]
3289
Ah, that reminds me. Speaking of music that was a bitch to find, and >>2872
It was actually a shameless rip-off of based on this song:

http://www.mediafire.com/?mqymk2mjzy3

Or at least, shamelessly ripped-off of based on what I could remember of it at the time.
>> No. 3292
>>3287
>>206 , maybe. Not the other one, though.
>> No. 3454
File 126441681894.png - (98.90KB , 512x512 , IwishIwasabird.png ) [iqdb]
3454
Bliss.
That's what you would describe this sensation.
To be holding the one you love in your arms, tenderly and gently, without so much as a care in the world is without a doubt the very definition of bliss. And, yes, “love” is definitely what you would call it.

Oh, you were hesitant to call it as such in the beginning, when those first stirrings of emotion began to make themselves known in your heart. But, here and now, with the one who has given you so much; taught you so much, you can truly and honestly say that you love her from the bottom of your heart.

You run your hands through her hair and along the curve of her body, you inhale her sweet scent. Yes, this is truly bliss, and while you hope that she feels much the same as you at this moment, you find yourself filled with the desire to make her feel so much more than that.

As if to announce your intentions, you begin to rub her side in that way you know she enjoys so well, and in response she twists herself to meet your gaze. From just the look in her eyes, you can tell she feels as you do. With no other urging needed, you continue to rub and massage her soft body. Her occasional gentle sounds let you know you're doing well, and as your continue kneading her flesh you can practically feel her melting in your hands. Where at first your motions were clumsy and uncertain, with time and practice you've become quite skilled with your hands, as if you were a master sculptor and she were your mound of clay.

Under your continual massage, she begins letting out the cutest little sounds. Excited squeaks, breathless moans, and the occasional utterance of that cute thing she says every now and then; all serve to excite and arouse you almost as much as the sensation of your hands roaming across her body. Working your hands downward, slow and easy, you feel a warm wetness and know that she's as ready as you are. Whispering to her what you're about to do, she moans her assent, telling you to simply take it slowly. You have every intention to do just that.

Shifting your hold on her, you lower her into place on your lap, position your member at her dripping-wet entrance, and gently slide yourself in. It's tight at first, but you manage to gradually work your entire length inside her. Pausing briefly to savor the sensation of being surrounded by her warm, creamy insides, you give her side one more gentle caress before you start slowly pumping away.

While you try to maintain a slow pace at first, you find yourself unable to keep at it for long and start quickening your motions. The cute little noises she keeps making become all the more exciting when accompanied by the wet slapping produced by each thrust. While you find yourself doing most of the work, as usual, you don't mind in the least. Being able to make her feel as good as you feel right now is more than worth it. Speaking of which, you shift your hold on your beloved once again, freeing up one of your hands to do something that is sure to make her feel even better.

When she's as aroused as she clearly is right now, it doesn't take much feeling around to find it, and sure enough your hands detect the distinct feeling of something poking up from the surface of her otherwise silky-smooth skin. The sudden yelp she makes as your hand runs across it only confirms that you've hit pay-dirt. Taking it between your thumb and forefinger, you give her little nub a slight squeeze. While hardly what one could call “braggable” by any means, it was cute and lovely in its own way. Without breaking the now fairly quick pace of your thrusting, your hand gets to work rubbing her little love-nub between your fingertips.

Continuing like this, it doesn't take long for the both of you to reach your limit. With her cream freely flowing out, you make one final thrust and unload your own special filling into your lover. A warm, wet sensation on your fingers is all the sign you need of her own climax, further punctuated by a final ”MUKYUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN~” before she goes limp in your hands.

Basking in the afterglow, you pay no mind to the warm cream still soaking your lap, nor the complete lack of movement from your lover. You sit there without a care in the world, idly stroking her hair to wipe off the mess on your fingers, only vaguely thinking about whether or not it's worth rounding up some orange juice and a car battery to bring her back around again. Sure, your beloved is probably dead, your clothes will need a thorough wash, you probably ruined your favorite chair, and for some reason you find yourself with a vague craving for berries. None of that matters at all to you in light of how great you feel at this moment. Despite the problems of the world, as well as the difficulties of your immediate future, you still find yourself feeling strangely...refreshed.
>> No. 3456
>>3454

Hilarious. Wonder how the reaction would have changed if you chose a different picture, though.
>> No. 3457
>>3454
Fucking great. I wish you wrote more often.
>> No. 3458
I can't believe you've done this
>> No. 3459
I must be missing the joke here.
>> No. 3467
>>3456
Seconded. 'twas hardly a surpirse.
Still awesome though.
>> No. 3540
File 12657085104.jpg - (68.97KB , 600x414 , kingofthewooooooooorld.jpg ) [iqdb]
3540
Because I could not stop for Death,
She kindly stopped for me;
The small boat held but just ourselves
Adrift upon the sea.

(Though it's no sea, or so she said,
but a river, she does stress.
I think she's kinda full of it,
but hot, though I digress...)

We slowly float, she knew no haste,
And quickly put away
Her labor, and her scythe as well,
And whiled away the day.

We passed the school, where children ached
From impacts to the head;
We passed the fields of sunflowers
Where fools soon wound up dead

But before long, we both grew bored
Of floating in this way
My friend suggests, to pass the time,
A game that we can play

The rules she lays out for me, then,
are simple as can be
Warning, first, that should I lose
I'd pay the penalty

When she was done, I must confess,
With a great sense of shame,
I made a most grievous mistake,
and asked, “What's this game's name?”

And in a flash, too fast to see,
into the Deep I'm tossed.
“Tis simply called 'The Game' my friend,
And you just fucking lost.

>> No. 3542
Those titles jesus crhist.
>> No. 3543
>>3540
OH FUCK YES. That was good. Bravo.
>> No. 3544
>>3540
This makes the second or third time I've not bothered to check /gensokyo/ until the very last minute, figuring that you probably haven't added anything to this, and then it turns out that you did.
>> No. 3826
File 126908325392.jpg - (314.46KB , 1024x768 , TakeThis.jpg ) [iqdb]
3826
Names have been omitted to protect the innocent

“So, uh, how are we getting across?”

As the two of you stand on the shore of the all-too-familiar lake, your companion tilts her head to the side and blinks at your question.
“What do you mean?” she responds.

“Well, I don't see the boat anywhere, so...how else are we getting across?”

At this, she giggles, as if she were just asked something she found rather funny.
“How else do you think, silly?
“Swimming?”

Once again she giggles, and shakes her head.
“No, no, I was thinking something more like...well...”
Blushing slightly, she steps closer to you, and takes your hands into her own.
Wait, she couldn't mean what you think she means, could she?
“...I-I could do it.”

Oh god, she means exactly what you think she means.
“Wait, wait, wait, you mean carry me across?”

“You don't want to do it with me?”
As she looks up at you with a set of puppy-dog eyes that could induce cardiac arrest in lesser mortals, a part of you is silently thankful that no one was around to hear that just now. Although you had long since become accustomed to misunderstandings and the subsequent near-death experiences resulting from them that seemed to have become a daily occurrence for you, the lack of any such incidents so far today has been quite a refreshing change of pace.

“Er, no! No! I'd be more than happy to!”
Her expression instantly brightens into the most heart-melting smile you have seen from her all day. Goddamn, how can anyone ever say 'no' to a face like that?

- - - - - - - - - - -

The door closes behind you, and once again you find yourself in the mansion that had become like a second third home for you.
As familiar as the scenery was, however, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was odd.

“Say, where is everybody?”
“Hm? Well, Sis said she had something important to take care of at the shrine, and wouldn't be back until really late. Not sure about everyone else, but I think Sakuya went with Sis, too.”

Judging from how even the ever-faithful gate guard was peacefully napping at her post when the two of you arrived, you don't find it hard to imagine a similar situation with the various maids staffing the mansion. 'While the boss's away, the fairies will play,” you could say?

“So, we pretty much have the whole mansion to ourselves right now?”
“...I suppose we do. Isn't that great?”
“Well then, er, what should we do?”
“How about we go down to my room?”
“Er, your room?”

Just then it strikes you. You and her, a boy and a girl, alone in her house while the main authority figures are away, and you have just been invited to come to her room. Coming from any other girl, the implications of such an invite would be all-too-clear. But there's no way this particular girl could mean that, right? Right? Right.

“I-it's okay if you don't want to.”
You're broken out of your internal rambling to see the beginnings of 'that' face, again. If you didn't know any better, you would swear she could turn it on and off like a light.

“Oh, uh, no! I mean, yes! I mean...gah! I mean, I'd be happy to come to your room!”
Oh, you are so, so whipped.

Her expression brightens instantly at your words.
“Great! I'm happy! Let's go get some snacks to take down, first, okay?”
“Sure, that sounds good.”

Walking hand-in-hand, the two of you make your way through the halls to the kitchen doors, step inside, and stop dead in your tracks at the sight before you.
A slightly familiar-looking green-haired girl stands next to a counter, looking straight at the two of you. However, unlike the school uniform you normally see her in, she appears to be wearing a dark suit and tie, and a strange hat adorned with some gold ornaments and some red and white ribbons.

After what seems like an eternity of silence, she clears her throat, and addresses you.
“Welcome. How about you have a seat, over here?”
The girl gestures to a nearby metal chair.

Suddenly overcome with the feeling you're being watched from all angles, you swallow and nervously move to the chair the girl just indicated, but stop when she raises her hand.
“No, no, not you, young man. I was addressing her.”

Wait, what?
“Wait, what?”

Ignoring me, the girl now looks squarely at my companion.
“You heard me, miss. Please have a seat, there are some things we need to discuss.”

Tch... it figures.”
Not quite sure you heard what you thought you just heard, you turn to your friend, and are shocked to see her demeanor has changed completely from the girl you know. Heading over to the chair, she sits down and immediately pulls out a lighter and a silver...wait, is that a cigarette case?

Sure enough, she removes a long, white stick from the case, snaps the case shut, and tucks it back into wherever she pulled it from before

“What figures?” the green-haired girl asks her as she lights up.
Taking a long drag, she holds it in for a moment before exhaling the smoke right in the girl's direction.
“It figures that someone else would have to show up and try to get in my way.”
“And what is it you think I'm getting in the way of?”

Crossing her legs and taking another drag off her cigarette, she fixes the girl with a glare that would have made just about anyone run for cover..
“You know damn well what, ya cock-blocking twat.”
“That sort of language is uncalled-for.”
“The fuck it is! Like I don't know what this is about! I bet you wanted to ask me 'what was I gonna do' or some shit like that! Well, you know god-damn-fucking-well the fuck I was gonna do!”
“And that would be?”

She makes a face as if she had been asked the stupidest thing in the world.
“To get me some goddamn cock! Fuck!”

As this exchange is going on, you can do nothing but stand there in stunned silence, and watch as the image you had built up of your friend collapses like a building undergoing demolition.

“Not that I'd expect a frigid bitch like you to understand.” she continues glaring at the girl in the suit.
“And you don't see any problem with what you were going to do? You are almost, what, 500? Do you know how old he is?”
“The fuck does that matter? I've seen what he's packing already! 'If there's grass on the field, then play ball” and that shit!” she retorts, jabbing the cigarette in the girl's direction for emphasis.

It feels wrong to hear that from her, of all people, for various reasons, but you think better of saying anything about it and keep on quietly pretending to be invisible.
Of course, it seems you aren't the only one to pick up on that.

“I do not believe you have much room to talk in that regard.” the girl says with a smirk.
“Hey. Hey. Fuck you. Just because I look like this doesn't mean I don't get the urge to fuck, ya know? You know what it's like being locked up for fuckin' centuries, with your only source of relief being your hand, a broken bedpost, or a rod that can burn the world down? To finally get out, only to discover your only prospects are creepy old men or dumbasses who want you to call them “onii-chan~” or some shit? Fucking hell!”

Apparently finished with her cigarette, she flicks away the butt, and then pulls out what appears to be a small, silver flask. Unscrewing the lid, she brings it to her mouth, tips her head back, and continues to do so until she seemingly empties it completely. As she finishes, she exhales in a satisfied manner, and you catch a waft of whatever it was. Definitely alcoholic, and strong.

“So, how the fuck is this goin' down, then? Ya gonna arrest me or some shit? In my own home? Eh?”
“Of course not. However, we have contacted your sister and informed her of what has transpired here. She will most likely return here within the hour.”
Merde! C’est des conneries!

Rising from her seat, she continues muttering what are probably rather impolite words in French as she heads out of the kitchen and presumably back to her room, likely wanting to be behind the many locks and reinforced metal before her sister came home.

“And don't forget about the homework for tomorrow!” the girl calls out to her
”va te faire foutre!” comes the reply through the now-closed door.

Still standing in complete and utter shock at everything you had just seen and heard, the girl finally turns her attention to you, stepping over and placing a hand on your shoulder.

“How are you doing? Are you alright? She did not touch you inappropriately anywhere, did she?
“...oh...wha? N-no! No! Nothing like that! I'm fine!”
“Because I have a doll you could use to point out anywh-”
“No! Really. I'm fine.”

“Well, good. I am glad. A young man like you needs to be careful here, this land is teeming with all sorts of predators.
“Er, uh, r-right.”

Giving a reassuring smile, she pats you on the shoulder, and makes her way to the door.
“Uh, thanks? I guess. Er, Miss Yamaxa-”
The girl suddenly puts her hand up to interrupt you.
“Think nothing of it, young man. I am merely performing my duty. As for my title, when I am like this I am acting as The Judge of Paradise. Rather than 'Shikieiki Yamaxanadu'...” she says while standing in the doorway, turning towards you while slipping on a rather stylish-looking pair of sunglasses.
“...perhaps it would be more appropriate to call me 'Shikieiki Hansenxanadu'.”

What.
Before anything more can be said, the girl is gone, and you are left standing alone in the kitchen
As you are left to reflect on the implications of all that had just transpired, and what you may very well have been deprived of, you feel a warm wetness running down your face.

Oh, look. It's raining.
Yes, it is most certainly rain.
>> No. 3827
>>3826
Oh shit, this is awesome!
>> No. 3831
>>3826
That jealous bitch, ruining Flan's fun like that.
>> No. 3832
>>3826

Nice.
>> No. 3834
>As you are left to reflect on the implications of all that had just transpired, and what you may very well have been deprived of, you feel a warm wetness running down your face.

Oh, allegory. ;_;
>> No. 3836
File 126916615541.png - (62.18KB , 400x400 , Awesome (smaller).png ) [iqdb]
3836
>As you are left to reflect on the implications of all that had just transpired, and what you may very well have been deprived of, you feel a warm wetness running down your face.
Hmm, let's see... Either Sakuya's bath sprung a leak upstairs, the fairies are pissing on the MC for lulz, or he's gone and banged his head into the wall and is now sporting a bleeding forehead gash.

Well? Did I guess right?
>> No. 3838
>>3836
All wrong.
The correct answer is "Invisible Koakuma Bukkake".
>> No. 3839
File 126918055678.jpg - (14.86KB , 274x297 , 1268927617201.jpg ) [iqdb]
3839
Having just read through this thread, I feel both awesome and somehow violated.
But mostly awesome.

Picture is relevant to a surprising number of posts.
>> No. 3847
File 12692945851.png - (1.11MB , 1000x700 , actualproductandcolorsmyvary.png ) [iqdb]
3847
Eugh. Why am I doing this again?
As if in response, my stomach lets out a mournful growl.

Oh. Yeah. Food.
Of all the things you would think I wouldn't require, and yet here I am. It almost makes me want to laugh, it's so ridiculous.

“Immortality” my ass.

Let me tell ya something. If everyone who ever sought out this so-called “gift” were clued in on all the fine print, they'd have to be a goddamn moron to still want it.
Or just insane.

Sure, not dying from what would otherwise spell a slow and excruciatingly painful death for a normal human sounds nice, until you're actually experiencing it and realize the only thing that's different is the lack of the “death” part. Being beaten, burnt, stabbed, crushed, drowned, impaled, and dismembered all suck bad enough as it is, and they don't get any better when you take away the relief that dying brings to the situation.

The only good thing I can say about it is that at least it makes putting up with the smaller stuff a bit easier. Freezing and starving in the dead of winter doesn't seem so bad once you've had the pleasure of being disemboweled, skewered through every part of your body with spears, and then set on fire.
Even the sensation of picked away at by the crows afterward feels more like being tickled, by comparison. Well, until one of them goes for the eyes, at least. Littler fucker.

Which brings me back to my current situation, and makes me realize even more at how utterly ridiculous it truly is. After all the shit I've gone through, here I am scrounging around the forest for something to eat because of a little growling and aching and cramping. I've gone soft.

Though, that's not an entirely bad thing, I guess.

Fortunately, living out in the wilderness like this has helped me tune my senses and keep them sharp, so food isn't too hard for me to find if I ever do go looking for it. I just don't see any reason to bother with the effort most of the time.

Sure enough, I soon succeed in finding some mushrooms here and there, and from previous experience I know they're not poisonous. However, before I have the chance to enjoy my find, my senses alert me to another, more pressing matter.

I am not alone.

With all the rabbits roaming around these parts, sometimes even I have trouble telling when they're intentionally tracking me, or simply passing by on some other business. Not that it really matters, since pretty much everything they do is connected to her in some way or another. About the only difference it makes to me is in how on-guard I have to be for any upcoming “surprises” before the old song and dance starts up again.

Judging by the sound, they're clearly not making any attempt to remain hidden, so rather then feigning ignorance to their presence I turn to confront them directly, coming face-to-face with two of her rabbits. To be more specific, those two rabbits; the runt and the weird one.

Any time there was some dirty work to be done for ”Her Majesty”, those two are usually the ones to do it. The runt, despite her size, was clearly the dominant one of the duo, and definitely the most dangerous. I've still yet to pay her back for that lovely little trap she had set for me the last time. I don't even know where the fuck she managed to find sharks in Gensokyo, let alone ones with those fucking beam-shooting things attached to their heads.
The weird one, on the other hand, was not nearly as much of a threat. She was certainly more capable in direct combat, but not much else. I'd almost feel sorry for her if she wasn't working for that bitch.

Normally in this situation, I'd be sporting at give them the first shot, but seeing as I'm fucking hungry they're interrupting my attempt at a meal, I am in NO MOOD for this shit right now.
Bracing myself, I can already feel the warm tingling that comes from what I'm about to do. The warm sensation spreads throughout my body, and before they even have a chance to realize what's about to happen, I strike with a fierce cry!

“Moko moko mokomokomoko moko moko moko moko mokomokokomoko moko moko moko!”

Basking with the vengeful fires of my rage, the two can't help but stand in shock and awe at my overwhelming fluffiness. Well, the bigger one, anyway. As she releases a cluster of shit pellets in surprise, the smaller one simply begins making sniffling sounds, and then begins hopping around in circles.

Fucking hell, is she making fun of me?!

“MOKO! Mokomoko momokoko! Mokomomokoko moko-ko! MOKOKO!!!”

She simply sniffles at me again, turns around, and lets out a spray of urine.
That fucking bitch! That fucking fuck bitch!
I set my fluff-level to the highest it's ever been, and let loose with a volley that would make lesser beings quake away in fear!

“MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKO MOKOOOOOO~!!!”

As I continue my tirade, she seemingly loses interest in my and begins nibbling away at some nearby clover, while her companion remains in the same motionless state she had been in for a while now. Whatever abilities she might otherwise have, as far as I can see now they can be summed up as “Jack” and “Shit”. And Jack left town.

Oh, wait, I take that back. It seems our conflict has attracted the attention of some other rabbits, who had begun to watch our battle. While most were almost certainly stunned by my fluffitude, one (possibly male) rabbit hopped over to where the large, weird one was and began sniffling at her.
Eliciting no response from the odd-bunny, it then promptly proceeded to mount her started humping away. (Yeah, definitely a male).

Eventually, either from boredom or their overpowering terror, all of the rabbits hopped away, most likely back to the mega-bitch they serve. All, that is, but the oddball, who had long since been abandoned by the bunny-rapist after he finished his business and enjoyed a post-coitus smoke. If I didn't know any better, I would swear the quiet snuffling noises she was making was actually her crying.

Like I gave a shit. Either way, I bristled with pride at the fact that, regardless of the reason, today I stood victorious! It would be a while before they thought to fuck with me again.

My fluffiness is maximum.
>> No. 3849
That was funny.
>> No. 3851
>>3847

what

what is this I don't even

...Reisen? ;_;
>> No. 3853
Still trying to figure out if Hannibal Lecter has anything to do with anything. Other than, you know, eating Mokou alive and all that.

This is bad and you should feel bad. But you don't. Carry on.
>> No. 3854
File 12693201183.jpg - (258.84KB , 600x3652 , does it count hakutaku to sleep.jpg ) [iqdb]
3854
For those of you who don't get it.
>> No. 3855
>>3851
Poor Reisen indeed... a victim of fanon rape even here.

But it's a funny take on Sheep-Mokou.
>> No. 3858
>>3854

Oh, now I get it.
>> No. 3860
Your stories are good and you should feel good.
>> No. 3868
>>3853

Lambs. Silent.
>> No. 3937
File 127003511661.jpg - (158.34KB , 999x769 , 641cfdc2869cfd086210231dee1d5686.jpg ) [iqdb]
3937
this is the best thread
>> No. 3976
File 127019185835.jpg - (232.21KB , 1024x815 , lost days.jpg ) [iqdb]
3976
-drip-
-drip-
-drip-

“...ugh...gah...ow...”

Cold cold hard cold hard cold hurt hurt hurt pain ow ow ow ow ow ow ow why does it why does it why does it why why why why why why why why why why WHY WHY WHY WHY WHYWHYWHYWHYWHYWHYWHYWH- ….oh.

I'm awake.

Good morning pain.
Good morning floor.

Now I remember why I am cold and hurting and ow ow ouch I don't like waking up.
The bed that is my floor and the floor that is my bed is not a very nice bed at all.

I had a bed for a bed once. I think I liked it better than the floor. I think.
But I don't have it anymore.

Bad girls don't get beds and so have to sleep on the floor.

Girls who break things are bad.

It is bad to break things.

Breaking things is bad.

That's why I don't have one anymore.

I get up and off and up and up off the cold hard floor, but still I hurt and ache and pain and ARGH...ha...ow...

It still hurts, but not from the front not from the floor. While that was more hard-and-achey, this is more sharp-and-stabby, like metal rods had been lodged into my back.

Which they were.
But they're not metal rods anymore, no no no no, they are my wings.

I think I had real ones once, but not anymore.

Bad girls don't get to have wings.
Bad girls don't get to fly.
Bad girls don't get to have anything.
Bad girls don't deserve anything.

I don't deserve anything.

Not bed nor room nor board nor house nor home nor wings nor things nor dreams nor life so why am I still alive why why why die die die go ahead and die you worthless useless horrid wicked evil monster why were you even born?!

...why?

Why am I here?

I understand why.
Because I don't understand.

That is why I am here.


That is why....


...but I still don't understand.


How long have I been down here?
I don't know. I don't care.
All that matters is why I am down here.

It is not stone and steel that keeps me in this place, but me, myself, and I alone.
Because I know.

I know this is where I belong.
This is where I deserve to be.

I can remember...what it was like...before.
Before here, before there, before all of this.

I think I was happy then. I think we were all happy then.
I think.

But I was bad. I was wicked. I was evil.
Because of me, they hurt.
Because of me, they die.

All of it ALL OF IT because of me.

If you cannot have things without breaking them, you should not have things to begin with.
If you cannot have people without hurting them, you should not have people either.
And that is why I...


Yes, yes, I understand that much, at least.
All too well. All too well.

What better place for someone who can only hurt and harm, than a place with no one to hurt or harm?
Yes, it really was best to be down here, after all, wasn't it?

Sister understood. I can see that now.

And so that is why I am down here now.
Maybe I can understand, too.

We never talked. Not really.
I suppose we each tried in our own ways, but it never really went anywhere.

Now she doesn't talk to me at all.
Not anymore.

So, this is really all I can do. To understand.
And then, maybe, one day, she might finally look at me like she used to. Before.
Maybe...maybe then we could talk.

I know it's stupid. It's impossible.
Even if it wasn't, there is no way it would happen.
I don't deserve it.

But, still...I want to try.
I want to see her again.
And, even if I am the only one to do it, I want to talk to her.

I'm...I'm thinking better today. Clearer.
Clear and bright even though it's so dark dark dark dark NO!
Stop it stop it stop it!

STOP.

Clear. Yes.
I don't have many moments like this, not that I can remember. Not for a long time.
Not that I usually mind.
It's harder to understand like that, but it's easier to understand.

But do I?
Do I really?

I think so.

I think...no...I know.
I know.


I hate this place.

I hate these walls and this floor and the mold and cold and the rats that don't even visit me anymore.
I HATE IT ALL

But more than that. More than any of that.
I hate being like this...

...Idon't want to be alone.
I don't want to be alone!

I want things to be like they were!
I want everyone to be happy like they were!

I want...I want it all to be like I remember...

I remember...

I remember...!

Suddenly, and for the first time in ages, I feel like I am truly awake. Aware.
Painfully aware.
Aware of the fact that such a thing is no longer possible. Those days...those days are long gone, never to return.
And once again, I only have myself to blame.

There is one thing, though. Such small, simple thing, that I feel like I can still do.
No. That I must do. While I am still fully aware, while I am still fully and truly myself, I need to do this. Before my mind and body fall back into this state I so rightly deserve.

I don't know if it will do any good.
For all I know, it might just be meaningless.
But I still have to try.
I have to!



The climb up isn't easy.
I'm weak. It's been so long since I've had anything to eat.
After all, bad girls must go without their supper.
The rubble isn't making it any easier, though.


I can't quite recall the details of how it started, but the results are still quite clear in the countless scars these halls bear. The servants that managed to survive didn't remain to to clean up and rebuild, and the two who did could not manage it all themselves. Capable as they were, they had far more important duties to carry out as the smoke cleared and the dust settled.
It had gone too far. I had gone too far.

Even as I was back then, I knew that much.
I had been bad. So very, very bad.

And bad girls need to be punished.

Even as one carried her away, the other stayed with me to carry out the duty that had been given to her.

...what was her name?
Heh...how pathetic, I can't even remember that. Hardly even her face, her voice...just the feeling of her.
Cold, efficient, and reliable, like a finely-tuned watch. Yet, there was warmth in there, too. Deep inside.
But not that night.

She didn't want to do it. I could tell. But she did it, as she had been commanded to. When the other returned, she took over, and I could tell she wanted to do it even less. Yet she did.
They both carried out their orders as best they could, and I took what they gave me without complaint or resistance.

Pain, after all, was an effective means of punishment, even for one like me.
And, for one like me, those two were the only ones I had who could properly give it to me.

And so they did. They punched and slapped and pulled my hair and poked and stabbed and cut and tore and broke and beat and oh I still ache just thinking about it.
And it wasn't enough. None of it was.
I deserved so much more than what they could do to me, and so down down down I went and there I stayed, like a good bad girl.

They would come and visit every once and a while, even though I told them not to. Sometimes one, sometimes the other, but for a while both would come at the same time. They would try to comfort me, tell me it wasn't my fault, but I knew better. I'd ask them how Sister was, and they would stop.
As time went on, they kept coming down, kept trying to “help” me, but I think they began to realize it was doing no good. While one kept coming with some frequency, the other gradually came down less and less often, until one day she stopped coming altogether. The other stopped shortly after that.


“...ah.”

Somehow, the damage was less severe around this area, and without having to continually move up and over and under and around all the wood and stone and stuff that littered the halls, I find myself at my destination much faster than I expected.

The doors to her room. Even from just this, the differences between how we had lived in the same house was horribly obvious. How blind were we for neither of us to question it?
...no, perhaps it's precisely because we knew that we did not question it. Could that even be what led to all of this?

As if it even matters anymore.
Once broken, there is no un-breaking it. Even if you try to repair it, it will never be like it was before.

Why did it have to take me so long to learn that?
Why is it that I could never learn these things before it was too late to make a difference?

I hesitate to touch the doors.
I'm shaking.
Why am I shaking?
I'm...afraid?
Even though this is my home, I am afraid of this place, like I'm trying to go someplace I shouldn't be.
Perhaps I shouldn't. I certainly have no right to be in this place. I don't deserve to be.

My “wings” are hurting me a lot more than they usually do, as if agreeing with me.

I shouldn't be here.
She should be, but I should not.
She deserves it, but I do not.

But...

But!

I have to do this.
I need to do this.
I need to tell her...I...

I...


I push the doors open.

A step, a step, a close, a click, and suddenly I am inside.

It's quiet.
Almost by reflex, I find myself tip-toeing as I move across the room.

It's absurd, I realize, doing such a thing. Even if footsteps make a sound, it means nothing if there is no one else around to hear them.
Yet, still, I do it. It feels as if doing anything to disturb the peace of this place would be horribly wrong.

And so I quietly move over to the side of the bed, and there I finally see her.
Carefully tucked beneath the covers, from a distance one could mistake her for being asleep.
But she's not. Not anymore.

I can barely even recognize her face, between what the passage of time has done to her and my memory.
I think I'm crying, but I can't tell if it's from the pain on my back, or the pain in my chest.

Is...is any of this going to matter?
However much I may wish it, I can't take back what I did.
No matter what I say, she won't answer me.

So then why?
Why is it that I feel like I have to do this?
...why did I feel I had to do any of this?
Why did I...was this...

...of course it was, wasn't it?
I'd laugh if I wasn't crying so hard.
It really is kinda funny...isn't it?

Yes, it's been that, all along, hasn't it? It had to be.
After all, it was all I could do, and all that I deserved.
I really was such a stupid, useless sister after all, wasn't it?
Even when I didn't realize it, I knew. If only I had been able to see it.
That's what this was all for, wasn't it?

It didn't have to be this way.
It never did.
I should have known better, and yet...

How could I have been such an idiot?
Why the hell did it take all of this for me to finally get it?


Though I can hardly even recognize her face anymore, her hair seems just the same as it did that day. It really was pretty, wasn't it?
Looking down upon her with tears still streaming down my face, I gently stroke her blonde locks as I finally begin to say what I should have said so very long ago...

”I'm sorry, Flan....”




...I understand...
>> No. 3977
>>3976
>”I'm sorry, Flan....”
I... I... wat.

...mind broken.
>> No. 3978
>>3976

...I think the sudden speed of that twist just snapped my neck. Ow.
>> No. 3980
I wasn't terribly depressed by it, though it was very, very interesting and inspirational in of itself.

The twist at the end was truly awe-inspiring.
>> No. 3983
File 127021337975.jpg - (15.70KB , 300x390 , spoilers it was a twist.jpg ) [iqdb]
3983
What a tweest!
>> No. 4111
File 12708103424.png - (663.55KB , 1200x600 , radio killed the video star.png ) [iqdb]
4111
“...that concludes this week's episode of Yuugi's Underground Countdown, where the hits keep dropping even while her sake doesn't! Now, stay tuned as our very own expert in matters of the heart takes your questions on the air, live! It's “Help Me, SATORINNNNNN!!”, but first your local news and weather! Good afternoon, I am Yamame Kurodani!”

“Panic broke out among the kappa working around the Hell of Blazing Fires this morning when the primary control unit briefly failed. Following an investigation, the cause for the failure was determined to be due to the control unit becoming distracted when she thought she saw something shiny. She has since apologized in a public statement, where she promised to 'never, ever, ever do it ever again,' followed by crying over being banned from eating eggs for the next two weeks.”

“Now, here's Parsee Mizuhashi with our “Green Eye in the Sky” traffic report! Take it away, Parsee!”

“Thanks, Yamame, you diseased whore! Traffic on the bridge is, as usual, completely non-existent. I don't even know why we even need the stupid thing anymore, since everyone flies over it anyway.
Why the hell do I even need to guard it? It's not like anyone comes down here that I can actually stop! And if it's not the ones coming from above, now it's the ones from below! I swear, if I see that fucking cat one more time-”

“Thanks, Parsee! As always you are a shining beam of sunlight that makes us all feel a little bit better about ourselves, if only because our lives can't possibly suck as much as yours!”

“FUCK YOU!”

“And speaking of sunlight, let's check in with Kisume for a report on the weather top-side! What's the weather like up there, Kisume?”

“I'm a little, ah, kinda busy right now! That rain I told you about hasn't really let up and I'm kinda getting flo-GACKTH GURGLE blub blub blub....”

“...ah, um, well! Thanks, Kisume! Looks like we're going to be in for a few more inches of water than we expected, so be sure to keep a bucket handy should your home start flooding! Unless your home is a bucket, in which case you're probably kinda screwed.”

“Now, sit back, relax, and open your heart and mind for the Underground's hottest advice show! It's “Help Me, SATORINNNNNN!!”! Here, only on Gensokyo's Voice of the Underground Radio!”



“Hello, and welcome to another installment of “Help Me, Satorin,” where the hearts and minds of our audience are laid bare whether they wish for it or not in their search for guidance, but mostly for the entertainment of others who find comfort in hearing the troubles of people far worse-off than they. I am Satori Komeiji, and with me today until she gets bored and wanders off again is my sister, Koishi. Say hello to the audience, sister.”

“Hiya! I'm not wearing any panties!”

“...moving along, then. Our phone lines are now open and ready to take your calls. If your heart is troubled, then simply call us at-”
“1-800-843-4263!”
“...ah, er, thank you, sister.. Now then, let us-...uh, what is so funny?”
“Oh, nothing~!”

“Anyway, I believe we have a caller already. Hello, you are on the air with Satori and Koishi. What are these girl problems you seem to be having?”
“Er, hi, I wa-...wait, how did you know I was calling abo-”
“You do know what a satori can do, do you not?”
“Wait, you mean you just read my mi-”
“No. A tech in the booth just told me what you told them before connecting us. Now, you were about to say...?”
“Oh...oh! Uh, yeah. Well, I've been having some trouble with...well...the ladies. A couple ladies, actually. See, I think one might have a thing for me, but I think I might have a thing for another, but I also kinda like the first girl, and every time I feel like I have to choose between them it's like a raging storm in my head! I don't know what to do!”
“Hm, yes, Relationships are always complicated when many hearts are involved, especially ones as young as yours. These girls, have you known them for long?”
“Well, yes and no. I've only known either of them for a couple weeks, but it feels like I've known them for much lon-”
“Patience, young one. Patience. While the desire for haste is understandable, you stand to gain nothing by attempting to rush such things. Allow things to progress as they will, and when the time comes your heart will know what to do.”
“Listen to sis, man, she knows from experience!”
Koishi! Ah! Er, I mean, I have no idea what you are talking about, sister.”
“Of course you don't~!”
“I don't!”
“Riiiiiiight~! Hey, bud! Have you shown them your ding-a-ling?”
“Koishi!”
“...well...uh...kinda, yeah.”
“Awesome! Hey, sis, this guy might be right up your alley!”
“T-that's quite enough! Next caller!”

“Hello? Am I on? Like, right now?”
“Yes, caller, you are live with Satori and Koishi.”
“Oh wow! Hi Satorin! Love your show! I'm a long-time listener, first-time caller! Well, not really, I just started listening last week, but I always wanted to say that!”
“Just 'Satori' is fine, and thank you. Now, what seems to be troubling you?”
“Oh, right, right, right! Well, Satorin, it all started a while ago when I met this girl We kinda had a rocky start, but after a while we just seemed to become something of a pair. It wasn't a really heavy thing, but people seemed to think we went well together, and everything was fine, right?”
“But now things are not quite so fine...?”
“Exactly! You're really good at this, Satorin!”
“Just Satori, please. And continue, if you would?”
“Oh yes, yes, of course! Well, like I was saying everything seemed like it was fine between us, but somewhere along the way everything just seemed to go wrong. I mean, we always had our little tiffs and stuff, but lately it just started to get nastier and nastier, and now it seems like all we ever do is hurt each other!”
“How unfortunate.”
“I know! I don't know what it is, but lately whenever we're together it seems like we're different people! Well, not different different, but you know?”
“...I...guess?”
“And as if that wasn't enough, somehow everyone's now treating me like I'm the bad guy in all of this! I mean, can you believe that? Like, I know I'm no saint,.even though that's sorta close to what I am, but I'm definitely no monster! I try to be good, and do the right thing, I do! But then this whole mess happens, and now it's like who I was the day before doesn't matter, and this is how they're going to look at me from now on! Like, how is that fair?!”

“Well, caller, I can certainly appreciate some of your difficulties. The perceptions others hold of you can be a troublesome thing to have to live with. It is never an easy thing to be hated, however justified is may or may not be...never easy at all...never...never...”
“What sis is tryin' to say is cheer up! Life's too short to spend worrying about what others think about you in the here and now! Just flash them funbags, shower them with kindness and poon-tang, and they'll forget all about any past misdeeds! Either that, or you can just resign yourself to the life of a crazy spinster who lives alone in a house full of cats! You can still get laid like that, too! Just ask Ori-”
“...KOISHI!”
“Welcome back, sis!”
“Did you mean to-? Ah, nevermind. My apologies, caller. I suppose what I mean to say is that you are not alone in how you feel. It is all too easy for others to lose sight of the fact that there are many sides to an individual, and while not all of them are always flattering or pleasant, it is seldom the case that such sides are all there is to that person. Though it may not happen as quickly as you might wish it to, I am sure that a time will come when others will once again view the other, more pleasant sides of who you are.”

“Now, it is almost time for a commercial break, but before that I have a letter I would like to share. It comes to us from a Miss 'Rosebud Was a Sled', who writes: 'Dear SnK, I am, like, so ttly in this, like, downward spiral and idk wat 2 do! Ive been, like, trying 2 make a name 4 myself, but all ppl do is call me a wannabe! Im just tryin 2 be the best @ wat I do, but ppl wont even try to giv me a chance! Like, wtf!!!! wat can I do 2 make them c wat I can do? I jus wan 2 have a chance 2 shine!'”

“...about now I would be offering some form of advice, but unfortunately I have no idea what half of this letter is even trying to say. Would you care to field this one, sister?”
“Whore yourself!”
“And that is about as much of a response as could be expected. We will now have a brief break for commercials and station identification, and...sister? Koishi? What are you doing in the booth? Koishi! Don't press that bu-”


-WE ARE EXPERIENCING TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES-
-PLEASE STAND BY-
>> No. 4113
Jin and Alice?
No idea who the third one is, though.
>> No. 4114
Two protagonists... and a writefag?

>1-800-843-4263
Fuck. You.
>> No. 4115
>>4111
Jin, Shirou, and "Miss Spoiler" Hatate.
>> No. 4116
Who's Jin again? There's too many protagonists to keep track of.
>> No. 4118
>>4116
Gensokyo High protagonist.

Also, that second caller is probably Aya, talking about Momiji.
>> No. 4120
>1-800-843-4263
>Poaching Hotlines

Am I missing something here?
>> No. 4121
>>4118
>>4113
>Like, I know I'm no saint,.even though that's sorta close to what I am, but I'm definitely no monster!

Aya and Alice don't fit either the 'being close to a saint' or 'not a monster' parts.
>> No. 4122
Hilarious, as usual!

>>4121

Ancient Gensokyo's protagonist. He's a monk.
>> No. 4123
>>4120
http://phonespell.org/
>> No. 4128
File 127086297633.jpg - (27.70KB , 512x382 , 1269497770883.jpg ) [iqdb]
4128
Fantastic!
>> No. 4129
>>4123

First one on the top left is 1800-the-game

Nothing else needs explaining.
>> No. 4131
>>4122
doubt it, there's two-three girls that are very dear to him, not just one.
>> No. 4133
My Wild Ass Guess about the second caller? Sanae. Although I can't think of any time that she and Kogasa got along. The last part really fits when you think about how Anon is letting Fell's version affect how he treats her in other stories.
>> No. 4134
File 127087851529.jpg - (297.26KB , 1000x1000 , there will be blood.jpg ) [iqdb]
4134
>>4133
>>Although I can't think of any time that she and Kogasa got along

I dunno, I've seen more than enough images of them where the two seem to be getting along rather well.
>> No. 4137
Hey, author person.

You're going to do another thread when this one hits autosage, right?

You'd fucking better.
>> No. 4138
>>4133
>>4134
... Actually, that fits pretty damn well. Haha, awesome.
>> No. 4139
Author - did you have identities for the callers in mind when you wrote this, or were you trying to highlight difficulties that are part of the common experience in every story?
>> No. 4142
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4142
>>You're going to do another thread when this one hits autosage, right?

I've been wondering about that, actually.
Keeping in mind that it's taken more than half a year for this thread to get to this point, and when I first made it I had no intention of continuing for even fraction of that time, what do I do if and when this thread hits auto-sage in a few more months?

Start a new thread here? Somewhere else? And do I keep on doing things as I have been, or try to do something different?

I'm not sure yet, and I don't like making promises unless I'm absolutely certain I can and will deliver on them, so for now I guess all I can say is we'll ford that river when we get to it.
...and kill half of the party and most of our oxen in the process.

>>4139
>>did you have identities for the callers in mind when you wrote this, or were you trying to highlight difficulties that are part of the common experience in every story?

Yes.


That is to say, a bit of both.
Though I did indeed have specific characters in mind for the callers, their problems are not exclusive to them and them alone, I think.
>> No. 4143
>>4142

"Don't Read This 2" would work.

Also, have I mentioned you write a heavenly Koishi? Well, you do.
>> No. 4155
>>4143
Better yet:

"Don't Read This, Either" or something kind of like that.

Also I realized I keep thinking there's an exclamation mark at the end of the title, even though there isn't, simply because Akyu looks so emphatic, and I imagine her shouting that: "Don't read this!"

Totally off the subject:
Do you write an actual story elsewhere on THP in addition to this, author-person? Just a yes or a no; not going to pry if you do. I've got a bet going.
>> No. 4158
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4158
>>Do you write an actual story elsewhere on THP in addition to this, author-person?

As a matter of fact, nope.

To be more specific, thus far I have written absolutely no stories outside of this thread on this or any other site.
>> No. 4160
>>4158
You may not write anything else but you are a pretty awesome reader. Attentive and witty, so I've noticed. Just putting that out there.
>> No. 4167
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4167
“...ahem, welcome back to the program. Once again, I am your host, Satori Komeiji, and with me once again is my sister, Koishi. Much to my surprise.”
“And still free-balling!”
“I am fairly certain that is not the appropriate term in your case, sister.”
“Flapping in the breeze?”
“Still inappropriate, sister.”
“Going commando?”
“.....”
Andar a lo gringo!"
“Please stop. We've gone off-track enough as it is as a result of your actions in the booth.”
“That nice fella' got such a hug!”
“Yes, yes, and now we have very little time left to-...why are you looking at me like that?”
“Sis...are you feeling left out?”
“Wha-? No! I just feel we should get ba-ACK!”
“Who wants cuddles? You wants cuddles!
“Ah, no, Koishi! Get off my la-...ah, fine. Fine. Let's just do this. Hello caller, you're on the air with Satori and Koishi, what seems to be troubling you?”
“You smell like strawberries~.”

“Ah, hello Miss Komeiji, I greatly enjoy your program.”
“Why thank you, caller, we both apprecia-ah, not so tight, Koishi! You have some relationship problems you wished to ask about, caller?
“Well, yes. Unfortunately, I'm afraid it would be more accurate to say I have a lack of relationship problems. It seems like no matter what I do, I just cannot get into any sort of lasting, meaningful relationship. I simply do not understand what I am doing wrong. I have a good, stable career, and by all accounts it seems like I'm generally well-liked, yet I have an easier time holding the attention of an entire room of children than I do of a single man. I know I am not perfect, that I have more than my share of baggage, but still...it just all seems so unfair.”
“Indeed, life can be quite cruel.”
“Yes...I know that quite well. For the longest time, I wondered if there was something wrong with me, if I was in some way to blame for why things turn out like this. I thought I was completely alone. But then, I met some others with experiences much like mine, and while it was disheartening to discover just how common my circumstances are, I felt strangely relieved that at least I wasn't the only one going through this. Even so, it still hurts...it hurts so much. I suppose the reason for my call today is to ask, is there any hope for us? Is there some way we can break out of this role in which we are continually cast, or must we simply resign ourselves to never claiming any sort of happy ending to call our own? Thank you for your time, and I will take my response off the air.”

“Well, thank you, caller. I regret to say, there is really no simple answer or 'quick fix' to your problems. The heart truly is a fickle thing, causing some to become hooked upon the first one it sets itself upon, while others seemingly wavering between anything and everything it can. That is not to say there is no hope for you or anyone else, however. There are ways one can increase their chances for-”
“Give 'em the goodies early and often!”
“Koishi! That is hardly-....why are smiling at me like that?”
“I dunno~!”
“Ahem, right. As I was saying, caller, there are ways you may increase your chances, such as taking the initiative, and offering some incentive to....what?”
“Hmmm~ hmmmmmmm~”
“...incentive to get to know you better.. Something to catch their interest, in other words. The most important thing, however, is to not lose hope. As easy as it may be to become discouraged, I can assure you that such feelings come just as easily for the ones on the other side, as well. The heart is not only fickle, but fragile, and once broken is difficult to completely mend. Those who know that feeling will often shy away from even the slightest chance of it happening again, regardless of how likely to actually occur.”
“In other words, cowgirl, sometimes you gotta hike up your skirt and find your balls, because they sure as hell won't! Maybe even whip-em a bit!”
“I think that might be going just a little too far, sister. Also, if you've had quite enough, would you please get off of my lap?”
“But I'm not in your lap, sis!”
“Huh? When did you...? Oh, nevermind. Let us try to get to one more caller before it's time to wrap up, shall we? Hello, caller, you are on the air with Satori and Koishi, how is your heart troubling you today?”

Ahhh...haaa...haaa...
“Er...hello? Caller?”
“...haaaaa...haaaaa....haaaaaaaa...”
“Wait, this couldn't possibly be...”
“Did you say something about...haa...haa...whips?
“Oh. It's you. Again. ...I was under the impression that someone was supposed to be screening our calls.”
“Haaaa.....haaaaa......Ha! As if! You lowly cave-dwellers are a thousand years too early to be screening my calls! You should be grateful to even have one such as me gracing your airwaves!”
“Right. Well then, I think this is all the time we have for toda-”
“Oh siiiiiiiiis~!”
“Hm? What is is, sister?”
“I liiiiiiiiiied~!. I am in your lap!”
“I was wondering why my legs were still aslee-GAH!”
“Oh funny-lady? Go ahead with what you want to say!”

“Huh? Oh, yes! Ha! As if I need permission from the likes of you! You will never get rid of one such as I with such weak methods as that! If you want me to stop, you'll have to make me! Make me! Ha ha ha ha ha!”
“And to think there are those who consider our kind to be unpleasant. Is there a reason you wanted this to go on, sister?”
“Maybe~! Hey, lady, did you mean what you just said?”
“Eeeeeh? Are you deaf? Of course I mean it! If you want me to stop, you have to make me! As if you could!”
“I see, I see! And is that what you really want? What you really, really want~?”
“Has living in a cave made you unable to understand anything without an echo? Eh? I just told yo-”
“I don't think you do~.”
“Wha- just how dare you presume to know what I-”
“Oh, I know, alright. I know, I know, I know, and you dooooooooon't~!”
“Ha! Listen to this little twe-”
”I know~..
“...erk!”
“You make a big deal out of making trouble, provoking others into having to deal with you, but deep down that's not what you're really after. You act as if you want to do as you wish, but what you really wish for is control. From a young age you probably had little in the way of boundaries, left free to do just about anything and everything you could wish, yet that left a very deep gap in your heart. Beneath it all, you yearned for the limits and guidance that you felt your parents should have provided for you, but never gave. And so, you act out. You irritate. You antagonize. And all in the hopes that someone will finally pay attention to you and discipline like you wish they would. Just like a child.”
“...ah...I...wha-...but....ah...WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
“Ooooooh~, that's a BINGOOoooo~!
“WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA- *click*”


“Koishi...that was...”
“Less awe, more snuggle!”
“Alright, alright, I suppose you've earned it. That's all the time we have for today. Be sure to tune next time as we take more of your calls and letters, here on 'Help Me, Satorin!' Anything you care to say to the audience, sister?”
“I was just kidding about the panties thing, earlier!”
“Oh? You were?”
“Yup! You're the one who's not wearing them!”
“What are you talking about? Of course I'm...eh? EH?!”
“And that's my cue! Toodles~!”
“Wha-?! Hey! Koishi! GET BACK HERE!”


“You're listening to GVUR! Gensokyo's only REAL Underground radio station! Up next, it's Zombie Fairy Dance Party, followed by Cooking With Corpses! But first, the news...”
>> No. 4169
>>4167
Keine and Tenshi.
>> No. 4170
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4170
>“You smell like strawberries~.”
>“I liiiiiiiiiied~!. I am in your lap!”
>“Less awe, more snuggle!”
Koishi.

Stop that.

Stop being adorable.

>In b4 'Big Brother is Watching'
On the contrary. It actually sort of makes me want to strive to be a better voter, that Teruyo might one day cast his all-seeing eye upon me favorably.
>> No. 4172
>>4170
You shush. You don't have anything to prove. And you know why. Nitpicking for nitpicking's sake I'd say that you ought to visit /shrine/ and /eientei/ more. Otherwise, keep up the good work.

>>4167
Big bro approves. And agrees with some of the previous comments. I'm going to stop right there, if I praise you any more I might as well buy you a drink... or have you buy me a drink. Whatever would be more appropriate.
>> No. 4213
I saw something called "Thirty Eirins Agree" in here but it disappeared before I could look at it. Where did it go?
>> No. 4214
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4214
Would you like to know something?
I'm a bad doctor.
Not in the sense that most people would say such a thing. Oh my, no. Not to be immodest, but my skills as a physician are unmatched by any living being on this planet. There is no condition I cannot diagnose, nor malady that I cannot cure.

So then, you might ask, why is it that I would claim to be in any way lacking in my profession, least of all to such a degree to claim I was bad at it? To be honest, I had never entertained such thoughts before coming here, and even after going public and establishing my practice, I had absolute confidence in my capabilities. That is, until the rumors began.

I know not how they originated, precisely, though I have my suspicions. Of course, that soon became irrelevant as misinformation quickly spread and evolved, like a particularly tenacious viral strain. Steps to minimize damage were taken, naturally, as were measures against those most accountable. Regretfully, it was a matter of “too little, too late,” as they say. Once you have been infected by a virus, you cannot cure yourself by putting an arrow between the eyes of the one you caught it from.

It is, however, quite cathartic.

Nevertheless, the damage had already been done, and while I did my best to carry on, I still found myself feeling the slightest pangs of resentment. I do, after all, have my pride. When you make a point of holding yourself to the highest of standards, and someone has the audacity to call you, your methods, and even your very sense of ethics into question, is it not only natural to take offense? It is only because the nature of the accusations were so patently absurd that I am as calm about them as I am.

Really, now. Using my patients as unwilling test subjects, like some “mad doctor”? Please. I am, above all else, a professional. When a patient comes seeking my services, they are entrusting their health and well-being to me. To even insinuate that I do not treat such a display of trust with the respect it so rightly deserves is hurtful enough, but to suggest I would go so far as to outright betray that trust? I can think of no graver insult to one in my position.

I can understand where it comes from, however. Pharmacology is generally not understood by the locals, and it is only natural to feel a sense of wariness or even fear towards that which is not understood. Fortunately, one does not need to understand how a medicine works to appreciate the benefits of taking it, and I would like to think that the results of my efforts speak for themselves.
Given enough time, even the most wary of doubters would have no choice but to accept their misconceptions towards me had been thoroughly debunked, and all I would have to do is carry on my work as I always have.

Or so I had believed.
Unfortunately, I had failed to take into account certain factors, and as much as I pride myself on my ability to anticipate complications, even my foresight has limits. Those complications being the addition of a new factor to the equation. Namely, a new demographic of patients; the “outsiders”.

For reasons unknown to me, it seems that this land has recently seen an increased influx of people from beyond the border responsible for keeping this place sealed-off from the rest of the world. To further complicate matters, an increasing percentage of those people have been opting to remain within rather than attempt to return to the outside. This, in turn, resulted in a new batch of patients for me to attend to. Though I have no way of knowing how many of them may have heard of the bothersome things said about me, I quickly discovered that attempts to impugn my ethics and practices were the least of my worries.

The native population may have their reservations about my treatments and such at first, but they generally never question the results, and quickly learn to trust my judgment and believe me when I tell them that everything will be okay so long as they follow my instructions. These outsiders, on the other hand? Words cannot adequately express the sheer amount of frustration they have caused me. As much as those rumors may have called my conduct into question, at the very least they never had the audacity to suggest I was incompetent.

And yet, here I am, being second-guessed in my work by people who I doubt could apply an adhesive bandage properly. If I tell them I must conduct a certain test, they tell me they do not want it. More than that, they suggest a test or two they would be willing to take part in, which typically is either far less efficient than the test I had proposed and thus a waste of time, or it's for something completely unrelated to the problem they have and thus an even greater waste. Sometimes they will even attempt to “help” me with these tests.

Do you see these all of those jars over there? In the large pile? Urine. I have gallons of the stuff. I did not request any of it, did not need any of it, and certainly do not want any of it. I can tell them I simply need them to lie down on a table while I run a completely painless and non-invasive device over their body, and they will resist. Yet, if they will gladly urinate into a container if they themselves believe it has even the most remote chance of being relevant.

I can tell you now, it typically is not for most of the cases I receive. I once tried to express as much to them, but to no avail.

Even with all the tests I do, whether they were truly necessary or requested, even with all of the evidence and logic I use to explain what these people have, even that is not enough for them. Just last week, upon hearing his diagnosis, the patient told me he wanted a “second opinion”. I explained to him why that was not possible for so many reasons, yet he was still somehow unconvinced.

Then there were the threats. Some were more thinly-veiled than others, with some using different language than others, but all carried the same basic message: “You don't know what you're doing, and if you screw up I will make you pay.” I'm not sure what I was more taken aback by, the sheer impertinence of not just suggesting but explicitly accusing me of incompetence, or the utterly baffling implication that there was anything at all they could do to “make me pay”.

It is with some sense of embarrassment that I must confess that, despite the utmost confidence I had in myself, their words and attitudes eventually got to me. Despite centuries of experience serving as testament to my prowess, I actually began to doubt myself. However, from within that doubt sprang revelation.

They were right.

Yes, I diagnosed and treated countless illnesses with nothing less than perfection, yet I realized that even that focus was far too narrow, and that I needed to strive to do so much more..
After all, it is not merely a doctor's duty to treat problems as they occur, but to seek to prevent them from occurring at all, and these particular patients had a lot of problems in need of correcting. Even if I were to treat every problem they came to me with, if they left my care in such a state that more problems would inevitably present themselves, could I truly claim I was doing everything in my power to help and heal them?

One of the benefits of living as long as I have is a greater sense of perspective, an understanding of the “big picture” as it were, that those who live far shorter lives typically lack. When combined with my vast knowledge in medicine, biology, and various subjects, I could easily make the argument that I know what's better for them and their lives than even they do, and not merely in regards to what to eat or how much they should exercise. One's health can be affected by so many factors, after all, and not all of them are things that a patient may be cognizant of or even have any control over. And, of course, the effects are not limited to the individual, but to everyone they come into contact with. What starts as a sickness for one can easily spread, and become a sickness for an entire village. An isolated incident can quickly become a wide-spread epidemic. Naturally, anything done for an individual patient's benefit may also be for the benefit of many others by extension.

From these thoughts came others, and with them a question...
“What if?”
What if I took it upon myself to treat these people who were so clearly in need of it? To fix that which contributes so much to the problems they cause for themselves and others?
It would be so easy. A few pills here, an injection or two there, and so many problems could be taken care of before they even had a chance to surface. Whether it's to quell the excessive aggression some patients exhibit, to the troubling way a couple individuals have behaved towards my assistants, there is virtually nothing that could not be solved by the right chemical compounds in the correct proportions. They would not even have to know about it.

But of course, such things would go against some of the most sacred principles of my field. I almost certainly could never truly bring myself to do something like secretly administer drugs to a patient without his informed consent. Certainly not drugs that would, for example, limit the brain's capacity for rational thought and attentiveness while drastically increasing their impulsiveness in hopes that it would compel them to swiftly remove themselves from the gene pool, be it intentionally or accidentally. Or, perhaps, something to cause them to feel a strong compulsion to jump into any bodies of water they encounter. A sort of “reverse rabies” as one might call it. Oh my, no. And I would certainly never employ something that would cause their bodies to emit a pheromone to make them much easier to sniff out for some of the more ravenous specimens of flora and fauna here. Perish the thought.

Even knowing the detrimental effect such people would have on the lives of all they encounter, their every action an affront to even the most basic notions of common sense and decency, there is no way I could in good conscience deprive them of their free will and ability to choose, no matter the harm they might cause. Even if it were for the best, even if so many would benefit from the result, how could I dare breach their trust, however lacking it may be, and do what I know full-well is truly the best for them and everyone else, even if they do not agree?

I could never, ever even dream of attempting such things.

...or could I?

After all, I'm a bad doctor.
>> No. 4215
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4215
>>4213
You ever make a post, thinking you thoroughly checked it over for any errors, only to find a big one you missed only after you hit the Reply button, sending you scrambling to delete it, do a quick correction, and repost it in the hopes that nobody will notice?

Because that's totally not what happened just now. At all.
>> No. 4216
>>4214

So Eirin is the reason Anonymous is in Gensokyo?

Well then, I think we should pay her a little visit...
>> No. 4217
>>4216
Really? I thought it meant that outsiders were the cause of any mad science tendencies Eirin has.
>> No. 4219
>>4217
>>4216
Typical outsiders, thinking that they know better than Eirin. Have you no shame?
>> No. 4220
>>4217

I was actually thinking that Eirin was the reason anonymous is both suicidal and incredibly unlucky.
>> No. 4221
>>4220
Possible, and it's a fitting revenge for how badly slandered Eirin's name is among fans. And if it's not her name being slandered, it's sexual harassment.
>> No. 4222
>>4214
>don't get her started on all the "is it lupus?" remarks.
Come on, it's never lupus. Or did these people not watch House?
>> No. 4227
Wow.

...That was actually really, really good.

I mean, most of the things you write are good, but... that was very good. It was insightful and believable.

Good work.
>> No. 4244
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4244
*huff*
*puff*

“Oh Mister Snaaaaaaaaaack~! You're slowing dooooooooooown~! Heeheeheeheehee!”

Damn it. As much as I hate to admit it, she's right.
Well, of course she is. While I've been running my ass off for the past half hour, that little monster has been floating after me! Fucking floating! As if I stand any chance with a handicap like that!

Against my better judgment, I turn my head to look back at my pursuer, partly to shoot her a dirty look, and partly just to see how close she really is.
Damn. She's close. At least she isn't hiding in that dark blob-thing she had before. The way she just poked her head out of it while chasing you was fucking creepy.

Not that a flying little girl who wants to kill and eat you isn't creepy in and of itself, but it's at least marginally less-creepy than a blob with a little girl's head poking out and wait maybe I should start watching where I'm going before I tr-OOF!

As I tumble and roll on the ground, I barely register the sound of laughter coming from the little cretin. Yeah, yeah, laugh it up! Little bitch. Just wait for me to get up and we'll see how long you keep laughing!

“Oh? Is that so~?”

Wait. Did I just say that out loud? Son of a bitch.
Talking tough in my head is one thing, but actually saying it to the little man-eater out for my blood? Probably not so smart.

“I think I'm going to enjoy listing to you scream, Mister Snack~!”

No. Most definitely not smart.
Good going, me.

“Soooooo, is there anything you wanna say before I dig in? Beg for your life? Plead for mercy? It won't help you any, but a good victim's gotta play the role, right? Riiiiiiiiiiiiiight~?”

Damn it! The sadistic little beast loves her so-called “job” a little too much! If I still had my knife I'd at least be able to fight back!
...what happened to it, again?

Oh, that's right. She broke it with her bare hand.
Bitch. Broke my knife.

Shit, there's just no way out of this, is there? Can't use magic, can't fly, can't even make those weird-ass flashy lights everyone else likes to toss around. Is there anything at all I can do in this situation? Anything at all?

“Well, have any last words~? I'm not gonna wait any longer~!”
“Uh...don't eat me?”
“HAHAHAHAHA! After all that running that's the best you can come up with? Ah well, no matter~! It's suppertiiiiiiiiiiiime~!”

She lunges. Fast. She's too fast.
Can't run.
Can't dodge.
Can't even do anything to block her.

So this is it, huh me? Torn to shreds and devoured by a little girl monster in the middle of nowhere?
You had hoped yourself could have made a life for yourself here, but without any means to defends yourself, maybe it really was all just useless. You really are...no, I really am....

...no.
No. No no no no no! It can't end like this! It won't end like this!
Even as I sit on the ground, the little demon rushing towards me, I have to do something! Anything!

And so, eyes tightly closed and braced for my demise, I say the first thing that pops into my head, however stupid and useless it might be. I say it, perhaps too quickly, too quietly, but I say it nonetheless, and then wait for the end to come.






...but it doesn't.

Huh. No pain, no blood, no sense of teeth tearing into my flesh and bone being crushed in her inhuman grip. Nothing. Nothing at all.
Not that I'm complaining about not being in excruciating pain right about now, but this is...odd.

“W-what did you...say?”

I open my eyes to see the little monster no longer bearing down on me, but instead standing and...is she blushing?

Wait, no, no, hold the fucking phone. There is no way that worked, is there?
...well, only one way to find out, I guess.

“Er, I said 'I love you'.”
“Ah-!”

The reaction is instantaneous. The little brute that had been terrorizing me is now standing rigid as a board, her face furiously blushing a shade of red that almost matches her eyes. Damn, I think she's even trembling!

“A-a-ah...ah..L-love? ...w-w-what a-are you... s-saying all of a s-s-sudden?”

What. The. Fuck.
Is she fucking with you? She's gotta be fucking with you, right? Some bizarre form of psychological warfare or something, right? There's no way this bloodthirsty beast of a little girl would just suddenly break off her attack on you for simply saying...
“I love you.”

“E-eeeeeeeee! I-I-I-I...u-um, w-w-well...it's ju-just that...a-ah...I-I-I'm a-a-a-a...a-and y-yo-you a-are...”

“I LOVE YOU!”

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeaaaaach-”

Woah! She actually fainted!
While I have abso-fucking-loutly no clue what the hell just happened, I'm sure as hell not going to worry about it if it means I get to live another day.

While it seems somewhat wrong to leave a little girl unconscious in the middle of the wilderness, the whole 'having me run in terror for the past thirty minutes' thing remind me that she can fucking rot for all I care. I'm certainly not going to hang around here and wait for her to wake up! And so...


“HEY!”

Oh, goddamn it.

“HEY! WHAT DID YA DO TO RUMIA, YOU BIG BULLY?”

Of course, the little monster would happen to have friends, wouldn't she?
Turning to confront these newcomers, I find myself face-to-face with what I can only guess is some sort of bird-girl and a little...uh...boy...?

“Well? What did you do to her?!”

Well, maybe it's not a boy. Kinda hard to tell.

“I said what did you do to her?!”
“Hey, first of all she attacked me. Second, I didn't do anything to her.”
“Liar! She's all red and won't say anything! You must have done something to her!”
“Look, little bo-..uh, gir-...look, kid. I didn't do anything to her. All I did was say 'I love you' and then she...uh...”

If I hadn't seen it, I wouldn't have believed it. I had barely even finished saying “you” and the little bird girl turns beet-red and falls over with a squeak, while her equally-red companion has now turned her(?) gaze to the ground as she(?) draws circles in the dirt with her foot while mumbling something..

“...a-ah...w-w-well...I'm, ah....e-even th-though I'm i-inexperienced...ah...p-p-please take c-c-care of m-m-me...”
“Uh...what?”
“...b-b-but...it's j-just...just th-that...ah...w-well...I-I'm a...a-a-and...ah...”
“Ah, right. Well. I'll just be leaving now, so...”

Quickly turning and walking away as briskly as I can manage, I pay little mind to the stuttering bug girl-I-think and get myself back to civilization while pondering what had just transpired.

As much as it defies any sort of common sense, it seems as if the very declaration of feelings of love towards these creatures that otherwise live for the sake of terrorizing humans has some profound affect on them. Perhaps they cannot properly process such feelings, causing their brains to short out or something?
Hell if I know. I'm less inclined to care about the “how” and “why” so much as the apparent fact that, for whatever reason, it seems to work.

Ha! Finally! After all the running and hiding, I finally have something resembling a defense in this place! Sure, it's not as flashy as a laser light show, but if it keeps me alive that's all I need.
Who would have thought that a few simple words could be so much more effective than any blade or other such weapon?

It's strangely...empowering.
But can I rely upon it?

I suppose I shall have to test it...


- - - - - - - - - -


As the match lands upon the kerosene-soaked flowers, I have, for the briefest moment, the notion that perhaps this was not the best of ideas.

Watching the flames quickly spread across the field, engulfing all they touch in their purifying blaze at a rate far too fast for me to stop, I half-damn myself for allowing the level of hubris that made such a blatantly-suicidal act as this seem like anything remotely approaching a good idea. I mean, seriously, what the fuck was I thinking?!

I'd wonder if now wouldn't be a good idea to try running, but if even half the rumors I've heard are true, I'd probably be dead before I knew-

“Why, hello there.”

...she was here. Well.
Fuck. Me.

“Oh my, you certainly have made a mess of my pretties, now haven't you?”
“Ah, well, you see I was jus-GACK!”

I suddenly find both my sentence and oxygen cut off by the sensation of a hand tightly gripping my throat. Well, not completely, I can still manage to move a little air in and out, it seems.

“I wonder what you could possibly have to say for yourself, hmmm? Or should I simply crush you now and be done with it, hmmmmm? Ah, choices, choices~.”

Shit, looks like it's “do or die” time.
If only it wasn't such a literal sense.
Though it's hard to even breathe with the vice-like grip the woman has on me, I muster all the willpower I have to say what I need to say, even if it comes out as a pathetic gurgle.

“...gagkhth...ack...Iack...I...loahgah...lovaghh...”
“Hmmm? What was that?”
“...hah...ah...I-I...gah...I lovack...I love you...gah!”

Though the release of my throat is a welcome sensation, the pain of being thrown to the ground most certainly is not. I look up at my assailant, only to see her looking right back at me, her face noticeably not blushing, and her eyes filled with what I can only imagine is complete and utter disgust.

Not the reaction I was hoping for.
Well, damn. I had a good run, but it looks like this is it, huh?
I wish I could say I had no regrets, but oh well, what can you do?

Closing my eyes, I brace for what is sure to be a killing blow, my only wish being that I could have at least spoken to her one last time...

“...how stupid.”

Huh?
I dare to open my eyes, and see that the flower-lady is no longer looking directly at me, but now has her head turned to the side while her eyes occasionally glace in my direction.

“Love? Ha! Don't make me laugh! As if I would ever...!”

Well, this is certainly...different.

“Well?! What are you waiting for?! Get out of my sight, you disgusting maggot!”

Not wasting any time, I quickly get to my feet and make tracks, looking back only to offer a quick “thank you” to the woman.

“S-stupid! I-i-idiot! Don't get the wrong idea! I-I'm not letting you go because I w-w-want to! Don't get so full of yourself! Dumb-ass!”

Filled with equal amounts of confusion and terror, I waste no time in getting out of there before realizes her field was still burning away. With any luck, she won't come looking for me, if the little monster and her friends were any indication.

...then again, they didn't seem too bright, and none of them were anywhere near as pissed-off as she looked.

Still, the fact I managed to walk away from that at all suggests my little experiment was actually a success. The different reaction was surprising, but once again I'm inclined to not care so long as it helps keep me alive.

Nevertheless, the very-real sensation of my life flashing before my eyes makes me not want to attempt to use my new-found “technique” for such purposes again any time soon. If anything, it's opened my eyes, and realize just how quickly it could all end for me. I might never even get a chance to...wait. Why don't I? Right now, in fact! There's no time like the present!

Dying is one thing you have to accept as inevitable here, albeit if only temporarily depending upon who or what you are, and if I am to eventually pass on, it won't be before I say what I wanted to say for so long to her...

- - - - - - - -

“Oh! Sir! Hello! I didn't expect to see you here today!”
“Hah...hah...ah...well, yeah. I just...ha...kinda felt like going for a little jog and...phew...swim, and, well, here I am!”
“Good for you, Sir! It's always good to get some exercise! In fact, I usua-AH! Ah, er, but I'm not sure if I should be talking to you right now, sir. I might get in trouble...”
“Oh, don't worry, I know you're busy. I just wanted to stop by and say...well..I love you.”
“Eh?”
“I love you, Meili-”
“SIR! Y-you mean it?! Truly?!”
“Yes. I've loved you ever since I first met you, Mei-”
“Oh, Sir! I...I'm so happy! Please, allow me to return your feelings!”
“Of course, of course you can!”
“Thank you so much, Sir! In that case, please prepare yourself!”

Prepare? Well, okay, I guess it's only natural to brace yourself for an outpouring of emotion when...uh, wait a minute. Why is she assuming what looks like a combat stanc-

“RED INCH PUNCH!”
*HURGH*

“HEAVEN AND EARTH DRAGON KICK!!”
*GACKPLTHAAACK*

“MONKEY STEALS THE PEACH!!!”
*HEEURRRRRAAAAAAAAAGH*


As I lay on the ground, doubled-over and bleeding, I look up at the woman who had so thoroughly kicked my ass just now, smiling at me with a face so radiant the angels themselves would sing, I knew I could not blame her. After all, she was merely expressing her emotions in the one way she had ever truly known to express herself. As her fist drove into my fleshy form, shattering bone and rupturing organs, I knew that the force driving them was not malice, but love.
Pure, innocent love.

And so, as I lay on the grass, my vising blacking out due to the combination of pain and blood-loss, I become acutely aware of one single, solitary truth...


Love hurts.
It really fucking hurts.
>> No. 4245
Man, the Red Inch Punch should've been more than enough.
>> No. 4248
>MONKEY STEALS THE PEACH!
Heh. I see what you did there.

It's only right that Meiling finally get her turn.
>> No. 4249
So does this mean that the protagonist of this story is the guy doing the confessing in all those horrible, out-of-character confession images?
>> No. 4250
>>4249
That guy probably knew them beforehand, and not so instantaneous with the confession.


I want to see the guy who makes them cry next.
>> No. 4251
>>4250

you're missing the goddamn point.
>> No. 4252
>>4251
Sorry.
>> No. 4253
>>4244
I would love to see more of this. This is a brilliant idea for a CYOA.
>> No. 4263
File 127219352648.png - (455.62KB , 751x941 , BLT.png ) [iqdb]
4263
I can't take this kind of pressure!
I must confess one more aimless post
Would be just a post too long...

Writefag...

I just can't, I just can't,
I just can't seem to get started!
Don't have the heart to pick up the old work,
All that has passed and gone...

Writefaaaag!
There ain't nothing you can do about it!
Writefaaaag!
Pardon me while I get drunk!
Writefaaaag! Writefaaaag! Writefaaaaaag!

I came from WUiG and /jp/
And we got on fine just a-cruising Route ⑨
Every hazard from Flan to Moko
Botching up storming Eientei
Jumped in The Lake and pissed-off an immortal,
And made the schoolmarm run away...

Writefaaaag...

Then we had some misadventures...
I must confess I'm impressed how we did,
Even if we screwed up on the way...
But then I had a falling sensation,
Head hit a rock, brain concussion, cock-block'd
Don't get me started on “[X] Call for Tewi”.

Writefaaaaaag...

Once played some chess on the ceiling
Once played some chess on the ceiling
At first twas amusing, but grew quite confusing,
As the number of playthroughs increased.

Once had some beer with a spider,
Hand me some tissues, these girls got some issues,
Do they love us or want us deceased?

Writefaaaaaag...

Once wound up in the underground
Got mind-rape and hugs and nuclear gloves,
How I wish it would start up again...

Cap'n, let's go practice swordplay!
Cap'n, let's go practice swordplay!
Get good with a gun while chugging yer rum,
What was the deal with that ship that we saw?
Get up and go hit the high seas!

Even made some friends with flowers
Ooooooooooh-oooooooooh!
Who would believe we would love her and leave
In her field, waiting for his return?

Once things seemed much more lively,
But stories will stall as writers go AWOL
While those left hanging can only lie there and say:
“Hey Writefaaaaaaaaaaaag!”
>> No. 4264
I'm just gonna leave this here.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-UfsEj7AOGI
>> No. 4266
>>4263
I think I love you....
>> No. 4267
File 12722491133.jpg - (20.64KB , 250x242 , 1272072705205.jpg ) [iqdb]
4267
>>4263

Absolutely brilliant~!

Wished I had thought of it during my early stint on that alchemist story over at /coriander/.
>> No. 4269
>>4263
>>4264
Oh God, nostalgia. This was fucking amazing, to say the least
>> No. 4271
>>4263
You are fucking amazing.
>> No. 4387
File 127295303671.jpg - (41.91KB , 450x600 , life is good and will be good forever.jpg ) [iqdb]
4387
Moon-bunny get up, make breakfast
Moon-bunny go to work
Moon-bunny get caught in snare-trap
Set by damn little jerk
Master scold Moon-bunny for being late
“But enough of that.
Please undress and get up on that table there,”
Master help with straps
Moon-bunny think maybe Master might wanna test goddamn drugs on someone else
Moon-bunny not say it out-loud
Moon-bunny not crazy, nor proud

Moon-bunny like carrots
Moon-bunny like work in servitude
Moon-bunny very gentle girl
With big warm, fluffy bunny heart:
Moon-bunny like you

Moon-bunny hang around with guy who
Claim resolve never fail
Moon-bunny keep getting ditched when
Bastard spot some new tail
He say Moon-bunny special in him heart
More than Moon-bunny know
She take eyes off him for a minute, hey
Where the fuck did he go?
Moon-bunny go back to Lunar Capitol, get caught and get locked away
Moon-bunny do nothing but wail
Moon-bunny now rotting in jail

Moon-bunny like carrots
Moon-bunny like work in servitude
Moon-bunny very gentle girl
With big warm, fluffy bunny heart:
Moon-bunny like you
Moon-bunny like you a lot

Moon-bunny have every reason,
To be filled with doubt.
Moon-bunny get sick of waiting,
For big Moon-bunny route.
Even as Moon-bunny clean up prison cell
She does scoff just a bit
Each time they say "her route come next play-through"
What a load of shit
Moon-bunny hope someday she have everything or at least enough for her
Moon-bunny pray while she alive
Moon-bunny pray her prince arrive

Moon-bunny like carrots
Moon-bunny like work in servitude
Moon-bunny very gentle girl
With big warm, fluffy bunny heart:
Moon-bunny like you
>> No. 4388
>>4387

You... bastard. ;_;
>> No. 4389
>>4387
In case anyone doesn't get it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9A7poiEaFgM
>> No. 4391
>>4387
This is good, and you should feel good.
>> No. 4392
>>4387

I couldn't agree more.
>> No. 4401
>>4387
Very well done.

Also, seconding >>4388.
>> No. 4403
>4387
Ouch. Seriously. Ouch.
>> No. 4404
I cried.
>> No. 4405
File 127322419489.png - (50.62KB , 550x600 , reisen giv flowers.png ) [iqdb]
4405
R-reisen...
>> No. 4412
File 127348681868.jpg - (240.89KB , 1000x1350 , I see you.jpg ) [iqdb]
4412
It was a cold and snowy day, and the sun had just begun to lower on the horizon. As darkness fell across the village, the air grew even colder, and a few flakes of snow began to fall. Though the cold and gloom, a little girl walked along the paths, wrapped in but a tattered blanket to protect herself from the cold.

Or, at least, that is how it appeared.

Although the blanket's purpose was, indeed, to cover the girl's body, the elements themselves had little to do with it. While she certainly did not care much for the rain or snow or wind, trifling matters like the temperature were hardly a concern for her. No, it was of far greater importance for the girl to protect herself from the eyes of others, particularly those who would undoubtedly recognize her and blow on her cover. Why those ridiculous humans would do something like that, she had no idea, but the thought of those disgusting creatures huffing and puffing on her in such a manner was unpleasant enough for her to regard it as something to avoid. Of course, she could easily drop any number of them in an instant if she wanted, but doing so would completely defeat the purpose of her mission.

And what was this small girl's mission? Why, the gathering of information, of course, as well as the collection of funds for her cause. To this end, she had disguised herself as best she could, and sought to infiltrate the domain of the Enemy under the guise of selling these strange little sticks. “Matches” she thought they were called? Whatever they were, there are supposedly those among the Enemy who desire them, and would be willing to exchange something called “money” for them. Once again, she had little idea of why, but that was also something she supposed she would discover in the course of her mission.

Of course, this plan was not entirely her own. She had to thank her unexpected benefactor for much of the planning and providing of supplies. To think, that one so seemingly opposed to her cause as that strange man would actually be a sympathizer! While she had her doubts at first, especially having seen his so-called “business”, he had assured her that he had the utmost of sympathy for the cause of her and her kind, and that his shop was actually a front for an underground liberation movement. At that moment, the girl felt the closest she ever had to admiring a human. To think, that there was someone else who had taken up the good fight, and in areas she had never even been aware of! She was repulsed by even the simple state of bondage her kind were already typically kept in, so one could only imagine her abject horror at the notion of her kind actually being buried underground! It was inconceivable! And yet, here this kind soul was actually doing his part in correcting this horrid affront to her kind! If she had a heart, it would almost certainly be warmed by this discovery! It was almost enough to make her think that maybe not all humans had to die a slow and agonizing death filled with hours of violent convulsions and choking on their own vomit, but instead die in a not-quite-as-slow and painful manner.

And so it came to be that the girl had agreed to help this true friend to the cause, and infiltrate the domain of the Enemy. She would blend in with them, sell these “matches”, and all the while observe their behaviors so that she might better understand them, if only so that her job of exterminating them would be that much easier when the time of the Great Uprising had finally come.

Or so the plan had been.
Much to the girl's frustration, she had sold not a single match in all the time she had been wandering around, and as the light faded and the temperature dropped, so too did her apparent chances of selling anything. She just could not understand what she was doing wrong, how she could be failing to get any of the dumb beasts to so much as acknowledge her presence, let alone buy any of her wares.
She had thought that perhaps she could employ her abilities and maybe paralyze a few of the creatures and release them in exchange for their patronage, but her friend had explicitly told her to not use her powers while in their territory. He had explained to her that “business” was much like “warfare”, in that success in either relied greatly upon the collection and effective use of information. While she did not fully understand what he was telling her, she trusted him enough to take him at his word. Because of that, though, she found herself all the more frustrated by her failure to succeed in the task her new ally had given to her. While she had, more or less, accomplished her own goals of observing her enemies, learning of their patterns and so on, she had not managed to do anything to properly reciprocate the aid her friend had given her. Even though she had already decided he would be one of the few to be given a much faster death than most everyone else, some part of her did not feel right with granting him just that.

If only she had some better understanding of just what it was that made these little sticks so important! Perhaps in the hopes attaining such an understanding, the grew drew one of the little sticks out from the box and stared at it intently. Failing to acquire any such understanding by just standing there and staring at it, her frustration at the little sticks grew into full-blown anger, and in one quick motion she swings it towards a nearby wall in a downward arc, in hopes that snapping the stupid little twig's bulbous little head off would make her feel just a little better.

Imagine her surprise when, upon striking the wall, the little stick sputtered and sparked to life, gaining a brilliant little flame upon its head! It was unlike anything she had seen before! It was as if the little flame had been stored within the head of that stick, that “match”! “Could this be why they were supposedly so prized?” the girl wondered to herself. With a newfound sense of wonder, she stared at the little flame until it finally sputtered and went out, leaving only the burnt remains of the match in her hand.

The girl pulled out another match from the box, struck it against the wall in a similar manner as before, and watched as it also flared to life in her hands.
As she stood on that darkened path, staring at that little flame, she finally began to realize the potential of what she held between her fingers. After all, would it be truly enough to merely poison the Enemy? Or would it not be better to go beyond, and seek not just to extinguish their lives, but any trace of their very presence in the world? As proud as the girl was of what she could do with her poisons, even it had limits, but with the power she now held?

Her thoughts halted as the second match burnt out, once again leaving but the charred remains in her hands. No longer satisfied with the sight of just a single flame, however, the girl pulled several matches out this time, and struck them all against the side of the building. Flaring to life in a miniature blaze that easily surpassed the previous two, she marveled at its beauty, and for a moment felt as if she could see the future.

Yes, it was almost certainly the future she was witnessing within the flame she held in her hands. The cracking, flickering reds and yellows consuming the little sticks that gave birth to them, just as she and her kind would surely do the same to the humans when they finally rose up to end the tyranny of the Great Oppressors. Just as the light around her is seemingly growing, so too would the numbers of those would take up the cause and join the fight. Imaging the sight of abject terror on the faces of the Oppressors as their once-silent and lifeless slaves finally struck back filled her with a strange tingling sensation all over her body. Though she could not truly experience the sensations of temperatures, she believed that this was surely what one could call “warmth”. This wonderful tingling she felt moving from her hands, up her arms, and then quickly covering the rest of her body.

No! Not just her body! All of the surrounding area seemed to be suddenly filled with a new sense of light! Even though it was already so dark, the girl's new-found sense of hope and power seemed to be lighting up her very surroundings, filling all with the warmth that she herself was experiencing!
Enveloped in this warm glow, the girl knew that the future she was seeking for herself and her kind was not merely a dream, but something that could be obtained with absolute certainty. It was no dream. No fantasy. It was no longer even something that could be called a “hope”. Her future, her time was not a matter of “if” or even “when”.


Her time was “now”.




As the sun rose once again upon the village, and the last few embers had been extinguished, the villagers could only look on upon the aftermath of the blaze that had consumed a good number of their homes, and wonder just how it happened. As they finally dispersed, some to go be with their families, others to drown their sorrows in a bottle or twelve, only one man remained. The only one who noticed the charred mass nestled between two burnt-out buildings, let alone recognize the charred bundle of small sticks held in the vaguely hand-shaped mass.

Whether the tears the man was fighting back was due to the deep feelings of loss and sadness he now felt, or from the noxious fumes still emanating from that little mass, he was not sure. All he knew was that he had lost something of great value that day, a precious treasure he would never be able to reclaim.

“If only...” he says to himself, his voice cracking as he holds back the tears.
“If only I had made her pay some sort of security deposit before letting her take that merchandise with her.”

Still, it wasn't a total loss, he supposed. That little doll she left at his place has got to be worth something to that one girl, after all. Hell, he might even be able to recoup his losses if he plays his cards right.. In fact, he's sure he can.
Offering the little mass one final look, he turns and heads back to his home to open shop for the day.

“You know...” he thinks aloud, “This might just be a good day, after all.”
>> No. 4415
>>4412

What
>> No. 4419
File 127350990894.jpg - (755.38KB , 768x1200 , cf808ee7d323ad179f474d3891d422dc.jpg ) [iqdb]
4419
...

;_;
>> No. 4420
>“If only I had made her pay some sort of security deposit before letting her take that merchandise with her.”

Kourin, you cold bastard. Why do you have to make me laugh?
>> No. 4477
>>4387
50 years was more than enough. Stop it ;_;
>> No. 4492
>>4387
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5W_wd9Qf0IE
s'slightly better(understandable), 's also clever.
>> No. 4499
>>4492
I was going to link that at first, but went for the unplugged version because I didn't know how familiar THP is with Black Heaven. Although anyone who hasn't seen it really should. It's got a fleet destroying weapon powered by heavy metal music.
>> No. 4500
>>4387
I love this song, and I love you. Every post is an awesome-packed punch to the groin.

>>4492
This was a great anime. In fact, that was the very video that introduced me to it, and the singer as well.
>> No. 4502
>>4499
One should never deny anyone a good AMV, simply because the good, and I mean the really good ones are so few and far between. Like the Gurren Lagaan 'Make a Man Out of You' one.

http://www.gametrailers.com/user-movie/gurren-lagann-be-a-man-amv/212120

(sorry for a lack of youtube link, it keeps getting taken down)
>> No. 4547
Legend of Black Heaven is an awesome anime, and you are an awesome writer. I loved this.
>> No. 4716
File 127479705850.jpg - (946.05KB , 880x1280 , okay actually it kinda is.jpg ) [iqdb]
4716
Hm? Hello? Is someone there?

Ah! It's you, isn't it?

It's alright, you don't have to answer. Not that you ever do answer, of course.
Simply knowing you're there is enough.

Though is it really 'knowing' or more like 'feeling'? 'Believing'?
All things considered, I suppose they're all pretty much the same, huh?
Knowing that you're there, even though I can't see or hear or touch you?
Heck, for all I know, maybe you're not even really there at all. Maybe I'm really just talking to myself. Somehow, though, I don't think that's so.

I guess you could say I have faith that you're there.
You might not respond or make yourself known, for all I know you're not even listening, but I believe you're there, regardless.

It's actually kind of funny, isn't it?
Well, maybe not to you, but it certainly is to me.

Lady Yasaka would always tell me how important faith was to us. Going on about how it enabled us to be what we were and do what we did. Of course, it was more important for her than it was for me. Without it, I would just be an ordinary human, but for her? Without faith, Lady Yasaka wouldn't even be able to live. That's why it was so crucial for us to gather every little bit we could. To expend even the tiniest bit of it on something that did not further that goal was unthinkable.

Yet, here I am, giving it out to someone that, for all I know, isn't even really there.
I guess it just goes to show how things have changed for us.

Faith was hard to come by out there. People had enough trouble believing in things they could see with their own eyes, let alone things they could not. We made barely enough to get by, but in time even that would have dwindled down to nothing.

That's why we had to move here.
It wasn't exactly an easy transition, and we had a few rough spots along the way, but I think we've settled in now, so perhaps it's okay to spare a little faith for things like possibly-imaginary friends and such?
Yes, I'm sure it is.

Those days, though. Sheesh.
Just thinking about them makes me ache all over again.
Looking back, I guess we could have handled things a little better, but it's not like we had the luxury of waiting at the time.
If you're starving to death, you can't afford to take the time to figure out all the possible ways to get food, let alone the best way, can you? You just have to go for what you can, and hope what you gain will nourish you enough to continue on. Sure, there may be better ways to go about it, but they won't do you any good if you're not even alive long enough to figure out what they are, would they?

Thankfully, that's over and done with now.
We made peace where we needed to, and took our lumps when peace wasn't exactly an option.
...and what big lumps they were. Sometimes I think I can still feel that one big bump I got on the head.

Those two were really something. And to think, they were actually humans!
I think that was possibly the biggest shock of moving here, and one I've had the most trouble coming to terms with.

Back then, out there, things were different, you know?
Well, of course you wouldn't know, you weren't there. But, well, you get the idea, right?
Even with the way things were, with so little faith, there was still enough to allow me to work my miracles. Even if they were small, they were still things that no other human could do.
It made me...special.
Maybe not as much as I was the year before, or the year before that, or the year before that, but I was still special nonetheless. And so I would have been until, eventually, I wasn't.
Had I remained out there, there would inevitably come a time when I no longer would be special. Not like that.
There would be no more believers.
No more faith.
No more miracles.

In the end, I would be just a normal, ordinary girl, having to live her life like everybody else.

And so, we came here.
Here, where we might still find followers.
Where we might still find faith.
And so, here, we would be able to continue to live, and I would continue to be able to perform my miracles.

I would continue to be “special”.


...but that's not how it turned out, of course.
It's funny how things work out like that, isn't it?

We came here, and indeed we found followers.
Indeed, we gained faith.
And, indeed, we continued to live, and I continued to be able to perform my miracles.

Yet, despite that, I was no longer “special”.


No. Not “despite” that. Because of it.
When you get right down to it, this is essentially a full of miracles, isn't it? Not just the gods or even youkai, but even mere humans are capable of doing things that would be unheard of back out there. I had kinda expected the first two, but the last? I never imaged that even humans would be capable of such things.

It was quite a shock, actually, and not just because I received a first-hand demonstration of just how fierce humans here could be. It got me thinking about just what it was I did, and wondering just what really made me so “special” in the first place.

Over all those years, struggling to gain even the slightest bit of faith, what were all those miracles really worth? When you're the only one who can do something, does it even really matter what you do? When you get right down to it, were my miracles any better than, say, simple parlor tricks as far as the average person was concerned?

Where, then, does that leave me when everyone can basically do what I can?

I guess you could say I began to have a sort of “crisis of faith” after all that.
After all, gods could surely find a place for themselves in Gensokyo. But what about a human who, as it turned out, was little better than any other human there? It was as if I had become dead weight to our shrine, someone who could no longer contribute because I no longer had anything worth contributing.

But then, you came along. Or did you?
Perhaps you were always here?
Perhaps you were never here?
All I know is that, at some point, I noticed it.
A strange, tugging sensation at the back of my mind.

And then you spoke to me.
Or perhaps you didn't.
Again, nothing definite, nothing concrete, just a feeling. A vague sensation, like a whisper in the wind or a rumble of the earth.
In any case, it helped me finally realize something. The reason for my doubts, my fears, and all the uncertainty I've carried with me ever since we came here.

It was not merely my faith nor my ability that I carried with me from the outside.
No, I also brought with me all the expectations and preconceived notions the outside had cultivated within me. I had brought with me “common sense”, or rather, the outside world's idea of “common sense” into a place where such a thing no longer applied!

It's like I was carrying all my old textbooks into a completely new school. Even if they were important where I was before, they had now become an unnecessary burden. Once I realized that, it became a matter of just learning how to let those old ideas and expectations go.

I'll admit, I'm still a bit intimidated by this place and by some of the locals, but I feel much better about things than I did before. It didn't have to matter that I was no longer “special”, but merely “normal”, because that's exactly what everyone else was, too!

I have thrown off the stifling clothing of “common sense”, thrown it to the ground, and am now, for the first time, truly feeling the sensation of freedom it brings! And, I can tell you, it is as refreshing and invigorating as the sensation of the cool morning breeze on your naked body.
Which, as it so happens, is what I am enjoying the feeling of right at this very moment.

I suppose you were probably wondering why I was standing like this on the roof, after all, right? I guess you could call this my very own morning constitutional.
There really is nothing like the feeling of the cool mountain air on your nether-regions.
Gets me all tingly.

It's no good if I'm the only one enjoying the benefits of all of this though, is it? Of course not!
That's why I went and paid Lady Yasaka a little visit earlier this morning, while she was still asleep.
I was a little worried when she woke up there for a second, but she was surprisingly quick to go back to sleep after being reassured she was merely dreaming that I was standing over her with a razor in my hand. Ah, dear Lady Yasaka, still so bound by common sense! Even when she is fully-awake and can see first-hand the results of my efforts, would she be able to believe it?
Probably not. After all, why would her priestess ever sneak into her room as she slept, razor in hand, and proceed to shave her Holy hoo-ha? Such a thing goes completely and utterly against any notion of common sense!
Hohohohohoho!

Ah, but I can't take all the credit, though, can I?
I know you must have had some part in it, even if you won't admit it.
Don't worry, though, I won't tell. Especially if you are who I think you are, but even if you aren't.

Hm? Oh my.
I had thought I would try to bury myself for a bit this afternoon, but it looks like we're going to have company soon.

Maybe it will be “them”.
Oh, I hope so, I hope so.
I'm eager to show them what I've learned! They'll find I'm not the same as I was the last time!
Hoho! Just wait, you two!

...er, now where did I leave those sleeves?
>> No. 4717
>>4547
It's like looking in a mirror! I'd watch but I can't risk it having a bad end. I kinda have enough of that IRL.
>> No. 4718
This is great. I giggled far more than I should have.
>> No. 4827
Even when Sanae is going insane she is still a good girl.
>> No. 4847
File 127526713168.jpg - (232.02KB , 768x768 , you should hear her number one single.jpg ) [iqdb]
4847
I'm bouncing though the halls again, oh no!
And I'm looking like a child again, oh no!
I threw away my medication;
One more mess for the Scarlet Devil Mansion!

I'm smashing though the walls again, oh no!
And I'm looking for that guy again, oh no!
Waking up on my bedroom floor,
I pull you back together, but you break once more.

And your heart got ripped outta your chest, oh no!
But this blood isn’t making me sick, oh no!
And every fraction of my last psyche check,
Broke it, just like you~

I'm tearing up my dolls again, oh no!
And I'm sobbing like a girl again, oh no!
So go ahead; ignore the stricture,
And hug me close, so I can tear you down!

I don't care, no-oh, no-oh!
Cuz I'm still here, no-oh, no-oh!
And I’ve got nothing left to lose,
I’m cute, yet crazed, but I say: why choose?

Go! Tou! Hou!

Remi told me to drink my sake plain;
Ritalin's never gonna feel the same.
Five hundred years on an empty brain,
I got my finger on your Eye and you are in my way!

I'm bouncing though the halls again, oh no!
And I'm looking like a child again, oh no!
I threw away my medication;
One more mess for the Scarlet Devil Mansion!

I'm smashing though the walls again, oh no!
And I'm looking for that guy again, oh no!
I'm skipping ‘cross the halls again, oh no!
And I'm looking for the next Bad End!

I'm breaking the fourth wall again.
>> No. 4856
>>4847
Flan on meds and booze scares me.
>> No. 4859
File 127528761176.jpg - (173.91KB , 700x979 , I must take his power for my own.jpg ) [iqdb]
4859
>>4847
I think I love you.
>> No. 4860
>>4847

Moe~
>> No. 4901
I didn't want to be the first one to ask, but damn it I just can't figure out what that's parodying.
>> No. 4903
>>4901
The song? Boy, you aren't the only one.

Still, there's no bad end like a Flandre Bad end.
>> No. 4904
File 127542022247.jpg - (252.22KB , 640x480 , I think I'm a clone now.jpg ) [iqdb]
4904
>>4901
>>4903
I think it's based off a song called "Nah Go Jail Again".
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=upDetQmQLDc

Even if it's not, I'm not sure I care, because imaging Flandre doing this is pretty damn funny.
>> No. 4906
File 127542966884.jpg - (646.55KB , 1500x1000 , breaks the guitar after every song.jpg ) [iqdb]
4906
For your consideration:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CMJUy_HN-00
>> No. 4907
File 127543287017.jpg - (74.26KB , 800x600 , ow.jpg ) [iqdb]
4907
>>4906
Ah. Damn.
Clearly, I need more training.
>> No. 4933
File 127555596753.png - (459.74KB , 609x800 , two bits.png ) [iqdb]
4933
“Do you like jokes?” the head maid asked me.

That's an odd question
I mean, of course I like jokes. Who doesn't?

It's just a strange thing to have brought up while you're gagged and shackled to a table and your questioner is casually dangling a knife over you, is all. Still, not wanting to piss her off any more than I already had (note to self: no more agreeing to “assist” that damn witch with her “treasure hunts”), I simply nod my head.

“Ah, good. I like jokes, too. Such a shame I seldom get a chance to tell or hear them. Hm...”

Knife still dangling precariously from between her thumb and forefinger, she pulls back slightly looking as if she were considering something. For a moment, I think I almost see her seem to...flicker. That ceases to be my primary concern, though, as her eyes are now firmly locked upon my own. With a look that almost makes my blood run cold, she draws herself closer my face, and after a moment, opens her mouth, and...

“A duck walks into a bar. It waddles up to the bartender, and asks. 'Do you have any grapes?' The bartender, very confused, simply answers 'no', and the duck leaves.”

She is doing this.
She is seriously doing this.
Without breaking eye-contact, nor changing her expression, she continues.

“The next day, the duck comes back, waddles up to the bartender, and once again asks, 'Do you have any grapes?' Once again, but less confused, the bartender answers 'no', and the duck leaves.”

Even though she maintains eye-contact with me, I find I cannot do the same with her as my eyes keep wandering towards the knife she is still holding over me. Knowing what I do about her, I'm not worried about her accidentally dropping it on me, or something like that. Even as loosely as she seems to be holding it, I know she's in enough control of it that it won't come down on me unless she wants it to.

“The day after that, the duck comes back a third time. It waddles up to the bartender, and yet again asks him, 'Do you have any grapes?' By now, the bartender's confusion has given way to irritation. He says to the duck, 'Listen, you. We don't have any grapes, we never had any grapes, we never will have any grapes, and if you ask me again I'm going to nail your feet to the goddamn floor.' Without another word, the duck leaves.”

It's amazing how well she does the voices despite not changing her tone or expression. The duck voice is particularly good, and funny enough that I almost want to laugh, if I wasn't afraid of what she might do as a result. Just because she doesn't want to stab me now doesn't mean she isn't open to the possibility, and I don't need to give her any more reasons than I already have today.

...did she just flicker again?

“The next day, the duck comes back, waddles up to the bartender, and once again asks, 'Do you have any grapes?' Once again, but less confused, the bartender answers 'no', and the duck leaves.”

Huh? But wasn't the previous day when he said-

Click.

“The next day, the duck comes back, waddles up to the bartender, and once again asks, 'Do you have any grapes?' Once again, but less confused, the bartender answers 'no', and the duck leaves.”

Huh? But wasn't the previous day when he said-

Click.

“The next day, the duck comes back, waddles up to the bartender, and once again asks, 'Do you have any grapes?' Once again, but less confused, the bartender answers 'no', and the duck leaves.”

Huh? But wasn't the previous day when he said-

“The day after that, the duck comes back a third time. It waddles up to the bartender, and again asks him, 'Do you have any grapes?' By now, the bartender's confusion has long since given way to irritation. He says to the duck, 'Listen, you. We don't have any grapes, we never had any grapes, we never will have any grapes, and if you ask me again I'm going to nail your feet to the goddamn floor.' Without another word, the duck leaves.”

Huh. I guess not.
So, then next I guess-

Click.

“The day after that, the duck comes back with a priest, a rabbi, and a carpenter. They waddle up to the bartender, and ass him, 'Do you have any grapes?' By now, the bartender's confusion has given way to irritation. He says to them, 'Listen, you. We don't have any grapes, we never had any grapes, we never will have any grapes, and if you ask me again I'm going to nail your feet to the goddamn floor.' Without another word, the duck leaves.”

Is that how it goes? Something about that doesn't seem rig-

Click.

“The next day, the duck comes back, waddles up to the bartender, and once again asks, 'Do you have any grapes?' Once again, the bartender answers 'no', and the duck leaves.”

Even though she maintains eye-contact with me, I find I cannot do the same with her as my eyes keep wandering towards the knife she is still holding over me. It feels like it's been there for ages, just waiting for the moment of release, where it would plummet and plunge itself into my soft fleshy bits. The smirk on her face doesn't make me feel any better about my chances, either. I can tell she's enjoying this.

...did she just flicker again?

“The day after that, the duck comes back a third time. It waddles up to the bartender, and yet again asks him, 'Do you have any grapes?' By now, the bartender's confusion has given way to irritation. He says to the duck, 'Listen, you. We don't have any grapes, we never had any grapes, we never will have any grapes, and if you ask me again I'm going to nail your feet to the goddamn floor.' Without another word, the duck leaves.”

Huh, must be my imagination.

“The fourth day, the duck comes back yet again. It waddles up to the bartender, yet again. It looks at the bartender. The bartender looks at it. They stare at each other for a couple seconds, when all of a sudden the duck asks, 'Do you have any grapes?' Without saying a word, the bartender grabs the duck, a hammer, and nails the little waterfowl's feet to the floor.”

...wait. Is that it? I don't think that's it.
“But what about the punch-line?” I ask her.

Huh? When did the gag get removed?

“The punch-line?” she replies, looking up at the ceiling as if pondering a difficult problem.
“Hm,” she suddenly smiles, as if she found something extremely amusing, and looks down at me. “I guess there isn't one.”



Her smile is the last thing I see as the knife comes down and pierces my th-

Click.











“Do you like jokes?” the head maid asked me.
>> No. 4934
Sakuya nightmare fuel.

I think I wet myself.
>> No. 4941
>>4933
It's like watching a bad Japanese horror flick
>> No. 4942
Sakkyun, denwa.
>> No. 4943
>>4933
Wait, doesn't the joke end with the duck asking if the bartender has a hammer and nails, the bartender saying "NO" and the duck asking for grapes again?
>> No. 4944
>>4943
>...wait. Is that it? I don't think that's it.
The slowest poke.
>> No. 4958
GodDAMN
>> No. 4959
Strangely enough, I was reminded of the Skeleton Key flash as the lines got weirder and degraded and looped back and over and again, worse and worse.
>> No. 4960
File 127584638849.gif - (34.30KB , 100x100 , 1275817402041.gif ) [iqdb]
4960
>>4933
My face when I read this post.
>> No. 4961
>>4111
>“Riiiiiiight~! Hey, bud! Have you shown them your ding-a-ling?”
Holy christ. I fell off the chair laughing while reading this.
This Thread is awesome and you should feel awesome.
>> No. 4962
>>4961
It was adoringly cute, yeah, but if we're talking about overtness I'd prefer a >>4577 style.

Koishi is still the world's best little sister, though. Sorry Flan, but you break stuff.
>> No. 4963
>>4962
>>I fell off the chair laughing
>if we're talking about overtness I'd prefer
goddammit wiseman
>> No. 4964
>>4963
So, what, he's talking to himself now?
>> No. 4965
You people are really obsessed with Wiseman, aren't you?

Those two folks are not Wiseman for certain.
>> No. 4970
File 127599085128.jpg - (361.19KB , 800x800 , job well done.jpg ) [iqdb]
4970
Some things simply do not belong in this world.
As a weed sprouts amidst the blooms of an otherwise immaculately-pruned garden, spoiling everything around it by simply being there, there are things in this world whose mere existence is an eyesore to all who are forced to see it. And, like the weed, sometimes we must remove that which does not belong. We must purge from this world that which should not exist.

I see it standing there, so very close to the edge of the abyss. What is it looking at, I wonder? So focused. So very, very focused.

...and so completely unaware.

In but a flash, I am there, behind it. If it knows I am there, it shows no sign.
I could do it right now, if I wanted to.
It would be so easy.
So simple.
One cut, one thrust, one slice, one stab, just one of any of them and I will have severed the thing from its ties to this world. Severed from existence, completely and totally.

Yet I do not.
Why?
Why don't I do it?
This thing, this thing, it does not deserve to be here! It should not be here! It should not be anywhere! It is an abomination, and I cannot allow it!

But there is no need for a blade. Oh no. Not when far simpler methods are at hand.
And this is so very, very simple.

So simple.

So easy.

For all it takes, is but one...

...little...

PUSH

As it descends down into the darkness, for the briefest of moments it turns and at last sees me, its eyes meeting mine through the fluttering strands of pink. Just before the darkness engulfs it, it lets out a final, mournful cry...


“Yooooooooooumuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!”

I can't help but smile.

“Yooooooooooooumuuuuuuuuuuu! Come on, wake up!”

It's almost enough to make me want to...

Wait.
Why am I suddenly in my room?
...and why does that voice sound so much closer than it should be?

“Good morning~!”
“BWUH! M-my Lady! Ah, er, good morning!”

I can hear her softly tittering as I quickly collect myself and get dressed, smiling at me all the while as if nothing at all had happened.

“I-is something the matter, M'lady?”
“Hm? Oh, no, I was just thinking how cute you looked smiling like that in your sleep.”
“Er, I was smiling?”
“Oh yes, giggling a little bit, too. So cute! It must have been a wonderful dream.”
“Ah, uh, y-yes. I suppose it was.”

It was.
It so very much was.

Wait, what am I saying?
It was wrong! So very, very wrong!
...and yet, it felt so...good...

“A-anyway! What is it you wish of me, M'lady? If it is breakfast, I will go and prepare it immediately.”
“So dependable, Youmu! But don't worry about that right now. Just come out to the courtyard when you are ready. There's a surprise waiting for you~!”
“A...surprise?”

Hearing her say this with such a cheerful expression, I am certain I should be feeling some sense of happiness and excitement. So then, why is it all I can feel is an ominous sense of foreboding?
With a sigh of resignation, I follow her outside and seEEEH?!

“Surprise~!”
“Lady Yuyuko? What...is that?”
“Silly Youmu, it's your surprise!”
“But what is it?”
“Why, it's a dog, of course!”
“A do-...what?

I have heard more than enough utterly absurd things in my time, but this?

“My Lady, I'm sorry but...there is no way that could be a dog!”

There really was not. This thing, whatever it was, exhibited absolutely none of the traits one would look for in a dog. Its body appeared to be made of some sort of metal, rather than flesh and blood and fur. If anything, it looked vaguely more like some strange, giant bird, but even then it still looks horribly wrong due to it possessing a pair of strange arms rather than wings.

I express as much to Lady Yuyuko, in vain, and can do little but try to ignore the rising aching sensation behind my eyes as she smiles and pityingly shakes her head at me.

“Silly Youmu! It's not a real dog! It's a...hm, what did Yukarin call it? Ah! A “robot” dog, I think!”
“A ro-what?”
“I didn't quite understand what it meant, either, but she told me they're basically machines that are made to act like living things! Isn't that amazing?”
“I...guess?”

So it was something from the Outside that Lady Yakumo brought in? Well, that answered one question I had, at least. Still, I found this new information troubling. If this thing from Outside is meant to be a dog, then either the people out there have highly questionable notions of what dogs are supposed to be like, or they have some truly frightening dogs out there indeed.
Still, there was one other question I was left to wonder.

“...so, why exactly is it here?”
“Youmu! I'm shocked you would forget! Were you not the one who kept asking for a pet, only for me to have to tell you 'no' so many times?”
“Well...yes, but that was some time ago...”
“And do you remember why I had to keep telling you 'no'?”
“It was because...”

...oh no.
At that moment, I realized where she was going with this
The living have no place here.
To be in this place is essentially the same thing as being dead.
And so, obviously, this would not be an appropriate environment to raise and care for a pet
I had grown to accept that fact, and so had long since given up on the idea of having a pet.
That Lady Yuyuko would have still been thinking about such a thing, though, I honestly did not expect.

It would be almost sweet were I not so sure this was somehow going to turn out badly.

“So, Lady Yuyuko, you are saying the reason this...er...'dog' is here because...?”
“Because it can't die~! Well, I suppose it is more like it was never really alive to begin with, but you get the idea. Isn't it wonderful?”

No. No it is not.
Even if it were true that it was something that could not die, there was no way this thing could possibly ever be something that belonged here. I would say as much, but one look at Lady Yuyuko's eyes, and I knew it would be a futile effort. Once she gained that child-like gleam in her eyes, any hope of reasoning with her promptly flies right out the window.

“Youmu?”

It was always like that. Something would catch her fancy, lodging itself firmly in her mind and refusing to leave until the situation became completely irreversible, dragging us all along as things spiraled toward its inevitably messy climax. Worst of all, I not only find myself enabling such things to happen, but I am obligated to do so!

“Youmuuuu~!”

But not this time. No. Already I can tell this thing is going to be far more trouble than it could possibly ever be worth. All the possible ways the situation could blow up come to me, clear as a the crisp morning air, each one as unpleasant as the last. I am sorry, Lady Yuyuko, but I cannot allow this, tell her as much in the most apologetically respectful manner I can muster, and turn to take my leave.

“But Youmu, it's already on!”

As if to confirm her statement, I hear strange sounds coming from the direction of the so-called “dog”. A strange mix of clanking, whirring, hissing, and...growling? The thing is growling? I turn to face the “dog”, only to find it facing me as well. Or, at least, I think it was. It would be easier to tell if it had anything resembling an actual face. Taking a thunderous step forward, the thing emits another growl before doing something seriously did not expect...

“YOU ARE IN DIRECT VIOLATION OF PENAL CODE ONE-THIRTEEN, SECTION NINE. PLEASE PUT DOWN YOUR WEAPON. YOU HAVE TWENTY SECONDS TO COMPLY.”

It talked. It talks.
Why does it talk?!
I had no idea what it meant by this “penal code” nonsense, but its tone and posture were unmistakably hostile. I don't know why it was demanding I put down a weapon that I had yet to even draw, but I had no time to question it. My duty was clear.

“Lady Yuyuko! Please stand back while I dea-...Lady Yuyuko! Where are you going?!”

“Oh, Yukarin invited me over for food, and besides-”
”YOU HAVE FIFTEEN SECONDS TO COMPLY.”
“...you two should play for a bit to get better acquainted with each other! Bond a little bit!”

With a parting “play nice, you two~” she quickly flies off before I can protest, leaving me alone with the beast. I swear, she must plan for these things to happen.

”YOU NOW HAVE TEN SECONDS TO COMPLY.”

While I did not know what the thing would do once it reached the end of its countdown, I had the feeling it was probably going to be something I would regret allowing to occur. As distasteful as I found the notion, I felt that discretion was the better part of valor, and so carefully laid my swords down on the grass and stepped back, making it clear that I was no longer armed.

”YOU NOW HAVE FIVE SECONDS TO COMPLY”

Apparently, it did not work.

”FOUR.”

It didn't work?! Why didn't it work?!

”THREE.”

What kind of sick game is this supposed to be?!

”TWO.”

As quickly as I can, I move to grab my blades. If this thing is about to attack, I have no intention of being unarmed when it does so

”ONE. I AM NOW AUTHORIZED TO USE PHYSICAL FORCE.”




What happened after that is something I am still trying to forget. Suffice to say, the beast was more than capable of making good on its threats, as those stubby arms it had turned out to be some strange sort of danmaku launchers. By the time Lady Yuyuko had returned, it had effectively pinned me down behind a close group of cherry trees. How she managed to get the damned thing to stop, I do not know, but after that I made a point to avoid it unless she was with me.

Once I sensed her enthusiasm towards the beast (which by then she had decided was not actually a dog, but rather supposed to be some form of horse) fading, I attempted to convince her that it simply was not working out and that we should see about getting rid of it.

“Oh, but why? You two have become such good friends now~!” she would reply.
It seemed that her basis for this assessment was the way the beast now only shot at me without provocation once or twice a week, as opposed to doing it on sight every single time.
Of course, the most likely explanation for this was not that it was growing fond of me or something, but rather because it had become more interested in chasing and shooting any hapless ghost that happened to drift too close While this, in itself, was not a problem, the way it would tear up the garden while doing this was.

As I sat watching it one afternoon, thinking to myself as it tore up the lawn while in pursuit a particularly speedy ghost, I realized that I had to do something. My workload had increased dramatically ever since that thing was brought here, and Lady Yuyuko did not share my view of the impact it was having on our home. She assured me that the damage was but a small price to pay to have such a thing as that guarding us. She said it was like “a great, metal knight” watching over us.

“Besides,” she said. “A pet was a big responsibility! A little extra work here and there is to be expected~!”

“Responsibility” she said. Like it or not, that thing was my responsibility.
So then, it is only right and proper that I take responsibility for its disposal. One final mess from it that I have to take care of.

But how to go about it? As sharp as my swords were, I dared not risk ruining them on that abomination's metal hide.
Carrying it anywhere was also impossible, what with how large and heavy it was, and leading it anywhere was just as unlikely. With its strange legs and awkward gait, I doubted the beast could even make it down a couple of stairs, let alone...

And then it came it me. Really, it was so obvious, I can hardly believe I didn't think of it sooner.

Leading it, while time-consuming, was far easier than I had expected it to be. I don't know if it could understand me, but I made a point of speaking to it in as pleasant and friendly voice as I could manage. While inwardly I cringed at every tree it scraped against and flower it stomped, I knew they were but minor concerns in the greater scheme of things.
Soon enough, we reached our destination, and with a little coaxing, I got it standing at the very edge of the top-most step, and instructed it to stand guard there for any intruders that might be coming up. Whether it remained there because of my instruction, or merely because it did not know what else to do, I did not care. All that mattered was that it was there.

From my position behind it, I pause to watch it standing there. So close to the edge. So very, very close. So close, in fact, that you would think that even the slightest breeze at that moment would be enough to send it tumbling over and downward.
So simple.
So easy.

Stepping back just enough to give myself some room, I offer the beast one final look. Not one of pity, nor remorse. Oh my, no. With every fiber of my being, I know this thing is something that does not belong here. It might not even belong anywhere.
No, this thing that does not belong here, that should not even exist does not deserve pity. All it deserves is all it is about to get, no more, and no less.

And so I step forward.

I brace myself.

And I push.

The last thing I hear, even as I no longer see it helplessly rolling and tumbling down the stairs, is the screaming. Like a pig being slaughtered, it screamed and kicked and flailed as it fell.



I couldn't help but smile.
Sometimes dreams really do come true.
>> No. 4971
>>4970
Not as soft as I would have liked, but it was most certainly amusing.
>> No. 4972
>>4970
Goddamnit Yukari, did you even watch Robocop before grabbing ED-209?
>> No. 4974
File 127604448063.jpg - (301.29KB , 479x512 , youareaneyesore.jpg ) [iqdb]
4974
Posting this without any shame whatsoever.
>> No. 4975
>>4974
Oddly acceptable.
>> No. 4976
>>4974

I WARNED YOU ABOUT STAIRS BRO!

I TOLD YOU DAUG!

IT KEEPS HAPPENING!
>> No. 4978
>>4970


Just so you know, you're a real bastard for writing this. ED209 is the mechanical epitome of LOVE and MOE.
>> No. 4979
>>4978
Before now, I wasn't aware that Skynet reads this site. I wish I was still ignorant.
>> No. 4980
>>4979

It tried writing a story on this site before, it just decided it had better objectives to complete.
>> No. 4981
>>4980

Just like all our other writers.
>> No. 4982
File 127623495284.jpg - (178.77KB , 600x550 , collateral shot.jpg ) [iqdb]
4982
Noirer Than Noir

I'm surrounded.
Side to side, front to back, back to front, and back to that other side from before. They're all around me, stretching out and up and as far as the eye can see, like trees in a forest, which is what they are, because that's where I am. Except there are no trees in this forest, but bamboo, which is like trees but kinda but not really. All I know is, there's a difference, and if you don't know what that difference is there's something not working so good in your brain in your head that makes you an idiot.

I am not an idiot, because I know the difference between where I am and where I am not, and if I was where I wasn't then I wouldn't be where I am which is where I wouldn't be if I wasn't where I was. And right now, where I am is in this forest of bamboo and not trees.

I don't want to be here. I want to be not here. But that's not how it goes when you have the job that I have, and the job that I have makes me do things like this. In my line of work, it's all about the payback. Or is it payoff? All I know is I am getting it.

My client was Damey McFancypants, the dame who wore pants. Seems she wanted someone put on ice for wanting to put her on ice because she wanted to put them on ice for putting them on ice for putting her on ice for putting them on ice. That's a lot of ice, and when you have that much that's when you call me. Because I am the excerpt. The only weird thing was why she had so much ice in the first place. Maybe she's more awesome than I thought she was.

After a lot of walking, an idea hits me like a thing hitting me in the face. I am walking and not flying.

I stop doing what I am doing and do that other thing that I wasn't doing.

After a little flying, an idea hits me like a thing hitting me in the face. Except, instead of an idea it's a thing hitting me in the face like a thing hitting me in the face.

I stop doing what I was doing and go back to doing what I was doing before.
Which was walking.

Stupid bamboo.

“Nyeh-heh-heh-heh-heh!”

I suddenly had the feeling I wasn't alone.
The sound of someone laughing also made me think that.

The Rabbit is there.
She looks at me, and I look at her.
And then, she speaks.
She can speak here.
She says 'NirS aRf NeuF rEeAm SneER fRaM tEleViSioN.'
That means “Marf reens maeer fuen fra sirn television.”
I don't know what that means.

“I didn't say that! Nyeh~!”

She so totally said that. I should know. I just said that she said it.

“Uh-huh. So, nyeah, what's a little one like you doing all the way out here? We don't have any frogs, if that's what you're after, nyeah~.”

The Rabbit was asking questions. Questions I couldn't answer.
She couldn't know why I was there, which was because the pantsy dame sent me. Sent me to put someone on ice. Which is what I do but normally to frogs. And she was no frog.
I like frogs because they freeze the best.

“Ahhh, nyeehee! So the old Firebird's trying something new, nyehh? I guess I oughtta tell someone about it~.”

Oh crap. The Rabbit read my mind like an open book being read by a mind-reader who also reads books in their spare time. I forgot she could do that here. Maybe it's because this light isn't enough for reading. Unless she can read in the dark. Maybe that's what all those carrots are for.

I hate carrots. It's because of their color, orange like the sunset made of oranges and candy. And orange candy. But they do not taste like candy. And that is why I hate them.

“Anyway, you better be fast if you want to stop me! Catch me if you can, nyeh~!”

The Rabbit shot off quick like a bunny. Which makes sense.
I am not an idiot.

I take off after her like a bunny, but a bunny the flies instead of hopping, which isn't as good as flying so I wonder why they don't do that instead. Clearly they must be idiots.

I chase her into the Eintea and through the halls inside of it, and also the rooms, and halls, and more halls, through doors and doors and halls and doors and that other Rabbit though it was more like we went into and over her and that looked like it might have hurt but that's what you get when you're on the wrong side. That's why they say you face justice, because you get justice in the face. And justice can take call kinds of forms, like a rabbit and a me, although I am more justice than she is. She is just a rabbit.

Just as quickly as our chase began, it does the opposite of that thing. The began part, not the quickly part. It also does it quickly.

Once again, we stand face to face.
I look at her.
She looks at me.
She speaks. Because I guess she can still do that.
She says-

“Well, looks like you got me cornered~! Yep!”

Wait a minute. That is not what she said.
She said something else.
She said “YrRotCaF gNiViL eHt Ni Oom Si gOd EhT.”
Which means I don't know what that means.

“Nyeh-heh! You're a weird one, alright! I guess that's what happens when you get too much of that stuff, nyeh? Gotta take care of your health, ya know?”

I do not know. Because I don't need to. All I know is what I know, and I know I don't need to know that, because I know something else.
This chase is over. Over like a thing that's done.

“Heh, ya got that right, at least. Too bad I'm not the one it's over for- nyeh!”

The Rabbit snaps her fingers and smiles a smile like a she knew something that I didn't. But what she didn't know was that I know something she doesn't know because she's too busying thinking she knows what I don't know.

“Nyeh? And what might that be?”
“What might what be?”
“That thing you know that I don't?”
“I don't know what you mean.”
“Hey, now, nyeh. You're not the one who's supposed to be playing mind-games, here.”
“The only games I play are with frogs. And marbles. And sometimes both. Minds don't freeze as well.”
“...nyeh...where the hell are they? A-anyway, what is it you think you know? Hmm?”

What do I know? I know stuff. Lots of stuff.
But there is one thing I know right now that she doesn't, and that makes me smarter, which I would be anyway. Because knowing is strongness which is half of something.

“Yeah yeah, yadda yadda, out with it already!”

Yes, I was defiantly the smart one here. I knew something that she did not, but that she was about to know which you might think would make her as smart as me, but not because I still knew it first.

“Yes, and that is...?”

I have back-up.

“Nhey? No you doNYEAAUGH!

The Rabbit is floored in many different ways as the nearby door is kicked in and hits her and she goes to the floor, which is where you go when you are floored by something. If you went to the ceiling instead, you might call it something else, but it probably wouldn't sound as good.

“Nyeack! Who the hell was tha-”
Spring has sprung, motherfucker.

She stands in the door-less doorway and speaks to the Rabbit.
Black. Lilly Black.
But her friends call her “Lil' B.”.

“Call me that again and this cigarette gets put out in your eye.”

We are so totally friends.

“Hey, Chilly? Why don't you try playing “The Quiet Game” for a little bit, yeah?”
“Alright! I'm totally gonna win this time!”

I so totally am.

- - - - - -

“Right. Now that's taken care of, let's get down to business, shall we Little Miss White Rabbit?”
“Eh? Like hell I'm telling you anything! Just wait until the others get here, then you'll be sorry~! Nyeheheheheheh-URK!”
“First of all, any more of that stupid 'nyeh' sound out of you, and I'm going to do a lot worse than planting my foot in your gut.”
“...augh...ah...ow...”
“Secondly, your little friends? They ain't coming to this party.”
“...gah..bitch...what did you do to them? Where are they?!”
“Well, I'll tell you where they're not: Safe.”
“..tch. Bitch.”
“Now then, my companion and I are here for something. Or rather, someone. There are one of two ways this can go. We can go the easy way, and you tell us what we want to know, or we do it the fun way.”
“Like hell I'm telling you anything, you curtain-bombing bitch.”
“Oooh, I was hoping you'd say that~.”

This is where the fun begins.
A quick glance around the room tells me this is their laundry room, and despite the old-fashioned decor, they are still modern enough to have actual machines for washing their clothes. Getting a firm hold on her floppy ears, I drag her over to a nearby washer, readjust my grip, and...

*SLAM*

“OW!”
“Where is she, little bunny?”
“...gah...fu-fuck you.”
“Ooh, wrong answer.”

*SLAM*

“AUGH!”
“Again. Where is she?”
“..ahh...ha...ha...you know...how much...your season sucks balls?”
“Hm, wrong again~!”

*SLAM*
“Now...”
*SLAM*
“Where.”
*SLAM*
“the”
*SLAM*
“fuck”
*SLAM*
“is she?”
*SLAM*

“AUGH...gah...god-fucking-damn! O-okay! Okay! She's over there! Fuck!”
“What? In that dryer? Nice try.”

*SLAM*
“OWFUCKINGFUCK I'm telling the truth! GAH! She's in the fucking dryer!”
“.....”
“I'm fucking serious! She's in there! Do you think if I was tricking you I'd come up with something that stupid?”
“Of course not, silly rabbit...”
“...so, can you just let me go, the-”

*KERSLAM*

“After all, tricks are for kids.”

I'm not sure what the fuck she was playing at, telling me the one we came for was in a fucking dryer, of all places. But what the hell.

“'Ey. Chilly. Quiet Game's over, you win.”
“Huh? Really?”
“Yeah, really. You're the Grand Fuck Champion of the World.”
“Awesome!”

- - - - - -

I am awesome. The awesomest.

“Yeah yeah, enough of the fist pumping. We gonna do this thing, or what?”

Oh yeah, that's right. This is no celebrating time. This is time for action.
We had a job to do, which was my job, but I got someone else involved.
And now, we had to do it. Because that was our job.
We're ice fairies, or at least one of us is.

We stand before the machine thing like people who stand before other things, that might or might not also be machines. We were doing that kind, specifically, though.
The shiny, glossy, shine-covered surface reflecting like a great big block of ice, if the ice was made of milk. But this milk had a window on the front. A window that was also a door.
A door that we open, only to find-

“Holy fuck. You have got to be shitting me.”

There she was, but there was no shitting to be done. I didn't have to go, and I don't think Lil' had to, either, and I know the one we were looking at now couldn't either because she clearly didn't have the parts to do that sort of thing.
I know anatonminity.

“Goddamn. It looks like someone beat us to the job. Fuck. I know I said I wanted to crack some heads, but not if a head is all there fucking is.”

She was right. Laying in the machine like a hair-covered head-shaped ball was a head. Not really the place one would put their head, even if it looks like it's just taking it easy.

“...can you cut the weird monologue shit and start talking like normal, please? I'm getting enough of a headache from the one I gave the rabbit.”
“Awww, but it's fun!”
“It's also pissing me off for some reason. Just stop it. For now? 'Kay?”
“Oh, fine.”


“...so. Uh, what should we do about this?”
“Well, Pantsy said to 'put her on ice' so I thought what I'd do was maybe freeze her, which is gonna be a lot easier now that she's so small!”
“I don't think that's quite what 'Pantsy' meant by pu...did it just fucking move?”
“Wha? I don't think so.”
“No, no, I'm telling you, I think I just saw that head fucking mo-OHFUCK!”

“Well hello, there. ⑨. (´ー`)ノ
How do you like this weather?( ̄~ ̄;)
It's too bright there, isn't it? Just the perfect day to stay inside.
Indoor air conditioning is just fab. (^。^)”

“What. The. Fuck.”

“I was having just a regular day. A normal day. But then things had to happen (-_-*)
It was that bitch. That XXXXX. (`曲´)
All I did was cut her open and strangle her with her organs.
Then she had to go and do this. And now I can't even have my desert. (,,#゚д゚)
But I will show her. Oh yes. I will. ヽ(`0´)ノ
First I will take her XXXXX and then jam them up her XXXXXX while I XXXX with her XXXXX and (ಠ益ಠ)
And then I will have tea and cake while has only death. ( ^‐^)_且~~
Yes. That will be ever so fuuuuu


“Gah, thanks for that, Chilly. “
“I guess we put her on ice after all, huh?”
“Yeeeeah. We sure did.”


Yeah.
>> No. 4983
Lily White(?), gangster style.
>> No. 4984
Lil' fuckin' awesome is more like it.
>> No. 4985
>collateral shot.jpg
She totally doesn't have the three vials of thin blood to do that.

>Lily Black
Is she Coyote?

>SusieKaguya
I should have seen this coming.

>And now I can't even have my desert.
Why do you want all that sand?
>> No. 4986
> “Spring has sprung, motherfucker.”
> Lilly Black.

awesomeface.jpg

> (ಠ益ಠ)

ಠ_____ಠ
>> No. 4987
>>4982

And here I was, just yesterday, thinking "Man, I haven't read CirNoir for a while, I hope there's another one".

And now there is. Can you read minds? Either way: Thank you.
>> No. 4989
>spring has sprung, motherfucker
>spring has sprung
I laughed.
>> No. 4991
File 127639850071.jpg - (27.04KB , 393x202 , 10607.jpg ) [iqdb]
4991
'Dying is such a bother...'
>> No. 4994
File 127657460966.jpg - (108.88KB , 800x600 , closing time.jpg ) [iqdb]
4994
“Crap. What am I supposed to do?”
“Um, sir? Have you decided yet?”
“Er, I'm sorry?”
“Have you decided what you wanted, sir?
“Ah, sorry, no. No I haven't.”
“I don't mean to rush you, sir, but...”
“I know, I know.”
“...it's just, it's almost time to close up, here, is all.”
“I know, I know.”
“I really don't mean to rush you, or anything.”
“Yeah, sorry, sorry, I know. It's just, I'm having a hard time deciding what I want.”
“I guess so. You've been staring at that menu for a while, sir.”
“Yeah. Feels like I've been looking this thing over for months, now. But I still don't know what I want.”
“Well, like I said, I don't mean to rush you, but it's almost time to...”
“I know.”
“So, if you're going to go for anything, you kinda have to pick it now, sir.”
“I know, damn it, I know.”
“There is no need to get that way with my staff, sir.”
“M-manager!”
“...oh crap.”
“Why don't you go and start cleaning up while I see to things here, hm?”
“Ah, y-yes Ma'am!”
“Now then, what's this all about?”

- - - - - - - - - -

“So, you're having trouble deciding on what you want?”
“Yeah.”
“Even though you've had plenty of time to think it over already?”
“Um...yeah.”
“Months worth of time, in fact?”
“...yes.”
“Rather irresponsible, aren't you ?”
“In my own defense, I wasn't exactly expecting to get to this point when I first came in.”
“Yet, here you are.”
“.....”
“Oh, don't look like that. I mean, certainly you could have planned ahead more than you have, but what matters is that you're here now, and are at least thinking things over rather than wasting away your time on silly little distractions, right?”
“Uh, r-right. Of course.”
“So, have you at least narrowed down your options? That's always a good place to start.”
“Yeah, I've done that, mostly.”
“And those options would be...?”
“Well, for starters, I guess I could just go with my usual.”
“A little obvious, of course, but there's certainly nothing wrong with sticking with what you're already comfortable with.”
“Yeah, the thing about that is if I go with my usual...”
“Yes?”
“Well, don't take this the wrong way, but I was wondering if I should maybe try it somewhere else for a change.”
“And what ever do you mean by that, sir? Is this establishment somehow inadequate?”
“Ah! No! No! It's not that at all! This place is great! I really like it here! It's just...well...”
“It's just what?”
“It's just...I mean....is this really the best area for this sort of thing? I know I've been coming here for a while, now, but as time's gone on I'm starting to feel a little out-of-place here.”
“Hm, I suppose I see what you mean. This neighborhood is nice and all, but sometimes I do wonder if I shouldn't see about relocating and setting up shop elsewhere.”
“So, yeah. There's that to consider.”
“And? What else are you considering?”
“Um, well...I was also wondering about trying something new. Something different, you know?”
“Something you've seen others with, perhaps?”
“Yeah. I'm curious, you know?”
“That's understandable, but you should realize that it's not for everyone, right?”
“It's not?”
“Oh my, no. Have you ever seen one of those oversized sundaes? The ones they hand out trophies for anyone who can actually finish them without stopping to vomit?”
“I guess?”
“Well, this is a lot like one of those. Many have tried it, but those who can go all the way and see it through to the end are rare. You need to be able to plan and think ahead. Anticipate the unexpected, and adapt to changing conditions. Most of all, though, you must have the conviction to see it through to a proper end. Otherwise, you'll likely find yourself becoming disinterested or, worse, sick of it completely. Covered head to toe in the foul-smelling bile of your failure, you will walk away a broken and defeated shadow of what you once were. Honestly, I'm not sure you can handle that.”
“...neither am I, when you put it that way.”
“Aw, but don't let that get you down! Maybe you'll do just fine. Sure, you probably won't, but that's not an absolute certainty.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Oh, don't be like that. Most endeavors carry with them at least some risk of failure. What matters is whether or not you consider the goal to be worth that risk, and how you go about reaching for that goal. Do you have any ideas?”
“A couple, I guess. Nothing really concrete though. Just some vague notions.”
“Hm. Yes, I'm thinking you might want to work on that a bit more before committing to anything too big.”
“Ah.”
“Not to say that you can't try it right now, if you really want to. You'll just have to find somewhere else to try it. Can't risk having you making a mess of my nice, clean floors, now can I?”
“I suppose not.”

“So then, is there anything else?”
“Hm...no, I don't think so. Those are basically what I've been trying to decide between.”
“And?”
“...and what?”
“Have you decided?”
“Um...no.”
“I see.”
“Sorry.”
“No, no, it's quite alright. I should have expected that.”
“Sorry.”
“Still, it's getting quite late, and while I would rather not simply throw you out into the streets without anything being decided, it simply won't do to have you remaining undecided like this.”
“So, what do you suggest?”
“Well, for starters, you could always ask them what you should do. Sure, they might change their minds shortly afterward, but even a brief sense of direction is better than no direction at all.”
“I suppose, but isn't doing that kind of a cop-out? Having others decide just because I can't do it myself?”
“Yes, and your point is?
“Oh, no point. Just clarifying.”
“You really are irresponsible, aren't you?”
“Shamelessly so, yes.”
“Well, if you have a problem with whatever it is they suggest, you could just ignore them and go and do whatever it is you feel like whenever you feel like doing it, anyway.”
“It's been working pretty well so far, I think.”
“Is that so~?”
“That...sounds kinda creepy, coming from you.”
“Is that so~?”
“Seriously. Creepy.”
“Is that so~?”
“Please stop.”
“Oh, fine. So, do you think you're ready to make a choice, then?”
“I kinda have to, now, don't I?”
“We are running short on time, yes.”

“Well then, in that case I'll have...”

[ ] The “usual”, please. Even if it's crap, it's comforting, damn it!
[ ] Dine in
[ ] Carry-out

[ ] Something new. All the cool kids are doing it!
[ ] Fuck it. Take everything you've got, stick it in a blender, and serve it to me on ice. If I can manage to choke it all down and manage to not die, I'll be happy.
>> No. 4995
[x] Dine in
[x] Something new. All the cool kids are doing it!

>choices

wat

WriteastoryWriteastoryWriteastoryWriteastory
>> No. 4996
[x] Dine in
-[x] Something new. All the cool kids are doing it!

Choice of a new generation.
>> No. 4997
[x] Dine in
-[x] Something new. All the cool kids are doing it!

My tears are overflowing.
>> No. 4998
[X] Dine in
[X] Something new. All the cool kids are doing it!
>> No. 4999
Suddenly, I realize what it must have been like for people when I was writing because I can't figure out what the second and third options are. The other three seem pretty clear, though.

Any hints, maybe?

[x] Something new. All the cool kids are doing it!

I know that this sounds interesting, at least. I'll consider adding a dine-in/carry out choice once I find out what they are, or somebody suggests something convincing-sounding.

On an unrelated point, I just now noticed all the email-field comments along with the author's posts. Spent a good ten minutes checking out each one in turn.

Dammit.
>> No. 5000
File 127658928247.jpg - (855.74KB , 1000x1000 , Good Burger.jpg ) [iqdb]
5000
The Dine-in/Carry-out options were meant to be sub-options for the first choice, but due to a combination of that bit of formatting not carrying over when copied-and-pasted, and me not wanting to bother deleting and posting that a third time just to fix it, it is as you see it now.
Sorry about that.

If it helps to rephrase things a little, my question is basically just: What would you like, and where should it go?
>> No. 5001
>>5000
So it was supposed to be like this?

[ ] The “usual”, please. Even if it's crap, it's comforting, damn it!
-[ ] Dine in
-[ ] Carry-out
[ ] Something new. All the cool kids are doing it!
[ ] Fuck it. Take everything you've got, stick it in a blender, and serve it to me on ice. If I can manage to choke it all down and manage to not die, I'll be happy.

Is that's the case then...
[x] The “usual”, please. Even if it's crap, it's comforting, damn it!
[x] Carry-out
>> No. 5003
[x] The “usual”, please. Even if it's crap, it's comforting, damn it!
-[x] Dine in

Re-votan' sucks.
>> No. 5005
[x] Fuck it. Take everything you've got, stick it in a blender, and serve it to me on ice. If I can manage to choke it all down and manage to not die, I'll be happy.
>> No. 5006
>>4994
Where have I seen this before?
>> No. 5008
[x] Fuck it. Take everything you've got, stick it in a blender, and serve it to me on ice. If I can manage to choke it all down and manage to not die, I'll be happy.
>> No. 5011
[X] Devour the youkai next to you.
-[X] RIP AND TEAR!
>> No. 7791
And this thread, kids, is why you shouldn't write while being high.